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#but I still have so many thoughts and emotions about the live action and the series and Luffy in general
Note
May I ask why you dislike Malleus so much?
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[My TWST character tier list is here.]
[For context on why I dislike Malleus: here and here!]
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Many of the reasons previously cited above are still applicable presently (though some points may be outdated since those posts were written before book 7). In this post, I will mostly be focusing on why my thoughts on Malleus have not changed despite the new added content of book 7.
I ramble on for a bit, so I put my thoughts below the cut! Ah—but before you read, please be aware that these are my opinions and not meant to be disparaging to any Malleus likers out there.
Me disliking him should not take away any of your joy!! Go out there and love him for me ^^
A lot of the things happening in book 7 were a long time coming, so really I felt as though Malleus finally “losing it” was affirming of all the red flags from before. Since day 1, his loneliness, aloofness, and awkwardness around his peers were key traits of his. What book 7 does is it magnifies the darkest aspects of his character.
We’ve seen several examples when Malleus has fits of rage and his power flares out of control or he at least threatens it. In Glorious Masquerade, he becomes enraged at the realization that the invitation he received was a false one. In A Firelit Sky, he insinuates that he would be upset if people questioned his presence for the trip. He crushes Lilia’s phone in his own Dorm Uniform vignettes, destroying a friend’s belonging because he was upset about not being invited to an occasion. In book 7, we see a flashback of Malleus freezing the whole castle as a child because his grandmother, overtaken by her duties, could no longer dine with him as promised. Malleus’s temper has been a persistent issue since childhood.
We’ve also seen him act callously toward his classmates and misuse magic to force his will upon them. Remember him stopping time during Endless Halloween Night? How he wanted some ghosts to enjoy themselves instead of missing out on being with everyone for the holiday? Now he’s stopping time in book 7 and keeping everyone in their happy dreams forever. Remember how (in his Dorm Uniform vignettes) Malleus thought it would be easier to make the other dorm leaders come to him instead of him coming to them for their meeting? So then he disregards their autonomy and casts magic that’s normally cast on objects on living beings (something which the other dorm leaders take offense to, as it is dehumanizing). He fails to consider their perspective when he returns to Diasomnia (he basically goes, “well, I wouldn’t have been mad if they cast that spell on me!”). Malleus learns nothing from the experience despite Lilia trying to tell him over and over to be more considerate of others and how different they are from him. Now we have Malleus relating his peers to a virtual pet that he never ever wants to leave him.
Malleus can be stubborn and arrogant. He has a very single-minded way of thinking and often does not consider others’ feelings before he makes the decision for them. Malleus can be insecure. He doesn’t even fully realize he is lonely until Yuu suggests it in book 7, but he’s capable of acting on his bouts of intense emotion. He has always had these flaws, and now they are being brought out in full; we’re being forced to confront OB Malleus and all the complicated, twisting feelings of abandonment that come with him.
Let’s make one thing very clear: I don’t take issue with the overblot boys in general; they are meant to be morally grey characters that act in dubious ways. It would be insincere for me to claim “I dislike Malleus because he did bad things!” News flash, many TWST characters have done bad things or at least questionable things that would give you pause. What separates Malleus from the others and makes him egregious enough to earn significant ire from me is the particular actions he takes (which triggers a personal disdain of mine).
Malleus consistently exerts a scary amount of control over others. This is not a new idea; Riddle and Vil are also notorious for being oppressive or controlling, and I’ll be the first to admit that. (You’ll note that those two are low on my tier list too.) The thing is, Riddle and Vil were very overt and open about their demands for obedience. Malleus can be too, but it’s so insidious how he acts within the dreams. He ignores people’s autonomy, gaslights others, and, again, acts like he knows what’s best for them 💀 Other characters have done these things too, but never to the same scale or by exerting this much power. Malleus then resorts to violence when his lies don’t work, even though he’s fully aware of the power disparity between him and his peers. It feels particularly scummy to me because of how Malleus frames his selfish actions and feelings (his wish for Lilia to not leave) as selfless (for the benefit of his peers) and something everyone else would want in order to justify it to himself 💦 I know he is in (or bordering on) overblot so he wasn’t thinking rationally at that point, plus the fact that many examples I listed come from events or vignettes which may not be canon to the main story timeline. Still, there is a concerning pattern of behavior with Malleus misusing his powers or not being considerate of others and failing to grow from those mistakes. You can only go “oopsie” so many times before you harm someone by accident. I expect people to learn their lesson by then and adopt some proper restraint. He keeps claiming his intentions are good as if that’s supposed to dismiss any harm that results from his actions??? No, his actions still harmed people and he has to deal with the consequences of them, not have them hand-waved away or excused. The behavior I’m witnessing is reminiscent of like… having a toxic friend that is constantly told “hey, what you’re doing/saying makes me feel uncomfortable; do you think you could dial it back?” and the friend tells you they’ll try but then never actually changes their behavior or defends their behavior with “I didn’t mean to, so therefore I did not actually harm anyone”.
You can give me a backstory, but a backstory only goes so far as explaining why he is the way he is; it does not excuse him at all. You can say “He’s a fairy! He’s sheltered!” until the cows come home, but when he relies on magic to quickly fix the problems he caused instead of stopping to genuinely reflect on why people are mad at him, it’s hard for me to sympathize. Because of his immense power and status, the only person that can reasonably hold Malleus accountable is himself, and he has not demonstrated to me that he can do that.
Book 7 is essentially the payoff for allllll the tropes and traits I never liked to begin with coming into fruition. That’s why Malleus has stayed where he is in my TWST character ranking. I did not expect the writing, no matter how good or tear-jerking, to change that. Until Malleus shows that he’s fully apologetic, recognizes the error of his ways, and consciously tries to connect with others and understand their perspectives, he’s staying squarely where he is.
Am I saying a character with flaws is a bad thing? No, absolutely not! Flaws are what make a character interesting, I’m not faulting Malleus or any other characters for having them. Am I saying that he is poorly written? No, I think Malleus is actually quite a complex character and he’s been really fascinating to follow. I love the emotional complexity of book 7–and it was so clever how the devs related his virtual pet to wishing for happily ever afters for people in his real life. This magnitude of danger is also just about what I expect of book 7 and the themes of togetherness that TWST was angling for from the start. But the fact remains unchanged that I perceive his attitude as irritating at best and reprehensible at worst.
My distaste for Malleus is based entirely on my own views and life experiences. The specific flaws Malleus has and how he acts because of them don’t sit well with me and the kinds of things I enjoy in fiction. It’s not anything deeper than that!
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Asking about Adam;
//A.N: This was originally going to be an RP, but due to burnout, paired with a desire to move the story along I have decided to progress the plot of Ninlil’s end Via a canon Story. Please know I will be doing my best to represent @theholyone-hh as close to his character as I can. However, I will never do as well as the original Mod who runs him so if he seems a bit OOC, I do apologize. //
TW: depressive episode, feelings of worthlessness, anxiety and yearning. Clumsy attempts at comfort, maybe some bad decisions. Some realizations Because of the topics discussed this will be a 16+ fic. If you’re feeling these types of emotions please go seek out proper help.
This isn’t going to be super long, but it is gonna be a longer story, strap in folks.
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Enjoy my story below the cut;
Ninlil had slowly been going mad, between the time that had been spent in her cage combined with her heartbreak of being left behind while others moved on, she had fallen into a depression.
Even now she laid in her bed, staring at the ceiling well into the day, yet to eat, yet to clean herself - not that such a thing was truly needed in heaven, though it still showed a lack of her own self care - and yet say hello to her keeper Host.
The winged woman started to question if what she had done was worth it… not even her sacrifice and subsequent soul selling, before that… when she was alive. Were her actions worth it?
She was always the care taker, always the protector. And yes, those she watched over never asked her to do so, she had done it because she loved them and didn’t know how else to show it…
The things she had done, the blood she had spilled, the lives she had prematurely ended for the sake of preserving her beloved…
Was it for nothing? Did she waste her time… did she waste her life?
Her breathing turned harsh as tears ran down her cheeks. A whine lodged in her throat that she simply refused to let out…
Had she truly being abandoned by those whom she sacrificed Everything for? Was she selfish for wanting them to care a bit more and not move on so fast?
But… she wanted them to move on, she wanted them to be happy, she wanted them to find peace… why did it hurt now that they were actually doing it thanks to her sacrifice…
Was she a bad person for hoping they’d still try to save her even though she knew that it was futile and if they dared to try it could result in them getting hurt? Or worse, their very souls being destroyed?
No… no, she couldn’t be selfish… she had given up too much to waste on such self-serving wishes…
But then why did it still hurt so much?
Her breathing turned harsh as she gripped the angelic fabric over her chest, the erratic and rhythmic beating of her heart a brand against her palm. Just like the warm golden hearts gripped in her hand with the fabric were a constant reminder of what exactly she had done.
She had died for love… twice…
Did that make her honorable… or a fool?
Her other hand covered her mouth as a sob forced it’s way out and she curled up into herself, laying on her side as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror…
Her eyes weren’t hers anymore…
They were His.
Haha! Pathetic!… I’m pathetic! She thought to herself with bitterness as she tried desperately to hold back her tears.
She didn’t hear the door click open as God stepped in.
“Birdy?”
His voice came out hesitantly.
“What is wrong? What ails you?”
Now,
God was very very old, God was wise and God saw all…
But, still, he was ill-equipped at dealing with emotions. Having been alone for as long as he has, his emotional maturity is stunted, and he didn’t know exactly what humans required.
They were little things to him. God looking at humans, as humans might a smaller creature, like song birds or squirrels or even ants at times.
True, his Birdy has taught him many a valuable lesson. She has taught him about how humans utilize Free Will differently, how humans had feelings and needed to be treated like people, how children make mistakes, how pride is a powerful thing, that 10,000 years is a long time…
She was patient and a good teacher, his sweet little Birdy, a child herself compared to his vast and endless existence, but still wise and gentle.
He liked her. It’s why he kept her.
Perhaps, in his mind, he was aware that he should release her from his sculptors cabin and allow her to Roam and Experience the heavens he had created to house the mortal souls… souls like her…
But he enjoyed her company too much.
And she never asked him to leave.
So why bring it up?
Still though, as he let himself into her private room, he still thought himself ill-equipped to deal with… whatever this was.
Part of him wanted to just leave the room, but something stopped him.
“Birdy… talk to me child. Why do you weep?”
He sat on the foot of the bed, his massive height making it creak, but it held under his weight because he willed it to.
“Did you hurt yourself?”
He awkwardly - but gently - patted her back in a sorry gesture of comfort.
But for Ninlil, it was enough to know he was trying, and it made her sob harder. Not in pain, but that someone cared, and it was the very person she had sold her soul to so that he’d stop hurting the people she had been growing to love… that she did love.
It’d be hilarious if it wasn’t so sad.
She cried for 30 more minutes before the sobs finally ceased and she just breathed manually and with steady concentration to force her body and her mind to calm itself. Still curled in on herself in a vain attempt at self-comfort.
During her sobs, her head had ended up on Gods lap, his hand - still awkward- petting her hair.
“What brought this on my Birdy? What has happened?”
God asked softly, seeing that Ninlil had finally calmed.
There was a tense beat of silence before Ninlil spoke, her voice raspy and thick from her sobs.
“…. Have I been good? Did I make the right call? Was my sacrifice not in vain?”
It was God’s turn to be silent. Mulling over her words and wondering if there was a correct answer. He settled on the truth.
“You, have surpassed all expectations I had for you… You have restored my faith in humanity and for your sacrifices and good deeds, I deemed it fit to restore your divinity. You’ve been a bit more than, Good.”
He paused as he thought over his next words.
“As for the outcome of your sacrifices… I suppose it depends on what you deem as a success… Lucifer has moved on with his damned bride. They seem to have re-found their happiness, the First Man and the Second Woman are moving on and finding their peace as well. Though Adam still needs to undergo his final two remaining punishments.”
His hand jerked as Ninlil flinched beneath him, having not expected that movement from her. He expected her next words even less, though, at this point he supposed he should’ve seen it coming. She was a loyal woman after all.
The dedication she had to the original duo and the Morningstar was indeed admirable.
“Is there anyway you can leave it at the nightmares he’s already had? Maybe as payment for the tail feathers you took?” Her voice pleading.
“Pet.”
He growled, his voice low and full of warning.
“Your feathers were taken as punishment for placing your soul and my Power in danger by allowing yourself contact with a damned soul before your divinity was properly settled…”
He eyes her until she shrunk beneath his gaze, surrendering to his presence.
“And you know the deal, 3 nightmares, and then freedom. You will not sacrifice more of yourself for him. As you’ve already mentioned so many times; We are all over 10,000 years old. He can handle himself.”
He ran a hand through her hair again as if to push his order into her head, both in comfort and a mocking reminder he saw her as just that… a pet.
“Yes sir…” she conceded, knowing there was nothing she could do. Not against him. Not when he owned her soul. She felt her desire to argue his words and plead her case for her beloveds die in her chest before it was even a proper thought. His hold on her complete.
“Good girl.”
He carefully pat her head again. Praising her and rewarding her obedience.
Indeed she was a good child. He had chosen well.
“Now. What can I do to make you feel better and forget about all this, sad nonsense?”
He waved a hand frivolously at the word, as if her depression was a minor inconvenience.
To him… perhaps it was…
Ninlil sighed as she sat up and began to comb her fingers through her hair, attempting to regain her composure and her appearance.
“I need to wash, I probably look a mess… afterwards… I’d like to rest in the sun for a bit if that’s okay with you Sir.”
She looked up at him, and she wondered if she looked as pathetic as she felt. Emotionally drained, physically exhausted, eyes red and puffy, skin pale from crying.
Though if she did, God made no mention of it. Instead, he simply nodded.
“I shall allow this, I will meet you outside, do hurry.”
Ninlil nodded as she felt obedience wrap around her, urging her to hurry and obey. The side effect of her deal.
Still she took care in her task, allowing herself to be a bit pampered after her earlier violent purge of emotions.
Still though; She was outside, laying in the sun-warmed grass in under 20 minutes, God beside her, joining her. Enjoying the basking rays of golden warmth.
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There they stayed for hours. Sunbathing as though it could wash the darkness within her mind away.
Though, there were certain thoughts that still plagued her. Her mind still running.
She wanted to check on Adam, she wanted to check on Lucifer and check on Eve… she wished they were the ones beside her right now, enjoying the sunshine rays. And comforting her after her cries…
But alas, God wouldn’t permit that…
Her mind still wondered, thinking to other people she missed.
Her brother… Though, god was lenient enough to grant the siblings some free time together.
Yes, seeing Conner again after seven years had brought more happiness into her life than she could remember. She felt as though her heart was gonna burst. God allowed Conner over, and allowed her to leave with him… so long as she was back before sundown.
How she had missed him…
It had given her endless relief when she had learned that her long deceased grandparents had been the ones to take Conner in. He was still with family. And even better,
He was slowly growing. He would eventually have the chance to be an adult. He wouldn’t be a child forever.
She had wept with joy upon learning that.
Her thoughts wondered agin,
To another man she loved…
To a human she had loved…
Adam…
No not That Adam…
Her Adam, the human Adam, the brilliant doctor who was full of light and life.
The man she had ended her human life to protect…
The man she had condemned herself to hell for.
Her first love…
“Sir?” She found herself speaking up.
God lazily rolled his head to look at her, having been enjoying the sun’s rays.
“Hmm?”
“May-“ She hesitated, suddenly nervous.
“Well? Spit it out Birdy.”
God rolled his eyes impatiently as he adjusted so he was lying on his back. Still enjoying the sun.
Ninlil took a deep breath and asked. “May I see someone on earth?”
God froze. Before he narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
“Who?”
“There was a man I left behind a little over five years ago. I loved him very much…. He’s the reason I willingly damned myself to hell. I would like to check on him. See if he’s doing okay.” Ninlil would speak a little too quickly, needing to force herself to make sure her words were slow.
God thought about it for a bit before he sighed.
“I… suppose I can grant you this. You have been good lately and I suppose you deserve a reward.”
He raised a hand and with a crackle of pure divine energy, summoned a viewing sphere that glowed even in the bright daylight.
“Well, what was the mortal’s name?”
Ninlil but her lip. “Adam…”
God froze and slowly turned to look at Ninlil and Ninlil was quick to raise her hands in defense.
“Not that Adam! This Adam was a surgeon! A very talented one! They are NOT the same man! They just happen to share the same name I promise!”
God still started at her just long enough for Ninlil’s heart to drop before he sighed and shook his head.
“Oh child, what am I gonna do with you….”
He asked her. Before he turned his body to properly face her. The glowing sphere of divine light between them. And his face very serious.
“Do you love this man?”
The question gave Ninlil a pause…
She hadn’t thought about that in a while. And even a month ago the answer would been easy.
Yes, everything she had done was for him.
The deals, the murders, the monsterzation of herself, the burial of her peace, the always going, the never resting… EVERYTHING… was for him…
Even a month ago, his face alone was the picture in her mind when she thought of the word ‘Love’…
But now, so much has happened.
Now, three other faces flashed in her mind when she thought of that word… two in the forefront…
Lucifer… and Adam…
The former angel who she died for as she had her human beloved, the former angel who made her laugh, the former angel who carried her with a shocking strength when she was too weak to move on her own…
And the First Man. Adam. The man who held her safe as she took her last breath once again, the man who begged her to stay with him even as she bled out. Who held her safe when she wept through the anniversary of her brother’s death, who made her smile and laugh again, who made her feel important and baked with her. Who reminded her what is was to feel strong, yet cared for.
She did still love her Beloved… but she didn’t just love him alone anymore… she… didn’t know how to feel…
“I… don’t know….” She found herself saying, unable to help but feel like she was betraying her beloved in that moment. Tears welling up in her eyes again.
“Birdy, i would make another Deal with you. Because seeing you hurting does not please me.”
Ninlil gulped. “What would the deal be sir?”
“If whatever you see, causes you pain, and pushes you deeper into your sadness. I will remove this mortal from your memories so that you won’t hurt from them ever again…
But, if you are pleased with what you see, than I will ensure his safety for the rest of his mortal life…. If he’s as good as you say, He will know no hardships and can focus his energy on helping others.”
He holds out a hand.
“Deal?”
Ninlil started at his hand as her thoughts raced, her eyes wide and flowing with tears that left mini rivers down her cheeks as her head struggled to wrap itself around God’s words.
He would be safe… forever safe, free from any harm that may befall him. Just as she had sacrificed everything in hopes of accomplishing…
Or,
He would be forgotten, the reason for everything she had sacrificed, the reason she had gone to hell in the first place. The reason she had suffered as she had suffered and made the choices that had shaped her as a woman… simply… gone…
Was it worth it…
Was she that curious….
‘Yes’ She decided. ‘Yes she was, she needed to know that she hadn’t died in vain… she needed to see him…”
She placed her hand in his much larger grip and squeezed.
“Deal.”
The constraints of the deal wrapped around her like chains, and she felt a twinge of fear for a bad outcome. Suddenly aware that she was currently unable to lie to the ancient being before Her.
As the deal settled, the glowing sphere began to glow impossibly brighter. And images began to dance in the shadows before becoming clear.
She saw her beloved… the human Adam…
He was smiling, talking to a patient and giving what looked like a good diagnosis. The patient, who had been holding the hand of their spouse while listening to Adam’s words burst into tears and held their loved one in a tight embrace before enthusiastically shaking Adam’s hand and offering a load of sincere, tear-filled thank you’s.
Then Adam had gone through the rest of his day, conducting surgeries, talking to patients, and reassuring an old man who didn’t have enough money for his wife’s broken wrist that if he instead paid with some fresh venison, consider the price waived.
He was always like that. Ninlil remembered, So generous and kind, becoming a doctor not for the money, but for the pure joy of making others feel better.
That desire to help people no matter what is what had attracted Ninlil to him in the first place… how she would have done anything to protect that smile.
He was good… so good.
Perhaps it shouldn’t have come as a shock that when he ended the day, he went to his truck, and once he had slid in, and fished in his pocket and pulled out a ring…
Ninlil froze, not even daring to breathe.
She watched unblinkingly as he carefully slid that ring onto a very specific finger…
She sat in silence as she watched him drive home listening to the music she had long associated with him…
And she moved not even a muscle as she watched him eventually pull into a driveway, into a garage, only to step out and walk into his house.
And into the arms of a woman wearing a matching ring…
A breath left Ninlil lungs as she still continued to stare at the seeing sphere.
He had gotten married, he had moved on…
Of course he had, she reminded herself. It’s been over five years…
She watched as the couple chatted and laughed, sitting down to eat dinner before cleaning up together and dancing in the living room…
It was a picture of a perfect romance… homely, domestic and innocent…
It was everything Ninlil has never had… and everything she had wanted…
Everything she secretly wished to still eventually have one day.
When they settled in the couch to watch some movie, Ninlil found herself reaching to touch the sphere, murmuring to herself. Her eyes still fixed in the screen as tears continued to roll down her cheeks.
“He got married… he’s safe, he’s happy, he moved on… I…” She smiled, letting out a shuddering breath. “I didn’t die for nothing….”
She watched them for a few more minutes, fixated on their smiles and laughter… zoned in on their true happiness.
But when they decided to share a kiss and retreat to their bedroom, God shut down the sphere.
“Are you satisfied with what you saw my Birdy?”
Ninlil nodded, her eyes still on where the sphere was.
