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heartslobbf · 4 years

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let’s talk about perfuma. imo, she’s one of the best characters in the show despite being underdeveloped, and i wanna explain why. she could’ve been extremely average, just some lanky flower girl that doesn’t believe in violence and loves everyone, but she is so much more than that (and it pisses me off that y’all reduce her to that).

in her introductory episode, perfuma is clearly in denial about the horde almost destroying plumeria. she doesn’t want to acknowledge the problem, wants someone else to take care of it for her. she’s scared of change, and that is because change makes you vulnerable. if things always stay the same, there’s a whole lot less danger and uncertainty, and therefore you’re safe. secure. perfuma’s kingdom is dying and she can’t bear to accept it because it is unknown to her. it’s putting her in a position where she is no longer secure. this fear of vulnerability can also be seen at the beginning of 1x10 when the princess alliance falls apart and she literally says ‘being together makes us vulnerable.’

the thing is, perfuma isn’t wrong. look at her choice of words. she says that being together makes them vulnerable, not weak. here, she kind of has the words mixed up, but we see that by s5 she has come to understand the difference. that’s what’s so great about perfuma, her motivation to do better, her hunger for self-improvement. it’s why she’s such an important part of catra’s redemption, actually, because she embodies the kind person catra is or wants to be.

let me explain: perfuma is an angry, impatient, short-tempered character. we are shown this again and again with her passive aggression to others and how easily mermista can annoy her with trivial things (sitting in her seat in the war room, for example). catra is also an angry, impatient character, but perfuma works every day to manage those emotions. she knows she needs them, she uses them as a tool (calling catra out, for example, is a time they were practically pivotal for getting her point across) but she also acknowledges they can hurt the people she loves. we know she does a meditation ritual each morning and we see in 4x02 how quickly she can unravel without it. she wants to be better. she puts the work in. that is such a valuable lesson for a character like catra who has always felt she’s just not good enough, she’s always going to be this angry and unlovable and no one can do anything about it.

so, 4x02. it’s a brilliant episode for perfuma’s character, really, and the first proper development we’ve had since 1x04. we see her anger, her impatience, but we also see her self-doubt. her belief that she’s inadequate, ‘just a flower girl.’ this is also when we get introduced to her little mantra that becomes a bit of a motif later on, ‘i can do this.’ we know perfuma doesn’t wholeheartedly believe this, but she says it anyway because she wants to. perfuma wants to be better. she will do whatever she can to be her best self, whether that be actually conquering her gripes with cacti or realising there’s a loophole with the roots (love that conflict resolution by the way, another good deconstruction of hero bs by spop).

this episode is also significant because it comes back to perfuma’s fear of change, of vulnerability. she’s thrown into a situation she doesn’t want to be in, one she feels miserably unprepared for, and she hasn’t done the one thing that puts her at her best beforehand, but she pulls through in the end because she is surrounded by people that support her, that listened to her and consoled her when she was vulnerable. 4x02 teaches perfuma the power of self-worth and the power of true, mutual, unconditional love, which can only come with vulnerability.

and this is where her character gets really interesting, in my humble opinion. ngl, one of the reasons i love perfuma so much is because she’s a pisces and i am too. i’m not gonna go astrology hoe on you rn, i’m just using this to demonstrate the part of her character that teaches others. pisces, if you don’t know, love to play therapist. we like to help the people around us with whatever strifes they may have because we think we’re fucking great at it. perfuma actually is.

you know how i said perfuma learns the importance of self-belief and vulnerability? yeah, she teaches both of those lessons to other characters in s5. like i said, perfuma is a character who values self-betterment and also happens to be a pisces, so when she sees scorpia, riddled with so much self-doubt and such low self-esteem, her immediate response is just i’m gonna teach that bitch how to love herself. and she does!

i’ve seen some people say they don’t like scorfuma because it seemed as though the writers just decided to ‘fix’ all of scorpia’s problems by giving her a girlfriend. that’s very dumb, first of all because they aren’t even together by the end of the show, they’re just interested in one another. second, the whole point of she-ra is that we’re stronger together. scorpia doesn’t go through growth in s5 because a girl likes her, she goes through growth because someone is showing her support and love for the first time in her life and that empowers her. you know, the worth that scorpia finds in herself doesn’t hinge on perfuma, like it did with catra. it’s about her as an individual, and perfuma so clearly makes it about that when her big lesson revolves around singing. scorpia loves singing. perfuma tells her she should do it because she enjoys it, a sentiment you’d never hear in the horde, and when scorpia does sing, she is actively rejecting the people who did make all her self-worth hinge on them catra. she’s doing something for herself, because she enjoys it, because it makes her happy, because she can.

it’s that same mantra: i can do this, i can do this. i really love how this was brought back from 4x02, how perfuma repurposed something that taught her such a valuable lesson for someone else. perfuma and scorpia are great foil characters actually, both constantly underestimated and thought of as weak by their groups, but some of the strongest characters in the show due to their deep value of love and self. i can do this, and i know i can because you believe in me, because i believe in myself. it’s brought back again in 5x10, when the last thing perfuma says before scorpia breaks the beam is ‘i know you can [pull through]’. she tells catra she believes in scorpia. it’s that belief, that support from other people that empowers the self to believe it too. we are stronger together, you know??

anyways, onto vulnerability. return to the fright zone is in my top ten episodes of the whole fucking show and you might think that’s a bit weird but i don’t. 5x10 encompasses so many important themes of spop so well and tells them with scorfuma and spinnetossa, our two side lesbian couples. this is significant since perfuma literally draws a parallel between her and catra at the end of the episode, and catradora and spinnetossa have always been significant to one another. i’m gonna say it, perfuma is the reason catra is finally able to confess to adora in 5x13. i’ve already talked about how important perfuma is to catra’s motivation to improve, but she literally makes catra rethink everything about strength and vulnerability, two words catra has a lot of feelings about.

catra fears vulnerability. we know this. she has such a deep love for those important to her but is never able to articulate it because she worries she’ll be taken advantage of, shot down, laughed at, whatever. all of this stems from the abuse she suffered at shadow weaver’s hands and her attachment issues, and it’s also why catra pretends to hate scorpia’s very open displays of affection and love: she sees it as weak because she has been taught to, but it’s all she ever really wanted to be.

we also know perfuma used to fear vulnerability. she doesn’t any more. the entirety of the episode leading up to her and catra’s heart-to-heart is her being vulnerable, putting herself in a position where she’s in danger but believing it’s worth it. and it is. despite what everyone said to her, perfuma is right: it was worth it. she got through to scorpia, even if it was only for a moment. she literally spells it out to us and catra with one of the best lines in the whole show: it’s hard, keeping your heart open. it makes you vulnerable, but it doesn’t make you weak, and i have to believe it’s worth it.

back in 1x10, perfuma was right: being together makes you vulnerable. horde prime tries to use people’s relationships against them, that’s literally the plot of save the cat, the point of pitting catra and adora against one another. he sees them as weak, just like shadow weaver deems adora’s feelings for catra ‘confusing’, just like light hope insisted adora was a danger to her friends as long as she was around them. they were all wrong. yes, they’re vulnerable. perfuma acknowledges that vulnerability puts you in danger, that it’s difficult to do that, but she knows it doesn’t make you weak. weakness vs strength is a big conflict in 5x10 literally introduced to us with netossa’s theories on everyone’s weaknesses in the first few minutes.

like perfuma says, friendship isn’t a weakness. it’s her greatest strength. her belief in love is literally what saves her and adora’s lives, it’s what saves everyone who got chipped, glimmer, bow. belief in love, both of others and yourself, is what saves adora in her dying moments. perfuma summarises she-ra’s entire fucking message to us repeatedly in 5x10 and she tells it to catra because catra is the one who will do the most with it. that glance at adora, it’s obvious what it means. perfuma is telling catra she should be open with adora about her feelings because you have to believe it’s worth it.

you won’t get anywhere waiting for other people to make the move. she-ra couldn’t heal plumeria’s lands, so plumeria had to fight their own battle alongside her no matter how much they felt unable to. the rebellion couldn’t move mara’s ship, so perfuma had to despite thinking she wasn’t strong enough. the reason they always win in the end is because they have each other, they have love and support and people motivating them to do better. just like perfuma motivates herself to do better.

it’s the mantra. i can do this. i can be vulnerable and still win, because i have love. and it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard to be vulnerable when you’ve feared it all your life and you’re so angry, so hurt, but you have to believe it’s worth it. and it is. it is, it is, it is, love is stronger than anything and being vulnerable for the people you love is the only way you can ever get what you want from them. perfuma as a character embodies that, having learnt it herself, and teaches the lesson to one of the characters who needs it the most.

adora is dying, and catra loves her, and she knows she does, and she just has to believe. adora is dying, and she loves catra, and she knows she does, but she doesn’t believe. not until catra teaches her too, in that moment, to realise they were all wrong, light hope, shadow weaver, horde prime. adora doesn’t need to let go, she needs to hold on and believe she will be pulled back up by the girl she loves. she needs to believe she deserves it. that it’s worth it.

and it is.

