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fanfics4all · 3 years

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Arranged Marriage

Request: Yes / No

Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Parkinson!Reader

Word count: 2320

Warnings: Nothing I think?

Y/N: Your Name

A/N: Possibly making this into a short series. Bingo card made by @slyttherins

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Masterlist

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

I had a free period and like most I spent it in the Great Hall reading a book. My slightly older sister was sitting with her friends at the other end of the table. They all hated me since I was the complete opposite of Pansy. She was mean, loud, had to be the center of attention, dramatic, and wasn’t incredibly bright. Despite all that I still loved her, even if I was one of her victims. The two of us only shared one thing, our crush on Draco Malfoy. Although she never knew about that and I would never tell her.

I was enjoying my book when a letter landed in front of me. I closed my book and glanced at it confused. My family’s owl sat on the table in front of me. I picked up the letter with my family’s crest stamped in emerald green wax and opened it.

‘Y/N,

Your Mother and I decided to arrange a marriage for you. We are concerned that if you make a decision like this on your own, you will make the wrong decision. It is no secret that we are disappointed in your association choices. Because of that, you are going to marry Draco Malfoy. Next time you return home, you will be engaged. Once you both graduate you will be married and produce heirs for both our households. This is to ensure the blood-line.

~Philip’

I stared at the letter with wide eyes. I glanced over at Draco, who was reading a letter of his own. I turned my attention back to my book and decided to ignore the letter until I returned home.

“What’s in the letter Drakie?” Pansy asked and I rolled my eyes at her horrid nickname for him.

“Nothing, just Father informing me of a dinner party we’ll be having next time I return home.” He answered her. I was surprised he didn’t tell her, or maybe his family didn’t tell him his fate yet…

Later that night, after all classes and dinner had been finished, I was sitting in the corner of the common room working on homework. It was really just me in here, besides a few first years. However, when the door opened and Draco walked in everyone’s eyes were on him.

“Everyone out.” He said and all the first years scurried off to who knows where. I simply stayed in my place, ignoring his command.

“Parkinson.” He said and I glanced up to find him standing in front of me now.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

“I’m sure you got a letter telling you about our situations as well.” He said and I simply nodded. So he did just choose not to tell my sister. Interesting…

“You better not tell anyone about this.” He said and I looked back down at my homework.

“I wasn’t planning on it.” I said, simply.

“Because if you do- wait, what?” He asked, cutting himself off.

“I said I wasn’t planning on it. My Father didn’t tell my sister for a reason and honestly I’d rather her not know until it’s too late. I don’t need her bullying to get any worse, or yours for that matter. So, we can just pretend it isn’t happening until the dinner, then we’ll figure it out from there. I wouldn’t want to stain your reputation you’ve worked so hard to preserve.” I said, not even sparing him a glance. I wanted him to know I didn’t care, even though I was a bit excited to be marrying him.

“Um, right. Well then, till the dinner.” He said and left me to be.

The months leading up to the dinner felt like nothing had changed. I suppose nothing has changed yet. Draco was still a bully along with his friends and I was their helpless victim. My sister still clung to Draco any chance and he was still annoyed by her actions. A very small part of me wanted to rub it in her face that I was the one to be marrying him, but I wasn’t that type of person. When it was finally time to return home for a short time, I spent the whole train ride thinking about the dinner to come. When everyone stepped off the train, Pansy hugged Draco goodbye and then she made her way over to our parents.

“Girls! How has school been?” Mother asked with a smile.

“It’s been alright, that Potter boy is incredibly annoying. Just because he ‘survived’ the Dark Lord’s attack he’s special? He was a bloody baby.” Pansy said, rolling her eyes.

“He doesn’t want the fame.” I said.

“You would know, traitor!” She hissed.

“Enough girls!” Father said and I bowed my head.

“Sorry Father…” I said, even though I never truly did anything wrong I always felt like I needed to apologize constantly.

“There will be no fighting while you are home, is that understood?” He said.

“Yes Father.” We said in unison.

“Good, now let’s go home.” He said.

A few days had gone by and my parents hadn’t mentioned anything about the dinner to me. I was sitting in the den reading, while my Mother was having a cup of tea and my Father was reading the paper.

“Pansy, come down here please!” Father called her.

“Yes?” She asked, walking into the room.

“Aunt Paisley wanted to take you shopping tonight, would you like to go?” He asked.

“Is Y/N coming?” She asked.

“No, just you.” He answered and her eyes lit up.

“Really? Just me and Auntie?” She asked and Father nodded.

“Oh yes! I’d love to go!” She said and rushed upstairs to get ready.

“Hurry dear! Your Aunt is already waiting for you!” Mother called.

“I’ll be finished in a moment!” She called back. Sure enough after ten minus she was back downstairs, dressed to go out. It was the fastest I’ve ever seen her get ready.

“Right, take some floo powder and go to her house, she’s waiting for you there.” Father said and she nodded.

“She said you can stay the night if you’d like.” Mother mentioned.

“Oh yes please!” Pansy said, happily. She gave me a nasty smirk before taking some powder and saying our Aunt’s house. Off she went to have a nice night out with our Aunt.

“Now, you go upstairs and get ready, your Mother picked out a dress for you to wear tonight.” Father said and I looked at my parents confused.

“Ready for what?” I asked.

“The dinner, we’re going to Malfoy Manor.” He answered and I was even more confused.

“Why isn’t Pansy coming?” I asked.

“Because, as much as we love your sister, we don’t want to hear her complain about your engagement for the rest of our lives. So she’ll find out when we’ve already planned the wedding and you two are getting married.” He answered and I couldn’t hold back my smile.

“You’re lucky Draco didn’t tell her when he got his letter.” I said, placing my book on the table and went off to my room. Laying on my bed was a simple emerald green dress, with a slit down the side, and silver accents on both wrists. There were a pair of simple silver heels to match. I smiled at the outfit, it was really quite beautiful. Once I was dressed I did a simple spell to get my hair and makeup perfect.

I walked downstairs and my parents were both ready to go. My Mother offered me her hand which I accepted and the three of us apparated to Malfoy Manor. The sky was already starting to darken, but the sun still peaked out, giving the sky a beautiful painting of pinks, purples, oranges, and yellows. We walked up the steps and my Father knocked on the door. A house-elf answered and I smiled, earring a glare from my Father. I bowed my head, he never liked how well I treated them. He always said those creatures deserve no kindness. I thought differently, house-elves deserved plenty of kindness, after all they’re very helpful. I always snuck into the kitchen at night and had lovely conversations with our house-elves, being careful not to catch the attention of anyone else in the house.

“Mr. Parkinson, Mrs. Parkinson, Miss. Parkinson, please come in.” The little house-elf said.

“Wolkey will inform Master of your arrival.” He said and left to get the Malfoys.

“Ah, Philip, Oliva, Y/N, so glad you could make it.” Lucius said while shaking my Father’s hand.

“What a lovely dress Y/N, don’t you think so Draco.” Narcissa said, gently nudging her son.

“Yes, it’s a very lovely color on you.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Thank you.” I smiled.

The dinner was normal, our parents discussing business relations while Draco and I simply ate. It wasn’t until dinner was cleared and dessert was being served that the atmosphere changed.

“I believe Draco has something to ask you Y/N.” Narcissa said with a smile. Draco cleared his throat and walked over to me on the other side of the table. He gently grabbed my hand and kept his other in his pocket.

“Y/N, we’ve known each other since we were children and you’ve always been such a beauty. We’ve been friends for a while, but now I feel we should be more. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?” He asked. I could tell they weren’t his words, but they still made my heart flutter. Everyone looked at me expectantly, like I could say anything other than yes.

“Yes Draco, I’d love to.” I smiled. Draco smiled and took out a sliver snake ring with a small emerald, the Malfoy family crest engraved on the bottom.

Draco took my hand and placed the ring on my finger.

“Draco, why don’t you take Y/N into the garden, I’m sure she’ll love it.” Narcissa said and Draco nodded. He gently helped me up and led me outside to the porch, looking over the garden.

“That was all my Mother.” He stated as soon as we were away from our families.

“I know.” I smiled at him and he looked at me confused.

“How can you smile in a moment like this? You’re being forced into a marriage.” He asked confused.

“I can tell you Mother picked out all the flowers.” I said, changing the subject. Before he could say anything I walked down the steps into the garden.

“Hey! Wait!” He said and followed after me.

“Will you answer my question?” He said, slightly annoyed.

“Have you ever looked around here and really took notice of the beauty in your backyard?” I asked.

“I’ve looked around here plenty if that’s what you’re asking.” He said, rolling his eyes.

“Oh look, you have some wilting flowers.” I frowned. I kneeled down and cupped the flowers gently.

“What are you doing? You’ll get your dress dirty.” He said, but I ignored him.

“Herbivicus” I whispered and the flowers grew to their original form. I stood up and smiled, glancing at Draco who had a shocked expression on his face.

“Where did you learn that?” He asked.

“A book I read.” I answered.

“You learned that just from a book?” He asked.

“Yes, I have an eidetic memory. I remember everything I’ve read or what people have said to me.” I answered and looked down at my dress. There were some dirt spots, my parents would be upset with me.

“Scourgify” I said and my dress was good as new.

“The reason I can smile about our situation is because I’ll be making my parents proud for the first time since they’ve heard I’m friends with people they call traitors. I love my family, even my sister, shocking as that is, family is important to me and I’d like to make them proud of me. So if marrying you is what it takes then so be it. Perhaps we could even fall in love with each other, or even just be friends.” I finally answered his question.

“You really are quite strange, aren’t you?” He said after a moment.

“I just think on the positive side.” I smiled at him.

“We can’t tell my sister until the very last minute, by the way, my parents don’t want to hear her complaints.” I mentioned and he gave a light chuckle.

“I suppose even they don’t enjoy her company.” He said and I shook my head.

“They love her, but yes, sometimes they don’t enjoy her complaining.” I answered.

“How are you going to explain the ring?” He asked.

“A surprise gift from my Aunt, that’s where Pansy is right now.” I answered and he gave another light chuckle.

“Smart.” He said.

“What if she tries to take it from you?” He asked.

“You know my sister well.” I giggled.

“My Father is going to spell the ring so only you or I can take it off. And if I need to take it off for whatever reason I have a spelled jewelry box, she’ll need my voice, DNA, and wand to get it open.” I answered with a smirk.

“Very smart.” He said, slightly shocked.

“I like to take caution when it comes to my sister. It’s a very beautiful ring, thank you.” I smiled.

“It’s tradition that the Malfoy proposing makes a special ring with the crest engraved on it. My Mother had it made, but asked for my opinion before it was finished.” He said and I smiled at him.

“Still think this is a bad thing?” I asked.

“Suppose there could be worse people to be forced to marry…” He said.

“I’ll take that as a complement.” I said and stared down at the ring that fit perfectly on my finger. This was really happening. I was going to marry Draco Malfoy.

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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

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Oh, The Lies You Tell - Bakugou Katsuki - pt. 1

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: angst, trauma, abuse, betrayal, fluff, slice of life, smut, cursing, manipulation, possible spoilers, physical harm, 18+

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Ep. Warnings: cursing, mentions of abuse and manipulation, slice of life(ish), manga spoilers!!

A/N: Ok so this is just what I daydream about, and since ima tv addict, I’m involving some “Avatar: The Last Airbender” related things, but a little different. This is more of an introduction to our character but I hope you enjoy!

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9

Summary: It’s Y/N’s first day at UA.....as a “former” villain

“Y/N L/N. She’s a new transfer student. Treat her with your respect and do your best to take care of her.” The tired teacher spoke.

“.......Hey. Please treat me well.” The intimidating girl said as she bowed in respect.

Now if you were to see Y/N on the streets as a stranger, you wouldn’t even think she would have this threatening aura. The class agreed. She’s gorgeous. From a far, you would think she’s a sweetheart, But the girl had a cold, calm stare in her E/C eyes. There was actually no way to describe it. It was just chilling to the bone.

Not only that, but it was clear you were a little rebel. Mainly because of the way you decided to change up your uniform. Your sleeves were torn off to make your button up top some sort of tight fitted turtle neck with a tie that was complimenting your busty figure. Especially since it was tightly tucked into your skirt, pressing against your torso instead of loosely sitting in there like the other girls. You also added a small dark brown belt to cover where your skirt and top meet. Your waist gave the perfect show of how curvaceous you truly were. Your thighs were deliciously thick and your ass must’ve been a perfect peach, considering it caused your skirt to seem a little too small for you. Instead of the typical shoes and knee high socks, you opted for thigh high dark brown leather boots that folded at the top to match your belt. No heel though, of course. Gotta keep it casual. You finished off your rebellious look with a pair of black leather fingerless gloves. Do you look like trouble? Yup. Do you look hot as hell though? You bet.

“You may be seated next to Katsuki Bakugou.” Your new teacher spoke. Before anybody else could give an indication of who this “Bakugou” boy was, an electric blonde spoke up.

“Be careful with that one pretty lady, he’s our resident hot head.” The boy spoke while the entire class giggled.

“Shut it dunce face.” Your eyes shifted from one blonde to another. This time with a spiky head of ash blonde hair and piercing red eyes. As you walk towards your new seat, you made eye contact with the spiky blonde, you saw the look on his face. Just like everyone else, a face of fear and shock, except this time the person didn’t know who you were.

Bakugou could definitely say upon first glance, you were definitely something fierce. It threw him off just how powerful your presence was. He quickly turned away as you took your seat.

As class began, everyone had their eyes on Y/N. Some admiring her beauty, others wary of her aura, and some too nervous to mention their newfound fear of her. In the middle of Mr. Aizawa’s boring lecture, a scratch at the door could be heard.

‘A scratch?’ Everyone thought. But Y/N knew exactly who it was.

When Mr. Aizawa went to open the door, in came what appears to be a wolf-dog. Mr. Aizawa seemed to casually accept it and just expected you to explain. He was too tired to deal with this crazy shit.

“Oh..there you are Rumor. Took you long enough to find this place.” The creature, also somehow intimidating, simply just huffed at the girl and layed down next to her seat in between her and Bakugou.

“L/N, please explain to the class why Rumor is here. They clearly seem to be confused.” Y/N looked around the room to see her new classmates staring at her and her furry friend.

“*sigh* he’s my animal companion.” You simply stated. Apparently it didn’t satisfy your peers because a freckled, green haired boy spoke up.

“Animal companion? Like a service dog?” The timid boy asked. You secretly rolled your eyes at the fact you’ll have to answer this question again. That is until Bakugou spoke.

“You damn nerd, if he was a service dog, she woulda said that now, don’t ‘cha think?” ‘Dunce face and a damn nerd huh? Wonder what new nickname this hedgehog will give me.’ Your little quip made you give the smallest smile with a quiet laugh to yourself

What you didnt realize was that during your little moment, Bakugou was watching you the entire time. He fought the blush that was threatening to rise and successfully won. ‘The hell?’ Bakugou thought. Since when did he blush?

“He’s right. Rumor isn’t my service dog, he’s my animal companion. And no, not my pet. He’s more like a close friend. My best friend if anything. He’s also not a dog either, he’s a changeling.” You explained hoping someone else knew what a changeling was. Thankfully, the “damn nerd” did.

“Changeling? I thought they were just a myth.” He said. “What the heck is a changeling, Deku?” You turned and saw it was a girl with a round face and pink cheeks. ‘Deku? How rude’ you thought to yourself.

“Changelings were rumored to be magical like beasts who could take the form of any animal they chose. Those forms could be as real as eagles and bears or as mythical as dragons and unicorns. They could also change the size of their form too. Am I right, L/N?” Deku asked you.

“You’re completely right, Deku.” The green haired boy blushed at his nickname on your tongue. “Rumor can be any creature I command. His wolf-dog form is his casual form though. It’s the form he took at birth I guess.”

“You guess?” Bakugou asked.

“Yes, I guess. I didn’t have Rumor since he was born. I found him while I was on a walk in the forest. We just clicked, and he followed me home. That’s when I discovered his powers and what he was, and seeing that changelings were only rumored to have existed, I thought it would’ve been a fitting name. We’ve been together ever since, and not only does he work as a friend, he’s a fighter too. He’s like a partner to me which is exactly why principle Nezu allowed him to attend UA with me. I guess you could say he’s part of my...uhm..quirk” You thoroughly explained. You couldn’t help it. You loved talking about Rumor. He was your best friend and definitely one of a kind.

Rumor looked up at you and barked. You turned to pet him on the head and gave him a little smile. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by the resident hot head, which once again caused him to fight back a blush. ‘The fuck is going on with me today?’ The blonde thought to himself. Finally satisfied with the answers, the class picked up where they left off and continued to learn about quirks which didn’t seem all that useful to you since....you don’t have one.

——————————————————————————

Later

“Remember, we will all be meeting at gym gamma tomorrow morning, so don’t bother coming to the classroom. Just meet up there with any comfortable gym wear.” Mr. Aizawa said at the end of the day.

“Yes sir!” The class all said. “L/N stay behind, I need to speak to you and Rumor.” The tired teacher said with a yawn.

“Yes sir.” You calmly replied.

As the class gathered their things to leave, some came up to speak to you. First it was Deku and the round faced girl.

“Welcome to UA L/N. My name is Izuku Midoriya!” Deku said.

“Oh my apologies. I thought I heard that your name was Deku.” You said so nonchalantly with your sweet voice.

“Well it’s just a nickname that started up with Kacchan.” The boy was now blushing in slight embarrassment while rubbing the back of his head.

“Kacchan? I’m sorry, I don’t know who that is.” You said.

“Oh right! My bad, Kacchan is Bakugou. It’s a name I gave him during our childhood.” He stated.

“Seems a little mean.” You chuckled

“Yeah but he’s always been like that.” The boy smiled with a small laugh.

“I think I can tell. He must be really nice to Deku and Dunce face.”

You both shared a laugh at your little sarcastic poke at the explosive blonde that the girl was feeling a little left out.

“Anyways, I’m Ochako Uraraka! I was really hoping I could talk to you more but Deku over here can’t seem to keep his mouth shut.” the girl slightly teased.

“Meh. No worries. We’re gonna be stuck together for the next few years. We have plenty of time to get to know each other.” You so kindly spoke as you gathered your stuff.

“Totally! We can-“ Uraraka was cut off by a very handsome two toned boy with a scar. He definitely reminded you of some you knew. You watched as he came up to speak to Midoriya.

“Hey, Midoriya. Did you want to...” you tuned out his conversation. You simply just stared at him in awe. No doubt about it. He was definitely Dabi’s brother. But he was a whole lot more handsome.

The boy caught onto your staring and introduced himself.

“Hello L/N, my name is Shoto Todoroki. You may know me from my father, Endeavor, but I assure you, I’m nothing like him. In fact it’s safe to say I hate him.” He stated ever so calmly. ‘Wow. So blunt. And I guess hating Endeavor runs in the family’

“Hey it’s fine. I get it, daddy issues.” You nervously laughed but this seemed to strike an interest in Todoroki as he seem to have wanted to continue bashing both of your fathers until he was interrupted by Bakugou.

“You’re in my way Icy-hot.” ‘Jeez, another nickname?’ You thought.

“Then move to another side.” Todoroki quickly came back with.

This caused you to now openly give a quiet laugh, you could already tell what kind of relationship those two have. During your small laugh, Bakugou once again caught himself staring, except this time, he was caught. And it was by you.

You both made eye contact once again. As he stared into your E/C colored eyes, and you stared into his rubied gems, you both grew a slight blush on your cheeks and the 3 standing next to you both took notice.

“Hey..” you sweetly said.

“..........hey.” He replied and quickly looked away embarrassed. That peaceful little moment made your heart stir. Something that hasn’t happened in a long time. If felt calming, loving, happy...and weird and confusing. Thankfully, Dunce face came up to flip the switch.

“Wow Kacchaaannn,” the electric blonde said wiggling his brows. “Never seen you blush like that. You got a little crush on the new gir-“

“SHUT UP SPARK PLUG!” Bakugou exclaimed as he quickly made his way out of the classroom.

“Hey why you gotta be so mean all the time man!” Dunce face cried out.

“I SAID SHUT UP” Bakugou screamed from down the hall. ‘Well he certainly is interesting.....and cute’

“Ah jeez, whatever,” the blonde sighed before you seemed to have caught his attention.

“Well hey there pretty lady,” he started “I’m Denki Kaminari and you are one gorgeous girl. And you definitely got a rockin’ bod-“ he was cut off by our scary teacher.

“That’s enough Kaminari, I need to speak to L/N. Now all of you, out.” He commanded.

They all took their leave thinking about how cool and kind you were. Oh how wrong they were. The little act you put up sure was convincible. Hell, the only thing you genuinely meant was that Todoroki and Bakugou were cute and the blush that came up whenever Bakugou stared at you. You still couldn’t explain it but you brushed it off.

When all were gone, you mentally took notes of their names and possible quirks.

Izuku Midoriya. Alias: Damn Nerd and Deku. Quirk: unknown.

Ochako Uraraka. Alias: unknown. Quirk: unknown.

Shoto Todoroki. Alias: Icy-hot. Quirk: possibly related to cold and heat

Denki Kaminari. Alias: Dunce Face and Spark Plug. Quirk: possibly related to electricity

Katsuki Bakugou. Alias: Kacchan. Quirk: unknown

“L/N.” Your teacher snapped you out of your quick thought and got you focused.

“You seemed to be very comfortable with telling them about Rumor.” Mr. Aizawa said with an eyebrow raised.

“Well he is my best friend. I could go on and on about Rumor for hours if people didn’t stop me. And you can’t lie, he is pretty interesting. Especially his fighting style. You would know all about that, wouldn’t you....Eraser Head?” You said with a sinister smile.

You were well aware that Aizawa knew Rumor’s capabilities very well. You were also aware he knew much about yours too. I mean, you both have fought each other before. And one of you almost didn’t make it out alive. Hint hint, it wasn’t you.

“You are to address me as Aizawa Sensei or Mr. Aizawa, Titania.” He sternly said.

“Ouch, the villain name? I thought the past was the past. There’s a good inside me, dont you remember? You were the one who said it after all. You were even the one who recommended an S-Class villain like me should join UA.” You snidely replied.

*flashback*

As you fought against the skilled pro, you could tell he was getting weaker and weaker by the second. You used your air bending to push him back, crushing him into the wall, and keep him far away. Before you could send Rumor in to finish the job, a hand on your shoulder stopped you.

“Kurogiri? What are you doing here?” You stopped fighting and quickly turned to your superior in a fearful and shaky manner. Although you were much stronger than him and could easily take him down, you knew better. Your mind had already been so manipulated into thinking you were the weakest villain in the league, when it reality, you were strong enough to take down Shigaraki in a snap...but you didn’t need to know that.

Eraser Head, too tired and beaten to even pick himself up off the ground watched the interaction from the distance.

“You were told to collect intel, not fight a pro.” The black fog stated.

“Well yes, but he tried to stop me an-“ he silenced you with a smack to the face. Kurogiri was a respectful man...in ways...but he was just following orders on how to treat Y/N.

“If he tried to stop you, you run away.” He said, matter of factly.

“But he-“ once again, he cut you off but this time with a louder voice.

“But nothing! You were to gather intel and report back to base. Not fight. If you got into trouble, you are to run away, and use your bending and Rumor as assistance.” He stated.

“Yes sir. I’m sorry sir.” You said with your head bowed down in dishonor.

Aizawa could already tell from afar how controlled you were. In past fights, he’s noticed how you were so quick to succumb to any villain in the league, and you were always so willing to go back to them no matter how many times you could’ve ran away on your own. It was like they had something you needed, or more so it was them that you needed. For survival, perhaps?

“Did you even gather the information we needed?” Kurogiri asked.

Your silence gave him all the answers he needed. With a disappointing glare he reached for you, when you flinched at just the slighted movement, Aizawa knew something was wrong. Yes you were a villain, but it was clear you were also a manipulated child. So he acted quick, and attacked Kurogiri, knocking him out, and grabbed you. Before you both took off, you threw one of your earrings at kurorgiri’s unconscious body, knowing he’ll know what to do once he sees it. As he ran with you, he took notice of the animal behind him that followed you. When he finally landed on a cliff hanging over the city, he placed you down to sit on the grass and looked at you before speaking.

“I can see it. All of it. They’re controlling you aren’t they?” The pro-hero spoke.

“Excuse me? Nobody is controlling anybody! I choose to follow orders!” You yelled as Rumor came up to you.

“What is that thing?” Aizawa asked.

“He’s my friend and you won’t harm him!” You said while grabbing onto Rumor.

The pro took note of that word you used. Friend. Villains don’t have friends, they don’t have anybody but goons and partners in crime. Literally. You were definitely different compared to these other villains.

“I have no intentions on harming you or your friend.” The pro spoke.

“So what do you want with me.”

“....Simple. I want you to go to school, live in the dorm rooms, eat good food, train more to become better as a person and fighter, and make more friends. I see a good in you Titania, you deserve a good life. Not one controlled by villains where you do their bidding for what? Survival?” Aizawa said as he crossed his arms while looking at you.

You were in shock. He was able to figure you out. Well, he figured out why you were with the league. Survival. But it doesn’t matter, you were so brainwashed that you were convinced anyone outside the league wanted to kill you...at least that’s what the LOV told you.

“I don’t want to go to school, I want to go back home to the league.” You said while looking down and holding onto your furry friend.

“Home? UA could give you a better home.”

You looked up in shocked at his words. He wanted you to attend school at UA? You know that place. That’s the one place where the league has been so invested in ever since All Might joined the staff there. Suddenly, an idea came into thought. You knew exactly how you were gonna get into the league’s good graces and out of the cold shadow.

“UA?....That’s where you want me to go? How the hell am I supposed to get in there? I’m a known villain genius.” You sarcastically said.