“I am…” Her voice broke, but not with anguish. With relief.
God nodded and carefully picked Ninlil up. The winged woman letting him. Abruptly becoming aware that the sun had set while she was focused on the visions within the sphere.
God took her inside and sat her on the crafting table before taking his own seat and grabbing a chunk of clay.
“True to my promise, I will make sure that mortal remains safe.”
He said as he shaped the clay in his hands into a great golden eagle. Molding the clay with the knowledge and skill of a master. The eagle as detailed as the actually thing before he gave it a spark and breathed life into it, making it become the actual thing and sending it to earth.
“He shall never know another day of hardship, not so long as he remains pure intentioned.”
“Thank you sir.” Ninlil responded, bowing her head in obedience. “You don’t realize how much I appreciate your generosity.”
He waved off her words with a huff. But was happy she was no longer crying as she had been before. Those sounds weren’t pleasant to him.
He kept his Birdy by his side, where they talked and learned from each other well into the night before he eventually retired into his room, and Ninlil was close behind to do the same.
As she laid in her bed, she stared at the ceiling and thought about what she had seen today.
Adam was safe, happy, and moved on… her chest hurt a bit at the thought, but more overwhelmingly, she was genuinely happy her beloved still wasn’t mourning a dead woman.
5 years… 5 years was long enough to mourn. He deserved this happiness.
Her mind filled with a sense of peace as she gave her blessing.
“May your cup always be full, your heart happy, your mind peaceful, and your wallet forever filled with prosperity, I loved you Adam…” she whispered as she stared at the ceiling in the privacy of her room. “But you’re no longer mine…My heart releases you. I wish you all the best of love and luck my former beloved”
She sighed and closed her eyes as other faces filled her mind…
How she missed them… how she wanted to be back in their arms…
In her mind, in her room, in the depth of the night. Ninlil began to formulate a plan. The last semblance of her whole, un-splintered mind grasping onto this hope. Given a purpose once more, she rattled against the chains of complacency, the Watchdog opening her eyes again.
She had to get back to them…
The only thing left to figure out was How?
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Authors note; THIS TOOK ME TWO DAYS! But it’s not proofread, please forgive any spelling errors! I hope you enjoyed!
Tagging list:
@hunters-trashblog @sinner-master-adam @chaoticmoron @rayhandle @first--woman @theholyone-hh @green-static @stampy-offical @lolmerfolk @god-the-lord
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infriga · 8 months
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Another thing from the One Piece live action that I have a lot of thoughts about is a certain change they made that normally I might have disliked but actually felt they did rather well.
That being, Luffy listening to crew members backstories.
In the manga Luffy often goes out of his way to avoid listening to crew member's backstories when they're told by other people, because he doesn't like hearing about his crew from other characters and also because he's of the opinion that he doesn't give a shit about their past because doesn't change how he feels about them. All he needs to know is "this person hurt my friend/made my friend cry/has ill will towards my friend". He trusts implicitly that if his friend has a problem with someone then it's with good reason, he doesn't need to know the particulars. He'll listen to the crew member themself if they're the one talking about it, but if someone else is doing the telling he often leaves or falls asleep, with a few exceptions (like Brook's backstory, because hearing Brook's backstory is important for realizing who Brook is, which crew he came from, and his relation to Laboon. I think the fact that the one telling him is another crew member also helps here). This was a trait I liked about him, the way he places importance on hearing about this stuff directly from the person and wants to know what they want and how they feel out of their own mouth. It was a cool, subtle trait that adds some depth to him. It also gives this sense of respect to the privacy of someone who doesn't get to tell their own story, maybe not intentionally on Luffy's part, who doesn't really have a strong concept of privacy tbh, but as a vibe you know? Obviously it's a good way to provide exposition especially if the character isn't the type to tell their own story, but there's still an invasion of privacy on some level even if it's arguably justified.
Nami's backstory is one such instance like this. He refuses to listen about Nami from Nojiko (literally says "no thanks I'm not interested in her past" and leaves). He doesn't need to know about Nami's past to want to help her and he wants to hear that she needs help directly from her.
In the live action however, he listens to Nojiko this time, when she tells Nami's story. And I get why, the way the story is arranged doesn't give as much room for Luffy to wander off and witness Nami's confrontation with the villagers separately, and that aspect of his character would probably be difficult to get across without making him seem like a dick in live action to newcomers, hell it doesn't always get across in the manga/anime either, since I've seen plenty of people complain about him doing it and saying it's a dick move. But! They added a line in the live action that I think managed to get across the same feeling about his character quite well in a succinct way. It was when he says "I'm tired of hearing about Nami from other people".
It brings to mind what he says to Robin in Enies Lobby. "I want to hear it from your own mouth!" he wants to hear about his friends and how they feel directly from them, not second hand from other people. And he wants to hear the truth because he knows when his friends are lying about how they feel. He doesn't care how well those other people know the crew member in question, he cares about learning about them directly from them. And later when they do the scene™ with Nami, it doesn't ring false when she says "you don't know anything about what's going on here" and he replies with "I don't" because to him since he didn't hear it from her directly he doesn't really know what's going on. He just knows that she's in pain and needs him but he wants to hear it from her, that she needs help. It isn't as subtle and doesn't have as many layers of interpretation that the original portrayal of this character trait is able to be, but that's just the nature of an adaptation like this, they have to be smart about what subtleties they keep and what they have to be more obvious/blunt about. There are actually a few areas where the live action are more subtle, like the way they take out a lot of exposition but still manage to explain a lot of stuff about their world through show rather than tell. The dialogue about devil fruits for example, they never outright say that devil fruit users have their power drained when they're submerged in water, but they do have scenes showing the effects and people referencing that aspect of fruits in ways that feel more natural to people who live in the world and aren't giving obligatory exposition. Other people have mentioned this but the live action is surprisingly good with show don't tell, and use it in all the right ways.
I get the feeling that some of the small adjustments they made to the script and exposition and stuff like Luffy's behaviour still feel right and in-character/canon compliant (not literally canon-compliant but in spirit if you know what I mean) to me because they feel like they get across some of the more subtle aspects of his character that a lot of people miss. Like it bugs me when people say the live action made Luffy "smarter" which I'm probably gonna make a whole separate post about. For now I'll just say, Luffy isn't anywhere near as stupid as a lot of people think he is.
Or when people think him not wanting to eat when he's worried about Zoro is out of character, when we've seen in the original series that Luffy actually *does* have a harder time eating or thinking about food when he's stressed out about his friends. In the original series it does generally take a bit more stress to get him to that point, but like I said I think they adjusted it to make this point more clear in live action, that Luffy's love of his friends and crew overshadow his love for food. And it also gives them a small moment to showcase more of Sanji's caring nature when it comes to food when he responds by trying to feed Luffy and convince him to eat, which is a great moment to add especially since they were limited with Sanji's characterisation due to him joining the latest in the season, they managed to pack in so much characterisation for him into a relatively short window and I was impressed by that. And I have some examples regarding Luffy abstaining from food for the sake of others or being more reluctant to eat when stressed, but I think I'll leave that for a separate post as well.
They had less time to develop the crew relationships so they made sure to emphasize their bonds within the scenes they did have, putting more weight on Luffy's worry for Zoro, having Luffy be a bit more outwardly attentive to the interpersonal dynamics of the crew, being a little bit more obvious about Luffy's emotional intelligence, etc. None of these things feel like they actually change anything about Luffy's core character, they just showcase aspects of his character that already exist and are just more subtle in the original, because it's a long running series and can afford to take more time to establish these character traits. Luffy might not have shown as much outward anxiety over Zoro's injury in the manga, but that's because Oda had more time to build up the relationship before that point, so the live action took advantage of the injury subplot to be more overt about how Luffy feels about Zoro, as well as how his one point of anxiety that really gets to him consistently is the safety of his crew and him feeling helpless when he can't do anything because the problem isn't something he can punch away. So in altering that scenario a bit they can still keep that sense of a deep bond between the two despite having less time to show them growing close in smaller moments like the manga does. They probably realised that having Luffy leave or fall asleep during Nami's backstory wouldn't come across as well in the live action or fit the narrative structure changes, but they still took a moment to add a line that acknowledged that part of Luffy's character.
Like part of why most of the changes they did make didn't bother me is because of that feeling that no matter what they changed they were still dedicated to being as true to the characters as possible in the most fundamental ways. I'd certainly much rather have the live action place emphasis on Luffy's emotional intelligence and empathy and care for his crew instead of putting emphasis on him being stupid and comedic and sacrificing some of his empathy and emotional intelligence in the process. Do I love when Luffy is a hilarious dumbass? Absolutely, but that isn't the most important part of his character, so I'm glad they did the opposite of flanderize him, and they still did keep the funny dumbass part of him intact they just didn't put more importance on it than they needed to.
Anyway, this got away from me, but I just wanted to make a post about this because I feel like it's a good example of how the show makes most of the changes work because it still feels like they get the core of the show and the characters. Which makes sense if Oda was so anal about it and had them change scenes or lines if they didn't feel right for the characters. Oda of all people would know what is or isn't in character for them, so I can feel the way these subtle changes still feel right despite the differences.
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wretchedspecimen · 9 days
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i've been seeing a lot of posts about the way children don't get treated as human beings deserving of respect but i want to talk about the way so many of these negative experiences children have with adults come at the hands of people whose literal job is to deal with children (parents, teachers, healthcare workers etc.)
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animentality · 2 months
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I don't believe the people who say the atla live action show is good.
the most they seem to say is "just turn your brain off and you'll enjoy it-" and "it's for kids! it's supposed to be braindead."
the reason atla has endured as long as it has, is because people are still finding intelligent discourse to have about its mature themes and its thoughtful story and expansive world building. it's a timeless classic because it found a balance between being light hearted and humorous, when appropriate, and completely serious when exploring its darker material. There are no fucking jokes about katara's mom dying or the genocide of the air nomads. but they are a cast of kids/pre teens and they definitely feel like kids. they grow and mature, and they joke around and have a good time, but the fucking show never felt the need to dumb itself down because it thought kids were too fucking stupid to appreciate character growth or a nuanced story.
it's actually embarrassing to be here and say well atla is supposed to be for kids, so having the emotional depth of paw patrol is fine-
I'm so sorry that kids these days can't handle a story about redemption and genocide and imperialism.
I'm so sorry that kids are being fed slop under the guise that they're too stupid to have anything else, because God knows those of us who grew up with avatar sure didn't appreciate how smart it was.
that's why WE STILL TALK ABOUT IT YEARS LATER ACKNOWLEDGING HOW MANY LITTLE THINGS WE BOTH OBSERVED AND MISSED IN THE SERIES WHEN WE ORIGINALLY WATCHED IT.
go ahead, write paw patrol the last airbender.
kids definitely don't need to know what genocide and imperialism are. they're definitely not very fucking relevant topics of the modern day!! god knows American kids in particular shouldn't know how genocides and propaganda and the total annihilation of oppressed cultures work!!
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usedpidemo · 4 months
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Plaid (Newjeans Hanni)
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Hanni Pham is just about the perfect student: consistently top of the class, perennial dean’s lister, well liked among her teachers and peers, an active participant for every co-curricular and extracurricular activity, and overall just a good person to be around.
And you? You’re the exact opposite. Slow, lazy, constantly in self-isolation—always cutting classes whenever you can, struggling with just about everything. You’re surprised you’re still even attending this university as is, despite the countless talks with your professors.
Which is why when she greets you a good morning as soon as you run into each other in the hallway, the books you’ve been carrying crumble like Jenga blocks. 
She immediately jumps into action, picking up your dropped books in record fashion to hand them back to you. The cute, irresistible smile etched on her lips is icing on the cake. 
“Here you go!”
Admittedly, you feel some type of way about Hanni. It’s conflicting, constantly changing. A little bit of jealousy because she’s the student you wished you were, but also a bit of allure because of how surprisingly attractive she is. You’ve never felt any kind of attraction towards anyone in college besides her. And she turns out to be an exchange student, and you’ve never seen anyone with the combination of cuteness and beauty before she came along.
You take a moment to look into her eyes. Those gentle, warm irises perfectly capture the kindness emanating from her—God, why is she so damn irresistible. It isn’t that you’ve been giving her the cold shoulder, but you’re merely apathetic and neutral with her. Outside of the same brief rote exchanges—good morning, what’s your lunch, what are you doing after class later—you and Hanni have been, for the most part, worlds apart. 
The universe is doing its part to bring you two together, because you can feel it. Tension so thin, you can cut it with a knife. 
She never lets up. 
She wants to know you.
“I-uh, thanks,” you say, suddenly averting her gaze to your locker instead as you snatch your books back, then in the other direction. Anywhere but her eyes. 
Fuck. She keeps staring, leaning her head forward with a lively smile, her hands behind her back, waiting for you to continue. She talks with childlike passion and energy, “We have an exam in accounting later, did you study for it?”
“N-no,” you say, almost stuttering through the simplest of responses, as though your tongue is wrapped up in itself. It should be embarrassing for you to act this awkwardly in front of a sweet girl like Hanni. Mentally punching yourself to be better. It never happens. “Not exactly, I kinda forgot.”
More like you willingly neglected your studies for a nightlong gaming session. It’s an addiction.
Her eyes widen with amusement, as if she sees through the lie. Does she? You don’t know. Maybe she does. There’s so many layers to her that you never bothered to uncover. That’s the price for your negligence and decision to be a lone-wolf. 
Hanni reaches her hand into the pocket of her dress shirt and presents a folded up sheet of paper. “Then this with you. Just make sure to hide it underneath the test paper, got it?”
From bewilderment to amazement—your face goes through every emotion, unsure of what would perfectly suit the situation. She doesn’t know you well enough to casually entrust you with a cheat sheet, yet she’s perfectly fine handing it to you over her presumed friends, which includes members of the student council. 
Initially, you hesitate, but she’s steadfast in her position, as if you receiving this paper is doing her a favor. You ultimately fold and accept it from her. She grins as you tuck the sheet away in your coat.
“See you later!” she says, before walking past you to her next class. You slowly turn around, watch her leave and rejoin with her friends, one of whom is the student council head. Alone with nothing but your thoughts, you put the strange encounter aside and get moving again.
—————
The next time you see Hanni again is during world history class, right before lunch. Your rather senile professor, who doesn’t give a shit that half the class is either fast asleep, on the verge of, or doing everything else apart from listening to his monotonous lecture, drones on about Napoleon’s European conquest for the second week in a row. Even the patient student that you are, you’ve grown tiresome of it, especially with the dreadful pacing. You’re way behind schedule. At the very least, he seems to be paid well, so there’s a little silver lining.
Looking at her, you wonder if the gods were in a good mood on the day they made her. She’s as enthusiastic about the topic as if it's her first time hearing it. Listening to every single word intently, taking down notes furiously, taking pictures of the presentation even though she has it projected on her laptop because why the fuck not—she was born to be the teacher’s pet. Compare that to half of the class: even the supposed top student in the class is barely struggling to stay awake, clinging to the edges of her seat out of fear she could collapse from sheer boredom. It’s a miracle, really, that there’s at least one student showing this much interest.
The notion creeps up in your mind: Hanni’s right over there, without a care except for the lecture at hand. Your phone rests on the edge of your chair. Her smile, her shine—you want to keep more than just a mental image of her. Something to actively remind you that someone like her exists. It’s creepy, but it doesn’t matter when no one’s looking, especially not her. Only you. 
Little by little your hand crawls toward the phone. Then the moral compass inside you resists. You don’t know this girl—not in the slightest. Just because of a simple kind act doesn’t mean you’re completely smitten over her. Most importantly, you remember one important point about Hanni: she’s not from here. She’s an exchange student with a one year contract set to expire in—wait for it—two weeks. The semester ends before then, and it’s reasonable to assume she’ll be gone from your life just as quickly as she entered it once the page turns.
Right as the inner conflict inside your head reaches a fever pitch, the bell rings. On one side, you’re celebrating this moral victory; on the other, you’re punching a mental wall for not pulling the trigger. Before the professor even realizes the alarm already sounded off, all the students have filed out of the room in quick succession. 
You briefly consider searching for Hanni in the sea of students making their way around the halls, but seeing that she’s disappeared into the crowd, you decide to let her go. Perhaps the logical side of your brain might be telling you the truth: that she will be a mere afterthought to you after today.
But then there’s the unshakeable, unceasing part of you that refuses to give in. Even as you eat lunch at the corner of the cafeteria, you’re still trying to single out Hanni to no avail. A hopeless situation gradually growing worse with each passing hour. 
A not so subtle tap on your shoulder. Look to your side and there’s your angel, appearing at your hour of need. Hanni.
“Hey! Still have the cheat sheet I gave you earlier?” she asks. A few meters behind her is the student council president, Minji, and her secretary, Danielle, engaged in their own conversation, presumably accompanying their friend.
You scramble to find the folded piece of paper somewhere in your bag, forgetting that you’ve tucked the sheet away deep in your coat. Panicked, you jump from your seat to search within your clothes, still unable to detect its tiny presence hiding in your jacket. “Shit—”
“I can give you another copy if you lost it—”
“I’m sure it’s in here somewhere!” you interject, tonally desperate, repeatedly swiping your fingers on the same pockets with no success. 
Eventually, you frisk the deepest pockets of your coat, feeling something rough on the edge of your fingertips. Reeling it out, you present a folded piece of paper in front of her. It should be a small win, but it’s an embarrassing loss, especially right in front of Hanni.
“Good to know you still have it!” she says, grinning from ear to ear. You’re certain she was trying to suppress her chuckle the entire time, and based on her toothy smile, it’s not very difficult to jump to that conclusion. “Even if you didn’t lose it, I still would have given you another copy if you wanted it.”
“Hanni.” You turn to face her, a complete juxtaposition from her jolly, outgoing personality. Your expression looks stern in searching for answers. “Why are you like this? We barely know each other.”
Surprised by your sudden change in attitude, she takes a step back, pausing to contemplate her answer. Her usually bright demeanor gradually changes to reflect yours. Her smile remains, except it's hiding a little gloom, a little concern. “I just wanted to be kind to you. I saw you were struggling in some of the classes we shared and thought you needed some help. It’s only right to do the right thing, you know?”
In that moment, you regret showing a bit of attitude. Hand to your chest, as guilt occupies your heart and mind. “Oh.” You pause, stare back into those wanting eyes. “I-I guess you were really being kind to me, huh?”
“I don’t make fake answer sheets, let alone give them to people I dislike.” She leans forward, causing you to stagger back, bumping your thighs against the cafeteria stool. “And I like you.”
Your mouth gradually opens, trying to figure out what to say, how to react. Only air and silent noises come out. You genuinely have no idea how to respond to this sudden revelation. It’s not like you’re a popular name among the student body, let alone the ladies; if anything, you were mostly a ghost, only coming into light when needed—and in most cases, when the professors would ask you questions about the topic at hand. 
Blinking rapidly, you needed to do a double take. “Say that again?”
“I like you.” She repeats it for you. Twice. With increasing emphasis on those three words to drive the statement home. “I. Like. You.”
Let that sink in. You still don’t know what to say. “I—”
“We can talk about this later in the afternoon. Meet me at Room 204, okay? I’m in a rush and I just wanted to briefly check on you.” You watch her tone revert back to its beaming, bubbly self with each sentence. Before you even have an opportunity to say anything back, she rejoins her friends and walks away again, waving at you while shouting, “Remember what I told you about the cheat sheet!”
—————
Aside from accounting, where you followed Hanni’s advice down to the letter, the rest of the afternoon kept your thoughts mostly preoccupied with Hanni’s departing words. The two classes you shared with her during that period were opportunities to stare at her, watch her from a distance. Three simple words, and yet there’s layers upon layers to uncover. What did she mean when she said them? You barely interacted for most of the semester, yet she still considers you likable. During those long, painful hours of waiting, your curiosity and anticipation slowly built up.
And then, the bell rings at the top of the seventeenth hour. Time to find out.
While students file out in every direction, celebrating their regained freedom, you make your way through Room 204. Peeking from the outside, you see no one inside, not even Hanni. It looks about the same as when you left it—messy. You’re anxious, hesitant, cautious. There’s a part of you that believes she’s merely playing you in front of her friends, and that she might stand you up as a joke. And you have no reason to believe she genuinely likes you, apart from that one simple act of kindness from earlier.  
For the next few minutes, in those crucial moments of waiting, all your thoughts and presumptions begin waging war inside your head. You have one foot on the door, with the other looking to go home. It’s not the first time you’ve been stood up; you can write an entire thesis report going over each terrible experience and the feeling of bitterness and pining that followed. At the very least, should push come to shove, this wouldn’t be the worst of them—not even bottom five.
So you pace back and forth in front of the designated room, look at your phone, followed by your watch. Again and again. Minutes, stretching to hours, into days, into a slow eternity. You’re starting to lose hope.
Which is why when she comes across you in the hallway, you feel like a kid finding love for the first time all over again. You’re not even trying to hide your excitement. The stunned and relieved expression etched on your lips, the growing shade of red across your face, the hitch in your arms as they reach out to her because you couldn’t believe she would follow through on her word—
And when she flashes her toothy smile, her mouth speaking words you end up missing—you just want to take her by the hand and run away with her.
She ends up calling your name. Twice, thrice, a dozen times—you’re not exactly sure, but you can definitely lose yourself to the sight of Hanni’s presence over and over. With a hand held on the door, she’s telling you to join her inside, saying she has something important to share with you. At least that’s the very gist of it.
