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itzynabi · 5 months

Text

together

summary: in which someone talks to eve

set: 3 nov 2018

word count: 3.1k

warnings: talks of depression & mental health, mention of food. pls tell me if i missed anything

an: the gif is mine. if im being honest, this was a very self indulgent scenario of things i wish i was told, but it was surprisingly hard to write bcs i had no idea how i wanted to be comforted. anyways, i hope you like it! words im bold are english. feedback and reblogs are much appreciated 💐

eve’s masterlist

A plate of food was placed in front of Eve. “How are you feeling?”

She looked up at her brother as he sat down opposite her at the table. “...I’m not sure.” She could tell he wasn’t satisfied with her answer, but he didn’t push it. Thankfully.

Following her breakdown five days ago, Kibum became very involved in her life. Every morning and night, he would ask her how she was feeling; she had to write in a journal — she didn’t have to show him anything she wrote, though; they went on walks together with his dogs. He wanted to help her.

“I’m going to meet up with Taeyeon today. You’re going to training, right?”

Eve shook her head. “The trainers are still sorting out whatever the problem is. But I’m gonna go to a dance class with Chaeryeong and Ryujin. Then we’ll get lunch and they have to do homework, so we’ll go our separate ways.”

“Okay.” Kibum nodded. “On your way back, can you pick the dogs up from the day care centre? I’ll send you the address.”

“Okie dokie,” she agreed. “Can we eat now?”

“Yes. Yes, we can.”

Ryujin groaned as Eve massaged her shoulders. “Everything hurts.”

The three girls had finished their dance class at a studio. It was their first time going to that studio, so they didn’t know what to expect, and they quickly realised how under prepared they were. The two hour class started and ended with thirty minutes of cardio to ‘help with their stamina.’ Or so they were told.

Chaeryeong returned to their booth with a tray full of their food. “My legs felt like jelly when I was fetching the tray,” she told her friends.

“It’s only my back that’s sore,” Eve said. She stopped massaging Ryujin — causing the girl to groan louder — and turned to face their food.

Chaeryeong slid into the booth, groaning in relief when her legs stopped paining. “You’re lucky, unnie.”

“How isn’t everything sore for you?” Ryujin asked, taking her soda.

Eve answered as she sorted through all of their food, giving each girl their meal, “I did this type of stuff in strength and conditioning for ballet. It wasn’t really cardio focused, but everything would get worked out and exercised.”

Chaeryeong slumped against the booth. “I should’ve gone to your school. Then I would’ve been so strong.”

“Even the teacher said she has good muscle,” Ryujin commented, dipping one of her chips into tomato sauce.

Eve picked up a slice of her potato and bacon pizza. “I’m only strong because I actually work out,” she said before taking a bite.

“We also work out!” Chaeryeong argued, sitting up so she could start eating her cheeseburger.

“But unnie works out every week,” Ryujin pointed out as she took the gherkins out of her hamburger, putting them on the side of her plate, “we work out once a month. Sometimes once every two months.”

Chaeryeong nodded in agreement. “True. She could be a national athlete with how much she works out,” she joked with a giggle.

Ryujin nodded, also giggling. “She should do women’s footb–”

She stopped speaking as the intro to La Vie en Rose started playing from the restaurant speakers. Both her and Chaeryeong glanced at Eve, who was too busy enjoying her pizza to notice. She looked up from her plate when she noticed the silence at the table.

“What’s going on?” She asked, putting her pizza back on her plate. She looked around the restaurant in confusion before hearing Eunbi’s part of the verse playing. “Oh.” She simply said, returning to her pizza with an indifferent shrug.

She hadn’t told anyone about her mental breakdown, but she knew her friends knew that something was up with her. Eve tried to conceal the way her hand trembled slightly by using two hands to eat her pizza.

“You don’t have to, like, act weird around me,” she said when she noticed how Ryujin and Chaeryeong were trying — and failing — to pretend they weren’t watching her.

Chaeryeong chuckled awkwardly, fussing with her hair. “We’re not acting weird.”

Eve rolled her eyes dramatically with a groan as she put down her pizza. “I flopped my way out of debuting in IZ*ONE. It’s not the end of the world. I’m okay. You can talk about the group, or the song, or anything — I won’t freak out. It’s not a big deal.” Even to her own ears, it sounded like she was trying to convince herself of what she was saying.

“Well, yeah, it’s just… I mean, you really wanted to debut, Nabi unnie. And we were all voting for you and everything and… It’s just a bit awkward because you don’t seem sad but you also do?” Ryujin said, scrunching her face more and more as she spoke. “You haven’t said anything, but we can tell that something’s upsetting you.”

Eve sighed. “It’s just the normal disappointment that comes with not getting something you wanted. You guys know what it’s like, you both didn’t get to debut through the survival shows you were on. I’m dealing with it in my own way, but I’m fine. Besides, I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be proud of your sister,” she told Chaeryeong. “I didn’t debut, but she did. That’s great!”

Ryujin nodded slowly. “Acting like this must make it harder to get over it, right?”

“Yep,” Eve said, popping the last P. “It’s almost suffocating.” She stole a chip from her friends’ plates, trying to lighten the mood again. She knew she succeeded when Ryujin took one of the cubes of potato off of her pizza and Chaeryeong took a sip of her soda.

The three girls finished eating their food as they talked some more. Within another ten minutes, they had finished their food and had left the restaurant. They stood outside the building, watching as cars drove by.

“Well, it was nice hanging with you guys,” Eve said, knowing that Ryujin and Chaeryeong were going to do their homework. “Enjoy doing your essays.”

Ryujin and Chaeryeong shared a look before the former girl stepped closer to Eve. “Unnie, we’re not going to do homework. We’re… We’re going to the company.”

Eve blinked repeatedly, shaking her head. “What do you mean? There isn’t any training. There hasn’t been for a while.”

”It’s because we’re not training, we’re debuting,” Chaeryeong said. “That’s why there hasn’t been any training. Just like when TWICE sunbaenim and STRAY KIDS sunbaenim were preparing for their debuts.”

“Oh,” Eve said, not knowing how to react. She felt a bunch of conflicting emotions. “Um… I’m happy for you!” She weakly cheered. “You guys are… gonna do so well. Um, I have to go fetch Commes Des and Garçon now, but… Wow! Congratulations! Really. Bye.”

She turned around and walked away, not waiting to listen if her friends were going to say anything. She quickly went to fetch her brother’s dogs and returned home. She put some dog food and water in their bowls, still thinking about what Chaeryeong and Ryujin told her.

Eve truly didn’t know how to feel about it. She obviously was happy for them — who wouldn’t be? But she was also… jealous. She worked insanely hard to be good at her craft, but it wasn’t enough. Jinyoung wasn’t kidding when he said that her performance in Produce 48 would affect whether or not she would debut in the new girl group.

Kibum entered the passcode to his apartment, walking in. “Thanks for coming, noona,” he said as Taeyeon walked in behind him.

“It’s okay,” Taeyeon waved him off, “don’t mention it. By the way, where are Commes Des and Garçon?” She asked, noticing how the dogs didn’t rush to greet them and how they weren’t in the living room.

Kibum frowned as he looked around the room. “I don’t know. Nabi said she’d fetch them. Maybe they’re on a walk?” He poked his head into his room, not noticing how Taeyeon went to open Eve’s bedroom door.

“I found them,” she whisper-shouted. She heard Kibum walk towards her until he was standing behind her, staring at the sight in front of the both of them: Eve curled up in bed with both of the dogs in her arms as she slept. Garçon wasn’t facing them, and therefore hadn’t seen them, but Commes Des was staring right at them. Both dogs were awake, watching over Eve as she slept.

“Was she crying?” Taeyeon asked, noticing dried tear streaks on Eve’s face. She started walking forward, but was stopped by Commes Des growling.

Kibum groaned, “Why are you growling? What’s the problem?”

Commes Des squirmed his way out of Eve’s hold, standing just in front of her as Garçon turned around to face the two idols. Eve stirred softly as Commes Des kept growling.

“Bro, chill,” she mumbled, raising her right arm to gently stroke his back. “Relax.”

“He was about to attack me,” Taeyeon joked, nodding her head slowly and squinting her eyes in the way she usually did.

Eve sat up slowly, still holding onto Garçon. She yawned as she fully woke up and rubbed her eyes. “What’re you doing here, ahjumma?”

“Kibum-ah asked me to talk to you,” she answered, pointing at the man.

Eve simply blinked. “Are you my therapist?”

Taeyeon chuckled, walking fully into the room and sitting down next to Eve. “I’m not your therapist, no. I’m just… here to talk. About whatever you want.”

“I’ll be next door,” Kibum said, turning around to walk away. Garçon and Commes Des followed him out of the room, probably so they could force him to play with them.

“Do you want me to close the door?” Taeyeon asked, pointing at it. Eve hesitated before nodding and Taeyeon got up to close it before returning to sit next to her. “So…”

“So…” Eve echoed. “What did ahjussi tell you?”

Taeyeon sharply inhaled. “That you broke down–”

“True.”

“–, that your depression is worse–”

“Yep.”

“–, and that he’s worried about you and doesn’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Yeah…”

“Oh! Also that you wrote a song.”

Eve nodded. “Oh, yeah. I did. Would you like to hear it? Or read the lyrics? I didn’t actually record it, so…”

Taeyeon nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okie dokie.” Eve stood up and walked to her desk. She ruffled among the many papers lying all over the desk, letting out a soft ‘Ah-ha!’ when she found the exam pad she wrote the song on. “I wrote it in English, but I wrote a Korean version of it,” she told Taeyeon as she walked back to the older girl and handed her the exam pad.

The room was quiet as Taeyeon read over the lyrics, only the sound of her flipping the page to fill the room. Eve used the time to observe Taeyeon. She knew that Taeyeon also had depression — she sang about it. It was through talking with her and Jonghyun that she realised she might have depression. She went to a psychologist to get diagnosed, but didn’t see the point of going to therapy because she felt it wasn’t serious enough for therapy.

When Taeyeon was done reading, she closed the exam pad and put it down next to her. “Well, that’s… Well, it’s sad. Do you want to talk about it?”

“There’s not much to talk about really,” Eve said with a shrug. “I mean, it’s all clear.”

“Okay. Then can you tell me why you were crying?” Taeyeon asked, gesturing at Eve’s face.

Eve visibly hesitated. “Um, my friends are debuting. That’s why there hasn’t been any training. The company stops training when a group is preparing for debut to stop the chances of the song or choreography being leaked. I found out today when we were eating lunch. It was just… PD- nim told me he wanted to debut a new group. He told me that my performance in Produce 48 would affect whether or not I debut in the group and… I didn’t make it into the group so… Yeah.”

Taeyeon’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’m sorry, Nabi.”

“You don’t have to apologise for anything. It’s not your fault. I should’ve done a better job on Produce 48, it’s my fault.”

“It’s not your fault,” Taeyeon told her.

“Yes, it is. I was the one competing, I was the one that performed, I was the one that didn’t do her best. I’m the one that’s at fault,” she said, feeling herself get emotional again. “I’m happy for my friends, but I feel like…”

“Like that should be you?” Taeyeon finished for her, Eve nodding.

“I’m not saying they don’t deserve it, I just want it for myself,” she explained. “I’ve been a trainee for so long, I’ll never debut at this point. I should just switch to becoming a full-time ballerina. I can audition for the national ballet and–”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Taeyeon waved her arms around. “Nabi, you’re going to debut. You just need to keep going.”

Eve scoffed. “Unnie, I’m not debuting. It’s been six years, okay. I’ve showcased everything that I possibly could — I have nothing left. The company’s probably going to cut their losses and just tell me to end my contract. I wouldn’t fault them or anything. I pretty much embarrassed them. So, I’ll just reinvent myself and do bal–”

“Why are you so adamant on giving up?”

“Because I’m tired!” She exclaimed. “I’m tired of everything. I just want to stop.”

Taeyeon wrapped her arm around Eve, squeezing the younger girl’s shoulder. “Agi-yah, I know it’s hard right now, but it’ll get better soon. Unnie promises. I’m here, Key’s here, everyone’s here. And we’re going to support you, okay? Just hold on a little longer.”

They were silent for some time as Eve calmed herself down. From outside her room, they could hear Kibum trying to bargain with the dogs to get them to let him rest. “I don’t know what’s wrong, it’s… Something is broken,” Eve said. “I’m broken.”

“You’re not broken,” Taeyeon comforted. “I know it feels that way — I know that’s what your brain is telling you —, but trust me, Nabi-yah. You’re not broken. All you need is to get help — professional help.”

“Oppa said the same thing. We’re in the process of looking for a therapist that won’t tell me it’s all in my head.”

‘I mean, technically, it is all in your head,'' Taeyeon joked, trying to get Eve to smile. “It’s a mental illness. In your mi–”

“I get it, oh my goodness.”

Taeyeon chuckled. “You know I’m here for you if you need anything? We’re in this together, okay? I don’t call you Kim Maknae for nothing, so come to me whenever. I know what you’re going through — I’ve been there. I won’t leave you to go through this alone. We’ll take it step by step by step by step. You’re doing so well and I can see your hard work.”

Eve nodded. “Thank you, ahjumma. It means a lot.”

She squeezed Eve’s shoulder. “It’s no problem. And you do realise that when you go to therapy, you’ll have to talk about your feelings, right?”

Eve groaned, throwing her head back as Taeyeon cackled. “I’m not looking forward to it.”

“Just pretend your therapist is me and you’ll be fine.”

“But,” Eve started, her voice slightly more uncertain, “I’ve, like… Like, I’ve…”

“Yeah,” Taeyeon encouraged.

Eve sighed frustratedly. “I don’t know, it’s… I’ve basically, like, found a way to mould my life around my depression. It isn’t constantly bad or anything like that, but it’s there. And I know how to go through life while being depressed, you know? And… I guess, I’m just… Who am I without depression?” She asked, not actually expecting Taeyeon to answer. “When I went to that psychologist, he told me that I most likely started feeling depressed when I was twelve and subconsciously found a way to, like, ignore it, or whatever, but he could see the effects it had on me. He said the reason it was getting more apparent than before was because I was feeling more and more stressed and he gave me ways to manage them. And I follow the tips, and I do the stretches and meditations, and I’ve, like, reworked my personality around this depression thing, and… I don’t know who I am,” she finished, panting lightly.

“I relate to that,” Taeyeon said after a minute of silence. “You spend so long being depressed that you can’t remember who you were before you were depressed. Or, you do remember who you were, but it’s so similar to who you are now that you start to wonder if you’re actually depressed. So then the question becomes, ‘Is it that I’ve been depressed for longer than I realised?’ Or it’s, ‘Am I even depressed enough to warrant seeking help?’ Or, it’s ‘Am I even depressed at all?’ And honestly, Nabi, I don’t know what it is. I so badly wish I could tell you the answer, but the truth is, I’m also figuring that out. Like I said, we’re doing this together. So, if you find out the answer to that question first, tell me,” she joked.

Eve nodded with a chuckle. “Okay, okay. I have no more questions to ask now,” she said.

“Yeah? I find that hard to believe, but I’ll take it.” She stood up, removing her arm from Eve’s shoulder. “Let’s go out there. We bought you a cake. And, hey. If you’re not added to that debut in JYP by the end of the year, I’ll use my connections to have you debut solo. Or I’ll add you to Red Velvet.”

Eve rolled her eyes as she stood up. “Why would you add me to a group that’s been active for four years? I appreciate the sentiment, but seriously?”

Taeyeon scoffed, opening the door. “It’s the thought that counts,” she whined as they walked into the living room.

Kibum looked up as he threw a toy for Garçon to chase after. “Are you done?”

Taeyeon nodded. “We talked and talked.”

He shifted his gaze to his sister. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, actually,” Eve said with a deep exhale. “Ahjumma said things that I needed to hear. Thanks for arranging this.”

“Of course, you don’t have to mention it,” he said, sighing as Garçon put the toy back in his hands. They all watched as Commes Des stalked over to Taeyeon, the idol picking the dog up.

“I heard there’s cake.”

an: i dont go to jype so idk they actually stop training when a group is preparing for debut, but i thought it would be a cool thing to add/write about

tagging: @seolboba // @ateezivy // @ateezjuliet // @cafemilk-tea // @smh-anon // @alixnsuperstxr // @cosmicwintr // @girlzwfun // @txt-yaomi // @moongrlz

©️ kim nabi

#ficnetfairy #itzy 6th member #itzy sixth member #itzy oc #itzy addition #itzy added member #itzy extra member #itzy member au #itzy imagines #kpop oc #kpop addition #kpop added member #kpop extra member #kpop au #kpop imagines

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

Text

Final Hours pt. 2: The Illusion

synopsis: Living life at the House of the Children of the Star is supposed to be safe and comforting. So why can’t you shake this feeling that you’re not even close to being safe?

word count: 1808

tw: rough sex, breeding, curse words, nsfw

a/n: I absolutely lied. I’m not done writing for Geto. I’ve got about ten years of silence and material I can work off of. Well, that implies... that I don’t hop on the Naoya train.

You turn your head at the sound of water splashing in the bathtub, listening to a babbling Renji and Suguru playing around in the bubble-water. It was undoubtedly adorable seeing the soft side Renji pulled out of the curse user these days, especially now that he was wanted and - in an effort to protect what he had built - ruthless.

But even his lack of tenderness with those outside of his small circle (you, Renji, Mimiko, and Nanako) had a purpose. This purpose would be re-explained to you every so often, whispered to Renji when he was asleep, and seared into the brains of those who followed him. You saw the countless evenings he spent thinking, in meetings, consuming curses… You originally thought it would wear him down faster than Jujutsu Tech had, but he only seemed to grow more powerful with every passing day.

“All done,” Suguru announces, producing a towel-wrapped Renji with a wide smile. “Now we can get you settled in for bed.” Fatherhood is good for him, you think before smiling back and holding your arms out for the giggling child. Mimiko and Nanako could be heard playing around in the hallways, no doubt testing each other’s patience with a game of tag. But you don’t mind. Nothing really bothers you anymore. At least, that’s the way you wished it were.

When you place Renji down in the crib littered with beautiful blankets and stuffed animals, the nagging feeling returns. This is all an illusion, something whispers to you, but you push the feeling away. You've gotten better at doing that lately: ignoring the sinking feeling in your gut at dinner or the tiny twinge of fear you felt at night when everyone was asleep. After you tuck Renji in, you turn to Suguru, who waited patiently for you to join him in your shared bedroom.

When he swipes a hand over your shoulder and presses his thumbs into your upper back, you relax into his touch, allowing him to strip you of the tension in your body. “It’s perfect…” he whispers behind you, and you desperately want to agree; you really do. But you keep your mouth shut, knowing that any argument would be lost the moment he set his lips to your skin or smoothed his hands over your hips. “I love it here.”

“I know,” you answer softly, and his hands still on your back.

“Do you… like it?” The hurt in his voice is evident.

“I love it,” you lie easily, trying to convince yourself that you do love it here; the children are safe, you’re safe, and no one would dare cross Suguru to get to either you or the children.

Except Satoru and Shoko. The remembrance of the two sorcerers puts you on edge again, and a shudder passes through you. You don’t even step foot out of the House for fear of them finding you and taking a sledgehammer to what Suguru carefully crafted as a safe haven.

“And I love you,” Suguru whispers, bringing you back to the present. “Mother of my children, tune to my song, blood in my veins…”

“You’re only waxing poetic because you want something from me.” The observation earns a low chuckle from him, and he smooths his fingers over your hips, making them jerk forward a little. “Just say it.”

“I want another child with you,” he murmurs, fingers splayed across your belly. “I want to have a family full of sorcerer--”

“Will this family get rid of all the non-sorcerers in the world?” The thought that any child of yours would have the capacity - of be forced - to murder makes you sick to your stomach. “Is that why you want so many children?” You’re not sure what caused you to snap, but it’s obviously caught Suguru off guard.

“Watch your mouth.” The command is emphasized by one of his hands grabbing your chin from behind. “Do you think I won’t have completed my goal before we grow our family? I have enough power to do this without their help. Our children won’t have to lift a single finger,” he hisses into your ear, taking care to lower his voice so as to not disturb Renji.

“You really see me as some sort of breeding cow, don’t you?” Suguru lets go of your chin and shuts the door to your room, and you prepare for an argument. But instead of turning to you and pointing a finger before beginning to raise his voice, he grabs your chin again, and walks you back against the wall. You stare him down, not one to back down from a fight. But he doesn’t say a word when he presses his lips against yours, roughly pushing a hand under your shirt and grabbing a breast.

“You think I see you as a cow, hmm?” You exhale shakily, daring to jut your chin out a little in defiance. You knew this game: he would soften you up with a show of dominance, tease out your submissive side, and you’d crumble into his arms and give him just what he wanted. But tonight, you won’t go down without a fight.

Yes, of course you want to give in. You want him to touch you and drive you senseless, but not at the cost of bodily autonomy.

“Yeah,” you answer confidently, feeling his fingers slip down your stomach.

“You’d be sorely mistaken, then.” His lips press against your cheek and heat pools between your legs. Fuck. You curse yourself mentally, angry your body was reacting exactly how you knew it would. “I worship you, kitten. Shit, your body is a mere fraction of what I see when I look at you.” The admission makes you look into his eyes, but you see no trickery there. His grip on your chin slackens, and that same hand falls to your waist as he trails his lips down your neck, pausing to suck on the tender flesh. “You’re more than just a mother, y/n… You know that,” he murmurs against your shoulder, and you shiver under his touch.

