#they cause chaos wherever they go

[emilyelizabethfowl]

no but seriously if any (or worst case scenario, all) of the ASL actually joined the Marines, Garp would be begging them to go and do anything else, even if that meant becoming pirates, within a week flat

[lunar-serpentinite]

ill never stop thinking abt luna-harry friendship i love my lil oddballs who do silly things together and disconnect from the world to go and look for whimsical things in the woods. i just think being around luna lets harry reexperience the wonders of life that he never had the luxury to experience, while luna gets a kindred soul and enthusiastic participant of her adventures in harry. my little sillies go on long nature hikes for days on end.

luna chattering away about the creatures they could find within the trees and beneath the foliage. harry listening along and chiming in about muggle folklore creatures that have similarities w luna's own creatures. sometimes they go on for hours without a word exchanged between the two of them bc they are listening to the whispers of the wind and wood.

my sillies :(

[an-eldritch-peredhel]

#dang it do i have a new oc now

Sounds like!! I'd love to hear more if you've got it!

(referring to my tags on this post)

You will meet a stranger, sometimes, if you make a habit to frequent taverns, inns, halls for game, or even the one tree where the young Bracegirdle cousins sneak off to play marbles. Well, you will like as not meet many strangers, except in the last case, but this one will be different. Or perhaps you get lucky, and don't frequent such places, but find yourself in one unexpectedly, and meet them regardless.

Everyone in Gondor knows someone who knows someone who met Lady Luck, no one has met her themself. If you do, starry-eyed romantics say, you'll be blessed with good fortune for all your days. The pragmatists tell you you'll be blessed with the good sense to discern a scam.

He may smirk at you after winning a bet, some dark-haired man, using his earnings to buy a round for the bar. It's always a different man, but it always goes to Alwed's tab. It keeps the crowd from getting too rowdy, even if the more superstitious get on edge.

No one remembers meeting them the first time, but dwarves with common sense avoid Audr's shell games and silver-toothed smile- you always win, but it's never worth it.

A woman with greying-gold hair and stiff fingers might call herself Eadrun, and challenge you to a game of dice. Few decline, and far fewer win.

For as few elves remain in Middle Earth, the one who calls himself Herendil and laughs as though his name is a joke should be recognizable. He seems young and lighthearted in a way most have lost, but he will play you cards, win just as much as he loses, and disappear, never recognized.

A hobbit-lass may giggle, red curls gleaming in the sun, and introduce herself as Peony Sandheaver, her family is visiting from Bree, and she wants to see how Shire-hobbits play Jacks.

Sometimes an orc prays over a set of knucklebones, knowing that at least one god will hear one prayer. Orcs have little luck in battle, but uncanny luck with dice.

There are countless stories, just as many true as not. Countless names, far more unnamed figures, always just out of place enough wherever they are to be interesting and promise new tales, never enough to provoke suspicion, not at first.

Even those in the Blessed Realm may find this dark-eyed stranger. Always dark-eyed, like bottles of dark glass. They stop by Aulë's workshop on occasion, to learn and suggest and play new games. They never win the first round, but most have the sense not to bet anything they aren't willing to lose on the second.

Oromë's people call them Umbarnica with a laugh and a toast in welcome. They thrive in the drunken revels after a successful hunt, sharp as ever as they dance from game to game, cackling at ill-advised propositions offered as collateral for or against a bet. Usually this means them winning to avoid it, a frequent enough occurrence as-is, but every now and then they'll decide to let someone get lucky. The bragging rights are the real reward.

And there are no guarantees with this stranger. No way to ensure their favor, though many ways to get their attention, few good. They like irony, take pleasure in hubris reaching its fall. They love superstition, even if they don't always honor it, and they love stories. There are gods that can be mistaken for kind, they are not one of them, created to serve the king the Dark Lord could have been. Their favorites are fickle, their grudges subtle but long-held. They love cheaters, unless they're at the end of the attempt. They will always catch you, and you will always regret it. They slink through candle-shadows and pipe-smoke, grinning, dance in town squares turned to faire grounds, curl up on comfy chairs indoors on rainy days.

But sometimes, in these days, you won't meet a stranger at all. Sometimes your storyteller will get a bright-dark glint in their eyes, and some dice will roll strangely high and some dice will roll strangely low and either way the story will be better for it. And if the next time the group meets you need to take a moment to remind the storyteller exactly what happened last session, well. That's why you take notes.

So pray to the dice-god, card-master, quick-sighted. It might do you no good, but they love superstition, and they love stories. And when you play a dark-eyed stranger, don't cheat at cards.

[ultimateaclrecovery]

Sneezed in the tsa line and gave myself a nose bleed.... like literally as I was putting my bag on conveyor belt to be scanned. It’s hard to imagine a worse time for blood to just start pouring out of my face.

Luckily the tsa agents were really nice and one of them got me so many paper towels (like a comical amount of paper towels). But then I just had to awkwardly chill in the corner of the tsa area bleeding by the trash can because the only bathrooms that I knew required getting on a train. And then I just took the train kind of bloody before finally washing up in the bathroom near my gate. It’s probably a bit of a biohazard to just wander through the airport like that but I didn’t have a better idea sooooo.

At least I had a second mask

[katsukistofu]

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ k. bakugo x teacher! fem reader. fluff. ⭑ he keeps staring. the kids notice.

In your five years of teaching, you never thought you’d see Dynamight sitting cross-legged on the daisy shaped carpet in the center of your classroom, while your kids swarm around him to paint his face.

Warmth spreads across your chest as you take it all in. It’s quite the sight, to see the big, buff, seasoned twenty five year old pro hero letting all these tiny toddlers take turns taking clumsy swipes at his face with the colorful paints you bought for them the week before for art class.

What you don’t notice is the way his eyes trail to you wherever you are in the classroom. When you move to open the windows to let the fresh air in, to wipe the chalkboard, even when you’re organizing the mess of crayons on your desk into their rightful bins.

“Why do you keep staring at our teacher?” One of them, a little boy wearing his t-shirt backwards, curiously pipes up. Everyone else nods in agreement, they’ve been wondering the exact same thing.

“You gonna tell her what I said when I leave later?” Katsuki raises a brow. A chorus of playful noooo’s follow him.

“We’re gonna tell her while you’re still here!”

These little brats. He’s barely known these kids for two hours and already he knows that they love you like a second mother, and wouldn’t be letting him go so easily. There’s fondness in his eyes as Katsuki chuckles and leans in, and the kids eagerly lean in to hear what he has to say.

“I’m starin’ cause she’s pretty.”

Gasps and nods of agreement spread across the carpet just as you clap your hands together, your sweet voice ringing through the classroom, to which everyone, including Katsuki with his paint bedazzled face, turns to give you their fullest attention.

“Alright my angels, let’s give Mr. Dynamight some space now okay?”

Curious little eyes glance back and forth between you and Dynamight with, when someone loudly pipes up, “Ms. L/n doesn’t have a boyfriend!”

“Mr. Dynamight thinks you’re pretty!”

“He stares at you like the way my brother stares at ice cream!”

“Hey I was going to say that!”

Bickering ensues across the carpet and you simply gape at them as a hint of a smirk appears on Katsuki’s face.

Should we tell them after class? He mouths in your direction.

No, you mouth back, covering a giggle behind your hand at the continued chaos of your kids behind your boyfriend.

A little homework never hurt anyone.

[kiwi-does-stuff]

Just so ye know, I'm here if you need to talk to anyone. It may be hard but you got this. You didn't went this far only to stop now. You can do this I believe in you!

I’m gonna hold on >:)

[monzabee]

pon de replay - cl16 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where Charles decide to prove to everyone that it is him that you belong to, and only him.

Pairing: charles leclerc x reader 

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: smuttt, nothing but pure filth, one might even say it is pwp, unprotected sex (cover your willy don’t be silly), oral (f receiving), kinda exhibitionism?, public sex, jealous charles, possessive charles, carlos being a little shit because he’s bored, poor lando, not even sure if i fulfilled the request or not, minors dni!! 

Request: “HELLOOOO! i have an idea and you don’t have to write it but it’s been rattling around in my brain and im never gonna write it (i constantly have way too many ideas to write them fr) myself so i figured i’d send it to you cause you’ve kinda restored my F1 phase with your work. basically, reader being very goofy, funny, and maybe a little bit too loud at times. just like a very silly and bubbly personality and she hangs out with some of the f1 boys (maybe because she’s famous in her own right like a dancer or something) so naturally EVERYONE ships her with lando. like hardcore, almost as bad as one direction fans ships (iykyk), and it sorta makes sense cause when they’re together it’s pure and utter chaos and they both express themselves with physical touch B U T ! she’s actually with charles. to her it makes total sense to be with charles instead of lando cause while lando is definitely attractive he’s too much like her and it’d be like dating herself whereas charles brings out a new calm side to her and she can bring out a goofier side to him. opposites attract type shit😭. maybe a little angst cause charles hates seeing all the edits and also feels a little insecure cause lando and reader DO make sense together in his mind so why’d you pick him instead? then like soft fluff/smut reassurance that charles is literally the man of her dreams, a literal fucking prince, and the best person she’s ever been with. ANYWAYS, im rambling! again, you don’t have to write this if you don’t connect with it or don’t have time i just needed an outlet SOMEWHERE for all the F1 brain rot.”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i first of all want to start by saying that i’m very sorry that this isn’t exactly like the request, like at all, but it took me a criminal amount of time to actually get this finished so we’re not going to focus on that. okay? okay, great!! in all and all it was actually quite fun to work on this at the beginning, it was just kinda hard for some reason to work on the actual smut part, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Charles wouldn’t call himself a possessive person, not a chance. He might be ambitious, and competitive, but possessive? That, he is not. He’s never been the type of get jealous of his partner’s friends, whether male or female, because he likes to think that he is mature enough to understand that people have friends. It’s that simple. And he is most definitely not the type of person to comment on what you wear when you’re going out, he is just not that guy. He’s fairly certain that his mother would materialise out of thin air and give him a good beating if he were to do that. So when you asked him about the dress you have on earlier before you left his apartment, the one that clings to your body so tightly that he can practically make out the outline of your tits from across the room? He just smiled and told you to have fun tonight – because he’s there to make sure you’re not put off by anyone staring at you in it.

So yeah. He’s not usually the type to let the jealousy take over his ability to think things out rationally, but when his girlfriend is dancing her heart away in the middle of the dance floor while every red-blooded men watch her with the same look in their eyes? Yeah, it’s not easy to keep his emotions in check at the moment given the circumstances. And it’s not that he even intends to pout like a petulant child at the bar, making sure to keep an eye on you, it’s just that he is an expressive person and his face reflects what he’s feeling that well. Totally because of that. It’s scary how utterly focused he is on you, watching your every move to make sure no one is bothering you, though you don’t seem to be in need of his help as he watches you dance with one of the girls you met when you first arrived to the club – and with Lando, though he tries not to focus on that part too much.

It's fine, though, he tries to make himself believe, it’s fine as long as you’re having fun. Though that doesn’t necessarily stop him from throwing daggers into Lando’s direction as covertly as he can. The way he has a friendly arm around you is driving him crazy, and he is not above stomping over there to pull you under his arm, drag you to the nearest bathroom and– Well, maybe he shouldn’t get too far ahead of himself just yet.

“They look good together, no?” He hears someone ask him from the side. He realises it is his teammate when he turns to give the person a glare.

“Who?” He asks, deciding to play dumb, but he can’t help himself as he makes a face while focusing his gaze back on you.

“You know who I’m talking about, cabrón!” Carlos exclaims, laughing as he pats him on the back and points to the two of you with a tilt of his head, “I’m glad he’s finally doing something about it rather than sulking around like a geriatric toddler.”

If he would have turned around any faster, Charles is sure his neck would actually, possibly, break. “What?” he spits out as he turns around, “Do you mean her and Lando?”

Carlos gives his teammate a confused look, “Yes,” he drawls out, “you didn’t know he had a crush on her? I thought the entire paddock knew!” Charles feels a surge of disbelief and a tinge of anger bubbling within him.

He wouldn't call it possessiveness, more like a primal instinct to protect what's his. But this revelation catches him off guard, shattering his carefully constructed facade of nonchalance. With doing his best to keep calm under the situation, he asks, “Are you sure you’re not making things up? I feel like you’re misreading the situation here.”

That receives another confused look from his teammate, and though Charles is quite the perceptive person, he misses Carlos starting to put the pieces together – thanks to his overreaction. “I guess so,” Carlos mumbles, loud enough for Charles to hear him in the loud club, “he’s always talking about her, though. The way she smiles, her hair, her dresses; did you know he even went to see one of her performances in Vegas?” Carlos feels bad, really, but there is also something so fulfilling in confirming his theories as he watches his teammate’s eyes bulge out at the mention of one of your dance shows in Vegas. Because Charles knows what those entail.

“I-in Vegas?” He stutters out, eyes moving to focus on your dancing figure again. And at that moment, he absolutely hates Lando. He hates him for having his arms around you, he hates him for dancing with you to the beat in a rhythm he never seems to be able to keep up with, he hates him for the way everybody seems to think the two of you seem to make a handsome couple, and he absolutely hates him for the way he makes you smile.

Charles Leclerc is not a possessive guy – until it comes to you, that is.

“Charles?” He hears Carlos call out his name, but he’s out of his seat long before he can hear the end of his sentence. He doesn’t mean to stomp across the dance floor to get to you. He really doesn’t. He also doesn’t mean to grab you by your arm and put a pause on your fun. And the smile you give him and the way you wrap your arms around his neck while you call him ‘Charlie’? Makes his heart stutter in a way that makes him forget why he ever came over in this first place. Because this should be normal – you, having male friends and spending time with them should not make him insecure. He should be fine with you and Lando spending time together because you both love the hustle and bustle of a club. But at that moment, he doesn’t care about what should be normal, no. He cares about the fact that someone other than him has managed to make you smile, and that he needs to remind you that he’s the only one who should be on the receiving end of all your smiles.

So when he drags you away from the dancefloor (and Lando, for that matter), he doesn’t listen to your objections. He doesn’t care about the way Carlos is watching from his place from the bar, putting all the pieces together as he shares a look with Lando. And he most definitely doesn’t care about the fact that he’s about to fuck you in the club’s bathroom. Well, maybe he does care about that last part. “Charlie,” you whine, your voice clearly scratched from shouting along the lyrics of the songs playing throughout the night, and he doesn’t miss the way you slur his name ever so slightly – which tells him that you had at least two drinks. Cosmopolitans, if he had to guess. “Pleaaase,” you drag out the word, pulling on his shirt to get his attention, “they are playing my song!”

His first mistake is to look at you, because the way your lips form a pout and the way you’re giving him puppy dog eyes is usually strong enough for him to give in. Though this is no usual situation. So instead of moving the two of you back to the dancefloor, he grabs you by your cheeks and presses his lips against you. In the middle of the club, where everybody can see him doing it. The way his lips move against yours is aggressive, and you’re definitely out of breath when he does move away. Cosmopolitans, he realises after tasting you. You've had cosmopolitans. Then, he just gives you a look, threads his fingers through yours and raises an eyebrow. Then he asks, “Are you going to be a good girl and come with me now, or should I do this the hard way and just carry you on my shoulder?”

If this was any other situation, you would totally say something bratty back. Hell, you might have actually said something rude if it meant him being rough with you, maybe spanking you a few times just enough times for you to learn your lesson. But you understand that this is no ordinary situation from his voice and the expression on his face. Charles is like that, you suppose. He’s an open book – meaning that it is very easy to understand what kind of a mood he’s in just by looking at his face, or listening to the undertone of his voice. And right now? Right now you know he’s pissed. You don’t necessarily know what you did, nor do you care. Mainly because all you want to do is make him feel better simply because of the reason that he is one of those people who’s just meant to smile at all times, not frown.

And so you nod gingerly, squeaking out a thimble, “Yes.” You finally meet his eyes as you wrap yourself around his arm, pushing yourself closer to him in the crowded club. “I’ll be good.”

