#THIS WAS SO FUCKING GOOD LIKE HELLO???? SPARE TALENT PLEASE? PLEASE??????

[304files]

IT TOOK TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS…. BUT IVE FINALLY READ THIS AND IT LITERALLY SHATTERED ME INTO A MILLION PIECES.

“i’d take you, promised to another man. i’d take you no matter how you are; in a thousand different lives, i’d have you each time.” who else SOBBED????

𝓐T 𝓢WA𝓝 𝓛AKE ﹐､﹒ c.bg ˏˋ੭ꠥ ¸ˎ

as both equals and opposites, white swan and black swan, it is paramount that you and choi beomgyu do not touch. the curse of your natures did not even make exception for incidental brushes. that was never an issue for you—not until the day the prince took it upon himself to break every rule you’d ever known. ⋆˛ ˛

⸺ listen to the playlist .ᐟ ‧˚

⸉⋆ ᧔ 🦢᧓ ･ 10.3k

𝒫airings ˒ black swan prince!beomgyu 𝓍 white swan princess!reader

𝒢 ‎⍪ smut ˒ fantasy ˒ forbidden romance

𝒲arnings ˒ smut, angst and longing, unprotected sex, lots of teasing, jealousy…, yearning and yearning, he cums on her, theyre both desperate, pathetically in love!beomgyu, shes all he wants, virgin!reader, loss of innocence, he talks her through it, he gets a little whiny… hmm i can’t remember if i’m missing anything. this is not proofread!! i’m gonna nap first.

✎୭ ashlynn's note @hmusunoo … baby you did your big one with this. i can not explain to you how excited i’ve been for this one. this is absolutely my favorite. it’s just so me, u know me so well and i think we should kiss. THANK U!

﹙⋞ ﹚... back to the 𝓂asterlist

Around you, mist and delicate flurries sit over white, fluffy blankets. Where it sits over the lake, it turns the horizon of the lake’s expanse into an obscured uncertainty. If you hadn’t spent so much time right here, you might think that it goes on forever. 

It’s a beautiful, clear winter’s morning. Sparkling air wraps you in sweet and crisp tendrils, every breath to your lungs almost bitingly fresh. But in all its lightness, your chest only feels heavier. You had hoped that coming here would be a little, momentary respite. The air is so free around you, though, the weight doesn’t float away with it—it just leaves nothing but the feeling for you to contend with. No skittish wildlife rustle the foliage, and a thin film holds the crystalline lake from lapping at the bank. It seems that not even the wind moves. Just you.  

It’s not your tears that you hide here. Sadness is a soft, gentle thing; an acceptable thing for a Lady like yourself to indulge in. It’s what the people expect of their princess. The demure and always prim White Swan. Always correct, always just how you should be. 

Your tears are more like scalding, molten licks of fire than the slow, darling tears that are expected of you, though. They’re angry. It clashes up against the walls you’ve built up within yourself, against the role you’ve assumed. 

That’s why you’ve come here. Coarser emotions are unbecoming of you, and it’d be a shame to feel them in front of others. It’s a shame that you’re letting yourself feel it now, even. You summon a thin sigh, funneling up all the tangy bitterness on your tongue to let it fall out into the air before you. 

It doesn’t do much for you, really. This—feeling like this, so beyond the reach of your usual ways to shove down ugliness—is unfamiliar. Your entire life has been this, why do you struggle with it now? In the center of you, mingling with that anger, it’s as though a blackness blooms. Like a wretched flowering of some invasive plume, or perhaps the floating of inky black feathers through your bloodstream, you feel painted dark and unpleasant. 

Holding the dappled fur of your shawl closer, you decide to watch chunks of crystal white ice float on the water’s surface. Or maybe the on-and-off snowflakes that float down around you. Even tracing the lengths of barren branches, lined with white fluff so still and serene, with your eyes. Anything but delving into what that tainted tug inside is, or what it might mean about you.  

Snow crunches, or maybe a branch shifting, beckons your attention. But the foliage isn’t too thick, and trees are sparse around the lake, and there is always some small winged creature fluttering between branches out here. So, you brush it off. 

A tingling about your person, some sort of whispering premonition, whisps and tugs just around your person. You straighten up at another thick step crunching in the snow from behind you. This time, you can’t explain it away.  

A figure greets you. Dark, raven strands of silken hair fallen over eyes of the same, his skin so stark against it, black shoulder cloak on his shoulder flowing like velvet water against his billowing sleeves all ruffled and enamoring. He glitters like the frost, twinkling silver threads and black crystals sewn in to catch the light and make a show of him. Standing there, looking at you, he doesn’t look caught or frozen. 

But you are. Wholly still, all of you like a sculpture of frost, you gawk right at him. You’d never interacted with the prince, the black swan. Never even seen him. It was never in the cards. Fear like ice curls clawed fingers over your heart and grasps it.  

All your life, grand warnings of terrible things of him and what might happen should the two of you ever touch fell from the mouths of those around you. It was the constitution of who the two of you are—born to be the balance to each other, never to touch. Just an incidental brushing of fingers meant turning the world’s balance over on its head. They told you that the world would begin to fray at the seams, reality would warp, and that it’d be all your fault. And they also told you plenty about who the prince was as a person, too. Not only do you fear him for the curse of your nature, but also for all the nasty things you’ve heard of him. This, meeting him, was a thing of your deepest-cutting nightmares. 

And, there, he stands in front of you. 

“What are you doing out here crying?” Beomgyu says, curious eyes darting over your face. Under his gaze, you’re not sure how to feel. But you feel every last bit of it, regardless. 

You wipe at your cheek, where he must’ve seen the wet streaks glistening in the light. Summoning some poise up from where you keep it in handy, you say, “It’s no matter. I was just looking out on the snow.” You fix up your hair and your dress.  

The prince frowns, studying your face once again. Utterly unconvinced by what he finds there, he gestures toward you. “You’ve been crying, princess,” he says. “I didn’t think that lying was in the cards for you.” 

Lying? Not in the cards for you? Lying is all you do. You lie to yourself and to others more than you are honest. “Maybe, but I’m well,” you say, and then you lift the soft skirts of your dress to step without treading it in the snow. “Really, I ought to get home before the snowfall gets heavier. It was lovely seeing you.” You try and make sure to keep a good and proper distance from him as you make for where you arrived here from. 

Beomgyu reaches out for you, only pulling back from grabbing your arm at a frighteningly slim realization. “Wait,” he says, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he realizes what he’d almost just done. “You don’t have to leave. Why is it that you cry?” 

He’d almost touched you. That close—you’d come that close to tragedy in only the first moments of your meeting. Your heart pumps out sizzling, frantic energy that has you looking at him wide-eyed and shaken. “I think you and I both are the most aware why it’s best that I leave,” you tell him, keeping it curt. You hold your arms to you.  

Strong brows knitting, he shakes his head and stakes some big steps back. The snow, sat powdery and calf-high on the ground, creaks beneath them. “I’ll stay back here,” he says. “Just don’t go. Won’t you entertain me? It’s a gentleman’s duty to help a weeping Lady.” 

You falter. The words might have you blushing and offering him a modest thank you, but the way he says it—it’s rather taunting. It’s taunting in a way that gets right up under your skin and ruffles your feathers. “And why does it bother you so?” you ask him, arching a dainty brow. You’re not even sure why he’s come out here in the first place. This is the one place that you ordain your own. It seems that not even here can you be totally alone. “They’ll have a fit if they know I was here with you.” 

The prince, with his clear, ethereal features cracking into a wicked amusement that you’re not sure how to digest, says, “Perhaps they will.” He tilts his head at you, wispy strands of hair moving over his shadowed eyes with it. “But, princess, that’s the fun in it. That they will admonish you for it. Is that why you’re crying?” 

Fun? Nothing about what your people, your parents, might do should they find that you’d not only been near but spoken to the black swan, is fun. You level him wary eyes. And, though sense tugs at your feet and asks you to get going, you do not. You do not know why. 

“I think it is.” He’s got an obnoxious tilt to his lips. “I think that’s why you cry.” 

A scoff, an abrasive and distasteful sound coming from you, falls out from your mouth. There’s that awful imprudence and temerity that you’ve heard of the black swan—everything you ought not to be. “You seem the type to know everything,” you say. 

He laughs, delighted. “Is that snark?” 

Pursing your lips as though confused, you spin spiced threads of patronization into your voice. “Not snark,” you say. “Just an observation.” 

 “Hmm.” Beomgyu slides his hands into his pockets to warm his hands. “Might I make an observation about you, princess?” 

There’s interest written all over his face—you know he’s playing some sort of game. You also know that you shouldn’t indulge him in it. Still, you do. A slight raising of your brow, or maybe the interest twinkling in your eyes, too, tells him to go on. 

“I think that you are too dutiful for your own good,” he says.  

In a slight, testy step, he inches closer. Not so close that you worry, but the two of you are not even supposed to be in the same room. Anything is too close. You mirror it with a step back. “You don’t know me,” you say. Against your better judgement, though, your lips twitch into a soft smile. The kind of smile that is insistent, no matter how you refuse it. “So, I believe your wonderings to be entirely groundless.” 

Hair blowing gently in the wisps of a winter wind and his nose and cheeks gone pink, he says, “Oh, princess. Hardly. I think we know a great deal about each other.” 

Well, that’s true enough. All your life you heard of him and your curse. You’re sure it was no different for him, no matter your differences. “And what do you know about me?” you ask.  

Beomgyu’s laugh falls out in a white puff of curling frost. “I know it’s been arranged that you’ll marry a superior Lord,” he says. He observes you. “Am I right?” 

So fast, just with that, lightness falls from your face. You hadn’t wanted to be reminded. Your feet itch to be off, so that you can feel it elsewhere. Not here; not in front of him. Leveling yourself so that your voice doesn’t come out as stilted as you feel, you say, “Yeah. You are.” 

With his eyes narrowing on you, he says, “You know, it’s weird. I’ve never seen a girl excited to be wedded look like that when it’s brought up.” 

You reign in your face and shake your head. “I am perfectly excited. It’s a blessing to be married into such a family.” As much as you smooth over the furrowing of your brows, or make your expression pleasant, it’s not so easy to tame the picking of your fingers. 

Anything other than excited, you might be. But absolutely not that. In fact, you are beyond yourself with anger, and you have nowhere to go with it. It bubbles hot just under your skin and demands a release that you cannot give. 

Being who you are, it’s been a truth you’ve known your whole life. Someday, you were going to be offered like a shiny, silver pawn to the highest bidder. And you, as the world’s white swan, are quite the enticing thing to own. You thought you’d banished the hope for a union of love right where you’d left the sense of self behind: years ago. The time’s come now, but you aren’t as at peace with it as you should be. No matter how hard you try, you are more human than you’d like to be, and far too human to be what the world expects you to be. 

If you’re going to be frank with yourself: you do not want to marry him. Living as something bought, expected to live forever as this mellowed out, poised version of yourself by the side of some man who you don’t even know or love... Of any fate you might be made to live, you think that this one is the worst. 

Beomgyu begins working on taking off his jacket, a white and pretty thing with thick, winter fabric. He offers it to you. “You don’t have to lie to me about it. Maybe them, but not me.” 

You look between him and his offering hand—his perfect features that are so elegant, and yet, there’s a wildness to him in those hard black eyes. If you didn’t already know so much about him, you might still be able to see the untamed in him. Who couldn’t? He wears it plainly; without remorse. You’re not sure how to interact with it, but, in a way, you envy him. 

Reaching out, you accept the jacket from his hand. Tentatively, with great care so as to avoid touch, but you do.  

It’s nice and soft against your frost-kissed shoulders. But it’s not enough to fix the bite against the skin on your face, so you trudge through the snow over to the sparse tree line, where the trunks might protect you better from it than the flat expanse of the lake’s surface. You press your back to a tree, and he mirrors it on the tree opposite to you. Looking over the great lake, so very serene. It twinkles with an ice film like sugar crystals atop its surface. “I guess I’m just... scared,” you say. The words come out soft and uncertain. 

He nods. Listening. So, you continue. “I don’t even know him. I haven’t spoken to my betrothed once. Maybe I’ll get to know him, and maybe he won’t be bad, but...” 

“But he’s not who you want,” Beomgyu says. “Not who you love.” 

Licking your winter-chapped lips, you eye him for a moment. You nod slowly and say, “...Yeah. I suppose it’s selfish, but...” 

Ignited, Beomgyu pushes off the tree to say, “Selfish? You give your whole life to being their saint. Maybe they think they do, but they don’t own you.” 

You, not us. Frowning, you ask him, “Are you not set for some marriage of convenience?” Marrying is different as a woman, but you don’t doubt that the prince’s family intends to strengthen alliances by offering his marriage up to some optimistic, lesser family with a daughter to bargain the way yours has done with you. Every last girl and boy born as you two have been—destined to a life bigger than yourself, a force in the world as much as you are a person—have lived just the same. All of them. Each incarnation of the white swan, and you’re sure every black swan too. The people of this world paint you as embodiments of balance and life, but use you more like power plays. Even your own parents. You were born from your mother all the same as all your siblings, but as much as it aches to admit it, you are not their child. In the back of your throat, hurt and bare anger wells up thick. 

He half laughs, half scoffs. “They could try. It doesn’t matter to me. They’d have to kill me before I do their bidding. Is it our fault that we were born this?” he says. “I’m going to live my life how I want, no matter what.” 

You tuck your hands into your sides, where they warm between the jacket and your body heat. His words and how he looks at your lives, it’s everything you’re not. Sense of self and determination to live for more than just your predetermined role—while you’d surrendered it all, he lives thrashing and fighting against it. A product of your mirrored and opposite natures.  

“Why?” you say, teeth chattering a bit under the cold’s caress. “You have a girl in mind?” 

That sounds nice. Being so hopefully devoted to someone, and them to you, that you might war against destiny for it. The thought only nurses hurt somewhere deep in your chest, though. Not for you. Never for you. You could be the prettiest on this Earth, the kindest, the most disciplined, or the least even. Still, that would never be yours. You know that, so why does it taste so bitter?  

A quick look, something new, passes over him. In his eyes, you see it. He looks at you for a long minute, the morning so quiet that nothing but tranquility hangs in the air for a moment, and then finally says, “Yeah. Something like that.”  

Entirely intrigued, you ask, “Who? Is she a Lady?” 

Beomgyu nods his head, that strange look lingering. “Of sorts,” he answers, crossing his arms over his chest to lean back into the bark. “And your betrothed? Some well-off Lord?” 

A smile ghosts over your mouth. “Probably. I haven’t a clue who it is; but I’m sure he’s got enough coin to spare, if my parents settled on him.” 

The lines of his face gone playful, he says, “Not possibly more well-off than me.” 

Your nose crinkles. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you say. A husband with money is nice. You can’t pretend that you don’t think of that, especially that none of your family’s wealth belongs to you, nor will it follow you into your marriage. Your heart revolts regardless.  

Shrugging after a few beats of silent considering, he turns his attention on the lake. His face turned like that, you admire the straight slope of his nose and his eyelashes as they flutter with his heavy eyes. Like the rest of him, his side profile is a contradiction. Strong and noble, but elegant like hewn from marble. It’s perfect. With all the talk in your ears, you’d pictured something far off from the youthful, wry man stood before you. Why you’d come to imagine him brutish, you’re not sure; he’s as much swan as you. Different and mirrored all the same. 

“I used to come here all the time,” he says. 

“Here? To the lake?” You perk up. This had been your hideaway as a girl; where you’d come at times like this when you needed to bury something away. You thought it’d been just yours. “I wonder how we never ran into each other. I used to do the same. I guess, I still do.” 

When his eyes fall back on you, they’re softer. More deep brown than black, but maybe it’s because you’re closer now. He says, “Well, I came here once or twice on my own, maybe when I was five. I didn’t really start coming back until I saw you. You were crying, all snotty, and throwing bread out for some ducks.” 

Your face twists up, maybe at the memory or maybe with confusion. It seems like if he’d really come here so often, and had even seen you here, you’d have noticed. “You must have thought I was weird,” you say, the words coming out around a shiver.  

“Maybe,” he says through a wry smile that’s cracked over his lips. “But mostly, I just wished I could talk to you.” 

He’d watched you, because he couldn’t approach you? You were under the impression that the prince had never cared for the rules, not even one so paramount as that. But, it seems that his brashness came to him later. He stands in front of you now, doesn’t he? Maybe it was just that innocent trust that, as children, you levy out to those arounds you. Especially toward adults; and all of those had preached over moments like this. You imagine a young, curious Beomgyu, hiding himself away between bushes, itching to approach or play with you. But he never did; you hadn’t the slightest clue he’d even been there until now. Could you two have been friends, if not for the curse? 

“You never came out,” you say. “Or introduced yourself?” It’s all you can really think. 

His mouth twitches. “Would you have stayed?” 

No. Then, you don’t think you would’ve. Even now, you’re stricken with the innate fear of touching him, no matter how surprised you are at how different he is. Different from what they said he’d be. You think you would’ve darted, should you have known who he was. For some reason, that makes your heart ache. A dark ebbing wave of ache that you are unfamiliar with. 

A slight knowing smile danced over his features, eyes gone to sweet crescents that turn them, usually so dark, into something rounded. Not so abrasive. He tilts his head off to one side and says, “You’re freezing. How long have you been out here?” 

Cheeks long been numb, you answer, “An hour. Maybe and a half?” 

“I’ll walk you home.” 

You grimace. Arriving with him by your side, the man you quite literally were not supposed to even speak with, is the very last thing you should do. An awful idea. “I wouldn’t bother you. It’s probably not the best idea to show up after disappearing, with a man by my side. Especially not as a to-be-married woman,” you say. “But, thank you. Really.” 

He knows what you really mean, though. A muscle in his jaw feathers. “Alright,” he says. “I suppose we wouldn’t want that, would we?” 

As he begins to turn, making for wherever he’d come here from, you call out to him. “Hey, wait. Your jacket.” You pull it off your shoulders and joust it out at him. Against your skin which it had warmed, the air is bitterly cold. 

“Keep it, princess,” he says, giving you a parting nod. “Get home warm.” 

❆

Today, you are to give your hand to a man that you do not know.

In the air, the rich nuttiness of fire-toasted chestnuts dance and mingle with the roar of chatter. Hundreds of familiar and unfamiliar faces line long tables with runners decorated by platters of plump, sugar-dusted plums and fruit pies. They’ve all come in their winter’s best—whites and reds and luxurious furs lining thick, velvety fabrics or embroidered with sparkling threads and studded with crystals that twinkle in the low firelight. It’s warm and lovely and all just for you. 

But, you don’t feel any of that. All you feel is a heavy belly. Each smile you tug over your mouth feels like dead weight. You’re familiar with this—putting on the act. Smiling in faces that you know will turn around and have something else to say about you, pretending like you don’t know that it’s all false sweetness. You’d been trained in noble propriety since you could walk and talk. 

But, considering that they’ve all come here to shower you with gifts and lovely words for a marriage in which they could really not care about beyond how they make it a profit, it’s all a bit more sour. 

You’ve met your promised. The man you’re supposed to wed and spend the entirety of your life beside. You spoke with him for... what, two minutes? Two very awkward, very awful minutes. What should you have to say to each other? You’re meeting for the first time today. At your engagement feast. It’s a real conscious effort to not take your lip into your mouth and gnaw, or to not fuss over your hair, or honestly anything that might show these people that you are anything but pleased. 

So, you relent to their gaudy pleasantries. You listen to them tell you that it’s such a blessing to be married to a man of high society—and a wealthy one, too. They tell you that they knew your marriage would bring a great dowry; that all the white swans have. That they were watching and expecting it. All you hear is the dripping of greed; all you see is hungry eyes and fingers crossed behind backs. 

You relent to it until your stomach is sick and wrought with it. And then, the older lady ahead of you singing praises of your beauty, of how she wishes her daughter might catch the eye of a husband as advantageous as yours, does something out of the ordinary. Her eyes drift behind you, her snooty, pinched features twisting up into something new. You follow her gaze. 

Dark and beautiful and his eyes trained right on you, the black swan prince stands beside you. He’s lazed, a heavy cup of some thick, spiced and wintery drink in one hand, as he does. In the clear light of morning, he’d looked so out of place. But here, soft and hard planes of his face illustrated by the flickering orange firelight, he looks so right. 

You blink. And then blink again. Never once had Beomgyu made any sort of appearance at any hosted thing by your family. You just stand in place for a moment, registering his presence.

“You look lovely, princess,” he says. His eyes fall up and down you. The way he says it—it’s liquid smooth, but it’s taunting in a way. “The perfect image of a bride-to-be.”

He can’t be here. He can’t be here at all. When you look to the side, the woman is already gone. You have no doubt in your mind that she’s whispering in somebody’s ear right now.

“Prince,” you say, gritting your teeth while also dipping into an elegant curtsy. 

“Do you feel that way?” He raises his eyebrows at you, his gaze heavy with underlying tension. “A perfect bride? Happy?”

Making the conscious decision to not look around you, because you can already feel the burning interest of the eyes that you’ll find on you, you say, “I do. Isn’t this quite the feast?”

“I told you that you don’t have to lie to me, princess.”

You shouldn’t even be standing here talking to him. They’re all watching. Stepping back to cut conversation with something witty, you stop in the onslaught of a chorus of surrounding gasps.

Beomgyu had reached out to grab you, and only stopped himself short the same way he had the first time you met him. A muscle twitches in his jaw as he brings his hand down, curling the fingers as if to wash away the urge to reach out.

He’s closer now, too. His breath smells sickly sweet with the liqueur he drinks. A sarcastic grin over his lips, he says, “Did he pay for all this?”

You do a dance of give and take. You step back, and he meets it with a step toward you, all the way until you find yourselves in a quieter corner. “He did sponsor the feast, yes.”

“Well, isn’t that just great,” he says, voice carrying over the many layered sounds of the gathering. “And that makes you happy? You feel fulfilled by that? Is that the purpose of the lovely white swan?”

You’re not sure what he’s getting at, or why your marriage is any of his business. For some reason, though, despite those rational thoughts, some faraway memory whispers that it makes every bit of sense. “He is a lovely man.”

Barking a laugh, Beomgyu says, “Don’t make me laugh. You don’t believe that, no matter how many times you tell it to yourself.”

You curl your fingers into the obnoxious, glittering material of your dress. “Seriously, what makes you so sure?” you say. “What makes you so sure you know? This is good for me. This is the way things are supposed to go. Not everybody in this world can get away with serving only themselves and doing whatever they want. Maybe it works for you, but not for the rest of us. I’m glad your life is fun, though. Really.” 

His face doesn’t sharpen into offence, though you brace for him to. You’ve never spoken to anybody like that. Ever. Shaking his head, raven locks glowing warm around the edges, he says, “Because I know. I know. Are you listening to me? You don’t have to lie to me.”

Balking at him, you don’t know how to answer. That was nowhere near the answer you were expecting from the prince, known and notorious for his chaos and fire.

“I am listening,” you say, keeping your voice measured. Thick emotion slips through the seams. “Honesty has never done me any good. This is going to happen; all honesty is going to do is hurt me. So, I’m sorry.”

His mouth opens to fire something back, but you don’t hear it. Somebody digs their fingers into your upper arm, dragging you without a word away from your conversation. You stumble, letting them take you without a fuss. This was to be expected. You shouldn’t look back. If today was already going to be the last day you ever see him, it certainly is now that you’ve been caught not only in touching distance to him, but making conversation with him.

Tossing a self-betraying glace over your shoulder, you find his figure. Hand in pocket and his lips turned down, he watches you go.

You wish you wouldn’t have. You have no explanation for the emptiness it casts into your chest.

❆

Recently, you’ve been crying so much. You might believe that it’s because you’ve been letting yourself feel freely, but you don’t feel free.

Your palms are soaked against your cheeks, face fallen into them as you shudder with it. Their words pin and scrape in your head, forcing you to contend with them before bouncing off the walls and you hear them again and again until your stomach has gone sick. Your parents had given you an earful. That’s been your whole life; you can handle that. The moment you saw him there, intending to speak to you, you’d prepared for it. Instead, it was their contempt and sneering faces that bleed your heart like this. 

In this life, you are alone. Totally, wholly alone. Who you are—your role in life—is not the blessing they claim it to be. Is it selfish to ask to be understood? For somebody to just understand, without your pleading or begging?

Maybe. It feels that way, anyway.

“Why is it that I always find you crying?”

His voice freezes you to where you sit sprawled on your floor. Spinning to him, you say, “What are you doing?”

Beomgyu shrugs, as though he hasn’t snuck his way into your room. “I felt bad for getting you dragged off. Wanted to come see how you’re doing.”

Maybe his insisting on being around you should be annoying, but right now… You think you appreciate the company, even from the forbidden likes of him. “You can’t be here,” you hiss. “How did you get in? They’ll… if they find you here…”

His boots squeak against the polished flooring as he approaches you, and then settles down on the floor with you. The fire flickering behind him, his back to it, casts an orange light around the edges of his figure. He looks terribly inviting, like this: strewn on the floor, no holier or better than you, his face not sickly sweet nor cold and devoid of love, and his eyes curious to know how you feel. 

“I don’t care what they’ll do to me. I want to see you.” He tugs his jacket off, letting it fall on the dirty floor. Improper for a prince, but Beomgyu doesn’t care. That’s who he’s always been—that’s the one thing that was entirely true out of all the things you heard about him. “Who the hell cares about their approval? We don’t need it.”

You know what he means by they and we. Only a few days ago, you’d still believed that Beomgyu was other; that he was your total opposite, and that you should fear his darkness for all your lightness. All it’s taken is being around him the once or twice that you’ve been able to for you to realize the falsity that drips from that. When you’re around him, your soul, feathery and wispy in your chest and your veins and all the rest of you that constitutes you beyond what is physical, tugs. It’s impossible to ignore—it consumes you. Where your soul longs for him around the edges, like torn and searching for what’s been lost, you feel stuff that is beyond yourself.

Rather than your opposite, you think that Beomgyu is your other half. You think that they’ve gotten it all wrong. 

“How do you do it?” you say, back up against a white, whorling table leg. “How do you not care? I don’t understand.”

Inky eyes shining, he says, “I did. When I was young, I believed everything they told me. It’s hard not to, when it’s all you hear. Them, telling us that our purpose is to surrender ourselves to be something Saint-like. But when you catch one lie, you begin to catch the others, too. I saw their excuses and reasonings peel. Princess, it’s all lies. Everything you know is lies.” He says it with such conviction. Each and every word reaches down into that part of yourself that is missing something. “We’re not their Saints. That’s never been our purpose. I hate that shit; I hate that they’ve made you think that this is all you’re for. Marrying him? Never doing anything, because you’re scared of what it’ll mean for you? It’s not fucking fair.” He pushes himself closer to you. Now, your criss crossed knees are so close that a stray move might mean the world’s end. This time, you don’t panic. There’s no room for that among the swarm of your other thoughts. “So, of course I don’t give a shit about what they tell me to do. I’m going to live this life the way that it’s supposed to be. I wish that you could join me.”

“This life?” you blurt. It’s the one thought that appears clear to you, so it’s what comes out. Frowning, you add, “What lies?”

Deadpanned and as though he’s not delivering something that changes the world’s fabric around you, Beomgyu says, “There is no curse. There’s never been a curse.”

Your room is silent for a few moments, and then you shake your head and laugh. “How would you know that?” you say, nose wrinkling. If you don’t laugh, you’ll begin to actually consider the possibility of that. Just the very surface of the notion makes you nauseous. You couldn’t handle exploring the thought deeper. 

Beomgyu doesn’t laugh along with you. “The curse is a lie, and everything that comes with it. All of it is just excuses or justification for the hate for the other people. The whole reason that they ever decided on it was because of their hate. Maybe to the people alive now, it’s not a lie. But that’s what it started as.” His face, dark and soft as he reads your face, twists up. “Of course, we can touch. We are two halves of a whole. There is you in me, and I in you. Do you not feel it? The tug? That’s it. The black swan and the white swan were never meant to be apart and opposite. We are meant to be together. We’re meant to be the only ones that understand each other. It’s us against the world, princess.”

Your ears ring with the pierce of each word cascading out from his mouth. “Beomgyu, I don’t understand. That doesn’t… Make sense. How?” He can’t just make claims about that. Not something like this. It’s not fair.

“I know it’s hard to believe, princess. It’s all you’re ever made to believe. But you have to trust me. Do you trust me?”

Tongue darting out to wet your lips and your fingers stilling where you fuss at the fabric of your chemise, you take a good look at him. Roaming over his features, the contradiction in them and the strange familiarity that constitutes him no matter the fact that you’ve only just met, you consider it. Everything he says is absurd, and it does go against everything you’ve ever known. You should turn your nose up at him for even suggesting it; should suspect that he only has some sort of plan to coax you into bringing the world’s end.

