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#I always have much more inspiration for the dark sides
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Sins Of The Father, Fuck The Daughter - Lewis Hamilton
Switching Team pt 3
Dark fic 18+ - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS
Warnings/themes: Age gap, smut , coercion, manipulation, corruption/innocence kinks, gaslighting, parental intervention, baby trapping, revenge
@omgsuperstarg is being massively credited bc she has helped inspire so many ideas w this series so have to give a shout out.
One more part after this and then we're calling it on the series.
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Another race weekend. Another endless train of clips seeing his very recently wrecked daughter dripping in red.
The whole world has noted that y/n always seems to have swollen lips, from whatever activity herself and Lewis were enjoying before arriving. Her red dresses practically uniform and this week came with an addition of all red Louboutins and a gust of wind did give some of the paddock a peak at what is better described as red string under her dress rather than anything that could be described as underwear
The media has tried it's best not to dwell too much on the matter but the transformation of the quiet and shy girl who seem to definite the innocence of wearing white has now been touched by Lewis and seems to be transformed. Hardly recognisable as the same person.
"Toto, we know that you have seemed to have lost two people to supporting red. How are you feeling about y/n's new relationship?" The reporter asks with a smile jumping at the opportunity to get Toto's opinion since everyone knows of his and Lewis' feud.
"I think I will have to console my daughter when she comes to her senses and sees Lewis is only corrupting her to hurt me. Which I think is quite poor form from someone like Lewis. Perhaps Fred can get his driver under control." Toto states making somewhat of a joke at the end, though even picks up on the tone and suggestion behind it.
"Fred?"
"I imagine Toto has more control over his daughter than I do over Lewis. It is my job to handle my drivers as drivers, not to monitor their personal lives." Fred shrugs earning a slight glare from the Mercedes team principal. "We are here to race."
"You should try reminding your driver of that when he's flaunting my daughter around like a possession." Toto grumbles earning a very obvious side eye from the Frenchman.
-
Y/n feels Lewis' hand clap over her mouth as his other hand pushes down on her stomach, forcing the bulge almost up into her other organs with the sensation of pain merging with pleasure and earning a muffled but still audible moan as she milks ever drop of cum from him.
Lewis has decided that he won't be fully satisfied about having successfully taken y/n from Toto until she's got his child. Though he might have to ease up on bruising her insides at that point, he's almost certain her tummy does actually have a small bruise from his dick.
Seeing her in all red actually brings out some primary instinct to fuck her till she's walking like the memory of his dick being in her is permanently there.
He'd had a conversation with Fred and then he saw the press conference and he decided that if Toto was so eager to see his daughter then he'd see it be done.
"That's a lot." Y/n mumbles commenting on the feeling of his cum flood out of her. "You want me to not wipe it?"
"No. We're going to see your dad."
"I really don't want to." Y/n mumbles then wincing when two fingers press into her before he removes them and raises his fingers to her races.
"Clean up." Lewis instructs making her look as his other hand squeezes her thigh in warning.
Y/n swallows before holding his hand to put his fingers in her mouth licking his fingers clean of the salty cum.
"Come on. We're going to see your dad and Susie."
"But-"
"Y/n." Lewis cuts in his short temper being a result of Toto's comments and the hurt expression on y/n's face makes him realise that he maybe needs to remember that she might be his daughter but she's an innocent in this matter. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but we don't have time and you know I like-"
"I know. But I don't even want to speak to my dad...I don't understand why you're pushing for it." Y/n mumbles with a pout.
"Because he wants to see you and he's blaming me stopping you as the reason why you won't." Lewis states earning a small nod. "You don't have to speak to him for long."
"Can't you just do the talking?" Y/n sighs earning a small smile of amusement.
"You have to say something, but I'll talk to him as well." Lewis assures her while helping her stand up. "Good?"
"Yeah."
They walk through the paddock moving to the Mercedes unit where Toto is actually sitting outside with Susie and Jack.
Despite their relation, Jack doesn't know much of his sister. By the time he came alone she'd long since been left in isolation and the two are anything but close.
"Why don't you go find George, Jack?" Susie asks, not wanting to leave but also not feeling Jack should be involved in the conversation. Thankfully he rushes off eager to speak to George since he admires the lanky Brit a lot.
"Y/n, how have you been?" Toto asks as Lewis pulls out a chair for her and tucks it in. "I didn't know you had such a love for the colour red."
"Toto." Susie scolds as Lewis sits down looking fairly smug.
"I'm here because Lewis asked it of me, if you intend to be disrespectful we can leave." Y/n states crossing her arms and frowning at him. "I didn't ask for this you know."
"Well if Lewis would stop using you-"
"Enough, Toto." Susie cuts in sharply.
Y/n swallows since Susie has always defended her but it's complicated between them.
"Lewis, whether your intentions were motivated by revenge on Toto or genuine feelings for y/n. You clearly have made her happy and that is what is important." Susie smiles looking at y/n. "Are you happy?"
"Yes."
"Then that's all that matters." Susie assures her then linking her hand with Toto's. "Your dad won't be making anymore public comments about it."
Toto makes no verbal confirmation, too busy trying to stare Lewis down but the driver is unwavering.
"I'm glad we all had this talk, it's been important. Y/n and I have to go, things to do. Come on, y/n."
The two leave though Toto and Susie both notice the bodily fluid that's now leaked low enough to be visible and if you glimpse you'll spot it.
"He is doing it on purpose. He is trying to provoke a reaction-Susie, you cannot expect him to allow this." Toto hisses to his wife. "He treats her like property and with no respect. How can you be ok with it?"
"Y/n is an adult. We have to let her make her own mistakes to learn her own consequences." Susie sighs then smiling at him. "We can only hope the consequences don't come in a form that she regrets in the long term."
-
Y/n watches Lewis talking to his engineers, ready to get the car out onto the grid.
There's been an off feeling since her and Lewis left that very short and uncomfortable meeting with her parents. She appreciates Susie's efforts but it's fairly obvious where Toto's feelings lie and she didn't miss that Lewis was purposely sitting like the cat who got the cream. Quite literally.
"Y/n, good luck kiss?" Lewis smiles catching her attention and earning a smile. "Are you ok?"
"Yeah, just thinking about earlier. It's...fine."
"Hey...don't let them ruin a good day. You look gorgeous, the race is going to be good and I want to see you afterwards with that gorgeous smile. All for me."
Y/n actually does genuinely smile over his words and when he leans in for a kiss it's fairly obvious his goal of perking her up was very successful. Something they're both very grateful for.
Watching the race y/n is so focused on Lewis she doesn't actually notice the cars around him, not till George appears and looks like he's trying to be the next torpedo driver as he tries a dive bomb and just completely smacks into Lewis, ripping through the right side of red sidepod and wrecking the floor.
"What the fuck?" Y/n whispers standing up as collective groans and yells of outrage shout through the garage.
That's race ending damage even if he wanted to continue.
They call for him to come in and he's pulled into the garage after trying to see if there's any chance of the car continuing but as suspected it's done for.
Lewis gets out being weighed before he takes a moment then sighs moving to his engineer. They spend a while watching replays, onboard, looking from different angles and he even moves back to the care talking to the mechanics as they inspect the damage which is severe.
"Are you ok?" Y/n mumbles making him look at her as he places his helmet down.
"You're never talking to your dad again." Lewis states earning a slightly shocked expression. It's one thing for her to be angry at.
Now George truly could've pulled that move of his own decision, he's the exact type of driver who would. Like an idiot. He got off lucky doing it.
"Y/n, I mean it." Lewis grumbles as a PR assistant appears telling him they need to get him to media. "I'll see you in the unit."
He then goes and spend the next half hour absolutely rinsing George calling him Toto's runner boy and directly making the accusation that the move was a matter of George being told to target Lewis and do anything to ruin is race. All because he's dating y/n.
-
Lewis made it clear.
He also used her as a bit of a cushion for frustration, she woke up this morning and decided she wouldn't be getting out of bed, although he did apologise for the sex that was about as rough as it's ever been. It's not as if she didn't enjoy herself. But the man certainly knows how to leave her feeling the effects of his dick the following day.
Luckily her is more than happy to do everything for her, he kisses her constantly and just holds her in cuddles, orders room service, gives her all his attention.
"You're the best thing in my life, you know that?" Lewis whispers gently pushing her hair back.
"You're the best thing in my life too."
"So...as an apology for the weekend-"
"You don't have to apologise." Y/n states quickly than moving over to straddle him. "I always love having sex with you."
"Do you?"
"Are you really going to make me prove it?" Y/n laughs earning a quick chuckle.
"No. You are in a rest day. Same as me. I think we're both owed it."
"Lewis...did it hurt?"
She knows that any impact in an F1 car can make the body ache but she really wants to know that Lewis is ok.
"It always hurts a little. But that one wasn't the worst." Lewis smiles then pulling her down to kiss her lightly. "You're sweet to ask, baby."
"Well so long as we can cuddle for the rest of the day, I think we're both resting enough."
"Agreed."
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rationalisms · 3 days
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could you recommend an indie game that does disco elysium or its kind of game better? (/genuine)
i'd be happy to recommend some games to you for sure!
but i would like to preface this by saying that my point (which is hard to explain in a pithy tag aside to be fair lol) isn't necessarily that these will be "better" than disco elysium. that's incredibly hard to quantify anyway since so much of this is based on taste. e.g. i disliked some things about DE other people loved (like the pacing) even though i overall had a good time with the game.
it's more that the way people were talking about disco elysium, especially in terms of like... "professional video game journalism" but also definitely on this site and the other formerly blue side, was tinged with this tone that DE is somehow unique or groundbreaking in its attempt to treat a video game like an artform or a serious vehicle for storytelling. which is insulting especially to the games DE clearly draws from.
a lot of people who don't usually play video games played DE based on recommendations, which is great! but a huge part of the response from those people didn't seem to be "wow, clearly i can have a good time with video games if they're like this, i should seek out more". it instead seemed to be "well folks, pack it up, this is the one video game i will enjoy because it's Deep unlike everything else out there". which is incredibly disappointing.
anyway. whether these recommendations will hit for you will primarily depend on what you're looking for when you say "its kind of game", but here's some games that gave me the same general feeling.
planescape: torment is the game that heavily inspired disco elysium. it's a similarly combat-light crpg with a focus on exploration and story and set in a weird, technologically discongruent setting. i would also recommend its sequel, torment: tides of numenera. i didn't enjoy that one as much but it was still pretty good.
kentucky road zero is a game about a truck driver who has to cross the titular road zero and the many people he meets on the way. it's also magical realism so if you enjoyed the genre of disco elysium this might be up your alley.
beautiful desolation is another game which is based on real world culture/history with sci-fi world building on top. in this case south africa. it's really beautiful and rewards exploration in a similar way.
return of the obra dinn is also an atmospheric detective game set on a ship lost in 1803. it's by the same creator who made papers, please (which is also excellent by the way).
hypnospace outlaw has a similar half absurd, half earnest tone. it also felt similarly nostalgic to me. it's incredibly easy to sink a lot of time into this one though so watch out lol.
orwell, and its sequel, orwell: ignorance is strength, are similar "internet" simulators like HO with a much more overt political tone (if you couldn't tell by the name lol). you play as an employee for a government surveillance program.
stasis if you're looking for more isometric point and click games with a strong atmosphere and great voice acting.
sunless sea, and its sequel, sunless skies, are exploration/roguelike games about a weird, fantastical world. if you've ever played fallen london, they're set in the same universe.
what remains of edith finch is also magical realism and dark comedy, so if you enjoyed the tone of DE you might enjoy that.
some say it has always been here also has a surreal and sometimes oppressive atmosphere. i wish this game was longer, i loved it so much.
i miss the sea of japan is another wonderful bitsy game i got reminded of when i thought about SSIHABH. it's wistful and sweet.
i have no mouth and i must scream is a psychological thriller about five people and their dark pasts trying to outwit an AI. it's very atmospheric and also has variously fucked up (by life) protagonists.
whispers of a machine is another detective game with more of a sci-fi slant, though it's set in a world inspired by sweden and other nordic countries. it's also very atmospheric and has some great voice acting.
buddy simulator 1984 gave me a lot of the same feelings disco elysium did (wistfulness, nostalgia, anxiety, etc lol). i really loved the first half of the game but wasn't as into the second half, would absolutely still recommend it though.
and if we're talking just straight up great crpgs with a heavily political tone, i will always always always recommend harebrained schemes shadowrun trilogy (especially dragonfall and hong kong, both incredible games. returns is... fine lol but definitely not on the level of the sequels) and fallout 1 and 2.
plus, no rec list about magical realism would be complete without life is strange. :') i haven't played any of the sequels and it's been a long time since i played it, but i remember loving it at the time.
games i haven't played yet but that are on my to play list and which look like they could scratch the same itch:
citizen sleeper, also a dice based game which is very narrative and exploration based.
norco, which several of my friends love a lot.
where the water tastes like wine, which is set in the great depression era of the US and about collecting stories and sharing them.
pentiment, another detective game set in a real world approximation. i love everything obsidian touches so i'm sure it's great, but i haven't gotten round to it yet.
night in the woods seems to be popular with people who like DE so it might be up your alley. i'm pretty sure it's also magical realism?
roadwarden is another isometric point and click game about exploration and friends have said it has a great atmosphere.
i hope those are a good starting point for you! i would also genuinely recommend just hopping on itch.io and typing in a random prompt and seeing what you get. i've discovered sooo many wonderful games (many of them completely free, though i will always advocate for tipping the creators) by just noodling around on there. tons and tons of incredible indie games who don't have the luxury of publisher funding made by people who could really use the support.
enjoy and have a lovely day ^__^
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mrs-snape5984 · 19 hours
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„You’re not alone, together we stand. I’ll be by your side, you know, I’ll take your hand…”
“Just stay strong, ‘cause you know, I’m here for you…” (“Keep holding on” by Avril Lavigne)
I decided to set a trigger warning on this post: Miscarriages, high risk pregnancies, ICSI treatments, traumatic wish for a child journey, hysterectomy. So, please feel free to skip the following x paragraphs, if you feel triggered by these topics. Thank you.
Those of you lovely people of Snapedom, who know me and my way of blogging about Severus and my personal hardships might have noticed, that I’m mostly venting about ME/CFS and the crumbs, which are left from my former life. Since I can’t do much about it right now, I decided to “fix” another one of my countless issues…an internal wound, which desperately needs to heal!
As some of you might remember, I’m a mother of three wonderful children. There are my eleven years old twins and then there’s my six years old daughter. My pregnancies were the result of a long and painful journey of ICSI treatments, several miscarriages, way too many tears, about ten surgeries - due to Endometriosis and myomas - which eventually ended in a hysterectomy four years ago.
My desperate wish for a child led me to some decisions and life choices, which I probably wouldn’t have made, if I would have been clearer…maybe more stable in my whole mindset. One of these choices was a totally over rushed marriage to a narcissistic man, who made me believe, that he wanted the same. Gosh…I’ve been so desperate and so fucking stupid! Well, at least I got my twins because of him.
I went to the appointment for the transfer of the embryos on my own. He didn’t want to join the procedure…and I should have known, that he was already saying “goodbye” back then.
The pregnancy was rough. I had to lie in bed from the 8th week of pregnancy until they were born as premature babies in the 29th week of pregnancy. The last 4,5 months of pregnancy, I had to stay in the hospital…fighting for my babies’ lives all on my own. The father of them had decided, that he didn’t want to be a father anymore…wow…
I don’t want to go further into details about this phase of my life…at least not yet. I commissioned my friend @alinearthp for this project and asked her for several drawings of the different phases of my journey to become a mother. This artwork will be the start of my healing process…and I’m incredibly grateful, that you’re doing this for me, Aline! I know, that you’ll need time to draw all these wishes of mine, but I’ll be patiently waiting for each of your breathtaking pieces of art, my dear!
So, for the next couple of months, Severus will accompany me on my path through this phase of my past…just like he did back then, when I spent months in a hospital bed in “Trendelenburg” position. During this period of my life - and to be honest, in so many other phases of the past 21 years, as well - I clung to my imagination of Severus in order to feel less helpless and alone. His resilience and determination have always been my inspiration to keep going through all these hardships, which life kept throwing at me. He’s the love of my life…and he will forever be the guiding light in my darkness.
🖤Severus & Julia🖤
🖤Sevy & Jules🖤
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aphroditesmoon · 4 months
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wish you'd ask me
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clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader
summary: you're not good at reading subtle hints, clarisse realises that maybe she should've been more upfront with her feelings for you.
warnings: fluff, oblivious!reader, clarisse is down bad, reader is very neurodivergent coded, kissing, flirting, title n fic inspired by 'Wish You'd Ask Me' by Matt Maltese.
A/N: thank you for 1.9k followers!! I love you all dearly, my ask box and dms r always open, im glad that my writing is being enjoyed by so many people<3
wc: 4.5k
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You have been in camp half blood for more than 4 years. You have made yourself at home for the last several years. 
It was easy to view yourself as lesser or inadequate in comparison to other mortals during your days in the real world before you were sent to camp. The world has never failed to remind you of how different you were. Always too much or not good enough, always special and never normal
And it wasn't like you were dying for some sort of diagnosis to justify why you are the way you are, but upon discovering that you were actually a demigod, it felt like all the questions you've been harboring to yourself was finally answering themselves. 
Everything clicked. Everything made sense, though at the same time, it felt impossible. You were a very confused little girl when you first arrived at camp. A girl who just wanted someone to tell them that it'll all be alright in the end.
And you still remembered the first person to hold you by your shoulders and made you look into their eyes as they told you that it was all going to be okay.
The girl with beautiful long curls and dark piercing eyes. The girl that everyone else, apparently, was afraid of.
But you could never be afraid of Clarisse La Rue. 
Not with the way she smiles when every time she sees you, the way she never fails to make you feel included even in activities you're not capable of participating in. Not with the way your whole body electrifies every time your skin touches, when your hands brush against each other. 
It didn't matter what anyone think, because no one could change the perception you've built of her. Clarisse La Rue is good. Or at least she is to you.
When you first heard of the rumours surrounding her, you did think better than to force a friendship on her. You strayed away from her and stuck to your cabin siblings and your books, but you noticed daily how she'd still go out of her way to talk to you at least once a day.
It didn't need to be a long conversation, just a passing acknowledgement. An easygoing 'hey, how've you been doing.' Sometimes she'd even go as far as cracking a joke with you.
With how serious her face is whenever she make the jokes, you'd have to think twice as hard and thrice as faster than another person to try and guess if she was being genuine or not so you could fit in a necessary laugh when you needed to.
Even as her anger became more apparent because of the new kid's accidental climb to fame and embarrassing the Ares' cabin, she still found time to make a conversation with you.
It had been long since you tried to ignore or avoid her. You learned that her attention towards you is harmless, and that she seemed much more comfortable telling you certain things compared to others. If she has been viewing you as some sort of safe box, then you don't really mind it. You liked listening to her talk and keeping her heart's intent as your secret.
You too, talking to her. To some people, you are reserved,  
and to others, talkative. Either way, people find it easy to discard you at any moment they decide you are irritating.
But Clarisse listens. And she asks questions, she's patient- much patient that anyone could anticipate or guess. 
It may be hard for others to believe, but Clarisse is more complex than she seems. She had the capacity to be gentle, and she had the capacity to respect boundaries. The more time you spent with her, the more that side becomes easy for you to access.
Today, however,  marks a new record for your friendship with her. A few weeks ago, she had informed you of her newfound interest in the history of folklore monsters. What a coincidence that you were currently self-studying on that specific topic.
She insisted that you hook her in on whatever it is you're learning. She had even gotten you a doughnut to eat together outside the library as you told her of your insights of dragons and their theorized blindness and incapability to differentiate a variety of prey.
The conversation went well, she seemed immensely in awe of your knowledge and had no problem telling you how she felt. 
You even gave her some book recommendations, though you knew she wasn't much of a reader.
You felt a shift in your relationship that night and had spent the next three days studying more and more about the topic. And today, you had asked her to spend the evening with you. 
You shouldn't feel so nervous asking her to hang out. That is what friends do, after all.
She found you in the library, sitting on the floor in between two large bookshelves. She had been right on time and enthusiastically so. The two of you sat together, hidden by the shelves as some semblance of privacy. 
Clarisse looked confused when you had explained that you indeed wanted to spend the rest of the day in the library, but she accompanied you anyways.
You could never get sick of the smell of the books. Old and new, they all have some nostalgic past tied in between the pages, begging to be discovered. 
You had your back on the walls with tinted windows above your head as she's seated opposite of you in a criss-crossed position.
Today, the library isn't as packed as usual. There were still people walking in and out and checking out the books on the counter, but not too many that it became obnoxiously loud and annoying. 
After finishing another book of Monsters and how to spot them, you're feeling knowledgeable enough to explain the lore of the Giants to Clarisse, she had asked you about this the other day, giants have been long extinct to the point that some might even say they may have never even existed. And so you were interested in sharing with her all of the information you have learned about the majestic species of a beast.
You started with the general information. The basic understanding of what a Giant is the mythhs of Giants and the validity of those sources. Clarisse listened closely in the beginning, never interrupting you unless she had an actual question.
She seemed in awe of the stories you tell her of. You don't blame her, for you yourself have been most interested in the topic of Giants.
You were an hour an a half in when noticed her attention faltering. She leaned against the cases of books, her eyes twitched slightly when you began to explain the different types of giants, and the difference of how they operate.
Her hands are folded together on her lap, and you can feel her listening in on everything you're telling her as she adds in some commentary here and there, but you also felt that she wasn't entirely in on the conversation.
The dim lights of the library made the atmosphere feel warm and secluded, even with its vast space and many other campers hanging around in the other tables and shelves. You made sure to keep your voice low as you spoke in fear of the librarian kicking you out. 
You had a good reputation with the library workers, they liked how organized and polite you were. 
"A lot of people think their greatest strength is their size, which is valid, they are huge, but their real weapon is their mouth." You told Clarisse, ignoring the litter of books by your left that you had brought over for reference.
"They kiss you to death?" She asks suspiciously. You laughed shortly and shook your head. "No, I mean their breath."
She responds with an 'ohh.' 
"They're giants, so their mouth is large too, and you can easily tell what they had for breakfast even from their tall height. Their breaths are also known to be so rancid it could kill you, because they don't exactly eat what we eat." 
She raises a brow as she stretches her hands upwards. "Isn't that ogres?" 
"It's both." You confirmed.
You were about to continue your explanation but halted by instinct as you notice how her mouth keeps pursing together as if unsatisfied, and she has that look on her face that mimicked a confused expression. You're don't think there's anything to be confused of.
"Are you okay?" You asked her worriedly. Clarisse sits up straighter at the question and waved a hand off to assure you she's fine. "Of course, no yeah- I'm fine."
"You seem bored, you're not really interested in what I'm saying are you?” She opens her mouth to counter your words but hesitates to say anything. 
"I- well, I like giants-" She attempts, "-no you don't. " 
"No. I don't." She admits with a sigh. "But I thought you said you were interested in these kind of stuff?" You questioned her. "Well, yeah, like the general idea of it. I mean, I don't hate it, and I like hearing you talk about it." She answers with a shrug.
