#everything is still very open but design is like the key word for everything im interested in lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

majorblinks · 2 years

Text

we could call it even (twice nayeon)

(smut, idol Nayeon, car sex [oral], semi-public sex, choking, fluff, angst [kind of], 12k words)

For the record, it’s been seven years since you last saw Im Nayeon in the flesh.

You don’t really like to think about it: about being sixteen and getting the news that your best friend in the whole world - the person who’d been by your side as long as you could remember, the person who’d been there for every single significant event in your life, who you’d been with through tears and failed tests and shitty high school relationships and nights spent at the beach in your hometown, running right into the waves the moment school let out - was heading off to chase her dream, to become wildly, unimaginably famous, which meant that you probably wouldn’t see her again for a very, very long time.

“It might not even go anywhere,” Nayeon told you, wrapped up in a towel, the two of you huddled together on the beach, stars glimmering overhead. “I might - I mean, it’s totally possible that I’m going to fail miserably.”

“You won’t,” you said, wistful, because you were acutely aware that Im Nayeon - gorgeous and charismatic and talented beyond belief, even then - was meant for so much more than anything she could get in your town. “There’s no chance you’re going to fail.”

Nayeon glanced over at you, bottom lip caught between her teeth, eyes glassy, and you already both knew that things would never be the same.

So - that’s where it ends, really, or at least where it should. She left, and got famous, and you stayed, and went to college. She didn’t keep in touch, because she couldn’t, and you didn’t expect her to. You stayed and you loved her and you understood.

It’s not like you haven’t been keeping up with her, though.

See, she’s everywhere: magazines, social media, on the radio, playing over the speakers in every store - there’s that voice, that perfect face, that body in form-fitting gowns and slinky designer dresses, caught by paparazzi in jeans and crop tops - now she’s all grown up, and a superstar, and so breathtakingly beautiful you do a double take every time you see her. Snapshots of her on red carpets, music videos; Nayeon’s present all the time, even when she’s not with you. You’ll be okay with it, you think. Not everything’s meant to last forever. Sometimes, it’s just a moment, but it’s enough.

Your childhood best friend, taking the world by storm; you, behind the scenes, always cheering her on. Like you said, that’s where it all should end. Call it there - give it a clean break. It’s what you both deserve.

It’s all over, except you’re in grad school, and it’s winter break, and by some miracle, you’re both in your hometown at the same time.

You don’t know it right away. You’re too caught up in the stunning nostalgia of your childhood bedroom, which is so deeply saturated with Nayeon’s presence that it’s almost like she’s still there - almost like she never left. It’s the pictures, it’s the candle on your nightstand that she bought for you, graphic t-shirts in your dresser that she used to steal; being here is like cracking open a time capsule, playing a supercut of the two of you, a short film cutting off right before the end. It’s more than a little bit suffocating, this kind of history spread out right in front of you, but you’ll deal. You always have.

You’ve been here for a day, and you’re still settling in. It’s a sleepy afternoon, chilly in mid-winter, but the sun’s out, and the sky’s clear and cloudless. You step outside with your keys in your hand, about to go for a drive - there are ways to seek out nostalgia without drowning in it; you’re thinking old streets, movie theaters, coffee shops-

You stop short, confused.

You don’t actually make the connections, at first. Look, you were never close with Nayeon’s family: for all you know, they could’ve moved away years ago; you wouldn’t be surprised. And there’s no reason for her to be here - so it’s a fleeting thought, flickering out like a light.

Plus, the girl you see right now, loitering by the car parked in the driveway of the house across the street, has long, silky blonde hair, catching in the sun like a halo. So - there’s no chance, you’re thinking, no way: it’s some new neighbor, or, like, a criminal - well, she’s tiny, she’s unassuming, so probably not that, but still-

The girl keeps leaning in, mumbling to herself, checking the back left tire.

“Oh, shit,” she says, suddenly, and then lands a very ill-placed kick to the tire with her shoe.

It’s a bad choice. It must hurt, because she gasps, tips to balance herself on the car - you notice her nails, which are these ridiculous acrylics, talon-sharp and with swirly white patterns - and you can’t see her expression, but her head ducks, swivels fast, glancing from her shoe to the tire, and then-

“Shit,” she says, again, and she bursts out laughing - and that's when you realize it.

Even from all the way across the street where you can’t see her face, even though this girl is blonde and there’s zero fucking chance she should be here right now, kicking her parents’ car with one of her beat-up leather boots - it’s all in that laugh, ringing brilliantly in the air like the music she makes. It's been seven years, and it’s still her.

“Nayeon,” you call. It’s not a question. You've never been more sure of yourself.

She turns, and - God - it’s like everything kicks into sudden slow motion, blurs, sharpens; you see her like you're seeing her for the first time, and in an instant, it's all in perfect clarity.

There’s that face: the one across billboards, album covers, the one in every photograph you have from high school, pressed close to yours - and abruptly it’s like you can’t even breathe, looking at her. Oh, none of the pictures do her justice, but you already knew that: she’s unbelievable, and right in front of you, and so, so real.

It’s something straight out of a movie, out of some fantasy, a far-off dream. Nayeon stands, straightens, stares, stares-

Then, casual to the point of comedy, she says, “Hey.”

And it’s all so easy: like it hasn’t been years since you two have spoken, like you might be sixteen again and preparing to corral her to your side so you two can go to the beach - so natural, like nothing has changed at all. Nayeon props a hand on her hip, gestures to the car, asks, “Does this tire look flat to you?”

You'll play along. Hey, you always did. “Um,” you say, from the sidewalk, grinning like an idiot. “I’m not an expert or anything, but - yeah, it does look kind of fucked up, huh?”

“Kind of,” agrees Nayeon.

“Yeah.”

Nayeon doesn’t even look at the tire; doesn’t take her eyes off of you for even a second. She’s so insanely, impossibly beautiful - and then her full lips crack to a smile, flashing her teeth at you, radiant enough to rival the sun.

“Hey,” she says, again, except now her voice is thick with emotion.

“Hey,” you echo, and wait.

It takes one beat, then two, and then Nayeon’s running at you, her laugh carrying on the wind. Her leather boots clap on the asphalt, her blonde hair streaming behind her, giving up every act, every attempt at playing it cool. It's just like her, around you again: you'll click right back into place like it's the only thing you were ever meant to do, and-

“Oh my god,” Nayeon exhales, and then she’s launching herself right into your arms.

For those few moments - those moments when you catch her around the waist, and her hands loop around your neck, and you hug her body close to you, half-drunk on the smell of her hair - she’s not Im Nayeon, global phenomenon; she’s your Nayeon, your best friend, your girl, yours. Yours, and she’s laughing that wonderful, infectious laugh, giddy like she knows it.

It’s been seven years - and then Nayeon pulls back, palms slipping to cup your cheeks, and it’s like it’s been no time at all.

“Oh my god,” she whispers again, reverent. “You…”

Her thumbs find the sides of your face, the dimples bracketing your mouth that she used to obsess over, and her words slip away into nothing. “Me?” you ask, teasing her. “You. That hair, Nayeon-”

“It fits me, right?” Nayeon’s tongue pokes out between her teeth, eyes sparkling. There’s something about her name on your lips: it makes her shiver, and you press your fingers into her hips, needing her closer - her chin’s tilted up at you, expression open, like she needs the exact same thing. “It’s for my new comeback. No one’s seen it yet.”

“Saving it for me?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You laugh out loud - the vulgarity. You can’t imagine she’s been able to be so profane in her day-to-day life, not in her line of work: she’s had to be pristine, this whole time, holding back with a camera-ready smile and a script. It’s something else, seeing her instead of her image. There’s something you’ll test later - what rules she’s ready to break, after all this time. You’ll get back to it.

Nayeon’s beaming, sunlight threading through her hair. She’s still got your face in her hands, and you’ve got your hands on her waist, and there are no boundaries like you’ve never spent any time apart. “You look so…”

She trails off, flushing prettily.

“I look so what?” you prompt, entertained.

“No,” says Nayeon, accusatorily. She pats your cheek with one hand, and there’s that charming glint of her front teeth in her grin - that’s a smile people’d pay just to see, and they have. “I’m not saying it.”

“You don’t have to,” you say, and pat her hip in retaliation. It gets another laugh from her, bright and pleased. “I know what you meant.” You grin, pull her closer, add, “Right back at you.”

You could kiss her and you don’t. Instead, you draw her into your arms, hug her body tight to yours, feel all the new, firm muscle where youthful softness used to be; everything seems so different, on the surface, and you’re both older and busier and there’s her blonde hair, her nails, how every part of her seems planned and curated, a trademark of the celebrity life - she’s in a cream-colored sweater and jeans and no makeup, and still looks permanently silver-screen perfect. It’s been years, and she’s grown into herself elegantly, beautifully. It’s been years, and she’s in your arms again, and she’s become everything she wanted to be and more.

Nayeon buries her face in your neck, and takes a few deep, shuddering breaths, trying to keep it together - and you realize that maybe some things never change.

See - against all fucking odds, really - you and Nayeon are never anything more than just friends.

There’s all this pretense, at first. You’ve spent basically all your lives glued to each other’s sides, right on the edge of codependence, but it’s high school, and it’s the status quo, so you both try dating other people. It’s not that it’s totally disastrous, or anything - it’s just that none of the relationships last, and none of them are as important as the two of you together.

“They’re so boring,” Nayeon complained to you one day, both of you in your living room, watching some movie, her feet kicked up in your lap. “Well - okay, maybe that’s not totally accurate. It’s just - every date I go on, I just think of how much more fun it would be if you were there.”

“Yeah,” you said, pinching her knee, earning a squeal from her. “You, me, and your boy toy of the week. It’d be a laugh riot.”

“Fuck off,” said Nayeon, nose wrinkling, staving off a smile. “No, I mean - if you were there instead of him.”

So - sure, it’s really obvious, and everyone who knows you two sees it too. It’s you, and it’s her, and no one else is ever really going to be able to compete.

The reason why you never say it out loud is because of the only thing bigger than how you feel about her: Nayeon’s ambitions, her goals, her passion and drive. She doesn’t belong in this town, with you. She’s got stars in those gorgeous eyes, dreams of glitz and glamour and fame - and if there’s one thing you know about Im Nayeon, it’s that she knows exactly what she wants and just how to get it. You sort of always know that one day she’s going to end up leaving you behind. You know that the thought of tying her down, shackling her to the streets of this town, to you - it makes you nauseous. Holding a girl like that back would be a mortal sin: the universe would never forgive you for it.

(You know it all the way up until the night before she leaves for good, when she kisses you at your front door, her suitcases already packed - it’s not the first time you’ve kissed her, and it certainly doesn’t feel like the last, but you know it’s all you’ve got for now.

Don’t forget about me, alright? Nayeon said, then, tears in her eyes, tears in yours.

Never, you said. I could never.

You didn’t tell her you loved her, because you wanted to have something to give her when she came back, no matter how long it took.)

You and Nayeon never actually date in high school, but somehow - as delightfully easy as breathing, as inevitable as the stars slipping right into alignment - you two end up falling in love anyway.

It’s seven years later, and your heart is hers, just the same way as it always has been.

“No one knows I’m here,” Nayeon tells you now, from the passenger seat of your car; turns out her tire actually is flat, so now you’re chauffeuring her around, basically - not like you’re complaining. “I’ve done a pretty decent job at keeping my childhood private - the general public cares a lot more about my present than my past.”

Plus, no one knows she’s blonde yet, you point out, not even her fans. “Because you were saving that for me,” you insist. “You wanted to get my opinion first.”

“Shut up,” says Nayeon, then softens, goes serious. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t sure if you’d even be here, you know.”

The truth is you haven’t been, for the most part. Your university’s around an hour and a half away, and you don’t visit as much as you should. But now you’re here, and she’s here, and you’ve been driving in circles for the past hour - going past your old school, the church, all the rich neighborhoods. It’d be too risky to actually go anywhere, so this is what you’ve got, and neither of you seem to mind.

“Hey,” you tell her, flick your blinker, hook a left. “I’m always going to be here.”

You’re not talking about the town. When you glance over at Nayeon, she’s got this tilt to her mouth, a telltale sign: she understands exactly what you mean.

You’re falling back into old rhythms, patterns. You go through a drive-through, and Nayeon studiously stares out the window the whole time, trying to cover her face with her hair - it’s an admirable attempt at staying incognito, considering anyone who takes a single look at those eyes and that dazzling smile is going to know exactly who she is.

“Smooth,” you say when it’s over, pulling into the parking lot. You’re splitting a giant coffee and it’s like you’re back in high school. “Were you just planning on holing up in your house the whole time you’re back? You can’t exactly go anywhere without being recognized.”

You both click your seatbelts off, and now Nayeon’s got her legs tucked to her chest, her cheek resting on the tops of her knees. “Honestly?” She waves her hand at you, glittering acrylics flashing - you tip the coffee towards her, let her sip from the straw. “I didn’t really plan any of this. I had time off for once, so I took it. It’s the holidays, so it was just…” She shrugs. “The most reasonable plan of action, I guess.”

“You could’ve gone anywhere,” you say; you’re fishing for something, and she knows it. “Like, way more fun places than this shitty town. Los Angeles. The Bahamas. Paris.”

“Sure.”

“So?” You set the coffee in one of the cup holders. “Why didn’t you?”

You and Nayeon were best friends for so long that you basically grew to share a brain, thoughts, opinions - there were those times you’d look at her and know exactly what she was thinking, those times where just a lift of her eyebrows or a curl to her lips could communicate whole sentences, sentiments - things with her have always been so natural, so instinctual. It should be awkward, after seven years, after her rise to fame and your lack thereof. There should be oceans between you, whole worlds. There should be stumbling, time to find footing, missteps and whatever thread always tied you two together at least frayed, if not snapped entirely.

There should be, but there isn’t. Nayeon’s always been able to read your mind just like you can read hers, and that’s not about to stop now.

“You don’t need me to answer that,” she says, gaze stuck on your eyes, your teeth, your throat. The two of you are just as inevitable as you always were, and she’ll prove it. “I think you already know.”

Like you said, you’ve kissed Nayeon before: too many times to count.

You don’t really have a logical explanation, for all of that. It’s just that when you were younger you two spent every waking moment together, and you two were deliberately, unusually touchy: you can’t even begin to fathom the amount of times your classmates ran into you and Nayeon in the halls, or at parties, and pointedly backed off like they thought they were interrupting something.

(Well, they kind of were - it’d be her with a grip on your forearm, her with her legs in your lap, you with an arm slung around her shoulders, her waist, caught up in some conversation that was only comprehensible to you two. It’d have killed you to be apart, back then, even though you always knew it was coming. You knew you’d be ripped apart, eventually. You took all the time you could get.)

The kissing - you can’t even blame that on alcohol, can’t fall back on cop-outs or excuses. It wasn’t like you two ever truly planned for it to go down like it did. Just - sometimes, you’d be looking at her, so filled with unbridled, uncontained affection, something you couldn’t even begin to put into words - you’d see her eyes, and the soft way she’d look at you, and it was like everything you’d wanted had already happened.

So that’s where it starts, really: you’d kiss her just to make a point, tilt her face towards yours, slot your lips together. If it were anyone else, they’d have freaked, called you insane; Nayeon just smiled afterwards, eyes shutting, content and understanding, the kind of knowing that comes with whatever cosmic connection that was obviously keeping you two tangled up together beyond repair - intertwined at the hands, at the heart.

You didn’t talk about it, because she was always leaving, even while she was right there with you. You could feel it, more than anything. You’ve always sort of been running out of time.

The point is - well, you’ve kissed her plenty of times, just to tell her how you felt without saying it out loud. Careful, and gentle, and with all the clear intention in the world.

(The point is, it’s all these years later, and you know exactly how it feels to watch Nayeon leave. The point is that you have nothing left to lose, so-)

You’ve driven around so long that it’s dark outside. You’ve talked for hours, recapping the past seven years as best you can, hanging on each other’s every word: going through friends and careers and drama and conflict in excruciating, meticulous detail, and you’re still not even close to being done. It’s pouring outside, raindrops coating the windshield, and Nayeon says, abruptly, “I’m leaving in a week.”

“Okay,” you say, and pull your car into the driveway.

It’s not a question, and it’s the opposite of tension. You park the car and step out, and she’s right there at the passenger side, rain soaking her blonde hair, dripping down her neck, staring at you. It’s pitch-black outside, but there are those eyes: luminescent, longing personified. She’s the most famous woman in the country - you’ve seen those eyes everywhere. It’s nothing compared to having her in front of you now.

“A week,” Nayeon says, again, shutting the car door. “That’s all we’ve got.”

It’s not a question, so you don’t answer it.

It all gets away from you, in a split second - time, and your mind, and all your inhibitions - you’re rounding the car, and then you’ve got your hands in her drenched hair. Your mouth’s inches from hers, and her lips are already parted - you think of deja vu, you think this has already happened, or it was already meant to - you think of crazy, impossible things, and then you kiss her.

Nayeon melts underneath you, like succumbing to a wound - no, it’s too soft to be that, too safe - like slipping between sheets, like finding rest and relief after months on your feet - it’s a thunderstorm after a drought, an oasis, a second chance - and she’s so small when you press her against the car, as her mouth opens, spine curving, hands finding the nape of your neck.

The energy between you is electric, a shock to a system: it’ll be an overload, if you don’t fuck her right now - it’s been too long, it’ll blow all the breakers. You need her and it’ll kill you if you don’t have her. “Nayeon,” you murmur, fingers tangling in her hair, hips trapping her to the car door-

Nayeon makes this otherworldly noise into your mouth, high and keening and needy, and for a beat you actually think you’re going to die.

“Your house,” gasps Nayeon, panting when she pulls back, the pressure from what feels like eons wanting you and being denied finally dropping to the pavement, washing away with the rain. “Is it - please tell me no one’s home.”

It’s the two of you, and every single star aligns, for once in seven years: call it a comet, an eclipse, something to capture and study and scrutinize. “No one’s home.”

There’s that moonlight, gleaming overhead, breaking through the clouds. It bathes Nayeon like it’s blessing her, like it sees the extraordinary life she’s led so far and deems her deserving of it - like it looks at you, and by some million-in-one chance, by some surreal string of fate, it deems you deserving of her.

(Maybe you are, then. Maybe you always were.)

“Okay,” says Nayeon, and her hand takes yours - for a moment, you swear she’d run away with you, leave it all behind. “Then let’s go.”

Somehow, in the dark, you still know her.

You stumble up to your bedroom and you never even make it to the light switch - the moon’s coming in through slats in your blinds, the rain’s a drum line, a soundtrack - and Nayeon’s peeling off your shirt, fumbling with her ridiculous nails at the button of your jeans.

“Don’t strain yourself,” you say, grinning, your hands finding the hem of her top. “Your company will crucify you if you fuck up that manicure.”

“Fuck you,” says Nayeon, and suddenly she’s laughing, a harmony to the growing storm outside. She pops the button, drags the zipper, slow like she knows she’s unraveling you in the process. “Fuck you. Fuck me.”

The rain’s got her soaked to the skin - you get her sweater off, and then her jeans, and she’s in this scarlet-red bra, matching panties - it’s an image straight out of all your wet dreams, and you can’t help but stare, mouth agape, fingers lingering at her hips. Nayeon’s too flawless to be real; she’s smirking at you like she knows it. She’s used to be ogled, stared at, lusted after: she’s used to people wanting to rip her apart, and she’ll act like it.

“Jesus christ,” you say, unable to tear your eyes off her body - there’s her collarbone, her tits, her smooth, toned midriff - her wet hair, her creamy thighs - it’s all there, just for you. No one else gets to see her like this, no eager fan or follower - just you.

“Right?” says Nayeon, breathless and amused, high on how you’re looking at her. “Red really is my color.”

Somehow the arrogance only heightens the mood, the overwhelming arousal steeping the room. Something about making a god learn manners, respect; something about taking a deity and putting her in her place. “That ego,” you consider, skating your nails up her back, stopping at the clasp of her bra.

“What about it?”

“No, nothing.” You unhook it, grin at the shaky breath it gets from her. “I just think you might need to get it fucked out of you.”

Nayeon’s used to being mythologized, idolized, painted so perfect that everyone arounds her considers her something more than human, more than magic: she’s got hundreds of thousands of people ready to kneel at her feet, give her the world on a silver platter. She’s been spoiled, you think, tracing her body with your fingertips. She’s been treated like carved marble, behind glass and roped off, invulnerable, untouchable.

(But here you are, anyway: the one person on the planet who truly knew her before all that - before fame took hold of a girl and made her a legend. Before fame took the love of your life and let everyone else fall in love with her, too. Well, you’re not about to blame them; you never could.)

Nayeon’s staring at you, a challenge in her eyes, a sharp, secret violence in her smile.

“I don’t know about all that,” she says, “but you can try.”

It’s a dare, it’s a taunt - after all this time, and you’re still the only one who can match her beat for beat, touch for touch: there’s her bra, slipping to the floor, there’s your thumb over her nipples, hardening them to points, your teeth on her chest and leaving marks. She’s on your bed, her damp hair tumbling over one shoulder, the intoxicating ring of her irises like a shot in the dark.

“You don’t even know,” pants Nayeon, voice thick with heat, as you stroke her pussy through her panties. “You don’t even fucking know how long I’ve wanted this.”

“Oh,” you say, and pull her underwear to the side roughly - there’s that cunt, just for you, glistening and sopping wet and so, so ready - and a smirk finds your mouth, just off the brink of cruel. “I think I’ve got an idea.”

Nayeon’s so greedy, and you get it - she’s gotten everything she’s ever wanted for years and years, without question or hesitation - and she’s reaching for your hand, your fingers, needing you inside her in any way she can get you. She’s beyond wet; you already know she’s going to ruin your sheets, she’s gonna ruin something-

“Watch it,” you snap, grabbing her wrist so hard she yelps. “If you wanna get fucked, Nayeon, you need to behave.”

“Please,” Nayeon shoots back. The words tremble - she’s so turned on, she can’t hide it - but she’ll never back down from a fight. “I could get anybody to fuck me. I could walk out of here right now and have someone else’s dick in me in ten minutes.”

She’s rambling. You’re gonna bruise her wrist. Her tits heave as she tries to catch her breath, and when you brush against her pussy with your other hand, she lets out this gorgeous, weakened whimper - you’ve got her, you’ll make an example of a higher power, take an idol and make her human again.

“Sure.” Your fingers find her clit, teasing; Nayeon’s eyes snap to yours, ferocious, murderous. “But you don’t want just anybody.” Your dick throbs - there’s something primal, animalistic; if you wait any longer she’s gonna jump you, take what she wants and fuck you stupid. It’d be a threat if you didn’t want the exact same thing. “You want me.”

“Fucking asshole,” says Nayeon, hoarsely, but then you’ve got two fingers in her, her pussy clenching around you, and there’s a waning edge in the hostility: you know her too well. She’s not into being patient, ever. There’s never been a line between you two that she hasn’t been willing to toe. “You know - you know I never wanted anyone but you.”

That’s the blow, the bomb that’ll implode the two of you - or it would, but there’s never been a single secret between you and Nayeon, and that’s not about to change now.

“I know,” you manage, stunned, mesmerized by her, your palm falling from her wrist to her flat stomach, your fingers sliding out of her with an obscene, slick sound. “I know.”

“Please,” she begs. “Please fuck me.”

It’s filthy, it’s feelings, it’s years in the making. The head of your cock is at her needy, drooling cunt, and you can see it in her eyes, in the bruising marks you left scattered across her tits, her throat. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been. No one’s ever going to know her how you know her - no one’s ever even going to come close.

Your bury your dick inside of her, and it’s like there’s an ache you’ve waited lifetimes to relieve - and then, finally, ultimately, you’ve got her perfect pussy just for you, and you relieve it.

“God,” you hiss; Nayeon’s already whining, squirming under your hand firmly at her middle, holding her down - you think of going for her neck and you will, you think of flipping her over and watching her ass bounce back on your cock, and it’ll happen - but working your dick inside her impossibly tight pussy is more than enough for the time being; you’ve got your hands full, figuratively, literally. “This fucking pussy, Nayeon-”

You say her name, and it wrecks her - her fingers find yours where they’re balanced on her midriff, curling around you - and her jaw is slack, expletives falling from between her pretty, pouty lips like she’s never been advised to keep up a clean image. She’s with you, and she’s nothing like she is on camera. “Fuck me,” she’s babbling, “fuck me, fuck - your cock is so - fucking big, fucking me so good-”

She’s nothing like she is on camera, wrapped around your cock and crying out, but she’s everything that Im Nayeon has always been, otherwise: beautiful, irresistible, the most incomparable thing this town’s ever seen, and ever would. There’s all that bite to her, but she’s giving it up. You’re fucking her and for once she’s not gonna fight you on that.

“Just like I thought,” you murmur, and your thumb skates over her clit, gets a squeal, gets several. “You were fucking made to take my cock, weren’t you?”

You’re back in your time capsule of a room, and your veins are on fire, skin up in flames - you knew you wouldn’t be able to fuck her without dragging emotions into it, dragging your heart along as you pound Nayeon’s cunt, jerk your hips and get her screaming - you know that when you say it, you’re really saying something else, too. We were always going to end up this way, weren’t we?

“Yes,” Nayeon moans, voice ripping at the seams - it’s all the pleasure, all the anticipation, consuming, devouring. “Yes, yes, yes-”

You’re captivated by every single sound out of her mouth, every minute expression of that face, every gut-wrenching squeeze of her pussy, tight around your cock - call it a vice, the way she clamps down around you, the way you indulge in her perfect body like it’s a drug you’re using. Nayeon’s features crumple, fold: you’ve seen her onstage with all that bravado, all that confidence, showing off for a crowd - you’ve seen her hips and her tits and her tiny waist in form-fitting, skimpy outfits, practically painted to every curve - but now, she’s all for you.

(Hey, maybe her ego’s contagious; maybe you’ve got the girl everybody wants, and you get why they all treat her like a god.)

You’ll mind all your breaking points. “Cum for me, baby,” you order, and Nayeon screams.

There’s no air in the room, anymore, none in your lungs - it’s a fire without oxygen, nowhere to stay or go or feed on - and as she’s still shaking from her orgasm, jaw slack, you’re pulling out of her just to shoot your load all over the flawless, flat plane of her stomach, covering her skin in your cum - there’s everyone’s god, now, underneath you, slutty and sloppy and so thoroughly fucked-

“Oh, god,” Nayeon chokes out, strangled, the moment your cum soaks her. “Oh my god-”

It’s all in the air, with the two of you: the sex, the intimacy, the history. You take her stunning face in her hands and you dip to kiss her, fully aware of how responsive she is, the very second your lips meets hers. There’s a moan, there’s the arch of her back, there’s her tongue licking desperately into your mouth - “Nayeon,” you murmur, and tip your forehead to hers. Her breath’s uneven, eyelids fluttered shut. “Nayeon.”

Her eyes are closed, but a smile finds her lips, lights up her whole face; it’s a smile you’ve seen forever, in photos, across billboards, in all your best memories.

“You don’t even understand what you do to me,” she says, serenely, faintly. “When you say my name like that.”

There’s all that desire, and then the quiet honesty, and you swear a moment like this could last a lifetime. “Hey,” you say, and kiss her face - her nose, her forehead, both cheeks. You’ll take her as long as she’ll have you. “I think we’ve established by now that I know all about what I do to you.”

Nayeon’s a little hypnotized by how much you came across her stomach, a little stuck on it - you get up to get her some tissues, and when you turn around, she’s got cum-covered nails in her mouth, sucking on them shamelessly. The noises she’s making are fucked, and you stare.

“Fucking hell,” you say, dropping at her side on the bed.

“What?” asks Nayeon sweetly, licking her bottom lip. “You’re the one who came all over me. What did you want me to do?”

She’s trying to go for your usual banter, but it’s too soft, her smile too knowing and familiar, her body too open and comfortable. You can’t call this a one-night stand, can’t call it a fluke - she’s so safe in your bed that it looks like she’d stay there forever, if she could, you and her and these four walls.

