#But my desire to style match was stronger what can I say

[sysig]

I invite you to imagine (Patreon)

[hauntedhokage]

delayed reaction

Nanami Kento/F!Reader

word count: 1.1k

summary: new experiences need processing. Nanami just has a hard time with this one.

note: set during Nanami’s hiatus from sorcerer work, established relationship with reader who is also a semi-retired sorcerer. I know where the vibe came from, but not a damn clue where this style came from. I’m vibing with it tho

“Are we going to talk about it?” The question has him holding the business journal tighter, a move that he knows doesn’t go unnoticed by the retired sorcerer who wasn’t looking at him. Things like that didn’t go unnoticed. “Kento?”

“What is there to talk about?”

“You can barely look at me, and you know damn well why.”

It’s true, and he’s ashamed of that truth. He knows the deal, knows what it means to be a jujutsu sorcerer, and the fact that he’s having difficulty facing that truth only brings him shame. It should be no different based on his relationship with the person, seeing someone engaged in battle should not shake him to his core.

But the event last week was one he couldn’t dismiss from his thoughts. And no, he couldn’t look at you much after seeing you like that. Bloody and injured, nothing too serious but enough to engage in the reality that was his relationship with you. You’d left the profession just as he did, he didn’t even know that you were trained as a sorcerer until you’d told him, but he trusted that you were able to handle yourself if you’d survived this long. First grade, that was nothing to scoff at, and yet seeing you at work? Horrifying. Even more so knowing that you’d gotten hurt when you weren’t even supposed to be exorcising curses - that was the point of quitting the job. 

He couldn’t look at you without seeing the wound on your side, even though it had been healed. The bruise on your face was healing, still, and he couldn’t get over it. He’d said that if he needed a partner, someone to spend the rest of his life with, they’d need to be strong; capable of taking care of themselves if he couldn’t protect them - despite his desire to always be able to protect them. It was a delicate line, one that was trampled on last week and one that he needed to acknowledge had been crossed. Coming to terms with the fact that you were just as capable, therefore just as much at risk of injury as he, was easier said than done. 

And it wasn’t that he was supposed to be stronger as the man in the relationship, no. He was more mature than to subscribe to such a prehistoric notion that your femininity signaled your weakness. The way you easily matched him in combat when you’d sparred told him all he needed to know about your talents and he didn’t doubt them or your ability to act. He simply wanted to be able to provide and protect, this incident boiled down to the fact that he couldn’t always protect you - and that was a hard pill to swallow.

“Kento?”

“I’m sorry, I got lost in my thoughts.”

“Could you please share them with me?”

You’re sitting in front of him now, when you had moved from the kitchen to the living room he had no idea, and he let go of the newspaper that had been serving as his grip on his reality when you gently pull it away from him. Your fingers are delicate as you fold it up, knowing that he hadn’t read a word on that paper and would need to in order to properly do his job the following morning, and he doesn’t have the words to properly express the appreciation but he trusts that you know. You’d had him figured out just from a glance across the office, a newspaper was no large feat for you. But now he has to try to look at you, and still he sees the image from the week prior - the bruising, blood, and fatigue rather than his freshly showered girlfriend. That was a problem. 

“What did I do wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then what’s your issue?”

“I wasn’t there to protect you, and because of that you were injured.”

Again, he appreciates how you wait to respond. He knows your instinct is to brush it off, say something to reason your ability level to balance out why he shouldn’t feel guilty - but you’re smarter than that. You listened to what he couldn’t say aloud, and because of that you’re still formulating a response that wouldn’t invalidate how he was feeling. 

“That was your first time seeing me in action outside of that one time we sparred.” A nod, and you give one of your own as you sit up straighter. “I understand how that could be a harrowing experience for you. I can’t promise I’d never do it again, though.”

He couldn’t ask you to make a promise like that. It’d be near impossible to keep, he knew just as well as you did that if you hadn’t acted then, there was a high chance that the curse would have gone on to hurt someone or worse. To deny your trained instinct was not a choice he would make for you, that wasn’t fair. Just like it wasn’t fair to ask you to make a promise even he couldn’t guarantee he’d be able to keep such a promise should it be asked of him. 

“You know I wouldn’t ask.”

“I don’t, based on the last week we’ve had.” And you were right, again. You didn’t - no, couldn’t - know that, not after the way he’d been acting. He hid from you, that wasn’t fair either. He could blame work, but you worked at the same building and now had the same commute - he was avoiding you while standing right beside you sometimes. Inexcusable behavior. “But I think you’ll be okay.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’ve relaxed your posture, Kento.” 

If this were a game of chess, he’s sure he would have lost the King about two minutes ago. Maybe as soon as you’d sat down, and he knew that you were well aware of how easily you’d maneuvered him out of his mental hiding space and properly into your line of sight - and you’d proven that you didn’t need a clear target to take your shot and hit the weak spot in his well crafted armor. 

And now you’re standing, coming to lean against the arm of the chair he’s in and gently cupping his cheek to guide his head back to look up at you. You’re smiling again, a real one that he’d missed seeing on your face - and for the first time his brain isn’t replacing the image of your healthy face with the pained grimace he remembered from that alleyway. You’re smiling at him, and it’s natural for him to smile up at you, a rarely seen relaxation in his stiff nature - but you played him like a fiddle for those smiles whenever you had the chance. 

“Feel better?”

“About our hellish cursed reality? No.” He’s still smiling though, his own hand coming to rest over yours on his face. “But you’re a big girl, you can take care of yourself.”

“Yeah, but I’ll tell the next curse that I have to call my boyfriend before I can exorcise it. I’m sure it’ll understand.”

[bangtanintotheroom]

I don't know, but can I request a threesome between namjoon, hoseok and the female reader with “i’ve dreamt about this.”? looooove here ❤

Ooh, yes ma'am, you made a good choice there 😛

• Pairing: Namjoon x (F)Reader x Hoseok

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, Roommates to Lovers, Polyamory

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 8.2k

• Summary: Looks like dreams do come true.

• Prompt: #4 “I’ve dreamt about this.” (fluff)

• Warnings/themes: “And they were roommates!”, pining, love confessions, threesome, polyamory, soft dom!Namjoon, soft dom!Hoseok, dirty talk, unprotected sex (Use. Protection.), doggy style, oral (m. and f. receiving), handjobs, slight anal play, mentions of double penetration, accidental cumshot, creampie, plot twist at the end 🤔

• Notes: So. I was pretty happy to finally get a request for Mr. Hobi but not only that but with my hubby too??? Imagine actually being in between these two fine men...I don’t think I’d make it out alive but it would be worth it 😌 I also got lucky enough that this coincided with my “Threesome” square for the @bangtanwritingbingo ! 💕 Crossposted to AO3.

• Taglist: @parkdatjimin @jimilter @joontied @highly-functioning-mitochondria @swweetnightt

Some people dreamed of being rich. Some dreamed of eternal beauty. And some dreamed of unconditional love. Well, that last one was kind of what you desired, but not by one person.

No, you wanted the love of two men, specifically your wonderful roommates.

And you were currently receiving it in the form of being sandwiched between them on the ripped leather couch, Namjoon pounding into you from behind while your mouth was stuffed full of Hoseok’s cock.

“Mmm—“

Hoseok raised a brow at your muffled moan, pushing the rest of your hair out of your face as he panted, “Doing alright down there, sweetheart?”

Namjoon scoffed lightly, readjusting his hands on your hips. “Hobi, relax, Y/N is in heaven right now—“ He gave a stronger thrust and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Aren’t you, babygirl?”

All you could do was make a louder sound as an answer, body quivering and eyelids fluttering.

He wasn’t wrong; you were in heaven right now.

“So what did you want to talk to us about, babygirl?”

You straightened up at Namjoon’s curious tone, biting your lip as you continued to stare at your clasped hands.

“Um…”

Hoseok’s voice sounded to the right of you, “Why the nervous expression, sweetheart? Did you back the tub up again?”

“No, no, Hobi, that’s not it…”

You wished it were something as trivial as that.

The truth was that you were going to confess your feelings for your two roommates, Namjoon and Hoseok.

How your love for the both of them extended beyond platonic yet was equal.

But would this go well?

It was so fucking risky to be telling them this in the first place. What reaction were you even expecting? Shock? Outrage? Disgust? Complete acceptance?

That last one almost made you laugh.

“Well, what then?” One of Hoseok’s hands landed on your entwined ones. “You look like you’re about to throw up, sweetheart.”

Swallowing hard, you forced the trembling to stop now that he was touching you. Looking up at Hoseok, your heart melted at the sunny smile he gave you, his heart-shaped lips curling.

Then you felt a hand wrap around to rest on your shoulder.

“Yeah Y/N, relax. Take your time but whatever you have to say, we want to hear it.”

And now you turned your head, heart dissolving completely at Namjoon’s dimpled smile, full lips twisting up.

“Joonie, Hobi…”

You didn’t know whether to consider yourself lucky or unlucky that you ended up bonding with these two men.

Last year, you needed a new place to live, desperate to distance yourself from your unstable roommate who often had screaming matches with her on-again, off-again partner. The only options you could find were a crappy, overpriced studio apartment and a three-bedroom place with two occupants for a decent price. Obviously, the latter sounded like the better option but there was a catch.

The occupants were male.

Living with the opposite gender wasn’t something you were completely opposed to but it was more a concern of safety than anything. So you enlisted one of your good friends to come with you for the tour and interview. The listing had mentioned that the men were around your age but you weren’t expecting much.

Which is why you were blown away when you met them.

Both were incredibly handsome, enough that you paused for a bit before shaking their hands. But the two were distinguishable from each other in their own ways.

Hoseok carried himself with a playful air, present in his silvery lavender hair and colorful outfit. His grin was wide and toothy, giving you a warmth in your chest that made you give your brightest smile back as well. And his speech and tone were chipper, easing your nerves the longer you conversed with him.

Namjoon was almost the complete opposite. His demeanor was warm with a sense of calm underneath, further lowering your guard down. But while his smile revealed just as much teeth as his roommate’s, you couldn’t help but notice the dimples sitting outside it. And the sheer baritone of his voice and the articulation of his words had you reeling every time he opened his mouth.

But it was interesting to see how well the two men meshed together despite their differences. It was clear that they were close and had known each other for a while, making jokes at each other’s expenses or slyly revealing their not-so-fun living habits. The longer you spoke to them, the more your mind was being made up.

Three weeks later and you were moving your stuff into their empty third room.

It didn’t take long for you to get settled in, thanks to the guys’ help. Between helping you set up your furniture and cooking or ordering takeout, everything was where you liked it to be and the apartment began feeling like home in no time. You could also credit your roommates themselves.

On the days that you were full of energy and needed to work it out, you would seek out Hoseok for help. Whether it was dancing, playing video games or walking around town looking for new places to visit, you could count on the joyful man to show you a good time. As long as the two of you came back in time (he was strict about his beauty sleep), he’d take you anywhere you would want to go.

And on the days where you felt frazzled, Namjoon was your source of comfort. All you had to do was give him that look and he would be patting the spot next to him with a warm smile. Either the two of you watched a movie or documentary or he would read you whatever book had caught his current interest. Sometimes you could retain the story but other times, you weren’t paying close attention to what character A did to character B. All you could focus on was his soothing, deep voice that lulled you into peace.

If Hoseok was the sun, then Namjoon was your moon.

Fourteen months of this bliss. And yet you couldn’t pinpoint when exactly you fell in love with both Kim Namjoon and Jung Hoseok.

But the realization hit you out of nowhere one day.

You were preparing a salad for dinner and letting your thoughts run as always. Somehow, you ended up thinking about your roommates, even though they were on the other side of the room setting the table. The two of them had to leave town for the weekend so you all decided to have a nice meal together before splitting up. When you thought about it, just two days away was nothing but when you were all used to seeing each other every single day, it could feel like an eternity.

It didn’t help that both of them invited you to come along to their respective hometowns. You wished you could split yourself up in two and keep them company but it just wasn’t possible. On top of that, one of your childhood friends was passing through on a business trip and wanted to spend some time with you. Being the understanding people that they were, Namjoon and Hoseok gave you a smile and a tight hug while telling you not to worry about it. The three of you had plenty of time to make up for it when they returned.

But it wasn’t that that caused the revelation.

It was the daydreaming of doing all sorts of activities with them when you went to their hometowns. Meeting their family and friends. Having them show you the spots they used to frequent as they were growing up. And falling asleep in their arms at the end of the night, despite the promise to their parents that you would sleep in separate rooms.

And the fact that you couldn’t designate it to just one of them. No.

The both of them were in your fantasies.

It was enough to make you gasp and drop your salad tossers, the sound alerting Namjoon and Hoseok. They called out to ask if you were okay, prompting you to reassure them with a peppy voice. Thank goodness they were too far to see the way your hands trembled when you picked up the dirty utensils.

The rest of the night went smoothly but by the next morning, after the guys said goodbye and left you all alone, you were an anxious wreck. How could you have feelings for not one, but two men? And your roommates, at that?

Maybe you were just confused and going through something with your hormones. Being in such close proximity to attractive men was sure to make them go haywire, right? And even if you did have feelings, maybe you felt stronger about one more than the other and needed some time to work it out. Or even a pros and cons list to help decide!

But it was futile.

After weeks of observing your relationships with the guys and writing down an incredibly long list (the pros ended up longer than the cons), you found that your emotions didn’t wane for either of them. In fact, they grew a little more, day by day, for one reason or another.

You were stuck in a corner and ended up on your laptop in the middle of the night one day, searching the web on articles for a term that you had come across in your travels.

Polyamory.

The practice of engaging in multiple romantic (and typically sexual) relationships, with the consent of all the people involved.

Which fit your current dilemma to a T.

While a tiny part of you was happy to find a name for it, the rest of you despaired. You lived in a society that valued monogamous relationships (at least on a surface level but that was a rant for another day) and would look at you with disgust if you even dared to venture outside of the norm. But you could care less about what others would think.

What would Hoseok and Namjoon say if you ever told them?

Would they laugh in your face? Would they call you a greedy slut? Would they ask you to move out because you made them uncomfortable?

All of those thoughts led to you silently crying yourself to sleep.

Your roommates weren’t the judgmental and unforgiving kind so you weren’t sure why you assumed that they would have such a negative reaction to your feelings. These were the same guys who gently reminded you whenever you left your load in the washing machine or that it was your night to wash dishes. But those paled in comparison to your roommate being in love with both you and your friend.

After some time, you couldn’t stay silent anymore.

“I’m gonna come, babygirl…” Namjoon’s bass rumbled out, self-restraint keeping him from going through on his declaration.

You whimpered around Hoseok’s cock and pulled off, strings of spit connecting until you rasped out, “Not yet, Joon—“

Thinking that you didn’t want him to finish inside, he was surprised when you looked back at him with a sweet smile .

“I want Hobi now.”

Namjoon chuckled at your request, giving your bottom a pat. “Oh yeah?” He looked over to Hoseok. “Think you can handle her, Hobi?”

Hoseok scoffed. “Of course I can. C’mere, sweetheart.”

With the invite, Namjoon slowly pulled out of you, your walls weeping for something to fill them up again. Crawling up closer to Hoseok, you squeaked when he picked you up and sat you on his lower stomach while pulling you down for a deep kiss. You moaned as his tongue pressed past your lips to tangle against your own. He pulled away too soon, smirking at how you whimpered.

“I would love to kiss you more, baby, but you need to take care of Joon while I’m fucking you.”

You looked up to see said man standing next to the couch now, slowly stroking his cock, using your wetness to slide up and down the sizable length. Licking your lips at the sight, you batted your lashes. “What do you want me to do, Namjoon?”

“Hmph, I want to get a taste of your mouth, babygirl. Can’t let Hoseok have all the fun.”

A small moan couldn’t help but escape at his statement, wasting no time in nodding. “Yes, Joonie.”

Namjoon grinned and reached down with his free hand to brush some hair out of your heated face. “That’s my Y/N.”

You returned the look at the praise, only for your eyes to widen when you felt something pressing against your entrance. Looking down, you spotted Hoseok holding up his cock to align with you, raising a brow. “Ready for me, Y/N?”

“Yes Hobi, please...”

Grinning at your begging, Hoseok slowly pushed his hips up to begin entering you, swearing under his breath as you engulfed him. Namjoon had opened you up a bit from earlier but it didn’t mitigate the heat and slick that coated his dick. Once he bottomed out, his head tipped back into the couch. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, sweetheart—”

You licked your lips at his reaction while you heard Namjoon give a short laugh. “She feels amazing, doesn’t she?”

“Fuck, yes she does—” Hoseok brought his head back up after collecting himself, eyes nearly black now. “How the fuck did you have the strength to pull out of this?”

“I can’t be selfish, Hoseok, gotta let you have your turn also.”

You piped in, doing your best not to squeeze instinctively, “Exactly. Besides, I would have yelled at Namjoon if he didn’t let you.”

The three of you laughed at your quip, sure that you would go through on your promise if the circumstances ever came up.

“That’s our Y/N, yeah?”

“Yes it is.”

Your smile nearly took over half of your face at the kisses you got on your forehead and cheek from the respective men.

How did you get so lucky?

“Okay...Namjoon. Hoseok.”

You looked at both men when you said their names.

“You...you two are wonderful, you know that?”

Both of their cheeks pinked as shy smiles formed.

“Babygirl, I think we should be saying that about you.”

“Yeah Y/N, we’re just two idiots compared to you.”

“No you’re not! You’re both so amazing...” A grin peeked despite your nerves. “I’m so lucky to have met you guys. My life’s gotten a little brighter since I moved in, honestly. To think I would have missed out on this if I didn’t see that ad...”

Namjoon and Hoseok felt their hearts skip at your words, looking at each other for a couple of seconds before returning their gazes to you.

“Y/N, we’re glad you decided to live with us too. We didn’t expect to get this close with you, honestly.”

“Mhm.” Namjoon chuckled, running a hand through his dark gray strands. “You’re leagues above our last couple of roommates, that’s for sure.”

Hoseok gave one of his sunny grins. “And way cuter, too!”

“Hobi!” You playfully pushed him as he laughed at your embarrassment.

“What, it’s true! Right Joon?”

Namjoon made a slight sound of disapproval. “I don’t know, man—” Now he grinned mischievously. “I don’t think cute is enough to describe her. Maybe stunning? Beautiful? Gorgeous?”

“Guys!”

Now the two of them laughed, leaving you to bury your overheated face in your hands. You didn’t even have to ask them for compliments like that, they just said it without a thought. And with such sincerity...

No wonder you fell for them.

The thought brought you back to focus on what you were supposed to be saying in the first place, your smile dropping as your stomach began twisting again. Bringing your hands back down, you took in a deep breath in a poor attempt to calm yourself. “Guys...sorry, but I need to tell you something important.”

From the tone of your voice, Hoseok and Namjoon’s smiles dropped as well, fearing the worst. Were you sick? Did something happen to a loved one? Were you planning on moving out? All of those options were bad but that last one nearly drove a knife into their hearts.

“What is it, babygirl? Is everything okay?”

“I...”

This was it. Maybe you should look them both in the eyes while you said this. You decided to stand up from the couch and turn towards the men, gripping tight onto your pants while your eyes darted between the two.

“Hoseok...Namjoon. I...”

You had to stop to get rid of the solid lump lodged in your throat.

“I...love you. Like, really love you. I mean, I’m in love with you. The both of you. But...” You chewed on your bottom lip. “I can’t help but feel like it’s so wrong of me to...to feel that way. There’s people who are in this same situation who said it’s normal, as long as everyone is treated equally—”

You had to pause to take in a shaking breath.

“But then, that’s a minority. Most don’t have romantic feelings for two people at the same time but, haha, it’s happening to me right now!”

Namjoon and Hoseok, despite their shock, frowned at the uneasy laugh you let out.

“The crazy thing is, I don’t know when this could have happened...it’s like I just woke up one day and realized ‘hey, I’m in love with both of my roommates!’. And I tried, I tried so hard to...” Your grip tightened as tears started filling your eyes. “To see if maybe my feelings skewed towards one more than the other but—”

You shook your head. “They didn’t.”

“The more I thought about it, the more I knew that I loved the both of you equally. Even on the days where I was annoyed or upset with either one of you. Now…”

It was incredibly difficult not to turn into a blubbering mess but you had these last few words to say.

“I-I don’t expect you guys to feel the same way. I know you love me but if it’s just as a friend t-then…”

You looked each of them in the eye, the smile on your lips wobbling while a tear escaped.

“Then I c-can live with that. I just don’t want you two to hate me for feeling this way…”

The air in the room was heavy and silent. So silent a pin dropping could be heard. You didn’t want to say anymore, ready yet dreading to see Hoseok and Namjoon’s reactions.

“Y/N.”

Namjoon’s voice came out softly, prompting you to gaze at his gentle expression.

“Come here, babygirl.” His built arms stretched out towards you. “Sit with us.”

Nodding shyly, you walked back over to the couch, letting him pull you down into your previous spot. As soon as you were fully seated, Namjoon wrapped his arm around your shoulder once more. “So you love us?”

“M-Mhm…”

Hoseok scooted closer and reached up to carefully stroke the back of your hair. “Sweetheart, we could never hate you for that. You can’t help who you fall in love with.”

All you were capable of was nodding, preparing yourself for the rejection.

“Actually…we’re glad you said something first.”

It took a couple of seconds for you to understand what Namjoon said but once it hit, you peered at him with confusion.

“Y-You are?”

“Yeah—“ The usually steadfast man had an odd yet endearing look of bashfulness on his face. “Hoseok and I, we…we actually had a little talk a couple of weeks ago. A-About you.”

At your sound of surprise, Hoseok jumped in now, sounding just as shy as his friend. “Y/N, Namjoon, he…he came up to me one day when you were out and said he had to talk to me about something important. Wanna know what he said?”

“What did he say?”

Hoseok chuckled, giving the other man a teasing grin as his cheeks reddened.

“He said ‘I think I’m in love with Y/N’.”

Those seven words almost caused your heartbeat to cease.

Your head swung over to gape at Namjoon, barely able to keep full eye contact with you now. “N-Namjoon, you…”

“Yeah, babygirl. But there’s something else you need to know too.” With a jerk of your chin, he continued. “When I told Hoseok that, he got this odd look on his face. I asked him what was up and well—“

Now he smirked at the other, who looked up at the ceiling light like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“He fessed up too.”

“Too? Hobi, do you mean…?”

Hoseok brought his eyes back onto you, nodding firmly despite his darkened cheeks. “Yes sweetheart…I’m in love with you also.”

Was this a dream? How could both Namjoon and Hoseok be in love with you too?

But there was still a major problem that the three of you needed to discuss.

“Guys...I-I’m still trying to process this but I need to know something else.”

“What is it?”

“Well...” You chewed on your lip as you contemplated how to word this. “How...how are we going to go about this now? I mean—” You brought your hands up in a mild shrug. “I don’t know how you guys feel about what I mentioned earlier...”

“About...being in a relationship with both of us?”

“Yes...”

This was the part where you were expecting them to say that they weren’t on board with that, wanting to just get their feelings out in the open to ease your anxiety.

But then you felt each of your roommates take a respective hand in theirs, giving you a snug yet comforting grip.

“Y/N.”

Both Namjoon and Hoseok shifted their bodies so you could see them both at the same time, their expressions determined.

“Would you really want to be involved with both of us?”

It didn’t take you long to respond.

“Yes, I would. But only if the two of you are comfortable with it.” Your gaze hardened to show how serious you were. “It wouldn’t be fair to force you guys into something that you don’t want to do.”

For a while, the living room was silent as you awaited for Namjoon and Hoseok’s response. You averted your eyes for now, not wanting to make them feel pressured. This wasn’t a decision that you could make on a whim.

After some time, a broad hand took each of yours into its grip, prompting you to redirect your gaze on the objects of your affections. Their dark brown eyes housed nothing but devotion as they gave you tender smiles.

“Y/N, we’re fine with it.”

Your eyes widened and your posture perked at Hoseok’s approval. “R-Really? Are you sure?”

“Yes babygirl—” Namjoon let out a low chuckle. “You know, this actually came up when Hobi and I fessed up to each other.”

With a tilt of your head, the other man took over and continued, “Yeah, he asked ‘but what if she, in some way, ends up returning both of our feelings? What do we do?’.” Hoseok gave his friend a grin. “I couldn’t bring myself to screw over my guy like that so I brought up, well, this.”

Namjoon shook his head, rubbing the back of your hand with a thumb. “I thought he was messing with me so I got mad until I saw how serious he was. We considered it and well, we weren’t really against it. In a way, we were feeling kind of selfish—” That dimpled smile of his returned. “Better to have the two of us than to see you with someone else.”

Each word that came out of their mouths only escalated your elation, your lips curling up more and more until most of your teeth were showing. Words alone couldn’t express how joyful you were right now. You let go of their hands to pull their bodies towards yours in a group hug, wrapping your arms around as much of their torsos as you could. As their respective arms curved around your back, you whispered out, “I love you guys. So much.”

Namjoon pressed his full lips to one of your ears. “I love you too, Y/N.”

Hoseok brushed his own against the other one. “And I love you just as much, Y/N.”

“Shit, that’s it—“ Hoseok chuckled deeply at how enthusiastically you moved on him, lewd noises from your connected bodies like music to his ears. “You’re such a good girl, Y/N, taking our cocks so well, mnh—“

“M-Mhh—”

You would’ve loved to thank him if it wasn’t for Namjoon’s cock sitting in your mouth.

“Fuck, babygirl...” He panted as he watched your head bob on him, some drool starting to leak out. “You sure know how to work that pretty mouth of yours, ngh—”

Now Hoseok’s gaze went back up to what his friend mentioned, licking his lips as he remembered how it felt to be inside it earlier. It wasn’t as gratifying as your pussy, of course, but the way you swirled your tongue on him and tightened your lips had him understanding the heaven Namjoon was in right now.

“She does, doesn’t she? You been thinking about having us like this for a while, Y/N?”

Another muffled moan was what Hoseok received, making the man standing tsk and reach down to hold your hair, carefully easing you off of his length. “Answer him, baby.”

You almost pouted up at Namjoon in withdrawal but those dragon eyes fixed you with a fierce stare that urged you to follow through.

“M-Mhm...for too long.”

Both men twitched at your admission, eyes lidding even further.

“Oh yeah? Do you touch yourself when you think about us, darling?” Hoseok slid his hands down to grope your ass, grunting at how you clenched on him. “Do you work that little pussy over until you come?”

“O-Oh— Yes Hobi...”

“Fuck— I thought I heard suspicious noises coming from your room at night...” Namjoon reached down for your hand, guiding it to wrap around his cock. “Wish we knew what the deal was, we would have shown you just what we’ve been wanting to do to you, baby.”

A whimper fell from your lips at his words as you started stroking his slick skin. “J-Joonie...”

Namjoon grunted at the friction, moving his hips in time. “If only you knew how much we wanted you, Y/N...we would’ve let you do anything to us.”

“Fuck, guys— I would’ve let you do the same too, ah!”

Hoseok groaned as he thrusted hard in response. “Goddamn, sweetheart, you’re so considerate, so caring...”

You were distracted by all of the other sensations and jolted when you felt the tip of a long finger circling your puckered hole.

“H-Hobi!”

He sat up and let a sensual chuckle out against your ear. “I wonder if you’d be able to take one of us back here one of these days? Would you be into that, sweetheart?”

At that, the thought of having either of their cocks filling you up in an area that had never been explored before made you whimper and tighten on Hoseok.

“Shit, really, babygirl?” Namjoon reached down to hold your chin and tip your face up towards him. “You’d let us fuck that tight ass of yours?”

“Y-Yes Joonie...ngh—”

The man standing next to you smirked and let out a short laugh, wiping away some of the spit on your lips with his thumb. “So dirty...but it’s only for us, right?”

“Yes Namjoon, only for you and Hobi, ah!”

Hoseok seemed to like that as he gave a harder thrust while pulling your hips down with a growl. “Damn straight. Maybe you’d even let us have you at the same time?”

Now the seed he was planting began making your mind go haywire, willing to try the suggestion. You loved these two to death. Had it been anyone else, you would have recoiled at the idea but you trusted Namjoon and Hoseok to take good care of you, making sure you were as comfortable as possible before even attempting such an act.

