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#like honestly i used to feel unconsciously embarrassed every time i shared my interests
woundposting · 4 years
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stop shaming people for being passionate about the things that they love. stop mocking people for having unusual interests. like, honestly, i'm so tired of feeling embarrassed for being "too much". if being too much means having deep interests that fill my life with romanticism and excitement, then let me be!!! i'd much rather listen to anyone ranting about their latest obsession with 16th century swords than have a boring ordinary conversation with those who shame passionate people
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hangovercurse · 3 years
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Until You Fall Asleep
After moving in with the crew to help cure your quarantine boredom, you find a new way to deal with your insomnia.
Request: “Could you please do a Colson fanfic where you're a friend of the gang and you move into their house for quarantine so you're not alone. Colson finds out you have terrible insomnia and starts staying up to keep you company and you gradually start sleeping in his bed because it's the only place you seem to actually sleep. You start to get really close through these late night chats, watching films, sharing stuff and opening up to each other... Friendship starts to develop into something else. I need some fluff to see me through these sleepless nights! 🙏😘 Thanks!”
Colson X Reader
Warnings: cursing
Word Count: 3487
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Living with your best friends during a nationwide quarantine seemed like a good idea when you agreed to it, but after the 5th night of wandering the huge house late at night because you couldn’t sleep, you were starting to think you should’ve stayed where you were. At least at your own place, you didn’t have to worry about sneaking around so as not to wake anyone up.
Luckily, no one seemed to notice that you woke up earlier than everyone else in the house or went to sleep later. Or if they did, no one said anything.
Day five
Tonight hadn’t been going so well. You had tried showering, you hadn’t eaten for at least a few hours before trying to sleep, you turned your lavender diffuser on, you’d even tried yoga. Nothing helped, and you were left staring at your ceiling.
Frustrated and uncomfortable, you rolled out of your bed, sock clad feet pattering across your room and slowly pulling your door open. You made your way through the house and out to the pool, letting the cool night air wash over you. A deep breath fell from your lips as you began to pace around the deck, hoping to tire yourself out enough to sleep.
After a few minutes, you heard the sliding glass door open, looking up and finding Colson stepping out with a blunt in his hand. He smiled tiredly at you, “you’re up early.”
You raised an eyebrow, “what time is it?” You figured it was 4, maybe 5 am.
“Almost 7,” he looked concerned, “you okay?”
You were trying to figure out how you managed to stay up until 7 am without a wink of sleep, “yeah, just couldn’t sleep. It’s cool though. Why are you up?”
Colson lit the blunt as he spoke, “couldn’t sleep either.”
Day eight
You found yourself curled up on the couch, reading a book at 5:30 in the morning after hours of trying to fall asleep. You swore if you stayed in your room a second longer, you’d break something, so you snuck out to the TV room with the most boring book you could find.
“Do you ever sleep?” Colson’s voice surprised you, making you jump lightly in your seat. The man chuckled at your reaction, taking a seat next to you.
You pouted at his glee, “I could ask you the same thing.”
He shrugged, “sleep is for the weak.”
A sarcastic chuckle fell from your lips, “oh yeah, I feel so strong and cool right now.”
The man laughed with you, but soon turned serious, “serious though, are you good? Both nights this week I haven’t slept you’ve been awake, and I know you don’t take naps.”
You sighed, “it’s just insomnia, I’ve been dealing with it on and off for a couple years now. It’s not a big deal.”
He cocked his head in curiosity and worry, “how much sleep have you been getting?”
You ducked your head in embarrassment, “I slept for an hour at like 3, hopefully I’ll fall asleep again at some point tonight.”
Colson frowned, “can I help at all?”
A small smile fell upon your face, “sometimes talking helps, but honestly not much else. It’s not that big of a problem, though. I’ve been dealing with this for a while, I’m used to it.”
He looked shocked, “dude, you sleep for a few hours every night! That’s a problem. I don’t even know how you’re still alive.”
“Like you’ve never gone a couple days in a row without sleeping,” you said sarcastically.
“No! I go to sleep late as fuck, but I sleep eventually most nights. You’re on a whole different level.” His tone was slightly defensive, if not concerned, “do I need to get you some pills or something? I can do that.”
Your eyes went wide, “Jesus, Kells, no. I have enough to deal with, I don’t need another addiction on my hands too.”
He chuckled, “I’m just saying it might help. I’m assuming weed does nothing?”
You sighed sadly, “it did for a while, but I think my body got used to it. I just have to wait it out until I inevitably pass out.”
“Well, guess I’ll just bother you until you fall asleep.” He relaxed further into the couch, throwing an arm around your shoulders.
“Colson, you really don’t have to-“
“You won’t let me get you drugs, so I’m gonna stay up with you. It’s the least I can do.” He smiled widely, knowing he would get his way.
“You’re ridiculous, you know that, right?”
Day Twelve
“You think that Captain America has the best character arc? Seriously?”
Your nightly chats with Colson had moved into his room after Baze was woken up by Colson’s loud laughter during a conversation about what type of dogs you’d both be. So, you were sat cross legged on his bed, facing each other in deep conversation.
The man tried to defend his stance to you, “okay, I know everyone loves Tony’s whole asshole to hero thing, but Captain America went from this goody two shoes to this badass criminal and he still got the girl in the end.”
You shook your head, “you’re just wrong in every way. I’m not even saying Iron Man had a better story, but literally every other character developed more than Steve. He wasn’t that badass in the end, and the fact that he went back to get the girl just proves he never really changed all that much. He was static.”
“So, you’re telling me, if we watched every single movie with Captain America in it, you wouldn’t be entertained?” He crossed his arms and leaned backwards, eyeing you challengingly.
You scoffed, “the movies are fine, I just think that Marvel has produced better superheroes with better plotlines.”
“New plan, we’re going to watch every marvel movie in order and then you can tell me that I’m right.” He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV across from his bed.
Rolling your eyes, you moved back to lean against the headrest, legs spread out in front of you, “you’re not right, but I’ll watch them just to see the look on your face when you realize you’re wrong.”
Colson flopped down on the bed next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulder and pulling you so that you were leaning into his side. A yawn escaped his mouth, “if you get tired, let me know.”
You giggled, “I’m always tired, I just can’t sleep. I won’t get offended if you fall asleep though.”
He pulled a face, “I’m not falling asleep.”
About an hour into the movie the slow rise and fall of his chest indicated differently. You chuckled to yourself once you realized he had fallen asleep, turning further into his chest, and allowing yourself to get more comfortable.
Somewhere between 4 and 5 am, you found your eyes finally closing of their own accord, unconsciousness washing over you.
Day 17
Since starting your marvel movie binges with Colson, you’d found yourself getting more sleep. You couldn’t tell if it was from the movies or from Colson, but either way something seemed to be working.
Tonight, however, even your new routine wouldn’t lull you to sleep. You tried every breathing exercise in the book, but nothing seemed to work. Colson had fallen asleep a while ago, his arm wrapped around you as per usual, so you couldn’t talk yourself to sleep.
So, you decided to take a stroll around the house, hoping the small form of physical activity would help. But in order to get out of bed, you would have to find a way out of Colson’s embrace without waking him up.
You slowly and gently grabbed his hand and removed it from your side, laying it on the bed next to you. Then, you sat up slowly, only to be pulled back into his chest, “where’re you going?”
His voice was deep and gravelly, sleepiness very evident. You responded with a whispered, “I can’t sleep, was gonna go walk around.”
He pulled you in closer to him, nuzzling his face into the crown of your head, “but you’re so warm.”
You chuckled, cuddling into the man, “fine, I’ll stay.” You tried to close your eyes and find sleep, but again, none came. Sighing, you accepted that you would be stuck in your current position, realizing there were worse things than being wrapped up in a beautiful boy’s arms.
Day 25
“I know aliens probably exist, but do you think they’d ever take one of us to study?”
Colson chuckled at your question, “like a human in general or, like, you and me?”
“Like you or me. Do you think we’re important enough to be studied?”
He squeezed your waist, “I think you are in desperate need of sleep.”
Laughing, you responded, “I’m serious! And I have been sleeping, thank you very much.”
“Okay, fine. I think if aliens ever came to Earth, they’d probably be more interested in, like, genius billionaires or really dumb people, like people from Florida.”
You slapped his arm, “don’t be mean to Florida.”
You could feel the vibrations from his laughter, making you giggle. “Fine, but my point is they wouldn’t be interested in us unless they’re really into music.”
“Darn,” you huffed.
He raised an eyebrow at you, “you want aliens to take you and study you?”
Balancing yourself on his chest, you lifted yourself up to look down at him, “yes! That would be so fucking cool.”
He shook his head with a laugh, “you’re crazy.”
“Think about it, who else would be able to say they got studied by aliens. And then you’d know that you were important to someone, even if it is just alien scientists.”
Rolling his eyes, Colson pulled you back down into him, your hands still resting on his chest, “I don’t need aliens to know I’m important.”
“Well not all of us can be ubertalented rock stars with millions of fans,” you joked, a teasing smile on your face.
You glanced up to find his eyes trained on you, holding a softer look in them than you had expected, “I didn’t mean that.”
It took a few moments for his words to get processed by your brain, but you immediately dismissed the thought that he could be talking about you specifically. More than likely he was referencing his family in general, which you could be included in.
Day 31
To celebrate a full month in quarantine, the guys had decided to throw an in-house only party, which just meant that everyone had an excuse to drink together more than normal. You were staying mostly sober, knowing that otherwise the boys would most likely break something, most likely themselves.
You watched from your place on the kitchen counter as Rook, Baze, Slim, Dre, Irv, Dub, and Colson played a round of King’s cup.
“Y/N, you have to drink,” Rook called from across the room, “it’s a six.”
“If there’s no women playing then you just skip that card, Rookie.” You called but took a sip from your cup anyways.
Colson whined, “this is boring.” You chuckled as he moved away from the table to come stand by you, the rest of the guys continuing without him. He leaned against the counter next to your dangling leg, letting you run your fingers through his blond hair, “parties are boring now, Y/N.”
You could tell that he was gone, the alcohol having almost full control of him. “When we get out of quarantine, we’ll throw the biggest party ever, Kells,” you said, letting your hand fall to rest on his shoulder. The man grasped your hand in his and moved it back up to the top of his head, silently begging for you to continue. He turned into a cat, practically purring as he leaned into you, “hey, Kells, you tired?”
He shook his head, “no, ‘m gonna stay up with you, remember?”
You laughed softly, “it’s okay, Kells. You should get some sleep; I’ll be okay for a night.”
His arms wrapped around your middle, head burying into your stomach, “I’ll go to sleep if you do.”
“You gotta let me off this counter for that.” This was a side of Colson you rarely saw; the drunk, very cuddly version of Colson. Occasionally he’d cling on to you when he got really tired, but that was in the privacy of his room. Here he was hanging onto you in front of all his friends, though granted they were too drunk to notice anything unusual.
You hopped off the counter, taking on some of Colson’s body weight in order to get him up the stairs and to his room. Truthfully, you planned to leave him in his bed once you got him there, but he had other plans. As soon as you moved to walk away from the bed, he grabbed your arm sleepily, “why are you leaving?”
Running a hand along his jaw softly, you softly said, “I’m gonna go to my room.”
He whined, “you never sleep in your room, stay.”
You bit your lip, unsure how to respond to that, “Kells, you’re drunk, you need some sleep.”
“I can’t sleep without you.” His eyes were glazed over, making his pleading look even more appealing than normal.
Sighing, you muttered, “yes, you can. I’ll be right down the hall,” but he wasn’t taking no for an answer, hand still firmly around your wrist.
“No.”
You rolled your eyes, climbing into the bed next to him, “I’m only doing this because you need to go to sleep.” He hummed in response to that, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tightly into him, leaving no room for you to escape even if you tried.
Day 37
Nights with Colson had slowly turned into every moment with Colson. You woke up together, ate breakfast together, spent time together. You were rarely separated for long, not that either of you minded.
At some point, the line between friends and whatever lied next had gotten blurred, but not fully crossed. You and Colson were touchy and cuddly during the day as well as at night, and everyone in the house was starting to notice it.
Part of you just wanted to kiss him and see what happened, but you knew messing with a situation like this could go very wrong very fast. So, you just left it up to him to figure out where this thing would go, knowing he probably wouldn’t make the first move either.
But as you laid in his arms, listening to his midnight ramblings, you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you took matters into your own hands. You watched his lips move as he spoke, wanting nothing more than to lean up and press your own against them. Of course, you would never actually do it, but it was nice to dream.
There was a lull in the conversation which was spent with your eyes dancing across each other’s face, trying to figure out what to say next. Suddenly, he blurted out, “can I get your advice on something?”
You nodded in response, a soft smile on your face. He continued, “this sounds so stupid, but there’s this girl I’ve been talking to recently and I can’t figure out if she ‘s into me or we’re just really good friends.”
You sat up slightly, perking an eyebrow up, “well what signs has she given you that she’s into you?” Your heart burned, hoping he was talking about you. It was a feeling that had been happening a lot recently whenever you were around him, which was almost all the time.
He sighed, “I mean, we talk like, all the time about everything. And I think she flirts with me, but I’m not completely sure if she’s flirting or she’s just being friendly.”
“Well, what signs say that she’s not into you?” You ask, biting your lip to hide the grin forming on your face.
Colson hesitated, “I mean, none, really. I’m just scared of messing up our friendship, you know?”
You nodded, “well, you’ll never know if you never ask her. I’m sure it’ll work out.”
He was quiet for a long time, clearly turning the advice over in his head, “I would but, with quarantine and everything, I just don’t think it’s the right time. We wouldn’t be able to actually, you know.”
Your heart fell, realizing that there was no possible way he was talking about you. It felt like every bone in your body turned to Jell-o at the realization, a lump forming in your throat. “Right, well, maybe you could invite her over to the house. Or do a cute facetime date or something.”
He nodded but stayed quiet. You fully sat up, swinging your legs off the bed. “Where are you going?” he asked softly.
Something inside of you was slowly crumbling, and you needed to get yourself out of his presence as soon as possible, “I just need to take a walk, I don’t think I’m tired enough to get any form of sleep.”
Colson let out a small “oh,” as you stood up and swiftly left the room, tears forming in your eyes.
You felt silly for letting yourself fall so easily and for thinking that he might have felt the same way. But you could’ve sworn there was something forming between you two.
And how had you never heard of this new girl? How long had that been going on?
So many thoughts swirled around in your head as you made your way downstairs and out to the empty pool deck, pacing the familiar space. You tried to convince yourself that your feelings weren’t as strong as they actually were so that this could somehow be easier, but you knew it wouldn’t work.
The sound of the door sliding open caught your attention, your eyes meeting those all too familiar blue ones. “You okay?” he asked, leaning against the wall of the house. You flashed him a fake smile with a nod. “This doesn’t have anything to do with what I just-”
“No, no,” you cut him off, “I’m just restless right now, needed to get some energy out.”
He nodded, watching you cautiously, “I’m actually super tired, so I’m gonna get some sleep. I’ll see you in a few?”
You nodded, knowing full well you had no intention of getting back into his bed, “yeah, goodnight.” You turned your head to the ground, studying the cement below your feet.
The door opened and shut, but when you looked back up, Colson was still standing outside, watching you. “I don’t know why I said that. There isn’t a girl in quarantine. Well, I mean, there is, but we wouldn’t not be able to see each other.”
Your head was spinning, trying to make sense of whatever he was saying. He kept talking, “I got nervous and chickened out and then you left and I felt like an idiot.” You looked up to him, confusion evident on your face as he continued on the borderline of rambling, “so I’m just gonna throw this out there and whatever happens, happens.”
You stared at him blankly, not fully processing his words or what was happening.
“Would you wanna go on a date with me? Or, like, whatever kind of date we can pull off here?”
Your eyes went wide in shock, the rollercoaster you had just been on emotionally twisting your mind. You didn’t speak for a few moments, making Colson nervous, but you finally got out a stuttered, “yes.”
He sighed in relief, “god I feel like such a teenager right now.”
You came back to your senses, narrowing your eyes at him, “do you realize the emotional turmoil you just put me through? I feel like I’m crazy!”
He chuckled, moving towards you, and wrapping his arms around your waist, “I know, I’m an asshole. But it was worth it, right?”
“I was literally rethinking my entire life out here,” you pouted, leaning into his touch.
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
You rolled your eyes, “look who’s all Mr. confident now.”
The vibrations of his laugh shook your own body, “well, you said yes. This would be a completely different story if you had said no. Then I would be the one rethinking my entire life.”
You smirked teasingly, “I could always change my mind.”
He shook his head with a chuckle, “shut up.” His lips met yours, one hand reaching up to softly hold your jaw. You melted into the kiss, your arms moving to wrap around his neck loosely.
You pulled away slowly, a smile spread on your face, “this almost makes not being able to sleep worth it.”
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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years
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Would You Rather?
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Synopsis: Tom mentions his crush on you during an interview and you respond
Authors note: this was requested by anon who gave a generous donation to the BLM fund. Thank you!
Masterlist
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“Would you rather fight a horse sized duck or a duck sized horse?” Tom read off a card as he adjusted the collar on his blue jumpsuit.
“I don’t know what situation I’d be in where I’d have to fight either of these animals.” He started as he looked at the camera. “I feel like I’d rather fight duck sized horse because that’s pretty small. I could probably defeat that. But a horse sized duck could bite me, you know?”
The crew nodded in agreement and Tom moved on to the next question.
“Would you rather lose the ability to read or the ability to speak?” Tom scratched behind his head as he thought about it.
“I barely have the ability to read as it is.” He laughed. “I’m an actor, so I feel like I need the ability to speak.”
He dropped that card on the couch and picked up the next one.
“Would you rather have Captain Marvel or Black Cat as your girlfriend?” He smiled as he read.
“I don’t know if they mean as my girlfriend or as Spider-Man’s girlfriend but I without a doubt would pick Black Cat.” Tom said confidently. “I was so upset when they cast Y/n L/n as the Black Cat and didn’t connect her movie to the Spider-Man universe.”
“Why were you upset?” A crew member asked.
“Because I’m in love with Y/n.” Tom laughed like it was obvious. “I must’ve seen every movie of hers 100 times. Especially the Black Cat suit because she looked so freaking hot in that.”
“She really did.” A female lighting director nodded in agreement.
“Right? If Black Cat was Spider-Man’s girlfriend and Y/n was my girlfriend I’d be a very happy man.” Tom sighed dreamily and toyed with the card as he day dreamed about you.
That video went up a few days later and made the usual headlines. You were well aware of Tom as an actor but completely unaware of his crush on you. Your heart stopped that first time you saw the headline:
“Watch Tom Holland gush over his celebrity crush, Y/n L/n.”
And yes, you did watch.
You watched many times in fact. The part where he said he was in love with you was your personal favorite. After getting sent the video by all your friends and fans, you decided to do something about it.
“@tomholland1996 you look pretty hot in your suit as well. And out of the suit. And in regular clothes. Damn dude, you’re pretty hot.”
You posted the tweet with a devious smile and shut your phone off. Whatever the world had to say about it, they could wait until the next morning.
~
You were woken up early the next morning by your phone ringing. You wiped the sleep from your eyes but kept them shut as you held your phone to your ear.
“Hello?” You said groggily.
“Y/n? It’s your manager. I have some exciting news.” Your manager sounded giddy on the other side of the line.
“So exciting that you had to wake me up?” You laughed sleepily.
“I don’t know.” She humored you. “Do you think the Russo Brothers emailing me and asking you to come to set is exciting?”
You sat up quickly as your eyes flew open.
“What?” You shrieked in excitement.
“They said they’ve been rewriting the script for Infinity War for the past few weeks and it’s finally finished. They added a scene with the Black Cat.” She said in a sing song voice. Your breath hitched in your throat as the news flooded into your ears.
“You’re kidding.” You gasped.
“Nope. Can you drive down to set at 1? I sent you the address.” She told you.
“I’ll be there.” You nodded as a wide smile spread across your face. Your manager hung up and you threw down your phone.
“AHHHH.” You screamed in excitement and immediately got dressed. It was finally happening.
You were finally going to be in the MCU.
~
You arrived at the address promptly before 1 and were led to set by an assistant. The Russo Brothers met you by the trailers and introduced themselves.
“Great to meet you.” Joe shook your hand, then Anthony. “How much did your manager tell you?”
“Just that you added a scene with the Black Cat.” You nodded as you relayed all the information you had.
“Right. We decided to add the Black Cat to the MCU now that her character has been established in your solo movie.” Anthony explained. “We had to keep it a secret until now to keep it from getting leaked. We have big plans for your character, starting with this movie.”
You smiled gratefully at the two of them and nodded enthusiastically.
“Thank you so much for the opportunity. I’m so honored to be here. What are the plans?” You asked as you twisted your fingers nervously.
“For starters, meet your new boyfriend.” Joe chuckled and turned around and pointed.
“Boyfriend?” You asked and followed his finger.
“Tom, get over here.” He called. Your eyes widened when you realized what name he called and you looked up to see Tom jogging over to you.
“What’s up guys?” He looked at the Russo bothers before his eyes landed on you. His smile faded and he blinked a few times to register the sight in front of him.
“Hi.” His face flushed and he smiled shyly at you.
“Hi.” You smiled back, still not believing what was happening.
“I’m- I’m Tom.” He fumbled over his words as he held out his hand.
“I know.” You laughed softly as you shook his hand.
“Right, sorry.” He shook his head in embarrassment. “Whats uh, what’s she doing here?”
“Change of plans.” Anthony smirked as he handed you and Tom a few pages of the script.
“You’re giving me a script?” Tom asked in disbelief as he ran his fingers over the crisp white pages.
“Yes. Don’t make us regret it.” Joe said sternly.
“Yes sir.” Tom nodded eagerly and began to flip through it.
“Peter is going to get thrown by one of Thanos’s men and Black Cat is going to catch him.” Anthony began to explain. “She saw the spaceship, came to help, and winds up in space with Tony, Steven, and Peter.”
“That’s awesome.” Tom breathed. “This looks really cool.”
You were so wrapped up in the excitement of holding a real Marvel script that you had forgotten the brothers original statement.
“Hold on. You said he was my boyfriend.” You looked at Joe and Anthony skeptically.
“Boyfriend?” Tom perked up from his script and looked between the three of you. “Me boyfriend? To her? Please say yes. I’m fine either way it’s just, I would really like you to say yes right now.
“Yes Tom.” Joe laughed. “Right as they’re falling in love, poof.”
“Dust.” Anthony finished. You and Tom shared a look, evidently impressed.
“That’s brutal.” You remarked.
“It is.” Joe agreed. “Until they’re reunited in Endgame in a similar fashion to the way they met.”
“And the crowd goes wild.” Anthony said slowly. You got chills just thinking about it and smiled as you rubbed your arms.
“I like it.” You nodded and Tom bit back a smile.
“Me too.” He said softly. “I like it a lot.”
“Great.” Anthony rubbed his hands together. “Rehearsal starts tomorrow.”
The brothers walked away, leaving you and Tom alone with each other.
“They don’t play around over here. I just got cast and already I’m on set.” You chuckled and shyly looked at Tom. He was so much cuter in person, the camera didn’t do justice to his freckles. Tom nodded and gave you a half smile.
“Yeah, they’re pretty unorthodox over here. I’d tell you you’d get used to it, but I’d be lying.” Tom shook his head and gave you a once over. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“I can’t believe you told the world I looked hot in my catsuit but never dmed me to ask for my number.” You shrugged easily and Toms jaw dropped at your boldness.
“In my defense, you are way too cool to be interested in me. At least I knew my place.” He shot back and you laughed.
“Didn’t you see my tweet last night?” You asked coyly as you raised an eyebrow.
“What tweet? The one about you calling me hot? The one that I sent to every single contact in my phone, including my dentist?” He asked with furrowed eyebrows. “No, I don’t think I saw it.”
“Funny.” You folded your arms and gave him a sultry smile. “I never checked if you responded.”
“I’d rather if you didn’t. It wasn’t very smooth.” He admitted.
“Hey, Tom?”
“Yes?” He looked at you.
“Would you rather continue talking in the middle of a crowded set or go somewhere secluded to run our lines?” You made a callback to his interview that started it all and he noticed.
“Run lines please. I need to quit while I’m ahead.” He eyed you with uncertainty as he thought about his words. “I was ahead, right?”
“Yeah.” You smirked and linked your arm through his. “You were ahead.”
~
“Kid, what are you doing here?” Tony asked as he craned his neck to see Peter.
“On a field trip to MOMAAAAAA.” Peter yelled as he was flung into the sky. He flew through the air like a rag doll until he landed in your arms. You breathed heavily, you in your masks and suits.
“Hey there.” You smirked at Peter as you held him bridal style.
“Hi, I’m Peter. You’re really pretty.” He said through heavy pants. “Can you pretend I didn’t just say that?”
“Hi Peter.” Your wine colored lips tugged into a smile. “Should you really be telling me your name? I could be dangerous.” You pouted as you set him down.
“Oh, right.” Peter got back on his feet and brushed off his suit. “In that case, I’m not Peter. I’m…Pedro.”
“Mm, Pedro. I like it.” You winked and saw one of Thanos’s minions coming at him from behind. “Watch out.”
You spun around and kicked the minion in the face before hooking your legs around his neck and knocking him to the ground. One swift punch to the throat knocked him unconscious. You stood up and waltzed back over to Peter as you dusted off your hands.
“Woah, where’d you learn to do that?” The eyes of Peters mask widened as you impressed him with your skills.
“A woman’s got to protect herself, right?” You shrugged and popped gum in your mouth before eyeing him up and down. “And apparently, I have to protect you too.”
“I’m totally fine with that.” Peter answered honestly. “Do you have a name?”
You wrapped your arms around Peters neck and blew a bubble with your gum.
“Black Cat.” You said once it popped. The sent of bubble gum filled Peters nostrils and his knees weakened.
“That explains the catsuit.” He gulped. “What, no tail?”
“Tails are so cliche.” You whined and stroked his covered cheek with your hand. “I’m a cat burglar, not a halloween costume.”
“If this is how you go out on a normal day, I’d love to see what you wear in Halloween.” Peter attempted time flirt back with the mysterious woman distracting him from his mission. You leaned forward, close enough that your lips were almost touching.
“I bet you would.” You whispered. You patted his cheek and turned away swiftly, whipping his face with your long gray ponytail. Peter let out a throaty groan as the scent of your perfume enveloped him. You walked around him in a circle, dragging your fingernail along his shoulders as you went.
“Since you know my name is Peter, it’s only fair you tell me yours.” He said as he turned his head to look at you. You paused, standing directly behind him.
“You really wanna know my name?” You challenged.
“That’s what I just said.” Peter sassed you. You smirked and took a step towards Peter so you were pressed against his back, gripping his waist tightly.
“Hardy.” You said right in his ear and he shivered. “Felicia Hardy. I’ve seen you around, Spiderman. You’re pretty good.”
You finished your circle and stood in front of him now. He was grateful for his mask, otherwise you could see just how red he had gone. His heart was racing out of his chest just from the look of you. The white fur cuffs and skintight black suit were making it impossible for him to focus.
“Just pretty good?” He questioned. “I’ve taken down a lot of bad guys.”
“Mm, but never me.” You taunted as you twirled your gray hair around your finger, wanting to get a rise out of you.
“You’re a bad guy?”
“Depends on your definition of bad guy.” You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and let your teeth drag. “Do you think I’m bad?”
“Depends on your definition of bad.” Peter straightened up.
“This has been fun.” You smirked and tossed your ponytail over your shoulder. Nice talking to you, Peter.”
“You too.” Peter smiled under his mask until a Boulder was flung your way. “Look out!”
Peter shot a web at you and pulled you flushed against his chest. He pulled you to the ground and rolled on top of you as the boulder went over your heads. It was your turn to be blushing as you stared at Peter in amazement.
“How did you-“
“Spidey senses.” He answered before you could finish your question. He could feel his body beginning to lift into the air with you following. “Oh no.”
“What’s happening?” You asked as you and Peter lifted into the air. You clutched him tightly to keep from falling and Peter held on to you for support.
“Mr Stark!” He yelled. “I’m being beamed up!”
“And cut!” Anthony yelled. The wires holding you and Tom up slowly lowered you back down until you were back on the ground. Tom rolled off of you and fell on his back, breathing heavily from the scene. He pulled his mask off and rested it on his tummy.
“Whew.” He panted and looked at you with a tired smile. “Great work.”
You smiled back at Tom, still flushing from the flirty scene. You had done that scene many times from rehearsal all the way to production, but never that well. Your heart usually stopped racing by now, but something about the way he was looking at you kept it in rhythm.
“You too.” You complimented him as you sat up. You helped each other up and pulled each other into a sweaty hug.
“That’s a wrap guys. Great work today.” Joe announced. “Before you leave, I have the official version of the script. This is what we’re going to be filming tomorrow. We couldn’t give it to you until now in case someone spoiled it.”
Joe glared at Tom as he handed out the final scripts.
“I hate it here.” Tom mumbled as his ability to keep secrets was once again under fire.
“Great, thank you.” You smiled at Joe before he walked away. Tom came over to you, hitting his rolled up script against his hand.
“Do you want to go over our lines for tomorrow?” Tom asked.
“Sure. I’ll meet you there after I drop off my costume.” You told him.
Twenty minutes later, your wig and costume were returned to the costume department. You wiped off your makeup and changed into comfortable clothes before heading to Tom’s. You let out a shaky breath as you walked towards his trailer. You’d been in there a hundred times since production began a few months ago, but today felt different. There was something in the air between you and Tom that neither of you could ignore. You knocked on his door and heard your heartbeat in your ears as you waited for him to open. Tom gave you a shy smile as he opened the door of his trailer door for you and stepped aside.
“Sorry, it’s a little messy.” He apologized as he shut the door behind him. You looked around at Toms trailer, noting the clothes hanging off the ceiling fan and the pictures of the two of you taped to his mirror. You walked over to the mirror and touched the picture with a light smile. It was a strip of picture taken in a photo booth a few weeks into production. The photos went from you and Tom smiling, to laughing, to you kissing his cheek, to him kissing your cheek as you laughed. You had spent your only day off together, hanging out a a fair until the sun was coming up. After getting stuck at the top of the Ferris wheel for 15 minutes and clinging to Tom every time it shook, you ran to the photo booth to immortalize the night. You had the exact same strip of photos on your dresser at home, but you never noticed that he displayed them so proudly.
“It’s very you in here.” You looked at him over your shoulder and shot him a smile.
“Thanks?” He bit his lip in confusion.
“Don’t worry. It was a compliment.” You said pointedly and walked back towards him. “Should we look at the script?” You suggested and he nodded.
“Yeah. Here, take a seat.” He sat on his bed and patted the spot next to you. You sat next to him and folded your legs, beginning to flip through the script.
“This looks the same as the last script.” You realized when you recognized the words. Tom flipped through his script and came to a halt when he read something unexpected.
“It’s not.” He said with a dry mouth.
“What’s different?” You looked up at him in confusion.
“There’s a kiss.” He looked you to and saw your face go pale.
“A kiss?” You stammered and went back to your script to find what he was talking about.
“Right here.” Peter held out his script and pointed to the part. “Felicia kisses Peter before she turns to dust.” He read.
“So this is what they didn’t want you spoiling.” You laughed nervously as you read the stage direction over and over.