Nayeon’s clothes are all over your floor, and you clean up all that silky skin. Her hair’s a mess, and the moon’s still coming through your window, glossing her body, her gorgeous eyes. You watch her face, and you can read her as well as you always have: every thought, every single intent.

(She’ll have to let this go, but she’s got a week to feel it first. It’s torture, the ticking clock, but it’s nothing the two of you haven’t had to feel already.)

“I can’t believe we haven’t done that before,” muses Nayeon, as you brush her hair off her forehead - she’ll have to take a shower, and you’ll have to join her, naturally. “Well, what’s the verdict?”

You eye her, sensing the jab like she’s already said it. “Sorry?”

“Fucking someone famous.” Nayeon tilts her head, smile sparkling like the stage lights she spends all her time under. “Was it everything you thought it would be?”

“Shut up.” You grab her at the hips, and she laughs, a mess of giggles, filling the space - she’s a celebrity, she’s larger than life - you’re the only one who can ground her like this. “You’re such a fucking idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah,” you say, touching your lips to the top of her head. “That’s the only reason I wanted to fuck you, Nayeon. Because you’re famous. That’s all this is, obviously. Thanks for the bragging rights.”

The sarcasm drenches each syllable, and Nayeon laughs louder - she can read your every thought, but this one’s a lie that’s too clear to call out: you loved her long before all the superstardom, all the money, all the recognition. She knows exactly how you feel about her, and she won’t pretend otherwise. You know just how she feels about you, and it’s the most certain you’ve ever been about anything.

“Oh,” she says coyly, and leans in to kiss you. “You’re so welcome.”

The next morning, you’re taking inventory, staring at the girl in your bed and wondering how you’re going to explain this to your parents. She’s dressed by now, in one of your t-shirts and a pair of your pajama pants, drawstring pulled tight around her small waist and so oversized they cover her feet - that’s already bad enough, but then there’s her neck, pale skin marred with hickeys - okay, it’s worse.

“How do you feel about sneaking out the window?” you ask.

Nayeon tries to kick you and almost slides off the bed. “You think your parents will care that we had sex?” Her hair’s freshly washed, tied up and out of her face. “They’ve wanted you to marry me since the first time I came over.”

You gape at her, but her nose crinkles up with her grin, and, well - it’s not like she’s wrong.

True to her word, your parents are thrilled that she’s here - they’ve never really grasped the scope of exactly what a big deal Nayeon is, now, so they treat her just like they did when she was younger, spending breakfasts and family dinners with you, fitting in so smoothly it was like she’d always been there. To your parents, you think they’ll kind of always see Nayeon as that bright-eyed, eternally charming girl that stuck by your side like you’d both collapse if you had to be apart. There’s that same smile, that effervescent laugh - you can’t really fault them for it.

“How long are you here?” your mom asks her, as she’s making breakfast, and Nayeon’s at the kitchen table, nonchalantly recounting stories of all her famous friends. “Just for the holidays?”

“A week,” says Nayeon, glancing at you, mouth twisting ruefully.

Your mom makes a sympathetic noise. “Oh, that’s not very long, huh.”

Compare it to the seven years you spent apart - and no, it’s not. It’s a blip, a snag in time. In the grand scheme of things, it’d probably be nothing.

“No,” agrees Nayeon; it’s never nothing, when it’s the two of you. Her hand finds yours under the table, and it’s everything that matters, wrapped up in an hourglass, sand slipping through your fingers. “But we’ll make it count.”

“We’ll make it count?” you berate her, later, in the car as you’re driving up to the mansions on the hill, testing codes for gated communities, pointing out gaudy architecture like you’re real estate snobs - it’s an old game, a remnant from high school shenanigans. Nayeon could buy this whole neighborhood, and it’s somehow become hilarious, all these years later. “Way to tell my mom that you and I are going to be fucking nonstop the whole time you’re here-”

“Like she didn’t already know,” says Nayeon, unapologetic, and points to her neck. She’s still in your clothes: no point in getting dressed when she can’t exactly leave the car without getting recognized, but you think she’d stay in your t-shirts all week, regardless.

It’s an old story, between the two of you. “You’re such a slut.”

“Yeah, and you’re directly benefiting from it, so I don’t know why you’re complaining.”

She says it like a proposition, and - hey, that’s an opportunity you’re never going to pass up. You’ll cash your checks, reap your benefits. You’ll pull off to the side of the road and throw the car in park, bury your hand in her hair as she leans over the console, tugs down your pants, gets her pouty lips wrapped around your dick in record time-

“What would your fans say?” you tell her, lowly, hypnotized by how she gags around you. “Seeing their angelic little idol with a cock shoved down her throat.”

Nayeon pulls back just to laugh, raspy and shot, spit dripping from the corners of her mouth. “They’d fucking love it and you know it.”

You’re up in the hills, in the midst of construction sites, all danger and risk and safety hazards waiting to happen; you can’t get enough of how Nayeon slobbers around your cock, how she’s everything you’ve ever wanted wrapped up in one - the slickness of her tongue, the tightness of her throat, her blonde ponytail in your fist as her head bobs, fast, faster-

When you cum in Nayeon’s mouth, she chokes on it, can’t even swallow it all down. “Jesus fucking christ,” she gets out, and she’s giggling, so pleased with herself, wiping the cum dribbling from her lips, down her chin. “You - wow.” She taps the head of your cock with the ridged back of one of her nails, works her jaw like she’s trying to memorize the feeling of your dick filling her mouth. “Your cock is so sensitive.”

“Gloating?” you ask, struggling to catch your breath. “That’s - like - that’s such a turn-off, Nayeon.”

It’d be slightly more convincing if she didn’t still have your cum staining her lips. “Liar.”

You hook your fingers in the collar of the shirt she’s wearing, tug her closer to nip at her neck - she gives this noise that’s somewhere between an affronted squeal and an aroused, needy exhale. She’s so easy, but so are you. She’s so transparent, but with this little time there’s nothing else to be.

You’ll make it work; you’ll catch up. “Fine,” you admit, pressing down on hickeys you’ll only darken, aggravate - she’s got you wrapped around her finger, but at least it’s mutual. “I guess your narcissism is kind of sexy, or whatever.”

“I hate your fucking guts,” says Nayeon, but she’s smiling.

There’s all this ease to it, something you’ve never found with anyone else; something you don’t think you’ll ever find again. You two have always been a little obsessed with each other.

“More than a little,” Nayeon revises, considering it; you’re three days in, walking back all your history. You can’t keep your hands off of each other, can’t keep your mouths closed, can’t keep from falling for the millionth time. “I just remember thinking that I could tell you about every embarrassing shitty thing I’d ever done, and you’d just listen, and not make fun of me for it. You knew what I could handle, you know?”

You get what she means: teenage boys like to tease, to insult - you weren’t exempt from that, but you looked at Nayeon and you always seemed to know what lines never to cross. How to be gentle with her, when you knew she needed it.

“You too,” you point out; Nayeon was perceptive when it counted, reading rooms, boundaries. She’d defend you to the death without hesitation. “Whenever I was with you, I knew I could trust you. Like I felt safe with you.”

You can think of situations where you’d feel emasculated, admitting it - but there’s Nayeon with her eyes, her genuine, generous smile, sitting at your desk chair, jeans and a gauzy white top. She gets you, and you never have to explain, never have to bother with defenses. You’re with her and vulnerability spills like it’s never had a reason not to.

“All this past tense,” pegs Nayeon, charmed more than concerned.

“Right,” you say, realizing. “Hey, it all still applies. I feel safe with you.”

There’s your past: teachers knowing you two were a matching set, classmates calling her your other half, texting any second you were apart, touching the moment you were together again. Shifting from jokes to sincerity so easily, ride-or-die in all senses of the phrase. Well, here’s your present: there’s the sex, now, and that’s another angle to it. You’d think it’d ruin a friendship this intense; you’d assume it’d only complicate things - you’d be wrong. There’s never been anything simpler, between you and Nayeon.

Nayeon softens, and rises from your chair just to fit herself into your arms. There’s that smile: no one gets me like you get me, she’s saying. You’ve got only days left; you’re picking your battles. You’ll remember everything that made you two exactly who you are now.

(Oh - it’s not like you ever really forgot. Nayeon’s got all the love and attention she could ever need, and she’s still here, with you.)

“Flattery,” Nayeon says, finally, arching an eyebrow at you, her face too adorable for the suggestive tilt to her voice, “will get you everywhere.”

Her palm slips to your chest, finds your heart. “I’m not even trying to flatter you,” you say, amused. “And if I was, I can do better than that.”

“Then do better,” replies Nayeon, rapid-fire. “What, you need some incentive?”

It’s just like the two of you: teasing, to truth, to seconds away from ripping each other’s clothes off, taking sexual tension and bending it entirely to your will. There’s so many routes to intimacy - you loop your fingers in the waistband of her jeans, and this is the one you’re choosing tonight. She’s leaving, either way. You’ll fuck her like you’ve got all the time you could ever need.

You’re all about old habits, the two of you: your jaw drops when you get her out of her clothes, and then you laugh so hard you almost topple over.

“I’m sorry,” you say, enamored, fascinated, “you packed lingerie for a holiday break in your hometown? So - you aren’t even pretending that your plan wasn’t to get fucked, now.”

Nayeon sticks out her bottom lip, furrows her brows. She’s playing at irritated, but she’s too proud of herself, how your eyes are glued to her body even though the laughter - she plants her hands on her waist, and that’s only one place to look. Her lingerie’s all lacy and black and ribboned, panties so tiny you could snap them between your fingers, the cups of her bra with scalloped edges, fit to every curve like it was custom-made for her. It’s Im Nayeon, anyway: you wouldn’t be surprised if it was.

“What can I say?” She shifts, tosses her pale curtain of hair over a slender shoulder. All those cracks about her ego - well, you won’t lie here: it’s so fucking hot. “I like to be prepared.”

You hook your fingers in the sides of her panties, tangling your grip in what virtually amounts to nothing but flimsy strings, biting into the creamy skin of her hips. “Was this expensive?”

“Very.” Nayeon’s dark eyes flash at you, already following where you’re going. Perks of fucking someone who basically shares half your brain. “Which means if you rip any of it in any way, you’re paying for the damage.”

“You’d foot the bill for me,” you say, one hand already going to cup her pussy.

Nayeon’s knees tremble, glare slipping down a few watts - she attempts to recover, to double back with twice the venom. It’s a valiant effort, or it would be, if she weren’t so visibly, undeniably desperate. “Uh, the fuck I would.”

“Hm.” She’s already soaked, and the whine you get from her when you slip a finger inside her cunt is music all her fans would bankrupt themselves just to hear. “I think I could probably find a way to convince you.”

You rip the panties, because you know what lines to never cross, and which ones Nayeon’s just begging you to run right through. “See?” you say, gratified, as you make her cum, and cum, and cum. “Told you: I can be very convincing."

You think she’d probably try to put up a fight, on this one, but she’s too busy clamping down tight around your cock, her gorgeous eyes rolling back into her head, lips dropping moan after moan. She shudders when you slide out of her, your cum dripping from her pussy, and curls up right to your side - okay, so maybe there’s no fighting anything. Nayeon presses her lips to your jaw, and smiles like her own satisfaction is a secret she’s hiding.

“I’ll let it slide,” she whispers, soft against your neck. “Only just this once. Only for you.”

Here’s the thing: you’re running out of time, but you always were. You could ask her to stay with you, give it all up, but you won’t; you’d never. She fills you in on every minute detail of her life, and she’s so happy - you’ve never seen her so happy.

“Fame suits me,” says Nayeon, unashamed. “It’s exhausting and fucked and anxiety-inducing - and it’s so much fun. It’s exhilarating. It’s like - it’s a non-stop adrenaline rush.” She laughs, free, talking the dream she’s living into reality - like you’d ever be able to wrap your head around it. “I think I’m kind of good at it, too.”

Her lips quirk at a corner, a deliberate understatement; she never needs to act humble with you.

Nayeon doesn’t even have an agenda, with this. She loves talking about her life, all the opportunity: the events, the fans, the attention, the way she can sing anything and people will listen. You talk about your own life, your major and your mentors and the friends you’ve made, and it’s then that you realize it-

“We really did make it,” you tell her, a little wondrously. “Without each other.”

Nayeon’s curled up to your side, on your couch. Something’s playing on the TV that she keeps laughing at, her whole face scrunching with delight. She looks at you sideways, says, “You didn’t think we would.”

It’s not a question, and you know because now she’s playing with the cuff of your shirt, bottom lip tucked into her mouth thoughtfully. Codependent - everyone said you were. You had a lot of skeptics, looking at the two of you, people disbelieving that either of you would even survive after Nayeon left.

“I wasn’t sure if we would, either,” she says, quietly.

Her life’s all in lights, in every magazine, spread across all the websites; yours is the opposite, but she listens to all your stories anyway - she gets the gist. You’re happy, too. You’ve worked hard to get where you are and it’s all you could’ve ever asked for. You and Nayeon have got success in completely different places, but you’ve got it anyway: you’ve found it all on your own.

“But we did,” says Nayeon, after a beat. There’s a joke on the television that she grins at, wrapped up in your arms. She’s leaving in a few days, a bomb waiting to go off. There’s an implication in this, something she’s not telling you but you understand anyway. “We did make it.”

We did make it, she’s saying. We can make it again, you and me. You with me, even if we’re worlds apart.

Your thumb skims her cheek, slips into her hair. Nayeon looks over at you, then says, “Give me your phone.”

You twist so she can slip it out of your back pocket - she knows your passcode, knows every facet of your life down to the letter. “Nayeon?” you ask, a little puzzled, as her nails click across your screen, the top of her head bumping your chin. “Are you…”

“Shh,” she says, mildly, then without warning, she’s on the camera, flipping the phone to take a picture of the two of you. You raise your eyebrows, intrigued; she’s falling back on her idol training, a peace sign and her tongue poking out from the corner of her mouth. “There,” she says, after, tapping once and then handing the phone back, a new, decisive set to her lips. “That’s my number. My real number.”

Your gaze drops to the phone screen - there it is, her number and her name and the picture she’d taken sitting as the contact photo - and when you glance back, Nayeon’s observing your face, checking for your reaction: if you’re in this just as much as she is. If you’re serious - if you’re really going to do this. If you get what’s going to come next and if you’re ready for it.

“I can call you on this?” you ask, slightly struck.

Nayeon scoffs, eyes sparkling, shoulder pressed to yours. “Uh - yeah, genius, that’s kind of the point.”

You’re smiling too wide. “So…”

“So if you leak my phone number, my company’s gonna sue you for everything you’re worth,” Nayeon says, haughtily, rapping her knuckles against your thigh. She’s severing the sentimentality of the moment, covering it up with humor. You get it - it’s a way out, an exit route. You know what she means by this even if she’s not saying it out loud.

“Okay,” you murmur, and kiss her temple. Nayeon’s nose scrunches up, pleased. There’s another one-liner on the show you’re watching, and this time it makes you both laugh, Nayeon hiding her giggles in the back of her hand. You’d think it’d be the point where the moment snaps shut, but instead it’s spreading, encompassing - like in a few days, she’ll be on the next flight back to the place she calls home, and you’ll still be able to feel her next to you, music in her laugh, forever wound in the curve of her smile.

She’s leaving, already. Her number’s in your phone, her heart’s in your hands. She’s leaving, but for once, maybe it doesn’t mean that anything has to end.

There are two days left, so you’re taking all the chances you can get. Sure, there’s catching up on shows, gossip; there’s her in your room, telling you things that probably break NDAs - from the outside looking in, you’d never guess that she’s at this ungodly level of fame and that you two haven’t talked in seven years. It’s all so normal, so relaxed, so cute.

Well - okay, most of it is cute. As long as you’re overlooking all the-

“You know, if you get any louder, we’re gonna get caught.”

Your week’s almost up, and you’ve got all your extended family filling your house, so you’ve found your escape the only way you can: in the backyard, your cock tapping against Nayeon’s pouty lips, the both of you drenched in shadow. And - true to form - she’s being a fucking menace about the blowjob that she’s barely giving you.

Everything’s pared down to the tactile, the physical; her hair’s back in two braids that you’ll tug, she’s testing your patience. You glare down at her - her fingers wrap around your cock just to release it. “And who’s fault would that be?”

Nayeon’s tongue darts out to lap at the head of your cock, flicking fast, eyes trained on you, watching as you struggle to keep it together, struggle not to wrap your hand in her hair and bury your dick inside her throat. She’s a tease like it’s her job - because if you think about it, it kind of is. There’s that intoxicating, cunning glint in her eye: she could do this all day.

“You’re fucking evil,” you manage, voice strained.

Like you said, Nayeon’s always had that ego - all the fame’s only stoked the fire. “Sorry?” she murmurs, blinking pointedly up at you, breath hot on your cock, torturous. “I can leave right now, if you wanted to take care of this all by yourself.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’re not gonna get to if you keep talking to me like that.”

Oh, that’s a threat with absolutely zero weight behind it, but you already know it. A split second after you cum in her mouth - she’s still wiping semen off her chin, cheeks puffing out trying to swallow it all - you’ve got her up against you, your hand down the front of her sweatpants, her pussy already dripping wet, getting her right to the edge of her orgasm like it’s nothing.

“Look at you,” you say, vicious like a risk just begging to be taken; you know exactly what she wants and how to give it to her. “Now who’s being loud?”

Nayeon tries to roll her eyes only to get caught on a climax, instead. Ah, well: it’s one way for you to call it even.

“I’d kiss you,” she tells you, after, “but some guy just came in my mouth five minutes ago.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you say, unnecessarily - you’ll make her, instead.

Your time’s almost up. She wakes up in your bed on the very last day, hickeys spanning her neck, her tits, her thighs. You run your fingers along them and wonder how the two of you are ever going to get away with this. “What’s your company going to say about this?”

Nayeon laughs, soft in the morning, sun-soaked and ethereal. “Contrary to popular belief,” she says - she’s built her living around playing coy, showing just enough to tantalize, baring what’ll draw allure and nothing more - “it’s not my company’s job to keep me out of trouble.”

“No?”

“Nope.” There’s that gorgeous face, those eyes trapping stars, captivating anyone who even comes close. “It’s to keep everyone from finding out about it.”

“Oh," you say, grinning. "Is that right?”

“Yep.” When Nayeon kisses you, it’s like a promise she’s making, an oath she’ll make and swear on. “Believe me,” she says, and smiles just to sign on the dotted line. “I can get into all the trouble that I want.”

You stay in for old times’ sake, enjoy no one’s company but each other’s - wrapped in your duvet, Nayeon half in your lap - except instead of talking about shitty classes and dramas and movies you’re planning on watching together, Nayeon’s tilting her phone towards you, letting you flick through unreleased photos for her new comeback. “Perks of fucking me,” she tells you crassly, conversationally, like that’s all it is - the fond curl of her mouth betrays her. “You get all the sneak peeks.”

“I’m getting more than a peek,” you say, struck dumb by a series of photos of Nayeon in this sinfully tight, abominably short pink bodysuit, monogrammed with red. It’s fucked up, so you’ll say it out loud. “Jesus, this outfit.”

Nayeon taps the screen excitedly, nails clicking; it’s beyond adorable how excited she gets about it all, about the music and the aesthetics and the clothes and the choreography - it’s one thing to see her on-screen, and it’s another entirely to see all the passion in person, all the effort. It’s times like this where you understand it all perfectly: if there’s anything in the world she was made for, it’s this. “Right? It was made from this Louis Vuitton towel just for me to wear it - insane, no?”

“Yeah,” you say, gawking at the photos of her with those mouthwatering thighs all on display, the buttons popped at the collar. She’d said red was her color - and it is, but it’s Nayeon, and every color looks like it was created for her. “It’s fucked up.”

“That it’s made out of a towel? I actually thought it was ingenious.”

You take a look at her expression - there’s that mischief in her eyes, a dead giveaway. “Obviously not that,” you say, then amend, humoring her, “well, that’s cool, too. You’re right. A towel - ingenious.”

“Totally.”

You clip her on the hip, making Nayeon gasp, go to pinch you on the shoulder. “No,” you correct, dodging, “the fucked up thing is how hot you are.”

Nayeon’s in one of your t-shirts and her own underwear and nothing else, her neck so marked up that anyone would think she’d gotten mauled, her blonde hair disheveled from sleep and tumbling over her shoulders. You’ve never once had a filter around each other - never had any room for embarrassment or shame, between the two of you.

“You and that flattery,” says Nayeon, her teeth gleaming in her grin.

“Uh-huh.” You press the phone back in her hand, lift your eyebrows in a provocation. “Where’s it getting me?”

Nayeon clicks it off, tilts her head like she’s studying you. You’ll take all your last risks before you wrap it up. “Where do you wanna go?”

You bring it back to the start. You end up on the beach, the two of you curled up on a towel, another one around both your shoulders, staring out at the waves: there's the moonlight overhead, everything hazy like you’re living in a dream.

It’s freezing, so you won’t touch the water. Nayeon’s head is on your shoulder, and neither of you want to snap the silence, but you will, anyway. It’s a night for confessions - there’s the moon, listening; the waves, all salt and seafoam, thinning out to reach the sand. Nayeon whispers, like she’s afraid someone will hear her, “I’m gonna miss this.”

Your hand is slipped under her cardigan, thumb notched under the strap of her tank top - sometimes it’s like you’d just die if you weren’t touching her. Her fist’s at the hem of your shirt, nails brushing your abdomen; you know she’s always felt the same way.

“I know,” you say, and there’s no one else to hear it, but for once Nayeon’s right here, and it’s enough, and she doesn’t need an audience to prove it. “Me too.”

There’s a presence to this kind of intimacy, how it blooms, how it settles. It’s freezing, so you’ll pull her body into yours - there’s the wind, there’s the risk of being caught, nipping at all her smooth skin - and there’s never been any sex like this, for either of you. It’s more than just feral, more than just fucking: Nayeon moans your name, lets her back arch like she has no control over her body, lets her cunt clench tight around your cock like the only thing she has control over is you.

“Please,” she whimpers, the swirling winter air stealing the words right out from her lungs. “Please - please fuck me, please cum in me, I need to feel your cum - filling me up, wanna feel it leaking out of me - please.”

The beach is empty, but you’d fuck her the same way in front of rooms full of people, of watchful, prying eyes. It's all meant to be secret, something between the two of you and no one else - you'll keep it as long as you have her, safe somewhere in your chest, spread between your fingers. When she falls back to flashing cameras and adoring fans, she’ll play like she’s up for grabs, but she isn’t: she’s yours, in every way. She’s yours, always.

“I’m yours,” Nayeon breathes into your neck, pliable and needy underneath you, every part of her body reaching for you as if you’re her first and only instinct. “Yours, yours.”

Please don’t forget, her eyes beg you. Please love me like this forever.

Your fingers wrap around the pale column of her throat - you’ll steal her words this time around, make her eyelids shutter and her eyebrows draw together, panting; she’s slicker than the ocean around you, thighs salty with sweat, cum - and when you squeeze, Nayeon falls apart.

She’ll be gone tomorrow. She’ll be gone, and there’s no telling when she’s coming back.

“Baby,” you exhale, dipping to kiss her, shuddering as your orgasm builds like it’s something to break. You can’t even fuck her without throwing your feelings right at her feet; can’t have her neck in your hand without having her heart, too. There’s no separating the sex and the sentiment. She’s your best friend, she’s the love of your life; you’ll never have one without the other. “Always.”

Forever, you tell her, in your lips on hers, in her nails scoring welts down your back. Years in the making, and it all culminates here. I’ll love you forever.

Nayeon’s whining and writhing and gasping for air by the time you cum inside her, and the moment you let up on her throat she’s rising to kiss you again. There’s so much, between the two of you - there’s the ocean, threatening to drown, consume; there’s fame, alive in every shimmering skyline - and then there’s her number sitting in your phone, a years-long yearning waiting to become something more. The stars are overhead, aligning. The moon’s winking at you, turning all the tides.

You kiss her one more time, and say, “Let’s go home.”

It’s the middle of the night, and you’re back in your bed together, thumbing her ribs like you’re counting lifelines, following the curve of her waist like you’re cartographing all the places you’ve already been. You’ll be back, someday. You’ll trace her bare wrist, follow the pathways of her veins right on home.

“You know I always loved you, right?” Nayeon asks, voice soft, close.

It’s not the time for insecurity, for mincing words, for purposeful ignorance. “Yeah.”

“You know I still do, then.” Nayeon lifts her head, irises glinting with unshed tears, her blonde hair a mess over her forehead. Fame turned a girl into a god, and she came back to you anyway. She’ll do it again, in time. “Don’t you?”

“Nayeon.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you say, heart high in your throat. “I know. I always knew. I love you, too.”

There’s too much emotion in the room for words, and Nayeon finds your mouth in the dark like she’s been doing it her whole life. You’ve said so much already. You’ll crack open every window, let the air in; you’ll crack your chest apart, and let your love breathe.

The morning comes, and it’s time for a return to form - you’ve got lives to live, both of you. Responsibilities, obligations. There’s something in the sunrise, like it’s calling her back; the limelight won’t know how to survive without Im Nayeon sparkling under it. She can’t stay. She never could.

“It’s been fun, I guess,” says Nayeon flippantly, defaulting to stupid humor; if she doesn’t make you both laugh, then you’ll both crumble.

“Shut up,” you say, thickly, as she takes your hand, drags you out of bed. Her eyes are glassy, her fingers laced with yours like she’s scared to let go. “You’re such a dumbass.”

You lean in to kiss the crown of her head. There’s a twist to Nayeon’s mouth, tender - and you know that even when she does let your hand go, you’re still going to be hers and hers alone.

Well, you know what they say about distance, absence: it’ll all make the heart grow fonder. It’d been true, before. Maybe it can be true again.

“What an optimistic take,” says Nayeon, dryly, and her bottom lip’s already trembling, breathing already uneven as she tries to choke back tears. You’re out on the sidewalk again, and it’s all circling back, cyclical; she’s in your arms, and you’re both right where you started. “I agree completely. Seven years wasn’t enough. I need to get away from you, stat.”

It’s so her, making dumb jokes just so she doesn’t sob herself to pieces. Her hair’s spilling over her shoulders, golden; her stunning eyes are locked on yours, one hand pressed to the side of your neck, thumb finding your jaw. There’s a car waiting, her luggage packed up and put away; it’s gonna hurt, and you already know it. Nayeon’s shoulders are high like she’s preparing herself for some physical ache, the moment she steps away - she’s putting up her fronts, but they’re all slipping. She’s putting up a good fight and it’s already lost.

“I love you,” you say, emotion twining up your throat, and it’s enough to cleave her façade in two.

“Fuck,” Nayeon manages, and lifts her wrist over her mouth, expression collapsing in on itself. “I know. I love you. I’m - I’m so sorry-”

“Hey, hey-”

You go to everything you’ve ever learned, all the ways to ground Nayeon again before she floats away: there’s her face in your hands, and you’re looking right at her, firm so she can see how serious you are. “Hey,” you say, trying to soothe her even as your own heart threatens to constrict, shut off; she’s more important. She always has been. “You don’t need to be sorry, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong. This is just - it’s just how it is. We both know that.”

It’s been seven years: you and Nayeon, and it’s the oldest story ever told. It’s no one’s fault - not hers, for everything she’s accomplished; not yours, for not begging her to stay.

(See, she’s got the whole world waiting with bated breath, clamoring to get a glimpse of her. She’s got her whole life at her fingertips, ready for her to reclaim her titles. You’d never, ever hold her back.)

“Yeah,” chokes out Nayeon, visibly distraught, eyes wide and watery, “but, like - it still fucking sucks.”

It’s not the place, or the time - you’re both fracturing at every place that’s already been broken, over and over - but she says this, and it’s such a crass, blunt, stupid way to sum it all up. You can’t help it. She says it, and before you know it, you’re both dying laughing.

