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baepsaesbae · 3 years

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Spring Will Come Again

Pairing— Jeon Jungkook x reader

Genre— Photographer!Jungkook x Baker!reader, SMUT +18, fluff, angst, Virgin!Jungkook, Sub!Jungkook, Switch!Jungkook

Warnings— Finger sucking, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, squirting (?), slight choking, there are a lot of emotions, Jungkook is literally so sweet gosh I just wanna hold him tight, this fic is kind of a rollercoaster of emotions bc I myself do b going thru it

Word Count— ~10.9k

Summary— Springtime generally brings new beginnings, but being stuck in a small town all your life means nothing ever changes. Finally, something, or rather, someone, stumbles into your life. Can this shy boy manage to change your life forever?

A/N— This beautiful banner was made by @dee-ehn! Please let me know what you think of this fic! Hope you guys enjoy~

It all started on a beautiful spring day. Something had convinced you to go on an unprecedented early morning walk for some reason.

The morning air was cold but crisp. You were bundled up in your favorite sweater, and the scarf that your grandmother knitted for you was wrapped snugly around your neck. Normally you would be immersed in your headphones, but since today was already unusual you decided to forgo the music.

You walked along the banks of the stream that flowed next to your neighborhood. This particular stream held nothing but fond memories. You grew up here with all the other kids. During the summer breaks, you’d play out here from morning to nightfall. This was the place where you saw your first fireflies, and where you won your first fist fight.

You stopped to sit on the grassy hill that ran alongside the banks, relishing in nostalgia as you took in a breath of fresh air. Everything is so different now. Everyone moved away to pursue their careers or to go to a big university. You were the only one left. Your parents urged you to go to college, but you refused. Who else would help run the bakery?

As much as you hated to see it, your parents were growing old. Managing the family bakery was getting harder on them. You were such a huge help to them since you basically managed all of the front-of-house work. They worked diligently in the kitchen every day to create the best baked goods in town.

You had always dreamt of leaving this small town. You’ve fantasized about attending a big university in the middle of a bustling city since you were a little kid. Unfortunately, that can’t happen now. You can’t leave your parents or the bakery behind. You held no resentment though, you loved it. Being an only child was a bit lonely at times, but your parents made you feel loved no matter what.

You laid on the grassy hill, watching the clouds roll by. Maybe life was better this way. It was simple, and you always knew what to expect. Day in and day out, the routine was always the same.

Everything changed on that day. That was the fateful day that you ran into him. Or rather, he ran into you.

“Good morning, ____! Where were you this morning? Why weren’t you answering your phone?” your concerned mother asked when you returned home.

“Morning mom. I went on a walk and forgot my phone I guess. Sorry about that. I ended up laying on the hill by the stream,” you replied as you sat at the breakfast table.

Living with bakers was probably one of the biggest blessings in your life. Every meal smelled delectable and you had access to all the fresh goodies you could desire.

“Wow, you were awake before we were? What a surprise. Here, tell me what you think of this loaf,” your dad set it in front of you.

You tossed a piece of bread into your mouth. The taste was savory to say the least. It was your father’s signature banana bread loaf, only this time with a small twist.

“Why’d you take out the walnuts? It’s still delicious though,” you said, devouring another piece.

“Well so many customers complain about having nut allergies now. I thought we could sell more if we take them out! You think we can sell this?” he asked eagerly.

“I think this will be our newest best seller!” you happily replied, “I’m gonna go open up the shop. See you guys soon,” you kissed them each on the cheek before taking your leave.

The bakery was down the street from your house, so the commute was only about 5 minutes even if you walked slowly. You brought your phone with you this time, so you were jamming out to your music, oblivious to the outside world. You were so out of it, that you didn’t have time to react to the person quickly rounding the corner.

One moment you were walking to work, the next you were knocked onto the cold hard ground. Your assailant fell on top of you, and you soon locked eyes with him. It was as if time stood still for a moment. He was the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen. His eyes were wide with concern, and for a moment, you swore you saw stars twinkling within them.

It took a second to register that this stranger was on top of you, in a compromising position no less. You’ve never been this close to a boy since...well it has been a while. Your legs were intertwined and his nose was only inches from yours.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you until the last second,” the boy apologized as he scrambled to get off of you.

As he helped you up, you reassured him that you were fine. You laughed off the incident and took the boy by surprise. You had the most angelic laugh he’d ever heard. He stood awkwardly gazing at you, before you asked him if he was okay.

“I-I’m fine! I’m glad you’re okay. I apologize again for being so careless,” he bowed.

“I’m also at fault! I wasn’t paying attention either. So shame on both of us,” you smiled to show him you were joking, “Enjoy the rest of your day, don’t run into anyone else!”

And with that, you parted ways. You forgot about the stranger as the morning rush piled into the bakery.

Despite being located in a small town, your parent’s were nationally renowned bakers. The bakery was always busy. That was part of why you loved it so much, you were never bored. The regular customers were your favorite. Most of the townsfolk had been coming to the bakery since you were little.

“Is this banana bread new?” Mrs. Park, the local florist, asked.

“Technically, yes. It’s the exact same recipe but without the walnuts,” you replied.

“Perfect! I’m not too fond of walnuts but I adore your parents’ banana bread,” Mrs. Park beamed, handing you a loaf along with other goods she picked up.

“How’s Jimin?” you asked as you rang her up.

“Oh he’s doing well! He loves it out there in the big city. At first, I was terrified of letting him go. He’s just always been so passionate about dancing, I finally had to cave in. He recently auditioned to be part of some fancy dance crew, and he got in! Can you believe it?” Mrs. Park began to dote on her son.

“That’s amazing! I’m happy for him,” you smiled.

“You know, ____, Jimin is still single. You two would be perfect together--”

“Long distance relationships are hard, Mrs. Park,” your mother interrupted her, swooping in to save the day. Thank god. You wouldn’t have known how to react.

“She could always move out to the city to be with him!” Mrs. Park retorted, not picking up on the awkward situation she created.

“I could never leave the bakery,” you responded quickly.

“Ah, yes that’s right. You have such a good daughter, Mrs. _____. Jimin never took any interest in taking over the family business. I’m jealous of you!” Mrs. Park said to your mom.

After what seemed like an eternity, Mrs. Park finally left. You were fond of her, but she never knew when to stop talking. Jimin was a good friend of yours growing up. You never wanted to admit that you had a huge crush on him. You figured it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, since he was so fixated on moving out.

The morning rush had died down. You took this opportunity to restock and tidy things up before the afternoon rush. The store bell rang, indicating the arrival of another customer.

“Welcome in! I’ll be with you shortly,” you called out from behind the counter.

“No worries, thanks!” the customer yelled back.

Once finished, you popped up with a bright smile on your face. Your parents taught you to always greet the customers with a smile as soon as they walk in.

However, the customer wasn’t facing your direction. He was looking at the baked goods that aligned the opposite wall. You patiently waited for him to make his selection. He kept walking back and forth, eyeing all of the baked items. You left your station behind the counter and approached him.

“Can I help you with anything, sir?” you piped up behind him.

The man jumped back, startled.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you,” you apologized.

“It’s okay! I didn’t hear you at all. You must be some sort of ninja-- Oh it’s you!” the boy turned around to face you.

It was the gorgeous boy who ran into you earlier.

“Hello again! I guess it was my turn to frighten you,” you joked.

“That’s fair,” he nodded, “What’s the best thing here?”

“Mmm that’s hard for me to say, considering that I love them all. What kind of tastes and textures do you like?” your customer service persona kicked in.

“I like sweet things I guess? I like bananas too…” he trailed off.

“We don’t have any bananas in fruit form, but we do have killer banana bread,” you beamed.

“That sounds good, but I don’t really like nuts so--”

“There are no nuts in our new recipe! You must be lucky, this is the first day that we’ve started selling them. Want me to ring you up a loaf?” you interrupted him.

“Oh no nuts? Okay, I’ll try it,” he agreed quietly.

“Would you still like to get something sweet as well?”

“Yeah, if that’s okay,” he nodded timidly.

“Of course it’s okay! My personal favorite is our milk pudding bun. The pudding in the middle is pretty creamy plus the bread is unbelievably soft! If that’s not for you, then we have a classic chocolate bun filled with, surprise surprise, chocolate. We also have…” you led the boy around the entire bakery.

You were too focused on recommending various breads to notice him stealing glances at you that lingered longer than normal. He patiently let you talk his ear off about the goodies.

“I’ll go with the milk pudding bun,” he smiled shyly.

“That was the first one! You should’ve stopped me from rambling,” you huffed.

“I wanted to know my options. Plus you seemed pretty happy,” he added softly.

“Alright, let’s go check you out then,” you headed to the counter, “I haven’t seen you before. What brings you to our little town?” you attempted to make conversation.

“Mmm, to get away, I guess,” the boy said after a pause.

“Are you in some sort of trouble?” you leaned over the counter to whisper.

“Kind of,” he whispered back.

“Stay right here, I can call the police,” you frantically murmured as you whipped out your phone.

“No no! Not like that,” he couldn’t contain his laughter, “I’m a fine arts student. My main focus is photography, but lately I haven’t been able to capture anything worth printing,” he explained.

“Ohhh,” you said, feeling dumb, “Then why come to a town in the middle of nowhere? You won’t find much here.”

“To an untrained eye, maybe so. But to a professional, beauty can be found anywhere,” he said proudly.

“Then why can’t you find anything back home? And aren’t you still a student?” you questioned.

“You know, I was really hoping that you’d let me have that,” the boy deflated.

“Aw, I’m sorry! If you ever want to take photos of the beauty that is bread, you’re always welcome here,” you smiled.

“I might take you up on that offer,” he said as he grabbed the purchased goods, “What’s your name by the way?”

“____. Yours?”

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“I’ll see you around, Mr. Jeon Jungkook. Oh! And if you’d like a tour of the town, I’d be more than happy to show you around,” you suggested.

“That would be nice,” Jungkook pondered, “Where can I find you?”

“I’m here every day. I get off at 3pm,” you answered.

“Cool. I’ll drop by tomorrow, if that’s okay?”

“Sure! See you then!” you waved goodbye.

“Who was that?” your mother asked when the boy left.

“Some photography student that said he wanted to get away for some inspiration. I offered to give him a tour tomorrow after work,” you explained.

“Do you want me to come with you?” your dad offered.

“I’ll be fine on my own, thanks,” you quickly turned him down.

You spent the next morning frantically flip flopping between outfits. Should you go with a pretty top paired with a skirt? Or perhaps keep it casual with a t-shirt and jeans? Or should you go with a simple dress? You know you’re supposed to be a tour guide, but you still wanted to look somewhat presentable. You settled for the dress. It gave off a “cute but not trying too hard” type of vibe.

Time seemed to slowly drag on as you waited for Jungkook to return. You had already mapped out your route, making sure it was efficient (not like there’s much to see anyway). You wanted to surprise him with a picnic at the end of the tour. Hopefully it could help show off the natural beauty of the forests and meadows that surrounded the town. As the clock approached 3pm, you began to wonder if springing a surprise picnic on a stranger was odd. Oh god, what if it was? You hadn’t had much interaction with people your age once all your friends went off to live their own lives. Panic was starting to set in when the front bell chimed.

“Hey! I’m a little early, but I can wait around until you’re finished,” Jungkook greeted you. You noticed a fancy looking camera dangling around his chest.

“It’s all good! Business has been slow today, I’ve been bored,” you admitted.

“Oh I see--” Jungkook was cut off.

“Hi! I’m ____’s mom. Did you like the bread you bought yesterday?” your mom materialized out of nowhere with a pan of fresh bread in her hands.

“It was delicious! Better than anything I could get in the city,” Jungkook complimented.

“Why did you batch a new batch? No one has come in after 1pm,” you aggressively whispered to your mom.

“I got bored,” she pouted, “Here, have one! On the house, think of it as a welcoming present to our town,” she motioned for Jungkook to take a fresh loaf off the tray.

Jungkook’s face lit up at the offer as he thanked her for the snack. His smile lingered as he took a bite, savoring the taste.

“You must have some sort of good luck charm; you’re getting even more free food later,” you chuckled as you plopped a wicker basket onto the checkout counter.

“Sweet,” he beamed.

You let out a small sigh of relief. It didn’t seem like Jungkook was creeped out by the thought of eating with a stranger. With the basket in hand, you led Jungkook across the town. There truly wasn’t much to see. Your family’s bakery was in line with the rest of the town’s shops. You passed by the florist, the cafe, the grocery store, and the post office within the first 3 minutes just by walking down the street. You added in little personal stories with each business that you pointed out.

Jungkook paused by the flower shop, in awe of all the beautiful arrangements. His eyes scanned the outside displays, as if he was looking for something.

“Need something specific, dear?” Mrs. Park asked her potential customer.

“Do you have Tiger flowers?” he inquired.

“Tiger… No, but I can probably order some for you,” she offered.

“Ah, that’s alright. I’m sorry to bother you,” Jungkook apologized before rejoining you.

“Did you wanna take a picture of that specific flower?” you asked him as you strolled along the sidewalk.

“Yeah, it’s my birth flower,” he shyly nodded.

“Oh nice! I don’t know what my birth flower is, but yours sounds pretty. Ah, here is the town square. Over there is the courthouse/government building/boring stuff happens in there probably,” you said as you pointed out the building.

“This is cool,” Jungkook examined a decrepit well that stood in front of the courthouse.

“I guess. I always thought it would be better if they replaced it with a big pretty fountain or something,” you mentioned as you looked down into the dark abyss of the well.

Jungkook said nothing as he began taking pictures of the well from various angles. You watched him frown at each picture he took before he tried to take another.

“Maybe you could take a picture looking into the well? I mean, you’d probably have to stand on it to get a full shot and your feet will be in it but…” you suggested before realizing that you knew nothing about photography.

Jungkook immediately hopped onto the well, disregarding the loose pebbles that crumbled away under his weight. Pointing the camera directly down into the well, he snapped a couple of pictures. He didn’t bother hopping off of the well before scrolling through the pictures he just took. You caught yourself staring at him, admiring his features. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, his lips were pursed, and the wind was blowing his bangs over his forehead ever so slightly. He really was a handsome boy, though he seemed to be completely unaware of it.

“How’d it turn out?” you asked as he climbed down.

“Not bad actually. Better than the angles I took at first,” Jungkook smiled with approval, “I’ll show you after I touch them up.”

“I’m excited to see! Also, this basically concludes the tour because everything else is residential stuff. Unless you wanna take pictures of random people’s homes,” you joked.

“I’m good. Is this where we’re eating? I kinda skipped lunch,” Jungkook looked at the wicker basket in your hand.

“Nope! I’m gonna take you somewhere special. Are you okay with a bit of light hiking?”

“Sounds fun,” Jungkook grinned.

“Perfect! Now it’s your turn to lug this thing around,” you said as you handed him the deceptively heavy basket.

You took him to the outskirts of town, where nature was left untouched.

“Is this where all the cool kids have their picnics?” Jungkook asked as you led him down an old trail.

“All the cool kids left this town a while ago, so I can’t speak on their behalf. However, this is where I like to have my picnics so take that in whatever way you please,” you responded.

It was a sunny day on the verge of being too hot, but the densely wooded forest provided enough shade to make it comfortable. Your parents used to take you on walks in these woods when you (and they) were younger. Of course, now the hilly paths and loose soil would only wreak havoc on your parents’ old knees. You’ve grown accustomed to exploring on your own. Bringing Jungkook along was a pleasant change.

“You okay with eating here?” you suddenly stopped, pointing over to a field just off the trail.

“I’ll eat anywhere, I’m starving,” Jungkook quickly nodded.

“I’m fully aware of that; I could barely hear the birds chirping over the sounds of your stomach growling,” you teased.

An old tree that was large enough to cover up the entire picnic blanket with shade proved to be the ideal spot. Jungkook set down the wicker basket that you assigned to him earlier, eagerly waiting for you to finally open it.

“On the menu today we have fruits as an appetizer, ham and cheese sandwiches in homemade croissants as the main course, and last but not least, chocolate buns for dessert,” you proudly showcased each item.

“I never knew bread could taste so heavenly until I went to your bakery. I’m happy I walked in,” Jungkook praised as he wolfed down his sandwich.

“It’s not my bakery, it’s my parents’ bakery,” you corrected him as you ate the fruit.

“Don’t you work in it nearly every day? I don’t see how it’s not your bakery too,” Jungkook insisted.

“I’m not the one running the business,” you argued.

“You seem to put in the same amount as work as them. Instead of baking, you’re handling all of the customers. That’s gotta count for something, right?” Jungkook persisted.

“Fine, I guess you could say it’s a family bakery. Happy?” you huffed, clearly annoyed.

“Hey, I wasn’t trying to make you angry. I’m sorry if I overstepped,” Jungkook apologized, putting his sandwich down, “I wanted to let you know how much I love your family’s bread, that’s all.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s just…” your trailed off as you gazed at the blue sky.

“I don’t want to pry, but I’m happy to sit here and listen,” Jungkook offered.

“I don’t want to scare you away by dumping my personal issues on you,” you tried to lighten the mood.

“I don’t think you could do that, ____,” Jungkook assured you.

Your eyes widened ever so slightly since he caught you off guard with his sincerity, but soon you gave him a soft smile.

“Fine, since we’re just sitting here anyway,” you caved as you picked up your sandwich, “I wish I wasn’t here anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents and I love the bakery. I just wish I got to go to a big city somewhere and attend a real university. I don’t know what I’d study, I just know that I thought my life would be different by now,” you turn away from him to hide your watery eyes.

“It’s not all that great,” Jungkook responded after a short pause, “I came from a small town too. The only difference was that it was along a beach, not by a forest. Wait, the location doesn’t matter,” he quietly scolded himself, “What I’m trying to say is that I did get away from my hometown. I was so excited to finally be a city kid. I didn’t realize how overwhelming it would be. Now look at me. I’m a senior in college with no direction in life. That’s what I get for choosing a career with no job security,” he chuckled as he looked down at the camera around his neck.

“But are you doing what you love?” you quietly asked.

“I think so. Are you?” he asked back.

“I think so,” you sighed, finally turning to look at him.

“I could always take you back to the city with me,” Jungkook flashed you a big bunny smile.

“Don’t joke with me like that. I hate getting my hopes up,” you playfully punch him in the arm.

“I’m not joking!” he yelped in surprise.

The conversation turned into a more cheerful one. You both spoke about your dreams, both childhood and present day. It was fun talking with Jungkook as you both watched the clouds roll by without a care in the world.

“Maybe you could get some pretty shots of some wildlife while we’re out here,” you recommended when the conversation came to a pause.

“Do you want to model for me?” Jungkook asked.

“Huh?” his sudden proposal surprised you.

“It’s completely okay if you don’t want to! Actually, just forget I said anything,” Jungkook looked down at the camera in his hands in a futile attempt to hide his flushed cheeks.

“Just tell me how to pose,” you smiled, already getting up.

“Uh, just act natural,” he said awkwardly as you leaned against the thick tree trunk.

At first, you made some silly poses that made Jungkook laugh. To be honest, you only did that because you really didn’t know how to pose next to the tree while making it look natural. Forcing a smile, you attempted to lean on the tree like as if it were another person.

