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#(i also must add that all their flirting is purely for jokes- they will never be anything more than best buds)

2w1ld3st-2dr3ams · 2 years

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𝔸 𝔾𝕦𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕒 ℙ𝕠𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝔹𝕠𝕪𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕, 𝕓𝕪 𝕌𝕫𝕦𝕚 𝕋𝕖𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕟

!!Old Blog Repost!!

Fandom: Demon Slayer

Character(s): Uzui Tengen, Dom!Male!Reader, Special Guests: The wives (mentioned).

Cw: Dom!Reader, Sub!Character, overstimulation, marking, riding, ass eating, slight fingering, semi-public sex, possessive reader, collaring at the very end, forced jealousy (Tengen purposely gets you jealous cuz he’s a slut), strange fascination with Uzui’s tits (or pectorals), implied poly relationship with the wives.

Post type: One shot

Word Count: 2.6k

Mumbles: This is purely wish fulfillment. Possessive reader is my best friend, I love. Man tits supremacy. Also also, I’m accepting anons for this blog, so if you want to have a designated anon name/symbol, send an ask!

Uzui Tengen was a proud man. He knew people admired him and would twist themselves backwards for a shred of his attention. He knew the effect his muscular physique had on people, how he enticed the masses and was the subject of more than a few wet dreams. He knew the power he held and how susceptible people were to it. Hell, the man had three wives; he must have done something right if he could get three wives. What he hated, however, was how his charms would never work on you.

You were also a pillar, a new face that quickly rose up the ranks and became a powerful force to deal with. You were also quite the charmer if all the thank you letters you got were any hint. Still, you remained humble and helpful to the people. It wasn’t long before Tengen noticed you and, after some introductions were dealt with, decided that you would make a perfect addition to his relationship.

And so began the courtship. Gifts were delivered to your mansion almost frequently, roses were waiting for you on your spot during pillar meetings, and you even received the affections of three peculiar women. The wives were informed and readily agreed to your inclusion, even helping Tengen deliver the gifts sometimes and working to integrate you more into the slayer group.

Flattered as you were, you didn’t feel the need to announce that you were now dating the sound pillar. A very private and relaxed person, you were. Not to say Uzui didn’t like that, he would just prefer if you were a bit more possessive over him. He loves feeling claimed after all. So, what better way to kickstart the sexual relationship than to lightly flirt with people right in-front of you!

The first time he did this, you thought he was joking. Some girls came up to him and thanked him for saving their village from a demon attack and he responded by kissing the back of their hands and waving off the deed as a “slayer’s duty”. Very forward display of affection to total strangers, but he was known for being a flamboyant and extra person. You lightly chuckled at his antics and made a joke about telling his wives before laughing it off with him. Ok, so that failed.

The second time he did it, you were starting to suspect he wanted to add more people into the relationship. You two were in a sauna, taking the day off with him and his wives. The wives went to their designated sauna and you two went to yours. Upon entering the room, you could see a few of the men there eyeing Uzui’s body. Uzui wasn’t blind to this either, flexing his muscles here and there. Some men were trying to ask him out even, but stopped once they saw the wedding rings on his finger. Most stopped their staring when they saw the murderous glare you shot their way. Uzui played dumb to this, relaxing into the sauna in an almost obscene way. You accommodated yourself beside him, making sure the men present knew that the man beside you was taken. You couldn’t deny the twisting feeling in your gut, ironic considering you were more than okay with Uzui’s polyamory; you were part of it for fucks sake. However, something about the way he was going about–to your understanding–pursuing other partners came off as disingenuous, like he wasn’t doing it for a romantic connection like with your or his wives. You rationalized his behavior in the end as him being a little drunk–you had gone drinking before this–and tried to enjoy the rest of your time at the sauna.

The third time he did it, you were properly over any excuse he could give. You were at a pillar meeting, and he was more touchy with his pillar friends than normal. You knew that if there was any actual interest, he would go about courtship in a very different way, so why were his hands all over the other slayers but barely ever on you? Every time you got near and tried to act as his dammed boyfriend, you got a half assed “babe!” and then were back to being ignored. The nerve the sound pillar had sometimes. Your patience running increasingly thin, you approached him and dragged him by the arm once the pillars were dismissed. Your grip got tighter when he tried to pull away, ignoring his protests. You were calmer once you got home, though your patience with his antics was running low.

The next seven times he repeated his behavior, your senses were begging you to do something about it. You were up to the high heavens with his fuckery. Seriously, pushing you aside for some good-looking strangers? No way. You dragged him away from whatever pretty thing he had been flirting with, the only words that left your mouth were a very pointed “shut up” at his protest. You managed to bring him to a secluded corner, secluded enough at least. Anyone could walk by and see if you two were to do something, but maybe that was your intention.

–Uzui Tengen, want to tell me what’s been up with your behavior the past few months?

The tone you adapted was demanding, it sent chills down Tengen’s spine. The look in your eyes was the one you used when looking down at demons, an icy glare that conveyed disgust. You were treating him like he was the scum of the earth, a simple pest beneath your feet, yet he has never felt this type of excitement in your life. He came up with some lame excuse about trying new things, using his position as a pillar to rationalize most of his behavior.

–Really now? I didn’t know the pillars were such desperate whores when I got the position. But I’m afraid there’s been a mishap on your part. You see…

You leaned in close, cornering him against the nearby wall. Your arms were caging him, blocking off any escape routes. There was still his strength as a pillar sure, but was he really going to risk angering you even more? You kissed his lips roughly out of the blue, the jealousy you were feeling being carried by your tongue over to his. You scarcely pulled away, going right back in every time.

–You’re mine, darling…

You muttered the phrase against his lips, pulling away to suck a dark mark of his neck.

–And I don’t like to share~

With that, you positioned him to gain better access to his neck, leaving dark marks all over it. You did little to cover up his moans, even pinning his hands above his head so he wouldn’t cover his mouth. You continued your assault to his neck, drawing blood in some places and then licking the wounds. Once you were satisfied with your work–which took a while–Uzui was red faced and panting. You felt the bulge in his pants straining for attention, but you still hadn’t played with him enough. You all but ripped his shirt open, enough to expose his chest, and went down, leaving a trail of marks and bites as you descended.

Cupping his chest with both hands, you made sure to circle each nipple with your tongue. You were looking directly at him, almost teasing him for his disobedience earlier. You gently bit at each nipple, also leaving a bite around the area. You squeezed his tits periodically, bullying sinful sounds out of his mouth. Your boyfriend always had the best boobs you knew, and it would be a waste not to worship them.

Licking and biting all over his chest, you moved one of your hands to play with his nipple while you teased the other one with your tongue. Hearing his sputtered moans and chocked sobs made the experience even better, a cruel plan forming in your mind. You stopped momentarily, pulling down Uzui’s pants down and putting a bit of pressure on his cock with your knee. He looked at you, desperate and panting, begging you to let him come. Who were you to deny him that pleasure?

Going back to his chest, you continued your teasing, pinching and rolling one nipple while sucking and licking at the other. You made sure to give both of them equal amounts of pleasure, bordering on painful. Your free hand squeezed his chest here and there, motivated by his moans of your name and the babbled warnings that he was cumming.

The dark stain in his underwear told you all you needed to know. Uzui was breathing heavily, basking in his post-orgasm glow when you slid a hand to cup his ass. He jumped at the contact, expecting to go home already. You gave him a teasing smile, changing position so you were on your knees with his legs over your shoulders. You were surprisingly sturdy considering you were shouldering such a muscular man as himself. Pulling down his underwear, you kissed up the length of his thighs, marking them and biting hard enough to draw blood. When you did, you licked over the blood in an almost apology before doing it all over again.

Eventually, when the flesh of his thighs was covered with dark hues of purple, red, and blue, you kissed the tip of his cock and went kissing down the length of it. Once you reached his balls, you sucked on each of them before returning to the tip, this time licking your way there. You felt his dick twitch, oversensitive from his previous orgasm. You smiled up at him, watching as his eyes widened in horror at your intentions

–Babe, p-please no I’m s-still sensi-ngh! W-wait, ah~ T-too m-much! F-fuck!

He whimpered that it was too much, yet his hips were eagerly bucking into your mouth. You exaggerated your moans, sending vibrations up his spine and, of course, straight to his dick. Additionally, your fingers worked to open him up, scissoring him slowly and curling inside him. He came much quicker this time, through choked sobs and a drawn out, broken moan. You swallowed around his cock, overstimulating him even more. Pulling away and cleaning your mouth, you examined his angelic face and chuckled.

When you put his legs back on the ground, he almost fell thanks to the overstimulation. You, however, felt he didn’t learn enough. So, you decided to test him. Grabbing a handful of his ass and squeezing hard, you turned him around to face you. He looked alarmed, almost begging you to stop, but his body arched into yours once you commanded him to come closer. Kissing him roughly on the lips for good measure and squeezing his ass again, you eyed him down and asked him a question.

–Tell me, slut, whose ass is this?

–Y-yours! A-all y-yours~

–That’s a good slut, my good slut. Mine. Mine to tease and play with right?

Uzui moaned at your words, feeling himself get hard just from the dirty talk. He managed to respond, though, nodding at your through teary eyes. Your growing smile frightened him, malice twirling in your eyes as lowered yourself to the floor. Once sat, you looked up at him expectantly, demanding something of him that he was scared to find out. After a while it dawned on him that you wanted him to ride you, cruel considering he could barely stand up on his own. Slowly, he managed to get down to the floor without falling and he crawled onto your lap. You took the opportunity to slide down the remained of his shirt off and kissing all. Of course, you also had to leave you mark on him as well. He unbuckled your pants and slid down your underwear, managing to slide your dick into his hole.

Considering this whole thing was very impromptu, neither of you had brought any lube. The sting was painful, almost overriding the pleasure. You, the wonderful boyfriend you were, coaxed him through the pain with gentle kisses to his forehead and caresses to his check and thighs. After he adjusted, he gave you a peck on the lips to let you know he was ready. You took his hand in yours, kissing it, and leaning slightly back, supporting yourself with both hands.

–Cmon, my precious whore, give me a good show. Let the world know who owns you.

With that, he started moving. His movements were slow, his breath was shallow and his thighs were shaking. He tried his best to keep his moans in, but the pleasure was bordering on painful and his poor cock was standing at full attention. After a while, he started bouncing on your cock to the best of his ability. The feeling of having to fuck himself on your cock without lube was something he hadn’t experienced before, the the amount of pleasure he was receiving was mind numbing. Unfortunately, thanks to his sensitive state, he always fell short of enough. He couldn’t stimulate his prostate enough to cum, leaving him panting and begging as he edged himself further trying to get to completion.

Upon seeing the might sound pillar moaning on top you you like a whore, trying to reach even a sliver of pleasure, you couldn’t help but laugh.

–Oh Uzui, look at how good you take me~ You were made for my cock, dear.

The emphasis on the word “my” had him clawing at your chest, head falling against your shoulder as he begged for you to touch him. He got his response when he felt a grip on his thighs helping him bounce on your cock at a deeper angle. He held on to your forearms for support, panting against the skin of your neck while pushing himself faster on your cock.

With a high pitched cry, he came all over your chest and his stomach. You followed along after, cumming inside him while biting his neck one last time. Uzui all but collapsed on your chest, body extremely tired after being forced to orgasm so much. You helped him get off you, watching the cum drip down his thighs. Once you were semi-descent you decided to finally go home for the day. Uzui was not as composed as you. There was cum running down his thighs and his shirt had been torn to expose his bitten up chest and neck.

He also sported a dazed out look in his eyes as he reached for your arm. His legs would fail on him on the way home, so he used you for support. You tenderly kissed him on the forehead, you sweet actions contrasting with the way your arm was positioned around his waist, and helped him walk home. If anyone saw, that was their problem to deal with. You had to teach your slut a lesson now, you were just doing that. Pressing Tengen closer to you, you leaned close to his ear and praised him for a while. He was happy, if the way he shifted even closer to your body said anything.

–I have a surprise for you back home, dear. How would you feel about a collar hm? Let the whole word know who your body belongs to.

At that, he experimentally put his hands around his neck, mimicking a collar, and broke out into a smile. That smile and the look in his eyes that followed told you everything you needed to know. He had set this whole thing up. Annoyed as you were, you couldn’t help but laugh at his plan to get you so possessive over him.

That collar would look so good on Tengen, but you could wait until you got home to tell him that.

#☁️w1ld3st dr3eams #☁️dream world–>(genshin impact)#☁️dream sequence–>(one-shot)#☁️muse–>(uzui tengen)#dom reader #sub character #sub demon slayer #sub uzui tengen #sub uzui

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clarissalance · 3 years

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Wolves

Pairing: Kaeya x fem!Reader, Diluc, Crepus

Warning: minor swearing, cheesy flirt, dry humour

Summary: All men are wolves.

A/N: Muahaha I have came back and brought you the blatant cheesy flirt. Welcome to the first lesson of flirting with Kaeya. Lol, guess who is coming next?

Also, I’m planning to write a wind-trace fic because the game is so fun. (p/s: I waste 3 hours playing it) Guess who is in it?

Okay, the first fic for my lover boy. Please give Kaeya a lot of love!! (*￣3￣)╭

Another beautiful day, another day of wasting the lovely weather to stay inside the study room, bury your head into the pile of books next to you. You let your eyes wander to the window again, gazing rays of light fleeting through the window, golden hues on the wooden floor. Tiny specks of dust accumulate overnight, fluttering around the curtain. Outside, the chirping birds bathing under the sun, casually chilling on the window. Oh, how you wish you would be able to relax like those carefree animals.

“You might burn the birds crips the longer you stare at it.” Startled by the quiet voice, your head snaps toward the blue-haired teenage direction, and you can’t help but scowl at his statement. You can’t be the only person in the room who wants to go out and play. Knowing Kaeya, he’s definitely trying to find an excuse to end the class early.

The only person who is diligent, hard-working, and does not have thought about leaving this room is the young master Diluc. The young man is sitting opposite you, eyes burning holes on the thick textbook.

Archon, how can a 16 years old overly enthusiastic person like him enjoy the excitement of reading Descartes philosophy? Maybe he is the only child in Mondstadt, no, maybe in the whole Teyvat who enjoys something torturous like that. Shivering at your own thought, you shift your chair closer to Kaeya, giving Diluc a terror gaze.

“Aren’t you going to finish the essay?” Pointing at the half-full parchment on the table, you ask. “ Diluc and I already finish it.”

“ Oh, how do I know? How am I suppose to understand Kant and Descartes theories, and then link them to deductive and inductive reasoning?" Kaeya lets his finger running through the silky blue hair and pulls them out of frustration. On the other side, Diluc shoots him a glare, annoyed by his brother complaint.

“How did you guys do it?” Kaeya asks boredly, his finger pokes the quill.

You put your hand under your chin, beaming him charmingly. “ You know Kaeya, it is something I call improvisation. Words just flow out of my tip.” Under your lashes, you can see his cheek dusting pink. Cute!

“ Just read the books, and you will get it.” Diluc unhelpful adds.

Both of you stare at red-head incredulously. Is he being serious?

Like always, Kaeya knows he can not take your advice to heart. One is a genius, and the other is just pure luck.

Suddenly, the door is burst open, and you quickly shove your feet into the shoes, eyes darting to see the intruder. Internally, you hope that person is not lady Elizabeth, your etiquette teacher. Your blood runs cold at the thought. You can already imagine her sharp tones commenting how horrendous and un-ladylike your act is.

“How is your study going?” A deep, strong voice booming from the back, and finally, you get let out a breath. Diluc looks up from his book, beams brightly at the man.

“ We are done with homework, father. These are just extra reading.” Well, for the record, these are his extra readings, not yours. And Kaeya hasn’t finished his 2 feet scrolls of essay yet.

Master Crepus nods in satisfaction. “ If that is finished, you kids can take a break. The young lady from the Gunnhildr family is here with her father. Maybe you can give her some accompanies.” The middle-aged man directs the words at you, maybe feeling guilty for leaving a young lady like you in his two sons care.

Your parents left you in the Ragnvindr care every Summer because of their hectic schedules and frequent business trips at this time of the year. In addition, your mother says it is essential for you to have good relationships with the heir of Ragnvindr and his brother. “Maybe you will need their help someday.” She left it vaguely.

“ Are you guys going to drink again?” Kaeya suspiciously questions, his eyes glinting with playfulness.

“ Hey, what’s wrong with men having a drink together?” Crepus defensively retorts, notices how Diluc gives him a disproving gaze.

“ When you guys grow up, you would enjoy it too.” The three let out opposing noises, clearly not having the same idea as him. The man waves dismissively return back the topic.

“ Let’s come down to greet the head of Gunnhildr first.” He heads toward the door, down the hallway.

“And be nice to the young lady, boys.” The master emphasizes the phrase, his eyes pinning at the guilty-looking Kaeya and the absent-minded Diluc. Finally, he exits the room, not forgetting to close the door.

“ Father says as if we don’t treat people nicely.” Kaeya pouts, right after Crepus footstep drifting away from the study. “ The workers never complain anything about our behaviours, right Luc?”

Sitting next to him, you can't help but let out a snort. He dares to say that? Kaeya raises eyebrows at you, annoyed by your shaking shoulder. The boy in red has a blank face, maybe not interested.

“ First, you guys ignore me for 2 weeks when I just came here.” You burst out in laughter, recalling back at the very first memory when you just arrived here.

“When I tried to approach, you both avoided me like the plague.” Your whole body is shaking vigorously, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. This is too hilarious! Somewhere in between, you can spot Diluc burning cheek.

“ Haha, and haha-later,” You can hardly breath, laughter bubbling up. “Adeline told me your reason is ‘It's b-because she doesn’t have a willie.' ” Dramatically air-quoting, you even imitate their stuttering childish voices. This earns you a pointed glare from Diluc and a smack in the arm from Kaeya, but a good laugh is always worth it.

Both of them freeze on their tracks, faces puff red as tomatoes, steaming almost coming off their ears. If the young heir is to wear a red suit, you are sure he can blend in well with the mansion roof.

Diluc shifts stiffly in his chair and abruptly stands up, heading toward the exit. Maybe he is too embarrassed at the mention of his dark childhood.

“Where-haha, are you going, Luc?” You are still in the middle of your giggling, noticing how Diluc is dashing to the door. Letting out a coughing fit, he quietly mumbles.

“ I'm going down to greet the Gunnhildr family.” His figure vanishes right behind the door, not letting you tease him further. Outside, the painful sound of Diluc tripping on his own feet make you almost fall off your chair. You have too many good laughs today.

“Right, I-I should get going too.” Next to you, the blazing Kaeya remembers to dig a hole and hide. His hand slams hard on the table and the youthful teenager stands up, gracefully heading toward the door. Maybe he wants to avoid becoming another joke.

" Ah, wait-" You follow instantly, but the moment you stand up, something slips, and the next thing you know, the ground is shaking, and you see the ceiling is getting further.

Your first instinct is to grab the closest object, and then close your eyes, waiting for the painful impact with your head. Clench your jaw tightly, and you hold your breath, hoping it will hurt less if you tense your body.

Right after tensing up, you feel someone just grab you by your shoulder, and your feet step on something bumpy. And then, your head makes an impact with something hard. A grunting is followed.

Heart hammering in your chest, you cautiously peek, expecting yourself to see the ceiling, but instead, greet with an unusual sight. A pair of dark colour trouser paired with leather shoes. On top of it is your feet, loosely wore low heel is stepping on that leather shoes. Shit, you stepped on Kaeya. In a panic, you rush down from his painful sore feet, but your head jams in his ribs. He just let out another woeful sound.

This time, you carefully keep your position in place, slowly remove each foot one by one, moving away from him. Craning your neck upward, you finally meet his gaze, his eyes are full of concern and uneasiness, spooked out by your sudden incident.

“Did you hit your head hard?” Kaeya asks you nervously, his voice laced with anxiety. He must have been terrified when you slip. You shake your head, hands grabbing his shirt.

" I should be asking you that. Are you okay?" You give him a worrying gaze, your fingers running along his ribs, checking if your stone head broke anything. " I didn't break anything, right?" Hesitantly, you look into his deep blue eyes, noticing the diamond shape. Has he always has this in his eyes?

Kaeya snorts inelegantly, shakes his head. " Your head is hard as a rock, but that much can't break my ribs yet." This earns him a hit on his arm.

"Hey! I'm trying to be considerate, and this is how you treat me?" You jab him, hand purposely smack his chest, but he doesn't budge an inch. How strong is this guy? This time, you put all the force on your arm, slapping hard on his chest again. The young man in the blues shoot you a shit-eating grin, clearly not faze.

"How is my chest feeling?" He pokes, his palm engulfing yours.

" Too hard for my liking." You give him a complex look, trying to escape from his tight grip but fail miserably. You wiggle your hand again, shaking off his iron clad. Why is he so strong?

While you are attempting to flee from his firm grasp, the young man leans down, face an inch away from you. Flushing at the sudden closure, like usual, you avoid his burning gaze. You hold your breath when your noses almost touch. What is this rascal doing again?

" You shouldn't be touching men like that." Kaeya opens his mouth, saying something completely out of nowhere. You tilt your head in confusion, while your eyes travel down, you notice your hands still on his chest. O-oh, so he is saying about this.

" I don't normally touch random people." You mumble defensively, your eyes lower. " I was checking for your injury."

"They will misunderstand." Kaeya cuts in right after, not accepting the excuse. But why would they misunderstand? You are just being nice, right?

Like he can understand what is going inside your mind, Kaeya reminds you.

"All men are wolves, you should be more be careful with them."

You give him a confusing look.

Kaeya is not one of them, right?

Eventually, he let out a soft sigh and moves back, allowing you to savour your personal space. Just right after your throbbing heart finally calms down, he brings your tight-griped hand in his to his face. Your meet with his alluring look in his eyes. It is pulling you in, telling you to give in the temptation. Plump lips brush your knuckle teasingly, he blows a warm breath on the back of your hand. He gives you a saccharine smile.

" And if not be careful." His husky voice ringing in your ears, the numbing spark runs along your spine. "They might devour you."

#kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich #genshin impact #genshin x reader #all men are wolves #fluff #romance #implication #bad chilhood memory #willies #clarissalance #diluc ragnvindr #crepus ragnvindr #kaeya ragnvindr

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bts-hyperfixation · 4 years

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Mine - kinktober - day 18

Jimin X reader

Yandere warning

I do not condone the behaviour of Jimin in this fic it is purely fictional. Is this is not for you please check out the other kinktober fics I have, none of the other 17 are yandere related

F!masturbation f!oral

It is the first time in a long time you and all of your friends have managed to get away. Six of you had rented a three-bedroom villa in Cyprus. Roommates had been decided long before the trip had even begun

“I get to stay with Y/N” Jimin had called as soon as the reservation had been booked. You laughed at his eagerness. The two of you had been best friends for the longest time it had seemed like the obvious choice, but it was nice to have the reassurance. You had met Jimin while you were in high school, the two of you had attended different institutions but somehow you’d kept bumping into him – at sporting events he’d be there, randomly in town he’d be there, at the most obscure parties he’d be there sipping a drink eyes meeting yours whenever you walked in the room. You’d always joked that fate just wouldn’t let you not be friends. Actually, before you truly became friends you had attempted to make a move on him. Beyond drunk in some football players back garden, you clumsily dropped hints and tried to kiss him. Instead of taking advantage he just took you home. After that, your friendship was solidified. You never really broached the way you’d acted that night. It was buried deep in the rich history of your relationship.

Once settled in the villa, the six of you were lounging around the pool trying to decide what to do that night.

“We could go for a meal? Couple of cocktails? Nothing big we did just get here” someone suggested.

“Oh come, we should definitely go crazy, lets go skinny dipping on the beach” another proposed. Jimin’s gaze fell to you waiting to see how you’d react to the suggestion. He wanted nothing more than to see you naked, but he didn’t want others prying eyes to see you that way. You should be his… only his.

“How about we go half crazy half chill and go clubbing?” your idea coming as a happy medium, the group nods in agreement. You and the other two girls in your group rush to shower and prepare, readying yourself for selfie upon selfie in beach themed clubs. The guys however hang back soaking in the remaining rays before spending considerably less time preparing for the evening.

Once on the clubbing strip it doesn’t take you long to lose most of the group. You make plans to meet back at the taxi rank at 1am and everyone is gone, the boys running in the direction of the bar offering the cheapest beer, the girls into the bar with the hottest guys. You glance along the line of bars and decide on the one in the middle after seeing a girl walk out with the fanciest cocktail you’d ever seen.

You make your way to the bar and order the fruitiest drink on the menu before making yourself comfortable on a barstool to wait. This bar seems to be relatively quiet in comparison to some of the others. It also provides a nice vantage point for you to watch the world go by, occasionally seeing your friends go with it. Not normally one to stray without at least one friend around it makes a nice change of pace. When your drink arrives, you find yourself chatting with the charming bartender in between his customers. He tells you all about what the locals get up to when the tourists disappear. They have huge beach bonfires with tons of food and drink that go on well into the next morning. He even invites you to the next one they were planning a week from now, just before you leave. The two of you are chatting for hours, you get through six of those cocktails before you even realise you are drunk. Its well passed 1am when Jimin finds you still sat there.

“Y/N” the worry is evident on his face as he approaches you “We were so worried why weren’t you at the meet up point? Why didn’t you answer your phone” you glance at the long abandoned electronic.

“I’m sorry Chim I didn’t realise” your words slur slightly, and you can see the anger flash behind his eyes. You mistake it for anger at you for not keeping your promise. You hop down from your perch on the stool and lose your footing. Jimin catches you before you fall and keeps his arm secured around you. He starts to lead you away but not before you can give the bartender your number. Jimin delivers you to the rest of your friends before heading back into the bar, claiming to need the bathroom.

He marches up to the bar seething

“How could you let her get like that” he spits at the guy you had been talking to.

“Dude she’s a big girl, she can handle herself” he just shrugs it off and turns to go back to other customers but the singer isn’t finished.

“You don’t know her like that! You should’ve just left her alone. She doesn’t need a pretty boy like you in her life” the other man is at least half a foot taller than Jimin and twice as broad, but he doesn’t care. All he can think about is how careless he had been letting you out of his sight, letting someone else flirt with what was his. Luckily, the bartender just scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Look she didn’t tell me she had a boyfriend, ill back off it’s all good” he puts his hands up in surrender and Jimin accepts, if only because it will start to look suspicious if he is away too long. That and he has already been away from you long.

The next few days are filled with uneventful beach days and house parties. You were gutted that the cute guy hadn’t texted but moved on regardless. Today the boys were supposed to go off and play golf or something, honestly you had kind of zoned out when they started talking, thinking of all the things you could do when you finally had your bedroom alone for a few hours. Of course, it was great sharing with your best friend, but there are certain itches you were unable to scratch with someone else in the room.

You waited until they had been gone for a while before excusing yourself and drawing a bath in the ensuite in your room. You sink into the water and allow the heat to loosen your muscles. Your music is blaring through your headphones to block out the other girls having a water fight downstairs. You stretch one leg over the bath to give yourself better access and start to imagine all the dirty things you would have done to that bartender given the chance. It’s not long until your thoughts drift to the friend you swear you only thought of platonically.

The boys return from their trip earlier than planned, the golf course was closed for the day, so they had gone for lunch instead. Jimin headed straight upstairs, assuming you’d be outside with the others. The sight he is greeted with makes him immediately hard. You’d left the bathroom door open, enjoying the breeze from the AC mixing with the steam from the water. The sounds tumbling from your lips were sinful. Jimin’s hand move almost involuntarily to his bulge, palming himself through the thin material of his board shorts. Moans that mimic yours pour out of his mouth, getting so loud you can hear them through your music. You cease your motions, but Jimin is so caught up in the thought of you he doesn’t notice until you scream.

“Jimin!” you shout throwing a shampoo bottle at his head as punishment for perving. But he doesn’t leave. In fact, he comes straight in and replaces your hand with his own. You are so shocked by the daring action your convinced it’s a dream. That you’ve fallen asleep in the tub fantasizing about him, and it manifested in your unconscious mind. That is until you realise even your brain couldn’t make you feel this good. His thumb rubbed expertly at your clit as two of his fingers explored your hole, curling in just the right ways. His eyes never once leave yours, daring you to ask him to stop. You don’t think you could if you wanted to, your mouth too busy moaning at every thrust of his hand.

Your orgasm comes quickly with the new assistance, and as you come down you really take in the situation.

“Jimin…” you start but your cut off as he lunges forward lips on yours. The kiss is desperate, almost like there’s something to prove. You return the passion, emotions from that drunk night many years ago resurfacing. He pulls away breathing heavily, unwilling to take his hands off your body. The body you are suddenly aware is naked, as if he didn’t have his hand on your most private area just moments ago. The blood rushes to your cheeks as you bite at your lip, unsure of where to go from here. You opt to go with whatever he chooses to do next. He feels around a pulls the plug out of the tub before bringing forward a fluffy white towel and wrapping it around you.

He carries you from the bathroom and places you on the small sofa in the corner of your shared room, before kneeling in front of you and looking at you like an eager puppy waiting for a walk. His hands trail up your thighs and you open them for him. He takes in the sight of your puffy lips, as if committing them to memory. Then with little hesitation his head surges between your legs, lapping hungrily at your sex, lewd whines leaving his mouth in time to the sounds being drawn from your own lips.

“This should be mine, all mine.” The vibrations of his voice only add to your pleasure “If you needed help you should’ve told me. This all I’ve wanted since I first saw you, all I’ve worked towards” the words don’t fully register in your blissed-out state “I want…. to please you… for you to need me… for you to be mine.” He punctuates each sentence with kitten licks to your pussy. Three fingers have now worked their way inside you and your struggling to focus on his confession, all you know is this feels right.

“Yours... all yours” you pant out, caught up in what you think must just be a kink that he has. For the second time he has you cumming, this time all over his tongue. The noises that escape him would make anyone think he was the one mid orgasm, and they wouldn’t be wrong. Finally having your juices coat his tastebuds proved too much for Jimin as he rocked his hips to create fiction, releasing in his shorts seconds after you clenched around his tongue

Kinktober

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Taglist

@adventuresinwonderlust @thedarkwinterrose @samros95

#bts imagines #bts fic #bts smut #jimin fic #jimin smut #bts kinktober #kinktober #yandere #100

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rbbalmung · 3 years

Text

Pokemon SwSh GPL AU: Character Analysis P2

Hey all! I was going to call this “Gym Leader Analysis”, but I really wanted to talk about Leon and Sonia too. We’re just keeping this series going! Keep an eye out for P3 (It’ll probably be posted in the same night).

LEON:

AGE: 26

ETHNICITY: Half Hispanic, Half Black

GENERAL HEADCANNONS:

Leon is definitely cool uncle friend. I know he is a hot mess and can barely look after himself, but I just feel like he is so good at taking care of other people.

Leon is a man of many faces. He can pump up a crowd one moment and rid his face of emotion the next. It is definitely jarring when someone first gets to know him.

Leon is pansexual. He pretty much flirts with anyone (within his age range, of course). That being said, he isn’t out to the public yet. He isn’t ashamed of it at all; he just doesn’t want his sexuality to be the only thing he’s known for.

Speaking of flirting, there is nobody he flirts harder with than Raihan ;)

Leon was 12 when his dad died, and it hit him really hard. Since the rest of his family took it even harder than he did, he internalised a lot of his pain and focused on trying to help raise Hop. He doesn’t really feel like he ever got the closure he needed.

Oh boy, is Leon protective over Hop. There is a 10 year age difference between them, so he will always feel like Hop is his “Baby Brother”.

(Fun fact: He develops a similar relationship to Gloria when he becomes her Champion Mentor).

Leon is a bit of an adrenaline junkie. He doesn’t really process the fact that some of the things he deals with are incredibly dangerous, which is a bit concerning to his friends. On a more lighthearted note, this means that he will ride any roller coaster without breaking a sweat.

Cannot cook to save his life.

Leon, like Hop, has ADD. That’s why he’s always getting lost/seems to have trouble keeping focus.