“A villain hidden behind a full face mask. People don’t know your true identity, and did you ever think that maybe the league wants it that way?” He said

“Are you saying you know who I truly am?” You questioned him.

“No, but that doesn’t matter right now. If you want to go to UA, I can help you. I’m a teacher there and I can put in a good word for you. Sure it will take a lot of convincing but I’m willing to do it. Using UA as a reformatory program for you could be benefitting you in more ways than one. So if going to UA is what you really want, I’m more than happy to help you Titania.”

You couldn’t believe it. Your heart was so excited. You were finally going to get away from this horrible life of crime and killing. Away from the abuse and blood. Away from the league. But your brain was telling you to deny it all. You were safer with the league, everyone is out to get you, and you will die without the villains help. But a bark broke you out of thought.

You turned to your side to see what seems to be a smile on Rumor’s face. He was wagging his tail and sticking his tongue out while giving you puppy dog eyes. It appears he knew what was going on and he seemed excited. For your best friend, the world. So you gave in...happily.

“Y/N.” You said while getting up off the ground.

“Huh?” The pro spoke.

“My name is Y/N L/N, and I’d be happy to join UA.” You said with a smile and tears of joy filling you eyes. Rumor happily barked at the pro as well.

“Well alright then,” the pro said sticking out his hand for you to shake, “Y/N L/N, welcome to UA.”

As you shook his hand your smile held a thousand words. Happiness, excitement, villainy, and sin. Sure you were going to benefit yourself, but you were also going to benefit the league.

*Present Time*

“I was hoping I’d get more respect from you considering I was the one who got you into UA,” Aizawa tiredly said while turning his head towards the ceiling and crossing his arms. “But I guess that mischief and attitude just comes with the deal.”

“Correct.” You simply said.

“So are you willing to tell them what your “quirk” is? You seemed so open about Rumor, I thought your powers would be the same.” Aizawa pressed on.

“Not sure yet. I only just met the students. They seem nice.” You said while looking at your now very interesting shoes.

“They’re a crazy bunch, but they’re incredible friends. They could be great friends to you too Y/N.” You looked back up at him with hope, but quickly remembered why you were there in the first place.

The teacher took noticed of this and continued. “Either way, they’ll have to see what you got tomorrow. In gym gamma we’ll be doing some sparring including our quirks, so you’ll have to show them all that you can do.” He said.

He saw how that made you nervous. Not because you were scared to speak about or show your abilities, but because you knew you would be hit with thousands of questions. Oh how annoyed you must be.

“Understood.” You said to him as if you were a soldier. He won’t get used to that. He’ll have to make sure you know it’s ok to speak to people as..well people, and not like everyone is your superior.

“Good,” he began to walk to his yellow sleeping bag to pick it up, “now head to the front of the school. I left an escort for you to help guide you to your dorm room. That person will also be a guide in all things UA for you so be nice. You’ll be stuck with them for awhile. That is all, you can go now.”

As you and Rumor made your way to the front, you had so many questions going on in your mind. Should you make new friends or keep them at a distance? Should you completely drop the league and join UA? Should you blow your cover and expose why your truly there? What to do, what to do.

When you made it to the front, you finally saw your escort, and you couldn’t help but give a little smirk.

“Hey..”

A/N: If y’all wanna see the clothes that inspired Y/N’s uniform, check this out!!!

A/N: Damn guys, I know I’ve only just started writing but this is kinda the story I imagine in my mind at night. So I thought it would be fun to give it to reality. So here’s my first FanFic😅 hopefully it doesn’t turn out too terrible, but I promise to work on my skills and improve. Also, if you need a reference to what Y/N’s uniform looks like, search up “Akame from Akame Ga Kill.” That’s the look that heavily inspired Y/N’s new uniform. And if you’re confused on what the boots look like, search up “Lucy Heartfilia thigh high boots,” bc those are the EXACT boots I imagine on Y/N except in a darker brunette color to match the belt. Once again, NOT spell checked so my apologies for any mistakes. I hope you enjoyed pt. 1! And if this goes well, tell me if you’d like a pt. 2! I love to hear feedback! Thx <3

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jaedreaminn · 3 years

Text

I'll wait for you to like me

Pairings: Mark x Reader «past» Jeno x reader.

Characters: Mark, Jeno, Donghyuck (Haechan), Ten «hinted» Jisung, Chenle, Jaemin.

Theme: fluff, confusion, angst(but not really), open ending, happy, playful.

Word count: 1.6k

~~~

Mark knew he was the wallflower among his brothers. While his brothers played with people's hearts he studied. While his brothers fooled around he worked hard. While his brothers stole people's hearts to only break them he broke hearts through rejections.

He never messed around, always had good grades and his only friend was his half brother Donghyuck but not by choice, the youger just latched himself onto Mark the first time Mark spoke.

Mark liked his reputation of the heartless and cold brother. He liked being the most mysterious among his brothers. He liked keeping to himself. He liked his personal space. He looed music. He like how he was very sure of what he liked. And he knew for sure that he liked you.

But you liked Jeno....

So he kept his distance and watched from the side lines. He watched how Jeno tried to gain your trust and felt a pang in his heart when you trusted the boy. He watched how you agreed to dating Jeno and he watched how you slowly fell in love with his brother. His gut twisting in longing and jealousy.

He watched sadly the day Jeno broke your heart. And never in his life did he want to punch someone so bad, let alone the person he wanted to punch being his own brother but yet he didn't because he watched how Jeno loved you back but the moment things got a bit to real for his liking he spiralled and hurt you in the process.

He watched how Jeno would look at you so fondly and after you broke up he would secretly stare at you longingly when no one was watching. How he would constantly deny his feelings for you because his friends thought that it was uncool. How he said awful things about you to his awful friends that led him astray. He hated that he had to watch Jeno lose himself.

...

"You're the only other person here?" You had startled him one day as you leaned over his desk in the news room.

He blinked once to make sure he wasn't hallucinating before nodding, "Yes I run the school news paper"

You tilted you head to the side face scrunching cutely in confusion.

"I get the work done and quite perfectly at that so the school allows me to run it alone." Mark explained and felt lighthead when you smiled at him.

"Why are you here" he blurted out coldly before you could notice the change in his face from how much blood was travelling to it.

"Well I'm going to run the newspaper with you." You casually said. Cultural shock. That's what he went through that day.

And so before he knew it, it became a new norm to spend his afternoons with you in that small cramped up room with two desks and a printer.

And for once he wasn't just watching you, he was talking to you, laughing with you, working with you and getting into petty arguments with you which would just end with Mark being all red and flustered and you giggling away. And suddenly he knew he liked you even more. And maybe he wasn't the only one that knew that little fact. And that was a problem.

It happened on one of the monthly Sunday morning family breakfasts when Mr.Lee kept picking at Tens choice for the next step in the family business which included his lover so Ten, much to Mark's dismay changed the topic, "So Mark I heard you've been having fun at school these days?" His second eldest brother teased, wiggling his brows.

Mr. Lee's cocked an eyebrow at that piece of information but Mark simply hummed and got back to eating, enjoying his peace.

But when your brother's with Lee Donhyuck peace didn't come easy.

"Oh yes he has" the boy said and Mark looked at him confused, "He's been enjoying his time with y/n working for the school newspaper together"

Mark cursed in his head, side eyeing Jeno who seemed to freeze at your name expression cold.

"Yes it's nice to have company" Mark mumbled as the topic changed yet again to something about the trouble Haechans been causing.

...

Mark watched how Jeno distanced himself from him and how his brother who was usually sweet eye smiles and mischievous laughs was now curt nodds and cold eyes.

The one thing he knew he hated was fighting with his brothers. And even though him and Jeno weren't really fighting they weren't talking to eachother either.

His mood changed drastically, sullen at the change in attitude from his younger brother but he doubts anybody would have noticed.

That's why he was shocked when you placed a cup of boba milk tea on his desk saying "because you were sad and needed cheering up" before scrunching your nose cutely and adding "and because you're the only weirdo that doesn't like coffee"

And he looked at you in awe, mouth sliglty agape and you chuckled leaning down and closing it for him as he startled at the contact recalling behind a bit.

"So Markie boy what's got you so worried" you asked sitting yourself down on his desk as he flushed over the nickname.

"My brother" he said hesitantly and saw your face harden, he knew you knew of his relation to your ex but you guys never spoke about it.

"What happened" you still asked him, expression neutral.

"Just a little confusing times between us so there's a cold war going on" he said with a defeated sigh and your lips curved downwards.

"I've see how close you are to your brothers' and how much you care for them" you said and Mark was surprised you knew that, "Whatever it is it's going to pass. After all you guys are the infamous Lee brother's. A family of old money where the brothers dont hate eachother" you joked without knowing how true and rare that was and how much he cherished that fact. Especially since all his father wanted them to do was to get 'ambitious' and steal the buisness back from Ten.

So Mark had decided that very day to confront Jeno after school, waiting patiently at his brothers car.

"You're here to talk I'm guessing?" Jeno voice called out and Mark turned around to see him walking towards the car with a friend's Mark didn't recognise, a really tall boy with pink hair, a short one with orange hair and one Jenos height with blond hair and a blue fringe.

Jeno waved goodbye to the boys as he seperated ways from them and approached Mark.

"Who are they?" Mark couldn't help but ask.

"They're from the dance team." Jeno replied not looking at his brother at all.

"You've been avoiding me" Mark accused angry that the boy coildnt even look at him now and Jeno nodded, "You're right"

"Why" Mark asked with a frown.

"Well..."

"It's because of y/n isn't it?" Mark cut Jeno off, "If your uncomfortable with me working on the newspaper with y/n then I can-"

"Can what?" Jeno laughed catching Mark off guard, "Can quit? And then what let the newspaper die with you? I actually enjoy reading those." Jeno smiled at Mark who just stood there dumbfounded.

"Look I was being petty, I broke up with y/n ages ago. If you have feelings for y/n then go for it, I shouldn't hold you back" Jeno said with a sad smile.

"But don't you like..."

"I do. But I was dumb and now I'm too late so go shoot your shot" Jeno said with a pat on Marks back and smiled sadly as he watched his brother run off to meet you. Maybe he'll get over you if dating you makes his quite and overworking brother happy and atleast a little carefree.

"Y/N!" Mark called out as he ran towards you, starteling you.

"Go out with me" he blurted as soon as he was infront of you and your eyes widened but a frown made its way to your face soon after.

"Is this some joke?" You asked angrily and Mark seemed genuinely confused.

"Look I thought you were nice but now you're trying to pull the same stunt Jeno did?" You yelled and Mark looked taken back.

"W-what no. I would never!" he replied immediately.

"I want to believe that's true but it probably isn't" you said as your eyes slowly started to glisten. "Is this funny to you Mark?"

"What? No! No y/n I really like you, have liked you way before Jeno did I swear this isn't a game" he said quickly, holding onto your hand in hopes of conveying his sincerity. But it only made you more doubtful.

"Even if it was true Mark I d-dont want to like anyone again for a while" you said tone sad and Mark felt bad, maybe he didn't think this through.

"I'll wait then" it was your turn to look confused

"Then I'll wait for you to be ready to like someone again."

You sighed but the gesture seemed so sweet and from what you knew from the little time you spent with him in that small room daily was that Mark wasn't a good liar, "It may take a long while and I might not even end up liking you. You think you're okay with that?"

Mark eyes sparkled with something unreadable but it was definitely something good. He nodded his head, determined, "No matter how long and with how little hope I have, I'll wait for you to like me."

~~~

Lee brother's- A mini series

Previous part: Lee Taeyong

Next part: Ten Lee

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duphyduphy · 3 years

Text

"Angel"

Summary: Childe's usually outgoing and bright persona was oddly muted that day, enough for Lumine to notice. Maybe that's why he got so recklessly injured while he was helping with her with her commissions. Lumine takes him to her teapot to nurse him back to health, but the two realized something during a peculiar conversation they had after Childe regained consciousness.

This chilumi fic was inspired by the recent housing system update in 1.5! Enjoy!

Childe was feeling a bit hazed. His usually outgoing and bright persona was oddly a little muted that day, enough for Lumine and Paimon to notice. He was less talkative and seemed tired for some reason. He didn't even pry her about having their usual sparing matches like he usually does, which she found to be out of character for him. Maybe that's why he got so recklessly injured while he was helping with her with her commissions.

"Argh!", the traveller and her flying companion heard from a distance.

Lumine turned around to see Childe getting struck by one of the Mitachurl from the back as he was fighting off another Hilichurl.

"What's wrong with him today? That was just a Mitachurl. Those guys are big but we fight them with ease all the time. Is he injured or something? Is he distracted?", Lumine thought to herself as she ran towards his direction to help him. Her pace sped up when she saw him fell to the ground.

"CHILDE!"

His vision went black.

***

"Ow... my head hurts"

Childe slowly opened his eyes to find himself in what seems to be a bedroom.

"Where-where am I? Was I knocked out?"

"Hey... you're awake" a soft, almost melodic voice spoke to him.

Still half awake, Childe blinked a few times and turned his head toward the source of the sound to find out that it was coming from Lumine. She was sitting on a chair beside the bed he was laying on. Her hand rested on top of his own, gently stroking his bruised knuckles. Her face worried yet relieved. Her expression was accompanied by a small smile. He would never say it out loud, but he always did found her to be very beautiful. He's sure many men thought about the same thing when they saw the infamous Honorary Knight. What most men didn't see though, was his comrade in action, in the battle field. He still remembers their time in the Golden House, how almost marvelous she looked as she showed him her capabilities. She was definitely powerful, astonishing nonetheless. He also feels some sense of guilt whenever he thinks about that time. She was just a pawn to him then, but now, she was becoming someone more. Even Childe himself has yet to understand this strange feeling. Sometimes he thinks it's distracting. Sometimes he wonders if she thought the same way. In other time, he wonders if she still wants to trust him after what happened.

"Childe? Is your head still hurting?", Lumine asked as she leaned in to place her hand on his head, which he later realized, was wrapped in bandaged.

Snapping back to reality, Childe's face gleamed a dim sheen of pink to the sudden close proximity of the two. Still collecting his consciousness, he looked around and realized that his chest and stomach area was bandaged. He wasn't wearing his shirt either.

"Did- did you take of my shirt?"

"I- WE- WE HAD TO PATCH YOU UP SOMEHOW!! YOU- YOU WERE BLEEDING OUT! I DON'T KNOW WHY YOU WERE SO DISTRACTED TODAY!!!", Lumine said in a slight panic.

"Calm down! Haha! You're always so easy to fluster", Childe said with a coy smile.

"Ugh. I was really worried when you collapsed like that you know... You did seem really tired and you didn't talk much today either but I didn't expect you to get knocked out like that."

"Aw... did you really think I would be so easily defeated by a mere Mitachurl. I'm a Fatui Harbinger, girlie", Childe smirked with cocky tone.

"And yet, here you are. Well, YOUR WELCOME for caring and patching you up, Mr. Fatui", Lumine said, rolling her eyes while letting go of his hand.

"Wait~"

Before Lumine's hand could move further away, he gently took hers in his.

"I'm sorry I worried you. I guess work got a little tiring and I didn't get enough sleep for the past couple of nights so, I guess I was a little drained. Regardless, thank you for patching me up, Lumine"

Childe has a plentiful amount of nicknames he gave Lumine. Whether it be girlie, traveller, Honorary Knight, comrade, or princess, but rarely does he ever call her by her real name. She blushed to the sudden change in how he addressed her. She found it to be almost sincere and genuine. It made her blush, but she turned her head around so that Childe wouldn't notice. Unfortunately for her, he did notice and took pride in how he's able to form that reaction out of his dear traveller. He always found teasing her quite enjoyable and entertaining.

"Hmph. You're lucky me and Paimon were there with you when you collapsed. Who knows what would have happened if we weren't. Paimon litterally had to drag your body to safety while I dealt with the remaining Hilichurls and Mitachurls"

Lumine always did possess a caring and nurturing personality. Why else would she go out of her way to bring him to her home to treat and care for his wounds personally instead of taking him to Bubu Pharmacy.

"She's just caring. If anyone were in my place, she would do the same thing. There shouldn't be any other reason to this", at least, that was what Childe thought.

"Yes, yes. I'm the luckiest man in the world. I like what you did to the place by the way. Last time I was here, there was nothing but a bed. Not to mention it not matching the interior of the house at all"

"Childe. Are you trying to kick yourself out?"

Her reaction made him laugh out loud with such satisfaction which eventually made her laugh as well.

"Anyways, that Mitachurl beat you up pretty badly. I suggest you stay here for the night to rest. I don't mind really. Plus, you said you haven't been getting enough sleep so... actually why are you loosing sleep anyway? Is work hectic at the moment? I don't know what goes on in the Fatui so uh-"

"About that, uh... work is fine, I guess. I've just been thinking about some things"

"Is... everything okay? What's been on your mind?"

"What ever may I be thinking about that made loose sleep, hm~? Who knows? Maybe it's because of someone I've been thinking a lot about. Maybe it's not~" Childe said as he gave her a smirk.

Childe expected Lumine to get annoyed, maybe even a little curios at his statement. Admittedly, that was his way of hinting his attraction towards her, but he just wanted to play safe and see her reaction. And indeed it was unexpected.

"Is- is that so? We-Well...", Lumine said quietly with a very noticeable red tint on her face.

There was a long silence for a good seven seconds. You could almost here the crickets.

"Shit. Why did things become awkward. I was just teasing her. Does she maybe like me back or is she just flustered-"

"ANYWAY! I'LL-I'll get you some fo-food! Stay here. I'll be back haha... Don't move around too much!", Lumine said frantically as she quickly stood up from her chair and left the room.

Childe gave out a big sigh.

"This is not good. Whatever! I'm pretty sure it's nothing. Ugh, I feel like a school boy having his first crush. Pathetic"

Childe tried to forget the awkward moment they had just a few minutes ago by looking around the room. She really did do a lot to the place. It was nicely furnished. He looked at his side and noticed something at the bedside table. It was an Aster flower placed inside a vase. It was the flower he gave to her during the Windblume festival out of coincidence. Some memories flashed back to his head that made his face softened.

"What an angel", Childe softly said to himself.

Lumine accidentally heard him from outside the room just as she was about to bring him his food.

Just something in my head that I could not bother to illustrate with art so here's a fic instead. i hope you enjoyed my chilumi offering for the day. Smirks and blushes. I think you can tell I like those quite a lot. Teasing. Teasing galore.

#chilumi #childe x lumine #childe #lumine #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact fluff #1.5 update

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oftenderweapons · 4 years

Text

Love talk - Yoongi

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (nicknamed Kitten)

Wordcount: 10k words

Genre: fluff, smut

Rating: 18+

Hello bunnies! I know you’ve been streaming Dynamite (I’m doing so as I revise and edit). I decided to postpone publishing the piece, so that we can focus on streaming and then as soon as the 24h are over and you’re well-rested you’re hopefully all ready for this 😏

Basically, I’ll do a quick recap of Yoongi and Kitten’s sliver of backstory. They’ve been dating for a couple months on again off again (he’s quite busy with schedule) and have been on several dates, however the situation escalates when the two start playing a steamy late-night after-date 20 questions game.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Consumption of alcohol. Swearing. This is smutty, especially in the end. This is intended for an adult public. Some of the themes are only discussed by the characters. Strong language, alcohol consumption, masturbation both male and female receiving, same for oral (feat. face riding). Mild voyeurism/exhibitionism, quite detailed description of sexual positions and fantasies, discussion on STDs, mentions of previous relationships and past traumas (abusive boyfriend and one very sorry fuck). Choking, breast worship, mentions of restrictions, sensation play and switch Yoongi. This should be all. Also, watch Kitten thirst for Yoongi’s hands (and tongue. and lips. and all the rest of Yoongi) for 10k words. (On a second note, watch Yoongi drool -- only metaphorically, much to his dismay -- over Kitten’s tits).

Yeah, it’s date 10 and these two haven’t kissed yet, I somehow think that Yoongi is the kind of guy who would wait till he’s dying and then just pounce. Also these two just want to jump each other’s bones and I can’t wait for you to see them in Illicit Affairs (definitely my 2nd favourite couple -- ‘cause Joon will be A Lot™)

Wordcount is around 10k.

Since I need to start planning next scenarios, I need you to help me choose the theme, you can vote at the link in my bio!

Here is my masterlist, enjoy 💜

“God, what’s with the weather tonight?”

“Man, this is a nightmare, get in quick.” The arm around your shoulder loosened a little as he let you move quickly from under his umbrella to the passenger seat of his car. As you got comfortable and tried to fix your hair and makeup a little, he walked around the car, opening the driver’s door, sliding in quickly and, with a sleight of hand, shaking the umbrella, closing it and smashing the door shut as fast as possible.

“Damn it.” He moved the soaked object at the foot of the backseat, stretching in the process with a groan.

You set with your hands pressed together, shoved innocently between your thighs.

This was your tenth date with Yoongi and you were smitten over him. Also, horny, but that’s for another moment. You’d been dating without commitment for about two months, the timing absolutely awful – he was in the middle of promotion with the group – but he had been too hung up on you to wait. He had wanted to do things properly, but after two weeks of stalking your profiles on social networks and making a fool of himself anytime you accidentally met, he decided he needed to act, and quickly so.

You went for a coffee once, then he brought you lunch, then you started with your sneaky dates at the cinema, walks at Han river late at night and dark and discreet bars dominating the rooftops of Seoul.

But the cinema was your most recurrent. You were just back from one of your dates at your go-to theatre, at two a.m, the late night show allowing him enough privacy to sneak around and protect you from any prying eyes.

He started the car and asked if you needed the AC on. “You have goosebumps on your arms.” He commented.

He is attentive. And caring. Which really makes you want to jump him. But again, digressing.

“No, thank you, Yoongi.” You replied kindly.

“Okay.” Moving out of the parking lot he started driving to your house, stopping at a couple traffic lights, looking at you as he waited. You looked back at him, smiling affectionately. He took your hand, holding it and warming it up in between his.

“Who would believe it’s September, it feels at least November out there.” You commented, feeling extremely dumb in discussing the weather, but too afraid of letting your mind delve in more mature or appropriate topics.

“Sure you’re okay?” He asked, as he placed your hand back, the lights turning green.

“Yeah.” You risked evaporation, looking at his focused expression as he drove. Could you believe he hadn’t kissed you yet? No. Could you imagine why he hadn’t done that yet? Hell, no. You had squeezed your brains trying to imagine why he hadn’t kissed you while at the same time keeping on asking you out, date after date.

The night lights reflected beautifully on his delicate features, on his cute nose and his round and soft cheekbones, on his pouty, blatantly soft, deliriously pink, wildly wanted lips, on his flashy silver watch, on his sparkly, delicate necklace, on his small and sober earrings. You wanted him. Your heart skipped a beat at the way your body and mind aligned in that statement. The pressure you felt within you was a living, beating, ravenous thing, enlarging its size like a bird puffing its feathers.

His hands on the wheel were extraordinarily pale and sturdy, skeletrical but also undoubtedly strong. You wanted them on you, grabbing and groping your flesh. And the way he seemed to chew on his lower lip, opening and closing his mouth in that gesture which is so his, as if he were tasting wine or coffee.

You didn’t even realise you had arrived at your place, since you were so caught in staring at him. “A picture will last longer, Kitten.” He teased.

You blushed, turning quickly to look out your window.

“Oh, you’re shy now...” He smirked. “Go figure, I had a proposition for you.” He commented, almost with disinterest, his mouth speaking through a fake pout, the corners of it turned downward.

“I’m curious.” You said, turning to him.

“I don’t wanna let go of you yet.” He admitted, catching your hand again. “I’ll be away for ten days. With the guys. We’re leaving tomorrow evening.” He explained. “Tonight is my last available moment with you and I know it’s two in the morning and all the rest, but I want to spend more time with you.”

You raised your eyebrows, surprised. “Do you mean…?” You hoped he had somehow sensed your longing. He seemed to have a direct line to your brain, reading you in a way that scared you too often.

He grinned. “I mean, whatever comes from this. Just talking. Just watching you as we talk. It’s not the same over the phone.” He said with a frown.

You nodded. “Do you wanna talk here? Would you like to come upstairs?” You asked, trying to feel the mood.

He bit his lip and laced his fingers together, placing them between his knees and hunching his back. “You see, I kinda wanted to take this to my place. But I promise you I won’t make a move. It’s really just talking.”

Please, do make a move. You silently begged – although you were too shy to actually speak.

“Yeah, nice. Okay.” You replied with a happy smile.

“It’s okay if you want to stay here. Or go upstairs. It’s just that I really wanted to see you at home.”

The tenderness of his domesticity killed that hunger rumbling in your insides and made your head float up high, with cute pink clouds and angels singing and stars glimmering.

This is a crush.

“Show me your crib, kitty cat.” You joked. He laughed adorably at that. He looked radiant.

As he started driving to his place you got back to your thirsting over him, this time openly oogling at his confident charm, at the way he looked so used to all of this. The way he lead you out of the car in the underground parking lot of the residence, the way he locked the car and punched in his passcode to the apartment.

“Here’s the crib, kitty cat.” He taunted right back.

The place looked immaculate. Spot on. Tidy. Neat. A bit cold but his. And it smelled so good. Like cinnamon and fir. Like a cosy, winter cabin. You wanted a blanket and a hot chocolate and a Christmas tree. You wanted him in an ugly turtleneck jumper and flannel sweats and furry slippers.

You wanted home.

“It feels very nice in here, Yoongi.” You couldn’t stop looking around, drinking in every small detail. You understood why he had wanted you here. He wanted to see if you could fit here.

He noticed you did.

“I got these, for you.” He said, offering you a pair of slippers, gesturing for you to take off your shoes as he did the same. He didn’t need to ask twice.