Nayeon’s leaning into you, breaths caught on giggles, on sobs - laughing like it’s all okay, laughing like she’s not leaving - and her fingers are gripping your elbows, her face crinkling up, that brilliant grin even through her tears. “Nayeon,” you get out, and your adoration strikes a match through your bloodstream, forest-fire flames licking, demolishing. That’s your girl: so gorgeous no one else exists. “Nayeon.”

She’s laughing, and free, and wonderful, and in that one stunning moment, you feel it: you know you're both going to be okay.

“Like, this is stupid.” Nayeon’s still on her tirade, her palm slapping your forearm vigorously, pitch picking up. You can’t stop smiling, can’t stop the tears building; you’ve never loved anyone more, and never will. “We’re in love and all that shit. We’ve always been in love. Why - I just - I feel like we never have enough time.”

“Nayeon,” you say, for the third time, and finally her focus tunnels completely and only on you.

“What?”

“We’ll be alright,” you say, and press your lips to her forehead so she knows you mean it. “We have all the time in the world.”

She kisses you, one last time. It’s a prospect, or that oath she’ll swear to keep, coming back around. She’s in your arms, chin tipped up at you, and there are doors you’ll throw wide open, hurdles to get over. It’s not going to be easy, this kind of love, this kind of distance, but you’ll make it work. You’ll love each other, and it’ll work.

Nayeon’s smiling up at you, heavy-hearted, hopeful, eyes glittering like constellations. “Promise me something.”

Anything, you think of saying. Anything you want and I’ll do it. “Okay.”

“Call me.” Her hands are in yours - there’s the sun, overhead, and it can’t even hope to compete with her. “If I can’t answer, leave me voicemails. Text me. Tell me everything, even the dumb shit.” There’s that pain building in her voice, half-strangling her - you tap the inside of her wrist, mind her pulse points. You’ll listen like everyone does. “I’m going to miss so much of your life, but - make me feel like I won’t, okay? Make me feel like I’m there.”

“I promise,” you say, softly.

Nayeon sinks into your arms, breath catching, stumbling. You bury your face in her hair and wonder if you can memorialize a second in time like this one, weave it into your soul, lock it up in your ribcage; if there’s a way to take this feeling and make it physical - if there's a way to cup it between your palms and make it forever.

“One more,” whispers Nayeon, into your neck. “Make me one more promise.”

“Anything,” you tell her, out loud - there’s not a thing you’d ever hide from her.

“Promise you’ll remember that I’ll come back to you.”

It's an exhale, a pause to take a breath. It’s not even a question. Your pinky finds hers, coils them together. “I promise,” you say, and you feel her smile against your skin.

Whatever thread’s always been between you two knots, and tightens, encased in steel - you’ll feel it even miles away, whatever’s tying her to you, tugging at your heart, linking your fingers. You’ll feel her, even if it takes years; oh, it’s Nayeon, and there’s nothing you won’t do. You’ll have faith. You’ll keep your arms open, ready for her to come running home. She’ll love you from worlds away, and you know she always will.

(I promise, you say, and you know you’re gonna make it.)

Her car leaves, peeling off the asphalt, taking her back to a universe that adores her, worships her, would do anything to possess her and make her theirs. You could stand on the sidewalk forever, unmoving. You could let your own life disintegrate into nothing. You could cry, and scream, and curse out every deity you can think of, damn everything pulling you two apart down to hell.

Instead, you call her.

"Oh, shit," Nayeon says, on the other line, forgoing any greeting. "I just left three seconds ago. If you can't even handle that, this relationship is totally fucked."

You can still hear the remnants of tears in her voice, the ghost of watery laughter. A phone call can't hide a thing - not from you. "I love you."

A sigh, a huff, a put-upon irritation that's seconds from cracking wide open. "You're so clingy. How are you gonna survive on just phone sex until you see me again?"

"Nayeon," you say, grinning.

"I love you," she says, with all the unabashed endearment in the world, and just like all her songs, you swear it's a melody sweet enough to break records. "I'll see you soon."

You smile up at the open sky, and you know that you will.

stream IM NAYEON <3

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #idol x male reader #idol x reader #twice smut #nayeon smut #reader insert #male reader #im nayeon

2K notes · View notes

kentucky-fried-thea · 2 years

Note

company for the explain a musical thing

GUkd <- I stimmed while opening this and I'm gonna keep the proof

I'm so sorry this took so long and thank you for your patience <33

I saw the third revival on broadway(!!) so those are the pronouns you're getting <3

Bobbie is an unmarried woman with bunch of married or engaged or divorced or other forms of taken friends. She is listening to her voicemails on her birthday, including one from Jamie accidentally spoiling her surprise birthday party. Then, her friends all menacingly walk towards the stage via aisles and from the wings while singing variations of her name including but not limited to Baby, Bobbie Boo Boo, and my personal favorite, Boobie Baby. Bobbie monologues about how odd it is to be surprised on her 35th birthday, there is a squabble about returning gifts for the money, Joanne makes an obnoxious comment about how rich she is, and then they sing happy birthday and Bobbie tries to blow out the candles.

Functioning word in that sentence is *try*, as in, she fails. There's another squabble about whether or not she still gets her wish, Joanne makes another obnoxious comment, and then Bobbie explains she didn't even wish for anything. Everybody immediately calls bullshit.

Eerie music plays and Bobbie explores the (absolutely extraordinary) set (like come on this set is the coolest thing I've ever seen). She then finds a key, and uses it to enter the home of her friends Harry and Sarah (like seriously this set is so actually ingenious). She has brought gifts, bourbon and brownies, then discovers that Harry's on the wagon, Sarah's on a diet, and she's a shitty friend. Then, Sarah and Harry karate each other while joanne makes some more obnoxious comments and Bobbie plays a drinking game called alcoholism

after that all the husbands say how they are in a love hate relationship with being married, and then Bobbie finds herself on Peter and Susan's terrace (holy shit like literally genius) and Susan scares the hell out of Peter and then they announce to Bobbie that they're getting divorced and Bobbie is anything but comfy in that situation.

now Bobbie is smoking weed with Jenny and David and David is very adamant that he isn't getting high while he is very clearly getting very high. then they are like, Boobie Baby, why arent you dating??? and then Bobbie's three weed-smoking gfs I mean three boyfriends go off on her about her commitment issues

and then all Bobbie's friends think they've found her a match and PJ takes her on a date surveying the city and Andy the flight attendant proves himself to be not that bright and Theo turns out to have a fiancee AND THEN

in a show of the best scenic design, acting, singing, showmanship, and overall anything that i have ever seen,

(not) getting married today

Jamie and Paul are about to get married, but Jamie is really scared (they're gonna think im pregnant!), so he sings a FANTASTIC patter song explaining himself, earns himself a tony, and cancels the wedding. then, Bobbie offers to marry him herself and it's enough to stun him back to his senses. on his way out the door to go get Paul, Bobbie tosses him his bouquet, and he exclaims "IM THE NEXT BRIDE!!!!!"

Bobbie then decides that perhaps she wants to get married herself, sings a beautiful song, and leaves you sitting in a puddle of your own tears for intermission.

act 2

we time travel back to when Bobbie gets surprised, and relive the scene, but this time, she manages to blow out half of the candles. some more Joanne comments, reassurances including jamie: everything will turn out for the better!!!... I don't even believe that myself- and Bobbie realizes she's a perpetual third wheel. to prove it, there's a dance break and she doesn't have a partner to dance with

next, she's trying to get andy to fuck her, but he's too stupid to read the sexual advances. so instead, he tells the spectacular tale about how his cat ate a butterfly. Bobbie tries to get him into the mood with a story she says is similar, in no way is, and which andy somehow manages to connect to his absurd story through the power of metaphor and himbos. as they get ready to fuck, Bobbie's friends lament about how sad her daring life is. as they fuck, Bobbie's life flashes before her eyes, including pregnancy, marriage, and the same red jumpsuit for every life event.

in the morning, Andy has to get on a flight to Barcelona and Bobbie does the stereotypical thing and "begs" him to stay. but she forgot one very important thing. Andy is really fucking stupid. so yeah, she accidentally convinces him to stay. oops

Bobbie then goes and visits Peter and Susan, finding that they are in fact divorced, though only by law. as in, they still live together and act like a married couple, but the status has gone from "married" to "best friends with better benefits". then Susan totally hints that she would love to "have a homosexual experience" with Bobbie. I've been using a lot of quotes oops

Joanne is back, this time not with an obnoxious comment, but with a full on monologue of berating Bobbie (she kind of has a point ngl). she and Bobbie are sitting at a night club, and she comments on how Bobbie always says she's gonna do something, yet never does, and how she watches life from the sidelines. then she starts ripping a new one into her husband, Larry. she sings a fabulous song (ladies who lunch) mocking rich bitches with no meaning in her life, including herself (we stan a self aware queen). then Larry gets back from the dance floor and she spouts out even more drunken insults, but Larry admits he loves her anyway, and explains why, leaving joanne taken aback.

Joanne suddenly invites Bobbie to have an affair with her, says that she'll take care of her, and Bobbie exclaims, "but who will I take care of?" and immediately has a breakthrough moment. Joanne is super satisfied by this, especially when she admits she wants to get married, but wants to know, "what do I get?". leaving her angry and confused, joanne and Larry leave.

the couples are back, inviting Bobbie over for dinner and such (just be the three of us, only the three of us!), but this time, Bobbie isn't having it. she yells, "STOP!" and sings the life-changing song Being Alive.

traveling on back to the surprise scene, Bobbie hasn't arrived at her apartment yet, and her friends are getting worried. they decide to abandon the surprise, and leave. then, Bobbie enters, looks at the candles, exits, and returns with a fire extinguisher.

once again, so sorry this took so long, I must admit I forgot about it for a couple of weeks... this was so much fun to make, probably the most fun out of the ones so far

if you like what you see, go ahead and request a musical for me to explain, preferably via ask

I love you all so much!! thank youuuuuuu

#company musical #stephen sondheim #company stephen sondheim #musicals #musical theater #company #katrina lenk #patti lupone #matt doyle #those are the important tags #moth explains a musical

27 notes · View notes

obscure-imagines · 3 years

Photo

*Horror genre/smut warning*

-He’d be very tentative to catch feelings for anyone because he’s a very depressed boi

-quiet guy is hard to get to know, especially after an apocalyptic event

-Even if you’re survivors together, he’s just kind of going to be floating around quietly, so if you want to get to know Hyunsu, you’re going to have to make an effort

-Hyunsu is drawn to beautiful things, things that inspire hope (music, kids, etc...) and he can enjoy pleasurable things for a time, but Hyunsu is always terrified that good things will be torn from his grasp, so he never wants to let himself love something too easily

-Boy has his found family, so being accepted by his loved ones would be really important.

-It would be the elder survivors like Han and Gilseob who notice the connection between you and Hyunsu first

-i’m talking hard core pining, long looks, Hyunsu’s eyes finding you any time you enter a room, but you’re both oblivious to each other

-It’s a tough situation because Hyunsu is still treated like a monster at times, and people are obviously scared of his dark side

-Hyunsu can’t even imagine getting close to you, for fear that he’ll hurt you

-his monster alter ego even toys with him by mentioning you sometimes, further increasing the poor boys anxiety

-He’d get growingly agitated any time you have to put yourself in danger, and always ends up going places with you just to make sure you’re protected

-it starts with him just kind of shadowing you when you head up to your apartment for something one day

-the building is pretty much safe, but when you catch Hyunsu out of the corner of your eye, you almost have a heart attack, which he apologizes profusely for

-he goes with you to your room and is kind of awkward at your door because you’re a pretty girl and he’s about to go into your apartment, even if it is a post apocalyptic world, boy has manners

-He’s also just very big and tall, so even though he kind of hunches over, he sticks out like a sore thumb in your apartment

-he’s so quiet, but once you find something you both mutually enjoy to talk about, he begins to loosen up

-he continues shadowing you, he’s pretty much your designated monster survival partner

-at dinners you start to eat together and everyone is low key hoping you both work out, but are also worried about what it could mean for you if Hyunsu turns full monster out of the blue one day

-He’s very hesitant to allow you to touch him, so you’d have to start small

-like maybe you offer to help him clean up some residual blood left on his skin after he’s healed from a fight

-Hyunsu all but holds his breath while you wipe his skin

-big uwu boy, heart eyes to the extreme

-he honestly just needs a good cuddle and one day, after a particularly rough event where you almost die, Hyunsu is too tired to be in full control of himself, so when you crawl into bed with him, wrapping your arms around his frame, Hyunsu allows himself to enjoy it

-the biggest soft boy is the small spoon sometimes cuz he really needs it

-he falls asleep in your arms and it’s the most peaceful sleep he’s had in maybe years

-when he wakes up, he rolls to cuddle against your chest, still half asleep and unaware of what he’s doing until he can hear the beat of your heart under his ear and realizes you’re not just a pleasantly warm pillow

-boy practically jumps out of the bed and needs to be pulled back into your embrace

-if you start massaging his scalp and holding him to your chest- he’s going to die, like, he’ll never be happier

-He craves your cuddles like nothing else in the whole world, and allows himself more and more to be happy when he’s with you, and to be with you often

-seeing him smile is so odd, people are shook

-the first day you grab his hand in front of people makes his heart melt

-the two of you are simply waiting for dinner, and you grab his hand, playing with his fingers casually

-you don’t even notice how impactful the gesture is

-after dinner, Hyunsu finds himself swept away by the key men of the group, Han thinks it’s all very cute, Gilseob agrees with Han but he’s worried like Eunhyeok that Hyunsu could be a danger to you. Sangwook is just there because they dragged him along

-Hyunsu is still worried he could hurt you and you notice him pulling away after his discussion with the guys, which leads to him fully communicating to you all his fears about being a monster and not being good enough for you

-squash all his anxieties with a kiss

-Hyunsu will melt against you, your lips are the best cure for his busy mind

-if you tug a little at his hair boy will be whipped forever

-once he opens up to you, he’ll tell you everything

-time spent cuddling and just talking

-tracing his scars and kissing them, telling him you’ll never leave him

-him being worried about becoming a monster but you’re so determined he won’t- and you won’t let him try to avoid you for your ‘own safety’ so he’s pretty much just stuck with loving you and accepting that you make him happy and he’s allowed to be happy

-helping him cut his hair and being shook by how much younger he looks

- “do you like it?” he wants to make sure you still like his new hair

-he’s so much more boyish- it honestly makes it worse when his hair is short because people have been straight up offering him up to really hard jobs because he ‘cant die’

-like, you’re going to be fiercely protective of this boy, just as he is of you

-yeah he’s the one that ‘cant die’ but if someone tries to be even slightly mean to him, you’re jumping in and throwing fists

-’oh? you guys think it’s a good idea to sacrifice him to the military/government for our survival? time to meet my fists’ you’ll jump in swinging i swear to god

-you would probably be down to fight Eunhyuck on the daily for how he treats Hyunsu like his watch dog/hound

-low key everyone is prepared to wake up and find you and Hyunsu just gone one day

-he looks at you with the biggest heart eyes, like, boy is so in love with you and anyone can see it

-he’s going to cherish any time with you

-nights are for cuddles and memorizing your face in the moonlight that comes through the windows

-will find you cute little gifts, like, if he knows you like certain books or stuff like that he’ll keep an eye out for things to amuse you when he’s looking for supplies

-being way too fucking cute. like. this is an apocalypse and this man is just out here being a full fucking simp for you im-

-be careful as he gets more in love with you though because if someone threatens you, his monster side will pop out

-you’re feeling fragile one day and someone says something rude about Hyunsu and ‘how much time he has left’ and when Hyunsu finds you crying, his eyes go black and his monster side demands you tell him who he has to go kill for you

-after that, you can be certain his monster side won’t ever hurt you, which makes Hyunsu feel a lot more relaxed

-boy finally lets you touch him for longer than like five minutes because he’s not scared of loosing himself when he’s with you anymore

-ok, let’s be real, ya’ll would find ways to fuck even during the apocalypse

-boy deserves it. he DESERVES IT I TELL YOU

-soft honey boy, starts so soft, so much kissing and foreplay

-you’d really have to initiate things going farther than just kissing, and he’d worship you if you undressed for him

-10/10 will tell you he loves you while buried completely inside of you

-lots of gripping and passion, breathless kisses, hand holding and finger squeezing

-let him burry his face in your neck

-the sweetest aftercare filled with cuddles, hugs, kisses, and sweet words of affirmation

-he’s super shy about petnames, but you pet your ass that this big soft boi is going to let ‘jagiya’ (honey/sweetheart) slip every once and again.

-super shy about pda around other people, but you purposefully like to show how much you love him to make everyone else think twice about being mean to him or prejudice because he’s ‘infected’, whatever that even means.

-stealing his massive clothes

-taking care of him in ways that count, like making sure his depression doesn’t get the better of him being able to complete basic tasks, like cleaning him after a fight and making sure he eats properly

-being Hyunsu’s proof that humans can live with monsters, because you’ll never let him go and you love him

-i mean, not even going to lie, 10/10 Hyunsu would make living in monster world worth it

3K notes · View notes

it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream · 3 years

Text

Opposites attract (Paul Lahote x Reader) Chapter 4

Warnings: Swearing?

Word Count: 1.7k

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Life had a round about way of giving you what you had longed for all along.

You had spoke to Paul for hours up on the mountain side, the world around you quiet as the only thing you could focus on was him. You sat side by side, invisible sparks crackling between warm skin as he told you everything there was to know about your new found wolfiness. He reassured you that even though you were mates, it didn’t mean you had to feel pressured into anything, an imprint was there to be anything for their other half, a friend, a lover.. You shivered at the sound of being Paul Lahote’s lover, you had to stop yourself from pinching yourself a few times.

It was dark by the time you made the descent down the frosty mountain, in normal circumstances you would have most likely died of hypothermia by now, but as you’d established, life was anything but normal.

You were laughing at something Paul had said when you heard a twig snap in the distance, it caught Pauls attention to, he tensed, pushing you behind him. Your face scrunched against his back as a foul smell invaded your senses and that’s when it happened.

A flash of red hair was all it took for your body to start quivering.

—————————————————————————---------------

“So that was a vampire?” You were changing back into clothing, your other stuff shredded in the shift. “I thought they would look… less human?” Your nose scrunched up when you thought about the vampire stench that came off the one they called Victoria.

You looked towards Paul who was tense with a capital T. He was mad that he didn’t sense her approach sooner, hating the fact that you were newly shifted and still had much to learn about being a wolf. What if something had happened to you? Luckily the red headed vamp disappeared when you and Paul started chasing her, the pack had followed behind in a second, your link alerting them to the threat nearby.

You walked closer to him, scared that he might be too angry. His back was rippling and his muscles tensed. Your small warm hand reached up to touch the space between his shoulder blades and it was like magic. In an instant he relaxed as invisible electrical current crackled between your skin.

He turned slowly and looked down at you, his gaze warm and calm when he looked into your eyes. He took your hand and pulled you into him, your bodies colliding in a much needed embrace, his chin resting on the top of your head. You sighed and snuggled your face into his toned chest as his arms came around you like a cocoon of safety.

“Yes Y/N, that, was a vampire. The only reason she’s here is because of the fucking Cullens and their pet project.” You felt his jaw tense on the top of your head, your hands rubbing small circles on the lower part of his back.

“What do you mean their pet project?” You hadn’t found out about Bella yet and her involvement with the Cullens. Vampires were your natural enemy now, but some part of you still found it romantic that a blood sucking demon fell in love with a human. A human that you didn’t really know, had only met in passing when she was little and used to visit the Blacks. Since then, you’d never seen her again, but by the sounds of things, you’d be seeing her very soon.

Sam had agreed to helping the Cullens. The pack had a treaty with them but it was unheard of for Wolves and Vampires to help each other, at least that’s what you were told anyway, you were still trying to wrap your head around the fact that when you got angry a bushy tail would maybe appear.

Alice, one of the Cullens, could see the future? Honestly things were still feeling like a dream. Anyway, she could see the future and had a vision of a big bad newborn vampire army appearing from the watery depths below and invading forks. Naturally the Cullens would have handled it on their own if they could, but the numbers predicted were too many and they needed help. That’s where you guys came in. They would never see you coming.

“So were going to learn how to fight these newborns?” Paul had sat down while giving you the lowdown, his arms never leaving your waist, he just plopped you on his knee instead. You felt him tense again.

“Paul if you tense anymore you’re going to break a bone.” Your fingers found the back of his head, playing with and twisting the dark hair at the nape of his neck.

“You’re not going to learn to fight anything.” That made you halt your finger twirling. You looked at him with a scowl and he raised an eyebrow as if saying “try me.”

“Im a wolf like the rest of you now, just because i’m your soulmate doesn’t mean I shouldn’t know how to defend myself or learn how to.. you know… be a frikin wolf! What if you weren’t around and some vampire came about and boom, Y/N doesn’t know how to defend herself, then what?” You stood up from his lap, pacing slightly in front of him.

“I’ll never leave your side so you don’t have to worry about that babe.” That made your heart flutter but also angered you at the same time.

“As much as I love that Paul, it’s not realistic, what if Sam sends me off with other members of the pack or what if something comes up and you’re just not around? You can’t guarantee that you’ll always be around.” You watched Paul huff. Actually huff life a child would when they were told off.

“Awh come on you big baby, i’ll be fine!” You were interrupted by Sam and Emily coming through the door, Quil, Embry and Jake following behind, Leah coming in seconds after the rest.

“Who’s fine where, what?” Leah grabbed a cookie from a bowl Emily put out, she still want gotten over the feeling of betrayal when Sam left her to go to Emily, but you thought you saw a glimpse of… something there. Maybe she was getting used to being around them and the guys more. You’d like to think it would help now that you’d be around too, she had a confidant, a shoulder to lean on. You’d have to talk to her after, when you were both alone, find out if she was okay with everything going on. It’s not exactly like you could help it, but still, you wouldn’t be a good friend if you didn’t at least check in.

“Nothing, Paul is just worried about me learning to fight with the rest of you guys, you know, for the big, impending doom of the vampire army.” Sam frowned.

“I have to admit, I kinda agree with Paul on this one.” Leah stopped munching on her cookie when Sam finished his sentence. Embry and Quil looked around awkwardly and Jake wasn’t really paying too much attention.

“The training starts in two days and you’ve only just turned for the first time today, it might be too early for you to gain control over your wolf.”

You couldn’t believe Sam was siding with Paul. What the hell was the point of you turning and being chosen to be a Wolf, being told you’d have to give up everything you’d been working towards, for you to then be told you can’t fight and do what the fuck you were designed to now do.

“This is bullshit. I was perfectly fine being a normal girl, studying, working towards something I’d been dreaming of my whole life. Now this happens and you tell me i’m not ready. Whatever.” Leah stood at the same time you did, you heard Paul’s chair scrape back.

“Babe come on, it’s not like that.” You glared at him.

“Then what’s it like Paul, because i’m sure if I was a guy and didn’t have an imprint and the roles were reversed, i’d be training with the rest of you, newly shifted or not.” You grabbed your phone and house keys and made your way to the door, Leah walking beside you, most likely knowing exactly how you felt.

——————————————————————————————————

The next morning you woke to 20 missed calls and 40 texts, mostly from Paul a couple from Sam, one from Emily and even one from Jake. You snorted as you turned over in bed, noticing Leah sprawled out like a starfish, mouth hanging open, hair in every direction. Same old Leah.

You opened the message from Emily, wondering what she would have to say, she wasn’t someone you’d really spoke to before because of the whole love triangle but she seemed nice.

“I spoke to Sam about how unfair it was for you to miss out, all sorted ;)” .. what the hell did that mean?

Then you read the messages from Sam. “Training starts tomorrow at 8am, don’t be late, sorry about what happened the other day, i’m not used to having a pair of imprints in the pack.”

You could see where he was coming from. As the leader it was probably hard to always please everyone and Sam was obviously siding with Paul because he’d been part of his pack longer, friends when they were younger and he knew what it felt like to have the need to protect your mate. Still, they would just have to get used to it.

Leah soon woke and then left, pack duties. You would be put on duties soon enough, but first, you needed training. So that left you with a day of doing nothing, well, that was until you heard a knock on your.. bedroom window?

You grabbed the first thing that was closest to you for protection, a hairdryer. You hadn’t opened your curtains yet so couldn’t see what horror awaited, what if that red headed vamp followed you, but wait, wouldn’t you smell her? Or are your abilities not heightened enough yet? You got closer to the window when there was a knock again. The closer you got the happier you felt. Frikin Paul. Curtains pulled back, balcony door opened, your soulmate stumbled through wearing nothing but shorts.

“Babe, you’re a werewolf, were you seriously going to attack me with a hairdryer?"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

@mariasblogsworld @rosella26 @punkfrogz @jjpogueprincess

@angeliken

@yoongitoo

@stinkii-boii

@geminidas

83 notes · View notes

fractured · 2 years

Note

the main lisa folks (Brad, Buddy, Buzzo, etc)

Because this is a biggie im going to take a very swift break on the others BUT!...

Brad -

Favorite thing: He is very Real in the sense of he's the first ever "protagonist" that I felt was authentic both in nature, his addictions, so on so forth. He is just painfully human in all the right and wrong ways, raw for lack of a better word and I love it. His appearance is also just VERY recognizable and has all the right keys for a memorable character. Least favorite thing: He could not raise a child if his life depended on it

Fanon peeves: I hate that people always jump down the stairs to "well if Brad had just TALKED about his dead sister and his abuse things would be different" because while, bluntly speaking, that is true (as in it could have prevented quite literally everything down to a T) it is just not how the world or trauma works. Theres a severe abundance of people who have never been abused in their lives who tend to open their mouth often in the community and its obvious that its never occurred to them that everything is a lose/lose/lose in these games and every single event was inevitable. It was already doomed.

Buddy -

Favorite thing: I really like her design I think the contrast between the beginning & ending of Painful was really good and her fighting style is probably 1 of my favorites

Least favorite thing: The really unnecessary move that Austin crammed elbow deep into Joyful LOL

Fanon pet peeve: Really weird habit of either over glorifying or over demonizing her actions when in reality what she did and decided upon was literally the same thing any 10 ish yr old in her situation would do

Buzzo - Favorite thing: Great representation of what grudge-holding, misunderstanding and lack of closure will do to you. I like that there was no 'redemption'. Another raw display on a completely different plane and I think it was best that there was no real or authentic come back from that. Lived and died more or less the exact same though I know a lot of people count the mutation delirium as the "realization".

Least favorite thing: Probably the lack on family background but maybe we will get that later

Fanon pet peeve: People who write novels about me and have very clearly done little to no real analyzing or have bothered to look at anything Ive ever said or done with anything besides a careful lens or try to justify anything that was carried out (Im being as vague as possible for spoilers LOL)

Rando - Favorite thing: One of my favorite character designs ever... Truly wonderful and I love the trope of meek guy pretending to be extremely confident/strong and only getting to his position via visual intimidation alone. Roffle...

Least favorite thing: His heart was in the right place but ultimately he still fell in line within the same line as the others, even if it was considered a kinder approach.

Fanon pet peeve: Acting like he has never done anything wrong / praising his ideals and such, just again a really huge case of poor analysis.

#deep house

9 notes · View notes

pinoyrella · 3 years

Text

“A Love So Beautiful” Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Two Days and One Night

FT: Tsukishima Kei, Yamaguchi Tadashi, Hinata Shoyo, Kageyama Tobio, Yachi Hitoka, Fukurodani + Nekoma + Nohebi

TW: Mild Language + Minor Injuries (Kuroo get a lil booboo, Yaku ankle go brrr)

Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst, Coming of Age + Slow Burn

- This chapter contains fluff, comedy and drama.

