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karasuno-volley · 4 years

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HAIKYUU THIRD YEARS + SAYING I LOVE YOU FOR THE FIRST TIME

( ft. aoba johsai + karasuno )

plot: how the third years say i love you for the first time.

pairing: seijoh / karasuno third years + gn!reader (slight fem!reader implied for asahi + oikawa)

a/n: fair warning, i did google personalities for makki/mattsun so i can get a sense of how they act. :) shoutout to haikyuu wiki. liking/reblogging welcome, no reposting though! also, hmu if you want to be put on a taglist !! love, volley.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE ?

Oikawa Tooru would never admit it, but he is helplessly in love with you. He isn’t sure why, but this feeling comes in waves. One day it is subtle and stirring in the back of his mind, the others, when your lips collide and your breath is hot on his neck, it’s a tsunami. Now, with your head in his lap, the movie you had chosen plays idly in the background. Neither of you are paying attention-- you’re distracted by his long fingers from one of his hands in both of your own, and Oikawa’s distracted as his free hand runs through your hair. It is a soft moment; Oikawa feels like he’s drowning, but in a way that resembles falling asleep. He knows he has to say it now, to say it first. If he has to find similarities here, perhaps it’s breaking the surface to see the sun above. Perhaps it’s the first breath he’s ever taken, and exhaled with a soft-- “I love you.” You hear him, of course. It’s quiet and lovely and wraps your heart in velvet. You find his eyes, kiss the pads of his fingers to your lips. What is there to say? “I love you, too.” Just like that, Oikawa is drowning in you.

He does not mince words, you know this. Iwaizumi was calm and supportive, even when you decide to get ice cream in the dead of winter. He doesn’t order anything with you, but insists on paying for you. As the pair of you walk idly through a nearby park, he can feel his senses adjusting to you, for the first time in forever. It’s not like he’s never focused on you-- it’s quite the opposite. However, now, with you taking small bites of your mochi and the snow falling into your hair from the looming trees, it’s all he can do to not look at you. He’s distracted by your lips as you speak, your eyes as they convey all sorts of emotions. Iwaizumi can always read you, that’s his strength. But now, at least to you, he doesn’t seem to even be listening to your story.

You stop suddenly on the walking path, and he does, too, though obviously startled. “Are you okay?” You ask. His eyes don’t leave you. “I love you.” He says it like he’s dumbfounded, as if stumbling across an answer he’s been looking for for far too long. You only smile, picking up one of your mochi from its container and putting it between his lips. When he bites down, it’s strawberry. He can’t stop himself from thinking that it matches the taste of your lips perfectly.

It wasn’t like the pair of you were doing anything special. In fact, it was the opposite. The rain had ruined any plan you had of taking your boyfriend out for a picnic, so you were a bit down on the idea of doing nothing. However, when you walk into his house a bit later after Takahiro had offered the idea of just hanging out, you see it. A checkered blanket, a basket. A few bentos and drinks laid out. “Makki? What is this?” You ask, and you can’t stop a smile. “Uh, a picnic?” He says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Smartass.” You say, but join him anyways, happy to be doing anything other than the ordinary.

You two talk for a few hours, much longer than you had actually planned. You knew you had homework to do, but it really only felt like minutes. “Hey, I have to tell you something.” Makki doesn’t even look at you when he makes his confession, really. Only a few quick glances your way. “I love you.” You sit there for a moment, face blank. He panics, thinking he’s made a mistake. Maybe you don’t feel the same way? He’s about to backtrack horribly, but then you kiss his cheek. When he finally gets a new view of you, you’re blushing, taking another sip of water. “I love you, too.” He’s never seen anything so lovely.

You never knew how funny Mattsun could be until you started dating. Constant cut-and-dry jokes lead to light-hearted dates. It could be a walk in the park, bike rides, a trip to a convenience store: whatever the situation was, it usually led to more laughs than anything else. His teammates didn’t usually get this side of him, and you know this. It’s a savory feeling that you couldn’t get enough of. He never smiled enough, but now that you two are dating, even Oikawa admitted on more than one occasion that something had changed in him for the better.

Now, as he guides you down a cherry-blossom filled path, he’s oddly silent. “Mattsun?” You say, trying to catch up with the boy’s long strides to get a look at his face. You worry something might be wrong, until he says: “You know I love you, right?” You laugh, and then he stops, turns to you. Mattsun’s eyes are lively, bright. A new emotion. “I tell you I love you, and you laugh?” He’s incredulous, but not angry. You pause, your smile slowly morphing into something slightly more like shock. “You… You’re serious?” “Yes!” He says, throwing his hands into the air as he continues walking. You’re a half step behind him as he laughs. “God, I’ve been working up the nerve all week to tell you that!” You step in front of him, hand on his chest to force him to stop moving. You kiss his lips, smiling. “Mattsun, I love you.” You turn, high-tailing it down the sidewalk. He chases you, arms waving in the air like a madman. “Hey! That’s my line!”

“Koushi, please.” You beg, both his hands in your own. “Please? It’s been forever.” Your boyfriend only laughs. “What? We went out three days ago! Besides, we both know we have stuff to do.” “Do we?” You give him the best puppy eyes you can manage. Something in Suga’s expression alters, his eyes turning soft and melted. He sighs, a small smile appearing on his lips. “I…. uh, fine. But we’ll just get ramen or something, okay?” This changes your frown into a fast and easy smile. You kiss his cheek quickly before continuing on past your house and towards the small ramen shop on the corner before you realize Suga isn’t actually following.

His hands in his pockets, he watches you with a dumb smile on his face that hasn’t gone away quite yet. “Hello?” You say after him, turning on your heels before he finally comes back to his senses to catch up to you. “What was that? Lost in thought?” You ask, laughing. “What? No, it’s nothing. I just love you.” Before you could reply, Suga runs past you to beat you to the front doors of the small cafe. “You what?” You call after him, disbelief all over your features. “Come on! You don’t want your ramen to get cold, do you?” “Suga, it’s a restaurant! It’s not going to get cold!” You chase after him, your heart lighter than it’s ever been.

Perhaps he should have known this already, that you’d be upset. He looks at you stupidly, and you have half a mind to hit his shoulder. You don’t, but God, are you close. “Sawamura!” You whine, and Daichi seems to snap out of it. He isn’t used to you calling him anything but Daichi or any number of pet names. “C’mon, darling. Don’t be so upset. It’s just one grade.” He gently takes the exam from your hands, looking it over. In fact, he isn’t. His eyes glance towards you the whole time, watching as you pull your hair up, run your hands down your face. “What am I supposed to tell my mom? If I don’t pass this class, I…”

“Your mom will understand.” Daichi says, slowly handing the paper back to you. You take it, adding a few creases to its smooth surface. “If it makes you feel any better, I still love you.” He isn’t sure why he chooses then to say it. Maybe he wants to see the frown on your face dissipate. Maybe he just wants to hear you say it back. You look around the empty hallway, and find the pair of you alone, before you turn back to your boyfriend. “How’s that supposed to make me feel?” “Hopefully better?” Daichi asks hopefully, a dumb grin on his face.

You did not want to be sick today. That was easier said than done, however, especially with allergy season on the rise. You hadn’t told Asahi you weren’t going to school that day. In fact, the medicine you had taken early in the morning caused you to sleep through most of the day. You only wake from your sleep when there’s a knock at the door, and you rise groggily to answer. When you do, you see Asahi there, sheepishly holding a bag from Shimada Mart. “Hey, I, uh… brought you some stuff?” It wasn’t a question, but it was sure phrased like one. “Asahi, what are you doing here? How did you know?” He smiles, almost a little embarrassed. Normally he wouldn’t show without at least texting to let you know he was coming over. He’d never actually seen you in anything but casual clothes or your school uniform. Your pajama pants were covered in different dogs, a loose white t-shirt a horrible substitute to your favorite blouse.

“You didn’t answer my texts. Can I come in?” “If you want to get sick, sure.” You open the door for him, and Asahi enters, taking his shoes off at the door. He surveys the couch where you had obviously just been resting. “Go lay down.” He nods towards the living room. “I’ll go make you some tea.” You don’t have the strength to argue. When Asahi returns, two cups of tea in hand, you’re already asleep. He sets the cups down as quietly as he can manage, settling himself in by you. His hand takes your own, and you adjust for it easily, even in your sleep, the back of his hand pressed against your lips. He says it, but there’s no way you hear. Asahi doesn’t mind, though. He can always tell you again when you wake up. For now, he leans back, covers you in a blanket, and settles in for a long evening.

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miracu-ace · 4 years

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Feel you here beside me

Happy holidays @chloe-bourgeois-is-big-gay! As your secret santa, I’ve written you a Lukanette story featuring the soulmate AU, where soulmates can feel any intense emotions that their soulmate’s feel. This went through several re-writes so I apologize for cutting it so close to the deadline, but here it is!

@mlsecretsanta

For Marinette, there were many times growing up that she doubted whether or not she had a soulmate. She couldn’t recall ever being overcome by a strong emotion that wasn’t directly linked back to how she herself was feeling. But according to her parents, everyone had one some were just more obvious than others.

The first time she actually noticed a difference, Marinette was working late on a school project. She had been spending hours staring at a blank screen in the hopes that inspiration would strike and she could complete her written report before it was due the next day. But nothing would come to her. All she could think about was the overwhelming stress of turning in another assignment late and disappointing both her teacher and her parents. The stress alone had her spinning in her computer chair.

On the verge of giving up, Marinette covered her face in her hands. She could attempt to go to sleep now and maybe get up early enough to actually be able to focus in the morning or she could push through in the hopes something would come to her. Granted she had a bad habit of sleeping in and at this rate, it seemed like she would even if she completed the assignment.