“Yes Hoseok...I would—! God, I love you two so much...”

Both men felt their hearts skip and their groins tighten at your passionate words, prompting the one under you to take your mouth into a deep kiss before the other did the same the second you were released.

Only for them you would be like this.

The three of you stayed in the embrace for what felt like a lifetime, just enjoying the touch and trying to calm the butterflies lingering in your stomachs. You were the one to break the hold though, because of something that you wanted to do.

As you sat back, you eyed both of them with your lip caught between your teeth.

“What is it, Y/N?”

“I...well—” Your face warmed at what you were about to say. “I want to kiss the both of you but...”

Hoseok’s lips quirked. “But you don’t know who to kiss first?”

All you could do was nod shyly. Amazing how they could read you like a book.

Namjoon chuckled. “It’s up to you, babygirl. I won’t get jealous.”

Hoseok reflected the sentiment, leaving you to look between the two until you made your decision.

“Namjoon...”

The gray-haired man cocked his head until you motioned him to come closer. It was adorable how his eyes widened as he looked at Hoseok first in disbelief, receiving a sunny grin and a thumbs up in encouragement. Once his gaze returned to you, Namjoon jumped a bit at how close you were to him now. He could almost feel the heat of your soft breaths on him.

But as soon as you gave him that gorgeous smile of yours, his nerves swept away.

The second his eyes relaxed, you began leaning in and closed your eyes along the way. Namjoon did the same, making a soft sound when your lips finally touched and moved against each other’s. A warmth blossomed in your chests at the kiss, spreading throughout both of your bodies and making your heads a bit dizzy. But before the two of you could get too carried away, he pulled back, running his tongue over his full lips.

“Mm...that felt so nice, Y/N...”

You shared the feeling with the same move, noticing how Namjoon’s eyes followed your tongue.

Then you felt a weight on your shoulder before a whisper sounded in your ear. “Don’t forget about me, darling.”

Turning around, you were now face to face with Hoseok, looking at you with a barely held back grin. Shooting him your own smile as well, you leaned in and saw darkness as your mouth pressed against his. His felt different from the other’s yet was just as enjoyable, especially with the low noise he let out in the middle of it. You had to force yourself to move away from this kiss too, biting your lip at the adoring gaze Hoseok gave you.

“Wow...”

A giggle escaped you at his breathless exclamation.

“Yeah...”

Namjoon couldn’t help but chuckle at the display in front of him but he couldn’t shake this feeling that started building in his chest from having you kiss him. He knew what he wanted and hoped he wasn’t being too greedy with what he was about to ask.

“Y/N...” When you looked back at him, your stomach flipped at the needy look on his face. “Can you kiss me again?”

While your body was ready to fulfill his wish, your brain told you to remember that he wasn’t the only other person in the room. You looked at Hoseok with a questioning gaze. He wasted no time in nodding, speaking with a modest grin, “Only if you promise to kiss me again too.”

And with that, you indulged the both of them with endless kisses.

But the longer you kissed, the more intense they became with strokes of tongues and lip bites. These actions left a shock traveling down your spine each time, manifesting into an uncomfortable heat between your thighs. Having two pairs of lips constantly touching yours and feeling their hands occasionally roaming on your waist and hips had you feeling incredibly turned on.

“Y/N...”

Opening your eyes as you pulled back from Hoseok’s kiss, your breath hitched at how the mood in his dark eyes shifted into something less innocent. “Yes Hobi?”

“You’re really liking this right now, aren’t you?”

With that, he peered down to your thighs subtly rubbing together for friction.

“Y-Yeah...”

You heard Namjoon take in a sharp inhale as he scooted closer from behind, resting his chin on your left shoulder as he looked down at your legs. “You keep squirming, babygirl...are you wet, too?”

You held back a whimper at how his voice lowered even further with his question. “I am, Namjoon...sorry, I can’t help it.”

The two men let out an incredulous laugh at your apology before Hoseok took your right hand and pressed it to the stiffness lying underneath his pants. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to apologize for a damn thing.”

As if your face wasn’t hot enough from palming his erection, Namjoon held your other one and brought it behind you to lie on top of his own, chuckling at the soft gasp you let out. “Yeah, you think we’re not just as turned on?”

Now your underwear received a fresh wave of wetness at what laid under your palms, glad to know you weren’t the only one being affected by the kissing. But now you wondered whether anything would happen to help the situation.

“Joonie, Hobi...” The groans they let out when you gave them a squeeze was like music to your ears. “Do you...do you think we should do something about it?”

Hoseok and Namjoon looked at each other, having a silent conversation with their eyes. It took a minute before the former responded to you.

“Sweetheart...if you’re okay with it, then yes.”

“Yeah, don’t feel pressured, you’re not obligated to do anything. Just know that we want you just as bad and we’ll understand if you say no.”

But that was the thing; your answer was nowhere near that.

“Namjoon. Hoseok.”

The two looked at you, prompting you to give each of them a flustered gaze.

“I’ve dreamt about this for so long...I want it. I want to know what the both of you feel like.”

With your words lingering with desire, both men nodded and leant in, ready to give you what you wanted.

For a while, you didn’t know exactly what was going on.

All you could feel was skin, wandering hands, wet lips and strong grips.

All you could hear were whispers, groans and moans of your name.

This was a dream come true.

Namjoon found his end getting closer and closer with each second that passed, the visual of you helping it speed up.

Even his wildest dreams couldn’t conjure up the exact image of your lips wrapped around his cock and the feel of your moans as you bounced on Hoseok’s lap.

Hoseok was in the same dilemma, the sounds from his mouth becoming more frequent and harsh.

You kept squeezing his cock every moment and coated it with your arousal, leaving a bit of a mess between your hips while he watched you suck off Namjoon up above.

And as for you, you weren’t faring much better.

The knot in your lower stomach was tightening more and more as the men pleasured you, giving praises and encouragement that brought you closer to the edge.

Forcing yourself to pull off of Namjoon’s dick, you quickly made up for the absence by wrapping your hand around him, stroking with enough force and speed to keep those groans falling from his lips still.

“Sh-Shit, guys, I-I’m...”

With your whine, the two of them twitched and got to work with helping you out, Hoseok with his sudden change in pace and Namjoon with his gruff words.

“That’s it, beautiful, keep going— Let us see that pretty face of yours when you come...”

“H-Hah, Namjoon...”

“You’re fucking amazing, Y/N—” Hoseok grinned deviously at the sharp cry you let out a certain thrust he gave. “You’ve been treating us so well, you deserve a reward...wanna feel this pussy squeezing me—”

Their dirty talk helped immensely but it still wasn’t enough. You just kept letting them speak to you, making sure to keep your hand moving on Namjoon until a deep thrust from Hoseok made you yelp and pull a little too hard. Immediately, you heard a long groan rip from Namjoon’s mouth.

“O-Oh fuck, Y/N—!”

Too focused on the way Hoseok was pounding into you, you let out a startled gasp when you felt something warm and wet splash on your face repeatedly. You didn’t get the chance to look and see what it was when the man underneath you gasped and dug his fingers into your hips as he buried his cock inside of you.

“S-Shit, sweetheart, I— Ah!”

And then you felt something of the same consistency filling up your pussy, moaning shakily at the heat coating your walls.

“O-Oh Hobi...ah...”

For the next minute, you remained steady with a palm on Hoseok’s chest while your other hand was loosely wrapped around Namjoon’s cock still. You could feel the muscles underneath you heaving while the length between your fingers gave minuscule twitches. But your eyes darted between both of their faces, glowing with sweat and relief, lips parted as harsh breaths escaped.

“Fuck, Namjoon, did you have to do that on her face?”

“I-I didn’t mean to! Shit, I’m so sorry, babygirl, are you okay?”

Namjoon took your chin into one of his large hands, an embarrassed and apologetic look on his face as his eyes ran over the trails of his come. “Really, it was an accident, your hand pulled too hard and I-I just lost it— Here, let me get you a tissue.”

He let go of your head and turned to grab the box on the coffee table, only to swear when he realized it was empty. Namjoon ran off to the kitchen instead (but not before bumping his shin into the corner of the table) in search of something to clean you with. Which left you alone with Hoseok.

“Pft, I can’t believe he came on your face.”

You looked down to see the lavender-haired man giving you an amused smile, eyeing the mess with a shaking head.

“Neither can I...I mean, it was an accident but I wasn’t expecting that.”

Hoseok chuckled weakly. “Good ol’ clumsy Joon.”

You failed to hold back your giggle as you smacked his chest with the back of your hand. “Hobi, be nice. You think you wouldn’t have done the same if you were in his position?”

“I wouldn’t have. But...” His teeth flashed as he smirked up at you. “You do look pretty with come all over your face, bet it’d look even better with mine on it too.”

The thought of it made your throbbing walls give a clench around his softening dick, pulling a grunt from him.

“Fuck, you didn’t come yet, did you?”

Your cheeks heated up as you shook your head. Hoseok was about to respond when Namjoon returned, a paper towel in his hand. He bent down and carefully cleaned up your face, giving you a dimpled smile when he was done.

“There, all better.”

You giggled and reached up to give his short hair a ruffle. “Thank you Joonie.”

Namjoon nodded and tossed the soiled sheet into the nearby trashcan. He took notice of the odd look on Hoseok’s face, still looking at your face in thought.

“What’s up, Hobi?”

Hoseok gave the other a stern look. “She didn’t come yet.”

Namjoon’s eyes widened, realizing that he was right. Even if he didn’t say anything, he could tell by the way your body trembled and your hips kept shifting.

“Shit...babygirl, we’ve gotta take care of you now.”

You couldn’t hold back the shakiness of your voice as you pleaded, “Please guys, I need to come, please!”

The emotion you gave only solidified their resolve, prompting Hoseok to take action first.

“Namjoon, sit behind her.”

Namjoon didn’t question his friend, trusting him and obliging as he sat down on the couch. The second he was down, Hoseok held your hips and lifted you off of him, making you whine at the loss until it turned into a squeak when he nearly tossed you to recline against Namjoon’s muscled body. Before you could ask him what that was for, the man behind you leaned down and cooed in your ear, “Shh, baby, just sit back and relax.”

His words effectively shut you up, along with Hoseok spreading your legs as far as possible. The lavender-haired man kept his eyes on yours as he lowered his head down to be eye level with your entrance, watching as his come slowly leaked out of it.

“I don’t know which would look better, my come dripping out of you or painted on your beautiful face.”

You felt Namjoon chuckle. “I’m sure they’re both amazing sights.”

“Hmph, true. But enough talking—”

You couldn’t brace yourself enough for Hoseok’s mouth latching onto you, pulling a cry from your throat.

“H-Hoseok—!”

“Shh, shh—” Now Namjoon brought his hands up to begin playing with your breasts, running over them in the way you liked. “It feels good, doesn’t it, babygirl?”

“Y-Yes—”

You wanted to watch Hoseok’s head moving between your shaking legs and Namjoon’s broad hands rolling your nipples but this was all just too much.

All you could do was lie back, close your eyes and let your lovers take care of you.

Everything they were doing was leading up to the orgasm that had kept escaping you, causing your body to writhe between theirs, moans and cries filling the living room.

“I-I’m going t-to, a-ah—!”

“Y/N—”

You heard Hoseok’s raspy voice sound when he pulled off of you for a second.

“H-Hoseok...”

“Y/N—”

You then heard Namjoon’s gruff voice in your right ear as he gave your breasts a strong grope.

“N-Namjoon!”

You were so close.

“Y/N—”

“Y/N, Y/N, wake up!”

Your eyes flew open at the almost frantic delivery of your name but instead of seeing Namjoon and Hoseok’s faces filled with lust, you saw them filled with worry.

“H-Huh?”

Namjoon let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God, you woke up.”

Hoseok nodded, heart-shaped lips downturned. “Yeah, I was about to go get some ice water to throw on you!”

Woke up? But you didn’t fall asleep on them, not when you were so close to a mind-blowing orgasm. What were they talking about?

You shifted yourself, about to sit up, until your hand brushed against something soft and fuzzy. Looking down, you saw one of your stuffed animals lying right next to you. What was Mr. Peachy doing out here on the couch?

Pouting, you noticed that Ms. Pon Pon was also here, lying on the familiar light-colored blanket as well.

…wait.

Light-colored blanket? But the couch was dark leather.

Now you really opened your eyes, looking around to see that you were not on the living room couch but in the comfort of your own bed.

…wait.

Was it all a dream?!

Judging by the fact that your roommates were still fully clothed and eyeing you with concern (mixed with something else) and your panties were still on and uncomfortably soaked, yes.

It was all a dream.

You could cry right now.

But instead of doing that and alarming the two men further, you let out a whining groan before starfishing on the bed. “God-fucking-dammit.”

“Uh, Y/N…?”

“S-Sorry guys...I, um, was having an...interesting dream.”

Hoseok raised a brow. “It sounded interesting...we could hear you from outside your door.”

Remembering just what you were saying before you had a rude awakening, your head darted up to look between the two men with slight worry. “What, um, what did you hear?”

Now they became flustered, refusing to look anywhere but your face. Namjoon got the courage to speak first, scratching the back of his head.

“We heard you, well, saying our names...”

“More like moaning them...”

“Hoseok!” Namjoon hissed at the other, smacking him on the arm. “We agreed we weren’t going to say anything to embarrass her!”

“I-I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it! I just...” Hoseok’s face reddened in the light of your lamp. “Never heard you say them like that before.”

You were looking at the lavender-haired man while he explained, biting your lip at the way his eyes seemed to darken now.

“Oh...I’m sorry guys, I...you must feel really uncomfortable right now.”

You expected them to tease you or laugh it off but all you got was silence. Which prompted you to look between the two, breath catching at their expressions.

Hoseok still had that look on his face, his gaze often landing between your pressed together thighs with an intensity that made you wetter. Namjoon had a little more restraint but it couldn’t conceal the way his eyes lidded, lingering on your breasts and the pebbled nipples poking through your sleep shirt.

“Guys?”

Your call made them both jump, eyes widening.

“O-Oh, uh...”

Wanting to leave this awkward situation (and provide some relief to yourself), you clambered off the bed and stood to give them a shaky smile. “I-I’m gonna go take a shower and head back to bed. Thanks for checking up on me!”

But before you could take more than two steps forward, Namjoon and Hoseok blocked you off.

“Y/N.”

Looking up at their faces in confusion, you gasped quietly at the lustful expressions on them.

“J-Joonie? H-Hobi?”

“Were you dreaming about us?”

Your jaw could have fallen off with how much it dropped at Namjoon’s question.

“Wh-What? Why would you—”

“Don’t lie, sweetheart.” Hoseok stepped around to stand behind you, barely a centimeter between your bodies as he leaned down to husk in your ear. “You were moaning our names like we were making you feel good.”

“Yeah—” Namjoon moved in to hold your chin, tilting it up so you could look directly into his dragon eyes. “And we can see how wet you are, you’re soaking through your damn shorts.”

...so that wasn’t your imagination.

“I...”

“Answer us, babygirl.”

They didn’t seem to be angry at the possibility so you gathered your courage and nodded in his grip.

“Yeah...I was dreaming about you two.”

You could hear the both of them take in a sharp breath at your confession.

“Fuck, Y/N...you want us too?”

“Too? You mean...?”

“Yes baby...” Namjoon leaned down to hover his face in front of yours. “Has it not been obvious?”

Was it? You just assigned their affection as platonic, not wanting to set yourself up for inevitable disappointment. But judging by the way they were pressed against you right now...

“I...I was never sure.”

Hoseok laughed behind you, sensual instead of his usual rowdy one. “I guess we should have been a little more clearer, eh Joon?”

“Yeah, to think our poor Y/N has been missing out all this time—” Those dimples couldn’t soften the sharpness of his smirk. “We’re not very considerate roommates, are we?”

You felt the fire of your arousal rekindling as they spoke alongside sparks lighting in your chest at the acknowledgment that yes, Namjoon and Hoseok really did feel the same.

“Then...can you two help me? I...” You rested your hands on Namjoon’s firm chest while you pushed your ass back against Hoseok’s crotch. “I can’t take it anymore, it hurts so much.”

Two groans were your reward, along with hands grabbing your hips and another set cupping your face.

“Of course, Y/N.”

“Why don’t you show us exactly what we were doing in your little dream, darling?”

With a grin, you motioned the two to get on your bed, ready to relay each and every detail to them.

All you knew was that if this was yet another dream, Mr. Sandman better let you come before he brought you back to reality.

©bangtanintotheroom, 2022. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

[duskholland]

Ritual || Boxer!Tom Smut

boxer!tom x reader — smut.

summary ↠ with the championship fight less than two weeks away, tom adopts a series of frustrating pre-match rituals.... based off the request ↠ ‘boxer!tom refuses to have sex for two weeks before a big match then he wins a belt and becomes the top boxer and his s/o patches him up like she does after every match, but it quickly turns into really intense victory sex with dom!tom’ I changed a couple bits but this is pretty much the same :)) warnings ↠ this gets very, very smutty. for that reason, 18+ pls !! extended nsfw warnings are beneath the cut but this spirals into v intense smut. so just. watch out pls. word count ↠ 8k a/n ↠ I almost died when I wrote this. truly. I felt a piece of my soul leave my body. sheeeesh. anyway uh... this was a lot of fun to write! I found out so many fun facts about sports psychology whilst researching this, so thanks boxer!tom for enlightening me on the fun world of pre-match-rituals. enjoy!

*:·ﾟ���*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

extended nsfw warnings: fem masturbation, oral (fem and male receiving), mentions of vibrating egg, edging and denial, dirty talk, reader definitely has a pain kink (...): biting, spanking + hair pulling, face-fucking, dom!tom, rough sex™️, shower shenanigans, doggy-style, unprotected sex — please wrap before you tap if you do this irl thank you very very much !!

*:·ﾟ✧Ritual ✧·ﾟ:*

Thump. Smack. Thump.

Tom’s fists rain down over the punching bag, and there’s a metallic clicking sound as the object goes spinning in the air. You watch as he pirouettes around the bag, dodging its movements between swings, getting in hit after hit after hit. He slowly works his way around the object, his face screwed into an expression of empowered determination as he alternates which bright red glove he uses to pound against the fabric.

You sigh, loudly, the sound dying in the near-empty gym. There’s just something about Tom in the days preceding a fight that makes you squirm.

He’s different. Still the man you know and love so effortlessly, but heightened in the most attractive ways. His senses pull sharper, his jaw carrying a firm line to it, his eyes like roaring fires. As Tom pounds his fists against the bag, his sweaty brown curls stick to the top of his forehead, contrasting the bright pink tones staining his cheeks. You watch the muscles in his arms tense and flex, pale skin on display due to the tight black vest that clings tightly to his torso. You know if he turned around properly, you’d be able to make out the sunken lines of his abs, packed rigidly with muscle.

You bite your lower lip, stifling a moan. You find Tom attractive enough under normal conditions, let alone when he’s like this: eyes glowing with determination, body burning with passion as he takes swing after swing at the punching bag like he’s got a personal vendetta against it.

“Having fun?”

You startle, clutching at your chest as you turn around to look at Harrison Osterfield, Tom’s sports psychologist. A frown instantly springs out across your mouth, and you reach up to begrudgingly take the bottle of water he offers you.

“I hate you,” you grunt. You sit up a little straighter before leaning back against the wall. You’re waiting for Tom to finish his workout, sitting on one of the benches in the gym. You’d started out the session sparring together, but you’d called quits after twenty minutes against him. Unlike Tom, you don’t have the biggest fight of your career in two weeks—and, honestly, you enjoy watching him like this more than you enjoy trying to keep up with him in the ring.

Harrison frowns as he drops to sit beside you, nudging your shoulder.

“I’m wounded, love,” he says, smirking at you. “What have I done this time?”

You roll your eyes. “You know exactly what you’ve done, Haz.”

Harrison raises an eyebrow, tutting. “You know this is for the best, Y/N.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Fuck the best.”

When Harrison had joined Tom’s team at the start of the season, he’d come boasting all the new sciences of a young university graduate. He’d suggested Tom adopt a series of rituals to help him focus before a big match—small things, initially, like taking cold showers and limiting the time he spends on his phone. Yet, as the competition has progressed and Tom has risen further and further up the ranks, the rituals have grown more intense, more focused. It’s reached the point that now, two weeks before the big match, Tom has reached his final form. As instructed, he visits the sauna every other day, receives daily massages from the most esteemed sports therapists in Europe, drinks multiple cups of pure, fresh herbal tea a day. There are no distractions—his phone is permanently on silent, he’s cut out naps, he’s eliminated music. No distractions, no impurities, no sex.

No sex, because according to Harrison, nothing gets adrenaline rushing and frustration festering like an extended period of denial. No sex, which is a problem, for you, because Tom has never looked as fit as he does now, launching himself at the punching bag, sweat dripping down his forehead. His biceps flex and bulge and you have to cross your legs as you tighten your grip on the water bottle.

“He’ll win,” Harrison mutters, lowly. You glance towards him, taking in the sight of the older man with his face doused in the harsh fluorescent lights of the gym. “He’s good. Got the best form I’ve ever seen.” He lowers his voice, glancing at you shrewdly. “Don’t distract him, alright? He’s on fire.”

You grumble something incoherent beneath your breath before sighing and sitting up straighter.

“It’s fucked that you get to decide when I get laid, Haz. You know that, right?”

He raises an eyebrow, cheeks blushing a light pink. “Uh, well, I didn’t actually know that he’d go through with that part of it,” Harrison admits. “But if it works, don’t knock it. He wants to win.”

You sit back, resting your shoulders against the wall as you groan. “I want him to win, too,” you say. You look down at your fingers, playing with some of the rings sitting behind your knuckles. “I think it’ll kill him if he doesn’t.”

Both of you look back at Tom, who’s ditched the gloves. You watch him talk with his coach, running a hand through his sweaty hair as he nods, looking focused as he listens to the pointers and tips. You release a relieved sigh as Tom’s coach pats him on the back and walks off, leaving Tom to pick up his towel and his bottle before sauntering over to you and Harrison.

“Hi.” Tom tosses his stuff onto the bench before reaching for your hands. He pulls you up easily and quickly, causing you to squeal as you find yourself in his arms. He’s hot, his entire body flushed with the sweaty, adrenaline-filled afterglow of a good, long workout, and you laugh as he dives down to kiss your neck, soft curls tickling you. “Missed you, darling.”

He works his way up your neck, nibbling softly at your skin before pressing a kiss to your jaw, then your chin, and then, finally, your mouth. It’s light, but then you push against him eagerly and wrap your arms around his neck, and pull him deeper. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you moan happily as you enjoy the feeling of Tom, his skin warm and flushed, his pulse vibrating against you, and his mouth, coming over yours again and again.

“I’m right here,” Harrison mutters, speaking up from behind you. You groan, give Tom a final kiss, and then begrudgingly pull back.

“Sorry,” you call out, stepping closer to Tom as you turn your head to look at Harrison. Tom’s arms come around your waist, and he holds you nearer, humming as he presses his face into your shoulder. “You can always leave.”

Harrison rolls his eyes as he flips you off, causing Tom to chuckle.

“Y/N,” Tom mumbles, voice fond. “Harrison can stay if he wants to stay. I was thinking we could all go get dinner or something.”

To your relief, Harrison is quick to shake his head. He pulls on his jacket as he looks between you and Tom, his eyes lingering on you for a moment as they twinkle with amusement.

“It’s fine. I’ll leave you both alone. I think Y/N’s had enough of me, anyway.” He’s teasing, and you all know it, but you still throw out an easing pout as you shrug.

“Night, Haz,” you say, leaning further into Tom, who echoes your sentiments. As soon as Harrison’s gone, Tom spins you in his arms, his brown eyes bright and glowing with adoration. He kisses you again, and you sigh as you melt further into him, the spark in the pit of your stomach roaring back to life as Tom’s tongue teases your lower lip.

“Come shower with me,” Tom murmurs, hands roaming your back. He pecks the side of your mouth a few times as you hum.

“I can’t,” you find yourself saying, though it pains you considerably. Tom abruptly stops his kisses.

“Why not?” He pouts, pulling back to stare at you. He looks a little bit like an injured puppy, eyes wide with hurt. He squeezes your waist for emphasis.

“We’re in the two-week window, Tom,” you remind him. You reach up, lightly cupping his very hot, very sweaty face, in your palm. “You know we can’t.”

He groans, then dramatically lets his forehead fall to rest on your shoulder. You chuckle, rolling your eyes as you let him pout and rub his back.

“I love you,” he says, after a moment. He pulls back, kissing your neck briefly before sighing. “Thanks for putting up with this.”

“It’s okay.” You bite your lip, tilting your head to the side as you examine him carefully. “It’s kind of hot. You get so frustrated.”

Tom just narrows his eyes, staring at you with an expression mixed between amusement and frustration.

“Go on, champ,” you say, pushing his shoulder gently. “Go shower so we can go home, yeah?”

Tom begrudgingly steps back, opening and closing his mouth a few times as if he’s going to try and change your mind again, but he doesn’t. As much as you know he wants to drag you into a steamy cubicle, his desire to win his match is stronger.

“Be back soon, darling,” he says. “Don’t miss me too much.”

———

The days burn by slowly.

About a week in, you find yourself snapping. You always try to adopt pseudo-chastity with Tom, feeling a little guilty every time you sneak your hand between your legs and chase the highs he can only dream about finding. Yet, you end up reaching breaking point and giving in to temptation one evening, alone in your flat. Tom’s out late at the gym, at the point in the regime where he’s spending most of his days hauled up in the large building, and you just can’t help yourself: you’re so horny.

If you asked him to get you off, you know he’d agree, never wanting to deny you anything. Tom loves you, loves watching you fall apart for him, loves the power trip that comes with knowing your pleasure is in his hands, but you’d just feel too mean. His refusal to have sex in the lead up is as much psychological as it is anything else—you know he finds energy in the ritual, finds aggressive, fiery hormones in the fourteen days of denial. You’d never want to put him in the position where he got tempted to break, no matter how badly you want to cum.

So, you decide to take care of your ache yourself. Or, at least, you try to.

You start off strong. Teasing yourself over your panties, drawing your fingers over the front of your covered sex. You let your eyes flutter shut as you think about Tom, recounting some of the last few sessions you’ve witnessed at the gym. You think about him, his biceps flexing and curling, the subtle curves of his long, slender fingers, his mouth. His features blur, and you find yourself moaning as you dip your fingers beneath the soft cotton and start to stroke your folds. You circle your clit for a while before dipping down to your entrance, touching the pool of your arousal and groaning as you wet your fingers. As your arousal starts to build, you tease your clit, accompanying the action with your other hand after a while. It feels good—so, so good—as you tease your g-spot with your fingers, keeping your thumb on your clit, edging, and edging, and edging, and—

You can’t cum.

A frown settles on your face as you start to grow frustrated. You try to change things up, slowing your movements, letting the high ebb away before trying again. Instead of reaching climax like you crave, you find yourself resting on the edge instead. You’re aroused, your cunt throbbing, your clit tingling, but you can’t quite get there. It’s frustrating.

You’re so caught up in your irritation that you miss the loud slam of the front door, too absorbed in the sounds of your wetness to hear Tom’s yell of greeting. Your eyes are shut as your boyfriend enters the bedroom. You’re not aware he’s home until you hear him tutting, his voice stacked full of amusement and lust. Your eyelids flutter open, and you find yourself looking at him, wide-eyed like a deer stuck in the headlight.

“T-Tom,” you whimper, your movements stilling. You have your legs spread wide open, two fingers buried in your heat, your other hand draped over your bud. A shy smile finds its way across your lips as you batter your eyelashes at him, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of your boyfriend, drowning in a black hoodie and tight blue denim jeans. His hair lies in fresh, air-dried curls, his eyes dark pools of lust. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Tom repeats, imitating your tone. He pushes himself away from the bedroom wall, walking towards you like a lion stalking his prey. You whimper when he reaches down to touch your leg, sliding his hand over your shin teasingly. His eyes glint as he hears you, gaze fixed on the spot between your legs where your hands have stilled. “Oh, please don’t stop on my account, darling,” he teases, smirking. “Keep going. Just because I can’t have fun, doesn’t mean you should have to suffer too.”

