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#and you’re dying to go back to school and learning and interacting and doing! things!
multifariousqueer · 9 months
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Okay..hear me out
Both of the miles dating a villain hcs? Kinda like Spiderman and black cat type of relationship?
Bet let’s do it.
Miles’ x Villian!reader
Warnings: angst, some fluff, mentions of death and cuts, maybe some toxicity idk, lmk if I missed one
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Miles 1610:
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At first, you would sneak around with it and make sure he didn’t know.
Miles never questioned how you got fancy stuff, he just thought you had money saved up and we’re working
I headcannon that y’all would have secret identities at the same time, like y’all would be hiding your identities from eachother.
Y’all both sneak in the same dorm out of breath from fighting each other
“Hey babes” “hey what’s up? Why are you so sweaty” “why are you sweaty?”
It turns into you both going back and forth before you make up a lie
“I was… working out!” “You never work out” “are you tryna say something, Miles?” “No! No I’m just saying I’ve never seen you work out before, that’s all” “okay.”
You both get away from each other and sigh a breath of relief
Miles is lowkey afraid he’s catching feelings for the villian(you) but he tries to suppress it
You’re catching feelings for Spider-Man but trying not to say anything
I think he reveals his identity first.
You’re in shock but he doesn’t know that you’re the villain and he thinks you’re just shocked about Spider-Man
“So… what do you think, Mami?” “Wow. I mean wow. I’m proud of you but that’s a lot of information”
He is scared you’re gonna break up with him when in reality, you’re scared he’s gonna turn you into the cops
You still love him and this doesn’t change anything, it’s just you have more information on Spider-Man’s whereabouts 
He finds out you’re the villain during a fight in which you get hurt really bad and Spider-Man(miles) saves you from dying but reveals your identity in the process
“Y/n?…” “yeah?”
You cry because he steps back and covers his mouth with his hand
This man is so shocked and hurt oml
“So I’ve been fighting you this whole time?” “Yep. I’m sorry Miles I hope this doesn’t change anything”
It changes
He’s more protective of you and watches you 24/7 to make sure you aren’t partaking in any of your heists or crimes anymore
Y’all team up against a really bad guy(like the spot) and you learn to use your powers for good not evil
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Miles 42:
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Like our Miles, he keeps his identity a secret and you don’t realize it because you’re so caught up in your own crimes
He watches you from afar but doesn’t do anything, he just studies you and makes mental notes on your fighting skills
If y’all interact, you’d be very flirty and he would be very cold bc he has a girlfriend(you)
“Sooo the prowler huh?” “Yeah? You gotta problem with that?” “Nope, just wondering”
Is pissed that you’re hitting all of his spots and targets before he can
If you kill a guy Miles was supposed to kill, he wouldn’t be too happy
“That cabròn thinks he can take my money? He has another thing coming that’s for sure”
You sit terrified bc Miles looks genuinely angry since that’s how he got all his money that he used to spoil his princesa
Realizes something is up with you quickly tho
“What’s wrong, Ma? Where’d you get that cut on your face?” “Oh this? It’s nothing, really” “do I have to beat someone’s ass, mi amor?” “No miles it’s okay”
Watches you after school and watches you for the next week or so to make sure no one is bothering you but instead, he finds out your secret identity
He is shocked but doesn’t show it. He keeps it to himself tho
When you realize he’s the prowler, he brings up you being a villain
“So you’ve been the Prowler this whole time??? How could you keep something like this from me?” “It’s pretty simple when your girlfriend is also a villain. No te hagas el inocente, mi vida you’re just as wrong as me”
He is indeed right about that
You help him with some of his missions and he helps with some of yours
Together, y’all terrorize the night(mostly stealing from the rich and helping the poor)
Strengthens your relationship tbh
If something happened to you however, he would never forgive himself though, even if it was your fault
Y’all are Bonnie and Clyde fr 🫶🏽🫶🏽
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leweebdepoche · 2 years
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When death makes you realise how precious life is (u‿ฺu✿ฺ)
I WANT TO EAT YOUR PANCREAS (Drama/Slice of Life) 2018 - Film
Shin'Ichiro Ushijima/Keiji Mita
Rating: 9/10
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Can we live happily even when we know we will die soon? Do we lose our humanity when we struggle with illness on a daily basis? How can we live with someone whose days are numbered? These are probably questions that many of you have already asked yourselves, and which I Want to Eat Your Pancreas answers. When the death knell hangs over the life of a loved one, our whole life is turned upside down and the smallest detail has its importance, and its consequences. And yet, I Want to Eat Your Pancreas shows us how the imminence of death is not synonymous with the end of life, quite the contrary. It can be a new beginning for some, a renewal that transforms and makes life worth living. This is what Haruki will experience with Sakura, who has a fatal disease that is gradually destroying her pancreas.
The introverted young boy, naturally distrustful of others, meets his classmate by chance at the hospital. He discovers her terrible secret and learns that she has less than a year to live. Following his reserved and distant nature, he tries to scare her away by behaving coldly, but the lively and good-humoured girl refuses to give up. After all, Haruki is now the only one, apart from his family, who knows her secret! From there, they develop a beautiful friendship as they go on many excursions to help Sakura achieve the things she wants to do in life before she dies. Haruki finds himself drawn in by the dynamism of the young girl who doesn't let him rest for a moment and forces him to enjoy life as much as possible.
A joy of living that deeply touches the boy who is always aware of his friend's state of health, but whose delicacy allows him not to burden his friend with the fatality of his fate. Discovering each other with gentle affection, the two friends form a very strong friendship whose limits they will constantly question without ever running away from the subject. In this situation that threatens to collapse at any moment, they quickly realize how much they bring to each other, and will evolve, one to blossom and learn happiness alongside others, the other to fight against the disease until the last moment while remaining herself, a young girl full of life and who loves spending time with her friends.
A beautiful story of youth and friendship, I Want to Eat Your Pancreas is actually more about life than about death. Discovering the joy of life and learning to live it to the fullest, tasting the pleasures it offers, and learning to overcome the death of a loved one while keeping only the positive, is the real message of this anime. A very touching story of a dying woman who teaches a lonely high school student to live, despite the pain and the illness, to keep only the good side of things while constantly experimenting with new ones, which will do you a world of good! Sometimes the beauty of life can only be discovered when we cross the most difficult paths it imposes on us.
Don't let the subject of the anime hold you back, because its beauty will move you. If the question of mourning is obviously addressed, at no time is the message carried by this anime heavy or burdensome, and it is with a light heart that you will leave after having watched this superb anime!
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“Living...... Means having bonds with others. Paying attention to someone. Loving someone. Hating someone. Having fun being with someone. Taking someone’s hand. That’s what it means to live. If you’re all alone, you can’t tell that you exist. Your relationship with others, is what defines being alive. I know my mind exists, since I can interact with others. I know my body exists, because others touch me. That’s where the purpose of being alive comes from. Just like we’ve been chosen to live out this moment here and now.” - Sakura Yamauchi
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dollycas · 5 months
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Special Guest - Victoria Hamilton- Author of Sieve and Let Die: A Vintage Kitchen Mystery #Interview / #Giveaway - Great Escapes Book Tour @MysteryVictoria
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Sieve and Let Die: A Vintage Kitchen Mystery by Victoria Hamilton
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It is my pleasure to welcome Victoria Hamilton to Escape With Dollycas today!
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Hi Victoria,  Please tell us a little bit about yourself. I’m a writer of mysteries. That’s probably the main way I would describe myself. But of course there is more. I love reading, naturally, mysteries, of course. But also memoirs, history non—fiction, true crime. I like tea and wine and brownies. I love autumn. I love cats, especially my own two, Poodle and Jimmy. What are three things most people don’t know about you? Well, I’m not sure, so this is just a guess. 1 – I’m Canadian, born and raised, and live in southwestern Ontario. 2 – I’ve never had children, so my characters (as far as I can say now) never will give birth to children either. I don’t think I could do the experience justice. BTW, I think parenthood is the most difficult job in the world. 3 – I took most of a university degree in English (never did finish it!) by correspondence BEFORE there was an ‘online’! I thought it would be the best way to learn the discipline writing for a living would require. I think I was right and it has done me well throughout my career. Now, if I could just get those last five credits. What books/authors have most inspired you? I am a dyed-in-the-wool Sue Grafton fan. Her approach to mystery writing – not too hard, not too soft, never gruesome, with real insight into the characters – inspired me in so very many ways. But I think my early love for Jane Austen (I mean, P&P and Persuasion? Come on! Best character interaction ever.) gave me a grounding in how to write about people of any time or place. What kind of research do you do, and how long do you spend researching before beginning a book?
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It varies depending on whether I am writing a historical or contemporary, and whether there is any specific field of knowledge required of a character. For Sieve and Let Die I had to do research on what it takes to get a pharmacy degree, and some random information about zoning laws in Michigan, as well as how construction companies can cheat. But that was all easily accomplished as I wrote.
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For my next historical, Lady Anne and the Haunted Schoolgirl, I have researched the lives of real historical figures, authors/playwrights sisters Sophia and Harriet Lee, who ran a girl’s school in Bath England from 1781 on. I started that research a year ago, but only started writing this summer. I love research! The trick is, to know when to stop.  Do you ever suffer from Writer’s Block? It’s hard to suffer from something you don’t believe in. What people think of as ‘writer’s block’ is one of several things: a) a problem in the plot that you can’t move forward from b) you’re writing the wrong book or c) real-life problems are getting in the way and you perhaps need a break. What advice do you have for someone who would like to become a published writer? Find a genre or style you’re passionate about, and pour yourself into it. Be honest with yourself about the writing. Recognize your limitations and get help when you need it. When you are not writing what do you like to do? I love to read, so that, and TV (I have a guilty secret; I love so-called reality TV!). I have always done crafts – cross stitch, crochet, etc -  but I’m finding more and more in the last few years that writing takes a lot out of me. At the end of the day, a book or TV accompanied by a cup of tea and a cookie is more relaxing. But fall is more my time for crafts anyway, so maybe I’ll get back into crafting! If you could travel anywhere in the world where would you go and why? It’s more anywhere and anywhen! I have been so fascinated by Bath, England in 1786, I wish I could see it from then! What is next on the horizon for you? As always, I have plans! I am writing three books right now, but focusing mainly on Lady Anne and the Haunted Schoolgirl, which is proving to be great fun! Lady Anne Addison is preparing for her wedding in Bath, England, to the man she loves (and lusts!) the delicious Marquess of Darkefell. Needing a distraction, she answers a friend’s plea to help Miss Sophia Lee, playwright, author and school owner, to help one of their students with her frightening experience of seeing a ghost. The girl almost died as she followed its commands and climbed out onto the roof. When the poor young lady is murdered, Anne goes all in to find out who did it, while also navigating the treacherous waters of her estranged parents and her developmentally challenged brother all coming together in Bath for the wedding. Thank you, Victoria for visiting today! Please keep reading for information about Victoria's latest release. 
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realcube · 3 years
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OVERHEARING SOMEONE TALK ABOUT THEIR S/O
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characters ♡ baji, mikey & mitsuya
tw ♡ insults (in reference to the reader), violence & robbery 
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KEISUKE BAJI 
♡ baji never mentioned that he was dating you to anyone in toman
♡ in fact, he hoped that none of them even knew about your existence, because that would only lead to trouble; and he was correct
♡ he was simply taking a puff on his stationary motorcycle, when members of the division started to filter into the parking lot that he was currently trying to relax in
♡ usually he’d try to ward off strangers so he could enjoy his time alone but he knew these guys from toman, so he allowed them to stay as long as they’d keep their voices down and not bother him
♡ most of his attention was on his own thoughts, but it was immediately redirected when he heard your name brought up in their conversation
♡ only your last name, so he wasn’t even certain whether they were talking about you, but still his interest was piqued 
♡ “they are on shift friday night, the only one left at eleven,” one of the guys explained, gesturing to his bat with a wicked smirk, “we’ll break in then. i’ll drive getaway.”
♡ “what if they call someone? shouldn’t we wait until they’ve left?” another suggested but was quickly corrected.
♡ “once they lock up the security system activates and it’ll be impossible to get in without alerting the cops. so we may as well bust in, handle them, and then steal the bikes.” 
♡ baji cringed, since he was certain that they were talking about you —since you happen to work at a motorcycle shop on friday nights — he hated to think about what they meant by ‘handle’.
♡ “now stop askin’ stupid questions.” the same guy scoffed, twirling around his bat, “i used to work there, idiot, obviously i know what i’m doing.”
♡ the group of six all laughed at the one poor guy who asked the question, and baji did too
♡ he laughed at the irony behind how they were calling each other idiots, when they were all the ones talking about auto theft in broad daylight, and discussing doing unspeakable things to a person, when their boyfriend was standing in ear-shot with a bat and a motorcycle ready 
♡ he did give them the benefit of the doubt in the latter aspect though; how were they supposed to know that y’all were dating when you are never seen spending time with each other?
♡ baji suddenly felt bad; it dawned on him that perhaps he had been neglecting your relationship as of recently. of course, it wasn’t with poor intention, in fact he thought he was taking the moral course of action by avoiding a situation where you are harmed because of his ties with toman
♡ however, being in a gang was no excuse to be a bad boyfriend, he figured 
♡ for now, the least he could do was take care of these guys to save you the trouble 
♡ but perhaps that wasn’t his brightest idea, he realised as he stood amongst the dejected bodies scattered across the ground, “i know you are all alive, so consider this a warning.” baji chuckled at the grunt one produced as he kicked him aside to head back over to his motorcycle
♡ before he left the area, obviously he stole all the cash he could from those guys, which gave him enough to buy the thing he had been eyeing for you
♡ though it took him a while to get his hands on it, it left him with the perfect opportunity to give it to you 
♡ “oi, open up!” baji hollered as he pounded on your door; if baji wasn’t such a bruiser, you would’ve thought he was dying 
♡ “what!?” you hissed, throwing the door open to reveal your frantic state.
♡ you were half angry at how loud he was being, and the other half at how he has been ignoring you for the past two weeks and finally decides to show up just as you were about to leave for work, in fact, you were running late for your night shift
♡ “no need to rush.” baji said, an odd sense of sincerity in his voice as he motioned for you to stop putting your shoes on, “you’re not going to work today.”
♡ you simply laughed, ignoring him and gathering your stuff to leave, “and why is that?”
♡ “well,” baji started, rubbing his chin for effect, “these guys from toman plan on robbing the place tonight. i did give them a warning, but they might still do it. and you know i just want you to be safe.” he said with a mischievous grin, as you both knew there was no way your shop was getting robbed tonight, unless the dudes wanted to try it with both arms broken 
♡ “so did you just come here to tell me that, or is there something else?” although you tried to hide it, baji could tell by your subtle flustered expression that you were thankful
♡ “i found this.” he lied, cupping your hand to lift it and drop in a gold bracelet, “one of the guys had it on him.”
♡ you gasped, taking the bracelet to examine the fine details, and noticed how it had a small crystal heart attached, “yeah, i’m sure a member of toman just so happened to be wearing a charm bracelet.”
♡ “i never said he was wearing it!” baji spat, swiftly snatching it from your hand and holding it above his head, “i can pawn it if you don’t want it.” 
♡ “i like it, though!” you said, reaching up for it, only for him to grab your wrist and put it on you 
♡ “then forgive me for not hanging with you.” he muttered, angrily clipping the bracelet through furrowed brows, while you leaned in to plant a kiss on his forehead 
♡ “it’s fine. i forgive you.” you couldn’t help but snicker at his word choice of ‘hanging out’, which resulted in you getting a swift flick to the forehead
♡ but before you could whine, he quickly followed it up with a kiss <33
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MIKEY 
♡ one day he was visiting mizo to find takemichi and he happened to walk passed a group of guys talking about how one of them planned on asking out a person from a different school 
♡ at first he didn’t pay much attention since it was none of his business after all, until he heard that the person’s name and description just so happened to match yours 
♡ so like any good boyfriend would, he halted and told draken to grab takemichi while he listened in 
♡ as he gained more insight into the situation, he learned that the person happened to go to the same academy as you and had the same bus schedule too 
♡ it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the person they were talking about was you 
♡ as it turns out, the guy who planned on asking you out had your bus times memorised so if he was able to run fast enough, he would be able to reach your stop before you got on the bus, which is when he will ask you out
♡ or at least, that is what he hoped would happen if everything went smoothly and there was no unexpected interference from a group of delinquents
♡ mikey had many options on how to deal with this situation
♡ he could ask you to take a different bus, he could do nothing (because he trusted that you’d reject the guy either way) or he could beat them up right now to save himself the hassle later
♡ however, he decided to go with a more peaceful approach 
♡ he continued eaves-dropping until everyone besides the lover boy had left, so he could have an amicable one-on-one conversation with him — definitely no threats involved — and advise the guy to stay in his fucking lane and never go near you ever again, kindly. 
♡ when the day of the proposal arrived, mikey paid you a surprise visit after school and offered to walk you to the bus-stop; not because he was afraid that the dude might confess, but rather since he had booked you both tickets to the movies!
♡ but once you both arrive at the stop, you were greeted by the guy standing there holding a measly bouquet of flowers, looking quite taken back by the fact you were with someone else; even though mikey had done him the courtesy of explicitly telling him to back off 
♡ though he must’ve not got message despite the hand-holding, and he obviously didn’t recognise mikey, otherwise he probably wouldn’t have continued to confess, albeit with quivering limbs and a black eye
♡ but before he could even stutter out a greeting, mikey hissed at him, “what the are you doing?” yet the guy only replied with a shrug
♡ upon observing the interaction, your eyes widen as you turned to look at mikey, “do you know him?”
♡ “never seen him before in my life, dear.” he smiled sweetly, but it was ineffective; you already knew he was lying as soon as he called you ‘dear’. 
♡ “(y/n)!” the guy yelled, trying to catch your attention, but only shaking even more as your gaze fell on him, “i was going to ask you, if—”
♡ mikey let out an exaggerated yawn, widely outstretching his arms to distract both of you, “this has been fun, but we’re running late for the movie.” 
♡ “but i’m not fin—” the poor boy was once again interrupted by mikey waving him goodbye, grabbing your hand and swiftly guiding you around him, back on the route to the cinema
♡ before he even got the chance to cry another plea, you had both already disappeared around the corner 
♡ once mikey had dragged you both far enough away from the bus-stop, you began your interrogation, “seriously, who was that? and what was he trying to say? did you give him the black eye?” you had to stop to take a deep breath, “also, you said the movie would start in the evening!”
♡ mikey brought your hand up —which he had a tight grip on — and kissed the back of it gently, “my bad,” he chuckled slightly, a mischievous grin playing on his lips, “i forgot to mention him. i met him a few days ago and he was planning to ask you out so i politely informed him that you were taken.”
♡ “for some reason, i don’t believe that last part.”
♡ he snickered, “and yeah, the movie starts in the evening so we’re not running late. but he wasn’t taking the hint!” he whined while clinging to your arm, as if you were going to run away from him at any second, “forgive me?”
♡ “sure, whatever.” you sighed, rolling your eyes as you watched his expression light up, “but next time, mind your own business! i could’ve just said no, instead of you beating him up, or whatever you did.”
♡ “noted.”
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MITSUYA TAKASHI
♡ during his time as the second division leader of toman, he’s overheard all kinds of stuff that he probably wasn’t supposed to; awkward small talk, plans to commit felonies, deep conversations, weed brownie recipes, discussions about health issues — the list goes on forever!
 ♡ however, one topic he has never heard any one ever have the audacity to speak about (within a ten mile radius of him), is you. even though, your relationship was public to toman. 
♡ your name was often kept out of people’s mouth since you rarely interacted with any of the gang members when you visited, hence they didn’t really have anything bad (or good) to say about you. none of them knew you besides the title ‘boss’ partner’. 
♡ so, that’s why mitsuya had to do a double take when he heard someone in his division mutter to the guy beside him, “why does his friend keep visitin’? it’s annoying. plus, they just sit and don’t talk to anyone besides ‘im. they must think they’re better than us or something.” right after mitsuya mentioned that you were visiting toman.
♡ he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow; did that guy really think that he was being sly and quiet? by the look on his face, he seemed pretty self-assured. 
♡ “um, i heard you, idiot.” he hissed, pinching his nose and shaking his head as he watched the knucklehead stare at him dumbfounded, as if the whole room hadn’t heard him too.
♡ “don’t say shit like that. they don’t think they’re better than anyone.” he scorned, balling his fist and almost twitching with anger, fighting the urge to pummel that guy for the sake of his own reputation in toman
♡ and that impulse almost immediately dissipated as soon as you entered the room; his hand loosened and opened to cup your cheek
♡ he was as sweet as can be for the rest of the night, of course, and he still managed to send that dude daggers whenever he got the chance. 
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Text
twelve hours, m | jjk | ... and now
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
summary: You have twelve hours to make Jeon Jungkook fall in love with you. He's about to get married. You're the entertainment at his bachelor party - a burlesque dancer. Long ago, he used to be the class representative and you used to be the class delinquent. Nothing has changed and, yet, everything has.
this is part ii | click here for part i | total wc: 23k
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; this story contains parental child abuse and graphic violence, including the reader becoming physically scarred and having panic attacks; rich, this bachelor party is on a fuckin' YACHT, the best man is LOADED; JK and reader interacted in high school; angst and fluff and feels; cheating; this is mostly smut XD; (in part i) high school smut + intense adult smut (fem reader, striptease, semi-public sex at school, nipple play (he's a bit obsessed with them), dry humping, m-masturbation, handjob, cumming on tits (and diamonds), cum-eating, mirror kink, spitting, tit fucking, m-receiving oral, scratching / biting / marking, penetrative sex, doggy); shifts back and forth between Jungkook’s POV and your POV
non-idol!AU; film director!Jungkook x wealthy, burlesque dancer!reader — ft best man, art trader!Kim Taehyung; dancer's bodyguard!Kim Namjoon and bodyguard!Kim Seokjin
> eyebrow pierced, tattooed, and long black-haired JK (with undercut) in a black suit because that's what we need in this life > look for TXT's 'you and me and the sky at 5:53' :)
--
time left: 06:49
No.
Don’t leave me.
It was the same then as it was now.
Jungkook reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her back to him. Her eyes widened, pivoting quickly on her toe, snapping her heel down and cutting the turn short, black skirt flaring out. The swift glimpse of her legs in the high slit, the gentle bounce of her breasts in the slinky fabric. Her manicured hair bounced, dyed blue-black and giving her skin a surreal quality.
He held on.
Please don’t disappear.
“What?”
Her brows knitted together. She didn’t pull her arm away, but she was steadfast in her posture, not letting him push her around. Not that he ever could.
“He asked me to escort you back,” Jungkook found himself saying. “If not for your sake, then for his peace of mind. I don’t want to be a liar.”
Her features softened.
His fingers around her arm, touching that soft skin once more.
I care. I care a lot.
Jungkook realized that, in a way, he had never moved past those classrooms, those touches, those kisses, those moments.
“You can let go now.”
She said it patiently. Always patient with him despite his overzealous and sometimes clumsy antics, putting up with it even when she didn’t have to. He looked into those eyes and found those walls were falling away, little by little. Winged liner, red lipstick, it didn’t matter, it was the same expression, defiant eyes and hint of a scowl on those lips. Ready to fight, but not him.
She was always a fighter and the opponent was always life itself.
“I don’t want to let go.”
He didn’t expect himself to say the truth, but he did.
She smirked, reaching up, her fingers covering his tattoos for a moment, placing them on the back of his hand. This warmth. This feeling. It was not the same as the rest, and he knew that now.
“Hm, well, you must realize this looks a bit awkward. You wouldn’t want to give anyone the wrong impression, would you?”
Wouldn't want someone to see you talking to me, right?
“You will let me escort you?” he insisted.
She pried his hand from her arm and lowered it, turning the other way.
“You are welcome to do as you like. I won’t stop you, golden boy.”
-
time left: 06:41
He followed you, surrounded by moonlight reflecting off water.
It streamed through the windows, lighting the red carpeted hall along with the dim sconces. You found yourself stepping in each lighted square, avoiding the thin dark beams of the windows, a little game for yourself, like how children avoided the cracks in the concrete sidewalks, except you were on a lavish yacht wearing Louboutins with a handsome man in step behind you.
It was quiet and yet it wasn’t. Small sounds, footsteps, distant muffles of talking through the walls, the faint sound of bass as you walked away from the party, the sound of the ocean ever present, your own breathing.
Jungkook’s breathing.
Familiar.
Once yours.
You looked to your right, to the window, seeing his reflection. His profile, hands in his pockets, tattooed arm standing out against the black background of his clothes, dressed formally but always a bit sheepish about it, as if he wasn’t sure if it looked good on him, but it always did, even the school uniform. He still had the youthfulness about him, even as a man.
Your eyes found his and he was watching your face in the glass of the window.
You stopped abruptly, pivoting on one heel to face him.
Impulse.
Your younger self would have bristled, glaring, accusing the eyes and snapping, what are you looking at?
Jungkook started, realizing you had noticed, and tripped, his black hair suddenly disturbed and tumbling over his eyes as he struggled to catch himself, hands flying out of his pockets.
You caught one, lacing your fingers with his, and gripped tightly, yanking up.
He righted himself, gasping. Looking up, bent over and long legs awkward, somewhat like a fawn trying to get on its legs for the first time. Those big brown eyes, parted pink lips. Familiar.
Your joined hands fell exactly where the window beam was, shrouded in shadow.
“Something on your mind?” you chuckled, shaking your head.
He straightened. You loosened your grip on his hand, but he held on. You frowned slightly, raising your brows.
He swallowed hard.
“Can I hold your hand? Please.”