Gradually she felt a soothing wave wash over her. And her shoulders relaxed. And her thoughts were no longer racing. And she didn’t feel so hopeless. And then just calm.

It was as if someone were draping a warm, soothing blanket over her shoulders. As if she was feeling someone else’s emotions, someone like her soulmate!

A gentle sigh escaped her lips and Marinette sent a silent thank you to her soulmate. Whatever they were doing they were managing to overcome her emotions with their own. The thought alone helped Marinette relax, finally knowing that she wasn’t so alone like she had feared. There was someone out there that could match her stress and overpower it with a sense of calmness.

For a moment Marinette lost herself in thought again. Guilt. Her soulmate would be around her age of course, but would they already have grey hair? Aside from Marinette, who else could handle her daily stressors? Between running late to school, staying up late working on homework assignments, and everything else, how could someone else handle all this random stress?

Her dad had even mentioned how before meeting her mother, he would stress bake whenever he felt any intense emotion from her.

Marinette almost laughed when the wave of calmness came back. Subtle at first, but still effective. As if her soulmate were trying to soothe her fears once more.

“Ok, I’ll take the hint,” Marinette whispered to herself. “Thank you.”

A small smile formed on her lips as she began typing out her report.

“Someday you will have to tell me your secret to staying so calm.”

~~-~~

The day that Marinette became Ladybug, she started to worry in the back of her mind about her soulmate. It was one thing to have the weight of Paris on her shoulders, but now she was giving that stress to someone else without any of the necessary context.

Through all of her interaction with Stoneheart as Ladybug, Marinette couldn’t feel her soulmate’s soothing calm over her own feelings. Which in turn only enhanced her fear and self-doubt. Even with Tikki and Chat Noir, she felt alone again.

All until Alya was trapped by cars as Stoneheart went on another rampage. The desire to help Alya overcame her worries and she accepted the ladybug miraculous. Just as the magic of the suit was washing over her, she could feel the wave of calm again. Mixed in there was a hint of relief that Marinette was overcoming her own doubts and a sense of pride for her.

~~-~~

So much worry. Luka wasn’t sure why, but his soulmate was stressed beyond belief at the sudden introduction of akumas. Her emotions before now were nothing in comparison. More than anything, he hoped she was safe.

Normally in times like these, Luka would strum his guitar and play a soothing melody. One that would break through his soulmate’s stress and help her calm down, but now he couldn’t seem to break through to her.

Not until Ladybug seemed to show up again. As soon as he had seen her on TV zipping into action, Luka imagined his soulmate found some relief in the superhero. She was still doubtful, but Luka took it as an opportunity to play his guitar and focus on sending soothing thoughts to her.

Confidence answered him back and Luka smiled to himself. Whatever had happened to his soulmate during Stoneheart, they were safe now and seemed to be more confident in themselves now.

“I’ll have to thank Ladybug for this someday.” Luka thought to himself as the ladybugs washed over Paris.

~~-~~

The day Luka became Viperion, he began to understand what made a person lose themselves in self-doubt. The weight of a miraculous was a heavy burden, but Luka also found it to be a source of power. While his soulmate handled her emotions better after Stoneheart, there were still times when he could feel her concern grow during a particularly powerful akuma. As Viperion, he could take a more active role to help his soulmate.

Every time Ladybug came to his requesting assistance in her and Chat Noir’s battle with the akumas, Luka was quick to accept her offer.

~~-~~

“Ladybug!” Viperion called, his freehand laying over his Miraculous. “Are you alright?”

Winded, Ladybug took a deep breath and gave herself a moment to collect her thoughts.

“I’m fine. Just taking a breather before I rejoin Chat Noir in the fight.” Ladybug called back, turning her face to look at Viperion.

Even from a distance, Viperion could see the crease in her brows, made all the more evident by her mask.

Doubt. Fear.

Suddenly, Viperion’s mind was clouded with his soulmate’s emotions.

Without thinking about it, Viperion moved his hand away from his miraculous and pulled his lyre from his side. He began to strum his fingers along the strings. While he usually enjoyed the comfort of feeling his soulmate’s emotions, as if they were always next to him, he couldn’t afford to lose focus with so much on the line.

When he played music like this, Viperion liked to imagine that his music conveyed the words he wanted to share with his soulmate even if they couldn’t hear him play.

Ladybug was surprised as she watched Viperion play his lyre. As Marinette, she had heard him play his guitar before, but not like this. Through the instrument, it was as if Viperion were having an intimate conversation with someone.

At the same time, Ladybug could gradually feel her soulmate’s feelings wash over her. Their feelings calmed her nerves and Ladybug could feel her confidence growing once more. Reinvigorated, Ladybug wound up her yoyo before propelling herself back into the fight with Chat Noir.

A sigh escaped Viperion’s lips as he felt his soulmate calming down. He slipped his lyre back on his side and held his free hand back over his miraculous, prepared to call second chance if needed.

~~-~~

“Thank you for your help today, Luka.” Ladybug smiled, “You did a great job.”

“Of course,” Luka replied, placing the snake miraculous in her outstretched hand.

With the snake miraculous back in her hands, Ladybug prepared to send off her yoyo before hesitating for just a moment.

“I was curious”, Ladybug started until Luka interrupted her.

“About why I was playing the lyre?” Luka couldn’t help but laugh, “It’s an old habit I picked up. Usually, when my soulmate would get stressed out in the past and I could feel her emotions spiraling out of control, I figured out that I could play my guitar and help her calm down. I’ve always been pretty calm so I always worried my soulmate would feel alone, but at least this way I know they can feel me silently supporting them.”

A shy smile made its way onto Luka’s face and Ladybug couldn’t help but blush in return. She felt a swelling in her chest and she wondered silently to herself if her soulmate was standing in front of her now. It would make sense after all. Who else could handle emotions like that than Luka who was always so calm and relaxed? What were the odds?

Ladybug wanted to ask more questions, but the beeping in her ears reminded her that she was limited on time.

“Your soulmate sounds like a very lucky person.” Ladybug smiled, “I hope you get the chance to meet them soon if you haven’t already.”

With those words, Ladybug sent her yoyo high into the rooftops above before giving a sharp tug and flying into the sky after it.

Luka watched as she disappeared, feeling a likewise similar warmth in his chest and wondering idly if it was his own feeling or his soulmates. Or maybe both.

#mlsecretsanta 2k20 #lukanette #miraculous ladybug #my fic #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #soulmate au #chloe-bourgeois-is-big-gay

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youarejesting · 4 years

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Limited Edition.2 Tiny Tan

[FULL MASTERLIST] [Limited Edition Master list]

Beta: N/A Rating: All audiences Genre: Fantasy, Comedy, Fluffy Fluff, Adventure. Pairing: Bts x Friend!Reader Words: 1.3K

Summary: It is your first time buying proper merchandise, there are new chibi figurines and the first person to order will recieve a limited edition set. But what happens when BTS have gone missing without a trace and a few days later you receive your package. The box says congratulations, you open to find your limited edition figures, they look so lifelike. OH WAIT! it’s cause they are.

When you came to you heard talking, it wasn't particularly loud, but it was definitely noticeable. There was a dull ache in the back of your head and reaching behind you to gently touched the area with your fingertips. It sent a searing pain through your body. The floor hadn’t been merciful.

"Ow ow ow" you whined, checking your hand to see a small amount of blood. With a sigh you took your phone from your pocket and tried to take a picture of the wound, it was like a big egg on your head that had the tiniest cut from the impact. Nothing serious.

"She is alive, so at least we didn’t kill anyone" A voice took your attention, you looked to the top of your desk where there was a small gathering behind a collection of eggs.

"Tʜᴀɴᴋ ɢᴏsʜ!” another voice spoke and you peeked to see another face peeking back at you.

"Excuse me miss, where are we?" Namjoon’s voice was a little weaker than you had ever heard him before, but still so strong. He must have been trying to be brave for the others.

"Are we in a parallel universe where humans are twenty-foot? Are you a Titan?" Taehyung asked

"I- you are BTS" you breathed hopping onto your knees and scooting closer, so your nose and eyes were the only things visible over the top of the desk. "Why are you moving, you were meant to be chibi figurines?”

"Wᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟ BTS ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇɴ'ᴛ ᴅᴏʟʟs," Hoseok protested but when your eyes landed on him he squeaked and coward behind their little area.

"If you say you are real, how did you become like this?" You blinked pressing your face into your hands "I have lost the plot talking to figurines, hallucinating that they are moving and talking"

"No, We are real please help us" Jungkook climbed over the barrier of multicolored eggs and walked into view. Despite the protests of the others.

"I am crazy, absolutely crazy" You mumbled and went to poke him. He didn’t flinch holding a brave face and grabbing your finger with his hands and shaking it.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Jungkook said throwing you a smile.

“Jungkook, comeback she could hurt you!” Jimin whispered but you heard it easily.

“No, I wouldn’t I swear,” Trying to convey how gentle you were with your expression.

“Don’t worry, I know, I can feel it, you’re an Army” he pointed at you with a sly grin. Your cheeks flushed so red Jungkook pretended to warm his palms on your cheeks as if your face was a fire on a winters day. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have bought our figurines”

“Actually it’s my first time buying the merchandise” You whispered your face growing warmer again from his teasing. A few had stepped out by now and you watched them slowly navigate your desk. Taehyung walked forward and waved with his tiny hand. It was hard trying to wave your hand as small as you could back in an effort not to scare them.

"Big Lady, I am hungry," Taehyung said

You opened and closed your mouth, pouting and looking down at yourself. You knew he meant because you were physically bigger but you couldn’t help think that he was talking about your size.