You bite your lip, recognising all too well the teasing glint in his eye.

“I can’t,” you admit, shifting around on the mattress as Tom kneels on the end of the bed. Both of his hands are on your legs now, slowly, teasingly, dragging his touch up your shins. Your breath hitches as he slowly works his way up, dipping his head so he’s able to kiss each of your knees, his lips warm and tender.

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

He’s lying down, settled between your legs, slowly kissing up the inside of one of your thighs. It’s hard to concentrate with him so close to your centre.

“Can’t get there,” you mutter, slowly pulling both of your hands away from your mound, leaving you exposed. Tom leans up, raising his eyebrows until you offer him the fingers you’d had buried inside your entrance. He hums as he sucks on your fingers, the sight of him making you moan softly. “I get so close, but I can’t get over the edge.”

Tom licks at the tips of your fingers before releasing them, smirking slowly. “What a shame,” he drawls, sounding the opposite. Both of his hands go to the soft sides of your thighs, and you let him pry your legs apart. He’s so close to your cunt that you can feel his warm breath fanning out across your bud, your folds, your entrance. “Looks like neither of us can cum this week, hmm?”

Before you can reply, Tom drops his head and buries it between your legs. You cry out, sensitive from your edging, your clit throbbing as you feel his tongue, warm and wet, circling the bud. His hands push your hips back down, holding you firmly in place as he moans, drawing his mouth all over your sex.

“Stay still, darling,” he murmurs, voice thick. He glances up at you, a wild look in his eyes. “Be a good girl and let me have a little taste.”  

Your eyes roll back, and you try to lie as still as possible. Tom’s fingers slip into your cunt, exploring your passage, curling up against your g-spot as you whimper.

“So good,” you moan, already feeling your climax twitching in the pit of your stomach. One of your hands goes down to grab at his hair, digging into his curls and keeping his face exactly where you need it, and the other fists the sheets. Your chest rises and falls, your heavy pants mixing with the sounds of Tom’s fingers, fucking your wet heat, and his tongue, teasing the life out of your tender clit. “Please, please.”

“Hmm, you don’t want to cum, do you?” Tom’s words are coupled with a gradual slow in his pace, and you feel your orgasm drifting away as he stills his fingers. He laps over your clit a final time before sitting up a little straighter, looking at you straight on as his chin glistens. “If I don’t get to cum, it doesn't seem fair that you do either, does it?”

His voice is hypnotising, and when his free hand goes to rub warm circles on your inner thigh, you find yourself nodding, transfixed.

“I- I guess.”

Tom smirks, dropping his lips so he can kiss your clit, lightly.

“Are you going to wait for me, sweetheart?” He asks, pink lips puffy and inflamed.

You bite your lip. “Tom,” you whimper, frowning when he lets his fingers pull away from your heat. You watch as he licks his digits clean, still with that wide, confident smirk on his face.

“Hm?” Tom kisses your thigh. “I can make you cum, if you really want to, darling. Just thought it might be nice to do this together.” He rolls both of his hands over your legs, battering his eyelashes at you. “Promise I’ll make it worth your while. Just think about how good it’ll be to wait until next Saturday.” He pushes himself up your body, anchoring himself with a strong arm either side of your head as he suspends himself above you. Tom kisses you, roughly, but only for a moment, letting your lips pull apart when he feels you trying to slip your tongue into his mouth. “Let’s do this together, yeah?”

You hum, thinking on it for a moment, but the scent of his cologne and his fresh shampoo scramble your mind. You find yourself nodding, distracted by the glint in his eyes.

“Okay,” you agree, rolling your eyes when he grins. “We’ll do it together.”

“Good girl.” Tom kisses you, grinning against your lips. “This is going to be fun.”

———

If you’d thought the sex ban was difficult to cope with in the first week, it only gets harder in the second. After giving Tom the green light to have his way with you, he seems to channel all his frustration into you—or, more specifically, into making you as frustrated as possible. He teases you, makes you squirm, beg, cry, letting his mouth wander over your sex or his fingers explore you, any time, any place he feels like it. He never allows you to roll over your edge, just watches, usually smirking, as you try to convince him to let you climax, only to kiss you, softly, and pull away each time.

It happens in the locker room—he pushes you up against the metallic lockers and slips his fingers into you, whispering gentle words with sinful intent.

“Gonna stay quiet for me, darling? Cunt feels so desperate... So tight, so hot. Fucking snug around my fingers, aren’t you? Shh… I know, I know. Feels good for you too, doesn’t it?”

In the showers, when you’re both hot and steamy—Tom drops to his knees and slings one of your thighs over his shoulder, nuzzling his face into your heat.

“Wish I could taste this pussy for the rest of my life, love. Tastes like paradise.”

It even happens in the gym, when he pushes a vibrating egg into you and enjoys teasing you, never warning you before he ups the pace of the bullet, watching with that signature mischievousness on his face.

“Don’t get all shy now, love… I can see the way you’re squirming for me. Bet you’re making a mess in those panties, hmm? Yeah… You can’t hide from me.”

It drives you crazy—beyond crazy. If you thought you’d been mad at Harrison before, you’re practically incandescent with rage by the time fight night comes around.

As your frayed arousal combines with the nerves of the big night, you find yourself alone with Tom, half an hour before the most important match of his career. Your priorities have shifted, your mood sobered by the situation.

“Visualise it,” you murmur, voice soft. You roll your hands over Tom’s shoulders. “Think about how good it’ll feel to hold that belt in your hands.”

Tom hums. He’s sitting on one of the hard wooden benches in the locker room. You’re kneeling behind him, occasionally dropping your lips to kiss the top of his head. After months of supporting him before a fight, you know exactly what he needs: you, touching him, grounding him. He doesn’t like distractions so near to the fight, which is why he has his eyes closed. Whenever he opens them, it’s only to look at the bright red gloves settled in his lap. You know that he appreciates you, even when he’s unable to vocalise it, too lost in his thoughts.

“You’ve trained your whole life for this moment, Tom. You deserve it.”

It’s a mantra. Harrison had taught it to you. Small words of affirmation, repeated softly over the lead-up, speaking them into existence. Tom hums, listening intently.

“You’re going to win,” you speak, your own eyes shut. You focus on the feeling of his shoulders, packed firm with muscles between your hands. “You’re going to win, and then you’re going to fuck me.”

Tom shifts, his posture straightening a little, and your eyes widen as you realise you’ve let your inner thoughts interrupt the ritual.

“I don’t think that’s on Harrison’s script, darling,” he mutters, voice amused.

You reach forward, drawing one of your hands over his forehead. Your fingers play with his hair, and you scrunch up your nose as you chastise yourself for your deviation.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “Just fucking horny. Your fault.”

“Mm, sorry.” Tom grunts when you pull on his hair a little harder, and you repeat the action. “Fuck, love.” He groans louder and tilts his head to the side, exposing the pale column of his neck. “Give me a hickey?”

You oblige, dipping your head so you can rest your lips on his neck. “Where?” You ghost your lips over varying points on his skin, teasing him with light nibbles.

“There,” Tom mutters. One glance at his face confirms he’s still got his eyes shut. When you give in to his desire and start to suck a deep hickey to his skin, he grunts and reaches up to grab at your hands, squeezing your fingers roughly. “Shit.”

“There you go,” you say, voice soft as you pull back.

“Thanks, love,” Tom mutters. “Want to wear it in the ring. Good luck charm.”

You bite your lip, your centre throbbing as you listen to him. You kiss the mark, stained dark against his skin.

“You’ve got this, Tom,” you whisper, redirecting your lips to his ear. His neck prickles with goosebumps when you kiss his earlobe, softly. “You’re going to win, then you’re going to come back, and we’ll celebrate together. Okay?”

Tom’s still holding your hands, firm and eager, and you smile against his neck when he squeezes them.

“Okay,” he agrees. “I’ll win. I’ll do it for you.”

You kiss the back of his head, his soft curls gentle against your cheeks.

“Love you, champ.”

He coaxes one of your hands to his face and kisses the back of your palm.

“Love you too, darling.”

———

The atmosphere sharpens when Tom gets out to the ring.

It’s a big match. The press is here, the fight streamed live to thousands of people across the world. As Tom strides into the ring to take on his opponent, you settle at the side of it, looking up through the ropes with Harrison by your side.

Tom starts off strong—a few hard jabs here, some quick punches there. He dodges and rolls, his bright red gloves raining down over his opponent. Yet, both Tom and his rival are the best of their class, so it’s a nail-biting half-hour spent with your fingers crossed, eyes trained on your boyfriend as he throws everything he has into the ring.

When they break halfway through the match for a few minutes of respite, you’re quick to slip up into the ring and assist Tom’s trainer as they patch up his injured hand. Tom doesn’t say anything, his teeth frozen in the hard white mouth guard, but he squeezes your hand before you step out again, and you know he’s still in there.

The second half only gets more intense—both of them knowing how close the match is, and adjusting accordingly. Tom and his opponent are more reckless, more brutal, and you watch your boyfriend take risks he’d promised to never try to take. It leaves you an anxious mess, but you can’t help but watch him in awe.

Tom’s time in the ring is a performance, beautifully violent, elegantly composed. Spit sprays, sweat drips, blood rolls. He’s loud—very vocal, his sounds almost brutish. His eyes glint black, brown curls stiff with sweat, face on fire. You find it incredibly attractive to watch him in his element, not just because he physically looks incredible, but also because he’s so utterly committed to his trade that everything else fades away. His passion burns, scorches the ground, ripples over his opponent, and in the end, Tom rises, and his rival sinks.

It’s close, and though you have the suspicion that your boyfriend might have snagged it, you hold your breath until it’s confirmed. Your grip on Harrison’s hand is so tight that he curses, but you don’t release it until the MC yells Tom’s name as champion and thrusts his arm triumphantly into the air.

The arena explodes. Your ears ring as you clap and cheer, tears of pride pooling in your eyes. The first thing Tom does is turn around, looking at you with an expression of elated shock on his face. Then, after accepting the belt and speaking a few hurried words of thanks into the microphone of the leading journalist, he comes straight to you.

“Tom!” You exclaim, shaking from emotion. It’s a blend of adrenaline, pride and nerves, cooling your body, making you quiver. Tom reaches down from the ring and grabs both of your hands, jerking you up to him. You dodge past the ropes, almost tripping in his haste, but he grabs you.

Still with the bright stage lights blinding the ring, Tom sweeps you into a deep, passionate kiss, his hot hands burning into your waist. You release a loud noise of surprise, taken entirely off-guard but rolling with the punches. Tom pushes you back against the ropes of the ring as your hands curl into his sweaty hair, and your brief hope that they’ve stopped broadcasting live is set aside as Tom comes closer, caging you in with his buff arms. It’s messy and dirty, his tongue twisting against yours, lips firm, intense, but it’s everything. As you let go of the tension you’d been harbouring all evening, another very prominent emotion burns to the surface: arousal.

“I fucking did it,” Tom breathes finally, forehead pushed to yours. He sounds so proud of himself that it makes you smile, tears reappearing in your eyes as you nod.

“You did,” you confirm. You pull on his hair and push him back so you’re able to see his eyes, dark and hungry. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you.”

He stares into your eyes for a moment, and then kisses you again, with so much intensity it knocks your breath from your lungs. When he pulls back, he uses one very hot hand to cup your cheek, holding you tightly.

“I have to do some interview shit,” Tom says, grimacing. He tilts his head at the championship belt, which now lies on the floor of the ring, discarded. He’s smirking as he brings his gaze back to you. “Meet me in the locker room? Ten minutes.”

You nod.

“Don’t be late.”

———

You wait for Tom in the team’s locker room, taking the time to lock all of the side doors that lead out from the room. His team has been around the two of you for long enough to know that it’s best to give you a wide berth in the few hours after Tom’s won a match, but you can never be too sure. Once you’re finished with that, you go to the liberty of pulling off your shoes, your jumper, and all the jewellery you’d put on for the night.

Then, you wait.

You wait, and you think about how magnificent Tom had looked as he’d fought, arms flexing, jaw set firm in a focused grimace. You rewatch the scenes of him thrusting the belt into the air, yelling elatedly. You think about how fucking mad he’s made you feel over the last two weeks, edging you and denying you, over and over again. It feels as though you’ve been permanently aroused for seven days straight, and now is no exception: just from spending all evening ogling him, you can feel your arousal wetting the front of your panties.

“Fuck,” Tom exclaims, suddenly bursting into the locker room. You turn around to watch him sling the championship belt over his shoulder as he hurries to flick the lock on the main door, knowing the routine as well as you. When he gets it, he turns and stalks over to you, picking up into a jog. “That took so fucking long,” he groans. He throws the belt away and pulls you from the bench, pushing you until your back bumps up against one of the metal lockers. Tom grins, his nose pressing to yours as he smothers you, hands back on your hips, forehead to yours, breath spreading over your face. “Couldn’t wait to get back here and see you.”

You draw your hands over his back, feeling his muscles tense and flex.

“Just see me?” You ask, ghosting your lips over his.

Tom tightens his grip on your waist. “No,” he mutters darkly. He kisses you, only for a second, but very hard. “Couldn’t wait to get back here, rip your clothes off, and finally give you everything you deserve.”

“Everything I deserve?” You raise your eyebrows, running your hands lower. “I think you deserve more, baby.” You smirk against his lips. “You just won the biggest fight of your life.”

“That’s true…” Tom steps back, only for a moment, and you watch as he reaches beneath the waistband of his gym shorts and grunts. A second later, he pulls out the hard protective cup that shields his lower half from injury in the ring, and he groans, loudly, his forehead pressing to yours. “I’m so fucking hard, darling,” he whines. He steps closer, and you feel him, stiff as a rod, pressing into your thigh. “Need to get it out of me.”

You nod, your head moving back as Tom runs a hand over your throat and tilts it to the side. His lips attack your neck, biting hard kisses to the side of your throat that make you moan, your pulse feeling strong between your legs.

“Shit,” you curse. “Get in the shower.”

Tom sucks a harsh hickey just below your ear before pulling back to wiggle his eyebrows. “The shower, eh?”

“Yeah.” You step out of his hold and start to tear off your clothes, your skin rippling with heat. “Gonna suck you off.” You fling your t-shirt to the ground and roll down your jeans, watching as Tom does the same. “Then… Then, you can fuck me… Shit, I’m definitely going to need you to fuck me.” You throw your bra aside and then push down your panties, the waistband rolling in on itself due to your speed. “I’m so wet, Tom.”

“You don’t need to convince me,” Tom says, eyes taking in your bare form. “Been dreaming about feeling you again, love.” He finally pulls down his boxers, and his hard cock springs out. “Two weeks is far too long. Get over here.”

Tom grabs your hand and tugs you into one of the wide shower cubicles. Both of you curse as he turns the valve and the water comes out freezing cold, but the stark contrast to the raging fire burning up your insides is nice.

You kiss him for a while, as the two of you get soapy and Tom washes away the grime. His skin is soft beneath your hands and the noises he makes as you massage his dodgy shoulder would be erotic enough without the presence of his cock, hard and leaking precum, resting between your thighs. You make out for a while, savouring every moment and enjoying the fact you’re now able to kiss him for longer than two seconds without worrying about exciting him too much. It’s still just as intense as before, but less hurried, and more passionate—Tom’s fingers pushing your damp hair out of your face, water droplets rolling down your figures. To be so bare in front of him and have him so ravenous for you makes you want him more than anything.

“Get back,” you murmur, pushing his shoulders. Tom obeys, his body pressing against the yellow tiled wall. You run a trail of kisses down his torso, paying attention to both of his pecs before his abs, then his v-line. Your knees bend, and you kneel on the floor, kissing up his thighs briefly before finally taking him in hand.

“Fuck-” Tom yells. His hands wind into your hair, flat palms grasping at your skull when you drag your tongue over his tip. “Been so long, love, I won’t last long at all.”

You hum as you tenderly lick over his head, absorbing his salty precum and moaning at the taste. “I know,” you say, your hand slowly tugging his length. You give his tip a chaste kiss as you blink up at him, smiling innocently. “I don’t want you to last long. I want you to cum down my throat.” Very slowly, you envelop his tip in your mouth, bobbing your head gently. You pull back after only a few moments, needing to add, “Want you to fuck my face, Tom.”

Your boyfriend moves one of his hands to your cheek, his voice strained from the way your hand is pumping his lower shaft. “Are you sure? Might not be gentle.”

“Yeah.” You nod your head too. “Want it rough. ‘M so fucking horny, and so are you. Want you to make my throat ache tomorrow.”

Tom curses, his eyes fluttering shut. “You’re so sexy,” he whines, slapping your cheek gently. “Thank you.”

You consider telling him that it’s almost as much for you as it is for him, but then you decide that the sight of his cock, flushed red, leaking precum, is your number one priority. So, you loosen your hand on his member and remove it completely, then soften your jaw and start to take him in your mouth, deep-throating him like you’ve ached to do for two weeks.

Tom’s fast to use his leverage on your head, guiding you with shaking hands. Both of you know that all you have to do to tap out is press his thigh, so you let him use you however he needs. Tears pool in your eyes as he fucks your mouth hard, his tip hitting the end of your throat until you gag. The lewd sounds mix with the pounding of the shower against the tiles and Tom’s grumbled groans that spiral up into the air.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he says, voice raspy and light. “So good, sweetheart, fuck. Such a pretty mouth. Feels so bloody good.” He breaks off for a moment, and you feel him shifting around on the wall, indicating he’s near his peak. “So messy too, fuck. Missed this. Watching you on your knees, gagging on my cock.” He tightens his grip on your hair and pushes you deeper, groaning loudly as he does so. “Fuck, I’m gonna blow. Gonna cum all down your throat. Shit, shit-”

Tom stops moving your head as he yelps, one of his hands curling into a fist and hitting back against the wall as he cums suddenly. You swallow around him, pulling up until your lips are at his tip, and your hand goes up to pump the rest of him through his orgasm. His entire body shakes, releasing the pent-up frustration that comes with so long in denial, and you take joy in the light whimpers he deposits into the air as you suck on his tip, cleaning him up.

“Holy…” Tom grabs your hair and pulls you back up, slumping against you instead of the wall as he pants. After taking a moment to gather himself, he pulls back to look at you, his thumb coming up to play with the beads of his cum that stain the corner of your mouth. “Made a mess,” he coos, pushing his seed onto your tongue. You grin as you suck his thumb further into your mouth, delighting as he curses. “You’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart. You really are.”

You release his finger with a pop, shrugging. “How was that?”

Tom groans again, the sound almost orgasmic. “So good,” he mumbles. “Been so long, darling. So, so long.” He kisses your face, dusting your cheeks in light, loving kisses. When he pulls back, his eyes are a little darker. “Bet you’d like to chase that high too, wouldn’t you?” He accompanies his words with a sly hand, slipping down between your legs. When he feels your slick, so pronounced it’s coating your inner thighs, he tuts, smirking. “All this for me?”

You nod, whining breathlessly as he slips two fingers up to toy with your bud. You feel like a livewire—strung out and pulsing, white-hot. Unlike him, you’ve had some stimulation over the last two weeks. Just, you’ve also been cruelly pulled away from the edge, every single time.

“Just for you,” you agree. Your face drops forward, and you find yourself biting Tom’s broad shoulder as he curls two fingers into you with ease.

“You’re so hot in here,” he mutters, “and so wet, too. Fuck, love. You’re dripping down my hand.” When he angles his digits up to caress your g-spot, he strikes it immediately, and you moan noisily. “There you go, baby. Shh. It’s okay.” Tom fucks your tight heat, gradually unravelling you. “I’ve got you.”

Your moans come out strangled, and you feel yourself clenching around his fingers as your high builds quickly. It won’t take much to push you over the edge, and as much as it pains you—

“I don’t want to cum on your hand, Tom,” you manage, your voice betraying you by splitting into a whimper. “Want to cum on your cock.”

Tom slows his fingers, but he keeps thrusting them into you, just too slowly for you to peak. You groan, your centre pulsing as he keeps you burning near the edge, his lips on your neck again. He gently kisses up to your ear, mouth feather-light.

“Are you sure?” He coos, nibbling at your earlobe. “Feels like you want to cum.” When Tom adds his other hand, two fingers gently stroking your tender bud, your knees almost give out. “Can feel you clenching around me, Y/N, naughty girl.” He kisses just below your ear. “If you want something, you know how you need to ask for it.”

You’re all over the place, your eyes squeezed shut, sweat breaking out over your forehead, your cunt clenching and releasing every other second. You’re so close you can almost taste it, but you try to exercise self-control.

“Please, Tom.” It takes everything in you, but you manage to stand up straighter again, looking at him straight-on. His eyes dance dark with power and lust, his smirk unmoving as he thrusts his fingers a little faster. “W-Want you to fuck me. Been waiting so long, don’t want to fall apart if it isn’t with you behind me. Please, please, please, please-”

He cuts you off with a hard kiss, and finally, Tom pulls his hands away. He runs them both through the stream of water before reaching back to clumsily turn off the valve.

“I fucking love you,” he tells you. “Couldn’t deny you anything. Not really.” Tom takes your hand. “C’mere.”

Tom carefully pulls you over to one of the wooden benches. After draping a towel over the wooden slats, he pushes you down onto your hands and knees, his fingers spreading your legs. You whimper as you feel his cock, hard again, refracted in the interlude he’d constructed with his hands working you into insanity. Your knuckles clench around the slabs of wood, and despite already feeling the ache in your knees, it only spurs you on. You love the pain, love the visible, throbbing reminders of Tom, and he knows it just as much as you do.

“Look so pretty like this, darling,” Tom says, voice drifting through the air. Both of his hands go to your ass, roughly massaging your skin until his right hand slaps down across you, stinging bright hot. He repeats the action when you moan loudly, the slapping sound ringing out through the air. Each time his hand falls over you, you only grow hotter. It doesn’t matter that you’re still covered in water from the shower, you’re burning up. “G’nna let me take you like this, eh? Fuck this tight little pussy, like I know you’ve been dreaming of.”

When Tom lines his tip up with your entrance, you find yourself clinging to the edge of the bench with your fingers.

“Yes,” you beg, backing up against him. You feel like you might dissolve into a mess of arousal, tears, and desperation if he doesn’t satisfy you soon. “Please.”

Tom runs a hand up your back, fingers drifting over the line of your spine. He drops his lips and kisses the lower part of your back, so delicately it makes you quiver.

“Okay,” he says. “G’nna give it to you good.”

He enters you quickly and easily, and you almost lose it from the first thrust alone. You’re so slick that Tom’s swift in pulling back and then slamming back into you, his hands holding your hips back and in place as your arms wobble and your figure loses control. You drop your head between your arms, the blood rushing to your skull and making you feel light-headed as he rocks into you, over and over again, giving you everything you’ve ever wanted and more.

“Tom,” you gasp, your breaths heavy and inconsistent. It feels indescribable—the final denouement of your time apart. Each drag of his cock through your heat has you reeling, your walls quivering and clenching and trying desperately to keep him in, keep him nudging your g-spot, stimulating your passage. You’re moaning louder than you’ve ever moaned before, the coil in your stomach building and building without warning or direction.

Behind you, Tom seems to be enjoying it just as much as you. His libido strong and healthy and his body pumped full of pre-match adrenaline that it doesn’t surprise you in the slightest that he’s being so hard and purposeful in his movements. His groans are like music to your ears, small grunts of affirmation that he too has missed the paradise that unfolds when you join together.

“So fucking tight, angel,” he rasps, again letting his hand fall over your ass. He soothes the skin with his palm, and then he repeats the action two more times. “Feel you clenching me every time I do that.” He pinches your hip with his other hand, and you find yourself biting your forearm, embarrassed by how loud you think you’d moan if you were able to. “You love it rough like this, don’t you, darling? Mm… I know you do.”

It’s a dizzying blur of skin on skin for a while, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge on multiple occasions. It’s as if your body is holding back though, waiting on Tom to near it too before you’re able to fully let go. Almost sensing this, he reaches down and shoves his fingers in your hair, roughly tugging you up until your back is pressed against his front. The angle pushes him deeper, and your eyes flood with tears as you find yourself unable to comprehend just how good it feels.

“Y’like that?” He rasps. Tom drags a hand down to your clit, able to access it better now that he’s holding you so much closer. His pace is slower, but he’s going forcefully, his head hitting your g-spot every time. “Fuck, darling, I’m gonna cum if you keep clenching like that.”

You whimper, your chest heaving.

“Yeah,” you moan. His name pours from your lips like a prayer, rising in desperation as you slip back down, hands grabbing at the slats of the bench as you hold on for dear life. “Fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

“Come on,” Tom urges. “Do it. I want to feel you squeezing my cock so tight, like you always do. Always makes me lose it, doesn’t it, love? Shit, you’re so perfect. Go on. I’ve got you. Get my cock nice and wet, and I’ll fill you up. You’d like that, eh? Feeling me cumming inside this pretty pussy? Come on. You know what you have to do.”

It slams into you, pouring down over you in waves that submerge you entirely. You feel boneless but also rigid at the same time, your jaw slack as your vision blurs. Pleasure ripples out from your centre, dousing your aching cunt in relief that feels so sweet, only growing richer and more fulfilling when you hear Tom grunt and feel his cock pulse in you. You come together, bodies moving in sync, perfectly, despite the time apart, and it’s so good that it takes you out of it completely.

You’re so absorbed in your climax that you end up drifting, opening your eyes a few moments later only to find yourself lying on your back, staring up at the bright white lines of the locker room ceiling. Your eyes blur with tears, but just for a moment, because then Tom’s palm swims into vision, drifting above your head until he finds the right angle that blocks out the light.

“Hey, darling,” he coos. He brings one of your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. “Are you okay? Lost you for a second.”

A very lazy, content smile finds your lips.

“Yeah,” you say sluggishly. You ache all over, but it feels incredible. You’re buzzing with the kind of energy that only comes after a session like this—after you’ve let him dismantle you completely. “Are you okay?”

Tom nods, his wet hair flying everywhere. “Fantastic,” he confirms. He glances down your figure, then offers you a soft smile. “I’m going to take you home, run you a really, really nice bath, and then we’re going to cuddle.” He drops your hand and instead cups your face in his palm. You nuzzle into it. His eyes are so soft as he gazes at you tenderly. “You’re so lovely, Y/N. I love you.”

You smile softly. “Love you too.”

Tom leans over you and kisses your lips, very gently, before shifting his mouth all over the rest of your face. He goes from one cheek, over to your forehead, down your nose, to the other, before circling back to your mouth. By the time he reaches there, your smile has grown to a grin, and you feel grounded enough to reach up and loop your fingers into his hair.

“Thank you,” he says, speaking earnestly, “for always being here for me. For supporting me, and putting up with all my crazy ideas, and being incredible, always. You are my inspiration, and I love you more than anything.”

You feel your heart throb in your chest, and you have to focus really hard on stopping the swell of emotion from leaving through your tired eyes.

“Any time,” you say, nodding to emphasise your point. “I love you, and I’m here for you. Whatever you might need, I’ll do it.”

Tom’s warm brown eyes meet with yours, and the smile on his face shows no sign of leaving.

“All I need is you,” he says. His lips come down to yours, softly, just resting there. “All I’ll ever need is you.”

—

———

:)) I rlly like this tbh. I hope you do too !

please let me know what you thought by hitting up my askbox or dropping a comment/rb...? thank you thank you!

masterlist and taglist can be found in my pinned post :D

[qianinterprises]

Summer '78

Pairing | bully!Jeno x chubby!Reader

Warning(s) | bullying, harsh words, cussing, sexual assault, name calling, fat shaming, poor shaming, face slapping, angst, hurtful comments, yelling, the Dreamies are not nice people (I know I did Jaemin wrong, I'm sorry)

Synopsis | Jeno was a bully, and you were his primary victim. Nothing should have changed, but Jeno began getting tired of bullying the girl he was in love with simply because she didn't conform to societies beauty standards. So she was chubby? So what?! His friends didn't see it that was.