This thumb does that thing where he caresses your knuckle, and he starts moving you through the crowd again. This time, however, you try to stick to him by matching the speed of his steps rather than trying to stay back. You told him you’d be good, you intend to keep your promise. He’s quiet all the way to the bathroom, and he’s quiet when he motions you to get inside, and he’s quiet when he closes to door and promptly locks it behind your back. You think for a moment you’re just there for a chat, maybe about that something you might’ve done, but Charles takes you by surprise as he grabs your waist and pushes you against the door, causing your eyes to widen with realisation of what you’re about to do in that bathroom.

“Charles, what’s wrong?” You try to ask, but he shuts you up with another kiss. And if you thought the previous kiss was aggressive, this one absolutely consumes you. He doesn’t even give you a fighting chance as his tongue quickly dominates yours, and he is relentless as he nips at your lower lip. You can’t help the mortifying moan that leaves your lips, and you push him away to inhale deeply. “What has gotten into you?” You ask, eyes wide due to the adrenaline coursing through your veins, “What happened?”

“You, happened.” He growls. And by that, you mean that he actually growls. His voice is a few octaves deeper than his usual voice, and you can see that he’s snappy. There is this dark look in his eyes that would otherwise scare you if you didn’t know him, but you do. Because he’s your Charles.

And you know this because the quickly leans into your touch when you bring one of your hands up to cup his cheek, giving him a confused look. “Did I do something?” You ask, voice soft amidst the humid bathroom. “Oh my god, is it my dress? Is it too short?” Your eyebrows draw closer as you start properly spiralling. “I knew I should’ve worn the shorts, why didn’t you say something?”

Your mini monologue about your party attire must have struck a chord because Charles suddenly exhales heavily, his forehead resting against yours as he closes his eyes. “No, non, it's not about the fucking dress,” he lashes out, his voice strained, and lace with something else that you can’t quite catch. “I don’t care what you wear, though I do appreciate the easy access.”

“Easy access?” You repeat, testing out the words as you come to a realisation. “What?” You exclaim, quickly taking your hand away from his face to lightly slap at his chest. “No! We are definitely not doing that here, are you out of your mind? You pulled me away because you can’t keep it in your pants until we’re home?”

“And why not?” He asks, and this time, you can see the unbridled rage behind his look. “Would you rather go back to Lando out there? You looked quite happy in his arms after all.”

And the realisation dawns on you right then and there. That this isn’t about your choice of dress for the evening, no. It is about Lando. Though you don’t get that part, since he’s both of your friend, so why is Charles being like this? And you would ask him, of course. But the look he gives you indicates that he doesn’t want to be tested in that exact moment.

So instead, you attempt to calm him down, by dragging your hand gently down his chest and wrapping your arms around his middle. He is like that, your Charles, sometimes he just wants to be held to see reason. “Charlie,” you call out, voice soft as you give him a pleading look, “why don’t you tell me what this is about, hm?”

You think he’s going to finally give in for a moment, but then he just gives you a blank stare. “I don’t want to talk,” he grunts, pulling you flush against him by the hands he has on your waist. His lips are on your neck faster than you can say anything, working his way towards your collarbones. The faint whimpers that come out of your lips bring a small smile to his lips knowing that he’s the one causing them, not Lando or any other guy.

“Charles,” you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair as his lips trail along your skin. Despite the confusion and frustration swirling within you, you can't deny the way his touch ignites a fire deep within you, consuming your thoughts and leaving you breathless with desire. But as much as you crave his touch, you know that there are unresolved issues between you, issues that need to be addressed before you can fully give yourself to him in this moment. “Charlie,” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper as you gently push against his chest, urging him to stop. “Stop, we need to talk about this.”

“Talk about what?” He asks, all breathy and with a wild look in his eyes. You can see that he’s trying to hold himself back, but at the same time his hands keep moving on your body in a way that makes you want to let him lose control and perhaps even join him. He successfully ignores your attempts at pushing him away, sliding his hands down on your body to grab the hem of your dress, clenching the material in his hand while dragging it upwards on your thighs until he reaches the soft skin of your stomach. “I have a thing in mind which might help me feel better.” Unable to take your eyes off of him, you take a stuttered breath as you watch him slowly get down on his knees, his lips pressing kisses starting form your sternum continuing down your body over your dress until you feel his lips on the exposed skin of your stomach. His kisses stop once he’s met with the top lining of your underwear, looking at you with a mischevious glint in his eyes as he nips at the nimble lace adorning the top. You call out his name in a weak whimper – though it is not clear to you, nor him, whether you’re asking him to stop or go on. Charles decides to go with the latter. “You know what to say if you want me to stop.”

You don’t really need his reminder, you realise, but it is a welcome one. Your cheeks blush even further when you feel his gaze on you as he lowers his face towards your core, leaving a sweet kiss onto your clit through the fabric of your thong. Suddenly, you want nothing more than to just rip to whole thing apart so there is nothing separating you from him, but you know the game, and you especially know that the ending is sweeter than what you could ever imagine at that moment. And so you wait – you wait until he eventually makes his move and gives your slit a generous lick through the fabric. Watching you is equal parts thrilling and painful, mainly because he wants to drag out his teasing as long as possible just to see you falling apart for him. It’s second nature to you, the way your hand threads through his hair to move him the way you want to, but it is of course not an option because it’s Charles who is in charge.

He makes this known by the way he pulls away, ignoring the way your hands scramble to guide him back to where you want him to be. He nips at the skin of your thigh in a warning manner, pulling a whine from your lips as he fixes you with a look, “You’re not in control tonight, mon bijou, I’ll stop if you try to take over. You got that?” It’s sobering to see him take control in such a way, you sweet little Charles. Usually, he has no problem just laying back and letting you take all the control, or even just making you believe you do. But now? With the way he’s looking at you with such hunger? You know you’d be soaking through your underwear if you weren’t so wet for him already. All you can do is offer him a meek nod, with your lips hanging open in shock, but he is not satisfied with your answer. No, he needs to hear you say the words. So, being the initiative person that he his, he tips at your skin again, this time earning himself a whimper along a grumble about how he’s being unreasonable. He isn’t, but that’s a topic to discuss another time, he decides. “I said, you got that?”

“Yes! Fine, yes!” You whine, grabbing your dress even tighter with your fist that isn’t buried in his hair, “Please just make me come.”

“See?” He asks, flashing you a sweet smile as he lowers his face back onto where you need him the most, “It wasn’t that hard now, is it?” The grumble about how he’s about to be the hard one, makes him chuckle to himself, the rumbling from it making you moan his name as he finally gives you what you want. His tongue works fast as he laps on the wetness through your underwear, soaking the material even more without a care in the world. If you weren’t wet before, you’re sure you’re definitely wet as he drags his tongue through your slit and back onto your clit to suck it through the fabric, causing you to let out a string of moans, each getting considerably louder as he works on your cunt.

The breath is knocked out of your lungs as the moments pass, as you become closer and closer to your impending release. You don’t even notice the fact that you’ve started to move your hips to match the rythym of his tongue, seeking something more to make you tip over the edge. You’re also very aware of the fact that Charles is letting you what you want to do, and though you’re scared out of you midn that he’ll stop like he threatened to do before, the little nod he gives you when you give him a pleading look assures you that he also wants you to come undone on his face.

Or so you’ve thought.

Because he knows your body so well that jus as you’re about to come he pulls back, leaving you high and dry, and even has the nerve to chuckle when he hears his name coming out of your mouth in a high pitched whine. You’re so lost in the moment that you almost miss the way he gently grabs your hands and removes them from his hair, pinning them above you and pushing you against the wall. “Why?” You whine, lips pushed out in a pout as your voice gets gradually whinier, “I was so close, Charles.”

“Oh, baby,” he cooes, “I know you were, I could feel it too.” He starts peppering your feverish skin with kisses, as if to say sorry for leaving you on the brink of an orgasm, and you find yourself arching your neck to expose more of your skin to his skillfull lips. You should stop him, some part of you screams to you in your head, because with the way he’s disguising the fact that he’s marking you with hickeys, but you don’t care at that moment. Your every breath and moan seem to motivate him to work faster, and harder, and when he eventually pulls back to leave a bruising kiss on your lips. A smirk finds its way onto his lips as he gives you an eyeing down, taking in how breathless you look. “Don’t worry, mon bijou, I’ll fuck you now, okay?”

You don’t even realise the nod you give him, too lost in his eyes to put words together to form a proper sentence. He’s gentle with you as he lets go of your hands and positions you the way he wants. With one of your legs wrapped around his hip he has better access to your soaked underwear, his fingers working quickly to pulling it aside. You don’t know when he managed to get himself free from his pants and underwear, but that doesn’t stop you from letting out a loud moan when you feel the tip of his cock circling your clit. “Please, please, please,” your voice cracks as you frantically beg him to do something more. You’d love nothing more than to scold him for the way he shushes you condescendingly, but any complaint you had evaporates when you feel him nudge your entrance. “Please,” you breathe out again, giving him pleading looks as you try to pull him closer somehow, “You promised me you’d fuck me.”

That manages to pull out a beathy chuckle for him, and as if he’s trying to console you, you feel his fingers gently caressing the skin of your hip. “Why don’t you do it yourself, hm?” A grin widens on his lips when you give him a look of confusion, and he leads one of your hands between your bodies for you to wrap it around his cock. “You want me inside you, right?” He rewards your tentative nod with a series of kisses down the column of your throat, “Come on then,” he mumbles into your skin, “put it in, pretty girl.” Exhaling a shaky breath, you keep your eyes on him as you guide him through your entrance. A gasp is torn from your lips when you feel his tip entering you, the initial stretch being more overwhelming because of the fact that you’re standing up. But Charles is quick to soothe you with his kisses down your neck, letting you control the rhythym and how further he can move inside you at first. With your hand making its way down to his hip, pressing him close to you, he quickly gets the message that you’re ready for him. “You’re ready?” He double-checks, raising his head to fix his eyes to yours.

“I swear to god if you don’t fuck me right now–” Your words are interrupted when you feel him move his hips back, just enough to have his tip inside you, and then he snaps his hips forward to thrust back in, making your breath hitch at the back of your throat. It doesn’t take very long for you to become a moaning mess, in fact, you’re more than ready to fall apart for him then and there, but you know he won’t let you until he gets his point across.   

“Look at you, mon bijou,” Charles darkly chuckles, hips matching the rhythym of the song playing outside at the dance floor, “what would people think if they saw you being such a mess for me in a club’s bathroom?” And the whine you let out in response to his question nothing if pathethic, but you can’t find it in you to care because of how good he’s making you feel. “Yes?” He prompts you, mocking the whiny ‘Yes’, that leaves your mouth before you start begging him to let you come. But he doesn’t, because he knows you can hold it until he’s ready for you too, and he tells you just that.

“So good, Charlie, so good,” you can’t help the broken moans you let out as he fucks you to the brink of an orgasm. But that is not enough for him, no. He needs everyone to know the two of you are together now, needs to get out all of his pent up frustrations out.

So when the opportunity presents itself with Lando knocking on the door asking if you are okay? A knowing smirk find its way onto his lips, and you try to silently plead with him with your eyes. “You want to cum?” He whispers in your ear, his thrusts becoming faster. “Say my name if you want to come, baby.”

“Please–” You gasp, hands grabbing the shirt he’s wearing. It’s no avail even if you try to keep your voice down. Because when Charles finds a way to slither his hand down between your legs and starts rubbing your clit in firm circles? You know there is no way you can stay quiet through your orgasm. “Why?” You manage to get out, “God, Charles please.”

“Tell me who’s making you feel so good, pretty girl.” He encourages you, his rhythym now almost brutal as he tries his best to make you come for him. “Come on, tell me who you belong to.” He chuckles darkly when he sees you shaking your head. “It’s not Lando, it’s me. You hear that?” Uh-huh, is the only answer he receives in return, but he is of course not satisfied with it. So, he gently pinches the inside of your thigh. “Tell me who’s going to make you come, or I’ll stop.”

“N-no!” You exclaim, too overwhelmed to see that his threat is an empty one, because he would never actually do something like that to you. “Please, please don’t stop.”

“Come on,” he cooes, the sweet words he whispers into your skin making you more and more malleable to his request. “Say my name baby, let me hear you.”

“Charles,” your loud moan cuts the heavy air in the bathroom. Cheeks flushed, breath unorganised and with that wild look in your eyes? There’s nothing Charles wouldn’t do for you. With every move of his hips, you moan his name louder, eventually tipping over the edge as he feels you squeezing his cock so tight that he almost loses himself then and there.

That’s not to say he doesn’t, of course. Because just as you’re about done with your orgasm, you feel him come inside you, chanting your name alongside mine, mine mine. It takes a long time for the both of you to get back to your senses, but he’s extremely gentle with you as he helps you down and fixes your underwear. You find yourself snuggling up to him when he eventually takes you into his arms after fixing his own clothing, nuzzling your nose to his neck. “You know, I think I like the jealous side of you.” You mumble, leaving a few kisses across his jaw.

“Yeah?” He asks, a breathy chuckle leaving him as he cradles your face with both of his hands, his thumbs caressing the apples of your cheeks.

“Yeah.” You nod, giving him a small smile, “But I need you to take me home, please, I can feel your cum dripping down my leg.”

“Oh baby,” he coos, tutting as he slides his hands down your body to grab you by the waist, “we’re not going home, it would be rude to leave our friends by themselves. Don’t you think so?” The flabbergasted look that you give him makes another chuckle come from his lips as he slowly turns you towards the door. His lips find the junction between your neck and shoulder again as he announces, “We’re going to go back out there, and we’re going to dance. We wouldn’t want you to miss your song now, would we?”

And when he opens the bathroom door and you hear the first words to a Rihanna song you love? You know it’s going to be a long night ahead of you.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC How to Train Your Chaos

Okay, so, Tiny Creature, but it's not Danny, it's Ellie. And she fell out from a natural portal, which are Lazarus Pits in DC dimension. And League picked her up.

Now, Danny might try fighting out of the situation or communicating with someone, or whatever else his anxious teenage ass is capable of doing while he is locked in a Tiny Creature state. Ellie, though? She would take the opportunity to create as much chaos as she could. After all, if she decides she wants to go back, she can always call for Danny, or plain phase through the walls, and jump back into the natural portal since it seems pretty stationary.

But, as a free spirit with a knack for exploring and mischief, she would never miss a chance to mess with a whole base of assassins!

After a month of continuous bullshit caused by the little pit demon (and some new gray hairs), Ra's decides he's had enough. This creature is useless and troubling. How does he get rid of it?

Wait, Damian loves pets.

Cue Damian arriving in Nanda Parbat or wherever Ellie appeared, immediately falling in love with the new weird pit-demon-lizard-cat, spending a week trying to get on its friendly side while Ellie is just having fun making him run around the place, but eventually she agrees to go with Damian to Gotham - hey, it's a new place and a lot of new people to terrorize, the assassins are getting used to her antics already! - and enthusiasticly blending in with the Bats' weirdness.

Platonic or romantic doesn't matter, just imagine Damian jumping down from the roof in front of some goon, sword in hand:

Damian: I do not want to waste my time on this, even my cat could deal with you

Goon: excuse me, I know you're, like,The Stabby Robin, but a cat-

Ellie, a Tiny Creature made of nightmares, her definitely human smile filled with sharp teeth, in a fake cat-voice: mrrr-meow?

Goon: ..........I changed my mind, how about I just head to the nearest police station, bye

[kyletogaz]

uni student kyle who corners you in one of the aisles of the library when you least expect it. you’re so focused on selecting a book off the shelf, you don’t even hear his footsteps approaching.

“is that part of the curriculum?” a familiar voice asks right by your ear, almost giving you a damn heart attack.

brown eyes watch you in amusement when you clutch at your chest. you stare at kyle, equal parts shocked and confused. what the hell was he doing here? and in this particular section of the university’s library anyway. it’s obvious he’s up to no good if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.

you straighten up with a huff and attempt to put some distance between the both of you. there is absolutely no reason for kyle to be breathing down your neck like this. “can i help you?” you ask flatly, already wishing he would leave you the hell alone.

“every time i see you, you’ve got a stick up your ass,” kyle responds, before bullying his way into your space as you try to fend him off with your book.