SONIA:

AGE: 26

ETHNICITY: White

GENERAL HEADCANNONS:

Sonia is the smartest out of our gaggle of characters and she knows it.

She and Leon entered the GPL together, but she dropped out before going to Hammerlock. Sonia originally joined the league thinking it was something she wanted to do because she was good at pokemon battles, but she quickly learned that the rigorous lifestyle trainers live wasn’t for her.

Sonia had an uncertain period of her life where her best friends had all become gym leaders and she was stuck in Wedgehurst helping her grandmother. She definitely had imposter syndrome when hanging around them, so for a few years, she kept her distance. Attending University really helped her start to find her footing, though she wasn’t sure what branch of pokemon studies she wanted to focus on (until the game starts).

She has a strong pokemon team, but she doesn’t fight with them anymore. She mostly keeps them around for company and they help her with her research!

Sonia is super close with Hop. After becoming champion, Leon asked her to keep an eye on him. They very much have a sibling relationship (though neither will admit it).

She is the friend that is overly invested in everyone’s love lives. Sonia is constantly trying to set everyone up together because she “just loves love”.

RAIHAN:

AGE: 25

ETHNICITY: Black

GENERAL HEADCANNONS:

Tall boy! Raihan is freaking huge, and being around everyone else in the League only heightens this fact. He jokes that the one thing he will always hold over Leon is their height difference.

You would think Sonia is the biggest gossip, but we all know that Raihan is. You can trust him if it’s something serious, but you have to preface that. If you don’t, you may as well kiss your secrets goodbye.

Raihan is the best person to go to when you need help. He has big Gryffindor energy and will literally do anything you need him to. If he doesn’t, you just have to call him out for “being a coward”. His pride will definitely be the death of him.

Raihan has the biggest social media presence despite not being champion. He is really good to his fans and will try to interact with them as much as possible. Will always sign autographs or stop to take a picture.

He met Sonia, Leon, and Nessa through the GPL (they were all in the same season). He beat out Nessa but lost to Leon in the finals. Raihan took the defeat pretty hard and made it his goal to dethrone Leon, so he fought Hammerlocke’s previous gym leader and the rest is history.

He really wants to impress Leon ;)

Bede once challenged his for his throne, but lost. Raihan always brings this up to him now that they’re both gym leaders just to piss Bede off.

He really likes egging on his friends. Raihan never crosses the line, but he’ll say just the right thing to make you challenge him to a pokemon battle.

Puts on a brave face, but definitely lets negative comments get to him.

The chaotic one in the friend group.

PIERS:

AGE: 22

ETHNICITY: White

GENERAL HEADCANNONS:

Such a pure, soft boy. Literally the nicest, chillest person. He just scares people off with his edgy demeanour.

He cares a lot about the people in his town. Since Spikemuth is small, it definitely feels like everyone there is a family. It was the main reason he refused to move the Dark Type Gym to a different location to obtain a Dynamax hotspot. (That, and he hates Dynamaxing).

Speaking of, he is fairly new as a gym leader! Leon nominated him to participate in the GPL after noticing his raw talent in the GJPL (Galarian Junior Pokemon League). Piers didn’t expect to make it as far as he did, but he was truly the dark horse of his season. He made it all the way to finals and wiped the floor with the gym leaders he went up against. He did end up losing, but he used the newfound fame he received from participating to kickstart his band.

Two years later, Leon approached him again and asked if he was still interested in becoming a new gym leader. It started as a small, non league Gym, but his notoriety quickly gained Spikemuth new attention. He joined the League only one year after debuting.

Despite being crazy talented at being a pokemon trainer, Piers really isn’t interested in it anymore. He likes the freedom that comes with pursuing his music career. (It definitely helped that his little sister shaped up to be an astounding pokemon trainer herself).

Coolest big brother ever. Marnie chastises him for pampering her, but they are definitely best friends. They’re the type of siblings that, if one of them goes to the grocery store, the other will just tag along.

Dad Friend. 100% a Dad Friend. Literally adopts Marnie’s friends the second he sees them. (Who are these twerps? Ok, I guess they’re my children now). Would never admit to this fact.

Vegan.

Piers and Marnie grew up in an artsy family with three other brothers (he is the exact middle child). They weren’t rich, but they are all super close and supportive of each other.

NESSA:

AGE: 25

ETHNICITY: Black

GENERAL HEADCANNONS:

Looks are definitely deceiving with this one. Nessa is good at keeping a serene face, but if she loses, she is definitely seething underneath.

So pretty, oh my god. She was scouted by a modelling agent during her GPL season. Nessa only signed after she lost the Finals Tournament. Her career started as something to keep food on the table now that she couldn’t become champion, but she has grown to respect her craft. She likes to use it to promote small businesses and make political statements.

Nessa was trained by the previous gym leader of Hulbury (another water type trainer), so it was no surprise to anybody when she tried to hand their title off to her. Nessa refused to take it without winning a pokemon battle, fair and square.

She is super athletic! Nessa was on the swimming team throughout school and won several region championships! Sometimes during the off season, she’ll help teach swim classes to younger kids.

Best friends to lovers with Sonia! They met during their GPL but didn’t start to get romantic feelings towards each other until 6 years later. Everyone knows that Nessa has a girlfriend, but she keeps the fact that it is Sonia private because she doesn’t want the crazy fanboys to target her.

Nessa takes on a big-sister-role to all of the new female gym leaders (Gloria, Marnie, and Bea). She and Melody will literally strike down anyone who even looks at their girls funny.

Her relationship with Milo is hilarious to anyone who isn’t them. Nessa is convinced that they are rivals and must constantly train against each other in order to get stronger. Milo sees her as his best friend and will bake her treats for when they meet up. (Also, Kabu is their dad. I’m just stating facts).

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yandere-society · 4 years

Text

Sugar Rush

Synopsis: You thought the breakup had gone well, but your ex-girlfriend Yoonji didn’t seem to get the message. When you go out with friends to party on Halloween night, you encounter Yoonji in an unexpected way – and you discover just how far she’ll go to get you back.

Pairing: Min Yoonji x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Yandere themes, blood/mentions of blood, stalking, restraints, safeword violation, torture, suicide mention, gore

Headline: Woman In Sumo Wrestler Suit Assaulted Ex-Girlfriend In Gay Pub After She Waved At Man Dressed As A Snickers Bar

Admin: @psycho-slytherin

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

“Ooh – gah!”

“Y/n?” Mia pokes her head into the kitchen. Her pupils are pure black, and she looks to be crying blood. “What happened?”

“Ugh, I think my mom sent me these roses and I pricked myself on a thorn,” you reply, sucking on your bleeding finger irritably. You lay down the card that came with the bouquet, which reads See you soon! “You look great.”

“Thanks! I’m a student.” Mia steps forward to reveal a school uniform shirt, sweatpants, and flip-flops.

“Uh…”

“Cause I’m stu-dying, get it?”

You snort. “Very nice.”

“What are you? You haven’t changed!”

You sigh. “I don’t think I’m going to dress up.” You can’t shake Halloween’s association with her.

“What? But 66 Below has their ‘free drink for a costume’ thing going on. C’mon, why not?”

You shrug, looking at your bleeding finger. Roses always seem to have it out for you. “It was our anniversary.”

“Wait, is this about Yoonji? Y/n, you broke up with her! If you regret it so much, get back together. The girl was head over heels with you, I’m sure she’d be down.”

You shake your head. “I’m not getting back together with her. Definitely not.” You and Yoonji were together for three years, long enough that you had started wondering if it would turn into forever. As time went on, however, you began to notice unnerving little quirks in her behavior. She was scaring you, and you ended things soon after. “Besides, she was always so neurotic that I would cheat on her with a guy.”

Mia rolls her eyes. “Biphobia at its finest. Well, fuck Yoonji. It’s been months – now get dressed. It’s Halloween, and we’re going out! Besides, Aisha is meeting us there.”

You laugh. “I don’t have a costume.”

“I have an extra that I brought with me – it’s an unnecessarily sexy angel, it didn’t fit my sister. Try it!”

Angel. That was Yoonji’s name for you. You sigh, dragging yourself away from the traitorous roses and following Mia down the hall.

Soon enough, Mia is putting the final touches on your makeup. “Ooh, you’re glowing!”

“I don’t know why you sound surprised when it’s your fault,” you retort before catching a look at yourself in the mirror.

You’re wearing a white silky babydoll dress – the kind that you’d only wear in the bedroom. She’d love it. You’re sporting white fishnets and feathered wings, with a golden headband resembling a halo to complete the look. Mia has done your makeup expertly, with lots of rose and gold, so that you look perfectly angelic. You add your favorite rainbow earrings for some added pride. Still, the outfit…

“Isn’t this a little… risque?” Yoonji would never let you wear something like this out.

“I don’t want anyone else laying eyes on my angel,” she would croon in your ear. “You’re all mine. I’ll never let anyone else touch you.”

“It’s Halloween, Y/n, as long as the goods are covered you’re set.”

You peer out of the window. The sun has set, and groups of kids are out in spades for trick-or-treating. You used to love Halloween – it had always been your favorite holiday, long before you and Yoonji made it official four years ago.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

She stared at you for a long time. “Do you promise never to cheat? You’ll be loyal to me alone?”

You laughed. “Of course! I like you, I want to date you!

“In that case…” She leaned forward and kissed you. Her vampire costume meant you got fake blood all over your lips. “Happy Halloween, angel.”

“Okay. Let’s go.”

Mia nods. Her black contact lenses are… well, they’re not unintimidating. You’re glad to be able to spend this Halloween with her, and not worry about your ex-girlfriend.

66 Below has long been your and Mia’s favorite LGBTQ bar. With its live music, pride flags, and vintage decor, you feel as though you’re stepping into an extra-queer period piece.Yoonji never liked it; she thought it was too crowded. Tonight, almost everyone is dressed up in costume, enjoying 66 Below’s 'first drink free’ policy.

“Mia! Y/n! Over here!” Mia’s girlfriend Aisha gets your attention, waving at you from a booth. You’ve never encountered a more loving couple, and you know Mia’s planning on proposing to her soon. Aisha is dressed as… “Wait, what is she wearing?” You ask as you and Mia join her. Aisha looks like she printed a graded school paper onto white clothing, complete with red marks and typos. Over her heart is a big red F. In response to your quizzical glance, Aisha points to the F.

“Geddit? I’m a failing grade! I specifically wanted to be a final exam, but…”

You laugh. Mia and Aisha must have coordinated that. You scan the bar and note you’re not the only angel. There’s also some devils, ghosts, animals, anime characters, Iron Man, a Snickers bar, two Harry Potters, and – of course – inappropriately sexy children’s cartoon characters. You love Halloween.

“Y/n, c’mon, let’s grab drinks,” Mia says, but her eyes seem unwilling to leave Aisha’s. Their love reminds you of yours… or, what you thought was love. Towards the end of your relationship, you began to realize Yoonji’s idea of love was very different from yours.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll get yours. What do you want?”

“You sure?” When you nod, Mia reels off her order. You approach the bar, smiling at your favorite bartender. “Hey, Jaewon!”

“Do mine eyes deceive me, or is that Y/n beneath the halo?”

Jaewon pretends to be blinded. He’s dressed as what you can only assume is slutty Mario.

“Shush, you. I’ll have an IPA and a margarita, please.”

“Sure thing.”

As you’re waiting for your drinks, the person in the Snickers costume slides into the seat next to you. “Nice costume, angel.”

You stare at him, a brow raised. If you weren’t at a gay bar, you’d think he was flirting. “Thanks, Snickers.”

“Who are you here with?”

You nod at the booth, where Mia and Aisha are now kissing intensely.

“Y’all poly or are you third wheeling?”

You laugh. “The latter. I’m not the relationship type.” Not anymore. Not after you realized how you were so easily manipulated into thinking Yoonji’s behavior was love. But the way she would kiss you, and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, tangling her hand in your hair…

“Yeah, I get you. Couples’ costumes are scary by default to me,” the Snickers jokes. “Perfect for Halloween. I’m Namjoon, by the way.”

“Y/n. Are you here with anyone?”

Namjoon glances around. “I was here with my buddy, but I think he left to fuck one of the Harry Potters. Which is funny, now that I think about it, since he was dressed as Dumbledore.”

You snort. “Oh my god. Well, if you want a group to join, I’ll be third-wheeling over there.” Jaewon reappears with your drinks and a wink.

“I might just take you up on that, angel. Happy Halloween!”

“Hey!” Mia says, finally coming up for air. Miraculously, her bloody tears have stayed put. “Who was that guy you were talking to? He seemed cute!”

“He’s probably gay,” you remind your friend. “He was sweet, though, I invited him to come over if he wanted to – his friend left him. Is that okay?”

Mia and Aisha glance at each other. “Actually, we were wondering…”

You look at the two suspiciously. “Yes?”

“There’s this event happening at 4Sooth,” Aisha says, referencing another bar downtown, “Where the best couples’ costume gets a cash prize. We were thinking… well, zombie student, failing grade…”

Oh. Why did you come here in the first place, then?

“Yeah, you guys totally have a chance!” You offer with as much enthusiasm as you can muster. “Should we go there?”

“The thing is…” Aisha looks at Mia, who shows you the event announcement on her phone.

“Well, the other prize is a night in the ‘Halloween Suite’ at the hotel next door, y’know?” Mia says quickly, a note of pleading in her voice.

Ohhhh. “Right, okay. So… I’ll just stay here, then.”

“Are you sure?” Mia asks anxiously. You can see her on the fence between guilt and excitement.

“Yeah, it’s fine!” You insist. “I’m good at making friends. Have fun!” Just because you have to be alone on Halloween, doesn’t mean Mia and Aisha can’t have a good time.

“You’re the best, Y/n, I owe you!” Mia gives you a quick kiss on each cheek before she and Aisha head out. As soon as they’re out of sight, your smile slips from your face and you sigh, nursing your beer. It’s Halloween, what would have been your and Yoonji’s fourth anniversary, and you’re alone at a bar. Pathetic. You turn to costume-watching, admiring the Big Bird, Dorthy from The Wizard of Oz, a sumo wrestler, and several queer or genderbent characters from all sorts of media.

Namjoon, the Snickers, is looking at you from his seat at the bar. He raises a quizzical brow at the now-empty booth, and you roll your eyes and shake your head in response.

He purses his lips, tipping his glass in acknowledgement.

Wonderful. A bar of candy pities me. You wave, motioning for Namjoon to come join you. You were both alone – why not?

Almost as soon as you lower your hand, several things happen at once: a blur of tan crosses your vision; you hear a loud BANG, and feel a sudden, incomprehensible, searing pain shoot through the back of your head; something warm trickles down your face; there are lips against your ear, whispering words you can’t understand; far-off shouts and screams; and the world goes dark.

“Told you that you’d cheat… you’re just a whore for them… but now you’re all mine again.”

“Mmnn…” you groan, blinking hard. Your head hurts – everything hurts. You feel like you’ve been hit by a truck. You’re lying on something soft. Did you go to bed? You move to rub your temple, but your wrist is tugged back by… rope. Rope? Your eyes widen and you begin to struggle furiously against the restraints, yanking until you feel your hands are going to detach themselves. “What the fuck?” Your wrists are tied to bedposts. Shit. Were you drugged? Was it Jaewon the bartender? “HELP! Somebody! Help me!” Your shoes are gone, and – oh, no – your white dress is stained and splattered with blood. Yours? When you try to pull yourself up, your vision floats before you. You can feel warm blood trickling down your head, tickling your scalp. You fall back onto the pillow, trying to force your vision to focus. “Help me…”

Suddenly, you hear heavy footsteps, and a voice that makes you freeze.

“Looks like I nabbed myself a pretty little angel. Talk about fallen from grace, right?”

Your cries for help freeze in your throat. “Yoonji?”

And in walks your ex-girlfriend, the blow-up sumo wrestling suit deflating around her. That flash of tan… so she was there, at 66 Below. Her pristine black bob hasn’t changed in the last few months, and her makeup is perfectly done. As the suit empties, she steps out of it, wearing her favorite outfit of black tights and skirt with a cream blouse.

“Let me go,” you croak. Your heart feels like it’s being squeezed in her fist. Your fighting spirit seems to have evaporated in the face of the woman you once loved. It doesn’t make sense… or does it make too much sense? You knew she was possessive – it’s why you ended things. But this? “Yoonji… please. Please.”

Yoonji pretends not to hear you, instead walking around the bed to inspect your restraints. Of course, now that you’ve collected yourself, you recognize her bedroom. In fact, it’s not your first time being tied to these same bedposts.

“Red. Yoonji, please, red,” you try desperately, hoping the safeword might make her relent. For a moment, her cool expression falters. It’s quickly replaced with raw fury.

“You want to try calling red?” She snarls, looking right at you. “You cheated on me. You broke up with me!”

“I never cheated!” You cry, kicking out at her in vain. “You always thought I was cheating on you – I didn’t do anything!”

“I saw you,” she replies, raising a hand and bringing it down hard on your cheek. Your head jerks to the side and you can taste blood. Your face is on fire, it must be, how can it hurt so badly? “It’s our anniversary. I saw you wave at that candy bar.” Another slap leaves your jaw aching. “Fucking whore, do you flirt with every man you see? Girls like you can never be faithful.”

“We’re not together anymore!” You yell, pulling hard on the ropes. They’re much stronger and more coarse than any Yoonji has used with you before, and you bite back a yelp of pain at the rope burn. Your head hurts so much, and your chest is heaving with anxiety. Is she going to kill you? “You’re insane. Let me go – they’ll find out I’m gone. They’ll call the police.” After you and Yoonji broke up, you moved in with Mia. Surely she’ll be concerned when you don’t show up.

Yoonji laughs softly. It’s the way she would laugh when she had a secret. “Well… you did text your housemate to tell her you were going home with the Snickers bar. She’s not expecting you – and that contest is going to keep her at the hotel all night anyways.”

Your heart drops into your stomach. How does she know? “What text? Where’s my phone?”

Yoonji lazily fishes your phone from her pocket. “You really haven’t changed your password?”

“Give that back! Let me go!” You twist your hips and kick hard in her direction, scoring a tiny victory when your phone goes flying from Yoonji’s hand. In the split second that she’s leaned over to retrieve it, you try to see if you can feel any slack at all in the ropes binding your wrists. Yes! There’s something. Maybe your situation isn’t hopeless after all.

Your spirits fall by the wayside when you see Yoonji rise with a terrifying smile on her face. “What a frisky angel, you like to kick, don’t you? Maybe I should tie those lovely legs too.”

“No- don’t touch me! Yoonji, c’mon…” your voice breaks when you see her pull a length of rope from her closet. “W-what are you going to do with me?”

“What am I going to do with you? Exactly what I’ve always wanted to. I’m going to make sure no one else will ever touch you again. You’re mine, angel, you always have been.” Yoonji reaches for your legs and you kick wildly, desperate to escape. Your heart feels like a racehorse in your chest, and sheer adrenaline numbs the throbbing pain in your head.

“Stop… struggling!” Yoonji hisses furiously as she makes a grab for your foot. “Ungrateful bitch. Why are you always trying to get away from me? All I did was love you!”

Now. You slam your heel into her chin, and her head snaps upward with the force of your kick.

For a second you feel like she’s about to crumple to the ground, but instead she lowers her gaze to stare into your soul once more.

“That wasn’t very nice.” Yoonji massages her jaw, and when she speaks, blood drips from between her lips. She begins to pace around the bed, avoiding your kicks. “Bad angel… maybe you’re just a devil in disguise, huh? I always knew you were a dirty fucking liar. And you didn’t even say thank you for the roses.”

The roses? Your eyes widen. See you soon. They were from her? “Fuck you,” You say in response, surreptitiously tugging and relaxing the slack on your right hand’s rope. “I never cheated. You were just scared that I could love men and women. Well, guess what? I loved you! For years, until I realized you never loved me back.”

“What?” You see horror cloud Yoonji’s face. “You fucking bitch. ALL I did was love you!”

You shake your head, determined to keep her talking. She’s out of range of your kicks for now. If you could just get your hands free…

You feel suddenly woozy. Are there two… no, three Yoonjis? Shit. Now is not the time for a concussion.

“You never loved me. You were obsessed and insane. Don’t you hear yourself?” You say, your volume increasing. You know the walls are well-insulated, but she’s still in an apartment complex. Maybe the neighbors will hear? Another tug on the rope. You twist your wrist, and for a second you can feel it loosening. “You only wanted me so that no one else could have me!”

“You’re lying.” Maybe it’s a reflection of your bloody dress, or the blood dripping from her mouth, but for a second her eyes seem to shine red.

You shake your head. You’ve almost got a hand free. “You’re the one who’s lying, Yoonji. You’re lying to yourself.” Dizzy again. “You – ngh – you can just let me go. I won’t tell anyone.” Almost got a hand free. How long has it been?

Suddenly Yoonji is looming over you. “Ah, but you forgot.” She spits at you, and a mouthful of scarlet blood hits the white pillowcase. Some of it splatters on your cheek. You keep tugging at the tie around your left hand. It’s much tighter than your right. She’s rummaging in her bedside drawer, and that look in her eyes… you’re scared. “I might’ve let an angel go, but you decided you’re not an angel. You’re a devil. And where do devils belong?”

“Uh…”

“That’s right.” Yoonji shows you what she’s retrieved: a lighter. She walks around the bed to the bottom right corner of the duvet. “Devils like you should stay in hell.”

“Yoonji. Yoonji, what are you –” She lowers the lighter to the duvet, and you see the cloth begin to smoke before a small flame forms on the bed, flickering but gaining in strength. “YOONJI!”

“I told you, Y/n.” Her voice is lower than you’ve ever heard it as she wipes more blood from her chin. “I’ll never let anyone touch you again.”

“C’mon, please, this is too much,” you say, your voice bleeding into hysteria as you thrash around, trying to kick the burning blanket away from your body. The fire begins to grow, and in your frenzied movement you accidentally burn your foot. You jerk away, yanking at the ropes on your wrists. You’re wearing fishnet stockings – if those catch fire, it’ll travel all the way up your body in a flash. “Let me go! Let me go, you psycho!”

Yoonji makes a pouty face. “Poor baby. Let you go… or what?”

“Please!” You shriek as the fire grows, the smoke now visibly rising from the bed. “Yoonji, I’m sorry, please, please…”

“I missed hearing you beg, my love. What a delicious Halloween treat. And if you need to blame anyone…” Yoonji pauses and smiles. The blood has gotten between her teeth, giving her a terrifying undead look. “Blame that Snickers bar.”

With that, she leaves the room and closes the door behind her. Fuck. You tug furiously at your right hand, where the rope has significantly loosened. You can feel the heat from the flames, dangerously close to you. “C’mon, c’mon…” You’re not going to die here, what a terrible headline. Who would write your obituary? You fight through another wave of dizziness. “Fucking hell!” With effort that leaves your muscles trembling, you wriggle your right hand out of its ties, and it quickly flies to your other hand. Maybe you’ll survive.

Unless she locked the door. Yoonji is four floors up. From that height…

You quickly work through the knots on your left wrist, which Yoonji tied so tightly you can’t feel several of your fingers anymore. Faster. Your nails are broken from tearing at the rope, and at one point the nail on your middle finger catches and gets stuck fast in the rope. The fire has spread to the carpet, and thick, black smoke is billowing up. You take a deep breath and brace yourself for the pain – it’s nothing compared to burning alive – and yank your hand back.

“Gah!” It’s a furious pain, for so small a point. The fingernail is ripped off your finger and hangs there as your nail bed bleeds freely. You force yourself to keep moving, to undo the knot or rip the rope off completely but the pain makes it hard to breathe… or is it the smoke quickly filling the air? With movements made jerky by panic, you at last find a loose end and pull it through the knot. The rope around your wrist loosens and you’re able to slip your hand out. You’re not going to think about the fact that you can’t feel three of your fingers or move them properly. You’re free. You look around wildly, rushing for the door. You rattle the handle, but it’s locked. You can try to kick through it? But what if Yoonji is on the other side of the door, and shoves you back into the flames? The window next to the bed is locked too. But… You bend down and, straining, lift her entire bedside nightstand up. As soon as you stand your legs wobble and threaten to collapse, and you feel blood continue to drip down your neck and back. You stumble, almost to the window, but–

“Ugh-” You lose your grip and the nightstand crashes to the floor, almost on your foot. At that moment, you’re tempted to break down completely. What if you just… gave up? If you go through the window, you’ll probably die in the fall. Through the door, if you can even kick it down, and Yoonji will surely be waiting for you. You could just stay here, where at least death is a merciful certainty.

No – what are you thinking? You have to live. If you die, Yoonji will be free, and you won’t be able to tell your story. If you die now… she wins.

You adjust your stance and, arms trembling, lift the nightstand once more. The air is getting harder to breathe, you don’t know how much longer you have. You heave the nightstand at the window and it crashes straight through the glass, smashing down onto the street four stories below. Wait – the street. It must only be a little past midnight, because you can see some teens and adults still walking the street in costume. Passersby!

“HELP!” You shriek, waving your hand. You’re cut and bleeding in several places from flying glass, and you surely look fit for Halloween.

Wait. Hang on. One of the adults laughs and points up at you. “Great costume!” he yells.

“No, no, no…” the smoke is getting thicker, the fire closer. “Please- please help!” What you need to be a strong yell comes out a broken sob. “There’s a fire! Please help me!”

Two groups seem to realize it’s not just a Halloween prank, and you see some people whip out their phones to call the police. Several more rush forward, but clearly have no plan other than to stand beneath the window.

The police will take too long. You blink through the smoke, which is now visible through the window. You will not burn alive. And you won’t let Yoonji walk free, not after this. You brush the broken glass away from the windowsill and carefully step onto the ledge, a bleeding angel in the night. Your wings and white dress glow in such contrast to the walls that it looks like you’re flying.

You hear gasps and screams, and a “Don’t jump!”

Idiot. As though you have a choice. No, you only have one choice left, and you’re making it count. “My name is Y/n L/n,” You yell, forcing down a smoky cough, “And the person who killed me is Min Yoonji!”

No time to think. You step forward off the ledge, closing your eyes. Forty feet isn’t that far to fall, maybe you’ll make it.

Fucking Snickers bar.

#yandere #yandere bts #bts #yoongi #suga #yandere!yoongi #bts genderbend #halloween event #yandere-society #yandere x reader #bts halloween fic #gxg #wlw #bts gxg #yandere!suga #yandere!yoongi x reader #bangtan

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stomp-that-ho-regard · 3 years

Text

Needed to get this campaign wrap-up rant off my chest...

This is the specific part that irked me:

MATT: "While he never voiced this in game, Caleb's feelings for Jester have been an important part of his journey. Did he ever come close to confessing? How was playing such a long lasting, one-sided love after our last campaign's bittersweet ending for a Vax and Kiki?"

LIAM: I was never going to do romance of any kind, one-sided or otherwise in this campaign, because I felt like we really explored that pretty heavily campaign one. I think you'll remember Jester drove Caleb nuts at the beginning of the campaign, and so it was nothing that I ever expected at all. And then when they were in, was it Rexxentrum wherever the dance hall was. And I alluded to this earlier, dancing was never anything that I imagined for Caleb, but it was just like, and you were asking him to dance, Jester was asking him to dance. I was like, "Oh, this could be an interesting way to like sort of seed my story, that we're not really around yet." And there was something about, not the dancing, but the way that Jester treated him kindly after the fact like his response was to be like, "I'm going to go fucking vomit in a street, and just be by myself," and she wouldn't let it happen. And that was just like this first little moment where someone was like-- Everyone in the Nein-- I want to answer another question while I'm answering this. I wonder if we had gone that different direction that we talked about earlier where we didn't go crime, and we had gone into Rexxentrum earlier, and if Caleb had started interfacing with his past earlier, I think he would have had a gnarlier, more severe trajectory in this campaign. If he had touched his past sooner, it would have changed what he was, but he spent way too much with the Nein, for when we finally did catch up to them, it was too late, that he'd already been healed enough by the Nein, it didn't matter. And everyone in the Nein had an effect on Caleb, they all had their love like in different ways; Yasha, he could relate to. Caduceus was like a guru that confused but inspired. Fjord, who Caleb thought was real hot at the beginning of the campaign, was a great leader and, like, just I don't know, I feel like he was his closest friend, outside of Nott, early in the campaign. Beau brought tough love. Veth was this ultimate support no matter what happened. But what started to happen with Jester was that she was treating Caleb like the person-- She was treating him as if he was the person he should have been. Like none of it had happened. And he became like-- It just got in him, but he would have never wanted to saddle her with all his shit. And the difference, like-- There was also a point in the campaign where I could see, in Yasha's absence, Beauregard warming up to her, and I already quietly been thinking and going like, "Well, I'll just have this little thing that maybe fans will see," and some did early on, like it was silent. It was all silent. And then I was like, "Well, Travis is never going to do it." Oh, Travis just came online, so the entire side of the table quietly like, "Oh," at Jester for a while. But Caleb knew that Beau and Fjord would've been far better for her, because they would have put aside anything for Jester and made her their number one. And Caleb knew that, as much as she like changed him and helped him in a very specific way, and and he quietly fell in love with her and like a Jane Austen, I'm never going to say it. That he would never have set aside the things that he was trying to do. He would never have set aside trying to either get back to his parents and fix that. He would never set aside trying to undo the Cerberus Assembly if he were strong enough, so, like, that was too all-consuming, and so he would never wanted to saddle her with it, so it was always going to stay inside. And there were multiple times in the campaign where Jester teasingly needled Caleb, and I was terrified that you would say the word "Insight check," multiple times.

LAURA: I think I did it once.

LIAM: Well, you must have rolled really low when you did because I did my best to like pull faces at you, and poo poo it, and do something silly to dodge out of those situations.

LAURA: Are you secretly in love with me?

LIAM: And yeah, you said that, and I went like (blows raspberries) that's fucking ridiculous with my face, and we moved on. (laughter)

LAURA: It's so funny when you joke about the whole table being in love with Jester because Jester had, like, no concept of it at all. Her whole upbringing was everybody being in love with her mother, and her whole, and she knew she's so different from Marion, in her appearance, and the way she presents herself that-- To her, that is what people want, that's what everybody would be in love with. And so there was never-- She would never have thought in a million years that Beau would have been interested, or that Caleb would have been interested, or that Fjord would have been interested. She tried to be Marion and when she was coming on to him in the early campaign, and obviously, it did not work. So she was like, "Okay, then-- Nobody's-- That's not going to happen for me." So it just like turned off in her brain, like nobody will.

TRAVIS: There was a moment where that stopped, too, because like you doing the thing that you thought your mom did and that worked, you know, Fjord's like, "I've never been flirted with before, I don't know what this is. Stop doing it." All that behavior stopped, and you like let the happy Jester fall away. Like, I think it was on the sea, right, like with the jellyfish scene. And then it all happened.

MARISHA: That's when you started crying. There was a few times where there was these moments of Jester smiling, but tears were streaming down her face.

TRAVIS: Yeah.

MARISHA: Trying to be the happiest person in the room. And then, yeah. I don't know. Jester always had this, but I think why Jester is so enigmatic, and so easy fall in love with is because she is the purest person in the room, so that it invites this kind of--

LIAM: Which doesn't even mean innocent, it just means the purest person--

MARISHA: Pure, yeah. It's just very endearing and it got in the way-- and this is almost going to sound condescending-- but almost in the way that a child is where if a little girl runs up to you, and they're like, "Look at this card, I think I want to cover the whole thing in glitter." You kind of have no choice, but to be like, "Yeah, that's a great idea."

LAURA: Yeah.

MARISHA: Cover the whole thing, and like, even if it's bad. She felt like almost like the perfect exercise for "Yes, and-ing." Like, the concept of "Yes, and-ing," because half of them were terrible ideas, but you were like, "Yeah, brilliant."

LAURA: Also, I feel that people are drawn to somebody who sees the best in them, right? You're drawn to somebody that loves you, and she just has an unconditional love for like everybody--

LIAM: She changes everyone she meets, including a hag in a hut.

MARISHA: Yeah.

TRAVIS: Yes.

