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#and it has come up MULTIPLE TIMES. and I've recently been rolling with it instead of correcting ppl. bc who cares?
sergle · 4 months
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I think my favorite thing about doing ginger red hair instead of cherry red hair is: lying to people about it
#I love the cherry red / wine red and I'll probably go back at some point bc it's my Origin.#but for now.#I don't actively lie to people but bc it's a Natural and Plausible hair color#and I'm already pale and I dye my eyebrows to match my hair. ppl figure it's natural#and it has come up MULTIPLE TIMES. and I've recently been rolling with it instead of correcting ppl. bc who cares?#recent examples that come to mind (but I did correct them in this one) my surgeon assuming it was natural#and using my genetics as a natural redhead as a baseline to tell me about what I can expect from my future scarring#and then again later with the anesthesia. they were going to dose me differently#the anesthesiologist glanced at me when I came into the OR and was getting the stuff ready on his cart#and when he heard me talking to my doc and re-telling him that oh the hair isn't natural#he was behind the curtain like FUCK#taking shit off his cart and quietly redoing his setup#that's how I learned that redheads need higher doses of anesthesia than other ppl.#they also need more of the topical stuff like lidocaine. apparently they metabolize it faster(?)#ANYWAY he was going to up my dose thinking I needed it lol#so i almost got way more sedatives and pain meds than i needed bc of my hair dye LMAOOO#other more Normal Life examples was a country dude in full hunting gear holding a door open for me someplace#and I said thank you and he lifted his hat up to point at his (natural) red hair and said ''twins!''#this one sticks with me because that was such a cute thing to do. what the hell#and at snakefest I was talking to some people at their food truck. there was an older guy who trapped me into a convo for like 30mins#he was Very Nice. and they were going to some type of irish festival next and said I should go too bc I'll be right at home#flat out just was like. this bitch looks irish#and I don't know why all of this is so funny to me. it has no reason to be.
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dailyadventureprompts · 3 months
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I've got a new d&d group and they're almost all new players, with some of them having played with me before in oneshots/ gotten a couple sessions into campaigns that fizzled.
There's the usual learning pains: No one's quite got a handle on the rules yet and is relying on me for which dice to roll ( it's a D20 friends, it's always going to be a D20 unless it's damage I don't know how many times I have to say that). Person A is nervous and over-talkative , person B is nervous and withdraws from conversation, Person C is always running a little late...
But what really surprises me is the difference between them and the group I've had going for 2 years now:
Newgroup THEORIZES in a way that I don't think I've ever seen despite playing this game for two decades. I'll ask them what they're doing and they'll have a multi-minute chat weighing the value of different options. They don't turn to ME, or ask me if things are possible ( which is what new players tend to do), they turn to eachother and ask if they think it's a good idea that they do X or Y and then what could happen from there. I'm trying to be a good DM and let them learn the ropes but it's FASCINATING response. For example; the barbarian says "I'll use my shield to pin the monster in place so we can question them about the villain" and before I can even get into my response another player will say "but what if I used my rope instead to tie them up?", meanwhile none of them have confirmed if the monster is in any way related to the villain or is capable of speech (it wasn't, it was a mimic fyi)
Newgroup is LASER targeted on their goal, which was a surprise as someone who was DMing for a party that purposefully jumped ship on the A plot ASAP and is actively resentful of anything resembling a main quest. Newgroup passes through a mining village that's been deserted after a recent attack by monsters which drove people up into the hills, a Classic rescue mission with a bit of a dungeon delve on top, intended to give the party some XP and magic items before they leave the early game and I stop pulling my punches. Newgroup stays just long enough to confirm that the monsters have nothing to do with the A plot and unanimously decide to leave the village post haste. Meanwhile I have to be careful about what information I drop to oldgroup, as if they catch a single whiff of villanious wrongdoing they'll drop what they're doing and divert their attention to wiping that threat off the map. I've now had to have multiple villains make peace treaties in all but name with this party because of their habit of knocking out rivals/threats/governments.
Because oldgroup know the game really well they're less experimental with what they want to accomplish. They know that things can be solved through class features/dice rolls/damage, and so those are their default solutions to most problems. Meanwhile newgroup has no IDEA what the limits of the game system are so they're trying clever stuff left and right. " Can I hit it in the eye with my arrow? Can I use this spell to find out if _____, Can we use the flying boots to _____?" They're asking genuinely good questions so often that it's made me want to play around with the d20 resolution system to get something more closed to the " drawback/mixed success" sorts of results you get in apocalypse world style games. ( I think I found a neat fix, more on that to come)
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spacedustmantis · 1 year
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Oh glorious Gillion understander, I come to you asking why Gillion is so convinced the thugs killed Jay and Chip but is then so adamant that they go into the hideout like before. Like huh???? Didn’t you just have a nightmare about how that went????
And I bet he’s gonna throw another fit over that when he was literally rolls away from death and any delay would have culminated in certain death.
*holds him gently in my hands then squeezes him with the power of the gods* WHY ARE YOU SO DIFFICULT
see, there's conflict inside gillion. ever since he's come up to the surface it's been there and it's getting stronger by the day. in this specific case it's between avoiding chip and jay being murdered by the gang vs saving the people at the infirmary. or more broadly (and maybe this sounds familiar): keeping his new family safe vs 'doing the right thing'.
he's been raised to be a hero, he's not gonna ignore the arson threat they got just the day before. but he's also starting to disregard 'the right thing' in favor of 'selfish' acts more recently, for example when he ignores the call of destiny to find that leviathan and instead focuses on getting chip and jay to the albatross (after they get him out of the pearl). he needs to save everyone but especially his crew, especially chip and jay.
in his delirious state it's for sure not easy making this decision, and i completely agree with you that he's definitely tearing himself up over the decision he has made. but in the moment he was weak and they promised that their crew would handle it and he believes them. he doesn't have the energy to fight back anyways, we see that clearly multiple times throughout this episode. where usually gillion would push harder for something he feels like he needs to to, this time he gives up as soon as he's being told no, he doesn't have another choice.
also yes i agree that guy is the most difficult guy i've ever had in my brain.
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So, I have a bit of a fondness for TTS, however, there's been something I've been thinking about recently that I have a bit of a problem with in regards to the show.
In my Celestial Garments AU, there are a lot of POC/POC-coded characters (my biracial ass just can't help it), and when that's the case, I like to double check for harmful tropes by browsing the @/writingwithcolor blog. But whilst doing that and working out the relationships between one of my Black woman characters and Raps, I realized something unfortunate about the show.
While I love multiple of the POC characters we get in the show, I noticed that they perpetuate various unpleasant and negative stereotypes, and some of these tropes even bring down the quality of the show by not doing more with certain characters.
Let's go over each of the POC shown in the series, and analyze if/how they feel into racist tropes:
Xavier:
I love this man, since I like wise, mysterious characters like him. But unfortunately, he is 100% a Magical Negro. Half the time, it feels like he is only there to provide wisdom, advice, and exposition for our white protagonists. And that makes me kinda sad, since you could do a lot more with him, even in very subtle ways. Maybe better show how he is a legitimately respected pillar of the community, and don't always have him go out of his way to help. Instead, he'll just be doing his own thing most of the time, or priorities his fellow commonfolk.
But sadly, in canon, that is not the case. Instead, he mainly just pops up to help the white people. We barely know anything about him as a person or his backstory, nor does he have an arc of his own. He's just the wise old guy who's often delegated to being a plot device rather than a fleshed out character.
Lance:
This disappointed me so bad. Personality wise, I don't see too many problems with how Lance is written, though I could be mistaken. But narratively? Oh boy.
Lance is considered a "major character" and member of the main cast, being present in all three seasons and often accompanying the main group. And yet, somehow, he gets very few singing rolls (despite having an amazing voice), no real arc of his own, and very little time in the spotlight.
Cass has a whole song about "waiting in the wings," but Lance is the true one constantly waiting in the wings. I don't even remember an episode that's all about him. He has room for depth, and yet it's never explored.
He also, to my dismay, is constantly regulated to the "Black best friend" roll more often than not despite having so much potential. What is he often described as? Well, he's Eugene's best friend. That's essentially how he was introduced as in his debut. He's a sidekick, and we never really get to seem him lead during their times together. They are supposed to be partners in crime, and yet we mainly see Eugene taking charge, Eugene coming up with the plans, Eugene telling Lance what to do, Eugene getting the final hit in.
It's never Lance who goes first or makes a plan. I'm fine with characters being more followers than leaders, but in terms of duos, I think they should both be able to lead each other.
Honestly, the fanfic writers are better to him than the show ever was. There are fanfics in which he supports Varian and hangs out with Varian, Catalina, and Kiera, but in those, even when he's supporting Varian, there will be a large part exploring how his backstory has caused him to react this way. He gets depth and emotional intelligence and appreciation from the author and readers.
The show rarely explores his strengths and instead chooses to show his weaknesses and flaws, and whilst characters having flaws is great, you need to balance it out a little. The fandom knows that he has some amazing qualities, but the show never highlights that the way they do for the rest of the main cast.
The only times Lance gets to shine is when he's in a fanfic, and that makes me really fucking sad. And even then, part of his role is to support other people. Whilst I love Varian-Lance friendships in fics, it makes me sad that Lance never gets supported. He's always forced to take care of other people, and I have yet to find any fics where Lance is getting lifted up rather than doing the lifting.
It's just really disappointing and noticeable that they mainly do this to the only MOC in the main cast.
Adira:
If how Lance was handled made me feel bad, it is nothing in comparison to the immeasurable disappointment I feel in regards to how Adira was handled.
She was one of the most interesting characters in the series, to the point that I would 100% want a spinoff just about her travelling around and doing stuff. Many in the fandom have even called her the best character in the show, and I can see why. Which honestly makes how they treated her narratively much worse.
Adira clearly had her own personal goals and backstory, but she is still regulated to being the "mysterious Asian mentor". And worse off, her whole role in the series is to guide the white main character around and support her journey. Adira's whole (barely even finished) arc revolves around Rapunzel, and it feels disappointing. She has so much potential, but she is constantly forced to revolve around the white lead.
And once Adira starts having her own stuff (like the thing with Hector), she's quickly taken out of the story again. And then they don't even manage to finish her plotline properly. She has so much potential, and yet she's constantly being pushed aside.
Kiera:
Not completely stereotypical, which is good. I can't think of any stereotypes she fits into, though it does feel a bit weird that her red-head sister gets an episode around her, whilst Kiera doesn't. But at least she's pretty well written (in my opinion). But, I might be mistaken on the lack of stereotypes, so if any Asian folks have anything to say on her, please add more in the replies/reblogs.
The Separatists of Saporia:
Oh Saporia, you poor, underexplored concept. You had so much potential and were so intriguing, and yet this happened to you.
Other folks have commented on the antisemitic aspects of the Separatists and how they are designed, and since I am not Jewish, I can't exactly comment on that much. But I will believe people on that, and even then, I myself have some complaints to make.
Andrew's race/ethnicity is hard to pinpoint (racial ambigious character alert), but he clearly has a lot of ethnic features and there is no way in hell that he is white. And what is this character's main trait? He is a terrorist who has enslaved an entire kingdom. Not a good look for one of our few MOC in the series.
Juniper is one of the only Black woman in the show, and not only does she have little to no speaking lines, but she is also a violent terrorist and seems to fit the "Angry Black Woman" stereotypes, at least from what I remember. She at least always looks pissed off, which is...a choice.
Kai is a large, dark skinned man who is also part of this group of terrorists. A "Scary BIPOC Man", if you will. Great...out of the few brown/black men we have in this show, basically all of them are either big and muscular, or soldier/warriors. That's nice...
So, out of our very small cast of POC, three of them are terrorists. Fun.
Ruthless Ruth:
She is one of the two Black woman in the series, and god am I disappointed. Literally a "Strong Black Woman", and a violent "barbarian" at that. This hurts my soul. I just- I just can't. I can't deal with this shit. Two out of two of the Black women in the show are violent criminals. Why? Just....why?
Captain Quaid:
This guy is only in one episode, and he seems okay to me. I can't remember too much about him, though, so I can't say for sure. If anyone has any comments on him, please mention them in the replies.
Fernanda Pizazzo:
Not sure how to feel about her, but she's giving me "Romani Fortune Teller" vibes, in like, a bad way. I'm not sure how to describe it, but it's there.
Madame Canardist:
I thought Fernanda was bad, and then I saw this character. Holy fuck.
If there is an outline for how to write an offensive caricature of Romani folks, I'm pretty sure some of the crew read it and used it verbatim for writing her. It would almost be hilarious how stereotypical it is, if not for the fact that this portrayal is deeply harmful. -1000/10, very icky no good.
~~~~~~~~~
So, yeah, I mostly love this show, but the way the characters of color are written/designed is very bad and harmful. They are always either caricatures, bad tropes, or have their potential wasted in order to support the white leads. I hate it, and it adds yet another gripe I have with the show.
I just think it's very important to always acknowledge as a fandom the racism in the show. I'm just glad that the fans are better at writing the show than the showrunners, since ya'll have improved a lot of this stuff in your fanfics and stuff.
I'm not sure exactly how to end this post, I just felt the need to make it, especially the parts about how the narrative handled Xavier, Lance, and Adira. They deserved better.
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sugar-vi421 · 2 years
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𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄 | 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘺 𝘫𝘰𝘩𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯
Prologue.
tw: nothing yet.
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A LATE EVENING DINNER
My Parents insisted on bringing me to a fancy place to spend some time together talking about our lives and what's been going on. I loved going out to restaurant's- God just the food...but with my parent sit was a different story, you'll see.
I was sitting across from the two while they handed the menus off to the waiter waiting for them to say something first.
Did I forget to mention that I haven't seen them since they sent me out to college? That was when I was 18. I'm 26 now.
"So, tell me what has my precious daugther been up to these last few years?" Mom asked grabbing her glass of expensive red wine taking a sip eyeing me down while I try to come up with the right words to tell her.
Meanwhile my father has just been sitting there looking at his phone not paying any mind to us.
"Well, Recently I've gotten a new job" I lifted my glass of water to my lips looking into the glass as her face lights up with a smile.
"That's wonderful! Isn't it James?" Mom looks over to her side looking at dad, but he was still stuck on the phone.
She tapped his shoulder while saying his name again to get his attention and he looked up at her putting away the phone quickly into his suit jacket agreeing with my mom even though he had no idea what she was talking about.
She rolled her eyes and focused back on me- "Now, did you get a nice office? You at least need to be comfortable in your new workplace as a lawyer!"
This is what I was talking about when I said it was a different story...
God here comes the judgmental looks.
"Mom I'm not a lawyer, I work for the FBI as a Criminal Behavior Analyst." I said clearing my throat fidgeting with my hands looking back and forth between her and my fingers as I wait for her dramatic reaction.
She's never approved of my interests, I grew up on crime podcasts and documentaries while my older sister jenny went to med school and became a doctor like my parents wanted her too, they also wanted that for me but after I rejected it the first few times, they had just assumed I wanted to be a lawyer instead.
Yeah, me being a lawyer was not happening, I had to deal with enough from my rich egotistical parents and I was and still am not up for dealing with a random client's attitude because they gave all their money to an ex-girlfriend.
It just wasn't for me, but they wouldn't understand that.
Her smile dropped immediately, and she just stared at me for a moment giving me a disappointed look, she put her wine glass down and sighed- "Luci, you know that wasn't the career choice we had in mind for you."  
Dad decided to also cut in adding "We have never judged you for your hobbies Lucinda but really? You can't be serious!" He whispered to avoid causing a scene.
"Yeah, never judged at all" I muttered, taking another sip of my water. So, the multiple times you've told me to stop listening to those "stupid videos" telling me it's a waste of time must've never happened?
In his eyes I must be crazy to go against what they claim to be "my real future" so I can keep the family successful and full of doctors, lawyers and accountants.
While dad keeps trying to change my mind, Mom sits there with her thoughts probably thinking on ways she could still get me to be a lawyer and possibly make me quit my job even though I haven't even worked a single night yet.
She stops my dad from telling me whatever nonsense he was saying that I wasn't even paying any attention to and says "Fine. You don't want to be a lawyer? That's okay." I just stop doing whatever I was doing and shoot her a confused look.
The waiter finally arrives with the food and places our dishes Infront of us, she waits for him to leave to speak up again.
"You want to work there then you're going to be working in a town where I have eyes and ears." She says as she grabs the knife and fork on the side to cut into her steak.
"Excuse me?"-
"You're an adult I know, but I want you to be safe. I want you to take your grandmothers house in Roseville. Since Grandma Millie has passed, I think you should have the house, you were always her favorite anyways..." She takes a bite of the meat on her fork, and I just smile to myself.
Well, that wasn't expected.
My grandma was the best. She always supported me and my interest...I was glad to live in that house. I always loved visiting her when she was there anyways, so this was a positive thing.
I'm still a bit worried about why she's not being unsupportive and furious about this but I'm just going to take it as a win for today and not question it, so she doesn't change her mind.
I smile at her.
"Thank you, mom."
"Don't mention it sweetheart."
After we all finish dinner and my dad pays for the bill, my mom tells me to drive up to the house in the morning and to pack my things tonight, it wasn't so late so I agreed. I said goodbye to them at the restaurant and left.
The drive home wasn't so long, and surprisingly the roads were empty which I was so thankful for because I did not want to sit there for 2 hours waiting on a busy highway.
I got home around 8pm and decided to just get started packing.
-
I opened the front door, dropping my keys in a basket on the side table and started taking off my jacket as I walked over to my room, I put my jacket on my desk chair and sat down. First, I just needed to email my employer about the location change.
"Hey I wanted to notify you that I will be taking a position in Roseville instead of here in the city, I hope you don't mind the sudden change, if anything ill be willing to talk about it.
Thank you."
-Lucinda Sidney Williams
I hit send and sigh, leaning back into my chair closing my eyes for a moment. Tomorrow I'm going to move into the house and start my first shift at my new job after a few nights.
It shouldn't be too bad right?
Whenever I visited Roseville, it was always a nice and safe place, I never really paid any attention to any crimes that had happen over there because I was a little kid, and my focus was spending time with Grandma Millie.
Even if anything did happen to us, she would always be there to protect me and my sister.
At least I won't have to deal with any case that's too crazy, living in Roseville will just be like old times.
What's the worse that could happen in a town like Roseville?
-an
AHH I'm so excited to start this book, and I know this doesn't even have a mention of the killer you all came for but just realize this is the introduction, and please tell me if this sucks or not I need feedback or I'm gonna keep unknowingly writing a terrible book that non of you enjoy. :(
also 1209 words is pretty short so I might work on longer chapters.
TAG LIST :
@infinitewhore @mama-miya @m4gn3ziu @sleepyashe
note to be tagged again <3
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alizardbird · 1 year
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31st December, 2022 | To Lizzy (Age 26)
Hey there! It's me again.
If I told you that the world would be thrown into a global pandemic, I bet you wouldn't have believed me. Yet, that's exactly what happened - in 2020, we were thrust into the COVID-19 pandemic and went through multiple iterations of lockdowns, quarantines, and brief recovery periods on and off for the next couple of years. The worst is somewhat over now and life is returning "back to normal" as we enter into 2023. It is at this point that I'm returning to our little tradition here.
The pandemic years were crazy. I learnt a lot about myself, my friendships, and my family - the good, the bad, and certainly the ugly. I quickly lost the support system I mentioned previously - DL completely cut me off once the pandemic hit. It hurt at the time, but looking back I think we were the support system we each needed to get through the specific hardships of uni. After graduating, there was no longer a need for it and so the friendship had run its course. We're cordial during group hangouts now and that's honestly better than it could've been. I've made peace with it.
While stuck at home, I ended up becoming more involved in church as we ran online services and activities. It felt good to use my audio mixing skills from university to serve the church right from home! I was also able to build a closer community with many, many wonderful people. The term "fellowship" truly became meaningful as I felt closer to God while in this community. This has continued now that we're back to physical services as well! I do wish to be more disciplined in my faith, though. More on that from a future me hopefully!
Let's see... What else is new? Last year I received a call from my lecturer with an offer for a job back at my university! It's not related to what I studied, but instead focuses on project management, social media and publicity work. It has been quite the learning curve (and extremely stressful now that face-to-face events are back in full swing), but so far I guess I've been managing. I don't know how long I'll be at this job, but I can definitely say I've learned a lot and am happy to take these new skills with me wherever I go.
Now, I regret to inform that there is no relationship news to share this time around. I know, I know, this seemed to be part of the tradition, but alas, 'tis not meant to be. I've had some interests in some guys now and again (you know us, we're simps 😂), but it never took off into something more. As I'm getting older and considering relationships seriously, I've decided to just let go and let God. Unless God hits me on the head with a "Lizzy, here he is, please go collect your man", I think I'll just sit tight and work on myself.
Up next, here's an update that would be REALLY surprising to past me's: I go to the gym now! No, I have not been replaced by a foreign life-form, this is real! I've been going 3 times a week, together with AK and M whom we recently reconnected with. Building a habit of exercise has done wonders for my mental and physical health. I'm proud of the progress and look forward to getting stronger in the upcoming year!
So, yeah! I'm sliding into adulthood (albeit haphazardly heheh) and trying my best to roll with the changes that come with it. Truthfully, becoming an adult is pretty scary to me, but I believe God has a plan and I would like to see that plan to fruition.
Until then, take care future me! I believe in you.
