#this isn’t highschool!!! he was a guest lecturer!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kreidewaltz · 3 years

Text

top of the castle | t.k.

pairing. tsukishima kei x f!reader

about. your only goal is to be on top of everything. every change he gets, he pushes your buttons and does things that stirs something inside you. it's totally not your heart beating wild in your chest.

word count. 6.3k (this is my baby)

genre & warnings. fluff. angst. swearing. sky castle and highschool au. lots of swearing. happy ending. parents are kind of a jerk. subtle pining. enemies to lovers. bestfriend!kuroo. film major!tsukishima and y/n.

author's note. ik i posted this super late but here it is!! this is part of the promptly yours collab by issy :D ty for being understanding kisses you !? this is my first time writing an e2l go easy on me pls :( quick overview: sky castle is a neighborhood for the rich, and they do everything to be ahead of the other families! big thank you to @rintsuru for beta-ing this mwah i'll edit some stuff here tomo :') reblogs & feedbacks are appreciated ty <3

part of the promptly yours collab ✪

“during the dinner, entertain the guests, and kaa-san will be proud of you.” your mom says whilst brushing your hair multiple times. she sends you a threatening smile in the mirror which forms annoyance in your mind, yet a fake smile ghosts your lips. you clench your fist on your pockets, fingernails digging hard into your palms. last night she came to your door, unannounced, and mentioned that she’ll be having a private party after sending your applications to SNU Medical School.

“time to relax after working hard, a reward too for the parents.” you recall her saying, while running her fingers on your head before she shuts the door. the excitement evident in her movements when you hear the repetitive clicks of her heels. you play with the hem of your pajamas as you mimic your mother’s voice in distress, huffing after while you cross your arms on your chest. if she sees you roll your eyes or heave a disappointing sigh, expect a lecture about manners that'll go on for a few minutes.

when you entered middle school, she started to be strict and always repeated that you’re “only going to be successful when you’re on the top of the castle”. the metaphor she often forces in your mind—enjoying your success and growing money. watching other people force their way to the entrance, but this is where her persona morphs into something sickly sweet. she uses her shit ton of money to compromise, and those people leave as if they never disturbed your castle. in her eyes, you’re the embodiment of an independent, hardworking, and stepping on others kind of student which is something you want to erase.

“sit straight, act interested, act modest—”

“bring down the rivals, except kuroo.” you cut your mother off while a subtle smirk appears on your face, running your makeup brush on your powder blush before putting it to your cheeks. she stops for a moment, the silence makes your palms sweat on your school blazer, but relief washes over you when she murmurs okay, good. the moment is interrupted when your dad screams on the other side, assuming that he’s finding her and checking the table set-up for approval. she gives your shoulder a harsh squeeze before leaving you alone in your room, looking at yourself in the mirror.

“bring down tsukishima.” raising your brows, you try to keep yourself sane because people saying his name irks you. his stupid voice and looks down on you just because of the height difference. he looks down on you when he’s done harm to you years ago, and to the Hara family. when the school year started, you had no clue that he attended Yongsan School for Seoul. his presence immediately annoys you to your bones and when he talks, you have the urge to tape his mouth and watch him struggle and enjoy that he’s suffering. when he enters the room, you almost stand up from your seat and protest but you keep your lips shut. attempting to bottle your resentment and continue with the basic introductions and orientations for the school year.

what he did in middle school is the main factor why you resent him.

“your highness!” he yells as soon as you enter the classroom, sending tsukishima a sarcastic smile before you sit comfortably. you try your best to not be grumpy at eight in the morning. good thing that the teacher isn’t here, or you’re in for another lecture about that you should get along and be humble with your classmates.

lame lame lame.

“yeah, i’m a princess hm!” you point a finger at him while you put on a grumpy expression before putting your hands on your waist. huffing a few seconds later, you look through your bag and prepare your cute notebook and pencil. you begin to check the schedule for the day on the first page before reviewing the past few lessons, skimming it with attention that you mentally practice yourself, and clench both of your fists in excitement when you got the right answer. you cross your legs while checking your notes, eager to start the day because you're feeling productive, and seeing the stamps of stars on the first page makes you ecstatic.

“hara y/n, did you hit tsukishima?” your teacher’s voice is stern which scares you, but what frightens you is your mother hearing about the issue. you fiddle with your fingers as you rub your eyes, desperately trying to hold the tears threatening to fall. you and tsukishima are left alone in the classroom, with the teacher sitting across from you. the beautiful sunset view from the window is giving you temporary solace, releasing a sigh before answering.

“no, sensei! he- he hit me!” your voice unintentionally going higher, not realizing that you’re getting defensive. you stand from your chair and stare at him, fuming with anger when you see the smirk forming on his face. the teacher sighs in disappointment since he knows you’re one of the top students this year. your attendance streak is all green, never missing a day. what they don’tknow is how your mother forces you to always go to school no matter what happens, that school is the only path to success.

i hate tsukishima, hmph.

“she did, sensei. you saw her holding the book.” your patience is on thin ice because he has the audacity to lie in front of the teacher when he knows he did it. he slaps the book against the back of your desk and you feel the impact on your shoulders, resulting in a high pitched scream and break the momentum of your classmates writing and your teacher narrowed his eyes at you, shaking his head in displeasure before writing on the blackboard. then you hastily grab the book he's holding and about to throw it on his desk but gasps echo on the room. from their perspective, you're about to hit tsukishima with his book while he's looking across, focused on the discussion that's interrupted.

"you hit me with the book!" frustration slowly seeping out while you bounce on your desk angrily. your pigtails get tangled which fuels your irritation. life likes bad boys, you thought while mocking him by copying his expressions, forgetting for a moment that your teacher is watching you make faces on your own. tsukishima waves his hand, fisting his other hand to put it in the pocket of his purple jacket. the loud bell rings and ends the discussion, and you sulk on your seat while he prepares his things. your teacher walks out of the classroom to call your mom, you assume, because of the way he takes a glimpse at you while holding his phone to his ear.

i don't want to go home.

“i didn’t do it!” you keep repeating the same sentence as you set a foot in the house. your small hands clutch the strap of your backpack tight, agitated on what she’ll have to say on what happened. your teacher called your mom and had a quick discussion while you bowed to your mom before going home. the awkward silence caused you to grab your backpack and stand behind her, looking down on your shoes to distract yourself. when the both of you entered the car, she didn’t spare you a glance, even on the rearview mirror. the good thing is your favorite song is playing which soothes your worries temporarily. but the car ride was mentally exhausting and your nervousness kept boiling in your chest.

"the one time life is well! and you had to do that." sitting on the edge of your bed, disappointment and frustration join forces in your head while you clench your fist tight. tears trail down your cheeks freely and you have to grip your shorts so you wouldn't explode. hearing her sigh loudly makes you look at your hands to distract yourself from thinking while you sniffle quietly to yourself because your mom tells you to mask your true feelings with other people.

"i'm your princess! i didn't do it!" bouncing on your bed to defend yourself while she doesn’t say anything. she goes to your study table and grabs some of your books and pens. you looked at her in distress, tears forming in your eyes, since your mom's punishments are something you avoid if you have the chance.

“ah long time no see! come in!” your mom cheerfully greets when you see the Oikawa family entering the house, bowing down in respect with a sickly sweet smile plastered on your face. he acts like a prince charming when he bows, trying to charm your mother. she acts as if she’s swooned by his alluring smile before she rushes the family to enter the extravagant room, eyeing oikawa while he fixes the buttons of his school blazer. you and oikawa had a while you’re flipping the pendant of your necklace, the loud banter on the stairs a few meters away gets your attention.

“oh! kuroo looks dashing as usual!” she clasps her hands together, the gold rings on her fingers clashing and creating light noises which only you could hear. after they pick up on your mother’s voice, kuroo abruptly stops arguing and casually puts his right hand in his pocket. his mother gives you a soft wave and pecks your mother on the cheeks. you’re not in europe. the thought comes to mind while they chit chat. his father comes to the dining table, leaving you with kuroo for a few minutes. you extend your other leg in the front, putting your hands on your waist, and when you catch his monotone gaze. kuroo looks to the side while the tip of his ears slowly become red.

“ah! i’m glad our parents are okay.” you whisper in front of him while you pat your cheeks and put on your serious expression because your mother always tells you to act elegant when there are guests. a sympathetic smile appears on his lips, knowing why you changed your face in seconds—because you have a reputation to hold.

“mhm, okay talk to you later.” he says before lightly bumping your shoulder with his fist which you return with the same force while a smile dances on your balmed lips. the both of you don’t notice his mom’s gaze softening because of your brief chat.

“yuuji! you should’ve brought your vest!” your mom giggles when she hears the voice of the Terushima family. her covers her mouth with her hand (also her way of showing off her accessories). his mom’s voice is pretty loud so you hear her clearly when they’re on the stairs. a childish whine leaves his lips while his almond eyes begin twinkling in excitement seeing the grand decoration on the entrance. “oh hi y/n! pardon me, and yuuji.” his mom is always enthusiastic and humble.

you raise a brow when you notice the piercing on terushima’s ears. “you pierced?” you point a finger at his ear before the smirk on his face grows, knowing that you’re not allowed to get pierced or tattooed under your parent’s household.

“yeah, you want one?” he leans in with a teasing smirk on his face and slowly licks his bottom lip, and you get a glimpse of his tongue piercing. a tsk leaves your lips before you push him away with your clenched hands. your mom intrudes in your conversation and pulls you to her chest. your mom’s thoughts about you not listening to her and actually getting piercings are running like a hamster on a wheel. his mom covers her face with the palm of her hand, thinking that she won’t get used to terushima bragging about his piercings and possibly influencing his friends to get one. your mom giggles about him and repeatedly pats his back, escorting the Terushimas to their seats at the table—a long and wide one she bought for this day, and a few hours later, the cleaners will struggle to put the furniture back on the basement.

“ah n/n! wait for tsukishima, alright?”

your mom waves her fingers with a smile plastered on her face, leaving the entrance in your hands. going rebel sounds intriguing but you decided to go against it. you intertwine your fingers together and put them behind your back, walking around back and forth along with an occasional twirl because the black skirt whirling is satisfying for your eyes. annoyance bubbles in your chest when she mentions his name, and the fact you’ll escort them all the way to their seats at the table. relief courses through you when she picks their seats further away from your vision.

good, i can’t stand his golden eyes at—

“dear y/n, always elegant like her mother!” your dad mentions while the food is being served. the maids delicately hold the plates even though the appetizer only consists of green leaves, a drizzle of oil and other vegetables mixed in. a confident smile comes to your face while the boys giggle along with their parents, knowing that they nudge their waist to go with the flow and attempt to be your parents’ right hand and be their disciple. kuroo kicks your feet under the table while a subtle smirk on his face, and before you could misunderstand his intentions, he eyes the other parents then quickly rolls his eyes after. the clanking of the plates and forks begin to ring your ears and you immediately connect the clues on what he likes to say.

look at them, trying to get on your parents’ side.

you lightly slap his knee with your foot to get his attention, and you successfully do so while not realizing that about to take a bite of the vegetables. while kuroo thinks about embarrassing himself, again, despite that your parents and the other boys are lost in their own conversations, you take a big bite of everything that’s on the plate, not noticing your mom’s stern gaze on your figure. when he’s finished fixing his hair, he raises his brow while you cross your arms over your chest, nodding in defeat while rubbing your forehead, mimicking those disappointed adults you’ve seen in dramas. he covers his mouth while his eyes crinkle, controlling the laugh he desperately wants to let out. you massage your shoulder for a moment because it’s getting uncomfortable but you have to keep your act—act like you have your shit together in front of the guests.

“oh! oikawa-kun, how’s the japanese lit for you?” initiating a conversation between your rivals while the parents reacted quietly to themselves, as if they’re going to witness harsh exchange with words until emotions overtake your head. this is the sky castle, you think while straightening your posture, satisfied when you get a glimpse of him jolting on his seat before putting on his charming facade and entertaining your question.

“easy peasy! bet i’ll get a perfect score.” he runs his hand through his hair, fixing his school blazer and acts mighty with the other people around.

terushima begins to tease him by making faces to push oikawa’s buttons, and you tap your mouth with the tissue before dropping the bomb and witness his face morph to dread. “you know that i check the papers too, right? you’ve got three mistakes already.” bring down people so you can walk forward, you think while oikawa’s eyes are large like the globes you use for geography class. you loosely intertwine your fingers as you press your cheek on your palm. your mom peeks at you, amused, at your actions that she fights the urge because a smile is threatening its way on her deadpanned face since the beginning of the dinner. the other parents whisper to themselves, especially Oikawa’s parents who look at you with distaste occasionally when they talk. the maids are astonished with your attitude since you're a sweetheart, in the time where your mom is out and does her daily shopping to further decorate the house.

as the dinner continues, you're mentally patting yourself on the back for doing a great job to keep your castle undisturbed. you didn't notice the blonde fighting the urge to smirk to himself because it's the first time he witnessed you being brazen. he takes a big sip of the water, stretching his hands and resting it on his back as he catches your eyes which widens his smirk. resulting to strengthen your rage—and the fact that you're enjoying how attractive he looks.

ugh, let's get this over with.

“what? never expected me to be on top?” a condescending tone laces your voice as you cross your legs, the exhaustion you carried throughout the dinner is dissipating when you rest your back on the chair. feeling a certain pair of golden eyes piercing your soul, you intentionally ignore the sweating of your palms and curl your toes inside your shoes because you keep moving as long as you feel his eyes focused on you. the sassy persona you’ve worked hard lasting long is crumbling, as if tsukishima is taking his time to disassemble the pieces.

“finally we’re away.” terushima whispers to no one before running his fingers on his hair. all of your parents settled on the tea room as your mom calls it to chit chat and relax for a few hours and you know she'll subtly brag about your achievements in school and the furniture around the house that are only available to the rich she quotes.

"away from our parents who force their dreams to us? hell yeah." oikawa added before stretching his neck, the table erupting into laughter because what he said is the truth.

"hey! too mean." narrowing your eyes at him and seconds later you realized how contradicting you are. you scold the brown haired for being mean (when he only said the truth) yet you call oikawa earlier on the dinner for having three mistakes on the test of film studies. the silence stopped you from saying something further so you sit back, looking at the lights and decorations hanging on the wall so you won't embarrass yourself further.

we're even i guess, oikawa whispers under his breath before looking at you, his smile not reaching his eyes. you slap your cheeks while you're looking hard at oikawa, not noticing how the blonde plays with his fingers before looking at you, his eyes glimmering of mischief. since tsukishima knows what pushes your buttons and he always uses it to his advantage.

"stop the good girl act. you feel that way too, idiot." he cleans his glasses with his vest while his eyes narrow and look at you. as you look up and stare at him, you’re perplexed seeing him without his glasses and get amazed on how golden his eyes are. while your arms are flat on the table, his words earlier came back crashing on your head. good girl.

“good girl act, huh? why? you want me to be a bad.. bad girl tsukishima-kun?” you retort back quickly, and you’re pleased with your counterattack since hearing low whistles and gasps beside you fueled your ego. you raise your brow with a mocking smile on your lips to taunt tsukishima even more, intentionally ignoring the repetitive beating of your heart. you felt kuroo kicking your ankle under the table but you dodge his kick since you didn’t want to be bombarded by his remarks because you know he’ll never let you forget about this moment.

“and what if i do, princess?” he raises his brow in return, resting his chin on his palm while cocking his head to the side, amused with your response but he wouldn’t let you know that. you’re obviously dumbfounded, hating the way he uses that nickname casually in a conversation. the uneasiness you’re feeling doesn't go away when you feel eyes on you, eagerly waiting on what you’ll have to say. you clear your throat and you’re about to say something when-

“okay! y/n you got ice cream?” terushima jumped in the conversation before the tension rose on the table. at first you’re bummed when he cuts you off suddenly but you’re glad because you’re not going to talk to tsukishima after this. nope, you keep repeating to yourself. you nodded and led the way to the kitchen, slapping your cheeks lightly with your fingers to snap out of it.

“y/n, suck it up and do the first move.” kuroo murmurs louder to mortify you before taking a bite of the ice cream from the glass, his smug expression makes you want to punch him right there. you playfully kick his chair while you mindlessly mix the spoon on the glass, the ice cream melting as time ticks by.

“what- i’m not- you jerk!" their eyes fall on you since your voice tends to get loud when you defend yourself, and you forget about that while kuroo annoys you on purpose. you grumble shut up under your breath, cupping your cheeks while a frown takes over your face. you angrily grab the scooper to get more desert, also denying the thoughts running in your mind and shake your head in the process while whispering no, that can't happen!

"you're screwed, my friend." kuroo waves his spoon in front of you and you grit your teeth in annoyance while a frown takes over your face. a part of you wants to give in and admit you’re feeling something for him but you’ll stick on what you’re good at-denying. you pout in defeat and sulk in your seat, your eyes falling on tsukishima sitting in the corner. he’s in his own world, taking a bite of the ice cream and repeatedly tapping his foot on the floor. you assume it’s because of the music he’s listening to because of his tangled earphones put on. when he caught your gaze you turned away a little late meaning he saw you. shame clouded your head and desperately try to distract yourself from him, and look at oikawa acting high and mighty, anything, so you won’t spiral back to your thoughts full of tsukishima.

“the hell!? no i’m fin-” he waves his hands and doesn't listen to your stalling, since he knows you’re doing that to convince yourself and not him. you scowl at him and cross your arms together, chanting to pull it together since you get aggressive when someone’s caught you so you cross your arms together and clench your fists. (you thought you’ll have wrinkles earlier than others because of how much you’re frowning).

“i saw what happened, don’t even.” he cocks his head to tsukishima’s direction with a grin on his face and he knew he conquered victory between the banter. you sent him a sarcastic smile before checking the others chat to themselves and hear the faint laughter of the adults in the other room. your mind starts to imagine what it's’ like to talk to your crush.

no didn’t say that!

“this is fun.” he added, which deepened your scowl and you clearly heard the teasing tone laced on his voice. you roll your eyes playfully while he ruffles your hair, and you’re bummed because you know he is right. don’t pull the bad girl card, he murmurs and twirls the ends of your hair. your thoughts halted when you heard the two words that brought you back to the situation earlier. you hold your breath while stretching your arms straight on the counter, hurriedly thinking of a witty response.