Laura’s answer here is, for the most part, true. Jester was always pretty oblivious to people being into her. That was a pretty clear character trait. However, that still doesn't explain her roleplaying choices after Beau’s confession. And I wish someone was able to ask her about that and get a direct answer. Why was there a behavior shift? Was it just Laura trolling and teasing Marisha about it, or was Laura actually trying to force Beau to confess directly?

There was a pretty condescending post about this that I found in the discourse tag that said: I know it won't happen cause people never cared about what she says anyway, but Laura confirming again that Jester never knew about Caleb and Beau's feelings for her should be enough to stop the dumb takes like "bj was happening before the hiatus but then they decided to change it" or "Jester was falling in love with Caleb and she changed it" or whatever.

‘Laura confirming again’ Again? What other time has she said this?

‘Jester never knew about Caleb and Beau’s feelings’ Laura said that ‘She would never have thought in a million years that they would be interested’ and included Fjord in that section too, so whatever point this person’s trying to make is moot.

Countering that, I want to say, that nothing in Laura’s answer seemed to give the impression that Jester would have turned down Beau (or, hate to say it, even Caleb) had they actually confessed to her. There’s nothing in her answer to imply that Jester could not have reciprocated those feelings had she known. Nowhere did I get the implication that Jester was only ever interested in men and that Fjord was the only viable choice. (Laura still has not addressed Jester’s sexuality. FJ shippers love to ignore that, and still swear up and down that she’s straight.)

Now when Marisha piped in, she didn’t even focus on Beau’s feelings, and the depth of what she was feeling at the time. Instead, she’s wrote them off. Again. Intentionally minimizing and essentially doubling down on what was said in ep108. That it’s just so easy for anyone to fall for Jester, even going as far as calling her ‘pure’. Basically infantilizing her, by comparing her behavior to that of a child which yes, Marisha, does sound condescending. (You can add that to the list of ‘sparkles’ ‘confetti’ and ‘shiny’.) And that’s it. That’s the extent to which she talks about it.

Also, the fact that the Beaujester stuff was only brought up (very briefly and casually), as a sort of ‘b’ topic to WJ. Liam got to go off on this whole extremely long-winded reminiscing answer because he got a direct question about it. It’s like, “And none for Beaujester!” Once again, Caleb’s feelings being given more weight than Beau’s ever were.

So, another kick in the teeth. Not so much from Laura. But from Marisha. The person who MADE THE CHOICE to inject Beau developing feelings for Jester into the canon narrative. The way Marisha talks about it now, it’s just a complete mind fuck as to why she made the decision to have Beau confess at all. Why even open that door? Even if she felt, at the time, that Beau would feel this way, she could’ve just kept it to herself. And not made waves about it. And not doubled down on it the following week. And not had continued for at least THREE MONTHS after that to roleplay Beau STILL having obvious feelings for Jester. I mean, come the fuck on.

Look at ep93 with the Hag. When Jester was telling the group that she gave the Hag something she had never given anyone before. Beau frowned and said, “Did you kiss her?” Beau had it so bad she got jealous of the Hag. Jealous of a fucking monster. Then ep94. Beau wanted to climb a tree to get a better look at their surroundings. Out of the blue, Jester smacked Beau’s ass to give her Guidance. She shot up the tree like a rocket and Jester was impressed. Marisha had to make it a point to say, “She thinks it’s the Traveler. It’s just ‘cause Jester smacked my ass though. I’m just very invigorated by THAT.” And of course ep99, with the sunburn compliment.

Marisha was definitely keeping this thing going, all the way up until the hiatus.

So why the weird answers? Why the vagueness? Why does she seem so insistent on driving home to the viewers that Beau’s feelings were/are no big deal. Does she think that talking about Beau’s feelings to the fullest and reminiscing (like Liam did) on a few of their moments would be some sort of insult to BY?

I will never stop being baffled.

#op #campaign wrap up bullshit #long post

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akechicrimes · 4 years

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so i wanted to talk about why i really like the way royal portrays the interactions between haru, futaba, and akechi.

in royal, insofar as i can see, haru is treats akechi with a sort of kindly polite working relationship. i actually cannot determine whether or not that’s because it’s akechi, or if it’s just because he’s a boy. her relationships with girls tend to be focused on spreading positivity and being kind, while she doesnt seem to be anything less than formal and shy with the boys--except mona, of course, but that’s a little different because he’s a talking cat.

futaba, on the other hand, seems to treat him like a potential traitor for comedic effect, which i can’t imagine she’d be doing if she thought he was going to betray them for real. (we already know what futaba did when she knew akechi was going to betray them, which was put everything on lockdown and bug his phone.) on the other hand, people do tend to make jokes about things that worry them, so akechi’s betrayal does seem to be on her mind either way.

haru is, notably, the first person to advocate for bringing akechi on the team, seconded by futaba. both of them cite the fact that they need the manpower, and both of them seem to be of the opinion that if he betrays them again, they’ll just squash him like they did the first time.

which is a very notable difference from the direction fandom interpreted that relationship. and i like the way that fandom interpreted haru and futaba as potentially never forgiving akechi for what he did, but i do think there’s a lot of merit in royal’s take.

in royal, haru and futaba’s concern seems to be primarily that he’ll backstab them again. specifically, when they’re discussing akechi joining the PT a second time, both of them reference akechi’s betrayal rather than necessarily his murders.

for some reason, the issues with wakaba and okumura aren’t even on the table. even when futaba and haru talk about losing their parents a second time in their third-tier awakenings, they talk generally about losing someone they love, like they’d died of illness, or an accident, or natural causes--like it was something unfortunate for which nobody is really to blame.

to be fair, it seems that they’ve already blamed someone: shido, who’s in jail. the situation has been resolved. they’ve done what they can to hold the people accountable to task. futaba at one point specifically says that shido is the one who killed her mother. i don’t think haru gets as far as saying “shido killed my father,” but considering the way she behaves in royal, i’m going to wager she’s on a similar page.

the stance here seems to be that although akechi may have really truly and outrageously fucked up, the deaths of wakaba and okumura are still ultimately shido’s fault. shido was the one who ordered those hits, for one. for two, shido’s the person who created and masterminded the entire government conspiracy that eventually led to both wakaba and okumura being silenced for what they know. and, considering that okumura was the one ordering literal assassinations of his business rivals to grow his own business through his connection with shido’s conspiracy, and that okumura was assassinated because shido’s conspiracy cut him loose, we should also be fair and add that okumura’s death was partly his own fault anyway.

so, from what i can see, the attitude isn’t necessarily that haru and futaba have completely forgotten that akechi is technically the person who shot and killed their parents. but they’re also very aware that the situation was more complicated than that, that shido is primarily responsible, that akechi was a victim in his own ways, and, at the end of the day, they kind of do need him to get back to reality.

the vibe is almost like, sort of like the p5 fandom, the PT don’t really know what to do with akechi. he’s not outright a villain. he’s not one of the PT. they’re sympathetic, although understanding that he’s done terrible things. what’re you supposed to do with that?

i think, in particular, this is reflective of a very interesting dynamic that’s widespread across royal: everyone in royal seems to be much more forgiving of akechi than akechi is.

forgiving might be a too strong of a word, but at the very least, the phantom thieves’ treatment of akechi is almost hilariously understated considering what he’s done. they sometimes rib him in mementos, but not really any more seriously than they rib, say, ryuji. there’s several mementos dialogues where people make small talk with him--nothing super personal, but general platitudes that you’d exchange with someone you don’t know extremely well, like talking about your health and good sleep. they’re notably wary of him as a potential threat on several occasions, but obviously not so wary that ann won’t cheerily talk to him about thrift-shopping.

as uncomfortable as i imagine those group dynamics must be, from an outside perspective it’s fucking hilarious because akechi is literally just the awkward villain-turned-friend that sometimes they invite out to parties but he just stands there awkwardly in the corner because nobody knows what to fucking do with him, least of all akechi himself.

but from a more serious perspective, i do think that again, there’s a bigger issue at play.

saying “akechi is not the one who killed okumura, it was shido” erases the fact that akechi was--apparently--willingly involved in the operation. i think royal makes it clear that he had mixed feelings on it, and wanted to back out of it on several instances (see: his confidant with akira where he hints at bad things to come, and warns akira not to proceed), but in the end, he did still go along with it. he sure did walk into that interrogation room and make the conscious decision to shoot joker in the head. in the end, even if it wasn’t enough to refuse shido’s orders, akechi still did have some measure of agency.

in order to respect that akechi did have agency in the situation, that means he needs to be held accountable for his piece of it, which means that he feels he needs to be held accountable and tried before the law.

so, any amount of apparent forgiveness from the phantom thieves--particularly from haru and futaba--would seem like they’re ignoring that he was (or at least felt like) a willing participant in shido’s conspiracy.

(i would go into a further discussion about how in royal, akechi seems to hold agency as a good purely in and of itself. agency should not be given up under any circumstance, even if the rewards for doing so are immense. it doesn’t matter if maruki is solving worldwide problems with his gigantic dreamworld palace, what matters is that it’s removing free will and the ability to make your own decisions for your own life. akechi holds that nothing is worth losing your agency--nothing, not even a perfect happy end. it means a lot to him. enough that he’d insist on it, even if it means that this means insisting that he should be held accountable for all his bad decisions and murders.)

that, in turn, probably explains a lot about akechi’s insistence on returning to reality, his insistence on going to trial and being held accountable in joker’s stead, his stand-off-ish behavior with the rest of the phantom thieves. haru’s and futaba’s and the phantom thieves’ general willingness to shift the blame onto shido goes against akechi’s own insistence on himself as a meaningful actor in his own life.

...in any event. with that analysis of royal’s character interactions out of the way, i sort of do want to address the fact that some people are unhappy that royal did not address wakaba’s and okumura’s deaths more, or centralize haru and futaba’s losses in royal’s narrative. i’ve seen 1000 takes and 1000 fanfics in which futaba and haru hold akechi accountable for their parents’ deaths and do not forgive him for it. akechi is, quite literally, the person who pulled the trigger on both of their parents, so it’s fair. and i’ve seen a lot of fanfics and fans who’ve built up haru’s and futaba’s entire characterizations on their inability to forgive akechi.

i’ve seen discourse saying that “even if it’s not really akechi’s fault that okumura died, haru’s feelings are still valid.” which is also true, of course. she did grieve over her father, and in some universes, haru would not come to the conclusion that shido is primarily to blame. i think there’s a really compelling story in which haru knows logically that her father died because of his own mistakes, flirted with a government-wide killing ring and got hiimself killed for it, and she knows that it’s shido who killed okumura, but she still cannot find it in herself to really forgive akechi. it’s a very good and cool angle that i personally like a lot.

i like those stories too, is what i’m saying. it’s not the route that royal went with, clearly. but i sort of wanted to throw my hat in the ring about why i think that the interactions between haru, futaba, akechi, and the general PT in royal are also interesting in their own right.

EDIT: literally JUST saw this really good compilation post of haru and akechi’s mementos dialogue!!!

#mine #meta

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bymoonchild · 5 years

Text

Get You The Moon (M)

Pairing | Taehyung x Reader Genre | Fluff, smut, angst / College!AU, enemies to lovers!AU, football!AU, jock!Taehyung x student reporter!OC Warnings | Explicit language, sarcastic banter, dirty talk, blowjob, facefucking, eating out, cumplay, cum-dumpster, fingering, rough sex, slight dom!tae, spanking, degradation, unprotected sex, ass-pining, tae has the phattest ass and dick but wbk Summary | Life has its ways of fucking with you, but you know you’ve hit 50 feet below rock bottom after being tasked to do a profile feature on Kim Taehyung, the varsity football captain, for your school newspaper. Pure torment awaits you, but this is alongside glassy eyes, pink cheeks and conflicted feelings that you’ve never dared to imagine with the likes of the devil incarnate. Word count | 19.6k

“What a surprise, you’re alive.”

It is exactly that fake enthusiasm and subtle mirthful nuance that’s too familiar to your liking that gives rise to the arch of your eyebrow. You don’t even need to look up at the owner of the voice to picture the shit-eating smirk that belongs to none other than your editor-in-chief-slash-best-friend, Min Yoongi. Such morbid greetings have been long established as an inside joke between the two of you due to the peculiar sense of humour that you two share.

This is just how he likes to start his mornings. Being the systematic person he is, he has his own morning routine in the newsroom. Regardless of the pile of work on his desk, he’ll first make a beeline for his first cup of coffee of the day, after which he will come sauntering your way to provoke you with his laundry list of snarky remarks – about work, being tired, being alive and dead, about how bureaucracy sucks, the negative sides of capitalism and what not. Well, you two share a deep-seated sense of misanthropy so albeit provocative, his laments are refreshing in the morning – a literal morning boost of positivity from negativity.

“Not for long buddy,” you shrug, looking up from your laptop and your eyes land on Yoongi, who looks just as dead.

“I barely slept last night – was busy rushing my essays. Essays, might I repeat. So it would be great if you don’t have much for me today, although I know you have a kink for torturing me.”

At this, the edges of his lips curl up and you instantly register the meaning behind the sinister smile: your impending doom.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I do have something for my most talented and gung-ho reporter and best friend.”

“Kindly elaborate,” you smile back acrimoniously, squinting your eyes in distrust.

“It involves a profile feature of a popular varsity athlete.”

An involuntary groan escapes your lips almost instantly. Athletes are the worst people to interview.

“That’s not even the worst part yet. As we’re celebrating the 50th anniversary of our publication this year, we’ll be doing a special spread on honorary members of the school, including club presidents, captains and valedictorians. Oh, which reminds me – maybe I should feature myself for being the most overworked Editor-In-Chief because this publication is sucking my entire soul, but anyway, I digress.”

He brings up his mug to his lips. It’s only 10am, but you wonder how many cups he has had, eyeing the pallor of his face.

“I’ve already assigned the other reporters their respective targets for the lack of a better word, and left the toughest nut for you to crack,” he grins smugly and that’s when it hits you.

Clocking you square in the face.

“Yoongi, no you didn—”

“Yoongi, yes,” his smirk widens at your aghast expression, “A profile feature on Kim Taehyung, for my most talented and hardworking reporter.”

Kim Taehyung.

Your biggest nemesis.

The boy who lives to torment you.

Literally everyone in school and their mother (or their dog) knows him because 1) he’s quite a looker (he’s known for having a god damn symmetrical face and you’re honestly baffled and amazed at how people even took the time to check the degree of symmetry), 2) he’s the captain of the varsity football team (cue the huge hoo-ha about varsity captains), 3) he’s probably slept with everyone in school and their mother (okay, that’s an exaggeration, but he is a dumb fuckboy to the bone), and 4) he’s also the poster boy for the department of narcissistic and annoying fuckboys, star football player and all that jazz.

“What the fuck?”

You challenge the carefully hidden astonishment reflected in Yoongi’s eyes, disregarding how the other reporters in the newsroom have jumped in their seats at your abrupt outburst.

“You know I fucking hate him!”

Yoongi, per contra, does absolutely nothing to show the slightest of empathy, simply because he has none, and even finds the scowl on your face hilarious, “Which is exactly why you’re the perfect person for this story.”

“There must be someone else whom I can cover. Please, Yoongi – I really, really don’t want to take this up.”

“Listen,” he sighs, running his hand through his fingers and you know that signifies that his sigh is genuine, “As your friend, I’m really sorry that you’ve been assigned to this story, but there’s no one more suitable than you. No one does profiles as incredible as you. Look, you just need to follow him around for a week – observe how he is in class, what he does after class and how he performs on the field. I can promise that it won’t be that bad.”

You frown, “As my friend? Then… what about–”

You don’t miss the 180 change from his previous expression, the soft in his comforting smile replaced with a sneer that is all malign in a blink of an eye.

Panic starts to form a thick film in your throat.

Lowering his voice by two tones, he snarls, “As your Editor-In-Chief, I only have three words for you: suck it up. The journalism world is a dog-eat-dog world. You don’t and can’t choose your beats. What you can do is to go out there and come back with a story, or this newspaper is going to flop at your hands, along with your GPA.”

Such audacity.

You glare at him in disbelief, squinting your eyes at the sneer that’s still plastered on his face.

“As my friend,” you mimic, dragging each word, “Fuck you bitch.”

Sighing out loud with absolute disregard, you clench your fists to tamper down the vexation that threatens to escape your throat, “But for the sake of my GPA and this publication that is my precious baby, I’ll take this up. Very unwillingly though, I must add. But if he refuses to cooperate, he can suck my ass.”

“You have my seal of approval if you meant that literally.”

“Fuck off—”

“Anyways, you won’t need to worry about Tae. I contacted him just now – he’ll be expecting you at practice on Monday.”

You roll your eyes, “Tae? I can never understand how you two are close.”

He inches closer to taunt you further, “May I remind you that Tae and I literally grew up together in Daegu, so he’s like my little bro. Anyways, he also told me to tell you that he cannot wait to see you.”

Nose scrunched up in disgust, you groan out loud at the duality before you, before flipping your friend off and burying your head in your palms.

But as much as you hate to admit it, Yoongi’s right. You have to suck it up.

If doing this profile is the only way to save your GPA and the publication, to hell with your pride and Kim Taehyung. You’re going to do this story well and you’re going to make sure that nothing, absolutely nothing – including Kim Taehyung and his fuckboy antics – is going to fuck that up.

Not in this economy.

Building up to Monday aka the Big Day as what Yoongi calls it, while you refer to it as the Day You Die), Yoongi has left you very specific instructions for the profile feature, expecting you to find some easy way out of this. He normally leaves you on your own, knowing that you’d always return with a solid piece that he won’t be able to find anything to nit-pick on. But for this task, he has ordered you to follow the boy around for a whole damn week and expects you to submit your voice recordings for accurate transcription.

Right from the get-go, you can already deem this profile to be the most stressful and frustrating piece in your entire journalism career. In other words, it’s a sham. A popularity stunt. A hoax. An opportunity to give Kim Taehyung even more clout and undeserving commendation than what the resident fuckboy deserves.

The day you finish your story will the best day of your life because you won’t ever need to interact with the said boy ever again.

To say that you hate him would be an understatement – sure, hate is a strong emotion, yadda yadda yadda, but the cacophony of arrogance and smugness that radiates off him makes your face scrunch up in disdain whenever he’s around. Though you would never allow him to have such power over you, he has tormented you countless of times with his shameless flirting whenever he has the chance to, and by simply existing and being his annoying, putrid self. You really don’t know why Taehyung has taken a liking to teasing you and pushing your buttons, ever since Yoongi introduced the two of you two years ago.

The sun is dripping down on the soccer field with delicacy, casting its golden light on the grass patch when Coach blows the whistle from the sidelines. Right in the heart of the field, Number 6 springs into action on the field, shouting commands at his teammates who listen to him intently.

Indeed, there are many other guys running all over the field, decked in the same jersey, but you could instantly recognise the outline of Taehyung’s ass, your eyes fixated on how the fabric of his shorts hugs his lower half like a second skin. Much to your dismay, one of your thirsty friends had hooked up with Taehyung last Christmas and didn’t allow you to forget the details of his bomb dick game and the thickness of his ass, so it’s fair to say that you have a good gauge of how his ass looks like. Not that you take pride in that knowledge though.

A smug smirk plays on his lips when he scores another goal as he instinctively pumps his fist to the air. You observe how he proceeds to run around the field, high-fiving and patting his teammates to spur them on.

Being the captain of the precious varsity football team, Kim Taehyung naturally carries an aura of confidence, which easily moulds into palpable cockiness. He’s infuriatingly talented and thus, his big ego sadly, and he also doesn’t have much of a filter and says anything that comes to mind. You’ve come to a conclusion that his language is an unfortunate concatenation of sexual jokes, sarcastic taunts and indolent mischief.

As if having sensed your gaze, he cranes his neck in the midst of practice and shoots you a seemingly innocent grin when he spots you standing awkwardly at the sidelines, hugging your notebook like they’re a piece of armour shield. But you know that there is more to his smile than just innocence. Still maintaining eye contact with you, he grabs the hem of his shirt to dry the sweat on his forehead and smirks in satisfaction when your face drops disgruntledly.

After calling for a five, he jogs up to you, his smile unwavering. Behind him, his teammates have all huddled together, pretending to drink up and talk amongst each other, but their eyes are all glued on the interaction between you and their captain.

“My my, look who we have here. Isn’t it my favourite girl cheering me on during practice?”

Taehyung’s awful voice pierces your eardrums, thick with honey and mixed with some other cloyingly sweet substances.

Your annoyance reaches its peak level as your eyes narrow to slits when he stops right in front of you.

You could leave right this instance. In fact, you very much want to, but your conscience is holding you back. While you’ve contemplated smoking your way for the profile one too many times, you know that Yoongi, being the smart shit he is, would be able to see through it (and also, Taehyung might just snitch on you) and the mere thought of a disappointed Yoongi just bites you.

“Look,” you spit, facing him properly for the first time, “I’m here against my own will because I have a story to write and that’s the only reason why I am even here. So I would very much appreciate it if you could quit acting like a jerk and let me do my job so I can leave ASAP.”

You’ve never been this up-close with Taehyung before, not when all you ever focus on around him is putting on your bitchiest expression, coming up with spiteful retorts, or pretending that you didn’t see him in the hallway which is actually impossible because he comes for you like a plague.

“Sssh, did you hear that?”

“Huh—”

“That’s the sound of you begging for my help.”

A taunting smirk inches its way onto the edges of Taehyung’s lips and you want to sock him in the face and wipe it off his lips. Your glare seems to only spur it to grow wider, as if somehow your clear distaste for him is amusing to him.

“Going to fake a quote for me again?” He continues, the shit-eating grin never leaving his face.

“If you continue pissing me off, I just might.”

For your previous article which involved having to interact with Taehyung, he had refused to answer your questions properly, spouting nonsense and idiotic pickup lines that served of no value to your article. You just needed a one-liner from the egotistical football captain, but all he did was obliterate your gossamer thin patience and last few braincells. Given his insistent reluctance to cooperate, you eventually made up a quote for him – something along the lines of “I don’t really think much about life – I just YOLO it because you know, YOLO” – and made sure that it reflected him badly.

The quote eventually became the unofficial quote of the year and it gives you so much satisfaction, knowing that it made a small dent on Taehyung’s reputation. On bad days, you’d think of the fake quote and laugh to yourself. Needless to say, he was enraged and even sent complaint emails to Yoongi for false reporting. Journalism ethics? You don’t know her.

“Oh yes, where were we?” He draws out each word with a smooth tone, unfazed, “We were talking about how I hold your fate in the palm of my hands, Princess.”

You hate that nickname he has for you. You don’t even remember when and how it started or what led to the nickname. Grunting out loud in abhorrence, you stop to contemplate kicking him in the shin and running away, but you lack the courage to carry out the former because if you’re to ever hurt the precious varsity captain, you can jolly well bid farewell to your collegiate life.

But before you can even take a step away, he stops you by blocking your passage with an even wider smirk. If he is fucking ecstatic at your rage, he’s determined on making sure that you’re well aware of it.

“Seriously, if you don’t want to do this, let me know right now so we don’t waste each other’s time.”

“Oh Y/N,” he calls out dramatically and you cringe at how your name rolls off his tongue, “I did promise Yoongi-hyung about that profile, but I didn’t promise him that I won’t make your life a living hell.”

If it’s possible for your eyeballs to roll out of the socket, you’re pretty sure it would have already happened by now because Kim Taehyung is impossible.

“Okay,” you exhale, gathering your thoughts, “Then I will, for the better of mankind, start this civilly. But let me just say that I’ll take the mantle of being the bigger person here, which isn’t hard because you’re technically not a person.”

“Of course, I’m more than just a person,” he laughs and a devilish smirk, way too familiar against your own will, tugs at his lips, “I’m Kim Taehyung.”

“Did I ask? Can we just get this over and done with so that I can stop being around your despicable presence, stat.”

“Now, that’s not the way to treat your interviewee. Also, Yoongi said you’ll be following me around for a week. You’ll be around my ‘despicable presence’,” he holds up his fingers in the air to quote, “For an entire week. You think up for it, babe?”

He waggles his eyebrows with a mischievous glint blazing in his eyes, enjoying the scowl on your face.

“Fuck off, Kim.”

His eyes light up when he realises that he’s hit a nerve.

“Every breath you draw in my presence annoys the heck of me,” you edge, words slowing down to a pace that’s normally used on children.

His large, almond eyes continue to regard you with keen interest.

“That’s funny. I thought that after all this while, you would be used to me scoring right into your goal.”

“Get your head out your ass.”

“Oh, I’ll have you know that I have a bomb ass. 10 out of 10 would tap.”

He laughs with an amused grin on his face, the same one he always has whenever he riles you up, finding entertainment in your fury. You hate his laughter. He’s always laughing, his smile huge and genuine and his out of this world personality knocking girls off-kilter. You hate it. Everything about it.

“What the fuck,” you spit scathingly, mouth agape in utter disbelief at the boy in front of you, or Satan himself wearing the flesh of a human.

You end up only asking two questions from your entire list of 15 questions, but it’s as though you’re stuck at square one because his answers are either half-assed or pure nonsense, and boy are you pissed.

“Hey, you’re alive.”

You look up from your misery and see the very cause of the said misery, standing at the door with an eyebrow raised. You don’t miss the extra sarcastic bite to his voice and the irritating smirk on his face, but you’d like to believe that he’s actually impressed by your unyielding resilience.

“Highly arguable. Mentally, no, but physically, yes I am. Not for long though,” you grunt, tone imbued in sarcasm because you are seriously done with this profile feature and you can’t wait for this torture to end.

Lifting your tumbler, you suck on the dregs of your coffee and groan louder at how it’s no longer hot. Lukewarm coffee is like torture to the tongue, much more than burning your tongue. You’re one of the annoying customers who would request for extra hot coffee, because you simply can, and you’re used to them faking a smile and then rolling their eyes when they’ve turned on their backs.

“I take it that something happened?”

“Oh nothing,” you shoot him a sarcastic grin, “Except for the fact that the bastard just toyed with me and wasted my Monday evening. If this is how it’s going to be, I say that we stop immediately.”

“Oh come on, it’s just the first day! I get that Tae can be playful and says a lot of stupid things, but he’s actually a really nice dude.”

“I just don’t like him,” you mumble and your voice trails off upon realising that you sound like a bratty preschool kid who can’t get along with the others.

Yoongi scoffs at your remark to correct you, “You don’t like anybody.”

“As if you’re not the most misanthropic person I know.”

“Wow, this ain’t about me,” Yoongi throws his hands up in the air in faux-defeat, “This is about you and Taehyung. Can you at least tell me why you hate his guts?”

The empty remark that brews on the tip of your tongue dies instantly and all you can lamely mutter is, “Over my dead body.”

“Seriously? Why?”

“Because I’m embarrassed.”

“Wait, what? Did you embarrass yourself in front of him?” Yoongi urges with a confused frown, but your lips are still sealed.

“Something like that.”

“Would you be so kind as to elaborate on that?”

“Nope, continue suffering.”

He rolls his eyes in disbelief, before flipping you the bird.

The next two mornings, you find yourself dragging yourself across the campus and past the newsroom, just to show up at the football field. Upon your arrival, the entire team ditches their warmup session and falls into a collective silence, openly gawking at you and your every movement. The sudden change in the atmosphere elicits an uncomfortable shiver to crawl up your spine. Looks like your social anxiety is about to have a field day.

“Captain, you have a visitor!”

One of the boys hollers with a playful glint in his voice, breaking the silence. At that, some teammates instantly gather in their own circles to whisper to one another, while some discuss your presence without bothering to be discrete. Is this… a jock version of Mean Girls?

“Tae! Your girl is here again!” Another dude shouts and you turn around to shoot a glare at the owner of the voice, eyebrows furrowed.

“Call me his girl one more time and I’ll make sure your legs won’t make it to finals.”

“Damn, a feisty babe. Noice.”

Another guy comes up to you – Jungkook, you recognise him because he’s in one of your classes. His build towers over you, while he flashes you a small, shy smile and you can’t deny that he is pretty cute with his dimples and doe eyes, which makes him look like a little bunny, but all hope is irrevocably lost when he opens his mouth.

“Hey, I think I lost my number. Can I get yours?”

“Seriously?”

The earlier guy who calls you feisty butts in, “If Taehyung isn’t fucking you right, call me yeah? I’ll make you feel real goo—”

“Minjae, leave her alone.”

You hear a displeased grunt from behind you and turn around to an annoyed Taehyung. His grip on the football in his hand tightens, before he shoves it roughly at Minjae, throwing his teammate off completely.

“Guys, please leave Y/N alone. She’s here to interview me, so I’d appreciate it if you could keep it in your pants and have some decency or respect for yourself.”

The boys instantly mutter a sorry, the peculiar sharp undercurrent of their captain’s voice has them heaving themselves upright in alarm.

You turn your head slightly to look at Taehyung, who’s wearing a vexed frown on his face – well that’s a first for someone who is joking around and laughing. Seeing his strong side profile irks the fuck out of you because someone this attractive shouldn’t be such a big nuisance. What an unfortunate waste. Of course, you would rather be impaled than admit this.

“If you don’t go back to warmups, you’re getting another 5 more laps around the field!” He raises his voice to the entire team and they scramble back to their warmup positions like ants.

After making sure that the team is back on the grind, he spares you another look and leads you to an empty bench away from the warmup area.

“Pretty sure you could have handled it yourself, but you looked uncomfortable,” he smiles apologetically, resting his hand on the back of his neck.

“Well, if you didn’t make me wait, I wouldn’t have needed to go through that.”

“I was helping this freshman who needed extra help with his dribbling. It’s a one-on-one thing so we were in the clubroom.”

“Whatever, it’s cool.”

“Anyways… I got an earful from Yoongi-hyung this morning. He said that I was being too annoying yesterday, so yeah, sorry about that…” His voice trails off and for once, the smile playing on his lips is sheepish, instead of a cocky one.

“Huh?”

“I said I’m sorry. And also for my teammates’ behaviour. Don’t know why they act like this every time they see a girl on the field.”

“D-Did you just apologise to me? Is everything okay, like you know, with your brain?”

“What?” He scoffs, but the smile on his face still remains, “I’m not an asshole. I will apologise if I crossed the line.”

“Kim, not to burst your bubble, but you’ve crossed the line with your annoying and rude ass self since the beginning of time.”

And there it is again. That little grin tugging softly at his lips as his eyes lock themselves on yours.

“Not going to lie, that’s part of my charm.”

You hastily ignore the stirrings of intrigue in your chest, deciding to stop with the chit-chat, “Yeah sure. Let’s just start with the interview. I’ve got a class in an hour.”

He extends an arm to gesture you to sit down on the bench, while he settles down beside you and leans back in an elegant slouch, one ankle crossed over a knee.

“So, let’s talk about the freshmen players this year. Anyone potential successors yet? Do you have a lot of one-on-one trainings?”

“Wow, we playing 20 questions now?”

“Kim,” you sigh loudly with every intention of making sure that he knows how done you are, “I’m literally here to interview you. If I don’t ask questions, then what’s the point.”

“I was just kidding!” He throws his head back with a chuckle, “All right, shoot me with your best shot.”

“Okay,” you clear your throat, “You’re called the dark horse of the school. How do you feel about that?

“Do you like horses?”

“What?”

“Bet you’ll like mine.”

You cup your face in your palm, as your heaving suspire lowers into an interminable groan, “Kim Taehyung. Before I—”

“Hmmm, so a dark horse…” he begins slowly, “I think it’s a respectable and fulfilling title. It’s when you amaze them with how unexpectedly good you are. It’s about really proving your competence to everyone who didn’t think highly of you before, so I’ll take it with pride and satisfaction.”

You nod your head as he speaks and when he finishes his sentence, you ask with a raised eyebrow, “Practiced that much?”

“Every day before I go to bed.”

“Clearly.”

“Well, I can show you first-hand.”

“You fucking wish.”

Thankfully, Taehyung gradually stops playing around and actually starts answering your questions properly without giving bullshit answers or making suggestive remarks.