Genre | ANGST, retro-flashback

Author’s Notes | So I wrote this a while back for an event of NCTA, which was basically writing a retro fic. This fic is very different than the fics I usually write. For one, it is told in Jeno's perspective rather than the readers. For two, this is a "chubby fic." Meaning the reader is seen in the fic as having a larger body weight, which, may I add here, is not a problem, nor should it ever be. If you are being bullied for anything, please don't let it go unreported. Report it as many times as you have to because bullying is not ok, whether it's done at school, at home, or anywhere else. Also, there is a possibility that there will be a part two, I have had some people (before posting it here) request a part two but I'm on the fence about that, but perhaps a part two will show some change and growth on Jeno's part. So we'll see. Tell me your opinions though! I hope you enjoy~

Word Count | 3.5k

Taglist | @treasuretaeil @hachanbaecon @nschitty

A group of six boys sat around a table talking and laughing until a loud crash resounded through the snack shack that brought their attention to a waitress on the floor, yellow heels scattered behind her, empty tray in her hands and spilled drinks everywhere as well as on a girl by the table the waitress had fallen at.

“Clutz,” one of the boys, Jeno, mumbled, shaking his head.

“Fatass,” Jeno’s best friend, Jaemin responded.

The other four muttered something along the lines of agreement as they watched the waitress cowering on the floor with a bright red face as the girl now covered in cola shrieked about her ruined clothing and hair.

Jaemin got up from his seat angrily.

“What the hell are you doing to my girlfriend!” he yelled, approaching the pair.

“Jaeminnie! She poured soda all over me!” the girl pouted, running into Jaemins arms.

Jeno rolled his eyes.

Jeno shook his head. Out of all of the boys in their biker gang, Jaemin just had to be the most gullible, falling for the Queen Bee of the high school who used him for nothing more than his money and face.

“She ruined my shirt,” Jeno heard the girl whine.

Jaemin embraced her tighter.

“You’ll have to pay for her clothing, fatty!” Jaemin demanded.

The waitress was someone Jeno recognized. (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). She had been one of his best friends when he was a shy ten year old trying to fit in. They both befriended Jaemin and the rest of their group and somewhere along the way, he’d gotten muscular and tall while she’d gotten chubby. With Jeno’s looks, he’d always been popular with girls, but when he became interested in them as more than friends, he’d dumped the girl in favor of girlfriends.

She was a bullied girl wearing outdated clothing that made adequate grades. A nobody. She didn’t fit into any groups. She drifted through high school being shoved against lockers while her books were thrown across the hallway and what little lunch money she had was stolen. More often than not, Jeno or one of the other guys was the perpetrator.

“I can’t…” (y/n) muttered, looking down at the floor.

Jaemin kicked the carrying tray away from her, making the girl flinch.

Something in Jeno’s heart snapped against his chest, but he’d never allow it to escape. He watched tears gather in the corner of the girl's eyes and Jeno fought the urge to pull her to his chest.

Feelings began to stir their first year in high school when he and (y/n) had been seated side-by-side in homeroom and he’d leaned over to tease her about her recent, awkwardly styled hair when he’d met the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen.

The feelings made his stomach twist in knots and his body tingled. Feelings and sensations that only grew stronger when their skin brushed or when her angelic voice met his ears.

The feelings were what drove him to brash treatment. His hands shoving her shoulders against the lockers as he demanded for her money. Fingers harshly tugging at the ends of her hair. His voice yelling horrible things at her just to hear her speak back.

He couldn’t tell anyone how he was feeling either. Dating the chubby girl would cause him to lose whatever popularity he had obtained along with his pride and his gang. Their leader couldn’t be seen as the weak punk who decided to date the chubby girl from a poor family.

Jaemin sneered down at the blushing girl, taunting her loudly and Jeno watched her feeble attempt at hiding her face.

“Jaemin! Let’s go. Chubby over here isn’t worth our time,” Jeno called loudly, voice filled with authority that had Jaemin immediately moving away from the girl.

“Fine. But she owes us free meals for a week! Those clothes were expensive!” Jaemin whined.

He kissed his girlfriend's cheek and walked to the door to wait on the rest of the gang who were stuffing their last few fries in their mouths or finishing off their milkshakes.

“Let’s roll,” Jaemin called, a grin on his face.

Jeno shook his head at how fast the male changed perspectives. He grabbed his leather jacket off the back of his chair, sliding his arms into it and let it snap against his back.

The last few members finished their plates, leaving them on the table before grabbing their own jackets and following Jaemin out the door. Jeno took the end, stopping by the waitress on the floor.

“Maybe get some heels your fat feet can walk in, huh Dollface?” he sneered.

Her face flew red again and he rolled his eyes.

“And you should stop blushing. You look like a tomato. Vegetables aren’t attractive. Although it’s fitting. Tomatoes are plump.”

He walked out the door without another word, heart hammering painfully in his ears. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, but that was a problem. He couldn’t think chubby girls were beautiful. What would his friends think?

The loud purr of an engine met his ears and he sighed happily, most of his regret getting washed away, uprooted by the smell of motor oil and tires.

Jeno’s ride was a cherry red 1960 Harley-Davidson motorcycle with shiny silver wheels that didn’t match the rusted gas tank or muffler that Jeno was now saving to restore among other things. The black leather seat was slightly cracked from wear over the years and the breaks didn’t always work great. His headlight needed a new spark plug and the oil line leaked. Still, with all of these issues, he loved his bike. Each new issue gave him something to work on at night in his father's tiny little garage when all he wanted was grease on his chest and a wrench in his hand.

“Let’s go Jeno! I wanna ride!” Donghyuck moaned from his spot on his own bike, revving the engine with his right hand.

Jeno rolled his eyes at Donghyuck’s whining. Out of all of them, he was the one that loved traveling the most. They’d gone all the way up the coast the day they’d let Donghyuck lead them.

Jeno nodded and threw his leg over his bike, kicking the kick start lever and sighing happily as the bike roared to life beneath him. He pushed off his kickstand and allowed it to roll forward.

“Let’s go!” he called.

He rolled to the front of the group before revving the engine and turning onto the main road leaving the beachside snack shack behind.

~

When Jeno pulled into the driveway of his house, he parked his motorcycle beside his elder brother's black and gold Harley, letting the kickstand rest against the dirt driveway and dismounted..

He made his way into the house where his older brother, Jaehyun, was sitting alone in the living room flipping through channels.

Jeno’s heart hurt. All through the ride, he thought about (y/n) and the pained look in her eyes every time someone teased her. He knew it wasn’t right to bully her, especially for something as shallow as her weight or her clothes, but when the girls Jeno dated began mocking her, Jeno joined in, and pretty soon, she was alone. It hurt that Jeno could have stopped it. He could have kept her as a friend instead of ditching her, and now, here he was, hopelessly in love with the girl he bullied and too afraid to stand up to his friends out of fear that they would dump him.

“I have a problem,” he groaned, flopping down on the couch.

Jaehyun turned the small box television off and turned his attention to Jeno. Jeno rolled his head back on the plush green sofa and sighed.

“There’s this girl I like…” he started.

Jaehyun groaned in disinterest.

“So tell her. Not like you can’t get any girl. I heard you’re one of the kings of your class,” he replied.

Jeno whined. It was true. He could virtually have anyone he wanted, yet the one person he couldn’t have was the one he desired.

“I can’t. My friends wouldn’t approve and she’d never go for me… not after everything I’ve done,” he muttered hopelessly.

“Why do you care so much what your punk friends think? Do what you want, not what they want you to do.”

Jeno sighed. It wasn’t that easy and Jaehyun should know that.

“She’d never go out with me anyway and I can never tell her!” Jeno whined, hoping his brother would understand.

He was far too ashamed to come out and say exactly why she wouldn’t. “There’s girls that don’t like you?” Jaehyun asked, clearly shocked.

Jeno nodded sullenly.

“Just one…”

That seemed to make the links click in Jaehyun’s mind and Jeno wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

“You don’t mean you like the poor girl you always bully, do you?”

So Jaehyun knew about that. No wonder his brother had grown distant since Jeno had started high school.

“Um… yes…” he mumbled.

Jaehyun shuffled around on the beige chair he was sitting on before one of his dirty socks was being chucked at Jeno’s head.

“Hey!” Jeno snapped.

“You don’t treat people like that! You and your friends are assholes! That poor girl won’t forgive you for what you’ve done to her!” Jaehyun yelled.

Jeno wanted to yell back, but he knew Jaehyun was right. He was an asshole.

“What do I do to get her to like me… I don’t know how to stop this mess…” he mumbled. Jaehyun groaned and grabbed the large remote, flipping the television back on.

“You make things right. Stop bullying the girl and apologize like you mean it. Even then, it may be too late,” Jaehyun answered before his attention was back into the heavy box television.

Jeno sighed. He knew his brother was right.

~

The next afternoon, Jeno pulled his motorcycle into the parking lot of the snack shack, parking alongside Jisungs rusting brown one he refused to let Jaemin or Jeno strip and repaint.

Jeno dismounted and walked into the shack. His friends were crowded around their usual table, talking loudly.

Jeno walked over to the table and slid into the booth beside Renjun.

“What’d I miss?” he asked.

Jaemin was cackling and fishing ice out of his soda glass.

“(y/n) is on our table today!” he smirked.

Jeno’s heart dropped. That meant they’d be extra cruel to her today and Jeno really couldn’t do anything to tell her or his friends how he felt. The universe must really hate him.

Jaemin got the ice out of his cola glass and held it in his palm, his faze shifting to where (y/n) was shuffling around in her red striped shirt and black pants, wearing those same yellow heels.

“What are you gonna-”

Jeno was cut off as Jaemin smirked and launched the ice cube across the table, getting enough air to fly across the room until it dived down into the low cut v-line of (y/n)’s striped shirt.

“Yes! 10 points!” Jaemin cheered loudly.

(y/n) squeaked at the sudden intrusion of ice, a sound that Jeno found oddly adorable, even if it wasn’t a good kind of squeak.

Her face flamed red and she hurried back to put her notepad down on the chef’s counter before moving back to their table.

“Can I get you guys anything else?” she asked, her voice having gone up an octave from embarrassment.

“I want a chocolate milkshake,” Renjun answered.

(y/n) jotted it down and moved to look at the rest.

“I want a burger that’s charred on one side, but not too charred. Don’t bring me burnt meat or I’ll make your fatass eat it,” Jaemin said.

Jeno sighed at his friend, shaking his head subtly.

“I want a burger with a dollop of ketchup and three pickles. Don’t you dare give me any more or less than three pickles,” Donghyuck ordered.

Jeno rolled his eyes. Donghyuck didn’t even like pickles.

She glanced at Jisung and Chenle, both who were contently sipping their cola’s and completely ignoring her existence, so, after scribbling down everyone else’s orders, she turned her eyes to Jeno.

“Coke with ten pieces of ice and a burger.”

(y/n) nodded, writing all of the information down and shuffled off to the counter again.

“Do we really have to be that mean to her? She looked like she was going to cry,” Renjun muttered.

Jaemin rolled his eyes.

Jeno nodded in agreement to Renjun. Her face was sullen and her eyes glistened with tears that hadn’t fallen. His heart sank at the thought that maybe something had happened at home or that their words had finally gotten to her. In all the time they’d been bullying her, she never once said anything much to them, and they’d never seen her cry.

“Do you think we should lay off her?” he suggested.

Donghyuck and Jaemin snorted at the same time.

“Why would we do that?” Donghyuck asked.

Jeno shook his head. His friends could be such assholes sometimes. They wouldn’t even stop for someone that seems to be almost crying, they just use it to play more games. More buttons to press.

“If you’re so worried, Jeno, go check on her,” Chenle challenged.

“Yeah, go check on her!” Jaemin cackled.

Jeno shook his head and sighed, getting out of the booth. He knew very well what they expected him to do, or at least, what they wanted him to do, but he didn’t know if he could take calling her names anymore. Not when it felt like his soul was screaming at him not to.

He didn’t have much of a choice as he made his way over to her, however. He couldn’t control what his friends wanted and what he was obligated to give.

He moved up behind her and while her back was turned, he brought his hand down hard on her butt as his friends cackled loudly from their table. Jeno’s ears burned in embarrassment and guilt. If his mother knew what he’d just done, she’d be dragging him out of the snack shack by his ear.

He didn’t really know what to expect from (y/n). What he didn’t expect however, was her body whirling around rapidly, her hand raising angrily, and the sharp stinging sensation across his cheek.

“YOU HAVE NO RIGHT! I HAVE DONE NOTHING TO YOU, AND YET ALL YOU ARE YOUR ASSHOLE BUDDIES WANNA DO IS BULLY ME! WELL PISS OFF! I DON’T NEED THIS!” she screamed.

Jeno’s eyes widened. This was new…

“YOU ARE A BUNCH OF PUNKASS BOYS WITH NOTHING BETTER TO DO, BUT I SWEAR THE NEXT TIME I HEAR A COMMENT ABOUT MY WEIGHT, CLOTHES, OR HAIR, OR ANYONE TOUCHEs ME, I WILL SHOVE MY FAT FOOT UP YOUR BUTTHOLE!” she screamed angrily.

The cackling from the table had stopped as the boys gaped at their waitress in shock.

“AND YOU IDIOTS CAN GET YOUR OWN DAMN BURGERS!”

The snack shack had gone deathly quiet. Jeno stood as still as a statue, face still stinging, but not quite as painful now. The outburst from this usually quiet and reserved girl shocked him to his very core, but it also made him feel worse. Sure, the ice throwing, name calling, and excessively stupid orders had added fuel to the fire, but it was Jeno’s action that had thrown her over the edge.

“I-I’m… sorry…” he stammered out.

“DON’T SAY SORRY TO ME AFTER THE HELL YOU’VE PUT ME THROUGH!” she screamed.

Jeno’s heart pounded in his chest and his eyes gazed at her fearfully.

“I think it’s time you go home, (y/n), calm down and come back tomorrow,” the owner of the snack shack said, walking out of his office.

(y/n) nodded and let out a sniffle. Jeno didn’t know when she’d started crying. She grabbed the bag the owner handed her before running out of the shack.

“And you, young man. You and your boys get out of my shack. You’re all banned for a week. Come back in here acting like that and you’ll be banned permanently,” he said, eyes fixed angrily on Jeno.

Jeno turned to look back at his gang and sighed, waving a hand for them all to follow.

~

After the incident, Jeno hadn’t felt much like going on a ride with the rest of the gang. They were all perfectly fine, cackling and talking about the outburst, but Jeno couldn’t stomach it. The way she’d screamed. How upset she’d looked. He was done being a bully. Now he just needed to figure out how to go from bully to courting her, if that were even possible.

He parked his bike beside Jaehyun’s again, happy to see his brother was home and not at the rusty body shop he worked at.

He ran into the house, taking the front steps two at a time, and when he was inside, he made his way to the room he shared with Jaehyun.

“I need to borrow your boombox!” he yelled at the male.

Jaehyun, clearly not expecting the sudden intrusion, jumped off the small bed, stuffing the adult rated magazine he’d been “reading” under his mattress. Jeno rolled his eyes. He didn’t have time to find ways to ruin Jaehyun’s relationship with his girlfriend or rat him out to their mother.

“I. need. Your. boom. Box!” he enunciated.

Jaehyun stared at him incredulously.

“Uh… Why?” he asked.

Jeno shook his head angrily and shoved past Jaehyun to siffle through his side of the room searching for the large, heavy, cassette playing boombox his brother had bought a month ago.

“I need it to fix my (y/n) situation!” Jeno explained as he searched.

Jaehyun groaned.

“Movies aren’t real! That won’t work!”

Jeno ignored him. The guy always showed up at the window of the girl he was hoping to impress and the girl always forgave him. It’d work. It had to.

Jeno grabbed the large boombox from beneath Jaehyun’s bed, groaning at the weight. He heard Jaehyun sigh.

“Good luck then.”

Jeno didn’t need it. This would work. It had to work.

~

The ride to (y/n)’s house had proven to be a bit difficult as he struggled to hold the boombox against him. The box was large and heavy, with a small cassette player at the top that already had his chosen tape resting inside it.

The trip over was one of many stops and repositionings in an attempt not to drop the box that could very well make everything alright. He could just imagine her grinning in glee and running down to meet him, forgiving him for everything he’d ever done to hurt her.

By the time he got to her house, dusk was falling. He had maybe ten minutes before darkness engulfed the sky. Ten minutes in which he’d be tasked with making everything better.

He moved around the side of the common two story house and found (y/n)’s window easily. She appeared to be dancing to the music playing from the vinyl record player he could almost see perched by the window. It brought a smile to his lips. She looked so happy and carefree.

He could watch her all night, but he was here for a reason. He had to apologize for everything he’d ever done and confess.

He found a rock likely from her driveway by her window in the grass and picked it up. It was only one so he had to make it count.

He pressed play on the cassette player portion of the boombox and ‘It’s sad to belong’ came flowing out melodically from the speakers.

”Met you on a springtime day,”

He threw the rock hard against her window, flinching as he heard the rock bounce off. He was surprised it hadn’t broken the window.

”You were mindin’ your life and I was mindin’ mine too. The window opened and Jeno’s heart hammered in his chest.

“(y/f/n) (y/l/n)! I am so in love with you it hurts. I am so sorry for everything I’ve ever done to hurt you! All the bullying. All the teasing. I’m so sorry. You’re not fat or ugly! You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen! I just couldn’t show it! But I don’t care what my friends think! I love you! I want to be with you! I want to court you! Please forgive me!” he pleaded, not giving the girl a chance to say anything.

When he finished speaking, the song was nearing an end and his body was shaking. The girl looked almost close to tears again and Jeno grew hopeful that in any second, she’d run downstairs and jump into his arms.

“Yes it’s sad to belong to someone else when the right one comes along.”

“You love me huh? Well you have a funny way of showing it,” she sneered.

The window slammed shut and the drapes were immediately dropped, leaving Jeno alone in the darkness of the evening, his hopes dashed across the grass.

He’d waited too long to apologize.

[has-gilgamesh-doneanythingwrong]

enemies to homies (?)- the intermediary between red and blue

Adding onto my previous post about Emiya, Cu and Gilgamesh acting like they despise each other as old foes, yet are very compatible... well, even though there are numerous points of proof for it such as their interactions in Fate/HA, mainline series, spinoffs and FGO; what really drew my attention to this fact was an OFFICIAL FGO WHITE DAY SHINDAN (QUIZ) instead.

For the FGO White Day Shindan (a Japanese quiz which determines which FGO guy you're most compatible with), I feel like Cu and Emiya's results particularly balance one another really well.

The shindan describes Archer to be a logical, senpai-like character; whilst describing Cu as a perceptive and protective big bro type that you can be yourself around. And when I saw that, I thought 'no wonder they get along so well!' Archer's logical aspect and Cu's emotional aspects mean that they can form a very solid equilibrium together.

I don't know if I'm writing this simply from a 'these two guys just fit each other extremely well thematically' kind of lens or a shipping one (like yariyumi); so I'll leave that aspect up to you to decide.

Further information and expanded details can be found below!

Source Analysis

1) Archer Result- Calm and Collected Realist type　

「冷静沈着なリアリストタイプ」

- So in Emiya's result it discusses how he is a really good fit for a person who wants to analyse the merits and demerits of a situation.

- This is because he can coolly debate and discuss matters with others. 「冷静に議論ができて話し合える」 is the sentence that points to this.

-In a way, it can be interpreted that he is a great, supportive force to receive guidance from- hence why he's lovingly monikered as 'momiya' by the fandom.

- He is very realistic, to the point of the shindan stating that it's like 'equipping a demon with a golden rod' 「鬼に金棒」. His advice will level you up as a person, giving you the ability to grow and learn to become a better version of yourself.

- In other words, he has very strong decisive power and is a very reliable senpai to go to for help if you need someone to logically sift through your issues with you.

- He is the golden rod of calm logic that will make you a stronger demon!! (i am translating this too literally XD)

- It also adds that from being with him, people will start to look up to you as a 'calm person' as well. I guess that's because Emiya really is a steely guy when it comes to his decision-making style.

- what am I trying to say here?!!! Not much, other than that he's described as the kind of person who will help one mature, with his logical and supportive- yet also very straightforward- guidance as your senior. (lol)

2) Lancer Cu result- Reliability to the MAX! Big Brother Type/ A Leader Among Peers

「頼りがいMAX!兄貴分タイプ」

＊兄貴分does not just refer to any old big brother, it refers to the kind of man who is a familiar presence that is worthy of respect and very reliable. I guess, 'the aniki to end all aniki' XD

- This states that Lancer is very compatible with a 'Senpai'/'Upperclassman' type of person, one that is heavily relied on by others.

- In fact, they say he is a good match for someone who secretly desires to be spoiled more, but tends not to show it much. This refers to the kind of person who typically relies mostly on themselves rather than others, despite helping others most of the time.

- This is because as the reliable aniki, he will wrap you up protectively and affectionately 「包み込む」, so then you can showcase the parts of you that you would usually hide in public freely around him.

- In this case, it says that one can show their more 'pampered/ spoiled' side around him 「甘えん坊」. So it's described as a love in which you will be able to really let yourself go for once; where you can be completely taken care of instead of performing your usual role as a caretaker. 「普段は隠している・一面」

- In conclusion, I guess it describes Lancer as a very affectionate, reliable character who will protect and pamper you to the point that you'll end up showing your hidden sides to him ;) a.k.a he is comfortable in an emotionally secure sense and you can put your walls down around him?! (am I reading too much into this).

Conclusion

Both Cu and Emiya are seen as reliable senpai types in the shindan, ones who both have their own ways of covering for people. Whilst Emiya will take care of one with his great logic and direct ways of support, Cu will take a more protective stance by wrapping you up in his safety blanket.

From this, it can be concluded that maybe it's a given that they'd get along so well. They're both so similar yet use such extremely different methods to achieve their goals.

Actually, this does remind me of an excellent quote Emiya Shirou has in Hollow/Ataraxia-during the hilarious Medea snooping on Souichirou and Taiga in a café scene, which makes a poignant comparison between the two rivals/homies.

QUOTE (in words)

"This is the biggest difference between this spearman and a certain bowman. Both are obliging people, but the latter points out every error in an attempt to help others improve (Emiya)."

"The former approves of even the errors, and helps for covering for them without saying a word (Cu)."

When comparing this to their results from the white day shindan, this line of conjuncture becomes even clearer than before.

The way in which Hollow/Ataraxia describes Emiya as the type who points out errors to help others improve perfectly coincides with the shindan, which explains how Emiya's logical nature can help you find out the 'merits and demerits' to a situation with his straight-forward means of discussion; helping you find the best route for you to take forwards.

In contrast, it can be read from both sources that although Cu also takes a reliable approach, his is to not only accept others unconditionally, but to also cover for their flaws on his lonesome; and this is very clearly enunciated in how the white day shindan describes him as the type that will 'wrap you' up and let you 'show the spoilt side that you would normally hide'.

When contrasting both of them against one another, the thematic power of their opposing methodologies is a gem to witness. And I personally believe that because their ways of taking care of others is so different, it means that they would be a vey good match when together! Archer can shoot his honest opinions at Cu, whilst Cu ends up being a pretty reliable and comfortable person for Archer to be around. Maybe this also adds more onto why Archer doesn't hold back around him- not only can Cu hold his own, but he's also the kind of character that would easily accept Archer as he is.

In addition to that, I believe that Archer's personality is eerily similar to the senpai type in Cu's shindan result! When I read it a few years ago, I was like 'holy shit am i smoking the shipping fuel or is this legitimately a correct reading'.

It makes much more sense to me why they hang out so often together now. Maybe Archer can show his other sides that he'd usually keep hidden (due to being a reliable senpai force to so many people) around Cu, as the guy is a fellow senpai who knows what it's like to protect your homies.

This line of argument has probably been made many times before, however I was very intrigued by how it can be inferred from other sources as well!!

Overall, I have nothing else to say except that I believe that these shindan results helped me understand both characters and the reasons why they might get along in more detail XD

[roadmotel]

Hi!

This is a super long ask and I hope it's interesting instead of annoying.

I have just finished reading the book "The Carnivorous Lamb" by Augustin Gomez-Arcos, and one of the main plot points is the love between the protagonist and his brother. Needless to say, many passages reminded me of the brothers. And then I thought I'd send them; even if they're not material for your blog, I thought you might enjoy taking a look, since the book has a very beautiful and evocative style... If it's not your thing, I apologize in advance! All in all, I love your blog and I hope you're having a nice week <3

Here it goes:

Father coming in at neutral moments to plant a kiss on my forehead, then hurrying out (did he love me, I wonder?), my brother, rooted to the spot, devouring me with his eyes. The house gone mad, blind anarchy stealthily taking it over,

Page 28

This ritual of waiting, which I have lived minute by minute since five o’clock in the afternoon last Friday, strikes me as completely useless. It brings me nothing new. Written in my cells when I was a child, it has ruled my behavior ever since. And my behavior has never been more than an appendage of yours, somewhat like a dog’s tail in relation to the dog. What can I do, though? When someone else’s life is the only space you have to live in, you can’t choose but to wait. Whether you come as a lover or an executioner, I am ready to receive you. More ready than ever. With all the obligations that waiting for you imposes on me. But don’t come as a brother, to profane me in the family blasphemy; if you do, my waiting for you will assert its rights. So open the door. Come in.

Page 55

I no longer had any trouble understanding the softness of my brother’s look, and the ever stronger, fiercer desire I felt to melt into him. With me, he acted like a creator. He sensed—no, he was sure—that he was shaping me day by day into the image of something special that he loved unconsciously. And passionately.

Page 70

I felt I should minimize the whole thing, but was petrified by a hardness on his face I had never seen before. A dangerous light glinted in his eyes, and an animal’s clenched teeth showed between his tight lips. The black-and-blue mark someone else’s hand had put on my behind had enraged him—even though I didn’t always emerge unscathed from our own wrestling matches. A savage heat started burning in my flesh, and I suddenly felt proud of having caused the bruise, which had the magnificent power of showing me the strength of my brother’s passion. My skin became translucent, the better to show Antonio my pre-adolescent frailty. He couldn’t take his eyes off my bruised flesh. “The bastard! The bastard!”

Page 90

“I won’t even let my parents raise a hand to him. Do you think I’m going to let you?” “I am his teacher, not his.…” “…brother,” finished Antonio, in a voice as sharp as a whip-crack. “I’m his brother. Me.” They watched each other in silence. No need to explain further.

Page 92

Within me, my brother’s presence stirred a craving for apocalypse. The Latin words falling softly from his lips tickled the most secret parts of my body, as if he were speaking directly to me and not to God.

Page 167

I could detail the disturbing contents of your dreams, the things you yourself don’t know, one anxiety after another. I could tell you if I knew the right words … but who could prompt me, who could give me those mysterious words? I know you so well, I can’t describe you. There is a you of you I can certainly describe. But I can’t tell you a thing about the other you of you, my you.

Page 235

You cross the hallway. You try to open my bedroom door, but it is closed. And locked. You order me to open it, as if I still belonged to you. You beg me to open it, as if you still belonged to me. But I don’t open it, and I don’t stop shouting.

Page 255

You lick our tears from my eyes before they stain my face, like someone trying to get drunk. You feed on us. And you say: “Easy, easy. I’m here.” But I know you don’t want me to stop, because you really do need to feed on me.

Page 256

And this is a classic passage, you might have seen it around before:

“I love you because you’re mine. I love you because I possess you. I love you because you need love. I love you because you’re disorder, and I don’t like order. I love you because when you look at me I feel like a hero, and always have. I especially love you because I’ve finally understood that I can’t talk about my love to anyone else but you, and that’s what real love is. Two beings who make up one solitude, one silence. And I love you because touching you makes me feel I’m more of a man than anyone.” You look at me as if you were in me. And you are in me. And outside me. Everywhere.