WORD COUNT: 5,000+

“A LOVE SO BEAUTIFUL” Masterlist 🌸

A/N: HIIIII omg how r u guys 🥺 i was having a hard time figuring out how to... do this chapter, but i hope you enjoy! pls forgive me for the cringe and cheesiness of everything i fken swear im trying but i- ToT call me macaroni bc i be cheesy 🙈

PS: This chapter is taking place during the Cats vs. Owls OVA that comes after season 3! (and also a few minutes of s3 ep10)... I’m trying my best to line up the story w the actual series ToT, so it’s currently ur first year - spring time! Cherry blossom season is coming!!!🌸

A warm Friday afternoon.

“What do you guys think of this design?” Yachi asks as she passes a paper over to you and Tsukishima as Yamaguchi leans in from her side. You drop your pen to your notebook before picking up the small flyer, bringing it closer to the three of you.

“This looks great Yachi! What’s it for?” She stands immediately, her hands clenched into a fist while her eyes shine with excitement. “It’s a rough sketch for the volleyball club’s poster!” “Whoa, that’s so cool! So this is what a manager’s job is?” She nods as you hand the flyer back, smiling to your friend; happy that she’s having fun and enjoying her job.

“Hey” The four of you turn your heads, watching as Kageyama makes his way through the door. “AAAAAAAHHHHHH!” The sound of a familiar scream comes down the hallway.

The four of you watch as Hinata shoves past Kageyama, nearly knocking him over. “HEY!” Kageyama begins to charge until noticing the presence of his classmates. He lets out a low grumble before following the orange boy, making his way to you.

“GUYS!” Hinata jumps excitedly, looking between the four of you. “Look!” He pulls his phone out, facing it to you guys, completely ignoring Kageyama next to him. “What is it?” Yachi asks, confused. Hinata takes his phone back and realizes his photo gallery is on-screen. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi hide a snicker before he immediately changes it to his text messages, bringing the phone back to you guys.

On his screen shows the flyer for “Japan’s National Tournament, Tokyo Area Qualifiers”. The five of you look up to him in confusion as he continues, “Let’s go!”

...

“WHAT?”

And this is where you found yourself, a suitcase in hand as you make your way to your seat on the Shinkansen. You try to lift your suitcase above to the compartment, but the weight of the baggage slips past your grasp. You brace yourself for impact before you open your eyes to see it in the compartment above you. Feeling a presence to your left, you turn to find Kageyama.

“Let me help you from now on” he says softly, his hand resting on the back of a seat as one is holding onto the strap of his backpack. You immediately take a step back before thanking him, making your way to sit beside Yachi.

Just behind Kageyama is Hinata, following Yamaguchi and Tsukishima, as well as other passengers. Tsukishima, obviously unamused onto why there’s a hold up “Hey King, could you hurry up?” Kageyama realizes there’s a line of people behind him, immediately sitting in the seat to the front of you.

Hinata throws his luggage above before plopping down to the side of Kageyama, Yamaguchi and Tsukishima following.

The announcement for the bullet train begins, and you soon fall into a quiet slumber, your head resting against Yachi.

“Y/n, Yachi-san… Yachi! Y/N!” You are awakened to Yamaguchi’s voice “Wake up idiot, we’re here” You turn to find Tsukishima’s face just inches away from yours. Surprised, you jump, bumping your head against Yachi’s, waking you both up.

“Ah!” You both yelp, holding onto your heads. Kageyama turns from his seat to the sound of your cry, only to find Tsukishima’s face close to yours. “Tsukki!” You hiss before apologizing to Yachi.

“Come on guys, let’s go” Yamaguchi begins removing your luggages from the compartment above, as the six of you make your way off the train. Moving through the crowd of people towards the station.

“Are we there yet?” You yawn, still exhausted, before bumping into Tsukishima’s back. “We’re here, open your eyes idiot.” You slowly open your eyes, looking up to the building in front of you. “It looks so cozy” Yachi compliments as the six of you make your way inside. “Akaashi and Bokuto-san sent me this address, one of their teammates’ relatives owns this place!” Hinata says. “No wonder you’re able to provide a place for all of us to stay for the night” Tsukishima replies, before noticing you were no longer behind him.

The sound of a huff causes him to turn around. As he turns, he sees you struggling to move your luggage above the doorstep. Sighing, he makes his way to you, but Kageyama rushes past him, helping and assisting you instead. The carpet had stuck to the wheel of your suitcase.

Tsukishima’s eyes widened in shock by the sudden movement of his teammate, before rolling his eyes, turning his attention back to his other friends.

“Thanks Tobio!” You thank as he gives another smile. “I told you, let me help you from now on” He says, tapping the right of your shoulder; before the two of you walk after your group.

Hinata and Yamaguchi make their way to the register, collecting the room key as the six of you make your way to your room.

Yamaguchi inserts the key, twisting it before Hinata opens the door, jumping right in. “TA DA!” He cheers, the five of you walking in, Tsukishima yet again, unamused.

“This room is insanely big” You comment as you settle your suitcase to the side.

“It’s going to be like a sleepover!” Hinata exclaims, Yamaguchi turning his head. “Oh, you’re right Hinata!” “Thank god it’s only for one night.” Tsukishima bluntly adds, before exploring the cupboards.

Hinata then brings his wrist up to check the time. “AH!” “What?!” The five of you turn in concern for your friend’s sudden outburst. “We have to hurry!”

The sound of shoes squeaking against the floor echo throughout the building along with balls.

“Wow, so this is the Sumida City Gymnasium?” You walk ahead of your friends, looking around before turning to face them. “It’s so much bigger than the one in Sendai!” “Well, this is Tokyo” Tsukishima replies, Yamaguchi giving a sheepish smile, before the sound of squabbling catches your attention.

“WHAT WAS THAT?!” “Stop it Yamamoto, don’t let that snake bastard get to you.” The man in green smiles, pointing his finger to the calmer guy in red. “You always have that hair, are you sure you’re not lying about your height? Are you actually 180 cm-” “HUH?! I’d never do something so petty!”

You watch as the three go at it, before someone from the red team’s group notices you guys. “Shoyo?” One says quietly as he makes his way over to you guys.

“Kenma-san!” Hinata runs over, meeting Kenma half way as the five of you follow. You hear Kageyama mumbling. “Nekoma’s setter… Nekoma’s setter… Nekoma’s setter…”

“You made it” Kenma says before Hinata nods. “Bokuto-san sent me the flyer! Akaashi-san’s teammate gave us a place to stay, and it fell into our weekend, I didn’t want to miss it!” Kenma nods before turning to face you and the others, feeling chills down the spine of his back when making eye contact with Kageyama.

“Hey, it’s skinny!” Tsukishima jolts, as Nekoma’s team follows their captain, making their way to your group and Kenma. “Long time no see, don’t tell me you’ve grown taller” “Kuroo-san” You watch the two, before the one named Kuroo turns to you. “I haven’t seen you before” He leans down, closer to your height. Tsukishima watches as he does so, feeling a bit irritated. “Hmm”

You become flustered, unable to move as his face comes closer to yours, before you feel someone pull you behind. Kageyama stands in between you two, having you to his back, silently staring at the taller senior. Everyone is surprised by Kageyama’s action, especially Kuroo before eyeing back up to his regular level as he smiles down at him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare your friend” Kageyama ignores him, turning to face you and whispering “Are you okay?” Kuroo is left shocked by being ignored, and his teammates snicker behind him.

“I- I-” You stutter, still flustered before another player, much calmer and collected from Nekoma, approaches you. The tall figure gives you a sincere apology for his captain’s behavior. “I’m sorry about that, our captain can be a little…” He turns to look back to Kuroo, before looking to you. “A little bitch” A much shorter boy with strawberry blonde hair joins in, Kenma letting out a snort.

“HUH?! YAKU- if anyone’s a little bitch it's your short ass, Mr. 165 cm.” “165.2 CM DICKWAD!” You watch as the two seniors get into a catfight before another player walks into the situation. “Kuroo-san!” Said man turns his attention to his teammate. “The girls’ game will be done soon”

Kuroo responds with an “alright” before collecting his team together. “Be sure to cheer us on, kitten~” He winks to you before bidding your friends a farewell, walking off.

Your team makes their way up the bleachers, listening to the announcer announce Fukurodani and Nekoma’s match. You watch as a very muscular man throws his jacket in the air, only for his teammate to catch it. “BOKUTO-SAN!” Hinata cheers besides you.

The crowd from Fukurodani’s side begins to chant, before Nekoma is announced. You turn your attention to a much shorter girl with a megaphone. “Go, go Nekoma! Push it, push it Nekoma!” “Great job Cheer Captain Akane!”

The bell goes off as both teams make it to their sides, the lineup and game beginning.

Watching as Fukurodani takes the first serve, you turn to see the excitement in both Hinata and Kageyama’s eyes.

Turning your attention back to the court, Akaashi proceeds to set the ball to Bokuto. Your eyes sparkle as you see how high the man can jump, then the sound of him smashing the ball, as it hit’s Kuroo’s palm, causing it to fly up.

You don't realize the direction it’s flying too, your eyes widening as the ball comes directly your way. You bring your palms up at the perfect time, catching the volleyball immediately in your hands. You stare at it in shock as all eyes turn to you.

“HEY! HEY! HEY!!!” Bokuto cheers along with his school, getting the point.

The game continues, Fukurodani taking the lead. “Holy crap, Bokuto is a beast” You watch as the millionth spike he hit touches the ground of Nekoma’s side. “Right?! He’s so cool! Hinata exclaims before you both turn to the court, only to notice a sudden change in Bokuto’s mood, after Kuroo blocks his spike.

The crowd goes silent, and you turn to Hinata making a face of confusion.

Bokuto’s attitude changes completely, causing a break to be issued, Akaashi giving the man a pep talk.

The break ends, and they are back to the game. You notice Bokuto’s attitude had gone back to his original state, as he becomes happy to spike yet again.

“It must have been Akaashi-san who brought Bokuto-san backup.” Tsukishima comments, crossing his arms as he becomes invested into the game. You turn to smile at him, not knowing he was actually watching.

The gym goes quiet, the final set, and Bokuto’s team is winning. Nekoma is under pressure before Bokuto sends one final spike down, earning the final win for Fukurodani.

Nekoma falls in defeat, you feel remorse along with Hinata for them, knowing Hinata really hoped to play against them at Nationals.

The six of you walk out of the gym. “So… Nekoma isn’t going to Nationals?” You ask, feeling stupid for asking such a question, before Yamaguchi speaks. “No, not unless they lose this next match.” “What?” “For Tokyo, unlike Miyagi, they have two Representative slots open, while a third for venue sponsorship.” He explains as you tilt your head, still confused. “Dumbass” Tsukishima jokingly insults, flicking your forehead. “There are four teams playing here, only one of those four won’t be able to go to Nationals. The other three, will be going. If Nekoma wins the next match against the other team, they will be going to Nationals” Tsukishima explains in a much easier way. “Ah! Thanks Tsukki!” You thank him, not even realizing he had called you a dumbass.

“What are we waiting for? Let’s go cheer them on!” You exclaim, the five cheering after you. “Yeah!”

“Do you even know where the next match is being held?” You stop to turn, looking at Tsukishima. “Nope!” You say with a smile.

You follow as Yamaguchi leads you to another court, on the other side of the venue.

As you make your way past the gates, you stop with Yachi, the delicious scent of food surrounding the air. Yamaguchi and Tsukishima turn to see you too, before looking at each other. “Do you guys want to get food before the game starts?” You look up to your two friends, pleading with puppy eyes before Tsukishima sighs.

“Hinata, Kageyama!” Yamaguchi calls his friends ahead of them. The two stop to turn as you run up to them. “Do you guys want anything from the stalls?” You ask. “You guys can go find the seats! I can take care of everything myself!” You state, as Tsukishima looks to you. “By yourself? You have two hands. Two hands. You barely even know how to use them, and there’s six of us. There’s no way you can gather food for everyone, and make it back in one piece.” The blonde bean pole says, before you give him a pout.

“I’ll go with you boss.” Kageyama butts in, standing to your side as he ruffles your hair. “Tobio! Stop doing that” You laugh as you fix your hair before looking back to Tsukishima. “That settles it! Now go, get us seats!” You shoo your friends away before walking away with Kageyama, missing the glare Tsukishima gives Kageyama.

Standing in front of a takoyaki stall, you order the biggest plate, before noticing Kageyama to the stall besides you. Paying for your order and taking the ticket, you make your way to Kageyama as he pays for something.

“What did you get?!” You ask him in excitement. He jumps in surprise by your sudden presence before looking down to you, bringing the item he had brought up to your view. You stare as it dangles from his fingertips, a cute trinket in the shape of a strawberry milk carton. You blink before he grabs the ends of your bag, bringing it up to his level.

You watch in confusion as he is attaching it to your bag’s zipper, before speaking.

“It’s for you” He looks to meet you eyes as he gently drops your bag, letting it hang off your arm again. You stare at him, before looking down to it, then back up to him. “What? Tobio-” “It just reminded me of you.” He says giving a soft smile before taking the ticket from your hand and walking back to the takoyaki stall.

You watch as he walks off, looking down to the keychain with a small smile, really grateful for a friend like him.

Making your way into the gym, you scan to find Yamaguchi waving for you. “Kageyama- Y/n! Over here!” You make your way to them, Kageyama follows with the box of takoyaki in his hands. Handing out the sticks, you push Kageyama to be in the middle, then opening the lid to the box.

“It smells so good!” Hinata exclaims as he’s about to poke his stick into a ball. “Thank you y/n!” Yamaguchi and Yachi say in sync, as you make your way to Tsukishima, handing him a stick before he declines. “Are you not hungry?” “Not really” He bluntly replies, you pout again before turning back to the others, stabbing your stick into a ball.

Then turning your attention back to the court, seeing the game between Nekoma and Nohebi has already begun.

“Lev! Stop flailing your arms around! I can’t dig the damn ball!” Yaku yells, scolding the taller boy. “But Yaku-san, you’ll still get the ball no matter what!” He snaps back frustrated. You watch as the Yaku scratches the back of his head, taking it as a compliment. Kuroo gives him a look of annoyance before resuming back to their positions.

The game between the two continues, Nohebi taking the lead as Nekoma fights back. Just as Nohebi’s captain is about to spike, Lev jumps, sending it flying upwards. “One touch!” He yells, as Yamamoto runs after to hit it, then causing it to fly further away. “Shit!”

Just as the ball makes it into the audience, you watch as Yaku catches up to it, sending it back to the court. “WOW!” You cheer for him, impressed by his quick reflexes. Turning your attention towards the ball, you watch as Nohebi tries to keep the ball from touching the floor. Their captain, sending it flying up towards the net, before Lev jumps again, immediately smashing the ball back down to their side of the court.

The gym cheers as Lev turns to Yaku in excitement. Your eyes follow his, only to see Yamamoto assisting Yaku. “He fell-” Yamaguchi says. “He landed on someone’s foot as he was trying to get the ball.” You look at Yamaguchi before back down at Yaku limping. Yaku turns to apologize to the guest before facing the court. “I’m fine!” He yells, taking a step and immediately feeling a shock of pain course through him.

Just as he falls, Yamamoto catches him as their coach makes their way to them. “Shibayama!”

“I hope Yaku-san’s going to be okay” Yachi adds as the match continues. You watch as the coach tends to Yaku’s wound, before going back to the game.

Nekoma struggles, getting used to Shibayama now on court. Nohebi is still in the lead and the gym watches in anticipation.

Shibayama visibly looks calmer, adjusting himself before Daisho spikes the ball towards him. You hold your breath until Shibayama is able to stop the ball, sending it up before Kuroo smashes it back down to Nohebi’s side of the court.

“All right!” Nekoma cheers as you give out a sigh of relief. “You seem really invested into the game” You turn and notice Tsukishima looking down towards you. “Well, it’s really interesting…” You blush, stabbing another ball and plopping it into your mouth.

Nekoma begins catching up, getting used to the new player on the court, very close to winning the set.

The whistle blows, a new player making his way onto the court.

“A pinch server” You overhear behind you. “Didn’t that guy dislocate his thumb in the last match?” Turning your attention back to the court, you watch just as the ball barely hits the net. Kuroo and Nobuyaki catch it, before Fukunaga sends it to the other side. You watch the ball, thinking it would make it in before the whistle blows once again. “Out!” The pinch server yells.

“Out? No way!” Hinata cries. Bringing your hand up to your chin, “He blocked it”. Your friends turn to you, as you continue. “I saw the ball, it was in the court, but the pinch server guy, he extended his fists to block the referee from seeing it.” “Whoa…” “Talk about conniving” Tsukishima adds, before taking the stick in your hand, stabbing a ball and bringing it up into his mouth.

You turn to look up at him, watching as he puts the same stick you had placed on your lips to his. ‘Indirect kiss’ You think, bringing your palms up to cover your face, letting out an internal scream.

“Y/n-chan!” Yachi faces you. Kageyama and Hinata turn to look at you, then to Tsukishima, before Tsukishima looks back to them shrugging his shoulders as he focuses back on the game.

“Shibayama!” You watch the captain make his way off the court. “Wait- What happened to Kuroo-san?” “I think he busted his fingernail” “Ouch....” Turning your attention to the scoreboard, Nekoma is a point away from winning the game, to have their captain subbed out at a time like this is a big risk.

Daisho jumps, aiming for Lev before switching to Shibayama. Fortunately, the boy is able to receive it, sending it to Yamamoto before he aims to smash it. The ball then touching the Nohebi’s middle blocker’s hands before flying up, and far from the court. You watch as Daisho attempts to chase after it, only for it to fall, finally touching the floor. The match has ended.

“Thanks for the game!” The teams exchange before Yaku meets with his team, eyes filled with tears as he hugs them.

You watch as Kenma looks up to the stands, finding Hinata and giving him a nod. You turn to your friend, watching the smile spread throughout his face. He can’t wait to play against them at Nationals.

Walking out of the venue, you look up to notice as it’s night time already.

“I didn’t even think it was so dark outside already” You comment, Kageyama turning his head to you, watching the moon shine in your eyes. “We better get going before” Yamaguchi states, leading the way back to the cozy inn.

“Ah!” You let out, dipping into the onsen besides Yachi. “This feels so good!” Your cheeks redden from the temperature in the room. “This is so relaxing, I’m so happy we were all able to come together, traveling is so much fun, especially with your friends” Yachi replies before you give her a smirk. “And especially without your parents!”

The two of you share a laugh as the boys prepare the futons.

“One, two, three, four...” Yamaguchi counts. “I think we’re missing two more futons.” “Really?” Hinata recounts the futons. “Oh, I’ll go ask for more!” “I’ll come with you Hinata!” Yamaguchi exits the room with Hinata, unintentionally leaving Kageyama and Tsukishima together.

The two not even realizing they were the only ones left in the room, turn to face each other, then turning around to scan the room, only to notice Yamaguchi and Hinata are no longer with them. The tension is intense and super awkward.

They separate, going to opposite sides of the room.

As Tsukishima is about to place his headphones on, he feels a stare from behind him. Turning to see Kageyama staring at him. “What?”

Kageyama turns away immediately. “N-n… Kni.. Knife… N...” “Huh?” “Nothing!” “You should have said it clearly the first time.” Tsukishima glares back before you walk in with Yachi.

“Oh? Where are Yamaguchi and Hinata?” You ask. “Right behind ya! Excuse us” Yamaguchi replies, as Hinata runs in, dropping the futons down. “I told you I could have helped carry one.” Yamaguchi sighs before helping spread the last two futons out.

You turn your attention back to Kageyama, who is in the corner of the room. Making your way over, you squat to him. “Why are you so far away from us Tobio?” Kageyama snaps his head, coming face to face with you. He immediately stands, flustered from the close contact, before you rise up with him, giggling. All while Tsukishima hears your giggles through his headphones.

As night falls, you lay on your futon, your eyes shut as the sound of rustling keeps you awake.

“Hinata?” You whisper. The rustling stops, as he turns around facing you. “Yeah?” “You okay?” You ask in concern. “I can’t really sleep, did you bring your stationery pouch?” He replies quietly. “Ah” As you reach over to your bag to grab the pouch for him, the lights turn on, waking everyone up.

“Ugh-” “What happened?” “Hinata, what the hell” Tsukishima puts his glasses on, looking up slowly to the boy standing in the middle of the room, facing the five of you.

“Lets play a game!”

“A game?” The three question as Kageyama is still asleep in his futon.

And this is where you found yourselves, gathered in a circle around the kotatsu.

Hinata makes his way around, handing each person a slip of paper as your pens are spread across the middle of the kotatsu.

“Okay, now everyone grab a pen!” You all grab a pen, waiting for the boy’s instructions.

“In this game, we are going to write down a confession. Then, we are going to fold it, place it in the center of the table, mix it around, and we are all going to take one script!” He says as he plops back down to his seat in excitement. “What are we, 8? This is so stupid” Tsukishima comments before removing the cap of the pen, wanting to get this over with.

Intrigued, you take your pen, resting it above the slip of paper thinking of what to say. You try your best to sneak a peek from your friends’ slips, but you are all spread out a little too far. You put the pen to your chin before your eyes wander to Tsukishima, an idea finally popping to mind.

‘I really like someone in this group, but please keep it a secret.’ You write before folding your paper, being the first to drop it in the center of the table. Tsukishima glances up, giving a low smile seeing you excited, even for such a silly game.

Just as everyone drops their slip on the center of the table, Hinata jumps, swooping the papers up into his hand, and shaking them around if he were rolling dice, before bringing his cupped hands around, asking for everyone to grab a script.

You take one from his palm, waiting for the next instruction. Once Hinata makes his way to everyone, a single slip in his hands he begins. “Ready? Okay, let’s open them!”

You all begin to slowly open your scripts, reading what is written. You freeze as you read yours.

‘I’m in love with Y/n.’

You feel your soul leave your body, immediately looking around between the group of your friends, then to Tsukishima as he keeps his eyes on his.

“Yay! We’re done, okay goodnight” Hinata says before jumping back into the covers of his futon, immediately turning and falling asleep.

The five of you look at the boy in disbelief, before heading to bed.

You toss and turn in your futon, unable to fall asleep. Slowly getting up, you make your way out to the balcony, shutting the sliding door quietly as you lean on the railing.

Letting out a huff, you gaze up into the sky, resting your head against your arm, not noticing the door sliding open and close.

“What are you going?” You jump, turning around to see Tsukishima standing with his hands in the pockets of his team jacket. Letting out a sigh, you pout as he makes his way over besides you, leaning his back against the railing.

“Don’t scare me like that!” You quietly scold him before turning yourself to the night sky, missing the small smile he gave.

“I couldn’t sleep” You admit, as you rest your chin on your arm again. “That makes two of us” He replies, turning to lean on the railing with you, facing the night sky. “What happened?” You look at him before answering. “Nothing much really, I’m just overthinking.”

Tsukishima stays silent, the guilt still eating him up from the time he had brought you to tears during the Spring Interhigh Finals. Were you just as bothered by this as he was? Has it been keeping you awake restless at night? Did he really do this to you? He wishes, if he could promise to never hurt you again, he wouldn’t waste a second to commit.

But really, you were thinking of the confession you received on the script. You don’t realize how quiet Tsukishima’s been before you ask him. “Why are you still awake?” He looks to you immediately, staring into your eyes before shrugging. “I just felt off” “Off? What’s wrong Tsukki?” You ask concerned. He lets out a sigh, before standing up completely, facing you.

You watch as he gazes down at your features, confused as he takes his hands out from his pockets.

“I’m sorry y/n” He begins, looking straight into your eyes. The look he gives you, is a look of absolute sincerity. You tilt your head, still confused, as you were about to respond he continues. “I’m really sorry about what happened during the Spring Interhigh Finals, in the infirmary.” Your eyes widening, remembering that day.

“I…” He continues, and you listen. “I didn’t mean anything I said. I was very frustrated with the game, and how useless I felt when I had to leave because I let myself get hurt during the match… It’s still honestly, not an excuse to take everything out on you. But after seeing-” He stops himself, his eyes turning away as he was just about to admit his final outburst was due to seeing you in Kageyama’s jersey.

“After seeing?” You question still looking up to him. “After seeing… you… in Kageyama’s jersey…” He mumbles the end as he takes a deep breath looking back to you, completely flustered. You blink, looking down, registering what he just said. ‘After seeing me copy a jerky?’

He takes a step closer to you, “It was the last straw, and I allowed my harsh emotions to drown you.” You turn your attention back to him. “You didn’t deserve that. Especially when you were there for me. When you came to support me, and the team. And, I know it doesn’t look like it at most times, maybe all the time, but, I appreciate you so much. I’m very fortunate to have you in my life, even after so long.” You look up to him. “I’m really sorry y/n.” He finishes, his gaze stuck to you as he awaits your response.

You blink once more, eyes tearing as you give a warm smile. These are one of those very rare moments with Tsukishima you have come to treasure deeply. “I forgive you Tsukishima Kei.”

His eyes widen as his body comes closer, his arms wrapping around you unconsciously. You still, surprised by his action. Before exhaling calmly as you feel the warmth from him around you. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you cling to him. Your face pressed into his jacket, mumbling something.

“Huh?” Tsukishima pulls away, his arms still wrapped around you as he looks at you in confusion. “What did you say?” “Can you make me a promise, Tsukki?” He stares, waiting for your request. “Can you promise to never hurt me again?” Not even taking a second to think. “I promise, pipsqueak.”

“You get three strikes, this is your first one” You give a final cheeky smile before muffling your face back into his sweater as he lets out a sigh of relief, placing a hand to the back of your head, bringing his chin to rest above it.

He promises to himself as he holds you close, a smile warming his face.

‘And it will be the last.’

A/N #2: WAAAA!!! thank you so much again for reading💞 im sorry if tsukki seems a little off, i wanna think tsukki is actually v soft when it comes to emotional and sentimental situations.. at least w the ppl he doesnt mind showing that side to, u kno what i mean?

ohh!!! i also have one more or 2 exciting news!!!

i have another series wip on the way! once im able to get the prologue and at least plan the next 5 chapters, it’ll be posted!! im so excited bc i love osamu sm pls.. oops i said his name 😳

i also plan for another series but, im still debating whether or not to write it bc, as u can see, i cant write angst for shit let alone write in general how r u guys still here ASDFGHJKL😭

anyways, i hope to see you in the next chapter!! thank you so much for putting up with my bad grammar and english, i love uuu guys 💖

i will now go back to my excessive amount of homework and studying to do, let us pray for my dumbass, amen.😔🙏🏼

TAGLIST: @cvlliesstuff , @strawberries-en-cream , @beanst0ck , @kimiiiiiiiiii, @lucyheartfilias-wife , @lanatheawesome , @owlnymph .

PLEASE LEMME KNOW IN THE COMMENTS (OR IN ASKS) IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST!!!

“A LOVE SO BEAUTIFUL” Masterlist 🌸

52 notes · View notes

theravencawsatmidnight · 4 years

Text

Pink Chains (cont.)

Kyotani owns a grunge /punk apparel shop after leaving the Sendai Frogs after a incident with the Black Jackals. He designs his own clothes and hires Oikawa & Iwaizumi as his employees. Everything goes smoothly for awhile, till you walk in; pink dress, big smile , and bubbly personality. His whole life stops in that moment.

Punk! Kyotani x Bubbly F! reader. Aka my favorite cliche trope. It lives in my head every second of the day.

Brief Violence

The rest of the first half and all ive got so far ! / first half at the bottom !!

Your home was a cheap studio apartment not far from the college; a small studio with a cute bed by the window , a table with a bunch of markers with a big sketchbook sitting in the middle . You had the basic needs and a little couch in the corner but no tv , but there was a little pink cat bed next to the couch.

Kyo stuffed his hands in his pockets looking around the studio , it was weird being in a small studio for him since he has a home . Everything seemed shoved into one or two spots. He sat down on the couch and you were looking a little embarrassed, fussing with your dress .

“I know its not much but ! Its my little space heh, Mocha is probably in her little house sleeping. She will wake up soon though now that im home !!!” You picked up some clothes out of a basket. “Ill be right back , make yourself at home!”

