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#even in hiatus he makes my life more difficult
heesdreamer · 23 days
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FIRST SUMMER
PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader
SUMMARY ➩ you and your bestfriends brother (possibly your mortal enemy) are both given the task of renovating your childhood lake house during the final summer before it’s sold
WARNINGS ➩ light smut, heeseung and reader aren’t super nice to each other most the time
WC ➩ 14.5k
AUTHORS NOTE ➩ Well.. officially out of retirement with this one I hope! I started this august of last year and abandoned it during my hiatus so picking up where I left off was a bit difficult and I apologize for any changes in writing styles. This isn’t my favorite thing I’ve written but I hope you guys enjoy it, thank you always for waiting for me. NOT PROOFREAD NO PART 2
You wondered if Lee Heeseung had been put on this earth for the sole purpose of making your life more difficult.
He’d probably argue this assumption with the fact he had been born before you, his main reasoning behind his many claims that you were the one copying him and making his life a living hell and not the other way around. He was a measly two years older than you but never failed to bring it up and use it against you.
Heeseung had been in your life for as long as you could remember and you absolutely never got along.
It wasn’t a big issue at first considering you were kids and had no real need to be around each other. The playgrounds were big enough for the both of you and your parents saw no reason to force a connection between the two of you, despite the fact you were neighbors and the two pairs of adults actually got along quite well.
Similarly to you and Heeseung’s little sister, a small girl who was born in the same year as you but nearly your polar opposite in personality. At first you’d been hesitant when she started to show up to play with the older boy, knowing him by now as the enemy and assuming she was going to be just as wicked and terrible. It only took watching her push him down onto wood chips once for you to decide to be her best friend.
The boy had scowled from his place on the ground, grumpily picking pieces of the wood from the fabric of his sweater and watching the two of you run off together towards the swings.
He’d failed to understand the power of your friendship in that moment and now 15 years later he was still paying the price, stuck with the two of you constantly. You and Jiwoo almost seemed more like siblings than they did, attached at the hip and never going too long without talking to each other.
Which is why it was all the more annoying that you and Heeseung could never seem to get along, reverting right back to being two kids arguing on the playground every time you saw each other, which was quite often. You’d practically moved into the Lee’s house next door during high school and you were even a frequent guest on their family vacations, their mom booking a place with an extra bed for you before she even asked if you were available.
You weren’t exactly sure why the two of you didn’t get along. He was nice enough to other people and sometimes he cracked jokes that nearly made you laugh, only nearly. For some reason he just brought out a terrible side of you that you didn’t really understand and you were certain you did the same for him.
It was easier now that you were out of school and entering adulthood, not having any major reasons to constantly see each other and his parents didn’t have to force him to drive you and Jiwoo around places now that you had your own cars.
He was definitely still around though and you were trying your best to act civilly despite that inner part of you always preparing for an argument to break out between you.
Especially right now considering the fact he kept kicking your leg underneath the table at the restaurant both your families were eating together at. The Lee’s cousin was in town and you’d always been particularly interested in him, being a total sucker for an accent and a good beach tan.
You sent a glare to your right in Heeseung’s direction when he kicked you for the third time and jammed your heel against the bone in his leg, ignoring the grunt of pain he let out as he bent slightly forward to grab onto his shin. His mom sent him a concerned glance before remembering who he was sitting next to and rolling her eyes as she looked away from the two of you.
You were watching Jake as he talked animatedly about his life guarding job back in his hometown, leaning forward and resting your chin on your palm to show your interest despite the fact you weren’t fully listening.
It was difficult to considering the constant distraction sitting beside you, another kick being sent to the leg of your chair so you jolted slightly to the side. You whipped your head around to look at him again, immediately replacing your interested and awed look with one of hatred and disgust.
“What the hell is your problem?” You were spitting at him in a low whisper, grateful the table was big enough that the others weren’t really paying attention to you. Although they had to have expected an argument eventually considering they sat the two of you together, breaking an unspoken rule that had been built up throughout the years.
“Stop trying to seduce my cousin.” He was spitting back and his eyebrows were pulled down tight in a sharp glare, keeping eye contact with you in an attempt to intimidate you.
“Mind your own business.” Your response was quick and tight, slightly embarrassed he’d caught you staring but too angry to care.
You turned back to try and focus in on the conversation again but now you were suddenly overly aware of the fact Heeseung was sitting next to you and watching what you were doing, looking for any opportunity to tease you and start up an argument. You sighed softly and leaned back in your chair with crossed arms, keeping a scowl on your face and letting the dinner pass by without speaking again.
“You know, I figured the two of you would eventually start getting along once you became adults.” Your mothers tone was laced with lighthearted disappointment after the dinner, walking ahead of you on the rock path leading up to your front door.
You could hear your father laughing softly in front of her at the idea of your life long feud being laid to rest, a frown instinctively coming up on your face at their inside joke.
Glancing over to the side, looking past the small stretch of grass that separated your pathway from the Lee’s, you saw Heeseung sporting a similar dejected expression and you wondered for a second if he was hearing the same lecture you’d been getting after dinners for as long as you can remember. Then he was looking over towards you and meeting your gaze in the low light of the summer sun setting, eyes immediately hardening into a glare that you quickly returned.
It was hard not to think about it later on in bed, eyes trained on the old plastic stars on your ceiling that didn’t glow anymore. Your hands were folded on your stomach and you were tapping your thumbs softly on the smooth skin in contemplation.
Sometimes, although you’d rather die than admit it to anyone, you also didn’t understand why you and Heeseung didn’t just stop fighting.
He was kind to Jiwoo in a way that always made you envy having siblings and despite his constant teasing he never declined driving her places or picking up food for her when she didn’t feel like going out. And he was even kinder to your parents, treating them like his own and having manners enough for the three of you growing up.
It was like you were dealing with a completely different person, him falling into that same angry glare the moment you’d step into a room. Sometimes he’d be mid story with a group of friends, being charming and funny as he recanted something and exaggerated moments to get a few more chuckles. You’d watch from a far for a bit and then slowly approach and every single time he’d pause for a moment, looking completely thrown off by your arrival, and then tensing up and losing track of what he was saying.
Your presence just seemed to bug him and as the two of you got older it affected you more. You didn’t mind the fact he wouldn’t play with you when you were kids, never dwelled over him saying you had cooties or getting dirt on your favorite stuffed animals.
But the fact he still continued to hate you as you aged and matured, settling into your respective personalities and lives, you couldn’t help but be offended he disliked you so much.
“He’s just weird.” Jiwoo had explained to you once when you were both seventeen, sprawled out on her bed and flipping through a magazine as she addressed you. “You shouldn’t think too deeply about it.”
Heeseung had just graduated high school and you’d all attended the ceremony, both families getting reserved seats per his request.
It had actually gone well for once, he didn’t seem upset that you were there and he had even hugged you alongside your parents when he came off the stage and your mother handed him a bouquet of celebratory flowers. Mrs. Lee had shot you a surprised glance and then a supportive thumbs up and you gave her a soft smile in return, figuring he was just so excited to have graduated that he was managing to tolerate you being there.
The Lee’s had taken advantage of the fact your backyards combined into each other, no fencing between them, and the two pairs of parents had decorated the space for a small party for the older boy.
You were excited to go, especially since Heeseung hadn’t demanded an explanation for your invitation, and you even managed to make some good amount of conversation with a few of his friends.
The conversation was swiftly interrupted when you felt a hand wrapped around the middle of your arm, tugging you a few inches backwards to get your attention. You whipped around to see who it was and you were met with an angry looking Heeseung, looking more familiar to you than the smiley version of him you’d seen earlier.
“Why are you talking to my friends?” His voice was accusatory like you’d done something wrong and he sounded so upset that for a second you felt like you had.
Your mouth had parted in confusion, fumbling for words and coming up short from the shock of his sudden confrontation and also the embarrassment of the situation considering he wasn’t exactly being subtle with his anger and the boy behind you could definitely hear every word he was saying.
“Chill out Hee, we were just making simple conversation.” Jay proved you right by speaking from over your shoulder but you didn’t bother looking at him, keeping your eyes locked on Heeseung and wincing softly at the way his face hardened at his friend defending you. “Cmon man, I know better than to-“
“Do you know better? Because it doesn’t seem like it.” Heeseung was cutting him off at the same time he was removing his gaze from yours, breaking you slightly out of the worried spell you were under as he looked at his friend from over your shoulder.
You weren’t exactly sure what they were talking about but you assumed Heeseung had warned his friends against speaking to you. It took you back a bit, despite knowing he didn’t like you.
The two of you definitely didn’t get along but you were still very close regardless if you liked it or not and you spent a lot of time together, so it hurt you more than you expected it to that he hated you enough to actively try and keep his friends from interacting with you, enough to the point he’d embarrass you and cause a scene at the sight of it.
“Hee I’m sorry.” His eyes snapped back down towards you at the sound of your quiet voice, completely out of character for you to not be fighting back or making a snarky remark.
It seemed to throw him off enough that his anger faltered for a second, looking concerned for a moment as he stared down at you before his jaw was tightening again and his face hardened back up.
You weren’t sure why you didn’t bother to snap back at him, if it was from the embarrassment of being ripped out of a conversation and scolded like a dog who’d gotten into the trash or if it was actual disappointment at his behavior despite the fact you definitely should’ve been used to it.
“I think you should head home. Parties almost over anyways.” He was eventually saying and it was directed towards you although his eyes had dragged back over your shoulder to look at Jay.
You figured he had looked away because he was feeling slightly guilty for embarrassing you and not being fought back in return, or maybe he was disgusted with you and didn’t want to look at you.
Still, his tone wasn’t as angry anymore although just as hard and stern, and you nodded softly before stepping sideways out from between the two tall boys. You knew he was lying about the party being over soon but it had ended for you anyways and you had no issue leaving it and going to the safety of your bedroom.
Jiwoo had caught the end of the encounter and caught up with you as you speedily walked away from the boys who had started to angrily murmur at each other, hence leading to the conversation about her brother in your bedroom and her explaining he was just being weird.
“Jay is a total playboy though, you should steer clear of him.” Her nose was curling up in disgust as she made the casual comment but a small pout formed on your face, wondering if Heeseung thought you were going to hookup with his friend and that’s why he was extra aggressive about it.
Eventually you let it pass from your mind to become just another bullet point in the long list of things Heeseung had done to show you he truly disliked you.
It was a lot easier to start to dislike him back, easier to fight with him and snap insults rather than get confused and sad about why he treated you so differently. So your routine was set in stone even deeper and neither of you ever faltered, not during birthdays or relative weddings or even your own graduation two years later.
So it wasn’t exactly an easy thing to handle when your parents and the Lee’s were sitting you all down to explain that your family lake house was going to be sold at the end of the summer.
“Wait why would you ever sell it?” Jiwoo was blurting out before they got the chance to explain and you had a permanent frown on your face as you waited to hear their response.
You watched your dad and Mr. Lee exchange a heavy but meaningful look, like there was something they’d already discussed amongst themselves in regards of how to tell you. You were sat on the left of Jiwoo, Heeseung on her right and for some reason you had to resist the urge to lean forward and see what his expression was.
“We’ve decided, now that you three are all grown up, it was just time. We figured we’d use the money to travel during the summer or save towards retirement.”
It made sense as your dad started to speak but you felt a weird clenching in your stomach at the thought of not having the lake house to go to anymore.
Realistically he was completely right and you’d started to neglect the yearly trips out there, taking them for granted and not appreciating the time you got to spend at the house. You didn’t even go at all the last two years, finding yourself too caught up with things so unimportant you don’t even remember them now.
The lake house was a tradition that was instilled before any of you were even born, a collaborative effort of your parents to try and bring some fun and adventure to your summers since you grew up so close to the city.
“So it’s just gone?” Heeseung was speaking for the first time since the meeting was called and you were surprised to hear how thick his voice was with upset, clearly more affected by the breaking news than you and his sister. You caved to the urge and leaned forward a bit to try and get a look at him but Jiwoo shot you a sideways glance and you quickly sat back in place.
“Well not exactly.” Mrs. Lee’s voice was soft as always and you watched as she reached across the small space between the seven of you and gently rubbed her sons knee, giving him a soft smile and an encouraging nod. “We will have one last summer with it, mostly for renovations before the new owners come to look at it.”
You knew exactly what she was talking about when she said renovations, hearing your dad complain about the rotting in the deck and the holes in the inside walls for years now but never making the time to fix them.
But you weren’t fully understanding what they had planned for the three of you yet and you wished you had in that moment so maybe you could have come up with an excuse faster. They explained to you softly, attempting to lessen the blow, that you would have to go and stay at the lake house for a few weeks and fix up the place to make it look brand new for the new owners.
You weren’t at all against getting to be up there one last time, breathing in the clear air and having campfires on the sand, but you definitely didn’t want to sign up to spend your summer doing free manual labor.
Your parents left no room for argument and you could see the prepared disappointment on their faces so you offered no reason for it to escape, hesitantly agreeing with the plan and waiting to hear what the siblings next to you had to say about it. Jiwoo was stiff beside you and staring forward at the ground like she was in deep thought, a bad feeling washing over you at her expression.
She proved your suspicions right when she started to explain in a meek voice that she had already made plans for the first month of summer, having completely booked and paid for a vacation near the sea.
Her eyes shifted towards you as she told your parents this and you immediately furrowed your eyebrows in annoyance, knowing right away she was lying and making up an excuse so she didn’t have to come with you until the second half of summer and by then the house would be mostly finished already.
To make matters worse, you didn’t even process the fact Heeseung would definitely not decline considering how much he loved the lake house and that would leave the two of you alone up there.
He seemed to piece it together a few seconds before you did and you saw the realization settle over your parents faces too.
“Woah woah wait, there’s no way I’m going with just her.” He was quick to shut down the idea, sitting up straighter and shaking his head dramatically.
You didn’t say anything in response surprisingly despite the fact everybody in the room tensed up in anticipation for a fight to break out between the two of you. You were a bit dazed from the news of losing a big piece of your childhood and you were also just tired from the day over all, already knowing Heeseung was going to reject before he’d even opened his mouth to do so.
Mr. Lee was sighing and beginning to lecture his son on being an adult and putting your differences aside for something this important but Mrs. Lee was silent and giving you a curious look that you were too afraid to try and decipher.
Eventually it was decided that the two of you would either suck it up and go to the lake house together and work on it without killing each other or you’d face the wrath of four disappointed parents. You didn’t say much about the agreement either although Heeseung had plenty of comments to make and Jiwoo was finding the entire situation pretty hilarious from an outside view.
It had been about an hour since the family meeting and you were still in the Lee’s house, leaning your hip against the counter in the kitchen and mindlessly peeling some potatoes for the stew their mother was making for dinner.
The air was hot and dry like it always was during the beginning of summer, not bothering to creep up anymore and instead it just seemed like one day it was cold and the next you could barely sleep without waking up in a puddle of sweat.
You could hear the bugs outside from the open window, loud and alive with excitement for the new season and the breeze was just barely cooling off your damp skin. Normally this would bring you the same feeling summer always did, a lightness in your chest and a heavy sense of nostalgia everywhere you went.
It wasn’t hard to guess what was dampening your mood and leaving you feeling a bit shut off, the source of the weird emotions just a staircase away upstairs in his room playing video games.
Mrs. Lee was walking into the kitchen and pausing when she saw you although you only met her eyes for a split second before quickly focusing back in on your peeling and chopping. She cleared her throat softly and came over towards where you were leaning on the counter, placing down some lettuce and starting to chop besides you.
“Something put out your fire tonight?” She was asking it casually and her voice was as soft as ever but you immediately understood what she was implying.
You glanced at her from the side of your eye before shaking your head. Mrs. Lee had a certain aura about her that always made you feel like a little kid again, vulnerable and sensitive. As much as you loved your own mother, you always envied your neighbors for having her so close growing up.
“Sometimes it just isn’t worth the argument.” Your words weren’t the least bit convincing considering how forced they sounded coming from your mouth, paired with the fact you’d never once backed down from an argument and they all seemed to be worth it to you up until this point.
You could hear her take a deep self calming breath and your hands froze where they were chopping slowly, bracing yourself for whatever she was planning to say next.
“He means well honey he just… isn’t sure how to get through to you.” She somehow sounded as certain as she did hesitant and you could feel her gentle hand patting the side of your arm softly, leaving you with your poorly sliced vegetables and dimmed fire.
——
Throughout the entire process of packing your bags and mentally preparing yourself to head up to the lake house, you’d completely forgotten the fact you’d have to ride with him the entire five hour car ride there and then back again once it was all over.
He definitely didn’t seem to miss this fact considering he was standing outside leaning against the car with a nasty scowl when you came out, dragging your suitcase behind you and nearly tripping over the step off the porch from its wobbling weight. Your mother was trailing behind to say goodbye but not offering much help when it came to loading up your stuff.
Heeseung luckily didn’t say anything to you when you were approaching, greeting your mom with a gentle but annoyed good morning and staying on the side of the vehicle when you started to attempt to load your stuff inside the trunk.
After a few groans of annoyance slipped out of you, due to the fact your bags kept tipping over back out towards you and refusing to stay still in the neat tower of things Heeseung had packed for himself, he was sighing and making his way back towards you.
You glared at him when he circled around the car, not in the mood to be berated or rushed so early in the morning, especially right before you were stuck in a car together for the entire first half of the day. Your harsh facial expression faltered a bit when he was rolling his eyes and tugging your suitcase out of your grip.
“Just go and get in the car already, you take too long.” He was spitting it at you and harshly side eyeing you before starting to load your stuff up but you didn’t bother to argue considering the gesture was nice enough if you ignored the attitude he always carried.
“Well that was sweet of him.” Your mother was whispering the words to you in a dreamy voice, nudging you softly with her elbow and eyeing Heeseung through the windows.
You paused and glared at her in confusion, a dumbfounded expression and a sneaking suspicion starting to arise considering how weird both her and Mrs. Lee have been acting in regards to the two of you and your complicated, but mostly aggressive, relationship.
“Are you kidding me?” You settled on a bewildered statement instead of grilling her about her weirdness, knowing she wouldn’t give you an answer anyways.
She had given you a shrug that you assumed was noncommittal and then hugged you tight, tighter than she’d ever had and you tensed up a bit at the embrace.
You’d gotten into the passenger seat of the car and tried not to think about how weird the dramatic send off was, tried to focus yourself on keeping calm and not letting Heeseung get to you too early on in your time being forced together. You weren’t exactly sure why you were trying to be the bigger person lately but you chalked it up to being exhausted with the back and forth.
“You’d think she was sending you off to war.” He’d made the comment as he put the car into drive and you glanced over at him, staring at the side of his face, both confused and relieved by the fact he had noticed your moms weird attitude.
“She might as well be.” You didn’t mean to sound so snippy but it was your default setting when replying to him and he didn’t seem to mind the tone, chuckling dryly under his breath and shaking his head in annoyance before focusing in on the road.
He didn’t attempt to talk to you again for another hour or two and you were grateful for the silence, giving you another opportunity at being less confrontational. It definitely wasn’t for his benefit or to be kinder to him, you just didn’t want to constantly be exhausting your energy with the effort it took to keep up with whatever set him off.
Eventually he was pulling off of the main highway and turning into a gas station that was almost completely barren, stuck in one of those sections of a road trip that was basically just fields followed by more fields.
He was getting out of the car and shifting through his pockets for his wallet before sighing and glancing at you in the passenger seat, watching him from the corner of your eye so it didn’t seem like you were staring.
“Want anything to eat or drink?” He was asking in that familiar reluctant tone he always had with you and for a second you wanted to snap at him and decline his offer, tell him to just hurry up and get what he needed so you could get back on the road.
You took a small breath instead to steady your emotions before nodding. “Yeah I’ll just… I’ll take a-“
“I know what you want.” He was cutting you off and closing the car door before you could say anything else, leaving you with parted lips and annoyance starting to simmer in the lowest part of your stomach.
You scoffed even though he wasn’t around to hear it and leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms and scowling as you waited for him to return. You highly doubted he knew what you would get from a gas station, knowing he never paid attention to you or your interest outside of finding something to fight about and it just aggravated you further that he would go as far as to ask like he cared just to not let you answer.
He didn’t take long in the gas station luckily or else you’d overthink too much and be on the verge of exploding, sniffing slightly when he slid back into his seat and passed the bag with the snacks in it.
You paused for a second to glare at him before you were taking a look into the plastic and pausing when you spotted your favorite drink and a snack you commonly ate whenever you were stressed out or particularly craving something, mixed in with things you knew he enjoyed.
“What?” He was asking from the drivers seat and he sounded weirdly awkward underneath the familiar attitude. “Is it not right or something?”
“No it’s… it’s right.” You cleared your throat and nodded softly, sitting back in your seat and closing the snack bag after you grabbed what you wanted out of it and balanced it on your lap. “Thanks.”
“Yeah whatever.” It was muttered in his low tone but you caught it anyways, finding it almost as weird as the fact you had thanked him. He was finally starting the car and starting to pull out of the gas station much to your relief and you focused back on looking out the passenger window.
The heat was reaching the point where the low quality AC in the car wasn’t doing much to cool either of you down and once he rolled his window down instead, you took the silent cue to do the same to yours.
It was still pretty dry in the air and the sweat was really starting to make you itch and worsen your mood so you were hesitantly unbuckling your seatbelt so you could sit up more in your spot and pull your sweater over your head, leaving you in just a tank top and you sighed softly in relief as the air immediately cooled down the wetness of your sweaty arms.
You could feel Heeseung’s stare from your left and you glanced at him with furrowed eyebrows, rolling your eyes when he quickly scowled in return before snapping his gaze back onto the road.
It was pretty quiet for the rest of the drive, Heeseung playing the same music you often heard coming from his bedroom or his headphones when you were forced to sit close to each other in a car so you were actually able to recognize them and sing along.
Neither of you said much even when getting out of the car and starting to bring your things in, exchanging quick glares when you reached for the same bag or got in each others way but for the most part you were too relieved to finally be back somewhere that always caused your stress to melt away.
This time wasn’t any different and you took a second before you went inside with your things to take a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill your lungs and listening to the sounds of the water against the shore just off in the distance.
You couldn’t see the lake from the driveway as clearly as you could from the other side of the house where the deck was located but it was just one of those places where you could actually feel the difference in the air and the atmosphere.
“Can you hurry up? There’s plenty of time to stop and do nothing later.” Heeseung was griping at you as he passed by with another load of bags and you scowled at his back, completely removed from the peaceful moment you’d been having.
You decided to just leave it be and finish unpacking, flopping onto your back on your designated bed and panting slightly from the effort mixed with the heat once you were completely finished. Your phone had been abandoned against the span of your stomach but when it started to vibrate, you immediately knew who it was.
“So how’s it going? Have you killed my brother yet?” Jiwoo’s amused voice did nothing but amuse you further although you were struck by how much you missed her teasing.
You could hear the sounds of waves in the distance through her side of the phone, envy settling deep into your gut despite the fact you were also near water. The small lake was a lot different compared to the endless sea she was currently vacationing at, having a nice time with people who cared about her versus you being stuck with her older brother who couldn’t bother even being kind to you.
“We surprisingly haven’t really fought yet.” It came out of your mouth in a hefty sigh and you absentmindedly played with the string of your pajama shorts, pressing the phone tighter against your ear. “Think he’s downstairs getting ready for dinner.”
“Are you going to eat with him then or just hide out in our childhood bedroom?” She was asking it like it was a question but you both knew the answer already, the same accusatory tone that she always had heavy in her voice underneath the knowing smile you could practically see in front of you. “He’d probably secretly like it if you ate with him you know, I always did figure he had a crush on you.”
An automatic eye roll came over you at the sound of her baseless teasing. She often made jokes about Heeseung secretly liking you growing up, coming to the conclusion that was the reason he was always so harsh towards you.
You’d told her countless times that that was absolutely ridiculous and there was no way Heeseung liked you, let alone that he was the type of person who thought being mean to somebody was going to get them to like him back. You had seen the types of girls Heeseung brought home occasionally and he definitely knew better than to resort to elementary school level flirting methods.
She was eventually hanging up once one of her friends started to call her name, inviting her to come and swim with them.
You laid in bed for a while after the call went silent, feeling struck again with that weird lonely and nostalgic emotion that you couldn’t quite understand. It wasn’t normally this silent in the lake house, typically filled with doors opening and closing and the sounds of your mothers rushing around the kitchen as they cooked and your fathers cleaned.
As much as you didn’t want to, you couldn’t help but wonder if Heeseung was feeling just as weird about the whole situation as you, if he was downstairs just as lonely and unnerved by the fact it was only the two of you this summer and then nobody ever again. Your mind stuck on that thought process when you started to smell food drifting its way up the stairs and going straight to your empty stomach.
You’d planned to avoid the older boy as much as you could, especially during the first few days, but you were beyond hungry by now and you couldn’t help yourself from standing out of the bed and making your way downstairs.
He didn’t notice you for a few seconds when you first hit the bottom step, watching him for a beat as he casually moved around the kitchen and diverted his attention to three different pots and pans. He was listening to music again, something low playing from the old radio that sat in the lake house year round, and you realized how often you associated him with something soft playing.
You were completely ripped from your thought process when he was turning around and letting out a loud shriek when he saw you standing at the bottom of the stairs, dropping the bowl that was in his hands and doing a little scared hop.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He was spitting out and your mouth parted in surprise, not expecting such an extreme reaction or how loud it suddenly got. “Why are you just standing there like a weirdo?”
“What? I was not, I was just..” You started to defend yourself loudly but gave up midway and let out an annoyed grunt, knowing he wasn’t exactly wrong about what you were doing and you didn’t necessarily have an explanation. “I was just coming to see what you were cooking dickhead.”
He stared at you for a few seconds with a look on his face that you didn’t really understand before he was stepping to the side and revealing the plate with a handful of burgers on it.
You looked at it before you were meeting his stare and a weird feeling passed through you while holding his gaze, not something you often did- especially not willingly. He had cooked enough for the both of you despite his attitude when you’d came down and you weren’t sure if it was intentional or just habit but the act struck you.
The two of you ended up sitting at the table and eating in awkward silence, directly across from him but feeling like he was miles away considering he hadn’t even acknowledged you being in the room once.
You couldn’t help but be hyper aware of the fact you were very rarely alone with Heeseung and this was about as alone as any two people could possibly be. He was a lot less defensive when it was just the two of you and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he almost seemed shy, making you think about the jokes Jiwoo often made.
It’s not like Heeseung was at all ugly, you’d never stoop low enough to make fun of him for something that was so clearly not true.
Especially within the last year or two, he’d completely changed both in build and confidence and you were extremely glad you didn’t have to be around him as much as you did growing up. You disliked him as a human being but you were still a person in reality and he was almost unnaturally attractive.
“Why are you staring at me again?” His voice was low across the table, speaking in an awkward mumble as he started to push what was left of his food around with his fork.
You didn’t bother denying the fact you were watching him even though you hadn’t really realized you were doing it, completely zoned out again. You figured your time in the house together was already going to be awkward no matter what so you might as well ask him what you were thinking about. “Jiwoo says you have a crush on me.”
He completely tensed up for just a split second before he was quickly switching his demeanor and letting out a heavy scoff like he found you ridiculous. You caught the small reaction and your interest peaked, sensing an opportunity to get under his skin.
“Jiwoo also watches too many romance movies.” He was quickly disregarding what you had said with a casual and bored tone but you could tell that he was clenching his fork a little tighter, avoiding looking up from his plate all together.
“So you’ve never once found me attractive?” It rolled off your tongue easily, like you were asking him something as simple as to pass the mashed potatoes, but you gave him a knowing glance from under your eyelashes.
He finally looked up at you once you said this and he seemed taken back by the way you were watching him, the expression on his face telling you he thought you were absolutely crazy for even asking this.
“What? Are you kidding me, of course I haven’t.” He was quick to deny it and you could tell he was getting irritated, hand tightening around his silverware and that familiar clench of his jaw showcasing how much your questions were bothering him. You couldn’t tell if it was because he felt embarrassed or disgusted.
You let out a soft hum of understanding and let the silence sit for a few breaths, watching as he slightly relaxed under the assumption you were done saying weird things.
“I think you’re attractive.” He had been mid bite when you finally spoke again and his body lurched forward almost like he was choking, covering his mouth when he coughed and quickly taking a sip of water to try and force down whatever he had put into his mouth before you nearly killed him.
After he calmed down he was shaking his head at you again although not looking at you, staring down at his plate like he was thinking deeply about something and for a minute you wondered if he was going to take the bait like always or if he was going to just brush you off, making your stay much more awkward.
“My sister put you up to this?” His voice was stone cold now and he clearly was slowly losing his resolve, similarly to you considering what he said had completely thrown you off.
What did Jiwoo have to do with any of this and why would he automatically think that?
“No.” You shrugged like it was a casual conversation but your heart was beating a bit faster now, sensing genuine anger from him and not just annoyance. “I just don’t see the point in lying just because we don’t like each other.”
“You think I’m attractive?” His eyebrow was quirking up now and he was narrowing his eyes, leaning forward in his seat.
He’d finally put down his fork and stopped pretending to be focusing on the food he had barely eaten, elbows on the table and his full attention on you as he waited for you to reaffirm what you had said so confidently a few seconds ago.
The confidence had definitely left your body as soon as you’d said it and actually got his attention, feeling similarly to how you did when he embarrassed you at his party despite the fact the two of you were alone.
Very alone.
Still, you held strong and pushed through the conversation and if your stomach turned at his head tilt when you gave him a small quick nod, you’d pretend it didn’t. There was no going back now and you weren’t sure what direction this scenario was heading towards.
On one hand, you knew Heeseung had to be lying. You definitely weren’t unattractive and he clearly had eyes, ones that settled on you more times than you’d wished you had noticed so he wasn’t oblivious to this fact either regardless if he wanted to pretend he was. He was a teenage boy at one point and you were prancing around his house in short skirts and bathing suits.
And on the other hand, you didn’t think it necessarily mattered.
If Heeseung found you attractive he didn’t have to say it and this would be the ultimate time to completely embarrass you, humiliate even. If he rejected you here, you’d never live it down and he’d forever hold this over you as the time he utterly destroyed your ego in one fell swoop. Plus a large part of you was hoping he wasn’t planning to do that anyways even though you weren’t exactly sure what you wanted out of this.
You had hated the boy across from you for as long as you’ve known the power of the emotion and you’d never let him and his tall build and cute hair distract you from this fact.
But you also weren’t stuck seeing him everyday now. He didn’t live at home and you rarely came around unless you were forced beyond what you could deny so the stakes were a lot less high if he reciprocated what you were saying right now.
“You’re going to have to say it.” His low commanding tone was enough to stop you from overthinking the fact this was a bad idea, an absolutely terrible idea.
It was also enough for you to shift in your chair uncomfortably so you could better squeeze your legs together, watching the way Heeseung’s eyes darkened at the movement even though there was no way he could see what you were doing underneath the table.
“I think you’re attractive Hee, don’t be weird about it.” You were pulling yourself together and standing from your seat then, completely popping the bubble of tension that had started to suffocate you.
He didn’t say anything, thankfully not correcting you on the fact you had definitely been the one who made things weird, but he watched you with a heavy expression as you hurriedly cleaned your plate and disappeared up the stairs with quick footsteps.
——
You were coming to terms with an unmeasurable amount of regret now that a few hours had passed.
The bed had become your official moping place and you stuffed your face so far into the pillow you could barely catch your breath, possibly a self punishment for your humiliating behavior. You’d given up on attempting to sleep and you couldn’t rely on Jiwoo to entertain you considering she was probably busy and you were fearful you’d slip up and confess your sins to her the second she answered.
How do you explain that you’d nearly, just barely, flirted with her brother?
If you could even call it that considering the fact he looked like he was just on the verge of throwing his plate at you the entire time. Still, it had been weird and far too bold on your part and you were strongly regretting your life decisions up until this point.
Eventually you decided that sleep was useless and not coming anytime soon and you might as well make use of the fact you were at the lake house, suddenly remembering the hot tub that was placed around the side of the large deck. It didn’t take long for you to change into your swimsuit and start to head outside but you froze up right outside the slider door.
Considering how cruel the universe had been up to this point, you should’ve expected the fact that Heeseung was already occupying the small pool of water.
You were just starting to take a step backwards with the plan to retreat back upstairs and change again into your pajamas when you decided against it, taking a deep heavy breath before pulling the door open and simultaneously alerting the boy of your presence.
He was nearly all the way in the bubbling water but you could tell he was shirtless, something you’d normally be unaffected by if it wasn’t for the conversation you had. The steam from the hot water mixing with the cold night air was covering his face for the most part but you could see him enough to tell his face had hardened at the sight of you.
His gaze was locked on you for the duration of your walk towards the tub, stopping right outside of it and taking another subtle breath to try to calm yourself down.
“Mind if I join you?” Your voice was rougher than you wanted to be, nearly giving up the fact you were affected by the awkward tensioned air and the way he was watching you still.
He made it worse by not responding out loud, giving you a subtle nod of his head that made your heart rate increase. Still you were following through with the initial goal and climbing over the side of the tub before settling down into the hot water, letting out a sigh of relief and sinking into it until only the tip of your shoulders were above the surface.
Heeseung was still watching you and you were avoiding looking at his side completely, although that didn’t help much considering you could feel his stare on you.
“I’m sorry for making shit weird.”
Well apparently your mouth was planning on getting things out of the way before your brain was.
You looked up just in time to see him cock a brow in your direction, an expression on his face you couldn’t read and you almost groaned in annoyance from how calm he was being about the entire thing. You kept waiting for him to lash out at you and yell about your weirdness, maybe even call your parents and demand Jiwoo came instead of you.
“I don’t think it’s weird.” Instead he was saying this and shifting so his arms were resting on the back of the tub, lifting his torso out of the water more and giving you a better view of the wet streaks going down his neck and past his adams apple. “Unless you didn’t mean it.”
“I meant it.” Your voice was coming out rushed and your eyes were widening a bit, mentally cursing yourself for being so eager to reassure him.
He hummed softly like he had earlier and your stomach flipped again with nerves.
It wasn’t missing you that this was completely out of character for you and totally ironic but you were only human and as much as you disliked him as a person, you couldn’t deny how good he looked with damp hair and his tan skin lit up by the LED’s of the hot tub. He was sexy and always had been despite how much you wished that wasn’t true, and now you were alone.
So you tried to ignore your long history with him as you shifted through the water so you were closer to his side, only a quarter of the way to him now instead of being directly across from you.
He watched you silently for a few beats before he was scoffing and shaking his head like he was judging you, causing your eyebrows to furrow tightly as you stopped moving closer to him.
“What?” You felt embarrassed suddenly at your assumption and prepared yourself for him to make fun of you again, scold you for ever thinking he’d want you closer to him just because he hadn’t made you feel weird about your admission.
“Nothing. I just should have known you liked me.” He was laughing to himself slightly like it was the funniest thing in the world, not at all discouraged by the glare you were sending him. “You totally followed me around all the time, plus you always had that look in your eyes.”
“I do not have a look.” You hissed at him with a sharp voice and this seemed to amuse him even further. “And I never said I liked you don’t be stupid, I just think you’re hot.”
His eyebrows raised up high and his eyes widened in amusement, catching your slip of the tongue as you aggressively spat the words at him. “Oh see you said attractive, didn’t know you found me hot too.”
He was clearly having fun with the whole embarrassing situation and you gave up quickly, leaning against the back of the tub behind you and frowning with your arms crossed under the water in front of you. You stared ahead of you at the bubbles and tried to tune out his low chuckles.
“Don’t get pissy about it.” His voice was filtering over the running jets again and you glanced at him from the side of your eye, surprised to see something that slightly resembled guilt on his face. “If it makes you feel any better… I think you’re hot too.”
This made the corner of your lips turn up into a small smile,something very rarely ever sent in his direction from you. You turned your body to face him again and leaned forward with interest.
“So you lied earlier.” Your voice was more excited than you wished it was but you didn’t fully care, sitting up on your knees a bit. His gaze was dropping down to your chest before meeting your eyes again, losing all traces of humor now that more of your skin was visible.
“Yeah. I lied.” He confirmed in a lower tone and your smile fell slightly, suddenly nervous again. You were used to how he was acting a few seconds ago, making fun of you and feeling angry and embarrassed around him but this was a side of him you had no history with outside of watching him flirt with girls at parties Jiwoo forced him to bring you both along to.
That didn’t stop your body from naturally moving closer to him, drifting along the bench until you were right beside him and you could feel his thigh pressed up against your knee.
Your mouth was parted softly to try to keep breathing around the hot steam and his eyes were seemingly transfixed on it, watching your lips as you wet them instinctively and remaining on them even when your tongue was slipping back into your mouth. You could feel his breath on your face and it struck you that you’d never been this close to him before.
His face was leveled with yours for once since you were still perched up on your knees and he was sitting normally, minimizing the usually very apparent height difference.
He hadn’t touched you or even moved at all but you could feel his skin next to yours and you were hyper aware of his every movement, the subtle rise and fall of his built chest and the way his throat moved with every deep inhale he took. He seemed to be showing some restraint and that made you shift impatiently, teetering towards him until your shoulder was brushing against his.
His eyes shut tightly for a second when he felt your bare skin touching his, mumbling something under his breath before he was looking at you again.
This time his gaze was going all around your face instead of just focusing on your lips, even dropping back down to your bare shoulders and the way your wet hair was sticking to the skin of your neck. He scanned down past your chest to where the rest of your span of skin disappeared under the water.
“Hee.” Your voice was breathy as you finally spoke and instead of cutting the tense moment, it only worsened it and you felt your thighs pressing together again like they had at the dinner table. This time he could clearly see the movement past the bubbles and he stiffened a bit. “Can you touch me Hee?”
You watched him tense even more at the sound of your whiny voice using his nickname, one you didn’t say nearly as much as your friends and family.
He didn’t reject you even though you were starting to think he might considering how restricted he look, instead he was lifting his hand out from under the water and cupping it around your jaw softly. You could feel his thumb rubbing along your cheek, the water from his arm rolling down your neck and disappearing back into the pool of it.
It was almost embarrassing how much it affected you to be touched by him so intimately and the urge to kiss him was too overwhelming, a dizziness settling in from both the heat and the longing sitting harshly in your stomach.
You were so close to each other that you could feel his lips brushing against yours, not quite kissing considering he was rocking softly backwards every few breaths and holding your face tightly so you couldn’t surge forward and get it over with.
Heeseung definitely wasn’t letting go of his habit of teasing you but this felt particularly cruel and prolonged.
“That what you want? Want me to touch you?” His tone was meaner than you expected it to be but you didn’t exactly mind, at all apparently considering the shiver it sent down your back. He was clearly making fun of you and your desperation but if he touched you, you knew you wouldn’t be able to find it in yourself to care.
So you took a deep shaky breath and nodded your head as much as you could while he still held your face, moving your hand so it was touching his bare knee.
Your action took him off guard enough that he lessened his grip for a split second but it was long enough for you to lean forward and press your lips against his for just a second, barely feeling them on yours before he was pushing you back again and your hand was impatiently squeezing his knee.
Another embarrassing whine came from deep in your throat and his eyes flashed with something for a second before he let out another soft hum.
“Can’t do that baby.” He was so close that his lips pressed against yours as he spoke and you completely froze up once his words made sense to your lust dazed brain, just barely processing his rejection before he was letting go of your face and leaning away from you.
You did nothing but watch him in horrified shock as he stood out of the water and left the hot tub, weirdly calm even when your gaze was locking on his bare torso.
He was leaving casually like he hadn’t just did the worst thing you could possibly imagine and you felt hot wet tears of anger spreading rising quickly, completely humiliated and swiftly reminded on why you hated Lee Heeseung so much.
——
As the days continued passing with awkward avoidance on both of your ends, you were struck with the fact that maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you always thought you did.
You’d actually admired Heeseung at points considering he was the oldest out of the three of you and continuously setting a good example despite all the pressure. Some nights you’d leave a heated argument with him and head back inside your own home, laying on your bed with a racing heart and a scowl fixed in your features.
Then you’d hear the strumming of his guitar coming from his house, window wide open and directly across from yours.
The first few times you’d put in your headphones or let out an annoyed shriek as you slammed yours shut, trying your best to tune him out and erase his existence from your mind ; out of sight out of mind.
Eventually you got tired of pretending you weren’t impressed by how smoothly the chords carried over to you, how swiftly he must be moving his hands to produce something so soft and gentle. You’d let it carry you to sleep and for a moment you felt like you were experiencing something together.
You were more naive then, tricked into thinking he ever cared about you enough to even know you were listening, childish and stupid to possibly hope he might’ve been playing for you.
Some sort of apology.
He never was and he made that very clear to you and eventually your embarrassment and shame turned to hide behind anger. It was easier to fight with him, to scream and yell, than to admit that he was hurting your feelings and lowering your ego everytime he treated you so harshly.
The entire situation was extremely frustrating and annoying, almost (but not quite) as annoying as the continuous banging happening directly under your head for the past hours.
With a loud groan, you were getting out of bed and deciding to end your moping abruptly, heading downstairs to see what the workers Heeseung had hired were doing that made that much noise. You slowed your steps as you descended down the stairs, realizing there was a lot more men in your second home than you’d originally expected and they were all moving around at a fast and busy pace.
You’d just barely managed to dodge one of them, carrying a large amount of… something, as you reached the bottom step but in your attempt to move out of the way you were running into an abandoned tool box and spiraling in the other direction.
Your eyes had squeezed shut and your body tensed bracing for an impact that never came, instead feeling yourself smack into someone’s strong and sturdy frame.
“You alright?” You quickly shot open your eyelids to see who it was you’d fallen into, turning red in the face at the concerned look the man holding you was sending down in your direction, still holding you softly and giving your arms a slight squeeze like he was trying to get you to focus.
He watched as you nodded your head softly with wide eyes, helping you steady yourself back on your feet but still holding onto your upper arms like he was worried you’d fall again.
You took the opportunity to scan over his body and your face flushed a bit more at the sheer size of the man and his extremely toned arms, looking away quickly to focus on his feet between yours instead. Heeseung was definitely a large guy too and nearly towered over you but you imagined he’d look tiny in comparison to the one in front of you.
“You sure you’re okay? You look a little red.” He was speaking again in a soft voice that directly opposed his look and you snapped out of your random thoughts about Heeseung.
“I’m okay I promise.” You were nodding quickly and giving him a soft smile, hoping you were convincing enough to make him believe you definitely didn’t need any type of medical attention just because you’d tripped over a box. “Just startled me a little. Thanks for catching me….”