“get out of my face, garrick!” you spit at him, your grip tightening on the book with every word you speak. you’ll smack him with it if you have to.

and much to your dismay, kyle plucks the book out of your hands and moves closer, until there’s barely any room between you two and he has you pressed up against the bookshelf.

“you know, i wonder how you’d act if you had something else up your ass instead.” he barks out a laugh right in your face when your eyes widen and your mouth falls open in shock.

the shock dissipates immediately and is replaced with anger. you’re not sure if it’s kyle’s words, or his laugh that sets you off, but you find yourself raising a knee anyway. you’re about to jab him in the balls, when his big warm hand grips your thigh to stop you. you open your mouth to rage at him, but then kyle lifts your leg up and then out so he can hook it around himself.

you have to press your lips together so you don’t embarrass yourself by doing something crazy, like whimpering, or worse. i really need to get laid, you think to yourself as you try to wiggle your leg out of his grasp.

kyle doesn’t let you escape though. “you’re gonna have to try harder than that, babe,” he laughs, showing off his pearly whites.

“fuck you!” you hiss out quietly, not wanting to cause a disturbance. you just want this man to leave.

“that’s what i’ve been trying to do since the day we met, sweetheart,” he says, his tone sounding far too sweet to your ears. “but you’ve been too mad at me to notice.”

“yeah, and whose fault is that?” you snap at him. “all you do is piss me off and cause chaos wherever you go, garrick.” he may have everyone else on campus under his spell, but that shit won’t work on you.

you almost laugh when when he gives you a look feigning hurt.

“thought you liked them mean,” he murmurs, while thinking about that bird with the purple hair he saw you kissing last semester.

you scoff at him. kyle doesn’t know shit about you, and you want to keep it that way. already growing tired of the conversation, you reach for his hand and forcefully remove it from your thigh, while hissing at him to never touch you again.

“not even a little?” kyle coos, before laughing softly when you tense up and look away from him. “why are you always so uptight? would my cock help?”

what?

“what?” you choke out, not believing you’d heard him correctly the first time.

kyle continues to speak as if he didn’t hear you at all. “what about my mouth? or my fingers?”

all you can do is stare at him in disbelief. he’s serious about this, you can see it in his eyes. and that’s when you know this conversation needs to end, because his ass is crazy.

“you are out of your mind if you think i’m gonna let you fuck me, kyle.”

and when kyle murmurs, we’ll see about that, you bolt.

“evil, nasty man,” you mumble to yourself as you rush towards the exit.

kyle is still in the aisle you left him in when you’re long gone. he’s standing there with a big stupid grin on his face. “she called me kyle.”

you’d been so annoyed with his ass, you didn’t notice your own slip up, and now he had something to use against you.

-

kyle’s masterlist | uni-verse masterlist | main masterlist

[thesaart]

With laughter I pay thee

Giovanni just like Sampo and Sparkle is an incredibly interesting character. One thing I find fascinating is how those three actually enact their different ideas of elation. Sparkle is distractive not really caring if she hurts others because for her being completely free is what elation is. Sampo is secretive and calculating, not telling anyone that he's a fool so truly you can never be sure what he's gonna do next or even truly, what his idea of elation is. And Giovanni creates playgrounds and just lets others have fun, use what he can give and see what they can do with it. You could also read the way how they enact their understanding of elation in maybe the broader idea of how outsiders would think about the fools. Some will think that they are nothing more but destructive chaos loving people who care about nothing but to use the name of an aeon so they can cause havoc wherever they go. Others may immediately be suspicious of them because truly can you trust the words of people who hide so much behind masks, that you may never even see them without one metaphorically as well as literally. And then maybe some don't take them seriously at all, only seeing the fools as a group of people that just pull pranks, show up at parties and have fun.

[ayanominitrash]

INTRIGUE (True Form Sukuna x Reader)

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

Humans.

Though weak creatures, they cause chaos wherever and whatever era. It only seems like the only consistent thing in this world. They crawl like the desperate pathetic ants they are, forever struggling to survive day by day. The other idiot ants feel superior to the others, taking advantage of their power that they’d go so far as to take the food that others worked hard to haul onto the hill only for them to have it for themself.  Corruption. No matter the age, Ryomen Sukuna - King of Curses- has witnessed the same thing over and over again. It’s getting a little tiring to look at. 

This is the exact description that anyone in the village would put in the Kamo clan - the corrupt and tyrant rulers. They are wealthy and at the top of the power hierarchy, the very source of corruption, of abuse. The men in the family would beat, abuse, and take advantage of their blood relatives. Some are sold, adding more riches to their unnoble stockpile of treasure. To any lowlife they come across and feel like harassing, they would do so through pain and torture or even just public humiliation just for fun. There wasn’t any person that was brave enough to stand up against them. They were the only ones who were capable of protecting them from curses that would invade them from time to time. The people in that village are under their mercy. Where else can they go when there are curses out there beyond, not knowing how many are out threading freely?

Sukuna sighs in exasperation as he remains squatting on a tree branch, overlooking the nearby village under the bright sun. Sukuna hides in the forest, far away enough that humans wouldn’t loiter around much but close enough that he can watch what goes on in that small puny community. If he does encounter a human, his terrifying four-armed figure will be the last thing that they’d see before their demise. However, in recent days, there haven’t been a lot of humans threading deep into the forest because of the rumors that people who go there never return. Because of this, he hasn’t eaten for weeks and is currently starving for meat. Sukuna debates if it is time to raid the village to satiate his hunger and quench his thirst for blood. 

As if on queue, there was a rustle from the bushes nearby and a familiar scent carried in the wind to which Sukuna wasted no time but to take it all in with one big whiff. It’s the scent that he’s been longing for so long.

Food.

He makes his move, swinging his four arms from one branch to another as quietly as possible, making his way toward the delicious smell. He won’t be bothered to check if this one’s good meat, the only thing he cares about is to quiet down the rumbling of his stomach. When he reaches a safe enough distance, he crouches down his big frame behind one of the bushes near the small river stream. Sukuna’s red eyes shine against the sun as soon as it lands on his meal, licking his lips. 

It was a small girl with short hair, the bottom of her purple kimono neatly folded as she was squatting down at the side of the stream, running a hand in the water while staring in silence. She has her back turned to him as she hums a tune to herself. This was a very easy and effortless catch for Sukuna, a little girl with her guard down. He doubted that he would feel full after ingesting her whole being but it was better than nothing.  The King crouched down and waited, getting ready to pounce until he finally did with a deafening roar. 

Sukuna lands where she is, thinking he has crushed her. He was ready to dig his fingers into her body when he realized that he didn’t hear any screaming and that there was no one underneath him. Confused, he looks around only to see the girl had dogged him and is now holding her hands up.  This completely baffled Sukuna as he stared at the girl’s shocked but not scared face.

“E-easy there, I don’t intend to harm you. I’m sorry if I wandered too far into your territory.” She says in a high-pitched shaky voice. “I-I know you must be h-hungry. I’m actually carrying hens in the b-basket I’m carrying, if that would suffice”

Watching the girl talk made his blood boil. How dare she outwit him by dodging his attack? He would’ve consumed her by now if it weren’t for her eagerness to live. The foolish human thinks she can talk her way out of getting eaten by the King of Curses. He runs towards her, claws extended in front of him when she jumps out of the way again but this time, he can grab her by the foot. She yelps in pain at what he thought because of his grip but he looks down and sees a massive bruise on her ankle. It looked like it had been there for a few days so it couldn’t be because of him. She screams and lands on the shallow side of the water, wetting her hair, face, and upper body. He drags her leg towards him, laughing at the way she digs her fingers into the soil trying to stop herself from getting dragged. With ease, he lifts her upside down with one hand, satisfied with the way her Kimono drops down exposing her slender legs and undergarments.

“Oi, oi, oi! That’s no way to treat a lady, Mister!” She makes an effort to shake her fist at him despite being upside down. “P-please, maybe you should try the hen first?!”

The gull of this human to keep talking as if her life was not about to end made him stop in his movements to look down on her. Her face is panicked but not scared. This takes the fun out of killing her but he’s really after the food instead of the thrill. Still, Sukuna has never encountered a girl who acted this way. It was always screaming, crying, and flailing their hands which made it all the more delicious when he finally sank his sharp teeth into their flesh, silencing the pathetic pleas. Still holding her upside down, his eyes curiously do a double take on this peculiar filth he managed to catch. The little girl, no, this young woman had bruises, burns, and cuts all over her limbs. Some wounds have already been scars but others are still healing. The curse thought this person was a little girl but no doubt she was a woman with her mature figure and breasts. It was just that she was incredibly thin as if the concept of food was never introduced to her. Sukuna knows that he told himself before he attacked that he wasn’t gonna bother with the quality of this meat, but this made him lose his appetite. But mostly, he was curious about what this filth went through, and why doesn’t she act as if life was taken from her, like an empty shell. Instead, she has a wild and bright spirit in her that burns his eyes. It was. . . interesting.

He drops her to the ground.

“See, see! Hens do sound good if you just give it a chance. Come, come!” The woman scrambles to her feet to reach for the basket near the stream. She whips it around and offers it to him, with a hopeful smile on her face or a grateful one for having shown mercy. “They’re fresh from my uncle’s farm!” 

He stares at this ridiculous scene in front of him for a moment before crossing both pairs of his arms. “Get that fucking thing out of my face, you filthy being. What do you take me for?” 

The curse’s deep menacing voice was frightening enough that the young woman recoiled, pulling the hen back to her chest.  She was too stunned to say anything. 

“Well then, why didn’t you eat me if you didn’t want the hen?” 

This made Sukuna pull a dumbfounded face for her to talk to him so bluntly. He curls his lips in amusement, “You’re as filthy as they come, human. You’ve ruined my appetite with your disgusting state.”

“Hm?! Do you mean my injuries? I didn’t know curses were so picky.” She puts her hand on her chin as if in deep thought. 

“So you know what a curse is then, filth. Are you not afraid?”

“Should I be?” For the first time, there was a small smile on her lips as she stared up into the king’s eyes. “I’m well aware that people who enter the forest never come back and I know for sure that they’re eaten by curses. I didn’t think I’d encounter one so soon though, and it is the King himself, no less.”

It’s as if everything that comes out of this filth’s mouth was made to surprise Sukuna every time it opens. He still hadn’t come to terms with that this was all happening, so he couldn’t stop himself from laughing maniacally out loud out of the ridiculousness of it all, of his sharp teeth bearing in front of her. She flinches a little at the sight of him.

“You amuse me!” He finally says as soon as he stops laughing. “Bear to me your name, filth.”

She says her name in a small voice. 

“Never heard of you! Nonetheless, I shall not forget you, filth. I’m  still hungry and I’m still going to eat you despite how you are.” 

He laughs a little when he sees her shoulders drop and deflate at the realization that her life was not spared, the hen finally flies out of her grasp. 

“Uh- I know I came here knowing my fate but it seems that I'm afraid to die after all. I know you’re hungry. Are you alright with at least an arm? Or a leg? I can give you that much.” 

Again, he was taken aback by the words that left her lips once more. Before he can even say anything, she throws her left arm in his direction. “How about this arm?! There aren't many cuts here?” 

For the first time, Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses, was at a loss for words. He glares down at the odd creature in front of him, wondering what’s wrong with her. He takes a few steps back, widening the distance between them. After a few steps, he plops himself cross-legged on the ground. They carefully watch each other in silence, wary of each movement one of them makes. In the background, the hen she was once holding was leisurely bathing itself in the shallow end of the water. 

“Human,” Sukuna finally speaks to her, who flinches again. “Tell me, why are you decorated like a warrior and sickly thin like that of a twig?” 

The girl deflates in her seat again in the grass. She looked down at the stream and opted to go back to her position before Sukuna attacked her, one hand dipping in the water. Silence blankets them once more as she gathers her thoughts. 

“Hmmm. . .if you’re not going to eat me, then what are you planning to eat? Do you eat pigs?”

“I asked you a question, filth. I have yet to hear your answer.”

“- Because if you eat pigs, I could go ahead and grab one from the village and offer it to you. I don’t think I just leave knowing that you’re hungry if you’re kind enough not to kill me.”

“Are you not going to answer me?”

“Can I at least offer you something to eat first before I do?”  She gives a sheepish smile. “I know what it’s like not having anything to eat, as you can tell. My arm is still on the offer if that will help you.” 

“Bring me another human, then.” 

She was quiet for a bit, removing her hand from the water and then bringing it up to her chin in thought, not minding the water droplets dripping on her kimono since it was already messy from the earlier event. “Do you think an older lady will be okay? She’s on the brink of her death. She’s got a plump frame.”

Sukuna laughs again in amusement. “Do you have no regard for your kind? Oh, Humans!”

She shrugs, then grins, “I heard you like cooked humans. I can cook her for you if you’d like.”

His ears perk at this. It has been a while since he tasted cooked human meat. His previous servant was the only one who could cook for him and they have long since parted nearly a decade ago. His stomach growls at the mere suggestion of grilled meat. 

She lightly laughs, her eyes softening. “I take that as a yes. I can do that much for you for your kindness. You may find it odd for me to kill my kind, but honestly, I think it’s better to put her out of her misery. She was a great woman.” 

“How do I know you’ll come back, filth? I know, if you do not come back when the full moon rises, I will burn down your village.” 

Sukuna had a small inkling that she wouldn’t mind her village burning down, seeing how she is all covered in different types of injuries just from living there, but the mere mention of her village made the color drain from her face.

“Understood, then.” As the girl stands up with the basket full of hens, she makes an effort to dust off her kimono but it doesn't do anything. “Full moon it is!”

“Hurry up, fifth. I do not like waiting.” Sukuna says before standing up and walking back into the forest where he came from. 

⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

(❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡ reblogs and comments are appreciated//do not repost my work anywhere // this is one of my first Sukuna fics and I wrote this way back on March this year damn //not re-proofread so sorry if some parts dont make sense or some typa cringe lol

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— mission: chaos fc

↪ muchly requested second part to the previous chapter. I had so much fun writing the first bit, so why not give you guys a second part?

ps. there'll be more parts to this... its' not over yet!

Lets' go with chaos fc!

Thank you thank you thank you to @alotofpockets for helping me with the different ideas and code names, so much to write the mayhem!

pairings: kim little x reader, kyra cooney cross x reader

summary: just 2 best friends being pests together, and enlisting the help of the young guns to help them out

"Yoo-hoo," You call out as you open the door to Kyra's hotel room and walk in, plonking yourself down on her bed as you end up hearing the tail-end conversation of her phone call with Viv.

Ultimately, you know you should try and stay out of trouble. After all, that's what you promised Leah, and you really should keep your promise.

However, you're a known troublemaker and well, wherever you go, trouble tends to follow.

It's only a matter of time...

"Yikes, Vivi sounds mad with you," You can't help but joke and whistle lowly, moving back to relax on the Australians' girls bed with your arms propped up on the pillows. "How bad was it?" You question, curiously.

"She lectured me for what felt like forever," Kyra huffs in protest and slumps back down onto her bed, "It's bad enough I already had an earful from Steph and Caitlin!" She whines.

You wince a bit as you feel bad for her having to deal with that, "Well, if it makes you feel any better I had to deal with a right telling off from Leah and you know she can be scary as hell sometimes," You mumble, shuddering slightly, "And shes' even threatened to ban me eating sweets for a month if she finds out I've got in any more trouble. Oh and there was talk about a leash as well,"

"Right, so no more pranks then?" Kyra slumps her shoulders down in realisation.

"Well, Kimmys' definitely gonna be keeping a closer on us now," You remark, knowing that your Captain will have a watchful eye on you both.

The older Australian nods in agreement, "Yeah, and Steph and Catilin as well probably," She notes.

"Yeah-- I know!" An idea pops into your head as you bolt up from where you're lounging about on her bed, "We'll come up with code names! That way, we can lay low and cause trouble and none of the girls will have a clue that we're talkin' about them!" You personally think the idea's great and you know full well it'll help in your cause to be choatic still.

"That's geinus!" Kyra exclaims, impressed with your ability to think quickly about it.

"Well, you know, I can be pretty smart at times," You remark, jokely pretending to flick your hair back. "Right, we'll be known as... Eagle 1 and Eagle 2," You declare.

