#hoping it’s a new character instead 🙏🏻 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

m1ckeyb3rry · 7 months

Text

── THE GLASS PRINCESS // SEVEN

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: You get your first taste of freedom from the constricting walls of the Earth Palace.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.2k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: hello everyone and welcome to part two of the glass princess!! in the next few chapters we will be learning more about princess y/n and how she met zuko/the fall of ba sing se :) thank you all for reading!! and yes i did make up an entire spirit for the #plot 😭🙏🏻 i promise she will have significance to the story later on though!!

Although it was uncharitable, you could not help yourself from thinking that the only reason Long Feng was allowing your brother to keep that ridiculous creature around was because of its apparent resemblance to Quynh. In a way, it could be considered to have been made in her image, and Kuei knew that as well as you did, which was why he was currently leaping about joyfully, shaking you by the shoulders as if he were a child instead of a man.

“I’ve found him!” Kuei shrieked at you for the thousandth time. “I’ve found Quynh’s son! She hasn’t abandoned us after all, Y/N! She sent her son to me!”

“That ghastly, muddy creature is no child of Quynh’s,” you said, wrinkling your nose at the tufts of fur all over the fine carpet. “And Quynh never abandoned us in the first place. I do not know why you think that that is the case.”

“No one has seen her in nearly a century, and it’s been even longer since anyone found Quynh’s Door. If ever she was real, she left the palace long ago,” Kuei said. “Maybe she was never a spirit in the first place — just one of Bosco’s ancestors.”

“That is blasphemy!” you rebuked him. “Quynh is no Agni — she is a concrete spirit, not an abstract deity. If anything, she is far more similar to Tui and La, from the Northern Water Tribe.”

“Who?” Kuei said.

“The ocean and moon spirits,” you said with a heavy sigh, once again finding yourself unimpressed by Kuei and his ignorance. “They live in the Northern Water Tribe and allow Waterbenders to bend.”

“Quynh doesn’t allow anyone to bend. She’s a different legend entirely. You should know that,” he said. You gritted your teeth.

“I wish you would pick up a book for once! It was an analogy, you fool,” you said.

“It matters not,” Kuei said after a second. “I don’t know why you’re so set on this fairytale, but the sooner you give up on it, the sooner you can find the wonder in the real world.”

“By the real world, do you mean my chambers?” you said. “Or yours? Because that is the extent of the world I know.”

“I mean the bear sitting before you at this very moment!” he said, ignoring your pointed response and gesturing towards his new pet with a flourish. “You are more taken with a made up story than an actual natural phenomenon. That’s a problem, dear sister.”

Bosco the bear grumbled at you in agreement, blinking his large, wet eyes at you. And perhaps you might’ve been impressed by his sturdy build and elegant snout, but all you could see when you gazed upon him was a cheap copy, a faded replica that could never hope to capture even half of the original’s glory.

“Well, dear brother, it can’t be helped. Your pet will never be Quynh,” you said.

“Always bringing down the mood, aren’t you?” he said, rolling his eyes at you. “I wasn’t saying he was Quynh, I was saying he resembled her greatly. Anyways, you know stories always inflate their characters; for all we know, Quynh really did once look like this.”

You wanted to argue with him, but of course it would not be productive. Like the element he ruled, your brother was set in his ways — the only qualities he had in equal measure to stubbornness were cowardice and naïveté, both of which he was perhaps better known for. It was true, though, that when he gained a sense of conviction for something, he’d stand by it with a fervor that he rarely displayed otherwise. It was one of the few attributes you could genuinely admire him for, even if it was inconvenient at times.

“As you say,” you said. “I see no purpose in further discussions on the matter. You do not believe in Quynh, and I do. Neither of us can change the other’s mind, so we ought to just move on.”

“Compliment Bosco first,” Kuei said. “On my authority as the Earth King, I demand it.”

“You demand a lot of things on that tenuous authority,” you muttered. Then, you smiled at the piteous looking bear. “You truly deserve to be my brother’s companion. I am certain you are possessed with the same commanding spirit that he is so fortunate to claim.”

Kuei beamed at you. “Thank you. You can return to your room.”

You snickered at him. “It is appreciated.”

Only when you were halfway down the hallway did he shout in protest, realizing your thinly veiled insult. You sped up your pace, running towards your room before he could come and question you or make another demand — you did not put it past him to insist that you compliment his bear properly.

It was one of those ways you had to get back at him. You were ever searching for more, trying your best to needle the brother who was, whether directly or indirectly, the cause of your imprisonment.

Your chambers. His chambers. The hallway in between. These were the confines of your world, according to Kuei and Long Feng, who was his most trusted advisor. It would be dangerous, after all, for a girl with no bending and royal blood flowing through her veins to be wandering the streets without protection, even in a city as safe as Ba Sing Se. So although you had begged to at least see the kingdom which was your own, you had been promptly refused every time, the locks changed periodically and the guards rotated hourly to ensure they stayed alert to your movements.

Escape was impossible, but even in such a life, you could find solace: in your dressing room, a door would sometimes appear, a door which led to the heart of the palace — not the throne room, but the true heart upon which the entire structure was constructed. Quynh’s Den, the entrance to which was constantly shifting between the spirit world and the mortal one, was the only place you had for yourself, though of course you shared it with its other inhabitant: the great mother bear spirit Quynh.

It was there today. Ensuring that the entrance to your own chambers was sufficiently blocked, you did not even hesitate to pull the door open, ducking into the stone passageway behind it eagerly. The only light came from the glowing crystals overhead, but you knew the way so well that you could’ve tread it even with your eyes closed, so the dimness did not trouble you any.

It did not make sense for such a long, winding hall made entirely of stone to be behind your dressing room, but that was because the hallway was not truly there. The door was only a gateway to the realm in which Quynh’s Den resided, but that realm was somewhere else, in some intangible other dimension that did not quite obey the same rules as yours.

Time, too, felt strange in this place. You did not know for how long you walked; you never did. You could only keep going until the narrow passage opened into a large cavern, the walls of which were studded with the same glowing green crystals that the entire hall had been encrusted with. The majority of the space was taken up by a massive black form curled up on a bed of ghostly white moss, her head resting on paws that were several times your own size. You knew from past experience that if you were to stand right beside her when she was in such a position, you would barely even be able to peek over her nose.

“Quynh,” you said. Twin jewels blinked open — her enormous eyes were the same luminous shade as the crystals surrounding her, and they, too, shone with a mysterious, intrinsic power.

“Y/N,” she said, the cavern rumbling with the depth of her voice. “I was wondering when you would come again.”

“I come whenever you allow me to,” you said, moving so that you could sit in front of her. She huffed, tilting her head so that you could clamber onto her paw and lean against the plush fur of her cheek, which would be several times warmer than the cold stone floor.

“It’s not under my control,” she said. “You know my limitations.”

“Yes, of course I do,” you said. “That’s how it’s always been. I was just reminding you, so that you are not angry.”

“I do not blame you,” she said. “For not visiting. I know that you cannot unless the circumstances align. Rather, it is that I am bereaved when you are gone. It has been many years since I could say this with certainty, but the truth is that I miss your company.”

“And I, yours,” you said. “Though you should not feel too complimented by that. It is you or Kuei, and I am, as ever, irritated by him at the moment.”

“You should not quarrel with him,” Quynh chided you. “He is the only family you have. It does you no good to fight with him so frequently. You will be sad if something happens and those are the only memories you have of him.”

“I wish that you were not inclined to defend him!” you said.

“Whether you like it or not, he is of the same line as you. I love him as well, for that fact. I am bound to,” she said. You pouted.

“You ought to love me more. He doesn’t even think you are real,” you said. “I’m the only one who’s believed in you in decades.”

“A mother cannot declare favorites,” Quynh said diplomatically. “And so, neither can I. You ought to know this by now.”

“He’s found a bear,” you muttered obstinately. “It’s a disgusting creature. Rolls in mud whenever given the opportunity and barely knows to shut its jowls when it’s eating.”

“A bear?” Quynh said, one of her ears flicking with interest. “I did not know of any which existed.”

“I suppose there is this one,” you said. “He is a true bear; I have ascertained as much. He does resemble you, though it is in the way that quartz resembles diamond.”

Bear was not quite enough to encapsulate what Quynh was. Certainly, her form was as such, but she was in a sense phantasmic, and so ascribing a physical species to her was disingenuous. That was why you found it so grating that Kuei was frolicking about and proclaiming that he had found her equal — she had no equal. Quynh stood alone.

“It is unfair,” she said, “for you to hold that against him. If you were possessed with an uneducated eye, you, too, would mistake the quartz for the diamond. He cannot be blamed.”

“I would know,” you said. “Even if I were blind, I would know. The diamond possesses something which the quartz never can.”

“And what might that be?” Quynh said.

“I don’t know,” you said. “But there is some such quality.”

“Perhaps,” she said. “Or perhaps you are upset about something entirely different and are taking out your frustration on an animal that cannot help its ancestry and a brother who is known to be a fool.”

“On that much, we can agree,” you said with a self-satisfied smile. “Kuei is a fool.”

“Y/N,” Quynh warned you. You hung your head in defeat.

“I asked Long Feng if I could leave again,” you said. “I thought he was in a generous mood, considering he raised no complaint about Bosco being moved to the royal chambers, but he refused! I told him I would not stray from my guards’ side, that I only wished to go for a matter of minutes, but still he said no.”

“Did he give his reasons?” Quynh said.

“The same as ever,” you said. “Until Kuei marries and has children, I am next in line for the throne. As the heir, I must be kept with the utmost of caution, and the only place I can be safe for certain is the palace.”

“He’s not entirely wrong,” she said. “The world is dangerous. More than you might think.”

“I don’t think anything,” you said, though you immediately felt poorly for snapping at her. “I cannot even form an opinion on the city I might one day rule. What sort of a princess does not even know her subjects? To say nothing of my brother the king, who himself has not left the palace walls in years and is entirely comfortable with that! I cannot understand it. I cannot understand why he has no desire to know his people, the very people who love him so dearly as to accept him as their ruler.”

“Not everyone is like you,” Quynh said, nudging you as gently as she could. “And your brother’s past shaped who he is now. You cannot blame him for desiring safety when he was there when it all happened.”

She spoke of your father. You had never met the man, for he had died days before you had been born, so you felt no grief at the reminder, but you knew it was not the same for Kuei. After all, your father’s death was the only reason your brother had taken the throne in the first place; a throne which, at his young age, he had been ill-suited for.

Due to Kuei’s fondness for animals, which he had had since he was very young, your father had taken him to the zoo for his birthday. There, a wayward assassin of the Earthbending variety had sent spikes of stone into your father’s heart, killing him before the guards could even react. It was all they could do to save Kuei and run — the assassin, as far as you knew, still walked free today, for they had been too concerned with your brother’s protection to chase after the killer.

The zoo was shut down. The child Kuei was crowned king, though your mother was deemed his regent. Days later, she fell gravely ill. Giving birth to you was the last thing she did — she never left the childbearing bed, using the final remains of her strength to push you out and hold you tightly against her chest until she stopped breathing entirely.

One child there for your father’s last moments. The other, for your mother’s. Quynh was not exaggerating in saying that Kuei was the only family you had left, but your lives had been so dissimilar as to be entire opposites. He had his ministers and advisors to replace the gap your father had left in his life. You had Quynh to serve as your mother, in whatever way she could.

“The guards will be vigilant,” you said. “And anyways, even if I am Kuei’s heir, I doubt that anyone would have cause to assassinate me. I am not important enough to the kingdom. If I were killed, Kuei would simply marry earlier, and have more children, so it would be a net loss for any assailants.”

“You know that I am not opposed to it,” Quynh said. “It is your brother and his advisors who forbid you; I am only reminding you to respect their wishes, for they, in some manner, have your best interests at heart.”

“But I am dying of it,” you said. “Every day I languish in the palace, I can feel my spirit being crushed by the ever-encroaching walls. My only respite is visiting you, Quynh, but even that is not enough. I am still captive.”

Quynh sighed. It was a great sound, whistling and low, teeming with disappointment and worry and affection, all in equal measure. You rubbed your hand against her fur, waiting for her response, though you doubted it would be any different than every other time you had asked.

“You want me to open a door to the kingdom,” she said.

“Yes,” you said. “If I go alone, in the garb of a commoner, then I should escape notice entirely.”

“Alright,” she said. You opened your mouth to argue before closing it.

“Alright?” you repeated. “You’re saying yes? What about the usual rebuttals? It’s too much of a risk, Y/N, you won’t even be able to find Quynh’s Door.”

“It’s true,” she said. “You won’t have that guarantee, but of course, I can manually open doors back to the palace. The danger in this is that you will have to wait until I can open a door to allow your return, even if you want it earlier. As you well know, time is different here. I could open a door for you mere seconds after you’ve left, but that still might mean you must spend hours in the city.”

“I do not mind,” you said. “I will make good use of that time. But what has changed your mind? Why have you never offered before?”

“Something has come to the city,” she said. “I can feel it. There is a presence, or perhaps multiple presences, that can change the course of Ba Sing Se’s destiny — and, more importantly, of your family’s destiny. I am not sure, but I feel as if it is imperative that you leave, or else I will be depriving you of that destiny. And that unto itself is a fate, but not the one which you are meant to find.”

“Who are they?” you said. “These presences. How will I know that I’ve met them?”

“You won’t,” she said. “There is no way for any of us to know. Even they, themselves, may not yet be aware of it. It is just like that. You needn’t endeavor to find them; if you are meant to, you will.”

“I see,” you said, and then you leapt off of her paw, beaming up at her. “Then the only thing I will

“I hope you do,” Quynh said. “Furthermore, I hope you do not regret your decision.”

“I won’t,” you said firmly. “Thank you, Quynh.”

“It is my duty,” she said. “I am obligated to. To be sure, it is difficult, for there is always some difficulty when a mother must let her child go, but it is necessary. It is a story older than even I.”

“And this story is just as old,” you said. “That even when you let me go, I will return to you. Of my own volition, I shall return.”

“So you shall,” she said. “Go, then, Y/N. And return with as much haste as you leave, so that I may not miss you for too long.”

A new hallway formed in the walls of the cave, and without a backward glance, you walked towards it. Striding down the passage, you kept your eyes forward, knowing that if you turned around, you would see the stone closing behind you. You could not go back; it was not the nature of Quynh’s power. There was only one way to go, now that the decision had been made: forward.

All of the passages made by Quynh were the same length — barring the one behind the famed Quynh’s Door, naturally — so it was a trick of your mind that made the trek to Ba Sing Se seem longer than when you returned to your room from her den. Still, eventually, you came to another door, and your entire body shuddered in anticipation as you placed your hand on the knob, because this was the moment that you waited your entire life for.