#ANYWAYS I FUCKING LOVE PERFUMA THANK U QUEEN FOR BEING THE BEST SIDE CHARACTER #sjdjeksmnf sorry this is long i tried to keep it short #I HAVE SO MUCB TO SAY ABT HER #shut up daisy #spop #perfuma #scorfuma #catra #scorpia #catradora #adora #spop meta

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hardskz · 4 years

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bow down.

pairing — bang chan x genderneutral! reader

genre — modern royalty au, drama-ish, smut; sexual tension-ish, hand kink, brat tamer! chan, degradation, leg humping, humiliation

synopsis — you have eyes. prince bang chan is a whole snack. but you also have too high of an ego and can’t seem to accept that prince chan isn’t full of himself unlike the other dozen members of any royal family you’ve met before. alternatively, this is the disney channel movie ‘princess protection program’ but make it porn only.

note — this fic with a wc of 7k+ does not include any spoilers to the movie and you don’t even have to know what the movie is about you’ll get the gist as you read. ngl half of this is from one of my drafts from like 3 years ago and i never continued it so here i am turning it into filth hahahah (and i needed a fresh idea for brat tamer chan and hence why i think the sfw part is better written than the nsfw lmao) rip also pls accept this as the follower milestone gift and 1 year anniversary special :’)

“I’m pretty sure I asked for a puppy for my birthday — which was three months ago may I add — not for a new roommate?”

You look back and forth between Youngjae and the stranger sitting on the couch who is staring back at you with a curious expression. He looks around your age and you admit, his face isn’t the kind of face that makes you thank your parents that genetics did a decent job on you. It’s quite the opposite, actually.

His face is the type of face that makes you ask your parents why genetics didn’t do a better job on yours. Okay, you haven’t reached that stage of visual inferiority yet but that’s mainly because he is dressed in clothes that were trendy in the 15th century or something. The garments clinging to his skin look like a bad fusion of a suit (which college student wears a suit in their free time?) and the ridiculous costume the marching band at your former high school had worn whenever a football game was up. And those weird golden pins clipped on the blazer makes it seem as if he used to be in the marines or comes from a royal bloodline or—

Oh.

“Don’t mind my cousin, your Highness. (y/n)’s humor has always been questionable.” Youngjae sends you a glare before he puts on his sweetest smile — you know, the act he puts on whenever he tries to negotiate a bonus with his boss or woo his date — and opts to ignore your presence. “Anyway, since we are dealing with a more serious issue at hand than originally expected, we need to give you a makeover to—“

Before he gets to finish his sentence, you violently tug him away from the prince and despite Youngjae thrashing around and complaining, you manage to send the guest a forced smile and leave his vision. The moment you let go of Youngjae in the neighboring room, he readjusts his collar. “What? Couldn’t you have waited once I was done? Also, was it necessary to crinkle my collar this much?” he hisses but you get straight to the point.

“What is he doing here?”

“Uh, sitting on the couch?”

“That’s not what I mean.” you grit your teeth and land a punch on his arm. “What is he doing here?”

Youngjae looks over your shoulder, making sure that what he’s about to say next is only heard by you. “Prince Chan is,” he hesitates, unsure how to approach his topic. You know it’s taking up his last nerves to conclude a logical explanation as the tip of his tongue pokes out of the corner of his lips; a habit he has adapted ever since he stopped chewing on his bottom lip. “The predicament he’s in is worse than we expected. Well, his dad is partially at fault because he forgot to tell us this not-so-small critical detail that—“

“Youngjae, you’re rambling.”

“The point is.” he sighs and gives you a distressed look as if he already knows you’re not going to like the information at all. “We can’t send him to the family in Goyang, the place he was originally going to stay in. He’s one of the more extreme cases and the Board agreed that he had to live with one of the active combatants to ensure his safety.”

Silence engulfs the kitchen and you know he’s waiting for you to count two and two together.

“He’s going to live here,” you deadpan eventually and Youngjae nods in confirmation.

“I know you’re not very happy—“

“Not very happy is underwhelming.” You earn a flick against your forehead and yelp in pain as you over the spot he just hit. “Ow! I was just stating the truth!”

“Will you stop interrupting me? Geez. Yes, I know that you’re not happy at all. I know that you’re not a huge fan of the majority of our family working in this business. But please do me this one favor or so help me God— try to be nice to him for the next year.”

“He’s staying for a year?” you shriek and in the blink of an eye, Youngjae clamps your mouth shut.

“Can you keep it down?!” he whisper-yells, then retreats his hand and reverts to a conversational tone with a frown. “It’s just a year, okay? Y’know, just... say hi to him whenever you see him. Act civilized.”

You grimace as he stresses his last words like you didn’t know what human decency was. The longer you keep the petrified expression on your face, the more it turns into a staring contest between the two of you. Just as if you were each other’s reflection, you mimic his actions and vice versa. When Youngjae squints, you squint. When you shoot him a glare, he returns it. It all boils down to the final blink that Youngjae feints and you’re the first to look away.

“Okay fine! I’ll try to behave,” you mumble in defeat.

A satisfied smile makes its way on Youngjae’s lips. “It’s always nice negotiating with you.”

Being born into a family where the majority works for the royalty protection program (short: RPP or as you like to stylize it: argh-pee-pee), also known as the secret service for people with crowns on their heads, comes with many perks. In your eyes, this privilege comes with many, many downsides that aren’t worth the advantages. Sure, there is the one or other occasion where you can waltz around in fancy evening attire and attend an actual ball, but overall, it’s a pain in the ass.

Even though it’s prohibited to openly declare that you work for the RPP, the news always finds its way out. Usually, it takes approximately a week for pretty much half of the neighborhood to find out. And it certainly isn’t nice hearing whispers about your dad being that guy working for the program whenever you step out of your house, which is ultimately why you moved in with your cousin Youngjae. (Housing in your small town wasn’t really affordable for a dirt poor college student after all!)

Youngjae has always been your favorite cousin out of the... whatever number of cousins you have. But here’s the thing. He also works for the RPP.

However, somehow he managed to — and up to this day it still remains a mystery to you how on earth he did that — keep his job a secret. Especially with his tendency to dish out the worst kinds of secrets when he’s slightly tipsy. Frankly, you once considered printing out the image of a trophy for that remarkable feat.

With your dad and cousin both active in that business (because organization sounds too shady), it’s not the first time you meet a prince, so you already know how the entire thing works. The concept is quite simple; they get sent to a household but before they settle in and take on a fake identity until their circumstances have improved, they undergo a makeover. Most of the time, it ends up in the glow up you secretly crave but in Prince Chan’s case, you suppose he can’t get any more attractive.

Oh boy. You’re in for a ride.

You’re busy slicing bell peppers for the meal you were cooking when both your cousin and the prince enter the kitchen and Youngjae explicitly demands you to pay them attention. You don’t react immediately, but the moment he threatens to swipe the knife away from you, you perk up and set your desire to prepare your fried rice aside.

“(y/n), uh, hi? I’m Bang Chan and I’ll be your new housemate for a year. I hope we can get along.” Chan recites his introduction without any mistakes and earns a way too brotherly pat on the back from Youngjae, considering that they just met this morning. It’s truly amazing how fast Youngjae can get people to warm up to him.

Chan is stripped out of his weird clothes and instead, looks like he threw on the next best thing lying around in his room. Nonetheless, despite the seemingly little effort that was put into the outfit, it looks oddly good. The stylists didn’t seem to do much to his hair and just parted his bangs a little, so one could catch a slight glimpse of his forehead. It’s just a small detail, but you find yourself liking his current appearance much more appealing than before, though you’re pretty sure his clothes played a major part in your previous distaste.

