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1kook · 3 years

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crunchyroll & rail

the 10th installment of my netflix & chill series !

SUMMARY Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. WARNINGS smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… MISC fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality, RATING m (18+) WC 8.7k

NOTE (!) the smut in this chapter is relatively short ! I was more concerned with writing this monumental step in their relationship, so sorry to all the lads who come here specifically for the p0rn but today we focus on the l0ve <333 anyway nc 10!!!!! Can u fuckin believe….

Jungkook mentions it at the dinner table one night. You’re not eating— well, you are not eating; Jungkook has been stocking up on his protein intake like a madman —but finishing up some work you had brought home. Your back aches, your eyes burn. The mere sound of his soft voice has all those feel-good endorphins shooting through your nervous system like a shot of adrenaline. “We should take a trip,” he says, fork clattering against his plate to signify the end of his feast.

Your fingers tap across your keyboard, eyes flickering between an Excel sheet and the report you’re typing out. It takes you a moment to respond, a delayed, “huh,” that even Jungkook doesn’t find convincing.

In the background, you’re listening to what has to be one of the worst voiceovers of the original Sailor Moon series in a language you don’t even understand. But you know the series like the back of your hand, know what exactly is happening even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, because you’ve watched it only about a million times. It’s mostly just there for background purposes anyway, some white noise to try and replicate the noisy soundtrack of your office.

To make matters worse—complicated?—, you had been too lazy to get onto your usual pirating sites and had settled for the five minute, five part, 240p clips of Sailor Moon on YouTube (you know the ones), and Jungkook has to wait until Episode 74: Part ⅖ ends before you grace him with a proper response. “Where do you wanna go, baby?” you ask, giving your eyes a break from the data as you move to scour YouTube for Episode 74: Part 3/5.

He’s stretching back now, arms wound up above his head. His hair— god, his hair —is an ashy color now, a faded version of its golden ancestor from a few months ago. Soon, he’s planning on going back to brown, claims he’s getting too old to be dying his hair, whatever that means. For now, you watch his inked fingers run through his scalp; he looks delectable. Maybe you’re hungrier than you initially thought. Or at least thirstier. “A cabin,” he suggests, and he offers this little half shrug that would otherwise seem normal had you not been well-versed in the art of Jungkook Body Language. His front teeth nibble at his lip, eyes laser focused on his empty plate. Even now, he still gets nervous asking you out. That thought alone makes your ego soar as high as an airplane. “Just something small.”

Usually, “something small” with Jungkook ends up being something big and, in most cases, something expensive. Which you’re totally not opposed to— you’re at the point in your relationship where you don’t even bother trying to dissuade Jungkook from showering you with gifts. It’s one of his many, many, many, many forms of loving you and, well, he knows you like the back of his hand. He rarely misses.

Lo and behold, it is a grander affair than a simple cabin. “Well, it’s more like a resort,” he confesses, reaching across the table for your hand. Immediately, his thumb finds itself rubbing over the simple band of your promise ring. “Just wanna do something nice for you. I know you’ve been tired lately,” he adds on, voice a quiet murmur that nearly gets lost under the intensity of the pout that appears whenever he becomes even the slightest bit bashful.

You smile, the fondness in your heart skyrocketing to impossible heights when he lifts your hand to press those pretty petal lips against your knuckles. “Well, just let me know when,” you tell Jungkook. “So I can request time off from work.”

Episode 74: Part 3/5 starts playing after an ad, and you’d pause it for the sake of preserving this moment with Jungkook, but it’s hidden under so many tabs on your laptop that you lose it the second you leave the tab. Jungkook’s head tilts to the side, sending his ashy locks cascading beautifully. “You know that show is on Crunchyroll,” Jungkook says, seemingly moving past his bout of shyness now. “And you have the password.”

“Do I,” you murmur, but he’s lost you once more, your true talent of typing with one hand showing itself as you return to your Excel sheet, the other still firmly squeezed in his grasp. Jungkook releases soon enough anyway, cleans up the table quickly, and disappears off into the kitchen. He sings when he washes the dishes, likes to pretend he’s a terrible singer even though you’ve told him countless times he could easily take X Factor by storm. (And you know exactly what it takes to wow those judges— you spent the entire last month psychotically watching multiple X Factor seasons from multiple different countries, nearly considered joining the damn audition yourself.) The horribly dubbed Sailor Moon is yelling now, shrieking really, and Jungkook calls from the kitchen, “don’t forget to take your contacts out, sweetheart.”

It’s domestic and it's nerve-wracking.

You want Jungkook, that much is a fact. Aristotle and Socrates and that other guy could debate the philosophical intricacies of the world, turn this dimension in on itself until it was a scrambled mess of emotion and thought, but the one thing they could never change, could never even question, is your love for your boyfriend. You want Jungkook badly, but more importantly, you want Jungkook forever.

And you’re sure Jungkook probably, maybe, hopefully feels that way too. But the way you feel is… slightly concerning to say the least. For starters, you’re convinced your love for Jungkook was meant to be, and that’s saying a lot coming from you. You’re not one for cheesy, soulmate tales— that was more Jungkook’s thing —but the more you think about it, the more you become convinced that you and Jungkook were destined to meet. Like the planets aligned one year, the stars conferred, a tectonic plate somewhere in California shifted; whatever it may have been, something happened somewhere that led to the birth of this beautiful romance of yours.

Lately, being with Jungkook has this inexplicably fiery feeling blossoming in your chest, these waves of emotion that sometimes have you fantasizing about the weirdest of scenarios with him. Like yelling at him for not taking the garbage out on time, or bumping into each other as you make dinner in the kitchen, or buying a new rug together.

(Most drastically, the other day, you had a dream where you were pregnant and Jungkook was there and there was a house and a dog and an annoyingly friendly neighbor and this god-awful tile in the bathroom.)

Long story short, you’ve been fantasizing about a forever with Jungkook. The concerning part is the timing; was this too early? You’re nearly halfway through your second year with Jungkook now, and you know most people date for many, many years before the mere thought of union even occurs to them. In another life, maybe you were the same, would have held off until the very last moment. But with Jungkook things just feel right (at least for you), like there wasn’t going to be anyone else after him. And you sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be.

You slump back into your seat, eyes fluttering shut. Too many thoughts swirl around your mind, and the screech of the Sailor Moon voiceover on screen certainly doesn’t help. How you managed to spiral that far down your thoughts in the span of one 240p, five minute clip of a larger episode amazes even you. To add onto your worries, the clip abruptly ends and Episode 74: Part ⅘ is nowhere in sight, a fact that draws a frustrated moan out of the already sensitive you.

Luckily, Jungkook eventually returns, standing closely behind you. His presence is enormous, the room suddenly overflowing with a shit ton of those feel-good endorphins all over again, except this time they reach an all-time high when he leans over and quietly shuts your laptop. “Come sleep,” he says softly, and it’s a pleasant mixture of his genuinely caring voice and that horndog purr of his that lures you into bed. And it’s that same voice that croons softly into your ear, fingers nestled between your folds until you’re orgasming yourself into a deep slumber.

Much to no one’s surprise, the cabin turns out to be quite the luxurious lodging; two floors of dark oak everywhere you turn, a stunning stone fireplace in the bedroom, and a truly breathtaking view of the resort’s snowy hill (read: front row seats to watch all the snowboarders and skiers wipe out in the snow). Jungkook had splurged quite the pretty penny on it, so you make a point to clap it up for him when he first opens the door to your temporary home for the weekend.

The main bedroom is beyond words. It’s got an attached balcony (that you doubt you’ll be using in this chilly weather), and a wooden canopy bed that makes you feel like a royal (that you will certainly be using). It’s separated into two areas, the bed space and a tiny entertainment area on the other side of the room. Perhaps the best thing about the room— and the cabin itself —is the huge, smart TV mounted above said stone fireplace and the fact it allows the phone mirroring option in lieu of not having any streaming sites. And as is with every and anything to do with televisions, Jungkook is the most excited of the two of you. “Baby, look,” he beams, pointing excitedly at whatever he’s got mirrored onto the television this time. Knowing him, it’s probably another documentary.

You had the forethought to finish your work before the trip, spent two days in the office going absolutely ham on this month’s final reports until your department head promptly sent you home to finish the rest there. You had given yourself a fright upon entering the bathroom that night, the state of your under eyes so severe, you feared it was sufficient cause for a national emergency. Similarly, Jungkook had done the same with his work, cooped himself up in his study until he was free from the shackles of capitalism for the weekend. All this to say you’ve missed him these past few days.

But even though you’re sorely malnourished in the affection department and craving a good kiss or two, you wouldn’t dare interrupt one of Jungkook’s little nerdy, tech-induced fanboy moments. They’re cute, in their own geeky way, providing some insight to a mellower side of your boyfriend who looks on with childlike wonder; Jungkook’s eyes always get so big when he talks about nerdy stuff. You get to work hanging up the silk shirt he packed for tomorrow night’s fancy dinner at the resort, listening to some British narrator’s detailed description of the functionally extinct Northern white rhinos living under 24-hour surveillance in Kenya.

(Jungkook’s really into nature documentaries again, had spent a few nights sniffling as he watched that one Koko the gorilla film.)

The original plan was to head to the nearest store and whip up something small to eat at the cabin. But Jungkook is a little tired from the long drive, slumps down into the couch in front of the now lit fireplace like a limbless blob as he tunes into his documentary. His nose is a little red from the outside chill. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. You love him so much, you fear you’ll accidentally squeeze his cheeks to death. It’s a thought that occurs more times than you’d like.

According to the pamphlet on the nightstand, the resort has its own room-service to order from. Normally you would do that, but not this time; you had gotten into a bit of a squabble with the man at the front desk after he had tried to withhold Jungkook’s reservation for arriving two minutes past your check-in time, called each other all sorts of names before he backed down and gave you your room key. So you’re still a little salty, to say the least. Instead, you settle in for some pizza in front of the huge TV, calling up the nearest place to order some of Jungkook’s and your favorites.

You plop down beside him, instinctively cuddling closer when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “So,” you start, flipping through the rest of the resort’s introductory pamphlet. There’s a loud roar on screen. In all honesty, you didn’t even know what Northern white rhinos sounded like until then, and you probably never would have if not for the man beside you. “What are you in the mood for tonight, sweet boy?”

You’re not sure if it’s the fatigue or the overall relaxed vibes he’d been exuding since the moment you entered the cabin, but Jungkook is weirdly cooperative today. “Whatever you want,” he responds, head on your shoulder. He even places the remote in your hands, gives your enclosed fist a gentle tap as if he’s just handed you the secret to eternal youth. In other words, it’s a rare sight to behold. “This is your trip, pretty girl.”

You appreciate the sentiment, but feel the need to clear the air, tucking your feet up onto the couch as you snuggle closer. “Our trip,” you clarify, and snatch the remote anyway before he changes his mind.

Jungkook releases a quiet huff of laughter, head rolling back against the couch cushions to display his thick, juicy neck that definitely doesn’t awaken any vampiric tendencies in you. “We can even watch some anime if you want,” he murmurs, casually throwing an arm around your shoulders in a way that would have made any teenage girl in the early 2000s squeal with excitement. It’s one of those barely there touches, but the way he holds you makes you feel so safe and warm and loved. So loved and in love. “The ones on Crunchyroll, though.”

For the sake of preserving these good vibes (and your ears [and Jungkook’s sanity]), you navigate to the Crunchyroll app on your phone, quickly finding your latest obsession and mirroring it onto the big television before Jungkook can react. “Sailor Moon?” he asks with a tone that implies a feigned interest, mostly out of respect for you; he’s, sadly, still not the big dorky anime fan you had hoped to convert him into.

“In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you,” you recite dutifully, snatching up the throw blanket on the end of the couch. It’s barely big enough to cover the both of you, has Jungkook’s outstretched legs and your booty subject to the chilly air. Who cares, Jungkook is a furnace anyway.

He snorts. “Punish me,” he mumbles, as if he doesn’t believe it. His snarky comment wins him a playful pinch against his doughy cheek, not that he particularly defends himself against it anyway, eyes fluttering shut as you tug at the pale skin.

“Don’t fuck with the moon, Jungkook,” you warn him, snuggling closely against his side as your favorite opening song begins filtering through the speakers of the television before you. It’s infinitely better than the 240p YouTube clips you had subjected yourself to the entire last week, the graphics scarily clear.

“Right, of course,” Jungkook says, but a hint of amusement seems to curl around the sound anyway. Nevertheless, he lets it go, cuddles into your side as you pour your full focus into watching yet another group of ragtag teenagers with supernatural abilities kick some ass.

You can tell Jungkook isn’t really into it, and you’re torn between just snuggling him into a well deserved nap or taping his eyelids open so he can become a fan of this show with you.

The loving, caring, adoring side of you says Jungkook deserves the entire world and more (the more in question preferably being a fluffy blanket and a nap). He worked hard this week, just like you, and on top of that he was the one who planned this entire weekend getaway for the two of you to enjoy. You want him to rest up.

The obnoxiously in love girlfriend-slash-best friend in you says Jungkook is sorely missing out on one of the greatest shows on planet Earth and that naps are for the weak.

Your jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a loud sound on the television, a yelp from Ms. Sailor Moon herself that has you jolting up in surprise. Jungkook welcomes you deeper into his embrace, chuckles at your little fright. “Scared?” he teases in that low voice that makes you feel like you’re going crazy, really. So crazy and irrational, and the only thing that stops you from bombarding him with an unexpected outpouring of love is that hard and sharp thing that pokes your side when you get too close to him. It’s not Jungkook, sadly, but something in the front pocket of his hoodie instead.

And for some reason, part of your brain is stuck all of a sudden, rewinding the last two and a half years like a broken cassette tape that had the tape reel hastily stuffed back inside by a toddler. It’s choppy to say the least, and it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook calls your name softly, tenderly. “__,” he murmurs. It’s a little weird; it’s not often he says your name, mostly referring to you with one of the many pet names from that part of his vocabulary that focuses exclusively on terms of endearment. Your heart skips a beat.

Now, if anyone were to ask, it’s approximately around this time that you begin to spiral. The pink curve of his bottom lip is just too close, the mole on his nose too prominent. Paired with the obnoxious tittering of Usagi on screen, you can feel your thoughts begin to overlap, bumping into each other within the realm of your brain until all that comes out are the messiest of messy thoughts.

They go like this:

Most episodes of any anime run for approximately thirty minutes. Take out the commercial breaks, the opening and ending credits, and it becomes something closer to twenty. Twenty minutes per episode, filled with plot and gags and tears and whatever else necessary to make you feel something, anything really.

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask tentatively.

In contrast, it takes approximately two seconds for Jungkook’s lips to quirk up— first the right side, always the right side —and his eyes to crinkle. Two seconds for him to smile, a sweet expression that reminds you of Netflix and college and quiet laughter and tattoos and silly YouTube videos and cookies and cell phones and job applications and blond hair; two seconds to make you feel everything all at once.

“There’s nothing,” he says, but his cheeks are pink, and it’s not from the cold anymore. His smile is so big it makes your own cheeks ache just looking at it. You can’t even hear the television anymore. Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. “It was supposed to be for tomorrow,” he admits, unwrapping his arm from around you.

It’s a little funny, somehow, because his hands are covered in ink, in tiny doodles and intricate pieces of swirls and words that ooze this aura of strength and toughness. But they tremble when he opens it, as unsteady as a wispy dandelion on a windy day, fumbling with the box. And when you look closely, he’s been biting at the skin along his thumb again, that nervous habit you’ve been trying forever to help him overcome.

Someone is saying something on screen, something important to the plot. The volume is loud, but not as loud as your heart. Not as loud as Jungkook’s quiet murmur when he speaks again. “Will you marry me?” he asks softly, looks at you with flushed cheeks and big eyes and his heart on his sleeve.

The answer has always been the same, hasn’t changed since the first time he planted the seed in your mind. Still, it catches in your throat, nearly loses out to a surprised and emotional sob that you barely manage to bite down. You had just been speaking, had just been ready to deliver a whole spiel on the importance of him watching Sailor Moon with you. But when you try now, it’s raspy and dry, as if you haven’t used your voice in years. “I— yes,” you exhale, surprised by the lonely tear that trails down your cheek. You go to wipe it away, but Jungkook beats you with a gentle hand cupping your cheek.

His smile is wobbly, patches of red blossoming across his face that eventually consume his entire appearance as he leans his forehead against yours. Only then do you realize he’s crying, and you laugh out of reflex. “You’re crying,” you say, and Jungkook snorts.

“You cried first,” he sniffles, smiling. “You made me cry.”

He looks like a wreck, but, like, a hot wreck. An engaged, hot wreck who’s eyes flicker back to the TV to remind you to pause your anime, always so considerate. You do, hastily smashing buttons on the remote before remembering it’s controlled by your phone, hands flying back and forth as your nerves actively work to retire themselves after Jungkook’s proposal. “Easy there,” he soothes, eventually catching your hand in his, drawing it up for a kiss against your knuckles.

The ring fits perfectly, snuggly. Vaguely, a memory drifts through your thoughts of Jungkook and Doyeon on a rampant mission to reorganize your jewelry box a few months ago, but it disappears as quickly as it came. You’re taken by the ring, a simple band with a pretty diamond on top. It’s a good mixture of you and him; flashy yet mild.

“You love me,” you marvel, a revelation you’ve had the honor of experiencing time and time again with Jungkook. Still, it never fails to render you speechless. He hums.

“I do,” he says, taking your hand in his. “It’s the easiest thing for me. Like breathing, or existing. I think I was made to love you.” And normally, you’d be the first one to correct him. Jungkook was made for so much more, a fact he’s proven time and time again with his abilities and the sheer size of his heart. He was your golden boy, could do anything he set his mind to. Always amazing you, always making you fall in love all over again.

But now, with the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air, you find yourself incapable of negating the fact, instead sniffling at the meaning.

Pleased with your silence, Jungkook places another chaste kiss against your ring. “I love you, __,” he confesses, voice nearly a whisper. Your entire body feels as if it is doused in gasoline, lit aflame over and over again. Your heart threatens your rib cage, pounds away with the strength of a world renowned boxer. Jungkook’s hands curl around your wrists carefully. “I used to think we were like the moon and the sun,” he admits, “that you were my sun and I was your moon. In love but always separated by those thin veils of the sunrise and the sunset.” He pauses, nuzzling sweetly against your palm once more before gently guiding them down between the two of you. “But that really sucks— saying goodbye to you every night? I hate that, __. I hate watching you leave, I hate watching you run off in the mornings or halfway through the day, having to drive back and forth from your place to mine. I hate having to be away from you when all I wanna do is hold you. I— I want to be by your side,” he rambles, eyes nervously meeting yours. They’re still glassy, dark lashes framing his chocolate irises wonderfully. “Forever.”

Your heartbeat stutters, the simple word looping itself in your mind like that night in his dining room all over again, all the fantasies of having a forever with Jungkook bubbling to the surface. Jungkook pushes on. “You are my sun,” he says softly, mostly to himself. “But… I don’t wanna be the moon anymore. Being the moon means, eventually, I’ll have to say goodbye. In the night or in the morning, it always comes to an end. And I don't want there to be an end with you,” he insists, clutching your hand tightly. “I wanna be another star, the closest one to you. The one who gets to be with you forever. I wanna be by you and shine with you and—“

“Explode into a gazillion little fragments of cosmic dust with me,” you offer, and Jungkook nods along eagerly, too amped up on his speech to bother scolding you for your playful comment.

“Yes, I want to— to—“ The words catch in his throat. So much emotion from the man you once thought was the dictionary definition of calm and collected. “To—“

“Marry me,” you fill in, and Jungkook practically blows a fuse from how emotionally fired up he’s become, exclaiming a resolute, “yes!” that leaves you stupidly grinning back at him.

His outburst leaves him with flushed cheeks. “I do,” he reiterates in a softer tone, averting his gaze from you as if embarrassed by his cheesy outpouring of emotion. Usually, it’s the other way around; you make all the corny declarations of love and Jungkook laughs along suavely. It feels nice to have the tables turned.

There’s so much to say, but the words all fade away when Jungkook shyly looks at you again. You settle on tackling him back onto the couch cushions, taking his surprised little yelp in stride as you suffocate him in your embrace. “Save those words for the big day, superstar,” you giggle, peppering his red face with tiny kisses that make him scrunch up cutely. “I can’t wait to blow up into one huge supernova with you.”

Beneath you, Jungkook groans. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, voice muffled against your shoulder. Begrudgingly, his arms come up to envelope you, pulling you closer until the blanket scrunches up uncomfortably between you two. “That must’ve sounded so lame.”

Leaning back so you’re not completely squishing him, you carefully push his silvery hair away from his forehead. “Don’t be,” you assure him, placing one chaste peck against his pouty lips. “I thought it was cute. I didn’t know you were into astrology.”

A sigh. “Astronomy,” he corrects, “astrology has to do with zodiac signs and placements.”

You run your thumbs over his cheeks, collecting any of the drying tears that paint his face. “Oh, like how you’re a Virgo and I’m a“—

The TV remote you had lost somewhere along the way is suddenly rematerialized beneath your knee, sends the speakers blaring to life with a deafening screech that has both you and Jungkook leaping up like two frightened cats. “You always do this,” he laughs, that loud boyish sound that makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. He watches you with a gentle smile as you hurriedly shut off the television, the remote haphazardly tossed somewhere behind you afterwards. You return to his embrace, wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his warmth. His heart thumps a steady rhythm beneath your ear.

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever,” you warn him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like he’ll suddenly disintegrate before your eyes.

Above you, Jungkook hums, placing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I look forward to it,” he responds, pulling you impossibly closer, until you can feel the wrinkles in his shirt imprinting themselves against your cheek. He’s back to being that suave bastard again, and you find yourself wishing you had milked those big crocodile tears out of him for just a little bit longer.

Fingers gently press against the muscles in your nape, push themselves in deeply until you can feel all the tension seeping out, turning you into a limbless blob over Jungkook. “Jeez,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “And you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I just thought you’d rather get engaged at a fancy restaurant with a pretty dress,” he defends, and you can hear the grin on his face. “For the photos.”

“Fair point,” you concede, eventually pushing yourself up so you’re not entirely squishing your boyfriend beneath you. Jungkook is already looking at you when you lift your head, has got this funny double-chin from this angle that makes his normally sharp jawline disappear. You find yourself tapping a finger against his chin, on the chocolate chip mole that hides itself beneath his plump bottom lip. “If anything, just propose to me again tomorrow at the restaurant.”

It wins you an eye-roll. “I’m not gonna propose to you again tomorrow,” he laughs, doesn’t even push you away when you become annoying and start tapping your fingers against all his beauty marks like you’re playing Whack-a-Mole.

“Booo,” you frown, but let it go soon enough, foregoing your little game to press your lips against his. “Then I better make this a night to remember,” you murmur, tilting your head to the side.

Your hands dip into his luscious locks, fingernails tracing thin lines along his scalp that are certain to send tingles down his spine. As predicted, Jungkook releases a quiet groan soon after, a sound that’s muffled against your own lips. He’s pliant tonight, but not in a way that would elude fatigue. Pliant in a way that suggests he wants you to take the reins tonight, exhaling softly against you as he parts his lips.

“Let me take care of you,” you hum, the hand that had been mindlessly hovering along his cheek drifting down to caress the side of his neck. Jungkook nods, his irises swimming in lust. You smile at his silent compliance, give his throat a light squeeze that makes his breathing hitch in surprise.

He’s always at his prettiest when he’s beneath you like this, limbs moving in slow motion as you guide him along. You can already feel the beginnings of his arousal stirring beneath the front of his sweats, his cock slowly making its presence known against your thigh. You press your lips against his once more, making sure to make it rougher than the first kiss. Your tongue is met with little resistance, slips past his lips and dips into the hot cave of his mouth where Jungkook releases another trembling breath.

Two hands come up behind you, trail themselves over your back and down to your ass, where he gives the two globes a tight squeeze. It draws a whimper out of you, one that Jungkook greedily swallows up. His tongue rubs up along yours, the wet muscle daringly pushing back against yours. His rebelliousness is only quelled with another press of your fingertips around his throat.

“Slow down,” you tell him. The first roll of your hips against him is slow, cruel in that you cut the motion short just as Jungkook begins to push back. A bratty huff escapes him, swollen pink lips pushing out into that endearing pout you love so much. It makes you grin, releasing the grip around his throat to carefully brush a stray strand of hair away from his eyes.

It’s a gesture that works to soften Jungkook as well, the petulant look on his face melting away as you trail your pointer finger along his cheekbone. It’s replaced with a more tender one, dark lashes blinking up at you slowly. “Open,” you command upon reaching his mouth, finger pressing down against his pink lower lip. Jungkook obeys, opening his mouth until you can see his pink tongue and the dark abyss that leads down his throat. Your finger pushes itself in, and Jungkook certainly doesn’t try to resist. His lips suction around the digit fairly quickly, tight enough to keep you there but loose enough for you to slowly draw your finger in and out, each short plunge pressing down against his tongue.

It’s a rather short affair, one that comes to an end when he accidentally bucks up against you, pressing his hardened member against your core. You retract your finger. “Can you,” he tries, but his cheeks are stained red and he refuses to meet your gaze. “Just…”

You intercept him with a chaste peck, maneuvering your legs until your knees are firmly pressed into the couch cushions beneath him, his thin waist trapped in between. When you sit up, you feel drunk on power and the way Jungkook looks up at you certainly doesn’t help. “Can I sit on your face?”

He chokes. “I— sure, please,” he blurts out. His gaze follows you as you slip off of him, quickly discarding your pants and top on the floor. One pat against his thigh has him hurrying to shimmy out of his clothes, his sweatpants caught around his ankles.

“You’re excited,” you laugh, stripping him of his bottoms when the frustration takes him over.

Jungkook scoffs. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, tugging his shirt off with one smooth motion. The ink around his bicep is as dark as ever, contrasts wonderfully against his warm face. “My fiancée is gonna sit on my face.”

The title makes you preen, quickly finding your place on his lap once more. With your clothing out of the way, Jungkook really does become a furnace. Every inch of his body is hot to the touch, soft too. “Fiancée,” you giggle, hands on his chest. They slide down, fingers playfully nudging his brown nipples. Jungkook flinches at the touch. “Gonna sit on my fiancé’s face,” you parrot back, delicately pinching one nipple between your fingers. A moan spills from his lips, his cock pushing against your thigh once more.

It’s the reminder you need, pushing back dutifully against him as you continue to toy with his chest. He’d look pretty with piercings, you find yourself thinking, watching on in fascination at the way his pert nipples stand at attention. Beneath you, Jungkook begins to grow desperate, his hands finding their place on your waist to encourage you to grind down against him once more.

Jungkook swears up and down that he’s not particularly sensitive about having his nipples touched. But when you’ve got him like this, sinfully laid out before you, you can easily confirm that his claims are nothing but lies. He loves having his nipples touched, squirms beneath you impatiently with each playful tug and twist you bestow upon them.

You duck down, pressing a kiss against his pectoral, just beside his nipple, and Jungkook’s entire body shivers. A few careful drags of your tongue against his warm skin only serve to string him along further, the prettiest whimper pulling itself from his lips when you finally envelope one of them in your mouth. “Wait,” he gasps, clawing at your clothing as if he both wants to push you off and push you closer. You grin, brandishing one mean nip at the sensitive nub.

Eventually, your incessant need to play with Jungkook’s chest is fulfilled. “Lay back,” you instruct, watching as he shuffles down flat on the cushions, silver hair tumbling away from his eyes. He’s so red, eyes hazy. Your panties are discarded, joining the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor.

Once upon a time, the idea of sitting on Jungkook’s face had terrified you, filled you with nightmares of crushing his windpipe or breaking his nose. For the most part, they’re pretty unrealistic fears, ones that can be easily shut down after one careful Google search on safe sexual practices. These days, it’s all too easy; in the mornings, especially, it’s become natural for him to guide you on top carefully, holding your hand as you whimper and sob over his face.