Unable to delay for a second more, you swung the door open, taking your first step into the city of Ba Sing Se, your silk-slippered foot toeing delicately onto the cobblestones. Shutting the door behind you, you glanced over your shoulder to ascertain that it had disappeared. As you had expected, the wall was smooth and bare, giving no indication that there had ever been an exit in the first place.

There were people everywhere. You had never witnessed such a large crowd before; people milled about by the fading light of the setting sun, jostling one another as they rushed to and fro. At the fringes of the throng, two men with long torches went about lighting the street lamps, though they took their own time doing so, talking and laughing with whichever passersby that they recognized.

Another person might find the chaos to be ugly, hideous in its disorder, but you found a kind of mystical appeal to the hustle of the street. These were people who were living their lives as they were meant to, with no awareness of the simple freedoms and small joys they possessed. They gave no care to the idea that their daily lives were so remarkable to you, that their going-ons were the most wonderful thing you had ever seen.

You were too afraid to step into the sea of people, so you stayed along the sides of the road, admiring them, watching them, wanting more than anything to be one of them. But of course you were not. You would never be.

The door had spit you out near a small tea shop. It was not run down, exactly, but it was lived in, homey, the wood polished and the chairs worn. You opened the door to the establishment, but found it to be devoid of any patrons. There was only an old man behind the counter, sorting the change with toughened hands, though he looked up when he heard the bell chime announce your entrance.

“Hello, miss,” he said. “I’m afraid we are about to close for the night.”

“Oh, it’s not a problem,” you said. “I wasn’t wanting tea, anyways. I was just admiring your shop.”

“Why, thank you,” he said, grinning at you. “Though it’s not my shop, so I can’t claim to have any hand in the decor.”

“It smells so lovely,” you said. “It reminds me of a very beautiful thing, though I can’t name which.”

“Flowers?” he guessed. “Maybe a garden full of jasmine blossoms, their petals facing the moon, with a few drops of rain scattered about on their surfaces?”

“Actually, yes,” you said, amazed at his accuracy. “How did you know? That was exactly correct.”

“It’s the new blend of jasmine tea we’re brewing for tomorrow. My nephew picks the flowers himself, so that we can be sure of the condition of the jasmine before we make the tea. It’s the best way to allow the flavors to come through!” the man said.

“Wow,” you said. “I never knew there was so much thought put behind tea. I just drink it.”

“Most people don’t care enough,” the man said with a nod. “That’s what sets our tea apart. It’s only when you pay attention to the most minute details that you can ensure your final product is as close to perfection as can be found in a teacup. It’s a grave sin to think that tea begins and ends with the boiling of water; in truth, it starts when you plant seeds in the soil.”

“That makes a lot of sense,” you said. “Though I hadn’t it until now. Thank you for telling me. I shall pay more attention the next time I have tea; perhaps then I, too, will be able to understand its origins from a mere sip.”

“It takes practice,” the man said. “But no harm ever befell the man who paid attention. Or woman, in this case.”

“Of course,” you said. “But I should leave you to close. I apologize for bothering you in the first place.”

“Don’t apologize,” the man said, waving you off. “It’s always a delight to have a conversation with a willing partner.”

“The delight was mine,” you said.

“Do come again!” the man said. “Perhaps earlier in the day, though. I can serve you tea — or, better, I can make my nephew do it. I think he’s about your age, and he is wanting for friends. But don’t tell him I said that! He’s not aware of it quite yet.”

Your eyes widened at the thought. You had never met someone your own age, nor had you ever had a friend — Quynh and Kuei were your family, for better or for worse, and the servants never dared speak to you beyond the barest of formalities. So, in a way, you were alsowanting for a friend, but you could not tell the man this. Instead, you smiled slightly at him, bowing your head in gratitude.

“I should like that,” you said. “If ever I am nearby again, I will surely come.”

As the night stretched on, the streets began to empty — or was it that you were wandering further and further away from the main crossroads? Regardless, there was certainly a shift in the air, and it was only when you entered a deserted neighborhood that you realized there had been footsteps following you for quite some time now.

Turning around, you saw no one. The streets were devoid of life. The footsteps had stopped, but you could not help the nagging feeling that something was wrong.

Where was the door? It had been long enough — you should’ve been able to find it by now. You should’ve been able to go home by now. But there was no door. You were alone, and you suddenly understood why you had been forbidden from leaving the palace.

“Who goes there?” you said. “I — I am armed, so show yourself, but proceed with caution!”

“Armed?” a voice said. “Don’t fool yourself, your royal highness. Everyone knows you aren’t armed.”

“Your royal — how do you know who I am?” you called out. “Coward! You dare to hide in the shadows and hurl such insults at me?”

Your response was an enormous boulder shooting towards you. You squealed and dropped to the ground, covering your head with your hands as the boulder smashed into the wall behind you, bits of rubble raining down. There was a stinging pain on your knee, and you frowned as you realized that you had scraped it when you had initially dodged.

“What are you doing?” you said. “You will kill me! Stop it! You craven hound, I command you to stop what you are doing and face me like a man! If you cease your actions and explain yourself at once, I shan’t have you put to death. I will even pardon you of your every crime!”

Again, no response, and your heart dropped as you realized that might be his goal. What other reason would the man, who apparently knew your identity, have for attacking you? It was unfathomable, but you were reminded that it had not been so long since your father had been assassinated. Whatever sentiments had driven that attack…what if you had been wrong? What if you were, for whatever reason, the target for the next assassination?

It reminded you of a story, one you had read on the tenth anniversary of your father’s death. You thought it might comfort you, or more specifically your brother, to read the tale of another king who had been assassinated but whose reign had continued on regardless; in truth, though, only one quote had stuck with you, and this quote was neither comforting nor kind.

Sometimes, these things just happen, it had said. Kings are murdered. There isn’t always an explanation. Sometimes, the only reason is the action itself. Sometimes, people just kill for the spectacle of killing.

Maybe that was the case. Maybe you were just going to be killed for the spectacle. The show. The king’s beloved sister, murdered in his own city, the safest city in the entire world.

Right when the second boulder was about to hit you, there was a metallic sound, and then something sliced through the boulder, cutting it in half before it could reach you. When you looked up, there was a man in black standing in front of you, twin blades held in each hand, his posture confident but wary.

“Who are you?” you said. The man did not respond, scanning the area. He must’ve determined it to be safe, as abruptly, he relaxed his stance, sheathing the swords and then shifting to face you.

You could not stop yourself from yelping. Instead of a face, there was a blue mask regarding you, frozen in a grotesque grin, though when you got over your initial surprise, you realized you recognized the guise.

“The Blue Spirit?” you said. He nodded. “I’ve read the play, but I didn’t realize that you were — that you were a real being!”

The Blue Spirit was motionless in the wake of your words. Or, no, that was not correct. It was not that he was motionless, but that every part of his body was constantly shifting and changing, on high alert, so that the sum total was a man that was both ever at rest yet ever moving.

You pulled yourself to your feet, careful not to hurt yourself on the scattered stones surrounding you both, and just then, right behind you, a door appeared. You laughed ruefully at the ironic timing.

“What were you doing here, anyways?” you said. He mimed opening his hand; you did so, your palm facing the sky, though you had no idea what he planned to do with it. But he had saved you, so you thought that there was no harm in trusting him for a moment longer.

He did not do anything as dramatic as grabbing it or carving his name into it. He just dropped something into it, something soft and light and white.

Jasmine flowers. The delicate cups of the blooms were opened, seeking out the moon, and twinkling in the starlight against the silky fibers of the petals were a few drops of water — holdovers, you assumed, from the day’s rainfall.

You closed your fingers over the flowers, careful not to crush them in your fist. You did not know what they meant — an offering? A price? Something else entirely? Regardless, you knew that they were important, and you vowed to reread the story of the Blue Spirit once you returned home, so that you could understand their significance.

“Thank you,” you said. “For the flowers, and also for rescuing me. If we should ever meet again, then I will thank you in a better way, but for now, I have to go. The longer I linger here, the more danger the two of us are put in.”

Opening the door, you took a step in, but before you closed it, you looked over your shoulder, back at where the Blue Spirit had stood. That strange person…you owed him your life. The least you could do was look back at him, afford him a final glance before you sealed yourself away entirely.

When you turned, though, he was already gone. The only proof that he had ever been there in the first place was the flowers in your hand, the pluming dust in the air, and the heart which steadily beat in your chest — that beat which meant you were still alive, at least for now.

You did not stand there and mourn his absence. Allowing the door to swing shut and the passageway to close behind you, you began to walk home.

taglist (comment/send an ask/dm to be added): @rinisfruity14 @c4ttheart

#zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #zuko #avatar the last airbender #atla #reader insert #canon au #the glass princess #m1ckeyb3rry writes

181 notes · View notes

naffeclipse · 1 month

Note

Now I'm invested in the monster bf OCs AHAHAH like Hawthorn sounds like such a cutie !!! Also a mothman hello?? 😍 ( I kinda lowkey wanna draw him even tho I'm not well versed in drawing monster-esque characters 🤣✨ )

May I ask about how they'd all give affectionate gifts to MC? Any way shape or form to tell MC they love them and stuff 🥹💕 thanks in advance 🙏🏻

AH THANK YOU! I'm glad you like Hawthorn, he is such a cutie!! Ohhh, if you did, I'd love to see it! I need to get some refs commissioned for the monster boys but that's gonna have to wait a minute due to school starting soon for me ;-;

Hawthorn has a plethora of natural gifts for MC and he painstakingly takes the time to find the right beauties to present to his darling human. He sets spiral snail shells into MC's palm and tucks feathers from beautiful birds into MC's hair. Mostly, he brings flowers. He's a bit of a sap like that when he swoops down and stands before MC, all endearing, and quietly telling MC to take the bouquet of pink, blue, and yellow wildflowers that he spent the entire day collecting with little twigs and shrub leaves. He really hopes MC enjoys each and every gift. He puts a lot of thought into them. He just wants to see a pleased smile and a little bit of a twinkle in MC's beautiful eyes.

Grease isn't great at gifts but when he does have something to give, he bewilders poor MC with his offerings. A shiny ring that doesn't fit on MC's finger. An antique wristwatch with a cracked face. Once, a phone that clearly belonging to someone else. Misplaced valuables. MC grills Grease until he confesses that he finds most of his 'gifts' while he's going after fresh victims to feed on. MC tells him to stop stealing. Grease gets grumpy about it but he does turn to dumpster diving and finding little treasures tossed away along the side of the road. The things he does for MC.

Calmo doesn't have a way to give gifts like the other boys. He lives in MC's house and refuses to leave the safety of its walls. He figures out how to order items off of the internet but doing so costs money, and he's not going to dip into MC's bank account to supply MC with a gift. That would be meaningless. Instead, he turns to learning how to do human things, like cooking, dancing, and immersing himself in MC's interests. He gives MC a fresh, home-cooked meal after the end of a long shift at the diner. When MC's favorite song comes on, slow and romantic, he takes MC by the hand and softly spins with his dance partner around the room. A new book comes out that MC loves and Calmo ensures he reads it when MC is not home so they might exchange thoughts about the text later. MC doesn't realize they're gifts, but MC seems happy.

#starriegalaxy #naff ocs #i have a name for this particular story but I'm gonna wait a second before properly tagging it #wanna present a little something first

49 notes · View notes

vimara00 · 2 years

Note

just passing by, what if our dearest darling reader finally got to escape from the hold of the "bad" yandere men but you know, felt life is a little lacking without her yandere shigaraki and finally understood why she should had just stayed with him instead of trying to refuse plus she knows that shigaraki loves her and he is alone so she worries for him so... now reader will have to crawl back from where she came from explain it to him and tell him how much she love him.

I didn't know you were from Argentina that's amazing

- Anon 04-04

Yandere Shigaraki x Reader

Hi everyone, it's Vi! ✨ I received this request from an anon and thought it was a great idea to write about it! Thanks anon for requesting 💕 Hope you enjoy! ❤️ (Again, sorry if there are any grammatical mistakes, english is not my first language 🙏🏻)

All characters reservations to Horikoshi

Warnings: Yandere content and fluff?

It's been three months since I ran away from Shigaraki's hold. I had been with him for seven months till I saw the chance to scape when the league had a meeting with other villains. At first I thought that I could go back to my old life but the chances of Shigaraki finding me again were too high so I moved to another city and kept a low profile. I didn't asked for the heroes' help as I knew the villain would killed them if I did.

The fist week I enjoyed my freedom to the fullest; I went to the park for walks, went to the cinema or to eat alone at restaurants. However, there were times where I found myself thinking "He would've enjoyed this movie" or "He would've loved this certain place" and, as the days passed, it felt strange not to have him around. On Fridays, we would order take out and watch romantic animes he didn't like but watched just because I liked it and I would end up falling asleep on his arms. Since escaping, I couldn't fall asleep without him so, in order to sleep, all I could do was grabbing a pillow and pretending it was him who I was spooning. Also, every morning I would prepared breakfast for two without realising and a sense of sadness would invaded me each time. I didn't know what to do anymore as I find everything boring; Was life before him this dull? Could it be that he made my days more interesting? It made me really angry that I missed him more every day after hoping to scape from his place for seven months and thinking about going back to his arms made me feel some kind of relieved. However, I stopped those thoughts before I grabbed my keys and leave because It probably was the stockholm syndrome talking and definitely not her being in love with him.

On particular day, I went to the store to buy something to eat and the cashier asked me out. I felt so lonely without Shigaraki that I thought it was a good idea to try to move on and find a reason to stay. So the next day, he took me to an arcade where he tried to win all the stuff animals but couldn't get any and we had ice cream sat on a bench while looking at the stars. It was supposed to be a romantic and intimate moment but, with all honesty, all I could think was how my Shiggy would've won all the prizes just for me and how I really wished it was him next to me watching the sky and not this poor guy who has been talking for fifteen minutes but I wasn't listening. He even took my hand on the way home but it wasn't the same; It wasn't Tomura's rough hand grabbing mine delicately with his pinky finger lift to not decay me. It weren't his lips whose kissed my cheek because if it were his, my cheeks would be blushing like they always do when he kisses me. I entered my house (it didn't felt right to call it home without him in it), alone, and went to find an old Tomura's t shirt (the one I scaped with on) and cry with it in my bedroom floor. I was hard to admit that I missed him but even harder not to be with him. That night, I cryed myself to sleep

My final straw was when, the next morning, I saw on the news that the league's hideout had been attacked by the heroes and apparently, Shigaraki had fought with them but his whereas remain unknown. Tears where rolling down my face without realising. I was so worried yet so scared that something bad had happened to him and I wasn't by his side. What if he died believing I didn't loved him and that I left him for it? I won't be able to live with that thought. I had to find him and make sure he was alright. I needed to tell him what I felt before it was too late.