But, you do. You trust him beyond explanation, as though intrinsically.

You nod slowly, holding his eyes in yours. “But I don’t understand,” you say. “How do you know?”

He smiles ruefully. “I saw something—had a dream when I was young. I saw us, in every last lifetime. We have lived again and again, as we are, in so many different ways. But the one thing that was always there was that they couldn’t keep us away from each other.”

The world does a few spins around you. Lightheaded, you try to stay up under the oppressive gravity of that. You want to stick your head in the ground and shake your head and yell no, but that deep tugging that has plagued you beginning the moment you’d met him, and all the emptiness before it, tells you yes. 

How poetic is that? How tragic? You, two souls born to be one, made to live apart at the interests of the world around you. Made to do it across every lifetime, and yet, in each you meet. In each, the twinkling thread of fate prevails nevertheless. 

“Do they all love?”

That soft smile still playing on his lips, his cheek to his knee as he looks at you with the veneration of somebody who might’ve loved you in a thousand lifetimes before, and perhaps in this one, too. “No. Some of us were secret lovers, but so many of those lived how you do for the entirety of their life. Halved,” he says. “And never did any of them touch.”

Heart fluttering with wings in your chest, you say, “So, how do you know that the curse is a lie? If it’s never been done before?”

“Let me show you,” he says. “That I can touch you.”

All the blood in your body pulls back. You trust him; you do. But is trust enough to risk a touch that could be the end of the world? Is trust enough to be so selfish to do so? 

Seeing you blanch, Beomgyu’s eyes go glassy. “Please,” he says, voice breaking as if to touch you might mean more than just proving something to you. As if the weight of everything he’s ever wanted rests on the back of it working—that if this works, and the world does not fall apart around you, then he can love you how he does, and how he had so many times before. Inevitably. “I would never do anything to hurt you.”

“Beomgyu,” you say, looking between his eyes and the twitch of his hand as it itches to touch you. “I don’t… I’m scared.” Your voice drops to nothing more than a whisper.

“It’s okay,” he says, bringing that longing hand up. Your heart jumps when he raises up by your face. “You can be selfish this once. I want to see you do something because you want to, not because it’s what you think others might want.”

Your throat burns and tightens. Every last sparkling bit of your being longs to lean into his touch—to do what you two have wanted to do so many times before, and finally bring your souls back together. “What if it happens?” you ask, your eyes soft and true like an animal turning its soft underbelly to receive affection.

“Then let it,” he says. “At least we would have touched. Just this once.”

Gritting your teeth and swallowing hard, your belly does itself up into knots. You don’t answer him, but your quiet speaks enough. His hand hovers beside your face with the weight of the world in it.

The first touch of the white swan and the black swan happens in a gentle cupping of your cheek. And, the world does fall down around you. The walls melt, air leaves, and the seams of everything that’s even been good or true are ripped out and sewn with something new and beautiful. It’s as explosive and cosmic as you imagined it, but it is not terrifying. It’s lovely.

Your breaths shudder, your lungs trembling as you look into his eyes and realize what this means.

“Fuck,” is all Beomgyu breathes. It looks as though that it’s all he can manage. His touch grows more solid as the both of you realize that the both of you are still very much here, and so is the world. Thumb pad grazing over the softness of your cheek, his throat bobs with a swallow. You think that if you were to press your hand over your chest, you might feel it thudding there to the same thunderous rhythm that yours beats to.

So, you do. Because you can touch him. His heart sings beneath your palm, even through fabric and flesh. You can’t help the wobbling of your lip and the hot tears that spill out past your eyes and roll down your cheeks.

The second touching is the bringing together of your lips. His mouth is soft and hard against yours, contradictory as the rest of him. He brings his other hand up to hold your face into his kiss. It’s not sweet and slow—it’s as ground-rumbling as the kiss between intertwined souls coming together after an eternity of being away. Each nip and lick and clash of teeth are like the claps of thunder of the storm that will end the world, his hand sliding up the back of your neck to card his fingers through the hair at the back of your head like the claws of a beast sent to ensure its end.

And, maybe Beomgyu is the beast that has come to end the world. You wonder how he’d waited so long to bring the truth to you, or if he was torn about ever telling you. What changed things, after so many years of him watching you from afar? Your engagement? Perhaps that’s what that drink in his hand had been: a thing to forget with.

It hadn’t worked. As he kisses you for all the lifetimes in which you couldn’t, you know that he couldn’t have accepted that and moved on. Of all the black swans that have lived and passed, Beomgyu must be the most stubborn and strong-willed. That’s why, out of every single life, this is the first that you touch. He would take the world on, or play with the existence of it, for this. Just for you. All for you—you’d found somebody who will do something just for you. Curling your fingers into the front of his tunic just over his chest, you pour the fire of that revelation into your kiss.

He roams his hands all over you, mapping your shape. You kiss and kiss, lips tugging and twisting against each other, and still it isn’t enough. Bracing a splayed palm over your lower back, he does not stop kissing you even as he lays you back onto the ground. The flooring is cold against your burning body. He supports his weight on one hand beside your head and straddles your hips to do nothing but run his fingers through your hair and just kiss you.��

Only when your lungs are too hungry to ignore does he free your mouth. His soft black hair dangles over his starry eyes as he looks down at you with them. Lips swollen and smeared with you, his chest heaves. Bringing his free hand up, he wipes your wet cheek.

“Oh my god,” you say, breathless. “Beomgyu.”

Pressing his forehead to yours, he laughs. “I like when you call me that. I think I want to make you scream it—scream it until they come breaking down your doors and see that we are each other's. Until your fiancé hears it.”

Body bursting at the seams at the prospect, you nod frantically and dip your face into his neck to dust starry kisses there, too. He shudders. “I want it so bad. Can you please?”

“Of course I can. I’m going to make love to you, okay?” He pushes off you, crawling back so that he’s sat squatted just before your knees as you pin them together. “Open your legs, princess. Show me how pretty you are—I’ve waited so long for it.” He pats on the outer side of your knee.

Thrill spiraling up from between your thighs like sparks, you oblige slowly. You let your legs fall open for him, and choke on your own heart as he begins to slowly work your dress up the expanse of your legs, and then your thighs, baring to him the plush and unseen skin there. He eats it up wildly, his eyes gone ravenous and even blacker.

“I’ve never done this before,” you say, voice trill and unsure. “I don’t know what to do.”

A wicked grin cracks over his features. “I know, princess.” The fabric bunches at your thighs, now. You tremble with the stifling anticipation. “I’m going to take care of you. It’s going to feel so good—I’m gonna make you feel so good. I have so many things I want to do to you. Lifetimes of things I want to make you feel.”

Doe-eyed and laying your trust in his hands, your thighs twitch and you nod. He reveals your cunt at last, finally catching the glistening sight of it for the very first time. And, he does not disappoint. The look that washes over his face—the twitching of his lips, the tightening of his jaw in a flickering muscle, and the fire razing your cunt in his eyes—is something so dreamlike, but lucid nonetheless.

“You just lay down and let me help you. Treat you how a princess should be treated.” He works on his pants, silver belt clinking and then loosening, and then he’s just as exposed as you when his length pops free. It’s hard already, tall and pretty like the rest of him, but pink and obscene at the tip. He leaks from the little slit at the top. “Look at you. You look like you want to taste it,” he says, laughing while collecting the liquid to pump himself a few times. “Next time, baby. I’d love to see the proper mouth of the world’s princess choking on my cock.”

The air is cold against the mess between your legs. It sends a chill up your spine—or maybe that was the crudeness of his words. You suppose you should’ve expected nothing less from him. When he goes to climb back over you and line himself up with you, your thighs twitch and try to snap shut.

He pins your hip to the floor. “Don’t be shy, baby. I wanna see that pretty pussy. It’s not fair to hide it from me.”

“Sorry,” you say, cheeks burning.

Taking that hand and sliding it up behind the back of one of your knees, pressing that thigh up to your torso, he laughs a teasing laugh down at you. “Don’t say sorry,” he says. He holds his length adjacent to your slit and then begins to slip up and down the length of it. “Just let me fuck you. I need it so bad.” He hisses in tandem with you. The drags of his length, harder than how you thought a cock might feel, is like undiluted liquor. “I can’t believe this… shit, princess. I’m about to fuck you. I thought I was going to have to sit here and watch you by his side.” 

You take your lip into your teeth when he pushes in. It stretches. You bring your hand up to cup the back of his neck and the other to dig into his tunic, mewling softly.

“It’s okay, princess. Hold on to me, you can take it, right? You cunt was built for me. Everything about you was made for me. Your heart, your pretty hands for me to hold, your sex, all of it. Do you feel how I fit right into you? How I was made to?”

You do. When he finally is balls-deep, his cock nestles exactly where it should. Not an inch too deep or an inch too scarce. The two of you were sculpted by something holy, fit just for each other. “Yes,” you breathe.

He can’t even linger sitting still  in you. He begins pulling himself out, all the way until the tip of him threatens to pop out lewdly, before shoving back in right up against that spot. He doesn’t even have to search for it. Head falling into your chest, he licks and bites. “The taste of you,” he says. Then, he presses his tall nose right over that spot in your neck where your heart’s gone wild. “The smell of you.” Wincing, he lays into you with more vigor, hips slapping against your skin. “The feel of you. You drive me up the fucking walls. How was I ever supposed to live without this?” he says. “I refuse.”

Your belly begins to tighten in a way that you’ve never known. Tears prick the corner of your ears, clinging to him as he fucks you into the floor like he’ll never have to opportunity to have you like this again. The wood cradles your back and the back of your hips, receiving each of his thrusts. You curl your toes and will back the lewd cries that threaten to spill over with each.

His voice is taut and wobbly. “Feels good, huh? I know. It feels… so good.” Dropping your thigh to cup your face, he says, “Cry. Cry for me. I said I wanted you to scream.”

Face burning and squirming against the hardwood behind you, you shake your head. “I can’t, gyu…”

“Yes you can,” he says, face twitching. “I want you to start letting it out, or I’m gonna stop. Do you want me to stop?”

Covering your face, with the back of a forearm, you grit your teeth through each punctual and yet sloppy grind up into you. Your bodies sweat and meld, and you’re sure that anybody walking by your quarters would know just by the hollow smacks of skin and grunts that you’re fucking a man. You, an engaged woman, are letting the prince turn your brain inside out.

But, there is nothing you want less than for him to stop. So, you let your mouth drop open and allow the sweet mewls to come with each rut.

“There we go. Louder.” He braces himself, digging his feet into the floor, and then he really starts driving into you. Sparks fly in your belly—each yellow and glowing and scalding. “Do I need to fuck you harder? C’mon, louder, princess.”

Thighs squeezing his hips so tight that they ache, you squirm. You struggle against your sounds—turning from sweet moans and mewls, you groan and gasp and your voice breaks. Each collision of your bodies breaks your sounds.

Curling your fingers into his silken hair, you grit out, “H—hoooh fuck, Beomgyu, Beomgyu, I feel… like…”

Bangs sticky and his eyes growing wilder, he knows something you don’t. The knowing, taunting grin on his mouth says enough. “Let it happen. Don’t fight it.  Just stay—stay right there, and I’ll give it to you. No running from it; it’s gonna feel so good.” His muscles go taut, and he doubles down on his efforts, panting through his nose and his neck sheened. He drops his head into your chest. “Fuck. Fuckkkk, I love you so much, princess. Thank you—thank you, so much.”

You don’t know why he’s thanking you. You don’t have the cognitive function to worry about that. Your mind has gone to two things: the growls and whines that rumble and tear from his chest, and the frightening tightness that only goes more dangerous. Your chest tightens—it feels as though, if he feeds that hungry beast gnawing deep down in your belly with any more of what he’s doing now, it will snap and take you down in its wake. Warbled cries crawling up your throat, you arch your back up into his chest to try and dig your hips into the floor, away from the bliss and the power of it.

“No,” he says, cursing. “No—don’t run from it. Don’t… Baby, please take what I’m giving you. It’s gonna be alright.”

Pushing back on the dark throes of the tide as it creeps up over your shoulders and sends shocks through your body, the hair on the back of your neck rising with the effort, you choke. Beomgyu takes a hand down the seam of your bodies and rolls your aching clit. They’re succinct and intentional—pressure right on the sensitive underside, sending your belly rippling as he pairs it with a few more sharp, more meaningful thrusts.

You see white. It’s white and hot. You are the sun, beaming and writhing like stardust. You curve off the floor once more, raking nails down the lengths of his back. Are you even making sound? You don’t know; you can’t hear it past the ringing piercing sharp in your ears. You shake beneath him, cunt gripping him frantically with flutters of your walls. 

He grunts, voice strained and shaking as he begins to follow his own release.  “Holy shit—look at you. You’re so f-filthy. So pretty, cumming on me.”

You bare each brush of his cock against your still twisting walls, trembling as he fucks you through your orgasm. Your thighs jump and your toes curl, and it’s all too much, but not enough. He needs to come tumbling over the edge right along with you—if he comes with you, it doesn’t seem so hard. You chant his name, smooth voice gone hoarse.

Stilling inside you, he whines, “Shi—it.” A war wages behind his eyes for a long second before he slips his cock from you with a wet, squelching pop, strings of your release breaking as he lays his cock on your belly. His stomach goes tight, and with one last slide of his length, slick with your mess and staining your belly, his cock jumps. He shoots all over your skin, pretty glistening spurts like ribbons a milky white. 

He sits back on his haunches, slowly rubbing himself off to give you some more and come down. Your room is quiet now, aside from your heaving chests and the buzz of something new in the air. Letting his head fall back, wet strands of spiky black hair dangle around his neck, a bead of sweat catching light as it rolls down it.

“Feel okay?” he says, looking down on you with softened eyes. He pulls cloth from his pocket, unfolding the fine fabric, and he wipes himself off your belly.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, leaning into the palm he cups your cheek with. “I’m okay.”

He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “The world didn’t explode, did it?” he says.

You share a stolen laugh with him, feeling every last honey wave receding from the spot between your thighs. The world hadn’t ended, and yet, in every way, it had. Savoring the abated rises and falls of his chest and the content sagging of his shoulders, your belly tightens anew. 

What happens now, when everything else has been a lie? When you don’t believe that you can survive that lie for any longer?

❆

So many hands work on you. One of your ladies in waiting laces you up in the back, and another works on your hair even while you stand, and one bounces a wintry, snow-kissed rouge over the plush of your cheeks. 

Yesterday, your world changed. And today, you’re expected to go on living in it.

When Beomgyu slipped out from your room last night after hours of holding each other under the covers, indulging in your ability to touch, you let your heart crack in two. You shouldn’t have. Why had you let yourself think that it was going to end up anything other than like this? You, getting prettied up to be sent away with your expecting husband, and the dreams you’d let build up to the clouds in the prince’s arms all shattered on the floor at your feet.

What else can you do? Loving Beomgyu freely is out of the question. Your parents would laugh right in your face, or maybe lock you away and make even more sure that you never get to see him again.

You try to burn the image of his eyes into your memory. Black, big and round and cunning all the while. You commit the broadness of his shoulders, and the pretty straight line of his nose in profile, and the pink plushness of his lips, and the little freckles you’d discovered yesterday, and the sound of his voice in your ear, and the feel of his touch on your skin, too.

“We’ll leave you until it’s time to come collect you,” a Lady says, bowing at the waist to you as the others finish up, tying the fastening of your dress up quick and sprinkling their final touches over you before following her out.

Your room goes utterly quiet. More quiet than it’s ever felt.

Dragging your limbs over to your bed, you let yourself fall onto it despite all the care they’d taken to get your skirts right. Resting your cheek to your palm, you let your eyes fall closed as you memorize the feel of your own bed, too.

When you flutter them open, there’s something peeking out from the pillow across from you. You furrow your brows and reach for it.

The paper is folded up with haste, torn from the edge of somewhere else and scribbled on with a quick hand. How long has that been there, without you noticing? Pushing yourself up from the bed, careful to at least maintain the smoothness of your hair, you unfold it.

ℳ𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝓉 𝒮𝑤𝑎𝑛 ℒ𝑎𝑘𝑒. 

Your soul comes back to life and seeps through your bloodstream. Sitting there for a few moments, idle at the largeness of what you’re about to do, you loose a breath. 

And then, you curl your hand around it, shove yourself up in a flurry of white, crystalline skirts, and you go.

The curious faces of the palace hands you pass do not stop you, nor does the morning’s bite as you find your way outside, nor does the almost-slip over ice, and absolutely nothing else stops you as you run. Is he still going to be there when you make it?

God, please let him be there. Don’t let this be almost.

Fists full of the abrasive fabric of your skirts and darting by barren bushes and trees, you do not stop until you clear the little tree line and the lake stands vast and frosty ahead of you.

When Beomgyu spots you, and you spot his figure against the background of the lake crisp in the morning, the sweet cooing of the birds and the rest of the bustle falls away. None of it compares.

“You came,” he says, dragging his feet through the snow until he’s right in front of you, his features elegant once more in the clear morning haze. “I didn’t think you would.”

You reach up to dust away snowflakes resting on his hair. It’s an excuse to touch him—that’s all you find yourself wanting to do, now. Brows pinching, you say, “Why?”

“I don’t know. I just… was scared.”

“No, no, I came,” you say, feeling now the bare expanse of your arms. You run your hands up and down them. Heart in atrophy all the while feeling full just being here with him, you add, “Why did you want to meet here?”

The world is serene for a few long moments as he just looks at you, his gaze searching. “Don’t marry him. Don’t leave with him.”

You know where he’s going with this already. Letting your dress fall from your hands, the one they’d fashioned you in to do exactly that, you say, “And do what?”

“Be with me. Marry me. Be my wife,” he says, the lines of his face solemn. “Let’s elope and find a corner of the world that’s just ours, so that we will never have to hear another word from them again. Let’s just… be together. Finally.”

Chest swelling with something so hopeful that it’s painful,  reality comes with its pin point and pop it. “Is that really what you want? You’ll take me, even though I’m promised to somebody else?”

His lip curls as though the thought were detestable. “What the fuck is a dowry to this? To the approval of the fates? The world could try snuff that fact out with whatever they’ll try, and a man could offer your parents a dowry of all its money, and still, you’d be mine. No matter what, our souls belong to each other.” His hand is frozen against your cheek. He’s been out here waiting for you for so long. “I’d take you, promised to another man. I’d take you no matter how you are; in a thousand different lives, I’d have you each time.”

That’s all you need to hear: that you are cherished for more than just your nature, but for yourself. That he loves you unendingly and undyingly, and all you have to do is leave by his side. You’ve already left it all behind—thrown any attachment to the wind, because truly, what is that to this? You don’t know where you’ll go, and you think Beomgyu hasn’t a clue either. But you’ll find that somewhere together. 

Together, your half sings. His answers with a thrilling beat.

“This time,” he says, eyes blazing with conviction. You know he feels the tug, too. “We got it right.”

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✎୭ ashlynn's note MY SHAYLAAAAA. MY SHAYLAAAAAAA!

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[laiahernandeeezzz]

Hello lovely human,

could u write Yelena X reader. The reader is Natashas bestie and they meet after the events of endgame. Nat and Y/n are living together and Yelena joins them. Y/n and Yelena are slowly falling for each other and Nat is just like third wheeling or teasing them xdd

This took me quite long, and I had to split it in two... I hope you enjoy this first bit

******

FALLING SLOWLY

******

Pairing: Yelena Belova x fem!reader

Words: 1.8K

******

Living with a trained spy is, at least, curious. Natasha Romanoff was a peculiar individual, with weird mores. It wasn’t strange to find the red-head at 4 am fully awake, living for a run or having breakfast to start her day. On the other hand, Y/n still had, minimum, three to four more hours of sleep.

However, they understood each other perfectly. Chores were shared thoughtfully, Natasha not being able to get near the kitchen -she was capable of burning water-, and Y/n was forbidden near the washing machine -she had turned more than one white piece of clothing into another completely different colour. They had been sharing a home for years, but then a purple alien decided to blow up the compound, and they decided to buy a flat for themselves. 

******

“Y/n… My precious friend, my favourite hero, my super talented cook” Natasha said in a singing voice as she entered the kitchen area, where Y/n was making pancakes for breakfast. As it was a Sunday, Natasha gave herself the pleasure to sleep in a bit. 

“Stop that… What do you want? I don’t have Wanda’s ability to read your mind, but I know you well enough to know you want something”

“What? No” Y/n gave her an unimpressed look, “Okay, fine… So you know my sister Yelena, right? She was freeing some widows, and she just returned from the blip… We’ve been apart for so long, she has nowhere to go…” Y/n continued mixing the pancake mix, but raised her eyes to meet her friend’s ones. 

“Can you go straight to the point please, this isn’t like you” Natasha sighed, feeling caught up, looking like a kid that had just broken a plate. 

“Alright… I wanted to ask you if she can come live here with us? We have a spare room, she is nice, most of the time” the last part she mumbled, but kept eye contact with her roommate. The spy relaxed when she saw Y/n’s lips forming a wide smile.

“Nat, you could’ve just said that… Of course, she can come, I’m excited to meet her” Y/n went around the kitchen aisle to hug her friend quickly. 

“Great, because she’ll be here in thirty minutes, thank you” Astonished, and with wide eyes, Y/n separated from Natasha, looking at her shocked. 

“What? Oh, fuck you. What would you have done if I said no?”

“You forget that I also know you, you are too good to say no” Y/n returned to her task, shaking her head in disbelief, while Natasha went to prepare the spare room for Yelena.

Y/n decided to take a shower so she didn’t smell like pancakes when Yelena arrived. She also changed her clothes to something more presentable, and put come concealer on. When she got out, she heard her friend talking to someone with a very thick accent. That must be Yelena, she thought, while taking a deep breath and heading towards them.

The first thing she noticed of the blonde girl was that deep, husky laugh, as well as her voice. Once Yelena was fully in her sight, she could take her traits completely. She was quite tiny, but you could tell she was strong anyway, her hair was long, falling in waves onto her shoulder, she had the cutest round nose, and rosy cheeks. And as soon as they locked eyes, Y/n felt her breathing stop. Yelena’s eyes were the most beautiful shade of green, dots of what looked like gold tainted them.

Natasha was quickly introducing them, a small smirk on her face as she took in her friend’s shook. “Sestra, this is Y/n, my friend and roommate. Y/n this is Yelena, my baby sister”

“It is a pleasure to meet you” Y/n felt in some kind of trance, not being quite able to take her eyes off the smaller woman. You’re being creepy, stop it, her mind screamed at her, but she didn’t put any attention to it. What she did put her attention on was that accent, that now that she was closer, it was making her feel things that she didn’t want to acknowledge.  

“Your accent is so cool” Eyes widened. Y/n’s face flushed in red, Natasha was trying so hard to not laugh, and she could’ve sworn Yelena’s cheeks were a bit more rosy than they were before. Well, she could’ve if she wasn’t so mortified. "I mean… It’s obviously a pleasure to meet you too… Who wants some breakfast?” 

The blonde girl let out a loud “yes, please” and they headed to the sofa -they weren’t quite fond of eating on tables-. Y/n held herself back trying to calm down her pounding heart, but her roommate didn’t seem to think she had suffered embarrassment enough, “Stop mindfucking my sister in your head and come eat!” With a groan, and an annoyed expression, she joined the other two women, the frown on her face disappearing when she saw the two sisters together and laughing again.

******

Living with two sisters was, at least, interesting. They didn’t fight a lot, but when they did, the whole building shook. The worst part is that mostly those fights were because of stupid -in Y/n’s opinion- stuff. What to eat, who had to clean the bathroom, who chose what to watch on the TV… They were usually short, loud fights, but they had been fighting for twenty minutes, and Y/n couldn’t take it any more.

“That’s enough!” Finally, they shut up, looking at Y/n surprised. She didn’t tend to get in the middle of their arguments. “You’ve been fighting for almost half an hour over who will do the dishes, don’t worry I’ll do it, but please, lock yourselves in your rooms, because this is getting out of control.

The sisters looked ashamed, but knew that saying anything else wouldn’t help, so they left. Y/n headed to the kitchen, angry at her friends. She loved them, truly, but this was getting exhausting. Y/n knew that living with other people could be tough, but their fights were just ridiculous. 

She had been cleaning for a few minutes when some footsteps came behind her. “I really don’t want to talk right now”.

“I just wanted to apologize to you” She didn’t have to turn around to know it was the blonde girl. Y/n would recognize that voice anywhere, that accent constantly running in her mind. The taller woman had accepted that she may or may not have some feelings towards Yelena, not that she was ever telling her friend that. Especially after knowing her for just a few weeks. 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you, but it was getting absurd” She sighed and turned around to face the blonde, only to find her looking down, a sad frown on her face.

“I know it sounds like an excuse, but living with someone after so many years being alone it’s weird, hard” Y/n slightly knew their story, Natasha telling her when they found each other again, and their mission to bring down the Red Room.

“Hey, Lena? Don’t worry, it’s just sometimes I get triggered by shouts. My parents were constantly fighting when I was little, and I just hate it” Y/n felt a Yelena move to be closer, taking her hand, and stroking her finger on her knuckles. “I’ll try to do better I promise you” The Russian said, as Y/n hugged her, softly muttering a thank you.

Yelena then offered to help Y/n, so they cleaned the rest of the plates, doing small talk. What the girls didn’t notice was a certain redhead looking at them, with a small smile, watching at how the younger women laughed, Y/n pushing the blonde’s shoulder, while the latter rolled her eyes. 

******

And Yelena did what she promised, fights minimum after two months. Bickering was still there, but most of the time it was more joking and teasing than serious. On the other hand, Yelena and Y/n entered a curious dynamic. They understood each other pretty well; shopping was their alone time without Natasha, not that she bothered them, but it was nice to have it. 

Y/n had accepted that she did have feelings towards the blonde, but didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, so she never said anything. However, she wasn’t sure that the older woman didn’t also feel something, teasing and flirting was quite common, coming from her, but Y/n desperately convinced herself that it was just how Yelena was.  

Those thoughts were running through her mind almost all the time, thankfully shower time let her rest from them, music blasting out the speakers of her phone. When she got out, she wrapped a towel around her body, it barely covered her butt, but she was sure her roommates were in their rooms. 

She headed to her dormitory, humming the song she had been listening to without paying any attention to her surroundings until she bumped into something, making her slip with the water she was leaving on the floor, as well as her towel. Y/n expected to feel the floor against her back, but it never came.

An arm was wrapped around her waist, holding her close so she wouldn’t fall. A whimper came out of Y/n, when she locked eyes with the person in front of her. Yelena had her eyes widened, her hand hot against the younger woman’s back. They stayed in shock for a few seconds, but when the blonde returned to her senses, quickly separated from Y/n, picking the towel and handing it to the other girl.

Y/n muttered a soft thank you, while she walked -more like run- to her bedroom, closing the door behind her and resting against it. Her body was aroused by the thought of Yelena’s hands purposely running through her naked body. She felt like she needed to take a cold shower this time, but she wasn’t coming out of her room until dinner time, not feeling prepared to face the blonde girl again. What she didn’t know was that Yelena was in the same state as her, she was seated on the end of her bed, staring intensely at her hand, the feeling of Y/n’s back still lingering on her fingers.

A few hours later, three women were eating in silence, the younger ones looking at their plates as if they were the most interesting thing in the world, while the older burned her gaze into their skulls, taking their faces. “What is going on with you two?”

And, finally, the girls looked up. They quickly glanced at each other, cheeks red instantly. “Nothing” both of them said, and Natasha for once didn’t push any further, enjoying the girls’ embarrassment. 

[part one]

[earthtooz]

hello!! still new to tumblr so I have to idea how long ago that post was but I saw your requests were open!! can you please please please please pretty please do something do something fluffy with rin from blue lock??? i need to cure my craving for this man and your fics are like a pond of water in the middle of the desert 🙏

say no more fam, i gotchu. and thank you anon 😫😫 you are so kind to me for praise i do not deserve, but ask and i shall deliver!

cw: fluff! food, swearing, bad writing, unrealistic scenario but like fuck that give me the fluff.

"the hell are you doing in my kitchen?"

itoshi rin turns around rather nonchalantly, seemingly unalarmed by the fact that you caught him in your kitchen, in your apartment, a place he wasn't supposed to be.

"i'm baking something," he replies simply, not even blinking once at your dumbfounded expression.

upon entering your house, you were ready for a relaxing thursday night so you could prepare to repeat the same day again. what you weren't ready for was the sight of foreign slacks- that clearly weren't yours, at the getabako by the genkan, and you see that your household slippers had also disappeared from their usual spot.

then you hear noises from the kitchen.

a little alarmed, you don't know whether to call the police or not, then, before your concerns could be answered, you see itoshi rin's familiar face peak out from the kitchen.

what the fuck. why was he wearing your slippers?