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sanghyukstattoos · 3 years
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SF9: sexual expressions
Genres: multiple au's [warnings: brief mentions of death, trauma, anxiety]; fluff-fluff-fluff; smut-smut-smut [contains mention/description of somnophilia kink (gentler than it's description), semi-public sex, baby-making, oral, mutual masturbation]
A/N: None of the images in the collage are mine, refer to here for more; For more SF9, read here, for iKON, read here and for optional bias writings, read here
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Youngbin:
There's something in his expression, that rolls off his tongue when crass bursts of arousal coarse through him, rushing everywhere in such a natural manner, whether he's found something nice or in joy, his breathy moans and gasp-less breaths are something that awaken arousal, specifically yours. At first his moans may be muffled but as he relaxes, he opens up in the comfort an safety of being with you, you whose presence allows him to lower his tense state. To watch you would be his first thought but as your head bobs and you use your hand in a way that makes his back arch and moans fervently spill, he gets distracted, closing his eyes and losing himself in everything that floats around him. At the end, his thighs may quiver but he's already reaching for you, pulling you into his arms. Onto the bed or tent or the sheet that is rumpled in the back of his truck, he slips into you, groaning, sighing an settling into you. He takes his time to start moving, kissing your cheeks as he does. With every rush of arousal, he lightly bites your shoulder, enough for you to feel his teeth but not enough to hurt you. He caresses your backside the most, squeezing the flesh, especially as he releases. But even when you are on all fours, he makes sure to admire your backside, responding to your moans when he softly hits the flesh or uses your waist as a guide along his cock. He'll describe how feels, ''You're so warm'' or something like that, something that wrecks you and also him to pound into you, picking up the pace. When it's the end of a long day and you want to make love, he'll settle with you under the covers and gently rock himself against you, allowing you to vent or just speak to him then, killing two birds with one stone. This is because he knows that both of you will fall asleep immediately. In line with this, there is also something I want to try: Youngbin with somnophilia kink. This won't be as intense as it's description. Two to three hours after the both of you have fallen asleep, he wakes up, with a small desire already in his mind but it's when he sees you that his desires grow and he wakes you, kissing your tired self out of the haziness of falling back asleep. He feels a little guilty yes, but his thoughts are hay-wired at the moment towards you. If you respond to his desires with your vocal agreement, he won't hesitate to slip into your heat, groaning in relief at the way your core swallows every inch of his cock and soon, he'll pound you into the mattress. ''Binnie'', you ask as he slows down to see your sex taking in his cock, he hums, placing his head in between your breasts or on your chest, listening, ''Go faster please.'', which he chuckles and immediately agrees too. When you release and neither of you are ready to fall back asleep, he tugs you towards the window- one of your favourite places to have sex, it was where he took you when you had sex for the first time. Your chest against the glass, he takes you from behind, quietening himself to hear your moans and whimpers and well-demands. Demands which when came from you, he would easily comply too.
Inseong:
His sounds? Beautiful.
I'll try out this idea as well, since you asked about expression during sex: speaking. Perhaps out of excitement, he'll tell you stuff from the top of his head. Sweet words like, ''You're so beautiful'', ''so pretty, my love'', or whisper to you, ''I'm so excited'' always eliciting a a beautiful laugh from you, ''heh, cutie'', you may reply with this nickname which soothes his ears and tickles his sides with excitement. The first couple of time you have sex, he may be serious, furrowing his brows in concentration on how he is feeling. Accordingly, his sounds may alert you to his status, breathy moans are his main type of vocalisation he would let out, maybe when you suck him off or you have sex. He may even struggle on sounds the first couple of time but it's something that he doesn't dwell on too much after speaking to you about it, ''Don't worry, just let out how you feel about it.'' you said and he did exactly that. His type of sex with you is to make every moment last, each significant piece of memory stamped with your intimacy on it. When he eases himself into the comfort of having sex with you, he'll start to tell you jokes, inciting a bright atmosphere between you two. Armed with his jokes, he'll make you laugh and it'll always be something between you two, leading to or being inside jokes, never something from outside your intimate space. He's also the type to make a haven out of you bedroom space, together, you would attach a cover above your bed and leave the lights on, glazing your naked bodies like sleeping in a tent under the stars, except that it is in your bedroom. The space is safe, free to speak each other about anything and everything. During discussions, he would love to hold you, your waist or lean on his elbows and listen to you, about your day and how you are feeling. It's there that you'll make love to one another, setting each other's minds free from the ongoing troubles and/or enjoying your peace. He's got a nickname for you, maybe something from your name that he'll tell you really sweetly when he starts his conversation with you as he enters you. He'll pay attention to your sounds, ''You feel good baby?'' is his question, filled with his innocence behind them. You nod. ''Fuck- I feel so good baby'' is one of them, he'd whimper it out, followed by his stuttering moans, open and filling your ears. He sounds absolutely beautiful. ''Seongie, let me take care of you'', ''You don't have to baby'' he'll say and if you do continue, he'll go on to then lose himself in the pleasure you give, you curiously peeking eyes at his state that once your eyes connect, he doesn't leave your gaze.
Jaeyoon:
Regal Jaeyoon
He's got it out for you in the most playful way possible. He could've met you just yesterday, last week, two months ago or you've been childhood friends, regardless he sees the beauty in you. He's got many sides to him as does everyone, but unlike being around them, he understands that he can freely show them to you for example, his anger which would not be a suitable look on the king-to-be. When he's angry, he paces around in the study room before thinking that he should ask you for your opinion. So he comes to your room in the palace or picks you up outside your house, sitting side by side on the stone sculptures that are topped with granite to make for a seat or just to hang by when looking outside, swinging his legs. His hand on the cool granite and yours are not far from one another, he wishes to hold your hand and to hold you in his arms but he's not sure, he would want you to be okay with it first. But how does he get there? You can bet that he'll chase you around the market, his heart beating extra fast when he catches you. Having just recently figured out his feelings for you, he hesitates to tickle you as he usually does, instead he feels the need, the desire to connect your lips. His lips are soft and warm and he tastes of a fruit he just ate, apple or mango slices and to him, your response is everything. Your hands wander up his coat lapels, reaching his shirt collar and tugging him closer, lovingly. He giggles when you break away and he can't stop the smile that lights his whole expression, looking at you with possibly all the love in in his eyes and he doesn't notice that this occurs whenever he looks at you. ''Jaeyoon...'' you start, chuckling when he's just about to kiss you but then he pulls away to hear what you have to say, nodding to tell you that he's listening. You laugh at his adorable movement, bringing him closer for another kiss, ''I have so many questions'', ''shoot!'' he adorably says but you shake your head instead, wrapping your hands around him and the two of you bring yourselves together, under the bright summer lights and muffled screeching of seagulls arguing over who gets the last bread crumb.
I'm not sure if Jaeyoon's one for semi-public sex or not, I've been quite conflicted in my thoughts about this. He may not be or he may be, especially if he's horny for you, more often that not, in places he shouldn't do. Imagine that you are moving to a new place, your sofa is strapped at the back of the moving truck. He's going to drive you but he's not ready to move the truck all morning. He'd let you know that he's in the mood by having you in his arms and well grabbing your ass, dipping his hand in between your thighs, ''y/n, I want you.'', he'd say, plain and simple. You'd kiss and kiss till he's settle you down on the sofa, the truck parked in between two tall structures on a sun-out, non-traffic studded cobble road. ''Really?'', you shouldn't be surprised as you look at your boyfriend rolling on the condom and entering you, ''Really?'', ''yes'', he says laughing, ''Yes baby, god I love you so much.'', he's overcome with emotions. He loves when you grab his ass during sex, especially when he has you under him, filling you up with his cock till he's released and is looking around, tugging his trousers up. He gives you his hand, leading you into the front seats. For whatever reason, he doesn't let go of your hand, ''So you going to drive or?'', ''I'm not sure that we should leave right now.'', ''We need to be there by noon, it's already oh!- five thirty. We have to leave now.'', ''Okay'' he nods, picking up the pace to your new house. You unload all your stuff into the house and then, it's the cardboard boxes. He's looking around, trying to make this work. At the back his mind, he knows that he's going to help you unpack and maybe even move in with you but for now, he's a little distracted. You can't help but ask, ''Babe'', ''Huh?'', ''What's going on? You are just staring at the boxes'', you say smiling when you spell it out. ''I'm just uh- come here?'', you go over, going to look at something. He sits on one of the boxes and pulls you onto his lap, placing soft kisses along your neck. The ache in his groin stirs and he groans into your neck. The image of you having sex moments ago is still engrained into his head, your sweaty skin and visual expressions, sounds are still on his mind. He gently slips your open shirt over your shoulders and your bra strap along with it, placing a kiss on your breast, hands wandering up and down your waist all the time. ''Don't stress over the move, you've got a lot of time.''. The moment is forever in your mind, fresh or not, it's a significant period of time, the time in between a few moments ago and getting accustomed to your new house. You manage to find a place outside, on the lawn with it's fresh grass, your clothes off and him making love to you. All the energy he had before comes back, as the sounds of hips snapping against yours can be heard as compared to his words, ''You're so beautiful'' and other random mumblings about you. It's too sweet. The scene I imagine now is that you are riding him in your new background, his back on the grass and you circle your hips, steadying yourself on his toned tummy. His moans sound sweet, just like when he whines softly, muffled, stuttering ever so often. When he's close and the snapping of your hips grow quicker, his moans get more breathy and the look on his face is one as a result of his closeness to releasing. The look of his as he releases could best describe the phrase, 'like the crashing of waves on a summer day'.
Dawon | Lee Sanghyuk:
Oh, what a cutie! His part in Fanatic!
I have an inkling that he sounds pretty when he's in his element of safety and comfort around you and especially, with you. Let's take our imaginations somewhere, possibly fun!: With his regal stage outfit, the one of blue and white, imagine that you meet him in Narnia, transported via the painting. The room that was once filled with water from the Sea on High Waters painting leaves you and washes you onto a beach of an island, dry. You are surprised but also pleasantly happy to be back, it's been some time since you've seen your relatives. Forward, there's nothing for miles except for water, happily splashing around in the midst of a summer day where breeze gently blows past your ears. Behind are walls of rock of an impossible feat, at least to climb. Further on top, you have to squint to see, there are the unmistakable green flashes of leaves and trees with sways a result of stronger breeze. On this beach is where you meet Sanghyuk. He's dressed in a way that a royal would, if not, that's how he walks, along with his soldiers. The buttons to his sleeveless blue coat are open and his crew look tired, as if it's been a long journey here. ''Excuse me, who are you?'' he asks customarily, not sensing any danger. His soldiers hang back but not too far. ''I'm...'' but you are lost for words. How do you explain it? Crowned by Aslan? You have no idea who they are. ''Come with me" he says, looking here and there, urgency in his tone. It's funny how he disarms your cautiousness, with his honesty and personality- humour that goes straight to your heart. ''Give me a minute'', he mentions to one of his crew members and with that, he shows you past the railing of the huge boat. It has it's name engraved in white right below you but you can't make out it's name. ''See, after we crash landed- the storms'' he clarifies, ''we've been stuck here''. He smiles even as he says it and then you realise, even in such a terrifying situation, how beautiful his smile is. He's optimistic, it should help with the rest of your journey, you think. And it does. You begin. Just before you make your first stop, you encounter magic in the form of gold, so much gold just scattered all over the valley. A trap. Anybody who came here died. You found skeletons under all of it. ''We need to get out of here'', at that moment, dust swarms your vision in a regulated dance, as if it has had time to practice on all the people that came before. You collectively shudder at the thought but at the end, you live. It is your bravery and ever longing passion to fight for what is right that impresses him. Along the way, you tell him the truth, one secret for the other except that it's not a secret and neither of you have anything to hide. Because it's something to be hidden either. You get to know one another after that, introduced properly after your revelations. You find somewhere inside the forest to rest, on a thin sheet, here to rest for the night. You are anxious. He hovers over you, running his hands up and down your arms. Soothing you, that is the feeling, with him it feels safer, almost as if your anxiety about the previous fight has been sucked away, into the lost abyss of any voice in this forest. His crew members are searching. ''Look at me'', he says, softly, like a command but sincerely, ''Does it work on your crew, when you speak to them like that?'' you tease softly from under him, curiously committing his features to memory. Out of all your adventures, this one was going to be your favourite, you could tell. ''If they knew..'' he trails off sweetly kissing your neck, ''They would never leave me alone.'', he ends with a chuckle. You chuckle at it too. You take in a breath and it occurs to you that as much as you are relaxed, you haven't taken a breath in a while. He eyes you, keenly, wondering if you should be okay with this. Your secrets are out in the open and he has no reason to worry, the last thought along calms him. ''Less talking Hyukie'', you murmur, grappling at his coat lapels. He perks up, it is because of the name. That name, he thinks, uttered
so softly, containing so much love. It is as if you read his mind that you murmur once again, ''Hyukie'', ever so softly now, drawing him upwards and connecting your lips to his. The world is silenced, it's noise drowned out as well your tension, long forgotten now. He loves the nickname. It stirs him up, the way you say it, how you say it, he wants to keep hearing it. Then is the other concern that he will never see you after this, that you will be transported back to the world beyond the painting you came from.
He pushes it away as he reveals your top, exposing the curve of your breast ever so beautifully. And then he makes the brave move of uncovering your breasts, lingering his lips over the supple skin. Your stretch marks or not, your tattoos or not, or not, he kisses the skin, taking your perky bud into his mouth. He makes you gasp, swallowing the bud into his mouth and flickering his tongue around it. It's so arousing. There's a fire in your belly, of all the things he does to you, he cares for you. There's enough room for that. The most poignant is his voice, his groan when he's entering you, holding you and gasping at the unholy loving expression on your face. There are some things about you like your moans as he makes your toes curl and his face when you release for the nth time throughout that would make him release, immediately, on the spot, if he were to ever witness it if the two of you were not under such circumstances. He wants to hold you close to him, to relish in these moments he has with you because he doesn't know when it's going to finish, the expedition or- what the two of you have. So he does exactly that, gasping so prettily when you straddle him, ''You're so pretty you know?'' you can't help but say. Everything about the way he sees you right now, through hooded eyes that struggle to stay open because he wants to see, to commit, your waist that he holds as he guides you up and down on his cock, the way your breasts bounce, your expression and how you can't hold in your moans. From this position, you feel him in deeper, he moves his hands from your waist to holding your own, gently coaxing another release out of you. He takes in everything and moves in tandem with you, like two people on opposite sides of a street, instinctively walking when they see the signal turn green. Visually, he absorbs everything which is why, he couldn't be finished, not now. You lay in his arms, awake at almost six in the morning when the sun is barely peeking out from behind the mountains. You have a conversation about moments before when he awoke to you rustling your trousers on. He has his arms wrapped around you, like he doesn't want you to leave and from you confessing that you like him moments earlier, you suspect that you won't go now. His insatiability comes back when confesses that he likes you to, swathing you in his kisses, making you moan and grab him everywhere as you ask him of all the things he would gladly do for you.
Rowoon | Kim Seokwoo:
Possible au?, I'm in love with au's these days: I suspect that Seokwoo would introduce you to his cabin that is not to far away from civilisation. He could have met you as a new neighbour who recently moved into town and someone you grew close to very quickly or more towards the angel/demon au trope, he rescues you from a little accident which explain why he lives where he lives, there is nobody to bother him but is close enough for him to gather supplies. Truthfully, you could think of anything but the main principle applies: he is someone that you can trust and a person who lives in a balance of ambience and peacefulness whilst having fun. Every resident is excited since winter usually prolongs the days, making it seem as if its been cold for very long which some people enjoy and some people don't. Either way, summer dwindles the ice on the tree leaves, reducing it to puddles but it also brings out the playful sounds of birds and children and adults playing in the parks. If you are the new resident, he makes it a point to show you around, the parks, the offices, the restaurants, places to shop and relax. He also catches feelings for you, much more in a slow burn kind of way than fast falling and right from the start. Little touches or closeness makes him pause a beat and think about what he felt but sometimes he doesn't get that chance of thinking. It just occurs-when he's flustered. Say for example that you touch his hand or stand close to him, the proximity rises pink onto his cheeks, a prominent colour on him. You definitely go on a trip together, maybe a picnic on a day that is not particularly windy. This is different from meeting up outside of work or going on little adventures to the restaurants to try out a new cuisine or the pub or for shopping groceries. It's possible that he may not be shopping for himself but he'll accompany you where you go. All the times you go on a picnic are special to him, especially if you make some food for it, he'll appreciate it gladly but if you don't, he'll make it a point to make something. If you feed him, be assured that at first he may pull back but will like it very much, like the type that you love on second tries and continue loving it. It's then at the picnics that he'll gravitate towards what you like, he's curious in your tastes for example cotton candy or sweets or what games you like to play and your life before you came to this place. At pubs, you know what you like but he's not afraid to try out something new. It may be something that he'll want to share with you. Going to the pub becomes a thing when you want to speak to the other, tell each other about your day and eat and drink but most of all, to see the other person. Grocery shopping is well, the domestic side of him that makes you melt with his recommendations after staying in the place for so long that he knows what's good and what's not. It's only after you acknowledge your feelings for one another that he dwells on his sexual feelings for you, growing them one by one.
His voice is husky and it feels weird for me to describe it in this way but very naturally, it's a part of him. A part that you love. When he sees you from the back and surprises you, his voice makes it never sound like a surprise. Instead it soothes the tense posture you immediately assumed when you felt a figure come from behind you. His hugs are bear hugs, that he showers you with constantly, when he sees you, to hold you when you are upset and even when he is. When he nestles into your neck on a gloomy day, he can feel his stress seep away and bring something better- calm. It only goes to say then that when you make love, he loves to hold you in his arms, thrusting into your core. His moans make your feverish with delight, with a reflection of the icy weather melting into little puddles. It also become something that the two of you do, mutual masturbation, when you make out and as if on cue, you giggle and pull part. You lay on your back and he hovers above you, stroking his cock, small, breathy moans falling from his lips at the wonderous sight in front of him. At first if you are shy, he'll coax you softly with his voice, whispering, ''You can do this'', that little edge that it takes to soothe your mind and give it a go. In his eyes, you are a beauty and to see you fill yourself with your fingers makes him have to hold onto something, like grip the end of the bed or it's sheets tightly. After you release, he may take you to some other part of his cabin, maybe the kitchen to eat something but distracted by your naked body will he rub his cock in between your ass cheeks, putting you onto the counter and taking you from behind. In the way that makes your mouth fall open.
Zuho | Baek Juho:
Frustrated typing at his keyboards fills the room drawing a raise of your eyebrows half way up your forehead at the absolute demolition you hear. He leans back in his chair, sighing, ''You know, when was it?'', ''hm?'' he turns to you. The same chair he uses for producing, you are currently in his studio. ''Jaeyoon said that you couldn't game because you would... destroy the keyboard.'' and you have to laugh at this. He pretends to be unimpressed but a small smile peaks up in automatic response to seeing you smile. After seeing his expression, you laugh even more, his arms are crossed and he's staring at you as if to say, ironic but he won't say it out of a false hope at retaliation. You were pretty good, alright but to him, it was wonders! How could you do such stuff?! Moments later, he quits the game and opens a file, the studio grows peaceful as the keys of the keyboard are tapped in near silence, a huge contrast to the clickety-boom!-clackety of before. You grow bored. Feet shuffle from behind him and onto his lap, distracting him from his hold on his mouse and screen, your figure covers it. He smiles, innocently, very cutely in fact as you play with the material of his jumper, feeling his embrace bring him in-line with your chest which he nuzzles into. He sighs, asking, ''do you want to take a break?'', eliciting a yes! in thought and sound, tugging him to the sofa. The sofa is... comfy. You lay on it, extending your arms. He settles into them, hugging your waist and resting on your tummy. ''Ju?'', you ask, waiting a beat, ''How is it going?'', another way of asking his progress on the song, further leading to when you can listen to it. It's as if he knows your true questions because he says, ''Soon'', voice muffled by his hiding in your tummy. He pulls your top up, staring for a beat with a look that takes your breath away. His eyes... they marvel in deep thought that you think you know what he's about to ask you for your ''talk'' later. Your breath is taken away. You know what he wants to say, it's on the tip of your tongue but you can't voice it. Surely, you want to hear it from him even more. You would marvel even more then. ''Let's have that talk now?'', your breath hitches, pauses in your throat. He's got more reasons to come inside of your now and the thoughts makes your core ache. You squeeze your thighs together out of reflex. You sit up and so does he, his hands rests on your thigh. You can feel the heat from his legs that are so close to yours, suddenly becoming aware of his cologne that invades your senses. He reaches for your hand, eyes wide, looking around before he starts, ''Babe, I-'' but stops short. You hum, realising that it's importance made him pause. You give him an encouraging look, ''Go on, just say it, blurt it out, anything baby'', squeezing his hand in comfort. He sees your eyes, the love they have in them and he just says it, without a pause or hesitation. ''I want to have a baby, with you of course.'', he says and the last part provokes laughter. ''A baby?'', you ask, he nods, ''With me?'', now he sees that you are teasing and pulls back, ''But why? Why with me?''. Your laughter and playful teasing ease the tension he feels. At least you aren't averse to the idea. When you stop laughing, you reach to cusp his cheeks, ''Baby, I'd like that idea.''. Those words are enough for him to lose his mind. He thought that this decision would take time, weeks if not for just one day but his questions have been answered. Just like that, his shock wears off. It takes him less than a second to pull you up and start jumping around, out of pure joy. He sobers up pretty quickly though, must faster than you anticipate, he's pulling his stuff off the table, switching off the lights. ''Home?'' you ask, taking the lead. When you get into the car, you say, ''This is kinda funny, we couldn't possibly be running home for this.'', ''Why not?'', ''There's no expiry, at least not for now. We've got... time.'', ''Yes?'', ''Yes'' you confirm, nodding your head, heading home. ''Also, why are we going home?'' you ask,
''What do you mean?'' he replies, not believing why you have no idea that you're leaving his studio early. ''It feels weird to leave early.'', you want to stop over somewhere. He sees your anxiousness, ''Lets stop over the station and buy something to eat.'', pointing at the turn. When you get out of the car, you can finally breathe, leaving the anxiety accompanied by your decision earlier. He takes your hand, holding your cheek and pulling you closer. He needed to do this. To give you a kiss which he first places very delicately on your cheek and then on the corner of your lips, finally on your lips. The moment is everlasting. He cups both your cheeks, gently, kissing you lovingly as if to say a multitude of unspoken things.
*sigh*, dear anon, I did it again: I strayed off-topic. I should be ashamed but the above writing is gold so I will include the little titbits after this: Ju's voice colours everything he feels, even if it's just a little bit, his hands may twitch or he'll sound a low sound that will alert you of what he's feeling. His best sound is when he gasps, it's not too much neither too little. He throws his head back and his back arches, it takes a small breath for him to resume. The scene I imagine as I write this is him receiving a blowjob. Otherwise, he would love to try out having sex in new places with you. Against the counter? Having you lean against it as his cock fills you up? Slowly, lovingly? He's all for it, whatever or wherever you imagine yourself to be, with him.
