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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

not allowed, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader; established relationship yoongi x reader

summary: The love of your life, BTS’s very own Min Yoongi, tells you he has a gift for you. But he also says you’re not allowed to refuse. What’s that supposed to mean, hm? Surely not... wild hot sex with the Golden Maknae himself?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship with Yoongi (takes place after his surgery); smut (fem reader, m-receiving oral, dirty talk, penetrative sex, doggy, spanking); idol!BTS; it’s self-indulgent and I’m a little ashamed but it’s too late now, whoops

Just... just looking through the Twitter tag couldn't hurt, right?

You scrolled through the pictures slowly. They performed really well these past two days. Received all the awards they deserved, because BTS were the best. Still, it depressed you seeing the empty space where Min Yoongi was supposed to be.

But that was because Yoongi was beside you, propped up in the bed with pillows, scrolling on his phone with his right hand. Occasionally, he would lower it to use both hands, since his left arm was still in the sling. You two had watched the MMA and MAMA 2020 performances together. You knew he wanted to be there. You could hear it in his voice when he called in.

Oh, that’s right, were you supposed to be in his apartment?

No.

But you didn't care about rules and neither did Yoongi.

Were you dating? Well, as much as dating could be when it came to a relationship with the most loved 'lil meow meow' in the whole world.

Yoongi always gave you this look of disapproval when you called him that, but you would always just smile and say it again, slower.

It was the kind of thing that simply fell into place and neither of you wanted to convolute it with too many other opinions or thoughts. What happened, happened. You weren't going to make yourself known or ask for impossible things. When he told you that he was getting surgery for his left shoulder and wouldn’t have schedules for a long while, you cashed in on all those sick hours you accumulated at work, stating you had to take care of a loved one.

No one knew your loved one was Min Yoongi. And that's way you two liked it.

Yoongi leaned over to the long straw of the water bottle tucked in the crook of your arm.

"Staring at our maknae again?"

You stiffened. "I'm looking at all their pictures, Yoongi. Just happened to stop on Jungkook."

He took a short sip.

"Mmm-hmm."

A few seconds past. You stared at Jungkook’s intense dark eyes, his long hair flying about from dancing, his clenched jaw as he focused. Looking sinful in all white, tempting you to save the photos.

"You're not changing the screen."

"I'm admiring the stylists' hard work."

Yoongi hummed. "You're a bad liar."

You would have thrown your phone at him if it wasn't the special edition BTS S20+, complete with a Shooky phone case. You swiped past, seeing the image of Jungkook lifting Jimin in the Black Swan performance.

"I should tell him."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Sick of me?"

"No." He pointed to his left arm. "Can't take care of you either."

"I don't want to be the reason you need more months of physical therapy. I'm fine."

Yoongi placed his phone in his lap and placed his right arm around your shoulders. "We could risk it," he purred.

You chuckled. "I don't think that's a good idea." You leaned your head against his shoulder. "I want to see you preform again."

"But you still want to bang Jungkookie."

A muscle in your eyebrow twitched. "I'm only looking at the pictures, Yoongi. You know you're the only one for me."

"You wouldn't try? Even if he begged you?"

You turned to Yoongi and his crafty smirk. "No." You stared at his lips and leaned in, kissing him lightly. You smiled against them. "I love you, Yoongi." Your smile turned into a smirk. "I worked too hard to sneak in here. Even outsmarted Dispatch. You can't get rid of me so easily."

Yoongi smiled back. He leaned against the headboard.

"What if I was okay with it?”

You blinked at him. "Why would you be okay with it?”

Yoongi shrugged. "You're mine, no matter what, no? Not even Jungkook's dick is going to change that."

"... Hah?"

Yoongi held up his hand, long fingers spread out. He ticked them down as he spoke. "Pros: my woman gets to satisfy her little crush, gets the fucking she wants, and will be happy."

You felt your ears burn. "Yoongi..."

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, wicked smile on his lips. "Cons... none."

You rolled your eyes. "You'd be pissed off."

He tilted his head. "What do I have to be pissed off for? Are you saying there's a reason I should be worried?"

You frowned. "No. Even if it did happen, which it won't, you will always be number one."

Yoongi nodded. "There you go."

You let out a puff of air. "I don't think Jungkook would agree anyway. And I wouldn't do it, because it's not the right thing to do."

"Who decided it's wrong?"

You made a face. "I don't know... society?"

"And we trust that societal rules are just and moral?"

"I mean, no..."

Washing your hair was always a pain in the ass.

You had to blow-dry it upside down, add five products at different stages, brush it super carefully with a special brush to avoid breakage, collect the fallen hair and throw it out, blah blah blah.

You shrugged on one of Yoongi's shirts after the shower – the black-and-white checkered one he wore during his VLive. Running your hand through your hair, you finally picked up your phone. Yoongi was at physical therapy, so he wouldn't be back for a while. You had some messages from him, probably before he had to put his phone away.

I sent you a gift. It will arrive today. You are not allowed to refuse.

You raised your eyebrows at that.

P.S. Merry early Christmas.

Was it jewelry? You pursed your lips. You always told Yoongi not to buy you things. Firstly, because you felt bad you could never reciprocate the amount he spent. You didn't make the money he made, after all. And secondly, you weren't that interested in owning expensive things. The only expensive items you loved were technology-based. Yoongi and you bonded over the newest Samsung products and always kept an eye on the latest tech.

Maybe that was it? Maybe you had to collect a package. You mused, brushing your teeth. You were going to borrow Yoongi's pants, but you had to go hunt for some. After the teeth brushing.

You spat and gargled some water.

The front door opened.

You frowned. Was physical therapy canceled? Yoongi didn't have people come in and clean the apartment, because he didn't want anyone to find you. You weren't supposed to be here and no one knew you were here – except for his members, of course. But they didn't have the key, so it had to be Yoongi. You waited, in case there was someone outside. You didn't want them to hear your voice. The door closed and relocked.

You spat and rinsed out your mouth before turning off the light and going to the hallway.

"Yoongi, was physical therapy can–"

The head of long black hair lifted and turned around. He was in the middle of taking off his black sneakers. He pulled down his black face mask.

It was not Yoongi.

"Hey, noona."

Abort.

You backed up.

"J-J-Jungkook?"

The mischievous maknae grinned.

"I'm the gift."

Your eyes widened. You whipped your phone to your face, nearly dropping it, juggling it for two seconds before slapping it between your palms and rereading Yoongi's messages. Rereading them way too many times because what? What, what, WHAT?

"D-don't you have p-practice?" Why were you stuttering? You never stuttered. But you never had that conversation with Yoongi until a couple days ago either.

"I have some time, but I have to go back, yeah," Jungkook replied, far too cheerfully for how flustered you were. He was probably trying not to laugh at you.

"How did you get in? And what do you mean, y-you're the...?"

You felt like your world was spinning. Did Jeon Jungkook just announce he was the gift? What? You're not allowed to refuse. Of course, you were going to refuse! This was Min Yoongi you were in love with! The cutest in the entire world!

Jungkook brushed back part of his long hair and tucked it behind his ear, revealing half of his forehead and his silver hoops. Smirk on his pink lips, the mole underneath his lower lip winking at you. Skin tan and glowing in the hallway light.

...

Okay, yes, Jeon Jungkook was very handsome, but it didn't matter because–

"Hyung and I had a talk. He gave me the key," Jungkook said, dangling it.

"Hahaha, why would be do that?" you laughed nervously, still crab-walking backwards because maybe if you just fused with the wall then you were be spared from those penetrating dark brown eyes.

Jungkook stepped into the apartment, following you. “I was surprised too.” He smiled somewhat apologetically. “I guess he overheard me telling Taehyung that I would totally fuck you if you weren’t hyung’s girlfriend.”

You blinked rapidly. “P-pardon?”

Jungkook held up his hands. Oh dear. His pretty, large hands that reminded you of Yoongi’s, but his right hand was tattooed. “But I wasn’t going to do anything though. Promise.” His eyes shifted upwards and then he looked back at you, his rueful expression turning into one of slyness. Shit. “Well, until Yoongi-hyung asked me to, that is.”

You stumbled in the doorframe of the bedroom. To be honest, you kept backing up because Jungkook advancing on you was making you uneasy, hot, and bothered. With emphasis on the latter two. You still couldn’t believe Yoongi would do this to you. This was Yoongi! Mild-mannered, sweetie with swagger, SUGA of BTS!

Then you had a thought.

You were always very good at teasing Yoongi. Either to annoy him or sexually in public situations. You could imagine Yoongi’s smirking face now. Knowing he got the one-up on you. Knowing he’d finally shocked you.

You’re not allowed to refuse.

The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed. A hot shiver went up your spine. Jungkook was right in front of you. Black parka, black jeans. Jungkook unzipped the parka, shrugging out of it. Black dress shirt. You knew Jungkook did not like wearing button-ups. Why was he wearing it? He unbuttoned the first one, revealing his collarbone. Then the second one. Open-mouthed smirk completed with his tongue between his teeth, dark eyes on your shaking form.

The maknae was going to fucking striptease you?

You held a hand up. “Hold on a second.”

Jungkook’s fingertips paused above the next button.

“You’re doing this… for fun?”

Jungkook tilted his head. “No. Not really for fun.” His voice was low, deep. His eyes trailed down your body, then back up to your face, lingering all over you. You swallowed. “I’m doing this because this is the only chance I’ll get.”

“What if I say no?”

Jungkook lowered his hand. “Hyung said you weren’t allowed to refuse.” His voice was softer now, almost pouting. Ouch. It actually pained you. You wanted to give in to him just like that. You loved Yoongi with all your heart, but the maknae’s charms definitely worked on you. They worked on everyone. Everyone loved Jungkook and wanted to give him everything.

“Jungkook,” you breathed, trying to reorient yourself, trying to find the right words. “I’m not saying I’m not interested. I definitely am.” He observed you carefully as you groped for the right words. “But this is a little crazy. And… you could get anyone.”

“I couldn’t get you.”

You slowly, slowly made eye contact with him. Jungkook took a step towards you. You didn’t move, transfixed by his chocolate eyes.

“The way you slowly fell in love with Yoongi-hyung,” he whispered, getting closer and closer. “You didn’t even notice. You still don’t notice. The way I stare at you, you and the beautiful shape of your eyes.” His finger came up and traced your eyes, rooting you in place. “Your cute nose. The shape of your lips.” His fingertip brushed against your lower lip. “So full. I watch you kiss him, wishing it was me.” He caressed your cheek. “The dimples that appear when you smile. So cruel.”

Jungkook’s breathing shallowed. His eyes flickered downwards to your hands, still clutching your phone. He reached for it and took it from you. Threw it onto the bed. Then his hands wrapped around yours, clutching them tight. You stopped breathing. Jungkook’s voice dropped several octaves.

“I watch your hands. Touching him, resting on his thigh, tracing up, palming him right in front of us.”

“I didn’t… think anyone would notice.”

Jungkook leaned in even more, still holding your hands tightly, as if they were going to disappear. You could smell his clean scent, like fresh laundry.

“I always notice,” he murmured. “Whenever you’re there, I can’t help but have my eyes on you. I couldn’t touch, but I could look. I thought that was all I could have.”

Jungkook let go of you. Hand dancing up your neck, cupping your cheek. Tilted his head, eyelashes lowering. Breath against your lips. Eyes pleading you, waiting for the heartbreak.

“Please let me kiss you.”

You’re not allowed to refuse.

You pressed your lips against Jungkook’s, eyes closing. It was impossible to say no. He was sweet and soft. You could feel his nerves and his fear in his kiss, not trying to ask for more, not wanting to ask for too much. It was you who hooked an arm around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Right, wrong? That didn’t matter right now. The only thing you cared about right now was taking Jungkook’s fear away.

You pulled him onto the bed, arms around his neck, mumbling his name against his lips. His breathing hitched, hands circling your waist, holding onto you.

“Noona…”

“Call me by name, Jungkook.”

He gulped, shaking his head. “I can’t.” He gnawed on his lip anxiously. You smiled, and took his hands, placing them by the buttons of his shirt.

“Weren’t you in the middle of giving me a show?” you teased. “You’re great at putting on a show.”

Jungkook’s lips curved into a smile. “Oh yeah?”

You settled down into the bed, looking up at him from in between his thighs. You could tell Jungkook was still nervous, but there was something else too. His mischief was creeping back into his sparkling eyes. You cocked an eyebrow, smirking. He undid another button. And another. Carefully, playfully pulling the fabric apart, revealing a little of his skin at a time.

“Hyung told me you like staring at my pictures.”

You shrugged, licking your lips. “They’re nice photos.”

“Were you satisfied by just looking at pictures?” he purred, already reaching lower, lower. You could see the contours of his muscular torso, the top of his abs. Ugh, Jungkook was so attractive. Scratch that, so fucking hot. He reached the bottom of his shirt and placed two fingers under your chin, pushing it back up to his face.

“My eyes are up here.”

His fingers under your chin made you realize how hard you were breathing.

“Jungkook.”

He tilted his head at you, long hair covering part of his face.

Yoongi’s words came back to you. My woman gets to satisfy her little crush. At the time, you thought those words were referring to your crush in Jungkook. But perhaps it was the other way around. Maybe Yoongi was referring to you satisfying Jungkook.

“Don’t hold back.”

And then you got up from the bed, grabbing the collar of his dress shirt and yanking them down Jungkook’s shoulders, kissing him again, but harder this time, tongue sliding into his mouth and thrusting into it, taking his breath away. Jungkook’s eyes went wide, gasping against your tongue, struggling to get out of his sleeves before he scrambled for the buttons on your shirt, moaning as you sucked on his tongue, gripping his upper arms.

“N-noona…”

“Call me by name or nothing at all,” you growled dangerously.

His dark eyes bored into you, daring you. You nipped at his lower lip, grinning.

“You think you’re the only one who’s horny here?”

Your hands danced around his arms, reaching around him, and your nails scratched him down his broad back, hissing as he moaned, tipping his head back, Adam’s apple shaking. Fuck, it felt so good. It felt so fucking good to drag your nails down that back, seeing Jungkook lose some control, falling more and more into the moment. You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around him, shuddering as his hard body was pressed against you and your half-open shirt.

“I want it all,” you breathed. “I’m so greedy, but I want it all, Jungkook. Give it to me.” Voice dropping, inhaling his delicious scent. “Please.”

He growled deep in his chest and grabbed the bottom of your shirt, yanking up and revealing your bra clasp, undoing it easily. Pushed you back, swiftly pulling your shirt and bra off together, tossing it aside to the floor.

“Fuck, your tits are as pretty as I thought they would be.”

And then Jungkook’s mouth was on you, furiously kissing down your neck, licking your collarbones, biting your shoulder, his hands roughly squeezing your breasts. You moaned, your nipples pressed against his thumbs, pinching them against the side of his hand. His lips travelled down, down and then they latched around your nipple, flicking it with his tongue. Your hands flew up into his hair, gripping it tightly.

“Fuck, they even taste good,” he whined. “You taste so fucking good.”

Your back arched as he began to suck, running your hands through his hair, whimpering his name, telling him how good he was, how nice it felt, lost in the feeling of his tongue and his strong arms around your waist. He switched to the other nipple, saliva dripping. Licking it all over and then breathing on it with his hot breath. Your entire body trembled in his arms from the sensation.

“I’m drooling; that’s how fucking good you taste,” Jungkook mumbled, sucking hard and tight, dark eyes on you as you cried out softly, holding onto his head. Your fingers curled into his long locks, grasping them tightly. He raised his eyebrow, but you began to rock back and forth into his mouth, tugging your nipple with his lips. Jungkook’s fingers dug into you, erotic groans vibrating in his throat as you fucked his face with your tits.

Wetness soaked your panties, the scent of your sex getting stronger and stronger.

Jungkook removed his lips, sucking in a tight breath. Your name slid out of his mouth in a tight hiss, no honorifics. You felt your pussy throb hearing your name come from his lips, saturated with desire. You grinned.

“Took you long enough, Jungkookie.”

He chuckled, grabbing your hips and shoving them up into his jean-covered crotch. You gasped. You could feel his erection straining against the thick fabric, grinding against your soaked panties. Fuck, you couldn’t stop staring at Jungkook, him and his sharp jawline and his beautiful eyes and his playful smirk on his damn lips, infuriating and arousing you.

“You’re so fucking irresistible,” you whispered, rolling your hips into him hard. It was his turn to gasp, his turn to shudder at your movements. The way you could turn him from smug confidence to those submissive doe eyes was turning you on way too much.

You wanted to ruin him and be ruined by him.

You grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him onto the bed. He yelped as you slid down, nails racking down his torso, whimpering in your wake. The front of his jeans was wet with your juices. You undid the button, zipping them down.

“How are you going to explain this?” you smirked, gesturing down to the giant wet sport at the front of his pants.