It was hard to find their location but thanks to Toga answering my phone call, I did. I stood at the door unable to move as my thoughts were running wild and field me with insecurity. What if it was too late and he doesn't love me anymore? What if he is mad at me and wants revenge? Would he want to take me back after all this time? But all of it was interrupted as I was already opening the door. Some of the league members that had survive were hiding here and once I entered, everything got quiet. Horrified looks from everyone in the room but I'm only looking at him (Sorry, I had to put this phrase from Taylor's song hehe), he looked like he haven't been sleeping or eating at all and had many new scars. His eyes were locked in mines and he told everyone to get lost as he needed privacy. The room was silent again and before he could say anything, I said " I know you are probably mad at me and don't want to see me anymore but hear me out first. I need to tell you the truth! All this months I thought I wanted my old life back and that I missed it but once I got it, it was not what I was expecting because I felt that something was missing and that something was you. At first, I didn't want to admit that I cared about you but I realized that life without you had not meaning and if to have freedom I need to be away from you, then I don't want it. I want to be with you but not obliged this time, I want to do it because I love you" At this point my face was on fire and my eyes field with tears but so were Tomura's. He hugged me tight as if he was scared that I would disappear again, kissed my temple and whispered "I was so scared, thought you wouldn't come back to me. I know I'm not the best with words and defenitly not with emotions, but I want to say that I love you and I promise to never let go of you. I promise I'll protect you and to make you happy, just please stay with me" his voice break at the end as he cupped my cheeks tenderly and kissed me with so much love and affection. We stayed hugging each other for a while as I said "I would never leave you ever again"

While you thought you were so capable of scaping and "hiding" from him, he had already known your new location and even had cameras inside your new apartment. He had people following you, telling him what you were doing and remember the guy you went on a date with? Well, he has vanished from earth, Shigaraki made sure of it. He have you time to realised how much you need him and if you happened to enjoy your life without, he would've made sure you never see the sunlight as he'll keep you locked in his room. But you'll never know any of that.

187 notes · View notes

l2vedive · 2 years

Text

I LOVE YOU (SJY).

PAIRING: sim jaeyun/jake x fem!reader

GENRES: includes smut (minors dni), heavy angst, hurt no comfort, slowburn, one sided pining, fluff at the end, friends with benefits, classic communication issues trope, university au

WARNINGS: smut, profanity, making out, implied alcohol use, smoking, semi graphic descriptions of smut (fingering, thigh riding, handjobs, cunnilingus, slapping), one line for dirty talk, reader calls jake baby a lot, name calling (bitch and whore directed at someone), jake constantly gets played, made up female character, jake is hopelessly in love with reader (pls get up), reader is a walking red flag invented by park jaeeon, cheating if you squint, one sexual joke lol, other idols have guest appearances (yeonjun of txt, isa / chaeyoung of stayc, mentions karina of aespa), heeseung doesn't talk much i apologise 🙏🏻

SYNOPSIS: in which yn and jake are in a friends with benefits situation. sort of.

WORD COUNT: 9320 words.

PLAYLIST: here.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: aaaand it's finally here !!!! this was originally written for itzy which is still published on my ao3 acc , however , i decided to rewrite it for enhypen to get over my writer's block rhksjdjed . i hope you enjoy it regardless <33 the dialogue jake says in june is from richard siken's masterpiece "crush", which i suggest you read because it is a very good book. jake stans this one's for you !!! :DD

TAGLIST: @help-i-cant-find-a-username @cherrybxmbby @woozisnoots @fairyofhee @asyleums @cha0thicpisces @aliensrme @enhygene-phen @slut-4-jake @princesjy @axartia

It's September when the papers on the desk slide down to the floorboards: the steel painted blue table is cold against your skin, almost burning you with intensity until Jake pulls you back up to his mouth by your hair, and has you pressed up on the wall just by his bedroom door. Jake's tongue smoothes over the fresh set of hickeys on the nape of your neck, your collarbone, your tits, and your chest bursts with fire with every touch and feel. It gets hotter when he hears the needy whines coming from you and, Oh my god, Jake thinks. I need to kiss her. I need to. Your jeans, that you never got to take off completely, are tangled by your feet and your thoughts stop when Jake slips another finger in, curling it just right.

"Fuck," You glance at the window over at Jake's shoulder, the light of your computer reflecting on the pane as the clock hits 12:00 AM.

"Hm?" Jake hums against you and it sends vibrations throughout your body, enough for him to hit the spot.

"Happy two years, pretty." Jake mumbles when he finally pulls away and puts his fingers in your mouth. The sight alone is enough for him to feel hot and bothered all over again as you suck off the boy's fingers. Jake smiles through his plump lips, smeared by your leftover lip gloss from when you kissed him earlier.

You hop on the beans of your toes as you get your jeans back up. Your bra's still hanging onto one shoulder and your shirt is nowhere to be found. The hickeys on your neck are still fresh and sore, forming hues of purple. Jake hands you his shirt instead. For you to wear and for you to take home to wear. (He sort of hopes you sleep in it too. Hopes you think of him before going to bed.).

You pop a cigarette in your mouth and he lights it up for you, leaning in close. His skin burns as the flame meets the hilt of his thumb and his heart sort of aches when you immediately soothe it with a kiss.

"Happy two years, Jaeyun," You say casually. "Do you have a wish this year?"

"None that I can think of," Jake replies. You watch, blowing smoke as he attempts to shrug a new set of clothes back on, running his hand through his disheveled hair. Out of habit, he moves to brush the strands of hair that might poke your eyes away before tucking it behind your ear delicately.

Jake loves you. Despite that this is always how it goes and not just everytime you celebrate your "friendship" anniversary.

Because with you this is always how it goes.

"Yeah, same," You say. Your eyes are dark and they're focused, playing into his. He knows. For as long as Jake has known you, you've always had one. And it is always a secret.

You always ask him first. So that when it's your turn to be asked, you can pretend. You can say no and end it there. Because that is always how it goes with you. You've got a habit of keeping skeletons in the closet even with your best friend.

But Jake isn't stupid. He always knows what you're up to. It's in the way of how you carry yourself after every fuck, how your eyes seem to lower and darken, how you don't fix up your hair neatly like you always do for school every morning, letting it fall just like that.

(He thinks you're setting up a metaphor for it. Like, you have this prim and perfect picture exterior to outsiders but when night falls, he gets the real you: unpredictable, messy, needy, full of want and unashamed to say it.).

Jake always knows.

He wonders if this is why you don't say anything. Jake wonders if this is why you always seem to hide from him, despite being friends since forever. He wonders why you look at him in ways he knows that would make him feel things, why you're picking up his shirt, helping him put it on, and giving him an open-mouthed kiss before walking out.

The bitter aftertaste settles on his tongue. "Please stay," Jake says. "I love you."

Instead, you hear it as, "Don't smoke and drive."

ii.

It's October and Jake doesn't dress up for Halloween.

But you do, and you are undeniably hot in a skimpy impractical security officer uniform, with a devastating amount of cleavage that Jake wants his mouth on.

Jake had never really planned on going tonight, but he kind of had to, because all his friends were going and you were definitely going. He really wished he hadn't though. His friends are long gone, flirting with the other partygoers left and right, and by the time he has reached the bathroom to pee, he could hear obnoxious loud moans.

He is considering going home and slipping into his bed to watch a movie until you emerge from the crowd of people, looking pretty, hot and sexy as hell. Do not fucking look at her.

But it's no use because you're walking towards him with a devilish smirk tugging on your lips. "Hey, Jae," you say. "C'mere." You smell like fruit punch and alcohol and you're too close for Jake to be at ease.

You promptly push Jake onto the couch, plopping yourself onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, your legs on either side of Jake's. It's hot in the room all of a sudden and Jake's breath hitches in his throat.

You're in public. Where people could see you. You never do anything sexual in public.

"YN," Jake starts. "What are you doing?" His brow furrows, obviously confused.

"Shut up," Your breath is in Jake's ear and it's warm and tingly and enough for the hairs behind his neck to stand. For his cock to twitch in his jeans. Jake finds that his hands are gripping your ass.

Jake moves his head away to look around the room before looking back into your eyes. You have contact lenses on and he feels like falling into it. But he knows that by the time he has, when you approach him on campus tomorrow, you won't remember anything. It's blue and it's powerful and it's pulling him in. He thinks blue suits you. His favourite colour with his favourite girl.

Despite his hazy view of you on top, Jake is about to stop you and ask what you mean until you lace a fistful of his hair in your hands behind his neck and kiss him.

And even though you've kissed a lot, this was extremely different. For so many reasons.

For one, oh my god. You are on his lap, half-naked with your ass in his hands and your tits pressed up close, and Jake actually prays his boner doesn't build up a tent through his jeans. Second, you're in public. And third, you never had sex in public. At least not with him. But now he gets to feel the experience of doing so in your kiss. You are so good. You are so fucking good . Jake knows that you know what you're doing with every soft bite on his bottom lip, every flick and suck of your tongue dancing with his, every moan devoured by him.

He's not so bad himself and he knows it too. You taught him how.

You aren't finished when you start grinding your hips against him and Jake fights every bone in his body to move with you. "Fuck, YN," And it comes out as a hiss rather than a warning. You were too good . Too addicting .

It's even harder when he feels your hand fall back and in between you both, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, palming him through his boxers. "Come on, Jake," You say, but Jake feels like you're pushing him rather than asking. "Do you want this or not?"

So Jake lets you. For a second until he pulls away and is out of breath. His heart hammers inside of his chest and he's quick enough to get ahold of your hand, stopping you.

He moves to get up, pushing you off of his lap and embarrassingly, you stagger on your heels before falling on the couch. You don't say anything. And even though he's confused, you know he's pissed. You are too.

"I don't always want to fuck you, YN,"

"You're so boring," You say.

"And you're drunk," Jake replies, straightening his posture. Because when you got drunk, you were out like a mad woman. Between the two of you, he was the lightweight and that was actually how the two of you became friends; he was sure he could keep up with you the moment Heeseung had introduced the both of you to each other at his last house party, immediately taking an interest in you. Long story short, he liked you and you liked having him for company, and it just snowballed from there.

But for now, his mind is racing and his clothes suddenly feel tight on him—and no, it's not because of his boner—worse, his throat almost chokes up when he hears: "I'm sober."

"I don't care," I do. I care so much. "I can't let you do this."

Suddenly, you get up, your faces in close proximity. Jake feels like it’s just the two of you in the room and if that were the case, he would've already screwed you all over the couch himself.

"You want to fuck me, Jake," You say lowly. Your face is stone cold and it almost feels like you're challenging him. (You are.). "I know you do."

Jake shakes his head. He looks at you and swallows. You almost allow yourself to break down all your walls for him with the way he's staring at you.

"Come on, Jaeyunie," You press, the cute tone hanging off the nickname you give him. "I know you want to." You giggle as you curl your finger around one of his belt loops, tugging him closer.

Your voice knocks him out of his windpipe and it's enough for him to know that he's failed from holding himself back. From getting mad at you.

"I do," Jake manages. "I love you, let's stop this. Let's go home."

But he says it like this: "No, I can’t do this tonight." And turns away, disappearing into the crowd.

iii.

It's November and it's raining.

You're all gathered around your living room, watching a horror movie that Jake knows he won't be paying attention to.

It's dark with all the lights off and it's creepier with the faint sounds of raindrops hitting the backyard's porch. There are only two sources of light, however. One from the television where Scream plays and another is from Jake's dimly lit side where you seemed to be texting under the blankets propped over the both of you.

It's quiet most of the time, except for the occasional bickering from Sunoo, who teases Jay for his reactions, and you look bored throughout the film. Jake is, too.

He is about to lean over and make a funny comment about the scene that was currently rolling on screen but he catches a glimpse of your screen and immediately, he feels guilty for looking. Because right there on your screen are messages between you and god knows who, and a picture of you almost topless.

And suddenly, you excuse yourself, phone in your hand before heading down the hallway to the bathroom. Jake doesn’t move, wondering if you knew he was looking. Instead, he waits and settles that you probably had an emergency to take care of.

It's been fifteen minutes and Jake grows worried. By now, almost everyone has fallen asleep and you still haven't gotten back from the bathroom.

Quietly, Jake tiptoes away from his position and instantly jogs down to the bathroom. It's silent and his heartbeat is loud in his ears; he's not sure why he's nervous. "YN?" He calls out. Nothing.

To his surprise, there's no one inside and the door is unlocked for her to look. It's empty and Jake swallows thickly. Once, twice and third is the hardest as he starts to panic. Where did you go?

Immediately, Jake heads upstairs to search for you in one of the rooms. He heads to yours first and it's locked. "YN?" He questions, knocking on the door. He can hear shuffling and movements, and Jake doesn't know what to think of.

"YN!" He raises his voice slightly, afraid not to wake the others up as he slams his hand against the door. No oxygen. No oxygen. It’s heavy, he's aching, his heart is a mess. Breathe, Jaeyun. Breathe . Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Breathe, Jaeyun. Fucking breathe.

The door swings open and he sees you half-naked in bed. In front of you, is Heeseung shuffling to get his pants up. Jake's eyes dart back and forth and the older boy slides behind him.

You say nothing at all as you sit up and put your hoodie back on.

"Hey, man," Heeseung says, but it comes out as a question. "I actually have to be somewhere else right now. See you, Jake." He's gone before Jake could reply.

Frozen, Jake doesn't say anything. It takes him a moment to process what just happened.

"I—," He starts. There is so much that he wants to say but nothing comes up. He feels dizzy almost and his nail beds are bloodied from piercing them into his skin. He releases when he feels your lips on his.

Your lips are soft and it's sweet, and it's nothing he's used to. He's so confused, god, you were so confusing. "I'm sorry," Jake blurts out, because nevertheless, he still loves you. So much.

"Don't be sorry, baby," You say fondly. "You got me." But I don't , Jake thinks . I don't get you. I can never have you.

His eyes are closed when he allows you to kiss him. To touch him so softly and whisper sweet nothings that he knows he'll never stop thinking about when he pictures your hand as his own when he gets himself off at night.

Jake knows that his friendship with you is unusual. You both know it. You turn up every day if you can, allow him to finger you until you're crying and writhing your hips, let him use your mouth on his cock in return until his entire body is rattling with aftershocks by the time he comes. You seem to get whatever you seem to want from him, and stupidly so, Jake allows you.

He loves you. And you hate him. He knows you do.

Jake breathes hard, and he's kind of embarrassed by how easy it is of him to completely melt under your touch. How easy it is for him to get turned on until he gets so primal, lust clouding his head and pulsing his veins. He suddenly realises your positions have switched as his back hits the duvet and he's tangling his hands into your hair, hands brushing down to tilt your chin and have you look at him in the eyes.