“Nᴏ, ʜᴇ ᴅɪᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴ ɪᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ” Jimin called smacking Taehyung’s arm and scolding the fellow 95’er whose eyes widened. He bowed apologizing.

"What do you eat?" You asked politely, their stomachs growled, you were truly curious about what and how much they could consume. What would you feed them? crumbs?

"Anything" they grinned, the prospect of food always made the boys happy. You had seen enough RunBTS to know that.

"Um, I can take you to the fridge, if you would like?" you held out our hands.

None of them moved. What was wrong? Did they still not trust you? “Is something wrong?”

"I don’t like the idea of being carried" Jimin pouted eyeing your hand and peering over the side of the table. It made sense you would be carrying them up high and if they fell they would definitely be hurt.

Taking a deep breath, you leaned back against your bed and tried to think of how to carry them. "Oh, Um, I could carry you in the pocket in the front of my overalls but it might be a tight fit, I could probably carry five of you"

Jungkook nodded jumping into the pocket before grabbing the fabric of your overalls and climbing up to your shoulder almost falling and grasping your hair. You laughed and Taehyung watched Jungkook with bright eyes, he wanted to sit on your shoulder too. Five of them moved closer and you gently placed them in your front pocket so their heads peeked out. Seokjin and Hoseok were shy but soon the pocket was full, leaving Taehyung grinning his hands in the air.

"Pɪᴄᴋ ᴍᴇ ᴜᴘ" He called up to you. You laid your hand on the table and he crawled onto the palm sitting down. Moving your hand slowly to your shoulder, he pulled himself up beside Jungkook, the two sat holding onto your hair so as not to fall.

Slowly standing not wanting any of the boys to slip out of the pocket of your overalls or off your shoulder, you began your short walk to the kitchen.

"you’re really warm" Yoongi placed his squishy cheek against your chest. Jungkook was singing quietly by your ear and you were blushing.

On the way to the kitchen, Namjoon must have seen the news was playing on the tv and asked you to stop and turn it up. Grabbing the remote you pressed the volume button until the reporter’s voice was clear.

"Korean members of the group BTS have gone missing, their manager and CEO had this to say" you all watched silently

"We are unsure of the member’s whereabouts, but we are doing everything in our power to find them, we will not rest until the boys are returned home safely and justice is delivered to those who took the boys"

"The band had just recently launched their figurines and one lucky member even received a limited edition set. The boys will hopefully return safely before their next scheduled album release.

You looked at them, now believing that this could be more real than you first thought, this wasn’t some sort of fever dream, though you still didn’t rule out hitting your head and you were now in a weird coma. "So, how did you end up as limited edition figurines? Do you remember anything?"

"I remember being in the factory," Jungkook sighed his voice was so close to your ear you jumped making the two on your shoulder slip and pull your hair slightly.

“Sorry” You helped them back up onto your shoulder and they moved closer, both hugging the side of your neck and you bit your lip. Your neck was super ticklish.

Seokjin patted your chest looking up at you. His dark eyes and handsome features present even in his chibi form "I am really hungry now, miss"

Continuing your journey to the kitchen, pulling the double doors of the fridge opened with a small gust of cold air revealing nothing on the shelves.

"You haven’t got any food?" Yoongi mumbled disappointed, your face heated up and Taehyung whispered. “Her ears are red” the two grabbed the shell of your ear giggling.

You tried to ignore them and went to the cupboard and looked inside. Another blank, there wasn’t really anything to cook anything for them to eat. Sighing deeply, you reached for your phone, "I will order food, for now, I will have to go shopping later, what would you like?” you helped them all onto the bench and held the phone.

"Hᴀᴍʙᴜʀɢᴇʀ!" Taehyung ran at the touch screen and pressing buttons, it was cute. An average-sized button for your thumb was huge and he used his whole hand to select what he wanted, which was none other than his previously declared hamburger.

How can I save this to receive and read updates?

‘Follow’ and turn on ‘Notifications’ so you never miss an update

Add your name to a ‘Tag’ list [HERE]

‘Reblog’ this post with the hashtag #BTSLE (Limited edition)

Or you can ‘Like’ this post (but good luck trying to find it a week later, we both know how many things you like a day, perhaps we will meet again in the future.)

If you like this give Chibi boys a little love 🥺

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amazingorangedangantrash · 4 years

Note

I'll have 1, 4, 18, 24, and 29 with kamuegi for the shipping meme ask please!

Ask anon, and thou shalt recieve!

1. Who makes the first move, and how?

Kamukura. Whilst he isn't the type to rush into things (he likes to think his actions through), he also isn't one to hesitate either. To him, Naegi would be one of few people who he finds... endearing. I think after spending some time together, Kamukura would realise he likes this person. The idea of having a 'friend' is weird enough as it is, so, hey, why not take it a step further? He's always looking for new stimulation, new experiences, and he isn't exactly going to get romance out of his teachers is he?

I imagine once Kamukura comes to the conclusion he wants to try dating Naegi, it's a blunt and quick confession. Jsjdjsshsj I imagine the two of them are just like chilling or eating lunch or something and Kamukura is just like, "Naegi, go out with me" and poor Naegi is just like "yeah oka- wait what-?"

And, well, Naegi likes Kamukura and hey, he's not going to say no to that but wow is this guy forward

4. Who can't keep their hands to themselves?

Once again, I'd have to say Kamukura. He's not pervy or anything like that, but at the same time if he's certain he wants to do something, he'll do it, without reservation.

(And if that something is pulling Naegi close to him and cuddling with him then so be it.)

Whilst I imagine he'd be a little shy about physical contact at first (not that he'd admit that to himself), once he gets the hang of it he adores it. I take him as the kind of guy who's actions speak louder then his words, so he'd convey his feelings with little, subtle displays of affection, like taking Naegi's hand into his, pulling him close, resting his head on his shoulder etc. (All completely straight-faced of course, but, uh- that's part of his charm.)

I also like to think Kamukura is quite possessive too (he won't admit it, but romance is completely foreign to him, and for the first time he's actually scared of getting it wrong-), so when he's around people he might feel threatened by or uncomfortable around (either fellow students in a pre-despair AU or future foundation members in a post-tragedy AU), he finds himself latching onto Naegi more. It's a mixture between sending the signal that Naegi is his, and also a desire to hold him close, out of a subconscious fear of him being taken away.

Naegi is physically affectionate too, but I actually think he'd be a little more shy about it in public- (he's happy to kiss Kamukura, but the other man always seems to want to make a show of it in front of their peers...) once they're alone, however, he reciprocates just as much. Moreso once he realises Kamukura's love language- they can spend hours with Kamukura's head in his lap, with Naegi running his fingers through his hair comfortingly.

18. When they fight, how do they make up?

Ooh good one! Hmm... I get the feeling that, especially at the start of their relationship, there'd be quite a few misunderstandings and conflicts. Kamukura isn't just new to romance, he's new to- well- being human. There's bound to be some uh... roadblocks in their relationship.

Kamukura is talented, as we know. But he's not so good at expressing himself- feelings are something foreign to him, a being made from numbers and statistics. Whilst he could try to bribe Naegi, with meaningless words or gifts, he knows that's not want Naegi wants. It's more important to him that they understand the root of the problem, and why they fought. If it was really a serious fight, he'll do something that doesn't come easy to him- try to sit with Naegi and talk it out. Kamukura is Logic, Naegi is Emotion- they complement each other, yes, but they also have trouble understanding each other too, so they try to work on their communication.

Each time, they learn a bit more about how the other ticks, and their relationship only grows stronger for it. (If it's not so much a serious fight, Kamukura will give gifts and use small gestures to convey his apology instead- he doesn't say sorry often, choosing to reserve it for the moments he feels he's truly Done Wrong).

Naegi will probably need space at first- and then he'll feel guilty about jumping to conclusions and leaving. Once he's had time to let the intial anger and upset simmer, and his head is clearer, he'll try to think about why what just happened did. Naegi is a person who's quick to forgive, so, regardless of who (if either) of them is in the wrong, he'll want to make up soon as possible. Depending on what the argument was about, he'll either give Kamukura a bit of time, letting the other think, or go back to find him straight away. Naegi is much more verbal in his apologies- they aren't any less genuine, it's just how he communicates. He'll apologise about how he reacted, and will promise to try and keep his cool next time. He wants this relationship to work, and wants them to sit and talk about it- if it's about something Kamukura is uncomfortable with, then he'll be okay with giving him time, and apologise for pushing. He'll sit with him, holding him tight, and will clear out his schedule the next day, so the two of them can spend time together uninterrupted.

24. Where do they first have sex?

Abdjsjdj you guys really like this question huh?

Once again, I imagine Kamukura (once he decides that, yes, Sex is a Thing He Wants To Try) is the first to initiate- the idea, anyway. I can't imagine any highschooler having anything sex-related as their ultimate talent (Ultimate Matchmaker, Ultimate Romantic at most), nothing explicit anyway, so whilst he'd know the common stuff, his general attitude towards it would be more or less the same as everything else.

Ahdhsj I can imagine him after some careful consideration, randomly coming out with, "Naegi, I want to have sex with you", and Naegi, dropping his spoon into his third bowl of cereal like-

"Wh- I- right now-?"

And, well, like, he isn't entirely against the idea, he'd be lying if he said he hadn't had... certain... ideas about his boyfriend and sure he's considered potential developments in their relationship, and Kamukura is coming really close now, and he's looking down at him with that really hot determined gaze he has whenever he's invested in something, like Naegi is just another one of his experiments for Kamukura to do so with as he pleases and shit that sounds really hot and they're kissing and-

"Waitwaitwait wait- let's talk about this first!"