“Remember Jihyo?” Youngjae interrupts your train of thought. “She’s Chan’s relative. And because I’m the genuine friend who loves to help her out, I decided to agree to this after she went down on her knees and begged me to let Chan live with us for a while—“

“I’m not interested in your blown up, fictional background stories, thank you very much.” you backtrack. “Wait. Did you say Jihyo? Seriously? Jihyo is his alibi?” Of course, you remember Jihyo. It’s quite difficult to forget her when Youngjae used to swoon about her at every hour of the day, back when they were a thing. Besides, she still stops by every few months.

“C’mon, you have to admit there is a similar vibe between them!”

You furrow your brows and inspect Chan a second time. Your gaze wanders back to Youngjae and then returns to Chan anew. It’s obvious that the latter is feeling as if he were up for auction and you can’t really blame him for feeling so uncomfortable. You’ve heard from a few friends that if looks could kill, you’d have the highest killing record.

There’s no similar vibe in your view, but for the sake of entertaining Youngjae’s thoughts: “He does seem similar to Jihyo.”

“Told ya. But back to more important matters,” Youngjae coughs and wraps his arm around your shoulder to pull you closer, but it somehow seems as if he’s opting to strangle you. “My duties are calling, so I won’t be back until late. You look like you could need some help with cooking, by the way. I’m sure Chan right here is willing to help you!”

“I’m almost done though—“ you choke when he tightens his embrace. By now, his arm is no longer hugging your shoulder, but rather crushing your throat.

“You look like you could need some help,” he repeats, this time with added urgency. “It’d be a great opportunity for you to bond since you’ll also share pretty much all classes at uni. Did you know, he has the same major as you! Besides, it’d be a very useful life experience for him if he helped you with cooking.”

“Of course, how fun!” you hiss, voice going an octave higher from the lack of oxygen. “I already said that I’m painfully delighted about that, so you can let me go now, Youngjae!”

A sneer and a jab in his arm later, Youngjae finally takes his leave. That nasty liar, leaving an hour earlier than his schedule stated. You know that silently cursing at him isn’t going to make your problems dissolve because that’d be a dream come true.

“Listen, let me get things straight.” you sigh, picking up the knife to resume chopping your vegetables. Youngjae may have ordered you to act civilized, but having eye contact with Chan when you’ve been starving for the past hour isn’t your priority. Food doesn’t make itself. “I don’t have any intention of getting close to you and I expect the same from you. Don’t step a foot into my room, don’t talk to me unless absolutely necessary, and don’t think I’ll run around and do your chores or cook your meals like one of your little servants. Just because you’re a prince doesn’t mean you’ll be treated like one under this roof.”

“We live in the 21st century, not the renaissance. Your idea of royal families is very dated.” Chan chuckles dryly.

“Baron Yoon Jeonghan from the seven islands is a stuck-up prick and out of touch with the world. It took him several visits to the slums, multiple voluntary hours at the kindergarten, and stripping him off his bank card to make him see reason,” you deadpan. Fuck Baron Jeonghan. Just thinking about your first and last encounter with that entitled douchebag almost makes you slice your finger instead of the bell pepper. “Duchess Yoo Shiah threw a hissy fit when she found out her clothes weren’t dry cleaned and bought from Zara instead of fucking Dior. The one who takes the cake when it comes to privilege is Princess Kim Min—”

“Everyone knows they are problematic,” Chan interjects. True, he has a point. There’s nobody out there who doesn’t know about Baron Jeonghan or Duchess Shiah but he’s also missing the entire point.

“And guess who gets stuck under the care of the RPP?” you raise a brow at him. He blanches at the realization as if he got struck with lightning. Perhaps you should give him more credit because he seems to own more brain cells than Baron Jeonghan. “Exactly. Everyone problematic.”

Chan’s jaw is clenched as he racks his brain to come up with a smart comeback. The sight of him stumbling on his words is nothing but pitiful, so you turn back to the cutting board and grab an onion to slice in half. “I’m not interested in your sob story, your Highness. I don’t care why you’re under the protection of the RPP. The only thing I care about is that you stay out of my business.”

“Chan is fine. No need for the title,” he sighs with a strain. “Perhaps I should’ve been more considerate with my first comment. Youngjae already told me about your… negative attitude towards the entire setup. It wasn’t my intention to anger you. Sorry.”

Well, that’s new. Out of the dozens of aristocrats you’ve met (and sadly also shared a house with back when you were 16 years old and still living with your dad), he’s the first to drop his title within five minutes for the sake of the disguise and apologize.

“We live under the same roof so we should get along with each other. If there’s something you need help with, just ask me, (y/n).”

“Thanks for the offer,” you reply nonchalantly because act civilized unless you want to suffer from a late-night sneak attack from Youngjae if he finds out. “But no thanks. I don’t need your help.”

You find yourself in need of help a few weeks later, right before the dreaded exam season.

“No. Forget it, Bam. I’m not going out clubbing with you tonight. In fact, I won’t do that anytime soon.” you let out an exasperated sigh as you try to break down to your friend that you prioritize your grades over his need of getting wasted.

“C’mon!” he whines so loudly that you have to put your phone farther away from your ear. “You’re not in that much stress yet! You have to make the most out of it before you drown in your exams.”

“Things are different for engineering students like, uh, me for example!” you hiss. “I fell behind and need to catch up. Ask Yugyeom or Changbin.”

“First of all, Yugyeom is always at the bar doing his job. And Changbin never picks up his phone. There’s nobody who’d dance with me!”

“You abandoned me at the bar for some chick the last time,” you deadpan. “I’m very sure you’ll find someone.”

Bambam finally gets the gist and gives up. “Fine then. Your loss. Have fun dying in numbers and variables instead of living in the moment. You’re going to regret it—”

You end the call and set your phone on mute before throwing it on the bed. Sometimes you wonder whether you were on drugs when you decided to major in engineering. The longer you stare at the jumble of numbers and letters — some of them in Greek too — the more you think your brain cells are decaying.

That’s how you find yourself in the kitchen, complaining at Youngjae’s expense and telling him how much you’d rather drown in bleach than subjecting yourself to Algebra II.

“You know there’s someone you can ask for help and he’s right here,” Youngjae drawls before chugging down the rest of his beer. If he’s going to be a victim to your temper tantrum about a major that you chose yourself, he might as well get a drink so he won’t go insane from your monologue about numbers and graphs and formulas he’s forgotten since he graduated from high school.

You gawk at him. “You? Are you hearing yourself? You almost failed maths. Twice!”

“Because I didn’t mean myself, dipshit,” he says blankly and his eyes flit over your shoulder, “Speaking of the devil. There comes the man of honor.”

You whip your head back to the door to see Chan enter confusedly. “Uh, did I interrupt something?”

“Yes.”

“No, we were just talking about you!”

You send Youngjae a death glare which he casually shrugs off. “(y/n) here is bitching about her Statistics I class and needs a tutor!”

“It’s actually Algebra II if you bothered to pay attention—”

“(y/n) needs a tutor!” Youngjae exclaims and nearly trips on his feet when he gets up from his chair. “Channie, I heard you’re good with numbers. Didn’t you get accepted into all Ivy Leagues in the States for all engineering programs?”

“You didn’t have to word it like that,” Chan laughs it off and nervously rubs the back of his head. He’s not denying it though.

“Obviously he would. He’s loaded and lives in a castle,” you mutter under your breath, but everyone catches it.

“Hey,” Youngjae warns. “That wasn’t necessary.”

“It’s alright,” Chan says casually. “I just wanted to get myself a snack. But if you have some questions, don’t hesitate to knock on my door. The offer still stands, y’know.” He digs through the cabinet until he finds two packs of the strawberry flavored Pocky knockoff that is 1) apparently his favorite thing to eat and 2) half the price of the Pocky version. He gives Youngjae a thumbs up before he returns to his room.

The moment Chan is out of sight, Youngjae whips his head to you, nostrils flaring. All that’s missing is steam coming out of his ears and his face running red and then he looks like the impetuous brother in every kids cartoon ever. “Really? He’s been staying with us for how long now? Four weeks? Five? Yet you’re still acting as if he murdered you in your dreams or something.”

“I don’t like him,” you state coldly. Youngjae looks like he’s about to rip his hair out.

“Look, I get that you don’t like me being active in this field of work, and I get that you have some hatred against the royal families. But you know you signed up for this when you decided to move in with me.” Youngjae pauses to get a breather and pop a new beer bottle open. “Besides, Chan isn’t like Baron Jeonghan or Duchess Shiah. I have eyes, (y/n), and I’ve seen you two avoiding each other as much as possible. And he doesn’t just laze around — he does the fucking chores and cooks dinner too! Chan is good, (y/n).”