“hey! he looked good…” you closed your eyes quickly then you got a glimpse of tsukishima smirking and the way the nickname, princess, rolled off his tongue is making the tip of your ears faint red and sensitive. where’s the y/n that hates tsukki with all her guts? kuroo whispers and laughs hysterically after which caught the attention of the others. you know he’s teasing you for fun since you two often have light hearted banters. the urge to punch him in the face crosses your mind because there are times he knows and you know he’s right, it’s on you not wanting to admit it. his hand ruffles your hair once again before smoothly interrupting oikawa’s bragging, while your thoughts go on an overdrive in your head.

"miss pres! wait for me!" you stopped in your tracks and waited on the right side when you heard akari jogging to you. a dejected pout appears on her lips. she hangs onto your arm and grips it tight, catching her breath because you didn't wait for her outside after the film classes ended.

purposely digging her nails as her payback, because you didn't wait for her outside after the film class ended.

"damn, it's hard being the best friend of the student council president." she says with a defeated tone while fixing her skirt. your face scrunched up in response before walking together on the hallways. akari begins her rambling about the upcoming output your professor mentioned. you tightened your hold on the folders, frightened that the stack of folders will slip out of your hold since fate can be cruel, you muse while pushing the folders close to your chest.

"i can carry folders too, you know." her laughter echoed in the hallway when she saw your reaction! furrowed brows, a pout on your lips before you hesitantly gave half of the folders in her waiting hands. before you could explain what the folders are, you hear her gasp when she sees the title, in bold letters—CLASS 3 FILM STUDIES TEST RESULTS. she overheard you and the professor and learned that you're also checking the papers because professors trust you that much. akari likes seeing you lose your cool in public so she lifts the side of the folder. though it gets exhausting, you endure akari and her antics since despite her teasing she knows her boundaries. she's a good friend because holding the titles student council president, and top student scares away potential friends you could have. students gossiping about your family and status doesn't make things easier. so when she approached you in the library and blunty said you're taking her seat, you're grateful despite interrupting your study session.

it's safe to say that you didn't give each other good first impressions.

"miss pres, faculty room right?" akari's voice breaks your train of thought and wonders how you didn't hit anyone along the way since you take a few turns before seeing the faculty room.

"mhm."

“kari! let’s go back! i can convince sensei.” you whine quietly and stomp on your feet, you’re definitely ignoring your heart about to jump out of your chest when you see a glimpse of a blonde in front of the faculty room. after the party you held a few days ago, you didn’t pay attention to him and avoided him at all costs because you’re trying to figure out if feeling something to your rival is a big deal or not. you tighten your hold on the papers, a pout coming to your lips while akari is amused on what’s happening right now. she’s clearly not expecting you to go to the other way and avoid confrontation with the blonde.

“he’s there! i can’t face him!” you added and jutted your lips into a pout. in your head, you could roast him with other people because you have a perfect reputation to keep. she sighs for a moment while you stand there, she transfers all the folders in her other hand before smacking you in your arm. a shriek leaves your lips, not expecting your friend to hit you in the hallway. you knew you lose the disagreement when you see her as if she’s saying really? i’m done with you through her face. she puts a hand on her waist while she steps on the floor. a habit of hers that you noticed through time. you fix your hair that’s blocking your sight before nodding your head.

“fine… whatever.” you narrow your eyes and point a finger on her direction, acting like you’re threatening her but it didn’t have an effect at her. both of you silently walk towards the faculty room and finally see tsukishima in all his glory. he’s slightly slouching in front of the door because of his height. you quickly look at the other classrooms, acting as if you never saw him and ignore your heart beating at a quick pace. you’re in front of the room, just behind him and realize how tall he is. he looks back and catches your gaze before he smirks and waves at the professor inside. (they are clearly victims of the good boy facade he puts, you think). akari whistles to herself before going inside and gives the folders to your professor while you follow behind.

“ah thank you y/n! and akari. you can have your lunch now.” you bow quickly and smile before you shut the door gently. you fix your blazer and pat your skirt before going to the cafeteria with akari. on the way she keeps teasing you about how you daydream of tsukishima when you’re in class. she keeps mentioning his smirk when you’re eating and you almost choked on the food, since yes, maybe his smirk is attractive you think, maybe, you repeated.

“how’s life with rich people?” she whispers since she accompanied you to the library because you’re planning your scenes already and what emotions you’ll pick for the montage output. you stopped writing and closed your notebook, and rolled your eyes playfully because you know what she really wants to ask.

“i know you’re asking about oikawa, so go.” you say while crossing your arms on the wooden table, and stretch your back after writing for twenty minutes. on the time you’re working, she’s humming random songs and twirls her pen on the papers she brought, scribbling lines and occasionally add doodles on the paper.

“tsk, at least i’m proud of it.” she comments while you gasp, wondering why kuroo and her keeps forcing you to admit you like him. it wasn’t that you’re uncomfortable, your answer remains the same, you have a reputation to take care of.

“anyway! i heard you were mean to him.” she adds while burying her head in her open book, it’s obvious that she’s bored but she accompanied you nonetheless. you stopped twirling your hair and you processed what she said. how did she know, you lamented to yourself while your brows furrow.

“terushima… he doesn’t shut up. he might’ve mentioned that.” akari massages her scalp while looking at you, she’s attempting to relieve the minimal pain she’s feeling in her head. you continued to write on how the scene will go but your sentences ended in scribbles. you’re terribly annoyed that terushima talked about the party even, it wasn’t necessary, you thought while biting your lip.

“agh! whatever. it’s the truth.” you cried out after contemplating for a few minutes. you lean back on the chair, drinking from your water bottle to hydrate yourself once in a while. you sigh in satisfaction when the cold water goes to your chest, awakening your sleepy eyes. the silence helps you gain your focus and plan your outfit and makeup on the montage, but akari breaks the silence with a question.

“yeah sure.. the truth. so when are you gonna admit that you actually like tsukishima, huh?” akari prompts her elbow while a cocky smile goes to her face. you hum and stopped writing, utterly confused with her expression.

“well i like him but- what?! you and kuroo should be locked away somewhere.” you rambled after realizing her true intentions of why she asked that question. you kicked her foot slightly under the table to get back at her. she hisses slightly while you bow quickly to apologize. you sigh before grabbing your phone and usher akari to take a selfie in the library, even though her face looks funny on the picture, you’ll still keep it. while she looks through the photos you took, you look at the window and many thoughts keep overlapping but one thought stands out. should i finally admit that i have a crush on him? what if he doesn’t like me though? those are the thoughts you pondered on on the way home and the next few months.

it’s been five months since those thoughts spiralled on your head, almost haunting you every night. this day marks the start of vacation, no more school work to do and you’re not pretending to be a good student on campus all year. it's been a few months since you passed the montage output and you remembered how your professor’s mouth is open while watching yours, it boosted your confidence. you picked unrequited and longing which seems two complicated emotions to work on a montage but that’s what you like about it. when you did your shoot months ago, you couldn’t forget the horror on kuroo’s face when he saw the smudged make-up on your face while your dress looked elegant.

you waved him off that time and continued to film the flowers dancing to the wind, the group of birds flying high, and you accidentally filmed tsukishima walking away while the sun hit his direction and it created a warm yet nostalgic vibe. that time he didn’t give you insults or anything but god, he was cocky. kuroo and oikawa noticed how things changed on the two of you, because normally they’d be seeing you going at each other’s throats. but you did your own thing, and you didn’t complain about filming him and instead he saw you giggling to yourself while looking at the camera. the black haired finally connected the puzzles together and came to a conclusion: you’ve come to terms that you like tsukishima.

“i really like him! believe me.” you defended and hugged the pillow laying on the couch. you invited tsukishima to your house to convince your parents that you like each other even though you’ve been together for a few months already. when you often walk with your boyfriend (calling him that still makes you blush), you always see oikawa and kuroo snickering to themselves, and you teased kuroo that he replaced you with another. sadly, your mom didn’t like the idea and she went to another country to calm down, you think. that time you realized where you got your sulky attitude from. your dad acts casual and asks questions one at a time. you’re grateful because you couldn’t handle many questions at once and the accusations you’ll hear from your mom isn’t what you wanted right now. your dad giggles when you act pouty and defensive, while tsukishima bounces his leg to relieve the slight to little nervousness he has, he convinces himself. it didn’t help when kuroo grip his shoulder tight and give a little speech on how to protect you and show how to care.

“she does… unfortunately.” he whispers the last word which infuriates you and hits his head with the pillow lightly. your dad didn’t hear what he said so he glares at you, shaking his head, as if he’s saying not to hit your boyfriend. you pout and cross your arms, and give him the face that’s supposed to threaten people but it doesn’t work for him. (one time, you realized you’re friends with people who have resting bitch faces).

“do you want me to be your enemy again?” you threaten him but you fail because a big smile goes to your face. you fix the hair clip on the back of your head to keep your hair away.

“sure if it means i can see you be angry but look cute.” he retorts back and while you're about to explode, from your peripheral vision you see your dad giving him a big thumbs up and an awkward wink. he sends him a nod and acts cool.

"hmm, now i get why you like each other y/n." your dad comments he pats the space beside him. tsukishima gently rubs your lower back before letting you go, even though his heart is beating wild in his chest. you sit beside your dad before tightly embrace him, relieved of his reaction to your new relationship.

"thank you dad. we'll protect each other, don't worry. you can kick him if he broke up with me though." you whisper the last part so the blonde wouldn't hear you (he's suspicious based on the narrowing of his eyes and the gaze you feel at the back of your head). he pats your back while giggling lightly and stand up. he enjoys seeing you lost in your world and see the genuine happiness glowing in your eyes. this is something he should've done sooner, he thought because all these years you're caged in this house, alone and lonely.

“tsu-ki-shima-kun, let’s go?” you tease him because he once told you that calling him like that stirs something inside him. you giggle and look to him softly, an indirect way of asking permission to loop your arms together. you respect his boundaries, always, even though it didn't seem like it a few months ago. he nods and pushes his glasses, and you loop them while seeing his ears down to his neck go a little red.

“hey, let’s go to the library. it’s quiet there.”

you get out of the house and wave to the idiots (kuroo and oikawa) as you call them before going to the library with him. you had nothing to study for and you knew why he wants to go there, with you, you just know.

this is the sky castle, the place where you bring down people to walk forward. but after thinking about it, walking together with tsukishima doesn't sound bad.

143 notes · View notes

kpopaddicted06 · 3 years

Text

The Neighbour – one shot

Summary: I didn’t knew moving would bring so many changes in my life.

pairing: ATEEZ Wooyoung x reader

genre: highschool au

type: fluff, angst

words: 8k

warnings: mention of - panic attack, anxiety, drugs, gang, violence; school bullying (kind of)

A/N: I hope you’ll like the story; have a wonderful day & thanks for reading it

I just moved in Seoul with my family yesterday. We came to this city because of my dad’s job promotion. He’s now a manager at a financial company here, my mother is working as a chef at a restaurant here too.

It’s saturday, my father is currently at work to meet with his boss and discuss some things before he’ll start working on monday. Me and my mom are at home unboxing our stuff when we hear the doorbell.

"Baby, can you open the door?" My mom yells from the second floor.

"Sure!"

When I open the door I’m greeted by a woman about my mom’s age. Her hair is black and she’s giving me a beautiful smile.

"Hello, sweetheart!"

"Hello. Can I help you?"

"I'm your neighbour, Mrs Jung. I just came to welcome you into our neighbourhood and invite your family over tomorrow for dinner, so we can get to know each other." Just when she’s done talking, my mom arrives behind me and answers her.

"Oh, hello! My name is Mirae and this is my daughter Y/N. We would love to come over for dinner, thank you for the invitation!" My mom smiles sweet at the lady in front of us.

"Great, I’ll be waiting for you around 7PM." Mrs. Jung responses delighted.

"Alright, see you tomorrow!"

We bid our goodbyes and I close the door.

"She seems really nice. We’re already making friends here Y/N." My mom is more than happy to make new friends already, since she’s a social butterfly, totally the opposite of me. I'm a shy introvert that becomes anxious around strangers or big crowds.

It's already sunday afternoon so we’re getting ready for the dinner with our neighbours.

I choose to wear a black blouse and a grey skirt with black boots. I let my hair down and put some light makeup on. After I take a final look at myself in the mirror to make sure I look good, I head down where my parents are already waiting for me.

When we arrive at our neighbours’s house, Mrs. Jung opens the door for us with a smile on her face just like the first time I’ve met her.

"Welcome! Please enter."

"Good evening, Mrs Jung." I say smiling back at her.

"Hi. Thanks again for inviting us. This is my husband, Hyungsik."

"Hello, it’s nice meeting you." My father says after my mother introduces him.

"Hello, I'm glad you could make it. My husband and sons are in the living room, that's straight ahead. I have to go back into the kitchen now or I’ll burn the dinner." She laughs a little then leaves through a door on the right.

In the living room the rest of the Jung family are sitting on a couch. Mr. Jung sees us first and comes to introduce himself, followed by two boys. He then presents us his sons and the older one, Wooyoung, scans me head to toe, then makes eye contact with me with an expressionless face and I can feel how my cheeks are getting warm from the blush, because I don’t like it when someone gives me attention. After a moment he averts his gaze from me.

He’s wearing a red hoodie with black sport pants, his hair is black and a little long, he also got a lot of piercings and rings. He looks really handsome and seems to be around my age.

We all wait in the living room for Mrs. Jung to finish the dinner, while my parents are discussing about their jobs with Mr. Jung. Wooyoung is on his phone sending messages to someone and from time to time I can see a little smile on his face. His younger brother is watching a show on TV and I'm thinking about how would be at my new school tomorrow. I hope someone will approach me first and I’ll make a new friend, because I’m very shy around people, especially strangers.

"Dinner’s ready! Please come and take a seat at the table." Mrs. Jung announces us happy.

At the table my mom sits to my left and Wooyoung is at my right.

Mrs. Jung prepared a feast for this dinner. The food looks and smells so good so we start to eat right away.

The dinner goes without any big events taking place, except Wooyoung's little brother making a fuss that he wants to eat while playing games on his phone, but his mother scolded him saying it’s not nice to play while eating, especially when guests are over.

After having the dessert, we head back in the living room to continue the chat.

"So, Wooyoung, how old are you?" My mom asks him.

Everyone turns their attention to Wooyoung, who didn't pay any attention to us the whole night and continued sending messages on his phone. He locks his phone and looks at my mother now.

"I'm 17 years old."

"Oh, you’re one year older than Y/N then. That's great, I hope you can become good friends then. You see, she's very shy and it’s hard for her to make friends." Wooyoung looks at me for a second and sees that I’m embarrassed because of what my mother said.

"What school do you go to, Y/N?" Mrs. Jung asks me.

"I go to The High-School of Arts."

"That's where Wooyoung goes too. Then you can go together tomorrow morning and he can show you around and help you." His mother's suggestion makes Wooyoung click his tongue in annoyance but doesn't say anything.

"That’s not necessary, but thank you. I can manage by myself, plus he may be busy and I don't want to bother him with this." I say hoping she will drop the subject.

"That's nonsense. He isn't busy and has enough time. Right, Wooyoung?"

"I will give you a ride tomorrow and help you out." He says without looking at me.

"See, I told you he'll help you."

"Thank you..." I say shyly in his direction but he doesn't acknowledge me.

After a little while, I announce that I’ll head back home to prepare my stuff for tomorrow.

"I will head home first to get ready for my first day at school tomorrow. Thank you for inviting us over for dinner, I had a great time."

"You want to leave already? Wait until I take my purse, I think I left it in the kitchen earlier."

"No, mom, you don't need to come. I will go back first, you can enjoy the rest of the night."

"Then let Wooyoung accompany you back." His dad suggests.

"It’s not necessary..."

While I was speaking Wooyoung got up from the couch.

"Let's go." He says and starts leaving already.

I quickly go after him while saying a "Good night." to his family at the same time.

He opens the door for me and I thank him.

The walk is only a few minutes but it’s awkward as neither of us talks.

He opens his mouth to say something only when we are in front of my house’s door.

"We’re leaving at 7:20 AM, so be ready by then."

"Ok. Thanks for coming with me and driving me tomorrow too, but you don't have to help me at school, I’ll manage by myself." I say smiling a bit while he has his cold gaze on me. He doesn't say anything, just turns around and leaves.

The next morning I wake up at 6:00 AM to make sure I have enough time to get ready so I won’t make Wooyoung wait after me.

I take a shower and then get dressed in my new uniform for school. The uniform consists of a white blouse, a grey skirt and a black jacket. I pun on some black shoes to go along with it and apply a natural makeup. I tie my hair in a ponytail and finish my look with a pair of earrings and a necklace to complete my look. I take a look at the clock too see it’s 7:15 AM.

When I get out of the house, Wooyoung is already waiting for me. He’s leaning against his black car looking down at his phone screen. He doesn't seem to notice my presence yet so I take a better look at him. He’s wearing his uniform, a white shirt with a black tie, black pants and a black jacket. His hair is parted in the middle, it’s a wet hair style that really suits him. He’s also wearing a lot of earrings and rings just like last night. When I move my attention to his face I observe he’s looking at me with a smirk on and a raised eyebrow. He caught me staring at him.

"Let's go if you’re done checking me out."

I widen my eyes at his words and I can feel the blood rushing to my face already, making me blush. I only nod in response.

He goes to passager’s side and opens the door for me. I get in saying a "thanks" and avoiding his gaze, still embarrassed.

When he gets in the car too, we put on our seat belts and he starts driving. Soft music is playing through the radio.

"We have to take three of my friends with us. They can be very loud so I'm sorry if they make you feel uncomfortable."

"It's ok." I say even if I'm already feeling a little anxious to meet new people.

We stop the car in front of a big house and I see three boys coming out. They are laughing loud enough to hear it from the car. When they spot me inside the car, a confused expression takes place on their faces. They get in the back seat and look at me then at Wooyoung, waiting probably for him to introduce me.

"She's my new neighbour, she’s going to our school too. Her name is Y/N. My mother asked me to drive her."

They all look at me smiling and say "Hi!" in unison.

"My name is San, pretty." The guy in the middle with black hair says and gives me a wink that makes me blush. He smiles at my blushing face and I can see a cute pair of dimples showing.

