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nnight-dances · 11 months

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REPETITION / RARE LOVE

pairings: kim mingyu x fem!reader (ft. yoon jeonghan)

genre: fluff, angst, suggestive & sexual content

tropes: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers (except mingyu's the only idiot), pining, flirting

warnings: explicit language, banter, alcohol consumption, borderline jeonghan slander but it's okay because i would die for the man, has been proofread by me once but only barely. kazuha (le sserafim) is your roommate, huh yunjin is present.

WHAT TO EXPECT

it's simple enough: you and mingyu are perfect for each other. you've told him as much but after years of him avoiding the topic, you leave him alone. but when your long-time infatuation with jeonghan gets rejected, you have nothing to distract you from your desire to be with mingyu. all it takes is you making out with the wrong person and a can of beer for mingyu to come to his senses. (about 11k)

OR: maybe you don't hate repetition as much as you claim to.

SEQUEL OUT NOW!

“why are men on tinder actually vile?” you question out loud, not quite expecting an answer as your eyes continue to read the offensive opener you’d received from a recent match. mingyu, who’s crouched on the desk across from you, frowns.

“y/n, we’re meant to be studying,” he points out, “but also i thought you were over tinder?”

you look at him blankly, “i am! i just gotta finish what i started you know…”

mingyu looks deeply disappointed in you and you slide your phone across to him, “look at this message i just got! it’s disgusting! i don’t need to know if someone’s wet at the thought of—”

“god, y/n, do you have to scream?” he asks as he takes hold of your phone, busying his fingers probably with blocking the guy. you momentarily look back at your screen where the black document meant to be the outline for your final art history paper taunts you.

you sigh, looking down at your phone when mingyu returns it. “i paused your account and deleted the app.” you sigh yet again, “man! if you were gonna uninstall it without my permission you should’ve just deleted my account.”

“you’d just make another one anyway,” he shrugs, “plus, this way when you go back you’ll remember why you left in the first place.”

you grumble something under your breath but resume your attempts at writing. mingyu smiles a little as he goes back to his own work. a beat passes before, he puts his pen down again and when he sees you’re staring at your screen distantly, he asks, “did you talk to jeonghan yet?”

you gasp at the mention of your years-old crush, glancing around you as if you weren’t in a private study room (because apparently the only way either of you could get anything done was while talking to each other). “what?” mingyu continues, “one of us had to address the elephant in the room.”

“wow, you’re just the worst friend ever, aren’t you? it’s like you can’t read rooms at all. i clearly did not want to talk about jeonghan.”

“well, now you are. so you might as well be honest with me. did you think about confessing to him?”

you deflate, stomach suddenly uneasy, “no. i don’t think i will. i don’t need him to know.”

“you kinda do. y/n, look at me,” mingyu knocks on the wood to demand your attention, “it’s the only way you’ll ever have an answer.”

“i don't want an answer.”

“…”

"because i'm going to move on from him!"

"..."

“okay, well, i’m starting to! just watch me, okay? i have the agency to not be completely consumed by my very shallow attraction to a very attractive and impressive man.”

“right. you just used attractive twice in a sentence— and no, i don’t care if it wasn’t the same form of the word, you absolutely hate redundant things. and yet, you refuse to recognize the way out of this pattern of yours.”

“you are so tiring, mingyu, you know that? exhausting, even. i don’t want to do this anymore.” you shake your head at him, suddenly invigorated to finish this damn preliminary proposal of yours.

—

yunjin cackles as she plops down across from you in the dining hall, finding you scrolling ever so dedicatedly on pinterest. “what’s this?”

you look up at her with a pout, “i need a dress for hoshi’s little party. it’s in two weeks and i have zero options.”

“fuck, i knew i was forgetting something,” she grimaces in her typical huh yunjin way and shifts closer, “i need to find something for that too. can’t just wear a corset and call it day since he’s labelling it a formal and whatnot.”

“he really is the worst,” you agree, pausing to muse over a pretty white dress with red roses all over it. “hmm, what about this one?”

yunjin tilts her head and nods as she looks between you and the dress, probably imagining you in it. then, you sigh, “it’s just i don’t think red is my color like that.”

you’re about to elaborate when you hear a gasp from behind you, “that is simply not true!” you don’t have time to react when a figure slides in next to you. goddamnit, it’s jeonghan, you realize, trying hard to keep it together when his shoulder comes to sit next to yours. “you absolutely fucking rock the color red.”

“i do?” is all you can muster as yunjin chokes out a badly covered laugh. you glare at her, “what’s funny, jen?”

“hah, nothing, i agree with jeonghan, you’d look lovely in red.”

you frown, unconvinced as you scroll some more, feeling dizzy from jeonghan’s presence.

“preparing for hoshi’s party i presume?” jeonghan asks and you nod. “i’m so stressed, i have nothing and it’s approaching so fast.”

“you have time though,” he reassures but you’re quick to protest, “i’m not going to have any time next week because we’re organizing that night flea market. i’ll be running around campus so i need to take a trip this week.” the beauty of going to a college with an isolated campus: peace and you gotta plan every time you leave campus because there’s a singular bus that takes you to the city. it’d be a whole day trip for you if not for mingyu, who thankfully has a car that he can drive.

“ahh, tell me when you’re going into the city, y/n,” yunjin pats you, “i gotta go too.”

you nod and then remember, “right of course, i just remembered kazuha saying she wanted to come too.”

“nice,” yunjin approves, “we need all the opinions we can get. did you get mingyu to agree to drive you yet?”

“i texted him earlier but he hasn’t replied, which is slightly concerning because he may not know how to spell but he does write back very fast.”

jeonghan chuckles, “mind if i join you guys too?”

you stop in your tracks, turning to face him, “you wanna come shopping with us?”

he nods, that sweet smile of his plastered across his face, “yeah, i could use a new formal outfit. i’m tired of wearing the same black suit to everything.” he nudges your side, “plus, you guys could help me out. i can never decide on anything all alone.”

—

“maybe i should just not go,” you groan with your head in your hands. mingyu rolls his eyes, slapping your back, “why would not go? if your problem’s with jeonghan, he should be the one to stay back. not you.”

you sit back up, staring at the eggs in your plate. beside you, mingyu chugs his glass of orange juice, and you lean against him. “god, i hate him so much. do you wanna go see if the playground’s free?”

“right now?” mingyu looks at the time. it’s 11 am on saturday, still an hour from the time everyone agreed to meet in front of mingyu’s car, which is conveniently parked right across from the playground. as if following your line of thought, he grins, “alright. but you finish your food first.”

you sigh, “okay, mom, i will.”

five minutes later find you racing mingyu for the best swing in the playground— months of visiting the place had taught you the first swing was the only one that didn’t creak too loud and experienced the least amount of bumps during the ride. mingyu’s fast but you’re stubborn so you reach out for his arm midway, sticking your nails into the skin, knowing how dramatic he is about these things.

he gasps, “DO NOT CLAW ME.” strong as he might be, he slows down to rip your grip off. you seize the opportunity, getting a headstart and laugh when you reach the swing before him, sitting down firmly before mingyu can pull you away.

“that’s cheating, y/n, you know it!”

“hey, you’re the one that has an advantage. you go to the gym like eight times a week. i go like thrice a month.”

“sounds like someone’s lazy and whiny to me.”

you smile, “someone lazy wouldn’t win that race. and you’re the one that’s whining,” you point to his stance, his arms at his hips like an affronted toddler. he loosens his body with a pout as he walks over to the second swing. “whatever.”

time passes a little too fast for you two when you’re fighting like this because kazuha’s running over to you, breathless. “y/n! what are you guys doing?”

“zuha, hi! did you—”

“yep, i got your lip gloss.”

you chuckle, throwing your arms around her, “why are you the best roommate ever?”

mingyu scoffs, “what about you being the worst roommate ever?”

kazuha laughs, too nice to agree with him, “hey, that’s not true.” you hit him in the side, “you’re just jealous that you’re in a single. i guess money really does make people lonely.”

“i’d go for a double even if i was that rich,” jeonghan’s voice pops up from beside you. he sure has a knack for appearing out of thin air. “i couldn’t handle being alone.”

“not everyone can love themselves as much as i do,” mingyu shrugs, smugly as crosses his arms. “i’m self-sufficient like that.”

“if you guys are done, we should start moving,” comes yunjin’s voice from near mingyu’s car, “it’s already fifteen past 12.”

“i call shotgun!” yunjin shouts and you’re quick to fight back, “no way, i already called it.”

“if i didn’t hear it, then it doesn’t count,” she teases, leaning against the passenger side. you glare at mingyu, “i called it in front of mingyu! the driver is the one that counts.”

mingyu laughs at the petty fight, “y/n did call it earlier this morning.”

“that’s not fair! mingyu’s obviously going to take y/n’s side, you guys spend every breathing minute together. the rest of us don’t stand a chance.”

you smirk, “don’t be a sore loser, huh yunjin, you can call it when we’re coming back. if you remember to.”

“i hate you,” she mutters as everyone settles into the car.

“i’m open to music requests, dear friends,” you announce once you’ve started off. “but i reserve the right to reject any tasteless songs.”

“isn’t this the textbook example of a tyranny?” jeonghan breathes and you shoot him a look over your shoulder, “hey, the power comes with the seat. it’s natural selection.”

mingyu groans through laughter, “you know you don’t make any sense. just play some music.”

you roll your eyes, “he says as he laughs his fat ass off.”

“she’s just salty my ass is fatter than hers,” he mutters under his breath. the three in the backseat break into laughs at that, all at your expense as you gape at them. such betrayal.

“i don’t know why i call you friends. you’re monsters.”

kazuha pipes in, “y/n, are you calling your sweet roommate a monster right now?”

jeonghan is quick to join in, “honestly, i’d say kazuha is the nicest friend among us here.”

“fine, everyone but zuha’s out to get me right now.” the screaming continues for a little bit longer until yunjin and kazuha tire themselves out and pass out. you chuckle when you look at them, yunjin’s head bobs in the middle of the three until it hits kazuha’s shoulder, whose head then rests on top.

swiftly, you pull out your phone camera and capture the moment, sure to tease them later. as you’re clicking the photos, jeonghan’s face sticks into the corner with a sneaky grin and you shift the angle to include him. enjoying the attention, he shoots the camera a peace sign, followed by a little heart, and then a cheek heart and now he’s a bunny and then—

you pull yourself away abruptly with a shaky laugh, “god, jeonghan, this isn’t a photoshoot.”

he laughs back, “ha ha, sorry, i can’t help myself. it’s so fun to tease you like this.”

you feel the blood rush to your face at that, so you turn to face the road completely, a weak, “fuck off” on your tongue. mingyu silently observes the interaction, not without a little side-eye that you don’t know what to think of. “you should get some rest, y/n, you didn’t sleep last night.”

you frown, surprised mingyu knows that and you don’t get to ask him why he knows that because jeonghan interrupts, “you guys sure are close. i was talking to hoshi the other day, he misses y’all a lot.”

“he does? he can just come talk to us whenever though,” mingyu replies, doubt tracing his tone. “i don’t think we’re exclusive like that.”

“right?” you agree, “we used to be so close to hoshi, too, and then he moved to the other side of campus this semester and now i have like one class with him.”

“i don’t know,” jeonghan says, “you should talk to him about it, but there’s always been something stronger about the two of you together.”

you shrug, “we always end up together. it’s not that deep i think. it’s just how it is.”

the topic ends there as jeonghan agrees and dozes off himself too. you, however, feel eerily awake. awake? no, more like unsettled. something in your nerves is off and you feel on edge. you’re a little spaced out after that, as you finally reach the city circle with all the shops crowded next to each other with a little mall in the center.

as everyone gets off and gathers their things, mingyu pulls you aside with a concerned look, “are you okay, y/n?” his grip on your elbow grounds you a little. you inhale, knowing better than to pretend in front of him, “yeah, just a little uneasy. i don’t know why. probably just tired.”

mingyu looks like he knows something more about your condition, “are you sure? we can take a break at one of the restaurants before shopping if you want?”

“nah, i’m okay, don’t worry. i’m a strong girl,” you smile, reasurring him with a pat to his chest, “i feel better now. thanks, mingyu.”

he frowns, hand loosening against your skin, “you never thank me, weirdo. don’t be so formal.”

“man, there’s no winning with you, is there?”

he chuckles as he pulls you after the others, “no, i’m insatiable.”

—

an hour into shopping, you realize why you hate doing this. everything is so overwhelming when you’re in the city, so many people, so many clothes. at least you have friends with you as you scan racks after racks, ending up with three potential dresses on your arm. you mutter a prayer in your head that you can find something nice here so you don’t have to walk more. this is already your third store.

the first one is a classic: a little black dress. it’s satin so it sits smooth against your skin and feels soft when you twirl around. it’s a little short for your liking, perhaps too tight against your ass. you turn to the side to get a better look. you take a photo and send it to mingyu, who you’d been going back and forth with. he’d last sent you a photo ten minutes ago: him in a stupid minion onesie. you’d cursed him out real well in response telling him to stop fucking around. he writes back fast.

big gyu: u look good

big gyu: kinda basic tho

you: yea i thought so too

you agree with that, putting the dress aside in case you don’t find anything else at all.

candidate number two is more over the top: a long red dress with little black patterns on it, with a leg slit on one side. getting into it was a whole struggle but you get it on finally. it fits well thanks to the slit which also shows off some skin. you’re hot in it: like literally. the long sleeves don’t help at all. but you look good too, the flare doing wonders for your figure. you pause, sending a photo hoping mingyu would be of help.

however, when mingyu takes longer than a minute to reply, you groan, already sweating a little. concluding that he’s probably changing or something, you peek out your curtain, hoping yunjin was still in the stall next to yours. you call out her name, straining your neck to see if there was anyone else you could ask for help.

you spot jeonghan walking around the shelves near the fitting rooms and before you can hesitate to call him over, he notices your head poking out. he raises an eyebrow, sending your heartbeat into a spiral. “y/n? do you need help?”

you clear your throat, “um, yeah, i need a second opinion on this dress.” jeonghan approaches your corner and you panic when he reaches for the curtain to draw it back. his eyes question you, “can i look?” you let go of it to let him in, a tiny little rational part of you wondering he needed to come inside the room to see.

“ohhh,” he exclaims as he takes you in, “you look amazing. told ya red was your color.”

you turn away from him a little, “this dress is hot.”

“it sure is,” he agrees and you blush harder, “no i meant, like literally. i’m so hot right now.”

jeonghan presses his lips together, giving away the fact that he understands but being the little bitch he is, he chooses the option that makes you wanna combust. he presses two fingers to your cheek and mumbles, “yeah, you are.”

you push his arm off, “yoon jeonghan! you’re such a damn flirt! get out of here.” you force him out of your space and he’s uncontrollably laughing as he lets you. “i’ve another dress to try so wait outside for me.”

“sure you don’t need a hand changing—”

“no, thank you very much!” you scream, greeted with more pleased chuckling. your phone buzzes, catching your attention. you lean down to look at it.

big gyu: niceee thats hot

big gyu: u should get this dress

big gyu: pls

you: …girl why are u begging me

big gyu: because.

big gyu: you’re getting this dress right

you: no i’d die of overheating in it

big gyu: and it’d be worht it

you: i dont like how enthusiastic u are about this...

you: wtv this one's rejected.

you: i still have another dress to try

you put your phone down to try the final dress. this one was a purple slip dress with white flower detailing. it was skin tight against your boobs and a little transparent, giving away your black bra underneath. and to contrast, it sat a little loose on your hips which was honestly not the worst look, keeping from the dress becoming too scandalous. you enjoyed this dress the most so far. that was enough, given the track record.

“you done, y/n?” you’re startled when the voice outside is mingyu’s instead of jeonghan. you pull back the curtains in confusion, “gyu? what’re you doing here?” mingyu stops short, “fuck, i like this one.” you flush a little when you notice his eyes settle on your chest for a beat too long. “that’s stunning, for real.”

you laugh. “look at you using big words. but yeah, i think this is the one.” you look over at him, “did jeonghan leave?”

“um, yeah, he said he had to use the washroom when i ran into him on the way,” he mumbles. you nod, a little relieved because you think you’d die if he saw you right now. “anyway, i’m offended you were showing him your dresses and then all i got was a photo.”

“hey, you were taking so long to reply that i had seek someone else out. he just happened to be her.”

mingyu ignores that and tells you to hurry up, “i need your help choosing something for myself.”

“ugh, alright, give me five.”

in the end, you decided you’d get both the classic black dress and the slip dress, you needed more dresses in general. wouldn’t hurt to have more. when you’re done checking out, you find mingyu in conversation with kazuha who’s smiling with a shopping bag in her hands.

“zuha, you get anything?” you ask. she nods eagerly, “yeah! i got this pink dress that jeonghan helped me find just now. it’s really pretty, i’ll show you later in the room.”

you falter a little at that, glancing at mingyu who’d told you he went to the washroom. ignoring the growing unsettling gut feeling, you inform her you’d found something too. “nice, we should have a try-on in the room later.”

“you guys!!” yunjin joins the group, “this is insane. i hit the jackpot and found the sexiest green dress ever.” you laugh, linking arms with her, “you should come over later and try it on with us.”

“ah, the beauty of womanhood,” mingyu grumbles beside you, and you shove him. “you’re not invited, pervert.”

his jaw falls open, “excuse me? what did you just call me?”

you press an index finger into his bicep, “don’t think i didn’t notice you checking my boobs out earlier.” mingyu’s cheek redden at the light-hearted accusation, worsening when jeonghan appears right at the climax of the argument.

“okay, okay, first of all, i wasn’t checking anything out!” he complains, “and-and well, they—”

jeonghan cuts him off, patting his back with an amused smirk, “it’s alright, buddy, it happens to the best of us.” everyone laughs at that, much to mingyu’s chagrin who then becomes pouty for the rest of the walk to the next shop.

“c’mon,” you pull him into the store, “my turn to stare at your tits.”