"Then why do you look disappointed? If you didn't want to come, you could've just told me. I wouldn't get mad." You told her honestly. It was conflicting for you to see her so confused on what to say, being so picky with the words she chooses.
You figured she's probably reluctant to hurt your feelings. That is a notion you're used to. You'd rather she tell you the truth to your face than to be catered around like a time ticking bomb that everyone's so afraid might explode at any time. 
"When you asked me out yesterday, you told me this would be an 'evening to remember." She tells you with such confidence like it was an explanation to her weird behaviour today.
"You don't think this is an evening to remember?" You sincerely inquire.
"No, I do! I just- well, when you said that I didn't think you'd mean we'd be doing this." Your frown deepens as you try to figure out what she means, eyeing her body language closely. “What do you mean? I told you I wanted to hang out.” 
A part of you is offended. She was the one who had said she liked hearing you speak, why would she be disappointed that this was your idea of spending time together?
"I don't know, I thought we'd just be doing...something else?"
It didn't matter what she had really meant with that. You felt completely embarrassed once she finished her sentence. Why was it that everyone else had no problem having long conversations with their friends, but when it came to you, it's all too awkward, unnecessary, and odd? 
You liked Clarisse, you considered her your friend. Sometimes you wonder if it could ever be more, but you never entertain those thoughts because you don't want to ruin what the two of you already have. 
But moments like these resemble a huge slap in the face by the universe.
You couldn't even be good friends with her, how ridiculous of you to think that there could ever be something more.
"Okay, um, maybe we should just go back to our cabin." You decided whilst standing up and picking up the stack of books you're currently borrowing from the library, ready to leave the place without waiting for her.
"Hey, wait." She called out as you walked past her. You spared her a glance, trying your best not to show how upset you are.  “We're friends." She says it so much like a question that you weren't sure if she's even sure of the fact herself until she continued speaking. "I like hanging out with you."
Another thing that you weren't sure if she really meant. "Sure." You replied thinking it's the most suitable response. 
Before she could say anything else, you turned around and started picking up your pace until you disappeared out of her sight.
You have been consistently ignoring Clarisse. Which proved to be harder than expected.
When you pass by her camp or the training ground, you make a mental note to always look down or to your front as to never accidentally cross eyes with her.
And everytime you hear her call out your name, you keep walking like you didn't even hear her, knowing that she wouldn't be bold enough to call for you again. After all, she still had a reputation to uphold.
If ignoring her wasn't hard enough, having to deal with how you felt for her is worse.
You've been avoiding confrontation with yourself for weeks even before you decided to go no contact with her.
And so far, you thought you've been handling it pretty well. Except for days where you don't see her where she's expected to be. You tell yourself that you don't care as you make your way to training in the day and reading in the evening, and yet you still go back on your own words when you asked a passerby Ares kid on where his cabin leader was.
"She's dunking some kid's head into a toilet bowl." Of course she was.
You thanked the dude and went back on your way to your cabin. It's close to dusk, the sky is turning orange and the sun is dipping itself below the earth. You take your time returning to your cabin as you enjoy the way the sun slowly removes itself from anyone's viewing.
You wondered to yourself if things like these are what makes you weird or off-putting to some people.
Was enjoying nature and having niche interests only cute when it's done by girls pretty enough to be cool or if it's only in romance movies or books.
You don't find yourself weird, in fact you think all of your hobbies are pretty common and usual, and yet the way Clarisse had spoken to you at the library last week had made you feel unnatural.
You had wanted to do normal people things with her, but maybe your perception of normal is different to her.
Either way, you are pretty hurt with how she reacted. You loved her still, of course. It's kind of hard to unlike the girl you've been obsessed with since you were 15.
Once you finally reach your cabin, you quickly put down all of your books and your tiny sling back by the side before making it to the shower to refresh yourself before dinner.
You thought it hilarious of how hard you're trying not to care about Clarisse, and yet as you're cleaning yourself up, changing your clothes and attempting to read at least 15 pages of your World's Most Dangerous Beasts book, you could only think of her.
What would it take for her to think that you're cool, what kind of things did she want to do instead of listening to you yap around for 2 hours on what is an equivalent of a boring dinosaur facts, not that you really think dinosaurs are boring.
During dinner, you kept to siblings and had to make yourself finish your plate as your anxiety wrecking thoughts have a way of deriving you of an appetite. You also had to convince yourself to not search for her at the other tables which took more strength than one would expect.
But you succeeded, and you were now sure that the only obstacle left for the day was to try and fall asleep without the thoughts of her keeping you up.
Clarisse is a force, a fierce daughter of Ares, and a cabin leader who had much better things to do then hole up at quiet small places with you.
And just because she was nice enough to mantain a good relationship with you for 4 years, does not mean that you're worth her time. Or at least that's what you tell yourself.
That night, you managed to fall asleep after an hour of recalling Harpy facts in repetition. Counting sheeps had never worked on you, so you had to find something much more active to tire out your brain.
You dreamed of Clarisse with her hair down, holding your hand and pulling you closer so she could slip a flower on your ear.
And just as she's looking down at you, moving closer to do what it seemed like to kiss you, you awoke with a jolt, swearing under your breath as if you'd just gotten jumpscared by a ghost.
Someone's palms moved to shut your lips as you're met with a girl, hovering over you in the dark. Clarisse's dark eyes were recognizable, but it sent a shot of adrenaline through your body still.
"Shh." She whispered to your face, hand still keeping your mouth shut. "I'm going to remove my hands now." She whispered again. You nod in understanding and waited for her to pry her hand away from your face.
"What are you doing here?!" You exclaimed as quiet as possible as she helped you sit up.
"I'm sneaking you out." She answers with a wink. "It's 2 in the morning." You waved your hand around at the darkness and sleeping children. "3 in the morning, and yeah, I know. That's why it's called sneaking around." She corrects you with a grin so devilish that if you hadn't known her for a long time, you'd assume she's about to turn you into a new toilet bowl or dumpster boxing victim.
You sighed loudly and glared at her despite your fast beating heart. Her hand remained on top of yours until the minute becomes more awkward and she removes it as if she just remembered that she's been holding your hand.
Without explanation,  she climbed out of your bed and tiptoes to the open cabin door. You're still sitting up and looking at her with conflicted feelings.
Only after she turns back to you, cocking her head towards the entrance, do you give into her request and softly leave the comfort of your bed and trail after her.
"Where are we going?" You asked after her as she kept walking. Instead of responding, she asks you another question back, "Can you swim?"
"We're going swimming?" You watch her shrug in return from behind her and became even more distressed.
"So, is this your idea of having fun and hanging out then?" She laughs drily and slowed down so you could catch up. You walked fast enough until you're beside her and waited for her to talk. "You sound surprised, I would've thought that after 4 years of friendship, you'd know by now that I love doing things that includes active movements."
You did know that, it's a bit hard to not notice how much working out, training and running fuels her even more.
"And why are we doing it in the middle of the night?" The walk towards the lake by the back of the forest was short, considering that your cabin is the closest to the location.
You almost tripped and fell over a stick, but Clarisse was quick to scoop you back up by the back of your shirt. "Thanks." You mumbled to her. "And you haven't answered my question."
Clarisse pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it on the ground without caring of your presence. You, having more moral obligations than her, twisted your face to your left when she began to pull her trousers off. "Too many people in broad daylight." She tells you.
That is a valid reason, this lake is mostly known as a hook up spot, and true to it's cause, many dating campers have been caught together here during dawn or late evenings.
You braved yourself to turn towards her again slowly and realised that she had already hopped into the water. She had a sports bra on and a boxer.
And though you yourself had a tank top and shorts on, you contemplate the idea of suicide as a better choice than having to strip in front of her.
"Are you gonna get in, or are you just gonna gawk at me from there?" You were grateful for the dark being able to hide your flushed face from her, but deep down, you knew that she probably saw it anyways because of the shining bright moonlight.
"I can't swim." You told her.
"That's fine, the water's not very deep." You ransacked your brain for reasons to decline her offer, but at the same time, a small part of you yearned to take this risk that you've been so afraid of for gods knows whatever reason.
Clarisse is there, in the water and under the moonlight. You are only a few steps away from her. And like she said, the water isn't deep, only waist length. She stares back at you with a raised brow like she's challenging you to join her.
"Turn around first." You tell her. She smirked slightly before slowly spinning to the opposite direction. "You know I've seen you naked before right?"
"What?" You choked out, aghast. "Who do you think changed your clothes for you when you first got to camp." Oh, that.
Your shoulder relaxes as you realize she's talking about the first time you met. "That's was a long time ago." You noted. She hummed im agreement. "Yeah, we've both grown since."
You told her she could turn around once you're inside the water. Forgetting about the heighy difference between you two, the water was high enough to reach your chest, trying your best not to trip underwater the way you always do on dry ground, your hand instinctively reached outnfor her shoulder.
Clarisse held your forearm tightly and drew your closer to her until you're inches away from eachother.
You breathed in sharply and felt the need to fill in the awkward silence. "So, you...like swimming, huh?"
"Yes, evidently so." She answered. "Right right, can't sit still and all that." She actually chuckled at your sarcasm, making you proud of yourself.
"You know, even before I came to camp Half Blood, I use to be a pretty active person, running track, volleyball, sometimes swimming." Your eyes widened in curiosity. "Really?" She nodded.
"The counselor told my mom that I just had so many untapped energy, which I guess is a code for anger issues." Her grip on your forearm moves higher until her palm is over your shoulder.  "She told her that it'd be best for me to find a...healthy way, to channel that energy, and for my strong competitiveness. So I joined what I could, and that's how I spent most of my free time there. Besides, I never was that good academically. So, I ought to at least be good at something, right?"
"You are good." You blurted out. Your embarrassment faded away when you saw her smile. "You think so?"
"Yeah." You assured her. Her other hand had snaked around your waist without you noticing. Only when you moved slightly do you notice her holding you softly.
"The moon is really nice tonight, isn't it?" You said, trying to diffuse the tension. You pointed your finger up to the sky at the singular white orb.
She glanced up and let out a 'huh.'
"I like it when it's bright and whole like this, the moon in all of its glory. You don't even notice the starts around it when it's glowing like that." You could stare at the moom forever, even longer than the way you've been staring at the sun.
You believed in it the way children do with their birthday candle. To you, the moon has always been a symbol of hope or comfort for your future. Your fascination for it existed from when you were a child, the way it'd follow you from behind as you gazed upon it from the back of the car seat whilst your parent drove down the road.
The way it moved above you as you walked home from school, like one of the gods themselves watching over you.
"Nothing compares to the moon." You announced aloud, watching as the clouds around it began to gather over it. "Yeah, It's beautiful." You hear Clarisse speak.
As your head snapped back to her, you found that she had already been facing you.
"I like the moon...but not as much as I like you." She whispered loud enough for your ears only. Her face leans closer to yours, your noses brushing together. "Not as much as I like to hear your voice, when you tell me about your little harpy facts-"
"Oh, I haven't told you about the harpies yet." You cut her off. "I just finished that chapter this morning actually and-"
"-and, you can tell me about it after I'm done talking." You blushed and became silent, letting her speak.
Clarisse exhaled breathily, fanning your face with the subtle warm air. "I like doing things that friends do with you, but I don't want to be your friend anymore."
"Oh."
"I want to be more than friends." She elaborated.
"Oh." Oh.
You feel a sudden tightness in your chest, from anxiety or from butterflies is undecided. "You want to be best friends?" You joked, laughing nervously.
Clarisse snorted at your joke, but she was still grinning widely. "Best friends, If that's what you want to call it."
There was a moment of understanding shared between a second of shared gazes before her lips attached themselves to yours. An urgency, approval, meaning that can't be described by words.
Whatever gentleness there was inside of her before had vanished. Clarisse kissed you like a starved woman. Her lips craved yours like it'd be the last time she'll ever know how you taste like.
Your hands clasped on her shoulder and neck for support as she embraced you tighter to her body. You let her tongue slip into your mouth, meeting your own.
And as they danced together, inhaling all there is in your lips, every secret and every confession that have died on the tip ofnyour tongues, you are sure that no heaven nor hell could tear you open to see you back together like this.
You push her back abruptly, letting fresh air fill your empty lungs. "What's wrong?" Clarisse inquired worriedly.
"Last week." You sighed out, chest still heaving as your thoughts clicked together. "You thought I had asked you on a date, that's why you were disappointed."
She winced at the reminder, and for the first time in your life, you had been lucky enough to witness a flustered Clarisse.
"I'm right." Her silence confirmed. "Oh Clarisse, why didn't you just ask me?"
Huffing loudly, she rolls her eyes in irritation. "I thought I was obvious enough. "
Thinking back on it all, it did seem pretty obvious, but gods were you oblivious. The way you intepreted it all so wrongly.
"I've liked you for so long too." You admitted to her. Her scowl was gone at that, replaced by a teasing smile. "And what are you gonna do about it?" Her mouth returned to yours, letting go of all your fears and holding on to Clarisse like she's your anchor, you close the gap between your lips, welcoming the kind of pleasure that you've never tasted before.
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theostrophywife · 5 months
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if u have time could u do theo taking care of a drunk reader?? thank u sm ❤️
here (in your arms).
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pairing: theodore nott x reader.
song inspiration: here (in your arms) by hellogoodbye.
author's note: in a soft fluffy theo mood. don't text.
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The boisterous sounds coming from the common room party filtered through the empty corridor of the boy's dormitories, making you sway to the beat of the music as you lifted your fist to the door. You rapped against the wood three times—your signature knock to let your best friend know that it was you on the other side.
You stepped back as the door swung open, revealing a disoriented Theo. His ruffled hair flopped over his eyes, the brown waves slightly flat on the right side, which you knew was his preferred side to sleep on. A twinge of guilt tugged at your heart as you watched the sleepy boy before you, his Chudley Cannons sweatshirt and light grey lounge pants indicating that you had probably interrupted his slumber. A rarity, given that your best friend suffered from insomnia more often than not.
Rubbing his eyes, Theo adjusted to the darkness of the hallway and glanced down at you. In your tiny little dress, you shivered in the cool air of the dungeons, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to chase away the goosebumps.
"Hi Teddy," you whispered. "Did I wake you?"
"You did, but I don't mind." Theo said softly, rubbing up and down your arms to provide some much needed warmth. "What are you doing still up?"
"Pans convinced me to play another round of beer pong," you confessed. "You should have seen us. We obliterated the boys. Malfoy threw a fit."
The silly giggle that you covered behind your hand made Theo smile. If your constant swaying wasn't enough of an indication that you were currently inebriated, the deep red flush on your cheeks, neck, and arms told Theo all that he needed to know. You were absolutely sloshed.
"I'm sorry I missed it, dolcezza." When your body temperature refused to thaw, Theo shrugged off his jumper. For a brief moment, you caught a glimpse of his toned stomach, his olive skin glimmering in the dim lighting. You bit your lip, averting Theo's gaze. Luckily, he was too preoccupied with pulling the jumper over your head to notice. "Come in, let's get you warm, yeah?"
"Mmkay," you murmured in agreement. You trailed behind Theo, almost knocking into the doorway until he laced his fingers through yours, guiding you inside his dorm.
"There's a door there, amorina."
"Don't make fun, Teddy." You huffed, pouting as you followed closely behind. "Your room's too dark. How can you even see anything in here?"
Theo chuckled. "Sure, let's blame the lack of light instead of the fact that you're smashed."
"Am not," you countered, plopping onto Theo's large, plush bed. "I'm perfectly sober, thank you very much."
"Fine. Then who was the Minister of Magic during the Goblin Rebellion in 1752?"
"There were two ministers at the time. Boot was in office first, then he resigned due to mismanagement. Basil Flack replaced him." You smirked at your best friend, feeling rather smug. "Just because I'm bevvied doesn't mean that you'll catch me lacking, Theodore."
Theo raised a brow. "So you admit you're drunk?"
"You tricked me!"
"Guilty as charged." Theo admitted, plopping down right next to you. "So, did you bail on the party just to hog my bed?"
"It's not my fault that yours is much more comfier than mine," you mumbled, cocooning yourself underneath his comforters. "Plus, the party wasn't as fun without you there. I needed my partner in crime."
"I thought you'd be glad that I studied for the History of Magic exam instead of getting shitfaced. You're the one always telling me off about partying too much."
"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd actually listen."
"It's you," Theo said with a smile. "Of course I listened."
"I never thought I'd live to see the day when Theodore Nott is more responsible than me."
A smile tugged at your best friend's lips. "Well, one of us has to be. You're a mess, Y/N," he teased. "But you're my mess."
"As if that's not the pot calling the kettle black."
Theo chuckled as you buried yourself in his blankets, hiding from him entirely. He snuck underneath the covers and scooted closer until you were face to face.
"Hello," Theo whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and hugged you liked he hadn't seen you all week. "I've missed you quite terribly."
"It's only been a few hours, Teddy." You replied, giggling as you brushed his hair back. It was getting so long, but you loved how soft and fluffy his locks felt as you ran your fingers through it.
"Says the girl who snuck into the boy's dorms to see me."
"Okay, so maybe I missed you too."
"That's what I thought."
You stayed intertwined for a moment, your hearts beating in sync as you clung onto one another. When you yawned, Theo patted your leg. "Come on, love. Let's get you ready for bed."
"But I'm already comfy," you whined, burying your face in his chest.
"I know, amorina. But you'll feel so much better after you've washed your face." You pouted in response. "I promise I'll make it quick. Then we can cuddle, okay?"
You nodded. "Okay, Teddy."
Theo smiled before giving you a piggyback ride to his private bathroom. Setting you down on the counter, he pulled out the makeup wipes that he kept in the drawer for this exact reason. You swung your legs in the air as he wiped the foundation off your face. With his brows furrowed and his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, you'd never seen Theo so concentrated.
You grinned and pinched his cheek. "You're so cute when you're focused."
He quirked a brow as he helped you wash off the remnants. "Only when I'm focused?"
"No, you're cute all the time. It's infuriating." You lamented as Theo patted your face with a face cloth. He hummed, spreading serums and moisturizers on your skin like he'd seen you do a thousand times over.
"Oh? Care to share?"
"Hmm," you hummed, leaning into his touch. "I think it's cute when you hook our pinkies together in the hallway so I don't get overwhelmed by the crowd. Or when you get crumbs all over your face and grin like a little kid when I catch you raiding my cookie stash. Or how your eyes light up when we're watching the stars at night."
"You noticed all of that?" Theo asked softly.
"It's you," you answered, mirroring his words from earlier. "Of course I noticed."
The shy smile on his face made your heart flutter. "For the record, I think you're cute too. I think you're the cutest girl I've ever seen in my entire life."
"Sounds like you have a crush on me, Teddy."
"I have for the past six years. Thanks for finally noticing," he said with a chuckle.
You groaned, burying your face into his neck. "Don't say that to me when I'm drunk. What if I don't remember it tomorrow?"
Theo kissed the top of your head and carried you off to bed. "Then I guess I'll just have to remind you in the morning, love."
With a grin, you kissed the tip of his nose. "Thanks for taking care of me, Teddy."
Theo smiled. It was so beautiful that your heart ached to bear witness to it. As he tucked you into bed and wrapped his arms around you, the boy that you loved pressed a kiss to your temple and spoke a promise into the night.
"I'll always take care of you, Y/N."
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Taglist: @annaisabookworm @marina468 @yaraasthings @the0doreslover @bubybubsters @moony-artemis @natasha887 @lucyysthings @criesinlies @bunnymallowo @niktwazny303 @letmedownslows @siriuslyalovergirl @wordsarelife @clairesjointshurt @daydreamingabthar
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celestialtarot11 · 25 days
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Astrology Observations 🧎‍♂️‼️
Hi friends! Today we’re just doing a general post for the astrological signs 🤭✨ Please enjoy and share! Your feedback is always appreciated.
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Earth sign energy is heavy and dark, not negative, but they are very connected to their roots, ancestors and past lives. They carry lots of baggage from the past to heal in this lifetime, and thus may feel they lived through many timelines and cycles. They can feel similarly to Scorpio that experienced tons of transformations.
Libra moons can be indecisive in relationships, not because they have a bad sign placement but because they care a lot about people’s feelings. Sometimes too much to their detriment. They’d rather keep the peace than to rock the boat, but that’s what causes tension. Libra moons just need more confidence and security in their choices, and focus on themselves 🧘
Cancer Venus from a young age experienced misunderstandings from the people around them. Cancer venus wants a close community and people who understand their emotions, but in an emotionally unavailable society they can feel neglected and lonely. Its why cancer venus develops walls to protect their heart. They still care, but it takes them a long time to open up.
Virgos remember little details of everyone and hope they can do the same for them. They essentially give what they need and Virgos need attention and someone who creates quality time.
Gemini venus crave communication and mental stimulation in their connections. They love to learn and interact with people. Gemini Venus can also experience lots of isolation or periods of alone time because they aren’t finding the right people to connect to. They’d rather be alone than to have surface level interaction and filler conversations.
Leo + Aquarius pairing in a chart can indicate the native is truly unique and unforgettable. They strive so much to be themselves that it inspires others to do so. Some may even idolize the native, and others can get jealous because the native has qualities they wish they had. The native basically inspires others to get a personality 💅🏻
Mercury 8h can be so funny. We can get picky about what personal info to leave in the outside world. Even the idea of leaving behind our birthday info can irk us 😭 why? I think being in the spotlight or being perceived can be difficult for us.
Adding onto that, mercury 8h can channel spirits, occult knowledge, spirit guides, etc. when they tap in, they TAP in. They did not come to play 😍 All they need is a good meditation sesh and they’re good to go 🧘 all powered up.
Jupiter 8h can go through so many endings and terrible situations and still somehow come out stronger and better. They take their healing and growth seriously, and I think Jupiter 8h people have big hearts, so they always reconnect with that energy which is what carries them 😤
Cancer + Leo in a chart makes someone mystical, ethereal, private, yet somehow well known. There will always be an aspect to these natives to hide to protect themselves, and yet their Leo side will try to guide them out their comfort zone.
Aries rising females always knew who they were since birth 🤭 they could’ve photographed a lot, dressed up a lot, and it’s iconic. Since birth they knew! Aries rising females can be human rights activists too, because they have strong opinions, perspectives and believe in empowerment. Aries rising females may also be into modeling, because since a young age they were surrounded by cameras and people who thought they were beautiful ❤️
Aquarius rising children always look upset in their pictures or they have that thousand mild yard stare 😭 help #me
Sagittarius rising children always had that mischievous look on their face in every picture, or they looked incredibly angry. They had no issue letting their true selves out 😤
Pisces women tend to move far from their home town or childhood home. Lots of them have dreams of living far away from their roots. I think its to discover who they are and rebuild themselves after going through a lot. They physically need to disconnect from toxic environments to heal.
Gemini sun women are like teachers in many ways. Especially when they’ve healed a lot. They can be a teacher to the siblings around them or people. Many turn out to be motivational speakers because they have so much wisdom to share.
Thank ya’ll so much for reading 💗☮️ feel free to like comment and reblog to support the blog 🧘✨ Have a great one!
Paid Readings ✨
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hoshigray · 6 months
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𝐓𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐞, 𝐔𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐞, 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞 | getō suguru
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𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: rigger! Geto x fem/afab! reader - shibari; rope bondage (boxtie, breast, crotch, elbow) - blindfolded - gagged (handkerchief) - fingering (f! receiving) - pleasure denial - oral (m! receiving) - pet names (angel, baby, little/pretty bird, sweetie, ) - mention of drool/saliva and tears.