And then they're seated on the couch- Naegi considerably redder then he was before, and Kamukura with a near unnoticeable pink tinge to his cheeks.

"Naegi, I don't believe this is how sex-"

"Yes I'm aware of that."

Anyway because Naegi is a Good Boy, and because I'd hate to disappoint my Year 10 sex ed teacher, they have a long, important talk about consent first- does Kamukura really want this? He's not doing it because it's what society expects right? Because, well, Naegi isn't adverse to sex, not all all, but he doesn't want Kamukura to feel pressured into anything, because, he remembers Kamukura told him before he wasn't really attracted to anyone- not like that? So, um, he doesn't have to go out of his way to try and please Naegi if it's not something he wants himself. Naegi is totally okay with not having a sexual relationship-!

And then Kamukura is taking his face into his hands and oh- he's kissing him, long and hard and deep and really it isn't quite fair that he can be this good at this kind of thing when he hasn't even had any experience so someone must be lying about their talent because there's no way he can be so perfect all by himself-

"Naegi."

Kamukura's gaze locks onto his own, and Naegi feels his breath hitch in his throat as he sees the pure desire in those burning ruby orbs, embers set alight.

"I want it."

(If anyone asks why the sofa seems to have been replaced from the last time they saw it, Naegi will cough slightly and look to the side, muttering something about a leak in the ceiling, and Kamukura will shrug, the tiniest, littlest of smirks dancing at the corners of his lips.)

29. Why do they fall a little bit more in love?

*incomprehensible sobbing noises* oh geez where do i even start-?

For Naegi, it's seeing this side to Kamukura he shows to no one else. And, sure, he'd love it if people were a little nicer, a bit more understanding, that, hey, he is human. But- yet- there's something special, about being the only one. The only one who sees what Kamukura looks like when he wakes, the slight furrow to his brow, the way his movements are just slightly slower then usual. He gets to see the little twitch of Kamukura's lips when he's amused, see the softening of his expression. Normally no one notices when Kamukura is nervous, but he does, he feels it in the way the other's grip tightens around his hand, how his gaze flutter ever-so-slightly to the side, eyes widening a fraction.

He remembers the first time he hears Kamukura laugh- laugh! Kamukura! Laughing! And it's such a strange sound, those silky smooth soft tones rising in pitch, sharp notes, unfamiliar and hesitant drifting into the air.

Makoto thinks it's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard.

Every time Kamukura shows Naegi another part to him, the part of him that's not 'the science project Ultimate Hope', but Izuru Kamukura, the human, Naegi falls a little bit more in love.

He wants to see it all- he wants to see Kamukura laugh, and cry, and blush, and shout, and smile, and sing, and even if he doesn't do any of these things, and keeps that blank face on forever, it's fine, because Naegi knows he's still the only one who gets to receive Kamukura's love, however he shows it, and he wouldnt have it any other way.

Kamukura loves what Naegi teaches him.

He can't do complex equations in the span of a second, or sculpt a masterpiece in minutes, or invent an experiment in hours or publish a book in a week.

But he does what no one had ever tried to teach Kamukura before, and it's- its-

It's how to live.

Naegi teaches him what it means to be human. To live his life, instead of pass through it numbly.

Naegi finds worth in everything, and, to someone like Kamukura who can't find the worth in anything, he's-

He is perfection.

He is perfect in his imperfection. Naegi bakes him a cake for his birthday (he wasn't even aware he had one. He was made, and that was it, no one had ever given him reason to think that worth celebration) and it was- imperfect.

It tilted to the left a little, the layers were uneven, the icing too inconsistent, the writing off-centre, and the taste too sweet.

He saved the candles and placed them in a box.

His birthday gift was handmade too- a chipped mug.

He drinks out of it every morning.

#ahdhshsh #i apologise if the writing's a bit inconsistent #today has just been blecjh #I kinda dont like how some of it came out but WHATEVER #here you go nonny!#sorry its a tad late ajdhshsh #i have such a soft spot for kamuegi <3 #ty for the asks!#kamuegi #izuru kamukura #makoto naegi #ship asks #ask meme #shipping #my post #headcanons #anon

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jiminniethemarshmallow · 5 years

Text

Thank You For Your Service II (M)

Pairing: Jimin x royal!reader

Genre: Smut, fluff, angst

Word Count: 9k

(A/N): Do not fear, there will be a part 3!

Part 1~ Part 2~ Part 3~ Part 4

In the main dining room of your palace sits a group of five, plates laid out neatly before you as the servants begin to clear out of the space. Your father, the King, is seated at the head of the table, looking over his guests with a blank face, analyzing to make sure everything is to everyone’s liking. It’s silent for a few moments, air tense until everyone takes the first bites of their food, the clatter of metal against fine china echoing throughout the room.

“This is a lovely meal your servants have prepared, Your Majesty.” Jimin’s father speaks up, not afraid to eat to his heart’s content even in front of royalty, despite his rather reserved personality.

“Dinner aside, this entire palace is simply astounding! Whomever decorated it must have had incredible taste.” The small woman across from you isn’t timid in the slightest, eyes sparkling as she looks around the room for what feels like the 50th time since you were seated at the table. Your father had insisted on following your kingdom’s long-standing tradition of becoming acquainted with your future in-laws through a week of gatherings and special activities, the last being a family dinner the day before and the day following the wedding. And you’re happy to report that everything has gone smoothly so far. Though they are also nobles, Jimin’s parents are nowhere near as wealthy as they should be with their status— you heard that Jimin’s grandfather gambled away most of his riches in his final months, leaving close to nothing for his 2 children, but you’d never confirmed the full story. Regardless, they live in a nice home in the countryside with just enough to be comfortable, and that seemed to be enough for them. Jimin does not live with them, he resides on a lower level of the palace to serve as immediate protection from any threats and to quickly carry out orders from the King that would be inconvenient if it were not for his close quarters. But despite living here for many years, he has never once invited his parents to visit. And although their son is a soon-to-be King, his parents appear to be completely awestruck by the other royals that they’ve encountered, you included.

“Yes, well, my wife had it redecorated when I took the throne. I believe she thought everything was ‘too dull’ for this to be a proper palace. She may have been correct.” Looking around, the King sighs heavily and finally picks up his fork, having been broken from his pensive state. His sigh is not out of sadness, however, but of longing. Longing for days passed when your mother would glide through the halls with you in her arms, nit picking and straightening all of her decor, teaching you about color schemes and what makes artwork good because “one day you will be queen and then it will be up to you to decorate your home to your liking.” If only she could see you now, sitting next to your love on the eve of your wedding, where you will truly become a Queen and take his place as your kingdom’s leader.

“I believe we would have gotten along quite well,” Jimin’s mother smiles at you with rosy cheeks, catching your eyes. “You both raised an incredible young woman. We would have had much to talk about.” Slightly embarrassed, you break eye contact, dipping your head to take another bite of food. Your father holds conversation easily, the three of them bonding well, and you look over to your fiancé to see his reaction, only to find him stuffing his cheeks like a pig. He must have inherited that behavior from his father, whose stretchy cheeks shine in the well lit room while his crescent shaped eyes convey his joy.

Feeling your eyes on him, Jimin turns to you sheepishly, patting the corners of his mouth with a handkerchief and chewing a bit more slowly. “My love,” You whisper, left hand dropping to his thigh. He tenses, eyes flickering up to your parents who pay no mind to the two of you. “I can hardly eat, I am so excited for tomorrow.” You smile, heart fluttering when his features soften.

“You must eat, My Queen. You will need all of your strength if you intend to make it to tomorrow night.” You know that he means that tomorrow will be a long day for the both of you, having to be on your feet greeting guests all day and accepting gifts, addressing your countrymen; but all you can think about is the night you’ll spend with him as the first part of your honeymoon. Your first night as a married couple. Certainly you will need all of your strength to survive the passionate nights that lie ahead, even if he didn’t mean it that way.

“I do not know if I can.” You tease, tilting your head to the side cutely, pouting your lips in the way that makes him want to kiss you until he’s drunk off your taste.

“Must I hand-feed you? Would you be able to eat then?” He plays along, picking up a generous forkful of food from his plate and taunting you with it. You grin coyly, mumbling a response, and your parents look on as he feeds you a large mouthful right from his own fork, the two of you giggling like teenagers when you can barely close your lips around all of it.

“I am so happy to see how truly in love they are.” His mother swoons, cooing at you in a reminiscent fashion. “You do not know how wonderful it feels to watch your child fall in love.” You and Jimin blush at her words, straightening up again to uphold appearances, even though there is no one here except for the five of you. Jimin begins a conversation that is much less centered around you or your upcoming wedding, and dinner passes by incredibly quickly, desserts being brought out just as the tiredness of the night hits you, but you think you’re too wound up to fall asleep. The King escorts Jimin’s parents to another parlor where they’ll probably be served drinks, but you’re too focused on pulling your lover away to a more private place to talk.

You know the schedules of your servants very well— know where they’ll be and when, how long they stay in each room, even where they go to take breaks and gossip— so it isn’t hard for you to determine a place where you’ll be alone. You avoid passing rooms that contain the prying eyes of your underlings, hiding away from their whispers of how they just knew that something was sparking between you two before the wedding announcement was made 3 weeks ago. Windows displaying the colorful sky still lit with the remnants of the sun greet you at every other turn, the lighting getting lower with every step you take, peeking your head around the corners and scurrying past doorways.

“You do know we do not need to sneak around together any longer, correct?” Jimin chides, one eyebrow raised, your hand soft in his as you pull him along.