At her request, you leave your bag on one of the vacant seats; you end up sharing the same chair. The tension is palpable. Hanni paces back and forth in front of the desk, quietly ruminating, hiding her concerned look away from your eyes. A wakeup call for you that this is a serious matter. You have a lot of unanswered questions, but seeing the gravity of the moment, you conclude that it’s better to keep them to yourself a little while longer—at least once all the heavy air has been cleared. You stand there awkwardly, waiting for her to make the first move.
“I just want to say,” she suddenly says, still turned away from you, long streaks of dark hair covering her eyes. What they can’t hide is the frown on her lips. “I’m going to miss this place. All the profs, all the activities, but most importantly, all the people. Including you.”
“Me?” You’re not surprised at that statement; you’ve assumed she wasn’t going to be here for the long haul, considering she’s an exchange student. What does confuse you, is how she specifically singled you out from everyone else. You barely know each other. At best, you only teamed up for two group projects, which she mostly did the carrying for. For you, the bar has been set very, very low. “How come me?”
Hanni finally faces you, using everything in her willpower not to cry. Her usually lively eyes twinkle with tears waiting to be shed, but she refuses. Not even the warmest of her smiles can hide the somber and pained expression she has looking at you. “Most of the boys here are—excuse my language—a bunch of fucking jackasses and perverts.”
Not exactly wrong; if you weren’t part of an athletics club or hanging out at bars after class, you were likely to be one of their victims. You know this because you are numb to their asshole behavior. The girls would usually retreat in a subtle manner once they knew their presence, which wasn’t difficult to pinpoint.
Rolling your eyes, you reply, “You’re right. I hate their guts too—”
“But you’ve been kind to me from the moment I introduced myself, you know?” Hanni begins to walk toward you, rendering you even more frozen in place. “Even our brief good mornings meant quite a lot. It made me feel welcome.”
You didn’t really think much of it, unaware that it would have this profound of an impact in someone else’s life. And why would you—it’s a habit you’ve been taught since when you were seven. For a moment, you’d think she was being very melodramatic, as if she were practicing theater.
“And—” she pauses, takes a deep breath, “Let’s be honest; I know you like me too.”
When she drops those final words, your eyes pop. Wide. Enough to stretch through your forehead and fly up. It leaves you completely paralyzed. A whole truth bomb dropped just like that. She cusps your hands with hers; you freely allow her. Whether it's from utter shock or the desire to hold her like this for so long, you don’t know, but you definitely want to let this moment linger.
“I-I—” 
You can feel her hot breath against yours, her face inching closer, your bodies almost entangling into something passionate and warm. There’s nothing stopping you both from finally bridging the gap that’s been separating you for the longest time. Hanni, the charming, popular girl that everyone either wants to be friends with or to be her, seemingly knows you like a book read from left to right. More importantly, she likes you. Tells it straight to your face. 
Her arms snake around your neck, leaving you even more suffocated. No longer in her grasp, you find your hands pressed around tiny, fit waist. Her glinting eyes encourage you to let those innermost desires run wild. The suppressed thoughts you’ve been hiding slowly pull you under their influence. You shouldn’t be doing this, yet they’re right there: those sweet, puckery, inviting lips, waiting to be marked, yours and yours alone.
Instead, you end up in a tight embrace. It’s not as romantic as you envisioned. If anything, it’s bittersweet. Deep down, this is her way of saying goodbye, and you’re only realizing what this is really all about. An opportunity to bid farewell on amicable terms. It’s almost cruel that your first substantial interaction outside of school-related activities has to be like this.
You hold on to her tighter. She does the same. You’re unwilling to let go. She doesn’t want to, either.
Resting her head on your shoulder, Hanni whispers in your ear the most calming and soothing tone, ���I’m going to miss you.” 
You don’t believe you’ve earned the right to say those words back. So the only thing you can do is hold on to her the best you can—for dear life.
Outside, the setting sun is gradually fading away, and so does the natural light it brings. You can stay here, from dusk to dawn, comfortable in this position if she wants to. 
She opens her mouth again, and she continues to hum and speak melodies in your ear. “I have one thing I want to do before saying goodbye. Can you help me?”
Without an ounce of hesitation, you nod, saying, “Anything for you.”
Hanni breaks the bear hug then leads you along with her to the desk. With the other hand, she lifts it back to her waist, placing herself in a new and unexpected position: her back arched against the table, with one knee bent beside yours. Her eyes glinting with utter desire, she couldn’t be any more obvious. 
Before the realization fully dawns on you, she does the unthinkable. 
A simple irresistible kiss, pulling you down by the collar of your coat. Next thing you know, you have Hanni’s back crooked further against the edge of the desk, your lip-lock turning more and more passionate. Nothing overly dramatic and sentimental—only passionate love making.
She wants it. Deep down, you want it too.
“I can’t—” you mutter, drawing your breath, pulling your lips away. But not your hands. It’s in Hanni’s custody now. Your coat halfway down your arms, she sneakily tosses it aside. “Not here.”
Surprised by your sudden change of heart, she leans forward, her fingers now pulling at the hem of your sleeves. “What’s wrong?”
“I mean—look around, Hanni. We’re in a goddamn classroom.” 
If only you could throw your arms around in protest to prove a point, but even that wouldn’t save you now.
“This is what I wanted from the start.” Hanni pulls you back in, her eyes hypnotic and irresistible, shining like gold. “You wanted this, too. Don’t play.”
“Hanni—”
She stops you right in your tracks with an impulsive peck on the lips. Curling them through the kiss to form a smile, she murmurs, “Don’t think, just do.”
And you do just that. Kiss her, make out with her as if your life depended on it.
Hanni’s lips taste like they’re meant for you. Sweet like honey. Divine. Heavenly. If it were possible, you’d want to choke on your own breath holding onto them for dear life. Not to mention the hums coming out of her mouth, those subdued mewls that she releases whenever you bite on her bottom lip—you can’t help but sink back in whenever you consider the thought of letting go.
There’s no reason not to; you have this pretty little thing, Hanni Pham, all to yourself. Even your body knows how rare of an opportunity this is. With one hand quietly slipping between her pencil skirt, you navigate your way to the depths of her heat without breaking the kiss. In a flash, she throws her head back, snapping her mouth wide at the new sensation. All that cool, calm expression, gone in an instant.
“Fuck—”
“God, Hanni. You’re so wet.” 
She grabs your wrist—that mischievous hand newly buried in her pussy—and urges you further, “Keep doing that. That felt so good.”
And God, does everything about finger fucking her feel incredible. The satisfying squelch of her cunt as your digits press against her warmth, the continuous twisting of her features as she crumbles from the pleasure, leaving her neck exposed for your lips to newly conquer, adding to the overwhelming sensations coursing all over Hanni’s body. Seeing her, this usually larger than life figure, fall under your spell pushes you even further. 
Like Hanni, you’re still young; there’s only pleasure and the thrill of moving too fast and reckless. One day you’ll end up regretting this, ruminating over memories that could ultimately end you before you even started, but you’d rather take this memento than leave with nothing at all. 
You’re both already past the point of no return. Hanni’s underwear hangs casually between her ankles while they’re wrapped around your waist, her neck filled with bite marks and deep shades of red that no piece of fabric can hide. Her dress shirt is partially unbuttoned, revealing a white camisole desperately seeking to be removed, and if that wasn’t enough, she’s made the crucial decision not to wear a bra today.
Fuck, that bulging ache in your pants is so agitating—both physically and mentally. 
“Wait,” you say, suddenly turning around and locking the door quickly, letting her panties fall freely to the floor. It proves to be a little struggle when you unknowingly use your slick-coated hand over your dry one. 
“Should have done that first,” she playfully chides, chuckling at you.
Returning to her with your drenched fingers pointed in the direction of her pussy, you respond, “Should have chosen anywhere but the classroom.”
“You’re saying you’d rather do this during our Christmas party?” Hanni lifts an eyebrow, taunting.
“Only if they allowed it.”
“And all those cheat sheets I handed you, all that for nothing?”
“Shut up. Didn’t need them, anyway.”
Hanni can’t help but burst into boisterous laughter. There’s no use locking that door now.
Even with the little time spent together, there’s clearly magic between you, the signs of what should have been a beautiful relationship. If only you both knew that. But now’s not the time to go over what ifs—only what’s next.
She stops you right as you ready yourself, grabbing the top button of your shirt. Using only her expressive eyes for approval, you steadily watch on till they’re completely undone. You’re left with the job of removing your undershirt and helping her toss your clothes aside. On the other hand, you’re in no rush to undress her completely; she’s a perfect mess as is with her unbuttoned uniform, her panties somewhere between your feet, and her taut nipples poking through the fabric. 
And Hanni wants it that way. You’ve barely entertained the idea of running your fingers through her skirt when she interrupts your train of thought. 
“You haven’t done it yet,” she says looking at your greedy, grubby hands, directing them with hers underneath her garment. “Make me cum. Please.”
As if you had any other intention. Maybe with something better, but that’s usually saved later—and for good reason.
You’re trying so hard not to curse through gritted teeth. Fuck. This. Damned. Skirt. Admittedly, it’s cute and perfectly suits Hanni; it adds to the appeal of seeing this usually meek, well behaved student asking for something more than naughty—it’s downright criminal—but you need to see what makes her really tick. Hanni’s clicking her tongue, growing more frustrated by the second than you are, anxiously waiting for you to come through. Carefully, you push a finger into her, then another, moving in delicate and systemic motion.
Then, it all clicks in perfect harmony:
She releases this pent-up moan from the depths of her chest, as though it were a heave of relief. The initial plunge from earlier makes plunging between her slick folds so much easier. You take a moment to let the satisfying sound sink in: the wet slop of her cunt as it reflexes against your fingers, unable to keep yourself from moaning with delight before you slowly draw back, then in again. 
From there, everything takes care of itself.
Hanni dissolves into a whimpering mess, under the hypnotic spell of your fingers fucking her pussy in tempered, intricate strokes, effortlessly and handily. Body shaking, desk quivering under the pressure of her weight, her hands struggling to find reprieve from the overwhelming sensations thundering all over her. She can barely breathe, let alone find the words to speak. Only quick curses. Each and every word so gratifying to hear.
“Fuck—fuck—its—its—so—good—more—”
You don’t give her any breathing room. In the brief moments when you lax, with your fingers either motionless deep within her cunt or pull back, leaving marks on her inner thighs with her own slick, you’re all over her, gently fondling her and kissing her. Half her uniform’s sleeve has fallen down her shoulder, giving you more of her body for you to claim as your own. With every little touch and thing you do, you continue to set her nerves ablaze with nothing to quench her lust.
It’s no wonder she’s such a teacher’s pet; she loves to follow along without any resistance or objection. A fact proven when you lift her undershirt to expose her taut nipples, and your free hand impulsively takes them. You give her left tit a twist, and from her needy lips comes a sharp whine. 
“Do it again,” she says, panting, nodding her head wildly, visibly overwhelmed. She doesn’t know what hit her, but it feels fucking amazing.
Of course, you wouldn’t pass up the opportunity, even if she hadn’t asked. Hanni’s body, all yours for the taking. Not everyone can say they fucked the top girl in the class in the classroom of all places.
And you let your body do all the talking. No amount of words nor their depth can adequately describe the sensation of tasting and feeling her figure. First your free fingers, then your tongue—they make their mark on her chest while your other digits crawl to a lazy pace inside her cunt. Not that she minds—she’s too engrossed in the blissful sensation to remotely care. Her hands find their way around your neck and back, scratching and digging away at your skin in an attempt to pull you even closer.
It aches—but not as much as the ache in Hanni’s core. As you inch her closer to climax, you can feel her tremble, propping her head on your shoulder now as her outlet, whimpering, crying, mewling. “Almost—” she mumbles, before she’s caught up again in the sea of her own pleasure. Knowing this, the rest of your body moves like it’s second nature. Faster and deeper, you continue your endless assault on her body, until—
Suddenly, Hanni freezes up, moans over your ear as a moment of silent calm follows. In the succeeding moments, you both remain clung together as her orgasm hits. And by god, it hits her like lightning. Sharp and brutal. Fingers stuck deep in her core as she gushes, quivers all over them. It lingers, leaves you both incapacitated.
Minutes that could easily stretch into hours, stuck on a desk, basking in the afterglow of unadulterated bliss. Eventually, she lifts up her head and lets out a deep breath of relief. Her hands remain entangled with your hair as she pulls herself back. A scope down gives you a short but telling extent of the damage: copious amounts of slick dripping on the edge of the table, down to the floor. You’re a little terrified of what your fingers will look like.
Through half-lidded eyes, Hanni flashes you a smile as she slowly realizes the mess she has become. Cheeks flustered with embarrassment, she quickly pushes down her undershirt, but they can’t hide her nipples’ rigidness. You’re both grinning at each other like mischievous pranksters. Something tells you that despite everything, it’s not enough. The fire in her eyes and the confidence in her laugh says it all: she’s looking for more trouble, and one way or another, you’re gonna be her accomplice.
Before you can even utter a word, you both hear a knock on the door. Through the casted silhouette, you recognize that it’s a janitor. Spent energy be damned, you’re brought back to reality. You quickly turn to Hanni in a state of alarm, “Shit. I told you not told to do this in the classroom—”
Reaching out her hand, she replies, “It’s gonna be fine! Give me my bag and I’ll get us out of this.” 
You immediately rush Hanni her bag, and while you hastily put yourself back in one piece, she grabs a pack of tissues to clear all evidence of your little escapade. In no time, you’ve somehow returned the place in nearly the same position you found it. Only one difference: her panties are left on the floor, and she hasn’t bothered to pick them up.
“Wait, your underwear—” you tell her as you pick them off the floor. She’s already on the edge of the classroom, opening up one of the windows to escape. It’s not a suicide jump; only someone with brittle bones could possibly break their legs doing the drop, and there’s really no other choice: run away with her or find yourself at the dean’s office on your first day back after the holidays.
“Keep it if you want.” Hanni shoots you a playful wink and a cheeky grin as she lifts one leg over the open window. “We don’t have much time, so unless you wanna explain yourself to the profs—”
“I’m already in trouble regardless,” you reply as you join her on the way out. You didn’t need to think about what to do. “Got eight missed phone calls from my fam. I’m fucked regardless. Might as well make the most of our time while we’re here.”
—————
A/N: Happy new year! I never thought I’d write something for NewJeans, but never say never. Hanni was easily the scene stealer for me at the Asia Artist Awards, she and the other members constantly waved at us from beginning to end, and they were killer performers! I can see why she’s so adored; she’s both talented and adorable. It’s been difficult getting back into writing after one month away, so this definitely is a feel-out attempt, but I hope it’s still good anyway. Here’s to the coming year and hopefully more to come. Thanks for reading!
P.S. I sincerely want to take this moment to apologize for my slow production. As previously mentioned, I got hit with a severe case of the flu, which kept me down for almost two weeks. Since recovering, I’ve been experiencing weird cases of brain fog, where sometimes my mind ‘isn’t there’ and it feels like my body’s been moving on autopilot. I’ve been getting healthier since then, but the so-called absentmindedness still remains. I’ve tried writing a few times since then, and it honestly feels like I’ve forgotten how to write. Hell, this fic was supposed to be out on Christmas day and I’ve struggled to put it together! It’s been very rough. I don’t wanna make promises because I’ll just end up breaking them, so I’ll just say that I’m trying my damned hardest to get back to that level I had been moving before my momentum stalled. I always want to deliver the best possible fic for you to enjoy. Thank you so much for being patient with me as always <3
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kalki-tarot · 11 days
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THINGS YOU CARRIED FROM YOUR PREVIOUS LIVES ⚖️
Please read : This is just a general reading and may not be 100% true all the times. Please use your brain before making any decisions. Kalki tarot is not responsible for your actions and life decisions.
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PICK ONLY ONE PICTURE AND ALLOW ME TO TAP INTO YOUR ENERGY.
Pile 01
I can see you lived by a river, it seems to be the country side. Green grass and shallow wind is what I feel where you belonged. Your sense of belonging in nature comes from this lifetime. You felt comfortable laying over the grass and just looking at the clouds. You were an innocent human being. Your heart held deep sense of purity for everyone and everything. You belonged to a foreign country, different from where you are right now.
I'm getting one more lifetime for you, where you wanted to be a saint or a nun or something like that. You wanted to attain moksha so you decided to take necessary actions but your responsibilities held you down. You could not leave your family or responsibilities i guess.
Your were an emotionally intelligent human being. It can be your gift in your current lifetime to be knowledgeable about spirituality and mysticism. You were born with healing abilities and you may also be a psychic.
Another gift you carried in this lifetime is of alchemy. You may be interested into witchcraft and rituals. Try to practice it more, it will really work well for you. Don't use it for bad things though. You have the power to create and manipulate energies. Your soul possesses infinite knowledge about spiritual. Unlock your hidden potential for its best use.
One more thing I'm seeing is that you carried a lot of burdens too from your previous life. Some traumas or fears, it can be anything. This is the reason why your psychic gifts were blurred or you were just not able to believe in your self, you have wounds from past life too. Healing is needed.
Pile 02
Dear Pile 2, you were someone very helpful and empathetic in your previous life. You were a gentle human being, you may have active water placements in your chart which influence you the most. You were and still are someone very deep and emotional. You understand people around you but sometimes you feel misunderstood. You feel different from everybody else. Yes you are different and it's not bad to be different. You are indeed a very special human being.
In your previous life too, you were a nice person and you did many humanitarian works. All the good karma you did is coming back to you in this lifetime. Please don't let your pure soul get corrupted or influenced by negative people. You often struggle with patience, you get anxious and restless when things don't go as you planned or when you don't see results when you want it. This is what you carried in this lifetime too. Work on having patience. You will definitely reap the fruits of your labour, but before accepting divine timing only!
Again with the fool card, your energy is very restless and childlike. You have the curiosity of a child and you crave adventurous things in life. You can't sit at one place for a long time. But this over restlessness may make you do foolish things. You should try to shift your energy from wasting it on useless things to creating something with your creative mind. You are someone who can build a castle in the sky. What i mean is you have the potential to start from scratch and turn it into something big. Use your energy here rather than doing foolish things.
You were like a wise sufi saint in your past life and you've also carried a lot of wisdom from there. Sometimes you go like where am i even getting these wise thoughts from lol. Yes! You are a street smart person. Use your potential to create something big.
Pile 03
You were someone who used to run behind success. You had or still have a fear of failing and that comes from your past life. You were in a high position in your previous life and you constantly used to work hard for keeping up or maintaining what you had.
You lacked the need to rest. And due to this you became a little too much workaholic. You were too much indulged in your work life that you kind of forget your presonal life and relationships. You will be forced to address the fear of failure in this lifetime too.
And the karma for not addressing your personal relationships is that you will not have any genuine connections in this lifetime. But don't worry, once you accept balance in your life and address your mistakes, things will start aligning for you.
Have a balanced approach and towards work and personal life. Don't be too rational, listen to your head anf heart both. And try not to force yourself to work hard. You will not fail! Don't worry.
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i-drop-level-one-loot · 8 months
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Smile❤️ (Yandere X Loser!Reader)
Micky thought that he couldn't feel love.
Ever since he could remember, Micky couldn't connect with anyone on an emotional level. Even his own family members were like aliens to him, creatures that stretched their lips into strange contortions, ETs that became unreasonable when he wouldn't do the same. As a teenager many girls flirted with him in school, hell, a few guys did as well, but none of their confessions ever stirred any emotion from him, even at the height of his puberty. The smiles of the people around him never felt warm or welcoming. Just, tight. Cheeks pulled back, revealing teeth, expecting him to mirror their action, and Micky couldn't understand why.
Nothing made him smile.
College was further isolating. Group projects seemed to no longer be a thing, (at least in the classes he took) so his interactions with humans slowly became less frequent, making his classmates look more inhuman and monstrous.
Until someone in his college was doxxed for being a creep. It was interesting, watching how quickly people turned on their friend, forcing him into an outcast because someone online revealed his private post history.
An annoying young woman in his language arts class gathered people around Micky's seat to talk about what had happened. Micky wouldn't have searched up the drama on his own time, but he didn't see the point in pushing everyone away.
"This user on Xforums, anonymousXnightmare is the one who doxxed Nathan."
AnonymousXnightmare? How fucking lame.
"That's a lame username..."
"Maybe it's a kid..?"
Micky did his best to ignore them, but the username kept popping up in conversation throughout campus. It was getting a little annoying. Some people were mocking the name, while others were praising the "internet hero". It started interfering with his ability to focus in his classes.
But the gossip cooled down after a week, and life began to run as normal, until another student had their life ruined. A football player, they didn't post anything incriminating or disturbing. It was anonymousXnightmare who posted their own collected evidence. Pictures taken from afar of the player with his highschool sweetheart, as in sweetheart who was still in highschool. Recordings of the two of them. Months of stalking all compiled by the stranger.
Again, Micky was bombarded by chatter, excitable young adults losing their minds over the situation. It was... irritating.
Back in his dorm room, Micky was scrolling through Xforums, the most popular forum used by students in his university, made by students for students, searching for the loser with the lame username. Scrolling past the photos he had heard about, he found a post stating
"Dear Allen Brackens, if you cannot stop blasting your shitty music in the halls on your shitty speakers, I WILL ruin your life!"
and Micky had to lean back, to just take in what he had read. That must have been the name of the football player. What he was doing was genuinely gross, and should have been exposed by someone. But did this poster really stalk them for what looked like months just because he listened to music they didn't like?