You trailed off while watching him and it took him a few seconds to understand what you were looking for, a bright smile on his face once he realized and filled in the gaps. “Namjoon.”
“Well thank you Namjoon.” His name was rolling off your tongue smoothly and his smile suddenly looked a lot more like a smirk making you a lot more aware of the fact he was still holding onto your arms and standing close to you.
He didn’t get a chance to reply considering the loud sound of someone aggressively clearing their throat was coming from next to the two of you, both your heads turning to see who it was and it was almost comical the way you froze up in sync with each other.
“Shouldn’t you be getting back to work now Kim?” Heeseung’s tone was stiff but you could feel the underlying threat in his words and the man across from you definitely could considering he was immediately letting go of you and taking a few rushed steps backwards, mumbling a goodbye to you before he was disappearing into the kitchen to find a task to complete.
Your shoulders slumped at the interruption but your heart was beating fast looking at Heeseung next to you, recognizing the expression on his face even though it was subtle.
He was absolutely furious, the type of anger that typically caused you to end arguments early or completely stay out of his way. When he got like this you knew it wasn’t the time to poke fun at him or start up any banter, his entire aura becoming a lot darker and less forgiving.
You’d fought with him like this a few times, realizing a little too late that he was in one of his moods and it was those times that he had said the worst things. Things that made the family and friends around you gasp even though they were used to your rivalry, things that caused tears to spring to your eyes as you stormed off to a different room.
“Let’s go.” He was saying it calmly but you felt a chill run over you as he stared at you with fury and disgust, reluctantly following behind him as he left the main living space and entered a small hallway just next to it.
You hadn’t even gotten the chance to explain before he was abruptly turning around and facing you, taking a few harsh steps in your direction until you were backing up and slamming into the wall behind you. Your eyes widened in surprise and slight fear, not understanding why he was suddenly cornering you.
Heeseung moved forward until he was pressing against your body and now your emotions were abruptly changing as you realized what was happening, a wave of heat rushing through you at the feeling of his front leaning onto you.
You were slightly embarrassed he most likely could feel how fast your heart was beating but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care once he was reaching up to grip your face, a lot less gentle than he had earlier in the week when you thought he was going to kiss you.
“So I don’t give you the attention you were begging for and now you’re flirting with the first guy you find?” His voice was low and harsh, completely demeaning you and still watching you with hatred in his eyes.
You hated how much this drove you crazy, the urge for him to berate you and make you apologize for what you had accidentally done arising quicker than you’d even knew had existed and you were a bit dizzy from how much you wanted this.
“Please.” It was rolling off your tongue before you’d realized you were saying it and you barely recognized your own voice, breathy and begging for something you didn’t even understand. His eyes got even darker, if it was even possible, and your stomach lit up with a desperate heat.
“Pisses me off so bad when you do that.” He was practically hissing it at you, voice a low whisper and his hand around your jaw tightened, leaning in so he was speaking to your ear. “Stop being so fucking dumb and use your words.”
You tried to get ahold of yourself enough to find the right sentence to tell him what you want but your mind was completely blank, instead deciding to just arch your back off the wall so you were pressing tighter against him.
Heeseung faltered a bit and his eyes dropped down towards where your stomachs met, watching as you tried your best to roll your hips up to meet his but failed to actually get any sort of relief for yourself.
“Just fucking touch me.” You were finally gasping the words out through clenched teeth and he didn’t waste any time thankfully, surging forward and surprising you by kissing you deeply.
His tongue was pushing into your mouth before you even processed the fact he was actually kissing you and you were letting out a satisfied groan against his lips, letting him lick into your mouth softly and play with his tongue against yours. His hand was wrapping around your lower back and tugging you forward so you were pressing against him the way you wanted to.
A wave of desire ripped through you feeling that he was hard against you and you snuck your hand in between the tight space of your bodies and palmed him through his shorts, smiling at the way he sucked in a sharp breath and stopped kissing you for a second.
Your smile was dropping when he was meeting your eyes and looking ten times more deadly than he did in a daily basis, still glaring at you like he always did but with tenfold the usual fire and tension. That didn’t stop him from pushing his hips against your seeking hand for a few seconds, eventually stopping and letting out a groan as he snatched your wrist off of him and pinned it against the wall behind you instead.
He was rutting into you so hard that you were almost worried the rough materiel of the wall behind you was going cut your back, completely forgetting about it half a second later when he was pressing himself perfectly against your sensitive lower half.
“Keep your fucking mouth shut.” His voice was dangerously low in your ear and you could feel him taking heavy breaths against your neck, panting to try and keep himself quiet.
You were nodding quickly at his command despite the fact he couldn’t see you, curling your hand tightly in his hair and spreading your legs wider so he could continue to slot himself between them and give you just a taste of relief. He immediately took the silent invitation and shifted his hips against yours more, almost bordering painful if it wasn’t so addicting to feel him this way.
Heeseung was clearly struggling to control himself and you couldn’t recall ever feeling this needy for anybody before, something about how forbidden the entire situation was mixed with the life of tension and anger was driving you absolutely insane and you didn’t seem to be alone in it.
“You want me to fuck you here?” He was picking his face up out of your neck to look down at you and check your reaction, his eyes hazy and dark with his lips parted and swollen like he’d been chewing on them. “Where anyone can hear you begging for me?”
“Who said I’m going to beg?” You were trying to snap back at him but your voice came out weak, nearly a desperate whine that got louder when he was shifting against you again.
“Sure seems like it, the way you’re spreading your legs for me already.” His big hand was sliding down past your waist and cupping underneath your bare knee, hiking your leg up harder and rolling his hips against you so deliciously you nearly collapsed as a stuttered moan ripped through you.
You immediately took your hand out of his hair and covered your mouth with it, eyes rolling back a bit at the feeling of him shifting his hips against you and practically dry humping you right there against the wall.
Knowing that the house workers were only a few feet away and walking around completely clueless about what they might walk into was only making you more desperate for him and you didn’t care how out of character it was for you. At this point you would be willingly to let him take you in front of anybody who wanted to watch, leave you shaking and crying for him in public.
He didn’t need to hear you say it to know this, a cocky look on his face underneath the fucked out expression he already had.
“Always running this pretty mouth.” He was speaking again in that same low tone but he seemed completely out of it, almost like he was talking to himself and not you. His free hand was gripping your face, squishing your cheeks together so your lips were puffed out and your eyes were wide. “Should’ve known you wanted me to stuff it.”
An embarrassing wave of want washed over you again at his words, nearly drooling at the thought of him shoving his cock in your mouth to get you to stop back talking. It would’ve felt more humiliating if it wasn’t for the way his eyes were completely frozen on your mouth like he was thinking the exact same thing.
You couldn’t resist the urge to tease him more and your tongue was sticking out softly before you’d even realized you were doing it, causing him to loosen his rough grip on your face a bit to allow for it to push past your lips. You were staring up at him with big wet eyes and your tongue on display, silent waiting and begging for something you hoped he’d understand.
Thankfully he did and he was only hesitating for half a second before he was picking his head up more and spitting down into your mouth.
Heeseung didn’t even give you a chance to swallow before he was following the spit with his tongue, licking along yours and cleaning up his own mess before you were pulling him back into a kiss and sucking him deeper and deeper into your mouth. It was completely filthy, the nastiest kiss you’d ever shared with somebody and you were terrified you’d become addicted to the feeling of his spit on your chin.
“Please Hee.” You were gasping out into his mouth, reaching up to tug on his hair again and get his attention locked on you and your request. “Need you to fuck me.”
For the first time since you’d started, he actually looked hesitant. He glanced down the hallway towards where the dozen of workers were and your heart dropped to your stomach thinking he was going to stop what you were doing, even if it was just to take you upstairs to a bedroom. You couldn’t handle the idea of separating for even a second and you were spreading your legs impossibly wider and touching his face with your shaky hand.
He glanced back at you in question and his eyes darkened again seeing the pure disgusting need on your face.
“You’re stupid if you think I’d fuck you like this.” He was shaking his head in anger and taking a step away from you, one that immediately had your body tensing and your heart aching in upset.
You were instinctively reaching out to try and grab onto him, just about ready to get down on your knees and beg him not to leave you at the peak of your high like that. But the empty look in his eyes made you rethink that decision and you just stood there in shock as he gave you one more angry glare before he was exiting the hallway and leaving you alone inside of it.
It was even more pathetic considering the way your entire body slumped against the wall before sliding down it and ending up on the floor with humiliation completely smothering you, knowing you only had a few breaths to wallow in your embarrassment before needing to get up and go back to your room.
You’d completely retracted back to your bed again after that and this time not even the smell of food or the sound of annoying construction could get you to go back downstairs and risk running into him.
Jiwoo had called you three times every hour before she finally gave up and instead sent a thread of text messages that you promptly ignored. You were overly paranoid that she’d find out what had happened, like even the sound of your voice would give away the fact you’d made out with her brother since she last heard from you.
If you hadn’t hated him fully before than you definitely did now because there was no way you’d still want Lee Heeseung after he embarrassed you like this.
You didn’t think he would tell anybody considering he’d get just as much heat for it as you would, if not worse since he was older and supposed to be taking care of you and his sister at all times in your parents minds. But the interaction staying a secret was almost worse in your mind, a private thing between you and him.
Nothing could have convinced you to leave the comfort of your familiar bed until the wind of the sea lightly blew back the curtains and gave you a small glimpse of the sunset raging outside.
You let out a big breathy sigh, realizing now how much time you’d been wasting moping around about a stupid boy when this was your last summer ever getting to experience sunsets this bright and air this fresh. Heeseung definitely wasn’t sat in his room caring about you and how he hurt you so why should you be?
It was almost completely dark by the time you made it down to the beach but you didn’t regret coming, the lake looking long and endless now that you couldn’t see the other side.
You remember it seeming a lot scarier when you were a kid, before you’d ever seen the real sea and back when you and Jiwoo used to dare each other to swim out as far as you could before seaweed grabbed at your ankles and spooked you back to shore.
Your heart ached with how much you missed her and you were pulling your phone out of your pocket and putting it to your ear without another breath, playing in the sand with your free hand while you anxiously waited for her to pick up and talk to you. You didn’t have to wait long considering she was answering after the second ring and you let out a breath of relief.
“Finally, I was starting to think you’d really killed eachother.” Her voice was sweet as ever and a wave of fondness and nostalgia hit you even harder, laughing softly but not fully answering her yet.
For some reason the sound of her light joking mixed with the waves from her side of the phone was bringing tears to your eyes and you didn’t need to say anything for her to understand you were feeling something heavy. You both stayed silent and you hoped she figured you were just upset about leaving the lake house behind and didn’t create her usual conspiracy theories.
“You okay over there? I can come early if you need me to.” Your friend was doing her best to reassure you without knowing why you were upset and you wiped your now running tears with your sleeve.
“I’m alright, just feeling a lot of things right now I think. Are you having fun?” You weren’t exactly lying in your answer which was good considering you didn’t want to lie to her anymore than you already had to.
“I’d be having more if you were with me but you already know that. Can’t believe my brother gets to spend more time with you than I do.”
Your heart sunk a little at the mention of the exact reason you were crying and you were sure how to respond to her without giving too much away. She could read you even over the phone so you knew she might’ve felt the energy shift now that she’d brought her brother up, sniffling a bit and letting the sand run through your fingers.
She talked a bit more about her vacation and how much fun being at the sea was after so long and you listened to her excitedly chatter, letting out soft hums every once in awhile to assure her you were still listening.
You actually were but a large part of you was still thinking about Heeseung and what he might be doing back up the hill inside the lake house. You wondered if he felt guilty for you hiding in your room or if he had even realized you weren’t inside anymore.
Jiwoo was eventually bidding you a goodnight and making you promise to answer her the next time she called on the first ring, sounding a bit heavier when she was saying goodbye and hanging up the phone. You hated that you didn’t feel the typical happy buzz that your bestfriend typically brought and more tears made their way down your cheeks.
You sat like that on the shore for another hour, watching the waves roll and crash onto the sand just a few feet away from where you were sitting.
It was putting you in a sort of trance, so many thoughts running through your head that you weren’t even able to pinpoint where one started and another ended.
You were so deep in your own head that you didn’t at all hear the calls of your name from up the hill, starting off mildly confused and concerned but escalating to full on desperate and panicky shout when they were met with no response. You certainly didn’t hear the footsteps coming down the large wooden steps from the back deck or when he breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing you on the beach.
“There you are.” Your back tensed at the sound of his voice and the soft tone in which he mumbled the words. “I thought for a second you’d gone back home.”
He was coming to sit beside you on the sand, just close enough where you could feel his body beside yours and the wind carried over his familiar scent but still too far to touch.
Which was for the better in your opinion.
You ignored him even though you could sense his stare on the side of your face and embarrassment was hitting you in rough rolling waves, hoping that the moonlight wasn’t quite bright enough to give away the large tear streaks down your cheeks or how red your nose had gotten from crying.
“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier.” His voice was still soft which was doing absolutely terrible things to your heart and you shook your head slightly, pulling your lip between your teeth to stop yourself from letting out another sob. “I’m sorry about everything in general.”
He was turning to face you more and you braved up enough to spare him even the slightest glance, seeing pure guilt and turmoil on his face.
Meeting your gaze was enough for him to realize how upset you truly were and he was sighing before scooting closer to you in the sand and putting one of his warm hands on your bare arm, now cold from sitting out in the wind for so long. You instinctively leaned into his touch and his other hand gently gripped the side of your face so you couldn’t look away again.
It was such a jarring difference from how he’d touched you earlier, from how he touched you your entire life actually.
“I didn’t mean to be so mean so you or leave you there like that I just… I just panicked I think.” He was rambling now and stuttering through his words, something you knew he often did whenever he got in trouble when you were younger. “You think about something happening for so long and then it actually does and it’s so much more different than you thought, n-not that it wasn’t good I just mean that…”
He trailed off and sighed again and you squeezed your eyes shut to try and ignore the desperate urge to just kiss him and shut him up.
You knew you needed to hear whatever he had to say and he definitely needed to say it, he long overdue owed you a few hundred apologies and it was a lot more than the fact he’d left you high and dry earlier.
It was all the times he glare at you and stolen a smile off your face and every argument you ever had that left you stricken with angry tears and storming out of a room, the embarrassment of being told off at his graduation party and even worse the fact he didn’t kiss you until he was driven by jealously.
“I’m just so sorry.” He seemed like he was ending his monologue there and you gave him a heavy look, slightly nuzzling into his hand before placing your own over it. “Say something please?”
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.” Your words were more honest than you expected them to be but his eyes softened when your voice came out weak and croaky, the full expanse of your hurt getting more obvious by the second. “I’m just confused.”
You were turning slightly so you were facing him more and you were certain the two of you looked a bit ridiculous, sitting criss crossed directly opposite of each other with your knees touching and his hand holding your face still, only moving to push some of your hair out of your face.
“I am too.” He was whispering now and you felt the full effect of it low in your stomach, a soft smile on his face now that you were opening up to him a bit more.
Heeseung had never left your life and it was a lot easier to list out all the terrible moments you’d had with him over the softer times, glimpses of days where he’d had a smile just like this wether it was in your direction or not.
He’d been there every time you called for a ride even if he complained about it most of the way home and you’d never stopped listening in extra hard whenever you heard his sweet dorky laugh coming from a few rooms over. You must have been blind to what your mothers had clearly started seeing a long time ago but little things this summer had made you reconsider how deep your dislike for each other goes.
You’d long hesitated to fight with him, starting to rethink your quick jabs and your constant attitude whenever he walked into a room and clearly he’d picked up on more than you ever realized, obvious by him so easily knowing your comfort snacks or the way to calm you down.
“You know,” Your eyes snapped back up to his when he started to speak in a low voice as you waited to hear what he had to say. He looked a bit nervous, like he was about to confess something and you gave him your full attention. “When we used to fight as teenagers, I’d always feel so terrible for making you storm home. Even started playing guitar with my window open so you could hear it.”
Your entire world view shattered just off of that simple admission alone and a heavy sob interrupted whatever else he was going to say, his eyes widening in surprise for just a moment before you were leaning over onto him fully and throwing yourself into a tight hug.
He eagerly accepted although not understanding the true weight he’d just released from your shoulders and you felt him let out a big breath of relief now that you were in his arms, his hands rubbing up and down your back as you cried softly.
You didn’t need to hear him say that he felt the same way that you did, as confusing and scary as it was after projecting your anger onto each other for so long. Your heart tore up thinking about that young girl in her bedroom just holding onto the silly childish hope that the boy next door was actually playing for her, now knowing it wasn’t foolish at all and he’d been right there hoping she was listening.
It hurt you to think about how much time you’d wasted carrying on a childish feud and how whatever this was had started off being such a disaster of jealously and toxic back and forth.
But you were immediately soothed by the never wavering feeling of his arms wrapped tightly around you and the gentle sound of the waves crashing on the shore, spending one last summer on the beach that raised you and creating your first one with the boy you loved.
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depravitycentral · 7 months
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Yandere! Uvogin NSFW Profile
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Yandere! Uvogin x fem! reader
Tw: mentions of non-con, masturbation, non-consensual aiding of masturbation (? not sure what to tag this but you'll see what I mean), excessive cum-play, snowballing, facials, stalking, kidnapping, mentions of degradation, exhibitionism, implied that Nobunaga jerked it to you I'm so sorry for your loss, kind of allusions to breeding but nothing explicit, fem reader, MDNI
I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!
WC: 10K
HABITS:
In general, Uvogin is no stranger to sex. He’s had his fair share of hookups over the years, and while he’s never really had a long term partner (being a criminal and always on the run makes it a bit difficult), he’s got a good, solid amount of experience under his belt.
And so, while he may be intimidating and a bit scary, there’s always plenty of drunk women at the local bars or clubs who are more than willing to take their chance at managing to take him.
And for the most part, Uvogin is completely satisfied with this – hookups and flings are fun, and he’s able to get his rocks off whenever he pleases.
However, once you step into his life, his frequent sex with strangers take an abrupt and very strict hiatus. Not only does it feel wrong to sleep with any woman besides you, he simply doesn’t find the allure anymore – if he were to sleep with anyone aside from you, he’d spend the entire time focused on all the things that are different from you rather than actually enjoying the experience.
Maybe their hair is different – yours is prettier, he thinks.
Maybe your voice is different – it’s not as annoying and shrill and whiny as the other woman’s, and Uvogin can very confidently say that he likes yours much, much more.
Maybe their body is different – your curves are different, better for him, and you’re softer and warmer and just better.
Hookups are out of the question once he really decides that he wants you – but unfortunately, the same can’t be said of his hormones. He still craves sexual contact and release, perhaps even more so now that he has you to actively imagine and think of and desire, but his tried and true method of finding someone random to relieve some pent up stress isn’t an option anymore.
And so, once his obsession develops, he finds himself masturbating much, much more often.
It’s not as nice as having a living, breathing person there to help him out, but it’s his only option – you’re not an option yet, as much as he desperately wishes you were, because while he’d give anything to sink into what he’s sure is your tight, warm, soaking wet cunt, he doesn’t want to reserve the progress he’s made in worming his way into your life all for one night of pleasure.
And so, he falls back on pleasuring himself with a bit of an aid – it’s not enough to simply fist himself and imagine your body or your sounds.
No, it’s not nearly enough – so instead, Uvogin finds a way to seamlessly involve you in his self-pleasure, all with the wonderful caveat of you having absolutely no idea of your role.
Uvogin’s already reaching for the hem of his shorts as he plops down onto the ratty couch in the living room of his current hideout. He’s quick to shimmey them down, all the way down to his ankles, only to unceremoniously kick them off to some corner of the room.
His cock is already semi-hard, the knowledge of what’s coming next unconsciously exciting him. He sighs and lets his head roll back slightly, resting on the frame of the couch, his hand sneaking down the plane of his abdomen and settling lightly over his cock.
Idly groping at his balls (just soft, teasing squeezes – nothing too serious yet, not when the action hasn’t begun), his free hand reaches to the next cushion and picks up the cheap burner phone Shalnark had provided him with last week. There’s only three numbers saved in it – Chrollo’s, Shalnark’s, and yours.
With a sharp swallow, Uvogin presses on your contact listing, listening as the familiar dial tone rings through the speakers. Your voice is surprised as you pick up, a delighted little oh, I wasn’t expecting a call from you!
It makes him bite his lip, squeezing at his balls just a bit harder.
 Yeah, sorry, but I was bored and wanted to hear your voice. He smirks at the soft little sound of surprise you make at that.
Oh! Oh, sure, yeah! Okay, well, uh, how has your day been?
And although you’ve said absolutely nothing even remotely suggestive, Uvogin’s cock twitches against his forearm, making his thighs tense slightly.
Good, drank some beer and watched the hockey game, the usual. I want to hear about you, though. Tell me everything about this week, yeah?
And with that, he settles back further against the couch, truly getting comfortable as you start telling him about how this week you’ve done this and that, then this, then that…
He’s not really listening, and some part of him – the part not currently imagining the way you’d look with his cock down your throat – feels guilty about not giving you one hundred percent of his attention, but as you suddenly gasp and say oh then this happened he finds himself not caring.
Soon he’s transitioning from groping his balls to wrapping his fingers around his length, careful not to hiss into the phone receiver as he slowly, almost painfully slowly brings his fist up to his tip, squeezing a bit, then bringing it back down.
Your voice is a constant through the phone, the familiar lilt and pace of your words only slightly distorted through the device, and as he slowly works himself, he closes his eyes to listen more carefully. He likes the way you pronounce things – occasionally you say his name, and his hips jerk up a bit to fuck up into his fist each time you do, making him hold in a grunt each time.
Slowly he picks up the pace, moving his wrist a bit faster with every sentence you say, letting his eyes flutter closed again while his head lolls back slightly, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip.
He can practically imagine you here with him – the way you’d be straddling him on this couch, your soft thighs pressing against his hips, your pussy rubbing and grinding against him because you want to tease him, your hands splayed across his chest as you tell him that you want him, that you need him, that you need him to touch you and taste you and feel you and fuck you –
Uvogin? Uvogin? Are you okay? You sound like you’ve just run a marathon…
Your voice brings him back to reality, and immediately his eyes are snapping open and his hand freezes, his heavy breaths ringing through the receiver. After a beat, he swallows and reassures that he’s fine! Sorry sorry, that stupid neighbor of mine just stood outside my front door – you know how loud he breaths. Don’t worry about it, keep going. I like listening.
You seem a bit hesitant, but you keep going, and Uvogin makes sure to mute himself this time. Now he can listen to you talk and not worry about being too loud. Immediately he’s picking up where he left off, hips coming up to help fuck up into his fist, grunts and groans of your name slipping past his lips all the while you chatter on about last Wednesday.
Uvogin’s feet plant flat against the floor as he uses them for leverage to thrust up, pretending you’re perched in his lap with his cock buried between your legs, your pretty tits squished up against his chest while you gasp and moan and cry out his name, his thrusts only getting deeper and harder and stronger, the desire to truly fuck you and mold your cunt to the shape of his cock getting the better of him.
Soon he’s fully groaning out phrases into the phone, going on about how you’re so damn tight, fuck baby just like that, shit clench just like that, oh fuuuck! His hips are making an audible sound as they smack back into the couch cushions with every thrust, and with wild eyes he stares down at his lap, imagining the sight of his cock sinking into your cunt over and over, your slick spilling down your thighs and getting everything wet and sticky, the sound of his balls clapping against your ass over and over.
He's close, feeling the trace edges of his orgasm approaching, his toes beginning to curl and his abs starting to tighten and his balls starting to clench and oh –
I missed you that day, Uvogin, I wish you’d been there.
He comes with a near shout of your name, his hips pistoling into his fist as ropes of cum spurt onto his chest, his breathing heavy and uneven as he shakes, his hand trembling slightly as it grips onto the phone so tightly it nearly breaks.
You’re still speaking, but Uvogin’s not listening as he replays your words over and over in his head – you wanted him there, wanted to see him, wanted to be with him. He’s still saying your name over and over, his breathing slowly calming down as his cum slowly dribbles down his chest, and he lets a smile sit on his lips. Running a hand through his hair (still slightly stained with cum, but the euphoria swimming through his veins makes it hard to care), he swallows, saying your name one last time with a small chuckle.
Fuck, only you can make me like this, huh? You’re making me into a real loser, you know that? Fucking himself and pretending you’re here with me. God.
Soon, once he’s gotten enough of a grip on his breathing, he unmutes himself, just in time for you to finish up your report.
That’s about it, sorry for rambling! But anyways, what are you up to?
He smiles at that, giving his cock one final squeeze and licking a bit of cum off his finger.
Just wondering if you wanna get dinner tonight, how about that Italian place you were talking about the other day?
And when you agree, eventually hanging up, Uvogin can only sigh and slap his thigh.
Soon, very soon, he’s sure he won’t have to imagine anymore – soon it’ll be your hand instead of his.
Just the thought makes him groan, blood already rushing south again.
FAVORITE BODY PARTS:
Your Ass
Uvogin likes every part of you, but he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t have a special spot for your ass.
It doesn’t matter the shape or size – it’s yours, and by extension, Uvogin wants to touch It and squeeze it and grope it.
Constantly.
He’s generally a touchy person, both in and out of sexual contexts, and while his handsiness is often innocent regarding you, his hand finds its way to your backside much too often to be considered truly accidental.
He’s a bit fan of idly groping you, letting a hand wander down and give a playful squeeze, only to feel you jump a bit out of surprise.
(He’ll always send you this toothy grin afterwards, telling you that he can’t help it baby, it’s just right there and it’s so damn cute and fuck, if you could see it you’d understand.)
He likes to come up behind you and hug you, pressing himself directly against your backside – your heights likely mean that his cock doesn’t directly sit against your ass, but even feeling his legs against the soft area makes him lick his lips, already imagining the way the soft skin would feel under the rough pads of his fingers.
He likes to smack your ass when you walk by him – it’s always, always light, of course, just enough to startle you but not enough to actually hurt.
He likes the way you get irritated and swat at him, telling you with a cheeky wink and grin that you can always return the favor, babe.
And when you’re actually intimate with one another, this habit of his certainly doesn’t change – he’s always slapping your ass when he’s fucking you in doggy style, going on about how you look so pretty from this angle, all the while groping and squeezing at your poor cheeks until they’re nearly purple.
He’s always cupping your ass when you’re riding him, helping move you up and down with a palm on each cheek, squeezing and holding you so tightly you nearly have no control over your own movements.
He’ll fuck you in a prone bone position, all the while staring at how your ass jiggles with each smack of his hips against it, his fingers (that he’d intertwined with yours above your head) clutching onto yours even harder at the sight.
He’s just genuinely in love with the way your ass looks and feels, and although he wouldn’t bring it up unless you wanted to, Uvogin would love to have you sit on his face, letting your pretty ass be the only thing he sees as you grind and scoop and use him, letting his tongue brush across your clit over and over again all while he gets to admire.
(He wouldn’t even mind if you wanted to scoot forward a bit, letting your pussy rub against his chin while his tongue works diligently at the tight, taboo little hole you don’t normally let him touch. He’s sure it'll feel good, that you’ll enjoy it, that he’ll enjoy it, because it’s just another way to be close to you, another way to claim something of yours as his his his.)
Expect your ass to fondled and groped and smacked at least twice a day, if not more – he just can’t control himself, and surely you understand?
If you were as deeply obsessed and attracted to yourself as he is, you’d have to understand that he physically can’t help himself – not when you’re so goddamn tempting.
His mouth
Because Uvogin is such a pleaser in bed, he’s very quickly exploring the variety of ways he can utilize to get you off.
Of course, he likes the tried and true fucking, making you melt on his cock, but something about it feels a bit barbarian, a little bit too rough sometimes, even if he’s addicted to the feeling of your pussy.
Even his fingers are sometimes a little too much, just because you always tense up so much, your walls clamping down on him and making it difficult to move, the stretch from them alone feeling like the size of any of your previous partners.
 Of course, he still likes fucking you and fingering you, but there’s something about using his mouth on you that he simply can’t get enough of.
Maybe it’s because it’s so much more intimate, like something special the two of you are sharing. He’s tasting the most private part of you, a place only a handful of people have ever gotten to see (much less taste), and something about that knowledge makes him swell with pride, a smirk settling across his lips.
Regardless, Uvogin takes every opportunity to use his mouth on you that he possibly can – the two of you are sitting on the couch while you read one of the few books he picked up for you and he watches TV, and suddenly he’s between your legs and pulling down your lounging shorts, looking up at you and licking his lips with a positively feral expression, murmuring that he’s feeling a little hungry, yeah?
Every sexual encounter between the two of almost always including Uvogin’s lips against your cunt in some capacity – he’s a very firm believer in the necessity of foreplay (particularly due to his size), and he spares no expense in making sure that you’re properly wet for him, that you’ve come at least once his tongue, that you’re as prepared and ready as possible in order to take him with minimal pain.
And Uvogin is good with his mouth, too – he’s got amazing stamina, and is able to stick with a consistent speed and tempo.
His fallback is to lick small, tight circles with medium pressure, but he’s always stealing glances up at you to check your facial expressions, adjusting anything and everything he think she needs to in order to get your eyes rolling to the back of his head.
He’ll start with light kisses spanning along your inner thighs and all around your core, pressing butterfly licks against your folds that are barely there and leave you wanting more more more.
He’ll press kisses against your clit, coming down to kitten lick and stare at you the whole time, a smirk sitting on his lips each time you bite your lip or keen.
He'll slowly add more pressure, building up the pace a bit too, until he’s licking shapes against your bud and occasionally sucking it into his mouth lightly, feeling the way your thighs tense up a bit around his head, loving the way your eyes flutter closed and you grasp onto the pillow underneath you.
He’ll occasionally dip down to lick long stripes along your folds, dipping his tongue in to tease your entrance, making lewd, obnoxious slurping noises just to hear you get embarrassed.
He loves it, and as soon as he gets to a pace he thinks you’re liking, he’ll stay down there for as long as it takes to get you coming, whether that be five minutes or an hour – it’s worth it, because when you get all doe eyed and shake and writhe and cream on his face, you look so fucking pretty, so perfect he can’t help but grind against the bed, anything to relieve some of the ache.
DRIVE:
In general, his sex drive is high. It’s always been that way, really, even before you stepped into his life – the thrill of combat and sex are two of his guiltiest pleasures, and he’s absolutely no stranger to hook ups.
He’s not unbearably horny, but he toes the line quite well, needing to get off at least two times a week in order to stay functional and sane.
So really, once his obsession with you forms, sexual thoughts revolving around you are very, very quick to follow.
Frankly, when he first realizes that he’s drawn to you, that there’s just something about you that he can’t seem to leave alone, he genuinely believes it’s simply a sexual attraction to you that’s messing with him. He rationalizes these infant stages of his infatuation with you as simply wanting to fuck you, rather than wanting to have you.
And Uvogin is a man of opportunity – he can’t not imagine stripping you bare and cupping at your tits, smacking your ass, perching you on his lap and bouncing you up and down like you’re just some glorified sex toy.
The images come quickly and startingly easily – too easily, really, because imagining all the different ways he wants to get you screaming his name and gushing for him really should’ve clued him in to the fact that his feelings for you go way beyond physical.
And eventually, once he decides that you’re more than just a hot piece of ass, he can’t just forget about the multitudes of nights he’s fantasized about spending hours with his face between your legs, or the number of times he’s soaked his fist with cum from merely thinking about how you’d look with your pretty face pressed into the mattress, his form caging you into a prone bone position while he absolutely destroys your tight little pussy.
He can’t – won’t – forget, and so as his obsession becomes richer, deeper, more hopeless, Uvogin’s sexual fantasies revolving around you become harder and harder to control and fight. Because really, how can he not imagine even more once he’s realized he’s in love with you?
Sure, he still wants to shove his cock down your throat and hear you choke and struggle with his girth, but now he also wants to trace his tip along the shape of your lips, to see your pretty eyes sparkling up at him with a few tears dotting the lashes, to feel you moan around him at his taste.
Sure, he still wants to bend you over and feel that perfect, tight little pussy of yours, but now he also wants to thrust softly and sweetly, to get deeper and brush against the spot he knows you like, to make you cry out his name rather than just scream and gasp.
The sexual fantasies are still explicit, but they’re more loving, more like making love rather than just animalistic fucking – and of course, once these thoughts develop in their entirety, Uvogin has to exercise an extreme amount of self-control to not act them out.
He’s painfully aware of the fact that you likely aren’t clamoring to sleep with him, partially because you’re infuriated at him for kidnapping you, and terrified of him because of his physical stature and criminal status.
He’s sure you don’t particularly want to be with him in a sexual way (though he hopes, desperately, that one day you will), and the last thing he wants is for you to be even more afraid of him, or to hate him even more.
And so, Uvogin won’t force himself onto you.
He won’t force you onto your knees or strip your clothing off of you or anything of the sort. He wants to, of course, so badly that it nearly drives him insane, but he won’t do it out of respect for you and a selfish desire to get you falling in love with him.
What he will do, however, is make it perfectly, abundantly clear that if you’re ever in the mood, he’s more than willing to oblige.
He’ll tell you, pretty much from the beginning of your captivity with him, that if you ever desire absolutely anything physical at all, he’ll be naked and eagerly waiting for you within seconds.
And that includes everything: simply using those massive palms of his to grope and squeeze at your breasts, calloused fingers gently rolling a nipple between them and listening to the way you sigh out.
(He’ll approach you with this particular offer when he knows your menstrual cycle is nearing, when you’re bloated and soar and desperate for any kind of reprieve – you need someone to hold those for ya, babe? They’re looking awfully heavy, and you’d be surprised how gentle these fingers can be.)
He’ll offer to finger you when you seem stressed, that grin of his wolfish and eager but also strangely genuine, as if the prospect of pleasuring you isn’t just some sexual urge and rather something he wants to do, as if it pleasures him, too.
(This offer is always accompanied with a rather showy wiggle of his fingers, making sure the veins and tendons in his hand are visibly flexing, just to try and entice you even more – and it works, because although you shake your head and tell him that you strongly pass, he can see the way your eyes are glued to his fingers, how your thighs press together ever so slightly, how you can’t hide the desire swimming in your eyes.)
He’ll offer to let you sit on his cock when you’re feeling lonely, telling you that he’ll be there the whole time, how you can’t possibly feel lonely when there’s literally someone inside of you, patting his groin – with pants barely holding back his straining erection – and telling you that he won’t try anything funny he promises.
(And he’ll stay true to that promise – it’s actual torture to not fuck up into you, to not bounce you up and down in his lap and feel the way your walls desperately clench down on him, but he holds himself back. Besides, feeling you slowly, slowly work your way down his length is a treat enough, each inch stretching you further than you though possible, your little hisses and whines and whimpers making him physically throb inside of you.)
He’ll even offer to fuck you when the mood feels right, telling you that he’s never left a partner unsatisfied, that he knows how to treat you, that he’ll be slow and gentle and soft and sweet, something that he means with every fiber of his being.
(At least, he’ll be all those things the first time he gets you naked in his arms – after that, anything goes. He can’t always be expected to control himself, after all.)
It’s mildly intrusive and will make you uncomfortable in the beginning, but as time passes and he doesn’t actually force anything onto you, merely offering, slowly your walls will start crumbling.
If you’re stuck with him, maybe it isn’t the end of the world if you get something out of the ordeal – you’re trapped with him, but does that mean you aren’t allowed an orgasm?
Sure he’s kidnapped you and keeps you locked away in a modestly furnished home, but is it really so wrong of you to accept the pleasure he seems more than happy to give you? Does that make you a bad person, or a selfish person?
With time you’ll start thinking no, that perhaps letting Uvogin eat you out for hours and bring you high after high wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world – and he’ll be very, very happy to oblige.
(And you can tell, too – the way he groans and growls against you makes it hard to ignore, as does the way something warm and wet and thick splatters against your thighs when he’s got you hovering over his chin.)
MAIN THREE KINKS:
Size Kink
Uvogin is more than aware of the size difference between the two of you.
It doesn’t matter how tall you are, or how large you are – he is bigger than you, both in stature and presence and every other measurable way. He’s a hulking figure that takes up the entire side of the dining table you share meals at, needing to wear shirts that literally fall off your frame, dominating and bigger than you in every sense of the word.
And he knows this - he’s completely aware of how you’re so small compared to him, so tiny and adorable and breakable, and when it comes to really anything between the two of you, he has a tendency to take this fact to heart, to be beyond careful in making sure that he does absolutely nothing that could ever put you in harm’s way.
Though he won’t admit it, having you hurt or afraid of him in any way is genuinely one of his worst fears, and although he knows he can do nothing to change his physical appearance, he takes care to come across as least threatening and as welcoming as possible.
And when it comes to the bedroom, Uvo is even more hyper aware, because when he’s buried inside that tight, cute little cunt of yours, his orgasm rapidly approaching, it’s almost disturbingly easy to lose control, to just pin you down and fuck the absolute shit out of you, until you’re nothing more than a quivering, split open mess below him.
He has to keep an incredible amount of focus when his orgasm looms near to make sure that he doesn’t dig his fingers into your skin too hard lest he leave bruises, or that he doesn’t fuck into you at the pace he truly wants to lest he push a little too far and tear something.
He doesn’t want to hurt you, so he tries his absolute best to keep you on top, to keep you controlling the pace and everything else in order to keep you safe and feeling good.
(Besides, he’s got a great view when you’re on top – he can see, all in the same glance, your pussy sucking in his length over and over, your breasts bouncing and jiggling, even your face all twisted up in ecstasy as you ride him as hard as you can. He’s not particularly hands-off during sex, but often he’s tempted to simply lay back with his arms crossed behind his head, content to watch your show and let your cunt bring him steadily closer to orgasm. His desire to see you gasp and stare wildly at him in shock and pleasure often outweighs this urge, however, because he almost always settles his hands on your hips and helps guide you, suddenly thrusting just a hair deeper into you and hearing your cry of a-ah Uvo too deep!)
However, that isn’t to say that Uvogin doesn’t enjoy the size difference between the two of you – on the contrary, he thinks it’s beyond cute, that it’s adorable just how tiny you are in comparison to him.
And while the fear that he could hurt you is very much omnipresent, he can’t deny how it makes his heart race and blood pump to his cock when he sees how just one of his hands engulfs your entire thigh, how you struggle to straddle him because his waist is just so muscular and wide, how your breast is completely engulfed by his palm when he roughly fondles and kneads at it.
It’s endearing in a way, how cute and small you are beside him, and even more obvious when you have your hands wrapped around his cock, your fingers not able to close completely around his girth.
Seeing you struggle so much to simply jerk him off makes Uvo smug, a smirk falling across his face while he groans, little murmurs of your name tumbling past his lips while you work at him, trying desperately to get him to come, to get him to tell you how you’re a good girl, fuck look at your hands, ngh wanna – gonna stretch out that tiny little cunt with this fat cock, you want that?
It’s most definitely a guilty pleasure, something that makes him feel big and strong and important, and in the context of your sexual relationship, there’s just simply no way to get around the fact that Uvogin quite literally towers over you.
(Especially when you’re on your knees, staring up at his imposing stature and the large, swollen, veiny cock sitting at eye level, his voice teasing as he tells you to go on, it won’t bite, I promise. Only I do that.)
Praise
Generally Uvogin isn’t particularly derogatory in bed. He’s not a big fan of degradation in general, both in and out of the bedroom, partially because he’s not a naturally mean person (aside from the criminal activity and murder, of course), and partly because he really does cherish and love you. He thinks you’re beautiful and perfect and everything he could want in a woman, and his honesty bars him from ever saying anything to the contrary.
He doesn’t want to tell you that you’re just a slut, that you’re a hole for him to fuck, that you should stay quiet and let him get what he wants – he wants you, in more ways than one. He loves you, in his own twisted, fucked up way, and he wants your time in bed together to reflect that sentiment.
And so, Uvogin falls on the opposite side of the spectrum from degradation – that is, there’s a nearly overwhelming amount of praise in the bedroom.
Comments about how pretty you are or how good at something you are constantly slip past his lips, his voice gruff and low as he tells that you look so damn pretty on your knees baby.
He’s got a compliment or praise ready for every possible situation in bed – you’re undressing, struggling to get the giant shirt Uvogin had forced you into this morning up over your head? He’s chuckling, grinning, slapping your ass and telling you that you’re so damn cute, princess, makes me go crazy when you wear my shit.
You’re kissing him, pinned below him with your wrists over your head? He’s licking his lips as he pulls back, planting kisses against your neck and telling you that you taste so good, you’re so fucking pretty.
You’re biting your lip and carding your fingers through your hair as he sucks and playfully bites at your nipples? He’s burying his face between your breasts and vigorously shaking it, laughing and telling you that these tits are so perfect babe, god I always wanna touch ‘em and kiss ‘em, how about no more bras around the house? Or maybe no more shirts at all – don’t expect me to control myself, yeah?
You’re sinking to your knees while he sighs and grabs the base of his cock, running his tip over your lips while he stares down at you? He’s telling you that you look so pretty babe, can’t wait to see these lips with my cum on them instead.
You’re perched on his lap, his tip barely nestled inside you while you wince and bite your lip? He’s running soothing hands up your sides, cooing at you that you’re doing so good baby, ‘m so proud of you, fuck you’re tight, feels so damn good.
You’re on your hands and knees, chest and face pressed in the mattress while he mounts you from behind, hips flush with yours and pummeling into you with no mercy? He’s leaning all the way over you and growling into your ear that you’re mine, babe, fuck don’t you ever forget, god this pussy is so good, y’so damn tight and wet, gonna make me come baby, you want that? Yeah? You want my cum?
You’re underneath him, tits bouncing every which way and body physically thrusting back and forth as he fucks into you with a sturdy hand pressing right over your naval? He’s laughing breathlessly, using his free hand to push back his hair and telling you to take it baby, fuck yeah just like that, you look so damn hot like this.
Even when he’s in the middle of coming, thick spurts of white shooting from his swollen, red tip, he’s praising you – telling you that you take him so well, that you always take – fuck, take it all, look so damn pretty with my cum in you.
He just genuinely believes that you’re beautiful, and because he’s naturally quite talkative, this shows in the bedroom – he can’t not comment on how you look, how you feel, how smell, how you taste.
It would be wrong to not let you know how much he’s enjoying being with you, how badly he’s dreamed of fucking you, or how long he’s dreamed of touching you – so really, even if his constant praise embarrasses you, you’d best get used to it. He won’t stop, and if you were to return the favor?
Well, his ego isn’t particularly fragile, but he can’t deny how it affects him any time you moan out about how good he feels or how big he is or how you’re close – oh god, ‘m gonna come, oh god Uvo Uvo Uvo-!