“Okay sweetie.” He leaned forward dipping his head down to look in the cat hut . He could see a tiny kitten sleeping in it and smirked leaning back into the couch getting comfortable, well as much as he could in tight jeans. Kyo peeled his jacket off and pulled his phone out to check it .

Group Chat

Mattsun/ picture

Oikawa/ OOOOOO

Iwaizumi/ i knew pink was your color

Kyotonai/ guess where i am

Iwaizumi/well i dont see you so not at home

Oikawa/ are you at her house ?!?

Kyotani/yep, invited me to stay the night

Mattsun/ oh my , how adult

Kyotani/ shut up Mattsun

Oikawa/ hope you brought condoms

Iwaizumi/ be gentle with her

Kyotani/we aint gonna fuck i just didint want to leave yet

Oikawa/ 😙😙😙😗😙😙😙

Mattsun/ 😳😳😳😳😳

Iwaizumi/ 😒

Kyotani / i hate all of you

Iwa,Kawa, Mattsun/ 💕💞♥️

Kyo put his phone on the table when he saw you come out of the restroom, you were wearing a red panda shirt and matching shorts . Mocha emerged from her home too and meowed for attention . Kyo could not stop looking at you, so cute, so , so cute..

“Mocha! “ you bent down and picked up the brown kitten taking a seat next to Kyo to show him. “Shes a rescue ! I saw her all alone and i just had to help her.”

Kyo took the kitten from you and set it on his lap to pet her. “Shes cute” he leaned back tugging at his jeans trying to relax.

“Whats wrong?” You asked, Kyos lap to pet the happy kitten.

“Had these jeans on all day, i dont want to.. make you uncomfortable.”

Mocha nuzzled into Kyos stomach getting comfy and looked like she was not movin for any reason.

“I dont mine but.. you better do it fast because Mocha is not gonna care that you wanna take em off.”

Gently he lifted to kitten to fuss with his belt , you giggled getting up and grabbing your sketchbook. “Can i show you.. heh my drawings.”

“Of course sweetie, you draw?” He asked , pulling his jeans down with one hand and Mocha in the other. Kyo had on black and pink boxers . “Ugn finally..” he set Mocha back on his lap and placed the jeans on his jacket feeling a little unsure if he should have taken em off.

You hid behind your sketchbook when you saw him on the couch in his boxers. Kyo had tone legs from volleyball and a few tattoos on his legs along with some bruises and knicks.

Kyo looked down at Mocha feeling a little embarrassed. Why were skinny jeans so damn uncomfortable after a while? He asked as he pet the little kitten.

You sat down with him criss cross with the sketchbook on your lap. “Yep! I'm in college for art and design. I want to one day get picked up by a clothing store and have my drawings on shirts”

Kyo leaned towards you looking over the sketches with wide eyes. They might have been all cute things; like kittens, red pandas, hearts, patterns and space but they were so damn good. “You have a real talent these are awesome.”

“Really?!?”

“Yes sweetie. Id put these on my shirts. Oh that reminds me..”

“Oh my gosh!! Kyo that would be so cool!” Gently you placed the sketchbook on the table and looked at Kyo, he was a looking a little unsure of himself. “Whats wrong..?”

“Why exactly did you come into my store ? Ive never seen you in it before”

“ uhm Kyo.. you have a shirt in the window with kittens on it.. so.. “

He laughed wrapping his arm around you making you laugh too. “My ‘Sad Day’ shirt? With all the grumpy cats?”

“Its so cute, how could I not!!!” You hit his chest lightly not liking his tone.

“Okay okay.” Lightly he grabbed one of your hands holding it close. “Happy you did, really.” His eyes drifted off you and around the room.

“Kyo?” You inched closer, picking Mocha up leaning down to place her in her hut.

Kyo picked you up and sat you down on his lap facing him, placing his hands at your hips. He leaned back spreading his legs. “Yes? Sweetie..?” You could feel he was a little hard, it was really hot between your legs..

“Im happy i did too.. i really like you.”

His heart thumped a few times. “First girl to say that to me…” he rested his elbow on the arm of the couch to support his head. “I wasn't the nicest guy in highschool, i'll never forget the day Yahaba slammed me into that wall and told me to get my shit together.”

You looked a little sad at his words, Kyo only mentioned his aggression one other time but even then he sounded upset and full of regret.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked him , cupping his cheeks so he would look at you. His eyes told you ‘yes, yes please.’ But.. “No, i just want to hold you if that's okay.”

“Okay. If we fall asleep my alarm is going to go off at 8 so sorry in advance.” You got comfortable on his lap and Kyo tipped your chin up so you were looking at him.

“Would you be more comfortable on the bed?”

“Yes i think so. I dont think i can sleep like this. Hehe.”

Kyo gripped your hips picking you up, he stepped over Mochas hut and brought you to the bed to lay down with you, his face a little red. You latched onto his sleeve closing your eyes and drifting off. “Night Kyo..”

“G’night sweetie..”

Fuck what was he doing ? Talking about it will help.. right? Kyo had to wait a bit before you were fully asleep to get up and grab his phone.

Kyotani/ Iwaizumi

Iwaizumi/ Yes

Kytotani/ keep this between us

Iwaizumi/ you didn't hit it and ditch did you?

Kyotani/ what? No.

Iwaizumi/ are you scared to make it official Kyo

Kyo stared at the text for a few minutes reading it over and over .

Iwaizumi/ is it the anger issues

He squeezed his phone and sat down on the couch dialing his phone.

“Im scared ill lash out or something”

“Mm.. when was the last time that happened again?”

“The Tourney against the Black Jackals.”

“Ah yes, think Kei had to pry you off Bokuto or something right?”

“Yes… Iwaizumi i can't lash out at her. I just can't, i mentioned Yahaba and that day and she asked if i wanted to talk about it”

“You said ’no’, didn't you” Sigh “Kyotani she's not a threat, she's not an enemy . She's literally just a girl who likes you. Open up to her”

“How.”

“Uuhhmmmm, tell her you want to talk about it. I'm going to bed. You can do this Kyotani”

He hung up .

Kyo rubbed his face for a minute and glanced at you for a minute then back to his phone opening up Messages.

Kyotani/ Mattsun i know your asleep but invite Yahaba to the beach volleyball.

He set his phone down and very slowly made his way back to you. He wrapped his arms around your sleeping body and shut his eyes tight trying to sleep.

In the morning Kyo was awake early browsing on his phone, he stared at the screen for a minute before pressing Play on the video.

-flash back-

‘Another score for the Black Jackals!!! It is Match Point !!! ‘

The Sendai frogs were tired, sweaty and losing this Tournament. The Black Jackals were still full of energy and ready to go . It was a very hard game for both sides and Bokuto kept testing Kyotani, this was the first time he met the loud grey haired boy and he just did not like him. He knew Hinata but he did not like him too much.

Kyotani was doing better at keeping his temper under control and his team figured out how to hype him up without making him angry. Kei was not too fond of him but then again he did not really need to be, they just needed to be on the same page on the court.

That owl boy though, he was loud, annoying , and just testing him. Kyotani knew it, every serve, block, and spike was for him to clear or get rid of . Kyotani got hit with the ball a couple times and thats when he lost it.

‘Kyotani has taken another hit from the ball!!!’ Yelled the annoucer .

“Hey hey hey?!! Eye on the ball yea!??”

“Dont let it get to you” Kei told him .

“.........”

“..Kyot-“

He was on the other side of the net ontop of Bokuto punching him .The whole building was dead silent.

The last thing Kyotani remembered was hearing the announcer describe what was happening and Kei pulling him off of Bokuto.

He quit the Sendai Frogs that day, took his last check and left not looking back. He opened an apparel shop he called The Dog House and got in touch with his old highschool teammates starting over.

-end flashback-

You woke up to see Kyos hand on your head , you were not fully awake so you just laid there enjoying the nice feeling on your head. Mocha had also joined you in bed and was between you both sleeping. Kyo smelled like leather… an old leather that was renewed, it made your nose crinkle a bit. Looking up you saw he had a collar tattoo with spikes on it on his wrist . It was kinda silly but kinda cute too , although you wondered what it meant.

A minute later your alarm went off and you whimpered letting Kyo know you were awake. He let go of your head to slam your alarm clock off. He looked upset or angry in the face, and he was still staring at his phone.

Slowly you got up and gently placed Mocha on your pillow so you could scoot closer to him. “Kyo? Did you get any sleep?”

“I have to show you something.” He said as he turned his phone to you pressing Play again.

You were holding the phone now, it was alot heavier than yours . You had watched the video a couple times and everytime Kyo punched Bokuto you flinched. After the second time you placed the phone down to sit facing him.

“Kyo..”

He looked the other way running his hand through his hair.

“Kyo?”

He wanted to run away so bad. Start over again. Someplace without people like -

“Kyo.”

You were between his legs now , he had his knees up and was resting his elbows on them and still did not look at you. Dammit Mad Dog just say something to her, she's right there, dont shut her out.. dont shut..

You grabbed his face turning his head, kissing him, catching him very off guard. Kyo fell back taking you with him . You had no intention of stopping and just kissed him more and more even though he cursed between breaths. Kyo grabbed you lifting you up off his face and chest. You frowned at him and sat down on his lap once he let you go, cheeks flushed and very embarrassed.

“S..swee..sweetie”

“You aren't like that anymore!” You told him while you rubbed your eyes.

“Sweetie no don't cry please..” he sat up taking you in his arms rubbing your back in circles. “Sshh..”

“Please.. talk to me..” You sniffled into his neck squeezing him tight.

Kyo was shaking .. you were shaking . He laid his head on your neck starting from the beginning.. the very beginning. Every few minutes he would stop to check if you were still crying. He would cup your face and wipe under your eyes and ask ‘Are you Afraid of Me’ and you shook your head saying ‘No’ every single time. You were both tearing up by the end of it, Kyotani told you about Yahaba, Highschool after Iwa & Kawa graduated , how he became a Pro and Bokuto. The look on his face just made you so sad and seeing you sad was something he never wanted to see.

“Sweetie.. how , how can.”

“I like you Kyo, a lot. I'm not scared, never will be.”

“I'm so scared ill lash out at you sweetie.”

You grabbed his hand holding it and running a hand up and down his sleeve while you talked. “Kyo.. you let me touch your wolves. When we first met in your shop i noticed you were rubbing it a lot , like you were worried or you thought id just out right touch it”

“I..”

You kissed him again and wiped your eyes free of stray tears. “I want to be with you Kyo, i wanna.. see red pandas with you”

He laughed at that and so did you.

“I already said i'd take you didint i?” He asked cupping your face .

“Just making sure you know i really wanna go heh..”

“I know sweetie, believe me i know.” Kyo kissed you and you blushed wrapping your arms around him.

The alarm went off again too.

••

@zoppzoop @mocha-babes @haikyuu-but-low-iq @milkbreadcat @kozushiki

••

#PinkChains #kyotani x reader #kyotani kentaro #kentarou x reader #kyotani 💕

146 notes · View notes

yeojaa · 3 years

Note

IDK IF UR STILL TAKING REQUESTS🥺🥺🥺 sorry if IM botherinh😭😭 BUT MYBE A FINDERS KEEP HERS drabble where jk n oc get in to an argument after chap 3 n jk apologizes or something like that😭😭🥺😭🥺🥺

[ read part one / main story ]

pairing. jjk x f!reader. rating. general. tags. this is soft angst. JK being his usual idiot self, reader being... well, sad, and yeah. just pain (but w a resolution. ish). wc. 1.5k. beta reader. @hobi-gif beta’d a bit of this but i wrote most of it after so any dumb mistakes are my fault and my fault alone. 🤡 author note. this isn’t 100% what you requested but... the first part kind of is, and then this is the resolution (because people requested it). if you’d like another drabble, please feel free to request!

In true fashion, Jungkook tries to fix the problem in the only way he knows how: with money.

He puts the two of you up at the Four Seasons for the entire week, orders room service at all hours of the day and has treats from all of your favourite spots in the city delivered. (Macarons, candied nuts, that one bakery that does those salted honey pies you inhale like a wild animal.) He runs baths for you, fills the tub with your favourite scents (always Diptyque) and massages his tattooed hands all over your scalp. He makes sure you wake up to the smell of French toast and fall asleep on a bed of roses, curled up in his arms and little else.

He spoils you until you can hardly see the floor, designer shopping bags strewn throughout the suite. (His sisters help him decide what to buy, mouths sealed shut otherwise. They know better than to get too involved in his relationship with you.) Dinner is somewhere new every night but always at a Michelin-starred restaurant, space booked out to the extent it’s just the two of you and a bouquet of your favourite flowers.

Of course, he thinks things are better. Assumes they must be, because there’s never been a time where money hasn’t solved his problems. No matter how much, throw enough of it at something and the problem will go away.

But you don’t go away. Neither does your sadness.

“Baby.” It’s your last night together before you’re back to some semblance of normalcy (not that Jungkook’s life was very normal to begin with). He thinks he’ll miss it more than you will, if your lacklustre reactions have been any indication.

You’re fresh out of the shower - you’d turned down his offer of a bath, locked the door on your way into the washroom - and wrapped in a fuzzy white robe. “What?” You’re focused on running a comb through your hair, unbothered by your boyfriend who sits at the edge of the bed, legs wide and hands extended toward you.

It bothers him a bit (read: a lot). You’re better than you were, offering tiny smiles when he begs for them, accepting his kisses without complaint. It isn’t you though. Not the snark and the sass and the decades of friendship that normally thread your relationship. A book with its spine about to snap, held together by cobweb.

Despite the time you’ve spent together the last few days - almost every hour, sans when you were at work - you’ve been distant still. Not mean, of course (no, never mean, because you’ve always been soft on him) but different. Softer and harder all at once.

“Come here,” he coaxes, fingers curling around your wrist, pulling you between his knees effortlessly.

Normally, you’d curl around his shoulders, rake your nails through his hair. This time, you only allow yourself to be with him, palms flat upon the ridges of muscle plating his back. You don’t pass affection into his hair, don’t form a cradle for him to rest his head. (It doesn’t feel like home - not like it should.)

Jungkook hates it. Absolutely fucking abhors it. He wants his girlfriend - his best friend, his love - back. Not this spectre that’s taken up your space.

(He almost forgets that he’s the reason you’re the way you are.)

“What’s wrong?” The shape of his mouth curls, bottom lip pouting into that trademark expression that usually has you relenting, melting into a puddle of goo in his arms.

This time, you shrug, movement dislodging the soft soft terry cloth from your shoulders. “Nothing.” Dumb as he might be - oblivious in the way only someone like he can be - he can tell you’re lying. Offering the untruth right between your teeth, expecting him to accept it.

That bothers him even more. It’s one thing to put up an act, entertain him as if you were a court jester. It’s entirely another to treat him as if he’s a child, feeding him lies without a care.

(Notwithstanding the fact that Jeon Jungkook is, for all intents and purposes, a manchild.)

“You’re a shit liar,” he retorts, grumpy, coloured green and blue until his insides feel like mud. It’s strange, the discomfort that sinks beneath his skin and sticks his bones together. Like wading through quicksand or a bog, stuck to a place he doesn’t want to be. “Talk to me.”

“About what?” You’re deflecting, refusing to meet his stare, holding yourself within the confines of your robe as if you can’t bear to open up to him.

That hurts more than he expects. Slips sadness in alongside the frustration.

“About what’s bothering you.” The fact he has to do this is driving him mad. It’s akin to pulling teeth and he hates the dentist.

You scoff then - which he doesn’t expect. The sound kicks him right in the stomach, a sucker punch he doesn’t see coming. “You want me to talk about you?” It’s an uncharacteristically mean answer, brought on by whatever’s been bothering you, turning blood to battery acid.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

For the briefest moment, he considers lashing out in response - giving back exactly what he’s getting. But then he spies it, just there, past the usual warmth of your stare. It’s hiding behind crystallised amber, peeking past the edges. So much sadness it steals his breath right from his lungs, stripping him bare of red hot fury and leaving him lily white and lovesick.

When Jungkook speaks again, it’s feather soft, terribly light, begging and pleading in a single utterance. “Please.”

There’s silence for a beat, then another. It stings for each second it continues, treading misery all over the thing that beats in his chest. He’s not used to this. (You’re his first and only love. A part of him is grateful for that; another hates even this.)

He almost asks again - readies it on the tip of his tongue.

Then you’re unloading, giving him everything he’d asked for and more.

“I love you,” you tell him in a reedy voice, uneven like the foundation you’ve built together. Haphazardly thrown into place and hoped for the best on. “But you’re an idiot.”

(He deserves that, he supposes.)

Your voice is static, stretched thin and gossamer thin. Cheek pressed to his curls, you find comfort in your hiding place, as if shielded by the dark. “I’ve loved you for years and that’ll never stop. But when you do stupid shit, it’s so hard.” Your words are honeyed, thick and heavy as they lay into each strand, seep quietly into his ears. Where they’d normally fill him with ecstasy, delight, send him on a sugar high - these ache, sink right to the pit of his stomach. “I would give you anything. Anything.”

“I know.” Really, he does. He’s known that since you were kids. It’s why he’d fallen in love with you, even before he’d realised he had.

“Then why do you test me?”

It’s not rhetorical. You want an answer - something real you can hold between your hands. Something to act as the salve for all the hurt, to bandage the wounds left behind by your uncertainty. (He’s the same as you - needs to know he means as much to you as you do him. But you show it in different ways and that’s what’s brought the two of you to this point.)

“I’m sorry,” he answers, sliding his arms more securely around your waist, face buried into the soft fabric of the robe, into the warmth that lies beneath, into the heart that beats a rhythm identical to his.

“I don’t want sorry.” After all, you’d already gotten one. Weeks ago, when he’d pulled the stupid sophomoric stunt, he’d apologised. Had been apologising every day since then, but in all the wrong ways. “I want better.”

It’s as if all of his bones have been cracked open, the weight of your words settling like sand, discomfort and grit snapping his head to attention. “You want better?” There’s nothing but alarm in Jungkook’s expression, eyes wide, throat knotted in worry. “I—”

As always, you read him like an open book. Hands smooth down the sides of his cheeks, palms searing over his reddened cheeks. “Not like that.” You’re reassuring him even as it should be the other way around. (How ironic.)

He exhales a deep breath. Doesn’t tear his stare from yours.

“I just need you to be better.” You’d never ask this of him if it weren’t important, if you didn’t feel his ignorance and immaturity splintering your insides into glass shards. You’ve always accepted him exactly as he was, all the good and bad and ridiculous.

This is different though. You love him. You’re taking a chance with him just as he is with you. Laying your heart in his hands and trusting him to keep it safe, handing out the key in the hopes of building a home.

So you ask - for both your sakes.

He promises he will be and you believe him. Have to.

For both of your sakes.

#anon.eml #incoming.eml #work.zip #drabble.zip #finders.doc #bts au #bts imagine #bts drabble #bts angst #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook drabble #jungkook angst #jungkook imagine #jungkook.doc #bts

106 notes · View notes

kweebtrash · 4 years

Text

Pay Attention, Dumbass

Pairing: Demon!Jaehyun x OC

Genre: Smut/ Comedy?? Maybe?

Features: demonic fingering

Summary: two idiot roommates accidentally summon two ancient demons. Forced into a contract, they only had two choices; die or make a deal with the devil. The most logical answer was to make them their boyfriends of course (this is lowkey a bad slice of life hentai, i swear). The demons know nothing about the human world and have to deal with “lessons” from their human girlfriends.

A/N: This used to be on my Kofi which im closing down and just putting everything up on here. This isnt continuing.

Masterlist Johnny Version Here

-----

"You haven't moved in hours. Don't you do anything else?"

I dug into the chip bag that laid on my desk and grabbed a handful to shove into my mouth. "Of course i do," I said through the mush of chips. "I went to the bathroom."

Jae sighed. "Not what i meant. Do you ever leave your room?"

I shrugged and downed some of my soda. "Yeah. I go to work sometimes."

"Where do you even work at?"

"A bar." I went back to clicking through attacks and swerving around opponents. "Guys, come on, come on, come on!" I said into the headphone and mic set i had on. "Someone head towards the point! At least start trying to take it over!"

"A bar?" He asked, confused. "What is that?"

"Its uh..." I drifted off as i propelled myself forward and released my ultimate attack, sending my mecha exploding in different directions. I quickly reloaded myself into the machine and continued my rampage of gunshots. "Like uh... drinks. Liquor."

"Libations?"

I snorted at the stupid word. "Yeah, whatever. That."

"And that's the only time you leave?" He continued asking.

"What the fuck is this? Twenty questions?" I grabbed another handful of chips. "On the left! Move out the way!" I grumbled at my friends who were playing online with me.

"I'm just curious since you don't have the capability to rid yourself of the sin of sloth."

I glared over at him as he was reclined back on my bed, arms behind his head, and torso on full display as he refused to wear a shirt (not that i was complaining). "I do things! I just like playing video games more! Sometimes i go to school too!"

"And what proof do you have of this because i never see it."

"My never ending debt and crippling anxiety." One of my online friends asked who i was talking too and i sucked my teeth. "My boyfriend is being annoying." Queue the kissy noises and jokes of the very mature men i gamed with.

"Oh? Im annoying?" Jae grumbled. "Whats really annoying is seeing you rot away while im forced to stay by your side. Hours and hours of boredom and still im trapped in the confines of this ridiculous home with nothing to do."

I set my headset down as the round finished and turned my desk chair towards him. "Are you upset that im not paying attention to you?"

He sat up quickly and scoffed. "Please. What do i need the attention of a human for?"

"You certainly want it when you're horny." I giggled. "Heh...horny...you have horns also so it's...anyway. Are you being a baby because you want attention?"

"I am not an infant. You are infuriating. Of course i had to get stuck with you."

"Oohhh, thats how it is. Yep, definitely being a baby, now with a temper tantrum."

Jae's eyes glowered and his claws dug into my mattress. "There are so many things i want to do to you right now."

"Ooh daddy." I snorted and put my headset back on. "Sounds kinky."

"Which is it? Am i an infant or a father?! I dont understand!"

I sighed and stood up. "Do you want to try playing with me?" I gestured at the now vacant spot of my gaming chair.

Jae stared at me then the seat. "Play that ridiculous thing?"

"Yeah," i shrugged and looked down at my feet. "It's something i like to do and you're my boyfriend sooo...i guess...i mean..." I twiddled with my thumbs as my cheeks began to warm up. "It'd be cool if you tried to like some of the stuff i do."

"Is that what boyfriends do?"

"Y-yeah...sorta. Look do you want to or not?" I huffed in frustration.

He stood up and made his way over, glaring down at me with his humanized yet still terrifying eyes. "Fine. I will try it."

I couldn't help the dorky smile that beamed across my face. "Ok, cool. Sit down."

He placed himself in the seat and i sat on his lap then scooted the chair closer to the desk. I positioned his fingers on the designated keys for offense and defense as well as the computer mouse. "Here, why don't i just guide your fingers the first few rounds so you get the hang of it?"

"Whatever."

The smile started to fade as i covered his hands with mine that seemed to dwarf in comparison. "Put your stupid claws away. You cant game right with your pretty manicure."

He growled like an irritated dog and slid the claws back into his skin. With his back pressed to mine, he ended up resting his chin on my shoulder, watching as i joined a new round. His somewhat chubby cheek felt warm against mine and i willed myself not to kiss it. It wasn't like he was going to respond anyway. He was cold hearted in every sense of the word, even when he fucked it almost seemed like a chore. It still was amazing and i loved every second of it but the distant feelings was strong. Of course it wasn't a great idea to make a demon your damn boyfriend but there was rarely a time where i made a smart decision.

Deciding to suck it up and just concentrate i pressed Jae's fingers down as i helped launch attacks and maneuver us around the screen. "This is nothing but hectic destruction " he commented.

"Yep, pretty much."

"And you enjoy this?"

"Absolutely."

"I am pleased by this." I felt a slight nip at my neck as he purred into my ear. "Very pleased."

"Pleased that i like shooting people and destroying things?"

"Exactly. Its quite...sexy."

"Oh my god. You're a dork!" I snorted. "Its just a damn game, weirdo." I pressed his fingers down harder, not wanting to slow down and ruin my winning streak. "Keep up."

"Well when you're crushing my fingers its hard to do so."

"Just follow me. You dont even have to move them."

"I would like to move them but-"

"Shh, give me a sec. Bastards are on my fucking ass! God i hate when they just gang up on you for no FUCKING REASON!" I screamed at the monitor. "Such dicks. Fuckin' dicks."

"Your mouth is filthy."

"Yeah you said that when it was full of cum too."

"Hm...that was also enjoyable." Another nip to my neck, this time followed by small sucks and kisses. "Continue using your filthy mouth and destroying things. This at least is semi entertaining now."

"Glad you think so. Quit kissing my neck, its distracting."

"Distracting?! You enjoy that! You said it this morning. Specifically 'Jae'," He faked a slightly high pitched moan. "'Keep kissing my neck, oh god'."

I flushed with embarrassment and rammed my elbow into his chest. "I already have to deal with dicks online i dont need go deal with you too."

"I suppose you wouldn't want to deal with this then?"

I felt him press his hips against my ass. The grey sweatpants he had on left nothing to the imagination and i swallowed hard as my concentration wavered. "S-stop." I whimpered.

"I dont think i will." One hand left the mouse and pressed against my stomach to keep me in place. "Support that. I will control these buttons."

I pressed my lips together and simply nodded. How he had the grace to continue slight grinds against me i didn't know but i was responding to them eagerly. I arched my back and wiggled my ass every time he rolled forward, creating a sinful friction between us. My eyes drifted from the screen momentarily to see that his fingers were working perfectly over the keys as if he had played for years. "You're...actually winning."

"What? As if its hard?" He tsked. "Humans have simple minds and-WHY IS THIS MAN PUNCHING ME FROM THE SKY?"

I froze our sensual movements to cackle loudly. "That's just Doomfist. He's so OP and stupid."

"OP?"

"Overpowered, meaning there's no reason for him to even be here."

"Im going to destroy him completely until he can never return."

"They all respawn, Jae. That's how the game continues."

"Not if I can help it. I want that mongrel dead. Get that clicky thing ready. I'm aiming to destroy."

"You think I'm sexy when I want to kill things but I think you're cute, you know that?" I turned towards him to press a kiss to his cheek yet my lips connected with his when he moved.

"I am not cute....but you are...or whatever." I wondered if that tint on his cheeks was real or just my imagination.

I smiled to myself anyway, pleased with his compliment and his valiant effort to enjoy the same things I did. He was truly acting like a boyfriend-one that felt genuine even if he crawled up from hell. Just before, he was complaining about how never moved but we stayed like this for a couple more hours, even sharing snacks and competing with my online friends. There came a point in the night, though, when searching for a server with an open game slowed tremendously. Minutes ticked by and still nothing. Jae's drumming of his fingers against the wooden desk in impatience was starting to drive me crazy. "Doing that isn't going to make it go faster, you know."

"This is about as interesting as watching you play on that small screen."

"We've gone over this. Its a phone, a cell phone, a portable phone."

"Yes, yes. That stupid thing with all the colors. Its like this stupid thing." He pointed at the computer screen. "Only smaller."

"You seem to enjoy the big stupid thing judging by how many kill streaks you got."

His lips tweaked into a smirk. "That's because im an expert killer. None of them deserved to live."

"You did get my rank up and some loot boxes so i guess i should thank you."

"Yes, bask in my glory and show me how grateful you are." His hand that had remained around my waist for most of our play time started creeping its way to my thighs.

"Are you wanting me to show you how grateful i am or are you trying to show me how desperate you are?" I snickered.

"I am not desperate. Since the stupid game is not cooperating im just trying to inject some extra curricular activities."

"Such as?"

He set his head on my shoulder again and i felt his fangs dig in deeper into my neck, making me let out a drawn out whine. "J-jae!"

He chuckled from deep within his throat as i felt his tongue trail from the column of my neck up to my earlobe. "Such as...watching you squirm when i add the slightest of pressure," Two of his fingers slid between the junction of my thighs and pressed firmly against the center of my shorts. "Here."