It was so dumb.
He scrolled down farther into the mystery poster's history, to the first man they doxxed.
"Dear Nathan McAllister, we all know you're a two faced little bitch. Either stop littering the campus with your Jesus pamphlets, or else..."
Micky, for the first time in his life, was amused. The whole situation was so stupid. They really ruined their fellow students lives, just because they annoyed them?
He made an account just to follow his mystery poster, not sure yet why he was interested to see what they would post next.
Less than two days later, and Micky's phone notified him of another post.
"Dear Samantha Rudbeckia, your obnoxious laughter is driving me insane. Can't you see how annoying you are? Knock it off."
That was it?! That was enough to set you off? Laughter? Micky paused mid step, still staring down at his phone. Something felt off about his face. It hurt.
It was pretty easy to find anonymousXnightmare in his school. Micky picked up a map of the university, and mapped out the paths of the three people targeted. They ran into a lot of different students throughout their day. But they only ran into a couple of people who openly seemed to hate them, and only one of those people was a student named (Reader). (Reader), who constantly appeared as though they would collapse at any moment, the hollows under their eyes so dark they looked sickly. (Reader), who despite being borderline anemic, was very sneaky, and very good and being unnoticeable despite their extreme appearance. Unfortunately for them, they had someone watching them as closely as they watched their victims bullies. Micky watched as they stealthily snapped photos of students from around corners, how they seemed to blend into the background and nobody noticed them hiding in waiting.
Micky felt ashamed for ever thinking you were lame. You were.. cute.
The way you crouched like a bug, hunched over like a roly poly scared of being picked up. The way you bit your dry lips in anger to the point they bled.
Micky's face hurt more and more. Every time he saw (Reader) a pain he had never felt before would strain at his cheeks, and his face would feel hot all over. It wasn't until he caught a glimpse of himself in his reflection in a window that Micky realized he was smiling. He never knew that smiling hurt. But he couldn't stop it.
Pictures and videos of Samantha and her married professor were posted online, and Micky was excited to know what (Reader's) face would look like when they reaped the fruits of their labor. But when he snuck into their classroom, zooming in on their exhausted face with his phone's camera, he felt a new emotion seeing that (Reader) was just as annoyed as they always were. A hard pit fell from his ribs into his lower stomach. He was disappointed.
Why aren't you happy? You won. You should be rejoicing right now.
He felt conflicted and confused. Like an octopus was throwing a tantrum in his abdomen, squirming uncomfortably. And it ruined his day. Micky couldn't focus on any of his classes, and the rest of his day was like a foggy dream. What was it about (Reader) that attracted him to them so much?
A cute young woman with smooth black hair approached Micky, a dark blush complimenting her picture perfect face.
"Um, excuse me? Excuse me? Excuse me?"
Micky snapped out of his thoughts, turning his gaze down towards the beautiful person. Her rosey lips were slightly upturned in a posed way.
She's smiling.
Micky internally verbalized it. The same way he did whenever he saw anyone smiling. It never looked good. Smiling was so awkward, and strange. People loved seeing others smiling, and smiled when they were happy, but it always reminded Micky of how not one of them he was.
"Hi! My name is Maggie."
I don't care.
"We have econ together?"
"Okay."
Why was seeing her smile make her look fake, inhuman, alien? Just like everyone else. Then why was Micky so let down seeing (Reader's) lukewarm reaction to their victory?
"I was wondering, I mean, (laughs), a group of us are going out for drinks later, and we, I was wondering if you wanted to come with us.."
She giggled nervously, fiddling her fingers and biting her lip. The image of (Reader) practically eating their lower lip was triggered like a trap. This woman, whose name wasn't worth remembering, made Micky feel nothing. The uncanny feeling of speaking with a living mannequin or an advanced AI. Her movements weren't natural, her smile was just a contraction of muscles. Then, like an epiphany, Micky realized all at once what made (Reader) so special.
Maybe, it wasn't that everyone else was alien, but Micky. Micky was the only one who never fit in. The only one who didn't feel emotions or connect with others like everyone else could. And there was a bug walking around in human clothes, barely staying awake in class and casually ruining peoples' lives simply because they annoyed them. (Reader) wasn't a human either, just like Micky. That's why they didn't seem happy with their victory. Why would a human bring them joy?
Micky's lips pulled tight, smiling brightly at the young woman before walking away without saying a word.
You're the first person to make me feel, because you're just like me. Right, (Reader)? If no one but you can make me feel, then no one but me should be able to make you smile!
:::::::::::::::::::::::::
(Reader) slouched over their laptop, their messy hair pulled back in a top bun just to keep their untrimmed bangs out of their eyes in the privacy of their dorm, eating another cup of noodle while reading all of their "fan mail". Samantha wasn't getting kicked out like they had hoped, but Professor what's-his-nuts did get canned, so hopefully when Samantha comes back to class she'll be too busy sobbing "woe is me" to find anything funny.
Ba-ding♪
A private message popped up from an account with an automated username.
(Reader) snorted so hard a noodle went up into their sinuses.
user01793664544001: I know who you are <3
"Ah-ow! God damn!"
anonymousXnightmare: Who the fuck is this?
user01793664544001: ur prince charming <3
anonymousXnightmare: Don't fuck with me
user01793664544001: come find me
"Watch me, bitch."
Looking up IP addresses is a lot easier than people make it seem. It doesn't take a genius hacker to doxx someone. Of course, (Reader) goes above and beyond, often following assholes for months to collect evidence of their douche baggery. (Reader) got an address in less time than it took to finish their noodles, and took down their hair, quickly setting out to start getting information on their newest "bully".
The address took them to another dorm across campus. How dumb are they? (Reader) faux chuckled, feeling superior to this newest dick. No one was quite as smart as them.
As they crept through the building, no one payed them any attention as they began taking notes on the residents. It had to be one of these losers.
They didn't have a chance to fight back, as they passed one of the rooms the door opened and pulled them inside faster than they had a chance to scream. The man who abducted (Reader) wrestled them to the floor, panting heavily.
(Reader) glared up at the handsome stranger, smiling down at them in a creepy way, his cheeks twitching like he had never smiled before, like his face hurt from the small action. His face was pink and he was sweating, panting with a feverish moisture glazing his eyes.
"Aren't you happy? You found me~"
"G-Get off of me, you pervert!" (Reader) attempted to kick the kidnapper off of them.
This wasn't the answer he was looking for. His smile fell briefly before bouncing back.
"You're just upset because you don't know me yet. Don't worry, it took me a while to realize you and I were the same species as well, so don't worry. I'll wait, I'll wait for you to realize you love me too..."
He rambled quickly, pressing harder against (Reader's) body. A strange noise squeaked out of his throat as he seemed startled, (Reader) feeling a bulge form against their upper thigh.
"Ah, I'll wait.. I'll wait for you to love me too.. but I need you to do something for me while I wait.."
Micky stuck his fingers in (Reader's) mouth, pulling their dry lips out till they bled across his skin.
"Smile for me..."
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firstfirerebel · 8 months
Text
𝕳𝖎𝖘
Sumary: Tom Riddle is obsessed with reader and won't tolerate her being somewhere else than his side (Reader is against the hate on Muggles or Muggle-Born wizards)
Pairing: yandere Adult!Tom Riddle/Voldemort x fem! reader
Warnings: Dark content, obsession, mention of the three Unforgivable Curses, implied kidnapping, death, yandere, toxic behavior
Time: First Wizarding War (meaning Voldemort/Tom is still a normal man)
English is not my native language!
I DO NOT SUPPORT OR ROMANTICIZE YANDERE BEHAVIOR!!!
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"Why won't you just understand that all I want to do is create a new world, a better one. One were you, and I will rule together!"
"But I don't want that! In fact, I don't even want to be near you! I'll never join you nor support you. Just give up already and let me free!"
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It was another day in the Malfoy Manor where you were captured by none other than the dark lord himself. And another day, where you just hoped to escape or die. Sounds harsh? Listen to your story first...
You have known Tom since your Hogwarts time. You weren't in the same house but in the same year, and even though you weren't close, you did happen to have some lessons together. Never you would've considered him a friend. He was just a classmate who sometimes helped you with potions, and in your free time, you sometimes met him in the libary by coincidence, but that was it.
Yeah, you did find him attractive, but you would have never thought to date him or something like that. After all, he always wanted to be alone and didn't like company. You also preferred being alone, to be honest. Still, he somehow scared you from the beginning. His eyes hold no emotions, but in his actions and his aura, all you felt or saw was pure hate. Tom didn't talk about his past, but he didn't have to for you to figure out that it must have been no good one.
Once you were in sixth grade, attacks on muggle-born students happened, and in the end, Myrtle, who was a friend of yours, was killed.
Yeah, she was very difficult , but she didn't mean any harm towards anyone. Besides that, she was bullied by so many students that you just felt pity for her. You were also bullied in your first years at hogwarts until the students stopped out of nowhere. Since then, you have had problems with being social. Most people who were close with you ended up using you for their own benefits or saw you as their therapist or something like that.
Okay, Myrtle was known for being over sensitive, but still, if people knew she would cry because of mean comments, then why make them? She was in her third year when she died, and she only flew to the girls' toilet because Olive Hornby made fun of her again, which made you more sad about her death. It's not like she chose to have glasses. What was wrong with some people?
In the end, Riddle accused Hagird of being responsible for her death. Only you and Proffesor Dumbledore were convinced that it couldn't have been Hagrid. He was way too nice and kind-hearted for such a terrible crime as murder. Though you didn't think it was Tom either.
But it didn't matter. Hagrid was suspended, and that was the end of it.
Since that time, you didn't trust Tom Riddle anymore. He was the one who made everyone believe that Hagird was guilty. And somehow, since the incident, Tom's aura has become even more intimidating and dark. At least that's how it felt to you...
Once you graduated, you didn't hear of him again, which didn't bother you at all. You lived a peaceful life for a long time. You loved your job. You had true friends. You could do your hobbies. And sometimes you even went on a few dates.
But, if it would have stayed that way, you wouldn't be at Voldemorts' side against your will, would you?
The day that ruined your life was a rainy day. It wasn't too cold nor too warm, so you decided to take a walk in the nearby woods. You loved to spend your time there. All the creatures and plants fascinated you every time without fail. Sometimes, you even saw unicorns, which felt like a miracle everytime Besides, it was one of the last peaceful places left.
War would soon come. It was only a matter of time. Everybody knew that. Maybe you only had two months left, or you still got two years. No one knew except the ones on Voldemorts side.
At that time, you only knew that 'The Dark Lord' was a user of the dark arts. And he hated Muggles and Muggle-Borns. Which was enough for you to despite him. Dark magic was never something you approved, and you didn't care about the blood status of anyone. What mattered to you was always the person.
Usually, the woods were filled with life and joy, but that day was different. The forest looked intimidating from the outside, and you even thought about going back home.
Sadly, you didn't listen to your inner voice. But, it wouldn't have changed your fate...
Once you entered it, you didn't hear the happy cheers of the birds like always. And you didn't see any nifflers running by or other creatures in general. Something was definitely wrong.
But you continued to walk, which would soon turn out to be a fatal mistake. As soon as you reached the river, that was in the forest, you realized why everything was so different than usual.
Death Eaters had chased and killed a Muggle-Born witch with her family. They were on a camping trip, as you could tell from the scenery. But there was still a girl, most likely two or three years old, still alive.
Without a second thought, you hid behind a big tree and some bushes around it.
It seemed like the Death Eaters didn't know what to do with her. Maybe she wasn't part of the plan? At first, you thought that this was not an important mission for them, but then you saw Bellatrix. She was very well known as Voldemorts' right hand. She personally learned dark magic from him and was definitely the most loyal Death Eater there ever was. So this must be a really important matter.
You couldn't stand her guts and wanted nothing more than to just slap her even if you didn't know her in person. Dark magic wasn't something you supported. But still, you couldn't deny that she was dangerous and powerful. Her madness didn't lower that fact.
Since dying wasn't on your to-do lost today, you ran away as fast as you could. Since they were arguing so loud, they didn't hear you. Of course, you wanted to help the little girl, but it was simply impossible to get her without getting caught. And against a whole troup of Death Eaters with one being BELLATRIX, you didn't stand a chance.
But luck wasn't on your side...
As you ran away from the horrible scene, you ran into a Death Eater. They wore their typical black clothes and their mask was on, so you didn't see who it was.
Before you could grab your wand, you heard an angry mumbled 'stupor'. You fell onto the ground and blacked out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When you awoke, you didn't dare to open your eyes. After all, you got caught by a death eater, so you being alive was a miracle. You didn't hear any voices around you. It also wasn't cold and wet around you, so being locked up in a cellar wasn't the case as well...
Beneath you was a comfortable mattress. It was soft and made you want to fall asleep on it. But what the hell was this all about?!
If you're caught by the bad guys, you normally don't wake up in a soft bed. Did they bring you back home? No, that would be too risky. Maybe they wanted some information, but you weren't really someone well known in the wizarding world.
Patiently, you waited a few more minutes, but still not even the slightest noise. So you opened your eyes.
You were in a dark room. The main colors were black and dark green. Black wardrobes and black walls. The bed was made of black wood, but the sheets were dark green, the big carpet on the floor as well. No one was with you in this room. Desperately, you wanted to know where you were. From the colors, you would have guessed that it was a Slytherin Dormitory in Hogwarts. But kidnappers don't bring you to your old school!
Scared you inspected the room once again. Nothing was familiar...
You took a deep breath and stood up. If you would die, fine, but as long as you had the slightest chance of escape you would take it.
The carpet felt also really expensive beneath your feet. By the way, your kidnappers were so nice to pull off your shoes before laying you into bed...
Everything in this room seemed to be just made for this specific room. Which frightened you even more.
Suddenly, the door was opened, and you saw a pretty woman (walking down the street 🤣) in the doorframe. She was slim and tall, had long blonde hair that was tied up in a bun. Her tight dress was rose gold with a black cloak over it. All in all, she looked like a wealthy woman. Her face was pretty as well, but she looked like she got a dung under her nose. Weird.
"Get up and follow me, My Lady," her cold and clear voice told you.
"Uhm, I'm not your Lad -" but she was already on her way to your goal. You had no clue where it was, but following her was better than sitting around, right?
"I know this must be really confusing, but our Lord will explain it to all of us soon. I was just told to get you and call you that. Now, please, don't make this harder for us than it already is,"
You managed to catch up to her. Now you also saw that her eyes were ice blue. Matching her cold voice.
"Who are you?" you asked softly. Kowing her name could be a good hint to where you were.
"Narcissa Black, soon to be Narcissa Malfoy," the woman didn't look at you for one second, her eyes were focused on the walls. So you were still in the claws of the death eaters. Family Black was well known for their puryity, not a family you would have gotten along with.
The corridor was huge by the way. Dark colors still dominating. Only the chandelier was white. Did this belong to one person or was it the headquarters of Voldemort and his minions or what? Instead of getting awnsers you only got more questions as you walked after Narcissa.
Downstairs. A few steps upstairs again. Left. Left again. Right. Straight forward. The second right.
Was this a house or a Labyrinth?! How were you supposed to find your way in here? You even got lost in Digeon Ally!
But after what felt like an internity, you both reached a large black table, people gathered around it. A tall man stood up from his chair as he heard you two enter. As he turned around, you saw your old classmate Tom Riddle, but if he was here, he wouldn't help you. If he became a death eater, he was behind after everything you swore to fight. He wasn't an ally or a friend anymore. He was a danger and a threat to you and many innocent people who weren't here.
You tried to hide behind Narcissa. After all, she was the only person who seemed at least a little trustworthy, and she was another woman. Maybe she knew how unsafe you felt because mostly men were in this room. The only other woman was a mad Bellatrix, never ever you would trust her.
"Ah, there they are. Come in, " Tom spoke. His voice had changed, and it was more intimidating than it was before.
You didn't move an inch, but Narcissa started to move forward. Being all alone without someone to hide behind was more scarry, so you followed her, but you were still behind her.
"Oh no, don't be afraid. No one here will even dare to glare at you, my dear. They knew the punishment would be worse than death," You couldn't recognize Tom anymore. The hate in his presence, his voice, his appearance, everything scared you. Back in school, you didn't fear him, at least not for his house or his roots. Just because he was a Slytherin, it didn't mean that he was evil, but now? His opinions were completely different than yours, and this was not a stupid novel of the stereotype enemies to lovers cause he was just plain and simple wrong with his thoughts on muggleborn or muggles in general.
[Funfact: I don't get the hype on this topic, see, for being autistic I got bullied for many years and than reading a story about two people hating each other's guts and than falling for each other just feels wrong for me, you can read whatever you want ofc, this was just my unpopular opinion]
Still, you hid behind Narcissa, but as she tried to go towards a man with long blonde hair and her crazy sister, you felt completely defenseless. The only person you used to know seemed to be the head of everything here, and Narcissa wasn't at your side anymore. Sadly, Tom saw your fear. He went towards you and pulled you in an unwanted hug. Softly, he petted your hair and whispered sweet nothings. As soon as this horror hug ended, he smiled at you and turned towards the others.
"If anything should happen to her, everyone will be held responsible! You know the punishment, now go! We are done here!" As the last word fell, everyone disapparated, and only you and him were left.
And then you realized it. If he could order the death eaters around, he must be the dark lord himself. Tom Riddle, your old classmate, was Voldemort.
You backed away from him but regretted it soon. Tom didn't take rejection good...
"Why are you scared? I won't harm you. In fact, I am the one who has kept you safe since I saw you!"
"Are you mad?!" You yelled back into his already mad face. Wrong choice again. In full rage he stormed through the room and kicked everything in his way. Chairs and even the whole table practically flew through the room.
"Who protected you from those bullies back in Hogwarts?! Who kept you safe from all filthy boys who just wanted to break your heart?! Who killed the mudblood Myrtle so you were safe from her?!"
So Dumbledore was right... Tom opened the chamber of secrets all those years ago. And killed your friend.
"Myrtle was my friend! I never asked for your personal protection, Tom!"
Somehow that calmed him down! Yep, that man was a complete psychopath...
"But you didn't have to, my dear", he ran towards you and cupped your cheek while looking into your eyes.
"Keeping you safe will always be my priority. I loved you the moment I laid eyes on you and I knew that I would always protect you. Look around, here in our mansion you will always be safe. No one will ever harm you again. We'll be safe here! After I've won this war you and I can live here in peace. Just imagine it, I'll make us so many horcruxes that we won't ever die. Here we will raise our kids and they'll never go through the pain of being an orphan like I was", pain and hate was in his voice at the simple thought of 'death' and 'orphan'. But having a family with this insane man? Hell nah, you'd flee the moment you got the chance!
"I know now this is scary for you, and you might think of escaping, but this whole mansion is surrounded by death eaters, the moment you even think of fleeing you'll be brought to your room and trust me, I know how to punish or torture someone so that no mistace will ever happen again",
And that's how you ended up here. Behind you was the man that claimed to love you fast asleep. Yet he was the one who made you go through all of this. Most traumas you had were because of his action. If this was love, than you could already drown in it.
You had no idea if you could ever escape or if even the try of escaping was a good idea. This man wasn't well known for his kindness or his patience.
Maybe playing along would make it easier, but would your mental health take that well? Or would that make him do worse things 'out of love'?
Still, you rethought your first actions towards Tom, trying to figure out what made his obsession start. Was it your look? Your hairstyle? Your body language?
Or was it just being unlucky?
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delirious-donna · 16 days
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A Kiss But At What Cost? [Part Seven]
story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.
chapter summary: The time calls for a movie night and one you’ll be sure to rope Kento into. A good old-fashioned slasher movie sounds just right, but how will the end of the night go once you’re all spooked out?
pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader
warnings: SFW, fluff, two oblivious idiots, yet more emotions, bad communication, mentions of horror movies and tropes, if you can tell me what the movie at the end is you get a gold star
Part Six | Series Masterlist | Part Eight
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Popcorn? Check. Cozy blanket? Acquired.
“Hm…” You hummed quietly, turning on the spot in the living room. The lights were set low, the thickest of the blankets from the basket in the corner ready for you to crawl beneath for your movie night, but something was missing.
A drink, of course.
Padding back into the kitchen, you bent your head to investigate the contents of the fridge, debating on a Diet Coke or a beer. The noise of someone clearing their throat made you jump, bumping your head into the door of the fridge in the action of whirling around.
“Ouch!”
Kento winced before quickly schooling his features into neutrality. You turned with a frown etched on your brow, and he couldn’t blame you for it this time. Moving forward, he stood by your side to reach inside and a grab out a bottle of beer, popping the top easily.
Your scowl deepened, more annoyed at the flutter in your stomach at his ease of opening the beer without even looking at the damn thing. “Aren’t you going to apologise?”
“Sorry,” he said with a shrug. “I didn’t think you’d still be so jumpy this far into our little arrangement.” He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a quick sip, eyes moving to the ceiling which presented you with the open opportunity to watch whilst his throat worked to swallow the frothy liquid, his Adam’s apple bobbing deliciously.
“Yeah yeah, whatever.”
A thought leapt from the recesses of your brain, and your pout turned into a wicked smile before he could blink. How would mr ‘stick-in-the-mud’ cope with a couple of scary movies? It would be beyond hilarious if he turned out to be a scaredy cat given his imposing stature and presence, and the chance to find out was too delicious to pass up.