"oh, welcome home y/n," he says very casually before disappearing again.

what the fuck?

now that you've returned to your senses just a little and finally registered the intruder-slash-athlete in your kitchen, you walk up to stand beside him, peering down at his work.

"what are you making?" you ask.

"jam sugar cookies."

"that sounds good."

he's already formed a dough at this point, kneading it on a floured surface with quite a bit of skill.

noting his talent in the craft of baking, you can't help but wonder why he decided to do it in your kitchen.

"y'know when i gave you my spare key, it was for emergency purposes and because i trust you not to do dumb shit, unlike everyone else on the team," you point out with a sigh.

the dark-haired only shrugs, now breaking the dough into smaller balls.

"why my kitchen?"

"i don't know, i wanted to spend time with you. i thought you would be back from work since practice ended ages ago."

you ignore the butterflies in your stomach. "couldn't have done that over coffee? and i was working overtime today."

once again, he doesn't answer. itoshi rin is a great conversationalist, what a riveting exchange you're having right now.

you don't see the way his face flushes from his shyness, embarrassed to be caught in this situation.

"can i at least help?"

"sure," agrees rin, moving away. "break the dough into 12 even sized pieces."

you oblige as he goes over to wash his hands, swiftly cleaning up the mess around you whilst you work in silence, pretending like your heart wasn't racing because the itoshi rin was in your apartment with you, alone. the effect a man could have on you was unnerving.

"i think i'm done," you finally announce and the soccer player looks over your shoulder with a satisfied hum, a noise that you can feel in your upper spine. why was he standing so close? you can practically feel him hovering behind you.

"i can take over from here," he says.

"you sure?"

"yeah- actually, i made a pot of fresh strawberry jam on the stove, can you bring it here?"

he made jam? is there another man more perfect than him?

listening to his instructions, you carefully set the now-cooled pot on the marble counter. "i didn't strike you as a baker," you mutter, going over to the sink to wash your hands.

"it's fun. i like it."

"you like sweets?"

"i don't mind them. my favourite are ones that aren't too sweet, but i indulge in sugary ones too."

you hum in acknowledgement, watching him for a few moments longer before the urge to change into more comfortable clothes appears again like an itch you can't scratch. "you sure you don't need my help? i need to go take a shower."

"go."

"wow, okay. i know where i'm not needed."

he doesn't say anything in response, not that you were expecting him to when you made your way out of the kitchen.

twenty minutes and a refreshing shower later, you emerge feeling a lot cleaner and rejuvenated. rin was still in the kitchen, now on his phone as he leans against the counter, waiting for the cookies to bake. when he notices you, he puts his device away and greets you properly.

"would you like to stay for dinner?" you ask, ignoring the way his eyes dip to your exposed collarbones and how the water from your shower drips down them.

if you paid too much attention to it you might explode.

"it won't be a bother right?" he asks, meeting your gaze once more. when you shake your head, he agrees. "then what's for dinner?"

"i was planning on katsu curry, that okay?"

"more than."

thank goodness you bought fresh vegetables yesterday. "how are the cookies?"

"good. they're almost done."

"can i try some after?"

"no."

the audacity. he uses your kitchen and won't spare you any? what ever happened to taxes?

whilst you're cutting the potatoes and carrots, the oven timer calls out to let you know that the cookies are finished. rin swiftly takes them out, hums in approval and lets the batch chill.

you ask him if he can prepare the rice and other ingredients whilst you prepare the pot and the sauce. it's a perfect dance of teamwork, and despite your kitchen being not the biggest, you and rin work perfectly together. sometimes in silence, sometimes speaking about mundane things that don't truly matter.

the domesticity of it all makes you sick, and of course, increases your unescapable yearning for rin. you're so infatuated with him it's annoying.

once dinner is plated, you both eat in the comfort of your kitchen bench, under the warm lighting of your home.

you didn't think you'd be ending your day like this but the complaints die in your mind before they can even be manifested. chatter is exchanged as if you don't see each other during the day, and even when both your bowls are scraped empty, neither make the move to clean up and break out of this little, precious bubble you've created.

the sun has fully set now. rin should be going back home instead of answering some 'would you rather' question you suddenly created, and although you ridicule him for his choice, the best he cracks is a small smile in amusement.

when you first met itoshi rin on your first day on the job, you didn't think you'd get along with him as well as the rest of the team but, you were proven wrong very quickly. on team dinners, nights out, coffee runs, rin always joined them despite having seeming like the most antisocial man ever, and it just became easy to spend time with him.

from then on marked your downfall.

chats in your office became a regularity, his tendency to stay late for extra practice and your tendency to stay late to finish outstanding work made you both excellent commute partners, and his punctuality and assertiveness made him an excellent team captain to rely on.

somewhere between the carpools, mundane conversations on green fields, and water filler station visits, you fell for him.

you just hope rin will let you down easily.

when the clock strikes 10:30 and you let out your first yawn, rin takes it as his sign to leave. productive in cleaning up and wishing you a goodnights rest, he's gone with a soft smile and an even softer gaze.

as your front door shuts, you feel a little empty at the silence that follows his absence.

the next morning when you arrive at work, there's a little more pep in your step due to the delightful night before. when you walk into your office after greeting the members of the team who were already there, you stop short at the sight of something unfamiliar on top of your desk.

rounding the table, your heart skips a beat in a nauseating combination of nervousness, yearning, and flattery.

a box of sugar cookies with jam pressed in the shape of a heart, sit pretty on your desk; next to a note.

go on a date with me? ─ itoshi rin

[j2zara]

hello janelle zukkacore j2zara, its a long time coming but i would like to be a part of clone enjoyers anonymous bc im v interested in their dynamics and i really like ur drawings of the clones :3

i am however, overwhelmed on where to start learning abt them and i was hoping u could point me to the right direction since i pretty much see u as the president of clone enjoyers thank u so much ily 💖

HI FRIEND WELCOME TO THE CLONE ENJOYERS!!!!! WE'D LOVE TO HAVE YOU! THIS WAS GETTING WIELDY SO I SPLIT IT INTO TWO PARTS

PART ONE + TWO OF CLONE LORE IS HERE

Part 1 is basics of Clone Lore. Part 2 is me shamlessly reccing my fanfic to understand the context. Tbh I'd start with part 1 first or the doc

I've also compiled Clone Lore into a Google doc: it contains all the information from the first post and this post. I might include elaborations later (i was too exhausted to get fully into LJ3. But i feel bad neglecting it).

Anyway. I'm probably gonna link Clone Primer into my pinned post so that people can come back to it.

And I wanna emphasize. I 100% get how insular this is so if you're confused please feel free to ask!!! I have no problem explaining things. I love to talk. I talk way too much. Ask anyone. b/c like. I feel bad that this is gonna look super intimidating.

SO here's the rest of Clone Primer

PART 3: CLONE PRIMER - ELABORATION ON THE BASICS + WEIRD INSULAR INFO + ME RECAPPING FIC CONCEPT STUFF

[I WOULD SKIP THESE OR COME BACK TO THEM LATER IF YOU WANNA GO INTO THE FICS UNSPOILED BUT IF THE SUMMARY IS SUPPLANTING READING THE FIC GO RIGHT AHEAD]

J2 EDITION (aka ALMOST LORE) - aka "BLUEJAY"

J2's personality originates from I'm Almost Me Again (He's Almost You), and was the first one to be developed

J2 is devoted, sweet, earnest, hard-working, anxious, desperate to prove himself. He can have a slight acidic streak (his favorite way to rebel is smashing Jace's stuff) but is very preoccupied with being useful.

He reads as slightly younger than Jace b/c he's a clone, he basically just started existing yesterday, and I jokingly refer to him as "25 year old green new hire coded jace" (and also as Born Sexy Yesterday Jace) bc rewatching Freshman Year, I was surprised by how young and inexperienced Jace sounded, and I feel like that detail about his character (that imo makes his situation very pitiable) was really lost in translation in Junior Year. Because he is young to the world and kind of naive, he is very easy to impress and exploit

However, he is still clever and good at magic. Simulacra in dnd don't regain spell slots, but J2 was the first clone to figure out that as a sorcerer, he could convert sorcery points into spell slots, extending his utility to Jace and Porter and basically sparing himself from being dispelled.

J2 is initially very anxious about his purpose / survival. As a clone, he knows he has an expiration date and is desperate to make himself invaluable. The sorcery points solution to the spell slots is part of this.

J2's innate talent is part of what caught Porter's eye. He was the first clone to meet Porter, and Porter (and to some degree, Jace too) laud him as basically like. Jace's Precious Last Gift to Porter. He's often seen as remarkable or special, but its ambiguous whether that specialness is about j2 on his own terms or if he is special as a manifestation of jace's talent.

J2 is the one who is the intermediary between Jace, Porter, and the other Clones. He takes on the most responsibility, and interacts the most with Porter. Spending a lot of time with Porter, they two of them became very close

J2 is the one who loves Porter deeply enough to be very committed to The Plan. He thinks Porter is worthy of ascension, godhood, even if it means Porter will eventually leave him.

J2 had a long, deeply committed affair w/ porter that culminated in them sleeping together and J2 taking devil's honey that kinda rewired his brain and fucked him up. J2 was very much in love with Porter until he found out that Porter killed Jace and brought him back to life, but the devils honey tricks him into forgetting that fear.

The lie he told himself on devil's honey is "I want this. I want everything. Porter deserves everything". It basically rewires his brain to convince himself that he wants whatever happens to him, whether it be good or bad. Even if Porter got back together with jace, he would want that too, because Porter deserves everything, right? Everything he wants. Me and Jace. Just jace. Even if J2 becomes a literal or emotional sacrifice for the betterment orf porter or the cause. Whatever it is, i will be happy

Right after this happens, jace calls porter and agrees to enfold back into the Plan, but is not going to get back together w/ Porter. J2's fate is ambiguous, but emotionally, Porter has pretty much cast him aside with the hope that he will get back together with Jace. Also, b/c Jace is back in the picture, his status as the Last Precious Gift from Jace is in jeopardy and he becomes about as disposable as the other clones (however, usually when we clonepost, J2 is still top of the pecking order just below Jace)

POST-ALMOST: as far as Clone Lore goes - J2 tends to live in this state where he doesn't just worship Porter, but what we call the "Starbreaker Pantheon". He reveres the jaceporter relationship b/c he finds it to be profound and meaningful even if it's not always Good. Jace also occupies a spot in his devotion as like. This figure he is deeply envious of and could never measure up to, but also as someone he knows must be worthy of respect b/c that's who Porter wants, right? He wants what Jaceporter has b/c he sees Porter's love for Jace as like, something true and intimate and something he's only ever gotten a sliver of, treated as a replacement. He wants to be Jace, but he also wants Porter to be happy, so if Porter is happy with Jace he can find a way to worship Jace, too.

I ALMOST FORGOT TO MENTION: in Almost, Porter gave J2 the nickname "Bluejay". This is b/c J2's favorite color is blue, which makes him distinct from Jace. He is a very cozy boy who loves cardigans and sweaters and blue nail polish. Yes. Blue Jay is two words. We're gonna breeze past that. J2 fell in love with his new nickname, desperate to see it as a way for Porter to finally recognize him as different from Jace. If you see the clone enjoyers refer to J2 as Bluejay, this is why.

J3 EDITION (aka some Biggest Lie Lore etc)

J2's personality was developed in Almost, and I'd say J3's personality was crystalized in Biggest Lie, but technically J3's personality started as a joke. I said offhand one time in reply to another mutual that in my head, Porter was 100% noncommittally flirting with J3 the entire time he was having this very deep and torrid love affair with J2, and J3 sort of. Became the our beloved little slut as a result of that

J3 is flirtatious, thrillseeking, playful, manipulative, charming, easily bored, fatalistic / borderline parasuicidal, and deeply alientated from his sense of personhood. J2 spent a long time wishing to be loved by Porter on his own terms, as his own person, before finally succumbing. However, J3 is happy (well, convinced himself he happy) to be treated as Jace's cypher.

J3 is often treated as the Most Disposable of the clones. J2 is the intermediary and the Precious Gift. J3 is usually left with grunt work, and anything dangerous is usually foisted upon him to spare J2. He is the one who goes with Porter to cast enlarge-reduce in the woods, and he is the one that used to be spellcaster support for Porter if they ever needed to go anywhere dangerous.

J3 being treated as disposable is why he has no sense of identity or a sense of self preservation, unlike J2. Porter never spends time outside of necessity (until they start screwing. we'll get to that), so nobody has ever really bothered to get to know J3 besides the other clones. J2 is the one that Porter treasures, so J3 views himself as the shield for j3, the disposable one, the one who is likely first to die.

Because of this, he is a thrillseeker, desperate to cram as much living into his short half-life as possible (this includes trying to fuck anyone and everyone in elmville). The experiences do not have to be positive, he wants everything as long as its exciting.

During Almost, J3 and Porter were casually flirting. J3 would die before admitting it, but spending time with Porter was his favorite part of the day. Post Almost, when Jace got folded back into the plan but was not back together with porter, that's when Porter started hooking up with J3. With J3 perfectly willing to let Porter project all his want for jace and frustration at jace onto him because hey, he's getting the porter hookup and not jace, right?

J3 always threads this tenuous line of actively seeking out experiences while also passively being the recipient of other people's fantasies. unlike J2, he embraces being a jace cypher for Porter because that's how he gets porter at his most heightened. J3 often refuses to articulate what he wants, instead letting people do whatever they want to him. He is terrified of being seen as needy, terrified of being rejected for who he is.

At his best he is charismatic and charming, but at his worst he can be dramatic, whiny, desperate for enrichment, actively manipulative and cruel. His best quality and greatest flaw that he inherited from jace and took to the extreme is that he is generous and egoless; as much as he desires to be the center of attention, as much as he can push and push, at the end of the day, he gives people exactly what they need from him at his own expense

J3 rejects the intimacy with Porter that J2 seeks out and can never really achieve because he always falls short of being Jace. J3 convinces himself that he got the best deal out of anyone b/c he doesn't have to deal with the mess of attachment and heartbreak. However, deep down he is deeply jealous of J2 and Jace.

Post-Biggest Lie: Jace and Porter get back together in IYWD, in which Porter drops the clones, including J3. However, in cloneposting, sometimes the clones still have like a weird undefined thing with Porter and Jace for the sake of us having a fun time and fucking around.

BONUS LORE: Not technically canon to Biggest Lie, but J3 is closest to J4 out of everyone in Jaceporter + the clones dynamic. Because J2 is the precious favorite, J3 n J4 developed a weird allyship because they were the matching spares. They are kinda primed to be each other's biggest supporters and biggest weaknesses tbh. J3 provides J4 a spot of actual levity and pleasure in a half-life she otherwise considers to be miserable. J4 recognizes J3's personhood, gives voice to injustices he faces, and likes him for who he is and not who he pretends to me. They are best friends. They flirt. Sometimes they're in love, but like. we'll get to that

J4 EDITION - (aka Electra / Ellie)

J4 doesn't have as much of a... hefty source for characterization. i really hesitate to call things i write a primary source b/c i don't like to claim ownership over the clones it feels weird and wrong for something that is supposed to be fun and is already fanfiction. But i will say the things i write are. Substantial sources if you want clone context bc they're hefty projects lol.

J4 does not have a Porter-centric fic. This may change in the future but, the reason for this is b/c she is the only clone that hates Porter so subjecting her to that is. A much more convoluted task. Closest thing she has is Stay / Leave which is j3/j4 which we sometimes call LJ3 (and the two fics written by iaus!!!! which are fan fucking tastic!)

J4's personality is the result of. Looking at J2 n J3 and going. Ok what is the third point in a data set. If J2 worships Porter, the antithesis is someone who hates Porter, right? (and J3 is a middle ground)

J4 is marginally more loose in her characterization, but I would say she is... Rageful, bitter, driven, rebellious, ruthless, and steadfast in her beliefs, whether they are good or bad. She feels trapped by her circumstances, unlike J2 who has learned to love his gilded cage, and J3 who has accepted his fate and is basically trying to fuck hard until he dies in an explosion. She is determined to carve out her own path and define her own personhood, what we jokingly refer to as her "escaping the narrative"

Unlike J3 who has no problem being a cypher for jace and has completely neglected his own personhood, and J2 who desperately tried to get porter to recognize him for the person he was before succumbing and submitting, willing to be whatever The Plan and Porter needed of him, occupying this weird middle ground, J4 wants nothing to do with jace. She is determined to be her own person. She is disgusted by the limitations placed on her by being "of jace"

You're probably wondering why J4 is a girl. This was a me-headcanon that became fairly mass accepted, but I have joked that J4 is the only clone to achieve transgenderism. I do use she/her pronouns predominantly for J4, but it's mainly out of habit, i also am not super precious about it, nor do i really care what anyone else does with her. I don't necessarily see being a binary trans girl as the only way to interpret her character, but J4 being a girl it is the common way she is perceived at this point this deep into clone lore. As someone who also has a lot of gender feelings, i do see the need to define oneself and create your own identity to be very transgender tho, so i do think it's fitting

More of a fandom joke thing, J4 loves knives. We love when she gets stabby. There are also a lot of jokes abt her stealing jace's credit cards, his SSN, fantasizing abt setting his house on fire

She is preoccupied with the ways in which she might be similar to Porter because she views him as the embodiment of everything she hates, but she is the clone most like him. She is afraid of her own capacity for rage, her instincts for violence, for control, to own, to take, to posses, to dominate. She wants to fight to liberate, for what's right, but she worries her fight is just to be the person holding the boot at someone's throat rather than the person under the boot.

She worries her impotence and rebellion makes her unpalatable and unlovable. Because she can't really make any meaningful change in their circumstances, wouldn't it just be easier to submit? She worries she's denying herself pleasure for nothing. Even if she doesn't have a choice, wouldn't it easier to be submit and be happy, rather than fight and be miserable?

We also joke about Bad Timeline J4, who is equally as cruel and ruthless, but is devoted to Porter. There's no real content abt her, but its just a make believe scenario where she did finally stop fighting and agree to love Porter, in which she is the one most possessive of him, determined to be his attack dog right hand.

As articulated brilliantly by bambi, Jace, j3, and j2 are pretty archetypal charisma casters in that they are charming and make themselves easy to love. J4 wields her personality like a sledgehammer, but that is charisma, too. Her presence is always felt

She was originally very prideful. Determined to be different. Determined to be the one to make it out. Her pride covers up for a deep self hatred, especially as the expiration date of the clones ticks nearer and nearer, and she views herself to be a failure.

Her only soft spots are for the other clones, but especially J3. She pities J2, essentially viewing him as brainwashed into accepting their lot on life, but because of that pity, she does harbor some kindness and tenderness for him because of that. But J3? J4 bets on losing dogs, and she loves her losing dog so much and she would never admit it, but everyone can see it. If it wasn't for him, she probably would have ditched this whole situation.

This is an Esme Special aka @neerdowellnarrator, but J4 b/c she wants to make a point about not being Jase does choose her own name. J4's chosen name is Electra b/c of the greek myth comparisons and her basically Escaping A The Cycle. She goes by "Ellie" for short. J3 sometimes calls her El / Elle. We still refer to her as J4 sometimes for clarity's sake. Whatever stage she is in when it comes to even having a name is very dependent on whoever is depicting her anyway.

PART 4: Wait, so are J3 and J4... In love?

Yeah. it's like a whole Thing. This is a pretty recent development. I'll save it for the doc. To be elaborated on soon, I promise. It's called LJ3, i have a whole tag for it if it grips you.

PART 5: ADDITIONAL SILLY CLONE ENJOYERISMS (with links)

J2Porter Vegas Wedding Roleplay Weekend: a Jess Special! Based on this post! Elaborated on here! Jess aka @hauntedwizardmoment has more thoughts here! But I have a whole tag dedicated to it. Gist is that even after Jace n Porter get back together, Porter still devotes special days to the clones to give them Porter Time, and J2's day is an entire weekend where they booked a hotel in Bastion City. And during that time, they're basically roleplaying "What if we got spontaneous hitched in vegas" where Porter books out the honeymoon sweet, and J2 wears a tacky wedding dress, and the whole weekend is just devoted to treating J2. I'm not kidding, if i think too hard abt j2porter vegas roleplay weekend, I might cry.

Jace put the Clones are in the Torment Nexus: based on a post made by Jess again. Makes me laugh my ass off. If we say the clones are never escaping the torment nexus, this is why

J2Jace Blue Lingerie Gift: Sometimes J2 deserves the niceys, so Jace gives him a treat. NSFT warning lol. The post is a Jess Special / Bambi @iaus / @innskeep Special. I drew J2 something inspired by the getup once.

J2 is goodboy modest tradcath jace / J3 is college casual hookup clubbing era jace / j4 is grunge jace: Just headcanons for the different Jace's style of dress. They're all different eras or common headcanons within the fandom b/c Jace fashions eras. J2 is a bit modest, he likes cardigans and sweaters and for things to be comfortable and oversized (but to be fair, he's not AS modest as goodboy jace. Goodboy ex tradcath jace is the jace backstory for IYWD btw. He's the child of one sol worshiping parent and one galicaean worshiping parent and he is NOT ok). J3 wears a lot of form fitting clubbing outfits and hotpants and shit, Jace's wild child era. J4 wears clothes from grunge jace era which i think is a Jess Special again? Like. Old band tees and flannels and lots of black.

J4 is constantly name dropping obscure alt bands that play tuesday night in the parking lot of the black pit and only watches experimental indie horror movies and foreign war films shot from the perspective of pigeon (said w so much love, that concept fucks)

J2 Amy Dunne / J3 Cool Girl / J4 Gone Girl Amy / Jaceprime Amazing Amy Thesis: An elaboration on Jess's Cool Girl Jace Thesis on which she wrote an awesome fic about.

The Clones are Dykes: This one is old as fuck. I made a joke ages ago abt Dyke!Jace b/c I think Dykefag!Jace / Zara is a cute ship. So if Jace is a dyke, then the clones must also be Dykes. I drew art of them once. Digging up the dyke clones posts would be a trip and they're not really indicative of their current personalities, but if you see us joking about. J2 escaping to another timeline where he is a dyke and in a committed relationship with Zara or Lucilla, that is where that comes from

"Born to Love Porter Cliffbreaker, forced to do weird menial tasks for Jaceprime": another old ass thing i said as a joke before the clones had personalities. But it does have a lot to do with j4's preoccupation w/ free will. And Jace also being remade to love porter. Life is hard when you're born to love someone and you're forced to grade papers instead! It ain't much but it's a half-life! At the same time, me positing the clones all had potential to fall in love with Porter is kinda what brought us here, so.

There's a whole host of greek myth and hadestown references we're always dragging out. Cassankarna is Persephades, Jaceporter is Orphydice. Jaceporter is Persephades, J2 is Eurydice. Jaceporter is Persephades, LJ3 is Orphydice. J2 is Iphigenia, J3 is Helen, J4 is Electra / Cassandra. J2 is also Psyche.

Putting the Clones in Game changer: A comedy au in which the Clones are improv comedians on Dropout.tv. But also it's about LJ3 being a little in love and unable to escape the narrative. Esme made Elliego n J3go which i love (aka bingo cards). Loosely based on the last time i drew Jaceporter on game changer as well

Anyway! Thank you for coming on this long winded journey of Clone Primer! If i have any other thoughts I'll add it to the doc.

[dreamii-yume]

Hello! ♥︎

I am BACK with another underrated Japanese Yandere Audio Drama ASMR recommendation for y’all~! Because this is all I’ve been doing in my spare time, I have no goddamn excuses on why I haven’t been posting much 🤡 This, my friends, is the reason why I’m so damn inactive these days lol BUT HEY—Please don’t go 🥺 This one is a real fucking gem, Darlings—I don’t understand why it has so little views on Youtube because it has everything I wanted in my hornii. There’s the plot, the smut (It’s not very explicit as to a full-on fucking, because Youtube—Just a few lewd lip sounds, that’s all 🫣 But that’s all I needed to get the neurons working) and there’s kinda some angst in there(?)

Anyway, it’s an hour-long! 🧎‍♀️ I was so happy after I was done listening to it and kinda speechless ngl ☠️ I dug hard for this gem and I’m not about to gatekeep anyone from finding it and sharing the experience (dont ask how i stumbled upon this one though, you dont wanna know how much ive been scrolling on youtube to find this, my friends 🧎‍♀️)

It’s a Yandere Audio Drama that is simply titled “Nya-chan” 🫣 Ominously adorable title, but it’ll make sense as you listened to it. As always, it doesn’t have an english translation as of now which is extremely unfortunate because I think a lot of people would’ve appreciated this more if it does—BUT THAT’S WHY IM HERE EVERYONE 👀👋

So, if you don’t mind—Allow me to spoil you all with what happened with a “brief” summary of it all ♥︎ (EDIT : THIS IS A LIE IVE BEEN WRITING THIS FOR TWO HOURS) BUT I STILL WANT YOU TO LISTEN TO THIS ART PERSONALLY, the voice actor really did a great job with it 😭 check them out, seriously.

Warning : Implied Non-Con | Implied Dub-Con | Implied Stockholm Syndrome | NTR

Kinda got way too into “translating”/“explaining” this one scene by scene so—It’s very chaotic, so that might get annoying so just a heads up lol

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

The story starts off with You (The listener UwU) meeting your fiance’s little brother for the first time and because you want to be a good future Sister-in-Law, you wanted to spend time and bond with him by partaking in his hobbies. He’s an engineer of some kind, and it seems like he’s a talented cook as well because when he found out that you’re hungry, he made you some pasta 🧎‍♀️You praised him, but he says you’re overreacting cause it’s just pasta lol he’s clearly embarrassed—He sounded like wanted to say something else (Probably wanting to cook more for you if you want ✨👀👉👈) but his brother comes in and interrupted him.

Under his breath, he says “Why does he have to be here of all times” which makes me think that this may not be the first time he knew of us…Or he just—y’know got attached that quick. (It really wasn’t specified 😭 or I might’ve just missed it somewhere 🤡) But ANYWAY, THE NEXT DAY—

You both met again, and he’s surprised that see you and where you work at because it’s close to his (?) You pointed out his office clothes, and he thought you were making fun of him, but was pleasantly surprised to hear you say that he looks good in it and he thanks you for it. Flustered, he changes the subject and ask where your fiance may be because he couldn’t get hold of him lately—It seems like he’s working overtime and he feels kinda bad that you’re going to eat dinner alone, so he sighs and invites you over to his place so he can make you something. He’s a real tsundere at this point of the audio drama, which was very cute lol But he seems like he has a soft-spot for you, because once he saw how you really look like you want to try his cooking again, he caved in quick lmao

At his home, he sarcastically praises your appetite and was impressed by the fact that you’re able to act so close woth him, despite only meeting for the few times lmao we have no shame. Your only reason was because you see him as you’re own younger brother too, and he only hums and scolds you more lol Even though he sounds like he’s all annoyed with you, he still encourages you to still eat more and stop complaining ☠️ He says he can guarantee the taste but plating is not his strongest forte lol

Then, he suddenly asks if you’re gonna contact your fiance anytime soon about this and it seems like you didn’t plan to do that—In which he scolds you again and say that you should, because he (your fiance) might think it’s weird. Again, you told him it’s fine because you’re only hanging out with him like how a big sister would with her younger brother…Here, we can hear that hint of disappointment in his voice as he whispers to himself, “…So you don’t see me as a man then.”

Of course, you didn’t quite hear what he says and asks if he can repeat that, but he says it’s nothing and went back to pressure you to continue eating because the food is getting cold.

After a while, you finally finished eating and he praises you for it…Also teasing you for looking so happy about it too along the way. He scolds you about learning how to cook for yourself sometimes, because you sound like you know what good food tastes like lol You told him that—Yeah, maybe from now on, in which he commented that you sound like someone prolonging their diet for tomorrow ☠️ and that’s the kind of person who usually don’t succeed on what they planned ☠️ someone calm this man down jesus christ, i did not to be called out like that ☠️ You asked him if he could teach you instead, but he refuses because he said he was self-taught and can’t teach for shit, so he tells you to learn it by yourself. Damn bro.