The tips of his fingers began gliding against the fabric, the soft cotton adding the smallest amount of friction against my clit. My teeth sunk into my bottom lip as my leg began to bounce. I wanted to wait for a new game, my win streak was too precious to me but Jae was something else. Trying not to make it too obvious i adjusted myself on his lap, spreading my legs a little wider. His fingers garnered more room but he didnt move them under the fabric. Instead he kept torturing me with slow movements, occasionally pushing into the most sensitive areas. "Who's enjoying the attention now?" He teased.

Suddenly a little ping from my computer signaled that a game had finally been found. My attention quickly shifted and i put my headset back on and got into position. Jae reeled back in confusion. "Are you really going to continue to play?"

"Well...yeah. I mean it took forever to get into this game. I dont wanna lose it."

"Hey, can you be healer?" I heard my friend say into my ear piece.

"Fuck you! Im not going to be healer! You be healer, you twat waffle!"

Jae let out a heavy and annoyed sigh. I almost felt bad until i was lagging behind everyone else. I had to-

I felt his finger finally move beneath my shorts and press into my hole gently. I had to admit that he had already gotten me worked up enough to provide him with some lubrication and he slid in easily. "C-cut it out." I stammered.

"Oh no, dont mind me. Your game is more important. Keep going."

"I just mean-ah-ahh!" I tried to snap my mouth shut before my moan slipped out for fear of my friends hearing but it was too late. Jae had moved the seat of my shorts aside and pumped his finger faster, occasionally curling it an inch or two from my entrance. I covered the mic part of the headset and glared back at him. "If you dont s-stop-"

I snapped my thighs shut as he added another finger, the 'come here' motions growing stronger. Immediately, he landed a harsh tap to my outer thigh, a small growl floating in the tense air around us. "I said keep going."

"Well i would if you just-HEY! MOTHERFUCKER! I LIKED THESE SHORTS!" I looked down at the center of my shorts that had now been torn open because of his reappearing claws. "What's wrong with you?!"

Without a word he grabbed onto my ankles and set my legs up on the desk, keeping them spread. The clawed hand snaked its way to my throat and with the slightest pressure i could feel them digging in. It wasn't enough to hurt but certainly enough to make my entire body shudder with electricity. "I-i cant reach the keyboard." I whispered.

He scooted the chair closer to the desk, making my legs almost rest on it fully. "Wheres that tappy thing you have?"

"Tappy thing?"

"Where you move the sticks."

"You mean a controller?"

"You can plug it in right?" He questioned as his thrusting resumed which made my mind mush in a second.

"U-uh yeah-um its uh...d-draw-drawer!"

He let my throat go and allowed me to reach into my desk drawer and grab my gaming controller. I plugged it into my computer's usb port as my friends argued about me not pulling my weight and being static. I lied about my game lagging and shifted the mic up so i sounded muffled and they wouldn't be able to hear how much if a slut Jae made me. "There. Now you can play. Keep up that win streak. Have to get the gold and boxes, right? Have to play with your friends and ignore me, right?" He nipped at my ear as his fingers slipped out of me to rub circles against my clit. "Have to beg me to let you cum, right?

"P-please dont make me do that!"

"See? You're begging already. What a good girl you are."

My entire body tensed at those two words and i let my controller go for a moment to grab his hand and press his fingers back into me. "Keep going. I want you to keep going."

"I could but i dont have to. Maybe i can use the tappy thingy instead. More people I can kill." He jerked his fingers away and pushed them against my lips. "Clean these off for me. Dont want to get it dirty, do i?"

"Jaaaeeeee," i whined and leaned in for a kiss but he turned his head away.

"Clean. Them."

Reluctantly, i swallowed his fingers down, lapping between and tasting myself. He tested my gag reflex by moving them to the back of my throat but pulling away when it became to much. It was nothing but entertainment for him, a game of cat and mouse that made me feel doomed. "You know you love being inside me." I panted as my mouth was now freed. "I can ride-"

"Oh, how unfortunate. You died. Now we have to wait to return. You're too distracted, Ivy. A shame, truly."

I didn't care anymore. In the few seconds i had between my respawning i stood up and turned towards him, pulling his sweatpants down to stay around his knees. He had no qualms about his erection. I had felt it, of course, but it was like he paid it no mind, like it wasn't an inconvenience and he enjoyed teasing me instead. Was it another way to give me a taste of my own medicine? What a bastard! "Come here." I tried to sound as sultry as possible but he just laughed and took the controller from me.

"Lets see if i can figure this out now." Jae looked at the buttons and pressed at a few before moving the joy sticks to test them out. "Strange but i believe I can-"

It was my turn to cut him off. I lifted his head and focused on his eyes, angered by the smirk still on his lips. "Fuck me."

"Nope."

That wasn't the answer i wanted.

He craned his head to the side to look at the monitor. "Can you move? Im trying to play here."

"Shut up! You didn't even care about playing before!" I pouted as my cheeks flushed both in annoyance and embarrassment. I sat back on his lap anyway, chest to chest, and guided him inside me. Not a sound from him or even a look. He was focused on fighting now which made me want to punch him but i figured if i fucked myself on him long enough i could break his resolve. I gripped onto the back of the chair and started working up and down his length, adding kisses to his neck in between whimpers. "Jae...come on..."

"Ooh, double kill."

"I swear to god! If you dont-"

"No god, just demons."

"Yeah, you're acting like a demon. A demon asshole who wont even pay attention to his girlfriend! I cant believe you're doing this!"

He finally looked at me, dead in the eyes and it made me nervous. "It doesn't feel good, does it?"

Ok, ok. So i had learned my lesson. It was a two way street and maayybeee i wasn't being the best partner but i never figured he wanted anything from me. He never expressed a lot if affection or wonderment at what i did throughout my day. How was i supposed to know? I guess with his lack of knowledge about human things he truly had nothing to do unless i was guiding him. Fuck, now i really felt bad. What a buzzkill. "Im sorry...i understand how you feel now. I didn't think you cared. I know were just together because of the contract. I thought you still hated humans and didn't want to exist beside them."

"I do hate humans but you're my human now. Unfortunately, i have to rely on you and its maddening to be stuck here. In hell i did hundreds of things. I had a job. I had meetings with other demons. I planned wars, participated in real battles, created weapons. I was someone. Here, im nothing but a prisoner."

"Nonono! Please dont feel like that...i dont want to make you feel like that. Please..." I felt my eyes watering and i quickly buried my face in the crook of his neck. He sighed and tossed the controller on the table and shut my laptop. He kicked off the rest of his pants and with ease picked me up and led me to the bed.

"Dont ever speak of this. Not to Johnny, not to Xan. No one, understand?"

I nodded quickly as my back hit the mattress and he stayed above me. "You will do what i say just as much as im forced to do as you say. Love me unconditionally. Break me free from this world and show me why i shouldn't kill everyone in it."

I swallowed hard and nodded again. "I promise. I promise you everything."

"Good. Secondly...i would like to do battle against you in those games."

I couldn't help the giggle i let out. I didn't expect him to say something like that after being so serious. "Oh? You think you can beat me?"

"Im a strategist and a warrior. Of course i can."

"Oh, ok. You play a few rounds of Overwatch and suddenly you're the master. Just dont say anything when i kick your ass, bitch."

He chuckled deeply and snapped his hips without warning. He had still remained inside me and the sudden movement made me cry out loud. "Bring it on then. We'll see who's the better warrior here. Now," his eyes shifted into pure darkness and his fangs glistened with temptation. "Lets see how fast you can give in."

175 notes · View notes

crybabybomin · 4 years

Text

My brothers friend - Hamada Asahi

Pairing: reader x Asahi / reader x Brother!yedam

Warnings: None

Word count: 2.229

Masterlist

okay so im writing this on the 20th of july and 28 minutes ago the debut teaser was officially released so im a mess rn. Im so happy to see them finally debuting. I’ve been following them all since the first ep of ygtb.

——

You're Bang Yedam’s older sister, Bang Y/N. You love singing too but art is your passion. Your brother is very supportive of your work. So are you for him. You two are very close in age. You are only 11 months older than him. So sometimes it feels like he’s your twin.

You’ve seen him perform multiple times. You were interviewed for the YGTB finale. You love seeing him perform, because he looks so happy on stage. You also met some of his members. You met Jungkyu and Jeongwoo when they were preparing for their Last Dance stage. But other than that you haven’t actually talked to the other trainees.

But today you are meeting your brother in his dorm. Your mom also gave some presents to give to all the boys. So here you are standing in front of his dorm with a huge bag full of presents. You already texted Yedam you were almost there so when you knocked on the door he immediately opened the door.

“Y/N!!!” He said happily and took you inside. You walked into the living room and a lot of boys sat there watching tv. They all looked at you and then yedam said “Guys this is my sister Y/N.” They all said hi and then you remembered the presents “Okay so mom packed some presents for you so I needed to give these to you.” They all stood up and you gave them their present.

“hey Asahi and Mashiho are still in their room. Someone tell them to come.” Yedam says. Then Jungkyu calls one of them. After a couple of minutes two boys come in. They are kind of shocked to see you. Well one doesn’t really react but stops walking in and the other just looks confused.

You smile at them and hand them their present. “Hi I’m Y/N also known as Yedam’s sister.” They introduce themselves and you think Asahi is kind of cute, but you push it to the back of your mind. Then you all started watching tv and you sat in front of the couch against yedam’s legs.

Then you started getting hungry. You stood up and said “Should we order food because im starving.” They all nodded and you said “I’m paying so choose whatever you like.” All of them were impressed. “what do you do for work Y/N.” Jaehyuk asked you. “I sell art and design stuff for people.” They all wanted to see what you make so you showed them some pictures. Then they decide on what to eat so you order for delivery.

You all started talking after so you could get to know them. You liked all of them but you actually really got stuff in common with Asahi. He likes art too and is more quiet than others but hes actually really nice. You feel a spark in your chest and you keep staring at his face.

The doorbell rings and you and Asahi both stand up. You look at each other and decide both to go to the door. It was actually really handy since there was quite a lot of food for all of you. You walk back into the living room and sat down to eat. You weren’t that hungry but it seemed like the others were. You laughed at them. “Y’all need to see yourself eat, you eat like beasts.”you said and they smiled at you but continued to eat. You laughed again. When its all done you offer to clean and they played a game to decide who needs to help you. Funny enough its Yedam.

When you are cleaning you talk a bit. “I do have to leave in 30 minutes Yedam, I have something I have to do in Seoul but it’s still a secret so I can’t tell you what.” And he looks at you suspiciously but lets it go. “I wish you could’ve stayed longer. We don’t see and talk to each other a lot.” He says “hey I call you all the time, you just don’t pick up the phone.” And you nudge him in his side. “yeah im sorry about that.” You tell him its okay and after you are done you grab your stuff and put on your jacket.

“hey guys it was nice to meet you all and maybe I will see you all soon again.” You say to them. “you're leaving already?” Asahi asks you. “yeah I have some stuff I need to do in the city so I need to be on time.” You answer him and wave them all goodbye. You give yedam a hug and you leave.

The thing you have to do is actually signing up for the scholarship you got. Its an art school and after that you are meeting your 3 new roommates and they are going to tell you when you can move in. This is the secret you have for Yedam because you are gonna live way closer too him, because your dorm is in the same building as his.

Your roommates told you that you could move in next week and so that’s why after the meeting you went straight home and started to pack everything. You had quite a lot of stuff but the room you were moving into was also kind of big.

———

Today was your moving in day. You have talked to your roommates a lot the past week and you 4 went a long really well. They also don’t like kpop so they don’t know your brother which is for the better. You did tell them about your tiny crush on Asahi so they wanted to know who he was. After you are done moving in you decided to go to your brothers dorm. You texted him and he told you he was training but you could go anyways since some of the members were there but he didn’t know who in particular. So you rang their doorbell and Yoshi opened the door.

“hey y/n, how are you? Btw yedam isn’t home.” He says “oh I know but he said I could come over anyways.” “Yeah of course come in. Only Hyunsuk, Asahi, Jeongwoo and me are home, but hyunsuk, Jeongwoo and me are about to leave for food. Wanna come?” He asks you and you think about it but you aren’t really hungry so you decline. “That’s okay, im going to tell Asahi you are here or you could say hi yourself.” He says “i’ll do it myself. Have fun together. See you all later.” They leave together and you knock on Asahi’s door.

“Come in.” You hear him say and you walk in. “hey its me. What are you doing.” You saw him hunched over a drawing. “just drawing something but it’s not good.” He says and you look at him “its okay we all started somewhere, and my drawing are definitely not always great.” He shows you his drawing and he says “i can’t seem to get the proportions right and I don’t know how to change them.” You kneel down besides him and take his pencil in your hand. “is it okay if I make some changes.” You ask him and he nods. “You just need to make the shoulders a little bit smaller and the chest a little longer. Like this.” And you show him. He looks very shocked by what you just did and you laugh at him.

You help him a little with the colouring but after that you just sit down on the chair beside his desk and look at him draw. Hes really handsome and he looks so cute, concentrating on his drawing. You only realize that you are staring when he looks at you. You immediately look down to his drawing and he smiles at you but you didn’t see that.

He gives you a paper and says “you look kind of bored so here, draw something yourself.” You smile at him because you love drawing and you decide to draw him. You sketch really fast and after a 30 minutes it already kind of looks like him. You two are drawing in silence for a long time and after an hour you are done with your drawing. “hey Asahi I drew you, look.” He looks at the drawing and blushes “why did you drew me?” He says and you kind of got embarrassed by his question “i don’t know really, you just looked really peaceful when you were drawing.” “well thanks anyway, it looks very pretty.”

“hey wanna know something cool?” You say and he nods. “I actually moved into an apartment in this building today.” And he looks at you “wait really.” And you nod. “You wanna see it?” You ask him and he says “yeah not like we have anything better to do.” You laugh and grab his hand. And run to your dorm. Its only two floors down so you just run on your socks. You grab your keys and open the door. Your roommates are in the living room and the look at you and Asahi. And then they look at your hands, so then you realize you are still holding his hand. You try to remove your hand but he doesn’t release his hand.

“so y/n is this the boy you’ve been talking about, Asahi right?” He releases your hand and looks at you. But he nods at your friends. You glare at your friend and they laugh at you. You decide to show Asahi around and show him your room. You had a mural behind your bed and a lot of art everywhere. “damn this looks so cool.” He says “thanks I tried really hard on it.” After you show your room you decide to go back to their dorm and when you arrive Yedam is back.

“hey y/n, where were you? Wait you were with Asahi …. Outside …….. on your socks?” You and Asahi both laugh and then you remember he doesn’t know about your new house. “Omg yedam I can finally tell the secret I was talking about. I actually moved into this building.” “wait really omg that’s so cool now we can see each other more often.” He says and he hugs you. Then he looks between you and Asahi and moves his eyebrows. You blush but Asahi motions a silence sign at him.

You spend the evening at the dorm and then decide to go back to your apartment. You were actually put into a groups chat with yedam and all of his members. Which is really funny since they roast each other all the time and send ugly pictures. You decide to put your phone away but then you get a text in the group chat.

Mashiho: come get Asahi he keeps talking y/n about you and its getting annoying

Asahi: Are you this stupid jeez?

Y/n: Wait what…

Mashiho: oh shit I really am stupid huh

Then you receive a face time call from Asahi. “hey y/n I have to say something abut I can’t come to your dorm right now.” “its okay but what do you wanna say.” You kinda have an idea but you also think he just wants to say that he sees you only as a friend. “wait I actually wanted to ask if you wanted to come to the rooftop like right now” “uh yeah sure” you were actually just wearing a shirt and some joggers. You put on some shoes and walk to the rooftop. He was already waiting for you. So you stood beside him.

“hey what did you wanted to say.” You ask him and he looks nervously at you. “So okay I just wanted to say that I like you, like I like like you, as in more than friends. Like a boyfriend and girlfriend way. And I know that we don’t know each other for that long but the moment I met you, you brightened up my world. And I might I have ruined our friend ship with this but I just wanted to say this and we could just stay friends if you want.” You were surprised because he never said so much at one time. He just sighs and then you realize you havent said anything. “wait Asahi I like you too I was just surprised by your sudden confession. I’ve liked you since the first time we talked.”

He looks at you and then he smiles. “Wait for real?” He asks and you nod. “so you wanna be my girlfriend…..?” And you nod again. Then he hugs you. When he lets go of you you shiver. He takes off his hoodie and gives it to you. “Here, you can always think about me when you are wearing it.” He says and you look at him “as if I don’t think about you enough.” And he laughs and hugs you. “now that I don’t have a hoodie on you need to keep me warm with your hugs” He says and you smile. “well I hope I can keep that promise, cutie.” You say and he buries his head in the crook of you neck and the night end with you two watching the stars.

99 notes · View notes

dessarious · 4 years

Text

Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt62

Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

“So your plan is to gather information while attacking? That seems rather desperate.” Damian wasn’t actually trying to be insulting, but he saw Chloe bristling at his words. Marinette just gave a tired sigh.

“We are desperate in a way. We can’t wait for Gabriel to make another move and hope we can counter it. Taking the fight to him is the best option especially since we can gather information this way. I haven’t used Viperion in a fight, or any other holders for that matter, in over six months so it’s unlikely he’ll be expecting it.” Damian just gave a non committal hum. It was brash and foolish, but she knew the magic far better than he did and she was right about not waiting. Before he could answer, they all froze at the sound of keys in the door.

Damian motioned the others into the bedroom. They went, though Marinette was obviously reluctant to leave him alone. He rolled his eyes at her in response. If it was Gabriel chances were slim to none he’d be using keys. Any other threats he was perfectly capable of handling. He turned off the lights and waited for the door to open. As soon as there was enough light from the hallway to make out the intruder he attacked. The startled yelp as he tackled the person to the ground was familiar and it was tempting to break the arm he was holding behind their back.

“Seriously Damian? When did we revert to you trying to kill me again?” Damian put a little more pressure on the arm.

“Why are you here Drake? And why wasn’t I informed you were coming?” He was so tired of his family steamrolling over him and keeping secrets when he needed to know. There was also the issue of Luka and he absolutely didn’t need his family screwing that up too. “Ladybug hasn’t lifted her ban on Justice League members coming to Paris either which means you’re due for a trip to Siberia.”

“Wait, Bruce didn’t call you? He said he called you.” Drake sounded annoyed and Damian could hear real surprise in his voice. At least he wasn’t the only one left in the dark. “You’re a minor Damian. You can just stay in Paris alone without it raising questions. I was sent to be your guardian and offer on site tech help.”

“I don’t need a babysitter and that doesn’t change the fact that none of this was approved by Ladybug. This is her city and you aren’t welcome in it.” Damian knew he’d almost slipped and said ‘our city’ which made him pause to think about it. Even though he was relegated to the sidelines for the most part he still felt more involved here than he did in Gotham, the question was why?

In the end the answer was simple. His family treated him like a child. They constantly kept him in the dark even when he needed the information, just like sending Drake here with no warning. He and Marinette had their differences but she only kept secrets when absolutely necessary and it was never information that could get him killed. Maybe it was just because they were the same age, but she actually treated him like an equal member of the team rather than a tag a long she didn’t have time to deal with.

“She doesn’t have to know I’m here. We all know you were the one telling her when league members showed up in Paris, so this time you just don’t tell her.” Damian just glared down at the other boy. He hadn’t told them he and Marinette knew each other’s identities so it wasn’t really surprising they thought it would be that easy.

“Oh yes that’s great. Let's give her a reason to kick us both out of Paris. Not to mention her reason for not wanting you here is still in play and very valid. As much as I’d like an excuse to give you the beating you deserve I’m not going to go against Ladybug’s orders to do it. She has enough to deal with and I’m not about to break her trust because you all decided rules don’t apply to you.” Damian was mentally cursing himself as well. He really should have seen this coming.

“You really do have a crush on this girl don’t you?” Drake sounded amused. Damian ‘slipped’ and elbowed him in the head. As annoying as that assumption was it was better than any of his siblings finding out the truth. The last thing he needed was their idiotic input, especially when he was still figuring everything out himself.

“I have a work relationship with her built on trust and respect which I know must be a hard concept for you to grasp.” He finally let go and got off the other boy to go turn the light back on. He watched with a satisfied smirk and Drake massaged his shoulder. He pulled out his phone to text Marinette, hoping hers was on silent or she and the others had left through the window. He forced himself not to sigh in relief when he didn’t hear anything. The text he got back was short and to the point.

“Can he be trusted?” That was it but he knew the answer was anything but simple. Could he be trusted to help? Yes. Could he be trusted not to report everything to his father? Absolutely not.

“There will be conditions if you stay. If you don’t agree to them, I know of a family that would likely be willing to host me for the rest of my stay so don’t think telling me I need a guardian is going to get you out of them.” Damian felt his temper flare as Drake rolled his eyes and had to take a deep breath. He wasn’t about to let this idiot get him Akumatized.

“Calm down baby bird. What do you want privacy so you can be with your girlfriend?” It was moments like these Damian was sorely tempted to start killing again, just so that his family would take him seriously even if it was as a threat. He glanced down at his phone before speaking.

“First and foremost, no information is to be relayed to anyone without Ladybug’s approval. That means you aren’t allowed to tell anyone what’s going on or what we’re doing. And anyone includes father and the rest.” Tim actually scoffed at him.

“You know I can’t agree to that.” Tim sounded like he was lecturing a toddler and Damian narrowed his eyes at him.

“Then you will be required to leave. By force if necessary.”

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

Ko-Fi

Tag List

@noirdots @valeks-princess @chocolatecatstheron @krispydefendorpolice @bee-wrecker @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @northernbluetongue @paradoxal-occurance @scrumptiouslyelegantchaosqueen @sonif50 @thequestionablyhuman @persephonebutkore @elspethshadow @geekydragonyt @mmwolf1605 @da-tasuky @mjisntme @bluerosette23 @anjuschiffer @littleredrobinhoodlum @tazanna-blythe @resignedcatservant @schrodingers25 @seraphichana @persephonescat @punstoppablechatnoir @magicalfirebird @crazylittlemunchkin @corabeth11 @cyborgcandy @casual-darkness @shamefullove @miraculous-simmer7 @tamoni112 @cat181818meow @littleblue5mcdork @allthebooksandcrannies @enchanted-nerd @disneyfoxuniverse @fallinginthe-void @mandy984 @goggles-mcgee @fontegagrilledcheese @dorkus-minimus @theatreandcomicfreak @zerotosiki @ayuchan07 @mindfulmagics @urbanpineapplefarmer @winter-gardenflower @mooshoon @my-name-is-michell @melicmusicmagic @7-sage-7 @hypnosharkrebeldreamer @alicesangelofmusic @caffeinetheory @nataladriana9 @multplelifes @wanderingreader1019 @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @mvaree @redscarlet95 @storyteller-d @howabouticallyou @ginamarie1512 @kurogaya913 @tbehartoo @maddrag @two-faced-biatch @senyahgirl @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @iloontjeboontje @kakashixobito @welcometopradasa @amirahevens @amlesi @miraculousbelladonna @virgil-is-a-cutie @18-fandoms-unite-08 @cupcakeandkisses @angelofmusickaterinapetrova @book-r-the-best @dur55 @moonlightstar64 @fertileleaf @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @thecaptainthunder @danielslilangel @novicevoice @nyaabinch @interobanginyourmom @welcometopradasa @charlietheepic7 @im-here-for-the-content @maya-custodios-dionach @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @starwindmaden @tired-butterfly @rogueptoridactyl @emeraldpuffguide @suzen23smith @yuulxd @animegirlweeb @alovelyocean @kris-pines04 @semaalcocer-blog @cadencehood @jardimazul @shethecat @silent-storms-posts @simplysslytherin @tog84 @thesunanditsangel @dast218 @tall-and-angry @the-alice-of-hearts @captainmac6 @theyellowfeverexperience @chrismarium @alessialeone6997 @heaven428 @tinyterror333 @smolplantmum @lilyellowink @naoryllis @katiegardneriscoolerthanyou @magewriter @doodledeerest @athena452 @peachedpocky @tired-butterfly @risingmoonyue @lunammoon @mylife-demonstrates-murphys-law @bobothyross @silvergold-swirl @loysydark @heaven428 @peachedpocky @hauntedwintersweets @awesome-starfish-and-tacos @silvergold-swirl @rosesgonerogue @castielsofficialtoothbrush @myazael @aestheticnpoetic @creator-josie @sturchling @snowstar1016 @myblacknightworld @kittycatwowmeow @midnightkaito @chylou34 @hufflejournals @indecisive-mess-named-me @uwuteamleader @sassakitty @jessigurl-design @demigodgirl20031 @freshbark @soup-served-chilling @elmokingkong @unknownvsworld @thatonegaybitchfromschool @tis-i-beanbandit @damianette-is-life @peachesbackup @nobodyw8s4evr

206 notes · View notes

kayr0ss · 4 years

Text

Welcome Home

[LWA, Diakko, domestic, family, baby?, cute happy shit]

Akko and Diana are still settling into this new life, routine, and responsibility. But coming home to this...? It was the best thing that ever happened to them.

—–

Diana clicked at the button of her retractable pen, eyes moving rapidly from left to right and back again. She paused, humming softly to herself while she appraised yet another essay on how ‘the advent of big data and analytics is a turning point in the synthesis of magic and artificial intelligence technology. She scribbled her remarks on the paper’s margin:

‘Revise – provide suggested guidelines and security measures for magic-infused data-driven machinery.’

Now, it may come as a surprise to many, but Diana never really considered herself a traditionalist. In fact, her on-going tenure at Luna Nova’s higher-education learning center is heavily decorated with progressive and future-minded research and perspectives. This idea, however, simply sounded a little too much like… Croix—and she wasn’t going to pretend that kept her at ease. But Diana also believed that very few people fall far beyond redemption, and Prof. Croix’s appointment as the Head of the Magical Engineering Ethics Board was the perfect example of redemption if there ever was one.

‘As we’ve learned historically, aggressive technological progress should be done under the guiding hand of ethics and humanitarian agenda,” she jotted down. She spared a quick glance to the office clock her before diving back down into the paper.

05:17:PM

Still early, she thought to herself, I could probably finish this stack before going home and—

“Quarter-past-five!” she suddenly exclaimed, forgetting that her former working hours of until well-past-eight were no longer applicable. Recent events had turned her entire world… upside-down.

“Grading will have to wait until tomorrow,” she hurriedly—but meticulously, of course—tidied the papers into her drawer; the pile on the left for marked papers, and unmarked papers on the right. Her keys jingled while she put her belongings back into her handbag, and the hurried clacking of her heels signaled the other professors of her early retreat back home.

Diana Cavendish rarely rolled her eyes, but by Jennifer the traffic was horrendous on the north-bound lane. Which she wouldn’t even be on, had she not forgotten the towels she was supposed to buy earlier in-between lectures. Akko reminded her thrice that morning (each time answered with an obedient, “yes, dear.”) Diana was once again reminded that one of the most surprising—and amusing—things she discovered since her marriage to the brunette witch was that between the two of them, Akko was ‘wife-zilla’.

06:13:PM

And there was extra-emphasis on the ‘zilla’ part lately. Traffic be damned, she was going to get those towels.

“Eep!”

The sharp whistling of a boiling kettle startled Akko out of the sports magazine she was so deeply engrossed it. Shit shit shit—she clumsily shut the glossy pages closed, darting towards the kitchen and—kami-sama, why did Diana think it was a good idea to have doors everywhere? “Stupid door,” she groaned, anxious to silence the whistling lest it disturb their special guest.

She lunged towards the stove, snapping the burner knob closed. “I could have done that with magic,” she flicked herself on the forehead, old habits from a magic-less childhood kicking in during the oddest moments. She blinked, scanning the kitchen counter for a small box before realizing that she left it back at the living room. “I’m almost as bad at this as I was at transmutation spells!”