“You don’t have to fake a smile,” Jungkook called from behind the camera.

“I don’t know what to do!” you called back.

“Act natural!”

“How do I do that?”

“Naturally!”

His response rewarded him a sarcastic eye roll, followed by a burst of laughter. Jungkook furiously clicked his camera as you laughed even harder. He praised you for ‘being in your natural state’ as he took shots from ridiculous angles. He gave you a thumbs up after he was satisfied with the impromptu photoshoot.

“Is laughing until I can’t breathe just me being in my natural state?” you asked playfully as you sat back down on the picnic blanket.

“It was authentic, so I would say so. I wish I could capture sound too, your laugh is so cute,” Jungkook said nonchalantly as he scrolled through the photos.

His eyes widened as soon as he realized what he said. He opened his mouth to try and take it back, or at least cover it up. He looked over at you shyly, only to see that you were digging out dessert from the basket. He let out a sigh of relief. Thankfully, you didn’t hear him.

“How were the pictures?” you asked, scooting to sit beside him after handing him the dessert.

“See for yourself,” he proudly showed you.

You were amazed by his talent. Even without editing, the photos looked like they were ready to be submitted into a contest. Everything looked so perfect. Your smile was genuine, the lighting was optimal, and your hair looked surprisingly good. You applauded him for his talent, to which he bashfully denied by saying he was still such an amatuer. You both finally dug into the desserts.

“These chocolate buns were amazing,” Jungkook licked his lips after he finished it.

“They’re my personal favorite! They’re also the best things that I can make on my own,” you winked at him as you finished yours.

“You made these?” Jungkook’s doe eyes filled with awe.

“Yep! Don’t act so surprised,” you pouted.

“Sorry, it’s just that you told me your parents bake everything. These were really good! Probably the best things I’ve had since--oh wait. You have a little something,” Jungkook leaned forward to wipe the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

You both froze for a second, in shock of this intimate gesture. Jungkook’s mouth opened to apologize, but you stopped him before he had the chance. Without thinking about it, you put your mouth around his thumb. You sucked on it for a second before you snapped back to reality. You started apologizing profusely the instant his thumb left your mouth.

“It’s okay! I shouldn’t have touched you in the first place,” Jungkook shied away from you, refusing to look you in the eyes.

“I don’t know what came over me,” you apologized as you grabbed his hand.

Jungkook looked at you with an embarrassed expression the moment you held his hand in yours. At first you didn’t realize why he was so embarrassed, you were the one sucking his thumb. But then, you noticed Jungkook sheepishly resting his other hand in his lap.

“Jungkook,” you said sweetly.

“Yes?” he answered, his eyes averting yours once more.

“Do you want me to do it again?”

“Huh?” he looked back at you with disbelief.

You made a bold move as you moved to straddle his lap, each leg settling beside his waist. You brought his hand up to your mouth and batted your eyes innocently.

“Like this,” you say before licking his pointer finger.

Jungkook gulped while slowly nodding his head, giving you permission to continue. His eyes stayed glued on you as you wrapped your lips around his finger. You dragged your flattened out tongue from the base to the tip. You then reversed this motion, but instead only using the tip of your tongue. You began to work on his middle finger as well. It was hard to fit his long fingers in your mouth, but you’re no quitter. Your tongue weaved between his fingers, adequately coating them with your saliva.

Jungkook’s breaths quickened the longer you went on. You felt a bulge grow between your thighs as you straddled him. Perhaps wearing a dress was a great idea after all. Your hips began to move on their own as you slowly grinded on Jungkook.

“____…” Jungkook moaned quietly when you daringly took three fingers into your mouth.

Rubbing your clothed pussy against his hard crotch spurred you on even more. Drool was dribbling down Jungkook’s arm and your chin, but neither of you cared. It just made you look more erotic to him. His other hand was on your hip to help you maintain a rhythm. You opened your eyes to make contact with his as you suckled his fingers. That’s all it took to make him come undone.

He quickly pushed you off of him as he cried out. You were both too shocked to say anything for a few seconds. Jungkook seemed too embarrassed to look you in the eyes again, his cheeks bright red.

“Jungkook, I--” you started to apologize.

“You probably think I’m pretty lame huh? Cumming in my pants like some sort of middle schooler,” he looked down in defeat.

“What? No, of course not!” you disagreed.

“Don’t lie,” Jungkook refused to believe you.

“Jungkook, that was honestly the hottest thing I’ve ever done. What we just did was hotter than when I was actually having sex,” you tried to cheer him up.

“You’re not lying?” Jungkook finally looked up at you with sad puppy dog eyes.

“I swear I’m not. I could help you clean it up, if you’d like,” you offered.

“I think that would make me feel worse. Just hand me some napkins and I’ll go take care of it myself,” he declined.

You packed everything up while you waited for Jungkook to return. He discreetly threw away the ball of used napkins into the designated trash bag, praying to god that you weren’t looking.

The walk back was quiet and awkward. Neither of you knew what to say. You were horrified with how you acted; you’ve never been so bold before. Jungkook was ashamed of cumming before he had the chance to do anything to you. He felt so pathetic.

“I’m sorry for making you so uncomfortable, Jungkook,” you finally apologized.

“Are you kidding? You think I would cum that fast if I was uncomfortable?” Jungkook looked at you with incredulity, “I’m the one who should be sorry. I’m disgusting and came in my pants while you did all the hard work.”

“You’re not disgusting at all, Jungkook. I enjoyed it too. I can’t remember the last time I was that horny,” you laughed.

All the tension in the air had disappeared. Jungkook bounced back to being his cheery self. The conversation went back to normal as you brought him back to the bakery. You hugged him goodbye and were about to leave when he caught your hand.

“Thank you so much for the tour. I know we’ve only known each other for a day but... would you like to go on a date with me?” Jungkook asked with a hopeful look in his eyes.

“No,” you said firmly, watching his shoulders fall, “I’d love to go on a date with you,” you smirked.

“You jerk!” Jungkook gasped.

You couldn’t help it, he was too easy to tease. After working out the details, it was decided that he would come pick you up on Friday night.

Jungkook took you to basically the only restaurant in town (that wasn’t the cafe). It was a family run Italian eatery, and it took Jungkook by surprise.

“Is everyone in this place a master chef or something? This is delicious!” he praised as he ate his pasta.

“I guess it’s the authenticity of family recipes? You probably eat at more chain restaurants while you’re in the city,” you shrugged as you twirled noodles around your fork.

The date went on pleasantly. Jungkook wanted to know as much about you as you did him. The conversations you had were lively and fun; there was never a dull moment with him. Something about him just automatically clicked with you.

“What’s your favorite thing to photograph?” you asked.

“I like taking pictures of landscapes and buildings. That’s why I was super excited about going to a university in the city. It’s a lot easier than taking pictures of people! Unfortunately, that’s where the money is right now,” he explained.

“You don’t like taking pictures of people?”

“Not really, no,” he answered bluntly.

“Then why did you ask me to model for you?” you were genuinely curious.

Jungkook froze in his seat. He took a long sip of his drink before answering you.

“For practice, I suppose,” he said softly.

“I’m happy I was able to help then,” you smiled, thinking nothing of it.

Jungkook seemed grateful that you didn’t press for more details, and was soon coaxed out of his shy shell once the topic of anime came around. You were happy that he took you out on a proper date, you hadn’t been on one in so long.

He walked you back under the pale moonlight. You were admiring the twinkling stars when you realized that Jungkook hadn’t said anything in a while. His hand awkwardly brushed against yours when you first left the restaurant, but you didn’t think much of it. Jungkook seemed to be thinking hard about something as he walked alongside you. You were going to say something when the back of his hand brushed against yours again. He instantly pulled away and uttered a small “sorry”.

“What’s wrong, Jungkook?” you were worried now, you thought the date went well.

“Nothing…,” his voice trailed off as he looked away.

You interlocked his pinky with yours without a word. Jungkook looked over at you with surprise, but said nothing. He admonished himself for not committing to hold your hand, but he was happy with this too. In fact, he thought it was cuter than actual hand holding.

You arrived in front of your house. Bidding Jungkook goodnight, you went in for a hug. Jungkook also went in for a hug, but he leaned the same way you did. In a quick bumble, your lips grazed the corner of Jungkook’s, causing you to jump back. You stood in Jungkook’s arms, looking away in embarrassment. He brought up one of his hands to cup your cheek, forcing you to look back at him. His eyes sparkled under the moonlight as he gazed into yours.

Slowly, you found yourself leaning forward. Jungkook met you in the middle, his lips finding yours. It was a tender kiss, sweet and soft. You broke it off after a couple seconds to giggle, but Jungkook pulled you back into it. He kissed you gently, yet with so much passion. You reciprocated his affection as your fingers intertwined with his hair, deepening the kiss.

He finally pulled away, smiling back at you. To be honest, you wish it lasted longer. However, you knew you would have had a hard time controlling yourself if it did.

“Thank you for dinner,” you thanked him with a soft voice.

“Of course, thank you for accompanying me,” he bowed like a gentleman and kissed your hand. You couldn’t help but laugh at his gesture.

“Too much?” he tilted his head.

“Don’t change a thing,” you continued to laugh.

All sorts of thoughts about Jungkook swam in your mind as you fell asleep that night.

Jungkook soon began to hangout with you every day. When he wasn’t out trying to take pictures, he would be in the bakery keeping you company. Your parents teased him, saying that he better buy something or else they’d kick him out, but they never did. In fact, your mom would always sneak him some freshly baked goods.

After work, you and Jungkook would spend even more time together. It didn’t matter if you guys were exploring nature, cooling off in the stream, or just watching movies; you enjoyed it all. It was nice having someone to talk to for a change. Jungkook never asked to make plans with you, he just assumed you guys would hangout the next day when he said “see ya tomorrow!”

You knew you had a crush on Jungkook, but you didn’t know how he felt. Yes, he took you on a date. Yes, you’ve kissed. Yes, you made in cum in his pants (not necessarily in that order). You were waiting on him to ask you to be his girlfriend. You didn’t want to pressure him, especially when you knew that he’d be going back to school in the fall.

One day, much to your chagrin, Jungkook was helping you with inventory. You argued that he shouldn’t work since he wasn’t getting paid, but he smiled and replied that spending time with you was all the payment he needed. You were too flustered to argue after that.

“Great, everything has been accounted for! Can you help me put this box back up there?” you asked him, nodding your head at a particularly high shelf that was out of your reach. You grabbed a step stool for him to make it easier.

Jungkook lifted up the heavy box of supplies with ease, and placed it back on the shelf. He looked down at you and smiled.

“What?” you cocked your head.

He said nothing as he leaned down and kissed your forehead, “You just look cute from up here.”

You looked away as you blushed, not knowing what to say. Jungkook laughed as he got down from the step stool. He teased you about it for the rest of the day.

Days flew by as it was getting closer and closer to Jungkook’s departure. You let Jungkook decide on what to do during his last day there. He picked you up at the bakery after your shift. He wanted to take one last stroll with you around town before he had to leave. You were about to hug him goodbye when he invited you over, saying that he had a box of popcorn he needed help finishing.

After watching a couple movies, Jungkook had his arms around you as you rested your head on his shoulder. Cuddling had become a norm between you two. Jungkook suddenly nudged your side, causing you to shriek.

“Sorry, just making sure you were still awake,” he giggled.

“I was, but now I definitely am,” you said as you returned the favor and tickled his sides.

It soon became a war of tickling as laughter erupted from both of you. Jungkook was just as ticklish as you were, making it a deadly battle. Before you knew it, you were straddling Jungkook, gripping both of his wrists in your hands. You both stared at each other as the laughter subsided, now replaced with heavy breathing.

“You could easily knock me over, you know,” you said as you lowered your nose to his.

“What if I don’t want to?” he whispered back.

He moved his head upwards to kiss you, catching you by surprise. You kissed him back, pushing him back down. You lowered your hips to rest on his hardened crotch. You let go of his wrists to help him take off his shirt before removing your own.

Once your lips connected again, Jungkook’s hands moved freely over your body, gently caressing your breasts. He treated you so tenderly, it made you even hornier. Your hands reached down to unzip his pants.

“Is this okay?” you paused to ask.

“Only if you take off your pants too,” he answered with a smirk.

Soon enough you were both down to just your underwear. You palmed Jungkook’s erection, curious to see it. It already felt huge in comparison to your hands.

“I want to fuck you, _____,” Jungkook groaned as you kissed his neck.

“I’m glad we want the same thing. Where do you want me?” you cooed.

“Like this is fine,” he quickly answered.

He helped you take off his underwear, revealing his massive dick. Your pussy clenched at the sight of it. You wriggled out of your panties and positioned yourself on top of him.

“Ready?” you asked.

Jungkook just nodded, his eyes wide with anticipation. He gulped as he watched you slowly lower yourself onto him, taking in each inch slowly. You moaned as he went deeper and deeper in you. You hadn’t had sex in a long time (and admittedly it wasn’t very good). Now, you were sopping wet and Jungkook was filling you up perfectly. Once you reached the base of his dick, you took your time going back up.

From the look on Jungkook’s face, he was in pure bliss. You continued to tease him as you fucked him slowly. You transitioned from taking his entire length to just swiveling around his tip, making him moan from the overstimulation. Jungkook dug his nails into your lower back, begging you to take all of him in again.

You leaned back over and peppered kisses along his chest and up his neck. Jungkook whimpered at the sensation, his breathing grew uneven. You giggled at him as you suckled on his neck, leaving wet kisses in your wake. Once you had enough of teasing him, you slammed back down onto him, and both your moans filled the room. Your hips began to move faster as you bounced on top of him. Jungkook’s grip on you tightened.

“I--I’m gonna cum,” he panicked.

You immediately hopped off, hoping to edge him. He whimpered at the loss of your warm pussy, but your plan seemed to work. His eyes begged you to get back on top.

“Now it’s your turn to fuck me,” you demanded as you laid down on your back.

Jungkook complied and positioned himself between your legs. He bent over to kiss you while he pushed his cock back inside of you. He took his time at first, but then tried to pick up the pace. His movements were awkward and stiff, and his pelvis hit your hips in a way that you knew they were going to bruise later.

“Jungkook, just relax,” you commanded.

Jungkook steadied his breathing and took your advice. He was finally able to find a rhythm and stuck to it. Luckily, it was the perfect rhythm for you as he continuously grazed your g-spot. Jungkook moaned with every stroke as your warm insides squeezed around him. You wrapped your legs around him, bringing him even closer. You looked up at him to see that the usual sweet star filled doe eyes of his had switched to a version of pure ecstasy as he gazed down at you with blown out pupils. The change was a little jarring, but also incredibly sexy when you realized the potential duality Jungkook could have. You pulled him into a deep kiss, tongues exploring foreign regions as he pounded into you.

“I’m gonna--,” his breath hitched.

“Cum on me baby,” you panted as you furiously rubbed your clit, desperate to cum with him.

With perfect timing, Jungkook got to feel you cum around him for a few seconds before he had to pull out and finish all over your chest. He gave you a quick peck on the cheek before scurrying off to find something to clean you with.

He rested his head on your chest as you held him close. You were falling asleep when he said something.

“Sorry, what did you say?” you asked him since you barely heard him.

“I am, well I guess was, a virgin,” Jungkook admitted.

“Oh,” you tried to mask your surprise.

“I didn’t wanna say anything. I mean, how lame is it that I’m a college senior and have never gotten laid. You’re probably surprised huh? I’m not lying, I swear.”

“I am surprised, but only because you seem like ladies would be all over you. You’re so handsome, funny, charming--”

“Yes yes keep going,” Jungkook joked.

“--and a genuinely good guy. Plus I feel like being a photographer would help you meet a lot of pretty girls,” you reasoned.

“While all of that is true, the real reason is pretty embarrassing. I’m...I’ve always been kinda scared of girls,” Jungkook sighed as you tried to suppress your laughter, “I’m not kidding! I always get so nervous around girls, I could never actually talk to them.”

“So am I not a girl in your eyes?” you teased.

“You’re a woman,” he answered cockily.

“Shut up! I hope your first time was enjoyable. Thanks for entrusting me with your v card,” you laughed.

You both continued joking and laughing the night away until you fell asleep in each other’s arms. While that night was enjoyable, it made Jungkook’s absence hurt more.

Life had sunk back into the same mundane routines once Jungkook left. Of course, he still kept in touch. He would text and video call you as often as he could. He’d send you pictures of his newest shooting locations, and you’d always be the first person he’d show his finished products.

You loved witnessing Jungkook’s passion grow, he had a new spark in him that wasn’t there before. With your encouragement as an extra shove, he applied to his dream job. He explained to you that it was with an agency that would send him to a random country where he’d work with a participating magazine company. You secretly envied him for even having the possibility of exploring the world.

Days and weeks started to blend together. Your parents insisted on having you help out more in the kitchen, presumably to get your mind off of Jungkook.

It was a weird fling you had with him. However, it also didn’t seem like a fling. Most flings didn’t still keep in touch in a long distance “friendship”, or whatever it was you had. You were never officially dating, but it sure as hell felt that way. You cursed yourself for waiting for him to ask, you should’ve just done it yourself. Of course, part of you felt like you’d just hold him back if you guys actually ended up dating.

These thoughts constantly swarmed your mind. Ironically, the only time you weren’t thinking about your dilemma was when you were chatting with Jungkook. The end of the semester was quickly approaching, and you could tell that he was getting antsy. He hadn’t gotten offers from anywhere that he applied. You could do nothing but give him hope but assuring him that someone somewhere will hire him.

You watched snow fall outside when you got a call.

“I GOT IN!!!” Jungkook exclaimed.

“What?! Where?!” you jumped up in excitement.

“My top choice! The one where they send me to another country! Guess where I’m going,” he sing songed.

“Umm… Italy?”

“Close! I’m going to España,” he said with a spanish accent.

“That’s amazing, Jungkook. I’m so proud of you! I knew you could do it. When do you leave?” you asked.

“In a week. God, I’m so excited! Oh, my parents are calling. I’ll talk to you later?”

“Of course. Congrats again,” you cheered before he hung up.

Before you knew it, you were crying. You were honestly happy for Jungkook, but reality hit you. You were never going to be able to tell him that you loved him. You were never going to be with him, not while you’re stuck in this town. It sucked, but you had no choice but to accept that.

Two days had passed since that phone call. Jungkook was probably busy packing and working out minor details, so you stayed out of his way. You figured things would probably be like this from now on. Why would he bother talking to a small town girl while he’s out exploring the world?

You were restocking the milk puddings rolls when the front bell chimed.

“I’ll be with you in a second,” you called out.

“No worries, I’ll wait all day if I have to,” a familiar voice responded.

You dropped the rolls as you turned around with lightning fast speed. Jungkook stood at the doorway, beaming a big bunny smile at you. You ran to him, embracing him in a tight hug. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead.

“Surprise,” he smiled.

“What are you doing here?” you asked as you wiped tears from your eyes.

“I needed to see you. I was planning on coming back and surprising you even before I left. You didn’t think I’d leave without saying goodbye, did you?” he ruffled your hair, “Oh, and those tiger flowers are beautiful,” he nodded over to the flower bouquet on the checkout counter.