"Please ignore him, Y/N. That's how he is with everyone." The boy on San’s left says with an eye roll and San pouts at his statement. "My name is Yeosang." His hair is blonde and he has a mullet.

"My name is Jongho." The last one says with a polite smile.

"It’s nice too meet you all."

After that Wooyoung starts driving again so we won't be late. After a minute or so, San starts speaking again.

"Y/N are you in our class?"

"No, I'm a year younger than you guys."

"She's in Jongho’s class." Wooyoung says without moving his eyes from the road.

"Oh, I can help you with our classes then, and I will give you my notes so you know where we are currently with our lectures and catch up." Jongho tells me excited, probably because he found out we are the same age.

"That would be great, thank you so much." I smile back at him. I thought I will fell anxious with so many strangers but they are really friendly so I feel kinda comfortable with them.

Jongho is telling me about how are the teachers for the rest of the ride and some other school related things.

When we arrive at school, Wooyoung parks his car next to another black one, where four boys are standing beside it. When we get out, they came to greet the boys from our car. When they land their eyes on me, San starts talking first.

"She's Wooyoung’s new neighbour, Y/N. She's in the same class as Jongho."

"Hello. My name is Seonghwa." He's taller than the others boys I was in the car with, his hair is blonde and he has a kind smile. "I'm two years older than you, so is Hongjoong." He gestures to his right to a guy with blue hair. He has even more piercings than Wooyoung and is wearing a lot of other accessories.

"Nice meeting you." He says with a polite smile like Jongho did.

"I'm Yunho, it’s nice to meet you." He looks like a cute puppy with bright eyes. His hair is blonde with some pink strands too. He's the tallest among all of them.

"I'm Mingi." A boy with almost the same height as Yunho says. His hair is a light shade of brown and he’s wearing a pair of sunglasses. He has a cute smile.

"Yunho and Mingi are the same age as me." San adds.

"It’s nice meeting you all!" I say with a big smile. They all seem like nice people and unexpectedly I don’t feel anxious around them, considering we just met.

I didn't expect that I will meet so many people on my first day. Wooyoung seems to be a social butterfly, and all his friends are really good looking, just like him.

"Let's go to our classes or we’ll be late, and I'm sure Y/N doesn't want that on her first day." Hongjoong says gesturing for Jongho to lead the way for me.

We all part ways and leave to our classes.

"I will come with you guys." Wooyoung says taking the lead.

Me and Jongho follow him and after we’re in front of our class Jongho goes straight inside. When I try to enter too, Wooyoung stops me by grabbing my wrist.

"I will give you a ride back too after we finish classes. Just wait for me beside my car." He then leaves, not waiting for my response. I look after him a little then go inside the class where I take a seat next to Jongho.

All the classes are a bit boring, but Jongho is making small comments during them, funny ones, and also helps me catch up so I feel a little better about them.

It’s lunch time. Jongho and I are seated at a table in the middle. He said it’s their group’s table. When I sit down I see the people in the cafeteria looking with confusion in my direction.

"Jongho?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are they all looking at me?"

Jongho opens his mouth to answer but a voice behind me beats him first.

"Maybe because it’s the first time when another person besides us eight sits at our table." San says smiling at me and taking the free seat on my left.

"Oh... and why is that?"

"Well you see, we don't really have other friends beside each other." He chuckles a little and scratches the back of his neck.

"Why?" His answers only leaves me more confused. Yeosang replies to my question as he sees San is not helpful.

"Because they all think we are some kind of gang or something like that. But that’s not true. They’re all just rumors."

"Ok, but you had to do something for that rumor to go around." I say a little surprised to hear that, because they seem like good guys. I see them exchanging a strange look between themselves before Seonghwa answers me.

"Well, we actually got in some trouble one night at a club, it ended up with us fighting some other guys. We got in some trouble at school too, because we used to skip a lot of classes last year and had some little fights too. We were friends with some kids that graduated last year, and because of them we ended up doing all that. They kind of had a bad influence on us but now we are trying to study hard, avoid problems and we have a full attendance too. Unfortunately the rumors don't die that easily."

"Oh... Well you are doing great then, because I would have never thought you did all that if you wouldn't have confessed." I say a little lost in thoughts, trying to process all of this.

"Are you going to leave us too after what you heard?" San asks searching for an answer on my face.

"Why would I? You clearly changed and I'm sure you weren't that bad last year as you make it sound." I say with a little shy smile as all of them are looking at me. My guts tell me they’re good guys, even if I only met them today, because they didn't make me feel anxious being around them. I find it easy to talk with them, which is unusual for me to do with new people.

"If you still want to be friends with us don't expect other people to talk to you." Yeosang tells me.

"I'm good with being friends only with you guys. I never had a lot of friends anyway, so I won't lose anything." I say sincerely.

"By the way, where are Wooyoung and Mingi?” I see all of them tense a little at my question.

"They had something to do. Let's finish our lunch." Hongjoong says with a dark face, so I don't continue the subject anymore as I don't want to get in their business.

It’s already the time to go home and Seonghwa, Yunho, San, Yeosang and Jongho left with Seonghwa’s car. Hongjoong left one hour earlier. The boys told me he had some problems to solve. I'm beside Wooyoung’s car, waiting for him as he told me to do this morning.

As I wait for him to come I start thinking about how today was a pretty good first day. Thanks to Wooyoung I made a lot of friends. I never had such a large group of friends.

After a little while I hear Wooyoung and Mingi talking so I look in their direction. Mingi waves at me as a goodbye and leaves.

"Did you wait much?" Wooyoung ask as he unlocks his car and opens the door for me.

"Just a few minutes."

He nods his head and gets in the car too. The drive is quiet but I don't feel awkward in Wooyoung’s presence this time. When we are at a stop he turns to look at me.

"So, how was the first day?"

"Pretty good. The teachers were boring but I had fun thanks to your friends, so thank you for introducing us." I say shyly a little as he keeps his eyes on me.

"I'm glad you get along." He says and then turns his head and keeps driving.

The rest of the drive goes by in silence, none of us saying anything anymore.

"Thanks for driving me today, Wooyoung."

"I’ll see you tomorrow morning at 7:20 AM."

"You will drive me again? I don't want to be a burden."

"I will drive you everyday. It’s not a problem for me, plus we’re going to the same destination." He says without letting room for any arguments.

"Ok.. Thank you. Bye Wooyoung."

"Bye, Y/N."

The next two weeks Wooyoung drives me and his friends to school everyday. We got closer and it’s fun hanging out with them. I’m starting to like it a lot here.

This morning there’s only us on the way to school as he told me his friends are going with their own cars today and Jongho is going with San, because he doesn't have the age to drive yet.

Today the boys seem to be in a bad mood when I meet them at school and I don't know why. When I tried to ask Jongho, he said it’s nothing and to not worry about them.

I'm on my way to the classroom when I hear Wooyoung calling my name, so I stop and turn around to face him.

"I can't drive you back today. All of us will leave earlier since we have to go somewhere."

"Are you starting to skip your classes again like last year?" I ask in hope they don't pick up their bad habits from last year.

"No. We just have something to solve." He is a little frustrated by my question.

"What?"

"That's none of your business Y/N." He says narrowing his eyes at me and in a dark tone.

"O-oh... Sorry for asking." I turn around and leave fast. Now I can see why the others might be scared of them. Wooyoung looked pretty intimidating just now as he got mad. This is the first time I see him look so dark and I didn't like it.

I spend the rest of the day alone as they all left. When I hear the ring, I pack my things and get ready to go home.

Right before I try to leave, some girls gather at my desk and stop me from doing so.

"Do you need something?" I ask biting my lower lip as I'm becoming overwhelmed by their presence.

"How did you became friends with the boys?”

"I'm Wooyoung’s neighbour and he introduced us."

"So are you close with Wooyoung?"

I’m thinking what I should respond her when it hits me, she probably wants something from me.

"What do you want?"

"I want Wooyoung’s phone number." She says restively.

"Then ask him for it." I say quickly as I can feel by heart starting to beat faster than it should. I can feel my breath getting a little irregular too.

"He refused already, but I won't give up. So you have to give it to me." Her voice is irritated.

"I can't do that, if he didn't wanted to give it to you then he doesn't want to talk to you. Sorry but I need to leave now." I say and I start running past them to the bathroom. When I enter I take a deep breath and try to calm down. After that I leave to the bus station.

When I arrive home I feel a little tired so I take a nap before I start working on my homework.

The next day Wooyoung isn't waiting for me to go to school together. Maybe he’s mad at me..

When I arrive at school, Jongho is nowhere to be found, he didn’t attend any of the classes today.

I write a message in our group chat to see if something happened but nobody answers me... They still don't answer for the rest of the weekend and I start thinking if maybe something happened to them or I if I did something wrong so they’re ignoring me on purpose. They don't answer any of my calls either.

I ask my mother if she met Mrs. Jung and if she saw Wooyoung. She tells me that Wooyoung is staying at one of his friends for the weekend. Something is telling me that this might not be the whole truth. Something feels off and I have to find out what is it.

On monday, Wooyoung is waiting for me in the morning to give me the usual ride to school like he didn’t just ghosted me the whole weekend.

"What happened? None of you answered me and I was worried. Are you ok?" I ask concerned.

"We are fine. You didn't have to worry about us. We just had a full weekend, that's why we didn't answer. Now let's get going or we’ll be late."

"You could have at least tell me you’re alive..." I say pouting and looking at the ground.

I feel a hand ruffling my hair and I look up meeting Wooyoung eyes.

"I'm sorry. I will answer you next time. Don't be upset Y/N." He says smiling at me. It’s the first time I see such a big smile on him, and that made me smile too.

"I'm glad you’re smiling now. You’re more beautiful when you’re smiling rather than pouting." He says with a look that I don't really understand what it is.

I try to avoid his eyes and pass through him to enter the car trying to hide my blushing face and I think I hear him saying "It makes me want to make you happy." My heart skips a beat at that.

For the entire car ride to school none of us speaks. Unfortunately we were alone today as San drived Yeosang and Jongho.

At school all of them come and apologise for making me worry about them and we get back to our normal routine.

I go to my third class without Jongho, because it’s an optional class I choosed. After that is over, I go to meet with the boys for lunch. On the hallway I hear a voice calling my name, and when I turn to see who’s calling me, I see the girl that wanted Wooyoung’s phone number coming my way.

"I don't like it when people run away in the middle of a conversation." She says annoyed.

"Sorry... I needed to be somewhere."

"I don't care." She rolls her eyes at me. "Now give me the number while I'm asking nice."

"I still can't do that..."

"Then arrange me a meeting with him."

"Why don't you go and talk with him yourself? He's in the cafeteria now."

"Good plan. I will tell him you invited me for lunch with them. That will be my chance to ask him out."

"That’s not what I meant. I was just saying you can go and say whatever you want directly to him, not me."

"I like my plan better. Now let's go."

She grabs my arm and drags me in the direction of the cafeteria. She doesn't let go of me until we are at the table where the boys were chatting. When they spot us both, they look at me, ignoring the girl beside me, the one I don't even now the name of..

"Boys this is..." I trail off looking at her to say her name.

"I'm Yuri, but I'm sure you already knew that." She says smiling at Wooyoung. They still look at me, not Yuri, so I speak again.

"She's here to eat with us..." I say a little uncomfortable and the boys notice that.

"We don't have enough space for another person. You can leave." Yeosang answers irritated by her presence.

"But you still have an empty space." She says sitting down, next to Wooyoung.

Wooyoung looks for the first time at Yuri and speaks.

"That's Y/N’s chair. Now get up." I could sense the anger in his voice.

"Why would I? She can find another place to sit. I want to stay beside you." She flutters her lashes at him trying to look innocent.

All the boys are now looking with disgust at her.

"Leave already. Don't you get it that we don't want you here?" Mingi snaps at her.

"Hey! Let's all calm down. I will just take another chair." I say fast before they get angry, because I don't want to see that. But before I can manage to take another chair Wooyoung gets up and takes Yuri by her arm to make her stand up from her seat.

"What are you doing? Let go of me!" She says a little scared of him and the dark look he’s giving her. He doesn't listen to her and makes her get up and pushes her a little to the side away from the table. Then he takes my hand gently and makes me sit down instead.

"Let's eat now." He says like nothing happened and all the boys start eating. Wooyoung puts his tray with food between us and motions with his head for me to eat. I can hear Yuri scoffing from behind.

"Why would you want her instead of me? I don't understand. She's ugly and doesn't even talk much. She's dumb and..." But she doesn't get to speak more because Wooyoung rushes up and heads towards her. Seonghwa and San get up quickly too and try to stop Wooyoung from doing anything reckless. I also get up surprised.

"Say something bad about Y/N ever again and I will make your life a living hell." Wooyoung growls at her. I never heard that tone from him. His voice made me shiver.

"I suggest you to leave before you regret messing with one of us." San speaks this time and if looks could kill, Yuri would be six feet under.

"But-" Yuri tries again but she's cut off by Seonghwa this time.

"Leave or I will take you out personally and you won't like that." He says in a cold tone and I can see the fear growing on Yuri’s face. She gulps and leaves in a hurry.

I look around us and all the students are staring at us. I feel my heart rate going up quickly so I run out of the cafeteria. I can hear the boys calling after me with concern in their voices.

I run on the hallway but I don't make it far as I lose my balance and almost fall, but a pair of arms wrap around my waist catching me before I hit the ground. When I look up I see Wooyoung’s concerned gaze on me.

"What happened? Are you alright?"

"I just need some air..." I say softly hiding my face in his chest as I don't want to see anyone right now.

He takes me out by the back door of the school. The rest of the boys come quickly too, having concerned looks on their faces. After a few minutes when I start to feel better, I decide to tell them what’s actually going on.

"I have anxiety... That's why I ran outside the cafeteria. It was too much for me..."

"You should have told us that earlier, Y/N." Seonghwa says.

"Yes, we would have tried to avoid that kind of situation if we knew." Wooyoung tells me a little disappointed.

"I'm sorry..." I murmur looking down.

"It's ok. We know now, so we will take care of you. You don't need to apologise for something like this, Y/N, you did nothing wrong." Hongjoong tells me softly.

"Thank you for helping me and for understanding." I say with a little smile on my face.

After our classes are done, I say my goodbyes to the boys and I head back home with Wooyoung.

The next few days the boys constantly made sure that I was feeling ok and took care of me. Wooyoung wouldn't leave me alone any second, so he would walk me to all of my classes, even though Jongho was already with me.

I’m really grateful for having such good friends. I’m truly happy for meeting them.

On friday night we all gather at Seonghwa’s place for a movie night, since his parents are leaving the town for the weekend.

I’m staying between Wooyoung and San on the couch, and we watch ‘Frozen 2’ at Mingi’s request. He said the first one was really good and needs to see the second part too, so we all agreed when he started whining.

I’m feeling a little tired, since last night I had trouble sleeping, so I start dozing off in the middle of the movie. My head falls on Wooyoung’s shoulder. He sees I’m asleep and tells the boys to keep quiet not to wake me up, then makes sure to cover me with a blanket and that I’m in a comfortable position.

I wake up feeling a little bit too warm, so I try to remove the blanket from me when I feel a hand is placed on my waist. I look behind me and I realise it’s Wooyoung’s hand. We are still on the couch at Seonghwa’s place. I try to remove his hand and get up without waking him too, but he only tightens his grip on me and comes closer. I could feel his soft breath on my neck as he nuzzled his nose in my hair.

I instantly start to blush and my heart starts beating like crazy.

I try to get up again but he wakes up this time, still not letting me go from his grip.

"What time is it?" He asks with his raspy morning voice, causing me to get shivers down my spine as he’s still breathing on my neck.

"I d-don't know..." I curse in my head at my stuttering. "We should get up, we’re still at Seonghwa’s place..."

"Five more minutes." He says getting even closer to me, not leaving any space between ourselves anymore.

I gulp and attempt to calm down my heart. I won't be surprised if he can feel it too considering how close we are to each other right now.

After a moment I hear a ‘click’ from a phone, announcing a picture being taken and I look up to see Seonghwa doing just that.

"Hey! Delete that!"

"Not a chance. You both look so adorable. I’ll send it in our group chat for the others to see it too."

"Noooo!! Seonghwa please!" I start whining at him.

"Too late, Y/N." He says laughing at my pouting face.

"You are mean." I say narrowing my eyes at him.

"Seonghwa don't upset her or I’ll kill you." Wooyoung says from behind me with a threatening voice.

"Easy tiger, I was just teasing her. I have to be careful around you now Y/N, or Wooyoung will attack me." Seonghwa smirks while saying this and then gives me a wink. Making me wonder what he means by that.

"Let's go Y/N. I will drive you home." Wooyoung gets up from the couch, helping me too.

It's been a week since the movie night, and since then Wooyoung began to act different around me. He was beside me all the time, excepting my classes and at home. Even then he would send me a lot of messages or call. He would always sit beside me and even suggested another family gathering for saturday. It was better than the first one we had when I just moved there.

It’s been already two months since I moved here, time flied fast. I’m feeling really good being here. Me and the boys became really close, and they didn't do anything strange anymore since that one time when they disappeared without any explanation for two days. They helped me be less shy than before. I also don't feel as anxious anymore since they’re always with me, making me feel relaxed and safe just with their presence.

It’s sunday morning, and Wooyoung just called me asking if I have any plans this afternoon. The answer was no, so he told me to be ready by three because now I have and he’ll come get me by then. He didn't say where we’ll be going but he mentioned that it’ll be just the two of us.

It's been a while already since I started to realise I might have feelings for Wooyoung, but I could never bring me to tell him that. We’re friends, so I tried to get over it to not ruin our friendship, but being around him all the time and getting all the attention he was giving me just made my feelings grow further.

It's already three. I'm wearing a cream blouse with a grey plaid skirt and I got some gray high boots to match. I‘m opting for a natural make up look, put on some accessories, I did my hair in waves and I got a matching purse to complete my look. I glance at myself in the mirror when I get a message from Wooyoung, announcing he's waiting for me outside.

When I leave the house, my eyes land on Wooyoung. My breath gets stuck in my throat, he’s breathtaking. His outfit is composed of a white shirt and white pants, that he paired with some sneakers. This is totally the opposite of his usual black outfits. He made his hair into a ponytail, wears a white bandana and got some accessories to finalise his look. This style suits him a lot. When I look at his face, his mouth is slightly open, but he closes it when he realises I catched him staring too.