About five minutes later, she was jogging back towards the dining area balancing a warmed tumbler in one hand, and several plastic utensils in another. She narrowly avoided tripping over the carpet (“Fuck!”), and was unfortunate enough to hit her shin across the low coffee-table, warranting an impressive parade of crisp, native-to-Japan curses. Thank Kami-sama it was Friday, she thought with relief. Diana would be taking over evening household duties by Monday and she damn well needed a break; even if a break meant more hours working.

She tipped the warmed tumbler over and let a few drops of its content spatter at the back of her hand.

06:37:PM

It was still too warm but should be just fine by dinner time.

[Capitalism is a predator, but I’m nearly home.]

Diana hit ‘send’, letting her wife know that she was around 2 blocks away while waiting for the last stoplight to turn green.

[As long as u got the towels lol. Tnx, luv u :-*]

Diana smiled at Akko’s reply, turning her attention away from her phone screen when she saw the soft glow shift from red to green. Yes, she had the towels—and maybe a full set of Reuven-Eilhart designer night pajamas. Or three.

She also brought home new ‘friends’—she saw that the store had recently released a set of ‘We There Bears’ themed products. Diana remembered Akko raving about them; they were apparently quite the in-thing as of late. She was immediately drawn to the pure-white polar bear with an interestingly unreadable expression. “That un’s ‘Nice Bear’,” the clerk supplied. “But if y’gonna get ‘im, you gotta get the whole gang else he’d be lonely.”

And so she did—because if Diana ever did anything she never did it half-way done. Frizzly Bear and Fanda sat snugly beside him in the backseat.

The blonde witch pulled up into their driveway, sorting out her belongings before stepping out to unload her shopping bags from the back. She opened the door and couldn’t help but laugh at herself.

“What has become of me,” she smiled, wondering how to bring three bears and several frilly-looking things into their house without painting herself as silly.

06:53:PM

Warm, yellow light flooded through the dining room curtains, and the familiar sound of their car alerted Akko to Diana’s arrival.

“She’s actually home on time,” she remarked to a little fellow seated at the end of their dining table, pulling on an exaggerated expression of being impressed. But Diana’s arrival always makes her smile, so she walks towards the front door so she can giver he wife a hand and—

She paused, taking a strong sniff of something which was coming out of the kitchen.

“Oh, no.”

The pizza! There was pizza burning in the oven! She bolted back towards the kitchen for some damage control, relieved to find that the pizza was only beginning to blacken at the crusts—easily salvageable.

“Mou, Diana’s gonna give me an earful,” she whined in defeat. She could hear the sound of their door unlocking, followed by footsteps through their dining area and the rustle of shopping bags being unloaded.

To her surprise, Diana had no drop of sternness in her voice. “I’ve missed you,” she cooed.

Akko broke into a grin, turning to face Diana. “Missed you to—”

She bit back her words, fascinated at the sight of her wife, looking weary from a long day, cradling their beloved Sara with all the fascination in the world. Their daughter giggled up to her mother, hands reaching for her face, prodding at Diana’s nose (which scrunched up adorably) and pulling at her platinum curls before squealing in delight.

“I may have missed you, as well.” Diana teased, tossing a smile to Akko’s direction.

“That’s hardly fair!” Akko tried to pout, walking towards the two people she loved most in the world.

Diana nuzzled against Sara’s forehead, running her fingers softly over the thin patch of light-brown hair beginning to grow longer. Sara perked up immediately when Akko came into her field of vision.

“I think she likes me better,” Akko whispered before kissing Diana’s shoulder. She wrapped an arm around the pair and tickled at Sara’s nose.

“Not a chance.” Diana leaned her head against Akko’s, watching as Sara grabbed onto Akko’s finger with a chubby little hand.

“Did you buy her another hundred sets of pajamas?” Akko raised an eyebrow.

“Only three,” Diana tried to hide her defensiveness. “And... several room accessories?”

Akko laughed, “pretty soon we’re going to run out of space in her room. This little lady has got you wrapped around her finger!”

There was no use denying it, so Diana simply rolled her eyes.

“Come here,” Akko smiled. “Welcome home.” She moved up to her tiptoes, and Diana turned her head to meet the brunette half-way for a small kiss. She appreciated the way Akko’s embraced tightened around her torso and warmed her chest; the way it made her family feel so... whole.

Akko pulled back, but Diana chased after her to steal another quick kiss, amused at the way Akko would still blush whenever she did that.

“So,” Diana gave her wife a look, “burnt pizza for dinner?”

“Mou, Sara! Your mother is such a bully!”

A/N: Woohoo finally churned another one out! I’m feeling a bit sick, and it’s early in the morning, so hopefully there aren’t that many typos/errors. Anyway I’m doing fine, hope you all are too! I’ve been re-reading Appointments over and over so I can get a feel of the writing style and flow I used to have for it and finally finish the next chapter. I do feel out of touch from how I was back in 2018; so I really need to do a lot of fanfic reading. You guys have any suggestions?

ALSO - meet Sara! Her name means vivid blossoms; it’s Japanese but also western-sounding so win-win for both moms. A homage to ‘Botany’, with the flowers and everything. She was originally meant to be Leia, because I’m a big Star Wars fan, but hey! I saw Sara and instantly thought it was the best fit. Hope you enjoyed. :) [Also, I’ve noticed I tend to switch between past / present tense a lot and I’ll be working to actively fix that moving forward!]

#Diakko #Dianakko #Diana x Akko #diana cavendish #atsuko kagari #kagari atsuko #Akko Kagari #Akko #LWA #Little Witch Academia #Fanfic #Yuri #Femmeslash #Fluff #Family #cute #wholesome #family fic

152 notes · View notes

thecozywhaleshark · 5 years

Text

Daggers and Roses

Word Count: 2534

Warnings: SMUT. Filth. Swearing. Fingering. Oral (female receiving). Dirty talk. Basically this is payback to hurt dear momma thot for hurting me so badly with everything she writes... (or is it love). Also this is my first time writing Changkyun smut so apologies in advance.

Summary: After nagging Changkyun relentlessly about letting you see his new tattoo, he finally lets you.

“What’s the point of getting a new tattoo if you won’t let anyone see it?!” You huff, stomping after Changkyun as he walks in front of you, pushing the shopping cart.

You and Changkyun had been roommates for about six months now, and things had worked out surprisingly well. You had been a little sketched out that he had advertised for a new roommate on Craigslist, but when you met up he had been very polite and nice, telling you he would be out of the apartment or locked in his room working most of the time, so you wouldn’t need to be worried about him bothering you.

You had decided to chance it, and he had been true to his word. You had rarely seen him the first few weeks after you moved in, both of you at work at different times, and both of you locked away in your bedrooms when you weren’t.

Eventually, the silence had gotten too much even for you, and you had knocked on his door and asked if he wanted to order take out with you.

Since then, you had become pretty good friends and hung out a lot - even if it was just sitting around together in silence.

You had also started to do the shopping together, figuring it was easier to buy a mass bunch of food to share and have free reign over it all, instead of making two trips and having to label all of your things individually.

With your jobs, often the only time you had to hang out together was during the weekly shopping trips on Saturdays, and this weeks topic of bickering, was over Changkyuns new tattoo.

"I'm sure it's not that bad. Come on, you've been hiding it for a week." You stress, tugging at the back of his shirt.

"It's been healing. Stop tugging at my shirt, it's still tender." He reaches behind him and bats your hand away.

"Healing my ass." You huff, your walk turning into a jog as Changkyun pushes off on the cart and rides it partway across the parking lot.

"YOU KNOW, SOME PEOPLE SHOW THEIR FRIENDS WHEN ITS STILL RED AND BLEEDING!" you yell, scrambling to keep up with him.

He snorts, hopping off the cart and tugging it to a stop as he reaches your car. "You hate blood."

"I could have delt!" you huff, finally reaching the car and pulling out your keys.

He raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, I might have thrown up after, but STILL."

He nods with a smirk and holds up the milk carton. "Open the trunk."

You roll your eyes and press a button, popping it open. He begins to load the groceries and you walk over to help him, continuing your rant.

"Like if it's like a drunken penis tattoo I get it, believe me I do. I once had a friend who got super wasted on tequila and woke up with a tattoo of Jack Black holding a dildo on his back. It can't be worse than that, right?"

Changkyun laughs. "It's not a drunken penis tattoo - or Jack Black for that matter."

"Then why won't you show me?" you whine, putting in the last bag and slamming the trunk.

He shakes his head and smirks, sliding into the passenger seat.

"Maybe later."

You sigh and start the engine. "I'm going to see it, I will rip off your shirt if I have to."

"That's aggressive."

Adjusting your mirrors, you lean over the back seat to peer out the window as you reverse. "I will do what I have to to see your tattoo Im Changkyun. Now stop being a pussy."

Leaning forward in his seat, Kyun presses the radio station and starts scanning. "Hurry up, if we don't get home soon, the ice cream is going to melt."

You roll your eyes and finish backing out, maneuvering your way through the parking lot. "Change the topic, okay, I see you. I'll let you, for now. But I will see that tattoo, don't you think I won't."

You make it home in relative silence - well as silent as it could be for a car ride with the both of you, Changkyun skipping through the stations the entire time, bickering whenever he did it during a song you liked, him yelling at you whenever the light turned green... okay, so maybe it wasn't a very silent ride.

As soon as you get back to the apartment you decide to continue to nag him about his tattoo. It takes you awhile, but eventually he snaps.

“Fine! You can see it. If you’re going to be that freaking stubborn about it…” Changkyun turns around and rips off his shirt.

You blink at the expanse of his back that has been exposed to you and try not to automatically reach out and touch his shoulders… nope bad no touch y/n.

Withdrawing your hand before it touches his skin, you lean in closer to inspect the design.

“Roses and a dagger huh? Cool,” you coo, and without realizing it your hand automatically traces down the dagger. “That’s hot.”

Changkyun shudders slightly underneath your touch and abruptly twists himself away from you.

“Okay, you’ve seen it. There you go.” He turns back to you, lifting his arms to slide his shirt back over his head.

You don’t know what comes over you, but you find yourself reaching for him, halting his progress.

“I said it’s hot, and you’re just gonna go right back to covering it up?” You quirk an eyebrow.

“What would you have me do?” He huffs, rolling his eyes. “I can’t go around shirtless.”

“Oh, I don’t think that would be so bad,” you whisper, stepping closer to him. Where had this boldness come from? You don’t know, but at the same time you love the thrill its sending down your spine.

His eyes widen before a slow smirk takes over his features. "Are you sure you want to start this babygirl?" He asks low, stepping closer to you.

"I thought I already had," you answer back, tracing your fingers over his chest. "Did you want to escalate it?"

He bites his lip and his eyes darken as he looks at you. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

You lick your lips and run your hands over his shoulders, looping them around his neck. "Why would I start it if I didn't?"

With that he grabs the back of your head and crashes his lips to yours.

Secretly, you had been thinking about this moment for weeks. You couldn't deny that he was cute, but you always thought the attraction was only on one end. Now you knew it went both ways.

Sliding your hands up to his hair, you tugged him closer to you, flicking your tongue at the seam of his lips, asking him to let you in.

He obliges almost immediately, letting your tongue into his mouth with a groan, before kissing you back harder, hungrier.

His kiss leaves you gasping as he moves down your neck, making his way down and finding every spot that makes you shiver, sucking hard to mark it before he continues.

Groaning, you let him discover and mark you, his hands balling the edge of your shirt to run his knuckles across your sides as you cling desperately to his tee.

He's starting to make his way towards your collar bones when you decide you want to explore his weakness too.

Tugging his head away from your chest, you bite your lip when he looks up at you, eyes dark with lust.

"My turn," you smirk, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before starting down his neck. He groans almost immediately when you nip at his ear and again when you've barely begun, making you smile.

"Fucks sake," he groans, sliding one of his hands into your hair to keep you in place. "Fuck me."

"That's the plan," you giggle, nipping at his skin with your teeth. "Fuck you, fuck me."

"You're so desperate for dick, you go after your own roommate huh?" He pulls you away from his neck and tugs at your shirt, bringing it up over your head. "Tell me, how long have you been thinking about this?"

He backs you up towards the couch and climbs over you, tugging down your bra to pop one of your nipples into his mouth. "How long have you been thinking about my dick, hm?"

You gasp as you feel his teeth nip over your pebbled bud, then sucking harshly. "Answer me."

"T-two months." You stutter, pressing his face back over you decollatage and hoping for more.

He responds with a harsh nip to the top of your breast and sucks another purple mark there.

"Two months," he murmurs, pulling down the other side of your bra and bringing his attention there. "You dirty girl."

You whimper as he begins to work on your other breast, once of his hands trailing down your stomach towards your jeans. Undoing the button and sliding under the band, he finds you soaked already and groans.

"What got you so hot baby? Was it the tattoo?"

You whimper as he begins to slide his fingers up and down your cunt, collecting your wetness on his fingers and dragging it over your clit.

You bite your lip trying to find a way to form a coherent sentence as he works you. "Part-partially."

"Partially?" he quirks an eyebrow at you. "What was the rest?"

You gasp as he turns his hand and presses down on your clit with his thumb, sliding two fingers down to probe gently at your entrance.

"You," you whine. "Fuck, it's just you... ChangKYUN." You cry out as he smirks at your answer and slides his fingers into your cunt slowly, pumping in and out.

"Gotta prepare you to take this cock baby, I know you want it." He lowers himself closer to you and begins to mark you down your stomach and back up to your mouth.

Grabbing at his shoulders you push him off so you can work your hands down his chest until you reach his shorts, grabbing him through the material.

"Fuck," he swears, his hips bucking into your hand and his hand going still in your pants as he tries to regain composure. "Don't DO that."

You smirk and do it again, this time tugging his shorts down and gripping him bare. "Don't do what?"

He groans and lets his head fall to his chest, watching your hand as it slides up and down his length.

Pulling his hand out of your jeans, he quickly rips them off the rest of the way and lowers himself to his forearms, rocking himself against your core.

"You want to be fucked so bad, don't you." He groans, liking the way your hands grasp at his shoulders to keep him going.

"Do you have something?" you ask, gasping as he grinds down against you.

"Fuck. Shit, one second." He pushes himself off you and heads quickly towards his bedroom, returning within the minute. When he comes back, he quickly rolls it over himself and slides back over you, rocking himself slowly.

"What do you want?" he asks lowly, sliding your legs apart even further and lining himself up at your entrance.

"For fucks sake Kyun-" you whine, bucking your hips. "Just get inside me already."

Smirking, he pushes himself in, moaning when you immediately clench around him.

"Let me in, come on baby," he grunts, reaching down to massage your clit until you relax for him. "That's it. That's my good girl."

You keen at his praise, wrapping your legs around his waist to press your heels to his ass, pressing him into you deeper.

"God, you're so tight." He moans, capturing your face in his hands and sloppily slotting his mouth onto yours. "Fuckin' shit. Please tell me I can move."

"Move." You command, bucking your hips and he starts shallowly, slowly going harder as you get used to him.

"Fuck, Kyun," you whine, arching your back as he begins to thrust harder.

"You take my cock so good baby, fucking hell it's almost poetic-" he pants, grasping your hips to try and get a better angle.

"Kyun, I-I'm close," you gasp, reaching for his shoulders and pulling him back down towards you.

"Come around me, I know you want to," he demands, kissing you once again as he aims for that spot deep inside of you that has you reeling.

Something about having both his cock and his tongue has you delirious, high on everything that is fully him, and within minutes you're coming around him, moaning his name into his mouth.

"Fuck baby," his hips stutter against yours as you spasm around him, calling his name. "That was so fucking hot."

He kisses you harder as he helps you ride out your orgasm, using your pulsing to help lead him to his own.

He comes in you with a loud groan, collapsing on top of you, but continuing to kiss you, albeit slower now.

Eventually the panting slows and he slips out of your folds, propping himself up above you and looking down at you. "Are you okay?"

You look up at him breathlessly and nod. "Better than."

He sighs in relief and leans down, kissing you gently. "I like you too, you know," he whispers, nudging your nose with his own.

You bite your lip to keep from giggling as you smile, leaning up to kiss him hard. "Do you like me enough to want to go again?" you tease, sitting up and pressing on his waist until you're flipping positions and you're the one on top.

He grins and sits up, grabbing your hips and picking you up, making you squeal. "I do, but not here."

He carries you into his bedroom and all but throws you onto the bed, making you bounce. "CHANGKYUN!" you yelp, limbs flailing as you try to steady yourself.

He climbs over you laughing and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "You're the one who wanted a round two."

"Yeah... but this time, I'm on top." You smirk, pushing him back against the headboard and sitting on his lap, running your hands over his shoulders and down his back.

"You just want to see the tattoo," he grins, grabbing your hips and pushing you back on the bed, sliding himself down between your legs. "But there are better positions to view it from." He presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, biting softly at the tender flesh.

You groan softly and slide your hands through his hair, propping yourself up on your elbows to get a better look of him. He was right, it was a better angle to see his tattoo. Reaching down, you trace your finger back up the dagger between his shoulder blades, the action that started it all. He shivers beneath your touch and retaliates, making you gasp when you feel his tongue between your folds.

You could always ride him later.

545 notes · View notes

haro-whumps · 4 years

Text

Box Boy Bedding

(CW: DUBIOUS consent, drugging, slavery, brainwashing, creepy + intimate whumper *very intimate*, videorecording)

Tag list: @thatsthewhump @whump-it @ashintheairlikesnow @fairybean101 @finder-of-rings @comfortforthepain @shameless-whumper @that-one-thespian @burtlederp @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @raigash @im-not-rare-im-rarr @spiffythespook

Masterlist

Adults only below cut

Ren trailed their fingers through Soren’s hair, watching the golden strands slip off their fingers and fan back down to Soren’s back. Soren delighted in the touch, as he always did, and Ren kissed his nose.

“Finish up,” they said, and went to their room, where the cameras were already set up. The dildo they’d purchased--not actually from Whumpees-R-Us, this was far too pleasurable for that lot--was no wider than their finger, at first. It had an internal chamber that one could snap a premade container of lube into, specially sized for the toy, and would then secrete the lubrication from designated pores over the duration of its use. But plenty of toys did that, the reason Ren had bought this one specifically was because the owner could plug in measurements, and the toy would slowly expand to that size. No need to prepare sweet Soren when they could just have a machine do it for them, at a steady and calculated pace.

And the lube they’d filled the container with was a special little something they’d picked specifically for today, too.

“Exalted, I—“

“Position 23,” Ren cut him off, turning to see him in the doorway. He was on the ground in a moment, obedient and unquestioning, though his face, what Ren could see of it, looked confused. “Pretty boy,” Ren praised, crossing over to him. “You’re always so good for me.”

“Thank you Exal—eep!” Soren squeaked as they pulled his pants down, flowing eggshell white cloth they’d picked themself for the day.

“You’re very welcome, Soren,” they said, voice smooth and low, as they pushed the dildo in. “Relax, baby, let it happen,” they purred.

“Y-Yes,” Soren said shakily, forcing his body to receive it, “Yes, Ren, ah!”

Ren held down the button that would power the toy on, and smiled when it beeped once. They pulled Soren’s pants back up and gave his rump a friendly little pat. “Good boy, Soren. Now we wait. I’m going to catch up on some shows on my laptop, come cuddle with me in bed.”

“Y-Yes, Exalted,” Soren said, rising slowly. He stood bow-legged for a moment, before stumbling after Ren, the intrusion leaving his gait strange and awkward. Ren laughed at him, then kissed him before shoving him into bed. He gasped and jerked on impact, the toy undoubtedly jarred by the movement.

“Such a pretty boy,” Ren said smugly, pulling out their laptop and making themself comfortable on the bed.

“Thank you,” Soren whimpered, shifting minutely, then again, more visibly, like he couldn’t get comfortable. He pressed himself up against Ren, face pushed into their hip. “E-Exalted?”

“Yes, angel?”

“Wh-what’s, um, why is, what’s happening?”

“I’m preparing you, sweetheart,” Ren said easily, petting his hair. “You’re going to be nice and loose and slicked up for me, and then when you’re all stretched out, I’m going to fuck you.”

“I-I see, Exalted, th-thank you for--AH!”

“You’ll feel it expand at different intervals,” Ren informed him with a carefully casual voice, like they couldn’t care one way or another. Inwardly, they were delighted. “It won’t hurt, baby, but you’ll feel it.”

“Y-yes, Honored One, I do, it, ah, it’s…”

“Distracting?”

“Yes, Exalted.”

“That’s okay, baby, you go ahead and just focus on it. I won’t need you to do anything for me until it beeps, you can go out of focus for a little while,” Ren said, stroking his hair, hoping he would focus entirely on it, on the sensation inside him. They hoped it would leave him desperate.

They rewatched old videos, mostly just eyeing Soren. The aphrodisiac in the lube worked faster than Ren had expected, but supposed that it made sense, given the location of absorption.

Soren quickly devolved into a flushed and shivery mess, body twitching involuntarily and his pretty cock pitching one hell of a tent in his loose pants. His wriggling grew increasingly pronounced, and his body jerked each time the toy expanded in size.

Ren got to watch, thrilled, every movement, every sudden twitch, every time he squirmed, every shudder that coursed through him. Ren got to listen, delighted, to every gasp, every whimper, every rustle the sheets made when he repositioned himself, desperate for some kind of relief. He alternated between pressing his face into their thigh so hard it had to hurt his nose, and prying himself away from Ren to struggle against the sheets, keyed up with a need so bad it looked painful.

“Ren,” he whined, high pitched and voice so full of that special need Ren nearly called it quits and pounced on him right there. But no, no, this had to be perfect.

“Mm? You say something baby?” Ren asked, pretending they didn’t hear, taking out an earbud.

“P-Please, please, I, I need, I n-need--”

“You need to be patient, precious Soren,” Ren purred, stroking his hair back from his sweaty forehead. He looked up at them with cloudy vision, the drug absolutely overwhelming his little brain, and they smiled, which prompted a shaky, mindless smile back.

“You’re so beautiful like this, Soren,” Ren commented, “I like how you look when you’re redfaced and desperate.”

“Please,” Soren gasped, hardly more than a whimper, “please.”

“I can feel your hand shaking against my thigh, pretty bird,” Ren murmured, shutting their laptop and putting it aside.

“Please, Ren, ple-ase,” Soren begged, voice so small, so shivery. He tried to slide his hand up, up their thigh, coax them into action, but they stilled him easily with two fingers against the back of his wrist.

“Patience, my pet.” Their voice was low and quiet. “Patience, my lovely little Soren.”

“I need--” his breath caught, fingers squeezing into Ren’s thigh, and then his whole body jerked, curling in on itself, his breath ripped out of him with a small cry.

“I know,” Ren soothed, petting down his spine, “You need me so badly, don’t you? Soren, you need me to take care of you.”

“Yes!”

“You know what’s coming and you’re desperate for it.”

“Yes, Ren, I want it, I want, I want it so bad,” Soren said deliriously, squirming on the blanket.

“You want me, Soren, word choice. You don’t want to be fucked, you want to be fucked by me.”

“Yes! Yes, sorry, you, I want you, I want you, Exalted, I want you, please, please!”

“You want me inside you,” Ren murmured, sliding their palm up under his shirt, feeling how inflamed the skin was there, feeling his skin twitch and shiver beneath their hand. “You want me over you, like this,” they said as they crawled on top, forcing his legs open.

“YES!” Soren cried, arching up, pressing into them with feverish urgency.

“You need me to take care of you,” Ren murmured, arms wrapping tightly around him and pulling him in flush against their body. “I’m the only one who can give you what it is that you’re aching so badly for.”

“Please, please, please, please!” Soren begged, before another spasm cut him off.

“You were trained for this, weren’t you Soren?”

“Yes!” he gasped, panting hard. And they hadn’t even started.

“But did you know? Soren, my Soren, you were born for this.” They tightened a fist in his hair, earning a cute little yelp. “You were made to be my angelic little whore. All your life, destiny has had a plan for you, and it ends with you here, wearing my collar, under me, realizing just how much you need me.”

“I need you!” Soren echoed, head thrown back and collar glinting faintly.

“That’s right,” Ren purred against his ear, “That’s right, my precious Soren.” They pushed their hips against him slow and heavy and Soren keened. “What you want, what you need, everything, it’s all me, and I’ll give it to you.” Ren pulled their fingers through his hair, gold catching the light. “The only thing you’ll ever need is me.”

The toy beeped three times, charming and cute, almost a little tune of its own, and Ren sat up, loving the way Soren cried out in despair, arms outstretched, his body following after them.

“Good boy, Soren, you were patient, and now it’s time. Get your clothes off,” Ren ordered as they took off their own shirt, and beamed at how Soren’s eyes, out of focus, dragged over their torso before he lept to obey them. He was flushed all over, cockhead leaking, and the moment his clothes were off he was back down in position twenty three, face pressed into a pillow and slender chest heaving with his breath.

“What a beautiful sight,” Ren murmured, stroking their hands over his skin. They tugged at the dildo teasingly, grinning when Soren gasped and whined, and then they gave it a sharper jerk, which made him cry out.

“You’re so gorgeous, Soren,” Ren said, turning it off and pulling it out slowly, admiring how it was now full sized, admiring how still he managed to keep himself relatively still despite how wound up he was.

“Please, please, please,” Soren begged into the pillow.

“Tell me,” Ren ordered, voice going harder than they’d planned as they flipped him onto his back. “Tell me what you need.”

“You!” Soren cried, digging his heels into the bed and arching up. He was trying, trying so hard, to get to them, and Ren smiled down at him.

“That’s right. Don’t ever forget it.” Ren settled between his legs and he whined, hands desperately grabbing at them, gaze glazed over but eyes on them, only them. “You need me, Soren. I’m the one who can give you what you need.”

They pressed their cock inside him, and it was a perfect fit. “Ah, Soren!” Ren praised, sliding in to the base in a single go. Soren’s whole body locked and shuddered, but he didn’t come, not quite. Not yet. There was something else he needed, something Ren had yet to give him.

“Please please please please please please, Exalted, please, pl-hgk, plea, please, nnnnnn,” Soren begged, his body squirming and pushing up against Ren’s.

“That’s right,” Ren purred. “Beg.”

They fucked him hard. They fucked him deep and breathless and fast, delighted by each needy noise and desperate gasp that tumbled out of him. He started off begging, then devolved into unintelligible babbling, and then devolved into wordless nonsense, utterly lost underneath Ren’s palms and cock.

“I’m going to come in you, angel,” Ren gasped, their own voice coming out wrecked, “And then you’ll have what you need.”

The only response Soren gave was a high keen, but it was enough for Ren. Sure enough, they came shortly after, and as they did they reached down and squeezed his cock with one hand. He clenched around them as he spilled, making the most delicious noise, and Ren knew they’d be playing and replaying that audio clip many, many times.

“Perfect, Soren,” Ren praised, slipping out of him and settling on the bed slowly, oozing down onto it and tugging their precious boy into their embrace. Soren clung to them blearily, unfocused and needy and wanting in the most perfect way. Perfect. Perfect. Finally, Ren was getting everything they deserved, and it was all just the way they wanted. The last two weeks were like a blissful dream, only Ren would never, ever need to wake up, not from this. “You were wonderful, my pet. Are you taken care of?”

“Thhh--” Soren slurred, “Thank you, Ren, thnnnk, oo.”

“Oh baby,” Ren said with a delighted laugh. They kissed his face and pet his hair, smiling fondly at him. “Go ahead and go to sleep now. We’ll have you bathe in the morning.”

“Here?” Soren asked, voice quiet and tremulous.

“Yes, angel, here, sleep in my bed tonight. I’ll keep you warm and taken care of, sweetheart, don’t worry.”

Soren gave them an unfocused, but utterly adoring smile, then slumped, exhausted, and Ren chuckled again. They got him tucked under the sheet and blanket, just accepting that they would need to make Soren do laundry the next day, and curled up around him, pulling out their phone until they, too, were tired enough to sleep.