Back then, you would hold his hand, hiding behind corners and dashing past, holding your breath, light steps, leaping from shadow to shadow, bodies close, breath mixing. Showing him all the secrets of the school that you had found while wandering, a fun little game with a reward at the end, school uniform being shed, skin to skin, his body against yours, his heartbeat in time with yours, his lips on yours.
You shrugged and turned back around, his hand tightly around yours.
-
time left: 06:35
Jungkook held her hand.
In an instant, he looked down, staring at their joined hands.
This was different.
And then he saw them.
Scars, all over the back of her hand. He could feel the scar tissue on her palms too, lines on her fingers even though she was holding him loosely. He had memorized every centimeter of her beautiful hands from back then, and these lines were not here before. These were not scars from living life. These had been cuts, healed now, unseen from far away and even up close. Perhaps they had been filled in with tattoo ink in a color to match her skin tone so they were less noticeable.
No one would know unless they were holding her hand or looking for it.
Without knowing it, Jungkook clutched her hand tighter, a sudden ache in his chest.
He had found bruises on her sometimes.
I fell down the stairs. It's nothing.
He had found welts.
Stupid fight with some dumbass.
He had found a criss-cross pattern of cuts on her leg.
I tried to jump over a fence and fucked up.
He glanced at her other hand loosely by her side. The same. He could even see her palm and there were many, many lines, all over her palm, healed cuts. Drugs? But he knew it wasn’t. Not because he had a romanticized idea of who she would be in his head, but because that was the nice answer.
That was the reasonable answer.
“Oh!”
“Excuse me, miss.”
His eyes flickered upward to see a young woman in a short midnight blue dress pausing, looking from her to him, cheeks flushed, not being subtle about it. The glittery fabric picked up the moonlight, accenting her curves and long legs. Pretty.
But not sensual.
Not immaculate.
Not teasing and sculptural.
The grip on his hand tightened so much that he inhaled sharply, fingers nearly crushed by her hold.
“Have a nice evening,” the woman in black purred, edge of ice indicating the stranger to move along, or, more accurately, fuck right off.
Jungkook knew he shouldn’t, and yet.
His heart skipped two beats as she dragged him along.
He had no problem looking away from the other woman and fixate on the back of that neatly pinned, blue-black hair, graceful shoulders, corseted waist, swaying hips.
And her hand in his, not letting go.
-
time left: 06:22
“This is it.”
You turned to see Jungkook looking around, mouth open, gawking at the entrance of the intricately carved wooden door. It was one of the grander, first-class rooms. The red doors were much farther apart and the sconces here were glided with glass-blown lampshades, casting swirls of orange across the white walls, dimmed now from the late night.
“It was nice to see you again.”
It was, even with the bitter taste in your mouth that seemed to linger.
His eyes came back to you, dark brown and clear, focused on only your face, long black strands framing his cheeks, the small mole underneath his lower lip trembling.
“I hope you have your happiness now, Jungkook.”
You did.
You felt a strange, unmovable pressure on your chest. The time wasn’t up yet. You could still try. You could keep your hold on his hand and drag him into the room and hold him close to you, skin to skin, lips on his, and show him all you’ve learned. You could. You could see it in those eyes. He would follow you now, maybe because of the alcohol, maybe for old times sake, maybe out of impulse and bad choices.
You let go.
You let go, because you didn’t want to be a bad choice.
Not to him, Jeon Jungkook.
“You were my small happiness, back then,” you said softly, feeling yourself smile.
It was better not to have regrets. At the time, even you didn’t know how important he had been. The thought of being withdrawn from that school and not being able to see him again made you fight back for once, and it ended in the very thing you didn’t want. It fucked up your hands, it fucked up your life, but somehow you found yourself here now, in expensive clothes on an expensive boat with expensive tastes, able to make a choice between selfishness or selflessness.
Maybe you hadn’t changed much after all, since you found yourself choosing the latter.
You turned away and pulled your hand out of his.
Or would have, if Jungkook hadn’t grasped your hand tighter, yanking you back and shoving you against the door of your suite. Your hand automatically raised to push him back, but he put his whole weight on your body, sandwiching you between the door and himself, making you gasp, trapped between dead timber and muscular hardness.
Now his face was in your face, breathing hard, dark brown orbs shaking and shining with wetness.
You froze, lips parting.
“You were my happiness too.”
He was panting, warm exhale on your lips.
“Not a small happiness. The happiness.”
He squeezed your hand like you were going to disappear.
“I didn’t know then, but I do now,” Jungkook shuddered, towering over you even in your heels. He stared into your eyes. “Your smile.”
You blinked slowly, confused.
“Your smile. I’ve never seen it reach your eyes.”
Heart racing, suddenly breathless.
“Except when you thought I couldn’t see, like when my back was turned or my face was turned away from you,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against yours, long black hair curtaining your faces, sending you back to the shadows. “I saw it though, in reflections. In windows. In mirrors. In those beakers in the science room.”
Was that so? Had that been you? You made it a point not to smile back then, because there had been nothing to smile about. But maybe… maybe when eyes weren’t on you, maybe when you yourself didn’t notice, but, somehow, Jungkook had noticed.
You realized that your introspection had diverted your attention from him, so you made eye contact again, airless at his closeness. Your eyes and his, lost in sweet dreams.
“I want to kiss you.”
He tilted his head and hesitated.
“I want to kiss you all the time,” he said to your lips.
His expression was clouded with shame. It was ugly. It made his handsome features ugly and you didn’t like that. You wanted to make it go away. You closed more distance, fingers pressing down on the back of his hand, your other hand raising and resting on his hip, lashes lowering.
“Then kiss me,” you said to his lips.
-
time left: 06:13
Jungkook kissed her.
From then and now, it was the same.
Euphoria.
But this time, it wasn’t clumsy with colliding teeth and too much tongue that did nothing, sloppy with no purpose. This time, his lips were soft at first and so were hers, breathing in each other’s scent. She smelled warm and musky, like blackberry and evergreens, expensive and lush, but somehow still her, still that girl from back then, comforting and intense, sometimes with the hint of metallic blood, but that never bothered him. Her hand on his hip, stroking it under the layers of fabric, making him shiver, caressing the back of his hand with her fingertips, delicate sigh in his mouth.
The faintest flicker of tongue on the edge of her upper lip, swiping down into his open mouth.
He moaned, feeling the strong wet muscle thrust into his lips, coaxing his tongue, teasing, pressing her body to his, breasts against his chest, their deep open necklines exchanging heat in the air between their skin but not quite touching, and he found himself letting go of her hand, reaching up to grab her breasts.
Her fingers closed around his wrists, forcing him to stop.
He gasped in her mouth, eyes opening.
“They’re not stress balls, Jungkook,” she snickered.
He was breathing hard, ribcage shuddering, heartbeat thundering in his ears, getting louder as he realized her red lipstick was a little messed up, feeling the stickiness on his own lips.
“You need to slow down. You can’t just grope me out in the open.”
His impatience spoke for him.
“Why not?”
His voice was low, octave deepened from lust.
Her lips curved into an amused smirk. “Oh? You have changed. You used to be so worried about someone seeing us. If anything, you should be more worried now, considering your beloved.”
“She’s not my beloved.”
She was still holding his wrists, but her head tilted, watching his eyes carefully. He sucked in a shuddering breath, feeling the guilt.
“We… we thought it would be a good idea. Because our friends told us we look nice together. It would help her career. I wouldn’t have to invest too much into it.”
He felt ashamed, but he didn’t look away because he didn’t want her to think he was lying.
“I never found a smile like yours. I accepted that I never would.”
Her eyes darkened.
“It’s dangerous, Jungkook. Ill-advised.”
He smiled and he didn’t know if it reached his eyes because his vision was blurry.
But he knew it wasn’t a lie.
“You always were. I should have chased you to the ends of the earth, even if you were only a ghost.”
He lifted his hands, hers with his, and cupped her face, running his fingertips over her cheeks, smooth and soft skin, transported back to that moment in the abandoned literature club room, her face cast in an orange glow, actually swirls from glass-blown sconces, but the past and present connected, turning it into rays from the setting sun that lit up her features, and he said what he had said then, because it was the truth.
“You’re really pretty.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“You are.”
He leaned forward and kissed the side of her lips gently.
She chuckled.
“You really are something, Jeon Jungkook.”
Her hands let go and she reached into the deep neckline of her dress, plucking something from the corset. His eyes widened as she pulled out the key card from between her breasts, smirk dancing on her lips. She winked at him.
“A lady has many hiding places.”
She flicked her wrist and inserted it into the door, unlocking it without looking.
The door opened and they stepped into her room.
-
time left: 06:02
“Hnnnnnnngh…”
“Dude can snore.”
“Help me turn him to his side. Don’t want him to vomit in his mouth and asphyxiate,” Kim Namjoon grunted, helped by Kim Seokjin, jerking Kim Taehyung’s body to the side. They backed up and Taehyung immediately flopped to his back, snoring away.
Seokjin thinned his mouth into a line. “Seriously?”
“Ah, here, let’s roll up the towels and use them to prop him up.”
“He’s not as cute as she is.”
“Well, she also doesn’t get piss drunk... ever.”
“Still a better cuddle buddy. Comes with built-in pillows.”
Namjoon blinked at Seokjin and shook his head, letting the odd comment slide. They managed to jam the bath towels next to Taehyung and force him to lay on his side, placing a pillow in his arms that he immediately hugged, squeezing it tightly. The snoring lessened as well.
“Guess we should go back,” Namjoon sighed, rubbing the back of his short hair.
Seokjin scoffed. “No, we shouldn’t. They’re probably all over each other as we speak.”
Namjoon frowned, raised an eyebrow at the other man. “Really? I don’t know. She seemed very hesitant about it. She said she didn’t love him.”
Seokjin snorted, somehow still elegant with his handsome face. “You really believe that?”
“That’s what she said.”
Seokjin rolled his eyes. “That’s what everybody says when they don’t want to admit they’re in love with someone.”
“That’s also what people say when they are, factually, not in love with someone.”
The black-haired man raised his hands and held up his index fingers, wriggling them in the air and bending them ninety-degrees, squiggling them around each other and poking the tips together repeatedly. Namjoon blinked at him.
“What are you doing?”
Seokjin rolled his eyes as if it was despairingly obvious what he was doing. “A visual representation of what they’re doing right now.”
Namjoon contorted his face in confusion, raising an eyebrow.
“… Becoming worms…?”
Seokjin groaned. “Having sex, Namjoon.”
“… How is that…?”
-
time left: 05:53
The door to his dreams unsealed and they tumbled inside.
The orange glow of the hallway lights spilled into the room, bleeding into the cool glow that came from the open windows, curtains pulled back to reveal the shimmering sea and bright moon, a contrast of artificial dusk and true nightfall. She pulled him in by his belt, hooking two fingers under the leather, step by sweeping step, grace that made him breathless, orange and silver and shadow, all mixing together, and then the door closed and then the sea and the moon replaced the sunset dreams.
It was a heavy thunk, closing with finality.
The room had many ornate mirrors in it to make the room seem bigger. The had gold vintage frames of different shapes and sizes, reflecting the contents of the room, the large bed and red silk sheets, the black leather chairs and black marble table bolted down to the floor, the matching marble vanity laid out with several black leather cosmetic bags, all zipped up neatly. The had small details on them – red zippers, silver locks, the designer logo engraved into the leather. The suitcases leaning against the wall matched the cosmetic bags, three of them, one larger than the first two.
Jungkook breathed her name, raising his hand, fingers spread.
Her fingertips touched his, halting him.
“Let me do it.”
He spied his expression in one of the mirrors.
The silver moonlight lit up his face and his eyes, reflecting the lust and trust in them.
He looked back to her and nodded.
“Okay.”
Glamour. Fantasy. Descent.
That was the only way he could describe the way she moved, glamour in the way her hand slowly retreated from his, a steady wave and sweep, clearly deliberate. Even in smeared lipstick, the small smirk was present on those lips, stepping around him with a swing of her hips and gentle clicks of her black patent leather heels, the slinky fabric flowing with her actions and also clinging to her body at the same time, using the arc of her stride to spread open the high slit. Letting him watch. He almost turned to follow but she placed a few fingers on his arm, purring softly.
“Don’t move.”
Fantasy, the way she slipped behind him like a shadow, and then Jungkook had to look up into the mirrors, catching glimpses of her behind him. There was no music, but she moved as if there was. If anything, the sound of the waves seemed to form its own music, and he was suddenly more aware of it, the splashes against the hull of the boat mixing with the bass of his heartbeat and the wispiness of her breath, stepping up behind him, body heat making him gasp, looking into a mirror to his left, a window illuminating his right, her hands slipping between the space of his ribs and upper arms, fingers spread like wings, warm exhale on his neck.
No words.
Just a simple kiss to the base of his head and her lips murmuring his name on his skin.
Descent.
One by one, teasing the buttons apart, her fingers ghosting the exposed skin, his heart racing as he watched those hands, peeling apart the button placket, unwrapping him like a decadent sweet. He watched his own expression framed by long curls of black, his teeth sinking into his lower lip, small mole below quivering, seeing more and more of his chest being exposed, somewhat self-conscious, but there was something spellbinding about only being able to see her hands and forearms, pointed black nails decorated with crystals that caught the light, undoing all the buttons until she reached his pants.
“I can–”
“Shh. Don’t let your impatience prevent you from enjoying your own striptease.”
His cheeks heated a little and he lowered his hands, breath hiking as she firmly gripped the bottom of his shirt and pulled it out. Jungkook took a step back, his back hitting her chest, and gasped again, feeling the softness, but she adjusted her position so her body wasn’t touching his anymore, chiding him playfully.
“Never had someone take off your clothes, Jungkook?” she chuckled against his neck, making his hairs stand on end.
“Ah, well…”
He watched those deft fingers undo the last two buttons. Then they spread apart his black shirt, reaching in, fingertips spreading out over his abs and pecs, tracing the contours of his muscles, switching between her nails and the pads of her fingertips, prickling and dainty. He couldn’t sure her face, but he saw his, and only now registered his own moans, so absorbed by her sensual movement and her touch that he didn’t even realize the embarrassing sounds falling from his lips.
“Not… since you…”
She snickered. “Seriously? What fool wouldn’t want to tear the clothes off this lovely body?”
He could feel and see his flush in the mirror. He looked away quickly, down to her hands exploring his body. “Well, I just… figured it’s easier if I do it. No one has ever been like you.”
“Hmm.”
His hands raised. He traced her knuckles, causing her to pause, caressing small circles on his sternum.
“You want to tear the clothes off my body?” he breathed, not daring to see his own reflection and know his reaction to whatever her answer was.
“I do.”
He placed his left hand on hers, heart beating faster and faster.
“Not tonight though.”
He pulled her palm away from his racing heart, not wanting her to know her effect on him, letting it linger beside his ribcage.
“Tonight, I will show you all I’ve learned, because I was always a better student than you, class representative.”
He found himself laughing a little, suddenly sheepish. “Yeah. Your name was always in the top five percent. I was pretty bad at school. I don’t know why everyone voted for–oooh…”
Her fingers touched his nipples, rubbing delicately, sending strange shivers all over him, shallowing his breath, making him look up and see his dark nipples being teased by expert hands. Her nails nicked them lightly and he whined in his throat, feeling them harden against her fingertips, surprised at the arousal from the simple touch, something he never paid attention to or cared about. His hair was covering part of his face.
Jungkook reached up and pushed his hair back, pressing his chest into those hands.
Saw one of her eyes behind his head, sharp and sultry with winged liner, twinkling as she watched him.
“I voted for you because I thought it would be funny since you weren’t even trying.”
He didn’t really have a response for that, too busy looking at his own face and body, shivering as she tweaked his nipples and pushed them in slow circles, his arms descending to lower the shadows, letting them suspend by his sides.
She shifted beside him and half of her lips appeared, on the toes of her heels, whispering close to his ear, seductive and dark.
“You were good-looking then, and you’re even more handsome now, Jungkook.”
The sound of the ocean, the silver moonlight shining off her blue-black hair giving her skin a surreal quality, almost doll-like, the mirror reflecting his expression, desire and anticipation.
She removed her hands and grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking it down.
He inhaled sharply and her face disappeared.
Dress shirt stripped from his body and flung away, the crisp black fabric flaring out, a shadow cast aside.
Jungkook spun around.
-
Does this man know the meaning of calm the fuck down?
You rolled your eyes inwardly as you witnessed Jungkook turn around, facing you again even though you told him not to the move. He had always been like this, overzealous, but he didn’t seem as clumsy as before, although…
He grabbed your tits.
Hah.
He blinked rapidly, surprised. “Huh?”
You shook your head and knocked his hands away, sighing. “Pasties, Jungkook. To cover my nipples.”
You reached into your dress and scooped your breasts out, trapping them between the v-neckline. His eyes bulged slightly when he saw the smooth black satin circles flush to the apex of your breasts. They fit perfectly, seamless so they were unseen even under the slinky fabric of the black gown.
“W-Whoa…”
“What? I’m a burlesque dancer. Of course, I have fancy nipple covers. This is basic wardrobe.”
He tilted his head. “I’ve never seen any like these. They look like they’re part of your body.”
You tutted. “Obviously, they aren’t. You know I have nipples.”
And you reached up and peeled them off, flinging them aside carelessly.
Jungkook gasped, staring at your nipples with wide eyes.
“Don’t act like you haven’t seen nipples,” you scowled. “You better not be a virgin with how hot you’ve become.”
His hands shot up and you grabbed his wrists again, forcing them back down.
Jungkook whined, eyes shifting back up to you, begging to touch them.
You stiffened slightly. What kind of reaction was that?
“They’re so big,” he whispered huskily, visibly shuddering, shaking with the craving to touch them. “I remember they were soft. And…” His breathing hitched, trembling in your hands. “I remember they tasted so good. Amazing. No one has ever tasted as good as you.”
His eyes flickered back down, biting his lip. He tried to break free, but you held. A single glance exchanged and you let go, realizing he was going to do something other than attack them. Instead, he collected the straps of your dress and pulled them back up, slowly, moaning as the slinky black fabric skimmed over your breasts, your prominent nipples sticking out, hardening from the light friction.
“Fuck, that’s so fucking sexy.”
Well, maybe he did have some appreciation for the visual after all.
“You see why I need the pasties.”
He pulled the straps up, whimpering as he watched your nipples strain against your dress, lifting your breasts in the confines of the fabric and lowering them, lifting, lowering, repeating the gesture.
You raised an eyebrow.
“Jungkook… are you bouncing my tits on purpose?”
His dark brown orbs darted to you. Guilty.
“Um… y-you won’t let me touch them…”
You weren’t sure whether to sigh or to laugh. You just shook your head, backing up out of his grasp. His hands were still outstretched, lips forming a small pout. You almost regretted it, but his expression quickly changed as you casually flicked down the straps, freeing your breasts again, dropping his hands and linking them together under his waist, waiting, now invested in what you had in store.
Oh.
He chewed on his lip and gave you an expectant look.
A flutter in your chest.
The side of your lips curved upward, tongue sliding out to graze the edge of your upper lip before disappearing.
You reached back, leisurely undoing the fastenings of the corset, sweeping your legs so the high slit flared apart, turning around, letting him witness the slow undress. Every action was deliberate, the wide arc of your leg moving the skirt aside to prevent you from tripping as you turned without using your hands, the wide stance of your feet to relieve pressure on your heels and to prevent the dress from sliding down too soon, and even the position of your fingers, poised so you could run a nail down your spine as two of them pinched the hook-and-eye and separated them, traveling down to the top of your ass. Every movement was thought out, details that made up the bigger picture, constructing your ultimate goal.
A sensual striptease.
You caught his reaction in a mirror to your right.
His sparkling brown eyes were wide, jaw dropped.
A lot of people had seen you take off your clothes, but no one made you feel as satisfied as Jeon Jungkook, then in his school uniform and now shirtless in his slacks, hands twisting in front of his crotch.
Then you saw your face.
You were smiling.
You really did smile when you thought he wasn’t looking.
Another glimpse at his face and you found him staring at you, silver moonlight glinting off his eyebrow piercing and flooding into his eyes, bringing out the stars within.
You released your hand and your dress tumbled to the ground.
He sucked in a shuddering breath, your name drifting from his lips.
“H… Holy shit…”
You did have an amazing waist-to-ass ratio.
Proper corset training and specific hit workouts to perfect your craft contributed. You couldn’t simply be pretty. You had to be strong and flexible to do the stunts and to walk in your red bottoms for the entire performance. Christian Louboutin didn’t make his shoes to be comfy. He made heels to make feet look enticing and sexy.
The price to pay for glamour and vanity.
It did give you some powerful calves though.
You lifted one shoe, flashing that blazingly red sole of your heel, balancing on one leg for a second.
This was to prevent you from getting tangled on your now fallen dress. You tightened your core, shifting your weight, knowing it would give Jungkook an irresistible view of your plump derriere in your high French-cut black satin panties, the particular style adding illusion to the already stark proportion.
In short, your ass looked fucking fabulous.
You stepped out of your dress, one leg, then the other, taking care not to step on it, adding a little flourish of your hands to create those body lines, ever the performer. You glanced at the mirror and was pleased to find Jungkook hadn’t moved, although his hands were now firmly open, palms down on his crotch, whimpering in his throat.
“Soon,” you promised, and you would keep it.
He nodded, swallowing hard.
You turned your fingers inward, hooking each index finger on the sides of your panties, rocking your hips slowly, lowering your lashes, following the beat of the sea, tugging down the right side a few centimeters and then the left, listening to his breathing and controlling yours. You bent over slowly at the hips, sticking your ass out, listening to his low moan as your glistening slit was revealed, sliding your undergarments down your thighs and calves, placing them carefully onto the floor.
You gradually straightened, breathing out, keeping it as one smooth motion.
You stepped out of your panties.
Now you were clad in only your black patent Louboutins and black diamond choker.
This time, you found your reflection in the mirror to delicately correct your smeared red lipstick with your fingertips. Good enough. You nodded at your reflection. The corners of your mouth curved upwards.
You turned to face him, showing Jungkook your smile.
-
This smile was real.
The smile she only showed when she was with him. He didn’t know if that was a valid thought or not, but he liked to think so. Besides, no smile meant as much as this one. That he was sure of, because he had been chasing this smile for all these years before finally accepting that he would never find another one like it. It was too precious to belong to anyone else.
His smile.
If his dick wasn’t trying to rip open his pants, Jungkook might have cried seeing it for the first time.
He couldn’t speak, too afraid he was going to lose it right then and there.
She walked towards him.
No, walk wasn’t the correct word. Strode, strut, glided, fuck, he didn’t know, she just moved as fluidly as a shadow and water combined, silver moonlight glistening off her skin and her diamonds, and he knew he would never love the mere act of walking more than when he watched her move.
She stilled.
He stopped breathing.
Her foot raised, toes tracing the inside of the heel, raising the pointed toe, balancing it on the stiletto, and she flicked it backward, causing it to tumble and somersault backward, falling to its side.
Fuck.
She thought of everything.
She balanced on tiptoe and did the same to the other shoe, discarding it with a swift tick.
He made a less-than-elegant noise of her name mixed with a needy whine.
“P… Please…”
Jungkook was quite sure he was a hair’s breath away from ripping off his pants to get some relief.
She finally made her way to stand in front of him. Smile so close now, emphasized by painted lips.
Her hands closed over his, peeling them away from his crotch, holding them loosely. She leaned forward, placing a delicate kiss on his lips. Deep, meaningful, nothing flashy. Drew back, still smiling.
This smile.
He wanted to protect it forever.
“I should have told you that I love you, but I didn’t know it then,” he whispered.
She chuckled.
“I know now.”
She was lowering herself as he spoke, tilting her head at him, inviting him to continue. Getting to her knees, positioning her feet right under her ass, neat and orderly. His hands dropped, leaving hers on his belt, undoing the buckle, her gaze still on him. Looking up at him with amusement, diamonds glittering on her throat, perky tits and nipples, thighs on display, kneeling in front of his crotch.
“I love you.”
Jungkook meant it, every syllable.
He never meant it more in her life.
“I know.”
What?
She casually undid his belt and slid the closure open, unzipping his slacks.
“Wait… what?” he sputtered, blinking rapidly.
“I know you love me,” she repeated calmly.
Jungkook had time for a single blink before his pants were yanked down to his knees. He started, almost falling over, but her hands came up behind his legs and gripped them, keeping him upright.
“Careful,” she purred, stroking the backs of his thighs.
He jerked his head down, hardly able to breathe, shock blossoming as she leaned forward, hot breath warming his black boxer briefs. Eyes on his face, pink tongue extending.
“O-Oh, fuuuck…”
She planted her tongue over his hardness and soaked it with saliva, wetting the fabric and tracing the outline, molding his underwear to his length, sending him into gasping shivers, heat from her tongue and then her lips closing, blowing a cool stream over it, hot and cold, sensation and deprivation, too much and not enough, placing kisses all over and he flinched with every one, savoring the feeling, the touch that was familiar and unfamiliar, everything he wanted.
“W-Wait… that’s dirty…”
“Not as dirty as the things I want to do to you.”
Not as dirty as the things I want to do to you.
Pants racking his torso, looking down, and it was the same but different, her lips kissing up his abs, his chest, back to his face, holding him to her, lipstick smeared and now on his skin. Open mouth to elegantly parted lips, gasping as she collected her breasts and pressed her nipples to his chest, squashing the softness to his pecs.
“Spit on my cleavage,” she breathed.
“W-What?”
She raised an eyebrow, knowing that he heard her perfectly well, squeezing her breasts together and rubbing them on his chest, sending the electric sensation of her large nipples dragging across his heartbeat, rolling her shoulders to the beat of the sea, bathed in silver moonlight.