"You look gorgeous." He said with a big smile that made my heart skip a beat.

"You look very handsome too." I say avoiding his gaze.

"Let's go. I want to show you a place." He says excited while opening the car door for me.

After an hour of driving, we finally reach our destination. We stop in front of a huge park. Inside it, cherry blossom trees are welcoming us on each side of the main path, and further into the park there’s a lake surrounded by benches. The wind makes it rain with cherry blossom flowers and the whole place starts to feel magical. I’m overflowing with joy seeing the beautiful scenery around us.

"Thank you for showing me this beautiful place." I tell Wooyoung and hug him out of excitement.

He wraps his hands around my waist too, hugging me back, then says: "Let's go seat on a bench. I have something to tell you." with a nervous tone.

After we take a seat on one of the benches, he turns his face and locks his beautiful eyes with mine, taking my hands into his. My heart pounds faster at the small gesture.

"Y/N, I don't know how to tell you this, or when the perfect moment to do it would come, but I think waiting for the perfect moment won't take me anywhere, so I decided to make one by inviting you here. I didn't really mention it, but this is actually a date."

"Really? A date?" I ask surprised by his words.

"Yes. Now the important thing I wanted to tell you." He takes a deep breath to calm his nervousness. "I like you, Y/N."

I look at him surprised, thinking I might have heard him wrong.

"Are you being serious right now?" I can see him getting sad after my question.

"Yes... Well, if you don't feel the same it’s fine, but I’d like us to continue being friends, if that’s not too uncomfortable for you and- " I cut him off.

"I like you too, but I couldn't believe what you just said, that's why I wanted to make sure I didn’t misunderstood you." I say with the biggest smile on my face.

He looks at my face like he’s trying to capture this moment in his memory.

Then he comes closer, coups my face with his hands and kisses me. I’m taken by surprise by his sudden move but I soon start kissing him back, and I could feel his lips turning into a smile against my mouth. His lips are soft and move gently against mine. I put my hands on his chest while we deepen the kiss. When we break apart, we rest our foreheads together.

Wooyoung takes my hand and intertwines our fingers, bringing me to stand up.

"Are you hungry?"

"A little."

"Ok. Let's go eat something."

Wooyoung took me at a restaurant where we eated some pasta and cheesecake for dessert.

"Wow, the food was amazing. Thanks for the dinner."

"I'm glad you liked it. This is my favourite restaurant, so we’ll probably come here often on our next dates."

"Next time I want to try their tiramisu."

"Already planning what to eat next, sweetheart?" Wooyoung says laughing a little at me and my love for food. I hear him saying an "adorable" under his breath and I blush.

He drives me home and walks me in front of my door.

"I had a great time. Thanks for today, Wooyoung."

"I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Goodnight, princess." He says then kisses my forehead and turns to leave.

"G-Goodnight..." His pet name made my heart flutter. I head inside fast to hide my pink turning face. If he keeps being like this my life span will get shorter.

The next morning Wooyoung greets me with a kiss on the cheek and a big smile.

After we arrive at school, all the boys are already there, waiting for us. When I get out of the car, San comes and hugs me.

"Congratulations!"

"For what?" I ask confused.

"For your new relationship, of course!" Yunho says on his way to hug me too.

"You already told them?" I turn and ask Wooyoung.

"We knew he likes you, and also his plan on inviting you out and confess. And we kinda guessed you might like him too after we saw how you act around him." Yeosang explains, giving us a teasing grin.

"We need to celebrate!" Shouts Mingi.

"After school. Congratulations, you both deserve to be happy." Seonghwa says while smiling with affection.

We all leave to our classes and after school we go to celebrate, as Mingi suggested.

We came to a pastry to have some cake, and of course a lot of teasing from the boys, to Wooyoung for being a coward with his confession and for me because I was being so obvious about liking him. Although I think I did a good job since Wooyoung didn't knew about it. Unfortunately I have to cut this happy moment, because I need to ask them something.

"Guys... Remember when you left without any signs of being alive that weekend?" I can see them sharing a look.

"Yes... Why?" Hongjoong responds.

"What did you do? Why did you avoid answering my question back then? I need to know the truth. I don't like to be lied. After so much time together you can trust me, I hope you know that..."

"It’s not about trust. We do trust you, Y/N." San says softly.

"Then?"

"It’s just... If we tell you, maybe you’ll look at us in a different way..." Wooyoung says a little sad.

"Whatever it is, I don't think that would change how I see you." I try to reassure them.

"You know that we said people think we are a gang?" Hongjoong asks me sighing.

"Yes, I remember."

"Well we kinda were one, because we used to ..” he takes another breath before finishing his sentence “..sell drugs… That’s what we did that weekend too. We went to sell the last drugs we had left, so we’d finally be done with this whole thing. We wanted to change, so we stopped after that day. It was the last time Y/N, we promise, and we didn't want you to find out because we are ashamed about it.." After Hongjoong is done talking, all of them let their heads down, being unable to look at me.

“Did you consume too?”

“No, we didn’t.” San answers firmly.

I get up from the chair, all eight heads now turning to look at me.

“I need some time to process all of this. I will leave first.”

Wooyoung gets up too and reaches for my wrist, grabbing it.

“Can I drive you?”

“I would like to be alone right now... And some fresh air will help me think better.” I say as I remove his hand and leave.

On my way home I’m lost in my thoughts, thinking about what they said again and again. I can’t believe they sold drugs... Even if they stopped, they still did something wrong... I just got together with Wooyoung and I find this about him.

The next two days I told Wooyoung I will take the bus to school, and I avoided them. I feel guilty avoiding them, because everytime I met them in the hallways, they would look at me with pain in their eyes…

On the third day, Wooyoung is waiting for me outside my class room. It was time to go home, so I tried to avoid him and leave but he called my name, so I stopped on my tracks and turned to face him.

“Y/N... I know I messed up and I’m really sorry. Please stop ignoring us... I know what we did was wrong and illegal, but we stopped now. I swear we won’t go near any drugs ever again... Just please forgive us...” He says with a pleading face and my heart breaks at the sight.

“I’m glad you understand that what you did was wrong... but I don’t know what to do right now... Woo, let me have some space for a few more days, ok?”

“Take as much time as you need. I won’t put pressure on you. I just wanted you to know you mean a lot to us, to me.. and we miss you already.”

“Thank you for understanding, Wooyoung. I’ll leave now, bye.”

“Bye...” He says in a small sad voice.

On Saturday I write them a message in our group chat, saying that I want to meet up.

We’re all gathered in a park. The boys look at me with what I can only describe as hope.

“What you did was wrong.” I start off. “Still, you seem to understand that and you’re trying to make things right now. I appreciated this and I want to be by your side in this process and help you.”

“Does this mean you forgive us and still want to be our friend?” San asks excited.

“Yes, San.” When the boys hear my answer, they quickly envelope me in a big group hug.

“Thanks for coming back to us, Y/N.” Wooyoung says, giving me another hug, and I hug him back tightly as I’ve missed him.

After a month, everyone at school found out about my relationship with Wooyoung. We also told our parents, and they were extremely happy for us.

We’re really happy together, he’s so good to me. He’s caring, understanding, and helps me a lot when I have any problems. Thanks to him I’m also getting more open and comfortable around people I don’t know. He brings out the best in me and I’m grateful for this.

We’re on a date at the Amusement Park. We’ve been on almost all the carousels, the only ones left are the big ones, as I'm scared of heights.

Wooyoung won me a cute puppy plushie at one of the games. We also ate a lot of food, especially coton candy; everything went great today.

"Hey, I want to ride one last thing before we go."

"Which one?" I ask as I look in the direction that he's looking too, only to see The Big Whell. My eyes are widening at the sight of it.

"No! No! You said you’re fine if we’re not going on the big rides." I say shaking my head, not wanting to even get close to that thing.

"I am, but I want to enjoy the view from up there with you, baby. Please, I promise nothing will happen to you. Don't you trust me?"

I sigh in defeat seeing his puppy eyes. He knows I can’t refuse him if he does this and he smirks at me, proud he won me over so easily. He then starts dragging me excited to the queue of people.

We wait in line for about 30 minutes until our turn to get in one of the boxes comes. We sit down and I grip Wooyoung’s hand as we start moving up. I hide my face in his chest and he laughs a litter. I could feel his vibration through me.

"It’s not funny..."

“Baby, please look at me.” He says softly, but I don’t look up, so he frees his hand out of my grip and coups my face with both of them, bringing me face him.

“We are already up, please look at the view, I promise you will regret if you don’t, it’s really worth it. I want to look at it together with you.” He says pleading me with his eyes and I nod my head in response. His face breaks into a beautiful smile at this.

I look out the window and my mouth opens a little at the sight that hits me. He was right. It’s so beautiful. It’s already dark outside so the city is illuminated. Everything looks so small from here.

I turn to face Wooyoung and he looks at me too.

“I love you, Y/N.” He just tells me this for the first time.

“I love you too, Wooyoung.” I say and he kisses me gently. He tries to pour all his love for me in the kiss and I respond back with the same amount of affection.

masterlist

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46inpm · 4 years

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MLQC Housemates

When Victor, Lucien, Kiro, Gavin, Shaw, and MC are housemates

It’s been awhile since I’ve done a headcanon

Victor - Red, Lucien - Purple, Kiro - Orange (There’s not much color options), Gavin - Blue, Shaw - Green (Once again not much color options), MC (You) - Pink

Living with five guys and one girl is hard especially when they all are in love with that girl but it’s fun

They live in a mansion as they all have the money to afford it and it would give them a lot of space

Victor mainly runs the household and the others help out or they face a two hour lecture

Mainly Kiro, Shaw, or MC get the lectures

Victor has the biggest bedroom while you have the second biggest since you’re the only girl of the house

There’s a big kitchen where Victor, you, amd Kiro normally are

Victor at times wants to beat everyone’s asses out the door because they annoy him so much

“There are no Tik Toks at the table.”

*Kiro does a Tik Tok dance with his arms*

“Kiro that’s enough!”

Lucien and Victor always make passive aggressive remarks at each other that everyone thinks they’re about to throw hands

They argue about the way the other is close to you earlier, you know jealous boyfriends

Kiro tries to calm down the situation with MC or distract them which rarely works but he tries

You have to tell them to stop or say something dumb to diffuse the situation

Any meals of the day is alway hectic as you guys talk about your day, things going on in the world, dumb things you’ve done

When Victor, Kiro, or Gavin return home after so long everyone goes out to eat and celebrations always calls for a feast

Kiro has countlessly dragged you to the kitchen with Shaw tagging along in the middle of the night to get snacks but Victor catches you

“You three idiots are this close to losing your dessert privileges. Go to bed.”

“We’re sorry! Please don’t take away our pudding and cake!”

Always ends with you and Kiro hugging his feet to not do it like little kids

You buy dumb things online like children science experiments that you do with Lucien and Kiro in the kitchen then everyone joins in

Somehow with an actual scientist the 9+ age experiments turn complex due to Lucien adding new things

Gavin tends to the large garden with Lucien as they surprisingly get a long quite well

They name the decorations they put in the yard like Hoppy, Penny, Lucky because Gavin just doesn’t know what other names to call them

You’ll find Gavin cleaning them and talking to them as if they’ll listen

“Shaw’s getting on my nerves again with always getting MC in trouble. Kiro helped me pick out some outfits the other day. Lucien tells me cool stuff I never knew about. Victor’s also getting on my nerves.”

Shaw once was yelled at when Victor found out he threw a massive party with his college friends at THEIR HOUSE, the cups and trash everywhere

Victor and the others yelled at the unknown guests who were asleep in their rooms and who knows what happened on their beds

“It would be best to throw out our bed sheets and comforters or get them thoroughly cleaned. We could run the risk of getting diseases from their body fluids.”

“God knows what these drunk college kids did in our bedrooms.”

“My poor bed’s been defiled!”

Kiro and Gavin get a long really well like a Golden Retriever and a German Shepard it’s cute as they have a big bro-younger bro relation

Shaw and Gavin had to have Lucien and Victor pull them off each other because Shaw teased you and gave you dirty talk and Gavin just BAM!!

Victor needs more wine because you morons

When the remote to the main living room with the giant high quality beautiful sounding speakers tv isn’t occupied particularly everyone runs to watch their show

You always win, I guess small hands are quicker at grabbing things

If you watch tv expect the others trying to get you to lean on them then it will slowly turn to a big cuddle party with blankets and snacks

“No fair, Lucien! Why do you get to cuddle with Miss Chips! I just got home from my tour! Miss Chips, why don’t we cuddle instead?”

“In a hour or two you can have her. Haha, you’re just like a cute puppy dog.”

Victor brings either you or Kiro to help him with grocery shopping because he wants to be around you and he doesn’t trust Kiro with the task

Kiro once bought a bunch of junk food than ingredients for food

Everyone gets jealous when they see you taking a nap with one of them like NO FAIR

I can’t tell you how much these men and women would be chaotic

Shaw and Kiro are like highschool best friends well they didn’t know each tiene back then but they act like good friends who mess around and are young

“I can’t believe you’re older than me. You don’t act older or look older. So is MC and she’s running a company.”

“Thanks!”

“Wasn’t a compliment but whatever.”

You don’t have to worry about burglaries as Kiro has top quality technology around the house, Gavin works for the police, Lucien’s middle name is “I’ll-secretly-be-the-one-to-torture-the-intruder”, and Victor has money

If you told them that you felt like someone was watching you in your room, all men would freak out and come up with a plan to catch the guy

Till then you would rotate on who’s room you sleep in

Even though they fight and get on each other’s nerves A LOT they do care like a family

I mean they go on vacations and celebrate with each other

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curly-bangtan · 4 years

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Heatwave Drabble #5: for the birthday boy (M)

[Heatwave // Godless // Heatwave Drabbles]

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Summary: For Taehyung’s birthday, you’ve planned a special surprise-filled evening just for him as his best friend by day, fuck buddy by night. But especially after a few drinks, he finds it difficult keeping his hands off you, which isn’t a good thing in front of all your friends.

Genre: drabble, smut, fwb au, roommate au, f2l

Warnings: teacher/student roleplay (if you’re not into that, just skip to the next scene, it’s meant to be slightly sarcastic anyway), brief lap dance, oral (m&f), overstimulation (m&f), unprotected sex (your girl finally invested in the pill yay), cum dumpster, facial, cum play and consumption, squirting, basically filth, light BDSM like spanking, handcuffs, choking, the usual, daddy kink (you know HW!Tae)

Word count: 11.3k yikes

A/N: Happy early birthday to the best boy! Why do I call these drabbles when it’s basically a series at this point smh -_- Enjoy this filthy monster~

“Surprise! Happy Birthday!”

Taehyung jumps beside you as you switch on the lights to your flat, illuminating the room full of people leap out from their hiding place at his arrival. The last syllable of their celebratory chant hangs in the air for an awkward moment as he takes in everything you put together for his birthday surprise.

Shiny party streamers decorating the walls, black and gold balloons bobbing against the ceiling, printed photos of your best memories together hanging from shelf to shelf, all his and your closest friends gathered to greet him. And of course, the impeccable two-layered strawberry chocolate sponge cake sitting on a platter that you know would excite him the most.

A smile spreads his mouth wide and square as he turns to you, his cheeks bundling up like rising bread in sheer elation.

“No you didn’t, Y/N.”

Then you’re being suffocated in a bone-crushing hug, your ribs almost cracking under his snake-like squeeze. His chest rumbles in the most boyish giggle.

“Hap-pee-burf-day-” You manage to utter as you move your arms between two to create some space for you to breathe.

Seeing Taehyung this happy, especially knowing you’re the cause of it, is truly a feeling matched by no other. You don’t have a massive squadron of friends, you are more the type to carefully select those you actually like and get along with. To put it badly, you’re picky, judgy and quite a bitch when it comes to making friends. But the few you actually care about, you love ferociously and passionately, willing to cut off your own limb for them. And Taehyung is at the top of that list.

“You’re actually the best, I love you.” When he finally lets you go from his painful but appreciated embrace, his hands rest on your waist, lingering.

You had just treated him to a birthday dinner at his favourite steakhouse, roommate to roommate, in order to enable this surprise party. A few pints might have been downed for the occasion, which explains his excessive touching. Taehyung has never been able to hold his liquor, always a lightweight. The number of times you’ve had to half-carry half-drag him out of a club and stick your fingers down his throat in a dark alley is truly embarrassing for him.

“I am the best. You’re lucky I love you too, dork.” With his nostrils flaring from excitement, you can’t help but pinch his nose before turning to the guests and properly starting the party.

To be honest, you wouldn’t have been able to pull it off without the help of anyone else. His parents have come to town to visit him during the day, so off he went to show them around the food market, the park and his favourite vintage stores. Which gave you plenty of time to set up the house, prepare the refreshments, and buy the birthday cake. But keeping him from returning home was a feat that you had to enlist his parents’ aid in, and ever the obedient son, Taehyung of course did not argue when his folks disagreed with his suggestion to go back to the apartment. Then, it was a matter of taking him to dinner, deftly urging him to meet you there rather than going together from the flat so not to miss your reservation. The rounds of alcohol and your tiny bladder slyly masked the many bathroom runs you took in order to text Lotta to gather everyone to your place. And when everything was set, you headed back with the clueless Taehyung, giddy with a belly full of Michelin star food.

It was purely out of your headstrong resistance that you two didn’t stumble into the apartment making out, exposing your on-going debauchery to all your unaware friends. He had begun to feel you up on the way home, grabbing your ass one too many times for it to be merely playful. Honestly, it’s never easy rejecting his advances, not with your nymphomaniac track record anyway. But tonight was especially difficult, knowing what you have planned for him after the party…

From the corner of your eye you see Taehyung chattering away with friends from his class, and from the way he’s waving his hands around, you can tell it’s about the latest Christmas horror story of the two of you trying to stuff a turkey.

The memory of you yelling at each other to grab-this-grab-that warms your chest more than the white wine you’re sipping on. It’s always these stupid anecdotes that mean the most.

“Looks like he’s enjoying himself.”

Lotta’s voice startles you from your thoughts. Hands held behind her shyly, she smiles at the sight of the outburst of laughter from the guests at his story.