“I got them because they reminded me of you,” you blushed, your ears turning red.

“Did I hear Jungkook?” you mom poked her head out of the kitchen, “Oh my goodness! Honey look! Jungkook is back!” she called your dad.

Your parents came out to greet him. He explained everything to them, and they congratulated him.

“How long will you be here? Aren’t you leaving soon?” your dad inquired.

“I leave tomorrow night. I wish I could stay longer,” Jungkook answered solemnly.

“____ suddenly doesn’t have to work until after you’ve left,” your mom smiled fondly at you.

Your eyes lit up as you kissed your parents on the cheek to thank them. After grabbing your jacket, you took Jungkook’s hand and dragged him out. You both aimlessly walked around the town as you chatted. He went more in depth with the details of his job. He was most excited about capturing photos of the city. After looking up some pictures of the architecture, he immediately fell in love with Madrid.

Jungkook invited you over to watch some of the short films he worked on over the past semester. While they were just videos of his friends with no plot, you could feel their friendship seeping through the screen. The way Jungkook played with music and colors really enhanced the already well shot video. You felt at peace sitting beside Jungkook on his bed as he showed you all his past projects. Part of you wished that this moment would never end.

“You’ve made me a better person, you know,” Jungkook said out of nowhere, “I’m more talkative around my friends, and I’ve gotten more comfortable with being myself.”

“I didn’t do anything, that’s all you,” you smiled as you poked his chest.

“You definitely helped,” he ran his fingers through your hair, “I love you, ____.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“I love you too. I thought I’d never get to say that,” you said with a sigh of relief.

He looked into your eyes before leaning forward slowly. You’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, you practically pounced on him. You kissed him passionately, as if to show him how much you missed him. Clothes were thrown in every direction leading to bare skin being exposed.

Jungkook’s soft hands roamed across your body as if he were trying to memorize your every curve. His touch was a bit rougher than the last time, his lips crashed against yours as he pinched your nipples. You couldn’t tell if it was desperation, carnal lust, or just a new side of Jungkook, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. His erection pressed against your thigh as your hands tangled themselves in his dark hair. You reached down to grab his cock, gripping from the base and slowly dragging your hand to the tip and then back down. He shuddered at the sensation, moaning into your mouth.

“Should I get on top?” you batted your eyes.

“Nope, I have a better idea,” Jungkook growled as he flipped you over onto your knees, “Can I fuck you like this?”

“Fuck me however you want,” you answered gleefully.

Jungkook rammed into you without hesitation. He firmly gripped your hips to keep you in place as he thrusted into you. His dick sent waves of ecstasy as he crashed into you. He surprised you when he reached his hand around you to play with your clit, causing you to squirm under him.

“Be a good girl and stay still,” he ordered.

His newfound dominance turned you on. He was no longer the baby boy that followed your every move, although you were sure that side of him was still there somewhere. You got lost in pleasure and didn’t realize how far gone you were till you felt liquid dripping down your inner thighs.

“You’re so fucking wet baby. All this for me?” Jungkook panted as he continued snapping his hips into you.

“Mhm, of course. Only for you,” you managed to moan out between thrusts.

“That’s my good girl. Get up,” he demanded as he hopped off the bed.

You obeyed, curious as to what he was going to do. As soon as you got off the bed, he spun you around and pushed your chest back over the covers. He slipped back into you with ease, groaning as your slick juices coated his cock. This new position enabled Jungkook to directly hit your g-spot with each thrust. Again, his hand wrapped around your waist to find your clit. His other hand found purchase on your neck, slightly choking you. The overstimulation had you crying out in bliss that you had never experienced before.

You were practically gushing now as your wetness ran down your legs and sprayed onto Jungkook’s thighs with each strong impact. Jungkook lifted up one of your legs onto the bed, spreading your pussy.

“Now touch yourself for me,” Jungkook directed.

He didn’t have to tell you twice. Your legs started to shake as you played with your clit at the perfect pace while Jungkook drilled into you. You were sure that you had already came numerous times by this point, but you could feel the grand finale soon approaching.

“Jungkook I--” you didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence as you climaxed onto his dick. He was infatuated with the way you looked from behind, and he couldn’t get enough of it. He pushed you back onto the bed with your legs still hanging from the edge. He reinserted himself while you laid there, completely delusional from the pounding you had been receiving.

“You’re such a sexy woman,” he moaned as he anchored the weight of his arms onto your shoulders.

He continued his torment downwards. Your bountiful cheeks bounced back and forth while he repeatedly rammed into your g-spot causing you to release more of the juices his massive cock craved.

He slowed his pace but still kept going to help you ride out your high for as long as possible. The sensation of you cumming on him was enough to bring him right to the brink of no return.

“Can I cum on you?” he pleaded in a tone all too familiar to you.

“Please do,” you nodded.

“God, you’re so sexy,” he said as he gave you a couple more hard thrusts before pulling out and coating your ass with white strings.

Jungkook held you in his arms after wiping you down with a towel, both of your chests heaving in sync. You both managed to work up a sweat, but Jungkook still smelled amazing. He played with your hair as your eyelids started to get heavy.

“_____,” he whispered softly.

“Yes, Jungkook?” you replied with your eyes still closed.

“Come with me.”

“What?” your eyes shot open.

“Come with me to Spain. I know it sounds crazy, but I don’t care. You’ll finally get the adventure you’ve always wanted, and we’ll do it together,” he kissed your forehead.

His unexpected proposition had you overwhelmed. You were speechless. You would go with him in a heartbeat. It wouldn’t matter where you’d go, as long as you were with him.

“Jungkook...you know I can’t do that,” you fought back tears, nuzzling yourself further into his chest.

“I wanted to ask your parents as soon as I arrived but you rushed me out too quickly and--”

“I can’t leave them, you know that,” silent tears rolled down your cheeks.

“I think they’d understand. Plus, you’ve said that they’ve tried to convince you to go to college,” Jungkook was getting desperate, he thought you’d agree on the spot.

“They need my help now more than ever. My parents are getting old. As much as I want to leave this place, I can’t. I’m going to be stuck here forever. I’m so sorry, Jungkook,” you wept.

“It’s okay, ___. We can ask them tomorrow, how does that sound?” he rubbed your back.

“No, I can’t do that to them. You know they’ll say yes. I have to stay,” you sniffled.

“You’re a great daughter. I can’t force you to come with me. I’ll miss you. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone,” Jungkook’s voice started to falter.

“Don’t worry about me. Go live out your life. Eat great food. Take beautiful pictures. Meet pretty girls,” you tried to lighten the mood.

“You think I want to meet pretty girls? Why would I do that when I have you,” he hugged you tightly.

“We aren’t even dating, Jungkook. I don’t want to hinder you more than I already have,” you blurted.

“I...I know we aren’t dating. Not officially. But that’s just a stupid label. I want to be with you,” Jungkook’s voice softened to hide his pain.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” you said as you got up.

Jungkook immediately pulled you back into him. Your nose brushed against his wet cheek, causing you to freeze up when you realized that he had also been crying.

“Please stay with me. At least just for tonight,” he pleaded.

“Alright. I can do that,” you softly kiss him.

You woke up the next morning with your head on Jungkook’s chest. Jungkook looked adorable while he was asleep, with his mouth agape and his hair falling messily over his forehead. You tried to inch away, but he just pulled you closer, making it impossible to escape.

He woke up with a yawn a couple minutes later. He smiled down at you before ruffling your hair.

“Jungkook, I’m sorry about last night. I--”

“Let’s not talk about it. This is my last day with you for god knows how long. Let’s just enjoy ourselves, okay?” he interrupted you.

It had been three years since that spring when you met Jungkook. You sometimes reminisce about the times you had with Jeon Jungkook. It honestly felt like a dream. Communication with him slowly faded away, and now the only conversations you had with him were one message long during birthdays and holidays. You kept up with him more through Instagram. He regularly uploaded his beautiful pictures, and you could tell that his talent only grew. He had a knack for making dull buildings and streets come to life.

Your parents planned to retire soon, leaving you to tend to the bakery by yourself. They mainly managed the front-of-house work during the busy hours now. Their goal was to finally sell the bakery, but you protested against it. As much as you wanted to be rid of the chains that tied you down, you were scared. You didn’t know what you would do if the bakery was suddenly gone. It was all you’ve ever known.

Ever since your parents announced their retirement plans, you started to dabble in pastry making. They were impressed with your skills, and your creations got added to the menu. Word spread that the already famous bakery was now carrying delicious pastries, and business soared.

You were busy decorating your latest desserts when your mother came into the kitchen.

“Your father and I have to go run a quick errand, we’ll be back soon!” she said before giving you time to protest. You grumbled to yourself as you placed strawberries on your cakes, praying that no one would come in.

“Hello? Anyone here? The sign says open,” someone called from the front.

‘God dammit’, you thought before putting on a fake customer service smile.

“Welcome to--” you stopped in your tracks.

Jungkook was standing in the middle of your bakery, looking even more handsome than you had remembered him. His face lit up as soon as he saw you. You couldn’t help yourself as you ran towards him, colliding into him with a forceful hug.

“I hear you sell desserts now,” he grinned.

“Jungkook! What are you doing here? Your hair, it’s so long! And...do you have tattoos now?!” you were in shock.

“Do I look more artsy now?” he laughed, “I came to see you. I wanted to try your desserts too, of course. No one would believe me when I said nothing can compare to your family’s bakery. Oh, I have a present for you.”

You became giddy with excitement as Jungkook brought out a brown paper bag and handed it to you. You pulled out prints of a beautiful girl standing in a forest. Wait...it looked familiar…

“Is this me?” you asked as your mouth hung open.

“Yeah, these are the pictures from when you took me on that picnic. Would you believe me if I said I barely had to touch anything up? They were already nearly perfect,” Jungkook said proudly.

“It’s because you’re a talented photographer,” you smiled.

“That, and because I had the perfect model. How could I not ask the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen to model for me?” he said as he tucked your hair behind your ear.

“So I wasn’t just practice?” you recalled asking him about it all those years ago.

“I was so nervous back then, I couldn’t bring myself to tell you the truth,” he laughed, “I’m much more open now.”

You promptly switched the ‘OPEN’ sign to ‘CLOSED’ and sat Jungkook down. You brought out one of your fresh strawberry cakes, eager to hear his opinion. His face contorted with pleasure as he took the first bite. He complimented the flavors and textures, saying that everything tasted like perfect harmony. You laughed together as he shared stories of his time abroad. He intently listened while you opened up about the struggles of the bakery.

“Anyway, that’s enough complaining for now. I’m happy you’re back! How long are you staying for this time?” you tilted your head.

“Depends,” Jungkook answered as he gazed out the window. He looked back at you with a serious expression. He quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you close, bringing your face just inches away from his.

“Do you still want to explore the world?” he asked.

“Of course, that’ll never change. But...you know I can’t,” you answered somberly.

“After everything you just told me, you still think you have to stay here?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow, “My next gig is going to be in France. Come with me this time, _____.”

You stared at him with a stunned expression. You thought he had forgotten about you. Now here he is, asking you to run away with him again.

“Why did you lose touch? I thought you had moved on. I made peace with that. God, it hurt like hell, but I came to terms with it. And now we’re doing this again,” your voice cracked as tears welled in your eyes.

“Honestly, it hurt me too much. I couldn’t bear talking to you every day or video chatting you, without knowing when I’d see you next. I never stopped thinking about you. I tried. I tried to forget...but no one could ever come close to you,” Jungkook cupped your cheek in his palm, “There’s a really good patissiere academy close to where I’ll be working. You could go there and sharpen your skills! Then maybe one day open up a bakery of your own...if you wanted.”

“But what about my parents--”

“Stop using us as an excuse to hold yourself back,” your mom scolded you as she entered the bakery.

“Did you like your surprise?” your dad winked.

“You knew?” you were bewildered.

“Jungkook contacted us a while back, asking if we thought his plan could ever be a possibility. I figured you were still head over heels for him since you never dated anyone else,” your mom shrugged.

“If you want to go, go. Don’t worry about us. We can sell the bakery, and finally retire,” your dad said.

“You have your parents’ blessing, ____. This decision is entirely up to you. What’s it gonna be? Will you come with me to France?” Jungkook asked again.

“I..,” you looked at your parents before your eyes wandered back to Jungkook, “Yes. I’d love to,” tears of joy rolled down your cheeks.

Jungkook got up and embraced you in a tight hug before he whispered, “I’ve missed you so much,” in your ear.

“Well, we better start packing,” Jungkook turned to your parents.

“Packing? Already?” your eyes widened.

“We leave by the end of the week!” Jungkook gleefully took your hand and dashed out of the store.

Jungkook dragged you through the town up to your house. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched his long hair bounce around while you ran. You could’ve sworn that sometimes they looked like bunny ears.

He was definitely Jungkook, but he seemed like the upgraded version of the shy boy you once knew. He had a new confident aura around him, and he seemed more manly than boyish now. Everything was happening so quickly, but you were nothing but excited for the adventures to come.

As long as Jungkook was by your side, you were ready to take on the world.

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mha-platonic-yanderes · 3 years

Text

Settling In: Parentals

Inspired by @i-cant-sing and their Yandere Todoroki Clan AU

The room is pink. Well, it’s mostly pink. It’s pink with white furniture and embellishments. The closet doors are white and so is the windowsill. The floor is hardwood brown. But everything else is a bubblegum pink.

You’d prefer another color, one that wasn’t so bright and grating to the eyes. But you don’t say that. You just fiddle with your one dufflebag’s handle. This is all you have left, after bouncing around from group home to group home. A year ago—when your parents died—you had thrice as much. Now this and the backpack for schoolwork is all you have left.

“Do you like it?” The mother of this house and wife to the current number one hero, asks you a question. He’s not here; nobody’s here except you two. The house seems too big for three people, but there are pictures on the wall of others. It doesn’t look lived in; there is no semblance of a family. Though, the pictures on the wall show a six person family. It shows that there are four more people here and you get your own room. In a house with now seven people, you get your own room and you aren’t giving it up.

Despite the pink color and the vast emptiness, you answer honestly, “Yeah, I do.” You do like it, even if it's not for the right reasons

Her hands are on your shoulder. You can feel the increased pressure on one side lift up, almost as if she’d been purposefully holding onto you too tight.

“Good. Now, let’s unpack.” She gracefully takes the bag out of your hand, setting it atop the bed. You sit down alongside it, opening your backpack. A couple of notebooks, pencils, and two textbooks sit inside.

You start to stand, heading to take the materials to the desk they’ve provided. Though, whilst holding a pair of pajamas—slightly too little but in [y/f/c]—she takes the books out of your hand.

“Just relax, [Y/N].” Rei replies, “Let me handle it.”

You sit on the bed twiddling with your blouse’s edge. You wore your best outfit, even though it was just your school uniform, without the frumpy sweater.

The bed is insanely soft. With satin sheets, a thick, fluffy comforter, and a healthy amount of pillows, it's easily the softest place you’ve been.

“I’ll have a driver return your school books back to your former school.” Rei replies, on the other side of the room. You shift to look at her, but she has her back turned to you. “I’ll discuss with my husband what school to place you at.”

“Alright.” You’ve had to transfer schools about three times since last year. Moving again isn’t a hassle anymore. You know not to hope you won’t move again. Though. you know not to get attached to anything in case you have to—in case this doesn’t work out.

“We’ll get you a better education than the one you were definitely receiving.” You can hear the gentle thump of one of your textbooks. She heads back to your duffle bag; it’s now half empty. “My eldest three all went to Somei Private Academy for junior high. Two ended up continuing through highschool as well. My eldest went to Shiketsu and my youngest is in Yuuei now.”

You know those schools. They’re expensive, private academies. You’ve only ever been in public schools. The wealth was obvious when you were picked up in a blackened car with a driver. You just didn’t expect them to spend that money on you, a lowly orphan.

“Or we’ll just hire a set of tutors like we did for our youngest before he went to Yuuei.” She decides what to hang up or fold. You’ll have to go through it all later to find everything. Luckily, you don’t own much—or unluckily, depends on how you look at it. But you don’t dwell on the issue long, responding quickly to the lady, “Alright.”

She smiles at you. It’s sincere, motherly. It’s what your mother would’ve done, before the accident. It’s something you sorely missed since then.

“You’re extremely agreeable, aren’t you?” She finishes out the bag, pressing it into the top of your closet. Your backpack gets sat beside the desk. This room is large and your things are set in its appropriate places across from it.

“I guess.”

“That’s a good thing, darling.” She goes to mess with your hair, “Now, for dinner tonight, let's change you into something a bit nicer, yes?”

You pause, looking at your toes in their pristine white socks. You can see her legs as well, considering how close she is to you, “This is the nicest thing I own.”

“That’s fine. We’ll just have to go shopping for some new things.” Rei replies, taking her other hand to your chin, forcing you to look her in the eyes, “Enji and I know what we are getting ourselves into, buying you a whole new wardrobe will be nothing.”

She takes her hands from your head and into your hands, helping you up.

“Where are we going?” She leads you back from your room to the rest of the house.

“Shopping, darling.” Rei replies, “We have five hours to do so, before I must start dinner, that is. Is there anything you want?”

“No, not really.” She’s already planning to drop a substantial amount of money on you and she’s already being incredibly maternal. You aren’t going to stretch that patience thin and have her snap already. You aren’t going to ruin this for yourself.

She smiles at you, “I’ll figure out what you like soon enough.”

===

The shopping mall standing in front of you was not where you usually would’ve gone. A basic department store, maybe a strip mall if you’re lucky would be where you usually shopped. This place however, is at least four stories high standing stark white and black against the almost colorless blue-grey sky. Though, you don’t get to admire it long. Rei quickly pulls you out of the cold outdoors and into the perfectly heated building.

“Now, I say we head to clothing stores first and then to more home goods type stores, so we don’t have to pack the heavy stuff around. Though, if we get too much to carry, we can send it back to the car and then continue shopping.” Rei replies, “Is that alright?”

You nod, still reluctantly going along this whole situation. The car is actually a limo and you have your own room in a massive estate. You have an impossibly nice and maternal caretaker who’s insanely rich. This is your “Annie” moment; this is your fairytale scenario. The shoe has to drop at some point. You aren’t going to be blindsided when it does.

“Good.” She locks arms with you, holding you close. It’s weird, but not entirely uncomfortable. You want to trust her. Your sense of judgement is clouded, knowing that she can’t really be this nice, but you want her to be like this

She leads you into a clothing store, taking you to the brightly colored section. Rei silently holds a peach colored sweater up to you. She grabs an orange skirt, looking at them both together.

“What do you think of this?” She asks, holding them up together. The sweater is thick,

assumedly warm. The skirt however, isn’t,. You tell her that.

“That’s what some white stockings are for [y/n].” She laughs lightly, “and please call me Rei. You don’t have to be so formal.”

“Alright... Rei.” Acclimating to her is easy. At the moment, you don’t care what the rest of her family is like, she’s nice and maternal and everything you miss from your own mother.

She grabs multiple sweater and skirt combinations, not grabbing a single pair of pants for you. This store doesn’t sell tee shirts or blouses, sticking to a younger, but put together catalog. You briefly entertain the idea of them being traditionalists, but you don’t mind that. You’ve lived in worse houses than one with conservative ideals.