Page 262

oh please don't apologize! i’ve actually read this book, i think i’ve even posted a few quotes from it on here. it's incredibly well-written, unsettling, and confronting. funnily enough, i actually found out about this book because years ago i watched the film from beginning to end (also about an intense sexual relationship between two brothers) and there was a quote from it that i really liked:

“i love you because you’re mine. i love you because you need love. i love you because when you look at me i feel like a hero. it was always like that. i love you because when i touch you i feel more a man than any other man.”

so i googled it and the carnivorous lamb popped up and i read the premise and was like wait was the movie based on this book? but there was no acknowledgment of the book in the movie’s credits and i couldn’t find anything about it being an inspiration for the movie on wikipedia so i was like holy shit. then i read the carnivorous lamb (and loved it like it’s really incredible) and realized that from beginning to end completely ripped off the book. even the opening lines in from beginning to end are super reminiscent of a specific passage from the carnivorous lamb. 

the movie opens with:

“i was born with my eyes wide shut. sure, everybody is born with their eyes closed. but mine were closed so tight, they formed wrinkles. i remained with my eyes closed for more than two weeks. my mother, contrary to expectations, didn’t worry [...] while he [brother] stared at me through the thick, soundproof nursery glass window, i without any reason opened my eyes, and looked straight into his.”

and in the book, ignacio says:

“from the moment i opened my eyes, an incredible sixteen days after i was born, you [brother] were always sure of everything where i was concerned. it was all laid out in advance for you, even the unexpected. do you remember? mother used to say i was born with the will to stay blind forever.”

god, apologies for my rant but that literally always comes to mind whenever i think about the carnivorous lamb like how did they get away with just straight up plagiarizing agustín gómez-arcos in that movie lmao? anyway! thanks for sharing your favorite quotes i actually have a couple of these highlighted in my book!

[im-whatchamccallit]

Crushcrushcrush//Kim Hongjoong (ATEEZ)

Request:  Hi i was wondering if you could do a soulmate werewolf hongjoong x human female reader angst and fluff like she over hears hongjoong saying something and she gets sad and shy and worried and stuff.....

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst with fluff at the end, Werewolf!AU, Soulmate!AU, a bit of College!AU

Warnings: Hongjoong’s kind of a dick with irrational thinking, cussing I guess

Word Count: 7.2k

(A/N: Lets just pretend I didn’t disappear for 6 whole months, but i am back and my medication is no longer giving me the big sad so I’m a little more motivated to write.This isn’t the best work I’ve done, this is actually idea 10 for this prompt and idk if it’s executed properly but Imma keep trying and hopefully, to keep from falling back into a slump, I’ll start a new series so I have a regular scheduled fic for everyone. Also, I think I botched expressing the AUS here but just let me know what you think. Sorry for always disappearing, I can’t promise I won’t go off the grid again but I’ll try harder to be active in anyway)

Your mother always said crushes stayed crushes for a reason: they hurt. Bad. But you thought she was wrong, that your feelings for someone could one day be reciprocated later if not sooner, and that’s what led you to him. Kim Hongjoong. The day you met was a complete accident, your body slamming into his as you wandered aimlessly during your freshman year of high school. He was gorgeous with wide brown eyes, beautiful pink lips and cheeks, his hair styled differently from the other boys to reveal his forehead, showing his individuality. He was perfection.

“I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” Those were the first words he spoke to you, his voice so gentle, so sweet. And the way he reached out to help you with no hesitation, holding your hands as he pulled you up effortlessly.

It was love at first sight, all until he looked down to your hands, eyes catching a glimpse of your wrist, a row of zeros peeking through the sleeve of your uniform jacket. He slowly pushed the fabric up, both your eyes widening to see your soulmate clock had finally timed out, his hands releasing yours to check his own wrist, a quiver to his lips as his clock matched yours, his once soft eyes now hard as he stared you down.

“Stay far away from me.” He warned, not saying another word as he headed to his homeroom, your body frozen as you watched him disappear. He was so harsh, yet you liked him. Maybe suddenly finding his soulmate scared him, but it was no problem to you! You were bound to end up together so you played the waiting game with him, being the perfect soulmate you could possibly be whether he accepted it or not.

And that led you here, now seniors in college and still acting the way you were when you met. Hongjoong was still cold, treating you like some plague while you could only smile along. You weren’t sure how you missed the fact you lived in a predominantly werewolf area until a public service announcement came on your television one night to remind humans to stay indoors during the full moon, that night dedicated to werewolves being as free as they could be, but it made you even more hopeful when you were on your way home from work one night, taking a shortcut through the woods since it lead right to your backyard.

You were 16 at the time, so the sight of a shirtless person would obviously make you flustered, but a shirtless Hongjoong? Enough to cause a nosebleed. He was 16 as well, the exact age a werewolf develops a mate bond and, seeing as you’ve already been confirmed as soulmates in the human world, the sudden desire to latch onto you and never let you go once you locked eyes only made your lifelong attachment more real, and he was freaking out. He didn’t speak, opting to shift without removing the remainder of his clothes, your eyes wide as he moved deeper through the thick trees and towards the horizon where the orange sky was in full view and, the grin on your face just couldn’t stop growing. You knew werewolves had a stronger drive to their mates, so the idea that he could avoid you forever was laughable. Sure, you were both 23 and he has uped his disdain for you from staying silent to calling you any vile name he could think of, but it was only a matter of time before he came around. You just knew it.

“(Y/n), stop gawking.” Miyeon joked, poking your side to snap you from your daydreams, your eyes widening when you noticed a few of Hongjoong’s friend’s catching your gaze, a blush painting your face as you turned away.

“I wasn’t gawking, just making sure their table was okay. I am their waitress tonight.”

“And every other night because you said, and I quote, ‘I wanna work at any table my Joongie’s going to be at!’” She mocked, your eyes rolling as you looked back towards them.

You took a job at a diner just a few blocks from both your apartment and college campus, the pay great and the distance convenient. It was the only time you had to yourself instead of lingering to Hongjoong, figuring out his classes and breaks to give him snacks and lunches you’d personally make for him since you overheard him complain about the campus food before, only to be told they tasted like shit and he’d find his own food. It was a bit of a kick to the face to hear that, but you had one saving grace: his pack. The first time Hongjoong sent you away with a bitter remark, they were curious about you, tracking you down when they weren’t with their alpha to get more info on who you were and what you found so loveable about the man treating you like some demon. They were surprised by how sweet you were and how accepting you were to be the unwanted luna of an eight-wolf pack. They could never hate Hongjoong but they sure as hell loved you just a little more than him. Unbeknownst to both of you, Yunho and Mingi found out where you worked, making a plan with the others to take Hongjoong there as much as possible so he would have no choice but to interact with you, even if he stayed silent to not appear like an asshole in front of the various strangers dining as well. Hongjoong would honestly never return if he had the choice, but something about the restaurant’s signature burger kept bringing him back, which is why he was here, sipping his soda angrily as he waited on his meal that would be served by his worst nightmare, you.

“I don’t know why you don’t just find someone else. Isn’t it easy for humans to reject soulmates? You could move on with no problems.” She said, helping you grasp onto the steel tray covered in various meals, a huff leaving you as you put on a bright smile.

“Because I know it’s harder to move on for wolves. You guys don’t have a choice on who your mates are, and you just accept it once you meet them. I know Hongjoong will accept me eventually, it’s just gonna take some time.” You gave one more smile before wobbling towards the table in question.

Hongjoong tried not to follow the gaze of his pack as they watched you happily approach them, letting out a huff as you adjusted the tray onto your shoulder, grasping the plates and placing them in front of the respective person, Hongjoong’s nose twitching at the smell of his burgers and fries, not wasting anytime to dig in as the other’s thanked you, but you shyly looked at the male before you, the tray pressed to your chest as you tried to find a casual way to speak with him.

“I-uh- I-I remembered last time you asked for extra cheese, so I decided to put cheese in the burger too! I hope you like it better than the tofu stew I made you for lunch the other week.”

“I didn’t ask for extra cheese this time, so why put it inside my burger where I can’t take it off?” He said spitefully, mouth still full as he set the half-eaten burger down.

Your smile faltered but bounced back as you reached towards his plate.

“O-oh! Well, I can take it back and make you another! This time I ca-“

“’This time’? You should’ve just done it from the start. Your job is to listen and do what you’re told and you can’t even do that? What can you do right?”

You swallowed hard, your eyes wandering to the people now staring at you as the scene unfolded, your heartbeat ringing in your ears as you tried to hold it together. The worst he’s called you in an idiot and that was usually under his breath, so to practically say it out loud, in front of strangers while you were in the middle of a shift and forced to do nothing but smile like you usually would, felt like you were being stabbed and burned simultaneously. You couldn’t keep smiling, looking down as you tried to apologize, only for him to cut you off once again.

“Go bother someone else. Or hide in the back if you’re just gonna keep fucking up this much.”

The space was eerily silent, even with the soft music playing, your eyes not leaving your shoes as you shuffled away. It was a pitiful sight, Seonghwa releasing a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as you went to a neighboring table to retrieve plates and glasses left by a couple from before. He was ready to tear Hongjoong’s head off, not as a gamma to an alpha but as one friend to another, his jaw tight as he prepared to berate him the way he did you but, somehow, Wooyoung beat him by asking a question none of them thought to ask before.

“What did she ever do to you that you have to treat her like that?”

There was a strange but tense silence as they awaited his answer, watching him taking small bites of his fries as he stared ahead at nothing before turning to them with what could only be described as a sadistic smirk.

“Imagine being 13 and finding out the best years of your life, the years of dating, hooking up, just discovering who you are, are gone because your mate decides to show up and take that from you.”

“Are you fucking stupid? That’s the reason we have mates, so we can do those things with one person instead of random people!” Seonghwa nearly yelled, trying to keep his voice low as to not alarm anymore spectators again.

“For the past 7 years, I’ve been trying to get her to leave or just reject me, but it’s clear to me now that she’s just an idiot that doesn’t understand she’s not needed, by me or anyone. And, if you’re as dumb as her, I’ll simplify it for you: she’s unwanted.”

Whatever pain you felt before suddenly disappeared into a numbness you couldn’t explain. He knew you were there, that you could hear him, that you would hear him, and yet he still said it. You were conflicted and sad, your lips curling in a mixture of disgust and anger before settling on a bright smile. Never mind the fact your tears finally spilled over, that your heart ached with every beat and your body felt heavy with the weight of being rejected by someone you waited so long for, you just had to smile. Soulmates were supposed to be a sure thing, supposed to be your happily ever after, yet it just turned out to be a crush, one that you should’ve let die the day you met him.

“(Y/n/n)…” Miyeon spoke cautiously as you made your way towards the bar, your other coworkers watching from beside her as if you were some strange spectacle.

“We have to start cleaning, y’know? It’ll help us get out of here a lot faster tonight.” You said in your usual cheerful tone, tears still flowing and a faint crack to your voice.

“How about you just head home for the day, (Y/n)? We can handle everything from here.” Your manager said, her eyes scanning your face as you moved past them and to the kitchen, their bodies following instinctively.

“What? No! I’m fine! We still have 4 more hours to go and I think if I get a head start with the chefs for tomorrow lunch specials I ca-“

“(Y/n), please-“

“I’m fine, Miyeon! Really! It’s not like I got broken up with or anything, I never even had a boyfriend! Just a crush on someone that thinks I’m a waste of space! Isn’t that super ironic? Spending most of your life chasing after someone that wants nothing to do with you? That’s really funny, right?” You choked out, lips pursing into a thin line to keep in your sobs but your attempts were futile, everything slowly starting to hit you at once until your body collapsed, one of the other servers catching you before you hit the ground.

It was all a blur from there, the words of comfort everyone offered turning into muffled noise as your cries of agony came out freely, the way Miyeon dragged you from the emergency exit at the back of the building and to her car to take you home, and even when you crawled into bed and managed to sleep despite the pounding headache. 7 years came and went and there was nothing to show for it. No soulmate, no boyfriend, no romance, not even a friendship. You were empty and for some reason the only thing filling your heart and mind was the person who broke you.

It felt like time stood still yet hours had passed, Hongjoong back in his own bedroom pressing away at his keyboard, stopping occasionally to write a few notes down from his new composition, but he wasn’t distracted enough to hear his door open, various footsteps entering and even a few bodies settling in on his bed, his eyes not bothering to leave his notebook as he figured this moment would come.

“You don’t need to lecture me.” He grumbled, going back to play a few more notes only to find his keyboard unplugged, Mingi tossing the cord away as his alpha stared him down.

“It’s only a lecture if you listen and learn, which you won’t, so we’re gonna make you feel as bad as possible for driving away the only person that gave a shit about you.” San said with a bright smile, a scoff leaving Hongjoong as he finally turned in his chair to face them, eyes scanning the room to see this situation wasn’t playful but truly hostile, almost like an ambush.

“So, you guys don’t care about me?”

“Trying to get you to accept your soulmate so you don’t die shows we care a lot more than we should.” Yeosang spoke, making himself comfortable as he sat against the pillow and headboard.

“But we’re the real assholes for trying to force her with someone as shitty as you.” Seonghwa finally said, Hongjoong’s head snapping in his direction as he let out a dry chuckle, shifting in his seat so he was leaning backwards, arms crossed as he told himself to stay calm during his friend’s potential tantrum.

“I feel like you have the most to say since you’ve been in love with my mate the longest, so go ahead, tell me how I’m such a bad man, Seonghwa. I’m all ears.” His smugness made the tension worse, Seonghwa stepping closer with clenched fist.

“I’m not in love with you mate, but if I didn’t know someone was waiting for me because we were fated to be together, maybe I would have asked (Y/n) out, because she deserves better than a lowlife with the brain function of a dead goldfish. But I respect her too much as your mate and my luna to not push those boundaries so I tried to help her get closer to you because I know you, Hongjoong. You’re not an asshole or a jerk, but to her? You treat her like shit, when really you’d have no one without her. You’re a short, scrawny, nerdy moron that locks himself in a dark room for days on end just to complete a single project, then emerge to eat cold pizza and watch Despicable Me because your pea-sized brain can’t comprehend anything that isn’t brightly colored animation. If you take away your alpha status, no girl would even look in your direction but you have someone literally at your side, the only human not afraid of you, trying to figure out everything there is to know about you, yet you can’t give her the time of day. You probably don’t even know a damn thing about her.”

“Unfortunately, I know more than enough about her.” Hongjoong spoke, all amusement gone as he glared at the older male, their mindlink clogged with threatening growls and barks, trying to keep their fight from getting physical.

That first sentence alone made Hongjoong’s blood boil, his face contorted in a mixture of pain and disgust. How could Seonghwa even say that to him, plotting to steal his mate all because he was a bit uncertain? That all it was, uncertainty! He didn’t hate you, or wish you weren’t around, he actually grew to anticipate and enjoy your ramblings about your day or whatever new thing caught your attention, he actually even loved the lunches that you’d make for him. He couldn’t help that over the years he grew to crave you more, but the thought of fully accepting you and solidifying that the best years of his life were about to be gone, restricted to one person forever before he could even determine for himself his likes and dislikes, what he considered real love rather than what fate wanted him to feel, was terrifying. So he distanced himself from you, spending the years watching you from afar in hopes that if he didn’t get too close he wouldn’t lose his free will completely.

But it was a bad habit that seeped into your college years, everyone assuming he cared so little for you when he knew everything there was to know. He knew where you worked before any of the boys did, where your apartment was, the fact you were a business major planning to open a bakery once you graduated, he knew you didn’t have classes on Fridays but always came back on campus because you prepared meals for the men’s and women’s wrestling team which is where Jongho first met you, he knew you hated mint chocolate chip ice cream just like him but loved chocolate ice cream with mint chips, he knew you were always cold but overheat at night and wake up at exactly 3am to change into shorts and a tank top to be more comfortable, he knew about the birthmark on your lower back and a scar on your hip from a cat scra-

“Holy shit, you’re insane.” Wooyoung breathed out, Hongjoong’s eyes focusing on the room in front of him, a mixture of shocked expressions and amused ones filling his vision.

“I liked it better when we thought you hated her but, hyung, you’ve been stalking her since your freshman year of high school?” Jongho asked cautiously.

It was a weird feeling bubbling inside Hongjoong, the primary one being embarrassment. He knew he’d sometimes unintentionally rant in their mindlink whenever he was upset but to make an almost decade long secret public to his pack, revealing the intimate details of how you slowly but surely ingrained yourself into not only his brain but his life until he felt like he was going crazy? It made him tear up, his face burn with a blush as he was finally forced to face the truth. He pushed you away but wanted you more than anything. He wanted to spend his years free to explore before finally settling down only to reject every girl that came close to him simply because they weren’t you, and he took that anger out on you. What was he so mad about? The fact you stood by his side with a smile happily accepting him while he tried and failed to lust after other women? Was he that pathetic? He could admit now that he was and, if he could turn back time, he would’ve introduced himself and walked you to class. Just the first step of fully accepting you.

“You’re still ranting in the mindlink, you know?” Seonghwa said softly, regaining the once again lost focus of his alpha who was too consumed in his own pity to notice the tension died down, their gazes soft as they tried to sympathize with their leader.

“Sorry. I wish none of you heard that stuff.” He admitted, sniffling as he realized he’d been crying, hand hurriedly wiping away tears from his cheeks.

“Well, it’s a good thing we did. We still think you’re a moron, but at least we know you’re feeling guilty about all of this.”

“Don’t worry, Joong, if you know (Y/n) like we do, she always sees the best in people, so she’ll forgive you. But you still have to apologize.” San followed up Mingi’s words, wrapping an arm around Hongjoong shoulders while giving a bright smile in response to his weak one.

“She’s my TA in Calc 3 and I have that class around noon tomorrow. She always stays after in case anyone has questions, so I can stall until you get there.” Yunho offered, Hongjoong feeling a slight warmth in his chest thinking about it all. He’d let go of his insecurities, fix everything he’s done wrong, and finally have you as his. Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.

And tomorrow did come, but you were nowhere to be found. When Hongjoong arrived to Yunho’s class, he was met with a sympathetic apology on the account that you didn’t show up that day, you weren’t even at any of your other classes. The boys even tried to find you at work only to be met with a mob of your pissed coworkers led by Miyeon, threatening to rip their heads off if she saw their faces again. And that lasted for nearly 3 days, Hongjoong’s hope slowly dwindling away until he noticed two figures sneakily meeting halfway at the school’s entrance to exchange a large white cooler.

He recognized those bulky arms anywhere, and the thick Aussie accent was a dead giveaway as well, especially when it was followed by a distinct giggle. There was no mistaking it was Chan, but he could barely see the person with him, their voice low as they spoke to him and face hidden beneath a hood, but the scent emitting from them was strong, and beautiful, his eyes widening as he finally took it all in. You looked different, wearing a dark grey matching sweat suit which was a complete 180 from your usual attire, and you smelled faintly of passionfruit, possibly a change to your normal shampoo in an attempt to disguise yourself, but that thought only made his heart hurt more. Were you intentionally avoiding him? He could understand you hating him now but you were even ignoring the others in his pack, going from friends to complete strangers in a matter of hours and leaving them all devastated. He was going to fix this, here and now, if not for him and you than for his friends.

“Jongho’s been pretty upset about you not responding to his text. It’d really help if you stopped by to at least let him know you’re okay.” Chan pleaded, giving you a dimpled smile and hopeful gaze that made it impossible for you to hide your blushing face and grin.

“I just need a little more time, Chris. It’s like if you broke up with your mate and all the friends you made through her left you too. Except it’s me being broken up with by someone who was never my boyfriend and his friends came to me instead of me going to them. But, still, it hurts all the same.” You laughed slightly, trying to find some humor in the situation.

“You’re the only person that still calls me Chris.” He commented, trying to redirect the conversation as you clearly weren’t fine, neither of you noticing the burning glare just a few meters away.

“I just think it fits you best.” You admitted, neither of you breaking eye contact until you gasped, staring down to the box of food and drinks you bought.

“You should hurry to practice. You need to eat beforehand otherwise you’ll be weak after warmups alone. And I worked hard making those sandwiches and cutting that fruit, if it goes bad because you stayed here to cheer me up, I’ll really be mad.” You tried to put on your best scowl, your scolding undermined by his amused laughter.

“Alright, fine. Just stay safe, please?” You nodded, waving as you watched him turn to head to the school’s gymnasium, missing the way Chan glared at Hongjoong as he continued forward. Chan and Hongjoong’s packs were close, family almost, so the news of what Hongjoong did and why reached them in no time, and Chan was hoping today things would be fixed soon because, apart from you being the wrestling team’s beloved personal chef, you were like a sister to him.

You wasted no time leaving the campus behind, ready to go back into the darkness of your bedroom to forget you existed. You really wish you could disappear, that the ground would split beneath you and swallow you whole, but you couldn’t just leave when your phone was filled with calls and messages from friends and coworkers wondering where you were and if you were fine. So many people cared, what kind of person would you be to leave them all alone like this, especially when all they wanted was to help you? But being alone helped, trying to live life as normal as possible while adjusting to a Hongjoong-free lifestyle helped. It would take some time, but you’d find your normal someday. All you had to do was avoid-

“(Y/n)!” Your body froze.

He rarely called you by your name but his voice was distinct on its own, and it was the most sickly sweet thing you’ve ever heard. You wanted to run, to never have him see you like this. Dear god, how did you even look right now? You felt like shit, you probably looked the part. Dammit, Hongjoong was right all along, you were shit. You were worse than shit, you were just pathetic. A pathetic, lovestruck loser itching to just turn and say hi, to have the conversation you always dreamed of but you knew that wouldn’t happen. He’ll yell at you again. He’ll-

“(Y/n)? H-hi…” Hongjoong said shyly, standing right in front of you as you shrank into yourself.

His brows furrowed as you looked away, mentally arguing with yourself as you went over the days of self-reflecting you did, trying to find some lesson from your solitude to aid in this situation and it was starting to scare him. You were never quiet with him, you always had something to say even if it wasn’t important but, luckily, he had something important to say and hopefully you’d listen.

“I- T-the other day…. I w-was…. I-I’m sorry.” He stammered out, this confession a lot harder than he thought, especially now that you were facing him, eyes just as innocent as the day he met you, but he couldn’t run away this time.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, honestly. Everyone told me I was an idiot and I think they’re right. I treated you like you were garbage for years, all because I didn’t want to be mated so young. I just wanted to date around before I finally settled down with someone and, m-maybe I could’ve just said that, so you didn’t have to wait around for me all these years but, I never hated you, and I can’t hate you. I know you won’t forgive me right away but I think it’s only fair that I can be a good mate to you now.”

He swallowed hard, trying to suppress the desperate ‘please’ he wanted to add as your pupils began to shake, almost as if you were a machine malfunctioning, none of your self-reflecting preparing you for this moment, the only thing coming to mind being some sad blog article you found during your second day of isolation. ‘Forgiving and forgetting too soon is dangerous. Find yourself’. It wasn’t what you wanted but maybe what you need, what he needed. So, without hesitation, you smiled brightly at him although it never reached your eyes, clearing your throat as you tried to keep your voice steady.

“Hongjoong, I can’t forgive you easily. I waited for you, I tried to make you accept me and it always ended up with me getting hurt. Honestly, if I just treated you like a regular crush, maybe we could’ve forgotten we’re meant to be together until after graduation or something.” You laughed awkwardly, wanting to look away as his eyes softened in the saddest way, but you needed to do this, eyes locked on his as you exhaled through your nose.

“I couldn’t be by your side all the time, so whether you dated anyone is still a mystery to me but, I’ve been alone for seven years hoping you’d come around, and I think it’s time I take those years back. I’m not sure if what you said counted as a rejection or if we’re still mates but, if we are, we’ll come back to each other eventually. For now, I just need some time.”

You managed to walk past him without completely collapsing in tears, speed walking back to your apartment as you tried to swallow sobs, not even taking in the way Hongjoong stumbled to follow you, almost like a zombie as he attempted to plead for you to reconsider, to force himself to accept your decision but ask how long you needed, but he couldn’t do that. He tried to picture himself in your shoes, seven years of pining only to be publicly humiliated by the person you were meant to spend the rest of your life with. He couldn’t blame you for not forgiving him, and he sure as hell couldn’t force you, so he let you go, trudging in the opposite direction to his two story apartment just to hide in his bedroom until he didn’t feel like dying anymore.

But as more days passed and it only got harder for Hongjoong. He barely left his room but also never slept, every song he created was played in minor scales to fit his now melancholy life. The charisma he typically exuded was hidden with puffy red eyes from crying and a yellow knit sweater a few sizes too large for his body but it was the only thing that comforted him at this point, especially when knowing you had reconnected with everyone but him.

After exactly one week of distancing yourself from the world, you caved and meet with the boys individually (sans Hongjoong), apologizing for needing space although they completely understood, but the way each interaction ended made your guts churn with guilt. ‘Stay safe, luna’, that’s how all of them addressed you before they left, leaving you filled with the desire to return to how things were before. You missed your friends and, the fact your mate was finally ready to claim you, only made you want to forgive Hongjoong sooner. But you needed to be your own person for once. You had seven years worth of relationships to catch up on and you wouldn’t let them keep you from that.

Except when they did.

You should’ve known it was risky letting them know you had a date so soon, just some other human on campus that had yet found his soulmate. They sounded happy for you, Wooyoung going so far to ask where you met and where your date would be and what time, giving suggestions on what to say and wear since it was “your first”. It was a sweet gesture, and you thought nothing of it, but that information meant everything to him which led to now, the boys huddled together in their living room with a slightly paler and sickly looking Hongjoong curled into the corner of their loveseat.

“So they’re going bowling tonight at 8:30? We could ask her about it tomorrow in case she’s into him because hyung isn’t looking too great.” Yeosang commented, everyone looking to Hongjoong as he managed to drown his entire body within the sweater, only his head visible as he stared ahead like some lost puppy.

“He’s just weak from not being around her for so long, but their bond is still there so he’s fine. But we have nothing to worry about. She won’t fall in love with him so don’t get too involved, she’ll just stop talking to us again if we meddle too much.” Seonghwa warned, a chorus of ‘Okays’ confirming their dismissal as they all stood to retreat to their bedrooms.

“Wait, who is she going out with anyways? There’s only 10 other humans at that school.” Mingi’s question cause everyone to freeze, the silence in the room contrasting with the faint answer Woooyung gave in their mindlink, Hongjoong turning to look at him with hurt and pain.

“Why didn’t you say it was Yugyeom?!”

“I did! Just not to you, until now because I forgot to tune you out.” He said shyly, flinching as Hongjoong ran past him and right out their front door, none of them sure of what to do at that point.

It was such a minor yet major detail. Kim Yugyeom was admittedly the most wanted person any of them could think of. Human girls wanted him, werewolf girls wanted him, most guys couldn’t help but stare whenever he passed by. He was gorgeous with eyes that sparkled every time he smiled. He spoke about his soulmate with so much passion despite never meeting her, following his words with how he’d treat any girl before her with the same love and care. It was a pick up line meant to hook any hopelessly romantic girl in, the sweetest way to say their relationship wouldn’t last. But this was Kim Yugyeom, they knew it was only meant with good intentions, not wanting to string someone along with the false hope they’d be together forever. And that’s exactly what you needed. To explore while knowing you’d always come back to Hongjoong. But that’s not what Hongjoong wanted. He didn’t want you dating anyone else, finding temporary happiness when he was supposed to give you a lifetime of it. And humans were more flexible with their soulmates, they had the privilege to move one without the pain or withdrawals of losing their mate. Werewolves just died if they were rejected, heartbreak and loneliness consuming them, so there was no telling how your heart would react to someone exactly like you. Maybe you’ll fall in love with him. Maybe he’ll abandon his soulmate for you once he learns how amazing you are. Maybe Hongjoong would die from lack of food and sleep before he even reached your apartment, which he was still sprinting full speed towards. It was only 7:30pm, meaning he had an hour before you and Yugyeom went out, but he didn’t have a plan. He had no idea what he was doing, but he needed to stop you before you found yourself in love with someone else.

It was like some scene in a drama, Hongjoong’s chest heaving as he finally came to a stop just outside your apartment. His body felt like giving out as he climbed the two flights of stairs to your door, only to find you waving shyly to Yugyeom just as he turned away, trying not to lock eyes with Hongjoong but Hongjoong’s eyes were only trained on you, yours finding his as a panicked look crossed your face. Should you look away? Go back inside? What was he even doing there? You never told the boys your address… You gasped as he approached you, swallowing hard as you tried to remain calm, but how could you stay calm when you finally got a good look at him?