"Eagle?" Kyra furrows her eyebrow, confused by where you'd gotten that idea from.

"Uh huh," You nod in agreement with the older girl. "Kimmy will be Tiny, because well, its' kinda self explanatory," You tell her.

Kyra snickers at you making fun of your Captains' height, "Okay. What about Steph and Caitlin?" She questions.

"Caitlin will be known as Veggie, because of Vegemite and Steph will be known as Floof," You begin to reel of the different names, "Alessia will be known as uh, butterfingers!"

"Because of how clumsy she always is?" Kyra smirks at your imaginative nickname for the blonde striker and you nod in agreement, "Alright, what about Katie?" She wonders.

"Leprechaun, because there little shits like she is-- I mean, we're like that too, but shes' Irish as well so it fits better!" You explain your thought process, shrugging your shoulders, "Emily will be known as Fox, like the animal," You state.

"Simple but effective," Kyra remarks, keeping track of the different code names you're coming up with, "Cloe and Frida?"

You tap your finger against your cheek, "Hm, Laces and Magnum, Cloe's last name is hard to pronounce and Magnums' close to Manuum," You delclare, finding the situation amusing to no end, "Oooh. Teyah will be prodigcy, because you know, that's what Katie keeps referring to her as, and Katherine will be umm, Kool-Aid, like the drink!"

"Kool-Aid?" Kyra smirks in amusement as you just confirm your idea with a stuble nod of your head, "Oh, what about Vic?"

"Pancake," You answer without a single thought, "Cos' shes' Dutch and there's a thing called Dutch pancakes-- Oooh, I really want one of them right now!" You stare into space, thinking about them and all you want is one right now.

"Y/N focus," Kyra snaps her fingers in front of your face, trying to get your attention.

You jolt and shake your head suddenly, "Huh-- What... What're we talkin' about again?" You wonder, getting lost in your thoughts about desert already.

"Code names," Kyra reminds you as she laughs, "We still need to figure out the ones' for the rest of them. "What about Sarah and Jonas?" She adds.

"Sarah will be baguette, because shes' french... and Jonas will be Thanos," You're very adamant about the latter, "Because hes' a villian," You hadn't taken the news of Vivs' depature from the club exactly too well and you low-key would like to fight him at some point.

"Still mad about it, huh?" Kyra winces, remembering your reaction to Viv leaving the club wasn't that great.

"Don't want to talk about it. It still hurts," Alongside Katie being the head of the Vivianne Miedema fan club, you were a close second. You were devestated when she played the game in a Arsenal shirt for the last time.

"Pst, Kyra," You whisper and lean over your seat to not to gently nudge the girl to get her attention without being caught out by Kim or the rest of the 'responsible' older girls.

You're currently on the coach on the way to Marvel stadium ahead of the open training session where the fans would have the opportunity to watch you train ahead of the game against the all stars team.

Ever since the phone conversation with Leah, you had definitely been under closer watch and the threats that the blonde made were still fresh in your head as a reminder, and you'll be damned if you miss out on eating sweet treats, best behaviour or not.

But nobody ever said it was fun to always be good and you definitely weren't.

"Yeah?" The older girl turns her head to look at you.

"I have an idea of who can be the next victim of our prank," You give her a coy smile as you nudge your head slightly, "I say we mess with Laces," You gesture to the older girl whos' happily minding her own business.

Kyra smirks at your decision, "What've you got in mind?" She wonders.

You can't help but grin as you lean over the seat and cover your hand over your mouth to whisper to her, "We can sneak into the locker rom ahead of the rest of them. We'll hide the shin pads," You whisper quietly into her ear.

"Perfect," Kyra grins in agreement with your idea to cause chaos once again.

"What're you pair whispering about?" Kim eyes' the two of you suspiciously, hesistant to have even allowed you to both sit near each other.

"Nothing!" Your both quick to respond, acting completley innocent in the situation at hand.

"Mhm, make sure it stays that way!" Kim is less reluctant to simply let that answer slide so she keeps a more thorough check on you.

When the coach pulls up at the stadium, your quick to try and make a break for it, but your Captain doesn't seem to think the same idea, "Not so fast. I want you where I can keep an eye on you," She states, knowingly.

"Kimmmm, seriously?" You whine in protest, but the tight grip that she has on your upper bicep makes it difficult for you to break free like youn want to do.

"Come on," Kim pulls you in the direction of the press conference that shes' got with Jonas and Steph, forcing you to sit on the side where she can keep an eye on you still, "Stay there, don't move," She warns, patting your head ever so pratronisingly before she heads off to join them on the stage.

You can't say you were too fond of being forced to sit there and listen to the journalists ask questions, especially when Steph was poking fun at you directly for your bad habits of wandering off and getting into trouble. 

"This is boring," You mutter to yourself and slump down in the chair, while you kick your legs back and forth in annoyance at the situation you've found yourself in.

How long would it take for Kim to realise you'd got up and left?

Only one way to find out, you guess.

"Y/N!" Your names' barked loudly, causing you to freeze in your spot before you slowly spin around and try flash her an innocent smile, "Sit down!"

"Aw shucks," You mutter and flop back down in the seat, trying to ignore the stern look that Kims' giving you while laughter breaks out in the room from everyone else.

"Only our Y/N," Steph chimes in, amusedly.

You realise you're stuck now and you need to resort to desperate measures to ensure that the chaos still happens.

"Young Guns, your time has come!" You think to yourself as you pull your phone out of your pocket to enlist the help of the girls in the academy.

Y/N created the group: mission chaos fc 💥💣💀

y/n added kyra, mini viv and & mini katie & 4 others to the chat

y/n changed kyra's name to eagle 2 🦅🦅 y/n changed freya's name to godfather 😎 y/n changed maddie's' name to baddie 😅 y/n changed vivs' name to winger 🪽 y/n changed laila's name to ernie 🤪 y/n changed naomi's name to diver 🤿 y/n changed katie's name spencer 👀 y/n changed your name to eagle 1 🦅

eagle 1 🦅: young guns. i need your help! godfather 😎: uh... what's this? baddie 😅: why is my name baddie? winger 🪽: what's going on, y/n? ernie 🤪: i'm so lost. godfather 😎: heh, i actually kinda like mine... 😊 baddie 😅: speak for yourself 🙄 spencer 👀: why is my name spencer?👀 eagle 1 🦅: FOCUS YOUNG GUNS, I'M DEPENDING ON YOU!🫵🏼 diver 🤿: umm okay, i'm confused. ernie 🤪: yeah, your not the only one...🫠 winger 🪽: should i get one of the girls to come help you? spencer 👀: i think we should eagle 1 🦅: noooooooo! ⛔⛔⛔⛔ DO NOT GET ANY OF THE OLDER GIRLS!🙅🏼‍♀️🙅🏼‍♀️ i've been kidnapped, this is the plan... spencer 👀: if you've been kidnapped then we definitely need to tell someone! eagle 1 🦅: nooooo its' fine i'm stuck with mother kimmy and she won't let me out of her sight for the forseeable! i'm enlisting your help to join in on mission chaos fc, your time has come! diver 🤿: we should be concerned, right? godfather 😎: yeah, yeah... i think so eagle 1 🦅: your mission whether you choose to accept is up to you. the challenge is simple, i need you to go and hide laces shin pads. don't ask questions tho. do you wish to accept your mission? baddie 😅: whos' laces? 😕 eagle 1 🦅: I SAID NO QUESTIONS ooh right yeah, i realise now... uh its' cloe lacasse, baddie 😅: i'm down! diver 🤿: sure, why not spencer 👀: seems a bit risky... i don't know winger 🪽: we'll help you, eagle 1 🫡 eagle 2 🦅🦅 has entered the chat... eagle 2 🦅🦅 : y/n where are you? i can't find you-- have you been taken to the dark side? eagle 1 🦅: code names, eagle 2... i've been kidnapped by mother kimmy, the young guns' are now enlisted to help you out. i've got to go, my captivator is heading this way. good luck, live long and propser! 🫡 baddie 😅 : we won't let you down, eagle 1! eagle 2 🦅🦅: so long, partner... 🥲

© scribblesofagoonerr

[qqueenofhades]

-Runs back into the room from having been wrapped up in the Sub Shitshow- context PLEASE on what’s up with Putin!?

Lol okay buckle up:

Yevgeny Prighozin is (well, as of now) one of Putin's closest allies. He is Putin's former chef and now the CEO of Wagner Group, the Russian private army of mercenaries who have spent a decade plundering Africa and destroying Syria in the employ of various terrible local dictators. Since the invasion of Ukraine, Wagner has become one of the Russian army's mainstays, mostly because they're the only ones who seem able to actually do anything. Of course, it did still take them nine months to take Bakhmut, Ukraine's *checks notes* 53rd largest city with very little strategic value, but given what a shitshow the regular Russian army has been, that's good. Or something.

The Russian army is mostly good at destroying dams and bombing civilians, which are obviously terrible for many reasons, but not that useful in the military scheme of things.

However, Wagner are also -- I hasten to stress -- thoroughly terrible people. Aside from all the shit in Africa and Syria, they've done likewise in Ukraine and will continue to do so. Legally speaking, they technically "don't exist," which has allowed them to get around a lot of the usual rules and regulations that are supposed to "bind" (ha) the Russian army. They are obviously in Ukraine directly at Putin's behest and doing Putin's bidding, but it turns out that giving an ambitious and amoral psychopathic warlord his own private army of criminals, rapists, killers, and whoever else they can dredge out of Russia's prisons to throw at the front line and die en masse may not be a good idea?

Shocking, I know.

Anyway, Prigozhin has spent months ripping into the Russian Minister of Defense, Sergei Shoigu, for what a whole shitshow clusterfuck this whole stupid war patently is. (Not, however, that this has stopped him from continuing to eagerly carry it out, since he's just as much or indeed even more of a zealot as the rest of Putin's government.) This has included blaming Shoigu for equipment losses, underprovisioning of Wagner troops, general strategic numbnuttery, etc. Prigozhin has not, however -- again, until now -- attacked Putin directly, or backed off from getting his losers killed in Bakhmut and/or wherever else. One suspects that Putin has been perfectly happy to let Prigozhin scapegoat Shoigu for the war's failures, since this means Shoigu can always just conveniently fall out a window or something if it gets too necessary to make a public show of displeasure, and not Putin.

HOWEVER, things took a turn VERY FAST today, within about 12 hours. Prigozhin has, as noted, spent months tearing the Russian military leadership a new asshole -- not because he's a good guy (he's a fucking war criminal on like, 10 different levels), but because it is plainly obvious what a shitshow this is and even a war criminal has his limits as to how much totally pointless murderous bullshit he wants to go through, I guess. (That includes telling the truth about why the war started -- i.e. to steal Ukrainian stuff/land for the oligarchs, and not any of Putin's other stupid excuses.)

Today (June 23) Prigozhin accused the Russian Ministry of Defense of orchestrating a rocket attack on Wagner's camp in eastern Ukraine (near the Russian border) and causing massive casualties;

We don't have proof of this yet, or indeed much else of what Prigozhin is talking about, BUT he finally decided to put his Coup Hat On and get serious about "punishing" Russian military leadership, i.e. presumably Shoigu, declaring that "there are 25,000 of us [Wagner soldiers] and we're coming into Russia to sort out this chaos"

So -- again, according to Prigozhin, who is not the world's most reliable source on anything -- he turned his army of yoinks around, left Ukraine, and marched into the southwestern Russian city of Rostov-on-Don, where the Russian military command in charge of the assault on Ukraine is headquartered;

For a while, there was nothing but Prigozhin's various unhinged rants on Telegram to prove any of this, but it's now early tomorrow morning in Russia and there are indeed a lot of videos of what DOES IN FACT LOOK like Wagner mercenaries rolling into Rostov and storming Ministry of Defense buildings;

Firm information on what is going on is almost nonexistent, even for Russia, but Putin is clearly taking this seriously; Moscow is shut down, there are armored vehicles on the streets, Google is down in Russia, and Russian newscasters are interrupting their broadcasts to insist Don't Look, Everything Is Fine Here, Totally Fine, Do You Hear Swan Lake? I Don't Hear Swan Lake!

Nobody can find Putin either, allegedly, but don't worry! He has been "briefed on the situation and everything is under control!"

The Russian FSB (successor to the KGB) has meanwhile issued a warrant for Prigozhin's arrest, said they'll charge/prosecute him for treason and armed rebellion against the state, and ordered him to stand down/his own men to arrest him

This, uh, does not appear to be working

ANYWAY, Putin's basically fucked no matter how this ends. Wagner literally just led an armed mutiny, he can't feel good about sending his ex-bestie Prigozhin back to Ukraine with any confidence that his orders will continue to be obeyed, it's Russian-on-Russian open war in the streets of Rostov and God knows where else, he's totally lost control of the narrative, the war, the domestic political situation, Wagner, probably good chunks of the Russian military command/elite establishment, etc., and we all know what happens to dictators in Russia who can no longer dictate

(And yet the Russian army is still finding time to lob some missiles at civilian buildings in Kyiv tonight, because they suck).

This is obviously a huge lucky break for Ukraine as well, since if the Russians are busy fighting each other, they can continue to push for a big breakthrough on their counteroffensive.

So yeah. Pride Month really wheeling out the big guns here, after Putin was the top option picked for Lady Karma to do her thing on in my poll a few weeks ago.

Stay tuned.

[lovrre]

-All’s fair in love and war

Prt1. Jacaerys velaryon x fem black Targaryen

Word count: 2k

Summary: Daughter of Daemon, twin to Baela, you always felt like an outsider, too much like your father yet somehow simultaneously not enough. You thought you had no place until Jacaerys, years later, and a injured wrist brings you back to where you truly belong.

Warnings: maybe a curse word, lots of Angst, slow burn,probably some other stuff…

Author note: this will be a series, don’t worry I won’t take forever. (I’ll try) there will be smut in the later parts, a little she fell first her fell harder and ofc yearning touch deprived Jacaerys 🫦

From a young age, you could sense the rift between you and your twin sister Baela. Despite sharing the same womb, your differences were stark. She and Rhaena shared a bond that you could never quite penetrate. It was not their doing, but rather your own fiery spirit that kept you at a distance. Your mother's gentle nature was reflected in them, while you inherited your father's boldness. Though your mother's love was unwavering, you couldn't shake the feeling that a part of her resented your wild ways. Your father's favoritism of you only widened the gap between you and your sister as you grew older.

After your mother's passing, all your unpleasant behaviors seemed to amplify. You became withdrawn, even as a child. harboring anger towards the world and all within it. It felt like you could never live up to anyone's standards. unintentionally Chaos and drama seemed to follow you wherever you went. As you matured, you chose solitude, spending most days flying on your dragon, immersed in books, or reluctantly sparring with your father. With the looming threat of war, you were made to train relentlessly, often multiple times a day. Your father pushed you to practice at odd hours, in the dead of night and early morning. Over time, your body wearied from the constant exertion.

“Again“ Daemon's demand echoed as you swiftly advanced, sword aimed at his exposed chest plate. In a flash, he deflected your strike, the clash of steel ringing out. The force caused you to almost drop your sword, he was not holding back. "Again!" he roared, lunging forward to meet your blade once more. As you staggered back, your wrist throbbing from the impact, your father's eyes gleamed with sadistic excitement. determination etched on your face. Your father's blade comes down towards you, but you manage to defend against it, the sound of iron scraping filling the room. 

With all your might, you push him away stumbling back, a sharp pain shot through your wrist, a soundless crack signaling the injury. With a loud clatter of your sword falling to the ground."I am finished," you declare, with an unreadable expression on your face, as you begin removing your armor.

Daemon's gaze hardened at the sound of your sword falling to the ground. "You are finished when I say you are," he commands, pointing his sword at your discarded one. "Pick it up." "Even if I attempted, I wouldn't be able to," you reply, continuing to remove your armor swiftly and carefully. "I am finished for the day," you state, dropping the last piece of armor as you head towards the exit. Your father calls out for you but you ignore him. "Go pester Baela and Rhaena with your training," you mutter angrily, rubbing just below your wrist as you make your way to your room.