“Spit on my tits, Jungkook.”
“I… c-couldn’t… do that to you…” he moaned, pitch hiking with pleasure.
She didn’t chide him to cover his mouth this time, instead smirking wider, licking her teeth. “Sure, you can. Do it, golden boy. Spit on me.”
She hooked a leg over his hip and grinded her crotch to his wet one, causing him to whine, knowing his cock was so close to her pussy but not yet skin to skin, the soaked fabric barrier driving him insane, his hands coming up to grip her waist and press her down on him, staring into her eyes, inhale shaky and erratic.
She smiled, teasing, sculptural, his.
“You trust me?”
Jungkook was drunk on something he didn’t understand and it was love.
“Yeah…”
He leaned forward, capturing her lips, an intense, burning kiss. She smiled into his kiss, and he knew she was aware of his nervousness, but she remained patient as she always was, pressing back daintily, taking his breath away. He broke apart, trembling.
She nodded, telling him it was okay.
He collected saliva at the tip of his tongue and looked down, spitting into her cleavage.
It shot out of his mouth, splattering over the swell of her breasts and onto his own chest. His ears burned, self-conscious at the dirty act, but she moaned deliciously, backing up, his saliva dripping down and stuck to the inside curve of her breasts. He had a moment to appreciate the image, the most beautiful woman in the world with her diamond choker and his spit on her tits glistening in the moonlight reflected by the sea.
“Wow.”
That was all he could say as the image burned into his memory.
She smirked, falling to her knees, tugging his black boxer briefs down his thighs, his stiff cock popping out, bobbing in the air at the suddenness of its release, and then trapped once more, except this time not in drenched fabric but in her soft, saliva-covered breasts – or his saliva, depending on how he thought about it – but he couldn’t think about it, abrupt pleasure shooting up his spine, throwing his head back in a moan, eyes darting everywhere, surrounded by mirrors, reflections of his face, his long black hair a wild mess, his facial features consumed by wanton lust, his throbbing cock jammed between her breasts and her body sliding up and down, her large nipples rubbing against his crotch and thighs, oh, fuck, the sensation insane, soft and rough and wet, her perfectly pinned hair leaving only the curls at the ends bouncing from her effort.
She spit down his length, adding to the lubrication and her name burst out of his mouth in an erratic groan.
“F-Fuck…!”
She pushed his cock up, almost uncomfortable, but then her mouth closed around the tip, tongue swirling, and he was lost again, ecstasy as she switched to blowing him, pressing her breasts to his thighs, smearing the saliva on them too, covering his cock in red lipstick, soaking every centimeter with saliva, running her tongue over the veins and the head, his hands clenching into fists, close, so close, and then she popped her mouth off, leaving him near tears and in whines.
“P-Please, let me cum, please…”
“I want you to cum on my necklace,” she panted, planting his cock in her cleavage again, lacing her fingers over it, pressing the head down into the slick skin, shock of her words and the escalating pleasure, his chin lowering and staring down at glittering black diamonds and the engorged tip of his length popping in and out of her breasts.
“You want me to… cum on your necklace…?” he echoed hollowly, in utter disbelief.
“Fuck yes, I do,” she grinned, tip of her tongue flickering at the edge of her lips. “Cum on my diamonds, Jungkook.”
Well, fuck.
This was the worst surreal and hottest moment of his life.
He clenched his jaw and thrust his hips into her chest, adding to the stimulation, chasing it, seeing her grin grow, devilish and devious, squeezing him tighter, faster, faster, faster, his hands and his body shaking, gripped by pleasure and her hold, panting her name over and over, his prayer, his drug, his lifeline, trying to hold out, the line inside him pulled taut, thinner and thinner, snapping.
“F-Fuck, I’m gonna cum!”
His hips jolted and he forced them upward, her head tipping back as the thick red tip popped out, twitching and splattering thick streams of white, painting the black diamonds with his white orgasm, clinging to the jewels and her collarbones, dripping down, covering her with his strong and masculine scent. She lifted her body, trapping his jolting cock in her breasts, and he moaned helplessly, rutting against her skin, sparks of pleasure shooting through his veins, uncontrollable flinching and shuddering as more dribbled out, milked out by the tightness.
“Oooooooh, f-fuck… fuck, I’m s-so sorry…” he gasped out, wincing at the mess he made.
“Ah, shut up, Jungkook.”
In awe, he watched her back up slightly, strings of his orgasm all over her breasts, chest, and diamonds.
She smiled and dipped her fingers in it, coating them with his cum and bringing them to her smeared red lips, licking them off one by one, pink tongue slipping between her elegant digits, moaning as she drank up his taste.
Eyes on his, drunk on him.
-
time left: --:--
Kim Namjoon leaned against Kim Seokjin’s shoulder, listening to the other man’s deep breathing.
They were sitting on the plush green couch in Kim Taehyung’s room.
The night was quiet, nothing but the sound of the waves coming through the open window, a light breeze as Namjoon watched the moon reflect off the ocean. Seokjin had already fallen asleep, head resting against the back of the sofa, tired from the day’s events and needing the rest. Namjoon felt the drowsiness beginning to weigh on him too, using Seokjin’s wide shoulder as his headrest. He had opened the window to prevent the room from getting too stuffy.
It would have been more comfortable to be in that giant bed with the one he was paid to protect, but he hoped she was in good hands now.
He smiled to himself, watching the silver moonlight dance off the choppy waters.
His mind went back to those moments, moments when he had to hold her shoulders and remind her of who and where she was, moments when he sat and waited as she clenched her teeth and a skilled medical tattoo artist filled in those white scars all over her hands, moments of when she finally sat him and Seokjin down and told them why she sometimes woke up at night, screaming and crying, yelling the names of past demons.
She had told them she was sorry, sorry for being weak, sorry for not taking responsibility.
Seokjin had scoffed, smacking her lightly on the head. “Are you an idiot? You have been through enough. Stop it with that nonsense. It’s part of our job, so let us do our job.”
After that, Namjoon would make it a point to check up on her at night, reaching over to soothe her brow as she slept, relaxing her face with gentle touches. He wanted to be there in case she woke up from a nightmare, and it became a habit, until Seokjin too elbowed himself in the bed, muttering that she always got the best digs anyway, so why shouldn’t he? He was handsome enough, after all.
They only accompanied her to events or appearances.
It bothered Namjoon to think that sometimes she was alone in her own home, waking up screaming and crying, and that he couldn’t be there.
He wondered what would come of this.
Jeon Jungkook.
Did he know that if he broke her heart that two ‘big-scary-dudes-with-massive-shoulders’ were going to find his ass and rearrange it?
Hm.
Namjoon closed his eyes, letting the night take him under its wing.
-
time left: error
The black diamond choker was on the vanity, covered in Jungkook’s cum.
Both of your clothes were on the floor, shoes, pants, dress, undergarments, strewn all over, a mess, along with a now cold, wet, white bath towel that smelled like semen and saliva. It had what was left of your red lipstick on it.
One of the designer cosmetic bags was open.
There were condoms scattered on the bed now, thrown over the red silk sheets.
Jungkook was holding your hands, palms up, tenderly kissing them.
It felt strange, his soft lips on your scars.
Most people didn’t realize it. It wasn’t something they looked for or thought to think twice about, because to them, your hands had always been like that. It would be rude to comment or mention it even if they had noticed.
But Jungkook had known your hands before they became like this.
“It’s why I stopped going to school.”
He kissed the pads of your fingertips, looking at you with those dark brown orbs.
“Did something bad happen?”
You smiled, somewhere between sad and apologetic.
“I wanted to make sure that I could still see you, but unfortunately I ended up doing the exact opposite.”
He squeezed your hands tightly, giving you his own smile. “Still, you came back to me.”
You chuckled ruefully. “Not with the best intentions.”
The silver moonlight highlighted all your favorite features, the cupid’s bow of his lips, the tiny mole underneath, the wrinkle of his nose with his smile, the stars in his eyes.
“You’ve always been dangerous and ill-advised for me, but I always liked that about you.”
You arched a brow. “Hm, you were a shitty class representative, huh?”
Jungkook shrugged. “You weren’t really a class delinquent either.”
You shook your head, pulling your hands out of his. “Look at you. What kind of class presentative gets all these tattoos?” you teased, dancing your fingers up his right forearm and elbow, tracing the outlines of the script and graphics, following the swirls of the clouds and flower petals with your nails, listening to his shallow breath at your touch. “And an eyebrow piercing? Are you trying to tell everyone you’re one of the cool kids now?”
His lips twisted into a small frown. “Am I cool?”
You shrugged. “Every time I hear about the cool kids in our grade, it’s just about how they got knocked up too early or how they dropped out of university, so you tell me.”
“I haven’t gotten knocked up.”
You gave him a look, bordering on impatience.
“Wait, I mean–”
You raised a hand and planted it on his chest, pushing him down on the bed.
“Enough. Stop talking, please.”
You crawled over his body, placing your hands by his head, looking down at him. Jungkook stared up at you, long black hair splayed over the pillows. He was definitely a man now, sharp jawline, manicured brows, slight dark circles from long nights, and, as you leaned down, expensive cologne now, still light and clean but with a twist of sharpness and sweet fruit, still with the same warmth. Your lips pressed against his jaw, leaving kisses, sinking your weight onto him, skin to skin, his gasps under you, and now it seemed like you were back in that time, his teenage self and your teenage self, the same eagerness as his arms surrounded you, running his hands down your back, but now he added his nails, making you hum in approval. He did it more, scratching his nails over your spine as you kissed his jaw, his throat, his ear, jingling his earrings with your tongue, whispering against his skin.
“No one has ever been what you are to me.”
You didn’t bother using past tense, because it wasn’t.
You sat down on his thigh, his semi-hard cock twitching against your skin, turned on by your kisses and your tongue toying with his ear.
“You weren’t even very good, you know. You were kinda shit. Too impatient.”
He shuddered, tensing his forearms against your sides.
“I’m b-better now…” he whimpered, turning into a moan as you bit his ear and rubbed your wetness on his thigh, painting it with your juices. You kept it slow, leisurely, with even pressure.
“Still…”
You lifted your head, bringing your fingers inward, slipping them into his hair, pushing it back, caressing his temple with your thumbs.
“I have loved you all this time, Jungkook, even back then when I didn’t know what love was, when I was only chasing a feeling that was different from all the others.”
His eyes widened, stunned by your words.
“Ah, nevertheless, I came back too late.”
“No.”
His hands on your back, holding you tightly to him.
“I want to kiss you all the time,” he whispered, words from long ago, bringing them back. “And I will.”
He raised his forehead and touched yours.
“I know it’s not fair, I know it’s bad, I know it’s terrible, but I’ll be fucked up if you can’t be right here, with me.”
His lips to yours, small kisses and closed eyes, hiding his tears behind his lashes.
“You are the happiness, and if you continue to love me, I will never let you go.”
That’s what Jungkook said, but the sentiment was slightly interrupted by his cock being so hard that it was actually raising your thigh up into the air.
You smiled against his lips, chuckling.
“I guess I’ll bring a towel when you get her cocktail splashed into your face.”
“Maybe two. She has a lot of internet friends.”
“Hm.”
You lifted your head, smirking.
“Well, I can’t say it would be the first relationship I’ve ruined, although those were far more indirect.”
-
Jungkook tried to make the moment romantic, but her naked body was on top of him with her wet pussy rubbing on his thigh and his dick was coming back to life right in the middle of his speech.
Still, he couldn’t really complain, because at the moment he was ripping open a condom, on his knees between her legs, rolling it down, eyes roaming over her body lines, poised and elegant and sexy, her hair flared out on the pillows, still neatly pinned up, some kind of sorcery, but that didn’t surprise Jungkook, for she had always had her spell on him and he was better for it.
“You want missionary?” she teased.
He bit his lip, nodding.
“I want to watch your face.”
Her tongue flickered out on the edge of her upper lip, accenting the high point of her smirk.
“Good, then I can watch yours.”
He positioned himself in front of her, pausing for a second, unsure now, but she simply grinned and reached between her legs, one hand on his length and the other on his hip, digging her nails into his ass and shoving him inside her.
“Oh, fuck!”
She seemed highly amused, but he was gone, sudden tightness and wetness enveloping him, pitching forward and catching himself on his palms, sinking into red silk, the intensity bursting from his core and washing over him, shuddering and gasping as she gripped his ass with both hands and sank him down into her pussy, down, down, drowning in the feeling, diving into the depths of pleasure, fuck, he felt it everywhere, her walls clenching and wrapped around his length, the sensitive head rubbing against the ridges, and the emotions that rushed through him as he looked into her eyes, a little humiliated that it affected him so much, a little shocked at how good it felt even with the condom, and a lot of lust and trust and love, all rolling into one, and she purred his name, smooth and silky and gentle, and he couldn’t help himself, slowly rolling his hips and smacking down hard, burying himself to the base, eyelids fluttering, feeling it radiate over his body.
“Too... hard?” he choked out, trying to be considerate, desperate not to fuck up.
She shook her head, snickering.
“Not even close.”
“How can I–?”
But she didn’t let him finish, tapping the mandala flower tattoo on his right elbow and he raised his arms, at loss for words and breath when she raised her legs to his shoulders and tugged his forearms back down, his hands landing on the bed once more.
Oh no.
This was tighter.
“Fuck me, Jungkook, and make it rough.”
I can’t talk or I will blow my load in two seconds.
He nodded, tensing his jaw, and smacked his crotch down, her thighs smacking against his chest.
Oh, fuck me.
He wished he could sound less desperate and less ruined, but he simply didn’t have the capacity for that any longer, tumbling into a series of wild moans as he built up the pace, wave after wave of pleasure crashing into him, too much sensation, soft thighs, wet tightness squeezing his throbbing length, her hands on his upper arms, holding on tightly, his name falling from her mouth along with her erotic exhale. He loved every sound she made, every single one, her moan, her hiss, her growl, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, that’s it, give it to me, Jungkook, loved the way she looked at him, a mixture of bliss and slyness, loved the sound their bodies made, a harsh rhythmic smack, louder and louder, messing up the sheets, her head tipping back, eyes closing, fuck, yes, gonna cum if you keep going like that, so he did, hard, firm, powerful slaps of skin-to-skin, feeling so good but holding himself back, biting his lip hard and moaning in his throat, not willing to orgasm until he made her do so, at least twice.
Jungkook was being ridiculous, he knew, but he wouldn’t forgive himself if he lost it too soon during his first time inside her.
“Mmm, fuck, Jungkook, fuck!”
A sharp throb and then a cascading effect, brutal massages of his length, and he didn’t even realize it, pausing for a second from the strength of her orgasm, his cock clenched all over and squeezed, shocking pleasure that made his eyes roll back, struggling with every fiber of his being to not explode, edging himself by ceasing his thrust, and then he drew back and rammed back into her, clawing up the sheets to press her further down into the bed, nearly bending her in half, but she didn’t seem to mind, gripping his arms and raising her hips to meet him, deeper now, the head being constricted even tighter by this changed angle, him sucking in a deep inhale, smelling blackberry, evergreen, and sex, the sweet smell of her pussy, reminding him of sitting on the bus on his way home and catching that scent on his hands and clothes, not regretting it, loving her mark on him.
It was better now.
Better because he was actually in her pussy.
And better because her teeth caught the side of her lower lip, a second of lost control, lashes lowering, moan in her mouth, his name, his name, his name leaking from her lips.
“Oh, Jungkook…”
He would never tire of it.
Never.
It burst again, a lewd squelch, and the insides of his thighs were soaked with viscous honey, clinging to his balls, violent throbs around his jerking length and Jungkook was gone, gone, everything accumulating at the peak and shattering down, his deep moan flooding the room, shooting his orgasm into the condom as his quivering cock was clenched all around, unbearable euphoria that he welcomed, letting it consume every nerve and vibrate through him, a feeling he never wanted to end.
He let it swallow him, her ocean, her moonlight, her night, and he promised himself that he would never leave.
-
All in all, Jeon Jungkook hadn’t changed much. That was alright. It was clear that you both had unfinished business in the past that was being hashed out right now.
Through sex, because how else?
He was behind you, both of you kneeling on the bed, his breath on your skin, murmuring your name, wonderment and desire, leaving a trail of kisses on your shoulders and neck.
“You can bite me, you know.”
He nipped at your skin experimentally. You pinched his finger on your upper arm, the little sheepish emoji on his middle right. He squeaked and bit harder. You hummed approvingly, lowering your hand.
“You’re turning me into a crazy person,” Jungkook mumbled to the curve of your neck.
“You were already a crazy person. You just pretend you’re not.”
“That’s not true…”
You gently peeled his right hand from your arm and yanked him forward. He inhaled sharply, hard chest hitting your back as you tugged his arm forward, curving it around you.
“What non-crazy person blacks out the inner part of their elbow and tattoos the bone on the outer part as well?” you accused, rubbing his muscular forearm against your nipples, smirking at his moan, his shiver traveling through your back and to the sparks of pleasure radiating from your breasts at the lovely friction.
“Um…”
That was as far as he gave you as an answer because he had no good answers.
“Mhm.”
His hand curved around your left breast and he ran his fingers over it, tugging at your nipple. You leaned into his touch, sighing softly. Well, maybe you had been a bit harsh. He had changed. Less clumsy now, attaining his own irresistible sensuality that he probably wasn’t even aware of, considering the wavering in his tone.
“You’ve probably had better than me, huh…”
“You would be surprised at the complete inadequacy of the human race when it comes to sex, Jungkook. Most people don’t give two shits about listening to their partner’s wants.”
He pinched your nipple and you moaned, rubbing your ass against his crotch.
“You always do everything I want and even things I didn’t even know I wanted,” he mumbled.
His cock was getting the hint with every rock of your hips, rousing at the soft friction. You listened to his rapid breathing, amused, the amusement turning into fond irritation as you felt his free hand slide between your bodies, tucking his hardening length between your ass cheeks, now slowly and non-discreetly humping you.
Well.
Can’t say you were surprised.
“You’re not that hard to read, Jungkook.”
He was leaking all over the top of your ass, ramming the head into your tailbone, now both hands on your chest, forgetting to answer, too absorbed in touching you, tugging at your nipples in time with his rocking hips, lips back to your neck, biting down and sucking hard, leaving marks. There was power in his hold, passion and desperation, a needy whine vibrating in his throat, faster, harder, pinching your nipples and rubbing the tips, pulling slightly, pleasure from his lips and his hands, your own reaching back and clawing at the small of his back, leaving scratches, yes, please, harder, mark me, make me yours, and you chuckled at his declaration, you were always mine, Jungkook, and he moaned your name in affirmation, licking up your neck, hot shaking breath ghosting your ear.
“Wanna fuck you from behind.”
You sunk your nails into his skin and brought your fingers outward, flicking your wrists to leave sharp lines of lust, his moan in your wake.
“Do it,” you drawled, voice saturated with need.
He pushed you down and your caught yourself with your hands, clutching fistfuls of red silk. You heard the rip of another condom and his groan as he encased his aching length, one hand on your ass, and you spread your legs, his knees fitting between them, the head grazing your wet opening and he slid in with a shudder, filling you up and stretching you out, a little pain that dissipated as he squeezed your ass with two hands, sighing with satisfaction with you.
“I know I said I want to kiss you all the time, and I do,” he panted, stalling.
You smiled, turning your head to look over your shoulder. Jungkook looked back at you and he reached forward, driving deeper into you, making you mewl for him. He plucked the pins from your hair, one by one, undoing the perfection, tossing them aside as he spoke, shrouding your shoulders and face with cool-toned black, surreal and glamorous.
“But I think I’ve decided I also want to fuck you all the time.”
You smirked. “You don’t take much convincing, I must say.”
He eased the last pin from your hair and flicked it aside.
You heard it fall to the floor.
That one wouldn’t be found in the morning.
He grinned. “Maybe I already knew you would be amazing.”
Instead of replying, you leaned forward and then smacked your ass back into his crotch.
Jungkook reeled, hand flying back to your hip, grabbing it tightly as you roughly pushed back into him, his natural response being to thrust forward, compounding the pleasure for you and for him, looking forward again and tipping your head back, letting go, moaning for him, his hardness twitching with your sound, loud and getting louder, bodies tangled, bed creaking, clutching your ass for dear life. You lifted one hand and brought beside your hip and Jungkook gripped your forearm, your body naturally dropping lower, deepening each thrust, and that was it, the uncontrollable need resonating in his deep voice, forcefully pounding you into the mattress, thighs, crotch, balls slapping into your lower half, carnal and wild and visceral, his name and your name mixing together, filling the room with the sight, sound, and smell of sex, so strong, fuck, he was so fucking strong, and so were you, a shock every time your bodies connected, until you were wailing with the ferocity of orgasm, squirming and clutching his forearm as he held yours, clenching around his length, but this time he didn’t stop, fucking you through it, gasping for air.
“Oh fuck, yes, fuck, do it again, cum for me again, fuck, feels so fucking good, feels like you’re choking my cock…”
And he brought it out of you again, your right hand punched into the sheets, your left in his hold, moaning for him, Jungkook, fuck, Jungkook, for him then, him now, him forever, ecstasy and elation, hitting a high you thought didn’t even exist, lust and trust and love, raising your torso and slamming your palm onto the headboard, rattling the whole damn bed.
“Fuck!”
Slamming back onto his cock and squeezing hard, Jungkook gasping at the suddenness of the harsh throbs around his length, jolting inside you and spilling another into the condom, your head whipping to the side, spotting a mirror and there he was, head thrown back, long black hair touching his shoulders, open mouth, eyes rolled back, chest shuddering, your name a shaky moan, holding you tight, his right arm travelling, wrapping around you and lifting you up, and then it was you in the mirror, your body against his, skin to skin, his dark brown orbs shifting down, feeling your eyes on him, and then he was watching your reflections, seeing your joined bodies, panting in unison, both sweaty and spent.
You smiled at him, lit up by moonlight and mirrors.
He smiled back.
And then his hand was on your chin and he turned your head to face him, tilting his head and kissing your smile, seeing it not its reflection but the real thing, no longer only when you thought he wasn’t looking.
-
time left: 00:00
“Oi.”
Jungkook didn’t recognize that voice at all. He concluded must still be dreaming.
A finger podded his temple.
“Oi!”
He started, but the arms encircling him pinned him in place, not letting him and his naked body leave the bed. Softness pressed against his back, bare nipples rubbing against his skin. He froze.
His dick was rock-hard.
A black-haired man in a black suit with a disturbingly handsome face was glaring at him.
“You animals made a fucking mess.”
“Go away, Seokjin.”
Jungkook squeaked, unable to talk because one of the hands holding him was dancing downwards under the covers, wrapping around his impossibly stiff length. He prayed it wouldn’t start moving up and down, but it did. Slowly. Not enough, but still too much, because he didn’t really want to get jacked off first thing in the morning while someone was very clearly assessing whether or not to cause extreme bodily harm to him.
Well, he did want to get jacked off first thing in the morning.
It was the bodily harm he was less enthused about.
The man named Seokjin squinted at him and it took every fiber of Jungkook’s being to not make a goddamn peep as her fingers ghosted the head, smearing slick pre-cum over the slit.
“I want to take a shower.”
“Then go take a shower. I left towels for you,” she mumbled behind Jungkook’s back.
“Namjoon’s in the shower right now.”
“Then order us some breakfast.”
“I sent Taehyung to do that. Also, it’s noon.”
“Couldn’t you order room service?”
Seokjin shrugged and Jungkook realized his shoulders were huge. “He said he had a friend who worked in the kitchen and was going to reserve us a table.”
She raised her head, resting her chin on Jungkook’s right shoulder and pulsing his cock with her right hand under the sheets. “Taehyung has a lot of friends, doesn’t he?”
Seokjin looked at Jungkook pointedly.
“Er… yeah. T-Tons…”
Those brown eyes narrowed, scrutinizing Jungkook suspiciously. “He seems like a dork.”
“I like dorks. That’s why I keep you around.”
Seokjin stuck his tongue out childishly and yelled at the top of his lungs. “Namjoon!”
“I’m done!”
“Finally,” Seokjin grumbled, walking off and yanking the bathroom door open, barging in unceremoniously.
“Gah!”
“Gah!!!”
-
“Oh, fuck, please, d-don’t…”
“It’ll only take me a second.”
You dove under the covers and Jungkook clapped his hands over his mouth, your grip on his twitching length moving fast and tight, rubbing your tongue on the hot head, and you were right, it only took a few seconds, and then Jungkook was hissing through his fingers, now, fuck, now, and your mouth swallowed his cock, not a moment too soon as thick spurts of his orgasm shot into your throat, coating the back of your tongue, savoring his smell and his thighs under your breasts, rubbing your nipples on the muscle.
“N-No, stop, stop,” Jungkook whimpered desperately, grabbing you by the shoulders and yanking you up, your head popping out, smirk on your lips.
You opened your mouth and showed him your tongue covered in his cum.
“Shit, you’re going to be the death of me…”
He hurriedly nudged your chin and you closed it, grinning.
Dangerous.
Ill-advised.
Jungkook grinned back at you helplessly, holding your smiling face in his hands.
---
some time later
“I have two towels.”
“She didn’t throw her drink at me.”
“Damn. I even seduced the bartender a little bit to get those plush cotton ones.”
“She asked if she could keep the ring so she could sell it and give the money to her secret, less good-looking boyfriend so he could buy her a new ring.”
“Oh. Wait, what?”
He shrugged, rubbing the back of his head. “I said sure, because it wasn’t like the love of my life couldn’t afford her own diamonds.”
“Ah, true, true.”
“I might be slandered for a little while on the internet.”
