#that song lives in my head rent free and sometimes I just hope around the house singing it 😂 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gimmethatagustd · 1 year

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who's your bias? | kth

Everyone says idols shouldn’t date their fans. Little did you know the crazy sasaengs aren't the ones who might ruin your relationship. It might just be your boyfriend's best friends.

» pairing: idol!taehyung x music producer girlfriend!reader

» wc/date: 12.6k | January 2023

» notes: this was entirely self-indulgent 😂 i hope my taehyung whores enjoy my first idol au oneshot. also i wrote 80% of this while i was high and with no beta so if it's bad, now you know why

» masterlist | ao3 | join my taglist

» what was jai listening to? impatient - jeremih ft. ty dolla $ign

“Y/N, stop it right now.”

Your boyfriend breathes the command faster than you can even open your mouth to greet him. With a roll of your eyes, you put your phone on speaker and sit it on the floor beside you. Rummaging through the cardboard boxes littering your apartment is easier done with both hands.

“Why hello, Taehyung. What a pleasure to hear from you.”

“Are you seriously mad at me right now?” From the whine in his voice you’re positive he’s wearing a deep pout, bottom lip jutting out as far as it can. You love kissing his pouts away.

But not this time! And not just because you’re on opposite sides of the world.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep? It’s so late there and I’m sure you’re very tired from displaying your dick to all of America for three hours.”

The cardboard box in front of you has “BEDROOM” scribbled in your father’s handwriting on the side in thick, black Sharpie. It’s full of little trinkets and random decor. A Shooky plushie is crammed into the corner in between a cracked Army bomb and a small framed photo of you with your parents. You smile to yourself despite your boyfriend’s huffing over the phone. Your father had given you a strange look as he helped you pack the items as if to ask, Really? Do you really need these?

Just because you’re dating a member of BTS now doesn’t mean you can’t cherish your old BTS merch! It’s not weird, in your opinion. It would only be weird if you made it weird. And you weren’t making it weird.

“I did not display my dick!”

You roll your eyes for probably the fifth time while you ponder where to put Shooky. You'd kept it on your dresser in your old home in the States. Something tells you Taehyung won’t appreciate the lack of a Tata beside it.

“You were thrusting and throwing it around! And pointing at it while doing it, too!”

“Y/N!”

“Don’t Y/N me! I have my TikTok evidence!”

With your cracked Army bomb in hand, you open the app in question, scrolling through your favorited videos until you get to the one. The one uploaded only a day before. The one you’d texted to Taehyung which prompted his immediate phone call.

“And what does the caption say?” you ask but then cut Taehyung off before he can answer the question. “It says, and I quote, ‘I will never forget Taehyung doing this. I looped this for hours. Kim Taehyung lives in my head rent-free.’ Hashtag Taehyung. Hashtag HipsDon’tLie. With the woozy face emoji. And do we need to discuss the music choice?”

“Y/N, can you please-”

“Slut Me Out,” you deadpan in a monotone voice. “That is the song they chose for you.”

The other end is silent for so long you start to feel bad. Every time your jealousy spikes, you seem to act on impulse rather than thinking through how you might make Taehyung feel. Yes, he sometimes plays his part in the group a little too well, but you also knew that this was his job. It’s his job to make people get excited - excited for the music, the group, and himself as an idol.

Still, your opinion is the most important to him, and you know that.

“Jagiya…” Taehyung sniffles and you feel your heart shatter.

Fuck, you really are a bitch, aren’t you?

“Tae, I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I just… I don’t know, I didn’t really think anything of it. It’s just an act, y’know?”

You did know. Away from the stage and the cameras, Taehyung is quiet, almost shy. He’s happy to be a silent observer of whatever chaos his members create. He gifts everyone with puffy cheeks and boxy grins, sometimes a boisterous laugh that manages to make your heart soar every time. But the soft-spoken soul you listen to old school R&B with while you smoke strawberry swisher blunts on the balcony late into the night, and convince that yes, the apartment is soundly built and no, the balcony will not randomly fall out beneath you… That person is different from the person you see wearing a resting bitch face in interviews or the person who chews away at imaginary gum during concerts.

You find all versions of Taehyung endearing, although the fake gum chewing is kind of embarrassing if you wanted to be perfectly honest.

“I know, Tae. I’m sorry I’m being judgmental for no reason,” you insist and you hope he believes you. Complaints about his idol status typically resulted in red eyes and sniffles, yet sometimes you couldn’t stop yourself from pushing his pressure points despite his sensitivity.

Your apology puts Taehyung in a better mood because his following comment is cheekier than you expect.

“You get jealous a lot, jagi.” His smug tone is close to bringing back your irritation.

“I am not jealous of some fans in a stadium, thanks.”

“Good,” he says more cheerfully. “‘Cause I only have sights for you.”

That makes you laugh and you feel your earlier heaviness disappear. “You mean, you only have eyes for me?”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

You shake your head as if Taehyung can see you. A few photo strips are beneath Shooky in the cardboard box. You silently curse your father (respectfully and endearingly) for casually placing something so fragile in the bottom of a box. The photos are of you and Taehyung in a photo booth at a birthday party for an idol you didn’t know. An actor, you think. You thumb at one of the corners of the photo strip that has curled inward. Taehyung’s hair was straight then, and short, falling just above his ears. You much prefer the thick waves he wears now.

“You’re so cute.”

“Only for you.”

“Oh shut up, now you’re being corny.”

You’re not sure why, but you try to suppress the smile Taehyung’s light flirting coaxes out of you, even though he can’t see you. Accepting his teasing affection has always been hard for you. All the boys are too caring; it makes you uncomfortable, but not in a bad way. You’re just not used to men acting like that. They’re all very different from the men you’ve been around growing up. There’s a reason Taehyung can’t listen to you talk about your ex-boyfriends without getting pissed.

“Mmm, maybe. I’m also sleepy,” Taehyung slurs. His voice is so soft you almost can’t hear him, so you lift your phone to your ear rather than use the speaker setting. The smoothness feels like a lullaby gentle enough to carry you to sleep, even though it’s still daylight in Seoul.

“Goodnight, Kim.” You decide for him, knowing he would stay on the phone if you let him.

Confirming your thoughts, Taehyung grumbles when he speaks next. “I love you, jagi.”

“I love you, too.” People always talk about the “honeymoon phase” when the butterflies disappear and couples no longer feel the exciting draw toward each other anymore. It’s been less than a year since you started dating Taehyung, but you’re confident that your heart will always flutter when you hear those three words so confidently spoken. Taehyung had been the first to say it; something about that makes you even more sure of your relationship.

“Can’t wait to see you soon so I can slut you out.”

“... please go to bed and never say that ever again.”

In the distance, you hear someone start yelling. The noise is accompanied by a rather aggressive ruffling sound, as though Taehyung’s phone is being rubbed against fabric.

“Are you two having phone sex?” The second voice accuses, this time sounding much clearer.

“Hyung, leave me alone,” Taehyung whines. “Y/N, tell him to go away.”

You let out a long sigh, but the grin finally cuts through the hardened expression you try to maintain. “Goodnight, Jimin.”

It sounds like the two boys start physically fighting each other before Taehyung lets out a breathy, “Goodnight, baby,” accompanied by Jimin screeching something you can’t understand before the call ends.

With a shake of your head, you leave your phone on the floor and get up to position Shooky and your Army bomb on your dresser. You’ll figure out what to do with it later, you decide.

Later ends up being three more days of you giving a half-assed attempt to sort through the boxes. Your bedroom is mostly organized by the end of the week with only one more box remaining, shoved into the corner of the room. It’s a bunch of family keepsakes that will make you cry if you start looking at them.

Right now you want to make a beeline to the kitchen.

It’s hard not to trip over all the boxes that litter your apartment, most of them already torn open and half-empty. The kitchen hasn’t been fully unpacked, either, so you opt for instant ramen in the microwave rather than dig for utensils to cook a proper meal. It’s pretty bad. You and Taehyung are a terrible match; you both have no idea how to cook. There’s no point in all the fancy kitchenware your parents bought you. You’ll never master any of it. It’s not because you don’t put in any effort, like Taehyung. You’re genuinely shit at cooking.

And baking? That’s even worse.

You stand in the middle of your living room while you shovel ramen in your mouth. It’s too hot, so you inhale loudly through your teeth to cool the food off before it scorches your throat. There’s so much you need to do, and it’s making you nauseous thinking about it. Somewhere in the mix of boxes are your Hangeul textbooks that you should be studying in your free time instead of playing video games and video chatting with your friends. It’s only been a week and a half, but you already feel lonely without the constant presence of your friends and family. The boys have been on tour the entire time. Namjoon decided you moving to Seoul while they’re on tour would make your arrival less suspicious, and everyone would be more focused on the tour than whatever an unknown American music producer is doing.

In your opinion, Namjoon was overthinking the whole thing as he is wont to do. But you let him be bossy because you know his heart is in the right place. It’s not like the public knows you’re dating Taehyung. There hasn’t been any press or rumors about you at all. You’re genuinely unknown.

You prefer it that way.

Your fork scrapes the bottom of the bowl and you realize you’ve scarfed down the ramen without much thought. You suppose it’s easier to do that when you aren’t using chopsticks. (You’ve managed to master them, for the most part, but you prefer to fall back on forks when you’re alone at home.)

You place the bowl on top of the large cardboard box in front of the couch. It has the pieces for your coffee table inside, but you haven’t had the energy to put it together yet. The part of you that allows your feminism to leave your body whenever the boys are around is kind of hoping you can get one of them to build it for you. Maybe Yoongi. He’s into that kind of stuff.

With a sigh, you flop onto the couch and slip your phone out of your back pocket. A few Whatsapp and KakaoTalk notifications light up the screen. You used to be terrible at responding to texts, but moving halfway across the world has made you a better texter. It’s a way to fill the loneliness.

[Alex] hey bitch

[Alex] this 15 hour time difference sucks ass

[You] I’m sorry

[Alex] its fine. i’ll forgive you for chasing money and dick

[You] I’m not chasing dick omg

[Alex] dont lie

[Alex] whats that tiffany pollard meme

[You] Stop

[Alex] i know his dick is big. i know it! i know it’s big!

[You] I hate you

[Alex] you didnt deny it. anywayyy did you see this?

As much as you adore Alex, she’s an expert at getting under your skin. You remind yourself that it’s all harmless as you click on the link she texts you.

BTS' V woos fans with his casual rockstar visuals on his return from world tour

Kim Taehyung, also known professionally as V of BTS, was spotted at John F. Kennedy International Airport on Friday. The singer is reportedly returning early to South Korea ahead of his band members after completing the final performance of their…

You don’t know why you read the shitty k-pop tabloids. You figure it’s the same reason why people make a hobby out of watching bad movies. There’s a weird itch in the back of your brain that can’t be scratched unless you open the link Alex texts you— teasingly, of course, because she thinks she’s being funny. Your friends don’t understand the nauseous feeling you get when you scroll through the article and accidentally click on a link that takes you to an external website flaunting doctored photos of your boyfriend with Jennie Kim.

BTS’ V and BLACKPINK’s Jennie Spend Romantic Weekend in Paris

You know it’s a lie because the weekend in question was the same weekend Taehyung flew you to Seoul to do a final walkthrough of your apartment before you signed off on it. Taehyung spent every second of that weekend by your side.

The article makes you sick anyway.

You’re so caught up in trying to craft a text to Alex to explain why she needs to leave you the fuck alone that you don’t hear the sound of your apartment’s front door open over the music you’re listening to.

“I’m gone for a few months and I come home to you listening to some other band?”

“Holy shit, Tae, you can’t do that to me,” you yelp when Taehyung leans over the back of the couch to hover over your shoulder.

“Explain yourself.” His voice is warm honey and milk even when his strong eyebrows point downward in mock disappointment. The expression is almost convincing, his naturally sharp features making conjuring up a dark appearance easier.

“You can’t tell me Stray Kids’ new album isn’t good.”

“Jagiya, I just got home,” Taehyung whines. “Kiss me and stop thirsting over Australian boys.”

He touches your chin to tip your head backward. You lean your head against the back of the couch and look up at him. The position makes you think of the iconic Spiderman kiss, seeing Taehyung’s face upside down above yours.

“Y’know, I worked on a few of their songs. Before I met you.”

The confession is meant to tease him for making fun of your music choice. Of course, words’ impact often diverges from intent. It’s in the twist of his face and the way he pulls back slightly just before his lips brush against yours that you know you’ve made him jealous.

“Oh did you?” His hair hangs around his face as he leans over you.

“Mhm, Bang Chan’s accent is really cu—”

You shouldn’t be shocked when strong hands squeeze your waist and Taehyung hauls you off the couch to stand in front of him. He wraps his arm around your waist to pull you tightly against his chest.

“You didn’t work with any other groups before us, okay?”

You purse your lips to hold in the laughter that threatens to explode from your chest. All you can do is nod in agreement. It reminds you of girls getting upset when they remember their boyfriends dated other people before them.

“Good.”

Taehyung dips his head down to connect his lips with yours. The closeness of his body forces you to inhale his cologne and feel goosebumps travel down your arms. It’s been months since you’ve so much as held Taehyung’s hand and you feel like you’ve been starved. Your body trembles so severely that you dig your nails into his biceps to hold yourself upright. You moan into his mouth, already open and ready for you because Taehyung is nothing but giving.

The kiss isn’t bruising, not yet. It’s slow and deep. Taehyung takes his time reminding himself of your taste. You grip the nape of his neck to pull him down as you meet him by standing on your tiptoes. His height has always been one of your favorite aspects of his physical appearance. Dark, watchful eyes that pierce into your soul might be at the top of the list.

His tongue swirls around yours, only retreating to suck your bottom lip into his mouth. His teeth graze along the plump skin, each nibble making you dizzy in the head. You normally hate wet kisses, but there’s something satisfying about seeing Taehyung’s lips pink and shiny with your spit when he finally pulls away. Pride thrums in your chest; you did that. You made his tan skin flush pink. You made his eyes dark and sharp. You made his breathing ragged and desperate.

And, fuck, does it feel good.

You run your fingers along his sharp jawline and watch the muscles flex beneath his taunt skin. “Don’t clench your jaw like that. It’s not good for you,” you muse, allowing your fingers to skim over his Adam’s apple.

“I’m trying to stay calm.”

Your eyebrows fly up with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Wanna bend you over the couch and fuck you until you can’t walk,” Taehyung says with such a gentle tone that the stark difference between what he says and how he says it has your body trembling once again.

You inhale sharply and let your hand fall from his throat. Instead, you reach for the lapels of his leather jacket and squeeze them.

“Why don’t you?”

You can’t look at him when you ask. Even though you’ve been dating for almost a year, Taehyung still intimidates the hell out of you sometimes. The darkness of his eyes when he gets horny sends you reeling. You’re sure if you look up, you’ll see The Look. He stares at you unabashedly with an expression of desire so strong you feel like he might consume you just by looking at you.

“You haven’t eaten yet and I need to take a shower.”

“How do you know I haven’t eaten yet?” With a pout, you finally dare to look your boyfriend in the face. The way he gapes at you is judgmental and doesn’t make you feel devour-worthy at all.

“I know you,” he scoffs. “You’re just like Jimin. I bet you haven’t even been awake more than two hours.”

Barely a year into your relationship and he’s already reading you like an open book. You can’t stay salty about it when his bread cheeks come out and he’s giggling at the frustrated “hmph” you let out.

“I’ll be fast,” he promises with a smirk that collapses into another fit of giggles. The hearty slap on your ass encourages you toward the kitchen while Taehyung makes his way to the bathroom.

You did already eat, but today is an outlier. Normally, you are like Jimin, staying up too late and sleeping in longer than everyone else. And sometimes you’re like Yoongi, too. You get so caught up in the songs you’re working on that you forget to stop to eat or pee or look somewhere other than at a computer screen.

The move to Seoul threw you off your usual work schedule. Everything you need to get done is looming over your head like a dark cloud. If Namjoon comes back before you finish editing the English lyrics of his upcoming single, you might die of embarrassment, no matter how many times Taehyung insists that Namjoon won’t be disappointed.

Taehyung wasn’t lying about being quick. He’s wearing a white cotton t-shirt and grey sweatpants when he returns, hair damp and swept away from his face. You’re still standing at the fridge, painfully aware of how little food you have. Plenty of grapefruit soju, though. Priorities.

“Do you want ramen?” You eventually ask. When Taehyung doesn’t respond, you turn to give him a sheepish smile. He probably thinks you’re ridiculous.

Taehyung is sitting at the kitchen table with your phone in his hands. His eyebrows scrunch together and he turns to you with narrowed eyes.

“Why were you looking at this?”

He lifts your phone in your direction. The doctored photos of him and Jennie glare back at you. You feel your heart drop into the pit of your stomach.

“Tae, I didn’t—” You snap your mouth shut because, honestly, it looks bad. It looks bad no matter how you explain yourself because Taehyung’s bottom lip is already quivering and you know you’re both replaying the stupid TikTok phone call in your heads right now.

The two of you stare at each other for only god knows how long. You’re the first to break; not many people can hold their own in a staring contest with Kim Taehyung. Yoongi is probably the only one. Jungkook would give a valiant effort, but he’d ultimately crumble in a fit of nervous giggles. Taehyung is scary when he wants to be.

Dating Taehyung started as an unbelievably exciting experience. You had your brush with fame before meeting the boys, but Taehyung was the first idol to give you genuine attention beyond whatever job needed to be done. Not that you’d ever sought it out; you had more dignity than that. No, Taehyung pursued you. Who could blame you when you fell head over heels for the sinfully gorgeous man who seemed larger than life? The long legs, big hands, and chiseled features were dangerous enough. Throw in a glowing personality, quirky sense of humor, and a big-hearted desire to care for others and you had a man who was too good to be true.

And who are you? Some dumb American kid with average looks, a standoff personality as a result of having a bit of social anxiety (and trouble acclimating to a new country), and a penchant for fucking things up. Maybe it was your fault for not seriously considering how hard it was going to be to date an idol.

“C’mere, jagi,” Taehyung murmurs, beckoning you.

You expected waterworks— hell, you’re ready to start crying yourself. Instead, Taehyung wears a tired but soft smile. He holds your waist as you climb into his lap, straddling him. He wiggles a little in the chair to adjust you more comfortably on his thighs.