“What is the matter” your sister asked worried as you rushed through the hall to your room holding your wrist. tears welling in your eyes involuntarily due to the pain. “Nothing,” you say attempting to walk past her She blocked your path, stepping in front of you to inspect your hand.  "I can see that something troubles you. Let me assist-" Baela began, reaching out to you. "I have no need of your aid!" you shouted, pulling away from her touch before continuing to your room. The words hung heavy in the air as regret washed over you remembering the look of hurt and shock on her face. Jacaerys observed from afar before he made his way towards Baela to provide solace.

"I only-" she began, then let out a weary sigh.

"I know," Jacaerys murmured, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze. "She becomes more unbearable with each passing moment," he grumbled. “I shall speak to her," he declared, feeling a simmering aggravation building up inside him. "Do not," Baela implored. "I do not desire further conflict," she added. 

“It is fine, Jacaerys,” Baela insisted, noticing the lingering frustration on his face. “I am alright,” she said with a comforting smile. “I will leave it,” he replied with a forced smile. “Thank you,” Baela said before turning away, leaving Jacaerys in the corridor, his mind still troubled by the encounter. He made his way to your chambers.

As he approached the entrance to your chamber, the sound of your agonized cry reverberated through the corridors. Startled, he rushed inside to find you collapsed on the ground, surrounded by your gown as you writhed in pain and sorrow, too engrossed in your torment to acknowledge his presence. Never before had he seen you weep, not even in your youth; until this moment, he believed you incapable of shedding tears. "I shall fetch your father," Jacaerys offered, turning to leave. "No!" you cried out, vehemently shaking your head. "Do not send for my father," you insisted, tears shimmering on your cheeks. "I am merely overreacting," you declared, attempting to stand before sinking back down. Jacaerys promptly rushed to your side, lifting you up by your waist.

"What has happened?" He inquired, his brow furrowed as he gazed upon your condition. You look physically pained, your usually glowing skin now dull, your eyes weak. “I was sparring with my father," you gasped, trying to maintain composure in your voice.  The pain was unlike anything you had ever felt before throbbing relentlessly throughout your arm."My hand took a blow, but that is all." you muttered, disoriented as you recoiled from Jacaerys' touch. "I am unharmed," you declared, rising to your feet unaided. He remained close behind, ready to catch you should you stumble once more. "You do not appear well," he noted, brushing a strand of hair off your forehead, damp with sweat.

Your handmaiden entered the room, her face filled with alarm as she took in the sight before her. "She has injured herself," Jacaerys interjected on your behalf, dropping his hand. "I am well Naera," you insisted, your eyelids growing heavy. "You are not," he countered, his gaze fixed on you. "Bring a splint and bandages," he ordered the handmaiden, prompting her to hasten out of the room. “ I think it is broken” hemumbled examining your arm.

"Jacaerys," you muttered, catching his attention. "Do not tell my father," you managed before succumbing to the pain. Jacaerys was there to catch you as you fell into his arms, your head falling into the crook of his neck. Jacaerys carefully laid you on your bed, marveling at your beauty even in your unconscious state. It had been a long time since he had been in such close proximity to you. You had grown so much, he wondered if you had noticed his own newfound maturity. After ensuring that your arm was properly splinted and a wet rag was on your forehead, he prepared to depart. "I can take it from here," Naera declared, assuming control of the task. Jacaerys nodded, but hesitated, his gaze fixed on you as you slept. "Do not trouble yourself with informing Daemon, I will handle it," Naera stated calmly. "She mentioned that-"

  "I am aware," she confirmed with a nod. "Though Veerah is prone to fever, she will need a healer," Naera said as she wrung out another rag to place on your chest. Jacaerys nodded in understanding. "I will take the responsibility when she asks," Naera said with a reassuring smile. "I am grateful for that," Jacaerys replied with a slight smile before turning to depart. "She may not admit it, but she does enjoy company," Naera stated. "Her exterior is hard but her heart is soft," she added with a smile. Jacaerys nodded in understanding before taking his leave.

That night, as Jacaerys retired to his chambers, your memory consumed his thoughts in a way he had never experienced before. He found himself dwelling on the comfort of your presence in his arms, and the scent of you was like a revelation, awakening a desire he never knew existed. The sound of his name on your lips echoed in his mind, stirring emotions he had long forgotten. It had been years since they had exchanged more than a few words, and Jacaerys realized how much he longed for your company. Seeing this new vulnerable side of you sparked a curiosity within him, leaving him to wonder what other secrets you held

~~~

“Again!” you command with a chuckle as young Jacaerys pointed his wooden sword at you. He rushed towards you and you parried his attack, causing your wooden swords to clash. You step back and swing, knocking his sword out of his hand. "I've won, yet again," you declare proudly. "I let you win," young Jacaerys grumbled as he retrieved his sword. "Well then, you should let me lose some time," you jest. "You're the only girl I know who enjoys playing knights," Jacaerys remarks as he sits back on a large rock. "Is that strange?" you inquire uncertainly, joining him on the rock. Jacaerys shakes his head in disagreement. "I don't think so," he replies. "My mother once told me that she went on a hunt, something people say only men do," Jacaerys says, playing with his sword at his side. "I hope one day I can hunt too," you say, gazing into the distance. "We can hunt together," Jacaerys suggests, hopping off the rock and playfully hitting the sword by your side in hopes of provoking a fight. You laugh at his actions. "Try to win this time."

“How many more stones?" young Jacaerys panted, dropping an armful into the pile. "need help?" you chuckle as you place another rock onto the small castle foundation you two were building. "Not at all, I was just curious," he quipped. "Though in my head, I did not expect this to take so many days," Young Jacaerys stated, wiping dirt on his clothes. "Two days is not so many," you reply, placing down another rock. "My father said hard work breeds good results, and we want to build a great empire," you say, wiping the dirt from your hands.  “We could ask Baela and Rhaena to help” young Jacaerys suggested with a smile. You shake your head in disagreement, “they wouldn’t not like this play, too much dirt” you state looking down at your dirt covered hands. “Is that why you play with me?” Jacaerys inquired with a smile. “Yes, and you are useful when I need help with heavier stones” you joke causing the two of you to laugh. 

“We should construct a bridge for the people to cross," Jacaerys proposed. "Indeed! And we shall station guards at the entrance," you chimed in enthusiastically. “Though that means more work,” you say looking over at Jacaerys. “I believe we can do it,” Jacaerys says with a smile. The two of you took turns laying the foundation of your fortress and sent the other to gather the necessary Materials.

After an hour, you both stepped back to admire your progress. A stone hut made of mud and rocks stood before you, nearly complete. "Tomorrow we shall address the roof," you declared, brushing dirt from your hands onto your gown. "We must christen our realm," Jacaerys declared, eyeing the unfinished castle surrounded by picked flowers. "The Kingdom of Drangea," he announced. "Drangea?" you questioned. "Like dragon?" you inquired, puzzled. "No, like hydrangea, your favorite flower," he clarified, watching for your reaction. You appreciate the gesture but still shrugged.

 "I like it, but the Kingdom of Dragons sounds more formidable, a name befitting a ruthless empire." 

"What about Drangea, Kingdom of Dragons?" Jacaerys proposed. "That is a name befitting of a realm," you concurred, selecting a small, jagged stone. With a piece of timber that had been halved, you etched the name onto it. "It is now official," you declared, stepping back to admire it. "If this is our kingdom, then I am the king and you are the queen," Jacaerys proclaimed. Your heart raced in your chest, "I suppose," you replied with a hesitant smile. Sensing your uncertainty, young Jacaerys amended, "The king and queen do not need to be wed -" Jacaerys started, but you cut him off. "We lack crowns," you reassured him with a smile. "The king and queen must have a crown," you furrowed your brow, "tomorrow” Jacaerys stated with a smile. 

~~~~

Seated by the window, a book in hand, your wrist tightly bound in a splint, your eyes gazed outside, lost in thought. For three days, you had been confined to your chamber, sipping on herbal soup and engrossed in a tale of a woman's demise from infection, It was not a very uplifting read. Jacaerys and your sisters attempted to visit, but you dismissed them. "He's not there," Naera's voice resonated as she brought in another bowl of soup. "He's out riding."

"I have no words for you," you replied, turning away to look out the window. "I would rather face your anger than see you fall to fever," she argued. “Where have you been? You know he forbade me to ride?" you questioned, feeling a surge of anger. “He has worked me to the point of exhaustion, shattered my wrist, and then casted me off to die like a horse with a broken leg” you huff. "Could you even mount in your current state?" Naera inquired. "Think of Luke," she proposed.

"That was a unique circumstance," you declared solemnly. "Completely different. Luke was murdered," you affirmed. "Others have ridden in worse conditions safely. We are in the midst of a war, and I cannot ride a dragon," you grumbled, staring out the window.

"I believe your sister Rhaena shares similar sentiments,” she remarked, placing your bowl down. Your brow furrowed in confusion. "Whose side are you on?" you asked, puzzled.

"Yours, always," Naera replied, settling on your futon. "I just worry about how others perceive you," she explained.

“Why?” you questioned, walking over to your bookcase. “They pay me no mind,” you stated, swapping one book for another.

“How can you be sure, when you barely interact with them?” Naera prodded.

"If you're here to lecture me, you can leave. My father has already done so," you retorted aggravated pointing towards the door.

"I apologize," Naera sighed. "I only want what's best for you," she added, fiddling with a book on your futon. "On a brighter note, Jacaerys seemed quite eager to follow your instruction."

"Did he?" You asked, feigning disinterest. "Yes, and he lingered a while after you passed out Naera replied. 

Later that evening You lay in bed, gazing up at the ceiling, unable to find rest due to the agony in your arm and the relentless thoughts swirling in your mind. No matter how hard you tried to push away the worry, it lingered every night, leaving you feeling utterly helpless. To be maimed in the midst of a war was the last thing you desired. Although you were not entirely incapacitated, it felt as though you were. You were forced to remain idle while your kin risked their lives for a cause you would willingly sacrifice yourself for. Their names would be immortalized in history, while you could only watch, all because your father had worked you like a beast for a war you could no longer partake in.

Naera had recounted tales of a mysterious healer, a witch of sorts, who dwelled in her former village. Whispers of her miraculous abilities to ward off death and bless the land with abundance had reached you. If she could breathe life into withered crops, perhaps she could mend your shattered arm, or at the very least, alleviate the pain enough for you to wield a sword once more. It was a reckless gamble, but one you were willing to take.

You rose from your bed and donned the simplest of garments, a difficult task for one who takes such pride in their attire. Gathering a handful of coins hidden beneath the floorboards, you hesitated before opting to take the entire pouch. Pulling up the hood of your shawl, you exited your chambers. Stealthily and silently, you navigated through the manse. As you traversed a corridor, the sound of approaching footsteps caught your attention. Hastily, you turned and slipped into a doorway, inadvertently knocking over a small metal statue with your foot. Cursing under your breath, you pressed your body against the door, hoping to remain unseen. "Who there?" Jacaerys's voice echoed down the hall.

You remained motionless, barely drawing breath, your heart pounding in your chest. You listened as his heavy footsteps drew nearer and nearer. Only catching a glimpse of the back of his head, you observed as Jacaerys strode down the corridor in search of the source of the disturbance. He cast one final glance before turning and exiting the hall. You remained still for a time, ensuring it was safe. Once you were certain he had departed, you ventured to the cave where your dragon lay. Taking hold of a torch that lit your path as you made your way to your beast.

you creeped forward beckoning for her, "Qamar," you whispered, rousing her from her slumber at the sound of your voice. "Qamar, it is Veerah," you called out once more. You heard her emit two loud huffs, lifting her weary head as she approached the torchlight. "Awake," you stated before her large blue nostrils became visible in the light's haze as she sniffed the air. "I have missed you," you confess with a smile, caressing her face with the same tenderness and compassion you had shown her when she was just a youngling.

Y/n?" Jacaerys called out from behind you, causing your heart to sink. "You followed me?" You questioned angrily turning to face him. "Rightfully so it seems, you are not planning to ride?" he asked looking over your shoulder at your Dragon. "And if I am?" you challenged. "If you were, I would tell you that it is a certain path to demise," Jacaerys retorted seriously, moving closer. "my actions do not concern you," you declared, pulling off your hood. Even in the dim light, Jacaerys couldn't help but notice how beautiful you were. 

"Where are you going?" Jacaerys inquired as you circled the dragon, with him following closely behind.  "Once again, that is none of your concern," you stated, tightening the saddle straps on Qamar. "I will not let you to leave," Jacaerys declared as he watched you attempt to mount your dragon

"You do not let me to do anything," you State before your hand was overcome with a searing pain, causing you to lose your grip on the reins. Fortunately, you fell into Jacaerys' arms, his chest heaving with concern as he gently lowered you to the ground. You open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it. 

"How much further do you think you'll get?" Jacaerys interjected, his voice a blend of concern and frustration. 

“I do no-“

"How much further do you think you'll get in the dead of night with a broken wrist and no one to aid you?" Jacaerys questioned, his eyes filled with a seriousness that you had never witnessed before, and it suited him well. 

“Far, I reckon ” you jest, provoking a surge of anger in Jacaerys. “I am serious y/n, Do you seek death?” He inquired sternly, his eyes fixed on you. “You cannot deter me, I have made my decision,” you say meeting his gaze with unwavering determination. “I will not stand by as you all risk your lives.” you state. “What of your life?” Jacaerys asked, “Am I to sit Idly by as you risk your own?”

“Yes, you are, you are to watch as you have always. do not feign friendship now Jacaerys," you pause. "My affairs are my own, they do not concern you," you state before checking the security of the saddle once more. 

"I will inform your father," Jacaerys states gravely, causing you to turn and look at him in disbelief. "You would not dare," you challenge. "Oh, but I would," Jacaerys states firmly a smile playing on his lips. "Or I can assist you," he offers. "I do not require your assistance” You bluntly reply. "Those are your choices" he reminds.

~~~~

Seated on the cold stone floor of your unfinished castle, you meticulously added leaves to the crown in your hands. The crowns, one for you and one for Jacaerys had been your labor since morning. Your fingers ached with fatigue as you continued to weave, but the image of his smile spurred you on. You hoped that by the time you finished, you would have gathered enough courage to correctly express your feelings to Jacaerys. Your mother had often read to you tales of young love and innocent crushes where rejection was inconsequential in the world of children's books. You hoped for real life to mirror those stories. Expressing emotions, even pain, was a challenge for you, it always left you feeling exposed and vulnerable. As you secured the final stem beneath the others, you raised your weary head to gaze at the sky, now painted in hues of orange. Time had slipped away from you, and you had anticipated Jacaerys's arrival by now. Yet, he had not shown up, leaving you alone with the completed crowns of flowers and leaves. you debated venturing out to search for him. Yet, there was a part of you that was certain he would come, so you decided to wait.

You remained in that unfinished castle until the sun disappeared beyond the horizon. The darkness enveloped the outside world, and only then did you rise, brushing the dirt and grime off your dress. The woven crowns remained tightly clutched in your hand as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. Wiping them away, you left the stone hut and made your way through the corridor of the home, your mind racing with reasons for his absence. "Veerah!" Naera's voice called out to you. She was younger than at the age of ten and five. her sympathetic eyes looking down at you covered in dirt. "What's wrong?" she asked, wiping the dirt from your cheeks with her thumb. "I'm fine," you replied, pushing her hand away. "Have you seen Jacaerys?" you questioned, causing Naera to tense. "Did something happen to him?" you asked worried, making Naera shake her head. "No, Jacaerys is fine," she assured, instantly bringing a smile back to your face "Where is he then?" you asked trying to contain your excitement as you squeezed the woven crowns in your hands.

 “He is in the drawing room,” Naera says with a sad smile gesturing to the door. You smile completely unaware approaching the door. You push it open slightly to see, young Jacaerys standing with his chest up, wooden sword pointed to the ceiling. “I will save you my queen” he announced Charging forward. Causing your sister Baela to fall back with a giggle, in her perfect princess dress “You have to get through me first!”  your little sister Rhaena declared pretending to blow fire from her mouth. Young Jacaerys pretends to slay her with his wooden sword causing your Baela to run into his arms. “Thank you, brave knight,” she says leaving him a kiss on his cheek. In this story, Jacaerys was a knight, Baela a princess, and Rhaena a dragon. And what were you? Nothing, the fool. 

Never in your life before had you felt so embarrassed, embarrassed that you believed even for a moment someone would pick you. Dropping the crowns on the floor you left and never spoke of it again. Never again did you acknowledge you and Jacaerys past friendship, you barely acknowledge him. You spent the next six years focusing on yourself and yourself only.