Then, this is where he shifts the conversation towards you instead—He asks where you and his brother met, in which you replied with the Cat Café he often visits and Yandere-kun doesn’t seem surprised lol His brother often invites him there, but he always refuses because he’s not good with crowds—Though he likes cats…AGAIN WITH THE WHISPERING he says “…If only I went with him at that time.” “Maybe I could’ve met you earlier than him.” BOI 👏

You asked him what he’s whispering about, and he denies saying anything like he always does and asked you to continue your love story with his brother. It seems like you met his brother when he was at his clumsiest, accidentally scaring a cat, and the cat made a mess, so you got angry with him. Because of that, you both met a second time for him to help you clean up, and things escalated from there—

Idk, Yandere-kun keeps saying wow that sounds like something out a manga—All sounds like he’s impressed and shit but I have a feeling that he’s so annoyed somehow lmao He sounds dead inside ☠️ He says something about it all probably being a “miracle of love” lmao He sounds so insulting about it 🧎‍♀️

He asks why you fell in love with his brother, like what’s so good about him? And you answered “The way he seems so silly, but is actually very reliable” or something—and somehow, he knew and understood that it had to be that reason too because he, too, knew what his brother’s strongest point is…Though, he didn’t know that girls likes those kinds of men too. He proceeds to slander you for having simple tastes ☠️ lmao

The conversation then starts to shift towards himself as he slowly begins to reveal how he feels inferior compared to him—Since his brother seems to have everything, while he’s just there on the shadows. You took notice of this and assured him that, at the very least, he’s still very kind. He’s flustered, embarrassed, scratches his head as he appreciates you for saying that.

…But HOO BOI THIS IS WHERE IT GETS INTERESTING—You then asked something about him, wondering if he, too, has someone he likes romantically. He was surprised to hear that actually, hesitates, but turns serious and says, “Yes…Yes, I do have one.”

“She’s very bright, kind, and a handful. She’s older than me, but so unreliable that I just can’t leave her alone.” He sounds incredibly embarrassed. “She eats the food I make with a big smile on her face…and it makes me really happy.”

But he suddenly sounds solemn. “…But that person is getting married next month, and I’m still in shock.” He laughs a little, but he sounds so sad 🥺 “I kept thinking, why is it not me? Maybe if I have met her earlier, maybe that could’ve been me by her side.”

“Why do I have to meet her when it’s all too late…? It’s really unfair.” 🥲

“But you know what’s worse?” He starts getting a little weird like he just fucking gave up on trying to hide his feelings lmao “The one that, that person is getting married to…is actually my own older brother. So, I don’t know what to do about that.”

OF COURSE, THAT SOUNDS SUS AF so, as an act of defending yourself against the awkwardness, you stood up from your seat and about to fuck off to oblivion, when he stops you like “Wait, hold up—Please, don’t leave 🥺” He admits that he was frustrated on the fact that people view you and your fiance as this sort of “fated couple”, and it makes him sick. It feels like his brother got something he wanted and once again, he lost. Yandere-kun admits that he doesn’t have that many friends, nor does he have a girlfriend himself, so it’s always his brother who gets all the attention. The expectation that was supposed to be his was given to his brother himself, so he hated how it’s happening again with you this time…and it feels like the universe is forcing him to give up on everything for his brother.

“…But why do you have to be so nice to me?“ It turns out he was actually trying to give up on pursuing you too, but it hurts because he doesn’t want to—Since you’re so nice to him, you spend time with him, and had praised him more than anyone has…But you only see him as a younger brother and not as a man. He felt like you asking if he has anyone he likes was the final straw, and he couldn’t help but laugh. He comments how insensitive you are 😭 Like having no self-awareness and all that shit man

But he knew that you were only trying to bond with him only because you want to have a good, healthy relationship with your soon-to-be Brother-in-Law…But that’s when he finally snaps and how that’s never gonna happen, “From the very first time we met, I’ve only seen you as a woman more than anyone else.” So, he will never see you as just Sister-in-Law, he loves you too much.

He was surprised himself to know how weak he actually is, because just thinking of you was this fucking painful and he’s pissed that he can’t even help himself…and embraces you, finally being able to touch you freely, and commenting on how nice you smell like.

“Hey…How do you think I can be freed from this pain?“ “How do you think am I supposed to give up on you?” Because he doesn’t want to give up on you, he wants you to fall in love with him as well and asks if that’s really such a bad thing.

Perhaps a little freaked out, you began to call your fiance’s name instinctively but he scolds you, “Please…don’t call anyone’s name but mine right now.” AND FUCKING SOFT KISSES YOU. He demands you to say his name, and when you hesitantly did—He’s on cloud-nine, asks you to repeat it again and again, and again as he KISSES YOU EVERYTIME.

“I can’t…I can’t take it anymore, come here.”

You obviously resists as he takes you somewhere, and he 😭 kinda politely asks you to stop struggling because he doesn’t want to be rough with you lmao He wants you to listen to him as he continues to force you to make-out with him (with slightly aggressive moaning, mind you ☠️) and keeps on obsessively (desperately) telling you that he loves you as if that shit was going to change anything lol but well—who knows 👀 foreshadowing, am i right Also he tells you that you shouldn’t hold your voice because he wants to ｈｅａｒyou loud and clear, so just keep on paying attention to him and he’ll make you feel good ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

THEN THE AUDIO FADES BECAUSE YOUTUBE 🫠 But it’s assumed that whether it’s forcefully (which is VERY MUCH likely lol) or not, he manages to get his way with you through the night 🧎‍♀️Mfcker even has the audacity to ask for permission, but I don’t think he would’ve cared if you had said no lmao ☠️

The next day (?) comes, or maybe it’s still night idk it’s not really specified BUT AFTER SEGGSY SESSION, he asks if it hurt (BITCH)—He proceeded to apologize, like seriously apologized🧎‍♀️Even he didn’t know why he resorted to forcefully taking you, despite knowing that it’s wrong. But whenever he thinks about how you’re going to be his brother’s wife soon, all he sees is red…He keeps apologizing and says he really doesn’t mean it and understands if you won’t be able to forgive him anytime soon.

…Perhaps you were guilty about the fact that you unknowingly lead his feelings on by being close to him too, you apogized in which he denies immediately—Saying you didn’t do anything wrong, and that everything is on him.

To compensate, you suggested to just simply forget everything that happened until now—But Yandere-kun doesn’t quite agree with that solution. “…Am I supposed to just forget about something that made me so happy?” He says he can’t do that, but realizes that he was being selfish again and apologized as he begrudingly agreed to do just that. “I guess it’s better than you reporting me to the police.” He said, it’s the least that he can do.

“I’ll…I’ll forget about what happened…Definitely. But just for this moment, will you stay with me?” You somehow agreed, and he hugs you tight—Whispering yet another apology.

Some time later after what happened, I guess…Oh, and it’s getting closer to your wedding day PFFT He calls you through the phone, and he was surprised that you answered—He’s sorry for calling you, but he says his brother is at his place and has something he needed your help with, so he asks if you want to eat lunch with them…But he understands if you don’t want to, since it’ll be awkward with him there after what happened. But you agreed anyway, “Are you sure?” He asks, but says he’ll be waiting for you then eventually.

He welcomes you to his home, and it’s not really explained here—But you were surprised to see him, maybe because he looks horribly depressed 😭 He tells you to just go inside and sit your ass down lol You ask where your brother is and he says he went to the convenience store to buy something and he’ll be back soon (doubt) and AGAIN he apologizes for what happened between the two of you, which makes me think that he’s really reflecting on his actions and I’m just being a little bitch about it ☠️ He said he’s gotten better at controlling his feelings now, and swears to you that it won’t happen again (DOUBT)

You assured him, and he finally sounds happy omg He admits that he was sad the past few days because he thought you won’t be able to talk to him again—But seeing you right now, talking to him, and reassuring him made him so glad that he’s wrong 🥹 He’s very grateful and you jokingly tell him he sounds strange compared to before.

He kinda agrees with that and admits that he loved you too much before, and every time he remembers the things he says and did, it made him incredibly embarrassed lol Though he feels better now, since he doesn’t usually have this kind of gloomy personality, so he’s fine now 🙃

…He then suggests to play a game, while waiting for his brother to come back 🙃 A very simple, easy game 🙃 Just close your eyes, hold out both your arms, listen to what he’s saying, and focus which hand is holding yours—Left or right 🙃 Ｓｉｍｐｌｅ，　ｒｉｇｈｔ？ 🙃

If you win, he’ll congratulate you on your wedding—Buy you whatever present you want…”What if you win?” You asked🧎‍♀️And this mfcker just went “What? Don’t tell me you’re worried that I’m gonna make you do something weird or something?” He laughs and strictly told you to just close your eyes alreadg lol He keeps praising you like you’re a kid and assures you that he’s moved on 🙃 So you don’t have to worry anymore 🙃 That from now on, he’s going to be your little brother like you always wanted 🙃 and it’s not like he’ll be able to do anything weird when his brother can come home anytime lol

The amount of (doubt) I had was immaculate when listening to this for the first time, darlings—Can you tell ☠️ He says if he won…He’ll let you cook dinner next time, cause he’s sick of always being in-charge of the cooking and wants to try your cooking this time.

So, then the game begins…Or not lol He’s still preparing, and the first thing he does? Obviously—Gets as close as he possibly can towards your right ear because it’s “necessary” lmao This man ain’t slick ☠️ Obviously, you’re a bit uncomfortable with that, but he says that if you give up now before anything has even started, you won’t get a wedding present from him lol “Don’t worry, it only tickles at the start. You’ll get used to it soon.” AND THEN THE GAME ACTUALLY BEGINS LMAO ARE YOU READY???

Close your eyes, repeats the rules about your hands and he—He begins to fucking BLOW on your ears ☠️ This was fucking tingly af ngl, not something to listen to whilst the dead of the night because it’s actually relaxing af jesus christ…ANYWAY, HE’S SEDUCING YOU BTW.

He bites, sucks, and licks on your ear, encouraging your body temperature to go up and proceeds to ｇａｓｌｉｇｈｔ you into thinking that there’s ABSOLUTELY NOTHING wrong nor suggestive with what he’s doing, nu-uh 🫠🫠 It’s all part of the challenge of the game, he says and your ears are just sensitive lmao He commentates on what he’s doing too omg “My tongue is going deep inside your ear.” EAR PORN HITS DIFFERENT NOW, DOESNT IT ☠️

This sussy moment continues on for the next few minutes—But like, as it’s happening, you can hear some really…ominous sounds of something shuffling in the background like someone rummaging for something and like ??? Obviously you’re curious and FINALLY—He asks which hand is holding yours right now…You answered correctly, and he proudly tells you to open your eyes for a job well-done and BOOM.

You’ve been handcuffed 🤡

He cut off every sensory you could possibly have at that moment just to distract you from noticing what he was doing. “I tricked you? No, that was all part of the game.” You probably started raising your voice, but he shushes you—Telling you to shut up, because he’s going to make you feel good again ☠️ GETS ME EVERY TIME GODDAMN IT LMAO Ladies, remember that all men do is lie 😔 (sigh)

He sounds WAY different than who he was before, which makes me think that he was only acting weak, because he sounds assertive now as he drills lewd words right into your head. “Who’s in front of you right now? Say my name.” But you call for help, called your fiance’s name instead. He shushes you gently and corrects your mistake…but asks you again, “Who’s touching you right now? It’s me, isn’t it?”

Maybe you didn’t answer, to scared to say anything—So, he reassures you by instilling you with his own twisted logic : “Don’t worry too much about my brother.” He says, like the devil on your shoulder. “You haven’t been officially married yet, so it’s fine. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“You, me, or my brother. We’re not doing anything wrong.” He says, he sounds like he has a smile on his face as he continues to brainwash you into doing the wrong thing. “…So, say my name. Look at me and only me, because you’re the only one I can see.”

“Fall in love with me.”

“It’s fine. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“Nothing at all.”

He kisses you a few more times, to give further validity with what he’s saying and at this point, I think you’re slowly giving up—Because there’s really nothing else you can do but accept it. He convinces you that his kisses feels good, and that you loved being kissed with tongue—and with your feeble, slowly-getting-fucked-out mind, you begin to agree with everything he says. So, he promises you that he can make you feel even better.

“I’ll always be with you.” He says, which had you confused—So, he states the obvious, “Because I’m going to be with you forever.”

“Aren’t you happy that there’s someone in this world who loves you as much as I do?”

He suggest for the two of you to “Do it” again—Your losing your focus, so he had successfully convinced you into saying that you want to do it too…He tells you that he’s happy that you’re thinking that way ♥︎

🫣🫣🫣

WE’RE ALMOST TO THE END GUYS PLEASE BEAR WITH ME, THIS IS AN HOUR-LONG AUDIO DRAMA BUT ITS SO GOOD.

After sexy time, the term “Nya-chan” has finally been addressed for the first time and it seems like while y’all we’re fucking, he was calling you that all this time. He wonders why he was calling you that too—But he guessed that it’s because he had always seen you as a little selfish-bratty cat whenever you’re eating the food he makes, so he just ended up calling you “Nya” as a nickname…Nya as in the Meow in Cat

He likes it, it feels special because he’s the only one who can call you that—He repeats it over and over again and asks if he can call you that from now on. You agreed, so I guess that’s your name from now on, Darling ♥︎👋 Nya-chan 😺 He feels so happy calling you that, it’s so special to him that he begins to cry—He loves Nya too much🧎‍♀️

(My typing hand is dying)

The next day—Someone is calling him and tells you to stay put. It’s his workplace, it seems like they need him for something despite the fact that it’s his day-off lmao somethings never change huh 😭 He’ll still go, but then he notices that you’re now standing in front of the entrance door, and he asks you if you’re going somwhere…But you don’t you say anything, so he figured that you might’ve been too afraid to stay here all by yourself…He steps closer to you, apologized for not noticing your worries earlier—But like, “I was so happy when you told me that you’ll stay with me forever, so I just trusted that you won’t leave.”

“Sorry, have you come to hate me now?” He starts to get a little unhinged, like you triggered something in him, which quite frankly means—That he’s becoming scary again ☠️ “…Hey, did I do something wrong?”

“You’re not…trying to run away, are you?” He steps REALLY close, those footsteps sounds heavy and the little laugh on his voice—Like you just said something really ridiculous and shows that he’s a little pissed 🧎‍♀️Dear God… “Let’s have a little talk, shall we?“

And he slams you to the fucking wall.

“…That’s not it, right? You’re not trying to run away, right? You understand that, right?” He bombards you with questions that I don’t even think you’re answering because he’s already convincing himself that you won’t run away, because you love him, yknow? Why would you even think of something like that lol—Like the little delusional man he is ☠️ He says he’s sorry for being suspicious, he’s just worried for his little Nya and that’s on him. You never know what’s out there.

“I’m so, so goddamn worried that I might lose it once I imagine what will happen to you if you leave this room, Nya.” He’s sounding more and more deranged. “Hey, you’ll understand that, won’t you? WONT YOU?”

He kisses you once again to prove how much he loves and cares about you, but goddamn he’s as yandere as one can get because even I’m scared of how twisted this man’s bipolar-ass kind of love ☠️ He continues to tell you all the things he’s scared of happening when you get out, like when another weird man comes in to sweep you off by the feet and he doesn’t want that 😭 It’s like this man just completely erased the fact that you and his brother are engaged and would actually be getting married in a few days lol Guess that ain’t happening anytime soon now ☠️

“Nya wouldn’t want that to happen to you too, right?“ He baby-talks you, plays with your mind and using this kind of manipulative-guilt-tripping shit going on. He even goes threatning her by saying how even he won’t be able to touch her again if you’ve become tainted by others—And in turn, no one will. So, he scares you into understanding his forceful and terrifying logic…And he’s satisfied with what you become.

He apologizes for being rough before, for almost giving you a goddamn concussion lmao Because damn he’s well-aware that he’s losing his mind, and the fact that you’re the only saving grace he has, he will do his damn best to keep you by his side—Whatever means necessary.

Another time-skip has passed—The next day came and he whispers good morning to you as you’re still chained down on the bed. He apologizes for it being tight (your wrists are probably fucked ngl) so, he’ll loosen them up a little but make sure you don’t run away, okay 👁👁 He’ll be looking at you through the camera (!?) so don’t do anything sus, okay 🧎‍♀️ sorry i love this voice drama so much

Then, someone rang the doorbell—So, Yandere-kun very gently (INTIMIDATINGLY) tells you to not be too loud as he went to go see who it is…Has a few conversation about that person, acting like he’s a normal human-being there for a second and soon—He comes back to you and you asked who it was. He said it was no one important, just the landlord…looking for a lost cat.

“…I sure hope they find it soon.”

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

(SOBBING)

“BRIEF SUMMARY” MY ASS—Sorry, I had too much fun translating and commentating on this lmao ☠️☠️ ITS SO FUCKING GOOD. I’m sure there were a few error in this, but like—I wish I have the general knowledge down at least so that you could understand what happened 🤡 Apologies for that lol

Please listen to the actual audio drama, it’s free on youtube—I swear it’s a different experience with voice on. It changed my life fr だいきりASMR is a hidden diamond in the rough, why is no one talking about them 😩 I’m gonna go listen to more of their content, and I’ll share some with you all if I find something more interesting to translate and commentate on lol 👀 chaotically, if y’all are into that haha

Also, I love how someone can portrait a yandere like this—A yandere that doesn’t rely too much on violence and I love the fact that he’s not just the typical sadistic type of Yandere, yknow? 😭 Like he’s just some poor pathetic bastard who fell in love with the wrong person, at the wrong time—So, you can’t help but kinda feel bad for him ☠️ PEOPLE TAKE NOTES.

[somethingaboutyou-beingyou]

shout out to @procrastinatinglikeapro because omg i love your blog. i love scrolling through it and just looking at every damn post because it’s such a safe place to be. like there’s no drama or bad vibes going on. also you’re such an amazing writer, like i mean WOW. ‘can’t catch a break’ makes me absolutely FERAL. like i can’t tell you how many times i’ve gone back to reread it, also that bitch is like 10k words… HELLO?! that’s so fucking crazy like, wow. and the rest of your fics are crazy good too?! like i love ‘i’ve always called you sunshine’ like you’re writing always has me blushing 🤭 like please spare some talent 🤲 but yeah you’re crazy fucking talented and so kind. i love seeing you around and i hope you keep doing what you’re doing <3

[just-some-random-blogger]

part 2 of modern!daemon nonnie's ask<з ok maybe it's good tumblr made me divide the ask. now i can write more about my thoughts on the modern au) hope you like reading them. 'any particular reason why you want to tell them?' just me. i'm ingenuous with people i trust so yeah.. just me. 'i think it’s pretty useless no?' it probably is. that's why i've offered you another idea)) 'i think she’d be fine not to tell him' noo but daemon? i think he's got the right to know. he can bask in his great ability to love a little. 'IMMA MAKE IT SO MESSY YOU DONT EVEN KNOW' GIRL anything i can handle anything BUT they marry at the end! and NOT that cliche pls TT i still need to cry out of happiness!! and YES i GET you. i don't insist on aegon and aemod being royal? and from that time. it's been just written. i'm glad you like this idea with an investigation) our alliance's really gonna make things. or riot. you choose my big brain sister. and i accept all the kisses!!! send them right back!!! KISSKISSKISS your kind lips for this kind words <з i also think aemond would've been upset but really interested in this whole thing as a historian but aegon'd have been soo heartbroken poor baby. i do like their characters but i'm personally too loyal for them.. i also see aegon more attached to the reader? like she's with daemon but aegon's right there and just.. hello.. how are u.. hey man can you pls not touch her thanks. and aemond sees daemon in the museum, makes a sour face and just.. hello my beloved professor i need your help can you spare me your whole day preferably thank you. while daemon's jealous but can't really tell them to fuck off bc 1) they don't really do smth bad 2) his 'valyrian' wife likes her pretty boys who act like puppies in love she'd be sad( aaand i'm really eager to see daemon brining her to his family (meeting aemma and little rhaenyra OmG where's cpr) aaand his home, the castle(?) like they're walking through the halls and she absolutely cries recalling everything she had before (not the bad medicine and sexism though...) meeting vyseris and looking at him KNOWINGLY while he's confused but is sooo relieved to have someone who's able to tame his brother. (reader and aemma besties reader and aemmd besties READER AND AEMMA BESTIES! please. poor reader should have a chance to be bestie of the lady she had no opportunity to spend more time with TT) and your spoiler?? i'm WAITING. i'm waiting.... i'm ready to take my make up off with the tears. i know you'll make it good. i trust you to break my heart. BUT then put it together again please i need to give you something for you being the most talented hottie-cutie. STOP or should daemon remember smth (some little things and feelings) himself after the valyrian wedding... i never know. you might know. but who knows. love you angel!! have a nice day/evening!!! take care! LOVE YOU

PART TWO OF THE LOVE LETTER LEZGOOOO

maybe it's good tumblr made me divide the ask. now i can write more about my thoughts on the modern au) hope you like reading them.

i LOVE reading your asks!!! although it does take a while for me to reply so ur just gonna have to wait lol

'any particular reason why you want to tell them?' just me. i'm ingenuous with people i trust so yeah.. just me.

oh my cutesy lovely innocent lovely bug. we'll see. but i think, again 2k years of living made her quite hard and cynical

'i think it’s pretty useless no?' it probably is. that's why i've offered you another idea))

lolololol im listeningggggg i feel bad for saying your idea was fundamentally useless. i dont think ur useless im luv u

'i think she’d be fine not to tell him' noo but daemon? i think he's got the right to know. he can bask in his great ability to love a little.

i think he does but also if i dont find a reason/the right motive for yn to tell daemon ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

'IMMA MAKE IT SO MESSY YOU DONT EVEN KNOW' GIRL anything i can handle anything BUT they marry at the end! and NOT that cliche pls TT i still need to cry out of happiness!!

i love breaking peoples hearts maybe i wont make them have a wedding just to spite you HAHAHAHAHHH

and YES i GET you. i don't insist on aegon and aemod being royal? and from that time. it's been just written.

I ONLY SAID THAT BECAUSE I WAS CONFUSED ABOUT YOUR ASK yeah theyre not royal in the modern!au lol LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL

i'm glad you like this idea with an investigation) our alliance's really gonna make things. or riot. you choose my big brain sister. and i accept all the kisses!!! send them right back!!! KISSKISSKISS your kind lips for this kind words <з

I LOVE YOUR IDEA SO MUCH I KISS KISS KISS

i also think aemond would've been upset but really interested in this whole thing as a historian but aegon'd have been soo heartbroken poor baby.

THIS^^ yes but also no ?? HAHAH like i think both of them would be upset and in denial, in their own way, however i think they'd also have their own version of 'oh you're destined to be together, I DONT CARE WATCH ME TRY ANYWAY?'

i do like their characters but i'm personally too loyal for them..

honestly same! unless-

i also see aegon more attached to the reader? like she's with daemon but aegon's right there and just.. hello.. how are u.. hey man can you pls not touch her thanks.

actuUALLY YOURE SO RIGHT i think aegon is more attatched to readdderrr BIG BRAIN because they meet up regularly at the bar as friendsssssss albeit aegon is working as a bartender. also him going 'hello.. how are u.. hey man can you pls not touch her thanks.' at daemon 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀 the sadness the desperation T_T suddenly idc about daemon HAHAHAHHA

and aemond sees daemon in the museum, makes a sour face and just.. hello my beloved professor i need your help can you spare me your whole day preferably thank you.

SAUR REALLLLLLL i think part of the reason why i also think aegon and yn would be closer than aemond and yn is because aemond would 100% try to keep that professional barrier, even unknowingly, and would be so jelly that yn and aegon have such a different dynamic, thinking like 'you always get your way i hate it here' T_T my poor lovie

while daemon's jealous but can't really tell them to fuck off bc 1) they don't really do smth bad

AHAHHAAHAH WHEN HAS DAEMON EVER BEEN STOPPED FROM DOING SOMETHING JUST BECAUSE HE WANTS TO HAHAHAHAHAHA

2) his 'valyrian' wife likes her pretty boys who act like puppies in love she'd be sad

tbh, i dont imagine yn as valyrian, just extremely knowledgeable of it for obvious reasons, but ur so right, daemon would hate to maker his lover sad

( aaand i'm really eager to see daemon brining her to his family (meeting aemma and little rhaenyra OmG where's cpr)aaand his home, the castle(?) like they're walking through the halls and she absolutely cries recalling everything she had before (not the bad medicine and sexism though...)

NOT THE BAD MEDICINE AND SEXISM HAHAHAHAHAH SO TRUE WAIT YOU MAKE ME FEEL SO EXCITED TO WRITE THAT I AM SO EXCITED TO MAKE HER MEET THE ROYAL FAMILY AND YOURE SO RIGHT HER AND AEMMA AND RHAENYRA AND REMEMBERING STUFF IN THE CASTLE GAAAAAHHHHHH

meeting vyseris and looking at him KNOWINGLY while he's confused but is sooo relieved to have someone who's able to tame his brother. (reader and aemma besties reader and aemmd besties READER AND AEMMA BESTIES! please. poor reader should have a chance to be bestie of the lady she had no opportunity to spend more time with TT)

VISERYS TOO T_T he'd be so on the fence about meeting yn like 'you clearly make him happy but im scared you'll trick my baby bro i will fight you' T_T OLDER BRO ACTIVATED. YES YES AND YN AND AEMMA BEING BESTIES COS THEY NEVER HAD THE CHANCE T_T SOOOO TRUEEEEE BIGGGG BRAAAIINNNNN

and your spoiler?? i'm WAITING. i'm waiting.... i'm ready to take my make up off with the tears. i know you'll make it good. i trust you to break my heart. BUT then put it together again please i need to give you something for you being the most talented hottie-cutie.

[EVIL LAUGH] I NOW HAVE SO MANY PLANS THAT IDK IF IT WILL ALL FIT IN P3 PLEASE HELP HELP HELP AYUDAME I WILL 100% STOMP ON YOUR HEART BUT I HAVE NO IDEA HOW I WILL PUT ALL THE PIECES TOGETHER [RUNS AWAY]

STOP or should daemon remember smth (some little things and feelings) himself after the valyrian wedding... i never know. you might know. but who knows. love you angel!! have a nice day/evening!!! take care! LOVE YOU

NO BUT YOURE SO BIG BRAIN SOMETHING MIGHT TRIGGER DAEMON TO REMEMBER PLEASE YOURE MAKING ME WANT TO WRITE 10 CHAPTERS FOR THIS HELLLLPPPPPPPP im gonna go start writing now help me pls T_T

i LOVE YOU TOO TAKE CARE MY LOVE

xxx

[itsallyscorner]

For Tom x

Pairing: Tom Holland x singer!reader

Summary: You have a surprise for Tom:)

Warnings: none, just pure teeth rotting Fluff:)

A/n: Hello my loves! This is literally a rewrite because I accidentally deleted the original version of this story on Tumblr RIGHT before I was gonna post it😭 Anyway here it is, I hope you all like it! Ally x

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

look at my sunshine🥺

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

Your giggles filled the hallway as you lead Tom into your makeshift studio. Since you were quarantining with him and his mates in their shared home in London, you were miles away from your crew and studio. Which, yes, made it difficult to record an entire album on your own—but it did give you the creative freedom to do whatever you pleased for the album.

The boys had their own creative outlets; for example putting together a puzzle or having a movie marathon. While you found those activities enjoyable, the inner singer in you couldn’t stop thinking of beats or coming up with lyrics in your head. You needed the studio—you needed to bring those beats and lyrics to life before you could forget them. So with the help of the houses’ tech lord himself, Harry made it possible for you to have your own little studio in the spare guest room of the house. There, you spent endless days writing and recording things like harmonies and building melodies. Little did you know that this would lead to the creation of your sixth album. Now a couple months later, your latest album is currently in its final stages and would soon be released to the world.

Tom adoringly watched your figure, which was drowned in one of his oversized jumpers, excitedly skip towards the guest room. As soon as you were both inside, you rushed to close the door and eagerly pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed.

“What have you been up to, lovey?” He teasingly asks you. He knew you were up to something, he just didn’t know if it were bad or good.

Your figure was bent over the desk where your laptop was located. Turning over your shoulder you tell him, “It’s nothing bad, I promise!” You’re met with an amused grin on his blush pink lips.

Gathering your laptop into your arms, you move to sit beside Tom on the bed. He curiously leans forward, trying to get a glance at what’s on your screen.

“Nuh uh, it’s a surprise, Thomas.” You playfully scold him and gently push his face away from your laptop. He responds with a pout against your palm before pressing a kiss onto your skin. You continue to click around on your laptop, looking through your documents for the specific file.

Meanwhile, Tom shuffles further up the bed, getting comfortable. He notices the new distance between you and him and decides that he’s unsatisfied with the additional inches. He choses to snake his arms around your waist and lifts you up, happily placing you on the empty and lonely space on his lap. Laying down on his back, he takes a moment to admire the way you look in his jumper. It was a few sizes bigger than you and stopped right above your knees. The jumper may have looked good on him, but it looked absolutely perfect on you.