“Got plans this evening?” you asked with an expression you hoped looked nonchalant. Before he could answer, you pulled out a can of Diet Coke and cracked open the ring pull with a low hiss.
“None to speak of. Why?”
Your hand linked through his arm with a wide grin, pulling him away from the kitchen to the cozy little nook you’d crafted for your movie spree. You gestured towards it with a theatrical “ta dah” and glanced up to meet eyes of hazel alight with confusion and a hint of intrigue, if you weren’t much mistaken.
“What’s this? You’ve made a… nest on my couch,” Kento guessed, scanning the bowl of popcorn and bar of unopened chocolate resting on the faraway arm. He wasn’t so stupid not to realise that this was clearly a movie night, but he was doing his damnedest not to think too much about your hand curled around his bicep. One wrong move and you might take that touch away, and he didn’t want that, not yet.
“Wow. Don’t tell me you didn’t watch movies with Karin growing up, because I know it’ll be a lie. That girl is more of a film buff than I am, no way you escaped that.”
Kento scoffed. “You’re correct. I did not escape, though there were many times I sorely wish I had. If I have to watch When Harry met Sally one more time, I might do something drastic,” he admitted with a laugh.
“Not a fan of romcoms, Nanami?”
“I didn’t say that, and it’s Kento, stop changing it back. There are a few that I can…” He paused, searching for the right word. “Tolerate, I guess.”
Your eyebrows rose in clear curiosity. Slipping your hand out of his arm, you rounded the couch and settled next to your snacks to pat the seat next to you in invitation. Kento swallowed, a wash of heat licking up both sides of his neck and he fought the urge to pull at the neck of his sweater.
“I don’t have any romcoms on the menu for tonight, sadly…” You added just to see his eyes narrow and his lips thin in displeasure. “Come join me, please? I’ll even share my popcorn.”
A moment passed where you simply stared at one another, your heart in your throat at the thought of being rejected, but it didn’t come to pass. Kento took another swig of beer and made his way to you, sinking into the couch with a sigh of resignation that didn’t sound genuine at all. You hid your smile behind the can in your hand, twisting to look at him and meeting determined eyes.
Kento crossed an ankle over his knee, settling against the cushions. “I’ll pass on the popcorn, too noisy,” he teased, smirking when you blew a raspberry in his direction. “So, if it’s not lovey-dovey nonsense, what are we watching?”
He should have taken the wide, almost twisted grin as a hint, but once again he was oblivious to your devious ways. What a fool he was. Except, in the long run, you were the one who would have something to worry about…
~
A piercing scream tore through the sound system, followed immediately by one of your own, although thankfully not as loud. You pulled the blanket to your face, covering your eyes from the gore feast on the screen. It didn’t help that you could hear Kento chuckling by your side. So much for the idea that he might be the one taking the starring role as scream queen… dammit.
The first movie had been a classic, one you had both seen before and it was nice to be able to laugh along with your handsome companion at the overused tropes featured in many of the slasher movies from the eighties and nineties. Groaning almost in sync when the lead female chose to run deeper into the house than take the open door that led outside and booing when the killer miraculously managed to traverse the same distance as the comic relief sidekick without even breaking into a light jog.
It gave you time to indulge in conversation as well as keeping pace with the plot. You shoved him playfully when he refused to indulge your curiosities as to which, in his words, lovey-dovey movies he enjoyed. Not even your best pleading puppy eyes could get him to relent, the curl of his lips so telling of his enjoyment at your frustration.
However, he did share some juicy tidbits about his sister that you were sure to tuck away and use to embarrass Karin at a later date. She more than deserved it given that other than one short and snappy text message, you hadn’t heard from her in all the time you had been staying here. Some friend. The bluster was all feigned when you examined it, and you refused to dig any deeper.
Karin and Kento were so different you would have never guessed they were related, yet you liked them for completely different reasons. You wondered if you would keep in touch once… no, it couldn’t be like that, and you knew it deep down. This was a temporary situation that would be forgotten soon enough, you lied to yourself with a long swallow of your drink. It wasn’t worth ruining the evening by moping. Deciding it was for the best, regardless of what your heart tried to yell, you forced the feelings into a box and refocused on the here and now.
It warmed your heart to watch as Kento slowly relaxed further, his limbs losing the tension from when he first joined you, an arm draped along the back of the couch and his beer balanced on his thigh, hand loose around the glass bottle dripping in condensation. He was pretty funny when he wanted to be, making you nearly choke on your drink several times over when he offered his bitingly sarcastic commentary on the situation on screen. At times you thought his ears even looked a little red, but you couldn’t be sure given the lack of lighting. If it was true, then it was adorable that he got enjoyment from your genuine reactions to his jokes.
With the second movie fast approaching the climax of the horror, you regretted the decision to ramp things up. Most of the movie you had spent tucked tightly beneath the blanket covering your lap, squeaking at every little jump scare and even more so when Kento moved unsuspectedly. All of it was ammunition to the laughter Kento levelled at your expense, and more than once you reached out to smack at his arm with him feigning noises of hurt when you knew very well it was the lightest of touches.
Oh, he was a menace alright.
Kento, not for the first time during your stay, felt like he hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. He watched your bravado disappear in the face of a movie you weren’t familiar with, and tried not to think too deeply when he felt the desire to pull you into the side of his body. It wasn’t worth the headache. His beer was long finished, and his hands felt too empty, fingers twitching against his thigh and pinching at the stitched seam of the couch to distract himself from what he knew would be inappropriate thoughts. He would not sully this evening with his own selfish desires.
You shrieked once more when the villain popped out unexpectedly, however, this time you lunged sideways and buried your face into his arm that lay between you both. He nearly yelped himself, barely holding back the strangle of surprise when your nose rubbed into his bicep and your small fingers curled around his forearm. His heart rested in his throat, glancing down with wide eyes and almost missing when you spoke in a hushed whisper.
“Tell me when this bit is over.”
Tentatively, he lifted his arm and your hold tightened as if he were trying to shake you off. Kento murmured a gruff affirmation and refocused on the TV. You dared to lift your chin, blinking at his unwavering expression fixed straight ahead whilst he settled his arm around your shoulders and gently drew you closer. His jaw clenched, and you nearly backed away despite your heart hammering in your chest from the movie playing, but when his fingertips rubbed gently against your upper arm… it was game over.
You melted into his side, inhaling the scent of his expensive cologne surreptitiously and smiling into the soft knit of his sweater at the lingering aroma of coffee that infused his clothes. Clearly, he was a man that ran hot given the output he was currently kicking out and the longer you remained in this position, the less you felt like the blanket was necessary. It was far from unpleasant, in fact, you longed to wrap yourself in his warmth. Who needed a blanket when you could have him instead?
Closing your eyes, you smiled indulgently, knowing it would be hidden from view. This was nice—more than nice—it felt right. Like you belonged here, and you should make up for lost time by refusing to move when he inevitably tried to pry you off.
The moment didn’t come.
At last, when Kento signalled that you could look again, he didn’t make any move to shove you back to your corner of the couch as you had assumed he would. No, instead, he slouched deeper into the seat and rested his cheek atop your head like a boyfriend or a lover might do. It was comfortable, welcoming after all that had transpired in such a short space of time and honestly, you wished you had the courage to fist the front of his sweater and drag him into the desperate kiss you longed to bestow on his lips.
The walls that both you and Kento had built around yourselves were beginning to crumble like sandcastles being washed away by an approaching tide. The water was unstoppable, or so it seemed and the air in the room felt charged with possibilities.
The credits rolled and neither of you made a move. Kento held himself back for fear of something he couldn’t define, and you lacked the courage to be the first to act after the incident in the bar. Two idiots, that’s what you amounted to, and it was endlessly frustrating.
“I guess it’s time for bed,” Kento said, straightening in his seat but still making no effort to untangle you from his chest.
Alarmed, you jerked upwards and shook your head violently. “Oh no no no. There is no way you go straight to bed after horror movies!”
“I don’t plan on staying awake all night if that’s what you’re insinuating,” he countered with a sharp arch of one eyebrow. Your hand remained flush on his thigh now that you weren’t moulded into his body, and he did his best not to notice.
“No,” you pouted, exhaling loudly through your nose. “We watch something funny then go to bed. And you have to stay with me because…”
“… because you’re scared.”
You smacked him dead centre in his chest, rolling your eyes when his chuckle deepened into a rich baritone belly laugh that made your legs tremble. Thank god you were sitting down. “Shuddup.”
There was a part of you that wanted to retreat into his warmth, to make yourself a home in the space beneath his arm and listen to the beat of his heart until you found yourself too tired to resist the pull of sleep, but that was asking rather a lot.
Not for the first time, you wondered if he could read your mind, or if your thoughts were simply so obviously written across your face. Kento lifted the remote with his right hand and waved you towards him with the left. There was something unreadable in his expression, a tightness around the eyes and chiselled jawline. Again, you wondered how much of this he wanted to participate in, but the allure of his offer was too tempting to miss out on.
You resumed your position, legs tucked up and your torso leaning into the strong support of a man you were falling for. Fuck… why did it have to be like this? Closing your eyes for a moment’s reprieve, you resolved to do something about it—anything—because living this way, with these feelings and desires was taking its toll.
“That one,” you piped up when Kento passed over a movie you knew inside out. You convinced yourself that a good laugh would solve all your immediate problems and wriggled into a more comfortable position. The other matter could wait until the morning.
“A fine choice,” he murmured more to himself than anything. A smile returned to his face when the familiar movie of an overzealous police officer deployed to the seemingly pristine British countryside for showing up the city force began to play on the screen.
An hour in and your delightful laughter had stopped. Kento felt the rhythm of your breathing deepen, a swivel of his eyes told him exactly why—you were fast asleep. He gazed at your sleeping face for longer than he realised, his neck stiffening from the awkward position but not caring for the dull ache. Your features were smooth, relaxed in a peaceful slumber. There was no sign of your trepidation following the scary movies and he smiled gratefully.
You were so pretty. The truth of those words cemented into his brain, and he doubted anything could dissuade him. He couldn’t remember a time when he had gazed longingly at a previous girlfriend or lover like he was right now. There was something different about you, and yet so right that he ached to admit it out loud. Ever since the woman in the museum had mistaken you for a couple, offering advice that seemed to be tailor made specifically for his worries, he couldn’t get the idea of opening up out of his head.
His fingers graced the apple of your cheek, stroking your skin delicately like the flutter of a butterfly’s wing. Your face turned into the soft affection, a long comforting sigh exhaled through slightly parted lips and Kento fell even further. Why couldn’t he have met you under normal circumstances? A memory of your frantic flailing when he surprised you in his bathtub brought humour to his heart rather than the mortification of the day itself. It certainly made for an interesting story…
It took longer than it should for Kento to realise the movie had ended. Black velvet darkness decorated the quiet room, voyeuristic shadows clinging to the walls from the dark light of the blank television screen, still on but with nothing to display. The silent witnesses watched on whilst his heart beat faster and faster, head moving closer to your face until his lips brushed your forehead with heartfelt reverence.
The kiss was momentary, one singular frame in the grand scheme of his life, but to Kento, it felt like the defining moment. His old life, daily routine, the endlessly long hours at work, working out every morning simply to fit the aesthetic he believed to be the most suited to his lifestyle, it all seemed completely meaningless.
He thought of the books that lined the shelves of his office, most still unread. The places he dreamed of visiting—far flung countries with soft white sandy beaches, foreign cities with beautiful architecture to explore and even places closer to home that he never had time to venture to. How much of life was he missing out on? The food he could sample. The interests he could test out to see if any stuck, the people he could make friends with, the woman he could love…
Shit.
You were changing his entire world, and you had no fucking clue. He shouldn’t have kissed you. That realisation burned into him with vigour, the blazing inferno of his self-loathing at taking something that was not freely given, churned his stomach. Should he wake you and admit what he had done? No, it wasn’t fair to you.
Kento manoeuvred himself into a position to reach beneath your thighs, lifting you with ease into his arms and you didn’t even jostle at the movement. His eyes never left your face as you nuzzled into his chest, small fingers holding onto the fine threads of his sweater as if you were scared to lose your place, to lose your security. He wished he could be that for you, but he wasn’t sure if he was strong enough.
With the utmost care, he placed you into your bed, carefully unpicking your fingers and pressing the sheets into your palm as replacement before tucking them around you. Kento smiled when you murmured something unintelligible in your sleep, turning onto your side and burying your nose into your pillow with a gentle moan that spoke of nothing but comfort and peace. Despite kicking himself for the earlier kiss he had stolen without permission or consent, he found his nose and lips nestled in your hair once more. Again, the kiss was fleeting, and he stood to his full height and wished you a pleasant sleep under his breath before closing your door and disappearing behind his own.
He had a lot to think about, some decisions to make that could alter the course of his life and it was likely that not much sleep would come to him this night despite his earlier conviction that he wouldn’t be awake all night.
Sighing heavily, he scrubbed a palm down his weary face until he could catch his reflection in the bathroom mirror, the strain evident in his features.
“What do I do?”
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saetoshi · 1 year
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corazón de melón.
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tldr; the one time you have a proper conversation with itoshi sae ends up unleashing a series of events you never imagined could’ve happened.
wc. 10.2k
¿?: roommates to lovers, college!au, idiots in love, this is pure domesticity tbh, fluff, lowk word vomit, ooc-ish sae (he’s a silly lil guy sometimes this is the hill i’ll die on), slow burn ig ??, swearing, someone’s mean to you (not sae), not proofread (no surprise)
a/n: i have so many emotions in my heart for sae, SOMEONE SEDATE ME PLEASE FREE ME FROM HIM I CANT LIVE NORMALLY ANYMORE, turned rue into a sae liker for this so real of me, @rintosei, enjoy ur meal my children this is probably the longest thing i’ll write in a hot minute
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when others think of itoshi sae, many words come to mind: genius, talented, jerk, asshole, rude, mean, scary, lashes, pretty—the list goes on. 
you have no particular thoughts about sae. all he is to you is your roommate. you’d like to have an opinion of him, but that seems impossible with the way you can count the number of times you’ve spoken to him with one hand.
though, if you had to be honest, the only common thread in the few interactions you’ve had is that he very clearly does not care for your company—or anyone’s company, for that matter. 
not that you blame him. if you had to deal with having to go to practice after a day of classes, you wouldn’t want to interact with anyone else, either. (you’d also not have the energy to do anything.)
it’s why you’re used to hearing him get back to the apartment while you’re eating dinner; why you started leaving some leftovers for him to eat whenever he wants to.
it’s also why you’re surprised when he comes back from practice earlier than usual. you jump when you hear the front door open, placing your hand over your heart.
your turn to the door, eyes widening slightly when you see sae walk in. you don’t greet him—you never do—you don’t think he’d appreciate it. (he never greets you either, so you assumed it was fine.)
so, you turn your attention back to the tv, reaching out to grab the broom. you quickly start sweeping, humming a tune while the noise of whatever drama is playing in the background fills the apartment. 
you barely register that sae’s door doesn’t open, but the thought quickly leaves your mind when something dramatic happens to one of the leads. 
you take a step back, an unceremonious yelp leaving your lips when your back bumps into something. a second passes by before you slowly tilt your head back.  
your eyes are met with a pair of teal ones. a sheepish smile tugs at your lips, “hi?” 
he raises a brow, “what are you doing?”
“cleaning.” you move the broom from side to side in hopes to draw his attention to it. (he barely glances at it before his eyes snap back to yours.)
you take a step forward, moving to face him. he just stares at you. an awkward silence settles between the two of you.
“you’re back early.” you hope he didn’t hear your voice crack.
he blinks, clearly uninterested. “practice ended early.” 
you hum, nervously bouncing on the balls of your feet. you huff, tapping your fingers against the broom. “i see.”
it’s clear both of you feel uncomfortable. still, neither of you makes a move to leave. you’re more surprised sae’s still standing in front of you. (sae’s mildly intrigued you’re attempting to talk to him.)
you open your mouth to speak, but promptly shut it close. you repeat the action two more times before sae interrupts you, “what?”
your eyes drift away from his. you gnaw on your bottom lip. “it’s nothing.”
he glares at you. “just spit it out.”
your eyes widen, snapping back to look at him as you dismissively wave your hand. “it’s really nothing, you can just leave!”
“you clearly have something you want to say to me,” he deadpans, “so i suggest you get it over with so we can put an end to this lukewarm conversation.”
you take a deep breath, wiping one hand against your shirt, gently swaying the broom with the other. “i was just wondering, y’know since you’re back early–”
“hurry up.”
“do you wanna eat together?” you look at the ground, feet shuffling uncomfortably. the silence feels unbearable. 
“that’s it?” the confusion in his voice confuses you. you lift your eyes to stare at him, confusion etched in your face.
your head tilts to the side in confusion, “what do you mean ‘that’s it’?” 
“you wanna eat with me?” he points at himself. his brows knit when you nod. sae owlishly blinks, 
“okay.”
his eyes widen in confusion when he sees an elated smile bloom on your lips. 
“i won’t start cooking yet, since i at least have to finish sweeping,” you hum, “but if you’re hungry you could get started on something and i’ll join you when i’m done.”
“i can’t cook.” sae awkwardly coughs. he shoves his hands into his pockets, looking away from you, a soft flush spreading through his cheeks.
“oh,” you blink, smiling at him. “that’s fine! i can cook something while you clean instead.”
the blush on his cheeks deepens as his brows furrow.  “i don’t know how to clean.”
your smile tightens, eyes squinting as you inch closer to him.
there’s a beat of silence. “what can you do then?”
“play football.” you wait a few seconds for him to say something else. 
“that’s it?”
“yeah.” he says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. (as if it was the only thing that mattered.)
you rub your forehead, a dry laugh escaping your lips. 
if you were to tell others of this discovery you’re sure they wouldn’t believe you. you’re not even sure you believe him, yourself.
at least you didn’t, until he took the broom from your grasp. you have to bite back your laughter when he can’t even hold it properly. you wonder how he’d manage to survive alone.
itoshi sae is basically useless outside of football, you conclude. (and you’re not sure if this is the opinion you want to have about your roommate.)
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it’s been a week since you learned about sae’s lack of ability to do seemingly anything other than kick a ball around.
it’s also been a week since he started coming back from practice earlier. you have mixed feelings about it. on one hand, you find it strangely comforting knowing you’re not alone in the apartment. on the other, sae just stares at you while you clean.
you’re sick of feeling his eyes follow you around. it feels like a predator watching its prey. having his eyes trail you makes you feel judged, and you’ve had enough.
so, you tighten your grip around the mop in your hands, turning around to look at sae. you take a deep breath, “why are you staring at me?”
he blinks, propping an arm on a couch cushion and leaning his head into his palm. “i’m trying to learn.”
confusion paints itself all over your face, “learn what?” 
“learn to clean.” you hate when he says things like they’re the most obvious thing ever. it makes you feel as if he expects you to know what goes on in his head.
“by staring at me?” you raise a brow. 
he simply shrugs, “i’m a visual learner.”
you don’t know if you believe him. 
so, you place one of your hands on your hips, tilting the mop back and forth with the other one. “in that case, you should try cleaning today.”
his eyes widen, mouth curling into a fine line. “i don’t think i’m ready for that.”
you take a step closer to him, holding the mop out to him. “well, i think that after a week of watching me you should start practicing what you’ve learned.”
“don’t ever think again.” he frowns.
“oh, please,” you roll your eyes, “don’t tell me the itoshi sae is afraid of a little mopping.”
that makes him get up. you bite back the satisfied smile threatening to creep up your face when he snatches the mop from your hands.
“i’m just supposed to move this side to side, right?” he stiffly holds the mop, looking at you with a raised brow.
“‘m not gonna help you out,” you make your way to the couch, mimicking his earlier position. “if you’ve been learning from staring at me for a week then you should know what to do.”
“i know what to do.” he rolls his eyes, “i just don’t know how to do it.”
“figure it out, then.” you lean forward against the palm of your hand, trying to hide your smile behind your fingers.
he glares at you and scoffs, redirecting his attention to the object in his hands. you fail to stifle your laughter when he moves the mop in a sweeping motion.
“don’t laugh!” his grip tightens around the mop, heat rushing to his ears. 
you bite your tongue, the ghost of a smile still lingering on your lips, “i’m not.”
he tsks, slightly pouting. he walks towards you, dragging the mop behind him. you look up at him, you eyes flutter closed when he flicks your forehead. 
“teach me.” your eyes snap open, flickering to meet his. a confused noise leaves your lips as your brows furrow. 
“teach you what?” your eyes flutter when he flicks your forehead again.
sae’s eye twitches in annoyance, “are you stupid or something?”
you glare at him, “not everyone thinks the same things you do!”
he clicks his tongue, rolling his eyes. he points at the mop and then at himself. “teach me to clean.”
“i thought you said you were a visual learner.” you deadpan. 
“consider this your punishment for laughing at me.” he huffs, a condescending smile blooming on his lips when he sees your pained expression.
his face leans closer to yours, “i look forward to learning from you, teach.”
you dumbly stare at him as he places the mop in your hands. he flashes you a shit-eating grin before retreating to his room. you blink twice before coming to your senses, punching the couch cushions in anger. 
you wish you hadn’t found out itoshi sae was a little shit. you much preferred when you only thought of him as your useless roommate. 