~~~

You both sat in the back of a carriage, facing each other, packed like stowaways as the carriage jolted along the rough path. "You appear improved, how are you feeling?" Etwa asked, looking at you. "Do not feel pressured to speak," you said bluntly, attempting to silence him. “you are the only person I know who remains in a perpetual state of unhappy" Jacaerys declared, gazing at you with a perplexed expression. "Then you have not encountered enough people," you retorted plainly, resuming your silence. focusing on the sound of the creaking carriage wheels on the road. 

"I did not inform your father, if that is why…," Jacaerys commented, attempting to break the silence. “I was made aware,” you declare with a tight lipped smile. The silence did not last long as he resumed speaking. “However… if your health were to not improve I might have considered-”

"Are you always so?" you asked, irritation rising within you. "So what?" Jacaerys inquired, puzzled. "Annoying," you stated bluntly. He surrendered, releasing a sigh and reclining back against the wall, clasping his hands in his lap. The moment he ceased speaking, you secretly hoped he would continue. Yet, you also enjoyed the sight of defeat in his expression. You were unwell, and you were aware of it. Your interactions with Jacaerys felt like a constant struggle within yourself, even when you meant to speak kindly, only harsh words escaped your lips.

Author note : GUYS FEEL FREE TO COMMENT I LOVE READING COMMENTS

[writeonwhiskey]

the skz house: ch 6 (18+)

a/n: happy new year, everyone! you guys made the end of 2023 so unbelievably positive for me with your comments, reblogs & likes. thank you sm!! 🩵 huge thank you to @cloverstayy for the below graphic! she's on insta & tiktok under the same name.

Summary: Welcome to Sigma Kappa Zeta, the most popular fraternity on campus. When you, down on your luck and looking for a place to live, see their ad for ‘IN-HOUSE STAY’. You're one of the four girls chosen and find that your duties for the rest of the school year will be cooking, cleaning, and pleasing your assigned house members: Hyunjin & Bang Chan.

[ read chapter five here ] [ skz house photo book ]

Chapter Six: Of Joy Rides and Hot Tubs

You don’t have class on Thursday so you’re free to wake up when you want. Chan is gone by the time you do, and it’s only 10:00am. He doesn’t have class until late afternoon so your thoughts immediately drift to where he may have gone so early. You would have liked to see him. You wonder, if after last night, he would have smiled at you or shown you any sign that things might be different moving forward. 

It’s a silly, fleeting thought. Having sex with him doesn’t change anything. Even though he granted your plea of treating you good, he still kept his boundaries firmly in place after your shower. You were curious if he would allow you to sleep in his bed, naively hopeful about it even as you finished putting on your pajamas. However, when he got situated under his sheets and bid you goodnight, he made it abundantly clear you were not welcome there. 

Down in the kitchen and still in your pajamas, you snack on a granola bar as some of the others prepare to leave for classes or wherever they’re going—Seungmin has his baseball bag slung over his shoulder and invites you to come watch him practice later. He’s still on your shit list, though, so you’re not overly thrilled about it…but it’s an option if you have nothing better to do.

The house falls quiet again when all the commotion has ceased and you make your way back up to the second floor, to Hyunjin’s room. 

His curtains are drawn, keeping most of the morning light at bay as he sleeps. You walk around to the side of the bed and consider waking him up, cocking your head to the side as you gaze down at him. Even with his blonde hair all over the place, he looks so peaceful and handsome and perfect. His plump lips are pouted in a way that makes him seem absolutely adorable. Sleeping Beauty, who?

Without second guessing it, you slide on the bed next to him.

He peeks open an eye at the movement and smiles lazily when he sees you, causing your heart to flutter. 

“Mmmm, she’s back,” he murmurs sleepily as he wraps his arms around you—one under your head and the other around your waist—and pulls you close, nestling his face in your hair. 

He throws his leg around yours, holding on to you as if you are his own personal body pillow. Your body relaxes in his embrace and you instantly let out a soft sigh. You are content enough to stay in this position with him all day. His steady breathing lets you know he’s drifted back to sleep so you try your best to be still and not disturb his slumber any further. 

Laying on your side, staring ahead at the sight of your empty bed, your mind starts to roam and reflect on the chaos you endured over the past week. Seven days ago you were literally sitting on a curb trying to figure out where you were going to live. And throwing yourself into the SKZ house was a well-timed distraction. You were together with your ex for almost three years, and hadn’t even given yourself time to fully process your break up. Maybe because you knew it was coming…your priorities were no longer aligned, and his eyes had started to wander, his attention and affection wavered. In hindsight, you should have been better prepared for it.

You did love him, though. So the pain of him telling you he thought it’d be best if you lived apart for a while (meaning you getting the fuck out of the apartment), is still brewing inside of you. The anger derived from that pain also makes it easier to cut off your feelings for him. But you hadn’t truly considered being with anyone besides him and now here you are…having fucked one man last night and now in bed with another this morning.

You’d experienced more sexually in three days than you had in the past three years. Dominance, submission, lust, need, desire. You were pushed out of your comfort zone and you liked it. But the most troubling thing for you to wrap your head around is the lack of compassion surrounding these new sexual exploits. You’ve never just fucked someone you weren’t in love with. So how do you detach the actions from the emotions that course through you every time you see Chan? 

You can’t deny that you’re attracted to him—that you like the way he teases you, the way he makes you yearn for his touch just by looking at you. Yet, you still don’t understand how you feel about him, or if you should bother feeling anything at all. 

Cuddled up to Hyunjin—whom you’ve essentially known the same amount of time as Chan, only further adds to your confusion. Clearly it could all be this simple but Chan seems hellbent on making sure you know he views you as an object, a tool at his disposal. Chan very much still feels like a stranger in all aspects outside of sex, whereas Hyunjin feels like someone you’ve known for a long time. Someone that gets you—that respects you. He’s the only thing of comfort you’ve been able to rely on amidst the raging emotions trying their best to consume you when you’re with Chan. 

Hyunjin doesn’t even know how much you need him to just exist right now, and he’d probably think you were crazy if you told him. You place your hand on his arm and bring it from your waist to your chest, he squeezes you closer to him in response, readjusting his body slightly. 

With him snuggled against you and these thoughts wreaking havoc on you mentally, the rise and fall of your chest quickens and before you can stop it, tears are streaming down your cheek as the weight of the past week hits you like a Sparta kick to the chest. You try to keep quiet, to wipe your tears before they fall to his arm, but there’s too many and your sniffling gives you away. 

Hyunjin stirs and lifts his head up, peeking over your shoulder. When he registers that you’re crying, he slowly blinks his eyes open to really look at you. His hand hugged to your chest moves to your face, turning it towards him. You try to resist, shaking your head, wanting to hide your face in the mattress. 

“Y/n,” he says softly, voice still groggy from sleep. 

He turns your entire body around so you’re facing him and cups your cheek, wiping your tears away with the pad of his thumb. His attempts are futile—each time he wipes, a new trail is formed. 

“Gwenchana?” he says, warm brown eyes searching yours. “You okay?”

You don’t know what he’s said, why he’s said it, or if he’s still half asleep and not realizing he’s speaking Korean but regardless, the gentle, caring concern in his tone fucking breaks you. 

A sob escapes from your lips as you squeeze your eyes shut and press your face to his chest. He holds you around the waist with one hand and the other strokes the back of your head.

Even with how good Chan made you feel last night—desired in a way you’d never imagined—you still slept in your bed alone, all the while wanting nothing more than to still be close to him after how much of yourself you’d given to him. To be in his arms the way Hyunjin is holding you now.  

You can’t hold it in any longer, and here in this room, you don’t feel like you have to. He just let’s you cry, face against his chest, hands pulling at his shirt. You feel safe here. You want to stay in his protective embrace.

You don’t know how long you spend sobbing against him, but he doesn’t let go of you the entire time. When the sobs and tears finally stop and you regain control of your breathing, he leans back to look at you. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You chew on your bottom lip and shake your head, unable to meet his gaze. 

“Not really,” you say, sniffling and wiping at your eyes. “It’s just been a lot—with the breakup and moving here and Chan and you.”

“Okay,” he replies with a simple nod. 

He holds on to you tightly and quickly moves you up and over him so you're now laying on the opposite side of the bed. 

“That side is for crying—this side is for happy y/n,” he declares.

You can’t help but laugh at his antics. You look down at his tear stained shirt and pull at the fabric.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “And sorry for waking you up like this.”

“Don’t be,” he assures you. And you believe him with ease. “You’re here for me as much as I’m here for you. In all ways.”

His words are sweet and honestly make you feel like you could start bawling all over again.

“What time is it?” You ask as a distraction, realizing you’ve left your phone in Chan’s room. 

“Who cares,” he shrugs.

“Don’t you have class?”

“Who cares,” he repeats. “Want to go do something?”

As much as you’d like to stay here in bed, in his arms, it would also feel nice to be anywhere but inside the house right now. 

“Sure,” you say after a moment. “As long as you’re back in time for class.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course, we will be,” he doesn’t sound too convincing this time. He gives you one final squeeze before sitting up. He grabs his phone from the nightstand and checks the time. “We have four hours.”

“What do you have in mind?” You ask, sitting up.

“Nothing at all—I don’t do plans, remember?” 

“You’re gonna make me feel a different kind of crazy these next three days,” you joke.

“You’ll learn to love it,” he winks.

You slide out of the bed and find an outfit for the day. You immediately start changing in the room without thinking about it, but Hyunjin hasn’t seen nearly as much of you as Chan has. You peek over your shoulder and see he’s still sitting in bed, watching you with a smile. He pretends he’s been caught, averting his gaze around the room.

“Stop it,” you say with a laugh, pulling your pants up.

“I’m an artist,” he replies, “I have to appreciate good views. Commit them to memory for my work, you know.”

“Well, this isn’t a live model class—get up and get dressed,” you tell him.

“Yes ma’am.”

You pull on your t-shirt, then tell him you’ll be back in a minute. You make your way upstairs, to Chan’s room. You’re not sure if he’s home so you knock lightly on the door. There’s no response. You enter and retrieve your phone, tucking it in your back pocket. You take a moment to makeup your bed since you have no intention of returning to this room at all for the next couple of days. You also grab your backpack and sling it over your shoulder before turning around to leave. 

You stop dead in your tracks when you see Chan, standing between the door frame, startling you. You put a hand to your chest to still your beating heart. How long had he been standing there?

When he takes in the sight of you, you catch a brief look of concern on his face—if you had blinked you would have missed it.

“I just came to get my things,” you say softly. 

As if you owe him any kind of explanation.

He remains silent as he enters the room, stopping just in front of you. He leans down a little, his eyes raking over your face carefully. It dawns on you then…how you must look. You can feel the tightness and puffiness of your eyes from crying earlier.

For a moment you think he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t. His lips are pressed together tightly as he gives a curt nod and steps to the side, allowing you to walk past. 

His silence feels worse than anything he could have said.

“Have you ever driven one of these before?” Hyunjin asks, seated next to you in the passenger seat of the navy blue Tesla. 

You shake your head, still in shock he offered to let you drive. 

“Go easy on the pedal,” he says, buckling his seatbelt. 

You adjust the rearview mirror, groaning at the sight of your puffy eyes in the reflection. Even after gently washing your face and moisturizing, they still looked awful. 

Hyunjin opens the glove compartment, revealing several pairs of sunglasses. He shuffles them around, holds a few different pairs up to your face before deciding on one and handing it to you. He picks a pair for himself and puts them on as you do the same.

“Now we’re ready,” he looks over to you and you see his eyebrows wiggle above the frame of the sunglasses. 

You’re grinning widely as you reverse from the driveway, feeling happy and optimistic for once. Hyunjin controls the music as you drive, curating a soundtrack for your adventure. Neither of you have any idea where you’re going, which annoys the crap out of you. Hyunjin finds it amusing and starts telling you to take a left here or there. At one point he has you take four rights in a row, effectively sending you in a circle, or square rather. He claps his hands together, laughing as you swat at his arm and thigh in annoyance.

When the song “Broken” by We Are Fury & Luma comes through the speakers, you make him replay it a few times in a row—the two of you sing it together, “Give it away, like I always do. Watch you start to fade, one more heart to lose.” The lyrics hit you in special way today, but Hyunjin matches your energy as you both belt out the next part with your whole chest, “Got that sinking feeling like the bottom of the ocean, I’ve been here before, feeling every damn emotion.”

You drive and sing and talk. You’re almost able to forget about your sad, emotional outburst earlier. Almost. 

At one point you stop at a shopping center with a recently opened Halloween store to browse the costumes and pick up a few decorative items for the house. Well, it started as a few anyway. Hyunjin alternates between holding your hand and hugging you from behind as you walk through the aisles. He keeps you entertained with his clumsiness—screaming and knocking into displays when something scares him. Being with him makes you feel like a normal college student just hanging out with their crush—joking, laughing, flirting.

When you make a stop for lunch, you mention Seungmin inviting you to watch him practice and Hyunjin doesn’t mind the idea. You grab enough food for the three of you and head down to campus. You’ve never had a reason to venture to the baseball field before, but it’s quite large and empty aside from the players practicing. 

You and Hyunjin take a seat in the bleachers—Seungmin waves when he spots you two. You munch on fries and a burger as you watch them. Seungmin is far more serious on the mound than you’ve ever seen him. He looks like he simply belongs there, on the field and in his uniform, striking out a couple of team mates in a row. 

“Shit, I have to get to class,” Hyunjin announces, checking his phone. 

You hadn’t realized how much time had passed already. 

“Go,” you tell him with a nod. “I’ll catch a ride back with Seungmin or wait around for you.”

“You’ll wait for me?” He asks, batting his eyelashes at you. 

“Maybe,” you tease with a playful shrug. 

He stands up and starts to walk away from you before suddenly stopping. He turns back around to face you, leans down and places a kiss firmly on your lips. You’re startled at the sudden action, but you don’t shy away from it. You press your lips back against his.

It’s quick and sweet, but a wave of heat rushes through your body all the same. 

“See you later,” he says when he steps back.

You continue watching Seungmin for another half an hour until practice ends. He comes to meet you in the bleachers and you offer him the food you had ordered for him. 

You push your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose to look at him directly in the eyes, “It may or may not be poisoned.” 

“I have a strong immune system,” he retorts, tearing away at the wrapper of the burger and biting into it. “Did you like what you saw?”

“You’re okay,” you say nonchalantly, pushing your sunglasses back up. “When’s the first game?”

“In the spring. You gonna come watch?”

“Only if I can root for the other team,” you reply.

“That’s blasphemy.”

“Serves you right, pineapple boy.” 

He lets out a loud laugh at your remark. 

“Come on, it was a joke.”

“To you, maybe…Chan didn’t find it so amusing,” you tell him. 

“He actually does like pineapple,” he shrugs. 

“But not on pizza—you set me up.”

“I did,” he agrees. “It was funny.”

“Again…to you, maybe. And Changbin. I’ll get you back for that.”

“Oooh, I’m so scared,” he says, finishing off the last bite of his burger in record time. 

“You should be,” you tell him. “Sleep with your eyes open Kim Seungmin.”

“I always do.”

You roll your eyes. His sarcastic ass has a comeback for everything. 

You sit and talk on the bleachers a little while longer until Seungmin is ready to head back to the house. He walks you to the building where Hyunjin’s class is before taking off. You sit outside the building and wait, scrolling through your phone for a lack of anything better to do. When you look up and see Hyunjin finally walking out, he’s beaming when he spots you on the bench.

You stand to greet him, only just now realizing he went to class empty handed—no backpack, no notebook or pen, nothing. You could never imagine doing such a thing but for Hyunjin, it just seems fitting.

By the time you get back home, the house is abuzz per usual for this time of night. You and Hyunjin take in the decorations from the Halloween store and get to work putting some of them up with a few others as dinner is prepared. 