“Koreaboo, really?” He gathers your face in his hands, thumbs running across your cheeks. His hands are soft and you regret not washing your face when you woke up. Sometimes it’s not fun to date someone as beautiful as Taehyung.

“It was an accident.”

You avoid his gaze, but Taehyung coaxes you back to look him in the eyes. It’s hard. There’s so much passion swimming in them. He blinks up at you with an earnestness that makes your heart ache because you’re always the one causing problems.

“They could have at least used better pictures of me,” he complains with an exaggerated pout.

“Maybe I’ll send them some from my private collection.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Taehyung grins as he threatens you, so you grin back.

“Oh, I dare.”

Quick fingers dig into your sides and you let out an embarrassing squeal. Taehyung doesn’t let up on tickling you until you’ve got tears in your eyes and your threats to elbow him in the face start sounding a bit too real.

“Please don’t torture yourself with shit like that, okay?” He mumbles the request into your neck because your arms are thrown around his shoulders.

You slide your fingers into his hair to cradle his head against your chest. When you dig your nails into his scalp he lets out a low groan. Nothing about the position you’re in is sexual, but you’re quickly reminded that this is the most skin-on-skin contact you’ve had with your boyfriend in months. With that fact in mind, you don’t feel bad when you scoot further into his lap and squeeze his thighs with your own.

“Tae?”

“Hmm?” When he tilts his head back to look up at you, he’s got that spacey, blissed-out look on his face.

“Tell me you love me.” You place your finger against the little freckle on the tip of his nose.

The slow, boxy grin is almost better than hearing the words. Your finger migrates to touch the freckle on his lip.

“I love you with all my heart.” He punctuates the confession with a kiss on the tip of your finger. “Your turn.”

You roll your eyes, but it’s the reaction he’s looking for.

“I love you, too. You dork.”

“So romantic,” he laughs, but the amusement doesn’t reach his eyes. Instead, he watches you with lust darker than what consumed his expression earlier.

You sit with your breath burning in your lungs as Taehyung slips his hands beneath your baggy t-shirt. His smooth palms slide up your rib cage until he reaches your tits, palming one in each hand. The tilt of his chin tells you he wants another kiss, and who are you to deny him what he wants? You dig your nails in his hair harder while you kiss him, tugging to angle his head in the direction you want. Small moments like this give the appearance that you’re in control. And Taehyung loves domming while you both pretend you’re the one in charge.

He pulls back with a wet smack. If it was anyone else, you’d be ashamed of the whimper that sounds from your throat as Taehyung removes his hands from your shirt. You grip his hair tighter, but Taehyung just chuckles.

“So needy. What am I going to do with you?”

You could give him a couple of ideas. There isn’t time, though. Taehyung is already grasping your chin and tilting it down.

“Open up for me, okay?”

Your cheeks grow hot as you open your mouth. You already know where this is going, so you stick out your tongue. Still, it’s difficult not to squirm when Taehyung presses his index and middle fingers flat against the wet muscle.

“Suck.”

You swallow around his fingers, sucking as best you can as he begins to thrust them into your mouth. It’s vulgar, the wet suctioning sound of his fingers dragging against your tongue. In and out, a steady pace that doesn’t go too fast. Taehyung has such long, gorgeous fingers. You quite enjoy when he wrecks your insides with them until you’re on the brink of tears. Which you’ve come to find is something Taehyung thoroughly enjoys doing.

“You miss having your pretty mouth stuffed?”

You know any attempt at a spoken response will come out as a garbled mess. You whimper, eyes fluttering closed as you swirl your tongue around his fingers. You push your tongue in between his fingers and curl around them.

“Gonna suck my cock like this, jagi?” He purrs the question, ending it so breathy it’s almost a moan as he eases over the term of endearment. “Show me how much you miss me, hm?”

Maybe it’s the deep, sensual way he purrs jagi with heavy eyelids and that crooked smirk on his face. Maybe it’s because he bites his lip when he says it or that he lets his lip go with such slowness that you can see the way his teeth scrape across his plump bottom lip as it falls back into place. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s shoving his fingers just a bit deeper into your mouth. Maybe it’s all of these things that make you shift so that you can press your clothed pussy against Taehyung’s thigh.

He flexes the muscle as you start rutting against it, rolling your hips to the rhythm of his fingers gliding in and out of your mouth.

“Look at you.” His lips brush against the curve of your ear, sending a shiver down your back. “So desperate for me that you’re going to get off on only my thighs?”

You’re not the type to be able to orgasm just from rutting and friction like this, but Taehyung has managed to learn your body faster than you ever expected. He slips his free hand beneath the waistband of your leggings and underwear. It’s the quick circling of his thumb against your throbbing clit combined with the rutting of your hips that sends you over the edge.

“That’s it, baby, you did so well,” Taehyung whispers praise against the skin his lips have access to on your collarbones as you shudder in his lap. “Love seeing you cum, fuck, doing this shit over KakaoTalk fucking sucked.”

Taehyung finally removes his fingers from your mouth when you stop moving. Seeing the string of spit that connects his fingers to your lips makes you feel weak, but you’re riding the high of his praise and skillful fingers, so you don’t care.

He wipes your spit onto his sweatpants and gently holds your chin with his other hand. He gives you a soft smile and rubs his thumb over your bottom lip. You can taste yourself when you flick your tongue over the trail his thumb left.

“I missed you so much,” he admits with a gentle kiss on your lips. “And not just because of this. I missed all of you, everything about you, just being with you.”

“I missed you, too.”

It’s meant to be a confirmation of your mutual love, but it comes out like a whine. You know Taehyung doesn’t mind from the way his eyes zero in on your tongue running along your bottom lip. You don’t have to say anything more for him to know what you want. He nods once and you’re almost immediately on your knees between his legs.

“Fuck.” He leans back in the chair and lifts his hips so you can tug his sweatpants down his thighs. “Gonna be good for me, baby?”

You quickly nod your head, though you’re focused on gently taking Taehyung’s cock in your hand. Alex isn’t wrong. Taehyung’s dick is big, but that doesn’t mean you have to go around talking about it. That’s for you to know and for others to wonder about.

You had to sign an NDA before you were allowed to see it, anyway, but you’d keep your mouth shut even if no legal action would be taken against you for gossiping.

“Kiss it first.”

He tongues the inside of his cheek as he watches you. His eyelids droop lower when you plant a puckered, open-mouthed kiss on the head of his cock. You press the tip of your tongue against the slit to lick at the precum already leaking from him. The buck of his hips isn’t unexpected, but you feel like you need to remember how to do all of this after being away from him for so long. Not to mention how tired your jaw is about to be.

Taehyung seems to sense your hesitation because he allows his body to go slack beneath you. The hand that has reached down to dig into your scalp doesn’t let up, but he doesn’t push your head down like he normally would when you finally slide his cock down your throat.

He doesn’t buck his hips again, even when you drool so much that the inside of his thighs become just as wet as yours. You squeeze the base of his cock, twisting your wrist to the rhythm you’ve established when you can’t take all of him into your mouth.

You reach down to gently roll his balls with your free hand. His cock twitches against your flattened tongue and you hum with satisfaction.

“God, your fucking mouth–”

You make eye contact with Taehyung as your hand ventures lower. There’s nothing more beautiful than the way his face crumples with pleasure when you massage his perineum.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop,” he whines.

You ease up slightly but still suckle on the head of his cock for longer than Taehyung wants. Why not have a little fun? All you’ll end up doing is riling him up even more, and that can only be a good thing for you.

Taehyung digs his fingers into your hair and yanks you up. It stings, but the pain might as well be white-hot pleasure once Taehyung is praising you with a gravelly voice.

“You’re too fucking good at that.”

You don’t even like sucking dick, but you’d do it all day, every day if Taehyung asked you to. But since he made you stop, you have other priorities to take care of, like the fact that there are way too many layers of clothes separating you from your boyfriend. While you were on your knees for him, Taehyung removed his shirt. The white cotton is discarded on the floor beside the chair and his half-dry hair is tousled around his head in a messiness only he could successfully pull off.

After wiggling out of your leggings and underwear, you climb back onto Taehyung’s lap. His broad chest shudders beneath your touch as you run your hands down to meet his soft tummy. His responsiveness strokes the ego you didn’t realize you have.

“Y’know, you never gave me the chance to ask you how travel went.”

“Seriously?” He knows you’re teasing, but you like the mock-irritated tone of his voice. It makes his chest rumble.

You use your grip on him to stabilize yourself as you grind into his lap. You scrape your nails at the nape of his neck and suck on his bottom lip. Taehyung moans into your mouth, low and throaty, when his cock glides through your wet folds as you roll your hips. He lets you pull his hair, head falling back to expose the smooth plane of his throat. Your lips leave his to latch onto his throat instead. The kisses you give him are slippery and biting and hot.

“No hickeys, Y/N.”

Taehyung’s scolding is deep and sharp; you both know he’s not fucking around. It’s a command he has had to throw your way more than once. The idea of marking him up is just so appetizing, but you know you can’t. Sure, makeup can make just about anything disappear, but it’s annoying to deal with and Taehyung isn’t particularly a fan of the side looks the makeup artists give each other when they see dark bruises littering his neck and collarbones.

Maybe you’ll give him just a tiny one and suffer the consequences later.

You cling onto him tighter when you feel two of his fingers slip inside of you. Spreading your thighs as wide as you can without throwing off your balance on the chair, you roll your hips into Taehyung’s hand to take his fingers deeper.

“Please,” you moan against his neck. You can smell your shampoo and body wash on him. Something about him smelling like you makes you feel overwhelmingly possessive. He’s yours. Kim Taehyung is yours.

He turns his head to the side to capture your lips with his own as he snakes his arm around your waist. The position allows him to pull you tightly against his chest. He holds you in place as he starts thrusting his fingers into your pussy just as he had thrust them into your mouth.

Taehyung grunts as he keeps his legs spread in the chair, which in turn forces your thighs open when you try to squeeze them closed around his hand.

“Stay still.”

“Can’t.” You shake your head and thread your fingers through his hair, tugging the strands harder.

It’s too much; Taehyung lights a fire against every inch of your body each time he touches you. If he was anyone else, you’d be singed, but Taehyung takes such good care of you. You’re not singed. You’re ignited.

“You have no fucking idea,” Taehyung takes a deep breath, “No fucking idea how badly I’ve been craving you.” He warms you up with each thrust of his fingers, adding a third until you’re clawing at his shoulders.

“So, ahh fuck, fuck me,” you gasp, your mouth hot against the corner of his jaw. Your teeth scrape against his skin and he merely lets his head fall back to give you more.

“No please?”

You bite his cheek in defiance and get a slap to the ass that only makes you want to bite him more.

“Don’t be mean to me,” you whimper.

Taehyung’s steady rhythm against your front wall has your orgasm burning so hotly in your core that you feel like you’re going to cum if he even so much as turns his head to look at you one more time.

Your thighs are already sore by the time Taehyung removes his fingers from your pussy. He uses your sticky arousal as lube to stroke his cock and you don’t want to think about how excited you are about this.

“Hurry up.”

Taehyung raises his eyebrows at you just as he grips the inside of your thigh with one hand. The other he uses to line his cock with your body. You can feel the head press against your entrance, and you try to push your body down to swallow him whole, but Taehyung holds you up to stop you.

“Impatient cockslut, aren’t you?” Taehyung chides.

His previously spacey look is sharpened by the sparkle of mirth in his eyes. Your body tenses when he spits the insult at you, and he knows it’s making your clit throb even harder.

“Tae.” You bite your lip because you’re close to begging at this point.

Luckily, you don’t have to. Taehyung presses down your hip and you quickly take the lead, easing yourself onto his cock until you’re fully seated on his firm thighs.

Your body burns from the stretch it has to make to accommodate him, but you knew it would. Even when you’re fully adjusted to him, there’s always a bit of a stretch. He also knows he has to let you ease into it to avoid slamming himself straight into your cervix. The first time it had happened, Taehyung genuinely thought he’d broken you. You kind of thought so, too, if you were going to be perfectly honest. The struggle of having a big-dicked boyfriend.

“Okay?” He’s watching you with those lustful, dark eyes.

“Mhm,” you hum because you’re afraid of the way your voice will quiver if you try to say real words.

You’re so full, it’s a bit overwhelming. Not just physically, but emotionally, too. You missed Taehyung a lot, but holding onto each other in such an intimate position is making you realize just how lonely you were without him.

“I’m gonna move, okay?”

He waits until you silently nod your head before he adjusts in the chair, scooting down slightly to spread his legs better. You allow him to adjust your legs, bending them at the knee and hooking them over the arms of the chair. With a tight grip on your ass, Taehyung pulls you down onto his cock at the same time he thrusts up into you.

The pace Taehyung sets is desperate, but you don’t care. Your second orgasm is approaching at an alarming speed. It feels like it’s taking all of your energy to simply stay grounded with reality as Taehyung squeezes you and your hips crash into each other. You don’t even try to do anything, just let him take over your body as he pounds into you. For the most part, you’re a pillow princess and you both know it. Besides, how can you possibly keep up with someone so athletic? Taehyung’s stamina is ridiculous. Neither of you has an overstimulation kink, but Taehyung’s ability to just go and go and go might as well have given you one. None of this has ever bothered Taehyung, though. He likes giving more than receiving.

“Oh fuck.” Taehyung nips at the base of your neck when you clench around his cock just to feel him shiver.

There aren’t any rules about him marking you up. The petty side of him likes when you wear the dark bruises in the open, with no makeup or clothing to hide them. It’s a satisfying game he likes to play. He likes that everyone knows you’re getting dicked down and, therefore, are taken.

You like the secret satisfaction of knowing it’s Kim Taehyung who gives you those marks, and no one even knows.

What you don’t like is thinking about all the other people Taehyung may have enjoyed giving marks to.

It’s hard not to let your mind wander. Taehyung has never talked to you about his previous relationships, and there’s no way for you to know about them if he doesn’t tell you. The media can’t be trusted to accurately report idols’ love lives; today has been a perfect example of that. You’re stuck with only your imagination to make up all kinds of scenarios. Maybe Taehyung has been with other k-pop idols, or models, or actresses - people with more money, who are prettier and more sophisticated than you. Hell, you’ve never even asked him about his sexuality. What if he really has been fucking Jungkook! What if they’re in love and you’re just something temporary?

“I was made for you, jagi. You know that?” Taehyung’s breath is hot against your skin. His words are gentle, but the power with which he thrusts up into you is bruising. “Made for you.”

It’s as if he can read your mind, as if he can somehow sense the insecurities threatening to pull you out of the moment. As always, Taehyung manages to bring you back to the present.

Fuck, sometimes you wish he wouldn’t do shit like this to you. You’re already pathetically in love with him. You can’t imagine what more could come next, yet you feel yourself practically bursting from the seams with love.

Your moans fall in line with the sound of the chair scraping the floor and your skin slapping against Taehyung’s with every thrust. When your mouth falls open, Taehyung presses his thumb against your tongue. With eyes fluttering closed, you suck on his thumb and try to hold on as your body rocks up and down.

“Fuck, fuck, oh, god, Taehyung.”

“Yeah, jagi?” Taehyung pulls down on the corner of your mouth until his thumb is dragging spit across your cheek. “Tell me.”

His voice is so soothing it makes you want to cry. It’s unfair.

“You feel so fucking—“

It’s the slick pressure of his thumb massaging your clit that finally has you arching your back with a scream of Taehyung’s name. You’re so loud that you worry your neighbors heard you. There are plenty of people named Taehyung in the world, though, right? He could be any Taehyung.

If you ask Taehyung later, he’ll probably say he can’t even remember his own name because of how tightly you clench around his cock when you cum. The feeling is so overwhelming that you think you might pass out from holding your breath. You gasp, inhaling more air than you exhale, but Taehyung keeps going. Every subsequent thrust knocks the air out of you until you have the opposite problem and now you can’t keep any air in.

“I’m gonna…”

“Go ahead, baby. Cum inside me.”

Taehyung whimpers into the crook of your neck as he cums, the suggestiveness of your permission not lost on either of you. You’re on birth control and Taehyung knows a kid would probably ruin his career. So it doesn’t actually mean anything when you tell him he can stay inside; you’re not getting pregnant any time soon. Still, he gets off on coming inside of you, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

“I was going to make a joke that I should go on tour more often if that means I’ll cum that hard again, but I think I don’t want to go on tour ever again,” Taehyung admits with a shaky laugh.

Just the idea of Taehyung leaving you for months on end again makes your stomach twist. He brings so much life to everywhere he goes, and you felt like much of that life left you when he did. Even if it was only temporary.

Taehyung holds you until his cock is no longer twitching inside of you. Once his arms finally fall to his side, you try to untangle yourself from the chair as his body, but your limbs might as well belong to someone else.

“Help,” you squeak hoarsely. You feel like covering your face when Taehyung laughs.

Taehyung helps you out of his lap, though you both are so wobbly on your feet that you hold onto the edge of the kitchen table when you stand. Taehyung looks wrecked, and you feel wrecked. You’re not sure your knees will ever work properly again.

“Why are we still listening to Stray Kids?” Taehyung grumbles when he realizes the speakers are still playing in the background.

“It’s a good album.”

“We should be fucking to my songs.” Taehyung pauses for a moment, thinking.“‘Christmas Tree’ is a fuckable song, right?”

“You’re joking.”

Taehyung shakes his head and reaches for your phone. His face is programmed to unlock your phone, just like your face unlocks his phone. You don’t understand how he can stand butt naked in the kitchen, cum all over his thighs, and search for the jazz playlist he made on your Spotify account.

(“Jazz Hands, Y/N. It’s a vibe.”)

Once his playlist has replaced Stray Kids, Taehyung wraps you up in a giant bear hug that lifts you off your feet. The hug nearly knocks the air out of you.

“Can’t believe you made me dirty after I just showered.” You can’t see his pout, but you can hear it.

“You’re the one who started this.”

Taehyung scoffs. He starts walking down the hallway, practically dragging you in his arms as he goes. Your toes barely reach the ground, but you’re more content to let your body fall slack and make him do all the work.

He kicks open the bathroom door and sits you down on the counter.