“They’re black,” Jungkook panted. “It’ll be fine.”

You laughed, pulling them down his legs. Jungkook’s hand flew down, reaching into his back pocket, pulling out a condom. You tilted your head.

“Only one?”

He looked down at you, startled. “W-well… I don’t know if you want more….”

You raised an eyebrow and reached over to the nightstand, opening it and taking out the whole damn box.

“Er… I cannot cum that many times. In one sitting, anyway.”

“Ah, well, let’s just see then.”

You peeled his jeans and boxer briefs off, licking your lips as your hungry eyes landed on his cock. Half-hard, pre-cum glistening at the tip. Jungkook swallowed nervously, but you crawled on top of him, immediately licking a fat stripe down his entire length. You moaned with him, feeling the blood rushing to his cock, pulsing against your lips. You hadn’t had sex in a while, trying not to tempt Yoongi or aggravate his injury. His recovery was too important to not only you, but the nation and the world. So, you kept your need to yourself, but now Jungkook’s cock was right on front of you.

And there was nothing to stop you.

You pressed your lips against his balls, licking them all over, playing with them with your tongue. Jungkook groaned above you, grabbing fistfuls of sheets as you began to suck on them, bobbing your head up and down. He was panting your name breathlessly, helpless as you pulled your head back, his balls slowly slipping out from between your lips.

You kissed up his length, tongue swirling around the head before taking him in, all the way, softly but firmly. If there was anything Yoongi’s tongue technology taught you, it was how to apply his technique to giving head, much to his surprise. You were good at extrapolation. You pressed the head into the roof of your mouth, raking it all the way to the upper part of your throat and tightening. Jungkook gasped, eyelids fluttering as your tongue assaulted the bottom of his cock, from the bottom of the head to the base.

You heard something between the lines of, “Holy fuck”, “What the hell”, and “Oh my fucking God.”

You retreated for a second, wrapped your tongue all the way around the head and teased the thin skin right where the head and length connected, repeatedly rubbing your lips over it before going all the way down again.

Now Jungkook was absolutely incomprehensible as you began to suck him off, fast and tight, lips soft compared to the vacuum of your mouth. Was it unfair? Yes, it was, giving him soft and hard, rough and wet, scraping the head against the back of your throat and choking it with your muscles. Jungkook was whimpering and cursing, his thighs flexing under you, tasting so fucking good that you were dripping between your own thighs.

You didn’t stop.

Faster and faster, holding his hips down, watching Jungkook unravel under you, hands in his long hair and slamming his head back into the pillows, covering his mouth as he screamed your name into his palm. You felt his cock spurt his cum into the back of your throat, your muscles constricting as you drank him up, your moans added vibration along his length.

The first orgasm was always the most and tasted the best. So much, coating the entire inside of your mouth, your tongue swiping around his cock to collect it all. You lapped it all up, encouraging his cock to get hard again. Smirking as you succeeded, popping your mouth off gently.

“What position do you want me in, Jungkook?” you murmured, throat a little hoarse, taking the condom and opening it, rolling it onto his cock.

He moved his palm from his mouth, panting hard, hair all over his face. His intense brown eyes locked with yours and you knew the dynamic was switched.

“On your back. Want to watch your face when I fuck you.”

You could relent, rolling onto your back, removing your soaked panties, chest heaving in anticipation as Jungkook got up, towering over you. His hands gripped your hips, adjusting you to the correct angle. You could play the other part, with one small caveat. His eyes found yours, glaring at you.

“Wipe that smirk off your face.”

“Make me.”

Jungkook thrust into you, hard, and you kept the smirk on your face as he forcefully stretched you out, pushing your limits.

“Hurts?” he taunted.

You licked your lips. “It’s not good unless it hurts.”

The slight irritation that flashed in his eyes spurred you on. You tightened around his cock, exhaling with a hiss. Fitting him to you, bringing out the dominance in him. Jungkook gritted his teeth and slammed his hips into yours. You had the audacity to chuckle.

“Did you really want me that bad, Jungkook?” you teased. “Or were they only pretty words? Are you a tiger or just a cute little bunny?”

Jungkook snarled low in his chest.

Then he began to fuck you, lifting your legs onto his shoulders and pressing down, smacking your ass with his hips. The position made you tighter, gravity making him pound you harder, forcing you to feel all of him as drove his rock-hard cock into you. Your hands flew up, one pressed against the headboard, the other clutching a pillow for dear life, eyes squeezing shut at the fullness and harshness.

“A-ah, fuck, yes,” you gasped. “So fucking good…”

Jungkook brought his face close to yours, hitting you deeper and just as hard. “Where’s your smirk now? Can’t give me one when you’re being punished by this cock?”

Your heart jerked in your chest at his dirty words, becoming even wetter with the dangerous edge to his voice.

“Listen to you, fucking dripping down my thighs with how wet you are for me,” Jungkook hissed, inhaling sharply as you throbbed hard around him. He groaned, clenching his jaw. “Fuck, I can’t help myself, I just have to fuck you like an animal.”

You snickered dryly, jerking your hips up to meet his. Not saying anything, letting your pussy do the talking because you were so close to orgasm that you roughly massaged his entire length, throwing your head back and moaning as you came around him. The squelching sounds between your connected hips got louder, drenching the air with the scent of sex and lust.

Jungkook sank his teeth into his lower lip, grimacing. “Fucking unfair how good you feel,” he ground out, squeezing his eyes shut, ramming his hips into you, muscles in his arms and shoulders tense. “Can’t even last, fuck.”

He crashed his hips into yours and growled your name in his throat, cock smacking against your walls as he came, swelling the condom full. You whimpered in ecstasy, back arching, clenching around his cock.

“Yes, Jungkook, oh, yeeees…”

It wasn’t enough.

Neither of you had had enough.

Jungkook gripped the end of the condom and pulled out, hissing at the sensitivity as he took it off. You tossed him a spare towel from the nightstand drawer and he cleaned himself, gasping.

“Hands and knees.”

You rolled over, flinging the box of condoms at him, and he caught it, dark eyes glinting.

“Spread that pussy for me.”

You reached back and planted your hands on each ass cheek pulling your wet slit open. Jungkook hissed and you could hear skin on skin of him jacking himself off to get hard again. An idea popped into your head.

You flexed your vaginal muscles, opening and closing your hole for him.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You’re so damn sexy it’s illegal.”

You heard him get onto his knees. The sound of a condom being ripped open. His groan as he fitted the condom over his aching cock. His strong hands gripped your hips, the head rubbing against your entrance.

“Don’t know how long I can last,” he murmured. “I’m just going to go as hard and as fast as I can.”

“Do it, Jungkook,” you panted. “Make me feel you for days.”

He whimpered at your words and sank into you. Both of you moaning, your hands clutching the sheets, his fingertips bruising your skin, imprints of lust. Jungkook was pure, glorious power that threatened to overtake you, his cock throbbing and digging into your walls as he fucked you hard, muscular thighs slapping into yours. The poor bed could barely take it, but neither of you noticed, lost in the feeling of being filled and doing the filling.

His hand came down on your ass, a sharp, harsh sound that echoed off the walls and made your pussy clench. It barely hurt. You had felt worse before.

“You like that?” he panted.

“Fuck yes I do,” you gasped hotly. “Spank my ass, Jungkook.”

He did, thrusting into you and slapping you repeatedly, making your ass jiggle. You squeezed him each time, now rolling your hips back into him, arching your back as you came with a satisfied sigh. Your skin stung, your pussy was pulsating with abuse, and Jungkook’s cock hit all your deepest spots.

“Fuck, Jungkook, you’re so fucking good at fucking me,” you breathed, feeling him wind you up again.

He couldn’t even reply, only loudly moaning through the convulsions of your pussy radiating up and down his length. Good thing the walls were pretty soundproof, because it was a goddamn porno in the bedroom at the moment. It was obscenely lewd with the wet slapping of his hips into yours.

“So close, so close, squeeze me, fuck, choke my damn dick,” Jungkook rambled in between breaths, hissing as you did as you were told, gripping him every time he slammed into you. He came with a half-scream, half-moan of your name, whining at the sensitivity as you pulsed around him, leaking down his thighs and yours. It smelled so strongly of sex that you weren’t sure how you were supposed to clean this up before Yoongi came home.

Your phone buzzed loudly on the bed.

You grunted, clawing for it as Jungkook remained inside you, softening but refusing to leave your warmth. He wrapped his arms around you, burying his face into your back.

You checked your messages. From Yoongi.

Your gift needs to get his ass to practice before he gets yelled at.

“Jungkook, you’re gonna be late.”

He groaned in annoyance, squeezing you tighter. Another message popped up.

Tell him there’s plenty of time before I fully recover. If he works hard and does a good job, maybe after I recover too.

You poked Jungkook. He lifted his head, pouting, eyes changing to excitement when he read the message.

part ii “You’re not allowed to leave until your noona is satisfied.”

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #bts smut #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you

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mono-dot-jpeg · 3 years

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the antarctic idiots [pt. 2] - c!technoblade

summary; in which two anarchist piglins adopt an ender boy.

genre; child! ranboo, piglin hybrid! reader, slight canon divergence from dream smp, fluff, found family au is my shit, reader is now ranboo’s parent i don’t make the rules, techno is a grumpy father but it’s okay you love him, realistic minecraft? (idk how to describe it-)

pairing; c! technoblade x reader, platonic! ranboo x reader

word count; 1.3k

< previous - next >

a/n; yall here me out, i open my ask box to have you guys talk to the characters of the antarctic idiots,,, i just really wanna act in character, i love doing that kind of stuff kshdskjdf

i don’t completely know how it would work, but, i wanna do it someday maybe.

also, if you’re too lazy to look at my masterlist for this series or you just wanna see everything related to this story, use the #antarctic idiots tag! and if you have anything to share with me about it, tag me!

“i’ll take your word on that, y/n.”

“you should trust my words from the start, wilbur.” you commented, your voice light and teasing. “but i don’t blame you, you lost a lot after l’manburg’s citizens betrayed you.”

“they did not betray me.”

“yes, yes, my bad.” you hummed.

“are we allies or enemies, y/n?”

“ally, enemy? i say neither. i was forced into this after all. what with that favor of yours.” you pointed out, he couldn’t even be mad at your response, he knew that you never wanted to be put in a war like this. “i may be part of pogtopia but my intentions are not the same. i will be clear that i’m only here to fight and then i will be taking my leave after this revolution.”

“yes, of course, understood.”

“now, just because we’re friends doesn’t mean i’m gonna train you with the easy stuff. you used to a president, soot, show me what you can really do. you’re stronger than you let on.”

“i don’t expect anything less from you.”

“come on wilbur, you fought in a war, you should’ve been at least a bit stronger.” you muttered to the man before handing his some wraps to bandage his small wounds.

“i put up quite the fight though didn’t i?” he commented, starting to fix up his injuries.

“yeah, you did. you’ve certainly changed since the last time we fought.”

“techno has taught me quite a lot.”

“how do you know techno?” you asked curiously.

“he’s my older brother, twin. actually.” you blinked. “yeah i know, we’re not really alike.”

“yeah, you’re a boar hybrid and he’s a piglin hybrid...”

“our mom is a samsung refrigerator, we don’t understand anything of how we existed.”

“fair enough..” you don’t question wilbur’s origins anymore, soon turning the conversation, “so you and techno grew up together?”

“yeah, we trained a lot together and now he’s a total master at fighting, but that’s thanks to our father.” wilbur smiled a bit, thinking about the old times. “maybe you guys should try and train together next time.”

“i don’t think we will anytime soon. he seems rather busy with gathering resources.” you said, sitting next to wilbur as you put your pendant back on your shirt. “plus if he’s so well versed, i don’t think he’ll need any help from me. anyways, plans, what’s the plan for this whole revolution?”

“well, we plan accordingly to what info we get from tubbo. he’s shlatt’s righthand man now so he’s gonna know a lot of info which will help us out. techno and you are gonna train me and tommy of course. you guys are our wild card. our trump card. both of you are so powerful. we can take back what was ours.” wilbur looked at you, this confident glint shined in his eyes. “we will take back l’manburg.”

oh how you wished you felt the same way about l’manburg as he did.

another day passes as you live in the ravine that was pogtopia. you got accustomed to the small area rather easily. it didn’t feel too different from your own home other than maybe the cold temperatures despite how much glowstone or torches would be placed around to keep it warm.

wilbur and tommy were busy for some odd reason, so that left you and technoblade. you weren’t the best with meeting new people and techno seemed like he was the same way, so you didn’t bother making conversation. it wasn’t until techno actually decided to speak.

“how can i trust you?”

“bold question to ask. what ever happened to, hi, how are you?” you joked a bit. “how can i trust you?” you looked at the fellow piglin hybrid who seemed to already start a staring contest with you.

“i asked first.”

“i asked second.”

“do you know who i am?”

“you are technoblade, are you not?” a beat of silence. “if you aren’t, i won’t hesitate to kill you.”

“i’m technoblade, yes, but do you know what else i am?”

“a piglin hybrid?”

“i’m the blood god.”

“interesting.” another beat of silence. you didn’t seem to show any reaction to his words which makes him wonder. were you just hiding your judgement or did you just didn’t care? “is that why wilbur and tommy recruited you for help?”

“in a way, yes.”

“so if i were to say that they’re using you as a weapon, would i be wrong? i mean i’m just saying stuff right now. it seems like you’re really capable of doing a lot of things, technoblade.” you suddenly feel his hand against your neck. “ah- i hit a nerve. my bad.” you hummed as if you weren’t close to getting choked to death.

“don’t talk about my family like that. they would never use me.”

“so, tommy is your sibling too? didn’t see that one coming, although it seems like i didn’t really see any of this coming.” you shrugged. techno was silent, his piercing red eyes burned into your e/c ones, he was trying to analyze you. you could tell he wanted to know more, he was curious. he was cautious of you. “i’m here to finish a favor, so it would be very nice if you do not take any of my lives.”

“i don’t trust you.”

“well, glad we could get straight to the point. i’m not really one for trust either so it’s nice to know that you feel the same way. again, i don’t really wanna be here, but again, here for a favor, i intend to keep that favor done.”

the voices in his head were buzzing, many said blood for the blood god, some said much less helpful words, a few suggested to get to know you but all of them said to not trust you. and techno listened to the few. he moved his hand back slowly.

“who are you exactly?”

“well, as wilbur said before, i’m y/n. a piglin hybrid just like you. though, i’m pretty sure i lived in the nether much longer than you have. i live far away from the smp and l’manburg...well, manburg now. my intentions are questionable. but that’s nothing to worry about since they don’t involve you.” you explained casually. “i’m here to also train wilbur and tommy, unfortunately i have to fight in this revolution as well. who are you exactly?”

techno raised an eyebrow at your question.

“to be fair, you got to know about me, now let me know about you, piggie.” he huffs, air escaping his nose as he listens to your words. “at least we’re not killing each other. would you prefer that?”

“i’m more of a action over words person. though words can be very convincing.”

“so is that a yes or no?”

“my name is technoblade as you know from wilbur and tommy. i’m not really from the smp or manburg. i recently joined this area after ruling over antartica.” he can see your eyes sparkle a bit in amusement. “i’m just here to destroy government honestly. my intentions are very clear unlike yours.”

“that is very true, mr. blade. you seem to have your beliefs and intentions very clear. i do understand your need to end government. i can relate to that rather well surprisingly.”

“i feel like the whole hating government thing might just be a piglin thing.” he looked at you with slightly furrowed eyebrows. “though i’m rather pleased to find someone that thinks the same way as i do.”

“see if you didn’t tell me about you, then we would’ve never found out that we both hate government. anyways, i would love to know more about you ruling antartica. then maybe you wanna try and train together?”

“you’re asking for a lot.”

“come on, mr. blade.” your voice teasing as you sit next to techno. i’ll give you some fun stories about wilbur and tommy.”

“you’re not gonna give up, are you?”

“i’m a stubborn person, what can i say?”

taglist; @justahostaccount, @olyink, @aikochan4859, @classycookiebailiffstudent, @stickk-bugg, @goldensunshineshit, @sadlyitsme-boohoo, @jace-the-ace12, @2cuteforyourlies, @lvlyjuro, @kiinokochii, @anxiousnarwhale, @jaciahbabes

[taglist closed for now]

#antarctic idiots #mcyt+x+reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #techno mcyt #technoblade x reader #c!techno #sbi family dynamic #sbi x reader #mcyt technoblade #dream smp x reader #dream smp fanfiction #dream smp #dream smp techno #dream smp technoblade

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ghostofbambifanfiction · 3 years

Text

Part 1 of ?????

Started writing this fic a while ago and then lost faith in it. Should I continue? Feel bad for not posting much lately so I thought I'd share this. Read on and weigh in.