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itoshi sae is the most infuriating student you’ve ever met. 
you thought someone described as a genius would be a much better student than he actually is. he doesn’t pay attention to anything you say at all. you wonder if his teachers just let him pass the class because they don’t want him around anymore. 
you have a newfound respect for his actual teachers. you don’t know how they manage to stand him for a whole semester when you don’t think you can even last two weeks. (it’s still longer than you expected.)
“sae,” you loudly sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, “you’re doing it wrong. again.” 
his grip around the broom tightens, his knuckles turning white, “i’m doing what you told me to do!”
“you’re not!” you groan, running a hand down your face, “gosh, how do you manage to do everything i tell you the wrong way?”
“what, so i’m the problem?” his eyes narrow, he takes a step closer to you, “have you ever thought that maybe you’re a bad teacher?”
an angry gasp leaves your lips, “excuse me?!”
“you heard me.” he grits his teeth, “you’re clearly the most lukewarm teacher ever. how do you expect me to learn when you don’t care about teaching me properly?”
“have you ever considered that maybe i don’t want to teach you because you forced me to?” you rub your temples in a poor attempt to prevent the coming headache.
he scoffs, brows knitting in annoyance, “you could at least put more effort into making sure i’m learning.”
“you think i’m not?” you point him square in the chest, glaring at him. “i’m doing my best here, okay? it’s not my fault you’re a shit student.”
“you–”
“you listen while your teacher is speaking.” you seethe, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, “i’m trying to do the best i can. i’m not qualified to teach you anything, especially not with how you don’t even pay attention to what i say!”
he frowns, “well, i–”
you shake him as hard as you can, angry tears pooling in your eyes, “you’re the most ungrateful, useless piece of fucking shit i’ve ever met in my life!”
sae grabs your wrists, letting the broom fall with a clang to the floor. he stares at you with wide eyes. you blink, heat creeping up your face in embarrassment.
there’s a beat of silence. sae’s eyes scan your face. “you good?” 
he lets out a soft sigh of relief when you nod. “are you going to punch me if i let go?”
he relaxes a little when you shake your head. he looks at you as he slowly lets go of your hands. you stare at him, wide eyed as he gently walks you over to the couch and sits you down.
sae plops down on the other end of the couch, glancing at you. he opens his mouth to speak, but promptly closes it. you stop yourself from laughing at his awkwardness. (it reminds you of how you must’ve acted when you talked to him a couple of weeks ago.)
you twist the hem of your shirt in your hands, looking away from sae, gnawing on your bottom lip. “’m sorry about that.”
“don’t apologize.” he coughs awkwardly, crossing his arms, “i probably stressed you out too much.”
“yeah, but, still,” you turn to face him, “i shouldn’t have said something so rude.”
“it’s fine. i really did deserve that, after all.” an amused laugh escapes his lips, “i’ve never heard you so mad before, though.”
you tilt your head to the side, “what do you mean?” 
“i mean,” a hint of amused smile tugs at the corners of his lips, “you tend to get really loud when you complain about your classes. i can hear you all the way to my room.”
your face heats up in embarrassment. you slump against the couch, hiding your face behind your hands. “sorry.”
“stop apologizing,” you slightly relax when you hear a sliver of empathy in his voice. “it’s better to let your emotions out instead of holding them in.”
you lower your hands from your face, staring at him. “do you do that?”
“it depends,” he hums, “feelings are lukewarm most of the time, so when i get angry or whatever i’ll let it out so i can get it over with.”
you narrow your eyes at him, scanning his face. “how does that even work?”
he shrugs nonchalantly, “if i get mad at someone i’ll say it to their face while i’m still mad so i can stop being angry.”
you mull over his words, “so instead of having pent up feelings and reaching your limit, you just act on your emotions as soon as possible so you go back to feeling nothing?”
“pretty much.”
a small hum leaves your lips. silence settles between the two of you before a loud growl echoes through the apartment. laughter bubbles in your chest, spilling out of your mouth when sae’s face flushes.
“shut up!” he hides behind his hands, “i haven’t eaten all day!”
you stand up, walking over and extending a hand out to sae, “wanna help out with dinner?”
he lowers his hands from his face, glancing between your eyes and your hand. he blinks, “i can’t cook.”
“i know,” a smile blooms on your lips, “you can consider it your first lesson.”
sae’s eyes light up, the corners of his lips tilting up ever so slightly. “you’re still gonna teach me?”
“i can’t let you stay useless forever.” you stick your tongue out at him, smiling when he grabs your hand.
a huff of laughter escapes his lips when you fail to tug him up. you flip him off before leaving him behind on the couch. a smile lingers on his face when he follows you to the kitchen. 
he’s not a good assistant. (and he’s an even worse cook). in fact, if you’d known that letting him into the kitchen would’ve resulted in having to evacuate the building due to the fire alarm, you wouldn’t have asked for his help at all.
however, you do appreciate that he invited you out for dinner later as an apology for stressing you out. 
(it makes you think he’s more considerate than he pretends to be.)
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you’ve lost track of the times you’ve had to apologize to your neighbors over sae activating the fire alarm. 
it’s embarrassing enough that seemingly everyone in the complex goes to your college, but sae seems to make it worse by glaring at anyone who so much as looks in your direction with a judgemental stare.
“i can’t keep going on like this,” you cover your face with your hands. you shrink into yourself when you feel multiple eyes staring at the back of your head.
“stop overreacting.” sae clicks his tongue. still, he discreetly grabs the hem of your shirt and gently pulls you closer to his side. 
you lower your hands from your face, frowning at him as tears of shame pool in your eyes. “everyone’s judging us!”
“just ignore them.” he awkwardly pats your head, “they’ll forget about it soon enough.”
“sae, this happens almost every week!” you cry, gnawing your lower lip, “some guy yelled at me last time because we interrupted his studying! do you have any idea how long i had to apologize for?”
his jaw clenches as anger flashes through his face for a split second before his uninterested expression returns. “what’d he look like?”
“i don’t know,” you blink, “he was tall. he also had brown-ish hair, i think?”
he shoves his hands in his pockets, tilting his head in the direction of the building, “do you know his apartment number?” 
“no,” you sigh. “why?”
the corners of his lips quirk up into a mischievous smile. “i was thinking of baking him some apology cookies.”
you cover your mouth in a feeble attempt to stifle your laughter. (if everyone was staring at you in judgment for triggering the fire alarm, now they’re judging you for laughing in this situation.)
sae tugs you into the building when you’re all cleared to enter, glaring at a few neighbors who shoot dirty looks at both of you.
you smack his arm, “stop doing that, you’re embarrassing us!”
he scoffs, flipping off anyone who’s still staring, “does it look like i care? they’re all too scared to say anything to my face, anyway.”
“yeah, but they always say shit to me when you’re gone,” you click your tongue, frowning. sae drags you up the stairs to your apartment.
both of you stand in front of your door when sae puts his hands on your shoulders, staring at you in the eyes. his eyes are a pretty shade of teal, you note.
“if anyone gives you shit when you’re alone, just remember what they look like, ‘kay?” he flicks your forehead, a malicious gleam in his eyes, “i’ll make sure to personally apologize for the trouble.”
a smile blooms on your lips, “you’re so mean.”
“shut up,” he rolls his eyes, pinching your cheek, “as your roommate, i’m the only one allowed to give you a hard time.”
“whatever you say, freak,” you rub your cheek, smile widening, swatting his hand away when he reaches out to pinch your other cheek. 
sae bites back a smile as he nods his head toward the door. “did you bring your key?”
you reach into your pockets, feeling around for the key. your head tilts down, eyes widening in panic when you don’t find anything. 
an embarrassed chuckle slips past your lips when you lift your head back up to look at sae. he pinches the bridge of his nose.
“gosh, you’re so useless.” 
you kick his shin, sticking your tongue out at him, “you don’t get to say that to me.”
he sticks his tongue out at you in return, crossing his arms. “whatever. just go and ask the landlord for a key.”
“me?” you raise your brows at him, haughtily tilting your head to the side, “you’re the reason we had to evacuate the building in the first place! i think it’s only fair that you get the key.”
sae opens his mouth to tell you off, but seemingly decides to sigh loudly in annoyed defeat instead, “fine.”
you smile triumphantly, turning to face him, your eyes closing as your chest puffs out in pride. sae rests his index finger on your forehead. your eyes flutter open in confusion at the contact, smile dropping into a curious pout. 
“tell me if anyone bothers you while i’m gone.” he flicks your forehead one last time before turning around and walking away. a content smile blooms on your lips as you stare at his back, sliding down to sit next to the door.
you don’t tell him the tall guy from last time dropped by to yell at you again. sae didn’t even have to ask to tell something was wrong with the way your smile seemed dimmer when you told him you’d take over making lunch.
he doesn’t tell you he’s going to give that asshole the ‘apology’ cookies he’d mentioned before. (and he definitely doesn’t mention that he got his apartment number from the landlord when he got the key to your apartment.) but you had an inkling of what he was going to do when you saw him take out some bowls and a whisk from the cabinets. (you didn’t stop him.)
you bake him some actual ‘thank you’ cookies and place them by his door before heading to your room for the night. the next morning you find a post-it with an ‘anytime’ messily scribbled on it and a ‘thanks for the cookies :)’ on the other side.
you smile fondly at the teal-colored square. you think it resembles the color of his eyes. (it makes you feel warm and fuzzy.)
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sae’s gotten slightly better at cooking. he’s able to make at least one meal without triggering the fire alarms.
you feel proud. you suppose that’s what teachers feel when their most lazy, unmotivated student finally manages to put effort into something. 
it makes you feel proud enough that you take a detour to the convenience store on your way home. a fond smile lights up your face when you walk out of the store, plastic bag in hand with a chocolate bar and a pack of star stickers.
there’s a skip to your step as you head home, swinging the bag back and forth. 
you’ve barely even opened the door to your apartment when it swings open. your eyes widen in surprise when they meet sae’s. 
his eyes narrow, “what took you so long?”
a slightly burnt scent wafts the apartment. your nose scrunches, “is something burning?”
“answer my question first,” he points the spatula in his hand at you. 
“i got you a reward,” you smile, lifting the bag in your hands. 
his eyes light up, “what’d you get me?”
you quickly hide the bag behind your back when he reaches out for it. “answer my question first.”
a small smile tugs at his lips. he rolls his eyes, “nothing is burning. i turned off the stove before opening the door just to be sure.”
you reach out to pat his head, a teasing smile on your lips, “good job, sae!”
he scoffs, a soft blush dusts his ears. “you make it sound like you’re praising a dog.”
you huff, “stop complaining when you’re getting praised.”
“whatever.” sae pouts, brows knitting, “when are you giving me my gift?”
“so impatient ,” you tsk, shaking your head, “let me in first, i don’t wanna stand in the hallway any longer.”
he grabs your arm and pulls you close to him, kicking the door closed. you bump into his chest, eyes widening as heat rushes to your ears.
the first thing that pops into your mind is that he smells nice. there’s a hint of a burnt scent that clings to him, but he still smells nice. (you note that he feels warm too. it makes you feel warm.)
you feel a slight pressure against your brows. it makes you blink as you slowly snap out of your stupor. 
“you good?” your eyes meet sae’s worried ones. he leans in closer to you, scanning your face. you awkwardly nod. 
his brows furrow. “are you sure? you zoned out for a bit. are your classes stressing you out too much?”
you shake your head, slightly leaning away from him. your lips press into a fine line. sae’s eyes narrow as he scans your face. he steps back, his hands resting on your shoulders. the spatula lightly digs into your skin.
“is it that guy again?” he tightens his grip, making you wince when the spatula presses harder against your skin, “is he still bothering you?”
“i think you scared him away,” you quickly swat his arms away. “i’m fine, though.”
“are you sure?” he sighs when you nod, “why’d you zone out then?”
“i got distracted,” you gnaw on your bottom lip. 
his expression morphs to confusion, “with what?”
your eyes widen slightly. you don’t want to tell him he’s the reason you zoned out. so, you settle for the only thing that comes to mind, “the smell of something burning. are you sure you turned off the stove?”
“yes.” he groans in annoyance. there’s a small pause. sae turns around, tugging you into the kitchen with him. 
“look!” he points at the stove, “it’s off. stop making me second-guess myself.”
an amused smile blooms on your face, “i can’t believe you had to come check if you actually turned it off.”
“i can’t believe you actually haven’t given me my gift yet,” he scoffs, pouting. 
you laugh, reaching out to flick his forehead. “patience is a virtue, sae. it’d do you well to have it.”
“whatever.” he tries to grab the bag from your hands. “just give it to me already.”
you smile, pulling out the chocolate bar from the bag. laughter bubbles in your chest when you see his stunned expression.
“chocolate?” he glares at the bar in your hand, “do you know how unhealthy that is for me?”
“if you don’t want it i’ll just keep it, then.” you nonchalantly shrug.
he snatches it out of your grasp. “i never said i didn’t want it.”
his eyes twinkle when he unwraps it. he glances up at you, “do you want a bite?”
“just a small one,” you reach out to grab the bar. 
sae moves the chocolate out of your reach, “open your mouth.”
you blink, tilting your head in confusion. he sighs, “i’ll feed it to you. i need to make sure you don’t bite off half of the bar.”
“do you trust me so little?” you scoff, crossing your arms. still, you open your mouth, heat rushing to your ears when sae tells you to take a bite. 
“is it good?” he stares at you, taking a bite of the chocolate when you nod. 
you both swallow at the same time, a smile lighting up your face. “i think you deserve another reward for sharing.”
his brows raise in intrigue, “another? gosh, you’re really spoiling me today, aren’t you?”
you take the pack of stickers out of the back, waving it in front of him. he gives you an unamused look. 
“i bought these for whenever you do something nice,” you place a sticker on his cheek.
“that’s stupid,” he frowns. 
“shut up, you look cute.” you pinch his other cheek.
he clicks his tongue, “whatever. now get out of my kitchen i need to continue making dinner.”
laughter spills out of your mouth when he pushes you into the living room. “do you want me to help?”
“no.” he huffs, “i can do it myself. now go relax or something, i’ll come get you when dinner’s ready.”
“are you sure you’ll be fine on your own?” you snicker, “i’d hate to have to evacuate the building.”
he lightly smacks your shoulder, “i can cook by myself!”
“sae–”
“just let me cook something for you this once,” he mutters. 
a soft, defeated sigh leaves your lips, “okay.”
“i’ll let you cook alone,” you smile, “just this once, though. i can’t leave you unsupervised for too long.”
he hums, patting your head before heading back to the kitchen. a small smile lingers on your lips as you make your way to the couch, turning on the tv.
it doesn’t take long for sae to walk over, two plates in his hands, and a self-satisfied smile on his lips.
you’d be lying if you said the meal was good. it was slightly charred, and a little too salty. you’re sure you would’ve managed to turn it into something decent if he’d let you help. 
still, as bad as the food was, you can’t help but eat it with a smile on your face, a warm, fuzzy feeling tugging at your heart. 
sae groans in annoyance when you place another sticker on his forehead. (your heart leaps when you notice the soft flush to his cheeks.)
he lets you help him wash the dishes, complaining when you flick soapy water in his direction. laughter fills the apartment when he flicks water back at you. time seemingly slowing down to let you savor the moment just a little longer before you head back to your room.
you drift off to sleep with a smile on your face. your heart drums against your chest when you recall the smile on sae’s face. 
(you wish he’d smile at you more often.)
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you’ve discovered sae is much better at cleaning than he is at cooking. you’ve also discovered that he’s more thoughtful than he lets on. 
he tends to clean the apartment while you’re in class. he claims it’s because he absolutely must practice cleaning in order to get better. (you don’t believe him.) he swears he ensures the apartment’s clean by the time you get home because he can’t stand your nagging. (you still don’t believe him.)
it’s why you’ve had to go out and buy more stickers to reward him with. it’s also why you’re a little surprised to see him still mopping the apartment when you get back.
you take your shoes off, quickly putting on your slippers. “you’re still cleaning?”
“i’m almost done,” he hums, “practice ended a little later today.”
you make your way to the couch, careful not to slip on the floor, “why? is there a match soon?”
“there’s one tomorrow,” he turns to look at you, frowning when he sees you pull out a pack of stickers with a teasing smile on your face. (he still makes his way over to you when you tell him to come closer despite knowing your intention.) he watches you place the sticker on his shirt, a concentrated look in your eyes.
he sticks his tongue out at you when you look up at him with a satisfied grin. sae rests his hand on top of your head. “wanna come watch?”
you tilt your head to the side, “i’m not a big football fan.”
he playfully shakes your head, brows knitting, “have you ever even been to a football match?”
“no,” you pry his hand off your head, “but i don’t really see the point of going when i know i’ll get bored.”
he rolls his eyes, “you won’t.”
“how do you know?” you lean closer to him, raising a brow, a playful grin on your lips.
he leans closer to you, nose playfully scrunching, “because i’m going to be playing.”
your face scrunches up in mock disgust, “you’re making me not want to go even more.”
he teasingly clutches his heart in faux pain, a smile on his lips as he tries to hold back his laughter, “you’re so mean. you’re hurting me right now.”
“are you trying to make me feel bad?” you bite back a smile, fondly rolling your eyes. “because it’s totally working.”
“your sarcasm wounds me,” he frowns, shaking his head. “i can’t believe my roommate won’t support me at my match.”
you punch his arm, “keep this up and you won’t be eating any dinner.”
“fuck,” a hearty laugh escapes his lips, “when’d you get so mean?”
“i learned from the best,” you stick your tongue out at him. a soft laugh leaves your lips when sae scoffs, looking away. 
“are you really not going to go see the match?” he turns to you, pouting. you hate when he uses that little pout to guilt you. (you hate that you fall for it even more.)
you sigh, slumping against the couch, “i’ll think about it.”
“just give me an actual answer, damn.” he taps your forehead, “are you going, yes or no?”
a teasing smile creeps up your lips, “maybe.”
you laugh when he calls out your name in annoyance. he groans, glaring at you, “i hate you.”
“no you don’t,” you smile at him, “if you did you wouldn’t have asked me to go see you play tomorrow.”
his face flushes in embarrassment. “you’re not even going anyway!”
you rest your head on your hand, “i am, though.”
he stares at you, unimpressed. there’s a beat of silence before he huffs, the corners of his lips quirking up, “i really can’t stand you sometimes.”
“it’s not my fault you’re fun to tease!” you laugh. he flips you off before turning around to continue mopping. you sigh, stretching your arms up. a couple of seconds go by before you get up to make your way to the kitchen.
“where are you going?” 
“the kitchen,” you hum, turning around to look at sae. your ears burn when your eyes meet his. you wish you knew what goes on in his head when he stares at you so intensely. you wish you knew if he even knows he’s staring at you so intently. a small, awkward cough leaves your lips, “i wanted to get started on dinner.”
“you’re not even going to wait for me?” you fiddle with the hem of your shirt at his teasing tone. 
sometimes you wonder if he knows how domestic your dynamic has become. if he’s aware that people have started associating him with you, and vice versa. if he’s aware of the effect his words have on you. (you really wish you could take a peek inside his mind.)
“you’d just get in my way,” you tsk, “besides i wanna finish quickly, my head hurts a little.”
he quickly walks over to you, dragging the mop behind him, “have you taken any medicine?”
“i’m fine,” you wave off the hand he placed on your forehead, “it’s probably because i’m hungry.”
“are you sure?” your heart pounds against your chest at his concern. 
you give him a reassuring smile, “i’m sure. if it still hurts before i go to bed i’ll take some medicine.”
“fine.” he huffs, lips pursing, “but if you still feel bad tomorrow, promise you’ll let me know.”
you feel your heart squeeze. you gnaw on your bottom lip, twisting the hem of your shirt with your hands. 
“i promise.” your voice is barely above a whisper, it’s just loud enough for him to hear.
he smiles, patting your head, “don’t push yourself too hard, ok?”
sae turns around. you stare at his back, his name tumbling out of your lips before you can stop yourself. he turns around with a curious hum.
you feel like your heart rests on your throat. he patiently waits for you to continue. heat rushes to your ears and you wipe your hands against your shirt. “i also promise i’ll go see your match.”
the smile that lights up his face makes you wish it was tomorrow already. you want to go. (because you like seeing him smile.) you want to go see his match. (because it’ll make him happy.)
you want to see him do his favorite thing in the world. you want to share that happiness with him, despite not caring much for the sport. (because you think it’ll make him happy to see you there, even if he doesn’t say it. you want to be the reason he feels genuine happiness.)
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you’re not there.
it’s the first thing sae notices when he looks at the stands. it’s what he keeps noticing whenever he turns to look at the stands throughout the match. when they reach halftime and you’re still not there, so he texts you. the second half starts and you’re still not there. 
the game ends and you never showed up. his brows knit when he checks his phone only to find out you never even read his messages. concern carves itself into him. 
he makes his way back to the apartment as quickly as he can, secretly hoping that nothing bad happened to you.
his heart beats faster, anxiety seeping into him when he opens the door and he doesn’t see your figure on the couch. 
sae hastily kicks his shoes off, dropping his duffel bag somewhere on the floor. he lets out a deep breath when he stands in front of your door, quickly knocking.
a couple of seconds go by before he knocks again, frowning when there’s no reply. he quietly opens the door, mentally apologizing. his eyes quickly scan the room for you. there’s a lump in his throat when he sees something stir under your bed sheets. 
he quietly walks over to your bed, slowly lowering your comforter. his chest tightens, brows knitting with worry when he sees your face twisted in pain, a slight sheen of sweat on your forehead. he grabs a tissue from your nightstand, gingerly wiping the sweat away. 
he sharply inhales when you stir under his touch. sae stares at you as you slowly open your eyes. his eyes fill with concern when he notices how heavy, and unfocused yours look.
he presses the back of his hand against your forehead, brows furrowing even more, “gosh, you’re burning up.”