“I’m aware.” Ascending a narrow stairwell, you giggle when he stumbles and squeezes a little harder, grumbling about how the first thing he’ll do as King is finance repairs to this rickety old castle.

“Where are you taking me?” He whines, feeling as if you were simply fooling with him and you would just end up back where you started.

“You will see, my love. We are almost there.” Turning into a long corridor, you tiptoe past an open door where a stream of light spills from the doorframe. Hoping to go unnoticed, you creep slowly, but the moment you are at the center of the opening, the servant inside turns and sees you. He stands at a sink, a pile of dishes next to him and suds covering him up to his elbows.

“Ah! Good evening, Your Highness.”

“Evening, Jinwoo.” Your smile tightens when he wipes his hands on his apron and steps closer, preparing for a conversation.

“What brings you to this side of the palace? I thought you were entertaining guests?” He muses, not yet noticing the hand clasped in yours, but when he does, his face hardens just the slightest bit. The man bows when Jimin steps into the lighted doorway, showing respect to the General who nods in acknowledgment. “I see,” He states, taking a step back to his station and grabbing another dish, jaw muscle twitching unnoticeably. “Well, have a lovely night, My Queen.”

Jimin’s eyes squint a little at the term of endearment, but immediately he’s being pulled down the hall, your walking pace picking up as you near your destination. You hear a crash of plates, but neither of you dwell on it for long as you hurry around the corner.

Through a heavy pair of doors lies a room lost in time, stacked with shelves of dusty books and family treasures locked away in chests. It looks like nothing in the room has been touched for decades apart from one of the reading chairs found on the far end of the library, seated before a window that overlooks the colorful pedals of the back garden, you and Jimin’s favorite flowers planted in celebration of your upcoming union.

“Where are we?” Jimin is clearly in awe, eyes roaming to every inch of the room he has a feeling he’s not supposed to know about.

“Welcome to the Secret Library.” You gesture, stepping into the waning beams of light slithering through the grand archway that separates the reading area. “It is my favorite place to be in the entire world— aside from being in your arms, of course.” You add with a flutter of your eyelashes when Jimin rolls his eyes at your coyness.

“What exactly is this place?” He asks after taking a lap around the sizable space, taking in the dated decor and deteriorating items that litter the shelves neatly. It seems as though even the servants have forgotten about this place.

“It’s practically a relic now, but this was once a very important room. It is said that this was the first room to be completed in the original design of the palace, so it holds a lot of history; although, now it is only home to outdated political law books and criminal records from when the dungeons were still being put to use.” You look completely at ease as you run your fingers along the familiar wood of a table, eyeing your fiancé for his reaction to all of this.

“How did you find it? I am certain that this room is out of the way of any normal path a princess or queen would take on any occasion.” Having lived here all your life, it would make sense that you know the ins and outs of your home, but from the looks of it, nobody has been in this room for years, except for you.

“Adventures of a stubborn, young girl.” You chuckle. “My mother found me standing outside of it one morning. I wanted to hide from her because I had no interest in going to my etiquette classes, so I set out to look for a place no one would find me— and I figured this would be perfect since I had never even heard of such a place in my years of living here— but I could not open the heavy doors. Instead of pulling me away and scolding me, my mother helped me open the doors and we spent the rest of the morning in here. She told me about its history and what all of the books contained, showed me a few family relics. After that, this place became my little paradise. It is the only truly peaceful part of the palace, where no one can see you, where no one bothers you, it is a place that has always been mine.” You turn to him when Jimin steps up beside you, both of you now standing in front of the wide viewing window and watching as gardeners tend to your flowers even as the last bits of light disappear beyond the tree line.

“Does anyone else know of this place?” He asks quietly, as if he were afraid to break the calm silence that has fallen between you two.

“None that are living. Just you and I.”

“I am beyond flattered that you would take me here, but I would think that you would desire to keep at least one thing to yourself. Especially since this room holds so much significance.” He seems sheepish when he says this, not making eye contact with you and keeping his gaze fixed on the landscape ahead.

“My love, when will you stop doubting your worthiness?” You wrap your arms around his muscular torso, his arms circling your hips out of habit. “What is mine, is yours. I do not want to go into this marriage with any secrets, even one as trivial as this. I wish to share everything important to me with you because you are the most important person in my life.” Your heartfelt words make his heart clench and he has to pull away from you for fear of tearing up in front of you. But you can tell already and simply smile.

Lighting a lantern with a nearby match, he makes a comment about it getting dark soon to change the subject. He then walks over to the used chair, taking a seat and glancing at the one adjacent, noting how they are identical in every aspect except for the heavy coat of dust cloaking it. “That seat looks neglected.” He points out, expecting you to sit in it, but instead, you ease yourself into his lap a moment after he gets comfortable.

“Well, this seat has the better view.” Angled just slightly differently than it’s twin, Jimin can’t tell the difference, apart from the fact that you can catch a glimpse of the cherry orchard to the right of the flower gardens. “I have to say, though, this seat feels a lot more comfortable tonight than it has in the past.” Grinding your hips back, you slide higher up his crotch, feeling his legs tense beneath you when you brush against his length. Jimin’s hands fall to your thighs, fingers squeezing at your flesh in warning. Leaning back into him, your eyes fall closed when his lips find your neck, kissing over your pulse point tantalizingly.

“My Queen, do not tempt me.” He whispers into your heating skin, tone mirroring the rapidly darkening sky. “We have lasted the entire week without intimacy, we can survive just one more day.” You sigh, remembering your agreement. A week without sex is what you proposed; you would display patience and restraint for one another until the day of your wedding. The entire kingdom expects you to be a virgin anyway, why cause suspicion now when all eyes are focused on the two of you? That would certainly be an unsatisfactory image. No one can see you up here, two stories off the ground, but you will hold each other accountable because it is only for one more night after all.

“Our agreement entails that we do not have intercourse, but it says nothing about touching.” Shifting your hips back just slightly is enough to make Jimin hiss, a week’s worth of tension causing him to harden despite his best efforts to remain calm. Your attire is formal, yet thin enough for you to feel the bulge growing under you and the hands that crawl up your midsection toward your chest.

“This feels like a trick, to see if I am strong enough to resist you.” He whispers, breath hitching when you arch into his palms.

“I assure you, it is not.” His fingers squeeze at the flesh of your breasts, appreciative of the fact that you rarely wear bras or corsets on occasions where you are not required to leave these walls. He can feel your stiff nipples poking through the material of your summer gown, the garment sticking to your skin from the dewy humidity of the palace. He wishes to take it off of you, but then he would for sure lose all self-control and ravish you right then and there.

“Either way, I do not think I can keep my word if this goes too far.” You’re hardly listening, sucking in gasps when his fingers twist at your peaks, his hips miraculously motionless beneath you.

“What happened to being a General who must possess great restraint and self-control at all times? Is that not what you said to me when you refused me your seed just 3 weeks ago?”

“Do you write down every word that I speak? I do not recall, although it is true.” He chuckles, hands gliding back down your waist until they stop at your upper thighs, beginning to bundle up your dress until he can slip under it easily. “However, my limits are embarrassingly low when it comes to you. I can rarely deny you of anything.”

“I s-see.” With his fingers climbing steadily up your inner thighs to play with the hem of your panties, you can’t hide your excitement. It feels like it’s been forever since he’s touched you. Yes, you’ve gone weeks without touching him when he travels to secure borders and fight battles for your protection, but usually you’d be so worried about his safety that your sex drive would diminish almost completely until he returned— then you would have hot, passionate sex to show your relief that he’s come back healthy and alive. That is different, though, because you wouldn’t see him during the week he was gone, and therefore only had thoughts to keep you occupied. Now, you have the real person with you at almost all hours of the day, dressing in kingly attire for your week of family tradition and public appearances, and your desire for him is unbearable. Especially now that you’re alone with him in a place that no one will be able to interrupt you.

Jimin skims his fingers along the edge of your silky panties, teasing you with both actions and words. “But you seem to be worse than me. Look at how impatient you’ve grown, my darling. Are you already wet?” Finally, one of his fingers traces along your slit, pressing gently just to feel how the fabric sticks to your core where a wet patch has already developed. He’s teasing you about being wound up, but you can feel how he twitches when he feels your arousal. He clicks his tongue at you. “So messy already, I’ll bet you were horny throughout the entire dinner, weren’t you?” Prompted to speak, you lick your dry lips and attempt to find your voice.

“I have been tense with anticipation for our honeymoon, my love. I cannot stop thinking about it.” You whimper, wiggling your hips in hopes that his fingers would brush against your clit, but he just continues to rub over the wet spot aimlessly.

“Oh? Are you truly that excited for it?” You nod, pressing yourself back onto him so that you can feel his entire front on your back, his face resting in the crook of your neck. “If only your kingdom knew what thoughts ran through the mind of their delicate Queen. Tell me, what exactly do you imagine us doing once we are wed?”

“...Promise you will not judge me,” You plead in a hesitant voice, heart rate spiking up at the thought of letting your inner fantasies be known.

“You have my word.” He’s curious now, mind rushing with thoughts of what you could possibly say next.

“I often daydream of you b-bounding my hands...” The stutter in your voice makes you lose confidence and you press your eyes shut when Jimin’s hand pauses its movements.

“To the bed frame?” Your nod causes him to take in a sharp breath, fingers continuing their up and down stroking against your core. “And what do I do once your hands are bound?”

“You tease me with kisses all over my body, never giving me what I crave most, until I can no longer resist and beg you to touch me...” Your voice gets shaky when he throbs beneath you, humming for you to keep going. “Then you spread my legs wide and eat me until I quake.” Just the words alone are enough to make you gush, his finger dampening from the amount of liquid seeping through your panties.