“Nah, you won’t. Maybe for like, six hours. Then everyone’s attention span will be somewhere else. Also, your taste upgraded in their eyes, from social media influencer to burlesque dancer.”
You grinned, raising your hands to create a finger frame of your index fingers and thumbs, enclosing the handsome face of Jeon Jungkook, long black hair, silver brow piercing, dark sculpted eyebrows, big brown eyes, defined jawline, shapely pink lips, mole of his nose and cheek, and finally that perfect mole underneath his lower lip, appearing as he smiled at you, confused at what you were doing.
“Even though we all know you’re just a hopeless sucker for the class delinquent. Tsk tsk.”
His grin grew mischievous, walking over to you as you lowered your hands.
“Well, I was a shit class representative anyway.”
He leaned down to kiss you, smile to smile.
Twelve hours.
Sunset to night.
-
fin.
--
masterpost
711 notes · View notes
ruby-whistler · 3 years
Text
i made a list of the vibes of the hermits i watch, so you might want to check some of them out! this is just mostly jokes, but i thought all of the more “serious” propaganda was missing something, so have what truly makes hermitcraft worth it; the players’ unique styles!
will be back on my dsmp stuff asap but it’s the first day of season 8 and i would really appreciate if you checked them out through the links provided :]
Grian; [ episode one link ]
vibes of a 17 year old mcyter, is actually 27 and married
noo not my red jumpah!
chaotic capitalist
someone is making the server better through order? *starts another war* whoops, hand slipped :D
he built a- he rebuilt his entire megabase in survival, above a giant lake of lava, in the nether, on hard mode, upside down??
“watching as scar dies over and over in my trap is peak comedy and i’m tired of pretending it’s not” but it happens like 5 times i every season
video editing is very main-stream and good for short attention spans!
*sad montage over losing stuff he’ll get back in 15 minutes because he’s rich*
pesky birdd! great elytra flier! amazing builder! will tnt your house! poultrymannn!!
wholesome, chaos incarnate, talented architect
why won’t mumbo respond to my messages it’s been two weeks :[ (clingy)
doors???????????? your house has doors???? no doors for you good sir!
will laugh a lot at a lot of things, esp when he’s with his friends
genuinely just so fun to watch
Mumbo Jumbo; [ episode one link ]
perfect british accent
mustache man (warning: he has no mustache irl)
*fails ten businesses in a row* iskall please help
redstone is his element
“it’s actually quite simple” i like your funny words magic man, now can you repeat how in the hell you made a that fancy vault work-
filmographer?? i think? met up with grian irl
him and grian have a robot son named grumbot. that has nothing to do with the vibes but i had to mention him because he means a lot to me.
tries to stay out of wars and server politics until someone (grian) drags him into them
minigame maker, makes the hermits competitive and that is scary (also very funny) e. g. button, hermit challengesss!
“it’ll be fineee” *que shot of everything on fire behind him*
makes his base a living being and then all his neighbors end up feeding it instead of him
conspiracy theorist. bumbo baggins. the usual.
very entertaining videos that help you learn more about minecraft mechanics!
GoodTimesWithScar; [ episode one link ]
wheelchair creator with literally the best vibes
so wholesome i. he is so cool he makes me so happy :’D
*extremely cool announcer voice* ooooo hello there my fellow miners and crafters, good timeees with scar heree, and welcome backk to the wonderful world of hermits and crafting, and we’re flying over-
commentates everything extremely well
spends tenths of hours on builds within a single video and doesn’t bat an eye
lore for all of his builds! he builds these amazing bases to tell a story!
“i wanna see white flags! white flags, outside your base, by-“ wait no wrong anti-rebellion army leader
all videos have a clear objective
mostly building, but he loves hanging out/helping his friends!
loves disney movies! wants to go to space! :D
kind-hearted, always makes everyone else smile
can be chaotic but usually just tries to have fun and make sure everyone else has fun too
*flies into a tree on half a heart* wait what why did i die D:
scar. scar please eat. you’re going to die for the tenth time this video-
the non-chaotic capitalist, has extremely creative shop designs
a danger to himself, but also the kind of person you can’t be angry at for long
BdoubleO100; [ episode one link ]
the guitar music at the beginning of his videos brings a smile to my face, it just has such an immaculate mood
*camera pans over him as said music plays* ladies and gentlemen welcome to another episode of hoimycraffff
the way he talks is extremely endearing
one of the best builders on the server - probably best builder of interiors in existence
able to make a palette using any number of strange blocks and then make amazing builds using it
built a whole castle as a backdrop, then built an entire giant mountain for said castle
extremely sensitive to short jokes, usually gets pranked by others because his reactions are always so funny
his daughters show up from time to time in his room while he’s recording and it’s so cute
*has no way to see the sun but still knows it’s nighttime* gotta go schleep!
scar, pointing at him “this is why we can’t have nice sunsets”
(scar dies because of mobs every time bdubs isn’t on the server to sleep)
likes to be accomplice because he isn’t the one being made fun of (/lh)
*shoots himself in front of a confused grian because he thinks the guy wants his face again when he’s actually just looking for a netherportal*
is usually the underdog so it feels good when he wins
they’re all actually such great friends so it’s genuinely funny to watch
he himself is amazing at entertainment and just a very cool guy
ImpulseSV; [ episode one link ]
what’s going on everyone, my name is impulse and welcome back to hermitcraft!
always speaks with a smile in his voice
has a good dynamic with basically everyone
great co-worker and always helps out if he can
had his base turned pink during the swap, and instead of changing it back afterwards, he dyed his skin’s hair and clothing pink to match it
very cool and original building style!
makes a lot of farms and sells what he gets in his few shops
makes money to be able to do more stuff and make more farms
blows up most his base ever so often to rebuild parts. you know, like a normal person does in minecraft survival.
the grind is never over
the guy who always gets all of the work done on the school project and proceeds to be chill about it
always has very cool side-projects going on and puts his heart into all of them
pog timelapses!!
Rendog; [ episode one link ]
*short, funny scene from the video at the beginning slowly fades out into great music
dogs howling as the half-dog half-cog logo comes up*
greetiiings cyberdogs and citizens of the interbubs! this is ren diggity dawg coming atcha, in another minecraft episodes varuuummm the hermit. craft. server. (hey!)
we’re kicking things off today my friends, from the- *location name on screen*
that intro gets me hyped every time
he’s a furry who talks in bro language it’s great i swear - very atypical but fun
he transformed an entire biome into a star wars planet for his base
his building skills and dedication are incredible
horny (just a little bit)
the only person who cared about mycelium in the whole rebellion
does a lot of roleplay-themed stuff and mysteries to be solved
“b-dubba-dubs one hundred”
extremely upbeat & sweet guy
adds -age after everything “biddage” “flyage” to make it sound Cooler
amazingly positive always and funny as hell
mcc winner!! wooooooooo :D
always tries to be where stuff is happening and interact with people
very entertaining editing style
Iskall85; [ episode one link ]
drives joke into the mud and then picks them up and does it again which is funny
starts videos with one-off bits
iskallman!!! the superhero literally no one needed and yet there he is
only has one (1) braincell when with mumbo
they both do and they’re hilarious together every time
like when they laughed at squeaky noises for ten minutes straight. guys please you’re adult men
bernie the leaf master
omega (something) of doom!!
encourages gambling (in a videogame)
he has so many jokes he keeps using i can’t possibly fit them all in here
basically a wildcard
i have no idea what he’s doing this season
i have no idea what he’s doing ever actually
tame chaos, confusing to the point when it’s funny again
really great builder as well!
mostly for younger audiences but his videos are a good watch in general
feel free to send asks about hc! i’m already loosely involved in hermitblr but yeah, my dsmp followers aren’t immune :] /lh /j
832 notes · View notes
lostinthewiind · 3 years
Text
Piss Off Your Parents - Part 1
Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu
Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren't a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner's 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none
Song → 18 by Anarbor
A/N: if you couldn’t already tell, I have planned this as a series/full story. I was torn between writing it on here or on Wattpad or something, but ultimately decided on Tumblr . . . but let me know if you would prefer it on another platform as well! Also, this series will eventually include smut/NSFW content but that will be tagged appropriately when the time comes. As always, I hope you enjoy. 
Next →Part 2
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Slamming the front door behind yourself on your way out that morning, you quickly stuffed your earbuds into your ears and cranked your music as loud as you could to drown out the sounds of your parents yelling after you and, consequently, at one another after you had dropped the bomb about your new job on them seconds before you had left, giving them as little time as possible to shame you for it.
After graduating high school and turning 18, you had decided it was time to take your life into your hands, which wasn’t too easy while you were still living under your parents’ roof, but you had to start somewhere and that somewhere was getting a job at the local corner store, Sakanoshita Market. 
You knew that your parents wanted you to go to university and ‘make something of yourself’, but you also knew that you could never truly be happy under their dictatorship-like ruling, so you decided to get a job, no matter how shitty, save your money, move out as soon as possible, and go from there. 
It was definitely going to be a process, and not an easy one, but all you had to do was take it one step at a time.
Rounding the corner and seeing the market in the distance, you felt your nerves begin to bubble inside of you a little. Sure, you had gotten some part-time jobs here and there during summer vacation before, but you had never gotten a full-time job before and had never needed the money from a job like you did now. Before, the cash you made was for extra spending money during the summer and school year, but now the money you would be making would be funding your future. It seemed like a lot of pressure to put on a job that entailed stocking shelves, checking out customers, and cleaning. 
The lady who had hired you had basically explained that since she was getting older and her son, who had been maintaining the place previously, had gotten a new job, the store needed someone to learn the ropes and take care of the place on a daily basis; and since you were young, a fast learner, and didn’t have anything else in your life besides work, you were a perfect fit. 
As the shop doors slid open smoothly to welcome you into the store you had been inside countless times in the past, you suddenly felt completely out of place in the familiar market. Now that you were an employee instead of a customer, the atmosphere had completely shifted. Instead of heading right for the fridges to grab a drink like you usually did, your eyes shifted immediately to the front counter where a figure with its feet up hid behind an open newspaper.
Just like every other time you had visited while the store owner’s son was working, he did everything humanly possible to avoid interaction. Usually, you would have appreciated not being bothered while trying to scan the shelves, but since this time was different, the lack of acknowledgement was slightly unnerving. 
“Ahem,” you cleared your throat, hoping it was enough to catch his attention. It was not. Instead, he flipped the page of the newspaper and you watched as a hand emerged from behind the paper barrier to flick the ashes from his cigarette into an ashtray sitting beside the register. 
Eyebrows furrowed, you really wished that the shop owner herself had been there to greet you for your first day instead of her seemingly useless son. “Hello.” You stepped up to the counter, the feeling of not belonging sinking deeper into your bones. 
Slowly, the newspaper separating you from the man behind the counter lowered and the shop owner’s son glared back at you, eyes half-lidded as if he were seconds away from falling asleep and the cigarette from before hanging from his bottom lip. This was far from the first time you had interacted with him, but you would be surprised if he remembered you as a customer even a little. Whenever he checked customers out, you could tell he was running on autopilot. 
The man’s eyes drifted down to your hands, which were resting on top of the counter now. Noticing you didn’t have anything to purchase, he cocked a brow. “Need help finding somethin’?” 
“Ugh, no,” you answered. “I’m the new employee. I’m supposed to start today.”
His eyes scanned you once more, this time more thoroughly, and you swallowed hard. Feeling as if you were being observed under a microscope, you slid your hands off of the counter and stuffed them into your pockets self-consciously. 
As he inspected you inch by inch, you took the time to take a closer look at him as well. With dyed blonde hair, two earrings in his left ear, an apparent nicotine addiction, and a noticeably flippant attitude toward his job, he was the definition of the type of man your parents would kill you for bringing home. Somehow, this only made him more intriguing. You wondered if he really was as disinterested in everything as he seemed or if it was just this job he thoroughly hated and became someone a lot more interesting when he wasn’t behind a counter.
“How old are you?” he asked out of the blue, catching you off guard a little. While he waited for you to answer, he set the newspaper to the side, dragged his feet from the counter top, and patted out some of the wrinkles from the white apron he had tied around his bright orange sweatshirt. 
“I’m 18,” you responded, not sure why it mattered but also not seeing any harm in answering honestly. 
Seconds later, the door to the back of the shop and storage room opened and the familiar face of the woman who had hired you stepped into view. “Oh, Y/N!” she greeted happily; much more enthusiastically and welcoming than her son. “Sorry about that, I was just getting some last minute things together.” She eyed her son out of the corner of her eye and noted the fresh embers in the ashtray. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”
“No, I just got here,” you told her. 
“Good.” She smiled sweetly before turning to her son. “Well, you can head out now, Keishin. Thank you for watching the counter.”
“Yeah,” the man, Keishin, grunted as he untied the apron from around his waist, slipped it over his head, and hung it up on a hook behind the counter. “See ya.”
With that, Keishin left, leaving you and his mother alone. Wasting no time, Mrs. Sakanoshita, whom the store was named after, got right to work on teaching you the basics and gifting you with a white apron of your own to wear while on the job. Since it was the middle of the day and the customer flow was relatively slow, she introduced you to how the register and scanner at the counter worked before moving on to unpacking boxes.
Just like you had promised on your resume and during the interview, you were a quick learner and Mrs. Sakanoshita was more than pleased to see you picking up the job quickly and efficiently. 
By the time the after work/school rush of patrons picking up items on their way home had begun, you were feeling confident in your abilities and, with your boss by your side to answer any questions you may have, you checked out customer after customer, building up muscle memory for scanning items, collecting cash, opening the register, handing out receipts, and sending customers on their merry way. 
All in all, the job was quickly growing on you. You liked the fact that, for the most part, you were the only employee on duty, so when there weren’t any customers in the store, you could work silently on unpacking boxes without having to worry about making small talk or being friendly with any coworkers. In fact, as far as you knew, the only people who worked at the store at all were you, Mrs. Sakanoshita, and her son, Keishin. 
It seemed as though you had really landed a sweet gig. 
After showing you how to lock up, Mrs. Sakanoshita headed home for the night, leaving you to finish stocking the shelves and cleaning the shop before you would head home as well.
Now that you were truly the only person left, you walked over to the old radio you had spotted on the counter during training that day and fiddled with the dials, trying to get some music playing to accompany you during your evening chores. After some careful handiwork and enduring some horrendous static and high-pitched screeching while searching for a station, you settled on what sounded like some old instrumental music and got to work on stocking the remaining shelves.
Throughout your shift, you quickly learned that the store got quite warm during the day and you had needed to tie your hair up to keep the back of your neck from dripping with sweat. The night wasn’t much better either, especially since the lack of customers so late meant that the doors rarely opened, keeping the cold night air outside and the warm store air inside. 
After finishing the last box of supplies, you exhaled and wiped your brow. You were exhausted, that was for sure, but you still had to sweep. 
Deciding to take a quick break, you turned toward the floor-to-ceiling fridges at the back of the shop and pulled open the door, sighing happily when the cool air hit your skin. Exhaling slowly, you snickered when you saw your breath fog up in front of you face. 
“You’re letting all the cold air out.”
You shrieked when you heard a voice in your right ear and slammed the fridge door shut, jumping back in the process. Thanks to the music from the radio and the loud hum of the generator that kept the fridges cold, you hadn’t heard the front doors slide open or the footsteps of Keishin approaching you.
“Jesus!” You clamped your hand over your chest. “You scared the shit out of me!”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Sorry?”
“What are you doing here?”
Keishin glared at you. “You work here one day and suddenly act like you own the place?”
Realizing how rude your question had come across, you composed yourself and rephrased. “What I meant was, your mom didn’t say you were coming back.”
Pointing upward, Keishin sighed, disinterested. “I live in the apartment above the shop.”
“Oh.” Things started making much more sense and you suddenly felt pretty embarrassed for how you had reacted. 
“Yeah . . . oh.” He rolled his eyes, but it didn’t come across necessarily rude but more like he was exhausted and you were adding to said exhaustion. “Why were you standing with the door open anyway?”
As he spoke, he stepped toward you. At first, your feet felt cemented to the floor and you didn’t move. But when he persisted closer, you eventually stumbled back and Keishin opened the fridge door you had been standing in front of to grab a beer from inside. With drink in hand, he eyed you once again, waiting for an answer.
“It’s really hot,” you said, gesturing to his orange sweater. “I don’t know how you wear that thing in here.”
Looking down at his apparel, he just shrugged. “You’ll get used to it.” He turned and started for the counter, presumably to pay for the drink he had just taken. “In the future, stand outside if you’re warm.”
“Okay.” You nodded, mindlessly tailing him. You had to grab the broom from behind the counter anyway, but that was the furthest thing from the front of your mind at that moment. If anything, you were still trying to calm down a little from being startled and now being alone with your boss’s son. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” He popped the tab on the beer, settled into the stool behind the counter, and downed at least half of the drink in a few large gulps. 
You watched him, probably a little too closely, and as you did you found yourself reexamining the features you had taken note of earlier that day: the dyed blonde hair held out of his face with a thin black headband, the natural brown hair that peeked out from the roots, the two small silver hoop earrings in his left ear, the scent of cigarette smoke that clung to him like how the smell of rain clung to the air after a heavy storm. 
Noticing your gaze, which would have been nearly impossible to miss, Keishin quirked a brow at you and held out the can of beer toward you. “You want a sip?”
Startled from your thoughts, you shook your head. “I’m only 18.” You reminded him.
“Oh, right.” He withdrew the can and took another sip, this one much smaller than the first few. “Then why are you looking at me like that?”
Eyes wide, you thought quick to come up with an excuse. “The broom.” You pointed to the item behind him. “Can you pass me the broom?”
After handing you the broom, Keishin pulled a slip of paper and a pen out from his pocket and started writing and scribbling things down, sipping the remainder of his beer occasionally and ignoring you completely. 
Trying to avoid staring at Keishin anymore than you already had, you started sweeping at the far end of the store and left the area around and behind the counter for last. Eventually, though, you had worked your way back over to the the silent man and was forced to clean the floor behind where he was sitting, trying hard not to disturb him.
Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of what he was so focused on; it looked like a crude drawing of a volleyball court. “What’s that?” you asked, the words leaving your mouth before you realized you were being rude again and snooping.
Keishin, however, didn’t seem angry or annoyed in the slightest. “Volleyball positions,” he huffed. It was clear he was growing frustrated.
“You play volleyball?”
He shook his head and looked over his shoulder at you. “I used to. Now I coach the boy’s team at Karasuno.”
“I went to Karasuno,” you said mindlessly, just trying to make conversation at that point. 
He hummed in response and turned his attention back to the sheet before him. “Did you play volleyball?”
“No. Soccer.”
“Do you still play?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Do you still play volleyball?”
“With a neighbourhood association sometimes . . . but not really.”
“Why?”
The corners of his mouth curling up into a smirk, Keishin looked back to you once more. “I asked you first.”
“It’s not a good answer.” You leaned against the broom handle and sighed. “Don’t have the time.”
“You’re young and just graduated high school. You’ve got nothing but time.”
“Not with this job.”
Keishin scoffed, folded the paper, and shoved it back into his pocket with the pen. “Speaking of which, why would you take such a boring job at a store like this?”
You just shrugged. “I need the money.”
“Don’t you live with your parents?”
“That’s the problem,” you said, noticing the confusion on his face. “I told you it wasn’t a good answer.”
“Do they know you work here?”
“Do they know? Yes,” you answered truthfully. “Do they like it? Absolutely not.”
Keishin grinned at that before finishing his beer and tossing the empty can into the recycling bin beside the front door. “So you’re one of those teens, huh?”
You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Trust me, kid, pissing off your parents just for the sake of it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“You think I’m doing all this just because I can?”
“Aren’t you?”
“No.”
“Why then?”
“That story’s too long and convoluted for me to recite right now . . . especially to some old dude I just met today.”
Keishin chuckled under his breath, hands stuffed into his pockets as he headed for the door at the back of the shop so he could head upstairs to his apartment. “’Old dude’,” he repeated, clearly amused. “Don’t forget to lock up before you go home.”
As he turned his back to you, your curiosity got the better of you. “How old are you?”
Stopping in his tracks, Keishin pulled out a carton of cigarettes from his pants’ pocket along with a lighter. After placing the smoke between his lips, he lit it and inhaled deeply. “Too old for you, sweetheart,” he spoke while exhaling, smoke spilling from his lips as he smirked at you. 
With that, he disappeared into the back. You wanted to shout after him that you had told him how old you were without hesitation when he had asked, but you stayed silent instead. 
As much as his presence unnerved you and his superiority complex aggravated you, you still found yourself inexplicably drawn to him. Maybe it was because he seemed completely disinterested in you, or maybe it was because he was everything you were always told to stay away from. 
The one thing you did know, however, was that if everyone around you was going to keep trying to convince you they knew how you should live your life better than you did, you were going to prove to them just how they wrong they were one way or another. 
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sandbees · 3 years
Text
Yuu and the House of Mouse; The...Great Seven?
It’s been three weeks since Yuu has worked at the House of Mouse.
Headmaster Crowley decided that going would be a great experience! He graciously gave you permission to work there! (Just don’t forget to do your homework and get a good rest after; he doesn’t want you to be lagging behind your classes after all!)
At the House of Mouse, you eventually learned the ins and outs; and you’ve gained everyone’s attention. They like you a lot! You have this, “If I talk to you about my problems you’ll listen kindly and either give me advice or continue to let me vent out my feelings” vibe.
Being a (sort of) therapist must have helped, huh?
You yourself have a few favorite guests that you can always look forward to seeing;
Tiana and Naveen: You hit it off when you first met. Something about their dynamic and allowing you to vent about back at Twisted Wonderland gave you good vibes about them. They’re polite guests, and they have given you advice on how to improve your work. Tiana has (once) invited you to work for them if you wanted to work at another job, but you tell them that you have school. They’re immediately concerned, because someone going to school working at a job with very demanding and colorful characters? You assure them that you’ve manage to balance school and work, however they seem less than convinced. Though nothing big changed, they occasionally remind you to take breaks and to have fun watching the cartoons on screen when you’re not busy waiting tables. (They also give you candy from their time! Butterfingers, anyone?)
Hades: He’s a frequent guest at the House of Mouse. You had lent an ear to his complaints, and then again, and then again, and soon enough you’re his personal therapist. You’re the go-to waiter whenever Hades shows up; much to the delight of the staff (The penguin waiters are...a little scared of Hades). It’s surprising how little he seems to reflect Ignihyde. He’s like a shut in extrovert. However, when you tell Hades this, he becomes very interested in your world. He’ll let you ramble about what you know about Twisted Wonderland, and he’s going to make smug comments about it. After that encounter, Hades starts conversations with you that isn’t just complaining about his siblings. In fact, he’s one of your pep talkers when you’re feeling stressed or down.
The Darling Siblings: If you don’t recognize them, they’re the siblings from Peter Pan! (Wendy, John, and Michael) When you first met them, they acted very polite. And they gave “children, protect them” vibes. As you continue to work, you discover that the children had a more playful side to them. You could easily joke with them and in exchange Wendy would tell you stories or John and Michael would tell you about their recent adventures.
Scrooge McDuck: Donald introduced him to you, actually. He mentioned, “Since you sound like you’ve been on a lot of adventures, I think you might like to share stories.” How right he was. Scrooge’s stories were captivating and enchanting, you’d always be on the edge of your seat hearing them. Whenever he swung by and you were on break, you two would be swapping stories of your lives. He was most interested in your first day story; about the magical chandelier specifically. You always look forward to a new story he would have.
Of course there were others, but the ones listed above were the people you loved seeing.
Today was a typical night in the House of Mouse, though everyone seemed...a little agitated?
You ask Mickey, and he explains that there was a reservation for a villain get together...and last time, it went poorly.
You offer to serve them as a waiter, since you’re sure that you can handle it.
“Are you sure?” “I’ve dealt with worse characters...I think. By the way, can I get the list of who’s going?”
You find out Hades was the one who reserved it (oh thank goodness, someone you’re already familiar with. And he likes you)
He’s also bringing - “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” “The Queen of Hearts, Scar, Ursula, Jafar, The Evil Queen, and Maleficent.” “I-“
Imagine your shock when you find out Hades is bringing all of the Great Seven. You’ve already met Maleficent, but someone like the Queen of Hearts, or the Beautiful Queen??? You’re ready to walk to your doom right now.
When the doors open, you go about your night as usual, though your on edge as you anxiously wait for the Great Seven to arrive. This would be the first time you would be interacting with most of them.
When they arrive, you greet them and take them to their table, doing normal procedure.
However, things go south when Hades asks Yuu to come and have a chat with them when they go on break.
“yeAH suuurrreee-“ “Great! They have a lot of questions and I think they’d like to hear what you have to say!”
Yuu is making high pitch dying screams when she gets to the kitchen.
“Oohhhh my god, they want to talk to me. What if I mess up? What if they dislike me and then try to kill me? Oh no oh no-“
Yuu is trying not to scream in excitement and stress as Mickey excuses her to talk with the Great Seven.
The meeting? It goes well.
When they ask about their world, Yuu describes their time at NRC, and how the villains were praised as good people, and were known as the “Great Seven”.
They were very intrigued about this, and would always puff up when Yuu praised them. They also ask questions about Yuu as well!
What? They’re villains, but they’re not rude.
They listen to your tales, and are sympathetic to the idiots that you surround yourself with. They get it, they are also surrounded by idiotic, self centered heroes who think they’re in the right- (projecting much?)
The Queen of Hearts is a lot more than you expected; she’s strict, but she also has good humor (as long as you don’t mock her). When you ask what kind of tarts she likes, she responded with “Any kind of tart, however jam filled tarts are one of my favorites.”. You wonder if she’d like the tarts Trey would make.