Suguru hoists you up easily and takes you to the bed, pinning you underneath him as he presses his lips against yours once more. “Do I have permission to make love to you?” The request is whispered against one of your wrists, and you shiver again as his lips press against that spot, too. Your throat dries up and you swallow hard, trying to form the words you want to say, and when his black eyes flick down to yours, his gaze is hard and unwavering like a stone. “Or should I fuck you like the cow you assume I see you as?”

“Fuck me,” you blurt, and Suguru’s hands instantly duck beneath the hem of your long skirt, pushing it up around your waist. Without warning, he tears at your underwear - another pair gone - and pushes your knees back forcefully.

It isn’t long before you see his pants drop over the side of the bed and feel his fingers probe angrily at your entrance. “You want me to fuck you?” he asks breathily, extending one of your legs back sharply. The question is rhetorical; he’s obviously going to fuck you regardless. You nod anyways, and he presses into you. The pain is sharp and undeniable, but as you open your mouth to cry out, Suguru pushes a hand against it. “Shut the fuck up.” You feel the urge to struggle as he moves inside of you as you’re not wet enough. But he stops mid-stroke and lubricates himself with a trail of spit before working himself back into you. “That’s a good girl… lay there and take it.”

You whimper around his hand, but he doesn’t relent while he pushes into you with force. Suguru seems to be enjoying the view, but you aren’t allowed to lay on your back for much longer. When his cock slips free and his hand comes off of your mouth, there’s a moment where the air rushes into you, but that’s quickly overshadowed by Suguru moving you sideways across the bed, your head dangling off the edge precariously.

“Open,” he commands, and you obediently open your mouth for him to insert his rock hard cock. You can’t take much upside-down, but Suguru definitely tries to shove his entire length down your throat. When you reach your limit, you slap a hand against his thigh, trying to push him off, but he grunts and removes your fingers easily. “I haven’t even gotten started yet.” He places his large hands on your tits as an anchor before moving back and forth and fucking your face.

You don’t know how to cope. While he invades your mouth, the sorcerer above you takes your ankle and stretches your other leg back, placing your big toe in his mouth. His tongue wraps around the digit with ease before he moves to the other toes, sucking on them without a care in the world. You want to yell, scream at him that it’s all too much, but you can’t. Not with his cock stuffed in your mouth. And when his other hand comes off of your breast to play with your cunt, you’re done for.

You practically lose yourself as all of the sensations come to a head, damn near evaporating into the air. When it’s over, though, his mouth lifts off of your foot, his cock slides out of your mouth, and his fingers leave you. You pant eagerly, wanting more, but he moves to the other side of the bed, pressing a knee against the mattress and pulling you to the other side.

When he enters you again, you claw at his back, still sensitive from your orgasm. “Su, my god!”

“Hush,” he claps a hand over your mouth again, raising a brow at your exclamation while he ruts into you. “I won’t have you waking Renji. If you wake him…” He doesn’t need to finish the sentence. You know whatever it is won’t be good.

Suguru continues to pump into you at an increasing speed, his face scrunching up like he’s about to cum. “Su, please…” you whine against his palm and that’s all it takes for him.

“Fuck!” The exclamation is followed by a warm feeling in your pussy that flows out as he continues to move inside of you, not stopping for a second to catch his breath. Somehow, he still has the stamina to continue moving as he pushes cum out of you. Then he picks up his speed again, moaning louder than before and removing his hand from your mouth. You whimper, and he looks down at you instantly. “We’re not even close to finished, y/n. You want me to fuck you like a cow? That’s exactly what I’m about to fucking do.”

#jujutsu kaisen getou #getou x reader #geto x reader #getou suguru #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk geto #jjk smut

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barbecuebabybackribs · 4 years

Photo

Sex with Jasper Hale would include: (Male Reader)

(If the title isn’t warning enough this is nsfw- also yes I know I said this would take a few days but I 1. had my friend bugging me to do it and 2. Needed a break from more complicated requests and life. Also this felt so awkward writing but I hope you guys enjoy) P.S: this is slightly tailored to my friend who requested it- so I’m sorry if it doesn’t fit you

NSFW UNDER CUT!!!!

Human Mate:

Jasper is afraid of hurting you- he is extremely strong and everyone always thinks he’s about to loose control, even though he would never hurt you when everyone around you is on edge and you’re an empath, it puts you on edge.

But when your alone, and he only feels your emotions and his own, he’s able to relax enough to feel comfortable being intimate with you.

It almost always starts with a simple kiss- which he doesn’t end.

He would 100% stop if he ever felt you weren’t into it

He’s a dominant top- he will let you ride him but you both know who’s in control

He loves to pin you to whatever surface is closest- bed, table, wall, it doesn’t matter

He loves how you can’t get out of his grasps, he’d completely in control of just how much pleasure you’ll get

He’s a big tease

He’ll touch you just about anywhere except where you want him to

He’d slowly kiss down your body, paying attention to your emotions and every time he feels a spike of arousal when he touches a specific spot- he pays extra attention there and makes a mental note for next time

Slowly strips you down- almost to slowly but that’s the point- to drive you absolutely insane with lust- which he does help along with his powers

The man use’s his powers a lot but can you blame him?

Calls you pet names the entire time “Darling” “Love” “Sugar”- has called you “Baby boy” a few times when your especially desperate for him

He. Love. Going. Down. On. You.

Almost loves it more then you going down on him- although it’s a close call

He has no gag reflex- which he uses to his advantage

Loves when you moan out his name and pull at his hair

He will stop if you ever suppress your moans/whines- he wants to know just how good he’s making you feel

He’ll overwhelm you with, waves of lust, his mouth, and his hand grasping at your ass/ massaging you.

He loves hearing your moans and your breathless praises

It’ll depend on his mood if he let’s you finish from his mouth, he loves when your moans raise and he can feel you attempting to thrust into him as you reach your high, or he’ll take you right to the edge then stop all contact- relishing in your needy whines and small thrust into the air,

“Jasper, please.”

“Don’t worry, Darling. I’m not even close to being done with you yet.”

Usually tells you to take his clothes off, making it as difficult for you as possible

Arousal is an emotion he can control- and if he so wishes he could overwhelm you with so much lust and arousal he could make you cum without even touching you- he’s tested it before and caught you off guard when you were doing the laundry/cooking

So when you’re trying to strip him he’ll randomly send waves of lust your way- just eating up how you’ll grip his clothes tightly and lean into him- whole body shaking as you do so- but he’ll just bring you to the edge before ceasing his teasing

If he’s in no hurry, he’ll let you go down on him

This man is almost never vocal- except in the bedroom

He doesn’t want to thrust to harshly so he let’s you control most of it

It’s alright if you can’t fit all of him down your throat- you are human and there is a limit for you.

He does however love when you use you hand to rub and pump the rest of his length

He’s pushed you off of him more then once- usually getting so lost in the pleasure he can not trust himself to not loose control

“Jazz? You alright.”

“Come here, Now.”

If you get him to riled up your in for a rough ride- literally

He will bend you over on any surface/ press you against a wall

You’re practically begging when he’s stretching you/ prepping you

He’s prepared 99.9% of the time with lube- if he isn’t it’s purely oral that time, as he wants to make it as painless as possible.

When he’s done prepping you he’ll ask if you’re ready- if you are he’ll thrust into you slowly but forcefully

Wait’s till your fully adjusted before setting a relentless pace

Nuzzles into your back- has lightly bit into you neck once or twice- usually doesn’t though just in case

Grips the back of your neck and thrusts into you- making sure to hit your spot every. single. time.

When you’re reaching your high he will drape against your back and use one hand to support himself and the other to jerk you off

He’s got a praise kink- loves when you praise him, but especially loves muttering small praises into your ear at he fucks into you

You moans only spur him on to fuck into you harder

He’s a sucker if you beg him to go harder or do something differently- man can’t say no

“Please- please don’t stop!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He’ll time your release with an specially brutal wave of lust

You’ll be shaking after your release- and being overstimulated by him continuing to thrust into you chasing his own release

When he cums he’ll practically growl into your ear- thrust becoming even rougher and erratic.

He has and will overstimulate you- he’s a vampire which means lots of stamina

He never goes to far- understanding you’re still human and he doesn’t want it to get to unbearable

But if you’re up to it- he’ll keep going till you’re practically falling apart

He does like it when you ride him, he’ll make you hold his hands and watch you fuck yourself on him

He adores every part of you, almost get’s lost in trailing his fingers down your sides, your face, everything

If he decides your pace isn’t fast enough for him, he’ll grab your hips and thrust up into them

He also like when your on your back, he loves watching your facial expressions, the pleasure that washes over your face- that he caused- it really spurs him on

He also liked being able to kiss you in the middle of the act, your mouth, your neck, anywhere really- but especially the mouth, he likes when he thrusts particularly hard while kissing you and you have to break the kiss with a broken moan

God this man loves everything about you

He’d also be open to tying you up occasionally- he’d use silky material because he 1) likes the feel, and 2) he likes how it doesn’t hurt you

This man loves being in control and when you let him tie you up and forfeit all control to him- it really get’s to him

He makes sure you have a safe word in place before you do anything.

If he feels you be uncomfortable- hit’s the breaks

He’s stopped in the middle of an extremely intense session because he felt the slightest amount of discomfort

“I am so sorry, Do you want me to stop?”

“No- Jasper that’s not it-”

“Are you okay?”

“Jasp-”

“Are you hurt?”

“Babe please calm down–”

It takes a lot of convincing for you guys to continue

This man is all about the aftercare.

He doesn’t need it as much as you physically- although emotionally he does appreciate when you praise him and tell him you love him.

He’ll clean you up, has forced you to take Advil if it was a particularly rough night, and I hope you like sappy jasper because that’s what you get

Kisses your forehead and tells you how good you did, what a good boy are.

He pulls you close to him, wrapping his arms around you- loving if you cuddle up to him more by wrapping your arms back around him.

He likes to feel your body slowly relax as he talks to you, you sleepily mumbling responses.

Until your heart beat and breathing calms and you drift off to sleep, and he’s able to watch you sleep in his arms- god he’s so happy he found you

He loves when you trust him enough to sleep next to him

In the end he just wants you to feel safe and loved, even in your most intimate moments

(Uhm… so that’s my take on it…. i’ll see myself out- if you want a vampire mate version just lemme know- I honestly don’t know how I feel about this.)

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anthemxix · 3 years

Text

whumpay day 5: collapses / keeps getting back up

request from @sister-dear: “Collapses and keeps getting back up” seems ready made for one of the boys getting themselves out of a bad situation. (Powerful enemy toying with them, getting stuck away from everyone else while injured, extreme weather, and so on.)

if you haven't read sister's fic "my heart's forsaken me," i HIGHLY recommend it! it's truly beautiful! four is the link i understand least, but sister's portrayal of him here was very illuminating for me. thus i decided to write from his pov for this prompt, taking inspiration from her characterization, particularly the ways the four sword affected him. <3 hope you all enjoy!!

Jungle humidity made the air sticky, caused it to snag in Four’s throat before it could reach his lungs. Panting, he sagged against a ridged tree trunk, letting his good shoulder take his weight as he struggled to reel in a deep breath.

The tree’s fronds provided a pocket of shade that hardly reduced midday’s striking heat, which continued to draw sweat from his pores. Four tucked his chin towards his chest and watched a sweat droplet fall from his nose. He swore it evaporated before it hit the ground, melding with the smothering mugginess.

Four closed his eyes to concentrate on his breathing, but his thoughts were irredeemably ensnared by the heat and the absolute agony emanating from his right shoulder. He wished he could slump to the ground right here, just fall asleep and let the jungle consume him, but that wasn’t an option. He had to find the others.

Grunting, Four pushed himself from the tree and stumbled a few paces before centering his gravity. Unconsciously, his left hand migrated to his right shoulder, clamping down in a desperate effort to mitigate the pain.

It was in vain, of course. He was fairly certain the arrow jutting out of his back had shattered his shoulder blade, and there was nothing he could do about it. Even if he had a healing potion, he couldn’t drink it without someone else removing the arrow, for it was out of his reach and firmly embedded in bone and muscle.

Regardless, Four didn’t have the mental energy to waste on hypotheticals. He had to focus on finding the others.

Focusing on anything at all proved to be difficult, so Four did not notice the a tangle of tree roots underfoot. He tripped, and on instinct threw out his hands to catch himself.

Mistake. Big mistake. Moving his right arm jostled the arrow and drove overwhelming spikes of pain deep into his shoulder, the aftershock rippling across his upper back and down his arm. Unable to support himself on one hand, Four collapsed face-first into wet loam.

For a minute, he could only lie there, completely overtaken by anguish. As the pain ebbed, he clumsily pushed himself up onto his knees and fumbled with a shaky hand for his waterskin, draining the remaining pittance therein. Four wasn’t sure how long he’d been roaming the jungle, alone and injured and overheated, but he was sure he was deep in the throes of dehydration by now.

The empty waterskin slipped from his quavering hand, and he found that he couldn’t muster any concern for it. He abandoned it there, channeling every iota of energy he had towards standing up again and moving forward.

There was no path to follow here—frankly, Four wondered if any Hylian had ever been here at all—and he had long since lost his sense of direction, so the Smith was merely wandering now. He wondered if it would be better to stay put, to let the others find him, but he was afraid that if he stopped for too long he would, indeed, fall asleep for good. No, moving seemed like the best option.

Four was prone in the dirt again before he even registered that he was losing his balance. Had he tripped over something again? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t care. He could only think of the utter torment of his splintered shoulder blade.

He wasn’t sure how much more he could endure, and he was worried, too, at the possibility of permanent damage. The longer the fracture went untreated, the more likely that possibility became.

The thought evoked a humorless, twisted type of smile from Four, because wasn’t that something he knew so well? His body, his mind, had been cloven for months and months, and when, finally, he was cobbled back together, he couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t function in any sense of the word.

In the intervening years, he learned how to cope, but he was never whole again. Not like he’d been before the Sword.

He was never whole, only fragments sloppily stitched together, left with gaps that would never heal.

He couldn’t let that happen again, couldn’t afford to have more parts of him chiseled away.

With herculean effort and trembling limbs, Four managed to stand up once more. It was an act of sheer will, he thought, for all his physical stamina was surely sapped. But whether by the power of body or mind, he had to keep going. He needed his friends, and they, him.

Four staggered in a wobbling line, hobbling from tree to tree to steady himself. His breaths were quick, unsatisfactory wheezes; his face was slick with sweat; his shoulder was in unbearable agony. He floated prayers up to whatever deity might listen, begging to take one more step, one more step, one more step—

His final fall ignited pain so immense from his jostled wound that he passed out, for a moment, or a minute, or an hour. He was losing all sense of time, all sense of the layers that make up reality. Freefalling from sanity wasn’t a new ordeal, but that didn’t mean it was any less disturbing.

Get up, he told himself. The thought was fuzzy, garbled, but there. Get up.

Wobbling and groaning, Four propped his upper body up on his left elbow, leaving his right arm to hang limp, and he shimmied until his knees were under him. He needed to push up with his left arm, get himself kneeling upright, but he was shaking so badly now, and his damn shoulder was killing him, and he thought he’d be crying if his dehydrated body could pump out any tears—

But then a sound—a familiar one, yet strange, out-of-place here—reached him. Four lifted his head, straining to listen, daring to feel a blip of hope—and yes, there it was.

He had never been so happy to hear the howl of a wolf.

Four waited only seconds, though they seemed to stretch into hellish infinity, until he finally saw distant low plants waving, bumped by a sprinting Wolfie, who at last burst into view. Wolfie skidded in the wet dirt and, without pause, transformed behind a curtain of dark magic.

Frantic, Twilight dropped to his knees at Four’s side. Both hands wavered over the arrow wound; one finally settled on Four’s back. Four could hardly register it over the intense pain, but the weight of Twilight’s hand was comforting nonetheless.

“It’ll be okay, Smithy,” Twilight said, voice tremoring. Four could tell he was trying to rein in his panic, trying to calm himself. “It’s okay. You’re gonna be fine.”

In the distance, Four heard the crashing of people running through the jungle, and his heart fluttered just a little at the thought of his friends, his family, searching for him, wanting him back.

Four allowed his muscles to relax, and he crumpled back to the ground, his final bits of strength entirely spent. His consciousness started seeping away, and he did nothing to fight it.

Twilight’s words, soothing though tainted with concern, drifted to him. “We’ve got you, buddy. You’re going to be okay now.”

Four decided to believe that assurance as he faded to black, for he had nothing but faith in his friends.

#linked universe #lu #fanfiction #fanfic #lu four #four #whumpay2021 #my writing

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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 3 years

Text

i’m an idiot. i screw everything up.

Titans 3.03

still here, still doing this. these reviews take a fair bit of time that i cobble together across days (like, ten minute chunks during breaks, etc) and i tend to struggle to keep up with episodes as they come out. this means that by the time i’m done with one, most of my stuff is jossed (or geoffed in this case? idk) or outdated and the post sinks like a stone into oblivion. so! i’m going to change things up a bit with this one and write as i see the episode rather than collecting my thoughts later. in my experience with spn, that was a faster way to get them done.

anyway. let’s see how it goes! *shadowboxes*

SPOILERS ahead.

1. an auspicious start with some grave-digging!

digging up a grave and breaking open a coffin is some serious, back-breaking work--that dick did it on his own, likely straight after that fight with red hood, is a testament to the sheer intensity, stamina and discipline that he’s capable of. like, we like to joke about dick cooking cauliflower crust pizzas and making gar and rachel spar and memorise sun tzu--and despair at the obvious consequences of some of bruce’s parenting skills--but imagine crime-fighting almost daily without any superpowers, performing some of the most intense parkour in bulky, uncomfortable armour, doing detective work, pushing through every last barrier of exhaustion and then getting up to repeat it all over again the next day. dick probably thought he was going extra-easy on rachel and gar.

1.5. then again, dick probably had a hundred different easier ways to confirm whether jason was still buried or not, from using equipment to merely asking connor to have a quick look with his x-ray vision. but, no, he’s too caught up in confusion and terror, not really having come to terms with jason’s death in the first place, leave alone the possibility that he could be alive after all. he can’t possibly let the others know until he’s confirmed it himself, even if it means digging all through the night until his arms are jelly, thinking over and over again about jason’s eyes, jason’s voice, from behind that red mask.

... besides, dick has good reason to believe that he could’ve been hallucinating. wouldn’t be his first psychotic episode, after all.

that just imbues this sweaty, desperate, fingers-scrabbling-in-gravedirt scene with that much more poignancy, and a fair bit of bone-chilling terror. dick is horrified to realise that jason’s grave is empty, but a part of him is also probably relieved.

1.75 (... also it’s curious that we’re never shown any of the team asking to see jason’s grave after they come to wayne manor. i guess it’s because the writers--and the audience--know that jason is actually alive, but these people don’t know that. i don’t know if it’s sad or infuriating or both that they’re barely shown mourning him.)

2. oh GOD the sheer TENSION in kory saying, “i don’t want to say it, but--” and dick quickly interrupting, “it was jason. i saw him,” and hank giving him this loaded sidelong glance. i love how dick’s precarious mental health from last season is still this big elephant in the room but at least nobody’s blowing up in his face and questioning his every decision yet

2.25. i love the relative matter-of-factness with which they’re discussing a possible resurrection. and, of course, ra’s al ghul is brought up and quickly dismissed

(still wouldn’t put it past this show to bring him up at the very last second as the real real mastermind)

2.5. “maybe they can bring donna back” OH KORY

2.75. didn’t they have this same conversation about killing/not killing rose last season? man, the og titans make me tired.

and i don’t know if it’s just hank, but there’s a definite in-group/out-group vibe going on with the og titans, where they’re not only ready to consider killing anybody who threatens the group but makes it difficult for new people to fit in. donna and kory got along well with each other, but the dynamics between hank/donna/dawn and gar/rachel/rose were somewhat strained, and with jason, they were really fucking terrible. it makes sense when you think about how the titans started and how they broke up the first time--both were fairly disruptive events, i’d imagine, in that they probably got together to break away from their mentors and strike out on their own, and when they split up, it was the first time they felt directly responsible for the loss of an innocent life.

but the titans that dick is leading now is explicitly about mentoring a young generation of heroes, about second chances and found family. dick definitely wants to reach out to him first, and i have a feeling he’s going to be forced to make some sort of terrible Choice later on in this episode.

2.8. (honestly tho, this also seems like hank struggling with his own guilt re: jason; if red hood is not the kid that he failed, it’d be easier to fight him.)

HANK NO

4. honestly this season is already ticking off so many things on my wishlist, but i really wish dick would sit down with the newer members of his team and trust them with important information the same time that he’s telling them to the other members. gar searching for help and reassurance from a man who just dumped all of his responsibilities on his son overnight and went AWOL is a sad sight

4.25. has it only been just 48 hours????? wow! jason’s definitely been planning the red hood gig for a long time now...

5. ezekiel, my man! shady looking guy gets into your cab without a destination in mind... no problem, get right in! said guy gets a call to go to the observatory when he’s barely even looked out of the window so far at gotham... yep, a damn tourist! i want more ezekiel in this show.