“Oh my god, are you okay?” You didn’t hesitate to ask, stepping further from your door to examine him, reaching for his face only to stumble back to your original position. You were making great progress, you can’t do that now.

“I’ve been better, but even then I wasn’t fine.” He said with a dry chuckle, your lips curling into a fake smile to not show how much his appearance affected you. He looked like he was on the brink of death. You knew wolves would get sick without their mates, but was it really killing him? Were you killing him?

“Joongi-Uhm, Hongjoong, how about you sit down? You look like you’re going to faint.” You offered, stepping back to allow him inside, watching him stumble past you and straight to your sofa as if he owned the place.

It was such an awkward moment for you, watching the poor boy curl into himself as his sweater practically became his body, a sigh leaving your lips as you shut your door. Instead of healing yourself, you had to heal him. It was oddly pitiful but your instincts screamed at you to do it.

Hongjoong shut his eyes as he eased into your sofa, feeling more comfortable than he was in his own home, even more so with your scent invading his senses, your body warmth radiating onto his as you carefully took a seat, trying to figure out what to do.

“Do you need food, or water? Or a doctor?” You asked, the giggle he let out this time weak but still enough to make your heart beat a bit faster.

“I just need you near me.” He admitted.

You let out a squeak as he shamelessly fell into your lap, head comfortably resting against your thighs as he laid face up. You couldn’t stop your hand from easing through his unnaturally colored locks, melting at how soft they were, bottom lip trapped under your teeth as you had to fight off the desire to cup his face. You’ve never gotten this close to him and he wasn’t telling you to go away, instead letting out content purrs as he nuzzled closer to you, your eyes burning with unshed tears. Why couldn’t he just want you from the start? You’d would’ve been able to hold him like this all the time, to see him happy and healthy rather than a shell of his former self. But he didn’t want you, and now he was at your apartment just to keep himself from dying. It was silly to think he cared about you as much as he did himself.

“Of course you do.” You whispered, laughing bitterly as your hand left his hair, moving to his arm to ease him back up into a sitting position.

You couldn’t get past him no matter how hard you tried, nor did you want to, but every word he said, everything he’s done, followed you like a ghost haunting some poor unsuspecting soul. Why did you have to love someone who didn’t love you the same? Why was this your life?

“Can you just hold me a little longer? P-please?” He asked with a cute whine to his voice.

You sighed and grabbed his arm, gently pulling him back into his previous position, fingers massaging his scalp as he finally opened his eyes to look at you. You were beautiful, even with the frown lines etched into your face. He wonder how long they’ve been there, especially when he’s only seen you smiling. Maybe you spent your alone time more upset than he thought. Where you upset before he came? You couldn’t be when Yugyeom was here, no one could be upset with him around. Except Hongjoong. He felt a grudge building inside him just from the mere thought of him with you. He felt like interrogating you on what he was doing here in the first place and why you gave your address out to just anyone, but it wasn’t his place to ask and probably wouldn’t be for a while, but jealousy and rage was all he felt so any reasonable thinking was thrown out the window.

“I don’t want you to see Yugyeom anymore.” He said definitely, your eyes widened as you stared at him incredulously, an amused giggle leaving your lips.

“That’s not for you to choose, Hongjoong. I told you I need time-“

“Those seven years you’ve been waiting I couldn’t be with anyone else. I always compared every girl I met to you and none of them came close to being as perfect, now I have to watch you date some dance major with pretty eyes because I was an insecure dumbass? He has a soulmate, and he’s always going to choose them no matter how much you like each other, so why not save your feelings? I’ll wait as long as you want me to, but just don’t fall in love with anyone else.”

You tried so hard to hide your smile. This wasn’t something you typically liked, possessive guys being on the list of things you found annoying, but considering it was Hongjoong, his soft eyes hard and sharp as their hue seemed to go pitch black as his words were both sweet and demanding, made you fall in love just a little more than you already were. You wanted to take this as his confession, as a truce in your previous one-sided enemyship, to tell him that you told Yugyeom you couldn’t go out with him because you could only see yourself with Hongjoong, but you needed time. Not time to date and explore the way you thought he had, but to watch him work as hard as you did to prove he was ready and willing to love you. It was a little malicious, sure, but it was all in good fun. He’d always be your mate after all.

“I don’t know, Hongjoong, you really hurt me…”

“It hurt knowing I wasn’t with you.” Your smile cracked through, causing his own to appear, your game already over.

“And how do you think I felt? You think you can make up seven years worth of waiting so easily?”

You squealed as he shot up, magically seeming more alive than when he arrived, eyes full of life and his lips and cheeks the same rosy color as when you met him, hands warm and soft as he cupped your face.

“Good thing I have forever to do it.”

The silence was comfortable but unbearable, especially as he hesitated to lean closer, your lips puckering to guide him but he didn’t seem to be catching on and, when he did, you shifted back, laughing awkwardly as you stared at one another, both of you taking a deep breath as you finally closed the gap between you, a weird electric sensation you could only dream of as your lips slowly grew accustom to one another, moving so slow yet feeling so urgent. It was all still new to the both of you, romance and dating only now becoming part of your lives, but it was exciting knowing that you had years ahead of you to perfect it, your entire lives dedicated to loving one another. And it only took a seven year crush to get you here.

[shinsouskitten]

Shinsou Hitoshi nsfw alphabet

damn kat back at it again with the thirst i hate myself 

Idk how I haven’t done a nsfw alphabet for my KING yet but I’m disappointed in myself for it

this post was mostly finished before the whole ‘this cold makes me feel like im dying’ thing so i just had to add a few and it was ready for publishing (bonus points if you can tell which ones were added in my cold-induced craziness)

Warnings: you know it, you love it, the thirsting of a lonely writer

---

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Shinsou is a king when it comes to aftercare. Hot baths, massages, cuddles, you name it. You mean the absolute world to him, and he’ll go out of his way to show that, both in and out of the bedroom

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and their partner’s)

Shinsou can be pretty self critical, but if you pushed for an answer he’d probably say his hair, cause he knows how much you like it. For his partner, horny Shinsou would immediately go for your neck (literally too). He loves how a single kiss can turn you into putty in his hands, and he’ll leave marks in places he knows you can’t hide just to prove to the world that you’re his

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Inside you, on you, he doesn’t really mind. Whatever you prefer, he’s happy with. If you want to get messy, he’s more than happy to help, but if not he’ll keep you clean (ish). Although he’s unlikely to admit it, seeing you swallow his cum ignites a fire in Shinsou, and sets up quite a few more rounds so he can give you a reward for being so good

D = Dirty secret (pretty clear, a dirty secret of theirs)

Shinsou’s pretty open with what he wants, but when you first start getting intimate there’ll be a few things he doesn’t really want to say in case he scares you away (he could never, but he still worries). He wants to experiment, but he makes sure he knows your boundaries before he suggests anything too out there. The thing he keeps secret for the longest is the desire to wrap your neck in a beautiful collar emblazoned with his name, simply cause he doesn’t want you to think it’s weird

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He does his research, but hands on experience is pretty limited before you. It’s a learning curve, both of you learning what makes the other tick, what causes you the highest amount of pleasure, and what to steer clear of

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Loves to see you ride him. It gives you the power to control the tempo, but also gives him a beautiful view to tip him over the edge of ecstasy. More needy Shinsou (aka when he’s in hornball mode) likes doggy style, cause it means he can pull your hair or hold you up against him and kiss your neck

G = Goofy (how serious are they in the moment?)

He’s not going to whip out a joke book in the middle of sex, but he’s also not going to act like an uptight secretary who’s only able to follow the rules (well, not unless you ask 👀) 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Keeps himself trimmed, possibly even shaved. It’s no nonsense and means it’s also more enjoyable for you if you’re giving him head

I = Intimacy (how romantic are they in the moment?)

He’s an intimate guy, but he’s also not above teasing (though there’s another letter for that so I’ll keep on intimate for now). Like I mentioned in B, Shinsou can be pretty self critical, and sometimes he can get scared that you’ll leave him if he doesn’t prove how much he loves you, which to him means intimate sex and reassurance (aka, saying ‘I love you’ every two seconds)

J = Jack off (what are their views on masturbation?)

He does it when needed. He’s not insanely horny, so chances are if he is you’re there to deal with him. But if you’re not, and he’s especially needy, he’ll most likely call you up for a little phone session. The thought of you is incredible, but being able to see and hear you is even better

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I think we all know the phrase kitty, right? Well inference leads me to believe that Shinsou would be down for trying out pet play. And yes, as I mentioned before, he would 100% have a collar for you with his name on it. I don’t take criticism for that one

L = Location (favorite places to do the dance with no pants)

More traditional. Sex between the two of you means intimacy, so he’d prefer privacy. You have yet to find a surface in your house he hasn’t tried to fuck you on. That being said, your comfort is of the utmost importance to Shinsou, so if he’s going to fuck you over the kitchen counter, he’s going to make sure you feel comfortable while he does it. So yes, that means he’ll take pillows off the sofa’s just to make you comfy

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going, etc)

You. Simple as. There are certain things that especially turn him on, such as you biting your lip or being extra attentive to him in what would seem like a normal scene to anyone else watching. Put your hand on his thigh when out at dinner and pay the price when you get home. Or maybe that was your plan all along

N = No (turn offs, something they wouldn’t do)

Shinsou never wants you to be in pain (well not unless you want to be in pain). He’ll leave hickies all over you, but that’s about as far as he’ll go with marking you. Maybe a spank here and there, but he won’t scar you or leave any marks that won’t be gone in a few days

O = Oral (do they prefer giving or receiving? how skilled are they?)

Shinsou prefers giving, but he’ll never say no to receiving either. He wants you to feel good, but if you decide to turn the tables he’s not going to deny you. Once you’re finished though, he’s repaying the favor tenfold. And just as a note, pull his hair when he goes down on you. He adores it

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Yes and yes. It all depends on the situation, his mood, the usual things. He’ll do whatever provides you with the most pleasure (while also allowing him to tease you)

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies)

He doesn’t love them, but if they’re the only way to get some gratification then he’s willing (only if you are though). He’s careful about location, he doesn’t want someone walking in and ruining the whole thing, even if the risk of being caught makes everything a little more exciting. Chances are he won’t engage in quickies unless he’s been to the place at least once before (he wants to know which wall you’d look best pinned to). He has to feel slightly comfortable in the environment

R = Risk (how risky are they willing to be?)

He’s down for a little risk, but nothing that would be too mortifying for you. If he’s going to screw you somewhere other than your home, he’s going to vet the place over a lot, and find the best place where you have the comfort of being private but the thrill of being caught if someone were to venture too close to your hideout

S = Stamina (how long do they last? how many rounds?)

Freaking hell where does he get it from? Like, he just doesn’t stop. Not that that’s a bad thing, mind you. Most of the rounds consist of him pleasing you, and he’ll only give in and finally fuck you when your throat is hoarse from begging, or when he feels the smallest amount of pity at the tears rolling down your face (did someone say crying kink)

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them on a partner or themselves?)

Vibrating panties. I said he doesn't physically act on desires when in public, but touching a remote isn’t the same thing as touching you, so he makes an exception. He’s not insanely cruel. For him it’s more about teasing that mortification, so if someone senses something’s wrong, he turns off the remote until they give up. But the moment they’re gone, it’s back stronger than ever

U = Unfair (how much do they tease?)

*roblox oof sound effect*

Once Shinsou gains his confidence with you, he’s not going back. His teasing is often coupled with praise, telling you how good you’re being for him while he denies you pure bliss again and again. He’ll edge you to hell and back if you give him the chance, but don’t worry, it’s worth it in the end

V = Volume (how they sound, how loud they are, etc)

Small moans and louder grunts are the main sounds coming from Shinsou when he’s enjoying himself. He swears a lot, and it’s always easy to tell how close he is to the edge by how creative his swears become. As for his partner, he wants to know how well he’s doing. He wants to hear you whine and beg while he edges you, and the pornstar-like moans that fill the air when he finally gives in and gives you what you really want

W = Wild card (a random headcanon)

You think I forgot about his quirk. Ha, I could never. I said in my hcs that it takes a while for Shinsou to integrate quirk use into sex. As much as you assure him you’re in full trust, he’s anxious about the inability to say no when he has you under his control. The longer you’re together the more willing he is, but even when he does use it it’s usually a way to make edging even more dangerous, with you unable to resist his words when he tells you you’re not allowed to cum just yet

Okay maybe we have 2 wild cards this time cause I also wanna mention his capture weapon. Again, it’ll take a while for it to be available in a less-than-pg manner, but he’s more willing to use his capture weapon than his quirk. Main reason being, you can still use a safeword when tied up. But tying up goes both ways, so even if he prefers to be the one giving the pleasure, he’d never deny your wishes

X = X-ray (let’s have a looksee in those pants)

I’m trying not to be biased cause I love him so much but I feel like Shinsou’s kinda packing. A good 8.5-9 inches (no, I won’t take criticism) and on the skinnier side. But the amount of attention he gives you before his pants are even off means taking him is never difficult

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not the highest, but when you’re around it increases significantly. He’s not going to fuck you every time he sees you (I mean, he thinks about it) but he also isn’t a nun. It’s a good level, cause most days you can walk, and then on the weekends you’re a little bedridden

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’s a bit of an insomniac, so screwing the energy out of him is one of the best ways to get Shinsou tired enough to sleep. He likes to hold you, so once he’s satisfied with the aftercare, he’ll crawl in bed for cuddles until the both of you pass out

[fyeah-bangtan7]

V: “I have a desire to perfect one cool thing about myself”

As he’s being interviewed, V speaks his mind at a relaxed pace. But there was one moment where he kept on speaking without taking a breath. Look for that moment in the interview below. You listen to a lot of old music on vinyl. Has any particular artist’s music excited you since your last interview with Weverse Magazine? V: I was listening to Louis Armstrong’s music again. And I picked up some albums with a pretty jacket that’s also got a lot of really good hits on it.

How do you feel when you’re listening to those classics? V: I feel like I’m beginning to relax a bit. If I listen to a song when I’m feeling depressed and then really get thinking, the things that are frustrating me disappear, and I can feel myself becoming more peaceful. And it makes me picture things in my head. For example, some songs might make me think of seeing something in front of me while walking down the road somewhere at night when I listen to them. I think setting the mood for listeners is the most important thing. The mood will presumably be different for everyone, but for me, those songs are the ones that are good at setting a really beautiful mood in the moment.

You said that you got inspiration from artists of the past like Sammy Davis Jr. for your performance in “Dynamite.” Was there any artist who inspired you for “Butter”? V: Well, there was Billy Joel. When I shoot a music video, I think of a movie more than any one artist. And when I perform on stage, for some songs I think of the way movies like Reservoir Dogs look. For “Butter,” I watched a lot of teen movies. And musicals. After that I randomly ended up seeing a video on YouTube of some scenes from an old teen movie Johnny Depp did [which turned out to be the movie Cry-Baby]. The image I got from that was really intense. That’s the look I used in “Butter.”

“Butter” felt like a teen musical to me and now I know why. V: I did it like a teen musical, just like you say. When we shot the “Butter” music video, I really, really tried to shoot the part in the elevator so it would feel like a teen movie. Although a lot of takes were edited, so not all of it’s there. (laughs)

What kind of feeling do you get from that kind of teen movie that you find so charming? V: For me, teen movies show a youthfulness that’s appropriate for the age. I think there’s an appropriate mix of emotion, energy, and a completely different and peculiar mood that everyone necessarily experiences at that age. If you watch teen movies, they’re overflowing with energy and full of sunny emotion, but behind it all they’re not as bright as they seem. They are really bright, but the color itself almost feels like some kind of filter. They feel like they have a different filter than other movies, so I tried thinking of teen movies when we shot the music video and put on performances.

That teen movie feeling seems to be divided in two between “Butter” and “Permission to Dance.” By the looks of the thumbnails for the fancam focus videos uploaded to the BANGTANTV YouTube channel, “Butter” seems to showcase a really cool character, while “Permission to Dance” is more teenagers smiling brightly for children. V: The teen movie vibe in “Butter” and “Permission to Dance” are different from one another. We showed the sunny image people usually think of when they think of teen movies in “Permission to Dance.”

Do you think that going with the teen movie vibe influenced your vocals to be the new style that you used? In “Butter,” you still had your signature vocals but without the deep notes, giving them a new feeling. V: That’s because, when we’re given a concept, we have to come up with vocals that fit with the concept. I think my singing style matched up with the concept, so I feel relatively satisfied. There was nothing majorly difficult about actually changing the style itself, since unlike changing your voice, you only have to change your vocal technique. Having said that, even though the notes in “Butter” were high for me, I still hit them! (laughs)

I guess hitting the high notes was your assignment this time around as a vocalist. V: I’ve been working a long time to make up for my weak points. For example, I thought I was weak when it comes to high notes because I sing low parts a lot and I tend to sing in a flowing way. But I had trouble when we were recording “Dynamite” and I had to sing the high notes during the chorus. I got so mad (laughs) so I practiced a lot.

How does it feel to see the results you’re seeing with “Butter” now after all that effort? V: I’m just trying not to rest on my laurels. Like instead of savoring the feeling, I feel like I should go to bed early for everything I have to do the next day? Getting back in tiptop shape quickly is what’s important, so I haven’t really had time to bask in the joy very much. I’m just working hard at the work I had like I always do.In your 

New Year’s greeting on YouTube, you said you regretted not being able to put on the show for ARMY you wanted, and that your 2021 resolution is to “follow my own pace and pattern” when you work on music. Do you think your personal pace and your professional pace are in step this year? V: No. [My professional pace is] fast, so fast. (laughs) We have a lot we have to get ready for since we’re always promoting. It can be challenging sometimes, but in a way, I think it’s also given me a good opportunity to become a little stronger.

I imagine it’s meaningful to do the work for your own songs, because you can slip into your own world. You also made “Blue & Grey” when you were having a hard time, and it consequently became a song that allowed you to empathize with many people and vice versa. Looking back now, what kind of song do you think “Blue & Grey” will be remembered as? V: I think with “Blue & Grey” I just wanted the song to let people know how I was feeling, and how we were feeling, at that time a little better. Obviously everyone was having a hard time, but I think I wanted to share those emotions with ARMY as-is, including the pains we went through in our growth process. And, to put it another way, I think I just felt like making it obvious. (laughs) I thought it was okay to be that obvious, seeing as I couldn’t put those feelings into words. I just hope people could understand how I was feeling; it’s okay if it becomes forgotten later on.

In the “BE-hind Story” interview on YouTube, you talked about the first line of “Blue & Grey”: “Where is my angel?” You explained how, when you have any kind of issue, you close your eyes and wish for your angel to come and think. Are there times when it seems like your angel understands your feelings, as you just mentioned? V: I get a ton of answers by doing it. I’m not religious, but whenever I have some kind of issue, I close my eyes and think about it. Is this right, the way I’m thinking about this, or not? They’re just yes or no questions, like, Does my outfit look good today? Instead of just worrying about what you should do, if you tackle it in the form of a question, you  get a response with the answer.

I guess it could work when you’re looking for inspiration in your life, but what about for your music? In your previous Weverse Magazine interview, you said you make a note whenever you feel something. V: I write in my diary in hopes that it’ll help with writing lyrics and so I don’t forget those feelings. I do it constantly—I open up my diary whenever something comes up. I copy melodies that pop up in my mind, lyrics, and other things from my diary to my notes app temporarily, and when I’m taking a break or I get the urge to work, I open my notes and say, Let’s try this out today, and run over to the studio.

You released “Snow Flower,” featuring Peakboy by V, on Christmas Day. Is that another song you ran to the studio to work on after the feeling came to you? V: For that song, when I was drinking with some older musicians, we were talking about doing a song together, and then we were like, Well, do you think we’ll have time to do that? So we decided to do it right then since everyone was available. My mixtape was delayed, so I at least wanted to play a different song for ARMY, and I thought, since I’m a bit tipsy (laughs) I thought I should try writing something. So I made the song really quickly. In maybe three hours.

Even though you made it quickly, the composition is somewhat complex and it has the same unique atmosphere that “Blue & Grey” did. V: There’s times when I’m, like, in the zone (laughs) and can make a song all in one sitting, but when I’m not feeling it, I end up revising it more and more. And I don’t want the composition to be too obvious, so I try to change up the way the melody flows. With that kind of sharp image coming to you almost immediately, what were you imagining for that song? V: You might think “Snow Flower” is about a type of snowflake, but I was actually thinking about snow and flowers separately. I started hoping that flowers wouldn’t wither away and just keep on blooming on snowy days. But in reality, when it snowed, all the flowers were crushed, the world became blanketed in snow, and I felt like the flower buds turned into snow flowers. I wrote that song about how I felt after watching that happen.

It must be important to feel things intuitively when you’re trying to express yourself through song. V: If it sounds pretty to me: approved. (laughs)

On the other hand, as a member of BTS, you have a job where you have to deal with a packed schedule and keep various situations in mind. How does that make you feel? When you celebrated your Billboard Hot 100 win on V LIVE and the topic of your clothes came up, you joked that you wore them to give off an idol vibe. V: It’s fun. It’s fun, but I could also say it’s hard. The performances are fun. I think idols should shine in a way that’s suitable for their age, and it’s important to do lots of things for fans like ARMY. Not just performances, but also posting pictures, having conversations on social media, making content. We’re artists and idols, so we think each and every one of those things is important. That sentiment won’t change just because we’ve achieved so much success.

You recently held an impromptu event on Weverse for ARMY. V: I’m sure there’s lots of ARMY out there who are tired of not being able to see us in person. But since the only thing we can do for them is to be on stage and stuff, I was worried that we’re not doing enough for them. And I love being able to talk with ARMY so much that now it’s like a habit that I read their posts. I have a thing today. I have a test today. I’m moving today. Somehow I feel better when I hear their stories. When I end up reading things like about how ARMY are living or what kind of lives ARMY have, I can’t help but write a response, and because of that ARMY respond, so I try to become friendlier in a more fun way, too. I want us to be more than the Billboard number one Bangtanies—I want to be ARMY’s partner, their best friend, the friend who’s always by their side when we’re not on stage. It feels like business when I talk about communicating with ARMY. (laughs) I just want to talk with a close friend. I wanna talk with a close friend—that’s exactly how I feel. It’s been a long time since I could see my friend, ARMY. Usually when friends can’t see each other they keep in touch all the time. I can talk about all kinds of things like that with ARMY thanks to the Weverse platform, and because I can hear all about their lives, I think I was able to go on Weverse and hold that kind of event.

You’ve been talking about ARMY nonstop for a few minutes. I was going to ask you how you feel about ARMY, but I think you already answered the question. (laughs) V: They’re just, well, friends I would hate to lose. Friends who seriously give me strength whenever they’re around. Sometimes you find friends like that in life. It’s like that with the other members, and I have other friends who I can share my feelings with. And I have ARMY. So I can’t help but do whatever I can do to make those people smile and make them feel happy.

Well then, is there a song you’ve heard that you want to let ARMY know about? A song that shares your feelings. V: Umm, recently … “No. 1 Party Anthem” by Arctic Monkeys. When I hear that song … I get emotional, somehow. I don’t usually listen to a lot of rock music, but I can instantly feel the band’s emotions with that song. I seriously get goosebumps listening to it, and emotional, and just all kinds of feelings. It’s to the point that, as soon as I hear that song, I think about how I really want to live well.

That song really means a lot to you. V: Actually, I don’t really know what’s up with that song. I don’t even know the lyrics, but I’m quite clear on what sort of emotions the melody and the band’s performance give me.

Don’t you feel like that’s an emotion you want to express to people, as an artist? Like you don’t have to explain your messages in detail? V: I don’t know. I just want to exchange the good, and be the one to embrace the bad. So I have a desire to perfect one cool thing about myself.

So how close do you think you are right now to becoming an artist who has perfected something cool? V: I’ll say 2%. It’ll go up someday later. (laughs)

© source

[jazzythursday]

My Take on The Loki Series, And All The Things I Would Change About/Add To It If I Could (in vaguely chronological order)

Small disclaimer: This is just a compilation of all the ideas I had for ways the Loki Series could have gone, expanding on the main premise. It doesn’t cover everything, simply the aspects of the plot that I felt compelled to diverge from specifically. It’s not meant as an overly harsh critique of the show, just alternate possibilities. A… variant of the show if you will (It’s also egregiously long and yet I had to stop myself from saying more).

The series opens in the TVA with a display of the branching timeline that Loki created. We don’t meet any characters yet or see anyone’s faces, only hearing readings of codes and tracking of the Loki ‘variant’ before switching to Loki.

After traveling with the Tesseract, he takes in his surroundings (it can be the Gobi Desert but the thing with the Mongolians does not happen) but before he can get too far the TVA shows up.

I think it would be interesting to have a sequence of Loki evading them in different environments. Teleporting to different areas/planets and using different forms/disguises (maybe we see a Lady Loki in a restaurant, our Loki, and a few other outfits), however the TVA finds him every time no matter where or what form.

Eventually he gets fed up of running and confronts them directly. This should be an actual fight, i.e. magic and a Loki who is committed to not being taken down again. Ultimately through use of magic dampening technology or other means (but for the love of god not whatever that punch was), he is apprehended and taken into the TVA.

I think the TVA should have been a lot more crowded. They control/ monitor all of time, so we should have seen tons of variants of all shapes/colors/styles/species, maybe even a few characters we recognize (like in the concept art for the show). Show us that Loki is not special here, he is just another variant to be processed and done with, like all the others.

Loki will have already noticed and felt a lack of magic at the TVA, maybe he tried to use it already so by the time we get to the judge his main concern is talking his way out—Putting his ‘silver tongue’ to use. (Lack of magic in the TVA would be referenced later as well when Loki goes to summon a knife or use magic, only to remember that he can’t there).

This is a very small point but if the TVA knows him as Laufeyson, he absolutely would take offense to that. It’s been one year since he found out about and killed his birth father, I’d assume wants nothing to do with the title. Of course the TVA wouldn’t care, and we’d probably get something like:

“I am Loki, of Asgard, and you will address me as such.”

“I think you’ll find out things work a little differently here at the TVA, Mr. Laufeyson.”

Before he’s able to be pruned we have Mobius step in and plead his case.

If the show wants to portray Mobius as a friend we’ll see him have sympathy and conflicts about the TVA from the beginning. He doesn’t quite fit in, he’s bored of the monotony of the place and he has remorse for what they’re doing, but knows it’s not his place to question it. I like the idea of him being somewhat of a fan of Loki (they did mention this in the show but then proceeded to have him belittle Loki every time he opened his mouth which is uh… a choice). Mobius needs Loki’s help but he also has the desire to help Loki. He’s seen how his life plays out and understands that there’s more in him than his worst decisions. I think that Mobius secretly/ subconscious wants a bit of chaos, that he’s intrigued by Loki and as an analyst has an interest in understanding him.

Loki vs B15 would ideally happen before Loki returns to the time theater with the Tesseract instead of after. It would not be so easy for her to physically overpower him as even without magic he still has enhanced strength. (The minutemen show no signs of being genetically much stronger than humans, so arguably without use of their technology it’s obvious he could take one in a fight.

Back in the time theater after Loki’s watched the reel of his life, much of the conversation happens the same albeit with a greater emphasis on Loki’s true motivations and his feelings of powerlessness in his role. A bit about Thanos too (realistically vague). Perhaps he thought at the time he was doing what he wanted, but is starting to realize he doesn’t know anymore. Then we see a version of:

“I can’t promise you salvation, but maybe I can offer you something better.”

“A proposition, I see you have done your research. So tell me, agent, what would you have me do?”

Mobius explains why they need him to track down a variant of himself, and they shake on it. It’s clear that neither of them trust each other yet, but there is a mutual understanding that they will work together anyway.

Their friendship should grow naturally, slowly gaining each other’s trust until they see each other as true allies. In this there are more episodes than in the actual show (I’ll say 8 instead of 6). Give them a few more adventures and a bit more time for splitting up to hurt.