Aside from Taehyung, you would say she’s your best friend, having gone to the same highschool together and now the same university. You knew you would be close the moment she told you her star sign - there isn’t a more iconic duo than an Aries and a Leo. She puts up with a lot of your shit but also isn’t afraid to scream some sense into you whenever you pull something rogue, which you guess is very often.

“Yep. He should probably stop drinking though.” You say as you watch him tip the contents of his glass down his throat. “I swear to god if he throws up on the couch, I’ll chop his dick off.” Of course you wouldn’t, how could you ever bring yourself to hurt that godsent meatstick that fuck tears out of you? You both giggle nonetheless.

“You’re funny with him.” Lotta is wearing a smug expression that you distinctly dislike.

“What do you mean?”

“You act like he’s some annoying brother who you hate, but then you go and take him to this boujee-ass steakhouse, throw him a surprise party and splash out on his birthday gift. You beat him up when he uses your shampoo, kick him when he accidentally scrunches up your notes, and threaten to emasculate him if he spills alcohol on your favourite couch that you treat like your newborn child. But you secretly care so much about him that I know you’d give him your kidney if he needed one.”

You blink at her.

Not quite sure what to say.

“Well, yeah, of course I care about him. Like you said, he’s a brother to me.” Okay, but do you let someone who’s just a brother to you cum on your face? “You don’t live with him so you don’t know what a useless brat he is. He burns pasta, Lotta. Pasta. Seriously, he’s such a dipshit, but of course I care about him. What’s funny about that?” Lying straight through your teeth is a Y/N specialty. As long as you say it with enough confidence, you can sell any bullshit.

But maybe you’re sounding a little defensive.

Lotta is clever, it is why you’re friends. Where this observation of hers is headed, you’re unsure of. She could turn this into a lecture about your abrasive personality, or suspect that something else is going on between you and Taehyung other than sharing rent.

“Nothing, I just said it was funny. The way you are.” Her smile tells you that it’s probably the former of the two possibilities.

“What can I say, I’m a funny person.” Not entirely buying it though, you shrug and play along.

Another bout of laughter breaks out from Taehyung and his friends, catching both your attentions. He thrives in social situations like these, good at entertaining people with his odd humour. You watch the flash of his teeth, the crinkle of his amused eyes, tongue flicking out to wet his lips every other sentence.

“You know, he actually is really hot.” Now, that you didn’t expect at all. Your head whips to face your best friend, whose eyes fixes back on yours but not before you catch her checking him out.

“Um, what?”

“I’m just saying. You can’t deny that he’s gorgeous, charming too.” Brows raised, Lotta lifts both hands up in defense when she see the arrows your glare is shooting at her. “Definitely the best looking guy I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re drunk. Since when did you admit that Taehyung is ‘hot’?” In complete ridicule, you scoff at her. Though, her point is completely 100% valid and true.

“Do you see me with a drink? I’m sober tonight, got an early shift tomorrow.”

“Why are you suddenly saying this? Weren’t you the one who wouldn’t shut up when I went to Mykonos with him because you thought I was too blinded by his looks to even know if he’s a serial killer?” Never has Lotta expressed the slightest, most remote of interest in Taehyung, not once properly acknowledging his attractiveness.

“I’m just saying. It’s a shame that you can’t see him that way anymore after spending so much time together.” It’s her turn to shrug, again with the annoying cocky expression.

Yes, after spending so much time sleeping together, more like.

“Yeah, no. That’s gross. You won’t get it because you don’t have a guy best friend. But trust me, no way would I ever go there with him.” Go ahead and call you a pathological liar, you don’t care. You’d never hear the end of it if Lotta finds out you and your ‘guy best friend’ have been knocking boots for over half a year.

You catch Taehyung glancing over to you, eyes twinkling with amusement, signalling for you to come over and join his crowd. Telepathy is one of your secret talents nowadays, you just know each other so well that spoken words are not a necessity for communication.

Taehyung watches you manoeuvre past those chattering bodies from across the room, making your way towards him with Lotta trailing behind. He knows he is definitely drunk, so it might just be the alcohol getting to his head but something looks a little different about you tonight. By that, he doesn’t mean your curled hair, or that new red dress you’re wearing that introduces your cleavage to the entire world. You’re kind of… glowing. There is a permanent smile on your face, even while resting the corners of your lips are turned up. And when you’re in a good mood, you are so transparent about it that you basically radiate like a disco ball in the room.

His chest feels warm. Maybe it’s the wine.

“Fuck, she’s so fit.”

For a second, Taehyung is worried that he thought out loud, but then realised that the voice belonged to Seojoon. He turns to his friend to find him ogling at your figure.

He doesn’t know what to say. It’s weird if he agrees. But he also doesn’t trust his inebriated state to execute a flat out lie that convincingly.

“You don’t know how lucky you are to have Y/N as your roommate, man. If it were me, I would’ve tapped that on the first night.” Seojoon continues, taking a swig of his beer.

“As if you could.” Taehyung snorts, unable to help himself. “She’s out of your league, ass.”

“Fair point. I heard she is a freak in bed, too. Do you ever hear, like, sex noises?” A freak indeed.

“Sometimes…” It’s true, even now. Occasionally he will stumble home with a girl he picked up at the bar only to hear the bed creaking furiously or breathy moans sounding from your room. Walls are thin. Sometimes it turned him on, other times it pissed him off.

“Bet you wank to it, eh? Taehyungie?” Seojoon ruffles his hair just as you and Lotta come within earshot. Liquor-brazen, he is suddenly overcome with an urge to announce to the whole room: Y/N and I are fucking. Yeah, that’s right. She’s my fuck buddy, so you can stop trying to hit on her right now because I’m gonna be the one she’s riding tonight. Seojoon, fucking suck on that. I don’t need to wank to her sex noises when I’m the one coaxing them from her.

However, a small sober part of his conscience tells him that he really shouldn’t do that; if he does, he probably won’t get any riding tonight. So he clamps his mouth shut.

You arrive amidst them in that sinful dress that reduces Taehyung to a teenage boy, and you take your turn giving them brief hugs as formalities, your best friend beside you mirroring your action. When you reach Taehyung, he pulls you in roughly by the waist, wine sloshing in his hand. From his careless force and lazy grin, you can tell he is almost completely gone. Taehyung is a wine-killer, but wine is also a Taehyung-killer.

Highly conscious of the presence of all your mates while he clearly isn’t, you pretend to roll your eyes and pry his hand off the small of your back. It doesn’t budge. So, awkwardly, with your midriff locked in Taehyung’s arm, you lean over to hug his last friend Woosik who gives you a shy pat on your shoulder.

The conversation resumes, morphing into Lotta telling everyone the most embarrassing stories of you during high school - back when you had braces and had the biggest crush on the captain of the football team. You don’t even try to deny it, laughing along at your pathetic 14 year old self. Though, you’re only half paying attention, the other half is keenly aware of the way Taehyung’s thumb is rubbing gentle circles on your pelvic bone. When you peek up at him, you find him already staring at you with eyes you know too well.

The ‘I’m gonna eat you out until you squirt’ eyes.

Fuck.

Then you notice Lotta’s sharp eyes on Taehyung’s hand gripping your waist. The ‘hold up, what could be happening over here?’ eyes.

Double fuck.

Tipping your toes, you whisper into your roommate’s clueless ear. “Let go, people are watching.” You almost allow your lips to graze his skin because you know how much it turns him on, but you remember to behave. But this close, his warm familiar scent tingles your nose in a way that makes you want to hug him.

Taehyung pulls away to look at your face, clearly displeased, then regards everyone in the circle. When he notices Lotta’s focus on the two of you, he slowly withdraws his paw, but not without purposely brushing past your ass.

“Strawberry-flavoured lube?”

Taehyung audibly gasps in disbelief as he tears open his poorly wrapped present.

“Yeah, you like strawberries right?” Seojoon chuckles and claps his back so violently that he falls forwards. On the other side of him, you haul him back up onto the sofa.

Everyone is gathered around the pile of birthday gifts on the coffee table, but not before witnessing you scold Woosik for not leaving his drink on the kitchen island from which the couch is a safe distance to prevent any spillage. Lotta just laughed at your fixation.

So far, the array of presents Taehyung has received ranges from Amazon vouchers, to expensive whiskey, to a funky tie. Yours sit furthest away from him, which he practically leapt in excitement when he saw the size of, only to be forced to open it last because you insist it’s going to be the best one.

“You’re insufferable, Seojoon.” Taehyung rolls his eyes yet fails to suppress his grin. Oh, you’re definitely trying out the lube at some point.

After ripping into a couple more, he finally arrives at your present for him. It spans an entire arm’s length; you know every guest must be wondering to themselves what it could possibly be. Taehyung drops onto his knees before it and carefully peels away the tape this time, knowing it probably took you awhile to wrap it up this neatly. You watch his long cautious fingers reveal the gift you had spent weeks raking your head for.

“Stop…” His eyes light up at the polished cedar easel that he caresses over as gentle as he would your skin. But as he continues to unwrap the present, a box of oil paints, a wooden palette and a set of 16 expensive natural fibre brushes are unveiled. “Oh my god, there’s more?”

Ceasing in action, he looks up at you, jaw so slack you bet you can throw a pea into his mouth even with your bad aim. The surprise on his face, almost a replica of his expression when everyone jumped out at him and yelled ‘Happy Birthday’ an hour ago. Except this time there is something more tender about how his wide pupils bore into yours. It makes you squirm.

Then without warning, he dives onto you, crushing you in the most fatal of embraces; you swear something in your spine cracked as you fall back onto the cushions, suffocated. People let out a sound of amusement at your struggle, but with his warm breath fanning your neck, you don’t even hear them.

After allowing this sweet painful moment for a few seconds more, you shove Taehyung’s heavy body off you, harder than you need so he slumps onto Seojoon.

“You’re actually the best, I love you.” He squeals like a boy on Christmas day before examining the paintbrushes with the utmost careful touch, as if afraid he would bend the bristles the wrong way.

What is he so cute for?

You kind of really want to pat his head and kiss his cheek right now. But there’s an audience obstructing.

Looking up, you lock eyes with Lotta. She is smiling, endeared by the purity of his reaction as well. See, not even she is immune his stupid cuteness. How are you supposed to?

Taehyung’s heart is constricting as he strokes the fine wooden edge of the giant disassembled easel. Of course, you know him better than any of his other friends. He has recently expressed an interest in painting, though his love for art and sophistication has been harbouring for a while now. He has only ever made subtle comments about wanting to properly get into it but not having the proper equipment to and not knowing the best brand to purchase. Yet you had picked up on it nevertheless. Everything combined must have costed you a significant portion of your allowance. Even he would not have splashed out this much on himself.

He turns back to you again from where he kneels in front of the coffee table. You are observing him with a thing he wishes to be adoration, a glimmer in your smile that wears more beautiful than any dress on you. For a second, there’s a flutter in his stomach and it confuses him because it feels an awful lot like butterflies.

But then you kick his back with the heel of your foot to get him to stand and Taehyung remembers that you are best friends. He’s not supposed to be thinking like that.

After cutting the cake, with food being a major satisfaction factor of any party, everyone sort of just hovers, huddled in their little groups with their plate of dessert in one hand, while they resume their conversation. The music is turned up loud so they all have to half-yell; some don’t even bother talking as they dig in, you included.

Being a quiet eater that you are, you stand by the island counter, sipping your wine in between bites of that chocolate decadence. Taehyung approaches you with his already empty plate; you haven’t even made it through half your slice yet. Judging by the lethargy in his step and that icing-slathered grin he has worn the entire night, you can tell he was the one who finished the second bottle of wine you opened.

“Hey.” Your fingers do a weird little wave that is so completely uncharacteristic, but tipsy-Y/N is sort of that friendly and laid back.

“Hey, pretty.” His hand trails around the corner of the counter surface and traps you between it and his body as he comes up behind you. Immediately you stiffen, looking around to see if anyone, especially Lotta, is looking. But when you find everyone preoccupied either with each other or the cake, your shoulders relax.

“What’s up? You having a good time?” Twisting to face him, you edge back until the counter digs into your back. Taehyung’s face is a dangerous proximity to yours.

The anticipation for the night you have planned for him in your bedroom thrums in your core. Patience has never been one of your strengths, and right now it is testing your very limit. You could kick everyone out right now if you really wanted to. But you won’t. You’ll wait.

You wipe the chocolate off the corner of his mouth with a swipe, the gesture you can’t tell if motherly or romantic. And just because Taehyung is peering down at you so longingly, you flick your tongue out and suck the sweetness on your thumb.

His breath hitches.

“Uh- I…” For a second, all thought is scattered in his brain, and you almost laugh aloud at how susceptible he is to your attacks. “Yeah, of course. I’m having the best time.”

“Am I the best roommate ever or what?” You watch his eyes trained on your mouth. From his alcohol scent, you don’t trust him to have enough restraint not to kiss you right now so you turn your back to him and rest your elbows upon the island top, leaning over to finish your cake.

In your peripheral vision, you spy his hands crawling towards your sides to cinch around your waist, his front pressing into you as he holds you from behind. The warmth of his body seeps into your back, and you swear you can feel the beating of his chest against your shoulder blades. A tingle shoots straight down your spine when he plants a soft, brief kiss on the shell of your ear.

Good thing you turned around then, your intuition was right. Taehyung has never been able to suppress his overt affection after a few drinks, and certainly not after this many. And no matter how much you want to just turn around and pull him into your lips, you fight it.

“Babe...” He groans into your ear and though it was barely audible even to you, you quickly glance up to see if anyone has heard. Of course, no one heard, they are all stood far enough that even without the music, they’d have to strain their ears to hear his whisper. Paranoia is eating your head away.

“Don’t ‘babe’ me, Taehyung.” Your heart is racing, which is weird because you swear you used to be completely immune to his charms. “You’re being too obvious, babe.”

“You don’t ‘babe’ me. I can’t control myself when you call me that.” The warmth of his breath fans all over the back of your neck, sending a convulsion of shivers down your spine.

One of his hands stretches for your wine glass, but knowing him well enough to predict it, you draw it away from his reach. “Stop drinking, you’re literally about to pass out.”

“No, you’re about to pass out. On my-” hiccup, “dick.” You keep your eyes locked on the crowd, ready to shove Taehyung away if anyone looks your way. But still, you can’t help but lean back into him.

“That made no sense.” You chuckle, fingers brushing over the smooth thin skin of this hand.

“Just one sip.”

“Taehyung. Stop. Drinking.” You grab his hand that tries to make a run for the wine again.

“But, Y/N…” He whines and slumps onto you, knowing that whining has gotten him what he wanted before.

You turn around, grab his face and pull him towards you until your mouth is brushing his earlobe. “Be a good boy and stop drinking if you want the best birthday sex of your life after this party. You better not get whiskey dick because a have a lot planned for you.”

At that, Taehyung stops breathing, stops resisting. Against your shoulder, you feel his chest jump. “Oh. Um. Okay, yup, no more drinking. Got it, ma’am.”

He sighs, completely at your disposal, as your touch trails from the sensitive side of his neck down to his torso. “Good.” After looking around again to check that no one is looking, you press your alcohol-infused lips onto his hastily, savouring his softness for no longer than a few seconds before pulling away. God, is it difficult to pull away. You’re aching for him. “Go entertain the guests while you sober up.”

Satisfied grin from the kiss stretched across his face, he nods obediently and scampers over to his friends.

“Are you ready yet?” Taehyung calls, impatient and giddy, the music that you’ve put on playing softly in the background.

“Give me one more second.” You reply from the bathroom, doing up your last button and regarding yourself in the mirror. Hm, not bad. You’re pleased with how this turned out, if you do say so yourself. Taehyung is going to lose his mind.

Sheer black stockings stretched thin over your legs, you strut into his room where he is seated on a chair in nothing but his boxers, wrists shackled to the back. When his eyes land on you, a strangled noise emits from his throat.

“Holy. Fuck. Holy fuck. Holyfuckholyfuckholyfuck.” He chokes out.

The checkered material of your school skirt flies up at your every step teasingly, not high enough for him to peek your panties, but enough for your thighs to be flaunted.The clip of your stockings sit cool and beguiling on your quads. First two buttons of your white blouse undone, the matching red tartan tie hangs loosely around your neck between your exposed, pushed up cleavage. Your hair is tied into two school-girl braids, decorated in ribbons.

You’re Taehyung’s walking talking fantasy.

Innocent, chaste, ready for him to defile.

“Sir.” You address him, committing to your character, as you bow your head in courtesy.

Taehyung doesn’t appear capable of words, Adam’s apple wobbling in awe. So you continue your approach, making sure to regard him with large, demure eyes. As you sink down onto your knees between his widespread trembling legs, you notice a prominence already erecting in his boxers. You try not to smirk.

“What can I do for you, sir?” You put on your sweetest, most virgin of voices and bat your lashes once at him.

Chest rising quickly, Taehyung gulps as he realises that he’s most definitely going about to have the best sex of his life. “Um. Uh. Um.”

Smiling at his malfunctioning cognition, no thanks to you, you decide to help him out a little. “I’ve been sent to you for being a bad girl, sir.”

Do you find this slightly humiliating and degrading? Yes, you’re a woman of pride and a feminist. But does Taehyung’s birthday outweigh your morals? Yes, if only just for this night.

“What… What did you do, baby girl?” Voice dangerously deep, Taehyung watches you from his handcuffed posture, watches you twirl your braids in your fingers before they move sensual down your front, curving over your breasts and travelling to your core.

“It’s embarrassing to say but…” You look down in feign shame. “I touched myself.”

His whole frame tenses, arms straining to be freed from the cuffs so he can throw you onto the bed and fuck you mercilessly. His lips are parted, breath unsteady, cheeks still slightly stained from the alcohol but you made sure that he’s mostly sober by now. “Why did you touch yourself?”

“I was thinking about you, sir, and I just couldn’t help myself. Something started tickling down there and it felt so good to touch it.” Biting your lip, your fingers reach your clit over your skirt and start rubbing. The other hand traces swirls slowly up his thighs, higher and higher, until he’s buckling his hips.

“Wait, pause.” He says, your touch ceasing at his command. “Fuck, Y/N, I’m not going to last if you do this to me. I might even cum my pants.”

Usual smugness returning as you smirk up at him, your teeth digs deeper into your lower lip, refusing to break character. “Well, it’s a good thing we have all night then, sir. A water hose doesn’t just fire once does it?”