You giggle and teasingly untie the laces of his sweatpants, brushing your fingers softly near the areas Jake wants your hand to touch and more, trailing a teasing path that only makes him needier and harder than he already is. Your hand travels down his abdomen, carefully advancing its way into his boxers as you begin to pump his cock. Hot and spilling with pre-cum in the middle of his hips.

"Please kiss me again," He chokes out. "Kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me like you love me, even if it's just for tonight."

You hear it as: "Fuck, YN. Keep going, please."

It's chaos .

iv.

It's December and you have a boyfriend. And it's every December, every year that you have a boyfriend.

Jake is trying to busy himself with the nape of your neck and the way he breathes fans in your hair like he's tired. He is so tired.

You recognise it and kiss him more intensely, shoving him against the car window. Jake feels it and draws back, the taste of your cherry flavoured lip gloss lingering in his mouth, weighted on his tongue like a stray "I love you" caught between his teeth. You attempt to get Jake back into your hold, your hand sneaking underneath his hoodie, but Jake opens his eyes.

"Come on, Jaeyunie, we only have tonight."

"I don't want to do this anymore." Jake says.

You constantly keep the air conditioner on full throttle and never care about anybody else, except when you take what you want from them, and Jake is so fucking sick of it. You are self-centred and a cunt, and it takes it all out of him to not push you away again when you come leaning forwards, kissing him everywhere and pulling his hoodie up. Selfish, insistent, oblivious, insensitive.

"Can you stop?" Jake says, scooting back to the seat. "I'm so tired of this."

The car engine revs up and the lights flash for a second, igniting color into the dark neighbourhood. You hesitantly step on the gas pedal. "What's wrong, Jake?"

"I'm right here, always," Jake says. "I'm right fucking here, in front of you, next to you, and yet you don't see it. You never think of anyone else, YN. It's always about you."

You drum your fingers against the steering wheel and switch on your turn signal. There's another cigarette hanging on your lips. You drive down the lane and into the main road. You're going to drive in circles and it's a perfectly sick metaphor. (Another one to add in Jake's book.).

When the green lights come on, you pull slowly with the brakes and come to a dead stop at the yellow lights, constantly waiting for the red lights and stop signs so you can reach over the armrest and kiss him again.

"You know that's not true, baby."

"Stop that," Jake reprimands. "You know it is."

You take a drag and exhale out the smoke, not bothering to roll down the windows. You glance behind him in the street among the smoke and briskly pull over. "What the fuck is your problem today?" you ask, turning to him.

"Forget about it." Jake says. His skin stings where you've bruised him with your teeth. Where you've touched him. Where he pretends to say it hurts when he's screwing other girls so they won't touch him there. Won't touch him where you've marked him. He feels sick.

"Do you want to talk or are you going to leave?" You shuffle, rolling down the window and throwing out your cigarette. You're angry, Jake can see it.

"Do you have feelings for him?" Jake finally says. His voice embarrassingly breaks in reaction to the question, making him want to leave, walk away, throw up, and cry. You've barely made it back to the block.

You sigh, running your fingers through your hair. "Fucking hell."

"Just answer the question, YN." Jake replies.

"Of course, he's my boyfriend. You're my friend."

"Yeah, no shit, I am!" Jake says a little too loudly, sitting up and staring up at the mirror he's pulled down earlier. He's laughing and it's sour when he says: "God, you weren't kidding when you said you had an amazing sense of humour, were you?"

"Get out." You say. Your voice is so low Jake doesn't recognise you.

Jake pales and he's as white as your knuckles, grip tight on the steering wheel. "What?"

"You heard me, Jake. Get out of my car."

Jake reaches over for a kiss, trying to get you to kiss him again and forget about it. Trying to get you to fuck him over, and all over just like how he does when he fucks you until you both can’t think of anything other than each other's names.

You nod your head. "I gave you two choices. You chose this."

"No, I chose you," Jake seethes, suddenly angry. "I always, always fucking choose you."

"It's not like I asked you to." You snap, closing your eyes. You're too defeated, too tired of Jake's antics.

Heartbeat ringing in his ears, Jake falls back down on his seat. "You're unbelievable," He says. "I can't believe you."

You say nothing at all. It's quiet and it's too long until you turn the car off.

Jake stares at the road ahead of you. "I love you, I didn't mean it," he says.

He says it in this way: he puts his hoodie back on, pulls on the lock and pushes the door open, he gets out and slams it closed.

He cries the whole walk home.

It's still December when you're sprawled all over Chaeyoung's bed, watching the other girl type away her essay due upside down.

"You know, YN, someone called me baby the other day,"

You hum in response. "Yeah?" You ask, sitting up and lying on her stomach. "Who was it?"

"Some boy I kissed at Jimin-unnie's Christmas party."

The Christmas party in question is nothing special, just a gathering of friends at Yoo Jimin's place, at least that's what you remember Jake telling you over the phone. Jimin's Christmas parties were a hit and you knew how crazy it usually went. Her Halloween party that you attended last month too (the same one where you and Jake had a confrontation, the one that you remember, the one that always replays at the back of your head), proved how truly popular the girl was.

Parties were usually your setting. You hung out with most of the popular crowds for this reason. You liked going out, dressing up and having the adrenaline rush kick in your body's system as the loud music booms in your ears and colourful lights wash over you and a bunch of other dancing bodies. You lied to Jake on the phone, laying out those reasons for your shitty excuse not to go. Besides, you weren't really interested in partying and dancing after what happened that night with him. You learn from Sunoo the next day that Jake didn't go either.

"Well," You start. "Jake calls me baby too." You say it like it's nothing and Chaeyoung immediately turns around.

Chaeyoung looks like she's choking down a laugh until she realises you're not following it up with something else. "Like, as a joke right?"

You stop drawing invisible stars on the girl's bed sheets, delaying a response. "Jake calls me baby. Only he calls me that," Your voice lowers down to a whisper, so fragile that it breaks. (A crack in the walls.). "I do too. When we're fucking around."

Chaeyoung blinks at you. "But you're his friend."

"I am. We're friends," You reply, sighing. "I know that."

"Well, if one of you likes the other—I'm assuming it's the both of you , by the way," Chaeyoung hesitates with the way you're blatantly staring at her. "Why won't either of you say anything about it?"

"Because I can't do that. We're strictly friends. You know me, Chae, I can't just change what we have. It's a bit more complicated than that." You're frustrated and you know you have no right to be for the way you've treated him. For the way you're still treating him. It's not complicated, you think. He's a teenage boy and you're a girl.

You're LN YN.

You always had things figured out.

Girls are always supposed to have the upperhand with these kinds of things. You learned this the hard way when Chaeyoung had called you during graduation night in high school when she had let her guard down and had a boy shatter her. You’ve always been protective of her; the same kind of energy had channelled into the way you’ve had your situationships, never spilling more than you let on.

You sit in silence for a few more seconds and Chaeyoung clears her throat, saying she has to get back to her work. Before you allow her to continue, you say: "I'll say it. I'll tell him I love him too."

You pronounce it as, "I'll be off. Good luck on your assignment, take a break when you can." before getting your stuff, heading out the door and downstairs, and finally leaving.

It's January when Jake opens the front door and sees that you're parked on his driveway, leaning against your car. You both stay a good ten feet away from each other until you say: "Happy New Year, baby."

And Jake smiles, falling in love all over again, feeling ecstatic with the sudden rush of euphoria in his body. It's the summer-like smile, warm and nice, that shows you're being sincere. You walk over to him and tug him down by balling his white shirt into your fist, kissing him and smiling.

"YN," Jake says. There's an edge in his voice that makes him feel unsure, despite wanting you then and there. "People can see us. We're in public."

The smile on your face widens and it makes Jake's heart hurt. God, she is so beautiful.

"Let them see. I don't care." You kiss and kiss, Jake pulling firmly on your shirt (his shirt) until you push yourself onto him and he walks you backwards into the house. Jake manages to kick the door shut with his shoe, mouth still on you as he drives you to the edge.

"Jake," You say as he runs his hands up your back, clutching you close to his chest. His heart. His face, pressed into the comforting skin between your neck and collarbone.

"Yeah," He says, more like a sigh.

You don't remember what you were going to say. " Shit , Jake, I—,”

Jake has his thigh locked in between your legs, pressing onto your core. The scene between you two is prodded perfectly against his warm skin. You can't think. You can't think at all.

Jake feels you grinding your hips up and down, rubbing your clothed cunt excruciatingly slow on his thigh and right over his crotch which earns him a mewl from you. Your eyes are closed, and your fingers have found its way under his shirt, nails clawing into his back.

"Jesus Christ, YN ."

Your eyes flutter slowly, and you see Jake appearing more flustered than you've previously seen him. His eyes are filled with astounding desire. "Shut up and kiss me," You say.

And because Jake loves you, he does. Over and over and over again.

vi.

It’s February and there are roses and pink balloons everywhere. It's Valentines' Day.

There are couples kissing and holding hands in the hallway and all Jake can do is lean by his locker and watch. But not in a creepy, stalkerish way, in a way that he sort of pictures you and him like that, and pretend that you both could be like normal people and have a normal relationship.

He's about to turn away when he sees you. You, hand in hand, with your boyfriend, Lee Heeseung. His best friend.

You walk right past him, not batting an eye at him; not even a smile. Because this is always how it goes. It's always like this with you.

You were expressionless yet Jake could see right through the façade, and he knows that the reason why you never look at him is because the moment you do, you lose.

Jake prays to his lucky stars that you do. Because he loves you. God , does he love you. He always will.

It's still February. It's raining again.

You're over.

You've been over a lot recently, every other day, every Friday. Not to fuck though, which Jake finds weird. Usually, you only ever come over to: A) Fuck each other's brains out and have him fuck you until you're sore in all places, and B) Make him cry; whether the context is him hopelessly trying to get you to fall for him or to abruptly leave to "have to be somewhere else", knowing you say it like that to try and not to hurt his feelings. Jake never knows. You only ever come over for your sexual arrangements and nothing more.

He prompts himself to think nothing of it, taking it as a good, little surprise for himself, and asks you if you wanted to do anything specific.

"It's your house," You say casually, sliding your phone into your back pocket. "Do you wanna do anything tonight?"

Jake stares at you, reading your face and looks for any signs that show disinterest. You smile, warm and tingly that it's fuzzy in Jake's stomach, as if to let him know that you'll stay regardless.

Another surprise: you make an effort and allow him to make an offer without implying a second.

Jake declares tonight is different and asks you if you want to watch a movie, to which you respond "yes" before suggesting that you head to Jake's bedroom once the movie ends.

So tonight is different, indeed. Tonight he has you cuddled up to one of his plushies on the couch with five metres to spare as Patch Adams plays on the screen. You're not touching, in any way, because you intricately hold yourself off from Jake unless it's in a state of undress, positioning your bodies so that non-sexual contact is non-existent.

It hurts only a little.

You both are friends but that is never how it is between you and him. Truthfully, it hurts.

Halfway through the movie, you have fallen asleep while Jake stays awake to finish as he watches Patch graduate to receive his Doctor of Medicine and bow to his professors and the audience. Occasionally, his eyes dart over to you, whose breathing is quiet and beautiful as your chest rises and falls with your hair sprawled messily on the pillows.

He wants to reach out, hold your hand, touch you, and fit into the perfectly good space between the two of you and lay his head on your shoulder, because, logically speaking, you have had your tongue on his dick and Jake has reciprocated with his on the apex of your clit, and you've seen each other naked countless of times, and all of your fingers have mapped out the pleasures of the others' genitals, but it doesn't work that way.

Jake knows it. For a long time, since the day he has agreed to this illicit affair that you have proposed, he has.

But you're right there, asleep next to him, and the love bite on your collarbone isn't from him, so there’s no point in keeping score.

Jake falls asleep a little later, the words, "Please love me like I do with you," on his lips.

In the morning, it comes off as him cooking breakfast for the two of them and you walking up to him to give him a kiss. You both know where this is going and he lets it happen.

vii.

It's March, and you're over again.

Mostly for good things.

You sometimes do homework together, cook dinner and breakfast together, depending if you stay over, watch Netflix when there's nothing tolerable on the television, and talk about other things that aren't about asking if the other could cum or not.

Jake isn't used to this, but it is something he could get used to. A few weeks ago and years before that, there were rules, obvious rules that you had laid out right from the start.

You still have sex. Just not all the time. It's every Friday that you plan out all the things for you to do other than sex. It's every Friday that you're over at Jake's house to do couple-y stuff and it makes Jake laugh. She has a boyfriend , he reminds himself. You're just a friend. His feelings don't matter to you.

Sometimes Jake wonders if you only ever see him as somebody to screw, nothing more than a fuckbuddy , telling him you're friends just to keep him around. He's not delusional, of course. He could be if he wanted to, or tried, but he also knows that you can't love him like he does and that's okay.

So right now, you're sitting by the kitchen counter, working on some English assignment. There isn't a lot of work going on, to be honest. You've been playing footsie under the table for the past hour, smiling until your cheeks are rosy and until eye smiles have come out of hiding.

It stops when Jake's phone vibrates to the tune of his ringtone, the default iPhone melody; it's distracting and he has no choice but to take it.

"Hello?" He asks into the phone.

You watch as Jake goes from unsure, nail biting, eyes darting to you for approval of some sort, and finally away to lips parted slightly, blush cheeks and bright smiles.

"I guess, I'll see you then." Jake says, tapping his nails on his textbook. He lets out a laugh before ending.

You don't skip a beat. "Who was that?"

"Jiyoon from—, "

"Dance? Yeah, I know her. She’s a bitch."

"She's pretty chill." Jake replies, eyes squinting as he fixates on the polaroid taped on the wall above his desk.

"Is she really?" You say. You haven't looked away, not once, and it makes Jake slightly nervous.

"Well, how do you know she's a bitch?" Jake quips. "She's actually nice, you know. She hugs me whenever she says hi."

You snort. "That's because she likes you, Jake. Like, romantically."

"What is going on with you?" Jake gets straight to the point. Whether you know it or not, he did notice all the staring from when he was on the phone. It's sort of pissing him off that you're getting so hostile about it when you literally have a boyfriend of your own.

"You're going to her stupid party then, aren't you?" You ask. By now, you've turned your chair to the side, your leg crossing over the other and closing your notes to talk.

"She invited me, of course,"

"And how do you know her?"

Jake laughs. He laughs because you're being ridiculous. He feels like he's sitting for interrogation by his older brother after he caught him coming back home at the dead of night at 3 am once.

"She lives on the next block, YN. We were friends in high school. She's nice to me and she's a good person." Jake shifts in his seat to return to his assignment, hoping you would drop it.

But you aren't finished. Jake can feel you burning holes in your head and the intense clicking from your pen is slowly getting to him.

You're asking too many questions: "Have you seen her?" , "Don't you know that she almost broke my leg during practice because she wanted the center position?" , "Do you really want to go?" Shut up. Shut up. Shut up . Each of them, and he knows you're only doing it to get to him.