In Roxxcart, we see more use of magic. He dries himself off, maybe shape shifts into/imitates B15 or a minuteman. Loki uses illusions in the fight against the variant. He tries to reason with and understand what they are doing and why. The fight is somewhat matched although Loki is still holding back, fighting with misdirection as the variant fights using possession. Neither of them are showing themselves, and in an attempt to make the variant stop hiding, Loki disperses all the doubles and asks them to do the same. He takes a chance and this is how the variant gets the upper hand, setting off the branches and then revealing herself as Sylvie.

(Side note: In the concept art for the show, Loki changes into his Asgardian outfit by the time he and Sylvie are on Lementis. I definitely could see that working either when the fight begins/during it, or when he goes through the time door. In either case I think it would be somewhat of a gesture to Sylvie that he is not truly aligned with the TVA, thus setting them both apart/ in opposition to it.)

Instead of romance, Sylvie and Loki forge a bond through seeing themselves in each other throughout the series. They talk about the differences in their past and how they got there. They bicker and make each other laugh and rather than Sylvie just insulting Loki, it’s a mutual rapport. Loki gives just as good as he gets and they find they can work better together than apart.

On Lementis, Loki easily gets them into the train by impersonating a guard (or by conjuring tickets).

They talk about magic. How Sylvie is untrained but self taught and doesn’t understand hers very well. Loki can talk about how he views magic/his magic (we can maybe pull a few things from Norse beliefs about seiðr here). Does he view it as a part of himself? Something honed and precise? I want magic to be portrayed as an artful practice, and I want him to help Sylvie understand hers.

Loki gets drunk and they’re kicked out of the train. This reads as funny because Loki will have been sharp and competent throughout the show so far, so him losing his cool and failing the plan is unexpected.

Instead of the Tempad breaking for absolutely no reason, they argue over where to go/ how to use it. This leads to them both having a hand at accidentally destroying it because of self interest and refusing to work together. It illustrates again that they are stronger together but in conflict they are their own worst enemy (much like Loki in general which ties into a bigger metaphor for all his shortcomings).

Expanding on the magic thing, Sylvie and Loki through the series learn from each other. Loki can teach her some of his magic, and Slyvie can teach him enchantment (which he’s read about but never really mastered, although he approaches learning it like any other spell).

Loki could show her an illusion of Asgard as he remembers it. And in doing so we see that both of them long for it. Because for all Loki has claimed to renounce it, he misses home, and he and the audience see the same thing in Sylvie.

I think it would be interesting for Sylvie to let him enchant her, and we can see one of her memories. Maybe it’s when she was taken, maybe it’s on the run, maybe it’s a happy place, but it gives us insight into her character and past. I’m on the fence if Slyvie should enchant Loki, but if she did I’d pick them accidentally going back to the day Odin took him (which is how we deal with the icy blue elephant in the room that the writers refuse to tackle). Let Loki be conflicted and angry and unsure how he feels about it. This could once again be a moment where Loki and Sylvie connect because it’s (I’m assuming) where both their stories began. It’s a mirror of both of their origins, and she helps him see some good in that.

In the void (which is renamed something else so as to not get confused with the void™ that Loki fell into in Thor 2011) Loki learns from and connects with his other variants. They all have a point to being there, and he starts to reflect on what makes him him and what role he wants to play now.

When Sylvie and Mobius show up they agree on the plan to kill Aliyoth, either because it will stop anyone else from being killed by the TVA, or because they think he is guarding the entrance to whoever is behind everything.

Loki later asks Sylvie if she had a Thor. She did but probably doesn’t remember him much. What she does remember, she tells him. Through talking to both Classic Loki and Sylvie it’s recognized that he does miss his brother, that all Loki’s do, and that they are constants meant to aid each other and fight and suffer but always be brothers in any universe.

When they finally fight Aliyoth Loki summons new armor/his helm. Along with Kid Loki giving him Laevateinn, each Loki also gives him something to remember them or aid in their quest (yay Loki solidarity!). When I say this I mean daggers! Daggers dear gods have one of them give him daggers, boy needs some knives.

When they realize they can’t kill him, Sylvie has the idea to use enchantment. Like in the show, Sylvie can’t do it on her own and so they join hands and combine their powers together, revealing the Citadel beyond. They look at each other and agree that they have to move forward.

“Do we trust each other?”

“We do.”

Inside the Citadel we have Kang himself make the offer to give them what they wish. Sylvie can get the life that was stolen from her. Loki could be offered a Throne, he could be offered to be the first born, or to be a true Æsir, or kill Thanos, but ultimately he denies. He’s realized throughout the show that he’d rather be different, he’d rather be him, and he won’t settle for a fantasy world that isn’t real.

The message is about choice, about free will, chaos. Every choice you make directly results in who you become, every action changes how your story goes, and Loki understands that no one has the right to limit that.

In this it is Sylvie though, who is tempted. She has been on a quest for revenge her whole life, she never had a home, doesn’t remember feeling loved, and in the end it is a fight against temptation, and Loki knows all about that.

They fight each other, and break their vow of trust because ultimately they are each other but they are also different. They clash until Loki is able to talk her down, to relate to her, to show that he “just wants her to be okay” and reaffirms her goal. Kang of course continues to be self assured in his predictions. I’d imagine here is where we could get a declarative sort of speech like “I am Loki, God of Mischief,” They join hands “and no one tells our story” or… something to that affect.

Loki and Sylvie fight to destroy Kang together, and here we discover that if he is killed the multiverse opens, and the war of his variants will begin anew. We see flashbacks of Kang’s past and variants played out, and how he came to be at the citadel. Sylvie can talk about why it’s better to have chaos than to sanitize history and kill in the name of the greater good.

The show ends with the death of Kang and the splintering of the timelines. With Sylvie and Loki looking out the window into the fracturing strands of time.

Other changes and thoughts

Tone: the tone I’d imagine this would take on is possibly a bit more serious than the canon show. While it’s still comedy, it would be much less cartoonish, and generally fit in with the rest of the MCU a little easier.

In relation to Mobius:

Mobius’s crisis of faith would be a long time coming. Throughout the show we see him hesitate more and more to do as the TVA asks, and have an increasingly harder time justifying their actions. Learning that the whole thing is a lie is simply the tipping point that drives him to act.

In his confrontation with Renslayer he’d be a lot more driven/succinct. If he wants the TVA to burn then he wants the TVA to burn. He sees the wrongness in it’s entirety and attempts to convince Renslayer the same thing. When it’s clear that she is unreachable/ still sure of her mission, they come to an impasse. They each threaten to prune the other, parallel and matched on opposite sides of their belief. Ultimately though, neither can go through with it, and (if we’re sticking mostly with the canon ending) she leaves through a time door to who knows when to search for who knows what and Mobius and B15 regroup.

In relation to the other Loki’s:

I’m still on the fence how many Loki’s would be played by Tom, but I think the answer is, if not almost all, then at least more than we got.

Each Loki should read as distinctly Loki in essence. Less comic easter eggs and more focus on understanding the established canon character. Even greater in this scene though is the focus on the theme of choice. If there’s time we could learn what choices led up to each variant being apprehended, and see just a bit of how they feel about it. It’s about how our choices dictate who we become, rather than pre-set paths of completely separate realities and lives to our Loki’s.

I love Classic Loki’s speech about how it’s their destiny to play a certain part and if they try and change it the TVA stops them. I’d like our Loki, while conflicted about if he can truly change, to be motivated to try and finally brake the chains that have always restricted him (first his father, then Thanos, now the TVA). I also think here is where we could talk about how abrupt their end is ‘meant’ to be. That he was working on being better, that he had apparently helped his people and reconciled with his brother. That not only was his life cut short, but that the finality of that conclusion wasn’t truly the only way, but simply decided for him.

In relation to themes:

“What makes a Loki a Loki?” Is a question that should loom in the background of the whole series. Starting with Mobius’s interrogation when he’ll begin questioning his place in the universe and his understanding of himself, and ending with the finale confrontation with Kang where he’ll answer it.

“No one bad is ever truly bad, and no one good is ever truly good.” Is similarly something I think should have been a continued focus. Loki is considered a morally grey character and a chaos god, and thus none of his actions are black and white. Others may try and decide who he is at his core, but fundamentally the conclusion is not about deciding to be a hero, but deciding to be true to yourself and doing better.

“The banality of evil” in relation to the TVA. It’s clear from the first ten minutes of the actual show that the TVA is corrupt, unjust, and unnatural in their cleansing of the multiverse… so lean into it! I’m not necessary talking about changing much here, just that the narrative framing displays their actions as deplorable as they are.

“Glorious Purpose” is um… not something I think needed to be the main focus here. I might be biased because I buy into the theory that “you were made to be ruled” “freedom is life’s greatest lie” and “I am burdened with glorious purpose” are messages that have been somewhat impressed upon him rather than beliefs he came to realize on his own, but I do think it was somewhat oversimplified and overused in the series.

You are the writer of your own story. This is the message I expected the show to end with, and it’s what I’m personally trying to convey through these musings. This story ends with Loki taking back his destiny, forging a new one, connecting with himself and others and helping to free the timelines. He’s not the worst things he’s ever done, he’s not a villain, he’s not a benevolent hero. Loki is just Loki, Sylvie is just Sylvie, and you are just you, whoever we decide to be (that was cheesy I’m sorry).

[fatesdeepdive]

Entry 53: Home Sweet Abusive Home

I unlocked the Conquest version of My Castle at the end of the last chapter. It’s basically the same; there are different building styles, Lilith attacks instead of heals, the shops sell Nohrian weapons instead of Hoshidan ones, etc. I’m going to be ignoring castle stuff this time and instead analyzing classes.

Class Profile - Nohr Prince/Princess

Corrin and Kana’s default class, wields swords and dragon stones. Balanced with good HP and Strength. The class’s first skill, Nobility, boosts EXP gained. The other skill, Dragon Fang, gives a skill stat determined chance to do a special attack that does 1.5 damage. Dragon Fang also has unique animations that have Corrin attacking with dragon arms. Design wise, the black and white stripes are nice but a bit busy. The cape is nice, but the random slits over the princess version’s thighs are dumb.

Class Profile - Hoshido Noble

Nohr Prince/Princess’s promotion in Birthright and an optional promotion in Revelation. Stat wise, it has better Strength, Skill, and Defense than its Nohrian counterpart, as well as the ability to use staves. It’s first ability, Dragon Ward, gives nearby allies a luck based chance to half damage taken. This fits with its more supportive role. On the other hand, its second ability Hoshidan Unity gives a 10% boost to the activation rate of all skills. Design wise, it’s a silver and gold version of Corrin’s normal design with a few details that make it look more Hoshidan. It’s a great design, assuming you ignore the fact that the female version isn’t wearing pants.

Class Profile - Nohr Noble

The Conquest version of Hoshido Noble. Has slightly better Speed, Magic, and Resistance, as well as the ability to use tomes. Its first skill, Draconic Hex, lowers the stats of enemies after combat. The other skill, Nohrian Trust, is really interesting, allowing Corrin to use the battle skills of supporting allies. I love the black coloring with hints of magenta and the tattered cape, but I have to groan at the cleavage and continued lack of pants for female units. Also something I noticed: Nohr Nobles have a shield on their left shoulder, while Hoshidans have a shield on their right shoulder. It’s a nice little detail.

Also, you know how I stole Rinkah and Sakura’s weapons? The damn game gave them back!

Conquest Chapter 7: A Dragon’s Decree

Moron and his Nohrian siblings return to Castle Krakenburg. Garon praises Xander for invading Hoshido. Xander brings up Moron, who Garon apparently can’t see from ten feet away, and Garon is shocked that Moron isn’t dead. Garon yells at Moron for coming home and accuses him of being a spy. Xander insists Moron is loyal and brings up the fight with Ryoma. Iago believes this to be a ruse, which makes sense. He did that shit in Birthright.

Moron asks about the exploding sword. Garon very convincingly pretends to know nothing. Garon uses the fact that Moron is suspicious of the repeated attempts on his life as evidence that Moron is a traitor and orders Xander to execute him. So glad we came back.

Camilla and Elise beg for mercy and Xander refuses to kill his brother. Iago says that makes Xander a traitor, too. Moron says he’ll kill himself to protect Xander. Garon, overjoyed at the idea of suicide, decides to leave it up to Anankos, the dragon god who was mentioned like once in Birthright. Anankos whispers to Garon to spare Moron, if he passes a test. Moron must suppress a rebellion in the ice tribe to prove his loyalty, without any help from his siblings or the Nohrian military. Something about Moron going off alone to enemy territory to prove his loyalty feels oddly familiar...hope this isn’t secretly a ploy to kill Moron again.

Xander says that taking out an entire army singlehandedly is impossible. Moron agrees to the mission. After Moron leaves, Garon monologues about how Moron is going to lose all hope and wish for death. Real glad we chose to side with Nohr, this truly was the right decision.

Xander, hearing Garon say evil shit out loud, does not decide to stop working for Garon. He says he knows what he has to do, but spoiler alert, it isn’t overthrow his evil father.

Moron goes through the woods of the Forlorn, where you fight Leo in Birthright, with only Lilith accompanying him. Faceless show up and attack, surrounding Moron. Felicia shows up and takes one out with a dagger. Moron points out that he had to destroy Felicia’s friends and family without help, but shrugs it off because they aren’t technically at the Ice Village yet.

This battle is actually pretty good, taking on a ton of enemies with only two units. At the start of turn three, Silas and Elise show up to rescue Corrin. At the start of turn four, Elise’s retainers Arthur and Effie join them. Arthur mentions that he’s late because a bird stole his map and Effie’s late because her armor made her sink into the swamp. Elise mentions that Xander planned out this rescue behind Garon’s back.

Arthur

Arthur is Talitu's rude Wind Mage son...wait, wrong Arthur. Arthur is a Monk who...okay, once more time. Arthur is Elise’s unlucky but heroic Fighter retainer. I love Arthur as a character, this boisterous, cheesy, superhero fighting for justice. His design has this massive lantern jaw and he wears a superhero costume with a cape. His personal skill, Misfortune, makes critical hits more likely on both him and his enemies. This is fitting for the running gag of him being supernaturally unlucky, something reflected in gameplay by him having an abysmal luck stat.

Effie

Elise’s other retainer, a Knight. She seems to be a protective warrior. Honestly, I didn’t pick up too much about her personality because I was distracted by her utterly monstrous strength star. Effie is buff. Her personal skill, Puissance, pairs well with this by boosting her damage if she’s far stronger than an enemy. Personally, I’m not too fond of Effie’s design. Her face feels to girly and looks like she’s wearing make-up, which doesn’t match her personality. The big shoulder pads look weird and the boob plate is eye-roll inducing. At least it’s better than her Heroes design, which is atrocious.

After battle, Felicia volunteers to lead us to her village. The camera pans over to reveal Iago was responsible for the faceless attack. Because he’s an evil asshole who I hate.

Also I grabbed Mozu between chapters.

Support: Corrin/Elise

C: Corrin stumbles upon Elise practicing punching in a field. Elise insists she's just picking flowers because she's sweet. Eventually, Elise admits that she's training so she won't be a burden to the army.

B: Corrin trains Elise to grow stronger. Elise struggles to do push-ups.

A: Elise sobs about being pathetic. Corrin insists that war isn't about fighting, it's about having a pure desire for peace. The amount of people Corrin kills contradicts this.

S: Corrin gives Elise flowers to propose to her. I vomit.

Review: Setting aside the incestuous pedophilia that ends this one, not bad. I think Elise works more than Sakura because at least she’s entertaining when complaining about being a burden.

Support: Arthur/Felicia

C: Felicia tells Arthur she's a bad maid because she's incompetent and clumsy. Arthur relates.

B: Arthur explains that the best way to deal with problems is to be carefree. As he walks, he almost slips on a banana peel (despite the army not storing bananas) and is swarmed by mosquitos (which don't exist in this region).

A: Arthur tells a story of a time he tried to save a drowning person, hit his head, and almost drowned. The person he tried to save was helped by someone else. Arthur explains that he and Felicia shouldn't worry about mishaps.

S: Arthur asks Felicia to meet with him so he can propose. They fall in a pit, Setsuna style, and Felicia accidentally freezes Arthur's fingers so he can't get the ring out of his pocket.

Review: Paring up these absolute messes of people is hilarious.

Support: Mozu/Silas

C: Mozu asks Silas if she should just leave the army and go back home (to the corpse filled ruins of her village I guess) because she isn't very strong. Silas volunteers to train her to be stronger.

B: Mozu says Silas shouldn't waste time training her. Silas tells her her "I'm too weak to be good" mindset is holding her back and that her wasting her potential is a sin against her murdered parents. Goddamn.

A: Mozu, believing she has potential, improves. Silas says he wasn't talented as a kid and only became a good knight because he never gave up. Mozu promises to cook for him.

S: Silas proposes so he can have pie every day. Mozu fantasizes about killing people with S-Rank pair up bonuses.

Review: Not bad, but needed a certain spark to be great. Silas telling Mozu that attitude is everything is interesting, but it kinda falls off towards the end.

Support: Effie/Jakob

C: Jakob bakes a cake for Corrin. Effie eats it. Jakob tries to physically stop her but she shrugs off everything he throws at her.

B: Effie works out by lifting water barrels and tells Jakob that she needs to be strong so she can protect her friends, even if it costs her her own life. Jakob says he doesn't want her to die for him because he'd have to spend the rest of his life feeling guilty. Ugh!

A: Effie says that she can't not protect him because they're friends. Jakob says that's fine, just don't die in the process.

S: Jakob bakes a cake with protein powder instead of flour to propose to Effie. Effie says she isn't going to marry him for his baking skills, but for his good heart.

Review: Pretty good. Effie is amusing throughout this Support and the discussion of dying for friends is nice.

[fallenrepublick]

hello! I’m here with a question about your little Ess’tha. Would this little one request she get markings like her brother and Father?

The question coming up as she traces the marks on Maul’s cheek and wonders if she can have ones like his?

Ohhh that's a good question!!!! So, I've heard that the tattoos are essentially darkened versions of markings that appear on their skin naturally. I'm not sure if this is true, but I very much like the idea, so I accept that as truth most of the time.

Now, these thoughts didn't come up until much later. The fact is, she never fully processed that she wasn't quite like Maul and Vicious until it was mentioned by others outside the family. Even in small ways, such as the many times where she would get cut off from them in crowds, led her to finally seeing the differences, and wondering what she could do to be more like them.

It isn't that she doesn't want to look like Thrawn, it's that she wants to look like both her parents, that other children have this, why can't she? And yes, you're right, she does sit with Maul often, sometimes when they're all on the couch, and her little lips are pursed in thought as she runs her hand along Maul's arm, looking down at herself.

"Can I have some?" she asks. Thrawn turns to look, as Maul stares at her quizzically. It's a discussion they've had before about her.

"Have... what?" he asks finally. He knows the answer, of course, but he must hear the desire for himself.

She pats his arm lightly, ruby eyes glittering as she stares. Her brother didn't have such strong desires, this feeling of being left without a connection, she can't understand why. "Your marks. Vicious has them, but I don't. People don't think we're family, and I hate it. It wasn't like this on Csilla, even if you were brought into a different family, we all had the same traits. But I don't look like you, so people think I don't belong."

Now, Maul's gaze lifts to meet Thrawn's silent communication passing between the looks they exchange, a silent urge to Maul to explain what they themselves already know. He looks back down at the girl, her expression now angry, remembering all of what had been said to her, about her, what dismissive ways she had been passed by when not at Thrawn's side. Had Maul not constantly been aware of her distance out of sheer anxiety of losing her, she may have been swallowed by the crowds forever.

"What everyone else sees is not what makes you my child," he urges, leaning closer to ensure she saw him just as well as she heard. "You learn much from me, just as I have from you. Our connection through the Force is one that is stronger than any blood or appearances may create, and giving you these marks will not strengthen what we already have, as such a thing is impossible. I would reason, even, that we are closer than many other families."

"How do you know that?" she asks, still lowly, as if challenging him to admit he doesn't.

"I know this, because you chose us, just as we chose you." Maul smiles ever so slightly, and Thrawn looks on as she considers this, knowing it to be true. He watches as Maul reassures her so easily, so warmly, and he smiles just the same. "The connections you have to me, to your brother, your father, they were built by choice, each deliberate stone of a pathway placed with the intention to grow what we have now. Are you saying you feel this less than you would if you had markings, or horns, or if we instead look as you do?"

She looks down, near shame taking hold of her mind. "No," she says firmly, "No, I wouldn't feel any different. I'm sorry, I just... I wanted to show that I'm like you, so that everyone would know."

"I'm sure," Thrawn says finally, stepping from his silence, "There may be something small you may have, if a symbol is what you seek."

That much, Ess'tha agreed to wholeheartedly. And at the next opportunity, the child receives a dark band around her wrist, styled simply like a bracelet, and in turn, as does Thrawn. Though she knows such appearances do little to change who her true family is, there's a certain comfort in the mark, a knowledge that they all are there, matching her, connected to her not only by the Force, but through ink as well.

[moons-and-stars-and-shit]

Good morning, afternoon or night to you! May I request a matchup please?

My name is Ximena, I am an upperclassman in highschool. Pronouns are she/her. I am Mexican-American, fluent in Spanish and English. I am the oldest of my siblings. My zodiac is a Pisces. am 5,2 with an inverted triangle body shape. I'm pale, with natural rosy cheeks. People say I have doe eyes, dark brown. Hair color is the same color and it goes down a few centimeters off the shoulders, but I usually wear it in a ponytail. I am toned, not like a fitness influencer lol.

I am an INFJ. Socializing makes me pretty nervous, but I'll do it if I have to work on a school project or my friends are uncomfortable speaking. I am the "mom" friend of the group, always reminding them to do their work and to take care of themselves. People say I'm sweet and kind for helping them. I do my best to be open-minded and provide realistic advice. My humor is word play, puns and sarcasm. I am a perfectionist, I try my best in everything. I am pretty insecure of myself, very worried about the future and what others think of me. I get irritated if things don't go as planned.

I am dancer, I love every aspect of it. My favorite style would be ballet and my dream would be going professional. I like to read, my favorite genres being fantasy or adventure. In general, I like being active so I enjoy playing sports, mostly tennis though. I like hiking with my dog and nature in general. I treasure deep conversations with my loved ones. I dislike people who are ignorant (any kind of oppression towards minorities), or who complain about work yet they procrastinate. I would rather not publicly speak and despise anything unhygienic. I hate feeling useless or having no motivation.

I hope I didn't overwhelm you with this request. I really enjoy your writing, it's the first blog that caught my eye! Also your layout is lovely and soothing. I hope you are having a great day/night and are doing well 🥰

@magicaldancer5678

A/N- Another matchup that took 500 years to come out 🥲. I’m sorry this took so long! Enjoy ❤️

Asahi Azumane

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐘𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞𝐭

oooookkkaaayyyy

So you and Asahi shared some classes together

and you and him got partnered for a project

This kinda made you two HAVE to spend time together and get to know each other

every day you would go over to his house to work on the project

and then you would just hang out with him as friends for a bit before you went home

And when the time came to present your project

Asahi was very impressed with how you could take the lead in the presentation

he just knew that you could be a little shy at times

so he was NOT expecting you to just go up there and present so confidently

but he was a little relieved cuz he do be a shy boi 444

and even after you, two didn't have to work with each other anymore

you both found yourselves hanging out with each other

you and Asahi ended up building a very strong friendship in the time you two spent together

And after some time Asahi started to realize that he had feelings for you

Luckily for him, there was a perfect opportunity to confess to you...

Your upcoming ballet concert

He always showed up to all of your performances

as all good supportive friend should

But he was going to make this one VERY special

He went all out

After your performance (which you rocked by the way)

He gave you a GIANT bouquet of flowers along with a cute little plushy

And he asked you if you would be interested in going on a date with him

oml he just about fainted when you said yes

Ya'll have been a happy couple ever since then

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮

He loves low you look out for him

Now Asahi is very good at taking care of himself

But we all have our days

And when he has his little off days your always there to take care of him

Whether that be reminding him to drink water or to eat food

Or it be making him take "mental health days"

And since you do all this for him

He makes sure to do his best to take care of you as well :)

He also loves the advice you are able to give him

He doesn't really like to bother anyone with his problems

So it took him a while to start asking you for help with anything

But now whenever he finds himself in a sticky situation

He comes to you for advice

And you always seem to have the perfect solution for him

So he's very grateful for that

And just a quick cheesy one real quick

He loves your eyes

He thinks you can truly see all of your emotions through them

And the way they sparkle in the sun just makes him go 444

𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐃𝐨 𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

He loves to read with you

Idk I just got a feeling that he's a really big reader

So just cuddling with you and reading you a book

Bam heaven on earth right there

Omg he LOVES LOVES LOVES to go on hikes with you

Or just walks

He also really likes nature so hiking is super fun for him

Especially if it's with you 444

Finally

You have been trying to teach him Spanish lately

So he really likes spending time with you while learning a new language

And he thinks it's cool that you guys have almost a secret language

Cause not a lot of people at Karasano can speak Spanish

𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐜

If your wondering you guys got an A on that project

He loves your dog 444

He'll always ask if your dog can come on hikes or walks with you two

Once he learns a little Spanish his new pet name for you is Mi Amor

He's tried playing tennis with you

But he just could not hit the damn ball

He blames it on the ball being too small

He supports your dream about becoming a professional dancer 100%

The entire team always says you too suit each other

𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲

When Capricorn and Pisces join together in a love match, on the surface, it may appear to be opposites attracting.

Capricorn is down-to-earth and regimented, with a very strong work ethic

while Pisces tends to be more emotional and dreamy, and takes on the needs of those around them.

This couple is honest, and can be devoted to one another.

They admire one another

Capricorn appreciates Pisces’s kind nature, and Pisces is drawn in by Capricorn’s quick wit and tenacity.

This relationship may develop slowly, the two not necessarily recognizing its progression.

But it will get stronger over time.

The Capricorn-Pisces duo can really put their heads together and can be fulfilled by their partner.

Difficulties can arise if Capricorn is too dominating for Pisces’s sensitive side.

Pisces needs to understand that this is Capricorn’s style and not a personal attack.

Pisces might not take too well to Capricorn’s stubbornness, but can deal with it through patience and understanding.

Pisces enjoys indulging Capricorn through their desire for domestic bliss, which combines well with Capricorn’s need for a neat, tidy home and material goods.

It’s their unique blend of temperaments.

Both partners enjoy sharing their lives with someone else, and both like to help the other achieve their goals.

Their difference in temperaments makes theirs a highly compatible relationship.

𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐀𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜

Aphrodite 💖

[black-streak]

Little Pistols - The Killing Type

Chapter 5

First Previous Next

So more from Tim here. A look into how dark he's gotten, if you will. I promise, this is showing more the extremes of how far he's willing to go. Not how he is on the day to day. But, I digress. Mari will be the next chapter.

Btw, to anyone I haven't replied to on comments, I see you! I appreciate you very much, I've just lost track (and time) please know I still am very grateful to for your thoughts and support!

LP Taglist

@zalladane @moonlightstar64 @amayakans @elmokingkong @queen-in-a-flower-crown @karategirl119 @dreamykitty25 @danielslilangel @melicmusicmagic @xahriia @sassakitty @yin-390 @zotinha456 @indecisive-mess-named-me @heldtogetherbysafetypins @theatreandcomicfreak @alexandriamw @messymessyml @bubblegumpinup

Permanent list

@naoryllis @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @my-name-is-michell @maribat-is-lifeblood @dast218 @novicevoice @shizukiryuu @princess-of-fangirls @bigpicklebananatree @pirats-pizzacanninibles @abrx2002 @breemeister @darkthunder1589 @thestressmademedoit @severelyenchantedwonderland @isabellemasen @multi-fandom-freak0221 @fantasyloversblog @bzz75 @cloudiedraws @jardimazul @orbitsvt @gingerdaile @sotheresthatthought @kadmeread @novaloptr @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @crazylittlemunchkin @18-fandoms-unite-08 @tiny-goddess-of-chaos @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @the-alice-of-hearts @vixen-uchiha

~---~

The first time Tim tried his newest method of fighting crime, he felt exhilarated. Freed. Able to breathe freely and know he made an actual difference. Felt justified and right. Coming home to someone who wouldn't condemn him for it only made it better.