In the current moment, you find yourself stroking a hand down the side of his face, completely enamored with the huge puppy eyes he levels your way. Jungkook likes having your pussy in his face just as much as you do, loves making you feel good in any way he knows how. But there’s a separate matter at hand, one that stands at attention beneath his black boxers and successfully wins your attention.

Truthfully, there is no dilemma to ponder over; you want both to ride Jungkook’s face and suck him off. The solution?

“We’ve never done this before,” Jungkook mumbles in amazement, his voice slightly muffled from his position beneath you and slightly behind you. Still, his arms dutifully wrap around your thighs, guiding you closer to his mouth where his hot breath fans against your glistening folds. You rock back willingly, hands preoccupied with pushing his boxers down and away from his engorged cock.

“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the cock before you and the tongue that gently laps at your folds. Jungkook makes a sound, something between a hum and whimper, his mouth slowly getting to work against your folds. “M- Maybe,” you stutter, all thought processes coming to a halt as you carefully take him in your hand.

His cock is hard and long, his tip an angry shade that weeps with precum. From this angle, you get to watch Jungkook’s huge thighs twitch at the sensation, the tattoo that marks up one of them doing little to hide the fact. Your hand squeezes him, watches in awe as another fat droplet oozes out of his tip. A moan tears itself from his throat, and it’s so goddamn sexy it nearly drives you insane.

It’s one particularly long lap of his tongue over your clit that sends you into action, back arching at the tingles that shoot down your spine. Wasting no more time, you guide Jungkook’s cock into your mouth, let your own tongue shower his mushroom tip in kitten licks that have him bucking upwards. He releases your clit with a lewd pop, hot breath fanning across your lips. “Fuck,” he gasps, voice harsh.

Admittedly, it’s more difficult than you thought it would be.

You’re not one to be easily overwhelmed (says you), but with Jungkook’s twitching cock in your mouth and his teasing tongue dipping into your entrance, it becomes hard to juggle your attention between the two. Even Jungkook, who is quite frankly the master of cunnilingus, seems torn between the two, his breathing shallow and quick against your folds.

With each slow descent around his cock, he shudders, thigh muscles tightening in anticipation. It causes a lull in the pace of his tongue, the generous kisses and licks against your folds subject to a somewhat uneven pace that, surprisingly, leaves you more on edge than you’d ever expected it to; right when you think he’s about to suck your clit into his mouth, you’re met with a harsh exhale instead, one that makes your lips flutter.

You’re both disappointed in yourselves for never having tried this mind-blowing position before, and equal parts understanding as to why you haven’t tried this position before— it’s a lot. His cock is halfway down your throat when it twitches, sends a gush of precum into your mouth that has your eyes rolling backwards, a whine slipping out around him. Jungkook appreciates the vibrations, letting it fuel him as he plunges his tongue into your hole. It’s a two way street, you realize, one that is constantly experiencing traffic.

“Baby,” you gasp, pulling off of his cock with a slick sound, hypnotized by the trail of saliva that connects your lips to his tip. Jungkook’s tongue prods along your slit, makes your eyesight go blurry when the tip of his nose brushes along you as well. The idea of his cute nose buried deep someplace it shouldn’t be has you grinding down on him. “We can— we should stop,” you stutter, your trembling hand reaching forward to grasp the base of his cock.

He’s slick with your saliva and his precum, and your hand makes a squelching sound upon contact. It must feel good, because Jungkook moans against your folds, his thighs unconsciously falling farther apart as you slowly jerk him off. You think you might’ve heard your name slip from his lips, but your mind is fuzzy, lost in your lust as Jungkook licks a sinful line from your hole to your clit, curling his tongue at the end. “J- Jungkook,” you cry, flinching away because it’s become too much, your toes curling as the beginnings of an orgasm threaten you.

Before that can happen, he relents, leaning back with a heavy exhale, his hands loosening their grip against your ass and plopping back down against the cushions. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your hold. A lonely droplet of precum trails down the side, your knuckles coated in the glossy substance. Beneath you, Jungkook rubs one soothing palm against your hip.

You slink off before he can get any funny ideas, maneuver yourself around until you’re kneeling between his parted thighs, his fat cock standing at attention between the two of you. From here, he looks ravenous, and you begin to question who exactly is taking care of who. Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from pinning you down and swallowing you whole, a thought that makes your toes curl.

It’s with a cautiously horny hand that you reach for his cock again, holding him with both hands. Jungkook growls, head lolling backwards until all you can see is his neck and his chin, thick veins protruding along his skin. Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment longer. “C’mere,” he purrs, hauling you up until you’re clumsily leaning over him, palms framing his face. A lone finger runs down your spine, its faint touch making you arch forward. “Sorry,” he says, securing an arm around your waist. “I know you wanted to take care of me, but…”

You roll your eyes, submitting yourself to his clutches as he masterfully rolls the two of you over. The couch is soft beneath your back, and Jungkook looks pretty from above too. “You just can’t sit still, can you?” you murmur playfully.

Jungkook’s forearms find their place beneath your thighs, the fold of the back of your knee perfectly slotted against his warm skin as he shuffles closer. “Maybe another time,” he laughs along sheepishly, his hard cock gliding over your slit, teasing your clit. You gulp, eyes scanning over his lean build as if it’s the first time. “Sorry,” he repeats, but he’s got this stupidly dopey grin on his face as he glances down at your pussy; he’s insane, he’s got to be, what man makes heart eyes at a pussy?

Your man, apparently. Grasping the base of his cock, Jungkook takes care to drag it along your folds collecting your wetness along his length, a deep shudder wracking his body through it all. “I knew you would do this to me,” he mutters, so low you nearly miss it under the thundering sound of your heartbeat.

“Huh,” you mumble, and you’d like to defend yourself and say you weren’t as cock-crazy as Jungkook was coochie-crazy, but that would be a lie. You’re staring at his cock as if it holds the secrets to the universe right now.

Jungkook juts his head to the side, a motion similar to the one he does when he’s trying to crack his neck. His tongue prods along his cheek, eyes laser-focused on the point where your two bodies meet. “From the moment you walked into my house,” he grunts mindlessly, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He chances a glance up, meets your gaze with a patient look, “all good?”

“All good,” you hurriedly reply, fingers finding their place against his broad shoulders. With the way he had prepared you earlier, mouthed along your clit and your folds until you were pleasantly aroused, the glide now is too easy. Tight, but easy, has the two of you releasing twin moans that echo off the wooden walls of the cabin.

Jungkook’s forehead is covered in a thin veil of sweat, one that glistens when the evening sunset pours in through the balcony doors, highlighting him in a golden light that makes you dizzy. The angry tip of his cock sinks into your walls, Jungkook’s ashy strands sticking to his forehead and his cheeks. For some reason, you find yourself reminiscing on the aforementioned moment Jungkook had spoken of. Of the soft sweater he’d worn that day and the dinner he had made, the blond tips on his chestnut hair and the way he’d clung onto every word you’d said.

It makes you tear up, and, after laughing at Jungkook early for crying, you quickly turn your face away.

Jungkook isn’t dumb. “What now,” he chuckles, though his breathing is labored, every inch of his cock that penetrates you further bringing with it another rush of adrenaline. At the hilt, you’re embarrassed to say there’s multiple tears streaming down your face, so you can’t even play it off as you usually do. “Crybaby,” Jungkook teases, but his voice is so soft and tender you don’t know what to do with yourself.

“Just move,” you bite out, shamefully covering your face with your hands. Jungkook leans over you, the movement pushing his dick deeper inside of you, your walls clenching around him. A kiss is placed over your knuckles, just shy of your engagement ring. Your chest lurches with a silent sob. “Jungkook,” you whimper, sinking further into the cushion, “please, just—“

“I got it,” he assures you, placing one final peck against your handmade (literally) shield. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he makes sure to whisper, “love you,” before unsheathing himself.

You shudder, your heart feeling so full, you fear it’ll burst. You both love and hate when he treats you like this, like an ice sculpture in the scorching heat that has him doing everything he can to keep you solid. His touch is soft, the roll of his hips too slow for your liking. You feel so small and vulnerable— too pampered. “Harder,” you beg, your voice an airy whine that has Jungkook chuckling above you.

He lives to please you, hiking your leg over his shoulder with a renewed vigor. His hands find themselves on your waist, forcefully pinning you down against the couch cushions as he sets upon fulfilling your latest request. The next series of thrusts are jerky, have you jostling in his grip as Jungkook pounds into you with an all new mindset. “Lemme see you,” he huffs, thumbs painfully digging into your skin. You tremble in his arms, heart swayed by the quiet plea in his voice. “Let me see your face, pretty girl.”

Reluctantly, you do, brandishing your tear-stricken face his way. Jungkook smiles, that stupidly handsome smile, his hips snapping into you roughly. “Fuck,” he moans, the expression never leaving his face, even when run your nails over his chest harshly. “You’re so pretty.”

You ignore him for the sake of your already weakened mental state, focusing instead on the brutal force of his hips, the way his cock stretches your walls out. Each push has you seeing stars, thighs quivering from the sensations that shoot up your spine and down your toes. “Oh,” you mewl, hands gripping his biceps as you lose yourself to him. Your eyes roll back, vision a mess of colors and nothingness all at once.

“Is this hard enough?” Jungkook husks out, and he sounds so close. His proximity is confirmed when his mouth slots against yours, his harsh breath mingling with your own as he continues to frantically buck into your inviting heat, each new round of thrusts leaving you weaker and weaker than before. “God,” Jungkook cries, the sound nearly lost beneath your own moans and whimpers. “Gonna k- keep you forever,” he spits, tongue slipping into your mouth.

He’s messier than usual, moves with unrefined movements unlike his normal self. You don’t care, you love him all the same. His sloppy kisses turn into desperate ones, matching the pace of his hips. “Kook,” you sob, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, pulling him close until his thrusts are reduced to a shallower depth.

“I’ve got you,” he croons, lips against your jawline. His cock presses in and you swear you feel it alongside every inch of your walls, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. He’s layering messy kisses down your face now, lips sucking dark marks any chance he gets.

True to his word, Jungkook indeed has you. His cock pistons in and out at an astonishing pace, each surge into your folds making you dizzy over and over again. It’s a feeling you fear you’ll never grow tired of, in fact, it’s a feeling you fear you’ll begin to crave even more in the future. The good thing is, that future will extend into forever.

You yank him towards you, swallow his low laughter with your lips. Jungkook doesn’t complain, lowering himself until he’s practically squishing you beneath his beefy body, cock ramming in and out despite all that. His tongue glides along yours, makes it his mission to muffle each of your cries.

It doesn’t take long for you to be fulfilled. Given the fact you had sucked him off like a lollipop whilst having him eat you out, you’re not entirely surprised. That and the emotions of tonight have you melting into him sooner than you’d like, his name falling from your lips as your thighs clamp down around his waist. Jungkook takes it in stride, slows the maddening pace of his hips to cradle you in his arms. You’re like jelly, practically flop back into the cushion when he slips an arm beneath you. “You’re so good for me,” Jungkook praises, lavishing your throat in tiny pecks as his orgasm circles around. “My pretty girl.”

“Love you,” you sigh, and your body feels numb, his intrusion but a small touch now that he’s tired you out once more, your walls tender and raw. Jungkook presses a smile against your throat and, moments later, releases inside of you.

Even minutes after the deed, the feeling refuses to return to your legs. He didn’t go that hard— well, you’re not entirely sure. The memories always become blurry toward the end of your escapades. Everything rushes back in waves, and for some reason, your first thought is, “where’s Sailor Moon?”

Your post-rump conversations have never been the most coherent, usually filled with pretty weird thoughts and ideas. Still, more grand things have happened tonight for you to be worried about a magical anime girl. Jungkook draws himself out of your core with a huff of laughter. “On the TV,” he answers, unfazed by the oddity of your question.

That’s how you know he’s a keeper.

It takes a while, but eventually Jungkook responds. “Avocado toast,” he says, though his answer is dripping with uncertainty. He’s naked as the day he was born, snuggled up beside you in bed. He’s propped up on one arm, looking down at you over the ample swell of his manly bosom. It takes everything in you to keep your hands off his chest.

“Correct,” you respond, “and what movie did we watch?”

Without missing a beat, “Transformers, the first one.”

You nod, glancing at the ceiling as you rack your brain for any other trivia questions to ask your fiancé. “The title of the playlist you made?”

A flush paints his cheeks. “Date Night playlist,” he answers through a pout, reprimanding you for bringing up such a memory with a flick to your forehead. You wince. “I was young and silly,” he defends.

You beam, cuddling into his side until he’s forced to lay back down. “Yeah, yeah,” you tease. “We’re only gonna get older from here,” you lament. You’d say it’s difficult to picture him with a gray head of hair, but his current silvery locks don’t leave much room for your imagination.

Jungkook pulls you close. A beat of silence passes, and then, “so who are we telling first?”

Definitely Namjoon.

#networkbangtan #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook #Jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader smut #bts fic #bts smut #mine

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jaedore · 3 years

Text

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 | 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: jaehyun x reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: mythology!au, angst, romance

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, suggestive (just making out lol), mentions of alcohol, violence (mentions of choking)

𝐚/𝐧: if you are uncomfortable with these themes then i highly suggest you no longer interact! also, thoughts/emphasis are italicized. I'll just put the header on when I have the patience bc I felt like this is long overdue

[4.5k words]

You woke up finding your body was stiff and sore. It overpowered the pain in your wounded knees that stung with every movement of your limbs. Yesterday seemed like days ago, it felt like a fever dream. No, a nightmare. All you wanted to do was just curl up in bed, but then you remembered that your mother and you were having dinner at Jaehyun’s place. You’ve never gone to the Underworld, you didn’t hear many good things about it and that terrified you. What if Cerberus ate you? What if a wandering, lost soul stole your soul? The questions were endless and it sent you down a spiral of nervousness.

“Y/n?” Your mother softly came in, an apron hung around her neck and the aroma of breakfast food seeped into your room.

“Morning, mom,” you croaked.

“How are you feeling?”

Your mind flashed back to yesterday; Jaehyun in your room, tending your wounds, being flirtatious, or whatever. You remembered it as clear as the Fountain of Youth.

“I’m fine,” you answered, swiping the sheets away from your body to peer at the wounds.

You gently peeled back the bandage a bit only to see that the wound was almost gone. It held a faint discoloration as it was in the process of healing, but you were impressed nonetheless.

“So,” your mother began as she sat on the edge of your bed, “tonight, I was thinking about bringing a pasta dish. Or should we bring a cake? A pie maybe?”

“We can just pick up a pie from the bakery,” you brushed your hand in the air, dismissing any ideas, “it’ll be easier anyways.”

“Ah, yes. Hades does like his spicy chocolate pies,” your mother hums as she smoothes her palm against your bedsheet.

“Ugh, I don’t know how he eats that stuff,” you grumble, swinging your legs off your bed.

“Well, he is the God of the Underworld,” she raises both of her eyebrows at you, “so, what will you be doing today? It’s super nice out.”

Peering at your window, the sun shines brightly in the sky. The sky is bare of clouds and it does seem like a beautiful day today. You can imagine yourself sitting in the grass with a book in your palms. But you had more important things to do today, like beating the shit out of Maeve.

Your shoulders slump as you reply, “I’m going to go train with Mark.”

“You’re always training with that boy,” she narrows her eyes at you, “are you in love with him?”

“Mother!” You raise your voice, snapping your head to her, “No, I am not.”

Athena only laughs at your reply as she gets up and makes her way out of your room.

“Hey, Y/n?” her voice stops you before you step into the bathroom.

“Yes, mom?”

“You know you can tell me anything right?” she asks, her voice sweet and loving.

You nodded, recalling the things that happened last night at the beach. You haven’t told her and she must be worried, but you’re too drained and confused to spill it. So you spare her a small smile as you walk into the bathroom, not saying a word about what happened.

“Come on! You can hit harder!”

Annoyed at Mark’s ‘words of encouragement’, you purse your lips as you attempt to hit the boxing pad with your mitts. You were beginning to get tired, your arms burned from the repetitive movements and your knees ached as it chased after your feet. Mark hasn’t given you a break since you’ve gotten here and it’s almost been an hour of constant hitting.

Growing frustrated, you shouted in protest, “I’m done!” you throw your mitts on the dirt.

Mark sighs, seeing the frustration in your eyes, “Okay, what’s really going on?”

You exhale a short breath, “Nothing you’d be interested in,” you answer him sharply as you walk towards one of the rocks to sit on. Mark follows you closely, but quietly afraid to set off the fuming bomb of anger you always held.

“You know,” he starts, “I’ve heard a lot of mysterious things about you,” he plops right next to you.

You curl your legs up to your chest as you stare forward at the waterfall, “Like what?” you mumble, really not interested in what he’s heard because it’s all been bad stuff.

“You tell me,” Mark shrugs.

You tighten your hold on your legs, “I think someone’s out to get me,” you whisper.

Mark leans in to hear you clearer, “Maeve?” he whispers back.

You shudder, her name bringing back awful memories, “Yeah, but I’m not sure why. I have nothing that has to do with her. Sure, I provoked her on the first day, but...it wasn’t severe to draw it out this far.”

Mark’s eyebrows furrow, “What do you mean?”

You explained what happened last night at the beach party. You quivered as you retold the story from your perspective. It was a vivid nightmare that you didn’t know how to wake.

“Where is Lucas now?” Mark asked.

You fumed at the male’s name. He hasn’t texted or called you since last night. He would be the key to all of your answers, but he wouldn’t answer any of your messages or calls. Lucas was friendly, always nice, and shined bright like the sun. You just wondered what he was up to.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, picking up the mitts from the ground, “come on. We came here to train. Plus, I want to forget it all.”

Mark quickly jumps to his feet, “do you think this has anything to do with the feud between Hades, your mother, and her’s?”

You tilted your head to the side, “What feud?”

Mark smirked, “Guess you don’t know then.”

“Mark,” you lowered your voice when he dismissed your question, “what. Feud?”

“I’ll tell you if you can beat me,” he said, picking up the other pair of mitts that laid on the ground.

Storming into your house, you shouted, “Why didn’t you tell me about the feud you had with Hades and Eris?”

Taken aback, she looked at you with wide eyes, almost dropping the spoon she held, “w-what are you talking about?”

You inhaled, “Why didn’t you tell me that after the Titan War, Hades, and apparently Zeus, imprisoned Eris in Tartarus? And that you were helping them and now she’s after me, possibly because of it?”

“Who told you that?” your mother calmly put down the spoon and rubbed her palms on her thighs.

“Does that really matter right now, mom?” your voice rose in anger.

“Sit down,” she wipes her hand on a napkin, discarding it as she walks towards you, who begins to be seated at the dinner table.

“Eris and I were good friends, we trained together as kids. She was good, almost better than me, but there was always the tension of competition between us. One could only be good in the eyes of Zeus so we grew up and trained with that mindset. As we got older, we were still good friends, but there was always that silent tension between us. When the Titan war came to be, Eris rebelled and fought against us,” your mother sighed, anguish tainting the streaks of her face, “I tried everything in my power to persuade her to fight with us, to be on our side, but that’s when she said all of the things that were never said. That I was the favorite, I was the best only because I was the favorite, I was only fighting along Zeus because he favored me more than her. Not because I was good or tactful, she disregarded our training together...our friendship, the bond that we had growing up. It was stupid really, but eventually, we beat their army and imprisoned her. According to Zeus, she did more damage during the war that I wasn’t aware of. That’s why she’s imprisoned in Tartarus. I haven’t asked because she’s...she’s dead to me really.”

You leaned back in her seat, realizing that Maeve probably was only acting out of feeling because of the relationship between both of your mothers. Her mother was imprisoned in the deep abyss below the Underworld, while yours lived a perfect, rewarding life.

“Is that why we’re going to the Underworld tonight? To talk to Zeus?” you quietly asked.

Your mother nodded, “I know I should’ve told you. I’m sorry. I just didn’t think of the possibilities of her coming for you through her daughter because of me.”

You shook your head, “It’s fine. I just want this to stop,” your fingertips brushed against your neck.

“Well,” your mother sighed, peering at her watch, “you don’t really have time to get ready, so why don’t you rinse your face from the sweat, and then we’ll pick up the pie and head on down.”

Head on down. You whimpered as you stood up. And it wasn’t because of your sore legs.

As you washed your face, you wondered if Jaehyun would be eating with you guys. You recall that Hades said Jaehyun was always at the Mourning Fields talking to the souls that wandered there. There, holds the souls that wasted their souls on unrequited love. Does Jaehyun love someone? Or does he not? Then you remembered how he took up space in your room last night. His fingertips sent icicle daggers through your skin that you felt their phantom as you wiped your face on the nearby towel. With the hopes of Jaehyun not speaking to you tonight, you braced yourself on the journey of walking down into the Underworld.

You jumped back at the sound of barking. Cerberus. The three-headed dog barks at both you and your mother. No matter how powerful your mother, Athena, was, she had no power over a creature created to guard the gates of the Underworld.

“Why isn’t he coming? I rang the doorbell like five minutes ago,” your mother grumbled.

As if on cue, the gates opened and the growling sounds of Cerberus silenced in question.

“They are not the enemy or the dead, Cerberus. They’re our guests.” a voice rang above you. You found out later that the voice belonged to Hades, but you saw Jaehyun stepping out from behind the black, iron gates.

“Good evening, sorry for the wait.” Jaehyun bowed to you both.

Your mother paused, regretting the comment she made before as she saw how handsome Jaehyun was, “You’re Jaehyun, right? You grew up so well.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Tch “ma’am”. As if you actually had manners. You rolled your eyes at his sense of poise. You wonder where he learned such acts in a short amount of time.

Your mother nudged you, “do you have anything to say?” she whispered.

You inhaled a sharp breath, narrowing your eyes at the prideful male in front of you, “Thank you for having us,” you mumbled, barely nodding to him.

“Please, this way.”

Jaehyun led your mother and you towards Hades’ Palace, the stone tower tall enough to peek through the rising fog of the evening. Across the path to the left stood the Judgement Pavilion. Several souls lined up waiting for their next home where they’d be trapped forever. One of the souls snapped their eyes to you as if they knew where you stood, who you were. Their eyes were full of darkness and fury, almost consuming you into a tunnel of doom.

Jaehyun snatched your arm, his grip vice-like, “Don’t look at any soul who hasn’t been through the Judgement Pavilion, it’s their last chance to steal a living being’s soul before they’re judged into exile.” You hadn’t realized it but it was only you and Jaehyun who stood on the pavement that led you to Hades’ Palace.

You looked ahead not seeing her, “Where’s my mom?”

“She already went in. We didn’t even notice you were gone until she asked you something to only find you not behind us.”

You inhaled a sharp breath, “How long have I been standing here?”

“Around five minutes, you didn’t hear me call you?” Jaehyun’s eyebrows furrowed.

Shaking your head in denial you said, “No, I didn’t until you grabbed my arm,” you eyed down to your arm seeing that he still held you. Jaehyun’s grip loosened as he also realized that he hadn’t let go yet.

“Come on, let’s go,” his hand tightened around your arm once again as he dragged you towards the stone palace.

“I can walk myself,” you snapped at him, attempting to yank your arm from his clutch.

Jaehyun turned to you, his eyes cool and icy, sending chills down your spine, “I know,” he lowly said, “but I’m not taking my chances,” he gripped your arm again, leading you to his home.

The moonlight barely shined against the copper stone of his palace, creating sheer darkness looking like it hadn’t been touched for centuries. As unwelcoming as it felt, you could smell the complete opposite; a small scent of mint, the natural smell of tree bark, and the faintest feather of lavender. You glanced forward at Jaehyun, he hadn’t spared you look as you two made your way towards his home.

Jaehyun led you past the Asphodel Meadows, only tugging on your arm harder to bring your senses back. He was right to do so because looking at it was hypnotizing. You were even surprised that the ground-up dirt was able to grow flowers, and not knowing what kind they were, they were the most beautiful you’ve ever seen. The trees that sheltered them were bare of leaves and plants, creating a haunting aura, but it didn’t alarm you enough to look away.

“Come on,” Jaehyun tugged at you once again, this time gaining your attention.

You glared at him making you feel like some child that wasn’t able to concentrate. “What’s down there?”

He glanced back at you, mirroring your expression, “You don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t. Now hush, we’re almost there.”

After a few more steps, you both came to face his home. The palace was bigger than you expected as it loomed over you. It felt like you were walking into your own exile.

“I thought you got lost,” your mother called to you as you walked in with Jaehyun behind you.

“She almost did,” he mumbled as he passed you to sit at the dinner table.

“She’s always been a curious one,” your mother laughed.

“That could get you in some serious trouble, girl,” Hades walked into the room with spoons in his hand. The high-pitched cackling sound of the spoon hitting the dishes made you wince, “come sit, it’s almost time to eat.”

Obeying Hades’ words, you idly sat next to Jaehyun with shame settling in your bones because you felt embarrassed that he had to drag your ass back to his place. The skin where his hands once grasped your arm felt tingly and you couldn’t burn it from your mind. It’s not like you and Jaehyun had many encounters, or rather, pleasant encounters, but you can’t help yourself but stare at him from the corner of your eye. Jaehyun sits with poise and pride, but you can see the burden he carries in the way he slightly slouches and the exhausted sigh that wriggles from his lips.

As everyone eats, you can’t help but think what Jaehyun’s thinking about. You can tell he’s thinking about something from the tension in his brow and the small pout coming from his bottom lip. From time to time, you ignore the small moments where his arm or leg brushes against yours or when you both reach for the same dish. And there’s a sort of tension over the table as everyone silently hides their comments as their food reaches their lips.

Hades is the first to speak, “So, I’ve heard you’ve had quite the events lately,” his tone low and cautious.

You clear your throat, “Um, yes.”

You begin to tell him everything that’s happened from the start of Maeve to the event in the Phantasms Forest. Not leaving out a single detail, you didn’t even notice your hands tensing up until you felt warmth from another on top of your chilled skin. Turning to your mother, she nods to you in comfort, letting you know that you’re doing well and you’re strong for facing what you’ve been through. Hades listens closely, not reaching for his food and feeling the slight disgust from those who caused you harm. Truth be told, he knew what was happening and why it was happening to you. Slightly nodding at your mother, they both lifted themselves from their seats and walked out the door leaving you and Jaehyun alone.

You turned to the male to your right, “Where are they going?”

Jaehyun shrugs, grabbing the nearby plates, “Probably to Tartarus.”

“What?” You snapped up on your legs, immediately following him to the kitchen sink, “Why?

“I’m sure you know that’s where they’re keeping Eris,” Jaehyun spares you a glance as he begins soaking a sponge in soap.

“Yeah,” you crossed your arms, “but why are they going down there? To talk to her? What is she going to do? What are they going to do? How long is this going to take?”

Tired of the overload from your questions, Jaehyun turns to you. Unbeknown that you were leaning forward towards him as you spoke, your eyes widened as you came face to face with the hot-headed male. His eyes were a pool of darkness with a hint of brown like melted dark chocolate. You stood in front of him with your feet glued to the ground. Heat radiated off your body as you parted your lips. Jaehyun’s eyes flickered down. He sharply inhaled to only let it out as he turned away and began scrubbing the dishes again.

“Bring the dishes to me and I’ll wash them,” he said before you could turn away from him.

You clutched the collar of your shirt. What was that? Your fingers trembled around a plate when you realized that he didn’t even answer any of your problems.

Setting them on the counter next to him, you snapped, “You didn’t even reply to my questions.”

“You talk too much.”