He can’t deny the way his cock jumps, how it twitches and pulses and oozes out precum at just hearing your voice and words, hearing his name and feeling the way your body seizes up all because of him him him.
 He’s a sucker for it, so expect sex with him to be loud and full of compliments – even if they’re a little vulgar sometimes (fuck babe, these tits – I wanna fuck ‘em, get them all messy and covered in my cum fuuuck-) or oddly specific (god you taste good, those panties of yours don’t even come close…).
He just can’t help himself, so get used to it – he won’t stop, even if you beg him to.
Cum play
He’s possessive, and it shows in the bedroom.
He’s always got a hand on your body, hickeys bruising your throat, collarbone or inner thighs, handprints decorating your ass, or even a light bite mark here and there along your thighs and stomach.
He likes the concept of claiming you and physically showing that you’re his, and while this presents itself in normal ways like previously mentioned, Uvogin’s favorite form of showcasing that you belong to him is by getting his cum absolutely everywhere on your body.
He produces an insane amount of it with every orgasm – it just keeps coming, spurt after spurt shooting from his swollen tip and landing on your body or the sheets underneath you, all the while he’s groaning and his hips are involuntarily thrusting, making everything even more messy.
His orgasms last easily twenty seconds, with a constant stream of white, and Uvogin loves nothing more than to absolutely paint you with it.
When your hands – so small and cute and soft compared to his calloused skin – are wrapped around him, pulling and tugging, the slick sound of spit and lube clicking in his ears, he’ll give a warning of here it comes, shit baby take it – and immediately your hands are covered in it, pools of cum dribbling down onto your fingers, slipping down your wrist and leaving everything sticky and wet and warm, Uvogin’s chest rising and falling with both the force of his orgasm and the sight of his cum against your skin.
(He’ll always grab your hands afterwards, slipping your fingers into his mouth one by one and licking away his cum, only to kiss you afterwards and push it all into your mouth, entertained by your surprised sound and the way you squirm against him.)
When you’re struggling to fit him into your mouth, only able to take the first few inches and leaving your hands to deal with the rest, he’ll dig his fingers into your hair and hold you there, biting his lip and telling you to swallow every last fucking drop, don’t wanna see any wasted babe before letting go, listening to the way you gag and eagerly swallow everything he’s giving you.
He’ll pull away with harsh breaths, watching the way you eagerly suck in air, your lips wet and glistening with spit and cum, your tongue still painted a white color.
(Sometimes, when he’s feeling particularly possessive, he’ll instead pull back right before letting go, telling you to stay sitting on your knees while he stands, fisting his cock at a near inhuman speed before pointing it right at your face, letting go and watching as ropes land across your cheeks, nose, lips and forehead, your entire face streaked with him in a way that makes his knees weak. Often, he’ll shake his cock a bit right at the end, eager to get every little bit out and onto you, groaning in satisfaction when the last, weakest little spurt lands right on your outstretched tongue. He’ll lean in closer and smear the cum across your skin even more, his voice sounding genuinely awed as he tells you that you’re so damn beautiful baby, fuck, get on the bed, I need to fuck you. Now.)
He loves to have you take his cock between your breasts, regardless of their size – he wants you suckle on his tip and rub your skin against him, feeling your pebbled nipples and the soft plush.
When he gets close, he’ll pull back and finish himself off, having you lay on your back while he straddles your waist, painting your breasts white and paying special attention to smear it across your nipples, pinching and twisting and pulling at them.
And even when he’s actually inside you, his penchant for being picky about where his cum goes doesn’t change – nine times out of ten he will come inside you, pushing his hips all the way the hilt so that he can finish as deeply as possible, the groan he lets out sending pleasure racing up your spine.
You can often literally feel it inside of you – something warm and wet filling you up, his cock spasming with every spurt, his balls clenching and tightening against your ass as he whispers your name under his breath.
(Most of the time, there’s simply too much to keep inside of you – it just never seems to end, and eventually there’s some dribbling out of you, smearing against your folds and dripping down the curve of your ass, sometimes even leaving a small pool against the bedsheets. Uvogin is equal parts proud and irritated when this happens, though – proud because god, you look perfect with his cum leaking out of you, but irritated because all of that really should be inside of you, not wasted and sitting on the bed. So, he'll scoop it up with his fingers, pushing it back inside you and fucking it up into you until he’s satisfied, the wet shmucking noise making him grin.)
Sometimes, though, he’ll pull out right at the last minute and instead come onto your cunt, letting the white settle against your inner thighs and coat your folds, leaving everything in a layer of opaque cream as he growls out your name.
He’ll often have you keep your legs spread even after he’s finished, moving closer to peer at his handiwork, getting so close and staring so hard that you inevitably get embarrassed, especially when he uses both thumbs to spread your folds and watch the cum dip down inside, even a few drops dribbling down inside you, the sight making him inexplicably satisfied.
Really, Uvogin just likes seeing you with his cum – whether it’s on you or inside you, he will find a way to incorporate it – it helps quell his possessiveness, and he can’t deny that the sight just looks so right, like something carnal and primal and natural.
(Unfortunately, though, he is a bit sensitive about you trying to clean it up – he often won’t let you shower after sex, telling you that it's better if you keep it on you or in you, and if you were to complain about it, he’ll just grab a pair of your panties and force them up your legs, the mess he’d left between them soaking into the fabric and making them damp every time you sit down or move. Again, don’t try to fight it – you won’t win, and Uvogin will often reach down between your legs just to ensure that you haven’t cleaned up – it’s a waste, he’d say, and he knows his girl isn’t wasteful.)
OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:
Overstimulation
In general, Uvogin loves to please you.
He’s by no means submissive, but there’s something about bringing you pleasure and watching you fall apart for him that gets him harder than he’s ever been, all the blood rushing to his cock so quickly it nearly makes him dizzy.
He just loves the way you look on the brink of an orgasm, how you look at him with such wide eyes and need, how you clutch onto him and chant his name over and over. He likes how your hips twitch and jerk in his grasp, how he has to physically hold you still so that he can keep his tongue working over your clit or his fingers thrusting into you.
It’s addicting, honestly, in some ways even better than his own orgasms – and so, Uvogin finds himself making it a priority every time he gets you naked that you find your high, unwilling to stop until you come at least once.
And that’s really the key – at least, because any given sexual encounter with Uvogin generally results in you having at least three orgasms. He absolutely loves to overstimulate you – watching you come is one of his favorite sights, those dark eyes of his always hyperfixated on your pretty face as you fall apart, and the face you make when he doesn’t stop?
When he keeps his fingers on that cute clit of yours, still rubbing and pressing and making you feel good even as you gasp and whine about how it’s too much?
Well, it makes Uvogin grin, pearly teeth on display as he tells you to take it baby, be a good girl for me, yeah?
He likes the way you squirm and beg for him, your legs shaking like crazy and your abdomen visibly clenching and unclenching.
He likes the way you get so sensitive and grasp onto him like he’s your lifeline, pushing him to get you off twice, three times, four times, sometimes even five in a single session.
Of course, he likes seeing you pleasured, but there’s a bit of selfishness at play too – because when you’re holding him so tightly and moaning out in that perfect voice of yours please – please Uvogin (he’s not sure whether you’re begging for him to stop or for more – and he suspects you’re not sure either), how can he not feel utterly self-satisfied?
How can he not feel like a good lover, not feel like your dependence on him is growing more and more with each orgasm?
He views it as a good way to simultaneously get you a trembling mess for him and to also solidify your growing feelings for him - plus, he gets to lick his fingers clean of your wonderful taste while also getting to sink himself inside your soaking wet, twitching, hypersensitive cunt already practically milking him for everything he’s got…
It doesn’t take him long to come after that, and the sight of you exhausted, twitching, and leaking thick, white globs of cum is positively droolworthy.
Femdom
But in a very specific way – you’ll never be truly in charge in bed with him, if only because there’s not a single submissive bone in Uvogin’s body.
Sex with him is under his terms and conditions, but he’s generous enough to care about your pleasure and your desires, too.
That said, Uvo is incredibly entertained by your attempts at dominating him – it’s not necessarily hot or attractive, but it’s incredibly endearing and sweet, and serves to make his heart melt and his cock swell with the knowledge that eventually he will be shattering this fragile illusion of control you’re creating.
He likes when you get on top of him, your poor hips struggle to straggle the expanse of his own, his cock pressing harshly and insistently against your ass while you bite your lip and steel yourself.
He likes the way you try to move his arms over his head forcefully (you aren’t actually moving them, even if you think you are – he’s letting you, manually moving them for you, letting you believe that you’re doing it when it reality it’s all him), seeing the way your eyes light up and your thighs squeeze around his hips tighter.
He likes the way you lean down to kiss him, your tongue rushing into his mouth, your kisses noticeably more aggressive than usual but still nothing particularly dominant.
And yet, Uvogin lets you take the lead, letting you control the pacing, the angle, everything just to maintain this illusion of dominance.
He’ll let you tie the blindfold around his head, limiting his vision but not hindering any of his other senses, conveniently forgetting to mention to you that he can still feel your every breath, hear your every movement, practically taste what you’re going to do next.
He’ll let you slowly sink down onto his length, pulling back every few moments to tease his length and leave him wanting more.
Uvogin will take it all in stride, entertained at the way you try to be dominant and in control, only to shatter it once he decides you’ve had your fun, once you pull off of him one too many times and leave his cock wet, throbbing and needing your pussy so badly it hurts –
It’s not hard to rip his wrists out of the dingey bindings you’d placed them in earlier, fingers immediately digging into the plush of your hips to force you back down onto him, setting a brutal pace combined with his own thrusting hips and moving your body up and down so that every brush of his cock into you leaves you gasping, panting for air because it’s all so unexpected and he’s just so deep and big and god…
You can try being dominant all you want, because he finds it entertaining and endearing, but know that at the end of the day you will be the one at his mercy, your body simply his to toy with and tease as he sees fit.
BIGGEST FANTASY:
It's no secret that Uvogin is possessive – you’ll learn this from the very moment you become aware of his feelings for you. He firmly, whole-heartedly views you as his, just as he is yours.
And in the context of your sexual relationship, this mindset of his is only more apparent, more blatantly obvious with the way he clutches onto you and tells you how much he loves his little pussy between your legs, the way he leaves bruises on your hips and ass from smacking you or holding on just a bit too tight while he’s fucking you, or even sinking his teeth lightly into the flesh of your shoulder so that you’re marked as his.
It satisfies the intense desire he feels to keep you by his side and away from everyone else, all with the added benefit of getting you writhing and moaning his name.
And so, most of Uvo’s fantasies in the bedroom tend to branch off from his possessiveness – specifically, while it would be unlikely to happen, he desperately, desperately, wants to fuck you in a semi-public space so that his fellow Troupe members can hear.
He wants them to hear you screaming his name, your pleas and cries sounding like music to his ears and showing them exactly who gets to touch you, who makes you feel good, who’s allowed to dump fresh, potent cum in your cute little hole.
It makes him giddy, genuinely, excitement brewing in his chest because he loves the idea of publicly claiming you, about making sure that everyone knows that you’re his, that every part of you belongs to him.
He likes everyone knowing that only he gets to touch you and make you moan and scream, that it’s only ever his name that’ll be leaving those pretty lips of yours.
Plus, this fantasy fulfills that possessive urge without actually letting other people see you – he can’t stomach the thought of any of his fellow Troupe members actually seeing your naked body or the way you look at the height of your pleasure – Shizuku can’t ogle like she does, Shalnark can’t fist his cock to the sight of your tits bouncing, and even Franklin can’t swallow and ghost a hand over his crotch at the sight of your body taking his too-big cock.
It’s perfect, a fantasy that he’s harbored since the early days of his infatuation with you – and while it’ll take a while for him to actually act out, he wants nothing more than to utterly claim you all while his friends can hear.  
            “You gonna scream for me baby?” Uvogin grunts, his hips snapping into yours just a bit harder.
            Everything feels like too much – he’s holding you up against the wall, the cold brick digging into your back just mixing with the onslaught of pleasure his cock is giving you, bullying its way inside you and leaving you clenching down on him with every thrust. He’s so big – stretching you out nearly past your limits, making you drool and moan and shake, thoroughly destroying you long before he’s even bothering to reach for your clit.
            You’re a mess already, and Uvogin knows it. It makes him smirk, staving off his own orgasm in favor of making sure he fucks you just right, just to make sure the rest of the Troupe can hear you on the other side of the wall.
            “I can’t hear you.” He growls, burying his face in your neck and biting his lip to hold his release at bay. It’s hard to – you’re so damn tight and warm around him, and each time he pushes just the tiniest bit deeper inside you, you squeeze up like a vice, massaging and pulsing around him so well that it makes his knees weak.
            “Fuck, Uvo Uvo Uvo Uvo -!” You’re chanting his name, the words slurred together and sounding strained, and it only makes him thrust into you harder, enough force landing on each push of his hips that it physically gets you bouncing, even mid-air.
            He can hear faint, muffled talking from the other side of the wall, and it only makes him bare his teeth, lightly biting the shell of your ear. His fingers dig into your thighs, his grip on them firm and tight.
            “Shit baby, tell them who’s fucking you like this,” He starts, only to cut himself off with a groan when you clench down on him particularly hard. His hips stutter for just a moment, and you claw at his back at the sensation.
            “It – it’s you, Uvogin!” Your voice is strained and slurred, and it makes Uvogin grin.
            “Who’s cock is this perfect little pussy taking? Who’s it belong to, huh?” His voice is gravely and deep, husky and making your toes curl as your eyes roll to the back of your head.
            “Uvogin Uvogin Uvogin!” You’re practically screaming at this point, and he hears a dull thud from the next room over.
            He barks out a laugh and buries his face into your neck, forcing his hips to go faster, harder, deeper, anything to get you louder.
            And it’s working – you’re physically trembling, hips twitching and jerking wildly in his grasp, a non-sensical slurry of words spilling from your lips that make his heart and cock ache, each sound you make sending him closer and closer to his end.
            “Tell me what you want baby, fuck fuck fuck, tell me where you want it.”
            “Inside! Please Uvo, inside, need it inside me –“ You’re blabbering, but he doesn’t mind. A finger comes down to roughly press circles against your sensitive clit, and your reaction is immediate – you tense up, every muscle in your body seizing up as the pleasure mounts and mounts, his hips never stilling and drilling into that spot inside you over and over and over again –
            You come with a scream of his name, your cunt fluttering wildly around him, squeezing and pulsing and massaging him in a way that gets his knees scarily close to buckling, his own orgasm right on the brink as he presses you even tighter against the wall, leaving no space to breath as he literally fucks you into the brick.
            “Don’t you dare stop,” He warns you, each word punctuated by a sharp thrust.
            Another loud bang comes from the other side of the wall, and Uvogin freezes for just a moment as he hears the faintest sound of panting, of someone cursing under their breath, of something muttering out an oh fuck…
            He comes with a loud groan of your name, spurts of warm, thick cum settling inside you and making you cry out again, the sound music to his ears. A muffled groan sounds from the other side of the wall, and pride swims in Uvo’s gut as he watches you try to recover, your body shaking and your lips all swollen from biting them. He kisses you, hard, his tongue slipping into your mouth immediately, before helping you stand on your own and paddle to the bathroom to clean up.
            Once the shower starts running, Uvogin sighs and slips out the door, walking into the other room with a smirk spread across his lips. Feitan, Phinks and Nobunaga all look at him, the first with a disgusted look, the second with a noticeable blush, and the third with dazed eyes, clearly in the aftershocks of his own pleasure.
            Uvogin laughs, settling a hand on his hip. “Like what you heard, huh?”
            Nobuanga nods, Phinks’s blush only settles deeper, and Feitan snorts.
            Uvogin’s smile drops at that, his nen flaring up. “Too bad you’ll never even touch her.”
            His cock twitches at the mere thought, and soon he’s sliding open the glass door of the bathroom, pressing your chest against the tile wall, determined to see if his friends can still hear you over the sound of the rushing water.
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akutasoda · 3 months
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how would all teyvat people react to discovering the truth of the impostor? Would they ask the BSD cast to see the reader? (Sorry the bad grammar, inglish ins't my first lenguage)
a world of my own
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synopsis - in a world of abilities perhaps you had a very unique one
includes - venti, zhongli, ei, nahida, furina
warnings - gn!creator!reader, crossover fic between bsd and genshin!, angst, minor comfort, slight fluff?, small mentions of injuries, wc - 2k
a/n: first post after hiatus! this has been in the works for ages and im so sorry it took so long, i had alot pf fun writing and coming up with ideas for this! :) is this classed as sag!au?
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your ability was unique to say the least. abilities were rather unique anyway but yours was a bit more out there than the traditional scope of abilities. you never thought much of it at first, you didn't even realise until later in your life as it was quite difficult to figure.
you can't really make out when you first discovered let alone knew about your ability. because an ability to create life wasn't an everyday occurrence. your ability resolved around your writing, around your ability to craft worlds out of paper and ink and form a world that governs on it's own. with characters that can make their own decisions, with a world that can change according to their actions.
and at the time, you hadn't quite realised the extent of what that meant. so when you decided to craft a world around various nations that resembled that of the real world you didn't think much of it. if anything you found it exciting - especially because you could view the characters you fashioned through the pages and see how they adjusted to their world.
but very quickly you learnt that this world you had created was now it's own. while you could add to it and control it, that wouldn't do for when you were away as you couldn't dote on them 24/7. so you thought that a nice touch would be to add beings named 'archons'. god's who could maintain the lands you created and even give gifts to those the deemed worthy - 'visions'.
but apart from your bustling world that you created, you found other uses for your ability. uses that eventually lead you to having your skill recommended by a man who you briefly met, to an agency. you found him interesting when he approached you because he was no man.
he was a calico, one that could become human and he seemed to know all about your ability. and eventually, with your permission, he recommended you to an old student of his. a student who then accepted your application into the place named 'the armed detective agency'. and that was where you worked, you worked there in return for the protection they were asked to grant you for your ability - because if anyone found out, your life surely would hang in the balance.
the agency took up most of your time nowadays. so much so that by the time you had passed the entrance exam and adjusted to your new work, your world you created had dissolved into chaos. it seemed the archons you created had destroyed a nation you created, killing seemingly all residences.
and you didn't know what to do, you could recreate the nation but they probably would destroy it again. or you could get rid of your archons but they had become so integrated into the world you had no choice other than to let them be. and that probably was the best choice. this world you had created was now just as real as the world you resided in and even as the creator, interfering with what they did would be wrong.
and so you let it be. you still checked periodically on the world however. every night you would spend at least some time watching over your world and entertaining yourself with the experiences your characters had given themselves and the people they had become. but you also liked a more direct interaction occasionally.
as another element to your ability was to cross the threshold of paper and become one with the world you had created before returning to your true world. interacting with your characters face to face and exploring the world they had formed off your foundations of life you granted.
perhaps you also had favourites. and maybe they would find that things started going their way more often or whatever issue they told their new friend became mysteriously solved. however, the archons were slightly more aware, more tuned in to the world around them.
so much more aware that they could tell something wasn't sitting right. the first one to fully deduce what was occuring was the shogun. she had assumed the conclusion that the new person who often visited inazuma and the various other nations was nothing but an imposter. an outlier in their world, someone who threatened her eternity. and so word spread among other archons like wildfire - and they were more than prepared to defend the land they lived in.
when creating tevyat and it's residents you'd never expected them to turn on you. not sparing you the moment to explain or even defend yourself and now you were met with the wrath you gifted your creations. you sought out your shelter back in your real world - re-entering your world in a decreasing state of injury.
not even the agency could believe that the greatest danger came from your own creations. the agency made note to keep an eye on your creations now aswell. but what you hadn't realised, considering you never touched the world you created after, is that the archons had come to realise the misinterpretation. realise they had hurt what was in fact their creator - how else would you bave disappeared from their world completely throigh means of pages and ink? and now they wanted to transcend those same pages to fix their wrong doings. but you both knew it would be impossible right?
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venti ★↷
the tone deaf bard. not the original archon you created but the one you returned to. the bard that was an elemental being and now the archon in place of the deceased anemo archon you originally formed. but you still found him rather charming - he had his own quirks per say.
quirks that you never would've guessed would include him becoming so violent and unreasonable when he was convinced you were a threat. but those same quirks made him realise his mistakes rather soon after. if none of the other archons were going to apologize he would be damn sure that he tried.
but unfortunately he had very little idea on how he could break the barrier of paper and ink, to reach you - his creator. he wanted nothing more than to find you and apologize until his voice was hoarse and he could no longer sing. anything for your forgiveness.
but for now all he could do was mellow in his sorrow and wait for someone to devise a plan to get themselves back in your life.
zhongli ★↷
he was an interesting case. perhaps you went a bit too overboard making him both an archon and the geo dragon but you'd call that character building. but regardless, he was another one of the characters you had created with care and that meant he was no different.
he was very wise aswell. but perhaps he wasn't wise enough to question the electro archons actions and instead went along with them. and it was only when he hurt you that he realised who you may be when the ink and paper pulled you out their world. the world he realised you may of created.
the severity of what they might of done weighed heavy upon his mind and he would not rest unless the situation was solved. he needed to clear his and the lther archons conscience and the only way to do so would be to transcend into your world and apologize to their creator. and so he would do anything he can to make that happen.
ei ★↷
you knew your electro archon was more violent than her predecessor. but you couldn't blame her, she had lost alot and now she practically only had one goal in her mind. but you still believed she was fit for running the nation of inazuma and trusted that she would make the right decisions for it.
but you never anticipated this would be a decision she would make. one that caused you the most pain and suffering, most of your injuries sustaining from her. she was the one that decided you were an outsider that posed a threat to her eternity and the entire of tevyat. so maybe that was why she felt so much regret when she found out who you were.
how could she hurt her very creator? however the shogun still held a high pedestal and couldn't really comprehend her emotions so she would be the last to apologise if they ever made it too you. she would want to apologise but she can't.
(platonic!)nahida ★↷
nahida was not buer. she was in some aspects but not the very same from 500 years ago in their world, you guessed it would've been unfair to assume nothing would change. but even so, you adored the young appearing girl that filled the role of sumeru's archon. someone that made a great sacrifice and held vast amounts of knowledge.
she may appear as a young girl but she definitely had the attitude of a mother and you couldn't of been more proud of her. maybe that was why you were massively hurt by her sudden change. and she didn't feel great about it either. she was so reluctant to join and tried reasoning with the other archons that were more violent but nothing worked.
she probably was one of the first to realise who you truly were which only made her guilt worse. now you were gone, they had hurt their creator. and from sumeru's vast knowledge she would be the first to figure how to transcend to fix their mistakes.
furina ★↷
yet again another archon that you had not left in charge - but she was different. you found the sentiment to be rather bittersweet. your original hydro archon being beheaded and in her place the girl she asked to play her role in fontaine's vast tapestry. a human playing a god, guess anything could happen in your world.
furina was also another one that was hesitant to join the archons in their violence. she was rather conflicted and found herself confiding in neuvillette when the other archons realised theor mistake and this world had a creator - one they know hurt.
her regret and guilt made her almost forget completely about the prophecy. she wanted nothing more than to be the first person to break the barriers of pages and apologize. and even perhaps then if she got back in your good book you could help her erase the prophecy.
bonus: neuvillette ★↷
the hydro dragon. you had created the dragons for their respected elements after being motivated to do so - they would add another depth to the world. but the last thing you expected was for each of them to be stripped of their powers and left with the only option but to kill the respective archon for them back.
you hated what this had become but what little could you do now? neuvillette had only known of the situation when furina confided her regret in him. he despised the archons for jumping straight to conclusions and resorting to violence like they did all those years ago. but now all he could do was assist furina in her search to break the barrier of paper and ink.
while he may not have hunted you himself, he still felt as if he owed you an apology some how - and the idea of meeting his creator intrigued him. but residents of fontaine hoped that whatever troubled the hydro dragon would be resolved as it had never rained so much before.
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mishasminion360 · 3 months
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How Do You Do It?
Jack Daniels x fem!reader
Warnings: Mild language; words said in anger; stress-induced anxiety; mild angst; self-doubt; but lots of fluff, I swear.
Summary: Being a new mother and a homemaker are two difficult jobs to juggle at the same time, and even more of a challenge when your husband is constantly away. When Jack returns from his latest assignment to find you overtaxed and irritable, he decides to make it up to you by spending a day in your shoes.
A/N: What a busy summer/early fall. So much has changed in such a short time. Change is weird sometimes and brings a lot of stress. Had my first-ever panic attack. Zero stars; do not recommend. But even the stressful, scary parts of our lives can be inspiring. This fic is proof of that 😝
P.S. As you can see I began this fic in the fall of 2023 and look how late I’m posting it! I’m sorry for the long hiatus, folks, but believe me when I say it was necessary.
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How is it that your husband is the secret agent, but the weight of the world always feels like it’s been thrust upon your shoulders?
The day you found out you were expecting was one of the happiest of your life. You and Jack had been over the moon and spent the entire adventure of pregnancy fantasizing about all the joys of parenthood that would arrive along with your bundle of joy. You weren’t kidding yourselves; you knew that a baby brought big changes and more than a few challenges. You just weren’t aware of just how high those hurdles would be until you were thrown into the race.
The roles of wife, homemaker, and now mother all seem to merge into one monstrous, never-ending task; and your duties seemed all the more daunting when you were left to fulfill them alone.
Jack is nothing short of attentive and dedicated when he’s at home. The problem is that “home” is usually the last place one will find him. As of late, his job with the Statesmen pulls and pushes him this way and that into parts unknown where he’s embroiled in espionage for some indeterminate period, leaving you with a house to maintain, meals to prepare, clothes to launder, and a colicky infant to soothe.
You’re trapped inside a pressure cooker and the temperature is nearing critical.
***
“Baby Shark” is on its 25th iteration, every “doo doo doo” is like a bat to the back of your head. You dance topless in the living room with your wailing son clutched to your naked chest. You’d tossed your t-shirt into the wash twenty minutes ago, covered—like the two before it—in your baby boy’s milky vomit.
Your sanity is a mere thread, frayed, delicate, and seconds away from completely unraveling. Your head is pounding and back aching, and you’re trying to convince yourself that the flush of heat you feel just beneath your skin is not a fever. You can’t afford to be sick now. Not when you are all your son has; when you are all you have.
“Daddy’s home, darlin’!”
The sound of his voice, the familiar clip-clop of his boots on the hardwood floor, should fill you with after hardly having heard it for a solid week. Instead, it has your already tepid body simmering with frustration.
“Hey there, Mama Mare.” The affectionate term oozes from between his grinning lips with all the smooth, sweet ease of honey. “Give this ol’ cowboy some sugar. He missed you.”
His lips are on yours and then detaching themselves before your mouth can even register it’d just been in contact with another; far quicker and more careless than the long overdue reunion kiss you’d been anticipating. The brief little smooch held about as much passion as a handshake.
“There’s my little cowpoke!”
Jack lifts his squalling son from your arms and little John’s cries instantly cease. Of course they do. Of freaking course.
“Well, now, you didn’t have to get all dressed up on my account, honeybee.”
You snap to attention after possibly having fallen asleep on your feet for a split second to see that Jack’s devilish gaze has zeroed in on your bared tits.
“You certainly know how to welcome a fella home.”
While he’s busy ogling your non-seductive nudity, your own eyes have locked onto the trail of muddy prints stretching from the front door, each filthy footfall a perfect imprint of the sole of Jack’s boots. Yet another mess you’ll have to clean up; another chore added to the already heavy burden you’re shouldering.
“How’s about after dinner we mosey on upstairs, put this little buckaroo to bed, then I show you just how much I missed you?”
You don’t even know how to respond to him right now, so you don’t. You simply turn your back and walk away, seething in a silent rage as you stomp your way upstairs to put on the thickest, ugliest sweatshirt you can find that leaves everything up to the imagination.
John starts to wail once again, but that’s Jack’s problem now. You have about a million other tasks to accomplish—make that a million and one, thanks to his filthy freaking boots.
You slip into the master bath and toss back a couple of Advil for your pounding headache and by the time you re-emerge, Jack is pacing around your bed, hands on his hips and a pensive scowl on his face.
You take a deep breath through your nose and the words tumble from your lips in a sigh. “I haven’t started dinner yet. Give me just a few minutes and I can—“
“Did I say somethin’ wrong?” he blurts. “‘Cause you gave me a look back there that reminded me of an angry steer about to trample a rodeo clown.”
“Just forget it,” you mutter, brushing past him toward the door. His hand wraps around your wrist before you can cross the threshold.
“I ain’t forgettin’ nothin’,” he drawls as he turns you to face him. “Sugar, what’s wrong? No use lyin’ because I can tell somethin’s stuck in your craw.”
Oh, it’s stuck alright. Like a bug in a windshield.
“Jesus, Jack,” you sigh. “Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve had a total of five non-consecutive hours of sleep this week. Or it could be the fact that the house is a mess or that I’m down to my last pair of clean underwear. All the chores have been put on hold so I could tend to our son while you’ve been off playing ‘secret agent man’ in God only knows where.”
His mustache twitches and his jaw ticks.
“Honeybee, why didn’t you tell me you’ve been strugglin’? I would have—“
“Because I shouldn’t have to tell you!” you snap. “You should know me well enough by now to tell when I’m not okay! You should already have some inkling of how hard it is to raise a child and that the process usually goes much smoother when both parents are involved. But I guess I’m just a fool for assuming. Getting shot at is far less hazardous to your health than changing a dirty diaper after all.”
When the red finally clears from your vision you see that Jack’s has become clouded with a look you’d only bore witness to once and concluded that you never wanted to see again. His mirthful brown eyes dulled by a deeply rooted pain planted long ago by a cruel twist of fate. He’d been robbed of his first chance to be a husband and father and you’d just accused him of squandering his second.
“Sugar, I’m….I’m sorry.”
Shit. It’s not fair. You have been miserable for an entire week and you can’t stand to see him miserable for even a millisecond.
“No, I’m sorry,” you insist, voice and legs quivering. You lower yourself to the bed before exhaustion and gravity get the better of you. “I’m just so tired. Tired and frustrated.”
He drops to the bed beside you and pulls you into one of his signature hugs you’ve missed so much. The tightest of embraces that only he can give.
“I know you’re working hard to provide for our family,” you sob. “I know that but still I….I feel so alone, Jack.”
Before even a single southern-drenched syllable can leave his mouth, a sharp wail blasts from the baby monitor and your body reacts instinctively and urgently. You shoot up and out of Jack’s arms like a rocket.
“Let me check on him and then I’ll start dinner,” you say with a sniffle.
“I’ll get him, darlin’,” Jack insists, gently grasping you by the wrist and halting your minimal progress toward the door.
“But he probably needs—“
“I will get him.”
His hands are on your shoulders now—firm yet gentle—and grounding, comforting.
“Please, let me take care of my boy so you can take care of you, honeybee. And then, later, I’d like to take care of you, too. If you’ll let me.”
You can only muster a nod before he’s striding out of the room. Taking advantage of the first minute you’ve had to yourself in a week, you slip into the shower and let the warm spray unclench every muscle coiled tight with stress.
By the time you emerge, John is sleeping peacefully and a pizza’s been ordered. Jack dotes on you the entire evening, giving your aching feet a rub down with his skillful hands and cuddling you close as you both zone out to some ridiculous reality TV. His mere presence is a balm to your weary soul.
Whenever the baby cries in the middle of the night and your body moves on instinct Jack stills you, urges you back to the mattress, and takes on the challenge himself. It’s the best night’s sleep you’ve had in you can’t remember how long.
***
And surprisingly enough, you don’t manage to sleep any later than 9 a.m. The smell of extra greasy bacon lures you from bed, a siren’s call to your stomach.
John bounces in his high chair, babbling around a mouthful of mashed banana, most of which appears to have ended up on his face, shirt, and chubby little fists. Jack is an even more astonishing sight than your messy son, strutting about the kitchen in your frilly apron topping his off-white Henley and faded Wranglers.
“Well, good mornin’, sugar,” he cries, grabbing your hips to tug you in for a kiss. “Though I wasn’t expectin’ to see you up so soon.”
“How did you expect me to stay asleep when something smells incredible?”
“That would be my famous chocolate chip, peanut butter, and banana flapjacks.”
In true Southern gentlemanly fashion, he pulls out a chair and eases you into it before setting a towering stack of syrup-soaked pancakes before you, coffee and bacon following suit.
“Better eat quick now, darlin’,” Jack urges as he takes a seat with his plate. “You’ve got a busy day ahead of you.”
As if you could forget. That laundry is begging for attention, the house hasn’t had a good dusting in you can’t recall how long, and Johnny already needs a bath—
“I made you an appointment for noon.”
Your train of thought instantly stalls on the tracks.
“Appointment?”
Jack grins over the brim of his steaming mug.
“Honey, you need a break. Figured you might enjoy yourself a little spa day.”
You can hardly believe your ears.
“Spa day?”
“Yes, ma’am. Massage, mud baths, whatever the heck they do with seaweed, the whole nine yards,” he explains proudly. “I even called up your buddy from work and asked if she’d like to join you. And it’s all on me.”
“But Jack, what about John? And the house, the laundry, the cooking?”
“Gimme some credit, sugar,” he chuckles. “I think I can keep the homestead standin’ and our baby boy breathin’ for a day. Besides, it’s high time I start puttin’ in my fair share of help around here, isn’t it?”
You’re not sure if you want to thank him or burst into tears. Maybe both.
“You do so much, honeybee,” he says warmly, voice as smooth, rich, and sweet as the syrup sluiced atop your pancakes. “You move mountains every day to make this house a home. How’s about lettin’ someone do somethin’ for you for a change?”
You scarf down the rest of your pancakes before kissing him with sticky lips and racing up the stairs to get ready for your big day out.
***
You feel rejuvenated and refreshed. Brand fucking new. A far cry from the husk of a woman who’d left the house this morning. Wrapped in seaweed and slathered with mud you’d been returned to the earth and reborn at full strength, like a phoenix risen from the ash.
You'd been reunited with an inner strength and power you'd all but forgotten. And thank God for that, because you're going to need every bit of it to face the chaos you come walking back into upon your return home.
You can hear John’s piercing wails before you’ve cut the engine and opened the driver’s side door. You can smell the smoke before you've even reached the front steps.
Inside all hell has broken loose. Gray tendrils of smoke slither through the air, teasing the detector into screaming its warning. Your baby boy is giving it some stiff competition with his own cries as Jack struggles to bounce him on one arm while he tries to fan away the smoke with the other. Both gestures prove futile.
“It’s okay, buckeroo. You’re okay. Don’t cry. Please, please don’t cry.”
Jack looks so frazzled. The situation is far from funny so the last thing you should do is laugh at his expense. But dammit if you don’t anyway.
“Do you need some help there, cowboy?”
His frantic eyes find you through the haze and pierce you with a desperate, wordless plea. You take the inconsolable infant from your husband’s arm and soothe him into silence as Jack does the same to the smoke alarm.
“There now, Johnny. See? Everything’s okay. Daddy made the bad sound stop.”
“He just stopped cryin’ for you. Just like that.”
Something in his eyes burns. Something in his voice cracks.
“I couldn't bring him any kind of comfort. He didn't….want nothin’ to do with me.”
Your weary cowpoke sags into one of the chairs at the kitchen table and buries his face in his hands with an exasperated sigh.
“You were right, darlin’. I'm useless.”
You settle John into his high chair with a teething ring to distract him before turning your attention to your distressed husband.
“To be fair, I never said you were useless.”
“You may as well have,” he sighs. “And if you weren’t thinkin’ it before you’ll be thinkin’ it now.”
You smirk. “Rough day?”
“Oh darlin’, you don’t even know the half of it.”
He begins to recount the day’s challenges, his voice raising in pitch as goes from describing one hurdle to the next. He almost seems on the verge of tears.
“And I got so distracted while tryin’ to get our fussy boy to eat his dinner that I failed to hear the timer and let ours burn. Hence the fiasco you came home to. And when John started bellowing for his supper I was in the middle of the laundry and I forgot to separate the colorful items from the rest, so my new red jockeys turned our bathroom towels pink and….and I just failed so miserably today, sugar. I’m so sorry.”
You laugh, unable to help it. It’s all you can do at this point. “Welcome to my world, sweetheart.”
“How on Earth do you do it, sugar?”
If you’re being honest, you ask yourself that question at least once a day, and not always with the same emotional connotation behind it.
“There’s just something inside of me that encourages me to power through the difficulties. A force, a reminder.”
“An iron will for damn sure,” he scoffs.
“No, that’s not it,” you chuckle. “It’s love, Jack. For you and our boy. That’s what keeps me going.”
He looks at your have cradling his own, a gesture of both dominance and comfort. In this moment he believes that he is made of inferiority.
“I love you both to the moon and back, yet I can’t even do a load of laundry.”
“Jack you do enough. I have not, do not, and never will doubt your love for me and John,” you reassure him. “Acts of service just happen to be my particular love language, not yours.”
“Then what is mine?”
You lift his hands and kiss both sets of his knuckles. “Words of affirmation.”
His acts of service are for the world, but his words are just for you.
“But ain’t actions supposed to speak louder?”
“For others, maybe,” you shrug. “But that’s only because no one else speaks as loudly as you.”
@grimeylady @rav3n-pascal22 @mamacitapascal @insomniamama1 @pedrosbisch @emmaispunk @lv7867 @reonlouw @hawaiianmelodies @heythere-mel @healingstardust @delorena @pedropasxal @caesaryoulater @fangirling-alert @fromthedeskoftheraven @axshadows @dragon-scales88 @spacepastel-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl @hauntedmama @mswarriorbabe80 @horton-hears-a-honk @wild-at-heart-kept-in-cage @a-trial-run-on-paper @oonajaeadira @dhadiirah @felicisimor @practicalghost @luz-introvertida @amneris21 @hb8301 @tanzthompson @littlemisspascal @dobbyjen @supernaturalgirl20 @alexxavicry @harriedandharassed @trickstersp8 @neganwifey25-blog @twistedboxy @emiemiemiii @energeticspookyshark @thevoiceinyourheadx @pedr0swh0r3 @anamiad00msday @secretwriterpp @wannab-urs @pedrostories
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Text
𝕓𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕕𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕞𝕚𝕕𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕥𝕣𝕪𝕤𝕥
(tighnari x shy!fem!hybrid!reader) A/n: This is my first post from my hiatus. I really hope you all enjoy it. I've really been hooked on some new characters so you all might see some more variety in the future, as always- drink water, and enjoy <3
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚋𝚢 𝚊 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍. 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚎, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚝….
𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐; 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎, 𝚜𝚑𝚎/𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍, 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝.
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
Walking down the street, you were dressed up for the evening, dawning a stunning cocktail dress. The shade complimented your eyes perfectly, and sleeves slightly rolled up just enough to maintain a reasonable temperature in the summer night heat. You’d put a bow hair clip just next to your left ear that really brought out the wonderful shade of your fur. Feeling it sway as you walked helped build the confidence you were surely going to need.
Your friend Brian had set this up for you, in his words you “needed to get out more, and live life before it’s too late”. Something you didn't entirely agree with, but he did make a decent point that you were indeed a little lonely. You didn't particularly like people, as you typically got nervous around strangers, making you into something of an introverted loner. You much preferred studying medicine in the previous years occupied the majority of your time, leaving little to no breathing room to have a partner, let alone try to go on dates with anyone. It was just more comforting that way.
Well, it seems this evening you were lucky enough to find some time. You had spent the previous days testing for your senior finals. These were the last few classes you needed to graduate from the akedemyia. A difficult road, spending years studying different healing techniques, the mechanics of medicine, how to make the medicine, how the body works, and much much more.
The evening was pleasant besides the heat, mid-August seems to do that. The sun was minutes away from being fully set, reds and pinks painting the sky waiting to retire, leaving the city to the night-dwelling population of insomniacs and party-goers.
Arriving at a small cafe you were instructed to, you took in the sight of the sign reading “Puspa cafe”. You’d heard of this cafe before, but never quite got the chance to visit it.
Taking a breath, you settled your nerves, readying yourself for your blind date, and walked to the door- opening the wood frame and stepping into the warm atmosphere.
The lights were slightly dimmer than you expected- as is with most eateries in the evening-early night. Wandering around, you noticed a seat at a table that Brian himself had been occupying. walking over in your attire, you chuckled a little awkwardly- you hoped this date would go well.
“Well don’t you look lovely, I can see you went all out for your date.” Brian greeted, his tone slightly teasing but you could see he did genuinely think you looked nice. Taking the seat across from him, you took his glass of wine and took a sip, much to his dismay at the loss of his drink.
“Thank you, but to be honest- I have no idea what I’m doing. This is my first date ever really and I’m really nervous.” Brian took notice of the sweat drops forming just to the side of your temples. You saying you were nervous was an understatement, it was bad enough that your knees nearly gave out the moment you noticed someone walking towards the table. The man looked to be around yours and Brian’s age, maybe a few years older. His hair was platinum blonde and his eyes a jade green with tints of blue. He had freckles- and what seemed to be a very salty face since he walked in.
You turned back to Brian a little panicked, what if he didn't like the idea of being on a date and only agreed out of pity or something? Brian only looked at you and chuckled, “You’ll be ok, just be yourself. He just has a resting bitch face. He's really sweet.”
You glared for a moment, silently cursing Brian for not giving you this information to start with. That would’ve been especially helpful given the fact that people talking was not your forte. Shaking it off you put on a smile for this stranger, standing up at the same time as Brian to greet him. You took in his appearance for a moment. He was dressed up, but more casually than you’d done so.
Were you overdressed?
“y/n this is Ethan, he moved here from Fontaine not too long ago actually. Ethan, this is y/n, she’s a student at the akademyia. Now that the introductions are done, this is my time to dip. Play nice you two, wishing for the best” Was all that Brian said before throwing you to the wolves and running out the door, damn near tripping over himself. Your jaw dropped a little, just enough to stay under Ethan’s radar.
Closing your mouth, you looked back at the blonde hair brooding boy and smiled once again. When you spoke your voice was timid and a little shaky. “hi, I’m y/n…it’s lovely to meet you, Ethan.”
He looked at you with a raised eyebrow and his scowl only seemed to drop further. “I figured that you were y/n. Who else could it be?”
Well, this is awkward now. You looked away, feeling a little silly, and red-faced. “Yeah, that’s true.”
The both of you stood in silence for just a moment, the air was thick and awkward beyond comprehension. Without speaking a word, he turned and sat in the seat Brian had just stood from not 10 minutes ago. You took the cue to sit back down in your own seat. Taking the glass you’d stolen from Brian and tinkering with the handle to ease the anxious feeling, you tried to break the ice.