He led you through a quick tour of the house, moving quickly away from his most private places – the bedroom and the studio. You understood his reserve on those, giving his hand a quick squeeze in understanding.

“Finally, the living room.” He explained as he switched on the lights illuminating a large space with a thick cream carpet covering the cold white marble, the room completely dominated by a black leather couch. It looked very traditional and “grandpa”. It really resembled him. “Might as well settle in, we’re gonna be here for a while. Want to drink something?” He asked.

You. “What do you have in mind?” You asked, shutting up your inner slut.

“Well, I was thinking I wanted to do that ‘get-to-know-each-other’ kind of thing.” He said, opening a cabinet in the console under the gigantic tv. In the meantime ha started a slow rap playlist from his phone. “I know this will sound like usual fuckboy who’s trying to make a move, but I have no intention of getting you drunk. I’ll drink, and I promise I’ll be perfectly responsible for my actions, but you don’t have to drink or do anything you don’t want to.” He said, putting some whisky on the coffee table together with two tumblers.

However, you opened the bottle and poured some alcohol first in his glass and then in yours. “Now it’s me the one with a proposition, mr. Min.” You cocked your head playfully. “We play twenty questions. In turns we will ask twenty questions to each other. If you don’t want to answer you pass and drink.” You explained quickly.

“Okay. Let’s get it, Kitten.” He said with a smirk, as both of you sat down at the two sides of the L-shaped sofa, near the corner. “You start, ____.”

“Warm up round, yeah?” You asked.

“Play your advantage carefully.” He suggested.

You nodded, quickly leaving aside dumb and obvious questions, but still going for an innocent one. “How many exes do you have?”

“Okay, nice. Well. I’ve “officially” had three girlfriends and two flings. All the relationships ended because of my job and lifestyle.” He offered you a free piece of information. He didn’t mind anyway. “My turn?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m satisfied.” You replied. “For now.”

He grinned devilishly. “What about your exes?”

You nodded as if expecting the question. “Officially one. It was a long, painful relationship. I’ve had flings though. Maybe eight or nine occasional partners.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Okay. I really didn’t expect that but it’s cool to me.” He said. He really didn’t mind. You’re a woman in her midtwenties, and you have the freedom to do what you want with your body. “Next.”

You looked down and toyed with your fingers, then looked up with a curious smile and gleaming mischief in your eyes. “I’ve gotta ask. When was your first time?”

He smiled. “I was nineteen. I had been dating this girl for a few months. We did it on my birthday. She was two years older than me, showed me the ropes. But even if I really liked her, it all got to hell when we debuted. She was only in it for the fact that I was an idol, she wanted an in, I think. Changed her mind when she realised I was sort of a loser.”

“Well, look at that loser now.” You said, looking him up and down and licking your lip.

He laughed embarrassed.

“I won’t do that mistake.” You promised, this time with a serious expression.

“We’ll see.” He commented, looking you up and down himself. God, he was getting flirty. A pleasured shiver ran down your spine. It wasn’t the cold. “My turn. When did you do it for the first time?”

Again you nodded. “I was with a childhood friend. It wasn’t a relationship. Just, we thought it was a good idea to do that together, because we knew each other and we trusted each other. It was nice. It felt nice. It was the summer after our senior year in high school. He moved out for university afterwards and we lost each other. But it’s a good memory, I must say.” You reminisced fondly. “No unrequited feelings, though.” You clarified, afraid that he would misunderstand.

“Okay. I’m glad it’s a good memory. I was afraid that the painful ex had been your first.” He commented, leaning towards you slightly.

“No, thank fuck.” You muttered. “Let’s move on, yeah?”

He nodded.

“I kinda have to ask this one, out of curiosity and for personal reasons. Have you ever been tested for STDs?”

He blinked and crossed his legs. “I have. It’s part of my medical check-ins. Of course the tests are more for... completeness, so to say, rather than actual need. My sex life is not that active, and when it is, I always use protection. I’m quite obsessed with it, to be honest.” He explained, his defensive stance opening up. He answered thoroughly, not even thinking of how much he was offering freely. “Do you mind me asking the same question?”

“Not at all. I also got tested. After my relationship I had to. My ex wasn’t very faithful.” You replied, blushing. “During all my flings I’ve always used protection except once. I was a bit dumb back then.” You admitted, wincing painfully. “And after my last one I got tested. He didn’t make me feel like a condom was safe enough. Thank God, everything is absolutely fine and I’m clean.”

“Oh, yeah, same here.” He offered back, with a shy laugh. “Ready for question three?”

“Yeah. I’ve got to ask one last question, for my peace of mind. Do you expect monogamy from me?” You asked.

“Do you?” He deflected.

You smiled “I asked you, Yoongi. Do you want me to date you exclusively?”

“Well I do. Do you? Want to date just me? I mean.” He asked.

“Yes, I will date you exclusively if you’re dating me exclusively.” You replied, matter-of-factly.

He shook his head, incredulous. “Of course I’m dating only you.” He murmured with a pout. “Why would I be seeing someone else?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged.

“Well, I’m strictly monogamous, ____. I’m giving you my undivided attention and all my spare time. Don’t you ever doubt my commitment. I don’t cheat.” He seemed almost too serious for a moment.

“I needed to know.”

“It’s okay. But just because you got burned once, that doesn’t mean that everyone wants to burn you, okay? That’s a bastard’s move. I promise you I won’t.” He said. And for the first time you felt like believing in it.

You took a deep breath, then smiled. “Well, anyway, you already asked your question. So it’s my turn again.” You said, cheekily.

He huffed, offended, but let you go on.

“Time to start drinking, Yoongles.” You chanted in a sing-song voice.

He laughed silently. “We’ll see.”

“What’s your favourite position in bed?” You asked, trying to peek into his private life.

“Should I drink? At this? You have to seriously one-up your game, kitten.” He stared at you intently. He was desperately trying to keep a poker face to hide how much he wanted to climb over your body and hide in the crook of your neck, inhale your sweet scent, which was enhanced by the rain that had hit you earlier.

“I’m quite traditional. I like anything that allows me to see the face of my partner. So missionary, cowgirl and lotus. When I’m a bit angsty I go for doggy. Spoons is another one I like – and also an awfully underrated one. My past lovers all said that the angle is amazing. It’s very rewarding.” Again, he gave you more than what you asked for. He wanted you to know these random things about him. He was telling you everything he wanted you to know. Who cares about vulnerability and offering too much? His aim was to earn your trust. And for you to repay his prodigality in kind. He wanted you to open up and overshare things about yourself. He wanted to know what to imagine when he thought about kissing you. When he thought of you while touching himself. He wanted to understand what he could ask, what you could possibly like, what scared you, what you needed comfort in.

At this point you were imagining him behind you, a hand at your waist, the other on your breast, his low moans caressing your ear, eyes closed, lost in bliss. Snap out of it, slut. “Wide choice.” You commented with an awkward chuckle, still trying to get back from your fantasy.

“It really depends on my partner, though. Whatever works for them.” He shrugged, his arms leaning forward, palms up. “My turn, right?” He waited for your confirmation.

“Off you go.”

“What’s your most frequent fantasy?” He muttered, shy but also sultry, his voice a low rumble.

You inhaled deeply, noticing how close he had got to what you were thinking a few seconds ago. “Dammit, I might drink.” You looked at the glass, almost lunging for it. But it was a feint. ”Actually lately I’ve been thinking a lot about having sex in the kitchen.”

Fuck. He was out. He licked his lip. He almost thought you were done with your confession, but you went on.

“Being pushed up against the counter and bent over. Or being lifted up and sat on the counter. Having someone tease me while I’m spread on the table. Or having to keep a straight face while someone is toying with me underneath the table.” You scratched your cheek, “You pick.” You whispered slightly embarrassed, laying your hands on your cheekbones in an attempt to calm down your blush.

He lifted the glass. He needed to calm down.

When you noticed his gesture you sucked your lips in, trying to hide a smug grin.

“Are you proud of getting under my skin, Kitten?” He asked.

“Yes, of course.” You replied immediately.

“Well done, ____.” The way he almost moaned your name made your blood soar to your ear. “Your turn, kitty.”

“Are you more on the dominant or submissive side?” You asked. You honestly couldn’t figure this out. He showed small signs leaning towards both sides. He was traditionally courteous, giving you attention and taking care of you, paying for food and using his body language to show you were taken, that you weren’t hanging out with a friend or a relative, but a possible love interest. At the same time, he never initiated openly intimate contact, rather he waited for you to initiate. And he had never kissed you, nor shown any interest in doing so.

“I’m leaning dom. But it’s a slight preference. It has a lot to do with my partner’s preferences. I’ve both dommed and subbed in the past. I like the protective, possessive side of domming, but I also like the receiving, caring side of subbing. Still I enjoy the control that comes from being more dominant. I would say it’s 65 to 35 for domming.”

You nodded. That sounded good. “That’s nice. I’m also a bit in the middle. Leaning sub, though.” It felt natural replying. It felt like he should know.

“Thank you for giving that up.” He smiled, warming up to you, trying to associate a positive outcome to your sharing personal information about yourself. “Now, about my question.” He fumbled a bit in his head, trying to go for something intimate, but not openly sexual. “Okay, if you could kiss any part of your significant other but their face, what would it be?”

You smiled at the cute question. Because you honestly didn’t think of the sexual side of it. “Well, you said no face. Let me think... I think I really like giving hand kisses. They’re old school, but also so meaningful. They’re apparently platonic and innocent, but they have that side of worship and adoration that just makes me weak.” You hugged yourself, growing smitten at the thought.

He cocked his head to the side, looking at you with a curious and endeared expression.

“I also like kissing on the chest, like the breastbone, like the very center of the chest. Another not openly sexual spot, but I think it’s so tender. There’s the heart there, so it’s an especially fond spot. It sort of implies that the other person is hugging you, and that you’re laying your head on their chest.” You gushed, turning absolutely tender at the thought.

“What about the face?” He asked. He wanted your hand kisses. He wanted his fingers in your mouth, but that was not the point of the question at all and you were there smitten and cute and he should stop sexualising your cuteness outburst.

“Isn’t that another question?” You smirked, brow creasing.

“I should have asked for ‘anywhere but mouth’. Dumb me.” He huffed out and sulked.

“Then, forehead kisses. Underrated. Affectionate. Platonic but so tender. They go to a whole other level of intimacy.” You murmured, anything to stop his sulking, which was making your heart twist in your chest.

He grinned “Thank you.” He said, sinking his head between his shoulders.

“Well, pay up for it with question six. Thoughts on being vocal during sexy time?” You asked.

“Yes.” He didn’t hesitate one second. “Tendentially I’m not very verbal, and I try to keep it quiet. After such a long time with roommates, that’s kind of ingrained in me. Since I moved out, I kinda got more vocal, still not very verbal, but don’t expect pornographic feats.” He laughed, trying to relax the mood. “For my partner, any sound is a nice sound, as long as it’s not fake porn screaming. Subtle moaning and heavy breathing get me going quickly. Sensitive ears and stuff.” He scratched his neck. He was getting worked up again. Deep breath, boy. He scolded himself. “Anything else?”

You shook your head. “I’m good, thanks. Come on, shoot it.”

“It’s my number six?”

“Yes, champ. Go get it.” You teased cheekily.

He took in a big breath, licking his lips.

God, any more lip game and you’d throw yourself at him.

“Quick reminder: you have your drink there, just in case.” He offered. “Have you ever had a sex dream?”

Yes, about you and your dirty mouth and naughty hands. Wait, do dirty daydreams count?

He misunderstood your pause for a sign of reluctance. “Your drink is there, ____, waiting for you.” He reminded you.

You took your glass.

He nodded with little movements of his head, his expression neutral. That’s how much is too much, he though.

“I’ve dreamt of a classmate performing oral on me, once during that relationship I mentioned.” You admitted after taking a sip. Indeed, liquid courage. “I felt awful when I woke up. But it was an epiphany of sorts. It really made me understand how fucked up it all was. I don’t usually have those dreams.” You admitted. “Although I have dreamt random stuff about being naked and sexual feelings related to non-sexual contexts. Like once I dreamt I was canoeing on a rough river and I had this complicated torso bondage thing going on.” You laughed awkwardly.

Breast bondage. He was salivating. Maybe he was overthinking it but his mind had reserved a special spot for your breasts and maybe you didn’t even like nipple play that much and he was just making it up in his head. He closed his eyes to avoid checking your chest. He knew it would kill him. He was already dealing with a semi, elbows propped on his knees to hide it, hoping that the angle and the dim lights would help him. In a part of his brain he started building a folder about your previous relationship, saving there all the useful information. He sort of assumed, because of the dream you had recollected, that oral was some sort of hot topic during that time.

“Thank you, Kitten. I was afraid I had gone too far.”

“It’s okay. It’s just… I do wanna open up to you, but there’s hurtful stuff in the process.” You admitted. “I’m a bit fucked up.”

“We all are, sweetheart.” He reassured you, wanting nothing but to hold your hand, bring it to his heart, to his face, to his lips.

“My turn!” You smiled excitedly. “Sleeping habits: pjs, underwear or naked?”

“My sleeping habits or my preferences for my significant other?” He asked, trying to understand the answer you expected.

“Well, since you asked, both? For the kisses question earlier.” You reminded him.

“Nice, okay. I often sleep in pjs, especially when it gets colder. Naked feels nice too, I guess. Usually in the summer. When I’m on vacation.” He thought about the other one. How would he want you to sleep next to him? “I think I like my partner in very loose clothing. Oversized t-shirt and panties.” No bra, of course. He wants his hands to move there freely. “Naked sounds nice, but I don’t expect it. Some people feel vulnerable like that. My ex did.” He explained.

You understood, people are different, et cetera, but at the same time you asked yourself who wouldn’t want to sleep naked next to him. Feel him waking up, his warm skin enveloping you, his hands and mouth having free access to anything he craved, being completely laid bare for his whims and wants.

He noticed you were distracted and asked you his question right away.

When you noticed him staring you moved your head forward, waiting for him to speak.

“I’ve already asked, but maybe you were distracted, Kitten. How would you rate your sex drive from one to ten?” He asked. “To understand your needs, you see.”

You settled back against the back of the sofa, smiling and thinking. “I’d say around seven? Maybe eight? Like, usually I fool around about two or three times a week. Maybe four if I’m feeling very spoiled and needy.” You explained, fumbling around with the words. Yeah, you have toys and use them. Yeah, you masturbate and have an healthy sex life. Getting laid helps you deal with stress and mood swings, and endorphins help you keep your mood up, what’s wrong with that?

“Reasonable.” He didn’t comment on your fooling around. He might as well try to figure that out with the next question.

“What about you?” You asked.

“Is that your question, Kitten?” He waited for your confirmation. At your lively nod, he smiled. “I think I’m also around seven. As you said, I fool around about three to four times a week, when I’m quite relaxed. Sometimes I might get too tired and just avoid it entirely. Sometimes I’m tired but nervous and just do it more often but take shorter sessions. My question now.” He wanted to speed things up a little. It was around three now and he was afraid you wanted to bail on him.

“Go.” You said, already expecting this one to be bad.

“Do you use any sex toys?”

You laughed. “Yes. I do.”

“That’s it?” He asked, impatient to know more.

“When did this conversation become so explicit?” You asked.

“It was you who started it. But since I’m interested in knowing what you like and what you need, I realised I could use it to my advantage. I want to build intimacy with you before I start actually messing with you. I want our first time to feel right. I want to be able to laugh it out, were things to get messy. I want to know how to make you lose your mind beforehand.”

“If you say so…” You smiled suspicious but also curious. “I have a vibrator. A simple, practical one. Very old school, a bullet number. I also have a double density dildo. Expensive ordeal, but most definitely worth the money. And nipple suction cups. They’re still new. It’s a gift from myself I did a few months ago after a tough time at work.”

Fuck, he wanted to shove his head in a frozen lake. Could you? For real? He dragged his hands down his face.

“I wish I could see what’s going on in your head right now.” You wondered, faking aloofness. You were most likely ready to spread yourself on the coffee table and ask him to feast on you. “Now, about my question.” You followed your intuition. “What’s the body part that turns you on the most?”

He took a sip.

Don’t leave me hanging, Yoongi, please. “I like eye contact. Makes me understand the mood of my partner. It really turns me on when my partner maintains eye contact during sex. And I’m a breasts man. A hopeless one at that.” Again he shrugged in an “I can’t help it” kind of way.

You laid your head back against the sofa, looking at him with a knowing glance from under your lashes. “Interesting.” How long would it take to convince him to rip your shirt, slip the cups of your bra under your tits and suck your nipples until you orgasmed a couple times and fell asleep?

He took another sip. He was blushing. You liked your nipples sucked. And he liked sucking them. How convenient. “What’s a blatantly nonsexual thing that turns you on?” He asked, putting down the glass.

You did consider drinking. Could you handle him knowing such a sensitive piece of information? To hell with reason. “If you cup my face I’ll go smitten. Pair that up with a term of endearment or a little praise and I’m ready to drop to my knees.” You admitted.

“Praise kink?” He asked.

“No. I just get soft when someone cups my cheek. It makes me want to please them.” You admit.

“You know I’ll use this against you the moment you allow me to, right?” He states openly.

“Yes. I don’t mind.”

“Ask your question. It’s number ten baby.” He looked at his watch. “It’s late. Tell me when you want to go. I’ll understand.”

“I want to keep going.” You said. In more ways than one. “What’s something you want to try in bed?”

He stared off in the distance. “Oh. Let me think.” He started bouncing his leg. “Specifically in bed?”

“Yes.”

“I’m pretty sensitive. Maybe I would try something with blindfolds and restraints and sensation play? Like a feather or silk or something along that line.” He blushed and his his eyes in his hands.

“That sounds interesting. You want to try that on someone else or on yourself?” You asked for clarification.

“Myself. But I’m not opposed to doing that to someone else. Okay, let’s go on, I’m suffering here.” Inhale. Exhale. “Do you want to take it down a notch or keep going?”

“Keep going.” You murmured, afraid of what would come next, but also excited.

“Kitten, what makes you wet in seconds?” He whispered.

“You want to use this against me too?” You suspected.

“Only in your best interests.”

“Do you mean sexual things that turn me on innocent ones?” You pushed your head behind your ear.

“Do your thing, kitten.”

“On a more innocent level, I’m really sensitive to voices. I must say that yours unsettles me a little.” You confessed on a small note, with a tiny voice. “On a sexual level, I’m a mess for anything around my chest and neck. It makes me weak at the knees, it really drives me wild.”

“Touching, kissing, biting, sucking, licking…?” He suggested, fixing his posture.

“Yes to all.” You whispered, stretching to get the glass.

“Yeah.” He took a sip himself.

You gulped and put down the tumbler. “Do you ever willingly deepen your voice?”

“Yes. I did it for you, when we met. I saw you shiver when I did it accidentally, the first time we met at the office. So I did it again. I wanted you to notice me, I wanted to get you flustered.” He admitted shyly.

You sucked you lip. “You did. I was squeezing my legs so bad. You know when you stood up and said goodbye?”

“You were holding the edge of the table.” He remembered, nodding.

“My knees were wobbly. I don’t think my legs could hold me up.” You confessed, shaking your head timidly.

“Poor Kitten.” He said, hiding his mouth behind his hand. “Can I ask you a tricky question, sweetheart?”

As you nodded he huffed out a question, scared to ask. “Oral: giving or receiving.”

“Giving. Receiving is a difficult matter. My ex didn’t really… enjoy that.” You spoke vaguely.

He did a double take. “He didn’t eat you out?”

You shook your head gingerly.

“He was shit.” He muttered, pouring himself another shot. You were eleven questions in and he’d drunk only sips. And it was not because he didn’t answer but rather because he needed to calm his nerves before he jumped you.

“I guess so.” You giggled embarrassedly.

“Never?” he asked again, shocked. “Never in 3 years?”

“Never.” You confirmed. “He said the taste made him gross.”

“Gross… And he wanted you to suck him, quite obviously.”

“I didn’t mind. I like the view”. You admitted with a playful gleam in your eyes.

He saved that for later, but at the moment he was too busy handling the matter of your ex. “Fucker.” He replied and took a sip. “But are you opposed to it?” Yoongi asked, curious and honestly worried. He would give anything to convince you to let him change your mind.

You blushed. “I’ve done it a couple times with a few flings, but just like you and noise-making, my mind is kind of set on giving rather than receiving. Still, I think I could give it a try.” You announced.

“I’m glad you’re not letting that fucker take that from you.” He admitted, keeping the glass in his hand and holding onto it like it were his sanity.

“If I’m being honest, after that time we went to the park– you remember the ice cream right?”

Yeah, he remembered. Most importantly he remembered the huge boner he’d got as he watched you eating it, his body losing it like a teenager. He nodded.

“I think I’ve started to think about… Your head. There.” You were getting loose-lipped.

You were going to make him sin. He swore under his breath, downing the shot. Again you laughed, enjoying how you were affecting him. “Gonna show you how good it is.” He teased.

“Hope you’ll show me many, many things.” You joked cheekily.

“Trust me, I’m keeping a list, sweetheart.” And the final smirk made you want to rip your own panties and offer yourself to his pink, wet tongue. “Are you okay, Kitten?” He asked, reaching for your knee.

If he touches me, I’ll fucking explode. And there was his hand. On your knee. “Have you ever had sexual fantasies about a man?” The words left your mouth quickly.

He let his fingertips caress your clothed skin. He wished you were wearing a skirt. “I consider myself attracted to people regardless of their gender identity. I had a very brief fling with a man once, but nothing truly ever happened. We just kissed a couple times, but we weren’t right for each other, emotionally. He was too reserved for me. And he was incredibly untrusting.”

“So trust is the dealbraker? Trust?” You asked, immediately interested in something that had changed his relationship so dramatically.

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“Okay. I understand.”

“Moving on. What are your thoughts on the last time you had sex?” He kept spurring you on, going deeper and deeper under your skin, getting closer and closer to your soul, trying to discover the very heart of you, and most importantly if he had any chance to settle there.

“Oh God.” You laughed. “It was almost eight months ago. It was traumatic.” Again you laughed.

“Is that an exasperated laugh?” He asked, worried but also interested in your ironic reaction.

“I’m laughing to hold back tears. Last time I had sex, the dude had a dick too big for his own good and didn’t know how to use it. I definitely faked the second one because he kept poking me with his fingers. I asked to change positions so I could touch myself and cum. It was awful.” You laughed some more. “When I went back home I just had to take care of myself.”

“Promise you won’t fake with me.” He almost begged. “Promise me you won’t go home and take care of yourself.”

“I can promise you the first.” You bit your lip. And drank. Don’t ask me the second, please don’t. Please.

“I’ll need the other one too, you know.” He said, pressing you in the matter.

You have no idea, Yoongi. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” He murmured, frowning.

Because I did that so many times already coming home from dates with you, every time silently begging you to kiss me, to touch me, to ruin me. “I’ll try to from now on.”

“I’m sorry if I sent you home frustrated before. But I honestly needed to take my time.” He shoved his hands in his hair, combing it back. “I tend to rush. Once I let go.” He confessed exhaling loudly. He looked at you with a lustful glance. “But I promise I’ll take care of you. Completely.” He was getting flirtier.

“Quickies or long session?”

“Is that your question, kitten? Are you sure?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Answer me, Yoongi.” You laid back, opening your legs just lightly. Anything to lessen the discomfort lodged in your crotch.

He looked amused. “I can do both. But long sessions for the win. The devil’s in the details and the sex is in the foreplay.” He also leaned back and parted his legs, mirroring you perfectly. “What’s the best sex you’ve ever had?”

“A guy I was dating on-again-off-again, before I met my ex. I was twenty. I let him go because I was starting to fall for my ex. He showed me half the stuff I like. The other half I picked up myself.”

He wanted to know more. He wanted to know what you liked, what he owed some horny teenager and what you had discovered yourself. How you had discovered it. Most importantly, he wanted to excel in everything you liked. He wanted to please you again and again, till you were drunk in bliss and his taste, your skin glistening in a gross and divine mixture of his sweat and drool and your own perspiration. He wanted messy and loud and obliterating.

He wanted…

“Have you ever touched yourself while thinking of me?” You asked, bold, spitting the question out of your tongue like ripping off a band aid.

He threw his head back, groaning in something that looked like pain. It wasn’t arousal. You were quite sure.

He was burgundy with shame and effort. He grabbed the glass and downed the alcohol in one go. “Yes.”

You rolled your neck and exhaled, moaning.

“Almost every day.” He went on. “I can’t get you out of my head and I need it to stop for just. One. Second.”

You gulped, then took a big breath through you mouth. “I have too. Thought of you, that is.”

“I assumed so.” He whispered. “I’ve thought of things I’m not proud of, Kitten. I’m a grown, respectful man, but you’ve made such a sorry mess of me.”

“I am so sorry, Yoongi.” No, you’re not.

“You’re truly sadistic, aren’t you?” He asks.

“Is that your question?”

“No.” He pauses. “What’s your favourite body part on yourself and on me?”

Your heartbeat felt like a joke. You closed your legs. No need to try and play it cool. You were drenched, and you were afraid that by now it was actually starting to show. “I think I like my hands? Or maybe… I don’t really know. I think my hands are nice.”

“They are beautiful, ____, really.” So were your tits, but it didn’t feel quite right to point that out in that precise moments.

“Thank you.” You took a long break, biting your lip before going on with your answer. “On you... I’ve been thinking about those hands a lot”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You deadpanned. The background music shifted to something sultry and so slow you felt like desire was spiraling in your loins with that cool, rich drawl.

“What about them?” He continued.

You took a sip of your drink, looking at him from under your lashes. “Around my throat.”