“god, would you drop it?” he groans as he follows you in. “it won’t happen again.”

you giggle, “it’s okay with me, gyu, because that just means the girls look good.”

he groans again, “i really don’t need to be a part of this.” he wanders off into the store, embarrassed. you let him go, looking at clothes for him separately. turns out shopping for mingyu is harder than the concept of it sounds. it doesn’t help that he’s an expert at criticizing the small detail in every item you choose for him. half an hour later, you’re tired of him.

as if on cue, kazuha calls you to tell you to come over to an asian restaurant nearby to grab lunch. you thank the lords as you pull mingyu away, “there’s nothing here for me anyway,” he grumbles as you meet up with the rest.

entering the restaurant, you spot kazuha and jeonghan at a table nearby. yunjin’s still on her way it turns out as you sit across from them, heart in throat for the worst reason possible: you’re jealous. you may be down bad for jeonghan but that doesn’t mean you’ve lost your ability to take a hint. trying to keep the thought from completely forming in your head, you make conversation with everyone, wanting to be better than this.

you want to avoid thinking about it so you’re quick to shut jeonghan off. he’s his usual self, joking around with everyone but he picks up when you’re not as receptive as usual. you hope he just thinks nothing of it, but you know that’s not possible when he approaches you after lunch as everyone else is washing up in the bathroom.

you’re outside alone, waiting, when he slightly pushes your shoulder to draw your attention. you gasp lightly. “jeonghan?”

“can i talk to you for a sec?”

you frown, “yeah, you’re talking to me right now.”

“come on, y/n, don’t be cold. let’s go for a walk.”

“but, the others—”

“i let mingyu know we’ll be back in a few.”

out of excuses, you silently follow jeonghan’s stride through the busy street. he makes conversation really well, easing you up in no time as he distracts you from what was on your mind. it’s illegal how smoothly he then proceeds to drop the act.

you’re laughing about what he’d said about hoshi’s drinking habits just now, when he suddenly goes serious, “i think i like kazuha.”

you freeze up at that, fighting the frown that itches closer, looking at him like you didn’t hear him. heart’s out of control right now, but at least you were already expecting this outcome. “huh?”

“sorry, i just thought you should know. i’m really into her and i was planning to ask her out sometime this week.”

you would love to pass away right now. immediately, you think you hate jeonghan for doing this to you. it’s clear from his behavior that he knows you like him and that he’s apologizing— he’s rejecting you before you have a chance to confess. he likes kazuha. he’s going to ask her out. you should know that.

you sputter awkwardly, “that’s great! good for you, jeonghan. and um, you really didn’t have to tell me. i’m sure kazuha would love to be with you.”

you never want to speak a word to anyone ever again and you're sweating ever so profusely, so you speed up a little, “and we should get going, no?”

sensing your mood, jeonghan follows along but says, “i’m sorry, y/n. i- i know you…”

you don’t let him finish because it would genuinely kill you to hear him say he knows you like him. “you don’t have to be sorry.” with that, you essentially leave your body. you move fast enough to reach the car, wordlessly getting into the passenger seat and yunjin somehow knows better than to fight you.

the car ride back is filled with music. not much chatter. you realize it’s partly your fault and silently dread being back in the room with kazuha, but to your relief, when you reach she doesn’t bring anything up. you’re too tired to do a try-on like you promised and when mingyu asks if you want to come over to his place, you tell him you’re feeling sleepy. and for once, you actually sleep after telling him that.

sleep is not as much of a comfort as you’d hope for it to be: less of an escape, more jeonghan-themed content. something about heartbreak and living the rest of your life, lovelessly.

—

the next week starts off hectic and you’re thankful for it this once. you could use the chaos of organizing an event to take your mind off things. a small part of you wonders if jeonghan was being merciful by letting you down and timing it so well. knowing him, that doesn’t seem so impossible.

you feel better than you’d imagined you would. you cried like once since the rejection. you didn’t need to worry much at this point, having realizing that it was less important that you’d made it out to be. mingyu, on the other hand, doesn’t give up his worrying, especially when he doesn’t see you until three days into the week. and that, too, because he gave up and thought it would be a good idea to invade your room, at one in the night.

his knocking wakes you up fairly quickly, since you’d only put your phone down a few minutes ago. you rush to the door, afraid of waking kazuha up. “what the fuck, mingyu?” you ask at the sight of him.

“what the fuck yourself! stop ignoring my messages maybe?”

you groan, stepping outside your room, feeling the cold air hit you in your night clothes. “why’d you have to confront me so late at night? can we do this tomorrow? when i’m coherent and not half-naked?”

mingyu falter as if he just realized the time, noticing your tank top and shorts. “i don’t care. i’ll give you my jacket but we’re doing this right here and right now.”

you sigh, knowing this was coming. “forget it, keep your jacket. i’ll go change and be right back.”

mingyu grabs your arm when you try to go back inside, “how do i know you’re not just gonna leave me here to die?”

“dude, my room’s right here. you can come watch me change if you fucking want.”

he lets you go, flustered when you offer and you laugh as you rush back in. in the darkness, kazuha’s voice startles you, “y/n? is everything okay? are you being abducted?”

“oh god, zuha, you scared me. and no, it’s just stupid little mingyu who wants to have a talk. i’ll settle this. go back to sleep.”

she groans, “god, you guys are just like my parents sometimes.”

you laugh at that as you slip into a hoodie and exchange your shorts for pajamas. when you return, mingyu’s sitting at the stairs in front of your room and you hit him in the back.

“ouch! fuck you!” he stands up with a glare, “also i heard what you said about me. why am i stupid and little? can you just choose one insult?"

“let’s go down if we’re gonna argue. zuha can hear us, too. and did you hear what she said after that?” when he seems clueless, you go on, “she said we remind her of her parents sometimes.”

he coughs, “her parents?? what are we, married?”

you roll your eyes, “married and sick of each other, apparently.”

“being zuha’s parents doesn’t sound so bad honestly. she’d be the easiest child to raise.”

“i feel like zuha would raise you if you were her father,” you laugh, “me too, probably.”

“who’d be the father then?”

your smile falls when an answer occurs to you, you mumble, “jeonghan,” sitting at a bench outside your dorm. mingyu joins you, equally solemn now.

“did something happen between you two?”

“yeah. he rejected me when we went shopping that day.”

mingyu’s eyes widen, “what? you confessed?”

you shake your head, a strained smile, “he already knew. i guess i was obvious, but it’s still driving me insane that he rejected me without even giving me a chance to confess.”

“i can’t believe he did that. that’s conceited as fuck.”

“conceited or impressive, i can’t decide. but he told me likes kazuha and that he’s sorry. i genuinely wanted to die when he said that. he was cool about breaking my heart, too. lowkey fell a little harder for him.” you laugh at your own joke, but mingyu looks unhappy, jaw clenched like he’d tasted something bitter.

you hit his arm, “it’s not a big deal, dude. i was thinking about it the past few days and i realized i barely knew the guy. i just knew what he told me over the last year.”

after a pause, “and he’s one beautiful man, so there was that.” you smile a little.

“but he didn’t have to do it like that. he could just stop flirting with you, you know, or wait for you to come around and confess like a normal person,” mingyu says, “he’s such a little jerk.”

“hey, it’s okay, a little flirting didn’t hurt anyone.”

“yeah but he was leading you on, leaving you in ambiguity by doing that. he should’ve been flirting with kazuha, not you.”

“okay, now that’s starting to hurt,” you whine, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, “but i can’t really blame him, no? kazuha’s so precious.”

“don’t be like that, y/n.”

“what? be like what?” you look up, “didn’t you also used to be into kazuha?”

mingyu bites his lip when you bring his years-old crush up, “when will you forget about that? that was so long ago and it was barely serious. she’s too nice to be my type.” (what does that even mean? you wonder but don't have the time to ask.)

“sure, you didn’t want to change residence halls to be closer to her?”

“alright, how many times do i tell you that i did that because of you? why do you never believe me?”

“it just makes more sense the other way,” you mumble, suddenly feeling teary-eyed and hating that you were feeling teary-eyed, which only intensified the teariness in your eyes. “god, this is stupid.”

mingyu’s arm is around in no time when he notices you curling up, your lip tucked between your lips in anticipation, “hey, hey, c'mon, i thought you said it wasn't a big deal. so how come you're crying?"

“because! i feel lame. and because kazuha’s perfect, by the way. she’d probably cry too if she knew i was crying.”

he pulls you closer, “you’re not lame, y/n. you think i’d keep you around so long if i didn’t think you were insanely cool?”

you breathe through your tears, “you just keep me around because i’m insane?”

“insanely cool! open your ears, idiot.”

“you just called me an idiot. idiots are pretty lame.”

he sighs when he feels his tshirt get damper, your body so weak under his hold. he pats your hair softly, “sorry, that’s not what i meant. but seriously, y/n, you know i’m bad at saying this stuff but i seriously cannot stress enough how highly i think of you.” his hand moves to rub your back, “and you’re so much more than perfect, you know? like sometimes you don’t do a paper till three hours before and still get an A. and then, you come up with comebacks to my arguments in your own unique ways, and trust me, nobody can argue with me like you do.”

you pull away, “all right, now you’re embarrassing me. why do i sound like a bossy nerd or something?”

“you can be that at times. hey, but you forgot the part where you’re hot as shit. and also pretty.”

“i feel like that last part was an afterthought, mingyu,” you bite back a laugh, “you really only keep me around for my tits, don’t you?”

“dude, can you let me wholesome for once? i’m trying to console you, so would you stop playing devil’s advocate?”

“sorry, i’m just,” you hesitate with a heavy sigh and then, you blurt out, "i’m scared i’ll never fall in love. i’ll never find it at all.”

“now that’s some stupid thoughts you’re having,” mingyu shakes you by the shoulders, “you’ve just been blinded by your crush on jeonghan for so long that you haven’t explored anyone else at all.”

“are you volunteering to be my crush right now?” you ask, jokingly.

mingyu’s smirk catches you off-guard, “what if i am? it wouldn’t be the worst thing if i was your boyfriend.”

you feel yourself heating up a little for some reason, head in a daze from his earlier shower of compliments and now this. so instead of trying to make sense of it all, you press yourself into him in a hug. “yeah, it wouldn’t.”

—

“hoshi, you little shit!” you throw yourself around the guy when you spot him on the night of the flea market, the product of a long and actually insane week. he laughs when he realizes it’s you, pulling you into a hug, “bro, y/n, why is this my first time seeing in you in literal years?”

“i don’t know, i just kinda see you walking around sometimes. maybe if you actually showed up to econ class, i’d see you more.”

hoshi flinches, “you can’t be bringing econ up right now. that class is kicking my ass. i can’t keep showing up to that kind of humiliation.”

the two of you catch up at last, as people swarm around the different stalls set up along the college street. you were relieved after having finished this damn event. cheers to sleep, right?

hoshi tells you all about his new situationship with a guy in another class and how he’s regretting inviting him to the party tomorrow night. “why? believe it or not, people are more fun when drunk.”

hoshi rolls his eyes, “yeah, well, i couldn’t get any more fun. so instead i become incontrollable. an absolute animal.”

“right, i remember that. so you’re scared you’re gonna drive him off? i wouldn’t worry honestly. and if you want, i can keep you in check.”

he narrows his eyes in distrust, “you? you’re not much better than me drunk, okay? i feel bad for mingyu who’s gonna have to take care of you the whole time.”

you gasp, “wow, you’re taking mingyu’s side now? over mine? i thought we had something special.”

“you thought wrong,” comes mingyu out of nowhere, slinging his arm around hoshi’s shoulders.

“why are you here suddenly?” hoshi looks between the two of you, “i couldn’t not come to an event my lovely y/n herself planned, could i?”

hoshi laughs, “nice to see you two as jolly as ever. but also i must take your leave. i gotta go grab dinner soon.”

“hey, why don’t you come with us? we were gonna check out the new outlet the college opened.”

“oh, i would love to but i have plans with someone already.”

you nod your head in realization, “right of course, have fun. not too much, though. leave some for tomorrow.” he leaves with a full-toothed smile and you face mingyu.

he playfully pinches your cheek, “you confront him about missing us yet?”

you raise a shoulder in response, and as the flea market starts to fizzle out thanks to the darkening sky, your stomach grumbles. “let’s eat, please.”

ever since that night— you don’t want to say anything had changed between you and mingyu because your friendship had been long enough that even the slightest shift in dynamics would harmoniously just become the new status quo; the two of you had been through a lot together. but ever since that night, you’d been fooling around with him more, if that was possible.

it was along the lines of: less banter, more flirting? although one might argue that the former was just a derivative of the other. but semantics aside, this is what you know to be true: friends flirt with each other all the damn time.

that’s what you’re telling yourself when mingyu asks you to feed him some of the fried rice you’d gotten on your plate. and it was true: you’re almost a 100% certain that you’d flirted with every friend of yours, and that was just how it worked.

but intimacy came differently to everyone and mingyu’s just manifested in clinginess. he was pressed to your side for the entirety of dinner, and you couldn’t complain about the proximity. it was welcome, even, this form of friendship.

“you’re thinking too hard.” mingyu’s voice pulls you out of your little reflection session. “what’re you even thinking about? you should be all burnt out from all the work you did this past week.”

“i am,” you affirm, “but some things just don’t let up.”

he chuckles, patting your head affectionately as if to persuade your thoughts to let up for a while. it doesn’t help really, only gravitating the direction of the said thoughts toward kim mingyu even more.

“maybe repetition isn’t as bad as i always make it out to be,” you say, chin propped up against your fist on the table. mingyu had chosen a corner table of the newly opened eatery, next to a low window that glowed behind you in the remains of sunset as he shifted to completely face you. the sun had finally set. again.

“you’re right. routine is good for people.”

“but it doesn’t have to stay the same forever, you know?”

“hm?” mingyu can’t help but feel like you’re edging toward some underlying topic. you were like this since he could remember: you’d start off with some abstract and vaguely relevant concept (that had no doubt been plaguing you for a long time) and slowly circle around till he caught onto what you meant. you love playing games with him.

“repetition doesn't have to be redundant? i think there's something more subtle about it.”

he doesn’t know where you’re going with this, “but repetition is literally the same thing over and over?”

“yeah, but the ‘same thing’ itself can evolve,” your fingers knock against his, “i don’t know, i was just thinking about… us.”

“us? i guess we would be a good example of repetition.”

your gaze falls from his to find your hand instead, your fingers wrapping around his wrist until you’ve forced his palm open. his hand in your lap upside down, you pull at the fingers, “yeah, but we’ve changed a lot. for one, we fight a lot less. sometimes when i’m going to tell you a thought, you understand mid-sentence what i mean.”

“yeah, well, that’s what we get for knowing each that long. but really, what’s this about, y/n?” he captures your hand in his expertly, pulling your attention back to his face.

“do you ever think we should be more?”

mingyu breathes a laugh at that, a shiver running down his spine when he spots the solemn look on your face. and then, his smile turns grave. “y/n, we’ve talked about this before, haven’t we?”

“have we? every time i’m the one who brings it up and you kinda just shrug it off. no, don’t even try to argue with me. you shrug the serious stuff off. always.”

it’s true, mingyu admits in defeat, mind racing as he considers why you’re bringing this up now. the answer is easy: you were finally available. but he doesn’t say it out loud, like he never does. you’d confronted him about the state of your friendship before, unafraid to wonder out loud what it would be like if you started dating. you’ve received all forms of shut-downs from mingyu before so you figured you were the only one in an ambiguous place about your feelings for him.

if someone was to ask if you like mingyu, you’d probably say yes, but it’s more than that. you know better than to blindly fall for him. witnessing him in his relationships before, you know he can be ruthlessly cold to his partner once he’s out of love. you practice romantic love for mingyu: carefully because too much would definitely be dangerous.

“i have my reasons, y/n.” there it is. the strict mingyu. the rigidity in setting his boundaries was something you admired and aspired for when he exhibited it in the past. right now, you want to punch him.

you’re without a filter with him so it’s unfair when he treats you like this. you let him know as much: “i want to punch you right now. i’ve hidden nothing from you, and yet, there’s this wall you keep yourself behind. is this really one-sided?”

mingyu doesn’t know what to do with you right now, “y/n, why are you—”

“no, because it's not like i can't take a hint. so one minute you're flirting with me and then, you push me away like right now,” you point to his estranged fingers, “but then you act like nothing happened and go right back to being all intimate and touchy.”

“i just…” mingyu lets out an exasperated sigh, “i just don’t see the reason for labels. why do we have force ourselves into a restriction like that? we’ve always been above conforming.”

it’s your turn to sigh heavy enough your head hits the wall behind you. wasn’t this just his way of friend-zoning you back into silence? you’ve always been too embarrassed to push him this far because you don’t mean to hurt him. but you feel as though you’ve hurt yourself long enough now.

“so why’d you say that the other night? that it would be nice if you were my boyfriend?”

this leaves him speechless for a few beats and you continue, “that was just because i was heartbroken from jeonghan? you’re playing prince charming for me so i can go back to being your trusty little best friend?”

“y/n, you know that’s not true. i’m not playing anything in your life. i’m just being myself.”

you scoff, “you really are so fucking—”

“why are we actually fighting right now?” mingyu asks through an incredulous laugh, “this is actually so petty, dude, let’s stop. you know i love you, right?”

mingyu’s last resort makes its presence: a non-committal i love you. because at the end of the day, you’re still best friends. what was a little ‘i love you’ in today’s economy? nothing. especially when you’d hear him throw the phrase around all the time.

you stand up in defeat, “fine, let’s stop. you win.” you gesture for him to move to the side and he does so reluctantly when you glare at him like you’re genuinely mad. (you are.)

he follows you out the door, catching your elbow to slow you down. “don’t be like this. i know you’re mad at me.”

“i’m not mad. i'm tired and i just want to go back to my room,” you seethe, walking faster than him. he grabs hold of your shoulder turning you around.