“You look so cute in my jumper.” He hums, hands lazily rubbing up and down your thighs. Your nose scrunches up as you lightly slap his chest; your silent way of saying “shut up” whenever Tom would say something that made you blush.

You finally find the file you were looking for and place your laptop on your lap. You nervously glance at your screen, biting down on your lip out of habit.

“Ok, so I did something.” You started. Tom squints his eyes at you, “That sounds like the beginning of a really bad something.”

You huff, “I just told you it wasn’t anything bad! Do you want your surprise or not?”

Tom chuckles and grasps onto your thighs, “Yes—yes, sorry, keep going.”

“So you know how I’ve already finished my album?” You question him. Tom nods, staring up at you while you sit on his thighs.

“Well, I wrote a few more songs that were supposed to be on the album. But I don’t know, I felt a bit greedy and decided to keep them for myself.” You explain. Tom raises a brow at you, “Baby, you don’t have to feel guilty about keeping songs to yourself. If you don’t want to share them, you don’t have to.”

“No, it’s just that, they’re about you.” You pause, staring down at your fingers that fiddled together. “Like I wrote them specifically for you to listen to. I wanted to include them on the album, but it just didn’t feel right to share something that was meant only for you.”

You place your laptop on the bed and turn it so the screen is facing Tom.

“So...as a solution, I made you your own album.” You were too busy avoiding his stare, that you missed the twinkle in Tom’s coffee colored orbs. He carefully sits up, his arms around you getting tighter, as he pulls you closer into his chest. Tom ducks his head down to yours, nudging your nose with his to get you to look at him. When your eyes finally meet, the lopsided grin on his features grows wider.

“You made me my own album?”

“Yeah.” You shyly answer. Tom softly coos at you, cupping your face and pressing a chaste kiss onto both of your cheeks.

“You are the most precious thing in the world, sunshine, I swear.” He squishes your cheeks together and began to cover your face with butterfly like kisses. Sweet laughs erupt from you, the sounds making Tom’s heart swell.

You stuff your face in the space between his neck and shoulder, using it as a place to hide from his lips. Instead, Tom opts to lay his kisses along the side of your face, your neck, and your shoulder.

“Lemme kiss you!” He whines. You chuckle at him, finally moving away from his neck. His attention darts towards your lips more than once, prompting you to lean forward and connect them with his. Tom’s lips were soft against yours, like clouds or cushiony pillows. The kiss was short and sweet; though it didn’t prevent you from feeling the adoration and passion he felt for you in that moment. In fact, he felt it all the time, but right now, his love for you was coursing through his veins.

He finally pulls away, leaving the taste of him linger in your mouth. “Can I have a listen?” He motions his head towards your laptop beside him.

“Go ahead.” Tom’s arms unravel from your waist, the area they once occupied left cold and yearning for his warmth. He uses one of his elbows to hold himself up and the other to control the touchpad. His eyes scan the file.

For Tom x

someone like u

test drive

worst behavior

main thing

He glances at you, “I start with ‘someone like u’, right?” You reply with a quiet “mhm”.

Tom clicks on the link. The opening notes of ‘someone like u’ begin to play followed by your angelic voice. You hear him release a content sigh, making a small smile to form on your lips. His arms make their way around you again, this time holding you closer against him. He rests his head on your chest and sneakily presses a kiss onto your neck. You fondly run a hand through his curly hair and rest your chin on the top of his head, listening to the songs you’ve made for him.

The two of you listen through the album in one go with no stops. You found joy in Tom’s reactions towards every song. Sometimes he would make little comments or sounds of shock whenever he heard you hit a certain note. He nodded along to the beats of ‘test drive’ and ‘worst behavior’, dancing around in his seat and making you join him. This time, you didn’t miss the twinkle in his eyes when he listened closely to the lyrics. ‘Main thing’ got him the most, leaving him with a goofy-lovesick grin plastered onto his face.

When ‘main thing’ came to a close, the room became silent, leaving Tom enough time to process the four songs you wrote about him and the meanings behind them.

You were the first to speak, “So did you like it?” You scan his face looking for any signs of dislike.

Tom’s eyes widen, “Are you kidding me? That was bloody fantastic—that was the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard! I’m obsessed with it, oh my god!” He expressed, arms moving around as he spoke.

His face was radiating with happiness, “You are the most talented and loving woman in the world. And I honestly don’t know what I did to deserve you or your love—but I just love you so fucking much.”

“I love you so fucking much too, you dork.” You laugh, pecking his lips.

“No, but seriously, thank you so much. I know you’re used to writing songs, but the fact that you actually took the time to write songs about me means a lot. They’re just a bunch of songs, but they mean the world to me and I cherish each and every one of them.” He admits, taking one of your hands and placing it onto his heart. Your palm feels the faint rhythm of his heart beating against his chest.

You tilt your head at him, mirroring the smile on his face, “I’ll always write songs about you. You somehow manage to inspire them anyway.”

Tom smirks, “Well I am Tom Holland.” You snort and roll your eyes at his humble brag.

“You’re still a dork, Tommy.” You comment.

Tom shrugs, “I’m a special dork because I’m your dork. Therefore making me superior to the other existing dorks—there’s a difference, darling.”

“And where did you come up with this hypothesis, Mr. Holland?” You question him, playing along with his antics.

“It’s Tom’s Theory.” He answers with feign seriousness. You burst out laughing, “Oh is it?”

Tom leans down to your laptop and restarts his album. “Yes, and now Tom’s Theory, believes that we should listen to the album again until I learn all the lyrics to every single song.” He proclaims.

“Babe, you don’t have to—” Tom stops you, “I’m dead serious.”

It was going to be a long night.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Tags ↴

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Tom Holland + characters Taglist

↪︎ @lovableparker @aprettyfleur @sunwardsss @dummiesshort @thotforcriminalminds @cuddlykoala101 @itstaskeen @whoslili @white-wolf1940 @tomsirishgirlx @roseke @kaylans-imagines @spideyspeaches @slutforsebstan

General Taglist

↪︎ @quxxnxfhxll @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @thegirlwiththediary @agustdowney @bi-lmg @rqmanoff @sesamepancakes @stardustofreading

[an-emovision]

hi there! im hoping you watched aot and if you did could you do platonic league of villains with a reader who's personality is like hange and armin?(she is more of an extrovert,talkative,very smart,can be manipulative,caring and strong) good day/night!

A/N: Hi hello! thanks for the request! yes i have seen aot, i cant wait for the second half of the 4th season honestly. I did shigaraki, toga, and dabi since those three are most popular haha, Hope you like it! Warning(s): Mentions of blood bc of Toga, cursing ——————•°•✿•°•——————••——————•°•✿•°•—————— 𝓦𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓶𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾... 𝓣𝓸𝓰𝓪 𝓗𝓲𝓶𝓲𝓴𝓸: ❀-Oh my god... ❀-You're adorable ❀- As soon as you walked into the bar Toga knew she had to be friends with you, and as soon as you said you wanted to be a member? she almost lost it ❀-Hopping out of her seat she ran over to you and took your hands in hers, shaking them violently ❀-"Hi! im Toga! whats your name? oooo whats your quirk???" she never broke eye contact with you as she spoke. ❀-After answering her questions as fast as you could she some how managed to convince Shigaraki -the man who you assumed was in charge- to let her show you around ❀-He huffed seemingly giving her the okay because before you could prosses what was happening she was dragging you off to show you the ropes. 𝓓𝓪𝓫𝓲: ❀-Honest to god couldnt've cared less ❀-He didn't even spare you a glance until Shigaraki told you you could join. ❀- "Dabi, show them around" ❀- "The fuck? why me?" ❀- It was then that he looked up from his drink to see what he was working with. You looked...average. Nothing outwardly special about you. ❀-He stood from his seat and headed for the door at the far side of the room, you assumed it lead to the back. ❀-"well? are you coming or not?" ❀- You let out a small 'oh' and made your way towards him. 𝓢𝓱𝓲𝓰𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓴𝓲: ❀- "Whats your quirk?" Was the first thing out of his mouth as soon as you stated you wanted to join the league ❀-You explained your quirk to him with a polite smile, his head was turned towards you as he was seated at the bar. ❀-You couldnt read his facial expressions with the severed hand covering them but by the end of your explanation he seemed some what satisfied. ❀-"Any special talents?" He asked, an odd question perhaps but you answered any way. ❀- You were good at strategizing and had an impressive amount of scientific knowledge for some one who looks like an average college student. ❀-he simply nodded as he got out of his seat and stuffed his hands into his pants pockets ❀-"Alright, follow me ill show you around" 𝓗𝓸𝔀 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸𝓰𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻... 𝓣𝓸𝓰𝓪 𝓗𝓲𝓶𝓲𝓴𝓸: ❀- you often find yourself either shopping with her or letting her play with your hair at home, there's no real in between. ❀- When you do go shopping of course you have to hide your faces a little but shes still determined to make the most of it. ❀-You'll go to various clothing shops with her. ❀-"Look at this coat! isnt it cute?! it'd go great with this skirt dont you think?" ❀-You're not really one for fashion so you mostly let her pick out your outfits and absolutely loves the fact that you let her ❀-"Wait! look at these pants! try these on!" ❀-When you do stay home you'll probably be watching some shitty reality show as the two of you gossip about boys. By this i mean you listening to Toga talk about some kid named Izuku Midoriya, of course you made comments ❀-She showed you a picture "Why does he look like that?" ❀- "What do you mean?! hes adorable!" ❀- "He looks like he's never brushed his hair before bestie..." 𝓓𝓪𝓫𝓲: ❀-Watching movies on the couch probably ❀-watching really bad si-fi movies with really shitty cgi ❀- "Haha that alien kinda looks like you" ❀- "HUH?? fuck off Dabi" ❀-throw something at him please ❀- he can and will make your mom jokes but dont make any back, not unless you want him to ignore you for reminding him of his trauma. ❀- Dont fall asleep while watching your movies, not unless he falls asleep first. he will draw dicks on your forehead. 𝓢𝓱𝓲𝓰𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓴𝓲: ❀-Playing video games for sure ❀-You're like really good at them and super smart but like let him win every once in a while ❀- you cant be rocking his shit all the time. ❀-strategizing how to

destroy the heroes while beating each other up in a game ❀- "And how do you propose we get rid of all might?" ❀- "Easy, snipe him when he's not looking" ❀-"Right like that would work" ❀- "You asked me a question and i answered okay?" ❀- if you do let him win expect him to call you trash ❀-Please throw something at him and whoop his ass for the next three rounds thanks. ——————•°•✿•°•——————••——————•°•✿•°•—————— 𝓕𝓮𝓮𝓵 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓻𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽!

[elysianslove]

hi, hi, hello!!! i love, love, love the way you write and portray the jjk characters—i've read all of them and they're so good xiejdbbdhd (i've recently made a new writing blog and one of the people i'm studying closely to help improve is you— like pls spare some talent 🤲)—i know you're probably swamped with other requests, so if you don't want to do this, please feel free to ignore!! i've seen a lot of people headcanon megumi liking a chubby s/o, but not much of anyone else, so may i have some hcs of yuuji and toge with one?? (+ you might also add some for sukuna in yuuji's part too if you want). thank you!! 💖

oh my goodness hi!!! that is the most flattering thing anyone’s ever said to me; i am so, so incredibly honored oh my goodness. thank you so much for your words on god imma cry. and yes, you absolutely may! i really hope you like these, i love you mwah <3

also, only if you’re comfortable with it, dm the url to your blog!! i’d love to see and read your works, mwah <333

itadori yuuji

okay omg i saw this panel from the manga on instagram once of yuuji being asked who he’d date from his class or something, and he pointed out this chubby girl and he was talking about her personality and how cool she is and i genuinely believe that really is yuuji’s perception towards his s/o

like yeah he says he wants to date a girl that looks like jennifer lawrence but when it really goes down to it, yuuji does not care what his s/o looks like

if anything, i think yuuji would be more into curvier or chubbier people, idk why but i see it so perfectly well? he seems like such a cuddly person and his excuse would 100% be something like “you’re just so. soft. and nice to cuddle with.” like he absolutely adores cuddling with his s/o, and this isn’t just because of his general touchy personality. 

the same way he likes cuddling, he absolutely loves hugs. they’re like the perfect preview of cuddling. absolutely the type to just barricade towards you when you’re at a distance and leap at you when he finally comes close to you. it does not matter if you end up on the ground with him on top of you. the strongest he runs at you, the more he loves you

yuuji’s crazy strong, and we’ve already established that, so he’d definitely be the boyfriend that picks you up, carries you around, lets you sleep on him, and if you ever mention anything about being too heavy for him, he just holds you tighter against him and says you feel like a feather against him and to shut up he wants to cuddle rn shhhh

he also definitely pushes you out of your comfort zone to wear a certain clothes or specific clothes that you really like. he’s super encouraging, especially because he doesn’t say things like “it looks good for a big person” he just starts frothing at the mouth at how good it is, period

loves to share clothes with you. he’ll give you his hoodies, and he’ll steal yours. might as well exchange closets at this rate

if you’re feeling particularly insecure, and you don’t really wanna go out or anything like that, he understands and won’t force you to leave the house, but he will definitely spend the entire day trying to make you feel better and won’t let you wallow in pity for a minute. absolutely strips you and him to your underwear and just dances with you until you’re both out of breath

ryomen sukuna; i really think he doesn’t care either. probably prefers it if a woman is more plump cause to him it’s just a sign of healthiness i guess? he just trynna fuck rip. but yes, that would probably be his way of eliminating your insecurity. like oh you don’t think you’re worthy? here’s some body worship and praise <3 also is the type to encourage you by belittling your insecurities? does that make sense? like just scoffs at you when you stand in front of a mirror and pick at yourself because why would you think like this of yourself? why would he be with you if he thought that way of you, you know? all this is weirdly motivating like he’s so dismissive of it all that you kinda forget it, or just don’t understand why you ever considered it. king of reverse psychology lol

inumaki toge

now i think toge would be more of a “this person’s looks captured my attention” and then “damn their personality makes them a thousand times more attractive” but not in an objectifying way, you know? and it’s definitely not in a societal norm or standard of beauty. it’s just what he finds beautiful or attractive 

he doesn’t have a preference when it comes to looks, he just wants to be attracted to the person to want to get to know them, you get me? if you happen to be chubby, that doesn’t matter in the least to him. he’ll deadpan like “does being chubby not make you pretty like????”

toge’s not necessarily the cuddliest person on earth, but he would be lying if he said he doesn’t absolutely melt the moment he falls into your arms. he just loses his mind. you feel so soft and snuggly he’s in heaven

he’s a very soft lover. while yuuji’s louder in his actions that you’re overwhelmed and bursting at the seams, toge’s calmer. he makes you feel loved in that you wake up to see him tracing your figure calmly, caressing your body and skin softly, admiring every curve and every stretch mark.

speaking of stretch marks, he definitely did that thing where he grabbed a gold marker and lined all your stretch marks with glittery gold, and then proceeded to kiss all over them

he does that a lot. kiss your skin, i mean, especially if you’re feeling a little insecure, or even if he just wants to. loves to settle by your side and kiss all along your body, leaving you so flustered and with your chest bursting with love

if you want to try a certain style but are a little nervous to, toge would dress in that same style with you. yeah, it’s not exactly the same, but it’s a lot more encouraging than one would imagine, honestly, especially if it’s a really different style than what’s considered normal or basic

he really doesn’t care if you’re on the chubbier side, because at the end of the day, he found you and all of you attractive, and your personality’s golden, so why wouldn’t he stay? 

[inkedtae]

bring the pain ⇾ jjk. [M]

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ ON!jungkook x dancer!reader (f.)

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒 ⇾ requested, s2l, secret lovers, fluff, smut, a dash of angst for good measure

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾  innocent glances and sweet smiles turned into secret meet-ups and dirty desires. you’re in love with the man, not his fame. is this love really worth the hate? 

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 10.3k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ dom!jungkook, bigdick!jungkook, unprotected sex (wrap it to tap it), slight degradation, dirty talk, bondage, oral (f. receiving), bodyworshipping kink, daddy kink, hair pulling, spanking, pussy slapping, begging, lowkey filth, mentions of threats near the end

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ thank you to the kind anon that requested this; never knew i needed to write ON!jungkook until your ask. i might have gotten carried away with the the smut part… oh well. i might have rewritten the entire plot at the last second.  if you have any requests, please send’em my way. enjoy!

It was the way you pushed yourself, he had told you. The way you didn’t quit when the others thought that you couldn’t keep up. The way that you became the lead dancer within three days despite the otherwise badgering doubts that surrounded you. That’s what drew him to you, what made him curious for more. 

Doubt and hate were two different levels of insecurity, within and without alike. Doubt was a little voice. That voice’s impact was only as effective as your mind would let it be. Hate was different. It was not a nagging of the mind, but a breaking of the heart, reaching for your soul next. Hate consumed and used, battered and beat all affection from an already wounded heart. Hate didn’t smell blood; it drew it. He did not see that yet. But, then again, neither did you. 

The day you met him was the morning of a full dance rehearsal. Management needed to see the full moving picture. They needed proof of progress and what better way to retrieve it than by organizing it themselves. It was a busy morning, filled with three different kinds of production crews: concept creators, filming directors and assistants, and video and sound recorders. The members of Bangtan were said to arrive later, once they had gone through hair and makeup and the rehearsal room was prepped for filming. 

You weren’t very sure why management needed to do a full rehearsal so soon. Usually, these kinds of rehearsals were scheduled three months before scheduled performances. This one had been pushed up to six months. And you knew that management already had a good grasp on how all the background dancers were progressing throughout practises. You had caught one or two managers, who you didn’t really recognize, sitting in one on your early morning or late night practises many times before. They always had masks on and hoods up. They wore clothes that were all too baggy to make out a proper frame and their faces remained too covered to make out proper features of any kind. When you had asked one of the choreographers about it, they just said that it was management’s way of being discreet. You thought it only made them that much more painstakingly obvious, but you didn’t push the topic any further and returned to your place to practise the motions once more. 

“Ow,” Harin muttered under her breath. She scooted closer to you, pulling her legs into her chest as the camera crew got their wires in order. 

You turned to her, assessing the damage on her fingers as she rubbed them. “You alright?” 

She nodded. “That’s the fourth time,” she huffed, glaring at one of the men holding a camera. 

You bit the inside of your cheeks, resisting the urge to tell her that if she had followed the rules the moment they were given, then she wouldn’t have been stepped on at all. Everyone was told to remain around the centre of the room, letting the crews do what they had to on the sidelines. Her failure to comply couldn’t have led to anything less.

“I’m sorry about that,” you mumbled, avoiding her eye. The statement wasn’t a complete lie. You really didn’t want to see her, or anyone for that matter, hurt at all. But all you could hear when you saw her were those backhanded compliments she gave you when you first started rehearsing about three months ago. 

That’s pretty good for a beginner, she told you. Skilled footwork would have played that slip-up off without anyone even noticing, she said as she stared down at you when you had tripped over her slip-up. She helped you up that day, only to push you back down again. 

A loud clap drew you out of your thoughts. You redirected your attention to the front. Mijin stood before all the dancers, gesturing them to stand up. You smiled at her and she returned it while others wrapped up their conversations. You were really for Mijin. Had she not believed in you, you probably would’ve been cut a while ago and replaced. She was the only choreographer that stood up for you when you first started.

“Remember,” Mijin repeated for what felt like the thousandth. “Do not speak unless spoken to. This is not an opportunity to ask for photos or autographs. Please maintain professional conduct at all times.” She’d been telling everyone this for the past week, urging everyone to adhere to the NDA contracts they signed. 

You could feel Harin shiver with excitement beside you. She fixed her hair one last time in the mirror before for trying to calm herself down. You couldn’t really blame her. You were really excited too. You’ve been following Bangtan’s journey for a while, their struggle to be heard and taken seriously resonating with you on levels you couldn’t bear to recall. But, your nerves took over your excitement by a long shot. You were too nervous to expel your excitement like Harin did, or any other dancer for that matter. While they whispered to themselves about the member’s arrival and shifted about in their places, you stood perfectly still. Your entire body stiffened, out of fear or panic, you weren’t really sure. All you knew was that you were probably going to have to stretch again to not risk pulling any muscles during practise. 

The chatter amongst the dancers died out as the members entered. Your breath hitched at their tall, perfectly sculpted figures. You knew they were beautiful, but this was simply another degree of beauty you had ever witnessed. You realized in that moment that not a single camera could properly capture the beauty that was them. Those pictures you had seen, gifs you’ve stared at and videos you’ve replayed so many times you couldn’t count, only held a fraction of them. Looking into their eyes in person was enough to tell you that they were not entirely the same people they advertised themselves to be as well. They were more. They were flawed and flawless all at once, smiles hiding the exhaustion of the industry. You supposed that was the price for reinventing art. 

As you scanned down the line, your eyes caught a doe-like gaze. Jungkook flashed you half a smile that only just met the dazed look in his eye. You felt your cheek heat up a bit as you returned it. You never really had a distinctive bais; they all kind of stuck out to you in their own way. You knew that if you had met them under different circumstances than you might have all been friends. However, that was a fantasy you didn’t dwell on too much. The reality was before you. They are famous; you were not. This was their show; not yours. You were only a moving piece of the puzzle that was this very concept; nothing more, nothing less. 

But Jungkook’s eyes told you a different story. You didn’t regret listening to them, getting lost in the wonders that they were. You didn’t regret anything, besides the consequences of your colliding worlds. 

“Two, three,” Namjoon started before they all joined in, “Hello! We are BTS!”

They bowed and you returned it, just as you were instructed. Mijin wasted no time ushering everyone to their places. She told the members to do as they practised themselves and move around us as they had done without us in their private sessions. 

You took your place in the front, practically centred. From your position, you could still feel Jungkook’s eyes on you. No other member had spared you another glance, here to do their work and carry on with their day. Jungkook, however, hadn’t let himself break away from your figure once. You dared a look over at him through your lashes. He must have interpreted your stolen glance as something more than it was. Maybe he was right and you just didn’t fully process your actions before doing them. Whatever the case may be, he still raised a brow at you and you still blushed. 

The music began and you moved with it, following the beat, remaining in sync, nailing every sharp turn or bang of drum. You were able to ignore his eyes until you looked up, the drum you were holding hovering above your head and Jungkook staring down at you as he danced. And fuck, did he dance well. You already knew this about him, but seeing it in person only further proved his talent. He smiled, not missing a single beat then handed you back the sticks, rough fingers brushing yours.

You had to practise for three hours, going through the same motions over and over again. He would always smile when he caught your eye, brush his hands against yours, and stare at you when he thought you weren’t looking. By the time everyone was allowed a break, you were exhausted. You sat on the floor, chugging down your water and trying to catch your breath. You knew that sitting down after such an intense workout would only stiffen your muscles and make you have to stretch all over again, but you just really felt like you couldn’t stay standing for the life of you. 

Jungkook still had his attention on you, you could tell from his reflection in the mirror. You blushed a bit, growing embarrassed by the fact that you were extremely sweaty to the point that any hair that had fallen on your face, clung to your forehead. In an attempt to fix it, you took your hair out of the high ponytail it was in and began to pull it all back once more. You were so focused on your task that you didn’t notice Jungkook’s reflection make its way to yours.  

“Hi,” he smiled, and bowed. 

You tightened your hair as you looked up at him. Somehow, within the panic coursing through you, you managed a small smile and nodded your head at him. “Hello,” you whispered, dropping your hands down to your lap. 

Jungkook gestured to the floor asking, “can I?” 

His request shocked you a bit. You had thought all this staring was in your head, that maybe he was just zoning out or looking at the cameras behind you. The thought that he actually might be interested in getting to know you at all was flattering, but still extremely confusing. You were simply  some back-up dancer, a common face lost between others in the background. 

His eyes searched yours as you stared up at him. You hadn’t realized you didn’t reply yet until one of his brows shot up. Blinking repeatedly, you pulled yourself back to reality and you nodded. A little blush tinted your cheeks as he beamed at you again. He had the cutest smile, the kind of cute that melted and filled your heart all at once. 

“You’re a great dancer,” he started after seating himself across from you. You opened your mouth to mumble a quiet thank you, but he continued, “I was just talking to some of the guys about it.” The tips of his ears reddened as your brows shot up at him. He opened his lips to speak, but his words seemed to fall short. 

You weren’t really sure what to say. Was he flustered, or hurt? The panicked look in his eyes could be applied to either, only confusing you even more. Why would he be flustered around you though? Yes, you had been exchanging glances the entire time, but that could hold countless meaning. You felt your stomach recoil with disappointment at the thought that he might not be as into you as you were into him. But, you needed to ground yourself, to remind yourself of the reality of the situation; you were just another face in the crowd.

He gaped at you, trying to find his words, as you slightly tilted your head at him. “You okay?” you asked. You tugged your bottom lip with your teeth, nervously chewing on it as his face suddenly lost all readable expressions. You could only assume, based on his relaxed jaw and wide eyes, that he was lost in some sort of trance. 

“Jungkook?” you asked, searching his eyes for an answer. 

A quiet sigh escaped him and he suddenly stood up. “Uh,” he started, glancing back at his friends. 

You leaned over a bit, sneaking a look at Jin and Jimin silently giggling to themselves while looking over at the two of you. Was all this just some sort of joke? Heart slightly shattering, you scolded yourself for indulging in your delusional thoughts about his actions. You looked back up at him, eyes reflecting a disappointment you didn’t have the strength to hide.  

Jungkook must’ve picked up on your thoughts because he suddenly squatted back down to your eye level. You watched him carefully. You wanted to be sure that whatever conclusions you drew from his next words were accurate and not just wishing thinking on your part. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly. The sudden urge to lean over and pepper his neck with kisses hit you and you had to remind yourself that you were in a huge room filled with lots of people and that you needed to pull yourself together. 

“I’m sorry. I just- I um, the thing is that I-,”

You never got to hear the rest of that sentence as he was cut off by Mijin. She towered over both your frames, glaring down at you in particular. Fear overtook your mind, your heart beating so loud in your chest, you could hear the pounding in your ears. One look at her was enough to tell you that she won’t believe a thing you have to say about him talking to you first. 

Slowly tearing her warning stare from you, she looked to Jungkook and began to apologize. “I promise you we spoke to all the dancers about not bothering you. I thoroughly apologize for her behaviour.”  

“No, no,” he quickly replied, standing back up to his full height. “I was the one that approached her.”

Mijin raised her brow at you, confirming your thoughts. You weren’t really sure what the consequences were exactly, but knew that they weren’t going to be the best. “Thank you for understanding,” she smiled at Jungkook, all but dismissing him from the conversation. 

You stood up, clasping your hands behind you as Jungkook stared between you and Mijin. He seemed to finally get the hint that he was not needed in this conversation anymore and muttered one last apology to each of you, eyes lingering on you as he backpedaled back to his members. 

Mijin muttered for you to follow her and led you out of the rehearsal space. You walked behind her like the guiltless person you were. You did not technically break any of her rules. She told you not to speak unless spoken to and that was exactly what you did.

She didn’t seem very happy with your attitude when you finally reached the hall. “I didn’t expect this from you, (Y/N),” Mijin whispered, the disappointment clear in her voice. 

You lowered your head down as she spoke, accepting the scolding without a word. You weren’t going to challenge her or correct her knowing how well that attempt worked for Jungkook. You knew the best thing for you to do was silently receive this lecture and promise not to let it happen again.

“You are the last person I thought I’d have this conversation with. Their team is very adamant on not having them be distrubed. I really do not want to have this conversation with you again.” She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed, “look at me.”

You silently met her unimpressed gaze. 

“You’re a valued dancer so I can’t reposition to the back like I’ve done to the others who tried to pull the same thing you did. But, I need to make sure you don’t do this again so you’re in charge of cleaning up the rehearsal room after practise tonight. I’ll have one of the janitors leave you everything you need. The moment everyone is out of there and you’re done changing, I want that room cleaned.”

You supposed she was being as lenient as she could. It wasn't exactly the best outcome, knowing how gross that room gets after a hard rehearsal, but you were thankful that you didn’t get pushed to the back. You had really worked hard and to have it all be taken away from you like that would’ve really been a big blow to your ego. 

“I understand. I’m sorry about it all and I promise it won’t happen again,” you reassured. 

She gave you a close-lipped smile, the same kind your mother gives you when she can’t help but forgive whatever stupid thing you did that set her off. After patting your shoulder, she nodded for you to return back into the room. 

Jungkook continued to watch you all through rehearsal and, though you promised not to interact with him or any of the guys, you still met his eye and shared a smile. Your heart simply couldn’t deny him whatever attention he wanted. 