“No, you did this. You looked at me with those pretty eyes and said, ‘Tae’.” He tries to mimic your voice by moaning his name. “I’m a weak, weak man. You influenced me. I just wanted you to eat.”

“Well, I did eat.”

Taehyung presses his lips together. “Don’t say it.”

“I’m gonna say it.” You lean forward on the edge of the counter, trying to get in Taehyung’s space, but he’s ignoring you as he prepares the shower.

“Y/N.”

“I ate…”

“Stop.”

“Deez nuts.”

Taehyung drags his hands down his face, leaving his skin red. His reaction makes you giggle.

“Technically you only played with deez nuts. Your mouth, sadly, did not ever come near my—” He tries to correct you, but you’re already throwing a scrunchie at his face.

“You’re ruining the joke!”

“It’s a bad joke!”

Maybe your sense of humor is way better than his, but as you suffer another Taehyung tickle attack, you can’t help but feel ridiculous for how you’d behaved earlier. How can he look at you with sparkling eyes and a boxy smile that makes him laugh with his teeth, hand coming up to cover his face when you give him your poutiest of pouts— how can you see such genuine kindness and think Taehyung would ever do anything to jeopardize what you have?

“Wassup motherfuckers!”

You raise your eyebrows at Namjoon and tap the end of your chewed pen against your computer screen. Biting pens isn’t sanitary or cute but you do it anyway. The man’s eyes aren’t on your pen cap, though. He’s staring a hole into the podcast you pulled up because you know he doesn’t want to look at you.

“Namjoon, why did you start the episode like that? This is not your Automatic Dick era,” you say with a deep sigh.

“Beoryeo.”

“Excuse me?”

“The song. It’s called ‘Throw Away’, not… Automatic… Dick…” His correction dies on his tongue when he sees the exasperated look on your face.

“That is not the point.” You shake your head and exit the website. You’re not in charge of PR. That’s someone else’s problem.

Your attention turns to the newest draft of the song you’ve been stressing out about since you arrived in Seoul.

“This, though? This is fucking beautiful.” You adjust your laptop on the coffee table so Namjoon can better view the document. The two of you are at the dorm, lounging in the living room.

There are a lot of highlighted lines and many comments throughout the document. You wish you were like the members who scribbled their lyrics in cute leather journals, but your brain is too much of a disaster and broken by technology. If you don’t have your laptop, you can't write lyrics for shit.

“How are you so eloquent in Korean, but in English, you’re so…” You wave your hands around like you’re rifling through the air for the rest of your sentence.

“Casual?”

“Yes.” Sure, we’ll go with that, Joonie.

“Well, that’s why I’ve got you!”

At least he thinks you’re eloquent. The boys probably think you’re spending all your time in your office easily pulling masterpieces out of your ass when in reality you’re Googling, “what's the word for when you can't remember a word?”

It’s lethologica, by the way.

You love Namjoon, but sometimes you think he has too much faith in you. Writing songs is hard. He of all people would know that. The difference between you and Namjoon is that when Namjoon struggles with writing he gets all emo, buys a bunch of weird furniture, and flies to another country to look at foreign art. When you struggle with writing, you just go home and play video games with Taehyung until you’re ready to try again.

You’re both practicing avoidance, but Namjoon’s method just looks a little more dramatic than yours. Despite his assumptions, that doesn’t mean you’re better at handling yourself. You just do things differently.

“We’re so lucky to have Jagi PD!”

Namjoon groans and covers his head with the hood of his hoodie as Jungkook flies into the living room.

Strong hands cup your armpits to lift you off of the couch. While Jungkook is crushing every bone in your body as he hugs you, all you can think about is how you were kind of a little bit sweaty, and now Jungkook has his hands all in your armpits.

“Jungkookie, don’t pick people up without their consent.”

Hobi enters the room behind the younger man and gives him a stern look which makes Jungkook immediately put you down on your feet.

“Sorry, Y/N,” Jungkook says with a pout and galaxies in his eyes. You give his shoulder a playful smack. His baggy black t-shirt sticks to his skin, and you’re less worried about being sweaty. Jungkook is soaked.

“Don’t worry about it, kid. I’m tough.” You flex your nonexistent muscles to make the precious maknae laugh his pout away.

“You should come train with us, Jagi.”

“Jungkook,” Namjoon exclaims from where he still sits on the couch.

He turns to his friend with wide eyes. “What?”

“Stop calling Y/N ‘jagi’. Taehyung is going to kill you.” This time Jimin pipes up.

You hadn’t realized he’d entered the room, too. The three newcomers are varying degrees of sweaty with pink cheeks and wearing workout clothes. You suppose they’ve just come back from working out or perhaps a dance practice. They’ve all been back from tour for a few weeks now, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned about the Bangtan Boys it’s that they never fucking rest.

It’s exhausting just to think about it.

“It’s okay,” you say with a shrug. “I think ‘Jagi PD’ is pretty fucking funny, to be honest.”

The nickname Jungkook created for you is cute in your opinion. You are a music producer. Jagi PD is better than using your last name. It could be like your stage name. Maybe you can get Namjoon to credit you as Jagi PD under the songs you write. Using your first and last name seems lame when it’s paired with fun names like SUGA, RM, j-hope, and Slow Rabbit.

“Pretty fucking funny,” Jungkook repeats. He gives the other men a triumphant look before launching himself onto the couch with Jimin.

Hobi chooses to sit on the couch on the opposite side of the room with Namjoon. From the way Namjoon has nestled back into his seat, it’s clear that his song will have to wait. It’s for the best. You’re not thinking about music anymore.

You can’t blame Jungkook for interrupting your work, but the true source of distraction saunters into the room with his arms full of grocery bags.

“Hey, jagiya,” Taehyung greets you sweetly with a kiss on your forehead as he walks through the living room to get to the kitchen. The final two men, Jin and Yoongi, trail behind Taehyung with their own bags.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jimin give Jungkook a pointed look when Taehyung uses the term of endearment.

“What are you guys making?” Jungkook is curled up against the arm of the couch with his phone in hand. He’s holding it sideways which makes you think he’s probably playing In The Seom. The app is old news by this point, yet Jungkook’s attention is still consumed by it. It’s hilarious.

You wish you could meet the game developers. Whoever made Taehyung’s character look so fucking feral deserves a raise.

“You’re gonna cook?” You don’t hide your shock at the idea that Taehyung would be cooking anything, and that makes everyone laugh.

“I’m making dinner,” Yoongi clarifies. “And it’s a surprise, so stop paying attention to me.” He shoos Jin and Taehyung out of the kitchen.

Jin sits on the couch with Jimin and Jungkook, while Taehyung sits with you. The armchair really only seats one person comfortably, but you wiggle so Taehyung can sit half next to you and half under you. He arranges your legs to drape over his lap. It’s nice, being this close. You can snuggle into his side and let him wrap his arms around you without worrying about who can see or what people think. All the boys are supportive of your relationship with Taehyung. It’s a bit frustrating that there’s no way for you to fully express how appreciative you are.

“Well, what are we supposed to do?” From the couch in the living room, Jungkook shoots Yoongi a glare as if Yoongi’s request for some alone time while he cooks is a personal attack.

Yoongi snorts and turns his back on Jungkook to begin unloading the groceries. “I don’t know, talk to each other.”

“You guys are boring. I only want to talk to Y/N.” You’re not sure how you’ve become Jungkook’s favorite, but it’s exceptionally endearing.

“You’re not even going to pay attention,” Namjoon points out. “Always on that damn phone.”

He’s still got his hood up, and he looks like he was half-asleep. No one but you gets the joke, so Namjoon nods his head in your direction before returning to his slumped position.

“I like watching Jimin-ssi’s character spin around in little circles.”

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” Jin chimes in. “He looks so small.”

The glares Jimin shoots everyone in the room are terrifying. You think about something you’d heard someone say: the shorter the person, the closer to hell they are. Something dramatic that only a tall person would say.

“All the characters are the same size,” he exclaims. “And I don’t do that!”

“Yes, you do. There are fanmade compilation videos of you spinning around, Jimin-ssi! I’ve watched them,” Jungkook confesses with full confidence.

A small squeal sounds from the opposite side of the room. You turn to see Hobi practically bouncing on the couch.

“Please, can we watch some? I want to hear the cute sound effects.”

A pillow flies across the room, and Hobi just barely dodges it. Jimin crosses his arms firmly against his chest and scowls as Jin and Jungkook enthusiastically agree and Hobi snatches the TV remote before anyone else can.

“At least watch a video that isn’t about me doing something embarrassing,” Jimin breaks down enough to plead (not beg!) with Hobi. He eyes the room and his gaze falls on Taehyung. A small smirk twitches at the corner of his mouth and you feel Taehyung slowly exhale. “We should watch one about TaeTae.”

You try to cover your laughter with a cough, but Taehyung applies a light slap to your thigh in retaliation.

“Why me?” he pouts.

“Yes! Let me pick!”

“Jungkookie, no. It was my idea.” Hobi scrolls through his phone until his face lights up with glee. “I’ve watched this one before and it’s so cute, Y/N, you’re going to love it.”

“The suspense is killing me.” You wiggle your eyebrows at Taehyung. The rolled eyes you’re met with feel like a victory.

“Okay, it’s called, BTS struggling to understand ‘Tae-tae language’,” Hobi prefaces while the video loads on the TV.

Jin laughs at the loud snort you let out. “TaeTae language is hard to understand.”

“Maybe you guys aren’t creative enough to understand me,” Taehyung scoffs.

“Hey! I understand you!” Yoongi protests from the kitchen.

Taehyung looks like he might say more, but the video interrupts him. It starts with highlights from the comments section of previous videos. One comment mentions Namjoon being their bias.

“Is that weird? Like, to watch this kind of stuff and hear people talk about their biases?” If you were famous, you were absolutely positive that you’d never Google yourself. You would not want to know what kind of weird shit was out there about you, even something as seemingly innocent as silly compilation videos.

“I think it’s funny,” Jimin says with a smirk and half-moon eyes. “I’m everyone’s bias, anyway.”

“That’s not what TikTok says.” Jungkook turns his nose upward at Jimin, though his eyes never leave his phone. It’s a shame In The Seom didn’t allow him to drown Jimin in the ocean, or he totally would have done it by now.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just check how many videos there are under my hashtag.”

Jimin snorts with a roll of his eyes, seemingly dismissing Jungkook’s claims. But you see him twist on the couch so the younger man can’t see that Jimin pulls up TikTok on his phone. As if TikTok was the end all, be all. You want to tell them it’s impossible to know who’s the most “popular” or whatever, but you know that conversation is futile.

“Y/N, you were Army before you started dating Tae!” You can practically see the light bulb going off in Hobi’s brain. Or, rather, the Army bomb. “Who was your bias?”

Hobi’s question barely leaves his lips when the room grows quiet. Seven pairs of eyes stare at you expectantly, including your boyfriend’s. You keep your eyes on the TV, though you aren’t seeing the compilation video playing anymore.

“I don’t know. I didn’t have a bias. Y’know, OT7 and all that shit.”

Suddenly, the room erupts. Screeches of protests and arguments are shouted across the living room, the boys yelling on top of one another and slewing insults at each other.

“Oh come on, Y/N, tell us!” Hobi whines.

“Yeah, we wanna know! We won’t judge you.” Pulling this precious information out of you is so vital that Jungkook looks away from his phone long enough to give you a pouty face.

“It’s obviously me. I’m Worldwide Handsome.”

“Leave her alone, guys.” Taehyung shifts in his seat and adjusts how your legs drape over his lap. His large hands massage soft circles into your calf muscles. “This is so childish.”

“Right. A bias is just whoever a fan is partial to,” Namjoon says with a shrug. “What matters is that fans support us as seven.”

“No, a bias is the one the fan wants to fuck the most.” This time Jungkook doesn’t look up from his phone when he speaks.

Jin hums in agreement, winking in your direction and making Taehyung scowl.

“You’re just scared it’s not you, Tae.” For someone Taehyung calls his soulmate, Jimin seems to jump at every opportunity to fuck with his friend. He turns to you with those haunting siren eyes that lure in even God’s strongest soldiers. “Is he, Y/N? Is your bias Taehyung or someone else?”

“I thought Hobi’s question was, who was my bias? Not is.”

His siren eyes narrow at you. “Stop arguing semantics and answer the question.”

You can’t hold a staring contest with the now-paused Youtube video, and Jimin’s sudden snappiness makes you feel the need to look away. Right into the eyes of your answer, the only person who hasn’t spoken during the entire bias conversation.

Yoongi’s sharp eyes catch yours when you look away from the TV. Never one to miss a beat, he raises a perfectly-shaped eyebrow at you, the ghost of his classic Yoongi smirk barely lifting the corner of his mouth before the entire room erupts into shouting again.

“YOONGI?! REALLY?! OUT OF ALL OF US, YOU PICKED HIM?” Jimin jumps up from the couch, knocking pillows all over the floor.

“Watch it, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi scolds the younger man for his informal language. Jimin only rolls his eyes.

“Damn, Jimin was right. You aren’t her bias, TaeTae.” Jin shakes his head with a solemn look. He gets up to leave the room, giving your boyfriend a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as he walks past. “I’m going to my room to play Mario Kart. This is too depressing for me.”

At the mention of video games, Jungkook perks up. “Wait Jin hyungie, I wanna play, too!” He tosses the last couch pillow in Jimin’s lap and scrambles to catch up with Jin halfway down the hall.

Yoongi wears a full-blown smirk now. You watch with wide eyes as his tongue slips out to drag across his bottom lip before he’s drawing his lip between his teeth. “Cute.”

“Fuck off,” Taehyung hisses at the older man, lifting your legs off his lap.

“Tae…” You reach out to grab his arm to stop him, but he’s already heading to his bedroom. The door slams shut so hard that the photos on the walls shudder.

You turn back around to glare at the remaining men. “Did you have your fun, hmm? Was it worth it?”

“I really… I didn’t think…” Hobi fumbles his words, clearly uncomfortable with the outbursts he’d unwittingly caused.

“If it doesn’t work out with Taehyung, call me, yeah?” Yoongi sends you a wink, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek.

You feel your face heat up and you refuse to look at him. You wait until he goes back to preparing the food before you stand up. Without another word, you follow in Taehyung’s footsteps until you reach his door. It’s locked, but you expected as much.

“TaeTae,” you call softly. “Please let me in.”

You wait in silence long enough that you consider going home. If Taehyung doesn’t want to talk to you, you aren’t going to push him. Even if you think the reason for his outburst is stupid and that he’s acting like a child.

Eventually, the door is opened wide enough for you to slip inside. Taehyung doesn’t look at you when he shuts the door. Instead, he sits on his bed and leans his back against the wall. He keeps his eyes on his hands delicately folded together in his lap. His eyes are already red and slightly puffy. The sight is glass in your veins.

“Tae, please don’t be upset,” you start slowly. Climbing into his bed, you scoot until you’re lounging next to him. He doesn’t pull away when you rest your head on his shoulder.

“It’s embarrassing.”

You let out a small sigh, not because you’re frustrated with him but because you’d known watching fanmade videos would turn out to be a bad idea.

“If it makes you feel better, you were still in my bias line.” It’s probably not the best way to reassure your boyfriend, but it at least makes him look at you.

“Who else?” His eyes are narrowed.

“I don’t think I should answer that.”

Taehyung’s bottom lip droops and you feel your heart seize.

“Okay, okay!” Maybe holding his hand will make it better. “Jimin, but, no don’t give me that look! Just listen.”

Taehyung’s pout deepens, but he doesn’t interrupt you.

“It’s not like when I hang out with Jimin or Yoongi I’m thinking about those things, okay? It’s just a natural thing that happens. Anyone can be drawn to specific people in a group; the same thing happens with friendships. Like you and Jimin. It’s normal.”

Taehyung doesn’t seem convinced, but he laces his fingers through yours. You interpret the light squeeze he gives you as permission to continue talking.

“Yoongi is cool because I always saw him as this, like, mental health icon for me. He talks so much about mental health and fans see how he has grown and gotten healthier over the years. It’s inspiring, right? You’ve seen it firsthand.”

“That’s true,” Taehyung sniffles.

You nod your head. “Exactly, I respect him as a person and an artist. And with Jimin, I’ve always been almost jealous? of him. Because he can so beautifully balance both masculine and feminine qualities and aesthetics. He looks good no matter what and has learned to accept himself instead of forcing whatever weird masculinity shit y’all had when you debuted. That’s inspiring, too.”

Taehyung is silent for a while. You give him the space to process what you’ve said, and you hope that it’s enough to make him understand that a bias is not just about who you want to fuck. Jungkook is such a flirt; of course, that’s how he would interpret things.

“Why did you like me?” He finally looks at you. His eyes are a little pink from his tears, but his cheeks appear dry. The innocent curiosity in his expression tugs at your heart.

You reach up to run your fingers through his fluffy hair, combing out any tangles and gently massaging his scalp. This is probably how Taehyung feels when you worry about fans, paparazzi, and sasaengs.

“Well, you’re hot,” you say with a grin. You feel a bit lighter when Taehyung’s mouth curves slightly, too.

“Is that it?”

“Of course not.” You stick your tongue out. “You were my favorite in the vocal line. I loved how smooth your singing voice is, and how thoughtful you sound when you talk about how important the members and Army are to you. How could someone not love the inventor of I purple you?”

It feels weird to talk about how you liked Taehyung before you knew who he was. You never made your status as a fan obvious in the beginning. Professionalism is more important than fangirling. Even now, you only casually discuss your interest in the group before meeting them.

“Your sense of fashion made me laugh. You always seemed so happy, even though people like to focus a lot on how mean you can look. And I thought your relationships with Yoongi and Jimin were cute. You’re a great example of how men can and should be soft and loving.”

They’re all highly-simplified explanations for why Taehyung caught your eye in a group of seven, but they seem to put him at ease. He slides into the bed so he’s lying on his back under the covers. With his eyes locked on yours, he pats his chest.

“C’mere.”

You lie down under the covers next to him. It feels nice to rest your head on his chest and throw your leg over his waist. Ever since Taehyung came back from the tour, you’ve wanted to be attached at the hip. It’s not that you can’t handle being alone, but you don’t think it’s a bad thing to want to be with the people who bring you joy— especially when you live in a new country.

“You know I’m in love with you, not Yoongi or Jimin.”

“I know.”