Scar...isn’t talkative, though he seems very pleased when you talk about what NRC thinks of him. He’s actually kinder to you - you’ve heard stories from Goofy and the penguins waiters that Scar is hard to please.
Ursula is what you would call a sweet talker. Kind of like Hades, but you can tell that she wants something. You indulge her, answering any questions about your world. She seems particularly interested in the rivalry between NCR and RSA, however.
Jafar wants to know everything about Scarabia. From it’s current standing to it’s history. You try your best to explain as much as you know about the dorm; but you mention that your information is limited since it wasn’t your dorm. He’s satisfied with what you give, but Jafar tells you that next time, he’d like to know more. You better go study up on Scarabia now :) (Or ask Kalim or Jamil about Scarabia)
The Beautiful (Evil?) Queen acts smug, and she seems relaxed around your presence. Maybe it’s because you told her that she’s known as the Beautiful Queen? She wants to know who is housed in her dorm, and like Jafar, she wants to know everything about Pomfiore. When she heard about the VDC, she asks multiple questions about it. (“When the VDC comes around, maybe I shall grace everyone with my presence...hmm, or should I help NRC’s team? I mean, they would represent me, of course.”
I’ve actually mentioned that you have met Hades and Maleficent in this ask
Hades and Maleficent consider you as friends (maybe not close friends, but friends nonetheless)
The rest of the Great Seven also have positive opinions on you; and they try their best to live up to your expectations! They can’t have you turn your back on them after you openly praise them!
You’re dragged away from your job - instead you focus on entertaining the Great Seven! (Which was fine, Pete was at it again by trying to drive out the guests; you kept the Great Seven in so they could still run the show!)
As the night went on, you felt yourself getting less and less nervous about being with the Great Seven. You had loads of fun!
Of course the show ended sooner than you liked; and it was closing time.
“It was really wonderful to meet you! Maybe we’ll see each other again when the House of Mouse opens again?”
“Why would we wait for nighttime? I have a magic portal to travel to Twisted Wonderland whenever we’d like.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
Turns out Maleficent had an easier way to travel to Twisted Wonderland; but she gave you a sparkling gem. She told you that when she gave everyone (The Great Seven) a way to travel to Twisted Wonderland, they’d surely visit you. With the gem, it will sparkle and shine a certain color when they do.
The color? Well, of course it would be the dorm colors! It would be easier that way, would it not?
So, in the near future, the Great Seven would be able to visit you.
What do you think? You’re not against the idea; but the idea of one of them showing up during class is going to be a nightmare.
Oh well, future you will worry about that.
You thank Maleficent and go about returning to your world.
Before you get to the mirror, Mickey stops you.
“Hey, I just wanted to thank you for making sure the villains stay, it was a lifesaver and you saved our show.” “No...problem?” “Haha, our club would’ve been toast if they left! Thank you again!” “...Your welcome?”
And then you departed from the House of Mouse, immediately crashing onto your bed. Lazily, you take a glance at your mirror, wondering when you’ll see the Great Seven.
Then you promptly fall asleep.
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Something to Consider
Chapter One | Sometime In 2007
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Chapters| One Two Three Four Five
Synopsis| Having a special technique that hasn’t been passed down in over a 100 years, you’ve been amongst the strongest since birth but with no clan of your own to clam this technique. It causes the Clans to offer arranged marriages left and right. Overwhelmed parents turn to your aunt's clan and the Zenin’s are happy to step in, in hopes you will pass down the technique down to them.
Whole story contains themes| arranged marriage, angst, violence, death, swearing? sexual harassments(nothing crazy) and of course SMUT. 
Authors note| This is about the road to marrying Gojo, it’s gonna be long and filled with angst because I'm mean. This story starts with the reader being around 11ish. Has a little bit of manga spoilers from vol.8 because it has Toji. Hope you like it. This is written for my two whore best friends. :)
Sitting in the back of a black sedan, the rain and some random talk radio station playing softly. The sounds of the rain on the roof made you sleepy. You let out a sigh, pressing your head against the window, watching as the water droplets race. You had just gotten out of school when you heard your mothers fussing through the thick wood of the front door. Not even getting the chance to greet her, she was already on you about changing into something nice; tossing clothes around in a hurry. Your father on the other hand was calm, casually chatting with you while your mother rushed around in a tizzy.
You didn’t have the time to ask what this was about or why you needed to hurry before your mother pushed you into the car with Suzuki. Suzuki was your personal driver and bodyguard appointed by the Zenin clan. She was always so kind and patient, putting up with your snappy comments and pre-teen attitude. Even when you were being difficult she never got upset with you. You never understood why she was appointed to such a low grade job. She was incredibly strong. What was all the fuss about you and your technique anyway?
Suzuki taking you to the Zenin Estate after school was a common occurrence, usually it was for training but today it seemed more important than just that. You were your parents' prized possession because the Zenin clan convinced them of it. Your parents weren’t sorcerers but your mothers family was long ago. They possessed The Divine Panther, it hadn’t been passed down in over 100 years and by some miracle you got it. The Zenin’s took the opportunity, hoping you would pass it down into their clan but that wasn’t completely up to them. Not like they treated you like you were special. Pushing you so hard to master your technique while most of them looked down upon you. Most likely because your cursed energy was “weird” as Noaya said. Most of the youth are scared to train with you. So why train when everyone is already scared of you in the first place? The Zenin’s didn’t even fully understand your technique or so they say but they knew you were strong. Special grade strong, up there with the six eyes. “But just appearing strong isn’t the same as being strong.” Noaya would always say to you. I’m sure someone older and wiser than him told him that. Those words are far too sophisticated for a boy like him. 
“Where are we even going, Suzuki-san?” you ask, moving your head from the window. 
She looked at you through the rearview mirror as she spoke. “We are headed to the Zen’in residence, they wanted you to attend a clan meeting. Did your parents not tell you?” 
You shake your head, crossing your arms. “No, they were too busy picking out clothes and telling me how to properly greet people, like I don't know how to.”  Shifting your kimono as you grumble. “I’m not even a Zenin. Why do they want me there?” 
“I’m sure they just want to include you.” She smiled in assurance.
She wasn’t wrong, but for some reason you didn’t like the feeling you got. It wasn’t that they wanted to include you in a clan meeting. The clan meeting was about you. They wanted you to marry one of theirs for the gain of power but they weren’t the only clan that wanted it. It was like a bidding war. It wasn’t really up to them, it was up to your parents in the end and the Zenin’s would do anything to sway them their way. A nice home, the best schools, private drivers. It was all just a ploy to get them to agree to an arranged marriage. 
The soft sound of the radio and the rain made the ambiance of the car relaxing, distracting you from the scenery slowly turning  into landmarks you didn’t recognize, the winding road getting more and more wooded as she drove. 
“Well, now where are we going?” You question, bringing your attention up to her. “You’re not gonna murder me right?” 
Your comment makes her chuckle. “No, I wouldn't dream of it!” The car turned into a long driveway. “I forgot to mention I had to stop at Jujutsu High to pick up Gojo Satoru.”
“A Gojo? I thought you worked for the Zenins?” Your little eyebrows furrow as you settle back into your previous position against the window. Looking at the well manicured landscaping as The car comes to a stop outside a large stair walkway that looks like it leads far into the woods. 
“I work for a few people. I have to drop him off for something.” 
“Something? Like what?”
“Well, that is not my business.” She shrugged. 
Your attention was brought to the stairs, watching as a tall, white haired boy ran down the steps with his hands in his black uniform. He looked smug wearing sunglasses in the rain. His cursed energy grew stronger as he approached the car. Your head turned back to the window as he got closer. Seconds later the car door opened. Watching his reflection in your window as he got in. His cursed energy was strong, stronger than yours. You could see him look over at you through the reflection of the car window. 
“Oh man, it's really pouring isn't it Suzuki-San?” He said, leaning forward to greet her. 
He smelled like expensive cologne and hard candies. Almost like he had melted ones in his pocket. Suzuki turned around to look at him with an expression you have never seen. 
“Hello, Gojo.” She smiled, leaning her arm on the middle console. 
Your head still resting against the car window, watching the interaction. Pre-teen angst stirring around your aura. This isn’t worth missing your favorite show and you have to talk to people you don’t really like in the most uncomfortable kimono to ever exist. Now you have to watch Suzuki swoon over this Gojo guy. You had a good feeling he might be annoying, usually you’re pretty good at reading people and he seemed full of himself. The whole thing makes you want to just jump out of the car. 
He leaned back in his seat as Suzuki started driving. He gave off an interesting energy to say the least, intimidating in a way but you felt a childishness that radiated off of him making you assume he couldn’t be much older than you. Not only that, he was texting someone; the clicking of his phone slightly irritating.  Yeah, you weren’t a fan. He definitely was going to be annoying. 
“You shouldn’t run down stairs with your hands in your pockets.” You stated.
Watching his fuzzy reflection pause, his attention moving to you. A smile grew on his face as he looked at you. All angsty and pretending to be uninterested. Don’t think you're the only one who can feel cursed energy and read people. He felt yours far before he got into the car and by the looks of it, you would be fun to mess with.
“Hm and why is that?” He placed his phone in his lap. What an interesting way to greet a stranger. 
“You really don’t know?” You looked over at him with a scowl, only to be met with an amused smile and sunglasses. 
“Nope.” he shook his head. “You shouldn’t start a conversation so harshly. Maybe try with your name next time.”
Oh, another Naoya? Fun. You thought. The way he spoke was like he was mocking you. So smug like you should be grateful to be in his presence and you couldn’t stand it. “You shouldn’t wear sunglasses inside, it's rude, plus it's raining.” 
His eyebrows shot up in mock surprise. “It is raining, good job kid.” 
“Whatever.” You turned away. Mostly to stop yourself from starting something that would get you in trouble. 
“You know.” he pondered, finger tapping his chin. “If you treat people this way, you won't find a husband.” You felt him lean over to you, hand resting uncomfortably close to your leg but moving away would let him know you were affected by his actions and the more you react the more they keep being annoying. You learned that from Naoya.
“Oh, I don’t want one.” You stated, looking at him. “I-um.”  The second part of your snarky comment dying on the tip of your tongue. The edges of his lips turned up into a cheeky smirk, crystal blue eyes and white eyelashes peaking over the rim of his black sunglasses. In all honesty It made you shut up, his closeness made you lose your edge and Gojo ate it up. He noticed how your posture changed ever so slightly, shifting around nervously as you tried to remember your sarcastic comment. Gojo was right, you would be fun to tease. 
“Go on?” He teased, leaning ever so slightly closer to you. You didn’t answer. Scrunching your nose at him. His close proximity made you blush. Why did that make you nervous? It’s not like he was that handsome. (This is a lie, he is very handsome. Unfortunately.) 
“Satoru.” Suzuki’s soft voice cut in, her head shaking lightly as she looked at the pair of you through her mirror. Her expression was sharp as Gojo made eye contact with her. He then looked back at your flush face before falling back against his seat with a sigh. Suzuki’s looks speak a thousand words but she must have known him well for her to address him like that. You were just grateful she saved you, the blush on your face fading while the sounds of talk radio filled the silence in the car.
Your thoughts brought you to the Zen’in clan meeting. You really didn’t care too much about these things, everyone was always so pretentious, always going on about something you pretended to listen to.  Noaya was the worst, of the younger ones that is. Always bullying everyone, especially the girls. He was so vulgar about it too but It didn’t bother you the way he wanted or at least you didn’t show it. Plus it was too much fun to watch his reactions. Boys like him need to be kicked down a peg or two anyway. A/N:(Or be pegged..hehehe)
“Suzuki-san? Do you think Noaya will be there today?” You question breaking the silence. 
“I’m sure he will, why do you ask?” 
“No reason.” you sigh.
Gojo glanced over at you. “Is that your boyfriend or sumin’?” 
“Ew No.” You shook your head. “He calls me a dog or... other things.. So, I bite him.”
“Ya’ one of those weird kids?” He chuckled.
“No. But if you're going to call someone a dog, don't act surprised when they bite you.” You shrug. He was silent, looking at you over his glasses with amusement— you did have a point.
“You’re kinda proving my point here.”
“If you knew him you would understand, he definitely deserves it.” 
“Mhm.” Gojo nodded, turning back to his phone. It was quiet again before he spoke. 
“Well, he's probably just got a crush on you.” 
“Ugh, I hope not.” You say with disgust. “Plus, I don't think you would say the things he says to someone you like.” 
“Like what?” 
“I’d rather not repeat them.” 
The car parking ended your conversation. You had stopping in a part of town you’ve never seen, It was fairly creepy. No bus stops or open stores, just abandoned stores and warehouses. You heard Gojo let out a small sigh before he unbuckled and opened the door, the sound of the rain filled the car as he got out.
“Where are you going?” you ask. “Why are you getting out here? It's creepy.” 
You had leaned over the middle seat to speak to Gojo, looking up at his tall frame as he stepped out. “Wait? Don’t tell me you actually like me?” He said, you could practically hear the smirk on his lips as he spoke.
“No, I’m just concerned for my own safety.” You said, smiling up at him a teasing glint in your eye. He chuckled, straightening his jacket as he bent down to look at you. Your Seat-Belt stretched as far as it could go in to speak with him. And for the second time since meeting him he makes you blush. His eyes locked with yours as he spoke, his tone no longer filled with its usual teasing nature. 
“That's probably a good thing.” He smiled, swinging the door shut. 
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ddarker-dreams · 4 years
Text
Sweet Talkin’. Yan Dabi x Reader [COMM]
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There’s been an abnormal amount of sirens tonight.
It should be unnerving -- and to an extent it is -- but this isn’t what keeps you awake. Not that, or even the dogs barking outside accompanied with an occasional derogatory yell. With a heavy heart, you can say that you’ve gotten used to all of that noise. No, it’s something different that steals you from the welcoming comfort of a deep slumber. 
The thing that truly keeps you up is the anticipation of what is to come. Or more precisely, who. 
The bright glow of your phone strains your tired eyes, but it’s your best shot at finding entertainment. Squinting at the blinding light, exhaustion seeps into your being despite your best efforts to ward it off. No matter how much caffeine you drink later on in the day, it’s not enough to to thwart your natural inclinations to sleep.
For most, nighttime is a relaxing time of day that’s coveted. It brings a time of solitude, to reflect and rest up for the next day. While you wish you could return to the days where you felt like that, it’s long behind you now. Instead, you evade sleep, in fear of what could occur when you’re in the defenseless state. 
An illusion of control is better than none at all.
“You’re gonna get dark circles under those pretty eyes if you keep staying up this late.” 
A deep voice rumbles from the entrance to your shared room, one that you instantly recognize. Even in your groggy state, your emotions heighten in his presence. Turning off your phone and placing it down, you stretch your arms out, a yawn leaving your lips in the process.  
So he’s back. 
“Yeah, yeah…” you grumble back, caring little for the teasing comment. After feeling around your nightstand, a click resonates, light illuminating your room. Once your eyes adjust, you spot your unwelcome visitor, who makes himself at home. Dabi walks towards you, your bed creaking under his added weight as he sits down. Untying his shoes, he throws them carelessly in the corner.
Sensing your staring, he looks over his shoulder and grins at you. “Awe, you miss me or somethin’? How cute.” 
A groan leaves your lips, and you reach to throw a pillow at him. He easily deflects it with a snicker, working on taking his shirt off next. At least now that he’s back you feel more inclined to sleep, knowing that he can’t sneak up on you. Splatters of dark vermilion catch your attention, mouth curling downwards into a frown. 
If there’s anything you’ve learned in your time with Dabi, it’s that you shouldn’t ask where the blood stains come from. Ignorance is bliss, right? It’s still an unnerving sight, especially since you know it isn’t his. 
The relationship you two share is nothing if not unconventional. His occupation -- if you can even call it that -- has him coming and going at unholy times at night. Sleep is difficult to come by, not knowing when he might make an appearance. It’s what leads you to stay up some nights, a preferable experience to tossing and turning with anxious thoughts plaguing you.
As long as you stay in your designated place, Dabi holds true to his promise of doing you no harm. Thinly veiled threats under the pretense of being your “roommate” lead you to the current day, an awkward routine settling in. For all it’s worth, it could be worse. You’re acutely aware of what Dabi is capable of, having seen the ashes of corpses blurred out in the news. 
Why he’s taken a liken to you is beyond you. It still beats dying, only by a sliver. 
“There are some leftovers in the fridge,” you tap your phone, reading the time. Three in the morning. Great, and you have work tomorrow too. “I think I’ll give sleeping a shot now that you’re back.” 
Dabi raises an eyebrow at this, a fresh shirt without blood stains now on. “You always sleep when I get back. It hurts my feelings. What, am I not good enough company?”  
‘If I’m being honest, not really.’
He grins at how you shiver, lazily crawling over to be by your side. His sudden presence fills your nose with unknown scents, ranging from smoke to burnt leather. Underneath is hints of his cologne, all mixing together to disorient you further. Dabi loves riling you up, testing the limits of what you can handle. 
You take a deep breath, hugging your knees to your chest. As long as you don’t let it get to you, it’ll be fine. He always gets bored eventually, leaving you to do as you please. That’s what you’ll aim for.
“It’s not that. I just have stuff to do tomorrow, and I don’t like being exhausted. It’s my long shift.” 
His trademark grin melts away, furrowing eyebrows and a grimace taking its place. Mentioning your life outside of him is a tricky battle, and you can’t help but regret mentioning it. Being in a sleep deprived state is a major disadvantage in your interactions with him.
“This again? I thought I told you to quit. Rent or whatever won’t be an issue, I’ll handle it.” Dabi scoots closer to you, wrapping an arm around your bare shoulder. His skin feels rough against yours, coarse hands rubbing circles into  you. You bite your lip at the sensation, hair on the back of your neck standing. 
“I... I like my job. Sure, it can be irritating at times, but it gives me something to do during the day. I’d go stir crazy without something concrete to focus on.” The words are heartfelt, unfiltered. When he responds in silence you worry you’ve made a mistake, upsetting him with your defiance.
He huffs against your neck, lifting his head and shooting you a displeased look.  His voice is a low murmur, one that reverberates into the core of your very being. “Always making trouble for me..." 
Dabi’s grip around you tightens, and you gulp thickly. With how casual he speaks to you, it can be easy to forget the major power imbalance. Instead of greeting you with insults, or worse, he lightly flicks your forehead.
You blink, baffled.
“Don’t most people hate their jobs? I figured you’d be jumping at the idea of having more free time, or whatever. So you can focus on other things.” 
It’s not a confession you were expecting, your cheeks flushing at the considerate nature of his words. While it’s true quitting your job is an appealing thought, it creates a semblance of balance within your now chaotic life. Helping you stick to a schedule, in the same way school used to. 
Now feeling confident in expressing yourself, your taut muscles relax into his touch. “I’m too tired to think about it properly, if I’m being honest. I don’t know how you can stay up this late all the time without losing it.” 
Deflecting from the previous topic makes you feel better. If Dabi notices your intentions he doesn’t point them out, allowing you to take control of the conversation without complaint. He must prefer it over when you’d just shake and cry in his presence.
“You get used to it, sweetheart,” he drums his fingers against you, smirking. “I’ll make a night owl outta you yet.” 
Any implications in his words go straight over your head.
“As tempting an offer as that is, I think I’ll pass. ” 
He shrugs at your indifference, removing his arms from your frame. The lack of enveloping warmth causes you to shiver, Dabi searching through his bag. You peak over his shoulder out of curiosity, his scarred hands settling on an object which he pulls out. 
It’s a copy of Animal Crossing, in all of its beautiful glory. You wipe your eyes, unsure if what you’re seeing is reality.
“W-what?” you guffaw before your brain has the chance to stop you, jaw agape and head tilted. Dabi places it on your lap, and returns to his previous position of holding you. There’s clear amusement in his eyes at your stunned state, relishing in your every reaction.
“Did I get the wrong thing? This is that game you wanted, isn’t it?” 
It had to have been a week or so ago. You lamented to him about not being able to afford this, not even realizing he was giving it any attention. To think he remembered, and acted on it for your sake... is a touching sensation. Maybe he is capable of selflessness after all.
The cute box art puts a smile on your face, one that Dabi stares at. 
“I have to say, I’m surprised,” you pick it up, looking at the back with wide eyes. “Did the cashier give you a funny look when you picked this out?” 
‘I really need to start thinking before I speak.’
He shakes his head at your blunt comment, not taking any offense. “I didn’t get it that way.”
‘Oh, well... better not ask more than necessary. There’s no blood on it so at least that’s a good sign.’
Wiggling free from his grip, you rotate your legs over the side of the bed, intent on getting your switch. An opportunity like this must be taken advantage of, and you’ve wanted to play this game for some time now. Dabi must’ve read your mind, and pulls you back to him with little effort before you get the chance. 
“If I remember correctly, you said you were tired just a few minutes ago.” 
He plucks the game from your fingers, and places it on the side furthest from you. What a cruel world this is, to have paradise so close and yet so far. You can’t help the pout that forms at his actions.
“The situation changed, I’m wide awake now.” you explain to an unmoved Dabi, launching over his lap to get your coveted game back. He picks it up, lifting it over your head with a chuckle. So that’s how it’s going to be. 
Defeat settling in, you retreat for now. A sigh leaves your lips, arms crossing over your chest. You should’ve known better, Dabi has made it clear to you that he wants your attention. Looks like you’ll have to wait until after work to get a taste of Animal Crossing. 
There’s a glint of mischievous in his azure eyes, one that you’ve seen more often than you wish. Dabi sighs in mock hurt, placing a hand over his heart. “Not even so much as a thank you for my efforts. That’s cold, babe. Real cold.” 
“I’m sorry, you’re right. Thank you, it means a lot.” 
He shakes his head, clicking his tongue. “That’s not what I was looking for. Try again, sweetheart.” 
A flurry of thoughts fly through your mind, all competing with one another to offer a solution. Does he want money for it? He should know that you’re not capable of producing that amount, or you would’ve bought the game for yourself. Dabi gives you a moment to think, before offering the answer to you.
He puts his pointer finger on your lip, maintaining eye contact while doing so. 
“Oh, t-that.”
“So glad to see that you’re finally catching on.” 
It could be the summer heat winning over your AC, the room suddenly feeling warmer than it did a few moments prior. You look down at your blankets, focusing on anything other than the person in front of you. This level of teasing is nothing new with Dabi, he always manages to fluster you. 
He sits, relaxed, waiting for you to make a move. There aren’t any other options that you can think of, so you give into what he wants. Moving closer to his face, you feel his warm breath fanning against your skin. Your hand twitches, pressing against his chest to offer balance.
Squeezing your eyes closed, you tilt your head, soft lips brushing over his own. All of your movements are hesitant, your entire body feeling like it’s on fire. Heart pounding violently against your chest, you move to pull back. Only to discover his hand on the back of your head is stopping you from doing so.
Dabi slants his lips back over your own, nibbling your bottom lip. You freeze, the unexpected affection leaving you incapable of reacting. It’s when you squeak that he finally loosens his grip, opening his eyes to take in your embarrassed countenance. 
All things considered, it wasn’t an unpleasant experience. 
You cover your burning face with your shaking hands, feeling the warmth emanating off of you. He makes it even worse by chuckling, the low rumble filling you with indignation. There never is hope of catching a break with Dabi. 
“You might be the one with a fire quirk after all,” he leans forward, placing a hand against your hot forehead. “Mm... that look you’re giving me is too much. You have to be doing it on purpose at this point.” 
Fed up with his relentless teasing, you smack his hand away and purse your lips. He props his arms behind his head, letting you glare at him to your heart’s content. From his lack of reaction, you get the feeling he isn’t too intimidated by you. 
“Whatever, I’m going to bed,” you huff, returning to your side and pulling up the blankets. He doesn’t make a move to stop you, and you take the opportunity to lay down on your side. Refusing to look at him, you focus on the wall. 
Dabi pokes your cheek, which you ignore. 
He lets out a long sigh at your antics, joining you underneath the covers. You hear shuffling behind you, and can’t help but wonder what it is that he’s up to. Maybe he’s succumbing to his own exhaustion, and will let you sleep in peace? What a perfect world it’d be if that’s the case.
The thought is entertained for three seconds before you’re pulled against his firm chest from behind, toned arms snaking around your torso and staying there. His body is always so warm. It doesn’t help that you’re already embarrassed from before. Dabi grumbles something incoherent, placing his head in the crook of your neck. 
Accepting the situation for what it is, you stop moving. He reaches over you to turn off the light, and darkness surrounds you once more. All you can hear are your own labored breaths, and rapidly pounding heart. It might be impossible to sleep like this. 
You’ll call out of work for tomorrow. 
“... Dabi?” you whisper, voice soft and barely audible. He grunts in response, nuzzling further into your neck. For the past few months, there’s been a thought that haunts you at every turn. One that you can never find an answer to, and have been too frightened to investigate beyond your own musings.
It’d be easy to play this off as sexual attraction alone, yet a voice in the back of your head says otherwise. That what Dabi feels for you goes beyond that, into a sinister territory that you want desperately to avoid. Why is it he’s patient -- borderline kind -- with you, yet cruel to everyone else? None of it makes logical sense, his actions erratic and seemingly without reason.
Maybe you shouldn’t know. Still, you ask, against your better judgement. 
“Why do you like me so much?” 
You feel how he smiles against the skin of your neck, the sensation stirring up unknown emotions within. He squeezes you against him once, letting out a low hum as he considers your words. While waiting for him to speak, you hold in a breath. 
“Dunno. Just do,” Dabi offers a noncommittal response, one that leaves you greatly unsatisfied. It seems he’s not even aware of it himself, the effect you have on him unlike anything he’s ever experienced. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” 
“... Alright, I won’t.” 