And besides, the outfits are cute. You hope you can keep them if everything goes south.

“Put these on.” She hands you the clothing, “and I want to see every outfit you try on. I want to see if it looks good.”

The fitting rooms are nicer than any you’ve ever been to. When checking the price of the items she’s handed to you, you can see why. The least expensive thing is a 10,000 yen skirt. It’s plain blue, just like the 1,500 yen one you have on now. It's obviously of higher quality, but guilt pangs in your chest at the thought of her spending so much money on you. This is at least a dozen items in here.

You slip it on, alongside the white sweater, filled with gold stars. You look at yourself in the mirror, before heading out the door. Rei sits in a chair, looking at you.

“You look absolutely adorable.” Rei comments, “We’re keeping it.”

She doesn’t let you put your input in. But she’s paying for it, so you don’t complain.

Five more times, you come out in sweater and skirt combinations. She has nothing but praise for each outfit. It’s refreshing. Your last home was less than pleasant.

Rei leaves you to change back into your uniform. All six outfits are bought and placed into two bags, both on her arm away from you. She wraps her other arm into the crook of your arm.

“Onto the next store we go.”

As you all head to a different floor of the mall, you voice concerns you originally had back in the dressing room, “You know… you don’t have to spend so much money on me.” You tell her, then backtrack, “Not that I’m not grateful! I am really! It’s just that I don’t need stuff this fancy, you know?”

“[Y/N], I am your mother now. It’s my duty to get you clothes and stuff.” She says it with a certainty that is oddly comforting. Everything about her is that way, from her soft, smooth skin to her warm, grey eyes to her bright, white smile. She’s intensely maternal, something that you didn’t realize you wanted anymore, until today, “and we must keep you up to the Todoroki standard. After all, you’re going to be one of us for now on.”

Being one of them. You don’t know of any Todorokis; you’ve never been a huge fan of heroes like some of your peers. But belonging, that’s something you’ve craved since it was ripped away from you. A family—that’s what you’ve always wanted.

“All right.”

“Chin up, shoulders back.” She tells you, “You’re new life begins tonight.”

===

Rei never let you carry a single bag throughout your trip. She also wouldn’t let you see any of the receipts or let you have a final word on anything you got. But, you got all nice things—all things you like. So, you don’t mind.

“Change into the white dress with the red and pink roses.” She instructs, “And redo your hair. First impressions are important, after all.”

You haven’t met her husband, nor any of her children. But, as the pictures on the wall show, her husband is Endeavor, the number one hero. Usually you’d meet the person fostering you beforehand, but with his affluence, there needed to be no meetings beforehand.

Following her instructions, you rifle through the bags, finding the dress she wanted you to wear. Slipping out of your old clothes and into the cold, expensive dress is a quick process. Doing your hair to a standard that would make her proud, is not. Eventually you get it right.

Unlike earlier, you take the time to unbag your stuff. You mimic what Rei did in your closet. Shirts, sweaters and dresses are hung up. Skirts, leggings, and stockings are folded in the dresser. The shoes are placed on the inside of your closet. The few decorations you got are placed so that they don’t move what Rei and her husband already got you. She’s extremely peculiar about order. You won’t break that order.

“[Y/N].” She knocks on the door that doesn’t lock, “What’s taking you so long. Do you need help?”

You open the door for her, “I was just putting everything away, Rei.”

She comes in, looking at the room. She pulls the draws out and reopens the closet door, looking inside them. It’s an inspection, to see if everything is up to code.

Rei pinches your cheek, “ It’s perfect, exactly how I imagined it.”

Perfect. She’s praising your work. The word warms your heart, bringing a smile to your face. You haven’t gotten enough praise in your life, clearly.

“Thank you.”

“Now come on.” She tugs at your wrist, “Enji will be here any moment and I need help plating the table. Usually Fuyumi would do it, but you’ll meet my other children at a later date. Tonight is just about you, me, and Enji.”

“Alright.” Relief settles from your scrunched up soldiers. You only have to meet one new person, not five like you assumed. One person is better than five people—even if he is the #1 Hero.

You’re led back through the sitting room and into the dining room. It’s nice, well lit. It’s low to the ground and cushioned. You’ve expected this from this house. Every room besides your own is extremely traditional. You expected the whole house to be like this, once you walked through the doors.

“The plates and cups are in the left cabinet, do be careful with them.” Rei points to a side room, at the back of the dining room, “I’ll bring in the cutlery. Enji should be here soon.”

As if on cue, you hear the front door being opened. A low voice calls out, “Rei, darling? [Y/N]?”

You freeze, plates and cups in hand. Something about the number one hero calling out of your name unsettles you. Though, somehow immediately aware of your apprehension, Rei places a cold hand against your back. You can feel it through the dress, which isn’t surprising, considering how thin it is.

“We’re in the dining room, honey.” Rei takes the plates and cups from your hands, placing them down and simultaneously leading you to your seat. You sit, legs together and bent to the side. You sit currently in the seat to the left of the table’s end.

The number one hero—Rei’s husband—kisses her cheek. He towers over her. She was waiting for him at the entrance. You try not to make any noise; you try not to interrupt them.

She heads to the seat across from you, leaving Endeavor to sit at the head of the table. You aren’t surprised; this family gives of very traditional vibes. He radiates heat to your right, still aflame, showing off his powerful quirk.

The food is already on the table. It’s more than enough for the three people here, possibly more than enough for the six people in the photos—plus yourself. You make your own plate, only getting what you know you’ll eat. You don’t want to take too much, you don’t want to be greedy.

“Make sure you actually get full, [Y/N].” Rei smiles at you. It’s warm and soft.

“I am, Miss.” You can feel Endeavor staring at you, but you don’t look at him. You shift your head down, looking at the plate in front of you. You don’t grab more; you don’t want to ruin their hospitality with your selfishness.

Rei and Endeavor talk to themselves, mostly about work. They occasionally talk about three other people—Shoto, Fuyumi, and Natsuo. There are four children in the photos on the wall; it’s a family of six. Though, you don’t ask about the unnamed child, it isn’t your place to do so.

You finish your food fairly quickly, but so do the other two. You look up at Endeavor for the first time tonight, asking, “Can I be excused, sir.”

“No.” He replies, “We have things to discuss.”

“Oh… alright.” You fiddle with the hem of your dress underneath the table, “What do you want to discuss, sir?”

“I’ll take the dirty dishes and excess food.” Rei smiles at you, “You’ll be fine, [Y/N]. Pass me your plate.”

Endeavor waits for Rei to leave to start talking. You are acutely aware of how hot it is now, without Rei’s cooling, calming effect.

“How was your day today?” He starts the conversation off decently well. You look him in the eye, “Good.” You were taught manners growing up; you know how to hold a conversation, no matter how intimidating the person you’re talking to is.

“That is a pretty dress on you, [Y/N].”

“Thank you.”

“Now then. While you are here, there shall be rules you will follow. Rei and I have devised a fair list and she’ll go over them with you extensively in the morning.” He tells you, “Though, the ones concerning you tonight are: no technology post-dinner and that you shall be in bed by ten o’clock. Rei shall wake you up at seven am tomorrow.”

“Alright.” Those aren’t too harsh rules; other homes have had worst lists. Though, you won’t make a final decision on that until tomorrow. You tentatively ask another question, “Uhhh, sir. Rei mentioned other children. If you don’t mind me asking, where are they?”

“Shoto goes to U.A. They have dorms now and are forced to stay there. Fuyumi and Natsuo have since moved out, but visit occasionally. You’ll meet them when it is appropriate.” Endeavor tells you, “And [Y/N], call me Enji. You are now dismissed.”

“Alright, Enji.” As you stand to leave, you use his name, “Thank you.”

#yandere todoroki clan #yandere todoroki family #yandere mha #yandere bnha #yandere #mha #bnha #platonic yandere #yandere enji todoroki #yandere rei todoroki #enji todoroki #rei todoroki #canon? what canon?#who was going to tell me that my line breaks dont transfer over to tumblr like they do to ao3

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

Text

Crimson Ties (Bela Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 4

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: None for this chap Genre: Hurt + comfort Summary: Sure, your soulmate may be a vampire (of sorts), but there's nothing that love can't conquer, right?... Maybe it's time you learn a little more about the odd circumstances of your soulmate's existence- and the fear that lies beneath the surface. Notes: If the last chapter was "hurt" followed by comfort, this is "comfort" followed by hurt, also known as the part where the story's central conflict comes into play. Features an appearance from Daniela, who reminds us that Cassandra's not the only one with a sharp tongue around here. Previous Chapters: 1: Stem the Flow, 2: Tangled Strands, 3: Rumbling Thunder

4: That Which Burns

“Of all the stars, the fairest,” Bela murmurs in your ear, keeping her arms wrapped loosely around your waist, before giving you a gentle kiss on the cheek. If you hadn’t already been blushing, you certainly would have now done so. You’re leaning into her touch, face flushed as can be, loving every moment of this. For a while now you’ve been curled up with her, while she reads excerpts from her favorite works. Although both of you would have preferred to do this outside, enjoying the view of the stars, you figured it would be best not to push your health too much. After all, you had lost a huge percentage of your blood. Well, temporarily, but it was still better to be safe than sorry.

“That’s probably my favorite line from Sappho,” you chimed, fondly remembering some of your schooling. “Though the one about being remembered always stands out to me. I’m not sure I remember it correctly, and I’m sure it’s been translated a few different ways over the years… but I think it’s ‘someone, I tell you, will remember us in another time’. Might have gotten that backwards, actually.” Giving an awkward little smile, you sheepishly rub the back of your head with one hand. “Either way it feels so romantic. To think of a love so strong that it echoes throughout time, fondly remembered for generations… it warms the heart.”

“Mhmm, most definitely, my dear. Many aren’t as lucky, however,” Bela laments, an odd expression crawling onto her face. There’s the slightest waver to her lower lip as she speaks. Concerned, you turn in place to get a better look, gently reaching out to caress her cheek. Is there something I’m missing? You think, wondering what you should say. “I’m alright, I promise. Merely distracted by a fleeting thought. Let’s read another, yes?” Before you can protest, she’s already turned to another page, starting to read as if she already knew which one was next (which would not, at all, surprise you).

Love shook my heart, Like the wind on the mountain, Troubling the oak-trees

“Oh, if only I could speak Aeolic Greek, so that I could serenade you with tender prose, all the days of your life… just as it was originally written. Wouldn’t that be lovely?” Bela offers, once again smiling wide, as if nothing in the world was wrong, at least not when you were by her side. Though you are not keen to ignore her earlier stroke of misery, you are equally reluctant to put a damper on her current upswing. Now what were you to do? Little comes to mind, other than the simplicity of human warmth, and so you lean once more into her embrace, head held aloft on the strength of her shoulder.

“Here, as I am now, is more than lovely enough. Your voice is soothing in any language, sweet as sugar, relaxing as can be,” you reassure her in your softest tone. Heart fluttering, she finds herself easing back into the comfort of the moment, forgetting all about her earlier woes. “Shall we read another?” Nodding, Bela again turns the page and begins to read:

He’s equal with the gods, that man Who sits across from you, Face to face, close enough to sip Your voice’s sweetness

And what excites my mind, Your laughter, glittering. So, When I see you, for a moment, My voice goes,

My tongue freezes. Fire, Delicate fire, in the flesh. Blind, stunned, the sound Of thunder, in my ears.

Shivering with sweat, cold Tremors over the skin, I turn the colour of dead grass, And I’m an inch from dying.

“Does that make me equal to the gods, then?” You ask, as soon as the last line is given its moment to shine. A small hum comes from your soulmate, who seems equal parts intrigued and confused. “I look in your eyes and my lungs light on fire, my heart ricochets around my chest, and I hear the chorus of angels singing your holy praises. The fact that I can manage to speak at all is confounding. Maybe the muses have seen fit to lend me their artistry, so that I might make conversation worthy of your existence, my dear.” With that said, you find yourself being squeezed gently, Bela placing another kiss against the top of your head. Now, it seems she is the one without the ability to speak. “The divine witnessing the divine, yes?... Let me read the next one, and we’ll see if my voice could ever compare to your own.”

It’s innocent enough, your choice. A turn of the page, just another poem, selected for nothing more than respect for chronology. Yet something drains from the space around you as you begin to read, so subtly slow that you hardly notice.

Girls, you be ardent for the fragrant-blossomed Muses’ lovely gifts, for the clear melodious lyre: But now old age has seized my tender body, Now my hair is white, and no longer dark

How were you to realize that the great shadow of fear loomed over your soulmate, when she had refused to name it mere minutes ago? How were you to know to halt your reciting, when the aching of her heart rendered her throat dry, and she could not bring herself to call out to you? Words poured like poisoned wine from your lips… your soulmate having no choice but to drink up every last drop.

My heart’s heavy, my legs won’t support me, That once were fleet as fawns, in the dance I grieve often for my state; what can I do? Being human, there’s no way not to grow old

A shaky breath from age-old lungs, exhaled into tense air, forced out past a trembling jaw. Say something, Bela tells herself, any poem but this. For a split second you pause, and she wonders if her thoughts have found new light in your own mind. But you break the momentary silence without much care, simply having been unsure of your pending pronunciation of an old name, perfectly unaware of your partner’s panic.

Rosy-armed Dawn, they say, love-smitten Once carried Tithonus off to the world’s end: Handsome and young he was then, yet at last Grey age caught that spouse of an immortal wife

At last her ordeal was over. The final words hang heavy in the air, weighing down her shoulders, but they are done. Her fears had been dragged out from the pit in her stomach, now waving about like dirty laundry. There was only one way for her to avoid this happening another time: Tell you the truth. By now her silence had earned your attention, with you turning in her lap again, concerned gaze meeting her hollow one. Gently, she gives you a reassuring squeeze.

“I… am not one to balk at the nature of things, however painful the truth. Yet I hesitate now, with the very person I am bound to with crimson ties… How cowardly of me,” Bela all but snarls, anger clearly not directed at you. It’s clear in the way that she holds herself that she has more to say. There’s not much you can do other than wait, though you do tuck an arm around her waist, beginning to rub soft circles against her back. “Allow me to drop the pretenses. You are not immortal, but I am. We’ve only been together for a day and a half, and already I’m worrying about your lifespan. It’s safe to say that this particular poem was an unfriendly reminder of our situation.”

Oh. How exactly were you supposed to respond to that?... Your girlfriend- your soulmate- was immortal. Hmph, as if her essentially being a vampire hadn’t already been enough to freak you out. Now this? Well, maybe it wasn’t too much farther of a stretch from the last revelation, even if you were still recovering from that one. Even then, something told you that this was equally hard for Bela- both to say, and to simply feel. As if she needed more stress surrounding her partnership with you…

“Of all the ways for us to mimic legends… I don’t even know what to say, my dear. I… I suppose that I can only reassure you that we will make the most of every moment we have. However much time we are destined to get, we’ll make sure it is filled with bliss,” you reply, slowly, making it up as you go. An ache builds in the center of your chest as you talk, an internal yearning for greater confidence. Although words were your “weapon” of choice, you were not always a master in your use of them, too human to be infallible. “Maybe we should set aside the poetry for now, shift our focus to something, ah, less meaningful?”

“That would be for the best,” Bela agrees, already shifting like she was going to stand up, before you even had a chance to get off of her lap. Something strange had fallen over her expression, an invisible veil, putting an uncomfortable distance between the two of you. Inside your chest, a thundering heart threatens to go still. Had you done something wrong? Did you commit some unspoken sin? Together the two of you rise, in sync yet more separate than before, a thousand questions and anxieties rendering both of you silent...

—————————

Across the room from you, a pair of bright eyes watch your every movement, peering out from over an open book. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought that the “ruse” was intentionally poor. But for all the five hours you had known her, Daniela Dimitrescu had done nothing other than prove herself odd, clumsy, and quite possibly… overconfident. Admittedly, that still made her undeniably more pleasant than Cassandra. If you had to be stuck alongside someone other than your soulmate, well, ‘twas best that it was this strange redheaded gremlin. Even if she had expressed an unfortunate interest in eating you.

Gods, what is wrong with this family? You think, frowning a tad, unable to stop yourself from making eye contact with Daniela. Instantly she’s looking away, pretending to be engrossed within her book. The very same book that had remained open to the same page for half an hour now. I do hope Bela is having more fun right now, with whatever “business” called her away so unexpectedly. She hadn’t seemed happy to have to leave your side, earlier tension notwithstanding. Coming here to the library had been her suggestion, though you doubted she knew that Daniela was there, or at least hadn’t anticipated her sister’s unnerving behavior. Already the redhead was looking back at you, even less subtly than before.

Sighing, you decided that you could only put up with so much of this tomfoolery.

“Are you in need of something? Or is there something on my face?” You ask, setting your own book aside as you do. There’s a few moments of silence, as Daniela glances around the room, as if you might actually be speaking to someone else. When no scapegoats teleport to her rescue, she very awkwardly clears her throat, then moves to sit at your table. Though you are loath to admit it, your heart starts beating faster as she approaches. Not out of attraction, hell no, rather fear. Perhaps getting her attention hadn’t been the wisest choice after all…

“I just think it’s funny,” Daniela chimes, trailing off just long enough to run a finger down the length of your arm, “that Bela abandoned you so quickly. You’re so… fragile. Cassandra told me about the fun little introduction you had to our family- the blood loss, being chained up, the fear you felt when you got caught in our territory.” Suddenly she’s devolving into a fit of giggles, hand resting not-so-gently on your wrist. When you try to pull away, her nails dig in, and her gaze snaps back to your own. “But you don’t remember that part, do you? If you did… oh, we’d have to lock you up, like the little pet you are, to keep you from running away. I’m sure Bela wouldn’t mind seeing you in chains.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You snap, uncharacteristically furious. While it was true that you couldn’t recall exactly how you made it into the castle’s dungeons, you refuse to accept Daniela’s implications about your soulmate, or her assessment of your dedication. A brief second passes where you think she’s about to lunge towards you. Instead, she withdraws her hand, moving it to prop up her chin instead. Then, her lips slowly drag upwards into a wicked grin, wide eyes filled with dangerous amusement.

“So you’re more than a wannabe Shakespeare, after all? A bit more teeth, a touch more vulgarity, maybe a twinge of bloodlust, and you might actually fit in around here. Not enough to get our family’s ‘gift’- our secret to a long, happy life- but enough that Bela won’t grow bored of your sappy poems,” she teases with another string of laughter. Before you can question her about this ‘gift’, she’s all but jumping to her feet, stretching out her arms as she does. “I can’t wait to update Cassandra about you. We’ll be betting on how entertaining you’ll end up being. Try to keep from bailing on my dear sister too soon, alright?”

Just like that she’s disappearing into a swarm of flies, leaving you more confused (and angry) than ever. Taking a deep breath, you try to focus on what you need to do next: Find Bela. Talk to her. Get some goddamn answers.

#bela dimitrescu x reader #bela dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #got some fluff got some angst #casual reminder that daniela is capable of being just as cruel as cassandra #just normally a different kind

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wynsnerdyrambles · 3 years

Note

What do you think is the focal point of each breath? Like how thunder breathing seems to focus on speed, what are the focuses of the other known breaths? Love breathing seems to rely on the user's flexibility and insect breathing seems to rely on agility.