COME OUT TONIGHT

You don't have to fucking shout?

Said the pot to the kettle?

Oh you grandmother The caps were an accidental by-product of voice-to-text Blame Siri if you're going to blame anyone

You have a Samsung Galaxy S20.

HAD. It got smashed. Worst luck. Listen, come out with me tonight.

Urghhhhhhhhhhhhhh I'm tired!

https://www.boots.com/wellness/vitaminsandsupplements/vitamins-supplements-shop-by-ingredient/echinacea

Hah (indifferent)

Just come out with me! Isaac has to go see some godawful student performance of the Antigone in wherever the fuck Chichester is and it's Sirius's flatmate's birthday party so I have to go and I don't know any of his weird mates

You don't HAVE to go.

Have to/want to Semantics

I'm not in a birthday party mood. I'm having a stressful week. My arse has been tense since Tuesday.

I will wade into the deep and massage your arse if I have to, just come It's a swank pad in Belgravia! I bet they'll have all sorts of expensive nibbles!

I read that as expensive nipples.

Those too!

Partying it up with the children of wealthy Tories. Sounds super fun.

Just come out with me, for fuck I'll pick you up at 7 and we can steal their silverware if it's boring as the grave

URGH I'll go but I'm NOT dressing up!

You don't have to dress up!

FINE!

take the drawings down please i'm begging you i'm actually begging you

Nah mate

siriusssssssss pleeeeeease

Nah

PLEASE

Nah

PLEASE ffs it's MY birthday!!!! there are going to be PEOPLE there! standing around! AT EYE LEVEL

I don't see what the problem is.

EVERYONE will see what the problem is! they literally will not be able to IGNORE what the problem is!

Sounds like a recipe for lively discussion to me tbh

that is NOT what i want people talking about at my birthday!

If I take them down, I'll have to take all the nails out and that'll leave nail marks all over the walls. It would be unsightly.

MORE UNSIGHTLY THAN YOUR DICK, SIRIUS?

My dick is bewitching.

DIE

She walks in expecting to find herself the infiltrator of a Made in Chelsea/Royal Ascot/Henley Regatta netherworld, filled with a gaggle of giggling, SW-postcode socialites wielding suspiciously powder-edged Harrods Amex cards in the place of horses and boats, but that's not what actually greets her on the other side of the lacquered front door.

What greets her is really quite ordinary.

Aside from the naked drawings of Kingsley's mate, which aren't.

Otherwise, the whole affair is pretty relaxed. People her age are clustered in their small groups, swigging beers. There's a table of oven-heated party foods, salty snacks and rapidly depleting ramekins of guac. She spies more band shirts than there are dress shirts. There's a round of Fortnite in full swing on the TV.

It's all just...startlingly normal. A normal birthday party.

And that's sort of embarrassing, really.

Where are all the visible Tory toffs, she wonders? Where is the braying laughter? The Eton alumni reunion? The glimpse of hunting-happy tweed and shotgun barrels as a coat cupboard door swings shut? Where's the indelible air of sneering superiority, of "we're richer and more privileged and better than you, so fuck the NHS and death to foxes!" that she'd been expecting? There's a fucking Henry Hoover in the corner of the hall, for Christ's sake. Lily came here to smile through her teeth at them all, to listen to the champagne problems privilege that bubbled from their lips and tell herself that she was the one who knew better, who thought better. Her plain white tee and skinny jeans and scuff-toed, high-top trainers were supposed to be a statement, a subtle setting-apart, but she's not even the most underdressed person in the room.

She pre-judged a house full of people. What's that about?

There's a lesson to be found in this. Perhaps.

James covered all of the dicks in Paw Patrol stickers that he bought from the newsagent on his way home from his mum's, but Sirius peeled them all off while he was taking a soothing lavender bath, so what's the bloody point in birthdays anyway?

It's early in the evening, and he's wedged—against his will—between the dining room bar and Shane Ruttle, who has just pointed at one of the many lamentable dicks and asked, "Is this one of yours?" which James kind of wants to thump him for. It's bad enough that he looks like a madman who stuffed his house with naked drawings of his brother, now people are actually assuming that he drew the damn things, even though most of the compositions are appallingly far beneath his skill level. He's a professional illustrator, for the love of god, and Shane is really standing before him like the posturing prick he is, asking him if he's the one who drew Sirius with one arm disproportionately longer than the other.

He knows that he should cheer up.

It is his birthday. There is cake.

Good cake, too, not the kind that gets buried in too-thick fondant that he has to pick off before he can eat what's underneath.

The problem is, there's also a party, and his friends are his friends, Peter and Sirius included, and Peter and Sirius can both get drunk much faster than James can. When Peter and Sirius get drunk, serious injuries tend to follow, Remus tends to fuck off in a flash and James tends to be the one who calls for an ambulance or mothers them back to health—physical, mental or otherwise. He has just turned twenty-six, and these repeated, drunkenly dramatic medical emergency scenes are starting to wear a little thin.

Can't a man get comfortably drunk and have a laugh at his own birthday party?

No, he can't, because Peter's already halfway to trashed, wobbling unsteadily towards the French doors that lead to the terrace, wearing that look on his face that says I'm definitely going to vomit or maybe even shit myself like I did on that one night we all spent in Munich with the Belgian handball team and the creepy tour guide who couldn't keep his sleazy hands to himself. For the sake of sparing the lawn such a punishment, James hastily removes himself from Shane, grabs Peter by the collar, shoves him in the direction of the downstairs loo and retreats to the safety of the living room, where there are, at least, no naked drawings of Sirius gracing the walls.

Most of the people in here are transfixed by Saffy Stephens, who is down to the last three in her Fortnite game and cursing like a sailor, but there are a small pile of birthday cards on the end table where James and Sirius normally keep their keys. He perches on the sofa arm, sets his half-drunk beer bottle on the carpet, pushes his dark, disheveled hair away from his forehead and begins leafing through them. It's a necessity when one lives with Sirius, who thinks nothing of swiping gift cards when the mood strikes him and he's had enough to drink.

They're mostly from his female friends, and all pretty standard, until he reaches the middle of the pile and finds a card bearing a picture of a moustached tabby and the caption: Have a Purr-fect Birthday!

The inscription inside is written in a lovely, swirling hand.

To Jasper/Jack/Jason/maybe Ja Rule?/J-something idk

(see above: everything I've learned about you from the friend* I came here with, verbatim)

(*who can't remember your name)

Happy Birthday! Thank you for (not) specifically inviting me, a stranger, to your party to celebrate this momentous event in your life. Please enjoy this festive card/social nicety/convention from me to you. My friend brought rum which you may prefer.

I'll be around. Not that you'll know.

James lowers the card and twists on the sofa arm at once, eyes darting around the room in search of its author, as if they might be laying in wait to watch him read it and see how he reacts. Nobody appears to have ducked behind the couch, however, so the situation merits further scrutiny.

Obviously, he needs to meet this person.

A mystery! At his birthday party!

He perks right up after that.

She's coming out of the downstairs loo when a short, blonde man in a garish Hawaiian shirt barrels past her and pukes all over the chequerboard tiled floor, narrowly missing her jeans.

"Oh no," he moans into his wet hands. "Oh no—"

"There there, mate," says Lily consolingly, never one to judge somebody for getting drunk early at a party. She pats him on the back before squeezing past him and rejoining Kingsley, who is standing in one of this meandering Georgian house's many hallways, chatting to a bloke in a houndstooth sweater vest and holding two glasses of something very, very sparkly that she must try at once.

"It's like...it's like everything and nothing at the same time," Houndstooth Bloke is saying when Lily draws close, gesturing to a huge canvas painting of a rain-soaked fairground at night.

"Is it?" Kingsley asks.

"Mmm. Very." Houndstooth shakes his shoulders like he's slipping out of a robe. "Meant to be esoteric, I suppose."

That sounds suspiciously like pretentious bullshit to Lily, who doesn't find the concept of a merry looking fairground all that difficult to absorb. Kingsley knows more about the art world than she does, but he must agree with her assessment because he grunts and shoves her glass into her hand when she stops beside him, and more roughly than she deserves, as if she's the one who landed him in this mess of a conversation to begin with.

Trust him to find himself stuck with the only dick (not etched by a 4B Steadtler graphite pencil) in the building, and trust her to be stuck with the person who got himself stuck with King.

"What are we talking about?" she asks brightly, just to fuck with him.

"Drink your champagne, there's a good little hen," King mutters, his teeth clenched together, hallway lights bouncing off the smoothly waxed dome of his bald head.

"We've been discussing this piece." Houndstooth nods to the painting, but his limpid eyes narrow on Lily's face. "Christ, you're very redheaded, aren't you?"

It's decided. She'll wait 'til Houndstooth is drunk and trip him up with Henry Hoover's hose.

"Ergo soulless, yes," she agrees.

"And you...enjoy that?" he asks, as if being redheaded is her profession.

"Very much, thanks."

"Hmmp. Well. I came here with Saffron," he announces, pronouncing it Sef-ron. As if Lily is supposed to know who that is. "Platonically, of course. Actually, we're some sort of cousins, I think. What do you think the artist is trying to convey?"

He's very pointedly asking her, so Lily blinks at the painting, her eyes on the outstretched arm of a child on the carousel.

"I like the pretty colours," she decides aloud.

"Right," says Houndstooth, "but that's not—"

"And the lights, too. The lights are really pretty."

"But—"

"I love funfairs, actually," she brightly continues, finding a strange satisfaction in playing dumb in front of Houndstooth and his overbleached fade. Although she does really like the colours. "Haven't been to one in years!"

"Yes, good, whatever, but what is the artist trying to convey?"

"What artist?" comes a voice from behind them.

Lily glances over her shoulder and finds herself looking up at the man whose penis she's spent the past thirty minutes avoiding eye contact with, though he is taller, better proportioned and infinitely more beautiful than any of those crudely drawn depictions could possibly convey. He is also beplumed and bejewelled like a pirate, wearing a sumptuous velvet jacket over a loose white shirt, numerous rings on his fingers and an assortment of silver chains around his slender neck, while his grey eyes and elegantly high-set cheekbones are framed by a tumble of black hair that genuinely looks like silk.

The man is so beautiful, in fact, that Lily immediately wonders why he's been taking sketches home from the life drawing class that he and Kingsley pose for—hence their acquaintance and Lily's presence at this party—when nothing she's seen tonight has done him any justice.

Most happily, his penis is tucked safely out of sight.

"Alright, Sirius?" says King.

"Alright, Marvel?" Sirius claps a hand to the taller man's massive shoulder. Kingley's muscles bulge in a way that cannot be hidden by modern habiliments. "What are we talking about?"

"Not much." Houndstooth looks put out by the arrival of yet another person. "We were just mesmerised by this piece."

Lily refrains from gesturing to the painting with both hands and a "ta-dah!" choosing instead to sip her champagne.

It's very good champagne. Mmm. Yes.

"Oh, yeah, it's really something," Sirius agrees. He brushes past Kingsley and runs a finger over the illegible squiggle of a signature on the canvas. His nails are beautifully manicured. "Local guy, young up-and-comer. I assume you've heard of Algernon?" he asks Houndstooth, fixing him with a steely-eyed stare.

"Er, yes." Houndstooth's gaze slides from Sirius to the painting. "I know him."

Sirius's eyebrows lift. "Know him personally?"

"Well—"

"That's so weird, I heard he never speaks to people."

Houndstooth chews on the inside of his cheek, weighing up the challenge. "How…funny."

"Funny?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just, I know I've spoken to him before, and since you've bought his painting I assumed that you'd have—"

"That is funny, actually," Sirius interrupts, "because the artist is my brother, and Algernon is the name of his cat."

Kingsley has been tugging on his earring and almost rips it out of his ear as his body convulses, champagne spraying from his nostrils, while an alarming red flush sweeps across Houndstooth's face and he begins to sputter on his own self-importance. Sirius has clearly decided that he's done with all of that noise, however, because he turns back to Lily instead, looking her up and down with great and sudden interest.

"Who's this then?" he asks Kingsley, cocking his head to one side. "James's present?"

The champagne glass swings down and Lily fixes him with a deadpan stare. "Excuse me?"

Sirius slants a grin at Kingsley, a quick flash of teeth. "This one's queenly, isn't she?"

Kingsley wipes his nose with the back of his hand and laughs again. "Hardly."

"This is Primark, mate," Lily retorts, tugging on her t-shirt.

"Queenliness is a state of mind," says Sirius, "not a state of wardrobe."

"You had me marked down as a prostitute not ten seconds ago."

"Oh, that. I was only joking," he sighs, and grips her arm at the elbow, his long fingers cool against her skin. "But still, you're far too attractive to stand here talking to this clown. Come with me and I'll find you someone better."

James's friends are useless.

And drunk. Useless and drunk—or sort of drunk, in Saffy's case. Remus is certainly already pissed, but Remus is on meds so often that he drinks but once in a blue moon. One cocktail is usually enough to set him off, and he's been hard at the gin since he turned up with Peter at six.

"I don't know anyone with those initials," Saffy declares, once she has read, examined and even sniffed the birthday card for clues. "Except for Lisa Edelstein."

"Who's Lisa Edelstein?"

"Cuddy from House," says Remus, lowering the negroni from which he has been drinking deeply.

James pulls a face. "What the fuck is a Cuddy?"

"Oh, actually, it could mean le?" Remus suggests.

"Yes!" Saffy points at him like he might be onto something. "Like the French word for the?"

"Exactly, like—"

"It doesn't mean that!" James interrupts, unwilling to allow such profanity in his home. "That doesn't make sense, why would somebody sign their name as the?"

"Now you're asking me to explain how French people think?" says Saffy derisively, adjusting her bra strap beneath that burnt orange waistcoat she loves, the one that makes her look like she's directing a pornographic movie in the 70s when she pairs it with her tortoiseshell-framed aviators. It clashes wildly with her electric blue buzz-cut. "Am nooooo drunk enough for that."

"They could be one of those one word moniker pop stars, I suppose," Remus pipes up, smiling slyly. "You know, like Madonna?"

They think James doesn't realise that they're taking the piss out of him, but neither of them are sober enough to attempt their gambit with any kind of subtlety or grace.

"You know that's actually her real Christian name?" says Saffy.

Remus turns towards her with interest. "What, Madonna?"

"Yeah!"

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Saffy repeats. "I thought it couldn't possibly be her real name because, I mean, Madonna, yeah? But then I looked it up and apparently that's the name her mummy gave her, just goes to show—"

"I'm sorry," James interrupts, "but is Madonna relevant to this conversation?"

"Yes, always," says Saffy.

"She's an international pop megastar," Remus seconds.

James stares at his friend incredulously. "Drinking really chips away at your wit, y'know?"

"Does it?" Remus grins lazily and jiggles his cocktail in the air. "Oh, well, I'm negronly joking."

Saffy does a spit-take without the spit and clings helplessly to Remus's shoulder as she laughs, knees buckling, bangles tinkling, but James fights his own urge to start snickering.

"It's not that funny," he lies, and Remus eyes him with an alarmingly teacher-like shrewdness, despite the tellingly intoxicated flush that has crept into his thin, freckled face.

James's love of puns is tragically well known.

"You didn't get it." Remus points at his drink. His speech is starting to slur. "This is a negroni, what I said was—"

"Yeah, I got that part, I just—"

"Jesus fuck, look at her!" Saffy suddenly hisses, staggering sideways into Remus and sending him into the wall in a flurry of giggles—Remus giggling?—her voice hushed and urgent. "Who the hell is that?!"

James does look, following the direction of Saffy's gaze. Sirius has just entered the living room, casually clutching the elbow of a……

……goddess.

An actual. Like. Goddess.

A goddess. In James's house. In his living room. In the place where he eats his chocolate boulder cereal and rewatches Scrubs (even season 9, which is hilarious, and very unfairly disparaged by Joe Public) on Saturday mornings.

She's a goddess. A real one, and cleverly disguised as a mortal, sure, with her slouchy white t-shirt and her big hoop earrings and her light blue jeans that are torn at the knees, wearing her shoulder-length red hair half up, half down and slightly messy, but that doesn't hide what she is.

"Oh my god," he murmurs. His heart is pounding all of a sudden, which is so...utterly bloody stupid, but Saffy's right, bloody look at her, Jesus fuck.

"Surely she can't be with Sirius?" Saffy murmurs back.

"No, she—" He watches Sirius lean down to mutter something in the redhead's ear. A ghost of a laugh flits across her beautiful face. "She's not his—he isn't—"

"D'you think—"

"No, I—"

"Good," says Saffy firmly. She lets go of Remus and rises, lengthening her spine. It is a battle stance of some sort, presumably. "Because I saw her first."

"No!" James cries, wounded, and the redhead shoots him a curious look with a pair of eyes that are startlingly emerald green, even from all the bloody way over here. He spins to face Saffy and lowers his voice, face burning. "It's my house!"