“Fuck.” Shutting his eyes, his head falls back to reveal his gulping jugular. Already so malleable? Yeah, he’s definitely not going to last. The first round. “Okay, okay. Resume.”

Your fingers reach the hem of his boxers, skimming through his tan, lustrous inner thighs. He jerks, his hard member jabbing out the soft cotton, begging to be freed. “So I was wondering if there is any way I could get out of this punishment, sir. My parents can’t find out that I’ve been a bad girl. I’ll do anything you want me to do, sir.”

“I see, Miss Y/L/N… How about, you warm up my lap for me first? I’m feeling slightly cold.” He wets his lips and bounces on his toes, his hard length jolting along with his legs.

“Oh, of course, sir.” When you stand up, you make sure to do it slowly, curving your body towards him to give him a good look at your breasts. He doesn’t miss the chance to devour them with his eyes.

Your hips begin to sway in the rhythm of the slow sensual music while you turn until your back faces him. You feel his glare immediate follow your ass, skirt sloshing side to side to reveal your plush cheeks. But rather than falling onto his lap as he wants, you stride over his leg, hand trailing across his chest as you begin to walk around him.

Massaging up his bicep, your hand arrives at his collar as you lick a thin strip up his neck. Taehyung shudders, struggling against his handcuffs again, cursing. “I can do anything you want me to, sir.” He shivers as you whisper into his ear, teeth grazing his skin. Your own heart is racing from excitement. Maybe you should do this more often. It’s selfish of you to do so since it’s meant to be his birthday sex after all, but you enjoy having him helt under you, seconds away from whimpering, gone be his natural preference for dominance.

As you walk around him, his head turns with you, not wishing for his sight to miss a second of this private show. Patience isn’t something he’s born with, he is a man who’s used to ceasing everything he wants. You know what must be going through his head right now, the anticipation, the hunger. So finally, when you’ve done a full circle around, hands not once missing the opportunity to feather his chest, you decide to ease him a little.

Deliberately unrushed, you sit inch by inch down onto his lap until his dick is burrowed between your warm cheeks underneath your skirt.

“Baby…” Taehyung immediately sits up, mouth arriving at the back of your neck, exhaling his hot fervour. The feeling of his skin pressed on the strip of yours between your skirt and cropped blouse has you craving for him to pound into you right now. Nothing can describe the flash of desire you get when you feel the touch of his naked body.

Then you begin to roll your hips, drawing loops of infinity with your ass to the beat of the song. The groan you elicit makes your cunt pulse. Taehyung’s stiff length jerks between your wiggling ass. His head falls onto your shoulder in a huff, metallic sound of his chains ringing as his arms clench.

“Sir, is that warm enough?” Your hips are merciless, rock back and forth, providing him with the friction he so craves. Hell, maybe you should start doing this for a living.

“Y… Yeah.” There is defeat in his voice, a croak that tells you that you’re the only woman to ever put him in his place like this. The only he’d ever submit to.

Slowly, you peel yourself off his lap, delighting in the small stained spot on his boxers, evidence of his drooling dick. You sink onto your knees before him again, fingers crawling playfully up his thighs. “You seem a little stiff, sir. Do you want me to ease some tension in your muscles for you?”

“Please be a dear.” The fervour in his eyes as he gazes down at you is pure, undiluted. It stirs something beastly inside you.

You’ve sucked Taehyung off a hundred times before, but something about the fact that he’s handcuffed to a chair on his birthday, almost cumming his pants, makes you especially eager this time.

A string of precum greets you as you take his lividly throbbing cock out of its restraints. You spare it a few pumps before you enclose the warm wet cave of your mouth around it. It’s perhaps evil of you, but you cut to the chase and go straight to deep-throating. He lets out a yelp of surprise when his tip slides smoothly through and hits the back of your throat. He’s going to cum soon, might as well give him your all, right?

Your mouth has gotten used to resisting the gag reflexes by now, engulfing him like a strawberry ice lolly during the summer heat. The occasional scrape of your teeth, just the way he loves, has him shiver beneath you. If he likes it rough, he should be able to take it rough. And when your tongue begins its inexorable attack at the pinch of skin where his tip ties to his shaft, Taehyung lets out a throaty cry. Not even a moan, a cry.

“Fuck, I’m losing my mind. Y/N, oh my god, keep going.” Through your curled lashes, you gaze up at him. His brows furrowed, guzzling up his favourite view in the world, maybe second to you riding him. Jaw unscrewed, he heaves at your large feign-innocent eyes, wrists dying to be freed so he could fuck your mouth.

Two throbs at the base of his cock, and he’s cumming right down your throat. It’s a larger load that either of you’d expected, telling of his obscene concupiscence. There’s so much cum that you can’t swallow, so you have no choice but to let it flow down his cock. With you still staring at him, he watches his white hot fluid dribble out your mouth and onto him, his features screwed tight in pleasure.

“Lick it off, baby.” Taehyung rasps, half his mind completely gone, dilapidated.

You hum as you spread his liquid around his tip and along his shaft, lips now glossy, before you slowly lap it all up. You know he is particularly sensitive after cumming, so you wallow in teasing his head a bit more, watching him writhe on his seat, whining your name. “Sir, how was that?”

Taehyung’s head is tossed back, eyes shut to recover from that post-orgasm intensity. He doesn’t speak at first, still trying to piece back together his mind. “I… That was… You deserve a worse punishment for doing that to me.”

Your core twists in excitement.

Briskly, you fish out the key to his handcuffs and unlock him, thrumming from the molten fury in his eyes. “What did I do wrong, sir?”

As soon as his wrists are free from their shackles, Taehyung stands and throws you over his shoulders. Smack. He hits your ass, your skirt doing little to soften the blow. You never knew yourself to be a masochist until it comes to Taehyung; his are the only hands you’d allow to spank you.

Then he tosses you onto the bed, your skirt flying up to reveal your peachy ass as you land on your front. “You just love it when I’m under your control, don’t you? Even this innocent school-girl roleplay is just a disguise to get me to beg for you, isn’t it?”

Twisting your head back, a smirk plays at your lips as you regard his frustrated yet immensely pleased expression. His fingers glide up your silky stockings enticingly, sending shivers coursing up your legs. “Sir, I have no idea what you mean.”

“Look at your fucking ass in this skirt, holy fuck.” He begins to knead the supple flesh of your behind, pushing up the skirt until it sit on your lower back.

Another smack.

He’s such an ass man through and through.

“Do you like my uniform, sir?” You moan between his smacks. Nothing really is compelling you to continue with this roleplay, but something tells you that Taehyung is bursting from it.

“I fucking love it, baby girl.” Smack. You can practically hear him grinning in satisfaction. His palm massages the redness he inflicted like smearing paint, touch growing closer and closer to your core.

Then with one push at your inner thighs, he spreads your legs wide open.

“Fucking hell. Crotchless? You’re really spoiling me tonight.” Like a little boy on Christmas Day, he marvels at your glistening slit, gaping at him in anticipation. Another small surprise for him.

“Of course- ahh!” You break into a moan when he runs two fingers down your folds, all the way to your bulging clit. “For the birthday boy.”

“Okay, now you definitely deserve the best head.” He lies on his front and grips onto your thighs to pull himself up to face level with your cunt.

You won’t tell him to prevent further ego inflation but every head he gives is the best head.

“Wait, Taehyung, it’s your birthday. Just let me-” You squirm in his clutch, trying to flip around, but he holds you still.

“Exactly. My birthday. I get to eat you out if I want to. It’s what my baby girl deserves.” For some reason, you blush. Who are you to resist head, especially from Taehyung?

Heat of his breath tickling your entrance, you plant your face onto the pillow and clamp down on your lip, preparing for that mind-twisting sensation that has a way of robbing you of sanity. His mouth finds your thighs first, kissing, sucking, blooming roses of his affection. You let him mark you - you are completely his tonight. Then his breath arrives at the sensitive crevice where your folds begin, a slow seduction towards your tingling bud. When he finally latches onto your clit, your eyes roll to the back of your empty head, a whimper ensuing.

His tongue is a predatory serpent, ceaselessly rolling your bud in his mouth. He’s rough, generous with the waves of pleasure he sends. You wish you aren’t lying on your front right now, just so you can look down at his concentrated face and pull on his wavy mop of hair.

With every flick of his tongue, you swim closer to your orgasm. His fingers are digging to your thighs, his breath quickening with his face buried in you. When he adds his long slender digits, you know your demise is round the corner.

“Fuck, daddy.” You yell into the pillow, that name coming so naturally to you that it requires zero brain processing to leave you.

Taehyung hums in response, those baritone vibrations shaking into your core until your leg involuntarily kicks back. Gripping onto the sheets, a string of profanities expel from you as that euphoric current comes crashing onto you, drowning your surroundings so that all you feel is his face, his tongue, his teeth, still mercilessly going despite your state.

“Fuck!” A tear slips from the violent stimulation at your clit continuing past your orgasm. You guess it’s payback.

Not one minute later, a second climax hits you, this time stronger than the last as it rides on the residual pleasure. The orgasm disperses into tension down your thighs, dying for more friction to relieve your cunt of the blissful ache. Warm tears stain the pillowcase your face is buried in, your cries muffled.

His pace gradually decelerates into soft kisses on your flower, fingers withdrawing to massage your folds. You are motionless, completely depleted after the dopaminergic release. Delicately, his lips travel up to your ass, where he sucks more colours as he awaits your recovery.

“How was that, baby girl?” Taehyung slowly turns you over onto your back, a lazy grin on his glistening mouth, your wetness slathered all over his nose. It views in your eyes as a display of your possession. You don’t miss the triumph in his gaze; you wonder if he likes making you cum more than cumming himself.

“Your mouth is fucking incredible.” You bask in the post-orgasm high, pulling him atop you, hand locking in his curls. You taste yourself as you kiss him, slowly and lethargically, your energy ebbing back to you.

“Yeah?” He smiles against your lips. “You know what’s incredible? You in this fucking uniform.” Pulling away, he scans your body top to bottom. And as you follow his gaze, you notice his hardened cock, once again ready for another round. You surprise yourself with how ready you are to take him, exhaustion not yet settled in from his overstimulation.

“You like it that much?” You press your lips together, and as used to Taehyung’s constant flattery as you should be, you still feel proud.

Taehyung nestles his face onto your neck. “If we went to high school together, I would 100% have been your bitch. Not a single doubt. Whipped.”

Your heart squeezes. Whipped.

You kiss his hair, resisting the urge to make a comment about what he said. “Haha. I would not have noticed you, I was obsessed with the captain of the football team.”

Taehyung lifts his head up, frowning at you with a playful annoyance. “Are you sure you want to mention another man in front of me right now?” For emphasis of his possessive mood, he grinds his member into your thigh. You can’t help but push back to feel him digging into you. Possessive Taehyung toys with your strings.

“Yeah, what are you going to do about it?” You taunt further, pulling on his locks. Taehyung’s competitiveness is an easy target for manipulation; everytime he starts to go soft and sappy on you, all you have to do is tug on his jealousy and the bull will come charging back full force.

Surely enough, he growls into your ear. “Don’t forget who you’re speaking to, miss. You wouldn’t want your parents knowing the naughty things you’ve been up to, would you?” So he does love the roleplay. His tone slightly sarcastic, but also not really. But before you can hiss a witty response, he silences you with his teeth on your neck. As he sucks on your tender skin, your nails rake across his back in pleasure. He’s growing bolder with his territory.

“More hickeys?” You purr, not exactly in the complaining tone you’d wished it would come out in.

“Yeah, what are you going to do about it?” He mocks, leaving a wet purple trail across your throat.

You allow it for the sole reason that it’s his birthday. Otherwise, you’d be kicking off.

You’ve never liked the idea of hickeys, the notion that someone feels entitled to mark your skin as theirs. You don’t belong to anyone. This is your own skin, and no one else’s. Yet - right now, as Taehyung nips at your neck, hand yanking on your uniform’s tie to pull you closer to him, you feel like you do belong…

You don’t finish that thought.

Reaching down, you begin stroking his patiently awaiting cock. “You’re brave for someone who’s dick is in my hands.”

Taehyung breaks away from your neck and reviews his work of art. The wolfish grin an indication of his pride. “You’re going to kill me tomorrow.” He says without the fear that should come with such statement.

Yes, you’re definitely going to.

“Then fuck me until I forgive you.” You challenge, unbuttoning the first button of your shirt while your stroking quickens.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Fingers scrambling to undo the rest of your shirt, his mouth finds yours again, sucking on your bottom lip until it’s sure to swell later. Your bra falls loose with a dexterous flick, a gesture he can do in his sleep. Yet, he makes no move to remove your checkered tie at all.

When you try to loosen it yourself, he grabs your hand and pins it against the pillow. “That stays on tonight, along with the skirt and the stockings.” Voice laced with carnality, there’s a feral glint in his glare.

“Yes, sir.” Smile unstifled, you fall back into obedience.

Taehyung dares to plant more bitemarks down your chest before taking your nipple in his mouth, tormenting the sensitive bud relentlessly. Patience wearing thin, you line his tip with your slit, dallying it around to coat it with your dampness.

“Wait, grab a condom.” He mutters.

“Don’t need one.”

He looks up, confused. “What? Why?”

“I started taking the pill. Surprise.”

The look of pure shock and delight that usurps his face, for the third? fourth? time tonight, sows a seed of joy in your core.

“Wait, seriously?” You swear you feel his cock twitch happily in your hand. That stupid boxy grin that makes him look like a kid again… You want to kiss him dizzy.

“Yes, seriously.” You would never admit that you started taking contraception solely for Taehyung, because that would be weird, you absolutely did not do it for Taehyung. You’d always wanted to start contraception anyway. This was your own decision, influenced by no one else.

Certainly. No one else. Of course.

“Holy fucking shit. Y/N, you’re amazing.” Taehyung cannot contain his glee despite its juxtaposition with his pulsating cock about to enter you any moment now. “All this for me?” He asks, still in disbelief, as if the answer isn’t already written in big bold black letters.

“For the birthday boy, and the birthday boy only.” Your nose grazes his. These are the very words you’d be embarrassed to be caught saying to any guy, yet you’re currently too fuelled by the desire to please him to berate yourself.

Without another second gone to waste, Taehyung pushes his girthy member into your heat. Though it glides in with ease, your walls are stretched so wide that your inside stir, a sore pressure squeezing around him with each thrust. You always seem to forget how well he fits into you, and so each time comes as an eye-rolling surprise - the way he fills you so completely and entirely with his hefty cock.

“Oh fuck, you feel so-” He doesn’t manage to finish his sentence, too caught up in the raw unobstructed sensation of your slick walls.

Lifting your leg over his shoulder, the cavernous angle allows him to jolt deeper into you, his tip violently punching through you. While one hand remains on your ankle, the other twists your tie around his wrist and pulls as if it were a leash. “Sir…” You choke out at the constriction around your throat.

“Are you going to bad girl again?” He grunts, sweat beading on his forehead while he continues to ram his hips.

“No, sir. I won’t touch myself again,” you moan under him, “unless you are watching.”

“Fuck, Y/N.” One eye shut, Taehyung sticks his thumb into your mouth to suckle on. Your tongue swirls around his finger, biting down every time you need to shriek in pleasure.

After a while, he flips your bodies over so that you are riding him, watching, mesmerised, as your breasts bounce freely each time you spring on his dick. Your body falls back at the rippling coil inside you, hands braced on the mattress to keep you upright.

Taehyung could watch you ride him for the rest of his life. Hell, if he has a heart attack and dies this very moment, he would die the happiest man.

Sometimes, while you’re fucking, Taehyung gets a sudden rush of jealousy. Jealous that he wasn’t the one to ruin your innocence. Jealous that someone else other than him got to, or still gets to, fuck you like this.

He pulls on your tie so that you fall over him, lips colliding to remind himself that he’s the one fucking you right now, the rest shouldn’t matter. The way you moan into him reassures that no one has ever, or can ever, fuck you the way he does.

Then a messy whimper leaves you like a symphony, and for the third time tonight, you come undone, unravelled.

“Fu-u-u-uckkk.” You cry, arms looping around Taehyung’s neck, holding on as if he’s your lifeline because you yourself are unsure how much of this you can take before you drown.

“Baby, you’re so good, cumming for me again.” He sings, knowing that words like these thrums something in your core. You lap up his praise, smiling against his teeth despite yourself. It’s honestly a miracle how your usual brusque controlling self is suddenly transformed into his docile little girl, especially after a round of orgasms. “I’m going to cum again too.”

“Daddy, fuck, please. Cum inside me.” You pant, hips bouncing as fast as your aching muscles allow. Truth be told, no one has ever finished inside you before. And you are dying to find out how it feels.

Taehyung seems to know this. He grabs onto your waist, holding you in place, and plunges unforgivingly into you, penetrating your walls so ardently that you are shoved near the brink of yet another orgasm.

A grumble rippling through the room, finally, you feel a hot jet shoot into you, squirt after squirt of his thick cum filling you up. He frowns, a hoarse cry from the immense pleasure arriving at his cock, taking over him. Fucking hell, this is hot.

And kind of really intimate.

However, you notice that his pace has yet to slacken.

“I’m not done with you yet.” His eyes open to reveal pupils glowing with vehemence. Your clit throbs.

Still inside you, he turns you over so that you are both on your sides spooning, one of your legs hoisted up by his rough grip. The slap of your skin rings crisp and clear as he continues to fuck you. You lean back into him, ignoring the sticky coat of sweat coalescing your skins. His cum lubricates each thrust as you feel some spill out of you. His fingers start to stimulate your clit to help you reach your ultimate climax, viciously rubbing your sensitive swollen bud so much that you begin to see stars.

For him to keep fucking you even after cumming despite his tremendous sensitivity… Taehyung is going wild tonight.

“Are you going to cum one last time for me, baby girl?” He pants heavily in your ear.

“Yes, daddy.” Your own cunt is leaking profusely its tears of joy; you don’t think you’ve ever been this wet before.

In a few more thrusts, Taehyung is cumming inside you again, this time naturally less than the last, yet from his loud coarse groan, you deduce is much more intense. He pounds slowly yet robustly, milking every last drop into you. Due to the sheer oversensitivity, he has no choice but to pull out of you immediately after, leaving a spurt of his cum surging out of you.