5.25. (of course jason has upturned table lamps all along the floor... we have to *gritted teeth* balance the TEAL with the ORANGE don’t we?)

5.5. “dick’s a fucking psycho--he could be following you right now.” hank... has no objection to that lol

5.25. hank, hank... this is bad-decision-palooza. i can’t imagine that hank actually thought that jason was reaching out to him for help, given that the last time hank and jason had any substantial interaction hank had been one of the people accusing jason of sabotaging the team. but for him to go seek out jason and go along with his demands without any backup, weapons or equipment? not the best idea he’s ever come up with.

(add to that getting into the swimming pool of a condemned gym... oh yuck.)

((yes, i have enough self-restraint to not cap his ass.))

(((cap his ass! HA!)))

5.5. do you think jason has bugs/monitoring equipment planted in wayne manor to monitor the titans, or remote access to the cave’s systems? wouldn’t put it past him.

6. oh man, hank came back before dick and the others could meet ezekiel! this is TRAGIC

6.25. i mean, it’s plot-convenient that connor was able to give so much information about the bomb from just looking at it once, but i also like to think it’s the luthor-side of him coming to the fore. it also reminds me of that (in)famous scene from the new52 run of Nightwing comics, where a bomb was attached to nightwing’s heart and luthor disabled it by killing nightwing (temporarily). it’s a neat little callback.

6.55. “where i come from, you go after family? there’s no mercy.” BUT THAT’S THE PROBLEM ISN’T IT

6.75. i mean, dick’s making sense: this is a game, and they need to get it off playing out on jason’s terms. but having a member of his team in his face, doubting his reasoning and every decision? a very familiar sight.

6.8. krypto with an a+ sense of humour? also a very familiar sight.

7. wayne enterprises... providing the military with... bombs that can be implanted in humans? a BIIIIG yikes. i guess it’s not too many steps above developing clandestine intra-dermal trackers and implanting them in your own sons, and bruce probably thought they could be used as part of negotiation tactics, but still... YIKES.

7.5. on the other hand, conner being asked to build a deactivation advice seems part of a growth arc that started from last season... he knows so much, but part of growing is learning, and part of learning is using what you know to create something new.

8. oh man, my heart broke at hank going “i’m an idiot... i screw everything up.” like. for him to go like this, after being brought down to such a low last season? struggling with pain and addiction and his relationship with the love of his life? it’s so sad.

9. oh, oh, oh! ronnie from schitt’s creek! i love her!

9.5. “one of jason’s minions” took his body out of the morgue... how deliciously morbid that he planned out his own death like this!

10. TALK TO HANK, DICK

honestly, tho, i’m quite impressed with dick here. trying to think beyond just the most alarming part of the crisis at hand, keeping his cool, delegating tasks, frequently touching base with different members of his team... well done.

10.25.... whoops, spoke too soon. i’m genuinely confused here, tho. where did the van full of gold bars come from? why did they stop there and get out? how did dawn even know about this?

on the other hand, it’s cool to know dove has bulletproof feathers!

10.5. eh... curran walters isn’t really selling red hood’s menace to me so far. but then again, if titans version of red hood is vulnerable-kid-with-father-issues-trying-to-overcompensate, then yeah! yeah, it makes sense.

11. “when bats have sex, they gotta have something to hang from” OH GOD HANK

... because i want smiley!gar on my blog :)

11.5. awww. i feel sorry for hank but NONE of these fuckers deserve gar except maybe kory

12. ohhh FUCK! look at jason being exactly one step ahead of the titans at every turn. nice.

no really, i love the building stakes and the building mystery - i feel like the deathstroke arc from last season should’ve been more like this. the flashbacks about jericho and rose came too late and after too much build up, which resulted in a very underwhelming and confusing season throughline.

13. HANK AND DIIIIIICCCKKK

“you’re doing your best by me. always have.” WAILING HERE

it also kills me to think that hank thinks that his imminent death is because of his failure to keep the team together (when he was clearly struggling with his own issues and was spiralling towards rock-bottom) and his fear that he will once again be the cause of the team falling apart.

also:

14. “i grew up... you can, too. you just have to face your fear.”

yep, got scarecrow’s grubby little fingerprints aaaaalllll over this.

14.25. nightwing’s got specialised batarangs! yay! (somehow i can’t see this universe’s dick calling them “wingdings”)

15. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

oh man, that was devastating. well done, show. fuck, well done, jason.

this is going to bring up all sorts of “if onlys” for the team. i can’t wait for some fucking aftermath.

#titans #titans spoilers #dick grayson #hank hall #dawn granger #garfield logan #conner kent #jason todd #a tragic jalebi #meta

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closer-stars · 4 years

Text

Gut Feeling (3)

Member: San Genre: Comfort, Fluff, some Angst Word Count: 9.5k Requested: Yes Content: Part 3 of Gut Feeling/San x Manager!Reader series ayooo. Roughly around Inception/Immortal Songs time period. Food mention. References to some of the stuff they’ve written for the fans also are in this lol. Reader comforts San also in this. The fun kinda starts here. Note: pls this was tricky to write and edit... lmao, gotta juggle manager work with relationships amirite. Anyways, I hope this is okay cause this was... A Field Day. Not much else to say except hahaha Flashes a Peace Sign. I’ve proofread this a couple of times, and to just specify again, I’m trying to keep this gender neutral, so if there’s a slip up of gender specific traits and the like, please do tell me. Ty to @hwaberrykiwi , @yeocult and @yeochikin for dealing with my brain farts and questions as I wrote this. ilysm

Part 1, Part 2

It’s been hectic for everyone in the company. Everyone’s been almost up to their necks preparing for the comeback. Various deals to be made for various photoshoots; it was a miracle that some brands have invited the boys for their magazines rather than the other way around. Despite their lengthy hiatus, it seemed their popularity only continued to grow. It wasn’t a bad thing (at least they managed to catch up on rest), the pressure to make sure they make up for what was lost is there and perhaps an added burden.

Everyone’s been working harder to make sure their performances for their promotional period were good, if not better than how they did in the past. You haven’t been running on your usual hours of sleep-- save for a few power naps here and there, having to bring the boys back and forth from the company to stylists to the dorm to recordings and so on. You can only assume that it’ll get wilder once promotions do start. Yet, the gradual climb of their activities is met with mixed feelings: relief to be back on stage, worry for everyone’s health, pressure to meet not only the standards of the public but also theirs.

So now, San’s overthinking once more, getting caught up in his insecurities. The closer their comeback is, the later he stays. While he always does stay in the studio up until he can barely dance properly, the past few weeks have been harsh on him. You’ve only been with this group for a few months but you can already read him. He’s always been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. He’s also the type to find himself being his own competition. He’s focusing on his shortcomings as a dancer, frustrated that there were certain parts that he couldn’t do properly. You’re in the studio with him again. With the amount of times you’ve done this, you’ve eventually blocked off parts of your schedule for him. The rest of the boys have gone home at this point, catching up on rest to prepare for the next day.

You sit back, taking small sips of your iced green tea as you watch helplessly as San goes through the same counts, never quite getting it the way he wants to. “San..” you call softly.

“Just give me thirty minutes.” This is the sixth time he’s said it. He hears your heavy sigh and he looks at you, brows furrowed, still too engrossed by the demons in his head. “What?” He rasps out. It’s a miracle you could hear each other over the music but you do. With his question, you beckon him over. He sighs, stopping the music before standing in front of you. You pat the seat next to you. He doesn’t fight back and drops himself next to you. “What?” he repeats himself.

“You’re getting in your head again.”

Your words catch him off guard but he tries to scoff at it. A feeble attempt to brush off your words. Was he that easy to read?

“San, I’m serious. In the time I’ve worked with you, I know when you’re getting into your head.” You say it clearer this time. “Talk to me.” You say though it sounds more like a plea. He’s a stubborn one. You readjust yourself to face him, your drink now in between your legs as you reach for his water bottle. “Maybe not as your manager but as your friend.” You just wanted to help him, as much as his stamina is better than anyone you know, he’s still human.

San’s head rests against the white wall, the cold feeling of the wall cooling down how hot his head has become from constant exertion. He can still feel the muscle soreness from his workout from two days ago. “There’s so much on my mind.” He murmurs, gnawing slightly at the rim of his water bottle in thought.

“We got time.” You return softly.

He doesn’t know what to say. It’s not an everyday thing that he talks of his worries. He’s been the type to carry the burden of others but rare were the times he lets others carry his burdens. He lets your words sink in first as he tries to figure out with thought to speak out about first. He takes small sips to gather enough words to sound cohesive despite the incohesive thoughts. He sets his bottle down and that’s when he starts talking. He’s not happy with how he’s dancing lately. He sees how better Yunho is compared to him, how quick he gets the choreography. While San does know how to help others, asking for help for himself is another thing in itself.One way or another, he figures it out on his own. A blessing and a curse it was to be this independent. “...There’s so much I lack in, I don’t think I’ll live up to their expectations too.” His eyes are closed the entire time he speaks, not wanting you to see that he’s near tears. It’s one part pride, one part insecurity, one part pressure, and a whole lot of perfectionism. The fact he manages to talk about it is a step out of it but the struggle to get through it is another thing.

It pains you to see him like this. No matter how much he improves, he still sees where he lacks. It’s normal but to see him have his insecurities eat at him hurts you. “San, look at me.” You urge softly. He doesn’t move but you notice that his breathing has slowed down. You do know he’s still awake so you tilt his head to make him look at you. “Look at me, open your eyes, San.” It’s the gravity in your words and tone that makes him follow your order. He sees his reflection in your eyes and for a moment, he’s stunned. The distance, or lack thereof, is disorienting him. He’s never seen you this intense-- well he has, but not like this, this protective that he can’t get himself to move or look away. He could easily shake your hold off or look at a corner but he can’t.

Goddamn, what is going on?

“San, you’re amazing out there. Everyday, you improve. Everyday, you take everyone’s breath away with how much you put yourself into your performances. The performer I saw months back has improved to become the performer he is now. But San, you’re still a human at the end of the day. It’s okay to go at your own pace. ” Your words make his chest tight. Those were the same words he tells his members and his fans. He knows the turmoil of putting yourself up in a competition where you’re the only player yet he always does it even if it hurts him. But the feeling of having someone say it back to him, it feels different. It’s words he needed to hear not from him, but from someone else. To hear it from you washes over him in mind numbing comfort. “It doesn’t matter if Yunho gets it before you do, or if you don’t do it perfectly in the first try.” You continue, the pad of your thumb wiping away the tears that have fallen from his eyes. “What matters is you’re improving. San, you’re still human. It’s okay.” You’ve heard the stories of how they started as trainees over meals you’ve shared with them. From one trainee who couldn’t dance properly to being the idol that others look up to for their passion in dancing. He’s become the standard from what you were observing.

Your words make him rest his forehead against your shoulder. In other circumstances, you would’ve made a face at the feeling of sweat seeping onto your shirt. For now, you hold him, rubbing his back gently as he quietly cries out his frustrations. There were things he wished he could share these concerns with Seonghwa but he couldn’t. He never could. Yet, here he is, showing his vulnerability to you. Someone who he has only known for a few months. Someone who he has become vulnerable around. Even in his blubbering incoherent mess of thoughts, you somehow manage to be on the same page as him, bringing him back to reality, bringing him the clarity he needs.

It takes a while before his sniffles even into breathing. You tilt your head to check on him and he pulls away when he feels you shift. “I’m sorry.” he mumbles, wiping his tears away.

You shake your head, turning down his apology. Your eyes shine gently at him as you study him carefully. Damn, even your eyes feel a little hot. His shoulders aren’t as heavy as they were earlier. His hands reaching up to rub at his eyes. It wouldn’t be long now before exhaustion takes him under to slumber. “Let’s go home, you deserve the rest.”

“Can we get something to eat first…” He asks, just in time for his stomach to growl in agreement.

“7/11?”

He nods, his bottom lip jutting out slightly.

“Get some comfort food, I’ll pay for it this time.”

--------

The ride back is relaxed this time, well as relaxed it could be when San’s in a better mood. San sings at the top of his lungs to the songs that play on the radio. It’s tricky to keep yourself serious on the road when he’s being this carefree. It comes to the point where even you sing along with him, though softly. A small voice in your head sulks at how this is short lived. By the time you reach the apartment complex, it’s back to reality. It’s back to being their manager. Somehow you wondered if in another life, would the two of you meet as well? Would the two of you get along still? You shake the thoughts away quickly, mentally reminding yourself to focus.

“Something on your mind?”

You wonder if you’re just as easy to read as he is to you. “Mm?” You glance at the stop light then turn your gaze to him. The question takes a moment to register then you reassure him. “Ah, it’s nothing.” He doesn’t get the chance to press when the red shifts to green, pushing you to start driving again.

It was quiet for the rest of the trip, until you arrived at the parking lot again. Once you switch the engine off, he lets out a groan of relief. The sweet embrace of sleep is so close, if only he could just be in bed with a snap of his fingers but alas, this world is dependent on machinery. The two of you hop off the car and head to the elevator.

You press his floor number and he waits for the second button to be pushed but it never happens. The doors of the elevator close already and is already bringing the two of you to his floor. “Wait, but--”

You cut him off. “You need your sleep first so I’m dropping you off first.” You glance at him under the cold lighting of the elevator. “Even your eyes look tired already, Sannie.” He catches his reflection on the elevator’s reflective surface and you’re right. His eyes are puffy, his eyelids are heavy and he makes a face at how he looks. You glance at your watered down green tea then at his hands. “Are your hands cold?” You ask him.

The odd question catches him off guard and instead of feeling them, he wraps his hands on your cheeks. “What do you think?” The sharp contrast in temperatures causes you to yelp, swatting his hands away.

“I was gonna tell you to press your cold fingers to the puffy areas!” You complain, trying to stay far from his reach.

It takes a moment for realization to set in his eyes. “Oh my god, you called me Sannie!” He squeals, elated to know that your relationship has gotten to the point where you call him a nickname. A common nickname but he loves it coming from you. You laugh behind your cup and the fun is cut short with the doors opening.

You keep the doors open for him. “Come on, Sannie.” You repeat just for him. “Get your rest. Manager Bae will be bringing you guys to the company and your schedules tomorrow.” You inform him, still smiling at how happy he looks now.

“What about you?”

“Paperwork plus bringing the rest of the staff to check out the places for your music videos.” You coo at the sight of his pout. “I’ll bring you guys home if I get back early, I promise.”

“Ah before I forget..” you rummage through your bag and pull out his hoodie. “Here.” You state as you hand it back to him. The look on his face makes you a little defensive. “I promise, I washed your hoodie before returning it.” Your words make him chuckle and he puts it in his bag.

“I wasn’t saying anything, but thank you.” He teases but then extends his pinky out as he steps out, bringing it back to the topic at hand. His free arm blocking the doors from closing in on the two of you. You don’t bat an eyelash as the child-like reassurance, you link your pinky with his, sealed with your thumbs pressed against each other.

“Now shoo! Sleep well, Sannie.” You say, pressing your floor number this time, as the two of you smile at each other until the doors completely cover the other.

--------

Everything's moving so fast. For every music show that had to be cancelled, two more guest appearances take over. You were ready for the constant moving being a manager entails but not to this extent. After this performance, you had to bring them to their next radio appearance. At least there was an allowance time to bring them back to the company then to the radio appearance. You were a little relieved though, since the talk with San, he’s been able to perform with a clearer head. You watch each member perform and you need multiple runs to watch each and everyone of them. They always had little tricks in their sleeves that more often than not, you weren’t sure which ones they would do until the day of. While you know that they wouldn’t cry in the middle of a performance, a small part of you was alarmed at how believable they looked.

The results of their hard work were evident, various news sites have been tracking their growth, and before they knew it, they’ve sold over a million albums, their songs are charting upon release. They’ve improved immensely and it was getting tricky to not let yourself go “I told you so.” to San who months earlier was in his head, doubting everything. Hell you remember even having to talk to Hongjoong on the ride home over his fears for his members and himself.

The stylists had their phones out recording the announcement. As much as you want to do the same, you found yourself fiddling with your sleeves, nervous as well. They always take their loses gracefully as said by the managers but still you worry. As intense as they were with their work, they can be intense with their emotions too. Once it was announced that ATEEZ is indeed taking home the trophy for Inception, everyone screams. You let out the breath you were holding the entire time in relief, and you feel pride swell in your chest. Everyone celebrates in the dressing room over their first win. You could see how the group is doing their best to keep their cool in front of the cameras but you can already expect the amount of excited screams and jumps from them. Manager Bae and some of the stylists had gone out to quickly get them cake to celebrate when they return. “Stay here so that they won’t notice anything off.” Bae goes with a grin. He looked like a proud hyung for the boys, still giddy over the win. You quickly push him off to buy the cake, losing precious time.

You watch them on TV, singing to their song as they bounce about on stage. They’ve thanked everyone as they dance about. You see Manager Bae with another stylist lighting the cake in the back of the room and you sigh in relief. At least they got back in time for the credits to roll on the TV, evidently cutting short the encore stage. Yet, you know those boys would take a while before they’re back in the dressing room with everyone. “You got back fast..” You say softly, making sure the candle doesn’t get blown off from any external factors.

“We asked to have the cake packed already, Minhee paid for it and made me go ahead.”

“We have to pay her back then.”

“Hey don’t worry too much, she used the company card.” That shuts you up. ATEEZ’s excited yelling elicits a surprised yelp upon their entrance. They yell louder at the sight of the cake and this time you bring out your phone to capture the moment of celebration. It takes a while for them to settle down, taking selfies with their trophy along with a group shot to thank the fans for their hard work. The cake is back in its packaging, Seonghwa bouncing on the balls of his feet while he has the cake in his hands.

“Aah, Hyung be careful! What if the cake gets destroyed?” San complains lightheartedly to which Seonghwa sulks for a moment.

“What are you talking about?” The older returns, hints of his accent slipping out in his defense. “The cake’s secure inside, right Manager-nim?” He continues, looking at you to back him up.

The way he looks at you really makes you wonder how he was the eldest sometimes but you decide to play along. “It’s safe and sound in there, Ddeonghwa but still, be careful!” You return, patting the top of his head, or at least whatever you could reach as you busy yourself with packing everything up.

“Manager-nim! We did great on stage didn’t we?” San asks from behind you, wanting a head pat or some praise from you as well. To his luck, you had to be called to help out in carrying some make up bags out of the room as the stylist’s hands were already full. He deflates for a moment as you rush about, leaving him in the dust with his members.

“You’re getting obvious.” Seonghwa muses as he pats the younger’s head with his free hand.

His words fluster him, his bottom lip jutting out once more. “What are you talking about..” He mutters through a pout. He just wanted praise, is that so bad?

His defense makes the older chuckle. “Sure. Let’s get ready to leave, we still have a radio appearance tonight. Our managers are gonna wait for us by the parking lot.”

--------

As the promotion season progresses, you don’t keep track of the days anymore. You just keep track by the agenda for the day and for the following day, you’re just waiting for the promotions to end at this point. You’re getting sleep but it’s not enough, just to get by and still function. You’re still getting the basic necessities of a human being but you hate to admit that you need more to feel a little more awake.

San notices your lack of energy as they wait for their call time for their next TV appearance so while the other members busy themselves with a few games. He sees you dozing off again, leaning against the wall as you keep yourself warm with your own jacket this time. He doesn’t ask if you’re doing okay, your eyebags and tensed muscles tell him enough. He sits next to you as you try to find a comfortable position to catch up on rest. “You can lean on my shoulder.” He says softly, making sure to not startle you. Regardless of his volume, you sit up straight again at his voice. You don’t make a coherent word come out of your mouth except for something that sounds like a mix of “I’ll be okay” and “No thanks”. One way or another, you found a position comfortable enough for you to not get a stiff neck and stay warm. He lets you do what you do and instead lingers near you in case you fall into an uncomfortable position.

An hour passes and you wake up to your phone vibrating to wake you up. You shuffle about in your spot, stretching your limbs as you try to gain your bearings. The presence of another person next to you makes you wary of stretching too much, until you look over at them and you see San dozing off in his seat. You look around you and some of the members have dozed off as well, though the rest of them were in comfortable positions. You bundle your jacket up and carefully put it under his head. You pick up on his soft snores before slipping out of the room quietly. Your feet lead you to the nearest vending machine, looking for your pick me up throughout the day. As you count your loose change to pay for the coffee, someone’s voice startles the living daylights out of you.

“Coffee again?”

You turn to the voice and it’s San, who clearly looks like he just woke up but can’t rub his eyes. Instead, he takes his time blinking repeatedly to rid the sleep off from his gaze. “What? This isn’t the first time you’ve seen me drink coffee.”

“That’s going to be your fourth coffee..” He points out, and you can hear in his voice that he’s waking up now. He’s also a little concerned by your gradual rise in caffeine intake. His concern doesn’t faze you as you continue with your purchase.

“At least I don’t drink Americanos..” you say with a light tone. The last thing he needs to worry is about your health. You’ve been in worse situations and this isn’t that bad still. “San, I’m still okay, I promise.” You try to reassure him, though it seems that he doesn’t buy it. For now, he lets it be.