The practise fully ended three and a half hours later. Your body was completely torn with exhaustion and all you really wanted was to go home and take a long, hot bath to soothe your aching muscles. Your punishment still hung over your head though. Mijin reminded you about getting it done while you were leaving to change. She said that a list of what to clean will be left for you as well. 

You didn’t really take your time changing. You just wanted to go back in there and finish everything you needed to quickly so you could go home and shower the entire practise off. You swapped your sweaty t-shirt and sweatpants for a lavender patterned dress that ended just around your mid-thigh. It hugged your waist nicely, but flowed out beneath it. You found it very breathable and it was one of your favourites. 

The reek of the practise room didn’t really hit you until you reentered it. It was the hearty proof of a whole team’s hard work but it still overwhelmed you. You made your way to the windows position high up on the wall to crack it open and air out the room a bit. Standing on your toes, you reached and reached for the handle to turn it open but continuously fell short. A frustrated sigh escaped you as you began to look around the room for some leverage to stand on. 

“Need some help?” 

Your entire body froze as his sweet voice met your ears. He wouldn’t actually come back, would he? You turned to find Jungkook leaning against the doorframe, wearing an oversized black shirt and some baggy black pants. The sight was nothing short of breathtaking. He seemed more collected now than he did before, smiling lazily at you. 

Your brows came together as you watched him carefully. “Yes, please,” you replied before stepping aside as he made his way over to you. 

Jungkook held your gaze, nodding at you like he was greeting you all over again. You gave him a nod back and resisted the urge to laugh. It was clear he was trying to play it cool, acting indifferent as to whether or not you even gave him your attention. It was only later in your relationship when he told you Jin had given him that advice and even walked him through it a couple of times while waiting for you to finish changing. 

His shirt rode up a bit, making you blush, as he reached for the handle, failing the first time as well. His face briefly tilted to the side as he realized how much of a challenge it really was. He reached up again, able to hold onto the windowsill and hoist himself up just enough that his toes only just brushed the floor. In the quickest motions you’d ever seen, he turned the window open, letting the cool spring breeze air the room out. 

“Thank you so much,” you smiled as he hopped back down. 

He offered only a little shrug as he tongued his cheek. His eyes then fell on the cleaning supplies and all previous nonchalant attitude left him, concern and guilt taking its place instead. “Is that because of me?” He questioned as he walked towards them. 

You followed him, having to somewhat jog just to keep up with his fast strides.“Uh, not exactly,” you said, not really wanting to lie to him but also not wanting him to feel bad about it either. He turned to raise a brow at you before picking up the list of things that need to be done. “It’s really not that big a deal,” you shrugged. 

Jungkook didn’t react to your words. He seemed all too immersed in the list that you questioned if he even heard you. You took a step forward, leaning a bit to meet his gaze but he didn’t acknowledge it, probably still not noticing you had moved at all. You took a quick step back when he suddenly looked up and began to grab a spray and cloth. “I’ll clean the mirrors and you could sweep the floor then we can mop it together later,” he said, making his way to the mirrors before you even had a chance to fully register his words. 

Your eyes followed his frame to the other end of the room as you froze in place. Confusion took over your features and you were slightly concerned by his behaviour. “Um, what are you doing?” You met his gaze in the mirror. 

He gave you a small smile and replied, “Cleaning the mirror like I told you I would.”

“Yes, but why?”

His hands dropped to his side and he turned to face you. “I got you into this mess. It’s only fair I help you out a bit. And I know you’re probably tired from practise anyway so the sooner we get this done, the sooner you can go,” he explained then turned back to the mirror. 

It was clear that he had already made up his mind and, with the innocent look in his eyes, you really couldn’t find it in you to refuse him once more. A sigh escaped you as you took the broom and carried out your punishment. Every so often, you’d look over at him expecting to find him looking at you. His concentration latched onto the task he assigned himself, mouth slightly agape and brow furrowed as he rubbed the mirror clean. It was rather endearing, watching him give his full to such a normal task. It wasn’t like he was asked to build a mirror, yet he cleaned it with the same effort he probably would’ve applied to building it. 

Jungkook met your gaze and you snapped your head down to the ground, sweeping around you once more. A little chuckle echoed in the quiet room. You snuck a glance back up at him to find him still looking, a little smirk playing on his lips now. “You okay?” he asked, the cockiness in his voice not at all lost on you. 

You offered him a little nod, nothing more. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, knowing your voice would betray you. He was a very hard guy to read as he switched between demeanours easily. You weren’t used to that, used to having to figure out guys. Usually, you’d be able to tell if a guy was interested or not within the first two minutes of your interaction. But Jungkook confused you more than you wanted to admit. He’d stutter and fluster then stride with confidence and flash smug smiles only to revert back to his quiet, shy attitude as he simply stared at you. 

You thought that maybe finding out what exactly he wanted to talk to you about might help you figure him out. You had been thinking about his almost-words all day, wondering if he was sent there to mess with you or if he really had something he wanted to share. He squatted down to get the last of the mirror done as you cleared your throat. You wanted to make sure you didn’t sound all breathy and out of it when you spoke to him. His attention snapped back up at you, brows raised as if to ask you what it was you needed.

“Um,” you started, before leaning against the broom. “What was it that you wanted to tell me?”

His neck grew a bit pink as he ceased all actions and stared at you. After a moment of silence, he stood up and turned to you, but kept his gaze on the floor. “Oh, that,” he said as he scratched the nape of his neck. He walked towards the cleaning supplies and set the things he was using down as he continued, “well, I wanted to let you know that I think you’re really talented.” 

Your jaw went slack, eyes wide and brows rose in disbelief. “I- really?” you asked, searching for signs of possible lies. 

He nodded, walking back over to you with a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I’ve seen how you’ve improved since the first month and I gotta say that not a lot could really do that. You’re a natural.”

This was all too much at once. You knew you were a pretty good dancer, but coming from Jungkook it all seemed too good to be true. And when had he even seen you dance in the first month to know you had improved. You didn’t remember any cameras being there, documenting the group’s progress. The only people outside of the choreographers who have watched all practised were the few members of upper management. 

Your eyes fell back on his all black outfit, that shirt seeming all too familiar. The growing smile on his face only further confirmed your suspicions.

“You were pretending to be management?” you asked. He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged as he smiled knowingly at you. “I- well, thank you, I guess,” you finally breathed, growing more and more flustered as he looked at you.

He nodded, reverting his gaze to the ground. “And, um, I kind uh, well, here’s the thing,” he restarted, looking back up at you. His eyes met yours but no words followed. He just stared at you with a slightly panicked look in his eye while his mouth remained open. You parted your lips to ask if he was alright when he finally found his voice again. “I was wondering if I could get your number,” he quickly asked. 

“Me?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

Jungkook looked around the room with a small smile playing on his lips as he nodded again. “Who else would I be talking to?”

You breathed a giggle, rolling your eyes at his words. He redirected his grin to the ground, pleased with himself no doubt. It brought a similiar smile to your lips and you held your hand out to him, silently asking for his phone. 

However, Jungkook completely misinterpreted the gesture. His smile widened and he slipped his large hand into your small one, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. Your breath got caught in your throat by the action, but he didn’t seem to catch onto that either. He swung your joined hands a bit, an innocent grin on his face.

“This is very nice,” you started, “but, I was actually wanting your phone, so I could type in my number.” 

His cheeks redden as he immediately let go of your hand. You giggled a bit at his flustered state. He quickly patted his pockets for his phone. “I’m really sorry,” he laughed a bit with you, before pulling his phone out of his back pocket. He fiddled around with it before handing it to you. 

Your hands brushed as you took it and he redirected his gaze to something behind you. You knew he was just trying to avoid your gaze so you didn’t bother to follow his line of sight. Your mind was way too absorbed by what he had written in the contacts name. He had your initials with a little pink heart beside it, making you blush. You spared him a glance, wondering how the hell he knew your last name when you remembered that he sat in for quite a lot of classes and most likely heard Mijin call on you by it. 

Jungkook met your gaze for a second, nervously shifting in place. It was then that you knew you could really fall for him. And that fact didn’t worry you in the slightest.

“You’re late,” you greeted as you opened the door.

Jungkook smiled widely, hoping it was enough to make up for the fact that he didn’t text or call to tell you so. It was working, but you didn’t want him know to that. You wanted to make him pay a little for making you wait so long. After casting him your best unimpressed expression, you turned around and walked back into the kitchen to check on your ramen. 

“We weren’t allowed to leave until we got the shot right,” he explained after shutting the door and kicking off his shoes. “And you know how the guys get when they’re tired.” He walked into the kitchen to find the spread you promised to make him this time all laid out. An excited smile graced his lips as he took it all in. “Is this a preview of what I’d be coming home to?” he asked. 

You hummed in response, keeping your back to him as you portioned out the noodles. Little kisses peppered the nape of your neck and moved up your jawline as muscular arms wrapped around your body. You blushed, turning your face away from him so he won’t see. It only made him tighten his grip, his body now pressed against yours. A giggle escaped you as you tried to fight off his hold. He laughed into the kisses, keeping you in place without much effort. 

“Okay, okay,” you laughed, finally turning to face him. 

A soft smile greeted you before you were pulled into a sweet kiss. You could never get tired of his kisses, not realizing how much you needed them in your life until you had them. A little whine left you when he pulled away. 

Jungkook leaned his forehead against yours, whispering, “I’m sorry; I should’ve let you know.”

You shrugged, fighting off a smile. “It’s fine, I knew you’d be late so the food’s not that cold anyway.” 

Jungkook tilted his head at you, tightening his grip once more. You laughed as he attacked your neck with kisses again. 

“If you wanted my attention, you should’ve just asked, babe,” he smirked against your jaw. His lips trailed up your chin, placing teasing little pecks around your lips too. 

You tried to fight off a smile and catch his lips with yours but he skillful dodged them, too keen on teasing you. “Jungkook,” you exclaimed in frustration. You parted your lips to tell him off when he finally gave into your request, pressing his lips to yours. His tongue gently nudged yours and you quietly moaned onto the kiss, feeling a blush spread across your chest. 

He pulled away with a smile, those cute teeth on full display. He didn’t say anything for a while, just stood and gazed back. “I love you,” he murmured, brushing the tip of his nose on yours. 

You’ve only been dating for about five months, spending every free second you had together and he’d already confessed his love for you multiple times. You’ve always returned it, mirroring his smile and shy eyes. You knew you loved him, and meant it every time you said it, but this time you felt it with every ounce of your being. Every part of you melted into his frame, drowning in everything that was him. Your lips sweetly latched onto his again, a softer take on the kiss you previously shared. “I love you too,” you smiled. 

“Good,” he smirked. He gave you one last peck before reaching behind you and grabbing the two bowls of noodles. “Now, let’s go eat before the food gets cold.”

You let out a little sigh as you watched him walk away, already missing his warmth. You knew that if you called him back, he’d gladly agree to heat the food up later and humour every one of your desires right now. But, you could tell from the tired look in his eyes, that he was trying hard to fight off, that he really needed to relax. You turned to the rest of the plates instead and took them to the table.

Jungkook had set your plates beside each other rather than across, making you furrow your brows. He usually liked his own space when he was eating to be able to move freely, and you never really took offence to that, knowing that sometimes you wanted that same courtesy. You searched around for him to find his broad back. He was hunched over the bluetooth speaker in the living room, looking between the speaker and his phone to probably try to connect them. You thought that maybe he was excited to put some music on, seeing as he usually always is, and didn’t think to set the plates properly. You took the liberty of doing that yourself, placing the kimchi and beef plates down in the middle and resetting the bowls of noodles across from each other. 

As you walked back into the kitchen, you heard Jungkook call over the music he chose, “Babe!” You grabbed the wine glasses and bottle before walking back to the table, humming your concern. “You don’t wanna sit next to me?” He asked with a playful smile, resetting all the plates so that they were easier to reach from one side of the table.

“You do?” You raised a brow at him as you set down the glasses. 

He took the bottle from you and nodded. “Maybe I missed you today,” he shrugged as he poured some into the glasses. You sat down, taking a sip of your drink as he continued. “Didn't you miss me?” The smug tone in his voice made you roll your eyes at him. 

You kissed his cheek when he sat down beside you, slightly staining his red from the wine. You brushed your thumb over the area, wiping the colour away. He took a bite of his food, groaning out his approval as you pushed his fringe back a bit. A blush coloured your cheeks at his reaction. 

“You’re not overreacting, are you?” you questioned with a smile playing on your lips. 

“Oh my god,” he mumbled around his food. “You can’t fake this,” he insisted, shoving another piece of meat in his mouth. 

You giggled and began digging in as well. “Who’s covering for you this time?” you asked before taking another bite. 

“Jin,” he replied before chugging the last bit of his wine. “I promised to buy him lunch tomorrow in exchange for his help,” he sat back, looking at the wine bottle as if wondering if he should have another glass. 

You chuckled at his spaced out expression, knowing he was serious debating how badly he wanted another glass. He looked at you, a small smile dancing on his lips. “Want another?” he asked, leaning his arm on the back of your chair. You took your last bite before shaking your head at him. He seemed to use that as his own deciding factor, nodding along. 

His hand slid from your chair to your thigh as he smiled fondly at you. “You look so cute with your cheeks filled with food like that,” he laughed, pulling out his phone to take a picture. 

You held your hand up at the camera, trying to chew on your food faster. His hand held yours down easily, repeated the action when you used your other hand to block your face. The way he was able to easily hold down both your hands in one of his own made you blush. You rolled your eyes as he took the phone, making his giggle into his screen. He let go of your hands and began fiddling around with the picture.

You finally finished eating before saying, “you better not be saying that to anyone.” 

He furrowed his brows at you, immediately shaking his head. “Nah, this gem is mine,” he winked at you. 

You nudged his shoulder, laughing at his cuteness. He barely moved, and didn’t make an effort to even fake the effects, all too busy gazing down at his phone. You playfully exaggerated a sigh and began picking up the plates in front of you. “So obsessed,” you said, feigning annoyance in your tone as you walked back to the kitchen. 

“Obsessed?” he questioned behind you. You jumped, dropping the plates in the sink. You hadn’t heard him even stand up, let alone follow you back into the kitchen. You turned around to face him to find his body towering yours. He took a step forward, closing whatever space was left between you as his hand caressed your cheek. “I think I’m just in love, babygirl,” he whispered as he hovered his lips over yours. 

You smiled, leaning up and pressing your lips against his tenderly. Your hands, previously clutching onto the counter’s edge behind you, moving up his sides to his shoulders. “I know you are, daddy,” you replied when he pulled away a bit, watching his smirk widen and eyes darken.

He ran a gentle hand through your hair only to roughly grip onto it. A tiny whine left you but he didn’t pay much mind to it. He pulled your head back, forcing your gaze to lower to get a better look at him. His head lowered a bit as his tongue darted out and swiped a lick over your lips, earning a quiet moan from you. “What did I say about being bratty, babygirl?” he asked, voice dropping an octave. 

You gulped, pressing your thighs together as you felt yourself getting wetter. “Are you saying I’m wrong, daddy? Are you not in lov- Ah!” you gasped as his strong hand came down on your ass. You opened your mouth to apologize but it only earned you another spank, jolting your body against his. 

“Did I or did I not ask a question?” He looked down at you, a smug smirk playing on his lips. He was definitely having too much fun with this and if you weren’t starting to get needy, you probably would’ve kept talking back. 

You bit your lip and nodded, easily complying. He raised a brow, silently ordering you to answer the first question he asked you. It was all part of his game, a lesson you learned the hard way when you two were still exploring the other’s likes and dislikes when it came to the other’s body. He liked seeing you so openly compliant, melting into his every word and touch, as if you didn’t do that already. But when he was in this role, he wanted to see the desperate plea of your eyes, and feel the way you quivered and whined for him. And from the hard bulge pressed against your abdomen, you could tell that he was getting exactly what he wanted. 

“You’ll punish me if I’m bratty, daddy,” you finally answered. He must’ve been satisfied because he released his hold on your hair, patting it down gently. 

He nudged his nose against yours, slightly leaning away from your lips when you’ve puckered them for a kiss. “I don’t think you’ve fully learned that lesson yet, baby,” he said as he curled a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. 

You hummed, the sound somewhere between a moan and chuckle. You were way too eager to see what he had in mind and it was all too clear to him. You could tell by the way his eyes flashed with amusement that he was enjoying seeing you so excited about it. However, he quickly recovered, eyes darkening once again as he gripped your ass with both hands. You gasped, giggling against his neck as your hands slid down to his chest. 

“You’re having way too much fun,” Jungkook laughed, leaning back to look at you. 

You raised a brow, trying to fight off a blush and asked, “And you’re not, daddy?” 

His lips quirked up in a mocking smile before he reached his hands to the back of your dress, tearing it apart in one swift motion. The thin straps fell off your shoulders, his chest against yours the only thing keeping it up. “Kookie,” you whined, reaching a hand back to feel the ripped seams. “This was one of my favourites.”

Jungkook chuckled, smirk widening as he rolled his eyes. Your skin prickled with goosebumps at the sight then from the cold as he moved back enough to let the dress fall. “I’ll buy you another, baby,” he promised, eyes shamelessly wandering down. 

“I don’t another,” you pouted as he gazed at your breasts. You weren’t wearing a bra, the dress not necessarily calling for one so your nipples instantly hardened from the sudden cold. 

He dragged his eyes back up to yours, looking less than impressed. “You walked around all day without a bra, baby?” he questioned before circling around your naked frame. 

You instantly felt small with him somewhere behind you. You could only just feel the faint fan of his breath over your shoulders. He placed both hands on your hips and gently guided you to the counter. You weren’t really sure what he had in mind. Usually, at this point, Jungkook would have carried you somewhere more comfortable, somewhere he could press your face into as he fucked you relentlessly. 

He stopped you the moment your hips were pressed against the edge of the counter. The clatter of his belt filled the room, making you wet with anticipation. He was really drawing this out more than he normally did. Before you could even think to question his actions, both your hands were pulled back behind you. His belt wrapped around them, tightening the restraint to ensure you couldn’t break the hold. 

“Daddy?” you asked, looking back at him over your shoulder. 

Jungkook froze at the tone of your voice. He pushed your hair out of your face, leaning towards you and placing a sweet kiss to your cheek. “You remember the safe word, baby?” he murmured, that loving tone of his returning as he stroked your hair. 

You nodded, replying, “gold.”

He softly smiled and nodded. “Do you wanna use it?”

You shook your head, biting your lip. 

The switch flicked back on, eyes darkening once again. “Then shut the fuck up, babygirl.” He pushed you down over the counter. 

You were on your toes, ass propped up as you whined at the coldness of the marble beneath your naked torso. You squirmed, trying to look over your shoulder at him. He was in the middle of stripping, taking his layers off starting with his plaid shirt then his white t-shirt. You drank in the sight of his chest, pressing your thighs together as a little moan left you. 

He must’ve noticed the action, looking up to meet your helpless gaze with his lust-filled one. He smirked and ran a hand down your spine, making your shiver and nervously giggle. “You’re too fucking sexy,” he sighed. He was most definitely horny, but the sincerity in his voice couldn’t be missed. You leaned your head back on the counter, blushing to yourself like you weren’t naked and bent over, ready for him to fuck and play with. 

His hands rested on your hips, pulling down your panties. He remained on his knees, spreading your cheeks to lick at your pussy. You helped him get better access, spreading your legs for him. His tongue flicked at your clit a few times before his lips latched onto it, sucking and licking all too erotically for you to handle. Your thighs began to tremble and he laughed.

“I barely started, babe. Don’t ruin all my fun,” he teased against your folds then lapped at them. He shook his head between your thighs, lips rubbing against your pussy. 

“Daddy,” you mewled, moving your hips against his face for more. You were so close, voice getting higher as your walls clenched around his tongue, making him laugh again. “Yes, fuck yes, daddy. Ye- fuck!” you cried out getting up to turn around only to have him push you back down. You huffed, pushing your ass back on him in defiance. How the hell did he even get back on his feet that fast? 

He kissed your back, trailing open mouth kisses up and down your spine and around your shoulders. “Were you about to cum without permission, babygirl?” he questioned, smacking your pussy this time. The wet slap echoed in your ears, pulling a pornographic gasp from your lips. He groaned in response, smacking your sensitive pussy again just to hear you whimper, “daddy please.”

“Please what, slut?” he chuckled, his cock now sliding between your pussy lips. When the fuck did he get his pants off? You hadn’t even heard the little thump of his pants hitting the floor. Did he even take them off or did he just pull his cock out, too eager to fuck you to properly undress like he preferred to do? When you felt the warmth of his legs against your thighs, you got your answer. 

You squirmed, rolling your hips to move his cock against your clit. He stood up straight, removing his lips from your back. One of his strong hands held your hips in place while the other slapped his cock up on your pussy. You squealed into the marble surface, moaning his name then correcting it to his role title when he’d smack your ass again. 

“Fuck, just ruin me already,” you begged. “Please daddy, please.” 

He leaned down to bite your shoulder and whispered, “Has my baby learned her lesson?” You nodded immediately, moaning quietly as he licked the shell of your ear. He stood back to his full height, pumping himself a bit before aligning himself to your entrance. He gave in all too quickly, but you figure he was getting pretty needy himself. He slowly pushed in, groaning with his whole chest as he gripped each asscheek of yours. “Shit, baby,” he hissed. 

Your eyes were already rolling to the back of your head. He was so big, like huge, as if he grew further while he was in you even though he was already rock hard. He was stretching your walls so delightfully, it made your mouth water for him to push his cock against the walls of your throat too. 

The moment he bottomed out, he didn’t even wait for you to adjust. He began his harsh thrusts, using the grip he had on your ass as leverage. Your moans stuttered with each snap of his hips, voice catching each time he hit or even brushed your g-spot. It always surprised you how easily he found it, like he already knew the way around your pussy. He really took the idea of ruining you to the next level, your mind already foggy with lust.

“Ah, fuck,” Jungkook whispered, groaning with you every time your moans would peak. “Is this what you wanted, babygirl?” he questioned. 

You didn’t have it in your to reply but he didn’t care, smacking your ass to ensure you’d answer. “Yes, daddy,” you mewled. Little sobs bubbled out of your throat and he bent over your frame while his hips still slammed against your ass. In this new position, you could fully feel his balls smack against your pussy. The weighty sack pounded as harshly against your clit as his cock did to your walls. 

It didn’t help your case at all that Jungkook began to kiss the nape of your neck and your head. “Shit, how the fuck are you this tight?” he whispered, his husky voice tickling your skin. 

Your tears began to surface at the conflicting rough and soft actions, your body unsure what to soak up first. Everything he did just hit you at once. “Look at you, baby,” he whispered. “Look at how good you take me. You know, I honestly believe this tight little hole of yours was made for me, babygirl, don’t you?”

You only cried out in response. He chuckled and stood back up, starting to feel your pussy tighten around him. “Ah, my babygirl wants to cum, hmm?” he moaned, sounding pretty close himself. 

“Y-yes please, da-ddy,” you whimpered through your tears. Fuck, he was way to good at this, ruining more than your pussy. Your heart would tremble every time he called on you as his babygirl or kissed you tenderly. He was fucking with more than just your pussy and knew it all too well, only making him that much more sexy and your mind that much more blown. 

“Fuck, Jungkook just let me cum!” you screamed, when he didn’t answer your pleads. You looked back at him, loose strands of your hair sticking to your tear-stained cheeks. 

Jungkook smiled, pushing your hair back. “Go on, baby,” he winked. You screamed, as you finally let yourself release your high, gushing all over him. Your legs were quaking now, along with your body and you tried to fight the hold of his belt around your wrist but he tightened all too well. The sounds of your pussy got drenched with wet slouches and sploshes of your orgasm. 

He felt himself about to unravel too but knew you still needed to ride out your orgasm, still having lots left to give him. He pulled out as one of his hands reached down to rub your clit. His other hand pumped his cock, aiming to shoot all over your ass. He underestimated the power of his shot, cum flying all over your back and arms instead, reaching as far as the nape of your neck and getting in your hair. “Fuck,” he hissed, hoping you wouldn’t be too mad about it. 

You were too consumed by the ongoing overstimulation as his fingers were still rubbing harshly at your clit. He hadn’t noticed you’ve been crying and squirming, pressing your legs together until he couldn’t move his hand anymore. “Okay, okay,” you sighed desperately. Even knowing his hand was still down there made your body tremble. 

Jungkook pulled his hand away, resting his hands on either side of you as you both tried to catch your breath. “There’s cum in your hair,” he muttered after a while. 

“I know,” you breathed. He fell silently, unclasping the belt around your wrist. You let out a sigh of relief, moving your hands to your sides to push yourself up. 

“Careful,” he whispered, watching his cum drip down your back and to your ass. He smirked to himself as he admired his work. Your pussy was all but throbbing, looking more precious than ever, and your body was covered in sweat, tears or his cum. You were a mess to say the least; a mess he made, his mess.

You turned back to him, face flushed as you reached out to hold onto him. “You okay, baby?” he murmured against your forehead. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he steadied you by placing his hands on your hips. 

“Just fine, kookie,” you smiled. “A bit fucked out, but I’m okay.” You giggled at your own words, making him smile down at you. 

He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, walking your backwards towards the bathroom. “How about we clean you up, then fix the mess we made in there?” he suggested, nodding back to the kitchen. 

“You’re washing the dishes,” you said as you scratched the short hair at the nape of his neck. 

He hummed a half-hearted agreement, rolling his eyes a bit. “We’ll see,” he shrugged. 

“We will,” you insisted as you entered the backroom. “Hey!” you giggled after his hand came down on your ass again. This smack was lighter than the others, made to tease you and nothing more. 

“I love you,” he smiled, all annoyance in your face disappearing. You hated how easily he could fix everything with those three words.

“I love you too.”

The pictures surfaced a month or so after the release of the official music video. Someone had caught you too getting bubble tea late at night. Over fifty photos were taken, each one a different angle of every part of your conversation, capturing flattering and unflattering shots of you alike. 

The first wave of hate was mainly targeted to the way you looked, or didn’t look. “Nothing like his past crushes,” they’d note in multiple different languages, dragging everything you didn’t have through mud with your pride in tow. 

The second wave of hate was dedicated to how unfit you were for someone like Jungkook, as if they knew him like you did. He didn’t put much of a persona in front of the cameras, but there was a small part of him reserved for you, the guys, and his family. They talked about him like he belonged to them only and you simply didn’t fit the equation because you didn’t know him like they did. 

The first two waves were bearable. Hard to manage, but bearable. The third wave was the most nerve-wracking. You were too scared to leave your house, missing dance practises at other companies because of all the messages you’ve got sent to your address. You didn’t tell Jungkook about it at first, wanting to handle it on your own. Management told you this would be a risk, but you didn’t want to believe that anyone could hate a stranger that much. 

You spent the first month after receiving the letters not making any unnecessary trips out, like attending parties or lunch dates. You asked Jungkook to meet you at your house and would fake feeling sick to get him to agree to stay in. The next couple of months were all too scary to even think about leaving the house at all, even to go to work. You’d only leave every now and then to stock up on massive amounts of ramen. You talked to your agent for hours on end, explaining that you wanted to take a semi-hiatus from all practises and events as you weren’t feeling well. She pushed you on it for a while, asking if there was anything else going on behind the scenes that you weren’t sharing. You always denied it, regretting it now. 

“I just want to go out tonight,” Jungkook shrugged. “I thought you didn’t mind too much about going public after the photos.” He stroked your hair back as you rested your head on his chest. “I wanna treat you to the date you deserve.”

The smile on his face broke your heart. He looked so in love, entranced by whatever beauty he saw in you. It made him that much more ignorant to your pain and fear, to the erratic thumping of your heart at just the thought of going out. 

You avoided his gaze, nuzzling against his chest. “I rather just stay in,” you muttered. 

He huffed, ceasing all affectionate actions. His hand fell off your body, somewhere behind you as his other tucked under his head. You looked up to find him glaring at the ceiling, a scowl taking over his features. 

“Are you embarrassed to be seen with him or something?” he asked after a moment of you staring at him. He met your gaze, the hurt so evident in his eyes it was enough to swell tears in your own. He furrowed his brows, sitting up and pulling you with him. “What is it?”

You turned away from him, giving him your back as you wiped your tears away. “Nothing,” you squeaked, internally cursing at the tone of your voice. His hand rubbed up and down your back soothingly. You knew it was meant to calm you down, but it only made you want to cry even more. 

He shifted closer to you upon hearing your sniffles and wrapped his arms around your waist. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Maybe I don’t want your help,” you snapped, pushing yourself out of his grasp.