Yoo Taeyang:
We'll start from the end: when he releases, his soft pants are capturing, distracting you even a little from your agenda of releasing your juices around his cock. His favourite position to have you ride his cock with your hands clutching his waist, circling your hips on his, he can't control the haziness that cloud his expression. His hands wander a lot though, to your nipples, pinching them but ever so often, he feels like tasting you. Having you in his mouth, to swirl his tongue around and relish in the beauty of how you taste. He brings you down, close to his chest so that he can take your bud in his mouth, ''I neglected this didn't I?'' and at your whines, he nods, chuckling, ''I'm sorry about that...'', trailing off to add extra vibration of pleasure that travel straight south. He's charismatic, without even trying.
Imagine another set of scenarios: Taeyang punishing. It's at a party, in a house containing lots of rooms save for the fact that the party is only on the first floor, you know that it's progress to the upper floors throughout the night. He takes you somewhere remote, messily clashing his lips against yours, tugging at your clothes. You've moved past the need for words. On your knees, you take his cock, bobbing your head and for the god lack of co-ordination, you stumble at first but he's quick to reassure you that you can do whatever for the first couple of times because he'll teach you well. His yelp is disappointingly loud when you playfully run your teeth along his cock and you peer up, to see his heated eyes, out of annoyance. ''On purpose?'' is the question that his expression seeks to answer but to which there is no answer. His moans are concealed when his hands land harshly on your ass, his cock red and hard no doubt. But instead, you pant and so does he, his breathing heavy and he struggles to stop just to fill you up. There's a hint of body worship that peeks out there, running his hands up and down your body, even into the dip in between your legs, coating his fingers in your juices. He loses control for a bit there, turning you around and kissing you with such high energy. His feelings for you- all over the place. In surprise, to contrast his previous energy, he gets down on his knees. He wants to. One leg over his shoulder, he dives in to taste your juices, placing kitten licks everywhere before pumping you with his digits, sucking greedily and only after he's wrecked you with one release or more as seen by your quivering thighs and shaking body but heated for more does he come back on top. If you don't think that you could release one more time, he's completely okay with it, equally loving your mouth on his cock that pushes him over the edge, once again with sheer force.
How about a best friends to lovers au now?: The suspect of loving you in this long-winded game is Taeyang, long-winded as in the past couple of months you've gotten to know one another. He's straightforward, to tell you that he likes you when the chance is there, an electric energy present, just before the two of you are about to kiss. He tells you how he feels about you. From there, your words satiate his nervous composure with relaxation. He kisses you, somewhat compose, majorly giddy from your confessions. He kisses you till your back hits the covers, passionately. Kissing your breasts (or chest), he loves to uncover you, to take his time, rocking his hips against yours in a pace that is just in between making love and fucking, he'll take your hot skin into his mouth, nipping and sucking and then hold your hands above your head, when a release rips through you. His groans beautifully grace your ears when he releases, kissing you once again. He would settle in beside you, giggling about what just occurred with a smile so shiningly bright or go to sleep and then wake up later to explore your attractions to one another, once again.
Hwiyoung | Kim Youngkyun:
Kyun has attitude
I'm sure that it may be not what you asked for but what is this blog without my ramblings??: When you first have sex together, he reaches for you. To touch you, to feel you and to remember every intimate moment he has with you. He'll feel your body, every part of you, your cheeks, chest, waist, tummy, inner thighs, backside and even places where stretch marks and/ or tattoos lie because those are personal to you. He'll show you and perhaps even tell you that your body is beautiful, multiple times. A beautiful session of making love follows. Where every moment is spent in each others arms as he fills you again and again, revelling in the sounds you make, Your cries, moans, whimpers incite him to hold you and continue his love-making.
His sounds vary but the majority are audible: his grunts when he enters you, his moans when he holds the headboard as he fucks into you or his cries that he let's out into the crook of your neck as you ride him. When he receives a blowjob, he doesn't hide his moans but it's not about hiding, he wants you to know. All in all, his sounds are low in tone, very pretty and arousing.
A little story for you, dear anon: It's summer! Unlike the others, this one is comparatively cooler. The breeze blows past your cheeks. You return home to find Youngkyun with an apron tied around his waist, delicately chopping the food and placing them into the utensil. The apron is an adorable sight that crinkles your eyes. For your boyfriend that regularly throws gang signs, it adds to the overall clarity of his cute demeanour. "Babe" you start your greetings but upon seeing you, he immediately throws off his apron and comes towards you, eliciting peels of laughter from you. He picks you up and places kisses all over your cheeks, ''I missed you'', he says, pouting. At your smile, he takes you to the bedroom, placing you on the bed. You wait, smiling, he's changing, ''Right now?'', ''Right now'', he nods, energy on full blast. He straddles you, placing smooth kisses everywhere, ''You are so pretty, you know that?'' he whispers, taking off your top and bottom. "Babe, really, how was your day?" you ask, the both of you laugh at the question as you switch positions, straddling him instead. Filling yourself up with his cock, you hear his little grunt upon entering and a sigh of relief comes from the both of you when he's completely in. The sounds he makes is beautiful in every tone. His hands on your backside guide your hips along his cock and ever so often, he let's out these pretty high-pitched moans, throwing his head back and swallowing all the arousal flooding through his body. You chuckle, moaning in his mouth as you give him a soft kiss. After you release, droplets of sweat can be seen on both of you and pink clouds his face, heated. Panic sets in his features. "What's going on-?" you ask, he doesn't move but points to the door, "the food". "We have to go save it", you say, little, displaced confessionals occurring now. You go to the kitchen and while he assesses for damage, you lean on your elbow, peeking at him in his naked form. It would very hard to argue with him if he was naked, you think. He nods, picking you and placing you on the counter, cuddling you. The moment could last forever. In between your legs, he doesn't bother with anything but laying peacefully in the crook of your neck, "Baby, I love you, I also feel like this was overdue", you chuckle, "of course not peach, I love you too" you say. A beat later, he kisses your neck, not hesitating to take a little bite that draws a laugh from you, ''Kyun!'', ''huh, babe?'' is his honest reply as he continues, till his mouth has reached your core.
Chani:
He grasps the back of your head, gently easing you along his cock. Eagerly, he watches your mouth swallow his cock, his own growing dry at the sight. A slight twitching to be expected, you chuckle at the expression on his face, ''Chani'', you take yourself off his cock, snapping his attention to you. Truthfully, he was so aroused by the sight, he lost himself in it. You chuckle, brushing away strands of hair from his face. ''What is it?'', you ask to which he responds by taking you hands in his and squeezing ever so subtly to let you know that nothing is wrong, ''I was just staring, I'm sorry-'' he goes to apologise but you shake your head, already knowing that he was absorbing the visuals. He is surprised that his mouth works, could he even speak after watching something so heavenly? He's not sure that words could be formed. He leans on one hand, sitting on the bed with you in between his legs, taking him into your mouth once more, eliciting a groan from him, soft to begin with, accompanied by the scrunch of his nose at the feeling of warmth. He looses him hand on the back of your head when he feels like he's about to fall on his back. Your hands slowly trail up his inner thighs, squeezing the flesh along the way, pumping his shaft to kitten lick his tip, a trail of saliva coating your mouth and connecting to his tip. His eyes, although occasionally close out of pure arousal, he makes sure that they are open. By the time he's about to release, a layer of sweat lines his pink-dusted, heated temples. When he's close, his moans grow louder and he pants, making unconfigurable noises. The words that he wants to tell you, how he's feeling, how good you are for him and to him get strangled in his throat, instead coming out as muffled noises and quivering thighs. If you let him release into your mouth, he collapses on his back after as you straddle him. After a few moments, he would be in the mood to eat you out and have sex with you after. If you take him out of your mouth and pump him, he would prefer to release all over your backside, your butt that he'll repeatedly squeeze and even take a bite out off when he eats you out before he fills you up. He's ready to make love with you, surprising you and himself with his energy, pent-up, ''I'm surprised'', ''About what? This?'', ''Yes, very much.'', ''Babe, look at me.'', ''Huh?'', ''After sleeping for half your life, you have accumulated these reserves of energy...'', ''Babe please'' he says, stifling his laughter at your teasing.
For his sounds, he could also be non audible. For whatever it is that the two of you are doing, he could be exploring what he is feeling, especially the first couple of times that he has sex or receives a blowjob or mutually masturbates, a new situation.
How about a detective Chani au?: He's a rough character, particularly because of his past experiences in his job, naming more death than life, he once found it hard to stay afloat all the floating bodies in his nightmares. He's been there and he's not willing to go back, he's struggling and he knows. In this au, you are a random stranger, cross-pairing from a different department to hunt down a very articular group of organised crime. Around you, his control on his behaviour slips, like his physical affection and how much he speaks, he guards himself on a daily basis, stubborn to keep it that way. He fights with you, demeaning you and when he hears your words, they ring in his ears and also bring about a familiar, painful feeling in his chest. Even when he kisses you. He's rough, pushing you on your hands and knees, taking you from behind. Then, unconsciously, he brings you to his chest when he realises that you must be close and praises you, ''You're doing so well''. He also realises that he wants you by his side. You don't pretend to know who he is, despite his true horror stories of dead backlogging teams and ruined missions, unlike the people he works with. Guilt long suppressed clouds his chest, it's a weird feeling, even when the two of you are done and you take him into your arms. He's crying. You give him some space. He looks up when you come back into the room with water and some tissues, ''Here, tell me why you've been such a dick.''.
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honeyedhoseok · 3 years
Text
Blue | 01
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genre | jeon jungkook x reader; lifeguard!JK but this isn't really a lifeguard fic; soulmate!au if you squint; smut; angst
word count | 9.9K
summary | that summer with jungkook was blue--a shade that carries with it a tinge of melancholia that you should have accepted from the beginning.
or,
to say that you fell in love with a color was an overstatement, but to say that you fell in love with him was an understatement.
a/n | i've been writing this to avoid my responsibilities. hope you enjoy! <3
series masterlist
It rained the first day Jungkook worked at the pool.
You’d heard the news of a few new lifeguards starting that day, but you’d been too busy serving ice cream at the snack bar to really get anything other than a quick glance at the lifeguard stand before you were locking eyes with the next greedy customer in line.
It was the beginning of summer, with the air sitting hot, dry and heavy on the normal patrons of the pool: older moms who sunbathed and gossiped with their friends while their kids splashed in the shallow end and gave the lifeguards something to do. Teenagers too cool to actually get in the pool littered the sides, only dipping their feet in while using expensive Ray Ban frames like a headband to hold their hair out of their eyes while they talked with their friends.
The forecast had mentioned some scattered storms, but normally that just meant getting everyone to come inside for a few minutes until it passed. The storm that day, however, had plans of sticking around a little bit longer.
You were passing a cup of strawberry shortcake soft serve out the window when the first clap of thunder sounded, followed by a lightning storm that sent the lifeguards in a tizzy. Multiple whistles blew at the sudden appearance of a storm, and the atmosphere was a rush of splashing and commotion as people made their way out of the water and to their belongings scattered in chairs on the sides.
“Well, that came out of nowhere,” your coworker, Jihyo says, sidling up beside you to look at the clouds looming over what was supposed to be a normal day at the pool. “Wonder if we’ll get to go home early?”
“I hope not,” you reply. “I need these hours, damn it. The Blooming Festival is in a few weeks, and I plan on taking off at least three days to soak it all in.”
Jihyo rolls her eyes. “Yeah, you’ve only mentioned it, maybe, every day I’ve worked with you so far?”
Serving ice cream at the pool was just a summer job. You were working there to make some money so you could do things with your friends, put gas in your car, and occasionally splurge on a new outfit or pair of shoes. It was supposed to be as normal as every other summer you’d worked there in between college semesters—until he showed up.
In fifteen minutes, the pool was shut down completely; all of the patrons were packed up and back in their cars after an announcement from your manager that the storm was forecasted to not let up for at least another hour and a half.
“Oh, we’re definitely going home,” Jihyo says, shutting the serving window and twisting the lock. “When’s the last time Seokjin shut down the pool indefinitely?”
You purse your lips, leaning back against the counter behind you and looking out at the pouring rain behind Jihyo. The wind was starting to pick up now, leaves and debris filling the once-clean surface of the cerulean water of the pool.
You start to make a bitter remark but the sound of heavy, slapping footsteps cuts you off, followed by a loud pounding at the back door. Jihyo looks toward the source of the noise with furrowed eyebrows, tilting her chin up stubbornly.
“More twelve-year-olds coming to demand that we restock Moose Tracks?”
“Hey, Moose Tracks is a classic!” you call at her back as she goes to unlock the door. “It’s not their fault you keep picking unpopular flavors to order each week—like Mint Chocolate Chip!”
The back door opens, and the shop is suddenly flooded with voices following Jihyo back into the small space.
“MCC is the goddamn classic, Y/N,” Jihyo says, stomping back into the conversation like she never left off. “Don’t ever bash it again, or I’ll stop ordering Sea Salt Caramel for your uncultured ass!”
You want to laugh, but you’re too distracted by the hoard of boys—lifeguards—trailing behind her. Yoongi and the two new guys crowd your space suddenly, and you find yourself backing up into one of the corners and trying not to look as embarrassed as you felt for just arguing with Jihyo over ice cream flavors, of all things.
The boys are soaking wet, puddles collecting at their feet on the tiled inside of the kitchen, but they seem unphased by it as they huddle in. Thankfully, one of them comes to your rescue.
“I’m with her,” he says, giving you a nod. His smile fills up his whole face as he talks, making his eyes turn into little crescent half-moons. “Sea Salt Caramel is where it’s at.”
The other lifeguard doesn’t say anything, gaze focused over your heads outside where the wind is knocking sunbathing chairs over. You realize then how tall he is—possibly half a foot or more than you—and the thought that if you were close enough, your nose wouldn’t even brush the dip of his clavicle, has your cheeks burning.
He and the half-moon lifeguard have similar builds: long, lean body statures, almond-shaped eyes, the same dark hair that falls in wet strands in their eyes. You wonder if they’re related. Maybe the taller one is the older brother, you think.
“The great ice cream debate,” Yoongi murmurs suddenly, sounding bored. “How about we have some and solve this problem once and for all?”
As he reaches for one of the serving spoons, Jihyo’s arm flies out, smacking it out of his hands. It falls with a clatter onto the counter, and he looks at her with an animated expression of surprise and disgust.
“Uh-uh,” she says, wagging a finger at him. “It’s like Seokjin’s only rule for us.”
“Seokjin can kiss my—“
As if on cue, the back door swings open and Yoongi shuts his mouth as Seokjin comes in, looking incredibly dry due to the floor-length plastic covering hanging from his umbrella.
Leave it to Seokjin to own something as extra as that, you think.
“Get comfy,” he says as he steps out of the plastic, shaking water off the top that splashes onto your scuffed, white Keds.
You gaze down, realizing only then that none of the lifeguards are wearing shoes. Yoongi’s pinky toe is edging dangerously close to a melted puddle of chocolate ice cream you forgot to clean up, but you don’t have the guts to tell him in front of your manager, so you shoo the thought away and focus on the grim look on Seokjin’s face. He’s chewing gum and looks slightly annoyed at the thought of all five of you huddled inside instead of doing work.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” he says, “but I need you guys to stay here until the storm calms down. It should pass in an hour or two.”
Jihyo frowns. “And if it doesn’t?”
“Then I’ll send you home.”
She grins triumphantly.
“And I’ll need you to come in early tomorrow to clean up that mess out there,” Seokjin adds, giving her a sickly-sweet smile. He blows a bubble with his pink chewing gum for emphasis, the pop resonating in the small space.
Yoongi frowns and Jihyo’s mouth drops open. The new lifeguards seem as surprised as the other two, and they eye Seokjin curiously, probably trying to figure out what kind of manager he is. Even after all this time working for him, you don’t really know the answer to that question, either.
“Any more questions?” he asks, tone leaning somewhat on annoyance. But then again, that’s how Seokjin always sounded.
Jihyo shakes her head and Yoongi gives him a deepened frown in answer.
“Good. You,” he says, looking pointedly at Yoongi and mimicking his annoyed expression. “See to it that Hoseok and Jungkook get acquainted with the rules.” He steps inside his clear cocoon of an umbrella, reaching down to zip it up above his head. “And I’ll let you know when it’s safe to go outside and clean up.”
Jungkook, you think. You know immediately that it’s his name because it just fits him. You feel yourself rolling the unspoken syllables around the inside of your mouth, wondering when you’ll get the first chance to say them aloud.
Yoongi salutes half-assedly, and Jihyo elbows him in the side after Seokjin turns around and makes his exit. After the back door is shut, the five of you visibly deflate, and Yoongi sucks his teeth.
“That guy,” he mutters. “One of these days—”
“I wish you’d learn your lesson and stop messing with him,” Jihyo says, interrupting whatever nasty comment was about to spill from his mouth. “It’s probably because of you that Seokjin wants us to stay, instead of going home in this god-awful weather.”
“Why doesn’t he like Yoongi?” Hoseok asks, eyes flickering to the chestnut-haired, simmering boy to his left.
“His most recent offense?” Jihyo ponders, crossing her arms over her chest as she thinks. “Not showing up for his shift—threedays in a row.”
“I was sick,” Yoongi says dryly, narrowing his eyes at her. “What did you want me to do? Not stay in bed and get better?”
“Oh, your bed must suddenly have relocated to the pool hall at five in the afternoon, huh?” she says, tilting her head to the side in mocking. “Snapchat locations don’t lie, Yoongi. If you’re going to play hooky, do it better.”
Hoseok chuckles. “Damn, man.”
Yoongi, never one to back down from an argument, flicks his brown fringe out of his eyes. “Why don’t you teach me then, Little Miss Stomachache?”
“I had cramps!” Jihyo says indignantly.
“You’ll learn that being around these two is like being around an old married couple,” you murmur to Jungkook and Hoseok as Yoongi and Jihyo’s voices rise louder and louder in contest. “They get along like cats and dogs.”
Jungkook grins at your comment, and you think your heart stops a little in your chest before starting an accelerated rhythm that has you feeling light. His lips pull back prettily over his teeth, his cheeks balling a little from the force of it.
“I’m thinking cats and dogs might actually be more civil than this, to be honest,” Hoseok says, gesturing to an annoyed Yoongi threatening to rub his clammy, wet feet on Jihyo’s bare, shorts-clad legs.
In the time that you had worked there, there were very few civil moments between Jihyo and Yoongi. You think that maybe they were civil when Yoongi first started, and you remember faintly a comment made by Jihyo that Yoongi was “cute” and maybe that they exchanged numbers at some point—but then rumors went around that Yoongi said Jihyo was too loud and controlling, and Jihyo said he was a selfish bastard, and you think they’ve been sworn enemies ever since.
“You’re probably right,” you say finally, giggling at Hoseok’s comment. You stop abruptly when you see Jungkook’s eyes fall to your mouth at the sight of it splitting open with a grin. They linger there for a moment before he speaks for the first time since entering you and Jihyo’s space.
“What did you say your name was, again?” he asks.
His voice is soft and low, almost a lilted hum, and it catches you off guard in comparison to his very boyish, young features. You expected it to be higher, to sound almost preteen-like, but it’s nothing of the sort—it immediately has you questioning how old he is in comparison to Hoseok.
“Y/N,” you say. “Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself, I guess.”
Jungkook smiles again, and this time it feels like one especially conjured up for you.
“Y/N,” he repeats, the sound of his tongue rolling over the syllables sends a little zap to your insides. “You um, have a little something there, on your shirt.”
He takes one hand out of his blue swim trunks and points to your breastbone, where a dark splotch of chocolate ice cream sits over your sternum.
“Aw, fuck!” you murmur, facing burning as you spin around on your heel, grabbing the nearest hand towel and dabbing at your shirt. “These kids—”
“It wouldn’t stain like that if it was Mint Chocolate Chip,” Jihyo sneers suddenly, cutting whatever Yoongi was about to say to her off. She grins triumphantly at the stain, returning to your argument from earlier. “Would it?”
You flip her the bird, still dabbing at the fabric—but you can’t help but revel a little in the cute smile Jungkook gives you as he watches you fuss over yourself, digging around the kitchen space for anything to save you from the ice cream on your shirt.
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After that fated day, your mind lingered on Jungkook incessantly. At the pool, you glanced at him more often than not from the serving window of the ice cream stand, committing him to memory. You found yourself reminiscing over the upended triangular shape of his upper body, the lithe muscle covering his shoulder blades, the image of a whistle poised between his rosy lips, his teeth pressed tightly against the metal, his body wet and glistening as he rose out of the pool—
“You’re literally drooling, Y/N,” Jihyo says, breaking you out of your reverie by snapping her fingers in front of your face. “Why don’t you just, I don’t know, go talk to him?”
“I will,” you say indignantly. “I told you—I’m waiting.”
“It’s been three weeks.”
“Yeah, I know,” you say, nodding. “Still waiting.”
“Jesus,” Jihyo sighs. “I didn’t want to do this, but you know he’s only here for the summer, right?”
You freeze in the middle of cleaning the counter. “He’s what?”
“You heard me—you have less than three months, Y/N,” Jihyo says firmly. “I know rushing isn’t your style but, uh, you might not have a choice this time.”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me!”
You hate how your voice sounds pitiful and whiny, but your heart is literally sinking at this news—three months? Less than three months? Where was he going? What would you do with your time when he wasn’t there to look out the window at? It dawns on you suddenly that you won’t be there in three months, either. School started back at the end of August—your sophomore year.
“Why didn’t you let me know you were interested in him?” Jihyo crosses her arms over her chest. “I’ve been watching you fawn over him for all this time, just waiting and hoping you’d confide in me, but no.”
“What was I supposed to say?” you retort glumly. “That I like the lifeguard that seems the least interested in my existence? Yeah, no, I’ll save myself from that sadness train going nowhere, thank you very much.”