“At least I don’t confuse an americano with a latte.” He returns with a smirk He remembers your mishap a few weeks back of mixing up his americano with your latte. The face you pulled after getting hit with the bitterness, only to realize that he has your order. It was a small mistake but looking at it now, it was probably the start of your stress. His retort makes you look at him, miffed at the idea he would use that against you. He sees your reaction and is already ready to apologize until he hears you laugh. You turn on your heels and head back to your designated room and it takes him a few minutes to snap out of it and follow you. “I’m serious though. That’s your fourth coffee and you haven’t been sleeping a lot.” San points out softly, greeting any artist or staff that they pass by.

You greet them too, but your bottom lip is against the rim of your coffee in thought. “I’m still getting used to the new environment. You have to admit the cancellation of other shows and the additional guestings are disorienting too.”

You had a point but that wasn’t what he was getting at. “Manager-nim, what I’m saying is, please take care of yourself too.” The two of you reach the door and before any of you step in, you look up at the male, and he can see how your brain is working.

“I will, now let’s get inside, they might worry where you’ve been.” You say eventually and before you could open the door, he beats you to it and lets you enter first.

He hopes you keep your word.

--------

On the free days they had, they were back in the studio rehearsing for another performance. They already knew of the offer and without hesitation accepted it. Win or lose, this was a big thing for them. While you managed their schedules with the other managers, you also had to juggle keeping track of the logistics of their stage design. The idea they have is an ambitious one you had to admit, rare do you see idol groups going this far but they did carry the philosophy of performing as if this stage will be their last.

A small issue comes up in their stage planning, the dresser already got the green light but they worry about the prop to drive in the theme. The various lipstick shades offered to them didn’t quite stand out to them, hell even the make up artists were a little torn on which one would be best. “Just mix two shades or textures.” You suggest. While you had a fair knowledge of make up, it’s not up to par with those who have this as their profession. The suggestion you had given had already taken into account the dark and harsh lighting they’d pull for the stage. While you carry your laptop everywhere you go, you also have some copies of your paperwork in your phone-- just to save your back and shoulders from unnecessary pain. Would glossy finish work to bring it out? Shit, which red shades would even be a stark difference against San’s skin. “Technically this would also mean San has one shot in doing this.” Your head was swimming with thoughts and you rub your eyes as the exhaustion still hangs over you. You wanted the best for the boys in any situation. Him and Jongho were going to carry the atmosphere and they had to make it work. You stare at the shades of red that marked the back of San’s hand. You had to admit, it reminded you of your hand whenever you went out with the makeup artists.

The make up artists suddenly perk up at the suggestion, an idea quickly forming in their head, they grab San’s hand to look for the two shades that were the closest to what they had brainstormed. Once they found it, they made a note of which shades and decided to try and hunt for it. San looks at you, thoroughly thankful for your suggestion as it had solved their last issue. “As expected from Manager-nim’s brain.” Hongjoong praises and you flash a small smile. You take note of the final list of everything from their outfits to the lighting and props. You have to send this list by tonight and you only have three hours before the deadline. Talk about clutch.

As they rush about you, you settle yourself on the bench, typing away furiously at your near dying laptop. Maybe you only had thirty minutes before the deadline at this rate. You read the details outloud to everyone, making sure you didn’t leave anything out. Fifteen minutes after small edits. Once satisfied, you send the files to the producers and close your laptop, relieved to have one thing crossed off your list. Manager Bae senses your exhaustion and eyes the boys. “I’m driving tonight anyways, go and eat your dinner already and catch up on sleep until we need to bring them home.”

You don’t go against his words this time and keep your laptop in your bag. “Watch over my stuff, I’ll grab something at the 7/11 downstairs. Want anything?” He shakes his head and you don't push your offer as he returns his focus on the boys. You only bring your wallet and your phone. Your earphones are drowning out how your brain begs for rest. Once in the store, you pick the first thing your stomach can tolerate from the lack of rest and for once you skip on the coffee and opt to grab the orange juice. A small attempt at staying healthy.

You’re back in the company, eating your sandwich as carefully as possible and even through your earphones you can hear them rehearsing. The clock tells you it’s somewhere past midnight, you don’t know where the arm is, you just know it’s past twelve and you’re beyond exhausted. Once you finished with your sandwich you head back to the studio, the boys just a few counts away from the ending. Carefully, you slide your way to the bench with Manager Bae watching over them. “Did I miss anything?” You ask as you twist open your orange juice.

He shakes his head. “They’re wrapping up in an hour and a half.” That makes you settle in your seat, taking small sips of your juice. The way it makes you feel a little lighter is concerning but you push forward. As long as you have your sense of taste, you’re fine. As they finish up for the night, you’re already zoning out, your fingers dragging themselves against the edges of the bottle to keep yourself awake.

You snap out of it every now and then. When you do, your eyes go to Jongho and Seonghwa, the two members who had just recovered from their injuries. They storm through the long rehearsal, they’re also the last ones standing as they walk around after the intensive run. The others already on the floor breathing heavily. Manager Bae snaps you out of your thoughts when the choreographers start packing up. Time to end the day.

You pull up some of the members who seem to have become one with the floor. Sometimes having to use both hands from how they’re dragging their own weight down. “Boys, we’re going home. Come on.” You grunt amidst their whines of a few minutes to rest. San gets up without your help but helps you pick up the other members. You count the members, looking for the missing two. You glance over and you see Seonghwa has busied himself making sure Hongjoong goes home tonight. Once satisfied, you hoist your bag over your shoulder, stretching your tired body. “That’s all eight.”

San looks over at you, your eyes looking a lot heavier than usual. “Are you free tomorrow?” He asks, pulling off his beanie to ruffle his hair.

His question confuses you, how sudden it is to ask someone about their schedule for the following day, especially if their schedule technically revolves around them. “Yes, why? Do you need me to bring you somewhere?” You ask, as you wait for everyone to leave the studio.

“Sleep in.” He says and that’s the only time you stared at him. The incredulous look on your face makes him sigh. “Hey, Manager-hyung. Does Manager-nim have a day off soon?” San asks Manager Bae and you shift your gaze to the mentioned man.

The man looks at San with a raised eyebrow. “Yes because otherwise that would be concerning.” Just as San was about to say something to add to that, you cut him off.

“San, do not.” You actually don’t know what he was about to say exactly but you were not going to let him tell you when to rest. “I already made my day offs on the days after your promotion cycle, and I’m not changing that. I’ll just come to work a little later tomorrow.” It’s a compromise to ease his protective instincts kicking out. You sense that Seonghwa has been waiting for the two of you, not wanting to leave you behind. “Come on, Seonghwa’s already waiting for us.” With that, you make your way to him, already starting small talk with him and Hongjoong.

San trails behind you, watching you chat with his hyungs without a worry, as if your head wasn’t spinning a few moments ago. He wonders if you’ve caught feelings for one of his hyungs. You did spend more time with them for various reasons. Was it Hongjoong or was it Seonghwa? Deep in his thoughts, he lingers around Yunho as everyone heads towards the car, trying his best to not always look at you. Even if he doesn’t, thoughts run in his head, thinking back to times you’ve interacted with Seonghwa or Hongjoong. In his head, it seemed that you and Seonghwa were more believable than you and Hongjoong. You’ve shared a few moments with Seonghwa in the past. Unknowingly, his brows scrunch up at how his thoughts have led him to such a conclusion but he keeps it to himself. The chatter in the car has mellowed down to tired sighs and soft hums: sounds not enough to drown or push away the thoughts that tangle themselves in his head. So he turns up the volume in his earphones, anything to distract himself from the thoughts. The songs that play are their latest songs and the final version of their remake. While he can’t dance in the car, he closes his eyes and visualises how he wants to do the stage. It doesn’t take much time before he falls asleep on the way home.

The murmurs and sighs eventually became even breathing and soft snoring from the boys. You and Manager Bae softly discussing the next schedules and shifts. “Is it alright if I come in a little late tomorrow? I just really need to catch up on rest.” You tread carefully with the question. Promotions have already on their way and you’re already asking for a small break.

“It’s fine. I can cover for you until you arrive.” He reassures. “What time do you plan to come in?”

Your phone unlocks under your touch and you look at the calendar. “1 PM. I’ve done all the paperwork and logistical work for their Immortal Songs appearance and other radio appearances. I’m just waiting on the replies from the producers to relay to externals.” Somehow you manage to finish the last of your orange juice. Looks like you’re grabbing hot tea instead of your usual iced coffee tomorrow.

The man next to you nods at your word. “You’ve been working hard lately too, it’s okay to rest every now and then.” He says with a laugh. “No wonder you and the boys get along.” The road in front of you is near empty, just a few taxis carrying businessmen tired from a long day of work and drinks. “But honestly, don’t stretch yourself too thin. If there’s anything you can’t do, Manager Yoon or I can help you.”

The words touch you for a moment that you tip your head in thanks. “Yes, I’ll try my best.” Despite your sluggish feeling, you stay awake on the way home.

--------

You arrive at the apartment complex with Manager Bae and you waking up the boys who have fallen asleep. They only had to be told that they’re at the apartment already to wake up and make their way to the elevator. San was the last to wake up-- as expected, and you were the last one with him, as usual. “Sannie, wake up. We’re home.” You say softly as you shake him awake. He doesn’t reply. “San, wake up. I can’t carry you.” Again, silence. You sigh and look through your contacts, about to call Yunho to help you wake him up. “San, if you don’t wake up I’m leaving you in this parking lot to sleep.” His eyes open at that threat. “San, I swear…” you trail off with a sigh, somehow you can’t get mad at his antics. He slides out of the car and with that you lock the car up, making sure everything else is secure.

This time he brings you to your apartment first. He didn’t take a no for an answer, typical of him. The two of you quietly let the elevator bring you up to your designated floor. On the usual, you and San would be talking about the day or whatever was in his mind. This time, it was quiet. You stand next to him, and you lean your head against his shoulder, a long exhale of relief slipping through your lips. “You’ve worked hard, you know?” You say softly, his eyes on the display as the number goes up. “You’ve done a lot too, Strawberry.” The nickname came because of how your phone case had strawberry prints all over it. Along with your excitement for anything strawberry flavored.

No wonder you and Seonghwa got along so well.

You smile at his words. “Thank you. You did amazing today too.” You return softly. Your words make him smile as well. He wishes the trip to your floor was slower, just to make the most out of moments like this.

He kind of hopes that you don’t feel how hard his heart is pounding now.

The elevator rings cutting the moment short and you stand up straight again. He doesn’t stay in the elevator this time. He opts to walk with you to your apartment. You look at him, a quiet question at him walking you to your apartment but he gives you no answer. Despite that, you aren’t scared. “Sannie, if you’re worried that I won’t rest, I will.” You start. “I’m coming to work at 1PM so it’s Manager Bae or Yoon bringing you guys to the company tomorrow.” You hand the car keys to him to give to either manager tomorrow.

A sigh of relief comes out of him at your words. Without the cameras, he mellows down. “That’s good. I’ll see you later in the day then.” He says as he makes his way back to the elevator as you take a step into your safety.

“Also, San?”

He stops in his tracks and looks at you, waiting for you to continue.

“Thank you for taking care of me too. Please take care of yourself too.” You don’t think that he’s been a factor to you being able to keep yourself together. It’s part of your job to keep your shit together even in high amounts of stress but his concern for you warms you greatly. He's become a part of why you managed to keep yourself together for this long too.

He smiles at your words and hopes you sleep peacefully for the night. It’s been a long day for everyone. The last thing you see is his warm smile and back before you let yourself retreat into the comforting safety of your home. You figured that seeing his smile to end the day wasn’t so bad.

--------

Everyone’s nervous for the stage, even you, but you can’t show your nerves. There’s enough nerves going about in this room for the ten of you. Their stylists are the first to arrive at their room, and everything goes on like clockwork. This time it was you and Manager Yoon who took over this shift. The previous days of rehearsal were really just to make sure the clothes fit them right along with the props. Everything they've prepared for has led to this day. As much as they are hungry for the win, the mere idea of them being in the same room and performing on the same stage as big names was incredibly humbling and overwhelming for them.

The director gives them a run through of the schedule for the night which could stretch over to past midnight. In your bag were a few copies of their albums that they would give to the seniors and fellow idols, and you wondered how fans could carry so many albums when the albums in your bag was already your workout for the day. Seonghwa shuffles over to you after the director lets them get ready for the recording.

“Let me take these from you.” He says softly as the rest of you enter the room.

“Seonghwa!” He manages to get your bag off your hands and sets it down within your reach.

“Even I know they’re too heavy to carry for prolonged periods of time.” The male quips and you can’t help but sigh a little at his thoughtful actions. Glad to see that even without cameras, they’re still the same kind hearted boys.

You wave him off, handing his clothes to get ready for the long night ahead of them. “Now go change and get ready, you got a stage to tear down.” You watch him walk off to get changed and you catch San looking at your direction, as if too deep in thought. It takes awhile for you to snap him out of his thoughts. “Are you okay?” You ask once he gets back to reality.

He blinks for a few moments, a little startled by the sudden lack of distance. “H-huh? Yeah.” The answer stumbling out of his mouth. He’s not gonna admit that he saw you and Seonghwa talk the entire time. The shaky answer musters a small smile from you. You hand him his clothes, gently pushing him to the dressing room. “Come on, go get ready. Show everyone what you guys got.” You hope he doesn’t catch the soft meow you let out as a joke to lift his spirits. Yet he does, take it from someone who’s a complete cat person to catch anything cat related. Once the meow lands on his ears, he smiles so brightly.

“Ah! So cute!!” He squeals softly, his dimples making an appearance but he listens to you nonetheless. Even when his thoughts are in such a disarray, your words don’t fail to bring him peace even for a while. He can’t get himself to be bitter if someone else makes you happier than him. As long as you’re happy, shouldn’t that be enough? But he's greedy, he wants you to be happy because of him too. He’s also aware of how selfish that sounds and he's disgusted by how self centered he can be.

Once he leaves you alone with the rest of the staff, you bring out the albums, arranging them for when they visit the rest of the artists later on. One by one the members come out of the dressing room, fully dressed for their stage. One third of the magic is done, you were looking forward to how they’d look minutes before being called on stage. Now you can’t be in that part of the stage, only seeing the cuts through the monitor in the room. Once that was all finished, they’re ushered to the room where the magic begins. You and Manager Yoon give them supportive words as they leave the room.

The recording goes by without a hitch but god was it long. You and Manager Yoon often went out to grab food or drinks for the staff in the same room as them to stay awake, even for the boys during the long breaks in between shoots. You didn't want to admit it out loud but you wish the shoot goes by quickly, but that was wishful thinking. There’s so much to record that goes on in this show and you know the boys can’t and wouldn’t complain. Being in a room with the legends, as San would say, is already an honor in itself. Performing in front of all of them? Another honor. You can only assume that the boys are going through so much emotions that they have to keep in control in front of the cameras.

Everyone’s given a two hour break to eat dinner and freshen themselves up in time for the second half of the shoot. It doesn’t take the boys ten minutes to barge into the dressing room, still energized, if not more. The management was able to bring the entire room their dinner with some refreshments. As if they weren’t already loud, the sight of their meals made their voices boom through the room.

It’s clear in Seonghwa’s eyes that he has to keep in mind his portions. While you respect his decisions, he sees how you look at him. He reassures with a look as well, knowing how concerned you get with how strict he can be with himself. The eldest member settles himself near you once he grabs his share of the meal. It’s because of him that the other members were sitting around you too, all of them telling stories of how the recording went and the antics they did.

You stare at Yunho incredulously upon hearing that he made his ears turn red in less than five seconds. All he could do is hide his stuffed smile behind his hand, trying to shift the attention to the fact that San did another impersonation for national TV.

“So I guess that he also did some taekwondo too?”

“You know me too well.”

“It would be concerning if I didn’t, San.”

The back and forth causes laughter to bubble from the small group. When they realize they only had half an hour left, they quickly finished what’s left of their meals and got their makeup retouched before rushing out. “Watch our stage! We’re performing soon!” Hongjoong asks the room as a staff member picks them up and ushers them back to the venue.

The second half of the recording goes smoothly, and with how the MC was describing the next everyone knew it would be ATEEZ next. True enough, it was them and they’re ushered backstage, everyone’s glued to the monitor now.

You weren’t able to see the dry run of this stage, too busy dealing with other brand deals and work that comes with being a manager. This means that this performance is going to be your first time watching it. The nerves were setting in now as your bottom lip is caught in between your teeth in thought.

The stage starts and you have to commend Jongho and San for the haunting beginning that sets the tone for the entire performance. You weren’t sure as to why you were so nervous and worried for this stage when they managed to do everything they wanted for the stage and more. Even you felt out of breath by the end of the stage, but nonetheless you feel nothing but pride and relief for a smooth performance. Somehow even you keep note of the praises they receive for the stages, knowing that somewhere down the line they’d need this for future performances. They win the favor of the audience and for the rest of the show, they stay backstage. Without the cameras on them, you can only wonder what they’re up to.

“You think they’re catching some sleep?” Yoon jokes to you as he keeps his eyes fixed on the screen. His words make you snort.

“Pretty sure they won’t be able to catch some shut eye at this rate, they won against the previous artist, that’s enough adrenaline to keep them up until they get brought back to where everyone else is.” You speak a little too soon. The boys win once more and there’s only one last artist left to perform and everyone in the dressing room is stunned by the progression. The stylists knew that ATEEZ had a charm but none of them expected their charm to be this strong.

The last artist performs and everyone’s at the edge of their seat for the final round wondering if the boys would make it. The lights flash back and forth and once it stays on ATEEZ, the entire room erupts in glee. You lose feeling in your legs at the results, too stunned to say anything. The boys on screen are in disarray with their emotions: Seonghwa and Yunho are breaking into tears, Mingi and Jongho practically jump off camera, Hongjoong, Yeosang and Wooyoung are too stunned to move, even San had to crouch down from the mere shock and happiness of everything. The rest of the recording goes by quickly and the boys are finally back in the room, a mix of hyper energy and quiet content. You and Yoon quickly take videos of their thoughts about winning for their log videos: you with the older four, him with the younger four. The quicker everyone finishes the needed work, the quicker everyone can go home.

Once San has changed out of his stage clothes, he makes his way towards you even if Seonghwa drapes himself over you just for the sake of some shut eye. At least your bag’s a lot lighter now, otherwise you’d have to deal with a grown man draping himself over you like a dozing cat and albums. “Manager-nim! What do you think of our stage?” San asks, trying not to sulk at the fact your attention wasn’t completely on him.

“San! You did amazing out there. You kinda looked scary out there too.” You praise him, even while readjusting Seonghwa’s position on you; at least he wasn’t putting his entire weight on you.

San notices your attempt to carry the conversation even with his hyung being a baby. As expected, he tickles Seonghwa to get him off your back, literally. This results in a match of flailing hands from both boys. Maybe performing Black Cat was a perfect fit for these boys. You let them flail about for a few moments until everyone is accounted for. “Come on, time to head home for your cat naps.” You joke as you head to the car.

It was a good thing that you and Manager Yoon brought two cars for this schedule. For sure some of the boys would sleep by the time their back hits the backrest of the seat, while some would still be buzzing with energy. You end up with the boys that would knock out by the time they get in the car. San called dibs on the passenger’s seat, while the rest sat at the back without complain. The ride home is a quiet one, San trying his best to stay awake to keep you awake as well.

“San, it’s okay. Just get your sleep, I’ll wake all of you up when we get there.” You reassure him when his words start to slur and his head starts to bob to one side.

“But..” He fails to finish his words as a yawn slowly erupts from him. Yeosang, Mingi and Hongjoong were at the back, too tired to even talk, you can only assume that they’re slouched over on their seat, already asleep.

“San, it’s okay.” You repeat, as you drive carefully through a corner. “Sleep.” You say, almost as if it was an order. Moments pass with no response and you think he finally has fallen asleep. The rest of the drive is just your quiet breathing and the soft snores from who you can only assume is either Hongjoong or Mingi.

What you don’t know is that San’s still awake, only his eyes were closed the entire time. His thoughts running wild, usually you didn’t let them be overly affectionate with you during work hours, yet you willingly let Seonghwa be on your back even with the possibly prying eyes. He’s certain that you don’t return his feelings at this point. He was sure some of the members already know of his feelings, hell Seonghwa teased him about it a few days ago. Illogical questions pop into his head; if Seonghwa knew of his feelings, why would he be like such towards you? He didn’t want to think so poorly of his own hyung. It was a war in his head, two different sides making possible points that were easily debunked by the other side. If he doesn’t do something about this, it would just be a disaster. He needed to find a way about it.

In his tormented thoughts, he somehow managed to drift off into a state of in between conscious and unconscious up until he reached home. The three boys have gone up with the rest of the members, and it was only you and him left.

“W-where..” he mutters, pushing himself up his seat, looking around with sleep weighing his eyes down. Maybe sleeping in that position wasn’t a good idea. When he realizes where he is, the thoughts rush back to him.

Your voice was gentler this time, “We’re home, sleepyhead,” gently shaking his leg to wake him up a little bit more. I’m bringing you to your dorm first.” You don’t take his whines to change your mind. He’s more tired than you are, hell he didn’t even remove his makeup on the way home. It takes a few minutes for you to lock the car up and make sure everything’s in place, when you turn around you still see him lingering about, hands rubbing his eyes. “I thought you’d go ahead.” You note, as you walk with him to the elevator. You wait for the elevator to arrive while making sure he doesn’t topple over.

At least it’s Monday tomorrow. There’s no shows to rush to, no guestings either, it was just a day for them to recover after the hectic filming. You didn’t want to admit it but this routine is something you’ve come to love. As much as you love it though, you do worry for him especially now where he seems like he could just crumple over from the exhaustion.