“They might’ve made a good call on that one.” Tom chuckled softly. “I’m really tempted right now to post a picture of the script on twitter just to rub it in everyone’s face.”
You looked up from the script and gave him a fond smile.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You said softly.
“I’m sorry.” He apologized. “It’s not everyday you get cast opposite your celebrity crush.”
“How do you think I felt when I got cast as your girlfriend?” You pulled your knees to your chest and rested your chin on top.
“You...liked me?” Tom asked quietly. He didn’t let himself believe it, not wanting to get his hopes up.
“For a long time now.” You admitted. Production was about to end anyway. If he didn’t feel the same, there was nothing you could do about it, but at least he knew.
Tom blinked a few times as he registered what you said and smiled widely.
“I’m really glad I got to know you these past few months. You’re a lot cooler in person.” Tom said sincerely. “Honestly, I have no idea how I’m supposed to act beside you tomorrow knowing I have to kiss you.”
“Tom.” You said breathlessly at his words.
“I’m already a nervous wreck. My mind is in sicko mode right now. I can’t even read.” He put his script down and sighed.
“I think I might be able to calm you down.”
“How?” He wondered. He looked up at you for answers, but was met with a kiss. You tilted your head to the side and pressed your lips against his feeling his eyelashes brush your cheek as his eyes fluttered shut. Tom brought his hand to the side of your face for support and gently rubbed his thumb against your cheek. You smiled against his lips and sat up a little to get a better angle and kissed him deeply. You pulled away to catch your breath and rested your forehead against his. The only sound in the trailer was from your heavy breathing.
“You’re really smart.” He said quietly. “I feel significantly calmer.”
“I’m happy to hear that.” You chuckled softly. Tom pulled away and took on of your hands in his, rubbing gentle circles on the back of it.
“I have a question for you.” He said.
“Go for it.” You bit your bottom lip as you both spoke in hushed tones.
“Would you rather,” he began with a coy smile, “kiss me again or go on a date with me?”
“I can’t have both?” You pouted and a wicked flame ignited in Toms eyes. He hooked his pinky under your chin and moved your face towards his, leaning close enough that his lips brushed yours when he spoke.
“I think I can make an exception.” He whispered before kissing you again.
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infernalrevenge · 3 years
Text
Hey, Kiss Me? (Don't Mind If I Do)
Fandom: Resident Evil 8: Village
Pairing: Daniela Dimitrescu x Reader (Gender Neutral)
Rating: G
Summary: Daniela is used to being the flirty one, blowing kisses and making a pass at anyone who caught her attention. It just never occurred to her that the tables could turn on her.
Notes: [slams fists on the table] LET ME FLIRT WITH THE CUTE VAMPIRE GIRL. If RE8 had a dating sim spin-off in some alternate universe where Capcom REALLY wanted to capitalize on the game's success, one of my runs would definitely involve romancing the youngest Dimitrescu. For anyone else who feels me on this, this is for you too. I also tried writing this in 2nd person POV for a change. Hope it still turned out alright, it's my first time writing this way. Enjoy!
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You had been working for the Duke for quite a while now. He took you in in your time of need and had been made an apprentice of sorts in the art of trading and bargaining.
You've met your fair share of oddities while settled in the village and running errands, including but not limited to: A man who can control metal and electricity on a whim, a talking doll who lives under a waterfall, and the numerous wolf-man hybrids that lurked around the vicinity. They were what most may consider crass company -- at least, that was what the Lady of the castle would say.
Lady Alcina Dimitrescu was a frequent customer and a business partner of the Duke's, helping her in the sale of her vintage "wine" to intrigued buyers. This also meant that the two of you were frequent visitors to the castle on the other side of the village proper -- a vast estate that was entirely too large for just four women to occupy (even if one of those women happened to be nine feet tall).
Miss Bela was always the more polite and civil of Dimitrescu's daughters, offering a simple greeting whenever you would come by. When it was appropriate, she was always at her mother's side and paying attention to how meetings between the older adults would proceed, like a student eager to learn from the best. You figured that, as the oldest sibling, she might take over the business someday. You weren't sure exactly how that would happen, given what you knew of the family, but you really shouldn't prod anyway. At least, not now.
Miss Cassandra was more closed off, so to speak. It always seemed like she would barely acknowledge your presence in the castle, talking only when it was necessary and immediately leaving the room once she was allowed to. However, you would feel a prickling in the back of their neck when she wasn't around, like you were being watched from the background -- prey at the mercy of their predator. But every time you turned around, there would be no one there, not even a sound to indicate escape. A part of you thought you might have been pulled into some unwitting game, wondering what would happen if you did catch the perpetrator in the act. You weren't sure you really wanted to find out.
Then, there was Miss Daniela, whose attention seemed to lie in... other prospects. Like Bela, she offered warm greetings whenever you would stop by the property. Unlike her sisters though, who never really bothered with the Duke's apprentice, she always tried to entertain herself with your company. You had a friendly enough rapport with her that you could relax in her presence as well, so it was nice. You figured it was mostly because they rarely ever got outside company, and since the sisters stay in the castle a lot of the time, she always welcomed you with enthusiasm. And a smile. And a wink. And some passing remark about how nicely you dressed that day and that you must have been trying to impress her.
"I could just eat you right up," she would say with a giggle and a playful growl.
You've never been too sure what to make of her -- she always seemed to have her head in the clouds, only coming back down at the behest of her mother or when her sisters were persistent enough. You also never knew how to respond to her flirting apart from flustered silence, which only seemed to spur her on even more. It was like she was just trying to get a reaction from you, making a game of it. It was far different from the one her older sister seemed to be keen on playing, but a game nonetheless -- how far could she push your buttons and make you implode from embarrassment?
Honestly, it seemed to be working.
You had been well-socialized thanks to your training under the Duke, and of course the man himself was charming and likeable so a part of you liked to think it may have rubbed off as he raised you. But that was when it came to formalities and negotiations -- maybe banter, if you could really push it. You've thought about responding earnestly, but flirting was another ball game all on its own, one that you don't really play on purpose, and you frequently found yourself floundering at the face of it. Especially when that face was as pretty as Daniela's.
It wasn't like you thought she liked you that way or anything -- you genuinely thought she said all those things for fun, to amuse herself with how hot you got or how you would sheepishly shrink in on yourself. But you weren't going to deny that she was cute and that you may have just a small crush on her. Just maybe. Not that you would ever admit that out loud.
----------
One winter day, the Duke entrusted you with meeting with Lady Dimitrescu on your own. She was informed of his absence beforehand -- something about attending to Lord Heisenberg's business -- and so you were left to take care of updates. In the meantime, you kept yourself busy in the guest area, perusing the dusty books in shelves that definitely needed some cleaning. It seemed like the castle could never have enough help.
As soon as you were left alone, with only your notepad and thoughts to keep you company, you felt the hairs at the back of your neck stand. You slowly looked to the side, eyes trained on a dark corner of the room. The light from the fireplace didn't quite reach that spot, making it quite the hiding place. Was something (or someone) moving from there? Are your eyes playing paranoid tricks on you? Was it Miss Cassandra playing her one-sided game again? Perhaps... you shouldn't interfere then.
You turned your attention back to the book shelf, looking high above you, wanting to take a closer look at the selection. You dragged a stool and a few stacked cushions to the shelves and slipped your shoes off, praying to whoever was out there that Lady Dimitrescu wouldn't find you like this. Oh, the scolding I'd get from Duke about manners -- you'd never hear the end of it. Stepping carefully onto the plush surface -- a few feet from the ground -- and finding your balance, you start to pick something out that had an interesting title.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Y/N," a voice echoed in the room, catching you off guard.
You jumped in surprise and lost your footing, falling backward as the cushions slipped from under you. Oh yeah, this was gonna hurt! But before you could make contact with the hardwood floor, a hand reached out and grabbed you by the waist, catching you in a rather precarious position.
"You could've hurt that cute little ass of yours," the voice cooed. Daniela seemed to have materialized from out of nowhere, wearing a mischievous grin and holding onto you as she practically hovered over you. Oh god, she was so close, you don't know where your body heat ended and hers started.
"Miss Daniela," you greeted, finally finding your voice. "Um, thanks for the save."
She pulled you up to standing on the stool and raised an eyebrow at you, smirking amusedly, "And what exactly were you doing so high up in the shelves? Aren't you supposed to be waiting here like a good little one?"
"I was just... looking at the books," you replied softly, "And falling for you, I suppose," you added as a joke, chuckling as you shook off your nerves from earlier. You were a little surprised she didn't start off with that line honestly, given how easy--
Daniela's smirk dropped at your response, eyes widening as she stiffened. Uh oh... did you say something wrong?
She blinked at you, mouth hanging open slightly as if she was trying to find the words. It looked like she gave up though, just looking away and stepping off the stool. Were you imagining that her cheeks just turned pink?
"Mother's waiting for you at the meeting room," was all she said before quickly making her exit.
It took a while before the wheels in your head started turning again.
----------
The next time you came to the castle with the Duke, it was a warm day in spring. On these occasions, sometimes Lady Dimitrescu would be more open to a different venue of meeting than inside the castle -- "for a change of scenery," as she would say. The two of you met her and her daughters at the main garden at the back of the property, the sun shining generously on all forms of life.
When Daniela spotted you, she seemed almost caught unaware, but she quickly regained composure, throwing a smirk and wink your way -- her usual greeting. You couldn't help but duck down shyly, but nonetheless waved and smiled back.
The older adults took their business elsewhere, leaving you alone with the daughters at the lobby; well, more like a daughter, since Cassandra had already left before you can say another word and Bela had excused herself soon after. It was normal for you to be in the company of the redhead at this point. Not that she seemed to mind.
"Been a while since you've been back here. Betcha missed me, huh?" Daniela said, a charming smile curled on her lips. She stood next to you, seeming intent on leading you on a little walk around. Hey, you'd take any excuse to spend time with her.
You laughed softly, "Quite, Miss Daniela."
"You're still sticking to those formalities, Y/N? Come on, you can drop the 'Miss'." She sidled up closer to you, nudging your side. "You can even skip 'Daniela' altogether and just call me yours."
You unconsciously covered your mouth as you glanced her way -- she was being more straightforward than usual. You don't know if you were just trying to hide the blood rushing to your cheeks or trying to stop yourself from smiling too widely, but seeing the smug look on the other's face, you knew she succeeded yet again in flustering you.
"What's wrong? Did summer come early? You're looking kinda warm," she teased, bending down slightly to your face level. "Then again, you are hot enough for the both of us." Damn, she was too good at this. "You'd give the sun a run for its money, honey."
You took a few moments to collect yourself, standing up straighter and clearing your throat. Your eyes looked up to meet hers, showing a half-smile as you spoke with as smooth of a delivery as you can muster, "I'd always thought you would be the sun's rival, given how easily you brighten up my day."
Daniela nearly tripped when she took another step, only managing to catch herself on a nearby bench.
"Are you--"
"I'm fine! I'm fine, just, uh... stubbed my toe on something. Stupid rock."
There were no rocks on the path you two were walking -- unless one counted the flat rock ground. (It didn't.)
The rest of the day carried on as it normally would -- Daniela distracting you from the uneasy feeling of being watched from a proper walk with her usual demeanor, batting her eyelashes and telling you how she simply must teach you to dance some time. "Maybe then you'll learn to loosen up around me." But in return, you would sometimes reply with your own quips -- "Well I wouldn't be opposed to being closer to you, Miss Daniela." You weren't about to question where this newfound confidence came from; you may as well own it, right?
It was only after that visit, replaying the day in your head like you wanted to remember it for as long as you could, that a realization came to you -- the way her cheeks tinged pink and averted her gaze, how she was rendered speechless whenever you replied in the same way that was usually expected of her...
She's not used to being flirted back to.
Her self-esteem allowed her to accept most straightforward compliments with grace, so flattery did not faze her in the slightest -- but when it came to using disarming words? When charm and wit were used right back at her?
She floundered almost as much as you did.
Suddenly, you weren't just a prop in the game anymore -- you knew how to play it now. You knew uttering such sweet (and occasionally cheesy) phrases could make the youngest Dimitrescu blush harder than a maiden being courted. And by god, did she look adorable when she did.
You kind of understood why she did all that now -- watching someone get flustered and knowing you were the cause of it was fun. It was weirdly thrilling seeing her react like that, but then again you might be confusing that feeling with different kind of fluttering in your chest whenever you were alone with Daniela. Who knows?
One thought lingered at the back of your mind though: How long would it take before one of you broke and asked the other on a real date?
.
.
.
(Cassandra materialized behind Daniela as you bade her farewell for the day. She had been observing the two of you interact for a while, monitoring the redhead's "progress". She knocked her sister out of her faraway thoughts with a smack to the head. "So are you gonna admit you like them yet?"
Daniela seemed almost offended at the insinuation, "I would nev-- I mean how dare-- I don't like-- they're just-- I--"
The brunette only raised an eyebrow.
"They're..." She thought back to you, that cute little smile you wore whenever she tried to flirt with you, and how you suddenly rose to the challenge of using her own tactics against her earlier. It was kind of hot. "Okay, I guess. They're okay. They're fine." Quite fine. "That's all I'm gonna say."
"Suuuure...")
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Why do you hate Kenny so much? No hate, I don’t like him either. I'm curious for your reasons :3
Ugh, Kenny... okay. 
So, when I say I hate Kenny, I am more so referring to S2 Kenny above S1 Kenny. I don’t love S1 Kenny, either, but compared to his S2 counterpart, he’s much more tolerable... though that’s not saying much. He’s still an annoying bastard most of the time in S1 unless you kiss his ass, but...
Look, I get it. Kenny from a storytelling and character standpoint is interesting. He goes through a whole bunch of bullshit, he has a fantastic voice actor who can really sell him, he’s an important character for two seasons and that leaves a lot of room for him to grow.... and if you love him, cool. I’m not here to judge you or tell you ya can’t love him-- I’m not an asshole. 
What I don’t get, though, are the ride-or-die Kenny stans who act like Kenny has never done anything wrong ever, or that if he does do something bad, there’s always an excuse for it. 
What’s even more annoying is that there’s always an excuse for Kenny when he behaves badly, but if another character does something similar and they share a similar trauma to him? Everyone says “fuck you” to that character, but for Kenny, it’s “No, you just don’t get it, Kenny’s been through so much trauma and pain and he lost his family--” 
There’s always an excuse for Kenny, y’know? 
And I’ll be honest... I don’t get it.
To me, Kenny’s a prick who refuses to compromise for the better of the group that he treats like shit, he’s uncomfortably possessive of Clementine and AJ, and he’s dangerous. By the time I get to ep5 of S2, I wanna get as far away from him as fucking possible. I don’t want him around Clementine and AJ, and I sure as hell don’t want him raising them-- I don’t care what ANF says, that “nice” Kenny is just a glorified fanservice version of Kenny, not the Kenny that’s portrayed in S2. 
And yeah, I hear you-- “No! Kenny isn’t a prick! Everything he does, he does for Clementine and AJ! He loves them and would never hurt them on purpose! He’s lost everything, including his family! It’s everyone else that sucked!”
Uh-huh, and I argue that Kenny doesn’t give a shit about anyone that doesn’t directly benefit him, or aren’t his family or Clementine and AJ, two children that he clings onto in such an uncomfortable manner it’s... ugh. 
Seriously, if he cared about the group and their survival, he’d be willing to compromise but no, it’s always his way or fuck you. No, Clementine is staying here, fuck you. No, we’re escaping even if we don’t have a plan and it gets half of us killed, fuck you. No, we’re going to Wellington even though it might be bullshit and we literally have no food left to keep AJ alive but there’s baby formula back at Howe’s, fuck you. 
And if Clementine doesn’t side with him? He gets so fucking angry with her, yelling that he needed her back there and she embarrassed him in front of everyone and he outta slap her for talkin’ the way she does and I just-- 
And then don’t even get me started with the whole Sarita thing. Like, she only exists to die so that Kenny can go through this shit again. And I get it, I’d be pissed, too. And really, Bonnie’s the dumbass who thought it’d be a good idea for Clementine to go over there while Kenny’s armed and grieving. 
But the thing is Kenny blames EVERYTHING on the 11-year-old. I’m sorry, Kenny, but uh... Where were you? No really, when Sarita was wandering and got bit, you were nowhere in sight. Where were you? Is that it? Do you feel better blaming the literal child for what happened rather than look at your role? 
Now, to his credit, Kenny DOES actually apologize for his behavior here and it feels sincere... however, that apology doesn’t do much when he doesn’t get better and grow from it. 
In fact, the last time I replayed S2, I was playing with the random number generator-- RNG. Well, because of this, I was unable to convince Kenny to rejoin the group when they’re all camping. 
And do you know what happens when Kenny doesn’t rejoin the group?
Y’know when Mike offers Arvo some booze, and Arvo has a breakdown because he’s suffering from the loss of his sister and being forced at gunpoint to lead this group to a hideout with food, and the group tie him up in the cold and leave him? 
Yeah, Kenny comes over and beats Arvo unconscious. 
Why?
He was making noise. 
...I don’t care what you think of Arvo, and I don’t care what excuse you have for Kenny’s behavior here-- It isn’t enough, and I want to get Clem and AJ the hell away from him. 
“But Kenny would never do that to Clem or AJ--”
That’s not good enough. His solution to a kid crying because he’s in pain is to knock him unconscious because he’s being noisy. And then he wonders why Arvo was so desperate to leave and even willing to shoot Clementine. 
Look, I don’t like Arvo either, but really? Kenny constantly abusing this kid is fucked but because it’s Arvo, everyone’s like “Well...” 
I can’t with S2 Kenny. Again, if you understand that Kenny’s behavior isn’t justified and still love him because he’s a fascinating character study? Great! And I mean that sincerely! I’m happy that you enjoy his character arc over the two seasons. I wish I could, too, but he makes me miserable every time I go back to S2. 
He’s dangerous, he’s scary, and in my opinion, the ending where Clementine and AJ walk out into the woods with him is the worst ending you can get. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to diss anyone who sees that as their canon ending, but that’s just how I feel. 
Honestly, I could probably write an entire fucking essay on all my gripes with S2 Kenny but I just don’t have the time or energy right now. Maybe one day I’ll do a deep dive into Kenny and share all my personal feelings but for right now...
In conclusion, the reasons I have for disliking Kenny the way I do are personal and based on my experience playing these games over the years. My opinion of him has not gotten better, only worse. 
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pretend-writer · 3 years
Text
Down Below (Chapter 69)
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Summary: After being sent down on Earth with the other prisoners from the Ark, Y/N Reyes faces series of events and learns about survival. With new things happening around her, she is now starting a new chapter in her life.
Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader, John Murphy x reader, Raven Reyes x sister!reader
Word Count: 2.6k words
Warning: swearing, violence, hallucinations
✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤
The sound of shuffling woke me up, realizing that the last thing I remember was having an argument with Bellamy. Slowly opening my eyes, I saw a figure’s back towards me as they were digging through some stuff.
‘W-where are we?’ I mumbled, still trying to figure out why I was inside a building when we were in the woods earlier.
‘Y/N, you’re up.’ Echo turned around as she heard me, quickly kneeling next to me.
My thoughts automatically went to her and Bellamy, imagining the two of them kissing up in space; definitely not something I wanted to wake up to. Trying to get up, I felt aches everywhere in my body followed by a pounding in my head.
Hearing me wince, Echo spoke gently. ‘You’re in no shape to be moving around. The force field nearly killed you. Luckily, Jackson saved you just in time.
‘Yeah, lucky.’ I murmured, hopefully quiet enough that she didn’t hear me. That wasn’t the case as I knew she heard me. With a worried face, she looked at me.
‘I’m sorry Y/N.’ Echo blurted, biting her lip as she felt embarrassed. The tension I felt between us, I knew where she was going with this conversation. ‘He never mentioned about you. And the kiss... it just happened. I swear I didn’t know anything.’
As I sat up, I tried to avoid eye contact with her. I knew it wasn’t entirely her fault, she wouldn’t have known better. Echo was in a different clan before Praimfaya, It was not like Bellamy and I announced our relationship as if it was some big celebration.
Not that any of that mattered, really. After all, Bellamy was the one that committed to our relationship and broke the trust between us. Even with that logic in my head, I felt some type of way towards Echo.
‘I don’t care anymore.’ I lied, mostly to convince myself to forget and move on but it was hard when people constantly reminded me of Bellamy and the things he had done. Even seeing him every single day hurt me, of course it was hard to forget. ‘Just forget it okay?’
‘No, that’s not right and I want to apologize to you personally. I hope you kno-’
Loud shouting was heard from outside, Echo and I quickly turned to where the voice was coming from. As I got on my feet, Echo shook her head. ‘Y/N, you’re recovering and nearly died. You need to rest.’
Knowing that it was John screaming from outside, I knew I had to help him. ‘I’ll be fine.’
Leaving the room, I went outside to check what was going on. My jaw immediately dropped, looking around the beautiful castle and the amazing atmosphere that surrounded it.
‘Woah.’ A word escaped my mouth as I saw how empty the place was, despite how astonishing and new everything seemed. How was all of this nice things built here but there were no signs of people anywhere? Something didn’t add up.
My mind shifted when I heard John yelling again, forgetting as I was distracted from the beautiful environment. I rushed towards his voice, revealing him and Bellamy having a heated conversation.
‘It’s your fault Bellamy!’ John shoved Bellamy.
‘I wasn-’ Bellamy paused as he looked over at me. ‘Reyes... you’re-’
John turned around, instantly walking over to me as he hugged me tightly. ‘Y/N oh my.. I’m so glad you’re okay.’
‘What’s going on?’ I looked around as Clarke, Miller, Jackson, Shaw and Emori surrounded Bellamy and Murphy.
‘You two left for five minutes and the next thing I know, you’re lying on the ground unconscious right next to Bellamy.’ John said with petty.
‘For the billionth time, we didn’t know there was something guarding the place. Why would I want to hurt Reyes?’
John chuckled sarcastically, ‘Maybe because I’m with her and you’re jealous? You’re mad you fucked up your own relationship, getting pissed at me and Y/N. How stupid.’
Clarke stood between Bellamy and Murphy. ‘Guys, that’s enough. Y/N is okay, that’s all that matters. We should get back to figuring out what this place is.’
I bit my lip. ‘I don’t think it’s a right idea for us to scout the place. We should just be polite and wait for someone to get back.’
Miller nodded. ‘I agree. We have to try to make a good impression. If there really is someone living here, the last thing we need is war.’
‘Polite... how cute.’ Emori laughed, ‘Skafaiya wants to be polite for the new people. Am I the only one that finds this funny?’
‘Can we please just focus on figuring out a way to find these people that may possibly still live here?' Shaw rolled his eyes, I bet we argued more than McCreary and Diyoza.
‘Come on, Y/N. Let’s talk now that we’re face to face.’ Emori approached me, ‘What are you going to tell these people huh? That you’re worthy of their time and space?’
My body was aching from whatever happened to me in the woods and I honestly just wanted to rest. Now knowing that it was just John and Bellamy bickering at each other again, I didn’t feel the need to start an argument myself.
‘Do we really have to do this? I’m not in the mood right now.’
‘So now you don’t want to be a psycho killer? Interesting.’
I rolled my eyes, I’ve cried and begged for people to forgive my disgusting act and frankly I didn’t feel like doing that again; Especially for Emori.
‘Y/N. Are you scared? You’re scared huh?’ Emori then screamed, glaring as her eyes showed pure hatred. ‘Y/N!’
‘Emori, just stop.’
‘No, fuck you.’ She ran towards me with a knife that she gripped tightly on her hand, jumping onto me without hesitation.
I tried really hard to fight her off but with my sore body, it was unlikely. The knife lightly went through my skin, causing my shoulder to slowly bleed.
Miller and Murphy each grabbed Emori’s arms, pulling her off of me as she kicked and screamed.
Clarke kneeled next to me, checking on my shoulder. ‘You seem to have a fan club, Y/N.’
‘Uhm guys?’ Echo came out from the building with a children’s book on her hand. ‘I seriously think other people live here.’
Jackson suddenly screamed, running towards Bellamy with an angry expression on his face. Bellamy’s eyes widened, confused about what was happening. ‘Jackson?’
Panic flushed across Echo’s face as she saw the way Jackson and Emori was acting, she turned her head to gaze the sky. ‘Shit.’
‘What?’ Clarke asked.
‘The book... it’s happening.’ Echo flipped the page, tracing her finger under the sentences. ‘The Red Sun. It has some sort of power that can make people lose their minds.’
Bellamy grunted, holding onto Jackson as he tried to reach out for him. ‘How do we stop this?’
‘We can’t. We have to wait until The Red Sun is gone.’
‘There were some chains inside some buildings. We have to get moving, now!’ Clarke got up, helping me stand up on my feet as well.
Tugging and pulling on Emori and Jackson, we finally got both of them chained up against the wall. Jackson stared at Miller with sad eyes, ‘Please baby. Don’t do this.’
‘I’m sorry, I have no choice.’ Miller murmured back at his boyfriend, chaining himself on the opposite side of the room.
‘You sure you want to stay in here?’ Bellamy asked Miller.
‘Yeah, I feel safe knowing how he’s doing. I’ll watch Emori too, don’t worry.’
Bellamy nodded, leaving Miller, Emori and Jackson as he led me to a different room. Supposedly, Clarke prepared her, Bellamy and I into a different room as Echo, Murphy and Shaw shared another room to be chained up until The Red Sun disappeared.
‘How can you trust me to be in the same room with you?’ I asked Bellamy, who was leading me to the room.
‘We’ll be chained. I’m sure we will be okay.’
‘You saw how Emori grazed my shoulder with her knife right?'
Bellamy turned to me with a worried face. ‘Surely, you’ll be fine.’
‘It’s not me I’m worried about.’
His raised his eyebrows. ‘You’re worried about me?’
‘Do you realize what you did to me? Emori nearly stabbed me and I'm scared to find out what I may do to you.'
Bellamy blinked, not sure how he felt about my statement. He stood for a moment, thinking thoroughly about what can possibly happen if my chains somehow came off. Sure, he hurt me and nothing can express how much pain he left me in but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I harmed him somehow.
As I helped both Clarke and Bellamy put the chains on their wrist, I went to my corner to get mine on as well. Before I locked my chain, I heard a voice calling for me.
‘Y/N!’ John yelled my name, sounded as if he was in trouble.
‘Hey, hey. It’s okay. What’s wrong Y/N?’ Clarke tried to calm me down as she saw me reacting to Murphy’s voice but unfortunately it didn’t help me at all.
‘I should go check on him.’ Immediately without thinking, I left and started looking for John despite hearing Bellamy calling me to come back to the room.
Running around this unfamiliar place, I used only John’s voice to figure out which building he was chained up at. Going door to door, I finally found the room Murphy, Shaw and Echo was in.
‘Y/N? What are you doing here?’ John jogged towards me, still not chained up. ‘You need to get back to your post before The Red Sun starts to affect you.’
‘You called for me.’
‘No I didn’t.’ John’s jaw dropped, grabbing onto my arm as he led me back outside the door. ‘Oh my- Y/N, it’s starting. You need to go back now.’
I shook my head, ‘No, no. I know what I heard. For all I know, you can be saying this to mess with my head.’
‘Y/N, I promise you it’s really me this time. Now I need you to go back and chain yourself so you can be safe, okay?'
‘Stay here, you deserve to die after what you did.’ Marcus suddenly stood in front of me, he looked angry as ever. The look on his face terrified me, giving me flashbacks of the fright and guilt I felt down at the bunker.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of it, Marcus. You have to believe me.’ I whined as tears rolled down my face.
A light touch on my shoulder made me jump; It was John with a concerned look on his face. My thoughts were all over the place, not noticing why John was right here while I heard Marcus not too long ago.
‘It’s not real, Y/N. Listen to my voice.’ John spoke in a soft tone, trying to guide me back to reality. ‘Remember, Marcus is at the ship and he never came with us to the beach?’
His approach seemed to work because slowly, I’ve become aware of what was happening. Nodding in response, I kept repeating myself; The Red Sun, The Red Sun.
‘Yeah, The Red Sun.’ Murphy wrapped his arms around me, keeping me in a peaceful mindset which worked well.
‘Why isn’t it affecting you? This shit is so hard, I feel like I’m going insane.’
John laughed lightly, ‘I don’t know, I gues-’
‘Murphy!’ Bellamy stomped in front of us, shoving John off of me. ‘Are you fucking serious right now?’
‘Be-Bellamy, how did you get out?’ As I fought the voices in my head, I tried to stop Bellamy from attacking Murphy.
‘It’s just the Red Sun messing with your brain, you have to calm down Bellamy.’ John put his hand out, slowly backing away from him as he tried to reason with him.
He shook his head, chuckling devilishly as he stared at John. ‘What did you do to Y/N, huh? What do you have that I don’t?’
As I watched Bellamy and Murphy going back and forth, I saw Octavia and Marcus getting aggressive towards me; Calling me names and throwing bad words that I deserved to be said. It came to a point where I started believing that everything was real, perhaps Bellamy and John was the fake reality.
‘She was mine, you know? Reyes finally loved me and I-I fucked up.’ Bellamy sobbed, falling on his knees as he ran his fingers into the dirt. ‘Why, why am I so stupid?’
‘Let’s all head back into the building okay?’ John smiled at Bellamy, doing everything to convince him to listen to him. 'We can talk about this later.'
‘I’m a fuck up, I’m worthless and I’ve done everything wrong. Why am I like this?’ Bellamy clenching his hand, banging his fist onto the ground.
Murphy tried to pull him up, ‘You’re not a fuck up. You’re perfect Bellamy. Now let’s get up.’
‘No, no.’ He repeated over and over again, his cheeks getting wet from tears. Regret flushed across his face but I wasn’t completely sympathetic of his feelings as I was too busy fighting Octavia and Marcus in my head.
Bellamy got up as he pushed Murphy away, running towards the pond and sticking his head into the body of water. Seeing him in danger got me back into reality, I was still fighting in my mind but I knew I had to save Bellamy.
John rushed next to him, quickly pulling him out of the water. Bellamy coughed excessively, catching his breath as he shook his head.
‘Leave me to die, Murphy! Just leave me the fuck alone.’
‘Stop being so stubborn, now is really not the time.’ Murphy shoved Bellamy, soon the both of them going back and forth like brothers.
Bellamy then raised his fist, punching Murphy in his stomach. He groaned, cursing under his breath.
‘Alright. I know it's the Red Sun talking but you're getting on my last nerves.’ John said before he punched Bellamy in the face, leaving him unconscious.
My eyes widened as I rushed to the both of them. John rubbed his hand, hurting from punching Bellamy. ‘He’ll be okay. I’m sorry I had to punch him.’
I nodded, understanding why John did what he did. It was either watching Bellamy kill himself or potentially killing John, hurting him temporarily would’ve been better than waking up from this trance and seeing Bellamy drowning himself to death.
‘Y/N, you should go back to your post. I’ll watch Bellamy.’
‘What about you? What if suddenly you can’t control it anymore?’
‘I’ve been fighting demons all my life, The Red Sun is nothing.’ He chuckled lightly, making a joke out of himself. I knew that he wasn’t really kidding, feeling the pain through his statement.