"How're you holding up, babybird?" Jason idly inquired as the other slid through the front door and started to kick off his shoes and shrug off a jacket.

"Fine. Better than fine, really. I think I understand  now, what you meant before."

"Plan on elaborating, Timmers?" Jason quirked a brow, hands stilling on a book page, mid-turn.

"Sometimes, just scaring people isn't enough. Sometimes striking fear of repercussions or enforcing them won't stop bad people from doing bad things."

"Yeah?" He glanced up, watching Tim as he engaged the security system and picked his way over towards the armchair perpendicular to Jason where his laptop waited.

"Mm. Every now and then, some of these people need to be taken out of commision entirely. I understand that now."

"Tim, you trying to tell me you're killing now?"

He felt how Jason's look turned sceptical, but appraising.

"Yeah, total murder bunny now, wanna see my collection of decapitated heads? I got a new duffle bag to match yours" He drew out, gaze flat.

"Fuck off," Jay shook his head, mumbling to himself, "Should've known you'd never let that go," then raised his voice back again, "Okay, so if not taking them out of their rotten misery, how have you magically cured them, oh perfect one."

A vindictive little smirk lit the side of his mouth as he turned on his laptop, eyes cutting to his companion with a calculating look, "You of all people know how few of our asylum patients are actually mentally ill in a way that would justify their actions."

"Still say the insanity plea should only stand for recently mind controlled or Lazarus dipped, the poor bastards. Mental Disabilities don't equate violent people. It's such a fucking rude stigma to paint on people who actually have them. Add on that the regular patients are sharing space with actual criminals and of course no one willingly admits themselves, so the people who need the help aren't getting any. Also, if you are going to allow the plea for so many of them, then fund these damn places properly to help them, not just hold them captive until they get bored and escape," Jason went off, book forgone in preference for one of his more impassioned rants.

Tim indulged him for the moment, agreeing but having already heard twenty variations of the same speech, before cutting in towards the end, "Yes well, I figure if they're going to receive the charge anyways, I might as well help them make it more believable, right? So why not give them that little push."

That really caught the other's attention, drawing him in to properly lean over the space between them, elbows propped on knees and fingers laced in the space between as he watched Tim with a curious smile, "What'd you get up to, little bird?"

Clicking through the encrypted files he'd transferred over just tonight, he pulled up a video feed. Inside, bodies were attacking each other, another curled up in the corner, one banging its head against a wall away from the others. They weren't easily distinguishable from one another in their state. Tim felt Jason lean to the side to peak at the screen, brows rising as a whistle left his lips.

"They killed your friend, right?" He grimaced after the words but didn't apologize, for which Tim was grateful.

"Yeah. The flash rogues."

"Why are they..?"

"Psychological torture. They're afraid to leave the room, even though it's unlocked. They're afraid of each other. Of the world. What they do now is up to them. Leave the room and live on paralyzed by fear or stay there and tear themselves apart. I won't kill people. I don't have it in me. But their actions are their own. What do you think?"

Jason's eyes were kind of wide and off guard as he stared at him, "I think you might be the fucked up one here, Tim. Not to say I don't get it, but shit, that's just brutal."

"Eh, killing them seems to lack in proper punishment. It's just getting rid of the problem without making them face the consequences. No need to make a deal of it anyways, not like I put them through anything we haven't survived ourselves."

That got a bark of laughter as Jason relaxed back into the couch, reopening the book. Hm. Through the Looking Glass today. "Well in that case, if they can't handle it like we can, that's their problem," Tim grinned at his conclusion, "glad you found your own way of working. It's about damn time you decided your own morals."

Silence fell over the room, "Jay, did you forget it was your turn to make dinner?"

"... No?"

…

Okay, so it hadn't always been this way. They started off kilter and unsure and lost. Tim, an absolute mess in his grief and lack of direction, Jason freshly returned to Gotham again and wanting to help, but not knowing how with the distance between them.

He knew Jason had offered a position to him in the past, but that'd been within the violence and cruelty. With the pits still lingering and the desire to take him away from Bruce. He knew Jason saw him as an asset to his own agenda then, strictly professional. Now though, it came with personal attachments, shared space, a camaraderie that couldn't be forced. They were both replaced. Both seen as not good enough, outcasts of the family. Both broken in their own ways.

It was like chewing on shattered glass, trying to find footing around each other. 

Jay brought him back to a lesser safe house, had let him stay there. Help gather intel on his cases, play his own personal Oracle at times. The first time Tim watched the Red Hood kill from the helmet's camera, he nearly threw up.

He let him teach Tim how to shoot, the ins and outs of every gun the man had on hand. Learned exactly what each was capable of. Unfortunately for Hood, he wasn't capable of wielding them against anyone. Not really.

It took months before Red Hood tried to bring him out into the nightlife, partly due to his own hesitance to chance a run in with the new Batman and Robin. But he let himself be led out anyways. A small patrol of the Bowery and down into Crime Alley then back. When all went smoothly, Tim felt himself relax into the new routine. By the third outing, he officially took up his new title. Red Robin.

However, Tim still hadn't broke out of the moral code ingrained into him for so long.

It took really stopping, really taking the time to watch Hood as he interacted with the girls on the corner or the kids that hid in the night, just as he once had, to fully understand what motivated his partner. It took the reminder of his own loss to determine his need for a stronger method.

It was sheer dumb luck that he decided this before having tracked down the flash rogues. That it was perfectly timed for him to experiment on people he wouldn't regret ruining. That upon telling Jason that he needed to disappear for a little while, the other had agreed readily, with no argument nor lecture. Like true equals. 

…

It took longer to perfect his style. How much to hold back or not depending on who they were up against. If Jason chose to kill them, he didn't stand in the way unless it was uncalled for. But if Jason chose not to, Tim decided how far they went with each rogue they encountered. They had a system and it worked. They worked. When the two of them hit the darkened world before them, they painted it with Red and Red and the true scum of the city learned a new type of fear.

[emospritelet]

Twisted Fate - chapter 21

@crystalwhitepeacock prompted: 62: “you want me to go so hard you forget your fucking name?”

This prompt was sent when I was first writing this fic, and they weren’t exactly in the sort of place I could use it up until now XD

Anyway, it’s been ages, I know. Last time, Belle and Gold had started a tentative and awkward reconciliation, and Belle decided to take matters into her own hands. No mean feat when your arm is broken

[AO3]

x

Belle hesitated only momentarily outside Gold’s bedroom door, then knocked briskly, entering as soon as she heard his voice. The room was in darkness, but she could see him push himself up on the heels of his hands, moonlight highlighting his features and catching in the short strands of his hair.

“Belle,” he said. “What is it, are you unwell?”

“No,” she said shortly.

She began to pace, trying to organise her thoughts, trying to think of a way to express what she was feeling.

“Is it the baby?” he asked. “Do you want me to call the hospital?”

“No, the baby’s fine,” she said impatiently. “It’s not me, it’s - it’s us.”

“Right,” he said, sounding perplexed. “Right. Well...”

She turned abruptly on her toes to face him.

“I think we should have sex,” she said bluntly, nodding.

“What?”

He was staring at her, and she strode over to the bed, watching him lean back on the heels of his hands a little.

“I’m serious,” she said. “We should have sex. I think we need to.”

Gold heaved a breath, and she watched his chest rise and fall, nipples tenting the front of his T-shirt. She licked her lips.

“And you don’t think that’ll just complicate things, then?” he said, pulling her eyes up to his face.

“No,” she said. “I think it’ll make things really simple. Things are already complicated, and frankly I’m tired of the two of us stepping around each other and holding back because we’re - because we’re scared.”

He was silent, watching her, and she went on.

“I know we have a lot to work through, I get that,” she said. “But I love you, and - and I know you love me, and I think we should have sex.”

She nodded firmly, to emphasise the point, and Gold’s mouth twitched.

“Right,” he said. “Uh - now?”

“Yes. Is that okay?”

There was a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“I’ll gird my loins, shall I?”

“Alex…”

“Okay, I’m teasing,” he said gently. “I’m sorry.”

She strode over, dropping onto the edge of the bed with a sigh. Thunder rumbled in the sky outside, the rain pattering against the windows. Gold’s eyes were dark and deep, his features picked out with shades of blue, and he lifted a hand to cup her cheek, his palm warm and smooth. She leaned into his touch a little, feeling his thumb stroke her cheek.

“You - you do want to, right?” she asked anxiously. “Don’t think you can’t say no, because you absolutely can.”

“I know that.”

“I mean I know I look very different to when we first met,” she went on, “and maybe a human bowling ball isn’t your thing.”

Gold grinned, his eyes crinkling.

“You’re beautiful,” he said sincerely. “You’re a goddess, Belle. It just - well, it might mean the positions we can try are somewhat limited, that’s all.”

“Hmm.” She eyed him, pursing her lips. “I guess that means you won’t be on top. Think you can handle it?”

His grin widened.

“I’ll cope.”

“You say that now,” she said, pouting a little. “I think we both know you prefer to be the dominant one, or is my memory playing tricks on me?”

Gold slid his hands to her hips, tugging her a little closer.

“Then maybe it’s time you took charge, hmm?” 

His voice had deepened, grown rougher, and she felt her belly clench.

“Okay, you asked for it,” she said, and leaned in to press her forehead against his, curling her lip. “You want me to go so hard you forget your fucking name?”

Gold stared at her for a moment before he burst out laughing, and Belle joined in.

“Okay, so maybe that’s not my style,” she admitted.

“It’s a bit like being threatened by a kitten,” he agreed, and she slapped his arm playfully, making him chuckle again.

“I like seeing you laugh,” she said, and reached up to run her fingertips through his hair. “I like this. Being together, having fun. Like - like a regular couple.”

His mouth twisted into a smirk as his hands slid up to her shoulders.

“Is that what we are?” he asked. “Most irregular, I should think.”

“That a problem?” she asked, raising a brow, and his smile widened, teeth gleaming in the moonlight as his hands framed her face.

“No no, it’s wonderful,” he whispered. “It’s perfect.”

He kissed her gently, soft mouth pulling at hers, and Belle let her nose nuzzle his as their lips parted. 

“Do you remember the last time we were at the cabin?” she asked, and his eyes softened.

“I thought about that a lot after you left,” he said quietly. “It was, in some ways, the best night of my life. And the worst.”

Her hand lifted, stroking along his cheek and brushing against the soft strands of his hair.

“Was it then?” she asked. “When you decided to end it?”

His thumb stopped its rhythmic stroking momentarily before starting again.

“Yes,” he breathed.

“I told you I loved you,” she whispered, and he sighed, leaning forward a little to rest his brow against hers.

“I should have told you the same,” he said. “I’m sorry, Belle. I’m sorry I caused us to - to lose so much.”

Her hand slid across the nape of his neck as she breathed in the scent of him. The closeness of him was making her heart thump, and she wanted him to kiss her again. His other hand reached up, cradling her face, fingers pushing into her hair, making a shiver of pleasure run through her. Lightning flashed outside the windows, and Belle licked her lips.

“We can build something better,” she said. “We can build something stronger.”

“Yeah.” His voice was rough, ragged. “I want to, Belle, I promise you. I want to give you everything.”

She brushed her nose against his, a gesture of affection. His breathing had quickened, grown hard and heavy to match her own.

“Give me you,” she breathed. “All of it. Everything.”

His hands tightened a little, tilting her face upwards. She could feel his breath against her lips, hot and unsteady, and he tilted his head a little, lips brushing against hers. Belle opened her mouth with a faint moan, returning the kiss, feeling the moist heat of his mouth. Gold inhaled deeply, his tongue gently pushing in between her lips, and she moaned again, tasting him on her tongue, feeling him inside her once more. Her hand dropped to his shoulders, sliding down over his chest as she shifted closer, and he deepened the kiss, twisting strands of her hair around his fingers, his touch making her shiver.

She broke the kiss, noting the way his mouth chased hers, as though he didn’t want to stop touching her. Leaning back a little, she plucked at the hem of her nightdress with her left hand.

“Take it off,” she said. “And get your clothes off, too. I can’t undress you with a busted arm.”

Gold’s mouth twitched, but he nodded, grasping his T-shirt and pulling it off over his head. She watched as his body stretched taut, nipples dark against the paler skin of his chest, his ribs casting shadows before he straightened and his belly softened again. Her lips were tingling, her skin humming, and she wanted his kiss, his touch. She could see that he was hard, his cock pushing up against the loose pants he wore, and her abdomen clenched, her desire surging. She placed her free hand on his chest, feeling the heat of him, the peak of his nipple pressing against her palm. The hand slid down, stroking over his waist, finger sliding along the waistband before brushing over the bulge where his cock pushed upwards. Gold let out a shuddering groan, and she bit back a satisfied smile.

“Take them off,” she whispered.

He slipped off the pants, twisting sideways on the bed to push them down his thighs and let them fall before drawing up his knees  again. Belle watched hungrily, noting the way light and shadow played across his slender limbs and carved out mounds and hollows in his torso. She had shifted to face him a little more, and Gold leaned forward a little, hands sliding up her thighs and pushing the nightdress up to her hips. Belle lifted her free arm, letting him slide his hands up her body. Getting her arm in its cast through the shoulder straps was awkward, but he managed it, and tossed the nightdress to the side, settling back with a sigh as his eyes swept over her. She felt a little self-conscious, knowing how her body had changed with pregnancy, but he was gazing at her with reverence in his eyes, a tiny smile curving the corners of his mouth.

“Beautiful,” he whispered. “So beautiful.”

She felt her own smile grow in response, and he drew back the blankets, the warmth of the bed rushing out to wrap around her. Belle leaned forward to kiss him, and he lifted his hands to cup her cheeks, his lips brushing against hers, his tongue sliding into her mouth. She moaned a little, shifting closer, her free hand sliding up his thigh and feeling the heat of his skin. Gold pushed her hair back over her shoulders, baring her neck before pulling his mouth from hers and kissing down her throat. The feel of his lips sent shivers through her, and she gasped as he kissed lower, lips trailing over her breast, tongue circling her nipple.

Belle let her head roll back with a moan of pleasure, the pull of his lips and tongue sending jolts of sensation through her body. He kissed across to her other breast, and she let her fingers trail up his side, running over his shoulder and stroking through his hair. A tiny growl came from him, and she felt her abdomen clench in arousal. Gold kissed upwards, lips brushing her neck before finding her mouth, fingers pushing into her hair. She realised how much she had missed his kisses, his taste, his heat. The intimacy, the closeness of it. She shifted nearer, round belly rubbing against him, and Gold broke the kiss, breathing hard as he pressed his brow to hers, his scent drifting into her nose.

He moved over in the bed, lying on his side and pulling her with him, and Belle laid her hot cheek against the cool of the pillow as he spooned up around her, one hand sliding over her hip. His chest was hot against her back, and she shivered as he kissed the nape of her neck, his lips brushing against her earlobe.

“I’ve missed you, Belle,” he whispered, and she nodded.

“I’ve missed you, too.”

Another kiss against her neck, and his hand slipped lower, stroking against smooth skin at the crease of her hip, sliding down between her legs. Belle sucked in a breath as he brushed against tender skin, gently stroking, and Gold let out a rumbling groan as he released slippery fluid. His finger pushed down, slipping between the folds of flesh and grazing her clit, and Belle let out a tiny cry, arching her back, pushing her rear against him. She could feel the hardness of him, pressed against her buttock, and she longed to have him inside her, to feel the thick heat of him. Gold stroked her, tongue tracing the length of her shoulder as his fingers pushed and slid, the wave of bliss building within her.

“Please!” she whispered.

He grasped her thigh, pulling it upwards, draping her leg over his so he could press up against her. She sucked in a breath as he took himself in hand, the head of his cock pressing against tender flesh. He bit down into the nape of her neck, making her let out a cry of pleasure, and gently pushed into her. Belle moaned, feeling him fill her, pushing back against him, and his hand grasped her hip, holding her in place as he slid all the way inside her. A low, rumbling groan came from him, and his hand slipped between her legs again, fingers stroking through wet flesh, brushing against her clit.

Belle whimpered, pressing her rear against him, and he began to move with slow, steady thrusts of his hips, his cock sliding in and out of her, hard and thick. He gasped, his breath hot against her neck, his nose nuzzling her ear, his finger sliding and stabbing between soft folds, and Belle closed her eyes, her breath coming hard, pleasure building inside her. He was moving slowly, deliberately, pulling out almost all the way before sliding back in, and she could feel heat building, perspiration beginning to form on her upper lip as her cheeks flushed.

She came with a cry, stars bursting in her head, hips jerking as she pushed into his hand, and he groaned, thrusting inside her, his finger circling her clit and sending bursts of sensation rippling through her body. She could feel her pulse throbbing hard, her cheeks burning with the heat of pleasure, her skin humming. She tried to catch her breath, her heart pounding, and his hand moved to her hip as he continued to thrust. Belle licked her lips, leaning back against him.

“On your back,” she whispered.

He pulled out of her, rolling away, and she shifted in the bed, pushing back the covers and turning to straddle him. Gold gazed up at her with a wide-eyed look of awe on his face, and she reached between them, his cock hot and sticky in her hand. She lined them up, rubbing the head of him against her soft flesh, and he let his head roll back with a deep groan as she sank down onto him. His hands slid up her thighs, and he raised his head, a tiny smile curving his lips.

“God, you look beautiful,” he breathed. “So perfect, Belle.”

She smiled, bracing herself on his belly with the splayed fingers of her free hand. Moonlight shone on his chest, his skin tinted pale blue, his nipples dark and hard. She began to move, hips circling as she ground against him, and Gold groaned, head falling back against the pillows and exposing his throat. Belle could feel the pleasure rising up inside her once more, sensations building from the friction formed by their heat and sweat and her own juices. It felt good to have him inside her, to have him gazing up at her with love in his eyes, to be his once more. She quickened her pace a little, moaning as his cock filled her, her flesh tugging at its rigid length with every rolling thrust of her hips.

“Fuck, Belle!”

His voice was a strangled gasp, his body arching upwards as he tried to get deeper inside her, muscles taut and straining and his fingers digging dents in her thighs as he gripped her. Belle moved faster, thrusts rapid and shallow, pulling at him, pumping him as she chased her orgasm. She could feel him stiffening beneath her, and she knew he was close. She closed her eyes, breath coming in pants, feeling the bliss rise up inside her.

“Oh God, Belle!” he gasped. “I have to come, I can’t hold it! Please!”

She nodded roughly, bucking her hips, and let out a whimpering cry as she came, a wave of pleasure washing over her. Gold let out his own broken, snarling groan, and she felt him pulse deep inside her, his cock pumping, a wave of heat spreading through her. Belle moaned and writhed, pulling every drop from him, feeling the heavy thump of her heart and the hard length of him inside her. The softness of the sheets beneath her knees. The rough grip of his hands on her thighs. His movements slowed and stopped, and she matched his pace, letting her head drop.

Belle could feel his belly rise and fall beneath her hand as he gulped the air, his breathing ragged, and Gold settled into the mattress with a heavy sigh, his muscles growing loose as he began to soften inside her. She heaved a breath, pushing up off him and rolling onto her back beside him, and he turned to throw an arm around her, still catching his breath, the hand stroking over the curve of her belly. He leaned in to press a tender kiss to where their child was growing before nestling by her side, his nose brushing her shoulder.

“I love you,” he whispered, and Belle smiled.

“I love you, too.”

There was silence, but it was a warm, contented silence. Lightning flashed, bathing the room in brightness before winking out, and a moment later came the sound of thunder, a low, heavy rumbling. Belle felt her breathing steady, her skin still tingling from her climax, and Gold brushed a finger over her belly, drawing a looping pattern on her skin, tapered petals of flowers linked by trailing stems.

“What is it that you want?” he asked. “For us, I mean? Whatever it is, I’ll try to give you it, Belle.”

She shifted, turning onto her side to face him. He was watching her, his dark eyes somewhat anxious, moonlight catching the tips of his short hair.

“I want us to make a proper family,” she said. “You, me and the baby. I don’t want to sign that bloody agreement your lawyers drew up, okay? I don’t want to sign it because I don’t want it to be necessary. I want us to be together and happy or - or at least working towards being happy.”

He smiled, his expression lightening with what looked like relief.

“That’s what I want, too.” he said. “I want this child to have what I didn’t. I want to be a good father, Belle, I swear it.”

She smiled and cupped his cheek, her thumb stroking against his skin with a rasp of stubble.

“I know,” she said softly. “I believe you. I think - no, I know - I know you’ll be a good father, Alex. And you’ll be a good man, too. I know that.”

His smile twisted a little, as though he doubted it.

“You have a lot of faith.”

“Yes,” she said stoutly. “And I’m right. You’ll see.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, a soft sigh tickling her mouth.

“I’ll certainly try my best to be the man you deserve,” he said quietly.

“Trying your best is all anyone can ask,” she said, and he let out a low chuckle.

“You’re too generous to me.”

“No, I’m not,” she said firmly. “Supporting someone as they try to be better and knowing that they won’t always get it right: that isn’t generous. It’s basic human decency.”

Gold was silent, and she wanted to sigh.

“I want you to know that you can always talk to me,” she added. “If you’re worried about something, or - or if you want to tell me anything that’s causing you pain, you can. Anything at all.”

“The talking does seem to be beneficial,” he agreed, and she hummed in agreement.

“Well, it led to some pretty stellar orgasms, so yeah.”

Gold chuckled, nuzzling her nose with his, and there was silence again. Belle slipped her hand around his waist, fingertips dancing over his cooling skin. He reached up, brushing curls of hair back from her shoulder.

“You asked about my family,” he said, somewhat hesitantly.

Belle felt a surge of interest. Is he going to open up a little more? Does he trust me enough? She tried to keep her expression bland, hoping it would encourage him to speak.

“I did,” she said simply.

His fingers were still stroking her hair, hooking under the curls and placing each one carefully behind her shoulder, as though neatening her appearance was the most important thing in the world.

“My mother died of cancer,” he said, not quite looking at her. “I told you that, of course.”

“Yes.”

More silence. He seemed to be thinking carefully, and she waited for him to speak.

“What I didn’t tell you,” he said eventually. “Was that it was my fault.”

“What?” Belle shook her head. “How could cancer possibly be your fault?”

“Not the cancer,” he amended. “Just - well, she could have had treatment, you see. But she was pregnant, and - and it would have meant losing me. She insisted on waiting until I was born before she got the treatment, but by then it was too late.”

“Oh God…” Belle closed her eyes. “I’m so sorry.” 

“She had a choice in who lived and who died,” he went on, “and - and she chose me. She sacrificed herself so that her child could live. Having had my own child, I can understand that. I’m sure you understand it, too.”

Belle nodded wordlessly, running a hand over her belly. I’d die ten times over to protect this little one.

“I never knew her, he said. “I don’t remember anything about her. I wish I did. I don’t even have a photograph.”

“Did your father not keep any?” she asked, and he shrugged a little.

“If so, I never saw them,” he said.

“Maybe he didn’t want to be reminded of what he’d lost,” she suggested, and he inclined his head.

“Maybe not.”

“That’s incredibly sad.”

“Yeah.”

She traced the edge of his ribs with a finger, curving upwards before stroking back around his waist again.

“You said he died,” she said. “Did you manage to see him beforehand?”

Gold shook his head.

“We hadn’t spoken in a few years,” he said. “I was already in the US when he died, and I didn’t go back. Is that bad? Perhaps it is. Perhaps I should have. I just - I don’t know, I couldn’t face another bloody reminder of how little I meant to him.”

“You don’t think he loved you?” she asked, and Gold let out a hollow laugh.

“Oh, I know he didn’t.”

“But that’s so sad!” she said. “I just - I don’t know, I thought maybe having you would have been some comfort to him. The child he created with the woman he loved.”

“He didn’t want a child, though,” said Gold. “He never wanted me.”

Belle wriggled in the sheets, sitting up and looking down at him.

“But he kept you,” she said. “He could have handed you over to social services or had you adopted, but he didn’t. He must have felt something. Maybe he just didn’t know how to show it.”

“He’d made a promise to my mother to look after me, so he kept that promise,” said Gold. “Although I’d like to think she would have preferred him not to be an abusive drunk.”

“Alex…” Belle shook her head. “I’m so sorry.”

“I suppose it could have been worse,” he said lightly. “He fed me, clothed me and kept a roof over my head until I was fifteen. As he was very fond of saying when he was calling me an ungrateful brat.”

“That’s - that’s not being a parent,” she said, getting outraged on his behalf, and Gold shrugged.

“Well, when you’re a child you have no terms of reference,” he said. “You’re a blank slate. You go to school and all the kids you know are getting whacked by their parents or left alone for hours in favour of the pub, so you presume that’s normal.”

Belle bit her lip in distress, fingers stroking his waist. She was trying to think of something to say to comfort him, and found that she couldn’t think of anything. He seemed to want to talk, and she stayed silent, hoping it would encourage him. The lightning flashed again, throwing his features into sharp relief before the room was plunged into darkness once more. Gold took a breath, his brows lifting in the centre, his lower lip shaking a little, as though the words were struggling to get free.

“My - my father said that he wished I had died, and my mother had lived,” he said tonelessly, and Belle felt her eyes widen in shock.

“He said that to you?”

“It was just after Milah had taken Bae,” he said. “I was frantic, desperate. He laughed, Belle. Told me I was lucky. I could start again without the burden of family around my neck. He - he called my child a burden...”

He glanced away, swallowing hard, and Belle settled back down by his side again.

“Was he always so…” She struggled to find a word. “...awful?”

Gold sucked his teeth, as though he was thinking about it.

“You know, it’s been a long time since I actually thought about my childhood in any detail,” he said. “I think it’s seeing Dr Hopper that brought it up again, and having a child of my own on the way. I’ve been trying to remember whether he ever hugged me, or said anything that wasn’t critical, or cutting, or just plain cruel. Honestly, I’m drawing a blank.”

Belle sighed, leaning in to press her brow to his.

“That won’t happen with us,” she said. “We won’t let it.”

Gold nodded agreement.

“I knew how much love I had for my son,” he whispered. “My father told me love was a disease, that it made you weak, that it only led to pain and loss. When Bae was taken, when I couldn’t find him, I - I thought maybe he was right.”

Belle shook her head, reaching up to stroke her fingers through his hair.

“He was wrong,” she said firmly. “It’s strength. It matters. Your mother knew what love was, and so do you.”

“But what if that’s not enough?” he whispered. “What if I’m not enough? For you. For our child. What if I end up like him?”

“You won’t,” she said. “Because you choose not to.”

His mouth had twisted, and she wanted to grab him, to kiss the doubt and self-loathing from him.

“I know it!” she insisted. “The love you have for Bae, for our child - I know that’s real. I know it’s true. You take after her, not him. You’ll never be him.”

He eyed her, but nodded.

“Thank you,” he said. “For listening. For - well, for everything, really.”

“Like I said.” She kissed his nose. “You can tell me anything.”

He smiled, and went back to stroking her hair, letting dark curls slip through his fingers.

“Have you told Dr Hopper about this?” she asked, and he shook his head.

“I’ve never told anyone.”

“I think you should,” she said. “When you’re ready, of course. I think he could help.”

“Perhaps.”

He smiled faintly, and she wriggled a little closer.

“In the meantime,” she added. “I think we need to spend some quality time reconnecting.”

His smile widened, teeth gleaming in the moonlight.

“Reconnecting, hmm?”

“Oh yes.” She raised her chin, trying not to smirk at him. “Mentally. Emotionally. Physically.”

He let out a rumbling noise of approval, his hand sliding down her body and over her hip.

“That sounds - perfect,” he murmured. 

“I thought so.” She let her lips graze along his jaw. “After all, it won’t be long before the baby comes. I have a feeling we should make the most of our alone time while we can.”

Gold slid his hand back up, cupping her breast gently before stroking his fingers across her cheek and into her hair. He brushed his nose against hers, and she heard his breath quicken as his lips touched hers.

“I love you, Belle,” he whispered.

He kissed her, and she opened her mouth for him, pulling him closer. Yes. Some time alone together would be perfect.