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: c'mon now, y'all KNOW geto would be into rope play. matter of fact, it's canon cuz I'm part of gege's assistant team, lol. also, tysm for 2.5k, y'all are too kind ♡
inspired by a talk b/w me and @ramonathinks (ily hon!!)
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"Thank you so much for the help, Geto."
"No problem, now be good and always behave from now on."
"Oh, I will!" The spiky raven-haired offers a warm smile to the woman as two men usher her out of his room, the three dark figures seen from the sliding door disappearing with footsteps heading to the corner of the hallway. Geto then gets up from the tatami flooring and stretches. 
He then stands and looks at the door for three seconds. Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty.
After a full minute, his purple eyes peer at the sliding door to his right, taking light steps when approaching the room next door. Geto hovers an ear next to the door, trying to hear something from the other side if it contrasts with the silence of the room he’s currently in. He gives it a few more seconds before sighing through his nostrils, a sly smile creeping up. Geto brings a hand to the handle, finally sliding it to the right and revealing what was inside.
And to his mischievous glee, his smile grows from ear to ear. Because it wasn’t a what that had him chuckling to himself — it was a who. 
And who laid on the tatami floor before him was you. You were nude, your body covered in red rope, your mouth gagged by a red handkerchief, and your eyes covered in a black blindfold. 
There, you lay on your side on the floor. The red rope around your body restrains your arms and hands behind your back in a boxtie position, and your bare chest prompts up for exposure. The cord separates your breasts to each side, leaving a unique and alluring design that crosses throughout your abdomen and down south. No undergarments in sight; therefore, your chasm was out in the room’s air, the red cable slithering down between your folds, leaving a wet residue on the strict texture. 
And, good Lord. The whimpers you use to comfort yourself in this situation. All naked and isolated to the confines of this dark room, away from light and hospitality. Your meek voice is the only thing that holds familiarity to you. That is until you hear Geto close the door behind himself, the sounds of his light footsteps dancing around the room.
“Well, hello there, little bird.” The warm tone in his voice sent shivers down your spine, for you could hear the words parade condescendingly. Geto walks around the room, lighting up the candles. The smell of smoke and the rosy scent enter your nostrils. “Sorry for leaving you in the dark like this. Were you lonely?”
 He can only hear the mumbles confined from the handkerchief, which he can only assume was confirmation. “I apologize, baby. I had to leave our little session to tend to some business with some monkeys.” He said the last word with such slight vexation; you were bright to listen hard enough to catch it. Geto comes to you and sits next to your restricted body. “But now, you have my full attention, sweetie.” 
Cold, slender fingers touch your cheek, causing you to jerk at the sensation. It makes him snicker. “You know why I have you like this, yeah?” His palm cups your cheek, thumb swiping off drool at the corner of your mouth. “I saw you, my pretty bird, in the garden yesterday. You looked so beautiful and pure with the world — my world.” They snake down to your neck and brush your collarbone. His fingertips now become warm from the friction of your enchanting skin. “Then, I saw some parasite — a man worth for sore eyes — come and talk to you. He even had the gall to touch your hands with his filthy palms.” The hand now comes to your breast, a small gasp when they brush your nipples. “And you, such an amiable and accepting person, let him touch you like that. Unbeknownst to my vision.” Those same digits tweeze the bud or your mound, resulting in a sharp pant covered by the cloth in your mouth. “Who? Who told you to let that happen? Hmm?” 
Of course, he doesn’t wait for your response; what response? Your muffled moans and puffs of air? How silly. Geto brings his mouth to your other nipple, taking it in and sucking on it. The lapping motions of his tongue and the grazes of his teeth distract you from his hand snaking down with the red rope to your cunt. His digits now intrude on your southern lips, playing with your wetness in a teasing manner. And when you feel his forefinger about to enter your slit, you can’t help but sway your hips to invite him in. And it’s detected by the raven-haired man.
“Oh? You want me to put them inside, baby?” He already knows the answer; it’s no surprise when you nod helplessly. However, he clicks his tongue. “I don’t know, angel. Or should I even call you that anymore — how can an angel of mine be stained by the stench of such a foul monkey, huh.” His fingers move away from your cunt, now toying with the flesh of your inner thigh. Oh, the way your brows trench and how you whine for him. It always awakens something in him — something carnal. And how can he subject himself to the cries of his little bird? “Alright, alright. But if you really want me so badly, prove it to me. You can do that, right?” 
Geto removes his hand and mouth from your body, your chasm and nipples feeling outcasted from his warm touch. You jolt when the handkerchief in your mouth loosens and soon meets the tatami floor. Yet, your vision is still shielded by the black cloth. “Su–Suguru,” you chant his name in trembles. “Please forgive me, I—“
“I will forgive you,” the sound of clothing rustling fills the space, indicating that he’s now removing his monk attire. The black yukata comes undone, revealing his upper body while he pulls his pants down to his thighs. Something touches the plump of your lips, the tip seeking entry to your oral cavity. “Just suck me off like you always do, and all will be forgiven. You’re still my angel, right?” And with that, you accept the head of his cock with patient yearning, hallowing your cheeks while your tongue welcomes the underside of his limb. And it takes everything in Geto’s power not to rut your face with relentless vigor. He wants to take this slow first. He needs to see if you deserve his kindness. “Mmmm, good. Just like that…”
A few bobs to the base of his length is enough to put you in a trance, especially with the blindfold hindering your sense of vision, forcing you to rely on others. His smell is so intoxicating, the taste of his precum overcoming your tastebuds and the slap of his balls on your chin. Unhurried thrusts slowly but surely dial up to speed by the seconds. Your euphoric hums become frequent as his dick hits the back of your throat, every inch of him sinking deep into your mouth and throat that strains of saliva streak down to the dent of your chin. Your toes curl when he grinds his pelvis down to your lips, nose pressed to the pubes that fill your nostrils with his raw scent. Good God, it feels so good, the throbbing sensation in your chasm between your legs flourishing within.
And it goes the same for Geto, too. Both his hands find purchase on your head, keeping you in position for him to rut your face. Your tight throat grips him so nicely, the gummy walls holding onto him so deliciously that he can’t fight the wanton need anymore. Erratic hits to your face become apparent, making your mouth soaped with saliva that drips down to the room flooring. And you take the jabs to the back of your throat with ease, mewling on his cock with pleasure while being used like a toy as the head of his shaft bullies your insides. 
He pulls his head back, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as his body jerks to the electric shocks climbing up. He’s close/ So, so close. “…Haaahh—Mmmph!! Damn, you feel so good for me…I’m cumming, angel. Gonna—Ahhhh! Christ…Hmmph!!” With gritted teeth, Geto drills his dick deep within your throat, the warm fluid excreting out his glans greeting its velvety walls. Blissful hums from you vibrate your throat, sending shivers to Geto while he experiences his crescendo. 
When he’s finally done with his high and his load is inside you, he gradually removes his length from you. The tip of his cock resting on your tongue, which licks off any excess come. He then moves to free your shut eyelids from the black blindfold, your eyes fluttering at the scene of the warmly dimmed room, and Geto is now inches away from your face. Your watery eyes sparkle from the candlelight, and tears strike down and slide down your breast until the red rope captures it. “Forgive me, Suguru. I will always be yours. Only yours…”
He gives you a playful sneer, using a finger to wipe a tear from your cheek. He'd be a fool if he let you off the hook, especially now when you look at him as if he's your entire world. That's all he wants from the person he loves more than anything.
“You’re forgiven. And now, my pretty bird,” you can see the slight devious glint that harbors in his dark, violet eyes. 
“I shall reward you.”
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – transparent edit made by me + dividers from @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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blueywrites · 12 days
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u-haul 'cause I might let you move in it (1/2)
dom dealer!eddie x sub fem!reader Inspired by @2jihiir0's fanart 'make it quick... baby's sleeping'. leave them some love! read part two here.
2.5k
cw (both parts): 18+. smut, drug use (weed), situationship becoming something more (???), shame kink, praise & degradation, pet names, exhibitionism-adjacent, no y/n, no physical descriptors, eddie's still a fairly soft dom bc I'm just not hard like that 😭
an: this is just the start of the filth, y'all - most of it occurs in part two 😌 shout out to @munson-blurbs @hellfire--cult @word-wytch and @the-unforgivenn for their feral support and @fracturedarkness bc this wouldn't exist without her.
enjoy part one! 🩵
The afternoon sun hangs heavy in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow through the dusty blinds of the trailer. The air inside is thick with the scent of smoke and stale beer, a heady mixture that clings to the walls. It’s the kind of smell that seeps into your clothes, your hair, your skin. It should leave you feeling slightly suffocated, especially considering the oppressive humidity also clinging to every surface, but somehow, there's a measure of comfort in the acrid scent.
You’re sitting on the threadbare couch, the fabric worn with age creaking as you shift restlessly, trying to find a more comfortable position in the heat. The fabric scratches your soles as you prop your feet up, leaning against the couch arm, fanning the neck of your thin tank top to peel the dampness from your chest. Beneath the old coffee table, your flip-flops lay forgotten, abandoned on the threadbare carpet. A beer bottle sits nearby, sweating rings onto the surface of the table, a testament to the lazy haze of the afternoon.
On the other side of the couch, your dealer lounges against the cushions, his movements fluid and practiced as he rolls a joint with deft, inked fingers. You look over at Eddie as he watches the TV, his head lolled back against the couch, his eyes heavy-lidded, relaxed. He looks good. You can’t help but spend a long moment staring at him: the angles of his face, his big brown eyes and puffy lips, his long, shaggy curls that frame his high cheekbones. He’s pretty, and he’d look downright innocent if it wasn’t for the long nick of white scar tissue kissing the edge of his lip and the scruff darkening his cheeks and jaw. Your gaze dips lower over his tight black jeans, lingering where they meet his rust-colored tank. The shirt is caught up around his hip, revealing a strip of pale skin and a tattoo that you can just see the bottom of. You want to run your tongue over it, then keep mapping all his ink until your mouth has touched each bit of darkness on him.
This thing with Eddie started when you broke up with Trevor and lost your go-to source for getting high. When you’d asked around, a friend of a friend recommended Eddie Munson, saying he was the best you could come by in the area: decent product, reasonable prices, and not a total creep. The first couple times were quick transactions, and then you started hanging around because the girl who hooked you up also told you Eddie would likely offer to smoke you out if you did. He let you hang around because he didn't much care either way, and he didn't find you hard to look at. That led quickly to casual sex whenever you saw each other, usually when you'd come by a couple times a month to restock your supply. And the sex is great– better than the weed, and Eddie's weed is always high quality. He just has this ability to make you feel special in the moment without having any expectations about whatever-you-and-he-were as soon as you pull your panties back on, leaving you free to date whoever you wanted when you left his trailer.
It’s ecstasy to have all of his attention focused on you in those moments because, though Eddie looks like a mean bastard, he gets off on your pleasure. He's not one to make you feel used or neglected; he's a thorough lover. And he has a knack for straddling the perfect line between sweet and sour. He'd praise you then humiliate you in the next breath, and it drove you wild. Kept you coming back even though he never expressed interest in taking you out or doing anything with you other than just getting high, watching TV, and fucking you 'til you screamed.
And then, at some point, you find yourself declining guys' offers for dinner or drinks. You just don’t feel like going out anymore, because trying to find Mr. Right was getting exhausting— at least, that's what you tell yourself. And Eddie starts calling you sometimes to let you know he had a new strain he thought you'd like, some of Rick's fancy shit. Soon enough, you go from seeing him twice a month to twice a week, sometimes more. And slowly but surely, you begin to notice a change in yourself. You start staring at all his tattoos and wondering what the stories are behind them. Feeling an odd flutter when you flop down next to him and he'd sling his arm around your shoulder without a thought. Laying tangled in his musty bedsheets, and when he leaves to go to the bathroom, secretly burying your nose against his pillow because the smell of him has suddenly become... comforting.
Things are changing for you, and you really hope they are for him, too. 'Cause if not, it seems your traitorous heart has determined you'll be in for a world of hurt.
"Y'want some of this?" Eddie's voice cuts through the haze, drawing your attention away from the television. You glance over to see him holding up the joint, a lazy smirk playing at the corners of his lips. The glow of the joint illuminates his features, soft against the curve of his cheek.
You nod, a small smile tugging at your own lips as you shift closer to him. He pats his thigh, a silent invitation, and you don’t hesitate to straddle his lap, the heat of his body seeping through your pajama shorts. His jeans are rough against your tender inner thighs as you shift, grazing the hardening bulge pressing against his zipper; your stomach tightens with the first whispers of arousal as you feel it brush against you.
"Gimme a show then, kitten," he murmurs, his voice low and husky, making that arousal bloom fuller as you grow excited. It’s a playful taunt, a challenge, but beneath the teasing facade, you can sense something more—a hint of possessiveness, maybe even of longing. That could just be your wishful thinking, but nonetheless, your heart races at the prospect as you meet his gaze, accepting his challenge.
With a coy smile, you slip off the couch, settling on your knees and running your nails up his thighs on your way to his lap. You take your time unbuckling his belt, keeping your movements slow and unhurried, though you secretly throb as you begin to unwrap him. It’s crazy how quickly he turns you on— how all he has to do is smirk and pin you with a look, or murmur a few words in that low, husky tone, and you’re already wetting your panties for him. 
Eddie waits just long enough for you to shimmy his jeans and boxers down to his knees, and then he catches you by the jaw with a broad, rough palm. You look up at him as he guides you back up with his light grip on your face. His eyes flick down to your mouth as he leans forward, curls swinging to kiss his jaw. You brighten, eager to feel his mouth on yours, wondering what kind of kiss he’ll reward you with— something slow and sweet, or wet and filthy. But he leaves just a peck on your lips before drawing back, tightening his hold on your jaw to keep you firmly in place when you instinctively go to chase him.
You fall immediately into a pout, slumping back on your heels as he breathes a chuckle at you. Eddie bends to lightly pat your cheek a few times in consolation before settling back into the cushions, his posture relaxed yet commanding. He must know the gesture would rile you up, and it does— you feel your disappointment churn in your belly, turning to petulance. In retaliation, you clamber up to your feet, abandoning your position kneeling before his boots. With narrowed eyes, you drop your shorts and panties together without ceremony, stepping out of them and kicking them to the side, denying him the chance to enjoy watching you strip. You cross your arms when your bratting only makes him smirk even wider at you. He quirks an eyebrow as if to say, “Well?” 
You resent how much you like his stupid face.
The couch creaks its protest as you climb up onto it, slinging a leg over his lap again, this time with nothing separating your skin from his, which is hot and slightly sticky with the humidity. His cock kicks subtly when your pussy grazes him, and you bite your lip, feeling an answering pulse of desire within yourself. When you mount him, reaching behind to grip him at the base and notch his fat head at your entrance, Eddie prepares for your performance: draping his arms casually over the backrest, fingers idly tapping against the worn fabric, his other arm hinging to bring the joint lazily to his lips. 
He looks like such an asshole, waiting for you to service him. And you might've goaded him more because of it, but you forget about being bratty the second you sink down on his lap, taking him all the way into you. 
A quiet moan sighs from between your cracked lips when you sit fully on his cock, your eyes slipping closed as you get lost in that initial stretch. He's not the only guy you've fucked— far from it— but there’s just something about the way he slots inside, nudging against the end of you, that always leaves you feeling more perfectly filled than anyone else. Eddie watches with a sly glint in his half-lidded eyes as you start to grind on him, letting yourself drift into the space he always brings you into. With him, you can be soft, sensual, and needy, but also desperate and pathetic. You can act out all your secret desires, know that Eddie will flay you open and force you to acknowledge them, and let the shame of it get you off all at once.
Eddie lets you be a freak, and better yet, he likes it.
Desperate to earn his approval, you run your hands up your body, dragging over your hips and up to your neck as you ride him. Your abdomen rolls as you grind with fluid, sensual movements, doing your best to put on the show he’d requested. You look at him through your lashes as your wandering fingers catch on the hem of your tank top, dragging it slowly up to reveal your soft belly. You hold it just below your breasts so Eddie can watch the way your curves bend and move while you work his cock. 
In some respects, the dance is for you as much as it’s for him because the way Eddie watches you with rapt attention, his eyes devouring every inch of your body, really turns you on. You bite your lip, your clit swelling with anticipation as you tease him with a glimpse of the underside of your breasts. He hums approvingly, taking a leisurely hit from the joint. As the smoke curls around him in a tantalizing haze, you give in sooner than you’d been intending and ruck up your top to let your breasts fall out. You start to play with them, squeezing and kneading as you rock your hips harder, your own need mounting.
Gradually, your performance ceases being a performance. Your nipples begin to ache, begging to be touched, and a moan spills unbidden from your lips as you tweak and pinch them, sending pleasure zinging straight down within you. You close your eyes, a tiny frown forming as you try to concentrate on the low flame of your arousal, but it remains at a frustratingly low simmer. You rock faster, grind harder, pinch harsher, your movements a silent plea for the sweet relief only Eddie can give. You’ve built your own pleasure as much as you can on your own, and now, you need him. The coyness is wiped from your expression, replaced with a begging pinch in your brow, a needy, wet shine in your eyes as you blink unseeingly at him, all pretty and pathetic on his lap.
At the border between satisfaction and desperation— that’s where he wanted you. 
A hand at your hip stills your movements, and as your eyes snap to focus on Eddie's face, you see he’s leaned forward, his nose scant inches from yours. His other elbow is planted on the couch arm, the joint poised tantalizingly nearby in his ringed fingers. Eddie squeezes your hip firmly, then again more gratuitously, and when you obediently fall still to sit motionless on his cock, he lets his palm slide up the curve of your waist in a drag that makes you gasp, you're so wired and ready for his touch. You watch, rapt, as he brings the joint toward his lips, salivating as a swipe of his tongue moistens them.
“Look at me.” 
Your eyes snap up to his, captured completely by his unwavering gaze. As he inhales, those brown eyes glitter in the orange that flares bright at the joint’s end. And he keeps that point of contact between you as his broad palm travels up, up, up— over the supple heft of your breast, grazing the hard peak of your nipple, skimming the thrumming pulse in your neck, his thumb catching on the underside of your jaw as he cups your cheek. He closes those scant inches between you, and when the bulb of his nose nudges yours, your mouth falls open as your eyes slip closed. 
He exhales, you inhale. When the warm rush of Eddie’s breath kisses your lips, you take it into you, your chest expanding as your lungs fill with smoke. The taste of him mingles with a heady rush of arousal, and you continue to take, even through the twinge of discomfort as your lungs stretch to accommodate it all. As Eddie gives you the last of his smoke, you close your mouth, keeping it all inside.
“Hold it,” he murmurs against your skin. His lips trail kisses along your jaw as you obey, fighting your diaphragm as it hitches, wanting to cough. You make a little noise in the back of your throat when he nips you, the brief sharp sting soothed soon after by the flat of his tongue. You hold as long as you can, and when you finally exhale, Eddie rewards you by taking hold of your hips, pulling you into a slow, sensual grind as he kisses you sloppy, wet lips wide and devouring. The friction and fervor crash over you in an intense wave of pleasure, one that has you whining, twisting your fingers in his hair, pressing your tits to his chest, ready to ignite—
The front door shakes with the pounding of a heavy fist.
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jjunieworld · 1 month
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more than this? ` ༘ ⋆𓂅
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pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader
genre: friends with benefits to lovers, smut, the slightest bit of angst, kinda mutual (unknown) pining??
synopsis: when beomgyu asked you to be fuck buddies, you thought it was risky considering your already growing feelings for him. but, you just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to be close to him in any way that you could. now you’re wondering if the two of you will ever be anything more than this.
warnings: unprotected sex (no!!), dom!beomgyu, sub!reader, fingering, creampie, multiple orgasms, slight praise, petnames (baby), some aftercare
word count: 3.1k┊masterlist
author's note: when i tell you i was literally working against the clock for this one to post it on time for beomgyu’s birthday… happy birthday beomgyu!! :)) this was kinda inspired by the song k. by cigarettes after sex! hopefully i can get past this writer’s block so i can start posting regularly again :( i hope you enjoy!! ♡
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the mixture of you and beomgyu’s pants filled your bedroom. the two of you had been going at it in different positions for hours and the sun had just started to come up. your body was essentially jello by now but the feeling of beomgyu inside you felt too good to stop. besides, you knew this was the only time you could ever be intimate with him.
when the idea of you and beomgyu being friends with benefits first arose, you were hesitant to accept his offer. the two of you were close, but not exactly bestfriends. you refused to let yourself get that close to him knowing you had feelings for your longtime friend. it was also difficult knowing that he mainly just wanted a quick fuck whenever you were down for it.
but, you couldn’t refuse. you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to have your body pressed against his, your breaths mixing as he pounded deep inside you.
again, you felt the knot in your stomach tighten as the pleasure got too much for you. “beomgyu, i’m gonna c-cum again,” you spoke shakily, pushing at his shoulders. everytime the two of you were together he insisted that the main position you fucked in was missionary. “you’re face is way too pretty to just be pushed down into the sheets,” beomgyu had said.
beomgyu pressed his lips to yours, half kissing you and half moaning, “cum for me, baby. one last time.” your nails dug into his shoulders and you leaned your head back towards the headboard as you came undone. still, beomgyu slid in and out of you, helping you chase your high. his lips were on your jaw and slight whimpers were coming out of his mouth as he came right after you.
you looked at beomgyu through hooded lids and furrowed brows as you felt him release inside you once again. whining a little, you kissed him hard. after this, he would leave and you would be alone again. you didn’t want the time the two of you were spending together to end, even if the ever growing stickiness between your thighs was starting to get a little uncomfortable. you were definitely going to have to wash your sheets and comforter a couple times after this, the mix of both of your cum was all over it.
beomgyu slid out of you and fell onto the bed next to you, his hair falling over his eyes as he looked over to you. he tapped a finger to your lips, his body catching the light from the thin sheen of sweat all over him. “good?” beomgyu asked you. you giggled and nodded, “very good.” beomgyu smiled at you and got up from the bed, the sunlight coming through from the blinds lighting up with slightly dark room.
“shower with me,” beomgyu said as he walked around to your side of the bed. he held out his hand to you and you had to resist the urge to take in his naked body in front of you. you’ve seen him naked more times that you could count now, but it always shocked you to see how delicious he looked. you stood up slowly, wincing slightly from the pain in your legs, and took his hand.
you had some of beomgyu’s clothes, either from him keeping some at your apartment for future hookups or him accidentally leaving some at your place after rushing out. you didn’t mind really, it was more convenient and you liked wearing his shirts to bed after he left.