“So…uh…tell me a bit about yourself. What do you do for a living?" You looked at him slowly, hoping that this would start somewhat of a conversation. He turned his attention to you, seemingly squinting at your facial expression. He took a few moments, examining you and your body language.
“I’m a practicing medical professional.” He deadpanned, looking almost bored. When he didn't say anything further, you took the chance to ask more about his answer.
“Oh! That’s really cool. How long did you study? Could you tell me a little about what it’s like being in the medical field?”
He only sighed. “I studied for 8 years, and I graduated a few years early due to my advanced abilities in the subject. honestly, I wish I chose something else- it seems I can’t make enough money in this profession.”
“Graduated early you say? I wish I was that smart. I've been studying medicine by myself for a few years, it sounds really helpful to have been able to shave off some of that time.” You expressed, speaking a little fast. It was exciting to see that he also studied medicine! Maybe this wasn’t a lost cause after all. Feeling a little more comfortable, you leaned forward feeling your tail swish behind you. He seemed to take notice of this, smirking a little.
He leaned over making it obvious that he was looking at the appendage behind you. You blushed a little out of embarrassment, tucking it away a little bit to give him a hint that you would rather he be making eye contact than staring so intimately. He leaned back and finally stuck his two cents to your response.
“Well, not everyone has the ability needed to leave school so early, it’s difficult enough for us people, let alone someone like yourself.” His tone was matter-of-fact and you swear you heard your own thoughts shouting ‘what the fuck’ right at him.
Going between raising your eyebrow and narrowing your eyes, you settled on a gaped mouth and glare.
“I'm sorry? I don't think I follow.” Being a bit defensive was only natural in moments like this. Now it was his turn to glare right back.
“Well know, your kind’s only real reason for socialization is mating and doing what we humans tell you to do. Given you are derived from literal animals-” His words were cut off by you standing up. You hadn’t even eaten, hadn't even placed an order at the restaurant. you walked over to him and slammed your hands on the table.
“For someone who graduated early, you sure are stupid. Maybe take that misplaced confidence and stick it right up your ass, you jerk.”
This made Ethan stand up, looking livid at your outburst. At this point, most of the restaurants had all paused their meals and conversations to watch the scene playing out in front of them.
You took a slight step back, “Why’d you even agree to a date if you thought that way huh? What are your intentions?”
Ethan stepped closer as you stepped back. No one had intervened just yet, all simply staring in shock. You felt the eyes on you slowly breaking your confidence. He leaned over, still angry. “I think you can put two and two together. Now sit.”
You looked at him for a moment, distaste clear on your face. You scoffed and turned to leave but he placed a hand on your wrist harsh enough for it to hurt. You winced and a few folks stood up from their tables and walked over to your aid.
One of them took Ethan's wrist in his hand. Gripping with the same strength, making him let go. “That is not how you treat people. Get out now before I make you” Was all the older man had stated. Another person, the woman who’d been accompanying him had come over and taken you away from the situation. She led you outside a side door on the other side for fresh air and at least a little privacy.
She looked at your wrist, turning it over a few times to check for injury. When all she saw was a faint red mark that’d leave only a small bruise by morning, she released your hand. Looking up at you, her eyes were a beautiful brown, something you didn't mean to take too much notice of at the moment but ended up doing so.
“Are you alright?” She queried. Her voice was calm and a little husky with age. She smiled sympathetically, providing comfort given the situation. You returned the smile a little bit and nodded your head. “Good thing! Please don’t listen to that miscreant. He doesn’t deserve your tears or your time. You’re too pretty and too kindhearted for that. Don’t worry about having to go back in there, we’ll take care of him.” You nodded your head one last time, feeling thankful for her kindness, and you played with the hem of your sleeves a little bit. “Thank you, ma’am. It means a lot that you helped. I’m not even sure why I agreed to a blind date, maybe dating just isn't for me, but I’m glad you stepped in… you and your partner really saved me.”
“Oh shh, don’t say such silly things, you just haven't found the right one yet. There’s still plenty of fish out there, just give it some time. And there’s no need to thank us, we’d’ve wanted the same if we were in your place.” Was her rebuttal. “Will you be alright to head home, or would you like me and my partner to walk you home? There’s no pressure, we wouldn't mind at all with whatever you prefer!”
Your smile spread. Her kindness was touching and began erasing the words Ethan had said about you. It made you feel a bit better. Not entirely so, but enough that you felt happier than you did before. Shaking your head you let her know that you’d be alright walking alone and that you’d actually be stopping somewhere in town to get some fresh air for a little longer. She happily let you go, wished you a happy evening, and advised you to take some time to do self-care for healing before returning to the building.
You took your leave, walking a little ways into town. You stopped to look at the shops and what they had to offer. You still felt a little down by Ethan practically telling you that your “only purpose” was spreading your legs and living as a walking incubator. It both made you pissed and self-conscious.
Walking down the winding maze of Sumeru City, you came across a larger crowd. They seemed to be surrounding a performer and made quite a loud ruckus. Pulling your ears gently down to the sides of your head, you groaned. The sound was painful and honestly- headache-inducing. Though you did admire the music and performance of the city, the noise became something of a deterrent. You could usually get away with it in the day since you’d only needed to head to the Akademiya, but given tonight's agenda- you were exposed just a wee bit more than usual.
As you were turning around your attention was caught by someone. You took notice of his similar reaction to the music. He'd pulled his ears down to his head, and grimaced. His hair was two tones of green, both almost darkened to black, and a bright forest green streak ran through his bangs. His eyes had a similar green fading up into a brown-hazel color.
He was slightly taller than you, you took notice as you walked over to him- still covering your ears. He made eye contact with you and smiled- albeit awkwardly due to what you presumed was a mild headache he’d probably be forming.
As you finally fully approached him, you lowered one of your hands from your ears and tapped his shoulder. Once you were sure that he knew you were trying to communicate, you mouthed ‘follow me’ to him. Something he happily agreed to, it got him out of the loud crowd didn't it? And you seemed to have good intentions given the similar circumstance.
You both walked for a moment, just until you reached an area where letting your ears go didn't feel like excruciating punishment. You took a breath, finally being able to hear at your full potential. You looked up and smiled at this handsome stranger-
“Are you a little better? I noticed it was a bit loud over there. Figured you could use a hand”
he returned the smile politely, seemingly appreciative of your rescue. “Yes, it was rather loud. Thanks for that. I don't know if you’ve found any way out of that crowd.”
You felt your face heat up. His voice was intoxicating and honestly gave you butterflies. And his smile- though you knew it was more polite than anything- was beautiful. You cleared your throat putting a fist to your mouth to hide your blush, something he took particular notice of and felt his own face heat up.
“Are you alright, miss? You seem to be overheating a little. I’ve seen my fair share of ailments so I may be of assistance.” He stepped closer to put a hand on your forehead, seemingly from instinct. He stepped back quickly. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked first, I’m not sure what’s come over me. I’m not normally this forthcoming.”
The moment his hand met with your forehead you felt yourself melting into his touch, though you didn't outwardly show it. His hands were warm and softly calloused. When he pulled away, seemingly panicked, you simply smiled and chuckled at him.
“It’s alright, no worries! My name is Y/n. Who might you be, and what brings you out to the city at night?” Your question was welcoming, almost with silly intent while laced with curiosity. You would be lying if you’d said he didn't pique your curiosity just a little bit.
He relaxed a little when you excused what he thought was crossing boundaries, chuckling at his own embarrassment as well, cheeks dusted in pink. “Tighnari, I’m a forest watcher. I came to collect some materials for some research, thinking that night would be the optimal time to avoid loud crowds. But it seems I miscalculated. What's your name, and what brings you out here? You seem dressed rather formally for a night-time walk.”
Looking down, forgetting that you’d just come from a bombed date still wearing your dress, you looked back up and chuckled. “I’m y/n. Failed date, he ended up being a jerk (dickwad) so I decided to ditch and take a walk before heading home." Your response was honest, though you left out a few details. He cringed sympathetically.
“Failed dates are the worst. I’ve personally never been on a date, so I wouldn’t know firsthand, but a few of my friends have been and they sound awful when the other person seems to be such awful company.”
“It’s quite alright, this was the only one I’ve been on really. Though Brian is gonna get an earful when I see him again. he set up the blind date, even told me Ethan was a ‘sweetheart.’” Tighnari looked at you a little nervously but also seemed to hold a little humor in his gaze. You both just looked at each other silently for a moment. It took but a few seconds for your tail to betray you and sway happily from side to side.
His eyes were so pretty- that captivating ombre of earthly hues. The way they twinkle in the nighttime lights of the city, along with the moon overhead. They held the same aura that he did. strong-willed but humane. Wise and passionate. Caring, nurturing, calm, collected, kind, gentle-
“Hey, would you like to take a walk with me? I could use the company.”
You couldn’t stop yourself from speaking as your mouth moved on its own. The feeling of the words coming out- dripping like honey from your tongue. You panicked internally for a moment, he was a stranger! It’s not like he’d just accept a request to walk around. You certainly wouldn’t be following a stranger around only 5 minutes after meeting, why would he?
“I would love to. I’ve collected all my needed materials and have some time to burn before returning.”
Well, that caught you off guard-
Your smile grew exponentially as your tail sped up in its swaying, something he took silent notice of without any comment. He held his arm out for you, “Whenever you’re ready.”
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“No way! Really? you studied in the Amurta Darshan as well?!” You asked enthusiastically. Your arm around his as you listened to him talk. 
He nodded his head back, “Yes, I actually specialize in botany, I find it’s quite fulfilling. You practice medicine, you said, correct? Perhaps we can arrange for you to stay in Gandharva ville to practice medicine there. Archons know that with the obnoxious travelers eating random flora and getting sick all the time- we could really use your skill.”
You both banter, coming up with ideas continuously. Playing on each other's minds.
Coming round a corner, you both sat down on a bench near the edge of town. It’d been high up in the city and hosted a perfect view of the moon in all its glory.
You took a deep breath, smiling to yourself. This evening started off crappy, utterly awful, but something good did come of it. Turning your head to the side to look at Tighnari who seemed preoccupied with the moon, something good came of it indeed.
Shaking your head- you shook the thoughts away. You’d only known him for one night. You shouldn’t have feelings that quickly. He's just charming, that’s all. and smart, and funny….
The night seemed to be perfectly peaceful now until there were footsteps coming up the path to your little reprieve.
“You!-”
‘Here we go again....' was all you could think as Ethan came storming up the way to you and Tighnari, leading you to look at him wide-eyed. Tighnari looked at him and then at you, seemingly very confused. He had a hunch this was the ‘bad date’ you mentioned but was unsure.
Ethan came closer and closer and you couldn't help but stand up as he got close into your personal space, face mere inches from yours and yelling.
“You little bitch, thinking you can run off like that, leaving me to embarrass myself because you’re too much of a prud-”
“That's enough.”
Tighnari had put himself in front of you, pulling you behind him. You were shocked. He was willingly standing up for you?
You couldn’t see, but Tighnari’s glare was dangerous and aimed directly at the bastard that ungracefully graced tighnari with his attitude and fishy breath. “Who the hell are you?! This has nothing to do with you, fox.”
Ethan tried to step to the side to get to you, but Tighnari stepped in that direction too, continuing to block Ethan’s path. “Better question- who are you?” Was all he spoke, his tone was venomous and sharp. You noticed that Tighnari’d taken up a stance that seemed as though he was ready to fight. Before Ethan could answer, Tighnari had cut him off, “I wouldn’t try anything if I were you. it won’t end very pleasantly.”
You gripped the back of Tighnari’s shirt, to which he responded by grabbing your hand softly in his own, holding it visibly so that Ethan would get the hint.
Ethan only scoffed, and turned muttering something about “tease, just not worth it.”
As he turned the corner, you let out a breath of relief, finally he was gone. Tighnari turned around and looked you over, taking notice of the tears pricking your eyes. He gently put his hands on either side of your head, placing his forehead on yours. Normally this would’ve flustered you, but the moment called for comfort, something you desperately needed a pinch of. 
“Archons, the pheromones coming from that guy, what an asshole. Are you ok?”
You placed your own hands on his and nodded, letting a few tears fall. “Yeah…I’m ok.” This was his cue to move from holding your face, to holding your shoulders and pulling you into a hug tightly. One hand on your back, the other on your head. “Why’d you help me?..”
He sighed, leaning closer into the hug comfortingly. “Can I be honest with you?”
You nodded your head.
He took this answer to finally say his piece. “I…I’m not sure..something about you just makes me want to protect you, to spend more time with you, I just want to be around you…”
You were silent, utterly stunned. So he was feeling the same way as well? Was it an instinct thing? Was it…
“I’m sorry, that was brash wasn’t it? We barely met...I hope I didn't scare you off.” You leaned back, looking into his eyes that now seemed anxious for some form of response.
You chuckled and put your hands on either side of his face, much like he’d done with you before. “Do you trust me?”
He nodded his head, leaning into your touch. “Close your eyes.”
He obliged without objection, eyes squinting shut as your hands tightened around his jaw ever so slightly.
You took a breath, now or never. Make or break, this was it.
You leaned forward slowly, inching closer to his face with your own. The air was thick and your heart was pulsing beyond belief, it felt like it would jump out of your chest at any moment. You stopped just an inch or two in front of him.
When he felt your breath graze his lips he gasped a little bit, eyes relaxing from their previous squint. He seemed to understand what was happening finally, what he was feeling, what you were feeling.
Finally, you tilted your head slightly and connected your lips gently.
His lips were soft and relaxed, you could feel the tension release as you felt him lean into the kiss. His ears flattened to the side identical to as yours did. You let your thumbs brush under his eyes and then trail down to his neck and finally at the nape of his neck to play with the short hairs of his undercut.
His hands went from his lap, to holding your waist. His own thumbs ran circles over your hips, kneading at the skin concealed by the fabric of your dress.
The kiss was intoxicating, it felt like all the world around you had evaporated, leaving nothing but you and the wonderfully addicting man in front of you. You never wanted to leave this feeling, it felt like a dream that you could hold onto.
At some point, you both needed air, so you leaned back just enough for oxygen to enter the same lips that’d just been dancing with Tighnari’s.
“Meet me here tomorrow night?” was all you could mutter out, feeling blissful beyond words. You didn’t know you needed this, you finally understood the fuss about finding the one, the joyous other half.
“I’ll be here”
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thgfanfictionlibrary · 4 months
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Active Authors Masterlist (3)
Part 1 / Part 2 /
***Active (on this blog) is defined as a blog/writer who has updated within the past year. Inactive (on this blog) is defined as a blog/writer that has not been updated at all in the past year+. On THG Writing Hiatus (on this blog) is a blog/writer who has updated within the past year but has not posted a fanfic in the fandom in the past year BUT they may return to writing in the future. Lists will be updated as needed based on activity. ***
Created: November 17th, 2023
Last Checked:----
ipsygrace :: ao3, ao3, tumblr
Popular Fic: Peeta's Games: The Hunger Games from Peeta's point of view. This follows the original work as closely as possible and much of the dialogue is taken from the original and owned entirely by Suzanne Collins. (@igsy-blog)
JHsgf82 :: ao3, tumblr
Popular Fic: What's Mine Is Yours: Peeta's POV. Post-Mockingjay/Pre-Epilogue. A pregnant Katniss is feeling sick and scared. Peeta does his best to care for her while dealing with his own fears. Response to the Fluff Drabble Prompt: “This was my lap. Now apparently this is your lap.” (@jhsgf82)
JLaLa :: ao3, ffnet, tumblr
Popular Fic: Two Wrongs: “Katniss, you’re my best friend and I love you but seriously-marry you?” A marriage for the unmarriageable. Modern Day AU, set in San Francisco. (@jlalafics)
katnissdoesnotfollowback :: ao3, ff.net, tumblr
Popular Fic: Wrapped in Red: Katniss is trying to be a good friend to her recently divorced pal. She really is. But this holiday season, fate, her own feelings, and Peeta’s daughter have other plans. An advent style Everlark story. (@katnissdoesnotfollowback)
katnissmellarkkk AKA VanillaCottonCandy  :: ao3, tumblr
Popular Fic: Gravity: But he just stares at me for a long moment, his smile never wavering, then admits simply, "I'm just so happy that I threw you that bread." I feel my chest constrict, both moved by his words and exhausted from even standing inside this place again. And my eyes overflow then and all I can manage to say is, "so am I." / Katniss and Peeta, growing back together through a series of snapshots. Set Post Mockingjay. (@katnissmellarkkk)
LemonLuvGirl :: ao3, ffnet, tumblr
Popular Fic: Both of Us: An alternate ending to Catching Fire in which both Peeta and Katniss are rescued from the arena during the Quarter Quell. Our lips collide with gentle urgency, two half conscious minds struggling in the murky waters between sleeping and waking, layered with a need for comfort and something more. We kiss until he pulls back, panting, angling his hips away from mine. I know what he’s trying to avoid. He doesn’t want to scare me. But the thought of his body reacting to me isn’t nearly as scary as the idea that we almost never got to have this. (@lemonluvgirl)
LilyMaid :: ao3, tumblr, ff.net
Popular Fic: The Awkward In-between: Days after winning the 74th Hunger Games Katniss recognized her life was changing, not just her home. She was already mourning for that old life, when things were difficult, yet so simple. With a tightening in her chest and a fear she didn't understand, she wondered what would be left. Cannon Divergent AU- pre Catching Fire (@wistfulweaverwoman)
loungemermaid :: ao3, tumblr
Popular Fic: no grave could hold my body down (I'll crawl home to her): Finnick makes his way back to Annie, alive but in several pieces. He loses his right arm and leg to the lizard mutts in the sewer. While Thirteen can patch him up, he's going to have to go back, back to the Capitol, if he's ever going to get better. As it turns out, Peeta has to go too, has to try and pull his fractured brain back together. They help each other keep it together. Finnick is there to help when Peeta can't remember what's real and what's fake, and Peeta helps Finnick cope with limb loss (@loungemermaid)
MegaAuLover :: ao3, ffnet, tumblr
Popular Fic: Katniss Everdeen Is Not A Stalker: Canon AU- Katniss as a little problem, she can't stop looking through Peeta's window, trying to find a way to pay her boy with the bread back but as time goes on she realizes she wants more. But there is a problem the District is flooded with Peacekeepers and everyone faces danger as the Capitol tightens its reigns on the district. Can love bloom in the middle of adversity? Or will it shrivel in the face of surmounting danger? (@mega-aulover)
melissaeverdeen13 :: ao3, ff.net, tumblr
Popular Fic: give you my wild: a look into katniss and peeta's life as they grow back together after the war; their experiences with friendship, love, and parenthood. (@jenniferiawrence)
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tartagilicious · 1 year
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i love the fact that dottore just somehow was able to successfully treat collei's eleazar, and it's always just made me think 😭😭 who in his life had it to the point where he mastered caring for a disease with no cure? insane lore for a mad scientist archetype!! also hello (: this isn't the end of my hiatus, but i'm trying to play genshin more again now that i have the time so dottore brainrot is back!!!! c.w: blood
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all the ways to kill the one you love (1.6k)
When you fall to your knees in the dark hall, you can only pray that the person in front of you knows that it wasn’t of your own volition. The only thing to blame is your own negligence for getting you into this situation – perhaps you’d be in better shape if you had been more prepared for your Eleazar to break out. 
Because from the moment you set foot into the frigid country’s very own Zapolyarny Palace, it has been in your absolute best interest to stay under the radar. Coming from the Akademiya, you know well that you are not particularly popular with any of its inhabitants.
Though, that isn’t your concern. You’re here to determine if the Fatui have been able to locate the missing Dendro archon as a vessel of Irminsul; a child of Sumeru and vision holder in the Akademiya. Effectively, you don’t intend to make any lasting friends, so to say. You’re unsure of the Akademiya’s plans with the information you find, but whatever you glean from your time here will be insignificant once out of your hands.
It was easy to convince the Grand Sage that your place amongst the heretics in Snezhnaya would be with their soldiers, despite the fact that your student-life had been plagued by your condition. Because the simple truth is that they didn't care about the technicalities, as long as you’re able to relay the info they require, they could care less if you died with it. 
Your time in the Fatui itself has been anxiety-inducingly bleak, though, and certainly nothing like what you expected. Low ranking soldiers are treated as employees, almost, sent from place to place in order to protect property and officials. But nothing has ever made you rethink your decision to accept a mission as much as this. 
The hydro vision you keep tucked away in your uniform should be helping to push down the pain – it has always helped. But be it the cold weather or something else entirely, your incorrigible disease seems to be flaring up more than usual. Even if you were blessed with a portion of Celestia's magic, you have been reminded from a young age that power is dangerous; and it cannot fix everything. 
However, your vision has never failed you so noticeably until now. 
The awful warmth in the back of your throat is a stark contrast to the cool tile beneath your hands. Your bunkmate is somewhere behind you, you think – she had been the one to find you, after all, clinging to a wall with a hideous mixture of blood and mucus pooling at your chin. 
You call out to her, voice weak as you attempt to stand. No response. The unknown doctor you had been led to is still silent so far, possibly making no move simply to see what you will try to do in your state. You can feel his eyes on you as you croak, 
“Has she gone?”
Something in the quiet air sparks as your voice breaks the silence. You look up begrudgingly, curious to see who you’re at the feet of even as your skin tingles painfully. You’re disappointed to find that the man’s face is obstructed by a mask that is vaguely owl-like, leaving nothing but the very corners of his lips visible. 
You don’t recognise him in the slightest, and yet, he frowns. 
Then, in his expensive slacks and in a way that surely creases his boots, the doctor kneels down to your level. Your heartbeat quickens intermittently as your eyes track his slow movements. You can’t help but be shocked by the sudden display of attention when he had clearly been resigned to only watching you before.
It’s difficult to look right at him when there are no eyes to find, so you can only look at the ground as the doctor studies you. 
You want to speak badly, to ask him to help you, but the words catch regrettably in your throat. Brows tightening, you throw a shaky hand over your mouth as a cough forces its way up. And too quickly, the blood that had pooled at the back of your throat empties into your mouth without warning, the taste instinctually pulling a whimper from you. 
A brief chuckle sounds from above you.
All you can register from that point on is a gloved hand slipping under your chin, tipping your head upwards. You attempt to shake your head in protest. Yet, all the Doctor does is wipe the blood that pebbles from your lips with a careful thumb. 
“How pitiful” The Doctor finally speaks, his rough voice thoughtful. “I’d thought you better than this.”
Your brows wrinkle in confusion as his thumb lingers near your mouth. He provides no explanation to his mysterious remark, though, merely turning your chin from side to side in an effort to look at your face in its entirety. Your chest burns with each movement.
Too helpless to do anything but stare at him, an old image slowly begins unfolding before you – though his face is covered, canine teeth are visible as he teases you. You’re almost certain that if he took off his mask, you’d be staring into the crimson eyes of someone you’d never forget.
Without thinking, you grasp at his wrist. The painful buzz solidifies between you without the barrier of a glove, but you don’t back down. 
“Zandik?” You whisper, brows creasing in concern. “How…?”
The Zandik you know is dead. This much is clear, no matter the way you look at it. But until now, you’d thought the former was undisputable. 
“You disappeared. I thought you were gone, but now you're with them?” You whisper harshly, sadness leaching into your voice.
After a few quiet moments, he drops your chin with a deep hum and pulls himself away from you. 
You crumble in on yourself and cough excess blood into your hand almost instantly, though he does nothing to help you this time. When you’ve caught your breath, he says, 
“You’ve always been one for flattery. I have never been any better than them.”
That’s not true. It’s not. You want to yell it at him, to insist until this awful cold facade of his ceases and you’re able to see the same person you’d gone to the Akademiya with. The same person who, despite having been hardened by the people that had outcased him, still flinched when insulted. The only one who would touch your hands that were inured with violet scales, and who valued your ability to forgive those who have hurt you. 
He was a person whose interest in things stemmed from his want to improve. Who’s status as an outcast came from his inability to compromise when it came to his life’s work, his desire to evolve. You found solace not in his frigid company,  but in the way your condition garnered the most intimate of his attention.
With the very same material that was enough to consider him a danger to Sumeru, he had successfully fought off the more gruesome symptoms of your Eleazar. With you, he was understood; needed. But with him, you finally felt whole. Both were things neither of you were ready to give up.
“Flattery.” Your voice is broken as you stare at the ground, body propped up by nothing but your weak forearms. “It’s so like you to insist anything good about you is false.”
A small frown is visible around the corners of his pointed mask. 
“What brings you to Snezhnaya, ___?”
“...I’m dying, Zandik.” You say quietly. He’s the first person you’ve admitted it to, even before yourself. In your student years, you’d been hopeful, confident, that your hydro vision would be enough to sustain you through a normal life. The very archon it stands for vies for equality on all fronts, between good and evil as well as sickness and health. 
But now, you know it isn’t enough. You’re old enough to look past the thin veil that has been protecting your fragile mind all these years and see the truth – that you were never meant for a long life. 
“What a headache.” He sighs it out placidly. You can’t find it in yourself to meet his eye as he kneels before you once again, every ounce of love he had once felt for you gone, yet somehow seeping from the cracks of his resolve all the same.  
You fully prepare yourself for the inevitable result of being told to leave, to seek refuge with a real doctor and not test fate in his hands. But, he doesn’t. Instead, a gloved hand reaches for your shoulder, pushing you up your knees. Your muscles sting with over-exertion as the cloud of hair leaves your face.
“How long have you been aware?”
Your back aches as you wipe the blood from your lips.
“A couple weeks.” You answer quietly, your words like a ghost in the frigid winter air. 
Dottore doesn’t answer immediately, a frown etched into his face permanently. Your breath catches as he reaches into his pristine white jacket. Gingerly, he wipes the blood from your lips with the steady hands of a surgeon. The action is not necessarily cold, but it is not full of the same warmth you remember either.
His voice is guttural when he says, “You’re foolish for coming here.” for coming to me. 
You want to laugh, to half-heartedly agree with him. You aren’t sure that you would have let your bunkmate bring you here if you knew that this was the fate you were going to meet. Of all the people in the world, Dottore is the only person who would be able to call you on your bluffs – on all of the reasons you’re here, and every reason the Akademiya has to value you. 
You could become nothing very quickly, as soon as he wishes. 
But, there's something inside you that wrestles with the fear -- something soft and carefully hidden that refuses to leave this revelation, this reunion, behind.
And so, you force out a soft, “I know.”
You both know his harsh words don’t hold any real meaning. After all, the fearsome Harbinger is equal to you in this moment, on his knees just as you are. And if nothing else, it gives you hope that things are not as lost as they seem.
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tartagilicious 2023
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tsukishumai · 1 year
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Love Galore
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pairing: kuroo tetsuro x f!reader x bokuto koutsro
chapter summary: an introspective view of the story's events from the beginning — through the eyes of Akaashi Keiji
wc: 19.2k+ [jfc i really am so sorry]
a/n: thank you to those that have stuck by me and this story, despite my hiatus. i truly appreciate every single person that's ever read a single word of LG, or left lovely messages/comments, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much. i worked on this chapter, little by little every day, and i promise i never stopped thinking about you guys. i kept thinking it was done, but apparently i had a lot to say haha. this still isn't the end, but please enjoy the chapter, i've worked really hard on it and i hope you like it :) your love and support mean the world to me, xoxo
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chapter 14 ✧ souffle pancakes
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Akaashi doesn’t say much, but he sees it all. 
It was a habit that he’s had for as long as he could remember, practically born with. Practically second nature, it seems, for him to keep a keen and sharp eye on his surroundings, making mental notes until it’s all piled up and cluttered into his brain. He’s been called many things in his short life. Observant. Perspective. Attentive. Psychic. Genius. Creepy. 
Akaashi prefers to just be called Keiji. 
Most of the time, he thinks it’s a blessing.  
When he was younger, he’d impress all the old ladies in his neighborhood with his mindless comments.
Have you lost weight?
That’s a new jacket isn’t it, oba-san?
Oh, that must be a different perfume you’re wearing today.
Comments that sounded adorable coming from a child, when all the others in his age range could barely notice if they were even wearing matching shoes. 
Sometimes, he’s thankful. It was what got him so far in the sport he loved, after all. His ability to see things others usually just brush to the side — how an opponent grits his teeth and flexes his jaw right before he jumps up for the spike, or the directions their eyes tend to flicker to right before they pass the ball. How the twitch of their lip meant anger and annoyance, or the restless running around the court showing impatience. 
Akaashi sees it all – each bit of information sorted into the compartments in his mind, saving it for when he needs to make his move. This wasn’t something inherent – it was a skill he only learned with time, through trials and errors until his mind became a well-oiled machine. Eventually, it’d become difficult for anyone to escape the sharpness of Akaashi’s eyes, and it’s a skill he’s always used to his own benefit. 
If that player’s angry, it will be easy to bait him. If he’s impatient, then it’s just a matter of time before he makes a mistake. And Akaashi will be right there waiting. 
It was easily applicable outside of the court as well.
In the hallways of school, he’d learned to ignore the giggles and whispers in his wake. Making friends was simple, almost effortless. An off-handed comment about someone’s new haircut, bringing his classmates snacks and drinks as if he had just accidentally bought too much at the convenience store – not a single person thinking twice at the fact that he’d miraculously gotten all their favorites. 
Akaashi was the guy that would notice if you were wearing different nail polish, or if the charms on your backpack were different, would note if you’ve started a new sport or were talking about that new drama just a little bit more often – and he’d say a something that could be compliment, with only a few words at best, but it was enough for you to note that he was paying attention. 
In his second year of junior high, he’d even become quite the hot topic among the girls in his class, because somehow he could always tell who had a crush on who. They’d flock around his desk like vultures, picking at whatever bits and scraps they could get from his carcass until he had no choice but to throw them a bone. 
If you get this bread for Yagi-kun, he’ll really like it. 
Arakawa-san told me he likes girls with short hair. 
Toku-san studies in the library on Wednesdays, you should bring him a drink.
The boys would try to act like they’re not interested in the commotion that always seemed to surround Akaashi. Gossip? That’s for the girls – not something for boys to partake in. But it was only a matter of time before they’d come running to Akaashi for a “psychic reading”, never wanting to admit that all they really wanted was a bit of guidance. 
They’d come running back to him, tittering and snickering whenever his advice would work. Suddenly, he was seen as a genius, a guru – as much as any preteen boy could actually be.
It was easy, really – a person’s body language can often tell you much more than words could ever manage to say, and Akaashi had always been an avid reader. He’d try to tell them as much, try to teach his friends what to look for and where, but alas the ability had still been dubbed a ‘gift’.
But sometimes, it can be a curse. 
For a long while, there were only two kinds of people in Akaashi’s life: those that wanted to use him for his talents, and those that seemed to resent him for it. 
It was actually comical how fast it is for some to turn their backs. Flipping around on him like a switch, taking all the brightness with them and leaving Akaashi alone in the dark. 
He had learned – the hard way – that most people actually quite hated the notion of being perceived. It strikes them with a sense of anxiety that was unfamiliar – not exactly fear, but something akin to uneasiness. The constant feeling of eyes on your back was enough to drive anyone crazy, even more so when you’re meant to be somewhere safe. 
It’s not as if Akaashi was doing it on purpose. Sometimes, he wasn’t even aware he was doing anything at all. He wasn’t watching anyone specifically, but was it his fault if certain things caught his attention? Was it wrong for him to be observant of his surroundings? His classmates were part of his environment, it was only natural for them to be part of his observations as well. It was nothing personal, it was just a habit.
It was difficult to explain as such when a boy from his class called him a stalker for knowing he was in the soccer club, because how else could Akaashi have known? He hardly knew Akaashi. Even though Akaashi pointed out the grass stains on his socks and the pair of cleats peeking out of his bag, the boy still threatened Akaashi to stay far away. 
It was even harder for him to calm the angry girl from two classes over – the one that happened to always eat at the lunch table next to his in the cafeteria. He froze when she stormed up to him, tossing a baby blue hair clip on his table. Steam was billowing out from her eyes, saying she’d only ever spoken a grand total of six words to him, so how the hell does he know her favorite color? Never mind the fact that her earrings, her phone case, her jacket, her thermos, and her bento are all that same color. It was an educated guess, one that was clearly correct if her angry reaction was enough to go by. 
It was frustrating, honestly. Did she even know how pathetic his own classmate looked, sniffing around Akaashi and asking how he should approach the cute girl from class 2-C? Was it really wrong for Akaashi to suggest getting her a hair clip in the same color? What difference did it make whether he figured out random stuff about her or not? 
But the scowl she threw in his direction had almost successfully masked the panic that swept through her eyes. But Akaashi had seen it. 
She was afraid. Of him.
She had called him names then, names he had heard before. Weirdo. Stalker. Creep. Names that never bothered him in the past, but coupled with the look of fright on this girl's face – whose favorite color he knew, but name remained foreign – all of it sounded much harsher than he ever remembered. Especially when she dumped the rest of her milk on the top of his head. 
After that incident, there was a sort of shift in public opinion on Akaashi. The whispers that followed him down the hall no longer mingled with soft giggles and smiles. They were whispers behind narrowed eyes and scowling faces, disapproving frowns upon any lips that would say his name.
Some friends stood by his side, half-heartedly defending him in a way that told him they didn’t actually care – they just wanted to stay on his good side. Nosy busybodies that only shielded him from the wary stares so they could keep asking him for his advice on whether he thought Dairiki-kun like girls with bangs or without.
It was one of the few times Akaashi had really, truly felt pathetic. His life was sitting in the sweaty palms of his peers, and a single wrong move will have him crushed by their grubby little fingers. It was infuriating, suffocating – having to think twice, thrice, four times before Akaashi could even say a single word. 
But they had already decided on the box they would put Akaashi in, and he could do nothing more than sit still. Sit still and ignore the sneers and scowls from people that he used to call friends. Stay quiet when the boys of his class would shove him around the halls calling him freak. Look the other way when he’d come back to his desk and his things were destroyed. Ignore the pang in his chest when he ate his lunches alone in the library. 
At the turn of his adolescence – his first year of high school – Akaashi decided that things needed to change. 
Fukurodani Academy was a different setting – different classes, different halls, different people.
He would be a different Akaashi Keiji. No longer putting himself out there, or offering his observations to anyone who would listen. He would just keep to himself, and not let anyone close enough to contain him again.
Then he met Bokuto Kotaro. 
The boy was simplistic in nature. Kind and bright, with a horde of people that always followed him around wherever he went. Dozens of eyes constantly tracked his every move without fail, and Bokuto happened to be the type of person that thrived in such an environment. Though, despite being interested in the same sport, Akaashi never felt the need to become a part of his entourage. He was exactly the kind of guy Akaashi wanted – needed –  to avoid. 
But some things are simply not up to him. Each morning, he managed to mask the slight surprise on his face each time he walked into the volleyball team’s gym, and found that Bokuto was already there. And had probably been there for who knows how long. When Akaashi joined this team, he fully expected to always be the first to show up, and last to leave the gym each day, just as it was at his previous school. 
Yet, there Bokuto was, every morning without fail, nothing but his grunts and the echoes of the ball spiking on the ground filling the gym. Every morning, he’d greet Akaashi with too much energy, the corners of his lips never dropping despite the fact that Akaashi never responded with anything other than a silent nod. 
For a little while, that was all they had. A silent agreement to work together on the sport they loved, to be a team on the court, and strictly teammates off of it. Nothing more, nothing less. Bokuto continued being his charming self, scoring victories and basking in adoration as he was wont to do. Akaashi stood content to the side, satisfied with the joy of knowing his serves were in the capable hands of such an ace. 
Akaashi should have known that it was only a matter of time until Bokuto would flip everything around. 
They had been alone in the gym for at least an hour at that time, while the rest of Fukurodani Volleyball Club had gone home at an actual reasonable hour. The sun was already slipping past the horizon, taking with it the last tendrils of the day’s light. Bokuto had begged Akaashi to stay a little longer and help with his spikes, as usual. And Akaashi was quick to agree, as usual. 
What was unusual was the way Bokuto kept glancing at Akaashi from the corner of his eye, and Akaashi wanted to laugh at Bokuto’s pathetic excuse of being discreet.
“What is it?” Akaashi asked, uncharacteristically breaking the silence. 
Bokuto jumped, startled that Akaashi noticed him watching. It took a second for Bokuto to gather himself, absentmindedly bouncing the volleyball on the gleaming gym floor, face scrunched in a way that Akaashi had only seen while Bokuto was on the court.
“I wanted to ask you something,” Bokuto opened with those words, bouncing the ball one last time before catching it tightly in his hands. Akaashi’s silence was the only indicator of an agreement, and Bokuto took this as his cue to continue. 
“Why do you hold back?” 
There were many things Akaashi thought Bokuto might have asked. This one wasn’t even really on the list. Akaashi had forgotten what it felt like to be caught so off guard, unable to do anything but stand stupidly as his mind buffered. Bokuto’s pupils moved imperceptibly quickly, raking themselves all over Akaashi. 
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Akaashi replied carefully, his shoulders rigid, nervously clasping his hands in front of him.
Bokuto frowned a little deeper, resting the volleyball now between his arm and his hip. “You don’t have to lie, Akaashi. I can tell you’re not… I see how you watch everything, but you always catch yourself before doing anything. It’s like you’re scared or… or – I don’t know! But you are, you’re holding back! I can just tell.”
It took all of Akaashi’s willpower not to let his jaw hang loose, only allowing himself to blink slowly. He dug through his mind, searching through every crevice for any memory of someone being able to read him like this. He went out of his way to be invisible, yet the overly cheerful, happy go lucky, sunshine ace of the volleyball team had somehow managed to still see right through him. 
“So why?” Bokuto prodded again, and his tone could easily be confused as haughty, but Akaashi knew better. Akaashi continues to study Bokuto, the poor boy fidgeting under Akaashi’s frigid stare. But he doesn’t move, doesn’t back away. His weight shifted from one foot to the other, but he still waited for an answer
“It’s a long story,” Akaashi said quietly, turning around to walk towards the volleyball cart. 
He hoped that would be the end of it, that Bokuto would take the hint and leave him alone. But before he could take more than three steps toward the cart, it clattered loudly and rolled away with the momentum of the volleyball that just landed into it from across the gym. 
Akaashi turns back to Bokuto, a single eyebrow raised incredulously at Bokuto’s now empty hands. A corner of Bokuto’s mouth lifts devilishly, and he offers Akaashi nothing but a shrug of his shoulders.
“I’ve got a bit of time,” Bokuto rests his hands on his hips, shifting all his weight onto one leg. Akaashi wanted to laugh, wanted to cry, and wanted to ask Bokuto why he even cared. He was happy with how things were right now, and there was no need for him to do anything drastic. 
Even as the thought passed through his mind, Akaashi could feel no truth behind it. And one look at Bokuto told him that he was not winning this round. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, and heaved out a sigh.
“If I don’t hold myself back, then people tend to get intimidated,” Akaashi offered, and that was as much as he was willing to expand on at this moment. “And when people are scared of you… that’s when you find out how nasty they can actually be.” 
“So what? You’re scared?” Bokuto asked, and Akaashi scoffed because of course he wouldn’t understand. Everyone loved Bokuto, and even those that didn’t still held some sort of respect for him. He was the ace of the volleyball team, and he was the school’s heartthrob. What the hell would he know about being shunned and isolated?
Akaashi opened his mouth to say something snarky, the words burning up his throat and on to the tip of his tongue. Except when his lips parted, it wasn’t his voice that came out.
“If you hold yourself back because of random, faceless people, then aren’t you letting them win?” Bokuto interrupted Akaashi before he could speak, as if he knew that if he let the setter say whatever he was about to say, then the conversation would take a dive into the worst. “I hate losing, Akaashi.”
“What does me losing have anything to do with you?” Akaashi asked.
“Because we’re partners now. I got your back, and if you lose, I lose,” Bokuto smiled this time, and Akaashi’s chest felt a little bit lighter, “Like I said, I hate losing. So don’t make me into a loser, okay? Or it’s gonna be a problem.”
Bokuto brushes past Akaashi as he finishes speaking, hands resting on the back of his head as he walks the distance across the gym and to the volleyball cart. Akaashi’s eyes followed him in awe, a sudden fluttering in his heart and stomach as the ace digs out a new volleyball and bounces it twice onto the hardwood floors.
“We’ve only done eighty serves,” Bokuto changes the topic seamlessly, continuing on as if he hadn’t rendered Akaashi speechless, “We gotta do at least twenty more before Yamiji-san comes back to kick us out.” 
Akaashi felt his feet move, his arms positioning themselves to receive, his body running around the gym until sweat dripped on the floor all around him. But his thoughts were elsewhere, plagued with memories of a past that had apparently silenced him into a pathetic existence. He’d thought this path would be better, make him feel like he belonged.
Maybe for a while, he convinced himself that it did, satisfied with existing as a shadow on the wall. He hadn’t anticipated Fukurodani's golden-eyed Adonis to shatter the illusion with so much ease, Akaashi wonders how he ever fooled himself into believing it in the first place. 
They didn’t say a single word to each other for the rest of their practice. Or on the walk home. Or at morning practice the next day. Bokuto didn’t speak to Akaashi until the middle of their afternoon practice, when Akaashi had received every single one of Konoha’s spikes and gave Bokuto elegant, risky serves that had everyone on the other side of the net scrambling on their feet. 
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Bokuto exclaimed while pumping his fist, giving Akaashi a pat on the back that made the setter jerk forward two steps, “Keep that up, Akaashi!”
Akaashi rubbed the back of his neck, tilting his head slightly to the side. That’s when he noticed the thumbs up Bokuto had thrown you from across the court, and the relieved smile you returned as you flipped the numbers on the scoreboard. You and Bokuto held each other’s gazes for a moment longer, and Akaashi felt like he’d eavesdropped on an entire conversation. 
You shivered slightly when Bokuto broke away, as if Akaashi’s icy stare washed over your entire body. Then you turned your head unnaturally quick and met Akaashi’s stare dead on, making him jolt. You offered him a small wave and half a grin, but before he could respond, Bokuto was dragging him back into the game. 
After practice, Akaashi found Bokuto waiting for him by the gates of the school. He flew into an immediate tirade about the bad grade he got on his exam, and how the cafeteria ran out of katsu before he could get there. You showed up in the middle of Bokuro’s story, and the three of you started walking in sync towards the direction of Akaashi’s house, your voice mingling with Bokuto’s as you offered your own tidbits of the day. Akaashi didn’t question how you both knew where he lived, or why he was suddenly flanked by the two chattiest students in Fukurodani. But if Akaashi had known that was how it would all begin, then he might have cherished that moment a little bit more. 