Stunned, you purse your lips and walk away. He can clean the kitchen by himself. You sat yourself in their living room, plopping yourself on the couch. If it weren’t for the dim lamp that flickered in the far corner of the room, you would’ve walked around blindly. The walls were painted in black, the rug was black, and even the couch you sat on was black. Everything was black like a fire had torn through the palace. The only color that caught your attention was the pictures that sat on top of the unlit fireplace. Making your way towards the photos, you found family photos of Jaehyun and his parents. It looked like a regular family you would suspect in the human world, a mother and father playing with their toddler son in the park. Except it wasn’t a park and it wasn’t a regular family. The field Jaehyun played on was the Field of Asphodel, but it was beautiful, there was greenery, grass, and beautiful flowers that bloomed around little Jaehyun. You wondered what happened to the breathtaking scenery. Your eyes landed on a particular picture that made the corners of your lips lift in the slightest. There, laid little Jaehyun sleeping peacefully in the embrace of Cerberus who also laid in slumber around the little boy, sheltering him from the rain that penetrated to the Underworld. Cute. The faint blur of a finger covered the corner of the picture, you wondered who took this photo. You thought that maybe it was his mother, Persephone, who no one’s heard of for years. The last thing you heard was that Hades kidnapped her after eating six pomegranate seeds and she was forced to live six months in the Underworld and six months in the mortal world, Earth. But she hasn’t returned from her six months on Earth. And it’s been 20 years.

“No, I don’t know where she is, nor do I really care,” Jaehyun said beside you.

Jumping, you didn’t even realize he was there. Holding your chest, you panted, “I didn’t even say anything this time.”

“I know,” he glanced at you, his gaze flickering back to your lips, then lower to your neck, “but you were thinking it.”

“I-”

“Come, I might have some ointment left for your neck,” Jaehyun doesn’t even give you a chance to protest.

Grabbing your wrist, you obediently follow him back into the kitchen.

“Sit,” he commands.

You look around in question, “Where the hell am I going to sit?”

Jaehyun reached up to the upper cupboard, the bottom of his shirt slightly lifting with his shoulders to reveal his back, “on the counter, of course,” you averted your eyes somewhere else when he turned to face you, “unless you want to sit on my lap,” he smirks.

You shake your head, lifting yourself on the counter. Even if you sat on the counter, you were only tall enough to meet him at eye level. Snapping the cap open, the familiar smell of mint and ginger filled your nose as he dipped two fingers in the gooey substance. A very sinful scenario flashed across your mind as he pulled those fingers back out, his digits drenched in the healing fluid. Squeezing your legs together, you cleared your throat as he crept closer to you, but that only led to Jaehyun sliding his free hand around your nape to pull you closer.

“I don’t bite,” he whispers, that smirk returning.

“I didn’t ev-”

You tensed as Jaehyun’s fingertips brushed on your skin to apply the ointment. Both of your bodies were so close to each other, the only blockage being your knees that dug into this stiff abdomen. It also didn’t help that Jaehyun’s face was incredibly close to yours. With one movement, your lips would’ve met.

“Relax,” he whispers, his eyes switching up to meet yours.

Chills shoot down your spine, a sudden heat pooled at the bottom of your stomach at the breeze of his breath. But eventually, you relaxed. Until you felt his hand on your neck rubbing circles. He repeatedly dipped those long digits of his in the ointment and reapplied it to your neck. To be honest, you thought it looked fine, it was still sore and hurt in certain places but it felt like he was lathering you in it. Once in a while, you’d wince at the pressure Jaehyun’s fingertips pressed against some of the bruises.

“Sorry,” he’d murmur. You’d thin your lips but relax as soon as he apologizes, his voice sounding sincere and gentle.

Slightly turning to the side, you let out a troubled breath, sharply inhaling another, repeating those steps over again and again until Jaehyun slowly pulled away. His warm hand slipped from your nape and your breath trembled, the cold air settling on it as soon as he pulled away. You watched him set the ointment back where he got it from, not missing the flutter of his skin that revealed the slight muscles in his lower back. Oh boy, you sighed.

Jaehyun turned back to you, “You alright?”

You nodded, “Will it still be there by tomorrow?”

Jaehyun walked to you as you stayed glued to the counter, he hummed, “Considering that you almost met death twice in the span of two days, it’ll take a few days,” he was closer once again, “just be careful,” his voice in a low whisper.

You could feel his breath brisk your cheeks. You didn’t know if it was your own heat warming you up or the faint warmth of the words that escaped his plump lips. You felt his abdomen on the curl of your knees like before and there wasn’t a way to bring them closer because it’d reveal to him what you were thinking...or feeling. Maybe you weren’t thinking clearly, maybe you were just lonely. But the longer you stayed in front of him, your desire to kiss him grew. He’s been nothing but cold and mean, but he’s been so kind and taking care of you despite his spiteful aura. You sucked in your bottom lip, stopping whatever trembling words attempted to escape from the cage of your tongue.

You sucked in a sharp breath when Jaehyun’s hands slid to your waist.

“Don’t do that,” Jaehyun brought him closer to you, prying your legs open to create space for him.

You sucked in another sharp breath, “Do what?”

“You know exactly what you’re doing.”

Jaehyun seemed to be drawing closer to you, his gaze occasionally glancing at your lips as both of your breaths began to weigh down. Closing your eyes, you swore you felt his lips brush yours until you realized he wasn’t kissing you at all, but instead lifting you until you were back on your feet. With bodies still closer than the stars were to the moon, you tipped your head up to meet his gaze. Already looking at you, Jaehyun let out a heavy sigh.

You should’ve inhaled another breath because the next second, you found yourself against Jaehyun’s lips. Those lips that were so pink and so inviting met yours. It felt like Olympus was on pause and it was just you and him. No Maeve, no darkness, nothing. A heavy sensation of peace settled in the curve of your palms as you dragged them down his chest. You gasped when he bit your lip, sucking and, licking it for permission of entrance and you immediately complied, not giving it any thought at all. Those calloused hands of his wrapped around the small of your back, pulling you closer flush against his body, against his hips. Jaehyun’s tongue danced with yours, a gasp revering the way he held you close to him, the way with each stroke, you moaned enough to satisfy him. Until he pulled away.

With panting breaths and blinking eyes scattering across yours, you could see the panic in his eyes. You could see instant regret that pooled in the darkness of his eyes, yet you couldn’t help but inhale when he stepped away, the heat of his body replaced with his familiar coldness. Your eyes follow Jaehyun as he runs out of his home. Not saying anything to you, but leaving you alone in the darkness of his home. In the Underworld. Standing alone in his kitchen, you could hear the loud beating of your heart penetrating your ears, blocking the sound of droplets from the faucet, the hum of the house, and the confusion in your breath. Your fingers fly to your lips, the feeling burns yours like a scar. Was it something you said? Was it something you did? Gulping, you frantically searched the cupboards for a cup of water, thirst reaching your throat, but instead you found a section that opened up to bottles of whisky and wine.

Even better. Finding a drying cup in the sink, you poured yourself a glass of the bronze liquid, not caring for it’s age or make. You winced as the liquid scorched your throat, coughing at the slightly burning sensation that warmed your mouth, but anything was better than the searing feeling of his lips and the pain of when he pulled away.

#neowritingsnet #nct writers #cznnet #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun angst #nct 127 imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jung jaehyun #jaehyun #jung jaehyun imagines

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seodami · 3 years

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Dearest treasure | KTH

Summary: Every kid in town was afraid of Kang Taehyun, the old -slightly creepy- man living alone for years and years in the same run down house. Every night he would go into his backyard with a shovel and dig a hole into the earth. No one knows why and there are kids rumouring about him burying people. Jungwon was a bright kid, wanting to find out the truth behind this widely spread rumour for a school project. And what he found out would change his life forever.

Genre: fluff, angst, flashbacks, story of life, snippets of life, tiny bit humour

Warning: old Taehyun, mention of death, mention of suicide/suicidal thoughts, death

Word count: 10152 (all 3 parts)

Pairing: Kang Taehyun x reader, (Yang Jungwon)

Note: Wow okay so this story took me a while to write and I listened to hours of das music to finish this🥺 this was honestly an emotional rollercoaster. But I’m so glad it’s finally finished so I can post it on here yayyy!!! I hope you like it an enjoooyy (please tell me if you cried I would really appreciate your responses haha bc I did)

Main masterlist

2089 (present)

Deathly silence hung in the air as thick as smog. In Jungwons eyes pooled tears, ready to spill over the edges to fall into free fall and drop heavily onto his trousers. His heart was burning, not finding any suitable words of comfort or understanding for the old man in front of him. His throat felt like it was tied up so tightly, he couldn’t breathe. Oh, how didn’t he know? Oh, how could anyone talk bad behind his back? So much hurt…

Mr. Kangs head hung low, not daring to make any other noice than his sniffling nose. Hot tear drops were silently dropping down, it felt suffocating just watching him so full of hurt and sorrow. Suddenly Jungwon felt sorry to let him relive his whole life together with the terrible pain even the young boy could feel.

“I- I…I never could…forgive myself. It was my fault-“ the once handsome mans face was dark and the wrinkles now seemingly even deeper full of regrets and unspoken words. “You wouldn’t understand, boy-“

Jungwon couldn’t form any appropriate words at that moment and let the sadness let him take away just for a little longer. His story was heavy… he felt like he just heard something he shouldn’t have heard. Something so private and fragile. It had touched him more than he had thought.

“I didn’t want to live anymore… it was all worthless since then… I had no motivation to keep going.” His voice became a tad more stable, yet still quiet and weak. His tired eyes met the innocent boys and for a second the old man could see his younger self inside his big brown eyes. Sadness and nostalgia rolled over him and he averted his gaze.

“I tried ending my life many times since that day- it never worked no matter how much I wanted it… and then I just…I just mouldered…alone, broken- and just a shell of my old self. I wasn’t the once happy, bright, clever boy anymore. I could never be that again…”

Jungwons heart felt heavy, breathing wasn’t bearable. His hands unconsciously reached forward to the tiny lost figure sitting in his sunken mould. It was a simple touch but for Mr. Kang it was the first reassuring and comforting gesture he had received in a long long time. It made him tear up stronger, still staying silent. The young boy wanted to be there for the old man. He wanted to show him that he wasn’t alone in this.

Moments of depressing, yet healing silence passed, just the ticking of the old clock in the dark living room was heard. “I’m so sorry Mr. Kang…” Jungwon finally whispered, unsure if the man spoken to even heard it. He couldn’t do much but be there in this moment. Quite honestly he felt like crying himself. But he wanted to stay strong for him.

“One day-“ Mr. Kangs voice shook a little but he kept talking. “-I remembered the time capsule. My dearest treasure. So long ago. And I made it my life mission to find it. One last moment to hold onto and…look back to.” A thick single tear slowly rolled down Jungwons cheek. So that was it. That’s why… and everyone had dragged the vulnerable man down, putting even more dirt into his deep wounds.

“I-I searched everywhere. But…but i just…forgot. It’s my last wish before I finish this…” life he wanted to say. Finish his life. It made the school boy unbelievable sad. Oh how much he must’ve suffered his whole life. And before Jungwon could’ve decided differently, a strong feeling of wanting to help and support creeped up to him.

“I’m gonna help you Mr. Kang. We will find your treasure.” Jungwon reassuringly took the heavy, wrinkled hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. It was the first time since that day, that he felt hope again. Just a tiny tiny splinter but it was there. Hope.

The next hours, both of the males digged holes through the whole garden, not saving any sweat, too focused on finding the mans greatest desire. Mr. Kang had already reached his limit after three holes, following with the 14 year old boy leading him towards an old wooden garden bench to rest on. Jungwon on the other hand was full of verve and energy to fulfill his dearest wish. To find his dearest treasure. Mr. Kang watched him with surprise and thankfulness, never had anyone gone all the way out to help him with something so important to him. There was never someone who he could’ve went to. After that day, he had broken off all the contact with his old friends. He wanted to feel alone at some point. He deserved the pain. That’s what he had always told himself. But now he was old and weak and just wanted nothing more than to be finally reunited with his beloved family. He missed you everyday. He heard his daughters laughters everyday. And he saw his son running around outside in the garden everyday. He finally wanted to be with his family everyday.

It had already gotten dark and cold at this point, Mr. Kang had brought the hard working boy a jacket and a warm tea. The sun was already long gone, just the small lights from the veranda and from the street shined over towards them. Jungwon was still digging, his once tidy school clothes now full of dirt and dust and drenched in sweat. He couldn’t give up. He knew that. So he kept digging and digging. The moon was fondly watching at the pair below, shining just a tad brighter tonight for them. Short friendly small talk about school went quickly over to heartfelt conversations about life and this and that. Nobody, not even the moon, would’ve thought that the bitter, lonely 87 year old Taehyun and the bright, cheerful 14 year old Jungwon would’ve ever even crossed paths, yet life showed again how unpredictable and full of surprises it could be. This night, a tight bond between the two men was woven. So unexpected but yet so lovely.

The clock already told them it was 6 minutes before midnight when another noice cut through the silent night air. A metallic sound. Gasping, Jungwon threw the shovel away, excitement now rushing through his veins. He fell onto his knees, not caring about the moist soil on his trousers. His hands digged through the last part, brown earth now sticking behind his nails, and moments later, he pulled out a medium sized metal box, securely wrapped in plastic. Jungwon felt like he just won the Olympics, he felt like he did it. He did it…

A quick gaze onto the bench showed him the sleeping old man, now seeming even tinier than before. With shaky steps and a weird feeling of proudness and fulfilment, Jungwon waddled over to the sleeping form, gently waking him up. The box in his hands was tightly in his grasp, not letting go. Mr. Kangs heavy lidded eyes flew open in an instant when he saw the metal box in the boys arms. Tears burned in his thankful eyes, reaching towards it with shaking arms. Everything felt heavy, yet his heart felt the lightest it had felt in a long long time.

“Thank you…so much.” Tears were now unstoppable rolling down his cheeks. It squeezed Jungwons heart, knowing he could make this man happy again, fulfilling his last wish. The both of them moved up to the house again, warmth engulfing them with its now familiar scent. Comfort. The old man reassured the boy to stay but seeing the box being opened, Jungwon felt as if he got to see something way too private. But he stayed, looking over the sniffling mans shoulder when he pulled out a small pink toy dolphin. His hands were shaking. “This was my daughters. It was her favorite toy when she was…two years old.”

Taehyuns heart clenched, seeing all his treasures in front of him. He desperately pressed the small toy against his chest, letting all his emotions in. It was intense, yet it was all he ever wanted. Seeing the familiar drawings of a green giraffe, sitting on a cloud with a family next to it. He could read all their names above the figures. Oh Taehee…

Looking through the photographs, old memories surfaced and made the man tear up even heavier. He didn’t knew how much he really had missed them. It was as if his empty shell was slowly filled again, reliving all of your best and worst moments. He saw a picture on his old friends Hueningkais 18th birthday. All of his friends were there, cake smeared all across your faces, the brightest smiles someone could ever see. The day he had first met you… Another picture had all of your friends sitting around a small bonfire, being cuddled inside blankets. Taehyun saw his younger handsome self smiling unsure into the camera with you sitting beside him. He could only laugh sadly at the memories of your camping trip where he first had kissed you, the guilty feeling just as clear.

“She looks so happy here…” Taehyun noticed with a testy smile, gently touching your face on the picture, seeing you and him laying on a bed, arms tightly slung around your frame, as you held the camera. His large eyes showed nothing but the purest form of love as he looked over to you. Oh he was such a lovesick fool. “You were a pretty couple…” Jungwon whispered, glancing over the handsome young man and the pretty women. He wished to find someone in his life later, he could look at with just as much love as he did. Taehyun nodded, pulling out the next photo. It was the two of you kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower in Paris, big smiles on both of your faces. Taehyun remembered, it was when he courageously decided to fly around half the globe to you to fix your relationship. He didn’t want to give you up, thank god he didn’t. Another photograph showed you holding your first ultrasound picture, tears streaming down your face. You were both so young and already on the way to becoming parents. It was scary, yes it was one of the most scary moments in life but it was all worth it. The next picture showed you in the hospital bed, looking weak, yet happy. Taehyun was kneeing down next to you, his gaze focused on you and the tiny newborn baby in four arms. A tear dropped down onto the photo but he quickly wiped it away. “Our little Taehee…”

The next picture showed a kissing couple dressed in a gorgeous white dress and a neat black suit. The priest between them was smiling fondly at the newlywed couple. On another one he could see the couple dancing in midst of their guests, white petals laying all over the place. Taehyun sobbed, holding a hand over his mouth. Jungwons hand reassuringly squeezed his shoulder. He was there for him. Taehyuns and your parents were dancing next to you, he could see his friend Yeonjun and Beomgyu dancing with each other playfully and many more of their closest circle. It had been so long. And he missed it. It was such a happy memory.

There were other photographs with you being pregnant, both of your baby pictures, your friends and your parents and a ton of little Taehee running around bubbly in her adorable dresses and overalls. Taehyun hadn’t seen these pictures in a while and it tore his heart into a million pieces. The last picture was inside your new house, the house he never could bring over him to leave. You were all sitting on the carpet, smiling into the camera. The little baby boy snuggling closer in his blanket and the girl pressing a soft kiss onto his tiny head. Taehyuns arms were slung around your frame, head laying on your shoulder relaxing. They were so happy. So happy.

He pulled out an edition of your favorite book with a hand written text inside: ‘For Taehee and Taejun- may they find wisdom and happiness in their long lives. From mum and dad’ Taehyun remembered. Oh he remembered everything. You two would always read this book together since your honeymoon, where you discovered it in one of the local bookstores. Since then it had always be your favorite book. And it hurt him seeing his children never got to read it. Their future was just robbed because of one moment. It was unfair. Why did he get to live when they couldn’t? He never understood.

The last thing Taehyun pulled out of the box was the pink letter littered with dozen of glitter stickers. ‘To my love’ stood on top of it in your cursive handwriting. He gulped, knowing exactly this was made for him personally. It was the letter he dreaded reading. The moment he waited for. The reason he wanted to find this box in the first place. His love. Jungwon stood stiff and still next to him, not daring to say a word. With shaking fingers, he carefully opened the envelope without tearing it. He could immediately recognise your pretty handwriting and already teared up when he read over the first sentence. ‘To my dear love Taehyun, whom I always love’ with another nod, he dared reading through the heartfelt letter.

‘So this is where life led us, what? To be quite honest with you, my 17 year old me would’ve never thought about marrying the handsome boy from Hueningkais birthday party, let alone have his children and buy our first house together. Life went wild with us, am I right Tae? But I regret nothing. Not even when I stole your favorite hoodie out of your closet without you knowing. Everyone was so done with my reckless personality and I often felt misunderstood in my younger days as you know. But you just always seemed to just see the best in me. Even when I felt like giving it all up. You were always there for me. And you were the only one to fully understand and accept me how I am. This is something I never told you in person but I can’t remember how life was without you before. In my mind, you were always there and I know that you will always be there for our family in our long future. I hope when you read this, we are both still happily married, watching our children and grandchildren laugh about all our ridiculous photos inside this box. And Taehee, oh she must be so happy to see her favorite toy again haha. Taehyun, you are my best friend, my first love, my first heartache, my true soulmate and the best husband in the whole world. You are and will always be my love, no matter how time will turn our lives around. We are always together. I love you always,

Your dearest wife Y/N

(P.S. don’t worry about getting old, you are still my handsome prince I fell in love with!)’

At this point, Taehyun was a sobbing mess, not caring what the young boy might think of him. This letter had touched his soul, his deepest heart. He felt every word you’ve written just as if it was you whispering each of them into his ear. He never felt the urge that strong before to be by your side, hug you, kiss you all over your face, tell you how beautiful you were and whisper how much he loved you and would forever. His life made sense only with his family by his side. There was nothing left to live anymore for Taehyun. And he knew that for a long time already.

Jungwon in this moment didn’t knew what to do anymore. He felt like he had fulfilled his mission, making the old man happy for a last time. With quiet steps, he took his video camera, he totally had forgotten and put it in his backpack laying on the floor abandoned. It was his sign to leave, let the man dwell in his emotions and memories. He was done here. With careful steps he went closer to the sobbing man again, softly putting his hand on his shoulder. He looked up as if he knew what the boy was about to say.

A small smile was on his wrinkled lips, clenching on the boys heart. He weakly pushed himself up just to pull the sweaty, in dirt covered student into a warm embrace. It was the first hug since ages it felt like. The hug remembered Jungwon of his own grandmother and tears stuck in his throat. He missed her. “Thank you so much, Jungwon. You are a wonderful kid. You’ve fulfilled my dearest wish. I will forever be thankful to you. May you be blessed forever. You were the only one willing to listen. Thank you.” Jungwon nodded in his shoulder, trying not to burst into tears on the spot but failed nevertheless in the end. He was so glad seeing the happy man in front of him, now seeming even younger than before. The deep sunken eyes didn’t seem frightening anymore. They were warm and welcoming. He could see sparkles of youth inside them. Yes, Jungwon did the right thing.

When the clock showed sharply half an hour past midnight, Jungwon bid his farewell to the man, he weirdly would consider his friend now, knowing he could sleep well tonight. Taehyun insisted on him keeping the jacket he gave him as well as one of the pictures inside the box for his school project and as a token of gratitude. On his quiet walk back home, he smiled endearingly down to the old photograph he carefully held in his hand. It was the last picture. Where the family of four smiled happily into the camera, sitting onto the fluffy rug Jungwon recognised now. He would treasure this picture forever. It was a generous gift, knowing how important it had been to Mr. Kang. He was so thankful.

The next day, Jungwon excitedly presented his project in class. Even though his mother yelled at him concerned where he was until this late, he managed to edit the video for his project, tearing up in the process but still felt motivated to keep going. It was important that he made this his best project. Not for him or his grade, no, it was for Mr. Kang. He was determined to change everyone’s horrible opinion about the old man.

It was eye opening for everyone. Even Park Jongsong, the scary older student, couldn’t come up with a counter attack and stared wide eyed at the screen in front of the class. It was freeing, knowing that just a bit of courage and kindness could lead you to such wonderful moments. He changed everyone’s opinion about ‘Killer Kang’. And he managed to make an old sad man happy again.

After school, the kind student hurried over to Mr. Kangs house. In bright daylight, the garden looked like a battlefield with tons and tons of freshly digged soil laying all around. Now with a much happier feeling, Jungwon crossed the chaotic lawn, knocking energetically onto the old wodden door. After a while he still hadn’t heard any steps so he tried knocking again. “Mr. Kang? It’s Jungwon. I wanted to show you the finished project. It went amazing.” The boy excitedly bounced on the balls of his feet, too giddy to stand still. There was still no answer, so Jungwon made his way towards the backyard, now being familiar with every inch. He had a weird feeling in the pit of his stomache.

And when he saw the open veranda, the old man sitting in his mould on the old couch, Jungwon let out a relieved breath. With careful steps not to step inside one of the many holes in the ground, he made its way over to Mr. Kang, not without knocking on the wall outside. Still no answer. Maybe he hasn’t heard it or he was sleeping. Jungwon waddled over to the familiar couch, seeing Mr. Kang sitting in his usual spot with his eyes closed. He looked so peaceful, Jungwon first thought the old man was sleeping tightly. Yet when there was still no answers or reactions from his side and when he noticed there was no movement of his upper body, he understood…

Mr. Kang passed away last night. Tears welled up in Jungwons eyes and he heavily let them flow when he saw all the contents of the metallic box scattered around the small desk in front of him. The photos, sorted into time accuracy, the book untouched, the adorable drawings of his young daughter, the green giraffe smiling cheekily at him. The pink letter was open and the neat handwriting was still the same as yesterday. And in Mr. Kangs hands, layed the pink toy dolphin.

Jungwon went onto his knees beside him on the fluffy carpet, letting his hot tears fall freely without restrictions. He may had lost a friend today but he knew deep down, the old kind man was happily reunited with his family. He had gained everything he lost. And for that…how could Jungwon still be sad?

For now and forever, the courageous 14 year old boy, who acted righteous and kind, carried Kang Taehyuns life story out into the wide world, spread his last words so no one would forget the once mysterious man everyone feared to look at. Kang Taehyun, a man who got everything he wished for and then got it taken away from him. A man, who loved dearly. A man, whose story would never be forgotten.

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4dtk · 4 years

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b’day boy

anon: “hi hi hi hi!!! how’re you!! idk if you’re requests are on but!!! can i request smth where jaehyun thinks the reader forgot abt this bday bc she didn’t text him all day but she actually flys to seoul to see him?? basically johnny helped surprise him!!” quick pretend johnny is living on the same floor as jaehyun for this fic. enjoy anon! :-)

“hey! happy birthday, man,” johnny greets jaehyun, slapping him on the back as the birthday boy answers with a nod and a tired smile.

the dorm’s still quiet in the morning, save for the boiling water and the white noise from beyond the flat. the taller male doesn’t miss the way jaehyun’s smile drops, eyeing his phone a meter away from him in case the plan’s busted.

“hm… hyung, have you heard from (y/n) lately? i haven’t gotten her breakfast text, which is weird…”

jaehyun exits the messaging app for the umpteenth time, seeing if there was anything wrong with the internet or with his phone itself.

johnny shakes his head at the question, going back to prepare his coffee as he struggles to hold back a smile.

“sorry, jae, i’m not so sure about that.”

he saves his phone as it lit up right as you messaged, spamming to the poor guy about nerves and bizarre situations due to your overthinking mind.

(y/n) the homie: ?????? what ???? the hell do i wear!!!!!!!!

(y/n) the homie is typing…

(y/n) the homie: i’m trying to hard rn not to click on jaehyun’s name lol

(y/n) the homie: unnnnf i feel so bad johnny

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: u know for someone that has my contact name in wack ass emojis, i’m not gonna help you fashion-wise

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: don’t worry k, plus it was ur idea!!!! how’s the packing coming along

(y/n) the homie: haha very funny, i am already on the plane mf

“john, hyung, you already made the reservation for tonight yea?” jaehyun asks sleepily, getting up from his comfy position on the table solely to get a chance at johnny’s coffee.

the other hums, having had made reservations for 12 people. sicheng was joining the boys for dinner tonight and taeyong was bringing his girlfriend as well, leaving one last seat for you.

one last text catches johnny’s attention, hoping all will turn out well tonight.

(y/n) the homie: i’m taking off rn, pls follow the plan or i think i’ll actually cry

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: is typing…

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: overdramatic. i will, just focus on getting to korea safe yea

you leave it as that, buckling in and settled in quick well once the plane had reached a certain altitude.

the present you prepared couldn’t leave your mind, debating here and there whether jaehyun would like it or not.

would something go wrong? we didn’t fight before this, did we?

your thoughts travel everywhere, trying your best to relax while you find a film to distract you. soon, you ease into the movie and then, into a comfortable sleep.

it’s almost evening when the captain announces the landing in a few more minutes, bringing you to open the window.

although the clouds seemed to dance around the plane and the deep blue of the sky takes over the day, the sight provides little comfort as you practice your korean in the plane.

you repeat the restaurant’s address in your head even through immigration, steps unknowingly speeding up at how excited you were.

on the other hand, jaehyun gets more and more worried at the lack of texts, eyeing the single one sent early in the morning at 3am, while you bid each other goodbye on facetime. nothing seems to get him out of his daze, having been reminded several times of the car that was waiting for him.

as the manager wishes him a happy birthday, jaehyun could only thank him half-heartedly, staring down at his phone with a frown.

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: oh man you gotta have like a full on dance number when u enter or something. your mans can’t stop sighing at his phone like it’s a magic mirror

(y/n) the homie: oh nooo, crap, i feel so bad. i’m omw, gotta thank u for going over my korean before this flight

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: you learnt it from the best

(y/n) the homie: 🙄🙄🙄

your eyes pass through many different shops and districts, observing the busy streets of korea and it’s liveliness and wondering if you will ever be up to living in such an exciting country.

it was a long drive, your feet unable to stop moving while you kept yourself calm by counting the exchanged money over and over. a notification from @johnnyjsuh lights up your phone and brings you out of your anxiety for a bit, the instagram story filling up the screen as he records the grand restaurant that they would be dining in.

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: you here?