And finally: "Are you going with her because you want to know what else she's good at, Jake?"

"Can't you just," Jake harshly slides his chair back, the steel leg screeches against the tiles of his marble floor. "Can't you just leave it alone?"

When he looks up, you're sitting up with your thighs pressed together, hands by your sides as you lean forwards inquisitively. Eyes mirroring each other, Jake stares you down.

"Don't fucking do this to me, YN," His hand curls into a fist, the corner of the notebook page crumpled under his touch. "You've got a boyfriend, don't you? Stop putting your nose in my business."

"It's my business too," You stand, towering over him, your palm flat on the surface of the table while the other rests on the arm of his chair. Your faces, just a few inches away. You breathe hard, your hand curls into a tight fist to keep you from losing it. The paper almost tears apart just by the way you've scrunched it.

(Your walls begin to crumble.).

You can feel Jake's heavy breaths, chest heaving at you, and your heart picks up its pace when his eyes fall on your lips.

"Baby," You start. You can hear his heartbeat racing. Your cells are going insane, screaming at you to kiss him. To touch him. To tell him. But you can’t do that; not when you've already done enough damage to ruin each other. Done enough to ruin him. "Jaeyun. Jake."

"I love you." Jake finally says, his voice barely above whisper.

To you, you hear it as: "We're done studying tonight. Go home, YN." So you do.

He breaks a few minutes later after you leave, locked in his bedroom, crying into his pillows.

viii.

It's April and it's the party.

Jake regrets going.

He's with Jiyoon, who hasn't gone a single minute without trying to impress him. It's nice and he appreciates it, but she’s trying so hard that it's almost embarrassing. But whatever, it's fun. Her party is fun and he tries to forget about her constantly acting cute to enjoy himself. He isn't trying to be an asshole but he always found it uncomfortable when girls around him do not understand the concept of boundaries, which is kind of hypocritical of him to think about because there is absolutely none of that when it comes to the both of you.

It doesn’t really bother him that she's sort of stiff with her dancing, but the music is good and easy to settle in a groove, so he lets her guide him to the makeshift dance floor where he thinks he can see you pressing up to Heeseung and tries not to look your way, trying not to get his heart broken again.

It doesn’t bother him.

He ends up indulging in five more cups of pineapple mimosas and a last minute glass of vodka to top everything all off, because why not?

And he's on the dance floor with Jiyoon, guiding her hips to some new pop song that's currently blaring on the speakers, his hand resting on the small of her back, feeling every movement at once. It makes sense. It's a party and she's enjoying herself. They both are.

What doesn't make sense is how you and your boyfriend have moved a few inches closer to him, dark eyes analysing every movement. Jake knows you're doing this to rile him up, and it's working enough for him to piss you off too.

You're annoyed.

You wanted nothing more than to yank that bitch off of him and be the one who's dancing with him. But you know you can't so instead, you bring your hand up to the back of Heeseung's neck, and it's like he knows what you're trying to do when he presses his lips to your jawline and starts kissing, sucking and biting, travelling lower to the base of your neck. You can feel him smirk when a moan escapes your mouth. You've noticed Jiyoon has turned to your direction to see why Jake seems to be distracted. You fight back a taunting smile.

Heeseung's hand snakes around your waist before resting it on the small of your back, pressing your bodies together which immediately makes you grind your hips against him as you burn your gaze into Jake's. It feels good, you won't lie.

He tears away when Jiyoon turns away from you, flustered, leaving you triumphant. Good .

The next time you look back at them, Jake is no longer to be found. Instead, Jiyoon has found someone else to dance with, and probably take back to her room. Called it .

You're not drunk. Not even close. You haven't had anything since you arrived, agreeing with Chaeyoung, who dragged you here in the first place, that the alcohol was cheap shit.

It's a few minutes later (minutes, not moments. You're not pretentious.) when you feel a hand on your wrist, dragging you away from Heeseung, not bothering to excuse you. You get into the first room Jake decides.

"Clothes off, now."

You rebuff. "I was busy with my boyfriend,"

"I don't give a shit," His voice sounds deeper than usual and you wonder if it's because you've actually managed to make him mad.

Jake ignores you and shuts the door behind you, pushing you against the wall and touching you everywhere while leaving open mouthed kisses by your jawline.

"You say we're friends and yet you pull up some bullshit stunt every chance you think is good for you." He says in between.

"Good for me, good for you, same thing," He doesn't even meet your eyes, looking everywhere as he pulls the back strings of your top, letting it fall to the ground.

"Did you want her to be me tonight?"

He still doesn't look at you as he gets on his knees and pulls your shorts down. "No."

You roll your eyes against your will as Jake sucks on your clit without warning, your hand immediately tugging on the boy's hair, having his face nuzzle closer.

"Don't lie to me—fuck—You and I both know why we're constantly in the same place," A moan slips out, and you can feel the ghost of the boy's smirk on you. You don't say anything else, too out of it to tell him to stop.

You don't have to tell Jake because he knows. Jake knows your body more than anything. Knows your games and the way your mind works.

Jake doesn’t respond and does exactly what he never thought of doing. He adjusts his position, swings your leg over his shoulder, and raises his hand enough to collide with your cunt, where the pain immediately warms up to your pleasure. The slap resonates within the room and it earns him a gasp.

"Watch your mouth, baby," You writhe against the firm grip that Jake has on your hips. "You don't want everything to be ruined now, do you? That's what you always say to me."

"What kind of game are you playing?"

Jake doesn't reply and dives back in between your legs, this time much rougher than earlier, sucking on your clit while his only other thought was how the girl who asked him to come must be trying to look for him now, and he knows exactly how long it will take her to search every room until she finds her own and sees you completely at his mercy. This was the kind of game he knew you would play if your places were switched, if he had a girlfriend that wasn't you.

"I always want to fuck you, Jake. If that's what's getting you worked up. And I have been for two years," You manage as you feel him insert two digits inside you. "What else would you want?"

Jake can tell he's got you all to himself by the way you gasp to fight back another moan that's threatening to spill from your lips, by the way you sink your chipped manicures into his scalp as he draws whimpers and whines out of you, never stopping as he leads you to your orgasm.

Your voice mocks him. Teasing, challenging, driving him insane. "You. I love you," Jake lets out.

You hear it as, "Let's put that pretty mouth of yours to good use. Get on your knees, baby."

ix.

It's May.

You don't have a boyfriend.

Jake only knows this upon eavesdropping on your conversation with one of your previous special friends , Choi Yeonjun. The guy's rash, definitely more of your speed, and much cooler than him if he wants to be honest. He doesn't know the full story, sort of just finds out about it by himself, but basically, you two have hooked up for a few months, until Yeonjun realised he was falling for someone and broke off the affair. And five months later, Jake had just moved into town.

A cute story, he guesses, or whatever. But it makes Jake feel twisted, remembering that you've been with other guys, have called other guys baby , and have kissed them where you've kissed him. It's practically the same with everyone.

He wonders, though. Wonders if he's the first guy you have managed to keep around. Wonders if you fuck anyone else behind his back, other than your boyfriend. Wonders if you have ever had a boyfriend during your affairs with other people, or if you were just plainly into fucking him over specifically.

But he's right behind the school building, supposedly here to pick you up, the pungent smell of smoke gravitating under his nose and whirls of curses means that you have company.

The crackle of the cancer stick is faint but it doesn't drown your husky tone when you say: "Shit's stressful."

Yeonjun snorts, backing against his shiny motorcycle. "Trouble in paradise, lover girl?"

"Now, why say it like that. You make me gag."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

"Whatever," You stand before the flagpole, left hand tucked away in your (Jake's) denim jacket's pocket, dominant hand flicking ashes onto the ground. "But yeah, there's something of the sort."

Yeonjun's eyes sparkle with obvious mischief. "Do tell, LN YN."

You roll your eyes. "Broke up with him. Found out some whore was leeching off of him. Felt like the right thing to do."

Jake doesn't mean to intrude, and he hadn't meant to stay either. He didn't know you broke up with Heeseung, but then again you never really tell him about anything related to that. He hasn't spoken to the older boy in weeks either. But he hears his name in between and now he's all too interested to hear what you have to say about him when he isn't around.

"Wait, what?" Yeonjun interrupts. "I thought you were going to tell me about Jake."

"What about Jaeyun?"

"So we're on a first-personal-name basis with the secret lover now? You weren't like this with me, YN," All out of it, Yeonjun stomps the cigarette with his boot, aggressively digging its grave.

"Oh, shut up," You laugh incredulously. "Where did you even get that idea from?"

"You're so," Yeonjun trails off. "Here's a little bit of spice—do you like him or something? Is the LN YN finally retiring from her cock parade?"

You scoff. "Idiot."

Yeojun ignores your comment. "Do you?"

You don't answer. The ego lies in your throat like the suspense of a bullet in Russian roulette, steadily pulling the trigger. Jake breathes, never letting go.

Say it.

Then it strikes him sharply, tearing the barriers of his heart apart. "I don't. He's just someone."

Yeonjun stares, his pierced eyebrow raised. "A friend?"

Of course.

"No," You say quickly. "I mean, yes. But no."

"You're whistling in the wind here. What is he to you exactly?"

You sigh exasperatedly. Jake doesn’t get why you have to ponder on it so much. You usually just say you're friends and move on.

"He's a friend that I fuck whenever I feel like it,"

"Meaning," Yeonjun is looking at you like you have all the answers to solve every problem there is in the world, waiting for you to unfold them.

"Friends with benefits, are you slow?"

"Fuck off."

You shrug, toying with the grey lighter in your hands, lighting it every fifteen (Yes, fifteen. It's been your favourite number recently.) seconds and burning its flame into the rusting steel behind you.

"YN," Yeonjun starts again.

"What," You look up at him, clearly done with the topic.

"Reality check right now," Yeonjun pressed. "You have feelings for him and you have no idea how to tell him, so you keep stringing him around at a distance enough for you to control it."

You take a puff, taking in the kill. "Don't be delusional." You exhale.

"Delusional because I'm right, aren't I?"

"Just drop it already." You snap.

Yeonjun raises his hands defensively, nodding his head as if to say he's letting the topic go. It's quiet again.

Jake tries to figure out if you've been quiet like this before, stuck driving in circles and telling people to get out of your car, sending them home crying. Or if he had been the first for everything. Maybe this whole time he'd been the one complicating things.

You seem to put yourself in similar situations, Jake notes.

Jake decides he's heard enough. It's enough and it's all he ever hears anyway. He's a friend . You're friends. This is always how it goes with you, despite everything.

You with your dumb (pretty) hair colour, cold dark eyes, rocking your (his) dumb signature denim jacket with your dumb cherry flavoured lipgloss that makes him weak, you who parades around town with guys fawning over you, you who gives them little to no attention at all, and you who picks one of the lucky ones to be your conquests before screwing them over.

You are selfish and you never try.

Jake chases down with your hair flowing against his cheeks to kiss away what dried wetness remains, and eventually crashes alongside you after you get off of him, breathless.

It's June.

The euphoria, however, is short-lived, and you eventually stand and rush awkwardly to pick up your clothes, and get dressed. “You wanted me to go rougher than usual, are you okay?” Jake calls. He knows, he knows that you know. He hopes at least.

“Everything's great,” You say, shimmying into your shorts. “I need to get home, though. It's my turn to cook tonight. My dad isn't home again.”

Jake reaches for a kiss and you don't pull away. He keeps on kissing you, his wet mouth chasing the corner of where your lips would flick upwards into a smile that he's fallen for.

Jake pulls away frowning, sliding your bra strap up your shoulder, and helping you put on your (his) hoodie. He says, "I love you, I'm sorry. He wasn't worth it. I'm sorry that you had to take the things you love and tear them apart, or pin them down with your body and pretend that they're yours forever."

And you haven't moved, you're frozen, and Jake's kissed you, and he knows you'll never forgive him for showing you such vulnerability, for getting past all your thorns, and maybe now, you will leave him alone.

To everyone else, most importantly to you, it comes out as, "Good night, YN. Get home safe."

xi.

It's July, and Jake kisses Jiyoon for the first time.

It's unplanned, really. He hadn't meant to but it was a spur in the moment with the picture of your smile and mischievous dark eyes in his head. He's always thinking of you.

But you haven't called or texted since that night and he's scared he might've done so much.

He does, however, kiss her. It happens because things are easy with Jiyoon. It's easy to laugh. It's easy to be happy. It took him a long time to get there, but he tried, tried, and tried.

So, to cut a long tale short, he wants to forget the fact that he messed it up with you and decides that this girl sitting next to him would be the perfect person to start over with.

Jake promises himself that it will be simple, uncomplicated. Everything is simple with Jiyoon. He's nervous (not because he likes her—he doesn't—at least, not like that. Which he feels guilty about since he started seeing similarities with you but whatever.). When she turns to him, he's drumming up the courage to reach over the seat and kiss her (like he would with you.).

"Hey, what's wrong?" Jiyoon ponders, her fingers sluggishly tapping the steering wheel, her brows pinched together in worry. Her eyes are dark, alluring, familiar, Jake thinks. Just pretend they're YN's and fucking kiss her, you idiot.

Jake moves in a little closer, trying to latch onto the belief that he can see those familiar hues in Jiyoon's eyes. He licks his lips, recalls the moments with you, and inhales slowly.

"Jake?" Jiyoon asks, perplexed and befuddled, as Jake places his hand on the head of her seat and moves perilously close. "What are you doing?"

And it's there. He takes control with a forced smile pressed against her mouth, snaking his hand around her neck and pulling her close.

Her eyes are closed when he flutters his open and he sees it. Out through the foggy window, he sees you. Your figure fades away when Jiyoon pulls away, and he realises he's stopped kissing her.

"You're a good kisser, Jake."

He pulls away with regret, reality hitting him, and feeling his skin flush. "I'm sorry, I can't—,"

Jake wishes he could go back in time and undo the previous twenty seconds of his life the minute his heart leaps into his throat and he sees the comfortable colour of blue.

"This was a mistake, I'm sorry."

He grabs his phone on the dashboard, unlocks the door, gets out and heads home.

xii.

It's August.

It's dark out, and Jake is in your room.

You called him over.

There's fire in just the right places, in your touch cautious on his ribcage, in your mouth asking sweetly on Jake's, in the tepid cooling fins from the vents, turned to just the right power.

You don't have sex with him. Jake softly kisses you on the mouth. It's not your birthday. It's the month you and him met at Heeseung's party. It's not even an occasion to be celebrated. (Unless, you're fucking cheesy then sure.). It's not what people do unless they're in a relationship, but with you, he's found that there are a lot of things a person could do with no strings attached.