“Maybe I can help you,” Jihyo says with confidence, turning to the window. “Hey, Jungkook!”
You freeze. “What? What are you doing?”
Jungkook looks your way, raising an eyebrow above his black Ray Bans. Jihyo leans out of the serving window, beckoning him over with a wave of her hand.
She turns to you. “Look how easy this is going to be.”
You swallow to combat the sudden tightness in your throat, watching with bated breath as Jungkook climbs down the lifeguard ladder and walks to you two, his feet slapping a little on the wet cement surrounding the pool.
“What’s up?” he says, pushing his sunglasses back on his head and unknowingly releasing the full intensity of his doe-like eyes.
You inhale a small gasp that Jihyo obviously hears, because she lightly presses her Ked-clad foot on top of yours below the counter.
“Me, you, Y/N, Hoseok,” Jihyo says with a confidence you could never muster. “Dinner and a movie on the boardwalk this weekend?”
Jungkook’s eyes pass from hers to yours for a split second, and your pulse picks up speed in your veins. If he seems surprised from the random invitation, however, he doesn’t let it show on the easy-going expression that he wears.
“Sure,” he says. “Can you remind me when it gets a little closer? I’ll have to make sure my parents don’t have anything planned.”
Jihyo flips her hair over her shoulder, casually producing her phone from what feels like thin air. You blink down at her hand, realizing this was her plan all along.
“Put your number in,” she says. “I’ll make us a group chat. We should probably have one anyways, since we work together. You know?”
Jungkook nods and puts his number in before handing it back to her. A commotion happens in the water behind him, and he glances over his shoulder with concern. “I should probably head back,” he says. He gives you both a small smile before he flips his sunglasses down over his eyes again, hitting a slight jog back to the lifeguard stand.
When he’s out of earshot, Jihyo texts rapidly on her phone. When she’s done yours vibrates three times in your pocket: the start of the group chat, you’re sure.
“And that, my friend,” she says, giving you a grin that could rival the Grinch when he decided to steal Christmas, “is how you get the ball rolling!”
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Unfortunately, Jihyo’s plans—which she has annoyingly coined as Operation: Get Y/N Laid—don’t stop there.
On Thursday, just two days before the plans, she convinces Hoseok to come with her to something before the meet up that’s going to coincidentally make them late so that you and Jungkook have time to be alone.
When she tells you this, it’s as she’s making a double scoop chocolate cone, but you can’t help the overwhelming urge that comes over you to put your hands around her neck.
“Ack! Y/N! Let go!” she says between breaths with wide eyes. “I’m going to drop the ice—”
“You’re so dumb!” you yell, squeezing a little harder. “That’s such an obvious ploy to get us alone, he’s going to realize it!”
Jihyo finally squirms out of your grip by turning her head and licking your arm. The warmth of her tongue makes you recoil, and she gasps with relief as air floods back into her lungs, looking at the now-lopsided cone in her left hand.
“Now how am I supposed to give this to that little brat outside?” she says, frowning. “His mom will come and eat me alive if I hand this slop out of the window.”
“You probably deserve it,” you say sourly. You lean your hip into one of the counters, crossing your arms over your chest. “Take your plans back, Jihyo.”
“I can’t,” she says calmly. “Hoseok is already in on it.”
“He’s what?!”
“He’s in on Operation: Get Y/N Laid,” she says again, with that same ridiculous manner of calm, like you didn’t just make her life flash before her eyes thirty seconds ago. “Stop freaking out—he wants to give you some time alone just like I do. So, he’s not going to say anything to Jungkook. The plan will go on like normal, you will just have to do a little acting when we don’t show up on time. Got it?”
In all honesty, it’s not the worse plan she has ever come up with. But you don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing so, so you keep your current frown plastered on your mouth for a little longer to let her know your displeasure with the sudden turn of events.
“Oh, don’t you go all pouty on me,” Jihyo says, wagging a finger at you as she trashes the cone you messed up and grabs another. She scoops more ice cream out of the container below her, giving you a look that reminds you of a mother watching her children open Christmas presents after telling them they weren’t getting anything for months. “You’ll thank me later—right after you tell me if Jungkook has anything worthy of talking about.”
“I’m sure he does,” you respond indignantly, falling right into her trap. “He’s intelligent.”
Jihyo hums a nod before brandishing the new cone, two scoops of chocolate perfectly centered and balanced on top of each other. “Before long this will be you two—are you a top or a bottom, though? I forgot.”
You groan in anguish as Jihyo lets out a cackle, opening the window to your stand and handing it out the impatient little boy that waits outside. You’re grateful for the breeze, although its simmering warmth does nothing for the same feeling that has settled high on your cheeks, dusting pigment there reminiscent of a similar shade of red Jungkook sometimes sports on his swim trunks.
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The day of the boardwalk date, you find yourself sprawled out on the floor in front of your closet in your underwear and bra, contemplating why you ever purchased every single item of clothing in your closet.
These kinds of freak outs are normally reserved for the pressing dates in life—first day of college, nights out with the girls, birthdays—but today, you find yourself freaking out over the instance of having to wear the perfect outfit in order to feel comfortable around Jungkook.
Comfortable, and most importantly, pretty.
You shuffle through your two final picks, laying them across your bed in order to get the full effect of what they might look like on. They were both incredibly simple—your college wardrobe either consisted of exercise shorts and t-shirts and hoodies or going out clothes that were much too revealing for a fun night on the boardwalk. But you fret over them some more, so much that you almost have a nervous breakdown and text Jihyo to call the whole thing off.
But the slight hum of your phone vibrating your bed stops you before you can do so. It’s from Jungkook, and you heart beats a little off kilter at the sight of his name popping up on your phone screen.
Jungkook 5:15PM : We still meeting at 6?
It’s directed to your group chat with him, Jihyo and Hoseok. You take a deep breath. Jihyo had told you that she wasn’t going to respond to any messages until the last minute, to really sell her “emergency” that she had to bring Hoseok along on. You were driving separately, as was Jungkook, but the two of them had decided to conveniently carpool a day prior.
Y/N 5:18PM : I’ll be there! Park at Pier 14, it’s the closest one to the boardwalk
Jungkook 5:20PM : Yes ma’am 😊
You smile down at your phone, biting down on your bottom lip softly as you read the message over a few times before clicking the screen lock button. You prop your hands on your hips, deciding that it’s now or never. The nights got chilly in the summer when the sun wasn’t beating down as heavy, and you hated being cold. So, you choose the outfit on the right—a simple, oversized pullover and bike shorts, paired with some scuffed white sneakers, and rush into the bathroom to get ready so you’re not late.
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You get to the pier at exactly 6:01 and search around for a parking space.
A part of you feels like this is a bad plan. Especially when you look down at your phone after cutting the engine and realize that Jihyo has texted you something that makes your stomach drop.
Jihyo 5:59PM : Haha…bad news
Jihyo 5:59PM : DON’T KILL ME
Y/N 6:02PM : Please, no!!! What is it!!
Jihyo 6:03PM : The check engine light on my car came on as I was leaving Hoseok’s. Don’t panic. We are waiting for AAA to come get us and take us back to his house so he can drive. I repeat: DON’T. PANIC.
“Okay, okay” you say to yourself, taking a few calming, deep breaths in. “At least she has a plan? This can still work out. I’m not panicking. Yet.”
Y/N 6:03PM : When are they estimated to be there?
Her messaging dots appear and disappear for a few minutes and your anxiety skyrockets.
Y/N 6:06PM : JIHYO
Jihyo 6:07PM : between 6:45-7PM…
Y/N 6:08PM : THE MOVIE STARTS AT 7:05 YOU ABSOLUTE
There’s a knock at your window that has you almost jumping out of your skin. When you look up, you’re met by the wide grin and big, childlike eyes of Jungkook. He peers at you through the tinted glass, looking a little sheepish at having scared you on accident.
All your anxiety about Jihyo having an actual emergency disappears as you unclick your seat belt and scramble out of the car to join him.
“I really didn’t mean to do that,” he says, stepping back and giving you space to swing your door open. “Is everything all right?”
“What?” you say. “Oh, yeah. Everything is fine. Well—sort of.”
Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you. “Did something happen?”
“Jihyo is having car trouble, so her and Hoseok are going to be late.”
You bite down on your bottom lip, shifting your weight from leg to leg. The outing was supposed to be all of you as a group—and originally, them being a little late wouldn’t have been such a problem. But you were thinking thirty minutes max, not an hour and a half!
You’re relieved when Jungkook shrugs. “Oh, okay,” he says. “Well, I’m still cool with walking around until the movie starts if you are ?”
You nod with enthusiasm. “Right—we’re already here, might as well go do some stuff?”
Jungkook smiles again, and you finally take a good look at him. He’s wearing a dark t-shirt under a black zip-up hoodie and a pair of chinos—a simpler outfit that looks way too good on his tall, lean frame. You hadn’t seen him in much other than his swim trunks because the only time you two really saw each other outside of this singular moment, was at work.
Of course, you weren’t complaining about that aspect. You could probably pencil out in detail the muscles of Jungkook’s upper chest and stomach, the way water rolled off them when he got out of the pool, the way they flexed when he pulled his whistle to his mouth. That is, if your drawing skills weren’t absolute shit—so bad at that a kindergartener could probably put you to shame with snapped Crayola’s and disproportionate stick figures.
The sun has already sunk below the horizon, taking with it all the heat and warmth of the day and leaving you with a slight breeze that could give you goosebumps if you let it, and a sky the deepened color of cornflowers.
It’s twilight, you realize, as you trail beside Jungkook from the parking lot cement onto the wooden planks of the boardwalk. A backlit, blue-hued time of day that you absolutely adored during the summertime because you still had just enough light accomplish the activities you wanted to.
Not that you needed to worry about light at a time like this—the bright boardwalk stadium lights are almost blinding, and because it’s the weekend, the two of you find yourself periodically weaving in and out of the crowd that seems to get busier and pushier the further you walk.
Jungkook takes the lead, his taller frame holding more of a reason for people to move out of the way than yours. You watch the back of his head the whole time, noticing the way his raven hair reflects the light—shiny and clean and looking incredibly soft.
“How about a snow cone?” he calls over his shoulder. “It looks like there might be somewhere for us to sit up there.”
He points ahead and you call out an agreement to him, hoping to be heard over the ruckus.
You realize that the crowd isn’t going to let up anytime soon—people have no qualms about walking in between you two, and you find yourself speeding up in order to not be further separated from him.
At some point Jungkook glances behind him again and realizes your struggle. He slows his pace, and you happen to look down and realize he is holding out the long sleeve of his hoodie for you to hold on to.
“Don’t get lost,” he says with a grin. “This snow cone will be worth it, I promise!”
You return his smile, holding onto his arm with a light touch as he continues to lead through the crowd. You curse Jihyo silently in your head—despite her fake emergency turning into a real emergency, she was right about one thing: time alone with Jungkook was something you couldn’t pass up.
When you finally make it to the snow cone cart, you let go of Jungkook’s arm quickly. He looks at you with suspicion as you snatch away, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a shit-eating grin, like he knew exactly what he was doing to your racing pulse by offering you his touch.
“What flavor do you want?” he asks, looking at the menu stand on the right. “My treat.”
You both immediately point to Tiger’s Blood, and Jungkook seems pleased with you.
“Good choice,” he says. “If you picked Pina Colada, I was going to lose it.”
You giggle. “You don’t like coconut?”
“No,” he says, frowning. “I snuck some of my mom’s Malibu one time without realizing and I almost barfed.”
You laugh again, shaking your head. You realize that you still don’t how old Jungkook is, and while he orders your snow cones, you look at him with scrutiny. There was something young about his eyes and face, the roundness of the tip of his nose and cheeks making you believe he was younger than you. But his body—good grief, his body—and the sharpness of his jawline and said otherwise.
When you’re both seated at a picnic table, you decide to ask him.
“Why?” he says. “How old do you think?”
You take a timid bite of your snow cone, relishing in the satisfying crunch of ice between your teeth. “Hmm, I know you’re college-age. Just wondering how old.”
“That story I told about sneaking alcohol was from a few years ago,” he says, laughing. “I’m twenty-one.”
“Oh.”
“You’re only nineteen, right?” he says, but it doesn’t seem like he cares much that you’re younger.
You nod. “But my birthday is in September.”
“So is mine,” he replies with a grin. “We’ll have to try to celebrate together, somehow.”
You try not to let on how happy his suggestion makes you—that months from now, you two will be friends that throw parties together, or possibly more—and you settle into your seat, munching happily on the cold treat that is slowly turning from ice to mush in the paper cone in your hands.
“So why the pool?” you say a few moments later. “Did you work at another one before ours?”
Jungkook blinks. “I have my CPR certification from another part time job I had at a gym,” he said. “I don’t know why they made us get it, honestly.”
You laugh. “Maybe in case one of the meatheads lifted too much at once?”
“Maybe,” he says, grinning. “But the gym couldn’t work around my school schedule anymore. So, when I came home I saw the pool was looking for a new part-time lifeguard and I applied.”
“You only come home during the summer?”
Jungkook nods, but a look of annoyance flashes across his face before he answers. “There’s not much for me here, honestly. I like school and being on my own, away from my parents.”
“I get that.”
It was something you could both agree on. You didn’t realize freedom could taste so sweet until you moved into your dorm on campus. You could stay up when you wanted, sleep when you wanted, go out when you wanted. As long as you kept your grades up and didn’t lose your scholarship for your parent’s sake, you were literally allowed to do whatever your heart desired.
“It’s too far away to fly back and forth, anyways,” Jungkook adds, suddenly. He tilts his paper cone back, dumping all of the remaining liquid into his mouth before crumpling it in his left fist.
“How far?”
“California.”
“Oh. Why there?”
Somehow, you were taken aback to hear that he’d chosen a school so far from his home. You wonder suddenly if the sullen look he’d given your earlier had more to it than you realized.
Jungkook ignores your question—like you expected—and stands up. You scramble to finish the remains of your cone and he holds his hand out for your trash. You give it to him, feeling the slight brush of your fingers against his palm that reminds you of earlier when he’d offered his arm. He doesn’t this time, but you find yourself wishing he would again. Or that you two were close enough for you to reach out and grab it without his permission.
“That’s a story for later,” he says, giving you a look meant to soften the blow of his hard statement. “I don’t want to talk about it right now—it’ll ruin the mood.”
You nod slightly, bringing your bottom lip back between your teeth to gnaw on. You hadn’t meant to upset him.
“Is there anything you want to do?” he asks, looking around. “We have about thirty minutes before we should head back to the car for the drive-in movie.”
The boardwalk was in full swing as the night progressed, the sky now a deep shade of indigo behind him. You stand with him, leaning onto your tip toes in an effort to recognize any signs further down the wooden path.
“The arcade, maybe?” you suggest.
Jungkook fake clutches at his chest, staggering with clumsy steps to one side. “A woman after my own heart,” he says theatrically. “I might faint.”
You laugh loudly and roll your eyes to cover up your own heartbeat thumping wildly in your ears. You use the rush to match his energy: “I’m only saying it because I want you to win me a plushie.”
Jungkook smiles, his eyes full of light and mischief at getting to show off his skills. “That, madam, is a deal. Let’s go.”
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Jihyo still hasn’t texted you by the time you and Jungkook exit the arcade.
You want to send a scolding text to her, but in reality, you don’t really care if they show up anymore. Jungkook seems to have forgotten they were coming—he doesn’t look at his phone once while you two flit from game to game in the arcade.
You’d watched from the side as he entered a water pistol race with a few other patrons of the boardwalk. He sat down on a stool right in the middle of everyone, leaning over the gun and closing one eye for better accuracy. His tongue poked out between his lips, his form rigid and unyielding until the announcer blew a whistle to start the race. You held back a laugh at his seriousness, pressing a hand to your mouth in case he looked over at you.
He did, but only once the flashing lights above his booth went off, signaling him as the winner. He’d hopped off the stool and raced over to you, placing a hand above your elbow before pulling you over to claim your reward from the prize table.
You chose a blue and white dolphin that was just big enough to be slightly comical. Jungkook carried it over his shoulder as you two walked back toward his car, giddy from the excitement of playing carnival games and teasing each other all the while.
“Okay, but you wouldn’t have even beaten me at basketball if yours didn’t come to my side and knock my shots off course constantly!” Jungkook insists. “You’re a sneaky little thing.”
“Why can’t you just admit my two-pointer is better than yours?”
“Y/N,” Jungkook says, shaking his head in disappointment. “I’m almost six foot and you’re what—five-one? You simply can’t be a better shot that I am because of your genetics. I’m sorry.”
Your mouth drops open. “I’m literally five-three!”
“Minus two.”
“Oh, whatever!”
Jungkook laughs loudly, throwing his head back from the force of it. You pout alongside him, but you can’t help the telling smile that creeps onto your face. You like this side of Jungkook—it was so different from the stoic and quiet lifeguard you knew him as before.
“The drive-in is just a block that way, right?” he asks once you two come up on the parking lot. He shifts the dolphin higher on his shoulder, stopping in his tracks to turn and look at you. “I can drive us in my car, if you want.”
Your eyes widen a little at his suggestion. You didn’t even think about the fact that if Jihyo and Hoseok weren’t here, it would just be you and him watching the movie together.
“Oh—um, I mean,” you stumble over your answer. “If that’s okay with you?”
“I offered, didn’t I?” he says with another laugh. He gestures to the stuffed animal perched on his shoulder. “Plus, we’ve got a nice seat cushion, here.”
You smile and nod before following him to his car. It’s a little navy SUV—something you didn’t expect him drive at all. He seemed like a “car guy” for some reason, one that would have driven something old and sturdy and loud.
“This is—cute,” you say, for lack of better wording.
Jungkook sucks his teeth. “Man, why does everyone say that?” He groans. “This thing is great on gas, okay? And look at all this trunk space! I mean, if you lived all the way in California—"
“Hey, hey,” you say, holding your hands up in defense. “I’m sorry, that was terrible wording. Did I say cute? I meant cutely efficient. You didn’t let me finish.”
Jungkook laughs again, nodding. “That’s what I thought you meant, yeah.”
He throws your dolphin in the backseat and then opens the passenger side door for you to get in. Your cheeks are hot as you move past him to settle into the seat, giving him a timid smile as he shuts the door behind you. You watch him walk around the front of the vehicle, lit up by a neighboring car’s headlights for just a fraction of a second.
He’s handsome to you while doing the most mundane of things, and your heart hurts at the thought. You couldn’t have a crush on him. He was your coworker for one, and for two, he didn’t live there. He went to school across the country, and he was only home for three incredibly short months. There would be nothing to your relationship, so you couldn’t let yourself fall into the trap of having a crush on someone so, well—unavailable. You pinch yourself hard on the thigh as a seal of reminder: this could not, would not, happen.
The slam of the car door brings you back to reality. Jungkook presses the start button on his dashboard before clicking his seatbelt across his upper body.
“You good?” he says, looking over at you with a furrowed brow. When you nod, he backs the car out of the space, his hand on the back of your headrest for good measure.
You take a few uneven breaths in and out at the action, forcing yourself to remain looking out of the front windshield and to not turn your head towards him even a fraction. You know doing so would put your faces at an incredible proximity, and you what the hell did you just pinch yourself over if you weren’t going to stick with it!
“Any word from Jihyo and Hoseok?” he asks. “It would be cool if we could still get dinner with them afterwards, at least.”
You pull your phone out of your crossbody. The screen lights up to no new unread messages, so you sent Jihyo a quick text in your private chat.
Y/N 6:58PM : Update?
It sends but doesn’t get read immediately in normal Jihyo fashion.
“Hm, maybe the tow truck is there, and she can’t talk,” you say. “I hope everything’s all right.”
“Me too,” Jungkook says. “But this is fun—with just us two.” He pauses, glancing over at you. “Don’t you think?”
“Yeah, of course,” you say quickly, giving him a smile. “I’m having a great time.”
He seems sated by this information, but you’re not sure why. “I’m glad.”
Jungkook drives you to toward the movie parking lot—a grassy field with neat rows of cars guided by a parking attendant in a bright, orange vest—and Jungkook reverses in the directed spot in the middle row of cars. You can see the screen perfectly, but only out of the back window from the way he parked. That does little to deter your excitement, though.
“The screen is huge!” you say in awe, twisting in your seat.
You look on as it plays movie trailer previews for remaining months of the summer, and the thought flits across your mind just how many you might get to see with Jungkook before your time was up.
“You’ve never been to a drive-in?” Jungkook asks. “We gotta make this one extra special, then.”
You look over at him with an eyebrow quirked. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Jungkook begins, unlocking the car doors, “I’m pulling out the big guns.”
He hops out and heads to the trunk of the car. You scramble after him, shutting the passenger door behind you and joining him where he stands with the trunk popped open. You watch as he lowers the second row of seats flat after moving the dolphin plushie and a conveniently-packed duvet. You look at him with raised eyebrows as he unfolds the blanket across the flattened seats, making you two a perfect spot to lay in the back of the car while watching the movie.
Jungkook sees the suspicion on your face and chuckles, scratching the back of his head. “I just thought we might want to be comfortable if we’re going to be watching a movie for two hours, you know?”
You ignore him and climb in through the open trunk, settling down with the dolphin as a cushion for your back. “Where’s the popcorn?” you ask, laughing. “This is perfect.”
Jungkook holds up a finger. “One moment, m’lady.”
He takes off from the car and you sit up on your elbows, watching him jog up to a stand at the front of the drive-in parking lot that was selling snacks and drinks for the occasion. You pinch yourself again for good measure when he comes back a few moments later, reminding yourself of your pact. Just because you two were alone, in the back of Jungkook’s car, laying down, about to watch a movie together, alone, didn’t mean anything!
The scent of butter and salt fills your nostrils as Jungkook returns, handing you the popcorn and drinks as he climbs into the trunk and settles beside you. He sits cross-legged and digs into the pockets of his chinos to reveal candy in both hands.
“Sour straws or gummi bears?” he asks.
“Gummi bears, but I want a sour straw, too.”
Jungkook laughs. “Agreed.”