(y/n) the homie: yes, almost. this person right here is very jumpy and tense

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: breathe, i’ll give u the green light soon

(y/n) the homie: kk

with one foot out the cab, you find yourself needing to calm your heart, feeling the familiar heat and adrenaline rush through your body at seeing your boyfriend.

you eye your phone for the last time, entering on johnny’s cue to surprise jaehyun. with his back turned to the event room, your lips naturally curl into a smile as you watch him through the glass panel.

the gentle jazz pouring from the speakers give the atmosphere its intended ambience, as the boys catch up with sicheng and others converse with each other. they keep their cool according to plan as you enter silently, the gift clutched under your arm tightly.

“guess who?”

with your hands over his eyes, you can almost feel his shock.

“what... no way,” jaehyun’s jaw drops, gaining some laughs from the members as he turns around rapidly. his latches onto your smile, the corners of his lips slowly stretching into a grin before you stumble back at his embrace.

jaehyun holds you tight, as if you’d vanish once you left this room. his arms were wound around you all the way by the next minute, leaving you with no opportunity to breathe.

“babe, i can’t breathe,” you blurt out, making the male release you almost immediately before you attack with your own hug, loving how you could feel the rumble of his chest as he giggled.

“was everyone in on this?” you nodded as he turned to his members, most of them donning bright, sly smiles and jungwoo even winking when he met his eyes.

“y’all are incredible,” jaehyun throws his head back in laughter, an arm naturally encircling your waist as you pile your present with the other’s, making your way to your seat after.

dinner is filled with joviality and loud conversation, even coaxing johnny into revealing that he was the ringleader of the plan. the birthday boy applauds his subtlety, bringing the night to a close an hour or two later as each member finishes their share of the cake.

“i’ll come in later, you guys should head back first,” jaehyun states, pressing a kiss to your temple as the others bid you goodbye.

the lean into your boyfriend feels natural, the cool breeze brushing past your face as he interrogates you about you ghosting him.

“i was so worried, i honestly thought you forgot about me.”

you chuckle, “do you think i really could? when there’s valentine decorations everywhere? i wouldn’t forget it even if it wasn’t valentine’s,” you mused, matching up with jaehyun’s steps.

“it would be sad if my own girlfriend couldn’t remember when i was born.”

the two of you fall quiet, enjoying each other’s company as you stroll around the park near the restaurant.

“say, did you like the surprise?”

“like? baby, i loved it,” jaehyun pulls you in, the walk stopped short while he holds your freezing fingers, “thank you.”

you answer in the form of a smile, tippy-toeing to reach his lips halfway as the moon shines on. it settles your heart in familiarity and warmness, never losing that giddy fondness whenever you were with jaehyun.

“i’d travel anywhere to be where you are, jung jaehyun.”

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13uswntimagines · 3 years

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Playing With Fire (Alpha!Emily x Alpha!Lindsey x Omega!Reader)

Request: Alpha!Lindsey x Alpha!Emily x Omega!Reader: Like R used to play for Barça and got close to Mapi León, but it was only bc she protected R from handsy alphas not bc of a mate thing. So, when the US and Spain face off, they reconnect and make each other laugh on the pitch. This irritates R’s alphas and they become more aggressive toward Mapi and more possessive of R. After the match, R takes a moment to be w Mapi, but then she gets dragged away by her alphas. It could be vulnerable? Or imply smut?

2016 was not a good year for you. By the end of the summer, your missed PK had been named as the reason the US lost the Olympics by the media and fans, and your relationship was on the brink of collapse. Every conversation with your alphas turned into a screaming match, and you were tired. Tired of the fighting. tired of the fans saying you weren’t good enough. Tired of the sideways glances from your teammates.

So, when your manager told you Barcelona wanted you, you jumped at the opportunity to go and make a new, untarnished name for yourself.

Your mates were not so thrilled. You all said things you didn’t mean, and closing the door as you left that night felt like the final nail in the coffin of your relationship. You held it together as you navigated the airport alone, part of you hoping they would come despite changing their relationship statuses on all their social media. They didn’t, and by the time you landed in Spain you were a mess and the entire world knew you were no longer a National team member or Emily and Lindsey’s omega.

Your first months with Barça were eye-opening. Yes, you had lost your relationship, but you had also gained a friend. Mapi was assigned as your roommate, and the two of you had clicked right off the bat. She held you when you cried at night, distracted you when they were posting on social media, taught you Spanish slang, and helped you put the broken pieces of yourself back together again.

The team had also embraced you with open arms, quickly becoming more like the family you had left behind. However, the other teams weren’t so welcoming. With your mates basically disowning you, it was like Iowan season had been called on you. Alphas would target you, and allow their tough to linger far too long after a tackle.

You had tried to keep your head down and ignore it, but your new team wouldn’t stand for it. Mapi would scent Mark you before every match, making sure that anyone who came close to you thought you were claimed again (for the really bad matches she would leave a dark mark just visible on your neck during halftime).

Word spread like wildfire and suddenly you were getting calls from the mates that had all but disowned you. You had scoffed at first, blatantly refusing to talk to them. They had ignored you for months, so why shouldn’t you do the same for them? Coincidentally it was Mapi who would get you to talk to them again (how she had gotten them to show up at your apartment you didn’t know, but that was a story for another time).

Yes, you had worked everything out with your alphas, and they were happy that Mapi had protected you.

But, that didn’t mean they liked her. Jealousy was an ugly beast that was difficult to kill. A beast both of your alphas could feel risings its head even with you wedged between them in the tunnel, giggling at the Spanish alpha.

“A tu vejez te estás volviendo lenta” (you’re slow in your old age) you laughed, sticking your tongue out at the woman. Emily’s arms tightened around your waist, as Mapi took a step towards you,

“Patita cuidadosa, Esta anciana te va a patear el culo” (careful ducky, this old lady will kick your ass). She hummed, wagging a finger in your face.

“En tus sueños, abuelita,” (in your dreams granny) You cackled, rolling your eyes and winking at Lindsey (who leaned in to kiss your cheek).

You weren’t blind. They were incredibly protective over you, and sometimes that protectiveness was fun to play with. Mapi was your friend, and they knew that. It was just difficult not to be jealous when Mapi was the one to help you pick up the pieces they had left behind.

“You know we love it when you speak Spanish babe, but we kinda have a game to win,” Emily murmured, nuzzling her nose into your cheek as the lines started to move forward. Lindsey’s hand on your arm nudged you on and you sighed, pouting at the Spanish alpha.

“Vaya Patita, Hablaremos más tarde,” (go ducky, we’ll talk later) She nodded, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

You pushed off Emily, trudging forward in your spot between Alex and Ali. Emily and Lindsey hung back, glaring at the Spanish alpha.

“Stay away from my mate,” they said, slow and deadly. Mapi shrugged them off. She understood their jealousy better than anyone else. She would probably feel the same way if their positions were reversed, but the pheromones coming from your mates were uncalled for.

“Worry about your own goal and leave me to worry about her,” Her lips tugged into a smile that had too many teeth to be nice, and she released a puff of her own scent.

****

You would say that the game was going amazingly. An assessment that was heavily influenced by the ball that had just left your foot slamming into the back of the net.

You raced towards your own goal, your arms outstretched in celebration, and right into the arms of one Mapi León (much to the ire of your mates).

“Estupenda meta patita!” (Great goal ducky) She cheered, lifting you up and spinning you around.

“Gracias, No podría haberlo hecho sin tu defensa,” (thank you. I couldn’t have done it without your defense) You laughed as she set you on your feet. She paused, sending a glance over your shoulder, to where Emily and Lindsey were staring at the two of you.

Mapi immediately let you go, holding you at arm's length as she sent your mates a short nod. She knew how difficult watching you with her was for them, and how you liked to poke the bear so to speak.

You turned to follow her gaze, rolling your eyes at the way Emily and Lindsey were basically pacing a circle around you.

“Vete a abrazar a tus amores antes de que me maten, pequeño mocoso,” (go hug your mates before they kill me, little brat). The Spanish alpha said softly. You hacked out a laugh, beginning to pull away anyway.

“No te preocupes, deja que los cachorros esperen. Es más divertido así” (don’t worry about the puppies, let them wait. It’s more fun that way,)

“Incluso los cachorros se envidan” (even puppies get jealous) She said seriously, giving you a stern look. You rolled your eyes again, beginning to saunter off.

She shook her head. You were definitely one of a kind, that was for sure. One of the few omegas she knew who would go toe to toe with alphas and tease the crap out of them to get what you wanted. They were just as whipped for you as you were for them.

You were in engulfed in the warm arms of your mates the second you were away from the Spanish alpha. Lindsey buried her nose in your neck, skimming over your scent gland

“Great goal babe!!” She breathed into your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Spectacular. Definitely, something that deserves a treat later,” Emily added, her warm body enclosing you from behind, her lips finding the other side of your neck.

You sighed, your head rolling back onto Emily’s shoulders. God they could turn you to putty so easily. Their dominant pheromones wrapped around you like a blanket. You smiled playfully. “Hmm, I know what you two are trying to do,”

“Is it working?” Emily asked, her teeth grazing the edge of her mating mark. A smirk pulled across your features, and you abruptly pulled away.

“No, we have a game to win,”

*****

The cheers around the stadium as the final minute of added time wound down was defining. Your team had comfortably beaten the Spanish Women’s National team, 5 to 1. You were particularly happy because 2 of those goals happened to be your own.

You cheered excitedly, running right into the arms of your tallest alpha, giggling as she lifted you into the air.

“We wonnnn!!” You yelled, using Lindsey’s shoulders to boost yourself even higher in the air. She held your hips tighter, pulling you into a hug and burying her nose in your hair.

“All thanks to you baby girl,” She mumbled into your hair, breathing in the exciting pheromones you were releasing with a smile. It was intoxicatingly sweet, like walking into a Krispy Kreme while the donut sign was on (though not nearly as sweet as it was during your heat).

She suppressed a growl at the thought of anyone besides her and Emily getting to bask in your scent. They knew you had been playing on their protective instincts, you liked it when they got possessive, but they were nearing the edge of their tolerance level for the Spanish alpha.

“You and Emmy helped too,” You hummed into her collarbone, a smirk forming on your lips. You never did know how to quit while you were ahead.

“But you are the one who scored the goals,” Emily added, hugging you from behind, casually making what everyone on the team referred to as a Soran sandwich. You allowed them to hold you for a few seconds, before an idea formed in your brain. They were being slightly possessive, scent-marking you and all, but it wasn’t enough.

“Hmm, speaking of goals, I need to go thank Mapi for her defense again,” You said, your head popping up over Lindsey’s shoulder and sticking your tongue out at the Spanish alpha who was smart enough to stay away from you.

“Yeah, no,” Lindsey huffed, the arms around your waist holding you impossibly closer to her, her nose nudging where her mating mark sat proudly on your neck.

“You know it’s not nice to tease,” Emily added, her teeth nipping at your ear and skimming down the collum of your throat. You closed your eyes tightly, their scents and touch threatening to pull you under. Your lips ticked up, your hands traveling down their bodies and landing on their growing bulges. This was turning them on as much as it was turning you on.

“Well, what are the two of you going to do about it?”

Suddenly you weren’t standing between the alphas anymore and instead were thrown over Lindsey’s shoulder (totally not enjoying the spectacular view of her ass you had).

“If you want attention, you don’t have to flirt with our mortal enemy,” Emily smirked, her fingers hooping your chin as Lindsey carried you deeper into the stadium.

“She’s the one who convinced me to listen to your dumb asses,” You rolled your eyes, placing your elbow on Lindsey's back and using your palm to support your chin so you could look Emily in the eyes.

“Well I think our asses have something very important to take care of,” Lindsey laughed patting your butt and Emily wiggled her eyebrows.

It was going to be a long (fun) night.

#soran x reader #soran imagine #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines

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majimemegoro · 3 years

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I uh kinda went wild on this here for some reason sorry, I didn’t know you could put this much in asks? Yakuza 1 has a pretty short plot and changing some of this stuff mostly just jumps plot forward and skips more menial tasks of trying to find info when these people can actually talk, so super drastic changes are more likely to happen down the line game wise really.

Y1 role swaps for Kiryu & Nishiki and Majima & Saejima I think are largely reliant on whether each side swaps yakuza backstories I feel, do we get a one eyed Mad Dragon of Dojima(Shimano?) who’s been to the hole, and vise versa maybe Shimano’s(Dojima’s?) Hannya who helped a certain real estate agent in the 80s? Did Nishiki do the hit and Saejima kill their boss (whomever) who grabbed Yasuko? And Majima takes the fall like Kiryu did so Saejima could try to help his sister?

Bc then I see most of the game starting out similarly (less aggressive Saejima family tho, doesn’t loose it as much as Nishiki bc he isn’t swayed that easily by people, but he’s still putting up an aggressive front in hopes it makes others leave his family alone while he tries to find his sister), maybe more helpful Kiryu in majima’s role, bc he’s always a sweetie under the surface no matter what he’s been through- even with a few screws loose and much more tired, Yasuko (Yumi/Mizuki) with Haruka existing probably (no romance with either of the boys here), if we swap Shimano and Kazama then I see Shimano playing a more assholish take on the parental Kazama role, if it’s still Kazama I can see things being very different bc he probably likes saejima better and sees majima as a more reckless and less competent (aka kiryu favoritism over Nishiki scenario) so likely he’s working with Saejima but unsure he can truely leave the clan to him bc he hasn’t revealed what happened to Yasuko and by this point the damage control might be too much of an issue to properly account for, Saejima figures Mizuki is just some third party lady that Kazama got to help with the plan bc connections. But Majima still has use in another avenues to keep people’s attention off Saejima’s parts in the plan and Shimano’s efforts to power grab, but before that conversation kicks in Kazama’s shot by probably a shimano or omi guy and then majima plays Kiryu’s part finding Haruka and trying to figure out what’s up with Saejima and where Yasuko went. Then Saejima spills the beans on his part of the plan (after a fight between the two in Serena bc of course they fight) and then stuff jumps to trying to find Kazama, delivered via Nishida playing Shinji’s parts, and that plays out similarly to original except saejima and majima both show up with Haruka to the dock and saejima gets pissed at not being told what had happened to his sister till now. (Yasuko also either is mostly unaware her brother’s looking for her, or thinks Saejima knows about her already and just hasn’t done anything about it, either way she’s not happy on how that was handled when brought into the loop bc things would have been different if they’d just told her he wasn’t trying to keep his distance and was actively looking for her) But since Shimano attacks and Kazama gets to die in their arms the two don’t really get to address any of that because Kazama just gave them bigger bombshells to deal with, Saejima’s the chairman nomination here. If shimano and Kazama are switched here then he’s unapologetic as fuck as he dies (probably not by actively protecting Haruka but just happened to be blocking her anyway, she’s an asset after all to his plans) and it’s majima for next chairman bc he was gonna manipulate him probably if he hadn’t died. Then on to the ending, jingu shoots saejima to get him out of the fight and he has to retreat with Yasuko and Haruka, much to his displeasure, and majima does the tower fights with jingu, everything’s fine until jingu comes back down during their reunion stuff and maybe mortally wounds Yasuko or maybe Saejima, but regardless he gets blown up and all three of them try to do something stupid with the bomb so it cancels each other out perhaps? And maybe they all get to live because no one lets the others sacrifice themselves bc they each wanted to do it. Neither bro wants the chairmanship regardless of nomination and dump it on Terada to dip and live as a family instead. Leaving more people alive at the end of the day (unless you really want to kill off saejima and Yasuko) and the rest of the games mostly set up the same but Haruka gets two uncles and her mom.

Date is probably there throughout the story but his role doesn’t change so I didn’t mention him, he’s just helping where he can and trying to get to the bottom of everything. Similarly Kiryu’s doing basically the same thing Majima originally did but was nicer to Haruka and didn’t even pretend he wanted to kidnap her in that situation and just says sometimes you can’t avoid orders and maybe does a half hearted fight for appearances, he’d tell Majima more of what’s going on with his boss but the knife thing still happens and he’s out for the rest of the game. Shangri la is unaffected bc nishida isn’t hiding from Saejima and can tell them where Kazama/Shimano is straight out (he was still a measure to keep an eye on Saejima but his role was mostly unneeded bc Saejima wasn’t trigger happy like Nishiki). Haruka gets nicked by the snake flower triad all the same bc the dude’s unaffected by the yakuza switches. The florist might come into play to find Haruka in that situation only basically. You basically get Saejima accompanying Majima through the plot post their bar brawl aside from a few times he has to slip away to take care of other yakuza business briefly so majima and Haruka gets to wander around and bond (and get kidnapped twice). Stardust gets its opening plot beats only really, as its unneeded after. Yasuko is much more active as Mizuki than Yumi was but I’m not sure what that actually means in terms of the plot. Nishida takes over for Saejima’s family post game here keeping them in line and preventing them from becoming the mess Nishiki’s becomes in the games, though there will be issues in the future for the family bc of certain members regardless. Reina is still running her bar and with a crush on Saejima or Majima? and friend to Yasuko. She gets to be supporting cast and doesn’t die bc there’s no reason for her to. Tho I guess you might be able to switch her and mirei park if you wanted as well in the long run. Or maybe not if you want to swap Kaoru and Mirei considering Majima/Kiryu swap, I guess it depends on the swaps. As a Nishiki/Majima swap would make Reina/Mirei swap work better.

I think I have an alt take too for if it’s based around majima being the one taking Nishiki’s place rather than Saejima, that one Majima does something similar to y4 and pretends longer in order to try and bait Saejima into killing him for the perceived betrayal of loosing track of Yasuko and everything, maybe even going as far as dying in the explosion bc his guilt, leaving Saejima and Haruka the only ones alive as Yasuko was shot by Jingu. Nishiki or Kiryu in Majima’s role wouldn’t change much plot wise but lead to different dynamics between Saejima and them especially going forward, Nishiki’s much less a punchy fight at every moment man and more shooty as the Mad Koi tho so he’d definitely be a different fight

I think too hard on these things.

anon, I mean this very, very seriously: please write a story

#OR EVEN MULTIPLE AUs #i want this so bad aaaa #saejima taiga #majima goro #kiryu kazuma #nishiki #i love so many things about this but somehow i think i like saejima in kiryu's role and getting the chairman nomination best #aaaa #yasuko getting to do things is PRIME as well

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yuthoe · 3 years

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Day 6: Muse (MONSTA X: Lee Minhyuk)

REPOST BC IT DIDN'T SHOW UP IN THE TAGS LAST TIME

i was wondering when i'd finally miss a day of this challenge HAHAHA, but here it iiiisssss! today's prompt is

Day 6: Artist & Model

from this prompts list. i cheated a bit, using a short story i submitted to a creative writing class in college, but i edited quite a bit of it (in the original, the guy is bound and the artist is a woman) bc i wanted to make the reader as gender neutral as i could.

this story is kinda my baby, but at the same time im tired of looking at it by myself and letting it rot unseen in my college files lol. it's probably still horrible tho, even if i did get a relatively high grade for that class HAHAHAHA. i'm putting all of it under the cut bc we going RIGHT TO IT

PAIRING: Lee Minhyuk x reader. GENRE: smut (bc there's bondage and ~feelings~), fic. WARNINGS: bondage, ropes, gagging, mild suggestiveness. WORD COUNT: 1,501.

---

Minhyuk loops the rope one last time around your wrists, the white cotton startlingly bright against your skin. The series of crisscrosses start from your elbows down, secured with a small knot you can easily pull on if you want to unravel the whole thing. Your arms are pulled back behind you, looking almost suspended in movement; the rope gives no leeway, no space to move even an inch.

“How is it?” Minhyuk asks, moving on all fours on the bed to check for any signs of discomfort on his friend’s face. It’s almost a relief to be looking away from the ropes, if he’s being honest. If he weren’t so worried about this being your first time with bondage, he’d probably just sit there and stare at the intersecting lines and patterns the ropes make, the way they dig into the plush of your arms. “Are you good?” he asks again, swallowing.

You shift and squirm, the sheets rustling underneath you as you adjust your position. You open and close your hands, move your shoulders to try and dislodge the ropes, but they won’t budge. While Minhyuk was securing you in the bond, you didn’t feel a pull at all—he was very gentle, and you were even worried the ties would be a little loose.

Obviously, that isn’t the case now, as here you are—donning shorts and a tank top, a gag in your mouth, and your arms securely tied at your back.

Your eyes meet Minhyuk’s and you nod, impressed and a little scared that your friend group’s resident funny man is the kinkiest person you know because, with the way the ropes are tied, the way he walked you through the whole process… it’s like he’s done it before, and multiple times.

But while the sudden realization is scary, it is also very, very hot, so you’re not complaining.

“All right, just stay like that,” Minhyuk says, and you watch him hop off the bed and scurry to the corner of the room to drag the broken-in armchair across the floor. He shifts it this way and that, just out of your field of vision, miniscule adjustments that he insists helps him sketch better. It isn’t the first time you’ve modeled for your partner, so this is all familiar territory.

The ropes and the cloth between your teeth are new, though.

You inhale deeply. Exhale. You try to make yourself comfortable in the pose Minhyuk directed you into, sitting with one leg tucked underneath the other like a mermaid. You’re definitely gonna be sore later.

The springs squeak in the armchair, and you see Minhyuk tucking himself into the seat while flipping to an empty page on his sketchbook. You ground yourself on the familiar sight; he really is pretty, with the sharp jaw and piercing eyes. Sometimes you wonder what it would be like to have any artistic talents, so you could draw him too. Alas, the best you can do to replicate his image is a stick man.

“You still good, Y/N?” he asks, and without waiting for an answer, starts sketching. You hear the faint scratches of the pencil on paper, some light and long, some quick and short with a fuller sound.

It’s quiet, as Minhyuk is always quiet when he draws. He told you once that the silence is calming, the sounds of nature and graphite on paper helping him concentrate. You don’t know how long it’s been since he started sketching—your phone is on the desk at the opposite wall, and the clock’s batteries have run out.

The rhythmic scratching of Minhyuk’s sketching overtakes your senses, makes you doze off. You only notice when you start drooping forward, and you have to stop yourself from plummeting face-first into the mattress.

You shake your head, shift slightly to wake yourself up, and—oh.

Shivers wrack your body. Your arms, stiff with disuse, tingle as the ropes dig into your flesh, and you tense as if trying to break free of the bonds. You feel the resistance of the rope and try to breathe in deeply, keeping the oxygen in your lungs before breathing out slowly. Your back curves forward as you exhale and you struggle keeping in the moan that threatens to erupt from the feel of the rope.

Minhyuk notices the movement and pauses his sketching, moving his canvas out of the way to peek at you. “You okay there, Y/N?”

You take in another deep breath and nod frantically, still facing the direction of the desk, still sitting there how he wants, obedient and pliant.

The next thing you know, the hair that’s fallen into your face is brushed away, and you lift your head to meet Minhyuk’s concerned face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

A shaky nod.

“Really?”

Another nod, more resolved.

“We can stop if you want.”

You shake your head.

Minhyuk purses his lips, weighing whether or not to continue, and you feel a little guilty for worrying him, but you’re overwhelmed!

Finally he sighs. “Think you can wait like, five minutes? I’m almost done, babe.”

You let out a muffled “mhm”.

As soon as Minhyuk steps off the bed, you take another deep breath to compose yourself.

God, his fingers in your hair felt nice. Has it really been that long since you had any physical contact? It took everything in you to not lean into his touch, to not let out a sound, to not disobey him and keep still.

You close your eyes and crack your stiff neck, trying to relax once again. You will your breathing to slow and your body to move back into position, long enough for Minhyuk to finish the sketch. But with each second that passes, with each scratch of graphite that reaches your ears, it gets harder and harder to keep composed.

You can feel yourself sweat, and your thighs are shaking and tired from keeping your position. The rope restricting you feels tighter, its fibers digging into your skin—or is that just your imagination? Has it been five minutes or five hours? You’re not sure.

You take another breath—Is Minhyuk done yet?

The bed dips and you open your eyes. Minhyuk’s dark brown eyes look back at you, satisfied and grateful.

“You were really good, baby, thank you,” he says softly. A hand cups the back of your head and the other pulls down the cloth gag, leaving it to hang around your neck. Minhyuk leans forward and quickly kisses you on the lips.

“Can I get out of these now?” you said, voice hoarse and scratchy from disuse. You try swallowing spit, but it only makes your mouth drier.

Minhyuk snorts. “The sketch looks great, thanks for asking,” he jokes and rolls his eyes. “No joke, though, you look really beautiful like this.” He slowly, gently lifts you up, giving your aching thighs a reprieve and settling you on his lap. You feel his warm hands rub and massage your tender flesh as he smiles at you. “Kinda wanna just have my way with you right now.”

You whine, “You’re killing me here!” and he just answers with a laugh. You squirm, trying to loosen the ropes, but your muscles are jelly. You’re still wound up from being in the ropes too long; you just want to get out of them and hold him again, press kisses into his face and run your hands through his silky hair.

Minhyuk isn’t helping either—his hands are everywhere, squeezing at your waist, running over your still trapped arms, cradling your neck, slipping under your shirt. His lips are at your neck, pressing kisses up your jaw and your ears, further amplifying your need to just touch with your own two hands.

Is this what the girls feel like in all those pornos? The heat, the haze, the feeling of feeling everything and nothing at the same time?

“Man, you knew what you were doing when you asked me to model for you,” you say, voice catching on a moan as he lightly nips at your ear.

Minhyuk chuckles and pulls away, smooths a thumb across your lip. You tremble in his hold. “So…? Wanna have a go? We can just try it out, but if you want to stop in the middle, we’ll stop.”

Would you even want to, though? In the event that you say yes and play out a scene, would you really, voluntarily choose to stop?

Do you want to get out of these ropes? Yes. But do you also want to see what Minhyuk is going to do with you in these ropes?

… Also yes.

There isn’t a doubt right now that you’re really, really absurdly curious as to what Minhyuk has planned for you.

You take a deep, shaky breath and lick your lips, anticipation clear in your eyes. “Okay,” you say, letting him take the reins. But still, you press closer and give him a kiss as you whisper, “I’m all yours.”

#kdiarynet #monsta x smut #monsta x minhyuk #minhyuk #lee minhyuk #monsta x minhyuk scenario #monsta x minhyuk imagine #minhyuk scenario #minhyuk imagine #monsta x scenario #monsta x imagine #fic: mine #fic: minhyuk #fic: spicy #theme: may trope mayhem 2021

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aquaticalay · 4 years

Text

I Know You Forever (Din Djarin x Reader)

Summary : Din thinks you deserve better. You ask him why.

Warning : mentions of blood, is fluff a warning?

Word count : 1.4k

Note : I found out that the Mando'a equivalent to 'I love you' is 'I Know You Forever' when directly translated. And I think it's beautiful. I literally spent a lot of time looking at Mando'a phrases for prompts

Also, it's good to be posting here again! I decided to write a bunch of one shots before committing to a series again:)

I've reuploaded this bcs it didn't show in the tags

"You don't deserve this," Din whispered under his breath. The words were so weak from exhaustion, it was almost impossible to make out. Not to mention the distorted layer the modulator added to them.

"What do you mean?" You hummed, and it made Din somewhat furious. He did not need a mirror to tell that his face was fuming red. He wasn't angry, though. He was frustrated. How could you not see yourself the way he did? How dare you think you deserve a life of violence, when you could settle down and spend your days safe and sound?

You were sat on the floor of the Razor Crest after a rather violent encounter with a band of pirates, stitching a cut on your bicep. There were no bacta left, so good ol' needle and thread would have to do. The wound had been gushing with blood just moments earlier, but a piece of bundled cloth and pressure did wonders to stop the bleeding.

"You deserve better," he said, leaning on the stairs that lead to the cockpit, arms crossed across his chest. You could tell by the way his voice was briefly cut short by his own shallow breath that he was struggling to keep his own voice monotonous— that there was far deeper meaning behind the seemingly emotionless sentence.

"Do I?"