"What are you arguing here, ownership rights?"

"No but it—it's my birthday!" James retorts, jabbing at his own chest. "And, actually, and—"

"It's in the bloody post!"

"—you didn't get me a present!" he finishes in triumph, not that he knows what he's arguing for, because the likelihood is that his tongue will glue itself to the roof of his mouth if he even dares to look in her direction one more time. "Plus I set you up with Vanya Petrich, with whom, as I recall, you enjoyed four years—"

"Stop throwing that in my face!"

"—four blissful years—"

"Is it my fault that you've never fancied any girl I've set you up with?!"

"—promised me an Easter ham for setting you up with her and I never got it—"

"So now you'll trade a woman for a ham?" Saffy accuses, though her face is too lit up, her brown eyes too crinkled at the corners—she's having fun with this and she isn't going to fool him and she knows it. "That's so low, even—"

"Don't start with that," James scathingly cuts in. "You offered me Sean Connery's autograph for Bonnie Grogan's number—"

"Which you never gave me!"

"Because you forged the bloody signature!"

"And now she's bloody married!"

"Yeah, well, Isabella wouldn't give me a counterfeit present, would she?" he retorts, and Saffy lets her shoulders drop, smirking. "This is pointless, Saf, we can't—"

"She's just left with Sirius," Remus informs them, and burps.

#Jily #Part 1 #Of 3?#Honestly I just wanted to give you guys a treat

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etoileholland · 4 years

Text

I will make it up to you

@secretmongereaglegiant asked: Hey, I love reading all your Tom Holland imagines! Could you do one of the boys and Tom’s girlfriend y/n are stuck in quarantine but y/n and Harrison haven’t been getting along and it worries Tom.

Pairing: Tom x female reader

Warnings: angst, a sprinkling of bad words, fluff at the end.

Word count: 4.3k

A/N: My first request! Thank you so much for requesting this! I elaborated on it slightly, but I hope that you enjoy it and that I did it justice. As always, requests are open! And let me know if you want to be added to the tag list 💛

(the gif is not mine, all credit goes to its respective owner)

Although being quarantined wasn’t the best, it did have its perks. You were spending more time with Tom than you had in a long time, and it was nice to be able to catch up on movies and TV shows that you didn’t have time to watch earlier. You were also becoming closer with the boys, and they were becoming more like your little brothers than they were friends.

Except for one.

Even from the beginning, you and Harrison butted heads. You were cut from the same cloth, and it only became more amplified when you were stuck in the same home. It could also be attributed to the fact that it’s already been two months of quarantine, and everyone was starting to become stir crazy.

The squabbles started off small, but as time went on, they became worse.

“I can’t stand you, do you know that?” You scoffed as Harrison stood in the kitchen.

“Back at you princess, I can’t believe we’re stuck in the same home, it’s unbearable.”

“Well it wouldn’t be so unbearable if you actually washed the dishes or took out the trash, or I don’t know, stopped blasting music at 2am when everyone is trying to sleep!”

“I didn’t realise me playing music interrupted your 23 hour beauty sleep. You should shoot for 24 hours instead.” He smirked, and you felt as though you could strangle him.

You stood there for a moment, bringing your hands up in the air, before letting out a sigh.

“Okay I’m going to be the better person here and walk away. You can have the last word.” You made your way out of the kitchen calmly, and were met with Tom standing in the hallway.

“Whoa baby what happened? Why were you two fighting?” He asked as he pulled you into an embrace.

“He just doesn’t do anything useful, you know? I have no idea how you’ve been friends with him for this long.” You spoke against his chest, and he rubbed your back. He paused for a minute and didn’t say anything.

Seeing you two argue broke Tom’s heart, and he realised in that moment that this could be a bigger problem than he originally thought.

“He’s not so bad, darling. You could try to play nice with him for a change.” You scoffed, and Tom just laughed.

“Well he started it!” You whined like a child, and Tom just pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Doesn’t matter. Anyway, wanna go for a walk with me and Tessa?” He asked and you nodded, grabbing your coat.

—

The next week wasn’t much better. Another argument started when Tom suggested that everyone should watch ‘Knifes Out’ together.

“I don’t want to watch a film with her.” Harrison emphasized, “she talks way too much and gets excited and then you have to rewind it to hear what the actors said. It gets annoying after a while.” He huffed as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Yeah well at least I’m not a stoic statue of a person who has no emotions whatsoever.” You retorted, and Tom only sighed.

You got up from Tom’s lap and stood up. “I don’t even want to watch the movie, I’m gonna go upstairs and take a bath instead.” You said as Harrison just smiled.

“Thank god, I can’t stand her sometimes.” He tossed a piece of popcorn into his mouth as he pushed play on the film. Tom shot him a glance, and Harrison just shrugged his shoulders. “It’s not my fault you decided to date Y/N, or should I say, the devil in disguise.”

—

A few days later when Tom wanted to exercise with Harrison, you became really clingy with him and insisted that he cuddled with you instead.

“But baby I have to work out, you don’t want me getting all soft and flabby do you?” Tom asked as you placed kisses all along his jaw.

“But I want to cuddle.” You whined as you kissed Tom down his neck. He moaned as he pulled you closer into his lap so that your chest was flush against his. You knew exactly what you were doing, but you just wanted him all to yourself. Also, you were doing it out of spite for Harrison.

“Fine darling you win, I’ll cuddle with you.” You let out a small squeal as you placed a kiss on his lips, before nuzzling your face into his neck.

A few minutes later Harrison knocked on yours and Tom’s bedroom door to see what was taking him so long. He opened the door to see you and Tom cuddling, and he gave Harrison a sympathetic glance.

“Sorry mate, Y/N wants to cuddle right now but I promise I’ll workout with you tomorrow. Isn’t that right angel, you’ll let me workout tomorrow?” He cooed as you nodded your head. Just then, you looked up grinning at Harrison, shooting him a look as if to say “I won.”

Harrison huffed as he walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

—

Tom felt really torn when hanging out with the both of you. You were his girlfriend and Harrison was his best friend, but you two didn’t get along well at all. It pained him to see that you two couldn’t stand each other for more than five minutes. And he felt guilty when he would spend more time with you than Harrison, and vice versa. It never seemed that he could please you both, but he was determined to make it work.

He was worried that the worst was yet to come, but he didn’t anticipate how quickly it would come.

—

As promised, Tom went to workout with Harrison the next day, but you weren’t keen on the idea of not spending time with Tom.

“C’mon Haz, am I not allowed to watch my strong boyfriend work out?” You cooed as you squeezed Tom’s bicep.

“You can, maybe you can even help with my workout, darling.” Tom said as you clapped. Harrison was glaring at you, and you shot him an innocent look back.

“You don’t even need her help! What is she gonna do, help you lift weights or something?” He threw his hands up, already exasperated.

“I don’t know, she can be here for support, isn’t that right angel?” Tom asked as you kissed his shoulder.

“Exactly.” You grinned as Harrison snarled at you.

You were always lurking around, practically hanging off of Tom, and it infuriated Harrison. He just wanted to spend some time with his mate but you were always vying for Tom’s attention as well.

And one day, Harrison set you off completely, and it was almost irreconcilable.

—

“You fucking idiot! I wish I could just go back home and not look at your god awful face every morning!” You chucked his phone at his face, and he barely dodged it. It smacked against the wall, leaving a dent, but his phone was in perfect condition.

Harrison picked up his phone and inspected it before stuffing it in his pocket. “Good thing I have an Samsung, there’s not one crack in it.” He smirked and let out a small laugh. “Unlike your iPhone that fell off the table and shattered into a million pieces.”

“My phone didn’t ‘fall off the table’-” you gestured, making air quotes with your hands, “it was shoved off the table by a certain someone who thought it would be funny to see how durable my case was. It fell outside on the concrete, of course it would fucking break!” You let out a laugh as you became more furious.

“Well then, you should’ve had a better case.” Harrison smirked. He was having far too much fun annoying you, and he began to laugh when he saw how visibly angry you were becoming.

“I swear I could murder you right now.” You sneered, and Harrison only laughed. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re just a conceited asshole, who’s so vain that you have to have constant validation from literal strangers on the internet to make yourself feel better?” You took a deep breath, pausing before you continued. “But the truth is, if the fans actually knew you like I do, they would be repulsed by how unbearable you truly are.” You crossed your arms as Harrison’s smirk dropped and was replaced with a clenched jaw.

You two stood there in silence, and you were starting to become slightly afraid of the man standing in front of you. Sure he was only a bit taller than you, but the look in his eyes screamed ‘revenge’.

“You know what, Y/N? I literally have had enough of your shit as well. Tom thinks that you are a literal angel, but the truth is that you are the most high maintenance, manipulative and complainy bitch in the world. Trust me, I can see why fans are constantly sending you hate and saying that you don’t deserve Tom, because it’s true. You’re just vile.” He emphasized the last word, and he froze as he saw Tom standing there, jaw clenched.

“What the fuck is wrong with you two?” You looked over and saw Tom holding in tears. “Listen, I love you both equally. Harrison, you’re like my brother, and Y/N, I’m madly in love with you. But right now I can’t stand either one of you. The two people I love more than anything in the world can’t get along, and god it breaks my heart.” He sniffled as he wiped away a tear. You took a step towards him but he took a step back.

“I’m pissed off, and I don’t want to do something, or say something that I know I’ll regret. So until you two can get along, I want the both of you to leave me alone. Y/N you can sleep on the couch tonight.” He said coldly as he took another step back.

“Tom.” You pleaded, but he held a finger up.

“I am this close-” he held up two fingers and pinched them together, “to breaking up with you. Don’t say one more word. And you-” he pointed to Harrison, “are getting on my nerves so much that I’m tempted to pack your things and kick you out. I don’t care that there’s a plague going on, I am so furious that I would kick you out in a heartbeat. Why the fuck can’t you two get along?” He stormed out of the room and went into his bedroom, slamming the door shut.

You and Harrison stood there in silence, shocked at what just happened. After a minute, Harrison spoke.

“Shit, we’ve really fucked up now. He never gets this mad at people, and when he does, that means he’s at the end of his rope.” Harrison muttered as you began to cry. “Even if we can’t stand each other, we have a mutual love for Tom. And right now, he’s ready to get rid of the both of us if we continue to argue.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Half the time, our arguing is pointless anyway. How did this even start?” You wiped a tear away from your cheek and Harrison just shrugged.

“Honestly, I have no clue. I think it may be because we’re kinda similar in a lot of ways.”

“Maybe, we’re both slightly passive aggressive.”

“And we’re both competitive.” Harrison replied

“And we’re always vying for Tom’s attention. Does that make us jealous?” You asked, and Harrison nodded.

“I’ve always been jealous, it’s a bad habit of mine.”

“Me too.” You replied as you took a seat at the kitchen island. Harrison pulled a beer out of the fridge. He proceeded to open it and leaned against the counter, taking a long drink.

“You know, maybe we could put our differences aside for Tom. We’re both very important people in his life, and why would we toss all that aside just because we’re arguing? You asked as you massaged your temples. “Can you grab a beer for me please?”

“Since when do you drink? You’re always nagging us to stop drinking because it’s bad for our health.” Harrison replied.

“Yeah well I think the situation calls for it, now gimme.” You made grabby hands as he walked over and handed you the drink. You took a sip and grimaced. “God this stuff is terrible! How can you even drink this?” You scrunched your nose up as you slid the drink over. “I need a chaser, asap.”

Harrison laughed as he reached into the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Coca Cola for you. He popped the lid off and set it down in front of you.

“Thank you.” You took a sip and smacked your lips together. “Now this is better.” You both laughed, and for the first time in a while, you were actually enjoying his company.

“I have an idea.” You stated, which caused Harrison to look up at you. He raised his eyebrow as took another sip of his beer, finishing it before reaching for yours.

“Oh no, what is it?” He asked as you grinned.

“Why don’t we do something really nice for Tom so that he can see that we work together well, and so he’ll forgive us really quickly because I already miss him.”

“Okay, let’s show Tom that we can be friendly so that he won’t kick us out of here!” Harrison walked over and you two high fived.

“So what’s the plan?” You asked as you took another sip of your soda. Harrison pulled up the chair next to you and sat down, contemplating on what to do next.

“I don’t know, maybe we can make him a cake that says ‘sorry for being ass-hats’.” He laughed as you sat there thinking about it.

“Let’s do it.” You clapped your hands together and stood up from the chair.

“You can’t be serious, really?” Harrison asked as you began to rummage around the cupboard for baking ingredients.

“Why not? What have we got to lose? And besides, it would show that we can put our disdain aside and collaborate on something. Can you grab the sugar for me please? I’m too short to reach it.”

Harrison laughed as he walked over and grabbed the bag of sugar for you. “Okay if I remember correctly, Tom loves chocolate cake. Or was it red velvet cake that he likes? Hm I’m not sure, anyway let’s make him whatever kind of cake that we can, with the ingredients we have lying around.” You nodded as you grabbed the well loved cookbook from the counter and flipped through it.

“What do we have in the cupboards? Can you please check love?” You asked Harrison as he let out a small laugh.

“Oh now we’re calling each other pet names? Look at us being amicable, princess.” He added as you let out a laugh.

After a few minutes of searching, you realised you had nothing good to throw into a cake.

“Well, so much for that.” Harrison tossed his apron on the counter, but you had an idea.

“We have an egg, graham crackers and some chocolate, right?” You asked and Harrison nodded.

“Good, I can make a French Silk pie real quick. it’s almost so good that it might make Tom forget how much he’s mad at us.”

And the pie was almost that good. Harrison even surprised the household by preparing dinner. He had made tortellini and garlic bread for everyone, and you had helped with dessert.

“Wow, what happened? And why are you two not killing each other?” Sam asked as he hesitantly took a seat at the table. Harry soon followed as he let out a gasp. “You didn’t kill Tom, did you? Is that why we haven’t seen him all day?” He asked as you and Harrison both shook your head no.

“Well, you see, Tom is mad at the both of us because we can’t get along.”

“He’s ready to break up with Y/N and kick me out of the house.” Harrison added.

“That is true, he did say that. But we’re hoping that he’ll forgive us, and see that Harrison and I are now friends.” He looked at you and nodded, and Sam and Harry just sat there in silence.

“Right, well good luck with that. I don’t think he can be won over that easy.” Sam added as Harry nodded.

Tuwaine came in and took a seat at the table as well. “Oh yeah I heard your argument, it was rough.” He said as he took a bite of the garlic bread. “Damn that’s good.” He said as he took another bite.

Tom came down from his room and stormed past you both so he could grab a glass of water. His face was puffy, and his eyes were swollen and red. You could tell that he had been crying, and it broke your heart that you couldn’t console him. You were the reason he was crying.

“Hey, um Harrison and I cooked for you. We made tortellini, garlic bread, and pie for dessert.” You spoke quietly, as if not to anger him anymore.

“That’s true, we make a good team.” Harrison added as he put his arm around you. Tom stood there expressionless, and just nodded.

“Cool, thanks.” He grabbed a plate and dished himself up. He stormed past you again, making his way back into his room and locking the door. Harry, Sam and Tuwaine all looked at you, pausing, before continuing to eat their dinner.

“Sam, I think you may be right. He’s gonna he mad at us for a long time.”

—

Later that night, after you and Harrison washed the dishes, you tried to get into Tom’s room. You remembered that he said you could sleep on the couch tonight, but you didn’t really think he meant it.

“Tommy, it’s late. Can you open the door so I can go to bed?” You asked through the door, and you heard some shuffling inside the room. Tom cracked the door open and threw some clothes at you, and swiftly closed and locked the door. “I meant it when I said you would be sleeping on the couch tonight.” He replied coldly.

You began to cry as you realised the extent of the situation, and how he was showing no sign of changing his mind. You picked up the clothes and made your way into the living room. It was nearly midnight and everyone else was in their rooms, so you got changed in the living room and crawled onto the couch. You sobbed loudly, letting out little hiccups as you cried some more. A few minutes later Harrison came out of his bedroom, pillow and blanket in hand.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up with my crying.” You sobbed as you rubbed your eyes.

“You didn’t, I mean I could hear you, but that’s not why I came in here. I wanted to say I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for Tom to be so mad at you, and I didn’t think he was really willing to break up with you over our feud.” He handed you the blanket and pillow, and you set them on the couch. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier, I think I was just mad that you were always wanting to spend time with him. You do make him really happy though, when you’re not around he constantly gushes about you.” He looked down and you motioned for him to sit next to you on the couch.

“I’m sorry too, I also didn’t mean anything I said earlier. I think I was just jealous of you spending time with him; it felt like you were taking him away from me. And it’s been hard since I can’t go back home, you know. It’s hard not being around family, and I forget that Tom and the boys are your family. I guess I haven’t really handled this whole situation well, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” You sniffed. Harrison handed you the tissue box and you smiled.