“Oh my god.” He moans into your neck, both your heads spinning from the vigour of your intercourse.

But he knows you’re still a minute away from your orgasm. And never one to disappoint, he quickly sits up and spreads your legs open.

“Holy fuck.” Taehyung freezes at the sight of his cum slowly trickling out of you. To him, it’s a sign of possession, ownership. Apart from his ex, he has never fucked without protection, certainly not those random one night stands. To him, it’s a sign of intimacy.

Catching his white liquid in two fingers, he inserts it into your already gaping mouth, smearing it all over your tongue. In your cute little braids, you swallow it willingly, and Taehyung swears that he could fuck you again right then and there.

“You like that?” He asks, sticky fingers entering your core, feeling how clenched you are due to the pent up pressure.

“Mhmm.” You nod, hips lifting off the bed so that he can reach deeper. His thumb massages your clit, long digits moving in a come hither motion, stretching your walls in cusps that his cock did not have the ductility to reach. “Ahh, shit.”

Determination worn on his face despite his tiring limbs, Taehyung fucks you with his finger as you thrash beneath him. Your clit is already exploding with sensitivity from the previous rounds, and on top of that, with his thick knuckles push into you again and again, you are clawing at him while your whole body convulses.

The coil within your finally snaps. The ecstatic sensation exploding within you, flooding your every fibre until tears spring out your eyes. A clear liquid shoots out of you to both your surprises, and sprays its droplets towards Taehyung. His eyes widen, marvelling at your beauty as you cum not only on his fingers but all over him.

“Jesus Christ!” Chuffed with himself evidently, he leans in to kiss you, deep and desperate, while his fingers slow their steady thrusts to let you ride out the remainder of your high. His mouth is warm, a familiar taste as you regain your sense of self and surrounding that you tend to lose during sex.

As your brain begins to function again, the first thought you register is how much you don’t want to stop kissing Taehyung, how much you don’t want to let go of him.

“Taehyung…” You whine, bottom lip in the possession of his teeth.

“Feeling good?” He lets go of his bite, but lips remain dearly magnetised to yours. Dragging out his fingers, the wet noises of your clenched walls ring. Taehyung sucks on his dripping digits as you push his sweat-dampened fringe out of his face to survey his eyes. Full of yearning. And the way he is sucking… appears almost as a last display of submission after completely ruining you. A last shred of I’m yours.

“So.” You peck him. “Fucking.” Another. “Good.” Peck. Your bodies naked, your skirt creased and skin claggy, you refuse to release each other from your embrace. “But Taehyung…”

“What it is, my baby?” From on top of you, he is looking down at you as if you’re some delicate little buttercup in a barren field, a ray of joy radiating from his smile.

You tense. My baby.

You two might be kind of screwed...

But you’ll think about that another time. Right now, you just want to be held and kissed and looked after.

“It’s not fair. This was meant for you, but you made it about me.” You don’t know what’s taken over you but you pout at him, the same way he would do to you when he wanted something. But why, of course, it’s just like Taehyung to make you come four times despite it being his birthday sex. You don’t even know what to expect for your own birthday.

His own hair dishevelled, he tucks your loose braids behind your ears, a gesture of affection. “Nothing gets me off more than making you feel good. This was about me. This was everything I wanted. Best sex I’ve ever had. But in what world would my best sex not include making you squirt?”

Your don’t know why but you feel incredibly vulnerable right now, your hard edges softening. It’s the after-sex glow that you’re seeing everything in. You feel warm, bubbly, tender.

And now your chest feels weird, like something itching to rupture out of your ribcage. You want it to stop, yet also don’t.

“Taehyung…” You whine his name again. “No fair… You can’t be like this.” Your brain offers no explanation as to why you’ve adopted his usual saccharine manner, other than the fact that he has fucked you completely senseless.

“Like what?” He asks, egging the rare words of sweetness out of you.

“Like… You know… So giving and nice and perf…” Your voice trails off when you notice his excited smirk. God, what the fuck are you saying? You flush in embarrassment.

“Perf…? His smug grin only grows at your shyness.

“Stop. You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Stop teasing me.” Taehyung chuckles at your frustration, taking the chance to kiss the tip of your nose before you try to squirm out of his arms like a cat.

“No, go on. You need to be better with your words. Tell me how you feel.”

Your entire face is heated.

“I… You’re just… You treat me so well. How am I supposed to sleep with anyone else anymore?” You immediately wish you didn’t say it out loud. Because your phrasing implies that you want monogamy, commitment. It’s not what you meant at all, you don’t think. You just meant… You don’t know what you just meant.

You search his eyes frantically, in fear that he’s thinking the same, only to find them calm, content. “I mean, I guess I’m pretty fucking awesome. Thanks.”

Rolling your eyes, you’re grateful for his childish humour obstructing any serious consideration of your words.

“Don’t make me take it back, moron.” You scoff, pinching his round cheek between your knuckles.

“Too bad, it’s my birthday, everything I say is the law.” Still hovering over you, he presses gentle kisses all over your face, delighting in the way you pretend to hate it even though you can’t suppress the smile. When he stops, his face is sincere, the playfulness gone. “Y/N.”

“What?”

“Thank you so much, honestly, from the bottom of my heart. This was… the best birthday I’ve ever had. Not just the sex, but the whole time with you, the dinner, the party, everything.” Your heartbeat quickens, unable to hold his gaze so you focus on the curve of his collarbone instead. “Even better than the pirate-themed birthday party my parents threw me when I turned eight.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Honoured. It was my pleasure.”

“Seriously, I lov-”

Taehyung catches himself before he could finish that sentence. Those unspoken words hang over your heads like a puppet.

Because for some reason, although you’ve said ‘I love you’ to each other a plethora of times in the past, this time feels like a different connotation is implicated. The line between platonic love and romantic love feels blurred. And neither of you know which love is meant.

Taehyung is a sentimental guy, you tell yourself. Of course he means he loves you as his best friend. And that’s surely what you mean too when your eyes are pleading him to keep kissing you.

There’s a moment of silence, for you both to gather your scattered thoughts, staring at each other, unsure what to say.

You clear your throat, dispelling the tension in the air.

“Lets go clean up.”

“Yeah.” Taehyung rolls off you, avoiding your eye as much as you are avoiding his.

The clean up is wordless, both pretending to be too preoccupied to spare the unspoken words any thought.

Except they’re all that’s playing at your mind.

Taehyung didn’t mean it like that. Taehyung doesn’t love you like that. You’re just overthinking. And he’s overthinking about you overthinking. You two are fine, you’re normal.

Examining the purple clouds he had imprinted on you, a stream down your neck, a cluster around your breasts, then the large ones between your thighs, you’re surprised to find not one drip of annoyance. A scary thought dawns on you. What if you like them? What if you like being marked by Taehyung?

What the fuck is happening?

You wait for him to crack a joke to ease up the awkwardness, glancing up at him in the mirror as you dry your hands on the towel by the sink. He doesn’t. Instead, he’s perched on the edge of the bath tube. Zoned out.

Have you finally taken it too far? Finally overstepped that hazy nebulous line that you perhaps should have set more clear?

“Hey, Taehyung.” His head snaps up at you, eyes large with uncertainty. “You okay?”

You want to reach out to touch him, brush his cheek, kiss his forehead. But you hold back. Not wanting to fuel the fire of confusion. But then he tugs you towards him by the hem of your skirt, corner of his lips turning up, imbuing you with a gust of relief.

“Just thinking.” His fingers crawl up your legs, holding onto your hips like his hands belong to nowhere else. ��Come here.”

Chest pounding, you walk towards him, let him sit you down on his lap. Though you wish not to look at him with his face so close to yours, your eyes cannot pull away from his striking beauty. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, but Taehyung’s feel more like the front door to your home. When you look into them, no matter how you’re feeling, whether you’d been fighting or kissing, you just feel embraced in a cloud of clarity, security.

You don’t want to think about the complication between you two at the moment. You just want to be looking at him, touching him, holding him.

You watch him glance at your lips, hesitancy playing at his mind. You know he’s thinking the same.

“We’re okay, right?” Throat tight, you ask, rather pointlessly.

“Of course. We’re great, same old us.” His arm around your waist feels warm and safe, and when your mirror his growing smile, you almost believe him.

But when your lips gently press against his, you know it’s a lie.

You’re not the same old you.

Taehyung feels different. Skin smoother, tastes sweeter, mouth softer. The roughness of his usual kisses is gone, replaced by an inexplicable tenderness that makes you feel things in your gut. You swat those feelings away.

Something is changing. And as much as you don’t want to acknowledge it, you don’t think you can ignore its booming presence.

You don’t dare make a sound as he carries you back to his room. You don’t protest when he throws one of his t-shirts over your head. Nor when he holds you into his chest, lips tracing your forehead with a soft sleepy smile.

Noting that you’re being uncharacteristically quiet, he pokes the nub of your nose. “Who stole your tongue?”

Act normal. Just be your loud annoying self.

“Uh… You.” You murmur, unable to meet his eye even with strenuous effort

Well, fuck.

“Okay, let me give it back to you.” Before you can protest, he is kissing you again. And you want to push him away because you feel your heart lurching to your throat, and you don’t think it is healthy. But your feeble hand that was meant to shove him off lands weakly on his pec, and somehow with a mind of its own, snakes up to his neck and pulls him in. His tongue unfurls onto yours, gently sweeping away any logic.

When his lips finally leave yours, you’re out of breath.

You don’t know what’s happened to you. Since when did you react like this to Taehyung?

Forcing your usual smirk, you try to wear a convincing facade that you feel nothing out of the ordinary. “I’m expecting great things for my birthday, though to be honest this is going to be hard to beat.” The underlying dishonesty tastes sour. You’ve never had to put on a front with Taehyung, and doing so now feels… alien.

“I’ll start planning it tomorrow, don’t you worry, your highness.” Taehyung pretends to roll his eyes at your demand, though the circles he’s rubbing down your back is telling of his genuinity. He isn’t an classically romantic guy, not one for flowers and chocolate, but more a sentimental gift that leaves a deep meaning. You know you’ll love whatever he plans. It worries you that you’ll perhaps love it too much. “But seriously, thank you for everything. The easel? How much did that cost you? I’ve looked at that brand before and there’s no way it was cheap.”

“It doesn’t matter how much it costed.” Warmth is creeping up on your cheeks again. You try to excuse it as Taehyung’s radiant body heat. “Let’s just say I had to resort to prostitution to pay for it, okay?”

Bodies shuddering in laughter, some tension in the air is thankfully alleviated by your humour, filling you with hope that things should and will return to normal in no time. You just need to stop overthinking.

“Hey, can you sleep here tonight?”

You freeze at his request. Because despite your constant fucking around with each other, one clear boundary has been that you don’t physically sleep with each other after sex. If you do sleep over, it is always just a completely platonic gesture. No kissing or fondling. Something about falling asleep in each other’s naked bodies is too mushy and couple-like. The type of thing that make you puke.

“Why?” You frown defiantly at him. “It’s not even your birthday anymore, it’s past midnight. So technically, I don’t have to treat you like royalty anymore.”

“Why not?” Taehyung rebuts, that cocky expression making you want to nipple-cripple him. This difficult son of a bitch, does he not know that the line is going hazy between you two?

“It’s weird, we just had sex.”

“So? What do you have against sleeping together after sex? Scared that you’ll fall in love with me?”

Your chest sinks to your stomach. You swear to god, Kim Taehyung is going to be the fucking death of you, stupid shit. How could he even say something like that so casually?

“In your fucking dreams, prick. If anything, you’d be the one to fall in love with me first, I just made you cum three times.” Taehyung chuckles at the flash of fury in your eyes, amused by how easy it is to strike a nerve in you.

“Do you want me to fall in love with you?” Though his tone is playful, and the wiggle of his brows suggests his mockery, you don’t know if he is completely joking anymore. And suddenly, everywhere that you’re touching - your entangled legs, his hands on the small of your back, your chests pressed on each other - everywhere starts to burn.

“Shut up, I’ll fucking sleep here, okay?”

And so this night, for the first time in the seven months you’ve been on-and-off fornicating alongside your unwavering friendship, you rest in Taehyung’s bed, your frame tucked snugly in his, his arm reposed on your waist. And despite your fatigue, it takes too long for sleep to find you as you watch his shoulders rise and fall in the dark, lips slightly parted, beckoning you to kiss them.

26/12/19

@taexxxiiaa @shookpreme @taetaeobsessed @tangledsparkles @nonexistentfucks @evilkookie @nbiased95 @taehyungmakesmeoof @itscalledgayhoney @tahaing @deliciouslydisturbed365 @expensive-bangtan-girl @jwlmnbt @herakimkim @dnyad @kaepjjang365 @expensive-bangtan-girl@gingerpeachtae @spring2787 @askingtheimportantthingshere @casualminiaturetimemachine @xblackclover13x @vasysauce @deadinsidebitch2412 @emiyooa @i-dont-even-know-fck @chimycthulhu @gixanjos @hisunshiine @xtaeyi @softjellyjimin @bluemooncnblue @malfeitofeitto @bangtanfancamp @keopitae @out-of-jams

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zzapzzaptasers-a · 6 years

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CJ Verse

Or, how CJ’s muses affect everything and yet also nothing on this blog.

A “quick” synopsis:

- Darcy attended a campus tour of Culver, which she’d been already accepted to, in the spring of her senior year of highschool. During this campus tour, the Hulk made his second sighting which actually traumatized Darcy in a way she’s never really been able to explain. So Darcy went to school somewhere else. I’ll probably need to ask CJ where he thinks this would have happened but whatever. At this other university, Darcy took an elective lecture lead by a guest speaker, Kent V Nelson (no longer on his own blog), prior to his appointment as Doctor Fate. Here, we take a few page’s from Kent’s backstory, where he met a college student and had an affair that eventually would end his marriage and ruin his mortal life until becoming Doctor Fate. Darcy was this college student -- in her second semester of college, barely not yet 19. It was her first adult “relationship” and also where, in every verse except one so far, she lost her virginity. When this came out, Darcy transferred back to Culver to avoid scandal. Her parents never knew. From here, after a few years, Darcy either took the internship with Jane (MCU) or became Doctor Jane Foster’s physician assistant (616). I could write an entire post just on the effect Kent had on Darcy, particularly in her future relationships, but I’ll leave that to another day.

- Blackheart ( @broughthelltoearth) owns Darcy’s soul for no reason other than he just wants to. They have a particularly close relationship for two beings that can’t seem to stand one another and the dynamic is hard to parse between them, sometimes. Anyways, in all verses, Darcy’s death will ultimately end with her in Blackheart’s possession to like torture or employ or whatever the hell it is he wants with her. Ultimately, all of her “sin” (as minor or nonfatal as they may be) benefits him in some fashion.

- Nyarlathotep ( @stalkingthestars ) ate Kent V Nelson. Honestly, to understand what it is, it’s probably better to read CJ’s about for it. Darcy’s connection to Kent lead it to her, and it stalked her and tormented her before ultimately torturing he with her father’s death and then growing bored and just yeeting out. Because of it’s classification as a Lovecraftian cosmic horror, Darcy is left touched by its darkness and suffers nightmares, anxiety, and occasional moments of dissociation, all of which is building towards a spiraling madness. This is applicable in all verses, but is almost never addressed outside of threads with CJ’s characters.

- Jane ( @mustbeathor) and Bill ( @harkthestormbreaker) Jane’s the most important person to Darcy, and this particular Jane is just for Darcy’s 616 verse. Darcy isn’t aware Also Darcy runs the Bill fanclub. I don’t make the rules. She’s the president. He’s helping her learn how to defend herself, alongside Darcy’s older sister figure, Anyil. Bill is applicable to all verses.

- Nick Fury (616 @dointhedirtywork) won’t hire Darcy for multiple reasons -- most of all, his concerns over how likely it is she might snap if it comes down to her life vs someone else’s. He still looks out for her, though, still thinks to check in on her every now and again and Darcy’s a little bitter about it, but also really fond of him. He is, in some ways, a replacement father figure, if an often absent one. This one is a little wonky, since he does make comments about Darcy’s MCU life as well as her 616, so THIS Nick exists and doesn’t exist in all of Darcy’s verses.

#ooc #I should probably add the other Kent but oh well

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limejuicer1862 · 5 years

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F WORD WARNING

Wombwell Rainbow Interviews

I am honoured and privileged that the following writers local, national and international have agreed to be interviewed by me. I gave the writers two options: an emailed list of questions or a more fluid interview via messenger.

The usual ground is covered about motivation, daily routines and work ethic, but some surprises too. Some of these poets you may know, others may be new to you. I hope you enjoy the experience as much as I do.

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Thursday Simpson

lives between Peoria, Illinois and Iowa City, Iowa. She is a writer, musician and cook. Her work has recently been anthologized in Nasty! Volume 2, Hexing the Patriarchy and Satan Speaks!. She believes in garlic, onions and Feline Satan. Her twitter is @JeanBava and her full publication history can be found at www.thursdaysimpson.com

The Interview

1. When and why did you start writing poetry?

When I was a kid and throughout highschool I always wanted to write. Mostly back then I would listen to Opeth’s album Damnation or Tiamat’s album Prey and try to come up with my own poetry but it never really happened. But eventually in 2008 I was enrolled in community college and playing in about 10 different bands. I wasn’t really happy playing music so I started thinking about writing again. One of the nice things about writing as opposed to film making or playing music is that there is no recording or filming process. It’s like pure expression, no strings, no tuning, no effects or cables. Sure, you need a laptop and there is always so much revision and study involved. And writing is such a more long term thing than music. A manuscript might take more than five years to go from draft number one to publication as opposed to an album getting written, recorded, mixed and released in a year or two. It’s not that one medium involves more or less work, they’re just different. And the process involved with writing really kind of seemed attractive to me back then. I could sit and read and then write on my computer and email my work to publications instead of constantly practicing and trying to get my riffs recorded on good audio and find a label’s mailing address and trying to get their attention and going on the road and all of that.

2. Who introduced you to poetry?

There are several things that do come to mind, though. Growing up in Galesburg, Illinois one hears a lot about Carl Sandburg. He was born here and a lot of things are named after him. I actually won a poetry contest in the 7th grade put on by his estate and his daughter gave me the prize at a ceremony held at his birthplace.