“Good. Now get some sleep, before I ask you to kiss me again.” 
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marvelslut16 · 3 years
Text
Idiots in love
Pairing: William ‘Bill’ Weasley x reader 
Synopsis: (Y/N) has been in love with Bill ever since she met him their first year at Hogwarts. Will she finally tell Bill how she feels, like Mrs. Weasley hopes she will, or will Fleur and Ginny’s assumptions about (Y/N)’s love life get in the way. 
Word count: 2.9k+
Warnings: Angst. Dumb asses pining after each other. Fleur, if she counts lmao. Brief mentions of death. 
A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for months, I wrote it as a self indulgent piece since I can’t date Bill in Hogwarts Mystery and I wasn’t sure if anyone would actually read it. It's cannon divergent. Also, tell me if you want a part 2!
My first fic of the new year! Hopefully I'll be way more consistent and inspired this year. Thank you to everyone reading any of the fics I write, I love you all!
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“Molly, he’s happy with her,” you roll your eyes at the older woman who had become like a mother to you over the years. 
You met her at Kings Cross Station the morning of your first year, she helped you cross the barrier, your parents are muggles who are afraid of anything different. You were in Bill’s year, the two of you becoming fast friends on the train ride. Through your years at Hogwarts you two became inseparable, both becoming Head Girl and Head Boy together. You two always studied together, explored the castle together, went to Hogsmeade together, you did everything together. Well, except one thing, you didn’t fall in love together; you fell for him, and he fell for that foul, loathsome Emily Tyler and now Fleur Delacour.
You spent almost every Christmas Holiday under the burrow’s roof, along with most of your summers. The burrow was your real home, and the Weasley’s were your family. After you and Bill had graduated Molly and Arthur insisted you use their first names, both convinced you and Bill would finally get together. But that didn’t happen, you both went separate ways, barely even owling over the years. He went on to be this fantastic cursebreaker for Gringotts, getting sent all the way to Egypt. And you, you became the astronomy professor at Hogwarts, you thrived in the subject and Professor Sinistra transferred to Uagadou.
“But you’re perfect for him,” Molly nags. You loved the women with your whole heart, but she really needed to learn when to drop matters of the heart. Especially when the topic of discussion was set to arrive soon. 
“Not everything works out how we want it to,” you sigh as you hand her a clean dish to dry, you had wanted to clean the dishes the muggle way. “Especially when it involves one's heart.”
The two of you are waiting for everyone to arrive, Arthur is picking the kids up from the train now that it’s summer holiday. You had apparated to the burrow after the students boarded the train, now officially a part of the Order. Dumbledore and Sirius are dead, but that just means that everyone needs to fight harder. 
“I just want you to be happy,” Molly’s eyes are soft and sad as she looks at you. 
“I am,” you smile through the lie. There’s a pop from the living room, assuming it’s just Charlie you continue. “I don’t need a man Molly, my students make me happy.”
“Mum,” the unmistakable voice of William Weasley calls as he walks towards the kitchen. “I have great news, Fleur and I are engaged! We want to get married this summer!”
You accidentally drop the plate you're washing back into the soapy water, causing some to splash your shirt. For a split second you see Molly’s face fall before she puts on a bright fake smile as she turns to her eldest. You refuse to turn and see him, you thought you had enough time to prepare yourself to see him again, but you didn’t. He refused to see you after he got hurt during the battle of the astronomy tower when he was in the hospital wing and ignored you in the few weeks following.  
“Oh, wow,” Molly tries to come up with a response that won’t upset him. “This quickly?”
“I can’t take the chance, not now,” his mood is hard to read from his voice. He almost seems too defensive when he responds. “Not with everything happening.”
Your heart stops its thumping for a second, you didn’t realize it would hurt this much to see him happy. You want more than anything for him to be happy, but you also know that his mother and sister will never approve of Fleur. And he’ll never be fully happy because of that. But maybe you're wrong, maybe you don’t really know him. Maybe you never did. 
“I can’t believe I signed up for bloody astronomy again,” you can hear Ron complain through the open window before Molly can respond.
“You know you love me,” you holler out the window as Ron and Ginny get closer to the house. They’re the only two at Hogwarts now, they’re growing up so fast. 
“Yeah, yeah professor,” he mutters as he walks through the door before grinning widely at you. 
Even though you had seen Ginny hours ago, the younger girl runs up to you and throws her arms around you. You laugh as she pulls back and makes a face as some of the soap suds transferred to her shirt. 
“You just saw (Y/N),” Ron rolls his eyes at Ginny’s actions.
“Yeah but that’s different,” Ginny defends. “At Hogwarts I can’t talk to her about boys, or eat dinner with her, or ask for Quidditch tips.”
“I’m always up for talking about boys,” you grin down at the red headed girl. You laugh and apologize to Molly as Ginny pulls you from the kitchen and up to her room. 
You don’t glance at Bill, you can’t. You’re too scared that all of the feeling you have bottled up will resurface with just one glance. You miss the way his eyes soften at your interaction with his sister, and how they trail after you as you get pulled past him. You sit with Ginny as she fawns over Harry for close to an hour, interjecting occasionally when she asks for your opinion. This is what you always imagined having a younger sister would feel like. 
“What about you?” she asks with a teasing tone in her voice. 
“What about me?” you laugh lightly as your eyebrows furrow in confusion. 
“You and professor Snape,” she’s smirking. 
“Severus?” you laugh before your face pulls into a disgusted look only Ginny can see. “We’re coworkers. Dare I say friends. And he’s a part of the Order, we have to at least tolerate each other.”
“Mhm,” she sounds unconvinced. “He smiled at you the other day! In the Great Hall, where people could see! He never smiles!”
“Ginny, we’re friends,” you try to get through to the stubborn teen. “Plus he’s known me since I was eleven, that would be gross.”
Before Ginny can respond there’s a knock on the open door, you turn around and see Bill for this first time in years. His red hair still falls to his shoulders, and he still has that fang hanging from his ear. There are scars down his cheek now, those and the fang make him look bad ass. Your heart stutters as your eyes meet his, the heartache that disappeared when you were gossiping with Ginny resurfaces with just one look.
“Dinners ready,” he says before turning and walking back down the stairs. 
Dinner is loads of fun, the two eldest Weasley’s joining the group since there’s a small Order meeting afterwards. Dinner is full of Charlie joking with you, something you're happy about since Ginny wouldn’t be able to bring up Severus again. You ignore the giggles and the French accent that poke holes in your heart as Bill only pays attention to Fleur, who showed up at the Burrow when you were upstairs. 
After dinner you agree to show Ron and Ginny some Quidditch moves you had picked up over the years, borrowing an old broom left behind by one of the other boys. Remus and Tonks appear in the front yard, signaling that the meeting would start momentarily. Ron thanks you as he continues to practice the moves as you fly to the ground. Ginny follows you, wanting to get a drink from the kitchen before it's closed off to the youngest two. 
“Are you going to take his last name, or is he going to take yours?” she teases. 
“Ginny, not now,” you sigh, not sure how to get it through her head that you have no feeling for the potions master without revealing that you’re in love with her oldest brother. You aren’t sure who’s worse, her or Molly. 
“Alright, whatever you say Mrs. Snape,” Ginny wiggles her brows in your direction as you head for the kitchen. 
“Mrs. Snape?” Severus’s monotonous voice comes from behind you two. Ginny’s eyes widen before she takes off running, and a strangled sound leaves your lips.
“Ginevra Molly Weasley, that’s a month of detention next year!” you yell after her. You take a breath before turning to stare into Snape’s obsidian eyes. “Ginny saw you laugh at my stupid joke in the Great Hall a few weaks ago and now she’s convinced you have feelings for me.” Severus raises his eyebrows at you before looking in the direction Ginny ran off in. “She’s just a kid Sev, don’t hold her delusions against her.”
“Weasley’s,” he mutters before heading to the kitchen himself. Dumbledore had told a select few in the Order the plans for Severus to kill him so Draco didn’t have to, and since the Headmaster was already dying nobody was as mad as expected. “Don’t you have feelings for the oldest one?”
“Be quiet!” you hiss, as look to make sure no one heard. He smirks before walking into the room where the meeting is to be held, leaving you standing confused in the hallway.
The meeting is small tonight; Remus, Tonks, Charlie, Molly, Arthur, Sev, yourself, Bill, and Fleur. The rest had prior engagements unfortunately, so it was essentially just family and Severus. 
Molly uses her magic to pour you a glass of tea as you sit beside Sev, the only open seat. You smile a quick thanks before lifting the cup to your lips. The warm liquid soothing your tired throat, students liked to talk over you during the last week of school so your throat was a little raw. 
“Do you want a cookie with that, love?” Snape’s monotonous voice is slightly louder than it normally is. The term of endearment comes as such a shock that you spit out the tea that's in your mouth, landing across the table on Fleur. 
There was no denying that Severus’s question was directed at you, he’s holding the plate full of Molly’s cookies right next to your face. The room goes deathly silent as the seconds pass by. Ginny, who was getting herself some pumpkin juice, drops the glass she was holding, it shatters when it hits the ground. Molly, Arthur, and Charlie abruptly stop their conversation to stare at you and Sev in shock. Remus furrows his eyebrows as he looks between you two, Tonks looks like she's holding back a laugh. A flash of pain seems to cross Bill’s face before it goes blank, and horror crosses Fleur’s when your tea lands on her. 
“I’m so sorry!” you cover your mouth, thankful the liquid wasn’t warm enough to burn. Bill doesn’t even turn to look at his fiancee, just stares at you. 
“Are you alright?” Snape has a small smile only you can see. You aren’t sure how to respond, especially as you stare at the amusement dancing in his onyx eyes. 
“I knew it!” Ginny yells, finally breaking the few seconds of silence, seconds that felt like years. You flick Sev’s leg under the table, and he has the audacity to grin larger.
“Thanks honey,” your eyes narrow slightly as you grab a cookie off the plate, passing it to Bill without looking away from the man in all black. 
The rest of the meeting is awkward, and as soon as it’s over you pull Sev out of his chair and outside. The cool night air cools your burning cheeks and he lets out a laugh that he had been holding in.
“What was that?” you pull at the ends of your hair. 
“We made your precious Weasley jealous,” even though he’s smirking, there’s no change in his inflection. 
“And now they all think we’re together!” your voice is high pitched and squeaky. 
“Good luck with that,” he disapparates before you can respond.
“I hate you!” you yell at the spot where Severus was just standing.
“You and Snape, huh?” Charlie’s voice cuts through the silent night. 
“Not bloody likely,” you roll your eyes, before plopping onto the ground. Charlie joins you as you lay and stare up at the stars. “He heard Ginny saying she thought he liked me, and he knows who I like, so he decided to run with it. He’s actually fun when you break through his cold exterior.”
“You still love Bill,” it isn’t a question. No matter how many times you denied it while you three went to school together, Charlie never believed you. 
“Yeah,” you sigh, turning to look at him. He’s already facing you so you continue, “your mum kept going on about how I should be the one with him this afternoon. She won’t drop it.”
“I love my brother,” Charlie makes sure you keep eye contact with him as he continues. “But he’s being stupid. I agree with mum, you should be the one marrying him.”
“He’s happy without me,” your voice comes out sadder than you thought it would, guard finally down. “We’ve barely talked in years, and he wouldn’t even let me see him after the attack. He doesn’t need me, nor does he want me in his life anymore.”
Charlie just sighs, annoyed that neither you nor Bill could see the truth starring you both in the face. You love each other. Charlie just lies next to you in comforting silence, staring at the night sky until he has to head back to Romania and you off to bed. 
A single tear slips down your cheek as you lay down in the bed that once belonged to Charlie. Ginny enters the room without knocking, and you quickly wipe away the tear. 
“Why didn’t you tell me!” she practically screams. 
“There’s nothing to tell, he was messing with you, Gin,” you look her directly in the eyes so she knows you aren’t lying. 
“What aren’t you telling me?” she sits beside you on the mattress. 
“I’m in love with Bill,” you whisper, finally saying the words out loud. Sure you had agreed with Charlie earlier, but you had never said the five words out loud before. It feels like a weight is lifted off your chest, until a new wave of heartache hits you. “I have been since we were in school, and it hurts Ginny. Fleur, she’s perfect, I couldn’t possibly compete with her.”
“You’re so much better than her, (Y/N),” Ginny grabs your hand, causing you to look up at her. “And he’s a fool if he doesn’t see that.”
“Thanks Gin,” you smile sadly, squeezing her hand before she heads off to her room. 
--
“Zank you,” Fleur’s French accent is the first thing you hear in the morning. Ginny comes up behind you as you stand in the hallway, and puts her hand on your shoulder. Today is the day you forget about all of this foolish childish love you have for Bill. 
Molly watches you closely as you sit down at the breakfast table, Ginny plopping down beside you. As you talk to the young girl about Quidditch over breakfast, a black owl flies through an open window. You roll your eyes as it plops a letter beside you, you give the owl some of your toast before it flies out of the window again. Ginny looks over your shoulder as you open the letter, the rest of the Weasley’s not-so-secretly watch you read it. 
The letter isn’t anything special, just Severus letting you know that you had left a book at Hogwarts. You know full well he’s being his dramatic self, going out of his way to send an owl, just so he can say he was right. He even added a p.s, asking if Bill had gotten jealous yet. You laugh at the ridiculous question, causing Bill to excuse himself and walk outside. Fleur doesn’t move from her seat, causing you and Ginny to make a face at each other.
A few moments pass before you decide to follow your old best friend against your better judgment, but someone should check on him. He’s in the backyard pacing like a madman, running his hands through his long hair and pulling on the tips. 
“Bill?” you ask softly. He whips around and looks at you, once again his face is hard to read. Your eyes, however, soften as soon as they see what Fenrier Greyback did to him. “What’s wrong?”
“You and Snape?” his voice is hard and cold. “He hated us growing up, and you just pretended that never happened and you're with him? He hated you!”
“It’s none of your business William!” your voice is high pitched, you’re angry. He doesn’t talk to you in ages and now all of a sudden he thinks it’s okay to judge your relationships. “We were annoying kids back then, of course he hated us.”
“You could do better than him!” his anger seems to rise at the use of his full first name. 
“We’re just friends!” your voice is shrill, and you're sure everyone inside can hear you two clearly. “Not that it’s any of your business anyway! Severus was letting me know I forgot some of my belongings at Hogwarts. You have no right to judge who I choose to spend my time with and who I befriend, not when you haven’t tried to talk to me in years Bill!”
With that you turn and head away from the burrow, not wanting to face anyone right now. Especially any of the Weasley's, and most of all, Molly. Bill calls your name as you walk away from him, but you don’t turn around. You can’t. William Weasley has broken your heart multiple times since you met him, and you aren’t about to give him the satisfaction of watching himself break your heart all over again.
Part 2
Permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen​ @rexorangecouny @mrs-malfoy-always​
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redrobin-detective · 3 years
Text
Just one single glimpse of relief
TW: OC death, death themes
“Hey,” Sydnee looked up at the sound of the voice. It was familiar, safe, and it stopped her tears for a moment. She can’t remember where she was or what she’d been doing. All she knew was that she was scared and upset and didn’t know what to do. It felt like she’d been crying forever when the voice appeared. “Hey there, it’s Phantom. Can I come closer?”
Sydnee gasped as the town hero, Phantom, approached her slowly. Syd was a bit of a nerd and she couldn’t get enough of those superhero movies. She always tuned in to Phantom’s fights on TV; he was as close as she’d get to a real life Superman or Captain Marvel. She’d never seen him up close before though. He was younger than he appeared on TV, not more than his early teens. Sydnee, almost 24, was hit by a wave of mortification over how they’d described the hunky, we-thought-he-was-older kid on Margarita Night. This day just got better and better, not that she remembered it.
“How are you doing?” Phantom asked quietly, floating near her but not getting too close. He was watching her warily but not unkindly. She saw how some folks treated him, he was probably worried she’d throw a shoe at him. “What’s your name?”
“Sydnee, with an extra e not a y. Uh Tanner, Sydnee Tanner,” she mumbled. Ugh why were words so hard. Her head felt fuzzy and very far away, she thinks she was going to start panicking again. What was she even so upset about? “I don’t know what’s going on. Where are we and what happened. I don’t- I don’t remember anything.”
“It’s okay,” he said soothingly, floating a little closer. The soft glow he emitted brightened up the dark place they were in. Was she in a collapsed tunnel? What had she been doing here? She’d never been claustrophobic but the debris and rubble of the place seemed to close in on her. “Hey, hey, just look at me.” She turned and met his kind eyes, soft and easy. “We’ll walk through it together. What is the last thing you remember?”
“I was late to work,” Syd said, the memory popping up before her. “I um work at the Donut Delights bakery in that strip mall next to the middle school. My cats had knocked over some of my houseplants in the night so I had to clean them up and was running behind. I open the store on Wednesdays - oh it’s Wednesday! - so I knew I’d be in trouble. But I made it, just barely. I was starting up the ovens when.” Syd furrowed her brow and took in the hero before her. The one who was almost never seen outside a fight. “There was a ghost attack, wasn’t there?”
“Welcome to Amity Park,” Phantom said grimly. “I’ve been here a couple times; the jalapeno bacon topped donuts are my favorite. My mom and sister buy them sometimes if they want to bribe me into doing something.”
“You weirdo, only crazy people eat that weird flavor,” Sydnee chuckled. “You have a family?”
“Of course, we all have a family out there somewhere. What about you?” He asked gently. There was something about the soft way he was talking to her, the way his eyes flickered around the dark like he was looking for something. He had news he didn’t want to tell her and she wasn’t ready to hear it. Not yet. Just a few more minutes of denial before she faced the revelation she couldn’t bear to touch yet.
“Yeah, mom and dad and two younger sibs. Folks divorced forever ago, I barely remember them actually being together. Mom is is living it up in Dubai working as a pastry chef in one of their fancy hotels. Dad’s an auto-mechanic down on Maple street, Duke’s Car Services. Pretty sure you got tossed through the window a year ago.”
“I’ve been tossed through many windows but I know the place you’re talking about. So a big family, any friends? Boyfriends? Girlfriends?”
“I have a boyfriend,” she continued on hastily, taking the distraction for what it was. “I like him, a lot and we’ve been dating since high school. Everyone says I should marry him and we’ve talked about it, casually, but I’ve never dated anyone else and wonder if I should see other people first. You know, test the waters before I settle down with my high school sweetheart like my folks did and look how they turned out.”
“Mhmm,” Phantom hummed nodding, encouraging her to continue.
“DeShawn is great though, he’s very supportive and sweet in his own kind of absentminded way. He’s got epilepsy real bad though, I have to drive him everywhere since he’s always at risk of a seizure. Annoying sometimes but its nice, you can learn a lot about a person from a conversation while you’re alone together.”
“Very true, I’m learning a lot now,” Phantom smiled. “What about your siblings?”
“I have a brother and a sister, Kennedy is finishing his sophomore year of college and Janelle will be a senior in high school. She was a surprise baby, one last attempt of my parents to reconcile before the big D. It didn’t help but I got a great sister out of it, she’s a real firecracker.”
“Janelle,” Phantom’s eyes lit up. “She’s the one always dying her hair. I see her in the hallways of Casper, she’s hard to miss. I think she draws too, she won an art award I think.”
“Yeah!” Sydnee said enthusiastically, she reached out and grabbed ahold of Phantom’s arm. It was cold but solid. It reminded her that she really couldn’t feel anything, nothing but him. “Yeah, I swear her hair is a new color every time I see her. It’s a dark purple now, it looks pretty good on her. She was a peachy orange for picture day last year. Mom called her up screaming when she saw the photos.”
“I thought it looked cool,” Phantom grinned, “not that I was there for picture day. Ghost attack, you know. My mom was upset with me too.” They laughed lightly for a minute before it gently petered off leaving them alone in the dark. Sydnee didn’t have any feeling in her toes, in any part of her. She felt light and disconnected and all over out of sorts. She was pretty sure she knew what had happened but she couldn’t face it yet. But talking to Phantom, it seemed a little easier.
“I remember the attack now,” Sydnee stated quietly. “It was a big ghost bear only it was the size of a pickup truck. It rammed into the store there was chaos and screaming. It was so loud, the screaming of the customers, the bear, building coming down on top of us...” her lips wobbled. “We’re still in the store, aren’t we? I haven’t wanted to turn around because... because I know my body is buried underneath the concrete back there.”
“Yeah,” Phantom breathed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get here in time. Most everyone in the area got out but you and a few others in the store got trapped under the rubble. Mrs. McDaniels who lived on Eustis street and was the first woman in her family to go to college plus Eddie Drake who came down from Chicago to check out the ghost stuff with their boyfriend and was a tattoo artist.”
“Did you talk to them too?” She questioned in surprise.
“Briefly, Mrs. McDaniels didn’t stay long, just long enough to tell me, and I quote, “stop wasting time on her dead ass and get to the others.” She already passed on. Eddie, they didn’t take it well. We talked for a while and I think they need a little more time to accept it, see their loved ones first. I warned them that the longer they delay death, the harder it is and the more you lose yourself. You’re the last, all the way in the back of the store. When you’re ready, I’m going to bring your body out.”
“Thank you,” she whispered before breaking out into hysterical laughter. “God I bet I’m a wreck, I think I put my shirt on inside out I was in such a rush this morning,” she sniffled. “What do I do now, as a ghost? I don’t have to, like, attack people, do I?”
“No,” Phantom sighed. “Most ghosts are just normal people, no one else but other ghosts will see you and you’re not going to be strong enough to interact with the real world for a long, long time. You can stick around a bit if you want, watch over your family but it’s like I told Eddie, you forget things pretty quick. Or you can move on, that part I can’t help you with but I’ve helped a lot of others go that route and I’m told it’s easy.”
“Easy, then why haven’t you?” She questioned angrily, the full weight of the situation crashing over her. She shoved him and he floated back passively. “I’m a freaking ghost and you’re here talking to me like you’re my therapist or something. Who’s gonna take DeShawn to his appointments? Or praise my sister’s creative messes? Or badger Ken into picking major? My life is over and you think you can float there and lecture me about it being easy to move on!”
“I didn’t mean it that way,” Phantom soothed, scratching at the back of his neck. “I’m so sorry Sydnee, I wish I could turn back the clock an hour, two hours, and prevent this from happening but I can’t. I’ve tried to mess with time and it doesn’t end well for anyone. I just want, I just want what’s best for you now. You can stay or you can go but I want you to make the decision that you feel most comfortable with. That’s all I can do for you.”
“I think I’d be sad,” she said, crying again, “being able to see everyone but not talk to them, to watch them cry over me. I don’t want to forget them either.” Phantom watched her, easily and earnestly. “What made you choose to stay? Why didn’t you go?”
“I’m a little complicated but I can tell you, when I’ve done all I need to here, I’m not hanging around a second longer than I have to. Being a ghost has it’s perks but it’s also, it’s being stuck in a place you longer fit, watching the world go on without you.”
“Okay,” Syd hiccupped. “Okay, yeah okay.”
“Okay,” Phantom nodded. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No, please don’t,” she grabbed his hands again. “Please I don’t, I know I died alone but I don’t want to do... this alone. Please stay, ugh, calling you Phantom is weird sorry.”
“I don’t know if it’s any less weird but you can call me Danny,” Phantom, Danny, laughed. It was an ordinary name for a superhero but it fit. There was a special thrill in knowing the ghost boy’s name but it’s not like she was going to be around to tell anyone. It was scary, to think of not existing but also sort of comforting, like a long nap with nothing pressing to get up for.
“Can you tell them that I love them, in my place? I know it’s a lot and I’m sure you’re super busy saving the town and everything-”
"It’s not a problem. I’m sure they know but I’ll be happy to pass on the message,” he smiled and it made him look so young. For a second she was struck by how sad it was that she was relying on a kid a decade younger than her for support. But he was here and he was kind and he was what she needed right now. Maybe one day, he’d have his own person talking him through this last step. 
“Okay, Danny, thanks really. For talking, for staying. I’m scared but I, I think I’m ready.” She closed her eyes and squeezed his hands tightly. “Do you, will it hurt?”
“No,” he said, his voice warm despite his inherent chill. “No, Sydnee. No, the hurting is all over now. All you have left ahead of you is peace. Thank you for all that did, you’ll be missed.”
“I’ll see you on the other side. Goodbye.” The world faded to a pinprick, consumed by light. The last thing she saw before she went into it was a stranger’s smile. 
XxX
“Here’s the last,” Phantom said solemnly, delicately setting a broken body he’d carried out of the dilapidated building and on the sidewalk next to the others. “This is Sydnee Tanner, she was the only employee in the store at the time. She has cats at home who will need taking care of. Her dad works at Duke’s Car Services along with siblings and a boyfriend.”
“Don’t know how you know all that but thanks for getting these folks out,” Sheriff Newton sighed. “Damn shame. Keep up the good work kid, we’ll save the next ones for sure. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some rather unhappy news to break to several people.”
“Do you mind if I tag along? I have a few messages I need to pass on.”
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nim-lock · 3 years
Text
Art Career Tips, 2021 Edition
Here’s an edited version of my 2019 answered ask, because... this feels relevant. 
It is a problem of capitalism that folks equate their income as a judgement of their value as people; and let me preface. You are worth so much. You have inherent value in this world. Your income is not a judgement on who you are (plenty of billionaires are actively making the world worse). LARPing self-confidence will go a long way to helping you get paid more for your work, because clients will believe that you know what you are doing, and are a professional. 