I wanted to be here for John and I felt like I needed him as well. He helped me fight off the demons in my head that The Red Sun created, I didn't know if I can do it on my own or with Clarke sitting across from me for that matter.
'You'll be fine, Y/N.'
It was hard to try to walk away but I knew I had to. I slowly nodded, knowing that I had to go soon in case things got worse for me.
‘I’ll see you when this is all over John.’ I left him a kiss on his forehead as I left him and Bellamy by the pond.
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A Study in the Pains of Romance as a Genre
Ao3,   MasterPost
Wow I can’t believe I haven’t written an actual logince story yet???? who am I, even?? Anyway I love them and their dynamic is perfect. 
Relationships: Logince
Warnings: Self-doubt, insecurity, misunderstandings, flirting (so much flirting oh my god), Emotional Distress, some smooches 0x0. 
Word Count: 4,334
Light, repetitive music hummed from a set of over-sized speakers, which balanced precariously on an elegant end-table across the room. To Logan’s knowledge, the sub-genre of music was colloquially known as ‘lo-fi’. The melodies weren’t very engaging, but it served its purpose as background to the task at hand well enough. Said task would be work. In theory, that is. 
On the other end of the small table/large desk, Roman stared down into a leather journal, his face wrinkled with concentration. He gnawed at the edge of his pen thoughtlessly, drumming his hands against the paper and muttering to himself unintelligibly. His hair fell into his face occasionally, only to be brushed back with a small hum of annoyance. He was clearly immersed in his project, but he wasn’t yet at the point of frustration or burn-out. Such an ideal working state was seldom seen by any other side, but Logan could be as lucky. 
The two dichotomous traits had fairly recently found that ‘two heads were better than one’, in a manner of speaking. Logan’s ideas had so often contradicted the things that Roman had planned for, a difficult issue to solve if both of them were already halfway done with their respective projects, and therefore hesitant to redo any of their hard work. If they worked together from the very beginning of an idea, however, then it was that much easier to find compromises and balance each other out along the way. The two could keep each other on task, as well as stop each other from overworking. The arrangement was purely for efficiency’s sake, of course.
…It did also serve as something of a bonding experience, if Logan was honest.
Regardless, with all that in mind, Logan had every reason to be working. And yet, there he was. Not doing that. 
His and Roman's time together, for all it’s overwhelming pros, had resulted in one glaring con for Logan: what caught his focus had nothing to do with the documents open on his laptop, but rather how his friend tapped those immaculately manicured nails on the desk. The neatly arranged planners laid out before Logan served only as a backdrop to the sight of Roman’s smirk when he thought of something clever. Spreadsheets couldn’t hold a candle to the attention-grabbing power of that smile, repugnantly sappy as it sounded. 
The obvious explanation for this distraction was that Logan, as is the wont of characters in Fan-Fiction, had become infatuated with his artistic counterpart.
The scribbling of Roman's pen stopped briefly, his eyes narrowing at his writing. Logan glanced away from him hastily, realizing just how long he’d been staring, only to hear Roman laugh heartily at his own writing, good God. 
Logan glanced back at him- his face hopefully less flushed than it felt- and quirked a brow. Roman raised his head at the same time, flashing a bright smile. 
“Read this,” he slid his journal across the table to Logan, pride etched across his features. Logan just narrowly stopped the book from careening off the edge of the table, pulling it into his line of sight. His eyes scanned the page, briefly, but he couldn't quiet his overactive mind quite enough to really understand the words. He perceived a vague impression of the humorous interaction between two of Roman’s characters, though, which was explanation enough. 
The smile and nod he offered Roman in return- while mostly uncomprehending- was sincere, and it seemed to appease the creative entity. He slid the journal back across the table, much less forcefully than his friend had, and turned back to his work* (*staring blankly at his laptop screen). 
However, the longer he stared blankly, the more acutely aware he became of the silence in the room. He realized soon enough that this was because the sound of pen and paper had not yet returned from Roman’s side of the workspace.
Still hesitant to be caught staring (it honestly wouldn't have been the first time), Logan glanced up to see what the issue was. He almost startled at the way that Roman was staring right back at him with a fiery intensity, clearly lost in deep thought.
“Roman…?” 
He blinked, startled, though his face immediately broke into a wide grin. Before Logan could ask what exactly had him so exuberant, he slammed a hand down on their shared desk and stood from his chair. 
“Alright, it's break time!”
“You want to have a break? We started only an hour and twenty-seven minutes ago,” Logan tilted his screen closer to him discreetly, not wanting Roman to see that he'd really only done about fifteen minutes’ worth of actual work.
Roman scoffed, circling around their small table and leaning his full weight against Logan's back and shoulders. Despite his stature (very, very short), he was densely muscular, and therefore staggeringly heavy. 
“Yeah, I suppose, but I'm not feeling it right now!”
“That’s ridiculous, you've been remarkably focused all day despite your usual executive dysfunction; in fact, this is quite impressive for you and I’d be loath to disrupt you.”
Logan felt a small swell of pride when he saw, from the corner of his eye, that Roman’s face flushed at the compliment.
“Okay, fine, I’ll admit that I’m killing it today- but!” Roman pushed himself forward, shoving Logan into the desk and slightly to the left in the process, and shifted the logical trait’s laptop up and away from him, “You are clearly out of it, which is also a rarity,” he gestures to the barebones paragraphs displayed on the screen.
Logan felt a rush of embarrassment, but it was quickly overpowered by relief when he realized that his friend hadn't caught onto the reason for his slacking. He twisted in his seat, fighting to push Roman off of him.
“And stopping work altogether is supposed to remedy this how?”
“Shush,” Roman moved along with Logan’s efforts to push him away, taking it one step further by dragging them both into a standing position, “We’re taking a break because I said so, and I already had something planned for us today, so you aren’t getting out of this.” 
Logan tilted his head in bemusement, too caught off-guard by the latter remark to remove Roman’s arm from around him (definitely for that reason, and not because the contact made him dizzily contented). 
“You have something planned? Why didn't you tell me?”
“Well, it was a surprise, obviously,” Roman huffed, using his grip on Logan to steer him over to his canopy bed. At his insistence, Logan sat down, his confusion only growing. 
“You… have a surprise for me?”
Roman rolled his eyes, chuckling.
“Do you need a Q-tip? Yes, as I’ve said thrice now. It’s actually been in the works for a while now, but I think it’s ready for you.”
Rather than trying to form an actual response, Logan fell back on a tried-and-true tactic: Correcting Roman.
“The use of a Q-tip to clean one’s ear can actually be quite dangerous-”
The tactic worked, as Roman’s expression went from teasing fondness to impatience almost instantly. He made quite the show of rolling his eyes, moving his head along with his irises. 
“Yeah, yeah, everybody knows and has already stopped caring about that. Do you wanna see the surprise or not, Teach?” 
Well, Logan supposed he wasn’t going to get any work done, anyway. Not with the idea of Roman making something specifically for him clattering around in his mind. 
“I must admit that you’ve piqued my interest.” 
“Good,” Roman gave him a dazzling grin and, to Logan’s surprise, sat right down beside him on the mattress. Logan nearly questioned the behavior, deciding against it when Roman let his eyes fall closed. He was once more the picture of concentration, his fingers tapping out patterns and rhythms against his knees. After a long, awkward, perfectly silent two minutes and thirty-four seconds, there was an abrupt jolt. Logan struggled to maintain his balance, eventually failing when he felt the bed beneath him move so swiftly that he could no longer make out the room around him. 
A rush of vertigo overcame him, sending him toppling backwards with a yelp. However quickly they seemed to be moving, it felt as though they really weren’t travelling at all- as though they were completely unencumbered by friction. And then, just as quickly as it had begun, the movement halted.
Logan sat up, hair ruffled and feeling distinctly embarrassed at such a reaction to something he really should have expected.
Roman had shifted the appearance of his room, of course. It was something he did constantly- Logan couldn’t count the number of times he’d found the side unconsciously manifesting surfaces just as he was about to place an item on empty space. But that all paled in comparison to this. The entire room had changed, not just a few pieces of furniture.
They weren’t in a room anymore, actually; they were in a garden. A garden that sprawled out in all directions, the ends (if any existed yet) obscured by the various fountains and trees within it. The sky above was a blanket of darkness, even though it was about midday in the real world. Logan could excuse the inaccuracy, aware that it was just for the atmosphere. That, and also because it allowed him view of the stars.
They were so, so bright. The sky was like a pool of ink filled up with glitter, each flake of which a different size. But the most impressive thing was just how… subdued it was. Roman had clearly avoided cramming the sky with bright colors and unrealistic formations, opting instead to paint a believable sky, one that really could exist if given the best possible circumstances. 
Logan stood up from his spot, awestruck. In the back of his mind, he registered that the bed had swayed with his movements upon his standing. But really, it wasn’t a bed at all anymore; it was a heavily cushioned swing, strung up between two short, thin trees. Forcing his eyes to turn from the stars and take in the rest of the picturesque scene, Logan saw similar trees dotted around the little garden; they varied in height, but each was stick-thin with elegant sprawls of branches. They looked almost like the antlers of a deer.
The most prominent pieces of flora, however, were the twisting bushes of flowers all along the sides of the cobblestone paths. They were so diverse, each so perfectly detailed and created. Some had circular, squat petals, growing in little clusters. Others rose singularly from long stems, their petals thin and delicate. There was only one commonality between them. 
Blue. Every shade or hue, from shimmering chrome to cloudy cyan; it. Was all. Blue. 
Come to think of it, everything was, even if it was subtle. The stone paths between the fountains and displays were pale slate, just edging away from gray; the wood of the trees were inky and dark, tinted a harsh indigo; the lanterns hung up on lamp poles lit the scene with turquoise flames. 
Logan’s breath caught in his throat. For a moment, he forgot entirely how he’d come to be here. All he saw was this- this gift. 
“It took forever, honestly,” Roman’s insincere complaint was whisper-quiet, and yet Logan still jumped at the voice. He clearly hadn’t noticed the trait walking up to him until he was right beside him. “I had to get it just right.”
“It’s wonderful, Roman. This is perfect,” Logan didn’t try to play it down. He wasn’t sure he could, stripped of his snark at the beauty before him. A beauty made for him.
“I’m glad that you like it,” there was something painfully honest behind Roman’s words.
“What…” Logan wasn’t sure what he was going to ask. What this all was for, that would’ve been a reasonable question. There were also some ‘Why’s that he could ask: why on earth had Roman made something so amazing for him?
Logan wasn’t a self-deprecating person. When he wasn’t always positive, he at least maintained healthy self-neutrality. He was well aware of the detriments that accompanied negative self-talk and idealization, so he was careful to avoid such at all costs. On good days, he could go as far as to say that he actively enjoyed who he was. Bad days, well, they weren’t nearly as bad as they could be. 
Therefore, it followed that Logan was being entirely objective when he said that he would not be a good enough romantic partner for Roman. 
There he stood, before this gorgeous, romantic setting that Creativity had made for him, and he could do nothing but worry. Not worry that his harbored affection was unrequited, but worry that perhaps it somehow was. It was unbelievable to him, and he feared it. He feared the look that Roman sent him as he inspected the flowers, the statues, the sky, all for him. 
“Roman, this is… I don’t know what to say.”
“Oh? I’ve managed to get you speechless? That’s quite an accomplishment,” his tone was far too intimate for the teasing words. Regardless, Logan forced a scoff.
“Don’t let it go to your head. All it is is that I’m trying to appreciate your attention to detail.”
“Sure.”
There was another lapse of silence, in which Logan found himself caught up in thought.
When he’d first had the unfortunate realization that he was in love with his friend, of course he’d wanted to resolve the issue as simply as possible. It was only sensical that he inform Roman right away, to see if the feelings were reciprocated. If they were, then the better it was for both of them; if not, it was the closure needed for him to move on. 
A plan like that was easier said than done.
Logan couldn’t just say it, not in the way he would’ve preferred. That wouldn’t at all be Roman’s style, and such a confession would likely garner nothing but exasperation. It would be much smarter to try and cater to the trait’s love of all things prosey, elaborate, and romantic, if he wanted any kind of favorable results. So Logan began to do what he did best: Gather information.
Roman liked grand gestures. Roman was weak for cheesy tropes and clichés. Roman swooned over long declarations of love. The list went on and on and on. Logan found himself letting Roman choose shows to watch in their downtime together, for the express purpose of writing down the details of all the romantic plotlines that he cooed at.
It was always something giant, spectacular, and teary. But still, foolishly, Logic held onto the hope that he could replicate something of the like. The hope that he could be copacetic in this area, so far out of his expertise. 
He’d lost it soon after, of course.
“These are my favorite, you know,” Roman muttered, jolting Logan from his introspection. The side was stood by a large bush of flowers, gazing fondly at them.
“Hm?” Logan stepped over to him, still a bit dazed. 
“Blue roses,” Roman held one of the flowers reverently in his hand, “You’d think it’d be red- and those are classics- but no. I’m quite fond of these.”
Logan nodded. It took all of his self-control to keep his eyes off of his friend. 
It was meant to be a family movie night, that evening when he’d given up on this. But somehow everyone had become preoccupied, except Roman. 
They’d laughed together, debating the merits of even having a movie night at that point. In the end, they decided to do it anyway, of course. Roman chose, and all seemed well in the beginning.
Logan quickly determined that the film would have a pretty central romantic subplot, and so he had discreetly summoned his notebook to jot down anything he thought Roman would be interested in. That went perfectly well, with him scribbling down a cutesy gesture in the film every few minutes. He and Roman talked through the whole thing- as usual- and all in all the night was par for the course.
But then came the movie’s climactic end. The lead professed his undying love for the love-interest by starlight, with a speech that Logan could swear dragged on for five minutes. Accompanying this, the character had hired musicians for the occasion, procured several gifts for the object of his affection, and if that weren’t nearly enough- there were fireworks.
Logan had scoffed, rolling his eyes at the absurdity. But Roman…
Roman had stars in his eyes.
Logan had looked at him inquisitively, a bitter taste filling his mouth when Roman looked right back with the widest eyes.
‘That, that’s what I want,’ that look seemed to say. Logan gripped his pen in his hand, his eyes trying to catch on all of the details in the scene before him, but he already knew the truth. 
He could never be that. However unrealistic Roman’s wants were, they were his own, and Logan could not possibly meet them.
He threw away his notebook after that. 
“Do you know why I like them?”
Logan startled, feeling Roman press up against his side. 
“Wh- what?”
“The roses,” he reiterated, twirling the stem between his fingers, “You know why I like them?”
“I can’t say that I do,” Logan mumbled, moving to step back. When he did, he felt his back hit one of the immense marble fountains, leaving him with nowhere to go. Roman followed his movements, effectively caging him. 
“They calm me. They remind me that everything can’t always be so harsh. That sometimes you need to think things through a little more,” he wasn’t looking at the rose at all as he spoke, instead focusing his attention on Logan in front of him, which he thought was probably significant, “But they’re still roses. They’re essentially the same. They’ve still got stems and thorns and spirally petals, even though all you notice at first is the difference in color. It’s apt, I think…”
Roman leaned over him. The creative trait braced his arm on the lip of the fixture, tilting his head back to stare at Logan. Every time one of them shifted, even slightly, they’d have a brush of contact.
“And they do go so well with the red ones, don’t you think?”
Logan knew exactly what Roman was doing and he didn’t understand it one bit. He’d agonized over countless pieces of Roman’s favorite romantic media, and he knew their scene was fit for any of those movies. All except for one aspect: the supposed love interest. 
Logan was in a button-down and jeans, not a navy suit or a flowing sundress. He spoke with stilted ‘dialogue’ and misunderstood all of Roman’s romantic symbolism, hardly able to give his own beautiful soliloquies in response. He could hardly be called the ‘muse’ for this gorgeous garden gift that Roman had given him! If anything, Logan was the best friend. It was a frustrating character type to play- the nerdy and underappreciated accomplice- but Logan had become accustomed to it. Settled into it. It was what Roman’s favorite genre showed him to be, and he’d fit it well.
When Roman inched closer still, Logan found the willpower to put a hand on the trait’s chest and halt him. 
“Lo?” Roman breathed by way of question. His adoring gaze had turned confused and cautious, with a tinge of worry shining through. 
Logan felt like he was burning from the inside out, even though he knew that, physically speaking, he was perfectly fine. He couldn’t stand the contradiction he’d become, but he could stand even less that sickeningly-sweet affection Roman was mistakenly giving him. It didn’t make sense for this to be happening, and Logan needed his sense back. 
“I’m sorry,” he blurted, “Why are you doing this?” it ended up much meeker than he’d wished to say it. 
Roman essentially leapt away from him, his hands flying up with palms faced out. After taking  several strides back, he laughed awkwardly, looking nothing short of ashamed.
“Well, I seem to have misread some things, I guess! I- um- forget it, it was stupid anyways.”
Logan felt a sharp pain between his ribs at that, standing up straighter.
“No, I didn’t mean to seem, well, upset, per se- it’s just- why me? What do you stand to gain from pursuing a romantic relationship with me?” He stepped falteringly forwards after Roman, “ I just don’t… understand,” it was a wonder Logan could keep his voice calm. 
Roman’s face scrunched in an obvious lack of comprehension. He crossed his arms below his chest, words coming out slow as though he was trying to make sense of them.
“You want to know why I have feelings for you? What- what I stand to gain?” A bewildered little chuckle broke up his words on the last clause, making Logan flush embarrassedly.
“Y-es, I am far from an ideal partner for you. I know you well enough to know that.”
“And what makes you so sure, hm?” Roman’s expression was bordering on amusement, frustratingly enough; Logan didn’t see what could possibly be humorous about the situation. Everything seemed strangely painful to him.  
“Oh, please. I’m hardly a- a Prince Charming, or whatever it is you’re after. I wouldn’t be able to provide you with grand, elaborate gestures of affection. I’m not supernaturally beautiful. Face it, I’m not up to your sky-high standards at all,” Logan knew his voice was edging on frantic the longer he talked, as he tried to put an end to whatever was happening. To his surprise, Roman responded by shaking his head wildly, darting forwards and taking Logan’s hands.
“How can someone so smart be so, so dense?” He exclaimed, “You are smart, Lo- I thought that you’d caught on by now, and were just waiting for me to make a move. I mean, I was being so obvious.”
Logan, despite the warmth welling in his chest and the confusion dizzying him, managed to raise an unimpressed eyebrow at Roman. The creative trait seemed to understand what he’d said a second later, laughing in embarrassment.
“Oh, right- sorry,” he muttered, “I thought it was obvious, I suppose, with how much I kept hinting at it.”
“What on earth are you talking about? Every time you spoke about romance, it was a hyper-dramaticized version of a fantasy relationship- rambling about your hypothetical partner’s ‘Athena-like wit and humor’, or ‘innumerable acts of kindness’ you claimed they’d give you daily.”
Roman gave him a long, fond, exasperated look. 
“I guess I must think very highly of you.”
“You- you were talking about me?” 
“Of course I was,” Roman’s expression turned solemn. He lifted a hand to cup Logan’s jaw. 
“I can’t believe you thought that I deserved something better.”
“I didn’t say that,” Logan snapped, stubbornly, “I said I knew you’d want better. I never mentioned that I thought your wants were actually realistic.”
“Well, that’s true; you are quite unreal, Logan.”
“That’s not what I meant!” Logan flushed darkly. He wanted nothing more than to establish at least a little distance between himself and Roman, but his traitorous and sentimental physicality refused to allow it. 
Roman took just a moment to find humor in his embarrassment, letting a deep silence follow it. He seemed expectant. Logan was still reeling. 
“...Well?” The artistic trait prompted after a while, shifting uncomfortably.
“‘Well’ what?”
Roman gestured to himself, an awkward motion considered how he had steadily plastered against Logan. 
“This was going to be, like, my grand declaration of love to you, but we seem to have gotten a little off-track.”
“Oh,” Logan smiled apologetically, “By all means, continue.”
“Well, I can’t now. The moment’s gone!”
“If it’s any consolation, you were off to a very good start.”
Roman grinned, cupping the side of Logan’s face properly.
“Yeah?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Good enough that you might consider being mine, mi estrella?”
“Uhm- possibly,” Logan found it increasingly hard not to shy away from the loving look directed at him, and even harder to keep his voice above a breathless stutter, “If you’re sure that’s what you want.”
The words were barely out of his mouth before Roman kissed him, chaste and beautiful. Logan had hardly registered the sweet taste of sugared coffee on his lips before it was gone, left with only Roman watching him lovingly. He couldn’t help but return the look, earning him another soft kiss. That was followed by another, and another, and then they were moving to his cheeks and nose and forehead as well, and by that point he was struggling to return the affection, utterly unaware of his surroundings.
Roman let go of Logan’s hand to cup the other side of his face, grinning at the giddy laughs that Logan was failing to suppress as the (entirely invited) assault on his face continued. The barrage concluded with a drawn-out kiss pressed to the tip of Logan’s nose, and Roman finally seemed satisfied with himself.
Logan was aware of how ridiculous he must have looked, face red and giggling quite uncontrollably, but Roman was still looking at him like he was the best thing he’d ever laid eyes upon. 
“This is what I want,” he purred, as if it even needed to be said. Logan rolled his eyes, burying his face in Roman’s hair if only to escape the overwhelming emotion the situation was instilling him with. 
He struggled to catch his breath, unsure if he wanted to keep laughing or possibly cry. He was desperately out of his depth, actually, so he was rather conflicted about most things. Everything he’d thought he’d known had been turned on its head. While Logan didn’t like being wrong, that didn’t really seem like the most pertinent issue. 
But there was at least one point that seemed to have a clear answer.
“Good,” Logan murmured, nearly silent, “I want this, as well.”
Taglist: @shrimp-crockpot @glitter-skeleton-uwu @donnieluvsthings @intruxiety @thefivecalls 
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itswildwinters · 4 years
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Seeing as it’s the holidays for me, I’ve had time to read (and re-read) quite a lot of fics, and I felt like sharing some of them with you. It’s my first time doing a fic recs post, so I hope it’s useful and not too much of a mess, especially since it’s quite long!
If you do end up reading any of these stunning fanfics, don’t forget to leave kudos and comments to show your appreciation!
Enjoy!! ✩
✩ baby blue by @soldouthaz​ (39k)
summary: Harry Styles takes his time coming out to greet them. Louis only knows what he’s seen on file and what he’s heard them talking about, but he fully lives up to the image he had inside of his head. 
He saunters down the front steps of the farmhouse in his Levi’s, brown snakeskin boots curving out from underneath the denim Louis’ sure he had specially made. He’s got on a plaid button-down tucked into the jeans because of course he does, curls spilling out from either side of his cowboy hat around his sunglasses and country-tan skin. 
“Harry Styles,” he drawls, extending a hand to Louis’ manager, “Pleased to meet ya’ll.”
I loved the dynamic between Cowboy Harry and Celebrity Louis. What I also really enjoyed about this fanfic is that the depiction of farm life was accurate. The way the story is written really gets you into action, so that you can picture everything quite well through the Louis-centric third point of view. 
✩ The Space Between by @lads-laddylads​ (39k)
summary: Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why. Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.
A/B/O fanfic. I loved how Alpha Harry acted upon seeing Louis for the first time. You can really feel the tension and attraction through the screen, which is one of my all time favourite things. The way their relationship builds up is a delight, and Louis is a darling and so courageous in the end with how he deals with Harry, even when Harry is being an idiot. The connection they have at the end... just wow!
✩ fae series: Boiling Blood Will Circulate and Warming The Air Of The World by @crazyupsetter​ (42k and 3k)
summary of Boiling Blood Will Circulate: The wait isn’t long before something starts rustling in the bushes. Harry takes aim, squeezes the trigger, body moving unconsciously. They’re motions he’s done a thousand times before, and his body knows how to do it without the input of his brain now. It’s what makes him such a good shot.
He misses. The shot misses.
Something howls in the woods, a pretty clear indication that Harry hit it, but there’s no telltale sounds of a big body dropping, no animal charging out at him to take him out before he can finish the job.
Something does turn and run, though. “Fuck,” Harry spits out, scrambling to his feet and slinging the rifle back over his shoulder, giving chase. He’s not going to lose this hunt.
The trail of blood goes on longer than Harry thought it would. He doesn’t know how long he runs for, but his muscles are burning, chest heaving with exertion, until the trail just - goes dead. No more blood, just like that.
“Fuck,” Harry says.
I am a sucker for fantasy/supernatural fanfics, and this one is absolutely incredible. The suspense in there is well-built, and the dynamic between Louis and Harry leaves you hungry for more. There’s a lot of blood in this series, so if you’re not into that you should be careful, but for me the author really puts into perspective how complicated and different from mankind faeries are.
✩ With a whimper by @kitundercover​ (132k)
summary: Dystopian AU. Louis has been alone for too long to remember how not to be, and Harry has too much to worry about to deal with a scrawny, wild, stranger.
---
The man grips his arm tightly. “You’re not going to say anything.” It’s not a question.
Louis shakes his head, his body twitching.
“Fine.” Large green eyes survey him before letting go. “It’s cold. Take this. Wear it.”
Louis can’t help another flinch as the man’s long scarf is wrapped around his tender neck, it’s still warm. He touches the soft material. “Thank you.”
The man bears his teeth. “Don’t thank me. Don’t ever thank me.”
If you are into dystopian works, and doesn’t mind violence, blood and gore, this fic will make your day! I loved the world-building, the way it’s written, how Louis’ character is portrayed and how strong he is. I just couldn’t stop reading once I began. The secrets of the plot, the fear of the characters, and the curiosity that sparks within you as you read contribute into making this fic a unique one that’s so worth the read.
✩ Soaked In The Blood Of Angels by @crazyupsetter​ (40k)
summary: The boy looks drugged, caught between a man who’s almost twice his size and a girl who looks like she wouldn’t even break a sweat snapping him in half despite her small stature, eyes closed and mouth open as he pants, arching up between them almost as if he’s trying to escape.
Normally, Harry would ignore it and continue on his search for someone to drink from, someone who wouldn’t mind his sharp teeth and rough hands. He’s seen plenty of boys like this one, ones who picked the wrong playmates, and if he stopped to rescue every single one of them he would have died from thirst a long time ago.
This one, though. There’s something about this one, the sheen of his bright blue eyes as he blinks slowly, looks around as though he doesn’t know where he is, the weakness of his hands as he tries to push the girl off of him and make his escape.
Another magnificent creatures/fantasy fanfic. The writing is absolutely exquisite, and I love how hard to get Louis is. The violence between Louis and Harry might bother some people, but to me it really spiced up their relationship and made Louis and Harry, who are creatures of gloom, particularly interesting and even real, somehow.
✩ Play Pretend, Find a Friend? by @angelichl​ (40k)
summary: They had to pull back for air. Louis surveyed the guy’s face, in awe of his blown pupils and sharp jawline, the way their shared spit glistened on his lips.
“Hi,” he breathed. He blinked, and came back to himself a little bit, blushing at his own boldness. “Sorry. Is this okay?”
The stranger removed his right hand from the curve of Louis’ waist in order to cup his jaw, tilting it up to the angle he desired. He pressed their lips together, murmuring, “Definitely.” And then he kissed harder.
When Louis sees his ex-boyfriend kissing a random girl at a party, he acts out of blind jealousy. He kisses the first guy he can find. It turns into a thing.
Where do I start? I usually don’t like fake-relationship AUs since most of the time Louis and Harry are famous, which make it less fun to me. But in this fic, they’re students and Harry is a frat boy while Louis is a nerd, but it’s not cliché or anything. It’s actually so well-written and the relationship between Louis and Harry takes time to progress which I absolutely love, seeing as I am a sucker for slow burn. Harry is so sweet as a frat boy, and Louis is an angel. Really loved reading this.
✩ at your fingertips by @risthebrave​ (27k)
summary: He finds himself wrapped up in sheets in bed on Thursday night, staring at the familiar name on a new story that was posted the night before.
His fingers twitch, ready to hit play and surrender to his impulses, saving the regret and turmoil for later.
And still he hesitates, internally praying that he’ll somehow gain the strength to exit out within the next few moments before he inevitably loses his patience and hits the button.
Three…
Two…
One.
Play.
-
Or, Louis really should have seen it coming.
Besides being well-written, the whole plot is quite original. I absolutely loved Louis in there, especially since all of his insecurities made me relate to him. He’s so sweet, and I’m glad Harry was there to get him to open-up and see how amazing he is. I had so many moments of secondhand embarrassment haha, and they made the fic all the more amazing. Honestly, what really struck me in this fic is how the author managed to make Harry such an amazing person, and how intrepid Louis is while he learns to overcome his insecurities.
✩ Nothing But You On My Mind by @absoloutenonsense​ (83k)
summary: Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.
It was such a joy to read this fic. Even though Harry pissed me off on more than one occasion, I took great satisfaction in how Louis ignored him or replied with one of his witty comebacks. The plot twist was just awesome and Harry’s stubbornness ended up being very much welcome.
✩ push you out, pull you back in by @behisoneandonly​ (31k)
summary: Harry grips his head in his hands helplessly, yanking the base of his dark curls and squeezing his eyes shut.
“Fucking hell,” he whispers, knuckles turning white from how hard he’s gripping the strands of his hair.
“Hey, hey,” says the petite stranger in front of him, quickly standing up. “Stop, you’re hurting yourself.”
Or Harry hates feeling vulnerable. Louis is set on breaking through his tough facade.
Oh my god, this was truly wonderful. The size difference made me go crazy! The smut was just wow too. What really made this fic so incredible is how protective of Harry Louis is, and how Louis seems to just... understand Harry despite his issues. Jealous Harry also! I loved it. Moreover, Louis’ character is literally perfect in this.
✩ thinking about the t-shirt you sleep in by @absoloutenonsense​ (52k)
summary: Harry's alpha fraternity donates to a local thrift shop (because of Liam's latent crush on a cute beta in his lecture). Louis' financial situation (and confusing omega instincts) lead him to make some interesting fashion purchases. Lots of pizza, feelings, and not-really-lying.
I’ve read and re-read this. I love Louis and Harry’s dynamic, and how they solve their troubles in the end. Harry is such a sweet soul, and Louis deserves the world!
✩ Canyon Moon by @eeveelou​ (40k)
summary: For as long as Louis has remembered, he has been promised to be mated to Harry, his best friend and the future pack alpha. But Louis’s heart belonged to the forest and to the hunt more than he could ever imagine it belonging to Harry.
Then Harry’s father dies in a violent accident, and Louis’s future alpha disappears on the wind.
An A/B/O Lion King AU
What really drew me in is that I’ve never before seen a larry fanfic on the Lion King, and honestly? It was so beautiful. The way the author made the plot of the cartoon go along with the A/B/O world was truly surprising, and absolutely interesting to read. Also, when Louis is introduced to the modern world? It’s such a sweet part of the fic.
✩ a trail of honey through it all by @yvesaintlourent​ (27k)
summary: The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.
Or, the TPH fic we’ve all been waiting for.
Trailer park Harry? HELL YEAH! The concept has been going on in the fandom for so long that when I saw someone finally wrote it, I was genuinely excited. And I wasn’t disappointed! The writing is wonderful and the way Louis and Harry grow closer is just so sweet. Loved it!