“Hmm, and do you want me to touch your clit now?” He muses, kissing your neck slowly. Your confirmation comes in a polite whisper and his hand immediately moves to cup your sex, palm putting pressure on the bud, but not quite what you expected. “I will, under one condition.” You pause to turn your head his way, a submissive glint sparkling in your eyes and he swears internally. “Your hips, they must be still at all times. I will not make it if you rub yourself against me any longer.” The dominance slips from his voice a little, genuine desperation peeking through, and you feel your walls throb at the thought of him cumming in his pants while touching you or giving in completely to sink himself fully inside your warmth. Either option sounds amazing right about now, but you agree wholeheartedly because you don’t want him to stop before it’s even started.

“I will try,” You waver, “For you.” He bites his lips when you bat your eyelashes at him, settling yourself in his lap and showing that you will be a good girl for him. Though not naturally submissive, he can bring it out of you in an instant. His fingers skim up and down your lower lips, squeezing your clit between them, and you almost move your hips into the feeling before catching yourself and forcing them still. Jimin takes his middle finger and presses it to the nub, noting how it swallows at the contact before he starts to rub in slow circles, spreading the juices he gathered from the soiled silk to create another dark spot. The sensation sends pleasure tingling through your toes, your back arching before Jimin hums dangerously behind you in warning.

As soon as you’re back to your original position, he pulls your panties tight against you, the fabric trapping your clit roughly with pressure and you moan, unable to see the smirk on your lover’s face. “Be as loud as you wish, My Queen, I’ve longed to hear that sweet voice of yours.” He whispers hotly against your ear, finally pushing the garment down your legs to hook at your knees, pulled tight in their stitching from your efforts to spread your legs for him. His fingers are cool in comparison to your heated skin, dancing over the hood of your nerves before dipping their tips into the pool of your entrance and returning with a generous amount of your shiny glaze. The first few touches are teasingly light, ghosts that test your obedience when the urge to buck into him builds inside you. But you resist and are immediately rewarded with steady circles that send chills up your spine. You always love how Jimin’s fingers feel on you, whether they’re inside, roaming, or pinching, but this has to be your favorite use of them, and they’re so much better than your own. He knows exactly how you like to be touched, moving slowly around the bud until your breathing becomes labored, then switching to faster flicks that has heat building in your gut.

“Jimin,” You groan when it becomes harder to keep still, your head tilting back onto his shoulder. He chuckles, tongue tracing from the base of your neck to the sensitive spot behind your ear, stopping to nibble your lobe along the way. The urge to mark your skin is there, but he has to remind himself that your skin must remain flawless for your wedding day, so he settles for peppering ticklish kisses to the spots he knows drives you crazy. You’re soaking now, slick nearly dribbling onto his trousers before he slides back down to collect it and spread it back up your core.

“Does it feel good, Love?” Jimin ponders against your ear, his own eyes shut to focus in on the sound of your heavy breaths and moans. He feels the need to feel more of you in that moment, left hand making its way to your breasts to palm the supple flesh as it heaves up and down.

“I’m close,” You whisper, sweat beads crawling down your temples and between your cleavage because of your high body temperatures that can no longer be blamed on the summer heat.

“Is that a yes?” You nod, shivering when his teeth skim your veins as if he were going to suck marks there when you least expect it. His length is now straining against its material under your ass, solid as a rock and hot as cast iron, begging for friction that he explicitly asked you to deny him. But your walls throb in time with it, calling out for each other and pleading for him to lose control just once and fill you with his thick cock and fuck you until your legs go numb. You know he won’t, he’s too disciplined to break an agreement on the last day, but you aren’t nearly as strong as him, and it feels like you won’t be able to cum unless he’s filling you up in one way or another.

“Please, I need-“ Cut off by your own moan, you swallow thickly, your panties creating marks around you knees from where they are stretched so tightly. Jimin seems to know what you mean already, however, and slides his hand away from your chest to touch at your entrance. “I feel so empty, please.” Your eyes open and immediately lock with his in your reflection in the window. Darkness having engulfed the outside world, you can now see yourself clearly on the glass due to the flickering candle behind you, and what you see steals your breath. You sit perched on Jimin’s lap with your back arched and legs spread, both of his hands occupied at your core as he still works diligently against your clit. His eyes are glued to your figure in the glass and his lips part to let out steamy puffs in a desperate attempt to keep himself from getting too worked up, although you can tell by the look in his eye that he’s contemplating risking it all just to have you bouncing on top of him right now.

Your legs shut on his hands a little, causing your panties to fall the rest of the way down your legs, a wave of shyness running through you from seeing yourself like this for the first time. You look so docile begging for him like this that it’s no wonder why your beloved takes such pleasure in dominating you in the bedroom. It looks like you’d do anything for him. And you would. And it’s exactly this type of compromising position that you fantasize about being in, giving up all of your power and doing exactly what you’re told as he has his way with you, having your hands tied figuratively and literally.

“Do not try to hide yourself, My Queen, I want you to see exactly how I touch you.” Opening your legs wider this time without the restrictions of your underwear, you regain confidence and forget about everything else but the pleasure. Jimin waits until you look back down at your core before pushing in two of his chubby fingers, groaning along with you when he feels how warm and tight you are around him. Oh, how he wishes you were around his cock instead.

“Fuck,” You gasp, clenching as he works his fingers in deeper until his knuckles are snug against your lips. His fingers curl when he gives you a few thrusts, stilling when he feels you get tighter.

“Be still, my love.” He chides when your hips twitch into him. Your clit is pulsing against his fingertips in time with your heartbeat, a telltale sign that you’re close, and Jimin wants nothing more than to feel you cum while his fingers are inside you. Moaning louder, you can no longer keep your eyes open and throw your head back onto his shoulder again, one leg bending to perch on the edge of the seat so he has better access to your dripping cunt, your juices running down his hand the closer you get to your high. You imagine it’s his cock stuffed in your cavern, so wet that it slides in and out effortlessly with a squelch every time his hips snap up to meet yours, rubbing all of your spots with its ridges and veins. Curses tumble from your mouth as you feel yourself reaching the breaking point, Jimin struggling to keep a steady pace against you, forcing his fingers not to speed up as he imagines you clinging to his shaft with your dripping walls, your pussy sucking him in and gripping hard to keep him there as you orgasm. He thinks, then, how lucky his fingers are to be inside you, feeling your tightness and incessant clenching, soaked in your arousal, and he can’t help but lift his hips slightly to relieve some of the pressure in his groin, but that only makes it worse because the friction is addictive and now he can’t seem to stop grinding up into you, his own ragged breaths joining yours.

“Please don’t stop,” You whine, the coil in your abdomen beginning to unravel when you notice his movement, and a brief moment later you’re falling into a long orgasm, his slow fingers dragging you out to sea like the pull of a tidal wave. The deep groan that sounds next to your ear pulls you in deeper, snatching your breath as you continue to contract around Jimin’s digits. Suddenly, his fingers on your clit become too much, the light touches wracking your body with harsh jolts, but he doesn’t stop until you begin to whine loudly and grip at his wrist. It is then that you realize that he isn’t really paying attention, his eyes closed and lips pressed to your shoulder to stop the sounds bubbling from his throat. He must be oh so close to his release, if the sweat gliding down the sides of his face is anything to go by, and you feel a bit selfish for having cum without him, even though it was upon his request. “My love, you do not have to suffer silently.”

“Hm?” He questions, eyes drifting open for a brief moment before squeezing shut again at the swivel of your hips.

“I want you to taste the same bliss I have. You have been so stressed these few days, please do not deny yourself relief.” You grind slow into his lap, your left over wetness making a noticeable splotch on his dress pants when his fingers vacate from their place between your thighs, and he reaches forward to hold firmly to your waist with his wet digits. You half expect him to stop you, to push you away with some dull excuse of not needing your help tonight, promising that he is fine and pretending he isn’t about to explode from the pressure in his balls. But he’s too far gone by this point and you’re satisfied with the way he bucks into your ass, panting against your skin jaggedly.

You focus on pressing down hard on him, digging into his muscular thighs for support when his grinding nearly throws you off of him. “Fuck, I wish I could be inside of you.” He mumbles, humping faster until his breaths turn into small moans and you have to support yourself on his thighs. “I cannot wait until we are wed— I can f-finally love you without worry,”

“And you can finally release within me and make me take your seed, as well.” You grin, knowing how eagerly he has awaited impregnating you. Thinking about it now sets his body aflame. The guttural groans he lets out when he releases makes your walls flutter, the pain in your sides from his fingers unnoticeable compared to the sense of pride that swells in your chest at your achievement. He quakes a little as you ride him out gently, his teeth skimming your shoulder again but never biting down. You relax against his chest, turning to capture his lips that you quickly realize are swollen from where he’s been biting them instead of you. The heat between your bodies subsides as you kiss, sweaty clothes sticking to you like a second layer of skin, and it’s somewhat uncomfortable, but you can’t bring yourself to pull away just yet.

When you do find the strength to release his lips, you grin and rest your head in the crook of his neck. “How do you feel, my love?” His body seems completely at ease, arms wrapped around you securely.

“Embarrassed. Guilty.” He drawls, hand running up and down your arm as you giggle. “But satisfied.” He smiles. “Thank you, My Queen.”

“Why are you guilty? We did not have intercourse, and technically I did not even touch you, so we have not broken any rules. Besides, what kind of fiancé would I be if I left my bethrothed in discomfort on the eve of our wedding?” The adorably innocent eyes you give him makes him melt, and all Jimin wants in this moment is to keep you to himself locked away in this room, away from the world and from any harm, safe and sound.