As you two dig in, the beginning of the movie flickers onto the big display screen. People pass by Jungkook’s car on their way to the food stands at the front, and you and Jungkook settle against the giant dolphin propped on the back of the front seats.
“I’ll have to figure out a way to repay you for all of this,” you say quietly in between sips of fizzy Coke. “You keep paying for everything before I can offer.”
“Would you rather us go Dutch?” he asks in the dark.
He’s incredibly close to you—his forearm brushes against yours when he moves because the dolphin only spans so far when you lay it down. It wasn’t the biggest prize, because you didn’t want to carry around a massive plushie, but it certainly wasn’t the smallest they had, either.
On screen, the heroine is introduced going about her daily life. She gets ready, brushes her teeth and hair, puts on her makeup for a normal day at school. When she pulls up to school, a sleek, black motorcycle is parked in her usual spot. A little ways from it, she notices the culprit—an extremely handsome guy holding a bike helmet within the crook of his arm as a swarm of cheerleaders surround him like he’s the coolest thing since sliced bread.
“Yeah,” you say honestly. “I mean, I hate the thought of depending on other people.”
Jungkook turns to look at you as you say this, and when you glance at him, there’s an emotion plastered on his usually friendly face that you can’t pinpoint.
“Consider it our first date,” he says finally, with a shrug. “Then you don’t owe me anything and you’re not depending on me, either.”
Your heart lurches in your chest. “Oh—um—well—”
Jungkook tilts his head down as he bites into a sour straw, pulling the candy away from his clenched teeth so it makes a small pop as it separates. He nudges you with his shoulder that is already leaning against your own.
“Did you see that?” he asks with a chuckle. “The stunt doubles are so noticeable in this movie—they have totally different builds than the main characters.”
You swallow the lump in your throat and manage a breathy laugh. A date. The word echoes within the chambers of your mind, repeating over and over like he just yelled it into a cave at the top of his lungs. It reverberates around your skull until you feel your skin buzzing from the meaning.
So much for your pact when he was saying things like that so casually. God, you couldn’t wait to get Jihyo alone to tell her everything.
The movie continues, and a glance down at your phone lets you know that it’s only thirty minutes in when Jihyo finally texts you back.
Jihyo 7:36PM : Hoseok and I aren’t going to make the movie. We’ll just explore the boardwalk until you two lovebirds are done and then we can get food!
You relay the information to Jungkook—leaving out the lovebirds bit. He nods in understanding.
“I figured they wouldn’t—but I’m glad we’ll get to see them,” he answers. “Hoseok texted me a while ago and said Jihyo’s engine light was on because she slams on her brakes too much. He thinks he has whiplash.”
You giggle. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”
“My little mom-car doesn’t seem so bad now, does it?”
“I told you I liked it! I would totally pick my kids up from soccer at 6PM on Thursday in this!”
Jungkook throws a half-popped kernel at your forehead. “Rude.”
“You said the mom thing first!”
“Because I’m allowed to pick on Cheryl—she’s mine.”
“Cheryl?!” You dissolve into a fit of giggles. “Please—don’t tell me—”
Jungkook takes the weight of his shoulder pressed against yours and pushes you over with it before you can finish your sentence. You lean away from him but bring the force back with your own shoulder, fighting him for more room on the dolphin-plushie-turned-back-rest.
You two battle for a second, pushing against each other like children until Jungkook lifts his arm up and around you, cocooning you in his warmth and bringing you to rest fully on the right side of his body. He’s leaning a little against the corner of the back of the SUV and you are nestled within his side body, feeling the heat of his chest pressed against your cheek. You breathe in and out before you realize that maybe, you should move.
You go to sit up, but Jungkook says, “Wait, stay. You’re warm.”
It’s not you that’s warm—your face, sure—but Jungkook’s body feels like your own personal heater. You try to relax, leaning against him once again in a better cuddling position with your head resting on Jungkook’s chest, right below his collarbones. You can hear his heartbeat this way—thudding what you think is a little faster than normal underneath the layers of his thin hoodie and T-shirt.
“Are you comfortable? Can you see?”
You’re not sure, but you think he sounds a little breathless—from the sudden change in your positions, or the tussle before, you can’t tell which is the culprit.
“Yeah,” you say, shifting a little so that you’re more on your side rather than just leaning over onto him. “Are you okay?”
“I’m great,” he says, and again, it sounds like there’s a hint of smile in his voice.
You can’t focus on the movie after that. Jungkook is too close, his intoxicating scent swirling into your nostrils with every inhale, your head rising up and down with each breath he takes. This was what friends did, right? This was totally friendly. He just wanted you to be comfortable. You repeat this to yourself as Jungkook’s hand—that was once just dangling over your shoulder—begins to trace soft patterns into your side.
You close your eyes, focusing on slowing the thumping of your heart, timing your inhales to let him know that this is okay. This is totally fine. You aren’t freaking out. You’re just here, enjoying everything that Jungkook had to offer you.
It’s fine. He’s fine. You’re fine. Maybe he was just touchy—some boys were like that, after all. Some friendly relationships included tons of skinship. You just weren’t used to it, and you needed to quickly acquaint yourself with the fact that this was how it would be with him if you continued to hang out.
Before you know it, you’re so lost in your thoughts you don’t catch most of the end of the movie. In fact, you don’t even realize it’s over until the credits are rolling and people are moving around you again, the sounds of car doors and trunks slamming as people get ready to move onto their next activity.
It’s only 9PM, but it’s dark outside—the blues of the sky that had enticed you so much once before had faded to an indescribable navy, a blue so deep that it looked black. If you focused, you could see the minute twinkling of stars past the stadium lights on the outskirts that blink on after the movie is over so everyone could exit in a timely and visible fashion.
Jungkook yawns, patting your side. “I think I fell asleep for a moment—I was so comfortable here.”
He laughs in spite of himself, and you give him a breathless chuckle in return. “Sorry if I made your side sore.” You get off of him, scooting over to give him a little room to sit up straight.
“Sore?” he asks incredulously. “Y/N, you’re like a feather. I’m not that breakable.”
Boy, did you know. Thoughts of his muscular stomach flash in your mind, and you will them away. He watch him reach up to close the trunk as people begin to move outside of the car, cocooning you two back into a comfortable darkness from the tints on the back windows.
“Still.”
“Still, what?” he says. There’s a small silence that ensues. “You’re so nervous around me. Is it me?”
“What?” you say, furrowing your brow. Your skin pricks with the same nervousness that you are about refute. “I mean—”
“I know I’m pretty standoffish at the pool, but I don’t mean to be that way,” he admits. “I just felt like I was in this new place with all of these established relationships and rules. You have Jihyo, and well, Hoseok and I are close, but we’re not best friends.” He pauses. “I was really surprised when Jihyo invited me out with you all.”
“Surprised,” you repeat quietly.
His words absolutely contradict the Jungkook you thought you knew. But maybe that’s how it would always be—you realizing he had his own motives and reasons for being the way he was, and you not understanding a bit of it until he decided to divulge you in them.
“Yeah, surprised,” he nods. “I feel out of place, here. If I’m being honest.”
“But you live here.”
“I don’t have any friends though, because I’m gone for nine months out of the year,” he says, shrugging. “I didn’t have any in high school, either. It was just—I don’t know. I didn’t like it here, so I didn’t see a reason to have any ties.”
You can’t really wrap your head around it, but you realize Jungkook is being vulnerable to you in this moment. You don’t want to make him regret it, so you reach out to him—the closest thing to you is his hand, resting on the duvet between you two—and you run your fingers over the soft skin in a timid, unsure fashion.
“Jihyo and I will never say no to new additions to our friend circle,” you say with a smile. “It gives us reasons not to kill each other if someone else is watching.”
Jungkook chuckles a little, holding your gaze. The trunk of the car is still closed, and most of the crowd has dispersed to other parts of the beach where the boardwalk is still alive and filled with weekend nightlife.
“That’s good to know,” Jungkook says softly, looking down at your hands on the blanket. He slides his underneath yours and links his fingers through the spaces in between.
“Y/N—” he says, leaning closer to you, “—thanks. Really.”
You lean closer as well, feeling the magnetism of your two bodies being pulled together in the dark. Your breath comes out in unmeasured puffs, threatening to give away how nervous you are. You’re glad Jungkook can’t really see you anymore, and you’re certainly glad he can’t hear the unsteady beat of your heart as your faces inch closer and closer. As the quiet of the night cocoons you two like a soft blanket, there is no noise other than your heartbeat in your ears as Jungkook’s mouth hovers over your own.
You feel his unsteady sigh outwards as he says, “Are you sure you’re not—”
You use your remaining courage to stop him before he can finish his sentence, closing the distance between your mouths into a soft, sweet kiss. It stays that way for a moment—closed-mouth and innocent—before Jungkook brings his hand to the back of your head and deepens it, pressing his mouth hard against your own in a way that is a command all in its own.
Your lips part involuntarily and Jungkook’s tongue presses softly against the ridge of your mouth, tracing the outline until he is exploring the inside with ease and expertise. As your tongues lace together, you find yourself placing heavy hands on his chest, slightly wrinkling the collar of his shirt with your nails before you slide your hands up and over his shoulders and hook them together behind his neck.
Your head tilts to the right and you push back against him, following the energy and putting it into the most passionate kissing session you’ve had—well, ever. Jungkook places his hands on your hips and pulls you over him so that you are straddling his waist, his experience showing as he places you right on top of his hardening member. You have no choice but to feel it between your thighs and the thin material of your bike shorts—a decision you certainly didn’t realize would come in handy when you’d picked them out a few hours ago in your bedroom closet.
You two kiss and kiss and kiss, getting lost within each other for what feels like hours. You can’t allow yourself to disassociate and think about anything other than what was happening in the moment—although there was a part of your brain that couldn’t believe it was happening, surely.
You were kissing Jungkook. Jungkook was kissing you—no, it was more than that. He was touching you: his hands making a lazy trail up your back, in between your shoulder blades and over the hump of your shoulders until they entangled in your hair and kept your mouth criminal to his. He was breathing you in: making a trail away from your mouth, down your jaw and neck, where he settled on sucking small, reddened splotches into the thin skin just around the collar of your pullover. You want more of him, but more would have to wait.
Jungkook pauses underneath you, much more intact with the real world than you are because he shushes you politely so that you can hear it: the tell-tale sound of your phone humming the vibrations of an incoming call.
“It’s Jihyo,” he says in the darkness, allowing the brightness of your screen to illuminate your faces, inches apart. He hands it to you, and you clear your throat in an attempt to sound less breathless than you actually are as you greet your friend.
“Where are you?” she asks—but it sounds more like a demand. “I know the movie is over by now. You haven’t answered my texts. Are you okay?”
“What?” you say but shake your head. “I’m fine, sorry. Jungkook and I were trying to find our way out of the theatre parking lot. It’s really crowded over here so we had to wait for our turn.”
In the light of your phone pressed against your cheek, you can just barely make out Jungkook’s knowing smirk in the dark.
“Hoseok and I are waiting at Pier 14. Did you two still want to get dinner?”
Jungkook nods in answer, leaning forward a little to press his lips softly against the center of your throat while you talk. You take a calming breath in and out as he mouths at the skin there, swiping his tongue over the space lightly before continuing to kiss away any of your troubles. You close your eyes again, feeling like you’re disappearing under his soft touch before you realize Jihyo is still waiting on your answer.
“Dinner sounds good,” you manage. “Text me an address—you and Hoseok can choose. I don’t care.”
You hang up before she can protest. Your mouth hovers over Jungkook’s, lips pressed together in a solid line.
“That wasn’t very nice,” you admonish him, placing your hands on his firm shoulders. “I was trying to talk.”
“I know,” he says in a soft tone, breathing out a laugh. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“You better.”
He gives you one last lingering kiss—one that steals the breath from your lungs and makes you feel lightheaded before he lets you go. You feel warm all over as you two crawl toward the front of his car, returning to your seats while stealing knowing glances at each other.
You don’t want to dwell on the thoughts too much, but a lot had changed in the last hour that you couldn’t even wrap your head around, much less understand and come to accept. Your lips tingle as your mind flies through the events again, attempting to see you and Jungkook from a third-person perspective in your mind, but really just focusing on the way it felt when he was kissing you, touching you, breathing you in.
You knew one thing for certain, though: your pact with yourself was up. You weren’t just diving into the shallow anymore. You were in the deep end.
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0606-hyuck · 3 years
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a letter to my lover | huang renjun
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♡  dear y/n, i’m writing you this letter in the hopes that it gets to you well. our relationship has been tumultuous, that’s for sure, and i thought it was high time i wrote you a letter detailing all the times you said "i love you" that are important to me. 
genre: renjun x reader, extreme angst, supernatural!renjun, demon!renjun
warnings: death, disease, mild profanity, and alcohol consumption
word count: 3.1K
a/n: this is by far my most favourite thing i've ever wrote, i hope you like it just a much as i do!
tagging: the lovely @roses-of-the-moon ♡ @mora134340 @ncteology + @nct-writers
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My love,
The first time you said “I love you”, I was trying to scam you out of your 30 acre estate.
You were being sarcastic, of course. I remember that day, back in 1853, as if it were yesterday. You were just finishing up helping your father on the back paddocks when, the second he left you alone for a moment, I came up to the fence and pitched my preposition to you. That day I was using my favourite ruse - a charming fellow from a foreign land interested in trading your property for some vague amount of money in return. I had donned my best waistcoat and breeches, made sure not a hair on my head was out of place, and fixed a practiced salesman smile onto my face. There I was, trying my best to look as expensive as possible, while you were knee deep in cow shit. 
As I explained my deal to you, I remember thinking that this was going to be one of my easier cons - there was a reason I had targeted you and not your father, after all. I simply needed one of the residents of the property to sign below the dotted line on my magically enhanced paper disguised as formal legal documents and bam! The property would be mine. Five minutes talking with you and I’d be the new owner of your estate.
At least, that was the plan. When I finished my sales-pitch, you plainly looked me up and down, scoffed loudly, and stated, “wow, I love you.” You must have noticed how my eyebrows quirked up in curiosity because you added, “the hair, the outfit, the accent, I love it all.” I was still confused until you said, “I especially love how you think that I am going to be deceived by a little boy who looks like he’s playing dress up in daddy’s old clothes. Good try, though. I bet it works on the others in this town who lack the brain capacity to recognise when they’re getting swindled out of their life’s savings.” 
I stood there shocked, firstly because...ouch. Did these clothes really look that bad on me? And secondly, because you were right, this had never happened before. What was I supposed to do now? Luckily, you let me know what my next moves should be when you lobbed a chunk of sloppy cow shit from your work boot onto my pristine waistcoat and promptly told me to get lost.
The thing was, dear, I was a demon. And demons are notoriously deceitful characters. Never in my lifetime - which was a long time - had someone not fallen for my tricks. Okay, so my plan to convince the Founding Fathers of the United States to let me sign the Declaration was a fail, but small, simple scams like this one were foolproof. Until I met you.
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The second time you said “I love you”, you were blackout drunk and five seconds away from falling off the bar.
Before I met you, Y/N, I was a traveller. I had lived through the development of new settlements and the discovery of faraway lands, and so I was always off to a fresh destination for a new adventure. When I ventured into your town, I was planning to only pass through, maybe stay a couple of nights before I headed off to my next stop. A quick chat with the inn-keeper who had an exploitable tendency to overshare led me to you, the child of an aristocrat father who happened to own a lot of land that would likely sell for enough money to make me a virtual millionaire. Remarkably, after you turned my offer down, I felt no desire to leave your town. For once in my life, I decided to stay put in one place until I could convince you to change your mind.
I frequented your estate a lot more after that day, much to your dismay. No matter what I said, no matter how sweet I made my words sound, you refused to give up your rights to your land. It was frustrating for me, Y/N, that you wouldn’t give in. At the same time, I acknowledged I could have just walked away and found someone else to scam, but I didn’t want to. You soon accepted the fact that seeing my face around your farm would be a given, and started putting me to work with you. 
Cleaning the horse stables, bundling up handfuls of hay, tending to a vegetable patch. I never saw what we were doing as work, though. For me, I used the time I spent with you to get you to talk about yourself and reveal information I could use as blackmail so you would hand over your estate. You never did, though, and although I realised this I still couldn’t help myself from coming over to your farm every morning. I’m sure your father was confused as to why I was always there, but he never complained because, after all, it was free labour.
Our relationship at this point was very much a love-hate relationship. I despised you for the fact you were immune to my demon charms, but I also couldn’t stay away from you. You hated me because I was constantly asking you to sell your estate, but you couldn’t seem to turn me away when I showed up every morning. Whether we wanted to admit it at the time or not, there was no denying that we were drawn to each other. 
I saw the looks you gave me, Y/N. That time when your father joked about me being your boyfriend, I saw you roll your eyes, but I also saw the way you carefully watched my reaction to your father’s words. You never noticed the way I looked at you when you were busy working, or when your eyes lit up as you talked about your passions. I was too careful to let you see something like that.
When you invited me to the local pub for the first time, you didn’t appear to be worried about being seen in public with an unknown man. I asked why you didn’t just go with some of your aristocrat friends, and you said they couldn’t keep up with your pace of alcohol consumption. Secretly, I was flattered you’d invited me. I quickly found myself regretting accepting the invitation when you ordered multiple rounds of mysterious foul tasting liquor and downed them in quick succession. This was the night that I found out you were a happy drunk.
I didn’t touch a drop of that poison, so you drank my share for me and were soon dragging me off my stool to dance. When the live band realised they had an audience, they picked up the pace and I found myself being swung around in circles by you, pulled in close, and then unceremoniously dipped low before we repeated the routine all over again. 
I was completely sober, but it was fascinating for me to watch how you charmed the socks off other patrons. I remember thinking, for a fleeting second, whether you had some demon blood in you because I’d never seen someone get along with so many others that easily. Together, we teamed up and had the whole pub rambunctiously roaring with laughter well into the night, and even invented our own dance that we taught to the others and then all collectively performed.
I knew it was time for us to take our leave when you pulled yourself onto the bar and attempted a jig (or maybe it was a jive?), looked me in the eye, and told me you loved me. The patrons around us shrieked at your admission, but I was too worried about how close your foot was getting to the bar edge to fully comprehend what you had said. Just as I predicted, you tumbled from the bar straight into my open arms, and without another look back I carried you out of the pub and we headed to your home. When we reached your estate, the same one I had just recently decided to stop trying to con you out of owning, I asked you if you were serious when you said you loved me. You turned, gave me a knowing smirk, tapped the side of your nose, and said, “drunk words are often sober thoughts.”
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The third time you said “I love you”, I was giving up everything that made me, me.
“Drunk words are often sober thoughts.” That phrase had become a staple in our relationship in the months since that night at the bar. To us, it meant something along the lines of “you know I love you”. You were now old enough to be married off but much to your father’s chagrin you refused to be, and instead lived in a small cottage at the back of your estate. It soon became my home too, although we never established what our relationship really was. Every time I tried to ask you whether we were exclusive, or whether we were dating, you simply replied, “drunk words are often sober thoughts,” while tapping the side of your nose. Even when your father tried to inquire why I, the unpaid farm boy, was now living with you, you told him the same thing you said to me.
Although our inside joke was ambiguous and a little confusing at times, one thing was glaringly obvious - we were meant to spend the rest of our lives together. Neither of us knew when I had gone from the annoying conman to essentially your live-in boyfriend, nor did we know when our animosity towards each other transformed into affection, but it didn’t matter. We were happy, and drunk words are often sober thoughts. 
The only problem was that I was a demon, and you were human. Because of my immortality, you would die in about sixty years and I wouldn’t have aged a day. At this point, I couldn't imagine living my life without you. I’d stayed in the same town for over a year, for goodness sake! The decision to give up my immortality for you was one of the easiest I’d ever made.
I do regret not telling you what I was planning to do, though. We were two people in love in the 1850s, and I can imagine what your reaction would have been if I told you I was a demon. I’d probably be locked up in a mental institute, or maybe you’d even call the police on me. There is a ritual every demon knows that unbinds them from their immortality, though I have never heard many stories about it actually happening because, after all, who would want to give up their slick demon tongue and literal eternal life?
The day I did the ritual, you had planned to travel to a distant city for trade on behalf of your father, but something happened with your cart and you were forced to turn back, coming home right in the middle of my turning. I like to imagine that I was probably floating mid-air with glowing red eyes, given how loud you screeched when you opened the door. I felt so bad for you, Y/N. You rushed to me and tried to pull me from the ritual, but by this stage I was in a trance, physically unable to move, and the process was irreversible. You probably thought that I was dying, and that you’d have to live without me, because you held me close and for the first time in months you said, “I love you” rather than “drunk words are often sober thoughts.”
A few hours later, the ritual was complete. In your shock at my state, the thought of calling the police (or an exorcist) had vanished from your mind and you’d stayed beside me the whole time. When I was able to, I explained what I’d done and that I’d given up my immortality for you. I’m sure you were scarred from finding me like that, Y/N, but you were just happy that I was alive and safe. Now that the ritual was complete, we could spend the rest of our natural lives loving each other.
Well, that is what we’d hoped, at least.
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The last time you said “I love you”, you were dying in my arms.
It happened so quickly, Y/N. So, so quickly. One day you were fine, and the next you couldn’t even get out of bed. I watched powerlessly as you went from a normal, healthy person to someone with an extreme fever, headaches, nausea, and dehydration. Your father and I called the local physician, but even he didn’t know what you were suffering from. He thought it could possibly be the fever that we had seen outbreaks of up north, but there was no cure yet. I was told to make sure you were as comfortable as possible because the disease could take you at any second.
And take you it did.
Your headaches, fever, and nausea were so bad that you spent most of the day screaming with pain, but you eventually were able to fall asleep in the evening. I lay beside you, absolutely unable to close my eyes for even a moment in case something happened. You woke up from a series of restless fits and your eyes were wide open. You gestured wildly for me to come closer, to hold you, so I pulled you into my lap and cradled you near. Your skin was blisteringly hot, and as you looked up at me you managed to say, “I love you, Huang Renjun.”