The last words make you snap. “Good? Are you fucking serious? Because that’s why the press in his kingdom is depicting him as a tyrant who cares more about building his sick harem instead of helping the poor. And wasn’t he diagnosed for having anger management issues?!”

All the color leaves Youngjae’s face. This is obviously something you shouldn’t know. While he’s scrambling for words, you take the chance to add, “Dunno why you’re protecting him when he’s making headlines as a prince who can’t keep his dick in his pants.”

“Chan isn’t just a prince,” Youngjae says quietly. “He’s the crown prince.”

Your eyes widen at the confession. “What? Isn’t that even worse with that reputation he has?”

“It’s all propaganda,” he sighs and takes a swig, “The ministers are doing everything they can to finish him off. You see, Chan is the only child of the current king of the seven islands, and if he’s wiped out, it’ll be utter chaos. Chan’s smart and I admit, he used to have anger issues, but he’s worked on them. Though I guess he’s resorted to bottling up his feelings when push comes to pull. The point is, all the higher-ups don’t want him as their future king because they know that Chan is very much capable of pulling through with his own ideas and that doesn’t sit well with them. And a supposedly impulsive future king is the last thing anyone wants, hence why his people are eating up the news.”

“Oh.” you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel an ounce of remorse. However, it’s not the first time you’ve heard such stories.

“Yeah. Oh,” Youngjae mocks, “If that’s the main reason why you don’t want to talk to him, now you know better. He might have power, but he’s not a monster. And for the record, he got into all Ivy Leagues and elite schools all over the world through his intelligence, not his status.”

Although you can see it in his eyes that Youngjae is done with the heated discussion, he’s still waiting for you to say something. You frown. “So… you think he’s a good tutor?”

“He’s your only shot.” Youngjae says nonchalantly, then adds with a warning tone, “But remember: Act. Civilized. Oh, and don’t tell him I told you about his circumstances. It’s supposed to be confidential information.”

You roll your eyes. How the fuck hasn’t Youngjae been busted yet?

Nonetheless, you’re trudging to Chan’s door a few minutes later, your fat binder of incomprehensible math formulas and (Greek) letter heavy in your arm. Chan opens the door with surprise etched on his face after you knocked, but it settles to warmth when you begrudgingly ask him to help you understand Algebra II.

“Sorry, it’s a little messy here,” he chuckles airily once he lets you in. It’s not messy per se, just a few clothes piled up in a corner of the room and some books and messily written notes lying on his bed. Still, it’s by far cleaner than the pig stall that is Youngjae’s room (and yours when you’re having a very bad day).

Chan clears his desk and drags his other chair to the table before plopping down on it. “So, what’s the problem?” Instead of answering, you just shove a sheet of paper up his face. “Y’know, you can talk to me. If this is about earlier, it’s really alright. I’m not mad or anything,” he says with the same friendly tone you’ve been hearing ever since he moved in, yet he still takes the sheet from you. You watch his brows scrunch together the more he reads on, and you can already see the question forming in his mind.

“(y/n), you do know this is the basis to understand—”

“I was absent when the professor covered it and everyone I asked couldn’t quite explain it to me,” you respond before he can finish speaking out his thoughts. “All my friends were like—” you gesture with your hands, “—you just do this and that and then hope your hunch is right. Before you say it, yes I know that I don’t get the material of one entire unit and the exam is two weeks away.”

“Then let’s not waste any time,” Chan says before grabbing his iPad. You stare at him blankly as he writes something on his tablet. The last thing you expected from him was to accept it and try to hammer as much of missing information as he can into your brain, but then again, you’ve never seen him backtrack whenever Youngjae asks him something. Speaking of Youngjae, perhaps he is right. Chan does seem to know what he’s talking about.

“You have to subtract X first, then replace it with Y,” he explains as he circles said letters in different colors. By now, you’ve leaned closer to him to get a better view on what he’s writing (his handwriting isn’t the worst you’ve ever had to decode; refer to Youngjae who you’ve internally awarded with the worst handwriting of the decade).

Chan is exceptionally good at explaining. You feel like you’ve figured out a secret of the world that not even Pythagoras found out as you slowly understand what on Earth you are supposed to calculate with the formula. Chan is patient, always asking if you got it or if you needed another clarification, and takes the time to draw colorful graphs to visualize the jumble of numbers. His voice is pleasing to the ear too, soft and gentle to the point where you’ve blurred everything out except Chan. Chan’s voice. Chan’s hand.

You didn’t mean to stare, but with him always adding something new every five seconds as he goes on with his monologue, you can’t help but do so. His fingers aren’t long — that’ll always be courtesy of Hyunjin from Subway and yes, his very pretty hands might be the sole reason you only insist on going to that one specific Subway at the intersection next to KFC — but just one glance at Chan’s hand and you know that he’s strong.

He’s barely applying pressure to the pen, but you can see the veins slightly protruding. Chan’s sleeves are pushed back and if you move your head a bit, you’re more than certain that veins are bulging out from his forearms too. However, you don’t muster up the courage to do that because Chan will definitely notice and the last thing you want on your platter is to tell him that you were too busy checking out his arms instead of listening to him talk about Algebra II.

Eventually, Chan sets the pen down to stretch his hand. He says something, but you don’t pick up what exactly. Not that it’d matter much anyway since you’re too busy admiring his hand—

“(y/n), you there? I called out your name several times but you didn’t react.” Chan’s breath hitches and surprise flashes in his eyes for a split second when his gaze meets yours. You don’t understand his hesitation, but then horror bubbles in you once you realize that his hand is firmly gripping your chin and keeping your head pointed at his direction. The very same hand you’ve been staring at for God knows how long.

“I’m good. Just a little tired, but I’m good,” you stutter, though it comes out very breathlessly as if you just finished a marathon.

“Tired?” Chan echoes, concern settling into his features. “You should’ve said so, then I would’ve stopped talking. You need something?”

Now that you think about it, you’ve never got a close look at Chan. Sure, he’s handsome, the countless pictures of Google prove that he’s also too photogenic for his own good (goddamnit, why didn’t your parents make you just as photogenic?) but in person, he’s something else. His lips are plush and look very inviting to kiss, and the lower your eyes wander, the more you see a toned chest hidden underneath that damn shit that hugs him in all the right places.

Fine, his hands aren’t the only attractive thing about him. Then again, he’s a prince.

“I said I’m good.” you snap out of your thoughts and finally gather enough control over your nerves to tear his hand away. “And I caught everything you said.” Of course, you know that’s a blatant lie and he knows so too from the way he’s looking at you. That is until he quirks a brow.

“Okay, then what did I say before I called you?”

Your mouth feels dry. It’s almost as if he knew the reason for your distress. “I caught everything relevant to this,” you mutter, suddenly finding his curtains much more interesting. What an interesting design, maybe you should get yourself new curtains too—

“Then you wouldn’t mind solving these questions, right? Just so I can make sure that you got everything down.”

“Sure,” you reply because that’s the only thing you could say without hurting your ego and straining your vocal cords. Chan doesn’t comment any further and looks for some practice questions before sliding the iPad to you. Already the first question makes your head spin in disdain. Numbers? Variables? Never heard of them.

Chan is watching you like a hawk as you fiddle with the pen, unable to write down anything that makes remote sense. Feeling his eyes on you makes you feel helpless and you shift around in your seat. “What are you staring at?” you glare at him once you give up for good, and you just hope that your look is as intimidating as you pictured in your head.

“You’re definitely exhausted. You’re shaking,” Chan points out. Your eyes widen as you stare down and realize that your thighs are shaking, and it’s then and there when you realize that you’re feeling hot. Seems like Chan doesn’t realize that because the worry written on his face is genuine. “You say the exam’s in two weeks right? We can stop for today and work on this tomorrow. That is if you still want my help.”

You nod and add in a tiny voice, “Yes, please.”

You’re too busy ignoring the heat building between your thighs to notice the borderline feral sound that leaves Chan.

“And here I thought you had quality bonding time.” Youngjae gives a disappointed look. “You’re acting even colder towards him than before your exam meltdown. Your prick level can only stoop down so low.”

You ended up getting tutor lessons from Chan every day before the dreaded day of judgment: the exam in Algebra II. You spent more hours in his room than on your own if you were completely honest, and the results were fruitful. While you did manage to pass the exam with a fairly high score, the price you had to pay was hell.