Oooohhhh the Breathing Techniques. I'm a sucker for sword stuff, and one of my favorite details in any story that makes prominent use of swords is the various forms of swordplay that exist in said world. So, of course the Breathing techniques in KNY were one of my favorite elements. So, we're gonna talk about them all.

Sun Breathing:

Sun Breathing, as the original form of the breathing techniques seemed a very logical place to start in our analysis of the focus points of each technique. Honestly though, Sun Breathing might be the easiest to identify. All other forms of breathing were derived from Sun Breathing, and as each of them focuses on more singular attributes, it would make sense that Sun Breathing is in general, a more holistic approach to swordplay. It relies on Yoriichi's Zen like state to function at its best, and is shown to feature a variety of techniques within its wheelhouse. It is the whole body, mind, and spirit, perfectly aligning into the sword strikes of someone in a Zen state.

Moon Breathing:

Moon Breathing is the only one of the original derivatives of Sun Breathing to not pass down into the repertoire of the Demon Slayer Corps in the form that we see it in, as it was only practiced by Michikatsu, who defected to the other side, becoming the demon Kokushibou. This one is a tricky one to pinpoint what's going on, as in the only form we see it in, the form has been tampered with so much by Kokushibou's Blood Demon Art so greatly, it shows very little resemblance to its former self. So, instead of analyzing the direct techniques to determine a focus, we'll instead take the thematic approach. Michikatsu was one of the first Demon Slayers to begin using Total Concentration Breathing after Yoriichi introduced it to them, and given the name of the style referencing the moon, which more dimly reflects the light of the sun, we can perhaps infer something along these lines: Moon Breathing requires much of the precise swordplay that Sun Breathing does, yet is lacking in the Zen that a true wielder of Sun Breathing must possess. It is a dimmer reflection of Sun Breathing's capabilities. In fact, given that there was some decay of the true forms of Sun Breathing as it was learned by the Kamado family, I would say that Michikatsu's original Moon Breathing might resemble the Hinokami Kagura.

Water Breathing:

Water Breathing seems to focus on the basics of swordplay, with a distinct emphasis on curved strikes and slashes. We know that Water Breathing is one of the more widely practiced styles in the Demon Slayer Corps as of the main story, with many different cultivators, as it is noted to be easy to learn. However, despite the relative ease of learning this style, I believe it is likely one of the more difficult styles to master, and I believe that the only true masters of the style that we observe in the story are Urokodaki and Tomioka, though I believe both Sabito and Makomo could have mastered the style had they lived.

Thunder Breathing:

Thunder Breathing emphasizes finishing off your opponent with a single strike, and because of this, places a heavy focus on both the art of drawing the sword, (Iaijutsu) and placing a lot of focus on the legs. (not me just barely realizing that Jigoro lost his leg, and therefore could no longer practice the forms effectively, hence his retirement). There is a lot of layering to the techniques of Thunder Breathing, as we know that mastery of the first form is key to mastery of all further forms. We also can see through Zenitsu that the first form is easily modifiable, accounting for both the sixfold, eightfold, and Godspeed variations, which I believe he developed himself, before using that base ground to develop the seventh form.

Stone Breathing:

Stone Breathing seems tailor made for intense physical strength and unconventional weapon choices. None of the five known forms of Stone Breathing seem like they would work at all for a traditional swordsman, and unlike many of the other forms, seem like they would require the user to be pretty physically powerful to pull off. So the focus here seems to be on pure physical power, alongside unique weapons.

Wind Breathing:

Wind Breathing is incredibly reminiscent of a real life sword style, namely Jigen Ryu. This style holds a high focus on high stances, as well as delivering an intense first strike, with teachings of the practice dictating that a second strike is not even to be considered. As far as things specific to Wind Breathing, the intensity and frequency of attacks should be noted. There seems to be a certain rough aggression to the style, and while that may merely be Sanemi's own personal take on the style, given we have no other sources, I would say that rough aggression is one of the focuses of the style, alongside its common ground with Jigen Ryu.

Flame Breathing:

Flame Breathing seems to focus on the energetic, passionate motion of a flame. However, that energy is channeled in a very precise manner, almost akin to the singular flicker of a candle's flame. Kyojuro's movements are energetic, but also incredibly precise. The movements are tight and controlled, but also have that passion and momentum of a fire burning. We see that the style must be incredibly precise by the way Kyojuro is able to use his sword just perfectly to deflect some of Akaza's punches, without damaging the blade at all. Flame breathing also features incredible variety in the types of strikes it employs, from the more straightforward slash of Unknowing Fire, to the almost defensive circular movement employed in Blooming Flame Undulation. Just like how a fire can be completely unpredictable, Flame Breathing seems to have a technique for every combat situation, rendering the user unpredictable in their own right.

Now we move on to the breathing styles that aren't directly derived from Sun Breathing.

Flower Breathing:

Flower Breathing was derived from Water Breathing at some point in the past long enough ago that a Sakura tree planted by the first wielder of the style is quite large in the main story. Flower Breathing places a heavy emphasis on observational skills, knowing your opponent, obvserving them and their environment to maximize chances of defeating them. Because of this focus on the gathering of information, Flower Breathing's techniques seem to be dual-purpose, serving as both methods of attack, and of evasion. The eyes are an important body focus for users of this style, as masters of the style tend to have very naturally good eyesight, as well as the final form, Equinoctial Vermillion Eye, raising the user's vision to such a high level that the world around them seems to move in slow motion.

Insect Breathing:

Insect Breathing is directly derived from Flower Breathing, and was the personal creation of Shinobu Kocho, the Insect Hashira. This style is quite unique among the Breathing Forms, as it is the only 3rd tier derivation from Sun Breathing that we know of, as well as focusing on an entirely different style of fighting than any other style. Given Shinobu's inability to cut off a demon's head, she has a uniquely designed sword, tailor made for piercing movements, rather than the traditional slashing movements. Speed is huge here, as well as taking the evasion elements of Flower Breathing and cranking it up to 11. After all, Shinobu's unique sword likely deals with additional fragility concerns, given it's function is essentially as a giant sword-shaped syringe. So, if Shinobu can inject her foe as quickly as possible, without risking a prolonged fight risking her sword's durability, that would be an ideal focus point for her unique fighting style.

Serpent Breathing:

Yet another derivative of Water Breathing, this style also seems to be the personal creation of one of the Hashira, namely Iguro Obanai. Serpent Breathing takes the 'flow' elements of Water Breathing and makes them the emphasis of the style. Obanai's sword is unique in that it's unique, but even Gotouge (who loves telling us the reasons why trivial details are the way they are) hasn't given us a reason why Obanai wields this unique blade. The blade is most similar in structure to an Indonesian Kris Blade, although with a much larger size. While there is no confirmed correlation, it seems to me that this style of sword would be at the very least, the optimal blade for Serpent Breathing. Serpent Breathing also likely incorporates Kaburamaru's role as a seeing-eye snake, likely avoiding making strikes too close to the body so as to avoid any accidental beheadings, as well as forms with very instinctual cues. In fact, of the derivatives, Serpent Breathing seems to be the closest related to its inspiration, likely only optimizing Water Breathing's styles to work best for Obanai.

Sound Breathing:

Somehow, this style is related to Thunder Breathing, although the styles seem completely different. This style makes heavy use of Uzui's njinja background, taking elements of that fighting style, and integrating them with the more conventional needs of the Corps' general fighting style. Mimicking the disorienting nature of sound and noise, Uzui makes use of small grenades, as well as his unique nunchuck swords, which notably have much larger blades than most standard Nichirin swords. This style is explosive and bombastic, and relies heavily on Tengen's unique ability to read the flow of a battle like a sheet of music. This style is pure chaos incarnate, and focuses on bringing the best out of Tengen's ninja training, as well as explosions.

Beast Breathing:

A personal style invented by Inosuke Hashibira, Beast Breathing is a distant relative of Wind Breathing. Making use of Inosuke's two jagged katana, excellent flexibility, and animal instinct, this breathing style is all rough edges and agression just barely channeled. Inosuke's excellent, animal-like sense of environmental awareness allows him to go full ham on aggression without needing to put much thought into an ambush, while also rendering him able to directly pinpoint a target in a large, chaotic crowd. None of these forms seem possible with only one sword, so it is necessary for any pupil of Inosuke-sama's to become a dual wielder like himself.

Mist Breathing:

Mist Breathing is a derivative of Wind Breathing, but seems more polished, making use of well refined swordplay, and streamlining the rough edges so key to Wind Breathing's identity. This is all for a good reason of course, for like the mist it evokes, this style is all about obscuring your movements and intent with your blade. In order to pull off feints, and other deceptive ploys with a blade, intense skill must be required to shift into the intended form with giving very few cues. Mist Breathing appears to be quite difficult to master, as the only known user of the style, Muichiro Tokito, is a literal genius with the sword. Mastery of Deceptive techniques as well as a refined grasp of swordplay is the focus of this style.

Love Breathing:

The personal creation of Mitsuri Kanroji, Love Breathing is derived from Flame Breathing, which she learned during her study with Kyojuro Rengoku. This style is incredibly personal, and it would take a miracle for someone to recreate it, given the perfect storm of Mitsuri's skillset. It takes the basics of energetic momentum focused on in Flame Breathing and multiplies it with Mitsuri's own flexibility, strength, and unique sword. It can be inferred through the flexibility of her sword that energetic momentum combined with intense flexibility is the key to this style.

And that about wraps up the breathing forms. Much like many real life fighting styles, these forms are very complex, and difficult to pin down to a single focus element. By giving a more holistic analysis of each style, I hope I was able to give you a sense of the essences of these fighting styles.

#an excuse to research sword stuff #probably more in depth than the ask really needed #kimetsu no yaiba #total concentration breathing #nichirin sword #kny meta

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

Text

daddy issues - chapter xii

The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.

When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

We had been tucked in for the night for a long time when I felt Ransom’s body twisting and turning in bed. I was almost asleep already, so I didn’t even process it until his arm curled over my body, hand resting over my grown belly to pull me closer to him.

The proximity woke me up a bit in surprise, but then the warmth of his body started to lull me back to slumber, only for him to huff and turn around, leaving me alone once more.

“Huh? No, don’t go…” I whined, blindly reaching behind me in search of the comfort he had provided until his hand caught mine and raised it to his lips so he could kiss my palm.

“You awake?” He whispered, and something in his tone felt almost urgent, instantly wiping the sleepiness from my eyes. I sat up, rubbing them so I could completely focus, worried about the man beside me all of a sudden.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Ransom mirrored my movements, also sitting up in bed before turning his body to face mine. He stayed quiet for a while, seemingly thinking over his words before sighing.

“You don’t want to date me, that’s fine.” The sudden affirmation felt like a punch to the stomach, especially after the night we had shared. Thankfully, he wasn’t done talking and what he said next made it pretty clear where his head was at.

“Move in with me.” It was a breathy suggestion, a blurted-out invitation, but it was obvious that he had thought about this for a while. “These past few days at your parents’ house were incredible. I was able to see so much, be around for so much.”

His eyes fell to my exposed stomach - I didn’t really have any nightwear that was appropriate for my pregnancy, but all the nights we spent together in this bed, he didn’t seem to mind. “I- I want to be able to help you when you want chocolate again.” He chukled. “Please?”

It was silent in the room while I tried to come to terms with what he had asked of me. It’s not that I didn’t like it, I just hadn’t anticipated it at all. It honestly caught me by surprise, so it took me a while to be able to answer.

“Okay.” It was almost frightening, the way my heart warmed at the huge grin that split open Ransom’s face as his eyebrows shot up in surprise. But it reminded me that I had to establish some boundaries straight away.

“Really?” His difficulty to believe it was endearing, as the reasoning he used to try to get me to accept his proposition. He had every right to want to be around for more, be a more active part of the experience of getting his child into the world, as I had the right to keep some boundaries to make me feel comfortable with the entire experience.

But he really had been making the most of it during our trip. And in the time I’d allowed him to dip his feet in the waters of parenthood - or the part of parenthood that involved taking care of me while I was pregnant - he really had rose up to the challenge.

I trusted him a lot more now - enough to grant him even more space to grow and enjoy this experience alongside me.

I couldn’t stop myself from leaning over and depositing a quick kiss on his lips, staying there to brush them with mine for a while longer as I gathered the courage to talk about something I didn’t really want to - particularly after the impromptu kiss.

“Yes, really. I want your help with chocolate too, I’ve been trying to keep my desires at bay for too long,” I jokingly huffed, making an act out of rolling my eyes.

“Have you?” The question had me laughing, and his laughter soon joined mine. It really was no secret how often I had asked him to go buy food for me, and he always did so diligently, with no complaints. So to say that I’d been holding back could only really be seen as a joke.

I wasn’t talking about that though. There was a different type of craving, a specific type of hunger that I hadn’t been able to satiate before this trip, and as much as I didn’t want to voice it and make this the permanent arrangement he was hoping to get out of me, I was happy to have a way to take care of it.

There was just one little thing.

“I do have one condition, though.” That had the amusement disappearing from his eyes quickly, and he straightened out to listen to me with a serious expression I hadn’t expected Ransom Drysdale to be able to pull off when we first met.

“I- You- I’m sorry, Ransom, but I really don’t want to have to deal with you bringing girls home all the time. You can date all you want, don’t get me wrong, I just don’t want to have to share a roof with your one-night stands.” I watched him blink a few times, his hand that was holding mine suddenly freezing as he took in my words and I waited with bated breath.

I knew I was handing him the conditions to negotiate what he insisted he wanted on a silver platter, but I wasn’t ready for that. And I knew he had every right to turn the table on me and make it clear that, if I wasn’t going to give in and get in a relationship with him, I had no right to limit how and where he got involved with the women he dated - not on his own house.

But Ransom really must have grown because all I got was a firm nod - a firm, decided nod.

“I’m okay with that.”

I let out the breath I was holding, closing my eyes momentarily as I thanked the stars, the universe for this outcome. Finally allowing myself to relax again, I laid back on the bed, staring at the ceiling in quiet contemplation as Ransom observed me until he decided to join.

I’d never been a fan of the quiet. As a lawyer, I knew its importance, the role it played in getting people to reveal their deepest, darkest secrets - or at least their pressing concerns. So I had the ability to anticipate that, stop myself from spilling out too much and reveal yet another part of my soul to a person who could very well take it and ruin it… but I didn’t.

I remembered that night in his car, when I let him catch a glimpse of what was going through my head, how this whole situation was very much affecting me because of its unusualness. I remembered how relieved he felt at seeing through my mask, if only for a second. So I decided to, just for once, take it off entirely.

“I’m glad you asked me to move in,” I interrupted the silence that had taken over the room. My eyes kept fixated on the ceiling lamp - the same ceiling lamp I’d stared at for so many years, so many moments of teenage angst, never imagining one day I’d do the same next to the father of my child. “I... It makes me feel… protected.”

Ransom’s body rolled to the side, now fully turned to stare at me. His arms were under his head, I could feel his eyes burning my skin. “Ransom…” I breathed out, still trying to think about what I was going to say, thinking of talking myself out of it. Should I really say it? Should I really be this vulnerable in front of a guy who seemed to hate it? “… I’m terrified.”

There. I said it. And in the silence that followed, I felt incredibly comforted by the weight of his head as it fell on my chest, his arms embracing me tightly against his body.

“I’m so happy that we can be terrified together now.”

I hid my laughter on his shoulder, kissing it softly before letting my head fall back against the pillow. My nails absentmindedly drew patterns across Ransom’s back, my mind taking flight as I began to think I’d fall asleep again. Once more, his voice resonated around the room, “So, how do you think we’ll do this?”

It took me a while to understand what he meant, and I didn’t stop caressing him while I thought.

“You mean… co-parenting?” My only response was a soft hum, murmured against my skin. The edges of my lips curled up, fascinated by the idea of Ransom Drysdale anxiously starting to plan something that was still months away from becoming a problem (if it ever would).

“We’ll learn on the job,” I assured him because really, it’s the only thing I could do and say. I was just as anxious, just as inexperienced on the subject as he was. But the thought that now I could be anxious and inexperienced by his side consoled me to no end. “Right now, I’m more worried about how we’ll be as roommates.”

“I just assumed you’d treat me as your personal butler,” he joked. Once again, it was exactly what I needed to break the intensity of the moment, and his entire body began to shake as I broke down in a fit of giggles underneath him.

“You know me so well, already,” I teased, feeling him relax against me once more, lulling me to sleep alongside him and fall in a blissful dream I never wanted to wake up from.