“Do you actually?” You shift your head so you can look up at him.

Taehyung meets you halfway. You let your eyes close as he slots his lips with yours, allowing your body to melt into his. The desperation the two of you had for each other when Taehyung first returned to Seoul eventually died out. Now, you’re okay with taking things slow. You can savor the feeling of his body on yours, firm and warm beneath you. You can savor the smell of his cologne and his taste as you breathe him in and slip your tongue inside his mouth.

“I do,” he responds with a heavy exhale once you pull away. “I’m sorry I got upset. I just got so angry when hyung…” Taehyung scrunches his eyebrows and his nose scrunches along with them.

You massage his forehead and try to forcefully smooth the wrinkles there. “Yoongi is just being an ass. He loves you, too,” you point out.

Taehyung can’t argue that, so he leans down to kiss you again. You know how important physical contact is to him, especially when he’s upset. With that in mind, you slip your hands beneath his t-shirt. Splaying your hands flat against his chest feels nice. It’s a reminder that he’s real, and he’s here. He’s safe and healthy and yours.

“We both get pretty jealous, huh?”

Taehyung gives you a sheepish smile, all cheeks and pretty lips. You love his little lip freckle, but your favorite will always be the one under his eye.

“Not as bad as Jungkook, though.”

“Mhm, please don’t break up with me over a perilla leaf or anything.”

Taehyung giggles and you feel like you’ve got helium inside you. If you don’t hold onto him tightly enough, you might float away with how light and carefree being with him makes you.

“You won’t get rid of me that easily,” he says as he nibbles your earlobe.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

His hands find the hem of your t-shirt, and you sit up to allow him to undress you. It’s a delicate process because Taehyung wants to take his time, too. It might seem like the two of you use sex to solve your problems, but you never see it like that. For you, letting Taehyung take his time breaking you down, just to build you back up again, is an act of emotional intimacy, just as it is physical. When Taehyung gets comfortable between your thighs, dark eyes locked with yours as he sucks your clit into his mouth, the hold he has on your wrists grounds you. And when he hovers over you with your legs wrapped around his hips as he thrusts into you, you whisper gentle praises against his throat to remind him that you are his and he is yours.

You spend the rest of the afternoon in Taehyung’s bed. It feels good to snuggle with him while he talks to you about all the jazz clubs he forced Jimin to go to during the little free time they had on tour. It seems the tension in the house fades because the rest of the boys are loud and energetic; it’s impossible to tune them out when their laughter bleeds into the room despite the door being closed.

“Do you think Taehyung and Y/N are done having make-up sex?”

“It’s pretty quiet in there. Maybe they fell asleep.”

You groan and bury your face in Taehyung’s side. It’s almost as if Jungkook and Jin are purposefully talking outside of his bedroom to make sure you can hear them. Knowing them, it’s not a far-fetched idea.

“Probably tired themselves out. The screaming was really—”

“JUNGKOOK!” Taehyung sits up so abruptly that you fall back onto the bed. “SHUT THE FUCK UP.”

Jin and Jungkook’s laughter eventually fades down the hallway, but Taehyung gets out of bed anyway.

“Yoongi is probably almost done with dinner,” he grumbles. You watch him zip up his jeans and admire how tall and lanky he is. Sorry to Yoongi and Jimin.

He manages to get his arms caught in his t-shirt somehow, so you begrudgingly get out of bed to help. You tease him endlessly because obviously fucking you is so good that he doesn’t know how to use his limbs anymore.

Your teasing is nothing compared to the way the other boys drag you the moment you step out of Taehyung’s bedroom.

“You okay, Y/N? Sounded like you might be dying,” Jimin grins as he prepares the kitchen table for dinner.

Jin snickers, throwing out his own commentary. “Taehyung, you got it pretty good even though you aren’t her bias, huh.”

Before Taehyung has a chance to bite anyone’s head off, you chime in.

“Yeah, yeah, Yoongi was my bias when I was a fan,” you say with a roll of your eyes. You can practically see Jungkook registering that you said “was a fan”, and that makes him pout. As if you aren’t still a fan. What a baby, just like Taehyung.

Yoongi snorts as he retrieves a dish from the oven. “I cannot fathom why.”

“Me either,” Jimin agrees with a giggle. He’s completely unfazed by the dark look Yoongi shoots him.

You join in on Jimin’s laughter, and you’re pleased to see that Taehyung is smiling too. The whole thing is so ridiculous. Maybe you’re feeling a bit too comfortable because you start oversharing.

“And I was a Yoonmin shipper, I’m not gonna lie.” You’re laughing so hard that you don’t realize neither Jimin nor Taehyung are laughing anymore. After a few seconds pass, though, your smile slowly falls. Jimin’s face has turned bright pink and Yoongi has his back to the table.

“It was one time, okay?” Jimin’s eyes burn holes into Yoongi’s shoulder blades from across the room. “Okay, two times.”

The older man doesn’t comment.

You nudge Taehyung’s leg with your foot under the kitchen table. He presses his lips together as hard as he can, but the smile just gets pushed into his cheeks. A rush of air explodes from his lips in a loud raspberry, and that’s what triggers your laughter again.

“Oh my god, I really wish I was surprised but I’m not,” you confess with a wheeze.

You’ve clearly touched on a sensitive topic. Jimin blabbers away about how it’s not that big of a deal, all while Yoongi silently finishes arranging the dishes on the table. It would feel uncomfortable, but Jimin’s flushed face and the tiniest of smiles curving Yoongi’s lips make you think it meant a lot more than what Jimin wishes to admit.

And that’s really fucking cute.

As the rest of the boys come piling into the kitchen, Taehyung scoots his chair until yours are touching. You bump shoulders and tilt your face up so he can press a kiss against your jaw.

“I love you,” he whispers. “With all my heart."

“I love you, too.” You lace your fingers with his and let your hands rest against his thigh. “You dork.”

The kitchen is chaos, but all you can focus on is the boxy smile Taehyung gifts you.

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work

@bts-ruu @chuberella23 @guks-lip-piercing @sailoryooons @hvnnibvni @jinsquishes @jjkeverlast @klitklittredge @koobsessed @moonchild1 @moonleeai @nonbinary-demonbrat @parkdatjimin @reliablemitten @saweetspoiled @sugarwithtea @swga-ficrecs @taegiblr @yoongukie-ff

(and i'm tagging y'all cuz ik you were excited for this) @norushtolive @btscontentenjoyer

#taehyung x reader #bts fanfic #bts x reader #taehyung fanfic #taehyung angst #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #wyb

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proseka-headcanons · 2 months

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You know how Kohane is a fan of WxS? And there's a popular HC (at least I think it's an HC, feels real to me tbh) that Akito is a MMJ fan? HC: At least one person in each group is a fan of another group.

Ichika loves listening to Nightcord's music, she'll often try to play their songs on her guitar. Saki, an Airi fan, obviously loves MMJ (this grows after that one Valentine's Day where she made chocolates with Airi and Emu). She'll never admit it, but Shiho loves WxS. They make her smile and feel good, and honestly it's nice to see someone who cared for her chasing his dreams. And Honami surprises everyone when she's able to memorize VBS's songs. Both covers and original (Honami busting out the rap for Shanti and the entirety of Machi to the surprise of literally everyone around her).

Minori finds herself visiting PXL more often just to see WxS perform (and okay, maybe she also wants to spend time with them and this is the best time to ask). Haruka listens to Leo/need's music whenever she's working out. Airi does her best to attend as many of VBS's live events as she can. And Shizuku actively listens and waits for Nightcord's music.

Kohane, while obviously a WxS fan, also enjoys listening to Nightcord, especially on days where she feels upset and needs something that will help her cry, rather than cheer her up (because that's what she needs at the moment, a good cry). An has a secret account she uses to watch MMJ stream (she's worried that karma will come after her for all the teasing she's done against Akito, she has no idea the other VBS members already know she has a secret account because they watched her log in). Toya, ever the supportive (adopted) brother, goes to Leo/need's concerts (sometimes even skipping practice to do so). And much like Shiho, Akito will never admit to being a WxS fan (imagine if Tsukasa or Rui found out? What if they pull him up on stage like they've done with Kohane? No thanks... okay, fine, Nene can know. JUST NENE!!... He isn't sure where he stands with Emu knowing.)

Tsukasa jumps from group to group depending on what he's working on, currently he's mainly listening to VBS. Emu will sometimes join a MMJ stream and be one of the most active chatters (sometimes being reported for spam). Rui tends to have Nightcord on in the background as he works. Nene listens to Leo/need and will sometimes ask Ichika if she has the lyrics so she can learn them.

Kanade enjoys MMJ and will listen to any song of theirs that Mizuki has shared (since she tends to get them first), she loves how it makes her feel and she'll often use those feelings towards her own compositions. Mafuyu listens to WxS music, both as a way to, maybe, better understand Emu, and as a way to, maybe, just maybe, better understand her own emotions. They do a good job displaying them, so... Ena refuses to admit she loves VBS. It has nothing to do with Akito or the fact she's the one responsible for her little brother chasing street music. Totally (it is but if she admits it, she'll cry). Mizuki has made several MVs for Leo/need. They sit in a flashdrive she carries around. She loves their music and sometimes hopes to run into one of them (Saki most likely seeing how she's Tsukasa's sister) so she can give them the MVs (hopefully they like them, she was so nervous making them).

In short: they're all friends and supportive of each other, your honor 🥺 trust me 🙏 I know it to be true

THESE ARE ALL SOOOOOO REAL OMFG YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW REAL YOU ARE FOR THISSSS - mod ena

OMG I LOVE THIS SO MUCH also wait rq does anyone remember Tsukasa SCREAMING "LEO/NEEEEED AAAAUIFUFU" because it lives in my head rent free. I love them all being friends and being supportive -🦈

THIS IS SO CUTE AAAAAARJFHDJFHFH I WILL LITERALLY CRY/pos mizuki making leo/need mvs.......... who meets them first who do they get to give the mvs to do they like them i need to knOW /nf - 🎀

as mod rui him liking nightcord should be canon. their songs are perfect background music and also just perfect in general. these are all so cute rhhrgrhrhrhgr biting you /pos — 🎈

#mod ena #mod ichika #mod mizuki #proseka headcanons #project sekai #pjsk #project sekai colorful stage #prsk #prosekai #project sekai headcanons #mod rui

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achillyscomedown · 8 months

Text

dead poets as song lyrics pt.3-

todd: blue skies turn to grey now // my eyes turn to rain clouds // and i’m tired // it’s been three weeks since you’ve left me // so tonight i’m feeling empty // i don’t know why // we were nine clouds high, then we fell down // nowhere to hide, caught in the fallout // and i can’t lie, wish you’d call now // for one more time // one more time //

charlie: i’m not sad but i’m not exactly happy yet either // unless i live forever, i have to keep writing this sh!t // my biggest fear is that i will be forgotten // the grass will grow over my gravestone and nobody will bother // you know the beautiful thoughts you always think? // nobody will hear them again //

neil: i’m just a tenant paying rent inside this body and i // got two windows and those windows, well i call them my eyes // i’m just going where the wind blows, i don’t get to decide // sometimes i think too much // yeah, i get so caught up // i’m always stuck in my head // i wish i could escape // i tried to yesterday // took all the sheets of my bed // then i tied up my linen with five strips of ribbon i found // scaled the side of a building, i ran to the hills til’ they found me // and they put me back in my cell, all by myself //

knox: oh, i fell for your charm // i was so infatuated // but you left me in the dark, and my heart completely vacant // and now i don’t know // is your heart just preconditioned for brevity? // i don’t mean to accuse you of refusing longevity // but i can not excuse you for abusing my empathy // my empathy // i can take rejection // but you gave the impression that this was the inception of something real //

cameron: i know i’m not as cool as i’d like me to be // but why do you feel so down again? // i know i’m not a very good friend // why do you feel so down? // sure, that’s not something i’d stick around for // why do you feel so down? //

pitts: a couple whiskey and cigarettes // i got a few things to get up off my chest // i’ve been knee-deep in my regrets // i’m missing home // and if i go back, i might not like // where my heads at every night // i feel a semblance of where i’d like to go //

meeks: thought if we were free for a night // we’d make it right // live in peace // not bleed // heaven cries // and buries my hope for all the people // who are here to live and die // yeah tell all the people // there’s no need to dim the lights to hide // just live and die //

edit:

todd’s song: ‘it’s raining, it’s pouring’ by anson seabra

charlie’s song: ‘fentanyl’ by mccafferty

neil’s song: ‘mind is a prison’ by alec benjamin

knox’s song: ‘the way you felt’ by alex benjamin

cameron’s song: ‘why do you feel so down’ by declan mckenna

meeks song: ‘live and die’ by gina dirawi

pitts song: ‘whiskey & cigarettes’ by chance peña

#dead poets society #dead poets fandom #neil perry #charlie dalton #todd anderson #knox overstreet #kinda depressing #dead poets headcanons #dps boys #dps #gerard pitts #steven meeks #richard cameron #song #dead poets

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amethystfairy1 · 4 months

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Ello I have a question.

Where do you get you inspiration and ideas for writing your first.

I personally have to walk around and look at stuff till I find inspiration but others find inspiration in others work.

Genuinely curious:^>

Hello hello!

I really wish I had a solid answer to this…I mean, usually I just kinda daydream up an AU with very little specific inspiration. Maybe seeing a certain fanart or watching some compilation videos, stuff like that. Once I’ve STARTED on an AU then I’ll usually make a playlist for it. As I listen to music, I’ll try to find songs that seem to fit with the AU and add them to the playlist. I also love scrolling through prompt blogs! Even if I don’t end up fulfilling the specific prompts, they always give me great ideas! And I think they just kinda live in my head rent free, so ideas will pop up out of the blue all the time, sometimes it’s simple as that!

Hope this was a decent answer 😆 thanks for coming by to say hi! 💖

#fanfic #ao3 fanfic #through the sky blue cracks #traveling thieves au

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lokorum · 1 year

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Hi! I really love your art. There's a certain haunting beauty about it. I was wondering how you got started in art and maybe what inspired you. I can't stress enough the hauntingly beautiful aspect of your art. Some pieces terrify me but they're really just so beautiful to look at 😅

hey!!! ahhhh thank you so much for your kind words, anon!! its a relief to know that im not the only one who finds my silly draiwings scary phphp

i've started to draw just like most of the folk i think?? by filling my university notebooks with super funny-looking and super anatomically incorrect sketches of my beloved oc phph i tried to work with oil but zero waste movement quickly got me and since then im drawing digital stuff only.

missing the feeling of paint on your hands face clothes and sometimes eyes tbh but also wow oil is expensive!! Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑)

phphpt my memory is bad. like bad bad. i remember having that burning feeling when i looked at something beautiful and i wanted to like...eat it? make it myself and no one elses? not very practical reply phphp sorry! i also really loved to watch film that i've already mentioned before - macbeth (2015) - its a treat for your eyes and ears trust me!! trailer still giving me a goosebombs!

zdzislaw beksinski live in my head rent free since i was a pre-teen and im 1000% sure i'll die thinking about one of his paintings somewhere at the back of my mind. just look at this! man knew how to use a brush like no one else (´ ˘ `).｡oO ( ♡ )

sigur rós music and video clips are definetelly changed a lot in me. watching ekki múkk and all alright made me choke from tears and be speechless for days!

later in life i accidentaly went on the concert where at night - jambinai was part of the perfomance and their music hypnotized me just like all the moths around were hypnotized by the stage lights. i dont even remember what i was doing! just standing there absolutely still, looking at them playing phphp i probably looked like a creppy stalker (◞ꈍ∇ꈍ)◞⋆**✚⃞

but they make incredibly beautiful and sad music, and their connection song, if i get the meaning of it right, about people with disabilities and it always was important theme for me ♡

from lately discovered sources of inspiration can reccomend little games i found on itch!

2:22 AM, how we know we're alive and NORTH!

they're all pretty short from 20 minutes to 2 hours, but use every minute of their time!

ahhh hope it wasnt too much of an info dump and maybe someone find a familiar name here or discover something new for themselves! thank you again anon for your super cute and nice ask!! and thanks everyone to reading all this mess! have an awesome day!! |´･ｖ･)ﾉ♪

#ask

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importantdestinydefendor · 2 months

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Getting to know you ask meme

Tagged by @tired-reader-writer

Last song: Run For Roses by NMIXX

Such a banger! The harmonies, their voices in general (Haewon my beloved~), the instrumantel?? ugh! Lives rent free in my head! Also! Haewons voice is somewhat how I picture Azars voice (at least when singing). Her tone and voice colour is just so beautiful! This song will also go in the AU playlist lol

Here is a Voice Cam of Haewon were her vocals are a little bit highlighted from the rest. You can still here the others though.

Last movie/TV show: The Grand Budapest Hotel

Such a fun movie! Watched it with my parents on New Years Eve. Such a perfect mix of silly and serious. Sometimes you laugh until you can't breath, others you feel like curling up into a ball and just cry. It is a story in a story in a story in a story. So, to break it down is: we start with a girl reading a book by the bust of the author in a graveyard. We then listen to the author talking about an interview that is basically the book. We then switch to the younger self of the author (Jude Law) when he conducts the interview with the owner of the Grand Budapest Hotel. We then switch to the time when the owner was just a page/footboy (Tony Revelori) and telling the story of Gustave (Ralph Fiennes)- the concierge and later former owner of the Hotel. We then ping pong between the interview and the story told by the owner. It is told in five chapters. (Rant end!)

Sweet/spicy/savory: Leaning more to savory.

But also like sweet a lot! Spicy is my nemesis. I am so white i can't handel most spices lol. But I'm training my body to handel more!

Relationship status: Very, Very single

I am wishing/hoping for a relationship, though it is not my priority. In the mean time, I'm very hapy with my fictonal crushes lol

Last thing I googled: The Grand Budapest Hotel

Besides that it is 'google scholar' (for my term paper) and 'star wars rebels manag read online'. Have yet to watch the show but I do like the manga version of it.

Current obsession: There is alot!

Arslan Senki (obviusly), my AU, Horizon Forbidden West (RIP Lance Reddick), Otoyomegatrai (a new chapter just came out!), Haikyuu... and this is only like the tip of the iceberg for reading/video game stuff! But if I write down more we would be here for an eternity lol. I also have discovered book nooks and have started to build one since last summer (had to stop due to space for our christmas tree).