And that was it. There was no dramatic seizing of your body or vomiting of blood. You just closed your eyes and passed away in my arms. Your skin that was so warm before slowly became cold, and it was only then that I had the sense to call for your family and tell them what had happened. It had only been a few weeks since I’d given up my immortality to live the rest of our lives together. Who would have guessed it would be so short?
I’m sorry if there are tears on this page. Y/N, we just had your funeral. I know you’d be happy at the number of people who turned up to celebrate your life. It was held inside the church with the stained glass windows, the ones you always pointed out when we walked by. I made a wreath out of some wild flowers I found growing on our property. My handiwork was a little bit shabby - I’m still getting used to this less dexterous human body of mine - but I think you would have liked it. Your family, friends, and many people I didn’t even recognise all cried. I cried too, of course. Harder than everyone else combined, I imagine. 
Your father decided you’d want to be buried on the estate you would have inherited when he died, so we picked a serene little space under a great oak tree for you to rest. I think you would have liked that, too.
I don’t exactly know why I am writing this letter. It’s not like I can...send it to you. I am feeling such overwhelming levels of grief right now that I thought writing down my feelings would help, but if you couldn’t tell already by the tear stains, I think it’s just made the pain of losing you even worse. I still haven’t fully accepted the fact that you’re no longer here. I spent the first night without you in our bed, alone. Your father offered me the cottage to live in for free. Since it is part of the estate, it legally belongs to him, and I think he wanted me to have it as a reminder of you. I said no.
I can’t live in a place that is so full of you, where every corner is a reminder of the life we could have had together. It also felt so wrong to have the place I spent so long trying to scam you out of handed over to me for free. I knew I couldn’t do that to you, Y/N. I thought about traveling, too. God, it’s been so long since I’ve done that. Ever since I met you, I finally had a reason to settle down and stay in one place. Anywhere you wanted to go, I would have gone too. But you decided to live in this town, and this is where you died. So I don’t know if I can walk the same streets we walked together without you anymore.
“Drunk words are sober thoughts.” Throughout our whole relationship, I never told you I loved you. I always said that instead. It was our inside joke, after all. We never made our relationship official, either, though everyone accepted that we were together. Honestly, I don’t really regret not telling you I loved you, or asking you to be my partner. I know you knew I loved you, the same way I knew you loved me, without ever having to say it. That’s just how our relationship is. How our relationship was.
I also don’t regret giving up my immortality for you. You know I love you, and I would have done anything for you, no questions. It seemed to be the appropriate thing to do at the time, when we thought we would spend the rest of forever together. Sure, I am now stuck in a mortal body with no idea what I am going to do with myself, but there’s no way I could go back to the way I was living, anyway. 
You changed me, Y/N, you completely and utterly changed me. I don’t know what the future holds for me, or how long I will even live for myself, but I hold onto the knowledge that whatever I do, I do it because of you and the influence you had, and will forever have, over me. 
I think, for me, I face a lifetime of missing you, although I know one day we will surely be together again. We were never too vocal about our love for each other, but one thing we both agreed on was that there was almost some metaphysical force willing us to be together, and I doubt that is something that just stops with death.
My hand is starting to cramp up, and it’s getting hard to see the paper due to my tears, so I think I should leave this here. I can’t wait until I see you again, and I just know you will be as beautiful in death as you were in life - that’s just who you are. Remember, “drunk words are often sober thoughts,” Y/N.
Until we meet again,
Renjun.
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this is my favourite thing i've ever written because i love to make myself cry!
© 0606-hyuck 2021. All Rights Reserved.
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amane-by-together · 3 years
Text
Hanafuda || Amane Yugi
(Part 1 of 10)
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genre: fluff, school, slice of life, modern au (where all wonders live)
summary: amane yugi spends his school days skipping classes until he meets [name] [surname], a student from the other class, who was also skipping classes and eventually the two of them formed a platonic friendship. cutting classes and playing hanafuda together strengthens their friendship but soon unexpected feelings blossom between the two.
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“Amane-kun.” [name] was shuffling the hanafuda cards together for them to play, she glanced over to the choppy haired boy who was sitting crossed legged against the rooftop's railings. “You going to the next class?”
“Nah.” Amane answers while fiddling with his locks of hair. “We probably skipped three classes this day, wanna skip classes in fourth period?” he smirked playfully.
“What class do you have in fourth period?” [name] asked, giving Amane some seven hanafuda cards. “Math?”
“Literature.” He received the cards and scooted in front of her. [name] flashed him a quick grin, her competitive side is showing all of a sudden when it comes to hanafuda. Amane stared at his cards and groaned. “Ugh, why do I get the worse cards?”
“I dunno, I wasn't looking when I was shuffling them.” [name] purses her lips together as she analyzes her cards. Her [eye color] colored eyes met with Amane's amber eyes. “Hm. Let's start!”
“You go ahead, [name]-san.”
“Hm~? Alrighty then~” [name] stretched her arms and let out a satisfying sound from her lips. She placed a sakura card with the tag to its match and took another card from the stack and placed it along with the cards on the center since it has no match. “Winner gets to sleep in the loser's lap.” she added.
“[name]-san, you know so damn well I'm not good with these things.” he murmured with a blush while putting a matsu card on the center.
Amane met [name] by chance. He often skip classes alone week by week, no one seemed to notice his absence which was fine by him. One day, he decided to stay on the rooftop and saw a girl sitting by herself with her phone. It must be fate or a coincidence, he thought.
The thing is, he has never seen this girl from the classes he attended to so he assumed that she's from the different class where Tsukasa, his twin brother, is. “Tsukasa-kun?!” she exclaimed at their first encounter. “What the frickety frack are you doing here?!”
Amane scratches his cheek and sweat dropped. He spoke. “I'm not Tsukasa though, I'm his older twin.”
[name] blinked she stood up from the bench and went over to Amane. The choppy haired boy slightly backed away from her. “Your tone is lowered down a bit, your eyes shaped like the crescent moon, yeah you're not Tsukasa-kun.” she muttered.
“I'm Amane Yugi, first year highschool, from class A.” he introduced himself while twiddling his fingers. “I'm Tsukasa's older brother though.” he chuckled.
“[name] [surname], same year as you but I'm from class B. Nice to meet you, Amane-kun.” [name] sat back down to the bench, she patted the extra space next to her. “Come, sit next to me.”
Amane hesitated a bit but shrugged and sat next to [name]. The female grinned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I guess you're skipping classes like me.”
“I've been skipping multiple times, no one noticed it yet, how about you?” Amane scooted closer till their shoulders touched, his bangs became parted from the side due to the slight wind that passed by.
“I started skipping on the beginning of first year.” [name] pulls out a packet of melon bread and gave it to Amane which he gratefully accepts it. Amane and [name] ate in pure silence, munching on to the bread that [name] bought recently which was originally for herself.
During those days of skipping classes, they would play hanafuda together on the rooftop. [name] would frequently win during their matches, guess luck really isn't compatible with Amane. The two of them quickly became close due to their meet ups when they're skipping classes together.
“Amane-kun, I know you have the full moon bright card.” [name] eyed him suspiciously but a shadow casted over to her face with a funny glint in her eyes. She placed an ume card with a red tag on it. “Red Poetry Tags, I win again~!”
“I couldn't even get a lot of yaku combinations.” Amane helped [name] to clean up the cards. “I knew I should give up the plain cards.”
Amane blushed at the thought of [name] laying down on his lap, he doesn't even know what to do when that happens, maybe he should play with her hair or massage her cheek?
[name] happily laid down on his lap, Amane grabbed his hoodie and placed it on top of her skirt. “Ne, [name]…” his hands reached over to caress her hair with his fingers. “Let's have lunch together.”
“Sure, I don't really have someone to share my lunch with,” Amane looked down on her laying on his lap and gave her a soft smile. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and started to pet her head, he reminded her of a cat. [name] would often keep her distance from others makes her cat-like according to him.
Though there's a part of [name] that doesn't want to open up to people, Amane was pretty much the same as her. “I got tired from work, yesterday.” he mentions with a small chuckle.
“Wait, you have a part time job?” [name] asked as her eyes piqued in interest, wanting to know what he does for work. “Where?”
Amane's cheeks grew warm, he slightly drooped his eyes and said. “I'm not telling you.”
“Why though?”
“You'd probably show up if I did.”
[name] turned her head to face his embarrassed look. She smiled playfully while wiping a dramatic tear from her eye. “You know me so well.” she faked a sniff.
“It's embarrassing...” Amane grumbled. [name] reached her hand out and placed it on to his cheek. He leans against her touch, the feeling of warmth and serenity made him smile a bit.
“But it's not. The fact that you're working is admirable.” [name] assured him with a smile unbeknownst to her that Amane's heart definitely skipped a beat on that act. “Pinch~” she cheekily grins while pinching his cheek.
“Owsh—” Amane tried to say while his cheek is being pulled by [name] and by that she releases her cheek. “That hurts...” he pouted.
“Have this for payback.” Amane returned the favor by pinching her cheek. Her cheeks were like mochi, which he likes to point it out just to tease her. “Mochiii~”
[name] deadpans. “You're treating me like some kind of mochi instead of a person.”
“Exactly.” The bell suddenly rang interrupting the two teens. Amane grabbed his bag that was on the bench. [name] punched a hole on the juice box using a straw and took a sip.
Amane leaned back against the railings, unboxing his lunch and ate. [name] didn't feel like eating, a juice box can satisfy her stomach after all. “[name]-san, don't you have lunch?”
“I forgot it at home.” she replied nonchalantly, she kept on having a stoic face until her stomach betrayed her by letting out a small growl. Amane stop eating halfway at the sound. “That’s nothing~” she denied that she was hungry.
“Here, I’ll give you some of my lunch.” Amane picked up a piece of egg roll using his chopsticks and raised it in front of [name]. “Say ahh~”
“O-Oi!” [name] flinched as she backed away from him. Amane’s brow creases in pure confusion. “Y-You don’t have to...”
“I can’t let you skip lunch, [name]-san.” The choppy haired boy smiled while putting the egg roll near her mouth, then his smile turned into a painful one. “Just take a bite, my hand is getting tired.”
[name] sighed in defeat, she was very hungry and was wrong about the juice box making her full. She tucked a hair behind her ear and ate the egg roll that Amane offered for her, his heart skipped a beat whilst she pulled away. “I guess, sharing lunch is not a bad idea...”
“Also, your lunch tastes good.” [name] scooted next to Amane to see his boxed lunch, she pointed at the ghost-shaped sausages, the bunny shaped rice balls and egg rolls. “You made that?”
Amane nodded with a slight blush on his face but the smile on his face didn't falter. “Well yeah, at the first time I made one of these they were all sloppy but practice makes perfect so I'm able to make one. If you'd like, I'll make you one or we can be matching too~!”
“Let's have matching lunches, duh.” [name] opens her mouth and ate another piece of egg roll that Amane was offering her. “But before that, I'll make us some lunch for us to share.”
“[name]-san, here have a sausage.” Amane feeds her the ghost-shaped sausages which the latter hummed contently. Amane took a bite on one of the sausages, he pulled out his phone and swallowed his food. “Hey, [name]-san,”
[name] stopped chewing her food. “Hm?”
“Wanna go home early?” Amane said with a mischievous grin, he's mostly the bad influence when it comes to reckless things like skipping classes. [name] had no idea why he has a lot of plans regarding this. “This is getting boring, don't cha think so?”
“And how do we plan to sneak out from school?” [name] asked, quirking a brow whilst waiting for an answer.
“We can jump off the roof.” Amane suggests.
“No. We'll freaking die if we did or even break our bones.” [name] shuddered. “If we did, they'll think it's just some lovers' su—”
“Nevermind that then.” Amane flailed his hands in front of her. “I guess we should wait till dismissal then...”
“Wanna play again?” [name] asked as she showed him the small box containing the cards.
Amane smiled. “Sure.”
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Amane sat alone on a concrete bench, listening to the soft pitter patter of the rain surrounding him. Holding the clear umbrella from his right hand, he sighed as if he's gonna make a monologue or something.
He has friends from his class but none of them made him feel real. The only person who can make him feel like himself was no other than [name].
[name], to Amane, was everything to him. Meeting her was fate as if they were meant to meet in the first place. Back then, Amane admired some girls yet only because they're pretty. None of them were ever even close to him, he only felt shallow for them.
“Sorry for making you wait—” [name]'s voice cuts him off from his inner monologue. She held up her school bag on top of her head to prevent her from the rain. She grins blithely. “You don't have to be sitting the exact same way.”
“My uniform is a bit soaked.” [name] added with a wince. Amane licked the side of his lip and stood up to put the umbrella above her. “It was literally sunny recently.”
“Hm, I'll be taking you home.” Amane hands her the umbrella to [name], went over to his bike and puts his school bag in the basket. “Which way is your house?”
“That's like a novel way to put it but I guess that works.” [name] pointed out. “Sounds like a romance cliche, not gonna lie, lmao.”
Amane stepped on to his bike, [name] held on to his shoulders from behind. He was thankful that she didn't get to see his blushing face, because that's lowkey what every guy felt when there's a girl behind them on a bike.
Amane started pedalling. [name] closes the umbrella and sits down instead. “It stopped raining, by the way.” she declared.
[name] wrapped her arms around his torso and that's how Amane's face erupt in a huge blush. “[name]-san?!” he stammered at the sudden action.
“...Don't say a word about this.”
“I'm sorry, what?”
[name]'s face flushes, she buried her face on his back and that's where his heart started to beat faster. Out of all the girls he admired throughout the years, his feelings for [name] is different.
How so you may ask? When Amane is around [name] it's like he's sitting on a fluffy pink cotton candy or maybe standing on water that reflects a pastel pink sky with soft looking clouds with her. “You know, with you hugging me from behind isn't that kinda...” Amane turned his head towards [name] and smirked playfully. “Bold for you~?”
[name] tightens the hold in irritation. “Ack—” Amane's hold on the handle became wobbly but managed to maintain his balance. [name] elicits a small giggle in return.
“Hm, wanna skip again tomorrow?”
“If its with you, why not?”
“You're so cheesy.” [name] slightly smacked his shoulder. Amane turned ahead, a smile forming from his lips.
‘Nonetheless, I don't really mind skipping with you even if it means being with you...’
“Hold on tight, we're going downhill!” Amane gripped on the handles of his bike. [name]'s eyes widened when she saw that that they were about to go down on a slope.
“Cheers to us delinquents!” [name] cheered before they go down to the road.
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Definition and terms:
hanafuda - flower cards that can be played in a variety of games such as koi koi (the type of game that [name] and amane are playing with the cards)
sakura - cherry blossom
matsu - pine tree
ume - plum blossom
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-end of part 1-
thank you for reading, make sure to like and reblog if you love this post~
taglist: @closetwaffle @closetweebsmh
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lauwrite1225 · 3 years
Text
Somebody to die for.
Finan x OC; The Old Guard inspired Alternative Universe
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Summary : Victoria's life is rather simple until she has a car accident from which she ends up miraculously unscathed. A series of weird events animates her daily life, everything seemingly bringing her to a strange man. Until this very man knocks at her door.
Spotify Playlist • Masterlist
A/N : Happy Finan Friday!! Moodboard a little special today as it's Sophie and Osferth centred instead of the story this time 😉
Warnings : fluff ;) and mention of death!
Chapter 10 : This is not what you wanted
Vicky is getting used to how her dreams work. The first night, she dreams of the person's death, waking up abruptly with an erratic breath after having felt the coldness of death running through her veins. Then the following nights it’s a mess of memories from a huge variety of periods of time. She sees so much during this phase that she rarely remembers everything, but she wakes up at the same emotion that the person felt. 
That’s how one early morning, when the sunlight shyly starts to fight the darkness, she wakes up with tears in her eyes and a deep sadness tearing her heart apart. Finan’s hand is on her cheek, his thumb wiping her tears as she breathes slowly to make the emotion fade.
 “Are ya alright?” He asks when she finally meets his eyes in the dark.
“Yes, I’m fine. Sorry for waking you up.” She apologizes, turning on her side to face him, his hand leaving her face to rest on her waist.
Over a week has passed since the night they first kissed and even if they haven’t yet made it official to their hosts, Finan keeps sleeping with her. He also steals her kisses when they are just the two of them which amuses her a lot, making her feel like they are teenagers. However, she knows that the bond, no matter how confused it still is, that ties them together is far more than an infatuation.
“It's alright.” He smiles briefly before he starts to look more concerned. “Ya've been tossin' around for awhile now.”
She bites her lower lips as memories of her dreams emerge and she moves to settle against him. She closes her eyes, his fingers playing with her hair kindly, easing the tension in her body. Slowly, she remembers the story. It was cold, very cold and Sihtric was walking in the snow, his clothes wet and sticking to his skin. By his side there was Osferth, in a pretty much similar state, holding his rifle tightly against his chest. The two warriors looked miserable as they were shouting a name that she can't remember. They walked for hours in the forest until they suddenly stopped in front of a body. The man was laying in the white snow, a puddle of blood freezing around him, his chest perforated multiple times and his blue eyes opened wide to the sky. It was Uhtred.
Now she remembers what Osferth told them the day they arrived. Sihtric fell to his knees next to his Lord, shaking his body vigorously, wanting him to come back. The Dane furiously shouted at him to wake up, slapping him. Tears warmed his cold cheeks as they trickled down his face. Osferth kept questioning him in panic on why Uhtred didn't come back yet and Sihtric only yelled at him angrily that he didn't know. And so they waited hours in the cold winter, shivering under the heavy rain that started to fall. But Uhtred never moved, his skin turning blue and his eyes still contemplating Valhalla.
Finan's hand that grazes on her arm brings her back to reality. “I dreamt of Uhtred's death.” She finally tells him and she feels him freeze underneath her.
He doesn't ask any questions and she doesn't talk more of it, both of them knowing the wound is still too recent for the Irishman.
The days are pretty much like usual, starting every of Victoria's mornings with her training. She is getting better with the rifle, and even if she misses the feel of Finan behind her to guide her, she is proud to be able to succeed on her own. She also improves in close combat, now knowing where to hit to force her opponent to bend double. Sometimes, when she's making another task she whispers the combination of movements he taught her earlier. However, her practice has a tendency to raise a tension between them when they fight that hasn't yet been resolved.
“I win.” Finan whispers in her ear, out of breath after making her fall, keeping her firmly on her stomach against the floor and folding her arm behind her back.
She tries to hit him with her free hand to free herself, groaning when he easily grabs her wrist and presses it in the mud. He chuckles at her attempt and leans until his chest grazes over her back. She gasps a breath at his closeness, a warmth growing low in her belly as his lips hover over the shell of her ear.
“Do ya give up?”
“I never admit defeat.”
He laughs again despite the determination in her tone and frees both of her wrists. He holds himself above her as she rolls onto her back and she shivers when she notices the heat in his eyes. Her tongue snakes between her lips, the sight of it making a smirk grow on Finan's face. She grabs his shoulders to pull him down to her and he closes his eyes in anticipation of meeting her lips. But instead it's her knee that meets his stomach, hitting him right in the liver. Finan growls in pain, falling back beside her in the dirt, his arms wrapped around his waist. She can't help but giggle as she straddles him proudly.
“I told you I'm never admitting defeat.” She tells him when his features twisted by the ache start to ease.
They quickly separate when they hear Sophie's car approaching, both of them sitting in the mud when she gets out of it. She stares at them with wide eyes when she closes the vehicle's door. “Eh bah, have you seen yourselves?”
They frown before looking at each other and noticing the dirt on their faces but also clothes. “Collateral damages.” Finan grins as he stands back to his feet and stretches a hand out for Vicky to grab.
Sophie rolls her eyes. “You two should wash before we eat.”
It's only when they are cleaned that the French woman allows them to sit at the table for lunch, much to Vicky's joy whose belly is aching.
“How's your dreams going?” Osferth asks her when he puts salad on his plate before handing her the bowl.
She hesitates a moment, remembering her last dream. “It's still confused, old memories. But it will soon be more recent ones and I'll be able to have real clues on where he is.” She explains.
Osferth nods and stares down to his plate. “It's really strange, once I met you, I stopped dreaming of you.”
“I did too. Once I'll have met Sihtric, I should be rid of it.” She shrugs and rests the bowl in the middle of the table.
“Really strange.” The monk repeats, a long silence taking his words away.
Though, to everyone's surprise, Finan breaks the silence. “Maybe it's because we are meant to meet each other.”
Victoria looks up from her plate to find that Finan is staring at her from across the table, his gaze intense but nonetheless soft. She tries not to blush, knowing she had the same thought a few days ago, that everything may be written.
His words stay in her mind until night time, when she watches him poke the fire before heading to bed. He removes his hoodie and lets it drop to the floor, doing the same with his t-shirt. Even if she has seen him a few times shirtless since they met, right now seeing the flames' light dance on his scarred skin really does something to her. For a week they've been teasing each other but never a step further but now she has enough of it. She stands up and grabs his wrist before he can take his sweater for the night. He raises a surprised and confused eyebrow at her, opening his mouth to speak but he doesn't even have the time to say a word before she captures his lips. He growls in their kiss when her palms graze over his chest to curve around his neck or to let her fingers curl in his hair.
The feel of his warm skin under her hands makes her crave to feel it against hers. She chuckles when he grips her hips to guide her to the bed. She drops on it, bringing him in with her fall. She hums when he kisses down her jaw and neck, closing her eyes to relish the sensation. Their breathing gets heavier and their hands grow more adventurous, eager to discover each other.
But when Vicky grabs the end of her pullover to get rid of it, Finan suddenly covers her hands to stop her movement. She frowns at him as he looks in the direction of the front door intently, looking alert.
“What is it?” She asks him, her breath still heavy.
“I've heard a noise.” He whispers and when she opens her mouth to demand more information about it, he prevents her with his hand. “Hush.” He orders her and she reluctantly obeys.
He removes his hand and leaves the bed, grabbing his sweater to put it back on, which makes Victoria roll her eyes in an annoyed. He takes the Colt resting on a furniture and carefully walks to a window, his back against the wall to not make himself visible from outside. Vicky stares at him intently, still waiting impatiently for more explanation. But the sudden sound of a vehicle arriving in the clearing startles her and Finan growls a bunch of Irish insults when a white light starts to alight the room from outside.