“I’m sorry Y/N for being a jerk.”

“And I’m sorry for being a bitch.” You added.

“You’re not, you’re really good for him.”

“You too.”

You scooted closer to Harrison and put your head on his shoulder. He stroked your hair and placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“Friends?” He asked as he extended his hand out.

“Friends.” You said as you shook his hand, signifying that your feud was over.

“Would you want to watch a movie?” Harrison asked as you moved your head so that you could look at him.

“I thought you hated watching movies with me. I talk too much and get too excited.” You said as he frowned.

“I didn’t mean that either, you’re just really passionate about things and I envy that about you.” He added and you grabbed his hand. You gave it a little squeeze before letting go.

“And I envy that you’re not dramatic.” You let out a laugh, and Harrison joined in. He positioned himself so that he was laying on the couch, and his head was on your lap. You were stroking his head and playing with his hair.

“How about you pick the movie, princess.” He whispered as you grabbed the remote.

“Is Tangled okay, love?” You whispered back and he only nodded.

“Of course.”

A few minutes into the film, you both were starting to get sleepy. You crawled next to him so that you were both laying on the couch next to each other. He put his arm around your waist, and you covered both you and him with the blanket. Before you knew it, you were both sound asleep.

Tom woke up at 3am, and nearly had a panic attack when he realised you weren’t sleeping next to him.

Oh that’s right, I’m mad at my girlfriend and best friend. He thought to himself. His head was pounding from all the crying, and he knew that he was dehydrated. Slowly, he got up, holding a hand to his forehead as he went to get a glass of water from the kitchen.

He walked past the living room, but stopped in his tracks when he saw you and Harrison curled up next to each other on the couch. You two looked peaceful, and Harrison’s lips were curled into a little smile.

He let out a small smile, and a tear escaped his eye. This was the first time that you two had gotten along, and the sight of it made him cry. He tried to contain his crying but he couldn’t, the tears were steaming down his face. He let out a small sob, and he tried his best to not wake you.

You had woken up to see Tom standing there, sobbing. You looked over at Harrison, who was also stirring.

“Oh shit.” You said under your breath. Harrison immediately untangled himself from you as you both sat up. You were expecting Tom to be mad and accuse you of cheating, but instead he only shook his head.

“So, you two really do get along now.” He said as he wiped a tear away. You handed him a tissue and he took it, blowing his nose before tossing it in the garbage.

“Yeah, Y/N and I are friends now. We pushed our differences aside and realised that the other person isn’t so bad.” You both looked at each other and smiled, and looked back at Tom.

“Tommy I’m sorry for being terrible and for not getting along with Harrison.”

“I’m sorry for not getting along with Y/N, she’s lovely and I’m happy she’s your girlfriend.”

“I’m happy he’s your best friend.” You added as Harrison kissed you on the top of the head.

“And I’m sorry for threatening to break up with you, and also saying that I would kick you out. I didn’t mean it at all, and I’m sorry.” Tom let out a hiccup as he wiped a tear away. “Do you forgive me?” He whispered as you all nodded. Tom held out his arms as you and Harrison both went to give him a hug. After a minute and some more crying, you all pulled away. Tom then grabbed onto your waist and pulled you into a long kiss.

“I love you Y/N, so much. I can’t spend any more time without you.” He sobbed as you put your arms around his neck and pressed your lips to his.

“Will you sleep with me, please? I miss you.” He whispered and you replied “Of course.” He picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his torso.

“Harrison, I love you mate.” Tom said, still carrying you as you placed kisses along his jaw.

“I love you too mate, now go get some sleep.” He replied as Tom led you into his bedroom.

—

After this, you and Harrison were nearly inseparable.

“Okay so I was thinking, you could join me on my jog today and then you could teach me some yoga.” Harrison stated as you were all having breakfast. You took a sip of your coffee and nodded. You two were sitting next to each other, with your shoulders touching.

“And after that, we can watch Fleabag together.” You added as he nodded excitedly.

“Oh! We can’t forget about working on that puzzle.”

“And you still have to buy me a new phone, you did shatter mine.” You added as you both laughed.

“With a better case, of course.” He said as you lightly elbowed him in the side.

“Oh, definitely.” You laughed, as Harrison looked over at you and grinned.

Tom sat across from you both as you made plans for the whole day, and a smile crept onto his face.

“Can I join in?” He asked as you and Harrison both glanced at him.

“Hmm, nope, sorry mate. She’s all mine now.” Harrison said, leaning his head on your shoulder as Tom pouted.

“Something tells me I’m going to be the third wheel from now on.” Tom remarked as everyone at the table broke out in laughter.

——

Mes petits anges (taglist): @starkissedholland @scarletxwidow @fangirlwithasweettooth

#soft boyfriend Tom #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland blurb #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfics #tom holland x female reader #tom holland and you #tom holland and y/n #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland writing #mine #text #tom holland headcanon #tom holland one shot

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fluorescencefuture · 3 years

Text

Hwayugi / A Korean Odyssey Episode 3 Thoughts

Overall Feelings About the Show So Far

Good god, why did they put so many effects without the budget for them

This is the worst Wukong outfit design I have ever seen

Why is every episode 1 hour 30 minutes I mean episiode 1 and 2 could've totally been one episode just saying

Not really feeling the chemistry yet

K-dramas use Vine boom sound effects and I cannot take anything seriously because of that

I’m saying it now, I hate the soundtrack

I use Samsung phones so I feel a visceral reaction every time I hear the ringtones in K-dramas. That Morning Glory alarm will forever haunt me

The Main Leads

Wukong couldn't just blow on blood to get rid of it in the original but it's not out of character for him or the novel to pull a bullshit power out of nowhere so I’m cool with it. He can also magically control traffic now, which I accept as canon

I don't like Samjang that much. I feel like they haven't quite struck the balance between headstrong and put together with bewildered and scared of the magical realm. I mean the latter is really accurate to Sanzang in the book but Sanzang in the book is horrible so

Is it the actress? I really don't vibe with the character of Samjang but looking at it again I feel like the script are totally fine. I think it might actually just be a miscast actress, or odd direction

Ehh, the double tsundere thing isn't really working as well as it did in What's Wrong with Secretary Kim, the other K-drama I half-watched

Honestly I wish they went the A Chinese Odyssey route and used White Bone Demon or Original Character Do Not Steal for Wukong's love interest because a version of Sanzang is too obvious of a choice for me and also this one’s kinda boring

Guanyin would totally have a version of the headband that inflicts emotional pain ahah. Making someone fall in love with you by using a device (like a love potion or gadget) is a trope I find egh but it's a little less awful here since Samjang didn't know it would do that and Wukong still has some free will

Rejecting his love gives him physical pain, wonderful. And hey, they've got that part right, the only wounds that actually hurt Wukong are emotional ones. And also Red Boy's fire

The Supporting Cast

I honestly really love Mr. Lee, the employee guy. He doesn’t deserve to be caught up in this.

"Even someone as boring as dogs and cows can become a celebrity?" he says unknowingly to the dog and cow demons

Demon Bull King is kind of overacted at times but he can be funny too

"Sha Wujing tweeted that Bull Demon King found Samjang" oh my god, he got destroyed by Twitter

That "time travel doppleganger" photo, I love that. And the dog demon secretary pointing at the fluffy doggo and going "hey it me!"

Oh shit, imperial Japanese flag, we in the occupation?! And the lady who got shot in front of him was Princess Iron Fan? Holy shit, that's one hell of a backstory for Demon Bull King

Bro, he loves his wife :'(

So DBK's plan was to hire Samjang to make Wukong do exorcisms and he would take the credit? That's...brained. Not small-brained or big-brained, just brained.

Hey look, it's the OG trio all together. ...It doesn't feel the same

Okay even if Bajie is too attractive he's still the same old Bajie inside so it's all good. DBK calls him out on being a coward, ahah. I also love that Bajie's still delusional over his power level compared to Wukong

Little Things I Liked

Wukong dropping off a monkey plush for her to hang out with when she's alone, that's fantastic. "This is Sun Wukong Jr. If he makes you cringe, please take this bracelet off me."

Wukong points out that he lived on a volcano island and actually though, is that why Wukong liked the snowfall so much in that one arc of the book? It never crossed my mind that being from a rather tropical region, he'd of course be a little sensitive to winter cold and amazed by snowfall in general

Wukong parks like a douche which is totally in character since he'd just walk into places and tie the horse up without any permission

"I don't have to take my heart out and show you right?" He can actually physically do that by the way

Wukong stocked the fridge full of Tupperwares of sauces and side dishes for when he eats Samjang I love that

What is that wand thing he's wielding? Is that what the staff is in Korean interpretations?

How are you still cold you bitch you're wearing that ugly ass fur coat all the time

Y'know, it is pretty nice to see a modern Journey to the West that focuses on exorcising more modern type ghosts and demons, I mean that'd be Wukong's best job in modern time

Turns around in bed, Wukong lying in a "paint me like your French girls" pose, he goes "Hey", I should steal that and turn it into a gag comic ahah

In this episode Wukong goes “Damn bitch, you live like this?” and “Alone on a Saturday night? God, you’re pathetic”

Demon Bull King implying that Stephen Chow and Angelina Jolie are demons

Who's this peacock demon?! There's no peacocks in Journey to the West! But for real heh, an Indian animal, keep referencing the original book please

That episode had more shit going on than the previous two, thank god for that cause the last two did NOT need three hours. I mean, this one's still too long but at least shit's happening.

#Hwayugi #A Korean Odyssey #Journey to the West #hwayugi liveblog #Fluor speaks

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calypsoff · 3 years

Text

Eighty Five.

Meetings after meetings, studio after studio. New York is busy for me to say the least, and now I am onto meeting number three and this is with Jay Brown, he wants an update on the plan of action. Before we leave tonight to go back to California where I pretty much take my sound engineer and team with me to California to finish my album off, like this whole thing with Chris has inspired me a lot, I think the songs that are coming from me are going to be songs that people love, I have been testing different genres and I think I am pushing myself for this album but it’s hard, I have my private life on show too, I have people that need me. Meaning my daughter, I have a lot on and then building my own team, Fenty Corp, now I was thinking of getting Chris on board until he annoyed my life with his stupidity but it’s a lot, I could have done with him helping me with this. I am building an empire for my daughter, for my family. I rise, so does all my family. I want my kids, kids, kids to be rich and it starts with me but I will deal, I will get on with it and deal. I want to build my empire, this is something I’ve always wanted to do so I am excited but I need to get this album out “Miss Fenty, Jay Brown is ready to see you” breaking my daydream there, Jen and I both got up from the seat “you have been so quiet” Jen said at the side of me “planning my next move, doesn’t help when my voice is going so I am trying to be quiet” I chuckled “oh yeah, I mean it should just disappear, just have the break today and then tomorrow, by then you will feel better” nodding my head as I made my way inside the meeting room “Rihanna!” Jay Brown spat with his arms open, walking into the hug “long time boo” wrapping my arm behind his back “where is the mini Rihanna?” He said looking around me, I chuckled “she is plotting on her next milk feed, she is with her father” moving back from the hug and made my way around the table “oh he’s taking care of her? In a cast” he added “yeah, Rorrey is with him. She’s only Five months, not like she can walk away from him” he’s not incapable of taking care of her.

The meeting is underway and honestly my mind is drifting, drifting back to the meeting and then to my future, to my life but I am just thinking how Chris had to get hurt in this, I didn’t want that. It’s been a few days and I haven’t really spoken to him or even Rorrey until I said pick up Rylee to take care of her “for the album rollout we are thinking of going in partnership with Samsung and do a little fun thing for the fans but I also want to add we need you to use their phones too for a while, but we want to do something for the fans so they are involved” nodding my head “that is fine, I am here for all that and I am doing this album for my fans, this is who I am doing it for and they deserve it. I want to make sure I do the most for them, are we announcing the tour straight away after the release?” Jay nodded his head “indeed we are, and then of course after all that it will be your own personal ventures until you are ready to do another” all I can think about is missing out on my daughter “I wanted to ask actually, what happened to Chris?” I knew that was coming “erm, he had a fight. With Drake” I added, I came out with it, I am not holding back on it because he is a snake “Drake? He hasn’t said anything about it” Jay looks taken a back “because he is in the wrong, he used my husband. Manipulated him, Chris is new to this game, he’s come out of Jail, not knowing what things happened between him and I, I assumed he was just being friends with him, genuine. But then it escalated to the point where he was making out I am some Hollywood whore, kept feeding him shit, Chris is none the wiser because he thinks this nigga is being a friend to him, that Drake cares when he doesn’t, I’ve had enough and it ended up being an argument and it was like he was a good guy when he wasn’t so yeah it all blew up, and that happens” Jay is in shock, he wasn’t expecting that “that is so sly, this is over you?” I snorted laughing “shocking right” he waved me off laughing “it’s dramatic but not shocking, he’s had a thing for you, you just didn’t see it for him” he got that right, Drake is not my type at all “tell Chris he needs to be careful out there, nobody is really your friend in the business” Jay said and he is right.

Left the meeting feeling positive to say the least, stressed a little but we move on “busy, busy, busy. You’re actually going to take the world by storm, I am so excited for you” I cooed out “thank you Jen” I mumbled “you seem a little deflated though, how come?” Taking in a deep breath “a lot has gone on, I think before I even start my album rollout I would hope my private life is dealt with, it’s hard when it’s left in the balance and I’m having to hear how he is through Rorrey, I don’t ring, and he doesn’t ring me and I think it could be more because of him feeling bad about what happened you know? But I just want my marriage to be secure, I want to know when I go on tour that he’s ok, I really want to take Rylee with me, she’s my daughter and I want her to be close but also want to know my marriage is ok. Just worried, it’s ok I’m here building this when my marriage is falling. It’s a lot, I feel like a hypocrite too at times” Jen is so understanding, she is married herself “marriage is hard Robyn, I think what happened with Chris would have happened. He’s new to the game, he needs to learn and understand. He will grow and you both will be fine, why are you worried?” Turning to Jen “with Fenty Corp. I wanted him to overlook my business, I wanted him to be that person because I trust him, but I feel I don’t, and it’s annoying me. I didn’t want him to be just my husband, I wanted him to be clothing brand owner and also Vice President of Fenty. I wanted that but he trips up and I’m like I can’t have this? I wouldn’t have it with anyone else, I just don’t know” I have a lot of decisions to make, and he doesn’t understand that “like I need a decision now? You know, who is my team, that is it really. It’s just a mess” waving my hand.

Placing my bag on the countertop “oh and what are you doing back?” I said seeing Rorrey on my couch “I came to back of my stuff, Chris said come. I have done anyways, so erm, not to sound awkward but is Chris coming with us?” Rorrey laughed “oh and that is Chris’ dirty clothes” Jahleel sniggered “right, erm yes. He will be coming; I haven’t really spoken to you since. How is he?” making my way to the couch “good, I mean we have just been playing the console all day really, but he is good company, just watching movies after movies, so yeah. He is good, I think he is a little stressed because he can’t do anything” looking around the room “my daughter?” I asked “with her dad” pulling a face “right, go back and help him stupid. Just tell him to come with you, with my daughter thank you too. She better be fed too” he is so dumb “they were asleep, I just text him” the nigga has a cast on so of course he needs help and here he is, legs up “I am going back, don’t worry” Rorrey mumbled “I will see you all the jet then” sitting down on the couch, I am just thinking so hard on everything, I need to make that decision before I leave who will be doing what for my company, and my step forward was Chris being in it. By the time my album and tour is done, this will be ready and waiting for me, my baby.

“Spill, you’re thinking” Mel said, my people all gathered around “my team, who I want with me for this journey. Mel you said you want to break away, you want to do your own thing. Ciarra will chief creatively officer, Melissa is going to be my design director and Philippa creative director. Chris was going to be my vice, but I don’t know” I mumbled “Jahleel, don’t give me that face I barely know you” he gasped “right, I didn’t know that was your plan but go with your heart” Mel said “the same guy that royally fucks up every time, I just. I am scared and worried because he does it a lot, you know?” Jen is thinking, I can tell “what is it? Speak to me Jen” she has something on mind “how about Chris and I do it together, he messed up then I am the safety net?” furrowing my eyebrows “this is a big deal, I am talking a big scale. I can’t have half assed shit with him, but what do you mean? You’re with me? I got Tina to help you” I said “I need to step back from that, I need something where I can work from home, less travelling also. My other half and I are trying for a baby, and I need to be home more” letting out an oh “so I am asking, because you are the boss. I don’t want to leave you; I want to be around you forever. I love you so much, all of you but if I need to have an interview for this then I will but if you want me to do it alongside Chris, I can be a silent person on side” licking my top lip “well with Chris he isn’t getting paid for it, he is my husband. We will prosper together, but. Mhmm” I said thinking “no, I will make you Vice, Chris will be the silent person. Maybe he will be annoyed with that, it’s unfair to hide a title from you. That is it, you are president, and he is vice, that is how we will need to do it, it has to be. This is where you two can work, I am going to keep it as that” I am actually upset about Jen.