126 notes · View notes

enchanted-prose · 4 years

Text

#14 She Holds the Key in Her Hand

my beta loved this chapter :,)

Word count: 5,218

Characters: Tobias, Imogen, Princess Amarinda, Mott, Renlyn (Original character), Feall (Original character), Jolly (Original character), Roden, Jaron

Notes: edited. im excited to see reactions.

Enjoy!

The atrium was large enough for a group of people, but small enough not to feel empty. Shelves lined the round walls, and the ceiling was made entirely out of glass. Plants, books, and small collected trinkets rested in odd places. Couches and padded chairs of all designs had been placed strategically around the massive fireplace. A massive rug kept the chairs a safe distance from the fire, which illuminated a series of paintings.

It was a treasure among the castle’s numerous libraries.

Renlyn had been responsible for most of the furnishings. She'd managed to turn a stern room into one of the most favorite places in the castle for Jaron’s inner circle.

"That's nice," Tobias said, gesturing to the book covers Amarinda, Imogen, and Renlyn were embroidering.

Imogen’s creampuff of a kitten opened a single green eye, stared at Tobias, and settled back against Imogen’s arm.

"Thank you, I suppose, but my embroidery has always been severely lacking," Amarinda teased, holding up her mediocre book cover. "I refuse to give up."

"I think you've improved," muttered Renlyn.

Amarinda feigned offense as everyone in the room began nodding.

Tobias kept his hands clasped behind his back as he stared out of the tower window. He kept hearing pieces of Amarinda’s conversation, but couldn’t contribute.

It was an unspoken pact that each time there was a regents’ meeting, Amarinda and Imogen would gather all information possible, and discuss it with each other while they tended to their needlework. Renlyn had been invited, but no husbands were allowed to participate.

Eventually, Tobias earned the right to be in the same room during a needlepoint session, and did his best not to encroach on the discussions.

"Very true, I still remember some of your earliest designs," Imogen yawned.

"Play fair, I was a child at one point."

"As were we all,” Imogen mused. “Except Renlyn, I suppose"

“I emerged from the womb fully grown, it’s true.”

Amarinda snorted, and pulled her needle free from its thread. She frowned. “I do wish I’d stop doing that.”

“Perhaps you should consider a longer tail?” Renlyn gestured to the long thread dangling from her own needle.

“Be careful with a longer tail, it sometimes causes the string to knot,” added Imogen.

Tobias, who didn’t know much about the art of embroidery, turned to one of the shelves. His practice fippler stared at him from its dusty pedestal.

Several weeks ago, Jolly had made his home in one of the many rooms in the castle, and offered to teach Tobias the fippler.

However, Tobias was a natural disaster when it came to certain instruments, and he made no point in practicing after Jolly left to perform for a Lord’s daughter’s wedding in the northwest corner of Carthya. The fippler knew Tobias’s sin.

He picked it up, and wriggled some of the pieces. Tobias blew a series of extremely off key notes through the mouthpiece. Imogen’s cat hissed and ran beneath her skirts.

The cringe he wore rivaled the crown of garbage that adorned some of the Vault entrances.

In practicing the fippler, Tobias failed to notice how close Amarinda, Renlyn, and Imogen had gotten. The veil and circlet Renlyn wore over her hair hid both Renlyn’s and Imogen’s faces. Amarinda drew her head back from the secret conversation, a smile on her face.

Don’t eavesdrop, don’t eavesdrop, don’t eavesdrop.

Ah! He could quietly play the fippler and look at all of the trinkets on the shelves. Many of them weren’t Carthyan, and even more of them had been made by Jaron, Imogen, and Fink.

The most beautiful image was a bird made from the outline of a hand, the thumb outline served as a head, and the other four outlined fingers served as colorful feathers. Jaron’s signature took up the entire bottom portion of the image.

Tobias flinched as a loud, pitchy squeal escaped from the fippler.

All members of the embroidery trio looked at him. His ears burned.

Jolly was going to kill him for abusing the instrument.

Unable to continue mistreating the fippler, for both his sanity, the women’s sanity, and the fippler’s sanity, Tobias set the instrument down on another shelf. He’d have to pick up practicing later.

Tobias took a step onto the rug and turned around himself. Shelves of books, bottled flowers, angry wooden knights Roden and Jaron used to throw at each other; the atrium was filled with hints of his friends.

Without the fippler, Tobias wasn’t distracted from Amarinda’s conversation.

He couldn’t stop himself from catching strings of phrases.

Certain words stuck out; words like “Blackberry Night”, and “Mandatory”.

Don’t intrude, Tobias, don’t intrude. They invited him to be in the same room because he didn’t feel the need to stick his nose into their business.

“- it wouldn’t be difficult,” Renlyn chuckled. “The decorations can be reused.”

Amarinda hummed, “But do they match our preferred color palette?”

“Do the colors even need to match the color palette?” Imogen asked.

Don’t intrude, don’t intrude.

Both Renlyn and Amarinda gasped, and then shushed each other.

All three of them were plotting. Tobias peered over his shoulder, only to make eye contact with Amarinda. He flung his gaze back to the window and prayed his flushed face would soon return to normal.

“Tobias?” Amarinda wore a charming smile. “Do you want to join our circle?”

“I thought I’d never get an invit-! Yes, I would love to join your circle, I appreciate your offer,” he said, bowing his head ever so slightly.

“I brought up Jaron’s stance on Blackberry Night,” Imogen explained. She and Renlyn inched away from Amarinda. “We decided we’ll take care of the party ourselves.”

“Thank you,” Tobias said as he sat down by Amarinda, grateful for the space Renlyn and Imogen had made for him. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

He recognized the proud look on Renlyn’s face. It was the look of a woman who knew how much power she had. The corner of her mouth turned up, the closest to a smile Tobias had ever seen from her. “Not exactly. I’ll be providing decorations for the castle. We’ve decided that we’ll require a series of colors for everyone to wear; the decision to host Blackberry Night has been a little short notice, and a lot of nobles wouldn’t be able to find something new to wear in time.”

“Ah, I see. I suppose I can help get the word out.”

Amarinda nodded, “I’ve agreed to help set up the decorations.”

“Our goal is to set up as much as we can before Jaron notices,” Imogen explained. “He puts a lot on his shoulders, and it’s only fair that we help him.”

“And I’m the one paying for Blackberry Night, not the crown, so our lovely king and queen don’t need to worry about the cost,” Renlyn sat a little straighter.

Sometimes Tobias forgot just how much wealth the Karises had. Renlyn didn’t enjoy discussing her assets outside of a business transaction.

“How long will it take you to get the decorations here?” Amarinda asked, setting her embroider on her lap.

Renlyn smirked, “Not very long at all, I have a residence not far from here, and I can always rent.”

Tobias tilted his head, “What exactly do you want to see done?”

“Trellises, blackberries hanging from the ceiling. I’d very much like Blackberry Night to look like a dream.”

“A dream? Amarinda is an expert when it comes to creating an atmosphere, you won’t be disappointed, Lady Ren.”

“Oh, I know, and if I am, I’ll redo everything by myself.”

She continued to explain that she wanted the magic of the party to stretch out as far as it could. Those who weren’t nobility would have their own rustic celebrations, and Renlyn wanted to be able to experience that same concept without having to take a tumble through leech filled mud. An army of farmers were awaiting her call to bring harvested berries and branches to the castle.

The entire castle was to be decorated, and it needed to be at least halfway done before Jaron returned from checking in on Feall.

Something was nagging at the back of Tobias’s mind.

Something important.

“Renlyn, how can you even afford this?” He asked, racking his brain for everything he knew about the Karises.

It wasn’t much.

She waved her hand, “I know how to make a profit.”

A profit. Tobias wrinkled his nose, there had to be more to it than that.

He wondered if the current unrest following the name Mireldis Thay had anything to do with Lady Renlyn Karise.

No amount of courage could motivate Tobias to blurt that out to the world.

“So it’s settled, we’re setting up as much as we can over the next two hours?” Imogen asked, a devilish glint sparkling in her tea-colored eyes.

“Oh, absolutely,” Renlyn winked. “Call in the page outside, I’ll send word to my staff. They’ll be excited to get involved.”

“I do have to recommend that we bring in fake pools. Queen Danika did that for her daughter’s birthday, and they were quite popular,” said Amarinda as she reached for Tobias’s hand.

“That-, that really would add a little extra something to Blackberry Night.”

Tobias grinned as he pictured Renlyn’s splendid plan for Blackberry Night. He’d always avoided participating in Blackberry Night while he was younger; many people used Blackberry Night to drink barrels and barrels of bees wine and lead wild hunts for fairies. It was a fool’s holiday, but a welcome one.

A tradition among young couples was to take a bouquet of flowers, wrap them together, and write a secret wish to tie to the wrapping. You’d take the bouquet and your secret wish with you to one of the many dances, find your partner, and hold onto the bouquet as you danced to light jigs and reels. The longer you held onto your bouquet, the more likely your wish would come true.

When the church bells rung at midnight, you and your partner would rush to the Roving River, and throw your bouquet into the water.

It was your choice whether or not you’d tell your wish to your partner.

Although in certain cases, certain wishes could be fulfilled during the remainder of Blackberry Night. Typically, these wishes led to rushed weddings and a series of babies born in the spring.

“Excited for Blackberry Night, love?” Amarinda asked, reaching over to brush her fingers over Tobias’s curls.

“We’ll see, I might have to tend to the drunken nobles who’ll try to punch their way through stained glass,” Tobias snickered. He looked back at Amarinda, studying her every feature. “Although. . . I do know of a few favors I can call in if needed.”

“I’d like that; I’d hate to be stuck with Roden as a dance partner again.”

“Why? Does he step on your toes?”

She laughed, “He’s a skilled dancer, surprisingly enough, but he’s not my husband.”

Tobias reached for Amarinda’s hand, and kissed her fingers, “I’ll pull strings, you’ll have a dance partner for Blackberry Night.”

“Then I’ll find a bouquet of flowers to throw.”

“Does that mean you’re writing the wish this year?”

“Absolutely,” Amarinda smiled. “And I won’t tell you what it is.”

“Are you sure?” Tobias stuck his bottom lip out as far as he could.

“You won’t get a single word out of me.”

The bounce of her red-brown curls captured all of Tobias’s attention as she threw back her head to laugh. Amarinda was a creature of grace and poise, and Tobias couldn’t stand the thought of his life without her.

Somebody was calling his name- probably Renlyn.

He didn’t care.

He could spend an eternity watching every flick of Amarinda’s hands.

The conversation continued without him.

“Right, as I was saying,” Renlyn wrinkled her nose. “My workers will be here within the hour. Amarinda, you’re welcome to include Tobias in decorating the main hall. Imogen, I take it you can handle the cooks?”

Imogen nodded, “They’ll be more than happy to spite Jaron in a way that won’t get them into serious trouble.”

“I suppose that’s good.”

“To clarify, we’ve decided on creams, pinks, and golds for the dress code?” Amarinda asked, excitement sparkling through her hands.

Tobias could sense the energy she carried.

He waited for Renlyn’s confirmation, and shared a smile with Amarinda. A ball was much needed at Drylliad. They’d be able to dance around the floor and forget the Faola, Mireldis Thay, and Oberson’s meddling hands for a few hours.

They’d be able to throw a bouquet and a secret wish into the Roving River and hope it comes true.

There were a handful of wishes always lingering in the back of Tobias’s mind, but he knew eventually their time would come.

It was a matter of being patient.

“Do you, ah,” Amarinda’s voice dropped. “Want to find a nice corner with me?”

“A nice corner? We’re in a nice- oh! That kind of corner!” Tobias chuckled, his ears burning as he realized what Amarinda was hinting at.

“I take that as a yes?”

“It better not be a corner where I can see you,” Renlyn gagged. “So childish.”

Renlyn’s obvious discomfort at the possibility of catching Tobias and Amarinda tenderly wrapped in an embrace drew a series of giggles from Imogen. She smiled, “It’s only childish if you get caught. I strictly remember seeing you with-“

“That’s not important!”

“Does Renlyn have a secret admirer?” Amarinda widened her eyes, plastering a mask of utter shock on her features.

“I most certainly do not! I have better things to do with my time!”

“Kissing is a good thing to do when you have the time,” Tobias teased. “Especially when you have the right partner, speaking of which. . .”

Renlyn jumped to her feet, “Don’t! No, no, no! I don’t want to see that!”

Tobias pressed a kiss to Amarinda’s nose, “See this?”

“No, I think she means this,” Amarinda explained, leaning in to kiss Tobias’s smile.

The cry of frustration Renlyn made only made Imogen laugh harder, which made Amarinda laugh, and then lead to Tobias’s burst of laughter too. Renlyn stood up, embroidery in hand, and bowed.

“I’ll be meeting with my staff, send a page if you have any questions,” she spat. “And if I find out the decorations aren’t taken care of because the two of you are off in a corner unable to keep your hands to yourselves, I’ll-”

“It’s alright, Ren, we’re just teasing you,” Amarinda’s laughter was contagious, her smile lit up the room.

“Whatever, I’m trusting you to stick to your duties.”

“And I promise neither Tobias nor I will disappoint.”

“Is this the conclusion to Drylliad’s first party planning committee meeting?” Imogen asked, laughter twinkling in her eyes.

“Consider this meeting adjourned, we’ll return to further discuss our plans in a few hours’ time,” Renlyn bowed her head, clasped her hands behind her back, and left the atrium

“Party planning committee?” Tobias couldn’t contain his laughter.

Imogen shrugged, “We needed an official name, ‘Sisters of the Book Embroidery Circle and Tobias’ doesn’t really work.”

“Does this mean we’re going to go behind Jaron’s back when he says he’ll think about throwing parties?” Amarinda wrinkled her nose. “I’m in, especially if party funds come from our purses rather than Carthya’s.”

Amarinda was proving her promise to Renlyn only half an hour later; after she and Tobias had finished in their private corner of course.

Tobias had witnessed battle firsthand, he’d been subject to various types of terrors, and he’d seen many a grisly sight while working with the royal physician.

His precious wife had the strength of a military commander when it came to planning a party.

Her troops were the artisans and servants standing at her feet. Half of them held themselves like cornered mice, and the other half gawked at Amarinda. Her ability to capture any crowd’s attention was a talent not many people had.

“My lady, traditionally, Blackberry Night is much less detailed,” explained a larger gentleman.

Tobias wasn’t exactly sure what position the large gentleman held.

“No, no,” Amarinda shook her head. “I don’t think you understand, it’s vital that we stick to pinks, golds, and creams. This should be treated like a gala, not a barn dance.”

He wasn’t quite sure what to add, Amarinda was handling the situation on her own. He’d rather remain silent than hold her back.

So he watched his wife command her troops.

Amarinda motioned for several servants carrying baskets of brambles to stand before her. She instructed them to put the brambles around the base of every column in the great hall. With that taken care of, Amarinda began instructing the next group.

Watching her was fascinating. Tobias continued to stand behind her, watching as the great hall slowly began its transformation.

When he was younger, his grandmother brought him wondrous books of fairies and knights. Tobias could remember that one of the books was painted, and bore pictures of a magnificent fairy kingdom.

By the time Renlyn, Amarinda, and Imogen were done with the castle, Tobias was certain he’d see that fairy kingdom in person.

“Do you think Renlyn will take care of the lights? She didn’t give me specific instructions, and I’d hate to mess up her grand vision,” Amarinda said, reaching back for Tobias’s hand.

“I think it’s alright,” he shrugged. “She trusts you enough to do this.”

Was it wrong that Tobias was slightly shocked that Renlyn was even allowing Amarinda, Imogen, and himself to help with her plans?

He’d grown to be on better terms with her, but Tobias knew how important order was to Lady Renlyn Karise. Trusting others to maintain that order wasn’t always an easy choice.

Tobias would know. He’d rather do things on his own than trust the other physician’s apprentices to do the same task.

The front doors burst open, and a trio of men stumbled in.

Odd, Roden and his friends rarely slurred around drunk during the day. Was that Mott with them?

Tobias rolled his eyes, returning his attention to Amarinda and the task at hand. It wasn’t his responsibility to limp Roden and whoever else up to their rooms. They were grown men, and Tobias didn’t want to play nursemaid any longer.

“By the Saints-,” Amarinda gasped, shooing the servants away. “Tobias, Tobias! Look!”

“It’s only Roden, I think he managed to drag Mott to a tavern this time,” he waved his hand.

Amarinda’s voice went small, “That’s Jaron, Tobias, not Roden.”

It clicked into place, almost. The realization wasn’t quite there, similar to the way not every toy’s pieces fit together when assembled by a child.

Roden was shoving his way through the small crowd that had gathered around Mott, and was pushing them back as Harlowe ducked under Jaron’s arm. Feall had his arm wrapped around his torso, supported by Mott.

Vomit stained Jaron’s trousers.

His skin was paler than the freshly washed sheets out in the courtyard.

Tobias recognized the lines of pain on Jaron’s face. The creases in between his brows grew deeper as Jaron fought off tears. Jaron didn’t have any outer injuries.

This was much worse.

“Get him upstairs!” Tobias barked, his voice not his own. “Mott, tell me what happened, spare me no details.”

“Faola attack,” Mott grunted, and transferred half of Feall’s weight to Roden’s outstretched arms. “He was asking for Feall, Jaron attacked, the Faola got a kick at Jaron’s right leg and sent him straight down. Commander Regar managed to hold the Faola off long enough to escape, but Feall is sporting an-”

“Take care of the king!” Feall growled. “I was foolish to trust you Carthyans with this matter, and now Regar is dead!”

Roden was practically carrying Feall, “Did you see Regar fall?”

Mott shook his head, “Regar is in danger, Roden, I can handle carrying Feall up to the physician’s chambers, but you need to save Regar. Check by the Vaults, lower Drylliad.”

“Don’t let either of them die, Tobias,” Roden grunted. “I’ll be back.”

Faces of shock passed. Tobias ordered the physician’s apprentices out of the chamber, and instantly began shuffling through herbs and poultices. Imogen soon joined him, and began grinding various herbs into powder.

She was pouring the mixture down Jaron’s throat within seconds.

Tobias began patting down Jaron’s ankle, checking for broken bones. He couldn’t see any evidence of breakage, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t any damage.

“Imogen?” Tobias asked, gesturing to Jaron’s thigh. “Any breaks?”

She shook her head, “None that I can feel. Hand me a knife, I can cut through the trouser leg.”

“You’re being awfully calm.”

“My anger is balancing my hysteria, Tobias. I promise you’ll see my temper very soon.”

Her threat carried too much weight.

Her tea-colored eyes so full of kindness turned to stone all too easily.

“Come- come here,” Jaron murmured, sweat trailing down his temples. “Imogen-.”

“Keep quiet, I promise I’ll listen,” Imogen swore, she quietly gestured to the shears on Tobias’s worktable.

Shears in hand, Tobias began cutting away Jaron’s trouser leg, tossing aside the vomit covered fabric each time he finished with it.

“I know- I know who- ah!”

“Sorry, found the bruise,” Tobias choked, gesturing to the foot sized shadow on Jaron’s thigh.

He’d never heard Imogen swear that profusely before.

“The Faola did this to you?” Imogen murmured, her hands balling into fists.

“I suppose he didn’t like my sense of-,” Jaron coughed. “My sense of humor. But that’s not what I need to-”

Tobias frowned at Jaron’s bruise, “He needs to stop talking.”

“I think I know who Mireldis Thay is!”

“Imogen, he’s getting delirious-”

“Let me speak To- ow!” Jaron flung his head back against his pillow. “Curse this-!”

Jaron’s forehead was slightly warmer than usual, but not dangerously hot. His ramblings cut through the chamber as Tobias left Imogen at Jaron’s bedside, and returned with a damp cloth for Jaron’s forehead.

He once again swore that he knew who Mireldis Thay was.

“Where’s Ren?” rasped Jaron.

“She’s busy,” Tobias said. “And you need to rest. Your leg is bruised, but not broken. You’re to lay low for the next few days.”

“There’s too much to do!”

“You’ll have to trust us to take care of it then. We’ll put on Blackberry Night in your absence.”

“Tobias!”

“Imogen’s in on it too!”

That earned him a pair of angry glares. Imogen frowned, and dabbed at Jaron’s forehead, “You need to lay back, Jaron. Can you do that for me?”

The fire in Jaron’s eyes was clouded with pain, even Tobias could see that. He grumbled a complaint, but finally settled back into the pillows.

Mott lingered in the back of the chamber, and gestured for Tobias.

Imogen had finally managed to capture Jaron’s attention. His gaze was glued to her face. Every so often, Imogen brushed a stray curl from his damp forehead.

They didn’t need Tobias’s company.

“Do you think Regar will be alright?” Tobias asked as he stood next to Mott. He pressed a hand over his heart, hoping the motion would force himself to calm down.

“Count to ten, time sped up for a moment,” Mott murmured. “Does it always feel that rushed when somebody comes needing medical attention?”

One, two, three. . .Tobias inhaled. Four, five, six. . . Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. In. Out.

The stakes were different in Jaron’s case because not only was he Tobias’s friend, he was also the king. Jaron’s survival was the highest priority.

Death was unpredictable, and Tobias only had his mind to combat it.

“Yes and no,” he shrugged. “Sometimes the patient is too far gone, and sometimes the rush of the moment slows to a still. I always carry extra concern for Jaron; you never know what kind of trouble he gets into.”

“Where is Feall?” Mott scratched the back of his bald head.

“Another chamber, we typically keep patients in separate spaces, keeps things clean and tidy.”

Tobias pinched the bridge of his nose, his heart had finally calmed.

A lone Faola had attacked four men, if Mott’s report was true. The Faola challenged not only Feall, but Mott, Regar, and the king of Carthya.

Two of those four were left wounded.

Roden would be returning soon with word about the third.

“Jaron’s claiming that he knows who Mireldis Thay is,” Tobias noted.

“Not quite sure how he figured that out, or where he got the time,” said Mott. He inhaled. “Is he going to be alright?”

If Tobias’s assumption was right, and the only damage Jaron sustained was that large bruise on his leg, everything would be fine.

But things rarely worked out in Tobias’s favor.

He rolled his shoulders forward ever so slightly, his mind winding through layers and layers of ignored findings. The Faola had attacked Feall so long ago, and Tobias had to stand in Roden’s way.

His kindness had brought harm to Jaron, his closest friend.

This was his fault.

“I can see your guilt, Tobias,” Mott muttered. He frowned, “This is out of your control.”

“But I was there, Mott, I was there during the first attack. I couldn’t let somebody die, and now Jaron’s tossing on a medical cot because of it!”

Tobias flinched at his own words.

He hadn’t meant to grow so frustrated.

Had they been wrong in pushing aside Mireldis Thay? Did she have more to do with the Faola? Was Feall right in fearing her every move?

Was Oberson’s irrational fear of Lady Thay really that irrational?

Imogen chuckled lightly, she was holding Jaron’s hand. His eyes had finally closed.

“There’s something I-,” Jaron paused to heave in a breath. “Tobias, you need to do something for me.”

“Promise me you’ll rest and I’ll consider it,” Tobias countered.

Jaron’s ghostly smile didn’t belong on his exhausted face. “I need you to ask questions for me.”

------------------------------------------------

The great hall had changed in the few hours Tobias had tended to Jaron. Renlyn’s staff was all too talented at quietly setting up for a ball.

He doubted that this was the first time she’d set something up like this.

It was easy, slipping through the crowds of servants rushing to fulfill Renlyn’s requests. Tobias usually didn’t sneak. There wasn’t a reason to suspect him of everything.

But this time was different.

This time, he was sneaking around for Jaron. His instructions were clear.

Jaron insisted that a certain troubadour knew more than he let on. It was this realization that led to Jaron’s bruised leg, he was sure of it.

Jolly would be hiding at the Dragon’s Keep, singing bawdy songs and asking for garlins.

It was Tobias’s duty to get Jolly to share crucial information.

Tobias? A spy?

It was bad enough sneaking around trying to find murky answers, but it was worse knowing that Jaron expected a handful of murky answers.

The Dragon’s Keep was more crowded than usual. Tobias crossed his arms as he slipped in, dodging as many flying fists as he could.

The bright orange jerkin was the first thing he saw. Jolly was slumped in a corner booth, his lute at his side.

“Not who I was expecting, Lord Branch,” Jolly smirked. He gestured to the open seat across from him. “I’m only a little disappointed, but you’re welcome to take a seat.”

“Who were you hoping for?” Tobias muttered, sitting down across from Jolly. He shook his head when a barmaid offered to bring him a drink.

“A king, I suppose.”

“Jaron?”

“Be more creative.”

“Oberson?”

“Closer, but not quite.”

Games, games. Tobias pinched his nose, “Jaron was attacked today, he was trying to keep an eye out for Feall.”

“He’s meddling,” Jolly called over a barmaid, asking for another drink. “You caught me at a bad time, I’m frustrated and raging drunk.”

“Why?”

“Friends, I suppose. I love my friend with my whole heart, but she’s going down a path I will not follow.”

Ah ha! Jolly had left a door open for questions. Tobias leaned his elbows on the table, trying his best not to seem too eager. “What’s her name?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, doctor boy?”

“I would, actually.”

“It’s not my story to tell, I’m sorry,” Jolly took his fresh tankard, and drained as much liquid as he could.

It wasn’t his story to tell. A friend was going down an unfollowable path. A lute was playing, and a man’s low voice rang through the hushing crowd. Jaron had hummed the song multiple times throughout the week.

Ingrithay.

Tobias smacked his forehead, cursing himself for forgetting vital history lessons with his wife late at night. Ingrid Thay. Ingri. Ingri Thay.

Ingrithay.

“Ingrithay is about the queen of Idunn Craich, isn’t it? Queen Ingrid Thay, wife of Graer Thay, stepmother to Mireldis Thay. You’ve been dropping clues.”

Jolly threw back his head and laughed, “I’ve been dropping clues!?! I’ve thrown them to you as best I can, but I will not tell the story. It is against what I do; if I can’t keep a secret, I can’t keep my head.”

“I’m a member of Queen Danika’s family, you can-”

“Through marriage, Lord Branch,” Jolly corrected.

“That still holds, you can tell me. You have nothing to fear. I know you know who Mireldis Thay is, and I want to help. Tell me who she is, and we can-”

“I love Mireldis Thay more than I fear any king or queen, my Lord. No bargaining in the world would change my stance.”

Tobias had never seen Jolly’s face so serious before, and frankly, it frightened him. There was no trace of a smile or a musical note.

Nothing but determination.

“Amarinda and I want to-,” Tobias began, but Jolly held up his hand.

“I’ll give you a single hint, but don’t betray my trust, Tobias. There is more to me than music and laughter.”

More than music and laughter.

He shuddered despite the warmth in the tavern.

Jolly drained the rest of his tankard, and slammed it down. He dragged his hand across his face, “Mireldis Thay has a bone to pick. I won’t help her, and I won’t stop her, but you can do what you can.”

“Tell me where she is, Jolly,” Tobias grunted. “She attacked the king, didn’t she?”

“To her, Jaron is a blocking piece. She’s still a princess, despite this all, and you know how royals get.”

A memory flashed across Tobias’s vision.

A glimpse of a smug, rare smirk.

His heart thudded in his ears, and he was certain he was correct.

But he needed Jolly to say it.

Tobias’s voice was small. Too small. “Mireldis Thay has been living under our noses the entire time, hasn’t she?”

All it took was the slightest nod of Jolly’s head. “You know her, and I know her. Mireldis has played this game with only one goal in mind, and soon she’ll have her winning move.”

A rare smirk, a flash of gold hair. Tobias pressed his fists to his eyes.

Mireldis Thay, a fugitive, was serving the queen of Carthya.

And Tobias had left her in the castle, close enough to the king to strike a killing blow.

He tried to ignore Jolly’s chilling laugh as he fled the tavern.

#fic friday #the ascendance series #ocs #the whole crew got involved with this one #tospias #tobias #prince jaron #roden #princess amarinda #imogen #mott

13 notes · View notes