“What’s that?” She asks him in panic as she stands up but he doesn’t answer.
Finan moves to knock at Osferth’s door, but it opens before, revealing the confused monk. The two men exchange a nervous gaze before taking Finan’s previous position against the wall. Sophie joins Vicky near the bed, her teeth biting nervously into her lips. They can hear the agitation outside, men shouting orders to encircle the house while the blinding car’s light keeps alighting the area.
“Are they the men that attacked you in London?” Osferth asks after glancing outside.
“I don’t know, but I doubt they want us any better.” Finan grumbles, his fingers scratching his beard nervously.
Victoria makes a step further to catch the men’s attention. “We need to get out of here.” She declares, even if it’s a pretty obvious fact to all of them.
“The house is encircled, Vicky.” Finan replies, his finger making a loop. “It’s too risky.”
“But we don’t die!” She frowns, ready to run away at any moment, not fearing the bullets that could reach her if the men are armed, which they undoubtedly are.
Finan’s jaw twitches at her sudden rise of confidence but he doesn’t have the time to contradict her when Osferth replies: “But Sophie does.”
The three immortals turn their eyes to the French who just looked at them alternatively. “Don’t look at me like that!” She orders them, hating to be their weak point.
Finan shakes his head and stares back at Vicky. “It would be too risky anyway. If they are good shooters, the time we’ll need to come back will be enough to get caught. We need a bet-”
A voice rising in the sudden calm outside stops Finan in his sentence.
“We don’t want you any harm!” A man shouts with what Vicky guesses is a light german accent. A simple look at the two warriors is enough to tell her that they already disbelieve him. Though, they don’t reply and listen as he continues to speak. “All we want is Victoria Davis. We know she’s here.”
Vicky’s breath runs short at the mention of her name, her heart beating faster in fear as memories of London come back to her, a shiver running down her spine when she remembers the cold edge of the gun against her temple. Finan mumbles a bunch of insults, trying to have a better look on the outside.
“Do you think it’s them again?” Osferth asks the Irishman again and this time his answer is more certain.
“It must be.”
Finan glances at Vicky, with a worry she didn’t expect but it clearly increases hers. She can’t understand what they want from her, and why when they are encircling Osferth’s house they aren’t even asking for him. Questions without answers multiply in her mind and she feels her lungs starting to have difficulties filling with air. The man outside speaks more urgently and Finan looks back to Osferth.
“They can hide in the basement and we just try to convince them that she’s not here.” Finan proposes, which sounds like a lopsided plan but also their only one.
“What if they take you instead?” Sophie questions them, her hand resting on Vicky’s shoulder to try to ease her.
“They don’t want us, maybe don't even know us, the worst they can do is to kill us which isn’t that much of a problem.” He wryly answers before turning to Osferth to have his opinion.
The monk agrees, seeing no better way and they head to the hatch leading to the basement. While Osferth opens it quickly, Vicky grabs Finan’s arm nervously. She is the reason for this whole situation, of the risk they are taking and she is hating that. She couldn’t bear it if something happened to one of them. Maybe she should just obey the man to keep them safe. But she has no idea of what they want from her, why she is so precious to them that they have to engage the great means. She thinks of it, balancing the pros and cons, her fingers tightening around Finan’s arm.
“Vicky?” His voice makes her blink, coming back to reality. Sophie is already climbing down the ladder, Osferth handing her the oil lamp. “It’s goin’ to be alright.” Finan takes her chin between his fingers to force her to look at him and he smiles confidently.
She wishes she has the time to tell him how unsure she is about this plan but he kisses her forehead softly before pushing her to the basement opening. She joins Sophie downstairs, the room illuminated by the only weak flame of the lamp. It’s cold and she wraps her arms around her chest while Osferth closes the hatch. They can hear them push what Vicky supposes is the bed over the opening and she can’t help but bite her inner jaw, if they don’t come back, they are both stuck here.
In the basement, the time seems to stretch. Victoria knows it’s been only a few minutes since they are here but she feels like she’s been staring at Sophie pacing the length of the room for an hour. Vicky would like to find the words to reassure her, but she’s tormented by her own worry. So she sits on the floor, her back against the wall and tries to listen to what's happening outside. But it’s barely possible, the stones muffling any voice. Though, they perfectly hear the shot resounding in the whole forest. Sophie stops suddenly, her hands covering her mouth while Vicky looks up to the ceiling as footsteps create a real cacophony. Her heart beats terribly hard in her chest. Is it one of the men who’s been shot? She doubts it, so it must be Finan or Osferth. She knows they’ll be both fine in the end, they must be, so she just tries to slow her breath, as if the men upstairs could hear her if she dares to breathe too loudly.
After too much time to both women’s opinion, the footsteps fade and engines sound arise before a complete silence finally settles. It lasts for long other minutes during which Vicky can even hear her heartbeats in her ears. Sophie still hasn’t moved from her spot, her teeth sinking into her index to calm her anxiety. When they finally hear the bed being pulled away from the hatch, they both let out a heavy sigh of relief and walk to the ladder.
“They are gone.” They hear Osferth say as he opens the door.
“Osferth!” Sophie climbs up first and Vicky is outside as well, the French is hugging the monk tightly, his arms around her waist. “Are you fine?” She asks him, her voice breaking after sobbing. She takes a step back to check herself if he is indeed healthy, and her face falls when she notices the blood on his clothes. “Mon Dieu, you’re bleeding!”
She tries to take a better look at his wound but he catches her hands. She glares at him and before she can protest he cuts her off with a soft kiss. It releases her shoulder from a part of the tension she’s been carrying and when he moves away she is smiling shyly. Though, Osferth's expression doesn’t ease, his brows slightly furrowed and jaw strongly clenched. Vicky notices it before Sophie and starts to look around, though she already knows the answer. Finan isn’t here and Osferth is the one having been shot. Her throat tightens and her eyes start to sting as she feels the tears filling them at each of her blinks.
“Where’s Finan?” She finally asks Osferth, her breath stopping until he dares to answer.
“I… I don’t know.” He says, looking down shamefully. “They killed me and when I came back, they were gone and Finan too.”
Vicky doesn’t even give him the time to finish his sentence when she starts to walk to the front door, stepping outside and ignoring the breeze that is wrapped into her clothes as she starts to call Finan. She shouts his name while walking around the house and in the forest until there’s too many tears in her eyes and sobs prevent her to breathe correctly. Her heart is aching, torn apart between despair and guilt, and she has to lean against a tree to not fall over. She stays there for a while, sitting in the mud until Sophie comes to fetch her to hide from the starting rain.
A/N : Every peace comes to an end :((
Thanks for the comments! It's such a pleasure to read them and to answer them!! You are the bests 🥺💕 If you have any theory or even vague idea of what could happen next, I'm very curious to read them 👀👀
Tag :​ @for-bebbanburg @osferth @maggiescarborough ​ @finansarms ​ @dumbledoreisnotmyhubby @solinarimoon
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somersetmummy · 3 years
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(A/N) This chapter takes place right at the beginning of the story, prior to TNA Chapter 1. Some characters property of Pixelberry.
Original characters: Katie Hide (MC), Jenny Blake
New characters: Lucinda Hansen
Rating/Content Warning: Mild adult language
Word count: 2005
Summary: MC Katie Hide is an English rose, living in New York. She’s down on her luck and desperately needs a job before her visa expires and she’s sent back to London. A chance conversation with a friend leads to an unlikely opportunity. Little did she know that one little interview would change the course of her life forever.
- Bonus social edits at the end -
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Just like any other Thursday morning of recent weeks, Katie and Jenny were killing time together in their favourite coffee shop just down the street from their shared apartment. It had become Katie's haven and her go-to place when she wanted to lose herself for a few hours people watching, letting the stories of their lives unfold around her.
She'd always had a knack for paying attention to the details, noticing things which passed by most others. It was a skill she'd relied on heavily in her work, always giving her the edge, at least it had until the time it led to her downfall at Panacea Labs.
Katie had recently walked out of her job after piecing together a scheme under the radar to roll out a costly new drug for treating MS, despite there being multiple warning signs that it was ultimately ineffective but instead just masked the symptoms. Anyone else would've just glossed over the signs, not even noticing, but to Katie, the anomalies jumped off the page unmistakably. It was when she tried to escalate her concerns that she was shut down and her life in the lab made a misery by the VP, Declan Nash.
It hadn't taken long for her to realise that the company was more concerned about profits than actually helping people and she knew that the battle to fall in line and keep her job wasn't worth it. After calmly and quietly sending a company wide report on her findings, she gathered her things and walked out before she could be accosted by security. Little did she know that Nash had already been keeping tabs on her communications, in his eyes she was a trouble maker, and the report never saw the light of day.
Unfortunately for Katie, the current opportunities for young women in the biotech and pharmaceutical world just weren't what they should have been and she spent the next few weeks furiously searching for something else to avoid her work visa being revoked. 
Having moved from London to attend the New York Institute of Technology and graduating with a Masters in Chemistry & Bio Engineering three years ago, she'd fallen in love with the city and the life she'd built. She didn't know exactly what the future held and couldn't put her finger on why, but she had a very strong feeling that she needed to stay in New York.  
Today, Katie had planned to work through all the job adverts remotely relating to her experience and qualifications, with Jenny on hand to offer moral support. Tiring quickly of hitting one brick wall after another, they'd long forgotten the laptop and instead had spent the last 30 minutes idly chatting about Jenny’s upcoming gallery event when Lucinda arrived, phone to her ear, her body tense and voice sharp as she wrapped up a call with her boss.
"Of course I've got someone Angela, I wouldn't put my name in the mix if I didn't. My candidate is going to blow the others out of the water, I just know Mr Dalton will be impressed....no not just impressed, he'll be awestruck..."
While waiting for her to wrap up her call, Katie heads to the counter to order Lucinda a much needed coffee and returns to place it down in front of her just as she hangs up. She tosses her phone onto the table and slumps back in her chair, defeated.
Jenny stares her down waiting for an explanation which she and Katie both know Lucinda desperately wants to give but is holding off for dramatic effect.
After a long sip of coffee and a moment of holding her head in her hands she finally exhales.
"I am so SO SCREWED."
Katie and Jenny share a look before returning their attention to Lucinda.
"I've just promised my boss that I have the perfect candidate for some billionaire business man's nanny position....." She glares at them both as if they should understand why that's a problem. "I never touch these sorts of jobs, I only ever look for candidates in finance, nannying isn't worth my time."
Katie chooses her words carefully, knowing how Lucinda can bite back pretty quickly when she's stressed. Speaking softly, cautious not to poke the bear, she looks Lucinda in the eye and internally braces herself for whatever might come next.
"So what made this one so different?"
Fortunately Lucinda seems to finally be relaxing, she replies more quietly.
"Filling this position will put me on the map, nobody in the firm has been able to secure someone for this guy, they only seem to last a few weeks before they quit so the sign on bonus never kicks in. If I could find the perfect person I wouldn't only get a great bonus, I'd be next in line for promotion to Senior Head-hunter."
Her demanding demeanour melts away and she's left looking almost vulnerable. Something Katie knows Lucinda doesn't find at all comfortable.
"Anyway, I'll figure it out, I always do."
She gives Katie and Jenny a soft smile, allowing herself to momentarily forget about her woes so she can refocus the attention back to them.
"So what were you guys talking about before I came in?"
As Katie opens her mouth to speak Jenny cuts in on her behalf.
"Oh Katie's just been trying to work out how to get a job before her visa renewal date comes up in a couple of weeks."
Katie lets out a sigh of her own, suddenly remembering how dire her employment prospects are and feeling equally as defeated as Lucinda.
"I can't believe I've worked so hard for my degree, I found the perfect job in the perfect city but now it's all gone down the drain and I'm going to have to go back home and never see you all again."
Jenny wraps her arm around Katie's shoulders, pulling her close. "Oh come on, like you'd be able to shake us off. Even if you are in another country!"
As suddenly as Lucinda dramatically entered the coffee shop she slams her hand onto the table making the others jump.
"THAT'S IT!" She cries, her idea almost exploding out of her. "This is just too perfect...."
Katie and Jenny share a confused look before turning back to Lucinda who is practically foaming at the mouth, clearly onto something, though they're not quite sure what.
"You need a job, I need a candidate." She says in her signature matter of fact style.
Katie still has no idea where Lucinda's going with this.
"It's win win. I'll put you forward for the nanny position, you'll get a great job which means you get to stay in New York, I'll get my bonus. Not to mention I'll look like a damn superhero at work!"
The cogs start to turn in Katie's brain as she begins to digest what Lucinda is proposing.
"But I'm not a nanny....and what about my visa, it's only valid for work in relation to my degree."
Lucinda waves her hand at her, dismissing her concerns. "No problem there then. This guy's family owns one of the biggest Biotech companies in the country, surely that's related to your degree? He's so desperate for a successful match I'll make sure the visa thing is part of the contract."
She cuts back in quickly just as Katie opens her mouth to object.
"And as for you not being a nanny, what about all those times in the lab when you had to pull rank and sort out the shit that went down between your useless colleagues? You've done more nannying of adults in the last two years than most actual nanny's do in their whole career with children."
Jenny suddenly chimes in "OH MY GOD, this is genius!"
Defeated, Katie turns to look at Jenny in disbelief. She may have had a chance saying no to just Lucinda but with Jenny on board with this idea as well she may as well give up now.
"This will solve both your problems, I mean come on, who wouldn't want to work for this guy..."
Jenny turns her phone to Katie, clearly having been searching while she and Lucinda were talking. On the screen Katie sees the most devastatingly handsome man she's ever come across. He's nothing like the guys she'd known before, this person, was a real man and the sight of him caused her stomach to flip.
While undeniably handsome, it's not just the physical attraction that she's drawn to. Her eyes move to the company bio underneath his headshot and in true Katie style, she scans all of the accolades and achievements the company has to boast about. Her mind races at the possibilities. There's no mistaking that working for this man could open the door to so many opportunities and experiences in the future.
With a sigh she resigns herself to the fact that Lucinda might actually be on to something, this could be the break Katie had been waiting for and would certainly solve her imminent visa problems if she could get it taken care of as part of the contract negotiations.
With a silent nod and slight shrug of the shoulders, she begrudgingly agrees, much to the delight of her friends who squeal at each other in delight. Lucinda immediately pushes her shoulders back, standing to attention, furiously beginning to type on her phone.
"You TA'd for your old professor right?"
"Yes, I did a year as their assistant after graduating. Mainly doing research and going to conferences with her."
Lucinda's eyes never leave her phone as she works her magic, spinning Katie's words into an impressive resume. After a moment she raises her eyebrows and flits her eyes over to Katie, a small gesture which Katie realises is an invitation to elaborate.
"Oh, yeah so that's actually how I got into Panacea Labs, I met a rep at one of those conferences."
Jenny rolls her eyes at the mention of Katie's old company, now affectionately known by them both as Pariah Labs. Despite what she felt about Katie's previous employer, she was immensely proud of Katie's achievements and wanted to make sure they were included.
"Weren't you the youngest lab boss thingy they'd ever had?"
"Senior lab technician." Katie corrects, knowing full well that Jenny hasn't got a clue about the finer details of her work. "Well, yeah eventually, after two years of working my butt off. But I hardly think they'd rave about that in any reference they give me. If they even give one to begin with..."
Lucinda waves a dismissive hand at her.
"With this resume, you won't need any reference from those bastards. Trust me."
Katie had no idea what Lucinda had written or how she'd managed to spin her experience to be more favourable for a nanny position but it must've worked because half an hour later Lucinda slammed her hand down on the table once again, causing everyone around them to jump out of their skin.
"YES! It worked...he wants to see you, you've got an interview tomorrow at the Dalton Enterprises headquarters".
She turns her phone to Jenny to show off the email and they fall into an animated conversation, no doubt planning how they're all going to celebrate once Katie inevitably gets offered the job. As they fall into a blur in the background, Katie looks back over the picture of Sam Dalton on Jenny's phone, not quite sure how she can be so hypnotised by someone through a photograph.
There's something about him which feels familiar, something drawing her in. It's almost as if they're viewing each other through a looking glass and she wonders whether in this exact moment he is feeling the same magnetic pull towards her, a stranger whom he hasn't even met yet. Tearing her eyes away from the phone, Katie's tries to steady the stream of unanswered questions flooding her mind and focus on how she's going to win this man over.
"Here goes nothing."
TAG List: @shewillreadyou @chemist-ana @txemrn @silma-words @thefrenchiemama @secretaryunpaid @sfb123
- Bonus - pre-interview pep talk with the girls -
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kinghoranshit · 3 years
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The Watchers (1D) - 00 Hours
Part 1
I watched the names light up on our hologram. You never wanted to see your name listed. It meant someone put down a sum of money to have you killed during the 24 hour purge. If your name's not on the list, you're free to join in on the hunt or stay in your house; no one could kill you, but the sounds of screams were deafening. The amount of people who turned their backs on their loved ones, both figuratively and literally by killing them, was disgusting. There were even those "friends" who thought it'd be funny to list you.
Now, you're thinking that a purge is such a dumb idea. Want to know what's more stupid?
A bounty purge.
It's the government's way to keep the crime and gambling rates down, and those who may not be fortunate in their social class have a way to level up and gain funds. It became a sport for some. This was the 100th annual year and the names being listed were a lot of celebrities; normally the ratio of high and low status didn't fare this much.
My family and I were in resistance; my mom died trying to protect someone, now it was just my dad and I. We helped those whose names were on the list, not for free of course. We're like bounty hunters, but the opposite. A guard or babysitter sounds so lame though, so don't call me those.
I felt my eyes go wide when I saw all five names that formed One Direction. Who...would do this? They weren't even technically a group anymore; they only just started a virtual reunion tour. They all went solo long ago, so it didn't make sense as to why they would be grouped together. The amount of money put on their heads was ridiculous. Sadly, I didn't see them making it through the 24 hours, unless they have some great body protection, or are suddenly kickass in combat.
The blue hue to the hologram disappeared and it was silent darkness for a while. There were so many bounties this year. It was obvious that they didn't have a limit for the 100th year. There wouldn't be enough of us. Our organization, The Watchers, dropped by a third because it was such a significant milestone year for the bounty purge. I guess people became afraid again.
"Katie," my dad stated.
I sat up and looked at him. "Yeah, what's up?"
"You're being assigned to Niall Horan, Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik and Liam Payne."
I blinked my eyes a couple times then cupped my ear for dramatic effect. "I'm what? Say that again."
"Modest!, their management, has contacted The Watchers and asked for you specifically. I guess they must've seen how well you kept Selena Gomez safe last year."
Yes, this work has lent to meeting celebrities, but the conversation doesn't tend to get that far. Last year was Selena Gomez, and the previous was Brie Larson. Both were troopers, especially Brie, she was fun to hang out with when we weren't fighting others. She still messages me every now and then when she's not working.
I cleared my throat. "That's...dad, they've got the largest sum I've ever seen for a bounty. You know how many people will be going after them?"
He smirked. "Is...Katie Lee..scared of hunters?"
I scoffed. "No, I'm not. I just know when my odds of keeping said assignment safe are high or not."
"Sorry, kiddo, there's no getting out of this one. They've prepared to set you up on a hidden bunker and arm you with anything you need if someone happens to find it."
A hidden bunker? Any weapons I want? That doesn't sound like a bad negotiation. I've definitely been dealt with less advantages.
The hologram started up again and it was one of the leaders, Rump. A cynical grin played on his lips. This couldn't be good. It was never good when his face appeared.
"Hello everyone, now that the names have been presented, we would like to bring in a new factor to the 100th year of the bounty purge. Instead of 24 hours, it will be 72 hours. That is three whole days to find your prey and get your prize. Let the purge commence in 48 hours."
For once, I felt sick to my stomach. Is this what fear felt like? Three days to keep these five boys alive? Let's hope no one trying to kill them were great trackers or hackers; if the base was hidden well enough, I could set traps outside and inside. That was going to be a must with the new circumstances.
My teeth clenched and I let out a deep breath into my fists. I sat there thinking for a little bit longer. If I was going to even manage to keep a few of them alive, I needed to leave tonight.
I stood and went upstairs to pack the essentials; I don't care if I have the weapon vault of my fucking dreams, I will never leave my crossbow at home. Every save I've had over the last eight years has been with this crossbow. When I came back into the living with my duffel bag slung on my shoulder and crossbow in hand, my dad actually had a look of worry etched into his face.
"Be careful. I know The Watcher's word is 'assignment comes first, you come second', but if it becomes too much, you get yourself out of there, okay?"
"Dad..." I trailed, at a loss for words. I've never heard my dad speak against The Watcher's word.
"You hear me?" he pushed.
I cleared my throat with a nod. "Yeah, dad. I do."
He pulled me into a tight hug. "Good. Your transport should be here any moment."
I pulled back with a small smile. I was well aware this could be the last time I saw him, but I couldn't bring myself to say the three words. It was a mutual thing we both had. We knew we both loved each other.
I peeked out the front window to see the black sudan parked in our driveway. I gave my dad a peck on the cheek before I slipped out the front door and jogged to the sudan. I opened the driver side passenger door and threw my bag and crossbow in first.
"Please state your ID number," the driver ordered.
"Watcher 402, Katie Lee, reporting for duty."
Carl smirked. "Perfect."
"That never gets old for you, does it Carl?"
He shook his head. "Never."
I laughed and buckled myself up. I pulled out my tablet to find the recent file sent to me. It was everything I needed to know about my transport, the bunker we'd be hiding away in, and the contact info for the supplier.
"So...who are you babysitting this year?"
The driver's never get told who a Watcher's assignment is for reasons. But I've known Carl for years; he was always the one who took me to the helicopter.
I still answered, out of precaution, "An important band. That's all I'm saying."
"Really? A certain boy band?" he mocked.
"You know I won't say the name, but yes that one boy band."
"That'll be fun, I'm sure."
I rolled my eyes in response.