Yoongi sat back, undoing one button of his shirt. “Keep going.”

“One around my throat, the other in my hair as you kiss me, drawing me in. Keeping me still.”

“Keep going.” He said, closing his eyes and rolling his shoulders.

“Maybe I’ve been thinking of your hand on my chest. Your fingers pinching my nipples.”

“God bless you, Kitten. What else did my naughty hands do in those dreams of yours.”

Your voice got breathy and shy. “Maybe… Just maybe they got between my legs.”

“And how did that make you feel.” He was going to lose it.

“Horny.”

His heavy breathing stopped for a second. “Did you touch yourself?” His eyes opened to look at your reaction.

You nodded slowly, trying to get some saliva in your awfully dry mouth. The whisky helped. “I needed it.”

“Good girl.” He praised your honesty, again trying to work on that association between your openness and a positive outcome. He thought it was over. Your confession.

“But to be honest what really made me cum was thinking of your pretty pout on my breasts, licking my tits and biting into the soft skin there.”

He growled, pushing the balls of his hands against his eyes. “Kitten, I think I just came in my pants.”

You laughed wildly at his honesty, rolling your head back and teasing him, showing the expanse of your neck and chest.

“Cruel, ain’t you?”

“I’m also sweet.”

“I don’t care, I’ll lick you up anyway.” He teased downing his glass. His second.

You both did a refill. You were tipsy and his eyes had a gleam that wasn’t there at the beginning of the evening.

“You won’t be able to drive me home.” You murmured.

“Do you really want me to?” He asked.

“No.” You answered.

“Remember, I promised not to fuck you tonight, Kitten.” He reminded you.

“Not even foreplay?” You pouted. “Not even making out? A small peck on the lips?”

“I’m hungry for you. That shit just ain’t it.” He growled. You knew he had deepened his voice for you.

You crossed your legs. “Do you like massage?”

“What number is that?” He asked, referring to how many questions you’ve gone through.

“Fifteen. Do you?” You pressed him, trying to get him to talk.

“I mentioned being sensitive. I do like that when I’m in a stressed mood. I like it after a warm bath, with warm lotion or massage oil. It really makes me weak. An ex introduced me to it and I think I got a bit addicted to it, whenever I feel like I need to be taken care of.”

“It sounds nice.” It felt like a nice pause from the kinkfest that had been going on until five minutes ago.

“Have you ever cried while you were in bed with someone?” He asked, his voice delicate as he reached for another intimate, although innocent side of you.

“The first time I hooked up after my ex. It was so liberating I cried. The guy beside me freaked out a little, but he understood. He was kind, just very emotionally dumb, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry for that. It sounds like he scarred you so much.” Yoongi commented, his boiling desire subduing at your vulnerable, tender side. A silly, egotistic part of him wanted to heal you. Try as hard as he might.

“It’s cool.” Your mouth quirked to the side. “Let’s move on to brighter themes, yeah? What’s your favourite thing to do, sexually speaking?”

He looked at you with doubt in his eyes. You knew the past scars conversation wasn’t over. Still, he smiled bright and replied. “I want to suck your nipples. Bite your soft, round tits, leave hickies all over them.” He leaned over, feeling bold as he let his hand catch yours. He scooted closer to you, his voice so deep he sounded like Hades, god of the Underworld. “That’s one of my favourite things in bed. And not just there, honestly.”

Could a person die from arousal? Because you felt your heart burst at that moment, explode like a match and light up your bonfire body. “Yoongi.” You murmured as he let the back of his fingers travel along the outer side of your thigh in a phantom touch.

“You wanna know what else I really, really like doing in bed? Another fantasy of mine?” He asked, his tone patronising but his posture all the opposite, respectful and tender, like a man talking to his woman. He leaned down, close to your ear. “I want you to sit on my face, Kitten. I wanna lick you up like you’re dripping in cream. I want my face covered in jour taste. I want to choke between your legs. Will you give me that?” He asked, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear and placing a soft kiss on your temple. “Will you give me that, Kitten?”

You had gone completely still, afraid that even your smallest move could break the spell. “Take it now, please, Yoongi.” You begged. “I can’t take this anymore. I’m so wet. I’m so tired of needing you all the time!” You whined, grabbing his hand and placing it between your clothed thighs, where your wetness had started to diffuse.

“I can’t, Kitten. You know our promises. But what about my question, uh? Have you ever had a threesome, sweetheart?”

“Once. After leaving my ex I had some wild times. A couple of university friends asked me to join them. I sort of liked it.” You admitted, as your hips tried to grind against his barely-there fingers.

“Liked doing it with a girl?” He asked, gripping your thigh and pressing you down, stopping your attempt at release.

“I liked eating her out.”

“Kitty girl likes using her tongue. Good for her.” He murmured, trying to stop the image of you doing that. He needed to try. Needed to see. Fuck monogamy, he could try this before you became too his to share.

By now he was sitting at your side and you were doing everything, everything in your power to stop yourself from straddling his lap and shoving his head between your breasts. You took your glass and took a sip, his nose drawing a thin line following the outline of your throat while swallowing. You almost choked. “What’s your favorite part of sex?”

“Foreplay. But it was already clear, wasn’t it?” He taunted. “You need to focus, Kitten. Ask the right questions. Mirror sex?” He queried.

“Yes.” You replied. Alcohol spurred you on. “Honestly, I want to try giving a man a hand job while stading behind him, in front of a mirror. I’d like to feel the power of that.” You shrugged.

“That sounds nice.” He played it cool, the erection in his trousers now too blatant to even bother covering.

You almost wanted to ask him if he had a full-length mirror nearby so you could get started right there and then. But you didn’t like how cool and unaffected he seemed. You wanted him to get flustered and drink and undo another button. You wanted him to throw his head back so you could lick a stripe up his neck. “And I would whisper dirty stuff in your ear. Don’t think I didn’t notice how flustered you were during our gallery visit.”

“Darling, that was an exercise in restraint. I almost smashed you against the closest painting at least three times.”

“Only three times?” You lifted your eyebrows dramatically.

“I’m almost offended, Min Yoongi.”

“Careful there, Kitten.” He warned.

“Unless?” You provoked him.

“I’ve promised I won’t fuck you tonight.” He murmured.

“Such a coquettish tease you are.” You huffed, looking away.

“I want you to ruin me, Kitten. We can’t do that until promotion is over and you can leave marks all over me as much as you want.” His deepened voice made you squirm on your seat, legs crossing in desperate need to ease the pulsing under your panties.

“It’s almost four a.m. Are you sure you want to finish this?”

I want you to finish me. “Question...”

“Eighteen, babe.”

“Mh, nice. If your partner ever caught you touching yourself, would you keep going?”

“Depends, but yeah, I think so.” Pause. “I would put up a nice show for you.” He palmed his erection through the fabric, trying to get more comfortable.

Yes, you noticed. No, you did not comment. Self combustion is not your current goal, after all. “That’s all you’re gonna offer me?” You asked piqued, dragging your fingernail from his knee to his hipbone slowly. He didn’t manage to hold back a shiver.

You chuckled lowly. “Sensitive little thing.”

“My turn, little devil. What of masturbating while dirty talking?” He asked, his arm moving behind your back and climbing up, snaking around your shoulder, his hand grabbing your chin to shift your gaze from his lap to his face.

“Want to know a secret, baby?” You lured him in, carefully.

“Everything.”

“I’ve touched myself while listening to you.” You whispered at his ear, goosebumps raising everywhere, his whole body growing too sensitive as your hand moved to his inner thigh.

“Really?” Yoongi asks, trying to push his crotch in your palm.

You retreated your hand, offering only the tip of your index finger, which started lazily tracing the outline of his hard on. “I’m sorry. Does it bother you?”

He winced. He would really come in his pants like a teenager. Was your question about your hand or about using his voice to get yourself off? He didn’t mind, both. “I’m perfectly good with it, Kitten. I’m just surprised. What was I talking about.” His voice was neutral, but his eyes were closing, mouth hanging open.

You neared your mouth to his ear and started explaining. “It was a voice note. You were discussing a beat, describing the vibe of the piece you had just finished, murmuring stuff about the bass and not being sure of the tempo, maybe slowing it down.”

“And you came to that?” He asked, opening his eyes and meeting yours.

You were stroking him through his clothes and you hadn’t even kissed him yet. I told you. A slut. That’s what you are. You reprimanded yourself. “I came to the sound of your voice. The pattern of stresses. It was so relaxing. The way your voice resonated.” You kissed his jaw, taking courage.

He smiled. “Next time I’ll send you something more... stimulating, then.” He cocked his head to the side, showing you the soft skin below his chin.

You kissed there too. “I’ll look forward to it.” Another kiss. “Final question.” Another. “if you could do anything to me right now, what would you do?” You placed another kiss on his neck as he moaned, his hips moving shamelessly.

You offered him your palm.

He groaned when he started answering. “Tear your clothes off. Suck your panties clean ‘cause they must be soaked.”

You squeezed your hand around his shape. He was rock hard, the curve following the waistband of his pants. He didn’t feel excessively big, but still his thickness felt nice on your palm. You just wished you could see him naked. He emitted a low whine, his hand dropping from your chin and hitting your chest. “Keep going, Yoongi.” You encouraged him, needing to know what he wanted to do to you.

“I would lick you clean. Fuck you on the sofa, you on top of me. Riding me while I suck on those gorgeous tits.” His hand reached lower, holding your breast and rolling it expertly in his gentle grip. “I’d cum in your cunt while I’m balls deep inside you. And when we’re done I would fuck my cum back inside with my tongue.” He growled like a vicious beast and you just couldn’t help it, you needed your hand between your thighs. You obeyed to your need.

“You’re a filthy, greedy boy, Yoongi, aren’t you?” You asked, giving him more, rewarding for the glorious image he’d just gifted you.

“It’s with you. Just you.” He called out, his voice broken, his mouth desperate. “My final question. Why haven’t you kissed my lips yet?”

“I was waiting for you.” You murmured, bringing your lips upwards, against his throat. He was completely immobilised as you lingered a hairsbreadth from his plush pout. “Yes?”

“Yes.” He whispered.

That’s when you lowered yourself on him, once hopeless, starved and now finally hopeful and nourished.

He feeded you milk and honey, his assault sweet and rich, a balm to your tarnished soul. His lips latched onto your lower lip, sucking and sucking in a way that made you want to offer him every inch of your body. Yes, you would still wait for this. You would keep waiting. For this moment to come back, for this feeling to bloom and fill you over and over again, anytime he kissed you, from now to the rest of eternity. You murmured his name on his mouth and he spoke yours, with alarm over his features.

“Too much, too much, Kitten, please.” He whispered, pressing harder against your hand. “Want you. Please. Touch yourself. I wanna cum with you.”

He was lost and desperate, grinding against you like a fool.

You undid your zipper and put your hands on your sodden folds. You delivered a peck on his lips. “How close?” You asked.

“Very.” He replied, wetting your lips with the tip of his tongue, making you open your mouth and licking you up, flirting with your own tongue.

You pulled away to bite his jaw gently. “I’ve never been this wet, Yoongi. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“Gimme...” You studied the geography of his lap, finding his tip and focusing there. “Yes.” He murmured, before intensifying his pushes. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Please, ____, let me hear you.”

You let out an embarrassed, tentative whine, then, trying to properly assist him, you started getting carried away, losing your damper, clenching your inner muscles and whispering his name. “Yoongi, I’m close.” You murmured. “Need you to…”

“Yes, Kitten, baby, please… I–” With a groan, he hid his head in the crook of your neck, biting on the skin, not too harshly.

It was all it took. “Yoongi!” You screamed, pushing into your own hand and collapsing against the back of the couch, dragging him with you.

When you regained conscience, he was already out of his high, looking flustered and sleepy and glowing. Beautiful.

“Can I?” He uttered quietly.

You nodded, barely coherent.

He helped your hand out of your waistband, careful not to stain your clothes. And granting you a fine view, he brought your hands to his mouth and licked them clean.

His tongue delved into every angle and plane, making sure he got every drop. Licking his lips, he stared into your soul and murmured deeply. “The fucking sweetest.”

And then he held you close. “There’s a spare bathroom, at the end of the hall. It has everything you need.” He explained. “I’ll get cleaned myself. Will you sleep in my bed?” He asked, his voice so vulnerable it shattered your heart.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

#bangtan sonyeondan #bts smut #bangtan smut #min yoongi #min yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi scenario #yoongi imagine #yoongi one shot #yoongi reaction

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wangisking · 3 years

Text

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐘

BASICS. FULL NAME : Augustus Alexander Wang NICKNAME : August and Gus ( in general ), Auggie, Ice Prince, and Guggie ( by Aurora ). Aug and Lestat ( by Jack ), NAME MEANINGS : Augustus is Latin for the great / the magnificent. Alexander is also Latin and means defender of mankind. From what I know, Wang in Chinese means king. HISTORICAL CONNECTION ? : Though, his dad did think of the Roman Emperor Augustus when they named him, they liked the meaning. It seemed to fit him. They weren’t wrong, he was an emperor and he still has that energy. AGE : 22. Like Aurora, he can’t age past 22. He wouldn’t have minded either way. BIRTHDAY : 5th April ETHNIC GROUP : Augustus is half Korean and half Brazilian. NATIONALITY : British LANGUAGES : fluent in English and French. Conversational Latin. Broken Korean. Learning Urdu. SEXUAL ORIENTATION : demi-heterosexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : demi-heterosexual RELATIONSHIP STATUS : Single and doesn’t want to mingle. He had only one serious relationship in the past with Aurora Shams from 2017-2019. CLASS : Upper class, Wealthy but not private-jet kind of wealthy. HOME TOWN / AREA : London till he was 10 and Vancouver till he was 17 CURRENT HOME : Los Angeles PROFESSION : Drummer, songwriter, model, and student. PHYSICAL. HAIR : long and wavy. Chestnut brown. Here is an example. It goes down his earlobes in length. EYES : piercing, almond-shaped eyes. Naturally brown, but he wears blue or green contact lenses. NOSE : a Greek nose, straight without bumps. FACE : Oblong shaped, sharp and chiseled cheekbones, strong jaw. Masculine features. Example. LIPS : not full nor thin, heart shaped. COMPLEXION : pretty pale. Example is same as the face section. SCARS : one on his chest. TATTOOS : a very small ‘10/17′ on his left rib. PIERCINGS: earlobes HEIGHT : 6′5″ or 195cm. BUILD : Inverted triangle. Broad, tapered shoulders. Muscular. Defined, sculpted abs. Long limbs. Broad chest. He was naturally towards the muscular side with broad shoulders and chest. He’s never been on the skinny side. Example one and two USUAL HAIR STYLE : he lets his hair do their thing, he styles them a little, but he prefers a messier vibe. USUAL FACE LOOK : He looks generally bored. His eyes have a piercing look that seem to be drilling into the person before him. Like he can see right through you. There is an insolent smirk tugging at his lips like he thinks you’re amusing. Almost proud, like he thinks he is above you. There is depth and intensity in his eyes that stare skywards in thought. There is also mischievous, radiant glimmer in his eyes. USUAL CLOTHING : prince charming meets rockstar. Lots of jackets, darker colors, boots, necklaces and rings. Here is his wardrobe. PSYCHOLOGY. FEARS : claustrophobia and the fear of ending up alone. He always had this creeping feeling that he’d be alone in the end and that he was always meant to be alone. ASPIRATIONS : he doesn’t have any set aspirations. They change every now and then. However, his goals are just to keep his found family happy. POSITIVE TRAITS : extremely charismatic, intelligent, academic and studious, alluring and attractive, quick-witted, charming and captivating, articulate and eloquent, adventurous, desirable, analytical, brilliant, friendly, enthusiastic, adaptable, observant, kind, mellow, competent, extremely caring and protective over those closest to him, clever, loyal, clear-headed, confident, humorous, courageous, imaginative and creative, a visionary, refined tastes and manners, daring, dignified, ebullient, deep, remarkable, surprisingly he’s very forgiving, forthright, gallant, logical, gentlemanly and sophisticated, perfectionist, popular, self-reliant, shrewd, witty, suave, curious, and resourceful. NEGATIVE TRAITS : egocentric, self-obsessed, idle, indifferent, selfish, defiant, arrogant, argumentative, rebellious, kinda lazy, stubborn, distracted, doesn’t really care for morals, blunt, can appear insensitive a lot, is insensitive at times, no filters, can be cold for those he doesn’t care for, emotionally immature, deflects emotions, suppresses his feelings, sorta detached, kinda pessimistic, and unknowingly self-sacrificing because he thinks it’s fair and he deserves it. MBTI : ENTP ( Ne dominant, Ti auxiliary, Fe tertiary, and Si inferior — this means she can’t use Ni, Se, Te, and especially can’t use Fi). He perceives the world by connecting dots, thinking of never-ending possibilities, looking for pieces of a puzzle, and finding meaning in abstract. He makes judgments on if what he perceives fits his internal logic. ZODIAC : Aries sun, Gemini rising, Sagittarius moon. TEMPERAMENT : sanguine choleric ANIMALS : parrots and cats because they’re both intelligent but little pieces of shit who enjoy making your life hell. VICE : it’s either his ego or how he ends up detaching himself FAITH : currently, he’s Mu.slim. He was born protestant, became an atheist when he was 13, agnostic at 14. Bud.dhist at 15. Taoist at 16. Confucianist at 17. Mu.slim at 19. Doesn't practice it though. GHOSTS ? : yep.. AFTERLIFE ? : yep REINCARNATION ? : he guesses so. Went through it, but doesn’t remember. ALIENS ? : hell yeah. POLITICAL ALIGNMENT : liberal. ECONOMIC PREFERENCE : upper class or upper middle class is good with him. EDUCATION LEVEL : MSci in Physics from the University of Cambridge. Is opting to specialize in astrophysics soon. FAMILY. FATHER : Edward Wang, owner of a chain of fine dining restaurants MOTHER : Elisa Violeta Wang, psychiatrist, deceased STEP MOTHER : Chaeyoung Wang, lawyer. SIBLINGS : Cassandra Wang, athlete EXTENDED FAMILY : he is not close with his external family and doesn’t know his birth mother’s family at all. They never wanted him. FAVOURITES. BOOK : Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky, Galactic Dynamics by James Binney, Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Mukarami, Slaughter house Five by Kurt Vonnegut, War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy, and Lord of the Flies by William Golding. MOVIE : Scott Pilgrim vs The World 5 SONGS : All You Want - Dashboard Prophets, Tokyo Smoke - Cage the Elephant, Where is My Mind? - The Pixies, Sparks - Coldplay, Lithium - Nirvana, and Mr. Blue Sky - Electric Light Orchestra DEITY : none. Let him argue with one and ask for proof of their deity-ness. HOLIDAY : Halloween. It’s dramatic and fun. MONTH : October, because he met Aurora and Jack this month in 2017. SEASON : spring and summer. PLACE : he doesn’t have a specific place, but he prefers European architecture. WEATHER : cloudy and windy. Sunny if it isn’t too hot. SOUND : drums and percussions, the sound of aurora and jack’s laugh, guitars, violins, the sound of wind roaring, music boxes, and the clinking of bangles and jewelry. SCENTS : sage, rosemary, and damascus roses. TASTES : chocolate, strawberries, chilies, and fried food. FEELS : the feeling of hitting the drums, wind in his hair, the cold night air, warm morning sun, grass against his fingertips, silk, and touching long hair. ANIMALS : cats and dogs. NUMBER : 8 COLORS : white, cherry red, pink, maroon, wine red, black, and silver. EXTRA. TALENTS : he is an extremely talented drummer, good at guitar and the piano, he is talented at songwriting, composing music, he’s exceptionally good at mathematics and physics, analytical skills, storytelling, knows a lot of facts, near photographic memory because he remembers all important historical events with dates and details, academic writing, and brainstorming ideas. BAD AT : cooking, not very good at driving because he gets distracted, doing one task at a time, playing videogames, actually listening to what people say, being humble, and actually being a good leader. TURN ONS : this is a complicated question. He needs a very strong emotional connection to feel sexual attraction towards someone. And he only felt it for one person in his whole life. But, what sparked that attraction was a brilliant mind and the ability to connect with his mind on a very different level. It’s not going to repeat with anyone else. TURN OFFS : literally everyone else. He’s not sorry, but I am. HOBBIES : playing the drums, writing and composing songs, reading, solving problems, listening to music, watching shows, getting people to do weird shit, and annoying people. AESTHETIC : crowns, drums, broken drumming sticks, abstract art, the vast space, chess boards, album cases, thrones, the echoing sound of pianos, Greek sculptures, galaxies and nebulas, early morning sunrise through curtains, libraries, equations scribbled on napkins, empty museums, unmade white sheets, polaroid cameras, conspiracy theories, VHS tapes, antique books, cobblestone alleyways, night skies, cluttered books, calloused fingers, crumpled composition pages, guitar picks, vinyl, telescopes, and planets. Basically: abstract, chaotic academia, cryptid academia, dark academia, indie, kingcore, light academia, musical academia, science academia, spacecore, QUOTES : it’s weird but i can’t decide which one fits him. FC INFO. MAIN FC : victor han ALT FC : n/a. OLDER FC : he can’t age past 22, so he doesn’t need one. YOUNGER FC : none yet. VOICE CLAIM : both speaking and singing (his accent is posh British with a slight hint of Canadian) MUN QUESTIONS. Q1 : If you could write your character your way in their own movie , what would it be called , what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about ? A1 : The same answer as Aurora, The Tale of Solis et Lunae that stars him alongside Aurora, Lunae, Jack, and Tate, plus more. A cosmic adventure / fantasy / coming of age / superhero / the reluctant hero / the chosen one. His role is of Aurora’s best friend and her greatest support in emotional and supernatural dangers. He is the time traveler who ascends time and space, so he often also gives her insight and information like the sage. It’ll expand across dimensions, worlds, and different states of existence. The scenes would be cinematic with a strong soundtrack. I imagine him to have some scenes like Quick Silver in the X-Men movies. Q2 : What would their soundtrack / score sound like ? A2 : He would have a 90s grunge or spacey dream rock sound. It ties in with the end of the last answer because i see him in one of those scenes with 90s grunge or maybe classical music ? Q3 : Why did you start writing this character ? A3 : I made Augustus just a bit before Aurora. They were a two part deal. I don’t know when it began, I just had this image of a tall, long haired boy with piercing, intelligent eyes who’s a smart-ass and likes being a know-it-all nuisance. This character has been the same since he began in 2019 and refused to change. He was always a drummer, he always had the same fashion sense, the look, Gus was always half-Korean, he always had long fingers he wore rings on, and he was always Aurora’s best friend/partner in crime. He remains unchanged and that's why I wanted to write him. This very vivid image of this boy was something I had to pen down. And just my luck, I found a fc who looks exactly how Gus looked in my head. Q4 : What first attracted you to this character ? A4 : Augustus is just extraordinary. It’s something I always felt about him and Aurora and I don’t see any of my other characters coming anywhere close to them regardless of how much I spent time on them. But with Augustus, his entire image and looks and personality — down to his wardrobe and jewelry was always so vivid in my head. Like I knew this very chaotically handsome boy who was going to turn the world upside down. His story is interesting, but what interests me more is his perspective on his story. The way he looks at his life and how he is quiet and doesn’t show his pain. How confused he always is. How much he aches but never seems so. The way he loves but doesn’t say even a quarter of the intensity he feels. And how sometimes he believes he deserves suffering because it makes sense to him. I also love the connections he makes and the way he loves so deeply and profoundly but underneath the surface. His connection, love, fears, and hopes with Aurora and Jack for their respective reasons are extremely beautiful. Q5 : Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse. ? A5 : Augustus is unknowingly self-sabotaging. He let go the only relationship / love in his life that made him feel like real love just because he thought he didn’t deserve it. And because when he was provoked, it made “sense” to him. He bottles his emotions and pain so much despite their intensity. He never shows how much he really cares and really hurts. And how sure he is that he’ll end up alone without friends and that it makes sense to him. Q6 : What do you have in common with your muse ? A6 : Here’s a fun answer, because I bottle my emotions like him. I also interact with the carefree way he does even if I don’t feel peachy. He’s smart and witty and really hot and I don’t even have that going on for me. So, yikes. Only of Gus’ bad things I share. Q7 : How does your muse feel about you ? A7 : Gus loves interacting with people so he’ll definitely show up to annoy me. Maybe, he might think I’m fun to annoy? Or maybe, we’ll have a similar sense of humor. I think he won’t dislike me. Not sure if he’ll like me. I think he’d think I’m funny in a strange sort of way. Q8 : What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with ? A8 : Aurora, first of all. They have this same brain wave-length thing going on where they’re partners in crime and bffs forever more. He knows how she is feeling and what she’s thinking even before she utters it. If she is about to sneeze, he’d get a tissue ready. He can tell if she is hungry or sleepy with one glance. She can do the same, so they sorta have this weird understanding of each other. Jack is this older brother figure Augustus loves. He won’t admit it, but he kinda wants to make Jack proud of him. He also wants to provide love and care to Jack that he thinks he deserves but never got. They’re his family now and he’ll never be alone or sad again. He annoys Jack a lot but behind it all, he just wants Jack to think he is needed and he belongs. That if he thinks Augustus is reliant on him, then he has this family he has to protect and care for. He can’t stand the thought of Jack feeling unloved, forgotten, alone. Tida is another one. There’s this great respect and adoration Gus has for him. Almost like he looks up to him in some ways He also has a lot of hopes and expectations attached. He feels Tida is everything that Gus himself lacks. He is the ideal boyfriend, kindest person, shows his emotions vividly, and is like a warm and cozy blanket personified. He is probably Tida and Aurora’s biggest supporter and first one to know. He can’t be happier than he is that Aurora found someone as good and perfect as Tida. Taewon is one really fun character. Their two-way frenemy jealousy spans over years and started in Cambridge when they were both in love with the same girl they claimed to be best friends with. Though, trying to be calm, Augustus was constantly provoked and hurt, made to feel inferior and constantly in fear of his relationship being broken by Taewon’s schemes that he couldn’t say out loud. This dark period ended with a fist fight and baggage of guilt they both carry to this day for hurting each other and the one they claimed to love. Today, they’re way past that and frenemies who have funny quips and arguments for each other. They say they dislike each other. But if the lighting is good, one would be the photographer of the other. Q9 : What gives you inspiration to write your muse ? A9 : Music helps me imagine scenes with perfect visual details. Any scenes from shows that remind me of my storylines. Q10 : How long did this take you to complete ? A10 : I don’t remember. It was many days and I didn’t count because it was in bits and pieces.