At your last question about his legacy in school, he even elaborates without any prompters and you gratefully take everything down, nodding once in a while when he brings up a good point.

“Wow, you’re writing all these down while I’m talking? Can I see?”

You casually hand him your notebook and he gapes dramatically at the notes you’ve taken.

“These are just scribbles, but they’ll help with transcribing later on.”

“Wow I have to say, I’m impressed and also a little turned on right now.”

Rolling your eyes for the nth time in disbelief, you grunt, “Kim, you do know that you’re still being recorded, right?”

“Of course,” he smirks, raising instant flags for mischief etched across his lips, “Here’s a little note for Y/N who will listen to this when she gets home – I think she’s hot as fuck.”

“You’re shameless.”

Laughter bellows from his lungs, “That I am. I’m not going to deny it.”

Afterwards, he offers to take you for a tour around the clubroom, showing you the medals and trophies that the team has snagged over the years. As he elaborates on the trajectory of the varsity team, the noisy chatter of other students outside fades into background noise like timing in your ears.

He shows you a picture of the team taken from two years ago and your eyes nearly pop out at how small and out of place freshman Taehyung looks. He’s grinning widely at the camera, surrounded by his poker-faced burly seniors, painfully sticking out like a sore tongue, even more so with his scrawny build.

“You look way too happy in the picture that I actually have second-hand embarrassment,” you mutter, but Taehyung manages to catch it.

“Hey! I was an excited freshie and they didn’t tell me it was a formal picture.”

When you leave the clubroom that day, you take along with you new knowledge about Kim Taehyung. Firstly, you learn that he has only been playing football for two years, which comes off as a shock and almost a form of embarrassment when compared to the other guys with at least a decade of football experience, thus deserving the title of a dark horse. He’s always been more of an arts dude, but he got sucked into the sport when he and his best friend from high school Jimin walked past the football tryouts during orientation.

Secondly, either his cologne or shampoo has a fruity undertone and this is derived from the fact that he is suddenly standing so close to you that you can feel the warmth of his breath and see each glimmer of darkness that surfaces in his orbs, alongside the humming warmth radiating off of his body.

A chill runs down your spine and your heart starts slamming against your chest out of nowhere at the proximity. You’re not used to being so physically close to him and you try not to think about how his alluring scent has you biting the inside of your cheek.

Taehyung seems to know his effect on you because his lips start to spread into a wolfish grin, inching closer to you.

“Your fuckboy antics won’t work on me, Kim.”

Your voice doesn’t come off as strong as you wanted it to, but you hope that he doesn’t catch on.

“You sure about that, princess?” His breath fans out across your cheeks when he speaks, causing instant warmth to scatter over your skin in the rise of gooseflesh.

Irritation bubbles like a brook throughout your entire body.

It’s taking every single willpower of yours not to headbutt him in the face. You desperately want to, but because you’re obviously the bigger person here and you need to prevent yourself from being expelled from school, you could only jab your finger harshly at his chest.

“Try it on another chick, yeah?”

He uncoils from his slouch and rises to his full height, exuding a smug superiority.

“What if you’re the only one I want to try it on?” He teases, his voice echoing with timber, rich and velvet.

You shoot him a leer, accompanied with the imaginary daggers to his face, trying to ignore the steadfast flutter in your belly. By the anger that undulates from your pinched features, he knows he’s left you tongue-tied, and this only spurs his grin to widen, your clear distaste for him a pure entertainment and amusement to him.

“I hate you.”

You grit, but your voice comes out as a mere squeak. You feel like burying yourself from the weight of his longing gaze. Clearing your throat, you push the strange flutter that’s settling in your belly as you hoist your bag over your shoulder and speed-walk away from him, missing the way he smiles at your departing silhouette.

The shift in Taehyung’s demeanour on the field is beyond commendable, almost palpable to everyone who has their eyes on him. When he’s on the field, there is no fooling around, only the giving of his one hundred and one percent to the game.

Moving agilely with astounding precision, you observe how his sun-kissed skin shimmers with a thin sheen of sweat on his neck, while his eyes sparkle with intensity.

All right. There is some truth that Taehyung looks kind of cool (do people still use that word to describe someone?) and charismatic like this, all serious and immersed in the game. You just wonder if he could be the same when answering your questions.

His brown mop of tousled locks is damp, parted haphazardly, while his jersey clings onto his frame, drenched with perspiration. His biceps strain against the fabric and the veins on his exposed forearms are given prominence when he grabs onto the ball with his fingers effortlessly. Taehyung’s not the buffest, but he is lean with just a nice amount of toned muscles.

When your eyes trail further south for an infinitesimal moment, his tight football pants accentuating the swell of his thighs and the curve of his ass on full display come into view.

Fuck. Your eyes divert back up to his face when you realise what you’ve been gawking at. As the sun hikes up in the sky, it casts a pretty golden glow on his profile, highlighting his sun-kissed skin. You push away the sensation of a small bud blooming in your chest when you meet his gaze, especially when he shoots you his signature boyish smile, a foil to your frown.

Well, looks like someone is happy to see you.

A disconcerting feeling starts to stir in the pit of your stomach when Taehyung approaches you without wiping that smile off his face.

“Good job for surviving two and a half days with me. You ready for today?”

“Replying yes or no literally won’t make a difference at all.”

Shrugging, you lift your tumbler to sip on your coffee before pulling a face.

“Fuck,” you curse quietly under your breath, unexpecting Taehyung to catch it but he does.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing… My coffee isn’t hot anymore.”

“Oh—”

“I bought this tumbler not long ago and it’s supposed to be good at trapping heat, but it just sucks and it was kind of expensive? I’m so angry I need to get another one—”

You stop your rant abruptly when you realise that Taehyung’s been staring at you quietly. He even urges you to continue with a nod of his head.

“Sorry, I’m oversharing.”

It’s not your fault that you tend to get too passionate when talking about your distaste for lukewarm coffee. For something that’s your bloodline, it has to be the right temperature, or else.

“Is that your pet peeve?”

You nod, “You can’t judge me though, or I’ll punch you.”

“It’s cool. If your greatest nemesis is lukewarm coffee—”

“Wrong. My greatest nemesis is the boy who’s currently talking to me right now.”

“As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted,” he rolls his eyes in faux-annoyance, “I absolutely detest coffee, big ass pills that I can’t swallow, and bread crusts.”

“Wait,” you stare at him pointedly in a cursory silence. “You don’t like coffee?”

“Nah, never liked the bitter taste.”

“Okay…” You drag your word out, “But you can just add sugar? Not that I do, I like it bitter. But please elaborate on the big ass pills and bread crusts. For a big boy like you, I have to say that this is pretty amusing.”

Laughter rises in Taehyung’s lungs at the pure confusion on your face, “I can’t swallow pills. Used to always puke them out. I usually crush them and yes, I know it tastes even worse but really, how else can I take my medicine? And bread crusts? Incardinate of evil. I’m really picky when it comes to bread.”

You can’t help but laugh at his dramatic expression. You don’t think you’ve ever had a proper chat with Taehyung that didn’t include insults, remarks, or retorts of any kind.

“You’re one weird boy, Kim.”

The conversation carries on smoothly, tucking itself into every available space, and you’ve got to admit that not only is Taehyung not bad at holding a conversation, he’s also a decent listener and listens quietly when necessary. This really piques your curiosity – maybe Yoongi’s right about him, maybe there is indeed a decent side to him. You’re just not sure why Taehyung loves to push your buttons. It’s as if he wants you to give him the time of day.

From your periphery, you realise that Taehyung’s looking straight at you and you freeze at the weight of his piercing gaze, feeling hot all of a sudden. A stunned silence encompasses the space between you, sitting heavily in your lungs.

After mustering up some courage, you look up to meet his eyes to reciprocate his actions, but your gaze diverts to the ground when you realise that his eyes are piercing right into your soul, like they’re searching or yearning for something.

“Kim,” you clear your throat awkwardly, “What are you doing?”

“Looking at you,” he replies matter-of-factly, his intense gaze never leaving your face. You want to bury yourself alive when you feel a persistent heat simmering under your skin, tinging your cheeks a translucent pink.

“And may I know why?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” The right corner of his lips curls up into a smirk. He’s raising a challenge.

“Spit it out.”

“Do I say the truth or?”

“Not that bold after all, huh?”

“Well,” he opens his mouth again with a devious little gleam in his eyes, “I was thinking about kissing you.”

You don’t miss how he is openly gawking at your lips and your eyes instinctively rest on his as well, which are somewhere between the colour of peaches and cherries. You’re not sure of what washes over you, but your mouth takes the better of you. And for the first time, your words aren’t clogged in your throat.

“Do it then.”

You look at him through your lashes, dark and coy, eyebrow raised, testing the very limits of Taehyung’s restraint.

The erratic beating of his heart is in sync with yours, but it increases within a second when you notice his gaze fall back on your lips from your eyes. Suddenly, this sparks your curiosity and all you can think about is how good Taehyung’s would feel on yours.

“W-What?”

“Do it, Taehyun—”

Before you could even mutter his name, his lips are suddenly smashed against yours.

Goosebumps rise on your skin in its wake when his tongue grazes along the flesh of your lower lip, and you, suddenly so enthralled by the boy in front of you, part your mouth to meet him halfway.

You don’t know how long it has been. With his lips pressed against yours, you lose track of time, watch it fly away in the form of the licks on your mouth. Taehyung slackens his jaw to deepen the kiss, cupping your face with his hands to bring you closer to him. His tongue brushes against the underside of yours and then he recedes slightly before tangling for dominance.

Your name leaves his swollen lips in a dulcet whisper, causing your heart to spike in your chest and your stomach to unravel and knot again. You press your palm over your chest to calm the injured patter of your heart against the depths of your stomach.

The way his eyelashes that are almost impossibly thick and dark flutter just a fraction with each breath, brushing slightly against your nose and you squirm at the intimacy of the moment.

When he finally parts away, you feel like you’ve been electrocuted. But your stomach drops again when a pretty blush blooms over Taehyung’s face, crossing the bridge of his nose and spreading over his cheekbones. His hands continue to rest on your shoulders, but his touch is so hot and tantalising that it makes you want to melt.

Taehyung has always called bullshit on all those romance novels that rave about how lips can taste as sweet as strawberries. But you taste like the strawberries from his grandparents’ farm – sweet and delectable.

When he licks his lips again, he shudders when his senses register the honey musk of you and the ghost of your afternoon coffee. He hates bitter coffee with a passion, but you taste so fucking sweet. Overly saccharine that he feels dizzy.

You don’t talk about the incident the previous night and you’re grateful that Taehyung doesn’t act any differently. It was most probably the adrenaline that took over you and also perhaps your curiosity because you’re a reporter and reporters are supposed to be nosey, curious and also dreaming about kissing the varsity soccer team’s captain. Yep, absolutely.

Your pride be damned. While it kills you to admit it, it’s common knowledge to everyone in the fucking school that Taehyung is just really nice to look at, be it when he dons his jersey, a button up or his colourful printed clothes. There is no doubting his ravishing features – his sharp nose, big almond eyes, long eyelashes, perky lips and the little moles that adorn his face.

Unbeknownst to you, you cross paths with Taehyung in a day more often than you think you do. Too often for your own good. Most of the time, you can hear him before he comes into view. His boisterous laughter that highlights a lilting charm to his low voice fills your ears like a plague. It is as though he has intended to haunt you with his loud presence. And though you’ve already made up your mind to avoid him unless it’s necessary to spare him a glance, it’s quite impossible. After all, you have one job – and that is to follow Taehyung for a week.

“Hey Princess!”

You could almost hear the sneer hidden in his coo and envision it with perfect clarity, that infuriating spark in his eye whenever he manages to rile you up. You don’t turn around, your feet bringing you further away from him, but eventually come to a halt when he jogs up to you, blocking your way of passage.

“Princess!”

“I heard you the first time.”

“And you still ignored me? I’m hurt.”

“What do you want?” You grunt loudly, having absolutely no qualms about showing your displeasure.

He slings his football bag over his right shoulder and smiles, “You know, you shouldn’t be mean to a person who just bought you coffee.”

“Wha—”

With a goofy smile pulling at his lips, he pushes a tumbler towards you that was initially hidden behind his back.

“You said you don’t like lukewarm coffee and a styrofoam cup wouldn’t keep it warm by the time I pass it to you, so I got you a tumbler… Besides, you said yours wasn’t good so I figured that I’ll just get you a new one.”

Warmth violently flares in the full of your cheeks, tipping your ears pink at his words. You try not to let the fact that he remembers get to you, but he fucking remembers.

You are a college student to the bone. Turning your back on coffee would be a sin. But coffee from Taehyung? In a tumbler that he purposely bought because he fucking remembers what you said?

“How—”

He beams, simpering at your speechless self. He thinks your shocked expression is adorable, doing nothing for the wildfire claiming the land of his chest.

“Did you, like, stalk me or something?”

“Pfft. Maybe?” He runs a hand through his hair with a lopsided smile, eyes filled with mirth.

“You’re so weird.”

Despite being surrounded by the steaming, teeming mass of students in the crowded hallway, the moment you two share is as private and as comforting as sitting on the sideline bench alone.

“Enjoy your coffee! This tumbler has very good reviews, I checked! So your coffee should be still hot. If not, text me and I’ll give them a bad review.”

“W-What? Tae—”

Before you could call out for him, he has already scrambled away and blended in with the crowd. You deadpan mentally when you realise that the entire hallway is gawking at you and the tumbler around your hand. But what’s more alarming is the strange tightness in your chest and the warm, tingling feeling coursing through your fingertips that you can’t get rid of.

You start learning random things about Taehyung beyond just football and general facts that everyone knows about him. It’s surreal how drastically your relationship with Taehyung has changed over the past few days. While snarky ripostes and greasy comments (from Taehyung, of course) are still exchanged, talking and listening to each other, or just being with each other, feels almost natural to you. But you’re no longer at each other’s throats and his annoying retorts have significantly decreased.

The daily meetings bring the two of you into line: by tacit and unconscious consent, you two have begun to weave a space for each other in your lives, forming a joint narrative like a breeze in the boughs, hanging in the spaces in between the two of you.

He was telling you about how he likes comparing his cheeks to bread buns, and he likes to stuff his cheeks when he eats, and that his grandparents would get upset if he returns to his hometown with sunken cheeks. You don’t realise that you’ve been grinning this entire time listening to him ramble on about his cheeks, but your smile grows even wider at Taehyung’s lock screen when his phone lights up from a notification.

“Oh my god, is that a dog?”

“Yes!” He exclaims, a little too loudly and shoves his phone in your face, “Say hi to Yeontan! Isn’t he just adorable?”

Your heart jumps at his excited smile and the tinges of pure adoration dancing in his orbs.

“Aww, he looks like a little ball of fluff.”

“He is! But he can also be very grumpy. Like you.”

“Did you just compare me to a dog?” You fold your arms fold over your chest in faux-rage.

“Such audacity!” He raises his palm to his chest with a gasp, feigning indignation. “He’s not just a dog. He’s the best thing that has ever happened to me ever since I saw him at the shelter.”

“Shelter?”

“Oh, I volunteer at a shelter for abandoned and stray pets every month. You know, Yeontan was actually abandoned by his previous owner and I don’t know, I just had to take him in? I would take all the animals at the shelter if I could, to be honest. Maybe next time. Anyways, let me show you more pictures! I have an album full of his pictures.”

“Dude…”

“Don’t be like that. I already have a Yeontan who gets super unenthusiastic whenever I show him pictures of other dogs. I think he’s jealous.”

A small smile tugs at your lips and the edges of his lips start to curl up to a semblance of a smile as well.

“Well, Yeontannie sure is one lucky dog.”

“More like I am one lucky boy,” he beams, flashing his honey bread cheeks in all their glory.

There’s no denying the sweet quiet of Taehyung’s presence when he’s not making stupid remarks, and this is expounded by how time seems to forget about its own existence these few days. Before you know it, it’s already dark and you’re soon packing up to head back home.

“I’ll need you to go through some fact-checking with you tomorrow. You free around 6pm?”

“Shit, I think I have something on,” Taehyung pouts, fishing out his phone from his pocket, “Let me check.”

“Oh, then it’s fine—”

“Do you want me to cancel it?”

“No! No, it’s fine!”

“It’s okay, I can just postpone it—”

“That’ll mean that you’re cancelling for me.... and you know, you don’t have to.”

“It’s just dinner with Jimin. Fact-checking is important for your article, right?” He says quietly, while his eyes come slowly round and rivet themselves upon your face.

You don’t miss the twinkle in his eyes, igniting a blaze deep in your bones and washing your senses away. All of a sudden, your throat feels constricted, breaths coming out short. You’re hyperaware of how close he is and to be honest, you feel like you’re standing in a room that’s on fire, too hot for the chilly evening which has a very high chance of rain.

Even if you continue to insist that you despise him, you can’t help but admit that somewhere deep down, something between the two of you is now different.

Exhaustion creeps up onto Taehyung, the pain in his arms manifested in his back as well, gradually sneaking into his legs until all his limbs are aching and stiff. Hunched over on a bench, he grits his teeth in frustration, nails digging the skin of his palms, while hot tears threaten to spill.

On Friday, you’ve walked into the team huddled in a circle, frowns all over their faces, a congealing tension evident in the air. From the clamour, it seems that one of the boys have gotten injured during practice and the team was split into two on who to be held responsible and whether there was any foul play involved.

From the sidelines, you watch Taehyung order everyone to shush and makes everyone sit down for a deconflict session. He appears surprisingly calm and addresses the issue in a collected manner. Afterwards, he invites the team to share about how they feel, allowing the conflict to openly spoken about and viewed from different perspectives. He listens attentively, like he always does with you, and speaks clearly and practically, easing the tension in the air till their teammates start coming to a consensus.

When he sees you standing at the sidelines, he gives you a small smile that you easily see through and approaches you after making sure that his teammates are cool with one another and reminds them that whatever happens on the field stays in the field.

“So um,” you begin quietly, treading carefully around his feelings, “Are fights like that common?”

You already know the answer from looking at the size of the dark bags under his eyes. He is slowly breaking down, but still holding tightly onto the carefree façade that he puts on for show, for the team. It’s also mid-terms period and from the earlier interviews, you remember that he is on a scholarship that he cannot afford to lose because his parents are struggling to send his other siblings to school as well.

Contrary to popular belief, Taehyung isn’t an open book. He’s more of a sealed book, covered in dust and trapped in a forgotten corner of a bookstore. He has his own elusive way of dealing with ways, befriending people, treasuring the people and things around him, but he has also his own way of hiding his feelings. He hates the idea of being vulnerable with people.

He is a combination of hot and cold – sometimes you feel like he’s an old friend because of the emotional compatibility and his comfortable presence, but sometimes, he just goes back to being the cocky fuckboy he is. Maybe that’s just part of the jock persona – to deceive people into thinking that he’s more than that. But in all honesty, that’s not Taehyung and you wouldn’t compartmentalise him like that or homogenise him as just another fuckboy no matter how much you dislike him.

You think you’d know him quite well from having shadowed him the past week. It has come to your realisation that you’re no longer at each other’s throats and his annoying retorts have significantly decreased, but you’re not sure whether it’s because he’s just tired from everything to go out of his way to be annoying. But you don’t have any complaints.

He lets out a dry chuckle at your question, his words sounding sugar crystalised and rough in his throat, “Are you asking this as a friend or as a reporter?”

“We’re friends?”

“We–”

Some threads of a biting remark begin to sew themselves together in his mind, but he stops instantly, too tired to really fabricate anything, much less bother to speak.

“Taehyung,” you call out after drawing a furtive breath, “Don’t doubt yourself. You’re a great friend and captain.”

Your soft and sincere tone permeates through Taehyung’s every last prickle of frustration, especially when you offer him a reassuring smile, “What you did out there was one of the selfless acts I’ve ever seen in a leader. And this should mean something, you know, considering that it’s coming from me.”

“Of course I am, I’m actually nicer than I look.”

“I know you’re kidding, but I’m trying to be serious here and on the off chance you’re not, fuck off.”

He remains quiet.

“I’m serious though. It’s obviously not easy being the captain, but it’s clear that you have rightfully earned the respect from all your teammates. You handled it quite well without being biased or losing your cool.”

“I did?” His tone, deep in timbre, is so quietly surprised that it gnaws at your heart.

“Yeah.”

“Conflicts like that are a daily occurrence,” he mumbles, “But they can really break or make our teamwork and… the momentum for me as their captain, so I have to try? I have to be responsible for my guys.”

You watch how a cocky smirk instantly settles itself on his lips right after you think that he has opened up, “But I might be just great at forming relationships and team-bonding.”

“Judging from how you treat the girls around you, I don’t think that’s completely true.”

“Girls around me?”

“You’re a fuckboy. I don’t think it’s safe to say that your relationships with girls are great.”

“It’s just sex, no big deal.”

“And that gives you the right to play with their feelings?”

“Of course not, we just hook up that’s all. No hard feelings. It’s just sex with no strings attached and they all know it. Before I hook up with someone, I make it very clear that I’m not looking for anything serious. Just meaningless sex and fun.”

“Okay, but let’s say for example, a girl does end up falling for you. Is that solely her fault?”

He stops to think.

“For now, I just don’t wish to get involved in anything serious. I don’t have the time or the energy to deal with feelings.”

You scrunch your nose up in distaste when Taehyung shrugs his shoulders casually, dismissing the conversation.

You’re not someone who is easily lost for words, always quick to retort with a witty comeback, especially when it’s with Taehyung. But this time, all you could mutter is an “I see”, before pretending to focus on writing on your notepad. For some reason, you feel like your heart just took a dip. The thought of him playing around with girls leaves a bad taste in your mouth, but you can’t comprehend why. Since when did you care what Taehyung does with his life? You never did before.

Maybe it’s because at the back of your mind, you know that your said example might not exactly be one. Maybe.

Sunday arrives quicker than ever. In retrospect, you know this day would come – in fact, you’ve been waiting for this day ever since Yoongi assigned you the profile. But there’s just something – sort of a difference in the air surrounding you and Taehyung – that kneads at your heart about this coming to an end. Whatever this is.

He doesn’t say a word when you take a sip from the tumbler that he gave you, but you’re pretty sure that the way his eyes instantly lit up with a smile to match says it all.

“Oh right! Have you eaten breakfast? I, um,” he coughs awkwardly, hand scratching the back of his hand with a nervous smile, “made some sandwiches this morning.”

He turns around to his sports bag and fishes out a lunchbox, “Strawberry cream sandwiches!”

“My grandparents own a strawberry farm, so I get all the best strawberries!” He beams, and his eyes turn into little sparkly crescents. At that, your heart skips in two, one half in your throat and the other down in your gut.

“Not to be biased, but these are the tastiest and sweetest strawberries ever. Oh! After Japanese strawberries, but don’t tell my grandparents. They’ll be sad.”

“Anyways, try it,” he hands you a sandwich and you take a moment to observe how it screams Kim Taehyung at his finest. He has trimmed the bread crusts (his nemesis) and added a shit ton of cream cheese.

Taehyung’s crescent-like eyes are now staring straight into you as he watches you bite into the sandwich, anticipating for your reaction. There’s something in his gaze that makes your limbs heavy. It makes you feel trapped and lost in the depths of his eyes, warm and inviting.

You smile at the sweet and sour taste and he literally jumps with joy, flashing his honeyed cheeks.

“It’s good, right?” He chirps, beckoning you to eat more and you ignore how Taehyung’s cheeks are fully stuffed and how he chews with a natural pout on his lips.

For a moment, the world seems to be out of space and time as you sit on the bench, savouring the sweetness of everything. Taehyung is looking at you and the moment is lengthening. He becomes severely tongue-tied, no longer knowing what to say, but yearns for this moment to stay the way it is.

“Nice weather, huh?”

“Talking about the weather now?” You ask in a bemused tone and he puffs, rolling his eyes playfully, but the growing tingle of pink on his cheeks doesn’t escape your notice.

“I-I mean... It’s nice.”

A softness settles into the lines of Taehyung’s face, and you can’t bring yourself to look away when his eyes land on yours, “It’s nice being here with you.”

And he means it. He generally feels good around you. He isn’t an anxious or socially awkward person, and he’s got tons of friends, but he still finds himself putting on a mask with most of them. A slightly louder, a more playful and enthusiastic version of himself. He almost always becomes the life of the party, the person who makes things easier and more comfortable for everyone else – breaking the silence, making jokes, drawing people out of their shells and easing them into conversations. He likes being that kind of person.

But it does get tiring, sometimes.

He likes being quiet, sometimes.

Sometimes, he just likes to curl up on the couch in his PJs and not feel like he has to be Funny! Loud! And gregarious! All at once. On some days, he just wants to laze around and watch anime till his eyes bleed. On some days, he just wants to be a normal college student without a team to manage and reputation to uphold.

You roll your eyes at his sudden confession, hoping that the warmth that sits high on your cheeks isn’t that obvious, but it probably is, from the way your heart ensnares at how Taehyung’s lips are stretched so widely across his face, his crescent eyes crinkling so adorably that you find yourself smiling too.

“You’re a loser,” you tease, shoving him lightly.

Then Taehyung is laughing, highlighting the undertones of oak and berries. He is laughing so hard that his stomach hurts and his chest aches with a drumming sound against his ribcage. Soon, laughter pokes its way across your glassy eyes, with tinges of amusement waltzing in your orbs, and pink cheeks and you’re doubling over him, with tears in your eyes and nose all scrunched up. Taehyung is holding onto you and the moment is lovely, everything is lovely.

You’re lovely.

Taehyung raises his arm to ruffle your hair, stirring up a mini tornado within you and chuckles again when you jump slightly.

“Gotta say that I’d miss having you around. You and your pesky presence. Can’t believe a week just went by just like that.”

“Rude,” you half-heartedly taunt, pushing his hand away, while a corner of your mouth curls up in retaliation.

“It was fun being your side hoe though. Do you know how many glares I’ve received by strangers, literally girls I’ve never seen before in my entire life, in the hallway? Imagine the power I have.”

“What side hoe?” He chuckles boyishly and your breath hitches, “You’re as good as my main.”

Your heart pulses erratically in your chest, cheeks flushed with a warmth that matches the one that blooms in your heart. The way he makes your heart soar terrifies the fuck out of you.

“Not sure if I should feel honoured.”

“You know, I actually don’t know how we ended up like this. You hated me for the longest time and now we’re sitting here.”

“I did hate you, all right.”

“You have such a personality.”

“That’s another way of calling me a bitch.”

“As in… vibrant, colourful, I don’t know how else to describe you. You’re rude and endearing at the same time – it’s weird.”

The most adorable of smiles form on his face as he lets out a wholehearted laugh, it makes your insides melt.

A grin moulds on your face that resembles his own, “And you’re still a huge pain in the ass.”

“Still a bomb ass that I’ll tap.”

Later in the day, you receive a text from Taehyung. It’s not the first time that he has texted you. But little did you know that he would be a freaking double texter.

[from annoying ass jock] [18:49] hey you [18:49] do you want to grab dinner [18:49] i am very hungry right now lol [18:49] i mean you’re probably hungry unless you’ve eaten? [18:49] take this as a goodbye dinner, celebratory dinner wtv [18:51] feel free to say no tho HAHAHAHA

[you] [18:53] stfu I wasn’t going to say no [18:53] clam down [18:54] i’m kinda craving for a good burger and cheese fries

The night passes by smoother and faster than expected. Maybe it’s because you don’t realise the possibility of it being a date. The way Taehyung has asked you for dinner seems rather impromptu, so you’ve completely eliminated the idea of it being a date.

On the other hand, Taehyung himself knows that this is a date. While you’re cutting into your burger, he is furiously chewing on his fries, struggling to believe that you had even taken up his absurd offer of eating dinner together. On a Friday evening. With him. Is it a sign of peace? Or even something more?

He offers to walk you back to your dorm after that, telling you that he needs to walk off his burger. When he walks side-by-side with you, you focus at how he is so tall, how his height literally hovers over you, doing nothing but darkening the pink high on your cheeks.

When he stops in his track abruptly, you have to tilt your head upwards to look at his face, and each passing streetlamp casts his already golden skin in an orange glow, throwing tiny suns in his eyes into orbit.

Tonight is a little different.

The way he’s looking at you is a little different.

He takes your palms into his and starts playing with your fingers, allowing the two of you to stew and bask in the quiet contentment of the night.

His other hand rests gingerly on your waist, before bringing you closer to him. Then you find his lips graze the shell of your ear and shudder at his warm breath on your skin, inviting the rise of gooseflesh to scatter all over your body.

Your mind goes blank. All you can only think about how his touch on your waist burns, how ticklish his breath is on your face, and how there are little awakening tingles that shoot up your spine every time his skin comes into contact with yours. How he’s so gentle with you as if you’re a delicate piece of art.

How much you want him to kiss you.

Honestly, it takes you by surprise how much you actually want him to do just that, how much you’ve unconsciously thought about this so often that you can already imagine the ghost of his fingers down the cleft of your chin.

A fizzle of electricity runs down your spine when he brings your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to each finger, before he brushes over your knuckles to intertwine his fingers with yours.

He’s looking at you with as much certainty as you know that he’s going to sweep in and kiss you. You offer him a smile, and it is all the reassurance Taehyung needs before he leans in to press his lips against yours. Something akin to fireworks explodes inside you, colouring your insides and nerves with rainbow sparks. It makes you feel so alive.

The gentle brush of skin becomes static charge. He takes his time with you and kisses you like he’s always had the intention of doing so, like this isn't a spur of the moment catastrophe. Like he wants more of you, needs a taste of what he’s been yearning for the longest time.

You are abstrusely drawn to Taehyung. Like planets condemned by gravity to collide, you two have become yoked as one. It’s the headiness of his scent, the taste of his lips, his tongue that carefully darts over your bottom lip and seeks entrance. It’s the way he’s kissing you, so different, so soft and gentle, like it’s grounded in something you can’t quite place, compared to the first kiss.

Taehyung’s lips are soft like the cup of his hands around your face, but it is the settling of the repeated brush of his mouth against yours that makes you almost melt into the ground.

Nipping lightly at your lower lip, his lips curl up into a smirk when he hears a gasp escape from your mouth, your heart ricocheting in your chest.

It’s an amalgamation of teeth, hidden feelings and pure adoration that are coming to a head and finally bursting – absolutely everything you wanted and more. But even when your tongues tangle with one another, it is more sensual and romantic than hasty and lustful.

The night is upon you when he parts from you moments later, allowing you to catch the breaths that have escaped from your now swollen-red lips and come down from your highs. You’re staring at him with eyes laced with fondness, before he leans in to meet your forehead and chuckles to himself at how surreal everything is.

You shouldn’t be feeling so happy, so satisfied, but you feel like you’ve been moon-struck. God, you can’t even figure it out yourself. Not when you’re tucked into his broad sturdy chest, his chin resting on the crown of your head and hand resting gently around your waist. Listening to his heartbeat. Though you’re aware that he isn’t looking for anything serious, you want to believe that maybe, just maybe his heart is beating as thunderously as yours because he’s serious this time.

“Not about to feint surprise at how you’re still alive because I’m going to need that profile from you, but I have to ask. Did you not sleep last night?” You look up to see Yoongi raising his eyebrow at you with suspicion.

“Ah, the appearance of negation in a question – my cup of tea. Do I reply yes or no to your pervasive question?”

“Very snarky today, I see. You look like melted ice cream, topped with tasteless sprinkles.”

“And you look like a boiled dumpling.”

“Thanks.”

“I was up doing work last night.”

“You’ve already handed up all your submissions,” he replies matter-of-factly.

“I know… I just… was,” you shoot Yoongi a pointed look, “thinking about stuff.”

The change in his expression lets you in that he knows exactly about what’s up, “Thinking about stuff, huh?”

“I’m just so—”

“Whipped for Kim Taehyung and I want to tap that ass. South Korea’s ass, yeah?”

“Disoriented. The word I was going for was disoriented, thank you very much. But also, what the fuck?”

“I said what I said.”

“I also said what I said. Don’t be gross.”