Last book: Wolkenschloss (A castle in the Sky) by Kerstin Gier

Have given up on it rather early on. I'm just no longer in the targeted audience and I notice that while reading which sadly sours the reading experience. I just cringe at some things that I might have liked when I was around 15 or so. But before that I finished reading the first book of the Temeraire series - His Majesty's Dragon and have the next two volumes waiting for me. I had started it back in high school and wanted to read it again. It is so much fun and it's baiscally - what if there were dragons around the time Napoleon waged his wars (so in the 19th century) and there were riders for them and we focus on one (1) british navy soldier who got (unwillingly) adopted by a dragon freshly hetched from it's egg. And maybe, just maybe, said dragon might be a very rare one! (Also another point for the Temeraire series is that the author is Naomi Novik - one of the co-founders of our beloved and one and only AO3!)

Looking forward to: being done with my term paper

I have a lot of problems with it as it is my first one and I have no idea what I'm doing (I have talked with my tutoress and asked others about it but I just have to figure shit out as I go). I just want to create art and continue my AUs! I want to post my first chapter! maaaaan we need more hours in the day for just relaxing and hobbies

Tags:

@whenskiesaregreyy @welome-bob and basically anyone who wants to join in.

#so finally came around to this #thank you for tagging me!#those who are tagged: no pressior or anything to do this!#just some fun silly nonsense

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ggthydrangea · 1 year

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i looove kbands!! i also like day6, and the rose has some good music too (i liked their recent album a lot). i'm actually seeing n.flying in concert in jan so now i need to learn their names before then haha though they only have 5 members i think (lol the way i think anything less than 8 or 9 members is "not that much" anymore 😂)

i had the same issue with hxh, though it was really good when i finally got around to watching it! i prefer the shorter shows (which is kinda why i like kdramas now, cuz they usually end around 16 episodes as opposed to american shows where they sometimes go on for years and years lol), sometimes it just feels overwhelming to have so many episodes to watch all at once. and i loved fullmetal alchemist brotherhood!! it made me cry haha

sorry that chan question i asked last time is a big one to answer hahaha 😆 instead, here is a video made for me and you LOL (alright mainly me, but chan looks SO GOOD in that outfit phew)

and some random questions...1) what are your 3 favorite colors if you had to choose, and 2) what are 3 things you're looking forward to in the next week? :D hope your day/night is going well <3

Kbands are so fun!!! I listen to a little bit of a lot of them, Day6 is definitely up there for me, as is the The Rose though I'm behind on their music, and N.flying is very fun! My favorite kband right now is Xdinary Heroes, they're so good!!! Haha I feel that... To me 5 members isn't bad at all, it's a pretty easy number. That's really cool that you get to see them live!!! I hope you have a great time!

Yeah I feel that, sometimes even if it's really good, a really long show can be a lot! FMA is so good but also so dark. I really appreciate the balance, but getting through the beginning is hard when it's so sad! 😭

No it's okay! It's a good question, things just got a little crazy for me so I didn't quite have it in me, but I can definitely make a list of some of my favorites!!! Haha yes their Waiting for Us outfits were so nice, I'm such a sucker for a button up shirt. 😔

I'm putting the rest under a read more so this doesn't get too long!

Okay here are some moments in no particular order:

This whole vlive is so funny!!!

Chan singing Bubblegum K.K. 🥺

This dance cover??? Hello???

This song is so pretty I love his voice!!!

This is so funny!!!

Puppy interview!!!!!!!!!!!

His trip back to Australia, I got so emotional seeing him back there, it was everything! 😭

Any time he smiles, I love his smile so much it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy!

Ooo I really like blues, navy blue and sky blue especially! I also like a nice soft purple, and a gentle green can be nice! But blue is my top favorite. 💙 Next week...? Haha welllllllll. Oof that's kind of a hard one. I work the 13th through the 24th with no days off so uh. Yeah. But it is nice that Christmas is getting closer, I'll get to see family! I'm also taking myself out for boba at some point next week so that will be nice! How about you? And I hope your day/night is going well as well!

Too many vlive clips to list them all but I love his dad jokes and cute moments! Also when he makes references to stuff that I grew up with (like Sesame Street or The Wiggles I get very mushy 🥺, I'm a nostalgia sap)

The way Chan growls his lines in Charmer live feels like a personal attack to me

Everything about KCON LA 22... His looks (all of them!!!), being a cute MC, the way he performed, of my gosh that KCON will live rent free in my head forever

The rest of these are fancams

Vampire Thunderous - I'm generally neutral on vampires but he looks so good oh my goodness he looks so good... And the way he keeps smiling is so cute. 🥺

Maniac - I just think this is a really nice look for him, and I like how he sounds a little more growly in this performance (I may perhaps have a weakness for the way he's growlier performing live...)

All In 1 - I like this look on him a lot 👉👈

All In 2 - another fun outfit

#ask #anonymous #🐺 anon #stayblrsecretsanta22

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booksteaandtoomuchtv · 1 year

Note

may i ask you questions 1,15,18 and 19 from the captain swan christmas ask game that was floating around?

🏴‍☠️🦢❔🎅

Absolutely! Thank you for the ask!

1 - How long have you been a OUAT fan?

I started watching as it was released, eleven years ago. And, I adored it. But, some life events occurred and situations changed and I failed to pick it back up until this year. We have Disney + b/c children and it popped up there. I love fairytale retellings, especially when the villain is given depth. So, I picked it back up and have rewatched it three times? Some episodes four times, since August/September. It and Miranda are my comfort shows, so the rewatch numbers are going to be ridiculous very soon. ha 15 - Favourite Christmas Song

This just changed this year - "Snow Waltz" by Lindsey Stirling

18 - Do you have any Captain Swan Christmas headcanons?

If you haven't seen Kazzy's answers to this, I point you that way b/c those have been living (rent-free) in my head since she shared them. Original HC though... Killian always gets the best gifts. Not necessarily big or extravagant but always something that means so much to Emma. Emma gives gifts that are practical. Killian adores them and uses them endlessly and dramatically so Emma knows he likes them. Regina, the Charmings, and the Swan/Jones get together on Christmas Eve for a late family lunch. Killian makes everyone breakfast while they all cook. Regina makes the centrepiece of the meal and she is an outstanding cook. Snow makes pies - not apple - and desserts and they are wonderful. David makes a spiced cider to warm everyone up - one for the kids and one for adults. Emma brings a side dish that she picked up at Granny's the night before and put in her own dish to reheat when everyone starts cooking together. Everyone knows she doesn't cook it, but no one calls her out. They play Christmas music in the background and trade homemade gifts afterwards. (Snow - knitting, David - woodwork, Emma - painting, Killian - leatherworking, Henry - stories, Prince Neal - fingerprinting that Snow clearly helped with, Hope - drawing with crayons that she didn't let anyone help with)

19 - Favorite Captain Swan headcanons in general?

Killian and Emma have watched every Peter Pan retelling, cartoon, etc, and Killian vehemently discusses his portrayal in the media. Sometimes Emma will mutter "tick-tock" just to rile him up again. Killian doesn't work at the sheriff's office long, he finds it stifling. He ends up being a SAHD with Hope. They go to parks, go sailing, and have an adventure every day. Killian cooks. He is very good at it. Emma has gotten very good at very specific snack items - making popcorn on the stove, grilled cheese, etc.

I should probably actually get some work done this morning, so I will leave us there.

#ouat christmas ask #cssecretsanta #ask game

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dayslynthesix · 2 years

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yesterday i was thinking about my girl, well, she's not exactly my girl but i still don't know how to call her, but whatever, and i was thinking about taylor swift songs and which one of her songs i would recommend to her, but considering that ill never show this to her and i hope she'll never find this post so im leaving here all the songs i associate with her or that i would recommend and the reasons in no particular order

afterglow: the part where taylor said "i blew things out of proportion and now youre blue" its entirely on my part, i interpreted things in a way and it wasn't and i wish it things could be the way i wish, but the rest of the song is fully for her, with the exception of the small part "it's so excruciating to see you low" because it pretty much cause me physical pain to see her upset or sad with anything and not be able to do nothing

call it what you want: i think its a beautiful song and the part that says "i want to wear his initial on a chain around my neck/not because he owns me but cause he really knows me", i would definitely wear her initial on a chain around my neck, and even though its not the reason for my recommendation, its because i would like her to feel loved the way joe loves taylor

anti hero: just for her to know how i feel sometimes, but when im around her im just so happy and so glad that i stay on that state of just happiness even after she's gone

false god: im not sure about this one precisely but i think she would like because its not the usual pop song and the lyrics is awesome

cruel summer: another one i dont know why, but its one of my favorite song's of taylor and theres a lot to say about how this song pass the vibe of summer in italy, eating gelato and drinking wine

you are in love: this one its pretty obvious because i am in love and i think this song resume pretty well that

delicate: because we still aren't friends but we're more than colleagues and things are delicate, and specially the part where taylor asks "is it chill that you're in my head?" because she lives rent free on my mind

gorgeous: "you should think about the consequences of your magnetic field being a little too strong" every time im around her im gravitating toward her, im always paying attention on her and she is gorgeous, and this song hits different after the time we spent talking

#so in love #taylor swift please stop making love songs

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darling-i-read-it · 3 years

Text

Nightly Visits

John Pruitt (Father Paul) x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: MIDNIGHT MASS SPOILERS, probably a lot of religious undertones that I got wrong, a priest breaking his vows, the reader is not religious but goes to the church in curiousity, lots of religion talk

Author’s Note: Y’all asked and y’all shall receive lol. I’m sorry if I messed up any of the religion stuff, feel free to let me know if I did! I tried to be as respectful as possible but I honestly don’t know enough about it to be certain. (I know @countbeanieboo and @katie-lynnc wanted a father paul fic so I hope you don’t mind me tagging you!)

Summary: You come to the island for a week vacation and wander around out night before finding yourself at the church.

Song: Take me to church by hozier (yall already know)

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Crockett Island was not the dreamy getaway that you had imagined but it would have to do. It was affordable and it was secluded. If you were going to get away, you may as well go where there’s nothing but water for thirty miles on either side.

You had your phone up to your ear as you looked out at the waves crashing against the shore. The ferry that had brought you hadn’t even left yet, the reminisce of its movement evident in the water movements.

“So? What’s it like out there in Jesus town?” your friend Amanda asked into your ear. You looked around, holding your jacket closed.

“I just got here. But it isn’t exactly the sunny resort I wanted.”

“Well remember, it was all you could afford right now. I told you to save up but no, you had to go now. Regardless, just try and breathe in that salty air and forget about life over here on the mainland for a while.” You nodded a bit to yourself. She was right. You just needed to let go.

“I will. I’ll text you when I’m all settled in.” “Don’t get roped into the church out there! I hear it’s very clingy.” You rolled your eyes and hung up. Maybe you would check out the church. It couldn’t hurt. Maybe it would actually but you shoved it aside. You had a house to find.

===

It didn’t take you long before you came across the house that you were renting for the week. You were just renting the basement of a woman that already lived there. It was one of the only ways to stay on the island. There were no hotels or motels. The only way you were able to get over and stay was to find someone who was willing to do a sort of air bnb situation.

“I have no idea why you’re staying here,” Erin Greene said, shaking her head as she set the table for two. “There isn’t much to do.”

“I just wanted to get away from the hustle and bustle of work,” you admitted. You and Erin had hit it off over the phone. Apparently she had a baby on the way and was eager to get in some extra cash other than her teaching job.

“Well you could have gone to Hawaii.”

“That is so expensive,” you said, shaking your head light heartedly. “I just needed to be out of my own life.” She placed down your plate and met your eyes.

“Well welcome to my life. It’s very uneventful. The only thing people do on this island is go to church and fish,” she explained.

“That is the exact kind of thing I need right now.” Erin had graciously made dinner, though you had offered a couple times.

“Are you Catholic?” she asked innocently. You shrugged.

“I’ve never really believed in anything. So no I guess.”

“Maybe you oughta go sometime. Just try it out.” She shrugged. “It’s not for everyone but if you wanna really live the Crockett Island life, you can’t go without it.”

====

When night came later you found yourself unable to sleep. You tossed and turned in the cot that Erin had gotten out of you. You were perfectly comfortable but your mind just wouldn’t shut off. You blamed it on the unfamiliar setting.

You tossed on a hoodie and slipped on your shoes before going through the basement door out to the cold outside. It was chilly by the sea.

You weren’t sure where you thought you were going when you started walking but you just started to go. You had your phone on you in case you got lost. You walked along the side of the quiet roads into town.

Everything was shut down. The whole town was probably asleep. Though you were alone, you didn’t feel lonely. There was something comforting about being surrounded by so many people who felt safe enough to leave their doors open. You had your hands shoved in your pockets as you looked up at the shining night stars.

Through the darkness of the closed down shops and stores, there was a blazing light. By the cross at the front you figured it was the church.

You weren’t sure what it was that drew you to it. At the time, you wondered if maybe it was truly the pull of God. Maybe you just needed to believe in something. Perhaps it was just the fact that it was the only thing lighting up.

After everything though, you knew it was him.

You walked through the front doors, welcomed by the warm glow of candle light. You shivered, adjusting to the lack of cold and you sat in the back pews, looking up at the altar. You had been in a church before but never alone. It was an odd feeling. Like there was some sort of static electricity in the air.

You sat there for a moment in silence with yourself. You could feel your eyes drooping.

The front double doors opened, causing you to jump out of your skin. You turned around and met the eyes of John Pruitt for the first time. He looked equally surprised to see you.

“It’s late,” he said dumbly. You nodded.

“I’m sorry, should I not be here? I’m not…” You laughed gently and stood up. “I’m not religious.”

“You’re not a local,” he said. He wasn’t wearing a collar to indicate he was any kind of priest. He was wearing what looked to be pyjamas. He extended his hand to you and you shook it.

“No, no I’m actually staying here for the week. Y/N.”

“Father Paul.” Your eyes went wide.

“Oh you’re- nice to meet you. I’m sorry for barging in here so late I just couldn’t sleep.” He shook his head gently.

“No, never apologize for coming here. The doors are always open to those who need it.” His smile was warm and inviting. You wondered if that was a priest thing or maybe it was just a Paul thing.

“Thank you,” you said and you meant it. “Can I ask what you’re doing here so late?” Paul shrugged his shoulders, holding his arms.

“I didn’t feel good. Hoping to pray the pain away,” he said honestly.

“I can understand that.” He gestured to the front of the building.

“Would you like to sit with me? You don’t have to pray if you don’t want to. But I could use the company.” You thought about it for a moment and figured you didn’t have anything better to do. You nodded once and he smiled gently, walking up to the front of the room. He sat at the front pew and you sat beside him.

He closed his eyes and interlocked his fingers. You felt a tad awkward, like you were intruding on a personal moment. You looked forward and closed your eyes to give him some privacy.

You sat there together in a comfortable silence for what felt like forever. You could have lived in that moment forever, you found yourself thinking. This is what you were looking for. A moment where your brain could just exist. No thinking about the future or worrying about the past. Just...a comfortable place to sit.

When you opened your eyes again Paul had his eyes open.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to ruin your moment.”

“Oh no I wasn’t...yeah I was having a moment,” you admitted. He smiled warmly.

“This place has that effect.”

“I think it might’ve been you Paul.” You pursed your lips. “Or Father? Father Paul? I’m sorry I’m truly awful with this stuff.” He shook his head, a gentle look on his face.

“You only have to call me Father if you want to. But Paul is fine too.” You nodded once, looking down at your hands.

“Do you feel better?” He shrugged.

“Better enough. How about you? Did you find what you came for?”

“You know what? I think I did.” ===

Erin was surprised when on Sunday morning you asked to go with her to church.

“I thought you said you weren’t-”

“I’m open to new things Erin,” you had said.

Now here you were, stuffed into the seats alongside the rest of the town. The church looked very different in the daylight. The stillness and static was all but gone. You had to admit, perhaps a midnight mass would be better suited to you. Erin gave you a run down on how to be respectful and you did everything you needed to.

Paul was happy to see you there. Very happy. His eyes barely left you the whole time he spoke, like he was preaching directly to you. At the end of the service plenty of people had gone up to speak to him so you decided to slip out quietly but before you could leave he called your name.

“Y/N!” You turned, trying to pretend you hadn’t been wishing he would call your name.

“Paul! Father Paul,” you corrected. “The collar looks nice on you.” He flushed.

“I’m glad you decided to come this morning. What did you think?” “Not bad. Though I don’t know if it’s exactly for me.” He nodded.

“It isn’t for everyone,” he admitted. “I’m happy you gave it a fair shot though.”

“Erin is about to leave so I have to go but...but I’ll see you tonight?” He gave you a gentle secret nod. You turned on your heels and walked out the front door where Erin was waiting for you. She nudged you, laughing.

“If you sleep with the priest I think this whole town might have it out for you,” she said, laughing.

“I’m not gonna sleep with the priest. I can’t do that right? That’s like, against the rules?” She scoffed.

“Ah so you were wondering!”

“Maybe a bit.”

“Yes, you’re right. He can’t have romantic relationships. It’s a sin.” You nodded once and glanced back at the church as you got into her car.

“Good to know.”

====

When you approached the church later that night Father Paul was already standing outside waiting for you.

“It’s cold. You could have gone inside,” you said. You were holding yourself. Despite the winter coat you were still freezing. He shook his head.

“I thought we could not go to church tonight if you don’t mind.” You raised your chin.

“Why?”

“I spend my whole day in there. I would rather us go somewhere else. I live just over there and I can make a mean cup of hot chocolate.” You smiled.

“You’ve convinced me.”

The two of you walked over to the small home that was next to the church and he let you inside.

“If Beverly Keane sees you, you might be crucified,” he said as you walked inside. You scoffed.

“That sounds bad. Why would she do that?”

“She would jump to conclusions. A man and woman in the same home at night. She’s that kind of woman. I think she wants so badly for things to be true sometimes she single handedly brings them into fruition. The good and the bad,” he said absentmindedly. He started to make the hot coco. You sat down at the table behind him. He had left his collar off, wearing regular clothing again.

“Then I hope she didn’t see. I wouldn’t want you getting into trouble.”