#my series #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale reader #ransom drysdale reader insert #ransom drysdale reader inserts #ransom drysdale reader fluff #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale series

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space-city-traffic · 3 years

Text

yet again im back on my bullshit so... (gazes with mixed feelings at the TV show Firefly) i could fix him.

my extremely long thoughts about my Own Personal Good Version of Firefly (with plenty of spoilers for the show and the movie) under the cut:

things that are getting axed first thing no question:

out with the whole “let’s add in a thin veneer of Chinese cultural aesthetics out of context for ~flavor~” deal. just no.

instead, let’s hire some actors from a bunch of different cultures and work with them to figure out how their characters would bring those cultures into space with them!! and also hopefully bring some experiences with immigration/alienation/travel into it, since the Whole Core of Firefly is about how humanity always brings our doomed and silly and stubborn and unique warmth with us even into the cold void where nothing is familiar or homey in the slightest.

let’s respect our sex worker character shall we?

i do appreciate that Inara’s work as a companion is described as legitimate and well respected in the show. however please stop having your captain and hero call her a wh*re every five seconds against her clearly expressed wishes and portraying this as just a totally acceptable thing

let’s be more respectful of our characters of color and also have some more diversity, shall we?

others have put it better than me but yeah, the way Zoe and Book are treated is very uncomfy, and the rest of the show is depressingly monochromatic. come on let’s do better.

stop the weird confederacy hat tips

again others have pointed these out with much more thoroughness than I could, but the names of some characters and locations, as well as some of the language used to describe the browncoats, has uncomfortably confederate vibes. instead i propose we very Clearly tip our hats to the Alliance equaling space capitalism instead! you can’t go wrong with space capitalism as a villain.

don’t! make! the! psychotic! character! violent!

listen i love River Tam with my whole heart. but you should absolutely not portray your only character with psychosis as violent because of that psychosis!!!!!!! and yeah, a huge part of her character is that her brain got fucked up by the alliance and so she hallucinates and is also a super ninja. but like. she doesn’t need to be a super ninja for her character to work, okay? the crew does not need to be scared of her for her character to work, okay??? more on this later bc it would take a lot of care and nuance to make her character work but i really think it can be done

things we are absolutely keeping:

found family tropes my fucking beloved

this should be self evident. this is why the show is as appealing as it is despite its flaws, at least in my eyes.

malcolm reynolds, the knight in dusty armor

there’s something so appealing to me about what Mal stands for. because at his core is this ridiculous, silly, stubborn, doomed devotion to what he thinks is important and right, a romantic idealism thinly covered by cynical cowboy platitudes that he thinks make his bleeding heart totally invisible. and he is so obvious and entirely incorrect. bless. this is a man who will do anything for his family, who charges into swordfights to defend his friend from a man who wants to turn her into an object despite having no clue how to hold a sword. at his worst, he starts brawls in bars just for the martyr’s thrill of being persecuted for supporting the right; at his best, he inspires downright religious belief from his crew because he represents a romantic and chivalrous and doomed dedication to the right thing over any practical concerns. and then he throws a “selfish” quip over it with 100% confidence that everyone fell for his clever distraction and believes him to be a dirtbag. he’s oblivious and ridiculous and god he makes me want to be a better person because he’s just so goddamned sincere. stupid, but sincere. 10/10 himbo. <3

Mal and Inara ultraslowburn friends to enemies to friends to lovers to enemies to friends to lovers to friends to...

there’s nothing i love more than a ship that’s just two people who know each other way too well, and they’re each the only one who knows the other well enough to call them out on their bullshit. the way Mal and Inara interact in the show sometimes makes me uncomfy but like. the core of their relationship has to stay.

space western aesthetic

i need the cows on a spaceship scene to stay like i need air okay

that sweet sweet religious shit

mal, who lost his faith in gd and a whole lot else during the war. who lost his faith in himself, and now feels he has to hide the part of him that still wants to be good, because he knows he can’t be anymore, and he feels like it’s embarrassing for a guy like him to want something so unattainable. who takes a preacher on board, and the preacher has lost something, too. the preacher has his own past, and his own questions. but not questions like the observant neurodivergent girl, the one who wants to interact with and understand this thing that’s so important to him, but it just doesn’t click with how her brain works and she feels like something needs to be fixed, either the Bible or herself. and Mal takes care of them all, and slowly, he begins to find gd again, not in a prayer but in humanity. humanity doesn’t need to be fixed, like the alliance thinks. the shining imperfect strawberry sweetness of it in his family’s smiles is something to be worshiped and served and devoted to. and he finds he has something to believe in again. (and his crew find that he’s given them someone to believe in, too. and maybe suddenly he’s a saint.)

and finally, my brilliant ideas as to what i would like to add:

TRANS WOMAN KAYLEE RIGHTS

listen her femininity is so important to me okay? it’s so thrilled about everything that’s pretty, from dresses to the spaceship’s electric innards, and it’s so non-traditional and grease stained until it’s not and it’s pink and ruffly and twirly, and she never sees any of it as a contradiction, because none of it contradicts, it’s all just her! her gender is warmth and love and prettiness, feeling pretty and appreciating the pretty and making her friends’ days pretty too.

i want us to find out she’s trans in that episode with the ball, and i want us to find out alongside Mal who just never asked or never realized. Kaylee gasps and squeals at the dress in the shop window and Mal makes an off handed, ill considered comment, and then... someone yanks him aside and hisses a few very significant words in his ear. and suddenly he remembers what the blue white and pink she painted all over the engine room means, and he knows he has something to make right. so he buys her that dress himself and lets her know just how pretty she looks, and when he walks into that ball with her displayed on his arm like something precious, he looks the proudest out of any man there. and she notices. for a few seconds, of course, until there’s chocolate, and ‘nara, and a chandelier—and some horrible girls, but she’s used to that, until—suddenly, she finds her people. a group of old men who light up when she jokes about compression coils and whack presumptuous boys who ask her to dance. they adopt her as a treasured granddaughter, and Mal is beaming at her like a proud dad, and she finds that one of her new elderly friends gazes a little too long at her bracelet, and so she gives it to xem and teaches xem a few new words, and... it’s a good day, huh? it’s a really good day. (of course, then the captain has to go and punch somebody in the face, but it was a real nice party up until then.)

also she and Simon are both transhet t4t im correct and you know it

time for a better River Tam

the first thing we’ve established is that this version of her is not unpredictably violent and the crew is not scared of her!!!! it makes no sense to take a kid who’s primarily brilliant, experiment on her brain, give her telepathic powers....... and tack on the fact that she also has super strength and speed and dexterity and what not, AND say that they programmed her to be super violent. no! no. not only is that extremely harmful rep, that’s also just stupid.

instead!! my version of River is in fact not terrifying to the crew, but is actually the one they feel safest around. River has always been totally blunt, she was one of those kids you could tell realllllly early was autistic, and she doesn’t like being disengenous at all. so you can always trust her to tell the truth and not play weird passive aggressive games or have any hidden agenda, which makes her just a really chill person to be around. also, one of her longtime special interests is music and dance, so whether or not she’s nonverbal on a given day, there will always be some sort of beautiful sound when she’s around. she does have the singing voice of a dying crow unfortunately but that’s ok bc Simon’s is even worse and they’re both incredibly competitive so you’ll at least get free entertainment out of the affair.

my version of River does have psychosis and hallucinations because of the trauma of the experiments, and they are really troubling to her. she and Simon work together to find ways to cope and meds that help, and it’s a process, but there are some things that help.

the only thing she gained from the academy was the ability to hear people’s thoughts and sense the future a little bit. and yeah, that led to her picking up a few spooky secrets at the beginning, which, yikes. and for a while, it was hard to figure out which voices were real and which were hallucinations. but around her friends, she always feels safe to ask “did you just think about triple cheese burritos or was that just a me thing?”, and they’ll always tell her the truth no matter how embarrassing their thoughts are, bc it’s important to all of them to respect her and help her sort accurately through what’s reality and what’s not. and bit by bit, she gets better and better at figuring out what kinds of things tend to be telepathy and what kinds of things tend to be psychosis, and that each one feels a little different. and because of the trust and respect and support of her found family she’s able to do that in a safe environment!!!

trans man Simon rights

listen i wanted to keep him as just a side note on Kaylee’s list but he is my son and he’s important to my heart so here goes

out on the outer rim where Kaylee’s from, gender ain’t much of a big deal, there’s an individualistic quality to life out there, and so if the trail you blaze is the trail of a woman or a man or neither or both, that’s respected even in the rare cases where it’s not outright encouraged. but in the inner planets, where competition and connections and public faces and family names are everything, you have to be what’s expected of you to survive. you can’t change your brand, you can’t be anything other than what your family planned for you since before you were born, it’s incredibly hard to survive in such a hyper competitive environment, and so your very identity becomes just a tool in how to market yourself for better success.

needless to say Simon (just as autistic as his little sister and also very trans) fuckin hated it there. but he was very good at it. correction: he was very good at his very specific field of STEM, good enough to where people stopped talking about how cute he looked in bows and started talking about how impressive his work was from a very young age. and his work had no gender. he could be whatever he wanted to in equations. so that was where he could express himself, and gd, he got so much praise for it, he never wanted to stop.

not until he discovered that his sister needed him, and ran away, and needed a disguise, and realized... suddenly, every stifling rule and prying eye was a million miles away. he was freefloating, freefalling, with none of the charted paths he’d been following all his life... so you know what? fuck it. he’s always enjoyed the name Simon. and since it’s not on any legal records, it’ll make him just that much more untraceable.

and on Serenity, starting over with new people who never knew him before his transition feels like an unbelievable blessing that just dropped right into his lap. he has to keep up the secrecy, he has to make sure they never find out who he used to be, because gd, it’s so nice when they look at him and say his name right, and he doesn’t know if he can handle losing that, not when it’s so new and so important to the person he’s finally becoming. but then one day, the unthinkable happens, the wanted posters for his arrest have an old name on them, they’re looking for the Tam sisters, and... nothing changes. the crew of Serenity could not give even a tenth of a percent of a fuck, and it doesn’t seem like they even know they’re supposed to. huh. that’s new. Simon could get used to that, he thinks.

i’m sure there’s more i could add, but it’s 4:30 in the morning now, so if more occurs to me, ill simply add it in a reblog tomorrow. if you’ve read down this far, i am in love with you. please let me know your Better Firefly ideas, too, bc im always down to yell about this show!!!

#firefly #Serenity #in which i choke out joss whedon with my bare hands and rescue his characters and give them better homes #ollies fix it series #malcolm reynolds #ollies personal good firefly canon

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stillgirlfrommars · 3 years

Text

you’ve got news

So, I already talked about this with @missmorwen and I know I don’t have the time to draw and make an actual comic out of it, BUT I cannot stop thinking about this SamSteve-post-engdame-fix-it story (with a dash of BuckyNat, ‘cause that’s just who I am) which is kinda crack and very rom-com (a bit you’ve got mail) inspired and doesn't make much sense, because... PLOT HOLES but * sigh * I kinda wanna share at least the idea so - bear with me:

So, instead of Nat dying, Steve sacrifices his Captain America powers on Vormir and comes back as Skinny!Steve and starts running a political blog called you’ve-got-news in secret, uncovering all kinds of shady business/corruption and becoming the bane of existence of every politician and greedy CEO - but it takes a while for his friends to figure out it's him who’s running that increasingly popular blog (which the new Captain America is actually a big fan of ;)). And the way that happens is as follows:

So, Steve almost died at the end of Endgame. The idiot (affectionate) of course still wanted to fight Thanos, but even with Thor’s Hammer, he took some serious, serious injuries which led to a tough talk with Sam, Nat and Bucky

Like I imagine, that while Steve would not have any regrets whatsoever about giving up his powers, he would still need some time to come to terms with the fact that he won’t be able to participate in the action like he used to. Even though, he actually wants and knows... it’s time to ... start something new, it’s still a process. So, there he is, trying to figure out who he is without the mantle of Captain America, re-defining the way he can and will fight against bullies in the future (cause there is no way he’s gonna stop that).

And to the surprise of everyone, Steve actually doesn’t press for participating in Avenger-style-fights anymore (he still does some of the practical mission planning and shit like that) but most importantly, he starts taking up new hobbies, like cooking or old hobbies like drawing - and he seems happier than he has in a long time, and yeah maybe it’s a bit too good to be true, if Sam starts thinking about it. But, hey, Steve finally seems to be happy so -

Meanwhile, Sam still becomes the new Captain America, and Steve is there while he is adjusting, finding himself in that role. He is there when Sam needs to talk things through, and yeah, it would still be a process like in tfatws series, but ... a little bit less alone, I guess.

So, the new Captain America fights alongside Nat and Bucky - and it’s good, they work surprisingly well together, but also: those two are stuck right in the middle of a weird assassin!flirting situation (I’m imagening a lot of veeery intense staring at the other while cleaning their weapons or beating someone up, innuendos en masse, dark humour etc.). And frankly, it’s getting on Sam's nerves because they seem to be so oblivious about the whole damn thing. Neither of them is actually admitting to anything, no, they are too busy teasing him about the ‘crush’ he has developed on that mysterious dude who is running the famous political-youve-got-news-blog that gained momentum a while ago and is currently keeping all the corrupt politicians and CEOs on their toes.

So, yeah, Sam might have been caught a couple of times reading or reciting from that blog because - it has actually turned into a pretty efficient way of mobilising people to demonstrate for change and it did give him some tip-offs in regards to who the bad guy really was and yeah. But it’s not a crush... Sam just really likes reading the blog posts, okay. That dude seems pretty cool and they share the same moral code, so... whatever.

What Nat and Bucky and Steve don't know (and he’ll never tell them), is that Sam is actually kiiiiinda already frequently talking with the guy who runs the blog. Anonymously on both ends, of course (because for good reasons both of them are pretty careful about giving away information concerning their identities). And in a way that whole anonymity-thing makes it a lot easier to talk about stuff he finds harder to admit to the people who he knows directly. So, you could say, blog-guy has kinda become Sam's internet friend, but not his crush, no.

Honestly, the crush he is more concerned about (that he also isn't planning on telling anyone about any time soon, cause Bucky would just tease him and Nat would start scheming) is, well, it’s Steve. Because, damn, he likes their get-togethers a lot, the meals Steve's cooking are honestly to die for. They watch baseball together, they do museum-trips... And the way they can talk about (almost) everything... He just feels understood and... yeah, loved (maybe not in the way that he wishes for, but still) and it’s nice to see Steve so happy and okay, maybe it’s getting a bit out of control because Sam took Steve with him to visit Sarah and his nephews and Sarah kinda saw right through his act of ‘hey, this is my best friend’ and ‘what do you mean, I don’t have feelings- okay. Yeah maybe I do’ and told him in no uncertain terms to fucking do something about it and get his shit together.

The thing is, he’s got it bad. But Sam is also torn, because this is the best fucking friendship he's ever had and he does not want to jeopardise that. So, in the end he ends up talking about this with his Internet friend... about how he kinda has this huge crush on his best friend, and his Internet friend is like, ‘TELL ME ABOUT IT, big fucking same here UGH. And I feel like I’m being SO obvious about it all. It’s honestly embarrassing. My other best friend keeps teasing me ‘bout it and tells me to just go for it, but that guy still hasn’t managed to ask out the girl he’s interested in, so, what does he know, right?’. And Sam laughs - at least he’s not alone.

So the days go by (Sam’s pining only increases, Steve took him to a wine tasting the other night and he almost... in his drunk state... almost... but he didn’t) until one day, while blog-guy and Sam are chatting, all of the sudden the blog-guy is like, ‘Shit, I think someone's breaking into my apartment’ and then like, ‘Okay, yes they are’ - and Sam's like, ‘call 911′, and blog-guy writes back ‘mmh think I can handle them’ (and Sam’s like ‘WTF... I know way too many people with zero regards for their own well-being, myself included’)

But then blog-guy is not answering anymore, so Sam frantically calls up Nat who rushes to his flat and Sam says: ‘You need to find out where that IP adress is located ASAP - the dude with that famous blog is in danger.’

And Nat does that multitasking thing where she’s working on the problem while ribbing Sam about the fact that, apparently, Captain America's Internet bestie is that famous blog dude, and- 'Are you sure it’s not a crush?'

But after another minute, Nat sighs and is like, ‘I can't find the location, this thing is encrypted af, it’s impossible.’ Suddenly, she notices something about the setup of the encryption and-, ‘Hang on a second, it was me who set this up for someone back in 2011.′ And as she slips on her jacket, she says to Sam, ‘Come on. I know where we have to go!’

So they make their way to what turns out is Steve's (!!!!) apartment and find him in the middle of a fight against over half a dozen heavily armed people, and yeah - he’s actually doing pretty okay for himself ‘cause he outsmarted a couple of them, but also- they kind of outnumber him, so Nat and Sam get to work.

And Sam doesn't even have time to fully register what that means re:blog-guy until they have successfully defeated the bad guys. After that's done, Steve is like, ‘Thanks guys, but how the hell did you know I was in trouble? Nat... you didn’t bug my apartment, did you??’

And Nat tstsk and then she just laughs because this is priceless and OF CoURSE it is Steve who is behind that blog... (she's a bit mad at herself for not figuring it out sooner, and a bit sad that Steve didn't feel like he could tell her, and that he assumes she has is flat bugged but, also,... kinda impressed.) But then she looks at him with a warm smile on her face, shaking her head, saying, ‘No, I didn’t, Steve.’ Her gaze wanders back and forth between Steve and Sam and she humms- 'That actually makes so much sense oh my god.' So, she leaves them ‘to talk’ ;) and for Sam to explain everything’ - and then it’s just the two of them.

And Sam does explain everything and is like, 'So you're that Blog dude, erm...' He's scratching the back of his neck, cheeks flushed, 'Turns out, we've been talking for months over that blog of yours. I'm (insert-Sam’s-username-here).'- and Steve's eyes go wide and you can literally see him processing that information right then and there and he's sputtering out a light laugh, and he's like 'Hang on a second... I... umm, okay, I gotta ask. So, that best friend you've got a crush on...' Well, it’s now or never -'Is you, yeah..', Sam admits and starts, 'and....' They both laugh again and Steve nods and just says- 'yeah, it’s you, too.'

And then they kiss and yaaay, happy ending!!!

And then the epilogue would be about them having a nice dinner with Bucky and Nat a couple of months later, and the whole time, Sam and Steve are being very much in loveTM. The three guys are standing in the kitchen, while Natasha is in the bathroom and Bucky's making a funny quib about how sickeningly cute Sam and Steve are together - and Sam, well, Sam just raises his eyebrows and is like, 'You know what, you're not allowed to say anything bout that, you and Romanoff have been acting waaaaay worse over the last year. At least we got our shit together in the end, what's your excuse, you are obviously absolutely in love with her!', and of course Nat chooses that exact moment to enter the room, hand on Bucky's waist, dropping a kiss on his cheek and is like, 'What do you mean, we've been dating for 6 months?' And Steve laughs and Sam groans bc .... he loves his friends, he does, but clearly, CLEARLY they ALL have to work on their communication skills!

The End.

#samsteve #buckynat #endgame fix it #Sam Wilson #Steve Rogers #Skinny!Steve #I know it's stupid and cheesy but everything else in my life feels a bit too much at the moment so I needed something cute to think about #Seriously though if anyone wants to use this as a prompt to draw or write... please do

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makeste · 3 years

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I really liked this newest chapter. But the question that remains is that even if Deku is somehow able to save Tomura, won't the population want to seek vengeance on Tomura? i always found this to be one of the most despicable parts of AFO's design because even if Tomura had somehow realized how destructive his path is and how he's been manipulated, I don't see how he could turn back. He was a wanted terrorist since USJ and his body count has just been growing.

okay so first off, Tomura has become one of my favorite characters and so I have a very forgiving outlook toward him. but I also understand that like it or not, the damage has already been done, and there are obviously going to be serious consequences for destroying a city and murdering countless people (on top of all the other things he’s done already). obviously he’s not going to get off scot free for all of that, nor should he.

on the other hand, here’s the dilemma for me. I firmly believe in people taking responsibility for their actions, but Tomura’s case presents a quandary, because when someone’s choices are being manipulated by another party, are they really still their choices? is it still free will when every decision you think you’re making is in reality being directed by someone else’s hand as surely as a piece on a chessboard? or the player character in a video game? and it’s been that way since you were a child?

to put this another way, someone needs to be held accountable here, but I’m not convinced it’s him. like, this goes beyond even the “I was just following orders” argument, because Tomura was literally groomed since childhood to ensure that he would never do anything but follow those orders. in fact, he’s been groomed to the extent where he believes this is truly what he wants. but the reality of it is that literally everything Tomura is and everything he’s ever done is because of AFO’s direct interference.