This time though, you don’t let San carry your bag on the way up. He’s tired enough as it is. He was practically sleeping while standing up. “You didn’t have to wait for me, you know?” You murmur as you wait for the elevator to arrive.

“Wanted to.” he says under his breath. His eyes were heavy but the way he manages to still smile is a miracle. “... like being with you.” he continues softly. He rubs his eye with the palm of his hand, trying to push the sleepiness away. It can only help so much.

“San, we have so many other chances. It won’t be long either until they lower the levels for the social distancing and health measures.” You reason gently. Truth be told, you’re scared he’d collapse from exhaustion here. Though you were strong, you’re unsure of your capabilities to lift a grown man along with two bags. “Come on, the elevator’s here.” You make sure the doors don’t close in on the two of you this time, instead of him doing it for you.

You press his floor number first this time.

He hums again, or says something that fails to make sense to you. “What?” You ask as you wait for the elevator to move.

“I said, it’s hard to not like being with you.” He says, voice a little clearer now as he pushes himself up against the metal wall. “You’ve been doing your work to manage us and be a friend to us, even going beyond that. You’re really amazing.”

A part of you wonders if he drank without you knowing in the car ride home but you let him continue.

“Really jealous too. You’ve got your eye on someone no?” He asks, his smile carries something you never saw from him.

“What?” That wakes you up.

“Wish it was me instead, the one who has your heart y’kno?” He mumbles.

“Choi San, did you drink alcohol without me knowing on the way back here?” You ask, clearly alarmed by the words falling from his mouth. Adrenaline slowly waking you up as you start to scan him for anything weird.

He looks at you and you see exhaustion has colored his features. Even with that, you see that he’s not inebriated from any substance. “N’t call me that..” He mutters.

“But that’s your name.” You reach for his bottle, trying to see if he did drink without your permission. “San, I swear, if you drank without me knowing, I won’t tell the company _but_ you are in trouble to me.”

He pulls his bag away from your reach. As if that helps prove his innocence. “I’m serious.” He says, clearer this time. You wonder if the lift towards his floor was always this long, you look at him and he doesn't look as exhausted as he was earlier. He sees how you look at him with hesitance and disbelief so he takes the leap. “I really like you and I wish it was me instead that had your heart.”

You weren’t sure if the lightheaded feeling was from how high you were from the ground or from his confession. Just as you were about to say something, the doors open to his floor and you’re greeted by Yunho on the other side. The two of you face away from each other in a feeble attempt to sweep everything under the rug. “Yunho, I thought you would be asleep by now.” You say, genuinely surprised to see the tall man.

“Seonghwa Hyung got worried over San not being in the dorm yet so here I am.” He reaches out just before the doors close again. San steps out of the lift and waves at you, not wanting to look at you.

“Sleep well guys.” You bid them goodbye and somehow something inside you hopes that him not looking at you was because of the need to rest and not because of what had happened minutes before. The last thing you see before the doors close in between you is his back and his heavy shoulders.

Part 4

#my writings #san fluff #san angst #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez fanfiction #ateez angst #ateez writings #ateez series #san x reader #ateez x reader #uhhh idk what else to tag this as so yea #watch me play wild rift until i reach level 15 now JOKE

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johnkrrasinski · 4 years

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𝐄𝐱𝐢𝐥𝐞

Chapter 4: Leaving Out the Side Door

full masterlist // series masterlist // commission open // support my work

Pairings: Dark!Steve Rogers (in future chapters) x Reader

Word Count: 2,325

Summary: Steve Rogers; a Hollywood A-lister and your clandestine occasional hookup. Best friends since childhood, but people change and friendships fall out. Now you were merely strangers with benefits. What happens when one day you stopped being his doormat to be a better man’s queen? The selfish Steve Rogers would not like it. How far is he willing to go to get his favorite possession back?

Warnings: smut, non-con/dub-con, dark Steve (in later chapter), angst, Steve Rogers is an asshole in this one, no redeeming qualities. (MUST BE 18+)

A/N: this series is dedicated to the lovely @belovedcherry who commissioned this story and developed the concept. thank you for being a friend when i truly needed it. i’m really glad that you trusted me to write this story for you. with all my heart, i sincerely hope you like it. this series will be updated every day.

You were on your knees with your hands tied behind your back as he vigorously thrust into you. Your heartbeat pounded in your rib cage and you began to feel numb from the hours he had fucked you. Steve was relentless when he was chasing his own climax, greedily used you as a tool; giving zero fucks about your pleasure or your discomfort, to dump his load in.

Steve didn’t need to see your face or hear your consent. He could go on and on for hours and still not feel satisfied. One thing that you had learned from this being in this dead-end friends with benefits thing with Steve Rogers is that his stamina was relentless. And he wouldn’t think twice about getting what he needed whenever he needed it.

Steve impaled you as your face was squeezed into the pillow, you could hear the squelching noises from the ceaseless cycle of disposing his semen in you and then pushed it back in when he was ready for the next round. Your head began to feel dizzy and your visions turned hazy. You’d tell him to stop because you couldn’t take it anymore, but you knew you didn’t have any strength left in your body to do so.

So you ascended from your body and let him take the wheel; allowing him to go as fast as he wished. He kept hammering until he felt your cunt clenching around him and his cock pulsated, then the line blurred as the coil inside you burst, withering every nerve in your body.

“Ah, fuck.” He grunted. He stayed still inside you until he felt himself softening and then he retreated.

Steve unbound your wrists and he threw himself on the other side of the bed. You knew better than turning to his side and cuddle on his chest unwarranted. He always expected you to get up and get out of his house instantly because he either had another place to attend and didn’t want to see you still here when he comes home or he was ready for another hookup.

Every now and then, you’d let him use you to fulfil his needs and you’d volunteer in cleaning his apartment afterwards. Even after those countless nights where you weren’t the one who made a mess of his sheets.

Ever since that night in your dorm; the first time you were reborn into a blossomed woman and the first time Steve paved the way of traversing to the electric piquancy of venereal act for you, you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t stop letting him through your door or drive to his place at three in the morning just so he could let off some steam.

Every time you try to say no, he’d always pay you a visit unannounced. He’d paralyze you with his words and freeze you with his unchaste touches. “Shh, let me make you feel good, baby. You just gotta surrender yourself to me.”

You’d try to push him away but your brittle tenacity was unavailing. Fast forward to five years later, when you finally got your degree and life vagabondized to unexpected places, your sex life was still staying still in one spot.

You were recruited by National Institute of Mental Health as their project manager. You were possibly the youngest candidate to occupy this position but they were very impressed by your resume and your interview that they didn’t have any better choice than giving you the job.

You loved it, you excelled at what you do. Helping people and tending for their mental health was the aim of your life. You had a clear vision of how you were going to initiate a concept, plan a strategy and execute the plan. You respected your colleagues and vice versa. It was a suitable environment for you to work in and you enjoyed every minute of it.

Your best friend aka your former roommate, Natasha was your rock. You still talked to her everyday and she’d always text you in case she couldn’t call. You’d exchange stories about how your days went and she’d always send you pictures or videos of her adorable cat, Liho. It always carved a smile on your face.

The same goes for Wanda, although with her busy schedule of graduate school and supervised experience made things a little difficult for you to stay in touch, she still updated every nugatory detail of her life. You loved her and you missed her excruciatingly. You had driven to New Haven during some weekends to see her and spend time with her, but when the weekend was over, you had to return to New York because your job was waiting for you.

They were your two most endeared girls and you couldn’t wait for the day you finally introduce them to each other. Natasha and Wanda had said hi to each other a few times back when you were still living in the same dorm but, you really wanted to spend time with the two of them at the same time. They would totally click.

But if anyone asks you about your love life? Well, how could you explain something that was nonexistent?

Unless “friends” with benefit counts for something…

A bell on your apartment dinged and you reached for the door. A man in black with purple nuances uniform showed up with a package in his hands. “Miss Y/L/N?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Here’s your delivery. Sign here please.” He handed you a piece of paper to draw your signature on and you accepted it without question, knowing full well it was another extravagant gift from Steve. Yep, that Steve.

The Steve Rogers.

A Brooklyn-born movie star of various blockbuster films, a remarkable singer and the face of Calvin Klein’s campaign this year… and Gucci Guilty’s last year.

The notorious womanizer but it was all good because he was the man. When you had starred alongside Leonardo DiCaprio and posed next to Oprah, who would give a shit if you never stopped playing the field, right?

And because he was The Steve Rogers, he could’ve spent his money on any lavish item and he could’ve put his dick wherever he wanted it. That included you, being the object of his wealthiness and his manliness.

How many times had you tried to reason with him when he constrained you to come over after a drunken hookup with a twenty-something model to clean up the mess and take out the trash? Perhaps just a few numbers exceeding the number of times he’d play the most charming man in the world only to forget your existence until he wanted you again.

So your feet innately transported you to your car, wearing the brand-new crimson red, bodycon dress with deep V-neck that displayed your cleavage, spaghetti straps baring your arms and a backless design that made you shiver due to the crisp air and drove to a place you had grown so accustomed to.

And this was the God knows how many times you were corrupted on his bed again. You had been so busy with your upcoming project that NIMH was ready to announce but you just couldn’t find it in yourself to resist the urge to come over to his place.

You stood on your wobbly feet, cleaned yourself up and see yourself out. Wouldn’t want to keep another mistress waiting in line…

Three weeks have passed since you last slept with Steve Rogers. Whispers on the streets chirped that he had been occupied with shooting a new film, erotic thriller slash mystery genre. Seems appropriate.

You yourself had been snowed under your work. The fundraiser event that NIMH was holding had been wearing you down but it was all worth it when the show was on. Negotiating with sponsorships, seeking donations and managing ticket sales were not easy, and it was all part of your responsibility because you were the boss, but you aced it anyway.

You were also responsible to hire professional entertainers and well, knowing that you got some connections to a well-known actor, of course, he was the first name on your list. But due to schedule conflicts, he couldn’t make it. It wasn’t a problem though, you still had a long list of names; film stars, movie producers, musicians, directors, moguls, etc.

You stood in your black sequin dress at the corner of the venue, inhaling all the sedulity and gumption you had invested in this event for the past couple of months. A part of you was secretly hoping that Steve would be here to see it, but you quickly eliminated those thoughts away.

9th-grade summer break. Upon the verdant hills overlooking the tranquil lake below; the moon’s faint glow ricochets on the water.

“What do you wanna be when you grow up, y/n?” his head reclined on his the palms of his hand, arms sprawled out like a butterfly’s wings.

“I wanna… Help people. My mom is a nurse and my whole life I watched her taking care of people she’d never met and I wanna have her big heart. I wanna do something that saves people.” you beheld the twinkling stars in the crepuscular sky, privily prayed that every word would come true.

“You wanna be a nurse like her too?” His eyebrow raised.

“I don’t know… Maybe I’ll host a charity event or something and then I’ll use all the money for those who need it. It looks cool in the movies.”

“When I make it, I’ll come to your event and help raise the money too! People would be interested in giving money to celebrities, right?” the credence glinted in his eyes.

“But the money will not be for you, doofus.”

“Yeah, I know!” he chided. “I wouldn’t take a single cent even if I could. My mom taught me that if I were given the chance to put others first before me… I should and I will respect her legacy.”

You watched the host and your project leader, Tony Stark stood behind the acrylic podium and he greeted the crowd a good evening. He opened his speech, cajoling the guests with his words to share a little bit of their wealth as many as possible and closed it with a cordial adieu.

You made your way to one of the most respected guests; Benjamin Woods was sitting on the fifth table. Two times Oscar nominee and you were jittery to talk to him, but in this line of work, you were trained to be confident and act like one of the elites. So you weren’t going to freak out like an obsessive fan, you gotta keep it cool and classy. Plus, during the briefing, you were told to fraternize with as many of the guest as possible, persuade them to help us reach the goal.

You had your eyes set on the target until you bumped on a six-foot man, spilling the martini in his hand all over your dress. It caused a few heads turning but that was the last thing you cared about right now. “Shit!” you squawked.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry miss.” a British accent was hinted.

You grabbed a napkin from the nearest table to wipe away the stain but of course, it was futile. He offered a hand by saying “here, let me help.”

“No, no it’s fine, I’ll-” you looked up to see a handsome man with a pair of grey, slightly blue and green fused at the core. His dark brown hair matched the stubble covering his entire jaw and you were captivated by the work of art that was his face. Man, what a gorgeous creature. “…Manage.”

“I’m truly sorry, I must really stop reading through my emails while walking.”

“Don’t worry about it, sir. It happens.”

“Can I at least get you a drink? I’d feel really bad if I don’t do anything to compensate for my error.”

You averted your gaze from him to the person you really wanted to talk to but that could wait. You still got a few more hours to properly introduce yourself. “Yeah, why not?”

“Splendid.” You both walked toward the bar and sat on the stools. The next thing you knew, you had spent the last one hour talking and acquainting with this man. Apparently, he was the executive director of Filmmakers Without Borders where funding films and new media projects that aligned with themes of social justice, empowerment and cultural exchange was the prime focus of his job. He believed that if he could support ideas that would make the world a better place, he’d do it without a second thought.

He was also a big traveler. He loved seeing magical places in foreign countries, he was keen on exploring new cultures and learning new languages even if he could only recollect a few basic words. He claimed that he had traveled to nine countries in Asia and he planned to travel across Europe, his so-called home, once he had conquered the omnifarious continent.

And what enthralled your heart the most about him was that he was a proud father of two adorable dogs; a greyhound and a pomeranian and a benign Siberian cat. He spoke about them so fondly. He showed you pictures of them and he said that he’d love for you to meet them. Oh man, was that a subtle invitation to come over to his place soon in the future?

He was a real gentleman, courtesy and multifaceted were the proper words to describe this man, and you had only known him for one hour. Eventually, duty calls and you still had a role to play in this event, but before you could hop off the stool, he had asked you for your number and you gladly gave it to him. You had a feeling that this wasn’t farewell but rather, an incipience. The question is… What could it be of?

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cupofteaguk · 3 years

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content creator year in review

thanks to @jimlingss / @floralseokjin / @gukyi for tagging me <3 i actually didn’t do a LOT of fic writing this year because of my ~mental state~ but we can definitely work with what i got

first creation and most recent creation of 2020:

first creation was leap of faith and my most recent was christmas magic!

a creation you’re really proud of:

definitely my avatar the last airbender au !! it was an idea i had in my head for a few months so actually getting to sit down and write it was a lot of fun. it’s also the type of ‘drabble’ (6k drabble that is) that i would really love to make into a whole fleshed out 20k story. hopefully 2021 will give me the chance to do that! <3

a creation that took you forever:

battle of the brains probably because it ended up so much longer than i had planned for and i didn’t have the stamina to write such a big fic.

a creation from 2020 that received the most notes:

probably on the road (to you) because it was one of.... 4 big fics i posted this years ?? lol anyways.......

a creation you think deserved more notes:

maybe leap of faith? i enjoyed the research of Harry Potter magical creatures that went into it haha so i wish that more people had been able to engage with the fic :-)

a new fandom you joined and a creation you made for it:

writing wise, i didn’t join a new fandom! i do have a lot of writing for Seventeen but that’s all still personal + in my drive !!

a creation you made that breaks your heart:

not really breaks my heart but my percy jackson au was probably my only fic this year that centered around angst and grief so i had to write that fic with a different emotional lenses compared to my other stories.

a ‘simple’ creation that you really love:

my kiki delivery service au !!!! this fic really was one of my passion projects and something that i knew i needed to write after seeing the film for the first time !!! and i think that

a creation that was inspired by another one:

i’ve written fics this year inspired by avatar the last airbender, percy jackson and the olympians, and kiki’s delivery service (all linked above) so yeah :’D

a favorite creation created by someone else:

holy fuck ok time to roll out why i really made this post because i didn’t do a lot of writing but i did a fair amount of reading <3

if i told you by @gukyi | THIS FIC WAS JUST SO GOOD. EVERYTHING ABOUT IT!!!!!!!!! the characters!!!! the development!!!!! the plot!!!!! THE CLIMAX OF THIS STORY!!!!!!! i don’t even think i’ve ever screamed about this fic directly to Guyi but alas this is my third time expressing how much i’m a slut for this fic.

the art of war more by @kpopfanfictrash | i think Shanna changed the meaning of a college au when she wrote and posted this fic because it was truly one of the most well covered and most thorough fics i’ve read all year. i can’t even begin to imagine the amount of detail and thought that was put in constructing this story and how to write it in a way that doesn’t fEEL 40k. yeah Shanna’s really talented and that’s all i can say on that.

hulu & woohoo (from her netflix and chill series) by @1kook | can i just say that miss yami is so fucking talented and managed to create a whole series with two compelling characters in the midst of such a wonderfully constructed relationship that makes u want to die, cry, but be horny at the same time ?? just me ??? ok then!!

shield by @joonsgalore | this is such a well constructed fic that gives you sO MUCH YOU’LL WANT TO DIE IN A GOOD WAY !!! the development of the relationship between the characters is just chefs kiss A+ and i don’t want to spoil anything for anyone who hasn’t read this but the nsfw content?? let me just throw myself off a cliff because yes folks it’s that good.

some of your favorite content creators from the year:

along with the authors mentioned above, i’d also like to yell my love for @scriptaed / @underthejoon / @jungshookz / @readyplayerhobi / @kinktae / @angelguk / @ubemango / @taetaespeaches / @hansolmates / @gukslut / @jungkxook / @cafemiya (i’m sorry if i missed anyone that i follow.... i just quickly skimmed through my following list so i definitely could have overlooked a few people)

and for good measure, another couple more creations of yours that you love:

i really didn’t write a lot of fics this year tbh.... i think i have already mentioned most of my fics from the previous answers lol cries

TAGGING: everyone mentioned above :-) apologizes if you’ve done this already feel free to ignore it this!!!

#tagged #i hope all my mutuals + followers have a wonderful 2021 #because you all deserve happiness + all the wonderful things in life <3

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acourtofshadowsongs · 3 years

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A Court of Hushed Shadowsongs

Story Summary: A few weeks after the ending of A Court of Silver Flames, the Night Court's newest warriors find themselves amongst familiar friends as they continue training to excel in their Valkyrie skills. But as a dark future calls to threaten the new sense of safety that Gwyn has found with her new found sisters and friends, she finds herself fighting even harder to become the person that will be able to save her friends- and herself.

Warnings: May have mental health triggers, especially towards self loathing and worthlessness.

Word Count: 1330

Part 1

Gwyn glared at Nesta, the gleam of sweat dripping down her face shining as brightly as her eyes as the girls sat down on the steps. “Remind me why I decided to join you in doing this?” Gwyn asked her as Nesta grabbed at one of the two glasses of water that had appeared their courtesy of her friendship with the House of Wind.

Gwyn had decided a few days ago that she was going to challenge herself in attempting the 10,000 from the House of Wind to Velaris. While she had wanted to get out of the Library for more than just training for a long time now, she still wasn’t ready to face the city yet. Giving herself the opportunity to join Nesta on the stairs would get her acclimated to seeing and hearing the city and decide when, if ever, she would be ready to see others once again. When she had asked Nesta to accompany her after working in the library today, Nesta had seemed shocked and delighted to join Gwyn on her endeavor- even if it meant telling her mate that he would be eating dinner alone that night (and based on how flushed Nesta seemed when she returned to meet Gwyn at the top of the steps, Gwyn figured that there was a promise made about what would be happening later because of it).

Handing her one of the glasses of water, Nesta let out a rasp of a laugh between her breaths, slightly quieter than Gwyn’s own as she had been doing this escapade a lot longer. “To be fair, you’re the one that asked to join- I just gladly accepted the company.” Gwyn gulped down the glass of water, setting it back down on the step as she watched it disappear within the next few seconds. Glancing over at Nesta as she leaned back on the steps she asked, “so you’re telling me we just walked down five hundred steps only to walk back up five hundred steps? Isn’t going up harder?!” Nesta smiled as she set down her own glass and watched it disappear.

“Yes, but to be fair when I started this, feeling the pain of the burn in my legs and lungs was easier than dealing with the pain up here.” Nesta tapped her temple, signifying a feeling that Gwyn knew all too well. Gwyn glanced away to avoid Nesta’s eyes as her own filled with a grief that few understood, looking now to the still far away rooftops of the city of Velaris, gleaming brightly under the moonlight and stars. A steady silence filled with only their labored breathing settled around the two sisters, thought not uncomfortable.

“You’ll get there you know.” Nesta comments quietly after enough time had past for them to catch their breaths. Gwyn swallowed, stifling the nervousness of even broaching the topic of being somewhere that people could see her- judge her- for what she has done, for who she is, for what happened. Sure, everyone said that the City of Starlight was a home for those who had experienced the hard things as she had, but there was something about being under scrutiny of people other than those who knew her that had her standing up and deciding not to answer Nesta, but instead slowly start the climb back up the five hundred steps. After about ten steps, she realized Nesta was still sitting down, looking over Velaris-her home.

“You coming?” Gwyn asked softly, pausing long enough to hear Nesta sigh and respond

“I’m actually going to keep going. It’s been a while since I’ve been out here, I figure I should try to catch up with my old pace.” Gwyn nodded, wishing Nesta a good night as she started the ascent back up to the training ring at the top of the House of Wind.