“if i can get up…” you trailed as you moved to him. “i wasn’t expecting to go for that long today,” you added as you wobbled slightly. beomgyu smirked down at you as he held you steady. “i didn’t hear you complaining,” he replied as you both made your way to your bathroom.
rolling your eyes at him playfully as you leaned against the sink, you murmured under your breath, “and you never will.” thankfully, him turning the water on covered your words. becoming fuck buddies was risky enough to the strange friendship you and beomgyu had, but adding your feelings into the mix would be catastrophic. sometimes you felt like your friendship was hanging off the ledge and one wrong move would completely destroy it and you would lose beomgyu forever.
the sound of the shower curtains drawing pulled you out of your thoughts and you looked over to beomgyu. “come on,” he said and stepped into the shower and behind the curtains. you walked over and pulled the curtains back slightly to peer in at him. beomgyu’s back was to you and he was under the running water as you stepped into the shower. he turned to you with a small smile and moved you towards the water.
the two of you worked in silence as you washed your bodies, occasionally helping each other, until you were clean. you were both now sitting on your bed watching the sunrise through the window that you opened to let in the fresh air. “let me take you out to dinner,” beomgyu suddenly said, his wet hair sticking to his forehead. you turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “i feel like an asshole after we have sex. i don’t want you to feel like i’m just using you,” he then added.
isn’t that what this is though? maybe not him explicitly using you per se, but him just being here for the sex? you knitted your brows together as you thought over his proposal. you tried not to let yourself fall into the thought that beomgyu might want something more than this. you didn’t want to go through the heartbreak if you turned out to be wrong.
what damage could you going out to dinner with him do? “okay,” you nodded, speaking softly. beomgyu’s face lit up with a smile and he brought his lips to yours, causing your heart to race and your face to heat up significantly. the two of you did all the intimate things couples do, except you weren’t one. it made your head spin.
“later on today!” beomgyu exclaimed as he got up from the bed. he started to collect his things from around your bedroom. your heart sank as you realized he was about to leave. “around noon. i’ll pick you up!” he added. you put on a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes as you nodded again. “i’ll see you then!” you laughed breezily, hoping to come off as carefree as you got up and followed him to the door.
beomgyu pressed another kiss to your mouth before turned to leave. you waved goodbye to him as he jogged to his car before shutting your door. pressing your head to the coldness of the door, you breathed in deeply. you desperately needed to sort out your feelings before this all became a mess.
you smoothed out your dress again as you stood in front of the mirror by your door. taking a deep breath, you checked the time on your phone again. beomgyu would be arriving any minute, which was confirmed from the incoming text of him saying he was around the corner. you still weren’t sure if this classified as a date or not and you tried—and failed miserably—to steel your nerves.
there was a knock at your door, causing you to jump. you took one last deep breath before opening it to beomgyu on the other side. a small smile grew on his face. “hi,” beomgyu said, taking in your appearance. “you look pretty!” you couldn’t help but smile back at him, especially after he called you pretty. everytime you looked at him your heart fluttered and leaped around in your chest, begging to be let free. “hi,” you replied softly, your smile growing. “thank you, you look pretty too!”
“are you ready?” beomgyu asked with a slight laugh and you nodded. he led you to his car and the two of you began the drive to whatever restaurant beomgyu had picked out.
at the restaurant, which was quite fancy from the looks of it, you got a table towards the back where it wasn’t as crowded. now you sat across from beomgyu, menu in hand, as your face heated from the sheer thought of the situation you were in. the waiter had come and taken your orders so now it was just a waiting game. you and beomgyu had been making small talk as you tried to ignore the slight grumbling of your stomach.
“i know you said you felt like an asshole, but you didn’t have to take me to dinner,” you said, letting a smile form on your face. you were trying to gauge his intentions to make your anxiety go down since pushing your feelings away clearly wasn’t working. “i do. and yeah, i did feel like an asshole, but that was mainly an excuse to ask you out to dinner with me,” beomgyu said.
you almost started to choke from an inhale gone wrong but manage to cover it up. you stared at beomgyu with wide eyes, “you wanted to take me out to dinner?” beomgyu laughed and leaned towards you slightly. “of course! who wouldn’t want to take you out to dinner?” the waiter came back with your food and you waited for them to leave before speaking.
“well you don’t really take someone you’re casually fucking out to dinner,” you blurted, stabbing your fork into the food you got. you froze as you realized what you just said. without missing a beat, beomgyu replied, “then let’s stop being casual.”
looking up at him, mouth agape, you struggled to form words. all you could manage was a choked, “what?” beomgyu shrugged and repeated his words, a smirk growing on his face. “we already do everything a couple does—kiss, fuck… and it’s not like i’m seeing anybody else—don’t even have the desire to. you’re the only one i want,” beomgyu shrugged again like he was simply saying the grass was green as he ate his food. he then looked up at you through his lashes, “unless you’re seeing someone?”
you forced your mouth to stop hanging wide open. “you want me?” you asked seriously, setting your fork onto your plate with a slight ‘clang!’ beomgyu stopped eating and looked at you, tilting his head to the side as he let out a small laugh. “y/n, are you serious?” he asked you as if you were joking around with him. when you were silent he sat his utensils down and stared at you for a couple seconds.
“i just spent hours having sex with you. you think i’d spend hours having sex with someone if i only wanted a quick fuck?” beomgyu then ask you seriously. you shrugged and looked down, pushing your food around on your plate. “being fuck buddies is different for everyone… how was i supposed to know you wanted me back?” you trailed. beomgyu gave you a bewildered look, mouth slightly ajar.
he then called over the waiter and asked for the bill and to-go boxes. you stared at him in confusion, “what are you doing?” beomgyu just shook his head at you, saying nothing. the waiter brought what he asked for and he handed you one of the to-go boxes as he paid. “beomgyu,” you spoke as he moved his food into the box. you were confused on what was happening as you mimicked his actions.
once the two of you were finished, beomgyu stood from his chair, to-go box in hand. “let’s go,” he said. you rose to your feet and grabbed your things with furrowed brows, “go where?” you desperately needed answers. “my place,” is all he said as he started towards the entrance of the restaurant.
the drive to beomgyu’s place was silent. he pushed open his front door and dragged you inside towards his bedroom, abandoning your food on the kitchen counter. you stood awkwardly in the middle of his room as you waited for some sort of explanation. “do i want you?” he murmured under his breath sarcastically like it was some joke. beomgyu turned to you suddenly, “are you seeing someone else?”
“of course not!” you exclaimed, brows knitting further together. “okay then,” beomgyu replied as he began stripping off his clothes. “what is going on?” you asked frustrated.
“i’m showing you i want you,” is all beomgyu simply said, now only in his boxers. he came up to you and grabbed the hem of your dress, taking it completely off in one swift movement. you weren’t wearing a bra underneath, so now your breasts were on full display for him, nipples perking up from the sudden coldness. beomgyu’s lips were on yours in an instant as his hands slid up your waist.
you returned his kiss as you pressed your body to his for some type of warmth. “you could’ve waited until after we ate,” you murmured against beomgyu’s lips. you felt him smile and he guided you back to the bed. “lay down,” beomgyu said, breaking away from you. his finger hooked onto the hem of your underwear, “and take these off.”
your heart was racing as you slid your underwear down and climbed onto beomgyu’s bed. heat pulled at your core as you waited for him to make the next move. beomgyu smirked at you as he slowly pulled his boxers down against his hard bulge. his cock sprang out, causing your eyes to widen a little.
now that your mind was clear for once, you really took in just how big beomgyu’s cock was. pressing your thighs together and shifting on the bed, your face heated at the fact that it was about to be inside you. beomgyu stroked himself a couple times before stepping towards the bed. he climbed overtop of you, causing you to lay down onto your back.
the tip of his cock was rubbing against your clit and it sent shivers through your body. your pussy throbbed even more at the contact. “how could you be so clueless?” beomgyu asked you before his lips captured yours. his hand trailed down to your pussy and his thumb started to rub circles into your clit. you moaned into his mouth, hips rocking upwards, “you should’ve just told me.” your voice was starting to come up breathy as your hips grinded up towards his hand.
beomgyu slipped his fingers inside you, “why didn’t you tell me?” your brain fogged over, small moans escaping your lips as he pumped in and out of you. your wetness made it easy, and the slight squelching sounds set your body on fire. you kissed beomgyu to try and stifle your whimper. “gonna cum,” you breathed out, completely ignoring beomgyu’s question.
you threw your head back into the pillow and beomgyu trailed kisses along your neck as the knot in your stomach tightened. you wrapped your arms around beomgyu��s neck and brought his face to yours as your legs started to tremble, kissing him hard. your hips rolled up as you came around his fingers, breathing heavily as you put your forehead to beomgyu’s.
beomgyu kissed you sweetly for a moment before pulling away to hover over you. he lined his cock with your entrance and slowly slid inside you, brows furrowing. “fuck, baby,” he said as he bottomed out. beomgyu began sliding in and out of you at a decent rate, his head bowed as he watched your cum coat his cock, before picking up his pace.
you cried out as he pressed your thighs to your stomach, using the advantage to fuck into you deeper. “you can take it, baby. i know you can,” beomgyu said before giving you a chaste kiss, a whimper spilling out of his mouth after. he filled you up so much you felt like you were going to burst at the seams. you felt every inch of him, especially the tip of his cock hitting against your sweet spot. it made tears prick your eyes and your teeth to bite down hard on your bottom lip.
“you like that? you like when i fuck into you like that? when i make you feel good?” beomgyu breathed, staring down at your whimpering figure. you squirmed underneath him, eyes squeezed shut as you nodded, “mhm, p-please don’t stop!”
beomgyu sloppily kissed you, slight grunts vibrating against your mouth as he continued fucking you. “it feels so good,” you murmured, trying to grind up into him in any way that you could. beomgyu’s hands gripping your thighs and pinning you to the bed made it impossible. beomgyu moaned, head falling with tightly knitted brows and you felt him twitch inside you.
“mmm, baby you’re gonna make me cum with how fucking tight you are around me,” he said lowly. beomgyu’s voice was so attractive, especially when he lowered it. that it made the rope inside you snap and you came all over his cock, a whimpering mess beneath him. “that’s it, baby. fuck…” beomgyu trailed and his grip on your thighs tightened as he feverishly stroked in and out of your pussy faster.
your nails dug into his shoulders as you cried out again, shallow moans pouring out of you as your back arched off the bed. “t-too much!” you whimpered.
“take it,” beomgyu demanded as he continued his pace. his head fell back and his mouth hung open as you watched his hips roll back and forth through watery eyes.
“shit…” beomgyu said, breathing hard as he came inside you, filling you up even more. his strokes faltered as he rode out his high and you whined loudly underneath him, squirming from your sensitive pussy. beomgyu leaned down and brought his lips to yours to slowly kiss you.
“my baby,” he said airily, pecking your lips before pulling away. you looked at him through hooded eyes and tear stained cheeks, not even registering his words. beomgyu chuckled at you before kissing your cheek and then your neck. “my baby, always so good. i could fuck you for days,” he said against your neck, leaving goosebumps on your skin.
beomgyu leaned back and slowly pulled out of you, a wince on his face. you felt empty without him inside you, without his big cock filling you up to the brim. you felt the cum drip out of you and whimpered slightly. beomgyu laid down onto the bed next to you and pulled you towards him. “my clueless, fucked out baby,” beomgyu laughed as you settled into him. you giggled and pushed at his chest a little, “shut up!” beomgyu pressed a kiss to your forehead as he laughed more.
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kcrossvine-art · 11 days
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haiiii dungeon delvers! This is a quick one, gratefully both the materials and the dish-type are very close to their real life inspiration :D
As we speak, my favorite catgirl bestfolk is getting introduced to the anime and you haven no idea how much self control its taken to not immediately jump forward to be in sync with her, but theres SO many good recipes before we get there!!!
We will be making a Mandrake and Basilisk Omelet today!
(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)
MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS
SO, “what goes into a Mandrake and Basilisk Omelet?” YOU MIGHT ASKIts made from the egg of a basilisk, which isnt a large chicken egg but instead a large snake egg. Oblong shape, soft leather texture, and no eggwhites just yolk.
A large daikon
½ lbs fatty bacon
Shallots
Garlic
Chicken eggs
Salt
Pepper
Arugula (for garnishing)
OPTIONAL; ketchup/hot sauce :)
You could try cooking this using actual snake eggs, but theyre hard to come by and reportedly quite bland compared to chicken eggs. I tried getting my hands on an ostrich egg for the pizzaz of it all. The zoo lady was kind in her dismissal.
AND, “what does a Mandrake and Basilisk Omelet taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKOmelettes are standard fair but here we cook them like a french omelette and wrap it up like a burrito at the end.
Wetter eggs than im used to ( <- american)
Daikon and bacon r very tasty together
They end up having the same texture almost
Intensely savory. Heavy on the tummy
Chopped green onions would bring more levity to the filling
Ketchup pairs well
(but i prefer medium hot sauce)
Dark coffee pairs well
The acidity of the above 3 is what makes them work with this nutrient Dense dish
. In the show, decapitated mandrakes are more bitter than mandrakes left 'whole'. If you want that difference, using sweet/sour sauce on some of the daikon while it cooks will make the non-sauced daikon seem bitter by comparison. . Maybe ferment daikon too? . Adding a small amount of water with the bacon transfers the heat evenly, a small amount as to cook off before the fat/grease renders. Could also try cooking in the oven.
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"Consisting of a fluffy Basilisk egg omelet filled with minced Basilisk bacon and mandrake.If the mandrake used was killed with its 'head' still attached, it will be less bitter and more mellow" This dish is important as it marks the beginning of Senshi and Marcilles bonding, and the lead-up gives us our first glance into the school Falin and Marcille met at. Objectively the recipe is basic but it was challenging to write out.
Omelette making is muscle-memory, so having to learn the french variation and slow down felt like trying to ride a bike side-saddled.
It took about an hour and a half from laying out the ingredients, to eating the finished thing. I had to take a break in the middle of cutting veggies as my wrists are flaring up, so you could probably go faster unimpeded.
What would you rate this recipe out of 10?(with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) Did you love it, did you hate it? What're your thoughts on what I could do different, and what would you have done instead?
🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁
Ingredients:
1 large daikon, chopped
½ lbs fatty bacon, chopped
2 shallots
3 cloves of garlic
3 Eggs
Salt
Pepper
Some arugula (for garnishing)
OPTIONAL; ketchup/hot sauce :)
Method:
Chop your bacon into roughly ½ inch squares. Cut off the ends of your daikon and cube the rest. Thinly dice your shallots and crush your garlic cloves.
Bring a cast iron skillet to medium-high heat. Once at temp, carefully add your chopped bacon to the pan with a very small amount of water.
Add your chopped bacon and stir-fry until almost cooked.
Add your shallots and garlic. Cook for about a minute or until the shallots have softened.
Transfer the bacon, shallot, and garlic mix to a bowl. Set aside. Lower the cast iron skillet to medium heat.
Place your daikon cubes in the cast iron skillet, you should still have enough bacon grease. Add salt and cook until lightly browned on each side.
Add roughly 1 tablespoon of water. Lower heat and cover. Simmer for 2 minutes.
Once your daikon are softened, transfer to same bowl containing your bacon, shallots, and garlic.
Crack your eggs into a seperate bowl and whisk for 2 minutes until 'frothy' with no egg whites visible.
Bring the cast iron skillet back up to medium heat. There might not be enough bacon grease left, so feel free to add butter! If the butter browns you've gone too hot.
Pour your eggs into the skillet. Use a spatula to spread the eggs, scraping down the sides of the pan. Sprinkle salt and pepper in, to taste.
Once your eggs are mostly solid, pour the bacon, shallot, garlic, and daikon filling into the center. If it starts to separate- stop touching and let it rest. Gently fold the edges of the omelette overtop the filling.
Lay a few pieces of arugula on a plate, and flip your omelette onto it :) enjoy!
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sabersandsnipers · 7 months
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Drabbles: Just One Bed (part ii)
Featuring: Astarion, Halsin, Gale, Raphael
A/N: I love that you are all as obsessed with the one bed trope as I am lol. Inspiration courtesy of @creativepromptsforwriting
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Astarion
You can’t explain the pleasure that courses through your veins every time Astarion feeds from you. The delicious waves of heat that writhe in your lower abdomen. The light feeling that envelopes you as your blood is slowly drained from your vessels.
This current feeding session isn’t any different. Slight moans leave your lips at the delicious feeling floating through you. Astarion cradles your head for easier access to your neck, his other hand grips your thigh, holding you in place.
Just when the edges of your vision begin to blur, his fangs part from your skin. You let out a breath, heat flushing through you. His tongue licks the remaining blood off your neck. The hot feeling of his tongue gliding along your skin earns a shiver from deep within you.
“Thank you,” he sighs, hovering over you. “I was feeling so weak.”
You simply nod, your mind so mushy you can’t even form a coherent sentence. Your limbs feel like jelly. Your breaths come out in heavy bursts, as if you just were running uphill.
Astarion notices your state, taking in the paleness of your skin, and the slight shake in your hands. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?” It’s the least he could do after taking so much from you.
You look at him, an incredulous look on your face. He’s never invited you to stay with him before. Not that the invitation isn’t tempting. The last thing you want to do right now is drag yourself to your own tent. Besides, you find Astarion’s presence comforting, despite his history.
“Sure,” you respond, your body relaxing a bit.
Sleep is quick to find you. After a few hours of dreaming, you wake to find yourself in Astarion’s arms. His face is buried in your neck. Your body is flush against his, and you can feel the firmness of his body.
You smile to yourself, happy to help find comfort in any form.
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Halsin
The grass beneath you tickles your skin. The hardness of the ground presses into your back uncomfortably. You always admired Halsin’s connection to nature. But did he have to be so connected he had to insist on sleeping in the woods?
Traveling with Halsin alone meant “using the forest as your resting place”, as he had said too excitedly. You couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. He was absolutely giddy at the prospect of a sleepover with you under the stars.
But now, with twigs digging in your back and rocks up your ass, it’s hard to see the bright side of the situation. You toss and turn, trying to find any sort of comfortable position.
“Are you alright?” You hear Halsin’s deep voice ask.
You squirm against the ground again. “I’m alright. I just…feel a little exposed is all.”
He chuckles. “Understandable, seeing as it’s your first time sleeping in the forest.”
You hear him shuffle closer to you. The heat of him is quick to reach you. “Come here,” he says, reaching for you.
You allow him to pull you onto his bare chest. The firmness of his body is somehow more comfortable than the hardness of the ground. He wraps his arms around you, securing you in place .
Every inch of you is acutely aware of his proximity. He seems unbothered by your positioning though. You will admit, laying on top of him is much better than the cold, hard ground.
His thumbs trace circles along your exposed skin, and your arms wrap themselves around his neck as you find the most comfortable position you can.
“Better?” He asks. His voice vibrates through you.
“Much,” you tell him, and he lets out a contented sigh.
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Gale
Your group was lucky to reach an inn before the storm began raging. The dark clouds stirring above you gave evidence of the snow about to fall. Goosebumps pebbled your skin as the temperature dropped.
You’re grateful to have an actual bed for the night as well. Not so grateful you have to share with someone else. But if you had to share with someone, Gale isn’t a bad choice. He’s one of the few members that’s actually considerate, even selfless.
The bed is pretty small, and even with the fireplace going, you find yourself growing cold. You pull the blanket around yourself as tightly as you can, careful to not take too much cover away from Gale. You can feel warmth radiating from him, though, and your body craves it.
Your teeth chatter suddenly, and you clamp them in an attempt to smother the noise.
“You’re cold aren’t you?” Gale suddenly asks. You turn to face him, a slight flush heating your cheeks as you notice he’s sleeping shirtless.
“I’m fine,” you lie, not wanting to complain.
He sighs, motioning you over. “Just come here. We’ll stay warm if we’re close.”
You know you should deny him. Snuggling with a companion is a risky game. But you trust Gale.
You scooch over into his embrace, sighing at the warmth of him. He wraps his arms around you as you rest your head against his chest. Your fingers are freezing, so you place them against his torso.
He hisses. “Your hands are freezing.”
You giggle. “Sorry. I hope you don’t mind.”
You feel his mouth move against your hair. “Not at all.”
His skin nearly feels like fire against the cold, but it’s also a welcome feeling. You admire how he holds you so tightly. You breathe in his scent, noticing how it comforts you.
It doesn’t take long for his heat to seep into you, and eventually, a deep sleep overtakes you.
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Raphael
It’s either sleep in his bed with him, or sleep in your cell. He says you should call him merciful for giving you a choice, but it doesn’t feel like mercy. He’s so pleased with himself when you huff with frustration at his offer.
Sleep with a devil, or sleep behind bars. You’re not sure which one is worse. In the end, you choose the option with the bed. Knowing Raphael, it will be one of the most comfortable beds you’ve ever slept on.
He doesn’t hesitate to instantly invade your personal space when you crawl under the sheets. You feel his presence at your back, and you know his eyes are raking over you, taking in every detail he can. Searching for every button he can push.
He presses himself against you, wrapping an arm around your torso to hold you. A tingly feeling builds in your lower abdomen. You scold yourself. This creature simply wants to tease you.
And tease you he does. He traces those claws of his along your thighs. He lets his soft breaths linger at the back of your neck. He never reaches for an intimate part of you though, but will get close before backing off again. It leaves you feeling empty, and it drives you mad.
“I won’t be sleeping tonight, will I?” you ask him, a small shake in your voice.
“Not a wink, little mouse.” You can hear the smug smile in his voice.
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revasserium · 3 months
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waiting for winter (我期待的不是雪)
zayne; 1,616 words; fluff, pining, gn!reader, no "y/n", spoilers for lads ch.4, whipped!zayne
summary: he has never loved the winter
a/n: yes, this was inspired by that one chinese tiktok song. no, i will not elaborate.
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He has never loved the winter.
But he remembers the first time he watched the snow fall reflected in your eyes — your cheeks kissed pink by the unforgiving wind, the sky a smear of white as the cold sunk into his bones. He remembers the silver bell ring of your laughter as you’d dragged him by the hand out to build a snowman, the look on your face when he’d remarked that your snowman’s nose was crooked because there were no carrots at the corner store so you’d had to make do with a potato instead.
“Look! It’s snowing!”
Zayne shakes himself into the present, glancing out of his office window at the cotton-soft flurries spinning by his windows. Across from him, you’re sitting with a muffler thrown haphazardly around your shoulders, watching the snow with an open, child-like wonder that makes his entire chest twist tight with —
He clears his throat.
“All the more reason for you to be careful — make sure to bundle up when you go outside,” he says, dropping his eyes back to your most recent health report.
You’re not sleeping enough, and your vitamin D levels are lower than he’d like. He’d hoped that becoming a Hunter would at least expose you to a decent amount of sun but then again, you had told him that Jenna’s been keeping tight reigns on you since the explosion.
“Yeah, yeah — I’ll be careful.”
He looks up, his eyes dark as he looks over the shape of you, fingers curled in your lap as you look up at him from beneath your lashes. He holds your gaze and fights to keep his expression neutral as you blush and look away, somehow reverting back to a much younger version of you — the memory of it superimposed upon the look of you now.
“You’re just as bossy as you were back then,” you say, sighing as you shrug up your shoulders like a scolded child.
Zayne scoffs, affording himself a small laugh, “Except I have a doctorate to back it up now, don’t I?”
You pout, pursing your lips. Zayne wonders, for the millionth time that day, how soft they might be beneath his own.
“I liked you better before you got your fancy creds,” you say, still pouting.
Zayne sighs, flicking off his tablet and putting it down on the table.
“Alright, what do you want?”
You blink up at him, eyes wide enough to convince anyone else of your innocence. But he knows better. He’s always known better.