You take a step back, partially to catch your breath and half to check the time. The digits are slightly obscured by Jake's fluffy head of hair, but they're still: 12:17 AM.

"It's that night," Jake whispers.

You kiss Jake's cheek, jaw, and bottom lip with your lip glossed, kiss-mouthed smile. "Yeah, it is." You untangle yourself from Jake carefully, as if you have all the time in the world.

You have a lot of things. A lot of secrets, unsaid promises, sacred thoughts he knew that could kill you inside. Jake thinks about this a lot.

"Do you think we still would've met if it weren't for that party?" You wonder aloud, sliding under your covers.

Jake leans his cheek against the head of the bed, cold steel scarring his skin, face turning to you. He's in deep thought as he drums his fingers on the grey pillows.

"Maybe," He finally makes up his mind, a goofy smile on his face. "I actually have a secret."

"Sounds interesting." You say, smiling. You move to your nightstand to tug on the switch of your night lamp open awkwardly as the last street light outside your window goes off, so as to not pull your left hand away from Jake.

"Leaving me again? This is your house, you know." He jokes.

"Shut up. I need the light," You curl back into the position you were in a few minutes prior, sliding under the duvet next to the boy. "I can't see your face."

Jake chews his lower lip and suppresses a grin. Adoration. It's crystal clear from him.

"Would you want me to know?" You ask. Jake's heart pounds, the last summer rain falls, you soothe him with circles from your thumb.

"I think so," Jake says. You kiss him on the mouth, pure and warm, encouraging him.

And Jake loves you. Nevertheless, since, until.

"I love you." Jake says.

You smile.

It doesn't sound like anything else.

please like and reblog with feedback !!!

— please do not copy , translate or repost any of my works anywhere !!

#enhypen hard hours #jake hard hours #enhypen smut #jake sim smut #enhypen jake smut #kpop smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen angst #enhypen scenarios #enhypen jake au #heeseung smut #jay smut #sunghoon smut #enhypen jake #dive into: i love you #from me 2 you

708 notes · View notes

evan4ever · 2 years

Note

can i request you to evan peters any character(or himself doesnt matter)x female has eating disorder he’s helping her like you know

I’m Here

Warnings: please please read with caution!!! This may be very triggering. ED (anorexia). Please reach out if you need help, there are resources and I promise you’re not alone 🤍

a/n: I contemplated writing this for awhile because it’s a deep and hard topic, but I’m hoping I wrote this in a way for anyone who struggles with this to know that there is help and people care. I’m linking an ED hotline, called NEDA. You can always message me if you need someone to talk to. Please don’t go through this alone 🙏🏻

I’m having this take place after you and Kit are released from Briarcliff

—

It’s been weeks. Weeks since you touched your favorite food. Weeks since you’ve ate more than a single bite of any meal before you. Weeks since you haven’t felt sick.

When you and Kit had finally been let out of Briarcliff, things were finally good. Having formed a relationship with Kit all that time together in that place, it wasn’t a surprise that he had asked you to come home with him, to be with him forever. Neither of you could imagine being apart after surviving for your lives together. So, of course you happily accepted.

You moved into his home, you spent months fixing it up, he went back to his job as a mechanic and you got yourself a job at a local diner. You were happy, Kit was happy. It was a picture perfect story and you swore nothing would make you feel anything like you did in Briarcliff. How could it? That place was hell and now you were free and living peacefully with the love of your life.

But with all the happiness you felt came an increase in your weight. Kit’s too, but that never bothered you. You loved it, in fact. He looked healthy and you fed him good, which he loved. But your own weight gain was a problem for you.

It didn’t matter that you were gaining because you were in a healthy and happy relationship. All you could focus on was that the number was increasing. It didn’t help that being nearly starved in the asylum had obviously made you drop an unhealthy amount of weight. You looked sick then, but standing that day in front of the mirror and observing your new curves, your stomach pouch and larger arms — something snapped in you. You hated the way you looked and you wanted nothing more than to look like you had the day you left Briarcliff.

So, you stopped eating.

Of course you didn’t want Kit to notice your lack of food intake, so you managed to take a bite or two of supper when he’d come home from work and stir around the food on your plate managing to make it look emptier than when you or Kit made it. And anytime he happened to question anything, you told him you had ate quite a bit at breakfast or lunch and you weren’t very hungry. You always reassured him. And he always bought it.

Your interest in food slowly dissipated. You had no desire to eat anything at all. Though the nausea from an empty stomach hurt quite a bit, your own mind didn’t let it win the battle. At some point, it became painful to eat a bite at all, like you had finally trained your stomach to hate food as much as your mind did. It was a sick and painful battle, but the way your body started slimming out and the number on the scale began dropping faster and faster was exhilarating.

Your goal was to hit the weight you had been when you left Briarcliff, but once you hit that number — you still weren’t satisfied. You wanted to lose more. So instead of allowing yourself to begin eating more, a healthier amount, you didn’t. You continued not eating and the number continued dropping.

You were sure Kit had no idea. He never commented on your weight, when you were larger and even now at a smaller size. You truly expected him to notice and to love it. Boys loved skinny girls. So why wasn’t he complimenting your weight loss? By this point, it was more than noticeable. Even your coworkers were impressed and had told you that you looked amazing. But never Kit. He always complicated other things about you, how your hair looked, your sparkling eyes, the way you looked nice, but never the size of your body.

Little did you know, though, that Kit had taken notice. It began on one of his days off where he realized you hadn’t stem anything all day, and by supper time you gave him the same comment you always had — that you ate too much throughout the day, you just weren’t that hungry. He quickly caught on to what was happening, how your body wasn’t only slimming out but wearing away. When he’s hold you at night, it was nothing for his arm to wrap around you twice if it could. Your ribs and your hip bones were poking out so far that it was worrisome. Your skin began paling and your hair brittling. He noticed all of it.

Your energy was gone at this point. It took everything for you to do your daily tasks, it pained you to get out of bed. If you could lay forever, you would.

It was getting bad. You had lost control and you didn’t even mean to. Of course you weren’t intending to become sick and frail, but your mind took over and would not allow you to become healthy again. Eventually, you believed Kit just didn’t care. There was no way he couldn’t see that you were sick, yet he never said anything. It spines you further that the man you love couldn’t see that you made yourself skinny so that you’d be more attractive, so much so that your life was slipping from you slowly.

Today was Kit’s day off. You stayed in bed when he got up, pulling the comforter up under your chin and wrapping yourself in it because you were so cold. You heard Kit moving around in the living room and kitchen but didn’t care enough to even wonder what it was that he was doing. All you wanted to do was disappear into thin air.

“Baby?” You heard his voice as he entered the room, looking over the thick blanket at him. You gave him a smile as he walked to your side and sat next to you.

“Good morning babe” you hummed quietly, trying to seem okay even though you knew you weren’t. He gazed down at you and you realized it was a look of concern that was on his face. He wore a small smile, but his eyebrows were pushed together and his eyes looked sad. “What’s wrong?”

He blinked a few times before looking down at his hands, you eyes flickering down to them too and noticing the muffin he held in them. You sucked in a sharp breath before looking back up to him confused. He let out a sigh, his eyes still on the muffin.

“Will you eat this for me? It’s blueberry.. your favorite.” He spoke quietly, almost scared to have asked. You clenched your jaw and pushed your own eyebrows together as a silent battle went on in your head. He was right, blueberry was your favorite. An blueberry muffins were expensive, so you guys didn’t buy them often. And now, here was Kit, holding one for you.

You wanted to accept his request, you wanted to shove the whole muffin in your mouth and melt into the sweetness of it. But your mind said absolutely not.

“Mm babe..” you hummed again, resting your head back on the pillow and closing your eyes and you shot him a smile, “I’m not hungry yet. I’ve only barely woken up. I will later?” Your eyes opened to meet his that held even more sadness. Your stomach turned when he seemed unhappy with your answers. He never pushed further when you declined food before, so why was he now?

You watched as he set the muffin on the nightstand next to you, his hands falling back in his lap as they clasped together and he stared down at them. You sat in silence wondering what was going on, fixated on his unreadable stance.

“I think we need to take you to the hospital.” He stated so quietly you questioned if you heard him correctly. Blinking a few times, you sat yourself up in the bed quick to pull the covers up to hide your bones that showed. You were nervous now at his sudden change in behavior today and the thought of going to the hospital made your pulse speed up.

“What?” You laughed nervously, shaking your head as if you didn’t understand. “Why would I need to go to the hospital?”

Kit still hasn’t met your eyes while yours were placed on him firmly. Your nerves grew with every passing second.

“You’re sick, y/n.” He said, sucking in a noticeably shaky breath. Your confusion and worry increased with his seemingly sadness.

“I’m not.” You disagreed, shaking your head. A deeper sigh left from his mouth and his shoulders slumped more than they were before, your eyes noticing the repeated clench and unclench of his jaw bone. “Kit..”

“We can get you help. There’s people out there that want to help you. I want to help you.” He spoke his last sentence in a whisper, a tear dropping onto his cheek. Seeing it pulled at your heart, realizing that he knew what was going on and was scared for you. “If we don’t get you help, your heart is going to give out. You can’t continue down this path and…” he sucked in another sharp, shaky breath, “and I can’t live without you.”

His eyes finally flickered at you, more tears dripping from his eyes to his beet red cheeks. His eyes begged you, pleaded with you to hear him out. You, at a loss for words, only stared at the broken man in front of you. You had for so long believed he didn’t notice and didn’t care when all along he had. You quickly thought back to all the times he’d offered you food, your favorite foods specifically. All the times he bought your favorite take out even though he could barely afford it, yet you denied eating more than a bite. All this time, that was his way of trying to help you. The only way he knew how that wasn’t taking you to the hospital. Now, he knew he had no choice if he wanted you to survive this.

“I’m okay Kit, really. I just haven’t been hungry—“

“You’re lying y/n.” His voice raised. It wasn’t a yell but it was a plead. “You’re not okay. You’re dying.”

The word dying made you flinch, because it was true. Your body was only weeks away from giving out on you and you knew that. You knew it and you didn’t want it to happen but you couldn’t fix it. Everything he was saying was true. But the thought of getting help and being forced to eat and regain weight was the worst feeling you’ve ever had.

“You can’t do this alone and I’m here for you. I want to help you get help, because I can’t give you the medical help you need. But I can stand by your side every step of the way. I am begging you.” He held your eyes in his, never looking away from them. He needed you to see how serious he was and how serious this situation was. If he could help you the way you needed, he would. He’d never force you to go to the hospital if it wasn’t your life depending on it. But he knew his love and guidance was not enough. He could fill your head with every compliment in the world, reassure you day in and day out that your beautiful no matter how you look, that you don’t have to kill yourself to be beautiful. He could tell you every day that you didn’t have to be skin and bones for him to want you, that he wanted you at your highest and healthiest weight just as much as he wants you now. But your health now wont allow you to be with him forever, and for that, he needs to help you get the correct help. “I’m begging you.”

Your eyes closed, no longer able to bare the brokenness he held. What you were doing may be killing you physically, but it was also killing him mentally. It wasn’t what you intended to do, of course not. You just needed him to open up to you for you to see it. And you knew everything he was saying was true and it was said out of love, from the very bottom of his heart. He was begging you to let him help you the only way he could.

It went silent again as you thought about his request over and over again. Your mind was telling you now but your entire being was begging you to let him. It was fucked up how strong the mind is. How much control it had over the person it belonged to. But you knew of you didn’t allow him to help you that you wouldn’t last much longer, and that was the amount of encouragement you needed to be able to accept his plea.

“okay.” You whispered, your eyes squeezing shut tighter. Suddenly, it felt like you could breathe. Like a weight was lifted off your entire body. Like everything you were fighting alone in was no longer holding you.

“Okay?” Kit whispered. You opened your eyes slowly and blinked through the tears that had formed allowing them to fall. Once your vision was clear and you were able to see Kit, you sniffled and nodded. He nodded along with you, a new small smile forming on his lips. “Okay.” He confirmed, standing from your shared bed and grabbing your hand gently to help you from it.

His eyes skimmed over your fragile body, the sight hurting him deeply. You noticed him doing so, but you didn’t shy away or become embarrassed. You were able to admit you needed help, and it was like your eyes opened wide and you could see the damage your mind was doing to you. And he could see it too.

“We’re gonna get you help, baby. Everything will be okay soon I promise.” He spoke softly, hugging you to him once you were dressed. You wrapped your weak arms around him and rested you head on his chest. Every move you made made you dizzy, and you held him for support as he guided you to the car and helped you in, bucking you and closing your door before entering the drivers side and starting it. His hand reached for yours as he began driving, taking the small thing in his tightly like he was holding it for dear life.

Your mind raced nervously the closer you got to the hospital, wondering what their point of action would be. You were scared they’d take you away or that you’d become a clinical experiment. Kit must’ve been able to tell you were scared, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“It’ll be okay baby. You’re gonna be okay.”

—

Tags: @evanpetersmood @witchsbitchestime @demxnicprxncess @yes-divine-ruler @shjjpm @evanpsrealwife @iruzias @jangsuzchap @quicksilversg1rl @submissiveforahsmen @angelmenace @lovelizzie-blog1 @justa19 @daylas-life @simp4petermaximoff @totta69

138 notes · View notes

city-luvr · 1 year

Note

Can I ask for megumi smut?

In which you are obsessed over his HANDS

*runs away*

꒰ FETISH － MEGUMI ꒱ 𓂃 𖦹 *.

៚݈݇ － mdni, nsfw content ahead.

៚݈݇ － character is aged up! hand fetish, mutual masturbation, fingering

a/n : come back here, anon! *runs after you* bless you for this request, anon 🙏🏻 also very sorry i was busy and just finished this now. nonetheless, hope you like it!

there was something weird going on with you today. whether he was doing chores, scrolling on his phone, or playing video games, you could not stop staring at megumi's hands.

at first, you thought maybe you just watched a few tiktoks that were focused on hands and fingers a little too much, and you found yourself liking it a little too much. but megumi's was different. you were mesmerized whatever they did.

his hands are strong and dependable. the type that can definitely do chores for you and lift heavy things for you, but can definitely hold you gently and play with your hair while cuddling too.

his fingers are long and slender. they're swift and powerful that they can kill the main boss in video games, but they can also be slow and soft when caressing you and soothing you when you wake up from a bad dream.

he's noticed it for a while now because you stare too long that it's too hard to not notice it, how you look like you're in a daze—your mind obviously someplace else, thinking of something else. he's not that dense to not have a clue, and you're in for a sweet treat.

you now find yourself making out with him. his hands are all over your body and you're addicted to the way his fingertips glide over your burning skin, as if he was adding fuel to the fire. he breaks away to whisper, "i wanna try something new," to which you nodded with heat rushing to your cheeks from anticipation and excitement that was getting hard to contain, evident from how soaking wet you were under your panties.

you weren't expecting him to propose this nor did you think it would actually be this good, but you had no complaints since you were both in for a show.

megumi was in front of you, shirt off, bottoms lazily tugged down just enough to let his hard-on out of the suffocating piece of clothing while he strokes himself, the tip already oozing with precum. you watched in pain as you touched yourself, wishing that it was you he was playing with instead.

he was indeed a sight to behold—forehead glimmering from the beads of sweat that had caused his locks to get damp, swollen pink lips parted as he lets out soft grunts from jerking himself off while his hooded eyes watched you do the same; he was beauty itself, but he could say the same thing about you—pleasure written all over your features, eyebrows furrowed adorably, lips agape as you sing sickeningly sweet tunes for him, juices running down your thighs, core soaking wet just for him.