Fuck. You.

Din hated this. He hated the way you toyed with your words. He hated that you were able to force him out of his shell, to coax his intentions and strip layers down, piece by piece, until it was bare to the very core. He hated that you always knew how to get around his secrecy.

He hated that he had a strong desire churning in his gut to open himself up to you.

Whether it was your fault or his, he did not know.

"You do," he managed to say through gritted teeth. The child was asleep in his bunk, so he did not have an excuse to get out of this conversation, like he sometimes did when things got too... intense.

"What—" you winced, cutting the final thread,— "What makes you think I deserve better, but you don't?"

Gently, you cleaned up the excess blood and tidied the medpac. Your bruised fingers danced on the box so graciously. On their own, no one would've thought the destruction they could bring. But if they saw who those hands belonged to— if they saw you— suddenly the cuts and the discolored patches of skin from the wounds along your revealed skin made sense. Suddenly they were able to link the precision of your hands to the ferocity behind your eyes.

Unlike him, you don't hide under beskar. Your battle scars were on display as if you were proudly showing the universe how much you can take— how much you've been through.

They were like spoils of war. They told your story. Unlike Din, who would rather keep every single story he had buried deep within his heart a secret.

Din stayed quiet. He didn't really know how to answer your question. You've been in the game for as long as he has. You chose this life, like him.

"I don't... know," he managed to say.

But he knew. He always knew why.

He loved you. That was something that took a long time for him to come to terms with, but he finally did.

The truth is, you didn't necessarily deserve a better life than him. He just wants you to have a better life.

One of these days, you'll get hurt. It happens to everyone he has ever worked with; it was a pattern he simply could not ignore anymore. And if you go where he can't follow... he can't possibly live with himself.

"Then quit saying that, tin man," You chuckled wholeheartedly, "I'm a big girl. I can make my own decisions."

You grabbed a metal railing and pulled yourself up, only to get light headed and stumble across the floor.

You cursed under your breath. You should have expected that. You had lost a lot of blood, after all.

"Whoa," Din managed to catch you before you fell, holding your waist steady, "Easy."

"Stupid blood loss," you managed to crack a smile. Looking into his dark T-visor, you could only imagine he was smiling with you.

Even if he was, you doubt he'd ever tell.

"You need to rest," he said softly, his thumb circling ever so slightly against your waist. You held on to his shoulder and pushed yourself away, balancing yourself to stand up on your own.

"I will."

"Now," he said sternly.

You looked straight into where his eyes would be behind the helmet. He looked so... cold. All the damn time. If it weren't for the little things— like how his body would relax when you'd place your hand on his shoulder, or how he had held you up just now, you wouldn't assume he was organic underneath.

"What?" Din asked, confused. He caught you staring.

"Nothing," you slumped back down to the floor, taking his advice on resting. "You're just— you seem cold," you blurted your thoughts out.

"I'm not," Din said, a little too defensively. His voice cracked at the thought that the only person he ever loved perceived him as heartless.

You gave him a lopsided grin. "You're not," you agreed, "You just seem like it. If you were, you wouldn't have taken the child under your care—" you paused, trying to find the words to say next, "—If you were, you wouldn't have thought I deserved better."

But you do, Din wanted to say, you deserve the stars and moons, you deserve the universe, but you settled for this... life.

Why would any one in the right mind do that?

But he decided to keep his words to himself this time.

You watch as the quiet man slowly sat down across from you. He might not admit that he was exhausted, but you saw that he didn't hold himself as rigidly as he normally would.

He was just as tired as you were, minus the blood loss.

"I care about you," you admitted shyly, "I really do. And if I deserve anything, I deserve a lifetime of fighting by your side. I want a lifetime of fighting by your side."

Din froze. This wasn't the first you had left him speechless.

"Din?" You called, trying to get a response out of him. His name rolled off your tongue like syrup, and it was only more meaningful because you only ever addressed him by his birth name in private.

"It would be my honor," Din finally said, "To fight by your side for the rest of my life."

Din had no fear of death. Part of being a Mandalorian is having a resolute acceptance of death. He knew that death was a matter of how and not if, so it made sense to him to be more concerned about dying a warrior's death than death itself. He was fully aware that all things age, all things die. Everything that was formed by the universe becomes one with it again, someway, somehow.

But you make him want to cling to life a little longer.

"Din?" You called out again.

"Yes?"

"I know you forever," you hummed sincerely, leaning forward and mindlessly tracing your fingers on the cheek of his helmet.

And Din swore his heart skipped a beat.

He knew you had bought a Mando'a to Galactic Basic dictionary that included common phrases at a junkyard as a joke, and he knew you started reading it in your spare time. He assumed you were just bored. He didn't expect...

Unable to read Din's silence, you smiled sadly. "You don't have to say it back. I just wanted you to know—"

"I— I know you forever, too." He cut you off. Despite the crack in his voice, there was no hesitation.

Gently, he cupped your face, bringing you closer to him as he pressed his helmet, where his forehead would be, against yours, your warm skin nearly sizzling against the cool beskar. Din closed his eyes at first, but when he opened them a few moments later, he saw that your eyes were shut, your facial features more relaxed than he had ever seen. You melted into his arms, and suddenly he understood why people feared death.

Because now, he had you and the child. He had something to live for.

-end

#din djarin imagines #din djarin imagine #din djarin x reader #din djarin #mando imagines #mando imagine #mando x reader #mando #the mandalorian imagines #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #star wars imagine #star wars imagines #mandalorian

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aqvarius · 4 years

Note

Top 5 fav hlitf cgs?

thanks for this ask!! ahh it was so hard to narrow it down to 5 but i will try my best (with some bonuses bc... how could i not). i’m not going to include vip room CGs here even tho there are a couple of them that i adore too. also i can’t believe i’m not including the soma coming out of the shower CG that i love enough to have made my icon for a very long time now... but that just goes to show how much i love these ones.

5. are you bullying my aide?

okay so i’m cheating right off the bat and decided to group these two in one category bc they’re like conceptually the same CG lmao. i made a post before about loving instructors getting furious at people trying to hurt you in the sunset. and the fact that two of my absolute fave LIs of all time get these gorgeous fury CGs makes me infinitely happy alskdfls. the sad thing is that there’s an error in soma’s route so the CG doesn’t actually appear in-game... anyway you know i love seeing cool love interests get mad so these two CGs are a perfect depiction of that.

4. i’ll take compensation

who doesn’t love this scene and CG!! and the in-game version as well where his eyes are open bc he was surprised. i love it so much. that entire ending was so good, with the mc being the Best Senpai Ever? and she tries to blow his socks off with a kiss but then he just grabs her butt and goes in deeper? we stan a tie-grabbing mc. i only wish there was a CG for that elevator kiss too in the sequel(?).

3. it reminded me of ugly cat

honestly i love all of goto’s s3 CGs bc they are all just so pretty and i love the one as well where tsugaru is joking about him and usa being a couple and goto gets pissed. but this one is just so... pure and soft???? it’s so rare to see goto all relaxed and smiley and i just love it soooo much. also does anyone else find that his smile in this CG is so similar to chiba’s smiling sprite? ughhh this is so freaking cute i physically can’t look at it for too long otherwise i get overwhelmed with feelings. oh and also that cat is so weird looking lmao

2. please... let me be with you

one of my favourite moments of all time. look how stunned kaga looks (but also... how pretty is he here... and how pretty is she.... season 3 CGs are so top quality). the fact that she’s hopped up on painkillers but they’re just fading off so she’s already starting to feel pain again and kaga is already kind of angsting over everything that happened on the case and then tsugaru is taking her home while kaga can’t even speak to her bc of office rules. and she just runs back to the office by herself even tho she’s already starting to feel the pain in her gunshot wound and just bursts into the office and yanks his cigarette out of his mouth and kisses him? and says even if you don’t want me, i want to be with you. honestly this whole moment is like freaking kdrama level dramatic and romantic and i love it so much. it’s like... the perfect moment combined with the prettiest CG. kaga’s pov of this scene makes it EVEN BETTER because he’s literally smitten with her, like he wants her so badly and then she just magically appears in front of him and kisses the life out of him, just as he was thinking about how much he needs her. right at the moment when he’s feeling the most empty, the most hollow, like his entire career in public safety amounted to nothing, she comes back to him. and then there’s that line of his, where he talks about love so fierce that he can’t breathe around it filling his chest and honestly it gets me every single time (also bc i can relate to that feeling lmao) but basically kaga/mc is my favourite couple and this moment and CG are just like... exactly what i love the most about them as a pair. ALSO i love her hair and that gold pin hahaha i want it.

1.5 did i or did i not say you were forbidden from acting rashly?

how could i not include this one as a bonus? i’ve been in love with this CG from the very first time i laid eyes on it back in 2018. no context (at the time i think soma’s graduation hadn’t even come out in l365 so we hadn’t even seen his short hair sprite in the intl app), no idea what was even happening in this scene, and yet i was immediately struck by the dangerous look in his eye and that little smile, and also just like... getting to see him in a tshirt and hoodie is so rare? i’m p certain that outfit is just recycled ayumu sprite’s casual clothes. anyway, knowing the context behind this CG makes it 10000x better for me. i wrote this in my unpublished review of soma’s battlefield route but i genuinely believe we’re seeing this CG from his mc’s eyes and that’s what tokito really looked like in that moment - with soma’s face, his hair, his expressions, his hands, his voice. our poor, sweet mc had been suffering for so long to the point where even toru and ayumu noticed that she hadn’t smiled in forever and were trying to cheer her up (and momose too later!!). for me, this CG represents the absolutely heartbreaking sense of delusion that soma’s mc feels in this route, and the way that she keeps trying so hard to project soma onto tokito because of her grief. i genuinely felt like in that moment, she physically saw soma coming to her rescue, like her desires manifest into a delusion. also, this CG comes at an absolutely amazing time bc we had been deprived of seeing soma for like 60% of the route and then we get this CG and suddenly everything is better for a short moment, and then everything goes back to normal and you really get a sense of how upsetting life has been for his mc.

1. come now, love. tell me what you desire

i love this CG. i love it so so so so so much. firstly, i love the look of it. both soma and his mc just look so attractive?? soma’s muscles?? in his shoulders and back especially?! his mc has commented on his shoulderblades and back muscles before which have been honed through kendo practice so i’m very happy to get to see them. the actual text says that the mc is naked but here she’s still wearing a sundress, but she just looks so pretty and like she’s feeling unbelievably good? anyway i scream bc even soma’s hands look good and they still kept that one piece of hair that he has that sticks up lmao what’s gravity anyway? anyway, beyond the sensuality of the image (and also his tongue... and his sweat...), there’s just so much meaning behind it? like yes, it’s very hot and sensual and the dialogue that goes with this scene is unbelievably sexy, but this scene is just super meaningful bc it’s part of their recovery as a couple. they’re on this secret holiday in okinawa and they’re reconnecting after their trauma and idk it’s just so intimate. we really get to see the mc from soma’s eyes and we get to see how he is the only one who can see her weakness behind that strong face of hers, but also how he sees her strength in recovery? the way he describes that scene where she’s in this gorgeous white swimsuit with a sheer coverup and then picks a brown swim float so she can sit atop it on the waves and say “don’t i look like a doughnut?” despite having a literal near-death experience in the sea not too long before honestly had me falling head over heels in love with her, and it really made me understand exactly what he loves about her, and how much he just adores her. anyway this is me gushing over that special story, but what i mean is that the ending of his battlefield in combination with this special story sets up the beginning of soma and his mc’s healing as a couple, and it culminates in this scene. soma is kind of similar to kaga in the sense that they both actually demonstrate their feelings the most honestly through physical means, and here you can just see how palpable the desperation is. they desire each other so intensely and intimately and having this moment for the two of them to share is so significant for their recovery. you can just see how much soma needs to show her that he’s here, he’s really, physically here with her, and he’ll never leave her alone ever again, and he’s so sorry for all the pain she’s had to go through. you can see the way he’s telling her that with his body and with the way he talks to her and is just so himself in bed. there are really parallels between their first night together and this scene (mostly like... him asking her to tell him what she wants lol) and it just makes me so EMOTIONAL.

YOU THOUGHT THIS WAS THE END?

no, that was just my top five solo (or li/mc) CGs. i also need to give my top five fave group/multiple character CGs lmao.

in no particular order:

what can i say? it’s just so beautiful, and every single expression and pose is just so suited for each character i’m in love.

frankly no real reason for this one aside from the fact that we get to see goto and subaru in yukata and subaru always looks soooo freaking good in hlitf CGs and also goto’s hand is on subaru’s chest and you know we ship gobaru in this house

the third anniversary substory CGs are just amazing (you’ll see the full one in a bit and it’s WILD) but honestly i just need everyone to see this one bc it’s just gorgeous. look at ishigami and kaga and look at how inhuman they look, all sweaty and tired from being in panda mascot costumes. kaga with his sleeves rolled up literally has me salivating. look at PRETTY their faces and muscles are... anyway, this CG has me as thirsty as ishigami guzzling that bottle of water..........

i said it was in no particular order but i just need to say that this one is my actual favourite bc it has EVERYONE. and look at how gorgeous they all look.... every single one of them with their hair pushed back ;alskdjfalsk WHO??? WHO LET THIS HAPPEN? NAMBA’S GLOVE? KAGA AND GOTO’S MATCHING SCOWLS? THE ANGLE OF SOMA’S HEAD? TSUGARU’S TONGUE? and also the way his legs are positioned?!?!?! also i love swishy hair ayumu and hide with his leg crossed the other way from kaga and also i’ve never seen toru look this attractive it’s very unfair.

the sheer amount of chaotic energy in this one is just wonderful and i love all the details. you all know namba is DAY DRUNK. goto and toru in that signature headlock position, ayumu being a lil shit and putting wasabi in all the cupcakes and ISHIGAMI AND KAGA FALLING FOR IT AND SUFFERING??? LOOK AT THEIR SUFFERING FACES JUST LOOK. and you just KNOW that soma is going to suffer the same fate oh sweet mercy this is like “famous last pictures” level of good. also they’re all wearing new clothes which i love sooooo much. i wanna see ayumu in that orange sweater more often and also army green shirt kaga with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms with that look on his face. have i ever been more in love? no.

finally, here’s my ultimate favourite favourite group image of all time! not a CG but it’s the header that i use on the mobile version of my blog:

they’re all looking so happily/fondly over at YOU (hlitf mc who fell asleep) and wondering what you’re dreaming about/saying that you’re dreaming about them. and they all just love and adore you so much. the amount of affection in this one image is unreal and also momose is in it ialskfjsd i just.............. am the SOFTEST for this one.

anyway sorry that (1) it took so long for me to answer this, bc i had to spend ages thinking about it alongside being busy with life stuff and (2) that i went on for so long and did not pick 5 CGs but rather... 12....... but these are my faves!! thank you so much for the ask!

#her love in the force #hlitf #seiji goto #hyogo kaga #hideki ishigami #shusuke soma #ayumu shinonome #jin namba #toru kurosawa #takaomi tsugaru #takeru momose #snow answers #Anonymous #voltage inc #otome game #voltage otome #otome romance #love 365 #at times like this i really miss my tag bundles

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the-acid-pear · 3 years

Text

Yesterday i spoke about Copper, so it's only right if today i speak about Koshka. Unlike Copper, Koshka has a way more lore focused story so i will try to mention just the most important parts so this isn't too long.

Just like yesterday let's start from the basics. Who is Koshka? Well, Koshka is a young man living in Russia with the objective to become a god. He originally was planned to be an artist but this got quickly forgotten bc ai back then did what it wanted. He has no parents and was living with a priest named Father Féval. This was the same man who taught Koshka how to kill demons and *mumbles* possibly doomed his whole life, but let's not speak ill of the death!

So yes, so far, story started with Koshka becoming a demon hunter, how cool right? Well, yes and no. Because what koshka did was pretty much just... Genocide. He more than once interrupted demons that were doing nothing harmful only to kill them one by one. Of course it's important to mention koshka was like 16 or 17 at the beginning of his journey, which just makes Father Féval look like an asshole for making this orphan into a killing machine, but oh well!

Demons weren't the only thing Koshka killed though, oh no they weren't, he also made trolls go extinct because one troll beat up and humillated him! Which is a, well, disproportionate retribution to say the least, but hey! He did let one live though! But just because it was half elf :)

This event regarding the troll however did lead, accidentally, to another mayor event, which was the destruction of Koshka's village. A fire sage was commanded to do so because the people in that village had turned evil, which looking back at might have been true. Especially since after having this chat he went to kill the trolls.

His demon genocide however got him far though! One of his biggest achivements was to defeat the demon lord, the whole reason he started training with Father Féval. Unfortunately, the fight was anti climatic to say the least, perhaps even sad. The demon lord barely even tried to fight back, he was just there in his chamber chilling when this kid came rushing screaming he was going to kill him. And when Koshka did, everyone was just horrified.

But this was only the start of Koshka's journey. We would have to stay here the entire day just to mention every mayor event in his life, or every wound he has suffered, like the multiple shots, stabs and cuts in his body, or the time he got hit in the face with a fireball. So let's just break down his personality!

Koshka has been through a lot of character development, i believe he's around 23 years old in the current story, and he went from being a quite violent man to somewhat of a coward. But you can't really blame him for this, after being tortured and humillated so many times (and believe me, it happened a LOT) you eventually lose your will and desire to fight. Back then however he loved killing and destroying and maiming, but he was just a kid man.

Another thing about Koshka that never changed is how emotional he is. Obviously he has some issues controlling his anger, but this man is far from being the stoic anti hero, nah, he cries a LOT, he cannot fucking deal with how shitty his life got to be. He also lost many friends (either because they died or because they just had to go) and every single time this hurt him deeply.

But that's enough about the sad life information of Koshka, let's focus on something better, like his appearance! Unlike Copper, i actually have a vague mental image of how he might look like, mildly short, pale, tired eyes, body full of scars, blonde, and i like to think he had shoulder long hair when he was young! (When he grew up he cut it as a way to sort of, i don't know, let the past go). Now, some trivia about this war criminal! 🥰

Koshka got his name after i asked Blood for a name and he answered "cat". If you Google, Koshka means cat in Russian. This unfortunately caused people in game to keep thinking Koshka was a woman, since that name (if it's even a name) is female.

Koshka very early in the story beat up a kid. This had no repercussions nor motive, and it was in fact not even my fault. However i still think the random outburst of uncalled brutally was very funny.

Koshka exists since 2019 making him perhaps my oldest AI Dungeon character.

Koshka has never once in this story shown attraction for a woman (some ladies have kissed him but he never had any say on the matter) so i like to think he's gay.

Koshka once claimed being called John Smith

In order to justify my dislexia i will say Koshka is dislexic as well, since he canonically forgot about his companion, Trelik, and went to check on a stranger at the hospital with a similar, Trilek.

#luly talks #oc rambles #Koshka is way sadder than copper #but i love my boy #i will talk someday about his companions too bc god believe me there were a LOT

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lyssismagical · 4 years

Note

sorry this is a continuation - 1 from sentence starters?? i LOVE the stories you write on ao3 I've read all of them!! 💙💙💙

1 – “Does it hurt?”

{Biodad AU bcs I can’t help myself}

When Tony was flying back from Afghanistan, there was only one thing on his mind.

Peter.

He didn’t care about the past three months. He didn’t care about Obie or whatever he wanted Tony to do. He didn’t care about Pepper who’s supposedly waiting for them at the landing strip. He didn’t care about Rhodey who was sitting at his side, murmuring things about therapy and trauma and injuries. He didn’t care about anything other than his kid.

It’s easy enough for him to compartmentalize all of the trauma. To tuck it all away in boxes labelled Do Not Touch inside his head.

He’s been doing that kind of thing for as long as he can remember. He knows it’s not right but his chest is aching and tears burn at his eyes, as he instinctively grabs the pair of sunglasses from Rhodey’s shirt and slip them onto his face, ignoring the sharp pain from his nose.

“-listening to me?”

Tony looks over at his best friend who’s rolling his eyes. “Something about trauma blah blah blah weapons blah blah blah therapy. Yeah, I don’t really give a shit.”

“You look like you’ve been through hell, Tony,” Rhodey says, eyes filling with so much emotion that Tony has to look away. “It’s not my fault I’m worried about you. You were missing for three months.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Tony snaps, rubbing a hand harshly over his face with a deep breath.

Rhodey’s face falls. “That’s not what I meant. I just think-”

“I don’t care about me right now, okay?” Tony’s chest tightens as an image of the last time he saw Peter flashes through his head. Mandatory SI thing out in Afghanistan. One weekend, Tony had promised. Just two nights with Pepper, and then Tony would be back. He’d never left Peter for longer than a few days for business reasons.

Understanding passes over Rhodey’s face and he pats Tony’s shoulder. “Peter’s okay-”

“Is he though?” Tony demands angrily. “His dad left him for three fucking months. I just- I disappeared on him. I promised him time and time again that I’d always come back to him. That he didn’t have to worry. Oh god, has he been with Pepper this whole time?”

It’s not that he doesn’t trust Pepper with Peter, he does, with his life, but she’s never been alone with Peter for more than a night.

“No, god no, as soon as I got back, I took him to Philadelphia.”

It takes a few seconds for it to click. Rhodey’s family home.

“Your mom looked after him?”

Rhodey nods, shrugging like it doesn’t mean anything. “Yeah, she’s been asking for grandkids for as long as I can remember, so this is the next best thing, I suppose. Don’t be surprised if he’s learned how to knit while there.”

Tony forces a breath of laughter. “How soon until I can see him?”

“Pepper and Obadiah are waiting for you when we land, and I think you should be checked out by a doctor, but as soon as you’re cleared, we can get you there or him here.”

As much as he really doesn’t care about whatever Obie wants or about seeing a doctor, he knows one thing for certain, “I need an emergency press conference scheduled immediately upon arrival. I don’t give a shit what you have to do to make it happen.”

He floats through the day, the following night he’s kept in a hospital room to patch up all the wounds, and the next day he spends trying to convince everybody that he’s okay, he just needs to see his kid.

Until finally he’s on a private jet on his way to Philadelphia with Pepper and Rhodey.

“Are you sure you’re okay, man?” Rhodey asks again, as though he isn’t fully aware of the way Tony compartmentalizes trauma. Like he doesn’t remember the months after Howard and Maria died and the shit Tony did to avoid it. Like he isn’t painfully aware of how much Tony loves Peter and how much he’d fight to get to his kid any day.

Tony nods, forcing a half-smile. “How long till we’re there?”

Rhodey rolls his eyes dramatically, elbowing Tony playfully. “God, you’ve already asked that like a hundred times.”

“And, anyway,” Pepper pipes up from the driver’s seat. “We’re here.”

Tony barely waits for the car to stop before he’s springing out of the car with newfound hope and energy filling his chest where it ached before.

The door opens before he has the chance to knock and he’s pulled into Mrs. Rhodes’s chest in a warm hug.

“I was so worried, boy, don’t you go doing that again, you hear me?” she scolds gently in the way that only Rhodey’s mum could. “I’m making lunch for you, and don’t you dare tell me you’re not hungry, you’re staying for lunch.”

“Okay, let him go see his kid before he blows a gasket,” Rhodey chides, pulling his mom into a hug and waving Tony off. “It’s nice to see you, mom.”

Tony heads down the hallway in the direction he can hear soft sniffles coming from. He makes it to a door where there’s a messy drawing taped to it of Tony and Peter, Peter’s Room, Do Not Enter written across the top, with backwards E’s.

He knocks, suddenly unsure if Peter will even want to see him. He wouldn’t be surprised if his kid was angry or upset or decided he wanted to stay with Mama Rhodes forever.

“Kiddo, you in there?”

The door swings open a second later and Tony thinks his heart must stop.

His kid. His baby. Is crying, eyes red-rimmed and puffy, nose running, and bottom lip trembling miserably. He’s wearing his little Captain America PJ’s, a little short around the ankles and wrists, and his Tony Stark Build-a-bear clutched in his grip.

“Daddy?” Peter sounds unsure, confused, like he can’t really believe Tony’s there.

Tony drops to his knees, leveling their gazes. “Yeah, it’s me, buddy, I’m back.”

Instantly his arms are full of his kid, little arms thrown around his neck and face buried in his chest.

“I’ve got you, buddy, it’s okay,” Tony murmurs, blinking back tears of his own as he presses a kiss to the crown of his baby’s head. “I’m so sorry I was gone for so long, I wouldn’t have been if I had a choice, bambi, I promise. But I’m back now, I’ve got you.”

Peter cries into his shirt, sniffling and trembling in Tony’s arms, and Tony quietly lets a few tears fall, hoping Peter won’t notice.

“I missed you so much,” Peter cries, voice muffled in Tony’s shirt.

“I missed you too, bubba. I missed you so, so much.”

He stands, lifting Peter into his arms and sitting on the edge of his bed, letting Peter wrap his legs around Tony’s waist, making himself comfortable against Tony’s chest.

“I thought you weren’t coming back,” Peter whines tearfully. “I thought you were gone forever.”

Tony presses another kiss to Peter’s temple. “No, baby, I’m home now. I’m back and I’m not going anywhere, okay? Ever again.”

He knows it’s an impossible promise to make, he knows that much.

It doesn’t take too long for Peter to tire himself out, little fists curling into Tony’s t-shirt and big, glassy eyes blinking slowly.

Peter slips down a little, cheek falling against Tony’s chest but he startles when it makes a dull thudding noise, rubbing at his cheekbone in irritation.

“Sorry, buddy, I know it’s not comfy,” Tony murmurs, pulling his shirt up to show the glowing arc reactor sitting in the center of his chest.

Peter touches it with wide eyes, the blue reflecting in his eyes. He touches it was a quiet kind of curiosity like he isn’t sure if he’s allowed to. “Does it hurt?”

Swallowing thickly, Tony shakes his head. “No, kiddo, it doesn’t hurt. I’m okay.”

And Peter’s just a kid, he wouldn’t know to find out why it came to be, what happened, he wouldn’t understand the implications of surgery, he just shrugs and presses a little kiss to the center of the arc reactor.

Tony tugs his shirt back down, guiding Peter’s head to settle in the space near his collarbone to avoid the metal, and presses another kiss to his baby’s head, unable to speak with the tears clogging his throat.

“If I sleep, will you be here when I wake up?” Peter asks quietly, childish innocence masking any sort of pain he’d felt while Tony was gone.

“I promise, kiddo, I’ll be right here,” Tony whispers, scared his voice will break if he spoke any louder. “I promise.”

It’s enough for Peter, who closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep easily, fingers relaxing their hold on Tony’s shirt.

When Rhodey comes to get them down for lunch, he finds the father and son sleeping soundly in each other’s arms.

#lyss writes #lyss answers #irondad #biodad au

168 notes · View notes

sleepdeprivedheretic · 3 years

Text

Kill Me Hardly (Last Ch.)

Notes: Last chapter!!! This chapter is straight up Fluff, with nsfw, bc I’m a simple being :’) Those who just want a sad ending, can pretend that this chapter doesn’t exist, lol.

Warnings: mild Smut (or, milder than what I’m use to writing)

@youtubequeens: I tried my best, haha

Light. Warmth. Softness. Beeping. Everything dawned slowly onto you at once as you stared at the wall with half-lidded eyes, regaining your focus as your fingertips felt something soft. Feeling something. You jolted awake, sitting upwards. Your legs felt heavy, everything felt warm and safe, the ghosts were gone, and you wondered if this was how newborns felt, for everything seemed to be new and yet familiar.

Like a new dawn, you felt your own heart beating as the monitor beeped in with excitement. You also felt weak and tired, your frame was sick and paler than the healthy flush that it had use to be, and a soft snoring jolted you out of your thoughts as you looked at your hands.

“T-” You tried, yet your vocal chords were unused for a year, but you still felt a strong sense of relief and peace, and your heart thrummed with searing warmth as the man who you had beginning to develop feelings for, had his head and arms nestled comfortably within your lap, your fingers threading through his hair gently.