He has this gut feeling, or maybe it’s just nervous jitters, but he doesn’t want to leave this room. Everything is perfect, quiet except for your breathing, dim except for a single candle, and he feels as though he won’t get the chance to have moments like this with you after tomorrow. He’ll be a king, taking on responsibilities he tells himself he’s prepared for, and you will be at his side the entire time offering love and support, but he wonders if he’ll even have enough time for you when everything is said and done. It’s probably ridiculous for him to think this way, he knows this— there are plenty of royal couples that live happily ever after, especially the ones who married for love— yet his worries still consume him. Will he be able to protect you as both a king and a military leader? What if he can’t juggle his responsibilities and ends up starting a war accidentally just because he didn’t know how to write a proper letter or peace treaty and now your life and the lives of your countrymen are endangered?

You feel him tense again and look up into his eyes, watching them waiver and sparkle as he looks back at you. No words need to be exchanged for you to know what he’s thinking, you just simply reach up and comb your hands through his hair and kiss away all of the creases on his face, smoothing them out with every delicate touch of your lips.

“Careful with those hot irons!” Lilian barks at the young girl fixing your hair, her eyes sharp as she oversees your preparations. You’re ready half an hour early due to her diligence yet you’re still stressed, reminding her every once in a while that she doesn’t need to bite off everyone’s heads in order for things to be completed properly. “You are correct, Your highness, but it is not every day that our beloved queen is getting married! But I will try to be more patient.” She smiles and nods, immediately going back to hissing at another maid that has carelessly placed your flower bouquet on a nearby table.

You can feel everyone’s tension as they rush around to make sure everything is perfect for you, touching up your makeup and fixing and inspecting your dress for the thousandth time. You haven’t seen Jimin yet today, but you get the feeling that he’s nervous and stressed out too, probably ruining his hairstyle from the amount of times he’s run his hands through it. The thought makes you smile. He seemed really emotional last night and you can’t stop thinking about his words, how he vowed to protect you always and be there whenever and wherever you needed him. You have never seen him that clingy before, insisting on carrying you across the palace to your room and holding you so tightly upon his departure, repeating how much he loves you and begging to hear you say it back to him. You think deep down he’s afraid you’ll be a runaway bride or something of the sort, so you assured him that that would be ridiculous about a hundred times before he finally left for his quarters last night. You can only imagine the look of relief on his face once he sees you walking down the aisle.

The door to your dressing room opens, breaking you out of your thoughts, and you turn to find Jimin’s mother walking in gingerly as if she were interrupting something. “I hope I’m not intruding.” She smiles sheepishly, bowing to everyone in the room before Lilian forces them to leave so you two could have some privacy. When his mother sees you, her face lights up in the exact same way Jimin’s does whenever you dress up, and your heart melts. “You are so beautiful!” She gushes, sauntering over to where you stand to greet her, kissing both her cheeks fondly.

“Thank you,” Is all you can say, noting how her eyes are examining your dress with fascination.

“Wow, you are absolutely gorgeous.” She says softer this time, and when she looks back up at your eyes, hers are sparkling with wetness. “I remember my wedding. Jimin’s father was so nervous that I could see him shaking from the moment I stepped into the aisle.”

“I hope Jimin is not so nervous,” You bite down on your lip. “I wish I could be with him right now.”

“Do not worry, Your Majesty. I recently saw him and he looks very composed. You and I both know that his pride will not let him show any weakness in front of his people. Appearances are everything to that boy.” You both laugh lightheartedly. It’s true, you know, but a part of you would love to see him get tearful at the altar. She looks at you again, head to toe, and you watch her face morph into something a bit sadder. “My mother wasn’t at my wedding. She did not approve of my husband— she wanted me to marry a wealthy nobleman since my father had left us with nothing, but I said yes to someone who could not even cover our debts. The woman stayed home and sent her regards through a cousin.”

You both look away from each other, your eyes falling to your feet as hers land somewhere on your dress. There is a beat of silence before she continues.

“But it has always been my dream to see my daughter get married, to see her in a beautiful dress and watch as she is joined with the man that she loves. But then I had a son.” She sneers playfully. “In all honesty, I did not expect that he would end up with someone as amazing as you. Someone more beautiful than all the other maidens in the land. A woman so sweet and beloved by everyone she meets. A queen who holds herself to a standard and lives by it. I could not be prouder of the fact that you are the woman that has chosen to love my son— it feels like a triumph for me as a parent. And I am aware that your mother is not here to see you today, but I just know that she is watching from the skies, probably crying tears of joy at how perfect her daughter looks on her wedding day. I want you to know that you are my daughter now, and that I embrace you with open arms. I will do my best to care for you and offer any advice that you may need from a mother, and I will protect you to the best of my ability— even though Jimin has probably vowed to do the same. What I am trying to say is that I am honored to be your new mother-in-law and I will love you as if you sprung from my own womb.”

The short woman embraces you tightly when she finishes her speech, careful not to disturb your gown, and you don’t quite know what to say to her. She is so genuine in her words and actions that you have no choice but to believe her, and it almost feels as if you were with your own mother again. You pull away from the long hug to fan at your eyes, batting away the tears that threaten to ruin the makeup your servants worked so hard to perfect. Your mother-in-law reaches onto the vanity for some tissue, patting the underside of your eyes as gently as possible and checking your face to make sure she hasn’t ruined anything, making a joke about Lilian murdering her if she were to mess up your appearance.

“Oh, there is one last thing. Speaking of wombs, I expect from you a bundle of lovely grandchildren to call my own, preferably within the next year. Though, I am certain the two of you have already planned to work on that little detail as soon as possible.” You blink at her words, feeling your face redden.

“Y-Yes ma’am, I will be sure to bear heirs quickly.” You do not add onto your words, trying hard not to cringe at the implications of you admitting to wanting to procreate with her son possibly at the end of this night.

“I will hold you to those words.” She beams, dropping the subject to allow you to recover. “Are you ready, my dear?” She asks once you’ve collected yourself once again. The butterflies in your stomach explode when you look at the clock, the time of your marriage approaching ever closer.

“Of course.” You grin.

The ceremony goes without a hitch from the moment the grand doors open to reveal you in your dress. As expected, nearly the entire kingdom has shown up to watch your union, all the nobles gathered in the vast hall and everyone else awaiting outside your gates to be a part of the monumental occasion. Your father watches from his throne, posture unmovable and stoic the entire time, but you can see the twinkle in his eye once it’s official that you and Jimin are now husband and wife. Your mother’s throne sits next to your father’s in its usual spot, her crown resting on the cushion, and it feels as if she were here, smiling softly and squeezing your father’s hand when emotion threatens to overcome him. You both feel her presence and it is a comfort to you as you and Jimin complete the coronation process, ending with your father crowning your heads and relinquishing his title as King and sovereign ruler of the land.

Just like his mother had predicted, Jimin was composed throughout the entire ceremony— but one thing he could not hide was his smile. He looked absolutely enchanted from the moment you began walking down the aisle, and that look never left his face the entire day, becoming contagious to you every time you looked at him— which was difficult considering you never took your eyes off him to begin with. It felt like your cheeks would get stuck like that, but you didn’t mind one bit. His parents were not as stiff as him, however, because the few times you had glanced their way you found both sobbing tears of joy into their handkerchiefs.

It is a little past midday when you begin the reception for your guests, standing in the doorway of the Grand Hall to welcome the multitudes of nobles before taking your own seats at the center of the long table. Conversations flow easily over the floor of live music your father arranged, masking the rummaging of your servants who bustle about to prepare for the large feast you cannot wait for. A corner full of gifts occupies you first and Lilian silently hands you and Jimin the boxes and bags one at a time, each one seeming more extravagant than the last.

“Maybe so, but there could not possibly be a better gift than the one just received...”

“Certainly not...”

“I’ve absolutely been outdone...”

“Hush, there is still more to come..”

Close relatives and family friends squabble about the fine gifts you’ve come to acquire, everyone fawning over a rug made from the skin of some exotic animal you’ve never seen before. It probably won’t have much of a place in your castle once you decorate, though; you’ve never been a fan of dead animals.

“This? Better than 3 of the finest show horses? Hogwash!” Your aunt scoffs, proud of her wealth and the fact that she could afford to give away three of her best horses without much hassle.

“Well, ‘twas far more expensive.” Someone shrugs in the background as Jimin hands you one of the heavier boxes from the corner himself, ignoring Lilian’s grumbles.

“Indeed, but wait until she opens my present! It shall be surpassed by none!” A man by the name of Seokjin proclaims. He’s come by the castle often, originally to ask your hand in marriage, then to sell you and the King various goods his family has acquired through their trade business after you flatly rejected him. He’s now become a good friend of yours— and a funny one at that— and you have no doubt that his gift will be just as flamboyant and outrageous as his lifestyle.

“We will see about that,” You turn your nose up to him. “I still favor the ring.” On your dominant hand sits a giant ring made of the most brilliant gems in the nation. Though not nearly as expensive or precious as the wedding ring that’s been passed down by generations of royalty, it is colorful and bright and you can’t stop staring at it.

“Not for long, Your Majesty.” Seokjin flaunts, narrowing his eyes playfully at you.

You inspect your hand once more, captivated by the glistening jewelry, but soon your gaze is averted to your husband as he takes your hand and squeezes it in his own, rubbing his thumb over yours and playing with the ring. He’s said few words to anyone other than you the whole day, his focus solely on you in your dress, and you get the feeling that he’s thinking some inappropriate thoughts inside that royal head of his. Aside from that, it also seems that he is on “guard dog” mode because he keeps shooting suspicious looks at anyone that gets too close to you, but you pass that off as him being protective of his new Queen.