"gumi," you whined as you rubbed your clit while using your other hand to spread your lips apart, slowly plunging in a finger inside your aching hole, eyes never leaving his hand that was pumping his dick, imagining that it was him inside you instead. the thought alone made you wetter than you already were. his hands had your full attention, but little did you know you had his, too.

hearing you desperately call out to him made him feel things. he couldn't hold back any more and swiftly moved to pull your digits out, replacing them with his own. now, it was your turn to feel things. "so tight, y/n. you're pulling me in so much, is this what you wanted, hm?" he whispers with fingers slowly moving in and out. even though you already had a finger inside earlier, it just really feels different when it's his—it feels fuller, more stretched out.

despite feeling embarrassed, you kept your eyes on his hands and watched as his fingers disappear inside you. your walls clenched and your slick coated his digits. "you really like that, don't you? like my fingers that much, huh?" he murmured near your ear before picking up the pace and ramming his finger inside you, adding another one in. with his fingertips curling, he had you writhing from pleasure. and to add up as if it wasn't already good enough, watching his fingers working on you like that hits different. good thing he knew you so well.

"gumi- fuck, i'm so close. please don't stop, ahh!" with the speed and depth his fingers were going, you feel closer to the edge, your whole body starting to tremble.

"go on, baby. cum on my fingers. yeah, just like that."

support banner by cafekitsune

#mailbox #blair secret files #jjk after hours : open #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu megumi #megumi fushiguro #megumi x you #megumi x reader #megumi smut

109 notes · View notes

lovecaitlined · 6 months

Text

For the love of logic…

(Aka, my thoughts before I stay away from the show for a while until KaySun gets resolved).

I don’t understand how they are bringing in third parties to the plot again, when it won’t help the ratings.

And if they need to add such third parties, why do the characters like KaySun, for example, flip flop between all these possibilities? How do you go from having ambitions as the lady of the house to that? How can you go from loyalty and someone’s cousin, plus someone against his own cousin’s transgressions, to that? Characters are deliberately written ambiguously so they can go any way they want.

I can only hope that these third parties will bring KaySun closer to each other. That all those leaked videos are not what they seem, and are something beneficial to the plot.

This goes for all the characters for the show—there is no logic to anyone, and people get new arcs before the old ones are closed. No proper conflict resolution or anything. The lack of creativity is astounding when we only have around 10 episodes left…

Before you say KaySun don’t help the ratings, they’re massively popular and they definitely impact AB. I don’t understand why the showrunners would shoot themselves in the foot like that.

I do believe it is possible to write a dramatic and angst-filled plot in a logical manner. They can play up the mind games and manipulation instead of focusing on illogical third parties, because by doing that, they are making their characters regress. The lack of good character development is painful.

The lack of screentime too—it’s no wonder a veteran like Binnur Kaya left. She could’ve had a great storyline, and I wouldn’t have minded her being a source of conflict for KaySun.

I mean, KaySun endgame, but I really hope they have a good story. Again, it’s highly possible to create their conflicts without introducing nonsensical things. They’re just dragging the story at this point.

I just hope that everything will be okay soon…I’m going to stay positive that this angst is ending and KaySun will get a kiss and halvet soon, haha. And it better be soon. Can we get it for 66 or 67? 🧿🙏🏻

#kaysun #dizi #beril pozam #taro emir tekin #yali capkini #yalı çapkını #love

17 notes · View notes

sith-obikin · 1 year

Text

OFF WE GO ❤️‍🔥

We are thrilled with the submissions and we’ll be posting them anonymously in batches in the upcoming days!

Here’s the first round of AO3 works, together with our heartfelt THANK YOU 🙏🏻

Little reminder for all the artists: don’t forget to tag us so we can promote your work here as well!

• (✦థ ｪ థ) by Anonymous (comic screenplay)

Reverse Master Padawan AU

Darth Vader is in need of an apprentice. His former Master and the Emperor pressuring him to raise a new generation of powerful Sith.  But it's not only him that seeks Vader's attention. An initiate, a young student, asks him to become his teacher.  Obi-Wan Kenobi has great potential. He is cunning, strong, fine swordsman and a very talented little boy. Most of Sith are very eager to snatch him, but Obi-Wan refuses them all because he wants Vader.

DW: Obi-Wan being a model student, basically your Ferus Olin from the Jedi Quest, but also very star-struck by Vader, who he adores. Bonus points if you can write the impending doom of apprentice killing their Master at the end as something both Vader and Kenobi contemplate.  Bonus bonus points if you can make it sort of Obi-Wan trying to seduce Vader in hopes that if they'll sleep together, Vader would be more receptive to taking him as an aprentice.

• Even if I Fall, I'll Protect You by Anonymous (comic art)

Qui-Gon dies but Obi-Wan doesn't get to train Anakin, he is given to another Master. Years pass and without the help of taking care of his young charge Obi-Wan is not dealing well with his grief and emotions.

So when during a mission to investigate Kamino he is approached by his grandmaster Dooku, there isn't much holding him in the Jedi Order.

What Obi-Wan doesn't know is that young Anakin harboured a massive crush for him and now will do anything to bring his beloved Obi back to him.

DW: Anakin being obsessed over Obi-Wan, finding ways to seek him out and confront him, getting angry and jealous when Kenobi fights or flirts with other Jedi. Obi-Wan secretly trying to protect the boy from Sidious grand plan.

DNW: Infidelity. Obi-Wan or Anakin openly engaging in any sexual or romantic activity with someone else (past mentions of flings are fine).

• will you give in to me? by Anonymous

Sith Suitless Vader and Jedi Padawan Obi-Wan in a fuck or die situation. Padawan Obi is reluctant, Vader is impatient. Things get heated. Obi starts enjoying it too

DW: Smut, Bottom Obi, Top Ani, Non-Con Elements, Angst, bittersweet or happy ending,

DNW: Top Obi-Wan, Bottom Anakin, Scat or waterworks, bad or ending, Obi or Ani hating each other, anidala

• Look of Ruined Desperation by Anonymous

Emperor Obi-Wan loves to attend meetings in his office, with his dear husband warming his cock.

Don't want: rape/non-con, others participating in the obikin sex, open relationship, unhappy ending, unhappy relationship, watersport, scat, emeto, pet play, age play

• by the fires of the sun by Anonymous

Jedi Anakin (any era is fine!) is in the clubs of Coruscant looking for a no-strings-attached one night stand to take the edge off before he leaves for a mission that could take months. It's in the clubs that he meets "Ben" and it's lust at first sight.

For Obi-Wan, what started as him luring a Jedi into his bed in order to try and sneak information out of him, quickly turns into a obsession with Anakin and a need to make him his forever.

Bonus points for infidelity where Anakin is sneaking around behind Padmé's back by seeking a one night stand with someone else.

DW: NSFW (prefer top!Obi for this, but either dynamic is fine), dominant!Obi, Anakin being enamored enough that he ignores/misses a ton of red flags about Obi-Wan being a Sith

DNW: Obianidala, piss, scat, vomit, mpreg, heavy pet play, major character death

• you'll never know, dear by Anonymous

Yoda doesn't send Obi-Wan to deal with Vader on Mustafar.

Instead he sends someone else and they return with the news that Skywalker is dead. Obi-Wan is inconsolable.

It feels like the half of him has perished, his heart withered and died. His soul darkened.

He falls into a deep depression, before slowly starting to blame everything and everyone for the death of his beloved boy, the light of his life.

He iz convinced that had he gone to Mustafar, he could've talked Anakin back to the light. Which causes him to Fall in the end, driven by desire for revenge.

He starts haunting down Inquisitors and occasional Jedi who cross his path in his attempts to get to Sidious and kill him for what he did to his boy.

DW: Obi-Wan being extremely distraught, almost catatonic before he spirals. It's up to you whether Vader lives or indeed dies at the end.

DNW: Palpatine killing Obi-Wan.

• They won't know Mustafar by Anonymous

-Do you remember this moment, Vader? Just 9 days before your discovery.

-How to forget it Darth Ben

Obi-Wan and Anakin find two people identical to them, apparently they are from another galaxy.

• Disintegration by Anonymous

ROTS AU where Obi-Wan Falls instead of Anakin

• i've done dark things (in these shadows) by Anonymous

Obi-Wan as a Sith apprentice of Dooku and is Dooku's chosen heir but seeing as Dooku is just from a part from an external branch from the Bane line of Sith, his line of Sith Lordship isn't well liked or favored by either the wide known Sith Empire or Sidious himself (the current Sith emperor).

Because of this, Dooku cautions his apprentice to hide his talent so others will not know their plan to overthrow Palpatine, so they can usurp the throne and establish Obi-Wan as the new Emperor.

Palpatine's chosen is Anakin and the moment Anakin and Obi-Wan meet, Anakin knew he wanted Obi-Wan for himself, cue dangerous flirting game and Obi-Wan trying to navigate having both Anakin and Palpatine's attention on his back.

DW: Bottom Obi-Wan Kenobi, Top Anakin Skywalker, Kinks of all kinds, Gore, dead Dove, it doesn't matter, anything goes.

DNW: Top Obi-Wan Kenobi, Bottom Anakin Skywalker, Major Character Death (Only Anakin and Obi-Wan, if others, it's fine idc)

• I would burn the stars to protect you by Anonymous

Whump with sith Obi-Wan + jedi anakin.

They haven't known each other for long but actually long enough for them both to develop feelings to each other despite their differences. The context on how they meet is up to you. It can be because of a mission the council assigned to Anakin, but yeah you decide.

One day Anakin gets seriously injured by one of Lord Kenobi's inquisitors. Obi-Wan goes feral and fully in protective boyfriend mode (The guilty inquisitor is immediately killed of course).

DW: The more angsty and whumpie the better!, Blood loss injury

DNW: major character's death (it can be temporary tho), smut

• A song to keep us warm by Anonymous

Dyad AU.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was renounced by Qui-Gon Jinn after the battle on Naboo and had chosen to leave the Order.

Anakin gets to be Qui-Gon's new padawan instead.

Years later, Obi-Wan resurfaces again, on the battle of Geonosis, as a Sith Lord.

Shortly after that Anakin begins to have visions of him, the Force somehow connecting them and Anakin is forced to confront the man who might have been his older brother his friend but now turned his enemy.

DW: Sort of Reylo Force connection vibes, with Anakin being angry and guarded, while Obi-Wan is curious and calm. Maybe they slowly learning about each other.

DNW: Major Character Death, Unhappy Ending, Anidala (could be in passing but ultimately obikin is the soulmate endgame)

• i'll help you fall down with me by Anonymous

Rako Hardeen Arc (or a similar style mission), but rather than faking his death, Obi-Wan fakes a fall to the Dark Side for the mission. In his distress, Anakin falls (for real) and follows after his Master to find and rejoin with him.

DWs: Angst, Established relationship for obikin, Dubcon or noncon when Vaderkin finds out Obi-Wan was faking his fall

DNWs: piss, scat, vomit, mpreg, heavy pet play, major character death

• 'eat your young' by Anonymous

Sith Lord Kenobi and his acolyte Skywalker have a grueling training session.

DW: sexual tension, sweaty bodies, bloody sparring relationship might be established or not.

DNW: go crazy! no limits

#sith obikin #obikin #sith #fest #vaderwan #vader #obi wan #darth vader #anakin #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #sith obi wan #sith anakin #FIRST DAY!!#fics and art #so much food❤️‍🔥

79 notes · View notes

taexual · 5 months

Note

Dude where do I even start :ccc

This chapter, I really couldn't wait to have some free time and read it peacefully (peacefully meaning, squealing and losing my shit at every paragraph)

I loved the plotting ok, the attention to details, the way they all worry about each other and just fight against this urge to bury Sid alive, so inspiring and wholesome :D

Also, something I've absolutely always loved about your writing is this continuous narration of the characters thoughs, interactions and quirks, like it may be the simplest of things for other people (like writers in general and stuff) but for me these moments -of Luna finally exchanging a gossipy stare with Maggie, or Jungkook feeling devastated when Oc took her hand away, and then making sure that it wouldn't happen again-, they just add so much endearment, personality, depth to the story. Idk, it feels like every comma you write has a purpose, and will eventually add up to some beautiful metaphors, and revelations.

What does it feel like to be such a talented writer??

Now, regarding the lovey dovey stuff... What the actual fuck are you trying to do to me? I swear I cannot look more deranged giggling at my phone every 32 seconds jfc, have some compassion.

Like jk demanding that kiss in the park? Had me doing flips

The “I never knew how to love you quietly."

AND OC RECITING HIS ENTIRE SPEECH??!? ‘We have Sociology together, I saw you sleeping in class, very cute by the way, the professor does not know how to shut up, have you seen that new Studio Ghibli film, I recently watched their classic with some friends, My Neighbour Jungkook, I’m Totoro by the way, I thought maybe—wait—no—’”

“Not one period, nothing,” you continued, a melancholic haze in your eyes. “Just commas and an endless stream of thought. You could have asked me to bury a body, I would have said yes.”

STFU I ALMOST CRIED, THOSE ARE MY BABIESS

The rain listened. It had become a fundamental part of your present and a prophet of your future: the two of you were going to spend the rest of your lives listening to the rain and falling in love.

This destroyed me actually, get me someone to listen to the rain and fall in love with, rn please and thank u

Also watch me try and write 'transfixing. Beguiling. Effulgent. Pulchritudinous' next time I'm falling asleep to test my writing abilities fr, just you wait

He was almost ready to call Rated Riot’s next song “Smile Lines” and just sigh dreamily into the microphone for five minutes while Yoongi played gentle piano chords in the background.