“…” You tried clearing your throat as you looked around your surroundings. Cards, flowers, stuffed animals littered the table next to you, no doubt from your friend and family, you and Taishiro were alone within the room, and yet, you also desperately missed your parents.

A thought struck you, how did he get in here? Where were your parents? Did they leave before he came here? It was such a miracle that you were alive, and yet, you were so confused.

“Ta-Tai-chan.” You croaked out lowly, looking down. He only stirred slightly. You huffed out a small noise of adoration. Alive. You were alive and feeling, and he came all this way….

“T..” You shook him gently. He stirred. He groaned when you pinched his cheeks, squeezing them softly as finally, his eyelids slid open, and then widened as he stared at you, taking you in. You didn’t have a chance to really think, before he lifted himself up in such a haste, and then lunged.

Surprise. You were surprised that he had leaned you down in which he was now hovering over you, staring at you thoroughly as one hand held himself above you, and the other clasped onto yours, rubbing a calloused thumb over your palm rather gently.

“Tai..” You tried, reaching up to caress his cheek. He leaned down, resting onto his elbows now as he surprised you with a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Shush. Ya damned woman. Makin’ me worry an’ shit.” He said softly, his own voice cracking a little. You smiled a little, he was trying so hard not to let the tears flow, and yet you were rubbing away the wetness with the gentle sweeping of your thumb.

The next thing you knew, he was holding your face gently as he began kissing you. Your eyelids, cheek, jaw, and finally, mouth with a fervent hunger, and you couldn’t help but whine with surprise want, gripping your hands tightly in his hair, him groaning as his face slid down to the crook of your neck. You jumped, but he kissed the scarred up wound so softly, threading his hand through your own hair, feeling that you were very real.

“Fuckin’ hell, ya scared me last night.” He said, voice muffling in your neck, sending tingles down your spine.

The both of you jumped as loud knocks echoed on the door. Taishiro reluctantly pulled away with a scowl on his face, placing himself back on the seat where he had been presumably all night as the familiar doctor walked in with a glass of water, and a closed packet with some rubbing alcohol.

“Why, hello! You must be very confused and exhausted, am I correct? I’m Doctor Fujiharu Akashi, I’ve been in charge of taking care of you. Please relax, I need to take your vitals, and explain to you what’s been happening.” The gray haired doctor said with a bright smile. Taishiro stood up so that the doctor could talk to you as he set the cup of water next to the desk, you took it and sipped on it slowly as he continued talking.

“Your body will need time, but there’s a high chance for it to recover wonderfully. You’ll need to eat soft foods, and drink things that have electrolytes in them, such as chicken broth or Gatorade. My nurse assistant should be printing you out a list of foods in which you can or can’t have.” The doctor babbled, you listening as you winced at the needle.

“-as you understand, you are a very, very lucky person. Your heartbeat had picked up at an abnormal rate last night, and we concluded that you were close to waking up. After...um...a year.” He stalled, looking guilty as he adjusted his glasses. You didn’t blame him, for he didn’t know that you were a ghost.

“Year?” You played along, tilting your head.

“Yes. I’m sorry, Miss (Y/n). I know it’s not easy to take in, but you’re safe now. Your parents had left you in the care of your friend. They needed to go..um...well, I’ll let him explain it to you later, alright? Your voice and organs should be up and running fine in a few days. Until then, we’ll have to keep an eye on you to see how you’re coping well, alright?” Dr. Akashi finished, taking the tube with him as he bowed, leaving you and Tai alone.

You turned towards him, raising an eyebrow.

“They were confused as hell, but long story short, I told ‘em that I was a pen-pal overseas, and told them of what I knew ‘bout ya. They seemed wary, but friendly enough. Of course they couldn’t stay, long. Yer brother had court, today. They’ll be here, later.” He explained, rubbing his hand softly over yours. You squeezed gently, making a humming sound in your throat.

You wanted to say something, to bring up the elephant in the room, but you were oddly, very happy and surprised, and didn’t want to break the spell. As if sensing your confusion or unrest, Taishiro sighed.

“Ya know, I thought a lot last night. Watchin’ ya sleep- don’t give me that look!” He huffed as you squinted at him with a judging stare.

“Oh, whatever. Anyways, I thought about ya. Me. Us. What ya might do after ya heal...and...it’ll be weird livin’ without ya, is what I’m sayin’! If...if ya wanna..kami, this is hard.” He bit his lip, a pretty red flushed to his cheeks and neck, and he sighed, looking at your own reddening cheeks.

“Look, I like ya. More than I’d thought I’d like anybody. You’re a little worm, crawlin’ into people’s heart-ow! Okay, that’s fair.” He rubbed his shoulder, squinting at you as you glared. He took in a breath as he then stared at you with a stern seriousness, his hand clasped onto yours as the other smoothed over your cheek.

“You’ve gotten close to me. Ya’ve caught me. I..I don’t wanna be the kind of man that you or yer parents should hafta fear, or look down on. It took such a fuckin’ scare from ya for me to get my ass in gear. I’ve made up my mind, thinkin’ last night,” He gave you such a soft look, and briefly you wondered if this was the same person months ago, yet you held his endearing gaze as he continued to finish his speech.

“-that I wanna protect ya. N’ everybody who’s been through that shit. Ya, yer parents, hell, even Dabi’s girls, knowin’ that their job ain’t easy, an’ they got mouths to feed. I hafta go home, let ya be with yer parents and friends, but I’ll be here everyday, if ya want. I’m gonna get rid of all that villain shit, buy some more vanilla candles, an’ look fer jobs.” He finished, and you stared at him with such surprise and shock, you felt tears welling in your eyes.

“O-oi! Don’t start cryin’ on me! Ya sap!” He squinted, eternally screaming on what to do, and you smiled.

“Beautiful.” You mumbled out, but he heard you, his blush darkening at your own wonderstruck stare. His expression softened a bit through furrowed eyebrows as his eyes met yours. As if to say “hell with it”, he leaned in, silently asking for a kiss, and of course you breached the distance between the two of you, catching him off guard as you grabbed the front of his hoodie, bringing him down to meet your lips. You grinned, catching him off guard as he made a muffled groan.

He pulled away, huffing out a laugh.

“Damned woman. My damned woman. Ya know, I’m gonna get ya later fer all the shit you’ve pulled. Just you wait.” He promised darkly, and you shivered with an odd mix of excitement and anticipation.

“For now, though, I gotta go. Rest up, Babe. You’re gonna need it.” He gave you one last kiss, before reluctantly heading out of the door.

….………

To say that you were relieved, was an understatement. Your parents were so damned happy to see you, your mother and father enveloping you in a tight hug, but not too tight. Your body was a little frail, not as strong as it use to be, so you had to stay in the hospital until you could be discharged.

Of course, you were far from being lonely. Both of your parents and Taishiro would meet up with you regularly, them telling embarrassing stories about you, and you, gaining back your voice, would hush them in embarrassment or change the subject, quickly as your partner, yes, partner, laughed.

However, when your parents were too busy, Taishiro would be more than happy to spend his time with you, telling you how he was getting noticed quickly by the police, but in a good way. He grinned, showing off his badge, and your eyes glittered with excitement.

“That’s great! Who did you steal it, from?” Slipped out, and he rolled his eyes, pinching your cheeks a little roughly as you complained.

“Figured that I’d try my hand at somethin’ that I do know about. Fightin, criminals, fightin’ criminals, ya know. Hafta do trainin’ classes, but so far they’re impressed. Heh, they should be. Fatgum was a notorious villain, after all who was good at shovin’ down police officers.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and it was your turn to roll your eyes.

“Braggart.”

“Heh. Says the college lady who’s takin’ online classes.” He pointed out. It was true. After word got out of your recovery, your old college had promised to continue your education, since it was already paid for, and you were close to graduating, anyway. Of course you took online classes, and joined the classroom through a camera, but you healed and studied, while Taishiro stayed busy, he did offer a solution to your loneliness if he or nobody else could visit you.

Cue a gaggle of giggling women, fawning over you as they babbled among themselves, fixing their makeup and painting your nails. At first, you were flabbergasted, but a grinning Dabi dropped in and told you that Taishiro said that you were the one helping him bring food and stuff for the girls. Although the scarred man didn’t know how, he trusted Tai, and thought that it’d be nice for the adult women to keep their savior a bit of company.

Not having much lady friends, you agreed reluctantly, but quickly took a shine to the bright-eyed ladies and their adorable children as they told stories that surprised and shocked you, and of course made you blush furiously, for they were still sex workers, and you were not use to such stories.

“Always use lube~! Even aroused, it’s normal for some people to just not get wet. So don’t hurt yourself, Babe!” One chirped.

“Oooh! Glass dildos are easy to clean, and are soooo much smoother than plastic or silicone. Any lube can go on them, and won’t wear the toy down.”

“I got one! Always pee after sex. You can and will get a urinary tract infection if you’re not careful.”

Yeah, you’ve learned a lot other than your college classes.

When Taishiro wasn’t busy, he’d bring you his favorite snack, Takoyaki, as the two of you talked about everything and nothing. You liked these days, where it was just you and him, how he’d say that you smelled like vanilla, that’s why he has so many of those candles, and you telling him that you’re learning too much things from the girls. He’d wink at you, saying that if you wanted to, you could teach him, and then laughing at your frustrated yet flushed face.

Two months had passed so soon. It was nearing Christmas, and you’ve gained back your own weight, skin looking healthy and you were about to be discharged. Of course you wanted to move in with Taishiro, and with your parent’s knowledge, he moved your things to his apartment. Or, so you thought.

“Wait...so...my things aren’t at your apartment?” You quirked an eyebrow. He grinned.

“Neither are mine.”

“What the fu-”

“Language, young missy.” He tutted, mocking a teacher as he wagged a finger. You laughed.

“No, but Tai, where are our things?” You pressed, and he grinned. You glared.

“I moved them.”

“Wheeeeeere?” You drawled out in a whine, and he switched out his grin for a smug smile.

“To our new home.”

“Wait, what?”

“Ya heard me! Figured that I’ve been savin’ a lot of money from my old “job”, that you an’ I could, I dunno, moveintoahouseorsomethin’.” He said it so fast, but it caught your attention.

“Taishiro...you? Got us a house?” You asked softly. He looked away sheepishly for a moment.

“Well, yeah. Should’ve asked ya, first, but, it was in the middle of the city, an’ a heh, “steal”, an’ it’s near plenty of job opportunities for yer career. If ya don’t like it, I’ll-”

You shushed him in a kiss, pulling away for a moment before beaming from ear to ear.

“You sap. It sounds perfect.”

“Shut up, I know.” He grinned, kissing you in turn.

“No, but seriously, please inform me of important decisions from now on. I don’t need more anymore surprises.”

“Will do, Sweetheart.” He hummed, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

“So. Does this place have a stripper pole?”

“Tch, Cheeky woman, who do ya think I am? I was goin’ to ask your permission to install one in our bedroom.” He joked, and yet you oddly didn’t mind the idea.

“Only if your service is free.” You giggled, and he laughed.

“For you? Only.”

………….

After being discharged, you had finally gotten to get some more fresh air, getting out of the hospital bed as you looked around your surroundings, glad to be free of the grisly spirits, even on the streets. Of course, Taishiro had taken you to your new home, the both of you standing outside and he grinned proudly.

Although he mentioned house, he didn’t mention almost a mansion. You gave him a look.

“What?”

“Taishiro, as I am beyond grateful, isn’t this a bit, much?” You asked, solemnly. He frowned, and already you felt bad.

“Ya...don’t like it?”

“Kami, I love it, it’s beyond perfect! It just caught me off guard, a little, and I wondered if it’ll be lonely? You know, such a big house, and so many rooms…” You glanced at him, and he found himself smiling.

“Ya know? I think there’s a way that we could use up the rooms.” He drawled, and already you found that you were blushing furiously.

“Not that, you pervert! Well, maybe that, but only in like, two rooms! Anyways. Even if I’m in the police force, now, I’m still on good terms with Dabi an’ his boss. The lady’s and their kids...really need a break from livin’ in the slums….” He drawled out. You quirked an eyebrow.

“Our home isn’t going to be ran like a brothel.”

“I know that! I was sayin’…maybe we can set up a daycare? For their kids? So that they can grow up more safely. So they don’t hafta resort to gang violence, ya know? It’s not a permanent home, but it’ll be a place for each parent an’ kid to be in their own rooms.”

“As much as I like that idea, Taishiro, we need a solid plan to make this work. Okay, so each room-” You began babbling as he listened, giving you his own ideas, which you also liked. The two of your continued your conversation after taking a look inside of the house, pointing out which rooms were the two of yours, and which rooms could be spared. It was a lot to think about, but you genuinely wanted a more safer place for your lady friends whom you’ve grown fond of, and of course, for their children.

Calling Dabi, said man gave his own insight on the idea, and said that that would work, perfectly, as he could make sure that his girls and their kids were safe and more sound, knowing that they’d be in a safer neighborhood.

All in all, the plan boiled down to, was that each parent and child had their own daycare bedroom for a limited amount of time per day. Although they couldn’t permanently live in there, because of food, rent, and you really not wanting to have a bunch of women living with you, constantly, the children could be in a safe place while their parents worked, Dabi’s other girls who didn’t have kids, looked after them, giving you and Tai plenty of space and time for each other. Although, you didn’t mind being a babysitter, as long as you weren’t overworked.

Even though you had gotten close to the ladies, cameras were set up so nobody could bring unwanted guests. To the both of you, it sounded like a good plan.

It didn’t happen overnight, of course, as you had finally had gotten hired at a really well paying job, the two of you stayed busy, yet made time for each other as you possibly could, while in both of your spare times, made funds here and there to remodel each room. Although working, you didn’t stress yourself, for you were still healing, a little, but you tried to help Tai in anyway you can as you decorated the rooms, laughing as you smeared orange paint onto his face, leaving him to growl playfully, kissing you senseless as he quickly returned the favor, grinning with pride as you had a poorly drawn red heart on your arm. You smiled.

When all rooms were finished, Dabi was called, and thus a small group of women and their children came to look at the place.

Cue a bunch of teary eyed women, hugging you as they sobbed out how grateful they were, and how their babies were now much safer away from the crappy parts of the city, even for a little bit. Taishiro smiled a bit fondly as you held onto one of their kids, leaning in and whispering in your ear.

“Hey, I want one.” He grinned darkly, and you shrugged.

“Sure.”

“What?” His brain seemed to stop, still, and you chuckled at his frozen expression.

“We both have stable jobs, and a good home. Plus some very awesome babysitters. Tit for tat.” You winked, and he grinned.

“We still haven’t-”

“Oh, and did I mention? Rubber toys can absorb bacteria-”

“Yuna! There’s children, here!”

……………..

It was nearing spring, you were getting more acquainted with seeing happy, hyper children, and learning more from the ladies, whether it be parental or other advice. You didn’t mind them, liking the way they’ve kept you company on your days off, helping you clean and cook as Taishiro was at work. If you were at work, he’d rather be out and about with his work buddies, saying that he felt uncomfortable being around a group of ladies when his own woman was away. It touched you, really.

Of course your parents started visiting, more often when they could, learning that you were taking care of others, they were very proud of you and although wary that so many women lived in your home, you reassured them that you trusted your partner. They’ve brought news about your brother, saying that he was going through rehab and therapy. Although he didn’t want to bother you, nor pressure you into forgiving him, he passed the word to your parents, that he was thinking of you, and wished that he could have been a better sibling. All you could do is wish the best for him, and wait and see for yourself.

With Tai’s and your jobs, the two of you made a very good team, splitting the bills and chores equally, as the two of you had taken time out of your rather busy schedules to go on dates, help with charities, taking care of your friends and their children, and support each other. He was still a grumpy Tsundere, but you were his cheeky smartass, so it all evened out.

…………(nsfw)

You were fully healed when the two of your’s first anniversary came around. Physically, as well as mentally, you were ready. Although dating for a year, the two of you were so busy with work, looking after the girls, going to local charities, and learning to love and cope within society, the complete act of sex wasn’t a thing between the two of you. Sure, after heavy kissing sessions, you’d cum around his fingers and tongue, and vice versa, but neither of you had the time to take to really slow the world down and appreciate each other, and that’s what you’ve wanted, and he couldn’t have agreed more.

So the two of you planned to use your vacation days to use on Halloween, or the two of your’s anniversary. Nobody was in your home, the vanilla candles lit up, making the bedroom have enough flickering light that the two of you could still see each other.

He kissed your scar rather more gently than the rest of you. You whined as feather-like kisses adored you, while in contrast, his hips had moved against yours, lifting your leg on top of his shoulder, he buried himself more deeply inside you as you made a keen whine, threading your fingers within his hair tightly. With his free hand, he had cupped your cheek, making it easier for him to kiss your face as your body moved under the shaking bed due to his sharp thrusting.

“I-it’s…warm.” You murmured, feeling the intense heat making you sweat, sharply contrasting the cold, dead feeling as a spirit. He must’ve known what you were talking about, as he then kissed you tenderly.

“I know, Baby. Mu-must’ve been rough, huh? H-heh.” He chuckled quietly at his own dirty joke, and you let out a breathy huff of laughter mixed in with a moan. He worked himself into you, feeling your walls grip him as he churned them, hitting your sensitive spot as your legs trembled as they tightened around his waist and shoulder blade, toes curling as you felt yourself scrambling for that high.

“Th-that’s it. Feel ya...squ-eezin’ onto me. Let yourself go, Baby.” He urged, slowing down, only to aim sharp, powerful thrusts into you as you felt tears of frustration pool. Having none of that, he kissed your eyes, forehead, and mouth as you trembled all over, squeezing him as if he was a lifeline as you bit out his name, finally cumming onto his cock as your orgasm ripped through you.

Seeing such a sight, and on the verge of his own release, he quickened his hips, paying no mind to the squeaking of the bed-frame as the headboard slammed into the wall, you whined out as your sensitivity heightened, saying his name in a mantra of sentences as he fucked you into the mattress, precum, lube, and your cum soiling the bedspread underneath.

In what had seemed to be a looping moment, he gripped your hips towards him in a final, harsh thrust as he then stilled, cussing and letting out your own name as he shot his release inside of you. The both of you panted, as he rested his forehead against yours, hips shallowly moving on their own as he pushed his cum deeper into you as you hummed gently with approval.

“You alright, Honey?” He asked, and you nodded tiredly as he gently pulled out, you whining at the loss as your opening clenched onto nothing, pearlescent fluid dripping out of you.

“Mmm. Better take those lady’s advice an’ use the bathroom. I’ll clean up and meet ya in the shower for round two.” He purred, and you flushed, yet grinning wildly.

…………..End.

:’) I just went straight ahead for domestic fluff and Tai and reader taking care of everybody while living their best lives, especially after all of that angst. This was a field fic, I’ll tell you what.

#fatgum x reader #Fatgum #Taishiro Toyomitsu #You thought you've seen the last #Field fic of a trip #I don't know what or where I was writing #To be happy Ig #I've had a day #And just began writing #Some of it doesn't make any sense but shhh #Au #They low-key adopt everyone

18 notes · View notes

4dtk · 4 years

Text

stuck with you

pairing: enemy!journalist!haechan x journalist!reader

genre: angst, fluff, humour, enemies to lovers (hope i did the trope justice tbh TT)

warnings: cursing, f words lmao, i mention stranger things a lot in this??? mainly bc i just finished watching it w a friend. i also only use ‘haechan’ when narrating the story so i don’t get confused! the timeline for this is Very Weird as well bc like i didn’t consider how long a pandemic would last…… so Uhm. pls just excuse the weird ass time sequence. also referenced yangyang’s bastard child behaviour from dream plan where he packs his things messily and kun had to mf intervene and yangyang had the audacity to go like “see, this is how u get ppl to pack for you, now i don’t have to do anything” 💀

word count: 8k (a headache to proofread...)

A/N: first time trying an e2l trope and im not sure if it was done ok??? i didn't want it to feel too rushed so i tried to spread out the days as much as i could!! i also included small snippets of their life w the other so it won’t seem like the fic is just focusing on the e2l concept! was inspired tons by the lyrics of stuck with u by ariana grande and jb, so that song is definitely something you can listen to if you read this! hope you enjoy ^^

[day 1]

"you're insufferable," you groan, reluctantly handing over the remote control for the hotel's television after some unsuccessful scrolling.

hotels never exactly had much range anyway.

you were very much already dreading the time ahead with the male, sadly having been stuck in quarantine not even half a day with haechan.

offering to go to a neighbouring country to report on the rising covid-19 situation, you didn't expect your rival to tag along, no doubt seeking to craft up a better story than you would.

and so, you were now nudging the remote control into his waiting palm with a roll of your eyes. you hoped it emphasised your annoyance with him even a little, standing up to prepare a cup of tea before bed.

"are you going to keep watching television while i sleep?" you ask a genuine question, peeking at him through the mirror of the vanity that sat outside the bathroom.

he just shrugs with a tired sigh, turning his attention back to the cartoon playing in front of him.

"okay, well, keep to your side of the bed and i'll stay in mine. we need to be social distancing, anyway."

there's a hint of "okay, loser" mumbled under his breath, but you pay it no thought as you finish your tea and brush your teeth before you skillfully set up a fortress made out of pillows.

"ow! what the hell?"

"your leg was in the way, jeez! move it, and i'll stop annoying you," you said, putting up the last of your requested pillows beside where haechan currently sat.

taking one last glance at haechan, you wondered when the lockdown in your country would last before they start letting people fly in. for now, you were trapped with the nightmare himself in a sad hotel room, with only a bed to share.

"goodnight," he tells you, but the sardonic way he says it irks you to the point where you settle for silence instead. the only thing that drones on are the voices of the cartoon, soon fading as you feel into a dreamless sleep.

[day 4]

"this virus thing is probably driving me insane by day, and you, lee haechan, are adding on to it!"

"no headlines, no idea what style to write in, minimal pictures-" the doorbell to the hotel room interrupts your current rant, prompting you to storm off to answer the call with an annoyed look.

"what now?" taken aback by your quick response, the housekeeping girl retracts with downturned eyebrows and a voice hesitant to speak. your roommate comes to the rescue almost immediately when he's heard the commotion.

you watch as he sends her a smile and a wink, deflating when he's let her in to clean up the room. you're not sure why you can't keep your eyes off the both of them as they converse, blaming it mostly on your hatred for the male.

with the last of her duties fulfilled, you offer to help her with the cleaning supplies as an apology, but she cuts you off almost immediately. there's a linger in her step, however, as she walks the short hallway to the door, evident in wanting haechan to send her off as he received her.

turning back to call him, he holds up a hand as he types down his opening lines to an article, prompting you to shoot the housekeeper girl another apologetic look.

"sorry again," you mumble, letting out a sigh at how this was all playing out. day four and you were already making enemies with the hotel crew.

"maybe day forty-one is where i fall in love with lee haechan," you scoffed, perhaps listing down all the unfortunate things that could happen while you were in quarantine.

one of them was catching feelings for your rival.

rolling your eyes, you settled on the bed to catch a few Zs as he continued to work on his article, though you weren't exactly sure about the weight your words held.

[day 9]

"haechan, what is this?" you ask with an eyebrow raised, his dirty boxers barely hanging off your finger.

haechan only groans at that, knowing you were relentless in the laundry. even in a pandemic, he was sure you'd prioritise your clothes first.

"jesus! don't go picking up my underwear just like that!" he snatches it from you, folding it neatly and placing it next to where his luggage sat. unfortunately, yours was right beside his.

"you think just because you're doing the laundry you're able to look through a man's prized possessions-!"

your jaw drops, "it was near the sink, haechan! i don't want to look at the checkered pattern on your boxers when i brush my teeth. i don't want it near my face either."

haechan groans yet again, running a hand through his hair in frustration before turning back to the computer, a blank document opened up in front of him.

despite gathering findings, interviewing healthcare workers and serving the public alongside frontline staff, he had deleted every attempt at writing.

there's a rumble from the bathroom, perhaps from your upset stomach or the choked pipe, but sometimes they sounded too similar he couldn't tell it apart. haechan stifles a laugh when there's a "fuck!" echoing behind the door, though unsure if he should help you or not.

when haechan hears another crash, he comes running without hesitation with a face morphed into furrowed eyebrows and a tilt of the head.

"don't just stand there, you moron!"

haechan snaps out of his daze to assist you off the floor, swiftly helping you even more off the floor as he carries you to the bed with a stiff one arm. you notice his other hand hanging awkwardly, probably not knowing what to do with it before you feel the soft sheets under your butt.

he gets to work within a minute, fishing for an ointment and some bandages his mother forced him to bring. he remembers it as he always has: a caring mother looking out for her son, maybe a little too much sometimes.

haechan is thankful for his mother, now, for the stray bandages laying around in his pouch.

you watch in silence as he cleans the cut with alcohol, wincing when his hand hadn't even touched your skin.

"my hand isn't even on your skin yet! jeez, calm down."

you shake your head, holding onto his bicep to halt his arm, "just use water, please."

exhaling in exasperation, you wonder if you've pissed him off tenfold when he leaves for the bathroom with a side-eyed glance, though not hostile.

"problematic," haechan whispers, dabbing a wet cloth over the wound carefully before applying the ointment and securing the bandages.

"your words contradict your actions so much, haechan. i never know what you're thinking." sighing, you pull your leg away from his hold after he's done with the bandages, making your way to the bathroom and leaving him in his thoughts.

"why do you want to know?"

haechan gets silence; the lock of the bathroom audibly turns to signal another wall put up between the two of you. with another frustrated groan, the boy plops down on the chair to work on his article with the right words forming in his mind.

even if he was the one who asked, he wasn't sure if he was ready to tell you.

[day 13]

"stranger things is freaking me the fuck out, man!" haechan whispered, ignoring your pleads and groans to continue writing.

"haechan! give me the damn laptop! i don't even know why you brought an HDMI cable when it doesn't work with the television system here!"

"well, we got one that matches it, didn't we?" he said, eyes peeled to the screen that showed the young boy, will, in the upside-down.

"you mean you did!" you shoved him, ready to disconnect the devices before haechan held you back, clearly entranced by the next sequence of eleven being able to see will in a pool of salt.

"ugh, god, i don't even know why people watch the show!" you spill with sourness, knowing the show was praised for its excellent acting and writing.

haechan raises an eyebrow, turning to you with a strangely slow speed.

"stranger things have received multiple awards, and you didn't give any other reason. are you scared?"

when you struggle to find words, haechan laughs at his revelation, hiding his pearly whites behind his hand as he continues to make fun of you.

"yeah yeah, i'm scared! so what?"

"'oh haechan! oh no~ i'm terrified, would you care to provide some comfort?' jeez, don't worry, man, i'll protect you." there's a cheeky glimmer in his eyes and a cocky smirk on his face which you very much want to wipe off with the disinfectant in the toilet.

"it's not all that bad, c'mon! give it a-" turning back to the tv, the sudden attack of the demogorgon lashing out at the camera has the male screaming, hiding behind your body in fear.

"you were saying, mr superman?" you deadpan, unlatching his arms around your waist as you sink deeper into the sheets with your phone in hand.

[day 17]

haechan thrashes in his sleep, almost knocking the wine glass you had in your hands when he crosses over the pillow barrier you made.

"what in the hell-" you winced, keeping an eye on the male should he have any more outbursts that would ruin both wine night and the stuff you were working on for the article.

with tipsy hands, your keyboard keys unconsciously write out a letter of disdain and confusion regarding haechan, the boy sleeping next to you with a cute drooling face and curly hair.

with beautiful tan skin like that, you wondered why he didn't model instead. with a voice as impressive as his, you wondered why he didn't sign a contract. with natural hosting capabilities, you wondered why didn't fucking get the place of a talk show host.

because man, he can get pretty bothersome sometimes.