“I’m the only priest this island has. I think I’ll be alright,” he said gently. He stirred and handed you the cup he had just made. You let the warm liquid touch your lips and felt it fall down your throat pleasantly. “Can I ask you a question?”

You nodded.

“Sure.”

“Why aren’t you religious?” You shrugged.

“I never put much thought into it I suppose. The whole thing. The world, the Earth. I was taught science, I wasn’t raised in a religious household. It was just never a concern. I suppose it could be the same reason you are religious. Were you grown into it? Perhaps it was an event?” He nodded once. He cleared his throat.

“You would be right.”

“It’s just a matter of the life you’ve lived,” you said finally. You looked into each other’s eyes. You wondered if he had ever kissed anyone. You hoped he had. Those lips looked easy to kiss, nice. You tried not to imagine it.

“The world forces you to become one way by forcing experiences onto you.”

“I suppose so. This hot coco is really good.”

“Thank you. I’ve been making it for years.” He sat down beside you and put his cup down. Your breathing was shallow. His hand was just beside yours, barely touching. You were both staring at your hands. It was almost like you were begging them to move, like it wasn’t a part of your body but instead a show you saw.

Paul put his pinky finger on top of yours and you interlinked them.

“How long are you on the island?”

“A week.”

“And then I will likely never see you again.”

“It’s possible.”

He put your hand to his lips and you tried to suppress a gasp but it didn’t work that well. His eyes were closed like he was thinking really hard about something. When they opened again he met yours.

And then he was kissing you.

====

Erin put the eggs on your plate. You rubbed your eyes.

“Late night?” she asked, confused. You nodded.

“Thank you for making breakfast.”

“What do you get up to when you leave that late? The only thing open is the-” She paused. She put the pan down. She put the spoon in the pan. “Did...did you….”

“No, no of course not.”

Something had happened. She wasn’t sure what. But something.

#father paul x reader #john pruitt x reader #midnight mass spoilers

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milliumizoomi · 3 years

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๛𝐓𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑

๛𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : Draken x Black! Reader, Nahoya “Smiley” x Black! Reader, Mitsuya x Black! Reader, Kazutora Black! Reader

๛𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 : Major Fluff

๛𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : mild cursing + manga spoilers in kazutora’s part

๛𝐀/𝐍 : when i tell u this has been living in my head rent free,,, ive been DYING to write it and now it is heaaaa😩😩 !! hope you enjoy!!

━━ 𝐃.𝐑.𝐀.𝐊.𝐄.𝐍

❏ off the bat I’d like to say he’d very much stare for a quick min beforehand realize what he doin

❏ he dropped you off at the salon and then took off figuring that it’s gonna take you a while

❏ and you being the independent bitch you are decided to not call him when you finished

❏ you wanted to suprise him plus the place wasn’t far from your house anyways

❏ what you did not anticipate though was to be standing in front of the leaders and vice leaders of toman whom were jus casually sitting in the park

❏ draken looked at you and his eyes widened

❏ he was staring respectfully

❏ and best believe all the boys sitting around him were snickering at the face he was making

❏ he blinked a couple times before walking towards you

❏ he wrapped his hands around your shoulder and pulled you into his chest

❏ “why didn’t you tell me you were finished, I would’ve come to get you”

❏ “the place isn’t far from home plus I wanted to surprise you. Do you like it?”

❏ “mhm. Is that my hair color?”

❏ “yes it is. It was inspired by you”

❏ you looked at him and smiled as you said that

❏ “heh. Well you look very pretty babe. And if your doing you hair again, you should use my hair color again. I love it” he whispered to you

❏ ofc you started cheesing and nodded at him

❏ and expect for one or two pics of you with the hair style to be in his phone

❏ but he’d just stare and you with the softest look on his face

❏ and sometimes when you’re either talking to somebody else or you’re busy with something and he’s near you, he’d past by you and whisper something like “your so fucking pretty you know that?” or “can’t look away you’re a distraction”

❏ overall he’d admire you a lot

❏ he just loves looking at you with the your hair cuz he finds you so beautiful he just can’t look away

━━ 𝐒.𝐌.𝐈.𝐋.𝐄.𝐘

❏ oh lord

❏ all I can say that he’d definitely be intrigued

❏ you had told him that you wouldn’t see him for the day since you’d be busy

❏ ofc he found this a little strange but nonetheless he understood

❏ so when you pulled up to a toman meeting the next day, Emma and hina literally started squealing

❏ you had to stand outside til the meeting was over so he hadn’t seen you yet

❏ and granted the gang inside knew something happened because the two girls outside with you squealed a little too loud when they saw you

❏ so now everybody was suspicious

❏ but the meeting continued

❏ anyways when the meeting ended the two girls pushed you behind them to hide you until your boyfriend came out

❏ the last people to come out were the captains and vice captains

❏ so when they come out to see Emma and Hina huddled up close together they looking at each other like “what the fuck are they doing”

❏ “smiley” Emma called out

❏ “hm” he answered, kinda thrown off by her calling out to him

❏ “where’s y/n?” she asked, trying not to smile

❏ “oh I don’t know I haven’t seen her since yesterday. I was just about to go to her house now. Why?” He answered

❏ “Well~” Hina said in a sing song voice

❏ “Y’all stop shh don’t—“ you started but were cut off when both girls shoved you in front of them

❏ you stood there in silence with your hair covering a portion your face

❏ there was silence and it was loud

❏ nobody said a thing

❏ you looked up to see smiley’s eyes open and looking at you

❏ “hiii babeee..~” you said anxiously because of the eyes on you

❏ “your hair” smiley said with his smile growing bigger and slight blush on his face

❏ “yeah I took inspo off you. Like it?” You asked

❏ he went and picked you up and walked away from the group of boys and girls still standing there

❏ “damn right. You love me so much that you you get my hair color for your hair huh?” He said teasingly

❏ “mmcht. I ain’t letting you tease me. But yes I love you stupid” you answered

❏ he smiled widely at this.

❏ but chile he’d be so possessive

❏ everytime you’re with him and he sees people staring, he’d stand behind you and rest his head on your shoulder while looking them dead in the eyes and smile

❏ and he’s always playing with your hair

❏ he’s just so happy that you did it cuz now it can let people know you’re with him

❏ and we all know he’s a possessive little bitch

━━ 𝐌.𝐈.𝐓.𝐒.𝐔.𝐘.𝐀

❏ omg this sweetheart

❏ I love this man so much omg

❏ he’d be thrown off by it but he’d love it too

❏ like so much

❏ you go to school together and let’s say it’s the weekend

❏ mitsuya got things to do and so do you

❏ so the both of you agree to see each other on Monday

❏ so you got your hair done cuz let’s be honest

❏ can’t go nowhere lookin homeless

❏ so when you go to school everybody was looking at you

❏ you walked in and when to the club room to where mitsuya usual is in the morning before school starts

❏ “babe? You in here?” You said walking into the room

❏ “yeah I’m right here good morni—“ he answered but stopped suddenly when he turned around and looked at you

❏ one word. Red.

❏ it took him by suprise so much that he blushed profusely

❏ “Takashi? Are you ok?” You said walking towards him

❏ “I like your hair.. is that my hair color?” He asked trying to calm himself down

❏ “mhm. your hair’s jus so pretty so of course I had to try it out”

❏ he pulled your arm and wrapped his hand around your waist and hugged you

❏ “you look really pretty.. I love it” he mumbled into your hair

❏ “now let’s go to class before we’re late”

❏ but he would definitely get distracted if you two were in the same class

❏ and when you go to lunch he always has his hand around your shoulder to make rest on his shoulder

❏ overall just thinks you’re so pretty that it’s always distracting him

━━ 𝐊.𝐀.𝐙.𝐔.𝐓.𝐎.𝐑.𝐀

❏ oh this boy

❏ oh pls do this for him pls do it

❏ he deserves it

❏ say it’s one of those times he’s in jail and you go to visit him

❏ you walk in and sit down at the booth and waited for them to bring him out

❏ when they did you looked over at him and smiled

❏ “hi babe how ya been in here?” You said smiling at him

❏ before he even sat down he froze

❏ “babe.. your hair.. did you..?” He started as he finally sat down

❏ “yup! your hair’s jus so cool and I decided to steal it from you” you said

❏ he smiled and blushed

❏ “thanks babe,, m’glad I still have you” he said while looking down

❏ you looked at him softly

❏ “you know I got you bae and stay strong in here ok. If you don’t I’ll end up in here for beating yo ass hear me nigga?” you said teasing

❏ he laughed and nodded

❏ “mhm babe I hear ya” he said laughing

❏ “I’ll be here for you, you know that and also I’m keeping this style for everytime I come to see you” you said happily

❏ “mhm.. I love you and thanks for visiting me” he said

❏ “oh and ya keep the hair,, you look so pretty with it” he continued

❏ you smiled and nodded at him

❏ the security guard blew a whistle which meant kazutora had to go back to his cell

❏ “bye babe love you” he said as the guard came to get him

❏ “love you too babe” you smiled at him and got up to leave, waving at him

©Property of Milliumizoomi. Please don’t rectify, repost or modify without my permission. Plagiarism will NOT be tolerated.

Taglist: @develith @keiwaizumi @unfazedrose @kiribis-confesion-page @darylthekidd @gm4176 @blackweebtrash @erensbbg @shamwizzy @kloudyisdepressed @namjoonswifeyy @cosmiclvsh @bakuhoes-bxtch @morosis-haze @dukina @4igital @dat-black-bish323 @k3isuk3 @browniezero @kloesklarity @aizawash0e @Plxnetjeezy @sukunasbabymama @royalelusts (Open ! click here to be added!)

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 3 years

Note

Prompt idea: Geralt gets a contract for a monster that has been sighted nearby. When he tracks it down, he is surprised to find mothman!Jaskier who (much like actual mothman) has an ass that won’t quit.

I just want you to know that Mothskier now lives in my head rent free 24/7. I love him. I would die for him. This is my new favorite emotional support au.

2k-ish words - please feel free to shove comments through the bars of my enclosure, I would really like that

art by the ever-wonderful @mawbwehownets, whose drawing of Mothskier made me legit cry.

tw: mild injury, brief blood mention, strangers to lovers

---

“So what you’re saying,” Geralt raises an eyebrow slowly, curious, “Is that you need me to catch a monster that’s half man and half moth?”

“Yup.”

“Alright,” Geralt pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. The frustrated Witcher takes a slow breath to calm and center himself, before he ends up botching the entire contract-writing process. Humans tend to grow attached to the strangest monsters sometimes, and apparently this mysterious local being was no different. “Let me get this totally straight, so there are no mistakes or misunderstandings. You want me to capture this man-moth and get it out of your woods, but you don’t want me to kill it?”

“He’s called the Mothman, and he’s pretty damn stubborn about sticking around,” the aging farmer corrects Geralt with a little frown. Then his expression shifts and he smiles in a way that seems almost apologetic. “We were hoping you could find a way to relocate him without hurting or killing him, Master Witcher.”

“That’s completely possible, if he isn’t attached to this specific patch trees by any magical or biological means. You said his natural habitat is just… the forest?”

“As long as there's an abundance of pine around he seems pretty happy. Before he came to live with us, Mothman lived in a heavily forested area up the coast; or at least that’s what the historical records and local mythology seem to indicate.”

“That’s actually pretty helpful information to have on hand, I’m impressed,” Geralt nods. “Alright, Mr. Stevens. I promise to relocate the poor thing without killing or maiming him, and I’ll be sure to take him somewhere far enough away that your crops won’t be in danger. Thanks for calling me first instead of just going straight to an extermination service.”

“Honestly, Master Witcher,” the farmer sighs and readjusts his dirty baseball hat, “If it weren’t for the mischief he’s been getting into lately, we would have let him stick around until spring. I hate to admit it to a man as strong and stern-faced as yourself, but the poor creature is almost… adorable at times.”

“Well that’s a first,” Geralt chuckles, honestly amused by the situation he’s found himself in. “A monster being referred to as ‘adorable’ rather than ‘terrifying’. I’ve never heard such a thing in my many years of life.”

“Then you’d better prepare yourself, Sir Geralt. He’s got a pair of big blue puppy-dog eyes that’ll knock you on your ass if you aren’t careful. And that’s coming from a man who raised three daughters with dimples.”

“Hmm. Fuck.”

---

Geralt knows enough about moths to come up with a plan he thinks will work.

Before he heads into the woods to find and capture the poor wandering creature, the Witcher takes a detour through the lighting section of the nearest Lowe’s.

---

Unfortunately for Geralt, the farmer was right about the power of Mothman’s puppy dog eyes, which are big and blue and begin to water as soon as the Witcher’s net knocks him to the ground. The creature lies in a whimpering tangle of limbs beneath the heavy, magically enhanced restraints. Geralt takes an opportunity to look at what the locals called "a cryptid".

Mothman has a long, lithe body that's covered in a light layer of grey-brown fur, but his hair resembles that of a human’s, falling over those enormous blue eyes in a lovely chestnut fringe. When Mothman sees the swords on Geralt’s back he cries out in panicked recognition and tries to pull his arms up far enough to shield his face. The lamp Geralt used to lure him into the clearing is still bathing him in a pool of yellow light; it’s almost pretty for a monster, Geralt notes.

As the Witcher takes a step forward, the cryptid squeaks and buries his face against his own shoulder. His entire frame is trembling.

“Hey there, shhhhh,” the Witcher murmurs quietly. He drops into a squat and holds both hands up to show Mothman that they’re weapon free. Tears are now falling freely down the creature’s surprisingly human face; whoever or whatever this is, they are likely some kind of Fae. “I’m not here to hurt you, I just want to get you back through the veil.”

“Liar,” Mothman huffs. His voice has a surprisingly musical quality to it and Geralt is now sure of his Fae parentage (or grand-parentage).

“I promise I’m not lying,” Geralt reassures him, slowly crawling forward. When he reaches for the nearest corner of the net, he feels all of Mothman’s muscles go tense. “I’m going to lift this up and I am going to restrain you, but I swear that I’m not going to kill you. I wish to cause as little distress as possible. Is that alright, Mothman?”

The creature hisses and yanks his foot back away from where Geralt’s hand had nearly touched it. “Jaskier.”

“Hmm?” Geralt glances up, raising an eyebrow.

“My name is Jaskier,” the Fae repeats, glaring up from between the sections of woven rope that make up the heavy net. “Not Mothman.”

“My apologies, Jaskier,” Geralt bows his head. He words his introduction carefully, in case this thing can manipulate his name like others of his kind: “You may refer to me as Geralt.”

“That’s your real name,” Jaskier states. The Witcher’s head snaps up.

“How did you know?”

“Hmm,” Jaskier sticks his tongue out as he mimics the sound Geralt made earlier. “Not telli-AH! Stop! Oh go- gods, stop! Please!”

Geralt drops the short section of rope he’s trying untangle from around Jaskier’s ankle and snaps his eyes upwards, already searching for damage. “What’s wrong!?”

“My wing!” Jaskier bawls. His scent spikes out through the clearing, sharp with panic and pain. The creature’s chest begins to shake more violently than before, his shoulders shuddering with the rising force of his sobs, “It’s t-t-torn! Oh gods, my wing! Sir Witcher, p-please!”

Geralt freezes, his gaze settling on the torn section of Jaskier’s large, furry wing. It’s a nasty wound near one of the joints, a faint trickle of barely-luminescent blood has already dried around the edges. Jaskier tries to flutter it a little and screams in agony when the muscles shift too suddenly, shrilly enough that Geralt needs to cover his hypersensitive ears. The Witcher's heart crashes down into his boots; based on the way the shivering Fae has gone pale and silent, the pain is too much for him to process. He’s gone into shock.

A torn wing is exactly the kind of thing Geralt had promised the farmer (and the collective of townspeople he represented) wouldn’t happen to the peaceful moth creature if they hired a Witcher instead of an exterminator. He sighs and gives the strange being another once-over. “Everything's alright, Jaskier. You’re going to be alright. I’m so, so sorry that you've been wounded. We’ll get you out of this net and get you something for the pain, but it’s going to hurt a little to untangle you. Stay still, don’t struggle, and it’ll be over soon.”

“J-Just kill me,” Jaskier pants. He’s continuing to hyperventilate and Geralt needs him to calm down before he passes out. The Fae reaches a hand for the dagger at Geralt's waist and the Witcher twists out of reach with a frown. Jaskier sobs again, fingers still seeking, “I might n-n-never fly a-again so just k-kill me!”

“Breathe with me, Jaskier,” the Witcher instructs, forgoing patience and cutting through the net with that same dagger. He scoops Jaskier up into his arms, ignoring the keening sound at the back of Jaskier’s throat when his wing is jostled, and rushes the Fae to his truck, tucking him into the passenger’s seat and wrapping him in a large, fluffy blanket. “I’m taking you to my friend. She’s an expert at healing magical creatures and I'm certain that she'll get your wing fixed in no time.”

Jaskier doesn’t give an answer. When Geralt looks up into the creature’s face again, the injured Fae has already passed out.

---

Jaskier moves with all the grace of a newborn foal as he explores the room Geralt has provided for him. His wing has been inspected, treated, and bandaged by a rather scary sorceress named Yennefer, who glared at the Witcher the entire time she was caring for him. She had also taken one of Geralt’s old t-shirts and cut an enormous hole in the back for Jaskier’s wings to fit through. The shirt’s bottom hem falls to the middle of his thighs and the thick black material is softer than anything he’d ever felt before.

He hears a knock on the door and calls out, “It’s open!”

Geralt enters slowly, bearing a pair of pajama bottoms and a mug of tea. “I brought you some last minute supplies and - uh… I brought you some tea. Yen always likes some before she goes to sleep and I figured since this was a new place and new places can be scary that I should-”

“Thank you,” Jaskier interrupts, smiling shyly. His antennae twitch happily as he takes the offerings from Geralt's hands and the Witcher watches them with wide eyes. Jaskier carefully sets the pajamas and the tea on the nightstand before turning back to look at Geralt. “I will… see you tomorrow?”

Geralt gives one sharp nod. “Hmm.”

“Goodnight,” Jaskier sing-songs, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as Geralt exits.

From the other side of the closed door, Jaskier’s superior hearing picks up the Witcher’s final whisper: “Goodnight, Jaskier. I will always be sorry for causing you pain.”