“if you’re gonna storm off, at least go the right way.” you huff softly and let him steer you the right way to your dorm, hands still on you. you spend the way to the front of your room silently, waiting for mingyu to say something but he just does what he does best: take care of you.

as you reach the door of your room, he pauses, apologetic smile on display. “listen, let’s talk more tomorrow? get some sleep.” he reaches for your hair, tenderly running his fingers through the locks. there it is: the soft mingyu, his eyes wide as he stares you down for signs of stress.

his warm arm pressed againsts yours, you realize you don’t want him to just leave. you know the drill: tomorrow morning, he’ll text you to meet for lunch and everything will go back to being unsaid. maybe he’ll bring along seungcheol so you don’t bring anything up again. either way, it’ll be so natural you’ll think nothing ever happened. but you want something to happen.

so your hand settles around his bicep to hold on and partly to keep him in place. you lean in, “let me do one last thing and if you want to stop, i’m never bringing this up again. i promise.”

you don’t give mingyu a moment to react to your words and instead raise yourself up to his level, other hand on his chest, and press your lips to his. you kiss mingyu after the thirteen years that you’ve known him and the ten that you’ve wanted to. you counted the years just as you count the seconds that it takes for him to come to his senses and pull himself away.

he looks less upset than you imagined: more dazed. like he can’t believe what you’ve done. he looks at you with his lips parted and you have to tear your gaze apart, lest you should tear yourself apart with longing.

“y/n, i…” he looks away and that’s enough evidence you need. you step away from him, your easy smile back in its place, not before you pat his arm as it falls from you.

“it's okay. i understand. let’s be friends, mingyu,” you declare suddenly, catching him off-guard. you'd pulled all the stops and if he genuinely was uncomfortable with pushing the line between platonic and romantic, you would respect that.

he begins to say something but you don’t want to hear him speak, at least not right now when the sound of blood rushing to your head is the loudest it's ever been, and you certainly don’t want to falter again. you’ve decided. “good night."

—

mingyu should feel relieved. he really should be happy that you’re back to normal around him, friendly and playful like you’ve always been. he should count his blessings that you’ve accepted the status of your relationship with him as it is. but as he falls asleep that night, all that comes to his mind is the smile you’d sported as you asked to be friends.

it was all wrong: your lips against his, that was something of his dreams, not a reality he has to be escaping from. it replays in his head, your scent that he’d caught a whiff of now and then, whenever you’d wrap your arms around him. the heat of your skin he’d rationalize as the comforting presence of a friend for days later.

he’ll soon come to know how insanely stupid he’s being right now but until you knock some sense into him, he simply plays along with a sting he hides pretty well. he should, he’s been doing it for years now.

it’s the night of hoshi’s party already and he’s walking over to the location of the pregame, alone because according to a text fifteen minutes ago, you’re still not ready. you’d invited yunjin and some other friends to your and kazuha’s abode to apparently make the process easier, but if mingyu knows anything about the group, you’ve probably spent more time selecting the right song to play than get ready.

the door to dino and hoshi’s shared residence is already open as he strolls in, finding a group already on the floor, taking shots. he makes eye contact with jeonghan who beckons him closer and mingyu takes a seat next to him.

space is scarce so mingyu finds his arm pressed uncomfortably close to jeonghan’s, who oohs at mingyu’s fit, “ooh, you look positively sexy.”

mingyu grimaces, “do you have to put it like that?” he does look … positively sexy, mingyu admits, in the navy blue shirt he wore but— and here’s the punchline— with the buttons undone all the way to right above his navel.

“where’s y/n, by the way?” jeonghan asks, an eye at the entrance as he slides a shot glass toward mingyu. the question irks mingyu for obvious reasons and he keeps him waiting for a minute, waiting to down the liquid in glass (vodka unfortunately for his throat) to answer him. “um, she’s still getting ready. any minute now.”

“ha, that means she’ll be another ten. that’s a shame, i was hoping to pour her first shot.” jeonghan shrugs resentfully.

maybe the alcohol’s working faster since it’s been a while for mingyu, but his mouth runs faster than his head, “why’d you care? i thought you asked kazuha out a while ago.”

jeonghan raises a brow at that, “hmm. i did. but things did not work out so well. what with kazuha feeling guilty about y/n and… well, i also…”

“feel guilty?” mingyu asks, voice strained. he’s annoyed at having to listen to jeonghan’s side of the story. he could not care less about humanizing him and whatnot. he’s watched you suffer for far too long to be empathetic right now.

“yeah. and i thought i might like y/n, too, after all.” jeonghan says it so casually as if discussing his performance in a particularly challenging college course, not his feelings for a person who he’d recently rejected.

the word might pierces mingyu’s ears. the uncertainty behind it is in such stark contrast to his own… feelings toward you that he genuinely feels his breath heat up.

or maybe that’s just jeonghan when he leans over to refill his glass. “drink up, buddy.” mingyu’s just about ready to make a scene right now, shoving jeonghan’s hand off his back but suddenly jeonghan’s standing up, making his way to—

you. you’re here.

almost as soon as he catches sight of you, he looks away, pretending to give the vodka in his hand all the attention in the world, as he puts his lips to it and empties it. head is now light. that’s probably enough for now, he decides as he puts his glass down.

when he looks back up, you’re at the kitchen counter with yunjin and kazuha.. and jeonghan, who’s grinning as he hands out the bottles of fireball to the group, no doubt marketing it so convincingly that you’d think you came up with the idea yourself.

mingyu shoots to his feet, regretting it when his vision darkens but he pushes past, eyes focused on your figure— god, he forgot how hot you look in that dress. he tries to keep his thoughts in check as he approaches you, but it doesn’t help that your makeup’s even more meticulous than usual, eyes glittering and lips delightfully glossy.

he breaks into the space between you and jeonghan, arm against yours, catching your attention.

“my guy!!” you exclaim when you see him and then your eyes trail down to his chest and then back up to his face where his hair sits parted with the help of some gel. “you look like a slut. i love it.”

mingyu laughs, subjecting you to a similar once-over, “you’re one to talk.” your hair’s back in a bun of sorts, a rare occurrence because you seem to prefer have it around your face. he can’t help but pause at your exposed collarbones, the gold shadow you applied there earlier doing wonders to his already dazed headspace.

“is it already that part of the night where mingyu starts hitting on everyone?” yunjin complains, reserving the alternate version of her question (something along the lines of how impolitely he’d been eye-fucking you in front of everyone) for some other time as she nudges you to open the fireball in your hands.

you do so, looking at jeonghan who offers one to mingyu, which he refuses as he leans against the counter, hand silently at your back just in case. “you’re not drinking?” you ask, quietly enough only for the two of you, just in case he wasn’t comfortable sharing.

“nah, i just had two shots of vodka back there. trying not to mix for the sake of me tomorrow,” he mutters, patting your back encouragingly, “but let me know if you need help finishing that.”

jeonghan eyes mingyu on the side as the trio clink their bottles together and get to downing them. later, as things start picking up and more people make their way into the party, mingyu finds your arm. “do you want me to stay close by?” he frames the question in a way that you have an out, because he can tell that you’re still unhappy with him.

but you’re tipsy when your hand interlocks into his, “only if you’re going to dance like you mean it.”

the night goes better than you expect it to, especially since mingyu’s let loose for once. or perhaps… he’s always this carefree when drunk, palms kneading at your waist, keeping you close to his chest, which you try your best to not get too used to touching. he sure knows how to keep you on your toes (sometimes literally) even when wasted because you’re trying not to get too close. for you own sake.

that is until hoshi shows up beside you two, pulling you apart as he introduces you to a friend.. or a partner? you can’t hear in this state and just as you try to lean in closer to hear what he’s saying, you feel a presence at your shoulder, fingers poking you.

you turn to find jeonghan behind you, sloppy smile on his face as he screams something at you. you frown, asking him to repeat himself, hand on his bicep to steady yourself against the movement of the party.

“need to talk to you about something!” his words come at you, clearer. “right now?” you shout back, “what the fuck is it?” your body doesn’t want to stop moving so you groove against his side, and momentarily catching a glimpse mingyu’s heavy gaze on you. you almost completely stop then but jeonghan’s pulling you away, after him to a relatively emptier zone of the house.

you’re breathless, you realize, now that the spell of the music’s been broken. you rest against the damp wall behind you, uncaring as you look around for a liquid to quench your thirst. cunning as ever, jeonghan’s already handing you a plastic cup with a transparent liquid.

you narrow your eyes at him despite how wasted you are. “what’s this?”

he laughs, “i’m glad you’re vigilant as ever. this is water. cold. drink up.”

you comply, your throat throbbing ever so lesser after you’re done and you sigh in relief. “you might have broken my heart but you’re still an angel, jeonghan.”

“ahhh,” he exclaims joining your side against the wall. you frown when you take note of his fingers clasped together, almost fidgeting. yoon jeonghan, fidgety? that’s a first for you.

“actually, that’s what i wanted to talk to you about…”

when mingyu looks away from hoshi and his company to see if you were listening and when he finds out that you’re in fact in jeonghan’s embrace, he’s suddenly sober. and when your eyes find his for a moment, something in them changes and he calls out your name like a warning. but then jeonghan’s already leading you elsewhere.

mingyu wants to follow after you immediately but he realizes hoshi’s still talking to him. “hoshi, bro, can i find you in a while? i gotta make sure y/n’s okay.”

but hoshi stops him in his tracks, hand on his chest, “wait. please tell me you told her…?” he trails off uncertainly as mingyu catches on what he’s saying.

“i haven’t,” he admits, eyes still searching the crowd for you, “but i think it’s time that i do. only so much i can take.”

“that’s the spirit, man! okay, now go kiss y/n for me.” hoshi pushes mingyu with a start, not before the the latter shoots the man a glare and takes off in his search for you.

you’re still in that corner with jeonghan, who’s done narrating the past week’s revelations to you, all about his failed attempts with kazuha and his slow understanding of his real feelings about you. you’re far more unaffected that either of you was expecting, arms crossing in thought.

but then you say, “well, that’s fucking stupid. because i’ve realized i wasn’t as down bad for you as i once thought i was.” jeonghan’s smile falls a little with a disappointed sigh. “but,” you continue, “you know what i’m still curious about?”

when your hand creeps up jeonghan’s shoulder, he thinks he knows where you’re going with this. “i’ve wanted know if you’re really as good at kissing as everyone makes you out to be.” jeonghan’s already moving closer to you, enveloping your face in his hands, and his devilish grin’s spills out as his lips find your ear. “let’s find out?”

and that’s how mingyu finds you wrapped around jeonghan, making out like this was your last day living. and for a moment, he considers giving up and letting you have this. he even stops in his tracks in the crowd, his thoughts so easily drowned out by the music if he just lets go.

but his mind’s reeling when the sight of you kissing someone else just pushes him back a day ago when you were leaning up into him, soft breaths risking your lips against his and the way your body pressed into his just right. his feet move without a thought, then, shouldering through the bodies around the two in the corner.

you’re just pulling away from jeonghan to start to say something about how that wasn’t too bad when his body is lifted away from yours with an unannounced jerk. you gasp and then once again when mingyu’s face comes floating in front of yours.

“mingyu,” you breathe, unsteady from the series of events this past minute, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“what the fuck are you doing?!” he screams in your face, hands on both arms to keep you from moving. jeonghan’s walking to your side and you want to say something to apologize but you’re far too infuriated with the man in front of you to think.

“i don’t know! trying to get laid? finding happiness? love?!” you scream back with as much force. you call out jeonghan’s name, “i’m sorry. mingyu’s too drunk to—”

“jeonghan,” warns mingyu when the guy tries to break you free from his embrace, “can i have a minute with y/n.” it isn't a question.

jeonghan has the nerve to say, “maybe not. i wouldn’t leave you alone with her in this state.”

“oh, she’ll be just fine,” he replies and jeonghan simply looks at you for confirmation. but you’re still looking at mingyu, starting to tear up, head throbbing all at once. you stop fighting against his grip and mumble in defeat, “whatever.”

“if you’re going to lecture me about being bad, i don’t really want to hear it.” you’re back next to the kitchen counters with mingyu beside you. slowly, you sit yourself up on the surface, feeling exhausted. “i’ve heard it before.”

“no, that’s not what i’m doing. i just want you to stop and think clearly—”

you groan when you hear the beginnings of a typical you’ll regret this in the morning type talk, you slide off the counter and to your delight, you run into a guy holding up a can of beer for the taking. you’re quick to jump at it, grabbing it up from him and pulling the tab of the can open. just as you put the beer to your lips, ready to chug it, you feel it being pulled away, the next few moments occuring before you can comprehend anything.

suddenly you’re sitting back on the counter and your dress rides up when you feel mingyu push himself in between your legs. at first, you see his face close on yours and then the taste of beer meets your throat. no, it’s not just beer— it’s mingyu. his tongue spills onto yours, beer mixing with saliva and when you try to pull away, his hand at your neck tightens. you sit up straight and you feel his watch digging into your spine.

your head spins when you can finally breathe, inhaling only to cough out. heart in your throat, you look at mingyu in disbelief, “what the fuck!” but he’s already taking another sip of the beer and some of it slides down your throat into your dress, when his mouth finds yours again.

you’re weak in his arms, and the heat between your legs is only so rational. so you find yourself giving in and kissing him back when the liquid runs out, nails finding his scalp, earning you a deep groan that vibrates against your chest. that’s when he pulls away again, eyes finally meeting yours with an unprecedented intensity.

he leans in again, wet kiss against your cheek, followed by a grunted whisper of, “i love you so fucking much, y/n. it’s so hard to watch you run around with other men.”

you want to think you’re hearing things but mingyu doesn’t let you, another kiss right in the nape of your neck that sends shudders down your back. “i want to be yours so fucking bad. want to spoil you like you deserve.”

you swallow against the moan that rises in your throat, to pull mingyu’s face back to your eye-level, “then why aren’t you mine? why’d you push me away?” your voice breaks, betraying the pretense of indifference you try to prop up. his eyes soften, fingers brushing against your forehead.

his lips quiver and he sighs defeatedly. it’s a miracle you can hear him with all that noise around you. but you hear him clear as day against your hair when he finally says, “i’m scared. of loving you too much, of being too much. and i’m scared of losing you.”

mingyu’s imagined telling you these exact words before and how you’d react to them infinite times before but when you giggle into his collarbone, he pulls away with a blank look. your forehead is against his all over again and for the second time night you say, “that’s fucking stupid! if you were going to lose me, it would’ve happened a while ago.”

of all the things he’d imagine you saying in response, this was the simplest option, so unlike your usual overthinking self. maybe it’s the alcohol and adrenaline in your system speaking but mingyu somehow feels comforted, because maybe it really is that simple. it would’ve happened if it was going to. or maybe mingyu’s too drunk to make sense of it all right now.

so his lips are moving against yours once again, without warning, your breath all his when his arms tighten once against around you. you’re laugh grounds him enough to break away. you open your mouth to complain about the distance when mingyu’s back against your skin.

“shut the fuck up,” he groans, the command making you hotter than you’d like to admit. your legs close around his ass, pulling him closer and his hand slips across your boobs. the friction of his palm against the tight fabric of your dress makes you let out an undignified moan into mingyu.

that’s when he knows he needs to take you to somewhere more private for reasons more than one. you’re too lightheaded to move yourself so mingyu’s carrying out the house without a word anyone you two came with. it’s only when the cold air hits you that you realize you’re outside.

you struggle against mingyu until you're back on your feet and stop. “where are we going? i’m— do i know you, mister guy?” for a second, mingyu’s heart sinks when he wonders if you thought you were just making out with a stranger. then, you say, “i need to go back and find mingyu. gotta kiss him.”

ignoring the blush that colors his face, he grabs hold of your elbow, “i am mingyu, idiot. and we’re going to my room.” you shake your head to clear your vision, eyes widening when you recognize him. your hand finds his face with a light laugh, “ah! it’s my big guy.” the name doesn’t help mingyu’s condition at all, so he’s pulling you after him faster than before.

back at the party, kazuha starts panic when she realizes she’s lost hold of you, unable to locate you anywhere within the party. she tugs at yunjin’s sleeve who looks over in concern, “what happened to y/n? i can’t find her anywhere.” yunjin laughs at that, covering her mouth with her hand. “don’t worry about her. i saw her and mingyu leave together earlier. she’s probably in heaven by now, if i’m right.”

“hmm?” kazuha pauses as a thought pops up into her head, “wait… did they…?” yunjin grins knowingly, “yup. it really was high time they fucked.” the former lets out a satisfied giggle, “i know. they were so obvious without even being together. i was getting tired.”

“you were getting tired?!” you gasp at mingyu later in the night, panting against his pillow. you’re on your back and he throws you a tshirt of his to sleep in now that your dress is… demolished. you look at it sadly out of the corner of your eye. “i really liked that dress,” you whine, as he picks the remains of it up with a somewhat smug grin, “planned to wear it out again.”

“i couldn’t risk that. you looked too good in it,” he chuckles to himself as he jumps into bed with you. you sit up, feigning anger as you slip the cotton over your head, warming up when the smell of mingyu greets you. “i don’t know if i could resist seeing your tits out like that.”

you hit his chest hard with a lighthearted scoff, “i knew it! you’re such a pervert. not just a pervert, you’re also a brute.” you groan as you rub your thighs together gingerly. mingyu props himself up, pulling you down into a hug, rubbing your back. “sorry, does it hurt a lot?”

“it’ll hurt more in the morning,” you relax in his arms, pressing a loving kiss into his hair, “should’ve known you went so rough. asshole.” you giggle when he pulls away in disbelief at the last insult.