Everyone throws around ideas for the upcoming Halloween party, and it starts to sound more intense than you could have imagined. It seems like they plan to go all out with kegs, catering, costume contests and more. 

After dinner you lounge in the living room, seated around the coffee table with nearly everyone except Chan, Rhiannon, Changbin and Lee Know, playing Uno. Rhiannon and Changbin had excused themselves after making suggestive faces at each other the entire meal. The game causes a lot of commotion and outbursts but honestly it’s the most fun you’ve had in the house as a group yet. 

Felix claims to make the house rules, saying you can put a Draw 2 on a Draw 2, which is purely evil as he makes you Draw 12 cards at one point with a devilish grin on his face. 

By 8:30pm, Hyunjin is dragging you back upstairs to his room wanting to watch the next episode of the show you started Sunday, saying he’s been waiting forever to see what happens. 

You both climb into his bed, laptop in front of you and leaned together as you watch episode two. You’re at ease next to him. You readjust yourselves halfway through watching to get more comfortable, sitting with your backs against the pillows and the laptop resting on your left and his right thigh. He wraps an arm around you and you lean against him. You’re able to get in two episodes before calling it quits for the night. 

“You know I can sleep in my own bed if you don’t want me with you,” you say to him as you’re putting your dirty clothes in the laundry and make a note to do some washing over the weekend. 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You shrug in response, as if you don’t know the reason you’re saying it involves the man on the next floor up. 

“In case you want your space or something.”

“No,” he replies cooly. “I get my space when you’re with Chan.”

He pulls back the bedsheets (specifically on the right, your happy side) and looks pointedly down at them then back up to you. You can’t stop the smile that creeps on to your face as you climb in bed next to him. 

“Fair warning I have to be up for an early class tomorrow.”

“Ew,” he says pulling you towards him and you can just picture the look of disgust he’s bearing. 

You turn around to face him, tucking your head in the crook of his neck. 

“Thank you for this morning,” you tell him.

“You’ll adjust,” he says. “But I know it’s hard.”

“Did you want to…” you ask, trailing off in the same way you did with Chan but you’re not nearly half as nervous. You can’t let yourself lose sight of the reason you’re in this house. 

“We don’t have to rush, okay?” he replies.

You nod.

“You are emotional right now,” he continues, “I can see that. I know this can be a lot to handle in the beginning so I won’t pile more on top of what you're already feeling.”

“I think I can handle it…” you speak up. 

“I want you to know you can handle it, y/n.”

You bite your bottom lip as you look at him. His words don’t feel like a rejection, they’re coming from a place that’s putting you first. He’s right. And you know it.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask timidly. 

He grabs on to you like he did this morning and pulls you up and over so you’re laying on top of him. You sit up, straddling his waist, and run your hands through his soft, blonde hair before leaning down and pressing your lips to his. You want to communicate just how much spending today with him meant to you. 

The kiss starts with slow, long presses of your lips together but soon evolves into more. You part your mouth, and he captures your bottom lip between his, sucking on it gently. His hands roam across your back as you kiss him again, snaking your tongue inside his mouth while your hips grind against him.

He turns his head to the side, letting out a breath as he breaks the kiss. You look down at him with uncertain eyes.

“Don’t think I don’t want you…because I do.” He moves his hips against you and you can feel his hardening cock press against you. “But let’s do this right.”

You realize how easily you could try to push it further, but he seems adamant about wanting you to be in a good headspace. Which, truthfully, makes you want him even more. As if he can heal the part of you that’s been wounded by fucking you. 

“We can still kiss though, right?”

He responds by cupping the back of your neck and bringing your lips to his again. 

The strict make out session has you feeling like a teenager again—hesitant to move to second base. He stills your hips and grunts each time you grind against him, causing you to giggle. The roles in this room are much different as you get to be the teaser for once.

On Saturday it’s decided to make use of the pool and hot tub before the weather gets too cold. Changbin and Chan man the grill as everyone else is in the heated pool either swimming or lounging on the large floaties. You’re left feeling a little in awe, as you have never seen so much of all the members—the girls in their bathing suits and the guys in their swim trunks. They boys are all varying degrees of physical fitness—some have abs, some don’t, some have defined, muscular arms, some don’t. But the sight of each them makes you lick your lips and force yourself to look away. 

When you make your way out of the house, carrying a pan of meat to Chan and Changbin, you feel Chan’s eyes on you. He doesn’t try to hide it either, looking you over in your swimsuit. It’s modest, to some degree—a dark green bikini top with white and yellow flowers and matching shorts for the bottoms. His eyes dip to your cleavage, then back up to your eyes. At least you’re not the only one fighting these urges to keep your gaze up. You really wish you’d brought out a pair of sunglasses to hide your gawking.

He hasn’t said a word to you since that night. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his look. You’re emboldened by the closeness you’ve felt with Hyunjin the last few days. You know that on Sunday, too, when it’s your day to choose—you’ll stay with Hyunjin again.

You push the thoughts of the Monday fast approaching with him aside as you get in the pool to join the others. Hyunjin holds his hand out to you as you descend the steps, pulling you to him once you’re in the water. You wrap your arms around his neck and legs around his waist as he carries you effortlessly through the water, towards the deep end. 

He stops against the side of the pool and you lean back to rest against it, hips thrust forward to his. Partially of your own doing, but also because of the water. He doesn’t seem to mind either way. He’s been rather receptive of your sly advances. You find it exciting, how both of you are able to tease each other knowing it’s building up to something more without any sort of timeline or demand. 

You grin up at him, letting your arms fall from around his neck down to his chest. You are assigned to him and feel free to stare and touch him as you please. You run your hands down past his lightly defined pectorals, over his nipples (which makes him giggle), then down to his abs. They may not be as toned as Chan’s, but they feel satisfying beneath your fingertips either way.

Hyunjin leans down to kiss you but before his lips meet yours, a wave of water hits you, soaking both of your heads. You both turn to find the culprit—Lee Know. He’s grinning as he flicks more water at you. You push away from Hyunjin and head towards him. 

Hyunjin grabs you by the waist, pulling you back. 

“Relax,” he says into your ear. “He can’t swim.”

“Good,” you mutter. “I can drown him easier.”

Hyunjin laughs at your remark. 

“And then what?” He asks. “You go to jail and you’re kept from me?”

You pout your lips and look up at him. 

“But if would feel so cathartic.”

“I agree with you. Everyone’s contemplated drowning Minho at some point,” he tells you. 

When the meat is cooked, everyone exits the pool to eat. Chan sits directly across from you and Hyunjin, leaning back in his chair, all nonchalant and unbothered. When you’re with Hyunjin, who’s treating you so well, you’re able to mostly keep your disturbing thoughts of Chan at bay. You wish you could say you hadn’t thought of him at all, hadn’t thought of what he’s doing up in his room when you aren’t there. Does he touch himself? Does he think of you when he does it?

“I call dibs on being the DJ,” Felix announces when the conversation turns to the Halloween party once again. 

“If you’re just putting together a playlist, you’re not a DJ,” Seungmin corrects him. 

“Don’t over do it with Halloween songs,” Jeongin speaks up, looking pointedly at Han. 

“You have to set the mood,” Han defends himself, cheeks stuffed with food. 

“No one wants to hear Thriller 10 times in one night,” Jeongin says.

“You don’t know that,” Han mumbles with a shrug. 

You ladies are put in charge of getting the virtual invites out, completing the decorations and organizing the catering and keg deliveries. 

You push your plate away from you and look at Chan. You notice he’s always so quiet when he’s with the group. For being the leader he doesn’t speak up that often. Maybe he’s content letting them squabble over the smaller details and getting the final say. 

After everyone is fed and has put the subject of the party to rest, Hyunjin takes your hand and leads you towards the hot tub where Changbin, Lee Know, Rhiannon, Allie and Seungmin are already inside. You sit next to Hyunjin and relax in the warmth, leaning your head against the outer rim with your eyes closed. There’s a jet at work on your back and the repeated pressure feels good. 

Chan and Felix enter the hot tub next. It’s not that big, but everyone moves over to make room. Hyunjin pulls you onto his lap and Chan sits right next to him. Jeongin and Charlotte show up next with shots for everyone. You toss yours back with a grimace—it makes you feel even hotter. 

You lean back against Hyunjin and fight the urge to look over at Chan. It shouldn’t feel so awkward. Directly across from you is a prime example. Charlotte is seated on Jeongin’s lap sideways, legs draped over Han and they’re all engaged in conversation with each other.

You chew on your lip and let out a low breath. Maybe you’re the one making it more awkward than it needs to be, letting your confusing feelings about Chan get in the way of something that should be easy. You’ve been living like he doesn’t exist the past couple of days—you can’t keep that up. You don’t want to be the one to ruin the vibe of the house.

You turn to face Chan as Hyunjin rests his arms on the rim of the hot tub, talking to Lee Know on his other side.

“Got any ideas for your costume?” You ask him. 

“Not yet…why? You wanna play dress up with me?” He arches an eyebrow and smiles. 

You’re caught off guard at his response—both the words and the disarming smile he bears. The bottle of alcohol is passed around again, saving you a response as you fill up your shot glass. 

Chan holds his glass out to you and you cheers him before taking the shot. 

“You seem better,” he says, placing his glass on the ground outside the hot tub. 

It’s the first time he’s acknowledged it. 

You feel a hand on your left thigh and tense up for a second. Hyunjin’s arms are still behind you. Chan’s lips are turned up at the side, watching you panic.

With the jets going you can’t see anything beneath the water, but you know it’s him. 

“Hyunjin has been great,” you tell him. 

“I know,” he replies with an understanding nod, meanwhile his hand has started sliding up and down your thigh. “I’m glad.”

You want to ask him how he knows and why would he be glad about it, but your conversation is interrupted.

“You guys talking about me over here?” Hyunjin leans over to his left side where you and Chan are. 

Chan grins and you feel like you’re about to be caught doing something you shouldn’t. His hand doesn’t stop caressing your thigh. 

“Only good things,” you reply, turning your head to look at him. 

Hyunjin places a quick peck on your cheek and returns to his conversation with Lee Know. 

You drop your gaze down to the water feeling happy, embarrassed and confused. 

Chan’s hand slides further up your thigh and moves between your legs. With his other hand above the water, he uses a finger to tilt your head back up so you’re looking at him. You don’t know what to say. 

“No?” He asks quietly. 

You nod your head slowly, spreading your legs just a little further apart.

How could he do this so quickly? He gave you a mere centimeter of attention and now you’re back right where he wants you. This physical touch, though, is the most he’s shown you in front of the others.

Changbin says something to Chan then, so he turns to speak to him but continues rubbing you over your swim shorts. Your hips move against his fingers. 

Hyunjin instinctively wraps one arm around your waist to keep you still as he had been doing the past couple of days. His hand bumps Chan’s in the process and he redirects his attention back to you two. 

Your pulse increases as you anticipate his reaction. 

He fucking chuckles.

With your hair up in a messy bun, Hyunjin has easy access to the back of your neck. He kisses it lightly as he holds you closer to him and Chan resumes his hand movements. Your eyes flutter shut as your brain is on the fritz, trying to process exactly what the fuck is happening right now. 

“It’s too hot in here,” Allie blurts out. 

To which everyone but you laughs. You’re goddamn right it’s hot in here, but for you it’s due to an entirely different reason. 

“I’m getting back in the pool,” she says and stands from the water. 

“I’ll come with you,” you say, taking her distraction as a saving grace to get you out the hot tub before these two men send you to a room with padded walls. 

You push Chan’s hand away and Hyunjin let’s go of you as you stand. 

Allie walks to the steps of the pool but you dive right in. The cold water against your skin shocks your senses, making you feel alert and awake, helping bring you down from whatever Hyunjin and Chan were trying to work you up to. 

You take your time, swimming to the opposite end of the pool before resurfacing. You let out a deep breath and wipe the water away from you face. You don’t know how to describe what you had just felt—both of them touching you at once. You’ve never felt that before…but holy fuck do you want to experience it to completion now. 

[ read chapter seven here ]

a/n: oh boy. how are we feeling? it was important for her to acknowledge all she's going through. but aren't we so happy she has hyunjin? the yin to chan's yang. 😁

tag list: @iflmho / @skzstaykatsy / @blackhairandbangs / @ayoitschannie / @idunnomanmynamewastaken / @charmer-c / @ihatemen55 / @channiesprincess / @channniesslefttt / @jiwoos-babygirl / @krayzieestay / @kayleefriedchicken / @sunnyhonie / @cotton-candycloudz / @lubsungie / @conwunder / @puckmaidens / @ashleighland /

[from-izzy]

proposing to you | nct dream

“Marry me,” he started, “Carry a part of me wherever you go too.”

pairing » nct dream (individual members) x fem!reader​

trope/au » ​established relationship au!, non-idol au!, marriage au! (well it leads to it)

genre » it's all just fluff and vibes here hehe, dreamies who are all very much in love with you, mark's one makes me chuckle, renjun's one makes me wanna squish his cheeks (i miss him 😭), jeno's one makes me melt, haechan's one is chaotically (?) romantic (in my opinion), jaemin's one makes me want to have pets again so bad, chenle's one makes me want to splurge and treat myself, jisung's one is too adorable for me

word count; estimated reading time » 4303 (total); ~16 mins (total)

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » nicknames; members to reader (love, bubs), lots of kissing, ...not proofread---

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

my very first time doing something like this. this scenario has been in my head for some time and i finally had the time to sit and write it all 🥰 (and also because sem 1 results come out later today and this is my way of forgetting about it uhm 🤠)

this is my personal take on how each member from dream would propose to you!! i tried to make them all with similar word count but i can't help but to get carried away with some 🥹

Mark sits on the stool, one foot on the ground while the other is on the footrest, making sure that his guitar is tuned properly and that the new strings that he bought yesterday are set up properly. To ease his tension he strums random chords and raps random words on top, making the other Dreamies lovingly judge (and tease) him. Jeno would be tasked with calming him down, while Haechan does the exact opposite of what Jeno is doing, purposely annoying him to get his mind off his nervousness. Either way, it worked well to get the lovesick boy from the reason why they’re all gathered today. 

“You both are too loud!” Renjun says when Chenle adds random notes to Mark’s singing, belting high notes that are out of his range whilst also purposely hitting them off-tune.

“She’s probably going to walk in and think we’re crazy,” Jisung whispers to the boy who scolded Haechan not long after, who decided to join in on the chaos.

“Well, the point is that she doesn’t see the chaos right now…” Jeno lets out a nervous grin, turning his head to the still-closed door, “Maybe one of us should stand outside and text someone in the room or something.”

“No,” Jaemin crosses his arms, “This is funny,” taking out his phone to start recording, making the other three facepalm at how he’s indirectly contributing to the chaos. 

In the end, the noise and chaos were too loud for anyone in the room to realise the door opening. When he noticed you from the other side of the room, hand over your mouth, cheeks rising at the scene, his voice cracked and his cheeks blushed instantly. Mark’s voice cracked and his coughing caused the other boys to be immediately disciplined, rushing to their scheduled spots in their room as Mark mutters an “Oh crap…” thinking that everything has all been ruined.

You tried to keep your laughs at bay at your pouting boyfriend, but the image of him being silly only made it harder for you to wipe the smile off your face. But soon after, you realise the decoration around the room and the heart-shaped balloons and the unique balloons shaped like rings. Understanding how this is a different occasion to a date that you expected him to set up, you blurted a quick “No, I didn't see anything!” and rushed out the door, heart beating fast at the possible connotations behind the set-up.

It will forever become a memory that you two will always bring up whenever and wherever. A slight mention of it would instantly bring out a shy Mark who hides his red face in the crook of your neck, forever in love with you.

“Ah! That proposal was supposed to be perfect.”

Your mind replays the scene back again. After running out of the room, you waited around five more minutes, trying to calm the beating against your chest. When you did enter back, your eyes were only focused on Mark who started performing the little piece that he has prepared for you. Your body sways to the rhythm and the sweet melody of his voice and Mark who kept his eyes on yours for the majority of the performance only made the moment even more special. You remember the way you hopped on stage, only wanting to be held in his arms and unable to let go. Eventually, you did and Mark got down on one knee with the ring that he had prepared for this moment. Reminiscing the time always made you chuckle and Mark pouted and groaned, knowing that you were lost in that time once more. 