“sae?” he can barely hear your voice. “why’re you here?” 
he clicks his tongue, wiping more sweat off your forehead.
“what about the match?” you blearily look at him, voice laced with soft concern. you try to keep your eyes open when he heads out, grogginess catching up to you when he returns with a bowl in his hands, a hand towel over his shoulder. 
he dampens the towel, wringing out the excess onto the bowl. sae gently presses it against your forehead, “have you had a fever all day long?”
“did i miss it?” his heart aches at how choked up your voice sounds. 
“i thought i told you to tell me if you weren’t feeling alright, dumbass,” he nags, carefully lifting your head up to prop another pillow under it. 
“‘m sorry.” your eyes fill with tears, a pout tugging at your lips. he gently adjusts the towel against your skin. 
“don’t apologize,” he softly tsks, “worry about getting better, not about missing the game, idiot.”
he panics when a tear rolls down your cheek, hastily brushing it away. his heart squeezes in pain when more tears freely roll down your cheeks. 
“i didn’t,” you sniffle, “didn’t wanna miss the game.”
he shushes you, grabbing another tissue to wipe your tears away. “it’s fine.”
“‘s not,” your breath quickens, brows knitting in sadness, “i promised.”
he firmly calls out your name, “it’s not your fault.”
“i promised,” you hiccup. sae frowns, reaching out to remove the towel from your forehead, pouting when he notices you’re still burning up. he quickly dampens it again before resting it against your skin once more.
“i’ll go get you some medicine,” he whispers, turning around to exit your room.
sae stops in his tracks when he feels something weakly tug at his fingers. he turns to look at you, sucking in a shaky breath when he sees you holding on to him.
“don’t leave.” you weakly try to pull him closer. 
there’s a slight flicker of hope in him that tells him you’re aware of what you’re doing despite your raging fever. but he quickly extinguishes it by reminding himself that you probably think you’re dreaming. (because there’s no way you’d tell him to stay with you otherwise, he’s sure of it.)
“i have to get you some medicine,” he mutters. still, he makes no attempt to free his hand from yours.
“stay.” he wants to. he wants to stay with you more than anything. but he needs to get you something to relieve your fever.
he sits on your bed, readjusting your grip on his hand, “i need to go get your medicine.” 
he gingerly readjusts the towel on your forehead, slightly smiling at you. his heart pangs with worry when he notices how clammy your hands are. 
sae’s eyes widen when you lift yourself up, wrapping your arms around his neck. the towel on your forehead drops into his lap. he feels you rest your head on his shoulders, frowning at the heat emanating from you. (still, he wraps his arms around you so you don’t fall.)
his worried eyes meet your hazy ones when you slowly lift your head to look at him, a sleepy smile on your lips. 
“so stubborn,” your hands cup his cheeks. 
sae freezes when he feels your lips press against his. his heart beats faster, blush spreading through his face like wildfire. 
a sharp inhale leaves his lips when he feels your hands drop from his cheeks, your body tilting back. he cups the back of your head before it hits the pillow.
his eyes scan your face. he lowers his head when he feels your feeble grip on his jacket. his eyes flicker to yours when you weakly tug him closer in an attempt to press his lips against yours again. 
he slowly lifts your head up, a soft huff of laughter slipping past his lips when a glimmer of anticipation flashes through your eyes. he presses his lips against yours in a short peck, a startled noise leaving his mouth when you pull him back in. 
his face heats up more and more every time you chase after his lips when he pulls away for air. he pants when you pull away, trying to catch your breath. he rests his forehead against yours, his breath fanning against your lips. 
you softly call out his name. butterflies erupt in his stomach. he really hopes you know you’re not dreaming. 
his arm tightens against you, the hand resting on the back of your head gently tilting it to the side. he doesn’t think twice before pressing his lips against yours again, a content sigh escaping him when you melt under his touch. 
he presses his lips against yours over and over again, gently lowering you back onto the bed. your kisses feel like they’re the very air he breathes. like he’ll suffocate if he’s apart from you for more than a second.
sae kisses you silly until he feels your grip against his jacket soften. he pulls away, panting, face ablaze, eyes looking at your sleeping face with a softness that is so unlike him.
he carefully removes your hands from him, lifting your comforter to tuck you into bed. a smile lingers on his lips as he places the towel on your forehead again. 
he quietly makes his way out of your room, pressing the pads of his fingers against his lips. his heart feels like it wants to jump out of his chest. a deep sigh leaves his lips. he makes his way to the front door, quickly putting on his shoes to go buy your medicine.
sae really hopes you get better soon. (he wants to kiss you again, and he wants to be sure you’ll remember it properly.)
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if you thought sae was a bad student, he’s an even worse patient. he is the most uncooperative sick person you’ve ever met in your life. 
you suppose it’s only fair to put up with him since he took care of you while you were sick. (even if it makes you want to knock him unconscious.)
still, it never fails to make your blood boil when you find him wobbling around the living room with a broom in his hands.
“would it kill you to stay in bed?” you stomp over to him, prying the broom off his hands before propping it against the wall.
he blearily looks at you, pouting. he sniffles, “yes.”
you frown, grabbing his hand and dragging him to his room. he glares at you when you force him to lay down on his bed. 
“stay here while i get your medicine,” you point at him, glaring back. “or i’ll suffocate you with a pillow until you fall asleep.”
“you can’t be rude to me while i’m sick!” he angrily crosses his arms, scoffing.
it’s still surprising that he’s still in bed when you get back. it’s even more surprising that he’s staring at the door, his face lighting up when you enter. 
his nose scrunches up in disgust when he sees the cough syrup in your hands. he burrows himself in his comforter, turning his head away from you. 
“sae.” you gently call out, sitting next to him. a small smile blooms on your lips when he slowly turns to look at you. “you know you have to take your medicine to get better, right?”
“if i take my medicine,” he sneezes, “will you give me a reward?”
“yeah, sure, i’ll give you a sticker.” you absentmindedly hum, uncapping the syrup. 
“no,” he shakes his head,  “i want another reward.” 
your brows raise in confusion, your turn your attention to him. “what kind of reward?”
he smiles, lifting a hand to tap his lips and then tapping yours. your face heats up, jaw dropping. you gently swat his hand away, pouting. “you shouldn’t tease like that.”
“‘m not,” he sticks his tongue out at you, “i want another kiss.”
“another?” you blink in surprise. your eyes widen slightly when a cheeky smile creeps up his lips. 
“you kissed me when you were sick,” he snickers, nose scrunching up when you force the syrup into his mouth. 
“no i didn’t,” you frown. he forces himself to swallow the cough syrup, a choked gasp leaving his lips.
“you don’t remember?” he whines, sniffling when you shake your head. 
you feel a pang in your heart when sae looks at you, eyes swimming with sadness. “‘m sorry, sae.”
“‘s fine,” he playfully smiles, “i’ll just have to make up for it later.”
heat spreads through your face. a pout tugs at your lips, “don’t say stuff like that. i might take you seriously.”
“i’m being serious,” he sniffles, “wanna kiss you again.”
you shyly stare at him, shrinking into yourself. you suppose being sick must’ve made him bolder. or maybe he just wants to get back at you. but you have to admit it gives you the perfect excuse to make him stop being so difficult.
“i’ll kiss you if you stop complaining about taking your medicine,” you quietly huff, fingers playing with your shirt. 
your ears feel like they’re on fire when his face lights up. “but only when you get better! i don’t wanna get sick again.”
he nods, a satisfied grin blooming on his lips. “sounds good to me.”
there’s a beat of silence before you stand up. sae’s eyes widen, “where are you going?”
“i’m gonna go make you some soup,” you hum, “you should sleep while i’m gone.”
sae pouts, “‘m not tired.”
“that’s too bad, then,” you stick your tongue out at him. he clicks his tongue. 
“i’ll be back soon,” you pat his head. he huffs, pouting.
you barely take a step forward, yelping when you feel something yank you back. your brows knit in annoyance when you feel sae wrapping his arms around you. 
“sae.”
“‘m only going to sleep if you stay with me.” he mutters.
an amused smile tugs at your lips. you’re starting to think he’s cute when he’s sick. a little clingy, but cute. (you also think you might indulge him just this once.)
“fine,” you sigh. “but i’m leaving as soon as you fall asleep.”
you don’t. 
you’re not sure exactly when you fell asleep, but you’re sure it wasn’t dark outside when sae pulled you towards him. part of you wants to stay with him, just to let him sleep longer. but you also know you need to make him some soup. 
so, you gently try to pry yourself off of him. a soft groan leaves your lips when his arms tighten around you. 
his name tumbles out of your mouth. “i have to go make your soup.”
“‘m coming with you.” his voice sounds hoarse. (his nose sounds stuffy, too.)
“sae,” you try to pry his arms off, “you need to rest.”
“‘m going with you.” he huffs, “there’s nothing you can say to make me not join you.”
you begrudgingly decide to indulge him again. which is why he’s slumped over your shoulder as you make your way to the kitchen. it’s why he’s holding onto your waist, burrowing his face in your neck as you move around the kitchen. 
(it’s why your face feels like it’s on fire when he nuzzles closer to you, smiling.)
and you think that maybe him being a little too clingy isn’t that bad.
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when a girl in your class asks you what sae is to you, you’re not sure what to say. 
you could say he’s your roommate, like you used to. but you don’t think he’d make himself extremely comfortable in your personal space if he was just your roommate. you could also say he’s your friend (much to everyone’s surprise.) but you’re not sure if he’d be so obsessed with kissing you whenever you’re both home if he was just your friend. 
(still, he’s not exactly your boyfriend, either. you’re not sure what he is. neither of you have brought it up before.)
either way, she wouldn’t be satisfied with the answer you give her. at least, that’s what you think with the way she glowers at you.
so, you just say he’s nothing. (which is a lie. but she doesn’t need to know that.) 
the result is what you expected, some angry huffing and empty warnings to stay away from sae. (not that it’d work seeing how you live with him.) except, things take a turn for the worse when your phone screen lights up, displaying sae’s name on it while it rings on the table. 
a pained expression flashes through your face when she clears her throat. you tilt your head up to look at her, an awkward, tense smile on your lips.
“i thought you said he was nothing to you?” she scoffs. 
“he is.” you internally curse how fast you replied. you hope she didn’t notice. 
she rolls her eyes, “then why do you have his contact saved with a star on your phone?”
you blink, your lips pressing into a fine line. “because he’s a star?” 
she doesn’t look convinced. (neither are you.) a loud, annoyed groan leaves her lips as she looks you up and down, crossing her arms.
“listen here, idiot,” she glares at you. anger flashes in her eyes when your phone rings again. “i don’t know who you think you are–” 
(you don’t know who she thinks she is, but with the way she seems to be unaware that you literally live with sae, you assume she must be some clueless freshman who happened to go to one of the football matches, saw sae, and became one of his many fans.)
“–but if you even consider the idea that sae might be into you–”
(you don’t even have to consider the idea, it pretty much solidified itself as a fact given with the way he kisses you until both of you are struggling to catch your breath whenever you two are alone.)
“–then you’ve got another thing coming,” she grabs your wrist, digging her nails into your skin. “i don’t know how someone like you got his number, but he doesn’t need freaks like you bothering him.”
she looks at you with contempt, “so stay away from him, or else–”
“or else what?” 
you both turn your heads to the door. her grip on your wrist loosens. you bite back a laugh when she removes her hand, shyly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 
“sae,” she takes a step closer to him. you hide your smile behind your hand when you see his clearly annoyed and disgusted expression. (you note he looks disheveled. you also notice his duffel bag slung over his shoulders.)
“or else what?” you snort at the clear anger in his voice. he glares at her, crossing his arms. she shrinks into herself, clearly nervous. 
“i was just trying to keep this freak away from you,” she plays with her hair. you feel embarrassed for her when she continues, “you shouldn’t have to deal with–”
“who the fuck even are you anyway?” he cuts her off, scowling. 
her eyes light up, “i’m–”
“leaving? i sure fucking hope so.” he scoffs, walking over to you. his face softens when he looks at you. 
sae extends his hand out to you, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips when you slip your hand into his. he reaches out for your backpack, quickly shrugging it on his shoulder before you can protest. 
“i thought you were one of the first people out of class,” he hums, lacing his fingers with yours.
your eyes flicker to the girl, who is still standing next to the table, face flushed in embarrassment. “i got held up.”
sae glances in her direction, scoffing in annoyance. “you’re still here?”
you can’t help but feel a little bad for her when her eyes well up with tears of embarrassment, her hands bunching up her skirt. “i thought–”
“you thought wrong,” he clicks his tongue, “now get lost.”
her eyes snap to yours, anger replacing the embarrassment, “i thought you said he was nothing to you!”
sae gasps, looking at you, hurt written all over his face. you look away, biting the inside of your cheek. he calls out your name, “why’d you say that?”
“i didn’t know what else to say,” you mumble. 
“say i’m your boyfriend!,” he huffs. “or do you not want to say that?”
heat floods your face. you hide your face in sae’s back when you hear choked sobs. you tug at his jacket, “can we just go home already?”
you take a peek at the girl from behind sae’s shoulder. “i don’t want to talk about this here.”
“fine,” he mutters, “but this conversation is not over.”
he drags you out of the classroom. you don’t look back, but you gnaw your bottom lip when you hear muffled sobs coming from behind you. 
you both walk in silence for a bit. a small smile blooms on your lips when sae slows down his pace to match yours. 
“i’m surprised you didn’t tell her off.” he hums. 
“you got there before i could,” you fondly shake your head, “i would’ve loved giving her a piece of my mind.”
a soft laugh leaves his lips, “i’m sure you’ll find another occasion to do so.”
the walk home feels quicker than usual. you suppose it’s because sae’s actually with you instead of over the phone.
you’re barely past the door to your apartment when sae wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. he relaxes when you wrap your arms around him. 
“if someone asks you what i am to you,” he nuzzles his face into your neck, “just tell them i’m your boyfriend.”
“are you sure?” your hands clench around his jacket. 
he pulls back slightly to look at you, confusion written all over his face. “yeah? am i not your boyfriend already?”
“i don’t know?” your brows knit in confusion. 
“i thought it was clear?” he blinks. “it wasn’t clear to you?”
“i don’t think i would’ve been threatened by one of your fangirls if it was clear,” you deadpan. 
“oh.” he presses his lips into a fine line. “well, now you know.”
your jaw drops, “you’re not even going to ask if i want you to be my boyfriend?”
“i think it’s safe to say we’re well past asking,” he stares at you. 
“still,” you pout, “it’d be nice if you did.”
“what, are you going to give me a sticker if i do?” he scoffs. 
“i was gonna give you a kiss, but if you don’t wanna ask, then–”
“would you let me be your boyfriend?”
laughter spills out of your lips, “you didn’t even let me finish!” 
“just answer my question.” he smiles. “and hurry it up too, i have to clean.”
you playfully shake your head, “so demanding. but, i suppose you can be my boyfriend.”
sae’s lips are on yours as soon as the words leave your mouth. you gasp in surprise when he nips at your lower lip. 
you’re not sure how long he kisses you for, but you feel dizzy when you pull away. you angle your head away from his when he chases after your lips again. 
“i thought,” you pant, “thought you said you had to clean.” 
“it can wait.” he breathes out. 
“i have to cook.” 
he angles your head back to face him, “it can wait.”
“but–”
he calls out your name with a smile, “it can all wait. just let me kiss you again.”
“okay.” you smile when he tilts your head towards his. 
you think you’re starting to understand sae’s obsession with kissing you.
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when you think of itoshi sae, the first thing that comes to mind is: boyfriend. you’re not sure if you’re ever going to get used to calling him that. you’ve told him it still sounds weird, he simply says it sounds perfect. 
you’re also not sure you’ll ever get used to the many pairs of eyes staring holes into the back of your head. (you blame sae for insisting you wear his spare jersey to his games.)
still, you suppose you could put up with all the staring if it means you get to see sae play.
(even if it means you have to endure his showing off for the next hour.)
“did you see how great i was out there?” he puffs out his chest. 
“you were the best!” you smile when he laces his fingers with yours. “i think you deserve a reward.”
you bite back a laugh when his head turns to look at you, eyes twinkling with anticipation. “close your eyes.”
you can practically feel the excitement rolling off of him as he closes his eyes. you let go of his hand, snickering when his brows furrow. you quickly reach into your bag, pulling out the sticker sheet you stashed in there. 
a laugh leaves your lips when you gingerly place a star sticker on sae’s cheek. “you can open your eyes now.”
you heartily laugh when sae touches his cheek, glaring at you when he feels the outline of a star. he huffs, “you’re the worst.”
“shut up, you love them.” you flick his forehead. 
he tsks, poking your nose. “when you said i deserved a reward, i thought you meant a kiss.”
“i can kiss you if you want.” you cheekily smile at him. he huffs, crossing his arms.
he turns his head away from you, “you ruined the moment with those stupid, lukewarm stickers.”
“you say that as if you don’t stick them against your mirror.” you stick your tongue out at him, the corners of your lips lifting into a smile when his cheeks flush. 
“i hate you,” he frowns, looking at you.
“no you don’t,” you peck his cheek.
“whatever,” he grumbles, “let’s just go home already.”
you laugh when he grabs your hand, tugging you in the direction of your apartment. (you don’t mention the smile on his lips.)
“i’m going to cook today,” he laughs when you groan in disgust. “i’ve gotten better!”
“yeah, right.” you quip. “i think it’d be better if you clean while i cook.”
“what if we cook together?” he hums.
“you’ll just get in my way.” you smile, laughing when he shakes your arm. 
“what if we go out to eat?” he shrugs nonchalantly. (you still notice the flush on his ears.)
“itoshi sae!” you gasp dramatically, “are you asking me out on a date?”
he scoffs, cheeks turning bright red. “don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“i’d be honored to go out with the itoshi sae,” your voice drips with mischief. a soft gasp leaves your lips when he tugs you to him, wrapping his arms around you.
“i think it’s me who’s honored to go out with you,” he mumbles. you hug him back, nuzzling into him. 
“we still need to head home, though,” he pulls away, “i want to take a shower.”
“want me to join you?” you laugh when you see his scandalized expression.
“you’re so shameless!” he bites back a laugh, hiding his face behind his hands.
“oh, please, like we haven’t showered together before.” you playfully scrunch your nose. 
he clicks his tongue, “as tempting as it sounds, i really would like to go eat early today.”
you fondly roll your eyes, tugging him towards your apartment. “fine.”
“but i’m not opposed to taking a shower with you when we get back.” he bites back a smile when you smack his shoulder.
the walk home is filled with laughter, teasing smiles on both of your faces. and, for once, you’re glad to have an opinion of sae.
(especially because it’s based on the version of your sae, and not the one everyone else thinks he is.)
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2K notes · View notes
gdjyho · 1 year
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❝ ecstasy ❞
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- sypnosis ; jungkook fucks the reader completely dumb. you need him so bad. you can’t help it.
- paring ; jungkook x female reader [ established relationship].
- warnings ; pussy play, mentions of cheating, jungkook can’t make a choice, p in v [wrap it before you tap it] dick riding , dumbification, cum play, desperate reader, slight neck grabbing, mentions of hickies (?) , cum eating, nude pictures, dacriphyllia [ pleasure form tears], pure smut.
if u liked it let me know in the comments !!
✭✭✭
“ nmph! jungkook!” you whine on his cock as his tattooed hands find the smooth skin on your back. this action of his sends a shiver down your spine. the sweet symphony of moans and skin slapping laced together, filling the room.
jungkook looks up to admire the mess he’s made you into. he can’t help but smile as he looks down at you. the moment of intimacy he feels is short lived when jihyo comes to his mind. his girlfriend. his eyebrows knit together in confusion of his feelings. his mind is ages away.
he moves his hands along your figure, running his finger past your every curve. he finally makes his decision of which part of you he wants to play with next. he leans forwards taking your nipple into his mouth. you moan at this new, warm feeling against your sensitive bud. he pulls off, only a string of saliva from his plump pink lips connecting you two.
your stomach feels like it’s about to explode from the upcoming orgasm. it’s your third one tonight. the overstimulation is getting to you. the stream of praises continue to spill out of his mouth and right into your oblivious ears. your eyes sting with hot tears that begin to rush down your face.
wet lips swollen form sucking and kissing, they part to alert him of your state, but all that comes out is whines of his name. he’s fucked you dumb.
he looks up into your glossy eyes, cupping your face and carresing those pretty pink parted lips of yours. “ awhh, what have i done to you, pretty girl?” he mocks your state as if he doesn’t know. he does.you bite your lip to contain your sobs. “don’t cry, ive got you” he whispers, his words making clench around him.
feelings of pleasure and lust overtake your emotions. your head is foggy with too many thoughts to count. jungkook groans as his finds his way to your hair. he brings you close by your neck, which is covered in his love for you. he runs his hot tounge along it.
finally, your release comes along. it paints your pussy and his stomach in a milky tone. “ ready for me to fill you up?” he half says half moans. god, this man knew how fold you. he’s like a drug, you can’t seem to get enough.
he shoots his load, coaxing your walls with his thick cum. before it can make more of a mess, he swipes the bit that’s dripping off your clit and shoves his fingers into your mouth.
you gag on his fingers, strings of spit and cum mixed together pouring out form the side of your mouth. “ thankyou kookie” you pant, still sucking on the remains of your liquids whilst catching your breath.
he withdraws his fingers from your warm mouth, caressing your lips once more. he brings you off his cock. you look down at his pink slit, which is still oozing a little. he slips on his black breifs, walking towards the dark hallway. he turns back to see your head pop through one of his black shirts.
jungkook paces back to his bedside, grabbing his phone and pressing straight onto the little camera icon at the bottom of the screen. “ stay still baby”. he then grabs a handful of your ass, spreading your cheek and snapping a pic.