#╰ ♛ 𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀 ━━ the king of gods #long post #i finally did this!

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darkdevasofdestruction · 3 years

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The Idiot ~ Fyodor Dostoevsky

In which the reader is the last Russian princess from our contemporary times and Fyodor is there to watch, observe, analyse and write a novel while being the reader’s sort of guardian/mentor, all while reader finds herself in an impossible, almost-Anna Karenina-like situation that drives her to desperate decisions.

And yes, I’m very much basing this story Dostoevsky’s “The Idiot” novel, Tolstyi’s “Anna Karenina” and Katyusha, both the Russian song, and the “Resurrection” novel from Tolstoy that has Katyusha as an unfortunate, yet important character.

Also, a little nod to our dear Ana Lesko for her song “Anicyka Maya”, which will serve as a cute little nickname for our dear reader, although the song is Romanian, and it’s about a seductive woman.

Other nicknames will include: Kiska ( kitten ), Zaika ( bunny ), Kroshka ( little one ), Krasotka ( gorgeous ).

I’m not Russian, I don’t know about Russia’s culture, history and language as much as I know about my own, obviously, but as ex-commie & ex-USSR, we still have a shit ton of similarities. Nevertheless, I will try not to get into too many details that will compromise authenticity.

Luxury, glamour, wealth, gold, jewellery, diamonds, class, facades, masks, masquerades, social gatherings, lies, marriages, politics, horses, deals, gambling... These represent some of the few words people from everywhere around would describe the royal family.

Why do some still exist, anyway? Shouldn’t they have just completely disappeared at the same time with the Romanov family? ...Stupid cartoon movies and their resurrection of Anastasia...

Nobody truly cares about these rich rats who worked naught for their wealth, and would never understand the struggle and poverty of the normal citizens of Russia...They just live in their abnormally huge palace, having more servants than the population of Moscow and eat at one meal more than normal people do in one week altogether.

How utterly ridiculous.

Their lives are all perfect, they marry themselves to keep that ridiculous purity and their infinite wealth in the family...How atrocious! What about charity? Kindness? Altruism? Helping out the common folk?

All these thoughts, and you’d think a very bitter and vindictive, very poor and malicious person came up with, and yet, the reality was rather distorted.

From the top stair of the palace, in a dark room, sitting on the windowpane, a gorgeous young woman cast her dull eyes over the snowy city and the people hurrying down the roads, hoping to go home before it got too late and cold.

Maybe they were poor and hateful, and rightfully so, she’d say, but perhaps they can also be deemed happier, if they can take into account their freedom...As much as the government provides them, at least - Yet even so, even the poorest person held more freedom than this caged bird, forever trapped and shackled by fate from the second she was born...As if she had any choice, that is.

Perhaps she deserves this treatment, this hatred, this...Manipulation from her own family, who only see her as a political and financial pawn, planning her marriage from the second she first cried into this world... Like a martyr, she will accept all torture and live on, never knowing what ‘living’ truly means, only imagining it by reading all day and all night long, or when she plays the piano one of the many songs she learnt.

As the grandfather clock rang to 7 times to announce dinner time, Y/N dressed in a simple, yet elegant dress, put on a pair of classy black stiletto shoes, and went down to the luxurious dining room, sitting in her usual seat, only for a brunet stranger dressed in white to grace the sight with his unexpected presence.

She didn’t dare speak to him, yet her eyes couldn’t leave his form, no matter how her meek demeanour made her hung her head to avoid showing anything other than her demure expression.

Thankfully, her parents arrived, along with the waiters that served the food, so it saved some of the awkwardness of the unknown.

“Y/N, darling, this man here is Fyodor Dostoevsky. He is here as a writer, wanting to learn more about us and about people in general. As a compromise, he agreed to be your personal guard...Considering the other one was a sacrilege to our dear daughter...What a lecherous man, making advances on you...But, anyway, let us toast to the success of this young man’s writing career!” the mother raised her champagne, and the four of them clinked glasses. “I thank you for the unique opportunity to learn and understand society and people better. May you live a long and prosperous life.” this new stranger held a charming smile on his face, trying to impress and buy everyone’s trust. “Do you have yet any idea about the theme of your novel? Or, perhaps an idea for a title?” the father asked, making the brunet shake his head softly. “No, not yet, unfortunately. I prefer to study hard, and only then, when I am educated enough, to allow the flow of creation to take over me.” this Fyodor nodded in acknowledgement, while the girl kept completely silent for the duration of the dinner, waiting for everything to be over so she could escape back to the little faux haven she created and called ‘safe’. “Y/N, show Mr. Fyodor to your room, he will be sleeping there for now on. The butlers already brought a spare bed there, so it’s alright.” the mother waved her hand dismissively, and the girl could only bow quickly and go back to her room, making sure to point out what each of the rooms represent, before reluctantly inviting him to her bedroom. “Please, make yourself at home, Mr. Dostoevsky. I hope it will be comfortable and to your liking. Should you need anything, please do not hesitate to tell me so we can make your stay as great as possible.” she spoke to him in a soft, meek voice, not daring to make eye contact in any way. “Call me Fyodor, no need for formalities. We are going to room together, might as well become friendly. What don’t you tell me about yourself? Your hobbies, your interests, your dreams, your aspirations.” the brunet paced around the room, observing all of her personal objects, which, turned out, except for jewellery, books, a small, pink Gloxinia, and a pickup with 1920s British vinyls, there was nothing to represent her...Which was, in its own way, an intriguing peculiarity. “I...Like reading, flowers, music...And I wish I could get a dog and learn how to play the violin too. There aren’t many interesting things about me...I’m not special or anything out of the ordinary. I am not allowed to put myself out there in any way, so this is the little I could do to express who I am.” so tried to be as vague as possible, fidgeting on her feet uncomfortably, knowing that the punishment for embarrassing the family would be grave, should it be known. “Hmmm...I see, I see...Ah, you’re a Tolstoy reader, I see. Anna Karenina...Very interesting, yet tragic, wouldn’t you say?” he asked, picking up a book that was supposed to be hidden. “N-No! Don’t take that out of there...Nobody can know I have it. I was strictly forbidden from reading it...Please don’t tell anyone I have this book.” the princess snatched the book from his hands, hiding it further back in the bookshelf. “Ohh~? Why would you not be allowed to read a Russian book? You’d think the Russian princess would be urged to read Russian literature.” he stepped in front of her, picking her chin and raising her head slightly to allow him to look deep into her fawn-like eyes. “Because of the ending...And the controversial decisions Anna made, some of them even contradictory to her own beliefs, and yet, she made her own decisions, at some point in her life. When your fate is decided from before you are born, having opinions is the worst enemy of a puppeteer...Wouldn’t you agree?” she muttered, walking away from him, taking her nightgown and walking towards her bathroom.

This made the man think more about how dysfunctional this supposed perfect royal family actually was. The illusion of a flawless individual, living together, forming a flawless family, a flawless life, in a flawless palace.

Perhaps facades aren’t as obvious to see through, or understand, for while the parents are completely bland...This girl...So much potential locked away in a timid chest of massive oak wood, embellished with overly expensive jewellery, clearly unwanted. She could be a genius, shining in her happiness, glowing like her dazzling smile, and yet, there she is, eclipsed by chaff, when she could be burning brighter than the morning Sun.

Those parents of hers think he wants to be here and get dazzled by the infinite stream of diamonds that keep flowing around the whole place - And yet, perhaps they are the ones living in mental poverty, considering they believe financial wealth and fame is the sole reason for being alive - To uphold a certain kind of status that they worked naught for, but received hereditary, from one lazy deadbeat to yet another generation of useless people for this society.

They truly are like the plague, incredibly rare nowadays, but completely fatal once you fall grasp to their dark claws that drag you to hell to succumb to their completely fictional utopian world that they create only amongst themselves, as if whatever lives beyond these golden walls is putrid and deserves to rot to pieces.

As his mind wandered farther and farther away down the country, snowy roads he created with his own imagination of thoughts, he heard the bathroom door softly open, and the angelic creature garbed in a thin - Possibly silk, snow white nightgown - Stepped back into their now shared room, and just as before, her demeanour resembled that of a small, frightened fawn, or a bunny.

When you have to deal with such a pure being that could completely shatter, it’s difficult not to impulsively break down all walls around and snatch her away - It’s close to impossible not to attempt to test all existing boundaries and see the limits where she would break...Or, almost, at least.

However, abstinence makes for a great suspense and greed...You want more...And more...And the more you wait, the harder it is to resist, but the satisfaction you get when the frail creature trusts you enough to eat from your own palm, and you finally claim it as yours...

It’s Heavenly.

“Sweet Dreams, Fyodor.” she spoke softly, putting on a Tchaikovsky vinyl and picking up a book, getting in bed and reading it, the only light still open being a dim lantern on her nightstand. “How would you like to show me around the city tomorrow?” the brunet asked so casually that it shocked the girl enough to drop her book on her lap. “O-Oh...U-Uhmm...I’m not exactly to go out of this place unless it’s for Christmas shopping...I’m sorry I can’t properly do as you wish...” she quickly took her book back, hiding her face to hide her embarrassment and disappointment. “Well, then, what a gorgeous coincidence, isn’t it? In barely two months, Christmas shall come, and then, you can properly show me around, correct?” the man mused, the ghost of a smirk playing on his face. “..You’re right! My, you’ll get to see the beautiful fairy light and Christmas decorations all around the city! I can’t believe it, you truly chose the perfect time to come here. Oh, and, the ballet, the opera and the national orchestra are going to perform...I believe The Nutcracker is going to play this year...And Traviata. It should be beautiful, don’t you agree?” Y/N asked with a soft smile on her face, sparks gleaming in her eyes, and for the first time since he’s met her, it felt like she was finally alive. “Yes, yes, I would have to agree. And if you are there with me, the experience will be even better.” he hummed, teasing the poor girl who had no idea what else to say to such bold affirmations. “O-Oh...W-Well...Th-Thank you...I-I think...Your presence there will also make the going out more interesting...And nice.” she offered a comeback that pleased the man well enough. “Good night to you as well, Printsessa.”

What a lovely young woman, he thought, as he closed his eyes and let his mind fly at different aspects of life and of humanity, trying to decipher each and every person he met that day and wondering if his assumptions were correct, as they always are.

Morning came by faster than expected as a shy ray of of Sun creeped inside the room through the window, but Fyodor was already awake, writing at the desk rather rapidly - Most likely, he had some inspiration hitting him, so he proceeded to pour out his conflicting thoughts on the paper, all while stealing a peek from time to time at the girl sleeping peacefully, almost as if she was a Disney Princess.

The way the soft light caressed her face had him take the stray streak of h/c hair and pull it back so it won’t tickle her awake, while also being allowed to watch her peacefully inhale and exhale, a small smile on her face...Perhaps she was having a beautiful dream? Was that why she told him to have sweet dreams? Were her dreams her only lovely escape from this horrible reality she was forced to live in?

There were so many mysteries yet to be unveiled, but all in due time, as Fyodor noticed the gentle flutter of her lashes, and with a grace only reserved to a Swan Princess, she raised and stretched with a sweet hum, and the brunet man watched as his eyes felt absolutely blessed seeing such a beauty...

If people complained that Disney Princesses weren’t relatable, since they have messy hair when they wake up, just like Anna, they clearly haven’t seen how perfect Y/N looks, even as she blinks her sleepiness away.

“I see you slept well, Printsessa. Good morning.” she heard him speak, and she noticed it wasn’t as en garde and...It almost seemed...Pleased to see her. “Fyodor...You woke up before me. You should have woke me up. Please wake me up next time, I wouldn’t want you to feel lonely or upset. This place is like a piranha tank...Thread carefully, otherwise, you’re like a little animal who fell in.” she quickly got up, rushing through her daily routine so she could be by his side, not only because her parents assigned her to that, but also because this Dostoevsky man is the only little thing that could rip her out of her completely dull routine and show her a little bit of insight into what could be something out of her imagination entirely. “Aww, the little songbird wishes to spend time with me, how adorable. Very well, Printsessa, what is it that you want to do today? My job here is to observe and write, after all.” he asked, crossing one leg over the other, resting his chin on his fist, watching her with intense interest. “Oh, well, I have to practice the piano today, but other than that, I have nothing in my schedule.” she explained, guiding him to the music room that very much resembled a whole orchestra surrounding a place - Not too small, yet not too big either - Meant for ballroom dancing. “I bet the national orchestra isn’t as fancy as this place is.” he mused, walking up to the cello and tracing his fingertips across the chords. “...Do you know how to play it?” she asked, walking up to him, having the curiosity of a baby fawn exploring the world. “Would you like to hear?” he asked, sitting on the chair and expertly hugging the cello, he grabbed the bow and teased the girl with a mischievous look in his gleaming purple eyes. “Oh, yes, please, if it’s not too much to ask! It would be absolutely splendid.” Y/N clasped her hands together, grinning widely as she stepped a few feet away to give him enough space so he could start playing. “It would be my pleasure, Printsessa.” and with the nod of his head, he started playing the famous Sugar plum fairy song, making the girl gasp in surprise at how gorgeous it sounded.

She crouched to reach the perfect eye view of the bow gliding along the chords, her mouth slightly agape and she gazed with absolute wonder, not even realising when the song was over, for she was much too mesmerised.

“Well, Printsessa, how did you like it?” he rested his arms on the curves of the cello, leaning forwards for a better look at her. “That was better than even our national cello player! It was absolutely stunning, woaw...Just...You left me speechless! You’re...You’re...You are...Perfectly splendid!” she clapped for him rapidly and incredibly enthusiastic, making him chuckle in amusement at her cuteness. “Why, thank you, Printsessa. How about you entertain me now, little Anicyka Maya?” he carefully put the Cello in its place, stepping in front of her and caressing her porcelain skin, quenching his thirst for discovery by seeing her rosy cheeks. “Well...I can’t say I’m anywhere as great as you are...But, sure. I hope you will like it.” she looked down, fidgeting with her fingers as she hurried timidly to the piano, and taking a deep breath, cracking her fingers, she liter her fingers skillfully dance over the keys, as her voice followed every word of the song called “Katyusha”. However, she wasn’t expecting him to applaud and whistle to her, congratulating her for being such a beautiful nightingale. “You clearly underestimate your hard work and talent. Perhaps we should play together one day. I’m sure it would put a smile on your parents’ faces.” Fyodor bowed to kiss Y/N’s hand, only to hear the door opening. “Yes, Mr. Fyodor, we would quite like to hear the two of you dueting together. Since Y/N will have to perform both dance and a song at the piano, as a Christmas tradition, it will show how much she’s improved...If at all. I have to tell you the truth, Mr. Fyodor, over the past few years, she has been exceptionally disappointing...Well, perhaps you coming here will prove to give her a jolt in the right direction.” Y/N’s mother came out of nowhere in the music room, almost as if she was stalking the pair, and Fyodor could see how the Princess’ behaviour changed 180 degrees, and from the excitable and lively young girl, she went back to hide in her guarded shell, trying to protect herself from the numerous blows everyone throws her way.

And just as he expected, once they started playing, despite throwing in one or two intentional mistakes, while she had none of her own, the mother reprimanded her daughter, while praising him. He thought, at first, this was going to be some kind of tough love encouragement and determination she was trying to give the girl, but truly, it was nothing more than unrealistic dreams of an already flawless performance.

This family was nowhere close to being the perfect, or the most loving one, that was without a doubt. But being so horrible to your own daughter, humiliating her in front of a complete stranger, making her tremble softly while trying her best to keep herself from bursting into sobbing fits, was a whole different kind of cruel and unnecessary malice.

For some reason, Fyodor felt a certain kind of warmth in his chest...But not the same kind of warmth he feels when he is around Y/N, but something...Similar to fury. To rage. He was sure he never felt such a personal sort of offense, despite not being him that was belittled.

A terrifying sort of justice bubbled inside him, and he smirked, thinking about just one sole thing.

Crime and Punishment.

Fyodor hoped dearly that it would be only the maternal figure that was the problem, yet it seemed to be much worse, and the toxicity levels that kept vibing all over the place seemed to be equivalent to that of Chernobyl at the time of the explosion.

All throughout the week, he noticed the dirty looks all the staff was giving the Princess, possibly because she was being a shy and quiet pushover...But it went completely beyond his understanding how these servants would even dare be so rude to her, considering she is always so sweet to them, always forgives their mistakes and shares her whole allowance with them in equal parts...

But they complain it’s not enough. They complain others get more, or less, but clearly, they don’t care about that, they just want more and more money...They are greedy jackals who don’t care about the life or soul of a poor little lady who just wants to be happy...

But perhaps happiness isn’t meant for royalty.

A week until Christmas, and Fyodor was ready with the quick draft, and he left it on the desk for Y/N to read, and he couldn’t help but admire and drink in each and every emotion she would express on her lovely face with every word she read, every action, every chapter that stirred more and more conflicting feelings and thoughts battling together - Conflicts that she was trying so hard to hide, no doubt feeling his burning, hawk-like stare on her, analysing her as if she was a new specimen under a microscope.

She was great at hiding what she truly felt, yet her eyes betrayed her inner self, the sparkling of nostalgia and sadness crawling out, shrieking at the top of her lungs to be discovered and taken out of this well of darkness she was drowning in - She wanted to be saved, she was at her breaking point, and clearly, she was afraid.

Afraid of life. Afraid of people. Afraid of her family. Afraid of this society. Afraid her own self. Afraid of her actions.

And most of all.

She was afraid of spiritual, mental and emotional imprisonment.

As Christmas approached with rapid footsteps, Fyodor could notice how Y/N stiffer, more silent, flinching more, keeping herself in check, alone, barely speaking to anyone...Clearly, she was being stressed out and afraid of the consequences of screwing up anything.

Perhaps, the problem here was the fatalist and completely out of her control destiny she was thrown in, and she knew from the very beginning that, no matter how flawless her performance was, she would still be reprimanded and punished, so she resigned herself to this kind of treatment...The same as every year.

“It’s so beautiful outside...And it’s snowing...! So soft and cold...It’s almost numbing you entirely, but the beauty of Christmas still melts down even the most frozen of hearts.” she spoke with such sadness dripping from her tongue, that Fyodor felt the need to take his fur hat and put it on her head before taking a hold of both of her hands, rubbing them together and kissing her knuckles. “It’s not the day or the decorations that are supposed to move a person, but the kindness and altruism of people. From what I’ve seen in the past weeks, the only consistency in this place is the beauty of your heart and the cruelty of everyone else that keep eclipsing you. You deserve better than this, kroshka.” the man spoke simply, waiting to see the way she’d react. “...I didn’t choose this life, nor did it choose me, yet here I am, trying to keep my head above the water in a whirlpool. I have all my life planned and written ahead of me, and there’s nothing I can do about it. From the very beginning, since before I was even born, they knew they will sell me out to some old, rich man, just so they could benefit, but they cared naught about my well-being, as long as I could keep him entertained in any way possible. The least I can do is try to enjoy the little things...Even if they are nothing more than just that...Little things.” she admits to him, taking away her hands and holding them to her chest, too afraid to trust her own heart. “You let the servants make a mockery out of your kindness. You let your family humiliate you in front of everyone. You let common folk bash you, even if you tip them greatly...Tell me, krasotka, have you read the draft to my book yet?” they continued to stroll down the cobbled streets, looking up at the snowflakes gently dancing in the light of the lamposts, as Fyodor carried most of her shopping bags that held Christmas gifts for everyone but herself. “Yes...I did...But I did not finish it. I was much too afraid to read the ending of it.” she nodded to him, biting her lip nervously. “Afraid? Why ever would you be afraid of reading some words made of ink on a piece of paper?” the man frowned in confusion and interest, hearing such a peculiarity of an answer. “Because...Because I know that Prince Myshkin actually represents me...And how life treats me...So I’m afraid the ending will hint to Anna Karenina’s ending...And I don’t want that. I don’t...That’s why I’m afraid...I’m scared that...I’m scared that I won’t be able to endure this madness anymore, and sooner, rather than later, I will shatter into an unrecognisable version of myself that not even I will decipher...And I will do scary things that I would otherwise be afraid of even thinking about. You know I read the book, I wouldn’t put it past you to tease me like that.” she smiled ironically, shaking her head to stop herself from shuddering at such a dreadful thought. “Congratulations, Printsessa, you are surely insightful. However, I must advise you to read it, and keep in mind that you are not entirely wrong in your thinking. While the ending isn’t identical to Tolstoy’s novel, it isn’t on the complete opposite spectrum either. What you read is one of the possible outcomes of your life, should you choose to remain a passive onlooker and let everyone control you, like a little, pretty doll. Should you, however, choose to take fate into your own hands and finally make your first choice of your life...I can promise you, you are going to be much happier.” Fyodor kissed her forehead before leading her back to the palace so she could take the day off...For tomorrow, she must perform.

But the author wasn’t lying, Y/N realised as she spent the last hours past curfew to finish the book, and she realised that while Myshkin didn’t kill himself, he was still dead inside, and just like the catatonic state he was stuck into, she has been living a life of complete comatose herself. Fyodor was right all along - A life without choices is not a life, nor is it one without freedom and happiness - And maybe, for the first time in her life, she would make the most difficult decision the universe threw at her, and that was to choose between Duty and Happiness, something every royal member, especially women all over the world, who were seen as nothing more than political and decorative objects meant to create heirs and nothing more, had to pick, and dutifully chose to sacrifice themselves to keep the family and the nobility going.

But not anymore....

“You look beautiful today, my little zaika. This velvet colour of your dress, the way it highlights you stunning silhouette...And this jewellery...And your hair and make up...You are above and beyond the most beautiful person to ever grace this life. How are you going to enchant us today?” Fyodor pat down his white suit so he would look completely impeccable...Or, perfectly splendid, as Y/N would say. “Does it truly matter, in the end? Nobody but you will pay attention, and at the end of the day, I will only hear critiques. It’s the same every year, so there is no point in bothering to stand out, have any particularity or give a name. It just...Is. So...Let me get this over with so I can go to my room and pretend this day never happened...Again.” she muttered, hooking her arm to his, entering the big ballroom together.

A ton of people were there, not only family, but enough family ‘friends’, all of them incredibly rich, with a combined fortune great enough to buy the whole Russia somehow...And all eyes were on her. She didn’t mind. She was used to the nervousness and the either critical or lustful stares she received - But only during these kinds of events, and because she was a Princess, otherwise nobody would have cared about her existence or her feelings...

Nobody...Except for Fyodor.

Until the time of his arrival, nobody cared about her, nor did they bother trying to understand or talk to her, and yet, here he was, always by her side, and frankly, she fell in love with him. She, for the first time in her life, cared naught about everything surrounding her, and she thought solely about him and their time spent together. That is all that mattered to her.

So, with that in mind, and a warm heart, she performed the Waltz of Flowers flawlessly at the piano, along with a few other songs, adding some festive ones. Fyodor was absolutely captivated by the spells she put on people whenever she radiated with such pure gentleness, just like Christmas’ true angel.

Her fingers glided so gracefully over the keys, as she hummed along the music, not even bothering to look at the sheet, for she new everything by heart - But somehow, it all sounded even more magical than before, and nobody could tell why.

But Fyodor knew, and he smiled, figuring out her trick. And he was going to call her out for that when this whole charade was over. But for now, he allowed himself to enjoy bathing in her radiating warmth, for she was shining brighter than the Sun itself.

By the time she finished her little repertoire, she did a pretty courtesy and walked to the man in the white suit, taking a glass of red wine and sipping from it, that gentle smile never leaving her face.

They exchanged no words, but there was no need for that, as the look in their eyes spoke more than anything else, and they danced the night away, together, in graceful and intimate waltzes, or swaying together, keeping their hearts glued together, beating in sync and feeling each other’s heat.

She might not have wanted to end up like Karenina, but she wasn’t too far away from her situation, and she knew very well, should she leave with this man, she was going to break down every rule, and find an identity for herself, after all these years.

But happiness is emphemeral in the life of a Princess, and just before the Christmas Ball ended, her parents dragged her to the table of this old man, so they would share gifts. This old man, who so happened to be the man chosen to be her future husband, and had fewer hairs on his head and teeth in his mouth than her age.

Most of the gifts were pretty basic - Jewellery for women, cigars, fedoras, watches for men...But for her...She received some of he oddest gifts so far - And yet, she thought life couldn’t surprise her anymore.

Several little outfits, fit for babies, were neatly folded in all boxes, sans one - The sole box being a small, velvet box, which revealed a sapphire ring that expressed the definite bond of marriage that must be officiated very soon, through papers and a church ceremony.

Frozen was the clock, frozen was the time, and frozen was life itself, for the shock was great - Being put on the spot is scarier than the anticipation and fear of venturing into the unknown - Yet here she was, with her supposed fossil of a husband, with several babies promised to be born, and a very angry author, watching the disgusting exchange of pleasantries between the elder people.