“how could you—!” you roll away from him, laughing. he shifts closer, caging you against the wall behind you, “hey, you can’t say stuff like fuck i knew you’d have a big dick and then expect me to go all vanilla! do you know what that does to a guy?”

you shriek in embarrassment, “don’t bring that up now!” your ears redden when mingyu forces you by the chin to look up at him. “besides, where do you think the nicknames like big gyu and big guy came from?”

mingyu’s jaw falls open at the revelation and you break out into a fit of laughter at his mindblown expression. “how- how long have you been thinking about my di-”

you hit him to stop him, “ever since you kept pushing me away,” you run a hand down his side, sly grin on your swollen lips, “and i had to come up with something if i wanted to get myself off alone.”

with an exasperated groan, he falls against you, suffocating you as his body goes limp above yours. you let out a gasp when you feel him hardening against your leg and he speaks into your neck, “you’re seriously telling me i’ve been missing out on taking you like this for… for how long now?”

you kiss his cheek, hand slipping down his boxers with a soft exhale, “a while. and if you hadn’t come to your senses today… well, i’d all but given up on you today. when jeonghan kissed me, i was just going to—”

suddenly your breath escapes you, mingyu’s hand around your throat and his lips on yours with a loud grunt. he stops your hand in its movements, “please tell me you’re not talking about jeonghan while— fuck!” he gasps when you bite his lower lip to protest his hand on yours. his hand gives way and you’re palming the tent in his boxers again, pushing him down against the bed, so thankful he doesn’t have a rooommate in times like this.

you place a kiss at the corner of his lips and trail down his chest, shirt long gone, before muttering, “forgive me?”

—

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

i really want to write a more wholesome ending but have not the time or energy right now, so i'll be back with a shorter spin-off/ epilogue of sorts about how you and mingyu as a couple work out, how your friends react, some skinship, etc.

anyway, this is my official announcement that i've become a baby carat :] didn't know how much i was missing out on before svt so this is very fun. so far, jeonghan's my favorite little guy, although as is clear from this... mingyu makes me do things. on the roster are: minghao and joshua. hopefully there will be more svt fics in the future. no promises <3 goodbye friends and foes!!

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ayyy-pee · 5 months

Text

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Masterlist

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Female Reader

Story Summary: Following his mothers passing, Nanami inherits his family's rundown bakery. With the bakery on its last leg, Nanami reluctantly takes on the task of trying to save what his family has worked to keep for decades, but he can't do it alone.

Genre: Bakery/Coffee Shop AU

Warnings: Workaholic meanie Nanami, employee x boss relationship, but also enemies to lovers, death, grief/mourning, profanity, jealousy, fluff, angst, Nanami owns a bakery, parental loss, Nanami is bad at feelings, I don’t know if I’ll do smut for this one but sexual tension, mutual pining, Nanami is sort of an asshole here

Art by: Ilameys + (Unknown artist (right pic). I'd love to credit the artist so if you know who it is, please let me know!)

Chapter 2 - Wienerbrød

Chapter Summary: You try to bake something new!

You kick your shoes off as you enter your apartment. With your phone wedged between your ear and your shoulder, you groan in irritation as you storm into your living room.

“I’m telling you, Shoko. This guy is such a fucking asshole. Shut me down the second I asked him a simple question,” you’re ranting as you flop down onto your couch. “He’s got to be the most pessimistic person I’ve ever met. He did nothing but pick apart the entire bakery and tell me how shitty it was, tried to establish some strange dominance thing in the kitchen after offering me the job… the kitchen,” you stress dramatically, wavering your arms as if Shoko can see you. “My domain! Can you believe him? He doesn’t give a shit about the actual bakery. He’s a total businessman type. Stiff, boring as hell and a dick. I don’t know why I said yes to the position. I’m going to hate my life.”

You exhale sharply once you’ve finished your tirade. On the other end of the line, you hear your friend inhale deeply. You didn’t have to ask to know she was sucking on a cigarette, likely almost finished with it and prepping her second, maybe third. After a short beat of silence, you hear her exhale. “Hmm, is he hot at least?”

“Extremely,” you admit through gritted teeth, rubbing away the tension quickly forming between your brows. “That’s the worst part.”

You hate to think it, you loathe to admit it, but Nanami was so very fucking attractive, like stupid hot and it pissed you off! Those thick arms practically bulging through his dress shirt, those veins that exposed themselves and ran enticingly along his forearms when he rolled his sleeves up. His chiseled features, those sharp cheekbones, even his frown was attractive. And god, you didn’t even want to think about his waist.

Anyone with eyes could see Nanami Kento was an insanely beautiful man, modelesque even. But it only served to piss you off more. His constant gloomy attitude was so off-putting, it almost took away from his beauty, like a rain cloud threatening to cover a blue sky.

“Anyway,” you sigh, putting a stop to your own thoughts as you stare up at the ceiling. “That’s beside the point, Shoko. He’s an asshole, but it’s obvious he needs help to get his bakery up and running. I think it’s family owned. He told me that he grew up in the bakery. Seemed miserable about it, though.”

“Interesting,” Shoko manages, though she sounds rather disinterested. “Well if he had to pick anyone, he definitely hired the best person for the job. You’re annoyingly positive.”

“Okay, rude.”

“I just mean you’ll balance his negativity well. Just try not to let him walk all over you. You’ve worked with plenty of dickheads before. What’s one more?”

You hum, your mind already accepting your fate. “I guess you’re right.”

“You know I am. The guy clearly needs help and you love this kind of thing - taking something old, miserable and rundown and making it loveable again.”

You hum again, listening as Shoko blows out another breath of smoke. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll do the same for the bakery, too.”

“Right. Wait– what?”

“I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” She says, voice light with humor. The line goes dead and you roll your eyes at your friends comments as you let the day's events wash over you. Nanami said he wanted to sample some of your desserts on Monday and see some new recipes. You can do that.

The moment you’d stepped into the bakery’s kitchen, your mind raced with possibilities. You felt at home there. The kitchen felt like it had been loved, like it was properly used and cared for, albeit old and a little rundown. That was okay. It gave the kitchen personality and you loved that. You wanted to continue giving the kitchen the love it deserved.

Nanami told you he’d grown up in that kitchen, but he truly seemed to hate even being in the building. You tried to picture a chubby little blonde boy with his arms crossed and a scowl etched across his face standing in the kitchen covered in flour and icing. Adorable, but definitely not the man you’d met today. You wondered how it came to be that he now owned this bakery when he seemed to despise it.

And you wondered if there was a way to get him to learn to love it again.

You shake your head, pushing the thought away. It wasn’t your job to turn his frown upside down, so to speak. It was your job to make sure the bakery was successful as it’s Head Baker and that’s what you intended to do.

- - - - - -

The weekend came and went just as quickly and now you find yourself standing in the kitchen of the bakery with Nanami as the sun barely begins to rise over the city. You pile your notebooks onto the large metal table in the center of the room. Nanami reaches over, taking the notebook sitting atop the stack.

“Are these your recipes?” He asks, flipping through the pages.

“Yep. These are some pastries I created on a whim. I was thinking we could go through and select what you like, maybe tweak some so that they fit more of the vibe you’re going for with the bakery. Or are there any pastries you’d like to keep from the previous owner?”

Nanami’s dark eyes shoot up from the notebook to look at you. You hold his gaze, trying to find anything behind those eyes aside from the clear hatred he holds for this bakery, but you don’t. It’s frustrating.

“No,” is all he says.

“Okay…well, we can start from scratch then. Let me know what you see that you may like.”

Nanami replies with something between a grunt and a hum. “I’ll review a few of these and will follow up. If you want to get comfortable and organize the kitchen to your liking, go ahead. Please try and have a sample pastry ready within the next few hours.”

He turns to go into his office without so much as a look back.

You sigh, trying to get used to this silence you were sure you’d be working in everyday whether Mr. Nanami was there or not. You couldn’t wait to establish a menu so you could bring staff on. At least then you wouldn’t feel so alone.

You wander through the kitchen with a notepad, looking through all of the smallwares and jotting down what you see in case you need to place an order. There seems to be many of the supplies you need here already and in good condition - spatulas, mixing bowls, flour sifters, icing tips. The bakeware also seems to be well supplied with an array of bread pans, muffin tins and cake pans. This place was fully stocked as far as you could tell.

You shuffle over to where three mixer appliances sit on a counter against the wall, setting your notepad down to inspect them. They’re a little older, but they turn on and mix just fine. You’d bet they mixed better than some of the newer models. You decide you’ll keep them.

As you lean one of the mixers over to check its condition, you find a small booklet lying underneath the stand. You pick it up, gently setting the mixer back down before you open it to inspect it. It’s a tiny black leatherbound journal with very faded gold lettering in a language you definitely don’t know.

And you? Well, you’re nosey as hell, so you carefully peel back the cover, taking in the elegant writing etched onto the first page.

To my baby boy

There’s some strange writing scrawled beneath this in what looks like English letters. You can’t really tell, but it seems to be some message in whatever language this is. You turn a couple of pages and let your eyes roam over what’s written within. The rest of the pages you can read fairly easily as they’re in English. You can see immediately that these are recipes. The booklet is full of pastry dishes, both sweet and savory. They appear to be foreign pastries and you feel your heart race with excitement as you imagine making them because while you were adventurous with your baking, you’re positive you haven’t tried to make any of these.

And Nanami did want to sample your baking, so why not give him something he’s not going to see in your portfolio?

Eagerly, you begin moving through the rest of the kitchen equipment, taking out what you need to begin.

- - - - - -

The kitchen is full with the smell of fresh dough baking. The quiet hum of the ovens working calms you as you sift through the recipe in the booklet you’d found earlier. You decided to make one of your original creations while also trying your hand at this new mystery pastry in case Mr. Nanami liked both…or one…or none. Shit, you didn’t want to imagine him not liking either.

You stare down at the ingredients already in the mixing machines.

“Alright. So, water, 2 large eggs, a teaspoon of salt, unsalted butter, active dry yeast…” You read through the remaining list of ingredients until you reach the end. “And now…flour?” You squint down at the notebook, the words scribbled messily on the paper, time having faded the ink. You can’t really make out the measurements written out. It looks like 2 ½ cups. You’ll try it and hey, if it doesn’t work, you’ll simply adjust the recipe to find the right mix. Easy.

Just as you’re sorting through the measuring cups, Nanami emerges from his office with your journals, mouth set in its usual hard line as he makes his way to you. He sets the books down, and you swear you see him inhale the sweet scent of the pastries currently baking in the oven before softly exhaling. You open your mouth to say something before quickly shutting it because he’s back to business in about .02 seconds. You really can’t read this guy, so you don’t try to. You redirect your focus back on to your task.

“These look good,” he tells you, his finger tapping on the book stacked on top. “I placed a post-it note on the recipes I think may work for the soft opening, but I’d like for you to make a sample of them beforehand. Maybe just a few a day.”

You nod, acknowledging his request but far too focused on scooping your guesstimate of flour. Nanami eyes you carefully, brown eyes staring as you carefully run your finger over the top of the flour. The excess falls carelessly onto the table and just before you pour it in, Nanami speaks, his voice halting your movements.

“What are you making now?”

“Hmm?” You ask, glancing over at him. “Oh, something called…” you peer down at the booklet, “Wee-ner-brod?” You’re one hundred percent positive you butchered that pronunciation, but how do you even pronounce ‘wienerbrød’?

Clearly Nanami knows because he surprisingly lets out an amused chuckle before he asks, “Wienerbrød?” With what you assume is perfect pronunciation. And you’re not sure why, but the sound of his deep baritone laugh makes your stomach twist in a strangely pleasant way.

“Yes! That!” You point to Nanami with your free finger. “I’m making…” you stumble your way through the pronunciation again and get another small laugh from Mr. Nanami which makes your own lips curl up in a smile.

“I didn’t know you knew how to make Danish pastries.”

“I don’t, but you don’t learn without trying.”

“True. What step are you on now?” Nanami asks curiously, coming up to stand next to you. This close to him, you can truly see just how large he is. Not to mention, he smells incredible. You ignore the way the mix of the aroma of baked goods and his cologne almost makes your eyes want to roll back. You’d never smelled something so tantalizing before.

Nanami calls your name and you clear your throat, trying to re-focus.

“Oh, um…well I’ve added mostly everything and now I need to incorporate the flour - about 2 ½ cups.”

“Your calculation is off.” He affirms gently, eyeing the measuring cup in your hand.

You snort, “Are you suddenly an expert in Danish baking or something?”

“I can throw a few things together.” He says and you peek over to see him rolling the sleeves of his very nice (and probably very expensive) shirt up to his elbows. Your eyes roam over, drinking in the sight of those thick veins that you couldn’t get out of your head over the weekend protruding from his forearms, the way his muscles flex with the slightest movement and you wonder for a moment what it would be like to grab onto those arms while he –

“As I was saying,” Nanami’s quiet voice interrupts your reverie. “2 ½ cups is close, but you actually need 2 ¾ cups for this recipe.” He reaches in front of you to grab a ¾ measuring cup and again, you’re assaulted with the scent of his cologne. Your mind erupts with thoughts of nothing appropriate for an employee to be thinking about their boss, but you can’t help it!

You blame it on that damn smile of his and that laugh. It’s thrown you off of your game.

Nanami takes the measuring cup you’re holding and replaces it with another. “You also need to use your hands to mix this.”

You might faint.

“Is that…” you lick your lips, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “Is that completely necessary?”

Nanami slowly adds small amounts of flour into the mixer bowl while kneading with his other hand. “It’s time consuming, of course, but it allows for more control over the dough. You can feel the dough's texture…if it’s too dry or if it’s too wet. From there you can determine if more water or more flour is needed.” You watch as his brows furrow in concentration, a little surprised by his knowledge around dough. Though it shouldn’t be surprising given that he grew up in this very same bakery. Of course he’d know.

And once again, your stomach does somersaults.

Damnit, he was definitely going to need to stay out of the kitchen if you were going to stay employed here.

As Nanami continues working through the recipe, you chat idly about general things. He tells you a bit about his time as a businessman, but doesn’t elaborate on what exactly led him to own a bakery. And you tell him a bit about yourself, trying to keep the conversation light as this was the most you’d both interacted since your interview and you’re surprised by how well it’s going. You don’t want to ruin it by poking and prodding.

As the conversation goes on, you watch him very carefully as he works the dough, ignoring the way your heart races watching him do the very thing you do almost daily.

“The end result should be somewhat sticky,” he states.

And oh god, something was getting sticky alright…and it lay between your legs. Your eyes are glued to the bulging muscles of Nanami’s forearms working the flour into a thick doughy substance between his large, thick fingers. Your gaze moves up his stupidly sexy arms, to his biceps straining against his shirt and you imagine him flexing so hard, it rips to shreds, falling in tatters to the floor. The cartoonish image almost makes you want to laugh. And you would have if your eyes hadn’t continued their journey, higher to his tight shoulders moving in circles as he presses his palms into the dough. Higher to the tension in his jaw, the muscles rippling as he grits his teeth with focus. The kitchen suddenly feels unbearably hot and you’re not sure if it’s the ovens running causing the temperature to rise or the view in front of you.

Nanami had never mentioned he knew how to bake. But why would he? It was your job to know. You also never thought to ask after the sour note your interview ended on despite you still being offered the position. You could not stand him upon first meeting and now here you were practically drooling into this batter over how incredibly sexy he was when he was baking.

Nanami slowly pours flour in again as he kneads the dough with expert precision. The way he grips it in his hands, the way his fingers deftly sprinkle flour into the mix. You wonder what else those big hands can do.

The oven timer dings and you snap out of your lewd thoughts, pretty sure sweat is forming on your forehead from your fantasies. You spin around quickly to slide on oven mitts before you pull the pans from the oven. You’d chosen to make miniature fruit tarts with a vanilla pastry cream. A simple recipe, but absolutely to die for. Setting the tray down, you return to Nanami’s side just as he finishes kneading the dough.

And you try to hide the frown pulling at the corner of your lips when you realize you’d lost your perfect view.

He moves to the sink to wash the remaining dough from his hands, returning with plastic wrap to cover the mixing bowl. “I hope you weren’t planning on completing that today,” He says before turning to head toward the walk-in refrigerator. When he emerges, you shoot him a questioning look.

“I was going to let the dough rise for a few hours while I worked on some other things.”

He hums in acknowledgment, but shakes his head. “For this dough, you need to do a long rise for the best result. Overnight is best.”

“Okay, you’re the expert Danish pastry baker apparently,” you tease, earning you another small chuckle from him and you feel your face heat up at the sound.

What is with you today?

“How did you come up with the idea to make Wienerbrød anyway?” He questions suddenly. “Just seems a bit random given what recipes you’d given me to review.”

“Oh!” You rush back over to the mixers excitedly and grab the booklet, holding it up for Nanami to see, a wide grin on your face. “I found this under one of the mixers. It has some strange language I can’t read in the front of it…I’m assuming it’s Danish? But some delicious sounding recipes from what I could understand when I skimmed through. I decided this would be a good idea to take myself out of my comfort zone to try something new.”

Nanami takes a step forward, squinting hard at the little journal in your hands. Suddenly, his eyes widen slightly and he snatches the book from your hold. He opens it to the first page, where the foreign message is scrawled down before he snaps the book shut, his lips pursing in displeasure.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs in clear irritation. “Next time you find something that is very clearly a personal belonging, please bring it to me before you take it upon yourself to poke through something that isn’t yours,” he snaps, his voice clipped.

The shift in tone takes you aback.

“Oh. I’m sorry, Mr. Nanami. It just seemed to belong to someone who knew their way around baking so I–”

“I didn’t ask for the reasoning behind your nosiness,” he cuts you off and you feel your own irritation begin to slowly rise. “Is this a habit of yours? Digging through people’s belongings and taking things that aren’t yours?”

You scoff, folding your arms across your chest defensively. “If you’d let me finish, I’m trying to apologize –”

“I don’t want an apology. I want you to show up here, bake and leave. Not spend your time digging through someone else’s belongings.”

You inhale sharply, trying to gather your thoughts. This conversation has taken an unpleasant turn and the last thing you want to do is have a blow up with your boss. You feel like you’ve actually made progress with him today and this feels like a setback waiting to happen.

“Again, Mr. Nanami, that wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to try something new. I had no idea this book…” you wave your hand in his direction. “...would be such a sore spot for you.”

At this, Nanami seems to bristle. “My sore spot,” he stresses the words, “is nosey employees who don’t just do the job I asked them to do. I asked you to make a sample pastry –”

“And I did,” you cut him off, gesturing to your tarts cooling on the table. “And I had enough time to try my hand at something new, which is why I wanted to try something new and present it to you.”