I busied myself with contacting the supplier to get my vault sorted. This was definitely the most reinforcements I'ved used. I felt probably an unsettling amount of excitement to get my hands on everything. I knew that in the line of action I would be less thrilled.
***
The helicopter landed on the last minute created pad. It was a circle created by rocks; a majority of them were like this. I knew that we were in upper Minnesota, near the lakes. I snatched my duffel and crossbow as I got out of the helicopter and followed the other Watcher that had been waiting for me. Now, I was guided to a different car that drove off deeper into the forest.
It looked secluded enough by the trees; the bear traps were going to hide perfectly in the bushes. And if that didn't stop them? I knew that the wiring, jumper cables, and car batteries were going to work wonders for every door and window, along with strips of nails at the edge of the entrance if they happened to surpass everything else. And if they also bypass that? Well, they'll have to go through me.
I'm going to Home Alone this motherfucker up.
I was guided to the front of the house and my jaw dropped at the beauty of the steel siding and roof. Okay, the blueprint did not mention the steel exterior. And from where I stood I could see the small security cameras. There's no way they just built this in a matter of a day. This has had to be used in prior purges.
I walked up the stairs and through the front door. It was...way too fancy. Glass tables and lighting fixtures everywhere, grey couches, a fucking duve in the bathroom, and multiple bedrooms.
What was I so worried about?
I dropped my bag off in the room that had my name on the door and then saw that the rest of the members also had their own rooms. There was one name that I didn't recognize so I went to the door and knocked. It just slowly opened by itself and I peered in.
There stood, a bubbly redhead. She jumped from being startled. "Oh! Hi, I'm Maddy, the onsite medic. You must be Katie, our Watcher."
I furrowed a brow. "Uh...Yeah, I am. This place is a fucking fortress. Why am I here?"
She laughed under her breath and continued to unpack her items. "Every fortress has a fault, and they always like a backup plan."
They must be Modest!. It was clear that this wasn't Maddy's first purge hired under them. Who else has been under their company that they had hidden here? I've never been on an assignment where they had an onsite medic ready.
"Fair...do you know where the band is at? I'm going to need their help."
"In the kitchen, I believe. I will be down to help as well. My station has already been cleaned and prepared."
That was eerily comforting to hear.
"Okay," I replied and left her to her own devices.
I didn't bother unpacking yet. I probably wouldn't to be honest. Getting comfortable never sits right with me. The voices grew louder and louder as I grew closer to them. It was clear they were having a good laugh despite the circumstances as to why we were all here.
I cleared my throat and they all stopped to look at me. I gave them a small wave. "Hi Niall, Louis, Harry, Zayn, and Liam. I'm Katie, your Watcher for the duration of this purge."
"A girl? They hired a girl, who looks to be younger than me, to keep us safe?" Liam remarked.
"Mate," Niall and Louis breathed and shook their heads.
I chuckled and stalked up to the brunette who currently had his hair looking like 2014 Harry.
"I can't make you like me. In fact, that's not part of my job description. But you should reconsider... My crossbow can manage a mile range and shoot three arrows at once. I can also build a gun in under a minute, have practiced in the art of knife throwing...and I have been known to get my hands dirty in a physical fight. What can you do to keep yourself safe, Liam boy?"
The other four held in their own snickers. Liam didn't flinch in the slightest. If anything, his "tough" exterior only hardened, which just made him look even weaker in my eyes.
"I don't buy it. Modest has to be messing with us."
I smirked. "I know your ass will be calling my name, begging me to protect you, as someone tries to machete your body to pieces. You better start playing nice, mate." I stepped back and gestured to the rest. "Come on, troops. We need to set up the traps."
Luckily, Zayn, Louis, and Maddy quickly picked up on how to set up the bear traps so I put them on that duty while the rest of us stripped the entrances with nails. Of course, I knew the risk of having them set the traps rather than myself, but there was a lot to do before tomorrow morning. An hour before the purge starts, I'll set up the electrical traps. Since there were steel doors that locked down, I planned to set the electric currencies in other spots.
I familiarized myself with the layout of the rich bunker as much as I could and the security camera room. Yes, there was an entire room dedicated to the security cameras. My vault was hidden in four different locations so I'd have something at any given moment.
That evening, we were all chit chatting at the dinner table, eating the grilled chicken and potatoes Niall cooked. This was probably one of the best meals I've had the night before a purge; it was weird to feel so at ease. I knew not to get too comfy.
"So Katie, how old are you?" Louis prompted as he took a swig of his beer.
"Yeah, you seem too familiar with all of this. How long have you been a Watcher?" Niall concurred.
I laughed under my breath and dropped the fork onto my plate. "Uh, well...I'm twenty-four, and this has been my life for as long as I can remember. Both of my parents were Watchers themselves. I started assignments when I was fifteen."
"Woah," Zayn remarked. "How many have you killed?"
"That..." I coughed into my hand and ran a hand through my hair. "Hard to say...I don't like to keep track."
Louis leaned back in his chair and looked down at his lap. "How many do you think you'll have to kill for us?"
I raised my brows in surprise. "With that sort of bounty over your heads, your guess is about as good as mine."
"Fuck," Niall scoffed and jugged the rest of his beer.
"To be honest, I've never felt this confident going into a purge. And we've got Maddy for any injuries, it doesn't seem like her first rodeo either."
She smiled sweetly and shook her head. "It's not, but...I've never actually had to jump in. This bunker has always held up."
"Hear that?" I asked. "It'll be..." I trailed off. I couldn't make any promises, even if our odds did seem to be in our favor. "It'll be just another purge."
That wasn't what I mean to say either. Their facial expressions right now broke my heart.
I clapped my hands as I stood up. "Okay, I say we all get to bed now. It will be an early start."
They all nodded and put their dishes away before going to their assigned rooms. Liam sat on the couch by himself. He didn't join us for dinner, nor did he eat. If he wanted to be a loner during this, then I'll treat him as such.
I padded over and sat down next to him.
"You know I'm only here to help. If you hate me, that's fine, but you need to be a team player for the rest."
Once again, he stayed silent. I truly didn't know what his deal was. I wasn't the best at reading that side of a person's mind. I pursed my lips before I got up and went to my own room.
I slipped into my own pjs before I did a few meditations. I set my alarm for six in the morning, the purge started at eight. This is all I have ever known. Preparing every single year to risk my life for someone else's, to defy against this ridiculous event, and if I died this year, it wouldn't be in vain.
Next part: 24 Hours
[Masterlist]
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ladyadalicialove · 4 years
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Me, says I will be on hiatus and probs won’t post anything cus exams and essays
Also me: procrastinating very hard
Don't mind me just salty about the new episode and what not...also I don’t want to finish my essay.
Anyway since Chat Blanc was basically fanservice that served no significant purpose to the plot of the show other than "what if" scenarios. I've decided to share some AUs to put some good wholesome content back into the fandom. 
Also I need to write these things down before I forget....
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Previous Holder is now your Babysistter AU
(I don’t have an actual name for it lmao suggestions?)
I’ve had this one in head for a couple of months now. The premise of this AU is the miraculous doesn't just come with the Kwami but a ghost/apparition of the previous holder. Unlike the kwami's they aren't what makes the suit or have any magical abilities. Rather they are just glorified babysitters, looking after and guiding the new holder the best they can. Some are some magical rules with them though:
Only the miraculous holder and thier Kwami can see them, when they are still in their civilian forms.
 They don’t disappear when the holder transform.
When other miraculous holders are transformed they can see other holder’s apparition, but when they undo the transformation they can no longer see them. 
The holders and kwamis can touch them as if they were real, but they phase through everything and everyone else.
I liked the idea of the holders prior to Marinette and Adrien being a pirate and a sailor who fell madly in love. They unfortunately died together and never had kids so when they came back as “mentors” for two lovesick teens they adopt them so quickly.
Adrien gets Captain Noir, the most ferocious and seductive pirate of the seven seas! And she absolutely adores Adrien and quickly assumes a motherly role in his life. The captain doesn’t like that he is alone in the mansion and gives every second of her attention to him. She calls him her "big kitten" and tries to ruin Gabriel's day every second she can. She also despises Nathalie but tolerates Gorilla.
Marinette gets Commander Bug, a stoic and ever so suave solider of his majesty's Royal Navy. He is very chill and helps Marinette to calm down when she starts acting up. Since he is a high ranking soldier, he often assists Marinette in creating strategies to defeat villains in both her hero and civilian life. Tbh he is a very reliable guy and very sweet. 
Honestly the two of them basically become parents to the two lovesick teens... and I imagine the story would literally be them ready to throw hands with Gabriel and Lila. Commander bug though ever so serious, meets Lila and immediately takes on the Captain Noir’s more... vulgar traits. 
Commander Bug: Hey Marinette *nudges her* Dead men tell no tales. 😎 *makes obscene gesture towards Lila*
Marinette: FOR THE LAST TIME IM NOT MURDERING LILA
Tikki: no wait maybe he has a point
Captain Noir: Ye really need to scupper that deadbeat father of yours off the side of this building. Hey Plagg, do ye think I can take custody of Adrien??
Adrien: I’m not throwing my father off the building!! He can be nice!!
Captain Noir: Oh no ye have Stockholm syndrome... maybe I can cure it with some rum?? That always helped the new sailors who were home sick! 😱
Adrien: oh my god I’m only fourteen 😦
Plagg: *laughing hysterically* at least you can drink your woes away!!! 😂🤣
And yes they both like the Couffaines mainly because they live on a boat. 
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The Mythical Miraculous AU:
I wrote and planned this one before it was revealed there are multiple miraculous boxes. So in this universe let’s just say that the events of feast never happened. Prior to the “episode” Fu relinquishes guardianship and loses his memories. Let’s say there is no sentimonster that caused the downfall of the monks but rather Fu causing the temple to burn down another way. How? Maybe he left a torch unsupervised and burned the place down. Why? Idk that’s just how it’s happening now.
Anyway this AU stemmed from doing so many OC drawing requests in January. And I created seven miraculous OC's whose kwamis/concept are based on the seven virtues. They are also all based on mythical creatures.
In the story I imagined that Marinette is 17 and was giving guardianship over the miracle box some time ago. One day while messing around with it, she discovers that underneath the ying and yang centre piece there was cyclinder compartment that contained a parchment. Unrolling it had printed on it six locations along with the name of the miraculous associated.
Tikki informs her of the seven miraculous that were created as backups if the the miracle box or miraculous’ were ever stolen, lost, destroyed etc. Basically the last resort. Thus they needed to be kept out of the miracle box and in the world and always ready to defend. Hence they were given to families across Europe/Asia who promised their loyalties to the miraculous cause. 
Marinette decides since it’s summer break and she isn’t busy, to find each of them and get them to help in the fight against Hawkmoth. Tikki just rolls with it.
In no particular order these are the mythical miraculous and their holders:
London, UK ~ The Unicorn and Pegasus Miraculous of Kindness and Humility: They are currently owned by 12 year old British Twins, Iris and Ivy. They come from a rich family and only recently acquired the miraculous from their father and uncle. Ivy is all about sports and is extremely athletic, Iris prefers to read and paint. Apollo is Ivy’s kwami and he is a white unicorn, and Artemis is Iris’ kwami and is a black pegasus. The miraculous are anklets. 
Sovana - Tuscany, Italy ~ The Ogre Miraculous of Charity: Currently owned by Raphael, a 21 year old Italian guy studying Archaeology. He lives out in the Italian countryside with his parents and many siblings, he has a big family who owns a huge block of farmland. He is super kind and very charitable and received his miraculous from his Nonna. Orc is Raphael’s kwami and he is a selfish little bastard but he is huggable. The miraculous is a belt buckle.
Nice, Paris ~ The Pooka Miraculous of Diligence: Currently owned by Colette, a 25 year old French girl who is busy teaching six year olds, she doesn’t have any family as she was orphaned as an infant. She has always had her miraculous as she was left at the orphanage with it. She was unfortunately never adopted out, but she is extremely motivated individual with big dreams. Cinna is Colette’s kwami, she is quite lazy and often called Cinna-bun. The miraculous is a hair clip.
Kazan, Russia ~ The Phoenix Miraculous of Chastity/Abstinence: Currently owned by Orion, a flamboyant and arrogant 30 year old. He is extremely beautiful and a very proud man, and most would think he is a bit of a f*ckboi but nope. He is just saving himself for the right person. His father gifted him the miraculous when he was 15. Newborn is Orion’s kwami, and she is little b*tch and very stuck up. The miraculous is an armband.
Nazareth, Israel ~ The Griffin Miraculous of Patience: Currently owned by Nevaeh, a 16 year old revolutionist and active feminist. She has big ideas and big dreams that she hopes with enough dedication and patience she can achieve. Unlike the others, she received the miraculous from her dying neighbour, who was an old man in his nineties who had no children. Nevaeh may not be an intended holder but she is a brilliant one! Constance is Navaeh’s kwami, she is extremely wise and a soft speaker. The miraculous is a thumb ring. 
Seoul, Korea ~ The Sea Serpent Miraculous of Temperance: Currently owned by 19 year old aspiring pop singer Levi. Levi is extremely shy and laid back, he tends to be soft-spoken and polite.Often he dreams of being an Idol but his shy personality isn’t doing him any favours. His older brother was originally the miraculous holder but instead of accepting any potential responsibility he dumped it onto him. It was originally gifted to his brother by their mother. Sai is Levi’s kwami, he is extremely skittish and is just riddled with anxiety over the belief of the world ending. He is a bit of a conspiracy theorist. The miraculous is a fin pendant necklace.
Of course Marinette in three months convinces them all to go to Paris and stay there until the defeat of Hawkmoth. 
During her travels and time with them, she unravels the mysterious of these seven miraculous and their history. What are their abilities? Why do they specifically correlate with the seven virtues? How powerful are they? 
Ivy and Iris stemming from a rich family, rent out a lovely penthouse for the seven of them in Paris. Colette decides to be the legal guardian of the minors since she actually is French. Orion decides he is gonna be a dick. The rest are there for a good time and to kick a buterrfly's butt. And thus ensue chaos, pranks, romance and a whole lotta arguing. 
I can only imagine all the kwami’s and Marinette sitting, drinking green tea while watching these seven holders become absolute hooligans.
I already drew up concept art of them but they are not good sketches so yeah maybe I will show you guys another time.
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Idk why I think this but I just figured everyone would hate AUs like this so I don’t bother posting these ideas especially if they are not fleshed out. I have so many but these are my most promising ones. 
The previous holder AU is one of my favourites because I had Captain Noir and Commander Bug’s story in my head forever. I love me some pirates. I know their whole miraculous story, like how they fell in love and why she became a pirate etc. The part where they become ghost mentors is a fairly new addition, been rolling it around for a month now and it is 100% caused by the shitty parenting via la agreste.  
The mythical miraculous one is extremely fun for me, but it was one of those AUs were I believed no one would like it so....yeah enjoy it?
If you wanna know more about each one send me an ask or send names suggestions!!
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famous-aces · 5 years
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Morrissey
Who: Steven Patrick Morrissey
What: Musician
Where: English (Active, internationally)
When: May 22, 1959 - Present
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(Image Description: a black and white photo of Morrissey from 1992.  He is a young white man in his early thirties with dark hair and eyes. His hair is short and messy.  He has thick eyebrows and a strong jawline. He is smiling very slightly. He is wearing a pale knit sweater. End ID)
Morrisey is one of those world-famous single named singers: Cher, Sting, Prince, Madonna, Morrissey. Perhaps a little Bono as, while he is more ironic and droll than the U2 frontman, he also has a reputation for douche-baggery.  Morrissey is famous for his music's bleak drama blended with bleak humor, sexually ambiguousness, themes of the past and self-reflection, and being an all around "anti-pop idol".
Morrissey made a name for himself as the frontman for The Smiths in the 1980s (1982-87), but has a successful solo career since 1988 with only a brief hiatus from '98-'03.  His most beloved albums include The Queen is Dead (1986), Strangeways, Here We Come (1987), Viva Hate (1988), Your Arsenal (1992), Vauxhall and I (1994), You are the Quarry (2004), Years of Refusal (2009). His most recey album (California Son) came out in February of this year (2019).
He is outspoken politically on, for example, vegetarianism and animal rights and against the monarchy and Americanization. In 2006 a BBC poll voted him the second greatest living British cultural icon.
I admit that while I like the Smiths well enough I had never liked them enough to really follow Morrissey's career, which is odd as I do like the whole punk/new wave/post punk scene very much. But I started listening to him a bit for this and a bit depressing but quite good.
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(Image description: a photo of the Smiths backstage in 1984 by Tom Sheehan.  From left to right Andy Rourke [a white man with brown hair and a leather jacket. Below that he has on a shirt with what I think is a crow on it. He has his bass slung around his neck and his hands behind his back. He has his head slightly cocked], Morrissey [wearing a striped shirt with a low neck, long necklaces, and square glasses. He has his arms crossed], Mike Joyce [pale with black hair spiked up and his bangs falling into his face. He has on a Smiths t-shirt and is mostly hidden behind the others], and Johnny Marr [pale with a black mop top with long bangs, he is thin with an angular face, he is wearing a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He has his guitar slung around his neck and fingers on the frets.] End ID)
Orientation: Humasexual (A word of Morrissey's own creation meaning "attracted to humans" but I will go into why, in Morrissey's case, it seems to fit under the asexual umbrella.)
I'm breaking my own rule here. Morrissey does not call himself "asexual," but uses his own term: humasexual. But as he defines the term and the nature of his sexual/romantic orientation it fits under the aspec umbrella. At one point Morrissey identifed as a bisexual who "hates sex" and later a "non-practicing bisexual," but be later abandoned that terminology. By the 2010s he was very open on the exact nature of his orientation.
While I would not go up to him and demand he identify as aspec the experience he describes does fit in fairly neatly into our letter of the Alphabet Soup. Again, I would not demand anything of him. He is a human person. Sexual orientation is, in the end, highly personal and individual. Do not be The Guy/Gal/Person. In the end everyone is entitled to name and define their own experience.
It may seem odd that a man who writes a lot about sex/sexual desire in his music could be asexual, but I don't think writing is necessarily indicative of the writer's true feelings.  Morrissey agrees, saying time and time again from his earliest fame that he is writing a general story, not a biography. He says of his lyrics that "It was very important for me to try and write for everybody...nothing is ever open and shut.". Remember, while the artist always leaves a trace of themself in their art it is not always in the most obvious way.
I believe his humasexual might be closer to demi (or perhaps gray) than it is to utterly asexual. Aspec, but not at the zero/zero point, when we get to the quotes section I will explain further.  Morrissey is definitely not aromantic. But he was intentionally celibate until his mid-thirties. It was then he had his first serious relationship, all by his own admission, not being interested in sex much before that.  He still seems to have stints of celibacy. Sex as a "maybe" or a shrug rather than a necessity. And again it took a deep personal connection to his partner for him to even feel the urge to have sex. Indeed, he claimed to "hate" sex before that.
I hope to clear things up in the quotes section when I let Morrissey speak for himself, which he has done, extensively. I included quotes from his most recent public discussion on the matter from 2013.
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(Image Description: a more recent photo of Morrissey performing on stage this one in color. He has graying hair now and is slightly larger than he was as a younger man, though he is not overweight. He is just less trim. He is wearing a dark suit. His face is wracked with emotion, eyes closed, mouth open. He has one hand in front of him, open palmed. The other holds the mic to his mouth.  End ID)
“Unfortunately, I am not homosexual. In technical fact, I am humasexual. I am attracted to humans.  But, of course . . . not many.”
-Morrissey in a statement from October 2013 (quoted by Time Magazine. Emphasis in original as it is the same in multiple sources) (I think this should be obvious. Again, labels are entirely up to the person using them and thus I am not applying one to Morrissey, but clearly he could stand under the ace umbrella mspec romantically and aspec sexually)
"[F]or the first time in my life the eternal ‘I’ becomes ‘we’, as, finally, I can get on with someone, Jake [Owen Walters] and I neither sought not needed company other than our own for the whirlwind stretch to come.”  
-Morrissey in his 2013 memoir Autobiography.  (Walters was his first serious relationship.  The relationship began in 1994 and ended in 1996. It describes sentiment echoed by many demisexuals "'I' becomes 'we'" and "finally I can get on with someone". Also the idea of solitude may reflect an aspec relationship.)
"Girls remained mysteriously attracted to me, and I had no idea why, since although each fumbling foray hit the target, nothing electrifying took place, and I turned a thousand corners without caring … Far more exciting were the array of stylish racing bikes that my father would bring home.”
-Morrissey on being a teenager in that same memoir
"I don't recognise such terms as heterosexuality, homosexuality, bisexuality, and I think it's important that there's someone in pop music who's like that. These words do great damage, they confuse people and they make people feel unhappy so I want to do away with them."
-Morrissey in a 1985 interview. (I don't agree with him in the least, my label makes me very happy and I know it makes many other people happy [although I did feel like this before I had my asexual label.] I think he might have been projecting. I think his not quite fitting into anything made him uncomfortable and it shows why he might not be inclined to stick to a traditional label and instead invent his own.)
[Nick] Kent: …[Y]out write a lot about homosexual longing.
Morrissey: I've always said that I leave things very open and that I sing about people. Without limitation. And I don't think that automatically makes me homosexual.
Kent: What about...sexual relationships?
Morrissey: I don't have relationships at all. It's out of the question.
Kent: Why?
Morrissey: Partly because I have always been attracted to men or women who were never attracted to me. And I was never attracted to men or women who were attracted to me. So that's the problem. I've never met the right person.
-A 1985 interview with Nick Kent, quoted by David Brent in Morrissey: Scandal and Passion (2004) (not finding "the right person" seems quite demi to me. He also says that is "part" of the reason. So there is probably a more complicated reason too. Also of note, Morrissey doesn't like Kent [or at least didn't at the time] so odds are he was disinclined to further articulate his most personal life to him. But that is purely speculation and it is dicey waters even speculating that much.)
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(Image Description: the album cover of You are the Quarry. It shows Morrissey on a red background holding an old fashioned Tommy gun and wearing an old fashioned pin stripe suit. He takes up most of the left side of the image. Beside him on the right it says "Morrissey, You are the Quarry." End ID)
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