Five hundred steps later, Gwyn decided that maybe joining Nesta on the steps hadn’t been her greatest idea in the world. Sure, training had become second nature (though her body at times still protested the movements and weapon wielding), but the stamina that she needed to get through the stairs was something that Gwyn wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to have. For cauldron’s sake, she had to be carried like a sack up Ramiel, and didn’t even earn the ability to say that she worked for her new found rank of warrior.

Collapsing at the top of the steps and breathing heavily, Gwyn flipped onto her back as her eyes focused on the specks of starlight above her, faded from the faelight coming off of the house of wind. She took a deep breath in through her nose. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. And released it through her mouth. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. Again, a second time. Then a third time, her wandering mind and sporadic heart rate slowing with each Mind Stilling breath that was taken.

Closing her eyes, Gwyn kept breathing. Thoughts within her head quieted as her pointed ears sharpened their hearing to her surroundings instead of the pain of the past experiences and the pain within her legs. A soft wind swirled through the training ring, rattling a few of the posts on the outside of it just enough for the whisper to catch Gwyn’s attention. A spark or two every couple of second from the faelight that was burning above the entrance to the house sounded through the whisper of the wind, a pulsing melody that seemed to beckon Gwyn closer to the beat of the House that Nesta had once tried to explain to her.

Gwyn focused on that music and pulled herself back into her own mind, beginning to assess her pain and her thoughts, acknowledge them, and then imagined herself pulling each twinge of pain, each thought of being lesser than, each moment of not being enough… she imagined herself pulling each of those strands out of herself and out onto the melodic strings of the world that surrounded her. And as she imagined that, she took another breath and allowed her mind to focus itself on whatever it needed to drift to tonight.

Seconds, minutes, maybe even hours had passed before Gwyn’s mind focused on a new sound that had appeared as suddenly as silence that followed the end of a symphony. Deciding to pull herself back in before something disrupted her mind stilling, Gwyn folded her fingers into her hands and then released, grasping the ground underneath her as she marked herself back down into her thoughts and herself. Taking one final breath, Gwyn opened her eyes and found herself staring at darkness. Startled, she tried to figure out if she had fallen asleep while Mind Stilling (as had happened many times before) and if the faelight sparking she had heard earlier had been the light going out. But as she reached out in front of her and the darkness scattered away to show the still shining starlight, she realized as she sat up that shadows had gathered around her.

Gwyn giggled through a gentle breath, scooting up into a kneeling position as the shadows scurried a bit further away and swirled as if watching her. Smiling softly, she gave a slight wave at the shadows before they darted up into the sky, leaving only one small shadow behind as if it were waiting for something.

No, not waiting for something, waiting for someone, Gwyn realized as the sound of wings filled the air around her shortly after the shadows had disappeared. The last remaining shadow moved towards her, curling around one of the lose strands of coppery hair that had fallen out of the braid she had worn to descend the steps in. Gwyn looked down at the shadow before then looking up, just in time to see an Illyrian warrior with blue siphons attached at the backs of his hands land in the training ring across the opening from her.

Part 2 coming soon!

A/N: Hey guys! My name is Jen, and I'm a college student who's a little bit obsessed with Gwyn and Azriel as a pairing right now. I (as a fellow ginger) loved Gwyn's character and her story, and have loved Az since I read ACOMAF in 2016. Honestly, I don't know about you guys, but I just can't sit still waiting for SJM to write another book and release it three years from now without hearing about Gywnriel, so please enjoy my attempt at continuing their story past ACOSF. Of course, I can't just throw Elain outta the plot so she'll be in here too, which means a fair dose of angst amongst our favs. I don't know how long this is going to get- but I hope you'll be here with me to see it through and hold me accountable to the story. Hope you all enjoy!

#acosf #azrielxgywn #gywnriel #acosf spoilers #azriel #gwyn #gwyn berdara #nesta #acourtofsilverflames #acotarfic #acosf fanfiction

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yandere-sins · 5 years

Text

(It’s a request from a different blog of mine, but since I created this one for yandere specifically, I decided to write it for this one instead! I redirected though, just fyi)

Thank you for requesting! Hope you were expecting some naughty, cause it’s what I read in between the lines, tehe ;P

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««

In the heat of the moment, it was hard to decide what was more disgusting. The sound of his pants above you, the way he complimented you when you unwillingly arched your back, pressing your ass into his hips, and how he kept on telling you how ‘good’ this was going to be. Or maybe the treacherous knot in your stomach, letting you know that you were ready to cum as he kept pumping mercilessly into you.

“Oh, god, [Name]. Yes, right there,” he praised you, your pussy clenching even tighter around him with every second that passed. “I knew you wanted this too, you’re so eager for my seed now, aren’t you?”

Even with the tug on your hair, you only turned your head towards the mattress, burying it in the fabric as deep as you could. Maybe if you were lucky, it would suffocate you before that psycho got to the end of his obsession. Neither you nor he were concerned about the tears streaming down your eyes. He because he believed firmly that you were on board with his plan, you because you knew it was pointless. If Mirio got something into his head, he would not stray from it.

And you cursed whoever put the idea of a child into his mind.

In a last, futile try, you pressed your palm against his abdomen, hoping it would make him stop. He slowed down in confusion for a moment, before gripping your wrist tightly, laughing as he held on to you while continuing to hammer into you. “My, you’ve never been so eager before, Baby,” he misinterpreted your action, reaching for your other hand too and pulling you upwards.

Immediately, you were filled with regret, having only urged him on, and now you didn’t even have the chance to hide the moans and gasps from him anymore. How long had you two been doing it? How many orgasms had it been? Where did he take his stamina from?

You could feel one hand wrap around both your wrists easily, while the other one crept up to your breasts, fondling them and stimulating your nipples. You weren’t sure if it was pleasure or pain you felt as he roughed you up, every sensitive part already burning from his calloused touches. “Man, I look forward to drinking your milk, [Name]. I bet it’s delicious,” he revealed and you felt like getting a crying fit all over again.

As if it was a merciful whim, he let you down again from hovering in the air, your face immediately sinking into the sheet, hands gripping it so tightly it felt like your bones were going to crack. For a hesitant second, you felt him pull up, his legs coming even closer beneath you, conveniently keeping your hips up with his thighs. He was so close that his cock sat uncomfortably between your folds, ready to bury itself deep inside again at any minute now.

For you, there was no reason to resist anymore. If he really wanted you to get pregnant, and you were able to conceive a child - so much was sure, you’d have already been. Mirio had cum at least three times inside of you by now, trying out every position possible - with this being one of the more comfortable ones - stirring up your juices real good by continuing to fuck through your both orgasms. You couldn’t and you wouldn’t be able to stop him if he did it again now.

“We’ll be an amazing family. You are the mom, I am the dad, and our child will be the happiest one there is.”

With his hips flush against yours, your pussy let him in more than welcomly again, a satisfy moan echoing in the room from him. “I can’t wait for it, I wish it was here already!”

His fingers dug deeply into your hips while his cock went in and out of your cunt just as smoothly as he could pass through the walls of buildings. You were at least glad it wasn’t just your juices dripping down your legs, so not all of it was your fault. Not all of it was a sign of your failure, even if your mind was screaming that it was. You should have pushed him away, struggled more, not let him into your room while your parents were out! He wasn’t even your boyfriend!

“Oh, [Name]!” he cried out, ready to explode his fourth load into you. You felt his hammering length twitch and press wherever it could. Mirio leaned forward pressing his chest to your back, trailing kisses down your shoulder. “You don’t have to- to worry about a thing! I - ah! - I’ll take care of you and the baby, we’ll be such a happy family! It will be perfect!”

You refused to give a commentary to his words, clutching the sheets even harder as you felt your pussy throb, a muffled scream of ecstasy rolling down your lips. Mirio gasped at your tightness, the splurting feeling of something wet rushing into you. Loud groans followed, callings of your names as he struggled to press further and further inside. It felt like his grip on you was crushing you while the feeling of him cumming inside of you was as sickening as it was satisfying to your primal instincts.

When the tension ceased, he practically sacked down on you, burying your form under his body, panting heavily. “It’ll be perfect...” he mumbled, and in your half-lucid state, you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or to himself. “You’ll see.”

Even though a hint of fear that this might continue stayed, your body too relaxed, exhaustion washing over you from the struggle and mental toll. You could feel Mirio slip out of you, and with him, even more juices leaving a stain on the sheets. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” he whispered, and with a gasp you felt him push his fingers back in, trying to keep all of his semen inside.

“You’ll be an amazing mommy.”

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stars-in-my-damn-eyes · 4 years

Note

For the Witcher!Jaskier prompt thingy: How about Jaskier giving up his Bard persona/ glamour/ what-have-you in order to save a witcher that he heard took a contract and never returned for payment, only to find out the missing witcher was Geralt ? (forgive me, i do love this trope)

YES YES YES PERFECT

Post episode 6 because yes :)

Featuring Griffin!Jaskier because I'm obsessed with Griffin!Jaskier. One day I'll write him from a different school, but that day is not today

***

There was nothing inherently special about the town, of course there wasn't - one backwater village was indistinguishable from another, as a general rule. The only thing that might have been of note, insofar as the plentiful little shitholes that littered the continent went, was that Jaskier was not allowed to return to some of them.

It had been difficult enough, come to think of it, to keep track of which unwelcoming cesspit he was allowed to enter when he'd only had one list of them, and now, he had two - one for Jaskier the Bard, and one for Julian the Decidedly Not a Bard, but in Fact Most Certainly a Witcher.

This specific town, Jaskier was sure, figured on one of his lists, and he was also sure that it was the Julian one. While he'd never been as far north as Poviss as a bard, excluding that one occasion with the utter cock-up of a dragon hunt and also this current moment - mainly because he hadn't actually left afterwards - he had, in fact, frequented the area when he was younger and particularly more... stabby.

Alright, sue him, he was avoiding his problems like there was no tomorrow. Geralt, Jaskier knew, mainly frequented Kaedwen, Temeria, Aedirn, and perhaps occasionally Redania. Consequently, Jaskier had stuck mainly to Kovir and Poviss since the hunt.

As a witcher, however, it was a vastly different story. Jaskier had trained in Kovir, and, suffice to say, he hadn't been as fond of travelling in his youth as he was now. It made things infinitely easier to keep track of, anyways - if it was in Kovir or Poviss, perhaps Kaedwen or northern Redania, he was banned as a witcher. Further south, he was banned as a bard, and in one little hovel by the banks of the Gwenllech, he was banned as both.

The point was, he was fairly certain he wouldn't be thrown out on his arse if he walked into this town as he was.

And wasn't that all the incentive that he needed?

Jaskier, with his glamour firmly in place - ring jammed nigh-immovably on his finger, as always - and his lute on his back, ambled into the town with a casual air.

At first, there had been nothing of significance, nothing particularly stand-out about... Well, anything, really. He went to the tavern, played for coin, had a drink or two, and, come the afternoon - a bit earlier than he would ususually turn in, but he figured he deserved a break - he started off towards the inn to book a room for the night.

The tavern was, in a most inconvenient manner, a fair few streets from the inn, and so Jaskier found himself weaving through the town anyways - he was definitely banned here as Julian, though he had absolutely no idea why - trying to locate the desired building.

That, then, was when he heard it, a muted discussion between two passing residents that the absent-minded bard wouldn't even have been aware of, had it not been for the benefit of his excellent hearing.

The conversation, Jaskier would have liked to say, was one that piqued his interest, but it was a little known fact that Jaskier was an avid eavesdropper who never tuned anything out - his interest was very easily piqued. As such, the decleration remained rather ineffectual, but that didn't really change anything, here.

"...never returned from that contract, did he? Thank the gods we never paid him upfront, eh?"

"Shove it, mate. Maybe you get to keep your coin, yeah, but that fucking creature's still out there, innit? They're gonna be asking for triple when they hear there's already been a witcher who ain't managed to kill it, mark my words."

At this, Jaskier would admit that a chill ran down his spine. This was Poviss, and so the nearest school was - or rather, had been, Jaskier mentally correcting himself with a note of bitterness welling in his heart - the School of the Griffin. Jaskier's school.

It stood to reason that the missing witcher was one of Jaskier's brothers, and gods damn it, even if he hadn't been around for the attack on Kaer Seren, traipsing around after Geralt as he was, he would be damned if he turned a blind eye to this witcher's suffering, especially given that Griffins - which this witcher quite possibly was - had become quite the rare breed, recently.

So, he did the only logical, rational thing he could think of.

Unarmed save for the dagger he kept in his boot, lute strapped to his back, and acutely aware that if anyone were to recognise him as Julian of Kerack...as himself, really he would immediately be shooed from the village and quite possibly also chased by a mob for his troubles - all of these unfavourable circumstances forgotten, he chased after the two men, still discussing the witcher.

"Excuse me," Jaskier called pleasantly, jogging up to the men, projecting his very best I'm a very non-threatening but curious bard, hello air. "I couldn't help but notice that you were talking about a witcher, a contract?"

One of the men, a balding, middle-aged individual, spat on the ground. "What's it to you, bard?"

"Just.. idle curiosity, I suppose," Jaskier shrugged. "I was wondering if you could point me in the direction he went?"

The balding man scowled, but his companion - a man who had the most magnificent bear that Jaskier had ever seen, was forthcoming with an answer. "He went into the woods down that very road. Been gone almost a day now, I think."

"Many thanks, gentlemen."

With an exaggerated bow, Jaskier immediately turned tail and left.

He fell easily into a run, not breaking into a sweat even as he left the town and started speeding through the undergrowth of a forest.

Evidently, his refusal to waste coin on a horse had in fact saved his stamina.

He picked up on a familiar scent soon enough, though he couldn't place it - he'd never been good with smells, it was something of a major failing of his, really - but it definitely smelled like witcher.

So he followed it.

He dodged stray branches and tangled shrubs with an almost unconcious ease, speed only increasing when the coppery tang of blood on his nose, and fuck, that was strong, that was a lot of blood - the fight had either gone overwhelmingly well or unthinkably terribly for the mystery witcher, and, judging by the constant buzzing of the medallion hidden in the sole of his boot, it wasn't looking too good - and Jaskier made it to the clearing where the smell originated from in record time.

The first thing he realised was that the reason that the scent of blood was so strong was because both the witcher and the fucking forktail he was fighting were bleeding most admirably, though neither were quite dead yet.

The second thing Jaskier realised - and it probably should have been the first, in actuality - was that the witcher was not, in fact, a Griffin.

No, it was, because of bloody course it bloody was, Geralt of fucking Rivia.

The third thing he noticed was that Geralt was losing.

Badly.

It had been a battle of endurance, it seemed, and Jaskier could see thag Geralt was on the verge of passing out.

Fuck. For all the man had hurt him, Jaskier had absolutely no wish to see him dead. Quite the opposite, actually - he would risk his own life to see him safe.

So, slamming his lute case down on the forest floor and leaping into the clearing with all the strength the posessed, that was exactly what he did.

Perhaps his method was a bit... callous, but he needed to arm himself and get Geralt out of the forktail's path, and this was the fastest way he knew how to do that.

He slipped under Geralt's guard, grabbed his arm, and twisted his silver sword neatly from his grip, delivering a ferocious kick to the man that sent him flying across the clearing, far, far away from the forktail's reach.

It was maybe not the best way to minimise injury, delivering a forceful blow to the stomach of an already wounded man, but it was efficient, and besides Geralt was a witcher. He'd be fine. Probably.

Rounding on the forktail with Geralt's unfamiliar sword, he didn't stop to deliberate. He fell back into the familiarity of the fight with an almost disturbing ease, and leapt at the forktail, already slashing.

He caught the creature across the neck, slicing a gash far too shallow for his liking, and ducked under the creature's belly, tearing another wound in its flesh, before slipping behind it and striking at its tail with all his strength, aiming to sever it.

Geralt's blade cut deep into the forktail's muscle, not quite a clean amputation, but Jaskier struck a second blow that rent it from the creature's body with clean efficiency.

The creature gave a roar of agony, and Jaskier took the opportunity to leap on its back and drive the sword straight through the forktail's throat.

It thrashed a few times before falling, and Jaskier pulled the blade neatly from the forktail's throat, rolling out of harms way as they both dropped to the ground.

"Well," Jaskier said, surprisingly not breathless. "That went well."

Geralt. He still had to tend to Geralt's wounds from the forktail, given that he'd spent the gods only knew how long wearing it down for him, which Jaskier was thankful for. He probably would have lost rather terribly, come to think of it, had the forktail not already been in such poor shape, wings torn, bleeding from multiple wounds.

He turned to focus on where Geralt lay - where Jaskier had kicked him to - and found yellow eyes surveying him intently.

Well, shit.

"I can explain," he grinned, trying not to seem too visibly nervous as he spied Roach, at the edge of the clearing, and made his way over to her to nab some of Geralt's supplies.

"Since when?"

The growling voice was tinged with an undertone of pain. Jaskier winced.

"Since when, what? You'll have to be a tad bit more specific, I'm afraid," Jaskier said, instead, making his way over to the White Wolf. "Here, where are you hurt?"

"Everywhere," Geralt grunted. "Since when can you-" a pause, a pained pause- "can you take on a forktail?"

Jaskier shrugged, focusing on removing Geralt's armour to tend to his wounds. "Since some point between when I was born and now, I suppose."

"That's not an answer."

"Oh, so now you're entitled to know all of my personal information? After how we parted?"

Geralt gave a grunt that might have been a whine, if Jaskier felt like reading a bit too much into it.

The bard scoffed, old hurt welling up in his chest. A crawling discomfort made its way across his skin, and he shivered. "And there it is, your famous monosyllabism. If you want anything from me, you're going to have to use your big boy words. Can you do that Geralt, or is it beyond you?"

"You... kicked me. Across a clearing. Stole my sword. Beat a forktail."

"Yes, well." Jaskier's deft hands had removed Geralt's armour by that point, and he could see the many, slowly-healing gashes that littered the man's torso. Death by a thousand cuts, indeed. "You softened it up a lot, first. I'm not exactly in the whole... Well. The whole monster-fighting business."

"Jaskier."

"Don't you Jaskier me," the bard groused, uncorking a potion bottle. "You owe me an apology, you know. Several apologies. And then, I might consider telling you all of my deep dark secrets. I'm not in the business of baring my soul to people who I... Oh, how did you so eloquently put it? Whenever you find yourself in a pile of shit, it's always me, shovelling it."

If Geralt winced, it was definitely because of Jaskier's treating of his cuts. It wouldn't do for him to go and fool himseld into believing that the man had finally grown a heart, after all. Nothing good ever came from that kind of assumption.

The crawling feeling intensified.

"I... I was wrong," Geralt ground out. "It's not you shoveling shit. The djinn and Ciri... were my decisions. You were just there."

"And do you mean that, or are you just trying to butter me up so that I'll satisfy your curiosity?"

"Jaskier. I'm sorry. You saved my life."

"I did," Jaskier mused. "And now I'm going to stick my finger into your open wound, painfully, because you're a massive dick."

Geralt didn't manage to hide his flinch, but Jaskier could see that he was steeling himself for Jaskier to actually go through with it.

"I'm kidding, Geralt. I don't take pleasure in hurting you. Much."

"Hmm."

"I'm going to give you stitches now."

"Jaskier. I really am sorry."

Raising an eyebrow, the bard decided to put the man out of his misery. "I know. You don't say things lightly, I'm just fucking with you. Fuck."

The needle pierced through Geralt's skin swiftly, in a practiced movement - they type of movement that came from years and years of repetition.

"Ciri."

"Ciri?" Jaskier queried, not looking up. "Your child surprise? What about her?"

"She's. In the inn."

"Ah. Well, you should let me stitch you up, then, and you can get back to her. I'll be out of your hair shortly."

"I want you to meet her."

"Really?" Jaskier rocked back on his heels as he pulled on the thread of the stitch - an unwise movement, but the bard didn't fuck anything up.

No, he was just screwing with Geralt, a little bit.

"Please."

"Ah, so you do know what manners are. Of course I'll meet with her, how could I refuse an audience with the Lion Cub of Cintra?"

Finishing the last of the stitches and moving onto the next particularly deep wound, Jaskier met Geralt's eyes and grinned.

"I'll only stitch the more life-threatening ones, now, don't worry. The rest, we can deal with back at the inn."

"We?"

Jaskier raised an eyebrow. "Yes, we. You can't just inquire after my dark and sordid past and not expect me to stary clinging to you like a barnacle again, now, Geralt. Who knows? If you're nice enough to me, I'll even tell you."

Geralt's mouth twitched - just the barest hints of a smile. "Your singing is beautiful, and your eyes are divine."

Jaskier fluttered his lashes. "Why, thank you, Geralt, but they're not exactly- oh, fuck."

The white-haired witcher tried to sit up, on hearing the note of panic in Jaskier's voice, but the bard laid a hand on his shoulder.

"What is it?"

He followed Jaskier's eyes, his gaze landing in Jaskier's ring - Jaskier's ring, which was sporting a large, gaping crack.

So that was what the crawling feeling was.

"A glamour."

"Yes," Jaskier said, flatly. "One that seemingly has given up the ghost... Or is about to, and any rate.

"You're wearing a glamour?"

"Yes, Geralt, keep up," Jaskier said, tone light. "Completely unrelated, I am unfortunately unable to return to town with you, so I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to close your eyes while I finish your stitches, and-"

"What are you?"