You sigh when Nanami meets your response with silence.

“What’s the issue here? You had no problem with helping me make this until you saw that book,” you say, pointing at the small black journal he holds. Your gazes lock in an intense staredown and even as Nanami annoys you, you can’t help but find his frustratingly pretty brown eyes completely mesmerizing.

Ugh, stop.

“The issue,” Nanami stresses, “is you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Excuse me? It’s just a recipe book. Why are you so upset about it? Is it yours or something?”

“Again, poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Mr. Nanami, with all due…respect,” you grit out the last word because he was really starting to piss you off, “if we’re going to be working together as closely as we are, there needs to be some trust here. It’s just a recipe book. I apologize for overstepping, but you can tell me why referencing this book to make Weenerbrod is such a big deal.”

You could swear you see the ghost of a smile on his lips just before he rolls his eyes, correcting your pronunciation of the pastry again, just as he turns his back to you. “You are my employee, I am your employer and that’s it. My helping you to bake a simple bread does not make us friends. Please complete the sample pastries I requested of you and we can reconvene once they’re finished. End of discussion.”

Nanami heads to his office without another word, slamming the door behind him.

You can only watch him disappear from your sight, seething. Left standing in the kitchen alone after yet another faceoff with your new boss, you’re suddenly reminded of your earlier conversation with Shoko.

Just try not to let him walk all over you. You’ve worked with plenty of dickheads before. What’s one more?

You resist going after Nanami and giving him a piece of your mind, instead following his instructions to finish your samples. You won’t push him. Clearly that little book meant something to him and he had no intention of sharing. And he was right. It wasn’t your business to know…

…But you can’t help feeling upset that the light mood of earlier is now gone.

You sigh, ignoring the pit in your stomach as your anger begins to subside. Instead, you move to the walk in refrigerator, gathering the ingredients to make the vanilla cream for your tarts.

Your mind is still racing with the conversation that just took place even as you mix your ingredients and pack the cream into the icing decorating bags. You realize for the first time since meeting Nanami that he wasn’t only this stoic tyrant that enjoys barking orders. He was someone with interests, someone with depth, someone who clearly enjoyed the art of baking the same way you do. You saw the look in his eyes as he guided you through making this pastry. And while you’ve barely known Nanami, you’re familiar with the look on someone’s face when they’ve participated in their passion. He looked…happy. Clearly, there’s more to Nanami than you know.

More to him than what he was willing to show you. For now.

You’re annoyingly positive.

Shoko’s words make you roll your eyes as they echo in her head. Because you know she’s right.

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desceros · 5 months

Text

me, innocent, a victim: [goes to look for something in my phone's photoroll] me: [is violently assaulted by gb art] donatello/reader; gn reader; rated t

When you open your eyes, you see, to your shock, Donatello.

Well. It’s hardly surprising that he’s in your bed, considering he’s been getting pretty good at the whole mind-melting orgasm thing. Maybe half of the nights of your week lately have ended up with your eyes drinking in the sight of him caging you in, your wrists aching with the tightness of his fingers holding them above your head, and your ears singing with the sound of him whining your name when he comes. It’s incredible—he’s incredible—and you’d be pressed picking a time in your life you’ve been happier.

But this. This is… new.

He’s not wearing his mask. That’s the first thing that catches your attention, once you’re able to move past the totality of his presence in the gentle rays of dawn streaming through your window. He looks… softer, somehow. Different. There’s a closeness to him, physically, literally, that makes you tremble a bit in your very skin. Like you’ve never really been with him before, absurd as it sounds even in your own head. He’s touched you the way no one else has—the way no one else ever, ever will, if you have your way about it—but this. This.

God. He’s beautiful, you think, gazing at each inch of his uncovered skin and searing it to your mind. You’ve always been attracted to him, but here, it takes your breath away. The curve of his beak beneath his eyes, the angle of his jaw, the squish of his cheek where he’s sleeping on your pillow, the little puffs of air that snooze out with each breath; all of it entrances you, making your lips quiver.

Slowly, gently, almost hating yourself for it, you reach out. An impossible temptation to resist. The very tips of your fingers on his face, tracing from temple to chin, over and over as you memorize this unseen part of him. Odd, how it feels like you’re pining, yearning for him, when you still feel the aches in your body from how thoroughly he’d had you last night.

…Though, you suppose, that was him having you. And this is—

—this is you having him.

Donnie’s lips curl at the corner, and you know you’re busted. Suddenly shy, you fight the urge to pull away, to pretend you weren’t consuming the sight of him. It’s a vulnerable feeling, but you’re rewarded when he opens one eye, blearily meeting your gaze.

“…Aren’t you usually the one nagging me to sleep?” he says in a mumble, causing you to smile sheepishly.

“I… couldn’t resist,” you admit quietly, your touch garnering a bit of weight now that he’s awake.

“Had to check and make sure I was real under my mask?” he teases, and it’s tempting to follow him down the path. Tasting bravery on your tongue, you resist.

“Too handsome not to,” you tell him honestly, cupping his cheek with your palm. You feel the hitch in his breath, the warmth that spreads onto his cheeks even as his scales don’t allow for a blush. “Needed to.”

Donnie stares for a moment, then gives a breathy laugh, reaching out to grasp your hand from his face and bringing it so he can press a kiss to your palm. This, too, is new—this quiet, non-sexual intimacy. It makes you feel warm, a bit like you’re the one who’s been basking in the sunlight, not him.

“You’re obnoxiously romantic in the morning, huh?” he murmurs. He doesn’t sound displeased. Giddily, you wiggle closer, feeling him reach out to slide a hand to your back to help pull you close, until only a sigh separates your face and his, your legs so tangled together only the roughness of his scales tells them apart.

“…I could be obnoxiously romantic all the time,” you tell him, looking between his eyes as the other opens, seeing the tender expression on his face. “…If you wanted me to.”

A comforting, familiar, possessive hand cups your nape, his thumb tracing the soft skin beneath your ear. A dazzling glissando of sensation runs along his touch, making your eyes flutter for a moment before you lick your lips and focus on him again.

Finally, he smiles, an honest little thing that transfigures your heart into a tiny hummingbird. “Yeah,” he says, his tone as warm as the coming morning. “That… sounds great.”

And then, as if sealing a promise, he pulls you close for a kiss even softer than the sheets that ensconce you both. Humming into it, you melt, nuzzling his beak with a lustrous glow beneath your skin. Then—slowly, gently—your fingers again find unmasked skin, loving, claiming, confident now in the long rays of dawn.

#i. i dont even remember what i went in here to look for anymore 8|#the eternal catch-22 of Needing to have all of their art at my fingertips. but also. oh dear god it's always there. hovering. haunting.#i just. snapped and wrote this. im. im so sorry. i couldn't contain myself #tmnt #rise #my fic #donatello/reader #rating: t

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onceuponastory · 9 months

Text

artistic - bucky barnes x reader

Plot: After embarrassing herself in front of the very attractive artist, Y/N swears her night has gone from bad to worse. In fact, she couldn't be more wrong. Pairing: Artist!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Some swearing and a mention of alcohol. If I miss any triggers, please let me know! Notes: This is a part two to An Intriguing Stranger, which was based on a gif sent to me by @holacia3. Some people wanted Bucky's POV, so here it is! Read part one here!

As Y/N tries to think of something to say in response to the stranger's introduction, it's like time slows down. And the more time ticks by, the more Y/N wants the ground to open up and swallow her whole. And when she finally does speak, it's even worse. “Oh, my god. I’m so sorry.” Is what she was supposed to say. What she wanted to say. Instead, however, a mixture of words, of ‘sorry’ and ‘I had no idea who you were’ and ‘please don’t sue me’ comes out. More of a word vomit than a well thought out apology.

When James opens his mouth again, she expects him to curse her out, or even to actually sue her. Instead of a threat, though, she hears the complete opposite. Laughter. She raises a brow, curious about why he finds the situation funny, and what kind of artist would laugh at their work being criticised.

Honestly, Bucky wasn’t expecting to hear such a critique of his art tonight. And he definitely doesn’t mean to find it so funny. Or at least, he knows he probably shouldn’t. But after experiencing the perfectionism and fakeness of the art world, her brutal honesty is incredibly refreshing.

And it helps that she’s very cute too. In fact, he's never seen anyone like her ever before.

“Please, don’t feel the need to apologise. It’s totally fine.” He smiles. “That was my first real laugh of the night.” Y/N blinks in surprise, waiting for the other shoe to drop, the ‘but’ in his sentence to appear. And yet, it never comes, only adding to her confusion.

“What? But I just practically destroyed your life’s work!” To her surprise, he shrugs.

“Well, you were right, actually. My usual work is nothing like this. But unfortunately, it doesn’t pay the bills that well, and ‘isn’t the sort of work the galleries are looking for right now.’” He mocks, and Y/N stifles a laugh of her own. “One night it all reached a head, so I got very drunk on some wine and basically threw some paint at a canvas, like you guessed.” He nods. “And it definitely was a big fuck you to the art world and their standards.” He sighs, running another hand through his hair. “I didn’t even mean to submit it, but somehow I did, so I woke up the next morning to a bunch of emails and calls from a ton of galleries asking for the honour to display it.” He explains, before turning back to the painting. “I know it’s brought me a lot of success, but honestly? I hate this fucking thing.”

“So… no harm done?” Y/N asks awkwardly, and he smiles.

How does his smile make my stomach flutter so much?

“None at all. In fact, I admire your honesty.” He walks towards another painting, beckoning for her to follow with a move of his head. For a moment, Y/N holds back. Even though there’s no animosity between them both, surely there’s no way he actually wants to spend time with her?

Yet, he beckons her to follow him again once more, and Y/N’s feet start moving towards him before she can even think about it.

After all, surely this night can't go any worse.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

For most of the night, Y/N’s new artistic friend gives her a tour of the exhibition, occasionally commenting on the artwork and its creators. He also very quickly told her to call him Bucky instead of James, something which he insists only his close friends do. Despite how relieved she feels to be getting closer and closer to her new, extremely attractive artistic friend (especially since he isn't going to sue her), Y/N would be lying if she said this whole thing didn’t feel absolutely crazy, and that she still isn’t waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under her, her chance at spending time with the attractive artist over before it even began.

But as Bucky leads her upstairs, into the fancy reception that only a few moments ago she was so sure she would not be attending, Y/N realises that she’s not going to complain about spending time with her handsome and charming companion. And with Bucky by her side, she feels more comfortable, less out of place. It feels like this is where she’s meant to be. By his side.

The room is busy, heaving with journalists and other artists. Yet, Bucky moves his hand to the small of her back, sending a shockwave throughout her entire body. He effortlessly guides her through the room, leading her straight to the bar.

After grabbing her a drink, Bucky leans against the bar, taking her all in. Y/N feels heat rising in her cheeks, and she grins. He really is an incredibly handsome man.

“You said you don’t paint like that usually, so what is your usual work, then?” She asks, trying and failing to limit her staring. Bucky chuckles.

“The usual boring stuff, landscapes, portraits….”

“That doesn’t sound boring. I do like that kind of art, actually.” Bucky looks over at her, smirking.

“You know, I’d like to paint you one day. I think you’d make a wonderful piece.” He muses. Y/N almost drops her glass in shock, her cheeks burning even deeper. Bucky grabs a napkin, scribbling something on it. “I need to go mingle, but here’s my number. If we ever get separated, or if you would like to be a model for me....” He trails off, grinning cheekily. “Just call me.” He places his hand on her shoulder, giving her one last smile and a wink before disappearing into the crowd.

As he fades out of sight, Y/N pulls out her phone, adding Bucky to her contacts.

She might just take him up on his offer.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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purplefangirl42 · 4 months

Text

You're My Favorite

Summary: Silco is a bit insecure about your interest in others, but you're quick to ease his mind.

Pairing: Silco/GN!Reader

A/N: This was part of a gift exchange for my lovely friend @deny-the-issue. Love you lots and lots Jasper 💜

Tags/Warnings: Modern AU, Fluff, Silco being jealous, Themes of Insecurity Divider by saradika

A soft huff of annoyance was the sound that greeted you when you entered Silco’s office, which was not exactly what you were expecting. He was usually very happy to see you, as it meant he would have a small distraction from his busy work day.

“Something wrong?” you asked as you sank into the armchair across from his desk.

Silco peered at you over the edge of his laptop screen, the skin between his eyes crinkled as he furrowed his brows at you. Before you could ask again what his problem was, he turned the computer to face you.

You leaned forward to look at what he was showing you and discovered he had the purchase history open for his online shopping account. The list contained many purchases from Jinx, but also a number from yourself. The latest was a set of merchandise for a game you enjoyed, specifically for the character you were a big fan of.

“If you’re upset I used your account, I can pay you back,” you said, trying to not let your own annoyance seep into your tone. “I didn’t think you’d mind me using it though. I’ve used it plenty of times before.”

Silco sat back in his desk chair, turning the computer back around.

“It’s not the money that bothers me, it’s the content,” he said. “Everything has this man’s face on it. As if the big poster at home that I have to walk by every day wasn’t bad enough, now his face will be staring back at me from your clothing?”

Confusion filled your mind at his reaction. He had never expressed an issue with this subject matter before, so you had no idea where this was coming from.

“At least tell me this one has some flaws,” he continued. “That last character you were fawning over from that TV show was a near perfect human specimen.”

Silco’s last comment echoed through your mind for a few moments before you realized what the problem was. He was feeling self-conscious about his looks and comparing himself to others you showed attraction to.

This was not the first time something like this had happened. Around the time the two of you started dating, he had expressed concern about your ability to find someone better than him. Someone younger and better looking. Though you had assured him that he was the one you wanted, it seemed that those doubts still lingered to an extent.

You stood up from your chair and made your way around to his side of the desk. He was pointedly not looking at you, focusing on the screen in front of him. When you stopped at his side, you gently placed your hand on the side of his face to turn it towards you.

“Silco? Are you feeling jealous?” you asked.

Silco scowled and let out another huff in response.

“Of fictional characters? Don’t be ridiculous.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, giving him a chance to change his answer to the correct one. After a moment, his face relaxed and he gave a resigned sigh.

“I will admit, it’s a bit discouraging to see you so infatuated with these people,” he said. “It just reminds me of what I’m lacking.”

He gestured to the computer screen again and to the phone in your front pocket.

“You surround me with these images and as hard as I try to ignore it, it lingers in my mind.”

You reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone. The case had a piece of art featuring the character you had just purchased merch for. You turned the phone over and placed it down on the desk so the case was hidden from his view.

“I’m sorry, darling,” Silco said. “I know I’m being ridiculous about something so unimportant. Forget this conversation ever happened.”

You leaned down to be at his level and gently stroked his cheek.

“Silco, you don’t need to apologize for expressing your feelings.”

“You deserve to enjoy things, to go all out. If having these things makes you happy, then I will deal with Mr. What’s-his-name staring at me from every angle.”

You laughed softly at Silco calling the character ‘Mr. What’s-his name’ and reached for your phone again, turning on the screen.

“While he may be all over the place, do you know who I have as my lock screen?” you asked, turning the phone so he could see.

Silco leaned over and looked at the phone and you could see the embarrassed look on his expression fade into something softer. The image on the screen was a picture of the two of you together. Jinx had taken it for you at one of Silco's company parties. She had said the two of you looked cute together, and you had agreed and immediately made it your lock screen.

“I may enjoy all these beautiful, FICTIONAL, characters,” you said, emphasizing the fact that they were not real. “But you are still my favorite, Silco. You always will be.”

You leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek before pulling away and placing the phone back in your pocket. Silco looked up at you with a look of adoration that made your heart swell. You gave him a soft smile and pointed at the screen.

“I’m still getting those by the way, they were a great deal.”

Silco rolled his good eye and you could swear you saw the hint of a smirk on his lips.

“Yes, darling. I will simply pretend that they do not exist. For you.”

To make things easier for Silco, you placed the items you purchased in your office as soon as they arrived. You had even moved the poster so he wouldn’t have to see it every day. When you watched him walk past the spot the following day, you saw him hesitate and look at the empty wall. He turned his gaze to you with a raised brow, which you responded to with a smile before coming over to wrap your arms around him.

“What happened to What’s-his-name?” Silco asked. “I was just starting to get used to him.”

“He lives in my office now so you don’t have to see him staring at you every day.”

You felt Silco’s arms tighten around you for a few moments before he released you. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and went about his normal routine. You knew he had many things to get done before the holiday break, so you let him go without further conversation.

You started going about doing your own things, getting the house ready for the upcoming holiday. Jinx was going to be coming home from school for two weeks and you wanted the house to look magical when she arrived. Silco wasn’t much help when it came to the decorating process, so it was probably better that he was busy while you did this.

Just as you were putting the finishing touches on one of your decorations, you heard the front door burst open. Before you could turn around, you felt a body slam into you, nearly knocking you to the floor. Blue and pink tipped fingers were visible at the ends of the arms wrapped around your midsection, which gave away the identity of your attacker, as if you didn’t already know.

“Welcome home, Jinx,” you said, patting her hands. “Did you have a good trip here?”

“I don’t think she stopped talking the entire way here from the airport,” came an annoyed grumble behind you.

Turning around in your daughter’s tight grasp, you looked over her head to see a very grumpy looking Sevika standing in the doorway holding Jinx’s paint splattered bags. She dropped them to the floor and held up her hands.

“She’s your problem now,” she said, turning to leave.

“Thank you, Sevika!” you called after her as she departed.

You spent the rest of the afternoon with Jinx, listening to her stories about the past semester. You all had plans to go out for dinner once Silco came home from work, so when the time got closer, you disappeared into the bedroom to get ready. You were surprised to find Silco standing there waiting for you.

“When did you get home? I never saw you come in!” you said, walking towards your closest.

“That’s because I told Jinx to distract you so you wouldn’t notice. It would have ruined the surprise.”

“What surprise?”

You stopped in your tracks at the sight of a box sitting on the end table beside the door to the closet. It was long and red with a white bow on top. You reached out for the box and picked it up carefully before turning to face Silco.