“ jungkook-ah! how many times have i told you” you playfully swat his hand away. he just flashes you that infamous toothy bunny smile and leaves the room.
he looks up at the ceiling, knowing he’d choose you in a heartbeat. he didn’t even have to think about it. he just knew. but what he didn’t know is how he was going to throw the whole plan of the future with jihyo away. once again, jungkook’s eyebrows knitted together at the thought of her, of it. the whole thing made him feel weird.
2K notes · View notes
trappolia · 13 days
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KISS ME ONCE AGAIN ── silver x gn!reader, 1.6k
silver has always taken his time with you.
he has never been able to tell you why. lilia says that it is just the way he is, ever since he was a boy. he plays by the rules. he goes by a routine that is, as much as possible, not too affected by his strange sleeping habits.
it is why he goes through the meticulous steps of courting you, offering you flowers and gifting you with thoughtful trinkets and even writing letters for your family while your worlds remain separate. it is why it had to be you to take the first step and kiss him one night during a star-gazing date because gods damn it all, you’re sick of waiting.
( silver laughed and laughed that night as you apologised for your callous actions; because you were so cute, because he was so in love, because it all felt like a dream come true when he allowed himself to ignore tradition to cup your cheeks and pull you into another kiss. )
silver discovers very early on that even when he takes his time, it's all still overwhelming. like a dream come true, he used to tell lilia in bouts of deliriousness when he's still caught between dream and reality and his mind is too muddled with sleep to care about embarrassing himself in front of the fae who had raised him.
like a dream come true.
but what is his dream, exactly?
a cottage deep in the forest of briar valley, with ivy growing up the walls and over the red-tiled roof. soft, packed dirt with growing flowers of all kinds, spring blossoms of pink, yellow, blue, red, protected by a low wall. there are no horrors with dripping ink and dragging claws, no glowing emerald eyes or scaled wings. just grass and flowers and sky and nothing.
no. not nothing. because there's you.
"i just cleaned, so remember to take off your boots by the door!" silver hears you call out from inside the cottage. his chest quakes as he lets out a ragged breath, his bag dropping as he rids himself of the extra weight.
the floor below his dirty boots is clean slate compared to the cluttered kitchen to his left and the living area to his right. silver sees the same threadbare couch by the stone fireplace, cluttered with throw pillows and blankets and an unfinished knitting project. the couch is old. used. loved. there are some closed doors beyond the stairs, but silver doesn't have to check to know what lies behind them. his old childhood bedroom where lilia used to tuck him in. a bathroom that has been flooded one or more than a few times when he got too carried away with playtime. the small study where he used to have his lessons on reading and writing.
there's something about the sight of his childhood home that sets silver off, as if he’s caught in crosswinds, but he fumbles his way inside anyway, toeing his shoes off out of ingrained politeness. his footfalls feel heavy and light all at once against the wooden floors as he walks — almost as if by habit — to the kitchen where he had heard your voice come from.
"there you are," you beam at him, putting a kettle of water on top of the same stove that silver had watched his father cook his meals so many times. your brows furrow when you notice the strange expression on his face; the emotions whirling in his aurora irises like a hurricane and the trembling of his bottom lip.
you frown, wiping your hands on a cloth rag. "silver? what's wrong?"
silver lets out a ragged breath, his hand shaking as it comes up to cradle your own as you cup his face in your palm. what is wrong? this is all he's ever wanted, isn't it? a life with you in the woods he had grown up in, free of worries and dangers and hurt and anger. he's built a home with no fear, no yelling, no uncertainties. just like the life lilia always wanted to give him.
it's a dream come true.
"you're a dream," silver whispers when he realises, his hands coming up to cradle your face in turn. he's shaking, he knows that even with his mind whirling, but he just can't help it— he has to touch you, make sure this isn't— this isn't a nightmare—
no. no, no, no. malleus wouldn't do that. this is his dream. this is what his heart has always yearned for.
"my dream."
"well, aren't you sappy today?" you muse, lips quirking up in that soft smile that silver oh so adores to kiss. "what's the occasion?"
"i—" silver opens his mouth, but no words come out. what can he say? what can he do, knowing that this is all he's ever wanted, but this is a dream. this is a dream and you're not real but gods, does silver want you to be.
a beat passes, and your smile turns sad.
"you know, don't you?"
silver feels his heart ache. he wants to tell you no. no, please keep this veil over my eyes. pretend i don’t know this isn’t real. please. please.
you reach out, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear with such tenderness that silver feels like crying. “you’ve always been so smart, silver.”
“i’m sorry,” he allows himself to say, because this is the least he owes you— this perfect imitation of you that his mind, malleus’s magic, has managed to conjure, because in the short time you’ve known him, you’ve managed to ingrain yourself into every fibre of his being so that even under this spell, all silver can dream about is you, you, you.
silver doesn't want to wake up. he doesn't, he really doesn't. there's something in him that pulls at his heartstrings, tugging at every vein and nerve as if begging him to stay, please stay. there must be a reason why you're always falling asleep, why this had to happen. just stay. this is a dream come true, why would you want to wake up?
“you’re still there,” silver says in a voice so small, it feels like he’s a little boy again, crying and clinging onto lilia like the fever that sticks to his skin and reminds him of his mortality.
“you’re still there, and i’m here.”
his childhood home is small, but within the cottage and with your hands cradling his face, the thick walls feels unnaturally closer, like something is breathing on the back of his neck. he’s reminded of you, somewhere in night raven college, trapped within your own dream. do you think of him, he wonders? has he become your new dream, just as you have become his?
will he ever see you again?
silver can't bear the thought of you somehow waking up from your dream — a matter of when rather than if, because silver knows that you've always had a knack for getting out of impossible situations like this — and realising that he had left you alone to stay in this eternal sleep, with this dream– this illusion of what could have been.
“i have to go,” silver whispers, and his heart breaks because this might be a dream, but it’s still you. how can he tell you he’s going to leave? he can’t do that. he can’t break your heart like that, he can’t—
"i'm sorry. i'm sorry— i'm so, so sorry.”
he expects you to stop him. what do the stories say about dreams where you’re supposed to be kept unaware, blissfully oblivious to the fact that this utopia is not your reality? silver expects this dream version of you to pull some sort of trick to lure him back into your trap—
but instead you just smile softly, reaching out to stroke his face, "how lucky i am to have someone like you love me."
silver hears something crack, resonating in his soul. is it the chains of malleus’s magic breaking its hold on him, or the last pieces of his heart shattering at last? he doesn’t know.
maybe it’s both.
but whatever it is, silver knows he doesn’t have much time. his hands cup your cheeks, pulling you close to him with the desperation of a dying man.
he feels you gasp against his mouth, lips parting and allowing his tongue to slip inside. he maps the cavern of your mouth as if immortalising it in his mind, like he’ll never see you again after this— because that is very well a possibility, no matter how he tries to ignore it.
silver kisses you like it’s his last day in this godforsaken world, because it might as well be, and great seven, he should have done this every time he kissed you. he should have kissed you first. he should have kissed you every moment he could instead of taking his time because now he can hear the sand running in the hourglass, and he’s blind to how much time he has left, and he just wants to see you in the flesh again, please, please, please—
the two of you part an eternity later, but it still feels much too soon. there’s so much love in him, and too little time, and silver feels like drowning.
"wait for me," silver pleads. he'll make this dream come true, he swears. he’ll give you all the love he has in this wretched body of his, and then some. he’ll never sleep again even, if only to make this dream come true.
"i will," you whisper breathlessly—
—and with a bittersweet smile and a final, fleeting kiss to his lips, you let him go.
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© trappolia 2024
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welcometomyoasis · 8 days
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There's nothing tea can't fix | jeon wonwoo
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Synopsis: When you’re drowning in work, your boyfriend knows just the thing to cheer you up - tea.  Wonwoo x gn! reader | fluff, comfort | 0.7k words | warnings: stress | not proof read A/n: if you are wondering why Wonwoo sounds like Tom Hiddleston, i was reading loki fanfics haha
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Wonwoo was good at everything. But if there was one thing Wonwoo was exceptionally good at, it was that he was very in tune with your emotions. No matter how much you tried to keep your emotions in check, or how much you tried to downplay how much stress you were under so you wouldn’t worry him, he knew. 
He was observant like that. He knew you were stressed from the way your jaw clenched as you stared at the computer screen. He knew from the way you mindlessly looked for snacks around the kitchen. Also, he definitely could tell you were stressed from the way you tossed and turned endlessly in bed over the past few weeks. 
It all came to a head yesterday when he arrived home to see you hunched over your desk, harshly rubbing your hands over your eyes to ease the tension. He saw the way you looked up at him, smiling as if nothing was wrong despite the redness in your eyes, and the faint streaks of tears that still lingered on your beautiful face. 
So today, Wonwoo vowed to take you out for a break. You needed one desperately so you could rest physically and emotionally. It took a lot of coaxing and pleading on his part before you finally agreed to go out. And that was only because he swore that he would bring you to the library so you could still do your work, just with a different location. 
“Wonu? Love? This isn’t a library…” your voice, laced with confusion, broke Wonwoo out of his train of thought. 
Wonwoo held your hand tighter, bringing you closer to his side. He chuckled, “Oh but it is a library.”
You turned to take a look at what was before you. It was a luxurious looking room, full of tables covered in cream coloured linen cloth. The chairs were velvet, and there was a delicious, rich floral aroma in the air that wasn’t too overwhelming. Waiters dressed in suits fluttered around the room, topping up the patrons’ champagne flutes and tea cups. Near the far end of the room, there were rows upon rows of enamel tins. You watched as a member of the staff lowered a tin, opening it to scoop a tiny portion of tea leaves into a fancy looking glass teapot. 
You gave Wonwoo a tiny accusatory glare, though you were unable to stop yourself from smiling, “Wonu? What have you done? This is a tea room, not a library!”
Wonwoo inclined his head regally, “Well yes this is a tea room. But it is technically also a library of tea.”
Laughing, you exclaimed, “Wonu you tease, you’ve been spending too much time with Jeonghan.” 
Wonwoo simply shrugged his shoulders, “Love, you were so stressed. I appreciate that you’re trying not to worry me but it’s not healthy to keep your feelings bottled up inside. You were burning out. I had to do something. And as you always say, there’s nothing tea can’t fix. Personally, I prefer coffee but you do love tea. Plus, I’ve been here before with Mingyu. I thought that this would be the perfect place to bring you. They have a wide selection of tea and desserts.”
Touched at Wonwoo’s thoughtful actions and words, you gave his hand a squeeze, leaning forward to peck his cheek. You said sincerely, “Thank you Wonu. I mean it.”
“That said, I don’t know how to feel that you’ve been here with Mingyu before me.” you added cheekily.
Wonwoo blushed slightly at the public display of affection and your light teasing. He sputtered, “Mingyu was curious… you know they have a lot of tea… he said something about wanting to know how tea lovers live…” 
Quieting down quickly, Wonwoo whispered, “you’re always welcome my love. No thanks needed. Ever.”
Then, Wonwoo straightened out his back. Gesturing towards the tea room with your intertwined hands, he asked, “shall we my love? There are so many blends for your tasting pleasure.”
Nodding, you replied, “we shall.” 
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taglist: @weird-bookworm @wonijinjin @babyleostuff @wishing-fieshes @kwanienies @mayashu @megseungmin @porridgesblog @haecien @mirxzii @scoupsofcherries @eightlightstar @brownsugarbaybee @zaggprincess2 @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @treehouse-mouse @vcutparis @heavenfilm
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cherizzx · 26 days
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Miles 42 Headcannons ( We got a man yall 🤭🤭
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Miles 42x Black Reader
OK first off, THIS IS A 15/16 YEAR OLD CHILD HE BROKE AS HELL
Like he not broke broke but, hell shadow box for $5 and win ts. To me I feel he got a little money saved form how his dad taught his savings, and he got a back account because remember he's like a hitman he gets paid, but he's not like rich enough to the point he buys you like Rolex watches, Catier, Dior vintage bags from the 70's spring collection.
Next, I feel like to me evry says hes like some bad boy to me i just think hes troubled but, hes a good kid. In the first movie Miles acted the same way and in the second movie he's more mature I feel like Miles-42 matured faster since his dad died; he could never play with action figures when no action was taken to save his dad
It very sad how they describe him in fics as like a drug dealer bad kid when really, I think he's just a matured yet still goofy version of Miles like imagine Hobie attitude with miles it practically the same!
Also, more on the dating side of things Miles-42 I believe would not trust his s/o til 3 months later or even more. Miles-42 is a hitman, and he may have been taught people are going to burn your bridge when they have the chance so, Miles stays clear of really revealing his inner turmoil's til he can fully trust you.
But, when Miles does open up he's like a little flower all nice and smells good yet can still have you in the bed sick and tired if tried hard enough, I feel like his emotions would turn more gentler like he wasn't neglecting you but he kind of was condescending when you show a lot of affection and until you prove your real, hell just make the relationship picture worthy and not living worthy.
But an opinion I know people would say is true is that Miles both of them cannot flirt. Remember than most likely Miles-42 dad and Miles-1160 uncle died at or around the same time which means they both experienced the same ' I almost messed up my chances with this cool girl because my uncle/dad didn't teach me how to be a smooth criminal' but to me with how he put his hand on Miles-1160 shoulder..that man had one girlfriend in the 5th grade and he's been feelin himself since then.
Now before you two started dating you have crushes, Miles didn't have many crushes to my idea. I feel like he didn't see it like he thought of kids as friends and if he did like smb it would be like quick and over with simply because he would try to be friends more.
Like imagine you tryna shoot your shot with him and he just asks you what your favorite power ranger...that what I mage would happen but he's 15/16 so instead it him saying ' cool but, not interested' like he's not rude about it but, you would feel he not messin with you,
Buttt if he does have like a real crush on you, I feel like he would try to get to know you by socials than irl, like asking Ganke can he ask for your socials and then following you and from there trying bag you by cheesy but smooth texts. He would ask about your day, what was the homework, what clubs you do ask a conversation starter but, if you feelin him hell asking about music because I feel like Miles-42 and Miles-1160 both have a music bone in them, and you know Miles-42 listens to good music (won't ever catch him listening to mf Lil Pump ass) I also feel like Miles would ask about pop culture opinions to see how you are as a person like do you watch any popular tv shows? Ohhhh your favorite is Greys Anatomy... so you have nothing to do in your time? That what hell thinks.
My last little head cannon is more of what he would do if Ms. Rio liked you, which because he respectful baddies she likes us quickly, so What would miles do if Rio likes us 🧐
First, Miles wouldn't tell but shell know simply because Miles never smiles at a text, it doesn't matter if he won $128302 million, he not smiling until he met our lovely baddie reader now, he is giggling and kicking his feet. To Ms. Rio that's not normal, it gives her a sense of his old self and she doesn't pry into his social like a helicopter parent but, she doesn't take a peek over his shoulder and when Miles does get the courage to tell her she just smiling acting like she aint know.
Miles seeing his mom like would take a big relief off his shoulders because he thought about the reddit stories where the mom is crazy and now, he thinks his momma gonna run us over with a truck and blame it on the next-door neighbor (true miles fashion)
His mom liking you also lets him know he picked the right one, mothers know best when it comes to fake people for some odd reason and if Rio didn't side-eye you when she met you then your good and he's inviting you to his house more often. I'm not going to talking about Uncle Aaron because I feel like they not as close like that but that a head cannon for a sad day.
But, at the end of the day Miles wants us bad 🤭🤭
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the--rebel--fae · 2 months
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Was wondering if I could get a little something with Angel? A bit angst -> fluff maybe he comes back after a rough fight with val and just starts throwing himself on reader until they get him to talk about it and comfort him by reassuring him that they don’t want him for his body like others do.
Angel doesn’t get enough love on here and I’m done with it😭
Thanks Pookie! Much love!
A/N: Of course you can my dear! I totally agree Angel needs more love! I did it slightly differently but I still incorporated as much of your request as possible. Writing Angel is apparently a lot harder than I thought, but I still loved doing this. I hope you like it!
Pairing: Angel Dust x Reader
TW: A little bit of swearing, angst but then comfort, slightly suggestive--It's Angel Dust that's a given, and small references to abuse.
Word Count: 902
A Hazbin Love
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“You know Husk, I knew you were good at creating alcoholic drinks, but,” You took a sip of your coffee and rested a hand on your cheek, enjoying the taste of the rich caffeine as it started to work its way into your system. “This coffee is probably the best I’ve ever had.” 
It was generally pretty quiet in the mornings in the hotel, but you’ve been nursing a rather nasty headache after fighting with your best friend and unfortunately for your heart–crush, Angel Dust
You kept seeing how he was treated by that horrible bastard Valentino day after day; and early this morning after hearing he was going to work, you well… snapped.”
Your heart hammered in your chest as you continued your frantic descent down the stairs of the hotel, almost accidentally knocking over Sir Penitous in the process.
“Angel,” you panted, trying to bring breath back into your lungs. “You need to somehow get out of this. I know he owns your soul, but maybe there’s a way–”
Angel Dust whirled on you. A mix of pain and anger on his face. “What? A way out? Hah, Dollface don’t make me laugh. You think if there was a way I wouldn’t have tried?” He ran a hand through his hair, an action you’ve seen him do many times when he was upset and didn’t know how to process his emotions properly. 
You tried to put a comforting hand on Angel Dust’s arm only to have him bat it away. “Look. (Y/n) You’re looking out for me, I get it. Charlie tried this before and it only made it worse. So back off.” Angel Dust sighs and turns to leave but then pauses and glances back at your hurt expression. “Why do you even give a damn anyway? You’ve always stuck your nose up at my work every time I tried to talk ‘bout it.”
You clicked your teeth and balled your hands into fists. “Hah. You know why I cringe every time you talk about your work? Because I see how it destroys you. Every. Time. I’m not some prude like you want to believe Angel. But I’m your best friend and I care about you dammit!”
“Then stop caring!”
“I can’t! You’re my best friend and–and I’m in love with you!”  
You ran your hands through your hair remembering when you yelled that. The second that was out of your mouth you froze and Angel Dust just walked out the door and didn’t say a word.
“Well, I made it strong just for you kid, after that conversation a few hours ago I can tell you needed it.”
You cringe slightly at the reminder of what happened between you and Angel. “Thanks Husk. I-I just hope he doesn’t hate me. I–” you cringed. “I don’t think I could live with myself if that happened.”
“You really think I’d hate ya toots?” A familiar voice that makes your heart twist sounds out just mere feet from you.
You go and glance at Husk, only to see he already made himself scarce. Sneaky bastard, he probably knew Angel was coming over you think. 
Turning in your seat you let out a small gasp seeing the state that Angel Dust is once again in. A light bruise over his left eye, his fur ruffled in various places, but even still, to you, he looks as handsome as ever.
“I-I just thought with the sudden confession,” You trail off, your voice getting caught in your throat.
Angel Dust walks forward and gently wraps you in a hug. “Yea, that surprised the hell outta me but,” Angel Dust chuckled. “To be honest toots, that confession of yours is the only thing that kept me goin’ today.”
Angel Dust picked you up so you had to wrap your legs around his waist. “Now I’m gonna show you how much that actually meant to me.”
You bit your lip, as much as you really wanted to see where that takes the two of you, you knew that it was Angel’s way of evading and avoiding any real feelings. You pushed off of him gently and shook your head.
“Angel, I don’t want you to just throw yourself at me and think that I just want a physical relationship. If we are to be in a relationship, I want all of you, not just the physical aspect. I want dates, inside jokes, nights of just cuddling together.”
Angel Dust gave a confused look but then his eyes started watering and he plunked down into a nearby chair and put his face in his hands and his shoulders started to shake. The tears flowed freely now. “I-I want that, I truly do but I just…I don’t know how. Thanks to Val all I know is the physical part. I’m just…broken that way.”
At his words, you felt tears prick in your eyes. You walked around to the front of the chair and rested your head in his lap. “Angel, I’m so sorry you have to go through that. It’s not right. That’s why I was so upset this morning. But you’re not broken. No matter what you think. And I’m here for you. Forever and always.”
Angel whipped away his tears and put a hand on your cheek making you look up at him. “You sure (Y/n)?”
You found yourself leaning into his touch. “Positive.”
Hope you enjoyed love! I always love getting the chance to write for Angel Dust, the man needs more love. So feel free to request for more of him anytime!
And if you guys want even more stories--like maybe your own personalized several-page long one-shots or even a multi-chap fic take a look at my Etsy Shop! I do commissions! I even have listings for Hazbin Hotel!
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