“What do you mean?”
He ticks his tongue against his teeth and leans back in his chair, checking his watch.
“It’s almost lunchtime — c’mon.”
He pushes up from his desk and tugs his doctor’s coat from his shoulders, rolling them loose of the tightness that had gathered there all morning.
“Huh?”
He rounds his desk and tugs his winter coat from the back of the door, turning to fix you with a look.
“The noodle shop around the corner has your favorite as a lunch special.”
He counts down from five in his head — four, three, two —
“Really?” your face breaks into a grin wide enough to split your face. He chuckles.
“Yes, really. Are you coming?”
You stare for a second longer before leaping to your feet and bounding to his side. He reaches out to adjust your muffler, tying it tighter over the front of your chest, swatting your hand away when you try to loosen it.
“I’m going to choke!”
“Better that than for you to get sick again.”
He tugs open the door and watches you walk into the hallway, a bounce to your step that he hasn’t seen since you were both kids and he’d promised you he’d buy you sweets on the way home from school.
“How’re you so sure that the lunch specials gonna be my favorite?” you ask, pivoting on your heels and fixing him with a look, halfway down the white-washed hospital halls. Zayne takes his time buttoning up his own coat and locking his office door behind him.
“Because,” he says, voice steady as he strolls by you, glancing down with the shadow of a smile crimping his lips —
“I know you.”
* * *
He has never loved the winter.
But, he thinks as he watches you slurp down a bowl of wide-cut noodles, your cheeks flushed red with joy, he might just learn to love a winter like this.
You don’t question it when he reaches out to swipe at the corner of your mouth with this thumb, licking off the excess with a contemplative hm. But he revels in the way you swallow and blush and look away.
He wonders if you know.
He wonders if you know that you haunt him like the cold haunts him on the nights when he’s alone. He wonders if you see him the way he sees you, cast behind his eyelids like the frames of an old film whenever he closes his eyes, your smile more familiar to him than his own.
“Full?” he asks, watching as you wipe your mouth on a bit of napkin, lips stained red by the chili sauce.
“Mhm!” you nod, smiling up at him.
The noodle shop smells of chicken stock and green onions and the sharp dampness of snow on winter coats. You push the noodle bowl away and stare down at your hands.
“Are you — I mean… you have to go back to work, right?”
He can’t help but notice the note of reluctance in your voice, the way you look up at him as if hoping he’ll say no. He nods, folding his napkin into halves, and then forths. Outside, the sun is already falling toward the far horizon, casting everything in a goldenrod glow. Shadows fall long and sure along the pavement and Zayne doesn’t want to think about the endless hours of darkness ahead.
“Are you going home after this?” he asks, nodding stiffly to the waiter as he hands over his card, wordlessly pushing your hand away as you make a feeble attempt to try and snatch the receipt.
“I… was thinking about going to see a movie,” you say, thumbing at a stray thread along the edge of your coat. He watches you tug at it for a while before reaching out to take your hand in his.
“Go home,” he says, his voice level.
Your brow creases in a slight frown as you look up.
“But… I wanted to see —”
“We’ll see it this weekend,” he says, giving your hand a quick squeeze before letting go, thanking the waiter as he takes back his card and scribbles his signature on the receipt.
“We will?” you ask, blinking up at him as he stands up.
“Yes. It’s showing Saturday at 2:30 — we can get lunch before, or dinner after.”
He’s tugging on his coat when you reach up to loop his scarf around his neck, standing too close, so close he can smell the caramel milk and whipped cream of your skin. He fights down the shivers that threaten to shake down his spine as he goes still, waiting as you tuck his scarf securely around his neck.
“You never tie your scarf right,” you say, dropping back down onto your heels even as you shoulder on your own coat, cheeks dusted the most darling shade of pink Zayne has ever seen. As he watches you, he thinks it might just put the winter sun to shame.
He thinks he might thank you, or he might just bend down and kiss you — he’s uncertain all the way till you make it outside and you turn to smile up at him. And like this, with the dying sun caressing the edge of your cheek, the line of your jaw, you are nothing short of ethereal.
Zayne reaches forward, his thumb and forefinger catching your chin as he leans down.
Your gasp is little more than a hiccup of breath —
“Don’t be late,” he says, stopping mere inches from your lips, whispering the words against where your lips might be if he were a little more daring.
You hold perfectly still, your eyes round as you stare up at him, searching his face for… something — anything.
When he pulls back, he thinks you almost make to chase him. But you let his fingers drop from your skin and you tug at your muffler, toeing at the slushed-up snow on the sidewalk.
“Winter’s my favorite season, y’know,” you say. And Zayne doesn’t dare to hope. But he does — he watches you out of the corner of his eyes. Above you, all around you, the afternoon sun flickers and fades, a daytime aurora, like tendrils of some long-gone magic, coaxing willing believers toward their untimely doom.
“Hn,” he says, not trusting himself with more. He waits; you take a long breath before turning to look at him.
“You wanna know why?” you ask. And finally, finally he turns to you, his eyes catching your eyes — and in them, he sees the twisting colors of the sky reflected there, serpentine and sinuous. Ancient and inexorable. Reds and yellows, pinks and purples, bleeding into an endless, endless winter blue.
He wets his lips and swallows hard, “Why?”
You smile, and it is like the first glimmer of sun after an arctic winter’s night, and he can’t breathe for the sight of it.
“Because… it reminds me of you.”
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lads requests r.... open lol
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idyllic-ghost · 1 month
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title: Hopefully pairing: idol!hongjoong x reader genre: domestic fluff, slight angst, idol!au, secret relationship, hurt/comfort warnings: anxiety over a relatively new relationship, a sexual innuendo, general fears about abandonment and the future of the relationship, not proofread synopsis: You haven’t seen Hongjoong in a week and it’s starting to take a toll on you. wordcount: 3k taglist: @d0nghyuck, @fantasy2wonderland, @niktwazny303, @wonwoospartyhat, @stariightjoyy, @hyneyedfiz, @crazywittysassy, @yeosayang rating: PG
a/n: this is a bit inspired by “oxalá” (aka hopefully) by MARO! i know i was going to write something else, but this story came to my mind and i needed to get it out😭
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You’ve got one (1) new voicemail!
“Hey, babe, I’m not going to make it to your place tonight. I got stuck at the studio and lost track of the time- I’m sorry, I know I said I would come over… I have practice tomorrow morning, but maybe I can try to sneak off to you tomorrow evening? I promise I’ll try my best to make it work! Sleep w-”
The beep cut off the message before Hongjoong got to finish. It was the second time you had listened to it. He had called you while you were at work, doing overtime, and you hadn’t heard your phone buzzing in your bag. It was typical of the two of you; you always managed to miss each other by a hair. You sighed and put down your phone on the counter. The clock on your kitchen wall said 12:30, and you’d usually be in bed by now but you couldn’t bring yourself to lay down in it. Not when you knew the bed would be empty, and the sheets would be cold. Therefore, you sat by the counter with a cup of tea in front of you. 
You were nursing the cup in your palms as if the warmth of the mug would be as comforting as your lover’s embrace. It was late when he had called you, and it sounded like he was heading off to bed, but you were still mulling over whether or not to call him - you just needed to hear his voice. Your phone was next to the cup on the counter, its dark screen was taunting you with your reflection. The little amount of willpower that you had was not enough to keep you away from him; so you picked up your phone and texted him.
You [12:32]: are you awake?
After pressing send, you quickly put your phone down and sighed. You had lost to your needs and wants yet again. The two of you weren’t even official - you couldn’t be. It was easy to fall in love with him, but harder to keep loving him. Everything had to stay secret, no matter how much you wanted to shout to the world that, yes, you were very much in love with Kim Hongjoong and he actually liked you back! However, with his line of work came a lot of restrictions. Seeing him was difficult, meeting up with him in public was even more difficult, and telling people that you were dating was out of the question. 
As much as you enjoyed sneaking around with him, you couldn’t deny your want to be his and for him to be yours - you wanted to be his partner, and you wanted others to know that you were his partner. Instead, you’re stuck in an in-between-relationship; where you’re exclusively seeing each other, but unable to do things that partners would or tell anyone that you were partners - a relationship where you were still scared to seem clingy, despite the two of you barely seeing each other. The low buzzing of your phone brought you out of your spiraling thoughts.
Hongjoong [12:34]: yes, but why are you awake?🤨
You smiled at the message, trying to contain your excitement by biting your bottom lip. The cup was set to the side, the comforting warmth on your palms no longer needed, and you picked up your phone.
You [12:34]: I couldn’t sleep.. did I wake you up?
Hongjoong [12:35]: no, I’m still in the studio🥲why can’t you sleep?
You sighed yet again, trying to come up with an excuse that wasn’t utterly embarrassing to type out. Before you could answer him, your phone buzzed again.
Hongjoong [12:36]:  do you want me to call you?
It was as if he could read your mind. You quickly sent him a yes, and put your phone down to wait for him to call. It only took a few seconds. After waiting for a few seconds, trying to figure out when the appropriate amount of time had passed to answer, you pressed ‘Accept call’ and held the phone up to your ear.
“Hi, baby.” Hongjoong’s voice was raspy like he hadn’t spoken for a long time.
Baby. The nickname had slipped out so casually that you almost didn’t realize that he had said it. Now it was all you could think about. Hongjoong didn’t call you by pet names often, they’d slip out in the heat of the moment and he’d get shy. He could suddenly go from slightly irritated over you touching something in his studio, to a flustered mess because of you teasing him about calling you babe. You would never get tired of it.
“Hey, am I interrupting?” You brought your hand up to your mouth, biting down on your thumb’s nail.
“No, I’m packing up for the night soon.” He sighed, and you could hear him push his chair away from his desk. “I’m sorry for not coming over today.”
“It’s okay, I understand,” you murmured. “Work is important.”
“Not more important than you,” he countered a little too quickly. “I’m working on work-life balance. I promise.”
“I know.” You chuckled under your breath. 
The line went quiet for a moment. You could hear his breathing - soft and steady - and you could picture him, sitting in his chair with a large hoodie draping over his frame. A mixture of comfort and disappointment flooded your veins. Comfort from hearing his voice, disappointment from not being able to hear it in person. Hongjoong cleared his throat, bringing you out of your thoughts.
“Why can’t you sleep?” he asked.
“Oh, I don’t know…” you trailed off, but shortly thereafter continued, “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too.”
His words lingered in the air, and you closed your eyes to savor them. A part of you wanted to yell that if he missed you so much he should try to be here more, but you knew it wasn’t fair. It’s not his fault. You shut your eyes tighter, bowing your head down as if to curl into yourself, and tried to hide from the angry feeling bubbling up in your stomach. Tears started stinging in your eyes, and, despite your efforts, a weak sob made its way past your lips.
“Y/N…” You could hear the frown in Hongjoong’s voice. “I’m sorry, please don’t cry.”
“I’m not,” you lied as you wiped away your tears. “I promise, I’m not. It’s okay. I’m okay.”
The line went quiet again as you sniffled. You could hear shuffling from his end, as he gathered together his things. As you pieced everything together, you quickly tried to protest - telling him that he didn’t have to come over and that you really were fine.
“Stop it.” His voice was shaky. “I’m coming over, and you can’t stop me.”
“I wasn’t trying to-”
“I know.”
“... could you stay on the phone with me until you get here?” you asked quietly, your voice coming off as weaker than you wanted it to.
“Of course.”
You grabbed a tissue and wiped your face from tears and snot, and the realization of what you were doing hit you then. It felt stupid to cry over this, but it had gone too long since you had seen him. The urge to cry, kick, and scream was overwhelming - but you kept it inside your chest with a deep breath. 
“Thank you,” you mumbled. “I really didn’t mean to pull you away from work.”
“I know, it’s okay,” he assured you. “I’m heading to the parking lot now, it’ll only be a few minutes.”
A few minutes until you get to see Hongjoong. You could wait just a few more minutes, right? Despite the assurance that he’d be here soon, the empty feeling in your heart didn’t dissipate. In fact, the cavity in your chest only grew larger. You knew he wouldn’t get here for a while, but you still got up from your chair and walked over to your front door.
“How long has it been since I got to see you?” you thought out loud.
“I think it’s been a week already.” Hongjoong groaned. “I’m really sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, okay? I knew what I signed up for with you.”
It was meant as reassurance, but it came out wrong and you cringed as soon as the words left your lips. Hongjoong laughed, making you feel just a little lighter on your feet. You heard the jingling sound of his keys, signaling that he was already near his car.
“That came out wrong,” you said.
“It’s okay, I get it.” You could hear him open the car door. “Let me put you on speaker, hold on a second.”
You leaned against the wall and listened to the rustling sounds of Hongjoong getting into his car and putting down his phone. The engine started, and he stayed quiet as he focused on getting out of his parking space. The parking lot must have been almost empty because it didn’t take long for him to get back to you.
“Alright, I’m on my way now!” he chimed.
“Thank you, baby…”
“Baby?” he teased, laughing as he finally got to take revenge on you.
“Shut up-”
“No, I deserve this,” he argued. “You never call me pet names, I’m taking advantage of it.”
“Well, now I’m never doing it again.”
He gasped on the other side of the line, and you could practically hear the fake-hurt pout on his lips as he muttered something under his breath. No matter the situation, Hongjoong could always find a way to make you smile.
“I teased you once and now you’re revoking my pet name privileges?” He scoffed. 
You liked him like this. It made you forget about everything else; this was the actual Hongjoong, and only you could witness it. In one slow movement, you slid down onto the floor and crossed your legs. With your head leaning against the wall, you looked up to the ceiling and smiled.
“I thought you didn’t like the mushy stuff,” you said, “I would include pet names in that.”
“I don’t dislike mushy stuff… I just get shy,” he admitted quietly.
“You don’t seem very shy when you go on stage,” you countered.
“That’s different!” he exclaimed, and added with a hushed voice, “I just get shy around you.”
Your smile grew wider. You wanted to tell him that you got shy around him, too, and all of the other things he made you feel - but you couldn’t find the words. His words were saved in the back of your mind, for you to think of later and come up with something equally heartwarming.
“I’m almost there,” he said to break the silence, and you could hear the clicking sound of his blinkers as he was probably driving up to the car park already.
“Good,” you said. “Hongjoong?”
“Yes?”
“I’ll stop teasing you for calling me nicknames,” you said, “if I get to keep calling you ‘baby’, too.”
“Deal.” You can hear the grin in his voice. “I’m getting out of the car now, baby.”
A laugh bubbled up your throat. Partially because of his silly tone, but also out of pure excitement. Your giddiness was apparently contagious, as Hongjoong let out a giggle as well - and you could hear the echo of his shoes hitting the concrete floor as he sprinted towards your building.
“I’m almost at the elevator!” he whisper-yelled.
“Hurry!”
He swore under his breath, clicking the button to the elevator multiple times. Eventually, you heard a ding and the doors opening. He was so close. You wanted to run out of your apartment and meet him halfway, but you knew that his being here was already a risk in itself. So you settled beside the door, no longer sitting on the floor. And when you heard the keys you had given him unlock the door, you quickly opened it and pounced on him. He stumbled back slightly, pressing ‘End call’ on his phone before hugging you back. With your arms still wrapped around him, he walked into your apartment and closed the door behind the two of you. Only then did he fully embrace you. You buried your head into his coat, cold from the chill air outside but it smelled like him so you didn’t mind. Your hands balled up into fists, creasing the soft material of his coat, and you pulled him even closer to you. Hongjoong’s chin found its rightful place on the top of your head. 
“I’ve missed you,” he repeated, and you felt your tears threatening to spill onto your cheeks again. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.” His voice was trembling now.
As you tried to get out of his grip to look at him and comfort him, Hongjoong put his hand on the back of your head. He held you in place, soft enough to still allow you to leave if you really wanted to let go but firm as if he was silently begging you to stay. So, you stayed and pretended not to notice the tears that fell from his eyes and hit the top of your head. He shifted to kiss the top of your head and gave you one last squeeze before letting you go. You watched as he wiped his tears with his sleeve, quickly as if you wouldn’t notice. For his sake, you pretended that you didn’t.
“Have you eaten?” you asked.
“I ate some take-out for dinner.” He bent down to take off his shoes. “If you’re hungry we can eat, but I just want to go to bed with you.”
Yes. Bed. The concept that had seemed so daunting before now felt like a long-lost dream that had come to life. He stood back up, and you took a long look at him. He had colored his hair, you had seen pictures but you hadn’t seen it in person yet. Blonde always did suit him. He was busy taking off his coat while you watched him. It hadn’t settled in your brain that he was actually in front of you, it felt unreal.
“So?”
“Hm?”
“Are you hungry?” he asked with a smile. You had really missed that smile.
“Oh. No, I ate earlier.” You held out your hand to him. “Let’s go to bed.”
He took your hand gleefully and followed you like a puppy who’s just been promised a walk. You brought him to your bedroom. It was clean, and the bed was still made from this morning. While Hongjoong sat down on the edge of your bed, you pulled out some of the clothes that he had left there - an old pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt, that you desperately didn’t want to give back.
“I’ve been looking for this,” he hummed as you gave him the clothes. “I didn’t know I had left it here…”
“I, uh… I may have stolen it.” You sent him your best smile, trying to look as innocent as possible.
“You’re cute.” Was all he said before he went into the bathroom to change.
You had the sudden urge to follow him - and, despite what he would think and tease you for, it was not with sexual intent. Now that you finally got to see him again, you couldn’t stand him leaving even for a second. However, you stood your ground and decided to fix up the bed instead. You removed any throw pillows, and pulled down the covers. Just as you got into your side of the bed, Hongjoong came back from the bathroom. He left his clothes on a chair, before he all but ran to your bed. When he had gotten under the covers, he shuffled closer to you and began peppering your face with kisses.
“I’ve missed you, I’ve missed you, I’ve missed you…” he muttered between every other kiss.
You laughed until you were gasping for air, but you didn’t dare lean away from him. As he planted a final kiss on your lips, you let out a low hum of approval. Hongjoong pulled you closer, letting you snuggle up against his chest. It was almost impossible for you to stop smiling. As it settled in your bones that he was actually there, right in front of you, you finally relaxed.
“I want it to be like this all the time,” you admitted.
“Me too,” he murmured. “I’m sorry it’s so complicated.”
“It’s okay,” you hummed. “I guess it makes times like these more special.”
“I’ll try to make a plan for the future, okay?” he said. “I’ll talk to the company and we can figure something out. We could find a good apartment and-”
“You want to move in with me?”
“Yeah, I love you.”
Maybe it was the fact that it was late, or maybe he hadn’t been sleeping a lot since you last saw him, but the words slipped out of his mouth so casually that you almost didn’t register that he said it. You looked up at him. He was still talking about his plans, not having realized what he had said. Putting one of your hands on his face, gently cupping his cheek, got his attention. His words faltered and you brought his lips to yours for a chaste kiss.
“I love you, too.”
At first, he just seemed shocked, but you could see the gears turning in his head. When he finally remembered what he had said, his face was practically glowing in the dark. He quickly tried to explain how he was very tired, and that he was going to make the moment more special but he had forgotten. You simply smiled and put your head on his chest again, the action silencing the man lying next to you again.
“Keep telling me about your plans,” you said.
He started talking again, and you felt the soft vibration of his words in his chest. As he talked about your future, you slowly drifted off to sleep. Hongjoong kept talking until he finally heard you snore. He brought the covers over your shoulder and hugged you closer. Hopefully, he’d be able to spend every night with you just like this.
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kooktrash · 8 months
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the art of obsession | kim taehyung
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summary: in a world of painters and poets, there were two college students looking for the right sort of inspiration. through devotion in your craft, you find yourself drawn to kim taehyung—a grad student painter who’s everything you’ve ever looked for in a character. his walk, his form of speech, his art, it all captivated you to the point where you wanted to recreate him in words and you begin to realize how similar the two of you really are. you share a sort of obsession in your work that seems like only each other could understand and he invites you into his world of oil paints and charcoals in hopes of drawing you on paper.
✎ genre/au: dark academia. college au. painter!taehyung x writer!y/n [afab. she/her]
✎ 17.4K words
“He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” — Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë
warnings: smut. slight obsession with their work. prestigious college. tae literally takes oc to a graveyard. oc and tae dont take criticism well. unprotected intercourse. oral [f and m]. oc slobs on his knob and tae eats like it’s the last supper. missionary. side position. lowkey passionate sex. fireplace crackling. namjoon and oc used to be fwb. hints that oc and Jimin used to be fwb too. jungkook is tae’s sculpture artist bestie. jimin is oc’s ballerina bestie. namjoon is oc’s writer bestie.
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The smell of cigarettes was something you were fairly used to being around where you resided. You’re not sure what makes it so popular among young academics and sometimes you wonder if it’s not the need of nicotine but more so the aesthetic of it that they all seem to enjoy. It seemed to always linger in the air around campus where all the grad students would walk with their heads down and bags under their eyes as stress took over their entire being. You understand the stress but being an undergrad student yourself, you’re not sure you could understand the extent of it that they must feel. All you could really do is watch the way it slowly deteriorates their body every time they step into the library.
Maybe it’s the Literature major in you, but you never fail to try and assess each person that walks in as if you could see their entire character design and what makes them who they are. Today you got a bit lucky because despite how slow your homework had been going, your favorite case of study had just walked in wearing his usual black turtleneck tucked into a pair of loose corduroy pants. He wore a pair of rounded wire glasses that you love getting to see him in and they did wonders to conceal the eye bags you knew were there.
With this smallest hint of entertainment you’ve found through your long and boring study session with only one friend to confide in, you shut your copy of — excuse the pretentiousness — The Pictures of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, and lowered the volume on your headphones enough to be more aware of the cause of his visit today. You rarely saw him in the library and if he did happen to come by it was to check out or check in a single book on Michaelangelo or Davinci.
You were surprised by how close he seemed to have gotten to you today. The table you studied at was only a couple feet away from a book aisle he had currently walked down and now he was just a meter or so away with his head down in his book. The usual smell of smoke surrounded him and despite scrunching your nose at the smell, you chose to ignore it and study him a little further. You even went as far as to lower your headphones until they curled around your neck giving him your attention even if he didn’t know he had it.
As much of an observer as you were, you never seemed to catch on to the way his gaze would shift to you any time you weren’t looking, eyes scanning your features rather quickly as he made his own assessment. You dressed warmly today, probably due to the fact that there’s been a light rain that has been casted over the city, always seeming to linger longer where the buildings were older and all signs of urban life seemed to dissipate. You were dressed in neutral tones today that placed you perfectly with your own surroundings and if this was a painting he’s sure you would be the focal point—or maybe the single spec of bright color you wore which was in this case your powder blue headphones. He’s not sure he’s ever used that specific shade of blue in a single one of his works before but maybe he’ll look into it.
He rarely visited the library but when he did it was always a pleasant surprise to see you there. He didn’t care much to get to know you, he just found the aesthetic of it all captivating. The library was beautiful, truthfully, with its dark wood shelves and polished tile floors that echoed with each step. It was eerily quiet and it always smelled of old books and always reminded him of a cathedral. There were large stained glass windows of poets, painters, dancers, etc. the clear glass windows overlooked the large pond that covered the back of the small campus where the woods began to take over and student life decreased aside from the occasional late night college party hosted there between trees and bonfires.