Jungkook held onto your wrist, pulling you back to him. You turned back, regretting meeting his gaze because the confusion and pain mixed within his doe-like eyes completely shattered you. You began sobbing uncontrollably. He gasped, crawling over to you and pulling you into a strong embrace. Your body shook as more sobs left you and he rubbed your back, whispering reassurances that you couldn’t quite fully register since his voice was much deeper in a whisper than his normal tone and volume. 

“You’re really scaring me, (Y/N),” he confessed, voice slightly breaking too. “Just please tell me what’s wrong, baby.” He was practically begging you for an answer, any answer would do just as long as you talked to him about it. 

After a few more minutes of crying and him lulling you back to stuttered hiccups and ragged breathing, you finally confessed everything. You pulled the letters out, showing them to him and explained all that you have done to keep yourself safe and why you felt like you never wanted to leave your house again. You even had to switch on your privacy settings for all your social media accounts a few months back. You hadn’t been on them in months though so you weren’t really sure how that was going over.

Jungkook read through each one silently, pausing every so often to sigh or run a hand through his hair. “Why didn't you tell me earlier?” he asked. He couldn’t even meet your gaze, too disappointed with himself for not noticing all this before. “I could’ve protected you.”

“I don’t know,” you confessed, leaning back against the headboard. “I didn’t want to bother you with it.”

He furrowed his brows. “You never bother me, you know that. I told you that I don’t care what they say. They’re not the real fans, (Y/N). You’ve been so focused on all the bullshit you haven’t once looked at any of the support.”

“What support? Do you not see what’s in your hand?” You questioned. “I’m being threatened daily, Jungkook.” 

He shook his head at you. You scoffed, tears pooling once more. You couldn’t believe he was brushing you off like this. 

Jungkook looked down at the notes again, muttering, “If you had told me sooner, none of this would’ve happened. We have the best guards. I would’ve personally paid for twenty-four hour surveillance.” He tossed the notes to the side, looking back at you. He wiped your tears as he continued, “If you had logged in like I've been telling you to do for weeks, you would’ve known that all your social media accounts have filtered out all the hate. You would’ve seen the overwhelming support that I do. You have no idea who the true fans even are anymore, do you?”

You sighed, pulling your legs into your chest. You couldn’t believe how fucking stupid you were being. Everything just happened so fast, the initial leak of one of your dates already feeling like a violation of privacy. You took every cruel word to heart, deeming it the epitome of a fandom you, yourself were a part of. Why you tried to seek comfort in the hate all the trolls offered was just as backwards to you as it was to Jungkook. 

“I’m so sorry,” you croaked, trying to blink back another round of tears. “I was just scared.” You let him pull you into his lap, crawling over his legs to seat yourself comfortable. 

Jungkook hugged you tightly, scattering tiny kisses on your head. “I’m sorry I didn’t see all this sooner. I’m gonna fix this, baby,” he promised, already going to reach for his phone. 

You looked up at him through the tears as he frantically texted his manager all the details of your last few months. Your hand covered his phone, pushing it out of his view. He shot you a confused gaze. You didn’t explain, only leaned up to press your lips against his. “You already did,” you whispered. 

 “I love you,” Jungkook smiled, “and so do they.”

You nodded. “I love you,” you pecked his lips once more, “and I’m starting to love them too.”

----

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

[wxbitna]

hello my good dudes it is i, gemma, back on my bullshit 🤪 on today’s episode i’m introducing my bby gorl bitna, the one who looks real elegant on the outside but that’s only bc her posture is unclockable ( do not speak 2 her it will ruin the illusion ). if uve watched winx, she may b a lil familiar 2 stella bc,,, ya girl lacks creativity n what about it!! ok anw, under the cut is a longform ramble summary of her!! skip 2 the end for some cool plot ideas 🤪 also please spare this post a LIKE to plot!! i can do tumblr ims or u can find me on my discord ( ding dong#8039 ) ☆

2 all u astrology hoes (( me )) she’s a virgo sun, capricorn moon, taurus rising  🤪

hails from a family of v accomplished ballerinas & was a ballerina herself! she’s... honestly she’s not bad at it?? but her skill is v much thru loads of practice as opposed to the rest of her family, who also practices A Lot but as a cute bonus, are also blessed w the it factor

has some weird sister (?) complex... she’s in the corps de ballet ( like... think background dancers ) while byeol was a principal dancer even tho they’re only 2 years apart : ) her sister is the best ballerina to come from the long line of song ballerinas & everyone knows this

bitna is insanely jealous of her sister ( someone give bitna the worst sibling award ) bc byeol is taller, prettier, more extroverted, friendlier, beautifuller, amazinger like literally everything n bitna is just a bitter bitch

anw bitna’s and her family’s lives revolve around ballet so no one rlly pays any mind to anything outside of it, like they truly be existing in this tchaikovsky bubble

when bitna was 14-15, her powers of light manifested and she had a real talent for it?? she showed this off to her family in a ‘hey guys... look at me... there’s more than just ballet guys i’m real good at light haha’ kinda way n her parents were like lol uh cool n e ways...

so back to ballet 🤪 all that practice paid off and the company wants to promote her to a soloist and gave her her first principal dance, so bitna’s life was truly lookin up!! ( this was probably at the start of 2021 )

she practices so much that she overworked herself bc she was just so nervous n rlly did not want to fuck it up 

this backfired bc... bc she overworked herself, she ended up falling on stage twice, vomiting, then proceeding to run away mid-performance w the music still playing in the bg...

needless to say she quit ballet ( in a way that’s like no u didn’t fire me bc i quit!! ) n she realises then that she rlly has nothing to hold onto? like her life was genuinely all abt ballet she barely even has friends

but she remembers her talent w light so she takes the pre-enrolment assessment n passes!! so now she’s off to the academy bc ya girl is pulling the v classic so i clowned myself n now im running away n changing my name

if u know her u don’t

also idk where to put this but it seems like an impt point, but ya girl has a superiority complex ( aka acting superior as a defense mechanism for her feelings of inferiority ) n this also extends to the way she dresses aka she’s overdressed 110% of the time

she also has really dry humour and can be v quick to point out the obvious ( character inspo: phoebe from friends ) and people may confuse this for her being blunt n rude but she’s honestly just socially awkward guys

short summary am i right 🤪 ok now for some plot ideas!!

ur muse knows enough abt ballet to recognise her sister : ) cue “wait aren’t you song byeol? omg”

ur muse watches so much faetube n stumbled upon this viral video of this ballerina literally falling, puking on stage, n running tf away... wait isn’t that her

ur muse met bitna like Once n maybe they were acquaintances, n last u remembered she was all abt ballet n was so uppity abt it too so wtf is she doing in the academy this is like the polar opposite to that

where her roomies at!? bitna is the worst roommate in existence ( think hogging the bathroom, leaving her shit around the common areas cause she has nvr roomed w anyone in her life and doesn’t understand this common decency... at least she’s a clean person? hehe )

u guys r at the bulletin board n there’s only one (1) spot left for training simulations... her tall ass rudely steps between u n the board to put her name down... a fight ensues

bitna is a m*n objectifier so pls someone match w her on wink i would love to see how this date goes down w her awkward ass

ur in class tryna concentrate on ur element n u hear someone say “you’re doing it wrong” v snippily. it’s bitna. wyd

may she pls hav a crumb of besties 🥺👉👈

[xpao-bearx]

Part 1 HERE

NOTE: OMG I really wasn't expecting for the previous first part of Heavenly Sins to blow up as it did, but I just wanted to give a huuuge THANK YOU to all of you amazing folks!! 🥰🥰🥰 Your support truly means so fooken much to trashy ol' meh and y'all are the reason I am writing this story series in the first place :')

I do have my ideas, but I still don't know much yet of what to do or even how long (or short) this story will get. So, if you would continue to give me your mindblowing support, it would seriously mean the W O R L D.

I do, however, very much enjoy writing Negan in particular so far. He's one of my absolute fave characters ever and JEFFREY DEAN FUCKIN' MORGAN NEED I SAY MOAR?!? 🥵💕💕

But this second part will be focusing a bit more on our beloved sheriff Ricky boi! Of course, Daryl will also get some much deserved love and attention tho I think he will appear in the story a lil later on.

Also, if you ever feel compelled, you are more than welcome to take some inspo from this story and make your own imagines and such! I'd love to see 'em, so please tag me 😁

P.S. There won't always be long ass notes like this, only if I wanna say something or bring up whatever is important. Also, if you wanna be tagged on any new/future story parts, then just tell moi and I will dedicate the latest one to the people who wanted to be tagged!

DEDICATED TO: The wonderful @buttercandy16 💖

"Heavenly Sins"

Part 2

After your little spiel, you haven't spoken to Negan since then. But on the way home after church, you passed by his house and found him tinkering away on his motorcycle (which you previously learned he interestingly named Lucille) in the garage. Not being able to help yourself, you paused in your tracks and just curiously watched him for a while.

His leather jacket was off, revealing a plain white t-shirt. The shirt was quite tight, and you noted how it perfectly hugged the taut muscles of his chest. Your eyes then slowly trailed to his toned arms, adorned by tattoos you wished you had a better look at. He stopped briefly, placing his tools down before grabbing the hem of his shirt and wiping the sweat on his forehead.

You didn't even think twice as your eyes dropped, hyperfocused on his abs. He wasn't the buffest guy out there, but he was lean and fit and--to put it bluntly--hot. A part of you screamed bloody murder to get a grip on yourself, to just turn your stiff body around and proceed on home. But another part completely squashed down those protests without even a fight; as if your pathetic excuse of a resolve wasn't even meant in the first place.

"Take a goddamn picture, darlin'. It'll last longer."

Your head snapped up, meeting the tantalizing hazel stare of Negan. His lips were curled in a smug smirk, and nevermore in your entire life have you wanted to both slap and kiss someone so badly.

But you only clicked your tongue, shooting him a sharp glare before (at last!) turning and walking away as you hid your blush. In the distance, his amused chuckle begrudgingly sounded like the sweetest fucking music to your ears.

♡♡♡

You woke up at 7:05 a.m. like you typically did the next morning, Monday. It was the dawn of a new week, and while most people dreaded it you actually didn't mind it so much. You had your job to thank for that.

Sure, it wasn't always easy, but it was worth it in the end. You loved teaching and spending time with the children, and you were even more ecstatic since you knew Judith was going to be at the daycare.

As you finished eating breakfast and preparing for the day, you grabbed your bag then went out the door. You opted to walk again today, the weather far too beautiful to miss plus the daycare really wasn't that far away.

Eventually arriving at your destination, you approached the daycare building's doors with a little spring in your step. Once inside, a young woman with her blonde hair high in a ponytail smiled and waved.

"Hi, Y/N! Goodmorning!" Beth Greene greeted energetically.

"Morning, Beth." You chuckled, the girl's radiant smile infectious. You've known Beth for some time now, especially since the Greenes were one of the oldest families in Alexandria and they were well respected. But you got along best with Beth, you thought she was the friendliest and she was also the latest hire of the daycare.

Stashing your bag away in your personal locker, you fixed yourself up a bit before getting your nametag and sticking it on your top. Looking up at the wall clock, you read that it was 7:50 a.m. Perfect, just in time for the kids' drop-offs.

You waited outside with Beth and the rest of the daycare workers, until finally the parents started rolling in. It was the usual; some of the children were wailing, snot snivelling down their nose as their embarrassed parents tried to tug them away from clinging onto their legs. You could only offer a sympathetic smile as you tried to help, while other children were much more relaxed and didn't even spare a second glance at their parents as they were dropped off.

"Well, that's about all of them." Beth piped up.

"Wait, we're still waiting for Judith." You said, searching for the toddler. "Rick said she'd be here."

Beth checked her watch, her brows creasing a little in worry. "That's odd. Sheriff Grimes is never late when he's dropping Judith off."

Just as she said that, there was a honk that disrupted the peace. You and Beth both spotted a crying Judith being held by Lori, the woman appearing utterly exhausted before her eyes locked with yours and didn't waste another second dashing towards you.

"Please don't run when you're holding Judith. Also, no honking is allowed on the premises." It was hard for you to keep the malice out of your voice, but you mentally gave yourself a pat on the back since you miraculously managed to not make it sound the worst it could get.

Lori raised a brow at you, but only handed Judith over to you. Judith immediately quieted down when she saw it was you, you cooing gently at her as she giggled and snuggled up comfortably against your chest.

"Rick will be picking her up later." Was all Lori said, pressing a quick peck on Judith's curly little head before parting ways. As Lori rushed back to the car, you saw Shane in the driver's seat shamelessly attack her neck with fervent kisses and you couldn't restrain an eyeroll.

"Fucking bitch..." You grumbled.

"Uh-oh. Bad!" Judith giggled again, clapping her hands gleefully.

"Right, right. Bad. Don't copy me, okay?" You laughed, completely forgetting about your aggravation as you rubbed your nose with Judith's and went inside.

♡♡♡

The rest of the day rolled along splendidly. No one threw a tantrum and for the most part, all the kids properly shared the wide assortment of toys and even did their activities orderly and on time. So, you decided to indulge them with a small yet much sought after reward.

Painting.

When it comes down to children, painting can be utter chaos. But you figured since they were being so good, you'd allow it. At the daycare you worked in, painting was quite a rare occurrence and that only solidified how much the kids adored it.

Once the materials were set out, it was a dizzying flurry of excited hands grabbing anything it could latch on to. As the kids went about doing their creative business, you found Judith all alone sitting in the corner playing around with some blocks.

"Whatcha doin' there, Judi?" You asked, sweetly calling out her nickname. "You don't wanna paint?"

"I wanna, but not with papers." She replied, shaking her head.

"Oh? Then where do you wanna paint?"

"I wanna paint on faces, but no one wants me to!"

"If that's the case, then I'd be more than happy to let you paint my face." You smiled.

"Really?!" Judith's whole face lit up, jumping up and wrapping her tiny arms around you as tightly as she could. "Thank youuu!"

You chuckled, ruffling her hair and watching as she happily gathered some paint and brushes.

♡♡♡

It was finally the end of a long day, and your face felt a bit itchy from the paint Judith put on you. But it didn't matter; as long as the little girl was happy, it was the best damn day ever.

You were holding Judith's hand as you waited outside for Rick to pick her up, and once he came up with his car Judith beamed.

"Daddy!"

"Hello, sweetheart. Did you have a nice day?" His face looked tired, his greying beard making him appear slightly older than he really was, but his smile was genuine as he carried Judith in his strong arms.

"The bestest! Y/N lemme paint her face!"

"She did, huh? What did you pai--oh my god."

You bursted into laughter at his reaction, flashing him a toothy grin. "In the words of Judi: You're a pretty tiger! Grr!"

"Now that you mention it, I can see it." Rick joined in your laughter, nodding his head. "Looks like we've got a talented lil artist in our hands!"

"Daddy, I wanna paint your face next! You can be daddy tiger and Y/N can be mommy!" Judith proclaimed.

You and Rick flushed pink at the same exact time, but Rick was quick to clear his throat and change the topic. "A-Anyways, Y/N, how 'bout me and the kids give you a ride? Thank you for today, by the way."

"No problem, and sure! Thanks so much."

As you settled in the passenger's seat, two hands covered your eyes from behind. "Guess who~?"

"Hmm..." You hummed, making a show of thinking. "Are you an elf?"

"No!" The hands were removed, Carl popping his head out from the backseat to look at you as he laughed. "It's me!"

"Oh, sorry! You're just so short, I thought you were an elf." You teased good naturedly.

Carl huffed, sticking his tongue out at you. "Y'know, in a few years, I'll be way taller than you!"

Once Rick was done buckling Judith into her carseat, he took his place in the driver's seat and drove out of the premises. You just talked about anything that came to mind: work, the weather, Alexandria's local shops, etc. To anyone else, maybe it seemed like regular boring conversation. But speaking with Rick was truly one of the highlights of any of your days. He was extremely easy to talk to, and he never failed to cheer you up. And it was obvious Rick was the same. He was allowed to simply be himself around you; to loosen up, momentarily forget about the stress and sometimes even the woes that came along with being the town's upstanding sheriff.

As you were nearing your home, Carl decided to cut in.

"Y/N, can we stay at your house? It's been a while since we had a sleepover." Carl asked, his baby blue eyes identical to Rick's alight with hope.

It wouldn't be the first time Rick and the kids would be staying over. You were very close to the Grimes family, sometimes even almost considering them as your own. You didn't mind it. Since you lived alone, it can get pretty lonely. And having people around surely brightened up the house and made you keep your sanity.

"I don't mind, but you gotta ask your dad." You chuckled.

Carl turned to Rick, pouting and giving his best puppy dog eyes. Rick rolled his eyes, but couldn't suppress an inkling of a smile.

"Yeah, yeah. But let me drop you and Judith off with Y/N first. I'll be back, I just need to get some extra clothes and essentials."

"YAY!" Carl cheered, Judith following suit as they both raised their arms and hollered.

"You're so whipped for them." You laughed, shaking your head as you looked at Rick.

"I ain't denying that." He sighed dramatically, grinning.

[musicallisto]

Hello love,

Congratulations for the 800 followers! You absolutely deserve this and so much more! I'm happy to see how your blog grows and that you're still providing all of us with wonderful content. You're one of the first blogs that I've started to follow here on Tumblr and I'm so lucky to have found your blog ♡

As for your celebration event, could I please request a 🍨 vanilla milkshake with a male Peaky Blinders Character?

I'm more on the curvy side (and insecure about it) and I'm ALWAYS wearing black (which I love, no matter what others say or even more if they object). As for my personality, I'm a highly complex, paradox and complicated individium. I'm unbelievable patient, timid, awkward, kind, forgiving, open-minded, compassionate, thruthful, gentle and calm and I've been told that I have a calming effect on others, that I can easily ground anyone and anything, no matter how troubled their mind is. I prefer vintage over modern things. I think rather deep which often leads me to overthinking everything, which in turn leads me to doubting (very much) myself. You would be surprised how timid and reserved I am, I'm sure you wouln't notice me in a room full of people if it wouldn't be for my different appearance (but I like it this way). I'm always well-meaning, yet often misunderstood (maybe because it's hard for me to articulate myself). I can be incredible lazy, clumsy and forgetful. I've always felt like I don't really belong anywhere, so I've started to distance myself from others a while ago. I'm a outsider, weird, a dork, not normal, a loner and I fucking love it, because I like to be different, I would hate to fit into just one box and to be like everyone else. And I like people who are not ashamed to be their 100% true self, no matter how different that is from the mainstream. I'm the most loyal person you'll ever find, once you earn my trust, I'll always be on/by your side, no matter what. That says a lot, because I'm hard to scare away. Sometimes I feel alienated from the people and things surrounding me and I'm sure that I annoy and bore them. I'm very nervous and insecure around others, which is why I try to avoid people and why I'm not talking all that much around them (though, I'm a really good listener). I'm easily overwhelmed by large crowds and much light/noise, that's why I don't like to go outside, I prefer to cozy up at home. I would never intentionally hurt a animal and I'm not eating any meat, which is very important to me. I believe that there isn't a ounce of cruelty inside me. I'm unassuming and understanding, I only believe what I've witnessed on my own and I have endless acceptance for almost everything. Due to my Insomnia, I'm a night owl. I have strong personal values, am very opinionated and I'm really in-touch with myself and even though I'm extremly insecure, I would never reduce or change myself and views/opinions for someone and I neither have a problem to challenge authority and advocating for my beliefs. I'm a perfectionist and sometimes I really hate it. And, as you can see, I'm unable to be brief. My favourite colours are dark green, black, gold and dark purple. My greatest passion is music, even if I can't sing or play an instrument.(I prefer rock/punk/pop/80s/90s) It's the most calming and therapeutic thing when it comes to my anxiety and depression and I could never live a day without it. You will never see me in the street without headphones in my ears and even when I'm at home there's music playing almost all the time. I could talk for hours about music and what it means to me. And otherwise I love to watch films and series (I like fantasy, horror, psychological thriller, science fiction and psychological drama and almost anything from the 70s, 80s and 90s). I love rainy days and to go outside while it's pouring big, fat drops. What I love the most is to drive around without a destination, while talking and listening to music. And I love to spend time with my cat, if I could, I would have endless animals who live peacefully and loved with me. I enjoy to have deep talks and to be challenged to think. I love to take late-night-strolls, while gazing into the sky and watching the stars/moon. I have a fascination for dark and macabre things.

I really hope that's not too much? But thank you anyway ♡

Have a good day!

thank you so much for your kind words, you have no idea how much it means to me to know that I was one of the first blogs you followed ;; here’s your vanilla milkshake - and it’s also my first time writing for peaky blinders, but I hope it’s alright; and I hope finn shelby will find the portrait I paint of him accurate enough...

Birmingham was a drab and disheartening place enough without the war adding to its joylessness; but somehow the streets are even worse to bear deserted than when they’re bustling and fetid. Especially for a ten year old boy who wants nothing but to play with someone, to talk to someone, to see someone.

With his brothers off fighting somewhere in France and his aunt too busy with her businesses (adult stuff that Finn has absolutey no interest in attempting to understand), the youngest Shelby has been fighting off an affliction worse than consumption and measles, because much more insidious for a boy his age; boredom

and he’s so sad, so irrevocably sad, with no one to bruise his knees with and throw mud at, that he just aimlessly wanders the empty streets whenever aunt Polly isn’t looking, to find a semblance of stimulation

(he used to enjoy the solitude, it gave him time to imagine delirious stories in fantastical worlds and read the most enthralling of novels, but not anymore. four years of reclusion is an awfully long time for a little boy.)

and it’s during one of his escapades that he first meets you

you’re a little girl his age, dressed in a pretty dress, wearing pretty booties and holding a pretty little woven basket, but your face is stuck on the most grouchy frown he’s ever seen on a little girl, and you don’t walk, you stomp down the wet pavement like a wrathful titan

And it’s probably the first time in four years that he’s been this close to making a new friend, so he walks up to you, despite how rusty his communication skills have become

“Girls don’t frown. It’s unbecoming.”

(Yes, pretty rusty indeed; but in his defense, he’s ten, he’s bored, he’s lonely, and he’s only ever heard Ada say it, and Ada is the most level-headed of his siblings, so anything she says must be true, right?)

“Shut up.”

(Well, if it was unbecoming of you to frown, it’s even more to rebuff someone so rudely. You don’t even spare a glance and continue walking; he has to hurry to catch up to you.)

“You can’t say that. It’s a bad word.”

“How do you know that?”

“My family says it all the time, but they told me I can’t say it.”

“Well, my family is not your family. And I hate my family!”

You’ve yelled the last words at the sky, so loud that the crows on the neighboring roofs have taken off in a startled flight.

“They want to wear this stupid dress to go to the stupid market to buy stupid meat. I don’t even want to eat meat, that’s cruel! And I don’t even want to wear a frilly dress! I want to wear black!”

And in saying so you tugged at the pink and white ribbons that encircled your waist.

And Finn couldn’t help being extremely intrigued at this little girl who said bad words and refused to eat meet and wanted to wear black. It was the most exciting thing to ever happen in all the duration of the war.

“You want to wear a black dress?”

“Yes, but my mama won’t let me. She says it’s too sad because of the war. But black isn’t sad! Black is beautiful!”

“Maybe I could find you a black dress. I’m sure my sister must have one. Where do you live?”

And, loyal to his promise, the following morning he had run to your doorstep and snuck into your house - a proper Shelby talent, to be able to go unnoticed or make a ruckus depending on the occasion - with an old, crinkled mourning dress of Ada’s, that had probably belonged to his mother and had been mended several times

And it was obviously five sizes too big for you and you looked more like a ghost from one of Finn’s horror novels, your arms floating in the sleeves and the hem of the skirt pooling at your feet, but your smile was the brightest light he’d ever seen in this whole damn town.

“Do you like it?”

(He didn’t really know why he sounds so nervous. Maybe it was having a friend, a real friend, and doing something personal for them... or maybe it had to do with how fast his heart beat, watching you in that gigantic, shapeless dress)

“I love it! Thank you so much, Finn!”

From then on started one of the most wonderful friendships Finn would ever have, and what would bring a ray of light to the grim existence of a little boy in the midst of a global war

Despite the ration cards, despite the loneliness, despite the worry that tugged at his stoic aunt’s eyes for her son and nephews across the Channel... he found an unspeakable solace in your friendship

And one day, without a trace, you were gone

He knocked on your door; gone. He asked all the neighbors what had happened to the family that lived there; gone. He wrote you letters and sent them to the confines of England; gone. He got scolded by Polly for marking numbers at random on Tommy’s state-of-the-art telephone; gone.

Suddenly he was back to the bleak existence he had battled with before meeting you, and the hollow inside his chest only grew wider as the days went on, because he had no explanation as to what had happened to you, and worried every single day

Thankfully, the war ended not long after, and his brothers came back home, all alive and unscathed - well, for the most part

Fast forward more or less ten years, and much has changed in Finn Shelby’s life and in old Birmingham, but the memory of you still stugs at his heartstrings

One evening, he’s tasked by Arthur to run some errands, send a few messages, scout a few places; the most dangerous thing his older brothers will ever let him do

His task leads him to a bar in the center of town, one that pours its joyous light and music into the street outside; he’s there to meet with a client, arrange a meeting; nothing he’s hasn’t done already

But the evening takes a turn for the unexpected when he recognizes the girl sat alone at a table, enjoying the musicians’ jazz with an air of pure bliss on her face

It’s been ten years, of course, but... it’s unmistakable. That face, that silhouette, and the black ensemble from head to toe... and he’s always had a knack for remembering faces, especially those that mark him deeply

Suddenly he’s frozen on the spot, and he has forgotten why he came to the bar in the first place, what his target looks like - all he knows is you, and how beautiful you look in the dim light of the bar, and the undisclosed and unknown feelings he had for you at the time come flooding back.

Except this time, he understands, and he fears them, because he doesn’t have time for any of this, and it’s way too dangerous for you and him

But he can’t just pass you by and not say a word?

He swallows, hard.

And walks up to you.

“Y/N?”

You open your eyes, and your face flashes with recognition, and a little bit of pain as well. Even if you fled without a word, and left him hanging all these years, he’s incapable of rancor

“Finn... wow, you’ve changed so much.”

“You haven’t.”

He gestures at your face, your clothes, how you savor the music like the finest drink in the world, and you laugh and blush, sending his heart into overdrive

“Where were you all this time?”

“I’m so sorry, Finn... my brother died in the war, and... my mom sent me to live with my grandparents in Scotland. We were all destroyed by grief... I needed to get away.”

“Without explanation? Not even a word?”

“I wanted to write to you, so bad, but... I couldn’t remember your address. I couldn’t remember anything about Birmingham at all...”

He nods, slowly, in understanding.

The war opens wounds that never heal, even after all the most beautiful friendships and love stories in the world.

“But I’m really glad I found you.”

His heart is pounding in his throat. Maybe it’s a sign of destiny that he found you here, tonight, alone, and ready to welcome him back. Maybe it’s a word from fate, that you can never truly be apart.

So he takes the seat in front of you, and you smile, that shy but bright smile of yours, and he forgets all about his mission, his client, and his brothers.

They’ll have to understand.

800 follower sleepover

[kickingitwithkirk]

Greetings From Austin: Part II

Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Alpha!Jared Padalecki x Omega!OFC

Summary: Jensen and Jared are at odds over a monumental decision that changes their lives in a way they couldn’t have envisioned.  

Word Count: 3985

Warnings: a/b/o, bisexuality, angst, cursing, self doubt, depression/anxiety, married life/disagreements, medical stuff, sexual dysfunction, infertility, surrogacy

*Jensen acting out of character

*additional warnings to be added in future parts.

A/N: series Inspired by this art.

A/N II: For this part I did some research & delved into a bit of reproductive/genetic testing-please don’t dink me on details, I altered it a bit to fit A/B/O verse.

A/N III:  There is no intentional hate or malevolence intended towards any of the Ackles or Padalecki families. This is a purely fictional piece containing real and created persons/names/events set in the fictional  A/B/O verse. Some dates/events altered to fit story.

Part I

*no beta-all mistakes are mine

*photos found online

One hour later

Jensen sets two sealed cups in the small niche shutting its door and grabs his jacket sliding it on, his inner Alpha purring with satisfaction watching his husband's fumbling fingers working at a button on his shirt, “Need any help babe?”

Jared’s all dilated pupils and glowing cheeks above his thick beard, “I’m good, I'll be out in a few.” Jensen leans in for one more soft, lingering kiss before leaving. Locking the door behind him Jared leans against it, closing his eyes, savoring the last vestiges of his oxytocin high.

He can’t stop recalling that mischievous glint in those luminous green eyes as Jensen slowly licked his plush lips before diving in to kiss him stupid, his long, sinful tongue doing things that’s probably illegal in twenty states, hands with ooh, so thick, talented fingers capable all sorts of magical things.