“Look,” Yoongi clears his throat, as if to brace himself for his forthcoming words, “I don’t really want to be involved in whatever feud or relationship you have – look how I didn’t overgeneralise because I’m generally confused. But one thing’s for sure. You clearly have feelings for him.”

“Yeah, of course I do. Anger, impatience and animosity.”

“You know what I mean,” he sighs in incredulity and gives you a look like he can look through your soul and tell that you’re lying through your teeth.

“What the fuck, dude? Kim Taehyung is just urgh. There is nothing good about that jock – all he knows is fucking around and getting onto my nerves. Seriously—"

“Seriously? You expect me to believe that? Don’t think I didn’t notice you smiling at your laptop while working on that profile? Or how you’re glued to your phone because he’s texting you or sending you memes?”

“What?” You blurt out in disbelief.

“Don’t fight me on that – you hate texting. I’m not blind, Y/N. He obviously ignited something in you.”

“What the fuck,” you snarl, “That’s disgusting. I don’t even know what’s so interesting about him, like why the heck are people so smitten by him. They must be blind or something. I swear that I’ve lost at least 10 years of my life from spending an entire week with him. Don’t know how I’m still alive.”

“Y/N…”

“I don’t fucking understand why people put him on a pedestal. He’s really your typical jock? Another egotistical fuckboy. An airhead with no personality. I don’t understand why people like him so much—"

“Um… Taehyung…”

“What?” You flare up impatiently, acrimonious at how Yoongi keeps interrupting your hate speech, totally missing the grimace on his face.

“Y/N, Taehyung… He’s behind you.”

You spin around and your heart drowns in your chest.

The sight of Taehyung’s face of reticence at the door punches you straight in the gut. He shakes his head with a forlorn smile that you can easily see through and turns on his heels, walking away quickly.

Without hesitation, you run after him, your chest tightening with a disconsolate, stifling feeling, as if you’ve just swallowed a hard lump of cloud.

“Tae! I can explain–”

He turns around, maintaining his distance from you, “Gee Y/N, I didn’t know you hated me that much. I thought… thought that after spending all this time with me, your feelings might have changed. But you still… you still hate me, don’t you?”

“Taehyung, listen – I didn’t mean it. I j-just–”

His brows crinkled together in a tight wedge, eyes pressed shut.

“You meant it.”

“I–”

Your tongue feels heavy, like it’s made of iron.

“You meant it,” he repeats, shoulders sunken low, crestfallen, and you swear, you see hurt in his eyes.

Your heart immediately falls with it, knowing that you’re the cause of his sadness. It feels like there’s a fist seizing your heart and squeezing it until it bursts and splatters all over the walls. When he walks away from you, the pain remains, unabated.

Only heaven and you yourself know how much you did not mean it.

When you wake up the next few mornings, it’s as if a shadow is lurking at the back of your mind.

There is a tirade running on loop in the back of your mind, the more you thought about it, the angrier you got. But anger is merely a convenient emotion that easily covered up for sorrow. You are angry at yourself for hurting Taehyung.

You’d never say it, but in between glances, hazy mornings at the field and the exchange of witty ripostes, your feelings for Taehyung have changed, unbeknownst to the world. You have no idea when it happened. When the lines that so clearly distinguished you from Taehyung became so blurred. When he stopped being irritating, an obstacle, an enemy and became something else entirely.

You don’t exactly know when you started to thaw and let your guard down to let him in, but you know that you… like seeing Taehyung smile. And you also know that you want to be one of the reasons for his smile.

Despite the overwhelming amount of work you need to attend to, these few days, you spend a lot less time working on your assignments like you should be and a lot more daydreaming about twinkling eyes and a distinctive laughter from a boxy smile. It doesn’t go past your notice – how your heart goes all erratic when a particular football player is around, his sunshine smile radiating the darkest part of your mind and threatening to break your steely, collected demeanour into bits.

You have been so scared to let him in, so afraid to let yourself fully submerge in the comfort of his touches, in the calm that envelops you when Taehyung is beside you, listening to you ramble, or when he looks at you when he thinks you’re not looking.

You tell yourself that you’d be fine. That life goes on. That Taehyung is just another almost and you can live without talking to him again like how your life was before this whole shit-show. But you remember the current that zaps you whenever he brushes his hand against yours, the ricocheting of your heart whenever you find him staring at you. You also think about the little crinkle at the edges of his eyes whenever he laughs and the music of his laughter that you’ve grown to adore. Little did you know, the warmth at the pit of your stomach has long built a house to reside in and it’s yearning for its owner to come home.

It hurts.

It hurts because Taehyung has the prettiest, purest and brightest of all souls. He views the world in a different light with all his little quirks. You adore his ardent love for classical jazz (he accidentally played his music out loud when you were with him and gave you a whole lecture on and you didn’t stop him for he spoke so animatedly with stars in his eyes), for strawberries and his family that he would have been a farmer with his grandparents if he didn’t attend college.

Because when he loves, he loves so fiercely, softly and dearly, like the first snow, like the fresh dew on a perfectly bloomed rose. Soon, the gentle heat of the morning will send him back to the clouds and the bloom will raise her head, calling to the summer bees. Taehyung flows like honey in your soul and makes you feel so whole, but vulnerable at the same time.

He’s a dream come true, a daydream, a part of the labyrinth where reveries rest. He’s just so wonderfully and ethereally endearing.

The ache in your chest throbs especially when you spot a cute dog on the way to the café downtown and whip out your phone to snap a picture to tell Taehyung that it’s one of Yeontan’s little friends. You almost hit the send button, but your thumb freezes into place when you remember.

Right.

He’s never going to talk to you again.

It also hurts extra bad when you’re glued to your laptop, fingers hacking away to finish up the feature article on the said boy, writing about the true Kim Taehyung that currently, only you know of. But he probably hates your face right now.

“Hey, you’re—”

“Yoongi, no. I’m not alive. I’ve never felt more dead before.”

“I was going to commend you for being here today after you know, yesterday’s incident.”

He grabs a chair and sits by you and a dreadful sigh escapes from your lips because you’re well-aware that Yoongi is going to make you talk. He isn’t the type to let you ignore your feelings, preferring in honest and open communication even if it pains you to talk about your feelings because you’re so emotionally constipated.

“How are you?”

Burying your face in your hands, you somehow manage to choke out the words lodged deep in your throat, “Feel like shit. I thought I hit rock bottom. But now it’s rock bottom, 50 feet of crap and then me.”

If Yoongi notices the tremble of your fingers, he doesn’t comment on it and you’re grateful for that.

“Tell me more.”

It’s not a question.

God, you hate it when he presses. Fuck journalists and their persistence of sticking their noses into other people’s business. You want to laugh at how ironic this is.

“I don’t even know where to start,” you laugh dryly and cringe at how fake it sounds.

You have your usual self-defensive answer rolling off the tip of your tongue, “I am just another dumb bitch who fell for him.”

“You know, if you’re going to continue being like this, I don’t really know how to help you.”

“I’m not kidding. I feel so dumb for liking him. In fact, one part of me is fucking furious that I’m so vulnerable right now. I hate feelings.”

“First of all, you’re not dumb for liking him. And second of all, human beings are vulnerable and all feelings, no matter how small or insignificant or cliché they are, are all valid. That’s how we grow.”

He continues sagely, “Look, whatever happened between you two is a mess. So you hated him last time, but you’ve developed feelings for him, and that’s all that should matter, no? Don’t refuse your feelings just because you know, you’re too ashamed or scared to acknowledge them.”

Your mouth opens and then snaps close. You repeat this in your state of stupefaction as your brain tries to process everything that has occurred.

“Does it matter if I acknowledge my feelings?”

He doesn’t answer.

“He told me that he isn’t looking for anything serious. Just meaningless sex and fun. I literally just played myself.”

“I don’t exactly know what Taehyung feels about this. But what I know is that they have their first game in a few days and he hasn’t been doing well. Coach has been going really hard on him. You should go talk to him, yeah?”

“Yoongi,” you whisper helplessly, “I’m scared.”

“I know.”

He puts his hand atop yours as a form of comfort and suddenly, everything seems okay. Even if it is just in that moment.

Before you clock out of the editorial room, Yoongi sends you back with your article to vet through before giving the green light to the designers. Scrolling all the way to the bottom of the document, you realise that Yoongi hasn’t fixed anything at all to the point that you wonder if he has accidentally sent the wrong version. Until you spot his message at the bottom in really tiny font because you know, Yoongi.

I said that you’re the only person who could cover this feature article and I wasn’t wrong. Well done. Hope you know that I’ll always have your back, alive or dead.

You decide to drop by football practice the next day. Lurking near the bleachers, you jump in horror when Jungkook spots you being suspicious. From the way his eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights upon the sight of you, you know that he’s aware of the recent happenings.

“Hey,” he offers you a small smile, but you could tell from the size of the dark bags under his eyes that he is shagged to the bone.

“Hi.”

“Y/N, right? You okay?”

You let out an awkward chuckle, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because Cap is a mess?”

“Is he really?”

He laughs dryly, “Aren’t you here to confirm that?”

“Um—”

“Sorry, I just… the stress is getting to all of us. But especially to hyung. He’s being really grilled by Coach for the sudden dip in performance.”

“Right… I’m sorry… If I caused this. I just—”

Across the field, Coach’s whistle shrills through the air and you realise that it’s directed at Taehyung. From where you’re standing, his grunts are almost inaudible, but the sound of his voice still traverses the darkness of your mind.

“You know, this is the first thing hyung is being grilled by Coach. He’s always been Coach’s favourite, even right from the very start, so Coach doesn’t really know how to deal with him either. Hyung’s even worse than his freshman self. You know, hyung didn’t know shit about football when he first joined? It was a joke. He really worked his way up, even though all he wanted was just to play on the field.”

A sudden prick of guilt pinches at your chest.

“Hey Jungkook, could you do me a favour? Could you pass this to him? You can just leave it on top of his bag? I think he’ll know.”

When Taehyung hobbles into the locker room feeling like death after a vigorous grilling session, his legs almost collapse on the floor. But then he sees a lunch box atop his bag and runs towards it, huffing louder than usual, so hard that he feels like his lungs might collapse like his legs. And when he opens it, only to see a nicely packed strawberry sandwich with a little post-it note on top of it, he lets out a huge breath and for the first time in years after his grandmother’s passing, Taehyung cries.

Don’t tell your grandparents (sorry!) but these are Japanese strawberries. Good luck for Sat, Yeontannie and I believe in your galaxy 💜

A big commotion startles Taehyung from his mandatory quiet time that he sets aside before each game. He’ll put on his headphones and play his jazz playlist to meditate for at least a good 10 minutes, allowing both his muscles and mind to rest. But even his noise-cancelling headphones can do so much in blocking out his rambunctious and adrenaline-filled teammates.

“Captain! Your girlfriend’s here!”

“Captain!”

“Tae!”

“Wha—”

Before Taehyung could even remove his headphones to bark at his teammates for disturbing his peace, the door that swings open reveals his very confusion, rendering him utterly speechless.

He sees you standing there with an apprehensive expression, looking out of place as fuck, and if it’s possible, Taehyung can hear the gears in your brain turning frantically from here.

When your eyes land on Taehyung sitting across the room, the first thought that pops into your mind is that it feels like eons since you’ve last seen his face. It’s only been a few days, but you miss seeing him. You miss him so fucking badly.

He looks tired. There are dark circles painting his under-eyes and frown lines on his forehead and that doesn’t sit well with you, because there’s always either an annoying smirk or a bright smile plastered on his face.

For moments and moments, your eyes rest on the boy in front of you, drinking in his presence – the coruscating eyes and pretty lips behind his inspired, untiring voice.

“Hi,” he breathes with an indifferent expression, removing his headphones hastily before he stands up to close the gap between the two of you. The nervous flickering of your eyes doesn’t escape his notice.

“Hey,” you whisper back, lips quivering. There are many more words on the tip of your tongue, but the prevailing fear that catches in your throat freezes your lungs.

The boys have filed out of the locker room to give you two some privacy and now the world is basking in their awkward, ricocheting off the window in a quiet plea for noise. It is so quiet that if you focus more, you could hear the erratic thumping of your heart.

“How’s your article?” Taehyung asks and silence comes to splinter like a stone thrown at a wall, colliding with it and shattering like lightning bolts.

A frown settles itself on your temple at how he is trying to make everything seem all right. How the first thing he does is ask you about your article when you’re the one clearly at fault and he isn’t even showing signs of anger towards you. How could he be so selfless?

“It’s fine,” you mumble, “But I’m not here to…. I’m…”

Without warning, you go on your toes and reach for the rosy flesh on his mouth. At your touch, his entire body softens. It feels like there’s a cavernous hole in his aching heart.

“I’m sorry, Tae.”

Taehyung gives you a little nod, his way of saying it’s okay, before closing his eyes until they disappear in the shadows of his long black lashes.

You kiss him with profound earnestness that had been missing during the first kiss, dusting kisses over every inch of his blushing features, until you’re breathless, dizzy with want. There’s this inexplicable spark of desire growing within you and warming your body from inside out. Your heart longs for him, marvels in how right it feels to be in his arms, to kiss him, to be as close to him as possible.

Gosh, you’ve missed this so much.

Taehyung’s hands find your face, cradling your cheeks as if you’re the most delicate flower he has ever encountered, as if your petals would tear apart if he wasn’t gentle with you. He doesn’t look away from your eyes, searching your gaze silently. Now that you’re here, standing right in front of his very eyes, it makes everything all the more painful.

You move your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him into another gentle kiss, falling onto him like moonlight on a window seat.

“Princess…” He calls for you, voice deep and huskier than you’d ever heard it, and the timber of it sends shivers raking down your spine, “You know that I’m physically incapable of being angry or upset with you.”

The two of you move silently in each other's orbits, solitary planets in a lonely galaxy.

“I’m sorry for everything,” you whisper against his lips as his fingers play with the hem of your shirt.

“Hey, it’s okay, love. I’m just happy that you’re here.”

More words are lost on his tongue as he seizes the opportunity to drink in the sight of you, his eyes trace the outline of your visage, from the curve of your nose to the arch of your philtrum and down to the soft of your lips.

“Are we just going to stare at each other until the buzzer rings?” You joke.

“Can I? I haven’t looked at your face enough lately,” he laughs, “Missed your face. A lot.”

His eyelashes brush against his cheeks, following the stare of your eyes into deep brown irises. When he leans a fraction of a space closer, his bangs brush softly against your forehead.

“Taehyung…” You breathe out, reaching out to caress his face, fingers brushing away his bangs from his eyes, “Can I ask you something?”

“As a friend or a reporter?”

“Neither,” you reply, “I just wanted to know… Since when?”

“Since when?” He tilts his head.

“Since when did you start having feelings for me?”

He laughs like it’s an obvious question, tugging the fallen strand of your hair behind your ears. His expression is hard to decipher, it’s a combination of amusement and endearment, but he is smiling so widely that it’s almost blinding.

“I’ve always liked you, Y/N. Remember when Yoongi-hyung introduced you to me and you were angry about something?”

“I’m always angry about something.”

“I thought you were interesting as fuck.”

“You’re fucking weird.”

“Okay, but can you at least tell me why you hated me?”

“Fine. It’s because… Iwasjealousathowyou’regoodateverything.”

“W-What?”

“I was jealous… because you’re good at everything. Like without even trying. And I thought it was plain unfair, because people like me need to work so hard to do well, while there are people like you who are just… born talented.”

“I—”

“But after getting to know you, I realised that I’ve completely misunderstood you. You hide a lot of things about yourself, but you’re incredibly humble and hardworking even though you’re fucking annoying and cocky. And you’re so selfless, you offer help to your teammates when you notice them struggling. And you’re also so nice to everyone, you make them feel comfortable. Y-You kind of bring light to everyone around you. That’s just your charm, I guess.”

You reach out to hold his hand, but he beats you to it, taking your palm into his. He starts playing with your fingers, mapping every whorl of the ridges on your fingertips.

“Remember the day Yoongi introduced us to each other? It was also the day I failed my scholarship interview. I was up against you and there was only one slot left. You got it, so when you were teasing me for being grumpy, I kind of took my anger out on you. Felt like you were making fun of me.”

“Shit,” he curses under his breath, “I was smiling at you because I found you cute, dumbass. I kept pestering Yoongi-hyung to introduce me to you so when he finally, I was so nervous and didn’t know how to behave in front of you. I didn’t even know that I was up against you for the scholarship.”

When Yoongi first introduced you to Taehyung, he thought that you two would hit off long. But he didn’t take into account the fact that Taehyung and you are polar opposites – your petulance and Taehyung’s happy-go-lucky attitude is a stark juxtaposition. So when Taehyung opened his mouth and told Yoongi (right in front of you, bitch) that you looked like you were about to cry, his chin tilted up slightly, one eyebrow cocked, right after you found out that you failed your scholarship, so it was a straight-up no for Kim.

“Well, we’re both dumb.”

You look away in faux-annoyance, desperately trying to prevent your cheeks from igniting under the warm gaze that deftly lights upon you. “Long story short: I’m mean and I don’t deserve you.”

He cups your face with a smile so bright that his nose scrunches up adorable, “What are you on about? We were made to complete the living hell of each other.”

This prompts another fond smile to play on your lips, one so tight it hurts your cheeks.

When you realise that time’s running out, you tip-toe to press another kiss on his cheek, “For good luck. Go out there and get the trophy for me, bitch.”

The smile you give is soft and pink-cheeked, but familiar in every kind of way and for the umpteenth time, Taehyung gets the fucking air truly knocked out of his lungs. He’s a goner.

“You know,” his eyes are soft and there’s a wisp of a smile on his rosy lips, “I’ll get you the moon if you asked. But you deserve so much more than just the moon, Princess.”

If there’s one thing you know, it’s that you have almost always wanted to kiss Kim Taehyung. From the very start. And if there’s one thing that you don’t, it’s that the same boy will almost always kiss you back until you’re drowning in honey.

After Taehyung receives the trophy and lifts it high in the air for everyone to see with his teammates cheering around him, the entire ordeal almost has you in tears and you run to him, pressing kisses and bites down necks and collarbones. The ministrations don’t stop even when the two of you waltz-dance and skip all the way to his apartment, never getting enough of each other’s touches.

Taehyung’s fingers knot in your hair, controlling the kiss, his other hand finding purchase on the curve of your waist and teeth digging into the swell of your lower lip. You let out a whine that only encourages Taehyung to press against you closer and kiss you harder, in such a primal way that has heat swirling in your belly and wetness to pool between your thighs.

Your fire to him is the most peerless of lights.

Adrenaline runs through his entire body, lighting up his nerves like fireworks as he removes your shirt and openly soaks in the sight of your body, how your breasts are cupped by your lacey bra and how you’re blushing fervently.

“So pretty for me. All for me.”

You don’t miss the way he growls and licks his lips, eyes hooded as he stares at you like you’re a piece of meat that he can’t wait to devour. And his actions prove his ardent hunger when he grabs your chin and tilts it to the side, before attaching his lips greedily to the skin on your neck and licking a stripe over the flesh. He carries on nibbling on the sensitive part of your skin, sucking and biting in a way that is sure to leave you crying for more.

“Wow, and I thought you’d be tired after the game.”

He is already breathing heavily as he towers over you, biting back his moans, rocking his hips upwards for some needed friction.

“Can’t be tired when I’m just getting started with you.”

He pushes you onto the bed and comes crawling to hover over you within seconds as he connects his lips aggressively with your neck once more. While he continues to suck faint lilac bruises into your skin, you can’t help but jut your hips firmly against his, an instinctive reaction to feel more of him.

He groans loudly and this spurs you to give another experimental roll of your hips over his. This time he freezes and accidentally bites down on your neck a little harder than before which earns another sharp gasp from you, but this only douses the flames licking your abdomen. He leans back to apologise, but his words are lost at the tip of his tongue when you continue to grind against him shamelessly. His hands fall to your hips, nails digging firmly in place, and holds you down against his raging boner that now pokes at your inner thighs.

Thrashing in Taehyung’s grip, you sit up, hands finding the courage to explore the soft material of his shirt. Running your fingers over the buttons, you hastily tug it off him, lingering your fingers over his bare skin that you desperately want to kiss with your lips, lick with your tongue and mark with your teeth as yours.

You feel his hunger swallow you whole, his gaze leaving trails of fire as they run all over your body, electrifying you all over.

“Can I eat you out?” His voice is deep, much huskier than ever, and the timber of it sends shivers raking down your spine.

“God, why did you ever think that I would say no?”

In the briefest of moments, Taehyung tugs your shorts down with a grunt. Your eyes lock briefly, heat blooming like a stove burner, flaring up with that low flickering blue when you notice the pure, unadulterated lust in his concupiscent eyes. Fizzy warmth floods your belly, the knot of lust tightening within your abdomen.

His hands rub at your thighs, spreading them widely as he moves down the expanse of your body. There’s a raw power hidden in his hands and it’s tantalisingly arousing to feel those fingertips pressing into the meat of your thighs, wandering under you to squeeze at your ass.

Leaning in, he begins to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses over your bare torso, before trailing lower to your inner thighs and giving them a few kitten licks. You squirm underneath him at the intimacy, while an involuntary gasp leaves your lips at the sensation of his warm breath and lips dusting across your sensitive skin. The sudden stimulation leaves you aching for his lips to be somewhere else, somewhere where it’s throbbing to be touched, to be filled.

Taehyung seems to sense exactly what you want and the next thing you know, you’re falling back onto your elbows and his nose is pressed into the cotton of your underwear. He inhales deeply and groans, eyes cloudy with lust and pleasure, relishing the unbidden scent of your arousal.

Fucking hell.

The hot of his tongue starts teasing your bud through the sheer fabric, sucking through your underwear. Timidly, you lift your lips up, seeking for friction, but Taehyung doesn’t relent, pushing you back down.

“Gotta be patient, Princess.”

When he finally, like finally, removes your soaked underwear, he dips his head between your thighs and licks a long, languid strip along your folds. This elicits a loud keen from you, hips bucking but he winds his arms under your legs and over your hips to properly restrain you. He begins slowly again, lapping up your juices like a man starved, his satisfied whimpers sending vibrations straight to your clit.

“You smell so fucking good,” he continues on to wrap his plush lips around your clit, growling against your pussy and you feel it vibrate deep in your core, “But taste even fucking better.”

Ecstasy washes over you and you cry out, pleasure hot and sharp shooting through your veins to feed the tightening coil in your abdomen as you writhe in his iron grasp, fingers grasping for purchase at his hair.

“Can fucking eat you out all day, want to bet?”

His teeth scrape lightly against the nub when he speaks, and your back arches at the pleasure. He continues to slurp up whatever you offer him, before giving in to your unspoken request, trailing a finger up your folds and sliding it in.

You’ve always known that Taehyung has long, slender fingers – you’ve noticed how long and pretty they are when they’re wrapped around the football, when he waves to you and when he plays with your fingers. And perhaps, you’ve thought about him doing things to you with those fingers before, but now that he has his finger in you, you cannot emphasise how otherworldly it feels. Fucking delirious.

His long digit meets no resistance, instantly enveloped in the tight, slick heat of your core as he goes in knuckle-deep and adds another finger, and it makes you feel so full that you’re losing your mind. You scream even more when he fucks you deep with both his knuckles and the flat of his hot tongue, bringing the inklings of stars behind your eyes.

His fingers continue to pump into you in a quicker succession that has you trembling and keening. Your pussy gushes at his merciless, erratic flicks and pokes at your hot spots, clenching around his fingers and soaking them in your intoxicating sweetness. Shockwaves begin to tear through you and you’re coming too hard and too fast. But Taehyung doesn’t stop and continues to suck harder to help you ride out the pleasure, the squelch of his tongue lapping at your juices filling the entire room in their entirety.

“Please, Tae, please I’m c-close. Your fingers… Fuck. Feel so good. Fuck, fuck!”

You’re dripping, leaking even by now and when he detaches away from your clit to look at you, you can see your own juices glisten on his lips, dribble down to his chin, and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. The throb in your core has never been more torturous.

He leans in to give your clit another chaste kiss and your hips buck up instantly into his face as he gathers the arousal onto his tongue, tasting the heavenly mix of your juices and his saliva.

“Does Princess want to taste how sweet she is? Princess likes my fingers, doesn’t she?” He purrs, coating your juices with his fingers and holding them up so you can see how they coruscate in the dim light.

Nodding hazily, you open your mouth and he doesn’t hesitate to slide three of his digits in and you suck the evidence of your own bliss off his skin, enjoying your own taste and the weight and fit of his slender fingers in your mouth. Taehyung swallows in satisfaction and fervour at how dirty you look.

“Fuck, Y/N. Can’t wait to fuck you. Going to fuck you so good you can’t walk for days.”

A spark of a fire in the very core of your being, beginning to fizzle outward at his words.

Without warning, he pounces onto you, planting kisses on your jawline and down your neck again. When you crane your neck to give him more space, he takes his time, hard muscle of his tongue lapping at your sweet skin, lips sucking until a bruise begins to bloom.

“So fucking beautiful, God,” he croons, threading his fingers through your hair as he groans at how hot this is.

“Taehyung,” you breathe, looking up through your eyelashes, vision hazy with lust, “Want your fat cock in my fucking mouth. Please?”

Taehyung grunts loudly at your crude request, rolling his eyes in a mixture of disbelief and pleasure. He wants your words, this exact memory, to be burned into the very cells of his brain.

“Yeah? Princess wants my dick?”

Pushing his sweats and underwear down with swift fingers, you watch how his dick slaps hard against his stomach. It is searing red at the tip, the head thicker than the shaft, begging to be touched.

You want to fucking sit on it, suck him till you’ve milked him of all his cum. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on before, not when his long fingers are wrapped around his fat cock, giving it a couple of quick strokes. Fuck, his fingers can barely wrap around his dick and that itself makes you dizzy with arousal.

“Open wide, sweetie.”

You throw yourself in front of his thighs, mouth wide, sticking your tongue out in anticipation. You can’t help but moan out loud when Taehyung slaps the head of his dick against your cheek, spreading precum all over, and then on your tongue, before slowly feeding you his cock. Fuck, you feel so dirty.

Taehyung’s cock rests heavy on your tongue, throbbing in the wet heat of your mouth. You lick a long stripe with your tongue on the underside of his length, feeling the very veins that have popped out.

He doesn’t believe that it’s happening. He can’t, not at how he has dreamt about this more times than he can count with both hands, and now it is actually fucking happening.

He grunts, “Dreamt about this so many times. You have no idea how many times I’ve jerked off to this.”

“Jerked off to what?” You tease as your fingers wrap themselves around the base of Taehyung’s dick to keep it steady, massaging his balls every now and then, as you suck noisily around the tip. Running your tongue along the side of his shaft and then back up to swirl your tongue at his slit to lick at his precum, you rejoice in the almost pained whine he lets out.

“Jerked off to you on your knees, looking pretty as fuck, while sucking my fat cock,” he smirks, without blinking an eye at the announcement of his fantasy.

Shuddering at his words, you start to bob your head, taking a little more of him every time you go down until you’re choking and your eyes are watering.

“Fuck yeah, just like that. Does Princess want me to fuck her throat? Feel so full and good?”

A low groan rumbles from deep within his throat, bordering on animalistic, which sends tremors of desire to thrum through your veins.

Peering up through fluttering lashes at Taehyung with your plush lips stretched wide around him, you smile at his fucked-out expression and proceed to alternate licking between his balls and his hard shaft.

When you take his cock into your mouth again, you purr at the fullness of him, opening your mouth wider to take him deeper until he’s fucked himself to the hilt of your throat, your nose buried in the tussock of cleanly trimmed pubic hair at his navel.

“Not so snarky anymore now with my cock in your mouth, huh?”

You don’t reply. The darkness in your eyes is enough to send a punch of heat straight into the pit of Taehyung’s gut and he can’t help but buck his hips forward, sliding right into the wet, hot vice of your throat, fucking right into your throat ruthlessly, leaving you a whimpering, writhing mess.

You don’t stop suckling with your lips, coating his length in saliva and then pull off with a little 'pop’, your hands still working at the base of Taehyung’s cock, fondling his balls.

“C-Cum,” your lips gleam in saliva and precum, “Please… Cum on my face.”

“Want me to come all over your face, doll? You’re so fucking dirty.”

Taehyung grips at his cock, stroking it a few times, before he taps his cock against your cheek again. His mind is sent in turmoil when you stick your tongue out and before he knows it, he’s ejaculating in thick spurts all over your face.

You look so fucking pretty with globs of white all over your chin and cheek and Taehyung shivers in ecstasy, a growl ready at the back of his throat, “Y-You really have no idea what you do to me.”

You lick off what he can, relishing in the taste of Taehyung as you swipe your thumb over your mouth to coat it with his cum and suck on it, while your other hand reaches behind to squeeze his ass.

“You weren’t kidding about your ass,” you whirl, slapping his ass and loving the way it jiggles.

“Yeah? It’s all yours, Princess.”

Taehyung traces the knobs on the base of your spine with his other hand, finding warm and soft skin. You let out another desperate sound against your lips, feeling a shock of electricity zip through your back down to your very core.

Arching your back, you throw your head back and Taehyung takes this opportunity and slips his tongue in the hot wet of your mouth and licks fervently at the four corners, rougher and needier this time round.

It’s as if all at once, something connects between you two. You find it impossible to breathe properly, hands fisted in Taehyung’s locks, dizzy and lightheaded and hot all over. Taehyung’s teeth scrape over your bottom lip. It’s almost impossible to pull away, but when you finally break apart, a strand of saliva connects your mouths together and it lands on your chest.

“Fuck, so dirty,” Taehyung’s eyes are golden, blown wide, and he smiles at you so dearly that it makes your chest gnaw. It’s the littlest of moments and softest of gasps that render you breathless. Every part of your body that Taehyung has touched feels like it’s on fire, but it’s the deep timber of his voice, almost a growl, that makes you feel like he’s melting.

“So wet for me.”

He yearns to memorize the map of your body, the trenches of the grooves on your lower back, the stars living in your eyes, the parts of your body that have you shuddering from the pleasure.

You can feel it, the tip of his cock brushing against your wetness and you let out a soft plea. Your stomach ties into a knot when he slaps his dick against your clit a few times, loving how his head is already soaked by your juices. When you search for his eyes, you see that his irises are long gone, blanketed with pure, unadulterated lust.

“Want you. Want you to fuck me with your fat cock, Tae.”

He has to bite his own flesh to suppress the feral moan threatening to drip from his swollen, red lips, “Fucking hell. Can’t believe you used to hate me. Now here you are, begging me to fuck you.”

Your breath hitches when you feel him enter you, his cock pushing against your walls and stretching you out so good. He eases his cock slowly until it fills you the brim, pushing against your hot walls until he can go no further.

“You’re so tight for me. Feels fucking good,” he breathes out with a hazy smile, and your eyes flutter closed.

He doesn’t move for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the stretch and burn, before the wriggle of your hips urges him to move and he knows that he’s about to take you higher than ever. He lifts his lips to almost pull all the way out, the tip nestling an inch within your entrance, and without warning, slams back into your cunt, drawing a choked moan from the both of you as his length drags against your walls and hits a spot deep inside you.

Your back arches off the bed at the pleasure, a sharp cry leaving your lips.

“Fuck yeah, you like that princess? Going to be a good girl for me?”

“Yes, yes! Fuck Taehyung. You feel so good.”

This only prompts him to repeat the movement a few more times, until he settles on pounding into you mercilessly with a precision that he flaunts on the field. He continues fucking into that same sensitive spot over and over again with no signs of slowing down, finally able to fulfil the primal, animalistic need and urge that has accumulated ever since the day he met you.

As his hips snap into yours, his palm remains gentle on your face, his tongue hot and assimilating your own so passionately and tenderly that it makes your heart melt. There’s just something so tangibly tender and sensual about the way he’s kissing you, while fucking you senseless, as if he wants you to know how much he wants this, how much he wants to give himself to you with each stroke.

How much love he has to devote to you.

“Faster, faster, don’t stop, Taehyung. Fuck.”