“He always comes into my work for paints. I wonder why he always pays in cash.” Your friend said, suddenly appearing next to you and not messing with the printer anymore. He must’ve caught sight of Taehyung before he left and considering he worked at a supply store, it was no surprise he recognized him.
“Maybe he hates banks,” you joked, turning to Jimin with a smile. Jimin pursed his lips staring down the aisle where Taehyung had disappeared once he had his book, “Maybe cash is more aesthetically pleasing. He’s an art major, isn’t he? I say he’s too pretentious to use a plastic card—or even worse, Tap to Pay.”
At that you laughed, deciding to continue the teasing of a man you barely knew while also trying to defend him, “Do people ever get tired of throwing words around?”
“Are you referring to my use of ‘pretentious’?” Jimin asked as he moved to the other side of the counter, “I used the term correctly, it’s an adjective meaning, ‘attempting to impress by affecting greater importance and culture than is actually possessed’. His refusal to adhere to society’s technological advances is pretentious in itself. I bet he still uses No. 2 pencils as an act of defiance against mechanical pencils—if he was a writer like you he would probably be more drawn to a pen but he’s an artist and artists make mistakes that get covered up or changed.”
You couldn’t help but smirk at that, “Tell me then, Jimin, what does a ballerina use to convey words? An Arabesque?”
Jimin released a loud groan, “I hate this goddamn school.”
You watched him open his newest generation laptop and hide behind it. He knew now how little room he had to talk. You, yourself, couldn’t utter a word to disagree with him either when in your hand was a Montblanc fountain pen that cost your parents a hefty 1,500$ to get to you when you were first accepted into the school. You’re sure when the time comes for you to finish undergrad, they’ll up the price and give you one worth 4,000$—the most profound amount of proof that you did in fact strictly use pens for everything.
You would never dare mention anything revolving around the money Taehyung’s family is rumored to have because you don’t know anything about him to do so.
All you knew were the few things you’ve noticed — a couple that even made it into your journal — like the fact that he specialized in two mediums; charcoal and oil paintings. He’s a known name at the University for his work and dedication and you saw that through one of his works. It was dark and a bit twisted but it told a story and you think that’s what drew you into him before you even knew it was him.
Despite his strong presence that always seemed to draw you in, he had a gift for making himself invisible in a group setting. He never spoke up in class, never caused a fuss, he was in and out like a shadow.
At the start of the semester you were taken by surprise when you found him sitting in one of the back rows of the lecture hall to an advanced anatomy class that you’re sure you took for very different reasons. Taehyung was interested in the study of the body so he could fully understand the way the it works from the inside out. He wanted to understand how each limb moved, how fluid each bone and muscle connected, how they could contort, see where the organs go, imagine the flesh coming to life when he painted.
In literature, anatomy isn’t referring to the human body. It refers to a separation of a topic into smaller parts for detailed analysis of the work. You did not make a mistake when you chose this lecture, you too wanted to study the body for your work. You wanted to learn how fragile it really was, how it could be destroyed, how hard it was to do so. You wanted to know about which bones were weaker, which organ puncture did the most damage. You need visuals and understanding of its healing process, of the way it moved, how the nervous system worked. Once you had a better understanding of the body, you just knew that you would be able to apply all these things to your writing. You would be able to detail how your character’s body deteriorated outside and in. How the body would slowly break down, which nerves were affected, how the heart worked in that moment. It would be gruesome but intriguing enough for your readers.
Maybe you needed to write something not so dark, something that didn’t make you take courses you didn’t really need but wanted in hopes that they’ll help you understand better. You didn’t actually need to go this far to describe a couple grueling scenes but it helped.
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The room was silent aside from the obnoxious sound of the clock, Tick… Tock… Tick… Tock…Ticking.
You stood at the front of your professor’s desk in his clustered office filled with classical literature books and awards for writing all over the shelves. His desk took up the majority of the space inside and whenever you were in here you couldn’t help but feel just a little suffocated. There were barely any words shared between the two of you, he only ever decided to truly grace you with his speech when he was critiquing and yet right now he’s been uncomfortably silent.
The silence had grown so long that you found your attention drifting toward the grandfather clock that was tucked away near the overwhelming stained glass window that overlooked the courtyard filled with wet and fallen leaves. The trees were bare and the fountain had a sculpture of a big swan with its wings spread in what looked like a dance. It always reminded you of the Swan Song, but you never knew if that was morbid of you. The idea of your University of Fine Arts decorating the campus in the black and white birds simply for decor always seemed strange to you too.
There was no way they would ever portray anything without meaning, or at least something not up for interpretation and yet every time you looked at one of the swans, you thought about the Swan Song, the way the bird’s wings were open beautifully with each detail chiseled into the stone. It looked like the swan’s final performance before its end. It wasn’t the sort of symbolism you liked to see at a school with such dedicated artists looking for a way to perfect every aspect of their work as if each one was their last.
“I like it,” your professor finally said, drawing your attention back to him in an instant, “Your writing has improved Y/n, I’m starting to really visualize the plot and I think it has a certain rawness to it that I’m not used to seeing from you.”
The corner of your lips turned upward like you wanted to smile but you wouldn’t fully allow yourself to. He hasn’t looked at you yet, his eyes stayed glued to your paper and it was clear he wasn’t done, “But it still feels stiff—well, the main character does. I can’t understand him yet, he’s just a mystery to me and not one I’m interested in unraveling. I can’t understand his depth and it’s becoming a big flaw in your writing. Everything else sounds wonderful, well articulated and with such emotion… that when I think of him all I see a huge lack of substance. He’s being drowned out by the rest and he’s supposed to be the one I follow when I read.”
You didn’t say anything as your jaw slowly clenched shut, eyes unwavering as he went on, “It’s like you have a lack of knowledge for human emotion and psychology, I’m not sure that’s something that can be easily fixed.”
“Does it make my writing bad?” You asked stiffly and he shook his head no.
“No, your writing is captivating but there’s a very huge disconnect I’m feeling from your characters,” he said, looking up at you, “It takes away the beauty of it.”
Your lips felt sewn shut as he handed you back your paper with all of his notes for you to fix and you felt like crying. You couldn’t even utter out a single word as you forced yourself not to react to his words and leave his office with your head held high.
What did he mean by disconnect? What more did he want you to do? What did you not understand about human emotion? You’re a human, what is there not to get? What else did he want from you?
These questions circled your head for what felt like an eternity, only confusing you more and more as you left for your next lecture. You spent the fifteen minute gap with your journal out jotting down every question that came to mind trying to see how you could find answers to these.
You sat alone in your row of seats waiting for other students to arrive and you took the time to brainstorm. He told you your characters lacked substance and implied that they were hard to visualize. He said that he can’t understand them, especially the lead and that he couldn’t be absorbed into a story about a character he doesn’t care for. He basically said that you lacked an understanding of emotional depth for the characters you write and therefore your stories will continue to have a disconnect until something changes. If only something could inspire you, maybe help you analyze these so-called emotions you couldn’t comprehend. You needed to remove some of the mystery around your character and really dive in on his arc, understand how he felt. How could you do that? It's not like you could fully visualize it yourself either unless you really began to study those around you more than you already do.
You sat up straighter in your seat and looked around as the lecture hall began to fill slowly. The room had a sort of ancient feel to it with long hazelnut rows of desks pressed side by side against each other in an amphitheater manner. There were diagrams and models of the human body plastered everywhere but none looked straight off of a doctor’s catalog. They looked like Davinci himself drew every skeleton in the room. It also had a small echo especially when the rain hit the wall or glass windows that sometimes tuned out the sound of talking students entering the hall.
You recognized most of the faces and the one who passed you as he went up a few rows seemed to distract you more than the others. Kim Taehyung didn’t wear glasses today but he wore a wool sweater and linen pants. There was a small splotch of gray paint on his knuckle that he hadn't seemed to notice as he swung his book bag onto the desk with a small thud, uncaring if anyone heard and ignored everyone around him.
He was similar to your character, almost. He always seemed closed off and unapproachable but behind his eyes was an aura of emotion that isn’t easily interpreted. You found yourself beginning to scribble down in your journal, just basic things you noted about him.
The lazy, bored look in his eyes that made him look tired and unamused by everything that happened around him.
Then there was his stance. He had good posture but when he sat down in his seat he leaned all the way back with his arms on the table like he was observing every person in the lecture hall, even you.
You knew this because for a second your eyes met with Taehyung’s and in that measly moment you just took in the sight of each other. Taehyung didn’t hold much expression in face but his fingers seemed to twirl his No. 2 pencil a little more intently now. He ran his gaze down from your eyes to the curve of your nose and curl of your lips. There was something about your facial features that he was delighted in studying. When you looked away and gave him a view of your side profile he leaned toward his desk more and the leather sketchbook that rested over his textbook was flipped open as he began to sketch you.
The drawing didn’t mean much to him, it was just a small doodle to pass time, his hands had to always be sketching and you happened to be his distraction today. Usually he doesn’t really pay attention to you when he’s in class, you sit far enough from each other that you never interact and when he catches you in the library you always seem lost in your own world.
He knows your name, he read your story last semester simply because it intrigued him. It was published on the school forum and won an achievement so he checked it out and it was good, your writing is intricate, or at least that’s what he thinks. He’s able to follow along to every word and not be bored or confused but with a certain degree of understanding that the reader needs to learn. There’s an aura of mystery around it, yet it was not something that he couldn’t comprehend and he thinks that’s why he was able to enjoy it.
At the end of the lecture he had three small drawings of you.
“Come on man, it won’t take long, just one drink,” Jungkook begged him for the third time in a row. Despite his friend’s darker exterior dressed in black jeans, a black tee, and a black leather jacket, he was way more outgoing. He was always trying to get Taehyung to go out for drinks or to party but he just doesn’t have the time.
“Not tonight,” Taehyung said as he opened up his pack of cigarettes and took one out, sliding it to his lips before burning the end with his lighter. He handed the pack to Jungkook who took it without question and did the same.
Jungkook released a sigh in disappointment, shaking his head a little as he said, “Whatever man, you say that every night.”
Taehyung shrugged his shoulders as he took a drag and pulled it out between his index finger and thumb, “Then get the hint.”
His friend wasn’t listening anymore, choosing instead to stare at the building in front of him, dimly lit from all the lamp posts. It was just after sunset and the only students around were probably working on assignments like Jungkook and Taehyung. Taehyung took advantage of the art room to work privately and in a bigger space while Jungkook worked in the warehouse where he could work on his new sculpture. Taehyung couldn’t understand why Jungkook cared about whatever was going on at the library till he casually looked over too.
“She looks familiar,” Jungkook said pointing to you as you walked down the sidewalk toward the bus stop. Taehyung looked too, you had a tote bag like most students around here and there was a butterfly clip in your hair but it still looked messy. Your hair was down earlier and at some point you decided to put it up and he realized now that he didn’t have a preference on how hair looks on someone. He likes the style you had earlier and the one you have now too because they enhance your features more.
“That’s Y/n,” Taehyung said casually as they went to the parking lot. Jungkook looked at him curiously before glancing back at you, “You know her?”
Taehyung didn’t have an answer for that so he didn’t give one, he just walked ahead wondering the same thing. “Let’s get a drink,” Taehyung finally gave in and Jungkook immediately cheered. “Yes! Okay, don’t worry, just one.”
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Beauty is in the eye of the beholder… that is what every artist has ever been taught. Taehyung has never been able to disagree with a statement more than that one. There is not beauty everywhere, it is not as inclusive as one might think and to truly understand art in the many forms it could take, one needs to understand the meaning of genuine beauty.
It’s quite terrifying in a sense, for one to be able to lose control and fall for the Dionysian seduction and view beauty for what it truly is. It is a raw and exhilarating topic that cannot be defined by just looks or words but more the freedom of life, life is beautiful in its own twisted way and to accept that definition is to be able to portray that in what you do. That’s why Taehyung’s art tends to lean toward a more dark and twisted form. When he creates art he’s not just looking at creating something nice to look at or something with a hidden meaning that no one would ever truly understand. When he creates, he wishes to express human emotion through his work—he wishes to make others feel things they’ve never felt before and that is the beauty he is chasing after.
Beauty is not a person but a feeling and when he looks at you he seems to understand that better.
It’s not just your outward attractiveness that draws him in. It’s the terrifying beauty that you radiate in your gaze, in your mannerisms, in your writing. It intrigues him and if he could put you on a canvas and unravel everything inside you — your fears, your joys, your tears — he would but till then you’re nothing but a familiar stranger that invades his mind when he least expects it.
“Taehyung, your work is beautiful,” his professor said, “Everything you create is effortlessly perfect but…”
He waited with a bated breath, already not liking where this was getting. He watched closely to the way she tilted her head in curiosity, “It’s rather dark, don’t you think? Maybe hard for interpretation an—“
“It’s not made to be interpreted by anything but the way it is,” Taehyung said boldly, “Once art is set for others to create a new meaning for it, is it ever truly art?”
“I guess I am not understanding what you mean,” she said leaning forward against her desk.
Taehyung released a sigh like this conversation with his senior was tedious, “When you look at Picasso’s work, do you think he created it for others to understand? Or was that something that people began to believe? He created art that was unconstraining to himself and his life.”
“Yes but look at Salvador Dali, the entire aspect of surrealism that he used was to unleash the power of imagination and creativity. You can’t just shut your art into a small box for the sake of aesthetic,” she said and that made him scoff, his lip curled in distaste, “And let’s look at Monet? He’s practically what started the entire idea of Impressionism.”
“What it meant to him, how he viewed it at that moment, that was all,” Taehyung said, which made the advisor release a sign, “Claude Monet once said, everyone pretends to understand his art, as if it were necessary to understand when it is only necessary to love.”
“I’m afraid this conversation will go back and forth if we continue,” she said with a huff, already irritated by the way things are going, “The exhibition is in three months, in a month I’ll connect with you on how everything is looking and give you the rundown as well is there anything else you need from me, Mr. Kim?”
Taehyung shook his head and without a goodbye he was getting up from his seat and storming out. Not even a second after the chestnut double doors shut, did he find himself reaching into the pocket of his jeans to get his pack out. The cigarette sat perfectly between his lips as he blocked one side with the hand so the wind didn’t blow his lighter out and he lit the tip, ignoring the ‘No Smoking’ sign just a couple feet away. He couldn’t help but mumble, “Stupid bitch,” under his breath once he finally left the building.
As he rounded the corner, something hit his chest and his free hand immediately the person steady in front of him.
Your hand was on his chest to keep from hitting him and as you looked up, your eyes widened just slightly. Taehyung didn’t say anything as he let you go, brushing against your side and moving around you to leave feeling your eyes on him. You watched him head the way you just came from and finally snapped out of it when you heard your friend call for you.
He turned to look for you seeing you already walking over to some tall and muscular guy. The guy gave you a dimpled smile as he followed after you, no longer in Taehyung’s peripheral.
“Maybe he has a point, Y/n,” Namjoon said as he walked with you to the bus stop, “If you’re struggling then maybe you should think about altering the character more.”
You shook your head in displeasure, “No, I’m not going to change him, I just need to be able to visualize his characteristics.”
Namjoon released a sigh as he pondered over what advice to give you, but came up blank, “I mean… maybe you just need some real inspiration from those around you. ”
The both of you went silent trying to find a solution and you looked up at him curiously. Namjoon would be an amazing reference for a character but he doesn’t fit the image you want him to. He was like light, he was kind hearted and charming and so unbelievably smart but that’s not how you envisioned the main character in your story. The kind of character you had in mind was supposed to act similar to… well, Taehyung. He’s supposed to be a bit mysterious, cold, not necessarily a likable character but someone they can’t help but be curious about.
“Namjoon,” you called his name and for a moment he grew hopeful to the idea that maybe you were thinking of studying him the way you do with others—even if he knew that would never happen. Instead, you came to a stop and looked up at him, “I forgot my laptop in the ffice, I’ve gotta go get it.”
His brows furrowed, looking down at your tote bag, “I’ll come wit—“
“No, you have to work, right?” You asked, already backing away from him, “I don’t want to make you late, I’ll just catch the next bus.”
Before he could argue, you were already taking off in a hurry back down the way the two of you came from. With a sigh he watched you leave wondering why he always seemed to be a couple steps behind you and never beside you. All he’s done since he met you was follow your lead in friendship and outside of it.
Even when the two of you had sex months ago it was always when you wanted and never when he did. If he even thought to ask, all you did was blow him off and then question him on if he’s seeing anyone at the moment. In the same second you would press your lips to his cheek and remind him how much you adored him even when you blew him off he always found the act of it a bit poetic.
He loved you, but it’s a love unreturned and if he wants to stay by you, it has to be with him at the back of your mind and never at the forefront.
With that understanding, he had no choice but to let you go back toward campus walking across fallen leaves and dead branches while he went to the bus alone.
Your legs had taken off before you could even decide where to go and in the end you found yourself heading back the way in which you met with Namjoon—and also the way you bumped into Taehyung. You were never much of the shy type even if it appeared that way, your friends always said you were the selective type—only choosing who to be outgoing with and even then it was rare and required a lot of work to get to you.
They had it easy, Jimin was a childhood friend and Namjoon was in the same writing department as you but that’s as far as your circle went. Well, no, there’s Yoongi too but he’s a pianist and these days he’s so busy with lessons and trips to the orchestra, you barely see him.
Like stated, you were selectively social and right now, you were choosing to find Taehyung so you could formally talk to him. It took you about ten minutes of mindlessly walking through the courtyard to locate him and when you did, you came to a halt. He was just a few feet away now, cigarette between his lips, crouched down against the wall of some historic looking building with castle-like elements and you know he saw you coming when he turned his head and looked right at you.
That was the push that had you walking toward him and saying, “Kim Taehyung?”
“Yes?” He asked, looking you up and down, eyes unable to help themselves as he looked up from your legs to your face. You wore a black fitted turtleneck underneath a brown sweater vest tucked into a black skirt. You wore long 70s style brown boots and mesh tights too. Your hair was pinned back with a hair clip and pins and your ears were lined with simple yet pretty earrings. When his gaze finally met yours, he couldn’t help but take in the sight of you once more.
“My name is—“
“I know your name,” he said with a small glint in his eye, “Obviously.”
You didn’t pull away from his intense stare and watched him bring the cigarette back to his lips, “I thought it would be more appropriate to introduce myself.”
“Mm,” he exhaled looking down at the cement below his feet, flicking the end of the cigarette to let ash fall, “So what could I do for you, Y/n?”
He looked up once more and you bit your lip in thought, “If you are free, I wanted to see if you’d like to get a coffee with me.”
“I don’t like coffee,” he said, finally putting the thing out and standing up, “And it’s almost sunset.”
You blinked in surprise as he stood in front of you now but you didn’t back away, “Then we’ll just have dinner.”
“Thanks,” Taehyung swung his bag over his shoulder, “But I’m kind of busy, I’ve got somewhere to get to.”
He was already walking away to hide his look of surprise. He didn’t expect the two of you to ever really talk and he didn’t really know what to do. He ended up rejecting before he could even truly think it over. He imagined you as just a fantasy — nothing he could ever explore but that he could dream about. He just wanted to look and think about you but never know anything beyond what was on the surface—like a painting.
“And you can’t have a plus one?” You asked in your final effort to get closer to him completely unaware of what he thought of you. You watched him come to a stop, and for a moment you tried to imagine him contemplating. Taehyung turned to face you, “I’m not going anywhere fun.”
You stayed quiet as he went on, “And some might find it scary.”
It seemed like he was trying to warn you as if to let you back out of your own proposal but he wasn’t saying no and that was hopeful. You tilted your chin higher, “As long as you don’t plan on murdering me, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
That made the corners of his lips turn upward in an arrogant smirk, “Okay, Y/n, follow me.”
The walk wasn’t too far from the college but the college was already a bit on the outskirts of the city. All you saw were green, dying hills as autumn threatened to take over and it took you a second to understand where he was taking you until he was leading the way down a steep hill toward an empty and cold graveyard. It was a straight line of jagged tombstones and overgrown plant life entwined around them. There were clear dirt paths leading down row after row of old graves and a few Angel statues but nothing too bad, at least that’s what you’re telling yourself.
“I told you, you might be scared,” Taehyung said as he walked parallel to the graveyard toward a tree that stood tall along the sloping hill, “But this is the best view of twilight, if you want, I could walk you back to campus.”
“No, it’s fine,” you cleared your throat deciding to walk ahead of him so you could be the one sitting upright against the tree. Taehyung dropped his backpack a few feet away from you and began getting his things out.
You didn’t question him, only observed the way he carried on like you weren’t even there. It’s not like you minded, you didn’t have any real agenda to get him to spend time with you and frankly, you felt a bit relieved to see that he wasn’t trying to figure out what you wanted. It was unspoken the way the two of you seemed to think similarly and brought out your tools.
Taehyung didn’t say anything when he flipped his sketchbook open and found a charcoal he could use as he began to sketch without much thought into it. He even made himself comfortable by lying back, using the angle of the hill to help him not lay horizontally and he bent a knee up as a sort of flat surface he could rest his book on. There was a small breeze that carried through his linen shirt and brown trousers but he wasn’t much worried about himself.
He was more worried about you, who had asked to spend time with him but had no real plan to do so. He’ll admit, when he said no it was just on reflex from all the other times he’s out right rejected others before but he only thought it over because he’s been curious of you two. When you told him you would join him for a moment he debated saying no again because this was his favorite place to be to watch the sunset but it wasn’t all that normal. He even tried to warn you and offer to take you back when you saw the graveyard but you didn’t even seem to care when you sat down. Now that he’s looking at you up close, he can see the way your brows furrowed in concentration as you scribbled in your journal, already feeling inspiration.
It’s now that Taehyung is realizing why he’s been so curious. He finds you beautiful, he’s sure he’s mentioned that before, but he finds you beautiful in an unsettling way. Just looking at you seemed to send him into a wave of emotion like you’re exactly what he’s wished to create on canvas. Before he even knew what he was doing, his hands were working away to make another sketch, eyes on you as he worked.
“What are you writing in that little journal of yours?” He found himself asking after some time. The sketch was rough and yet it was so refined that there was no mistaking what it could be. It was a monochromatic sketch of you with your back against the tree, legs straight before you and your hair covering your face with the howl of the wind. Your hands looked delicate when you wrote and you looked so lost in your own work that managed to capture that same essence in his drawing.
When you first looked at him, your eyes went down to the pack of cigarettes he was now messing with and out of curiosity he raised it to you as if asking if you wanted one. Moving to sit forward, you took one and held it between your lips as he dug into his pocket for his zippo lighter, flipping it open and bringing it toward your face to light the cigarette. He watched curiously as you leaned back a little, took an inhale/exhale, and said, “I’ll tell you if you show me what you’ve been doing in that little sketchbook of yours.”
For some reason a small smile came to his face as he laid on his side using his elbow for support and reached over to hand you the sketchbook. You took it with a sense of excitement that quickly turned into disbelief as you looked at it. The back of your index finger hovered over it but never touched for fear that you would smudge it or worse—ash, and when you finally handed it back to him, wordlessly, his cold fingers brushing against sending a warm current down your arm.
At this exchange, Taehyung moved to sit up, not bothering to brush off any loose grass blades off his linen shirt and read over a short passage.