✩ The Healing Song series: The Healing Song and The Wedding by 2204 (111k and 3k)
summary of The Healing Song: Louis was carrying the large stuffed elephant like it was a baby, it’s trunk hanging over his shoulder and down his back and it’s front legs were resting around his neck, like it was hugging him. Said elephant was a present from Louis’ close friend Steve, who had thought Louis needed something to hug on bad days and had gifted him with a stuffed elephant the size of a one year old.
Steve had been right. Some days Louis did need something to hug, and this elephant was as good as anything.
Louis was having one of the rougher days. The harmonious state of the anxiety free life of a fearless Louis had ended the week after he met with Harry. It ended as abruptly as it had started. It was like pushing a button. Lights out. Almost as if the universe said “You’ve had your fun, crazy one, now go be sick” and slammed the door in his face.
Or where Louis is a single father of two, suffering from PTSD, and Harry is there providing soulmatey and loving support while he heals the wounds of past abuse.
God, this fic I swear! This made me cry, laugh, scream... this is a roller-coaster of emotions. It’s quite a hard fic to read, because it deals with past abuse and trauma. And it’s even harder knowing this story is based on real life events that the author went though. But the way it’s written, the way Harry helps Louis through his struggles and issues, it’s so beautiful and inspiring.
✩ Sunrise and Pixie Dust by @moonyblouie​ (14k)
summary: Harry's taking a walk at sunrise in the forest he knows like the back of his hand when the wind starts blowing, the sky turns pink, and golden glitter starts to fall from the sky. He’s not sure about what’s happening, but when he comes face to face with a gorgeous winged-creature, he can’t help but be immediately mesmerized.
Or an AU in which Harry finds himself crossing the borders between two worlds.
I loved this, the smut is so hot!! But the end... I really hope there will be a sequel! But other than that, the way Louis is written? Wonderful!
✩ Weightless by @smittenwithlouis​ (25k)
summary: He hopes that Harry still thinks of him. God knows Louis thinks of him every day.
Or: Harry is the best dragon racer the world has ever seen and Louis is an almost-vet who feels like he is carrying the weight of the world.
This was... just amazing, honestly. I loved loved loved every time Louis interacted with dragons, I could picture it and it’s just so so sweet. The way Louis is concerned about Harry’s safety, and Harry’s will to make Louis’ life better, to give him the freedom he deserves... it’s just beautiful.
✩ The Blood of Love by @mugglemirror​ (25k)
summary: Harry is a nurse and Louis is a painting worth more than a thousand words. As desire and darkness encompasses him, Harry has to learn the secrets of Thorne Hills manor before he succumbs to the mystery that surrounds him.
I absolutely loved this! The plot, the writing, the suspense, the secrets... everything was on spot and left me yearning for more. The atmosphere really makes the reader completely engrossed into what’s going on, and the end doesn’t disappoint. Dark fics have always been something that I enjoy reading, and this one definitely didn’t disappoint. Just wow!
✩ Latibule by @quelquesetoiles​
summary: Louis had worked in the infamous resort placed in the median point of all worlds for longer than he could remember. He went through everyday with a soul-crushing emptiness filling his mind, going through the same routine over and over again. Despite all the happenings around him, his soul never wavered, his emotions stayed superficial, and nothing took his breath away anymore.
Nothing, except the intoxicating smell of lavender and the contemplating green eyes that came along for the ride every now and again. His heart always seemed to wake up full force whenever those pretty lips formed around even prettier, yet empty promises, and he felt the magic sizzle in his bones again only when contact was made between the divine body and his own deceivingly normal one. He hated it for the fact he really didn’t.
Or : A Spirited Away AU of sorts where Louis just wants to heal and be left alone, only for all his plans to be destroyed by the hands of an infuriating British God.
I have read this at least three times, that’s how good this fic is. I am a sucker for mythology, like truly, and Louis and Harry’s dynamic in there had me screaming! Jealous Harry is the best thing, and the semi plot twist at the end made my heart jump. But besides the universe we readers are diving into, it’s also the writing that’s left me pleasantly drunk. The words flow together perfectly, at after each paragraph you just long for more. Also the pet names!!! Just beautiful.
✩✩✩
If there’s any mistakes, please let me know! 
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mangobilorian · 4 years
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Paring: Din Djarin x Reader
Words: 6609
read chapter four  read on AO3
After you and Crix finish eating, you both go outside, giving Mando the privacy of the house. It seems a little overkill to leave the man an entire house to himself (and the bounty), but he deserves that much at least. And while the Tatooine night isn’t as beautiful as the sunsets, the stars more than make up for it. 
“There, you see that,” you say, pointing towards the right side of the sky. “Somewhere in that constellation is my star, and the system that surrounds it.” 
“Beautiful,” Crix replies. “You know, I never studied astronomy on Alderaan, too happy with history to bother. And we’ve explored most of the galaxy anyway.” 
“I guess. I’m pretty sure we know less than we think we do. The Unknown Regions could be twice or three times the size of the Core and all the Rims combined. Think about it!” Crix laughs and takes a sip of his tea. A sleeping tea, this time, cooled and perfect for an easy rest.
“How many constellations do you know?” You pause, taking the time to mull over the question. When you dreamed about finding your brother, you studied the stars. You plotted different routes he could take, the planets he could reach given the fuel capacity of his ship, which ones he’d avoid or welcome. Charts of the skies were imprinted on the back of your eyelids, day and night. 
It also helped, that your time doing finances for your parents gave you constant practice with math. While you weren’t the next big physicist, you knew enough to plot coordinates. And make finance sheets compatible with different holo programs. 
Somehow, in all that studying, you enjoyed learning about the stars. Not enough to make a career out of it (and what a useless career that would be), but it’s a fun enough hobby. “I can point out most of the constellations that make up the Known Regions,” you grin. “And if we’re talking Mid Rim in, I could tell you the different constellations in the main languages from their systems.” 
“Oh? You know many languages and are a budding astronomer. I see.” Rolling your eyes, you shuffle a bit. The sand is as irritating as always but- you could get used to it. Probably. “If- you mentioned becoming a pilot and following your brother were your dreams, right?” You nod, looking at Crix. The night is too dark, however, so you only see a shadow. “I could teach you how to fly, if you want. If we can get a ship.” You pause, dumbfounded. 
It’s so easy for Crix to offer you flying lessons when it took Mando so much kriffing effort to even agree.
Crix would be a better teacher. He’s gentle and softhearted. He’ll give you corrections sandwiched between compliments and encouragement. A far cry from Mando’s disastrous lesson. Maker, you can imagine it: you, a few years from now, with fantastic piloting skills honed by an ex-rebel pilot. 
But flying with Crix would mean letting Mando go, and you’re not sure if you want that. In fact, you’re not sure if flying is a thing you want to do for yourself and not for your brother. Your mind hurts at the implication, though, so you steal a sip of Crix’s tea before thinking of your reply. 
You open your mouth to speak, ready to give an answer when- “Or, we can go to Anchorhead, and see if there’s a book about stars. For you to take on your trip with your Mandalorian.” 
Oh. Oh. You release a breath, stomach giddy and confused. Crix knows you better than you know yourself, you realize. Which you shouldn’t be surprised about, honestly. Your brother held your identity so secret that only Crix knew he had family, but that didn’t stop him from telling Crix every embarrassing story from your childhood. 
“I’d like that. Thank you.” You hear Crix chuckle.
“You’re welcome.” The both of you stay quiet for a moment, content to sit next to each other in silence. It’s a stark difference from the thick tension between you and Mando. And there’s always tension whether it be sexual or emotional or- or anything else. “Tell me about your parents,” Crix says softly. “What are they like?” You furrow your brows. You already told him all about them before. 
But this is the first time Crix wanted to know something, the first time he asked an actual question. Taking your silence as rejection, he says, “I’m sorry. You don’t have to-”
“They’re nice. I think, once they get over the fact that you’re a boy, they’ll like you. Of course, they’d learn their firstborn son had lied about his death in a plot to destroy the Empire, but,” you shrug, “they’ll learn to internalize their grief and move on like everyone else.” Crix stays silent, and you worry that maybe what you said isn’t the sort of thing he was looking for.
“My dad… he likes his caf with just a little sugar. No cream. He can’t drink lactose without getting an upset stomach. He loves sour treats, especially the lemon tarts imported from Naboo. His favorite color is orange, and he doesn’t like speaking when he has to. My mom,” you pause, choking back the urge to cry. 
You don’t know why you suddenly want to bawl, but, just as you feel the familiar urge of drowning, Crix places a warm hand on your elbow. You suck back your tears and continue. 
“My mom loves plants and pretty things. It’s why she likes the b-bar girls so much. They’re prettier than me. But she loves me, in her own way. She buys me d-dresses and skirts, but they never fit. She sees everything as a project, a slate for her to fix,” you fiddle your fingers, thinking of all those beautiful clothes the bar girls wear while you get too-big or too-small garments. The colors shine and shimmer on the Twi’leks, Togrutas, Pantorans…. They never glitter on you. 
“She likes lemon tarts too and takes her caf with cream and lots of sugar. If she had the choice, she’d probably travel, looking for the prettiest things in the world and leaving me and dad behind. But she lo-loves us so m-much,” you sob, burying your face in your hands, chest squeezing. It’s been a while since you last cried, much less about your parents; the last time you shed a tear was before Mando… before you and Mando…. 
Life is so different now; you’re so different. You’re no longer a bumbling, naive girl with dreams too big to ever complete. Truly, you’d been a fool to ever think that you’d track your brother’s journey through the galaxy, years after his supposed death. But you found a man who made you feel what love is like (is it love?), and you found the truth about your brother on the first planet you landed on, and somehow, in the past month, you found out how to be just a bit stronger, a bit less rambling and insecure. 
None of that would have happened if Mando never saved you that day when you got in his way, surely endangering himself and his bounty. 
But you can’t deny that, for the first time, you miss your parents. You’ve changed, yes, but- Maker, you miss them so kriffing much. In the holodramas, the young girls that go on adventures have no parents, while you willingly left yours behind. Crix pulls you into a sideways hug, and you lean in. 
“Shhh, it’s ok. Thanks for telling me,” he says, after your tears dry and sobs stop. You realize that you’ve probably been out here for an hour, and Mando is definitely finished with his food and armor cleaning. Voicing your observation, Crix agrees, and you head back, wiping your face one last time.
When you enter the house, you find Mando closer to the door than you thought. Odd, but not unwarranted. Crix breezes to his room, claiming the sleepy tea made him exhausted, and leaves you alone with the bounty hunter.
“Where’s the bounty?” you ask after an uncomfortable silence. Mando points to the corner at the man, gagged, bound, and unconscious. But not tied to anything. “He won’t escape?” Mando shrugs, and his armor gleams from the moonlight. 
“I broke his ankles. He won’t run anytime soon. Once he’s in carbonite, he’s not a problem.” Mando walks over to you, a hulking man of metal, and gently brushes his knuckles against your cheeks. “Does that scare you?” You gulp. 
“No,” you say. Because you’re not. You think. You know how Mando can get, how all bounty hunters act when the prey is caught and the hunt ends. But breaking a man’s ankles seems unnecessarily cruel but- you know Mando would never hurt you.
“No, I’m not,” you smile, leaning into the gloved hand that now cups your cheek. This is what you wanted, right? For him to touch you like he loves you, like he’s a romantic interest in the holodramas, and you’re the main character. So why is your heart pounding with a little dread? 
“Good.” He pulls away from you quickly, and you almost want to bring him back closer but- you’re not foolish enough to think he’d like that. Mando is blunt, quiet, and scary. Independent. He doesn’t need a girl like you, lost and chirping away, tugging at his hand for affection. 
“Okay,” you reply because you don’t know what else to say. With that, you turn to Crix’s bedroom, but stop in your tracks. Would Mando…? 
No, he wouldn’t mind that you and Crix would share a bed, right? Crix had voiced his concern, but Mando had to see you weren’t interested in Crix like that. Besides, the couch is too small for both you and the bounty hunter. And there is no way Crix and Mando would share a bed. The thought almost makes you laugh, but you stop the sound from bubbling past your lips. 
And yet… 
You breeze into Crix’s room, tugging at the spare linens in his closet and stealing the second pillow off his bed. He shoots you a knowing smile, even winking at you which you pointedly ignore. Mando doesn’t say anything when you throw the couch cushions on the floor, doesn’t even move when you settle between the spare blanket, motioning for him to share the pillow.
Later, with Mando’s arm across your waist, armorless except for his helmet, you shut your eyes and try to sleep. You dream of stars and spaceships and siblings. 
*****
Mando had stayed behind with the bounty on the homestead when you and Crix left.   
He had wanted to leave the man’s injuries unattended, but he caved and allowed you to brace his ankle after you pressed a kiss to his helmet. The man cried when you did, almost reaching a hand out to touch you, but Mando stopped him.
“He’s a killer,” he said. You didn’t mention the fact that Mando’s a killer too. That he shot Ras Drun because he didn’t want others to kill him first and- you shove that thought out your traitorous mind. Killing is part of the job; he doesn’t like what he does. Mando is the only justice the galaxy can get, the type of justice that tracks criminals over systems.
When you and Crix reach Anchorhead it’s as dull as before, but the library isn’t. Small, dusty, and on the brink of collapse, the library teems with old books. Tatooine is decades behind on literature, but the stars don’t change much, and Crix secures you a book with paper pages. Paper! An outdated thing, yes, but the book is so beautiful. You thank Crix many times over, and he laughs it off like the good would-have-been brother-in-law he is. 
The book, titled The Scholar’s Guide to the Galaxy’s Stars and Systems, Edition Twelve, sits on the bottom of your bag. Crix pushes the bag, filled with tea and milk and bantha jerky, at you, making you promise to come back. 
You leave that night since Mando prefers travelling when the oppressive heat doesn’t cook him in his armor. He returns the speeder bike in Mos Eisley and drags the bounty through the sand, braced ankles and all. It’s a blessing that the man doesn’t wake up; you can’t comprehend the pain he’s going through, killer or not. It serves as another reminder that, much like Tatooine, the real galaxy is full of pain and suffering, more than the small glimpses you had back home.
The trip back to the Crest is silent, Mando not speaking even when you arrive at the ship, opting to open the hatch and climb right in without sparing you a word. 
You place the bag on the floor gently, mindful of the inner contents, and crouch down. The milk will go sour soon, so you should probably drink it now. Before you can continue contemplating what time to drink your blue milk, you hear the tell-tale signs of the carbonite sealing around the bounty. 
As the hiss dies down, you look towards Mando on the other end of the ship, then at the bounty’s face, mouth wide open in a silent scream. You wonder if the braces you gave him would be enough to help him heal while he spends time in his frozen prison. 
Sighing, you reach back into the bag to pull your book out when Mando suddenly towers over you. A bit spooked, you scoot back. 
He looks so large standing there, a mountain of metal. You know the corded muscles that sculpt his body; you know that if you reach out to the tiny spot below his ear, and give him a little kiss, he’d treat you with a groan. But it’s been so long since you two had any real time together (not counting last night because you both were tired), despite it being three or so days since you landed on Tatooine. Your face heats up at the memory. 
You expect him to reach out to you, to speak and say what’s on his mind. Instead, Mando pushes past you and heads up the ladder. It stings like rejection, but you push the feeling down. You have no right to feel that way. 
After a minute or so, the ship rumbles, and you feel the Crest rise into the air. You should’ve gone up with him, so you can help plot the coordinates on his next bounty or something. You want to be more useful, less like a burden. 
With another sigh (geez, when did you get so gloomy?), you trudge up the ladder and into the cockpit. Mando sits in the main chair, broad and unwavering as always. For a moment, your throat goes dry, and you wonder what to say. Thankfully, he beats you to it.
“We’re going to Cato Neimoidia,” he says, not bothering to face you as he speaks. 
You calculate the distance on your fingers, almost surprised at how quick the journey would be. You’ve never ventured that far into the galaxy before, much less to a Neimoidian purse world. “That’ll be, what, five and a half days of travel?” Mando wheels his chair around. 
“Yes,” he says, curtly. Oh. Well all right. You fiddle your fingers a bit, unsure on how to proceed. It’s always been slightly awkward around Mando, but you got used to it. Now? Now, there’s something different, an underlying tension you’re not quite sure you like. 
Suddenly, you’re reminded of the last time you were in the cockpit, horny and frustrated. Back then, you still had faraway dreams of tracing your brother’s path. But when you finally got the answers you ached to have… that means it’s all going to end, right? You should’ve stayed with Crix when he gave you the chance. Because as much as you want to stay with Mando, maybe he doesn’t want you to. But he did offer to continue your piloting lessons, and he never explicitly said he’d kick you out. 
“W-would you like some milk?” you ask after a long, long time of standing. “We should finish it before it spoils. Crix said-”
“I know what he said.” Mando turns around, and that’s as big of a dismissal as you’re going to get. It stings, just a little, to be pushed aside so easily but- what can you expect? He doesn’t owe you anything even if you wish he had a little more tact. 
So you hurry downstairs to your bag and split the glass of milk between two packed cups. You leave yours downstairs, a snack for when you read your new book, and take Mando’s up the ladder, careful not to spill. 
When you re-enter the cockpit, Mando has his head in his hands. “Are you all right?” He flinches at your voice, not bothering to acknowledge your presence. You set the cup down on a flat surface, making sure it won’t spill on the controls you only just managed to remember. Looking at them now, you can barely tell which meter is the gauge for the hyperspace fuel and which one is for the oxygen levels in the ship.  
“Yes,” Mando replies, and you realize you had forgotten what you even asked. Without a thank you, he picks the cup up, and you take your cue to leave him his privacy. When you descend the ladder, you fight the urge to throw your forehead against the wall and scream.
Why is he being so kriffing cold? Why? Things were good before Tatooine. Great, in fact. Those three days were both nerve-wracking and exhilarating. And the cantina? Stars, you almost gave him a handjob in public! So you don’t understand why Mando is being so- so stiff. 
Part of you thinks you should’ve known this might happen, that your days of happiness and bliss wouldn’t last. He’s a bounty hunter, not a prince. Bounty hunters don’t wear their hearts on their sleeves; that’s a business infraction. But another part says that he might’ve changed. Might’ve actually wanted to be nice, and that, beneath all that metal, he’s still a man. A man with toned muscles and a stiff co-
Okay. You should probably stop there. You’re mad at him, right? 
Shit. You don’t know what to do if you’re mad at him or if he’s mad at you. You wish Crix were here; he’d give you great advice.
And suddenly you have a bright thought, a glaring epiphany. Crix. You remember how quick Mando was when he slammed Crix into the wall and threatened him. You thought he got over the initial animosity since he allowed you to stay on Crix’s homestead while he did his job. Maybe Mando stayed territorial, possessive. But while your growing arousal surges at that thought, another part of you shivers. 
Yes, you like the feeling of him dominating you in bed. But dominating your affections? Your emotions? Who you could care for or be around? That doesn’t sit right with you at all. Especially since he has the gall to be jealous over your long-dead brother’s fiance. 
With a sudden spike of anger, you take a sip of your milk for some much-needed energy and climb the ladder once more. 
Before Mando can even turn in his seat, fully helmeted with an untouched cup of milk on the console, you wheel his chair around yourself. 
“Why are you like this?” you say, not really sure what you mean, but you know you have to get this off your chest. 
“What?” 
“This,” you wave your hands in his general direction. “Cold and mean. We were fine before- before Tatooine, and we come back, and you’re all grumpy. You don’t say anything on the ride here. You don’t say thanks when I give you milk. And you don’t even know what you’re doing wrong! I just don’t get it, and you don’t have any right to-”
Mando cuts you off by grabbing your wrists and pulling you in until you’re sprawled over his lap. “What-”
“Can you please shut up?”
“No,” you glare, your reflection distorted on his helmet. You try to wiggle away, but his grip is too tight.
“Listen to me. Can you- stop moving. I get it. You want to go back to that shit planet and be with your new boyfriend. But you said you wanted to learn to fly, and that little rebel farmer doesn’t even have a ship.” 
You freeze, unable to process what he said. But when you do, you become infuriated.
“Boyfriend?! What boyfriend? Last time I checked, Mandalorian, you’re the closest person to fit the bill! Did you really think Crix and I are- are dating? You and I slept on the floor last night! Together. I know you have a bucket on your head every day, but are you actually that dense?” You don’t know where the sudden venom in your voice comes from, but it’s there, glaring and loud and stinging.
You try to squirm away, too angry to deal with the blank, metal facade in front of you, but Mando pulls you tighter to his chest. “You seemed so happy with him, and told him about your parents that I thought-”
Wait. 
What? 
What do your parents have to do with anything unless- he heard you, didn’t he? Heard you cry and sob about missing them. And somehow, your words made him believe that you and Crix…  
“You thought what?” you say, softer, forcing the bite out your voice.“He asked about my parents, Mando. So I told him. Just because he’s a guy I’m friends with doesn’t mean I’m attracted to him.”  
“Oh.” He sounds so… sad yet still gruff. Resigned. It almost breaks your heart, and for a moment you let yourself wonder about his personal life, about his parents. He’s never mentioned them, and you highly doubt he’d start talking now, but-
“You can always ask,” you say, and Mando brushes a finger against your cheek. “But next time, please don’t jump to conclusions. For both our sakes.”
“Hmm.”
You take a moment to linger in the aftermath of your miscommunication and- Maker, you feel so proud of yourself. For being able to handle the situation without any lasting consequences, for not fumbling over your words despite feeling overwhelmed. You might be a little high on adrenaline (his accusation almost gave you a heart attack), and you really, really want to laugh, or cry or sleep but- you hold it in. 
It’s ridiculous to think of Crix as anything other than a brother. But given that Mando is a touch-starved, emotionally stunted bounty hunter who can’t even show his face or divulge his name, he didn’t understand how simple your relationship with Crix is. How can anyone reach the conclusion that you and Crix are an item when you gave up an actual bed to sleep on the hard floor with Mando?
“Are you angry with me?” he asks after a long while. You shake your head immediately. No, you’re not angry. Or even scared. Because, while Mando breaks his bounty’s ankles or shoots them point blank, he’s still vulnerable enough to ask if you're angry with him. To grow soft at the mention of parents.  
You move to get up, but two gloved hands on your hips stop you. What-
Something hard and stiff presses against your inner thigh, and you fight the urge to squeal. Only now, far departed from that dirty cantina, do you remember the familiar feeling of want nestled in your stomach. You forgot how much you craved more of Mando’s body until his actual boner juts into your thigh, a reminder of what exactly will come next. 
And while some part of you wants to be petty and leave him hanging for being a jerk who talks first before thinking, you also desperately want him to take you right there in the cockpit. Or rather, you just want to be in his arms forever. 
“Fuck,” Mando grunts when you adjust yourself in his lap. “Eager, aren’t you?” 
“You’re one to talk,” you breathe out, hands already reaching between your bodies to where his cock tents, stiff and proud. You debate taking off his thigh armor but decide against it even though you really want to feel his muscular thigh. 
Bringing one hand to your mouth, Mando lets you take his glove off with his teeth, and you take a moment to appreciate his darkened skin, calloused and large. Together, you and Mando pull his pants down just enough for his cock to slip out and- Maker, it’s so much better seeing him in the light like this. The veins, slight curve, the leaking-
With a jolt, you realize that this is the first time you’ve ever seen any inch of unprotected skin (aside from his wrist). Maybe it’s a step in the right direction, an achievement to show that he’s willing to reveal parts of himself. 
You spit into your hand, much like the way you first touched him so long ago, and reach for him. You give him firm, slow strokes, and Mando rewards you with a groan. There’ll be no kissing this time, you mourn sadly, but he might give you access to his neck. The thought makes you giddy. 
With a little maneuvering, you manage to tug enough of Mando’s clothes down and reveal his equally tanned skin underneath. He lets you, surprisingly, but jolts when you first press your lips on the dip above his collarbone. His cock even twitches in your hand. 
Mando gets tired eventually, though, and he wrenches your own pants to your knees. You stand up for a moment, basking in his attention, and undress the whole way, throwing the pants on the floor, soon followed by your shirt and undergarments.
Kriff, you feel all the blood in your body burning, aching for more Mando, for more of him, helmeted or not. He eases a finger into you, and you gasp, body opening up again after a few days of celibacy. He presses the pad of his finger right into the ridged, highly sensitive part of you, and you drool against his neck.  
“F-fuck, Mando, right-” 
You climax not soon after, two of Mando’s fingers curved upwards into you while one thumb rests above your clit. When Mando slides between your folds and begins thrusting, it’s like the past few days never happened, and you’re right back normal. A simple girl with dreams of following her brother through space. A girl with a useless, hopeless crush on a masked bounty hunter. 
It takes you begging for his helmet to come off to make Mando twist you around so your back presses against his chest. The position is new and exhilarating, and it sends shivers of excitement up your spine. 
Mando touches you, all of you, and as his mouth sucks wet hickeys on your throat, he thrusts up into you. There’s no measured pace, no cadence with his motions. It’s pure, wild fucking and- there’s something like desperation there. 
With him squeezing a nipple in one hand and covering your eyes with the other, it’s up to you to rub your clit, chasing down a second high as your head lolls back to rest on his shoulder, chest heaving from Mando’s rough thrusts.
Moments later, bright white flashes behind your eyelids, you’re entire head going fuzzy and airy and wired and- fuck, you go limp in Mando’s arms. With a drawn-out groan, he finishes inside you, a trickle of his release gliding down your aching thighs.
When you think it’s time to go, Mando keeps you there, and you feel him soften, sometimes twitching. It’s… new but not unwanted. In fact, the whole experience has been something novel, a new achievement indeed. He presses a gentle kiss to your ear, and you swoon, happy to pretend for a little longer.
Promising to keep your eyes closed, you allow yourself to be picked up and off his lap as Mando grabs his helmet from the floor, groaning at the sudden emptiness. And, when your eyes begin to droop and you don’t need to force them closed, you let him tuck you into a co-pilot chair, his cape draped over you like a blanket.
*****
Din doesn’t remember why he first asked you to join him on Tatooine. All Din knows is that he didn’t want to leave you behind on the Crest, all sad and lonely, especially not after he fucked you for three days straight. 
And it’s not like you ask to come to missions, only prompting questions about the next destination, so Tatooine would be a change of pace. 
You were mildly interested in Nevarro, but while he’d left you behind on the Crest before, he didn’t dare bring you there. If Paz catches wind of you— weak and starry-eyed—the whole Covert would wonder why Din would choose someone so soft. But Din doesn’t want you to make more younglings for the Covert; boiling down your purpose to a breeder seems so… demeaning. No, he doesn’t really know why he wants you next to him. Something about you makes him… start questioning things. 
So he takes you to Mos Eisley, buys you a drink as if he were just another man, and watches as you almost gag at the taste. It stings a bit, but what did he expect? Din Djarin is not the definition of a “good date” and never has been. 
And then he has to control himself when your pretty little hand cups him through his pants with the promise of more. Fuck, the dirtiest words escape your mouth. You surprise him, but he should’ve known that you’re a little vixen under all your awkward fumbling. Or rather, you grew more confident to show that side of yourself after a month under Din’s rough tutelage. After all, you’re very different from the stuttering girl who spilled details on one elusive Devaronian bounty. 
Everything in the cantina goes well, the buildup of something dirty and satisfying just barely out of reach. Then you go and meet that odd, grimy, ex-rebel, and Din has to watch you smile at his stories and stay at his farm. 
He thinks of you during the entire hunt despite the rational part of his head telling him to stop. You are… well, Din doesn’t know what you are. What your relationship is. Are you his girlfriend? Would that make him a boyfriend? Din doesn’t know how to be a boyfriend. The word itself seems a little… immature. Young. Juvenile. And Din is too old to be using those words. 
He’s only ever had lovers, most of them seedy, and no one near serious. But you- you sleep in his bed, allow him to ravage your inexperienced body, and clean up the ship. You want to learn to fly, want to trace your brother’s footsteps, want to seem like an older woman rather than the small girl you are. 
He wants to be at the farm with you, have you on a real bed regardless if there’s company (but he really does not want to share) but- there’s a bounty to catch. And if Din takes out his personal frustrations on the boy, he’ll never tell. Thankfully, the kid’s already weak ankles break easily. Gagged, bound, unconscious. Easy money. 
But when he arrives to see you and Crix watching the kriffing sunset together, he feels an ugly coil settle in his stomach. 
And fuck, Crix gives you everything you want. He knew your brother. He was a pilot who could teach you better than Din can. And Crix makes you smile and laugh and talk about the personal details of your life that you never divulged to Din. Even worse, Crix is still young, younger than Din. And you’re fresh and green, barely into adulthood and- and Din used you. 
He knows you were willing, but he still thinks himself a little monstrous for taking advantage of you. Cabin fever, his shebs. All his talk of taking it slow led to three days of sex, three days of leaving you in the dark about everything in his life while he takes and takes and takes from your innocent body. 
Din resolves himself to be silent, to not make your departure from Tatooine any harder than it has to be. Half of him thinks you would actually stay with Crix, and he’s happy you don’t. But he hears you talk about your parents, and Din, for an achingly long moment, wonders if you'll ever share that information with him. 
He wonders if his parents would have liked you. And shit- he hasn’t thought about them for years, not after Death Watch showed him the Way, and Din Djarin became Mando. The fact that you- an unassuming, stuttering girl makes him remember, makes him question… he doesn’t know what to think about that. 
His only reprieve is holding you at night on the hard floor of another man’s house where he can’t even take his helmet off to kiss you. You’re as soft as ever and Din… Din feels emotions other than lust when he hugs you close.  
Then he returns to the ship, and Din’s constantly reminded of Crix everywhere. Your little book about the stars— an interest that you never told Din before. The tea sashays you bring: a drink you actually enjoy instead of Din’s atrocious gift at that cantina. Hells, the milk you pour into a cup and give to him. 
And then- then you storm back up, demanding to know why he’s acting cold and blunt, not realizing that he’s building his walls because of you. With his heart caught between his ribs, he only says what he thinks is true. That you and Crix have to be together because there’s no way in all of Corellia’s hells that you like Din as much as he likes you.
Fuck, it feels so good to admit that in his head. He likes curling you into his chest at night, likes draping an arm around your shoulder at seedy cantinas, likes kissing you senseless. Likes teaching you everything whether it be sex or piloting or carbon freezing. 
Before you, he resigned himself to thinking of himself as more metal than man. More Creed than person. He was Mando like all other Mandos, plain and simple. 
With you, he can be Din Djarin. He can approach a past buried under pain and devotion to the Way. 
He wants you to understand, just for a bit, how he’s in pain at the thought of not having you. Because he knows for a fact that if you were to leave… he’d go right back to being Mando the bounty hunter, one of many other bucket heads, follower of a stiff creed from a broken planet.  
So right now, angry and hurting, he pours out his frustrations only for you to respond back with more determination and grit that he’s ever seen. And while the jealous, irrational part of him says Crix made you stronger, he’d be blind to not realize that no man could change you. He has no right to say that he’s the one responsible for your new-found strength.
While Din taught you not to stutter and how to suck cock, you grew up on your own. No longer chasing long dead relatives but now your own desires. Din’s happy you chose him to continue to be in your life, so fucking happy and reassured and safe. 
So he stops you from leaving and shows you just what you do to him. 
He takes you right there in his chair, even taking his helmet off to kiss your neck because he needs you. All of you. When he finishes inside you and keeps himself there, he almost confesses his fucking feelings like the love drunk fool he is. But the words don’t tumble past his lips, not even as a whisper or murmur. 