He never really spoke to you during his initial months in the club, which isn’t saying much as he didn’t speak to anyone. You were nice enough – always asked him how he was doing, berating the older ones whenever they’d give him a hard time, giving him reassuring smiles whenever he got scolded for messing up. The perfect example of a manager; your only fault being the nonsensical hearts in your eyes whenever they happened to land on Bokuto. 
You tried to hide it desperately, but there was no hiding the affection in your smiles whenever they were directed toward Bokuto. It was obvious, painfully so, and it bewildered Akaashi that Bokuto still had not noticed. He can at least assume Yukie and Kaori knew, if the worried glances they threw at each other behind your back were of any indication. But if they or anyone else on the team were aware of your feelings, they respected your efforts enough to keep their thoughts to themselves. 
He couldn’t blame you, not in the slightest. Not when Akaashi’s own heart skipped a beat or two during the night of that initial confrontation, and suddenly he himself was enamored by the ace – wanted to give him the best serves, set up the best plays, win him all the games. When Bokuto was on the court, then it was natural law of the universe for Akaashi to use every skill in his arsenal to make sure he shines. Akaashi did not choose for it to be this way, it simply is.
Perhaps that was how it was for you as well, Akaashi thought. Sometimes, the most painful part about love is having no choice, the complete loss of control. Akaashi could see it; the groan after each stolen glance, shaking him off when his hug made your face too hot,  how you would slap your cheeks whenever you caught yourself staring, like a desperate attempt to break yourself out of some wretched spell.
If Akaashi was being honest, he hated seeing you that way. It didn’t take long for you to become someone precious to him, maybe even quicker than it took for Bokuto. Bokuto infuriated Akaashi as easily as he amazed him, each day a toss up on whether he admired him or wanted to strangle him.
But you brought Akaashi comfort, and a sense of understanding he’d never experienced from a friend. Sure, technically it was your job to assist the team, but he could tell that everything you did truly came from your heart. You were kind and selfless, the type of person that would give someone the very shirt off your back but still spit venom at anyone that spoke ill of your friends. 
To have you in his corner, Akaashi couldn’t even begin to explain how much it saved him. He’d been drowning in the middle of an ocean, nearly overpowered by turbulent waves when Bokuto had given him a boat, and you’d given him an oar. As long as he remained with the two of you, then Akaashi thought he could get himself through it all. 
So whenever he would watch you watch Bokuto flex his muscles to the girls cheering in the stands during a game, watch you gripping your clipboard so hard your knuckles turned white, he may feel... a little bit more than annoyed. And whenever Bokuto would then openly flirt with some of those girls after the game, Akaashi could admit that he might even feel a little bit upset.
Because how could he not see the way you look at him, how you smile when he says your name, how you trail after him like a lovesick puppy? At this point, Akaashi’s been friends with the two of you for months, won and lost countless games, gone to training camps, spent more time with each other than with your own families. And the entire time, Akaashi had to work very hard to act like he didn’t notice your feelings. How could Bokuto still be so ignorant? 
It really bothered him a lot more than he cared to admit, and it surprised him. Akaashi never expected to care about you the way he does, but there it was. Maybe it was this comfortable closeness between you that propelled Akaashi to act so boldly, in a way he couldn’t bring himself to in a long time. 
At the end of one of these unsavory games, while Bokuto busied himself with trying to get the number of a cheerleader in the stand, Akaashi scanned the court for a second, stopping only when his eyes landed on you. You were comparing your notes with the coach, and Akaashi waited until you finished speaking and Yamiji-san stalked off to scold someone else before he approached. 
“Keiji! There you are, I wanted to talk to about your receives in the first set, you –”
“Are you ever going to tell him?” Akaashi asked, not even registering what you were saying. You might have been irritated at his interruption if you hadn’t been confused by the seemingly random question he just threw at your face.
“What? Tell who what?” 
“Bokuto,” Akaashi crossed his arms and straightened his back, “Are you ever going to tell him how you feel?”
You blinked at him once, the only indication that you heard what Akaashi said. He stood facing you, and the seconds seemed to stretch as you did nothing but stare back. The cacophony of sounds that usually bounced along the walls of the gym suddenly sounded muffled and dull. Your lips twitched slightly before they spread into a rehearsed grin, your face slipping easily into a mask of casual indifference.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Keiji,” you answered him softly, shaking your head. 
“Come on, Y/N,” Akaashi groaned, “You know exactly –”
“No, I really don’t,” you said almost pleadingly, your eyes darting around the gym, a mixture of sadness and relief in them when you see Bokuto still showing off to the girls that descended from the bleachers. You look back at Akaashi, brows furrowed as you said, “I don’t know what would make you even think that. Bokuto’s my best friend – that’s it. God, Akaashi, you should really be careful about what you say. If someone heard you, they might have gotten the wrong idea.”
You shot him another hard look – almost a glare, and one that he could read very well, that told him you knew he knew you were lying, that said please, just play along – before you made an excuse of gathering up all the other players for the bus back to school. 
Akaashi’s feet felt stuck to the ground, an achingly familiar helplessness sluicing through him as you walked away. He couldn’t even bring himself to move until Bokuto threw an arm around his shoulder to drag him out, finally done with his flirting and ready to go home. 
You were already seated on the bus when Bokuto and Akaashi finally deigned to board. The seat beside you was occupied by a chattering Yukie, who refused to move despite Bokuto’s complaints of always being the one that sits next to you. You laughed sheepishly and yelled claims of ‘manager bonding’ and doing everything you could to avoid meeting Akaashi’s eye. 
That was the tone of your relationship for the next few weeks. An awkward tension that no one else seemed to notice but you and him. You didn’t treat him any differently – you still greeted him with a smile, walked home together everyday, still messed with him during practice. You still asked him about his day, and told him about yours and Akaashi almost could have convinced himself that nothing was wrong. 
But everything you did started to feel like an act. Disingenuous, like a robot following a set program. You stopped sitting next to Bokuto at lunch, started walking to classes with your other friends instead. Your eyes started flicking to Akaashi whenever you felt you laughed too loudly at Bokuto’s jokes, and you latched yourself to the other players, throwing everyone off kilter. 
You were going out of your way to prove a point that only Akaashi could understand, and even when Bokuto himself had pointed out your strange behavior, you simply brushed him off. There was a sense of insecurity that Akaashi knew he instilled in your actions, and it brought a twinge of regret that he never wanted to feel when it came to you. 
Akaashi had been pouring over how to remedy the situation for days when an olive branch came in the form of Bokuto’s new girlfriend. 
She was a girl from another school, and he met her after one of their games. She came over to their side of the court and congratulated Bokuto for thoroughly defeating her team. She was very pretty and he liked her smile, so Bokuto had asked her out, and she was very quick to say yes. She was waiting for him one day after practicing, standing patiently at the entrance gates with a bag of homemade cookies in her hand. 
Bokuto was so excited as he ran out of the gym to meet her, sparing one minute to ask Akaashi to let you know where he’d gone. Akaashi supposed it was a little comforting to know that Bokuto genuinely cared about you, even if it was encased with his own selfishness. 
Akaashi waited until the rest of the volleyball club had emptied the gym before he made his way into the equipment room. He could hear your sniffling before he even opened the door, his heart slowly crumbling when he walked in on you crouched behind the volleyball cart. 
You sat on the floor, hugging your knees to your chest. Your forehead rested against your knees, and your quiet sobs filled the tiny room. You didn’t bother to look up as Akaashi approached, and fought his own tears as your shoulders shook with every breath. 
He kneeled in front of you quietly, silently debating with himself before he placed a tender hand on your shoulder. You continued to cry, taking uneven, shaky breaths. You didn’t move from your position, and Akaashi briefly wondered if you’d even registered his presence. 
“Did he leave?” You asked suddenly, voice thick and hoarse.
“Yes,” Akaashi answered. 
Slowly, you lifted your head to face him. Your eyes were puffed and swollen, eyes rimmed with red and cheeks stained with tears. Snot dribbled down your nose disgracefully, and there was a sorry attempt on your part to wipe away the evidence of your heartbreak. The sleeves you’d worn your heart on were now soaked with salty tears, and you couldn’t control the tremble of your lips. 
Akaashi didn’t know what else to do other than wrap his arms around you. The position was awkward and he’s pretty sure he’d actually never hugged you before. He felt you stiffen for a second, almost making him pull back. But then you buried your face into the crook of his neck and cried. Akaashi could feel his shirt begin to soak, but he pulled you tighter against him. 
He had no idea how long he held you for, but he stayed there in that smelly old equipment room and he held you until his knees ached and you had no more tears left to give. 
Neither of you spoke once you were done, giving him a sad smile as you pulled away. He didn’t offer one back, but he helped you up to your feet and kept an arm around your shoulder as you both walked out silently. Akaashi knew there was nothing he could say to soothe the pain, and you didn’t look like you wanted to say a single word about it anyway. 
He simply walked home with you as usual, taking the long way around to ensure you both end up walking by your favorite takoyaki stand. He spent the money he was saving in his wallet for a rainy day, and bought you all the food you could eat. He had even gotten your favorite popsicle from the convenience store by your house, and though you still remained silent, he was happy to see you eat everything he gave you. 
By the time Akaashi dropped you off at your front door, the tears were long gone and the moon was high in the sky. You turned to Akaashi, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you tried to find the words. Akaashi smiled to himself, and reached out to pat his hand lightly on the top of your head.
“It’ll be okay,” he said, hoping you’d believe him. The lonely smile you gave him tells him you don’t, but you hug each other one last time anyway before saying your goodbyes.
Akaashi remembered the first time you and Bokuto successfully broke through his brick walls. Broke might have been too gentle of a word for it though – smashed through might be better. It was at the start of his second season with Fukurodani, and he was still riding the high of an amazing first year. He was ready for an even better year, ready to try out his new skills at the first practice match Yamiji-san had arranged with a school the team had never played with before. 
Then a familiar voice called his name from the other side of the court. A few familiar faces from a life he was desperate to forget peered at him through the net, chuckling and laughing and asking him where the hell he’s been for the past year? Akaashi froze – completely and pathetically froze. It was only after six missed serves and accidentally smacking Bokuto in the back of the head with a ball did Yamiji-san finally tire of his antics and benched him for the rest of the game. 
Akaashi ran to the locker rooms as soon as practice was over. He didn’t acknowledge his old classmates, didn’t even pretend to be polite or engage in empty pleasantries. Instead, he hid in one of the shower stalls until the rest of the team left and he was absolutely sure there would be no one left to see him leave. 
But when he exited the stall, there you were. Standing next to Bokuto in a locker room he was absolutely sure you weren’t allowed to be in, with your hands on your hip and brows etched in concern. The two of you cornered him, and barricaded him until he fessed up about what the hell just happened on that court. Akaashi was a resilient man, but even he could do nothing against you two. 
So he told you everything – from his ‘guru’ days to the milk dumping incident to the isolation and bullying – everything. He didn’t stop speaking for what felt like hours, but neither you nor Bokuto interrupted him once, allowing him to regurgitate everything he’d been holding in for years. 
When he was done, he wasn’t sure what he expected. Pity, or sympathy or something like that. But, no. Instead, when he looked at the faces of his two best friends, all he saw was anger. Clenched fists, tight jaws, fire burning in eyes – anger. And it made him happy. Whatever happened in his past didn’t matter, because here, he had two people who were willing to get angry on his behalf. 
He thought he couldn’t get any closer to you than he was at that moment. But he was wrong.
Walking away from your doorstep, Akaashi knew the bond between the two of you was solidified after this – having already seen each other at your worst, taking turns being each other’s salvation. You become more than his friend, you were his sister. Sister in pain, sister in darkness, sister in light. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for you, and you for him. 
Thinking back, the sobbing was probably a bit of an overreaction. A little dramatic considering Bokuto had broken up with that girl not even three weeks later. He was crying and moaning about it for about ten minutes until you promised to take him to his favorite yakiniku spot, and he never thought about that girl again. 
Things would go back to normal for a little while – the three of you acting as reckless teenagers do when they had free reign over the streets of Tokyo. Sitting in cafes sharing one drink for four hours, getting scolded by the coach for staying in the gym too long, laughing and arguing over the most ridiculous reasons that Bokuto turned emo. 
Until Bokuto meets his next girlfriend. Then your heart breaks into a million pieces, and Akaashi tries to hold you together. Then Bokuto breaks up with his girlfriend, and comes running back with crocodile tears in his eyes. You’d catch him again with open arms, and things are alright for a little while until the ugly cycle starts over again. 
Akaashi tried not to let himself wonder why you allowed yourself to accept this – allow Bokuto to put you through it over and over again. He told himself that he didn’t really care, it wasn’t any of his business. Whether you told Bokuto your true feelings or not was your prerogative, and Akaashi wouldn’t do anything but respect your decisions. Even if the decision seemed borderline masochistic. 
Akaashi is forced to simply brush off his irritation at his best friend, because Bokuto was so painfully unaware of what he’d been doing. And if Bokuto was too stupid to see what was right in front of his eyes, then Akaashi was not interested in being the one to enlighten him. 
Ultimately, Akaashi does what he does best – keep his mouth shut and his thoughts to himself. He would listen to every single complaint Bokuto would have about his girlfriends, but he never dared offer his own opinions. He allowed you to drag him to whatever random activity would keep your mind off your own issues, but he never outwardly acknowledged the hurt you always tried to hide. 
And as horrible it is to say, the girls never lasted very long. A month, maybe two at the most. Hardly enough time for Akaashi to memorize any names, as cruel as that sounded. Soon enough, they would complain about his training schedule, or whine about how he hangs out with his friends a bit too much, and that was all it took for Bokuto to cut it off. Bokuto’s priorities always remained the same, and that at least was something Akaashi happily gave him credit for. 
By the time college rolled around, you had even started dating. No one else had ever successfully managed to ensnare your attention for more than five minutes, but Akaashi appreciated seeing you try. Though he admits it was rather amusing to see Bokuto so fervently talk shit about any person you had even a remote interest in, and maybe a little bit more than satisfying to see Bokuto finally be the one on the other side. 
Bokuto, surprisingly, never actually brought any of his girlfriends around. He talked about them, and on occasion, he would invite them to some of his games, but that was it. It was odd, because Bokuto had always struck Akaashi as the type that wanted his partner cheering for him at every opportunity they could get, and would want to hear their voice screaming his name from the stands. But on the rare occasion he actually allowed any of them to come watch him, Bokuto was quick to usher them out of the gym before anyone could even introduce themselves.
It bewildered Akaashi to no end. Was it because he was ashamed?Akaashi’s met at least two girlfriends, and Bokuto’s gone on double dates with Konoha and Washio. Was he hiding his girlfriends from you?
Did he finally get a taste of his own medicine when he saw you kiss that guy in your psych class? Was Bokuto trying to spare you the pain? Akaashi didn’t really want to think of the implications if that statement were true. 
Well, out of sight, out of mind was a set up that worked for him very well.
And more importantly, it worked well enough for you. Worked for Bokuto as well, apparently. He didn’t want to see any of your flings, and you were better off not seeing any of his. A nauseating song and dance that only the two of you knew the steps for. Neither of you were willing to be each other's partner, satisfied to let the opportunity suspend in the air between you, yet never reaching out to take it. 
But hey, if you’re fine with it, then Akaashi could work with this. He could live with this.
That was until Hikari came along. 
Akaashi was honestly a little surprised – Hikari wasn’t typically the type of woman that Bokuto would tangle himself with. That wasn’t to say anything about her looks, or her personality – she was very much Bokuto’s type. But she had already been an essential part of at least one aspect of his life before they started dating, and it was unusual for Bokuto to allow a relationship to transpire with someone so close – the manager of his team, at that. Bokuto always dated outside the proximity of his circle; someone that went to another school, or one that he met at the gym, or sat next to him in one of his classes. 
Never anyone too close. Never anyone that would matter if he lost them. 
But apparently, Hikari was a woman on a mission. Akaashi knew it from the first time he met her, could see it in the wolfish gleam in her eyes as she watched Bokuto from across the room.
He was a little taken aback, but not all that shocked when you came home from that party, practically giving him a heart attack when you burst through the front door and stormed directly to the couch. You didn’t spare him a glance before you face planted onto the cushions, buried your face into the decorative pillows he’d spent two hours picking, and let out the most ungodly scream he’d ever heard. 
You didn’t have to tell him what happened; Akaashi could easily guess. 
“What’s wrong with you?” he still asked slowly, afraid any sudden movements might cause you to lunge. 
“I wish I knew,” your voice was muffled, not bothering to lift your head from the pillow. 
A nagging voice in his head told him he should have stayed at that party, to be your emotional support at the very least if nothing else. He mentally kicked himself, glaring at the laptop he sat in front of, and the blinking document of his unfinished part in the group project he was meant to present to his group mates in the morning. As if the assignment was responsible for his failure. 
You’d be safe if he left, he reasoned with himself. The volleyball team was full of idiots, but they were all good guys. Besides, Bokuto was there and there wasn’t a single chance in hell anything bad would happen to you while he was around. And if Bokuto was too drunk, then Kuroo at least would make sure you all got home safely.  He’d even set himself up on the dining room table so he could see you walk through the front door with his own two eyes. 
Because he had fully expected you to walk through those doors with Bokuto in tow like you’ve done dozens of times, and the fact that you arrived in the dead of night alone was enough to make Akaashi’s blood pressure rise. 
He stood from his chair and walked the few short steps to the fridge. He opened the freezer door, pushing through packets of frozen meat until he found the cream puff flavored ice cream that you had to special order online. He grabs the pint and two spoons before he makes his way to the couch. 
You didn’t move when he pushed your leg to the side, sitting on the opposite side of the sofa. You didn’t move when he nudged your calves with his knuckles and asked you to sit up before you suffocated. So he just leaned back, tossing the lid of the ice cream pint onto the coffee table before digging in. 
It’d been two bites of ice cream and one minute later when you slowly maneuver yourself to sit up. Akaashi tried to pretend not to notice you, but it was impossible when you snatched the extra spoon and the entire pint out of his hand in one fluid motion.
“Jesus, watch out for my fingers,” he mumbled, smirking at the glare you shot his way. But you only held the fake contempt until the first spoon of your favorite dessert hit your lips – then you were sighing and leaning your head against Akaashi’s shoulder.
He patted a hand on your knee, reaching over for a scoop of ice cream and chuckling when you blocked his spoon with yours. You tried to hide the ice cream from him, but his arms were long, and he easily snatched the pint back. 
“Hey!” you cried out, and Akaashi quickly conceded before you really took out a finger. 
“How’d you get home?” Akaashi asked, lifting his feet to rest them on the coffee table and leaning his head against yours.
��Kuroo walked me home,” you replied quietly.
“Good.”
Neither of you said another word as you let the quiet of the evening envelope you, not a single sound save for the occasional clashing of spoons when you both reached for another bite. He could feel you slowly ease beside him, the tension in your body melting away with each passing minute.
When the ice cream was finished, the empty pint decorated your table, along with two spoons haphazardly tossed, surrounded by splotches of melted cream that was sure to be a pain to clean. Your breathing was steady, and the time on the clock read ‘Akaashi is going to be exhausted in the morning’. 
He didn’t care, though. You hadn’t moved or spoken in a while now, and Akaashi was convinced you were already asleep. He already prepared himself to spend the night on the couch, your head on his shoulder and his body twisted in a way that was sure to make his back ache the next day. 
He was just seconds away from giving into sleep’s lovely tug when you broke the silence. 
“I saw him with…” you said, fiddling with the hem of your shirt and clearing your throat, “It was Hikari.”
Akaashi sighed, reaching a hand up to pat your head. 
“Are you okay?” he asked again, a pitiful question that he’s repeated to you countless times.
He waited for your usual answer – vehement denial that anything could be possibly wrong, an airy dismissal of his concerns, and a change in conversation so effortless, it almost makes Akaashi forget what he was saying to you in the first place.
This time, though – this time, a weighted silence followed his question, and you looped an arm around his, hugging him firmly.
“Not really,” you admitted softly. 
It was the first time Akaashi had ever heard you confess your heartache. It was always something that was unspoken, and seeing your crumpled face made Akaashi regret ever keeping things that way. He turned fully to wrap himself around you gently, and you gave yourself to his embrace. He’d only heard a sniffle or two, but he could feel the moisture slowly seeping into his t-shirt. It was a feeling that was achingly familiar. 
“Come on, now. Didn’t we say crying over boys was… I think your words were ‘so fucking embarrassing’,” Akaashi mumbled into your hair, smiling when he felt you chuckle against him. His stomach turned at the inadequacy of his words, but he had no idea what else to offer, so he simply offered himself. “I’m here for you, okay? Always.”
You pulled back for a moment to give him a watery smile. Akaashi wiped at your tear stained cheeks.
“Literally, your snot is dripping down to your mouth, and it’s disgusting.” 
Your laughter warmed Akaashi’s cheeks, smacking him on the shoulder before you stood up. You said nothing else as you stalked off into the darkness of your bedroom, not bothering to turn on any lights before shutting the door. 
A myriad of emotions swirled through Akaashi as he remained seated on the couch. Was there more that he could have said? Could have done? If he had stayed at the party, would he have been able to stop this from happening? Was it even any of his business to stop it? 
But Akaashi knows himself, and knows he would have said nothing if he saw Bokuto sneak away with Hikari. He would have done nothing except perhaps usher you to the other side of the house, using whatever means to keep you distracted. Even if he was there, all he could have done was spare you the knowledge of it – at least for one night. 
He couldn’t help but feel as if he failed you then – to be a good friend, a brother. Or maybe he’s failed you for years. You’d never see it that way, could never even fathom the notion of his failure, and somehow that thought bothers Akaashi more. 
Akaashi stood up and stalked to his own room. He shut the door and collapsed onto his bed, hatred pumping from his heart through his veins as he drifted off to sleep. 
It was that lingering hate he could still feel churning in his gut when he awoke the next morning that spurred him out of bed and scurrying into the living room. He had every intention of starting the day as a new man – one who didn’t allow his cowardice consume him, didn’t place the comfort of his wellbeing over the needs of those he loved. 
Those were the thoughts that ran through his mind, but his momentum halted instantly when he rounded the corner of the hallway, and saw you standing in the genkan. You looked like you had just rolled out of bed yourself, eyes swollen and still wearing the clothes from last night. Your hand rested on the doorknob, the front door wide open.
You turned to him as he approached, and gave him an almost pleading look. Akaashi only had to wonder why you were distressed for two seconds before Bokuto barrelled through the doorway, way too loudly and looking much too bright for the hour. 
Akaashi has seen this dance before. He’s seen it so many times, the sequence of it already playing out in his mind like a familiar melody. Bokuto comes in with a plan that sounded equal parts ridiculous and exhausting, dragging you out without even asking. Akkashi scoffed as you tried and failed to ward off Bokuto with pathetic excuses, but as usual he was having none of it. And both you and Akaashi knew better than to think you could win against Bokuto Kotaro. 
He stood aside while you flurried around the apartment like a blizzard storm, fighting the frown at how Bokuto stood in the foyer with his hands on his hips, a satisfied and smug look on his face. Bokuto turned to Akaashi as if he’d just noticed him for the first time, slapping him on the shoulder before asking, “Akaashi! Why do I feel like I didn’t even see you at all last night?”
It was an effort not to lift a hand and smack Bokuto in the back of the head right then and there. But thankfully, you came rushing out of your bedroom, hastily grabbing a pair of shoes from the genkan. You shot him one last apologetic glance, and you were out the door before he could even bid you goodbye. 
And there he stood – alone in the foyer of his own apartment, feeling like nothing more than a fly on the wall. 
A glance at the clock was the only thing that could have set him in motion, already running ten minutes later than he wanted to start his day. From the tornado named Bokuto that just passed, and the flurry in which Akaashi himself now dashed around, it seemed the apartment was destined to be chaotic. 
He was impatiently tapping his fingers on the kitchen counter, glaring at his coffee machine as if his sheer will would somehow make the brew drip faster, when there was another knock on the door. 
The day was already filled with chaos, but apparently also surprises, because the last person he expected to see on the other side of the threshold was Kuroo Tetsuro. 
The two boys blinked at each other for a second, Kuroo looking just as confused as Akaashi as to why he came to visit in the first place. Kuroo shifted his weight from one foot to the other with his hands tucked in his front pockets, offered Akaashi a nervous smile and a lukewarm attempt at small talk before finally asking if you were still asleep inside. 
Akaashi sighed as he delivered the unfortunate news that not only were you already awake, but were currently being dragged no doubt halfway across the city by none other than Kuroo’s very own roommate. 
“Do you guys not communicate or something,” Akaashi asked blandly, and Kuroo just shrugged.
“He wasn’t there when I got home last night, and he wasn’t there when I woke up this morning. What do you want from me?” 
Akaashi rolled his eyes, but he still widened the door for Kuroo to slip through, who only smiled at him sheepishly as he entered the apartment. Akaashi asked if he wanted some coffee, and Kuroo graciously accepted, slipping back into the easy, laid-back attitude that he’d always been known to wear. 
Content to leave Kuroo to his own devices, Akaashi darted back into his room to quickly change. When he emerged eight minutes later, fully clothed and his backpack dangling from his shoulder, Kuroo was filling up his thermos with coffee while Akaashi’s already sat waiting for him at the counter. 
Akaashi nodded his head in thanks, Kuroo handing him his cup as the two walked out of the apartment in tandem. He didn't say anything when Kuroo remained in step with him, chattering about his classes as they embarked on the twenty minute walk to campus. Didn’t even consider that it was a weekend, and Kuroo likely didn’t even have to head in this direction so early at all. 
Kuroo stayed with Akaashi as far as the library entrance, the latter almost entering the building before he finally had the frame of mind to wonder, “Wait, so why’d you stop by the apartment today?” Akaashi looked over his shoulder and adjusted his bag a bit higher, “Sorry, I was too distracted by… everything. Did you need something?”
Kuroo chuckled almost guiltily, a crooked smile on his lips. He rubbed at the back of his neck, looking everywhere but at Akaashi as if he was debating whether he wanted to tell him the truth. 
“Oh, ha,” Kuroo breathed out, shaking his head slightly, “No, I was just – I mean, y/n looked pretty out of it last night. And I was about to,” Kuroo cleared his throat and adjusted his shirt, “I was heading to that cafe – you know, the one in front of that seven eleven? – and I thought I’d check in to see if she was alive.”
Akaashi’s eyes softened in understanding, pressing his lips into a thin line and nodding his head once as he turned to face Kuroo fully and offered him half a smile.
“Thanks for taking her home last night, by the way,” said Akaashi, “She’s lucky you were still at the party.”
Kuroo let out a breathy laugh and shook his head. He takes a strap of his own backpack off his shoulder and flips it to the front, holding it against his chest as he hastily pulls open the zipper.
“Yeah, it was just good timing,” Kuroo replied while he continued to dig through his backpack. He eventually pulls out a few red packets and hands them to Akaashi, “Here. It’s red ginseng. I’m not sure how long you’re planning to be here, but it should help you get through the day.” 
Akaashi examined the red packets in his hand, almost pouting with appreciation to Kuroo. But when he lifted his head, Kuroo was already walking across the courtyard.
“Make sure to give one of those to y/n when you see her!” He yelled over his shoulder, waving at Akaashi one last time before taking off. 
Akaashi did eat the red ginseng, and it did help him get through the seven hours he had spent in the library that day. And he never thought twice about Kuroo’s impromptu visit to his apartment that morning, nor did he think twice about being escorted to the library despite the cafe Kuroo mentioned being on the complete opposite side of campus. 
Because that was just Kuroo – Akaashi had never known him to be any other way. The very definition of all bark no bite, the kind of man that would tease you relentlessly for a stain on your pants, then take you to a store to buy you a new pair. 
Though Kuroo may have been closer to Bokuto, Akaashi had a tremendous amount of respect for the man, and would probably even go so far as to say Kuroo was also one of his closest friends. 
And when Hikari started to prove herself a new fixture, and Bokuto’s absence became more frequent, Akaashi was appreciative of Kuroo’s steady presence – still showing up to the study sessions, and coming over to watch volleyball games on Akaashi’s “much nicer TV”, and grabbing hot ramen and a cold beer after a particularly stressful test. 
He was acting as the Kuroo Tetsuro he’d always been, and it was that semblance of normalcy that Kuroo effortlessly provided, without anyone asking him to, nor any expectations from anyone else – like a lighthouse in the middle of a raging storm, Akaashi knows it was Kuroo that brought them safely to harbor. 
Because Akaashi was waiting for it. Ever since that day you had come home from your outing with Bokuto, dragging your feet through the door, looking like someone had just ripped the world out from beneath your feet, he had been waiting. For the other shoe to drop, for the inevitable descent into madness - at least your version of it. 
He felt prepared for it in a way, felt ready. He was no longer going to pretend to believe your fake smiles and reassurances that you were fine while you locked yourself in your room days at a time, and he wasn’t going to let you throw yourself so hard into your studies that you forget to eat. 
Akaashi felt things would be different this time around. He’d make sure of it. So he waited for the moment your mask would fall, and prepared himself to catch the pieces.
But the moment never came. 
Don’t misunderstand. It’s not as if Akaashi wanted to see you have a mental breakdown for the eighth time in as many years, and he certainly didn’t want to watch you retreat into a shell of yourself as you attempt to reconcile your new reality with your broken fantasies. 
Akaashi can see it in your face sometimes, even though you try your hardest to hide it. The exhaustion beneath your red-rimmed eyes, the very slight downturn of your lips when you thought no one was paying attention, and the tiredness in your slumped shoulders, as if you’ve been carrying a mountain on your shoulders. 
Still, you always made sure to take care of everybody, and you did it for so long. Akaashi didn’t want to admit to being part of the guilty party, but he had just been as willing to take everything you gave, and believed when you said you needed nothing in return. 
It was shameful, and a little bit more than selfish, but a small part of him wanted this chance. To prove himself a worthy friend, that he could take care of the people that mattered to him the most. He almost hated himself for it, for using your suffering as an opening, but he wanted to make up for all the lost opportunities, for the pain his silence might have caused. 
It was his turn to take care of you, and he was ready to do a damn good job.
Except, you were fine. 
He was thankful, if not a little thrown off by the lack of a depressive episode. But thankful, nonetheless. 
More than thankful, though, he was curious. Bokuto was becoming increasingly absent, flaking on plans and ignoring phone calls. Akaashi had never seen him be so serious about a girl, and even he was feeling annoyed about being left in the proverbial dust. Akaashi had imagined you’d be a little more… upset.
He hadn’t noticed any particular changes. Your routine hardly deviated, aside from the occasional dinners or drinks at the bar with him and Kuroo – if you were not in class you were at work, if you weren’t at work you were home, and if you weren’t home you were in class. For a short while, Akaashi felt like he had been living with a ghost, just going through the motions until the sun set and rose again for the new day. 
Sometimes, though, he’d find you on the balcony, sitting on the matching chairs Bokuto’s sisters bought for you when the two of you had first moved in. A mug of coffee or tea would be in your hands, the liquid looking as if it had long gone cold. You wouldn’t acknowledge Akaashi whenever he’d step outside to join you. Say nothing as he sits in the vacant seat beside you, staring only out into the blinking lights of the city. 
When you were this way, Akaashi knew better than to try and bother you to speak. Your mind was eons away, in a world where Akaashi had never been and would never get to see. So he settled himself to sit beside you silently, until you were ready to climb back down from wherever you wandered off to.   
But even those days became few and far in between. 
It was something that confused him, like he’d been following a trail of crumbs laid before him, yet had no idea where it would lead him to. 
That was, until he walked up to Study room 201 for the usual Tuesday evening session. On a normal day he would simply barge into the room without a thought as to who was already in there or if they were in the middle of anything important. But there was a tug in his chest that halted him in front of the narrow, rectangular window cut-out of the sliding door. He was still as he peeked through the glass, and something clicked so loudly in his brain, his eardrums nearly burst. 
Because Study Room 201 was already a mess of textbooks and papers, prohibited snacks and drinks littered the conference table, and Kuroo Tetsuro was sitting next to you. 
You were leaning over as you read something on his laptop screen, and Kuroo slightly leaned back to give you some room. Your eyes were roving over the screen quickly, faster than any normal person should be reading. Then you frowned at something, your finger pointing at certain spots as you explained his mistakes. 
It seemed like you were ripping into Kuroo’s essay or project or whatever it was he was having you read over, your mouth running off into a seemingly endless tangent of all the things he could have done differently. If it was Akaashi in that situation, his head would probably feel so hot from how irritating your voice surely would have sounded in his ears. He might have shoved you away altogether. 
Yet, there was Kuroo Tetsuro, sitting in the seat Akaashi had only ever seen one other person sit in, staring at you as he tried but failed desperately to hide the smile on his face. You turned just as Kuroo’s smile bubbled into a chuckle, and you smacked your pen so hard on his head, Akaashi was afraid he might start bleeding. 
Kuroo’s chuckle turned into complete laughter, loud and obnoxious and infectious, it was only a matter of seconds until you dissolved into a fit of giggles yourself. 
Neither of you paid him much attention when Akaashi finally decided to open the door. In fact, it seemed as if you hadn’t noticed him at all, despite nearly slamming the door in his haste to enter. Akaashi settled into the seat across from you, as he’s always done, and a small part of him wondered if Kuroo might move back into his usual seat beside him now that Akaashi has entered the picture.
He didn’t. He simply smiled at Akaashi and asked him if he’d like a turn to criticize his work. Of course, Akaashi agreed and thoroughly enjoyed tearing down Kuroo’s perfectly good thesis if only because it made both of you laugh. 
Akaashi felt incredibly stupid for not seeing it before, and now that he has, he doesn’t understand how he could have possibly missed it. He stared at the man beside you now, sneaking grapes onto your laptop to get you to eat and wordlessly walking down the hall to fill your water bottle and filling in the seat Akaashi never braved to fill, and the revelations pour over him like a waterfall, loud and rumbling and serene all at once. 
He’s glad it was Kuroo. 
It was a little painful, though. Not a heartbreak, nor a pang of jealousy, but there was an ache that took hold in his body all the same. And he hated that selfish part of him that was hurt – wishing it was him that could have helped you heal.
But it wasn’t him, and he’s glad it was Kuroo. 
Whatever sort of pain or shame or guilt that he was torturing himself with was quickly eased away by the sound of your muffled laughter through the apartment walls during late night phone calls, the color that was beginning to return to your cheeks, and the light that had finally returned in your eyes.
In those following months, you stopped locking yourself in your room, stopped losing yourself in the city lights on that cold, empty balcony. And more than once has Akaashi come home to find you and Kuroo splayed across the living room, either giggling over something playing on the TV screen with beer cans littered across his coffee table, or sitting beside each other in comfortable silence while you both worked or studied.
One way or another, Akaashi would get roped into whatever it was you were doing with Kuroo. And he’ll complain, berate you two for wasting his time on nonsense and tomfoolery, but it was those moments that provided him with a sharp clarity, like he finally has all the pieces he needed for this puzzle. 
Akaashi may have been just a man on the outside looking in, but the picture that Kuroo had built with you – for you – was more beautiful and warm than Akaashi had ever thought to imagine. And whether you realized it or not, you now went about your days with a permanent smile on your lips and a lightness in the air about you that Akaashi had not felt in years. 
It had filled him with something he didn’t even know he had been missing, as if his lungs were finally taking their first gulp of air after so long underwater. The brightness you started to exude felt as warm and refreshing as summer’s first rays of sun, and Akaashi finally lets himself relax. 
Because Kuroo – that son of a bitch, Akaashi could kiss him in the mouth – he had taken the pieces of you that were scattered across the dirty floor, and he’s put together every single shard until you were nearly whole again. He had breathed an entirely new life into you, a mosaic of all the things you thought you couldn’t handle, brought back to make you stronger. You were almost unrecognizable. 
But people don’t change so easily, and some habits are ingrained into your bones. Akaashi could already see the beginnings of it. The self-doubt, the fear, overthinking your every word and action. Often, Akaashi felt as if he could hear your thoughts from across the room, his throat constricting as they wrapped around him like a noose. 
He didn’t want things to be the same, he told himself. Things were going to be different this time. He’d said it like a mantra over and over again, and now was the time for him to put his money where his mouth was. 
And one day, Akaashi was in the kitchen making his usual cup of coffee, you came bouncing – no, literally, you were bouncing – out of your room with just about the goofiest smile he’d ever seen on your face, and it was all the push he needed to step over the line.
He allowed himself that bit of courage, something he’d spent years shoving to the back of his mind, smothered by his own hands.
“Excited for your date?”
“It’s not a date!”
“Would it be so bad if it was?I mean look at you, you’re smiling like an idiot.” 
For one, glorious, precious second, Akaashi thought that things would finally work out. The gears started spinning your head, and even though you glared at him, Akaashi could already see a sparkle in your eye, and a hint of smile you tried to hide.
“You know what, Keiji, I’m getting sick of you –”
And it only took three knocks for everything to come toppling down. 
The not-so-serendipitous entrance of Bokuto Koutaro was usually accepted with open arms, and an exasperated sigh that wasn’t actually exasperated but a little excited to see what he’s got planned for the day.
But that day, the sight of his streaked hair made Akaashi’s stomach drop to the floor, and hearing the way he spoke to you only made Akaashi see red. 
He almost didn’t register the slam of his front door, the blood roaring in his ears too loudly for him to hear your heated exchange. He couldn’t even bring himself to feel sorry for his best friend, pouting like a child whose favorite toy was just ripped from his hand. 
Akaashi knew, deep down somewhere in a dusty corner of his heart, that Bokuto didn’t mean any harm. He might have even thought he came here with the best of intentions, that maybe he was trying to be a good friend. And maybe that’s what irritates Akaashi even more, the complete lack of self-awareness, and the obliviousness to those around him – perfectly content with staying inside his own Bokuto-powered bubble. 
Irritated, yes. Still, Akaashi couldn’t bring himself to be truly vexed. Not when Bokuto looked just as confused and distraught. Akaashi didn't know what he was thinking, or perhaps he wasn’t even thinking at all, but he couldn’t stop himself. But the worst part of it was, he didn’t want to. Because you were finally letting yourself be happy, and he wasn’t going to let Bokuto ruin it. 
“She’s finally moving on. You shouldn’t do anything to mess that up.”
“Just leave it alone, Bokuto-san. Before anyone gets hurt.”
By the time he was finished, the flames of anger Akaashi felt just moments prior had completely died, and he was left with nothing but a taste of smoke and ash on his tongue. He spoke the words a lot more calmly than he felt, a familiar sense of sympathy creeping over his heart yet again.
Because the look on Bokuto’s face was one Akaashi had seen before, but never on him. A mix of shock and confusion, topped off with a hint of anguish and regret. It looked sad enough on you, but on Bokuto, it was heartbreaking.
So he truly didn’t know. Akaashi’s not sure if it made him feel better or worse. He just knew he was finished with this game, and although he couldn’t really understand the gravity of what he’d just done, he didn’t regret it. When Bokuto silently nodded and left his apartment, he felt only relief.
There was an eerie calm that settled in the wake of Bokuto’s departure. You came back from your date-not-date with Kuroo in infinitely better spirits than when you left, back to skipping around the apartment while humming a tune only you could hear, and the morning’s debacle was already long forgotten. 
Kuroo, unsurprisingly, became quite determined to attach himself to your hip, with a new sense of comfort and a different sort of tension that Akaashi didn’t feel like addressing. It seemed the encounter with Bokuto had added fuel to more than one fire, and if Kuroo was trying to hide his feelings before, he wasn’t bothering to do so now. Akaashi’s caught the way Kuroo looks at you more than once, and it’s even given him butterflies more than he cared to admit. 
Bokuto eventually apologized, and he’d even started bringing Hikari around more. She really was a sweet girl, clearly putting in the effort to get to know Bokuto’s friends. She even desperately tried to ignore Bokuto’s longing looks at a certain blossoming couple, and Akaashi wished he had the capacity to care just a little bit more about the poor girl Bokuto dragged into the tangled web of his heart. 
Alas, he was too busy preparing for the storm.
Akaashi had always been an overthinker. It’s in his nature, something inherent in him that he could never shake no matter how hard he tried. Or it could be the result of his younger days hiding behind his fear, maybe it was something he never actually got over. Akaashi doesn’t know. He doesn’t think he knows much of anything these days. 
His useless mind was only searching for ways he could have prevented this. If he pushed you about your feelings earlier, would you have ended up with Bokuto instead of Kuroo? Would it have been the two of you laughing and dancing, pouring honey in each others’ ear in a crowded room like no one was watching? 
If not for Akaashi, would Bokuto have ever even realized you were in love with him? Were it not for him, would it have eaten away at Bokuto’s very heart until he attacked his own best friend? Akaashi should have kept his mouth shut. If he did, then maybe you might have actually allowed yourself to enjoy being with Kuroo, to let him romance you in the way he’s been aching to do, to let yourself fall in the way you’ve been afraid to for so long. 
And if he did, then maybe he wouldn’t have found Bokuto’s white-knuckled fists gripping Kuroo’s shirt in the middle of a stunned crowd, drenched in sticky alcohol and hair in disarray while you were crying in the corner. Hikari wouldn’t have been sobbing in the back of a dirty taxi, fighting the bile rising in her throat from the betrayal of the one meant to love her most.
He wouldn’t have had to drag you home, too stunned into silence to fight him. He was thankful for that, because he knows that if you had seen the look on Kuroo’s face as everyone he loved left him soaked, eyes stinging, and alone… Akaashi would have deserved that punch you’d throw in his face. 
There were a plethora of things he wished he said, things he could have done. They played through his mind like an endless reel of maybes and what ifs and would haves over and over again as if determined to drive him insane.
He’s not sure what to do now. He’s not sure if he should even do anything. He was tired, he hadn't eaten in at least twenty seven hours, and when he looked in the mirror that morning, he cringed at the deep purple color that encircled his eyes. 
The coffee maker beeped loudly, and Akaashi mindlessly grabbed his mug from the cabinet. His eyes were unfocused, relying on his muscle memory to grab the oat milk creamer from the fridge and mixing in his preferred amount of sugar. 
The morning was calm, a stark contrast from the evening before, and Akaashi’s been awake for a lot longer than he’d care to admit. He stirred his spoon in circles, watching the whorls of milk blend into inky water. This was his fourth cup. Four times he’s brewed a fresh pot, hoping to have one ready for you once you step out of your room. Four times the coffee had turned cold, and he watched it swirl against the steel of his sink as he poured it down the drain. Four times he’s walked to the counter to brew a fresh pot again. 