“What’s this?”

Silco crossed the room to stand in front of you, his hands clasped behind his back and the hint of a smile lifting the corner of his mouth. He pointed his chin in the direction of the box in your hands, clearly wanting you to open it.

Doing as he wished, you pulled at the white bow, undoing the knot. Lifting the lid from the box, you revealed the contents inside. A beautiful gold bracelet sat inside, nestled in black velvet. You let out a soft gasp as you carefully extracted it from the box, placing the box back down on the end table.

“Silco, this is beautiful!,” you exclaimed. “But, Christmas isn’t for another week!”

“I thought you could wear it tonight when you go for dinner,” he said, stepping closer and taking it from your hands and turning it over. “Look on the back.”

You looked at where he indicated and saw an engraving that looked very similar to Silco’s handwriting. Your eyes scanned over the words on the metal and you felt your heart skip a beat.

You’re my favorite too. Always have been, always will be.

Your vision blurred slightly as tears began to form in the corners of your eyes. You looked up to meet Silco’s gaze as the first drop ran down your cheek. Throwing yourself in his direction, you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in his shoulder.

“I’m glad you like it, darling,” Silco said, returning your embrace.

“Like it? I love it!”

Silco pulled back from the embrace and took your hand in his to guide it to a position where he could attach your gift. Once it was securely in place, he lifted your hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

“It is just a small token of my love for you. I wanted to ensure that you knew your sentiment was returned.”

“I didn’t need a bracelet to tell me, but it is nice to have it there as a reminder.”

You closed the distance between you once again, kissing Silco softly on the lips. You felt him smile into the kiss and wrap his arms around you to pull you tightly against him. You hoped he truly understood how much you loved him and how important he was to you. Much more than anyone else you could ever meet.

A/N: Give this a like, comment, and reblog and let me know what you think!

#silco #silco arcane #lol silco #silco x reader #arcane league of legends #arcane #gift fic

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cosmicpearlz · 1 year

Text

at midnight

summary: bringing in the new year with a drastic change was definitely not on your bingo card but here you were.

pairing: xavier thorpe x reader

a/n: hi welcome to the last day of ficmas! i’ve enjoyed writing these everyday and i’m glad everyone else enjoying it too. also merry christmas loves!

…………………………………………………………………………….

the nightshades decided to come back to the school early in order to celebrate the new year with a party. it wasn’t only the members but close friends were allow to come too. principal weems deemed it okay to have it in the nightshades library. bianca, yoko, divina and you were in charge of the decorations while the boys were in charge of food and music.

with the party in full swing, you went to get a slice of pizza after quietly removing yourself from the previous conversation you were in with enid and yoko. “can i have a bite of your pizza?” you didn’t have to even turn around to know that it was xavier, your best friend.

“xavi you can literally get your own pizza.”

“i wanna bite out of yours though,” he shrugs his shoulders not caring about the other slices of pizza. you narrowed your eyes at him and saw that he wasn’t gonna let it go.

huffing, you held out the pizza for him to bite. he grins before leaning down to bite the pizza slice keeping his eyes on you while he did it. why was that so attractive? you always thought xavier was attractive but you knew that you didn’t want to risk the friendship you had with him. so what does one do when in love with their best friend? try to ignore it and hope for the best.

“why are you like this?”

“we always share stuff, why stop now?” he did have a point, you guys shared a lot of stuff. art supplies, notes, homework answers, xavier’s clothes and so much more. people often commented on how you guys were always attached to the hip.

“whatever loser. are you excited for the new year?” you take a bite out of your pizza only for xavier to then take another bite out of said pizza. he nods his head while chewing on the cheesy goodness.

“yeah, i think it’s gonna be a better year then this one.”

“i agree.” you guys ended up just taking turns biting the pizza until it was gone.

“i could go for another slice. you?”

“eh why not.” xavier went to grab another slice before ajax called both of your names to get your attention.

“hey lovebirds, come over here we’re playing uno!” quickly grabbing another slice of pizza and putting it on the plate in your hand, xavier pulls you to the group.

it was the biggest uno game ever. from left to right sat ajax, enid, wednesday, kent, you, xavier, yoko, divina and bianca.

“do you guys always share food like that?” divina pointed to the shared plate between you and xavier.

“don’t ask. they do this all the time for people that claim to not be dating,” ajax shakes his head making eye contact with xavier. xavier felt like he could kill ajax because the boy was the only one who knew of his feelings for you. seeing as he was his best friend besides you.

“focus on the game and how i’m gonna whoop your asses in.”

“oh y/n, tough talk for someone whose gonna lose!” bianca sends a smirk your way. that was your friendship though, super competitive but not too serious. enid dealt the cards and the competitive game began.

“xavier stop looking at my cards!”

“y/n, we’re supposed to be best friends. best friends show each other their cards.”

“no they fucking don’t,” you laughed and gently pushed his face from yours with your free hand that wasn’t hiding your cards.

the game went on for about an hour before the winner called uno and out. it ended up being kent, who wasted no time in bragging. you threw your cards on the floor in front of your legs.

“aww baby, are you mad?” pet names also weren’t unusual in your friendship with xavier. he just didn’t know that the times he called you a pet name, your stomach fluttered and made you melt inside.

“yes. very mad.”

“you’ll be fine. it’s just game.” he wraps your arms around you bringing you into a hug.

“i know i know,” you cuddled a little bit more into his side returning the hug.

everyone grabbed a red cup to prepare for the countdown. you took your place in a small corner of the library because your exhaustion was kicking in. xavier sees you and decided to join you.

“can’t believe it’s about to be a new year.”

“me neither it seemed like christmas came and gone by so quickly.” xavier nods with you agreeing that the end of the year felt so short.

“i’m totally not ready for school to end though.”

“why y/n?”

“i don’t know, just not ready to leave yet?” it was more of a question than a statement. how do you tell him you weren’t ready to not spend pretty much every day together. he steps a little closer to you.

“i understand you to an extent. it’s gonna be weird not seeing everyone every day.” it was like he read your mind, super freaky.

“exactly! i’m gonna miss everyone in the summer even if i’ll see them next school year.”

xavier takes another step closer to you still keeping a small gap in between. “will you miss me?”

“oh xavier, you know i’m gonna miss you. you’re my best friend.” you felt shy under his gaze with those beautiful green eyes.

“what if i don’t wanna be best friends anymore?” your heart dropped at his words. not be best friends anymore? he steps closer to where your noses are almost touching.

“what do you mean by that?” xavier licks his lips glancing down at yours.

“this,” he quickly places his free hand and tugged you into a kiss. it was needy mainly full of tongue and you didn’t mind this at all. you could hear the fireworks go off from the town but all you could focus on was the boy that had your heart.

“i meant that.” he leans his forehead on yours. you were breathless and couldn’t be more happier than right now.

“happy new year xavi,” your whisper fell on his lips making him want to kiss you again and again.

“happy new year sweetheart.”

#xavier thorpe x reader #percy hynes white #xavier thorpe #wednesday

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maturemenoftvandfilms · 5 months

Text

The Prince Consort of Denmark

CHAPTER TWO: The Vineyard in the South of France

Featuring Henrik, Prince Consort of Denmark

I worked at a private vineyard in the South of France, Château de Caïx, owned by Prince Henrik, the French-born husband of Danish monarch Queen Margrethe. Back in early 2002, Prince Henrik had some kind of drama and fled to his chateau to spend some time away from the royal family ‘to reflect on life’, where he would stay for a few weeks. What little I knew of the 68-year-old prince was that he had a reputation as a bon vivant who enjoyed cooking, poetry, art and wine. A typical royal doing typical royal things. And while working around the vineyard, I soon began to realize that prince was always around, either in the vineyard or sitting at the patio over looking it.

He was nice looking older man with a jovial face framed by understated glasses, charming smile, big belly and I guessed him to be not much over six feet tall. And like a typical royal, I knew he hadn’t done a lick of work in his life, least not hard work like I do. Too bad he’s straight, I thought to myself. Although he did make great j/o material.

After a day or so, I started noticing that the old prince would glance over at me from time to time. Being attracted to the man, I tend to bulge out at the crotch from time to time. And I started getting the idea that maybe he was looking at my crotch. Caused he would look away quickly whenever I would glance up and catch him looking at me.

Today, it was me who couldn't keep me eyes off him. His big belly looked so inviting as his shirt was only held together by half it's buttons. The heat of the day showed in the cleavage of his chest and his armpits. Oh my, was I in heaven! Lost in the thought of fucking the old prince did I noticed I was rock hard when Prince Henrik suddenly said, 'Who is the girl?'

'Sor … sorry?' I stammered.

'You've got one hell of a hard on there.' The prince said, 'I thought you must be thinking about some special girl.'

“Well, Sir, I guess you’re the blame.” I said thinking that I might as well be up front and honest with the old man. He looked sort of puzzled so I added. “Even time I see you I get a hard on.”

“Thanks. I don’t think any one has ever told me that I affected them in that manner before.”

And damn if he didn’t reach over, pat me on the shoulder and ask me to come inside. Obliging him, he led me by the hand inside Château de Caïx and into the bedroom.

We were standing in the middle of the room, slowly removing our clothes. Minutes later, we were naked and ready to engage in some hot steamy sex. Henrik sat on the edge of the bed with me standing in front of him. Then he started sucking the head of my cock adding lots of saliva so that he could slide it in his mouth easier. He fondled my balls as he went up and down quickly. I placed hismy hands on Henrik's shoulder and started to thrust my hips forward, burying my cock as deep as possible in the prince's greedy, sucking mouth.

"That's it. Suck my cock Your Highness." I said as I pumped my meat down the prince's throat.

I was amazed at the ease of which Henrik took my 7" inch cock from head to balls. He massaged my balls as he gave me a surprisingly good blow job. So good that I knew mine wasn’t the first dick that old prince had sucked.

After a few minutes of sucking, my cock was well lubricated and ready for insertion into his waiting asshole. Henrik lay back on the bed, raised and spread his legs while bending them at the knees.

"Fuck me. Fuck me hard." He said as he watched me crawl upon the bed between his legs.

Resting on the bed, I parted his legs at the knees and proceeded to slowly introduce my meat to the prince. Henrik sighed as I wasted no time in driving his meat completely in his ass. My thrusts were so deep that my tight balls slapped against Henrik's ass. As I continued my assault, I lifted the prince's ass off the bed so that I could plunge down at a more comfortable angle. Finally finding a position that I liked, I again pushed in my dick with great force. Henrik would grunt with each thrust in, throwing his head back as he thoroughly enjoyed the fucking that he was receiving from me.

And damn if Henrik's asshole didn’t feel wonderful as he was now moving around and up and down on my cock. As Henrik lay on his back, I noticed his dick stood completely at attention. I noticed how hard and thick Henrik's dick was. I noticed how it throbbed as I pushed my meat in and out of his wonderful ass. I grabbed it and started to jerk the prince's dick while I fucked him as he looked up and smiled.

I could tell by the expression on the prince's face that he was getting ready to cum. His cock throbbed back and forth and suddenly stiffened as I continued to pound. Henrik closed his eyes tightly and threw his head back.

"I'm cumming!" moaned the prince as a large load of cum shot from his dick.

Watching the prince shoot his load was too much for me as I to let go a mighty gust of cum. I immediately withdrew as it squirted a long stream of cum onto Henrik's stomach. Meanwhile Henrik coated both of us with load after load of cum.

As the last few drops oozed from my dick, I collapsed on top of Henrik. The cum stuck firmly to his belly and chest as it did to the equally thick black hair on my chest. The two of us lay chest to chest, wet with cum.

Despite the amount of cum both of us had shot, our cocks were still not completely soft and we still had interest in a little more sex.

I spend the night with him having sex off and on the entire night.

Henrik stayed in France for three weeks, prompting chatter of a potential royal divorce. Eventually, his wife Queen Margrethe joined him and the couple mended fences, heading back to Denmark. The queen gave him a loose rein, and was less concerned by his friendships with gentlemen.

#henrik prince consort of denmark #fan fiction #prince henrik #the prince consort of denmark #danish royal family #royalty #The Vineyard in the South of France

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foolishlovers · 1 month

Note

Ummmm….

Any trans!Crowley smut you’re particularly fond of?

Asking for a friend

here are some i've read 💜

from autumn blooms spring summer fruit by blackeyedblonde (9k) In the potter’s shed, Crowley picked up a trowel and threatened a yearling lemon tree still residing within its earthenware pot before he would allow himself to sit at the gardening table and pull the folded newspaper Aziraphale had given him from his smock. Enclosed on the inside were two gifts. One was the small velvet pouch that contained a pair of golden earrings strung with twin baroque pearls that did not squeak when he curiously rubbed one against his canine tooth. The other was the familiar sight of neat copperplate writing at the bottom of page seven of the paper, done in lead pencil so the words could be more easily smudged out with a bit of rubber. A gift, Lord Fell had written. I will come find you an hour after the molting brown bird has gone to bed.

Ever-Fixed by HKBlack (19k) Aziraphale Fell had a plan. Go to school, get his degree, and start his life with his beloved at his side as man and wife. Until one day Crowley disappears. Decades later he meets a man, and finds the love of his life again. Anthony J. Crowley, suave, cool, masculine, in control, unflappable, has spent decades building himself up. He refuses to let his confident facade disappear for Aziraphale, who once almost tumbled down the stairs to certain death because his nose was stuck in a book. It’s just sex, and they’ve been dating for months, this time around. There’s no need to get his knickers in a knot. But the past isn’t easy to let go of, even if you’re both avoiding it. A story about love, intimacy, and finding each other again. (Alternatively: Tender smut, but then I wrote love story flashbacks, and now it's just emotional and there's plot in my pornography)

that's what happens when you sign on the line by Sway (22k) "There we are," Mister Fell emerges once again, carrying a pot of tea that matches the decor on the cups. He pours out two cups, then sets the pot down before taking a seat in the other chair. "So… You are looking for a Dominant, then?" “I’m…,” Crowley gapes a bit, mouth opening and closing around what he isn’t quite sure to say. Mister Fell smiles in understanding. “I apologise. I have a tendency to ask rather blunt questions at first to get a feel for what a potential client seeks. I suppose it’s not for everybody to just… say it.” “I don’t want to think,” Crowley all but blurts then, surprising himself a bit. Maybe it does get easier with time to just… say it. “That’s what I want.” *** Crowley seeks to live out his submissive tendencies, to forget about this job, to give up control. He gets refered to one Mister Fell who is not at all what he expects. But very much what he needs.

Black and White Sunshine by Azira_Amane (58k) "The cotton capital. The Second Summer of Love, the Haçienda. Irwell, Medlock, Irk and Mersey. Elizabeth Gaskell wrote her novels in a lovely little house. Oh. There’s so much to know…" Aziraphale East is, by his own account, a bit of an odd duck - and he's okay with that. He's always been happy in his own skin, in having been a confirmed bachelor his whole life. Everything changes on a work trip from London to Manchester, where he meets the vivacious and stunningly attractive Anthony Crowley. Like the splitting of the atom, Aziraphale is divided - and begins to wonder if it's not too late for love after all. Age, as they say, is but a number.

and @ineffabildaddy wrote some lovely trans!crowley smut for the fic we wrote together (with incredible art by @omens-for-ophelia)

Just Up the Stairs by foolishlovers, ineffabildaddy, omens_for_ophelia (39k) On Valentine's Day, amidst the chaos of handling work and university deadlines as a mature student, Crowley seeks solace with his neighbour Aziraphale. As they share a meal, their long-standing friendship begins to unravel, revealing hidden feelings they've harboured for six months. It's a night that could change everything.

#trans!good omens my beloved #love reading and writing trans!crowley 💜#good omens fanfiction #good omens fic rec #good omens human au #trans crowley #aziracrow #foolish recs

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thatanimewriter · 2 years

Photo

THIS, IS A WORK OF ART.

➳ request: Hello, can I request some headcanons for Free! boys' reaction when they see their s/o wearing revealing clothes? Soft or suggestive it's up to you. Thank you for doing my request 💘

➳ character/s: nanase haruka, tachibana makoto, ryugazaki rei, hazuki nagisa, matsuoka rin

➳ warnings: swearing, suggestiveness, dumb tiktok references

➳ notes: i decided to tell this through stupid tiktok audios and then jump into what they actually do. this is fluff, crack, and suggestive so beware for chaos. this post will expose my tiktok fyp..

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 / 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 / 𝐰𝐢𝐩 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

── 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐊𝐀.

‘what on earth, is going on... in the house of commons?’

he probably came back from, like

a swimming practice

n he’s tired

he doesn’t have the mental capacity to comprehend this

and just... stares

you’ve genuinely broken him

but when he does return to earth

he puts his team japan swimming jacket over your shoulders

and continues to stare at you before asking you to just come to bed with him

with a small pout on his lips

and you can’t say no

so this outfit remains for his eyes only

though idk how much sleeping you’ll be getting tbh

── 𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐎.

‘i am calm... i am relaxed... i am a happy tree... YOU ARE MAKING IT VERY HARD TO BE A HAPPY TREE >:((’

he’s trying just to keep it together

and you’re making it difficult

for him not to freak out

and ask you - very panicked - if you plan on going out like that

he’s not gonna stop you if you were

but he’s concerned for creepers on the street

and he doesn’t want you feeling uncomfortable ;v;

he’s very much worried for your safety because he doesn’t trust others

you are indeed making it hard for him to be a happy tree

because you’ll send him into a spiral of anxiety

he can’t deny you look absolutely fucking amazing

so he does give you a lil extra attention

just a lil bit

to convince you to stay with him and the cats in the neighbourhood

── 𝐑𝐘𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐈.

‘it can get weirder. i just washed my hands, that’s why they’re wet... no other reason.’

THIS BITCH WAS READING SMUT

he looks between you and the book over and over again with a bright red blush

covers his face with said book

and is conflicted about whether he try to cover his crotch

or not draw attention to it

when you do point it out

S T U T T E R I N G

he cannot explain it to you coherently

if he does

it sounds so sketchy

and entirely unbelievable

because he failed to keep anything undercover

so here you are, wrapped in blankets he draped over you

lookin like a gremlin

── 𝐇𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐈 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐒𝐀.