Shaking himself out of the memory he crossed over to the sink and caught his debauched reflection in the mirror. Shit, he can’t out looking like this.

Turning on the tap cups his hand to catch some of the running water splashing his face to cool off when his phone starts vibrating in his back pocket. Drying his hands and face he pulls it out checking the text. Glancing up he runs a hand over his thick beard, smoothing it down before leaving the room.

Completely preoccupied typing a reply he rounds the corner heading for the doctor's office slamming into a woman knocking her off her feet, the contents of the bag she’s carrying scatter loudly across the floor.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry!”

From her seated position she looks up...and up, his long, long legs clad in low riding jeans barely held up by a loosely buckled leather belt, his shirts rucked-up, a bit of his treasure trail and toned abs flanked by the sharp V of his hip peeking out.

“FuckI’mfuckingsorryFuckdidn’tfuckingsee....”

Jared, embarrassed, keeps apologizing, laced with fuck every other word, squats down gathering scattered items, dropping them back into the bag continuously babbling until she bursts out laughing. “And here I be thinking I said fuck to much,” a subtle lilt in her voice making it sound like she’s saying fook instead.

They move around each other picking up the last of her stuff. Jared reaches for a scarf when the central air catches a few loose strands of her hair, lightly dancing them across his cheek.

He inhales sharply as her piquant scent travels through his system eliciting a rumbling purr deep in his chest, “Fuck..” She breathes out gazing directly into his kaleidoscope eyes, watching mesmerized as they bleed into red with arousal as her eyes flash gold in response.

“I..I..fuck..I’ve gotta go!” She sputters, scrambling to her feet, grabs the bag hurrying away, leaving him holding the scarf.

Lifting the forgotten fabric to his face Jared deeply inhaled her scent, reaching down presses against his cock chubbing up the second time that day. He morosely stares in the direction she fled in once more, a low whine of loss escapes before he tucks the scarf into his back pocket and resumes heading towards the doctor’s office.

Dr. Rodgers, standing just inside in a doorway observing unnoticed, makes a mental note.

***

Jensen watches amused as Jared sits down with a slight wince, a not unpleasant reminder of their recent interlude, teases, “Did I make that much of a mess out of you Jay?”

Jared shrugs with a nonchalant “eh.” Jensen lowers his chin leaning close growling his displeasure at the flippant response, Jared internally shivers knowing he’s gonna pay for it when they get home, much to his delight.

Jensen abruptly stops growling, “You stink like Omega!”

Dr. Rodgers comes in carrying a binder saving Jared from responding, “We’ll get your test results in about two weeks unless we see something that needs further investigation.” He sets down the binder in front of them, opening it to the first page revealing a dossier and picture.

“Now, the next bit is selecting an egg donor. I’m sure you're wondering how we select the donors. I rely on a protein compatibility test, similar to the markers blood test used when matching Alphas and Omegas, narrowing down prospective candidates.

All of our donors are Betas and Omegas. Several of the Betas are willing to be the surrogate too. If you choose to go with an Omega donor we will have the extra step of selecting a Beta surrogate but that’s something to discuss later if needed.

We also take into account your personal preferences when it comes to physical traits, personality, etc. I’ll introduce you to the top three that are the best matches. If for some reason none of them work out, we’ll try the next most compatible candidates.”

Dr. Rodgers clicks his pen, “Let’s get started shall we.”

***

Flipping off the light switch Jensen walks out of the bath to find Jared already asleep. Crossing over to their bed he stopped at his side admiring him.

How had he gotten so lucky to have Jared as his? Over fifteen years since that life changing meeting he was more in love with his mate than ever, the ups and downs in their relationship that could have torn them apart made their marriage stronger.

Jensen took hold of the book Jared had been reading, gently pulling it out of his hand, slid in a bookmark and placed it on the nightstand turning off the lamp.

Easing into his side of the bed he leaned over pressing a soft kiss to Jared’s bare shoulder, who only wore bottoms since he always ran warm. Shifting, Jared buries his face into Jensen's neck, draping a long arm across his chest snuggling close, “Thank you.”

“For what babe?”

“Helping me today,” he could feel Jared’s breath warm against his skin, “I know you're against having more but please don’t decide not to, I want to have pups with you.”

Jensen mentality sighed, he’d be forty-three before they were born and didn’t want to be the old dad. Jared had argued that he'd never be, they knew lots of people were having their families later, look at Reedus, fifty when his daughter came and JDM, he was almost fifty-two when George was born.

“I’ll make you a deal, I’ll say yes if we find one donor we both agree on,” he felt Jared’s emotions shifting more positive, “but if you like one and me another, I’m not doing it.”

Jared pressed several soft kisses to the side of his neck, “Okay Jen,” he agrees, shifting to lay his head on his shoulder, “we’ll find the one, I can feel it.” he sleepily finishes.

Jensen rests his cheek against the top of Jared's head, not fallen asleep for ages. How was he going to handle Jared’s inevitable disappointment, knowing it will happen since they have always had vastly different tastes in females.

***

Five days later

7:00 A.M.

Jared was up to mile three of his daily workout on the treadmill in his office. He usually ran outside this early in the morning but a surprise thunderstorm altered his plans for the day when his phone rang. He dialed the machine down to walking speed to answer.

“Hello, Mr. Page, this is Sissy from Dr. Rodgers office, I’m sorry to be calling so early. He would like for you to come back in for a follow up about your semen testing.” Jared’s throat tightened, closing off his ability to respond.

He stepped off the machine and sat down on the large leather couch, “Sorry I..what time can I come in?”

“We have an opening at 8:45, will that work?”

“Yes ma’am, I can be there then.”

“Great, we’ll see you in a bit Mr. Page.”

Jared sat back not caring he was getting sweat all over the leather and started his breathing exercise to calm himself, telling his brain to knock it off, surely it wasn’t anything major with how calm Sissy was on the phone.

Ten minutes later he was still anxious but able to handle it. He glanced at his watch and knew he had to get his butt in gear to make the appointment.

Walking into the bedroom he found Jensen softly snoring so he moved as quietly as he could grabbing some clean clothes and headed for the shower. He left a note by the coffee pot saying he had an errand and be back ASAP.

He pulled into the clinics parking lot with five minutes to spare. Tucking his hair into his ever present beanie, Jared slipped on his mask and dashed through the downpour into the clinic.

After being temperature checked, Sissy walked him to the doctor's office. Knocking on the door she opened it and Jared saw the doctor on the phone gesturing for him to come in as he finished his call.

“Hello Mr. Page, thank you for coming in. I wanted to go over a discrepancy the lab found with your test, I'll try not to use too much doctor jargon.” He layed three pages on the table in front of him, a color printout of a sperm DNA strand broke down into segments and the others Jared recognized as chromosome mapping. “These are part of the Alphas sperm DNA sequencing. Normally, this one has a wide band in this segment,” he pointed to a circled area on the right page demonstrating a normal sequence. “This is your sperm's DNA. What I wanted to show you is a variant in the same section,” he circled a column on the left page, “which contains a narrow band instead,” he highlighted one piece of the chain.

“What does it mean?” Jared asked nervously.

“I’m going to be honest with you, I don’t know, I’ve never encountered this variant before. I looked at your previous testing from 2016 and it was also present on that test, not sure why it was overlooked. I’ve consulted with a few colleagues of mine to get their take,” he paused resting his arms on the desk watching Jared’s expression, “Mr. Page, I didn’t ask you to come in to upset you, I prefer to keep my clients in the loop if anything unusual does present with their testing. It’s possibly something that's genetically unique to you and affects nothing. I’d like to run a Tunel test, it’s a sperm chromatin structure analysis, it’ll give us more information to work with.”

Jared fidgeted, desperately wanting to chew on his fingers, “Umm…okay.”

“Good, it's not invasive at all, we just need some more sperm.” Dr. Rodgers says.

~~~

Jensen was stumbling around the kitchen working on his first cup of coffee when Jared walked in carrying a box from his favorite bakery.

“Those aren’t what I think they are?” Jensen asks as Jared sits the box down on the counter. He opens the lid inhaling the scent of decadent cinnamon roll goodness before pulling out one and taking a huge bite moaning pornographically, “Babe, whatever I did to warrant these remind me to do it again,” he says with his mouthful.

Jared chuckles as his mate continues making obscene noises before bending down taken a bit from the other side earning warning snarl.

“You are so not a morning person.” Jared chided sliding the box over to retrieve his own taking it setting down at the island bar pulling a chunk off.

“You wanna share what’s rattling around in that big head of yours?” Jensen inquires. Jared chews slowly before answering. “I got a call from the clinic, something showed up in my test.”

Jensen snapped fully alert, his roll forgotten, and sat down next to him, “Jared, what’s wrong? Are you sick?”

Jared fiddled with his roll, pulling it apart, “No, not that I’m aware of but they found something off and don’t know what it is. Dr. Rodgers said it’s probably nothing but wanted to run another test to see if he can figure out what it is what if something is wrong and turns out I was the reason Genevieve couldn’t get pregnant I don’t know if I can handle it the possibility of not being able to have pups I’ve wanted them for so long I can’t imagine our lives...”

“Jared,” Jensen sharpness interrupts Jared’s incessant rambling, making him go quiet, “I know you want to go to the worst possible outcome but let’s wait till all the tests are back. If it’s something, we’ll deal, we always do.”

***

August 3rd

“Jen, move your ass, were gonna be late!” Jared bellows from downstairs.

“I’m coming...dammit!” Jensen cursed as he tripped over the boxes left sitting by the bottom step. “You need to get the rest of this shit out of the way, about killed myself again!”

“I’ll stay up tonight moving the rest of this fucking shit if you’ll get a fucking move on!”

The sniping at each other had gotten worse since the house renovations were barely completed before heading back to Vancouver.

Jensen moved his music studio into the newly created space in the basement from the former guest quarters, now relocated to the spacious pool house. The empty upstairs rooms were converted into the eventual nursery/kids rooms with a Jack and Jill bathroom between them.

“You better start watching your goddamn language cause the last thing we need is for our kids to have a trash mouth like…don’t roll your eyes at me!” Jared threw his arms up in disgust before storming out to the garage getting in Jensen’s truck. They drove to the clinic in silence.

They were flying out tomorrow to quarantine for two weeks before resuming shooting on the eighteenth. Then the clinic called their tests were back and Jared didn’t want to wait till they got back for the results.

After their temperature check they were immediately escorted to the doctor’s office finding him already there. “Mr. Bonham, Mr. Page, pleasure to see you, please have a seat.” They sit next to each other not touching. “Is there something wrong gentleman?”

“Why do you ask?” Jensen barks, “Fuck man, don’t be rude!” Jared bit back earning a glare that makes most sane people back away from Jensen.

“Gentleman, no need to fight. It may surprise you but I actually see a lot of hostility between my clients. I’m sure the added stress of the quarantine while trying to start a family is putting your Alpha instincts more on edge, is it not?”

Jensen sighed, “I’m sorry sir, I was raised better.”

Jared gave an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry too sir, and you're right.”

“I’ve been doing this for a long time and understand the situation from your side, my wife and I had trouble conceiving. We ended up having two sets of twins within three years, now that’s stress.”

Jensen blinked, “And I thought mine were a handful.”

Dr. Rodgers laughed, “They are a blessing but honestly, it’s an absolute madhouse at times. So, let’s get back to you two. Mr. Bonham, everything looks good, you are in the top percentile when it comes to mobility and live sperm count for your age group. One of the advantages of being an Alpha, unlike us poor Betas who’s diminish with age.”

“Mr. Page, I also have your results and the Tunel tests which turned out to be something.. unique.”

Jared eyes widened as he paled, his breath hitching, feeling his stomachs spastic tightening making him about vomit. He knew it, he knew something was going to go wrong, his brain didn’t lie to him this time.

Jensen was out of his chair and utilizing his Alpha strength turned Jared’s towards him before kneeling between his legs reaching up to firmly grip the sides of his head forcing him to focus on him opens up his side of their bond he’d shut the other day when they were arguing to gauge how bad this one was.

“Hey Hey, concentrate on me, I need you to breathe with me,” he held Jared’s gaze for several minutes as their breathing cinqued up, feeling him relaxing.

“There you go big guy. It wasn’t that bad, focus on your breathing okay.” Jared nodded embarrassed as Dr. Rodgers sat a bottle of water in front of him, “Do you need me to get you anything else?”

“No, he’s fine, thank you,” Jensen answers, getting up retaking his chair as Jared took a long drink from the bottle, “he’s usually more aware of these attacks but since the damn lock-downs.” Jensen shook his head in disgust, “We're heading back to Vancouver tomorrow to finish our sh..job before his new one starts late October. I guess it’s really hitting us both that it's finally ending.”

“Mr. Ackles, you can say show,” Jared and Jensen stare at him in surprise, “my daughters are fans, I know more about the Winchester brothers than a man my age should.” Dr. Rodgers ruminates, “Mr. Page, are you ready for me to continue?” Jared nodded as Jensen wrapped both of his hands around his free one.

“After I received the results I spoke with a specialist in Alpha genetics. They looked at all your tests and came back with a conclusion I’ve never heard of before.” The doctor laid a printout on the desk, “This is a visual aid to help me in explaining.”

“Chemoattactants are what a female's egg releases to attract the sperm to it. You know how it works from there; sperm meets egg, sperm penetrates egg and viola, fertilization. Alphas sperm has evolved allowing them to inseminate all three sub-genders, whereas male Omegas sperm is sterile since they possess both sets of reproductive organs but only need to utilize one.”

The doctor sets all three of Jared’s tests and the normal example on his desk for them to see, “This chromatin structure you carry Mr. Page,” he points to the highlighted section, “has altered so that the eggs of Alphas and Betas are chemorepellent to your sperm, rejecting fertilization.”

Jared sat still-shocked, blankly staring at the results lying before him, vaguely feeling Jensen reaching across their bond again. “Does this mean he’s...infertile?” He can hear Jensen hesitant inquiry, like he's standing across a vast chasm.

“In conventional terms, yes. This is the reason you were unable to conceive with your previous spouse, being a Beta, and there is still no medical intervention available that would have helped. What’s unique is his sp...”

Jared was numb. His dreams of a little Padackles tearing around their home had literally been salt and burned before his eyes with those test results.

In the recesses of his attention he’s aware of the continuing conversation around him, the longer it goes on, the more his brain is tuning out.

~~~

The first thing he becomes aware of are fingertips caressing his face, softly wiping away wetness damping his cheeks. Slowly blinking the blurry shape in front of him comes into focus.

Jensen is sitting in front of him. More accurately, he’s sitting cross legged in between his own splayed legs on the floor. Jared frowns as his senses are coming back online.

He was sitting on the chair that’s now off to his right so how did he end up with his back against the desk?

“You passed out,” Jensen answers his unspoken question, “and scared the ever-living shit out of me! I thought you were having an aneurysm the way your eyes rolled back into your big head!”

“I..I..don’t know what happened, I was looking at the results, you were asking questions..then nothing.”

“Stress Jared, you are completely stressed out and it's fucking with your illness!” He opens his mouth, “No, I’m not done so be quiet.” Jensen’s voice dropped with his Alpha tone overlaying it,

“Between that final script having you nuts all year, this quarantine fucking up your meds, dealing with your businesses shutdowns, getting Walker started, you had to add pushing for pups, it’s no wonder you couldn’t handle the doctor explanation of...”

“Explanation of what?” Jared lashes back in own Alpha voice, leaning forward into Jensen’s space, his eyes flashing red, “That I’m infertile, sterile, shooting blanks..”

“Shut that fucking mouth for two minutes or I swear I’ll deck you.” Jensen’s normally warm green eyes bleed into a fierce red, becoming hard.

Jared’s mouth snapped shut in surprise. They had gotten into plenty of arguments over the years, gotten in each other’s faces a few times but this was a first. Jensen had never, ever threatened physical harm.

Well, somewhat that time Misha set him off during a panel and he went for him afterwards. Misha stupidly goaded him again before Jensen gave him a shove, ordering him to cool off before he had to do something.

Jensen’s jaw ticked as he mentally counted to ten, “Dr. Rodgers said that you couldn’t impregnate another Alpha or Beta right?”

“Right.”

“The part you zoned out is that your sperm wants to only fertilize an Omega’s eggs.”

Sighing heavily, Jensen crawls over a leg to sit against the desk next to him. Jared pulls his legs up and wraps his arms around them, resting his chin on his knees processing this information as Jensen reaches over and gently rubs his hand in random patterns over his back.

They had mutually agreed on a Beta donor. Now this threw a wrench in the plans.

“Maybe this is a sign we’re rushing into this again. Let’s take a step back and consider all our options.” Jared’s muscles stiffened under his hand.

“I’m not considering anything else and I’m not stopping.”

“Wait...what?”

Jared lifted his head, “I’m not considering anything else and I’m not stopping. I realize this isn’t what you want so don’t worry, I’m not gonna hold you to our agreement.”

Jensen exhaled sharply knowing when Jared spoke in that tone, that was it, end of discussion, mind made up.

Jared gets up, “I’m going to find Dr. Rodgers and see if he's still willing to help me. If you want to leave, go. I’ll get an Uber when I’m done.” He walks out quietly shutting the door behind him.

“Fuck!” Jensen closed his eyes thumping his head back against the desk. He knew he had screwed up and there was only one way to make it right.

***

Jensen asked Jared to let him stay, he was wrong for saying that and he'd be open to one of the Omegas as a possible donor too. Jared wasn’t completely appeased but he was happy Jensen didn’t take the out given him.

The three candidates were smart, attractive, lovely scented Omegas in their twenties that any Alpha looking for a prospective mate would seriously consider, leaving Jensen wanting something else.

“I like aspects of all three Jay, but honestly, I'm not feeling it with any of them.”

“Maybe you’ve reached the stage you’re looking for more substance, less aesthetic.”

“Did you just call me old?” Jensen gaped at his husband.

Before Jared responds, Dr. Rodgers enters, “I see from your expression Mr. Bonham that you haven’t decided on a candidate.”

“It’s not that I didn’t like any of them, there isn’t a..”

“Connection. It’s normal, just because your Alpha doesn’t mean you..desire every Omega you cross paths with. With some it takes time to find the right one.” He looks at his watch.

“We’re at the end of our appointment but I have one more donor I’d like you to meet today. She’s doesn’t exactly fit your personal physical preferences but this omega is...special..and she’s willing to be the surrogate too.”

The doctor opens the door gestures to someone. They stand up to greet her and as she enters they are enveloped by her piquant scent.

“Mr. Page and Mr. Bonham, this is Quinn.”

***

tbc

Part III

GFA: @babypink224221 @waywardjoy @let-me-luve-you @all-4-wincest

SPN: @donnatix @lyarr24

Sam/Jared @idreamofplaid

Dean/Jensen: @flamencodiva

[the-enamorando-deity]

Okie dokie so for my first request, can I ask for a Yelena one with Pillow + tent + star gazing+ "Hey, if you were an animal, would you want to be one that walks or flies?" + "what are you waiting for?" Please and thank you, oh also *** ;) with Yelena being the top you're the best and congrats!!!!

i am......... SO FUCKING SORRY. the last few months i lost all inspiration but today i found it, and i’m gonna get right back to working on your requests. again i’m so sorry, i hope the word count and content shows a little much of how sorry i am, but you absolutely do not have to forgive me because i am a garbage person

but they WILL get done.

yelena belova x fem!reader, hello this is my first time writing in a while so bear with the shitty smut (18+ of course)

prompts: Yelena Pillow Tent Stargazing, “hey if you were an animal would you want to be one that walks or one that flies?” and “what are you waiting for”

Gazing at Stars

Your eyes rolled so far back into your head when you realised what month it was. Every year, Steve insisted on the team taking a trip together to some random place he would pull from a hat, and every year, it was camping in some dumpy forest. It was rather obvious that those were the only options, and it was compulsory.

Steve insisted it was team-building, and you knew that was bullshit. The only way he could get some peace was by dropping you all somewhere in pairs with a map, those few priceless hours all to himself as he set up the camp ground, and you all wandered aimlessly hoping to find a hotel rather than the same pile of tents.

Every year, you were all disappointed. You felt Yelena fidget next to you, her brow knitted together in concern and confusion. Nudging her softly, she flashed a meek smile to try and hide whatever was going on in her mind. You let it go for now, but as soon as the meeting was over, you stopped her in the hall.

‘Hey, Belova, what’s with your face in there?’ you queried, making sure no one else was around so she’d actually answer truthfully. ‘Almost looks like you hate camping as much as I do, which I thought was impossible.’

She also glanced around, but seemed hesitant to answer at all. ‘What is camping?’

Realisation struck, and you quickly scrambled to try and find the right way to describe it, without turning her against it too early. ‘Well, you can do it alone or with a group, and pretty much you all go into a forest and sleep there.’

‘For what purpose?’

You managed a smile, the now scared look in her eyes making you uneasy. ‘Uh, Steve likes to say for fun, Nat and I always say it’s more of a torture tactic, but it isn’t always so bad.’

‘It is, I think,’ she replied quietly. Seeing the confusion that spread from herself to you, Yelena forced a smile. ‘The Red Room did this too. They drive you to nowhere, and leave you, using only what you know from their teaching on how to get back. You don’t, you die.’

After trying to explain the difference between abandoning nine year olds in the frozen Russian tundra and sleeping in a tent around a bonfire for a few days, you knew Yelena was still concerned.

‘I’ll talk to Steve, I have an idea.’

‘Don’t do anything stupid,’ she remarked, quickly stretching herself out to her full height, which did nothing but make you laugh.

You winked and turned to find him, missing the rush of warmth that ran up Yelena’s body to her cheeks, holding there until you disappeared around the corner.

‘STEVEN!’ you shouted, delighted by the weary face that peered around the corner before you. ‘Good, you heard me.’

‘Hard not to, Y/N,’ he teased, ‘what do you need?’

Two weeks later, Steve stood in his usual place before the team. He gave you a quick nod, before announcing that this year’s camping trip would be set on the grounds of the Avengers Compound, due to certain restrictions and new recruits being unfamiliar with the whole process.

No one even glanced at Yelena, some others on the team just as fresh as herself. She squeezed your hand under the table as a thank you, but didn’t so much as spare a glance your way.

‘No technology is to be used, except in the usual 7pm to 9pm rule, unless with exceptional reason,’ he explained, ignoring the grumbles and groans. ‘Now, I have enlisted Friday’s help in coming up with a system for pairs.’

He droned on with each pair, no one really paying attention, knowing Steve would post it in the hall later.

'Yelena-’

Yelena froze at the mention of her name, unsure whether to stand or move or just continue breathing, all in the split second it took Steve to say your name right after. The sigh of relief was noticeable only to those on either side of her, you and Natasha exchanging a look behind her back.

When the day finally came, you and Natasha cornered the reformed assassin and took either of her arms.

‘What is this? Are you hazing me?’ 

‘What?’ you both laughed, shaking your heads. 

Natasha rolled her eyes and pulled her in tighter. ‘No, dumbass, we’re taking you down to the campground. Y/N and I are going to show you how to set up a tent.’

‘Don’t you have your own partner?’ Yelena grumbled, her relationship with Natasha just as sisterly as ever.

You and Natasha turned Yelena around to see Clint following behind, holding several large bags which Yelena could only assume were these “tents” you kept trying to explain. He ran to catch up, joining in on the current gossip session Nat was catching you all up on.

It’s not so bad, Yelena thought to herself, hiding a smile in her puffy jacket as you tightened your grip on her arm, pulling her a little closer. 

I don’t entirely hate this, she thought, unable to stop herself from laughing as you shoved popcorn up Bruce’s nose and the Hulk spit it out, or as you dared Thor to an eating challenge, only for him to balk and refuse after last time. Her favourite thing was the race between you and Steve, everyone refusing to let him know you cheated every time.

Hoping to distract everyone from the current story time in the circle, knowing your ass was about to be handed to you if Natasha or Steve knew how your last mission went, you turned to Yelena and posed a question. It was loud enough to intrigue the others, and your dumbassery was forgotten.

‘Hey, if you were an animal, would you want to be one that walks, or one that flies?’

Yelena seemed confused, but knew why you were trying to silence the story. ‘One that flies. They see more than the one who walks even knows exists.’

Tony jumped in next, his answer not very surprising. ‘I’m already both, why choose?’

The night progressed, and you started to think. You all knew camping really wasn’t so bad, it was only the concept of it, that or the fact that Steve enjoyed it a little too much.

Amidst the Asgardian Tales of Horror that Thor began to spin, you snuck Yelena away to show her your favourite part of camping, the only reason you didn’t vanish from the trip every year. Pillow tucked under your arm, you sighed a breath of relief and dropped it to the ground.

‘Y/N, I don’t think-’

‘I’m not saying trust me here, but I think you’ll like this.’

Yelena seemed concerned as you dropped to your knees and dragged her down beside you, looking into her eyes as your fingers lightly grabbed her chin, tilting her head skyward. Above you, the stars stretched out in an endless expanse, her chin dropping as she studied each one.

You had seen the stars plenty of times, but they were nothing like the ones you saw when she kissed you. She grabbed your hips and pulled your body close, turning you on your back, mumbling into your lips. Pulling away from you for only a moment, she moved to kneel over you, lowering herself so she could straddle you.

Her hands ran softly up the material of your shirt as she leaned down to kiss your neck, sucking a trail across your collarbone.

‘Are you okay with this?’ she whispered into your ear, the shivers running down your spine turning you into a malleable mess.

‘Extremely,’ you huffed, your hands on her toned back, pulling her down, closer.

You could feel the smirk cross her face as her hand drifted along your ribcage, tugging at the bottom of your shirt. Your jaw clenched at the soft touch, looking down just in time to see her lift your shirt up, kissing across your stomach. 

Biting your lip, you felt your legs clench together, but something was pressed between your thighs. Yelena used her knee to push yours apart, the pure rush you got from that movement only increasing your need for her to touch you.

‘Yelena-’

‘Beg me,’ she remarked, sucking at your skin softly, drifting lower as her fingers danced at the button on your jeans.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you felt yourself inching down towards her thigh, clenching your legs around hers. ‘Please,’ you started, looking directly into her eyes as she traced your stomach muscles with her tongue, ‘fuck me.’

‘Good girl.’

‘Christ,’ you moaned, the slow movement of your zipper sending interesting vibrations down your body. 

She seemed to enjoy riling you up, the slow movement of your jeans sliding down your legs torturous, her fingernails touching so lightly along your thighs it tickled, making you want her all over you at once. No matter how much you kicked your legs and squirmed to get her to touch you any faster, her pace didn’t differ.

You didn’t notice until the air hit you, but it wasn’t only your jeans she’d dragged painfully slowly down your legs. Her lips were softer than you expected, but her tongue was as sharp as her quick wit. A dangerous combination in most situations, yours included.

The moment you realised you were entirely exposed to the cool night air, Yelena had graciously moved her talents south. She traced an agonisingly slow trail up your folds, her touch registering on more than one level. You choked down a moan, grabbing your own hair with one hand, and Yelena’s with the other. 

She busied her self with tantalisingly slow tongue movements and soft kisses all over, fingers drifting up your skin and beneath your shirt. They squeezed at your breast over your bra, the clenching of her fingers in time with the flicks of her tongue over your clit.

If this was how you were going to die, you would already be in heaven. Positive your teeth were going to shatter from how hard you were clenching them, you tried to push yourself closer to her, wanting more and more.

She gladly obliged, taking your dripping clit into her mouth and sucking at it. Slowly at first, gentle and soft, your body tingling as you realised her other hand was holding your thigh, and her fingers were inching closer to you. Yelena knew exactly what she was doing, each movement like the most blissful torture one could imagine.

The release of your jaw came with a loud moan, Yelena’s fingers soaked with your slick, sliding easily inside you. You sank down against her hand, moving your hips and twisting yourself until she was right where you wanted her. Grinding hard against her hand and face, Yelena’s enhanced strength came in hand.

She moved faster and harder, fingers curling in all the right ways and tongue expertly teasing the most sensitive part of you. Your head fell back against the pillow, the stars in your eyes matching those above, sweet release coming only once Yelena had drawn you out to your maximum. 

You don’t know how long you lay there, trying to catch your breath, knowing the assassin still had every move, and the word “reformed” wasn’t in her vocabulary. She would had positively killed you with her talents, if she hadn’t already done so with her smile.

The pair of you exchanged tired glances for a moment, Yelena propped up on her elbow studying you.

‘I want to kiss you,’ she said softly.

‘Well, what are you waiting for?’ you smiled.

taglist: @marvelfansince08love @mymarvelwomen @imnotasuperhero @natasha-danvers @veteranwerewolf95 @monihaswritersblock @natasharomanoffswife @xxxtwilightaxelxxx