He winced when he took a sip, coffee burning his tongue, like one last insult to his injuries. By now, he’s already used up more than half the bag of coffee beans you brought home from work just the other day. He hated being wasteful. He hated drinking more than one cup before he could even eat his breakfast. He hated waiting for you alone with nothing but the sugar granules littering his dining table to keep him company. 
He hated the silence in his apartment. He hated the 53 missed calls on his phone from Kuroo and Bokuto. He hated that he was the one who sent Bokuto into a downward spiral. He hated every single face that did nothing but gawked with their phones out while two men – who had never so much as raised their voices at each other  – looked like they were two seconds away from ripping each other's throat out.  
He hated everything.
But he would still do it all over again. Let the fire he had unknowingly started burn their slate clean. If it means peace, if it means freedom from the cage they built around themselves… then he’d do it all over again, for his friends. 
And once it grows cold, Akaashi will brew another pitcher of coffee. He will make himself another cup. 
And he will sit in this chair, and he will wait until he sees you walking out that door. 
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The sun was nearing its peak when you finally woke up. 
You cursed yourself for forgetting to draw all your curtains last night, and you squinted against the harsh rays of sun now beating down on your face.
It was an effort to open your eyes. There was crust lining your waterline, stinging your lashes when you tried to flutter them open. Your lids still felt heavy and swollen, and you barely won the battle of keeping them open. 
Your head was throbbing, so loudly that it was the only thing you could hear. You dig into your temples with the heel of your palm, groaning as you positioned yourself to sit up. You run your hands along the rumpled sheets until your fingers hit something hard. You dig through a little more, closing your eyes and bracing yourself as you grab your phone. 
Dead. Only a black screen stared back, no matter how many times you pressed the buttons. You tossed the phone back on the mattress just as you flopped yourself back down, the both of you landing on the sheets like a useless brick.
You should probably charge the damn thing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to disturb the morning’s peace just yet. You doubt you’d find another moment of it the second you get out of this bed. 
Instead, you bury your fingers into your own hair, twisting your body around until your face is buried in your pillow, and you fight the urge to scream into it, too worried that the extra strain might actually cause you to hurl your guts out.  
Not yet. 
You burrowed even deeper into your sheets, wrapping the blankets around yourself until you were nothing more than a cocoon of self-preservation. Because you weren’t ready to face it. The betrayal you were unknowingly the center of, the years of friendship that was splintered in a matter of seconds, the broken hearts of the people you cherished the most. You weren’t ready to face any of it. Not yet.
As if the cowardly admission was some sort of key, memories began to flood through wide open gates in your head, soaking you all over again with sticky alcohol and salty tears. You tried to push it back, tried to cover yourself, like holding an umbrella in a hurricane. But the waves of memory overpowered you, knocking you off your feet each time you remembered Kuroo’s wide-eyed, vacant look as he watched Akaashi haul you away. 
Kuroo. 
Tetsuro.
Even a mere whisper of his name still sends shocks through your nerves, makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. The thought of him consumed you so easily, so wholly, like he was a blanket of calm that smothered all your raging thoughts until there was only him. Everything about him made you so dizzy, light headed and out of breath.
Every time you hear his voice, so rich and creamy, it coats all over you like something luxurious on your skin. Forcing yourself to pretend that you’re not breathing in his scent whenever he’s near, pretend that cedar and smoke and warm amber don’t haunt your dreams – it was a tremendous effort on your part to keep yourself sane, to keep yourself from free-falling into the rabbit hole that was Kuroo Tetsuro. 
But last night… You could have dreamt all you wanted about what it would be like to have him look at you with shaky breaths and dilated pupils and ask if he could kiss you, and it still wouldn’t have amounted to anything close to actually having him in front of you. It made you want to laugh almost as much as it made you want to cry, because of course Kuroo Tetsuro could make reality surpass fantasy. 
You wished the memories could have stopped there, that your night ended with the only kiss that has ever made you feel like you were in the clouds.
But fate was almost as cruel as life. 
It was difficult to explain how it felt, for everything to finally click into place while also spiraling into confusion. 
You understood with painful clarity why Hikari hated you, why she acted like you were a pebble in her shoe, and looked at you as if your very existence was an eyesore. You remembered that fight with Bokuto, and the tension that never went away even after the two of you reconciled – all the times Bokuto’s mood would plummet at the mere mention Kuroo, each time you ignored the frustrated glances he threw towards the both of you, hoping you were simply imagining things.
Because what reason could Bokuto possibly have to act that way? You thought about it over and over, and could never come up with an adequate conclusion. 
Now, your willful ignorance has finally come to pay its retribution, a sort of cosmic joke that you were sure some powers above found absolutely hilarious – because Bokuto Kotaro was in love with you. In love. With you. Has been, apparently, for … you didn’t even want to think of how long, couldn’t comprehend the implication of his confession.
A confession that you vividly remember praying for, words that your heart has longed for and ached to hear. Cried for in the silent void of your bedroom, hoped for in your fractured soul, because for so long, you waited, even just for a sliver for a chance for Bokuto to actually see you as more than a friend, more than just the overbearing manager who followed him to college. 
It almost kills you to know that he was waiting for the same thing. 
For a moment, you envisioned it. The life you could have had with Bokuto – walking around campus tucked beneath his arm, registering for classes that fit each other’s schedule, wearing his jersey when you watch his games. Maybe you would have joined the team as a manager, and there wouldn’t have been a second you wouldn’t spend together. Bokuto probably wouldn’t have even waited for the first year to end before convincing you to move in with him. The apartment would have been small, but he wouldn’t ever miss a single dinner together. 
Every morning, you’d wake up to an empty bedroom, but by the time you prepared two steaming mugs of coffee, Bokuto would have already returned from his morning run. He’d kiss you and embrace you, and you’d get ready for the day together, leave your home together, and come home together.
Grief is peppered through every thought like weeds, mourning for the time lost and each memory that never happened. It would have been a beautiful life together. It would have been filled with love, laughter, and happiness so bright, just imagining it made your eyes burn. 
The smell of fresh coffee permeated through the musty, stale air of your bedroom. You could almost see the trail of the scent wafting through the open seams of your door, snaking through the smog until it wrapped around you like a warm embrace. It beckoned you like a familiar friend, so enticing that it actually spurred you to sit back up. 
Suddenly, you felt your stomach grumble and the dryness in your mouth felt like ash, as if the smell of arabica beans was that first fallen domino that had all your issues tumbling into each other. You ignored the rush of nausea churning in your stomach that had nothing to do with the amount of alcohol you drank last night, and swung your legs over the side of your bed, feet absently shuffling against the wooden floor until they found your slippers. 
You stifled a groan as you stood, and dragged your feet across the room slowly. You snatched the thin robe you kept hung over your computer chair, and wrapped it tightly around your body, taking a deep breath as you closed your fingers around the door knob and twisted it open. 
You nearly choked on the wave of aroma that rushed at you so fast, you might have thought you were stepping into an actual roastery instead of your own living room. You half expected to see Akaashi standing over a heated pan, vigorously stirring beans until they turned brown – or however the hell one would roast coffee, you seriously had no idea. 
Instead, you found him standing in front of the coffee maker you bought for him two Christmases ago, hands on his hips and foot tapping on the floor. The machine was bubbling and hissing as the coffee dripped slowly into the pot, and the counter was an abhorrent mess that you’ve quite literally never seen Akaashi make in the entire time you’ve lived with him. 
“Did you open up some sort of… cafe in our apartment that I wasn’t aware of,” You tried to keep your voice light and playful, but the words scratched at your throat, and they came out sounding tired and rough.
Akaashi could have broken his neck with the speed he turned around, shooting an arm out to catch himself on the counter when his momentum threatened to hurtle his body too far. He regarded you with wide, tired eyes, coffee staining his shirt in four different places, and you had a strange feeling that if you reached up and tried to run your fingers through his hair, you would find a bird’s egg nestled somewhere deep within. He looked – and you were putting this nicely – like absolute shit. 
You tried to smile, and his gaze immediately softened, lips coming together into a tight line. And you regretted any previous thoughts you might have had about the malnourished vibe he was putting down., because the pathetic way he looked at you definitely said that you looked about a million times worse. 
“I thought I’d give it a try,” he said softly, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter, “It can’t be that hard, can it? Especially with an experienced barista in the vicinity.”
You clicked your tongue, and gave Akaashi a mocking glare, “You wouldn’t be able to afford my skills and services.”
Akaashi brought a finger up to his lip in faux-thought, and you felt your heart flutter when he opened his arms wide, “I can pay with warm, comforting, and gentle embraces?”
You shook your head, and your slippers slapped against the wooden floor as you hurriedly made your way across the room and crashed into Akaashi’s arms.
“Can’t you be normal and just call it a hug?” Your voice was muffled against his chest, “Who the hell calls it an embrace these days?”
He pulled you against him even tighter, “Literary geniuses, that’s who.”
A chuckle softly escaped from your lips and vibrated against Akaashi’s chest, and it felt like a tether had been snapped. Even more giggles tumbled out, and the fact that Akaashi was not laughing somehow made it even more funnier – made what funnier, you actually had no idea, though at this point you could hear how unhinged your laughter actually sounded. But you couldn’t hold it back, and you laughed until your belly ached, and tears formed on the corners of your eyes. 
You laughed until the laughter felt like acid burning up your throat, and the tightness of it made it difficult to breathe. The tears that pooled in your eyes now flowed freely down your cheeks, and there was no stopping it then, not when you choked out a sob, clutched at the fabric of Akaashi’s shirt and cried. While Akaashi rested one hand on the back of your head, and stroked small circles around your back with the other, you wept and you cried. Cried and cried and cried. 
Whatever restraint you’d been keeping against your heart was undone by the strength of Akaashi’s arms around you, and knowing that he was there to hold you together… it was enough to have you falling apart.
You don’t know how long the two of you stood in that kitchen for. It could have been a few minutes. It could have been a few hours. Akaashi didn’t falter, didn’t move a single inch. Through each shuddering sob, every heaving gasp for air, Akaashi had stayed. He waited until the shaking subsided, and your breathing evened out, and there was not a single tear left to cry. 
You weren’t sure how much time had passed before you peeled yourself away from his embrace, wiping your entire face with the sleeve of your robe. You backed another step, and Akaashi met your swollen, red eyes with his own sunken, tired ones. He tried to smile at you, and tried extremely hard to seem like he wasn’t uncomfortable in his soaked shirt.
“Go change out of that thing,” you said by way of apology, cringing at the mess you’d left behind, “Please.”
For a second, you thought Akaashi might have argued with you. But then his eyes switched from you to the hallway then back again, before he nodded and darted to the direction of his bedroom. You breathed out a laugh and walked to the counter, grabbing a towel from beside the sink and wiping away the coffee grounds that dirtied your usually-immaculate kitchen. 
You were sweeping up the stray flecks that littered the floor when Akaashi came barrelling back into the kitchen. Before he said a single word, he snatched the broom violently from your hand.
“Hey, I was –”
You couldn’t finish your sentence, not when Akaashi practically shoves you into a seat at the dining table. 
“Stay,” he pointed a finger at you, and you quickly swallowed back the snarky comment you were prepared to throw out. Your eyes just silently followed Akaashi as he fussed around the kitchen, mopping the rest of the floor and shaking his head at you when he realized you’d already cleaned the counters. 
He grabbed your favorite mug – drying on the dish rack like it had just been washed after use – then turned to make you a cup of coffee. But when he touched the top of his fingers to the glass body of the pitcher, he frowned. Deeply. 
“What’s wrong?” you asked.
“The coffee got cold again,” he grumbled, making you shoot out of your seat and scramble towards him when he yanked the decanter off the hot plate and headed to the sink.
“Stop!” you practically screeched, just barely making it in time to grip his wrist before he could fully pour the contents down the drain. “What the hell are you doing?” 
Akaashi just stared. “It’s cold now.”
“So?!” you looked at him like the roles have now been completely reversed, “We can just microwave it or something. You don’t need to throw the whole thing out.” You tried to pry the pitcher out of Akaashi’s hand, but he clutched on tightly.
“I wanted you to have fresh coffee,” he said simply, and you gaped. You looked at him for a second longer before your eyes flick back to the counter that you just cleaned up, and realization washed over you like a gentle shower. 
“Did you –” you paused for a second, unsure of how you were going to deal with this situation, “Have you been making a new pot of coffee each time it went cold?” 
Akaashi opened his mouth as if to speak, but quickly clamped his lips down to press them into a thin line. You managed to grab the pitcher from Akaashi with no resistance, and rushed to place it back into its proper place on the machine. In your peripherals, you could see a crinkled bag, folded in half and tucked in a corner behind the coffee maker. 
“Is that…” you mumbled to yourself before quickly snatching the nearly empty bag from its hiding place, “Keiji!”
He winced slightly when you presented him with the evidence, coffee beans flying astray when you shake the bag in Akaashi’s face.
“I just got this bag, Keiji!” you groaned, lamenting the gallons of your favorite roast undoubtedly swirling through the drainpipes of Tokyo by now. You peeked into the bag, frowning when you saw that only about a fourth of the bag had been saved, “Now I have to wait until next month for the cafe to give me a free one.”
“I wanted you to have –”
“Fresh coffee. I got it,”  you sighed, placing two hands on each of Akaashi’s shoulders. Again, he showed no resistance when  you pushed him backwards and sat him on your empty chair. He opened his mouth to argue when you grabbed two mugs and poured in the cold coffee, but the glare you shot him was enough to make him shut it. You ignored his searing gaze as it trailed after your every movement, ignored it burning holes in your back while you microwaved the two mugs of coffee, ignored the burn in your throat at the pathetic way he watched you place one mug in front of him, and held the other as you took the empty seat across from him.
You gestured silently to the mug of coffee.
“Drink,” you ordered, and the word made Akaashi instantly grab the handle, “There’s only room for one mental breakdown in this apartment at a time. And I call dibs for today, okay?”
Akaashi couldn’t stop the laughter that broke free, and you couldn’t help but smile at the exasperated way he shook his head. When the two of you lifted your mugs, your eyes met for just a moment, and the smile you shared with your best friend might have been enough to heal your heart. 
Then, you took a sip of the coffee, and the moment the dark liquid hit your tongue, you had to fight the cringe, and pretend that the way he burnt this batch didn’t break your heart all over again.
“That’s…” you begin, searching for the words. You coughed instead of finishing your sentence.
Akaashi simply sighed. He reached a hand in his pocket, and pulled out his phone.
“What are you doing?” you asked, watching him slowly slide his fingers up and down the screen. 
He gives you a pointed look. “What’s it look like? I’m getting breakfast delivered.”
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The sun looked just about ready to set by the time you and Akaashi decided to settle down. Empty take out boxes were piled in the proper compartments of the trash bin, and neither of you have bothered to clean up the crumbs all over the table. 
Breakfast had passed by silently, the both of you just content to be in each other’s presence, still sniffling as you shoved entire forkfuls of souffle pancakes from your favorite bakery. You shrieked with delight when you recognized the logo on the bag Akaashi retrieved from the delivery man. You didn’t even scold him for the insane delivery fee he probably had to pay for them to bring it all the way here. 
You just crushed him in a tight hug and accepted his kindness with a kiss on the cheek. He sighed in the way you imagined an older brother would about his annoying little sister, despite you being an entire year older. It made you chuckle, especially when he let you break his very strict “no eating in the living room” rule. 
If Akaashi had any questions or concerns about the events that transpired last night, he mercifully kept them all to himself. After breakfast, he dug out the kotatsu blanket from the storage closet, and – after screeching to Akaashi that he was banned from making any beverages for at least a month – you brewed some of his favorite green tea.
You laid under that kotatsu with Akaashi for hours, sipping on tea that had long turned lukewarm, talking about things that were of neither importance or relevance. You wasted away the entire day, it seemed, if the setting sun and ombre skies out the windows were of any indication. 
Akaashi sat across from you, his back leaning against the foot of the couch. The kotatsu blanket reached up to his waist, and his head lolled lazily to the side as he scrolled mindlessly through his phone. You’d long thrown propriety out the window, though it never is in the room when you’re with Akaashi. You managed to snuggle yourself completely under the kotatsu table, the blanket skirt covering your body while using your seat cushion as a pillow. 
Akaashi had gone through tremendous effort to make this day feel as casual as last week’s Sunday morning. You had a niggling feeling that if you let him, then Akaashi would be very content in keeping you inside this bubble of safety and comfort that he’s curated specifically for you. He’d keep the problems that were waiting past these four walls at bay for as long as he possibly could. This, you knew without a shred of doubt. 
It was a kindness that you held closely to your heart. One that you knew was the type of kindness that didn’t boast, but wrapped itself around you gently and held you against its chest. The longer you looked at Akaashi, rubbing his finger against his nose and eyes glued to the screen, the more your heart swelled with that affection he generously poured into your cup. 
And you knew that because he’s loved you enough to create this bubble, you had to love him enough to pop yourself both out of it. 
“Keiji,” your voice felt hoarse from the silence, the words scratching at your throat, “Was I really that blind?”
Akaashi stilled almost imperceptibly, if you hadn’t known him for years, you probably would have missed it. He clicks the button on the side of his phone, and he gently places the black device on the table. He shuffles to move his seat cushion from beneath him and tosses it to the side, settling himself beneath the blanket before laying down to face you. 
“You weren’t blind, y/n.”
He said it so gently, probably worried that if he spoke any louder, then you would shatter. It softens your heart as much as it sends a spike of irritation through you.
“Dumb, then? Oblivious? Stupid? Naive? Either way you spin it, it still comes down to my faults, my…” your voice cracks, the traitorous thing, and you stopped to clear your throat, “What word would you use, then, Keiji?”
“Young. Afraid. Hurt,” He says with a lot more force and clarity than you expected, each word striking directly into your heart, “A whole lot of other words before stupid, actually. An entire dictionary’s worth.”
You wanted to wipe that look off his face, really. Eyes misting his usual blue to a foggy gray, and failing to stop his wretched mouth from quivering. How many more people in your life were you going to hurt? You felt pathetic.
You stay silent for a moment before starting, “Bokuto… he must have also been in a lot of pain,” you sighed, turning to supine and training your eyes to the popcorned ceiling, “Everything’s so… fucked up. And it’s all because of me and my stupid ignorance and –”
“Please, stop saying that,” Akaashi groaned loudly, balling a fist into his own hair. 
Exasperation floods through you like a tidal wave, it crashes through you viciously and your body shoots itself up into a sitting position before you could even think. You couldn’t hold back the glare at Akaashi before asking him with a bite, “Well, what do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know,” Akaashi answers with a growl, maneuvering himself up to face you, his fists landing helplessly on the table, “but please, stop saying stuff like that, not when–” Akaashi sighed, bring two fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I knew about everything for… a long time.”
You shrugged carelessly as you replied, “Well, yeah. I know I never actually told you, but I thought you figured it out after… the equipment room incident.”
Akaashi pursed his lips together. “Oh, I did. But I wasn’t talking about just you.”
Your eyebrows lifted, opting to stay silent. Akaashi nibbled at his bottom lip in hesitancy, allowing him the time to process through whatever he clearly wanted to say. You brace yourself when you see him taking a slow, deep breath.
“With you, it was… so fucking obvious. And it wasn’t just because you followed him around, or laughed obnoxiously loud at his dumb jokes. If anybody looked at you for longer than five seconds, they’d see it on your face – clear as day. You looked at him like… I don’t know. Like he made all the flowers bloom, or painted the sunset with your favorite colors or something poetic like that.”
“That sounded pretty poetic to me,” you laugh, though it sounded hollow and despondent in its attempt to hide the gut punch Akaashi’s words delivered. Akaashi smiled ruefully, but he continued. 
“My point is – you never had to tell me. I knew it. You knew it. We all knew it. Your feelings were never the big secret you thought it was. Bokuto might have been the only person in this world that never picked up on it. And actually, there was a point in time when I genuinely thought he was ignoring them on purpose. Fuck, maybe he did. I never really figured it out. I don’t really think he ever did either. Because with Bokuto…”
Akaashi took the deep breath you’ve been holding the entire time he spoke, and he looked directly at you this time as he spoke.
“I knew he loved you. He loved you, maybe a bit more than he knew what to do with. God, if you only saw how he’d glare at any guy that tried to even look at you. They were ridiculous – hilariously vicious. He always did it behind your back, but it was about as subtle as a flashing neon sign. I don’t know how you never caught him.You followed him around, sure, but he made sure he kept you by his side, never letting you stray too far from him. Because if you weren’t next to him, then he was… lost. It’s stupid but– yeah, I think I knew he loved you, even before he knew it himself. And I could have told him. Should have told him. It would have been easy, quick – ‘Bokuto, Y/N is in love with you’. And he would have gone running. Well, nevermind. It might have taken him a couple days, but when it hit him… I don’t think anything in the world could have stopped him.”
Silver streaks on Akaashi’s face matched the warm tears that trickled down your own, and you tried to catch his gaze but at this point, he stared fixedly down at his lap. 
“Keiji…” you called out to him, somehow wrangling his name through the tightness of your throat, because you need him to look at you. Needed him to see that you didn’t blame him, would never even think to. But he doesn’t meet your eyes. Instead, he barrels on. 
“But I didn’t. Obviously. I kept my mouth shut, and just watched you two bumble around like idiots. It was, believe it or not, torturous for me. For the longest time, I kept my nose out of your business, because I know what it’s like to… Ahh,” He bows his head, and covers his eyes with the palm of his hand. It took a moment before he wiped his hand away and continued, “I did try once, though. With you. And I felt so completely iced out afterwards, I remembered exactly why I kept out of it for so long.”
He must have sensed the rebuttal at the tip of your tongue, but he interrupts you before you could even start.
“I’m not telling you this to make you feel guilty. I’m telling you this because… I was afraid too. I was scared that if I had kept pushing, then you would have pulled away from me completely. I was scared that Bokuto would think I was overstepping my boundaries. I was scared that it would work out, and the two of you would phase me out of your lives. I was scared it wouldn’t work out, and everything would be…”
His voice trailed off, so you softly finished for him, “Fucked up?”
He finally, finally looked at you then. You reached across the table and held his hand in yours. You felt him stiffen for a second before turning his hand and curling his own fingers around yours. A giggle of relief spills from your lips, and it elicits a chuckle from Akaashi, and the sound blooms within you.
“You guys are my best friends,” Akaashi said, his grip on you tightening just a fraction, “And I saw what you were putting each other through. I was watching it all happen in front of my own eyes. I should have done something more, right? If I had tried harder with you, if I just talked to Bokuto, if I bothered even just a little bit more to get over my shit and helped my friends…  Then this never would have happened. And Kuroo… God, Kuroo. He didn’t need me to do a damn thing, he just loved you but still I managed to fuck things up for him and –”
“Shut up!”
Akaashi started a little at your sudden outburst, but it achieved the desired effect. He blinked at you once, then twice. You almost felt a twinge of guilt at your lack of patience, considering all that Akaashi was beginning to unpack in front of you. But weren’t you the one that called dibs on the mental breakdown today? If he thought you were just going to sit there and listen to his blasphemy, then he’s sorely mistaken.
“Don’t you even try to blame any of it on yourself, Keiji,” you spat out, irritated, “How could you even say something so convoluted? How could you even think such a –”
“It’s true, isn’t it?” Akaashi interrupts you fervently, as if desperate to get you to listen to him, “I let my fears hold me back, instead of facing it for the people that mattered to me. I’m just a coward.”
“No, Keiji. You’re not a coward. You…” You let out a heavy breath, all the sharpness in your tone now softening at Akaashi’s deep set frown, “Do you even have any idea how much you saved me? Even though things were… unspoken between us, I knew you understood me. Without me ever having to say a single word, you understood me. And you never judged me or tried to tell me I was wrong. You just… you just held my hand. No matter what happened, good or bad, if I looked to my side, I knew I would see you there. Do you think you’re the only person that notices the little things? I felt your support, and I felt your love. Even when you didn’t say it out loud.”
“But–”
“No more buts, I really don’t want to hear it. You weren’t the one responsible for us,” your eyes were hard, providing no room for arguments, “You were just a kid. What could you have even done? You saw how stubborn I was being! Do you really think I would have listened? You were young, and afraid, and didn’t know any –”
Too late. The words flew out of your mouth quickly, you didn’t even think twice about it. Your guard was down, and you knew that was the most dangerous thing around Akaashi Keiji. Because too slowly did you realize the trap he laid out in front of you. And as the words slipped past your lips, you realized you were already too late. Akaashi was already looking at you with that smug grin.
“It’s not the same, and you know it.”
“No, it’s not,” He chuckled at you as if you weren’t staring daggers at his soul right now, “But if you can afford me that much grace, then I think you owe the same to yourself. Everyone makes mistakes. You won’t meet a single person that doesn’t have any regrets. But you can’t let those feelings define you. Only improve you. I know you’re feeling… a lot of shit right now that I probably can’t even begin to process. But it’s what you do with those feelings that matter.” He propped an elbow on the table, and rested his chin in the palm of his halls. “Are you gonna let it keep you down?”
You felt a little stunned, and though Akaashi’s words were simple, you could feel them find their mark. Hot tears pricked at the corner of your eyes yet again, and you didn’t look away from Akaashi as you let them fall. Still, you crossed your arms indignantly and pouted. “I can’t help but feel like I fell for some dirty trick.”
Akaashi laughed this time, waving his hand to beckon you closer to him. You begrudgingly moved from your spot, ignoring the ache in all your joints from your lack of movement, and crawled to sit beside Akaashi. He lifted the kotatsu skirt for you to settle under before wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Dirty trick or not, as long as it gets the point across.”
“I understand, Keiji. I do, but still,” you sighed, leaning your head against his shoulder, “It’s difficult not to feel foolish.”
“I know,” Akaashi said as he laid his cheek against your crown, “I know. Fools in love, right?”
You didn’t know what to say, so you chose not to say anything. The lull in conversation allowed you the time to process his words, closing your eyes to feel everything you’d been avoiding the entire day. With a deep inhale, and a slow exhale, you silently search for the strength to let it all go. 
A buzz on the table catches your attention. Akaashi makes a point to ignore the notification, even more so when it buzzes again. 
The sight of his phone only served to remind you of your own, sitting dead and silent somewhere in the corner of your room for the entire day, of the calls that went straight to voicemail, of the messages that are unanswered – of the two men on the other side of line, waiting to see which way their world is about turn. 
“Have you heard from…” 
Akaashi lets out a snort through his nose. “Oh, yes, I have. I’m probably dead for ignoring all the calls and texts. But I needed to make sure you were alright before I answered anything.”
You chuckle, moving out of Akaashi’s one-armed embrace and sitting up to face him fully. “I love you, Keiji. I’d pick you if you were in love with me too, you know. What do you say? Wanna throw a towel in the ring?”
Akaashi laughed, loud and brash and genuine, and for the first time that day, you actually believed that everything will be alright. “I love you too, y/n. But I’d rather die.”
You nudged him hard with your elbow before standing up, leaving Akaashi to rub the sore spot while you stretched out your sore limbs. “I guess it’s time to stop hiding now, right?”
“Yeah…” Akaashi trails off, and you wait for him to ask the question you could see had been brewing in his mind for hours, “What are you gonna do?”
The question shoots a pang of loneliness through you. Because no matter what decision you make, everything will change. Your friendships will not walk away unscathed, and there will never be going back to the way things were. This was irrefutable, and that thought alone should terrify you, should make you want to scramble back on your knees and beg the gods to turn back time. Yet, it doesn’t. 
No, instead you’re filled with a sense of clarity that you’re not sure you’ve ever felt before. It pained you to know that you’ll hurt the people that matter to you the most, but not as much as it would pain you to know that you weren’t being true to yourself. 
It was time for you to choose your own happiness.
“Nothing’s changed for me, Keiji. I’ve always known what I was gonna do. Whether this truth came out or stayed hidden forever… my answer is going to be the same.” You smiled sadly as you spoke to Akaashi, and he offered nothing but an understanding nod, “From now on, for me, it’s always going to be him.”
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✧: @kawaii-angelanne @boosyboo9206 @theglitterypages @rntrsuna @vinsmouke @chi-anpan @jinadamsel @kowalsqq @arcorjoan @galaxyfloater3
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bypandoramaxum · 11 months
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journey through the reefs [an atwow series] chp. 5
summary: amidst the ordeal both you and Ao’nung had to deal with, he began opening up about something that forced you to make some difficult decisions, and with that, comes with a frightening realisation and discovery that you were not sure how to deal with.
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pairings: ao’nung [25] x fem!human!reader [20]
word count: 3.6k
warnings: depictions of intensive military training, swearing, whaling, animal cruelty, betrayal.
taglist:  @jakesully-sbabygirl @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @eywas-heir @myh3artttt @sweetirilly @fanboyluvr @henhouse-horrors @ghostlyworld @bratsukisworld @yevyyevs @erensbbg @zoetrope1997 @phoenixgurl030
a/n: apologies due to the long wait! I swear, I’m not going on a hiatus, the workload has been crazy for me this month and I also got caught up in other things. thank you so much for the support shown on the previous chapters, and I hope you will enjoy this chapter as much as the rest of it!~
»»————- . ————-««
The chances of attaining self-autonomy had you feeling hopeful after Thomas’ promise on getting you and Ao’nung off the ship, away from the RDA’s radical authority, as it seemed. Though it wasn’t easy putting your trust in someone who worked directly for the organisation, it was your best shot at the current moment. You still held room for doubt in case this all backfired on you, which could help you notice any signs of betrayal as soon as suspicions of it fills your gut.
Ao’nung himself, while still sulking from time to time, and occasionally showing signs of aggression towards the staff if they pissed him off enough, he still somewhat kept his word when it came to being on his best behaviour. He was still getting roughed up here and there, you would sometimes be greeted with the sight of bruises on his body, but not as bad and dreadful as before, though it still made your heart clench in hurt and disappointment.
You, on the other hand, were forced to undergo some military training, and you had been going at it for a couple weeks. Never in your life would you have seen yourself in military gear, running laps on a massive battleship, having completing obstacle courses within a timespan of fifteen minutes, or even shooting your very first gun.
And of course, you had to be assigned to the most unforgiving and ruthless teachers ever. Who else would it be other that the colonel himself as well as that bubblegum-blowing bitch of a soldier, Z-Dog. Her temper and attitude clearly showcased why she was even given that nickname in the first place.
“Damn, could you be any slower, runt? Even my grandmother runs faster than that!” Z-Dog chastised as she watched you finish your final lap of the day.
You couldn’t bring yourself to answer her as you struggled to catch your breath while supporting yourself on your knees. They made you run ten laps first thing in the morning and had the actual audacity to look at you like you were crazy to even feel tired from that. A wet and cold sensation jolted you out of your rest as the colonel decided the best thing to get you going again was to pour a bottle of water onto your head. While it did give you the refreshing recharge that you needed, your irritation couldn’t be more evident than it was now.
“Now, now, sweetheart. Enough with that grump face. You still have that to complete.” Quaritch instructed as he pointed behind you, to which you look back, only to have the dread seep back into your soul as your eyes landed upon the jungle gym of an obstacle course that was waiting to be completed.
“You might as well tell me to swim with sharks.” you thought to yourself before reluctantly jogging to your next course.
»»————- . ————-««  
A whistle was blown loud and clear, signalling to everyone in the vicinity that it was break time, and you couldn’t be more grateful for it. The training had you drenched in sweat and smelling like sea water, and the next thing that you were looking forward to was a nice warm meal after a refreshing steam shower. You were promptly escorted back into your cell to freshen up, and had your lunch slipped into your room.
Just as you were about to dig in, Ao’nung had just returned from his own form of training, where he had to endure rather long hours of interrogation as well as lessons in the English language. Sure, he picked up some words here and there, just enough to get people off his back, but overall, he had no interest in fully learning the language of the sky demons.
“Ao’nung! You’re back! How did it go?” you called out to as you took a bite from your food.
“Hated it so much. The tawtute tried teaching his native tongue and had me speak it too.” Ao’nung complained, picking up a piece of fruit from the basket provided.
“Well, did you at least learn something from it?”
“There were things like ‘please’, ‘help’, ‘hello’ and ‘yes’. I don’t remember the rest.”
“Haha, yeah, learning a language isn’t really all that fun.”
The both of you continued to chat and bond over the strenuous training that these bastards put you through while also eating your meals together. The atmosphere really lightened up every time you met up with Ao’nung. He made the whole experience of being here just a little bit more pleasant despite your circumstances, to the point where you could really see him as a friend, perhaps a lifelong one.
After your meals were finished, you set your tray aside, allowing yourself to stretch your muscles and relax a little bit.
“You seem to be feeling more comfortable here.” Ao’nung piped up.
“Hmm, not exactly, but you got to find some peace amongst chaos, no?” you replied.
“I try, but my home is my only peace, it seems. Too many demon tools here and it is cold, too. Also, everyone is so loud, all this noise is making me dizzy.”
“I bet there’s so much beauty to witness, where you’re from.”
“There really is. The crystal clear waters, the wildlife, the magnificent floras, especially the Cove of Ancestors. The most sacred part of my clan, the Metkayina.”
Seeing Ao’nung gush about the wonders of his home was a really heart-warming sight to see as he spoke in almost a child-like manner, as if he just found something fascinating and wanted to share it with the world. You wished you could say the same for Mother Earth. A once great planet that was painted with azure and emerald, enriched with countless years of history, roamed by luscious floras and wonderful faunas, now polluted by the destruction of man. An abundant of terran animals and plants went extinct many years ago, even way before the colonisation of Pandora took place. The fact that your own kind are seeking out a moon and possibly other planets to destroy had you feeling dejected and disappointed. Why couldn’t humans live a peaceful and harmonious life, and appreciate nature just like how the Na’vi did? Sure, there wasn’t a way for humans to directly connect with nature, but the least that could’ve been done was to preserve the wonders of other living things, and be grateful for their very existence.
“Once a year, our spirit brothers and sisters come to our village, to celebrate the annual return for the tulkun festival. We would sing so many beautiful songs and swim beside each other. I always had so much fun with my spirit brother every year.” Ao’nung beamed as he reminisced those happy times.
“I don’t doubt that for a second. Have you celebrated it this year?” you asked, eager to know more about the Na’vi way of life.
“Yes, I did. Just a day before I was… you know. Although, this time, I didn’t get to see my spirit brother.”
“Oh. Why is that? Could he not make it?”
“I’m not sure, and I’m a bit worried. He had never missed a single return. I did ask other tulkuns about him, but all of them told me the last they saw him was a day before, and said that he was on his way to the Ice Point.”
The Ice Point. Looking back onto your parents’ journals and textbooks, not much was known about it, except for the fact that it had one of the deadliest temperatures, possibly in all of Pandora. There had been attempts at exploring the Ice Point in the past, but all of them failed due to the harsh conditions that the location brought. Many lives were perished during the expedition, which led to the RDA ordering an immediate retreat from the area.
“But, the air and ocean is at it’s coldest there, no? Why would he go there?” you asked worriedly.
“Not for tulkuns. They have strong bodies, and are able to withstand the harshest of temperature. Very few times would any Na’vi venture to the Ice Point, as it can be unbearable to linger too long. For humans like you, it is only a matter of time before death comes.” Ao’nung explained. “But tulkuns only swim to the Ice Point when a threat presents itself. That’s what I’m concerned with. What was he trying to escape?”
As worry continues to loom over him, Ao’nung turned around to walk towards his bed for some well-deserved rest. As he stood tall and broad, you couldn’t help but notice the tattoos that he adorned from the left side of his face which trailed to his chest, arm, back and leg. The designed was very intricate and detailed, considering that Na’vi technology was pretty primitive.
“That’s… a really nice tattoo you got there.” you commented as you admired the artwork.
“Oh, thank you. These tell stories of my life. I got the first one on my face, which signifies my coming-of-age ceremony.” Ao’nung proudly explained as he pointed towards the left side of his face. “But the one that means the most to me is the one on my thigh. This signifies the place I met my spirit brother.”
Though, for whatever reason, you couldn’t shake off the gut feeling that you saw that particular design on his thigh before, it was difficult to pinpoint exactly when and where you saw it. Even without a concrete reason, a sinister chill shivered down your spine, an uneasiness brewing cold in your heart.
»»————- . ————-««  
Next morning came by before you knew it, and here you were, in Dr. Aragon’s private laboratory, undergoing your weekly medical examination. He had you jogging on a treadmill for about thirty minutes at this point to test your endurance, and although you hate to admit it, you had Colonel Quaritch and his squad to thank for that. Thomas was right next to you, taking notes of your condition while giving you a look, indicating to you that he had some viable information to spill. But all that was cut short with Dr. Aragon piping up.
“Alright, it’s time to wrap things up here! Off of that runner, gal, and take a seat.”
“Yes, sir.” you switched off the treadmill and went over to sit on one of the lab stools.
“So far, you’ve been quite the stunner when it comes to your physicality. I’m impressed with how far you’ve come in your training with the colonel and all.” Dr. Aragon noted as he took of the nitrile gloves and chucking them into a bin. “Though, I’m going to need to see some more useful information. While the last video logs we had you do was somewhat notifying, it really wasn’t producing any leads for us.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I’m trying my best to talk to him in a way that doesn't rouse any suspicion. I’m still getting used to choosing the right words.”
“Well, it’s not fast enough for us. Our stock on amrita is running low, and the demand is getting urgent. If I don’t see any more from you, consider our next meeting your permanent sign off from the programme.” Dr. Aragon sternly lectured as he turned away to walk out the lab.
“W-Wait! There was something.” you exclaimed as you ran up to him. “Ao’nung mentioned something about the tulkuns and the Ice Point.”
Dr. Aragon turned back to you stared at you with a judgmental gaze.
“Oh really? And what else?” he noted.
“There’s also something about the tattoo on his thigh.”
»»————- . ————-««  
After sharing everything you had with Dr. Aragon, he left you alone with Thomas to go meet up with Quaritch to discuss the information you had conveyed, which leaves you sitting on one of the lab tables with your head hung low in shame and guilt as Thomas went over your vitals.
“Please tell me this feeling is only temporary and it will pass with time.” you mumbled pathetically without looking up.
“Sorry to break it to you, but nope. You’ll be thinking about this very moment for as long as you live. No one ever forgets their first act of betrayal, even if it’s in good intention.” Thomas just replied honestly. He knew that even though this wasn’t the truth you wanted to hear, he figured he shouldn’t sugar-coat the full experience of it. “Now, as much as this sucks, we need to focus on the task at hand. Save the moping for later, ‘cause I got something that you’re going to need to know.”
Now that managed to get you to perk your head up and hop off the table in anticipation, instinctively grabbing Thomas’ arm, eager to know what trick he had up his sleeve.
“Please! Tell me what you’ve found so far.”
Thomas gave a light chuckle before directing you towards his section of the lab, which had a big computer screen which allowed him to pull whatever file he needed to examine.
“We’ll start off by pulling up Ao’nung’s full profile right here to get a good look of his tattoos.” Thomas remarked as he opened up the file with just a swipe of his finger. “You mentioned that this one on his thigh indicates the possible location of his first meeting with his tulkun, yes?”
“Yeah, but I’m not sure which location contains a symbol like that, or if it even is one in the first place.” you replied.
“Well then, let’s do a little thinking outside the box. Maybe we don’t put our attention on the design first.” Thomas then did another swipe which then showed the map of Pandora’s oceans.
“What are we looking for?”
“I’m seeing if any of these islands match the shape of the tattoo, and mind you, there are like hundreds of these, some Metkayina and some Ta’unui. We’re going to be here a while.”
“Then why don’t we just focus on the Metkayina ones? That would cut down our work by almost half, right?”
“It would, but unfortunately, not all the islands have been explored thoroughly. We don’t know for sure if they belong to either clan, or if it’s just uninhabited.”
“Hmm...” you hummed in deep thought as you searched your mind for any possible solutions. “Do we have any info on which Metkayina islands are frequently visited or have the most activity detected? There’s a chance we could find the shape that matches the tattoo a lot quicker.”
“That... could be a good start.”
»»————- . ————-««  
Three hours later…
“There! That one looks like the closest match.” you exclaimed in excitement as you pointed towards an island on the screen.
Thomas immediately drew his eyes towards the island and his expression matched yours. Both of you jumped up and hugged each other in a mini celebration as the key to this whole thing was nearly unveiling.
“This is awesome! Now we just need to track its distance from the Ice Point and we can finally set the plan in place.” Thomas explained enthusiastically.
“I’m sorry, we haven’t really discussed what this plan really is? Mind filling me in on it?” you prodded.
Thomas then pulled up another file which required a password to open it. Once it was entered, a whole string of information revealed itself and you gave it a quick analysis, but it just left you baffled with even more questions than before.
“What’s all this? It’s just a bunch of code.”
“That is because we are in on this together, remember? I can’t have anyone else listening in on our plan or finding out about it. Hence why I made up a bunch of code words and symbols so in case this gets revealed, deciphering it is going to buy us some time.”
“For what exactly?”
“For the off chance we get thrown back in our cells.” Thomas specified as he began having all the information printed out. He also reached into his drawer for a small device and quickly handed it to you. “Unfortunately, it’s almost time for me to send you back, and it’s going to be a lengthy process to explain the plan and decipher the coded documents. But not to worry, ‘cause I have everything pre-recorded right in this earpiece, so once you’re in bed, put on the earpiece and listen while you read them. I’ll sneak them in later along with your dinner tonight.”
You nodded frantically as you tried your best to absorb every instruction that he was giving you. Now was not the time to be hasty or reckless, as one wrong move even for a split second could backfire horribly for everyone involved, you couldn’t afford a single slip up to happen in your watch.
»»————- . ————-««
You returned to your cell and was about to greet Ao’nung like usual when you found him sound asleep on his giant bed, with a thin blanket wrapped tightly around him. You were guessing the air conditioner was on blast mode considering he was still slightly shivering from the cold despite being bundled up.
You know you shouldn’t, and you do feel slightly weird for doing so, but he seemed so at peace and serene in his slumber, you couldn’t help but study his features, and before you even realised what you were doing, you found yourself moving closer to the glass barrier separating you two to get a better look of him.
The way his voluminous curls mostly cascaded around his shoulders and down his back, with a few defined strands framing his face. The tattoo on the left side of it was perfectly etched according to his bone structure, adding the extra touch to his already masculine features, making him that much more...
Beautiful...
...and handsome.
Warm and flushed cheeks.
A quick beating heart.