& real quick—my own background is that I’ve been living off my art since 2018. I went to art school (Pratt Institute). I work in a publishing/educational materials sphere, and a quarter of my income is my shop. Not all of this information may apply to you, so it is up to you to look through everything with a critical eye, and spot pick what is relevant. 
So there are multiple ways of getting income as an artist; 
Working freelance or full-time on projects
Selling your stuff on a shop
Licensing (charging other companies to use your designs)
This post primarily covers the freelance part; if you’re interested in the other bits there is absolutely info out there on the internet. 
IF you are just starting (skip to next section if not applicable) dream big, draw often (practice helps you get better/more efficient), do your best to take "a bad piece” lightly. You’re gonna RNG this shit. At some point your rate of “good” works will get higher. Watch tutorial videos & read books. A base understanding of “the rules”; anatomy, perspective, composition, color helps you know what the rules are to break them. This adds sophistication to your work. One way you can learn this stuff is by doing “studies”—you’re picking apart things from life, or things other people have done, to see what works, and how it works. 
Trying to turn your interests into a viable career means that you are now a SMALL BUSINESS; it really helps to learn some basic marketing, graphic design, figure out how to write polite customer service emails; etc. You can learn some of this by looking it up, or taking skillshare (not sponsored) classes by qualified folks. Eventually some people may get agents to take care of this for them—however, I do recommend y’all get a basic understanding of what it takes to do it on your own, just so you can know if your agent is doing a good job. 
Making sure your portfolio fits the work you want to get
Here is a beginner portfolio post. 
Research the field you’d like to get into. The amount people work, the time commitment, the process of making the thing, the companies & people who work for them. 
Create work that could fit in to the industry you’re breaking into. For example, if you want to do book cover illustration, you draw a bunch of mockup book covers, that can either be stuff you make up, or redesigns of existing books. If you’re not 100% sure what sort of work is needed for the industry, loop back into the portfolios of artists in a similar line of work as whatever you’re interested in, and analyze the things they have in common. If something looks to be a common project (like a sequence of action images for storyboard artists), then it’s probably something useful for the job. 
CLIENTS HIRE BASED ON HOW WELL THEY THINK YOUR WORK FITS WHAT THEY WANT. If they’re hiring for picture books, they’re gonna want to see picture book art in your portfolio, otherwise they may not want to risk hiring you. Doesn’t have to be 100% the project, but stuff similar enough. If you aren’t hired, it doesn’t mean your work is bad, it just wasn’t the right fit for that specific client. 
If you have many interests, make a different section of your portfolio for each!
Making sure you’re relevant 
Have a social media that’s a little more public-facing, and follow people in the career field you’re interested in. Fellow artists, art directors, editors, social media managers; whoever. Post on your own schedule. 
Interact with their posts every so often, in a non-creepy way. 
If you’ve made any contacts, great! Email these artists, art directors, editors, former professors, etc occasional updates on your work to stay in touch AND make sure that they think about you every so often.
Show up to general art events every once in a while! If you keep showing up to ones in your area (when... not dying from a sneeze is a thing), folks will eventually start to remember you. 
Industry events & conferences can be pricey, so attend/save up for what makes sense for you. Industry meetups are important for networking in person! In addition to meeting people with hiring power, you also connect with your peers in the community. Always bring a portfolio & hand out business cards like candy. 
Active job hunting
Apply to job postings online.
If interested in working with specific people at specific companies, you could send an email “I’d love to work with you, here’s my portfolio/relevant experience”, even if they aren’t actively looking for new hires. Be concise, and include a link to your work AND attached images so the person reading the email can get a quick preview before clicking for more. 
Twitter job postings can be pretty underpaid! Get a copy of the Graphic Artists’ Guild Handbook Pricing & Ethical Guidelines to know your rate. I once had a twitter post job listing email me back saying that other illustrators were charging less, and I quote, “primarily because they’re less experienced and looking for their first commission”. This was not okay! For reference, this was a 64-illustration book. The industry rate of a children’s book (~36 pages) is $10k+, and this company’s budget was apparently $1k. For all of it. 
Congrats you got a job! Now what?
Ask for like, 10% more than they initially offer and see if they say yes. If they do, great! If not, and the price is still OK, great! Often company budgets are slightly higher than they first tell you, and if you get this extra secret money, all the better for you. 
Make sure you sign a contract and the terms aren’t terrible (re: GO GET THE  Graphic Artists’ Guild Handbook Pricing & Ethical Guidelines) 
Be pleasant and easy to work with (Think ‘do no harm but take no shit’)
Communicate with them as much as needed! If something’s going to be late, tell them as soon as you know so they aren’t left wondering or worse, reaching out to ask what’s up. 
And if all goes well, they’ll contact you about more jobs down the line, or refer you to other folks who may need an artist, etc. 
Quick note about online shops/licensing and why they’re so good
It’s work that you do once, that you continuously make money off of. Different products do well in different situations (conventions vs. online, and then further, based on how you market/the specific groups you are marketing to), so products that may not do well initially may get a surge later on. 
Start with things that have low minimum order quantity and are relatively cheap to produce, like prints and stickers. 
If you are not breaking even, go back to some of the earlier portions of this and think about how you could tweak things as a small business. Ease of access is also very important with this; for example, if you only take orders through direct messages, that immediately shuts off all customers who don’t like talking to strangers. 
Quick resource that you could look through; it’s the spreadsheet of project organizing that I made a while back 
Licensing is when people pay you for the right to use your work on stuff they need to make, like textbooks or greeting cards. This is generally work you’ve already made that they are paying the right to use for a specified time or limited run of products. This is great because you’ve already done the work. I am not the expert on this. Go find someone else’s info.
“I am not physically capable of working much”/ “I need to pay the bills”
Guess who got a hand injury Sept 2020 that messed me up that entire month! I had a couple jobs going at the time that I was terrified of losing, but they were quite understanding when I told them I needed to heal. So:  Express your needs as early as you know you need them. Also do lots of stretches and rest your hands whenever you feel anything off; this will save your health later. Like, the potential of a couple months of no income was preferable over losing use of my hands for the rest of my life.
This continues to apply if you have any other life situation. Ask for extra time. Ask for clarification. If you tell people ahead of time, folks are often quite understanding. Know how much you are capable of working and do your best not to overdo it. (I am.. bad at this)
Do what MAKES SENSE for your situation. If doing art currently earns you less money than organizing spreadsheets, then do that for now, and whenever you have the energy, break down some of the tips above into actionable tiny chunks, and slowly work at em. 
The original ask I got in 2019 mentioned ‘knowing you’re not good enough yet’. Most artists experience imposter syndrome & self-doubt—the important thing is to do your best, and if anything, attempt to channel the confidence of a mediocre white man. If he can apply to this job/charge hella money for Not Much, then so can you! 
Check out this Art Director tumblr for more advice!
Danichuatico’s Literary Agent guide
Kikidoodle’s Shop Shipping Tutorial
Best of luck!
Once again disclaimer this post is just the ramblings of a man procrastinating on other things that need to be done. I’ve Long Posted my own post so that it turns into mush in my brain if I try to read it, but I wrote this so I should know this content. If you got down here, congrats. Here’s a shrimp drawing.
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Yee Ha. 
My reference post tag My tip jar
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css1992 · 3 years
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Guilty Pleasure
[Porn AU]
Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.
All the warnings listed on Part I apply. 
Read on AO3
Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V /  Part VI /  Part VII /  Part VIII  / Part IX / Part X /  Part XI / Epilogue
-x-
Almost three months into his new life, Peter was finally able to establish a routine that worked for him. He woke up around nine in the morning, tried to get some sort of exercise done, usually yoga or a jog around the block, then he had breakfast by himself, because both Ned and MJ had class or work before he was even up. After that, he made sure to post something on Just4fans, so people could see it throughout the day, and answered private messages and comments from the night before. Lastly, he headed to his newly created Twitter account to promote the new content and to interact with people there as well – it was a great way to get new subscribers.
That usually took up most of his morning, then he went downstairs to Ned and MJ’s apartment for lunch. He usually ate with at least one of them, except for Mondays and Wednesdays, when neither was home, but even then he ate at their place since he didn’t own any kitchen appliances yet – it was on the priority list, but not that high up, he liked having an excuse to visit his friends every day.
Later, he headed back upstairs and, depending on the day, he would take new pictures and videos or edit the ones he took the day before. Finally, at night, he posted more content on his Just4fans and chatted with his subscribers until it was time for bed.
In the last week of April, on one of his morning jogs, he noticed that just a few blocks away from his building there was a charity called the Bright Future Foundation. He thought the name sounded familiar, but try as he may, he couldn’t remember where he had heard of them. It was only after running past it a few times that it clicked – Mr. Harrington, his science teacher, told Peter to look it up.
The Bright Future Foundation helped kids who aged out of foster care get their lives together. They offered support in the form of scholarships and grants, academic and personal mentoring, and help with internships and employment readiness skills. That was what their website said, as Peter vaguely remembered from his high school years, when he still planned on going to college.
He went inside one day, not really sure why, and when the front desk lady asked how she could help him he just stood there for a few minutes, silent and nervous. She asked if he wanted to learn about their programs, but he shook his head, sticking his hands in his pockets. The woman waited patiently, a motherly smile on her face, until Peter asked if they needed any help.
And that was how volunteering at BFF became a part of his new routine – every Thursday from nine to five, starting in the first week of May. Since it was just a few blocks away from his place, he could walk there instead of taking the subway.
He liked his new routine, it was tiring but it didn’t leave a lot of time for overthinking or ruminating on the past. He never felt lonely because Ned and MJ were always around and he actually made a few friends among his subscribers, which was nice.
For the first time in a while, Peter was feeling happy. And it wasn’t an elaborate, fragile sort of happiness, where things needed to be in perfect place for the feeling to be felt, no. It was the simplest kind of happiness: he had friends, a job, a place to crash and everything was fine. Nothing was perfect, but it was fine.
A few days after he sent Tony the lingerie pictures, he decided to send him the video. He was a little insecure about it, it was 13 minutes long after editing and Peter had really lost it for a minute there, one could clearly tell. He was gone for most of the video, a moaning mess, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, begging for something – someone – that wasn’t even there. It either looked ridiculous or fucking hot depending on the person watching, and even though he was pretty sure Tony would not think it was ridiculous, he still worried just a little, but he sent it anyway. It was still early in the day when he did, some time around noon, and he didn’t expect him to answer any time soon, so went on with his day.
Tony messaged him around 2AM, as usual, but there was no text, just three videos in the chat. In the first one, it looked like he was wearing a suit, he could see the dress pants pulled down and the white shirt pulled up as Tony jacked off for thirty seconds before he came all over his hand. It looked like he was in a bathroom stall, sitting on a toilet, and Peter bit his lower lip, wondering if he was at work when the video was taken.
The second video was similar to the first, but it looked like he was in a garage or something like that – probably the workshop he always talked about –, Peter could see a black shirt bunched up around his waist and sweatpants around his thighs.
Last but not least there was a video of him completely naked, lying in bed, and the video was shot from Tony’s point of view, like he was holding his cell phone close to his face, looking down, instead of propping it up in front of him like he usually did.
They were all incredible and delicious and got Peter rock hard in a second. The boy got comfortable on the bed, lay on his back, took off his pajama bottoms and sighed when his cock sprung free, shivering a little when the chilly night air touched his heated skin. He planted his feet on the mattress and spread his legs, but didn’t do more than that yet.
“That good?” He messaged Tony, cheekily, and the older man started typing right away.
“This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me in my whole entire life and I’m 48, so yeah. That good.”
Hm, forty-eight. So Peter wasn’t wrong in his assumption. He bit his lower lip, a rush of excitement running through his veins. Tony was so much older, almost thirty years his senior. Peter supposed he must be really experienced. He wondered if he usually hooked up with younger men or if in real life he only dated women – it wouldn’t be a shock – but most of all, he wondered what he looked like. Maybe he dyed his hair, but if he didn’t, it was probably mostly gray and fuck Peter if he didn’t have a thing for that.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about it. You broke me. I was in the middle of a meeting when you sent that video, I had to excuse myself to go to the bathroom to watch it. What have you done to me, witch?” Peter wanted to laugh, but it got stuck in the back of his throat with a moan when he slid a hand to his lower abdomen and his cock stood to attention.
“I don’t know about that, but your videos sure got me horny as fuck.” He rolled his hips a little, humping the air, and finally gave in to himself, holding his cock in one hand and the cellphone in the other.
“Is that so?” He could almost hear his voice through the phone – soft, but powerful. He always imagined Tony would sound like that if they ever talked face to face.
“Yes, daddy” And that would always be his default answer to anything he might ask with that voice. He closed his eyes for a second, quickening the pace of his strokes just a little, when his phone beeped again.
“Are you touching yourself right now?”
“Yes, daddy” Peter shivered, imagining Tony’s reaction to that revelation.
“Can I hear you, baby boy?”
He didn’t even hesitate, he started recording a voice message and moaned into the phone, thrusting his hips against his fist as he quietly begged for Tony’s cock, his fingers, his mouth, anything, he just wanted the man to be there taking care of him, making him cum, that was all he wanted, and he wanted it so badly.
He came in just a few seconds and hit send on the voice message before he could overthink it. As he lay there, breathless, staring at the ceiling and trying to gather his strength, he fantasized about Tony listening to it. He smiled to himself, like an idiot, then his cellphone beeped, bringing him back to reality.
“You’re gonna drive me mad, you know that? I’m actually going insane and it’s all your fault. Also, my dick is gonna fall off and that’s on you, too.” Peter had the presence of mind to laugh at the message, but it took him a few seconds to gather enough energy to write back to him.
“That’s a serious accusation, Tony, I’m gonna need all the evidence I can get, so every time you touch yourself thinking of me, make sure to send me proof, ok?”
“Oh, you don’t know what you just got yourself into.” Again, Peter could only laugh, because judging by the amount of videos Tony sent him that day, he really was in for a treat.
Days later, on Friday, Peter got up early to go for his usual jog around the block. He was a little tired from the day before, still adjusting to his new routine at BFF – it was his third week there and they were starting to realize that Peter was a quick learner and very eager to help, so they took advantage of that, which was fine with him, he was thrilled to be able to help somehow.
So after a quick, half-assed jog around the block, he went back home, showered and decided to take the rest of the pictures Tony asked for. The man was still going nuts over the video, he wouldn’t stop talking about it and every day there was a video of him finishing himself off in their chat and Peter could hear his own voice in the background, screaming Tony’s name.
It was both embarrassing as fuck and hot as hell, so the younger man also spent a lot of those last few days in the shower trying to cool down, but Tony was not making it easier.
As much fun as that was, he was curious to see how Tony would react to the new pictures. He realized that would be the first time the older man would see him with clothes on, which sounded ridiculous, but it was true. He didn’t have many pictures on Instagram, but most of them were selfies and there were just a few where it was possible to see maybe a hint of a shirt, but that was it.
So he took the outfit he and MJ picked out and winced, remembering how much it cost, but at least he picked out clothes he might wear some day – if he had a meeting with the queen of England, for example. He put on the light gray suit by Hugo Boss, with a pink shirt with big, white dots by Levi’s Vintage underneath, black dress shoes by Brunello Cucinelli and a Gucci watch he was able to find on sale for half the original price. The whole outfit was worth around five thousand dollars, and was definitely the most money he had ever spent on – well, anything.
He checked himself in the mirror and snorted a little, he sure looked like a spoiled brat, which was probably what Tony meant by “expensive and beautiful”, so that was fine. He styled his hair so it looked effortlessly tousled, but not too much, and set his camera to take the pictures by the living room window.
He took a few pictures on the windowsill, some other leaning against the glass with his hands in his pockets, a few others looking out the window. He posed on his armchair, too, which was the only piece of furniture he had in his living room at the moment and he wished he had a decent dining table so he could pose like he was on a date with the camera, but he supposed those would do.
Once he was satisfied with what he got, he took off the clothes, put them away and went downstairs to have lunch with Ned and MJ. For the first time since he moved in with them, they both had Friday afternoon off, so they spent it together, eating junk food, watching bad TV series and playing really old tabletop games Ned had brought with him when he moved from his parents’ house.  
In between a game of Monopoly and Scrabble, Peter pulled his phone out to check his messages, and was surprised to find one from Tony, sent just a few minutes earlier. He checked the time and noticed he must still be at work, so he opened it, assuming it couldn’t be anything too sexual.
“Hey, are you feeling better today? Just checking in.”
Peter frowned for a second, but a quick look at their earlier messages reminded him that he was feeling a little under the weather the day before and he’d told Tony that before he went to bed.
“Hi, Tony! I’m all better now, thanks for asking. I guess it was just allergies or something.”
He didn’t expect Tony to answer right away, but as soon as his message was sent, he started typing.  
“That’s good to hear, but you need to be a little more careful with your health, kitten. Just yesterday you said you had an apple for lunch. At 4PM.”
“You’re one to talk.” Peter snorted. They always berated each other for poor eating habits. Peter was a 20 year-old bachelor living by himself and sharing meals with his equally young and dumb friends, so pizza was on the menu more often than not; Tony was a forty-eight year-old businessman with too little time to care. “Did you even eat today?”
“Don’t try to turn this around, this isn’t about me.” Peter rolled his eyes and smiled to himself. “Did you do anything fun today?”
“I took some pictures for you, it was quite fun.” He knew the mention of new pictures would get him interested in a minute.
“Don’t play with my heart, kid. When can I see them?”
“I don’t know...” He teased just a little, because he knew Tony wasn’t above begging and it was fun to watch.
“Don’t be mean to daddy, come on. He’s always so good to you.” Peter smiled, because, yeah. He was.
“I’ll send them tonight, I promise.” He decided, since they would have more time to talk then, if he sent the pictures earlier, Tony would still be at work and Peter would still be at his friends’.
“Good boy.”
“You know I am.”
“What are you smiling about? Who are you talking to?” Ned looked suspiciously at him, so he quickly put the phone down and shook his head with a nervous smile.
“Just a subscriber with a bad one-liner.”
MJ looked at him like she knew a secret, but Ned just shrugged and finished setting up the game.  They ended up calling it a draw and ordering pizza afterwards, but Peter went back home early because both Ned and MJ had work the next morning.
Once he got upstairs, he went to edit Tony’s pictures and since it was still a little early to send them, he decided to check his twitter DMs. He didn’t read them very often, he already had his plate full with JustForFans, but every once in a while he checked them and answered as many as he could. Most of the messages were dick pics anyway, he just ignored those. Some others were people being nosy and asking way too personal questions, or worse, asking about Beck. He learned how to talk his way around those, but one message in particular stood out and really got to him.  
“I’m so glad you’re doing okay, honey! The way Beck is with his new boy now makes me wonder if he ever even loved you. He sure moved on quickly. You’re better off without him anyway, I always liked you better.”
That sort of comment wasn’t exactly unusual, but that second part caught him a little off guard. Makes me wonder if he ever even loved you. It just – why would she say that?  The way Beck is with his new boy. What way, exactly? What could he possibly be doing that made that person assume Beck never even loved him? People thought they were perfect together, they said it all the time, so much so that Peter himself was almost convinced of it for most of their relationship, so why in the hell would anyone think he loved this other guy more? To the point of assuming he didn’t even love Peter in the first place?
He was a masochist, he decided, as he opened Instagram. And not even the good kind of masochist, because there wasn’t any pleasure involved in what he was about to do, just pain. He unblocked Beck’s profiled and fucking looked. He didn’t know what he expected to find, but just looking at the first picture was enough to make him realize it was a terrible fucking idea. It was a black and white picture of him and the new guy cuddling in bed, kissing with soft smiles on their faces, captioned: “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”
Peter closed the app quickly, he didn’t need to see that. It meant nothing.
That picture meant nothing. That caption meant nothing. Because Beck was a fucking liar, a fucking actor, a fucking illusionist, a fucking – artist. He painted beautiful pictures, he weaved beautiful words, but none of that meant anything. Because it never meant anything when it was Peter in his arms, so why would–
Fuck, he should be over him, so fucking over him. But he really wasn’t, he would go back to that toxic environment if Beck snapped his fingers and that was scary to know. It was fucking terrifying to realize he was one text away from crawling back to him, even after all the humiliation, even after Beck just fucking up and left him with nothing – nothing –  he would still go right back to his arms. He still wanted to go right back to his arms.
It made him feel pathetic and weak because he knew that what they had was toxic and abusive. And he had known that for a while, way before they split up. Deep in his soul, he knew he was living a nightmare, day after day, over and over again, but he couldn’t fucking leave. He thought Beck was all he had. He promised him forever. He promised he would always be there for him. He was all Peter had in life, and he had lost so fucking much over the years, he couldn’t afford to lose anybody else.
But he did, didn’t he? He lost Beck. He was in someone else’s arms right that second, professing his undying, fake love.
Peter took a deep breath and held it a few seconds, then exhaled slowly.
He didn’t lose anything, he was set free. He was free and he had a record to break – it had been three days since he last cried about that asshole and he didn’t plan to ruin it.
He closed Instagram and went to his Just4Fans. He posted a few pictures from a phoshoot he did earlier that week that made him feel sexy and confident, which was the opposite of how he felt at that moment, but he was going to fake it until he made it.
In a few minutes, he got lots of comments and private messages with compliments, but somehow none of them was enough to fill the empty spot Beck left when he dumped him.
Well, none except for one.
“Were you planning on giving an old man a heart attack today? ‘Cause that’s how you give an old man a heart attack.” The silly message got a smile out of him, and that was a lot considering how broken he felt.
“Lol. It wasn’t in my plans, no, but now I’m worried. Is the old man okay?” He joked, and immediately got an answer in his inbox.
“He’s waiting for you to keep your promise. Says he refuses to die before he sees some pictures of you? Do you happen to know anything about that?” Peter chuckled.
“Oh, yeah, I think I know what he’s talking about. Hold on a sec.”
He selected his ten favorite pictures with the date outfit and sent them to Tony, feeling butterflies in his stomach for reasons he couldn’t explain. He lay in bed for several minutes, staring at his phone, waiting for an answer, but the older man didn’t say anything, even though Peter could see he was still online. He started to get a little anxious, worried that he had messed up somehow, so he messaged him again.
“Well? Have I finally rendered the old man speechless?”
Almost at the same time as he sent his message, Tony replied:
“I need to see you.”
Peter’s heart almost jumped out of his mouth when he read those words, eyes widening in shock. I need to see you. He read it a few more times to make sure it meant what he thought it meant. It couldn’t possibly – Tony wouldn’t want to meet him. That would be absurd. He was – well, Peter wasn’t sure, but he sounded important most of the time, he was definitely very rich, very hardworking and he seemed like a really nice guy. So really, why would he want to meet Peter. That made absolutely no sense, obviously he meant something different than that, he just didn’t quite know what–
“Please,” said the next message, just a few seconds later.
Peter bit his lower lip, feeling his face grow warmer. Just for the hell of it, he thought – what if Tony did mean he wanted to meet him? What then? Peter couldn’t say yes, that would be insane. He didn’t even know the man, all he knew were little things about his daily life, he didn’t know his last name, if he had a family, if he was married, if he was a psychopath – he didn’t even know what he looked like!
Still, he fantasized about saying yes. But that was just a fantasy. He couldn’t do it, that would be crazy.
Right?
“You won’t regret it, I’ll treat you right.”
Well, fuck. He had to go straight for his Achilles’s heel, huh.
Peter kept staring at the bright screen of his phone, breathing slowly to try to contain his wild heart that seemed adamant to burst out of his chest cavity in the next few minutes. He didn’t know what to say. No, his brain supplied, like it was obvious, because it was, right? He couldn’t say yes, yes was not a viable answer. He had to say no, it was only a matter of how he would say it without hurting the older man’s ego.
But.
Why exactly did he have to say no? He knew there were ate least 99 good answers to that question, but he couldn’t think of one, so–
“How do I know you’re not a serial killer?” Peter asked, even though he wasn’t really worried about that, it was the last thing on his mind, to be honest.
“You’ll know.” He said, plain and simple, and not helpful at all. And still, no flight response whatsoever from Peter’s brain. His stupid mind couldn’t seem to understand that that was clearly a terrible idea.“We’ll meet in a restaurant, the best in New York, and nothing else has to happen, I promise. We’ll have a nice dinner and that’s it. I just need to see you in person.”
That sounded reasonable, didn’t it? A public place, lots of eyes on them. If Tony turned out to be a creep, he could just leave. At the very worst, he’d be disappointed and lose a very generous subscriber; at the very best, he’d get a good meal out of it and who knew what else. It sounded reasonable. So it was probably reasonable.
Right?
“Can I wear this outfit?” He asked, because, well, that was all he had to wear to New York City’s best restaurant – whatever that was.
“You must, baby.” He answered quickly, and Peter smiled to himself. “So I’ll take that as a yes, then?”
He typed a quick yes, but didn’t send it right away. He gave his brain a few seconds to come up with reasons to say no, because he knew there were good reasons for that, but he really, honestly, just wanted to say–  
“Yes.”
“Perfect.” He replied right away, as if he had been staring at the phone, waiting for his answer. “I’ll set a time and place and let you know. You won’t regret it, Peter.”
Peter loved all the pet names Tony gave him, they were all sweet and funny, but when he called him by his actual name, it just hit different. It felt good. Like he wasn’t just a pretty picture in a porn app, an expensive hobby, but a person. It was hard for him to remember that, sometimes.
Some other times, it felt good to forget.
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ordinaryschmuck · 3 years
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What I Thought About "Hunting Palismans" From The Owl House
Salutations, random people on the internet who certainly won’t read this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.