Din feels how tired you are, though, too tired to head down the ladder yourself. So he dresses you back in your shirt and tucks you into the co-pilot chair, snuggled under his unfastened cape. He watches you sleep, as creepy as that sounds, and sips the milk. It’s an odd taste, and he doesn’t know why you like it so much. 
He doesn’t know a lot about you actually. You said that he only had to ask about your life, and you would answer. But that might mean giving up his own history, and Din’s pretty sure he’s not ready for that anytime soon. 
Din buckles down in the chair, refraining from thinking about the events that happened a few minutes prior. He watches the NavComp chirp the coordinates to Cato Neimoidia and thinks about the next target, a girl slightly younger than you. Wanted because she killed the man who slaughtered her family. If Din had a stronger moral compass, he wouldn’t take the job but- he needs the credits to support you. And the younglings back on Nevarro. 
He only hopes you don’t find out the grisly details of the job and, since Guild members don’t ask questions, he won’t know more than he needs to. Because he doesn’t know what he’d do if you reacted badly to the truth about his next bounty. Doesn’t know what he’d do if you realize he really is a bad man who preys on weak, young girls, whether or not he had to stow them on his ship in the middle of a firefight. 
Sighing, Din spares one last look at you before heading downstairs. He picks up the book Crix bought you, flips through the pages, and settles on your home planet. For the next hour or so until you wake up, Din memorizes every single bit of information about your home world, ingraining then in his head. He wants to say he’s doing it out of curiosity but the growing romantic in him says that he simply wants to impress you. 
So he learns about the local vegetation, biomes, unique animals, big cities. The singular page devoted to the planet is half scientific, half cultural. There’s a big festival coming up, and Din pulls up a galactic standard calendar. If he catches the next bounty within a month, he might be able to bring you back home in time for it. 
He thinks you’d like to be back home, if not for the festival then for your parents. He remembers what you said about them, about the too-big clothes and Naboo lemon tarts. Selfishly, Din wants to celebrate the festival with you, wants to know what it’s like to have fun with someone he likes, wants to see your face light up with surprise and joy because it’s Din, not anyone else, who brings you home. 
And, with a nervous fidget, he imagines what it would be like to meet your parents. What their reactions would be to seeing their precious daughter with a Mando bounty hunter bound by a code that hides his face. They won’t like me, he thinks sourly, but at least you do. Snorting, he realizes this is the first time he’s ever entertained the thought of seeing someone’s parents. How… domestic. 
By the end of his reading, Din feels more confident, more self-assured than he’s been in a long time. He’ll show you how he feels when he’s ready. And he hopes that, when the time comes, you aren’t scared off. 
a/n: sorry this chapter took a week to x-post on tumblr! I’ve been having major computer issues and had to get a new one :(
read chapter six
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frostbitten-written · 3 years
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“Alright then. I guess I’ll make an exception. Surprise me, Loki.” She couldn’t help but be playful; it was in her nature, it was the basis of her personality. “Thank you,” she said quietly. She rolled her shoulder and stretched her body a bit. She fixed her dress before answering him, “I think I’m fine. You haven’t broken me; don’t worry. I’m tougher than I look; promise.”
Little misfortune could be had in the simple selection of a drink, but her response still surprised him. A nod of his head indicated he heard her request and also his acceptance of her gratitude. It was the least he could do.
As for her strength, well, he had no intentions of testing that this evening. Yet.
A lift of his chiseled chin and steady eye contact brought the bartender to their side of the bustling bar. "Another double of your finest whiskey and a cosmopolitan, thank you."
His eyes never left the bartender's hands until the drinks were placed in front of them, wary and watchful even if very few Midgardian substances had any sort of ill effect on his system. The presence of the beauty sitting at his side was inoffensive in the least, and pleasant at the best. She did not prattle on endlessly just to fill the space as so many did. The quiet only increased his desire to know what existed behind those big, brilliant eyes.
“Uhm, Loki?” She paused thinking of the right way to approach the topic.
“I want to be upfront with you. I know who you are; I recognise you from the TV.” She chuckled sheepishly before continuing. “Don’t worry, I’m not judging you and neither is it my place to judge. I just want to be honest with you; I think you have a right to know, you know?
An arch of his brow preceded the turn of his head to openly study her following the admission. Countless conversations derailed with the realization of his identity, but she was not tossing her drink into his face nor casting warrantless aspersions on his character.
And yet she did not read as the hungry fans who wanted an evening with a god as a notch on their bedpost, or bragging rights to their friends. If that were the case she would have been much more forward in her approach.
"I appreciate your honesty." A sip of dark, smokey whiskey parted his lips as he regarded her coolly. "It is much preferred to know where I stand with an individual at the beginning of our conversation."
“I’d like to get to know you, through your own words?” She asked him, hopeful and genuinely.
Nothing about her countenance suggested her words to be anything but earnest. Never in his many years has anyone wished to get to 'get to know him' without some ulterior motive driving their actions. Whether it be his place in Asgardian royalty, the unmistakable power thrumming beneath his alabaster skin, or as a stepping stone in their personal journey into self-discovery, he was a tool to be used just as anyone else.
So what service did she require?
She smiled and hesitantly reached out to him. She held his hand and offered a kind smile, unconsciously running her thumb over his knuckles. “I hope that’s still a possibility, Loki?”
Warm and soft, her touch startled him moreso than if she had pulled a dagger from her dress in the same motion. Every muscle in his lean body tensed before he forced himself to relax, to allow her to progress with whatever her plans were for this evening. This fair mortal captured his interest and piqued his curiosity, a combination he was particularly prone to pursuing.
"It will be a much higher possibility if I am given your name in return for the chance at this information you seek," he replied, the hint of a grin making itself known at the flutter of endearment threatening to entrap his heart.
-Loki
(Please, I’m smiling like an idiot. My heart! 🥰)
She smiled and kept silent when he ordered a whiskey for himself and a cosmopolitan for her. Of course, he took her for a cosmo girl; how very Sex and the City of him. He’d learn soon enough.
Their discussion went surprisingly well and she was pleased with how it turned out. Her honesty wasn’t in vain and it made her feel relieved.
"It will be a much higher possibility if I am given your name in return for the chance at this information you seek," he replied, the hint of a grin making itself known at the flutter of endearment threatening to entrap his heart.
“Oh gosh, right! I’m such a fool!” She swallowed her drink and giggled, shaking her head. “I never told you my name and I apologise. My name is Indie Mangrove. Just call me Indie. There’s no need for formalities. Nice to meet you, Loki.”
She fell silent momentarily, embarrassed she accepted his offer for a drink before even sharing her name, but for some reason, she couldn’t care less. She wasn’t really enjoying herself until he showed up. He made her feel careless, a little more so than she was comfortable with, but it was freeing, fleeting and a feeling she wasn’t going to take for granted.
“Thank you,” she repeated again quietly, “for the drink.”
“Someone ordered me a drink earlier tonight,” she motioned to the bloke sitting a few seats away from them. “Not my type,” she whispered playfully before sipping the cocktail. The drink wasn’t too sweet or tart, and it was quite fragrant. “Honestly, I didn’t like how he was looking at me,” she mumbled to no one in particular.
Her boldness fought its way to the surface yet again when she playfully eyed him and reached for his drink instead. “And next time, I’ll have what you’re having, mister.” She winked before sipping his drink and sliding it back over to him. She always loved a nice glass of whiskey. It went down like fire but settled like honey.
“Now, enough about me, unless you have any questions then feel free to ask, but tell me about you?” She looked at him expectantly, a twinkle of curiosity in her eyes.
“Do you like to dance?” She nodded her head to the dance floor before firing another question at him. “I do, but the partner stuff, like the waltz, you know?” She smiled innocently, the dreamy look in her eyes disappeared just as quickly as they came.
“How about reading? I know those two don’t relate whatsoever, but I love to read... and write.” Before she could say anything else, she clapped a hand over her mouth and bit her lip.
“Sorry, I’m rambling and I’m so sorry if it’s annoying!” She shook her head, took a deep breath in and took a sip of her drink, giggling quietly to herself. She didn’t fit into the bar scene and that conversation alone made it painfully obvious. She bit the inside of her cheek. On top of that, she was awkward. How he was even still sitting and listening to her was beyond her, but she was grateful!
- Indie
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multmilk · 4 years
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Strawberries and Cigarettes | l.t
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Pairing: idol!Taeyong x idol!reader
Genre: angst
Warnings: Use of cigars/smoking, character death, a bit of smut
Word count: 2.6k
He was from SM and you were from JYP. He was a member of 3 boy groups and you were a solo artist. His genre was more of pop while you make rnb. The two of you were working on opposite sides of the world so when you received the news that the two of you were collaborating, you were bewildered.
Now you were sitting alone inside a coffee shop waiting for Taeyong. You knew he was a talented man—a rapper, a composer and a hell of a good dancer. You’ve watched a lot of fancams out of pure curiosity and you were surprised that you had the pleasure of getting to work with him.
“Y/N?” a rich and foreign voice said, looking up at him you felt your heart skip a beat at his appearance. His hair was brown and it had some streaks of gray to it, it was a little disheveled but it still looked good. He was wearing a black long-sleeved shirt that made the veins in his hands more prominent, a dangling earing on his ear that added more charisma to him.
“I’m Lee Taeyong,” he smiled. Ooooh fuck he looks good, his voice sent shivers down your spine. You gestured for him to sit down across of you. This is going to be interesting, you thought.
----
It’s been a month since the two of you worked together. You mostly worked in his apartment, though his members lived there with him, they respected you and treated you like their family. They leave when the two of you work so that you could focus and they wouldn’t create ruckus.
You weren’t fully comfortable with him yet and you know he felt the same way too. You always sat on the edge of his bed while he sat on his chair across you. It was hard to work with someone so new, someone who’s a stranger. You had to be careful with every step you take—and although that being cautious is good, it’s difficult to not voice out your ideas to him because you’re afraid of him judging of what you thought.
You two were working on an album that focuses on the issues of society today. You had two solo songs, he had two solo songs and then there were two songs that features the both of you.
Your first song tackles about the beauty standards of men and women of our generation. How men aren’t allowed to wear make-up because it makes them look more feminine and how women should have this petite figure and if they don’t look what society expects them to look like, they do not belong in this place.
Your next song focuses on gender roles. Women can have a job that is expected to supposedly be for men and vice versa. Also, how people should be respected no matter their chose of job. Whether they are sex workers, drag queens or a waitress—each should be treated equally.
Taeyong’s first song is about corruption in politics and the politicians that don’t uphold the values and  morals of a good leader and how in turn, makes a country incompetent and their people ignorant.  
His next song is about the challenges faced by the mass. Poverty, treated unequally, high medicine fee and all things in between. What the two of you have worked on alone is a masterpiece.
Right now you were stuck inside his room, diverting your attention towards anything but making the music together. You’ve asked him for help and he did that but working on two whole songs together just seems a bit out of your comfort zone.
“What about pizza?” he asks “I don’t think pizza is a good top-“ you got cut off with his laugh. It was a hearty one too, not the chuckles you hear he lets go once you accidentally do or say something funny.
“I meant maybe you want me to get a pizza delivered? Maybe it’ll help remove this,” he gestured to the space between us, “Tension?” you just laughed, probably because you felt stupid and embarrassed for not catching his drift but you agreed to get pizza.
You and Taeyong are now seated on each side of his bed sharing a box of pizza. For the past hour, you two have been sharing stories and jokes like childhood friends catching up. You’ve learned that he has a passion for understanding arts, he’s really good at playing video games and he likes listening to Drake.
Neither of you initiated to start working on your songs but you liked the time you were using to get to know him. He was kind, gentle and warm.
There were numerous spotlights surrounding Taeyong. The photographer asked him to try different poses and to relax but for some reason, his shoulders were too tense and his hands were shaking a bit. You and Taeyong started hanging around a lot when you two decided to write your music. You two hung out in his apartment where his members stay and spend time with the two of you, you hung out in the convenience store eating ice cream and telling jokes. You didn’t have many friends in the music industry and now you consider Taeyong as your best friend.
He looked good, you thought. He was sporting a gold glittered blazer with a black top beneath it, 3 layered chokers and he was wearing the dangling earrings you loved so much on him.
You walked towards Taeyong and said, “Yong, look at me,” he let out a breathy laugh but kept his head down. Putting your fingers under his chin and tilting his head upwards you ask, “What’s wrong?” he closes his eyes and exhales “I smell strawberries,” your eyes widened at his statement. “S-strawberries?” “Yes, strawberries,” he then looks at your eyes and continues “Before my best friend died, she asked me to fetch her strawberries. So, I went to the hospital and see her having a seizure. Doctors were all around her, her boyfriend was frantic and I dropped the jar of strawberry jam. It was the last time I ever associated myself with the fruit,” then he laughs. You apologize and say that it probably was your perfume but he tucks your hair behind your ear and says that it was fine.
This whole time you were talking the photographer took candid photos of you and Taeyong and claimed that it was good for the album cover already. Taeyong kisses your cheek and feel blush creep in on your face.
You were going to sleep well today.
---
The both of you were in Amsterdam to film your music video. You were dressed in a black laced bustier top paired with black flared pants and Taeyong is wearing a white button up top.
It’s been an hour of filming and Taeyong has been showering you with compliments. Your relationship has gotten to the point where you two flirt shamelessly and honestly, you didn’t have any complaints.
As the crew and directors all were huddled to talk about the next scene, you were out smoking looking at the museums and buildings surrounding you.
“You didn’t tell me you smoked,” Taeyong stalks toward you and keeps his hands inside of his pockets. “You never asked. Want to join me?” “No thanks. I quit after she died,” you nod.
“Do you believe in heaven and in hell?” you ask and then he stands beside you, “Move away from me Yong, you’re going to get cancer from second-hand smoking you know,” “I believe that if we die, we’re just going to live a life with eternal darkness and quietness and loneliness,” he answers your question and ignores your previous statement. “I do believe in God, yes, but if we die and then that’s it. Do you believe in it?” he asks, “I believe that we do go to heaven or hell based on the actions and choices we’ve made in our borrowed time living here,” you say.
“What separates the people who will enter heaven to those who will enter hell? I mean, humans make pretty bad and wrong decisions. If hurting a person, unintentionally and intentionally, is just the basis for us to live a life in paradise or in damnation then I guess we’re all fucked huh?” you both laugh. You throw your cigarette to the trash can near you and stick your hand out for Taeyong to hold.
---
The first time you and him kissed was after your comeback stage.
It was hot, it was messy and you felt like flying. He told you you tasted like strawberries mixed with the after-taste of cigars. You just laugh and continue kissing down his neck.
He tugged at your hair and removed the strap off of your dress. You got on your knees and unbuckled his belt.
As the night went further and your relationship progressed, he had told you that he loves you and that you indeed smell like strawberries. And as much as he dislikes the fruit and what comes with it, if loving you means he has to smell and taste like strawberries for the rest of his life then so be it.
You slept with a smile on your face, head on Taeyong’s chest and his arms caging you for protection.
---
You were hysterical.
You had rushed Taeyong into the ER as soon as your comeback stage had ended. You were supposed to go out and celebrate with him, announce the tour you were having but all your plans had ended once you saw the he had coughed up blood and was having a hard time breathing.
Machines and tubes were stuck in his body, his unconscious body. You held his hand for the longest time that day and you weren’t planning on letting go.
You woke up with Taeyong speaking to the doctor and you saw that they were having a serious conversation. “Taeyong?” he looks at you, a little startled. He ushers the doctor to leave and says to you, “Hey, you should go back to sleep,” you ask what the doctor said and he just simply says that it was a bad bad bad case of food poisoning. You were apprehensive but you didn’t want to push it any further, he needed his rest after all.
That was the first mistake you made.
---
The second mistake was smoking around him. You wanted to stop but it had helped you through the sleepless nights and when you were overthinking.
The third mistake was pushing through with the tour. It was his idea, saying it was the least you two could do for your fans but it was your fault for supporting it.
The last straw was watching him being taken away by the paramedics and staying kneeled and glued to the stage as they rushed him into the hospital.
You arrived seeing doctors moving everywhere and getting paddles and shouting ‘clear’. You couldn’t stand to watch him as they revived his body. So, you took your pack of cigarettes and went outside.
By the time you finished three sticks, you decided to see how Taeyong was doing. Every step you took felt like it weighed tons, like your world was crashing but seeing and hearing the doctors call the time of his death? You felt that the world has ended.
You were screaming and crying and questioning everything and anything. You screamed and screamed until your cries had taken over and seeing Taeyong lying on his bed cold and lifeless, it shattered you.
---
Months after his death, you continued on with the tour.
Today, you were in Amsterdam and was about to finish the last song.
Right before you sung though, Taeyong’s voice rung around the concert hall. Everyone was quiet.
“Hey Y/N. If you’re hearing this it means that I’ve died. I have a few things to say so please listen.
From the first day I met you, I knew that I was going to fall in love with you but the minute I smelt your strawberry scent? I knew I had to distance myself,” he laughs.
“It was hard to though. It was the boys who pushed me to hang out with you more. It would benefit our work after all. Hence, the pizza mistaken as a song topic incident. From that moment on, I found myself liking you much more than I intended to.
Fast forward to all of our shared jokes and stories. Late night ice-cream stops at the convenience store. Breakfast dates. Coffee-stained sweaters and deep conversations while you smoked.
I knew that I fell in love with you the moment that your lips brushed mine. It was special, magical, felt like I was floating on cloud nine. I just let myself fall deeper until the moment you rushed me into the ER when I coughed up blood.
I needed you to stay away from me because I knew that it would happen. I am sorry, I am very sorry, that I didn’t tell you the truth.  Maybe if I had told you the truth you would’ve really stayed away from me but I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you and hurt you.
I am a smoker. I quit because my best friend died of second-hand smoking. It was my fault she died, it was my fault I hated strawberries and it’s my fault now that I left you without ever explaining the truth about me.
I don’t want you blaming yourself for not noticing the signs or for keeping on smoking. None of this is your fault Y/N.
I just didn’t want to lose the time knowing that you’d be so cautious around me. No, I wanted us to be as normal as we could ever be. I wanted more time with you but I guess this is for the best.
You deserve so much more this world could ever offer. You are a great person with a great personality, great talents, great body and a great heart.
I want- I need you to keep on using that talent and heart to inspire people all over the world to fight. We have achieved so much together and I want you to use this pain into art.
I loved you and I will love you even if my soul ends up in a cold and dark place. I will love you even if you choose to love another guy. I know, I know that I will be in your heart and that I will always have that one piece saved specifically for me.
I love you and your cigarettes. Your strawberry-flavored perfume scent, your strawberry-flavored shampoo and your taste when I kiss you after you smoke.
Your strawberries clung on to my shirts and sweaters, and it did hurt me at first because it brought back the memories of her but you gave me a new reason to love strawberries.
I love you, Y/N,” as he sings, the whole crowd were in tears and you were sat on the stage clutching your microphone near your heart.
You smile and look up at the ‘heavens’ as he sings,
“Strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you,”
(A/N: This is my first taeyong one-shot and i hope you liked it. i tried to be very angst-y haha. please send in requests aaand feeback is always appreciated!)
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untilspringdays · 4 years
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Entranced || One-Shot
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Summary: Being friends with idols earned you some pretty cool things. Not in the sense of items or money they had because you refused most of what they tried to get you. No, more so for you the coolest thing was being able to sit in on dance practices. So when your long time friend Jimin invites you to a collab dance practice you gladly accept. Except he didn’t tell you that one of your crushes, Lee Taemin, would be there, and you didn’t tell him that you have been holding feelings for him too. What happens when you see your long time friend, and one of your crushes dance together?
Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader x Lee Taemin
Genre: Idol || Smut, Fluff
Warnings: Smut, Biting Kink, Dom/Sub Undertones, Reader is a sub? Group sex, double penetration, not great at warnings.
Word Count: 9.6k
A/N: AHHHHHH!!! Its finally done!!! I have been working on this for so long, and I’m sure some of you saw the little thing I did for it. This is the first ever smut I have shared, I have written some before but that was mostly for friends but this I’m sharing with you guys. I’m honestly proud of it even if I know I have room to improve. My writing only goes up from here!!! 
✦ ✦ ✦ ✦
Oh no. Oh god no. You weren’t going to survive this practice. Let alone the one tomorrow when they actually had a handle on things. 
The look of dread on your face was equally returned by an evil smirk that your best friend was giving you in the mirror’s reflection. You clenched your teeth, resisting the urge to flip Jimin the middle finger. He knew who he was practicing with today and he invited you here knowing you had a crush on his dance partner. 
You curled back further into the wall, trying your best to remain out of the way, mostly. A small part of you trying to hide from the person that was going to be walking through those doors any second now. 
You see it wasn’t that long ago that your long time best friend, Park Jimin, found out about your crush on Lee Taemin. Of course you had met Taemin before. You have actually spent time with the very experienced idol inside of friend groups, and the occasional moment alone with him. You could say the two of you were friends that interacted on a somewhat regular basis when he wasn’t busy. He was a cute and sweet person you had come to learn, but not without his own uniqueness that made your face light up with a beaming smile. Not to mention the way he looked and acted on stage that made you weak in the knees, not that you would ever say that last part out loud. Certainly not to your best friend. 
While Jimin was your best friend, the one thing he didn’t know was that you had feelings for him too. Over the years of knowing him and being his friend, you had learned to hide your feelings, while some others managed to catch on to small little strings of affection you had for the older man, they simply assumed it was a passing crush. After all you wouldn’t ever do anything to risk your friendship with any idol you were friends with, let alone a long time friend like Jimin. 
Now comes your current predicament. Both of them had stage personas. Both of these personas being known for their strikingly good looks, suggestive dancing, and just their overall sexiness. 
You were sure you could get through today, but tomorrow? Oh you weren’t sure. Tomorrow they would be more confident in their moves, adding their own personal flair to their dance to make it well, them. 
And it wasn’t like you could escape the practice tomorrow. You already promised Jimin you would be there, and seeing how you were staying with him and the rest of BTS for friend catch up sleep over time, there was no way he wouldn’t drag you back to the practice room. 
The heavy door opening and closing, snapped you out of your thoughts of how screwed you and your hormones were. Your eyes settled onto the figure walking into the room approaching your friend. 
Taemin was always so beautiful to you. No matter what kind of clothing he was wearing. Stage, casual, practice or comfy, it didn’t matter. His Bright eyes.. his charming smile.. The way his hair fell on his face.. 
You let out a content sigh as you watched the two dancers interact, your attention focused on the partial side profile of Taemin. Your stare becoming dreamy, and wonder filled. Oh goodness you had it bad. 
A second later you instantly straightened out as soon as you noticed both of your friends looking at you. A knowing smirk on Jimin’s face, while Taemin just had a shining friendly smile. 
With an embarrassed smile, you waved at the two, well mostly as a greeting to Taemin, before curling in on yourself more. Augh! How could you let yourself get caught up in your emotions like that? You just completely made a fool of yourself in front of them both! Jimin was never gonna let you live that down, and you weren’t sure you could face Taemin for a bit after that. 
You lifted your eyes to look at the two boys from your somewhat secluded position. Your heart jumping in your chest as soon as you realized that Taemin was walking over to you. Was he going to tease you like Jimin would? Was he going to comment on what just happened at all? God you hoped not. 
Half way into his approach, the choreographer walked into the room stealing both of the idol’s attention. A sigh of relief escaping you. Silently thanking the instructor for the unknowing save. Your heart finally settling from the possible shock of an awkward conversation with your crush.
After a few minutes of discussion between the three, they set to work. While some moments weren’t the most exciting in the world, it still held your attention. You were always very interested in dancing. You had some skill in dancing from various idols teaching you things in passing, but you never had time to seriously learn. Besides, watching like this was good enough for you. Even the learning stages were awesome to you. It just showed how much hard work they put into everything. 
After an hour or two, you weren’t exactly sure, things became less focused. For them as well as you. Well mostly for you. While they had seemed to slow down in their learning pace, your eyes had started to wander from watching the movements of the dance and trying to learn it to wandering over your friends bodies. 
You watched as they rolled their bodies in sync to the beat, moving in such a sultry way that had you unconsciously licking your bottom lip before biting on it slightly. Your eyes wide, taking in every movement before you. 
You snapped out of your entranced moment as soon as the song cut again for the millionth time in the day. Mentally groaning and cursing at yourself for your actions. It didn’t matter if it had been a while since you had any intimacy. These were your friends for fucks sake! You needed to get a hold of yourself. You didn’t want to ruin any friendship you had with these two!
Quickly you pulled over your bag, pulling out your phone to distract yourself from what was happening.  Glancing up for just a small moment to see Jimin laying on the floor and Taemin sitting near by as the two took a break, water in hand. Good. They needed it. 
Your eyes returned to your phone, checking on your social media accounts. Nothing particularly interesting anywhere. You weren’t popular on any of them really, and that was just fine with you. You used the accounts mostly to have fun and see what the world was up to every so often. Of course you followed your friends accounts so you could keep track of what they were doing when they weren’t home. Though you wouldn’t ever try to keep in contact with them that way besides the occasional comment. No one needed to know your connection with any of them. It was safer for them and for you. They didn’t need rumors getting out and you didn’t want the attention. 
A call of your name pulled your attention away from your phone. Your face looking up from the screen for your eyes to meet with Jimin’s. 
“What do you think of the dance so far?” His eyes held a curiosity to them, and his voice was even despite how tired he looked at the current moment from practicing. 
“Umm..” You hummed out thinking back to the parts you had seen so far, trying to analyze them. You especially liked the last part but you couldn’t say it was because of the dance and not because of the two good looking people in front of you. 
“I like the start. It’s very interesting the way you have it set up. Nothing I see too often. Though I think the transition could be a bit smoother. Maybe throw something else in to make it easier?” You weren’t a professional or anything but you knew Jimin liked your input on these kinds of things but you didn’t know how Taemin would feel about it. “Might just be the spot I’m sitting at though…” You stated quickly after the fact not wanting to overstep. Sitting off to the side wasn’t the best spot to analyze their dancing but it was the best spot to stay out of the way. 
Jimin nodded at your words, taking in what you said before another voice stole your attention. 
“You can always move up front. If you want.” Taemin said making eye contact with you, not really bothered by your advice from a moment ago. “You could have a better angle, and be able to see our movements more." 
You quickly shook your head at the offer. "No. It’s alright. I’m okay where I am. Besides, I don’t want to get in the way. I’m not a dancer like you two are. My input doesn’t matter too much.”
“Your opinion does matter!” Jimin was quick to protest, Taemin nodding along in agreement. 
“Your our friend so of course we would want your opinion. Plus your dancing has come a long way.” Taemin’s voice following shortly after Jimin’s. Your heart warmed at the fact that they thought so highly of you and your opinion, and your partial skills in their trade. 
“But still I don’t want to be in the way while you guys are learning.” You mentioned. 
They both paused for a moment, both of them looking like they wanted to convince you otherwise, then you saw a look on Jimin’s face. One that he got when an idea was going to be bad for you. 
“She is going to be here tomorrow as well. She can always sit up front then.” Jimin mentioned looking directly at his idol friend. 
“That’s perfect.” The two had reached an agreement, something else seeming to be exchanged as they looked at each other.
Your eyes flicked back and forth between the two of them, a protest dying on your lips as the two got up to go back to practicing. Stopping to share a quick conversation which you assumed to be about the dance before actually getting back to the music.  
A quiet groan escaped you and you buried your face in your hands. You were so screwed.. 
The rest of the practice went rather uneventfully, at least that is what you wanted to say. Often you would focus on the dance and the moves trying to take them to mind, to get to a point where you could offer a better opinion on it than what you did earlier, but your mind would only stay focused for so long. 
A little less often you would find your eyes focusing on their bodies instead. Their movements causing you to shift in your spot. Pressing your thighs together to settle the warm feeling growing between them. 
At one point from your shifting you looked up in the mirror noticing Taemin’s eyes on you through the reflection. Your heart dropped hoping he didn’t notice anything. As your eyes met his, the older idol sent a wink your way before returning back to the routine. 
A bright blush crept on your face. The wink doing more things to you. You settled in your spot refusing to move too much anymore, not wanting to get caught shifting again. Your mind starting to wonder about things other than the dance. 
At one point Jimin had caught your attention. Your eyes locking with his in the mirror as he danced. His hands coming up to his chest and spreading across. His movements showing off his chest a bit as he felt himself up or seemed to be. 
Your mouth opening a bit as you got caught up in a trance. His tongue peeking out from his mouth, swiping across his bottom lip. His dark eyes staring you down for a second before the whole look was gone. The practice consuming his attention again. 
Done with thirsting after your friends for the day, you decided to bury yourself in your phone until it was time to go. 
By the end, neither of them mentioned what happened. Just friendly exchanges happening between the two as they both packed up. You remained silent the whole time, trying to feign being tired so you could avoid an awkward situation. Not wanting to broach the subject of the flirty looks either. After all with your neediness you were probably just imagining things. 
Jimin’s call of your name pulled you out of your silence, your attention turning to him as you stood by the door waiting to leave. 
“You can wait outside for me. I will just be a second.” He told you as he zipped up his bag. 
You nodded in agreement. Anything to get out of that room. To get away from both of them even for just a moment. “See you tomorrow Taemin.” You said to him before going out the door. Not even giving him a chance to respond. You would text him later to explain that you were just tired. 
Jimin appeared a moment later. The two of you falling into step and the usual friendly conversation in no time at all. You, completely unaware of the conversation that took place between the two men in the practice room. 
You were back in the practice room again. Taemin was already there when you and Jimin had arrived. The both of you greeted him with friendly smiles before he pulled you in for a hug, saying he didn’t get one yesterday. A blush rising on your face as a result but you tried to not let it bother you. 
You went to move to your usual spot before Jimin caught your hand, moving you in front of the mirror making you sit down with a cute pout on his lips. 
“We agreed you would sit up here today.” He said, the pout clear in his voice. 
You let out a small snort. “You and Taemin agreed. I just had to go along with it." 
"Well you are there now, might as well stay.” Your long time friend said, with his hands on his hips. 
You knew he wasn’t going to give up on it, so you had no choice but to agree. It was your turn to pout now. “Fine.." 
Taemin watched the whole exchange with amusement. It was easy to see how close the two of you were. Even in the small seemingly pointless interactions. He was a bit jealous over the fact that the two of you were close but hopefully that would all change soon.
He took this opportunity to speak to you. With his bright eyes set on you he spoke up. "How long have the two of you been friends?" 
Jimin perked up at his friend’s question. 
"We have been friends for a number of years. Before his debut… at one point we lost contact.” You stated, remembering how during part of his trainee days and the start of his debut he never talked to you or got in contact until randomly he messaged you about meeting up. “We reconnected again when he messaged me out of the blue. It wasn’t like any time had passed at all. It was interesting to see all of the changes he has gone through. I think he was glad to have his not famous best friend back.”
Jimin had a smile on his face. A light pink on his features as you recounted the story. The fact that your friendship came back so easily between the two of you had him happy. It was also true that he was happy to have you back in his life, but he was hoping to change that best friend status here soon. 
“How did you and Taemin meet?” He asked you playfully, very aware that it was because of him. He introduced the two of you, though it was more of a random introduction, and not really planned. It was just an incident of him running into Taemin while the two of you were hanging out, and then Taemin ended up tagging along. The three of you having a fun time, though it did take you a moment to warm up to the new person. 