It’s almost as if Chan caught up on your hand fixation. Sometimes he twirled the pen in his fingers, sometimes it was the simple bracelet dangling on his wrist. Just when you thought he had you figured out, he asks you if you’re alright, visibly oblivious to his effect on you. Such duality in a person should be illegal, you conclude. If you die from whiplash, you know who the perpetrator is.

“You were the one who pretty much pressured me into asking him for help,” you drawl.

“I had good intentions only! You can’t keep up the I-hate-royal-families-blah-blah mentality the entire time!” Youngjae wails before stuffing a handful of chips in his mouth.

“Watch me.” You internally cringe at the loud crunching sounds he’s making and add vigorously, “And stop chewing so loudly.”

“You’ll get around or so help me God—” he groans when his phone buzzes. He doesn’t spare a glance at the caller ID because there’s only one person who has set his ringtone to the baby shark song specifically for when he’s calling. “I gotta go, Jinyoung’s being a bitch again. Don’t murder somebody. Thanks.” You only watch him shuffle for his bag and grab a handful of chips before he’s out the door. Groaning, you clean up the mess he’s made on the table.

Just as you’re done wiping the crumbs off the surface, Chan pads into the room.

“Hey, can we talk?”

“I established right at the beginning that you should only talk to me when absolutely necessary.” you scowl, trying to walk past him.

“Well, this is important,” he urges and blocks the doorway, effectively stopping you from fleeing. “And I do deserve one conversation with you after I helped you out.”

“You offered on your own. That’s not the same as asking for a favor.” You successfully push your way past him, but in the next moment, he spins you around and pins you against the wall.

“We’re going to talk, whether you like it or not.” The sudden coldness of his tone has shivers running down your spine. Chan holds your wrist in an iron grip and if he clutched on any tighter, you wouldn’t put it past him to break your bones. Out of options, you comply and give him a curt nod before he lets go and takes a step back.

“I don’t understand you, (y/n). I genuinely thought you would put your prejudices aside but instead, all I get are mixed signals from you.”

It’s your turn to gawk. “Me? Mixed signals? What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about how you keep looking at me as if you want me to fuck your brains out.” If the color hasn’t drained from your face yet, it has now. Chan smiles wickedly at your horrified reaction but doesn’t stop there. “I’m talking about how you talk like you don’t want anything to do with me but act as if you’re begging for my attention.” He takes a step closer to you, and you wish you could morph with the wall. “I’m talking about how you keep staring at my hands and think I don’t notice it.” You wince when he rests his hands against the wall on each side of your face, leaning closer so that you can feel his breath on your lips. “So, you have a thing for my hands?” Bullseye.

“You’re so full of yourself. No wonder your ministers want to get rid of you,” you snap because you’d rather suffer from food poisoning than admitting that you want Chan’s fingers in you.

Something shifts within Chan. He gapes at you, clearly not expecting you to even know about the ministers. His demeanor darkens in a blink of an eye, and you feel like your legs are about to give up on you when you meet his eyes, black and feral.

“You’re playing with fire. Don’t anger me,” he warns, voice low and rough.

“So it’s true that you resorted to bottling up your feelings, your Highness?” you cock your head to the side. Chan clenches his jaw at the mention of his title, struggling to keep his anger in check. You laugh through your nose, then grab one of his hands and force it away from the wall. If he already knows that you’re thirsting after him, might as well go for it. “It’s funny how your ministers aren’t able to string you around like a puppet yet here you are, unable to do anything against a commoner. You know you have nice hands and you know my weakness and yet, you’re not using them on me.” He gulps when you fumble with his fingers.

And then he understands.

“Unless I misread the situation,” he says darkly, though you distinguish the slight tremor his voice carries. “Do you really want this? I’m not going to go easy on you.” Chan is dead serious, judging by the way he’s looking at you expectantly.

“The safe word is petunia.” You don’t take your eyes off him and add in a louder tone, “Now try me, do your worst.”

“You’re going to regret wanting me at my worst,” Chan growls and before you know it, he crashes his lips against yours. The kiss is anything but sweet, more of a clash of teeth and tongues and saliva dribbling down your chins, yet it leaves you boiling hot and wobbly on your feet. He presses you up against the wall and forces his leg between yours, the sudden contact making you hunch forward. You moan against his mouth when he tugs harshly on your hair, the sting making your nerves go haywire. In the meantime, your hands roam his upper body, blunt nails digging into his shoulders as you try to buck your hips against his leg. While he doesn’t budge, you manage to elicit a groan out of him.

When you pull away, you’re both gasping for air. Chan’s hair is disheveled from the way you’ve been pulling on them, lips pink and glossy. One look in his eyes is enough to make your heart stop beating. They’re dark and animalistic and set ablaze with unfiltered lust. You’re such in a daze from a simple kiss that you nearly stumble when Chan drags you to his room.

He manhandles you on his bed with ease before his lips latch on yours once more. You nearly sob when he rids you off your pants, putting pressure in all the right places to have you losing your mind. As you’re about to gain back some dominance in the kiss, he breaks it off. His fingers that were once ghosting over your underwear are now tracing patterns all over the material, making you spasm. “You’re such a brat, all bark but no bite. All it takes is one kiss and you’ve lost all your fight. Can you get any more pathetic?” he mocks as he focuses his fingertips directly on the wet patch of your underwear. Your eyes roll back as he rubs on the same spot, the broken moans leaving you eerily similar to cries. “Don’t tell me you’re about to come like this. How sensitive are you?”

“Am n-not—” you cut yourself off with a whimper when he lets the waistband snap against your skin.

“Yeah, you sure about that?” he grins and that’s when you break, feeling your high approaching at lightning speed.

“Don’t wanna come like this—”

“But I thought you’re not sensitive?” the satisfied grin just widens with every syllable that leaves his lips. “If you don’t want to come like this, all over your underwear, beg.”

Chan applies even more force to your sensitive spots, and you struggle to have a clear thought. The smirk he delivers is lethal, and you couldn’t be any more convinced that he’s the devil’s incarnate.

“I’ll do anything, please. Don’t let me come like this, that’s all I’m a-aah-asking for,” you weep, your blood nearly boiling at its climax, “I’ll even take a punishment!”

“Say my name,” he orders, fingers still drawing circles.

“Your—”

“My name, not my title.”

Your breath hitches as you finally realize what he’s aiming for. He wants you to remember that it’s him who’s reducing you into this illiterate mess. Him, the one you’ve been despising since before you even met. If you still had any ounce of dignity left, you’d try to fix the power imbalance until you’re left with no choice but to obey, but now you’re so close and the last thing you want to do is come with your pants on.

“Please, Chan,” your voice breaks towards the end and in an instant, he pulls away. As you’re letting you’re basking in the break from his brutal tempo, not too affected by how your upcoming orgasm is fading away, Chan observes you.

And then out of nowhere, he flips you on your stomach and delivers a hard smack to your ass that has you screaming into the pillows.

“You said you’d take any punishment too, right?” You twitch as he rubs the small of your back. You can already imagine the handprints on your ass he continued to slap you with such force that has you moving up the bed. The pain that’s going to haunt you for days. Before you know it, you try to arch your back to lift your ass, but then the bed shifts. “But if you really think I’m going to spank you as a punishment, then you’re really fucking dumb. As if I’ll use my hands on you when we both know you love my hands.”

With that, he drops himself on his chair, spreading his legs that you can see the prominent tent forming in his pants. He orders you over with a flick of his finger, and just as you get up from the bed, a new wave of horror flushes over you.

“Crawl.”

The look you send him is priceless. There’s no fucking way you can do it. It’s just a few meters, nothing you can’t handle, but he’s there sitting on his Ikea swivel chair as if it’s his throne made of gold, watching your every movement like a predator. And then there’s you, only in a shirt and underwear, being forced to go on all fours as if you were his fucking dog—

The difference in power display couldn’t get any more visible. He really is the fucking worst.

“You’d really do anything, huh…” he muses as you drop on your hands and knees and crawl to him, never looking up. It’s only when he beckons you to stand up that you look at him with nothing but rage and shame in your eyes. Chan has always been slightly terrified with your death stare but right now, he can’t take it seriously and it shows. It shows in the way he smiles lopsidedly, in the way his brows quirk in amusement. “Now hump my leg.”

Humiliation runs through your body all over. Your fists are clenched as he waits for you to act, even pats his thigh in case you didn’t get the memo. But oh you do, and his thigh does look inviting.