Jaskier exhaled. "I'm sure you'll find out in a minute or so. I don't exactly carry a spare."

"Jaskier-"

Geralt's tone was soft, but Jaskier waved his concerns away. "Oh, don't worry, it's nothing you'd have to kill me over."

The bard focused on stitching Geralt's wounds as the glamour began to flinch, and, as the ring finally dulled, dissipated completely.

The change wasn't significant, by any stretch of the word - Jaskier was still Jaskier, the same face, the same body - but old scars began to resurface, patterned across the bard's skin, and the eyes that met Geralt's when he looked up were no longer blue, but slit-pupilled and yellow.

"Witcher," Geralt breathed. "You're a witcher. And... You have been. All this time."

Jaskier huffed. "I'm honestly surprised that wasn't your first guess."

"What school?"

"Oh, come now, I have to keep some secrets fpr myself," Jaskier grinned, flashing fangs he'd honestly forgotten he had.

"Griffin."

"Oh, for the love of- how? How did you guess that?"

Geralt shrugged. "You act like a Griffin."

"I act like a-" Jaskier mouthed. "You brute! Take that back!"

The White Wolf smiled at him - actually smiled at him, after twenty damn years, and it was all to be a little shit - and patted his arm awkwardly. "Don't fret, Jaskier. I understand why you'd want to keep it a secret. It would be embarrassing for the Griffin School to admit that they produced someone as incompetent as you."

Outraged, Jaskier gasped in betrayal. "Well, I'm sure I won't be helping you next time you're in mortal danger, Geralt! I broke my glamour for your sake! Quite by accident, I'll admit, but still!"

Geralt - gods damn him - smirked.

"In all seriousness, Geralt," Jaskier groaned. "Do you know how many towns in Poviss have banned Julian of Metinna from entering?"

"Is it most of them?"

"It's most of them. I was - ah, I was rather stabby in my youth."

Geralt shrugged. "The people who could recognise you are all dead by now."

"Hah! You'd think," Jaskier grinned. "Our schoop was in operation for far longer than yours, you know. I'm not actually that much older than I claimed. I just took off the six years I spent actually working as a witcher."

"You gave up after six years?"

"I had other callings!"

"No, I'm just surprised you lasted that long in the first place."

"Oh, fuck off- Next time, I am leaving you to die, Geralt of Rivia!"

"You wouldn't. Julian."

"Shut up. Just- get your Child Surprise and let's go to a country I'm actually welcome in. I don't need to stay in Poviss now that I'm not avoiding you any- fuck."

"Is that why you're here, Jaskier?"

Geralt of Rivia's grin was shit-eating as he no doubt resolved to tease Jaskier about that for the next decade or so, and Jaskier couldn't help but think, as he finished Geralt's last stitch with hands that had become so unfamiliar to him over the last two decades, that being able to stay by the man's side again was absolutely worth it.

#do forktails live in poviss? they do now bc i said so #will i ever stop referencing all the world i've seen before me passing by? that's also a no #ezzie writes #witcher!jaskier #witcher jaskier #the witcher #the witcher fic #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #also kind of an apology fic #this is. Kind of bad. Sorry

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #411

“everybody’s got loaded stories, and i know for a fact everybody sees a bullseye on my back”

Have you ever been to jail? No. Opinion on snow? I absolutely love it! Not big on the slush it leaves behind, though. It gets ugly. What are you best at drawing? Meerkats. Are you scared of going over bridges? Nah. If you had endless energy and stamina, how would you spend your days? Plenty of exercise, lots of exploration with my camera, doing chores much more regularly... stuff like that. What mental or physical space do you go when you want to recharge or relax? I go to my room and watch YouTube. Did you have/use a comfort object as a child (do you continue to have one)? I actually don't remember. Now as an adult, if I go somewhere, my purse is actually like my comfort item in that I like to sit and sort of hug it to feel more secure. When was the last time you said something you regret? What did you say? I'm unsure. What do you tend to get carried away with? New hobbies/interests. It will be like all I care about for a long while, ha ha. Do you believe we have souls; do you believe in a life after death? Yes to both. Do you still talk to the person you last made out with? No. Have you ever seen your best friend cry? Ugh, yes, and it's the absolute worst. What kind of vitamins did you take as a kid? We had those Flintstones ones for a while, but for most of my childhood, we had gummy vitamins. Have you ever gone to court? Well, yes, but not for like your ordinary court hearing. While hospitalized on one occasion, a lawyer visited to speak to the patients informing us that we could argue against our discharge dates if we believed we were going to be committed for too long, which I thought I was, so I signed up to bring my case in front of a judge. So yeah, I've been to court, but not for ordinary reasons. Are you friends with your neighbors? "Friends," no. The people to our left like just moved out, and I don't even know if we've ever been outside at the same time as the family on our right. Favorite color? I like baby pink. How long has it been since you’ve seen The Lion King? I saw the CGI remake when it came out, if that counts? I don't know about the original. When did you last hold hands with someone? Sometime when I was at my sister's house, my niece grabbed my hand to drag me somewhere, ha ha. Have you ever had a crush on your sibling's friend? No. Have you ever gone to a beach? Multiple times. How good is your eyesight? It is very, VERY bad. I need new glasses severely. What’s the best wedding you’ve been to? My former dance teacher's. Have you ever had a negative encounter with the police? What happened? No. What’s your favourite thing to cook/bake? Do you eat it often? I don't do either. How do you flush the toilet in public? I generally use my elbow. I don't like standing on one leg, so I don't really use my foot like I'd prefer. Favorite horror movie? Silent Hill is dearest to me overall just because of what it is, but as a horror film, I think the original Blair Witch Project is best. Do you have your wisdom teeth? X-rays have only ever shown two are present, but I have enough space for those. What would you name your pet snake if you had one? It would depend on their appearance. The snake I have currently is named Venus because her coloration is similar to the planet. Do you like peanuts? Only when covered in chocolate. Where do you typically shop for bras and underwear? Do you tend to keep it simple, or have a variety of different items? Have you ever gotten a professional bra fitting? I don't get new undergarments (or clothes in general) frequently, but historically, my bras are bought online and underwear just from Wal-Mart. I don't really get the second question? I mean I don't have a style when it comes to those types of clothes, if that's what you mean. I've never had an actual bra-fitting, but I absolutely need to but keep putting it off. It seems like NO bra fits me properly all-around, and it's ridiculously annoying. What (if any) types of xrays/scans/other diagnostic tests have you had done? Was anything found? Idk man, a lot. I've had xrays on my wrist (found a fracture), teeth, legs... maybe more? I've also had an ultrasound on my liver for reasons I don't recall. I either had an MRI or CT scan (I can't remember which) when I got a concussion, and uhhhh... I can't think of anything else. Were you breast or bottle fed as a child? If you plan to have children, which do you think you’ll choose? Do you think one is really better than the other? I was nursed, and if I hypothetically had children, I'd definitely try to do the same. It was so incredible to me that I've never forgotten this: when I was at the hospital while my sister had her first baby, there was a chart on the wall of how many more nutrients were in breast milk versus formula milk, and the list was GARGANTUAN. Like, unbelievable. Now, do I think it's BETTER? That's a complicated question for which, in short, my answer is no. More nutritious, well, given what I just said, obviously. But breastfeeding just doesn't work for all mothers for a plethora of reasons, like the time demand, they can be self-conscious, it's painful... and all those things are okay. A mother should do what works best for her. Neither one is "wrong" or makes someone less of a mother because they feed their child less traditionally. Do you find that you have become more selective in terms of friendships as you’ve gotten older? Did the friendships you thought would last over time end up that way? Absolutely. There are just some kinds of people I absolutely do not tolerate anymore. And no, not most. We just drifted apart with time, or given most of my closest friendships are/were online, they just fell off the face of the earth. What are you doing right now? This and re-watching John Wolfe play Bloodborne. Bloodborne is such a comfort series to me... somehow, ha ha. Yet another game I've never played but desperately want to. Where are you? In my bedroom, as always. When you get yelled at, do you yell back or let it go? Depending on who it is, I might yell back, but most likely cry, ha ha. I hate being yelled at, like a lot. Is the person you last texted single? That would be my mom, so yeah. I've hoped she'd find a partner forever... She, probably more than anyone I know, deserves love from the *right* guy. I worry a lot how lonely she may become whenever I move out. Are you easily scared by horror movies? Not at all. Are you friends with any of your ex boyfriend/girlfriends? Girt and Sara, yes. Are you lonely? Be honest. Very. What has made you happy today? It's too early for this. What has made you sad today? Nothing, really. Last thing eaten? I had leftover pancakes from yesterday. Are you wearing anything that’s not yours? No. Do you like to wear makeup? I mean it makes me feel prettier, sure, but the actual time investment doesn't feel worth it for me personally. Especially when you're not even that good with applying it. Have you ever attempted to write a story or novel? Many times when I was younger. Would you rather have perfect hair or perfect skin? Perfect skin. I hate my skin, it has so many blemishes. What’s your middle name? Marie. How big is your bed? Queen. Do you drink? Only a bit for special occasions, really. I'll have a daiquiri on your average day every once and a blue moon. Would you fall apart if that last person you kissed walked out of your life? That's an understatement. Do you prefer pasta, salad, or coleslaw? Pasta. I hate coleslaw. Do you find smoking unattractive? Yes. Where’s the last place you went besides your house? The TMS office. Do you eat breakfast daily? Yes. Who were you with the last time you went to the movie theater? My dad. Do you like your cell phone? No, but it gets the job done. I just wish I had a phone with a good camera. Has anyone ever sang to you? Yes. So, what if you married the last person you kissed? That's the dream, but I acknowledge and accept it just might not work out like that. Do you usually answer your texts? Almost always. Have you ever changed clothes in a vehicle? Yes. Who has seen you cry the most? My mom, for sure. Have you ever just laid down outside and stared at the stars? Yeah, Jason and I did that one night on the trampoline. Have your friends ever randomly stopped by your house? In the past, yes. Think to the last person you kissed; have you ever kissed them on the ground? No. Do you have a condom in your room? No, got no use for one. Do your siblings ever pay for stuff for you? Yes. What brand is your digital camera? Canon. Do you own expensive perfume/cologne? No; I really don't get the point. When was the last time you went tanning? Ew, never. I find NO appeal in just lying in the boiling sun. Do you like the smell of fresh cut grass? No, I hate it. Do you get embarrassed easily? Like you would not fucking believe. It's one of the things I hate most about myself, because I'm embarrassed about everything I like and what makes me me. Has anyone ever thrown you a surprise party? No. Do you always wear your seatbelt? Absolutely. You couldn't pay me not to. Do you sing in the shower? No. Have you ever been called a slut/whore/something along those lines? Only playfully among friends. Have you ever stood up for someone you hardly/didn't even know? Yes. Have you ever fallen in love with a really good friend of yours? Yes. Do you own a blacklight? No. Do you like fruit better than vegetables? Definitely. Have your friends met the last person you kissed? Of my current friends, only Girt has. If you’re straight, have you ever thought about kissing the same sex? If you’re gay, have you ever thought about kissing the opposite sex? I'm bisexual, soooo. What does your laugh sound like? Do you have a loud laugh or a quiet laugh? Bro my laugh is so fucking loud and obnoxious. Is there a reality TV show you would consider taking part in? No.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''paranoiac personality'' by alice cooper

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melan-cauli · 3 years

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Questions

1. What was the name of the first person you ever had a crush on? Why did you like them?

I was in kindergarten and his name was Eddy. I liked him because our cubbies were next to each other. haha.

2. What is one thing you regret having done or not done in your life?

I try not to regret things, but I feel like I regret times where I wasn’t the best friend to people-- when I let my mental health take over and isolate me, causing me to ghost some people I cared about.

3. Which parent do you identify with the most?

My mom, definitely. I love her with my entire being (not to mention I don’t have a great relationship with my dad), but even beside that, I have a lot of her mannerisms and her exact sense of humor.

4. What do you think you cook or bake the best?

I am not big on cooking or baking; it’s just not something I have a lot of skill and practice in. I am good at making banana bread and taco dip!

5. If you could change your first name what would it be?

I really don’t know if I would change my name, but maybe I would choose something that allowed for more nicknames, like Charlotte.

6. Can you hula hoop?

I haven’t in a long time, but yes I can... and now I want to go hula-hoop, haha.

7. What embarrasses you the most in front of other people?

I am so beyond easily embarrassed, but it really all comes down to talking. I feel like I am not very eloquent, so when I ramble often or misspeak, I get really down on myself and assume everyone has become mad at me or thinks I am stupid.

8. Have you considered running for president?

Not in any serious manner, no. I don’t think I would have the right stamina and energy for it. I have strong beliefs, but as I mentioned before, I get embarrassed just by speaking and I would get so frustrated trying to debate people who cannot articulate ideas well or who refuse to listen.

9. If you had to choose one thing you were most passionate about, what would it be and why?

Writing. It is the one thing in my life that I have ever felt confident in, and I have been drawn to it since I was just a little kid. There is nothing about writing that I don’t love, and it is the easiest way for me to communicate in both a straight-forward manner and a creative one.

10. Who are you most envious of—real or fictional—and why?

I don’t really have particular people that I envy. I suppose I just envy people who have got control of their mental health issues and who can articulate it in a healthy manner, but that is something I am getting better at and working toward!

11. Where is the most beautiful place on earth and why?

That’s a really hard question-- as beauty is subjective and there are soooo many gorgeous places. I would personally say Germany. I say that because of its history, architecture, art, landscape, etc. I just kind of love the idea of the country, and I would love to visit one day.

12. Are ghosts real?

I am a firm believer in ghosts. Yes.

13. Are aliens real?

100% I think it is naïve to believe that there is no other life form out there when our galaxy is so vast.

14. How old is the most expired item in your fridge?

They are no longer in my fridge, but my strawberries went bad yesterday... Sadly.

15. What are your favorite style of underwear?

Hipster!

16. What’s the saddest song you’ve ever heard?

There are so many, but the first one that came to mind was Hyperballad by Whitley (originally by Bjork)

17. How about the sweetest song?

Metaphors by Keaton Henson

18. Do you know how to play dominoes?

I have no idea. I have always owned dominoes, and my grandparents played, but I was never taught.

19. What’s under your bed?

A cat toy in the shape of an avocado

20. Have you ever prank called someone?

So many times. It was my friends and my favorite pastime growing up. It was all always friendly and just ridiculous.

21. 100 kittens or 3 baby sloths?

100 Kittens. I love little baby cats, and cats in general-- they are so sweet and snuggly. I miss when my family cat had kittens; they were so fun to take care of.

22. Are you proud of what you’re doing with your heart and time right now?

I’m trying to be. I am trying to acknowledge my successes and be proud of my progress.

23. Why or why not?

I have a good job in my field, I have dedicated all my time to working on my mental health, and I am trying to put myself first for once, so I am trying to acknowledge the good in all of that. It’s just always been hard for me to do so.

24. How many bones have you broken?

None (knock on wood)

25. Have you ever won anything? Big or small?

I won third place in state-wide writing competition in the third grade, and a Student Writing Award in college.

26. If you could buy one material thing, and money was not an issue, what would it be?

A house. I just want a place that is all my own-- it doesn’t have to be big or anything, I just want to own my dwelling.

27. What’s your favorite movie from your childhood?

I would say Ever After (even though Forrest Gump is my favorite movie and has been since childhood). I just have so many memories with my mom watching that movie, and I love Drew Barrymore.

28. What food will you absolutely not, under any circumstances, eat?

Oysters. No way in hell.

29. What’s the best way to comfort you when you’re having a really terrible day?

Take me on a long car ride and just let me stare out the window.

30. Has anything/anyone ever saved your life before?

Not in a dramatic way, but yes, plenty of people have through different emotional ways.

31. Would you ever adopt a child?

I don’t want children, but I have never been opposed to adopting. I used to want to adopt when I was younger and thought I wanted kids, actually.

32. What is one thing you’re embarrassed to admit you want to try?

Learning to roller skate

33. If you were a cake which cake would you be?

Cheesecake! Not everyone’s taste, but still delicious.

34. What is the most important material possession you have and why?

I am not super attached to material items, but probably my over-shirt that use to belong to my grandmother; it is one thing I own that has deep-rooted sentimental value.

35. What is the most important memory you have and why?

I think most memories are of equal importance, but one of my favorites is of when my cousins and I used to get together in the fall and do yard work for my grandma. They were long days, but everyone was happy, we were together, we had good food, and my family members weren’t sick...

36. When was the last time you cried?

Thursday

37. How old was your mother when she had you?

She was 31

38. Which famous person would you like to be BFFs with?

I think I would mesh really well with Julien Baker

39. Is there something you wish you had said sorry for but never did?

Over the years, I have actually reached out to the people I thought I needed to apologize to, so I have made my peace with all of this.

40. Have you been on your first date? If so, how did it go?

I have been. It was nice and outdoorsy, but it was also a bit awkward because we didn’t know what to talk about most of the time (and the memory was spoiled a day or two after)...

questions credited to @itakesurveys

#questions #answers #ask #about me #me #personal #julien baker #forrest gump #ever after #keaton henson

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worldwidebt7 · 4 years

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Hell(L)ing || 02

§ — Pairing: Chimera!Taehyung x Empath!Reader (with mentions of Reader x Other Members)

§ — Genre: SciFi AU, fluff, angst, smut, horror

§ — Wordcount: 3,161

§ — Rating: M

§ — Warnings: My attempt at writing something creepy...? So, I’ll be both sorry and glad if it does scare you a little hahaha

§ — A/N: Chapter 2! Yay! I’m surprised to actually be tagging people for this! I’ve never had anyone want to be tagged in my written stories before... It makes me so happy! Writing and drawing are BOTH great creative passions for me, which is why comics are what I lean towards on most days, but sometimes I want to swiftly move through a story, and drawing takes too much time... I know you guys are here for my art, but I hope you’ll enjoy my writing as well! Again, this was originally for @bang-tan-bitches ‘Monster Mash Challenge’, which I really wish I had entered, but there was so much good writing that you should definitely check out!

Summary: You moved out into the wilderness to live a calm, peaceful life. Your abilities made it impossible to live in crowded places, so even if you wanted to you couldn’t return. But when something happens outside the realm of even your normalcy, you start to think that maybe having everyone else’s emotions bearing down on you isn’t such a bad alternative to being trapped with your own.

You spent the remainder of the afternoon pacing around your kitchen, sending glances at the business card on your counter top, and considering calling Seokjin. ‘Genetic Anthropologist’ is what it said on the card; clearly his job title, but you had no idea what it entailed. You could define the words separately, but together it created a delineation that you couldn’t even fathom. His strange career aside, you couldn’t help but be troubled about the boy you saw earlier.

He had been in the area you were fairly certain was now Seokjin’s property, and the fact that the purple-haired man hadn’t mentioned any relatives or roommates concerned you. It was a biting feeling, rather, that you couldn’t shake off. You were rational— you considered it was a friend or family visiting, but there was something so… off about the boy that you feel like you should check on your new neighbor to make sure he was fine. Or at the very least warn him that there was someone lurking near his home.

Deciding that you wouldn’t be able to calm your nerves otherwise, you pulled your phone from your pocket and dialed his number, making a mental note to save it in your contacts afterwards. It rang; once, twice, three times— and continued to ring. For a moment, you mildly panicked; what if something had happened to him? Sucking in a breath, you pulled the phone away to hang up and try again, when you heard a man’s voice come through your phone.

“Hello?” In an instant, you smashed the phone back against your ear in alacrity.

“S-Seokjin? Kim Seokjin?” You replied, your heart racing. You weren’t sure why you were asking if it was really him, but you wouldn’t put it past yourself to type in the wrong number when you were hastily attempting to contact him.

“…Yes…?” His answer was drawn out, a defensive tone slipping through his words. You let out a breath of relief, placing a hand on your chest as your pulse began to stabilize. You hear him clear his throat. “Uh, who is this…?”

“Oh! Right! Sorry, this is Y/N, your neighbor?” Embarrasses, you laugh at yourself. How was he supposed to know that you were calling? And of course you hadn’t say anything— you were more concerned about making sure he was still among the living.

“Oh! Y/N!” His pitch changed drastically at the mention of your name, and you couldn’t help the little smile and shallow eye-roll produced by this. One conversation with this man and you were already reacting to him as if he were a friend. This, while nice, was also alarming considering the deception that dripped off of his emotions when you had contact with him. “How can I be of service?” You could practically hear the purr in his voice, though the question brought you back to why you originally called.

“Oh, um…” Releasing an exhale through your nose, you pondered at your wording for a moment before continuing. “I, uh… I actually wanted to let you know that I saw someone near your house earlier…” Seokjin was silent, not that there was really much to respond to, but he was so still that you couldn’t even hear his breath.

“…Oh?” His voice broke through the thick quiet, and you swallowed, the defensive quality to his tone returning tenfold and turning his usually cheery voice completely stony.

“Y-yeah.” You stuttered, suddenly feeling pressure building in the conversation. “A boy… w-with black hair… He was down by the lake earlier today….” The palm of your hand rubbed nervously on your sweatpants as you flexed and unflexed your fingers. Normally, you didn’t get much through a phone call, voices were rarely an accurate representation of one’s true thoughts, but the weight of his aura was so severe that you felt a chill throughout your body.