AFO killed Nana and targeted her family, which directly led to Kotarou’s trauma, which resulted in him becoming a shitty abusive dad because no one in the BnHA universe ever goes to therapy

AFO almost certainly gave Tenko the Decay quirk (I have another post in the works about this so I won’t go into lengthy detail right now. but in my mind this is almost a certainty)

AFO also most likely interfered to prevent anyone else from coming to Tenko’s rescue before him (you won’t convince me that this was just a coincidence)

AFO literally forced Tenko to hold onto his pain and anguish and trauma, adorned him in his own dead family’s body parts, and gaslit him into believing that he had an uncontrollable urge to destroy things and kill people

lastly, AFO expertly manipulated Tenko into believing that hero society was to blame for all of his suffering, when in reality every single trauma that he’s experienced can be directly traced back to AFO

basically this kid was targeted and kidnapped and forced to become a murderer. there’s no other way to put it imo. his life was completely destroyed. and so as far as I’m concerned, the story’s ending can’t be completely satisfying unless Tomura/Tenko, as the person who’s actually suffered the most because of AFO, also gets some kind of justice for what happened to him.

and him going to jail for life, or being executed or whatever, just doesn’t feel like justice to me in this case. hence my dilemma. because the people that Tomura has hurt and killed deserve justice too. so there’s the conundrum -- we have a murderer who’s also a victim. so no matter what happens in the end, someone (read: Tomura) is either going to get off easy, or receive a punishment that they haven’t fully earned.

basically there is no perfect happy ending here. but once we accept that, there are a few “good” endings which I could see playing out. one is the Darth Vader Ending, in which Tomura turns on AFO (the fact that he still doesn’t know the extent of AFO’s involvement in his dead family extravaganza is a huge factor in his potential redemption, imo -- if/when he finds out, that will probably be the moment of truth), and battles him alongside Deku, possibly sacrificing his life to help finally defeat AFO for good. his crimes are atoned for by his death, he breaks free of AFO’s will, and he’s ultimately granted peace of a sort. on the other hand, that ending is also tragic af and I kind of hate it, ngl. AFO tortures him his whole life and then he fucking dies -- that’s one hell of a “sucks to be you” storyline for such an important character.

another possibility is an ending where, after Tomura switches sides and helps defeat AFO, Deku and a few of the others “accidentally” let him and the rest of the LoV escape. very unfortunate. we turned our back for two seconds and they managed to give us the slip. we’re very sorry, you know how it is, etc. etc. this would be the Indulgent Ending, so named because it’s extremely unrealistic, and also everything I want. it basically consists of everyone living happily ever after because I want them to, goddammit. basically Tomura and the League ride off in the sunset to lead a life of harmless crime, and also Tomura gets another dog, just because. as for Tomura’s victims, they get their justice with AFO’s death, without Tenko having to be sacrificed as yet another victim.

and lastly, there’s always the possibility of a Downer Ending in which it turns out Tomura really is too far gone and can’t be saved. Deku still defeats AFO, but Tomura dies having never broken free of AFO’s control. I would absolutely hate this ending, as it is in no way satisfactory and basically constitutes a victory for AFO, since it would mean his philosophy triumphing over his brother’s. fortunately, this is also the least likely ending imo, because it would go against the very core of the story. as the First put it, “get it, Brother? the villain... always loses in the end.” otherwise what the hell has this all even been for?

anyway, so those are some of my thoughts. it is a very complicated situation, and in the end I’ll probably accept just about any kind of ending except for that last one that I mentioned. but I’m with Deku on this one.

#bnha 305 #shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #all for one #bnha meta #tomura meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #asks #anon asks #long post

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stevenbasic · 3 years

Text

“Knock-knock!” I heard at the door of my office, startling me. I was nearly - jesus - an hour into this video call with the Study Coordinator from Evolution, and had obviously lost track of time. “Where’s my favorite patient?!?’ called the voice. It was Vida, my Nurse Practitioner, entering with a broad smile, a procedure tray and someone else and causing me to look up from my computer screen. “Time for your mediciiine…” In place of her usual white clinic jacket, she was wearing a tailored black jacket over a black, figure-hugging, dress, cut low.

Immediately I said my abrupt goodbyes to Gianna, over chat, and shut down the window right as she was, good lord, blowing me a kiss. At the same time I looked up and gave my wan smile of greeting to Vida and the generously curvy blond woman who’d entered with her…

“This is Morgan, if you two haven’t met yet,” Vida said, as she briskly approached my desk, high heels clacking. Trailing behind her a few steps was a woman in a white blouse and tan leggings - a big woman - broad of shoulder, wide of hip, huge of chest, standing taller than Vida by five or six inches...and myself even more, “She’s a Nurse Practitioner too, from Evolution until just yesterday, when she joined us.”

“It is very nice to meet you, Dr. J…” Morgan purred, in a voice deeper, richer than Vida’s. There was a queer smile on her face and a hint of a vaguely Eastern European accent in her words, one that she was obviously trying to hide. For now she was hanging back, taking her cues from Vida as the younger but more senior woman began to prepare her tray behind my desk to my left. “Nurse Vida is training me today how to take the care of you.”

“H-hi, uh, Morgan,” I replied, immediately sensing that that was not this woman’s given name, and remembering it was time again for my booster shot. The thought, for some reason, brought me a little thrill, remembering how it made me feel last week…but was it also responsible for the 8 pounds I’d lost since then? “But, um, what do you m-”

Interrupting my concerns, Vida chuckled. “Oh, don’t get worried, doc. I just figured that the more of us that know how to do this for you, the better,” she explained, opening the strange black box in which the vitamin B12/D/K booster vial was packaged. I noticed the familiar, strange blue tint of the liquid as Vida removed it along with the pre-packaged syringe. “And Morgan here has lots of experience.” At that, Vida nodded up at Morgan; the larger woman took that as a cue to move around the other side of my desk, to my right, and come to stand alongside me there. I was flanked.

“I-is that right, Morgan?” I asked, hearing the nerves starting to quiver in my voice. I hated needles, I hated them. But this single, combination shot was much better than three separate ones. “Wh-what did you do at Evolution?” I asked, not able to recall her resume as I looked up at her; she was gazing down at me, over the shelf of her formidable bosom. I was hoping that, if she had started seeing patients today, that she had been more buttoned up during the workday. The cleavage she was showing at this moment, over the neckline of her overmatched white blouse, was vast.

“At the Evolution Pharmaceuticals?” she replied, the accent in her voice unable to camouflage itself through the words, “There, I was with research team, taking care of study subjects. But before, I was in pediatrics ward, with preemies, the NICU.” She looked down on me with a crooked smile, and seemed to be resisting reaching out her hand to me. Instead, she ran her fingers through her shoulder-length blond hair. “I love holding little bodies.”

“Haha well, that’s exactly why we’re here, isn’t it, Dr. J?” Vida added, explaining to Morgan and pursing her full, plump, latin lips, “This young man has lost a few inches recently and we need to make sure he gets his vitamins.” With that, Vida beamed down at me and released her thick mane of dark hair from the conservative bun she’d been wearing for the workday. A wave of the now-ubiquitous perfume in this place flowed over me, and I felt a stirring between my legs. I had been intermittently hard during my video call with Gianna - her tits were unbelievable - and I was afraid now that I might swell to some obvious, inappropriate monster of a boner with these women so close. “Lucky for him he has his girls to take care of him,” Vida concluded. The vial and syringe, for the moment, laid inert on the tray.

I tried to focus. ”I, heh heh, don’t know if I need someone to ‘take care of me’...” I spoke, trying to sound relaxed as Morgan’s left hand finally did come to rest on my right shoulder. I’d honestly just met this woman, but she was being very…familiar. Vida as well; she was generally a bit more aloof than she seemed today. It was like there was something weird in the air, something bringing them closer.

“That's silly,” Vida responded, “Even doctors need someone to look after them.” At that, she began to remove her black jacket, and laid it on my desk, as if preparing herself for her task. Underneath she wore a clingy black tube dress that hugged her hourglass figure and revealed her trim shoulders and the upper swells of her full chest; she watched as I struggled not to look at her body. “Who do you see for a PCP?”

“uh…” I began, trying to recall my last visit to a doctor’s office outside of this one, “…no one?”

“You mean…” Vida asked with exaggerated concern, as she herself put a hand on my other shoulder, leaning in to me and twirling a lock of thick, raven hair, “you don’t have a Primary??”

“N-no I, uh-“

”Well, that’s no good,” Vida concluded, standing straight and looking across me at her fellow nurse, “Don't you agree, Morgan?”

”Oh yes,” Morgan concurred, her dimpled smile betraying her amusement, stepping a touch closer, “You need the primary...care...provider.”

“That settles it,” Vida decided, removing her right hand from me to place both it and her left one on her broad hips, in determination, “I’m going to be your PCP from now on.” Her action had drawn my eyes to her remarkably tiny waist and shit this girl had some curves. “I’ll contact our insurance company, do all the paperwork. How does that sound?”

The big woman to my right was giggling, and her hand had begun to idly caress my shoulder.

“Uh, th-that’s fine…” I agreed.

“So,” Vida finally asked, with a wry smile, “does my patient have any questions before we get started?”

Ugh, right…the injection. “Well, um, honestly…” I began, knowing I should at least address the concerns I had over this combo B12/D/K formulation, “I’m not sure it’s working. I think I’ve lost weight since last week, and even maybe almost an inch…”

“That’s ridiculous. You must have measured wrong last time, used a bad scale,” Vida replied, trying to reassure me, “But…do you think you need to go out and get checked..?”

At that, Vida herself moved in closer, and I saw Morgan, to my right, turn her thick body more towards me. Both women looked down at me.

“Or do you want to let us take care of you..?” Vida finished. It felt like a challenge, and I sensed something, an inner struggle inside myself. The logical, intelligent practitioner who cared for his health wanted to answer one way, bring a halt to something that was dangerous, possibly ruining my life. But another part of me, the one that was feeling the cock growing once again down my right thigh in tribute to the ever-more enveloping warmth of these women, just wanted to say-

“n-no…I think I’m alright,” I answered, “let’s go ahead with the shot. I’ll be fine.”

If I had known then what I know now, that my mental capacity for rational thought in the face of arousal had been already crippled by foreign agents? If I had known that I was being purposefully enslaved, drowned more and more every day in the sea of pheromones and womanly curves in which I swam? WelI, I would have run screaming. Or, then again...would I?.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Vida assured me. Her voice had dropped low, almost hypnotic, “You don’t need to go out and see any other specialists. We’ve got everything you need right here…” She was beginning to prepare the injection, now, drawing the blue liquid from the vial up into the syringe.

“Yes, everything,” Morgan agreed, looming over me now so close to my right, her hips and belly blocking out the world behind her. Her scent was warm, earthy. Between it and Vida’s reassuring tone, I felt powerless to do anything but trust these women.

“But,” Vida began again, inspecting the now-filled glass syringe, “if you are still shrinking, lots of guys would be jealous. Don’t you think, Morgan? Here, take this-” She handed a band-aid across me to her fellow nurse.

wh-what?

“Oh, yes,” Morgan concurred, her voice husky, unwrapping the band-aid, preparing it, “very jealous.”

”What…what do you mean?” I asked, confused, looking from one woman to the next, up at them. Without even being told, I had begun rolling up my sleeve.

Vida chuckled. “Oh, you know, the whole ‘vulni-chic’ thing,” she answered, holding the prepared injection now in her right hand, “you’d get very popular if you lost another-“

“One meter?” Morgan said, giggling in her deeper, richer tone, “Two?”

“haha I’d disappear…” I joked, feeling a wave of warmth coming from Morgan’s body to my right, “just like, haha…”

“It’s not a joke, Dr. J,” Vida said, her voice plain, suddenly, clinical, “it’s a thing. Here, get ready-“

“Ouch!!!”

She’d jabbed me, in the left shoulder, with the shot.

Vida spoke as she pressed the plunger, pushing the blue liquid into my deltoid. “It’s not just a fad for women, guys these days are admitting it, too…” she said as she drew the needle out of my arm. Immediately I’d felt it entering my body, like a milky warmth. “Good boy,” she praised, “Band aid?”

“Thanks,” I replied without thinking, watching as Morgan leaned her big torso across me as I turned in my chair towards her, presenting my left shoulder. She was nearly smothering me with her big breasts as she applied the bandage, and I did everything I could not to goggle at the wobbling flesh of her full, tan cleavage. My roving eyes made me realize that this generously endowed woman was wearing a very thin bra, or possibly none at all. Somehow, though, she was still so firm, with a natural buoyancy that kept her tits high and proud on her chest. My gaze could not get enough. But then eyes fluttered as I was assaulted by both an overwhelming breath of her perfume and the first rush of pleasure from the shot. I began to lower my sleeve, rubbing my arm as I looked up at her, smiling down at me as she finally stood up and away.

“I mean it, with the shrinking,” Vida started again, watching me with an appraising eye as I recovered from my shot, buttoned my sleeve, “have you seen Melissa’s new Instagram post?”

With the butterflies? I didn’t want to admit anything.

“The guys that follow her, the simps,” she continued, “they talk about wanting to be like bugs, crawling into her breasts.” She was replacing the syringe, carefully putting it and the vial back into the box. “It’s all over the place, everywhere, though no ones really talking about it yet,” she said, as she closed the black container, “guys wanting to be smaller, weaker than us. Wanting to become inferior, more passive, more submissive.”

She looked down at me and smiled, watching as the effects of the injection began to take hold. Even more strongly than last time, I was being gripped by a pleasant wave of lethargy, relaxation.

“Guys want to be small, these days,” Vida said, “and we’d like it that way too, wouldn’t we, Morgan?””

To my right I heard Morgan purr, a little grunt. “Yes, Nurse Vida,” she said, her voice low and struggling with arousal, “we would like it very much.” I had the feeling she was holding back her true feelings, in restrained understatement.

Vida laughed, casually. “It’s weird, all these changes in gender dynamics,” she continued, brushing a lock of my hair behind my left ear, “the new thing is bigger women, smaller men. Here, look at Morgan, perfect example…”

I turned, looked up at the smiling behemoth of a woman.

“She’s probably bigger than you ever were,” Vida continued, “taller, heavier, thicker everywhere.”

“Yes,” Morgan agreed, seeming to rise up, grow bigger, heavier, right in front of my eyes, “I weigh much, much more than the you.”

“And, you have to admit…” Vida asked, watching me look up at the huge, busty blond woman, who was now absolutely dwarfing me in my seat and could probably lift me like a child, “that’s kinda sexy, right?”

“I, uh….” I began, not knowing what to say. My erection was getting painful, now, contorted as it was in my pants, trying to stretch down my right thigh.

Vida spoke again, now holding my head in place by my cheek and jaw, so all I saw was Morgan. “So, even if you are getting smaller...lots of us would like that.”

I sat there, in the building afterglow of my injection, and looked at this woman’s body. It was, in all ways, so much bigger than my own. Thicker thighs, wider hips. Her arms were stronger than mine, her shoulders broader. Standing aside her, I would look puny. Even Vida - though she stood roughly my height, maybe an inch or two more - her hourglass figure and womanly hips made her body just that much more than mine.

”Dr. J,” Vida said, pulling me from my reverie, but not releasing my face from her hand’s gentle embrace, “You look like you need to go lay down. We’d take you up to bed ourselves but we have an important girl meeting to get to, don’t we Morgan?”

“Yes,” Morgan replied, though never taking her eyes or dimpled smile from me, “Very important.” I watched as she looked down on me, regarded me, considered me. “But I promise. Next time you can go to the sleep in my lap,” she said, “I have a very nice lap.” With that, Morgan bent at the waist a bit, to gently slap her prodigious thighs. My eyes watched them jiggle, and then her hands come up to the collar of her blouse, hoisting her breasts. “Or, if not on lap, we find somewhere else…”

“Haha okay,” Vida laughed, finally releasing my head but smiling as I didn’t turn away from the cleavage into which I was now dumbly gazing, in my vitamin-fueled haze imagining myself sinking into it like a caterpillar, cocooned in womanly warmth. “I’ll get a couple of the MA’s to get you upstairs…”

=========================================

more Vida & Morgan imagery, more posts, more more more at my Patreon.

Thanks for reading, everyone.

#growing into the job

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thgreatestblue · 3 years

Text

cold as you [part l]

➜ pairing: douma x fem!reader ➜ warnings: murder, blood, religious fanaticism, gore. ➜ words: 5.2k ➜ a/n: hello everyone, i’m back! this time with a character that i thought i would never write for, but here we are. you can also read and leave a comment on my ao3, i would really appreciate it! <3 ➜ ao3

summary: You always believed the best course of action was infiltrating; little by little gaining their trust, and when they would less expect, you would bolt out of that place with all the information you could gather. Not wasting one more day of your life inside that covil of madness and cruelty — of twisted faith and demonic rituals.

The chill of the night crept into your bones as you walked down the dirty path alongside the followers of the Paradise Faith Cult. The only sound you could hear with your sensitive ears was coming from nocturnal animals and cicadas singing their creep melody all together with the cries from the crickets; blended together in a harmonic haunting song.

The soundless steps from the Cult’s members were almost unnatural, as if you were surrounded by ghosts; a phantom presence of what once were people with their own ideas and beliefs — now transformed into shells of indifference and fanaticism.

It took a couple of years, a lot of hard work and blatant lies for you to be finally accepted for the trial of the Paradise Faith Cult. You have been investigating their whereabouts since the day the Insect Pillar died. Since the day Kanae lost her life in a bloody fight against their Leader, a Demon called Douma.

The smell of the chemicals from the laboratory was all you knew for a long time, working together with Shinobu to find a way to win against one of the strongest Demon in all Japan — trying to find a way to win without using an absurd amount of strength, something both of you lack.

However, by the end of the first year, you were fed up with the scent that had impregnated even your skin; no matter how much you scrubbed it. And, although Shinobu never made any effort to convince you to stay, she still said between cold words how stupid you were being for dropping something safe. Even though she was right, the nagging feeling of annoyance wouldn't leave your mind — you needed to go out and find his trail by yourself.

Once you packed your things to leave, she appeared at the doorstep of your room, watching you with her big, purple eyes. You were already used to her trying to control her anger inside her tiny body by smiling too forcefully. After Kanae’s death, she became another girl, more mature. Angrier, though.

“I wonder who’s going to die first,” You said bitterly between your teeths, the silence from her part isn't totally unwelcomed, there was nothing left to say anyway, “You, with all those poisons. Or me, with my desire for danger.”

She clapped her hands together, the smile never reaching her eyes, “Let’s make a bet, then.”

You squint your lips together in an effort to not let an ironic laugh escape your mouth, wondering if Shinobu was at least slightly happy with your achievement — how close you were to finally win the bet.

As you walked with your hands tied in front of you, the dark welcomed you as an old friend. If it wasn't for the blindfold, you could try to excuse the need to have a hand on your shoulder. However, the path pulled some tricks and you were afraid of falling on your knees. But the heavy weight of their palm and the touch of the member’s stained fingers on your skin made your insides turn in disgust.

Despite the taste of acid on your tongue, you needed to keep the composure you fought to be seen for so long. A noble and pure candidate for the Paradise Faith Cult; with no bruises or scars, hair as silky as satin, a skin so delicate that even the followers that came to escort you chose to not tie the ropes too tight, afraid of accidentally making a single bruise. The Leader would not be happy to see his next servant with a bruise — at least one not caused by him anyway.

Once you were accepted for the selection, you knew you had to prepare yourself to be someone else completely. All those years training under the harsh sun now were almost like memories from another life; stacked up in a corner of your mind. However, inside you were still a Demon Slayer. So, you straightened your back, walking proudly with your chin up; even if the blindfold would leave your senses in a disarray of red flags.

In order to be selected for the Paradise Faith Cult, you had to let go of your old life. Although, sometimes you would miss the blisters, the fresh wounds after a tough mission, the scent of chemicals coming from Shinobu’s laboratory and even the way your body ached after training alongside with the Sound Pillar; building a new life from scratch in order to have at least a single advantage against the Demon was your top priority since day one.