“Hump my leg like the brainless bitch you are. If you want my hands or my cock, you earn it first. Especially since you treated me like shit ever since I moved in.” The last sentence burns you badly because he has a point. But then there’s the prospect of his hands and dick that’s bulging out of his pants.

Pushing all thoughts away, you settle on his leg. Taking a moment to gather yourself, you tell yourself it’s all good and then you move. The first thrust knocks all air out of your lungs and you grab onto his shoulders for support. You didn’t even move that much, but Chan’s looking at you as if he’s about to fucking devour you and knowing that he is very much capable of moving you around, you’re starting to become overwhelmed.

Eventually, you lose yourself in the feeling of his rough jeans against your drenched underwear, humping on his thigh as your orgasm builds up. It’s silent, save for your pants, and the countless whimpers flying past your lips as your movements gradually become sloppier. You’re almost there and you know it. But so does Chan, and the moment he’s got it figured out, he lunges from your hips and forces you to pick up the pace.

“Oh no, you’re going to come,” he growls, ignoring your pleas and sobs. Adrenaline courses in your blood and you know it isn’t long until you fall apart. You try to make him stop, even put your hands on his, but you don’t have the energy to actively push him away.

“Chan, please— I’m gonna—”

“You’re gonna come? Then fucking come on my thigh, (y/n),” he snaps, and then adds, “You hear that? You’re about to come from humping my thigh.”

Maybe it’s the realization that he’s right, maybe it’s the way he’s worded it. Either way, it’s the last straw to make you spasm as you come, soaking your underwear and even managing to make a mess out of his pants. Chan makes sure you ride through your orgasm, only stopping to move your hips once you’re all spent and resting your head on his shoulder. Your eyes are glassy, vision foggy, but the only thing you can envision clearly is Chan.

Chan jolts when your hand grazes over his bulge. You’re about to undo his pants, but he’s quick to stop you and restrict your hands behind your back.

“You think you deserve my cock? Dream on. As if I would fuck any commoner, especially those who don’t respect me,” he spits, and you flinch at his choice of words, clearly recalling that you used the exact same terms and he’s now using it against you. “You said you’d take any punishment. Well, guess what? This was just punishment number one.”

#yes the ending is rushed oops sue me #may consider part 2 so heads up #stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #chan smut #smut.mine #dom!chan #sub!reader #crispy.txt

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nose-bandaid · 3 years

Text

love, at its core

hi!! i hope you're havin a good day rn 😊😊 i just saw requests are open??? i was gonna ask if i could request something with yuto?? like his s/o is chillin with him at home and then they just get hit with the realization "omg my boyfriend is just sitting there and i can kiss him any time i want??? all i have to do is ask??? is it really that simple???? what a concept..." i know its very specific but its just smth ive been thinkin about these days?? like people datin can just kiss each other any time???? its just so simple yet so special at the same time??

Yuto x (gender neutral) Reader fluff | 2k words

synopsis: waking up one day, you were hit with a curious thought that made you realize how lucky you were to have a boyfriend

a/n: here you go anon !! i hope that this is what you wanted and that i didn't get carried away with the idea 😅 enjoy<3

ngl this ended up a little similar to -27°C but i love domestic relationships so it's cool

There was something peculiar about living with your boyfriend.

Nothing had changed since yesterday, or last month, or even the year before. You've been living together for a while now and today shouldn't have been any different. It shouldn't.

However, an intriguing thought in your mind constantly nudged you to love him even more today.

When you woke up, the first thing you did was roll over onto your side to study Yuto's face. Even asleep, he was incredibly pretty and you reached a hand to brush the strands of hair that had fallen over his face. He's been growing it for quite a while now, and oftentimes he would tie it all back in a small ponytail that you thought was endearing. But you thought he looked especially fluffy when he let his hair down. The sight of it that morning, however, tickled your own face and you tucked it behind his ear with a small smile.

"Better?" You whispered, not really expecting a reply because you believed he was still asleep. But he did, in fact, whisper a quiet "better" and you locked eyes with him in surprise.

"G'morning." He croaked out, trying to rub the sleep out of his face.

"Good morning Yuto," You replied, laughing when he leaned into your touch and tried to snuggle back to bed. "It's time to wake up, sleepyhead."

He wrapped an arm around you to pull you closer, burying his face into your neck to plant a kiss there. "But there's nothing planned for today." He whined, and it came out more of a question than it did as a complaint.

You wriggled your way out of the hug and poked his cheek. "You promised you'll make breakfast today though!"

That caused him to stir.

Yuto hefted himself into a sitting position with a huff and sent you a lazy grin. "I guess you're right; I can't back out of that."

Leaning in to plant one last kiss on your forehead, he patted your shoulder before standing up. "Just stay in bed for a while longer, love. I'll let you know when breakfast is ready."

You watched him quietly as he changed out of his pyjamas and exited the bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar so that you didn't feel completely alone. Placing a hand on your cheek, you wondered why today, of all days, your heart suddenly decided to skip a beat with every word he said. With every move he made.

It was probably then, that something within you clicked and made you realize that wow, you have a boyfriend.

And you have the privilege of waking up next to him every morning and seeing him smile.

=====

You got out of bed not long after Yuto left the room. The sound of the dishes and sizzling on the stove only made you want to wake up and join him in the kitchen.

When you arrived, Yuto greeted you with a nod towards the coffee brewer, already boiled and ready to serve. On your way to grab a mug, you glanced over his shoulder to see what he was making and sent him an approving smirk.

"Looking good, Yu."

He laughed as you poured yourself a cup of the drink and returned to the table. "Are you talking about me or the food?"

You shrugged. "That's up to you. It could be both, you know."

"Well, you came just in time to eat my beautiful breakfast." He replied and transferred the food onto the plates neatly laid out on the table. His spare hand reached into the drawer behind him to grab the utensils and he handed it over to you. "Time to dig in?"

You puckered your lips slightly as you accepted the food. "Give me a kiss first?"

If the sudden request for affection surprised Yuto, he didn't show it. Instead, he promptly grabbed you by the waist and pulled you in for a quick kiss on the lips. He tasted like the chapstick he always kept with him — a mix of vanilla and strawberries.

"Another, please." You asked when you separated, eliciting another one of his lighthearted laughs.

"Anything for you, love."

The kiss was deeper this time, and you blindly dropped the fork and spoon somewhere on the empty space of the table in order to wrap your arms around his neck. Beyond the sweetness of his lips, you could taste the lingering mix of morning breath and bitter coffee.

"Yuto," You muttered, breaking the kiss. "Have you brushed your teeth yet?"

"That's..." He averted his gaze. "I'll do it later, I promise. Let's just eat breakfast before it gets cold?"

"Okay, okay, you win." You decided, backing off to pull yourself a chair. "Let's test out your chef skills."

The breakfast was delicious and he beamed when you praised his cooking skills. You found yourself settled right beside Yuto, as opposed to your usual seat directly in front of him. With an arm linked into his (which admittedly made eating a little more difficult for both of you), you stayed close to the warmth of his body. Placed in front of you, carefully balanced against the box of tissues was your phone playing a video that you've been wanting to show him for a long time now.

Already knowing what's going to come next, you spent most of the time watching Yuto's face, catching every reaction and comment he made about the video.

It was the mundane things like these that made you appreciate him — or even the concept of dating — even more. Sure, going out on exciting dates, sharing thrilling memories. But being able to see him do the most normal activities while having him by your side? You believed that was the peak of a relationship.

"You have something on your face." Yuto's voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you looked at him in confusion. Before you could register his words, a thumb was already wiping your cheek, clearing you of your mess. "There."

"I love you, you know that?" You blurted out the moment you got over the initial shock.

"And I love you more, you know that?" He cocked his head, mimicking your voice.

You buried your face into your hands, unable to handle his cuteness. "Gosh, you're going to be the death of me."

"I'll make sure to take credit at your funeral, then."

=====

You spent the rest of the day trailing Yuto more than you intended to. But you couldn't help it when everything he did made your heart flutter. It felt like the beginning of your relationship all over again. You were amazed when you realized that you could simply ask him for affection and you would just... receive it?

There really was someone in this world who loved you just as much as you loved them. If you asked for a kiss, Yuto would willingly kiss you — this morning was proof of that. And you knew for a fact, that if you hugged him, he would always hug you back. There was hardly a time where he didn't return the "I love you" when you said it to him. And he never forgets to show you just how much you meant to him.

They were all simple things. Things that you'd normally overlook because they were so normal. But at the same time, they were the things you treasured the most.

This concept of dating... was quite a unique one.