A certain coolness in his gaze that made him appear cruel.
A charming aura that seemed timeless, not modern but ancient like he was created from every classic literature known to man.
His gaze, his smile, his voice—all deep like red velvet.
The list went on, each short sentence followed by another in what one could assume was meant to describe him. He didn’t say anything either as he handed it back to you the same way you had done with his sketchbook. Neither of you were looking for critique or praise, more so acknowledgement of what the other had been doing and once you had it, it was enough.
Taehyung stared forward as the line of bright Orange finally vanished from the sky and a cool blue clouded it. The atmosphere shifted now as darkness began to swim across the sky and you both knew it was time to go. Nothing was said as you both stood up with your things and even less was brought up on your walk back to campus.
It wasn’t until you stood at the bus stop that Taehyung decided to ask, “Are you busy tomorrow?”
“No.”
He pulled out a piece of paper from the pocket in his trousers followed by a pen as he scribbled something down before handing it to you, “Meet me here at 8:00pm.”
You didn’t have to say anything for Taehyung to know you would show and he left without much of a goodbye.
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The place you arrived to at 8:00pm on the dot wasn’t exactly what you had in mind but it wasn’t much of a surprise either—it was a warm record bar. The one thing that did seem to surprise you was Taehyung’s choice in music where he preferred jazz over classical. The bar was dimly lit only by shaded, vintage lamps and the small yellow candles near all the booze. The walls were lined with vinyls and the deep mahogany trimming gave the record bar a sort of dark academic charm to it.
When you found Taehyung he was sitting at a small round table fit for two and he had a book in hand—The Picture of Dorian Gray. He wore his usual metal wiring rounded glasses and his dirty blonde hair seemed quite soft and full of life. The dark brown sweater he wore matched well with his tan slacks and you didn’t miss the way eyes would fall on him. It was this charming, educated college boy with a rich father sort of energy that radiates off him, but also the clear look of disinterest written all over his face and it made people curious.
You debated calling his name to let him know you were here but when he looked up in time to catch you walking his way, you were aware that he had been waiting for you and checking the door every couple seconds. Taehyung didn’t shy away from taking in the sight of you in an olive green maxi dress paired with a thin white cardigan tied together at the top of your breasts and below your collarbone. You wore black boot heels this time and when you sat down in front of him he couldn’t help but look at your face now.
“You’re late,” he said as he closed his book and set it to the side. You didn’t even bother to look at the Swiss watch on your wrist as you said, “It’s 8:00, like you said.”
“Yes but what I meant was 7:55 which should have translated to 7:45,” he said annoyingly arrogant as he slid a menu toward you, “As per the rules of a first date.”
His tone was serious as was his body language and yet you could see the hint of amusement in his attempt to hide a smile. You smiled softly, setting your bag down next to you, “I was unaware this was a first date.”
“So you assumed this was the second?” Taehyung had a teasing tone now, “I, personally, would not call an evening together at the cemetery a first date.”
“I do say, I’m a bit surprised to even know you consider this a date after we barely talked at all yesterday,” you said as a waitress came over with a customer service smile. Conversation floated between you two with ease.
“Are we ready to order?”
Taehyung looked at you but you weren’t all that hungry so he ordered a single slice of pastry for the two of you to share, “Yesterday was just to enjoy and accept the presence of one another, tonight is to communicate and learn.”
Taehyung never cared much for investing time into someone he was with, usually if he ever showed any interest in someone or was short lived. He’s not sure what would happen exactly but once the excitement of pining for someone romantically wore off… he just did not care anymore. There was too much to handle and he didn’t have time for any of it—not the clinginess, the crying, the whining. God, the whining got to him.
Why do you ignore me so much?
You’re always too busy painting to notice me?
Taehyung, I just want you to spend time with me.
It was the constant whining that he hated because they just did not get that he was completely devoted to his art and nothing else mattered as much as it did. Yes… maybe the small ounce of excitement he felt helped inspire him but… well he does not need whoever he slept with anymore.
The infatuation had worn off and he’s back to being alone again but now he’s a little too curious about you. Hence, why he asked you out first and in such a haste.
“Alright,” you said, “So then tell me something small, for instance, what time did you arrive? 7:45?”
“7:30 actually,” Taehyung said as he lifted his mug of hot tea to his lips, “I had business to take care of around campus and I didn’t want to make the trip back home.”
“Well if you asked for my number I would’ve arrived sooner.”
“It takes away the romantic aspect of waiting for the other to arrive without hearing from them—maybe I’ll write you a letter instead,” he teased. You just laughed softly and asked, “I didn’t peg you as much of a romantic. And what business?”
“Nothing too important.” Taehyung said vaguely and despite your curiosity you didn’t push him to answer. The corner of his lips raised as he looked at you, looked at him and found himself saying, “But as for being a romantic? It depends on who you ask.”
You focused on what he said about that instead of what his business was and that made him happy. What he did was not that important but it was necessary after what had happened with his advisor. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around what she had told him and in the end he made and impulsive decision to gift her something that might make her see things from his point of view. Of course it was slightly biased but he believed his piece really explained his views on beauty enough for her to understand.
Taehyung delivered two paintings to her inbox earlier. The first one was a more finished painting of you, still slightly distorted and a bit dark but there was no hiding the romantic element that radiated off of it. He called it ‘Genuine Beauty’. The second painting was a distorted and bright picture of his professor with exaggerated features that weren’t pleasing to the eye and he called it, ‘Beauty in the Eye of the Beholder’.
A true sentient on what he thought of her words. He wanted to know how she would twist the grotesque image of herself into something beautiful.
“What have you been up to aside from writing me?” Taehyung asked, looking at you with interest.
“Aside from that, I’m afraid not much else,” you confessed, “I’ve been in a sort of dry spell trying to understand my character.”
“Tell me about them.”
“Well, it’s a him and he’s similar to you.”
He listened closely to each word you said, taking in the curve of your mouth when you talked and the way you gestured with your hands. He’ll admit, the character did seem very similar to him so he can understand your curiosity in him and the fact that you seemed to lose yourself in your craft didn’t go unnoticed by him. He simply nodded his head and replied with short answers when asked.
In the end, he offered the only thing he could, “Let me be your case of study then, and in return you’ll be mine.”
You smiled this time, a small arrogant smile as you said, “Will you paint me like one of your French girls?”
He understood the reference and found himself saying, “If you write me like one of the lovers in your poems.”
By the end of the night you found yourself in the back of a taxi driving straight to his place under the pretense of another drink. Conversation seemed to flow with ease between you and it ranged from Davinci to Monet, Shakespeare to Milton and whatever was in between. Even when Taehyung asked such a heavy question, you didn’t seem to struggle to find an answer.
“Do you believe in love?” He had asked as the cab stopped in front of a house similar to an upstate New York townhome. He had you by the hand helping you out of the car and held onto you as he led you up the stone path.
“I have to, I’m a writer,” you told him and he seemed to pull you into him more.
“But what is it that you believe it to be?”
The question did make you think a little bit. It’s not that you thought Taehyung had an ulterior motive in asking you such a thing; it’s not like the two of you were seriously into the idea of it but you wanted to give him the right answer—one that truly described you and your ideals.
You didn’t answer his question right away as he let you into his home which was no different than what you imagined it to be. His apartment was in an old building turned into luxury Victorian styled apartments with modern eclectic touches. It was a put-together mess of sketches and canvases littered around the place. The floor was made of a dark, polished hardwood and his furniture all seemed worn through with velvet cushions and engraved wooden trimmings. He had floor-to-ceiling bay windows with twine hanging across them and papers clipped on with laundry pins to dry. There was a warm feel to the place and it had everything to do with his dedication to earthy tones and shades of Morocco red.
There were painting supplies everywhere from scattered charcoals and cans of linseed oil for his paints. There were stacks of literature books and various art ones piled high on nearly every surface and yet it all seemed to be organized to what you could assume only he could understand. Taehyung didn’t even seem to mind the clutter as he chose instead to ask, “Red or White?”
“Red.” You responded quite simply before resuming your studying of his place, the fireplace on one wall was surrounded by canvases and books—same as the vintage bookshelf and for a moment you wondered if his bedroom looked any similar. The thought vanished quickly when you got the smallest hint of which room that might be from the open door down the hall. He had plain gray sheets on an unmade bed and the furniture in there was scarce, like he barely spent any time there and if he did it wasn’t to sleep—the bags under his eyes told you so.
“Have you thought of an answer to my question yet?” Taehyung asked, reminding you yet again of what he asked earlier. He handed you a wine glass and you took it with a nod in gratitude as he left you to find a record to play.
“I’ve had an answer all along, I just wasn’t sure how you would feel about it,” you said and you could see him smile as he moved the needle over the start of the vinyl, Nocturnes, Op 9 began to play.
“I’m not looking for anything in particular, just an insight on what you think,” he said honestly and with a small sigh you decided to tell him.
“I think love is more so… a choice than an emotion?” You finally said as you watched him take a seat on the floor near his coffee table instead of the velvet couch behind him. He motioned for you to join him, “How so?”
“Anyone can feel love at any given moment but it is fleeting,” you sat down, knees nearly touching his, “Tell me, have you ever felt in love before?”
Your question seemed to catch him off guard yet he answered as bluntly as he would regarding anything else, “Only with my paintings.”
“And that had been a choice, to continue, right?” You asked, “Love like every emotion is temporary and inconsistent. Yes, doing certain things or being with certain people might invoke these feelings but once that has dwindled it is your choice to remain in that constant state of loving something—or someone. I love writing, I always have because it is my choice. I choose to subject myself to the hardships that come with my work even at times where I think I hate it. Even at times when I choose to give up I think about the joy it brings me, the emotions that pour out of me and onto every letter and word I put down on paper. I choose to love writing, I choose to devote myself to it and I choose to put it above anything else in the world, even my own relationships.”
Taehyung could see it in your eyes how strongly you felt about it. Your answer had gone slightly off topic but he understood your reference to it in every word you spew, “So when I say I believe in love… I don’t mean it in regards to a feeling that transpires throughout inconsistently, but I mean it as a choice to continue to feel that way even when it hurts and I can’t take it any more.”
A silence seemed to drag on between you and for a moment you wondered if you said too much and sounded too stupid. Taehyung seemed to inhale and exhale at once, “Well, I do say, we have very similar ideals. I don’t think I could’ve put it into better words than a writer even if I tried.”
You couldn’t help but smile, hiding it behind your wine glass, “Maybe you’ll paint them instead.”
“Maybe, I’ll paint you instead,” Taehyung said with a pale yet serene expression like he was scared to speak his words and exhilarated by them all the same.
How could someone seem to get lost and sound so dazed when talking about writing? Did writing mean as much to you as his art did to him? Is that why there was never a need for many words to be spoken between you? Was that why he was able to enjoy your presence so long and so quickly when before you would never even speak? Was there always this underlying connection between your minds and how you viewed art and your world?
You rested your glass on the table as you took in his living room again and all its character, there was a set of paintbrushes just laying on his table and you reached for one. The wood was smooth between your fingertips as you twisted it before looking up at him with a curious gaze, “With one of these?”
Taehyung simply nodded his head watching you lift your skirt up just enough to expose a bit of leg and you brushed the art tool against your calf, “It’s soft.”
His tongue ran over his lips and he leaned forward to gently take the brush back. You were nearing an apology for taking it without asking him first but he simply scooted closer to you on the blanket he laid beneath you and placed your legs over his, skirt of your dress rising even further until he was running the brush over the curve of your knee, “I use it to blend shadows, like this.”
The brush felt soft against your skin, sending tingles down your spine as he ran it over you in circular motions, eyes on yours.
“I tried painting once,” you said as his finger slowly traded with the brush until he was softly touching you, “I wasn’t that good, I couldn’t portray the right picture.”
Taehyung just smiled as he felt you hand go over his while taking the brush back until you were tracing the curve of his wrist, “Paint with your words, and show me you’d write me, like your character.”
“He is very similar to you,” you said, “In almost every aspect and I didn’t realize that until today.”
“Mm,” Taehyung hummed in content when you lifted the brush toward the collar of his unbuttoned shirt, teasing him without realizing it. You seemed to use the brush against him without much thought of what you were doing and how it affected him. You should know, though, that the feel of his art tool against his skin would feel good to him. The soft bristles tickled his collarbone, “How would he make love?”
That seemed to catch you by surprise as you slowed your touch to look up at him. He just bit his lip, hand on your leg caressing it as he waited for your response. Without missing a beat, you said, “Slowly, starting with a sweet kiss.”
A small smirk came to his face, one that only he could pull off without looking cocky. He looked smart and pretty with his glasses and blonde hair, when he spoke he made it sound poetic and when he looked at you it felt like he was focused on whatever was beneath the surface. You watched him push his glasses up the slope of his nose and before you knew it, he was leaning closer, lithe fingers coming up to touch your chin and tilt your jaw.
Although you knew what was coming, there was no denying the small second of hesitation that coursed through you when his lips so tenderly pressed against yours, his voice low as he asked, “Like this?”
You licked your lips despite the extremely small space between yours and his and without the ounce of hesitation from earlier, your hand came up to his neck where you pulled him into you for a real kiss. It started off slowly just like the two of you knew it would but there was no denying the desire that laced throughout it. At first all that happened was your mouths moving against each other, getting used to the idea of kissing — something neither of you have done in a while. Then, it became more feverish. If possible, you seemed to move closer with your hand on his thigh to support yourself. You were on your knees leaning into him and he had a single hand against the floor to support his sitting position while the other was cupping your chin for the best angle. There was a growing intensity between your mouths, lips moving more forcefully now, saliva gradually increasing when you felt his tongue make a swiping motion against your lips.
“Or like this?” His voice had become more hoarse with need. He enjoyed feeling the way your body seemed to lean toward his and he seemed to ask, “What would he do next?”
“It’s not what he would do next,” you said as you moved without your own violation and trailed your lips along the curve of his jaw, “But what would happen to him next.”
Taehyung’s head seemed to tip back as he used both of his hands to keep him upright while you moved between his patted legs to kiss down his neck. He licked at his lips, slowly blinking at the first feel of your tongue licking his ear lobe before you sucked it into your mouth making a tingle run down his spine. Your warm breath tickling his ear made his breath bitch and it didn’t take you long to realize that you had found his weak spot. Unable to help yourself you brought your mouth back to his for a kiss that was much needier than any of the ones prior.
“Y/n,” Taehyung’s throat was dry and it made his voice raspier than usual, “Touch me more.”
The words surprised you. You didn’t take him for much of a womanizer but you didn’t think he would seem this touch starved. The last person you had slept with had been your dear friend, Namjoon, and when you realized feelings were beg bring to get involved you were to end the rendezvous that had transpired between you two in an effort to save the friendship and his feelings. You couldn’t explain why you could never see him as more than a friend—and you couldn’t explain why it was so easy to view Taehyung as something more. Your mind had been drawn to him before your body and yet it all felt the same.
You began to crawl away from him and in an effort to keep this going, he went after you with another kiss before your hand touched his chest to keep him in place. It got to the point where Taehyung wasn’t sure if it was the cashmere brown sweater he wore that made his body heat up, or if it was being too close to the fireplace but he felt himself begin to break into a sweat.
He stretched his legs out before him when he got the hint of what you wanted to do watching you shimmy down until you were nearly eye level with his pants and the evident bulge becoming more prominent with each passing second. Taehyung was not ashamed of how quickly you seemed to get to him and his body’s reaction to you. Sex was a normal thing, it was poetic and passionate if done with the right person and he hasn’t done it in a while—a long while. It was completely normal for him to release a light gasp when your hand grazed his inner thigh just inching toward his growing erection.
The two of you made eye contact once more, his lip caught between his teeth and his eyelids low in a lustful gaze that matched your own. There was a strong attraction toward each other — infatuation if you will — and you can’t say there’s romantic feelings between you but there’s no denying that there has been the underlying sexual tension that rose from a clear understanding of each other’s devotion to your work. It turns you on to know he seems to connect with your ideals.
You didn’t even realize Taehyung had moved a hand behind you until he was pulling on the back of your head to drag you back into a needy kiss. Your hands had already gone toward his slacks and you had been unzipping the front as the two of you made out once more. Taehyung’s hand fell back to the ground with a groan as you yanked at his underwear making him lift his hips enough for them to come down with his pants. A small hissing sound left his lips as his hard dick finally made its appearance, springing free of its right confines, hard enough to already angle toward his navel.
Taehyung was not ashamed by the way his stomach caved in with a deep breath at the first feel of your hand wrapping around his tip spreading the beads of precum that had already dribbled out the slit. His tongue was in your mouth, sliding against yours with you swallowing each groan he let out when you began to stroke his length slowly from base to tip. Like earlier, when you tried pulling away from the kiss to catch your breath, he was following after you to stop you from breaking apart from him.
A thin line of drool connected your mouth to his as you finally pulled back, biting down on your lip. He watched you look down at his exposed member, leaning down until you were face to face with it. His long fingers curled around your hair, slowly pushing your head down just a middle until he felt the first tender lick of your tongue along his tip. Taehyung’s entire body reacted to the way you tentatively licked his head teasingly making a small shudder travel right through him.
You have to say, Taehyung has one of the prettiest dicks you’ve ever seen and you just couldn’t help but want to savor it. It was just so pretty and you found yourself wanting to play with it some more. Your hand held onto him at his base as you ran your tongue down the side of his length lathering it in drool to aid your closed fist.
His brows scrunched together as he attempted to watch what you were doing. He could feel your hand jerking him off as you teasingly kissed up his side and tip, tongue swirling around his slit that leaked precum. He just couldn’t see you over the bulk of his sweater.
With an annoyed huffed, he released your hair to pull at his sweater with one arm as he brought it up toward his chest and tucked it under his jaw. Just as he had it fixed, a low and deep sound vibrating in his chest feeling your lips finally surround his tip, sucking gently before relaxing and taking more of him inside. You made yourself relax so you could loosen your jaw enough to accommodate his length as you began to suck him off, tongue licking along the bottom side everytime you bobbed your head up and down.
You had a firm hand on his upper thigh as the other was at his base against his pelvic bone to hold his hips down and let your mouth do all the work. His sweater slipped from under his chin making him groan as he threw his head back, “So good.”
He kept his gaze on the ceiling taking in the feel of your warm and tight mouth taking his cock so deeply. You looked up at his stomach trying to see his face but with the way his head was tilted back, you just couldn’t. All you could see was his chest rise and lower with each breathy sigh he let out, ducking his cock deeper down your throat.
Unable to help yourself, you moved your hand to his navel, feeling his breathing better and he needed to see what you looked like with his dick in your mouth.
He held the end of his sweater between his teeth as he stared down the expanse of his torso to where you laid between his legs swallowing around his cock with a dark look in your eyes that had him muffling a moan.
His hips bucked helplessly into you making you swallow more and more of his length till you couldn’t breathe properly anymore and needed to get off. The hand you still had on his dick began to stroke him, wrist flicking on each upward stroke to make your palm run along his slit while you caught your breath. You watched him in complete awe, he was so hard and his balls tightened against that you couldn’t help but lick between them.
"Fuck," the sweater made it hard to hear him as hw sank his teeth into it feeling it begin to moisten annoyingly so bur he was not going to miss the sight of you kissing below his cock to his balls.
When you finally decided to take him back in your mouth there was no slow build up, it was quick and sudden as you took him down your throat to the point where you gagged around him. The way he bit into the sweater looked like a restraint and he looked so pretty with the fire reflecting off his tan, bare chest and his blonde hair was just a knotted mess from how often he shook it.
“Y/n, you feel so good,” You were never much of a talker during sex, especially if it wasn’t genuine and just superficial dirty talk but he sounded so good moaning your name even if you couldn’t hear him properly.
There wasn’t much warning aside from the incessant moaning that fell from his lips and was swallowed in cashmere for you to know he was close. His hips bucked messily into your mouth, cock twitching with the need to just let go and when you met your mouth with your fist jerking off the rest of him… he just couldn’t take anymore.
Taehyung’s head fell back with a dry moan as the urge to cum got the best of him and he let go in your mouth. You didn’t seem to mind either, once the surprise of the suddenness had worn off, you didn’t hesitate but to try and swallow as much of the thick semen as you could, not at all bothered by the taste of it. Taehyung had to let his sweater go to breathe heavily through his parted lips as he used his elbows to sit himself up in the blanket, trying to understand what had just happened.
“Mm,” you hummed, proud of yourself for making him cum down your throat and you sat up to look at him. Taehyung met your eyes with his feeling heavy with need as he licked his dry lips before forcing himself to sit up properly so he could drag you into a deep kiss. You released a light mewl in surprise, kissing him back eagerly with his hand below your ear on your neck guiding you to angle your head one way while he went the other.
There was not a single part of him that felt bothered at the taste of himself on your tongue, if anything it only made him want you more so he could repay you for treating him so well. Once you had gotten lost in your little makeout, it was easy for you to follow his lead as he moved over you to get you to lie down in his place. The only time he pulled away from you was to finally free himself from the confines of his stupid sweaters and kick off his pants the rest of the way. It didn’t take you long to get what he wanted and you hurried to remove your cardigan feeling the straps of your dress begin to slip off your shoulders. Taehyung dragged you to him, kissing along the exposed skin of your collarbone and shoulder, hands sliding down your back till they could inch the dress down and off of you, making you take it off through the bottom so he wouldn’t have to pull away again.
Your bra and underwear were made of a thin crème colored lace that looked pretty against your complexion and soft between his fingertips as he ran his hands over your covered breasts that had been taunting him all night.
A quiet gasp left your lips due to the way his lips kissed down the valley of your breaths, soft hair tickling your neck. Taehyung’s hands held onto your sides, sliding them up to the end of your bra, feeling you arch your back into his affections until he was able to move them under your to grab at the clasp. Once he was able to unhook it, he tugged it off your arms letting you throw it to the side and dragged him into another kiss when he cupped your bare tits in his warm hands, using his thumbs to rub over your hardening nipples.
“Taehyung,” you whined softly against him, eyes on the ceiling when he began to leave love bites along your neck, traveling his wet mouth lower and lower down your stomach.
“Hm,” he hummed in acknowledgement, making his way between your legs while his hands groped your chest loving the softness of your skin under his rough painter’s hands.
As Taehyung slipped further between your legs till his face was near your spread legs, he looked down. The lace underwear was transparent enough for him to see just a bit underneath and he could see a small shadow of slick over where your cunt should be. He tried to look up at you through his blonde fringe and you sat forward enough to brush it back, smiling as he pressed a teasing kiss against the hood of your clit over your underwear. You lied back down letting yourself relax feeling his fingers hook under the hem of your panties till he was tugging it off and move your thighs over his shoulders so he four fit snugly against you.
Taehyung didn’t waste time teasing you, he had already been so turned on that not even cumming down your throat was able to calm his raging hormones. He just wanted to have you as soon as he could, any way he could, and that meant with his tongue stiffening as he parted your folds around him before licking flatly toward your clit. A light moan left your lips as your clit immediately reacted to stimulation, a small gush of slick pushing out of your pussy with arousal. Taehyung was not inexperienced in the art of making someone cum undone on his to hue and that was becoming more and more evident with the way he made out with your cunt like it was your mouth.