I don’t want to seem selfish, but Jen is actually leaving me, and I am so sad, I will discuss it on the jet, once it sets off. We are waiting for Chris, Rorrey and my daughter. They are taking a while, but I think it’s more to do with Chris, trying to get him in and out and stuff. Now his leg is in a cast, I hope my brother is staying behind because if he isn’t then I will have to go back home because I can’t leave Chris alone, he won’t do well alone “they are here, let me go and help them. More to get my daughter then anything” I chuckled, I have dealt with Chris when he has a cast on, he isn’t the best person, he whines about everything “just going to get my daughter” I said to the attendant, she is waiting around like us. Making my way down the steps, Rorrey is of course the first person to be out “hey, how is my daughter” Rorrey is laughing, he hugged me “please tell what is funny?” he shook his head “nothing, she is on my side. She is awake, I am going to help Chris get out, maybe carry him up they jet” he better not laugh too much, Chris will refuse to go anywhere “Miss Fenty” my driver said, going around the car “oh baby” looking up and seeing Chris, he is just looking at me with low eyes, but he looked away “come on baby, you my big baby” Rorrey is very annoying, especially to a stubborn men like him now.

My brother and Chris are stupid, that is all I can say. They did more falling then anything but least he got him on the jet “everyone say back to California!” Jahleel spat “I don’t want my picture taken” Chris said because Jah is taking the selfie in front, so everyone is in it “don’t be moody?” Jah said, “I don’t want it nigga now move” frowning at Chris “Chris!” I spat “just come here Jah, leave him out of it” Jahleel kissed his teeth, Mel eyeballed me but what the hell she want me to do with that “ok look at the camera everyone” smiling as Jahleel took the picture, leaning down and pressing kiss to the top of Rylee’ head “he was rude to Jahleel” Mel said to me in a whisper “I am not his carer but I know what his problem is, or maybe I don’t but I will speak to him, maybe it’s that. I didn’t speak to him when I got Rylee out of the SUV” Mel shrugged “let me take the princess and you go and deal with that” nodding my head as Mel took Rylee from me, getting up from the seat “sit down in my seat” I said to Jah “I didn’t say anything to him” he said defending himself “I know, it’s fine just sit” making my way over to Chris “this seat free” I pointed at the empty seat across from him “yeah” Chris breathed out pointing too.

Chewing on my bottom lip, we are both quiet with each other. I honestly know why I am quiet but him, I don’t know really because he is supposed to make the effort, but I will “how you feeling with your leg?” Chris looked up from his hands “erm, it was hurt at first but it’s ok. The bruises on my side hurt more than anything, it is what it is, what can I say about this. It’s happened, my fault” he is very agitated “you need to relax, like you don’t even know Jahleel and you are snapping on him” this is bringing me back so many memories of when he was housebound and he was ever so moody about everything “if something annoys me, I am going to say it. Are you coming home?” he asked but I only know one answer “I won’t be no, I am staying with Mel and you are going to ask why but I don’t want to live with a man that thinks I was a liar, missed out on our anniversary, our first one as a married couple, first Christmas too. You can be mad all you want but you did. The effort you made because you was busy wanting to believe him, you don’t deserve me Chris. Even now, just taking care of you. Let me know when you want to see your daughter but you right, I am not coming home” getting up from the seat, he ruined these moments for and now wants me to come home because it’s all out in the open, the issue still stands. He believed another man over me.

#chrianna fanfiction #chrianna #chrianna ff #chriannaff #fanfiction #fanfic

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aforrestofstuff · 4 years

Note

What's the heroes' morning routine to start their day before going to work? Or their night routine before they're going to sleep? (And here is sprinkle of positivity vibes for you today: 😊😉👌💕💞💗💓💝💝💖💖🌟✨🍀🍀🍀🍀💐💐 Have a nice day! ❤)

Thanks for the request, anon! ❤️❤️ sorry this took me so long to get to, hope you’re still around!

Tornado of Terror: I’ve said in a previous hc that she sleep-levitates and wakes up in the weirdest places. So, she’d probably spend 10 straight minutes prying herself out of her bathtub or some shit with hella cramps. After that, she’d spam Fubuki over text message, asking her how to make a cup of coffee for the 57th time, then manage to burn it anyway, and finally go to work salty as fuck.

Silverfang: Wakes up at the crack of dawn, mediates next to a waterfall or some shit, broods over Garou, and makes himself a nice breakfast with a cup of tea. After that, he drags Charanko’s ass up the mountain to do some training, meditate some more, drink more tea, and around then it’s gonna be like 9 AM, so he’d probably just go the fuck back to sleep for a quick nap before actually going to work. Look, he’s old. Let him vibe.

Atomic Samurai: Also wakes the fuck up at the crack of dawn and proceeds to freeload a breakfast off of Iaian, wash it down with some alcohol at 6 in the AM, and complain about the weather. Then, he’d probably run over some sorta training routine with his disciples before doing group meditation and finally, finish it off with another drink. His tolerance is so damn high at this point. He shows up to work while pretending he wasn’t ten seconds away from getting wasted that morning.

Child Emperor: Wakes up rather early (if he even slept at all), runs diagnostics on all of his machinery, does tests on his latest weapons, takes 7 decontamination showers, and then makes himself a hearty breakfast consisting of Froot Loops and choccy milk. He shows up to work early and energized, running solely on his 87th lollipop and the single shot of espresso he had that morning. If it’s a weekday, he’d wait off on going to Association headquarters and teach a few classes at the local university instead. He’d then go to work in the middle of the day, grading papers and dying internally at the dumb shit his students say. He keeps a mental tally of how many people forget to write their names on their assignments. He’s suffering.

Metal Knight: Upon slapping the shit out of his alarm clock, he rolls out of bed and commands one of his bitchbots to make a Michelin-Star quality breakfast for him, then proceeds to stalk to the bathroom. He doesn’t shave or shower. He just takes a 45-minute shit because he’s forced himself to go to the bathroom once a day to “save time” when it, in fact, does not save time. After that, he takes a decontamination shower before entering his lab (also another 45 minutes because he’d spend the whole time je— nevermind) and doesn’t show up to work at all because he’s a little bitchboy hellbent on building Skynet in his mom’s basement.

King: Wakes up, cries, plays video games, cries some more, eats some cereal, takes a shower, cries, calls Saitama over, plays video games, Saitama leaves, cries. Then, he’ll show up to work for a single meeting at 4 PM just so everyone knows he isn’t dead, have an anxiety attack, go home, and then cry (while having another anxiety attack). After that, he’ll play video games until 3 AM. Rinse and repeat.

Zombieman: He’ll wake up at 3 AM and then sarcastically open his blinds like “oh wow, what a beautiful morning”. He’ll make himself a hearty breakfast consisting of leftovers, some protein pills, and half a pack of cigarettes. Next, he’ll shower, shave, and do some routine vigilante detective work out in the town before coming back home just as the sun is beginning to rise. After that, he’ll take a thirty second nap and walk his ass to work (because his car has been in the shop for like, seven years) so he can vibe for 3 hours before throwing in the towel and isolating himself for the remainder 18 hours of the day because depression.

Drive Knight: he sleeps plugged into the wall like a Samsung. Either that, or he’s solar-powered.... or maybe he runs on AAAs. I don’t know, but his ass ain’t waking up like everyone else. He’d power on, do some routine checkups on his laboratory or whatever the fuck he’s got going on, and then show up to work for 3 seconds only to dip the fuck back out and go poach some endangered monster species for his collection or some shit. Look, he’s a robot.

Pig God: wakes up at 10 AM like a king and eats a small breakfast consisting of three rotisserie chickens, a whole pot of rice, 57 eggs, and a cool glass of milk (because calcium is important, kids). He’d spend 4 hours on the internet before he gets hungry and decides to go outside, stopping to casually devour an entire species of demon-threat monsters in the middle of the street while simultaneously traumatizing every single child living in a 3-mile radius in the process of doing so. After that, he’d do some hero work for like 30 minutes (and somehow eat like, 200 living things in that timeframe), go back home, and then indulge himself in a 17-hour food coma. He’s earned it.

Superalloy Darkshine: Homie wakes up at 5 AM, works out for two hours, takes a shower, and eats a breakfast big enough to feed a small family of 19. After terrorizing every health expert in the country with his buckwild diet (ironic considering Pig God exists), he hits up his bro Tanktop Master for another 2-hour workout. He then proceeds to take 3 seconds getting dressed in his hero uniform because it’s literally just a thong, and goes to work for a full 8 hours because he’s a good boi who takes his job seriously and genuinely wants to make the world a better place. :)

Watchdog Man: wakes up, pisses on a fire hydrant, eats dog kibble, sits on his pedestal in city Q, and then gets dressed.

Flashy Flash: wakes up in a forest somewhere because he’s probably homeless. The local birds flock around him and sing a morning song. He feeds a baby deer like a Disney princess. Then, he bathes in a waterfall and spends two hours doing his hair. After that, he buys himself a fucking bagel and takes his ass to work smelling like the inside of a Cabella’s. He vibes at HQ for like, 30 minutes, before traveling 500 miles away on his 57th quest for revenge and ends up breaking a record for “most homicides committed by a hero” on the way there.

Genos: wakes up, makes breakfast for Saitama, takes a shower, and spends half an hour doing chores while Saitama bums around with a yolk stain on his pajamas. Then, he’d hit up the professor for any news about upgrades, and go on about his day handing out justice as he sees fit until Saitama suddenly gets the urge to go buy some cabbage. It’ll be another 2 hours of walking around the inside of a grocery store while holding 2 grams of food (because it’s all Saitama could afford, broke ass) before he actually goes to hero HQ for a single meeting (while Saitama tags along), and then slaughter 87 monsters on his way home.

Metal Bat: wakes up at 6 AM because it takes him 8 years to do his hair. He’d wake up Zenko about an hour later and tell her to get ready for school while he hauls ass downstairs to make breakfast (burnt toast and 8 Flinstone vitamins). They walk to Zenko’s school together. He takes ten minutes to shower her with love, and then he turns back around to walk to his own school only to show up like, 45-minutes late to his first class. He only attends hero meetings on weekends because A. Homework and B. He doesn’t give enough of a shit to juggle official hero business and school in the same day (unless it consists of a monster/criminal [or 12] in need of a beating).

Tanktop Master: same as Superalloy. He wakes up at dawn, works out, eats enough to feed a small army, and then calls his actual army over for a meeting. He and the gang discuss ways to better represent the Tanktop ideology over tea, while also sharing workout tips and just having a good time together in general. Around then it’ll probably be 8 or 9 AM, so he’d join Superalloy at Hero HQ and do hero work for the rest of the day alongside his homies. He’s living the life, honestly.

Puri-Puri Prisoner: he’s in prison so he’d wake up at 8 AM on the clock every day, eat his nasty-ass breakfast (although, I’ve said in a previous headcanon that he gets special meals prepared for him on account of being a literal superhero, but I digress), and then he works out in the courtyard for a good hour before going to work in the cafeteria for 3 bucks a day (or the yen equivalent). During visiting hours, he and his boyfriend are inseparable. They’d make some crafts together, gossip, and just hang out. If there’s a threat in the area, Puri will waste no time busting himself out and hugging that shit to death. A true icon.

Amai Mask: he either wakes up at 10 AM or 2 PM every day, there’s no in-between. He’d spend his morning doing every self-care routine under the sun: taking a warm bath, doing a face mask, eating a good breakfast (prepared by his own personal chef, of course), listening to an audio book, you name it. If he has a concert that night, he’d spend the entire day surrounded by people as he gets ready/rehearses/prepares. If not, he’ll just patrol the streets, handing out autographs and some slices of justice. He wouldn’t really show up to any meetings or do official hero business at HQ unless he’s in the mood to cuss out Sekingar and Sitch over some stupid shit or insert himself in S-Class business.

Iaian: wakes up earlier than any of the other disciples and Atomic Samurai because he’s like, responsible or whatever. He meditates, showers, does his own personal routine, and then kicks everyone out of bed for breakfast like an angry suburban mom. After that, he’d participate in everyone’s routine training, and then take his ass to work while showing up to every meeting at HQ (sometimes tagging along with Kami) because he’s a good boi and he has no problem engaging in business. :)

Okamaitachi: She sometimes wakes up with Iaian, but sleeps in most of the time because she needs her beauty rest, obviously. After breakfast and participating in everyone’s training routine, she’d do her hair/makeup and go do her own hero work the majority of the time. She’d sometimes tag along with Iaian, but she prefers to go on her own every so often. If she has some extra time before breakfast, she’ll also do a face mask or catch up on her favorite soap operas.

Bushidrill: this motherfucker sleeps like a log and Iaian wants to kill him for it. He wakes up like, 2 seconds before breakfast and hasn’t shaven in a month. Still, somehow, he manages to get ready in time for training without Kami trying to assault him for being a doofus.

Fubuki: She wakes up hella early and texts her herd of hooligans the daily plan before dealing with Tatsumaki’s shit over the phone. Then, she showers, does her hair, and takes fifteen minutes to get her makeup done right. It doesn’t take her long to plan out her outfit because she has like, 87 black dresses. After an actual hearty breakfast (unlike the rest of these clowns) that she makes herself, she meets up with the blizzard group to discuss business and engage in hero work together as a ✨team✨. She never gets asked to participate in official business by HQ because Tatsumaki strictly forbids it.

Saitama: he brushes his hair and sits on his ass all day.

Mumen Rider: wakes up at dawn, feeds the cats outside, eats a good-ass breakfast (despite being poor, because he’s actually really good at budgeting), and goes out for a nice, morning patrol. He’ll also call his mom and make sure she’s having a good time because that’s important. If it’s not a busy day, he’ll go to the gym and treat himself to some time at the park afterwards. If there’s monsters all about, he’ll spend the rest of the day in the hospital after getting his shit rocked for the 300th time that week. They’ve basically got a bed reserved for him at this point. He’s so pure but so, so selfless. And a little dumb. But mostly selfless.

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

didn’t know me.

pairing. jhs x reader. rating. general! we are family friendly. tags. this is just... cute. there’s a bit of swearing, teasing, mentions of beer, etc. but nothing bad. wc. 2k. beta reader. my beloved @hobi-gif and my wofe @periminkle! 💖

You’ve always been one to take the things you want, pursuing them with a ferocity your mother calls intense. You have no qualms about decorum or bashfulness. To you, if you’re not the first - you’re the last.

You’d done it all your life. First, in kindergarten, when you’d taken the orange blocks because they were your favourite colour. Then, in high school when you’d tried out for three varsity teams and made it onto all of them. More recently, at work, where you’d demanded (read: gently requested) a raise after you’d consistently been covering for your less-than-reliable manager.

If you wanted something, you went for it. There was seldom anything that could stop you - including your soft-spoken best friend.

“I’m gonna do it.”

It being asking the cute guy waiting in line for his number. It being embarrassing your poor best friend who’s got her face hidden behind your shoulder, soft blonde bangs brushing your cheek as she shakes her head in a poor attempt to deter you.

“Don’t make it weird,” she whispers into the collar of your coat, denim rough against your neck.

“You’re the one making it weird!” The hiss is quiet, gentle. More coaxing than reprimand or displeasure. This is a usual occurrence for the two of you.

Whereas you were relentless, unrepentant - rays of sunlight on the hottest day of summer - she was the softest breeze, barely a ruffle of leaves. You complemented and completed each other and had for the better part of your lives. Exactly why you’d opted to take this trip with her and only her; she was the one person who didn’t drive you absolutely insane after a certain number of days together. She filled all the empty spaces of your puzzle, rather than smothered you with her own shape.

Still, you sometimes had disagreements. Now was one of those times.

“What if he doesn’t speak English?”

She’s being far too realistic, of course, in her patented Ivy way. You have to admit - she has a point. The likelihood of this random stranger even understanding you is slim but you figure it doesn’t hurt to ask. When in Rome Okinawa, right?

“Then I’ll use Google translate,” you retort around a mouthful of laughter, the sound buzzing around your teeth. You’d think they’d stung her by how Ivy recoils, grimacing at you in the same instance you advance a step. “Wish me luck!”

She doesn’t. You don’t care.

A hand reaches out, two fingers poised.

And then he - the cute fellow customer with jet black hair and expensive sneakers on - faces you, but not because you’ve spoken. He turns because his companion has caught his attention, jerking his platinum blond head toward you. At least, you think it’s blond. You really can’t tell with how his bucket hat is pulled so low over his ears, the bottom half of his face obscured by a plain black mask.