He noticed Y/N doing a little courtesy, excusing herself with a nervous smile, and rushing out of the ballroom, the clicks of her elegant heels giving away her location at all time. Following her, he saw her on the edge of the rood, barefoot, her back to the empty space, as she hummed, looking up at the clouds pouring snow, and swaying to her tippy toes occasionally.

“You sure like the feeling of being alive, don’t you? Otherwise you wouldn’t be staying there after being faced with such a disgusting situation.” he pointed out, clasping his hands behind his back and carefully stepped towards her. “Life is full of surprises. But it is not called life, unless you have a say in the paths that you go down by. Today, I realised what I have to do in order to achieve true bliss and happiness...Something ethereal, although utopian in its quintessence. I have to make a choice. And right now, I’m making it.” she smiled, extending her arms to the side, resembling a Goddess, as a few stray tears streamed down her face - But they were tears of relief, not of fear, anxiety of depression. She was happy. “You said you didn’t want to choose the path of Karenina, nor of Myshkin, and yet, there you are, on the brink of death, as the way to show that you are no longer a caged bird. Is it truly worth it, in the end?” Fyodor asked, frowning at the delusional words she was spewing. “Death is but the beginning of a new adventure, and with me falling, I will find out what freedom is, unlike all the other Princesses before me. It is not death I’m choosing, nor will I regret it as soon as I step into this free fall hazard, like Karenina, and, as you can see, I chose to wake up from my catatonic state, unlike Myshkin. I know what awaits me as soon as I reach the ground...But do you?” Y/N hummed in amusement, watching the conflict painted all over his face - And it was for the first time that Fyodor showed such confusion and inner turmoil, that much was obvious to her. “Stop this, Y/N, I don’t understand your reasoning, but don’t kill yourse- “ but he couldn’t finish his sentence, for the girl uttered just a few words - Words that changed even the rotation of the Earth around the Sun - And as she pushed herself on the tips of her toes, she embraced the cold wind of Winter being her guide down to the ground, as she watched the snowflakes following her down.

And she smiled.

Because love won, and life won, and she knew she chose correct - These weren’t the times to choose everyone else over herself anymore, and nor is she a saint, a martyr, an angel, or some perfect Christian role model. She was just a woman thirsting for happiness and for the tangible sensation of life and of flying, and with this jump, she got completely wasted.

The secure embrace of a white angel made sure she lived for another day, but not quite, for her guardian angel jumped to save her, yet had no idea himself that he wasn’t the only special one, after all, and just as they were going to reach the ground, time seemed to stop, and they reached the ground gracefully and softly, like two linked feathers.

She lay down on the crystal blanket of snow, laughing mirthfully, almost with a childlike charm, as her long hair was sprawled all over her, and Fyodor’s arms were fiercely holding her, and he looked down at her, his eyes wide in understanding.

“I didn’t choose death. I chose life. I chose love...I chose you, and I chose me. I knew you had an ability too, and that you were confident in it, so I was sure that, should you choose to, you could jump from the roof of the palace to save me - Which you did. I never really have the opportunity to use my ability, but it’s rather useful in some situations, if I can say so myself. So, by the way you’d respond to my feelings and actions, I’d know whether I chose right or not...I think we both know the answer now, don’t we?” she grinned mischievously, extending a hand to his face to caress it gently. “That’s the most idiotic, most reckless thing anyone has ever one...And yet, you strategised everything, as if we were pieces in a game of chess. How did you get the courage to reach such a conclusion?” his voice was low, like a murmur, trying to understand her impossible, labyrinthine mind. “Life offered me a Christmas gift today, and that was serendipity, so, I used it. Everything else was a perfect strategy of a game of chess I played myself - The White King versus the Black King - And, was far as my luck and the universe brought about, I believe I won. But you must still answer back, otherwise, the magic will vanish.” Fyodor noticed a smirk growing on her face - One that somehow resembled his, and he almost felt conflicted seeing her mimicking him in his demeanour, in a way...But he also felt incredibly proud. “I cannot take you with me, Y/N. The part I walk is dangerous, it could even be fatal, and I would rather you not walk down a boulevard of broken dreams. You just now achieved happiness, don’t throw it out of the window. It a world full of crimes, I choose to be both the justiciar and the executioner of the unworthy. In a world of crime, I shall inflict punishment upon the evil-doers and paint this world red with the blood of the guilty.” he wanted her, he truly didn’t want to leave without her, nor did he want to leave her alone, here, with these hyenas, but could he really have it in his heart to endanger her so? “Fyodor, my darling, it matters naught for me whether I live or die, as long as the journey is by your side, and I’m not shackled anymore. I want to see, I want to hear, I want to touch, I want to taste, I want to smell, I want to learn. Everything. Without exception. There is a whole world out there, open, waiting to be explored and unveiled, and I shall be its explorer. As long as I have you by my side, I will surely be fearless. Being a hero, being a villain, or anything in between is of no concern for me...However, I cannot deny that I would be rather...Interested in seeing you deliver the sentence down to...Some specific people.” she giggled, winking at him, as she obviously hinted towards her kin and the unlimited amount of gossips she has heard about so many people, over the years.

With a wide smirk on his face, Fyodor Dostoevsky helped Princess Y/N on her feet and gave her a passionate, fire-like kiss, before picking her up bridal style and making their way to her room, so she would start packing and leave at the earliest convenience.

There may still be a bit of official work to do at the palace, and as his ability is called, there is no crime without punishment, he was going to make sure of that. Until then, there was one thing certain, and one alone, that was going to guide the both of them to a path of exciting uncertainty and thrill.

“I love you, my dear Y/N.”

#bsd fyodor #bsd anime #bsd #bsd x reader #bsd imagine #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs imagine #bungou stray dogs #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor dostoevsky imagine #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor dostoevsky #bungou stray dogs fyodor #bungou stray dogs fyodor x reader

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thelaithlyworm · 2 years

Text

Lost Tomb Rewatch

Now up to ep 17 of Sound of Providence, because, uh, it turned into a marathon.

The first time I watched this, I had absolutely no idea who the guy in the pink shirt on the train was, though he seemed nice. Now my reaction is: LITTLE FLOWER, I LOVE YOU LITTLE FLOWER, SO ELEGANT, SO SUAVE, HERE TO LOOK AFTER BLACK GLASSES’S LITTLE DUCKLING AND LOOK COOL WHILE HE’S DOING IT.

So context is kinda cool.

Also, it occurred to me why Wu Xie is so desperate to prove that 3rd Uncle was a decent-ish man with regards to the South Sea King’s Tomb and Thunder City, when ‘lying, manipulative rat-bastard’, ‘oh god it’s 3rd Uncle’, and, ‘sure the Mystic Nine produced some monsters but that guy was a piece of work’ are more accurate descriptors of the man as he most often appeared in earlier stories.

And it’s not just the general, drama-specific ‘But Of Course We Respect Archaeology, Look At Us Handing Over Relics And Getting Dig Permits Like Respectable Citizens’ gloss over the seedy crime-vibe of the main story.

This stuff with the thunder? A lot of it happened before 3rd Uncle went down to the Shipwreck Tomb at Xisha and, er, had some formative life experiences. Came back a changed man, you might say.

Wu Xie wants the 3rd Uncle of his childhood to have been the hero he remembered.

There’s just. There’s just a lot to unpack there.

Honestly, even with everything Wu Xie’s been through, that ‘Mr Naive’ nickname... kinda works.

Also, I just took a good look at how his family name is written, and in Simplified Chinese that sure looks like the radicals for ‘mouth’ and ‘heaven’ and it’s looking a bit on the nose considering all the talking-thunder elements here.

Ooh... another cameo from A-Tou, the tattoo artist, fine arts expert, maker of skin masks, and practicing doctor of the franchise.

The first time I watched this I had no idea who she was - just another colourful side character filling out the setting.

But in webnovel territory she has a fairly lengthy side story with weird doomy shit, negotiating the bonds of family, recovering from injury, living with the permanent marks of recovering from injury, weird complicated doomy love. Her introduction, there’s a note on her tattoo parlour door, Thank you for helping me regain my body’s sovereignty, and she does that, in things large and small.

So this cameo is like meeting an old friend.

AND WAREHOUSE 11 HAS ENTERED THE STORY.

(The drama version is so much cooler than, ‘this place my 2nd Uncle owns’. Drama Warehouse 11 has scope and layers and efficient security systems. It is an institution to be wooed.)

#the lost tomb #dmbj #reunion: the sound of providence

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gottawriteanegoortwo · 3 years

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Modern AU - Get the Mayor a Damn Dog

What started as me trying to explain to some friends why I’m giving Mayor Damien in a Modern AU a dog ran off and had a life of its own.

For context, Modern Damien (as I write it) is part of a failed ‘second cycle’ of the WKM events. When the barrier broke after the ‘Damien’ short, pieces of the characters trapped within were sent out to be ‘reborn’ in a modern world. This means that while Damien exists because Dark is made from pieces of the twins, William doesn’t since Wilford is him. But since there were enough differences, Damien (and Celine, don’t worry!) gets the peaceful life he deserved all along.

This, coincidently, is the first time Wilford has met Damien (in some time, he thinks). What better way to do so than by deciding Damien should get a dog?

Word Count: 2,259 (hence the read-more)

If there was one thing to know about the city’s mayor, it was that he wanted a dog.

(And a family, but one thing at a time.)

It came up in several interviews, and various photoshoots included him posing with dogs. Some well-meaning patrons tried to gift him a dog - in other words, drop a dog at his door without any warning - but Damien was fortunate enough to have interceded before anything actually happened. For Damien, this would be a massive decision, and he wanted the choice in when and how it happened. In fact, it was why he didn’t have a dog to this point. With how busy the City Hall was, he couldn’t justify having a dog cooped up in an apartment all day. It might be spacious, it’d be heartless, and why have a dog for the bragging rights? What about the pet’s own life?

It made the days lonely and quiet sometimes, but Damien knew it was for the best. At least it started a running gag of friends giving him dog themed items for birthdays and other occasions that were dotted around his home. One such afternoon had him dusting some items, only for a porcelain dog figure to be dislodged and fall to the ground.

“Whoa there! Don’t wanna lose this pretty thin’, eh?” Damien could only watch with a bewildered expression as a man with a pink moustache who wasn’t there before caught the figurine and neatly returned it to its place. “Looks as expensive as everythin’ else here. Musta cost a pretty penny!”

“Uh, I - hold on a moment. Where did you even come from?” Damien knew the front door was locked. The balcony would be an option for only the fool who would want to climb seven stories. The intruder mimicked Damien’s action of blankly looking around like he was also looking for an answer.

“Yer totally Mark’s friend, right?”

“Answer my question. How did you get in here?” Damien put the duster down, glaring at the stranger. When nothing happened, he gave a slow sigh. “I don’t know. ‘Mark’ is a common name. I know a few people with that name. Can you give better clarification?”

“Good answer! He’s a little shorter than you?” No reaction. The stranger pursed his lips, making his moustache wiggle in thought. “He makes videos fer th’ internet?” That, luckily, helped Damien put the pieces together.

“I’ve been friends with him for years, nearly since we were kids. So now can you please tell me who you are, how you got in here, and what any of this has to do with Mark?”

“Wilford Warfstache, reporter extraordinaire at yer service!” Wilford gave a dramatic, swooping bow. “I actually went ta yer office, but ya weren’t there. Th’ security fella that found me informed that it’s actually Sunday an’ no one works in th’ buildin’ that day. So then I came here, an’ here ya are! Well done fer not working!” He finished with a dramatic ‘ta-dah’ pose, complete with jazz hands. But when Damien didn’t clap, Wilford’s pose deflated (complete with sound effects that came out of nowhere). “C’mon, Dames, I didn’t even get lost. That’s a good thing fer me.” Damien pressed two fingers against his temple as he tried to follow what was going on.

“I’m going to let most of that slide, but why did you call me ‘Dames’?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“For one, it’s a nickname that only my oldest friends use.”

“Aren’t we?” Damien opened his mouth to refute the bizarre question, only to notice the genuine confusion on the other’s face. One moment, Wilford acted like they were strangers, and the next gathered they were old friends in his mind? It was a rather worrying state of affairs, but it was better to not correct him just yet.

“So, Mr Warfstache, what brings you here?” Damien clasped his hands behind his back, steeling himself for some terrible news. He had heard rumours of Mark being linked with some malicious, shadowy entity. Was this related to that? What rabbit-hole had he been pulled into? Wilford appeared lost at the question, looking around until -

“Oh yeah! It’s ‘cause yer cooped up in here all th’ time. Ya need ta get out more, talk ta people, see more things! But most of all, ya need some sorta company, an’ - wait!” Damien had turned and stormed off to find his phone. “C’mon, Dames, y’ve been like this fer years! It’s not gonna kill ya ta live a little fer once.”

“And what do you know about that? You don’t know me as well as you think you do.” Damien held the phone up as a warning. “I will call the police if you keep this up.”

“Poppycock. I’m tryin’ ta help. What part of that aren’t ya seein’? Yer a man who’s obsessed with puttin’ himself last. Anythin’ that can pull yer attention from work for a split second is somethin’ ya don’t get involved with! How long are ya gonna keep not livin’ fer?”

“What I do is none of your damn business! I know the importance of my work!”

“An’ what other man in yer position would throw his life away? Any other Mayor would have a romantic partner or family who’d be there no matter what. They’d juggle everythin’ because that’s what people do! Yer not ‘sposed to be some machine who works an’ does nothin’ else!”

“But that is what I want to do! I promised to give this city my all. I’m not backing down on this.” Wilford’s hand twitched, like he was about to grab something, but he forced himself to stop. Instead, he took a heavy, slow breath. The moustache was peppered with short, black strands of hair.

“An’ neither am I. I’m not lettin’ ya throw yer life away again because yer a fuckin’ moron. No. We’re goin’. Now. Get yer fuckin’ coat.”

“Are you listening to yourself right now? You break into my home through whatever illogical technique, complain about how I choose to live my life, and now you’re trying to bring me somewhere? You’d be mad to think I’d go anywhere with you!” Damien took a nervous step back as Wilford gave a resigned laugh.

“Mad, ya say? Wouldn’t be th’ first ta say that, an’ ya won’t be th’ last.” His head lowered at the confession. A few seconds passed before he returned his gaze to Damien with a sigh. Unlike before, it was a more sober look. “I’m not seein’ ya waste away ta be nothin’ again. All I ask is that ya come with me ta look at dogs. That’s all.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all. Ya always said ya wanted one an’ never got one ‘cause of work. But folks love dogs! Bet we could find a little one that’ll be great in an office an’ a small apartment. Like… Like one of these!” Wilford hurried to the couch to snatch up a cushion and excitedly point to one of the printed dogs. Whatever black was in the moustache had disappeared when he turned to Damien.

“You… Do realise that’s a Great Dane, yes? The complete opposite of what you just said.”

“An’ that’s why I didn’t pick a dog! Yer th’ expert outta th’ two of us! C’mon!”

Despite the tense first meeting, Damien found Wilford to be a surprisingly pleasant companion. Eccentric, yet bubbly. He had a colourful view on the world, and it wasn’t long before Damien could see why Wilford was confused on knowing Damien. They got along like a house on fire, or like friends who were simply catching up after years apart. Wilford told him about his reporting job in a TV studio, various other quirky friends he had (though photographs were needed to remind Wilford of names), and the connection between himself and Mark.

Time seemed to pass both too quickly and slowly by the time the pair arrived at the local pound. Damien had tried to talk Wilford out of this idea, but the other was indeed too stubborn to change his mind. The staff welcomed the pair in and allowed them to see the dogs that were looking for forever homes. Damien had to remind Wilford twice that a small dog was what he wanted.

(“But Dames! Look at her pudgy face!”

“Wilford, she’d need a garden as big as my entire apartment to run around in.”)

They eventually split up so Damien could walk around and see if there were any suitable candidates to bring home without running commentary from Wilford. So many dogs were lively and friendly, but far too energetic for an apartment life or would be better suited to homes with children. Despite coming to the realisation that this was the wasted trip he knew it would be, he let himself have the chance to enjoy meeting some dogs. He was reading the information on some spaniel puppies when he felt eyes on him. Damien lifted his gaze to the corridor to find he was alone. As he turned to determine where the feeling of being watched came from, he found a dog in the den directly behind him staring attentively in his direction like it was on guard. It was a corgi, and Damien guessed it was a tricolour: predominantly black with sharply defined tan markings around his shoulders, eyes and muzzle. Unlike most corgis Damien saw on Crufts, the fur was longer and fluffier.

“What’s got you on high alert, buddy?” Damien lifted the information clipboard to skim for a warning on a vicious temperament. To his relief, it was the opposite. The corgi was approximately two years old, had high stamina but was mainly calm and observant. True to the notes, the dog approached the perspex door, sitting in front of it as he watched Damien. “Or are you making sure I don’t cause trouble… Soldier? An unusual name.”

“He’s a stray,” one of the volunteers explained as they closed the storage door with the back of their foot, arms laden with a large sack of dog food. “He was found at the local army base after trying to herd some of the soldiers that were training, which is where we got the name from. It’s strange… He’s a purebred, yet there’s no chip, no alert of a missing dog anywhere in the state or in neighbouring states… Nothing. Anyone that wanted to adopt him couldn’t get him to come anywhere near them. Aside from any of us who bring him food, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Soldier get this close to anyone.”

“That is… Rather unusual for such a social breed,” Damien hummed in agreement. “I read up on them before when first checking what breeds might suit an apartment life, yet... I wouldn’t have expected to find one here.”

“It might be fate, Mister Mayor. It’s happened a few times here before. Why don’t you say hello?” Without waiting for an answer, the volunteer skirted around Damien. There was a little struggle with the weight of the sack, but they successfully opened the upper half of the door. For a moment, he considered refusing the offer, but decided otherwise. A hand was cautiously lowered to pet the dog on the top of the head. Instead, Soldier pulled back so he could sniff the hand like he had the final say in whether the interaction was allowed. Once satisfied, he bumped the top of his head against Damien’s hand.

“Oh my God. That’s the first time he’s let anyone pet him without a bribe of food,” whispered the intern. “This is like a Disney movie. You need to take him home with you. I don’t think you’re gonna find a better suited dog. Soldier is always watching and paying attention to what goes on. We have a kit that’d help you care for him, if that’s a worry. But you spend time with him and make the choice for yourself. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” The volunteer hurried off with the sack in their arms, leaving Damien alone. Once the coast was clear, Damien sighed and knelt down.

“This is all quite a rush, isn’t it? We’ve barely met and now I’m being told to bring you home. I’m sure you don’t want to be stuck with a boring man like me. I work in one room nearly all day, and I don’t have a garden. I’m sure you understand that I’m not the home you deserve.” Soldier cocked his head to the left as Damien spoke, responding with a low bark. “I’m not entirely sure whether that’s in agreement or disagreement, I’m afraid. I don’t speak dog. And I doubt you can speak human either.” To Damien’s surprise, Soldier gave another bark, before rising up and crossing his space to pick up a chewed-up teddy bear. Upon his return, he placed his front paws on the perspex to offer the bear to Damien.

“Is this for me? She’s a pretty little lady, isn’t she? Even if her dress is a little tattered.” Taking the toy, Damien once again attempted to pat Soldier’s head with the other hand. This time, Soldier accepted, allowing Damien to properly pet him.

This was how Wilford and the shelter volunteer found them several minutes. The volunteer was mid-brag about how they knew it was a match made in heaven, and Wilford was quick to agree.

“He’s a handsome little fella, huh? Ya look fairly smitten, Dames.” Wilford slapped Damien’s shoulder with a grin.

“I think I might look into the adoption process… But if I do, I’m changing his name. ‘Soldier’ doesn’t suit him. He deserves a name that’s more intelligent. I’m thinking… Barnum. It rather suits such a bright-eyed fellow, don’t you think?”

#writersofmark #mayor damien #Wilford Warfstache #(I mean I'm not expecting anyone to actually read this)#(it's a long-winded headcanon story but I'm sure someone will enjoy my attempt to write a dog xD)#Blue Soul (Damien)#Rose Petals (Wilford)#(read-more is for tidiness! :D )

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vitanitf · 3 years

Photo

BASIC QUESTIONS

First name? “Vitani.”

Surname? “Leu.”

Middle names? “Alala.”

Nicknames? “V.”

Date of birth? “August 20th, 1998.”

Age? “Twenty two.”

PHYSICAL / APPEARANCE

Height? “5′4.”

Weight? “121 pounds.”

Build? “Athletic.”

Hair color? “Pink right now.”

Hair style? “Buzzcut.”

Eye color? “Brown.”

Eye shape? “Shit, I don’t know. Deep set?”

Glasses or contact lenses? “I wasn’t born with no weak ass eyes.”

Distinguishing facial features? “Freckles.”

Which facial feature is most prominent? “My jawline.”

Which bodily feature is most prominent? “While I’d love to say my ass, I think it would be my arms.”

Other distinguishing features? “A shit ton of little scars.”

Skin? “Light.”

Hands? “Strong.”

Make up? “I do eyes and lips, that’s all. Eyeliner, lipstick. Eyeshadow and mascara if I’m feeling frisky.”

Scars? “Trust me, honey, someone like me has a lot of those.”

Birthmarks? “Wouldn’t you like to see?”

Tattoos? “None. Yet.”

Physical handicaps? “Non-existent.”

Type of clothes? “Depends on what kind of mood I’m in.”

How do you wear your clothes? “I’m guilty of a little tailoring if needed.”

What are your feet like? “What the fuck? Weirdo. Good enough, why? You want pictures?”

Race / Ethnicity? “Half black, half white.”

Mannerisms? “I’m a shifter. Always moving my weight from one leg to the other.”

Are you in good health? “Better be. I ain’t worked my ass off for nothing.”

Do you have any disabilities? “No.”

PERSONALITY

What words or phrases do you overuse? “Fuck, shit, Hell, ass, damn. Bitch too, if you catch me in a bad mood.”

Do you have a catchphrase? “What kind of cheesy ass bullshit would that be?”

Are you more optimistic or pessimistic? “Pessimistic.”

Are you introverted or extroverted? “Introverted.”

Do you ever put on airs? “Sometimes it’s necessary.”

What bad habits do you have? “Saying inappropriate things at inappropriate times. Wanting to punch something when I get pissed.”

What makes you laugh out loud? “People falling. Gets me every time.”

How do you display affection? “I don’t.”

Mental handicaps? “Listen, if I didn’t have any of those after my childhood, I’d be fucking unstoppable, huh?”

How do you want to be seen by others? “Important.”

How do you see yourself? “Lost.”

How are you seen by others? “Intimidating.”

Strongest character trait? “My independence.”

Weakest character trait? “My stubbornness.”

How competitive are you? “Hella.”

Do you make snap judgements or take time to consider? “I make snap judgements. I’m working on it, alright?”

How do you react to praise? “If I ever get any, I’ll let you know.”

How do you react to criticism? “I either get pissed or I try to do better. Or both. Usually both.”

What is your greatest fear? “That I can’t stop myself from turning into my mom.”

What are your biggest secrets? “I’ve done a lot of shit I’ll never repeat. I can’t.”

What is your philosophy of life? “I don’t know anymore. I’m just trying to go day by day.”

When was the last time you cried? “When I ended up at Kiara’s after beating the shit out of some poor girl in a club. First and last time I ever remember crying.”

What haunts you? “My past. A lot of it.”

What are your political views? “Anyone but Scar.”

What will you stand up for? “My beliefs, no matter how twisted or wrong or confused they may be. I think I’ve proved that point.”

Who do you quote? “No one.”

Are you indoorsy or outdoorsy? “Outdoorsy. I hate being inside too long. It feels like being a wild animal trapped in some tiny enclosure. I can’t stand it.”

What is your sinful little habit? “Oh, baby, I’ve got plenty of those.”

What sense do you most rely on? “You have to rely on all of them to get by. You can’t pick and choose. You have to keep them all sharp.”

How do you treat people better than them? “Excuse me? Who are you saying is better than me? At what?”

How do you treat people worse than them? “Depends what they’re worse at.”

What quality do you most value in a friend? “If I had friends, I assume it would be loyalty.”

What do you consider an overrated virtue? “Kindness.”

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? “I’d like to be content in my skin, not have to strive for approval anymore. It’s a hard habit o shake.”

What is your obsession? “Knives. God, I love knives.”

What are your pet peeves? “Hypocrites. Cutting in line. Loud ringers. Pop music. Too much traffic. Goody two shoes.”

What are your idiosyncrasies? “I lick my lips too damn much.”

FRIENDS AND FAMILY

Is your family big or small? Who does it consist of? “As far as I’m concerned, there’s Nuka. That’s it.”

What is your perception of family? “It’s fucked up, it’s a trap, and you’re better off if you never have any.”

Do you have siblings? Older or younger? “Two brothers. I’m the middle child.”

Describe your best friend. “I don’t have one.”

Ideal best friend? “Someone that wouldn’t annoy the Hell out of me.”

Describe your other friends. “I don’t have friends.”

Describe your acquaintances. “Okay, those. They’re cool. I’d put Penelope, Sadie and my boss on that list.”

Do you have any pets? “No.”

Who are your natural allies? “My brother.”

Who are your surprising allies? “I guess you could say Kiara.”

PAST AND FUTURE

What were you like as a baby? As a child? “Fucked up. I didn’t play with other kids. I wasn’t allowed to have friends. I went to school, I trained, I went to bed. A lot of times without dinner. I spent I don’t know how many nights listening to gunshots hoping we weren’t next. So, yeah. Fucked up.”

Did you grow up rich or poor? “Poor.”

Did you grow up nurtured or neglected? “What do you think?”

What is the most offensive thing you ever said? “How long do you got?”

What is your greatest achievement? “Making it out of that shithole alive.”