I think also in the 7th grade our class did a poetry unit where we read poets like Nikki Giovanni and Langston Hughes and Lewis Carroll and Edgar Allan Poe. Looking back on that now, it’s so weird. It was a Catholic school, so we were getting all of this militant right wing anti abortion politics, books like Harry Potter were banned.But we also read poets like Nikki Giovanni and learned about Oscar Romero.

Then once I was in public highschool, I think I started to hear people talk about poetry as something one did to express themselves. Or as a valid art form unto itself. Some people from my highschool used to get together both in person and online and workshop eachother’s poetry. They were who told me about Sylvia Plath and poets like that.

But it was really more professors at my community college that made it start to click for me. One guy was an eldergoth from the 80’s and also used to play music before he became a writer. He really helped me take poetry as something I wanted to do and turn it into something that I did. He taught, “America,” by Allen Ginsberg in class one day and I went out and got a copy of Howl. The title poem, Howl, really fucking blew me away. I think that’s the poem that really made me fall in love with poetry.

3. How aware are and were you of the dominating presence of older poets traditional and contemporary?

At first, very much so. That’s all we were taught in community college. The only non intro lit course was a two part Fall-Spring British Lit survey. I really didn’t like Beowulf or Canterbury Tales or the The Faerie Queene. I loved Shakespeare but didn’t really like Donne and Marvel and etc etc.

And after a month or two of the Enlightenment guys, I really fell for Wordsworth and Coleridge and Byron and the Shelley’s. I read their stuff for the better part of Spring 2010. Then a friend of mine that recently graduated from Western Illinois University asked me to help her run a local writing workshop. And while we were hanging out and planning it she showed me all of the texts they worked on at Western and let me borrow Richard Siken’s book, Crush. And after reading him I fell in love with poetry all over again.

Then once I transferred to the University of Iowa to finish my BA I chose a poetry writing course based on the instructor teaching Siken and Frank O’Hara. The Writers Workshop offers a series of creative writing courses for undergrads that anyone can take. And the instructors are all graduate students currently enrolled in the Workshop. We also studied Jeffrey McDaniel and the Dickman Twins and people like that. She also directed me to poets like Sharon Olds, James Wright, Franz Wright.

In other classes in the English literature department we read people like James Baldwin and Marilynne Robinson and Mary Swander and Raymond Carver and Jane Smiley.

During my last Semester there, Spring 2013, I started reading Maggie Nelson. She was around Iowa City for a bit in 2010 or 2011, guest lecturing and things like that, while she was publishing her book, Women, the New York School, and Other True Abstractions, through University of Iowa Press. So by 2013 everyone in Iowa City was reading Bluets. That book really changed my life. I read everything else Maggie Nelson wrote and then read every author she cited in her work, Simone Weil, Eileen Myles, Cookie Mueller.

Then after reading authors like Dodie Bellamy and Kathy Acker and Chris Kraus I started making friends that shared a love for similar writers. And then I more or less started getting plugged into communities of actual contemporary writers my own age doing the coolest fucking shit.

4. What is your daily writing routine?

It varies! I hate doing the same thing every day. But, I do prefer to write in the morning, first thing. I always hydrate first thing every morning. I’m obsessed with drinking water. Then I either make breakfast and a pot of tea or coffee or just start in on whatever project I’m working on. The longer each day goes on the more shit comes up. And I really need to focus when I write. So I like to get it out of the way first thing. Then it always isn’t in the back of my mind as I do everything else during the day.

In general I try to pattern my work ethic after my favorite athletes. Interviews with Kevin Durant or DeMarcus Cousins or Nyla Rose have taught me so much about what it takes and what it looks like to pursue greatness.

5. What motivates you to write?

I think it’s almost always been work that I admire. Sometimes it’s an interpersonal thing, a breakup or a great hookup or whatever. But almost always it’s because I’ve seen a great film or read a great book or watched a great professional wrestling match or athletic contest.

I really like raw, physically immediate work that takes real risks. That’s why I love pro wrestling so much. It’s such a physical, emotional form of storytelling. A great match from Mitsuharu Misawa in a lot of ways reminds me of a novel like The Orange Eats Creeps by Grace Krilanovich or Like Being Killed by Ellen Miller. Or more recently, Tessa Blanchard’s match with Sami Callihan. Tessa really connects with the audience with her tears and really honest cries of pain throughout that contest. That same feeling and emotion is present in Colt Cabana’s recent title defense against James Storm or in just about anything that Pentagón Jr. and his brother, Fénix do in the ring.

Same with the New Day, Kofi Kingston and Xavier Woods and Big E. I think they’re just about the most talented artists working in professional wrestling throughout this entire decade. There is so much artistic brilliance in their matches with the Uso’s or in Kofi Kingston’s main event work in 2019.

Besides wrestling, films like Night of the Living Dead by George Romero or Living Dead Girl by Jean Rollin really direct my artistic goals. Something raw, real, honest and immediate and emotionally and psychically potent. That’s what I’m always trying to chase and pursue in my own work.

6. How do the writers you read when you were young influence you today?

I think my passion for literature and video games and athletics and film have always been more or less intertwined. When I was about 5 or 6 I started watching the Universal Monster Collection on VHS and got obsessed with horror. I read all of the Goosebumps and Fear Street books from the Galesburg Public Library. I watched the Star Wars films on VHS and then read all of the Star Wars books at the public library. I watched Tales from the Cryptkeeper and Are You Afraid of the Dark and read all of the affiliated franchise novels that the library had.

I first became aware of professional wrestling after renting WWF Royal Rumble on the Sega Genesis. In 1993, 1994 and 1995 the only way to watch wrestling for me was from renting VHS tapes. So anytime I got any money I would rent as many wrestling tapes and horror films as I could afford and watch them over and over.

I didn’t have a computer or access to the Internet until 1999. So mostly every second of my free time was either spent at the library researching films and books or at rental stores reading the VHS boxes.

Crying is a really important spiritual activity for me. Victor Wooten defines crying as something we do when we aren’t able to express our emotions through language. I’ve always cried a lot, regardless of age. My favorite thing to do on my days off is to make a pot of coffee and listen to music or watch a film or listen to an audiobook and cry my fucking eyes out.

The video game Final Fantasy 7 really changed me. I played it fairly soon after it came out in 1997. I became so obsessed with the game. I cried when I played it and I cried thinking about it when I wasn’t playing it. The way it combines such lyrical music with so many incredible greens and blues in the color pallet just really connected with me. I read the strategy guide cover to cover so many times. Video game strategy guides were actually one of my favorite literary genres as a kid. I never owned too many games, but I could afford the strategy guides. So I just read them cover to cover, over and over.

So much of what I do now is born directly out of my obsessions from when I was a child. An interest in Universal Horror led to an interest in the 80’s slasher franchises, that fed into an interest in George Romero’s body of work and so on. Then once I was in college and started to learn about politics and theory and history, horror was such a perfect exploration ground. George Romero’s 1978 film Dawn of the Dead became a renewed obsession. I started thinking of 80’s slasher films as Reagan morality tales.

Coming out of the closet and living publicly as queer and trans for me was very much tied to learning about AIDS in the 1980’s. Reagan’s policies really effected my family in a lot of negative ways. Rick Perlstein wrote a really great two volume work that traces changes in right wing politics from Eisenhower through the 1976 Republican Convention. Those books were such great companions to The Letters of Mina Harker by Dodie Bellamy or I Love Dick by Chris Kraus and In One Person by John Irving. Artists like David Wojnarowicz tie so many things together. My mind has always worked in a language of synchronicity and probability and chance and myth. Things like Baseball statistics have always been incredibly meaningful to me. And the way David Wojnarowicz ties things like country music to masculine queerness really made me feel validated as a thinker for the first time in my life.

And during times when I really thought my writing was over and out, especially in late 2012 and late 2013, watching Are You Afraid of the Dark and some of John Carpenter’s films like They Live and Prince of Darkness really helped get my mind and heart together again. The same with 1931’s Frankenstein. I watched that film over and over as a child. But when I watched it during the fall of 2014 it was like seeing it for the first time. Boris Karloff’s performance is just something special. His unhinged screams during the fire at the end of the film really effected me in a profound way. You can watch that film alongside reading Chris Kraus’ novel, Summer of Hate, and learn a lot about violence in our society.

So yeah, the obsessions and concerns in my work now are very much reflected in my obsessions and concerns as a five year old.

8. Who of today’s writers do you admire the most and why?

There are so many! I think more than anyone, my favorite contemporary writers are Ariel Gore, Tiffany Scandal, Erika T. Wurth, Juliet Cook, Leza Cantoral, Christine M. Hopkins, Kristen J. Sollee, Joanna C. Valente, Nadia Gerassimenko, Juliet Escoria, Ingrid M. Calderon-Collins, Monqiue Quintana, I could go on forever.

Helen Oyeyemi is a genius. Sybil Lamb is a genius. Patrisse Khan-Cullors is a genius.

I also like Koji Suzuki’s novels. Edward Frenkel is another favorite. Karyn Crisis is writing and publishing a series on traditional Italian witchcraft that is excellent. And I do enjoy Haruki Murakami as well. Marisha Pessl is another favorite.

More than anything, I love how publishing is changing. Ebooks and audiobooks and the Internet are opening up so much to so many people. You no longer need to live in New York City or go to college to have access to a life in literature.

Technology is making literature accessible and possible for disabled persons as well. You don’t need a ton of shelving and space to store your books, you can read / listen while you cook or work or whatever. An average SD card can hold about 5 public libraries worth of books.

In general I just love where contemporary literature is right now and hopefully where it’s heading. Art seems more accessible than it’s ever been.

8.1. Why are they genius?

Helen Oyeyemi’s book, “White is For Witching”, is a novel that is as expertly written as it is affecting. I love books that aren’t fixed. Those Comp 101 tropes of, “Reliable narrator, unreliable narrator,” or, “Now class, to write well, we must first prepare an introductory paragraph with our thesis statement,”

Just turn me off.

I love it when an author jumps deep into the psychic mass of human bodies. The psychic and physical realities of humans don’t correspond at all to those 101 concepts.

And Oyeyemi’s, “White is For Witching,” to me is just about the perfect book. Everything in the narrative is always changing. Every sentence just feels so profound and impactful. It really challenges the reader to kind of move beyond the literal text and engage with the narrative more with one’s psychic senses or within one’s innermost being.

Sybil Lamb’s book, “I’ve Got a Timebomb”, is a novel that, to me, recalls Kathy Acker’s non-linear style. But Sybil’s novel specifically frames Acker’s queer, disjointed virtuosity within a transgender, W. Bush era framework.

As with Oyeyemi’s, “White is For Witching,” its rather difficult to get a sense of what’s happening, sentence to sentence. And that forces the reader to both rely on the depth of the language itself and also on their own psychic ability to sense what is happening. And as the novels continue, they each create such a powerful impact and resonance within the reader. Or at least they did with me. They changed my fucking life.

And Patrisse Khan-Cullors book, “When They Call You a Terrorist,” is one of the most profound works I’ve ever read. It’s in part memoir and part contemporary history. I think if someone was only going to read one book published in the 2010’s, “When They Call You a Terrorist,” is a book that person should choose.

I think for a lot of white people in the United States, we really ignore what’s going on around us. We don’t confront our white privilege. We don’t confront that our white privilege is sustained by institutional racism. We don’t confront that horrific violence is forced on people of color.

Throughout her book, Patrisse Khan-Cullors candidly talks about her life and the lives of those around her. And through her writing, she almost kind of gives the reader a choice. By describing the horror and violence of racism, the reader can either choose to be horrified and repent and commit to change or they can continue to block it out.

The narrative also is about the author’s journey as a queer person. She talks about the realities of being queer in highschool and being queer as an adult.

I think, “When They Call You a Terrorist,” is a book that has incredible power. If anyone doubts the ability of literature and narratives to change lives, “When They Call You a Terrorist,” can shake them from that complacency.

9. Why do you write, as opposed to doing anything else?

So, I think for me writing is the most accessible art form. You can do it alone, you don’t have to have a lot of friends or a lot of gear and money and things like that. You don’t have to go buy a guitar and learn how to tune it and replace your strings or learn about what a sine wave and a square wave are and etc etc.

You can go out and read books from your library or find ebooks and audiobooks online and dive in and start getting inspired. Also, libraries carry a ton of ebooks and audiobooks besides physical books. And if there’s something you want that they don’t have, they can almost certainly get it for you.

There’s no equivalent with guitars and drum machines and synthesizers. You kind of have to buy them or maybe at best rent them from a music store. And renting in that context costs money.

But libraries also have laptops you can rent for free and write on. You could base your entire writing career out of a public library if you couldn’t afford books, an internet connection or a computer.

You can just start reading and see what inspires you and go pursue it.

The Internet really helps one connect to other readers and writers and is such an excellent way to find and build communities.

Though, I don’t mean to act like writing is high up on the platonic list of ideal art forms. I live a fairly monastic life and I enjoy that way of living. Writing is a long term game. It takes months and more often than not years to write and draft and edit and revise and get rejected and get rejected and write and revise. It appeals to my temperaments.

And revising is as simple as reading and re-reading, deleting, re-framing, re-stating, seeking clarity and things like that. You don’t have to listen to abunch of audio on abunch of expensive equipment and twist and turn abunch of knobs and worry about re-recording a part or how something’s mixed or anything like that.

10. What would you say to someone who asked you “How do you become a writer?”

More than anything else, one becomes a writer by first reading and then writing and then going back and editing what one has written. The hardest parts about being a writer have more to do with time, money, stress management, real life shit.

When I was living in Iowa City, some of the best advice I got came from reading the memoirs of writers and artists that I admire. Especially Jeanette Winterson and David Lynch and Ann Patchett.

It’s easy to see ourselves as these nobodies and our heroes as deities. But just to share a small part of Jeanette’s story. After she was kicked out of her parents house for being gay, she used to go to the library every day and get books to read. Back then she thought it was required to read every text in alphabetical order, so she started with the first book in the A section and started working her way down the lines.

Eventually a librarian noticed her habits and told her that she can read any book she likes at anytime. That no one is required to only read books in alphabetical order.

I bring this story up because our crisis’ really hurt. When we lose a job, we feel like it’s the end of the world. When we go through a breakup we feel like it’s the end of the world.

And we feel like that because things really fucking hurt.

But one thing we don’t realize sometimes is that our heroes, the pillars of art, have gone through the same things we’ve gone through. David Lynch had to put Eraserhead on hold for more than five years because he was broke. He talks in his memoir, Catching the Big Fish, about going every day to the local Big Boy and drinking a milkshake while he thought about his ideas.

You have to imagine David Lynch not as the creator of Twin Peaks, but as a broke twenty something loser hanging out at the fast food restaurant every afternoon, starring off into space, dreaming about someday making movies.

Professional, capitalist culture teaches us that such dreams are shameful. We’re all taught to laugh and scoff or at best feel sorry for the girl heading out to LA to become an actress or the person living in their parents basement working on their first demo.

The hardest part about being a writer is learning to not give into all of that shame. A lot of people will talk a lot of shit about you. That will only ever increase in its intensity as you publish and do your thing.

Once, I sent a story to a publication and paid 3 dollars to have the editor give me personalized feedback. And this fucking guy sent me his feedback by gleefully ripping my work to shreds, sentence by sentence.

A couple of weeks later, that exact same piece helped me get accepted into a nationally recognized MFA Program with an offer including full funding.

I didn’t accept the offer because I hate college, but that’s a different story.

The point I’m trying to make is that you just have to never give up. Ever.

Read the books that interest you.

When you get an idea for a piece, write it.

And finish it.

No matter what, finish what you start. No matter how hard it is. You can always edit it later.

Then after you finish writing something, read some more books that interest you. Watch films that interest you. Pursue anything that interests you.

And read books that maybe don’t interest you. And read the books that interest the authors you really like. Read people’s bibliographies. Get the books referenced in their research and read them.

And everytime you get an idea, make a note about it. And when you have time, work on it and do the best job you can.

I think doing one’s best is great advice. Whenever you’re writing, just do the best you can. If you don’t have time to write, just make sure you write when you do have time.

Never give up and always do your best.

That’s where editing really comes in. There isn’t a writer that’s ever lived who doesn’t have to revise their work. In the moment, things seem so impossible. Our sentences always feel so bad.

But one thing you’ll notice, if you don’t give up, is that six months or so after you finish a draft, you’ll come back to it and see what you need to change.

And then six months or so after that, you’ll come back to your piece and see more things that you can improve.

Sometimes that six months only takes a few days or a few weeks. Sometimes it might take a few years. Writing can be a very mysterious process.

That’s why no matter what, you should always just do your best each time you’re sitting down to write. Do your best and let the gods sort out the rest.

If you want to go to college to study literature and writing, go for it. If you don’t want to do that, don’t.

If you like workshopping with other people, do it. If you don’t like it, your editors will let you know what you need to change and how to improve your work.

Some of my favorite writers are highschool dropouts and some of my favorite writers have multiple PhDs. The secret to writing is figuring out your own process and investing in it and devoting yourself to the work of reading and writing and editing and revising. And most importantly, the secret to writing is never giving up. Ever.

When people tell you that your work is shit, just move on. Never delete or destroy your own work. Just file it away and revise and edit it later on.

And I think it’s also important to be open to change. Both changes in your style and changes in your methods and changes in what interests and motivates you.

You might find that you start out writing poetry but want to write more fiction. Or you might start out wanting to write scathing, sexy queer non fiction but end up writing high fantasy novels.

Go with your gut.

11. Tell me about the writing projects you have on at the moment.

I’m in the process of finishing up a novel that’s tentatively called, “Like a Razor.” It’s mostly about a young, out of work mathematician dealing with the loss of his primary partner in a polyamorous relationship. There is also a lot of professional wrestling & Satanism related esoterica and mystery involved.

I’m also working on putting together a couple poetry collections. And hopefully also a non-fiction collection dedicated more to examining spirituality and strategies for activism.

And hopefully all of these works will have a soundtrack that I’ve composed and recorded myself.

Thank you so much for this opportunity! I very much appreciate it

Wombwell Rainbow Interviews: Thursday Simpson F WORD WARNING Wombwell Rainbow Interviews I am honoured and privileged that the following writers local, national and international have agreed to be interviewed by me.

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