‘on a scale of one to ten, my friend, you’re fucked :))’

he will 100% join you

playing dress up is his JAM

he comes back wearing a crop top and mini skirt

some thigh high socks (you don’t know where he found those-)

and takes his phone out to take photos with you

then he pushes you away to the bedroom-

to cuddle you to keep you from going out looking too good for the people

get your mind out of the gutter

but if you do want to go out somewhere like that

he’ll come with

just so he can say

‘they’re staring at US, babe’

what an icon

he would never let you do anything on your own

── 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐎𝐊𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐍.

‘MOMMY DON’T KNOW DADDY’S GETTING HOT-’

the most sexual one

you’re not walking the next day

the FATTEST smirk you’ve ever seen

and a very husky murmur in your ear

plus some roaming hands

‘where do you think you’re goin?’

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

you’re done for

sorry not sorry

your neighbours hate you

he will ask you to wear it again

especially after you guys get a thorough session in

because he can see all the hickeys and marks along your skin

and this bitch is PROUD

what an attractive asshole

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chaoticstarlightwonderland · 14 days

Text

Spy x Family Naegiri + Izuru Kamukura AU

Kyoko Kirigiri as the spy suddenly tasked with making a family appear out of thin air. As a young girl, her father died in the early bombings and her mother, fearing for Kyoko’s safety, sent her on a train to her estranged grandfather. Said grandfather was the leader of an intelligence agency and from then on Kyoko was trained in all things related to spying. Even after her grandfather’s death she still continued with this career, believing that it was her duty to give other people a peaceful lifestyle that she will never be able to truly understand.

Makoto Naegi as the assassin who needed to swallow his moral quandaries to look after his sister. As he has gotten older he felt like he couldn’t leave because a lot of his targets were dangerous people. The current peace is so fragile, he wants to do everything he can so that more people can have hope for the future.

But who would their telepathic child be? I know Shuichi is often depicted as a naegiri baby but I don’t think he is chaotic enough to get into the same shenanigans that Anya does. What character would purposefully cause so much chaos for their own amusement?

Izuru (Kamukura) the young telepath who is desperate for anything to escape the eternal boredom. Everyone’s thoughts are so predictable. Even going to the outside world quickly become boring for the young boy.

Izuru is definitely smarter than Anya in canon, but not as smart as he is in DR. He is good at the sciences, the technical stuff and the hard rules the language and arts, but he is so apathetic that he struggles with emotional nuances in all these subjects. Perhaps the reason why scientists thought he was a failure is because Izuru didn’t care enough about what people thought and the results of the tests.

Whether he escaped or was kicked out, Izuru survives using his telepathy. He decides to use a different name to cover his tracks, calling himself “Hajime” when other people ask. Through all this, nothing reduces his boredom and he never tries to bond with anyone. He gets adopted for his intelligence and kicked out for his creepiness 4 times.

Then one day Kyoko arrives at his orphanage, and Izuru reads the most interesting mind he has ever encountered, the mind of a spy. Surely if there are any people in the world that could keep Izuru entertained, it would be the thrilling, dangerous life of a secret agent. Izuru also supposed they have something in common since Izuru created the “Hajime” identity.

The two have a different bond than Loid and Anya initially. Kyoko and Izuru initially find a decent rapport due to their naturally stoic and analytical personalities. Their first roadblock is when Kyoko has to get Izuru to do something he is not interested in (Such as studying subjects he is not interested in or befriending kids/targets). Kyoko realises the two haven’t actually been acting like parent and child before then. Kyoko buys parenting books for research and realises that Izuru’s behaviour may be a trauma response for his past. Izuru experiences an unknown emotion having an adult not throw him out when he’s being difficult. Also, Kyoko understands Izuru more than other cuz she herself can be very detached to individual problems. For Kyoko it’s due to her upbringing and because she is usually busy focusing on the bigger national issues.

In comes Makoto who takes Yor’s role as the “emotionally intelligent parent” in the family. Izuru immediately wants this harmless-looking deadly assassin under his roof, and tries to set the two adults up. Unlike Anya who sings about she wants a mama, Izuru is probably like “Hello, my mother is a single woman who is considered attractive by many people. How would you like to snatch her up before the rest of the competition.” Complete deadpan 5 year old here. Makoto and Kyoko are very shocked, but they do end up talking and eventually settle into the arrangement they do in canon.

Here Makoto acts as a stronger emotional glue to Kyoko and Izuru as the two are too stoic to develop a proper bond on their own. Makoto is also very caring towards Izuru and tries to be supportive when he knows that Izuru struggles with emotions, either his own or other people. Izuru is a soo a bit shocked by this because before he was always demonised for supposedly having no emotions but Makoto accepts Izuru just the way he is. I think Izuru quickly becomes attached even if the boy can’t explain way, and Makoto is happy to have such a cute stepson.

As for how Makoto covers his assassin skill, unlike Yor with clumsy lies, Makoto has a “talent” for disguising attacks and assassin skills as dumb luck sometimes good sometimes bad. You know that martial art that is based on the fighter being drunk while doing it? Well Makoto is similar except it’s not drunkenness but clumsiness that Makoto uses. Partly out of practice to disguise his skills, and partly due to Makoto-brand luck, it often looks like he slipped and accidentally hit someone so hard they passed out. Or he slipped, tumbled down a hill and landed on the bad guy. Kyoko never gets suspicious because Makoto’s klutziness is so extreme it can’t be faked. Surely.

Like the original all 3 grow to become a family, even if they don’t realise it for a long while. Perhaps the character who ends up with the most change by the end is Izuru turned Hajime.

I see Izuru’s in this AU like this:

In danganronpa, a boy named Hajime turns into lab creation Izuru Kamukura.

In this world, a lab creation called Izuru becomes a boy named Hajime.

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roxxeatzgravel · 3 months

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I don't know why I made this

Why Romeo + Juliet 1996 lowkey implied that gay people (Tybalt) exist

A unorganized essay by Roxx

I firmly believe there is no way Tybalt, Capulet's nephew and Juliet’s cousin, was heterosexual in any way, shape, or form. He is, at least to me, extremely queer coded, whether it was intentional or not. The way Tybalt interacts with the cast screams Internalized Homophobia, from his aggressive and somewhat jealous nature towards Romeo to the banter he and Mercutio shared during their fight, he is just a very queer character and the gays love a enemies to lovers story (I’m the gays)

We don’t see Tybalt interact with Juliet, but I personally would guess they are close, at least as close as cousins are, given they most likely lived a majority of their lives together. If you really look into Romeo’s attempt to calm Tybalt in the play (and most versions) it can read in a homoerotic nature

Tybalt: “Romeo, the love I bear thee can afford, No better term: Thou art a Villain”

Romeo: Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee Doth much excuse the appertaining rage to such a greeting. Villain am I none. Therefore farewell. I see thou knowest me not.” Quote; Act 3 scene 1, they basically just broke up

and the 1996 version of the film doesn’t help this notion of Tybalt having a raging homo crush on Romeo (haha mean girls reference) either, given how close they are standing next to each other and Romeo’s expression, in that film he looks absolutely heartbroken that Tybalt would resort to such violent action and refuses to strike him. that angers Tybalt and he beats Romeo up, talk about romance am I right? (That was sarcasm, don’t beat your partners it’s fucked up), and before this, Tybalt looked at Romeo in a way that made him look almost obsessed with him.

Mercutio and Tybalt are obviously interconnected, they’re not opposites though instead they’re two sides of the same coin, They could even be read as a metaphor for how the hyper-masculinization of Queer men of colour, especially black and dark skinned Queer men, can be harmful and imply the stereotype that men of colour are violent and “uncivilized.”

So Tybalt’s aggressive nature could be read a reflection of his own internalized homophobia and self hatred that has been pushed onto him by society and probably even his own family, While Mercutio’s aggression could be read as a form of self perseverance to keep himself out of harm's way. They both know that if they are openly queer, they are inherently in danger just by existing.

Tybalt, within this context, hates Romeo because he’s in love with him and he can’t fathom the idea of being in love with a man and a Montague no less.

Also he literally calls Romeo “My man”, I know in various contexts that could mean a platonic bond but c’mon, that's pretty damn gay.

So you might be asking, “Why do you think Romeo and Juliet would be better if Romeo and Tybalt were in love instead? And why not Mercutio and Tybalt?” Firstly, no one would’ve died; The entire reason R & J is R & J is because Tybalt was there, what truly sets off the chain reaction of some of the most memorable parts of R & J is Tybalt. If he wasn’t in the room when Romeo and Juliet were talking, R & J wouldn’t exist, and if he was Romeo’s romantic interest instead no one would be dead, Secondly, JULIET IS TOO YOUNG, I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL, and Third, Romeo and Tybalt would have a more interesting dynamic; the idea of Tybalt having to learn how to be vulnerable with a romantic partner is pretty interesting, I don’t think Tybalt could really ever learn to be vulnerable with Mercutio given both of their short tempers (and Mercutio is lowkey a dick but he’s still cool either way) and lack of respect for the others house. Romeo, obviously, is a bleeding heart romantic who is very very dramatic, while Tybalt is a ruthless, blood-thirsty, and closed off jackass who has some form of daddy and/or mommy issues, and that sort of opposites attract dynamic is the most interesting part of the entire idea of Romeo & Tybalt being an item.

it's giving "She likes a boy, She likes a boy, She likes a boy, She likes a boy, and I'm not a boy, I'm not a boy, I'm not a boy, I'm not a boy"

#ramble :3 #romeo + juliet 1996 #romeo x tybalt #its not done but yknow

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kalolasfantasyworld · 1 month

Note

Okay, ask game for you ☘️ Nozel x Vanessa, because I love them 💜 Nozel x Helena, because your OC ship is amazing ❤️ Nozel x Fuegoleon, because Nozel ship 😅 Yes, a bunch of Nozel ships 🥰🦅

Hi Vilandel!

Hah obviously I have some more specific thoughts for Nozel ships. I really hope I won't make anyone upset with these. They're just my opinions.

Nozel x Vanessa -> doesn’t make sense, compels me

Let’s start with saying this is my favourite canon x canon ship for Nozel. I’ve drawn them and read them, but let me explain why it doesn’t canonically make sense to me.

Before I set up tumblr I didn’t even think to ship them together, because they never really interacted (correct me if I’m wrong). I only got to like them once I saw them here and read a bit about them. However it’s hard for me to picture the start of their interaction without some outside force to literally make them. Also long term relationship… but let me get to that later.

Firstly their types based on the assorted questions brigade:

Nozel: “Someone with dignified strength who can give their all for the prosperity of the House of Silva”

I don’t think he’s saying this “just to be proper”. Nozel really cares about his house and I think that a quality of being able to take care of and represent it can make a person attractive in his eyes.

I’m not saying that Vanessa couldn’t just that it would not really be her style. She got out of her cage and pushing her onto Royal customs would be cruel in my opinion. She could definitely not walk around in her underwear, or casually get drunk. She likes this part of herself and is happy being a Black Bull.

Vanessa: “Wild men with muscles <3”

Yeah… That’s not Nozel (I admit I have drawn him with way more muscles than he has… It’s a hot art I’m not going to change it and yes a future Paper Hearts illustration, normally I draw him skinnier)

Why does it compel me? (Because it does a lot)

They are both one of my favourites BC characters.

Nozel is not a good boy (closeted perv let’s face it) and Vanessa is definitely up for some heated adventure. Both are very hot. She’s flirty, she’ll pull him out of his shell. They could support one another and emotionally I think they would work well. I enjoy them in fics and the stories are amazing. I love how she would flirt with him and he would get more and more bold as they grew closer. Also there is that spicy forbidden romance part.

There are actually quite a few similarities between Vanessa and Helena as they’re best friends and I enjoy how those qualities shine through her interactions with Nozel.

I see Nozessa so much in a heated, passionate romance. It’s just long term that doesn’t sit right with me… I feel like they would need to sacrifice a part of themselves to be with the other and I wouldn’t want that. She needs to be free and Nozel is a Royal who takes pride in it, it’s not just his burden.

Nozel x Helena -> makes sense, compels me (you said it yourself, how could own OC ship not)

Overall I talked a bit about them in my fic explanation post.

I created Helena to explore Nozel more. This is actually my first ever OC x canon ship that I've invested in, because I'm more of a canon x canon shipper. Just that I only knew of Dorothy x Nozel and Fuego x Nozel back then and they didn't really appeal to me as something to write for and have a fun story for.

Why do they make sense?

Despite them being so different there are actually quite a few parallels between them. For example both had a situation in their youth, which somehow set them on a path. They’re both the eldest siblings. And there are few more.

Similar backgrounds for sure. Both of them are Royals and take pride in their houses. Helena will be a great lady of the house. She was prepared for this and knows how to perfectly manoeuvre in high society. She can be a great support and simply a partner to him in his duties.

She’s his type from the assorted questions brigade. (yeah the pervy part as well xd)

Helena brings in the warmth and will provide a family atmosphere. Being the eldest of seven siblings taught her that. She “fits” in the Silva family with Noelle, Nebra and Solid. Over time she develops relationships with all of them, so it’s not just Nozel she makes sense with.

Why does it compel me?

Enemies to friends to lovers, Sunshine x grumpy, Blue x red relationship

They have so many imperfections and they mess up, but they get up and try to fix them. There's also quite a lot of plot ahead of us and I don't want to spoil anything, but what happens later is actually more determining in my opinion to how they are fit for and grow with one another.

There are also some parallels with how Nozel treated Noelle and how he treats Helena, so that’s interesting.

Helena is a virgin, but very much not opposed to sexuality, so they have some spicy, heated moments.

I feel like they can really connect on a deeper level and I like how their story begins right with the beginning of BC. We see the whole development of Nozel and how they interact through it. For example how their relationship changed after Fuego fell in a coma. So it's not just Nozel after he went through a change and apologised to Noelle.

They compliment each other. Helena “makes Nozel have fun” and he can tone her down (this is needed at times).

The birdies… I love my next gen trio so much. I like how they have traits inherited after both Nozel and Helena. I love picturing them as parents.

I feel like there’s more, but I’ve talked about them enough here.

Nozel x Fuegoleon -> makes sense, doesn’t greatly compel me

As you probably noticed I focus a lot on the “Royal aspects” in the makes sense part and Fuego fits this part. They are close, clearly trust each other and they have amazing dynamics. They’re childhood friends. I’ve seen some cute arts for them and I know they’re pretty popular.

However why it doesn’t greatly compel me? (Besides the fact that I ship both of them with some OCs)

I just think of them as good friends, more than lovers. And somehow I’m not the biggest fan of how Nozel is portrayed in this relationship. He somehow seems “weak” and “needs to be taken care off”. Maybe that’s just me, but it was the vibe I got from few works (not all of them, some were cute and amazing). Maybe I somehow don’t see him have “bottom” energy, but Fuego doesn’t have it either.

However they would support and care for one another. I also love the hot and cold dynamics and childhood friends romance.

So I like some aspects of this ship and some don’t.

I would still put it as my second canon x canon Nozel ship.

#Lots of thoughts here #Thanks for asking!#I really hope I haven't offended anyone #ship who you want to ship #nozel x helena #nozessa #nozel x vanessa #nozelena #nozel x fuegoleon #ask game #bs ships ask game #nozel ships #bc ships ask game

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specializationisforinsects · 6 months

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On Names, Meaning, and Self-Determination

aka ✨✨I woke up wondering about the significance of the name Anthony at three am and I'm now certifiably insane ✨✨

Good Omens is undeniably a queer allegory, and also at the heart a story about self-determination and free will. I think I’ve discovered something related to these two things that I haven’t heard anyone talk about, and it’s making me loco.

Choosing one’s own name is a very queer (often trans but more broadly queer) action; a way to assert and affirm one’s identity, often in opposition to a power structure that existed in a previous iteration of one’s life - our hero does this several times. Let’s take a closer look:

(Disclaimer: I’m using he/him for Crowley here for clarity and because the show and book often do.)

Starmaker [???] -> Crawly

We get to see Angel!Crowley, popularly called the Starmaker, in the opening shots of season two. Whatever the Starmaker's name was, he's insistent at several times throughout history that that is no longer him:

"I knew the angel you were." / "The angel you knew is not me." "You were an angel once." / "That was a very long time ago."

I love that the narrative never tells us what Angel!Crowley's name is - and I hope it bears out in season three. That's not him, and quite clearly he doesn't want to be (mistaken for) that angel ever again.

When we see him again, (chronologically) Crawly is now fallen from grace, a serpent demon, introducing himself to Aziraphale on the wall of the Garden of Eden after all that business with the apple. This is pretty clearly a callback to Genesis 3:14:

And the LORD God said unto the serpent, Because thou hast done this, thou art cursed above all cattle, and above every beast of the field; upon thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shalt thou eat all the days of thy life:

(Even though...chronologically...I think he had that name before tempting Eve.)

Crawly -> Crowley

In Golgotha, he cites Crawly as "too...squirming at your feet-ish" which again is not him (except for some *cough* situations into which I will not delve here) anyway

The shift from Crawly to Crowley is a subtle one, just a few letters. It speaks to me of a quiet rebellion against Hell, not changing so much that it attracts a lot of attention, but nevertheless rejecting the role Hell has cast him in.

[sorry my gifs suck so bad. It's quicker to grab a snippet than find someone else's better gifs.]

Aziraphale is surprised by this, but not unpleasantly so.

Crowley is making it clear he will only go along with Hell as far as he can. He doesn’t use their name for him, he’s not fully on their side. He still sees himself as a demon (unforgivable) but he’s taken some of his power and agency back. He won’t go blindly along with either Heaven or Hell, he’s asserting his independence.

(I don't know much about the meaning of this name, other than the fact that it's an Irish surname. Doubtless, there's some connection to Aleister Crowley. It's also apparently a maritime logistics company that will "Build and Operate the First Fully Electric U.S. Tugboat". Good for them!