A kiss lands on his lips, wiping the pout effectively from his lips, “It’s perfect because it was you, Markie.”

Renjun is pacing around the room, making sure the decorations are placed at their designated spots properly. He would circle the room countless times, making sure the flowers were fresh and presented in the way that he liked whilst his hands busied themselves with playing with the case of your ring; that he hopes will be on your fourth finger soon.

Mark massages his shoulder, relieving his body tension. Jaemin has his camera ready to take pictures whenever he can, making sure not to interfere with the small bubble that Renjun would create with you. Jisung, being more responsible than the older members most of the time stands still with a proud look on his face while Chenle gives him a thumbs up along with Jeno as well. Haechan is just as encouraging; Renjun’s threat to make sure he didn’t cause trouble playing in his head.

“I think everything is set up,” Jaemin says as he takes more photos of the venue to add for the memory book.

“You’re playing a very important role here,” Haechan comments, a hand resting on his hand, “Don’t mess it up.”

Jaemin replies with a slightly menacing smile, “Don’t mess with me, Lee Haechan.”

“To be honest, everything will go well as long as Renjun doesn’t go blank as soon as she walks in,” Chenle teases the older boy at how in love and speechless Renjun would be around you.

“True,” Mark gives him an encouraging thumbs up, “But you’ll be fine. She’ll be here any minute now actually.”

You received instructions through text from Jeno about meeting at a place, a dress code and a time “when you should open the door (don’t open it before!)”. The text is odd and when asking Renjun about it, the tips of his ears growing red from each passing second tell you that he does know what’s going on but it's cleer he wouldn't tell. You couldn’t ask any more questions after he pulled your face into his for a quick kiss, hushing you from any more questions. 

When you walked in, outfit in line with the theme of the room and matching with his, Renjun’s heart melted once more, falling in love with you all over again. You slowly walk towards your boyfriend, eyes flickering around the area and taking in the decorations as well as giving the boys a smile and greeting back. When Renjun is infront of you, he playfully bows, momentarily stumbling and losing his balance. You cup his cheeks when he lifts his head, kissing his lips, not bothering about the camera capturing it all. 

“W-Woah,” Renjun stumbles with his words, “That was nice.” 

“This whole place is nice, Junnie,” your boyfriend is relieved by your words, “You look beyond nice, by the way.”

Few minutes later, Renjun takes his position on the floor and Jaemin captures it the memories with his camera: the way it dawned on you that he's proposing, to when you finally sealed Renjun’s love and to the way Renjun takes your lips after. 

Jaemin smiles behind the camera, capturing all the moments to make a physical memory of it all.

Including getting extremely closer than he said he wouldn’t take a better picture of the band around your finger.

“So this is why you made me dress up?” Taking in the fragrance of the flowers that Jisung gave as a token of congratulations from the rest of the boys.

Renjun nods, “You look beautiful, by the way.”

Jeno and his little smile that would reach his eyes. That was one of the first reasons why you fell for Jeno but to him, it’s his default expression whenever he sees, thinks of hears anything related to you. At the start of your relationship, he’s shy about receiving and giving you affection but you didn’t mind initiating the skinship, hugging and pecking his cheeks that would gradually lean towards his lips. He loves the skinship from you even in front of the rest of the boys who would tease him about it.

“She loves you,” Jaemin wiggles his eyebrows at the goodbye kiss you gave him.

“I love her more,” he replies, his eyes filled with heart shapes.

As the relationship developed and you got a little place with him, Jeno would slowly be the one who initiated the skinship, hugging your waist to sleep and keeping you close to him whenever he could. Even outside, he would be the one to link your hands together first and show his love through the bouquet of flowers from the start of any date.

“These bouquets just keep growing bigger and bigger each time in my opinion,” twirling the gift around in your hand while the other is in Jeno’s.

Your boyfriend kissed your head, “It didn’t really change from the first one, bubs.” Content with the little giggle you gave as he watched the elevator take you both to the floor where he booked the last dinner where you would be his girlfriend and the last anniversary as boyfriend and girlfriend; the start of a new title to the both of you.

His hand is stashed in his pocket where the ring is and he couldn’t help but gulp nervousnessly. The dinner went smoothly with the courses that Jeno pre-ordered and throughout the whole date, he loves the way you fill the atmosphere with the times that you didn’t spend together for the day, him updating you on his day too. He would never be tired of hearing your voice and the eye smile on him is a clear indication of that.

“I’m going to go to the restroom,” Jeno says as he kisses the back of your hand. He approaches one of the workers there, asking for the largest bouquet that he has ever given you in their back room where he dropped it off hours before the dinner. 

You’re preoccupied with taking pictures of the view from the windows that span from the floor to the ceiling but your boyfriend’s reaction comes into view and your phone screen rests on the table once again, ready to greet him. What you didn’t expect is when Jeno kneeled to one knee, arms outstretching the flowers he had with the opened box nestling between its petals.

“Jeno?” You asked him, tears beginning to fill up your eyes.

“I thought it would be nice to ask here, at this place. We always spent our anniversaries here and even today,” happy with how the corner of your lips rises with the event, “Will you marry me?”

It took you less than a millisecond to respond with a nod and a loud “Yes”. When Jeno stood from his position, your arms were immediately wrapped around his, hiding your lower face behind his shoulder.

“I thought you were shy.” 

“I am,” heat rising to his cheeks, “But I wanted to make this special for my very special girl.”

The Dreamies have never seen Haechan so nervous before. It bought them back to the times when he was crushing on you, blushing and being giddy all the time at the thought of you. They remember how Haechan was asking Jaemin for advice for the outfit on your first date that you prepared, and he rocked up with something really formal for a casual date, mixing up the place for the restaurant as a similar four-star restaurant. It would be something that not only you would tease him about, but when news spread to the Dreamies, they used it as the main thing to tease him about whenever he was being mischievous. It did die down quickly as after learning that the memory is very fond to you, the teasing wouldn’t work against him anymore.

The necklace that Haechan gifted you that day would be a reminder of the happiness that he has been giving you from the start of the journey and just like the sun pendant that reminds you of him, you love how just a glance of it knocks out all your worries that life may have weighed you down with. 

It all seemed to be a recent memory, but that was quite a long time ago for everyone who knew what happened. Now, Haechan is waiting for you to come back home after a night out with your friends and earlier in the day, the boy who was pacing around the room about what to wear to his first date with now is now pacing around the jewellery store on the perfect ring on your hand. 

He talked with the boys about his proposal plan to which the others have chipped in and helped him with. In the end, some of their advice is taken on board, but most of them made him grip his hair and made him say, “I’m just going to wing it.”

To which Mark replied with, “Sure, dude. If it doesn’t go ‘well’, it’s another thing to tease you about.” 

In all seriousness though, he wants the proposal to be perfect; just like how you are to him. He plops down on the bed, raising the box to the ceiling as he looks at the diamond he worked hard for. At the sound of the front door creaking and your voice greeting him from the other side of the house, he pockets the jewellery in his sweatpants, jumping from the cotton to greet you.

Your arms were outstretched and Haechan brings you to his embrace immediately, “How was your day?”

“So good,” your voice muffled with the hug, “We bought friendship rings,” pushing him away slightly to show him, “We thought about this so much but we thought it’s so pretty that we couldn’t not get it.”

You realised that as much as Haechan smiled at the decoration around your finger, it didn’t go unnoticed that he was playing with the hem of your jacket. An eyebrow perks up from that and you give him a kiss on his cheek, asking him what was wrong.

He took a deep breath, took the box from his pockets, got down to one knee and opened the jewellery to you for the first time, “Marry me,” he started, “Carry a part of me wherever you go too.”

Growing up, you were never able to have pets. Your dad is allergic to cats, one of the pets that you’ve always wanted, and your mum isn’t sure of how well the family would take care of another life due to how busy life is. You totally agree with her because pets should be well taken care of as much as any other kind of life form.

When you and Jaemin were financially ready to get a place for yourselves, one of his first promises was to get a pet that you wanted. Through motivation and a lot of saving, making sure that you were both ready to take care of another life and doing all the research on how to take care of cats, you and Jaemin finally adopted a pet to take care of. Jaemin is also thankful for the added company in the house as your work schedule wouldn’t match with his and that would mean that one of you would be alone in the house. Having another pet would make the house more lively and less lonely. With gradual time and more financial stability, you were able to adopt two more that you both love equally. 

“We should get another one,” you comment as Jaemin turns off the bedroom lights.

Your boyfriend hums at your thoughts, knowing exactly what you mean. He slips into the covers, hooking an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to his warmth, “You really love taking care of others, don’t you?”

You close your eyes and hum a response, exhaling at the comfort of him next to you. “You know how I am.”

“I do, bubs. I do,” and he really does. With how your eyes light up whenever you take care of the people around you, always loving how you’re able to help out others whether it be him, your family, his family or the three cats that are sleeping soundly in the living room, it comes naturally that he’s thought of settling down with you permanently for the rest of his life; and having a little mini you or mini him later down the track. Similar talks have happened in the relationship and he thought that it would be perfect to make it happen soon.

No more words were said that night but Jaemin kissed a final kiss onto your soft lips and made a mental note to prepare for another life chapter with you. A few days later, he was able to speed through his work, being able to finish early to see the ring that he had been monitoring through the website. As soon as his eyes landed on it, he immediately thought of you and that’s how he made his final decision to buy it.

Thankfully, you had a later end to your work today and that gave Jaemin enough time to prepare a small, quick dinner as well as dressing the three cats into little outfits that would be fitting to wear in a wedding. 

“Come on, Luna,” he says as he struggles to get her paw in, “I don’t have a lot of time and I want to make mummy proud!” With this, the cat seemed to comply instantly and Jaemin squished the cat’s cheeks in thankfulness.

With each cat, he securely attached a note on their ventral side: Love, Marry, Me, and plans to release each cat one by one from the bedroom when you come in. Jaemin just made it in time, quickly scooping up all the cats into his arms, and rushing to hide in the bedroom.

“I’m home!” You routinely shouted, “Nana?” Confused about why the house was so quiet, especially when knowing that Jaemin finished work a long time ago. “Maybe he went out and forgot to tell me?” But that’s quickly proved wrong when pipping hot homemade food were neatly set out on the table. “Luna! Lucy! Luke!” Calling out to your three cats, wondering how none of them rushed to the door like they usually would.

Suddenly, the door to your room opens and you gasp, scared that an intruder is in your house but out comes all your three cats in different, cute attires. “Oh!” Kneeling on the floor to get a better look at them, “Did dadda do this? Hm?” Picking up Luna with his little white dress, rubbing your nose on hers. “What’s this?” Reading the ‘Love’ message on her stomach. You set Lucy down, picking up Lucy in a similar outfit, “Marry…” Your eyes widened, looking at a groom-like dressed Luke who sat patiently, licking the back of his exposed paw. Sure enough, the final and last note makes your jaw drop.

Jaemin emerges from your bedroom, smiling at how you look up at him in shock. He kneels on the floor, “I was supposed to let them out one by one but they got excited," he shrugs with a smile. "As much as I would love another pet,” he hinges the velvet box open, “If you would like to, I would also love a mini you or mini-me.” A hand rises to your gaped mouth, eyes staring at the cushioned ring. “But first, will you marry me?”

It seems that Luna, Lucy and Luke were on board with the idea, jumping on your lap and resting their little paws on your arms. Sure enough, you nod and verbally express your actions. The “Yes” is all Jaemin took to carefully place the three nosy cats away from you, sliding the new ring on your hand and pulling you into a kiss.

During ring shopping, Chenle would look around the places he could find and spend a lot of time window shopping on all the rings that were available in your size. He invited Jisung along on the journey and the younger boy was more stressed than him with how he was handling the situation. From the very first store, he already has about five rings that he’s thinking would be perfect for you. Jisung gave his input on each one which Chenle is thankful for, but did minimal in narrowing down the options. He even asked the other members, but it was still the same result. 

In the end, after visiting all the stores that he had listed, Chenle purchased about ten rings from each store. The employees are used to customers who are stuck between multiple choices as a symbol of love for their partner. But they weren’t prepared for Chenle to cross his arms, calmly exhale point to the rings and say, “I’ll just take them all.” 

Jisung tried to save his wallet but after deep thinking and checking the return policy, he decided to buy all the ones that his heart couldn't let go of. He'll figure out what to do with the rest of the diamonds later. Because of his massive purchase, on the day of the proposal, he looked calm and collected but inside, his heart was beating like he just ran a marathon. It was running so fast to the point that you asked him if there was something troubling him when you laid on his chest to sleep last night. Chenle shook his head firmly but from the way his finger trembled a little when he was patting your head, you couldn’t help but to question him once more.

“It’s not a big deal, I promise.”

After some time, your raised eyebrows relaxed, “Okay. Tell me if it weighs too much and whenever you’re ready, okay?”

And he’s so excited to tell you what is on his mind soon. The thought of finally being able to spoil the love of his life for the rest of his life excited him so much that with the boxes looking similar across the stores, he didn't realise that he also grabbed the one that he hadn't decided on the previous night. When you nodded to his proposal, too stunned and speechless from happiness to speak, the different ring to his expectations when he opened the velvet box made him let out the famous Pikachu face. 

“What?” You chuckled and tilted your head in confusion at his reaction, completely unaware of the boxes hidden under the bed. 

“N-Nothing,” well, it looks like he'll explain later but with the happiness written on your face and the kisses you showered him with, maybe he'll just gift the rest of the spares to you.

“Don't be so nervous,” a hit lands on the side of Jisung’s arm from Chenle, “She'll love this.”

In the early stages of dating, you were always sharing your date plans with him, planning most of them. You made sure Jisung didn’t mind them because being in a relationship isn’t only about one person. Jisung loves the way you talk enthusiastically about all the places you want to go with him and all the activities that you want to do with him. Jisung would give you that adorable gummy smile, eyes shaped like crescent moons whenever he did so. Those small event plans became more detailed, expanding into different topics naturally such as proposals, weddings and honeymoon places and Jisung being in love with everything about you, would mentally take notes of what you love for each occasion.

“I promise,” Jisung stops your words for a second, “We will do them all together.”

There was a time he was caught writing it all down on his phone to which Chenle teased him endlessly, the other Dreamies joining along at their youngest being in love. It’s not that he will forget the things that make you happy, he just wants to be able to see it all so that he can plan the perfect proposal. They promised to help him with every step when he was ready. 

Today is that day.

Jaemin tells him that the hinge of the engagement ring’s box would eventually break with how much he’s fiddling with it but it’s the only way he could distract his nervousness.

“Maybe you should recite your speech once more,” Jeno clears his throat, opening the paper in his hand.

“Jeno loves Jisung, guys. Look at him,” Haechan teased his same-aged friend. His bear-like friend would chase him around the room and Jisung would be shouting at the two to be aware of the decorations around the room.

You came in through the chaos, the door opening inwards where Haechan stops abruptly to avoid his face smashing against the wood and Jeno back hugged him as a result of that. You peeked behind the door, confused but smiling at the two. Before you could question what was going on, Renjun kicked Haechan out the door and welcomed you in.

“He’s not prepared for this,” pointing at your boyfriend who hides behind Jaemin. “Stay here while I talk to Haechan for ruining this moment.”

But the moment wasn’t ruined at all because just looking at how your Pinterest board came into life and the boys slowly giving Jisung the spotlight while you walked down towards him, everything is indeed beautiful and perfect.

“Oh wow,” you breathed out, “It's like my Pinterest came to life.”

Hearing that is the biggest compliment to Jisung who spent hours analysing your saved folders of wedding venue inspirations, trying to find a consistent theme. He gifted the teddy bear on his hand to you, pecking your lips and pulling away with a deep red blush across his cheeks. He readies himself to his rehearsed position after, “Will you marry…me?” Endeared by the way you hide your face behind the teddy bear. Yet, your answer is clear without your words.

Just like how he gives you a kiss on the lips with a “Yes” from you and the silver band around your finger that sealed your happily ever after.

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

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