The words die on your tongue, suddenly stolen by the sheer beauty of cute guy’s face. He’s disarmingly handsome, with high cheekbones and a perfectly upturned nose. His mouth splits - heart-shaped around bright white teeth - and you can’t help the little tumble your heart takes when he smiles. It brushes itself off before falling all over again, nearly launching itself out of your chest and at his feet.

“Hi?” There’s something lyrical about his voice, like summertime and riding in the car with the windows down. It’s also accented - peculiar in a way that’s strangely familiar. You can’t quite place it.

“Hi!” You all but chirp, probably with the dumbest look on your face. You hope your smile offsets it. “Could I have your number?”

Sunshine - because that’s his nickname for now and it feels terribly fitting - blinks at you, head tilting in a way you can only describe as adorable.

“My number?” It’s an echo, in less of a what the fuck way and more of a did-I-hear-you-right way.

You nod once, twice, a hopeful laugh rolling off your tongue. It slots into the spaces between you and settles, strangely nervous. You’re not used to the anxiety that’s thrumming through your veins and causing a ruckus in your ears.

There’s just something about him.

“Yeah, your number?” As if to illustrate your point better, you raise your phone and wave it about, tapping against the back of your fluorescent pink case. “To text you?”

Realisation dawns, passing in pretty rays over his face. “Oh!” For a moment, he seems ready to give it, every inch of his expression wide open.

Then, all at once, it falls - blinds dropping across a window. He seems deep in thought, his gaze jumping to the blond that’s now made himself comfortable at a table a few feet away, back hunched and attention focused solely on the screen of his Samsung. Your stare follows, traipsing the narrow ridge of the other’s shoulders before swivelling back to the ball of light before you.

God, you can’t get over how good looking he is. It’s almost hard to look at him, yet somehow harder to look away.

“You want… my number?”

“If that’s okay,” you murmur, with your most disarming smile. You know it’s a solid effort - you’ve won parents and bosses over with it. Three years of braces had done you good.

He’s seemingly stuck, torn between giving into the strange girl in front of him and something else you have no idea about. You can practically feel Ivy burning a hole into the back of your skull with each moment that passes. She’s definitely going to hold this against you for at least an hour.

“I can have yours?” A sleek iPhone - no case, to your horror - is fished out of his pocket and offered to you. You can’t help but admire his hands, the way his knuckles wrap around the slim device. “I’ll take your, um, number?”

It’s not what you’d expected. Truthfully, a part of you wonders whether this means he’ll take it and never use it. You hope not.

“Sure,” you agree readily, nodding with a delight that feels a little much for a chance meeting in a random mochi donut shop. You try not to dwell on it as you enter your contact details, passing the phone back over with two hands. “Don’t forget to use it!” It’s meant to be flirtatious, friendly without being too forward. You’re unsure if it’s lost on him. You think it might be by how he beams at you, offering nothing in return.

“Gaja.”

The interruption breaks the stillness between you, spoken so quietly you almost miss it. It comes low and swift from the blond that’s joined Sunshine’s side, stealing his attention from you. You try to hide your disappointment, though it’s quickly replaced by wide-eyed wonder.

You don’t mean to stare - you probably look like a fish out of water - but realisation brings with it unflattering expressions. It’s a simple fact of life.

“Kamsahamnida.” Your Korean is rusty - clearly without practice and uncomfortable on your tongue. For not the first time, you wish you’d been more receptive to your parents’ insistence that you learn.

Surprise flips across Sunshine’s face, thrusting his eyebrows to disappear behind his fringe. Then he grins, so big and unreserved that it really is blinding - like staring directly into the sky on a day without clouds. He looks on the edge of speaking - as if all the words are balanced right behind his teeth, ready to spill out with the same abandon as his joy - before Blondie repeats himself, this time with more urgency.

You’re holding them up. Oh god.

With a swiftness usually reserved for the volleyball court, you sidestep, nearly knocking a lurking best friend over in your haste. Your head is bowed - a decidedly strange gesture for you - and you glance up through a curtain of swept bangs and thick lashes. “Mianhaeyo.” You want to say more but you’re fumbling, trying to find the words you’ve never taken the time to properly study. “I… um...”

There’s a hand in yours, squeezing in reassurance. Or maybe frustration. It isn’t always easy to tell with Ivy.

“It was nice to meet you” is what you settle on.

“You too,” Sunshine returns, far too kindly, with that same brilliant smile that has your jaw aching with the intensity of your own. He’s all but ushered out the door, though he turns at the last minute to wave - a sweet thing that makes you laugh. “I will call!”

Waiting isn’t something you do well. As evidenced by your go-getter attitude, your patience tends to run thin. You want things and you want them now - but it seems that isn’t in your cards. Shit hand, you think.

So you sit and you wait and well, you’re not really sitting and waiting. You’re still living your life and enjoying your vacation. You’ve been to the beach - there’s a neat underground tower Ivy had dragged you to that had you gaping at the fish swimming by at eye level - and you’ve had probably too much taco rice than is strictly speaking necessary.

But you haven’t been able to get him out of your head and it’s driving you more than a little crazy on the third day that you haven’t heard from him.

“Are you listening to me?” It’s Ivy, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed with two intricately woven bracelets held aloft. They’re both pretty and hardly discernible in their differences. One’s blue and the other is… a slightly darker shade of blue?

“Huh?” Your thoughts are a million miles away, focused solely on the memory of a certain Sunshine boy.

“Which one!” She’s exasperated, flailing her wrists just enough that one trinket whacks you right between the eyes. Okay, so you deserved that.

You’re rubbing at the red mark, turning away in the same instant you speak. “That one.”

“That one?”

“The one on the right!”

She grumbles something that sounds awfully like I hate you but you’re too busy checking your phone to really call her on it. No new messages, save for the three group chats you’re in that absolutely refuse to shut up. You don’t count those.

“A watched pot never boils,” she hums from somewhere behind you, before lapsing into stilted Japanese with the kindly old woman behind the counter.

You know she’s right but that doesn’t change a thing. You check your phone twelve more times between exiting the small jewellery shop and stepping into the karaoke bar. It’s not really that often, you tell yourself. Most millennials sit on their phones for hours! You’re a step above, truly.

Until Airi’s husband is grilling you, poking fun at the fact that you can’t seem to tear yourself away from the device in your hands.

“Don’t forget you’re out,” he teases around the rim of his beer, arm slung comfortably across his wife’s shoulders. “Live in the moment, y’know?”

If you weren’t so close - if they weren’t hosting you at their apartment for this leg of your trip - you’d probably ignore him. As it stands, he’s like an annoying older brother and receives a swift kick to his shin. You grin just as he grimaces, nearly spilling his glass of Sapporo all over his front.

“Hey— you brat!”

“Takes one to know one,” you retort, tongue out and mischief wrapped into every syllable. “Don’t know how you’re married. Didn’t think kids were allowed to.”

Across from you, Airi stifles a snicker and the rest of your group breaks into laughter. You’re in the middle of throwing middle fingers at Sunny when a hand clasps your forearm with an aggression you can’t ignore.

Ivy’s staring at you with eyes the size of saucers, mouth curled into a perfectly shaped ‘O’. A part of you wants to shove a limp fry into it - until you follow the line of her arm, the length of her finger.

Because on the screen - serenading your ragtag group of friends in the terrible voice of Airi’s little brother - is cute-guy-from-donuts. Sunshine.

What the hell?

tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound

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shochmonster · 4 years

Text

84 Questions

original: https://fuckyeahsurveys.tumblr.com/post/61049002526/84-questions

Put your music player of choice on shuffle and list the first 10 songs Guns of Brixton - The Clash Holiday in Cambodia - Dead Kennedys Chainsaw - Nick Jonas California - Joni Mitchell Make It Wit Chu - Queens of the Stone Age This Woman’s Work - Kate Bush The Bad Thing - Arctic Monkeys Between the Bars - Eliot Smith Drown - The Smashing Pumpkins Different People - No Doubt

If you could spend a week anywhere in the world, where would it be and why? Would you take anyone with you? I’d take @duoloopo to the UK. I’d like to see places other than London.

What is your preferred writing implement? (eg. Blue pen, pencil, green pen) I use my iPad stylus the most, but I have this heavy mechanical pencil I really like for drawing.

Favourite month and why? October. I just love the fall vibe.

Do you have connections to any celebrities (even minor)? List them. I went to undergraduate school with Rebecca Sugar. We used to ride the bus between NYC and DC together on holidays.

Name 3 items you could pick up from where you are. Can of seltzer, pencil case, stack of bills

What brand logo is closest to you currently? REAL Skateboards

Do you ever play board games or other non-computer games? Got any favourites? I love Small World and Munchkin.

A musical artist you love that isn’t well known Laura Stevenson and the Cans

A musical artist you love that is well known Red Hot Chili Peppers

What is your desktop background currently? Thomas Barrow on the beach in the Season 4 Christmas Special

Last person you talked to, and through what you talked to them @duomaxwell02 with my face :O

First colour name you can think of that isn’t in the rainbow White

What timekeeping devices are in the room you are currently in? Two wall clocks, though one is very old and doesn’t wind anymore. I also have a clock @duoloopo ‘s dad made for me. It’s on the piano.

What kind of headphones do you use? JBL Bluetooth, noise canceling

What musical artists have you seen perform live? Foo Fighters (3x), Incubus (3x), Red Hot Chili Peppers, Smashing Pumpkins, Beastie Boys, Audioslave, Justin Timberlake, Troy Sivan, Arctic Monkeys, The Rolling Stones, Eric Clapton, Queen (but with Roger Daughtry, not Freddy... for obvious reasons.). Probably a whole bunch of others I’m blanking on.

Does virginity matter to you? Not really.

What gaming consoles do you or your family own? PS4, PS2, PS1, XBox 360, N64, Gamecube, Wii, NES, SNES, various Gameboys, Nintendo DS, PSP

What pets do you have? What are their names? Two cats, Hemingway and Renji

What’s the best job you’ve ever had? I like freelance art gigs the best. As for ‘normal people jobs’, I once was a sign painter for Whole Foods. That was pretty fun, minus the work drama.

What’s the worst job you’ve ever had? Food service.

What magazines do you read, if any? I’ll pick up Time once in a while

Inspiration behind your URL? My classic original URL was LinkWorshiper and had been since AIM first existed. I picked it because Zelda was the first fandom I ever joined. Now I’ve changed all my handles (except on AO3) to reflect my actual name, as my literary agent thinks it’s more professional.

Inspiration behind your blog title? Mean Girls. I always chuckle imagining Thomas and Jimmy as some Edwardian version of the Plastics.

Favourite item of clothing? My Downton livery waistcoat. And the stiff bosomed shirt and collars I have to go with it.

Are you friends with any exes? Nah. By the time I felt comfortable enough to possibly try, I also didn’t care enough to.

Name at least one book you loved as a child. His Dark Materials (the trilogy by Philip Pullman). I still love them and am jazzed that he’s writing more these days.

What’s your native language? If that language has distinct regional variations, which variation? (eg. AU English, US English) US English, mostly a northeastern dialect/accent

What email service do you use? Gmail

Is there anything hanging on the walls of the room you are currently in? So much stuff. I have a mood board full of Downtons stuff over my desk, various DA posters and memorabilia, plus some artwork I’ve done, and some of my JC Leyendecker collection. The aforementioned wall clocks, a San Francisco cable car bell, Sailor Moon and a few other little knickknacks, like my hamsa. To name a few lol.

What’s your favourite number, and why? 212 because it’s Manhattan’s area code and also because it used to be the notation for one of my favorite ships in an old fandom.

Earliest moment in your life you can remember? Sitting under the table and looking at my grandma, who was wearing a Cruella Deville dress she’d knit herself. Like, it had the actual Disney character on it. Pretty cool to a little guy, I guess!

What did you have for dinner yesterday? Quesadilla

How often do you brush your teeth? Whenever they feel gross

What’s your favourite candy/chocolate? Lately, I’ve been into Junior Mints.

Have you had other blogs on Tumblr? Do you have any other blogs currently? This blog used to have my old handle, linkworshiper. I did a small Whole Foods blog when I worked with them, but it never went anywhere.

If you were suddenly really hungry, what would you choose to eat? Sushi

What fandoms would you consider yourself a part of? Downton Abbey, though lately I’ve been crazy busy and not as active as I once was. Casually still poking at old fandoms like Zelda and Gundam Wing to name a few.

If you could study anything, what would it be? More art education can’t hurt. Maybe some formal history education.

Do you use anything on your lips? (eg. Chapstick, gloss, balm, lipstick) Chapstick

How would you describe your sense of humour? Seinfeld

What things annoy you more than anything else? Mouth noises

What kind of position are you in at the moment? Sitting

Do you wear much jewellery? Nope

Who is the leader of your country, currently? Any other levels of government with leaders? (State, region, province, county, district, municipality, etc) Three supposedly equal branches of government, currently being run into the ground by a clown

Last 3 blogs on your dashboard, not including any of your own @halcyondaze @mab1905 @lavender-hued-melancholy

What do you carry your money in? I try to never carry cash, but I carry a small wallet

Do you enjoy driving? Why or why not? I like it but sometimes it feels like a chore, especially during a commute. @duoloopo thinks I’m a shit driver so she tries to drive whenever she can, which has pluses and minuses.

Longest drive you have ever been on? Savannah GA to San Francisco, CA in a UHaul

Furthest away from home you have ever been? Germany

How many times have you moved house? God, I don’t even know. More than ten.

What is on the floor of the room you’re currently in, not including furniture? Cat toys, unused canvases

How many devices do you own which can access the internet? Phone, computer, iPad, various game consoles

Is there is anything that is guaranteed to always make you happy? Thomas and Jimmy <3 <3

Is there anything that always makes you sad? Thinking too hard about being a failure

What programs do you currently have open? I just rebooted, so only Chrome, Spotify and Photoshop

What do you associate the colour red with? This line in the Kate Bush Song Blue Symphony, which goes, ‘I associate love with red, the color of my heart when she’s dead.’

Last strong smell you can remember smelling? The Greek food I ordered in for dinner

Last healthy thing you ate? Roasted veggies

Do you drink tea or coffee, and how much per day? I prefer tea, and I drink coffee for energy, though sometimes I think it just makes me crash harder.

What do you associate the colour blue with? The sky

How long is the closest ruler you can find? 12 inches

What colour pants/skirt/etc are you currently wearing? Dark blue

When was the last time you drank water? About a minute ago

How often do you clear your browser history? Rarely

Do you believe nude photos can be artistic, rather than erotic? Yes

Ever written fanfiction for anything? Oh God, yes. You can still find it under Link Worshiper on AO3, though some of my ‘classics’ have been removed since I turned them into original manuscripts

Last formal event you attended My cousin’s wedding

If you had to move your birthday to another date, which one would you choose and why? Maybe inch my birth year up just by two so that I’d stop being called a damn millennial. At my age, I really just don’t relate to the generation even though technicalities make me a part of it.

Would you prefer to be at a beach or in the countryside? Beach

Roughly how many people live in your town? 52,000

Do you know anyone with the same birthday as you? Leonard Nimoy :D

Favourite place to shop? Can be a certain store or a place where there are multiple stores I haven’t really gone shopping since the pandemic. Right now, it feels like the only place to buy anything is Amazon XD

Do you have a smartphone? What kind? If you don’t, do you want one? Samsung. It’s not a Galaxy but is a new model and a fraction of the price.

What is your least favourite colour, and why? I don’t think I dislike any colors honestly.

How do you spell grey/gray? Grey. I’ve got too many British online associates to ever go back.

Go to your dashboard and describe the image shown in the radar section (below the “Find blogs” link) It’s Umbrella Academy fanart of Klaus. He’s in black and white with this hands over his eyes and the background is red. It’s very graphic.

What difference is there between how many followers you have, and the number of blogs you follow? 736

How many posts do you have? 8,859

How many posts have you liked? I can’t find the stat D:

Do you post mainly reblogs, or your own content? Mainly reblogs but I pepper in my own content when I can. Lately, I haven’t had time to do as much fanart though, and I kind of feel like it’s not worth bothering to post my original stuff. Nobody follows my blog for that.

Do you track any tags? No.

What time is it currently? 7:33 PM CMT

Is there anything you should be doing right now? Waking up @duoloopo. TIME TO JUMP ON THE BED.

tagging, if they feel like it: @abbys-little-whippersnapper @bumblebarrow @irrationalgame @downtoncat @mab1905 @duoloopo

and everyone who I’ve forgotten

#personal #about me #questions

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nazariolahela · 4 years

Text

Best Beloved: Chapter 1

A/N: Hey y'all! This is a PM AU I’ve been working on. It’s a bit different than my previous fic series and I’m really excited to try something new. I hope y’all enjoy it. This story is told in dual first-person narrative, from Kaia (F!MC) and Damien’s POV. The first half of this story takes place during Kaia’s freshman year and Damien’s senior year of college. The second half is two years after Kaia graduates. There will be sprinklings of canon in this fic, but we’ll try to step out of the box for the most part. Thanks for reading, and please leave feedback, and/or if you would like to be tagged.