You shoved him lightly, joining in on the bit of laughter. “Oh shut up you. You are very well aware of how we met." 
All eyes turned to a phone as an alarm went off, disturbing the conversation that was starting to form between the three of you. It also had startled you a little bit seeing how you were the only one not expecting it.
"That’s our que to practice Jimin.” The older man said, giving the younger a certain look you couldn’t quite understand. 
You weren’t sure if that was a skill that all idols had where they could communicate without saying anything or if it was a skill something among friends. Granted you couldn’t quite do it, so it must have been an idol thing. 
You watched as they both moved away from the spots they were in a moment ago, heading for the center of the practice room. 
“Don’t hit me while you guys practice. It was your idea to have me up here in the first place.” You warned them playfully. You wouldn’t be too pleased if you got hurt while sitting up here, but you knew they would never do it intentionally.
“Wouldn’t dream of it Princess.” Jimin said to you with a wink causing your face to break out in a blush. That was new… He never called you that before. Was there something he knew that you didn’t?
Shaking it off quickly you steeled your mind for the toture on your hormones you were about to endure. Hopefully you could keep your thirstiness to yourself. 
The first couple of run throughs they did, you had no issue at all. It seemed they had taken your suggestion from the other day but you weren’t too sure either. Everything at the beginning seemed to flow better, transitions a lot smoother, though if that was due to your suggestion or from the practice you weren’t sure.
When they asked, you gave your input on the dance, though you didn’t really have any suggestions to help improve the dance at this point anymore. Everything started to seem perfect to you, but they would stop and discuss every so often of what they could do better, how to improve the look of the performance in general. How they were able to notice these things you didn’t know.
They would also try to bounce ideas off of you despite your lack of input. You weren’t experienced enough to provide really anything but you appreciated their attempt to include you. Mostly you just sat and listened as they seemed to sort out the issues just by talking to you, granted you didn’t have much to say in return.
Soon the issues seemed to appear less and less, and the dance started to show elements of them. They also started to put more effort into it, not that they weren’t trying before, it just seemed to have more energy to you. It was hard for you to explain the change, but it always came no matter what practice you were watching. 
This is where things started to get harder for you. 
You watched them line up again to run the dance one more time before a break. Eyes flicking back and forth between the two of them, trying to keep your focus on the dance and not anything else but it was getting more difficult by the second. 
The confidence they exuded was making you weak. There was an occasional smirk, wink, or just down right sinful look thrown your way every so often, making you wonder what had gotten into them, or if you were just imagining it. As much as you tried to fight it and just be a good friend to support them, their movements were drawing you in. Every hand gesture, every hip movement was weakening you resolve. The body rolls certainly didn’t help either.
As the dance continued on you found yourself leaning forward more with interest, your eyes following their movements, pupils wide as need started to override your rational thinking. You were sure your eyes at one point looked down to somewhere they weren’t supposed to during a move. You tried to deny it for your remaining sanity at this point, but also praying at the same time they didn’t notice it. Oh, they did. 
They were watching you the whole time without you knowing. After the little bits and pieces they caught at yesterday’s practice, they paid attention to you this time around. At first there wasn’t anything interesting going on, but they watched as your resolve weakened because of them. 
They noticed as you started to lean forward with interest, watching how you shyly bit your lip trying to hold in your reactions as the dance progressed to the more intense parts. 
Once the part was reached, they noticed your glances as their moves accented certain parts of their body despite the practice clothes. Jimin had to hold in a small groan as he watched you lick your lower lip need and want becoming clearer and clearer on your face. 
Taemin bit his lip in return, which you noticed, but only thinking it was part of the act they were putting on for the dance. 
As soon as everything stopped, you noticed just how enthralled you were by them. You quickly straightened yourself out from the former position you were in, turning your attention away from the two men in front of you. You pulled out your phone, mostly pretending like you weren’t just checking them out the whole time. Also you were hoping for a distraction to calm yourself while they caught their breath. 
A stern call of your name had you quickly looking up from your device. Your eyes meeting Jimin’s as he was sitting on the floor trying to rest. He was leaning back on his hands, legs splayed out in front of him. His hair clinging to his forehead in certain spots because of sweat. Despite his tired demeanor, there was something about him that you couldn’t quite place. Something different that you haven’t seen before but it had certainly caught your interest.
“Come here.” It was a simple demand. Something you so easily could have denied but something in his voice, something in the way he was looking at you, had you deciding not to. 
Being a bit too afraid to stand up due to your weak kneed state earlier, you just moved over towards him as best as you could, despite how silly it probably looked. 
Once you reached him, you looked at him, eyes filled with a question that you couldn’t voice. The way he looked, the memories of the dance, and his gaze now resting on you had your voice failing you. 
It all happened so fast. You watched as he studied you for a moment, before one of his arms came up. His hand grasped your shirt collar, tugging you forward, and causing your lips to collide with his. 
Your mind went completely blank as you felt his warm pillowy lips on yours. Eyes going wide in shock before closing as you melted into the kiss that clearly wasn’t a mistake seeing how it was lasting longer than you anticipated. 
The way his lips melded and meshed with yours seemed perfect, almost too good to be true. You almost would have thought it was a dream if it wasn’t for a quick nip to your bottom lip. A small gasp escaped you as Jimin took the chance to slip his tongue inside your mouth. His tongue meeting yours eagerly. A small whine escaping you as the two of you tasted each other. Him trying to pull you closer with every passing moment, his want for you strong in his actions.
The two of you soon broke apart, a little string of spit connecting your lips before breaking apart as the two of you sat back. Both of your faces were flushed, and panting heavily from the intense kiss you had just shared. 
You were so caught up in Jimin’s dark gaze you hadn’t noticed Taemin had moved from his resting spot to over behind you. 
You were surprised as the older idol pulled you back into his lap. A certain hardness could be felt under you as he pulled you flush against his firm chest. If it wasn’t for the clear indication that he enjoyed what he just witnessed you would have been running out of the room from embarrassment. 
His soft hand drifted up your arm with a light touch that sent prickles down your spine, sending a warmness straight to your core. You were sure you were completely soaked down there if you weren’t before already from Jimin’s attention to your mouth. 
Taemin’s fingers caressed your jaw gently before pulling your chin to look over at him. You felt helpless under his dark lust filled gaze, but also restless as you waited for something to happen. HIs thumb grazed over your swollen bottom lip before he closed the distance between the two of you. Your lips connecting in a soft manner compared to the harsher kiss you had shared with Jimin earlier. You felt hands on your waist, toying with the edge of your shirt, but you didn’t pay it any mind as Taemin stole all of your attention with his wonderful lips. 
His lips moved with yours differently than Jimin’s had, but it still felt perfect to you. He was softer and gentler, but the desire, the want was still there. And when his tongue intertwined with yours you moaned softly. He tasted sweet, whereas Jimin tasted richer. He had you wanting more in just those few seconds, doing everything you could just to bring him closer, to eliminate the distance between you even if there wasn’t any left. If it wasn’t for Taemin’s hands holding you firmly in place on his lap, you would have gotten what you wanted. 
The kiss was soon broken by the need for air. You stared at Taemin with a hooded gaze. Both of your eyes blown wide with lust. You would have gone back in for another kiss if it wasn’t for the feeling of hands wandering on your form.
Jimin’s hands that were on your waist a moment ago had drifted up under your shirt. His warm hands feeling up your sides lifting your shirt in the process. The touches from both men seeming so simple but doing amazing things to you at the same time. 
As soon he couldn’t push your shirt up anymore with his wandering hands, Jimin grasped your shirt tugging it up. You leaned forward slightly allowing him to pull it up over your head leaving your upper body bare except for your simple looking bra. Jimin quickly tossed away your shirt before returning his attention to you.
Your head tilted to the side slightly as you felt Taemin’s lips on your neck. Him kissing and sucking marks into your skin, soft moans falling from your mouth at his actions. 
The other idol was quick to pull down your bra, letting your boobs fall out of it. Your nipples hardening from being exposed to the colder air in the room. One of Jimin’s hands grasping and kneading one of your breasts, while his mouth attached to the other. He kissed and nipped little marks starting from the top before he reached the perked nipple. A single kitten lick touched it, causing you to arch your chest forward seeking the attention that was teased. 
Jimin didn’t waste any time in giving you what you wanted, his mouth nipping at your breast before latching on and sucking on your nipple. A needy whine escaping your mouth as you relished in both men’s actions. 
One of Taemin’s hands slipped slowly from the outside of your thigh to the inside. His warm hand gently rubbing into the softness of your thigh as he moved closer and closer to your core, but not quite getting there. 
You wanted to be touched there, you needed to be touched there, and you didn’t mind begging to get it. You needed some relief and fast. 
You wiggled slightly, causing his other hand to tighten on your hip not only to hold you still, but as a silent warning to be patient. His warning only caused you to whine needily. 
“Taemin please…” Your voice was soft and airy, but there was a high pitch to it. All because of their attention on you. It didn’t take much from these two to get you worked up.
At the sound of his name there was a small growl that rumbed from his chest. He gave another quick nip to your neck before pulling away. “What is it baby girl?” He asked, his tone deeper than what you were used to hearing, causing another wave of arousal to flow through you. 
“I need..” Your words were interrupted as you gasped out, a moan falling out of your mouth shortly after as Jimin switched which breast he was focused on with his mouth. The one that hadn’t had his mouth yet being sensitive to his licks. 
“What do you need baby girl?” Taemin asked, his tone soft and patient. His question getting your thoughts back on track and away from how good Jimin was making you feel. 
“Please.. Please please please touch me.” You begged not caring how whiney you sounded. 
He let out a small chuckle at your words. “Touch you where? I am touching you, baby girl. You need to be more specific.”
If it wasn’t for your arousal filled state you would have shied away from having to say anything like you were about to. In your current state, you didn’t care. You needed his touch on you, in you, and you were willing to do what you could to get it. 
You whined again not so much for having to be specific but for the fact that Jimin had now moved away from your breasts, and was slowly marking his way up your chest now moving towards a sensitive spot on your neck. 
You enjoyed the sensation for a moment, thankful that Taemin was being patient with you. “I..” You started trying to find the right way to say this, but the impatience in you beat out you trying not to embarrass yourself.
“I want you to touch my clit! I want you to put your fingers in me!” You whined out loudly. “Please!” You added quickly causing Taemin to chuckle.
It was then Jimin sat up, his lips shining a tad from the things he was doing to you with his mouth earlier. “So polite.” He said with a slight rumble in his voice, the tone alone making you feel weaker. If this kept going, you were going to be a puddle on the floor by the end of it. 
“I like that you asked so nicely. Just sit back, baby. Jimin and I will take care of you.” Taemin’s voice sounded so sultry. You could listen to them both talk like this and you would be content for the rest of your life. 
You felt Taemin’s thumb touch the button on your jeans. He fiddled with the button for a moment just to tease you further, chuckling at the way you wiggled in his lap trying to get him to do something seeing how you already asked nicely. Finally he undid the button, slowly pulling down the zipper. This man and his slow teasing was going to be the death of you. 
Jimin seemed just as impatient as you were. Once your pants were undone he gripped the bottom part of your pants starting to pull them off of you. You quickly lifted yourself trying to shimmy the fabric off before they finally came free. 
You didn’t care if you were the only one in underwear at this point. You needed their attention. You craved it. 
You felt the slender fingers on you before you really had time to settle back down. Taemin’s fingers pressed into your clit gently through the fabric of your underwear. The pressure sure to show off just how wet you were. Jimin’s moan showing that he could see the wet spot, and Taemin’s groan telling you he could feel it. 
“So wet..” Jimin muttered out, his dark eyes settled on the spot between your legs watching Taemin tease you and work you up even more. Jimin’s own hand palming himself through the fabric of his pants. Normally you would have shied away from the attention but at this current moment you didn’t care. You loved having their attention on you. Jimin’s intense gaze and Taemin’s attention making you feel wanted and beautiful. 
Taemin had his fingers slowly traced to the outside edge of your underwear. His fingers pulling them aside so his finger could push into your opening just slightly, teasingly. Just enough to get your juices on his finger. Your eyes followed his finger as he lifted his hand away from you and brought his index finger to his mouth. You watched with a lust filled gaze as his finger disappeared into his mouth, sucking the wetness clean off of it. A sultry moan escaping the male you were sitting on. You never thought you would find something like that so hot…
A whine pulled your attention away back to Jimin. “I want a taste too.” He said with a pout on  his face. Taemin’s finger went back down to your core, his finger dipping inside once again before he held it out for Jimin. 
“Here. Have a taste.” Taemin said his low and sexy tone sending a shiver down your spine. 
 You watched with lust filled eyes, as once again, his finger disappeared into a mouth. Your wetness earning a sweet moan from the other man in the room. One thing was for sure, seeing Jimin suck on Taemin’s finger was even hotter. How did you get so lucky to be in this situation?
“You taste so good Princess. I can’t wait to have a proper taste of you.” You felt your heart jump at the thought. Jimin eating you out? Oh that would feel so good… He would look so good between your legs.. You wanted it. You hadn’t even realized that you let out a soft groan at the thought. 
You could feel the deep chuckle coming from Taemin, his chest pressed firmly into your back. “I think she likes that idea a lot, Jimin.”
A sultry grin was on Jimin’s face in no time at all. Your eyes followed his tongue as it came out to lick his soft lips. A soft needy whimper escaping you as you craved feeling one of them touch you. They were such teases.
You slightly wiggled from your impatientance. “Please just do something already, touch me, taste me I don’t care.” You whined out. You were so needy, you couldn’t take it much longer. You needed something. 
Jimin’s eyes dropped to your underwear again. His hands reaching forward, grasping the sides of the fabric. “I’m gonna take these off now, is that okay?” He asked despite how much had already happened. He still wanted to give you a chance to back out, and this was your chance to say no to this whole thing. 
“God please, yes!” Your voice was a loud whine. You had already stated that you wanted them to do something but you had assumed that they needed to hear you say it specifically so they could cross that line fully. 
As soon as the yes escaped your mouth the younger’s grip tightened on your panties pulling them slowly down your legs. Both of their eyes set on your pussy that was just barely exposed to them. 
As soon as the last piece of clothing on your body was gone, Jimin’s hands pulled your thighs apart. Exposing you to the cold air of the room, a small gasp escaping you at the feeling. 
Jimin didn’t waste any time. His face settled between your thighs, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. He only took a small moment to suck a mark into your skin before turning to his real goal. He was too impatient for all the teasing that Taemin seemed alright with. 
As much as you wanted to watch, as so as you felt Jimin’s tongue liking a long stripe from your hole to your clit, your head fell back against Taemin’s shoulder. A moan escaping you at the same time. Finally you were getting the attention you needed. Another lick followed the other before he drew your clit into his mouth sucking softly. Your mouth fell open in a silent gasp.
Taemin was content watching your expressions, he loved seeing your face twist in pleasure as Jimin was basically making you melt from his actions on your core. The whimpers and whines that were leaving you were music to his ears. Oh how much he wanted to be inside you, but he was content with waiting his turn. 
One of his hands moved away from the lower half of your body, coming up to cup your breast softly. His thumb tweaking over a hardened nipple, feeling your body shudder from the action. A small smirk formed on his face as he adjusted his grip pinching the nub between his soft fingers. 
Your body jumped slightly at the pleasurable pain, a long moan being drawn from you as Jimin sucked harshly on your clit at the same time. He released it with a small pop. You looked down at the dark haired man between your legs, silently wondering why he stopped when you felt his finger push into your entrance. 
Another small moan escaped you, as he slowly pushed his finger all the way in. After a moment, another finger was added causing you to whine again. Oh it felt so good but it was lacking too. Even as his mouth reattached to your clit, it still didn’t feel like it was enough. You wanted more, you wanted both of them inside you. 
You opened your mouth to voice your desire but as soon as you felt Taemin sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin on your neck drawing another needy noise from you. The bite was followed by a soothing lick before he sucked a dark mark just above the other. These two were going to be the death of you. 
Another mark was added to your neck before Taemin pulled away. He could feel the change in your body, how your noises were starting to pick up. He spoke, breaking the stream of constant wet noises and moans that came from their work. 
“That’s it… Cum for us baby girl..” His voice was like heaven to your ears, being said in just the right way that cause the familiar tightness in your stomach to grow more.  His other hand moved away from your hip, settling on your other breast. The soft kneading and pinching on the sensitive skin only adding to the pleasure you were feeling. 
“I…I…” You whined out feeling Jimin’s tongue dip slightly into your core along with his fingers, before moving back to your clit. “Its… It feels so good.” You panted out. You felt Jimin’s fingers crook inside of you hitting that spot that had pleasure spreading through you. It only took a couple more brushes against that spot before your vision went white. Your walls clenching around Jimin’s fingers as you finally went over the edge. 
Your mouth open in a silent scream as you worked through your orgasm, Jimin’s fingers working your core slowly to help work you through it. 
Eventually you had settled down. Your body glistening from the effort and pleasure, your chest heaving from the exertion as well, but you never felt better. In fact you still wanted more. You still wanted them both. A small whine escaped you as Jimin pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you feeling empty. 
Jimin finally sat up from his position between your legs, his mouth shining from your juices. His eyes locking with the other idol. “She is very addicting. One of the best I have ever tasted.
You could feel Taemin’s hum of approval more than you could hear it. Your face flushing from what they thought of you, of what they had just done, but the urge was still in you. 
You wiggled slightly from your own need, freezing at the groan that Taemin released, forgetting that you were sitting on him for a moment. Then being the brat you were grinded down on him this time earning you another groan. Oh what a beautiful sound. 
His hands went to your waist and gripped tightly, halting your movements against him. “I have to be inside you right now baby girl..” He growled out lowly. 
You could feel him shifting so he could free himself from his pants but your eyes widened. You didn’t want just him! 
“Wait!” You said suddenly causing both of the idols to freeze. Wide eyes on you, thinking they did something wrong. 
“I..” You wanted it but your shyness was stopping you. 
Jimin tilted your head to look at him. “What is it Princess?” Concern was clear on his face. 
“I want you both inside of me.. At the same time..” You haven’t done anything like that before but it only felt right, considering it was your first time with both of them. You watched them with fear in your chest. You hoped that was okay to ask. You watched Jimin’s eyes flick over behind you before back to your face. 
“Are you sure?” You heard Taemin speak up from behind you. 
You nodded, your face turning red from how this was normally something you never really considered before. 
Taemin turned his attention away from you to Jimin. “Are you okay with that?” The older man asked knowing what the position would entail. 
Jimin nodded. “I’m fine with it, I think it would feel amazing, and it would only be fair for both of us.”
You were pleased to say the least, to hear that they were okay with your idea. It had you basically clenching around nothing to think about having both of them. 
Taemin pushed you out of his lap, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. “Okay Jimin you will be on the floor then.”
The younger nodded quickly understanding that the tone Taemin used meant there was no room for debate. 
You sat back watching as the two started to strip their clothes. Taemin delivering a wink your way as he pulled off his shirt. His chest and muscles underneath was something you had seen occasionally because of the stuff he liked to wear for performances, but to have this just for you? Oh it was so much better, so much more mouth watering. 
Your eyes turned to Jimin seeing him already fiddling with the waistband of his pants.  He didn’t really waste any time? His body was a rare site to see, but once again having it just for you? Oh man, it was wonderful. The way his muscles looked, his abs that only glimpses of were ever seen. 
You licked your lips as you watched the two men undress. Their bodies’ so perfect in their own way. You wanted to run your hands over every part of their bodies, every little dip, every little bulge. They were so beautiful, handsome, enchanting.. There were too many words to describe how good they looked. 
Your eyes looked lower when they were finally bare, a little worry eating at you. They were both bigger than what you have had before, it was going to be a bit of an issue taking both of them but you so badly wanted to. Your eyes followed their hands as they both rubbed themselves somewhat, making sure they were ready for you. 
Jimin walked over to you pulling you to straddle him as he settled back onto the floor. His dark hair splayed out behind him, his dark eyes focused on you, full of lust. 
You could feel his length at your entrance. Your need for both of them causing you to shift slightly, grinding on his length for any amount of friction. A soft moan escaping both of you from the movements. 
Another pair of hands on you halted your movements. “Look at you, so impatient. Just relax and let us take care of you okay?” Taemin said softly into your ear causing you to shudder. You nodded unable to give a verbal reply. 
You turned your attention back to Jimin, eyes on him taking him in. Your hands splayed out on his chest feeling the hard muscle beneath your palms. 
“I don’t think I can take too much longer without being inside you Princess.” Jimin said, a slight whine in his voice. 
You flush slightly before nodding. You wanted him inside of you too. You lifted yourself allowing Jimin to line himself up with your entrance, before you sank down slowly on him. Your mouth open in a silent whine, as a groan escaped the man below you. 
Taemin’s hand traced down your spine before pushing you forward, exposing where you and Jimin were connected. 
“I have to make sure you are ready for me too, so this might hurt a bit. I will take it slow.” He said to you, trying to reassure you even if it was your idea. 
You could feel his fingers poking at your hole. You were already filled so much from Jimin, but you had more room. You hoped you would be able to take Taemin as well. Slowly but surely he pushed a finger into you, a hiss escaping you from the stretch. It was painful but not enough to make you want to stop. You knew the pain would melt into pleasure soon enough. Jimin let out a groan, his hips moving slowly inside you adding to the stretch. A soft moan escaped you after a moment of the two moving somewhat together. Taking your noises as a cue Taemin added another finger.
“Wait..” You hissed out slightly, causing both of them to still. It was uncomfortable. The stretch becoming almost too much so you needed a moment to adjust to the bother of them. As soon as the feeling melted away you nodded, shifting your hips to get them to move again. 
Shortly after they were moving in a slow sync again getting you to whimper and whine and moan from the feeling of being so full, of feeling so pleasured. 
Taemin withdrew his fingers causing you to whine at the loss of feeling so full. Jimin kept moving inside of you. It felt so good but you knew you needed Taemin inside of you too. 
“It’s okay Baby girl, I will be inside you soon enough..” He placed a kiss on your neck before turning his attention to Jimin for a moment. “Jimin.” The other’s name left the man in a growl causing the younger to halt in his movements. 
“S-sorry… She just feels so good.” Jimin stuttered out. “You will feel it soon Hyung.”
“Alright I need you to relax for me Baby girl.” Taemin said. The head of his cock poking at your already filled entrance. Slowly his pushed inside causing both of you and Jimin to moan together. 
A hiss escaped Taemin. “I need you to relax baby girl, you are too tight..”
You nodded doing your best to relax. You felt so full, and you felt so good. You felt Taemin push further into you the familiar feeling of being stretched returned to you. It was uncomfortable but the good feelings were overriding the bad.  They were both so big, and you felt stuffed. Together they were reaching and hitting every spot in you that felt so good. 
Once he was all the way in the three of you all released noises of pleasure. You stuttered out a quiet okay for them to move. 
As soon as they got the cue to move the two started to move, taking a moment to find a good rhythm until finally they were in sync in a manner that had your head spinning. Wet noises from the three of you filled the otherwise empty room. The grunts and moans of the two men joined your whines, whimpers, and moans. Everything felt so perfect, they felt so perfect. Something you never thought you would experience let alone kiss either one of them. 
Jimin soon claimed your lips, pulling you into a heated kiss. It was messy and needy. His tongue dancing with yours, swallowing all of the noises you were making from the movements of the two dancers. 
It didn’t take long for the two to pick up the pace, causing you to pull away from Jimin’s lips, to cry out as they seemed to find the sensitive spot inside of you. “Oohh..” You drawled out. “Right there… please.. Feels so good..” You said between the noises that you made. 
Taemin let out a breathy chuckle. “So polite still even when you are getting pounded.” A smirk was on his face, you could just tell. “We will give you what you want baby girl.” He pressed a searing kiss into your neck that was bound to leave a mark. A moment later you felt his teeth digging in gently to the same spot, making you whimper. 
“Oh? Is this baby girl into biting?” He whispered right into your ear causing you to shudder once again, as they moved in and out of you. You nodded quickly wanting his teeth back on your skin. You soon got your wish as you followed up your nod with a simple “please.” Jimin muttering a low comment about you being so polite. 
Taemin’s mouth was back on the tender skin of your neck in a short amount of time. His kisses and small bites working to find that perfect spot on you that would have you crying out, even if he was distracted with thrusting inside of you along with the other male under you. In a short amount of time he found the spot when you whine from one of his kisses. His teeth following shortly after, digging in your skin enough to cause that wonderful wave of pleasure to go through your body. His tongue worked over the spot to sooth it somewhat after he bit down. 
Jimin let out a grunt below you. “I’m not going to last much longer Princess..” 
You cried out as Taemin bite down on your sensitive skin as they thrusted up into you hitting that perfect spot once again. “I… I’m gonna come..” You whined out to both of them. 
A long drawn out groan came out from Jimin at your words, and the pleasure he was feeling as well. He always imagined hearing you say those words but never thought he would be able to hear them like this. “Come for us Princess..”
Taemin stopped his actions on your neck. His hand snaking around your side to reach between you and Jimin to rub your clit for you. “Come on our cocks Baby girl…” He whispered seductively to you. His thrusts were faster but still not as out of rhythm as Jimin’s. His hand working small circles into your sensitive nub, causing the tight feeling in your stomach to grow. The noises you were once making becoming silent as it was all becoming too much. 
Finally the pleasure came crashing in all at once as you were pushed over the edge. Your head falling back and mouth open in a silent cry. Jimin groaned out your name as he came inside of you. The younger falling back onto the floor fully trying to catch his breath. 
Taemin pulled you back, adjusting so you were on his lap, pulling Jimin out of you at the same time. The different position had him hitting parts in you that you never thought anyone could reach. You cried and whined at the over simulation, but you didn’t want him to stop even as he fingered your over sensitive clit. 
He pressed a chaste kiss into your neck once again. His chest heaving, his thrusts up into you faltering and becoming rushed as he chased his high. “Come for me again baby girl. I know you can do it.” Even as you shook your head mumbling out how good it felt but it was too much. “Give me one more, that is all I need.” 
He thrusted up harshly into you, a moan escaping him. You could tell he wasn’t going to last much longer, and with how sensitive you were, you could feel another climax building quickly. His fingers continued to rub into you timing with his sloppy thrusts. His voice gently calling a command to you. “Come for me.”
Everything went blank for a moment as you fell back against your crush. Mouth open as you came once again at his command. He grunted thrusting a few more times before he spilled inside of you, filling you along with Jimin’s come. 
The three of you together was a sweaty panting mess. Taemin and you slumped against each other breathing heavily, while Jimin was still resting on the practice room floor. The three of you were sitting in relative silence. 
As your mind cleared from your lust, confusion began to settle over you. What was going to happen now? Was this only a one time thing? Or was there something more between the three of you? You were afraid to find out the truth. 
Taemin was the first to move after he had recovered, wrapping his strong arms securely around you, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Your mind relishing in the affection he was giving you but you couldn’t help the confusion and concern building inside of you. But you couldn’t go without knowing.. You had to know.
Finally you broke the silence. “Does…” You found it hard to speak the words. Jimin sitting up from his spot on the floor to look at you, Taemin raising his head as well. 
“Does.. Does this mean something? Or… Was this just.. A one-time thing?” You were afraid of their answer. Your gaze turning to look at the ground but making no effort to move from Taemin’s embrace. 
Taemin was the first to answer. “Oh you are ours now baby.”
“That is if you want us right?” Jimin asked afterward to clear up that you still had a choice in this whole mess.
You looked up from the ground at their response, your eyes meeting Jimin’s that were shining with hope and fear at what your response might be even if the three of you just shared a wonderful moment together. 
It only took a small moment before you finally answered, trying to process what they were saying even if it was something so simple, it still felt like a dream to you. 
“Of course I want you, both of you..” You said a blush finding a way to your face as you admitted it out loud. “I have liked both of you for a while now..” Your eyes had wondered to the floor once again. “I had a crush on Jimin for the longest time, and then Taemin came into the picture and everything got worse.. I just.. I never wanted to say anything because I didn’t want to mess up the friendship I had with you guys seeing how you are idols and all, and well… I’m just me..” You stated. You weren’t anything special in your mind, not like they were. 
Hands were on your face in a second, tilting your head up to look directly at Jimin. “You are special to us Princess. You always have been but neither of us wanted to go after you until you did something.”  He pressed a quick kiss to your lips as a sign of affection before pulling away. 
You didn’t blame either of them for not making a move.. While you had confided in Jimin about your crush on Taemin, you would always say it would pass, never yourself taking any action even with the crush. 
“I didn’t think it would be fair to Jimin seeing how he liked you if I made a move on you first so I just waited to see what you would do, and it turns out that I saw you eyeing both of us in practice yesterday. Jimin didn’t notice until I mentioned something, and then we both clearly saw it today.” Taemin clarified for you. “We took that as a sign of wanting us both.”
Your eyes wandered over your bare forms in the mirror for a moment taking in the information. You were theirs, and they were yours. A smile slowly made its way on your face before realizing how naked you all were in a somewhat public place. 
“We should get dressed.” You stated quickly, before moving to get up, only being able to push yourself so far before falling back into Taemin’s lap from how weak your legs were. 
The two men chuckled at your state before Jimin stood up, pulling you up into his arms. “We will help you princess.” 
“Only so we can go back to my place and have round two.” Taemin quickly added after as he started to gather your clothes. His words causing you to flush once again, wondering on all that would happen later. 
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psalloacappella · 4 years
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Sirens - CH 5
Title: Sirens Pairing: SasuSaku Chapter: Ao3 | FF Rating:  M
Additional Notes:  new cast alert, enter Ino!; spicy; sad; Sasuke kind of a SIMP; make some noise; some parts nsfw .
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And so again, he finds himself on some surreal plane of existence where there’s another unfamiliar pretty girl in his kitchen, hailing from fuck knows where, tossed onto earth in a momentary absurdity — arriving on a magic carpet or hot air balloon. Often a silent observer to conversations weighty with importance, he has the talent of existing in a room and giving the impression he’s somehow hearing everything and nothing in the same moment.
Introductions dispensed. Coffee and food, he’s learned, always serve as a sufficient social lubricant and functions as the perfect excuse to give them time together to untangle a conversation that sounds like an argument they’ve been having for several years of their lives, the type of historical artifacts that define the best relationships; they’re familiar echoes of the bond of a brother long broken and a best friend that he’s sure has extended much more grace than he’s deserved.
Fingers linger on the handles of mugs, grasp them and set them down, pantomiming and gesturing and weaving stories about people he doesn’t know and passing tokens of lives lived in a separate dimension than his. It’s odd, how the histories of others intertwine and as people share pieces of themselves they fill in the empty questions to create bonds anew, the pasts and presents overlapping, echoing and transforming in layers and rings as carbon dating. The details that follow in the tracks of family lines and secrets.
If he listens, he’ll be able to glean the things this girl has such a difficult time telling him.
“You know it’s hard for your friends when you do this,” Ino chides, reaching forward to flick a lock of her pink hair. A cherished gesture, the type only people so close will tolerate. “Disappear and resurface hundreds of miles away, always moving, never checking in.”
“You should be used to it by now.” Sakura takes a sip of coffee to hide the slight waver in her voice. It gives Sasuke pause and he glances at her over his shoulder from his sentinel role at the stove.