The next morning he meets Geralt at the breakfast table, refreshed and ready to learn about the human world. He’s summoned a glamour in order to hide his more Moth-like traits, the only things that remain of his true nature are his wings and antennae; his fur is gone and he’s dressed in a pair of sweatpants and that same old shirt. The Witcher offers him a bowl of fruit and mug of something sweet-smelling. Jaskier glares into the mug with a slight pout to his lips before finally asking, “What is this?”

“Hot chocolate.”

Jaskier takes a sip and his antennae flutter, twitching happily as he swallows the best drink he’s ever had in his long life. He eats a strawberry from the bowl and slowly works his way through the hot chocolate, eyeing Geralt warily as the Witcher moves through the familiar kitchen to make his own breakfast.

“Where is Yennefer?”

“She went home,” Geralt shrugs.

“She isn’t your mate?”

“N-No,” Geralt sputters, turning to stare at the nervous young Fae. “Why would you think that?”

“You smell like each other.”

“We spend a lot of time together,” Geralt shrugs again. “Good friends, that’s all.”

“Hmm,” Jaskier mimics his host for a second time. Rather effectively by the annoyed twitch at the corner of Geralt’s mouth. “Just wondering.”

“Anything else you’re curious about?”

“Why don’t you have more lights?”

“Huh?”

“Lights,” Jaskier gestures around the minimalistic layout of Geralt’s open-concept kitchen/living room and its distinctive lack of lamps. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans forward against the dark marble countertop. The pout has gone from 'slight' to 'full-bore' and Geralt is clinging desperately to his braincell with how cute it looks. “It’s no fun.”

“You really like lamps, don’t you?” the Witcher replies, mouth dry. Jaskier huffs and takes another sip of his hot chocolate, antennae flickering back and forth in irritation. Geralt bites his lip to hide a smile; it’s too fucking cute, which is an odd thought for a Witcher to have.

“So what if I do enjoy a nice lamp or five in my living space?” Jaskier argues. "I'm a Moth of taste."

“No matter,” Geralt laughs quietly. “Finish your drink before it gets cold.”

---

Jaskier stays with Geralt for a few weeks while his wing heals, and for a creature whose sole interest seems to be fancy light fixtures, the Fae becomes a source of light in Geralt's own world. They go to a nonhuman friendly second-hand store to find Jaskier some more clothes and Geralt discovers the cryptid's love for oddly patterned shirts in bright colors. Jaskier chooses several to fill out his closet, as well as a sweater two-sizes too large in deep black (Geralt tries his best not to attach any meaning to this choice), a few pairs of pants, and a jean jacket that he declares, "Can be altered."

They watch movies together and make food together - Jaskier is always incredibly impressed by the way the automatic coffee maker works, and how easily Geralt can control the flames of the stove. Jaskier also follows the Witcher along on less dangerous hunts and helps bandage him up after worse ones, always there with a smile and a little kiss over the cleaned-up wound.

“It really is magic,” Jaskier always insists, lips pink and shining from licking them as he concentrates. "It makes you heal faster."

Geralt realizes one night - two weeks into Jaskier’s stay, as he leans against the doorframe and watches the strange creature’s even breathing - that he has gone and done the stupidest thing a Witcher can do: fall in love with a pretty, temperamental young Fae. Head over fuckin’ heels, actually.

So he makes a decision.

---

The next evening, after the dinner dishes have been cleaned and put away, Geralt herds Jaskier down the hall to the guest room. Those entrancing blue eyes blink up at him in obvious confusion. “Bedtime already?”

“No, not quite. I just- I made you… uh…”

“Do you have a surprise for me?” Jaskier asks, used to the Witcher's issues with verbalizing.

Geralt nods, relieved and thankful for the Fae’s steadfast understanding. “Do you want to cover your eyes or should I just open the door and show you?”

“I’ll close my eyes,” Jaskier smiles, covering his eyes with both hands. Geralt finds it adorable, as Jaskier always is, and allows himself a matching grin as he swings the door open. The ceiling light is off but Geralt has built a blanket fort at the center of the room and surrounded it with fairy lights of all colors and sizes. Inside the blanket fort is a mass of blankets and pillows; Jaskier has the odd habit of building nests - Geralt jokingly calls them cocoons - and sleeping in those on the floor instead of on the very comfortable mattress the Witcher has provided.

“Open them,” Geralt urges.

Jaskier pulls his hands away and Geralt watches as his pupils go huge and wide. Jaskier's face breaks out in the sunniest, most blindingly happy smile Geralt has ever seen. He turns and throws his arms around the Witcher, his wings fluttering behind him and his antennae twitching and flicking above his head. He tries desperately to speak but only manages a half-snuffled little “I’m-” before bursting into tears of joy.

Geralt just holds him, letting his arms fold carefully around Jaskier’s waist, just beneath his wings.

"I just wanted you to know that, if you wanted to stay, there would be room for you. Your room, if you want it."

"I do," Jaskier smiles, burying his face in the Witcher's neck. "I'd love to stay. I'd love nothing more than to spend my days going on adventures with you."

"Well then," Geralt gathers all of his courage and presses a soft kiss to the crown of Jaskier's head. He's met with happy spasms from the antennae so he does it again. And again. Moving from the top of the Fae's head to his cheeks and then his mouth - pretty and pink and pouting and so worth the trouble. "I suppose we can get started on our next adventure tomorrow."

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emixion · 3 years

Text

School Dance - Day 25 - Maribat March

here’s some fluff after making you all cry yesterday. @maribatmarch-2k21 ao3 link To say that Mme Bustier’s class was excited was an understatement. The students were absolutely ecstatic.

Their class trip to Gotham and tour of Gotham Academy led to an invitation to the school’s upcoming dance while they visited. A school dance at Gotham Academy was no laughing matter, and everyone in Bustier’s class knew it. They’d all packed their very best clothes and accessories, eager to fit in at the fancy affair.

Marinette was excited to wear the new dress she’d designed, but that was about it.

Don’t get her wrong, she loved visiting Gotham and she loved the dress that she made, a baby pink ruffled gown with her signature floral design embroidered on the bodice, but she didn’t anticipate having much fun at this dance.

She didn’t know anyone in Gotham, and her whole class was still enamored by Lila, they barely had any time for her. The only person not hanging onto the liar’s every word was Chloe, and she wasn’t exactly the company Marinette wanted to keep.

Nevertheless, when the night of the dance arrived, Marinette put her dress on and got ready alone.

The other girls were all getting ready together, but she really didn’t want to be around Lila. Besides, she was sure she wasn’t welcome after Lila had tried to frame her for spilling her coffee the other day.

After getting dressed, she had Tikki help her put her hair in a low messy bun, letting a few wavy locks of midnight hair stick around to frame her face.

She applied her makeup, a neutral brown smokey eye and peachy pink lip gloss, as well as her accessories, a rose gold headband and a bracelet to match.

After slipping on her heels, she was ready to go.

Tikki smiled at her chosen as she stood before her.

“Oh, Marinette! You look so beautiful! And so grown up!” The tiny goddess wiped a small tear from her eye.

Marinette giggled, pulling Tikki close to nuzzle her against her cheek. “Thank you, Tikki. I hope tonight goes well.”

“Anything can happen in a new city. Keep an open mind tonight!” Tikki advised.

“Thanks, I will.” Marinette replied, opening her small cross body for Tikki to fly into.

With a sigh, she turned off the light and left her hotel room.

The hotel lobby was full of hustle and bustle as the students of Francis Dupont chattered excitedly about the dance, all dressed in their very best.

Marinette stayed towards the back and kept to herself, waiting patiently for the transportation to arrive.

Suddenly, yells of surprise rang out from her classmates as a stretch limo pulled up in front of the hotel.

Marinette strained a bit to see it, shocked as her class that an actual limo was picking them up instead of a bus.

“Courtesy of the Waynes.” The driver announced as the students stepped into the limo.

“I can’t believe the Waynes did this for us!”

“That’s so cool!”

“We get to ride in a limo?”

Marinette got in last, wondering who these Waynes were that everyone was talking about.

The hall rented for the dance was, in a word, big.

It was decorated to the nines and full of Gotham Academy students, all dressed for the occasion.

Music was already playing and tables were already full of refreshments.

The ecstatic class practically skipped into the hall, all except Marinette.

The miraculous wielder stuck behind, slowly walking in as opposed to her eager peers. She was nervous to be here.

While the rest of her friends stuck close to Lila or danced with their partners, Marinette stayed at one of the tables on the outer edge of the hall, sitting by herself.

She smiled as she watched Nino spin Alya around as the couple laughed. She was glad at least they were having fun.

She was so focused on watching her friends, she didn’t notice the boy walking up to her until he sat down in the chair next to her.

“Excuse me?” The boy called, nearly startling her. She whipped her head over to look at him. He had dark hair, tan skin and the greenest eyes she’d ever seen.

“Yes?” Her voice was a little hoarse as it came out. Clearly she wasn’t expecting to use it.

“I normally don’t approach strangers, but it didn’t sit right with me to watch you sit here all alone. May I keep you company?” The boy asked. Marinette blinked at him.

“Oh, um, sure!” She gave him a smile. “That’s very nice of you. I’m Marinette.” She offered her hand for a shake.

“Damian.” He introduced himself, taking her offered hand and pulling it to his lips. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Y-you too!” She squeaked, her face tinting pink. Damian smiled at her.

“May I ask what a beautiful young lady like yourself is doing by herself at a dance?” He asked, gently putting her hand down.

“Oh, well…” Marinette trailed off, glancing downward. “Um, my class and I aren’t as close as we used to be, and most of my friends are with their partners, so I didn’t want to bother them.”

Damian frowned. “I’m sure you wouldn’t be bothering them if you are their friend, but I understand wanting to sit away from all of the action.”

“Are you not a fan of dances?” She asked.

“More the crowd. I try not to draw too much attention to myself. I find it unamusing.” His face twisted in distaste.

Marinette giggled. “I get that. I try to stay under the radar too.”

“Well, I’m glad I decided to stick to the shadows tonight. I got to meet you.” His face softened when he looked back at her.

Marinette flushed deeper, bowing her head shyly. “Yeah, I-I’m glad I did too.”

The two spent a while talking to each other, staying in their own bubble away from the noise of their peers. Eventually they walked over to the refreshments to get themselves some punch and continued to talk over there.

“What’s your favorite piece that you’ve designed?” Damian asked, continuing their conversation about hobbies.

Marinette pointed sheepishly as her gown.

Damian’s eyes widened. “You made this?”

She nodded. “From scratch.”

“That is..quite impressive.” He mused, admiring the dress for the millionth time that night. “My brother would lose his mind over you. He is always keeping track of up and coming designers.”

“Oh yeah?” She smiled. “I’d love to meet him sometime. Is he your only brother?”

Damian snorted. “Hardly. I have three brothers and a sister. And on top of that, two pseudo sisters and a pseudo brother.”

“Wow,” Marinette laughed. “That’s such a big family.”

“Tell me about it.” Damian muttered. “Do you have any siblings?”

She shook her head. “No, just me. I’d love to have some, though. You’re very lucky.”

“You haven’t tried living with them, Angel.”

She laughed again, taking a small sip of punch.

She’d nearly finished her cup when the music slowed down and the students on the dance floor either stepped back or grabbed partners to dance with.

Marinette watched as Nino and Alya, Juleka and Rose, and Ivan and Mylene all paired up on the floor.

“Marinette,” Damian’s voice pulled her attention back.

“Yes?”

He extended his hand to her. “May I have this dance?”

Marinette stared at him a moment, a smile slowly working its way to her face. “I would love to.” And with that she set down her cup and took the boy’s hand, letting him lead her to the dance floor.

Once on the floor, Damian placed his free hand on her waist, his other still grasping hers. Marinette moved her free hand to his shoulder.

“I might step on your feet.” She whispered guiltily. Damian chuckled softly.

“That’s fine by me.” He pulled her a bit closer.

Unbeknownst to the pair, who were too wrapped up in each other, they had formed quite an audience.

“Is that Marinette with Damian Wayne..?”

“Oh my gosh, look at the way he’s looking at her.”

“The Ice Prince has a girlfriend?”

“Who is that girl? Her dress is stunning.”

Whispers from both of their peers filled the hall, as the other couples stepped back to watch Damian and Marinette.

“You’re beautiful.” Damian murmured, momentarily moving his hand from her waist to brush her bangs out of her eyes.

Marinette gazed back at him, completely captivated. “Thank you.” She breathed.

The slow song played its final cords and the tempo sped up again.

Spell broken, Marinette finally noticed all of the staring, looking around self consciously. “Damian..?” She said his name cautiously.

“C’mon.” Damian said, taking her hand and leading her off the dance floor.

“Why were they staring at us?” She asked once they were in a quieter part of the hall. Damian sighed.

“Because I’m a Wayne.” His voice sounded dejected.

“A..Wayne?” She asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Yes, as in Bruce Wayne’s son, The CEO of Wayne Enterprises? The biggest sponsor of Gotham Academy? Any of that sound familiar?”

Marinette just shook her head.

Damian stared at her for a long moment before he began to chuckle.

“Wait, so, you don’t know who I am?” He asked.

She shook her head again, shrugging. “Sorry?”

“No, no, don’t be.” He quickly took her hands. “I just thought that was the only reason you kept my company tonight. Because of who my family is.”

“Of course not.” She said softly, squeezing his hands in her own. “I spent all this time with you because I like you…” Her voice went quiet and shy near the end.

“I like you, too..” He murmured, squeezing her hands back. “Would you, erm, like to do something while you’re here? Maybe on your free day?”

Marinette smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I would be glad to.”

Once the dance was over and the pair bid farewell for the night, Marinette made her way out front to the waiting limo.

Her class, suddenly having more than enough time for her, swarmed her as she approached, asking her various questions about Damian.

Marinette just grinned and brushed them off.

#maribat #maribat march #maribat march 2021 #daminette #maridami #mlb x dc #ml x dc

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reidyoulikeabook · 3 years

Text

Right Where You Left Me

Ship: BAU! Gender Neutral! reader x Spencer Reid

#Request - Could you do some angst with “you dont deserve my forgiveness?” Any ship!

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Mention of death, violence, injury (not serious), angst, mourning, a lot of tears. Also, swearing, anger, fighting (verbal, not physical.)

Summary: You and Spencer Reid had been together for a year before he ‘died.’ You grieved him. You mourned him.

A/N: Title stolen from my (current) favourite Taylor Swift song. Not sure how I feel about this one but! Here it is anyway! My requests are open & pls feel free to let me know what you think!!

14 days and 30 minutes exactly

You don’t think about the day Spencer Reid died. You can’t, because even remembering he’s dead feels as if an ice bucket has been tipped over your head. Not even now, two weeks later, have you really gotten over the initial shock that you felt. Every waking moment felt like you were trying to solve some kind of never-ending puzzle. Each emotion was overwhelming, too much to process. It felt like things would only start to get better, like everybody promised they would, when you started to be able to name the emotions rather than describe them as the physical sensations they brought on.

And you didn’t think that’d happen anytime soon.

The shared apartment was too much. You hadn’t slept in your bed since he’d been gone, and forbid anyone else from going into the bedroom. It was a sanctuary.

You understood now more than ever why victims families never changed a thing about the room of their loved ones. Every single thing felt deliberate. Theirs. It was a reflection of the time they were most alive, living. A unique snapshot of them in motion. The mess they left that they expected to come home to.

Rationally, you knew that wasn’t true. There wasn’t a sock hanging off Spencer’s bedside table, or a clean cardigan balled up on the floor, for any reason other than he’d been in a rush that morning, and had left an uncharacteristically large mess in his wake. In more ways than one.

***

2 months, 5 days, 8 hours

Being back at work helps somewhat, but the office feels empty without him there to ramble off factoids about anything and everything, to hear Morgan calling him ‘kid’ every five minutes. He only called you that now.

Simmons is nice, really he is. It isn’t his fault he’s there in place of Spencer and you try hard not to feel personally aggrieved by his presence. He doesn’t do anything to antagonise you, he stays out of your way more than anything. You don’t do anything to purposely make him uncomfortable: you do try to be agreeable and make small talk. But it’s hard not to look at him without thinking how, if everything was how it should be, Spencer would be stood in his place.

***

3 months, 26 days, 3 hours.

There is no ‘new normal.’ You’ve heard the term tossed around a few times in relation to grief, but if there is a new normal you’re still struggling to find it. When you’re not on cases, there’s no ‘normal’. You still don't sleep in your own bed. Sometimes you stay on Rossi’s, or Morgan’s, or Garcia’s couch. Sometimes, read: maybe once, it’s in the spare room at the place you and Spencer used to share. Sometimes, when you get worried about being a burden, it’s a hotel. It’s easier to feel as if you’re choosing to stay away from home, rather than acknowledging that home, as you understand it, no longer exists.

You still wake up and instinctually search for Spencer most mornings. Sure, work is keeping you occupied and you smile a little more these days. You even allowed yourself to be dragged out for drinks last weekend. But nothing feels like it should. You don’t know if that’s normal for grief or if you just aren’t moving forward at all, doomed to tread yourself deeper into the melancholic quicksand that’s got a hold on you.

You talk at length about it with Garcia over wine one night.

“Nothing feels right,” you admit, “Everything just feels...”

Garcia waits, just tipping her chin slightly to encourage you to continue. She’s got the counsellor act down and you’d have the decency to feel embarassed if you weren’t just so damn exhausted all the time.

“I feel trapped, I guess. Like I’m frozen. I keep thinking maybe it’ll get better once the trials over. Once the whole legal aspect of it is over and put to bed, then maybe I’ll have some closure on the whole situation,” you mumble, “I just don’t know how to move forward. I don’t feel like I’ve moved forward. And I know it’s only been three months but I’ve only stayed at our apartment twice and I can’t bring myself to move any of his things and...”

She just waits. In that moment, you’re so grateful for her.

“I’m stuck here. I can’t change anything. I can’t bring myself to move any of his things. I’m paying rent on a place I don’t live in but I can’t move because how can I live somewhere he’s never been? I feel like I’m stuck. I can’t move out of the world he lived in but the world is moving on even without him. And I’m just...I’m just here, Garcia.”

She nods sympathetically, placing her hand on your arm, “Maybe it’ll help when the case is wrapped up. When you have that closure.”