"Yuto~" You called out to the boy who, oddly enough, was just standing in the middle of the room, staring out the window. "Can I have a kiss?"

As much as dating piqued your curiosity, you weren't going to complain about how simple it was at its core.

Without asking any questions, Yuto pecked you softly on the cheek, lingering there for an extra moment. You could feel his lips curl up into a smile before he pulled away.

He turned back to the window and squinted his eyes when the sun shone brightly on his face. "The weather's nice today, kinda makes me want to go on a walk."

"I'll come with you!" You offered readily and he perked up at the idea.

"Is that so? Then I guess that's a good incentive to go on a walk." He hummed.

"Of course I'd come with you!" You argued, following him to the front door and slipping a light coat on. "But on one condition."

"And what's that?"

"Let me hold your hand?"

After his shoes were put on, he quietly held out his hand for you to take, and that was enough of an answer.

======

Later in the evening, the two of you were relaxing on the couch watching a rerun of an old show you've watched far too many times now. But with the comfort of the plot and the way it never failed to make you laugh, neither of you minded.

Yuto let you hug his arm as you played with one of his hands. Like this morning, you found yourself spending more time thinking about him, and the show soon became background noise. You inspected every inch of his hand, placing soft kisses on it once in a while. You thought it was incredible, how every single part of him — both inside and out — could be so beautiful.

"What's up with you today?" He asked playfully when you finally distracted him enough to tear his eyes away from the screen. In the back of your mind, you noticed you were both missing out on one of your favourite scenes. "You've been clingier than usual since morning, did I miss something?"

When you didn't answer right away, Yuto's eyes widened as he suddenly sat straight up. "Wait, I didn't miss something, right?"

You laughed at his reaction and pat his shoulder reassuringly. "There's nothing special happening today, Yu, don't worry. I was just thinking..."

"About?" He relaxed back into the couch and let you pull him into your embrace.

You pondered over how to answer him for a couple of seconds. "About how lucky I am to have you."

"That's it?" He asked, baffled at the simplicity.

"Well, in short, yeah." You hesitantly answered and met his gaze when you felt it burning into you. The look in his eyes was a familiar one; a mix of curiosity and determination as he encouraged you to continue.

"It's normal for me to wake up next to you, and see you go to work, and watch stupid shows together and eat meals together and kiss each other goodnight. I don't normally think twice about all of that. But this morning, I realized that being able to do those things with you is so special and I'm so lucky to have you as my boyfriend."

"You know," He started thoughtfully and laced the hand you were holding into yours, tracing light patterns with his thumb. "I've never thought about it that way until you mentioned it."

"It puts things in a different perspective, doesn't it?"

Yuto's eyes wandered as he spoke. "It does, and it's a nice reminder to appreciate everything that we have right now."

"Exactly!" You agreed, happy that he understood what you were getting at.

"Is this why you've been exploiting my kisses today then?"

You froze. "Uh, maybe?"

"And to think that I was worried about missing something important." He let out a dramatic sigh.

"Listen, this was important okay!"

"I know, I know." He moved your clasped hands onto his lap, pulling you closer to him. "I'm glad you brought it up, it's a nice thing to think about."

The two of you settled into a comfortable silence to focus on the last few minutes of the show, everything long forgotten until the credits rolled across the screen. Yuto shut off the TV once they did, tired of the mindless entertainment and stretched as you spoke up again.

"So... I can still have another kiss though, right?"

He smiled. "Yes, of course, you can."

#newskynet #kdiner #pentagon #pentagon yuto #yuto x reader #pentagon x reader #yuto fluff #pentagon fluff #yuto #adachi yuto #nose-bandaid

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laufire · 3 years

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Thanks to @finnicks for tagging me!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

62. And if all goes well next year there’ll be a lot more!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

69600. The childish part of me has thought about how to make it 69696 to take a screencapture of it, yes.

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. attempt 218

The Good Place | Eleanor/Tahani, Chidi/Eleanor/Tahani

2. bifurcation

Plecverse | Caroline/Klaus

3. game over

Shadowhunters | Alec/Jace

4. tease

The Good Place | Tahani/Vicky

5. darkened underpass

MCU | Rhodey/Tony

I’m side-eyeing this list a little, ngl xD

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I think there’s a couple I’ve shamefully haven’t replied to, but yes, I always try to. I love getting comments and I like engaging with readers, so I look forward to it.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I guess memories are bullets (Isabelle/Raphael, Shadowhunters) it’s pretty angsty by design.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

darkened underpass, risqué business (Discworld, Adora/Moist), quite a few of my Femslash February Drabbles series... I tend to love my open-ish, “things could still happen after this” endings, which makes this questions difficult lol.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I haven’t written any... yet. I try to actively resist the crossover ideas that invade my brain, I have quite enough with the ones that I have for my singular fandoms some. Some of them are pretty insistent though, so it’s not unlikely I’ll end up writing a way too serious Black Sails/Legacies crossover (Billy Bones meets Ablah the Jinni in Skeleton Island!!), OR an appropiately dumb Desperate Housewives/Supernatural case fic xDDD

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not hate-hate, but somewhat annoying comments, yes. I still remember someone that started writing completely unrelated prompts for me to write next lol.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I do, but as for “kind”, it’s hard to say? Whatever the story calls. I haven’t gotten to post that much smut yet; a few PWPs, a longer one in an original story on my writeblr. Some examples were a PWP of a established couple trying something new and fun (Adora/Moist, Discworld); a one-shot about the morning-after kind sad sex between people who should be enemies (Anna/Ruby, SPN); or what’s supposed to be the one night stand of two people that nonetheless connect, find something they needed together, and will eventually be the love of each other’s lives (original work, femslash).

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know ¬¬

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope. I’d love to, I’m. Kind of a translation/languages nerd and I’d be way too invested lol.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope, and I think I’m too propietary of my writing to ever do it lol.

13. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Gabrielle/Xena has a very, very special place in my heart. I haven’t written fic of them and I don’t know that I ever will. Some things are not meant to be touched. OTOH I plan to rewatch/complete my watch of the show eventually, so who knows lol.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Ideally I would love to finish strange bedfellows (Isabelle/Meliorn/Raphael) and forget the hearse ('cause I never die) (post-EG ironfam) one day, but I’ve stopped making promises. I consider the WIPs that I’m invested in at the moment a priority over those, especially wings high over me (but really, all my SPN and Black Sails WIPs lol).

15. What are your writing strengths?

I like to think my strength lies in characterization, in getting the characters’ voices right, both for dialogue and for the narration from their POVs. I also enjoy, and think I’m pretty good, on expanding on those characters, on creating details that enrich them especially when they were more secondary in fandom. Likes, dislikes, interests, routines, etc., that make them pop and feel unique and different from the rest.

I’m also still proud of myself for writing exactly 28 100-word drabbles for Femaslash February this year. I don’t know what I’ll do next year to top that lol.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Finishing things <- keeping that LOL. I juggle to many ideas at once, struggling to get anything done ugh. And I still struggle with action and its description more than I will ever do for characters’ inner monologues, which come far, far easier to me. And I’m the worst when it comes to editing, because when I’m done with a chapter or story, I suddenly get SICK of it and can’t look at it for another moment lmao. I need to either let them rest -which I’m often too impatient to do-, or post them immediately and go back later lol.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I did a couple of sentences in one fic -and the footnotes option in ao3 was a blessing. I know I won’t ever do it in a language I’m not fluent in, that’s for sure. Too afraid of being called out on a bad translation xDD

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

I became a lurker in the BTVS and HP fandoms at the same time, so either of those lol. The first fandom I posted for was Shadowhunters, with innocence, your history of silence and we stand up peerless on the 3rd of September of 2017. Late bloomer xD

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

I think I’ve written about the ships I’d like to write, but I’ve definitely not posted for many of them. Almost none of my Black Sails ones, for one. I really look forward to that.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I recently had to pick a top five here, so I’ll just link to that. Don’t ask me to narrow it down further, please xDD

tagging: @dylanobrienisbatman @donnas-troia @austennerdita2533 @kickassfu @marzipanandminutiae @punishandenslavesuckers and whoever is up for it!

#tag game #talking to the void #me me me #writing woes #fandom nonsense

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haloshornsinkstains · 3 years

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Shiratorizawa Snowball War [Tendou]

ngl, I actually really like this one. pre-relationship Tendou Satori x GN!reader , fluff and snowy nonsense

“Ushi you can’t spike a- Holy Shit! Did anyone else know you could spike a snowball?”