The tint of her drink reminds him of a specific shade of paint, a desultory memory of his home — Saint Martin Sand.
“And every time we come together again, I tell you, stop punishing yourself for no reason. At least this time you’ve made some friends. Cute ones.” Ino watches him watch Sakura and their eyes meet — he breaks it with the slightest blush.
The glitter in her eyes is so knowing, so like Naruto’s, he wonders if he should have taken a long walk instead.
“So let’s just lay this on the table,” Ino continues, setting down her mug with a sharp sound. “You two are a thing, and judging by that ridiculous soap opera outside, you’ve been staying here with him?”
“We’re not together— ”
“Yes, yes, you don’t date, I know.” Ino waves a hand, sweeping away her fruitless protestations. Lifting her chin, she says to Sasuke, “I didn’t mean to join in, it’s just, I finally find her and she’s getting chased by some guy, you can see how I could’ve had the wrong idea.”
“I understand,” Sasuke responds, not turning around. “You two are very close.”
“A man of many words.” Ino refocuses on Sakura, who’s running her fingernail on the lip of the mug, staring into coffee the shade of tropical sand. “As long as he’s kind to you, I suppose I can’t show up and start analyzing it.”
“But you will,” Sakura says, grinning.
“Of course I have a million questions; you’re terrible at keeping in touch. For starters, why is your ankle busted?”
With a bleak groan, Sakura lets her face fall into her hands, fingers sinking into her hair. Ino laughs in a weary way, the love of years so lush and apparent throughout, and their feet tap one another under the table. Both pass the heel of a hand underneath their eyes, a quick swipe, gestures in a mirror.
“Are you going to come sit with us or what?” Ino snarks, fearless in her insistence. A similar frankness that Sakura has in her best moments which take peeled layers to surface. Sasuke wonders just where and when their paths forked, and how those laden with cracks in the soul are lucky enough to find supports like these. Adjusting breakfast to a simmer, he brings his own coffee to take up a seat on an adjacent table side, between them.
“So — how did you two meet?” she asks, tapping the table with each word. Eyes hungry for details, she sways left and right, waiting for one of them to indulge her.
“Ah—”
“Well—”
“He’s a fan of my radio show,” Sakura finally articulates. “He and Naruto — his friend, own a bar and they called in, and honestly I was so curious so I ended up coming in a few days later. And the rest is history.”
Ino smiles. “So how long is that history, two, three weeks?”
Sasuke busies himself with copious coffee drinking, aware he’ll run out before being able to leave the table.
“That’s so cute, it’s nauseating,” Ino adds, grinning at Sasuke. Amused by his embarrassment and baffled that a guy so handsome is sitting here being twisted into knots by a little gossip and interest. She must drive him crazy.
As she watches both of them glance away, askance, eyes on anything but one another, knowing Sakura as well as she does means this dynamic and situation for her is a new foray, an unusual wrinkle and snag in her usual routine of cut and run.
She likes him too. And this, out of all of it, is the most unusual development for her friend that routinely rips up her roots or rarely stays long enough to grow them; the girl that’s been afraid to breathe the same air for one too many heartbeats in fear of making mistakes, taking what she deserves.
And the longer Ino sees Sasuke’s handsome face up close — messy dark hair, charcoal, sharp eyes, the patrician slope of his nose — there’s thoughts sifting in that slippery layer of the unconscious, shifting as sand in soft winds. A sense she’s missing a crucial detail in a larger game.
“You definitely had a good first night with this one. I know, I can tell.” Refusing pretense, Ino drops this on the table and sips with a satisfied smile.
“Pig, please!” Sakura sounds annoyed, but it still marries a soft, scolding tone to what must be a childhood, agreed-upon name.
Scrunching up her face, Ino taps her forehead twice. Children making faces on glass windows or at one another on a playground, a reference to simpler times. They grew up together bonded by dirty knees and whispered secrets. Not unlike the way Sasuke and his brother were so long ago, before they were groomed, primed for their inescapable roles: A reprieve from destiny is not the pardon.
All three startle at the sound of jangling keys; Sasuke, with his back to the door, turns in his seat and throws a careless arm over the back of the chair. Glancing back to Sakura, they exchange a small ghost of a smile, a hidden and intimate reference to experiences only privy to them.
“‘Kay, Sasuke, I know you told me not to just walk into your apartment, ‘specially now that you’ve had this super cute girl around, but this is definitely, totally—”
When he sees Ino at the end of the table, Sasuke gracing him with the woebegone, tired expression that he always receives when intruding, and Sakura smiling at his arrival, he stops in his tracks over the threshold.
Naruto’s mouth falls open with impunity. Sakura waves at him.
“ — important,” Naruto finishes, closing the door with his foot behind him. Shoulders sagging, he tosses his keys on the counter and whines. “Unreal, man. You found another one. An impossibly attractive girl and now they’re both in your damn kitchen!”
Ino points at him, palm facing up, in a lazy gesture. “Who’s this dork?”
“That’s his best friend,” Sakura says, nodding at Sasuke.
“Seriously? This guy?”
“Naruto,” Sasuke begins, running a hand through his messy hair, “the fuck did I tell you about walking in like this? Just knock. Or as you remind me, we have phones.”
“Well maybe you should start putting up a sign or something, or a sock on the door or some shit, because I can’t keep up with your life.” Without invitation, Naruto helps himself to coffee and continues rambling while lifting the lid to inspect the simmering food. “Or better yet you could let me know when you’re just befriending beautiful women and where exactly you find them, because you have zero interest in the ones at the bar.”
“Listen, uh, what’s your name? Naruto, you said? Sasuke and I haven’t had the pleasure of—” Ino breaks off, hissing ow! under her breath from a well-placed kick. “It’s not like that. I’m Sakura’s friend — I’m like the you to him,” she says, pointing to each of them respectively to illustrate her point. “So relax, because I’m assuming you’re joining us.”
Sakura starts laughing while Naruto drops the lid back onto the pan and stares, mouth in a perfect, round “O.”
Smiling wide, Ino preens in the manner of an exotic species so very cognizant of its worth.
“So, go back to the part where I’m impossibly attractive.”
.
.
.
Sasuke’s second breakfast consisting of people other than Naruto and himself sails by in the way time well-spent feels warm and sublime. The buoyancy of laughter and a tentative kindling, the way it proceeds through a fated narrative as each piece settles into its destined groove. Naruto, unstoppable from the glow of caffeine, breakfast he didn’t make, and an attractive blonde, narrates the dramatic and fated meeting of his best friend and this radio girl of the night in sordid detail, to Ino’s delight. Sakura interjects to correct notions along the way, and Sasuke abandons fantasies of pitching him off the balcony or dropping him down the fire escape, instead settling for heavy sighs and staring at her while she speaks, as she augments the conversation with slender hands and pointed fingers.
“So then last night he rushed off to save her from the police station. I mean, I was worried too obviously. And . . . I don’t know what all happened after that. You never called.”
Both of them with widened eyes, a clear giveaway as any of all the details that sound ludicrous in the light of day. This time, it’s Sasuke who speaks.
“All I did was pick her up. She was helping someone out and the police needed to speak with her to confirm things.” Taking a quiet sip of coffee, he adds, “She didn’t need saving.”
Sakura’s eyes soften, and she drops her eyes to the remnants of her breakfast.
Ino sighs, setting her fork on her empty plate with a clink. “Knowing her, she beat ‘em up herself.”
“Come on, Ino, why don’t you just tell him all of my embarrassing stories?” Sakura pouts, a joke laced with the tiniest warning, a rough string tightening. “More importantly, I need your help with something.”
“Name it,” Ino says. “I have all the time in the world! I’m staying at a hotel, trying to get a real feel for the city. Never been here, you know, and I’d like to stay a while before—” She breaks off, glancing at Sasuke, and changes tack. “I haven’t seen you in a long time, that’s all.”
“Work is having an event, and I think it’s fancy, very high-class, you know. Those things make me so uncomfortable.”
“I always tell you, everyone’s faking it at those events. You’re sweet enough to muddle your way through one night.” Ino looks Sasuke directly in the eyes; he has the distinct feeling she’s untangling him, and this, and that she has the tenacity to see it through.
“These are rich people, Ino. I’m a girl from the wrong side of the tracks, and I don’t belong there.”
The comment piques Naruto’s interest momentarily and he tilts his head; Sasuke watches her closely.
“Don’t start that,” Ino warns, again waving away her concerns easily.
“Apparently it’s not the radio subsidiary itself, but the parent company. The night I was working I think the man I spoke with was the owner, the CEO."
Eyes alight, Ino reaches for her bag slung over the back of the chair and pulls out a thin, light laptop. Pushing aside her empty dishes, she boots it up in half a second and waits for details, eager fingers poised over the keys. “Tell me details.”
“Tall, pale eyes. A stoic sort of guy. Brunette, very long hair. Like yours,” Sakura says to her, “and just as cared for.”
“So very pretty, your usual type, heh,” Ino teases. Her fingers fly over the keys. “I might have an idea . . .”
“Ino has a well-known family,” Sakura explains to Sasuke. Touches his arm in a soft gesture to hold his attention, not that he’s ever able to be distracted away from her. “The Yamanakas?”
Waving blithely, Ino rejects the notion. “We aren’t that regal, please. We’re in a totally different universe than, say, the Uzumaki’s.”
A full ten seconds passes before what she says registers on Naruto’s face. The typing continues at a lively pace. Sakura’s looking at him with a strange expression, an impassiveness that seems to be a projection, a mask, hiding twisting questions beneath. Naruto looks at Sasuke and opens his mouth —
— and all that comes is an ow! and tears forming at the corners of his eyes.
“Here we go,” Ino says, pulling back the attention of the group. Turning the laptop around for them to see, she points. “Neji Hyuuga, one of the youngest media moguls and owner of blah blah enterprises, took over when his dad passed away, the usual way it goes in families like these.”
The pale eyes remind her of the girl from the police station, and she looks to Sasuke as if for confirmation. Confirms it to her with an imperceptible nod.
“I assume there’s a press release,” Sakura says, intrigued.
“Of course. They probably control whoever writes about them anyway. Talk about a conflict of interest.” A relentless cadence of tapping keys, and her ocean eyes are just visible over the lid of the laptop. “‘Annual event, mighty and generous’, blah blah, ‘held at the historic but well-loved — wow, look at this place. It’s beautiful in that old money sort of way.
Chair legs scrape against the floor as they gather in a semicircle to read along, emitting whistles and comments here and there as they take in the grandiose venue and the Hyuuga family’s credentials. Sasuke, though, is quiet. Sakura’s eyes are wide, dazzled and intimidated by the prospect of all of it.
“Oh god, I can’t go to something like this,” she groans. “I’m going to look so stupid and out of place.”
“Sakura!” Ino pushes her chair back, startling the other two as they back out of her way. Taking her shoulders, she shakes her a little. “You have to go to an event like this. People bend over backwards maintaining relationships with this family and donate money just to potentially go to this! I know why you need me — to dress you, of course! This is supposed to happen; I know it.”
Sasuke takes Ino’s empty seat, eyes darting over the screen.
“Ino, you’re such a romantic. What am I even going to talk about with these people?”
“It doesn’t matter. These are basically playgrounds for the rich and famous. If you want to give your career a leg up, you have to do this.”
“My career?” Sakura snorts, shoulders sagging. Closing in on herself, an instinctual fear. “Ino, I failed out of pre-med and change leases as often as clothes. Now I do a radio show in the dead of night speaking with lonely people.”
“All the more reason to get out there and find people who can help you. Maybe it’s time to stop leaving with the wind and start trusting yourself. Besides,” she says, hands on her hips, daring her to disagree, “isn’t it time you let yourself have some fun?”
Sakura doesn’t answer, lips slightly parted and seeking a rebuke she doesn’t have. Whirling around, Ino demands of her new friends, “Back me up here!”
“Ah well, Sakura,” Naruto says, sheepish and red, “I’m with Ino, here on this one. And this is totally my own opinion because you’re really cool, and we’re friends now, I think. All these families know each other. It’s a ‘who’s who’ of important people in a lot of industries. And,” here he grins, eyes bright, “you can do and find whatever you want at an event like this.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sakura asks.
“It means,” Ino says, cutting across his response, “that you will not be taking a walk of shame in a princess dress on a dingy train or in the back of a cab. You can stay in my hotel room downtown — it’s not far from the venue. You will arrive and leave from this event in style. If you come home, of course.” She winks with gusto.
“I’m borrowing this,” Sasuke says abruptly, picking up the laptop and taking his phone out of his pocket with his other hand. Ino shrugs, go for it. Taking up a seat in his own living room, he connects with someone on the phone and speaks to them in a tone relatively terse, his rich voice commanding as opposed to conciliatory.
The sound of his voice tips a smile onto Sakura’s face. Ino glances between the two and the understanding is a jolt of electricity, a hundred tiny neurons firing to complete the picture in the spark of a moment.
“You asked him already.”
“I’ve vetted him,” Sakura teases, and now it’s impossible to hide. The way the thought of him snatches the air out of her throat, the heavy swallow to recoup; green eyes consuming and caught in a mimeo of the past and Ino knows that it’s not him who has her, but he who has stumbled and tripped into her orbit. And Ino’s only ever seen her look at one other man this way; the nascent and feverish meeting of chance, the genesis of an endless chain reaction, atoms in a runaway chemical tryst. Ino had been present for it but somehow failed to notice everything that was wrong. All of it colliding in this moment as she sees the shadow of its consequence in her gaze.
“Thank you,” Sasuke says. With the slightest incline of his head, he returns the closed laptop to Ino and pockets his phone. Unable to tear her gaze away now, Ino struggles to form words as his fingers take Sakura’s elbow and he murmurs to her in an undertone. A talent of omitting others from his space if he chooses, even as they scrabble on the outside, a manipulation, or closer to a bewitchment, of reality.
Sakura looks down at her wrapped ankle, giving it a flex and wiggle. Ino knows he’s already doomed by the damned, and all she can do is give her futile warning and watch it play. Sasuke speaks again, but the chaotic buzzing in her ears drowns it all out.
Sakura folds her arms, resolute. “That’s so expensive, Sasuke. I’ve . . . never been anywhere that nice.”
And he tucks pink strands behind her ear in the crackling and kindling of the atmosphere difficult to breathe in.
“And a suite? What could we possibly do with all that space?”
But there’s a smile seeping into the corner of her lips, and his suggestive silence leaves myriad answers.
“You have a balcony.” Ino raises her voice, pulling them back to reality. “Show me it?”
Sasuke shrugs in genuine indifference; Sakura narrows her eyes. “You just want to interrogate him. Please don’t scare him away — I’ll do it soon enough.”
Ino brushes past them and throws aside the sliding glass door, styled French, reflecting that this isn’t the type of man many likely manage to forcibly do much of anything. It may be curiosity or out of deference to the woman he’s entangled with, but he follows without complaint.
The door is barely closed before she bursts.
“Do you even know her, Sasuke?”
Furrows his eyebrows as if she’s a mildly interesting painting, but doesn’t respond to her immediately. Dark eyes glimmer with a suspicion that makes her shiver a little as they're turned on her, unflinching, a shadow in them she wasn’t expecting — likely the very thing that’s brought Sakura to it, a frenzied moth to light. Or perhaps it’s the other way around, the alluring visions in her eyes drowning him in an ocean similar to the stories, the schizophrenic and duplicitous nature of open family secrets.
“Do you even know who I am?”
“Please,” she snorts, surveying him. “Messy dark hair, that attitude of yours. Handsome nose. Those eyes.” At this, her gaze flits away to the horizon. “You’re an Uchiha.”
Though he doesn’t confirm, the way his gaze stays steady, level, and intense is enough.
“Granted,” she continues, “there are a lot of you, and you all have quite the strong genes, looking so much alike. You’re one of the most famous families in the country. And I think she has an idea, but it’s different when you don’t grow up hearing the stories; when you’re not in the same circles. She’s not like you.”
“If you have something to ask,” he says, “I’d rather we not dance around it.” The bite, the press of assertion.
Ino knows it’s everything Sakura has a taste for, a history of — a craving that’s always worth tearing apart at the tendons and roots.
“If I thought you’d be straightforward about it, I’d ask. I think you have no idea of the type of person you’re obsessed with.”
“I’m not—”
“Don’t bother with denying it. You think I haven’t seen this before? Look . . . we do this all the time, run in circles. After she left town, and her parents died, I tried to keep up with her. She’s my best friend. She’s not ever out to ruin anyone but that’s what she usually does. Guys, just, they get wrapped up in her and then when it’s too serious for her, she leaves. She thinks she’s hard to love, like she’s cursed or blessed or something that ends up more like a sickness than something functional.”
The accuracy and plain verity of her words feels like a sharp jab to the chest.
“And I don’t know much about you as a person, but I do know what I’ve read and what I’ve heard.”
“You’re right,” Sasuke says. “You don’t know anything about me. And I don’t give time to gossip and rumors.”
“You don’t get it. She didn’t even have my number in her new phone, and she never keeps any. You know why? She expects people in her life to disappear, so she just leaves them first.”
Sasuke remembers the call to the bar, the number that would have been fresh in her mind or the one on file with the city, as opposed to his personal phone.
“She can’t stay away from certain types of people. Certain men. Everyone has a weakness, right? And that’s hers. The more I’m talking to you, seeing you around each other, I have the feeling your problem is the same.”
He’s certainly not in the mood for another woman too sharp for her own good. Avoiding her assessment, he deflects. “How did you even find her, then?”
“Trade secrets,” she says in a sardonic tone. “My father’s a, what do you call it, ‘analyst’ for the government.” She adds air quotes to make her point clear. “Sure that’s what he does. I can tell by the types of friends we had, all families who understood the culture. You only have gatherings like we did when your family’s, A, in the government or B, organized crime.” Tilting her head, she smirks. “You’d know.”
“So, family resources?”
“But really,” she laughs, “I just used the internet. It’s not so hard to do if you know enough about someone. We are best friends, after all.”
Like Sakura, it can be difficult to tell how close she is to sarcasm. A similar brand of mordancy. He takes Ino at her word with a nod.
“She’s smart. She probably has an idea of who you might be, maybe she’s trying not to know. And she’s never been one for gossip or celebrity news — she reads a lot, but always nerdy subjects. Well, that’s why she was going to be a doctor, I suppose.”
A silence. When he deigns to speak, Ino isn’t able to hide her surprise.
“She’s told me a bit about herself, but not much. I don’t think her and I are people who open up easily.”
“She used to be different,” Ino says wistfully. “But there are things in this life that are difficult to shake off; they hurt you so deeply you don’t heal. Or at least, you don’t heal correctly.”
“I’m guessing you won’t tell me what those things were?”
When she raises her sapphire eyes to his, she’s torn between spilling it all and knowing that a betrayal so significant would ruin a relationship with the only person she can still trust. Still, she’s terrified thinking about the prospects of either outcome with this man, knowing that he is madly, stupidly in love with a harbinger of chaos, and most don’t make it out of that web in one piece. Perhaps no one does, with her.
“That’s not my place,” she finally says. “Go with her and have fun. You strike me as someone who could use some, too. But I mean this in the kindest possible way — one day she’ll run, and she will leave. She can’t help herself. She . . . can’t stay away from the mess.”
Sasuke continues watching her in mild amusement. His smirk causes a nervous flutter in her stomach; Ino puzzles over his underreaction to her words.
Opening the door and gesturing her back inside, signaling the end of their conversation, he simply says, “I know.”
They rejoin the other two:  Sakura with her ankle propped up on a cushion and Naruto next to her babbling about what sounds like his childhood, tales of adventures and boring classes in private institutions, uniforms and study prep and a flush of love for parents long gone. Sasuke suspects now that the place and life she comes from is a world he’s not familiar with; when she nods and makes careful comments here and there, trying to carefully step around the gaps in her knowledge, that emotion swells again. That urge to drape her in finery and act as the constant indulgence she can use over and over, to absolutely and unequivocally hand her the keys to a kingdom. A compulsion to fulfill a need unspoken.
“Hey you, Naruto.” His babbling screeches to a halt, and he automatically catches the phone Ino tosses to him with a smile. “Let me get your number.”
The way his expression flips in an instant, confusion to an incandescent brightness, causes another fluttering. “Sure!”
Ino exchanges with each of them, and she notices as she wanders around their contacts in her surreptitious way that neither of them have Sakura’s last name in their phone. Filing that detail away for herself, her thumb hovers over the screen as she finishes her entry in Naruto’s phone and returns it.
When she looks at his contact card and sees the name Uzumaki, she taps to edit and adds a sunshine, grinning.
“By the way, if you’re planning to stay for a long time and don’t want to be in a hotel for all of that, I mean, I live across the hall. Just saying. That way you’re close to Sakura and people you know in a new city!”
Hand on her hip, Ino tries to keep her ego tamped down, if even just a little. “You’re so transparent.”
Horrified, he holds up his hands with palms out, shaking his head. “No, no, I have a guest bedroom, no one stays in it, really. I’m not trying anything funny.” Indicating Sakura, he laughs. “She’s punched two people in a month, and I’m one of them. If you’re her friend, I know what I’m up against.”
.
.
.
Growing up Sasuke was in his fair share of fights and scraps on the playground, and then older, in bars and with drunk friends — after his mother dies he will participate in and be the progenitor of so many more. Her scolding reverberates in his ear about all the reasons he shouldn’t mar his handsome, regal face, and he hears his father in these same memories dismissing her concerns, sneering that it’s good he toughens up in any way he can.
If his mother was still alive she wouldn’t know what to say to this behavior, these mistakes he’s making: Writhing beneath the burning touch of a tiny nymph with pink hair, splayed beneath her as if blown apart and pinned up by the limbs, lepidoptera, as she straddles him in a hitched-up navy skirt with the heels of her sandals etching divots into his skin that will soften and fade to beautiful bruises.
Two fingers in his mouth and her other hand working in a heated, rhythmic pace on his cock, he’s sure there would be a distinct lack of approval of being roughhoused by this girl with no name who seems to have the desire to leave him a shaking, gasping excuse for his family name.
He’s sure he would agree to let her kill him if she wanted; there’s almost nothing at this point that’s beyond the realm of reasonable requests. Especially with her pinning him without mercy, soaked and dripping between her thighs, a red and mottled flush surfacing through the skin of her chest and collarbones as she presses him into small submissions, the ways that men with faces like his don’t often experience.
(Returning from shopping with a large bag swinging from her hand, eyes bright despite her little limp. Volunteering information before he’s even apt to ask:  She loves it, and no he can’t see it yet, and she has work in a while but not quite yet. Ino’s out exploring the city accompanied by Naruto.)
And it’s what she doesn’t say but he hears in her voice, in the come-hithers and low tones and the space between them always feeling like an ache, an endless expanse that yearns for nothing but to be restitched and torn over again in repetitious revolutions, the drowning and resuscitation an addiction in itself. Coming together to pull apart and wound with another million fibers each time in a dazed and deadly isochronism.
Small and light like feathers and lips like morphine:  With her legs around his hips and fingers in his dark hair yanking him to expose the apple of his neck, she hisses
I want to hear you
Down the hallway and he does as she bids, gritting his teeth while her lips tour his neck and linger in his ears
I want your noise
And he tries to take her with him but she places her fingers on his chest and bounces him into the soft bedspread, straddling him, clawing at his shirt and maneuvering it over his head to toss it aside. Bites her lip as she raises her chin to gaze down on him, jade eyes and parted lips and rolling her hips in an agonizing move that tears a moan from his throat —
Good boy she says, good boy
And when she says it his pulse beats in a stilted cadence and his hips press up against her, desperate, unable to touch enough of her like this and how did he fucking end up here, with her still clothed and him barely so while coaxing the full beautiful, colorful continuum of human sounds from his throat, sounds he’s stymied to know or possess and why when she calls him this his breath hitches, a choke, a reaction he’s unable to hide, not the least when her slim fingers reach for him, the scrape of her nails on his belt
Hips jerking and shuddering again as she takes him into her hand
It’s unfair how attractive you are, Sasuke
Like before he reaches for her, the calluses of his fingers dragging across her canvas of skin on fire and
she slaps them away, clicking her tongue in admonishment, he doesn’t learn
I meant what I said; that’s no way to get me to help you
Swallows down the pathetic word that sits as a lump in his throat, the one she’s aiming for and he doesn’t know how she knows it’s there but she’ll tear it from him no matter how many minutes a breakdown takes, and great fucking god he’s about to give it to her under duress of those soft silk fingers, the same ones that hold coffee mugs and command his attention and tell stories but now they feel like they’re where they belong, pumping him with the practiced and smooth movements of one who wields control so precise
Fuck, Sa-Sakura, fuck
Oh sweetheart, that’s not what quite I’m looking for
The first time a finger finds its way past his lips and into his mouth, open and panting and wanting already, the jolt and shudder and full roiling of his lean, fit body forces a breathy gasp from her own; the dangerous rock of her own hips she indulges in leaves her eyelashes fluttering shut in glimmering repose.
The tang, it bursts on his tongue
Unable to process the taste — salt, sweat, musk, the liminal zest between his and hers impossible to sift between
Then another long, slim finger in his mouth and here she persists again, ruthless and divine in and inhuman and the unceasing rhythm as she works him stays just a single syncopated note from release, as if she knows the precise rhythm and flow in which they could collide
Please
I want to hear you, Sasuke
Incoherent, torn him from him as skin from fruit, the feathering of plumage
Please — !
That laugh, spreading and coating as viscid honey, dense and lush and soaking him down
You’re so good, you know. I know men like you hate this
— the buckles of her heeled sandals patterning friction on the skin of thighs and the repetitive sticky scrapes of well-worn athletic tape as she holds him, cages him—
but you just look so good like this, I love you like this
So precious, she reflects for a moment, taking him in, wasted and dashed and black pupils blown as his eyes lose focus for a moment. Removes her fingers from his mouth with a wet hollowing sound that brings with it a guttural groan, throaty and incoherent
And the absolutely desperate pitch at the close
undoes her and she yanks him up by the hair, scrabbling at the bare skin of his shoulders with her fingernails and kisses him, when he lifts her so easily and they fumble with flimsy and frustrating fabrics until she settles on him again with a moan, filled to the brim and lost in brilliance
stuttering out his name in his ear in ways that make her forget she doesn’t plan for forevers.
.
.
.
“Dude.”
Naruto snaps his fingers in front of Sasuke’s twice, thrice. A flicker of recognition and reality surfaces and he blinks, swatting away his friend’s hand.
“Don’t.”
“Oh I’m sorry, you’ve just been spaced the fuck out for ten minutes.”
“I doubt that,” Sasuke says tartly, plucking a piece of paper from the office desk and pretending to consider it. Careful ignorance seems preferable to enduring the endless taunting and ribbing from Naruto, and lately that’s been nothing less than a guarantee.
“Okay, a minute or so, but you look blown out. Wasted. I can’t put my finger on it. Do you feel sick?”
“Shut up, will you? I’m—”
“Sad?”
“Working,” he finishes firmly.
“Nah, yer not.”
Naruto folds his arms and squints at Sasuke, then takes a meandering lap around the back office, hemming and hawing.
Though he’s not concentrating on any numbers in front of him, he loses focus again, flatlines, lost in a dream. Contented.
Naruto punches his fist into his hand opposite, shaking his head with a laugh. “I’m an idiot.”
“Now you’ve got it.”
“She laid you out, didn’t she? Sent you on a ride. What obscenely tight part of you did she get into?”
Sasuke leans back in the office chair, folding his arms. Avoiding his eyes and the flickering heat in his face that threatens to give him away, like he’s a little boy. “Fuck off.”
“I’m definitely going to ask her what she did to you. You’re like, bright. Glowing? I’ve heard that word. It’s coming off you in, like, waves.”
“If you ever say that word around me again,” Sasuke says, snatching up a stapler, “They won’t find your body.”
Raising it, Sasuke pretends to throw it — Naruto flinches. Relaxes.
Sasuke whips it at him anyway.
“Ow! Temper, tsk tsk,” Naruto teases, rubbing his arm where it hit.
Shikamaru strolls in with his hand in his pockets, sighing. “Ah, Sasuke, there’s someone asking about you at the bar. He’s been hanging around for a while and I don’t think he’s leaving. I figured if he knew you, he’d contact you directly, but—”
“Hey, hey Shikamaru,” Naruto interrupts. “Look at him. He’s too busy being lost in—”
“Who is he?” Sasuke asks. “What does he look like?”
“Eh, honestly, he looks a lot like you. Older, maybe? Same eyes, spiky hair.”
A lurching, a twisting in the gut. The expression on his face foreboding enough that both of them move swiftly out of his path as he heads for the front, adrenaline pouring into his limbs, readying for a brawl.
When he arrives, however, nothing’s left but the wrinkled napkin, weathered and worn from dallying fingers and the perspiring empty glass, drunk to its dregs.
For a moment Sasuke gazes across the bar — a slower night with lingering groups in booths and a few scattered and two-top tables. No one remains that looks like him, not even close.
After all, he can always feel them in a crowd. As if bonded by invisible strings, always forced into the productions and whims of the family, it being a force so much darker and greater than himself. The portraits in the old house halls with a multitude of photographs in varying time periods and shades, an illustration of consolidated privilege and sovereignty. Far from the old ways things used to be done but nevertheless woven into the fabric of societal institutions in a manner so deft and desecrating.
The things his brother had always hated, railing against it in quiet dissent.
And in the end he had made his point, violent and vehement in a final way.
It rises, a pain in his chest and an unbidden, murky memory of the way his father slammed his hands on the table, again and again in an unceasing rhythm and his finger so close to his brother’s face he was sure it wouldn’t make it through the argument. As the years aged them all, he had begun to reject the authoritarian notion and the name. Perhaps it had broken him more than Sasuke had been able to understand.
When he remembers it again and he’s unable to breathe, he hates how he grasps the counter and gropes for the nearest bottle, and he would lunge for paint thinner if it made it all stop — the echoes of potent rage rising to a crushing din
You don’t bring people like that around — !
Never again — !
You
don’t bring
her here — !
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dredreadsdrawing · 4 years
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2/28/2020 - 2/29/2020
Combined two days because I only wrote ideas the 28th, and sketched the new boi the 29th.
Ideas on Bart’s Friend, newly named Hosea!:
- He’s taller than Bart, but skinny like a pencil. He has big round glasses that make his eyes look bigger than they are. He has long, choppy hair he grew out and likes to take care of.
- ..... through drawing him, especially the last expression, i mentally give him a dorky deep voice that has a slight drawl. He talks slowly, and usually stumbles over his words, giving people the impression that he’s not as smart as he is. HE never raises his voice; it’s permanently stuck in a low, calm, and gentle tone. Imma try to find something close to this as an example, cries.
- i really like my boy, double cries.
- He moved with his mother and father into town after his father lost his job. At this time, Bart is 11, and so is the new kid.
- The town kids were curious about him at first, and crowded him to know more about the city. Quickly, though, his answers bored them, and his affinity for reading rather than playing turned them away from wanting to stick around, and he got lonely quick.
- He found Bart the first day of school, the only kid reading during every break, and he nervously got the guts to approach him. Bart was very cautious at first, suspicious. thinking that the town kids sent him for a prank, but Hosea was incredibly earnest in his interest, and got excited when Bart mentioned a series he liked. Needless to say, Bart was quickly won over.