Today, I present to you reason #4,693 for why The Owl House is the best thing at the moment: It's the perfect balance of serialized storytelling with an episodic format. The story always moves forward with an exact order for how episodes should be watched, but each episode still functions as its own standalone tale. Having prior knowledge of what happened before adds more to the experience, but you can still watch whatever you want and still have an enjoyable time. Take "Hunting Palismans," for example. It adds so much more to the overarching narrative while slightly continuing other threads. But it's still something you can watch as is without remembering the past or wondering about the future.
However, to properly explain how requires spoilers. I wasn't kidding when I say that this episode adds so much, so you're going to want to be wary of that when you continue reading.
With that said, let's review, shall we?
WHAT I LIKED
Coven Heads Meeting: We already saw these fellow schmucks in the trailer, but that doesn't take away how cool they are! It's not explicitly stated which head belongs to which coven, but you can already tell who goes where just from their designs alone. And I love that. I love that just by showing us some excellent character designs, anybody with half a brain can already figure out the particular type of magic each Coven Head specializes in. It's a perfect example of the show-don't-tell level of storytelling that is always at its best through animation, and I'm all for it because of it.
What the Day of Unity is: Several fans, myself included, have already speculated that the Day of Unity was that Emperor Belos planned to combine the human world with the Boiling Isles and rule it all with an iron fist. That being said, figuring it out is one thing, but being told that it's true is a whole different level pants-s**ting horror that I AM NOT READY FOR! Even when it's going to happen, I can assure you that I will not be prepared to witness it ...and I am scared of when it does.
Belos Body Horror: ...Disney, I was already scared s**tless of this guy. I DO NOT NEED THIS!
That being said, seeing Belos do...whatever the f**k that was, helps explain further why he needs the magic in palismans. I always assumed because it's like fuel for a car, giving him the power he needs. Now, even though the answer is more apparent, there are still some questions to be had. Is he cursed, and the magic keeps it at bay like Eda's potions? Or did he experiment with the wrong type of magic, and the palismans keep him stable? Only the future can say for sure...and I'm also not prepared for the answers from that either.
Golden Guard is Belos’ Nephew: Gosh dangit, THE INTRO HASN'T EVEN STARTED YET, AND THIS EPISODE IS ALREADY GIVING SO MUCH!
But, yeah, the most powerful witch on the Isles is apparently Golden Boy's Grunkle Belos. That very knowledge is incredibly interesting to discuss while presenting possibilities for future narratives. I don't know about you, but I see the Golden Guard going down the path of Zuko, learning that the magic of friendship is worth much more than whatever power he gains from being Belos' nephew. And possibly earning his uncle's love seeing how he's the only family he has. It's a situation that's vastly different from Amity's because even when she defies her parents, she'll still have Edric and Emira at the end of the day. For Golden Guard, knowing that he lost a great family to wild magic, the inclination to go against Belos is a lot weaker due to him being all he has left.
Oh, and also, Belos' family getting wiped out because of wild magic. Yeah, not only does that give the best type of motivation for Belos' distaste for it, but it also explains the Golden Guard's hesitance to use it. He's inclined to so he can save his uncle, sure. It's only the fact that he knows what happens with wild magic that causes some resistance...Also, we're less than a minute in, and I'm already getting all of this from one discussion between two characters.
HOW IS THIS SHOW SO GOOD?!
Intro Changes: It's about time too. It seems weird that the crew waited to change Eda and King's designs in the intro this late in the game, but it also tells me that Amity dying her hair lavender is the last huge change this season will present. Otherwise, why change the intro at all if you were going to alter Luz, Willow, and Gus' designs anyway? It just doesn't make sense to me.
Luz Keeping the Echo Mouse as a Pet: The fact that she keeps the most important creature in the world to her as a pet...it's...it's adorable, alright? And as we established several times, I cannot hate adorable things.
Don't judge me!
Amity Staying Home: There are two plausible ways why Amity didn't go to school that day. Either she's getting punished for dying her hair or because she's trying to avoid Luz so they won't talk about the you-know-what. Either could work and seem understandable to Luz, thus explaining why she admits how "that makes sense." Although, there is something to discuss in how Luz is curious as to where Amity is. Judging from the tone of her voice, it's pretty clear that she wants to talk about the little peck on the cheek and maybe get some confirmation as to what it means. Because there is no going back from that. You can explain away saying or doing something stupid, but you cannot un-kiss a cheek. That is a point of no return, and if Amity really is avoiding Luz because of it, that means it's up to our favorite weirdo to make the first move. As for what that may entail...we'll just have to wait and see.
Frewin: We get two bits of information here for the price of one reveal here. Knowing that Frewin is a palisman is shocking enough, but the knowledge that Bump is partially blind and needs Frewin to see? That is an intriguing piece of intel that I would have never expected to get revealed. This is reason #5,279 for what makes The Owl House so good. Even when the show presents information you wouldn't guess, it's all so interesting anyways that you can't help but go along with it.
Adopting Palismans: First of all, love the fact that the Bat Queen makes a return to provide a solution to the palisman trees being rare and solving her own problem regarding the discarded palismans. It's a situation where everyone wins in a way that is so clever that I can't help but admire it.
Second, the idea of students choosing to adopt palismans instead is cute. I'd say it gives further insight into who these characters are in how they say what they want to be, but there's nothing really new added that fans couldn't figure out from the get go. But I will say that it's pretty cool to know that these characters have official staffs now. Speaking of which, if you're upset that their palismans don't match up with your headcanons...grow up.
This was a cute and smartly written scene that should not be bogged down by whiney fans who can't accept a series doing something different from what they expect.
Little Rascal: I’d take a bullet for this bird. That is all.
Luz Being Uncertain of her Future: A lot of fans offer several ideas of what the future could look like for Luz. Will she stay in the Boiling Isles? In Connecticut? Or will she go back and forth? We don't know, but one question we rarely brought up is what does Luz want? More specifically, what does she want to do? After everything Luz went through, the adventures she's gone on, and the lessons learned, what is something that Luz wants her future to be? That's an answer she doesn't really figure out, and I'm genuinely ok with that being a question that's tabled for another day. Most kids who ask that question themselves aren't always going to find an answer after a short amount of time and sometimes even need to spend their lives trying to figure it out. So having it be something Luz has to consider and probably find out in a future episode is the smarter option, as it allows time for it to simmer in her own mind and provides more insight into her character. As stated several times in this episode, she doesn't think things through, so it's nice that the writers finally allowed her some time to wonder what's next when the adventure is over.
Luz Having to Improvise Without Paper Glyphs: You want to know what my favorite Spider-Man moments are (this is relevant. Trust me). My favorite moments are when Spidey's web-shooters run out of fluid, and he's forced to improvise with that big brain of his to find a solution. That's sort of what happens with Luz in "Hunting Palismans." She didn't bring her glyphs with her (why would she), so she's forced to use the environment around her to make new ones. Plus, Luz also flexes her knowledge of the Boiling Isles by mixing her glyphs with a magical plant (which Willow certainly told her about) so that she and the Golden Guard could knock out Kikimora's dragon. It's yet another showcase of her intelligence that a lot of fans are too keen to overlook. Unfortunate to see, too, because looking at how well Luz can craft the perfect solutions by fighting smarter, not harder, is a fantastic add-on to her personality. I love characters who win through their wits rather than their raw powers, and I once again hope more people will catch onto that aspect of her too.
Golden Guard Whistling the Theme: Look, I love it when a show acknowledges its own theme song, ok? Leave me alone.
Luz and the Golden Guard: This is one of those dynamics you didn't know you wanted until you have it. And now that I have it, I DEMAND MORE!
Seriously, seeing these two interact off of each other was a ton of fun to watch. When Luz and GG are initially at each other's throats, their threats and mockery towards one another aren't out of spiteful anger between two mortal enemies. It's more like...two siblings who get on each other's nerves yet are supposed to deal with one another. It's equally adorable and hilarious, and yes, I absolutely loved that they're forced to work together in this episode because of it.
Although, while the entertainment value is fantastic, it also adds more proof of why Luz is the best character in the series. She spends one night with this guy, and that's more than what she needed to make a difference with him. I wouldn't go so far as to say that they're buddies now, but Luz definitely sowed the seeds into his redemption. He's far from willing to join her side, but he still does something he rarely does with anyone else: He told her that his name is Hunter. And this is what Luz does. Through nearly every person she meets on the Boiling Isles, she always manages to change them for the better. It'll be a while before Hunter deflects from Belos, but if Amity proves anything, Luz has a way of sneaking into people's hearts. They just need to spend more time with one another, and I can't wait to see what happens next because of it.
Kikimora Wanting to Kill Hunter: This shows a lot about who Kikimora is, but it potentially proves just how dysfunctional the Emperor's Coven can be. If Kiki proves anything, the coven must be filled with people willing to backstab and cheat their way to get on Emperor Belos' good side. Just look at Lilith. She literally cursed her own sister just to get in and received all the rewards because of it. The Emperor's Coven may be the best choice for witches to do magic, but if you're surrounded by people you can't trust, then is it really worth it?
The Guards Not Knowing Who Hunter is: This helps add to how much of a big deal it is for Hunter to reveal his name to Luz. If people can't even recognize his face, there's a chance it means that he keeps his true identity a secret except for those in his inner circle.
And the coven guards brushing off his brand is more than believable to me. They may be aware that Belos' right hand is young, but teens will be teens. Anybody with enough artistic talent can fake a brand. So it isn't too far off for those two to think Hunter was just a kid pulling a prank.
Hunter is Powerless Without his Staff: Not much to say here. It's just some more neat insight into Hunter's character that makes me wonder if even Belos' magic is real magic.
But I will say this: The fact that Hunter comes from a lineage of powerless witches, well, who's to say that isn't because of a...certain ancestor?
(*Cough* Hunter is related to Philip *Cough*)
Hunter vs Kiki: A pretty well-animated fight scene that adds potential drama to the story for the future. Now that Kikimora knows that Hunter helped Luz escape with the palismans (albeit unwillingly), she may or may not hold that over his head when the time comes. Or, at the very least, decides to keep a closer eye on him whenever he makes a slip-up.
Eda and King Getting Luz her own Palisman Wood: These last two weeks have been severely lacking in the Eda and King department, but scenes like this more than make up for it. Those two have formed such a bond with Luz to the point where they would do the impossible if it meant she would feel better. It proves just how much of a family they all are and the lengths they would go for each other. After all, weirdos have to stick together.
Little Rascal going to Hunter: Hunter is right. That was surprising.
Given how much Little Rascal stuck by Luz, I was more than positive that she would be the one he chose. So seeing Little Rascal pick Hunter instead is a much nicer twist. There could be multiple reasons why, and I'm just going to leave that to the analyzers in this fandom to decide. Especially since the answer isn't really all that important.
So, instead, I'm going to go ahead and sit in the corner as I wOrRy AbOuT tHe DaY tHaT bElOs FiNdS lItTlE rAsCal!
IT'S GONNA HAPPEN! AND I SWEAR TO ALL THAT IS HOLY, IF THE WRITERS KILL HIM, I WILL NOT BE HAPPY!
WHAT I DISLIKED
First, there's...um...
Well, there was this...
Ok, as much as I liked--No, that turned out well anyways...
...
...I've got nothing.
I, honest to goodness, have no complaints about "Hunting Palismans" Not even the tiniest of nitpicks I would usually ignore due to how well-executed everything else was.
It's all written fantastically to the point where it's...perfect.
IN CONCLUSION
"Hunting Palismans" is an easy A+. It introduces even more plot threads, gives insight into characters, and despite being essential to the story, it still manages to be a fun episode all on its own. And, I'd go so far as to say that it's one of the best, if not the best, episodes in the series. There's nothing bad about it, and that surprises me. I rarely find nothing bad to say about any story, even the ones I enjoy greatly. I'm sure there are some flaws that others would be more than happy to point out, but why bother hunting for the imperfections when I could accept that, for once, an episode is simply perfect.
(And that’s six hits in a row...THAT STINKER IS GOING TO HAPPEN! It hasn’t happened yet, BUT IT’S GOING TO HAPPEN! I CAN FEEL IT!)
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words: 2.9k
pairing: yamaguchi t. x f!reader
prompt: soft dom
warnings: unprotected sex, dom/sub relationship, yamaguchi being a fucking DADDY, yamaguchi with long hair lives in my mind rent fREE
summary: whenever your friends thought of you and your boyfriend, they always assumed that you called the shots; that you were the one in control. boy are they wrong.
a/n: this piece was actually heavily inspired by @introloves answer to this ask about soft dom yams, and i knew right there that i had to write this because holy SHIT that was hot and i hope i did it justice. please check out their blog, it’s literally immaculate.
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yamaguchi tadashi.
if you were to mention that name to any of the main volleyball powerhouse school’s who played in 2012, they’d probably give you an odd look and ask, “who the hell is that?”
although making it onto karasuno’s volleyball team, yamaguchi wasn’t a starter like his fellow first years, and the only time he ever really saw any action on the court was if he was pinch serving.
in all honesty, yamaguchi tadashi was a nobody his first year.
but skip ahead to your last year of high school and you were to mention his name? suddenly the crowd would be alive with chatter, the air practically buzzing.
what had changed?
yamaguchi was a nobody his first year of high school because he didn’t want to be anybody.
since elementary school, yamaguchi always relied on someone else to tell him what to do; for someone to hold his hand and make his actions for him.
and for a while, he was content with that. from such a young age he believed that others were more wise and inept to tell him what to do than himself.
he trailed behind his best friend, tsukishima, and when they entered high school and met you, he trailed behind you for a while, too.
the day yamaguchi met you in the middle of his first year of high school, an unknown feeling embedded itself deeply in his chest. faint, but still there.
you had fit so seamlessly into his and tsukki’s little bubble that it almost seemed as if you were destined to have been friends with them.
you were incredibly smart (you were in the same class as them), you were witty enough to keep up with tsukki’s sass, but also kind and patient, lending an ear whenever he felt that he wasn’t good enough.
your never ending kindness sparked something in yamaguchi, and all he wanted to do was to give you everything you wanted. no matter what it was.
he was drawn to you because you were assertive, confident - a natural born leader. and to yamaguchi, you may as well have hung the moon and the stars in the sky just for him.
it made sense to anyone as to why he fell in love with you - you were all the things he wasn’t.
you realized even before you and yamaguchi began dating that he was more reliant on others than most, and it broke your heart.
even though he couldn’t see it, you recognized the potential in yamaguchi to be better than what he was now. he was such a caring and hardworking young man, he just needed that little extra push.
he recognized when to take charge, he just couldn’t see himself as the one to step up to the plate. in his head, there was always someone else to take the position, someone better than him.
so you decided to change that.
through the years of being with one another, you two slowly learned everything there was to know about each other, and you used that to your advantage.
slowly but surely, you helped yamaguchi overcome his dependability of others. you helped him grow confident in his skin and helped him realize his potential to lead instead of being lead.
like a farmer waiting for your crops to bloom, you watched him flourish with a deep pride.
but as much as you wanted to take all the credit for yourself, you knew that his friends on the team stood by yamaguchi’s side the entire time.
during your last year of high school, which only felt like yesterday (it was literally last year), you could still vividly recall the feeling of pure shock and absolute pride when ukai presented the captain’s jersey to your speechless boyfriend, the bold number one staring right back at him.
when his clear brown eyes met yours, that fire you’ve been waiting to see finally ignited in his irises, you knew your work was done.
now all that was left was to reap the benefits.
———————
you laughed at the loud belch that left tanaka’s mouth while tsukishima rolled his eyes in disgust.
all of karasuno’s old volleyball team sat around a large table outside the cafe, easily catching up with one another and sharing laughs and stories over drinks and food.
you smiled softly at the comfortable chatter of all your friends, chest warm as you felt a wave of nostalgia wash over you. ‘this feels just like taking a break during practice freshman year.’
back then everything felt so simple, the only goal they had in mind was to make it to nationals. and although all of that was in the past, it still brought a sense of comfort to you.
your musings were cut short when you felt a firm but gentle pressure on your thigh, a familiar large hand squeezing you comfortingly.
you brought your eyes to meet with the hands owner, and yamaguchi smiled softly when you raised a questioning eyebrow at him, lips pulled into a cheeky grin.
“what? do i have something on my face or do you just want a picture?” hinata snickered at your teasing words and yamaguchi rolled his eyes playfully.
“although a picture would be nice, i just wanted to know what you were thinking of, love.”
a soft smile replaced your mischievous grin from before and you looked around the table full of all of your closest friends, eyes full of happiness.
“oh it’s nothing, honestly.” you muse, pushing around a stray strawberry from the cake tsukishima insisted they ordered after lunch. “all this just reminded me of our first year of high school, s’all. y’know, like the breaks during practice.”
“i can kinda see what you mean.” daichi hummed while asahi and suga nodded along sagely.
“oh? if this is going back to your guys’s first year, does that mean yamaguchi is still being lead around by (y/n)?”
noya’s loud voice carried across the table, and suddenly, everyone’s eyes were on you and your boyfriend.
“hah?” you questioned, headed tilted to the side in confusion. yamaguchi rolled his eyes again while the table snickered to themselves.
“oh don’t play dumb, (y/n)! we all know that you basically had a leash on yams all throughout high school.” tanaka remarked playfully, waving his hand causally through the air.
“yeah! it was like you wore the pants in the relationship, not yamaguchi.” hinata joined in with a mouth full of cake, and you stared them down flabbergasted. your face flushed as even the third years nodded their heads in agreement.
“yeah, and it seems like she’s still wearing ‘em.” kageyama muttered and you choked on your spit while noya and tanaka howled.
yamaguchi scoffed, face pinkening as a playful smile curled his lips at his friends teasing. some things never change, it seems.
“what? do i really still seem like a pushover?” yamaguchi joked, but his eyes widened slightly in shock as the whole table nodded seriously.
some (see: tanaka and noya) even wiggled their eyebrows suggestively at the young couple. “yup, i bet (y/n) even takes charge in the bedroom, too.”
the mortified sound that left your lips fell on deaf ears as the table erupted in a bunch of juvenile hoots and hollers as yamaguchi lightly spluttered over his words, cheeks positively glowing now.
“are you denying it, (y/n)?” suga’s words silenced the table as everyone settled their eyes on you. even yamaguchi peered at you from beside you, curious to see what you would say.
while you were pretty sure you were dying from the embarrassment, there was a gremlin inside of you that wanted to tease your boyfriend in front of your friends.
so like an idiot, you went along with her.
“while i usually don’t kiss and tell, his voice is rather lovely~” you say with a wink, and genuinely laugh when the table interrupts into full blown chaos.
your amusement is short lived however when the hand that never left your thigh gave you another firm squeeze, but this one felt just a bit harsher than before.
you nervously turned to face your boyfriend, already knowing what was coming.
yamaguchi simply smiled sweetly at you, eyes full of love and humor. but his firm grip squeezes your thigh once more, and you know it’s a warning.
“you’re so cute, (y/n).” his words are light and sincere, but there’s something darker underlying them, just a tad bit menacing and you know what he’s really implying.
behave.
the only person to pick up on this little interaction between the two of you amidst all the hollering is tsukishima, and he smirks to himself as he takes a sip of his drink.
if only these idiots knew.
—————————
surprisingly, suga’s words stayed with yamaguchi for the rest of the day without his permission. like a leech, they imbedded themselves in his head and refused to leave no matter how hard he tried to focus on something else.
they stayed with him for the rest of the lunch with his old teammates, long after the conversation shifted to something else.
they stayed with him as you both said your goodbyes and headed back to your shared apartment near the university you both were attending.
they stayed with him even as he slowly undressed your body in your bedroom, calloused fingers gently trailing over your smooth skin as his lips connected with your neck.
“dashi~” you moaned as he gently left a red mark on your neck, sucking harder than usual so it would stick, staining your skin with his affection.
you yelped softly when yamaguchi gently pushed you to sprawl against the mattress, brown eyes looking at you with a gentle mixture of love and lust swirling in them.
but like earlier, there was hint of something harder behind his loving eyes and you knew it had to do with the conversation from before.
like any sane person would’ve done, you know you should’ve just left your boyfriend alone and not tease him about the earlier conversation. the last thing you’d want was to upset him.
but that same gremlin from before wanted to see how far you could push your normally sweet boyfriend. she wanted to see how far he’d bend till he broke.
so like an idiot for the second time that day, you indulged her.
with hooded eyes, you slowly rose to your knees and crawled towards your boyfriend who still stood at the foot of the bed, eyes watching your swaying frame with curiosity.
the large tent already forming in his jeans made your mouth water, and with teasing eyes you leaned forward and hooked your teeth on his zipper. your gaze never left his as you dragged it down, and you smirked at the way his kind eyes seemed to darken.
with practiced ease you pulled his jeans down along with his boxers and practically moaned as his long and heavy cock sprung from its confines, slapping against your cheek softly.
a soft groan left yamaguchi’s lips as your wrapped your warm and wet mouth around his weeping tip, eyes slipping shut as you lightly sucked on the head before bringing it deeper into your hot mouth.
you weren’t joking when you said his voice was lovely.
just as he was about to thread his hands through your hair to encourage you to take more of him into your mouth, you pulled away suddenly.
yamaguchi opened his eyes and settled his gaze on your giggling face, teasing eyes staring back at him as you gave his tip a coy lick before pulling away with a grin.
yamaguchi doesn’t falter, eyes never straying from yours as he simply smiles down at your teasing figure. bringing a big hand up to your cheek, you lean into his soft touch immediately before he trails down to your neck.
you freeze as his fingers wrap around your throat, squeezing firmly enough to take away your breath.
he only keeps his grip on you for less than a second, relaxing his fingers immediately. but as his index finger curls back to gently tap against your carotid artery, it’s his turn to gaze at you teasingly.
again, you’re reminded who’s really in charge.
“you really are cute, (y/n).”
you shiver as his words from earlier dance in your ears, and that same undertone of something else is laced through them, just a tad bit more forceful than before to give you the same warning. he only needed to squeeze you once to remind you.
behave.
with a nervous gulp, you stare into clear brown eyes as yamaguchi pulls his fingers away from your throat, watching in satisfaction as all traces of your earlier bratiness practically disappears.
he gives you another soft and loving smile as you scoot back on the bed to lay on your back, spreading your legs for him just like he taught you so he could get an eyeful of your wet and glistening folds, cute little hole clenching around nothing.
he didn’t have to say anything to keep you nice and obedient for him, he already had you trained so well. after all, you both knew who really called the shots.
——————————
yamaguchi tadashi may have been a nobody his first year of high school, but ever since you came into his life, for the first time ever he realized he wanted to be somebody.
and that somebody was someone to give you everything you wanted, no matter what you asked for.
this is what made him the perfect soft dom, the perfect lover. he was always willing to give you what you asked for.
you’d ask for him to touch you harder; to thrust into you faster. you’d ask for all of his love and affection and he would hand it over to you on a silver platter.
but he also knew how to keep you in your place, and you thrived off of it. it was the gentle way he went about it, the kind manner he spoke to you in that made it all the more tantalizing.
it reminded you all too much of a sleeping lion, waiting to be awakened.
like the way he was in his everyday life, yamaguchi was gentle with you. he never would do anything to hurt you on purpose.
he was gentle in the way he asked you to spread your legs for him. he was gentle in the way he’d pull orgasm after orgasm from your twitching and gushing cunt.
you thought he had forgotten about your two little slip ups from earlier, but you obviously didn’t know your boyfriend as well as you thought you did.
he doesn’t intentionally bring up your bratiness from earlier, but he thinks you get the message of his lesson as he folds your body in half, thick cock spearing you open as he pounds a little harder than usual into your dripping core.
you may have said his voice sounded lovely, but you’ve obviously never listened to yourself as he fucks you nice and deep, cock stirring up your insides with each thrust and grind.
“d-dashi! t-too much!” you squeal out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he ignores your words, pumping his hips into you steadily.
his tip was hammering right into your poor cervix, dragging against your g-spot with each pass and you felt like you were going to hyperventilate.
he watches the way you attempt to cling onto any bit of sanity you have left, nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to leave marks as drool drips down your chin.
he moans your name softly as he pounds into you, eyes filled with adoration at the absolutely lost look on your face, cute brows furrowed in the pleasure that he was giving you.
he flushed at the way your walls fluttered around him, wet cunt practically sucking him back in every time he pulls his hips away, only to stretch you back open as he slams in balls deep.
he knows this position allows him to sink in deeper than he usually does, and he knows you’ve learned your lesson when you beg him to slow down, voice growing higher in pitch as you approach your orgasm.
instead, yamaguchi increases his speed, hips hammering into yours as he groans out your name again, relishing in the way you tug on his hair until it’s pulled from the loose ponytail he placed it in.
soft green locks curtain your faces as you both breathe in each other’s breath, eyes locking as yamaguchi steadily brings you towards your climax.
the only time yamaguchi will hurt you on purpose is when his teeth dig into your neck as he prepares to tip you over the edge, hands gripping your waist tight enough to leave bruises behind for tomorrow to see.
he pulls his lips away to watch with a possessive satisfaction as you fall over the edge, toes curling and nails breaking the skin of his shoulders as you scream.
your voice is broken and shot as you babble his name into incoherency, body twitching from overstimulation as his deft fingers never leave your clit, working you through your first orgasm and gently beginning to bring you to your second one, his hips slowing down but never stopping.
his eyes are full of pure adoration and love as you weakly cling onto him and babble out slurred ‘i love you’s. he knows you’ve learned your lesson, and he knows he’ll have to teach it to you all over again.
through the haze of your orgasm and the gentle building of your second one, you know he’s not done with you yet as he smiles down on you, freckled cheeks resembling a strawberry at the red blush dusting them.
“you’re such a good girl for me, (y/n). do you think you can give me another?”
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taglist: @lovelypasteldreams @living-for-drama @arixtsukki @month-seasoning @bakarinnie
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