“Oh my god,” you threw your head back, out of breath, as his tongue began to flick messily at your clit while hands slid further down your inner thighs until he was using his thumbs to pull your folds apart for him. You could feel your wetness begin to drip further down but he was quick to leave your clit and lap his tongue against your wet entrance where your arousal seemed to form a puddle at. With the way his thumbs kept you open, you felt everything.
Every now and then his thumb would teasingly push in just a little more than before, acting like he didn’t even notice he was doing it while he hungrily sucked on your clit, tugging it between his lips. His thumb was rubbing against your labia, pressing into it, teasing your entrance every now and then by pushing into it until he felt your legs begin to tremble around him. Unable to help himself, he got a big more rough, tonguing your clit with such effort that his head shook with eagerness, swallowing your slick and pressing his face into your cunt to taste all that you had to offer.
“Oh,” you breathed out shakily, hand sinking into his hair when he nosed at your clit, tongue joining his finger as he thrusted it into you, “I-I, oh god.”
“Mhm,” Taehyung nodded, urging you to let go of him and you had to bite your lip to keep from moaning. Your thighs tried shutting but his head didn’t let you and instead you pressed them against him making him groan with need, eyes nearly rolling as he doubled his efforts.
Your throat became dry as you planted heavily, hips bucking against his mouth until finally you felt the knot in your stomach come undone. His motions did not miss a beat in licking everything you had to offer as your orgasm came in a wave.
“S-so, good,” you breathed out tiredly feeling your pussy walls clenching around nothing and as much as you wanted to just be done, you needed him inside you. When he came up to kiss you, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him flush against you so his hard cock rutted against your wet pussy. The taste of each other on your tongues was what made it easy for you two to want to keep going without the thought of repercussions. His hand slid between your sweaty bodies to hold his cock, lining it up with your entrance, bumping into your clue as he refused to break away from the kiss.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close as the two of you looked at each other with such need, such want that your lips didn’t spend too long apart from each other.
Your tongue met his just as his cock met the inside of your pussy, taking it slowly as he stroked himself with your slick to ease himself in better. His dick was rock hard, and your pussy was so fucking wet he couldn’t help but moan into your mouth as you took him in.
Taehyung has to hold onto you with a hand on your waist to keep you from sliding away from him too much as the blanket wrinkles on his wooden floor. He had his other tucked by the side of your head looking down at you lovingly as he finally began to thrust, “Tell me if it’s too much, love.”
“Mhm,” you said softly, legs falling apart even more to accommodate his as he dug his knees into the floor so he use his hips to fuck you better. A groan left his lips at the expert roll of your pelvis against his taking more and more of his length inside your tight walls.
“You make me feel so full,” you moaned gently into his ear as he dropped his head down against your neck to try and ignore the fact that your pussy around his dick without any protective layer between them felt so fucking good. You were already so close and he’s barely started. He fucked you slowly but firmly, getting himself used to being inside you and sucking on your neck, his hand left your hip to cup your breast once more and you gasped when he pinched your nipple.
“So tight,” Taehyung breathed out heavily with a single touch thrust that had your walls tightening around him, “So good for me.”
He did it again, and once again drew another moan out of you, repeating his thrusts more roughly than before until you were moaning out a string of his name.
Taehyung was well endowed and you never doubted that for even a second. He knew how to have sex, not just to fuck, but to have sex. It wasn’t just loud groans and rough thrusts. He was sensual, he kissed your neck, whispered sweet words of praise in your ear, touch your body as he fucked you almost passionately—unlike the usual guys you hook up with.
“It’s like you were made for me,” Taehyung groaned, brows scrunched together in concentration as he pulled back to sit and swing your right leg over him to press against your left until you were nearly lying on your side. He laid down next to you, curving his body against yours and lifting your leg back and held it up with his knee as he fucked you from the side. His lips were against your ear, whispering, “Just for me, like my own creation.”
“Mhm,” you hummed, “Just for you, please Taehyung, I’m so close.”
You looked straight out of a vintage erotica film. His apartment was warm due to the fireplace and comforting because of the classical music playing. The moon looked over you as you had sex, nearly love making, lying on your sides with his body cuddled into yours, fucking you with his cock while groping your breasts in his hands. You had to angle your head back and then your neck to kiss him and he swallowed your mouth with his, thrusts getting tougher as he curled around you, “Me too, love, all for you.”
“So paint me,” you moaned, fucking back against him.
For a moment he wondered if you meant on a canvas, or with his cock in your pussy, but he realized he would gladly do both if you let him. Your hand slid back to guide his hips into yours, “Cum, Taehyung, inside me, please.”
“Oh god,” a low growl left his lips as he dug his face into your hair, “Fuck, Y/n, d-don’t tempt me.”
“Do it,” your hand came up to his hair now, dragging his head toward yours until your lips met in a messy kiss, “I’m going to cum, Tae, please.”
It wasn’t a good idea. You were on the pill but he didn’t know that, all he knew was that he wasn’t wearing a condom and he wanted to fill you with so much cum that he painted you white.
“Mhm,” he moaned when you tugged on his bottom lip between your teeth and his hand pinched your hips, “Cum, Y/n, please—oh fuck.”
The only thing that came from you two was the sound of skin slapping as the urge to cum overtook you both and you were fucking like rabbits in heat. Nothing but animalistic grunts left him as he finally felt the flood of release you let go around with him with a whine of his name and before he knew it, he was cumming.
You immediately felt full with his release as it joined yours, cock pulsing inside you as he waited a moment to reel his emotions back in, sweaty forehead pressed against yours, “So good.” He hugged you closely, breathing heavily into your neck, softly kissing your skin affectionately.
It took you both some time to regain awareness of what had just happened and you lied on the fur blanket he had tossed on the floor. The fire sizzled behind you and some classical song [you were ashamed to admit you didn’t know] was playing. Taehyung seemed to be more in control of himself now and reached up to his small table in search of his pack. Once he had a cigarette between his lips, he lay back down next to you to catch his breath, pressing it to yours next.
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There was a sort of glow to your skin, your eyes shined with the night sky reflecting through the windows. Light came from the fire not far behind and a small dim lamp in the corner yet the moon was still casted over you two.
His eyes traced your features once more and before he knew it, he was saying something unexpected, “She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.”
Despite the way your heart seemed to stop, your brows furrowed, “What?”
Taehyung took another drag of his cigarette, “Who wrote that? ‘She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen’ I read it somewhere… ‘With stars in her eyes’.”
Your eyes seemed to widen as you thought it over for a second. A sense of realization flooded you but even knowing you might be right, you still shyly asked, “Virgina Woolf?”
“Yes, I believe so, ‘She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, with stars in her eyes and veils in her hair.’ I read it years ago,” Taehyung stared out at the moon through the bay windows, “Anyways, it just came to mind, and reminded me of you.”
There was a cloud of smoke drifting into nothing like they were his words being absorbed all around you. After that a silence seemed to fill the room and it was so calming in fact that you found yourself lulled to sleep against his chest.
It wasn’t until hours later when you had woken to loud noises, did you realize that he had not had the luxury of peaceful post-sex sleep.
The first thing you had noticed in your haze of sleep was the sky still blue out and the fire still crackling behind you. The second was that you still slept on the floor and Taehyung was not beside you anymore. It took you some time to realize all the noise that had woken you up was coming from him and his quick brush strokes.
Taehyung had a pair of jeans on and a smock. He didn’t even bother with a shirt, just slipped the smock over his bare chest and he sat on the floor with a pallet full of paint in his hands as he did soft strokes on his canvas. He was so focused that he didn’t seem to mind his glasses which had slipped down to the tip of his nose, lips slightly parted in concentration and eyes bouncing around his painting.
You wondered what this meant for you. You didn’t know what time it was but the way he worked so diligently didn’t even make you want to stay, what if it would bother him? You don’t want to do that and he seems to have already forgotten you were there and what you had just done. With a small sigh you looked around for all of your things, finishing getting dressed and in search of your shoes and bag.
Taehyung’s strokes were fast and agile, he didn’t even have to think of how he was painting, he was just moving mindlessly and mixing all the right colors and blending in all the right places. You took a seat on the sofa trying to put your boots back on.
“What are you doing?” Taehyung asked but his eyes never left the canvas. You could barely hear him over the sound of the record player still playing and it took you a second to know he was even talking to you.
You looked up curiously, “Um… it’s late, I should probably go, I don’t want to disturb your work.”
You were very understanding actually. There are many times you’ve woken up in the middle of the night to write and you didn’t waste time on thinking of anything else while doing it so if Taehyung was the same about his painting then you didn’t want to bother him.
Taehyung pushed his glasses up with the tip of his brush as he finally looked at you, “You won’t disturb me. Stay.”
He watched as you brought your lower lip between your teeth in thought before saying, “Seriously Tae, I don’t mind leaving. You’re working, I understand.”
“But I mind,” Taehyung said in his deep voice that sounded even deeper this late with the fire in the fireplace still crackling and Beethoven’s String Quartet No. 14 playing in the background. You didn’t say anything for a moment and he ran a hand through his messy hair, a small paint streak coating a strand, “Won’t you stay, Y/n? I’ve been in a slump and right now it just hit me all at once and I think it’s because of you. Please, won’t you stay?”
“Can I watch?”
Taehyung did not hesitate to nod his head and motion for you to sit on the floor next to him so you moved quickly to do so.
By the end of the night you watched him paint until dawn with your head resting against his back adoringly. His brush strokes were hypnotizing and the way he captured the light perfectly had you in awe, especially when you realized it was a painting of you.
It inspired you the way he was so devoted to his work and it reminded you of yourself.
Your days carried on as usual after that night with Taehyung. The only differences being ones that involved him. For instance, he has called you a couple times —he’s completely against the act of texting. It’s never anything major, usually to ask how your day has been or to get coffee. There was no sign of an actual relationship but it was close to it.
Today you had your shared anatomy class and he sat next to you instead of behind you like he normally would.
You’re not very fond of the fact that he’s distracting you more than you would like him to but it’s something you can’t explain. Your pen scribbled away in your yellow page notebook with word after word just piecing together effortlessly. Taehyung was utterly fascinated by it all, sometimes you wouldn’t even look down but your pen seemed to never fully lift off the page. You filled page after page in the three hour class, eyes on the professor but nothing you wrote down had to do with what he was teaching.
Every now and then you would look over at him and your eyes would meet, he would raise a brow and you would give him a smile, before looking down to write.
“I don’t think you heard a single thing he said today,” Taehyung said once the two of you made your way out of the lecture hall side by side. From the way you stared off into space, lips moving every now and then as if mouthing silent words, he knew you weren’t listening. He doubts you meant to ignore him but clearly you seemed to be in your own world right now, just thinking about writing and writing and he gets it.
You weren’t thinking of anything else, and he knows this because he had to grab onto your waist and pull you back to keep you from walking right into the pouring rain just outside. You seemed to snap back into reality and looked around, “Did you say something?”
Taehyung was opening his umbrella for you, pulling you under it beside him, “I’ve written notes for you, you seemed a bit distracted to take them yourself today.”
Your eyes slowly widened in surprise as it finally dawned on you that you had spent the last three hours doing nothing but writing about him. You came to a sudden stop and he waited there beside you with the rain pounding on his umbrella. With a small sigh, he let go of you to rummage through his bag with his free hand and took out his notebook, “I wrote two of everything.”
“Taehyung,” you said, “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know,” he said with a shrug, “But you were so lost in your writing I didn’t want anything disturbing you. I had no problem with it, I’m a fast writer and a good listener.”
“Thank you,” you finally began to walk again now that you couldn’t bear the cold standing in one place, “I am bad at focusing on anything else when I write.”
“I understand,” he had to speak up so you could hear him over the rain, “And if you do not think I would be a bother, maybe you’ll let me watch you write more?”
“You’ll get bored,” you said as the two of you walked toward his car, a vintage Chevrolet Corvette that belonged to his grandfather.
“Watching you?” He asked, holding the door open for you, “Never.”
Your apartment was how he pictured it—books and papers scattered everywhere. You were still much neater than him but not by much, clearly the two of you focused too much on your craft that it’s completely taken over everything.
Your place was small yet spacious and well furnished with vintage chairs and mahogany bookshelves. There was a slight clutter of books upon books and dead plants that didn’t get enough sun with the curtains closed. It was warm and had your lovely scent. There was a stack of papers on a desk next to a laptop and an expensive looking typewriter.
There wasn’t much of a conversation going on between you, the last time you said something to him was when you asked him if he needed a drink. Your back was to him and he spent about an hour or so sitting alone on the daybed as he drew in his sketchbook.
After some time when you finally decided to join him, you were exhausted and physically drained. You lied down with your head on his lap looking up at him when his hand began to caress your cheek. “Taehyung.”
“Yes, my love?” He asked with his gaze meeting yours. The name just slipped and he didn’t care to take it back, only watched you curiously still waiting to hear what you would say. You blinked once, “I think I’m beginning to understand better.”
You had been writing nonstop for a long time but for the first time it felt like you finally understood your work.
There was no way to explain it but these interactions with Taehyung—your living reverie—have opened your eyes to his character and the way you wanted to write him in the first place. He was everything you had been searching for.
He leaned back, startled by the sudden way you sat up, hand around his looking at him, “You.”
“Me?” Taehyung asked with his hands on your waist, shifting you more on his lap, “You understand me?”
All it took was one nod of your head for him to be pulling you into a kiss meeting you halfway. He had a hand on your chin, angling your head opposite of his letting the kiss deepen, soon he was tracing the curve of your neck with his jaw. Every ounce of lust and greed poured out in his fingers when he touched you.
It didn’t take Jungkook long to realize something about his friend seemed different. He was used to Taehyung isolating himself when he had a wave of creativity. There would be days on end where Jungkook would call only for every call to be ignored. He would even write his friend letters but he never answered him. When he was back to normal, Taehyung would look tired like he hadn't eaten or slept in days.
Right now, Jungkook sees Taehyung but he doesn’t think Taehyung sees him. Despite sitting across from him, he wouldn’t look his way. Instead he was staring out the large windows that overlooked the courtyard
“Have you eaten?” Jungkook asked, looking up from his sketchbook. The two had been on the second floor of the library this evening studying classical art techniques. Jungkook had gotten bored and began to sketch up an idea for another sculpture while Taehyung drew someone he couldn’t recognize. His friend didn’t even so much as flinch and give any sign that he was listening.
A small scoff left his lips, “Taehyung.” With an annoyed huff, he reached for his sketchbook and watched with a confused expression, “Who is this?”
It was quite detailed despite how little time he had to draw this and Jungkook was in awe. For a second he wondered if this was original work from Taehyung, all created from his mind but as he followed Taehyung’s gaze out the window, he realized it wasn’t.
It was you.
You sat on a wooden bench facing the swan fountain and there was a book in your hands. Jungkook couldn’t make out the book but seemed to have all your attention because you stopped every now and then to highlight something then jot it down in a notebook. There were powder blue headphones on your head and you were in a red lace long sleeve top with roses embroidered on and under was a white shirt. The black skirt you wore reached below your knees with a slit on the side that exposed your boots and over it all, you had on a black coat. He’ll admit, you did look rather captivating against the dead green of the lawn and trees paired with the foggy sky from days on end of rain.
Taehyung seemed to have found his newest muse and it was all he could think about.
“Are you still interested in her?” Jungkook finally asked, catching the way a small smile seemed to fall on Taehyung’s face—something he rarely got to see despite how easily he gave them to you. Jungkook did recognize you in the drawing better once he got a good look at you. He had almost forgotten seeing you weeks ago when he was with Taehyung, but he had certainly forgotten his friend’s knowledge and curiosity of you.
“Only a little,” Taehyung said, ignoring the way Jungkook looked at him with disbelief. He was used to his friend having a sudden infatuation with a certain person but they were short lived and always ended with the poor girl crying about how cold he was—Jungkook knows because he was always there to pick up their broken pieces with a night in his bed [Taehyung never cared].
“She’s hot,” Jungkook said, half teasingly to read how his friend would feel. Taehyung merely gave him a side glance in acknowledgment but the smile he had for you had tightened as he looked back outside.
“It’s that guy again,” Jungkook pointed out as they both watched outside, “What’s his name?”
Kim Namjoon.
Taehyung was used to seeing him around throughout the years but he never had a need to pay attention to him before. Like most of those who he sees in passing they never become more than that—just a passing blur that he doesn’t care to know a single thing about. Namjoon used to be one of the ones he ignored until he heard you mention him once or twice.
“Who knows,” Taehyung said, shifting his gaze down to his sketch pad avoiding the sight of Namjoon and you now standing like you had somewhere to go.
Jungkook, the ever curious and procrastinating, kept watching you just out of sheer boredom. The library had gone dark aside from the few kerosene lamps scattered across tables but it was already getting hard to see his sketches properly so now he’s just waiting for Taehyung to finish.
Suddenly, all too suddenly that it made him jump in his seat, Taehyung was standing, shoving his things in his bag loud enough to create an echo in the cold library. Jungkook looked up at him, pencil laying limp in his hand now, “Are we done?”
Taehyung pushed his chair into the wooden table, not bothering to look back at his friend as he stormed off, “Yes.”
Not long after he watched his friend make his abrupt leave from the library… he saw him now approaching you and Namjoon.
You were blissfully unaware that you had been watching through the windows of a library as much as you were unaware of Taehyung coming up behind you as Namjoon talked. “I was thinking maybe we could go catch that new movie that just came out.”
“Oh, I was going to do some writing—You won’t believe it Joonie,” your tone changed so suddenly as you grabbed him by the arm, jerking him toward you excitedly carrying on like he hadn’t said anything, “It’s like I can’t stop writing, you wouldn’t believe how easily the words are flowing like… I don’t know, I’ve never felt this way before, Joonie.”
“That’s good, Y/n but,” Namjoon’s words slowed down as he looked behind you at the looming figure standing a few feet away. He’s never spoken a word to Kim Taehyung despite both being grad students, he only knows of him from what others have spoken and he’s very… cold. Since when did you and him begin to talk? Namjoon took your hands in his as he pulled you closer to have your attention knowing you still didn’t know who was behind you, “But it’s nice to get a break, you don’t want to overwork yourself.”
“You don’t get it, Namjoon,” you said his name instead of the affectionate nickname you’ve always called him, he couldn’t help but look at Taehyung who pretended like he wasn’t watching closely with a cigarette dangling between his fingers, “I can’t stop. I cannot stop. If I-I do, I don’t know.”
His gaze shifted behind you making you turn to look too and your eyes seemed to soften as you made eye contact with the dirty blonde you’ve been spending time with lately.
“Y/n,” Taehyung’s deep voice spoke as he stared at you two, “I thought you would be busy writing”
“I’m on my way to right now,” you said, taking a step toward him with your back to your friend, “Would you join me?”
A smile came to his face as he pushed his glasses up, “If I could paint you again.”
You stood still in thought. The first time he painted you was after you had sex for the first time when it felt warm, passionate and hungry. He never slept that night, he stayed up the entire time getting the right blends of pigment on your body as it lay on the flue blanket completely nude. You’re not sure if he knew what saying that would make you think but from the way his brow raised questioning made you think he did.
Namjoon felt his jaw clench, eyes glaring at Taehyung who didn’t even bat an eye in his direction. You looked back to Namjoon now who waited for you with a bated breath. You walked up to him making his heart face as you pressed your lips against his cheek with your softly brushing against his jaw. The kiss was tender on his face and when he looked down at you, you gave him an apologetic smile, “Will you call me?”
“Will you answer?” Namjoon asked but you weren’t beside him anymore. You were next to Taehyung who took your book bag off your shoulders and put it over his, a hand grazing your back as he talked to you but too far out of your friend’s ear shot.
“What did your friend want?” Taehyung asked.
“To see a movie but I have to finish what I’m writing before it slips my mind,” You said moving your hand to his bent arm walking alongside him, “I’ll have to catch up with him another day.”
He didn’t have anything to say to that but you could still feel his eyes on you. A part of you wanted to ignore his gaze because you find yourself at a loss for words any time he looks at you that way. It’s like he sees through you not at you and sometimes you don’t know which one is better.
There’s no denying that he likes the look of you, he finds you attractive and not just physically. You know that. You just can’t tell what he’s thinking that makes him look at you that way.
“Namjoon.”
He stood alone where you once had been beside him, just watching you leave with the art major he had no idea you were even involved with. Since when did you begin to talk to him and how did Namjoon never notice? Did you just decide that you would not be open with him anymore?
“Jimin,” Namjoon looked at his friend, a bit stunned, “Hey.”
The ballerina watched after you alongside him now as he asked, “Y/n is leaving with Taehyung?”
“Are they together?” Namjoon asked suddenly, “Did you know?”
Jimin shook his head no, “Not exactly, I mean, Y/n never hid the fact that she had a thing for Taehyung, I’m just surprised to see them leave together. Y/n never told me they began to talk.”
Namjoon bit his lip nervously, “You don’t think they’ll date or anything, do you? This just seems sudden.”
He looked to his friend for some comfort but all Jimin did was shrug his shoulders and say, “I don’t know, you know Y/n doesn’t really date and neither does he, they’re always too focused on writing or painting to think about anything else. Who knows, they might just work out because of how similar they are.”
“Yeah but…” Namjoon was trying to find words to say but nothing came to mind. Maybe he was just being bitter… he’s been your friend for years. He’s always been there for you anytime you needed him without question. You were attracted to him enough to sleep with him but was that all it was ever going to be? You won’t see him as more than just a friend but then Kim Taehyung comes along and suddenly you have no problem walking away from Namjoon to go with him?
Jimin looked at his friend apologetically, he sympathized with him. He’s known you for longer than Namjoon has and he’s been through this exact same thing before too. There was a time when he thought you and him were the closest until Namjoon came along and suddenly you spent all your time with him instead. Now Namjoon is experiencing what Jimin did but this time because of Taehyung and he feels bad for that.
“Look, I’m going to be honest,” Jimin tried to work out what he was going to say so it didn’t come off badly, “I think, Y/n loves the idea of Taehyung on paper… how she can write or create him like she’s done with you and I in the past. I think maybe it’s nothing past something superficial but at the same time…”
“At the same time,” Jimin repeated himself with a bated breath, “I see a lot of similarities between them especially when it comes to putting their work first and maybe that’s something they seem to understand about each other that we don’t.”
Namjoon didn’t get it.
So was it not that you two had feelings for each other?
Was it not that you might love each other?
Was it just that you two understood each other?
He doesn’t get it. Now, Namjoon might not understand your obsession with perfecting every aspect of your writing… but that didn’t mean he didn’t love you. He loved you a lot—more than he assumes Taehyung could love you.
It’s not like it’s a secret, Namjoon has always been open about the way he felt about you so why did you choose someone else? All because he couldn’t understand you the way Taehyung might? Is it because he can’t just look at you and know what you need the way Taehyung can?
Is it because he doesn’t spend hours missing sleep or eating just so he could obsess over his work too?
How could Taehyung possibly understand you more than he does?
::.
okokok this was kinda long but I’m sorry, blonde Taehyung as an art major was doing it for me 🫶this was a romance but also not necessarily bc the focus isn’t entirely on their relationship 🤒neither one of them are supposed to be super likable so if you hate them and the way oc did Joon and Jimin dirty i get it 🫡but they just genuinely do not think about anything but their craft.
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