- That day, they started their friendship by talking about the few non-horror books Bart had read. The next, Bart was ready to show him his whole collection, sure to impress him(!), when he noticed Hosea’s mom. And their prayer before school. And her insistence of him to be a good boy and to not let himself be corrupted by the other kids. Bart overheard all of this from a bush, and was struck, remembering the words of caution Minnie told him before. ‘Some people will run for fear of their religious rules. They don’t perceive their gods as merciful.’
- He didn’t want to lose his first friend. He hid his interest in horror and the arcane, in the process, visiting Minnie’s manor less, and picking up more books Hosea would recommend instead.
- A month in, their friendship is going great, but through misfortune, Bart runs into Hosea as he came back from buying the latest monster novel of his favorite series. He hides it and tries to flee, only to hit his head on the door and drop the book. Hosea picks it up. Instead of running in terror like Bart imagined in his dreams, Hosea beams. He’d always wanted to read this series! But his mom would never let him even look at their covers. He’s stumbling with his words as he describes the few books he’d seen and what he imagined they were about, his face flushing from excitement, and Bart takes it all in. His worries melting, he smiles back and responds to all of his questions, explaining a few of the monsters, and reassuring him the scares were fun and worth finishing every book for. By the time they finish jabbering, Bart offers letting him read the books after school in his house, and Hosea agrees. Their bond got a little deeper that day.
- Two more months roll by and they manage to get Hosea through most of the books; their time holed up in Bart’s room, reading, becoming their favorite hours of the day. Sometimes Hosea has to leave a little earlier, other times he’s a little more quiet, but he never skips their hang out hours. Bart thinks he just needs to be alone sometimes and he doesn’t mind.
- Bart visits Minnie again, though less frequently than before. Their studies are going slower, their sessions mostly consisting of Bart ranting about his new friend instead. She doesn’t mind. She has her hands full with something else.
- Their calm time gets so gradually comfortable, that Bart doesn’t notice how close they’ve gotten until it hits him that he’s reading his Detective Drew book while laying his head on top of the napping boy. He’s eleven, and he’s never had a friend before. He doesn’t know if this is normal. He begins questioning every unconscious action they share, trying to analyze them using what little information he knows from books.
- He eventually told himself that they had simply reached that close level of friendship that the protagonists from his adventure/fantasy series had, and didn’t worry about it anymore, until-
- Hosea had been getting teased at school more for being the teacher’s favorite. One of the town boys had a crush on her, and took out his frustration by picking on Hosea when she wasn’t looking. Bart would always defend him, though, so they never got farther than a shove and some name calling. The town boy switched tactics one afternoon and went for Bart instead. He targeted him as he waited for Hosea to finish helping the teacher. The town boy mocked him on as many insecurities as he could, most of them deflecting until he brought up Hosea. He claimed Hosea only stuck with him because he was the only kid his mom let him hang out with, that he was so tiny and pathetic, poor Hosea was bored all the time. (idk shitty taunts about how Bart never actually scared the boy off, he just thought Bart was so funny looking he couldn’t keep a straight face, and Hosea was more embarrassed by him than anything. That they’re not real friends and Bart has been an annoyance all along.) Bart doesn’t really believe it, but little doubts nudge in and he wants to run. He barely turns around to bolt home when he hears a smack. He turns around and sees Hosea standing over the boy, having rammed him.
- Hosea yells at him to stop talking to Bart like that. He defends Bart, jumbling his words as he tries to talk faster than his normal speed, but his sentiment is clear. Bart is his best frien!. Bart is the coolest, the funnest, and he could certainly kick the boy’s butt onto next Sunday if he wanted to! The boy gets up and tries for intimidation, but Bart moves in to kick his leg. As the boy yowls, he takes Hosea’s hand and they run before any adults come. They stop to catch their breath in an dirty alley. Hosea is concerned if they’ll get in trouble for starting violence, but Bart reassures him. After a pause of contemplation, Bart asks him if what he said was true. Hosea is back to tripping on his words, but he spills all of his feelings. He admires Bart, and honestly thinks of him as the coolest kid he’s ever met. He wants to be more like him; strong, reliable, and honest. Both kids are embarrassed by the praise, Bart’s quickened heart making his mind race with it. This moment wasn’t reminding him of any scenes with the protagonists of his fantasy books. This was more like the scene of Detective Drew where his assistant confesses to him her love.
- He tries to shrug it off by awkwardly accepting the compliments and extra awkwardly praising Hosea too “I.... like that you’re smart?” They walk to his house in silence, but Bart’s mind is a battle. He tells himself this was nothing like that scene; no way did Hosea feel like that towards him! (But what if-) Nonono, no need to be silly. They get to his room and they start their reading, but Bart can’t focus on any words. He keeps rationalizing his friend’s behaviors to himself in a cycle, trying to force himself to accept that he was misinterpreting everything..... but for whatever reason not being able to let it go. He’s at his wits end by the time their hang out time is over, and he walks Hosea out. Hosea asks him if he was ok; he noticed how quiet Bart had been. Bart presses his lips and looks away. He confesses he’s still processing being called cool. Hosea fidgets for a while at the door. When Bart raises his eyes to see why, he notices Hosea’s face is back to blushing. “... B-But you a-are. You’re my hero.” Both boys’ eyes widen, and Hosea can’t even let out a farewell before booking it out. Bart is floored, overcome with new emotions of self-consciousness and awe.
- He’s in a daze during dinner and he can’t sleep that night. It’s only while rereading the last book of his fantasy series that he realizes there WAS a passage where both protagonists greatly praised one another... before going into battle. The protagonists end it with a hug, and Bart becomes aware of the new-found implications their past actions could be given. He realizes he might have been projecting the same expectations to Hosea. And he becomes scared as he starts to recognize what it was he was feeling when Hosea complimented him. 
... Bart liked Hosea.
- Lololol went into story mode. shit. Hopefully I can keep going cuz.. Im sticking pretty hard to this story so far. As the song goes, let’s see how far we(I) go ;w;
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sergeanttpoliteness · 5 years
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idk if you’re taking requests or anything, if you aren’t ignore this, but if you are I would die for a classic, upside down spider-man kiss with the loml spider-noir. poor guy would probably be very surprised at first but suddenly its his favorite thing to do. thanks I love you and your work!!
AND➝ mayhaps…. a first kiss with noir? if u have time! 
sorry for answering so late nonnies! i feel so bad about that, i promise i wasn’t ignoring y’all. same goes to the few other requests i have in my inbox right now! 
——-
➹ inconvenient feelings➹ (spider-noir x reader)
word count: 2.5k
a/n: can you tell i had no idea what to call this lol. i didn’t edit either bc… oof. i’ve been struggling a lot with writer’s block (nothing new, honestly lmaoo) lately and someone close to me recently passed away and i haven’t quite… been able to wrap my head around it?? i don’t know, not to be a little bitch but this week consisted of a lot of school stuff, emotions, and anxiety so thanks @ the people who requested this bc i needed to write some wholesome stuff. also thx at my bestie for helping me out w ideas, ily broz. anyway, there’s some minimum ripeter x reader although it’s solely platonic! hope you all have a lovely week (:
taglist: @marvelousmorales
It’s not convenient. Convenient was that one person with the pretty smile whose eyes seemed to possess an affinity to him that one time at a jazz club, or the singer with the honey voice and smooth runs more soothing than the late night singing of a mother to her child. A poor goon who smooched his fist whilst it collided with his face could even fit the designation, really— but what mattered, the simple component they shared, was that all three were just a speck in a sea with no end; an eternal blue void with only more possibilities hiding in the pitch-black depths neither he nor the light’s fingertips could touch. They were safe. Uncomplicated.
Peter stared out the window, at a completely distinct world, far from a city in a vintage film: the ongoing the mechanical song of speeding cars, the newer and taller lit up buildings, the blinking golden lights, identical to a field of a thousand miniscule suns. This was not convenient. It’s… so different— like day and night, water and fire. This meant to swim out of the ocean he belonged to and reach for a foreign land, to run after a mere drop of water when a whole fucking body existed behind him. It’s not safe. It’s complicated.
Your sleepy eyes roamed the same page for the fifth time with no precise purpose, more disoriented than a newcomer in a large city until they traveled and spotted their true destination: Peter’s own sight deeply engulfed in the view outside, the twisting of his brows every now and then filling your mind with wonder and curiosity at what could possibly be running through that brain of his. You could’ve continued with the ogling like the damn creep you were (seriously, you gotta stop it with that, you told yourself), but you slipped and made a mistake— the most laughably absurd misstep— worse than trying to take a picture of a stranger and then, to your utmost terror, the flash going off— which wouldn’t have occurred in the first place if you’d paid your electricity bills on time. Your apartment wouldn’t have been plunged into darkness, and you wouldn’t have, without thinking, your head clearly not in its right place at the moment, slightly tilted your phone and directed your phone’s flashlight right at the side of his face. You quickly pulled the beam of light away, as if that would work; however, his gaze drifted to you. “Sorry.” You blurted out, acting casual and pretending to focus on the journal on your lap. “You were so quiet, I thought you had fallen asleep.” You lied.
“No, I’m awake.” He said, furrowing his brows to himself— of course you already knew that. You mumbled a small ‘good’, holding the notebook close to your face, like a child staring through the window of a pet shop at some puppies, shining the ‘smartphone’, he’d learned, over the pages. You bit your lip, your shoulders shaking with your surfacing laughter.
“Oh, man, this one’s so dumb.” You snickered before running your finger up the paper, clearing your throat. “October 8th, 1999. Today I came back from my camping trip with Peter, Ben, and May. We ate a lot of s'mores— Uncle Ben makes the best! We also told some scary ghost stories, and I even made Pete scream. It was awesome. You will not believe what happened!” You read the last sentence with a dramatic tone, similar to that of a terrible news headline from a sketchy website, making yourself more comfortable on the L shaped bench seat and leaning into Peter’s side.
Peter tensed at first, but slowly, he pushed himself to relax after you rested your head on his shoulder, a quiet voice in the back of his head speaking against his desires, echoing the terrifying thought that he could get used to this. “I don’t know, enlighten me: what happened?” He asked, amused. You lifted your finger, eyebrows raising gradually, building up the suspense. He waited, and waited, and waited, until, finally—
“I have to go eat dinner. I’ll tell you later.” You finished with an unhumorous voice and a poker face. Yet again, he awaited in silence, interested. Man, you took this suspense thing quite seriously— wait.
“And?”
“That’s it.”
“That’s it?!” He looked down at you and you nodded. “Oh, c'mon! You just gonna leave the reader hanging like that?”
You shrugged, wearing a shit-eating grin, loving his genuine disappointment as you flicked the page. “Sometimes that’s just the way it is.”
“Oh, what malarkey!” He laughed softly. You crinkled your nose— malarkey. What a dork.
You resumed scanning the barely discernible handwriting, the corner of your mouth tugging upwards. “Alright, this one does have an ending.” You sat up, rolling your shoulders back only to go back to your position of hunching over the journal. “April 3rd, 2000. I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long, I forgot I had this journal. Something crazy happened.”
“The end.”
“Shut up.” You shushed him, shaking your head. “'I hung out with Peter today. We rode our bikes, had a race down the hill near my house, and I also got a butterfly to land on my finger. Man, I love insects!’ …and I still do.” You smiled and he glanced down at you, his mouth twitching. A peculiar glow in his chest grew, fueled him after he recognized that you felt comfortable enough to share this part of you with him; an insight on the stories that carved you into the person that you were today, the being that made every classy, pearly white grin and musical prodigy so boring, so undesirable.
You shuffled on your bum to turn and face Peter, continuing, “We came back home to play some more. We were sitting in front of the TV when, suddenly, he said my name, and like a normal person would, I looked at him…” You inclined forward, voice quieting, looking up at him.
“You won’t believe what happened.”
His eyes darted heavenward and he groaned. “Oh, lord.”
“He kissed me!” You cried out, with as much emotion that past you spilled onto the paper with the five exclamation marks and the three times you underlined the sentence. You slammed the notebook shut and let out a strangled clamor. “I still remember it very clearly. It was just a peck, but he fucking… smashed his mouth into mine, it hurt so much and my lip started bleeding and everything.” You giggled, abashed, rubbing your eyes.
Peter’s brows rose with surprise, pondering how an alternate seven-year-old version of him from another universe had more balls than him. He had to admit, though, the scene playing in his head was more entertaining than unfortunate. “And what’d you do?” He questioned, his mouth twitching.
“He was just curious and wanted to see what kissing someone was like, so we promised we wouldn’t talk about it ever again. He was so embarrassed, though, and felt so bad for making me bleed that he almost started crying.” You recalled, chuckling as you eyed the cursed diary one last time and placed it beside you. “What an idiot. I miss him.” You sighed, peering up at him, grinning. “What was your first kiss like, huh?”
It was comical, almost, the raging blush that trickled his face, the greyish tint screaming for the world’s attention. It was just a Peter Parker thing, you guessed: blushing like there was no tomorrow. “Uh, my first kiss?” You nodded. “Well… it happened when I was eighteen.”
You put the side of your head against the wall, eyes going round, your inquisitiveness close to that of a kid listening to a grandparent’s story. “Was it romantic?” You wanted to know everything: who the person was, the place, the context. Did he enjoy it? Did he make the move? And if so, then was there a chance that, maybe…
Unlike you, he did not have much interest in the subject; he stuttered, searching for a way to move on from the memory before he imploded. “I don’t, I don’t think anyone’s first kiss is romantic.”
You squinted at him, noticing his obvious attempt at dodging the question, but chose to spare him. Just for a few milliseconds, though. “Have you ever had… a perfect kiss?” You said, unsure of how to word such a silly question. He shook his head and you hummed, silently taking in a quick breath, your gaze moving to your right. “Have you thought about what you want it to be like?”
Should he say it? He wanted to. He really did. But he couldn’t, even if his eyes almost flickered down to your lips. “Who thinks about that?” He muttered. Perhaps he had. Perhaps he’d been guilty of having the thought slither into his mind once or twice— possibly more than just that. Perhaps it’d pestered his mind as of recent, like that damn small scratch on his glasses that won’t go away no matter how many times he tried to wipe it away as if that would even help. Perhaps it returned as you unconsciously licked your lips and raised your shoulder, a bashful grin growing on your face.
“I have, when I’m bored. An upside down kiss with a cute guy.” You admitted, your eyes narrowing afterward, only just now realizing how bizarre the idea was once you said it aloud. Your impatience throbbed in your head so badly you didn’t mind the embarrassment as much, though. You really were doing this, huh? “I think I found the cute guy.” You hinted, your heartbeat pounding in your throat.
He understood the insinuation, of course he did. But what better way to run from your feelings than close his trembling hand into a fist, pretend to be clueless, and act like an idiot?
“Who’s the lucky fella?”
Didn’t think he was so stupid, you grumbled in your head, masking your faint irritation. You pressed your lips together, sight on your cushions. “Someone I like quite a lot.” You vaguely said, voice distant. “Though I don’t think you’d understand— you’re not one to fall in love, no?”
It was half a joke but half a real question, one with solely one right answer you yearned to hear from him if you got lucky enough. Peter blinked nervously, fear burning in his stomach, clenching his insides as his tongue dared to break free from his control, from his cowardly spell. “Lately I’ve had someone in mind.” He breathed out, close to breaking out in a sweat. He watched how your eyes dimly lit up, hesitance impeding the light from fully glowing.
“Really? And who is this ‘someone’?”
“It’s a secret.”
“Tell me.”
“Not now.” He gulped. You pouted, begging with your eyes. “N-no.”
“Are you ever gonna make a move?”
Peter drew his lower lip between his teeth, feeling dizzy just by thinking about it; the downfall of the relationship once the distance became too much, once the malaise with no cure finally rotted the adoration, infested the heart, decayed it. “No.” Same answer. Same bedeviled word that boomed in his head whenever his emotions were close to getting the best of him.
“Why haven’t you done it yet?” You whispered, not caring anymore about how obvious you were
being. He frowned. Why hadn’t he done it yet?
“I don’t know if I should.”
“Why not?”
Why not? His own thoughts repeated, betraying him. The confusion unlatched the cage, released all the questions and doubts about his reasons and dread. They crowded his brain, rang in his ears. “It’s… it’d be too hard to keep the relationship alive.” He retold more to himself and the storm of interrogations than you.
Your brows snapped together, your own fear knocking on the door again. “Is it not worth it to try, though?” It’s what you’d told yourself: the antidote to unfreeze your limbs and wave goodbye at the concern hanging in there, because… was it not?
In the overwhelming haziness, he finally looked at you. It’s what he needed to come upon a realization, a truth he knew all along but crumbled and threw away. Everything hushed, one single, final phrase in the quiet of it all.
Convenient wasn’t what he wanted.
“It is.” He said under his breath.
You heard him, and your eyes twinkled. “Well, then make the move.”
He couldn’t help it anymore. His eyes found your lips.
“I will.”
You stared at each other for a moment, anticipation never more warming than right then as it fluttered in your chest. To your biggest disappointment, he broke eye contact and stood up. “Close your eyes for a moment.” He ordered, his face indistinguishable in the dark now that he was further away.
“Creepy, but okay.” You huffed, your eyelids fluttering shut. “You better not be running away right now, you’d break my poor ol’ heart.”
“Don’t worry, that’s not the case.” You heard him say. You trusted him, which could’ve been a terrible choice. The total silence that followed didn’t put you to ease at all, honestly. Maybe you annoyed him so much with your questions that he was about to murder you, and if that’s what was happening, you were quite sad, to say the least.
Your eyelids were itching to open and you lifted a brow, straining your ears to distinguish any sign of his presence. “What the hell are you doing?”
“You’re not gonna believe what’s about to happen.”
You snorted at his reference, but his voice was… oddly close. You opened your eyes, and— “Oh, fuck!” You yelped and jumped back in your seat. Damn right you weren’t gonna believe what was about to happen, for Peter dangled from the ceiling right in front of you, upside down.
“Is it too much of a strange idea? I was going to simply stick to the ceiling upside down, but then I thought… that’d be… worse.” He clumsily explained. You looked up at the web he hung from, laughing in disbelief.
“What the hell are you doing?” You repeated, but you weren’t mad— your large smile backed that up. You couldn’t figure out if it was a blush creeping up his face or if it was from the fact that he was upside down. Both, maybe.
“I’m making a move.”
You giggled, glad you confessed what you considered to be a perfect type of kiss to him or else you wouldn’t had witnessed how absolutely ridiculous he looked right now. “So you’re willing to help me check 'kissing someone upside down’ off my bucket list?” You smirked.
He grinned. “It would be my pleasure.”
You bit your lip, placing both hands on his head. “Alright, then.“ 
You leaned forward, the tip of your nose brushing against his chin. You softly kissed the area below his bottom lip to tease him, but he didn’t want to wait any longer. Not after so long. Quickly, he enclosed your own bottom lip with his mouth, lastly fully aware that inconvenient truly was magnificent.
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rika-kihira · 4 years
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Rika Kihira x Gutto sports
A while ago Rika appeared in a Japanese tv program. The program was pretty long and unfortunately a full video of it isn’t available at the moment. However the program, cut in 6 parts, was uploaded on drive and translated by @juronom on twitter. 
Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
Translation of the most interesting parts, done by Juro, please do not repost without credit.  Part 1:  Gutto Sport presenters commented that Rika is smaller in height than what her aura gives off. They ask Takeshi Honda and Akiko Suzuki about their shared skating experience with Rika.
T: We skated together at Kandai rink, so I meet her almost every day. I just met her yesterday too.
R: I lost count how many times I greet you already *laugh*
TH: She’s like *comes up to me* “Konnichiwa” (Hello), then skate away, then come back and “Konnichiwa” again.
A questionnaire with Rika on what she thought was her best weapon?
Upper left: Maintain positivity Lower left: No edge error Right: 3A (no 1)
The secret of her 3A:
- “The type that hasn’t been seen until now”-Takeshi Honda
- Comparison with legendary 3A by Japanese ladies:
o Midori Ito: height that can be comparable to men’s 3A
o Mao Asada: beautiful air position (vertical jumping posture)
o Rika Kihira: quick rotation, clear-cut (neat, sharp) 3A => allows her landing to be relaxed&free
On what she used as reference for her jumps:
“In the past, I used to refer to male skaters’ method of jumping quads, etc, carefully observe them. Then I always looked at Mao-chan’s amazing 3A as well. Recently, I rely on observation of) my own best condition, how much of the intensity of (practice) it can handle. Something like “When my muscles are at this condition, I should practice increase the intensity of my practice (practice many times).” On the other hand, if on that day, my jumps are off, I’d stop and let my body return (to its good condition) properly.”
Physical check: the secret why Rika can rotate so fast?
According to Prof Sakurai Tomono- researching on the mechanism of athletes’ muscles: her hip and thigh muscles can contract quickly.
Experiment for Rika: measuring the distance of one’s bunny hop from a kneeling position.
Average for boys: 41cm; girls: 20cm
Rika’s distance was 65cm
Part 2 
Another secret: Rika is very “obsessed” with her skates (including blades)
She brought the pair she was using at the moment to the set.
Each of Her skating boots, (like other skaters’), is meticulously customized. When the skates first arrived, she had to adjust the blades’ position and angle, how much they lean forward or backward, towards one side or another etc, by herself carefully. She couldn’t say she could adjust them to their perfect condition, but she tried her best to tune them to as convenient a position as possible for her skating, millimeter by millimeter. Not only the position, but the gap between boots and blades are also controlled. Even if the gap is one 1mm wider or narrower, her skating can be affected greatly, to the extent that she could either do 30 3As in one day or none with the boots.
It takes more than 2 weeks to get used to a new pair.
Presenter asked why she couldn’t keep using the same pair.
It’s because the leather will soften, especially at the area around laces. Rika said when there’re some leather materials coming off around that area, she can’t jump at all. She changed boots around every 3 months, and since the boots take 3 weeks to be produced, she couldn’t change to a new pair immediately, and must notice when the pair in use shows some signs of softening.
The presenters need to stop Rika before she talks forever about her skating boots-her obsession.
Rika: “And then, recently, this part…” Everyone laughs: “She honestly can stop”
Questionnaire with Rika:
What does Rika have on her mind: 100% figure skating.
Takeshi Honda’s question: “Rika, is that really ok?”
It’s about her socks.
Skaters generally stick certain types of specially made socks produced by 1 brand when competing, but Rika is ok with any types of socks and doesn’t mind if her socks are ankle-length or longer. She just grabbed a random pair if she forgot her socks. (t/n: she’s actually using the kind of cute socks sold at tutu-ana (1000yen for 3 pairs) or gift shops lollll)
Akiko Suzuki’s question:
Akiko noticed that at ice shows, before eating, Rika always quickly takes photo before eating, but not in the manner suitable for posting food photos on SNS. Akiko thinks she did it to calculate nutrition value.
Rika: “After a day, I calculate my total calories intake. Combini food has calories value on them, but I don’t know the values for every separate item, so I took photos of everything, then calculate the amount later”.
Presenter: Is it hard to maintain (athletic) body form?
Rika: “Yes, I try as hard as I can. Even if I lose weight (or gain weight). If I lose too much weight, I can’t jump.”
Presenter: As a 17-year-old girl, you may want to eat things like sweets, drink tapioca tea etc…?
Rika: “Well technically I can, but when I eat things like cake or tapioca, which still adds to the amount of calories intake, meat, or such is still important, so I need to eat food that can be converted into energy correctly. If I eat cake or tapioca, my diet’s efficiency will be tampered with.”
Presenter: You can’t even after winning?
Rika: “But still, I still eat the food that can be converted to energy…”
Presenter: “Pizza and cola?”
Rika: *shake her head vigorously*
“If I sleep with an unfilled stomach, I feel like my muscles aren’t there. There are times when I was thinking about whether to get dinner or not, or just only eat the meat properly (not carbs), and then I felt like my muscles decrease, so I concluded that I must properly eat dinner anyways.”
Part 3
Coach Hamada rating Rika:
“She is very disciplined. Her practice ability is very good, and she always has the drive to improve herself. Not in a reckless but proper way.” Scoring (from upper left going right)
- Comprehensiveness (4)
- Linguistic ability (2):  “I wish she could handle English questions in interview sessions or press-conferences. Since she is competing internationally, it’d be nice if her linguistic ability could be improved. Also, she may have more and more international friends, and international fans.”
- Performing ability (4)
- Decisiveness (4)
- Athleticism (5)
- Narcissist power(3) (t/n: lol what =)) but sorry it wasn’t mentioned at all)
- Talkativeness (2): “She doesn’t talk much. I’ve never heard her jokes”
- Humor (2)
- Girliness(4): “She has good sense of fashion, how to coordinate clothes.”
- Considerateness (4): “At ice shows, she always immediately wears and takes photos with all the presents from fans. She wants to send her gratitude to fans, and tell everyone she is really happy with the gifts, which she can’t do often.”
Rika: “Yes, I’m bad (at English). There are many times I want to tell (international fans) “I’m very happy that you support me”, but I don’t know how to. So I just *raise both hands and wave nervously while saying “hai (yes)” and nodding*”
Figure skating’s This and That – presented by Satoko Miyahara.
Top 3 Figure skating truths by Satoko
1. I’m very embarrassed when messing up the stsq.
2. I fight time difference (jet lag) every day.
3. I only forget important things. (Satoko’s story about losing her Olympics ID)
On practicing with Satoko:
Rika: “I practice with her almost every day.”
Presenter: So do you talk?
Rika: “Yes, but for things irrelevant to skating. Satoko normally said things like “I forgot my CD >_<”. Satoko-chan is really interesting”
Figure skating truths by Rika
1. What does she think throughout a 4-min performance?
“There’re many things I think about. For instance: “The axel is coming up next”; “It’s bad if I overdo this part”; “I can’t miss this axel”; “If I made mistake on this jump, all the jumps I landed until now will become meaningless”.
Asked about whether she had entered a “zone”, where she wasn’t thinking anything but everything went well.
“In the past, that happened to me a lot too, but recently, sometimes I don’t think when performing, and there’s excitement too. However, when looking at and understand the real event happening, and thinking that “I don’t want to repeat the mistakes I’ve made until now” …then (that thought) appears in front of me, and in my head, then I’d think that “I don’t want to this (repeat the mistake)” and reconfirm the jumps. When I jump, it’s unconscious reflex, but I think about my surrounding, my own conditions or even my nervousness.”
Presenter: It’s the positive feelings of being able to see everything.
Rika: “Yes, it’s like that”.
Part 4
Choreography challenge with Ryouga Haruhi (t/n: Ryouga is known for playing male role in Takarazuka Revenue, a Japanese all-female musical theater troupe)
The program discussed the role of expression.
Presenter asked Rika what she does as supplement to her expression in figure skating.
Rika: “I do classical ballet around 2-3 hours/week, and I also go to dance school”
Presenter: Dance school? Like rock dance and hiphop?
Rika: “Yes, things like hiphop.”
*show vid of her practicing dance in the US *
Rika: “This is the dance lesson I had in the US, but normally, I have dance lessons that use more hip-hop-like music and more strong movements.”
Everyone complimented on her (and Satoko’s) beautiful movement.
Rika wanted to ask Ryoga about the way she and Takarazuka actresses use their expression, how they pose, and the angle of their faces.
Ryoga explained that expressions showed of male and female roles are opposite: soft and flexible vs cool, then she proceeded to give “posing” lesson. She showed the movement patterns of: female role, lower-class male role and upper-class male role.
Rika was asked to do the movement of “lower-class man” then “upper-class man” (the one with hand on her face) and she managed very well, receiving compliments from the presenters. Part 5
About the Nobeyama Kougen training camp, known as the place where “Golden-eggs” of Japan figure skating are assembled. Notable alumni: Mao Asada, Yuzuru Hanyu, Takeshi Honda, Shizuka Arakawa, Rika Kihira.
The training camp is 4 days long, with various training sessions from 8am-9.30pm. The camp’s purpose is to evaluate and search for skaters with potential and to check their living attitude as well, like how they conform to curfews, etc. Rika went to the camp 3 years ago, and she said it was very tough.
Rika: “(Being there), you have to worry about whether you will be seeded or if you will be assigned to any competition, and then there’ll be new comers…so in every aspect, you have no way but show you are the best one. Even off-ice physical checking is so tough, squatting/ running around etc, that on the next day, I can’t even move my legs or climb the stairs, but still have to perform programs.”
Presenter: Do you want to go back?
Rika: “Maybe”
Akiko said being there makes you realize she was hand-picked from among all skating children in Japan. That really changes her working attitude and elevates her determination.
Video about legendary 3A by Midori Ito, done 1 minute before the end of her program at 1992 Olympics. The 3A has become the trail-blazer for future generations.
Rika: “I don’t think I can do 3A in the latter half at all. It’s already so tough to have it as the 2nd or 3rd jump but I don’t think I’ve ever tried jumping it 1 minute before the end of the program.”
Part 6
Rika’s impression of Midori Ito: “I experienced challenging 3A but failing in competitions. The first time I met her, she comforted me: “Ahh 3A is very difficult. Though it’s difficult, I really support you”, such kind actions.”
Presenter: But you haven’t got any chance to talk to her leisurely
Rika: “No, I haven’t”
Presenter: Let’s do it now ^^
Rika: “Heeehhh”
Midori Ito appeared: “You’ve worked hard” (to Rika)
“I’m so happy. You even remember the 1st time we met. That makes me so happy.”
Rika: “I do remember”
Midori: “Really?”
“It’s amazing. You can jump it (3A) stably now” to Rika.
Midori said she contemplated whether to do 3Lz or 3A when she was spinning in that program, then decided to do 3A. She asked Rika: “If you made mistake on the 1st 3A, do you think about the 2nd time?”
Rika: ”Well, but I’ve not thought about it in the latter half, really, (3A) in the latter half it’s sugoii…”
Midori’s secret for her super high 3A is to “skate with all her power at top speed”. Because she entered 3A at a very high speed, she can get to that height. She described that method of jumping 3A is like: “Doing long jump (a athletic sport) but rotating at the same time” (t/n: Rika’s face loll)
Rika said she didn’t jump 3A at top speed because she can’t control her axis.
Midori: “However, in my generation, we just focus on doing our jumps at high speed, but in Kihira-san’s generation, the programs have to be beautiful as whole, and in such programs, there is 3A. It’s a generation that (3A) isn’t effective if the programs aren’t beautiful itself. It’s amazing that there are beautiful programs but at the same time allow to do 3A efficiently.” *looks at Rika* Rika is very happy to receive advice from Midori. Rika: “With this experience, I will try harder and harder every day in order to create a sense of stability. Then, I must perform quads cleanly too.”
Midori’s advice to Rika: “She’s very serious. She is already going forward while staying fixated to her goal. So, *looks at Rika* try to keep yourself in good health. You can’t suddenly jump triples or quads. You can’t say you’ll be free of injury at all, but you have to make compromises with injury and your body conditions. When you’re injured, there’re things you can’t do, so..but then, it’s vital to harmonize things you haven’t done and your techniques. It’ll be nice if you can try to balance those things. I hope that you’ll try your best.”
Rika’s aims: “This season, my first goal is to aim for the podium at the World championship, which I couldn’t do last season. Then, I will make my best effort every day towards my biggest dream of winning the Beijing Olympics.”
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