It also reminds me of crows. I have a soft spot for bad boys who model their image after corvids as a defense mechanism.)

Anyway, part II. This brings us to the part that I woke up at three am thinking about.

Crowley, Anthony J.

"The famous Mr. Crowley!"

Here's what we’ve (fandom) spent a lot of time focusing on:

“What's the J for?” / “Just a J, really.”

Here's what I propose we focus on instead:

“Antony?” / “You don’t like it?” / “I didn’t say that! I’ll get used to it.”

Anthony. Why Anthony?

Anthony's not a name that appears in the Bible, but there are a few historical Anthonys we may know…

Marc Antony

(Most of this is pulled directly from wikipedia.)

Marc Antony was one of the Second Triumverate, a group of three men who ruled Rome after the assassination of Julius Caesar. Politically there were a lot of power struggles between them, and Antony married the sister of one of the other men (Octavian) in the triumvirate, as a kind of peacekeeping political move. However, Antony’s territory included Egypt and the young queen Cleopatra.

There were a lot of wars and sieges - I’m not gonna pretend I understand it, but basically Antony was hanging out in Egypt with Cleopatra and Octavian consolidated power in Rome, and started a smear campaign against Antony.

He argued that Antony was a man of low morals to have left his faithful wife abandoned in Rome with the children to be with the promiscuous queen of Egypt. Antony was accused of everything, but most of all, of "going native", an unforgivable crime to the proud Romans. Several times, Antony was summoned to Rome, but remained in Alexandria with Cleopatra.

Going native?? Where have we heard that before?

Octavian and other Roman Senators believed that turning the hostilities towards Cleopatra as the villain would gather the most support from Romans for war. […] Octavian's publication of [Antony’s will (alleged)] which named Antony and Cleopatra's children as heirs and directed his burial in Alexandria, was used as a political weapon in Rome to declare war against Cleopatra and Egypt as a whole. Octavian, now close to absolute power, invaded Egypt in August, 30 BC. With no other refuge to escape to, Antony stabbed himself with his sword in the mistaken belief that Cleopatra had already done so. When he found out that Cleopatra was still alive, his friends brought him to Cleopatra's monument in which she was hiding, and he died in her arms.

Oof. Choosing their own side under pain of death.

St. Anthony of Padua

Okay I’m not religious, and I'm tired of spending time on catholic websites but here are a few bullet points I found to make me scream

Saint Anthony is known in Portugal, Spain, and Brazil as a marriage saint, because legends exist of him reconciling couples.

Saint Anthony of Padua is known as the patron saint of lovers, often prayed to for meeting one's soulmate or finding lost love.

Pope Leon XII referred to him as “the saint of the world.”

Anthony

We don’t learn about the name “Anthony” until 1941, meaning that Crowley chose it for himself sometime after 1862 and before 1941. During a period of separation from Aziraphale after one of their bitterest arguments, he picks a human name for himself.

So, finally (jk this was first, but…)

I looked up the meaning of the name Anthony and (allegedly) it means “highly praiseworthy” or “priceless one”.

Take a minute.

The implications of this being a name he’s chosen for HIMSELF??

That maybe he hopes Aziraphale will call him??

That, to my knowledge in the show, Aziraphale hasn’t called him??

In conclusion

(I made myself crazy with this, please scream with me a little bit? I gotta go take a shower and wash the catholic websites off.)

#good omens #meta #anthony j crowley

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wigglebox · 2 years

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NYCC The Winchesters - 1x01 screening, panel

Good morning/afternoon/evening people!

So I had to take a break from art in order to write down my first impressions on things for the prequel pilot and the subsequent panel after.

Note that I haven’t had any time to watch any interviews the folks did before the screening/panel, so this is just me writing what I experienced in ~*the room where it happened*~. The bulk will be behind a read more!

** Note, I try to avoid mega spoilers but I do go into my impressions of the pilot and my emotions with it, AND I do outline the characters. I try not to get into the nitty gritty since y’all will mostly be seeing it tomorrow anyway, but if you don’t want even a HINT of a spoiler, just don’t read it lol.

The tldr; I loved it, it has so much to expand on, and I can’t wait to start speculating with y’all again on something SPN based.

—

I won’t lie, I was nervous.

Not because I didn’t think this show wouldn’t do a good job, because it’s made it this far — which is a lot considering the last two attempts at a spin-off were dead in the water. I was more or less nervous of the audience reception.

Living in one's own head as a Supernatural fan makes you and your goldfish bowl of friends in your Twitter GC and Discord servers, have a set of parameters of what makes a good Supernatural episode or not. But not everyone else shares those parameters that you have convinced yourself are right.

And I was nervous because, given those parameters, I had to keep reminding myself that this isn’t Supernatural. It is its own thing. It’s its own form, own show, with a connection to the main show. These are new characters, even if we knew the older versions of two of them already. Everything is still basically brand new.

My nerves came from a mixture of anticipation, fearing audience reception after the year and a half wait we had to think about this show, and not knowing if I or the audience can see this show as its own individual self and not just another Supernatural episode.

Suffice to say after like, the first five minutes those nerves were gone.

The Pilot

I’m going to get this out of the way before I continue. Pilots aren’t ever perfect. Even Supernatural’s pilot, which is a pilot that I consider to be top-tier, has some clunkiness.

Pilots can drag, or pilots can speed — there’s rarely an inbetween. The Winchesters pilot seemed to be a little fast paced, trying to introduce the premise of the show a little too quick. The pacing of events and understanding and dialogue kind of felt like this should have been a two hour episode and not the 40 minute one we’re going to get.

And, some of the dialogue, just like in its predecessor, was indeed clunky exposition.

But I’m saying this as someone who yes, understands that’s what that was — but also someone who doesn’t take this into account when it comes to what makes a pilot successful. In fact, I never expect perfection in pilots.

The Winchesters pilot has a lot riding on it. Not only is it the third attempt at a spin off, but it’s having to perform two duties where the original Supernatural pilot only had to do one.

The Winchesters pilot has to both grab old fans, and intrigue new ones. The original Supernatural pilot just had to attract new fans and build up a new world.

So, given that The Winchesters has to do a little extra work, and given that it’s a network pilot, a pilot in general — for me — the fast-paced nature of the episode doesn’t really affect it negatively for me. I expected it, and I’m sure others did as well.

A successful pilot for me is 1) am I interested in this world/characters 2) did you make me ask enough questions to come back next week?

And, The Winchesters scored on both of those accounts!

The episode opens up with its standard cold open where you mostly see a character you have no idea who they are, doing something that’s going to launch you into the next 45 minutes of adventure with the main characters. But, this cold open also has to launch us into the entire season. It’s the first-ever cold open for The Winchesters and it worked very well.

I’m not going to get too much into plot, to keep this spoiler free, however I will say in my head I described it as the Scooby Doo Avengers. When I say Scooby Doo I don’t mean campy, zoinks, goofy monsters of the week — but that there is this team, that is clearly already close, willing to do what it takes to figure something out. And... they have a van lol.

In the group there is tension already from the get go, which I love. By group, I mean Lata [Latika but Lata is her nickname], Mary, and Carlos have already known each other.

Small spoiler, but at once point Lata tells, not asks, Mary “You’re still mad at me.” Carlos and Mary have tension and unresolved past things that they gotta talk about at some point probably. And John blends in with them rather effortlessly. I will say I’ll be keeping my eyes on John and Lata right now.

But all four of them had a chemistry that already worked. Not like “Oh we all love each other here, no problems at all!” kind of chemistry, but chemistry where you can tell that interactions aren’t being forced. Almost like they’ve been acting together for years by that point, even though they hadn’t.

That was another thing I enjoyed about this core four, the fact that they’re each their own characters but they’re also not standing out too much from each other. That they both don’t blend into each other, but also they’re not so over the top it feels like a caricature.

Here are my first impressions of the characters:

Lata is a book nerd, clearly the “brains” but she’s also rather timid, nervous about hunts, and finds her satisfying success when it comes to what she’s learned on the page rather than hunting down a monster. She’s softer-spoken, and I can see her being the more level-headed grounded one of the group. However, I can also see where her self doubt can get the better of her, and her fear, and given a conversation she has with Mary in the van — I have to wonder if something bad happened in the recent past that made her like this.

Mary is the kind of Mary I felt like we got with Sam Smith. Marching forward, doing what she has to do, almost “going through the motions” of being a Hunter. She already voices her desire to walk away from this, and it’s hinted in that conversation with Lata, something went wrong recently that caused a big upheaval in her life. But that’s kind of a plot point that can be saved for when you watch it Tuesday. Of all four of the characters, it felt like I knew Mary the most because we got later-seasons Mary for a hot second. However, you can see how Meg Donnelly brings her own understanding of the character to the table. I am so very interested to see where she goes throughout this series.

Carlos will be the problem child (affectionate). When the role was first cast, and you got his description, you saw JoJo getting cast, and then seeing him in the trailer, folks already pinged on him being the fandom favorite and I can see that. He’s sharp, witty, already has some one-liners, and I can easily see him causing but also solving problems for the group. One thing that gets me is that he comes across as almost stubborn, not willing to admit when he’s wrong, so I can imagine that comes back into play. That indication comes with a small conversation with Lata over something that happened in the past. It’s played off as a “ha ha,” but if you think about it deeper, you’re seeing someone who knows what he wants and likely will do what he has to do to get it. There are definitely two Alphas in this group, Carlos and Mary, and I can see them butting heads at some point.

And now we’re at John.

When this prequel was first leaked onto Deadline in June 2021, folks (save for myself and a few others that were on my timeline and Discord) immediately rocketed to their feet to voice their displeasure at John being a focal point.

Accusations of trying to twist the narrative and make excuses for John’s behavior in Supernatural-Prime (neglect, child abuse, etc.), or that the constant reminder that John and Mary’s love story was manufactured so how on earth could you have a story about it — or just the attitude in fandom that’s been in there since I’VE started, back in 2013, that John Winchester is an Asshole.

But, a few pointed out that indeed we don’t actually know anything about John aside from his father, Henry, “walking out” on him and his mother, and… that was it. The flashback episodes we had with Matt Cohen’s John were that of a story that we kinda already figured. “In the Beginning” was more about Mary and showing Dean how that deal was made, and “The Song Remains the Same” served as a lesson for Dean and Sam to understand that they “can’t escape fate” with their bloodline.

Nothing’s really known about John at all, especially before 1973.

That being said, I really have to spend this portion completely cheering Drake’s John on because holy moly.

Drake has, and will continue to have, an uphill battle trying to get the most hardened Anti-John folk on board (a struggle Matt Cohen didn’t have to have as much I think). But, given the life that he’s brought to John in this pilot alone, I don’t think it’ll be too much of a struggle.

I joked that with them casting Drake that “it’s almost like they want us to love and adore him” but I’m not even joking anymore. I adore him.

Indeed, it’s important to note that this John is not the John we wind up with in the main show. And the cast and everyone involved knows that and have stated as such in interviews. They’re not erasing or rewriting anything.

The truth, for me, is far more tragic:

The John in the pilot is likable with an almost puppy-like innocence, looking to get answers but also someone dealing with trauma himself as someone who went into the Vietnam War way too early and suffered the consequences of that. I won’t get into specifics, but there’s a touching moment when he’s describing what he saw and what happened to a dear friend and I almost cried.

You have a kid, and yes I’m calling him a kid, suffering from this trauma in a way that you see twice in the episode, while also someone keeping his head held high while following orders and the motions from his new group of Scooby Doo hunters that he stumbled into.

When asked how he found someone so fast, John remarks that’s what he does because he was in the Marines. So we get little glimpses of that.

His ending moment after the final climax of the action was so adorable I wanted to squish his cheeks and yes, I know that’s weird, but he was so proud of himself.

But, in my opinion, it also demonstrated something that I think may or may not come back — and that’s that he did what he did down there in the tomb almost a little too easily and without freaking out. And was excited to tell his new friends about it.

John in this show I think will become someone that even the most reluctant watchers may come to find they really like.

And to me, that’s making him automatically, from episode one, one of the most tragic characters.

Already in the pilot, I was mentally screaming for John to turn back, don’t investigate, don’t do any of this, because we know what’s waiting for him down this path.

I have to mentally make a line in the sand to separate Drake from Matt from JDM because there’s no way I can continue going with The Winchesters and not completely support and adore John and his efforts to understand the Men of Letters and also being with his friends.

With characters out of the way, I’ll mention we don’t get much with Ada or Millie, however I can’t wait to see more of them in the future and what they have to offer. Millie seemingly already knew about the Men of Letters and Ada — in my head when she was first announced as a character I saw her as a Bobby character, just the know it all that can be their “save us because we don’t know what else to do!” character. However it feels like she can, and likely will be, more than that.

As for the plot of the episode, this is where my “Is a pilot successful” requirement is filled for “Are there enough questions to keep me coming back.”

The answer is, holy shit yes.

Particularly two things, which I can’t wait to speculate on when the episode airs. One involves John and his letter with the Men of Letters star on it, and the other of who the big bad is for the entire season. I’m so excited to speculate with people on that.

But also, this hunters world in the 1970s is so different to me than what we were first introduced to in 2005. They don’t have cell phones, they don’t have GPS, they don’t have computers, they don’t have quick ways of communicating with each other. They will have a network, sure, but its the 70s. They also don’t have access to THEE Men of Letters bunker, at least for now, which holds a lot of information as well.

So I have questions about those too.

I didn’t want this show to just be about “hey let’s do a case study on John” and it doesn’t feel like it’s going to be that. I don’t mind that, but I also wanted this show to stand on its own.

And it’s clear that they’re looking at it in a way that will provide an actual story that can get folded back into Supernatural-Prime.

The Panel

After the pilot screening, there was a 30 minute panel with Danneel, Jensen, Meg, Drake, and Robbie and holy wow.

I wish I could convey to anyone reading this, especially anyone who had any doubts over anything, just how much this group cares.

Like, it’s not even just in their words saying it, but you can feel it, and I wasn’t even in the front row. It was this like, almost electrical current in the air that could reach you and make you truly, fully, 100% understand that they’re not doing this just for kicks.

They’re not just tossing aside whatever they want, that they’re not just doing this as a cash grab or anything — but that they’re a team of creatives that really truly wholly believe in this world that the main show created and wanted to explore that more.

They do treat the existing material with respect, and that they’re not going to just throw all those 15 years of blood sweat and tears down the drain.

I remember in the months following the Deadline leak, folks online kept stamping their feet about canon this and canon that. We haven’t had much press until just recently about it therefore come comments that would be made at a Supernatural convention by Jackles from time to time would have to suffice, but still didn’t convince many.

I think at the time also, when the Deadline leak happened, a lot of opposition I saw came from younger fans, or newer fans, who started season 12 and onward (or even after the show ended) and didn’t quite understand just how monumental it was that Robbie was brought on board.

Robbie stopped writing for the show in season 11 and I wanted to take an informal survey of fandom asking them if they truly understood the word that he did. Some folks don’t pay attention to who writes what.

His episodes I find tend to be some of the most gif’ed episodes on Tumblr or most talked about episodes in general. Any one of his episodes you’d likely find up in any fan’s top 10 list. He’s given us Charlie, Eileen, and even had a hand in bringing Chuck back both in Fan Fiction and in Don’t Call Me Shurely.

For many folks who were in fandom before Andrew Dabb took over some time in season 11, Robbie was easily one of the top three writers for many people.

And there’s a good reason for that. Between writing snappy dialogue and getting characterizations down really well, he’s also seemingly a master at these unconventional episodes. He’s had more normal ones like Goodbye Stranger, 8x17, and First Born (9x11) among others, but he’s also done Baby, Girl with the Dungeons and Dragons Tattoo, LARP and the Real Girl, Bitten, Fan Fiction, Meta Fiction and the like.

He’s written episodes that were great for character showcasing while also having unconventional storytelling apparatuses as well. My favorite one of his episodes was Time After Time, 7x12.

Suffice it to say, them grabbing Robbie for this project really stood out to me, which is probably why when Deadline first leaked the project, I wasn’t upset. To me, if Robbie was involved, then that’s really all I needed to feel secure in knowing that whatever, or however, they were going to tell this story, he’ll have fun figuring it out.

And I can’t even begin to describe how much it really does come across how much Jackles cares.

It’s very very easy for someone with that amount of talent to just peace out from a 15-year show that ended, a show that likely made taking other roles nearly impossible, and just go on to do bigger things.

But the fact that he stuck around and that even before the show wrapped in Sept. 2020 (due to the pandemic) he was already starting on this? That means a lot to me. Like, no matter what he does, he seems to want to keep one hand on his roots and that can only benefit us because you don’t do that unless you really believe in it and care about it.

It’s also hilarious to me that in these press interviews, he’s basically being outed as THEE biggest SPN brain rot stan and, he’s not alone there. We have jackets, dude!

So yes, up on stage, with them answering questions and describing the process, how they’re viewing this — you can tell there’s a reverence they have for the material and understand truly how much time, energy, blood, sweat, tears, smiles, sadness, chaos had gone into the main show.

The pilot was good, it was something that would keep me interested with the characters they presented and the premise of the rest of the season to come. It established that we’re not in 2005-2020 anymore, it established a kind of big bad that we’re not used to seeing*, and it had enough easter eggs that satisfied my little Supernatural heart but not over doing it.

*This is something I can’t wait to speculate about.

On a personal note, I’ve been excited since that night, and had felt almost like I was in limbo for the last year and a half waiting for this moment and it was so satisfying seeing the pilot and understanding that my excitement and enthusiasm wasn’t misplaced in the slightest.

I went into this with the question of “Will I be disappointed in all of this hype that I’ve helped build up for this, both in my head and outwardly?” And the screening and panel shot back: “Nah you’re good.”

So I can’t wait to rewatch this Tuesday night, and then I can’t wait to watch it the following Tuesday, and again, and again.

I’m excited for The Winchesters to grow its wings and fly!

#long post #spnwin #the winchesters #spn #supernatural #nycc22 #i left out a lot of spoilery things #and still can be kinda spoilery so keep that in mind!

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