[day 20]

the next few days pass by with a breeze.

despite not knowing how the current pandemic will turn out, you find haechan more bearable, his habits being dumped in the past with a wave of a hand.

petty arguments occur, of course, until one of you brushes off the matter like nothing.

today was one of the days you won't back down.

there's worry evident on your face, eyes scanning through every last document on the stupid laptop. fingers travel fast over the keyboard as the realisation slowly dawns on you.

with slumped shoulders, you take a deep breath before turning to the male.

"what do you mean you accidentally deleted my article? i know we're sharing the damn laptop, but we established that you stay on your files and i stay on mine."

the other waved his hand, "i did not touch any of your files, (y/n), i'm not sure what happened."

"how could you not know? what the hell? i had good content on it, but now i have to spend more hours reorganising the news and interview answers and everything else in my notes. thanks, lee haechan."

"maybe if you weren't so caught up in me trying to sabotage your place in the publication team, then you would've believed me." he shrugged, taking a seat on the one bed like nothing.

you scoffed, arms crossing across your body. "funny how you mention sabotage because a villain never reveals their motive. that's why you came with me, didn't you?"

haechan stuck his tongue out to the side of his mouth, eyes blinking and rolling like an 8-ball that it sickened you to the core.

"villain? i'm the villain?"

"was i not clear?" you hiss, stepping closer to the male.

"no, make it more precise, please. i wanna hear it word for word. spit it out, coward."

with every word, you plunged your finger into his chest, looking deep into his eyes. "you're set out to take my place for department editor, where you know i'm best at."

"and that department would be...?" he crossed his arms, looking down at you with scorn you wished you could slap off his face.

"the..." you gulp with his face all up in yours, eyes boring as he awaits your answer, no doubt losing confidence at your realisation.

"the world depart...ment? you love to travel, right?" you trail off, biting your lip in anxiety when you remember how he was on the plane. you don't exactly remember whether he was more excited or scared.

"wrong! try again."

"politics?" you propose.

haechan's face contorts into disbelief, with his mouth twisted with perplex and eyebrows furrowed. "me? politics?"

your mouth runs dry at the roadblock you've faced, and as that annoying, stupid smirk grows, your hatred for him increases by the charts.

"naming departments i'd rather die than join, running your mouth, accusing me of deleting your files..." haechan shakes his head dramatically, rolling his eyes and letting out a fat sigh.

"you think i wanna be stuck here with your infuriating ass? god, you're so entitled, aren't you? aren't you?!"

"talking like you own the place, talking like you're the only one in this world, talking like- mhfh-"

within three angry steps, you were across the room.

within three booming steps, your hands were on his face.

within three significant steps, you were kissing lee haechan.

"you never learn to shu..." with horror, you're brought back from the trance with widened eyes.

"oh, god, sorry. what. what the hell. what the fuck?" you whisper, pushing the boy away with both hands in a panic, trying to highlight your scorn for him by wiping your lips on your sleeve.

had you liked it?

the other scurried to the balcony in a frenzy while you collected yourself in the bathroom, although no amount of water could calm your nerves.

with shaky words in bed, you both agreed to never talk about it again.

[day 25]

"hey, i can see your damn annotations on my article, (y/n). will you stop it?" haechan whines, making you second guess if he was joking or not.

for the nth time that day, you roll your eyes and proceed to sip from your cup of gin tonic that haechan desperately wanted you to try. it was... a refreshing taste, but hell, you wouldn't drink this even if it was the last beverage on earth.

"i'm just giving my feedback, be thankful i didn't bring up that stupid kiss five days ago. bleugh."

haechan falls quiet at that, fingers lingering over the keyboard as he typed out some note with the speed of a sloth's.

"hey, call me donghyuck. that's my actual name," he mumbles, glancing at you through his bangs while he awaits your reply.

"donghyuck? is haechan an alias?"

the boy shrugs, "i don't know, maybe. my friends gave it to me when i was younger, and i just stuck with it."

"full sun? your friend gave it to you, sure." you grin with a gesture of your hand, almost spilling the gin in the clear glass before breaking into small laughter with the other.

[day 28]

"hey! hey, what the hell?" you whisper, feeling the boy huddle up to you in lightning speed.

"what is wrong with you?" you whisper-shout, nudging him off your body as his phone screen remains as the only thing illuminating his face.

"sorry, i- i was watching stranger things while i was shitting and after i cleaned up... i heard something and bolted out of there."

"so now you're butt naked? hyuck, ew!" you groan, thankful for the sheets that were covering your body and his junk. his reluctance to get off you didn't seem to bother you as much as earlier, but you still wished he wasn't literally naked against you.

"go put on your underwear, you big baby. i'll be here when you come out. no demogorgon is going to come out, for real."

"no no, i was watching season two and it was that big shadow thingy that freaked me out. can't you feel this poor boy shivering?" haechan sighed, eyes never leaving the corridor that led to the bathroom.

"i can, and i also can feel your dick. please get dressed, or you're sleeping on the floor," you mumble, pulling the sheets to cover your freezing body.

[day 31]

your face hits something soft, cuddling into it even further because of its warmth before you realise there was only one other thing that would be warm in the room.

haechan.

your breath shakes, and your eyes widen as you pull yourself away from his embrace. your subtle movement leaves him thrashing around, though, and his arms tighten around your figure slowly and endearingly.

gulping, you will your hands to stay in their place, opting to freeze to death although there are hints of heat crawling onto your face.

when you wake up, you find that his hand's in yours and maybe you were searching for one wrong thing. an anomaly, an exception. it fit in yours perfectly, however, his tanned skin glowing lightly under the rays of sun filtering through the curtains.

you hoped he didn't realise the small shift of your fingers as they enclosed around his hand.

[day 32]

"what are you doing out here?" haechan asked quietly, peeking around the sliding door before joining you on the chilly balcony. it wasn't much, but it was still different and refreshing from the old, stagnant aircon air that was blowing in the hotel room.

"can't sleep," you whisper. you had your arms around your figure cautiously, as if it could protect you from all the bad, evil and terror in the world. at this point, you weren't sure what was it that you were feeling, but it sure didn't involve entertaining haechan's teasing.

luckily, he bit his tongue from making the usual snarky remarks.

"it's two in the morning, what's up?"

you shake your head in reply, watching the empty streets as the last light in the apartment across you switches off. sure, at two in the morning, pavements were dusty clean, and the birds were sleeping, but there would always be younger boys smoking along the road, or a drunken group of friends laughing about a past memory.

now that the pandemic forced everyone into their homes, everything was pretty much dead. there wasn't that excitement you felt when you saw a late-night kiss shared between two lovers or the snug hug of a child to his father who was working overtime that day.

"nothing's up, hyuck, it's fine. you can get back to sleep if you want."

maybe today you two were the one causing the ruckus this time, though. haechan may have let his words slipped, and at that moment, you knew you regretted that bloom in your chest when his lips met yours.

"you're so hard to read, (y/n). i want you to be able to trust me, tell me what's going on."

"why do you wanna know anyway? so you can expose me of my bad habits and weak points?" you whisper, eyes trained on the flickering lamppost a few yards away.

"there you go again! again with the sabotage?" haechan scoffed, exiting the small space and stepping back into the room of mixed emotions.

"is this just about your feelings for me?"

haechan laughed, "my feelings? might i remind you that you were the one who kissed me full on the lips twelve days ago? what was that all about? i wanna talk about it, even though we said we wouldn't! i wanna talk about why you hate me so much. i wanna talk about why your emotions are so contradictive!"

your mouth hangs open as you sputter out a heated reply, but instead gets interrupted with a knock on the door.

"keep quiet, you damn teenagers! i don't need your petty fights at two in the morning!" with padded feet, the guest returns to his room and slams the door to emphasise his complaint. swallowing, your mind goes blank as it focuses only on one question.

"why do you want to know so much lee haechan? what are you gaining out of this? if it's not sabotaging, then what is it?!" you whisper, standing your ground as with the first argument.

your throat is clenched up, and your fists are balled up tightly with nails digging into your palm. your heartbeat races like a fast car and your breathing's laboured in the cold room. there's no movement for a second, though they feel like minutes on end as haechan struggles to answer your question.

"what is it, lee donghyuck?" you cry out again, the sparkle in your eyes shining brightly from the tears of your never-ending dispute. he wished it was from the moonlight, instead. he wished the two of you were laughing over the rim of wine glasses and sharing the mischievous glimmer of the moon in your eyes.

"it's nothing. don't mind it." the other turns to catch up on sleep, leaving you to bite your lip.

"now you're doing it, now you're the one doing it. just tell me, you dumbass!" you mumble, pulling on his pyjama sleeve and tugging you to him.

"i like you, okay! it's out there now, i like you a lot, but you make it feel like a crime to do it," haechan whispers, "whatever. fuck this."

"no- what- no, we'll talk this out." you propose, adjusting your grip on his wrist with the curl of your fingers.

the male shakes his head and snatches his arm back, "no, forget it, and i'd prefer if you left me alone, (y/n)."

even with the warmth of his body next to yours, your body felt frozen and stiff. even with the thick duvet cover over you, you felt out of place in the stale hotel room, with colour becoming black and white, they merge into grey as the moonlight shone without a care for your problems.

there's action on the balcony when your eyes flutter open in the morning, noticing the quiet way haechan observes those rushing to work as well as social distancing officers making their rounds.

his eyes look hopeful and youthful, different from the tired ones the night before, or rather, this morning. you hadn't forgotten the angry neighbour banging on the door, and you definitely hadn't forgotten about how much you've wounded haechan this morning.

with a soft knock, you let him know of your presence and you just miss the way his eyes soften at your bed hair and messy appearance. his gaze turns hard in a second as he turns back to the apartment across yours, the balcony door showing your reflection of how hesitant you were.

haechan wished he could take your hands in his and accept your apology in a heartbeat, but he stayed seated and waited for whatever you wanted to say.

"don't run off, please." there's a shameful hand on his shoulders, and he's dying to get up when he sees your downcast eyes in the reflection across the street.

"i was too caught up in getting department head that i... didn't consider other possibilities. even the possibility of you uhm... liking me. it's still a weird concept to me, especially with how much we bicker."

"i'm sorry i didn't stay to hear out your feelings and rather, i just talked over you instead. i'm not sure if you want to accept this or not, but i want to open up—about this, about your feelings and... i don't know how much i've masked my emotions, i just know that we need to communicate."

the doorbell interrupts your apology, but you internally thank the housekeeping for bringing breakfast for the two of you.

with silence over breakfast, you weren't sure how the other felt as he scoffed down the croissant and almost burned his tongue with the coffee he ordered.

[day 33]

the boy barely watches the television and instead, reads over the article you were working on. seeing as it was already there when he logged on, he skimmed through it out of curiosity, finding that you were rephrasing the messy typos and sentences frantically on your notes.

haechan never forgot the way you were typing away on the laptop, eyes reading and rereading the sentences to make sure they made sense, to make sure they were clear to the reader.

the argument had taken a toll on you, too. he sees it in the way your eyes sink when your words turn out choppy and lacking, he sees it in the way you lug your body to the bathroom after a late night, he sees it in the way you struggle to hold your smile while attending an interview.

'haechan. you confuse me. i'm not...' the note below it trails off, piquing his curiosity at what it had in store.

'haechan.' big and bold letters it wrote, with a few dozen question marks below it. your writing skills shine through even in an informal note about your self-proclaimed rival, each line prompting the other to read more.

'you confuse me. i'm not sure what you're at but, it doesn't seem natural for you to tag along with someone you hate, right? that's what i was thinking too.'

'jeez, i remember hating when suyeon told me you were coming along. i didn't believe her one bit until she showed me your plane ticket and the hotel rooms next to each other. god, and when i came here, it was a day of interviewing before the damn government decided to close flights and force us into a room together.'

'i heard that other people had to be separated. i didn't know why we were the unlucky two that had to be put in a room together. i wished we didn't, almost. of course, you annoyed me when we first moved in. hogging the tv to no end, leaving your dirty underwear everywhere, running your mouth just like at our workplace.'

'i couldn't take it, maybe. sure, my brother has similar antics, but there was just something about you that just set me off, you know? i wouldn't have thought it was the opposite, or at least, i think so.'

'i'm counting the days. day 17 and i'm not sure why i feel this bubbling feeling inside me. of course, there's anger—i'm sure it's there, but there's also this other thing i get whenever i look at you.'

'my heart clenches up, and my hands become clammy, but it couldn't be a crush, right? i would've wasted my breath shouting, and my strength whacking your shoulder.' that makes haechan chuckle and look over at you where the soft light dances over your face.

'and then i started imagining. how would your arms wrap around me? how would your infuriating laughter, which somehow turned out to be so contagious, feel in the crook of my neck? yikes, that was cheesy.'

'what would it feel like if we fell in love for one night? where would you bring me and what would we eat? would we make out in your car like unruly teenagers?'

'what would it be like to love you? it's dumb, isn't it? i don't know. i've liked this bickering thing we had going on, and it's amusing to see you one-up me. i'm not sure if i want that to change and i'm not sure if you want us to, either.'

'maybe i'm wrong, and i'm the only one in this thing. this is so stupid, writing while he's sitting next to me. i'll regret this, maybe. goodnight.'

haechan sighs, closing the device in thought, confused at the words he wasn't exactly supposed to read. had you done this on purpose? he was sharing the laptop with you...

the boy brushed it off, placing the laptop on the vanity before adjusting your side of the duvet, hoping he could find the right words. with hesitant steps, he keeps to his side of the bed, thinking, thinking, thinking.

when he couldn't no more, haechan fell into the spell of slumber in the comfortable hotel room.

[day 34]

"tea?" he asks from the bathroom as the door clicks behind you, returning from the short hotel walk with a new keychain hanging from your sling bag.

"yeah sure, thanks."

the water runs as he fills up the kettle as the constant whir of the aircon and the conversation on the television keeps you company in the vast quietness of the room.

you weren't sure if you should say anything, but when you saw the dishevelled appearance of your roommate, you knew you had to bring up the argument and apology.

"haechan, about our... feelings. do you want to talk about them?" you whispered, a reply reaching your ears in the form of his spoon against the porcelain mug.

haechan hands you the drink wordlessly, sitting on the chair at the vanity before sipping cautiously at the tea. there are unexchanged glances between the two of you before he sighs at your expectant hand tapping the sheets.

"i think it's about time we did," he mumbled, dragging the laptop off the wooden table with anxiety. the other opened it without saying anything, catching you by surprise when the mouse hovers over your note.

"hae- donghyuck! no! what the hell?"

he holds up a hand and clicks on it anyway, making your heart drop to your stomach as he turned the device towards you.

"read the bottom." haechan whispers as you pull the laptop closer to you, settling it on your lap as he observed your expressions carefully.

'i read it, i'm sorry.' you look at him and lift up a hand to prepare to whack him, a defeated sigh escaping you before you carried on.

'was it wrong to read it? of course, and i cannot apologise more for doing shit like that when we still have unsolved tension between us in this small ass room. it was incorrect, but.'

'do you feel the same as me? is bickering all we have to do? why can't we work anything out? they're the questions i keep asking myself after i read your letter.'

'i guess i was too caught up in the fight and not wanting to be the loser that i... can't deny that i've never thought about wanting to get to know you, even if you were that sought out to be my destined enemy.'

'when we fought earlier, you kissed me. i know we said not to mention it, but, uhm, it was good. i liked it. i'm not sure if the reason why you did it was because of the reason you mentioned in the note, but at the time, i assumed it was to shut me up. i thought something would happen after, though you pushed me away and apologised right away.'

'it was a far off dream that i had, but i think it was after i bandaged your foot. you said that you didn't know what was going on in my mind, and i told you.'

'it was like, i was granted an insight into an alternate world, another universe where you didn't feel the strain, where you legitimately assumed i was going for your position.'

'you scoffed when i confessed, right then and there, on day 9. i was counting, too, and it was a scary, confusing dream. i think that's why i held it off as long as i could until your words puzzled and angered me further because you just didn't get it.'

'you scoffed and told me to get lost, pushing on my shoulders where we fought on the balcony for everyone to see. you never spoke to me, you never mentioned my article nor the interviews. we never joked over wine, and we always kept to our side of the bed.'

'i was convinced that heaven wanted me to stay away from you and your heart. maybe it was broken too many times, and you had someone up there looking out for you.'

'i feel like i'm copying off the textbook of some greek mythology starter pack, but i'm for real! no kidding.' you smiled, looking at him with nervous eyes at the small joke he put in.

'i guess whoever put that dream in my sleep really wanted us not to be together because i think i would've told you i liked you on the spot itself. i let my conscious get the best of me.'

'i know this is a lazy way of conveying my feelings, and i wished i could do it with words, but i feel like you wouldn't believe me otherwise. i rushed it this morning when you went on your morning walk around the hotel and when you let me know of your stroll in a soft voice, i wanted nothing more than to get you in my arms as we wake up to the housekeeping service.'

'i didn't want any more tension between us, and i didn't want to be interrupted by your alarm while we avoid each other more. it hurts seeing you escape the room in haste. you said it was weird for me to tag along with someone i hate, too, and that someone was you. i guess you found out why.'

looking up, you found him right in front of you, mouth dry from his reply to your letter. with a gulp, you leaned forward to meet his lips halfway.

"i'm sorry to whoever's up there," he whispers, prompting a grin and a laugh out of you.

the laptop is forgotten on the bed as haechan situates himself over you, clutching your shoulder gently while his lips move quickly, fast to make up for lost time.

"wait wait, wait, you're not playing me, are you?" you mumble in return, reluctantly pulling away while witnessing the way his eyes soften at your guard still up. haechan shakes his head forlornly, tongue pressing up against the side of his mouth nervously.

"no, i'm not, (y/n)," he says quietly with as much sincerity he can muster, removing his hand from your shoulder with a forced smile.

"okay." there's a shakiness to your voice, but when you bring his lips back to yours, it gives you a rush of confidence. your skin is burning up, and your hands can't stop wandering as his lips capture yours, repeatedly moving against yours like a trance.

you grant haechan access to your mouth with a whimper, melting into his embrace as his arms wrap tighter around your figure. his eagerness lingers when he pushes forward, straddling your lap as his leg nudges the laptop.

"wait, hyuck, wait, the laptop!" you joke, placing the device on the floor before getting back into the kiss with just as much fervour. within a minute or so, the other breaks away to say the words you so hated to hear:

"we... we need to talk. we can't just kiss the fight off, although i very much like to," haechan murmurs the last part, making you stifle a smile.

you nod quickly, repeating the word "okay" like a robot. your hands naturally travel from his arms down to his fingers, and you clutch them like your life depended on it.

"we have... established, that i like you, correct?" haechan whispers, scooting closer as his tea-ridden breath surrounds you. from here, you could even smell the buttered croissant he ate this morning.

it made you smile, something simple as that.

"why- why are you laughing (y/n)?" he asks anxiously, eyes darting to find the reason why you found this so funny.

"no. no no no, i'm thinking of... the croissant you ate just now, and," you sigh, resting your head on his broad shoulder.

"i'm thinking of the way your eyes light up when you show me the articles you idolise so much, and i'm thinking of the way you cuddle up to me whenever we watch stranger things."

"i'm thinking of the way you thought i wouldn't give you a chance, even though i've been pondering on the same thing as you. i'm thinking of the things that make up lee haechan, lee donghyuck. yes, you like me, and yes i like you, but i guess i haven't told you the reason."

"i hated you, i really did. i found every reason to convince my mind to hate you. gaining trust, signing up for events you didn't know shit about, sucking up to the seniors, stealing my friends when they didn't know your personality. the personality i didn't even want to know because i was too busy in my little bubble."

"assuming you'd want to get department head was the cherry on top, because why else would you want to tag along? that was the factor that convinced me and confirmed my suspicions from day one."

you grunt in opposition, clearly not liking the truth that was spilling from your lips. haechan deserved to know, however. you kept your eyes trained on his lap where his hands were holding yours in support, crumbling from the blindness that caused your hatred.

"so from then, the plane ride, immigration, the cab to the interview place, the cab back, the hotel room, my hatred for you boiled over." you listed, voice breaking as you looked haechan in the eye.

"it was stupid of me to assume, to assume the worst of you when i didn't even know you. i wasn't even sure why i felt so bitter looking at you, but the way you acted, the way you whined, worked me up so much that i figured that was how you were."

"now when i'm sitting here with the curtains drawn, i can see why you're so attractable and easy to talk to and easy-going and bright that my friends keep talking to you."

"i can see why the seniors turn to you because you're reliable and hardworking without uttering a single word."

"i can see why you wanted to hop on this flight with me because you're always curious about the world and how you can expand your skill set."

and as you said word after word, haechan observes you with a soothing hand against your forearms. his eyes shine for a different reason, for the lost time he could've had if the two of you didn't have this massive barrier. a massive barrier that's been up for the longest time.

brick by brick, the wall is being torn down. as you hold haechan's face in the stillness of the room, you feel closer to him than you've ever felt and his tears match your frustrated ones.

choking on sobs, delayed apologies were all you could whisper.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, really. we fought so bad that day, and i was so goddamn insensitive..." you sigh, swallowing a lump when his hand reached up to wipe the tears. with a blocked nose, you breathe shakily as housekeeping interrupts the moment.

you nod towards the door as he stood up slowly to reveal the same housekeeping girl. she cleaned up the bathroom and wardrobe quietly as the two of you stood awkwardly in the small space. she had left the sheets since everyone was practically stuck in, anyway.

haechan nudges you toward the door with a shove, shooting the same housekeeping girl a small smile and a bow as an apology to the previous run-in.

"he confessed his feelings?" she inquired softly, noticing the tear marks on your face.

you bit your lip, "yeah."

"that's good, he's finally not a coward." she laughs, folding the used towels and placing them with her.

you leaned against the door, asking for an explanation with your puzzled look.

"he was someone i liked, before. we had classes back in high school. it was just a dumb crush, honestly." the housekeeping girl shrugs, resting her head on her fist in thought.

"i think he liked me, and i did too, but we didn't do much except for exchange looks and flirt because both of us were just too scared." she shakes her head and adjusts the disinfectant spray bottle, fidgeting with the nozzle.

"i'm glad he had enough courage to admit his feelings."

nodding along to her statement, she bids you farewell as her figure fades with each step, leaving you with a sense of calmness to the end of this situation.

[day 38]

"is... is this okay?" haechan asks, arm hovering over your body while waiting for your confirmation. you smile and nod, sinking into his side as you venture in the third season of stranger things together.

"don't you think we should be working on our articles?" you whisper, looking up at him from where you were with raised eyebrows.

the boy opens and closes his mouth in thought, gesturing to the television with an exaggerated expression.

"stranger things, ma'am."

you click your tongue and sigh with a smile, turning back to the show as you try to relax for an online interview in a few hours.

[day 39]

"what do you say about my set-up?" haechan nudges you, proud of the hangout area he prepared on the balcony. although small, he had no trouble making it look comfortable.

with a smile, you pop open the wine to celebrate the last scheduled interview for the trip, clinking glasses with haechan in the setting sun.

the country you were supposed to return to was slowly opening up flights for those stranded overseas and as refreshing as a different environment was, you missed home and the warmness of it.

you missed the office and your desk. hell, you even missed the mediocre coffee from the pantry.

with the last of the wine finishing, haechan pours half into your glass and the other into his, clinking one last time before you one-shot the beverage.

the high of the alcohol is gradually brought down by the mellow atmosphere and colours of twilight. as pink and orange cross over on the horizon, haechan mumbles a low "c'mere" to you in the darkness.

you hum in response and get up from your seat, bringing a pillow with you as haechan shifts to make space. sinking naturally into his arms, you sigh while you try to contain a smile full of content.

"this is nice," you admit, the corners of your lips disobeying your command, prompting you to shoot him a smile. haechan nods against your hair, a comfortable arm around your waist while you trace the tan skin of his arm.

the other taps your waist repeatedly, turning in response as he whispers out a question that makes your heart melt.

"can i kiss you?" you grin, slipping a hand around his neck and pulling him in right away. haechan's caught by surprise, laughing into your lips and striving to savour the moment as much as he could.

a shout from across the hotel distracts you from the kiss. looking up, you realise it was the apartment resident opposite you shooting you a 'rock on' gesture.

"you guys are not fighting anymore! congrats!" you both stifle a snort as you wave back to the resident, sighing in relief when their balcony door slides shut.

"should we go inside, m'lady?" haechan giggles, replying in the form of a nod, cleaning up the area while you head in.

[day 41]

"i didn't think they'd be letting flights in so early," you mumble, folding your clothes neatly as your vision shifts to haechan... shoving his fair share of apparel into his luggage.

"donghyuck... what the hell?" you roll your eyes, shoving the boy softly as you took over the task at hand. switching personalities almost immediately, haechan fakes an interview segment with exaggerated tones.

"see, everyone, this is how you convince someone to do the work for you," the boy lays on the bed with a satisfied expression, "now i don't have to do anyth- ow!"

"if we ever live together, maybe i should punish you by doing the laundry and then folding it," you grunt, working at the speed faster than you expected while you fold shirt after shirt.

"are you proposing we move in together?" haechan peeks through an open eye, curiosity dripping from his tone. he tried to feign nonchalance but awaiting your answer felt like a weight on his heart.

your next words lifted that weight, a seemingly invisible force bringing his upper body off the bed as he stares at you in shock.

"maybe, not now but... in the future, maybe," you mumble the last part, focusing on the clothes to prevent the male from seeing the fluster on your face.

"for real?" haechan sits up, biting his lip to contain his excitement as your confirmation.

"we'll be all stupidly domestic and shit, and i'll say i love you five years from now before you go off for work if you want that and stuff," your voice goes lower and quieter, especially towards the end, biting off way more than you could chew.

"aw! i love you too!" haechan gushes, bringing you into an embrace as your hands go limp, scrambling to explain your emphasis on the 'future'.

"d-donghyuck, i meant the future, not now..." you manage to spit out, hoping you need not answer his queries any more. your mind blanks out at the current situation, wishing you hadn't said those dumb things.

he grins into your neck, "i know, i'm just answering for future me."

you groan and escape the hug with a roll of your eyes, "yuck, too cheesy!" the boy just lets out a laugh, watching the way you fold his clothes despite your initial annoyance.

[day 42]

suyeon switches between the two of you in disbelief, finger crooked at the ambiguity of "we like each other".

"wha-" suyeon doesn't get the chance to finish the sentence before you shoot her a thumbs up, grabbing haechan by the arm and your stuff with the other.

you were happy to leave the office after a quick debrief since you two had reported to the office right after arriving at the airport, relieved when you heard he'd spare a few more days for your articles to be cleaned up.

"so, (y/n), what would you like to do now?" haechan looks at you through the reflective material of the elevator, observing the nervous wringing of your fingers.

you're glad for the material protecting your face because there's a smile that you struggle to keep as his soft, gentle voice carries through the quiet space.

the anxiety ends when the lift sounds, prompting your eyes to trail down his arm. your hand moves on its own accord, grabbing his last finger with yours as you proceed into the lift sheepishly, not missing the way haechan's eyes show his bright smile behind the mask.

"maybe i'll get to know you more, lee donghyuck."

haechan lets out a gasp, "have you not learned about me enough? scandalous."

you feign a punch in his direction, the luggage beside you tripping over its wheels due to your swift movement. the only response you get is a giggle from the other as he tightens his pinky around yours, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek right above your face mask just as the elevator doors open.

"man, i really do want to punch you now," you mutter as you let haechan lead you, wanting nothing more than to rest in the arms of your enemy-turned-friend? enemy-turned-someoneyoulike?

you weren’t exactly sure.

he doesn't answer during the walk to the main road, nor the ride back to your home, the only constant thing being the way he admires your profile in the taxi, shrugging when you counter with a playful "what?".

"nothing," haechan grins.