»»————- . ————-««  
Metallic clanks interrupted your quiet trance, causing you to look towards the source of the noise, just to see Thomas standing outside your cell with a tray in hand, and under it was the envelope that held the coded documents. It looked like he was stifling his laughter, which flustered you even more.
“Just hurry up and get in here!” you whispered-yelled at him as to not wake the sleeping prince across from you.
“You should’ve seen that dreamy look you had on your face. Who knew you had a thing for our great giant here?” Thomas teased as he handed you your dinner with the envelope still under it.
“Whatever. It’s just a little crush,and he’s a little bit good-looking, nothing’s going to come from it.” You began eating your late dinner. “Care to give me a little preview of what I’m about to hear?”
“I won’t say too much. Just that we got a little extra helping hands on our side. Also, after you’re done listening, you can hide the envelope under the tile in the far right corner of your cell.” You shot him a puzzled look as your chewing paused. “Oh. I used to hide trinkets that Zäpe gave me in there.”
At that, Thomas stood up and left your cell, leaving you to your own thoughts. After finishing your meal, you pushed your tray to a corner and quietly took out the documents from the envelope, bringing it to bed. You then placed the earpiece firmly and pressed on the button. As soon as you did that, you could Thomas’ voice ringing through it.
“Okay, so now that you’ve got your hands on those documents, I want you to listen well and listen good. I’ve got a lot of crucial information that you’re going to want to know, so I cannot afford even a single moment of distraction. The papers are already organised in order, you should know when to turn the page.”
You skimmed your eyes over the documents as Thomas explained every part of the codes. You did your best to memorise every single detail of it, making sure that nothing got past you. The more you listened, the more amazed you were at the thought of Thomas risking so much just to overturn the RDA, you wondered how he even managed to do all of this without rousing any suspicion, but you felt that it was best not to pry.
But one thing was for certain.
You weren’t going to go down without a fight.
You were going to ensure that Ao’nung makes it out of here alive.
Even if that meant at the cost of your life.
After listening to Thomas’ recording, you decided that it was time to call it a day and get some well-deserved rest. You were hiding the envelope in the spot Thomas showed you when you heard Ao’nung turned over in his sleep, which caused his blanket to slip off slightly, revealing his tattooed thigh.
As soon as you laid eyes on the design once more, the memory of seeing it before suddenly hit you out of the blue, as if you had been hit by a fret train. You began sweating bullets at the realisation.
But nothing made you more enraged until you walked past a window that allowed you an outside view of the ship, where you could see a gargantuan creature, twice the size of the now extinct blue whale, being held in a large drilling station. Its large mouth was propped open by heavy machinery, and you got a clear view of the roof of it.
That tulkun…
“What’s happening to that animal?”
…had the same tattoo…
“They’re drilling a hole through the roof of its mouth.”
…where they first met…
…Ao’nung’s spirit brother.
How were you supposed to break that kind of news?
»»————- . ————-««
a/n: ooh, it seems things are starting to tense up immensely! wonder what’s going to happen next? I’ll see you on the next update, and thank you for reading, as always!~
like and reblog if you enjoyed!~
© bypandoramaxum. do not steal, modify, repost or translate any of my work.
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sherlockruiningmylife · 10 months
Text
My Merthur (Merlin) fics masterlist:
Decided to redo this list from scratch because I hadn’t updated the original in an age. Listed from my newest works to my oldest. All fics are linked to via the title. Should just be able to click to open them.
-Bleeding Gold (T | 3,865)
Merlin bleeds gold. Every time he is injured he has to hide it from any prying eyes.
Small excerpt: It's a simple cut that wouldn’t require more than a few stitches. If it were on one of the knights it would be no big deal. But on Merlin… The problem is, Merlin isn’t quite human in the way the others are. He’d been aware of this for a long time and it always irked him. But now it was especially apparent. As blood dripped from his arm in the shallow cut. It dripped gold.
-The servant god (G | 3,275)
When Merlin and Arthur get into an argument, Merlin reaches his wit's end. He blows up and confesses to Arthur before storming off. Now it is Arthur's turn to try and win him back
Based off of a post I had drafted on Tumblr but never actually published. Not used entirely verbatim in here but almost the same lines are there: Merlin gets frustrated one day and explodes into a rant about how Arthur treats him. Merlin: Do you even know who I am?! I am Emrys, Arthur! I am a God! Arthur: (scoffs and crosses arms) God of ineptitude maybe. Merlin: (glares then storms out leaving a trail of flames behind him)
-Becoming a god (G | 6,367)
The knights and Merlin stumble upon a shrine to Emrys in the woods. Merlin realizes, too late, that it may be more than just a simple shrine.
-How to pick a fight with your soulmate (G | 2,353)
Soulmate AU where your soulmate shares your pain every time you get hurt. This is how I imagine the market fight in the first episode would have gone had soulmates existed.
Small excerpt: “Do you want to give up?” Merlin yells. “To you?” Arthur asks as he backs away. Hoping sooner rather than later that this foolish man would hit himself with the mace he is swinging so wildly. “Do you? Do you want to give up?”
-Till death do us part (E | wip currently 50k+)
Stuck in an arranged marriage contract, struck before either were old enough to have a say, can Merlin and Arthur find any happiness in their inevitable partnership? With one being a sorcerer prince, and the other raised to despise sorcerers it seems doubtful.
This one is my baby, my love, my passion. But she is currently on a little hiatus. Will be back once I quit getting distracted.
-To know all of him (T | 4,307)
When Merlin and the knights get captured by a sorceress, Merlin is forced to take a truth serum. After revealing his secrets, will Merlin be able to regain the trust of the king and his knights?
Short excerpt: The sorceress growled, “Enough games, now answer! What is your biggest secret?” Merlin frowned, trying to fight off the serum, after several long moments of silence Merlin looses the battle and says quietly, “I have magic.” Anthea grins, “there now, was that so hard?” Lancelot winces but Arthur looks puzzled. Arthur, who had been observing the interaction with confusion finally chimes in with a cut off laugh.
-Hidden Talents (T | 19,755)
Modern with magic - Aithusa/dragonlord fic. Merlin and Arthur are roommates in uni. Arthur likes to complain about Merlin's appalling lack of a social life, using this as an excuse to take Merlin with him everywhere he goes. This is convenient for when Merlin is needed to protect Arthur from his own misfortune, but it does make it difficult to keep certain parts of himself hidden.
I definitely tend to write for myself and this is a prime example. I reread this one often, it makes me happy :)
-A Grain of Truth (M | 12,179)
Merlin and Arthur travel to an outlying village in Camelot seeking a stolen amulet. What they find is a thriving magical community with druids wandering the town's market freely. Unfortunately for Merlin, he is recognized as Emrys. How will Arthur respond when he finds out? Set somewhere in the midst of season 3.
-Camelot’s Protector (T | 5,632)
Camelot is forced to battle Essetir when Cenred's men invade. Merlin does his best to stay at Arthur's side when the battle begins, but Arthur is insistent that Merlin get to safety. Both refusing to cooperate, they get themselves into trouble and end up revealing more than they'd planned.
-The Role of Servants and Masters (G | 3,476)
Thomas is a new servant in Camelot's castle. Before today, he had only heard stories of the prince and his manservant. He had thought them to be the result of the castles working rumor mill, blowing them out of proportion. He will soon find out first hand just how true those stories were.
Small Excerpt: So far, Thomas knew that the Prince, Arthur, and his manservant, Merlin, were a bit of an oddity in the castle. Their relationship could not be described as that of a servant and his master. Instead, people described it as… well no one was quite sure. Prince Arthur gave Merlin orders, but those orders were either ignored or done begrudgingly. From what Thomas gathered, Merlin did follow the law, he just didn’t seem to adhere to the spirit of it.
Another one I reread often :)
-The Trouble with Soulmates (T | 17,774)
Arthur Pendragon is a famous actor, Merlin Emrys is a maths teacher. The chances of their paths crossing are slim to none. That is until Arthur sets them on a rather frustrating journey. Who knew that soulmates could be so troublesome.
-Not According to Plan (T | 2,294)
While out on patrol, Merlin, Arthur, and Elyan are ambushed by bandits. In order to fight them off, Merlin must use his magic. When one of the bandits cries 'Sorcerer', Merlin is faced with a tough decision. Caution is thrown to the wind, and Merlin is a badass.
-The Legend of Emrys (G | 4,801)
As the king of Camelot, Arthur is seeking to undo his father’s laws against magic and right his wrongs. As the final step in this process he seeks an alliance with the druids. They inform him that he already has their allegiance because Emrys is at his side. There is only one problem with that, Arthur doesn’t know who Emrys is.
-Once and Future Merthur (T | 11,832)
While escaping from bandits, Merlin and Arthur find themselves transported to a different version of their lives. Throughout their journey secrets are revealed and emotions are uncovered. Will they be able to handle the truth once it is unveiled?
This one is a bit out there admittedly, but I stand by it.
-The Unwanted Gift (G | 5,649)
Merlin is, by his nature, a kind and gentle hearted person. When a young sorceress sees this in the warlock, she seeks to help others to be able to see this in Merlin as well. She gifts him with an enchantment that bears Merlin’s soul to the world, which leads to some rather unintended consequences for the warlock. Inspired by this artwork from 2018 by tumblr user @cypress-ess: https://cypress-ess.tumblr.com/post/177981059209/snow-white-au
-Visiting Home (T | 3,016)
Arthur and Merlin travel to Ealdor to take part in a harvest celebration. Arthur has known about Merlin’s magic for a while, and Merlin has been named the Court Sorcerer. Wanting to get to know more about young Merlin, Arthur asks Hunith for some stories. OR – tooth rotting domestic fluff
This is 2 years worth of my writing/my life which is quite crazy for me to think about. Hope y’all like some of these, I love this fandom so much!
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shoujomangathoughts · 7 months
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Shoujo Thoughts - Snow White with the Red Hair
This is another series that I've heard about for years and finally gave it a chance (watched the anime then immediately went to the manga). It's a series that I find very charming, relaxing and was a nice change of pace for me and my usual tastes.
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I remember seeing people warning others how "you shouldn't read the manga" because apparently it gets boring and is overstaying its welcome story-wise. While I don't think everything that has happened so far is entirely necessary, I think this sentiment comes from people wanting the more romance focused parts from the beginning to remain throughout. If you haven't read the manga, Shirayuki gets (and takes) an opportunity to help her studies as an herbalist but this results in two years away from the palace, and therefore Zen. They're still together here and there, but the manga starts leaning in a more slice of life direction and the romance is a bit more subdued. I actually appreciated this and found the individual adventures and growth of Zen and Shirayuki more interesting at times as Zen tries to learn and be a better prince and Shirayuki continues her studies and tries to reach people.
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Zen and Shirayuki do have a nice relationship though and I find the romance to be pretty well done. They both have that awkward energy and are trying to navigate their own lives as well as their relationship.
The presentation and world of this series is another captivating point for me. The anime was visually great and I thought the manga's art was really nice too. It has a whimsical style and shows you a lot of small interactions and details. It makes the world feel lived in and allows you to have a clear idea of the cast and their personalities. I specifically really like the visual of Lilias and its snow covered imagery (as well as the wintry outfits).
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The main cast is also mostly likeable. The way they interact with each other feels natural and they each have their own charm that adds something unique to the dynamic. Even the part that had people frustrated with Mitsuhide didn't bother me as much because I could understand how that was a very in-character decision for him.
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Favorite character : Obi
I do find that Obi is the most charismatic character in the series for me. He's obviously had a difficult life but he also seems so genuinely affected by having found a group of people that he comes to value. Every time he's around he adds something, whether it be a witty remark or demonstrating his ability to be a bodyguard. Yes he loves Shirayuki, but the series doesn't really show that Shirayuki loves him back (basically the series isn't really leaning into the love triangle direction). Though I do appreciate that she has on multiple occasions told him how much she values him because he does do and help her a lot. He also seems to have good chemistry with the rest of the cast (particularly in his interactions with Shirayuki and Zen though I also love his relationship with Ryu).
All in all, I've found this to be a really enjoyable series up to the current chapter (sad to see it's on hiatus, hope the mangaka is doing well). I'm not entirely sure how long it will continue as the scope of the story seems to suggest it still has a while left, but I'll be continuing it whenever it does come back.
It's been a little bit since I posted one of these but as always, thanks for reading!
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elizabethh1125 · 9 months
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{Take it off} König x (GN) reader~
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Hey guys! It’s honestly been way too long. Firstly, I want to apologize for taking such a long hiatus. Many things in my life have changed to be honest.
My age, my interests, my personal life, my job, my health and so my writing style unsurprisingly has also gone through a transformation of itself. Looking back on my old works I honestly cannot say I have read more than about three sentences before I can’t stand to look any more. It’s just so BAD. Not saying that my new shit is much better, but it’s a slow and steady uphill battle. But for some of my more consistent followers you might have also noticed the change of theme on my page. I will no longer just be catering to the community of five nights at Freddy’s. And I apologize to the folks who only stay on my page for that type of content but honestly, if I only made that type of content, I wouldn’t post here anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I still love five nights at Freddy’s and will be writing more content of that eventually (I’m sure if it lol.) but it’s just not my main focus at the moment I’m sure so for now I really want to branch out to some more games/characters that I’m enjoying in the moment so you guys get more variety and so can get some more people on my page who can enjoy my work.
For this first newer post I decided to take it easy since I haven’t really written anything for a while. And I feel like the longer fics that I write are the last motivation I have to finish. So another change will be that my fix will probably be shorter one shots/ two or three parts instead of a whole series. I may also end up doing a lot of headcannons or imagines to help with writer's block.
Cod MW/MW2 has been my current infatuation, so expect a few more posts of that. Buckle up children cause we are going for a ride!
This post is a short little sweet fic about seeing konigs face for the first time. It’s simple and it’s SFW so I hope you guys enjoy it.
Tags: sfw, fluff, complements, just good ol brain rot.
Fic below the cut.
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It’s hard not to notice how hot it is.
The air conditioner on base wasn’t very good anyways, but you never noticed how significant it was until you no longer had any.
As you walked down the hall you could hear some of the newer recruits here at KorTac complaining. And to be honest, you couldn’t blame them. It was difficult to bite your tongue, but as a higher rank you had to pretend everything was alright despite the sweat parading down your neck and body. It was so sweltering even your eyes were dripping.
You brushed away as much as you could with your one free while you made your way towards your colonel’s office. Your captain had asked you to deliver a few documents as per usual, so you weren’t too bothered making the trip.
The colonel himself was an interesting character. And although you weren’t able to see the pleasure of him working out in the field, he was a usual participant in helping to train the troops. And oh boy, what a sight to behold.
Firstly the man is an absolute unit. He’s over a foot taller than you, (ignore that if ur a tall person xD)
He’s built like a tank, and works out with a giant black t-shirt on his head. He was always a sight to behold out on the training course, and most of all was a very kind and experienced leader. you definitely could understand how he earned his title. as quiet as he might pose himself to be, he was a skilled and brutal fighter.
And that’s why you're so intrigued as you strut to room 106. His room. You wonder how he’s faring with the heat, especially with that unusual getup of his. You even wondered if he would have it off. It’s unlikely, but the curiosity of what the colonel might look like under the mask had you that much more excited when you knocked on his door.
You heard a grunt of displeasure from behind the door, followed by a faint “come inside.”
You twisted the knob and pulled the door open revealing a pretty uneventful spectacle.
Colonel König sat behind his desk fiddling with some papers. The soft hum of a nearby fan could be heard in the background, and you noticed he was wearing the full getup- helmet and all.
He looked up to meet your eyes before ushering you further inside with a slight motion of his finger.
you find yourself trying hard not to stare as you hand him the paperwork.
“Captain said to give these to you. More files from the new recruits. He mentioned he would be out for the weekend so He said to let you know to give him a call to his personal cell if you needed anything in particular from him.” You relayed your message from the captain and was officially finished with your service.
A sigh fell from Königs lips before he spoke “Ah yes, I remember him intending to do such. Thank you Liefermädchen, have a hopefully cooler afternoon.” He noted before he looked back down to finish his work and you spun to exit the room.
You took a few steps but before you left you couldn’t contain your burning question… literally
“I’m sorry sir, but I just have to ask…” you squeak out as you flip back around to face him.
Konig looks up again from his work and this time you can tell he is intrigued just by his eyes. He brings his built arms up to his head and gives them a good stretch before crossing it behind his neck and placing one leg over the other.
“Alright, don’t leave me waiting. Shoot.” He’s now staring intensely at you, and you feel yourself begin to feel hyper aware of the sweat now dripping down your face from your hair and even your eyebrows. You’re sure glad you happened to choose to exclude makeup from your morning routine today. No doubt it would have melted off just standing here.
“Aren’t you hot under all of… well, that ?” You question as you wave your hand all over his makeshift sniper getup. “It is almost 40 degrees outside sir. And with no air conditioning to help alleviate things… well I can’t imagine you're quite comfortable.”
“I am aware of the situation we are under,” he remarks. Now uncomfortably shifting around in his seat, “ but I’m doing alright.” He fibs.
Your going to regret saying this later, but before you can stop it, it’s already squeezed itself between your lips,
“Bullshit.”
You try to pretend you didn’t just say that to your Colonel, but the shock is clearly present on your face.
This causes the man to burst out into deep bounds of laughter, causing him to let his legs fall back into place and to unfold his arms to clutch his stomach with joy.
“You are a hilarious and very brave Herzblatt” he bellows as his laughter dies out. “ You have caught me in my fib.” He takes a moment to stand up and shrug his large shoulders under the shirt. “I am quite warm…”
“Then why not take it off? You pose to him.
“People come to my office often. To take it off, means to risk someone seeing my face.” He motions to himself as he speaks and you struggle to understand what he means.
“So? Why would that matter?” You retort.
“I’m not sure I feel quite comfortable with people knowing what I look like. Kindness has not been in my favor when people had the pleasure of looking at me without my mask.” He says, making you finally understand.
“Are you afraid people will target your looks?” You tilt your head as you move slightly closer to where the Colonel stands. How saddening that is to hear. You wonder what Konig has had to endure in the past, and your heart yearns to help him overcome his insecurity.
He looks to the floor, obviously ignoring your question,
You take this as your opportunity to breach the distance between the two of you. And the conversation suddenly feels like a mother confronting her mistreated child.
“You are the colonel of this base.” Without regard to overstepping you place your hand on Königs left shoulder. “ it wouldn’t matter if your face was so hideous it turned people into stone sir. People will respect you regardless, you are a leader here, and a leader doesn’t need to have a pretty face to still be respected. And anyways, your face probably is perfectly handsome anyways. I’ve never met an insecure ugly person.” The last two bits were a little overboard but you made your point regardless.
He smiles under his mask with your words to him. He couldn’t believe you were giving him a chance to feel a little better about himself, plus the idea of finally being able to strip himself of his personal sauna would make his job a little bit easier.
“I don’t suppose you would take it off just for a little while? I’m sure it would help cool you down.” (That was a lie) nothing would cool either of you down without air conditioning in this sweltering heat.
König pauses for a moment, and he contemplates what unveiling himself to you would mean to him. suddenly, it feels much worse that you would be the first to see him. He knows you probably wouldn’t judge, but something about it being you that just made him feel…Flustered.
He wanted to say no, but before he could protest you pushed at him again, this time trailing your hand to the bottom of his mask and tugging on it gently.
“Please. Just in front of me? I promise I’ll play nice.”
That last sentence made his head spin. Were you flirting with him?
No.. you can’t be? Can you?
His heart began to speed up to a pace so quick, he worried you might be able to hear it pounding in his chest.
“Okay.” He affirmed, unclamping his helmet and pulling the hood off to reveal his balaclava.
You felt the anticipation begin to boil inside of you as he brought his hand to his hood and firmly pulled it off of his head, not giving himself any time to process that he was revealing his face to you.
When he finished pulling his head out and tossed his balaclava to the side with the rest of his gear, you can’t help but feel your jaw drop.
He was stunning.
His hair was brown and curly, and falling to his shoulders. His face was chiseled, and covered with rough stubble. He adorned battle scars like medals and his lips looked so supple and soft.
You couldn’t imagine why he felt the need to coward himself away under a mask for so long. He was beautiful.
Your silence must have begun to worry him, as you noticed he had broken eye contact and was looking towards his balaclava.
You quickly realized that and gained his attention with a tap to his shoulder. You both had forgotten you were still sitting your hand there.
“So how do I look?” He questioned nervously. And your words couldn’t have been more perfect to him.
“I think the temperature of the room just shot up a million more degrees.”
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An:
For all my visual learners here is my favorite depiction of what I believe Konig looks like under his mask. Of course all credits to the artist! (NOT MY ART) Please go to their post and like it. Also I’m not posting the actual picture to my post to respect the artist’s wishes of no reposts. Just go to the link stinkies and I will see what I mean okay-byeIloveyou!
https://www.tumblr.com/gildedskully/703578007597678592/face-reveal-i-just-think-hes-neat-rbs
(Please read)
Should I do a part 2 where things get a little… spicy?
I very well might. The temptation is greatly building in me.
Anyways for now that is all. I hope you're enjoying my newer writing style and are not disappointed in my branch out to other fandoms. As always I very much appreciate any support I get. It makes my day when I see people comment or like my posts. It’s unfathomable to me that people actually read my shit writing- 💀
Oh and, Btw if you have requested any fics from me I will get into writing those hopefully soon. I know my hiatus looked quite gloomy and long, but I’m back for now. Me taking long breaks is honestly just how I am as a person. I always come back though. Life gets busy, and I’m an adult so other adults understand the struggles of juggling jobs, life and hobbies. Even if I am gone my fics are still here for you to enjoy. Rather If that’s ten days from now or ten years, I hope you’ll enjoy them just the same.
Thank you.
-Elizabeth
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jeonbunnie · 8 months
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the entertainer ✧ 2
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✧ reader x seokjin, ft. yoongi
✧ summary: In need of some real cash, you take a job as a dancer in your city's most notorious strip club. You’re making your own hours, raking in a good amount of money, and feeling sexy while you do it. Everything was fine as long as you kept your work life and your personal life separated.But when a handsome stranger shows up one night you find it difficult to maintain the balance.Jin is a gorgeous, rich, and–taken man. But one look from you on that stage has him spellbound. He knows he’s got no business coming back to the club, but there’s something about you that makes him want more than just a private dance. . .
✧ genre: strangers to lovers; angst; smut; fluff; 18+
✧ content/warnings: 18+, rich/ceo!jin, fuckboy!yoongi, stripper!reader, college!au, songfic, pov shifts, based on summer walker’s last days of summer album, loosely inspired by pretty woman, slow burn, smut, pining, mutual pining, love triangle, romantic suspense, cursing, dirty talk, explicit sex, oral sex, fingering, aftercare
✧ a/n: this is an old fic I wrote under my prev pseudo @jeonsweetheart that I put on hiatus as noted in this lovely banner by @kookdiaries. however recently I’ve found some love for my old pieces so I decided to try writing it again. If by some miracle your someone who’s read this story in the past lol I’ve edited some details to fit the narrative better but other than that, I’m continuing with the story as is! this isn’t beta’d and since I haven’t done a series in a while I’m actually pretty nervous reposting this so if u like it pls stop by my inbox or drop a comment I’d really appreciate it :)
✧ soundtrack: girls need love—summer walker
✧ word count: 9k
♪ So what’s a girl to do when she needs loving too... ♪
| <- prev | next -> | masterlist♡ | ao3
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[2:06am] Yoongi: You up?
You squinted at your phone, reading the message in the dark as the blue light shined on your face. You liked Yoongi; you really did. But more and more, you noticed he’d formed a habit of messaging you late at night. Only at night.
He’d brush you off when you attempted to hang out with him outside of work in the daytime, then later hit you up when it was convenient for him. You were starting to hate him for that and yourself because you let him get away with it.
Well, not tonight, you told yourself. I’m not gonna play that game. You put your phone on DO NOT DISTURB, returned it to your nightstand, and buried yourself in your sheets. You lay in bed feeling empty inside; you liked Yoongi, but you didn’t like this. Feeling so desperate for him all the time it was stupid and embarrassing.
Is that what love is?
You didn’t know. You’d never been in love before. Not really. Sure, you had crushes, mild infatuations, and situationships galore, but nothing like this—not this dull ache in your chest. If what you felt for Yoongi was love, then as much as you hated to admit it, maybe it was unrequited, and Hyuna was right.
Love had to be better than going to bed alone, feeling so cold and numb even though you were covered by a blanket.
You hoped she was wrong.
You wanted to be more to him than a few stolen kisses in the night and a body to hold. But as much as you wanted him to take your relationship seriously—to take you seriously—you could never risk asking him for more. To ask would be to give him all the power, and Yoongi already had enough control over you.
It wasn’t always like this. There used to be a time when you had all Yoongi’s attention.
You were so nervous coming into the club the first time. Back then, you still weren’t fully comfortable with stripping. But you had just started school, and though you already had a job bussing tables, you were still so very broke, and those bills wouldn’t pay themselves.
So you sucked up all your inhibitions and made yourself audition. You don’t know how Yoongi saw you in that crowded room. There were so many girls, certainly some more eye-catching than you, but he managed to catch you in the corner having a minor panic attack.
“You need to breathe.”
“Huh? Sorry, did you say something?” You blinked, taking in the appearance of the handsome stranger before you. On any other day, his intense eyes would have made you swoon. But that day, you were too caught up in your thoughts, worried about the worst possible outcomes of your getting up on stage. It’d been a long time since you danced for anyone besides yourself, and somehow, you were convinced you would mess up. Trip over your heels or forget a part of your routine.
“I said, you need to breathe. You look like you’re holding your breath. Are you that nervous?”
Yes, yes, you were.
You smiled weakly at him, clutching the water bottle in your hands. “I don’t even know what I’m doing here. I don’t think I can do this.” Your eyes flitted towards the exit.
“You’re here now, so you might as well go through with the audition. Don’t stop halfway.”
God, you thought, were you that obvious?
“What if I fuck it up?”
“Then you fuck it up. But that’d still be better than not trying at all.”
You remember being shocked at his response. But the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. Yeah, so what if you fucked it up? You didn’t know these people. Worse scenario, you wouldn’t get in and leave a little embarrassed, but no one would know about your private failure except for this handsome stranger.
You must have taken too long to respond because shortly after his blunt advice, Yoongi apologized.
“Sorry. . . I’m not that good at pep talks.”
“No, it’s okay. I don’t know why, but that actually helped.”
Yoongi’s eyes widened. Just a bit. Just enough for you to know your response surprised him. “Uh, good. You’ll be fine.”
“Thanks,” you said. Then thoughtfully, you wondered out loud, “Why are you being so nice to me??”
You couldn’t believe some guy was talking you down from your anxiety attack in a strip club. What was his agenda? Did he expect something from you?
“Why not?”
You opened your mouth to question that logic when you heard your name called. Your stage name. It was your turn to audition next. You glanced up at the stage before you, the black velvet curtain in the background, soft pink and white lights setting the mood, guiding your eyes to the catwalk in the middle. And on that center stage, those same lights highlight the silver pole in the middle.
Just looking at it made you gulp. Even though you were no stranger to the spotlight, having been a dancer, this new venture was awfully intimidating.
Strange enough, you found yourself looking towards the kind stranger—for what? Words of encouragement?—but he offered you none. Just a lazy smile as he nodded towards the stage for you to dance.
Truly, you don’t remember how the audition went. You were too nervous, too full of adrenaline to recall if you did well and if your movements were graceful and sexy rather than stiff and awkward. What you remembered was the conversation that followed, what you could make out of the hushed voices huddled together to decide your fate.
You strained to hear them over the thump of your racing heartbeat.
The first man to speak still seemed to be in thought as he stated his opinion. “I’m undecided. She doesn’t really seem like the type. . . I can’t imagine her sticking around for long.” He turned to the other judges in the room, “What do you think?”
“I agree with Namjoon,” said a man so pretty you could have mistaken him for a girl. “Technically, she’s a great dancer, but she’s lacking major confidence.”
Finally, the woman spoke. “Well, I like her. I think she’s got a lot of potential. Everyone grows into it anyway; give her a chance.”
Even with that vote of confidence, the group leader still seemed unsure. He turned to look over his shoulder to the man in the audience you spoke to earlier, the one you gave your whole performance to as you swayed on stage under sultry lights. “What do you think, Yoongi?”
At last, you had a name to put to the face of the handsome stranger. His dark eyes held no hint or indication that he favored you, and if his body language was anything to go off of, you were sure it wouldn’t be a good thing based on the way he slouched in his seat, arms crossed over his chest.
But then he spoke, a slow grin pulling over his face that put all your nerves at ease.
“I couldn’t keep my eyes off her.”
That was how it started. At the time, Namjoon, Jimin, and Hyuna were strangers to you. You had no idea the club owner and their two most favored dancers were in the room with you deciding your fate. Yoongi gave them his vote of confidence and sealed your fate. You started work later that week.
After you were hired, you were always aware of his presence at the club. You could feel his gaze follow you on stage, at the bar, always that cool, calm smolder. And the attraction was mutual. You constantly watched him in the booth, amused by his natural gift for music. There are so many shows you put on just for him. It was a crush, simple as that. You wanted him, but you were much too shy to say it. Thankfully, Yoongi was brave enough for both of you, asking you out after your first week.
The date was a pleasant surprise. Despite Yoongi’s introverted nature, he actually took you to dinner and made conversation at first, none of that Netflix and chill bullshit. His calm, quiet demeanor was infinitely attractive to you, and you found yourself mooning over him the whole night.
You hadn’t planned on fucking him, honestly.
But it’d been a while since anyone had touched you like that. So when Yoongi’s gravelly voice whispered in your ear, asking you to tell him how you wanted it, how you needed it, as his fingers rubbed sweet circles on your clit, all you could do was whine and tell him how badly your body wanted him with a desperation that couldn’t wait. You needed him right then and there.
The next morning, you woke up and swore it wouldn’t happen again.
But, of course, it did.
Again, and again, and again.
So here you were, stuck inside a situationship you didn’t want but one you always succumbed to. And tonight seemed no different.
Closing your eyes, you will yourself to go back to sleep, and you do for a little while. Until a pounding sound woke you up. You barely registered it as a knock the first time, but after two or three times, you dragged yourself out of bed and to your front door.
You had half a mind to reach for the bat you keep in the hall closet, just in case. It was an ungodly hour, and you lived alone (times like these made you regret not getting a roommate). You checked the peephole first, then sighed. Irritation rose in your blood.
You unlocked the door and snatched it open. “What are you doing here?”
“Don’t act so surprised. You were giving me puppy dog eyes all night. You really think I wouldn’t show up?”
You can’t tell if the anger surfacing is from your lack of sleep, the scare, or the fact that Yoongi is standing on your doorstep. It’s probably a combination of all three. “It’s two in the morning,” you said pointedly.
Yoongi isn’t phased by your grumbly voice or sharp tone. He shrugs and moves to step inside, but you block his path.
“Absolutely not. I’m going back to bed.”
“You’re mad.”
He didn’t say it like a question, but you could tell by the lilt in his voice he seemed surprised.
You scowled into the dark. “You can’t do this, Yoongi. Pick and choose when to show up.” Pick and choose when he could be in your life, when you mattered to him.
You motioned to close the door, but Yoongi stopped you, sticking his hand in the frame. And then he did something that made you pause. He reached for you, placed his hands on your waist, and pulled you close.
Shit.
Yoongi pulled you in like the tide. It was always eb and flow with him. When he did things like that. . . You couldn’t help but give in. You were weak for this, for his touch, for the moments when he wanted you. So when Yoongi swept in close, body heat coming off him in waves as his hand reached up to cup the back of your neck, you leaned into the embrace.
“I know I’m late,” he said, kissing the corner of your mouth. He nuzzled into your neck, sneaking kisses on your collarbones.
“Let me make it up to you.”
“Yoongi. . .” You started, coming to your senses for just a minute. But before you could protest, he interrupted you with a kiss. Any resolve you might have had left your body once his lips found yours. It was so easy to lose yourself in Yoongi. His kisses were fire, all-consuming, wild. You could never get enough. Yoongi licked into your mouth, and you moaned, stumbling back into your apartment.
And just like that, you crumbled.
You let him lead you to the bedroom, shrugging off his clothes, his mouth never leaving yours. You felt your knees hit the back of something soft and sat down on your bed while Yoongi kissed you stupid. You let him touch and, tease and pull you apart. Till the pleasure overtakes the pain in your chest. And it’s good, so good. Good enough to make you forget why you were even upset in the first place.
He inches you forward with kisses and bites—marks you know will leave a hickey—till your back hits the headboard, momentarily breaking you from his spell.
“Wait,” you said, eyelids fluttering open.
But Yoongi’s hands are already sliding up your nightgown, leaving wet kisses down your thighs.
And then there was the solid feel of his hands spreading your legs apart, lips dangerously close to where you needed him most.
He hooked a finger under the waistband of your lace underwear, pulling the material off.
“You were saying?” said Yoongi, and you shivered as his breath fanned over you.
Honestly, you couldn’t remember. You lost every coherent thought your brain was trying to form. All you could think about was his touch, his thumb on your clit, the feel of him stroking you gently. You were so, so wet.
And he knew it. You could feel Yoongi smile against you as he rested his cheek on your thigh, long slender fingers working over you until all you could do was tilt your head back and sigh.
“I love playing with your pussy.” He whispered, voice just above a purr.
His words made you throb. “Yoongi,” you moaned, his name a desperate plea on your tongue.
“What?” He answered, voice smug, “What do you need?”
Too embarrassed to say the words out loud, to admit just how badly you need him, you reached down, sliding a hand into his hair, tugging at his locks to pull him right where you wanted him.
Yoongi chuckled. “So impatient.” But he didn’t move his head from between your thighs. Instead, he leaned forward, licking a stripe up your center before rolling his tongue around your clit.
You couldn’t help but lean into the action, hips tilting up to catch the sensation. But Yoongi was having none of that. He brought up a hand, pushing one palm against your belly to press you down into the mattress, while the other caressed your thigh.
“Behave,” he said, the dominance radiating through his voice. It’s the only warning you get before he nips at your clit, drawing out a sharp cry from you, the pain mixing with pleasure. Before you could even respond, Yoongi lapped at your folds, tongue making a mess out of you.
You let yourself get lost in the sensation as Yoongi buried his head between your thighs, devouring your whole. You’re too far gone to stop the whimper that spilled from your mouth. All you felt were stars as his tongue curled around your clit, languid licks driving you closer and closer to the edge.
Yoongi knew your body like it was his. He memorized every shiver and shudder, every move that turned you on. He could hear your heavy breath, feel the tremble in your thigh, and know exactly how to push you over the edge.
So he does it, sliding two fingers deep inside you to press against the spot that made your body taunt with pleasure. The pressure of his palm against your belly, his hot tongue flicking against you, his fingers curling deep—it’s overwhelming.
Chest heaving, you called out his name, a plea and a warning all at once. You were so, so close.
Cum for me,” Yoongi rasped, voice vibrating against you, and that’s all it takes for you to fall.
You climax, pleasure rushing all through your body, blanking your mind, curling your toes. Your hands fist in Yoongi’s hair, once again tugging at his locks. Only this time, Yoongi didn’t stop your pleasure but doubled it, replacing his fingers with his tongue to delve inside and taste every drop of your release, stopping only when your thighs shake, the sensation becomes too much.
When you finally came back down and caught your breath, Yoongi lifted his head and met your gaze with a smirk. “Did I make it up to you yet? Or should I apologize again?”
Though you’d been satisfied, Yoongi ‘apologized’ twice more for good measure before laying you on your side and pulling you against his chest. Cold as he appeared, Yoongi defied all fuckboy logic and was quite fond of aftercare and cuddles. Thirty minutes later, he still laid beside you in bed, naked body flush against your skin.
These were the moments you treasured the most. Pos-coital bliss, where you could pretend, if only for one second, that you were something more than strangers who sometimes shared beds.
But they also made you the most confused. Because, here in his arms, it felt like more than friends, more than sex. But did he think that, too?
So many nights you spent just like this, trying to convince yourself that this was good enough, that you were comfortable living in this in-between state. But that was then, and this is now, and it’s not enough.
And now you know it never was.
“Yoongi?” you said, turning in his arms so you’re face to face.
“What,” he grumbled back, voice thick with sleep. It’s a sound you’re all too familiar with, one you’ve let lull you into a stupor time and time again. He leaned down to kiss you, but you placed a hand on his chest, keeping him away.
“What are we doing?”
It’s a question you’d always been too afraid to ask, but now that it was the only thing on your mind, you couldn’t stop yourself from blurting it out.
Yoongi scoffed. “Sleeping?” He nipped at the sweet spot on your neck, “Unless you’re up for another round.”
“Yoongi, I need—”
He licked a stripe up your neck, scrambling your thoughts. “What? What do you need?” He said, voice husky. It’s enough to make you moan but not enough to distract you from your racing thoughts.
I need to know what this is. I need to know where I stand with you. I need—
“More than this.”
“I’m serious. What are we doing? What. . . what are we?”
You said it. The thing you’re not supposed to say, and it made you feel sick to your stomach.
You shouldn’t—it’s not as if it’s some forbidden phrase, but the words weighed heavy in the air. You’re going places you’ve never gone with Yoongi, putting all your cards on the table. It’s risky. No one wants to be the one who cares most, but you do. And you know you’re not supposed to. You know you can’t say that you want more. That you want love. That somehow, this unspoken arrangement isn’t what you needed any more. You needed to know if he felt anything for you in return, and you needed to know now.
It was quiet for a minute before you finally said, unable to stop yourself from masking the vulnerability in your voice: “I like you.”
“I like you too,” said Yoongi. There was no weight to his words. He said it so quickly, so easily, that it stunned you.
Maybe a little too easy.
“So what does that mean for us?” you said, sitting up in bed, more awake now than ever.
Yoongi froze. “Us?”
“Yeah, is there an us?” You can’t seem to say what you really mean; the words hover around the truth of your real desires, that you want a relationship. It’s obvious, isn’t it? “Because if it’s not, if you can’t see this being real, then I don’t think I can do this anymore. I might take a break.”
He has to know what you mean. . .Do you really have to spell it out?
But apparently, you do because Yoongi glosses over the true meaning of your words entirely. “Can we talk about this in the morning? I’m tired. I don’t want to fight right now.”
He reached for you, his hand slipping up your thigh and rubbing small circles with his thumb. The touch is soothing, but your mind is still whirling. Still trying to connect the dots from what he said, what it meant, and what you heard.
“I don’t want to fight right now.”
Why does the question of choosing me have to be a fight?
It’s this thought that makes it all clear. It’s not a fight. Yoongi knows the question you’re asking. He just doesn’t want to answer.
You opened your mouth to say as much, but you’re tired, too. Tired of this bullshit. The ease with which Yoongi dismissed your needs time and time again. You don’t have the strength to plead your case, and you shouldn’t have to, really.
You laid back down with you back towards him, nodding your head in agreement even as you shoved your disappointment down deep.
As if sensing your frustration, Yoongi wordlessly consoled you. He trailed kisses down your body. Each kiss, a tiny apology. At the top of your head. Sorry. By your jaw, sorry. The dip between your neck and shoulder. Sorry.
Sorry, sorry, sorry.
Despite yourself, you lean into the embrace. Yoongi didn’t always have the right words to say, but he always had the right touch. Still, a part of you starved for a deeper affection, a part that even Yoongi’s touch couldn’t reach.
. . .
In the morning, you woke up to the shining sun, aching limbs, and an empty bed.
Yoongi wasn’t beside you, and the loss of his touch stirred you from your sleep as the loneliness crept back in. You know there’s no note for you to or an explanation to where he’s gone, so you don’t bother checking. Instead, you roll over to your side, clumsily fumbling around for your phone on the nightstand.
You open your eyes with a sigh, blurred vision trying to make sense of the digits on the screen reading 9:02am when everything clicks into space with startling clarity. Your entrepreneurship class started at nine.
Shit.
“Late! I’m late!” You shouted, hopping out of bed and throwing on a T-shirt and jeans. No doubt, you look a mess, but you didn’t have time to worry about appearance. You could not be late; this course was one of the hardest in your major. You couldn’t afford to miss any class and pass, and if you flunked out, you’d have to wait another two semesters before it’d be offered again. That was time you simply didn’t have. It’d put you way behind your schedule to graduate on time with your degree, and you couldn’t afford to waste more time in school.
It’s the desperation that has you rushing down the hall to your classroom, tired and out of breath after sprinting from the parking garage into the building. You’re flustered, sweaty, and way too embarrassed to make eye contact with your professor as you enter the room, only bowing your head in apologies as your eyes scan the room for a seat.
Mia flagged you down in the corner of the room, and you slid into the desk next toher. “I saved you a spot,” she whispered, careful not to raise her voice above the steady drone of your professor’s lecture about starting a new business.
“Thanks,” you said, eternally grateful to have made a friend in this class. Mia was a school friend who, through late-night study sessions and lunch breaks, was slowly becoming a real friend, too. If only you didn’t have more time on campus, you’d probably be best friends by now, but between working for two jobs and school, your schedule was always full.
“We’ll dive deeper into identifying your target customer base next week.”
When the lecture ended thirty minutes later, you pulled Mia outside the classroom. “Hey, thanks again for saving me a seat. Can I borrow your notes from earlier?”
“Of course.” You thanked her as she pulled out her notebook and handed it over.
“No problem. Where were you this morning? I thought we were supposed to catch up before class.”
You forgot about that. “Uh, sorry. I overslept. Rain check?”
“Sure. I have a class until 3, but after that I’m free. You wanna grab dinner tonight?”
You wince, knowing you’ll have to turn her down once again. “I’d love that. I really would, but I’ve gotta—“
“Work, right. Of course.”
“Sorry, Mia.”
“Look. I get it you’re busy. But I feel like I never see you these days.”
You can’t help but feel guilty knowing she’s right. You have been all over the place this semester. Your social life was definitely suffering for it.
“And when I do, you see, you’re basically running around campus looking like a total mess.”
Ouch. When she puts it like that. . .
Mia must have read the hurt look on your face cuz she quickly backtracked. “I don’t mean to sound harsh. I’m just worried about you, ya know?”
You know she’s right, but it still made you feel like crap to hear your friend chide you like this. You know you’ve been distant, but were you really that bad?
“And I miss my friend,” she added, squeezing your hand.
At this admission, you relax, understanding where she’s coming from. “I know. Today’s not great, but I promise I’ll make it up to you, okay?” You looked down at your phone, checking the time. Now you were going to be late for your next class, too. “I gotta run, but we’ll talk later?”
Mia nodded. You hugged her before hauling ass across campus to your next class.
. . .
“Do you know what an embarrassment you are to this family?”