“Oh! Yes, that’s my roommate!” His suddenly chipper voice made your head spin. “He won’t be around much, but don’t mind him if you do see him!” He let out a laugh, which didn’t sound particularly genuine. Your brows furrowed, trying to connect all of the doubts flying around in your mind.

“Ah, I see…” You chewed on your bottom lip. As unable as you were to read the situation, you knew something was up— there were truths, half-truths, and lies being told here, of that you were sure, but you couldn’t decide what pieces of information were which. “I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have bothered you if I had known.” You forced your voice to sound light, not wanting to come across rude or give away your reservations about the information being given to you.

“It’s no problem, I must have forgotten to mention him before,” And so he was back to, what you assumed, was his usual self. Alarmingly, you felt yourself relax. “Besides, I’ll always take any excuse to talk to you.” You snort, and a very different sounding laugh echoed through the phone— much like a windshield wiper. That, you could tell, was his true laugh, and what an infectious sound it was. Against your better judgment, you laughed as well.

“Are all conversations with you going to be like this?” You asked, attempting to recollect yourself. It terrified you how easily this man made you relax within his denigrations, and you now realized you would have to build a wall between you and Kim Seokjin.

“What are you talking about, I’m a delight!” He let out an indignant gasp— sarcastic, for the most part, but you had a feeling a very small part of him was actually offended. “Such a delight, in fact, that you should invite me over for a dinner date!” This time, you sputtered, a light blush rising to your cheeks. So much for that wall.

“W-we’ll see!” You manage to squeak out, causing another boisterous laugh to come from the other side of the phone.

“I’ll hold you to that Y/N!” And you could practically hear the wink he surly executed at your expense. You sigh and promise to invite him over once your pantry is stocked once more in a week. He hums, “You’d better! Remember, I have your number now, I can call you until you cave!” Another laugh and you assured him that you’d be contacting him again soon. With that, the two of you bid farewells and hung up.

Another heavy sigh left your lips as you placed your phone down on your counter. You were eerily calm after the whirlwind of emotions and doubt you had just over a simple phone call with Seokjin, and you could honestly say you were scared. He knew how to completely tear down your defenses and make you comfortable with him. The scarier part? You wanted to be at ease with him. Looking at your phone once more with a worried glance, you stepped around the peninsula of your counter to begin cooking dinner.

The following evening, your television played some mind-numbing show which you had little investment in, but for you it was a welcomed distraction from your thoughts. You hadn’t been able to work on your book at all— to your great chagrin. Namjoon would be visiting you in less than two days and you still only had four-fifths of a book prepared. You’d give it another go tomorrow, but you were starting to think that maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to just ask Namjoon for help. He was an excellent writer and would surly be able to give you some insight into why you were struggling.

You sighed, feeling a bit light-headed from what you assumed was stress. It wasn’t unlike you to become ill from over-exertion, especially with your abilities; it took a lot of energy and mental stamina to hone in and stay connected to others’ feelings the way you did. You had long tried to control it— you wanted to shut the essentially open door you had linking you to other people, but all attempts proved futile. It was draining, and though you did your best to stay away from other people, you still couldn’t help the exhaustion you felt after interacting with those few you did see. A sharp pain on the back of your neck had you groaning and moving a hand to rub the afflicted area. Man, you were tired…

Your phone lit up with an unimportant notification which allowed you to see that it had become quite late; much later than you were usually found awake. Deciding that the nameless show playing on the TV was far less important than sleep, you reached for the remote and pressed the power button, effectively turning off the senseless chattering of the shallow character. You shifted in your seat on the couch, only to immediately freeze in terror.

On your blackened television screen, there was a reflection of everything in front of it, and, in turn, everything behind you. There was the outline of your furniture, and you sitting upon it, but it was none of these things that caused your entire body to break out in a cold sweat. No, it was the secondary figure, the larger figure, the figure standing deathly still behind you.

Your breathing became erratic and your hands shook with how tightly they were gripping the seat cushions of your couch. You could only hope that the figure was separated from you by the thick glass of your window wall and not currently in your living room as your mind reeled trying to remember whether or not you had locked the doors to your house.

How had you not felt him coming? Even now, aware of his presence, you could hardly feel a thing. Just detached curiosity and… hunger… for what, you couldn’t tell. You’d never experienced anything like this, and every bit of your intuition was screaming that he was dangerous.

Your heart beat painfully against your sternum as you realized you had a choice— run, hide, or fight. Running could be eliminated; you had no where to run to, even with your car parked out front, and who knows if you’d even make it there before him. Fighting was out of the question as you had noodle arms and zero self defense knowledge, making you practically useless in any confrontational situation. This left you with one option:

Hide.

You took a couple of unsteady breaths to urge yourself to move, move, just move! Hand shooting out to grab your phone which rested on the coffee table in front of you, you sprung to your feet and immediately took off towards your stairs. Climbing them as quickly as your feet would carry you, your eyes flicked over to the figure hovering outside your house and you regretted the action immediately.

Those eyes. You’d only seen something similar in cats or dogs or birds when light reflected off of them— they were glowing in the dark, the only feature defined in a human figure shrouded in shadow. Not human, you mind screamed at you. Not human, not human. It wasn’t human. You knew, instinctively, it was something else.

The figure didn’t move an inch as you frantically scuttled up the stairs and you tore your gaze away, focusing solely on reaching the safety of your room and immediately throwing yourself into your closet and slamming the door. The only sound in the space was your choked, heavy breathing, but all you could hear was the blood rushing in your ears. You looked at your phone, clutched pathetically in your shaking hands. You had to call someone, anyone. Your friends? No, they wouldn’t get here in time. The police would be the same story, as you were at least a thirty-five-minute drive from town, and even further from the city where your friends lived. A small glimmer of hope registered in your hazed mind as you scrolled through your contacts. Hitting the name immediately, you pressed the phone to your ear and sniffled. You could only hope he would answer, it was so early in the morning so there was no guarantee, but if you still knew him like you once had—

“Hello?” a groggy, sleep-deprived voice floated through the speaker like music to your ears and you let out a choked cry. “…Y/N?” He asked, slightly more alert at your desperate sob.

“…Yoongi…?”

Min Yoongi was the only man in your life that you had allowed yourself to form a relationship with. You had met him as a freshman in college— he had been a resident assistant at your dorm and had taken it upon himself to show you (and a small group of other students, mind you) around the immediate area. You had noticed that his emotions were almost always calm and focused on whatever he was working on, and that made it easy to be physical with, as this was still at the point where your gift was sparked by touch. So, you went out of your way to get to know him.

Over time, your persistence won him over and he tentatively asked you out on a date that started a lovely three-year relationship. Well, rather, the first two-and-a-half years were lovely; the last six months were, as you remember, rather sobering.

He was a year older than you, and, in turn, graduated a year ahead of you despite his double-major (the man was a workaholic, honestly). At first, the two of you did your best to see each other— you skipped out on regular college weekend get-togethers to meet him or spend a few days at his apartment. Besides the distance, you didn’t think much else had changed between you, until he stopped touching you. Quite literally, in fact. If you would try to initiate hand holding, he’d quickly stuff his hands into his pockets. If you tried to kiss him, he’d dodge with a cough or a sneeze. One of the few times you had managed to graze your skin against his, you finally realized:

He cared about you, but he didn’t love you anymore.

It was the first time you had experienced the dissolution of such powerful emotions, and you realized that this would be your life. You would always have to experience your significant other and how they felt about you; you would always have to suffer through them falling out of love with you. Yoongi knew this— he was one of the only people you had spoken to about your abilities at the time, not wanting to ruin a normal university experience with rumors and students coming up to you and asking you for readings. But he knew that you’d be able to tell the difference in his feelings towards you, and tried to hide it.

When you finally asked him to sit down with you to discuss the change, he allowed you to take his hand to get a sense of the totality of the expiry of his love. However, you could also feel his immense sorrow, his guilt over hurting you. He really, truly still cared about you; just not how you wished he did.

Through tears, you let him go with a smile, telling him that you understood— because you did. You knew better than anyone the shift and tides of emotions, but you also knew that he would always care for you; the time spent together had not wasted away into the atmosphere. You remained friends over the years, but rarely ever contacted each other as the two of you had simply grown apart in your growing lives separate from one another.

But tonight, in your panic and fear, his number was the one you pressed. It was logical, of course— you had learned about the lake front homes from him after all, as he lived near-by cabin enjoying peace and quiet in his own solitude. So, in calling him, you knew that he would have the best chance to reach you in a swift manner. You couldn’t, however, say that there wasn’t some emotional aspect to the phone call. He was familiar, and the familiarity was a comfort to you. Just hearing his voice over the phone telling you he would be at your house in ten minutes or less had calmed your nerves significantly.

And so, the two of you stood in the middle of your living room in the early hours of the morning with every sing light in your house turned on. Having him there, standing in front of you in grey plaid pajama bottoms, a white tee, and a pair of PUMA slides, you picked up on the friendly affection he held for you, as well as slight irritation most likely caused by being out at this hour. You had told him everything; the figure, it’s eyes, the fact that you could barely get a read on him, the feeling of non-human you perceived.

“Not human?” Yoongi asked, clearly skeptic about the entire ordeal and if it hadn’t been for your sheer terror in response to it all, you were sure he would have just left immediately. You pouted, knowing how crazy it sounded, but also unable to simply brush aside your instincts.

“Yes, Yoongi, it didn’t feel human.” You were almost offended that he didn’t believe you— what would you gain from lying about this? Except for the obvious fact that your ex-boyfriend, who you found great difficulty moving on from for quite some time after your breakup, was now standing in your house at two-thirty in the morning. Still, as much as you had loved him, you were not interested in rekindling a relationship with a man who clearly was not in love with you anymore.

“Crazy glowing eyes aside, what makes you say that?” He inquired, plopping himself down on your couch, lazily man-spreading as if he’s a frequent visitor to your dwelling. You would have smiled, if it weren’t for the doubt he held in regard to your confession.

“I told you,” you huffed, running your still shaking fingers through your hair. “I couldn’t read him. Not like everyone else. I didn’t even feel him coming!” You tossed your hand in the direction where the figure appeared. Yoongi sighed,

“Maybe your powers are getting weaker?” He suggested, to which you shook your head.

“No, I had no problem detecting you when you arrived, and I can read your emotions as well as ever.” If only your abilities were fading, your life would be so much simpler and you would love nothing more than to move back to the city where your close friends resided. “Exhaustion, irritation, doubt, concern, fondness…” You rattled off all the emotions rolling off of him in waves, though they were still as mellow and manageable as they always were. He dropped his head to rest on the back of the couch and closed his eyes.

“Years of knowing you and I’m still not used to that…” Your heart sank a bit at this even though you knew the comment was not meant to be malicious, your senses telling you he meant it in a teasing way. But it still reminded you that you were not normal. After a moment he pulled himself forward to rest his forearms on his knees and ruffled his bleach-blonde hair. “Alright. I can see you’re seriously freaked out by this…” He looked over at you, his sharp eyes almost trying to read you like you were able to read him. “…I’ll sleep on the couch tonight if that’ll make you feel better.” You released an alleviated sigh before bouncing over to him and wrapping him up in a chaste hug.

“Thank you, Yoongi…” He didn’t exactly return the hug, only reaching up and patting your back reassuringly, but you felt the small spike of comfort and serenity at the friendly action, and that was enough to tell you that your gesture was appreciated.

Afterwards, you gathered spare blankets and a pillow from your linen closet for Yoongi to use for the evening. You had tried to offer him other amenities, such as water or tea, but he politely turned you down, clearly wanting nothing more than to sleep. Thanking him once more, you retired to your own room, leaving your door open and turning the light on your bedside table on to illuminate the darkness. You kept your back towards the window in your room, not wanting to subject yourself to the self-inflicted fear you would surly create from the moving shadows of the trees just outside. You were on the second floor, surly safe from the beings that lurk below and now, with the thought of Yoongi snoozing on our couch, you allowed yourself to slip off into a, thankfully, dreamless sleep.

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himbowelsh · 4 years

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I love your writing! I don't think I have seen him yet, so sweet Carwood Lip please for the Valentine's alphabet, if you have the time 💖

valentines day alphabet ( accepting! )

A : AFFECTION. how does your muse show affection?

He has a very gentle presence, which allows him to share space with someone without being overwhelming. Lip’s love languages are quality time --- he thrives in being around people, actively listening to them and getting to know them --- and acts of service. Once he knows them well, he’s able to be there for them, doing little things to help them out when they need it most. Lip is a generous guy to begin with, but he’s at his best when able to do things for others. He’s a giver. While not shy about physical affection, he uses it strategically, more to reinforce his presence than be excessively affectionate.

B : BOUQUET. does your muse like flowers? which ones are their favourite?

He has a special fondness for flowers, in the “I should probably not be left alone to grow any of them myself” way. He enjoys looking at them, and his mother maintained a lovely garden which he helped with on occasion, under her strict supervision. Bouquets are a favorite gift, and he’s likely to show up with a nice one to any special occasion.

C : CHOCOLATE. does your muse like chocolate? which one is their favourite?

He’s not a big fan... so he’d claim, 'til he spots a bowl of brownie batter, at which point he must be fought off with the nearest ladle.

D : DATE. what is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?

He wouldn’t mind something simple and quiet --- maybe a night at home, where he gets to surprise his partner with a homemade dinner. He’d light some candles, get out the nice silverware, and just enjoy the time with his partner; afterwards, they’d go out onto the porch with mugs of coffee or tea, drinking in the quiet night. He’s also partial to visits to museums. Being surrounded by art gives him a certain sense of peace, an insight into humanity as more than it currently is; that’s something he’d love to share with his partner.

E : EMBRACE. does your muse like hugs? what are their hugs like?

It’s all about the arms, man. We knows this. He had the arms of a bear-faced god, and isn’t afraid to use them. Being hugged by Lip is like curling up by a fire, under your comfiest blanket, with a good book and a warm drink. He makes people feel safe.

F : FLIRT. is your muse good at flirting? how do they flirt?

Shy boy. Flirting is definitely not where he excels, and he’s too guileless to do it properly. Just... approaching a stranger and winking at them? “Chatting them up”? That’s... uncomfortable.He’s the sort of guy to buy people drinks at the bar and genuinely not expect anything in return, though it’d be nice if they did. Lip is much more flirtatious once actually in a relationship --- he jokes and teases in a charming, restrained way that’s utterly him.

G : GIFT. is your muse good at gift - giving or do they struggle to get it right?

He’s a very thoughtful gift giver, who takes the time to observe what people need, and genuinely listens to them when they talk about things they’re looking for. Unconsciously, he keeps mental lists of gift ideas for all the people in his life, and refers to them whenever a birthday or holiday comes up. He’s not excessive with his gifts, but they’re always just right. (Except when it comes to clothes. He should never be allowed to pick out clothes for other people, especially women’s clothing.)

H : HEART. is your muse quick or slow to give their heart away?

He cares for a lot of people, but Lip is always cautious; his heart is a carefully guarded thing, and once he trusts someone with it, he wants to know that they’re the right person. His heart is won gradually, over a period of coming to know and love a person better.

I : I LOVE YOU. does your muse find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?

He finds it very easy, as soon as he knows it within his own heart. Lip could absolutely be the first one to say it in a relationship --- and wouldn’t be discouraged if his partner didn’t immediately say it back, because everything comes in it’s own time. He’d rather it be natural than forced in the moment. Lip doesn’t say it constantly, but every time he does, the words carry twice their original meaning.

J : JEALOUSY. does your muse get jealous in a relationship?

While certainly not intimidated easily, Lip has a jealous streak he goes to great efforts to smother. It’s not gentlemanly, it’s not always sensible, and certainly not something to make a scene in public over... but he might pointedly capture his partner’s attention if he feels it straying, and try to discuss things in private afterwards. He doesn’t like this part of himself, but he can get a bit defensive sometimes.

K : KISS. is your muse a good kisser? why / why not?

Lip... thinks he’s a worse kisser than he is. He underestimates himself. Sometimes overthinking gets the better of him; he’s hyperconscious of where his hands are, what his partner’s body is doing, how they’re responding, whether he’s being gentlemanly or over-forceful... Lip’s kisses tend to be restrained and respectful, not assuming anything. The farthest he’ll go is sucking on his partner’s lip a little, just to test their response. Whatever response they give, and whatever lead they take, he’ll go from there. Given the proper cues,

L : LOVE. who does your muse love?

His mother and brother, absolutely; his friends, completely; his neighbors, because he’s the sort of guy who knows his neighbors’ names, and helps Old Mrs. Huston down the street with her groceries every week; and his partner, with all his heart, if he were to have one.

M : MOONLIGHT. is morning or night a more romantic setting?

He’s at his most sappy romantic mid-morning, when the sun’s high in the sky and the world is finding its rhythm. Getting to spend a quiet morning in with his partner sounds like heaven.

N : NAUGHTY. what is your muse like in bed?

He’s willing to follow his partner anywhere they want to take him; Lip can never be comfortable until he’s sure his partner is, and is sure of what they want. Now, if they want him to be dominant, he’ll do it gladly... but he’ll never be rough. He’s very into hearing his partner talk during sex, mostly because he wants to keep tabs and know how they’re doing; but if his partner’s the one who seizes control, Lip runs out of words very quickly. Harsh breathing, moans even when he tries to hold them back, eyes squeezed shut to cling to his self-control... into hand holding during sex. He’s a very physical lover, with a lot of stamina; sometimes leaves bruises without meaning to and feels guilty afterwards (aftercare with Lip is like going to a spa). Occasionally he enjoys music to set the mood, or even candlelight, but Lip’s versatile. If his partner’s up for it, he can rumble pretty much anywhere.

O : ODE. does your muse have a way with words?

He’s a surprisingly skilled writer, and can be quite eloquent when he puts his mind to it. Though plainspoken by nature, Lip’s written a few poems for his private collection, and would definitely try his hand at love poetry for his partner. They’re not half-bad.

P : PARTNER. what does your muse look for in a partner? looks / personality?

Lip kind of wants someone who can keep him on his toes a bit. For as steady as he is, he’s drawn to unpredictable people, with a healthy sense of humor. Someone who appreciates quiet, but knows exactly when to fill it; someone who isn’t afraid of responsibility or commitment. A hard worker; someone who can carry an intelligent conversation, and is naturally a thinker. If they share common interests, like literature/museums/engineering, he’d be absolutely delighted. Above all else, Lip’s drawn to people with beautiful smiles, even if they don’t show it off that often.

Q : QUESTION. would your muse ask the big question or expect their partner to?

Call him traditional (it’s valid, cause he is) but Lip would like to be the one to pop the question. As soon as he decides that, yes, he wants to spend the rest of his life with this person, Lip’s next step is to evaluate --- do they feel the same way? He spends a while overthinking this question before finally deciding to just take the leap and buy a ring. The proposal will come in a quiet moment, when he and his partner are both feeling equally at peace. If his partner beats him to it, he’ll be surprised, of course... but either way, the end result is the same. If it means spending

R : ROMANCE. is your muse a romantic or a cynic?

He wishes he were more romantic... but, unfortunately, practicality is ingrained in this man’s bones. He’ll definitely surprise his partner with bouquets on occasion, and thinks very carefully about gifts, but he’s not the ‘spontaneous romantic adventure’ sort.

S : SWEETHEART. did your muse have a childhood sweetheart?

He had a few middle school crushes that never went anywhere; that’s as far as Little Lip’s love life ever went. He bore a lot of responsibility from a young age, so never really had time to mess around.

T : TRUE LOVE. does your muse believe in true love?

He... would have to see it firsthand to believe in it, but he believes in individual cases of it. Like, his mother and father --- that was true love. Lip saw the way they looked at each other, so there’s not a doubt in his mind. He doesn’t believe it’s everywhere, or even common, but in certain cases true love definitely exists. Maybe it’s out there for him, too... he hopes so.

U : UNREQUITED. has your muse had their heart broken?

In a romantic relationship? Not... not really. Lip’s got a strong heart. It’s endured a lot, and can endure more.

V : VALENTINE. how does your muse feel about valentine’s day?

He’s a very proper “dinner date and a box of chocolates” type, so would go out of his way to do something nice for a partner, but doesn’t make much of the day himself.

W : WEDDING. would your muse get married? why / why not?

Yes, this is absolutely something he wants! Lip’s given it a lot of thought, and the idea of raising his own family appeals greatly to him; he lost his father at such a young age that he really wants to be a constant, supportive presence in his childrens’ lives. And, more than anything, he wants to spend a lifetime with someone he loves. That would make any future struggles and past strifes worth it.

X : XOXO. does your muse use / like pet names?

Very conservative with them. “Sweetheart” or dimunitives of someone’s name is probably as far as he’d go.

Y : YOURS. does your muse get protective easily?

Again, yes, and he doesn’t like it about himself! Of course, Lip would move mountains when the people he loves need help --- there’s no shame in that --- but when it comes to his partner, he can get territorial. Seeing someone threaten his partner is one of the few things he’ll get angry about, and a pissed off Carwood Lipton is not something anyone wants to confront firsthand.

Z : ZZZ. how many people has your muse slept with?

Not a lot. He went to college for a short time, and that was really where he was able to let loose; while still a diligent student, he went to a few parties and met a few girls. So, by the time of the war, maybe three partners? Enough that he’s not nervous in bed, and has a good idea what goes where.

#carwood lipton #headcanons

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