[there are more days to come]

sure, day forty-one may not have been the day you fell in love with haechan, nor the day where he outwardly claims you as his lover.

but, taking it slow never hurt anyone, either.

you know it in the way he tells you he can't go in unless he's invited and you see it in the way he asks if he can switch the television on while you prepare some drinks.

like the hotel, you know it in the way he asks if he can kiss you and the way he deepens his kisses with caution.

you appreciate it in the way he quickly apologises for a personal question, while visibly relaxing as you brush it off with a smile.

with hours pass, day forty-two becomes day forty-three, and haechan remains as chivalrous as always.

days pass, and you submit your articles. weeks pass, and you get to know the boy more and more. months pass, and you feel his love in the way he plays with your fingers in the dark and pulls you close under the sheets.

even if you hadn't acknowledged the love between the two of you, that note you wrote half-drunk matched the way you felt now—with how your heart clenches up and with how your grin never leaves your face with haechan around.

there are more days to come with lee haechan, lee donghyuck, even if it meant getting stuck together in a hotel room with unsaid words.

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pavlikovskaya · 4 years

Text

the secret history live blogged

forever mad that i got spoilered so much on this book.

anyway hello! and welcome to this … shit fest of the secret history by donna tartt aka the biggest letdown of my life

enjoy! i didn’t

ok whaatttt the fuck. he was walked over?? he was packed and squished under ice?? WHAT DID THIS BUNNY GUY DO TO MAKE Y’ALL SO MAD????? istg what the fuck. cruel cruel fate

four against one, i knew y’all were assholes. you sounded like assholes before i even knew what your names were.

i have to say, i’m not a very big fan on the beginning: hello, my name is richard, i am 28, this is my story. makes it sound like he’s in an AA meeting, but i’ll let this one slide.

years at home dispensable like a plastic cup? fictional history and upbringing tales? [*clears throat in relatable*]

my father was mean, my house ugly, my mum didn’t give me attention, must kill someone to cope and serve the aesthetic™ of rejected, unloved child, brooding and mad at the world. got it.

if richard, plain and poor is the one who kills the rich asshole bc he’s a rich asshole, i might relate to him more than i thought.

[*slams book shut*] okay. okay. am i gonna have to google every other phrase in this godforsaken history book or is donna gonna go easy on my ass?

sounds like a university i would love to go to. oh, pardon me, CoLlEgE.

wait, they’d pay him back for the plane if he GOT IN??? and if he didn’t well then what, soz dude, tough luck , such is life, see ya never? makes a lot of sense. should pay him back regardless imo but hey, i had to pay £50 six times to audition at universities who, all six times, rejected me, so.

three days on a bus and arrival at six in the morning? i cannot fathom a worse scenario.

this prof conducts his selection on a personal level rather than on an academic one, said with a note of sarcasm? is he … you know … ?

ahhhh these saucy saucy tea spilling french people, gotta love em. ‘listen, i know i’ve only met you three minutes ago, but i’m bout to spill some serious tea which i must ask you to keep to yourself and never mention for i have some formidable enemies in the literature division, yes, my very own department, but we all actually love each other. you know, in a very shakespearian ‘i shall murder you at the end of the play but for now, let’s make sweet love under the stars as a witch friend of mine who will later murder you watches’ way. all very platonic. but don’t say a word of it.’

who do you think was with morrow when richard came to see him in the lyceum and what were they talking about? GODDAMN IT, this french bastard put me in a gossipy mood.

bunny — short for edmund…….

god, i love a redhead.

richard and me being whipped by francis and his long, flapping black coats, love to see it.

‘pseudo-intellects and teenage decadents abounded and black clouting was de rigueur’ can I enrol ~now~????

francis talks to cats and bunny yells from his window down at the incest twins to stop snogging in the garden. i can’t wait to see which one am I at the end of the book

henry and julian driving off together? do i smell something…. gay?

THEY WRITE WITH FOUNTAIN PENS????? [*flashbacks from my childhood intensify*].

i do not understand most of these references or sentences and if the whole book is like this, i will throw myself out the window in attempted suicide even though i live on the ground floor.

i have absolutely no idea what they’re on about.

hwhat

francis in black cashmere and cigarette smoke brushed past him and almost touched his arm. how bloody delicious is this??

‘give him some flowers and he’ll enrol you.’ ok, julian is definitely the gay prof everyone falls for.

at this stage, i would rater have voted we kill henry, not bunny, but we’ll see.

‘i was tired of being poor.’ [*buys a tie with pictures of men hunting deer on it*] ‘that’s better.’

‘i believe that it is better to know one book intimately than a hundred superficially.’ donna tartt gave me the book and the reason both.

constantly chuckling at the way richard is so completely mesmerised and intimidated by francis to the point that he’ll duck into a doorway to let him pass even though they’re going to the same lesson.

I don’t know how a ‘bostonian voice’ is supposed to sound like so francis will be slightly british in my mind for the rest of the book.

cubitum eamus? cubitum. eamus? CUBITUM?? EAMUS????? OH! GOD! HELP ME! THE SWEET SWEET HOMOEROTIC FORESHADOWING OF IT ALL!!! throwback to when, in a much too similar vein, boris, upon being asked by theo to say something in russian for him, he said ‘fuck you up the ass’. my heart is racing with yearn. i can’t fucking believe i just read this. it’s time to bust out the annotation tabs again.

oh my gooooddd whAt is henry’s problem????? he reminds me slightly of number one from the umbrella academy, but in a meaner, more show-offy, bastardish way that’s supposed to showcase his superior intelligence over all mortals like fuck you, go read harry potter and chill.

‘meke (s.p.) you Wear it’? i take it meke is actually make but what on earth is (s.p.)? google gave me 238 possible definitions for that acronym and, needless to say, i didn’t bother.

i love how donna’s main characters are funny essentially bc they’re bitches towards other people they deem inferior to them in their internal monologues.

if you were drunk and ‘slam-dancing’ at a party, i don’t have to be stuck up or elitist to judge you and hate on you. even less so if you throw your beer in my face.

‘love that jacket, silk, isn’t it?’ ‘yep, my grandfather’s. totally not from that annoying girl in my dorm whose mate your mates beat up at a party last term for shoving camilla and throwing a beer in her face and who probably only gave me the jacket because she wants to fuck me, nope.’

‘let me get that door for you.’ that’s it, that’s the tweet.

when bunny said they should round up the ‘officious fags and burn them at the stake’ i yelled the loudest what the fuck i’ve ever yelled at a book. i can see now why they killed him. and i bet that’s only the tip of the iceberg.

okay, his true colours are starting to show. it’s even more unnerving when i think about the fact that like half of this stuff is supposed to be true.

called it, they’re boning.

i can’t wait until francis locks lips with richard. i am simply tingling for it. i hope he and camilla have a threesome with richard at this country house. oh wait no, they’re all here. eh, maybe another time.

oh, we finally get some juicy inside gossip

if francis and richard don’t fuck in that gorgeous immense library, i will riot.

okay, what’s henry’s deal? he’s nice now? and he’s oddly … interested in/caring towards richard? like who the fuck says ‘i hope you slept well’ without at least a little affection towards them.

AHAHAHAAHA, NOW I GET ALL THOSE MOON LANDING QUESTIONS ON THE TSH RELATED UQIZZES I STUPIDLY TOOK. I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS REAL. imagine them lot in present day completely bewildered and confused at the fact that the whole world is in lockdown for some weird fucking reason. this is the funniest shit ever, swear to god.

dogs get heart attacks?

wow they’re being dicks. that shady shit they’re doing’s so fucking rude aajksdhfkfh and to think i had initially thought richard was the ‘leader’ of their group...

okay, they’re either all into bdsm or they’re some odd breed of late vampires who don’t have much of the traits/qualities of ‘classic’ vampires as they have possibly diminished over the centuries as the species was becoming extinct. maybe witches. hm. or occultists. I REALLY DON’T KNOW!!

richard be like ‘what should I tell you?’ well—and this is merely a suggestion—, how about you start with what they’re actually doing when they’re not hanging out with you?????

i can’t wait for bunny to figure/find out richard’s not actually rich and be a dick about it.

two months??? what kind of bonkers winter vacation between terms is that???

is being constantly cold part of the dark academia aestehtic? cos it certainly seems to be.

what the fuck are these (sp)s bunny keeps putting in his letters??

i hope somebody (henry, or maybe francis? as something that would bring them together?) is fake rich too.

ouuuuu here comes the dark, mental stuff.

richard dropped out of drama to study the classics. if we were villains is a group of people studying shakespeare. coincidence? i think not. it is with dread that i think at the possibility that i might like the other more because so far, i can’t say i’m heavily impressed with tsh.

now i’m all for weird, fancy names, but marchbanks is really an odd one. who the fuck looks at their newborn baby and goes ben? nah. tom? no. MARCHBANKS! perfect.

henry winter saves richard from a piping cold winter. ah, don’t bother, i’ll do it myself [*jumps out the window*]

henry dislikes electric lights? smokes cigarettes without filter? reads milton translated into latin ‘just to see if a language with no noun cases could possibly support the structural order he attempts to impose’? can this dude be any more pretentious?

BUNNY! IT’S BUNNY! HE’S FAKE RICH THE BASTARD! ALL THAT ‘oops, forgot my wallet’ BULLSHIT, I THOUGHT IT WAS A TEST FOR RICHARD OR JUST RICH PEOPLE LEECHING OFF OTHERS (why spend yours when you can spend theirs?) BUT NOOOO, HE’S BROOOOKE! AND AN ASSHOLE! WHAT AN ASSHOLE!!! serves him right, the asshole (that gay people being burnt at the stake comment really bothered me despite the fact that i laughed). and not only is he broke and leeching off of henry, he leeches in the most shameless, greedy, extravagant and ignorant way, ordering the most expensive thing on the menu fuck out of here.

ha! he got fat the bastard. found some sugar daddy to sustain you during your last month in italy or what?

this rabbit dude sure has some big balls for a broke ass bitch.

‘let me see your head wound.’ vs ‘your arm.’

‘that sort of tension which i, being rather more disinclined that way than not, am quick to pick up on. i had caught a strong breath of it from francis, a whiff of it at times from julian (…)’ sounds like we got another one boys, a straight dude with the best gaydar in the world. that being said, julian is the fakest bitch in the book so far.

this secrecy is killing the ever-loving shit out of me. argentina one way?? whY

lol if you’re gonna steal his book with the intention of having him come back to the apartment and see all that shit, at least don’t put it in such an obvious place where he couldn’t have possibly missed it. for such a smart guy, you sure are dumb, dude.

francis’ mother be like ‘give that bad boy a kiss from me’ and i’m like HE BETTER.

richard the worst liar. just say your mum called for fuck’s sake! you could get your boyfriend in trouble!

cheesecake cover: ‘please do not steal this, i am on financial aid.’ bunny: [*steals it*] the cheesecake: [*sucks*] me: serves you fucking right, pig.

THINKING ABOUT HIS HANDICAP. I’M YELLING. funniest thing donna tartt ever wrote.

i bet they’re all there sat at the table like nothing happened and weren’t supposed to leave anywhere at all.

called it! motherfuckers.

what the hell is going on. are they a gang of assassins or something?

richard: ‘you killed somebody, didn’t you?’ henry: [*laughs as if it was the most ridiculous idea in the world and how could you possibly suggest such a thing*] yep

bunny: gays are weirdly obsessed with food, don’t you think? also bunny: [*gets excluded from the bacchanal because he couldn’t stop eating*]

okay. i can see now why this book started the whole dark academia aesthetic

aight, that’s all good and great (far from it) but WHERE IS MY FRANCIS CONTENT????

going through the motions of hating and liking henry every other chapter.

everybody: [*burning clothes, cleaning the car, running this way and that to get rid of evidence*] francis: aight y’all imma take a power nap real quick cool? cool

there is hardly anything in the world i hate more than loose-of-tongues. bunny and that bitch ass hely from the little friend. god, i want to sock each and every single one of them in their stupid bloody loud mouths.

i want to know, i really want to know if there are any bunny apologists or … s…. s… [*grits teeth*] stans out there. don’t worry, nothing will happen to you, i just wanna talk.

if it’s henry and richard and not francis and richard,,,,, i will riot.

boy this henry guy smokes a lot…. more than me in my prime.

as if this dude reenacted the murder he wasn’t even present at in the lobby of a hotel just to torture henry. i can’t believe this character is still alive and has been for so long.

FINALLY! one francis moment that indicated there will be no more francis moments…. .

funny that, reading the secret history put something into perspective about the goldfinch for me.

i love how richard just casually throws it in there whenever he happens to mention camilla that he loves her and wants to kiss her and that she’s so beautiful and blah blah blah and then it’s never brought up again ever because he’s constantly going on and on about henry.

wait, don’t tell me it’s happening now, in the middle of the book! that would be most unexpected as there’s a whole entire book following.

henry is such a stone cold bitch, i wonder where they put his heart when they made him, in his ass?

don’t tell me henry went boxer dogs on JULIAN?!?!?! he wouldn’t. … would he?

i don’t know. i get it, obviously, the gravity of the situation, but going as far as killing him to silence him is a bit … extreme in my opinion.

thank you, charles, for being the only voice of reason in this madness.

okay, i understand it’s in richard’s best interest not to be involved, but they called him there to what, make him listen to all this and then send him on his merry way?

charles: well, if you wake up intending to murder someone at two o’clock, you hardly think of what you’re going to feed the copse for dinner. [*crickets*] francis: hey, how about asparagus?

henry: someone’s coming. quick! act normal! richard: [*turns to inspect the trunk of a tree*] [*footsteps approach*] richard: [*inspection of tree intensifies!!*]

you’re a bit late, bunny, just saying.

and now what the fuck is the rest of the book about? what do we do, let’s run, let’s stay, let’s go to the police, what do we do with him?

i love how richard describes himself as part of the process: we dwelt on it, we convinced ourselves, we devised plans when in reality, he was only there as an attaché, he wasn’t included much, almost at all in the actual planning process of it other than to give his insight on the poison route because henry thought it was his area of expertise so to speak when, really, it wasn’t and then was told about the other plan because they simply thought he should know. even then henry tells him ‘you can go now, if you like’ because there wasn’t anything they sort of needed him for anymore since he wasn’t going to be there, he was just a pair of ears. i like to think he was there in hopes to maybe dissuade them, try to stop them, tell them how mad it is, tell them there’s another way, but he didn’t do much of that either (not that I think he would’ve succeeded anyway, had he tried, henry’s one stubborn motherfucker). he didn’t come up with shit, he wasn’t supposed to even be there, i think, much less contribute in any way. had bunny not told him about the bacchanal, richard would have probably found out about it after it was already done, he was only included for the fucks of it and yet, he talks as if he was right there in the room with them, brainstorming ideas how to kill him. and i get how it only comes from a sense of obvious guilt because he knew about it, he was there and didn’t do anything to stop it, but he’s by far not one to have agreed to the whole thing or condoned it in any way from what he’s told us in book one. he himself says in the very same paragraph that he only watched. he’s very much a dark academia nick carraway type of character and i hate it. because i like him. he deserves better.

i’m pretty sure that the reason that serial killer autobiography you picked up in an airport was bereft of details is because no publishing house would allow such lurid specifications that might shock, disgust, enrage or give ideas to the reader in their book, not because the author is shy, richard, but ok, let’s move on. actually no, let’s not. you can’t expect the autobiography of a killer to only tell you about the murders, especially since in this particular instance, he was caught and went to prison. of course he’s going to tell you more about that than the killings, have you any idea what prison life is like? how much it eats away at your soul? how it crushes your spirit if you have one and how hard it is to get over? the time he spent in jail is going to haunt him forever and after such a long time in there, however long it was, you hardly think about your crime as anything but a huge mistake that was not worth the torment if you’re not a downright psychopath which, since he came out and wrote a book about it, doesn’t seem to be the case here but i guess you’ll find out all about it soon enough.

OH! a francis moment???? could this be it? please dear god may this be it.

it wasn’t, but there’s another one!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

‘it’s fun, i promise you.’ [*dies*]

if this is it, if that’s all, i am not forgiving this book.

‘i tried to pull him out but it was no good; his head lolled back uselessly’ YEAH. BECAUSE HE’S DEAD, RICHARD. [*scoffs*] ‘uselessly’

i wish i held any of my teachers and professors in at least half the high regard henry holds julian. i also wish they were half as competent and passionate about teaching as julian.

I DON’T BELIEVE ‘HE WAS JUST THERE’. IT’S BORIS AND THEO AT 6 AM IN THAT NEW YORK BAR ALL OVER AGAIN. HE’S ONLY SAYING THAT BECAUSE RICHARD WENT ALL ‘YOU’RE NOT HOT’ ON HIS ASS AND I REFUSE TO BELIEVE OTHERWISE. if they don’t kiss again—

i can’t help but admire the way they communicate sensitive information to each other in ancient greek, they sound like characters from jane austen novels while talking about drugs and saving face from tabloids and gossip, it’s rather amazing.

quite pointless to go through all that trouble to hide the cigarettes and deny having been smoking when the smell will be there no matter what and she’ll know for sure. i swear, all these seemingly smart ass people are actually idiots

my question is why would anyone, drunk or not, for any reason, leave the top down in the rain? why? what possible pleasure could one get from driving in the middle of the rain with rain actually pouring down on them?

isn’t linoleum a bit tacky for a house that looks like it’s been in architectural digest?

why is charles so on edge? why are they all always hiding??? camilla and her late night 3 am phone calls, her secret phone code with henry, charles mysteriously going out for cigarettes so brusquely without a word in the middle of the night and refusing to talk about it, what are they all always hiding?! nobody trusts one another with anything, it’s very annoying, to be honest. aren’t they supposed to be super best friends? you’d think that after a bacchanal and a double homicide, you wouldn’t keep secrets from one another, but i guess not.

ah, shame. was kind of hoping for some sneaky richard/francis basement action, but alas. what’s their ship name anyway, richis?

i just spoilered myself again, twice, by going through the tsh tag on tumblr and then looking for francis/richard fanfics on ao3 and finding out that francis marries? gets with? a girl who’s apparently called fucking priscilla. donna tartt really has a knack for weird fancy names, huh? i’m here for it tbh

richard you fucking snitch! you had one job!!!!!!

why the fuck are they still keeping him in the dark about shit? henry and charles quarrelled and charles is in jail and henry still won’t tell him what’s so bad about it and why he wants richard to handle all this shit instead of him and why bunny’s murder still matters and why why just why are they still using him as their pawn??

seriously, this exchange was about the worst they’ve had so far. he himself knows it: ‘there was a silence during which I felt acutely the hopelessness of ever trying to get to the bottom of anything with henry. he was like a propagandist, routinely withholding information, leaking it only when it served his purposes.’ THEN WALK AWAY. SAY NO. PUT YOUR FOOT DOWN. FUCKING—UGH!!!!!!!

they’re all so shamelessly using him… i can’t read. it’ll kill him, one way or another.

these ungrateful little shits i swear to god. richard bails him out, he’s all thankful and sweet when he wants him to do ‘this one little favour’ of taking him to his francis’ house so he can break in and when richard’s like i don’t have a car, he immediately turns sour and passive aggressive like you know what?! richard hasn’t slept all night and all morning waiting for your ass to go to court cos you were a drunken idiot and decided YET AGAIN that driving in that state is a great idea so he can bail you out and when you are finally out, you start being fussy and then it’s all ‘right. thanks a lot’??? richard doesn’t fucking need this shit! y’all are horrible friends. he’s not your bloody servant. how about you take that stick and privilege out of your asses and start treating him a bit more kindly, huh???

‘henry made me swear not to tell.’ WHAT. WHAT. BITCH, GET THE FUCK OUT.

this is by far the most toxic friendship i’ve ever heard of.

oh wow that kiss was hot. i thought it was just a speculation that they were incestuous with each other, but i-i guess not.

FINALLY it gets interesting. Mr Abernathy spilling some piping hot tea mmm

he literally just said i’d sleep with you if you got drunk enough to let me. oh dear god help me.

oh fuck it got sad. It’s patrick and brad all over again ugh always happens to the best of gays

finally richard my boy starts hating them, as he should. except francis, you’re a dick in that respect. he’s only joking for fuck’s sake, don’t get all butthurt, jesus. sensitive much?

uuuuuu tunts Tunts TUNTS! shit is hitting the fan. henry, henry, henry, our ‘golden boy’. nothing but a crook himself, the motherfucker. i’ve been waiting for this reveal since the beginning of the fucking book. if they gang up on him and kill him, i will never stop laughing.

it’s as if he’s begging to be excluded and hated, i swear. why is he being such a prick? does he love her? is that it? then there are a BILLION other ways to go about it, he doesn’t have to be such a shady bitch!! besides, wasn’t he in cahoots with julian?

‘i was depressed, i thought if i slept here it might make me feel better.’ that’s so precious tho….. funny, but precious. such child-like innocence in this grown ass intoxicated man, i melt.

clever, luring him out of the playground under the false pretext of a drink when he’s had plenty. think like a drunk

the only consistent, recurring and ever-present elements in donna tartt’s books are the hors d’oeuvres.

it’s so cute how charles needs him, i—

girls be like: watching a film, listening to a podcast, talking on the phone, having dinner, figure painting, filing nails, writing an essay and doing their makeup all at the same time

this so called love he feels for camilla is so unfounded and feeble and just … it seems so out of the fucking blue every single time he mentions it, i can’t read this shit. IT’S SO SEE-THROUGH!!

okay WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK DID I JUST READ. WHAT. THE ACTUAL. MOTHERFUCKING. FUCK. one second he’s ‘i love her so much’ the next he wants to strangle and rape her?????????????? i have zero goddamn words. i am fucking speechless. i don’t think i have ever been this confused at something since i watched the turning. i don’t think you realise quite how done i am with this fucking book at this point.

i think i do hate henry more than bunny and i’m afraid i’ll like if we were villains better.

richard: [*takes sleeping pills*] also richard: [*surprised he can’t keep up with the film he started watching after taking sleeping pills*]

‘look,’ said francis. ‘let’s just go, if we leave now we can be in montreal by dark. nobody will ever find us.’ vs ‘well, i’m not going,’ said boris serenely. ‘fuck that, i’m running away. do you want to come?’

this henry bitch is the most difficult piece of shit i’ve ever fucking encountered. ‘you mean, it’s something you need to tell me in private?’ oh FUCK OFF AND STEP OUTSIDE, FOR FUCK’S SAKE. IT’S ONE THING I ASK OF YOU, YOU TWAT.

huh, i thought he was doing this shit on purpose, leaving the page face down on the table so that julian could see it, i thought it was some sick twisted plan of his.

lmao called it. everybody saw through julian’s façade except richard and the others and i completely understand. in a fashion much like julian’s, i think he knew that, he saw it, but just chose to ignore it because the image he posed and richard himself constructed of him in his mind was much more favourable to what he really was. i mean, fuck, who the fuck says ‘i hope we are all ready to leave the phenomenal world and enter into the sublime’ with their whole chest and mean it?

if you think he’s not coming, why sit in silence staring out the window, ignoring everyone and wasting everybody’s time instead of telling them from the very start this piece of information you have on hand that could save everybody a lot of trouble, time and overthinking? why be all mysterious and enigmatic about it? just tell them from the start, you’re not in a film for fuck’s sake……..

charles, one of the four of them (henry, camilla, julian and himself) might be the one i despise the least, almost like had he not been so brutal towards camilla,,,, but i don’t know if i can trust her, that whole scene seemed … staged somehow. i don’t know. i don’t know

didn’t expect henry would turn on julian too though. first real thing he’s done all book.

agatha

christie

writes

good

mysteries.

richard does seem like the type of fellow who would grow up in a household where his dad would strike his mum for no fucking reason.

okay so did henry punch him for that comment or not? what was all that father beating mother bit for?

#boysweekendinthecountry! 🤪 #partytime! #ignoringourproblems! #woooo!!!

oh my fucking god chARLES!!!

yes, henry, great, brilliant, fucking splendid idea to antagonise the man pointing a gun at you.

MY PAUL SMITH SHIRT!!!!!!!!! AHAHAHASFSHDGFDK

i love how absolutely nobody noticed fucking richard BLEEDING RIGHT NEXT TO THEM

‘expected everyone to stop and look at me. no one did.’ and they never will. that’s your whole friendship summed up in two lines. you don’t matter to them, you never did, you’re absolutely unimportant. just a tool, a pawn, a nobody. sorry you had to get shot to realise that.

‘’he shot me.’ somehow, this remark did not elicit the dramatic response i expected. before i had the chance to elaborate—’ ELABORATE WHAT? ELABORATE WHAT?! THAT’S ALL YOU NEED TO SAY!! GOD, this hurts to read. this angers me beyond words, but it also fucking hurts so bad…

nothing, not even getting shot can make richard lose his wit

disGUSTING henry and camilla moment. I HATE THEM

oh shit. did not see that coming. well, glad that’s over.

ugh, time to read how francis got hetero married :\

[*chokes*] DUE TO THE VERY EXCELLENT EXCUSE OF HAVING A GUNSHOT WOUND IN THE STOMACH I DIDN’T TAKE MY FRENCH EXAM YAY!!! god, i fucking love Richard.

the thing is, right, i read that line, ‘i managed to get out of taking my french exams the next week’ about three or four times and somehow, the following line or even the words ‘gunshot wound’ never made it to my eyes! i don’t understand how! but i’m completely happy about that given the fact that i spoiler myself on every single book i read by reading ahead like an idiot..

how much do you want to bet that it was the inn keep who called the ambulance and not those fuckers? because of course henry, dead henry’s more important than slowly dying, almost dead but not quite richard.

despite everything, it sounds like he had a nice summer in brooklyn. good for him. god knows he deserved it, the poor guy.

yeah no, fuck henry’s post-mortem hero narrrative.

lol, at least he got a nice car out of it. this book shows me once again that things happen just the way they should happen.

OH MY FUCKING GOD NO. NO. NO. NO. NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!! I CANNOT READ. I DO NOT SEE. I REFUSE TO COMPREHEND THIS PIECE OF INFORMATION.

i will not say a WORD on this, much less his letter. i am hurt, i am wounded, i am grieving, my head is full of thots and i cannot speak. i died on this bed.

ugh [*rolls eyes*] this fucking guy again with his sudden, out of my ass declarations of love towards camilla. JUST GIVE IT UP ALREADYYYYYYYY!!! TELL IT TO SOMEONE WHO CARES!!! (francis) i wouldn’t be surprised if she was married or engaged and just didn’t bother to mention it ‘because he never asked’ or some bullshit excuse like that.

I HATE HENRY I HATE HENRY I HATE HENRY I HATE HENRY [*deep breath*] I FUCKING HATE HENRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

he’s telling me about all these people and where they ended up after graduation but not only do i not give a single solitary fuck, i actually don’t know who the fuck he’s talking about?? like who the fuck is bram guernesnesnica? rooney wayne? what the fuck do i care what jack jud and frank did?

the only people i do remotely care about are the professors (the saucy french teacher and the boring, senile dude who wouldn’t shut up and who kept referring to richard as ‘jerry’ in his grad school recommendations letter ahahah that is the content i signed up for, not dumb and dumber’s bar or whatever) and the cat charles left at francis’ country house who lives in a ten fucking room apartment in boston.

love how ionic the whole marion storyline turned out to be. marred another corcoran who looked just like bunny and had a daughter who, despite having her and his mother’s name ended up being nicknamed also bunny. i’m sorry, i just—i have to laugh.

[*slams fists on the table*] THE AGENTS??? YOU’RE GONNA TELL ME ABOUT THE BLOODY FBI AGENTS???!!!!!! CAN THIS BOOK PLEASE JUST FUCKING END ALREADY??????!!!!!!!!

a dream. a dream. if it’s a dream of henry i will personally shoot you and make sure i aim a little higher than your abdomen this time.

[*shoots the book*]

oh, you died and suddenly you have a sense of humour?

‘that information is classified’ [*shoots a torpedo at the book*]

‘are you happy?’ / ‘not very.’ vs ‘are you happy here?’ / ‘not particularly.’

okay. so. final thoughts: fuck this book.

good night

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