What was your first kiss like? “It wasn’t even a first kiss, it was a make out session during sex. I’ve never been kissed just to be kissed.”

What is the worst thing you did to someone you loved? “I let my family treat Nuka like shit, then I let him leave and I didn’t follow. I didn’t check up on him. I guess I thought… I guess I didn’t realize I had a choice, or how clear the right one was. There’s no excuse. I should’ve stood up for him.”

What are your ambitions? “I just want to do better.”

What advice would you give your younger self? “Run. As soon as you can, run as far as you can get. It has to be better than this.”

What smells remind you of your childhood? “Copper, mildew, sulfur and smoke.”

What was your childhood ambition? “To make mama and Scar proud.”

What is your best childhood memory? “You’re going to think I’m shitting you if I say I don’t have one, but I don’t have one.”

What is your worst childhood memory? “Oh, those, I’ve got a whole notebook of those.”

Did you have an imaginary childhood friend? “No.”

When was the last time you were crushed with disappointment? “When I was told to leave. Do you know what it feels like realizing your entire life was a goddamn lie? It’s maddening.”

What past act are you most ashamed of? “Thinking it was okay to live the way I was living.”

What past act are you most proud of? “Deciding I was going to move and move on. It took a push, but I decided to be a bigger person. I did that.”

Has anyone ever saved your life? “More than a few times. Where I grew up, if you’re not saving one another, you’re all fucked.”

Strongest childhood memory? “It was storming. We didn’t have any candles or lamps or nightlights. I remember wanting to run to Kovu’s room. I was so scared I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I was just a kid… but I wasn’t allowed to be scared. So I laid there watching the lightning until I fell asleep.”

LOVE

Do you believe in love at first sight? “No.”

Are you in a relationship? “No.”

How do you behave in a relationship? “I wouldn’t know.”

When did you last have sex? “It’s been… what, a week?”

What sort of sex do you have? “I’m a little kinky. I’ll leave it at that.”

Have you ever been in love? “Hell no.”

Have you ever had your heart broken? “If you want to call it that.”

CONFLICT

How do you respond to a threat? “Threaten back.”

Are you most likely to fight with their fists or their tongue? “Fists, but I can multitask if you want to keep it interesting.”

What is your kryptonite? “A hot girl. I’m putty in her hands.”

If you could only save one thing from your burning house, what would it be? “I don’t have anything worth saving.”

How do you perceive strangers? “Threats until proven otherwise.”

What do you love to hate? “Cockiness. It can be pretty damn sexy.”

What are your phobias? “I don’t have any.”

What is your choice of weapon? “Guns are more effective, but I’m a knife kid through and through.”

What living person do you most despise? “Zira.”

Have you ever been bullied or teased? “Kids were too afraid of me to tease me.”

Where do you go when you’re angry? “I’m trying to remember to just go away. Take a deep breath, count to ten, chill the fuck out. It’s really fucking hard.”

Who are your enemies and why? “The outsiders. I wasted two decades fighting tooth and nail for them. I put my life on the line. I gave them everything I had and more, and they turned their back on me. They can all rot in Hell.”

WORK, EDUCATION AND HOBBIES

What is your current job? “I’m a bartender at the Pit Stop.”

What do you think about their current job? “It’s not a bad job. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not glamorous, but it pays the bills. The guy hired me on the spot. No experience. No nothing. I’ve got a lot of respect for Mr. McQueen.”

What are some of your past jobs? “You don’t wanna know.”

What are your hobbies? “It all revolves around combat training.”

Educational background? “High school GED.”

Intelligence level? “Higher than yours.”

Do you have any specialist training? “Twenty fucking years of it.”

Do you have a natural talent for something? “Yeah, martial arts and spear throwing.”

Do you play a sport? Are you any good? “I don’t play any sports, but trust me, I’d be good.”

What is your socioeconomic status? “I got too much other shit to worry about. Check back in a year or two.”

FAVORITES

What is your favorite animal? “Lions.”

Which animal do you dislike the most? “Giraffes. What do they even do with those long ass necks? Eat leaves? What a waste.”

What place would you most like to visit? “Africa.”

What is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen? “Don’t you dare laugh at me. I’ll fuck you up. There’s something about sunsets that always stops me in my tracks. I’m serious, not a giggle.”

What is your favorite song? “I don’t listen to music.”

Music, art, reading preferred? “Art.”

What is your favorite color? “Red.”

What is your password? “And why would I tell you that?” (576342rtsyssy572xlc2l)

Favorite food: “I’m partial to steak.”

What is your favorite work of art? “Dunno.”

Who is your favorite artist? “Dunno times two.”

What is your favorite day of the week? “There’s something about Thursdays that just feel right.”

POSSESSIONS

What is in your fridge? “I’m not gonna lie, it’s running low right now. I know there’s some strawberries and half a carton of milk left, probably not much else of mine.”

What is on your bedside table? “Glass of water, earbuds, phone charger, pocket knife, wallet. There’s a pistol in the drawer, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

What is in your car? “Don’t have one, but I left a spare charger in Nuka’s.”

What is in your bin? “It’s empty.”

What is in your purse or wallet? “ID. Fake ID, just in case. Cash. Debit card, credit card. Some grocery rewards card I got talked into signing up for. Oh, and a coupon for Fudge Stripes, I need to remember to get those before it expires.”

What is in your pockets? “A knife.”

What is your most treasured possession? “My most expensive sword. It’s not that expensive, I found it at a thrift store, but I fixed that baby up.”

SPIRITUALITY

Who or what is your guardian angel? “I’m not buying that I have one.”

Do you believe in the afterlife? “There’s gotta be something. There’s too many people I know that deserve to burn in Hell.”

What are your religious views? “Don’t really have any.”

What do you think heaven is? “Dunno.”

What do you think hell is? “A well deserved torture chamber.”

Are you superstitious? “Eh.”

What would you like to be reincarnated as? “Some big cat. That’d be really fucking cool. If not a lion, a tiger or a cougar or something. But not in a zoo. Hell no.”

How would you like to die? “I hope I go out in a blaze of glory.”

What is your spirit animal? “Lioness.”

What is your zodiac sign? “Leo.”

VALUES

What do you think is the worst thing that can be done to a person? “Taking everything from them.”

What is your view of ‘freedom’? “Not being forced to do anyone’s biding.”

When did you last lie? “It’s been awhile now.”

What’s your view of lying? “Don’t lie to me. Sometimes it’s gotta be done. But don’t you dare lie to me.”

When did you last make a promise? “I don’t make promises.”

Did you keep or break their last promise? “I’d probably break them. That’s why I don’t make promises.”

DAILY LIFE

What are your eating habits? “I have trouble remembering to eat, so sit’s a little sketchy, I’m working on it.”

Do you have any allergies? “Nope.”

Describe your home. “It’s not much, but it’s more than I’ve ever had.”

Are you a minimalist or a clutter hoarder? “I’m a minimalist.”

What do you do first thing on a weekday morning? “Look outside.”

What do you do on a Sunday afternoon? “Work, usually.”

What do you do on a Friday night? “Stay up too late.”

What is your soft drink of choice? “I don’t like soda.”

What is your alcoholic drink of choice? “I lack too much experience to choose.”

MISCELLANEOUS

What or who would you dress up as for Halloween? “Dressed up as a kickboxer once, I think that’s it.”

Are you comfortable with technology? “Yeah. I guess. What does that mean?”

If you could save one person, who would it be? “Nuka.”

If you could call one person for help, who would it be? “Nuka.”

What is your greatest extravagance? “Don’t have much of one.”

What is your greatest regret? “Wasting so much of my life to come out empty handed.”

What is your perception of redemption? “All I know is I’m trying.”

What would you do if you won the lottery? “Buy Nuka and I a real place instead of an apartment.”

What is your favorite fairytale? “Hansel and Gretel.”

What fairytale do you hate? “Jack and the Beanstalk. It’s fucking stupid.”

Do you believe in happy endings? “No.”

What is your idea of perfect happiness? “I don’t know if it exists.”

What would you ask a fortune teller? “Where do I end up?”

If you could travel through time, where would you go? “Back to the start. Redo it all. Right this time.”

What sport do you excel at? “Never played much sports.”

What sport do you suck at? “I don’t.”

If you could have a superpower, what would you choose? “Shapeshifting. That’d be fucking cool. Turn into a mouse, squeeze in a crack, turn into a bear and rip someone’s fucking face off if you need to.”

#take a shot every time they use a swear word ...#walttasks #tasks.

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emilythecosmicbun · 3 years

Text

Creepypasta OCs.

Any updates information is on Wattpad WATTPAD: https://www.wattpad.com/story/255861941-creepypasta-ocs-emily-elliot-and-stedge

TW BLOOD, ABUSE MENTION

cottontailprincess is my Instagram and Emilythecosmiccat is my username on some art websites.

They/Them pronouns please

do not sexualise me, my characters or my boyfriend please he isn’t comfortable with that.

okay so these are my two vent ocs.

Emily/Elliot (Bunny.)

one of them, as you know, is my impure agere oc, representing all the sad and flashback parts of everything. I made them to help cope with my thoughts and feelings. They are based off of my appearance and my trauma. They age up with me.

BASIC INFO

Full Name: Emily/Elliot Bunzelle but prefers just Emily or Elliot.

Nickname(s): Bunny, Emmy, El, Em, Princess, Prince, Princette

Meaning of name: Emily (from Urban Dictionary.) An Emily is someone who is crazy inside and out. She knows who her friends are and try’s hard to look after them. She is very pretty but doesn’t always know that. She isn’t always the most popular, but to her that doesn’t matter. She has friends from all ages and they all adore her. She hides her feelings however upsetting they may be.

Meaning of name: Elliot (Urban Dictionary) Elliot is a true master at caring. He teaches how to love and be loved. A man of honour a man of steal. He's as handsome as a Greek God, as strong as diamond, as compassionate as a saint and is as gentle as a father's touch. Elliot possesses a magic within to create a vision in the eyes of all, leaving them stunned at how brilliant and perfect Elliot truly is. A leader, a spirit lifter, a lover, a giver, an Elliot'll leave you speechless with his being, his essence.

Gender: Non-Binary

Pronouns: They/Them

Age:

Currently 19, same as IRL me, though they physically and mentally regress to younger ages, so their age varies. Their main ages are variants of 1+

Date of Birth:

August 21st (Body born in 2001)

Race/Species: English and a Spirit or Entity.

Native language: English (as in England English.)

Orientation/Sexual Preference: Bisexual Personality: Silly, playful, honest, caring, childish, bratty, stubborn, sweet.

Are They Dead: No but they aren't alive either. Somewhere in between.

Any Mental Health Issues?

C-PTSD, due to multiple traumatic events. They frequently experience multiple flashbacks and nightmares, and is usually terrified of leaving their safe space unless it’s with Stedge, even then, they panic.

Triggers: Listed Here. Triggers page on my Carrd.

Powers/Special Abilities: Can float slightly off the ground, is able to phase through walls, spew blood at will, and look "alive" when speaking and comforting children, or just around those they trust.

APPEARANCE:

Looks:

Very young child: Short but very curly/wavy brown hair, a bit lighter than when they are in older looking forms. They wear a pink dress with a white shirt under, and black school shoes. However, they can also just wear a sonic shirt and leggings, or a skirt.

Child: They can vary but their usual look is long curly/wavy brown hair, brown eyes, pale skin, blood on their mouth and nose area, tired-looking eyes, pink dress, sometimes a nightgown, depending on the look, they can wear socks, bunny slippers or even go barefoot! Sometimes they wear bunny ears! Sometimes they like to wear sonic gear.

Teen: Depending on the age as a teen, at the point it's "kawaii" inspired things, sometimes just a Melanie Martinez shirt and pants (or skirt), sometimes overalls! They also wore band merch, stuff like that. They have either long brown hair, black hair or multicoloured hair like Melanie Martinez (dyed in variants such as pink, red, blonde (more like light ginger.)

Adult: Band tops, but also ones with cute designs on such as bunnies or kittens, sometimes overalls or dresses, sometimes even onesies, since they can still have the traits of an agere headspace. Short Brown hair, is a lot chubbier than the rest, can be considered mid or plus size.

Height: Varies depending on form and age, but usually smol.

Weight: (UNKNOWN BUT IT VARIES.)

Hair color: Dark brown/Brown

Eye color: Brown

Scars and/or skin conditions: Has a few bruises and a few cuts in some places, but I prefer to not draw them.

Has a skin condition called psoriasis. (I have it IRL.)

Never Seen Without: White Bun, and their three Cream The Rabbit plushies.

Likes:

• Things with peaches (the fruit) on them. (Including peaches and peach ice tea.)

• Bunnies

• Their Caregiver, Stedge.

• Drawing, and colouring in.

• The colour pink.

• Sonic The Hedgehog.

• Porcelain Dolls

• Stuffed Animals

Dislikes:

• Abusers (including physical, mental and sexual abusers.)

• Those who take advantage of vulnerable people.

• People who don’t take them seriously.

• Drama.

• Being abandoned or left alone.

Relationships:

Stedge - Partner in crime, best friend, caregiver and lover. (Depending on age of course.)

Cream.exe (Sally.exe game) - practically twinning, bunny loves to hang out with cream.exe. (my highest kin, apart from cream herself.)

Family Members - Depending on which member, they do have a good bond or a negative one. Bunny loves them on different levels, some of them, they hate. This does not reflect on how (I myself) feel about said family members.

(If you want your creepypasta oc to be friends with Bunny, just ask!)

OTHER INFO:

• They age up with my current age since they aren't dead and they are based off of me.

• I decided to make them some sort of entity since I couldn’t make them a ghost and still be alive lol they age up with me.

•Their “trauma” is the same as mine, which is why I won’t write it in detail here but they are a victim of abuse.

• They are all bloody because its how I feel about my trauma.

• They physically and mentally regressed to the age they are supposed to be, if they are in their child forms, they are an actual child. (Direct reference to my age regression I use to help me cope with my trauma) They prefer to be in this form so they can protect and befriend children. They don't harm children or other victims of abuse. The children usually call them “bunny.”

• When they're in their adult form, they have a partner called Stephen. Someone who they have known since they were 17 years old. When they are a “child” he takes care of them and protects them to make sure they don't ever get hurt again.

• Their sense of justice is what caused them to want to help other children. They never want to see another child go through what they went through.

Any Other Info is on the Picture.

Stedge

Well, I also made a creepypasta oc to represent my boyfriend, someone who I love and trust to help me during those horrible times. He’s like my partner in crime. lmao also his age isn’t rly there because he ages up with his real life counterpart, which will get updated.

REMINDER TO NOT SEXUALISE HIM AS MY BOYFRIEND IS UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THAT.

BASIC INFO:

Name: Stephen

Nickname(s): Stedge, Mr. Bubbles (by Emily/Elliot.)

Meaning of name: Stephen The most beautiful boy in existence. Has stunning eyes, that make your heart fall through the floor when they crinkle with his perfect smile. Is deep, unlike most boys, and extremely intelligent. Has a big heart, and he doesn't realize when he's being taken for granted. Even though he would never admit it, he sometime's can't see what's right in front of him. An over-analyzer, and very stubborn, but he will admit defeat when he has to. Likes to drive girls crazy, apparently. Easy to fall in love with. Hard to figure out.

Gender: Male

Age: Ages up with IRL person. Currently: 19.

Date of Birth:

9th April

Race/Species: English, Human.

Native language: UK English.

Orientation/Sexual Preference: Straight

Are They Dead: No

Any Mental Health Issues? No, None that we know of.

Triggers: None that we know of.

Powers/Special Abilities:

He doesn't have many powers but he athletic and can run quick and has a good amount of strength. He uses a bat and other various stuff.

APPEARANCE:

Looks:

Short brown hair, brown eyes, a bit of facial hair, variants of a black or dark grey shirt, but obviously not only those, sometimes they’re ripped.

Hair color: Dark brown, brown.

Eye color: Brown.

Scars: None.

Personality: He is quite intelligent and mature, behaves childishly in front of Emily/Elliot, cold and serious, is kind, polite, protective.

Hobbies and Likes: • playing the guitar

• skate (skateboarding)

• listening to tunes

• spending time with Emily/Elliot.

Dislikes:

• Abusers, people who take advantage of vulnerable people.

• People who are cruel to Emily/Elliot.

Relationships: Bunny - Best friend, soulmate, would do anything to make bunny smile, frequently gets them stuffed toys and food.

EXTRA INFO:

He is a few months older than me in IRL, his age is 19 right now, along with mine but will be updated.

Stephen is a human, and helps take care of Emily (in their child forms.) since they are a child and very vulnerable in that state due to their trauma, when they’re adult they are romantic towards each other.

They work together as a team when bashing and killing abusers. While he uses physical means, Emily uses mental.

Any Other Info is on the Picture.

WATTPAD: https://www.wattpad.com/story/255861941-creepypasta-ocs-emily-elliot-and-stedge

#my art #agere #sfw agere #creepypasta oc #creepypasta #impure regression #creepypasta child #child oc #bunny #sally.exe #sally exe #sonic exe

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lucacangettathisass · 3 years

Text

JOUST (Chapter One)

SUMMARY: Following a mix up that would only be funny if it were happening to an anime character, my Japanese host family turns out to have only a son, who I will also be rooming with at his school, Shiratorizawa Academy. Christ knows how it could get any worse from here.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: None

TAGLIST:@youidiot91 @meemsx @squishyrobbie @total-insanity @oneshotofvodkaa @moons-and-stars-and-shit

NOTES: I really want to thank everyone who has shown an interest in this fic, it really means a lot! I can’t gaurantee an upload schedule as things are weird rn, but I’ll try to upload as often as possible. So, without further ado, here it is!

And if you want to be added to the taglist just lmk!

CHAPTER ONE

Do not, as some ungracious pastors do,

Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven,

Whiles, like a puffed and reckless libertine,

Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,

And recks not his own rede.

-William Shakespeare

And the rest is rust and stardust

-Vladimir Nabokov

The oddness of the situation truly didn’t come to me until after I had landed in Sendai Airport, which of the two airports I have been to, was definitely the bigger and nicer one.

After flying for essentially twenty four hours, I was eager to stretch my legs, and I had to hold back my groans of satisfaction as I was finally able to move my body outside of the confined space of the plane. I navigated myself through the crowd, taking great pains to avoid colliding with anyone, and apologising if I accidentally got too close, until I came across an empty patch of floor beside a wall, where I proceeded to stand. At that moment in time, anything seemed better than sitting.

Alone and away from the crowd, I dug into the Kuromi sports bag on my left shoulder, resting my My Melody carry-on against the wall, pulling out the folder I had made that contained the info on my host family, reading through it for the umpteenth time.

The Goshiki family, consisting of the father, Hideaki, his wife, Mayumi, and their son, Tsutomu.

That was the odd thing that had suddenly struck me. There was no mention of a daughter of any kind, or any other female relative that stayed with them. I had been too full of excitement and nerves to really think about it before, but now that I was, it did seem odd.

‘I wonder why a family with only a son would host someone from an all girls school.’ I tried to think of an explanation, but my brain was so fried from the flight that I could barely muster up anything. So I shrugged, put the file back, and went on to find the luggage check in.

When I arrived at the luggage carousel, I was surprised to see a family of three there, holding up a sign. A sudden, strong feeling came over me, and I looked up at their sign. It read Welcome Cody Smith, in tall, proud kanji. This was them, it had to be. So, seeing little other options, I approached them.

“H-Hello?” My voice cracked a little due to nerves, and I quickly cleared my throat, scrambling to remember the Japanese I had learned. “I’m Cody.” I bowed quickly, and as deeply as I could manage without completely falling over. “Thank you for welcoming me into your home.”

There was a pause, and I felt my face heat up in the heavy silence. I slowly stood back up, looking over their confused faces.

“I-I’m sorry.” A middle aged man, who I assumed to be Mr Goshiki, said, rather awkwardly. “We...well we were expecting a uh…boy.”

I blinked, trying to quickly translate what he had said in my head, and process it. “Oh.” I said, because I really didn’t know what else to say.

“Hideaki!” His wife scolded, clearly unimpressed with her husband’s bluntness. She turned to me and smiled kindly, although even I couldn’t miss her blush. “It isn’t your fault honey.” She assured me. “Tomu, say hello.”

I turned my attention to the son, who struck me as having intense Rock Lee energy, and not just because of the bowl cut. He looked serious and determined, with a furrowed brow, like he was about to go into battle or something. He bowed, just like I had, but with...conviction, somehow, if that were possible. “I am Tsutomu Goshiki!” He declared, so loudly that a few people were staring. “And I am honoured to be your host brother!”

Startled, and even more sure of the Rock Lee comparison, I could only stare down at him, a boy who I knew was the same age as me, yet seemed to want to carry himself with the dignity and seriousness of a man his father’s age. “Oh. Um. Hi.” I only barely managed to get the word out, a little bewildered at what I considered to be an over the top greeting.

He remained in his stance, upper body perfectly parallel to the ground, as I continued to stare. I saw him lift his head a little, and his eyelids flicker. I tilted my head to the side a little so I could actually see him without my chest obstructing my view. We maintained eye contact for a few seconds, before he stood up right again, practically snapping his body into position with such speed and force that I actually felt a slight breeze. “Let me help with your luggage!” He said as a declaration again, as if this was something deadly serious. “Which bags are yours?”

“Uh, they haven’t shown up yet.” I nervously glanced around, noting all the looks from strangers.

“Calm down now Tomu.” Mrs Goshiki said, with a mother’s fondness, clearly used to this. “I’m sure Cody is tired.”

“Coco.”

“Hm?” Mrs Goshiki turned to me.

I started to blush again, and I looked down shyly. “I uh...I would prefer it if you called me Coco.”

“Oh. Alright then honey, sure thing.”

I looked back up at her and smiled gratefully. “Thanks.” I looked back at the luggage carousel, watching as one bag after another made its way around on the conveyor belt, waiting for mine.

“There you are.”

I walked up to the conveyor belt, hand outstretched to grab the bright pink, Hello Kitty suitcase.

“Let me!”

Before I could react, Tsutomu suddenly appeared, yanking the suitcases. “Is the other Hello Kitty one yours too?”

“Uh, yeah, but I can-”

Thunk!

I stood there, somewhat awkwardly, as Tsutomu stood there, one of my suitcases in each hand, looking so serious that it made the situation comical. “Allow me!” He said, already walking on ahead. “As your host brother, it’s my job to help you settle in and make things easier for you.”

Deciding that it would be more trouble than it was really worth to argue, I quietly followed, trying to ignore all the curious eyes. ‘I wonder if he would’ve done that if I was a boy.’

During the car ride back to the Goshiki residence, I listened as Tsutomu told me all about Shiratorizawa Academy. Since I was arriving only a month after the beginning of the school year, I hadn’t missed much, but I would still need to work hard to catch up.

(“It’s a really tough school.” He had said. “But you wouldn’t be sent here if you weren’t able to hack it, so I believe in you.”

“Thanks.”)

But he spent most of his time talking about the volleyball team.

Being utterly ignorant to all things volleyball, I had a hard time keeping up. I got that he was an outside hitter-whatever that meant-and that the Shiratorizawa team was considered to be the best in the whole Miyagi Prefecture. And, what’s more, their captain and ace player, Wakatoshi Ushijima, was considered the number one ace among high school volleyball players, and was even selected for Japan’s under 19 Youth World Championship team. Despite my lack of knowledge, even I was able to tell that that was a big deal.

“And this year we’re going to go to nationals and win!” Tsutomu said excitedly, and with such conviction that I wouldn’t be surprised if that alone won them first place. “Hey! You should see us practice!”

“Oh, uh, I don’t know.” I said, honestly surprised by the suggestion. “I don’t really know anything about volleyball so....”

“You can still just watch.” He insisted. “And I can introduce you to the guys so you’ll know more people.”

“Tomu…”

Tsutomu turned to face his mother, who was looking over her shoulder at us. Evidently, the use of the nickname was enough to get her point across.

I looked out the window, resting my forehead against the glass, watching a city I had only seen in pictures and video go by me.

I woke with a start, eyes wide, looking around so quickly that I banged my head. “Ow.” I looked up, and saw that I had hit the glass of the car window.

“Good timing.” Mr Goshiki said, the first words I heard him say since the airport. “We’re here.”

I blinked and nodded, stifling a yawn as I got out of the car. I went to the back to get my luggage, but Tsutomu already had it covered, taking my suitcases up to the impressively sized house. While I was reeling from his speed, Mr and Mrs Goshiki took my sports bag and carry-on respectively, leaving me standing in their driveway.

I had no other choice but to quietly follow them, up the path, and to the door, taking my shoes off immediately upon entering.

“You’ll mostly be staying in Shiratorizawa’s dorms.” Mrs Goshiki said. “But during the holidays and, if you like, the weekends, you’ll be here with us.” She went up the stairs, followed by her husband and son so, naturally, I went with them.

“This will be your room when you’re here.” She said, opening the door to a spacious bedroom. It was sparsely furnished, with only a bed, a small bedside table, a bookcase, and a reasonably sized vanity. “You can decorate it however you want.”

“Thank you.” I somehow managed to find my voice again. I turned to face the entire family and bowed again, a little deeper this time, hoping it would be enough. “You’re all very kind.”

Mr Goshiki chuckled. “It’s fine, you don’t need to bow.”

I straightened up, mumbling a small and embarrassed “Sorry.”

“We’ll leave you to get unpacked.” Mrs Goshiki said. “You’ve got your own bathroom through there,” she pointed to a door on the left wall, “and Tomu’s room is right across the hall. Hide and I will be down the hall on the right. You get yourself settled in while I prep dinner.” She gave me one last comforting smile and with that, the family filed out, Tsutomu closing the door behind him.