“We are almost there, my lady. I’m sorry for the barbarian way we are escorting you,” The man holding your shoulder apologies, his tone never faltering. You could almost believe he meant no harm, “But we have to make sure to keep the place a secret, we already had cases of assassins coming and trying to steal our Leader from us.”

You had heard about those cases; after all, they were once your friends. Fearless and so confident with their skills, they would brag about how easy it was to spot their hideout, how weak the people inside were compared to their sharp katanas. What they seemed to never take into consideration was that, between masses of devotion, lived a King — who was, apparently, hungry all the time.

You always believed the best course of action was by infiltration; little by little gaining their trust. And when they would less expect, you would bolt out of that place with all the information you could gather. Not wasting one more day of your life inside that covil of madness and cruelty — of twisted faith and demonic rituals.

“Thank you for your concern, I understand wholeheartedly your methods,” You say with the softest tone you could managed it, trying your best to not spill the acid boiling on your tongue, “All I wish is to serve your Leader, nothing more.” You bow just a little, touching your heart. The rope brushes against your skin uncomfortably.

At first, those lies were hard to formulate — hard to accept that you were talking down your own family. However, one day, they stopped tangling your tongue; stopped making your lips tremble as you pictured your friends judging your behavior. It was all for a purpose, Shinobu never judged you for choosing this way of action.

So, when your squad left you all by yourself in the middle of the mission, you said nothing. And when none of them came back, there were no tears left for them. Only the purpose of keeping moving forward, anything to make this mission worth it; to honor the name of those who failed to see the bigger picture.

“We appreciate your compromise with the Paradise Faith Cult,” The man continued, seeming pleased with your answer. His scent was too sweet and the grip on your shoulder was too tight for your liking, “It’s not everyday that someone so well mannered and royal seeks for us. The Leader is going to be very happy to have you.”

“I’m flattered that you think so well of me,” Swallowing down the bitter words that always threaten to escape, you gently smile instead, “I hope your Leader will think the same.”

By now, the lies that came out of your mouth were second nature. So easy to come up with, that most of the time you had to ground yourself in your past, remembering all those horrifying things you saw when it was part of your daily life taking down Demons. And even though the Corps itself agreed to let you live this fake life, it still pained you to sit down and do nothing. It had to be worth it in the end.

Suddenly, your ears picked up a few voices in the distance, the quiet steps of shoes on wood, the rustling of clothes. Even with the blindfold, you could sense the lights coming to view, warming your skin from afar. And with that, the sensation of being caged in a twisted universe finally settled down in your stomach — a universe where a Demon was worshipped.

There was a sudden stop, a few whispered words you didn't make any effort to listen to. You were too occupied thinking that the moment you have been working on for years was finally happening. You were here, right at the entrance of the Demon’s domain, and none of those members around you suspected that you were working undercover.

Just keep the facade and you will be fine.

“We are here,” The heavy touch of the man finally leaves your shoulder, making you involuntary sigh in relief. It was starting to be unbearable the feeling of his sticky fingers moistened in lotion to cover the smell of blood he must clean off the floors everyday.

“I’ll be taking off the blindfold now, excuse me.”

As the darkness was lifted from your eyes, the lights coming from the huge temple blind you immediately. They shone so bright against the dark blue of the sky, that for the first few minutes you blinked helplessly, adjusting your vision to the sight in front of you.

The temple seemed to glow on the top of the mountain, lights reflecting the intrinsic details of pure gold on the walls; like a savior beacon on the coast, guiding ships towards safe land. Or, like a flame to a moth, the warmth not only blinding, but also cruelly burning it till the bone — for you, it was definitely the latter.

It was no wonder why this place was easy to spot if you were really looking for it, it screamed royalty and fortune as the outside walls were decorated with beautifully handmade flags. The few people walking around the entrance were also wearing neat and clean clothes, without a single hair out of place.

“Please, follow me.”

Although the blindfold was gone, the rope that tied your hands together was still wrapped around your wrist. The rough material was starting to leave red marks on your skin, but what bothered you the most wasn't the prickling material bruising the delicate flesh you had always taken good care of.

No, what bothered you the most was the way all eyes turned to look at you as you walked inside the temple.

You were being judged, examined — just like a caged animal, ready for the slaughter. Those eyes bore down your body; crawling under your skin, making the blood underneath it boil with the intensity of the stares you were receiving. Despite the amount of mental preparation you did for this moment, being judged by them was still an outrage. I should be the one doing the judging! You wanted to scream; shout at them, try to put some sense on their empty heads.

Instead, you held your head higher, smiling down to those who dare whispering about you.

Arriving at the main room, you could see how large the temple was on the inside as well. But of course, for someone surrounded by his own food and adoration, the place had to be as big as his appetite. The walls were filled with fancy tapestry, adornments of gold decorated the pillars, all together with expensive rugs and pillows — it was all too much to take in.

This was more than a simple home for a Demon, it was a heaven to its God. And the massive throne sitting at the top of the stairs, was a proof of that power.

The whispering and stares never stopped. Actually, they intensified as the crowd grew bigger, you could almost hear their words behind those filthy hands, questioning if you were worth being in his presence. And again, you had to hold the smile on your lips, hold your hands in place — even though your fingers would twitch from now and then, wanting nothing but to punch a whole in their faces.

The man who was escorting you comes to a stop right in the middle of the room. He doesn't say anything else, only unties the rope around your wrists, letting you go finally. You bow respectfully as you were trained. He offers the same treatment, leaving you alone to the eyes of the crowd. Involuntarily, you reach for your wrist, rubbing it to release the tension that was starting to bottle up inside you.

Staring straight ahead, you analyze the indentations on the throne. The sounds of their voices are muffled by your thoughts as your mind drifts away, remembering every moment that led you to this instant. All those years trying your best to be the perfect example of a woman, learning all the aspects that were needed to be selected by the Cult. Years spent behind closed doors only to serve a purpose many people thought was hopeless.

Shinobu was right, she always is anyway — you were crazy for danger. How far would you go, now that your life was at risk? Now that you were in his domain, at his mercy? What if they asked for something you just couldn't give?

For now, just smile.

When their empty eyes finally left your face, you turned your head slightly to see what was happening. Caught by the corner of your vision, the commotion was caused by the arrival of another three candidates. They were well dressed just like you, but there was something different in the way their eyes were gleaming with adoration, looking at the place as if they were arriving at heaven's gate.

It turned your stomach, leaving a bad taste on your mouth. Even after everything you had heard about this place, victimizing the way people around here acted was frightening. The amount of blind faith scared you to the bone, at the same time that it left you pitting them. They slowly approached the center of the room, amazed with the amount of fortune the place oozed.

For a moment, you wondered if you should have interpreted the role of a fanatic — if it would've been more convincing. However, the way they were so baffled by those around them, speaking excitedly about the Cult, showed thet it would’ve been impossible to replicate then — not even years training your smile would’ve been enough to tell such a lie.

Suddenly, like a lighting announcing the arrival of the rain, the musicians started to pound the drums. The heavy sound spreaded throughout the room, and the conversations abruptly came to a stop. There was only the sound of the synchronizing beat enveloping the place, announcing the arrival of the Leader.

You pinch the back of your hand to stay calm; a terrible habit you developed after the time you spent at the etiquette school. This way, the teachers could never tell if you were inflicting anything to stay grounded. After all, it was highly rude to show signs of anxiety to the person you would serve. However, being in the middle of the room, so out in the open, with all those eyes watching you as a hawk watches its prey before the fatal attack; it was definitely maddening.

You hear the sound of a door opening, the sound of people crying, shouting praises, excited to see their Leader. Holding your breath, you prepare yourself to see the Demon that has taken over the course of your life for the first time ever.

You had only heard rumours about his appearance, about his habits. But they were only speculations, no one really knew how the Upper Moon Two really looked like. And hopefully, you would be able to fill in those gaps with the discoveries you were going to find here.

As the star of a play, he enters your view. And it is definitely not what you were expecting.

His hair was long, falling like a waterfall down his back. Flawless and elegant, it swung around as if it weighed nothing, the pale golden color of it matched perfectly with his skin that was in a shade of white that reminds you of snow. The strands framed his face perfectly, giving him an almost angelic appearance that if you didn't know better, you could be so easily fooled.

The black cloak around his shoulders sways as the Demon waves to his followers, basquing himself with their screams of adoration. Douma was a young man, tall and well built, his clothes were perfectly tailored to his strong body, the red garment he was wearing underneath contrasted with the pale of his skin, but you couldn't say it wasn't a good look on him. He gracefully smiles at the crowd, and a slight shiver ran down your spine when you spotted the obvious fangs on his demonic grin.

But then, something made you stare for longer than you should’ve. Your eyes grew slightly bigger as you watched him from the ground. An array of colors filled his iris like the rainbow, they blurred into each other so smoothly that if you haven't seen it for yourself, there was no way you would believe it to be true.

They were so… Beautiful.

You didn't know that something so extraordinary was even able to exist — and maybe that’s why you were standing in a room full of worshippers right now. For a moment, you lose control of the beating of your heart, making goosebumps break throughout your entire body. The blood flushed through your veins faster than they were supposed to. It was a miracle to have such a distinctive eye color like that. Almost like a cruel joke that someone blessed with such beauty was actually a monster underneath.

As his eyes scan the crowd, you can hear your own heartbeat, beating so loud in your ears that the screamings of devotion are muffled; it all becomes a blur as you watch him move around, examining every inch of his face — that carries a facade you unfortunately knew too well.

The first thing you realize is that Douma is too perfect. The corners of his lips are frozen in an impeccable smile; but it's not the kind of stiffness you would find in someone who's lying. It’s the type of crooked smile that only manipulators wear on their faces. The oddness of his being is contradictory.

He’s faking it.

But for what reason? Isn't he satisfied with the way he manipulated entire masses of people for his own sake? Free food walking straight into his claws, he doesn't need to move a single finger to have whatever he wants. Isn't it enough for him?

In a moment of carelessness, your eyes met. And, immediately, a piercing feeling hits your heart, like a dagger cutting through flash. The moment shifts, and the current of air suddenly hits the exposed skin of your arms and you shiver. Something heavy settles down on your heart, corroding it to a forceful stop as he holds your stare in an open invitation for defiance.

Not being able to hold still, your personality splashes into the blank canvas you had put in front of you. And maybe you should’ve painted the fanatic role for yourself instead of forcing a white canvas to stay white. It was too easy for him to spot patterns after decades looking at the same hopeless faces of those who wanted nothing but to bring him down.

It slowly suffocates you as his eyes take a little bit too long to leave yours. Those mere seconds of being under such a dangerous, yet extraordinary combination of colors is enough for you to rethink everything you thought about this mission. Were you being too naive to think that you would come out without one or two scars? If you were to ever come back.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we are reunited here today to celebrate another successful selection,” The man announces to the crowd, seeming so full of ecstasy that it contaminates the other candidates, making them smile and clap in excitement. And you have to force yourself to keep smiling, holding it with a tight grip that almost hurts your face.

“Today, our benevolent Leader will choose another fortunate member for the Paradise Faith Cult, who is going to serve and adore him for the rest of their lives!” The way he says those words is so oddly normal that you have to stop your mind before it goes to a darker place, a place where not a single light ever survived. Do not think of those who came before. What’s done, it's done.

Douma moves gracefully as he steps down from the high podium, the gold around him shines against his paleness, making his skin glow in different tones of yellow. Each time that his feet move to step down the stairs, your heart skips a beat or two. They were bringing him closer to you — closer to your facade. You wonder which lie was going to crumble first, he had decades to refine his, after all.

However, before he could reach the center of the room, a woman breaks down running in his direction. She’s clumsy and desperate, and even though you could see the tragery forming right in front of you, you don't make a move. Right now, your life's was on the line, if you made a single movement outside of the character, it was highly possible you wouldn't have the privilege to try the scene again.

“Douma-sama, I love you!” The woman cries, getting on her knees as soon as he reaches the end of the stairs.

She holds the fabric of his tunic for dear life as tears start to run down her face. The disgust that crosses his face is frightening for those who were paying close attention. And for your, oh so lucky, you couldn't stop analyzing every single wrinkle on his face.

“You're a blessing to this world! You’re the chosen one! Please let me —”

The sickening sound of bone crushing fills your ears when her head is cut in half, so fast you couldn't follow his movements. Staring ahead, you could see the blood pooling down the clean wooden floor underneath his feet. No one moves. No one even bats an eye to the headless body on the floor. It’s so sickening that the taste of blood fills your mouth while you watch people around him apologizing for her behavior.

You wonder if your friends found the same faith by his hands, or maybe even worse.

“If someone is disrespectful on that level, they don't deserve to be here. Don't you agree?” Douma raises his voice to the crowd, running a hand through his clothes. For everyone else, it seems he was composing himself after such a dangerous attack. For you, he was clearly disgusted to be touched by the hands of someone so insignificant.

Not a second later, everyone is agreeing with him, nodding their heads collectively. Bowing until their noses touch the ground, almost kissing the place where his feets once were. They offer him gold jewelry, fancy fabrics and relics of an ancient era. The devotion was suffocating, and you feel extremely sick to the sight. How could people live like that?

Douma carries on, finally reaching the first one of the line. He bows a little, analyzing the young man in front of him. The long nails are painted purple and well trimmed, they are long against his smooth face, dangerously sharp. The boy was paralized, you didn't know if it was for fear or adoration. You can see his mouth opening, but there’s no sound coming out of it. The boy’s head is sent flying across the room.

The amount of unrestrained violence in an environment where there should exist a benevolent God is a cruel joke. If a God really did exist, would they be like that too? So cruel in the name of power. In a world where Demons existed, where hundreds of people were killed in cold blood in a nonstop night of horrors, then yes, they would be just like Douma.

You can feel sweat running down your nape as he approaches the woman by your side. She’s visibly shaking, eyes wide open in a display of fear. The trembling of her hands are so strong you wish you could just hold them in place, for your own sanity. However, what you did not predict was that her voice never faltered through.

“You're a monster!” She screams in his face, as the reality of what the Paradise Faith Cult truly was, rapidly comes crashing down, and dreams of a better life are shattered by the Demon in front of her.

You could choke on the silence that followed soon after those words left her mouth, the amount of predatory eyes that fell into her small frame could burn holes on her skin. Yet, Douma’s expression never changed. That sinyal smile still stood proudly on his demonic face. However, the crack on the smooth glass appeared for a fraction of time, the twitch of irritation in his eyebrow gave away the ending of the poor girl.

“You're a monster! And everyone here is bewitched by—”

If you thought you had heard terrible sounds coming from someone when they were dying, the sound of someone being sliced in half was nothing in comparison. Her body splits in the middle as the halves fall apart on the floor. It’s gruesome, hideous. It was good that you didn't eat anything before the mission, the nausea was almost unbearable even when you weren't looking at the sliced body right next to your feet.

“I’m getting impatient,” Douma says, too sweetly for your liking, as if he was trying to show emotions even when he seemed unfazed. He throws a glance to a man standing next to the stairs, “I thought you said it would be a successful selection, huh?”

You can see the man shaking on the spot, already kneeling for forgiveness. And even though the blood, thick and hot against your face, disgusts you to the bone, you don't dare to blink. Don't dare to move. Even when all you wanted was to scrub that dirty blood off your face until you could see the rawness of your own skin. It turns your stomach again, painfully aware of the place you got yourself into.

Douma then switches his attention to you, the last one standing in a room full of dead bodies of what once were believers at heart. Hawk eyes start to scoop every inch of you, from the dirty garment he himself got stained, to the still well tidy hair. Walking around your body as if he’s evaluating a new piece of art that was just acquired.

Although there were so many things to analize, why the red of your lips was the one thing his eyes stayed for longer was beyond your imagination.

“And what about you?” Douma says, almost in a singing tone, “I hope you can give me an acceptable answer, this batch of servants they brought me is showing to be the worst until now.”

The air becomes colder as each word pierces little daggers in your heart. You were sure it was midsummer, it wasn't supposed to be so freezing. Not inside a place where so many people were crammed together nonetheless. You could even swear there was a little snowflake floating in between you and him, but it was gone as soon as Douma stepped closer, wrapping his hand around your neck.

It isn't the weather, you come to a conclusion then. It’s him. He’s the one who’s freezing. How fitting, you think. Just like the dead Demon he is, inside and out.

“I’ve always wanted to be here, Douma-dono,” You don't falter, holding your head high with a slight defiance in your stare, which you couldn't help show in full display. There was something in submitting completely to him that makes your skin crawl in despair. His nails dig a little on your smooth neck.

“And why’s that?” Douma leans closer, still holding your neck in a tight grip, nails starting to dig deeper on your skin. But you don't budge, not even when his face was so close that you could see each color of his eye bleeding into themselves, in a rainbow dance that left you almost speechless. Almost.

“I believe I’m right where I'm supposed to be,” You answer, the rehearsed script you had prepared thrown out of the window. However, your tongue was still sharp enough to give him an acceptable answer — It wasn't like you were lying anyway. “There’s no place in this world where I would rather be.”

Douma’s smile sends shivers down your spine, one that you couldn't hold to yourself. He could probably feel the trembling of your body through his touch on your neck, and you hated that you could tell how much he was enjoying this just by the sadistic way he still held the fragile part of your body in such a tight grip.

He represented the kind of cold that only the harshest winter would bring. First, it was your face, then the tip of your fingers. Slowly bringing you closer to death, painfully slow to those who don't have a place to stay, to those who are out in the open without any cover. Just like you were right now.

It seems a long time has passed before he releases your neck from his freezing touch, it’s carved in such a cold grip, that it burns instead. Douma does not spare a second glance in your direction before motioning to one of his servants. The relief on their faces is palpable, it's disgusting.

Two servants come quickly towards you, pulling back the sleeves of your kimono, exposing the skin of your forearm into the air, that surprisingly enough, is hot again. As you watch Douma going up the stairs again, they bring a golden goblet in your direction. You don't understand what is happening, you can't even begin to process their hands on you; but it doesn't take too long for you to find out.

Another one brings a very sharp knife, and there’s not even time for you to protest. The cut isn't deep, but stings all the same. You watch your blood fall into the goblet, slowly filling it. And for your surprise, you catch the moment Douma’s eyes grow a little wider from his place on the throne. It’s not a good sign.

It takes some time to fill, but once it's enough for at least a satisfied sip, they let go of your arm. While one is taking care of the cut, wrapping around bandages, the other offers the goblet to the Demon. You nervously watch Douma take a long sniff at the content inside it, before drinking it all in a single sip.

The creep smile that spreads through his face is enough to make your heart skip one or two beats faster than it was supposed to be, you were so nervous, that at this rate you were going to collapse from anxiety. Doumas’s eyes shine with a different type of malice and suddenly it's impossible to control the beat of your heart, it breaks down in a frenetic beat that has your head spinning.

“Aren't you something else?” He licks his lips, stanned with the red of your own blood.

A long time ago, Shinobu had said something about the power that it carried. But after so long, you had forgotten the Marechi blood running through your veins.

Today was the day you would never forget about that simple fact.

#douma #douma x reader #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny x reader #kny #sometimes I write #god it's good to be back #at times like this i remember how much i like to write

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