“Yeah,” you agree, “Yeah. I hope so.”

“There’s something you’re not saying,” she says, gently, “And you don’t have to say it. But if you’re holding back because you feel guilty then you don’t have to feel guilty about anything you say to me, my darling.”

You start to well up then. The pressure in your chest is heavy, something akin to guilt. It slices into your chest, cut glass sitting between your ribs and slicing you open every time you breathe in. You’ve been thinking it a lot lately. Too much. It’s making you feel awful and you can’t decide if putting it out into the world verbally is going to be a release or make it feel too real.

Garcia waits patiently.

You decide to believe it’ll be the former, then whisper, “I wish I loved him less. I wish I’d loved him less so this wouldn’t hurt as much.”

And then the sobs come. The sobs that wrack your chest and sting your eyes and leave you looking like you’ve been on the receiving end of an upper cut. Because how could you? How could you possibly want to take back any of the love you had so willingly, freely, given to the person you loved most? What kind of person did it make you to want to take back the good memories: to wish that instead of having waffles on the couch that last Sunday, you’d had a fight about the library fine he’d gotten because of you? How could you want to switch the puzzle pieces to create a less idyllic picture of your life together, just so you wouldn’t feel so much loss when you looked at it?

She just rubs your back through it, knowing that no words can help but still saying the thing she thinks you need to hear most, “That doesn’t make you a bad person, sugar plum. That makes you human.”

***

4 months, 6 days, 14 hours.

Hotch calls you all into the briefing room.

“A few months ago a decision had to be made. Somebody had the potential to make an incredible breakthrough on a case that had been airtight for years. But it wasn’t possible for that individual to complete that work without cover. They needed to be officially gone,” Hotch’s voice booms but you swear you can hear a hesitation, “It wasn’t necessary at the time for you to have that information. Providing you with it would have compromised the safety of one of our agents, and the integrity of their investigation.”

You glance around the room, confused, noticing everyone is sharing the same bewildered look. Except Emily.

“I apologise completely for having to keep this from you, it was a decision that was not taken lately, and I did not have the final say. That being said, any discontent about this decision should be directed towards me,” he glances towards Emily, and she’s looking nervous now.

Hotch lets out a huff, somehow more tense than usual, “SSA Reid was not killed after the attack in Seattle. That was his cover, but he was investigating a case.”

He’s still talking but you can’t hear anything. SSA Reid was not killed. SSA Reid was not killed. You flip the sentence over a hundred times. And for the millionth time since SSA Reid was killed, you have no idea what you feel.

There’s uproar from everybody. Shouting. And then Hotch says something and everybody is looking at you, scanning you for a reaction and you have nothing. Nothing at all.

“Hi,” a voice from the doorway, nervous and shy, a voice you’ve only heard in dreams and voicemails and recordings from nights out that you must have watched hundreds of times by now, if they were tapes you would have worn them out long ago.

And you know you can’t face him. You can’t face any of them.

You look around the room, first at Hotch whose eyes flicker with what looks like remorse. Then, at Emily who just looks guilty as all hell. You don’t look at him. You can’t look at him.

The tension in the room is palpable but in your peripheral you see Garcia and J.J flock to the doorway, embracing him.

Rossi, is the one who comes to you, “____?”

You stare at him, completely blankly, “Yeah?”

“You need to speak to him. Need to hear him out.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, allowing him to help you to your feet. His reassuring hands on your shoulders turn you around and you meet his face. The face of the boyfriend you spent the last four months mourning while everybody watched you fall apart. And half of them knew.

So that’s what you feel. Anger.

“Glad you’re back,” you snipe, pushing past him, “Glad you’re alive.”

Everybody watches you go. A tense silence fills the room. Spencer clears his throat, after what feels like an eternity, muttering, “I-I’ll go after ... I’ll go and see if I can...”

It wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for, if he’s honest. Although he wasn’t sure what exactly he’d been expecting.

“____ please, just let me talk to you, I’m sorry, please just let me have a chance to explain,” He manages to catch you at the elevator just in time, slipping through the gap with his lithe body, “Please. I need to explain. I need to apologise.”

“You can apologise as much as you want. You don’t deserve my forgiveness. You’ll never deserve my forgiveness.”

The venom in your tone leaves him floundering.

“___ please,” he’s begging, and you won’t look at him because you can hear the tears in his voice and he’s begging again, “Please, please look at me, please listen to me. You have to understand, you have to give me a chance to explain, please.”

You’ve never been this angry at him before. But you are now. It consumes you, you’ve never understood a crime of passion before and you’re not going to put your hands on him, of course, but fuck do you understand it now. How a person could just snap. The rage swells in you, screaming. Every muscle in your body is tense. It takes all you have to ball your hands into fists, digging your nails into your palm so hard you’re sure they break the skin. You’re furious. Furious at every single one of them.

“You lied to me,” you spit, “You lied to me and let me think you were dead. You and Hotch and Emily. I didn’t sleep in our bed for four months, Spencer. I’ve spent the past four months frozen, like, I couldn’t move forward without you. I didn’t start to move on. I've spent the last four months falling apart and trying to find a way to put myself back together without you, and then what, you just come back? You think we can just go back to normal? Spencer, I didn’t feel alive this past few months. I’ve been floating through, barely keeping it together. And for what? A case? That was important enough for you to do this to me?"

It’s true, you’ve spent the last four months feeling like you were the one who died. That you were united in being ghosts, except you were haunting all the places you used to go together, and he was just haunting your dreams. And he’d been alive. This. Whole. Time.

You storm out of the lift, lifting your head to look at him for only the second time in four months, “Please. Just leave me alone. You’ve done enough.”

He knows you aren’t wrong. Knows he doesn’t know if he could forgive you if the roles were reversed. Knows, more than anything, that he’s really fucked things up. You’ll never forgive him. That’s what you said, and right now, seeing anger like never before in your eyes, he has no reason whatsoever to doubt that isn’t completely true.

You don’t even make it to the parking lot before you feel your resolve melt into absolutely nothing. Anger descending into relief, hot tears cascading down your cheeks as the mantra starts again on a new loop in your head: SSA Reid was not killed.

#spencer reid fanfic #imagine spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid #imagine criminal minds #criminal minds x you #bau!reader

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yvaineseleneposts · 3 years

Text

The Troubadour

Requested: no

A/N: This has to be my longest piece ever! I hope it was worth the wait and that you enjoyed it. There could be a few mistakes in there both in English and Italian, sorry in advance. I loved writing this, it wasn’t exactly what I wanted but I am a perfectionist and I have rewritten this about 5 times. I just needed to post it now!

Pairing: OC!Diana Bianchi & Damiano David

Words: 3k

Warning(s): swearing, drinking, smoking (I mean it’s the 70s…), smoking weed, my Italian (I have been studying this beautiful language for three years now but people make mistakes)

West Hollywood, California // Mid-January 1972

Red eyes.

Sweaty foreheads.

That is all Diana would see when they screamed at her. “CAN I GET TWO BEERS AND A COKE PLEASE?!”

Working behind the bar was not her dream job. Diana remembered it like it was yesterday, she and her friend Tami had gone to The Troubadour to celebrate the weekend when she saw a “help wanted” poster. It was a godsend. Diana applied there and then and not long after she found herself behind the bar, handing out drinks to people who looked like they were having the best time of their lives. Another plus side was the fact that she could attend the concerts of all the artists and bands for free.

Obviously, there were also downsides to this job. For example, Diana couldn’t go out and live her teenage years. She isn’t allowed to drink (too much) on the job and the hours aren’t exactly great. The pay is okay though and the tips are even better. Half of the people don’t even know how much they are giving and walk off like they didn’t just hand you 20 for an eight dollar drink. She doesn’t complain much about her job but she does feel left behind sometimes. Like when Tami or her other friend chat about some weird adventure they had the night before and who they met or kissed. Diana felt like she missed out on a lot of things but she had no other choice.

Her parents had kicked her out when she was 15. Diana moved in with her grandmother and lived with her for a while until she passed away. She has been living alone in her grandmother’s old apartment ever since. A few friends had moved in with her but then moved out again when they had found a better place to live. So it was just Diana paying the rent for the place.

“CAN I GET A RUM AND COKE?!” Diana gets snapped out of her thoughts. Shit, what did he want?! She thinks to herself as she stares at the intoxicated man. “SORRY?!” She shouts back over the loud music. At least she had another reason for not hearing the man. “RUM AND COKE!” That is all the man yells before turning his band to her so he could face the stage. Some weird indie band is playing tonight. Diana wasn’t really into it and honestly couldn’t wait until her boss would send her home for the night. She puts in a little less rum, the man will probably not even taste the difference.

The band had stopped playing somewhere around two a.m. However not all the guests had left around 2.30 which is something Diana hated the most. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy her job but after so many hours standing on her feet, she wanted nothing more than to clean up, go home and get into her warm bed.

“Diana, can you come here for a minute?” her boss asked. What was that tone, was he going to fire her?! “It’s nothing bad, don’t worry.” Pfew. Diana walked behind him into his office.

“What can I help you with, Doug?” She asked as she sat down in the very comfortable chair across from him. Doug Weston had somewhat become her parent over the last few years that she had worked here. He was always so kind to her and could always ask him for help if she needed him.

“I want to get more bands from across the sea. I want interesting people and not just the same bands playing over and over again. New talent that no one has heard of before but will become known because of this place. Inspire new talent, you know?” He was rambling on with his sales pitch as if you had any input, it was his place after all. “And seeing that you can speak more languages than I have ever could, I was wondering if you could write small pieces for newspapers in Europe that will inspire these artists to come here and get all the fame and fortune they want.”

“Sure, Doug. You know I would do anything to help this place… and you of course”, Diana said while a wide grin spread on her face. She felt like she was moving up when in reality it wasn’t a new job position. She would do anything to not have the same indie bands playing almost every night. Diana would never have imagined that she would change the lives of four individuals barely six months later, and change her own life along with it.

Rome, Italy // Mid-March 1972

“The Troubadour. The place where artists and bands from all over the world can make it or break it in the United States. It all depends on the crowd. If they love you, you can come back for an entire week! If not you will receive the money for that evening but sadly you won’t be allowed back. It’s always packed with record executives so you could get a sweet record deal out of this experience. Do you have what it takes? Sign up and good luck to everyone competing in the battle of the bands! – D. B.” Damiano finishes reading. “Ragazzi, I honestly cannot wait till we get to play there! It’s going to be veramente stupendo!”

“Bene Damiano, calm yourself. It’s less than five months away. We still have to play in this dump to even afford to go. We barely have enough money for a motel, we don’t even have the plane tickets yet!” Classic Victoria, always worrying as if she is the mother of the group. “Calmati Victoria, noi staremo bene”, Ethan jumps in. “Let’s get back to practising before we start another fight, sì?” The rest nods their head and pick up their instruments. “I was thinking, should we start with I wanna be your slave oppuro no? Is it too much?” Damiano suggest. “Oh, and for outfits, I have a few ideas?!” Thomas adds like a little kid who is excited for Christmas day. “Positivo, let’s look at those after practice”, Damiano says. Not even ten minutes later they had many up a little setlist. It was a battle of the bands so they had to at least practice 4-5 songs to play against other bands. Then if they were allowed to come back they had to prepare yet another 6 songs on top of those 5 they had already played. They could do it, they had enough songs in their database but were they going to sing their Italian songs or did they have to translate them? The members of Måneskin weren’t sure yet. Luckily for them, they had four months to think about it.

West Hollywood, California // Mid-July 1972

Diana hadn’t even woken up yet, but on the other side of the city, Måneskin had arrived at the airport. “Finalmente ci siamo. Ce l’abbiamo fatta!” Thomas exclaims. Damiano chuckles and throws an arm around Thomas’s shoulders. “Slow down, loverboy. We have not made it yet. We landed yes, but we have a long way to go from here to that stage tonight.” “How every grown-up of you, Damiano”, Victoria teases. “I bet with Ethan that you would follow the first American girl that you saw in this airport and that we wouldn’t see you until much later.” “Ha ha, molto divertente, Victoria. Sei una persona così divertente.” They continue their bickering whilst Ethan collects all of their suitcases. “Addiamo?” He finally asks the group, they all agree and make their way through the busy airport to the designated taxi area. During this, they complain about how crowded it is and how much the air smells. It is nothing like their own country but you have to take chances if you want to become famous like their dream.

Later that day

Doug had told Diana to come into work later than she usually would. It was going to be a busy night and he’d rather have her work during the performances than during the day and wear her out. So here she was around six-thirty instead of two o’clock. It felt so weird because usually when she arrives there is no line out front and now there was one to the end of the block. She passed all the people waiting in line, hearing them complain and moan as she walks up to Mario, the bouncer. He doesn’t even need to see her worker-id, as she walks in he wishes her good luck with tonight. She liked Mario, he was working here before she came and even then he had told her if she ever needed anything him and his wife had an extra bed for her. Honestly, the sweetest guy… also the toughest guy you will ever meet.

As Diana walked to the changing area to hang her coat and bag, she ran into a few participants of tonight’s show. She greeted most of them but they were too busy with themselves, the fame they hadn’t even earned yet was already rising to their heads. Before she could make her way to the bar, Doug called her over.

“Diana, come here for a second. I want to introduce you to a few people.” Classic Doug, always introducing everybody to everybody. If he believed you could make it, he would introduce you to all his workers. However, the bands did not know this, the workers would treat them a little extra. “They are from Italy as well!” As if Diana herself had moved for their, it was actually her grandparents. She could speak a little Italian but other than her last name, there was nothing Italian about her. Doug briefly introduced the members of Måneskin to Diana, who couldn’t keep her eyes off a certain member. To be quite honest she had not remembered everyone’s names and she stumbled to get her name out of her mouth. All because she was already head over heels with this handsome, tall, young Italian man.

After a couple of introduction, Diana was finally behind her bar, her safe space. Meeting Damiano had made her weak in her knees, she had never had a reaction like this before. She didn’t really pay attention to the competitors and focused on serving the people but when it was Måneskin’s turn, she started to lose focus on her work.

During most of their setlist, Damiano kept glancing over to Diana and winking at her. Or at least that’s what it felt like for Diana. However, after a rather sexy song (let’s be real most of them are) he kissed one of his male bandmates on the mouth. Now Diana is not one to judge people on who they love. She reasons that everyone should love who they want to love and receive love because of it. It wasn’t that she hated it, it kind of turned her on, but she was very confused. Had she read the signs wrong? Were there even any signs to begin with? At times like these she wanted to ask Tami for help yet she was afraid that if Tami came and tried to help her that somehow Tami’s charm would work on Damiano and Diana would still end up with nothing. No, she had to do this on her own, she decided.

After the battle of the bands was over, a few stayed behind to talk with record labels about future arrangements. Diana started cleaning up, and washing and drying a few glasses, secretly listening in on a few conversations.

“I liked what I saw out there. Let your agent call me and we will discuss your expansion in the United States.” Well, that sounded very good. Diana turned around to see who the band was that this man was talking to, but when she turned around she looked right into Damiano’s eyes.

“I have been trying to get your attention all night”, he says shyly. “Really? I thought so but I wasn’t sure”, Diana responds. Damiano raises his hand and scratches behind his head. “I was wondering, you know. If maybe- ugh. Perchè è cosi difficile?” He mutters, not looking Diana in the eyes. “Provalo in Italiano?” she suggests and Damiano’s eyes shoot up to meet hers. “Cazzo. Parli Italiano?” He looks even more nervous now. “Si, parlo Italiano.” He laughs at her answer. “Vuoi uscire domani sera?” Diana nods her head, she honestly cannot stop smiling. “I’d love to go out with you. Do you want me to pick you up at the hotel? That would be easier than you trying to find my house.” “Yeah, sure. We’re staying at the Millwood Motel, it’s not too far from the airport.” “Ah yes, I know that place. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He leans over and kisses her cheek before leaving her to finish her work.

That night Diana barely slept. Did Damiano know any places here to take her to? Did she have to come up with a place? What if he was some weird guy? What if he was a murderer?! She sure was happy now that she didn’t give him her address. The following day she woke up around noon. She went to the kitchen and grabbed her Cona coffee maker, if she was to get through the day, she was going to need a big cup of coffee. She put water and coffee ground on the lower half of the pot and put it on the stove. She hated having to watch the coffee boil and couldn’t wait for better times when you would just have to push a button to get your coffee.

Seeing that she woke up around noon, it didn’t take long before Diana met up with Damiano. She asked him if he had anything specific in mind. Surprisingly, he did. He explained that he and his bandmates did a little sightseeing and they walked past a roller skating rink. Damiano always wanted to try that and he thought this would be perfect for their little date. Diana absolutely loved the idea and couldn’t wait till they got there.

Both of them were sad that the night had ended so quickly or so they thought. It was in fact 1 a.m. and they had already spend ten hours together. Diana brought Damiano back to the motel with her car and of course he couldn’t leave without planting a kiss on her lips. They kissed for a while before finally letting each other go. “We’ll be leaving soon”, Damiano said and looked at their intertwined hands in his lap. “Already? You just got here two days ago”, Diana complained. She just met him and now he is leaving already? She wasn’t prepared for that. She knew he was leaving at some point, he had to he didn’t live in the US, but still she had hoped for a little more time together. “Maybe we’ll come back soon. We have a meeting with our agent and that record label guy tomorrow.” “Could we meet up after? We should catch dinner together, I have another day off”, she suggested. Damiano agreed, kissed her one more time before leaving her car and making his way to his motel room.

The next day

Diana waited for Damiano in front of a large building. She was enjoying the sun on her face when she felt two arms coming from behind and hugging her on her stomach. “Ciao, amore mio. Sei adorabile oggi”, Damiano said into her ear before kissing the side of her face. “Ciao, you don’t look to bad yourself”, she said as she turned around. She grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him on his lips, his mates cheering them on in the background. “How did it go in there?” With that question Damiano’s face broke out in a wide grin. “What?” “Amore, we’re staying here in the US. We got a record deal, we will be here for the entire year!” he shouts and all five of them jump in celebration. “I was going to tell you at dinner, but I just couldn’t wait anymore. We can be together, amore.” Diana broke out in tears, nodding her head, for she had never met a man who she loved more than Damiano. Her Italian lover boy.

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