You can feel every drag of Taehyung’s thick cock inside you, his ridges sliding against your walls and hitting that little bundle of nerves inside you that has got you babbling nonsense and your eyes rolled all the way up.

Screwing your eyes closed, the sparks glow brighter, and your moans heighten in pitch, while you sink your teeth into the swollen flesh of your lower lip. Above you, Taehyung learns that your mouth is sinful from the way you’re repeating curses and cries like a mantra and from the way drool is dripping down your chin. It’s just how unbelievably rough he’s fucking you, rough enough that you’re convinced there will be bruises all over your body and he’s going to rip you apart. But maybe that’s what you want, maybe that’s exactly what Taehyung intends to do to you.

“Say please.”

He then sits up and leans back to rest on his calves, before he hikes your leg up to rest over his shoulder, effectively folding you into half, and pulls you towards him roughly to fuck into you harder. You keen loudly at the new angle, how he’s able to fuck into you so much deeper, hands clawing at the sheets and dragging long, red marks on his back.

“Please, Taehyung. Please, you fuck me so fucking good.”

He smirks at how helpless you are underneath him and frees his hand from your thigh, reaching to search for yours, intertwining them tightly.

Which each thrust, the both of you grow closer to your impending orgasms, excitement curling in your abdomen along with pleasure that shoots straight to your core as Taehyung continues to pummel into your welcoming heat, strong thighs trembling against the backs of yours.

His other hand rest on your hips as his fingers squeeze and caress your skin each time you curse and whimper his name lasciviously, blending in with the symphony of skin slapping against skin, of his balls and thighs smacking against your ass that stirs the silence.

“I’m on the pill. Cum inside me, please. Want your hot cum in me.”

“Princess wants to be my personal cum-dumpster, doesn’t she?”

Taehyung dips his head over your chest and takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking it lavishly as if the taste of you is suddenly too much to bear. You wail in pleasure, back arched all the way up, the grip on his hand tightening as your hips rise to meet the brutal thrusts of his hips, pleasure shooting white hot to join the heated desire in your core.

That’s all you need to lurch over the edge. The coil within your core suddenly snaps with the tension and then comes the onslaught of immense white-hot pleasure, curling and roaring like a beast in your stomach, the pressure between your legs immeasurably high. You clamp around him one last time, galaxies firing in the murky red of your eyelids as he coaxes you through your orgasm.

You know Taehyung’s close too – now faster, more erratic, as he chases his release relentlessly. For a moment, all you can see is glorious light, blinding your vision until it consumes you whole and you’re shaking ferociously.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when Taehyung comes hard with a harsh shudder and an animalistic growl from between his clenched teeth, thrumming at his warm seed inside you. He isn’t done with you yet though. When he pulls out, the emptying sensation of his cock being drawn out of your walls gives rise to another wail from you, but you forget all over it when he rubs the swollen tip of his dick against your clit in a circular movement, playing to its sensitivity and pushing in his cum inside you again. His personal cum-dumpster.

Taehyung kisses you once more just because he can, and then lets his eyes run over the girl in front of him and his mind goes blank because wow, that actually happened – and it certainly did, evident from the mussed hair, blown hazy pupils, lovebites all over flustered skin and the soft, dreamy smile belonging to a pair of swollen-red lips.

This, Taehyung registers despite the giddy turbulence in his mind, is the most beautiful smile he has ever seen. So unbelievably, heart-wrenchingly beautiful that he can feel something in his chest splinter.

There’s a passing second of staring at each other, your cheek deep in the pillow, his head lulled against the headboard.

Taehyung lets out a chuckle, airy and filled with a rasp of post-sleep that would never come. He moves slowly, creaking the mattress in droning successions as he slips his arm around your waist, dusting little kisses on your nose before bringing up your hand to his lips. You realise that he likes doing that.

He stares at you for a long while, thumb over the back of your hand in tandem with the flick of his eyes, back and forth, between yours.

Even in the dark, Taehyung’s lovely flush is brilliant, otherworldly effervescent.

“You know when you said those things to Yoongi, I knew you said it out of a fit, but I couldn’t help but be upset about it.”

“Tae—”

His lips quirk upward on the edges into something knowing, “Then I realised that this was the first time I was genuinely upset about someone’s opinion about me. I usually don’t care what people think of me. I mean I don’t live to impress them, so this made me realised that I actually care a lot about what you think about me. About how you feel about me, whether I’m just a dumb fuckboy to you or whether you see the real me.”

He presses another kiss to your knuckles and your entire body tingles with warmth, “Then it hit me. That you know, maybe I really, really do have feelings for you and I want you to like me too. Like for real. I know I said that I don’t have the time and energy to deal with feelings. But you… You drive me insane. I used to be cynical about being so vulnerable for someone, and it’s so scary how much you can yearn for someone’s attention and affection. It’s just crazy – the things you do to me.”

As his words spill into the spaces between you, you simmer in the comfortable silence, ignoring the sharp tugs at your heartstrings.

“Never thought I’d live to see this day,” he mumbles, before pressing a kiss to your forehead with an earnestness that heightens the tugs at your heartstrings.

“Talk about character development,” you joke, burying your face in his chest and finding solace in the warmth of the sweet honey gold that he possesses. His hand on your waist begins caressing the small of your back, bringing you closer to him, until his nose is settled in the crook of your neck.

“Looks like my YOLO-ing did me some good,” he whispers into your ear and there’s a resplendent lilt to his voice.

It takes you a while for you to realise that he’s referring to the fake quote you’ve assigned to him.

Taehyung smiles at your deadpan expression and it’s the most beautiful thing in the world. His mouth is pulled into a rectangle and his eyes are curved into crescents. You realise this a long time ago, but you will finally admit to it now – Taehyung is beautiful. He is so beautiful that he could rearrange continent with that smile of his.

When he laughs and the moonlight catches on the flecks of gold in melted brown, that’s when you know that you’re struck with a love the size of the entire galaxy for him. To hell with your past hatred and feud with him, you’re just grateful to have your entire universe lying right beside you, right in this moment, under the burning light of the great, yellow moon that hangs heavy and radiant above the two of you.

that’s it. that’s the mammoth i’ve been brewing over the past few months (and rushing it like mad over the past two weeks)! i wanted to depict tae as accurately as possible so i made sure to include the little tiny details and quirks of his ;; did you know that he was the one who coined the term bread cheeks??? there’s a video of him comparing his cheeks to bread buns and i think that started the entire trend i’m just. i never want tae to be sad he has the purest and biggest heart

thank you so much for reading this and if you enjoyed it, please please hit that like or reblog button or/and hmu in my inbox/dms! ♡ i love receiving asks and messages tho sometimes ;; i just disappear from the face of the earth. i literally post a fic every 6 months sobs but next up sugarplum elegy (and i promise i won’t take another 6 months, my aim to upload it is end june!) love you guys much and remember to take care of yourself – i believe in your galaxy ☁️💫💜💞🌃✨

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watarigarasu · 4 years

Text

Upendi

Pairing: Kíli x Reader

Word count: 2,475

Warnings: None

Synopsis: Kíli's actions may be reckless but you have never regretted following him once.

Author’s note: The story was vaguely inspired by the song Upendi from the Lion King 2!

The path which led to the lake was narrow, covered in soft needles fallen from the nearby trees and an occasional cone there and there. Stepping on the latter was rather painful, especially considering the fact that your feet were bare and in the dim light of the moon you could not see all of them clearly. There were few quiet ouches leaving past your lips before you finally reached your destination, the place you wanted to see since you left your home with Thorin’s Company—the lake.

As you approached it, now walking down the mossy ground, you could not stop staring at the reflections dancing on the waters’ surface, the moon swaying to the sides as if it was dancing rhythmically to the melody only it could hear. High bulrushes were growing at the southern shore, perfectly hiding the shallow waters from the eyes of any curious passersby, if there would only be any. The forest in which The Company decided to rest for tonight was peaceful and welcoming, much different than the magical lands you wandered through, full of dangerous and wild creatures you have never seen before.

Placing your shoes at the sandy coast, you took off the tunic and looked around to make sure that nobody was following you for the last time. You would never suspect any of the loyal and honourable Dwarves of such a thing, however… you had your doubts about Thorin’s nieces. Very reasonable ones. You did not want to have your clothes stolen for the sake of some kind of joke, that is why you decided it would be better to be safe than sorry and hid the tunic in the nearby bushes. If something happened, you would at least have one piece of fabric to cover yourself up.

Turning around, you took few steps forward to check whether the water was cold or not with your toes. Considering the fact that the latest days were unbearably hot, it should be warm and you craved a bath too much to withdraw now. It was your evening, you deserved it after killing few vicious orcs which were chasing The Company. There was still dirt and black blood in your hair and under the nails, you probably smelled of sweat and the grass stains on your clothes certainly did not add anything positive to your overall miserable look. Cold or not, you needed a solid bath.

“It may not be as hot as you, but I can assure you that it’s quite nice.”

You turned your head to the right so suddenly that you almost felt the cramp in the muscles. To your surprise, there was a pair of dark eyes staring at you from above the enormous rock and the familiar smile spreading on the lips of the person you recognized immediately.

Kíli observed you with the amused expression, his elbows resting on the rock as the lower half of his body must have still been in the water. For a moment he reminded you of a mermaids you heard the stories about and the image of him weaving his chubby fish-like tail almost made you lighten up. Almost, for the initial thought which could explain his presence here was nowhere near funny for you, and so, you asked:

“Where is Fíli?”

Kíli pouted.

“Am I not enough company for you?”

“I don’t want any company, I want to take a bath!”

“Well then, that makes two of us.” Even in the dim light you could see him wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Oh, please…”

Resting your hands on the hips, you looked at him. You would have to be blind to not notice the way he was talking to you, flirting with you, charming you every day in almost every moment. For some reason, the young prince grew fond of you and the thought itself was quite flattering, you had to admit, but it did not change the fact that you were not sure whether his uncle would approve your relationship. Kíli’s feelings were returned, very much so, but no matter how much you adored him, you were still just a human.

The possibility of never truly being with him broke your heart.

“Come on,” he encouraged, his voice suddenly losing the frivolous tone and becoming purely sympathetic instead. “The water is warm, I promise.”

You smiled, seeing the way the moonlight reflected in his eyes. You knew that he observed you, when you took off the rest of your clothes and placed them on the sand, you could feel his gaze ghosting over your body, remembering it and caressing with the delicacy of his loving heart. Eventually, you went in the water, first to the ankles’ level, then calves, thighs, hips and waist. Bending your knees, you sunk into the lake deep enough so only your head was above the surface.

Indeed, the water was warm.

“Now, you ruined the whole show,” Kíli sighed theatrically and shook his head slightly.

“How so?” You approached him so close, that you could rest your arms on the opposite side of the rock and look at him in the eyes. “I thought I was not your type.”

Kíli blinked few times, apparently confused.

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve heard exactly what you said during the dinner in Rivendell,” you teased, content that for once you were the reason for the adorable, puzzled expression on his face and not the other way around. “How did it go? I’m not fond of those maids because of their thin figure, creamy skin and what else?”

“I did not mean that!”

“Of course you didn’t.”

“Besides,” he frowned, solemn. “You are far more magnificent than even the greatest of Elf maids.”

The way he said those words proved you that he really believed in them. There was no false, no bad intentions, just the overwhelming adoration and sincere truth.

Slowly, Kíli reached to you above the rock which was now irritatingly separating you two, and stroked your cheek. He smiled when you leaned to his hand, responsive for his touch and loving the way his fingers felt against your skin.

“You are perfect to me,” he confessed quietly. “And I love, love your high cheekbones.”

Kissing the inner side of his palm was another way to hide the amusement which painted on your face, the undeniable proof of the effect his words had upon you. It surprised you when he suddenly moved back, taking his hand away from you and diving in the lake, the cheeky expression not fading until his head went completely underwater.

Turning around, you tried to look for him, perfectly aware of whatever kind of shenanigans he was up to, but spotting his dark hair in the equally black water was impossible. You did not move, firmly standing your ground near the rock and ready to either hold it for your life or even immediately jump out of the lake on it if needed. You knew how much he and the other members of The Company enjoyed playing in water, splashing around with a lot of roaring laughs, competitions and challenges, that is why you were expecting the worst already—to get splashed or pulled underwater or tickled with some kind of seaweeds or any other unpleasant, slimy thing. What you did not expect, however, was that Kíli would eventually emerge from the water right in front of you, so close that your chests were almost touching, and do it carefully and slowly, keeping an eye contact with you until he stood straight on the sandy ground below your feet.

Droplets of water were running down his hair, long strands now clinging to his cheeks, forehead, shoulders and back. Some of the beads fell down, back to the lake, trailing the various wet lines on his body, while the others rested in the curly hair on his strong arms and chest, slightly reflecting the pale moonlight just like his eyes were. It was not the first time when you saw him half-naked but definitely the first time when you were so close to each other in such a state.

“Admiring the view, my dear?” he teased, apparently noticing the look in your eyes.

You could only hope that he did not somehow notice how dry did your mouth became all of a sudden.

Before you could think of any proper answer or wit comeback, he gently took your hand and pulled you after him, saying:

“Come with me, there’s something I want to show you.”

You agreed, partly grateful that he did not decide to continue this discussion you had no chance of winning, not after showing such an obvious interest in him. Still, you were curious about his idea, you could not deny that those were often quite dangerous but no less fascinating and always led to something worth remembering. It was impossible to refuse, especially when you remembered what he told you few days ago, when you followed him to one of the apparently abandoned caves to look for the hidden treasures, most likely forgotten by their rightful owners. The place stank of fear and the quick possibility of getting eaten alive by some vicious creatures but before Kíli went down the cave, he looked at you in the eyes and swore:

“Don’t be afraid, I won’t let anything bad to happen to you.”

He kept that promise, as he always did.

This time, you followed him to the eastern shore, walking through the shallow waters and carefully taking every step just in case there would be sharp rocks on the bottom. Either there were none or you managed to dodge all of them, eventually you found yourself standing in front of the enormous pile of rocks, half drowned in the lake, and that was the place where Kíli stopped and turned back to you, still not letting go of your hand.

“Do you trust me?” he asked firmly.

“What kind of question is that?” You frowned at how serious his voice was. “Of course I do, but–“

“No buts! Keep that thought in mind and follow me, alright? Can you hold your breath?”

“It depends on why—Kíli, what do you want to do?” You were growing more and more suspicious but somehow with him by your side it was not anxiety which overwhelmed you, but rather excitement. He would never risk your life, that was for sure, so you had no real reasons to be afraid. Somewhere deep in your heart you knew that if he had to, he would risk his life for your safety without hesitation also.

Mahal, how could you not fall for him?

“You won’t regret it,” he assured you, now cheerful back again, as he knew that you would not turn away now.

“It doesn’t answer my question in the slightest.”

“Just trust me. Look, do you see this very ominous, dark hole under water, right there?” Kíli pointed a finger at the place where the pile of rocks was touching the lake’s surface and drowning deeper.

You nodded, not wholly convinced if you wanted to see it.

“We’ll have to dive in there, swim under the rock and then we’ll reach something absolutely fantastic! You’ve never seen anything like that before, I can assure you.”

His enthusiasm was undoubtedly contagious, because soon you found yourself wondering what could wait for you on the other side. Being a human, you were not overly interested in the undergrounds, small and dark spaces appearing as claustrophobic and not even as closely as stunning as the beauty which could be seen on the earth. However, you have spent enough time with Dwarves to learn that once you would get rid of the prejudices and expectations, you could find the greatest treasures and values in the darkest times and places.

And so, you sighed deeply and asked:

“Ladies first?”

Although you were wary of the time you were supposed to spend underwater, the distance was not even half as long as you thought. Holding your breath and swimming in the darkness while surrounded with nothing but the stones was not the most pleasant experience, you had to admit, but Kíli made sure that you always felt his presence nearby. He helped you to find the surface once you were on the other side and when you caught your breath and blinked, adjusting your sight to the dim light, you realized that you were no longer exposed to the moon—on the contrary, you were inside the cave with roof so high that you wondered if you were still by the same lake. Nevertheless, it was not the mystical passage to that hidden place, nor its size which got you awestruck but the source of the delicate, blue light.

It seemed as if the thousands, millions of tiny lanterns were hanging from the roof and the walls, wet stones reflecting the light and making the whole cave shine as if under a magical spell. Long branches and leaves were reaching down the ground, illuminated reminding you of a colourful jellyfishes, floating in the thin air instead of the water. Or, as you believed for a while, it was you who suddenly learned how to breathe underwater and observed this whole scenery of the world you have never experienced before.

Being to mesmerized by the view in front of you, you could not notice how Kíli’s undivided attention was focused completely on you, on discovering how your features changed when you realized where you were, on how the happiness and surprise changed the way you looked around, on how freely and completely you were yourself in that very moment. He could not even think about the beauty of the surroundings, not when he had you in front of him and the overwhelming love filling his heart.

“How did you know about this place?” you asked, genuinely curious and only then caught his gaze upon you.

“I was roaming.” He shrugged and approached you, the water as bright as the cave’s roof. “It made me think about you.”

“Do you often think about me then?”

“All the time.”

His confession was sincere and to prove that, he placed his hand at the side of your neck, caressing the line of the jaw with his thumb and hungrily eyeing your lips. He wanted to kiss you so badly, to hold you in his arms and never let you go, to stay in this magical place together, where nothing could disturb nor harm you. Instead, he simply leaned to you and rested his cheek at the crook of your neck, feeling how chill and wet your skin was against his.

“I love you,” Kíli whispered and the cave almost swallowed the soft sound of his voice. “You have no idea how much you mean to me, my dear.”

#kili #kili x reader #the hobbit #kili ktuesday #the hobbit fanfiction #kili x thin!reader

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ecampbellsoup · 4 years

Text

Outlander Moments of Impact: I Have No Life, But You

To be attracted to someone is often merely the submission of the senses; and even more often than not, it’s outside of our control. We are drawn to whom we are drawn. There’s no formula.

To love someone is a choice. To choose to stay, to choose them over and over and over; to choose them when you hate them, when they’ve betrayed you. To wrap your life into their arms and decide on them regardless of what will follow.

Jamie and Claire Fraser’s love story is about as unconventional as it gets.

Some might claim it’s over-the-top...that it lacks realism. And not simply because of the time travel involved, but because of the events surrounding their love; who could endure all of that suffering let alone love the person on the other side of survival?

The Frasers have been through hell and high water this much is sure. Yet it is the tender moments when they confess their love that gives this relationship a truth that allows it to transcend from page, screen and directly into our hearts.

A scene that exemplifies this in a pure, simple, yet lovely way is in 5x4 “The Company We Keep” when Jamie and Claire share their love, their doubts, their desires in the forest. And they choose each other again.

Let’s break down this scene for some context, shall we?

The tension of the day melting away by the firelight, the Frasers finally have a moment of reprieve. Basking in a rare occurrence of fun, they dance.

Taking her hand, Jamie spins Claire with adorable delight. They have lost so much; to watch them enjoy life is nothing short of wonderful.

Claire beams, glows, is alight with love. Laughing with glee, unable to contain her joy, she watches Jamie dance for the first time. She just loves him loves him loves him.

Drawing close to each other, arm in arm, the walk away together from the party escaping the crowd.

Sweetly, Claire confesses, “I didn’t know you could dance like that.” Even to this day, she continues to learn things about Jamie; she relishes discovering him.

Unable to contain their unbridled happiness, they giggle the whole way. Teenagers once again, they savor every second in soft, warm affection.

Taking her hand, Jamie twirls Claire again, before tucking her into himself. He wants her always close to him.

They go further and further into the isolated woods. Bursting out in a chuckle Claire questions, “Where are you taking me?” Jamie chirps, “Away from prying eyes.” I want you alone. I want time with you, just you and me.

Claire flirting, “Well, I should warn you: my husband’s as jealous as he is handsome.”

Continuing to play, sneaking out from under his arm, Claire states, “And you should know, I can knock you off your feet, sir.” Seeing her wobbling, Jamie jokes, “You can’t even walk in a straight line.”

Humorously, Claire inquires, “Can you recite the alphabet backwards?” Throwing it right back, Jamie responds, “I expect so. English or Greek?” It is almost as if these two have just met and are exploring one another; their humor mingling with their desire.

Conceding, “Oh, well, never mind. If you can recite either of those forwards, then you’re in better condition than I.” Claire captures Jamie’s waist, kissing him.

Walking away from her, the mood shifts ever so slightly to something more serious at hand. Tentatively, “There’s a…a question I want to ask you.”

Eyes still twinkling from him, “What?”

Pausing for just a second, face shining, Jamie asks, “Do you want wee Bonnie? Do you want to keep her?”

Approaching Claire he continues, “We have a big house. And I’ve seen you wi’ her, Sassenach. I’ve seen how you would’ve looked with Bree. And I thought, maybe this might be the last chance for us to raise a bairn together.” Jamie’s face is full of emotion: loss from having missed out on Bree, desire for every experience with Claire, and hope for their future hand in hand. He wants to offer Claire the world. He would lay it at her feet that she would lack no good thing.

Silently listening until now, Claire knows she must inquire, “What would you think if she stayed?” She understands well what this conversation means to her husband, but she also knows that there is another couple who have suffered the loss of a child, and they have the opportunity to give them one.

Not understanding yet, Jamie presses, “Here? In Brownsville?”

Taking Jamie’s hand, “It’s been suggested. Lucinda’s taken a liking to her And I think she needs our wee Bonnie more than anyone. She’d be in good hands.”

Practically, Jamie agrees, explaining it would be a blessing to the Brown’s estate. But then he adds, “I have no life, but you, Claire.” He sees she is his world. Everything he is, he desires, culminate in the woman standing before him. She is it.

“But if you wanted another child, I thought that perhaps I might give ye one. One that you wouldn’t have to suffer carrying.” He seeks that she miss out on nothing with him. Yet he also wants her to bear no more pain than she already has.

Overwhelmed, Claire’s eyes fill with passion. She struggles, searching to even find the words. Who this man is to her.

Claire leans into Jamie, affirming, “Please know, that if it’s at all possible, I love you even more for wanting to take the chance.”

“And I also regret that we were never parents together.” Claire is making sure Jamie knows that she feels exactly as he does. Despite being able to raise Bree, she missed him every second and felt his absence with every breath.

Yet Claire is nothing if not honest, so she claims, “But, regret, isn’t reason enough.” Jamie’s face falls ever so slightly as he grasps the truth of Claire’s words.

Sensing his masked disappointment, his grief, Claire professes with every fibre of her being, “l love our life.”

“I love our home together.” Slowly, she is healing the wounds of his heart with the balm of her professed love, her choice of him regardless of the cost.

“But, would we even be the best home for her? And then there’s our obituary.” Even in their desire, Claire practically recognizes their reality: danger follows them.

Holding her hand, Jamie brings it to his lips and kisses it. All these gestures continually show Claire she’s not alone anymore in the world anymore. They aren’t alone.

“I am grateful for every day we have.” You and I: we are enough. Every second we have is enough. You are more than enough for me, Jamie.

With that sparkle in his eye that only Claire can give, Jamie agrees, “As am I.” And they kiss.

Throwing her arms around him, squeezing him tight, tears flow down her cheeks. Claire holds fast to Jamie. She can embrace him and he is really there.

And then, for a brief glorious moment, they linger in each other’s atmosphere.

When Jamie and Claire made the decision for her to go back through the stones, and back in time and space, they did so for her child: Bree. Claire would have gladly died with Jamie that fateful day ...if not for their Bree.

They made the sacrifice so that their flesh and blood could live and the legacy of their love would walk the earth.

Despite the fact that she knew her life and the life of her child would be spared at Culloden, Claire also knew well that a piece her heart would perish with Jamie. Something that could never be replaced. Something that no amount of time exists to fix.  

When Jamie released the most precious and dear person on earth to him to sustain their lives, he did so prepared to die, prepare to not have to go on living without them. Yet, he survived.

The chasm between Jamie and Claire was tangible to all around them, even if it remained unspoken. You can burn the clothing, you can force yourself to never utter their name, but you cannot erase their fingerprints on your heart. And they both had to choose to go on every day for twenty years silently calling through the skies for their lost one.

But on this night in the woods, the same setting where their love sparked, the home they once lost has been restored. Their daughter is alive. She is well. She is with them. They are both alive. They are well. They are together.

Confessing and claiming their love yet again they affirm: you are my home and you always will be. You are the lean-to that keeps out the rain. You are what gives me life. And that is enough.

Despite it all, they would make the same choice again and again and again.

“Then kiss me, Claire," he whispered, “And know that you are more to me than life, and I have no regret.”

“I do know this: even now, after all the pain, and death, and heartbreak that followed, I still would make the same choice.”

#outlander #outlander moments of impact #outlander moi i have no life but you #outlander 5x4 #jamie x claire #otp: jamie x claire

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twoidiotwriters1 · 3 years

Text

Pure Blood 36 (Sirius Black x F!Oc)

Words: 2,560

Masterlist:

Chapter 35

"I don't even know if I'll be able to walk without the crutch," I lean against the wall, watching the others choose a dress for prom.

"That is no excuse for not wearing a nice dress,” says Marlene.

“You don’t need to walk on it, just wear it," Lily adds.

"Better just wear normal clothes and use my crutch to trip others–“

“Don't be grumpy. It’ll be fun. It’s our last party at Hogwarts!” says Jenna.

"Won't you choose a dress?" Marlene asks.

“Jenna already chose it for me.”

"You say it as if I control you.”

"Because you do," I joke. She rolls her eyes.

"At least I know that Black will thank me for it, because you’re ungrateful.”

I laugh.

“Don't overreact. I agreed with the dress. It’s not that important. The real gossip is that it’ll be the first dance in which the two dungheads will finally be together without trying to kill each other,” I point out to Lily.

The others squeal with excitement making Lily blush.

“That's beautiful! We’ll finally be with Lily without her bickering about James!”adds Marlene.

“I never did that!” Lily exclaims.

“Yes you did!” We all say.

"Even Jenna and I knew it," I comment. I move my crutch a little, but it’s a big mistake, I hit one of the boxes next to me causing it to fall and the clothes that were inside are left disorderly on the floor, also, I lose my balance and end up hitting my knee.

"Ok, P. Why don't you wait outside?"

I frown. “You're talking to me like I’m a little girl.”

"Here, go by some sweets,” She says handing me money.

I make a face.

“Fine.”

I leave the store and walk to the nearby bench. I'll rest first, my knee still hurts.

For a few minutes I only see people passing from one place to another. Some girls also look for their prom dresses, makeup, accessories. They squeal while discussing their ideas with their friends. I laugh at their excitement, at least some get to enjoy this.

"Oh hello, Persephone,” I turn to my right to meet Peter.

"Hey, Pete,” He sits next to me.

"How long have you been sitting here?" He asks.

"Uh, just a few minutes, why?”

"Oh, no nothing. You, uh- haven't you seen anything strange?”

"Not yet, but it's still early. " I joke. "Why do you say that?”

“No reason,” He responds quickly.

"Are you okay, Peter? You're sweating a lot,” I point to his wet hair.

"Yes! Yes, I'm okay. Just, uh, a little nervous. It’s almost graduation and there are many things to do…”

"Really? I thought you just had to get a tux, you already have a date, what else do you have planned?”

"Uh, you know, I want that night to be special for the- the girl, my date, yeah,” He looks away.

"If you say so… Need help?”

"What?" He turns back to me. “No, no thanks. I'm fine, everything’s fine,” He looks to his right again. Rosier, Regulus and some other Slytherin boys stare back at us.

"Peter? Sure you're okay? Are they bothering you?”

"I should go. Goodbye, Persephone,” He doesn’t wait for my answer and runs in the opposite direction from the others.

That was very strange.

My gaze returns to Regulus. I sigh when he continues on his way with his friends.

How did he take the news about Alphard? Or maybe he already knew. I wish I could talk to him like I used to.

***

After a month, our student life finally ends. Very strange weeks, from my physical therapy with Madame Pomfrey, the other therapy with McGonagall and Dumbledore, although this was not planned, but it helped a lot to talk to the real adults about everything that I went through.

They didn't provide any solutions to my questions, but I still appreciate the help and advice. Dumbledore had a lot of muggle metaphors and references. I hope that one day they serve me and it’s not just a sign that the Headmaster has already gone crazy.

The time with my friends and boyfriend was quite relaxing. Talking about the future with them no longer sounded so overwhelming. We all panic about what might happen, but at least we are together.

The graduation ceremony was quite emotional. Apollo, Jane and Atlas congratulated me. My friends met my family and the little boy loved the attention, although he’s still a bit upset with Sirius. He was expecting another small gift and when he received nothing, his approval disappeared.

Only until the day of the big party where everyone wore their best clothes, did I realize that it was all over. Next year we won’t return to Hogwarts.

No more jokes in the hallways, late-night meetings with Remus, we no longer have to try to calm Lily before exams. We’ll no longer be able to see the gardens, go to the kitchens. One more minute trying to remember my entire experience in a magic school and I’ll cry.

"Several people are upset because they continue to trip near our table,” says Sirius handing me a glass of punch. “Do you have any idea what it could be? Because, it can't be you. You don't have the cane anymore,” He smiles raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe it's their long dresses. They must watch that,” I smile innocently and he shakes his head.

Oh, boy. Sirius looks like a real star. His long hair is slicked back, his tux fits him perfectly, and that beautiful smile lights up the entire room. Since when did I become such a cheesy girl? I don't know, but I blame him. Him and his perfect face.

"Admiring me again, darling?”

"I can't help it," I say without regret. Why should I?

"You flatter me, but you’re not the only one in front of someone dazzling.”

I laugh out loud.

"Are we really flirting that bad?" He laughs too.

“I don't think we ever tried. It's fun,” He drags his chair closer to me and puts his arm on the back of my chair. "This party is not so bad, is it?”

"I'm sorry I can't dance any longer. I feel like I will sound like an old woman, but my knees can't take it anymore.”

“Don't worry. I like to be here. Only with you,” He kisses my temple. I lean on his shoulder.

The others must be having fun. They laugh, dance and sing to the rhythm of the music. I think this is the first time I've seen Lily and Remus so relaxed. I'm even beginning to doubt if they didn’t get drunk prior the party, but I don’t judge, we are all of legal age.

Sirius and I listen to the music changing from afar to a slow, romantic song. James and Lily don't hesitate to be the first to share it. Some people are still a bit shocked by their official relationship, but I think it doesn't matter at this point. Jenna and Marlene dance near them. They all look so cute, and even Remus got his last dance, although it didn’t last long.

“Percy," Sirius calls after a while. I turn to see him. "Uh, there’s something I should talk to you about.”

"Are you pregnant?”

He laughs. "Not yet.”

"What's going on?”

“I know that after all this, you’ll continue to live with Apollo, but I wanted to ask you something. You don't have to answer me now, not even this week. I just want to give you the idea and you have time to think about it,” He says nervously.

“Okay?" I say confused.

"I wanted to know… Okay, the other day I got to know how much money my uncle Alphard left me and I was thinking about maybe using that money to buy an apartment. Not that is not cool with the Potters or anything. It's just that, I think it would be a good idea.”

"That's great, Sirius.”

Sirius living alone in an apartment, could be fun, watching him solve all the domestic problems alone and stuff.

“Yeah, that's what Euphemia and Fleamont said, even James, but I also thought– Maybe you… Uh, well, do you want to move in with me?”

“What?"

His nerves increase.

“Only if you want, you know. There is no pressure and it's not because we have to do something else, I don't want you to misunderstand things,” He speaks quickly. "I thought it’d be great to be with you and it’s also safer, we would protect each other. As usual.”

"Sirius, I don't know.”

“Think about it, love. I'll see some places with the Potters, everything will be fine no matter what you decide. When you’re ready you can tell me.”

Live with Sirius? Just the two? I'm not going to lie, it sounds good. But I still feel like I'm not physically ready yet and I'd be better off with Jane and Apollo. Just for a while.

But, moving in with my boyfriend. Not in a million years would I have thought of that possibility.