Shiratorizawa is a prestigious school, the entrance exams are difficult and the students it produces are some of the best in the prefecture (even outside of the volleyball club). It means long study hours and a lot of time spent on extra-curricular activities. All of which sometimes makes it easy to forget that you’re all still teenagers, especially now you’re a third year with college prep and the looming threat of graduation, of potential separation from your closest friends. You want nothing more than to cling to the moments of happiness and childish fun while you still can, to indulge in the wild whimsy your best friend can bring out in you with his infectious grin and spontaneous ways. The best friend you’ve been falling for since you met him. Winter presents an unexpected opportunity for hijinks in the form of a sudden heavy snowfall.

You awake to the sound of your phone buzzing, the world outside your dorm carpeted in white. Groggily you lift the phone to your ear, answering the call. “Hello?” “Y/N, my favourite non-volleyball playing partner in crime, have you seen outside?” You perk up at the sound of your best friend's voice, already picturing the wild hand movements he’s probably making while talking to you. With a hum you peer through the gap in the curtains before nearly dropping the phone in shock. “Woah… white.” Tendou cackles on the other end of the line. “Snow! Y/N-chan, we got snow!” Your lips tug up into a grin. “You thinking what I’m thinking Tori?” “Snowball fight?” “Yes! Round up the team, let’s have a war.” You laughed, already picturing the kinds of mischief you could get up to. “It’s on cutie. Meet you at the gym in thirty minutes.” You flushed at the name but just about managed to choke out a confirmation before hanging up, dashing around your room to layer yourself up in preparation for the cold outside. You’d probably end up cold by the end of it anyway, the wet snow no doubt soaking through your layers, but at least you could start the day warm. Checking in the mirror one last time, fiddling with your hair in an attempt to look maybe a little more attractive for Tendou, you dashed out of the door and towards the gym.

“What are we doing here you menace?” “Aww, Shirabae, don’t be like that!” You laughed, stepping into the gym with a broad smile. “Morning guys.” “Don’t call me that, I hate you.” Shirabu huffed, glaring at you and then Goshiki as the first year bounded across the hall towards you. “L/N-san! Tendou-san didn’t say you were coming!” “He didn’t give us any reason as to why we were here at all.” “Don’t be like that Wakawaka!” Tendou pouted, shaking his head at the captain. “I thought it would be obvious.” “It was not.” Ushijima frowned. “It is good to see you again L/N.” You laughed, untangling yourself from Goshiki and walking over to stand beside your best friend, leaning slightly against his warmth as he automatically brought an arm around your shoulders. “So, why did you drag us out here in the cold?” Semi sighed. You and Tendou exchanged giddy grins before replying in unison “snowball fight.” “No. Absolutely not.” Shirabu huffed. “Will it improve our volleyball skills?” You smiled at Ushijima. “You can practice your aim.” “Then I will agree.” “Y/N is spouting nonsense!” Shirabu huffed. “All that’ll happen is we will get cold and wet and miserable.” “Lighten up Shirabae. You’re allowed to have fun.” Semi huffed, having picked up on the nickname quickly. He shot a glare at you and Tendou cackled. “Worried your aim isn’t good enough to get the rest of us?” He laughed, breaking into a tune, his hip bumping into yours. “Shirabae is a coward, too scared to hit us with snow…” “Fine! I’ll do it.” You cheered, grinning happily at the boys as they all nodded in agreement. “It’s war!”

War was a pretty good description for the snowball fight that followed. Volleyball players are, unsurprisingly, excellent shots. Although with their size they also made for great targets, especially the tall and broad shapes of Ushijima and Semi. Tendou was a menace, his intuition allowing him to easily dodge most of the snowballs sent his way (once he stopped instinctually trying to block them). Even Kawanishi was wearing a small smile by the time things really got going. You used your smaller stature to your advantage, ducking and diving out of the path of as many snowballs as you could, and using others as sheilds where possible. You spotted Ushijima tensing up as a well packed snowball flew towards him, aimed by Semi. “Ushi you can’t spike a- Holy Shit! Did anyone else know you could spike a snowball?” The momentary distraction created by the shock of watching the captain spike a damn snowball right into Yamagata’s back was your undoing. Tendou barreled his way towards you, tackling you to the ground and rolling through the snow. You shrieked as you tumbled down, the snow working its way down your neck and chilling you to the core. “Tori! That was playing dirty!” He grinned down at you, his body pinning yours against the ground. “All’s fair in love and war sweetcheeks.” With a huff you grabbed a handful of snow, shoving it in his face. Tendou cackled, the two of you scrabbling about in the snow, much to the amusement of the rest of the team who had stopped fighting to watch you. Finally you admit defeat, laying back in the snow, face flushed from exertion and maybe a little a lot from the pressure of Tendou straddling your hips with a wild grin on his face. You hope he’s too caught in the thrill of victory to notice how flustered you are, at least he doesn’t mention it. You just lie there, staring up into his face and maybe, secretly, hoping this is the moment your life becomes a shojo manga and he leans down to kiss you. To tell you that warm glint in his eyes means he feels the same way you do. He is leaning down though, and you’re almost sure you’re dreaming as he does.

“I think we should go inside now.” The sound of Ushijima’s voice snaps the tension and you bite back a sound of disappointment as Tendou pushes himself off you, extending a hand to haul you to your feet. You brush the snow from your clothes and start to follow the others back, but now you’re no longer running around the chill starts to seep through you, the damp snow soaking your clothes only making it worse. You shiver, rubbing your hands down your arms in a futile attempt to warm up. At least it’s not far to the dorms. “Cold?” You jump at the voice, turning to shake your head at your best friend, even as you teeth chatter and betray you. He rolls his eyes, hands fiddling with the zipper of his own jacket and you shake your head wildly. “You can’t do that Tori! Your noodle arms will freeze off without a jacket.” He pouts a little, though the effect is lost with the affectionate way he smiles at you. “I have a better idea!” You watch in confusion as he unzips the jacket and opens his arms wide, as if asking for a hug. Slowly you step forwards, letting him pull your back against his chest and zip the jacket up around you. It’s ridiculous and awkward but it is warm. The pair of you shuffle along awkwardly behind the rest of the team, Shirabu looks at you like he thinks you’ve both gone completely insane before marching off away from you. Any other day you might think to be offended, but you’re too busy trying to hope Tendou can’t hear your heart racing, or the way the blood rushes in your ears.

They sneak you into their dorms with ease, it’s not the first time and you doubt it’ll be the last, and Tendou finally releases you from the jacket to rifle through his drawers. He throws some clothes your way with a thumbs up. “Change! Or I’m not helping when you get sick.” You flash him a thumbs up in return, ducking out to the bathroom to change before he starts stripping and gives you a nosebleed, or a stroke. By the time you return the boys have set up camp in the common room, wrapped in warm blankets procured from various rooms, mostly Tendous if the various anime prints are anything to go by. He grins at you from his seat, pulling his blanket up and gesturing for you to sit beside him. Gratefully you settle next to the warmth of his body, letting him pull you into his side and wrap the blanket around you both. The exhaustion of a day spent running around in the cold finally starting to settle over you. Somewhere you could hear someone preparing tea, probably Ushijima and Shirabu, they were the most sensible. With a yawn you let your weight fall against the body beside you, closing your eyes, floating somewhere between sleep and wakefulness.

Semi watched carefully from his position across the room, shuffling a bit closer and elbowing his teammate in the side once he decided you were asleep. “Are you ever going to tell them?” He sighed, gesturing towards you. Tendou shook his head. “I can’t. We’re just friends, I can’t lose their friendship, they don’t-” Semi cut him off with a scowl. “For someone who’s usually so good at reading people you’re an idiot. Friends don’t look at friends like that.” Tendou raised an eyebrow. “They look at you like you hung the moon. And don’t think I missed you nearly kissing them earlier. Just tell them you idiot, watching the pair of you pine after each other like lovestruck idiots is disgusting.” Your breath caught in your throat, you knew you shouldn’t have let them think you were asleep but you had to know. And now you did. Covering it with a yawn and faux return to wakefulness, you blinked slowly at Semi, watching as Ushijima and Shirabu appeared from behind him carrying warm drinks, with instructions that you should return to your own dorm once you were warm in case someone found you.

You decided you were going to tell him how you felt on the walk back.

#my writing #haikyuu #tendou satori #tendou x reade #shiratorizawa #semi eita #goshiki tsutomu #shirabu kenjirou #snowball fight #fluff #halo.writes

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