I let out a deep sigh, looking around the room, and back down at my bags.

‘Better not unpack too much if I’ll be staying in a dorm.’

About two hours later, there was a knock at the door, making me pause in my arranging of the closet in my new room. “Yes?”

“It’s Tsutomu.” His voice was a little muffled by the door, but I could definitely tell it was him. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Alright, be right down.” I got up and went over to the door, only to find Tsutomu was still there when I opened it.

“Did you need help with anything?”

“Oh, ah, no. I’m all good.”

Tsutomu looked like he was about to press the issue, but he seemed to think better of it, and simply went on ahead down the stairs. “My mum made ramen, don’t worry it’s vegan like you put on the form.”

“Cool.” I blushed, remembering filling out that field and now wondering why I did so, when I knew that it would no doubt be a hassle.

I followed Tsutomu into the dinning room, and the two of us joined his parents at the table, big bowls of still warm ramen in front of us. After a quick prayer we tucked in. I had no idea if Mrs Goshiki had any experience with vegan food before, but if she hadn’t, that made the ramen all the more impressive.

The noodles weren’t too firm, nor was the broth too rich. The mushrooms were perfectly tender, and there was just the right amount of vegetables and tofu to balance everything out. I already knew that I was going to find out Mrs Goshiki’s recipe and learn how to make it.

“So what made you decide to do this exchange?”

I looked up at Mr Goshiki and shrugged, swallowing down the noodles and mushrooms. “Just felt like something different I guess.” I idly swirled the broth around. “And, I mean, I’m interested in Japan, so I figured I would take my chance.”

“Really? Why Japan?”

‘Don’t say anime and look like a weeb don’t say anime and look like weeb don’t say anime and look like a weeb I swear to fuck if you do that shit I am shutting this whole operation down.’

“Mostly how different it is from New Zealand.” I said. “An entirely different culture in an entirely different continent, I don’t know, just the usual curiosity I guess.”

‘You live another day.’

Dinner passed with regular small talk, with the Goshiki family getting to know more about me and vice versa. I offered to help Mrs Goshiki with the dishes, but she insisted I ‘go right to bed and get some much needed rest’.

The only problem was, despite the fact that it was the middle of the night, I was still wide awake.

‘I guess this is jet lag.’

I stared up at the ceiling, waiting for my eyelids to droop, and for sleep to take me, but alas, it proved to be as evasive as ever.

Sighing in defeat, I got out of bed, went over to the bookshelf, and got back under the blankets with My Melody, and began to re-read Hamlet, again.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x oc #haikyuu fic #tendou x reader #dark haikyuu #well kind of it will get dark but it isnt there yet #and i'll randomly choose a hq boy x reader tag with every chapter update so sorry now and in advance for that!#idk how else to tag it and get it out there rip

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angryinternetduck · 4 years

Text

Sunshine

4.6k words exactly on a glowing fem!reader and Harry Styles finally realizing they're more than friends. A few bad words but no other warnings I can think of. Happy reading!!!

Harry always said that you glowed.

He liked to say you were a star: in your actions, in your words, in your very being. He loved to gush compliments over you, drowning you in sweet words and affectionate touches and letting you know just how much he loved you. And sure, most of that took place while he was drunk, but hey - drunk words are sober thoughts, right?

Either way, he sure did compare you to a star a lot when he was drunk, and after a while, it even carried over to sober words too when he gave you the nickname of Sunshine. And, despite your tendency to complain and correct him, you weren’t too mad about it.

You’d met him at a bar, late one night after a particularly messy breakup. He’d been positively hammered, and had approached you with the weakest pick up line you’d ever heard in your entire life.

“You, darling,” he’d slurred confidently, “light up my world… like… like nobody else.”

“Really?” you’d replied, just as drunk. “Is that so?”

“That’s so,” he’d said. He bopped your nose. “Right sunshine, you are.”

The whole night was a blur of bad jokes and aggressive flirting that never actually went anywhere. That’s what you always assumed, anyway, because you’d woken up the next morning alone in your bed with only a killer headache and his number in your cell.

It took you two weeks to call him, and, a bit tipsy, you’d given him your address and offered a night in. You had a few ideas in mind, ones that included quite a different morning after than the previous time you’d seen him, but him coming over in the softest blue jumper you’d ever seen and carrying bags of Chinese take away was not on the list.

“Tell me, Sunshine,” he’d said by way of greeting, “do you have anything fun to drink?”

“Plenty of Capri Sun,” you’d answered.

“Well,” Harry laughed, “with Capri Sun and take away, how could we go wrong?”

That morning after was, technically, quite different than the last, but - again - not in the way you’d expected. You’d traded favorite movies, talking over every scene of Love Actually with snarky commentary and shushing him when he tried to do the same with yours, and fell asleep on the couch hours after the sun rose.

Another drunken night brought another drunken phone call, and another and another, until the phone calls became sober and the random drunken nights became consistent Friday afternoons. You were making a decent headway on classic movies - movies the two of you deemed classic, anyway - and celebrated the first anniversary of your meeting at the bar where you’d met.

It was that night, one year since you’d met Harry Styles, staring at your ceiling fan and listening to him snore, that you’d realized two things at once. One, that you hadn’t dated anyone in a year, and two, that you didn’t care - you were perfectly content as it was. And, you’d thought vaguely, Harry had never mentioned a girlfriend, either.

Strange.

☀️☀️☀️

That lasted another month, and then you met your boyfriend.

His name was Oliver, and he was sweet. Smart. Cute. You really liked him. Of course you did. You’d met him at some party and hit it off almost immediately, and he took you out to dinner a few days after you met. He brought you flowers, and paid for the meal, and at the end of the night, he gave you a soft kiss on the cheek.

Harry was a bit skeptical about the lad, and he wasn’t afraid to voice his concerns.

“Sounds like a prick,” he’d said casually, mouth full of popcorn, when you’d told him all about your new boyfriend and his various hopes and dreams. Your jaw dropped. “What?” you’d said incredulously.

“Dunno,” Harry replied. “Just giving me the wrong vibes.”

And, when you’d shown him a picture, all he had to say was, “Those shoes are weird.”

You only scoffed, and he shrugged, looking at you like you were the one who was crazy. “What?” he said. “Can’t have a man without a fashion sense - don’t want him to be buying you rubbish gifts, hm?”

Despite all the slander, Harry had been adamant about meeting him.

“I need to meet this guy, Sunshine,” he’d insisted.

“Yeah, sure,” was your constant reply, “maybe some time.”

But for some reason, you’d procrastinated with the whole meetup thing. You weren’t quite sure of the exact reason why, although Harry’s skepticism on him probably didn’t help. Harry finally took it into his own hands and sent him a message on Instagram, which led to a very strange, awkward movie night.

“He seems nice,” Oliver said at the end of the night as he walked you home, and you nodded. “Mhm,” you hummed softly. “I don’t know about his taste in movies, though,” he’d gone on with a teasing smile, nudging your shoulder with his own. “Ten Things I Hate About You? A bit sappy, huh?”

You laughed a bit, shrugging your shoulders. “Yeah, he’s a… sappy guy.”

The conversation fizzled out after that, but it was a comfortable silence, and you didn’t mind too much. You seemed to have a lot of comfortable silence with him. He walked you home, and kissed you goodnight, and never came to another movie night again.

☀️☀️☀️

“Heya!” you exclaimed as Harry opened the door of his flat, already scooting past him before he’d stepped back. “Hey, Sunny,” Harry replied, and you corrected him with your name as you plopped four bags of take away on his table.

“Did you invite somebody?” Harry asked, and you frowned. “What?”

Harry grinned, nodding at the food. “That’s food enough for four, love.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and kept taking boxes out of the bags. “I’m just doing my duties,” you told him. “You’re a growing boy, Styles.” Harry raised an eyebrow. “Growing horizontally if you keep this up, Sunshine.”

You handed him a pair of chopsticks. “So have at it, growing-horizontally boy.”

“If you insist.”

You collapsed on the couch next to him with a box of lo maine, but when he didn’t say anything and just stared thoughtfully at his food, you asked, “Penny for your thoughts?” He glanced at you, and smiled. “I found a girl,” he said.

Your jaw dropped, your eyes going comically wide. “You found a girl?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

“Well, fuck, H, my bad, but it’s been so long I -” You cut yourself off when Harry shot you a glare. A beat of silence, and then, still grinning, you dragged out, “Soooooooooooo…” and asked, “What’s her name?” Harry smiled. “Astrid.”

“Astrid,” you echoed, pulling a face. “Sounds like a pink haired anime character.”

“You don’t even watch anime,” Harry muttered.

“Still,” you said. “Is she nice? What’s she look like? If she has pink hair I’m gonna -”

“She’s blonde, Sunny,” Harry interrupted, ignoring your glare at the nickname. “And she’s very nice. Proper smart, too - going to med school at the mo’.” You pursed your lips. “Sounds snobby.”

“She’s not.”

You shrugged, spinning noodles round your fork. “Where’d you meet her?”

Harry hesitated, and then, “Starbucks.”

You paused, looked up at him, raised a brow. “Starbucks?”

“Yeah. She’s barista-ing ‘till she gets her degree.”

“When’s your date?”

Harry hesitated, again, and told her, “Last night.”

You scoffed. “Last night?”

“Woulda gone to a pet store if I wanted a parrot, Sunshine.”

“Sunshine, my ass!” you exclaimed. “When’d you meet her?”

“Monday.”

“Monday?” you practically shrieked, talking over him when he murmured something about parrots and asking, “And you didn’t tell me this Wednesday because?” Harry shrugged. “Didn’t wanta tell you ‘bout something that would go south.”

A pause. “So it went north?”

Harry grinned. “To the stars, Sunny, she’s wonderful.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really, she’s amazing.”

A pause, again, and Harry glanced over at you, and you were smiling, just a bit, and Harry raised an eyebrow. “You’re looking at me funny, Sunshine.” You shrugged. “It’s just weird, is all.” You frowned. “When was the last time you went on a date?”

Harry flushed. “Not important.”

“Riiiiight,” you laughed, nudging him with your elbow. You settled against the couch, twirling noodles around your fork before slurping a noodle into your mouth. “So,” you went on, running your tongue over your lips, “tell me about it!”

“What?” Harry asked distractedly, his eyes flicking up to meet yours.

“The date, moron.”

Harry’s smile faded, and he shrugged, his enthusiasm suddenly lost. He looked at his food. “Erm - it was good. She’s brilliant.” You laughed, prodding him with your foot. “Gotta give me more than that, Styles. What happened to ‘to the stars’?”

“She’s really into astrology,” Harry mumbled.

You raised an eyebrow. “Hm.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re not giving her a chance.”

“You’re not giving me a proper picture!” you insisted. “Give me details, dude, c’mon.”

He bit his lip, studying you for a second before looking away. “She’s… she’s perfect, Sunny. She just - she glows. And she’s so funny. She always knows what to say, too, like she can read my mind. And Christ, Sunshine, she’s gorgeous. Her smile’s brighter than the sun and…” He looked up, meeting your gaze with a lopsided smile. “And she’s got the most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen,” he finished, his voice going quiet.

“That’s more like it!” you cheered. “Maybe I’ll give this girl a chance!”

“Yeah,” he said softly.

“Where’d you guys go?”

“Some little restaurant by the river…”

“Ooh, by the river - you walked with her, right? All romantic?”

Harry nodded. “Mhm. Saw some stars, too.

You snickered. “Did she tell you your future from the constellations?”

Harry groaned, tossing a pillow at you. “Stop itttt,” he dragged.

“Sorry, sorry,” you giggled, “please continue.”

“It was fantastic. She -”

“Wait a minute,” you interrupted. “Wait a minute, you called me this morning. At, like, eight o’clock!” Harry nodded. “Yup,” he said, and you frowned. “So you… didn’t get laid?” Harry scoffed. “Mr. Checkered Shoes over there didn’t shag you the first date, now did he?”

“Yeah, well, he’s a gentleman, and you’re a dick, so -”

“I am not!” Harry exclaimed. He smiled smugly. “Ask Astrid.”

“Oh, I will,” you replied, just as smugly. “Wanna invite her over for a movie night?”

“Abso -” He paused, frowning slightly. “Maybe later.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Later, huh? Should I send her a dm?”

“Don’t even think about it,” Harry warned, and you laughed.“Sure, sure,” you told him, wondering what a girl named Astrid would have as her Instagram handle and whether or not she’d reply to a perfect stranger’s message.

☀️☀️☀️

Harry missed the next week’s movie night because of Astrid.

You didn’t mind.

You’d been wanting to spend more time with your boyfriend, anyway.

And if you kept your phone by your side the whole night through, waiting for a heartbroken text from Harry saying it didn’t quite work out with Astrid the pink haired barista, nobody had to know.

☀️☀️☀️

Astrid’s timing was perfect. She met Harry Styles at the end of January, on a cold winter’s day just begging for a warm cup of coffee. She wasn’t even supposed to be there that day; she was supposed to take off, but the guy who was supposed to cover for her couldn’t make it because of the snow. She’d never been more miserable to live walking distance from her work than that morning.

Her mood had lifted, however, when a new face had stepped into the coffee shop. A new, dangerously gorgeous face that was grinning a swoon-worthy smile down at his cell phone when he walked in. Astrid didn’t even get annoyed when he took a call in line. Hearing him greet somebody named Sunshine with that deep, accented voice of his practically made her melt on the spot.

She felt a bit of a twinge when the man said the name of the person he was talking to, which sounded a bit feminine, but didn’t think on it too much. She managed to take his order and hand him his coffee without making a fool of herself, and the worrying started after he walked out the door.

He called the girl on the phone darling. And Sunshine. Who nicknames a friend or sister Sunshine? And the way he was grinning while he was talking to that girl - there’s no way that much fondness could be for a friend. He looked like he was walking on… well, sunshine, as he talked, and that laugh…

Well.

So her hopes fizzled out, and she was certain that was the last she’d see of him.

Until the next day, when he came back.

And this time, since Astrid wasn’t even worried about impressing a potential boyfriend, they actually had a conversation. His name was Harry, she learned that day, and he was the dorkiest, funniest man she’d ever met. Even just after a two minute conversation, Astrid wanted to be friends with this guy.

The next day, Astrid learned something even more interesting. Surprisingly, it turned out that that Sunshine girl really was just a friend, and Astrid had a date with this Harry guy that Thursday night.

The date went magnificently (of course), and he asked her out again the next week. He was like something out of a fairy tale, this guy, and Astrid was absolutely charmed. She just couldn’t wait to see him again.

☀️☀️☀️

Oliver broke up with you.

It came out of nowhere, a whispered, “I think we should take a break,” after a night out, and despite everything, you were upset. It was just weird not having him around. He was one of those guys that gave you good morning and goodnight texts and called you every night (except Fridays) just to see how you were doing.

He was pretty much the perfect boyfriend, and all you could think was that it was your fault. You just were never really into him. You loved him as a friend, but he just didn’t seem like boyfriend material. You never felt that connection.

So really, all you could do was be thankful that he’d been so civil about the break up. He hadn’t seemed too angry about anything, hadn’t made a whole big scene, just did it quietly and politely and told you he hoped you could still be friends.

Which you couldn’t be, kind of, but at least the thought was there.

Regardless, you were a single woman once again, and you had a best friend to rant to.

☀️☀️☀️

That best friend you were supposed to rant to was MIA.

The week before was fine. You understood. He wanted to be with Astrid, he had a girlfriend, whatever. And really, this week shouldn’t be any different, since - as far as you knew, anyway - the girlfriend situation was still the same.

Only difference was that he told you.

The week before, he’d sent you an emoji laden text message apologizing profusely for the fact that he wouldn’t be able to make it. This week was radio silence. After spamming his phone with text messages and calling four or five times, you’d pretty much given up. You were waiting in your apartment, forty minutes after he was supposed to come, and feeling like a loser with a capital L.

After an hour of boredom and no Harry, you decided to take things into your own hands. He’d probably forgotten (not that he’d forgotten once in all the weeks you’d been doing this) and was sitting at home, scrolling through Twitter or playing the guitar or doing whatever Harry Styles did with his free time.

So you got into your car, and drove.

☀️☀️☀️

Harry grinned when he finally shifted his key right in the door, and he pushed it open as Astrid giggled and pushed him back against it, closing it again, kissing him like there was no tomorrow. Harry kissed her back and tried not to think about how her perfume was just a bit too strong, or how she was being just a tad too aggressive with her tongue, or how he didn’t really want to go anywhere past a bit of a snog but she didn’t seem to be on the same page.

Vaguely, Harry realized the light was on, and then slightly less vaguely, he realized he hadn’t left them on, and then not vaguely at all, he heard a clink and realized there was somebody else in his flat.

He pulled away from Astrid, who whined and tried to pull him back, and turned around to see you sat on his sofa with a bowl of cereal and a pair of earbuds. Harry groaned and muttered, “One sec,” to Astrid before walking over to you and pulling the earbuds out of your ears.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he hissed.

“Eating cereal,” you replied all too casually, holding up your bowl.

“Fuck’s sake, you’re not supposed to be here!”

You sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, but -”

Harry groaned your name, shaking his head. “No, no, no, you can’t just do this! You -”

“You know what? You didn’t show up!” you interrupted. “You didn’t show up, and ignored all my texts, and Olly broke up with me, and I was sad!” You scowled. “I was sad, and I thought you’d be here, and I wouldn’t have come over if you’d just” - you glanced behind him at Astrid who was still standing by the door - “told me you had a date!”

Harry paused. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I just -”

“Hey, Harry?” Astrid cut in from the door. “I think I’m gonna… take off…”

“No!” Harry exclaimed, spinning around. “No, no, she’s leaving! We can -”

Astrid gave an awkward laugh and shook her head. “It’s fine. I’ll see you later, Styles.”

She left, and Harry felt a bit of shame for the flash of relief he felt. He sighed and turned to you. “Happy?” he asked. You scoffed. “Happy?” you echoed. “What, you think I did this on purpose?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You never come in unless I’m here too.”

“That’s not true.”

Harry pursed his lips, grabbing a bowl from the cabinet and pouring himself some cereal from the bag you’d so thoughtfully neglected to put back in the cabinet. He poured some milk and grabbed a spoon, and sat on the sofa next to you. “Look,” he said. “I’m sorry about Olly, alright? I just wish you would text me before coming over.”

“Never told me to before,” you grumbled. “Well, now I have a girlfriend,” Harry snapped, and then frowned, looking at the door a bit forlornly. “I did, anyway, although I’m not so sure she’ll come back after -”

“You guys’ll be fine, H, calm down,” you interrupted, rolling your eyes as you chased a fruit loop around your bowl. “You’re too damn pretty to be dumped ‘cause of - what, a failed hook up session?”

Harry didn’t reply, and you looked up. He was smiling at you. Looked almost smug.

You frowned. “What?”

“You called me pretty.”

You groaned and tossed a pillow at him, which he dodged, but not without spilling a splash of milk onto the couch. “Please,” you muttered. “Have some dignity.” Harry smirked. “Oh, I’ve plenty of dignity, ‘specially after the first compliment I’ve gotten from you in years.”

“Oh, please!” you said again. “That’s just not fair.”

There was a beat of silence before Harry cleared his throat. “So, Oliver broke up with you?” You shrugged. “Yeah.” Harry nudged your foot with his. “‘m sorry,” he murmured, and you shrugged again. “Yeah,” you repeated.

“Do you want to… talk about it?” Harry asked hesitantly.

You shook your head. “Not really.”

“Wanna watch a movie?”

“Sure.”

You stirred your milk around your bowl, deep in thought, as Harry flicked on the TV and found a movie, but you looked up when you heard the beginnings of your favorite movie. You smiled, glancing over at Harry. “Thanks, H,” you said softly.

Harry grinned, putting an arm around your shoulders. “‘f course, Sunshine.”

☀️☀️☀️

“Astrid broke up with me,” Harry announced as he walked into your apartment.

You looked up from your couch, startled. It was only two days after you’d interrupted their date, and you’d been watching a TV show before he’d walked in. “Wow,” you replied, unsure what to say. “Um… I’m sorry, H.”

“Yeah,” he said, standing in front of you with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket. He gave a lopsided smile. “Guess I’m not too pretty to be broken up with, hm?” You laughed a bit uneasily. “Yeah, yeah, I guess not. Are you… okay?”

“I dunno. But I - I want to get out of here.”

You frowned. “And go… where?”

“Dunno,” he repeated, shrugging slightly.

“Well…”

“Christ, Sunny, c’mon,” Harry laughed, green eyes bright as he pulled you up and gently pulled you towards the door. You raised an eyebrow but let him lead you outside and into his car. “Are you sure you’re okay?” you asked as you slid into the passenger seat.

“I’m fine, Sunshine. Just wanta drive. Want some music?” he asked, already pulling out his phone. He clicked around for a second, making you frown and mutter, “If we get pulled over…”

Finally, he picked a song, and when the music poured through his speakers, you felt yourself smile as you recognized your favorite song. Harry grinned, poking you and making you giggle as he screamed out the lyrics.

Before you knew it, you were laughing and mumbling along with the song, and you were almost disappointed when the car slowed and Harry turned off the engine. You hadn’t even thought about where he’d been taking you, and you were surprised to step out of the car and onto soft grass.

You were looking up at some trees, feeling a bit intimidated by their enormous branches that towered over you in the dark night. The moon was barely visible through the leaves, and something about the whole scene felt a bit ominous.

You jumped when Harry gently touched your arm.

“Sorry,” he murmured, giving you a lopsided smile as his hand slid down to meet yours. You shivered in the cool air, letting Harry guide you through the trees. “If your way of cheering yourself up after a breakup is murdering me in a forest,” you began softly, and Harry grinned, nudging your shoulder with his. “Shoulda frisked me, Sunshine.”

You looked up to meet his eye, smiling despite yourself. “Maybe later.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Harry looked away. You continued to walk with him in silence, trying not to stress too much over the fact that you were walking hand in hand with him at night.

Your breath caught as you came to a clearing, and you felt Harry grinning as he watched your reaction. He’d brought you to a small clearing in the woods, and the scene was nothing less than magical.

The moon shone down onto the leafy ground, sparkling on the little stream that ran through the shrubs and bushes. Butterflies floated gracefully around the blooming flowers that rose from the grass, their wings iridescent in the light of the moon. Instead of ominous, the scene was calming, the humming of the insects comforting rather than scary.

“‘s pretty, isn’t it?” Harry said quietly.

“It’s gorgeous.”

He sat down in the grass, and you looked at him skeptically. “Is it wet?”

He shrugged. “Nah.”

“I’ll bite you if you’re lying,” you said.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” he said back, smirking at you.

“Christ,” you muttered, crouching down next to him a bit hesitantly before deeming it appropriately dry and plopping down next to him. “So, uh… do you want to talk about it?” you asked after a moment of quiet.

He shook his head. “No, I… I don’t.”

You let your gaze linger on his face even as he looked away, and then sighed and asked, “How’d you even find this place?” Harry shrugged. “Dunno.” You grinned, nudging him with your shoulder. “Are you walking alone in the woods a lot, H?” you said teasingly. “Should I be worried?”

“Only for yourself,” he told you with a smirk.

You frowned. “What the hell does that mean?”

Harry grinned at you and leaned in, giving you a whiff of sweet cologne and mint. “You forgot to frisk me, Sunny,” he said lowly, and he was so close that you were momentarily flustered before you laughed and gently pushed him away from you.

Silence came back, settling comfortably between the two of you, and after a minute, you yawned, resting your head on his shoulder. “This is nice,” you murmured. Harry nodded. “Yeah,” he said.

You looked up, keeping your chin on his shoulder. He looked positively ethereal, his profile glowing in the soft moonlight. He glanced at you after a second and smiled a bit. “You’re staring, Sunshine.”

“Did you really like Astrid?” you whispered.

His smile faded. “What kind of question is that?”

“You, um… Well, you’re awful chirpy for someone who just got broken up with.”

He looked down. “I dunno.”

“Don’t think you’ve ever had a serious girlfriend since I’ve known you.”

He still didn’t meet your eye. “Just haven’t found the right girl yet.”

A beat of silence, and then you spoke, your voice coming out barely a whisper.

“Are you sure?”

That was when he looked at you.

“No,” he said.

You sat up, swallowing thickly. “Hey, H?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

A slow smile grew on Harry’s face. “Yeah,” he murmured.

It was like a dam broke, then, and everything came rushing out, because you felt like you’d about die if you didn’t kiss him that very second. So you did. You kissed him, and the world stopped, and everything felt like it went frozen.

Time came to a grinding halt as your lips met his, and you swore you stopped breathing.

And then Harry pulled back. He was grinning. “Yeah,” he laughed, and you shifted into his lap as he kissed you again, and that was when the world slammed back into motion. It was a damn Disney movie in your mind, the world spinning around the two of you as butterflies appeared out of nowhere and blue birds flew in dizzying circles around your head.

You were both laughing, smiling against each other as you kissed each other breathless.

You never ever wanted to leave his side again.

☀️☀️☀️

Harry always says that you glow.

He likes to say you’re a star; in your actions, in your words, in your very being. He loves to gush compliments over you, drowning you in sweet words and affectionate touches and letting you know just how much he loves you. And sure, most of that takes place through drowsy giggles in the wee hours of the morning, but hey - still counts, right?

Either way, he sure does compare you to a star a lot, but at least now you can prove it to him. Now, you can kiss him back and drown him in sweet words and affectionate touches. Now, you can whisper I love yous as he presses featherlight kisses against your cheeks and eyelashes. Now, you can hold him and love him and do whatever you damn well please, because now, you’re not just any sunshine - you’re his Sunshine.

☀️☀️☀️

la fin ❤️

thanks for reading!!!

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#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles

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