***

I didn't think I would cry on my last day. Right now I have to leave the room that I shared for seven years with Jenna. But what surprises me the most is that I’m not crying about leaving school, but because of the little letter that I found on my pillow.

Dear Persephone,

Despite all the problems we've had, I always considered you a sister. Part of my family, with or without my parents.

Hopefully one day you can forgive me for my past and future actions.

I can only tell you that I will always think of you in any and it is never my intention to hurt you in any way. I hope your life is better than mine. Take care of my older brother and your future together.

Since I met you, I discovered that my family motto is wrong. Family does not always have to be pure.

I will always love you, Persephone.

Do not worry about me. I will take care of you from afar.

Reggie x

I fold the letter, hold it to my chest, and squeeze it against me. In an ideal world, Regulus would be with us celebrating a new era. I’d be holding him so tight that he would complain. In an ideal world, I would protect one of my best friends forever.

***

"And I thought you wouldn't buy any nonsense with the inheritance money," I say crossing my arms.

"What are you talking about, Singh?" James says squealing like a little kid. "This is the coolest thing I've ever seen!”

"Your child is overexciting mine, Persephone,” says Lily to my side.

“It's not like he can help it. He thinks he can do things by himself,” I wince.

"You don’t like it?" Sirius pouts. He is seated on the new bike that he just bought.

"If I thought before that you could kill yourself with a broom, now I think you will kill yourself with that, darling,” I smile sarcastically.

"But do you like it?”

I roll my eyes.

"Yes, Sirius. It's pretty.”

James and Sirius keep talking about… things I don't understand. They both laugh and point to each part.

"I didn't think they would really do it,” Remus says from my left side. Lily and I look at him in surprise.

"You knew?”

“I thought they were joking,” he sighs. “Seven years and I keep falling for this. My bad.”

"Sirius, do you know how we could make this bike even cooler?”

"I hear you.”

"How about we use a little magic?”

"You, my friend. You’re a genious!" Sirius points out.

"This just keeps getting worse," says Lily.

“I don't want to see more. I have therapy,” I say and enter Apollo's house leaving Lily in mom mode with the two children and their new toy.

"Auntie, Phoney!" Atlas greets me from the chair that he shares with his mother, who is preparing some things for my therapy.

"Nephew, Atlas! I just saw you five minutes ago, but it's nice that you continue to get excited when you see me!” I sit next to him and tickle his little head. He laughs, but then he looks behind me. “Remooh." He points it out.

Remus smiles at the little boy and sits in a single chair.

"Don't you want to be with your friends?" I ask teasingly.

“They are very close to drooling on the bike. Atlas behaves better than them.”

"Yes?" The boy asks and we laugh.

"That's right, my love.”

"Ready?" says Jane. Then the torture begins.

At first it was very difficult, I couldn't help screaming, but now it's better. I do my best to relax or at least endure the pain.

"Just a couple more weeks and you'll be better,” reports my sister-in-law. She smiles. “And now, talking about the two children outside. You better get used to it. You’re lucky that Sirius chose a motorcycle. Your brother gets like this every time he gets an old coin. Ever since he knew it was a muggle hobby, he was interested in it. He has a huge collection.”

“No wonder my brother is so weird. Since we were little, he got excited about very boring things all the time…”

“Actually, collecting coins is more interesting than you think,” Remus adds and I look at him with a raised eyebrow. "Ok, I get it.”

"It hurt?" Atlas asks pointing at my leg.

“Not so much anymore.”

"I'll help you,” He leans towards me and with my help he gets up a little and kisses my cheek.

"Thanks, Atlas," I laugh.

"Will you hit me if I say you look nice with a baby?" Remus says with a mischievous smile.

“Hit you? Persephone!” Jane scolds me.

“Don't believe him, Janie. It is an exaggeration.”

“When she had the cane, she tripped me and I told her that if she kept complaining about the pain, no one would want to help her. I still have the bruise.”

"You have such a weak skin,” I pout.

Jane laughs shaking her head.

"But I still think you should have a baby.”

I roll my eyes.

"I already have one and he bought a motorcycle when I wasn't looking at him.”

"Wouldn't you like to have children, Persephone?" asks Jane.

"I don’t know. Maybe. I like children, I just don't know if I want to have one. They’re better when I can return them to their parents,” They both laugh. “What about you, Wolfie?”

"First I need a girlfriend.”

"Oh yeah. I almost forgot!” I roll my eyes. “Answer me.”

“Maybe," Remus replies.

"Well, for now I'll just be the favorite aunt of two children," I kiss Atlas's cheek.

Jane gets up when she finishes healing me.

"Yes, speaking of which…”

"What's going on?”

She smiles nervously.

"You will be an aunt to three babies.”

"What?" I screech.

“They're twins,” She announces.

"You and my brother need another hobby,” I grimace.

"Wow, three children!” Remus says surprised. "And so fast! Percy, can you imagine your children being friends with James and Lily's? It would be total chaos!”

"Oh, don't go to that dark place, Remus. You would be the official babysitter of that chaos,” I joke.

“Oh, no…”

Taglist:

@avipshamitra @auroraawrites @findzelda @lizlil @siriusmuch @chloe-geoghegan1 @reverse-hxlland @may-rapp @the-specific-oceans @eveft @secret-obsessions @theeicedamericano @xkonpinkx @inkandpen22

@littledeadgirlwalking

@yunloyal

@bloodorangemoonlight

#pure blood #sirius black #Sirus Black x reader #Persephone Singh #james potter #Remus lupin #regulus black #Lily Evans #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #twoidiots writing

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animezing-fandoms · 4 years

Text

The Dragon’s Family

Masterlist

Relationships: Nalu

Warnings: A couple of suggestive jokes when Loke is present but other than that the bulk of this fic is just pure fluff.

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve at the Dragneel house and Natsu finds out that he and Lucy’s kids have the wrong idea about the kind of dragon Igneel was from a book they found on dragons. They think he was a killer just like the other dragons 400 years ago, and Natsu can’t say anything to convince them otherwise. Thankfully, Lucy remembers a spell that Wendy told her about that could bring Igneel back to life for just one night.

A/N: Hey guys, Merry Christmas Eve! I got this idea after watching How to Train Your Dragon: Homecoming and I thought it would be cool to see how Igneel would react to Natsu and Lucy’s family. So give this fic a read if you like and I hope you all have a great Holiday!

---------

In a small cottage in the woods on the outskirts of Magnolia, a mother, two children, and a flying cat were putting the final decorations up around their house for Christmas.

"Whoa I can see the whole living room from up here!" A little boy exclaims.

The mother who was on a ladder halfway up against the Christmas tree heard her son and looked up and saw the flying cat holding him in the rafters to wrap garland around them.

"Happy please be careful not to drop Igneel!" The mother pleads.

"Don't worry Luce, this little guy's not heavy like you are!" Happy replies.

"It's not his weight I'm concerned about." Lucy growls through gritted teeth while a vein pops out of her forehead.

"He squirms around a lot, especially in that sweater so make sure you've got a good grip on-"

"AH!" Igneel shouts as he slides out of his sweater and falls towards the floor.

"Igneel!" Lucy shouts.

"Don't worry mommy I've got him!" The daughter says and runs towards her falling little brother.

Just as she's about to reach him she trips on the garland that was still on the floor and is about to hit it with her brother when they're suddenly both caught by someone who appeared out of nowhere, as if by magic.

"Never fear my dear, for your knight in shining armor is here!" The hero says.

"Loke!" Lucy exclaims in relief while holding her hand over her chest.

"Thank goodness! It's times like these when I'm glad you can open your gate on your own. And even happier that you'll come help the kids too when Natsu or I can't get to them." Lucy says.

"Well why wouldn't I? They're your children so I care just as much for them as I do for you." Loke explains as he sets Igneel down and ruffles his spiky blonde hair.

"You're so cool Uncle Loke!" Igneel exclaims with stars in his eyes.

"Why thank you young man. That is an image I try to keep up." Loke says while pushing up his glasses.

"Thanks for keeping me from falling on my face." The girl says.

"Why of course Miss Nashi. You may have inherited your father's wild pink locks but you were also gifted with your mother's beautiful face." He says and holds her chin gently.

"To see any damage come to a face as lovely as your mother's would be an absolute tragedy! Especially since I imagine she looked just as adorable as you are now when she was your age!" Loke exclaims and tickles Nashi's stomach.

"And even though many years have passed, your mother still looks just as radiant as when I first met her." Loke says and comes to stand beside the ladder Lucy was on and winks at her.

"Very smooth Loke." Lucy chuckles.

"That's not the only thing about me that's smooth Lucy." Loke adds.

Lucy's face turned bright red when she saw Loke open up his button down shirt to expose his chest to her.

"Feel free to touch anywhere you'd like to see just how smooth I am." Loke requests.

"I thought dad didn't like it when Loke flirts with mom?" Igneel asks his big sister.

"He doesn't. That's why Uncle Loke only does it when dad isn't home." Nashi explains to him.

"Loke keep your shirt on when the kids are here! It's bad enough that they're already exposed to Gray's stripping habit, I don't want them to have two men in their life that are constantly flashing them!" Lucy complains.

"Of course, I must have been so distracted by your beauty that I've forgotten my manners. Allow me to conduct myself in a more gentlemanly manner by holding the ladder to keep you safe and steady." Loke says while holding the ladder.

"This wouldn't have to do with the fact that I'm also wearing a skirt right now would it?" Lucy asks.

Loke merely chuckles and blushes.

"Well, either way it doesn't matter. I should go put a fire in the fireplace since it gets really cold in this house without Natsu." Lucy says and starts to come down the ladder.

Then Loke suddenly appeared at her side, delicately holding her hand.

"While we're waiting for his return I could think of a few ways to keep you warm." He says suggestively.

"Just what do you think you're doing with my wife Loke?" Natsu asks.

Loke's smoldering look turned to one of fear as he froze when he heard Natsu's voice from the front door behind him as it shut.

"Daddy!" Nashi and Igneel exclaim as they run towards Natsu.

He scoops his kids up in a big hug and smiles at them both before frowning at Loke who was still holding Lucy's hand.

Loke immediately let go of it before smiling sheepishly at Natsu.

"Oh well if it isn't the man of the house!" Loke chuckles nervously.

"Your wife mentioned that you were out on a job. I didn't expect you back so soon."

"It was a short job. I wouldn't take one any longer on Christmas Eve." Natsu explains.

He sets the kids down and walks over to Lucy.

"And if anyone's gonna be keeping Lucy warm it's me." Natsu says and holds her waist and lifts her off the ladder.

"Oh Natsu..." Lucy says softly and holds Natsu's shoulders before kissing him.

Natsu melts into the kiss and adjusts his hold on her to wrap his arms around her waist to keep her steady.

“Well you may be here now to keep her warm but while you were gone I was the first one to taste your wife’s delicious cookies.” Loke brags.

Natsu turned away from Lucy to frown at Loke.

“You did what now?” He growled.

“Natsu he’s talking about the Christmas cookies I baked today.” Lucy says.

“This one looks like Santa!” Nashi says, holding up a cookie.

“And this one looks like a Christmas tree!” Igneel says while holding another.

“Oh.” Natsu says and relaxes.

“But if you’re offering then I would love to sample those-“

“Get lost Loke!” Natsu scolds before Lucy closes his gate.

“Does he always show up and say stuff like that to ya when I’m not around?” Natsu asks his wife.

“Not enough to warrant another talk like the one we gave him before our wedding. Although because of you it was more of a threatening lecture than a conversation between mature adults.” Lucy reminds him.

“I’m sorry about that Luce. I just don’t like it when other guys say stuff to you like that. I’ve never been good at saying romantic stuff to ya, so when other guys do that it makes me feel like I’m failing ya in some way.” Natsu admits.

“Natsu, Loke might be great at sweet talk but you’re a sweet guy. You show me how much you love me through your actions, and that speaks so much louder to me than words ever could.” Lucy says and cups his cheek.

Natsu nuzzled his face against her palm and smiled.

“That’s ironic coming from an author.” He says.

Lucy laughed and then Natsu scooped her up again and spun her around while pecking her lips over and over. He stopped and set her down when he felt a tug on his pants. He looked down and saw his son looking up at him with curiosity.

“Daddy what job did you take that was so important you left us on Christmas Eve?” He asks.

“Well it was a job that only I could do. That huge blizzard yesterday froze Hargeon’s port and all of the ships were stuck. So I had to go un-freeze the port by melting the ice with my fire.” Natsu explains.

“Whoa, you melted an entire bay with your magic?” Nashi asks in amazement while resting her weight on her hands that were pressing on her brother’s head.

“I sure did! One Fire Dragon King roar and then those ships were all sailing!” Natsu exclaims.

“And how many of those ships ended up catching on fire too?” Lucy asks sternly.

Natsu scratches the back of his head as a bead of sweat drips down his forehead.

“You’ll find out when Gramps yells at me about the bill he’s gonna get.” Natsu says.

Lucy rolls her eyes then smiles at him. Then she shivered and rubbed her arms as a chilling gale blew by the house.

“The winds pushing away the blizzard from yesterday have been freezing!” Happy exclaims before his teeth chatter as he holds himself.

“Yeah it’s been really cold here without you dad.” Igneel says while hugging himself.

“Hey! Daddy’s not the only one who can make fire! I can help warm you up Iggy!” Nashi says.

“Oh yeah, Nashi uses starfire magic. Why didn’t we just use her magic to warm up in here?” Happy asks.

Nashi holds her hands out in front of her brother and then sparkling flames come shooting up from her palms and one of them catches on the sleeve of Igneel’s sweater making him scream and flail his arm before Natsu sucked up the fire.

“Because she’s only allowed to use it when Natsu’s here so the house doesn’t burn down.” Lucy reminds him.

Nashi pouted and Natsu pulled her into a hug.

“Don’t be down kiddo, you’ll get better at controlling it with practice, that’s how I learned. Besides, if you pout then Santa won’t give you any presents.” He reminds her and she immediately stopped pouting and gave Natsu her biggest smile.

She squeals in delight as Natsu stands up and holds her over his head by holding her waist with his hands before laying her down over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes while she laughed.

“How about you help me make a fire in the fireplace to warm up your mom, Igneel and Happy?” Natsu suggests.

“That sounds fun!” Nashi cheers.

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

“Oh this feels so much better!” Happy purrs as he curls up on Igneel’s lap by the fireplace.

“Great job Natsu.” Lucy says and lays her head against Natsu’s shoulder as they sat close together.

“Anything to make you happy Lucy.” He says before kissing the top of her head.

“Hey dad, who taught you fire magic?” Igneel asks.

“I’ve told ya before. Your grandpa Igneel. The dragon you’re named after.” Natsu says and ruffles his hair.

“Wait grandpa Igneel was a dragon!?” Nashi exclaims.

“Yeah he was. Natsu didn’t you tell them that?” Lucy asks.

“I thought so but maybe I forgot to mention that part?” Natsu wonders.

“Wait so grandpa Igneel was really a killer dragon?” Igneel asks.

“Whoa hey, that’s my dad you’re talkin’ about he was no killer. He was a good dragon and he taught me how to read and write and use magic.” Natsu explains.

“Yeah but he also killed a bunch of other dragons and people didn’t he? That’s how he became the Dragon King?” Nashi asks.

“Where’d you here that crap?” Natsu asks her.

“She may have tagged along with me and Levy to the library when she was doing research on dragons earlier this month…” Lucy admits.

“Someone wrote a book about Igneel?” Natsu asks.

“Not about him specifically but notable dragons like him.” Lucy explains.

“Like that one dragon Zirconis that Levy said made mommy naked!” Nashi says.

“Of course that’s the part she remembers.” Lucy grumbles.

“And then it tried to eat her!” Nashi exclaims.

“Daddy how were you able to avoid getting naked and eaten by Igneel?” Igneel asks.

“I was never naked, I had pants! And I never had to avoid being eaten because Igneel never wanted to eat me in the first place!” Natsu answers.

“But he was a dragon, and according to all of those books Levy found, dragons eat people!” Nashi says.

“Well not all of them, or else myself, your uncle Gajeel, aunt Wendy, and Sting and Rogue wouldn’t be here right now.” Natsu says.

“How do you know they weren’t just fattening you up to eat you later?” Igneel asks.

“Because Igneel would never do that, he cared about me! He even had your great-grandma Anna make me this scarf for me out of his scales.” Natsu explains and pulls his scarf looser to show his kids the scales.

“Wait those are dragon scales? Dad really was raised by a dragon Nashi!” Igneel exclaims.

“Oh no what if he comes and eats us?” Nashi asks and hugs her brother in fear.

“He’s not gonna come and eat ya.” Natsu says sternly.

“Even if he wanted to he couldn’t. He died years before you two were born, protecting your mom and the rest of the guild from Acnologia.” Natsu says and stares at the fire.

Lucy reached forward and held his hand to comfort him and Natsu squeezed it in response.

“Mom does that mean you met Igneel?” Nashi asks.

“Well I saw him fighting but I never got the chance to talk to him before Acnologia struck him down.” Lucy says.

“I wish I could’ve introduced you to him Luce. He would’ve loved you.” Natsu says and smiles at her.

“He probably would have just confused me with Anna.” Lucy guesses.

“Did he want to eat Anna too?” Nashi asks.

“What no never! He was friends with Anna, she used to be a teacher for me, Sting, Rogue, Wendy and Gajeel.” Natsu explains.

“Igneel was a good dragon, he’d never eat anyone. I don’t know why you kids are on about that.” Natsu says.

“Because that’s what the books say daddy, and mommy and aunt Levy say that books are always right!” Nashi says.

“Oh so it’s you and Levy’s fault that our kids think Igneel was a killer?” Natsu asks Lucy.

“Hey don’t blame me I didn’t write the books!” Lucy retorts.

“Come on Iggy let’s go up to mommy’s writing room, I’ll read you the books!” Nashi says.

“Okay!” Igneel agrees and follows his big sister up the stairs.

Lucy smiles as the two of them ran up the stairs to her study before turning back to her husband who seemed sad.

“Natsu don’t be so worried. They’re kids, they’ll believe anything they read or hear is the truth.” Lucy explains.

“Then why won’t they believe me when I tell them the truth about Igneel?” Natsu asks.

“I don’t know.” Lucy says.

“I don’t want my kids growing up thinking that Igneel was some sort of terrifying monster when he wasn’t.” Natsu says.

“I’m sure they won’t. They’ll believe you one day.” Lucy says.

“How do you know that? It’s not like they can meet Igneel to see for themselves.” Natsu says and sighs.

Lucy got a thoughtful look on her face and rubbed one of the scales on Natsu’s scarf.

“But it’s not like I can bring him back to life, as awesome as it would be for him to spend Christmas with us.” Natsu says.

“So let’s just enjoy the Holiday as a family.” Natsu says and kisses the top of her head.

“Yeah, a night together as a family is always a good way to spend the Holiday.” Lucy says as she discreetly plucks a scale from the scarf and pockets it for later.

-----------

Later that night while the kids were fast asleep, Lucy came into their room and gently whispered to them to wake them up.

“Mommy why are you waking us up?” Nashi asks with a small yawn.

“Is it Christmas morning already?” Igneel asks and rubs his eye.

“Not yet. But I want you guys to come outside with me and aunt Wendy. We have a surprise for you and your father.” Lucy says.

After rallying her kids and her husband to get them to come outside they came to find Wendy and Carla outside of a huge fire in their yard.

“What are the two of you doing here?” Natsu asks, rubbing his eye.

“We’re here to use a special spell that Wendy knows how to do, to bring someone here for the Holiday’s.” Carla says.

“Who are you trying to bring home?” Nashi asks.

“You’ll see Nashi.” Lucy says.

Natsu gives her a curious look then watches as Wendy throws something small and white into the fire and then kneels in the snow with her hands pressed together and a magic circle begins to glow underneath her.

Suddenly, the flames shoot high into the sky and they hear a dragon’s roar.

“What was that?” Igneel asks timidly and shuffles closer to his sister.

A giant, red scaly arm comes out of the flames and smacks down in the snow. Natsu’s eyes widened.

“No way is that…” He stammers.

The rest of the beast emerges from the flames and lets out a loud roar.

“Igneel…” Natsu whispers as tears form in his eyes.

The kids and Happy scream and both of them run to hide behind Lucy.

“Mommy aunt Wendy summoned the killer dragon!” Nashi wails.

“Tell daddy to kill it before it eats us all!” Igneel screams.

“He’s not going to eat us.” Lucy tells her kids.

“I asked Wendy to use a special spell that uses just one of his dragon scales to bring him back for one night so that you kids can meet him and see that he’s not the monster you read about in those books.” Lucy explains and waves Wendy off as she leaves with Carla.

Natsu noticed the hole in his scarf and smiled before coming over to his wife, wrapping his arms around her waist and planting a passionate kiss on her lips.

“Thank you Lucy. This is the best Christmas gift I’ve ever gotten.” Natsu says before kissing her deeply again.

“Well are you going to spend some time with your old man or are you just going to kiss your mate all night?” Igneel the dragon chuckles.

“If I had it my way I’d do both.” Natsu says before going over to Igneel.

“Dad be careful!” Nashi calls to him.

“Relax Nashi, he’s not going to eat your father.” Lucy reassures her.

“So you took my advice and looked forward to the future.” Igneel says looking from Natsu to his family.

“I did dad, this is my family.” Natsu says and gestures to them.

“I know son. I’ve been watching over you, and seeing you grow stronger and find love made me so happy.” Igneel says.

“And now they can all finally meet you!” Natsu exclaims happily.

“Kids come on over and meet your grandpa!”

Natsu holds out his arms to his kids who were still hiding behind Lucy. She coaxes them out and gently nudges them forward towards Natsu and Igneel. They timidly walked forward to stand in front of the dragon and Igneel tilted his head and looked at them curiously.

“Dad, these are my kids, Nashi and Igneel. Kids this is your grandpa Igneel.” Natsu introduces.

Igneel exhaled a hot breath onto their faces and both of the kids gasped then giggled.

“That tickled my nose!” Nashi says then sneezes and a small fireball came out of her mouth.

“Your daughter takes after you I see.” Igneel chuckles. “That takes me back to when you use to sneeze up fireballs.” He reminds Natsu.

“Yeah, those were the days.” Natsu says.

“I take it you two have never seen a dragon before?” Igneel asks the kids and they shake their heads no.

“Well now what do you think of your grandfather?” He asks them.

“I still think you’re kinda scary-looking, but you’re also a lot nicer than I thought you were!” Nashi says and gently reaches out to rub his nose.

Igneel chuckled and gently bit the back of Nashi’s coat and lifted her up into the air. He tossed her and she laughed as she went flying into the air while Lucy watched with worry.

“Be careful!” Lucy warns before Igneel catches her again and sets her down on the ground.

“Do me next grandpa!” Her son requests.

Igneel heeds his request and does the same to his grandson.

“You have the same laugh as your father.” Igneel notices.

“You even look at lot like him too. The only difference is that your hair is a different color. I’m assuming he gets that from you.” Igneel says and looks at Lucy.

She and Happy walked forward towards Igneel and Natsu wrapped an arm around her waist while Happy hung onto his shoulder.

“Igneel, this is my wife Lucy and my best pal Happy. Lucy, Happy, this is my dad Igneel.” Natsu introduces.

“Hello Igneel, it’s nice to meet you.” Lucy says.

“Aye Sir!” Happy says.

“Hello talking blue cat, I always found you very strange.” Igneel says and Happy looks offended.

“And Lucy, you resemble your ancestor Anna very much. No wonder Natsu ended up falling for you. He did like Anna a lot when she was his teacher.” Igneel laughs.

“First Gajeel now you, what the hell does that mean?” Natsu asks.

Igneel sighs and looks at Lucy.

“How he somehow managed to realize his love for you is something short of a miracle.” Igneel says and Lucy laughs while Natsu looks offended.

“But when my spirit resided inside of Natsu I felt his feelings for you change as I watched your relationship grow. I knew that if any woman was ever going to have his heart that it would be you, and it looks like I was right.” Igneel says.

“So you like her dad?” Natsu asks.

"I think she's great Natsu. She’s beautiful, smart, and at this point she probably knows you better than you know yourself." Igneel says and grins.

“I love her more than anything dad. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve her, and I don’t think I could ever live without her.” Natsu says and kisses the top of her head.

“If Igneel’s gonna be here for the whole night, does that mean we’re gonna stay up all night to celebrate Christmas with him?” Happy asks.

“You bet we are!” Natsu says.

“Yay!” The kids cheer.

“What should we do first?” Lucy asks.

“Well, the skies seem pretty clear tonight…” Igneel says and looks up in the sky before looking at his grandkids.

“Do you kids want to know what it’s like to ride a dragon?” He asks and their faces light up in excitement.

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

“Everyone hang on!” Igneel calls to them as he swoops up into the sky over the forest.

Natsu, and his son hung onto Igneel’s back while Lucy and Nashi wrapped their arms around Natsu’s waist and held on tight. Happy hung onto Natsu’s shoulder for dear life until Igneel straightened out and he could relax.

Nashi and Igneel looked amazed by the view of the sky.

Natsu looked over his shoulder to see Lucy’s reaction but she still had her face buried in his scarf while clinging to him for dear life.

“Relax Luce, and look at the stars.” Natsu tells her.

He lifts her chin up and she gasps as she sees all of the stars sparkling all around them.

“It’s so beautiful from up here.” She says.

“Whoa Nashi look you can touch a cloud!” Igneel says and reaches out with his hand to touch a faint cloud wisp.

“Why don’t you try to catch that one up there Iggy?” Natsu suggests and tosses his son up into the air before catching him again.

Together they flew across Hargeon bay and then mountains. And then they flew across Magnolia, creating quite a stir for the residents that were still awake, thinking that this dragon sighting must be some sort of Christmas miracle, which it was.

Back at home they played games until the kids were tired, and then Lucy and Happy put them to bed so that Natsu could have some time alone with his dad before the sun rose.

When Natsu came back after Igneel was gone there were tears streaming down his cheeks. Lucy hugged him and he buried his face in her neck and held her waist.

“What did he say to you before the spell wore off?” Lucy asks.

“He said that he’s so happy that he could spend a night with his family. He loves you, Happy and the kids Lucy, and he’s gonna watch over us for the rest of our lives because seeing us together is what heaven is for him. Being able to spend Christmas Eve with us as a family made him the happiest he’s ever been and it made me so happy too that he could be with us again even if it was just for one night. I always wanted him to meet you all, and being able to have him do that was the best way to spend Christmas, thank you so much for getting Wendy to bring him back so he could meet the family I was able to have because of him.” Natsu sniffles.

“Merry Christmas Natsu. I love you.” Lucy says softly while she teared up.

“Merry Christmas Luce, I love you too.” He says before planting a wet kiss on his wife’s lips.

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

A/N: Merry Christmas to all of my followers who celebrate! And to those who don’t Happy Holidays! And don’t forget to leave a comment if you enjoyed this fic!

#nalu #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #nashi dragneel #igneel dragneel #nalu child #nalu family #fairy tail #igneel #ft loke #Wendy Marvell #dragneel family

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toonstarterz · 4 years

Text

BECAUSE I’M NOT POPULAR, I’LL READ WATAMOTE: CHAPTER #167

Hey, I’m not dead!

Yeah, sorry that took a while. Had a lot of real-life shit to work through, honestly. In any case, I finally sat my butt down to really crack down on yet another fun-tastical chapter. Tomoko’s actually doing what a lot of quasi-incel degenerates are afraid to do in high school and is taking an actual stab at self-improvement. Will karma rear its ugly head, or is the series now beyond that point?

Chapter 167: Because I’m Not Popular, I’ll Spend My Time Wisely unlike me

This is a really pretty shot and...that’s about it. Real pretty.

Oh dear! The friendship disease has disrupted Tomoko’s gremlin-like body clock and has her waking up early like a healthy human being!

Reminds of that one Gintama episode. You know, that one with Kagura and the sick kid and you don’t care, do you?

I know Japan prides itself on its cheap, quality goods, but Tomoko is a real penny-pincher, eh? Well, she’s a Gen Zer, so I can’t complain.

Not sure if this makes me sound like a perv or whatever, but hot damn, the detail on this model is stupidly good. I mean, just look at the patterning on that bra. You can really tell when Ikko’s really getting into the art.

They’re really milking the armpit fetish, aren’t they?

Tomoko...sweetie...my girl...

You don’t even have a dick. I mean, sure, you could find it fascinating from a purely educational, not-applicable-to-you perspective. And yeah, I suppose it could be useful if you were to start a sexual relationship with a noncanonical male. But to be honest, I can’t help but take it as more signs of your gender dysphoria here.

I mean, hey, whatever floats your boat.

Well, they say kids learn more about practical knowledge out in the real world than in school, don’t they?

Then again, coughgoogleitcough.

I always thought Tomoko was just having some kind of psychosomatic experience when she talks about being de-energized from a lack of sexual stimulation.

Now I’m inches from calling that shit an actual, physiological withdrawal.

Ah, the good ol’ days. Back when future prospects felt like a lifetime away and you could spend days on end dicking around, lamenting the need to get serious, and disregarding your resolve right after because you secretly didn’t really care.

...I gotta stop projecting.

Despite Tomoko proving time and again that she can be a crass-hole with a negative outlook on life, it’s when she does childish things like laying your head on your arm when studying and cuddling her plushies that her innocent side pops up and you realize that Tomoko’s a legitimate cutie.

Fake-smoking? Tomoko, stop! If you keep this up, you’ll turn from a deconstruction of a cute, moe girl to becoming an actual cute, moe girl.

I only just noticed that Tomoko’s wearing a “happy” shirt. Remember when she was sporting the “alone” shirt back in year one? Even her clothes get character development.

Oh, shit. Your girl Yuu-chan talking this whole cram school thing seriously even though she’s at a disadvantage. You see, this is why Yuu is literally the best. Despite being at the “top” of the school clique food chain, she has not once ever felt like “bottomfeeders” like Tomoko and Komi were below her in any way. Sure, she knows they’re weirdos, but she makes those acknowledgments without judgement, and all while putting herself on the same leveling field. She doesn’t love them ironically–she loves them sincerely, and that’s why Yuu is awesome.

Sorry if this turned into a ramble, but Yuu only gets like, one panel of dialogue nowadays and I wanted to make the most of it.

Tomoko be raising that “phone-call” flag like a motherfucking chad.

...

Oh, sorry. I saw Yuri with her hair down and lost track of time.

...

Damn, Yuri’s pretty.

Black leggings at home? That’s exactly the kind of conservative attire Yuri would wear and only Yuri could look amazing in. Seriously, If Ikko hadn’t become a manga artist, she would have made a damn fine fashion designer.

And Tomoko be crushing that “home-visit” flag like a motherfucking chode.

I could make a pretty tasteless joke about how “haha, Yuri will never look at you like you’re trash like she does at Tomoko,” but,

a. it’s just the angle of the smartphone like Yuri said, and

b. you’d probably prefer to get denied like that, wouldn’t you?

I can’t help but wonder if Tomoko realizes just how homoerotic she sounds. Like, does she have any inclination that her borderline-sexual harassment jokes could easily be misconstrued as flirting? Sure, she might be using the old excuse that “we’re both girls, so it’s fine right?”, but given that Tomoko at least knows about LGBTQ+, you’d think it would have at least crossed her mind.

Or maybe, on a sadder note, Tomoko doesn’t see it as flirting because she really does have zero faith in her own attractiveness...

There is no heterosexual reason for this exchange whatsoever.

Alright, so I’m a dude, so...hell do I know. But do girls typically not wear bras when just lounging around the house? I know Tomoko is the kind to just wear tank tops if she can help it, but I always thought that was a characterization unique to her, and that other girls wear bras for the comfort and support like any other undergarment. I mean, sure, Yuri’s kind of reserved, but I wouldn’t think wearing a bra at home would be considered an oddity, yeah? I ask this out of genuine curiosity, but I’ll stop before it gets too creepy.

Side note, you can officially tell when Yuri gets pissed by her nose crinkles.

I could give a long, analytical spiel about why Yuri didn’t give Tomoko a straight answer and speculate on what she was doing, but I eventually realized the answer was actually really simple:

It didn’t fucking matter to the story.