Synopsis: What happens when you find yourself crushing on your best friend? For years, Damien and Kaia have been friends, while secretly harboring feelings for one another. Everything changes one night after a little too much alcohol and years of pent up feelings. Can they control their emotions and salvage their friendship, or will the feelings they hold for one another destroy everything they have?

All characters are the property of Pixelberry Studios. Thanks for allowing me to borrow them.

Chapter Summary: It’s the first day of classes at Hartfeld University and that means meeting new faces.

Kaia

Six Years Ago

I raced across the courtyard of Hartfeld University, tugging my backpack higher on my shoulder. It was the first day of the new school year and class started in less than five minutes. Except I was all the way on the other end of campus. Whose bright idea was it to hold college classes at 8 a.m.? Way to make a good impression on the first day, Kaia.

That’s what I got for staying up until 2 a.m. the night before binge-watching episodes of America’s Most Eligible. In my defense, my roommate Victoria and I spent most of the evening getting to know each other. We discovered that we both love the show and are huge fans of Jakenzie. (That’s Jamie x Mackenzie for all you old folks out there.)

We also learned that we were both valedictorians of our respective high schools. So we spent most of the evening sharing stories of our childhood and teen years. We might have also played a few rounds of Truth or Drink. Hence why I was running late that morning. I didn’t even have time to stop at the campus coffee shop for caffeine and eye candy. What? The barista was a total babe.

I eyed the big clocktower near the library and saw that I only had two minutes left. I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to make it. I still had to make it to Clark Hall and climb the ninety-million stairs to the third floor.

After finally arriving at Clark and climbing the Mount Everest of staircases, I sucked in several deep breaths and burst through the doors of Professor O'Keeffe’s Composition 101 classroom at 8:03 a.m. The whole class turned and the professor eyed me exasperatedly as I slinked to the back of the room, waving a silent apology as I took a seat. She shook her head and continued going over the syllabus. I pulled my MacBook from my backpack and started taking notes, stopping occasionally to scan the room for signs of anyone I might have met at freshman orientation.

I spotted a girl who sat next to me. I think her name was Sloane. Looking like she just stepped off-campus at a prestigious prep school, she wore a blue long-sleeved turtleneck sweater with a plaid skirt and a gold necklace. I focused my attention between her and the professor, watching curiously as she dug around frantically in her laptop bag, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose every time they slipped down. I spotted an empty seat next to her, so when the professor had her back turned, I gathered up my things, rose from my seat and moved over to the other side of the classroom.

“Hey!” I whispered as I took the seat next to her. She looked up from her bag and grinned when she noticed me.

“Hi, there! Kaia, right?” she asked, extending her hand. I nodded and shook it. “I’m Sloane. How’s your first day going?”

“Well, I was late for my first class and I haven’t had coffee. How’s yours?”

“I can’t find my phone charger. I know I packed an extra one, but it seems to have grown legs and walked off.” She continued shuffling through her backpack, her brows pinched in a V. Her unruly curls fell in her face and she brushed them away frustrated.

I dug through my bag, pulling two different phone charges from the side pocket. I held both of them up to her. “Which one do you need?”

Her eyes widened as she examined both chargers in my hand. Reaching for the Samsung charger, she mouthed a thank you and plugged the USB end into her laptop before plugging the other end into her phone. She glanced at my iPhone sitting face-down on my desk, then turned to me. “I gotta ask. Why do you have two different chargers?”

“My cousin Nadia is always losing hers, so I keep a spare on me just in case.”

She nodded and turned back to the front of the classroom, focusing on the professor. The rest of the class passed by uneventfully. When Professor O’Keeffe dismissed us at 8:50 a.m., Sloane and I gathered our things and walked out of the classroom together.

”Where are you off to next?” she asked, adjusting the strap on her bag.

“Intro to Sociology. You?”

”American Government. Gotta love those Gen Ed courses, ” she said with a laugh. “Wanna get lunch later? I have a free period after 11 a.m.”

“Sure. I’ll text my cousin and see if she wants to join us,” I said, pulling out my phone and shooting Nadia a text.

My cousin Nadia is quite the character. Our dads are brothers, but she and I are so close, people often asked if we were sisters. We grew up together, living three houses down from one another. Since we’re only six months apart, we were lucky enough to be in the same grade from kindergarten all the way through high school. Now, we’re privileged enough to attend the same college. I glanced at her text and shook my head.

Sloane and I exchanged phone numbers and I waved goodbye as we took off in opposite directions. I pulled out my campus map, trying to find Alexander Hall as I made my way across the courtyard to my next class. I wasn't looking where I was going when I accidentally slammed into a brick wall. Except it wasn't a brick wall.

“Whoa! Watch where you’re going!” a deep voice shouted as I immediately went flying backward onto the pavement, my phone and backpack crashing to the ground with me. The sound of breaking glass made me cringe. Well, shit. That’s going to be expensive.

“Are you okay?” his velvety voice probed. “You fell pretty hard.” He hooked his arms under mine and helped me to my feet, checking me for injuries. I released myself from his grip and bent over to pick up the rest of my belongings. I nodded a thank you and dusted off my black skirt, frowning when I saw the run in my pantyhose. I huffed as I picked up my phone and examined the shattered screen. I just got this damn thing in May. It was my present to myself for graduating from high school. Now, I have to pay to have it fixed.

I shoved it into my backpack and took a moment to study him. It only took a few seconds, but I immediately recognized him as my old friend Damien. My eyes widened as I realized who I had just crashed into. “Oh. My. Gods! It’s really you!” I said as I flung myself into his arms.

“You always were clumsy,” he laughed and squeezed his toned body against mine.

It had been four years since I saw him last. Damien and I were next-door neighbors and although he was four years older than me, we spent nearly every day hanging out. I had the hugest crush on him, even though he only saw me as a sister. After years of pining for him, I decided I was no longer going to hide how I felt. I stole two of his dad’s beers, chugged them in rapid succession, and went in search of the boy I’d loved since 7th grade.

We snuck away from his party and hid out at the playground down the street from our houses and about how much we would miss each other after he went away to college. There, under the jungle gym, I drunkenly confessed my feelings for him. That was also the first time I kissed him. After he gently pushed me off of him, he told me that he cared about me, but that I was only 15 and it was inappropriate for a guy his age to pursue me. I was so embarrassed, I ran away from him and hid out at my house for the rest of the night.

He came home for Christmas that winter but we didn’t get to see much of each other. Now that he was here in front of me after all this time, I realized how much he had changed since then. My eyes traveled the length of his denim-clad legs, past the black t-shirt stretching across the muscles of his broad chest, up to his face. He had the softest chocolate brown eyes, wavy brown hair, and warm tan skin. Just a hint of stubble peppered his chin and his defined jaw tensed as he watched me. His intense gaze made my cheeks tint pink.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Are you okay?” I replied. Of course, he was. He barely flinched when I all but plowed into him.

“I’m more worried about you. I’ve never given someone a concussion on the first day of classes before and I’m not looking to start.”

I rapped my knuckles against my temple. “You know me. I’ve got a thick skull. My phone on the other hand, well R.I.P.,” I said, miming pouring out a 40-oz for my now-broken handheld device. He chuckled and his brown eyes bored into mine, making me feel suddenly self-conscious.

“How have you been? How’s your first day going so far?”

“Well, I overslept and was late for my first class, I still haven’t had caffeine, and I bulldozed into a random guy with reckless abandon. So, I’d say it’s going well.”

He laughed again, the sound warming my insides. My eyes scanned his face, taking in his strong features. He was so pretty, I could cry. “So, where are you off to in such a hurry that you’re Miley Cyrusing people?”

“Oh, I��m trying to get to Alexander Hall. I missed out on the campus tour during freshman orientation, so I’m trying to find my way around.”

He took my map from my hand, his fingers brushing mine in the process. The sensation of his touch coursed through my entire body and I had to remind myself to breathe. He retrieved a pen from his backpack, pulling the cap off with his teeth. I’ve never wanted to be a pen cap so bad in my life.

“So, you are here,” he said, marking an “X” where we currently stood in front of Clark. “You’re going to want to keep on this path and head past the library, then take a left at the fork,” My eyes followed the line he drew along the paper. “And then you’ve reached your destination.” He circled the building in question and handed the map back to me, before capping his pen and slipping it back in his backpack.

I opened my mouth to ask him if he wanted to hang out later when a female voice pierced the air, interrupting us. “Babe, hurry up. We’re going to be late for Social Psych.”

Babe? I looked over his shoulder to see a woman with dark brown hair, full lips, and piercing brown eyes making our way toward us. She narrowed her eyes at me, then turned back to Damien, slipping her hand in the crook of his elbow and pressed a kiss to his jaw. He glanced at me apologetically as she pulled him toward Waterfield Hall.

“Be careful out there. And have fun this year. We'll get together soon,” he winked and gave me a wave as the two of them walked away toward their next class.

“Who was that?” I heard her ask, their voices fading with every step.

“Just an old friend,” he replied. My stomach sank. No matter how much I wanted us to be more, we never would be. I glanced at the courtyard and noticed the crowd thinning out, meaning the next block of classes would be starting shortly. I hitched my backpack on my shoulders and sighed deeply as I made my way to Alexander.

***

Damien

Alana’s nails gently scraped up and down my bicep as we sat in the lecture hall, listening to Professor Henderson drone on over the syllabus for this semester. Just two more to go and I’d be done with this place. Don’t get me wrong, I’d enjoyed my four years at Hartfeld, but I was ready to graduate and GTFO already.

Sophomore year was particularly hard. I almost dropped out halfway through fall semester after Dad passed away. Except Mom wouldn’t let me. She begged me to stick it out and made me promise to graduate. I couldn’t say no to her. Call me a mama’s boy if you must, but she’s the most important woman in my life and I couldn't bring myself to let her down. If we’re being honest here, I was doing it for me too. To be the first person in my family to graduate from college was a pretty big achievement.

I struggled to listen to the professor’s lecture, jotting down notes in my notebook. I should have been paying attention, but I had too much shit on my mind. Mainly my schedule for this semester. I needed to meet with my advisor after class and get my internship shit lined up. That’s what you get for waiting until the last minute, Dames. I pulled out my phone and shot a quick text to my advisor, asking if she had a free period this afternoon to get my paperwork filled out.

I looked to my right and saw Alana jotting notes in her notebook as her left hand still stroked my arm. I watched her for a few moments, taking her in. Alana and I met spring semester during our freshman year. We sat next to each other in Western Civ and our class discussion on long-standing issues in Western history turned into a full-blown shouting match. The professor pulled both of us out into the hallway and calmly explained to us that she would not allow that kind of behavior in her class. She then decided the best form of torture was to pair us up for the semester research project.

The first few weeks were hell. Alana and I disagreed on everything. Including the topic for our project. About halfway into the semester, she and I were studying in the library, when she asked me why I was — and I quote — “such a moody little bitch.” I told her she would be too if she had a pain in the ass like her for a partner. She laughed and told me how lucky I was to even be in the same vicinity as her. We exchanged jabs for a good ten minutes before she leaned over and kissed me. When I asked her what that was for, she replied that it was to shut me up.

Not going to lie, I was intrigued. She had a level of snark I had only seen from the women in my family. I knew I was in trouble, but there was just something about her that drew me to her. We began dating a week later and have been nearly inseparable ever since. Being that this was our senior year, I found myself wondering what would happen to us after graduation. I raised the topic of marriage once or twice over the last year, but she was always quick to shut me down. She insisted that she loved me, but didn’t think marriage was “for us.” I shook the thoughts from my mind and peeked at Alana from the corner of my eye. She was still focused on the professor. Good thing she couldn't read my mind.

My thoughts wandered to Kaia. It felt like a lifetime since we saw each other. She had grown up since then. I remembered the last things we said to each other before we parted the night of my grad party. She got drunk and told me she was in love with me. As much as I wanted to return her feelings, she and her cousin Nadia were like little sisters to me, which made the whole situation weird. Plus the whole age thing. I sighed and dragged my hand across my face, trying to clear my head. Before long, the hour was up and our professor released us. Alana and I gathered our things and linked hands as we made our way out of the lecture hall.

“I’ve got some free time before my noon class, so I'm going to head back to the dorms. You wanna come with me?” she said, batting those long lashes my way. My dick screamed yes, so I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and pressed a kiss to the spot behind her ear as we walked.

“As long as we’re back in time for my Interpersonal Comm class.”

She rolled her eyes. “I can't believe you, a senior, are taking a 200 level course. Why didn’t you take that class sophomore year?”

I shot her a look. She knew why. She was the one who stood by me during Dad’s illness. I was lucky I was able to finish most of my classes that semester. Interpersonal Communication is the only one I had to drop. So, here I was retaking the course so I could graduate with my full 120 credits.

“It is what it is,” I said as we walked back to the dorms. A few minutes later, we arrived at Richmond Hall where Alana lived. I waved to some guys I recognized from one of my classes last year and followed her inside, checking out her ass the entire time.

When we arrived at her room, she dropped her bag off at her desk and disappeared into the bathroom. I moved around her dorm, looking at the pictures of us on the wall. All the memories we shared in the last four years. The Winter Formal sophomore year. The summer before senior year at the Cape. Our trip to San Francisco junior year over Spring Break.

I rubbed the aching spot in my chest, remembering proposing to her on that trip. She looked like she wanted to throw up when I dropped to one knee in front of the Golden Gate Bridge. She covered her face in embarrassment and begged me to stand up. Confused, I asked her what she meant. She pulled me away from the gawking tourists shooting me sympathetic looks and explained that while she loved me, she wasn’t ready for marriage. I felt like the biggest idiot.

I was still looking at the photos when the bathroom door swung open and Alana strutted out, wearing nothing but a silk bathrobe. Ho-lee-shit. Pretty sure I died and went to heaven. She sauntered up to me and wrapped her arms around my neck, peppering my jawline with kisses. “Is this what you brought me to your dorm for?” I whispered in her ear, taking her lobe between my teeth.

“Mmm...This one is my favorite. Look how hot you are in your board shorts,” she said pointing to the photo of us at Cape Cod. She examined the photo wall while she casually slipped her hand down my pants. I snaked my arm around her waist and slid it down to her ass, which the robe barely covered. My eyes widened when I noticed she wasn’t wearing panties. I turned her around to face me, then grabbed her by the waist and tossed her on the bed. She squealed and reached up to grab my t-shirt, pulling it over my head. I dipped in and began to kiss her neck when my phone went off.

“Ignore it,” she panted, raking her fingernails up and down my back. I licked a trail from her earlobe down to her collarbone, peeling the robe open to expose her breasts. I kissed my way down the swell of her left breast when my phone went off again. I groaned and rolled off her, grabbing my phone from my back pocket, and saw two missed calls from my advisor.

“Shit. I gotta take this babe. Gimme a sec.”

“Are you fucking serious?” she huffed and pulled the robe closed. I grabbed my t-shirt off the floor and slipped it on before stepping out of her room into the hallway. I pulled up my missed calls and hit the redial button. Dr. Griffin picked up on the first ring.

“Mr. Nazario. I’m glad you called back. I have a free period now if you’re available to go over your internship paperwork.”

I sighed and raked a hand through my hair. I really needed to get my internship taken care of so I could get credit for my work, but my girl was on the other side of the door, half-naked and waiting for me. Waging a war with my thoughts, I decided that I’d have to make it up to Alana tonight.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” I told her, then hung up the phone. I steeled myself for the difficult conversation I was about to have with Alana and made my way back into the dorm room. She sat on the bed, a scowl on her face as she looked at her phone.

“Hey, babe. That was Dr. Griffin. I need to go get my internship paperwork taken care of.” Alana rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath. I moved in front of her and leaned over until we were at eye level. “I promise I’ll make it up to you tonight. Okay?”

She glared at me, not saying anything. I gripped her chin between my thumb and forefinger and pressed a kiss to her lips. She didn’t pull away, so I knew she wasn’t that mad. I kissed her once more before I turned and headed out of her room.

I made my way out of the dorm and shot her an apology text as I headed across campus to Dr. Griffin’s office. The grey text bubbles popped up, then disappeared a few times, before she replied, “K.” I sighed and slipped my phone in my jeans pocket. I couldn’t blame her though She was mad because she felt I hadn't been the most reliable boyfriend, but if I knew her like I thought I did, she’d get over it. Either that or I’d have blue balls for the next week.

#best beloved #pm au #college au #friends to lovers #perfect match #choices fanfic #damien nazario #kaia park #damien x mc #nazariolahela fanfic

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