Seokjin sighed, slumping in his seat. His father slapped the newspaper onto his desk so hard it’s a wonder the glass didn’t crack under his palm. It took all of his strength not to wince at the title:
Billionaire Playboy Caught At An Infamous Strip Club.
“I didn’t choose to go there. Taehyung and Namjoon took me out—“
“I don’t care what Taehyung and Namjoon do. They can destroy their families’ reputations if they want to. But you are my son. I won’t have you tarnishing my reputation. You think you deserve to run this company after a stunt like that?”
At this, Seokjin rolled his eyes. “I don’t think I deserve anything. I’ve never wanted this company,” he said.
“You ungrateful piece of shit.”
Seokjin meant what he said, but he wasn’t ungrateful. Inheriting his father’s million-dollar diamond corporation was never part of his interest. “You should hand over your company to the child who wants to run it. Sohee would—“
“Sohee doesn’t have what it takes to run my company.”
Translation: Sohee wasn’t a man. And Seokjin’s sexist father would never give her the chance she deserved to take over the family business. Even though she was the progeny most naturally suited for the job.
His father waved away the idea. “Enough of this talk of Sohee. You will inherit the family business. It’s time you stopped acting like a child. Have you forgotten your responsibilities? After your wedding to Mei, our company will expand. You’ll have no time for these foolish endeavors.
How could he possibly forget? Between the tabloids and the endless, frivolous meetings crammed into his schedule to decide what color goes best with the tablecloths or what dish should be served for the twelfth-course meal, he hasn’t been able to escape any thoughts of the wedding as much as he’d wanted to.
Seokjin met Mei under duress six months ago with the intention of their union expanding the company into the Chinese market. And though their families held a long-standing relationship with each other—they were practically strangers. He had no feelings for her, and their relationship was strictly business, to his chagrin.
Seokjin didn’t want to get married—let alone to someone he barely knew. But the decision wasn’t up to him. As with everything else in his life, his father made all the decisions. Every school, every job, and every opportunity was already picked out for him before Seokjin could even utter the word ‘no. Nothing was ever a choice.
He hated his father. For his cruelty and selfish ways, his blatant disregard for others, his children’s wishes, and the control he had over Seokjin’s life.
“As a matter of fact, I have an important business dinner with her father this evening—you will attend.”
“Of course, not like I had any plans.” Said Seokjin, smiling sweetly, but his eyes held malice.
His father cut him a look and opened his mouth for what Seokjin was sure would be a good cussing out, only for his father to explode into a coughing fit. The bastard was sick, but unfortunately for Seokjin, not ill enough to die. Just enough for his father to retire early and order him to take over, crushing any dream he had of escaping his legacy.
His father cleared his throat. “I expect you to be on your best behavior and impress him, boy. But don’t be a fucking kiss ass. Remember, you represent the Kim name. Show me you are not a complete disappointment as my heir. You can do at least that, can’t you?”
Seokjin grit his teeth, swallowing down his anger. He hated his father for his relentless demands, but he also hated himself.
Because despite resenting it all, Seokjin always did as he was told.
. . .
[4:34pm] Sunshine Boss: I have something for you :)
[4:34pm] Sunshine Boss: I know you’re off tonight, but you should stop by and pick it up. I think you’ll be satisfied with the gift.
You look up from your phone, stopping midway in your tracks. It’d be risky, but you could squeeze in some time to stop by the club before heading to your other job.
Jeongguk winked at you as you walked up to Paradise. You smile at him as he holds the door open for you, shaking your head at his endless flirting. It always amused you that he was the club bouncer when the kid was a little younger than you. But you always felt safer having Jeongguk at the door. You’ve seen firsthand how that sweet bunny smile could fade into a deadly expression. Jeongguk could be very intimidating when he wanted to be, and his muscles weren’t just for show. You felt sorry for anyone who crossed a line at the club and ended up facing off with him.
It doesn’t take you long to find your boss. He’s tucked away in his sleek gray office as usual, typing away on his laptop. He looked polished as ever in a new suit and a crisp white button-down. When you knocked on the door, Hoseok looked up and waved you inside. “Come in.”
“You said you had something for me?” You asked. You were still curious as to why he requested you stop by. Work was work, but Hoseok took your personal lives seriously. He never crossed the line between the two, so you found it odd he reached out.
“I do,” said Hoseok, reaching inside his desk drawer. “Your private session left you a big tip last night. I thought it’d be best if you received it directly.” You watched as he pulled out a fat white envelope and slid it across the desk.
Just looking at it made you raise an eyebrow. Hoseok’s bright eyes gave nothing away as he waved a hand towards the envelope, beckoning you towards it.
Without thinking, you opened the envelope and let out a little gasp of shock at the thick wad of bills inside. Hundred-dollar bills.
“All this is for me?”
“All of it.”
You shifted out a few bills, ready to hand over your expected dues, but Hoseok stopped you with a hand. “You misunderstand. I already have my cut. Everything within that envelope is yours.”
“Are you serious?” You said, unable to hide the shock in your voice. You had enough money in your hands to pay your whole rent for the month and then some. All from one dance.
The sharp angles of Hoseok’s face softened, and he smiled at your disbelief, a dimple showing out. “Clearly, you left a good impression, but I expect nothing less—you’re one of the best.”
You wave away his words, too embarrassed to accept the compliment, thinking about exactly how you won Seokjin’s favor. Just the thought made your heart race. As much as you hated to admit it, your patron wasn’t the only one affected by that last dance.
“I um—I’ve got to go. But thank you for making sure I got this personally.”
“Of course. Before you leave, your gift came with a letter,” said Hoseok, pointing back to his desk.
You don’t know how you missed it at first, but sure enough, another smaller envelope was on the glass with your name handwritten on the front.
“Oh.”
“I think you might have a new regular. Seokjin seems to be very fond of you.”
. . .
Later that afternoon, you pulled up to work, grateful you remembered to stash a bag with clothes in your car. You quickly run to the back, hoping to change into your uniform. But your boss caught you before you could sneak off to the back.
“You’re late,” she hissed.
Yes, that was becoming quite a habit of yours. You ducked your head apologetically, hoping the woman would scold you quickly. “I’m sorry, I was—”
“—I don’t have time for excuses. A high-ranking guest is coming in tonight, so just do your job.”
You don’t miss the pointedness in her tone—no fuck ups tonight.
“Got it,” you said, holding back your grimace as she berated some more before sending you off to change. All you could do was grin and bear it. Even if you didn’t feel like you had it in you to pull on a fake smile and tend to your special guests.
But that was your job as a hostess. It paid well, though sometimes it almost didn’t feel worth it with the snooty customer base you had to face, but between rent and your school tuition, you literally couldn’t afford to be picky.
Even if you didn’t have the energy to put up with these rich assholes, at least you didn’t have to pull a shift at Paradise after this. You just had to pull yourself together for a few hours, and then you could go home.
You change into a little black dress and switch out your sneakers for a pair of tall heels. It wasn’t exactly a ‘uniform’ uniform, but your second job still has a certain look and aesthetic to maintain. The dress hugged your curves in all the right places, and you can’t help but feel eyes on you as you make your way back to the hostess table up front, heels clicking.
Dionysus was in full swing, each white-clothed table crowded and buzzing, and you watched as people clinked glasses under the chandeliers. But at your post, you kept your eye on the empty room in the back.
Whoever your guests were tonight, if they were truly a big deal, you’d escort them to have their meal in that private room.
Once the opening crowd thins out, the evening goes by slowly for you, and before you know it, you’re sneaking a peek at your phone, trying not to keep your boredom at bay.
There were a couple texts from Hyuna and a picture she sent of herself and the girls at Paradise.
[6:15pm] Babygirl: I’m so BORED when you’re not here🥺
[ 6:16pm]You: Sameeee. Don’t have fun without me!
[6:18pm] Babygirl: You know it’s boring when you’re not here! Miss you tonight 💕
You heart the message, missing her too.
Still no messages from Yoongi.
All his silence does is confirm the feeling in your gut and fuel the quiet resolve to make a decision.
You’re so busy ruminating that you don’t even realize you have guests in front of you until someone clears their throat in front of you.
“Act like you have some sense. The reservation for the Kim Corporation is here.”
You shove down your disdain for your boss and put on your best smile, ready to greet your new guests. Only when you look up do you realize it’s not a new guest after all.
Kim Seokjin stood in front of you, handsome as ever. His fringe frames his face, drawing your attention to his dark eyes and immaculate suit. You could tell from the quality of his clothes that it was expensive, but the white button-down left open on his chest said that looking flawless was effortless on his part. His brows furrowed at the sight of you, but then the confusion cleared, and in its place, Seokjin fixed you with a dazzling white smile and said: “It’s you.”
You barely have time to recover from the blow before you fix your smile in place (the one you use strictly for work; polite and friendly) and greet his party.
“Welcome to Dionysus, Mr.Kim. It’s a pleasure to have you dine with us tonight.”
Seokjin blinked at your formal demeanor, not expecting your casual dismissal of his recognition. But you don’t react—you can’t. No one here knew of your other life, and you planned on keeping things this way.
“Please follow me; I’ll direct you towards our private dining experience.” You quickly turned on your heel, walking forward without sparing so much as a second glance towards him. But you can sense his eyes on you, that hot, molten feeling rising in your body as you lead the party toward the back.
When you stopped before the table, Seokjin pulled out the chair closest to your position, trying to address you once more. “It’s nice to see you again.”
You maintain your plastic smile. “You must be mistaken, Sir; we haven’t met. I’ve heard this is your first time visiting Dionysus.”
“You mean to tell me we haven’t met before?”
“I’m afraid not, sir.”
Seokjin raised an eyebrow, but your facade didn’t waver. If anything, your eyes seemed to embolden, daring him to question your professionalism. You’re so calm and cool that if it were anybody else, Seokjin might have believed himself to be mistaken. But he knows he’s not. As if he could forget your face after last night.
So that’s how you wanted to play this? Fine. Two could play that game. He’d get your attention one way or another.
“Excuse me, I have a special request,” asked Seokjin, successfully grabbing your supervisor’s attention. “Your hostess is so lovely. Is there any way that she could tend to our table tonight?.”
Your eyes widen in shock for a split second, not anticipating this outcome. “I’m sorry, I’m not a part of the waitstaff—”
“—Absolutely,” Your boss cut in. “I’m sure (Y/n) would like nothing more than to take care of your party personally.”
At the mention of your name, Jin’s eyes widened. He simply wanted you near, but his request seemed to come with a little gift now that he knew your name.
The realization must have dawned on you simultaneously since the look on your face is a mix of shock and rage. Jin finds the combination amusing, and he can’t keep the satisfied smirk on his lips, knowing he sneakily earned another night with you.
Serves you right for trying to ignore him. Seokjin gave you a look, cocky and full of ego, relaying this very thought.
You wanted to wipe his smug smirk off. Asshole. You haven’t waited tables since your first year in college, and now, because this guy batted his pretty eyes, you’re right back where you started?
Who does this guy think he is?
You’re beyond annoyed, but all you can do is plaster on another fake smile and join the servers at the table. Thankfully, you’d served with everyone working the table before, so getting back into the flow of things was easy.
You fell into step from memory; everything returned to you from years of practice waitressing. You reached past Seokjin to fill his wine glass, and the asshole had the nerve to look up and smile at you.
You smile back, of course, even though you’re silently fuming, but your eyes tell a different story. You let Seokjin see it, all the anger buried underneath the polite mask as you pour.
But Seokjin’s smile didn’t flinch, didn’t falter. You swear his smile only brightened, the grin spreading across his handsome face.
You didn’t realize you had overfilled his glass until you heard the scrap of his chair across the floor when he jumped back from the table.
You were so distracted you poured the wine right into his lap. But he didn’t have to know that. Even though it wasn’t your intention, you’re more than happy to claim the credit for his displeasure.
“My apologies, Sir,” you said with a smirk.
Seokjin glared at you in response. Now that the shock was gone, you had to stifle a laugh behind your hand seeing his pouty face.
Your boss hissed your name, eyeing you with a tilted head at the mess you were in no rush to clean up.
“Let me help you with that,” you sighed. You bent down, picking up a spare napkin off the table. You dipped it in water and mindlessly dabbed at the spill on his suit.
You were already so close before you realized your mistake. You could smell the heated spice of Seokjin’s cologne, and you were just a breath away from that dazzling face. Just as close as you were the first night you met. The memory of it flashes through your mind—the warmth of his palm cupping your cheek like you were his lover. It’s enough to make your breath hitch.
You met his eyes, and the depth of his dark pools told you you weren’t the only one thinking of your first night together. Seokjin’s gaze dipped, looking at your lips as he wet his own.
It’s that small action that brings you back. What were you doing? Surely you weren’t about to kiss the stranger in the middle of a job? Quickly, you removed your hand from his lap, clearing your throat as you backed away.
Your mind felt hazy, and you knew who was to blame. But what you wouldn’t understand was the fact that Seokjin had any effect on you at all.
You knew it wasn’t his status; you often came across rich men in your work. His looks were unparalleled, but you rarely found attraction towards a pretty face last if you hadn’t liked their personality.
And you didn’t like him, right? No. He wasn’t your type at all. Still, you couldn’t deny the pull felt whenever he was in your presence.
For the rest of the night, you completed service for the party away from Kim Seokjin. Dinner went on in a daze. And before you knew it was closing time. The Kim Party stayed the whole night, which was tiring, but the generous tip they left did lighten your spirits as you exited the building.
You’re halfway out the door, eagerly awaiting a night alone in your apartment, when you hear someone call out your name.
“(Y/n).”
It’s Seokjin. You looked up to find him leaning back against a luxury SUV. “Or should I call you Angel? Both names suit you quite well.”
Dammit. In the heat of the moment, you forgot all about your boss giving away your name. If your two lives weren’t crossed over before, they certainly were now.
You’ve half a mind to ignore him and pretend you didn’t hear him in the first place, but ultimately, you decided to deal with it before things get more out of hand.
You walked up towards him. “Look, I’d appreciate it if you kept that name to yourself.”
“Which name?” He teased, eyes glinting at you in the dark. “They’re both very pretty.”
“I mean it. People don’t know about my other job here.”
“So you live a double life? That’s sexy.”
“It’s not as sexy as you think,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s actually really hard, so don’t make it any harder for me.”
Seokjin tilted his head to the side, studying you. You put up a good front, coming up to him acting all demanding. But he could see the vulnerability underneath it all; a part of you was worried.
“I wouldn’t dream of making anything more difficult for you,” he said, earnestly hoping to put your mind at ease. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
“Oh…” You weren’t expecting him to acquiesce so quickly. You honestly thought he’d be the type of jerk to tease you and hold it over your head like earlier. But Seokjin immediately respected your boundary; you didn’t even have to put your foot down.
“Thank you,” you said awkwardly.
“Of course.”
His behavior took you off guard, but you couldn’t lose focus. Your name wasn’t the only reason you approached him.
“Um, also, while you’re here, I’d like to give you this back,” you said, reaching into your bag for the envelope. You help it out for him to take. “Thank you for the tip, but I can’t accept this.”
Seokjin stared at your hand. “That was a gift.”
“It’s too much,” you added as if that held any weight.
“I haven’t to politely disagree. I enjoyed myself, and I value your time. I think the amount reflects that.”
“I can’t accept it.”
“Can’t? Or won’t.”
“Okay, I won’t accept it. Take it back.”
“No.”
“Seokjin.”
“(Y/n).”
“Why are you making this so difficult?”
“Love, you’re the one making this difficult.”
“Look,” you said, frustrated at the conversation. “I’m not in the mood for games. I don’t know what your expectations are. But I’m not that kind of girl.”
Seokjin shook his head. “I’m not following…”
“Well then, let me make it clear to you. I said. I’m not that kind of girl.”
You were all up in his face, eyes full of fire, and Seokjin couldn’t help but like it. For a man in his position, very few people had the confidence to speak to him like that. He at once found it incredibly attractive and entertaining, watching you sass him with your neck craned as he looked down at you.
Clearly, you meant to be intimidating, but all Seokjin could think about was how sexy you looked when you were assertive.
“You didn’t read my letter, did you?”
“The letter is irrelevant; I don’t care how rich you are—you can’t buy me.”
“I think you are mistaken. I’m not trying to buy you, (y/n).”
You didn’t buy it. If there was anything you learned in life, it was that nothing ever came free. There was always a price. And this man came from a world where money ruled supreme.
“Then what do you want?”
You. It was the first thing that entered Seokjin’s mind. The thought took him by surprise. It’d been a while since he felt this attracted to anyone. And he certainly didn’t know what he was doing waiting after dinner to talk to you. Something was there, but he knew better than to voice this new feeling aloud.
Instead, he told a partial truth. “I don’t know,” he said, shrugging. “That night…. I’ve never seen someone move like that. The way you dance...You captivated me. You were like a goddess.”
You wanted to be mad at him. You really did. But you couldn’t help but feel yourself flush at the compliment and the sincerity in his voice. Men flirted with you often. It was a hazard of the job, but not like this. You’ve heard men highlight your body before, but no one ever mentioned the way you dance with awe in their voice, not just lust.
“It’s only natural to give an offering as your patron,” said Seokjin, winking at you.
Your body betrayed you then, a flush that heated you up. Get a grip! You thought. You weren’t some lovesick teen. You were grown. You would not be swayed by some rich asshole’s stupid flirting.
“Well, I don’t need your money. Here,” you said, thrusting it out in front of you. “You can have it back. I don’t want to owe you anything.”
“You don’t owe me. I wanted to give it to you,” said Seokjin, stepping closer to you. “I think you deserve a lot more, to be honest.”
Seokjin placed his hand over yours, firmly keeping the envelope in your grip. “It was a gift. Nothing more, nothing less. Keep it.”
You’re so close Jin could smell you; your skin is warm and sweet, and your perfume was sultry and floral. Seokjin could drown in it. The scent clouded his senses and, clearly, his judgment because he closed what little distance sat between him and you. Here, he had a front row to your beautiful eyes, and those plush lips, and the only thing running through his head was what it would be like to kiss you.
Seokjin looked at you, really looked at you, and this time, he noticed you were not startled. Your pupils are blown, your chest rising quickly—he’d bet anything that whatever it is going on with him, you felt it too.
But again, you pulled away.
You took a step back to give yourself space and clear your head. Any longer, and you might have kissed him for real. And even though you and Yoongi were barely a thing and planned on ending things, you hadn’t ended them yet. Even though Seokjin had you wanting to cross all kinds of boundaries—you weren’t about to cross that line.
“I um,” You stuttered, “I really can’t convince you to take it back?”
Jin considered your question. “I’ll tell you what,” he said. “I’ll take the money back in exchange for a date.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. Was he really asking you on a date? “How is that appealing to me? That’s just swapping one problem for another.”
“It would be the best day of your life.”
“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”
“I’m not hearing a no.”
You sighed. “I don’t want to give you the wrong impression. I’m seeing someone. And even if I wasn’t—”
“Are you exclusive?”
“Well, no—”
“—Then I have a chance?” Said Seokjin, taking a step closer to you. He smiled again, and this time, his eyes crinkled at the corners, and you felt the warmth of his gaze flush all over you.
“I, um—”
Seeing you stutter, Seokjin’s smile brightened. “I do have a chance.”
Stupid, damn feelings.
“You have no chances,” you said, barely recovering from the brilliant attack on your heart. “Because I don’t date clients, remember?” You let words settle between you, their weight grounding you back to reality.
“And now you’ve also popped up at my day job?”
“A charming coincidence, I promise,” said Seokjin, placing a hand over his heart.
“Hmm. Well, I guess I’ll keep your money after all.” Even if he was the most handsome man you’d ever met, you were an adult. Your better judgment kept you from crossing that line.
Seokjin smirked. “Good.”
Good? You narrowed your eyes at him. He looked a little too pleased with your decision. “Did you only propose that because you knew, I’d say no and keep the money?”
“No,” he said, leaning toward entrancing you again with a close-up view of his superior good looks. “I hoped you’d say yes. But I’ll take the consolation prize.”
“Besides, I’m rich,” laughed Seokjin. “It’s not like I need more money.”
And just like that, the moment of infatuation passed. Seokjin was back to being a rich asshole. Perfect. You could work with that.
You backed away from him, heading for your car. “Goodnight, Seokjin.”
“Goodnight, (Y/n)”
It’s not until you’re sitting in your car, catching your reflection in the rearview mirror, that you realize you’ve got a stupid grin on your face.
Immediately, you stopped, catching yourself. It felt nice to be admired and flirted with, but what was your problem? Why were you smiling about some random stranger when you had a—
The bright ping of your phone went, and you reached inside your purse to check your texts.
[9:06pm] Yoongi: Missed you at Paradise tonight? Can I stop by later?
Speak of the devil…Of course, Yoongi would contact you now.
You didn’t owe him any loyalty, but that didn’t mean you felt comfortable talking to other guys. But still, why?
Yoongi wasn’t your boyfriend. So why were you giving him the boyfriend treatment?
“Are you exclusive?”
“Well, no—”
“—Then I have a chance?”
You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. Why were you thinking about Seokjin’s words earlier? He wasn’t even a dating option, but he did have a point.
For all intents and purposes, you were practically single, so why were you acting coupled up again?
You look at the three little dots bubbling up from your lack of response. How long were you going to keep doing this? Repeating the same cycle over again?
No. No more.
You fired off a text back: I can’t, busy, then threw your phone on the seat and started up your engine before you could change your mind
The cycle ends right now. You wouldn’t spend the rest of your twenties going back and forth with some guy who only ever wanted to sleep with you.
You’re young. You’re hot. You didn’t have to sit around and wait for some guy to want you. You could get a date with anyone you wanted, hell, even a millionaire!
For a minute, even though tonight was an inconvenience, you’re grateful you ran into Seokjin just for that reminder.
The next time you see Yoongi, you know what you need to do.
You’re ending things up with him. For good.
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Seven Several Sentences Sunday
Fanonwriter2023 on AO3
Where CANON and FANON collide!
This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!
Season 7 FANON Speculation: Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - Hiatus Reading: “I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”
Chapter 16 will be posted tomorrow.
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Currently 15 chapters completed: 487.0K Words Rated: Mature
One chapter will be posted at a time.
My plan is to post Chapter 16 tomorrow after I finish editing and proofing it.
I'm excited to finish this chapter because there are so many things happening for Buck and Eddie and the Diaz Family. For anyone who hasn't read Chapter 15, here's a brief overview: Buck and Eddie got engaged and they spent the morning after they proposed discussing when and where they're going to get married. They'll tie the knot before Christmas 2023 but they aren't getting married in the U.S. and they won't have a wedding ceremony until May 2024. They think Chris is the only person who knows they're together but several people have witnessed their romantic and emotionally intimate moments including Bobby, Chimney and Athena.
Who else is going to realize they're together in Chapter 16?
___________
Here's some more Buck and Eddie romantic fluff from Chapter 16 as they discuss how being apart is filled with sorrow.
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After he breaks the kiss, his eyes fill with tears and in a voice full of emotion he says, “I’m going to miss you!”  He wasn’t expecting to cry this early in the morning but he doesn’t care because he means every word of the things he’s saying to his fiancé.
He inhales then he allows the words to escape his lips unbidden.  “I don’t want you to go because I always miss you when we’re apart.”  He leans his forehead against Buck’s and whispers, “I’ll be glad when we’re living under the same roof because I want you here with me all the time”.
When he leans back, he meets Buck’s eyes again and one of his tears escapes but Buck catches it and wipes it away with his thumb.
Buck’s breathless because he feels it too and even though they’re still standing right in front of each other with their arms wrapped around the other one’s waist, saying goodbye to the love of his life is always difficult and he dislikes it just as much as Eddie does.  He’s never known love like this and it literally takes his breath away every time he has to leave 4995 S. Bedford St.  It’s their home and all three of them will be living together after his move from the loft is complete in a few weeks.
He leans in and kisses Eddie again and he hopes the feeling of their lips being pressed together while their tongues become tangled in sweet bliss will last him until they see each other again in four days.
After he pulls back, he talks against Eddie’s lips.  “I miss you so much when we’re not together.  Friday is a long way off and I know we’ll talk on FaceTime but it’s not the same.”
“You’re right, it’s not because I can’t hold you in my arms, I can’t listen to your heartbeat and I...”
What is Eddie going to say next? 👀
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Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it.  But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.
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Chapter Summaries
Chapter 1 - Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.
Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.
Chapter 3 - After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.
Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.
Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.
Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.
Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago.  They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are the foundations of a long-lasting love relationship.
Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.
Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial.  But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.
Chapter 10 - As Buck and Eddie finally begin to confront their past traumas, they realize how much they need each other to fill in the gaps of their memories.  Additionally, the universe screams at them for what appears to be the one hundredth time so Buck can realize he doesn’t have to ‘find it’ because he already ‘made it’ and Eddie’s reminded tomorrow isn’t promised and he doesn’t have to die alone if he doesn’t want to.
Chapter 11 - A “virga” or dry thunderstorm is in the forecast but once the rain starts, the thunderstorm happening outside won’t be able to match the storm brewing inside between Buck and Eddie.  It’s the universe’s final scream and when the tumultuous winds begin to blow, they’ll have one last chance to hold onto everything they’ve built over the last six years or they’ll lose it all forever.
Chapter 12 - Buck and Eddie have always shared a deep physical attraction and an emotional intimacy that’s unmatched but now that they’re in a relationship, they’re learning how to navigate the romantic intimacy they’ve been waiting for six years to explore. The love they have for each other is a once in a lifetime, soulmate, love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time.
Chapter 13 - While navigating the newness of their romantic relationship, Buck and Eddie take advantage of every moment they spend together. As their individual lives, people from their pasts, time constraints and the possibility of losing each other again make attempts to interrupt and interfere with their journey to forever, they love, care for, support and hold onto each other even tighter to withstand it all.
Chapter 14 - Buck and Eddie can see the lights at the end of the tunnels regarding the results of Buck’s Cancer Screening along with everything else they’re dealing with. But are the lights they see exits to the tunnels or are they headlights on different runaway trains that are speeding towards them in an effort to interrupt their forever?
Chapter 15 - Buck and Eddie have known they were exactly who the other one wanted in a partner since they met six years ago when they agreed to have each other’s backs. They’re in a romantic relationship, they’re both preparing to ask the other one to spend forever with them and by the end of the seventh week into their relationship, together they will plan their most important and greatest adventure for their future.
Chapter 16 - Will be posted soon.
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Read chapters 1-15 are available on AO3.
Continue reading on AO3
Chapter 16 will be posted tomorrow.
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pedroscurls · 1 year
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Title: The Teacher (Part 8).
CHAPTER TITLE: Ellie’s Truth
Character(s): Joel Miller, Reader, Ellie Miller Summary: You find out the truth about Ellie. Word Count: 2,115 Author's Note: I just want to thank everyone for still sticking with this story. I didn’t expect to take a hiatus, but a lot of (very difficult) moments in my life came up in the month of April. I’m glad to be back, glad to be writing again, and I hope you all enjoy.  Warning: None.
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You were walking towards your home when you noticed Ellie running straight to her little makeshift home with Joel trailing behind her, calling her name to no avail. 
Earlier that morning, Joel had walked into your house, concerned and frazzled that Ellie had left in the middle of the night and only leaving a note. While the two seemed to be in a heated argument, you were glad that they were both okay. 
“Joel? Everything okay?” You asked, seeing him look over at you when he finally noticed you.
“No.” Joel replied, not bothering to stop as he continued walking towards his own home.
That was new. Usually, Joel would greet you, give you a kiss, even if he had a tough day, but this felt different. While Joel and Ellie had their fair share of arguments, this one seemed to be more serious. You hadn’t ever seen Ellie that angry before.
You sighed to yourself, though. You didn’t want to pry or push the issue, so you kept walking to your home and up the steps of your porch. “Well, I’m here if you need anything, Joel.” You saw him give you a quick nod before he disappeared into his home. Walking inside your own, you shut the door behind you and made your way to the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water. However, before you could even grab yourself a glass, you heard a knock on your door. Expecting it to be Joel, you called out, “Come in!” 
Then, you heard her voice.
“God, I hate him! So much!” 
Ellie walked into your living, falling onto your couch. 
“Why does he always think he knows better?!” 
You poured water into two glasses, instead of one, and walked into the living room. “You wanna talk about it?” You asked, setting the glasses down on the coffee table and gently nudged her foot, motioning for her to sit up so that she could give you space to sit next to her. “I’m sure whatever he did, he had good intentions.”
Ellie shook her head immediately, sitting up and looking over in your direction. “Not this.”
“Well, he was worried when you left in the middle of the night, with just a note.”
“I needed to leave.”
“You could’ve gotten hurt, Ellie.”
“I’m immune!” She blurted out.
“What?” You asked, confused. “There’s no way that’s possible. What do you mean you’re immune?”
Ellie rolled up her sleeve, showing you the scarring beneath the newly drawn tattoo that Cat had been working on. It definitely looked like a bite mark, but as you glanced between the bite and Ellie, you noticed that Ellie hadn’t turned; she was fine. There was no hint of the bite mark taking its toll on her. You were at a loss for words – how was this possible?
“It’s old.” Ellie said, watching you closely. “The only ones who know are Joel, Tommy, and Maria.”
“Ellie, I don’t–” you sighed. “And you’re okay?”
“Considering everything, I guess.”
“I don’t even know what to say.” You admitted. “But I’m glad you’re okay.”
Ellie bit her lip, pulling her arm back and rolling the sleeve back down to cover the bite mark. “Joel– He was supposed to take me to the Fireflies,” she began. “They said– Marlene said they were going to make a cure and I would be the one to save the fucking world.”
You listened, watching the young girl pull her legs to her chest, resting her chin on her knees as she looked away from you. “After all we’ve been through, the people we lost, the people we hurt… And it was all for nothing.”
“What happened, Ellie?” 
Ellie shook her head, tears stinging her eyes. “Joel lied to me.”
“Ellie…”
“No, my life would have meant something!” She exclaimed, tears slowly falling from her face. “My life would have fucking mattered!” 
Your heart broke at the sight of Ellie breaking down, so you pulled her into your arms. She sobbed against you, surely staining your shirt with her tears. Her body trembled in your grasp and you simply tightened your arms around her.
“Your purpose in this life is not dependent on that,” you whispered softly. “Besides, who says you still can’t save the world?”
Ellie pulled back enough to look up at you. Confusion spread across her features. “What’s better than a cure?”
You shrugged. Ellie had a point, but making a cure in this world with limited resources? It was highly unlikely that it could have worked. 
“Listen, I won’t lie to you. A cure would be– It’d be great, but I’d rather live in this world with you in it than to live in a world without you.”
Ellie’s eyes softened and she hugged you so tight, holding onto you as if her life depended on it. 
“You find a new purpose,” you said, running your hand along her back. “And whatever that is, you put your all into it. You look down at your arm and you use that as a reminder of a second chance to do what you wanna do.”
“But,” Ellie mumbled. “What if I’m no good at what I choose to do?”
“Something tells me you’ll be good at anything you do, Ellie.” You smiled. “But if you fall, you get back up. No matter what, you always get back up.” You looked down at her, wiping her fallen tears. “This is your life, Ellie. You get to decide what you wanna do with it. No one else. Not the Fireflies. Not Joel. Not me. Only you, Ellie.”
She nodded, hugging you once more. Part of you felt sorry for Ellie – so young and she had been through so much, had been told most of her life what she was meant to do, what her life was supposed to mean, but another part of you understood why Joel did what he did – he had given Ellie the chance to live her life. 
“Can I stay with you tonight?”
“Sure, of course. How about you take my room and I’ll be out here?”
“Are you sure?” 
“Yes,” you smiled. “Now, why don’t you try to get some rest? You’ve been out all night.”
“You’re gonna talk to Joel, aren’t you?”
You nodded truthfully. “I’m sure he’s hurting too.”
“Good.”
Sighing, you shook your head. “Ellie…”
“I’m still mad at him.”
“I know, and you have every right to be, but I know deep down, you still care about him too.”
Ellie sighed, “unfortunately.”
“Okay, enough of that. Get some sleep. I’ll prepare some food and wake you once it’s done.”
Ellie stood from the couch and sighed. She grabbed the glass of water and looked over at you. “Thanks,” she said softly. “For not being weird about this and just… Just being there for me.”
You were on Joel’s doorstep, waiting for him to open the door after you knocked. When he finally opened the door, he was surprised to see you.
“Listen darlin’,” he sighed. “I just wanna be alone and–”
“Ellie told me. Now, can I come in?”
“Ellie told you?” Joel asked, slowly opening the door to let you in.
You walked inside, hearing the door close behind you. You looked around – nothing seemed out of the ordinary, the place wasn’t a mess, but you noticed a glass and a bottle of dark liquor on the coffee table. Joel didn’t drink often and when he did, it was always during dinner with family. If he went out to the Tipsy Bison, he would only have one, never indulging in more than that. And always, he drank beer. So, seeing the hard liquor on his table told you that this was affecting him more than you thought. 
“She’s immune,” you began, turning to face him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Joel shrugged. “Didn’t know if I could trust you and well, this…” He added, pointing between himself and you. “This is still a bit new.”
You nodded. You could understand exactly where he was coming from – he just wanted to protect Ellie.
“She’s gonna stay with me for the night. Is that okay?”
Joel sighed and walked towards the living room, taking the glass from the table and downing its contents. “I’d rather her be here.” He sat on the couch, glancing over at you.
“She’s upset, Joel,” you replied, following him and sitting across from him.
“She wasn’t ever supposed to find out.”
“Joel,” you sighed. “What happened?”
Joel shook his head. He couldn’t even look at you. Instead, his eyes were focused on his hands. He looked deep in thought with his brows furrowed; you hadn’t ever seen Joel look like this before. 
“Listen, whatever happened– I’m not judging. You did what you needed to do, but Ellie doesn’t see that. At least not right now.”
“You don’t–” Joel began, shaking his head. “You don’t know… I killed everyone in that hospital to save her.” 
“Joel…”
“I couldn’t lose another,” he whispered.
“Another?”
Joel didn’t respond. Instead, he just poured himself another drink. “You should go home, darlin’.”
“No.”
“No?”
“I know you’re used to me not prying, but this one affects Ellie.”
“I ain’t a good man and I meant that.”
“You saved Ellie, Joel…” You whispered. “What would have happened if you didn’t?”
“Marlene– She said the cordyceps spread, growing with Ellie as she got older… The only way for a cure to happen would cost Ellie’s life.” He said, slowly looking up at you. You noticed the look in Joel’s eyes – how could this man think he wasn’t good? There was sincere remorse for the things he had to do to save Ellie, but it also looked like this wasn’t the first time. This wasn’t the first time he lost someone he cared about.
“You chose Ellie… Over the possibility of saving the rest of the world?” 
Joel nodded. “And I would do it all over again if I had to.”
You opened your mouth to say something, but Joel interrupted you. His voice was quiet, almost as if he was afraid and hesitant of asking you this question, “Do you hate me because of it?”
“What?” You asked, surprised. “Hate you for saving Ellie?”
“Yeah,” Joel sighed.”
“Hell no, I don’t hate you.”
Joel looked up at you, his eyes wide as if he was expecting a different answer. “What?” 
“Joel,” you sighed. “Do you really believe a cure could have been made? In this world with so few resources?” You scoffed. You didn’t believe that the Fireflies and Marlene were willing to sacrifice a young girl’s life over the slim possibility of a cure. There was no way that they could have made a successful cure in one go, especially not in this world. 
“Y– You don’t think a cure could be made?”
You shook your head. “Nope.”
“But–”
“I wouldn’t have ever met you, or Ellie… I’d choose this world over the old one.”
“Why?”
You sighed quietly. Truthfully, you didn’t have the answer to that question, so instead, you stood up, took the drink out of his hands, and sat on his lap. Joel immediately wrapped his arms around you, burying his face against the crook of your neck. Your arms wrapped around his broad frame, gently rubbing his back.
“When I lost my husband,” you whispered. “My life stopped. I loved him so much…” Tears clouded your eyes and you felt Joel tighten his arms around you, comforting you. “Going back to a world without him… Without you? I wouldn’t want it.”
“But I–”
“Yeah, I know. Ain’t a good man,” you repeated. “To me, you’re just a man protecting the ones you love and care about. If that isn’t good, then I don’t know what is.”
Joel looked up at you. His big, brown eyes were soft, staring lovingly at you. “How’d I get so lucky?”
“What do you mean?”
“You,” he whispered. “You still look at me like… Like I could do no wrong. I killed so many people and–”
“I just know how it feels… To lose someone you love and care about. If I was in your position, I would have done the same thing.” You admitted. “Ellie will be okay–”
“But things are gonna be different,” Joel interrupted.
“Yeah,” you replied. “But give her time.”
Joel sighed. Part of him didn’t care that Ellie was upset with him because it meant that she was still here, still safe, still alive.
“It’ll all be okay,” you whispered reassuringly, softly placing your lips on his temple. 
You heard Joel inhale deeply, then quietly whisper with a shaky voice, “I had a daughter. Her name was Sarah.”
---
Part 9.
Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be tagged!): @rye-flower, @3zae-zae3, @orangevtae, @flippittygibbitts, @blairfox04, @ohthemisssery, @avengersfan25, @somebodytookmyusername, @littleshadow17, @beltzboys2015-blog, @swimmjacket, @corpsebridenightamare, @thelightnessofthebeing, @dorck26, @ashlynn-crayons, @sexytholland, @surazim, @cedricbitch, @cali-ko, @lasthongos, @impala1967666​, @sana-li, @coldheartedmar​
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smokingtiger · 5 months
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WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT DELUSIONAL SHIPPERS/SOLOS (AGAIN)
Hello again, it's me! I know you guys haven't (properly) heard from me in a while and I want to say that I've been incredibly busy and will probably continue to be busy until I know what my schedule looks like come January. But anyways, enough about me, I just wanted to say that I have come across DEEPLY DISTURBING rhetoric spread about Jimin as of late and I wanted to bring it to your attention!
It seems that during this solo era, many solos on every platform have increasingly grown, whether it be in number or in appearance. Now although I don't really understand being a solo stan, as long as the person is not outwardly calling for BTS' disbandment, hating on any particular member, or spreading rumors that are not true -- I have little to find an issue with. But I will say that during this band 'hiatus' and solo journey, the amount of hysteria surrounding certain members has gotten crazy -- ESPECIALLY IN THE SHIP SPACE.
Once again, the target seems to be Jimin. I swear this boy is too sweet for this ugly world...
Anyways, once again I'm going to be talking about delusional taekookers/taekooker solos -- and once again, may I remind you that when I refer to 'delusional' shippers, I am not talking about people who find taekook cute, people who ship taekook, or people who have their suspicions/theories, I'm talking about the people who put on a tinfoil hat every day and spew lies in an attempt to pass them off a truth. People who try to make a meal meant for twenty off of nothing but crumbs. Theories are theories, but they are NOT the truth. They should never be promoted as such, nor worded in a way to encourage people to wholeheartedly believe in them.
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Enlistment "Drama"
What I find to be the worst part about this entire debacle is that people cannot just let Bangtan be -- everything has to be about a ship, everything has to be about this or that. This is an incredibly difficult process that every Korean man is subjected to -- and not by choice. The fact that Jimin and Jungkook can go together at all is a MIRACLE, especially since the companion system runs on a lottery-type system. We should be celebrating that they have someone familiar to cling to during this major life change. Anyone who claims 'fanservice' seriously needs to get the fuck out. This is REAL LIFE. Get a fucking grip. Now let's think logically for two seconds... why on earth would Jungkook and Jimin subject themselves to supposed 'fanservice' for eighteen months when
them being selected for the companion system was not even a guarantee (no exceptions, no favoritism from the SK government)
they'll be completely isolated from the outside world for eighteen months, therefore having no reason to 'show off'
deliberately selecting one of the more strenuous units when they could've done something less taxing
being upset that the press released the information regarding their enlistment/location, among other things
Being exposed as queer in the South Korean military is NOT a benefit; it actually can serve as a social detriment
Instead of thinking about this through the lens of shipping, why don't we look at this from the view that, maybe, JUST MAYBE, the two of them have been very close/good friends for over a decade and decided that this was the best approach moving forward? People started talking about how their company was forcing taekook apart all for fanservice and that they were sending Jungkook in with a 'mentally ill person'. These people even tried to report Jimin to the fucking military ministry. If Taehyung wanted to apply with Jungkook through the buddy system, he could've. But he didn't. That doesn't prove nor disprove any ship. It just means they were making decisions they thought was best for them because... the military is no fucking joke. They are the PROPERTY OF THE SOUTH KOREAN STATE. Let me repeat: THEY ARE PROPERTY. OF THE. SOUTH KOREAN. STATE. Trying to avoid this results in PRISON TIME.
This isn't some quirky summer camp... and the fact that toxic shippers and solos are making this into a fucking circus... it's just disgusting.
Do you really fucking think that Taehyung OR Jungkook approve and cosign that type of behavior towards one of their closest friends? Do you really think that?
Just take a look at this conversation. This is beyond ship wars... these people need to get some serious help. A ship like this should NEVER drive you to this much resentment and trauma.
Also, let us take into account that Jimin is very close friends with Taemin from SHINee. Taemin suffered from harassment (reportedly in the showers) while he was in the military. Given their similar personas (a very fluid presentation), perhaps Jimin felt that having a friend could help prevent him from experiencing that same type of harassment from other people. Perhaps Jungkook also had anxieties regarding that and also sought Jimin for a type of protection as well.
Why are you making this poor boy your personal punching bag? The fact that some shippers think that they know Jimin/Jungkook better than they know themselves... They had to personally file for this, and select where they wanted to go. There was no manipulation from higher-ups, Jungkook is not being TORTURED by going with Jimin. Also, I'm sure Taehyung is just as heartbroken to be separated from Jimin (may I remind you, is his BEST FRIEND), Jungkook, and Namjoon. These boys are his family.
These people are lost causes, they obviously have lost their grip on reality entirely. Also, the fact that solos are sending BUSES to the training camps after the boys got on their knees to BEG people not to come. These people are not fans, they are sasaengs with little regard for human emotion.
If your obsession with RPS has gotten this bad, go to fucking therapy. Get off the fucking internet. Unstan BTS and the boys entirely. This is not okay, this is plain insanity.
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Also, if you guys are looking for something to laugh at during all of this, here's an ARMY who turned a video of a toxic tkkr/jimin anti crying over the enlistment process into a Jimin edit.
TRIGGER WARNING: FLASHING !!
The jimin anti/toxic tkkr deactivated, but I did get a screenshot of what they said over the crying video.
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until next time.
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