The last time Tomoko had one of these “I know!” moments, she ended up trimming her pubes on a class trip. But surely Tomoko’s character growth wouldn’t allow something like that to happen again, would it not? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Adorbs.

Can’t fight awkward with awkward, can you?

Tomoko, what are you playing at? You just said that video chatting was erotic and tried to get Yuri to lewd herself for you. And now you were planning to appear on-screen totally naked and you somehow don’t see any sexual implications for this at all? Finding it funny would be an elementary schooler’s mentality. If you seriously have no confidence in your sexuality, then sweetheart, you need some help.

You ever notice that Tomoko can lie through her teeth when trying to screw with people, but when lying to be nice, it sounds so phony? I think that says a lot about the kind of person she is.

Ya’ll knew I was gonna add this panel, didn’t you?

I was never one to go crazy about blushing anime girls ‘cause to me, it always felt like it stemmed from some sadistic desire to see girls look uncomfortable. So while I can’t get behind it for reasons like that, I can admit that Yuri’s blush is fucking precious and I think that’s because I love seeing her so emotionally transparent for once. It feels rare, raw and well-earned after all this time, so yeah. A++

Oh, Tomoko, if only you knew that skill often has nothing to do with it. Yuri’s not embarrassed because she sucks at humming, but because you saw a side of her that she only lets out in private. Trying to reassure her is a good move, but putting the girl on blast like that is not going to end well.

I felt like the vibration alone would’ve left a huge-ass crack on Yuri’s phone screen. This whole moment is like eleven tiers of funny because even though Tomoko is probably miles away, the impact of Yuri’s punch still jostles her. It also helps that we can visibly see Yuri’s fist come down mere millimeters from Tomoko’s mug.

There is no escaping her wrath, Tomoko.

I feel you, girl. For me, nothing beats a good ol’ burger and fries after a hard day of studying.

Careful there, Tomoko. If there’s one thing that studying has taught me (other than I hate it), it’s that you could get serious burn out if you go all-out on the first day, especially if you’re typically not a regular studier. Always make sure to get dem breaks in.

That sounds like the kind of line you’d see in a mainstream shounen action manga like [ ]. I don’t even have a direct reference here, so feel free to fill in the blank.

Hey, with Tomoko’s luck, I was expecting karma to hit her harder than Truck-kun in an isekai anime, so I consider this a small loss.

Man, remember when we were young and had ambitions as high as the sky, and we all wanted to change the world by being firefighters, astronauts, idols, and presidents?

Kind of sucks that “financial stability” has become our goal in life as we enter adulthood. Perhaps that’s just the mindset creative-types like Tomoko have towards the STEM industry when it’s hard to see what makes that world so personally fulfilling.

Oops, my opinions are starting to seep in, so let's move on.

Nooo, don’t do it, Nico Tanigawa Tomoko! Don’t sell out your passions for financial security even though it’s a totally viable career decision! How else are we going to validate the pursuit of our artistic dreams?

How in the hell is Tomoko balancing that drink? I’m willing to let it pass for rule of cute, but I don’t care how secure that cup is. One wrong move and those practice sheets are done for.

Jesus Christ, Nemo is on some otherworldly dimension of cute right here.

I don’t even think Tomoko is trying to one-up her or anything. This is already the most effort she’s given to study in a single instance, so I think she genuinely just wants to share this personal accomplishment.

You know, while it’s already been established that Tomoko and Nemo have different tastes in anime, that doesn’t necessarily mean they wouldn’t watch the same show, right? Just for different reasons. While Nemo would watch her cute slice-of-life series earnestly, Tomoko would probably watch them ironically MST3K-style. In any case, it’s a good way for them to find some common ground.

Bruh, Nemo must be over the fucking moon for this opportunity. Think about it: when was the last time she’s had someone to watch anime with her? After concealing her power level for so long, this could be the first time Nemo has had a fellow anime fan to geek out over a series with. And not just discussing it afterward, but actually reacting to a live episode together.

Nemo may give Tomoko all kinds of shit, but this is actually what she wanted all along, wasn’t it?

Boy, Tomoko sure gets pretty demanding when she’s sleep-deprived, huh? I’d hate to see how loose her inhibitions get when she’s stark-raving drunk.

Is this referencing the Quintessential Quintuplets anime? I don’t know anything about it other than that’s a kickass title.

Hey now, Tomoko, beggars can’t be choosers. Let Nemo give you the play-by-play at her own pace. She’s even acknowledging that you hate the source magazine without a hint of judgment. She’s gonna go places.

At first, I thought all this recent armpit content was just an incidental joke. Then I thought it was the mangaka slyly inserting their fetish into the series. Then I realized the series turned the joke on its head and made it a meta-reference about their very thing their readers were accusing them of.

Well played.

You ain’t slick with that leg service, Nino Tanigawa. Just sayin’.

Seriously though, I love the dynamic going on in this conversation. Tomoko and Nemo are approaching the discussion from different outlooks, the former looking at it from a degenerate’s perspective and the latter looking at it more optimistically. But even so, they’re not trying to “get the upper hand” like they might've done before. They’re simply having a totally organic talk about what they do and don’t like about the series, while still recognizing each other’s personal preferences. For once, it’s completely devoid of passive aggressiveness and it really shows how earnest their friendship has become.

At some point, I think Tomoko’s consumed so much near-pornographic content that pretty much all anime, manga, VNs, etc. looks like the same hentai to her.

Every fiber of my being says that this is a reference to Komi-san Can’t Communicate, but it could just as well be the mangaka shooting themselves in the foot for a good joke. In any case, I do like how they point out shy, socially awkward girls is a rising trend that borders on romanticizing communication problems.

Does that make Watamote a hipster manga since it did the whole “social anxiety girl” shtick before it was cool?

I wanted to make a pretentious joke about how basic that anime sounds and how I’m so above a show that panders to the masses, but even I like junk food, so I’ll spare you the hypocritical humor.

If Ucchi caught a glimpse of this, she’d probably explode right on the spot.

I spent a good five minutes trying to decipher how Tomoko’s sleeping expression could be seen as “happy”, and I realized that it’s not that she looks happy. It’s that she doesn’t look unhappy. I’d imagine that those plagued by anxiety and stress have it evident on their face when they sleep, so the fact that Tomoko fell asleep in relative bliss must mean she’s had a pretty satisfying day. To top it all off, this is one of the few times someone–and Nemo of all people–has seen Tomoko in all her vulnerability.

And you know what? Nothing bad happened. No punchline undermining the moment, no sarcastic quip, no embarrassment. Just genuine sweetness and it really speaks to the series’ faith in its heartwarming moments.

As a final note, I just wanted to thank everyone again for their patience. I’ve been trying to put a fresh spin on this, making it a little more comedic since its honestly getting harder to “analyze” without constantly repeating myself. It’s a lot of fun, and I hope you guys enjoy it for what it is.

#watamote #watamote review #chapter 167 #no matter how i look at it it's you guys' fault i'm not popular!#tomoko kuroki #yuu naruse #yuri tamura #hina nemoto #review

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homenum-revelio-hq · 4 years

Photo

Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Bella!

You have been accepted for the role of ARCHIE MACMILLAN, with the faceclaim change of Taron Egerton! We really enjoyed how much detail you built for his foundations as a person, and how that feeds into the dichotomy of his "Archibald Role" with who Archie actually is - a mystery that we're eager to discover alongside him! We're so excited to see both "versions" of him on the dash!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME: Hi y’all, it’s me, Bella. she/hers/her.

AGE: 23.

TIMEZONE: PST.

ACTIVITY LEVEL: Right now, especially because I’m home all of the time, I have basically all the time in the world to do replies.

ANYTHING ELSE: N/A

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Archibald Macmillan.

AGE: 27 (January 16, 1955).

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cis-male, he/him/his, homosexual. Although he’s closeted, and would most likely never admit what his true feelings were to the public, Archie has known since he was twelve years old that he was not like the other boys in his dorm. No, he didn’t gawk at Narcissa Black, or find himself in awe of her beauty. Instead, he found himself admiring Lucius. And, while anyone who believes he’d say that Lucius Malfoy was his first crush out loud was clearly mad, Archie wasn’t ashamed of the fact that he thought men were attractive. After all, if he hadn’t had such intense restrictions put on him, Archie knows he wouldn’t be as quiet about his feelings.

BLOOD STATUS: Pure-blood.

HOUSE ALUMNI: Slytherin.

ANY CHANGES: If Taron Egerton is still alright, I’d love to use him for Archibald.

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

+ flirtatious: Archie does, in fact, flirt with everything that breathes. He enjoys the way it makes people smile; adds a twinkle in their eye. But he also likes the fact that it catches men in suits off guard, sends them running home to their wives to remember what it feels like to be straight. However, if he’s flirtatious with people, he’s also flirtatious in life. Archie cannot sit still. He always must be trying something new, learning about the world, finding his place in it all. The entire world, Muggle now too, is his oyster, and Archie wants to live in it. + independent: While he grew up in the lap of luxury, surrounded by anything a young boy could’ve wanted, somehow, Archie gained a sense of independence. There’s nothing he wouldn’t give up in this world, except maybe Isla as a friend, to have his independence. Archie knows what he wants; who he is. Even if he can’t exactly show his entire personality to the world, even if he can’t strut down the streets, hand in hand with another man, Archibald Macmillan was not afraid to be himself. He took his life into his own hands, and he will continue to do so. He’s proud of that fact. + sincere: There are times Archie does not come across as such, but he is a genuine person. To those he loves, especially, to the Isla’s and the Hestia’s of the world, he speaks with gentleness and with a desire to help. While he can’t truly even help himself these days, there’s a part of him that does really believe in a world that might be better for all. It comes across in his relationships with his wife and those closest to him the most, but it is there. In fact, he assumes he gets it from his mother, who, although not exactly the kindest, also spoke in a way that showed she cared. Archie has always been quite good at showing his true feelings, sometimes to the point where they are so deeply written on his face that they can get him into trouble.

- temperamental: It is an easy feat to get Archie’s temper to show. Although he’s learned to control it better over the years, his temper isn’t the only part of his personality that acts up. Sometimes, Archie’s sadness becomes temperamental. It spills over sometimes randomly, filling the cracks of his usual happy exterior. While Archie pretends to be fine, his mask often-times slips. Often, he writes it off as a joke, but his heart is cracking and he doesn’t quite know how to fill in those cracks properly. - impulsive: Archie has always been abrupt. When it’s come to making important decisions, well, someone else has always made them. As such, Archie never had the experience; never quite knew what to do when offered a choice. He always went with his gut, often getting into trouble with his pure-blood peers. Somehow, this personality worked even worse in the Order, as it put him at odds with half the population. After all, his decision to join had been quite impulsive in the first place. How does he explain a decision his gut just said he must choose? - deceptive: The world has always been Archie’s oyster, but only so long as he plays a role. He’s been playing Archibald Macmillan his whole life, and he’s quite good at it if he does say so himself. However, this role has taken a toll on his true personality. He feels like he’s never truly grown up; never truly figured out who he is. Archibald Macmillan is so sure of himself, so proud. And yet, Archie isn’t so sure he even knows what his favorite food is. There’s a lot of melancholy in his deception, but more importantly, there’s a lot of hate. He looks in the mirror and he sees a ghost.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY:

Duty. That is what family had always meant to the Macmillans. Archie grew up in a family that didn’t quite understand the concept of being family. They were all at arms length. A young Archibald knew the faces of the house elves better than he knew the face of his own mother. As he grew up, of course, that changed. He and his mother created a bond that, despite all odds, felt soft, especially when she learned just how gifted he was at learning. The young boy picked up spells that neither she nor her husband could have dreamed of doing, let alone doing it wandless. Sure, they were good at the necessary hex or charm, but the Macmillans had never thought of what might happen if there was trouble afoot. They were far too comfortable, what with all their money in the security business, and the other wizards they could hire to get the jobs necessary done. His father was the supplier of the so-called traps in Gringotts, and Archie grew up seeing trolls in their dungeon. Literally. They occasionally would get stowed downstairs until they were needed delivery at the bank. His father always made a new creature a lesson, although a part of him always felt bad practicing on the creatures. After all, they might be ugly, but their hearts still beat. His parents’ attitudes, though, truly flipped on a galleon when they found their young boy sorted into Slytherin, a feat that none of them could’ve seen coming. His mother swore he’d be Hufflepuff after catching him crying over one of the dragons he’d had to put a stun curse on when he was younger. His father thought it’d be Ravenclaw because he was always reading (what else their library was for, Archie would never know). Of course, Archie felt right in the house. Full of people who cared as equally about the world, but in a different way than those passionate, fool-hardy Gryffindors (although they were a fun time, especially Johnston Wood…). Archie and his peers quickly became like family. It was there, although they had known each other long before, that he and Isla became friends. No, not friends. They’d always been more than that, hadn’t they? People, it seemed, did not like a pure-blooded woman who wasn’t swooning over a white dress and a boy a year older. Funnily enough, they didn’t like a pure-blooded man who was swooning over that very same white dress and boy a year older (alright so it was Lucius Malfoy, sue him, he’d envied the hair and also wished the man would show up at the Ganymedes club to this day). They were kindred spirits that way. The two outcasts, both sticking up for one another, never leaving the other’s side. They were more than friends, yes, but where the outside world saw an obvious romantic relationship budding, the two friends became family. Isla, more so than even his parents. She knows his secrets, his desires, his happinesses. He supposed, when they got married, that duty might not be all that bad if he were to be married to someone who, he could genuinely say, was his best friend. To this day, Isla is the only person on the planet whom Archie trusts with his life (and who he would give up his life to). While their marriage is one of convenience, thank Godric, he does know that his duty isn’t over. And, as his mother sends more and more owl’s to write about children he wonders if either of them are ready for such a task. After all, it’s not just starting a family; not just finding an heir to the Macmillan fortune. No, it’s his duty. And Archie was taught that family must be as such.

OCCUPATION:

Junior Ministry Liaison to Gringotts Wizarding Bank. The mouthful of a title was his ticket to the top of the Ministry. Archie doesn’t want to be the Minister or anything quite so in the public eye. No, as much as he loves attention, he doesn’t want a job quite so constraining. His dream position is far more dangerous and romantic. Being a curse-breaker meant trips all around the world, to places full of treasures, and he wasn’t talking about galleons or sickles. No, Archibald Macmillan wanted to see the world. Always had. While he didn’t mind his job now, he did despise the restraints put upon him. One day, hopefully soon, he might be able to break free, but until that day it’s constant security meetings with the goblins. At least the money keeps the doors at Ganymedes wide open.

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER:

While Archie wouldn’t consider himself a man of the best moral principles, he does like the ideas that the Order represents. A world where people are allowed to be themselves? Well, that sounded like a world where he’d want to live in. While he wasn’t particularly convinced that muggleborns were all quite as sophisticated as the pure-bloods he often associates with, Archie doesn’t see why they couldn’t become just as sophisticated. After all, they were equally as smart. People like Mary MacDonald proved that just because you didn’t grow up pure-blood, didn’t mean you weren’t just as snake-like as his fellow Slytherins.   Does Archie particularly want to fight? No. In his mind, it would be much better if they could all just realize that people were going to be people and allow everyone to live their lives in peace. Isla was the one who’d convinced him of the importance of the group; the one who had whispered sweet talk in his ear. The thought of angering their society, joining a cause that was practically dripping in opposites from the world they grew up in. Well it was scandalous was it not? Archibald does love the rebellious nature with which he was somehow granted, and the Order held that sense of adventure that pure-blood life did not.    Then again, he knows that his thinking is generally naive. Archie hasn’t lived a life with much struggle written into it. Even his hidden sexuality couldn’t be compared to the kind of struggle muggleborns and halfbloods were facing these days. And, with the recent death of Muggles? Archie is starting to realize that his own opinions might not be important (even if his own selfishness, often wins out). However, with the recent dismissal of Ryland Greengrass’ disappearance, well, he’s not entirely sure he can trust all of the members of the Order. Sure, their ideals were right, but if they didn’t truly stand for all, how could they stand for some?

SURVIVAL:

Archie doesn’t think about survival. He’s never had to think about survival. When your whole life has already been planned for you, thoughts of where you would go after Hogwarts, who you would marry, and what side of the war you would fight on, weren’t often on your mind. He lived, and continues to live, a life of luxury, and so long as he can keep his Ganymedes trips and dalliance with the Order a secret, Archibald knows that he can continue that life. Of course, he recognizes there will come a day when the Order will ruin the life he knows. Isla and himself will have to choose. He doesn’t believe he’s ready to give up all he’s ever known. After all, all he’s ever had to do to survive is be alive. How can he survive if it’s more than that?

RELATIONSHIPS:

- isla selwyn-macmillan: Isla is his whole world. Archie has never felt like he owed anyone anything before, but he does owe Isla his freedom. He supposes that it’s a two way street. Neither could have been free without the other. But he didn’t mind that he wasn’t flying entirely solo. Life with Isla is not boring, although it is different than he would like. However, he’s luckier than most, and Isla’s agreeable to his proposal was part of that fact. He’ll never forget it.  - branwen yaxley: Well, a part of him is only slightly jealous that Yaxley can live the life that he cannot. Branwen isn’t necessarily out and free, no one in their position was free, but he could still remember her confession in her fifth year. He can still remember the words he was too afraid to speak out loud. The jealousy wasn’t quite that after all. It was awe, and a bit of panic. They ran in the same circles, after all. What would happen if Branwen were to find him somewhere she shouldn’t? - emma vanity: Archie doesn’t feel responsible for people often, but Emma Vanity has always stuck out to him. There was something so innocent in her eyes; something that made him feel badly for the fact that she’s gotten caught up in this war. He hopes that he doesn’t come on too strong, but he hopes to be a big brother of sorts to her; someone she can turn to. He would have protected her from this war, if he had been given the chance. - ryland greengrass: While Archie can sense Ryland doesn’t quite like him (why he isn’t particularly certain), there’s a large part of him that feels badly for the man. The Order abandoned him, plain and simple. He wonders if Ryland knows that he was looking for him; trying his best to send house-elves where he couldn’t go, trying to find him. Archie tried, subtly of course, to ask the Order for help. But, none came. He can’t imagine what Ryland’s been through, and he feels badly for him. - ainsley abbott: Ainsley annoys Archie to no end. Her scientific nature seems to keep her from emotion, which is just frankly disturbing in Archie’s not-so-humble opinion. However, they did share one trait in common: curiosity. Sometimes he wonders if she might be able to help him become a curse-breaker. After all, she seems to know a whole lot about the world that he feels like he’s missing. If he must, he’ll suffer through her abysmal personality to get what he needs. - james potter: Archibald Macmillan adores James Potter. The care-free attitude, but the deep care for his peers, well it’s all very attractive isn’t it? On top of that, James looks out for his own; looks out for all of the people in the Order, not just those who seem to be most affected by this war. Alright, so maybe he’s got a small crush, but that’s not blinding him to the fact that James is a very good leader. He appreciates that someone like Potter is on his side.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS: I always ship my characters with chemistry and so at this point I don’t really have any ships or anti-ships. I think it will be interesting to see how he plays with other pure-blood men, though, and find if there’s anything that might come from those relationships. I’d really like to see Archie truly and totally fall in love with someone, as he is a bit of a romantic even if he doesn’t like to admit that about himself.

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?:

Archie believes he can change the world. Not necessarily with his own two hands, although they are quite skilled. Along with Isla, Archie feels rather invisible. This bit of bias lies in Isla’s ability to successfully maneuver through any situation given to his wife. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t equally proud and jealous of his wife’s ease of which she moves through life, although it has saved his arse in more than one situation. Since she is able to constantly keep her head throughout any situation, Archie has no fears about their being safe, as long as Isla’s around.

That being said, the Selwyn-Macmillans are also incredibly reliant on their wealth. Archie, in particular, knows that he wouldn’t be able to survive without the luxuries house elves, mansions, and private ocean-side second homes bring. In fact, a large part of his life is focused on making more money. Curse-breakers, although a fun job prospect, also make double the amount he’s currently making at the Ministry (and that’s not including the bonuses). He’s often motivated by coin, especially the thought of no longer having any to spend. Not only will he feel as though he’s let down Isla, but he’s let himself down. If the Death Eaters were to promise he wouldn’t be able to live his current lifestyle, well, Archie isn’t sure what exactly he’d choose. Again, he would never consider himself morally good. In fact, he’s a bit more chaotic than that. While he lands on the right side of the war, it’s mostly because his wife wanted him too, and he thought it would be a good time. Now, as he’s realizing it wasn’t quite as good of a time as he thought it would be, Archie is wondering if he’s made the right decision. He won’t leave. No, especially not with Isla still here. However, he’s definitely biased towards many of the upper-level members, and those like Lily Evans, who seem to focus only on the rights of muggleborns. Just because he has money and privilege and charmingly handsome good looks does not mean he deserves any less than those who do not. In fact, he could use those three, very important, traits to help those who were not as privileged (or who’s hair was just disgusting. have the werewolves ever heard of baths).   There’s a part of him that wishes to do good, but it is buried under years and years of seeing bad in the world and letting it slide by because it was easier. Archie stood up for Isla and for himself, after all. He believed that was enough. Now, though, he’s uncomfortable with his shifting position; uncomfortable with the fact that he might, very well, care. Maybe he’s biased to think that he can help, at least bring a little bit of light to an organization that doesn’t seem to want to help him. Maybe he’s naive. But, he will still try. After all, Archie is nothing if not insistent.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO?:

I think I’m most excited to see what happens to Archie in this war. I know that sounds very vague, so let me explain. As of now, he’s never had to struggle. He’s never had to fight. Currently, Archie doesn’t know who he’d be if he were to put a wand up to a person in a mask. That person might be a friend, or even a family member. The Macmilans have remained neutral, thus far, in the war and so he doesn’t believe he has to worry about his father. Except, he does. His father joined almost instantly, keeping his involvement secret, as he waits to see what the happens in the coming election. I want Archie to realize he’s at odds with his family. Battle with the idea of duty over reason. Right now, he doesn’t have to worry about that idea because he doesn’t believe his family is involved in the war. But when he does realize; when his father finally tells him or something happens to put his family at risk, I want to see what he’ll choose. Will he go to the Death Eaters? Will he find himself pulling away? Will he finally realize that duty doesn’t have to mean that you agree? I’m really excited about the whole prospect of Archie figuring out who he is outside of his family unit, but I think this idea gives him a bit of a push to get there.

PLOT DROP IDEAS: While this idea is not fully baked, if the Death Eaters were ever to attack Gringotts, please feel free to involve Archie. I would love to have him put in a situation where he’s forced into the front line, because I do not think he’d ever go there of his own accord.

ANYTHING ELSE?: Not right now, although I’m so excited to hopefully write Archie.

#homenumaccepted

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ohhthereuare · 5 years

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summer lovin’ (happened so fast) (branjie)

“Yeah, I think Vanjie’s trade. I think she’s very handsome”

This confession, for once, was not forced.

A/N: This is a very cliche thing to do, to write canon down through my own interpretation and additions but I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I did writing it. Leave a comment what you think about it <3 ((yes I'm pretty obsessed with the idea of Vanessa leaving glitter everywhere she goes and it's probably gonna be a reoccurring theme that's my aesthetic™ forgive me))

AO3

She had a hard time filming these confessions. There was something very unnatural for someone to sit with a camera so close to your face and just talk, mostly talk shit about other people. Brooke was not that kind of person. She was also well aware of how your words could be easily taken out of context to make an entertaining edit so she watched herself. She didn’t want to get into any drama, just focus on the challenges and do her best. She still believed, maybe somehow naively so, that getting screen time and providing interesting content behind the scenes didn’t get you to the top. What you showed on the runway did.

Brooke had met some of the queens before they started filming the show, or at least has heard about them and knew them from social media. She was close with Nina West and has talked to some of the other contestants so it was hard to comment on them in terms of first impressions. The Canadian queen already had a vague idea of who she wanted to spend her time with during the show and who she didn’t want to end up working with during group challenges.

“Who do you think is trade?”

“You mean like ‘hot’? Who do I find hot?”

She thought of it for a second and went back to her first moments in the werkroom. There were many queens she would call attractive out of drag, more or less her type. But to Brooke it was never about just somebody’s face or body; it was about the way they held themselves in relation to how they looked and there was one person that captured her attention in particular. She wasn’t sure if she’s heard her first or caught a glimpse of red across the room but Vanessa Vanjie Mateo was not someone who went unnoticed in a crowd. It already was a gag of the season that she came back and she served it from the start with her entrance look. Brooke thought she looked beautiful, so different from the trainwreck of a look that she was last seen in on the show. And then the infamous moment of untucking came. All the queens taking their faces off and keeping their eyes wide open, scanning the room, giving out scores on their own. Brooke was not too self-conscious; many years of dance training shaped her body nicely so when she walked around in an undone khaki shirt she felt some eyes on her. And then when she looked across the room she caught sight of Vanessa standing shirtless, wig off and makeup partly removed with a towel, sparkling all over from the insane amount of glitter she liked to put on herself. She was pretty tiny and toned, which somehow made the Canadian queen smile to herself. With how loud and charismatic she was it was easy to forget she was not the tallest; she didn’t take a lot of space physically, but she claimed it by spirit. The remaining gold glitter contrasted nicely with her cinnamon-colored, smooth skin. Brooke looked away before she got caught staring.

“Yeah, I think Vanjie’s trade. I think she’s very handsome”

This confession, for once, was not forced.

It still hasn’t settled in. The fact that she won the first challenge. Not only the first Canadian queen on the show but also the first winner of season 11. It was all a blur of voices, happiness bubbling up her throat, the deep blue bodysuit clinging to her body in all the right places, that she desperately wanted to climb out of. The queens said their goodbyes and wrote their notes to Soju and before they knew it, they were out of drag and dragging their tired bodies to the van that would take them to the hotel. Brooke took a seat by the window and closed her eyes, listening to the other contestants chatting excitedly, expecting Nina to sit by her side. A loud, rough voice startled her from her quick nap; one that was unexpected but definitely not unwelcome.

“Congrats on your win, girl!” Vanessa’s smile was so broad it must have hurt her face. She looked so carefree and happy, like a child that just got their first puppy as a birthday gift.

“Congrats on making it through the first challenge.” It might have sounded meanspirited said by anyone else to any other queen, probably taken as shade but Brooke was smiling and she knew Vanessa wouldn’t take it as an insult. Instead, she seemed so excited to have survived the first episode she was almost bouncing off of walls, or at least the inside of the car.

“Thanks. I won’t let them send my ass packing so easily this season. Imma show these hoes that I’m more than just a meme. Especially when the competition is a fierce ass one. Your ass included.”

“Didn’t think you’d pay this much attention to my ass.”

“Mhm, you’d be surprised.”

Brooke opened her eyes in a flash and looked at Vanessa. She was sitting on her bent leg, the other one dangling from the seat, her body twisted towards Brooke’s. Their knees were so close they would brush against each other if the driver hit a bump on the road. There was a mischievous glint in her tired eyes and a daring promise hidden in the corner of her smirking lips. A few silver specks of glitter hid in the dips and planes of her collarbones and they shined whenever they drove by a streetlight. It looked like a never-before-seen constellation, one Brooke suddenly wanted to be the first one to discover.

She has heard stories about fooling around with your fellow queens or rather what bad of an idea that was. On the other hand, the lack of physical contact during the weeks of filming was a running joke between all the contestants and what a pain in the ass it was to all the men in wigs, pun intended. Having someone to flirt with, to let off some steam during the scarce unsupervised moments sounded inviting. The fact that they had actual chemistry was not bad either. The only thing Brooke couldn’t let happen was getting too much in her head and letting emotions take charge of her course to victory. But that she could do. Or so she thought.

They could call it off before anything even happened, blame it on shameless, innocent flirting and never go back to it again. Vanessa could touch her arm, get up and leave the van, they would smile at each other over breakfast and remain friendly during the challenges. Remain friends, no benefits added. Vanjie had already asked the question, now it was all up to Brooke to give the answer.

The van suddenly came to a halt. She didn’t even realize they had already arrived at the hotel’s parking lot. The rest of the queens started standing up, still loud, still laughing, very much oblivious to the exchange that still hung in the air and a sinking feeling sat low in Brooke Lynn’s stomach that meant a missed opportunity. Silky was making her deafening way to the front doors and tugged Vanessa with her before she had a chance to add anything else. Brooke sighed and got out of the car as well, the warm Californian air enveloping her skin like a mist. It was only their first week, much could still happen. Given that both of them stayed on the show, that it. There was a specific scent that Brooke always associated with the summertime, of concrete pavement at night cooling down after a whole day of soaking in scorching sunrays. She couldn’t wait to stand on the balcony adjacent to her room, damp skin drying from the shower and a calming cigarette between her lips, winding down after the day and mentally preparing herself for the hardships of the next one.

Most of the queens were already stepping into the lobby, Brooke being the last one to reach the building when she heard Vanessa yelling and already walking fast back outside.

“Go ahead, Mary. I left something in the van. Don’t wait up.”

She grabbed the taller queen by the hand, their fingers intertwining automatically, and Brooke only had a moment to notice how small and smooth her palm actually was, before she was being led behind the corner and backed up against the rough wall of the hotel. Vanessa pulled her down by the shirt and pressed a firm kiss to her lips. Brooke wasn’t sure whether it was the element of surprise or just the tension building between them the whole day but it felt different from any kiss she has ever shared with anyone before. Like an electrifying spark that made her heart beat so fast, she was sure Vanjie could feel it, with how she was pressed against her chest.

It ended almost as fast as it started and Brooke tried to follow Vanessa’s lips, to steal one more kiss for later, to imprint the feel of the other one’s touch into her body and carry it like a honey-sweet ghost of a memory tucked in her ribcage, just under her heart. Vanessa smiled, so proud of herself, gently rocking at the heels of her feet, looking up at Brooke with something akin to wonder in her own eyes. Like she just got something she wasn’t prepared for but was pleasantly surprised. Brooke just noticed another glistening dot of glitter rested on her cupid bow. She wanted to kiss it off. Every single one adoring her collarbones, shoulders and the rest of her body.

“We better get going. Before we get busted for, y’know.” Vanessa’s voice was uncharacteristically quiet and hoarse. It made something hot twist in Brooke’s stomach.

“Yeah. You’re right.”

They started at each other, savoring the moment, not knowing when they would have another chance to be this close and this alone. Despite silently agreeing on this thing being purely physical, something shifted in the air between them, in the breath they kept sharing. That overwhelming need that would sometimes come after the bodies and senses were already satisfied, that need for a different kind of closeness. Vanessa let go of Brooke’s shirt and slid her hands down the taller queen’s arms, leaving goosebumps in her wake, before stopping to lace their fingers together one more time. It somehow felt more meaningful than the heated exchange. Brooke ushered that thought to the back of her mind before she could start second-guessing and panicking over those weird feelings.

“I guess I’ll see you later, Miss Brooke Lynn.”

“I hope so, Miss Vanjie.”

She waited a minute before she followed the other queen, not wanting to expose them to any unwanted attention and suspicious questions. It was way too soon to tell what this thing between them would turn into. Maybe there wouldn’t be anything to even talk about. For all she knew they could get each other off a couple of times before calling it quits. Brooke has never been in a relationship but she was familiar with the ins and outs of an arrangement based on sexual appeasement. Then why was she suddenly feeling like she has never done anything like this before?

Back in her room, she stood on her balcony, a towel wrapped loosely around her waist, droplets of water dripping down her toned body, falling silently into the ground. The bitter smoke from the cigarette escaped her lips like fog coming from the wings onto a stage, clouding the Los Angeles dimmed view in front of her. An unexpected shine caught her attention and she brought her hand up to her eyes to observe a lost bit of glitter clinging to her skin.

She ducked her head, smiling, thinking where it came from and how it got there. A suffocating feeling squeezed her chest and it had nothing to do with her smoking.

#branjie #vanessa vanjie mateo #brooke lynn hytes #rpdr fic #rpdr fanfiction

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