As if their entire discography wasn't like this already, at least in my mind it is. But yeah, I can totally see him doing something like that next time oc does anything remotely endearing (breathing basically)

Ugh idk what to say, you have me screaming and crying for this couple, these characters and their story all the time, and I love you for it. There are also things I forgot to mention because my phone refuses to actually save things in the Clipboard, but overall this made my week, as your updates always do (and that paired with Ateez's performance in Coachella in a couple of minutes?? Yeah life feels worth living again 🤭🤭)

Thank you sm for this, take care of yourself pleaseee, ill be waiting for the next one cccc:

oh how i wish i could thank you eloquently, instead of going sskdhfksh at every word of your message 😭 i must stress that the fact that you noticed (!) these little moments between characters and you've enjoyed (!!!) them is the absolute highest reward i could get 🙏🏻 it's so easy to skim, you know?

babe making you giggle is my main purpose in life at this point, i don't know what to tell you. and you'RE SO RIGHT OMG he's so whipped for her, their next album is just going to be jungkook morphing from this 🥰 into just this ❤️ (like me for you rn, fr)

i also hope you have more peace and quiet to do the things you enjoy in your life!! i love you!!! 🥺🤍🤍🤍🤍 bless ateez btw

#ask #alanniys #taexual; sleepwalking #thank you thank you thank you 🥺🥺🥺#i actually had to split this chapter..... so this almost 20k monster is only half of what i had planned 🥴#but i figured the word count was getting kinda wild and split it in two shdkdh #so naturally i was a little worried about the plot and the pacing #but i hoped that the uncut / intentionally long scenes between the two main characters would make up for it? 🥺#editing still took me over a week lol #so i'm overjoyed that it all got you to smile 🥺🥺🥺🥺#YOU are transfixing beguiling effulgent pulchritudinous (jesus this last one) and so much more #thank you again 🤍🤍🤍

5 notes · View notes

im-no-jedi · 2 years

Text

MLWTBB: Business Is Business

aka the (continued) journey into my self insert nonsense✨

chapter summary: while the Bad Batch is away on a mission, an oddly familiar Devaronian kicks Cid out of her parlor and takes it for himself, causing several problems for Hannah...

notes: this is a continuation of my story, “My Life With The Bad Batch”; I highly recommend reading that first before this one! I created a few new planets for this story. I’m also not 100% versed in SW terminology, so forgive me if some things are labeled incorrectly! each chapter will be rated accordingly, as opposed to the overall fic. lastly, there is romance in this story. hope you enjoy! 💙

add. notes: this chapter was edited and proofread by my sis @jam-n-ham! thanks sis!! 😋💙 also, in case it isn’t obvious, this story is my version of episode 13 “Infested”. I tried to stick to canon as much as possible, while also delving more into one of my favorite side characters in the show (please more of the Durand family in season two 🙏🏻)

Chapter 1, 2500+ words, rated G (there’s mentions of alcohol and that’s about it LOL)

next chapter

✨MLWTBB masterlist✨

______________________________________________________________

It was yet another slow Primeday at Cid’s Parlor. Hannah had woken up a bit late that morning, but thankfully Cid didn’t dock her for it. So far, only Bolo and Ketch were in the parlor, like usual. There was a bit of mess to clean up from the night before, but it didn’t take long for Hannah to get that taken care of. It was an extremely boring time, even more than usual.

All Hannah really hoped for now was that she would finally see her friends come walking through the door again. They had been gone for a few days on another mission for Cid, something Hannah was quite used to by this point. But she was extra lonely this time and missed them more than usual. She thought about how she was going to give Omega the biggest hug ever when they all got back. She imagined Wrecker joining in and scooping both her and Omega up into a squeeze fest between the three of them. She pondered the sort of snide comments Tech and Echo might say about their mission, as they often did whenever they came back to the parlor. She dreamed about seeing Hunter again, the man she loved with all her heart, and telling him how much she missed him as she ran her fingers through his long, dark brown hair. It would be absolutely wonderful.

Suddenly, footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs towards the parlor. Hannah’s heart leapt into her throat, desperately wishing it was who she thought it was.

But it wasn’t. Not even close.

Several intimidating looking men in dark armor came flooding into the parlor, each of them carrying a weapon. Hannah bolted upright from the counter she’d been leaning against, unsure of what to do. Then another figure came stepping in, quite confidently. It was a male Devaronian with green skin, wearing a nice suit and holding some sort of small lizard creature in his arms. He was obviously the leader of this group. The room went silent as the Devaronian looked around, surveying the place.

Hannah had a moment of panic at the sight of him. Memories of Volruna flooded into her head, with the man in front of her briefly being replaced by the visage of Vin Drazundr instead. She had to literally shake herself back to reality and exhaled deeply. Then she looked to Bolo and Ketch, who were completely frozen in place. With a deep breath, she gathered up all her courage and decided to approach the newcomer. “Uhh, hello! Can I help you?”

The Devaronian adjusted the collar of his shirt before answering her. “I’m looking for Cid. Would you happen to know where she is?”

Cid wasn’t expecting anybody today to Hannah’s knowledge. She knew what she was supposed to do in situations like this. “I might... who exactly is looking for her, if I might ask?”

“Roland,” the Devaronian replied proudly. “Roland Durand. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

The name didn’t ring a bell to Hannah at all. The way he was acting though made it out like he was important in some way. Regardless, she didn’t like the vibe she was getting from this guy at all. It unfortunately reminded her of Vin again. “Yeah, a pleasure. I’m sorry, what is your business with Cid? It’s kind of my job to ask so she doesn’t get bothered unnecessarily.”

Roland chuckled. “Adorable. You’ll be a fun bartender, I’m sure.”

Hannah blinked in shock. “Excuse me?”

Roland then made a hand signal to the armored men, who began searching the entire parlor. Bolo and Ketch tried to avoid them as much as possible, insisting they were just there as patrons; eventually, they just ran out of the parlor altogether. Hannah opened her mouth to try and retort to what was going on, but Roland silenced her. Then one of the men discovered the back room and alerted Roland about it. Again, Hannah tried to speak, but was stopped by Roland.

“Be a dear and whip up some drinks for me and my men, would you?” he said as he walked towards the back room.

Hannah stood in place, completely dumbfounded. She was wrong before; this guy was somehow worse than Vin. “Jerk didn’t even tell me what kind of drink he wanted...”

Despite her curiosity, Hannah kept herself away from the room, much to her discretion. She knew Cid had told her to stay out of stuff like this in case there was trouble, but she couldn’t help wanting to rush in and at least see what was going on.

It didn’t take long before Hannah got her answer. The door to Cid’s room slid open, catching Hannah’s attention immediately. To her surprise, Cid was walking out of the hallway, hands in the air, with Roland and some of the armored men behind her.

“What’s going on?” Hannah exclaimed.

“A simple change of hands, sweetheart,” Roland replied. “Nothing more.”

“More like a hostile takeover,” Cid retorted. She saw the concerned look on Hannah’s face and reassured her, “Don’t worry, Red. This ain’t permanent.”

“You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?” Roland said slyly. “Get her out of my parlor, would you, boys?”

Hannah scoffed. “Your parlor?”

As the armored men began literally shoving Cid out, she turned to Roland, shouting, “You better not lay a hand on her, Roland! You’re not her type!”

Roland rolled his eyes and scoffed before turning to Hannah. “Congratulations, you’re now a part of the Durand syndicate. You can thank me by getting those drinks I asked for earlier.”

Hannah was once again too dumbfounded to even move. She felt Roland step closer towards her and instinctively backed away.

“Now, now,” he reassured her. “No need to fret. I’m not your enemy, I promise. In fact, I’ll gladly double whatever Cid was paying you before as a show of my sincerity.”

Hannah scowled at him. “Why do I have a hard time believing that?”

Roland chuckled. “You’re a feisty one. Just do as I say, and you’ll have nothing to worry about.” He gave her a sly look before returning to the back room. A look similar to the one Vin first gave her at the Prism Palace.

Now Hannah knew she definitely had something to worry about.

*********************

The following day, Hannah decided to conveniently avoid the parlor as long as she could. It didn’t matter what Roland said, or even what he tried to do, there was no way she was going to work for someone like him. Especially while she was alone. Then again, that entire situation would never have happened in the first place if the Bad Batch were there. Hannah began imagining scenarios where the five of them had put a stop to Roland’s takeover of the parlor, if only just to keep herself sane.

In the back of her mind though, she worried. Any number of things could happen between then and whenever her friends actually came back to Ord Mantell. And Roland’s words from the day before still concerned her. She tried to not think about it, but her worries were too strong. The fact that nearly everything about Roland reminded her of Vin didn’t help either.

Maybe she could just leave. She could find somewhere else to stay until the Bad Batch came back and fixed everything. Mrs Ygreu had always said her place was open if Hannah ever wanted to visit, maybe she could go there.

No, Hannah didn’t want anyone else to get involved in this mess unnecessarily. She had to ride this out on her own, as much as she hated it. Maybe Roland would just leave her alone if she stayed away long enough...

Suddenly, there was a knock on her door. Hannah’s heart skipped a beat. Initially, she thought it might be one of the Clones finally coming back. Nobody ever visited other than them or Cid. Maybe it was Cid. Hannah hadn’t seen her since the day before. Did anybody else even know where she lived?

Another knock on the door. Hannah’s heart began racing. She had to know who it was. Throwing caution to the wind, Hannah went over to the door and opened it without a second thought, hoping beyond hope it was someone she knew.

Unfortunately, it was the one person she knew that she wished she didn’t.

“Ahh, there you are,” said the recognizable voice of Roland. His lizard-like pet, Ruby, was in his arms and two armored men stood behind him. “I was worried when you didn’t come in today. Is there a problem I should know about?”

Hannah almost laughed. “It’s my day-off,” she replied, a visible scowl on her face.

Roland pursed his lips and hummed. “Good to know.” His eyes began scanning the room behind her curiously. “Interesting space you have here. Mind if I give it a better look?”

Hannah’s eyes narrowed. “Depends. What’ll you do if I refuse?”

A snicker escaped from Roland’s fanged grin. “I think you already know the answer to that, sweetheart.”

There was a familiar pang in Hannah’s chest. Her breath caught in her throat, and a shiver ran down her back. It took her a moment to remember that she was talking to Roland and not Vin.

Without waiting for a response, Roland pushed his way past Hannah into the room. The armored men stayed outside, but waited in the doorway.

“Quite the collection you’ve got in here,” Roland said as he walked through the space. “Although I doubt all of this stuff is yours.” He gestured to one of the large crates against the wall and chuckled.

“It was part of our agreement,” Hannah told him, her arms crossed with a stern look on her face.

“How noble of you,” Roland responded. He snapped his fingers and pointed at the crate. The two armored men came into the room and began dragging the crate out of the apartment. “And now it won’t bother you ever again.”

Hannah maintained the stern look on her face. She could see what Roland was trying to do, and it wasn’t going to work. “What do you want from me, Roland?”

The small lizard creature in Roland’s arms began growling happily as her owner rummaged through Hannah’s fridge. “A drink would be nice,” Roland responded, pulling out a piece of food for Ruby to munch on. “But apparently, it’s your day off.” He sat down on one of the kitchen stools with Ruby in his lap, happily munching on the snack she’d been given. “That’s alright though. You’ll have plenty of time to make up for it tomorrow.”

The hairs on the back of Hannah’s neck were beginning to stand on end in anger. She walked up closer to Roland from behind the kitchen island with a mighty scowl on her face. “I’m not coming back tomorrow. Or the day after that. Or ever again.”

A small smirk grew on Roland’s face. “Defiance will get you nothing but trouble, dollface. And really, what reason do you have to be that way anyway? I haven’t done anything harmful to you.”

“You stole Cid’s Parlor from her!” Hannah exclaimed, nearly slamming her fist on the counter.

“So?” Roland bluntly responded. “How does that hurt you, exactly? You’ve still got your job. Your home. I’ve even helped clean up this place a bit for you.” He snapped his fingers again, and the armored men returned to carry out another one of the crates from the room. “There, I just did it again. You’re welcome.”

Hannah shook her head, the scowl still firmly in place. “I don’t care. I know how people like you work. You’re not the first crime boss I’ve encountered, and I doubt you’ll be the last.”

“Living here on Ord Mantell?” Roland said with a scoff. “That’s for certain.”

Hannah took a few steps closer, now standing directly in front of Roland from behind the counter. Her tone was laden with malice as she spoke. “You can try to sweet talk me all you want, but it won’t make a difference. I work for Cid, not you.”

Once again, Roland snickered behind his fanged grin. “Quite the loyal employee, aren’t you? A good quality to have.” He took Ruby off of his lap and placed her on the counter between himself and Hannah. The little lizard creature looked up at Hannah and growled before snuggling up to Roland’s hand. “You’re better off putting that tenacity of yours to good use down at the parlor than trying to intimidate me.”

Hannah’s hands came slamming down on the counter so hard, it spooked Ruby. “Quit messing with me, Roland! I already told you, I’m not coming back! I don’t care what you do; take my whole apartment away if you want, I don’t care! I’d rather live on the streets than work for someone like you.”

The entire time Hannah was yelling, Roland’s expression remained calm. If anything, he seemed entertained by her outburst, with the small smirk returning to his face again. Once Hannah had finished, Roland chuckled to himself and began petting Ruby to calm her down.

“I wonder if Cid feels the same way,” he slyly responded. “I wonder if that’s why she’s stuck around.” He looked Hannah directly in the face, still smirking slightly. “I wonder... how things might change if she suddenly wasn’t around anymore?”

The serious determination on Hannah’s face began to fade. Her eyes went wide with realization, and she began to slink back away from Roland.

“I’m really not asking for much, sweetheart,” Roland said, shaking his head. “Just keep doing what you’re doing, and you’ll be fine. Cid will be fine too. It’s that simple. Or, we could make things more difficult, if that’s what you really want.” He slid off the stool and came up beside her, almost uncomfortably close. Hannah could just feel the smirk spreading across his face. “I don’t know about you, but I much prefer when things aren’t so complicated.”

Hannah said nothing and just stood still, absorbing Roland’s words and practically shaking from the weight of it all. Roland left her side and told her to enjoy the rest of her day off as he headed for the door with Ruby still in his arms. He paused in the doorway briefly to turn back to Hannah and said, “See you bright and early tomorrow, dollface.”

And with that, he was finally gone. Hannah was left alone in her kitchen, still shaken by the entire experience. She felt like crying and throwing up at the same time. With shaky hands, she leaned over the counter, resting her head in her hands and breathing heavily, with small sobs gradually creeping out.

In the back of her mind, she could hear Cid’s voice berating her for being so foolish. She wasn’t worth the trouble, is what Cid would tell Hannah. Save yourself, she would absolutely say. But Hannah couldn’t do it. She wasn’t going to sacrifice Cid’s life just so she could avoid working for Roland. Even Irridas back at the Prism Palace hadn’t been that cruel.

If working for Roland is what would keep Cid safe, then she would do it, no questions asked.

#the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #would y'all believe that I wrote this over a YEAR ago??#well the first half of it anyway LOL #I wrote most of this story before ever finishing the og MLWTBB #cause that's just how my brain works haha #star warz #my storiez

3 notes · View notes