In actuality, Jimin is still just as nervous as he was last night. He’s come to the realization that it is not just the anxiety of becoming a King that he is feeling, but a foreboding gut feeling that he is all too familiar with. It is the same feeling he gets when he is on the battlefield before anyone knows it is a battlefield, with an enemy waiting in the shadows for an ambush attack. He doesn’t know why, but something feels off in this room, or maybe it is just too happy, and it is killing him that he can’t quite figure out what it is.

“Seokjin!” You gasp in shock, face bloodshot red and fuming, but there’s a smile on your cheeks as you try to hide the racy garment he packed sneakily underneath the framed painting he commissioned just for you.

“This is a wedding gift, after all. I wanted to make sure our Queen was well prepared for what comes after the festivities are over.” He shrugs, ignoring the looks your older attendees are bombarding him with. You try to avoid the gazes of your father and Jimin’s parents, all of their faces probably just as red as yours as you turn to bury your face in your husband’s collar. “I will accept my thanks later, Your Highness.” He winks at Jimin, who is occupying himself with organizing everything back into the box and out of sight so they can move forward from this embarrassment.

Shortly after the crowded corner has been cleared of unopened novelties, the feast is set out on the tables, everyone taking their seats to dig into the finest meal you’ve ever seen. Your stomach growls loudly once your plate his been piled high with all of your favorites, and you don’t even bother with etiquette when you begin to dig in— not that anyone is paying attention to you anymore. Jimin has lightened up a bit after confirming that none of the presents you have received are dangerous, and you can feel him opening up after the first couple of bites of food. He tells a story to your table about things he’s experienced while traveling the nations in the military, impressing all of your richest subjects and earning the favor of the room shortly thereafter. Servants scurry around during his stories, clearing plates and refilling drinks and you have never seen your castle move so efficiently. You will have to compliment them on that later. There is one servant who is especially attentive, however, and it seems as if he is always right there before you even know you need something from him.

Jimin makes eye contact with him several times throughout the meal, the man ducking his head each time but never averting his eyes like the others, and he would have found that strange if not for the animated way he was speaking, captivating the entire room like a true leader in his natural element. You sit there staring at Jimin with hearts in your eyes, latched onto his arm and absolutely in love, sure that your life could not get any better, and the room erupts into coos when Jimin looks at you the same way, the two of you breaking out into adorable giggles of joy. Towards the end of the meal, you become more clingy with the promise of this public event coming to an end. You were looking forward to leaving the spotlight and finally getting a moment to let this sink in, to bask in the fact that you are now married to the love of your life, and to spend your first night as a married woman wrapped in his arms and around his body.

“I cannot eat another bite.” Your father-in-law comments, but his eyes go wide when dessert is served along with glasses of champagne. His wife shakes her head at him and clicks her tongue, watching him reach for his fork again.

“You certainly inherited his appetite.” You laugh when Jimin does the same, digging in to the pie slice placed before him. Your attendant comes back with your glasses of bubbly liquid and places one in front of each of you meticulously, and the former King decides now is the perfect time to have a toast, speaking words from his heart that make you tear up a bit. Neither you or Jimin drink right away, putting your glasses down to share a short kiss that swoons the room, and no one notices the lingering servant who stares with blazing eyes from his place off to the side. There is a cold breeze from an open window that cools the sweltering room a bit, the chill making you shiver, but it is welcomed as you sweat in the layers of your white gown.

“Your Highnesses, you have not touched your champagne.” A noble points out, noting that the toast wouldn’t be official unless you drink to the King’s words.

You reach for your glass first, suggesting that Jimin lift his own. “Let us drink together,” You smile, waiting for him to reach forward, and there are eyes on the back of his head as he does so. But suddenly you snatch the champagne from him a moment before his fingers can close around its neck and swap the glasses, holding out your own to him instead with a playful twinkle in your eye. “May we drink from the other’s glass as a symbol of our union.” Once he takes your glass, there is not a moment’s hesitation before the rim is to your lips and you are swallowing the bubbly drink. You only take two small sips before pulling it away from your lips, wincing at the burn in your throat.

Everyone laughs at the face you make, knowing your reputation for not liking to drink much, but Jimin is the only one who teases you about it. “It is sweet, is it not? Then why do you look so bitter?” He laughs, eyeing the embarrassed blush that overcomes your face, not seeing the man behind him that stands with wide eyes and a tight lip— the only one in the room not laughing.

“It is not so... bad.” You blink up at Jimin, his face appearing a little hazy, and your smile falters when you keep blinking and it only gets worse. His smile has also dropped, noticing how you nearly miss when you move to set your glass back upon the table. Seokjin makes some offhanded comment about you not being able to hold your liquor, but you don’t quite catch it, barely noticing the laughter swelling around the room again.

Jimin continues to stare at you as you sway a bit and he knows there is no way you could possibly be this intoxicated so quickly, but it is only when your eyes start to drift shut and you nearly fall out of your chair that the alarm bells in his head start ringing. You feel his hands on you when he lunges forward to catch you. Your shoulder pressing into the edge of the table. And you can hear him asking if you are alright, but you can no longer see him or anything else around you. It feels as if your body has gone numb, nothing responding to your will, and you are too disoriented to feel the fear that should surely be tight in your gut. Just darkness. And cold. Like life being sucked from your lips by death’s kiss.

The room erupts into chaos when you go completely limp, and the last thing you feel is your body being lowered to the ground as everything falls silent to you.

#Jimin smut #bts jimin #jimin royal au #bts smut #jimin scenario #ksmutclub #ficswithluv

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tsukaramachi · 5 years

Text

Valentine Dilemma (Yuuto x reader)

Ah the month of love or loneliness, February. The time where partners celebrate their love, the time when it’s the best chance to convey hidden feelings, and also the worst time to be alone. But for a young boy named Yuuto, it’s one of the most stressful things in his life. Not because he has to plan how to confess his feelings, but the dread that someone else might do it before him. After going online to look for inspiration on how to make the month special for (Y/N), he came across a thread that focused on valentines from the past.

One person expressed their sorrow about them planning too much to the point that their surprise ended in vain when they found the person of their affection being confessed to by another. Sadly accepting the other person’s feelings and leaving the poster to spend a sad night alone. Another had planned too little and had been outdone by another with a more grand display of love. Someone else even ranted about how their love letter ended up in the wrong locker and having to deal with an awkward misunderstanding.

After spending a night filling his head with horrific and sad stories of unrequited love, the white haired boy’s head filled up with a thousand responsibilities on how his surprise could end up a failure.

A sigh left the boy’s lips as he twirled the light pink mechanical pencil in between his fingers. A clean sheet of paper in front of him, it mocked him with it’s blank state. Wanting to make a very special surprise for you, Yuuto had to leave right after school and sacrifice his time with you to come up for an idea for Valentine’s day. He had many ideas on what he could do, but the reason why he didn’t jot any of them down is due to the fear of them ending up a disaster.

First, he came up with the idea of making you homemade chocolates. He thought it would be nice to decorate a big heart with different designs with the words “Will you be mine?” but the idea seemed too cliche. The idea had also made him flush a deep red for how embarrassing the idea was. So, he scrapped it and thought up of another. A date with just the both of you at the movies, it’s a casual idea and he thought it would be a good way to just be able to sit next to you. But the only available movies in theaters were…not really romantic. They’re anything but romantic and he wasn’t so sure on inviting you to a movie about a talking blue hedgehog.

Making an album full of photos containing you was a good idea at first, but he realized that he had none of himself to pair with yours. He had only taken photos of you during school on his digital camera or phone, but only of you. He never took any of himself because he isn’t the most handsome guy. Also, whenever you would want to take a photo with him, the closeness of the both of you would make him blush and love around. Ruining the photo and him cropping himself out of it. He would never delete them though. You’re very photogenic and whatever picture he took of you came out amazing, but if he was in it… it would become blurred or it the camera had caught him making a weird face. While he would love another album full of your smiles, he knew that you wouldn’t really want an album full of just you without any friends or family.

Bringing you to a nice dinner was another, but he wasn’t sure on what restaurant to go to. Taking you to the local lookout to see the stars with you under the night sky was a close one. But when he had checked the weather forecast for the 14th, it was going to be too cloudy. Whatever idea he came up with, every single one of them had a flaw. So, he came up with a plan. Not wanting you to suspect him of anything. Yuuto decided to help out with the school’s Valentine’s day event to figure out the best gift for you.

——————————–

Walking into school, you sigh at the sight of the various red, pink, and white decorations that cover the halls. It’s your senior year and you’re still single. Hanging your head down low, you trudge across the floor. Where ever you look, students are carrying balloons, roses, stuffed animals, and even one kid is carrying around a giant poster with a blowed up picture of some girl.

As you go over to your locker, a small red card with the words “Happy Valentine’s day!” is scribbled across it, but you’re unfazed by it for how all the other lockers around you have the exact same card or something similar taped to their lockers. The same thing happens every year and you know this because it’s your senior year in high school. You experienced the same thing every Valentine’s Day and you even used to help out the student council by making some. cards for students.

Taking the piece of paper, you open it up to find it containing a valentines pun. It’s not really special so you toss it into your locker and you notice how empty it is. A gasp comes from your right, shifting your eyes to the right, a girl that looks to be younger than you has her hands up to her mouth.

A pile of cards is stacked inside her locker and a couple fall out from how unstable the stack it. A small pang of pain hits your heart as you envy her. Not because she got a lot of cards-well yes that’s one of the reasons, but also because of how she also received cards from her friends. As she closes her locker, you can see that it’s decorated with small post-it notes with cute small messages signed from her friends.

“Happy Valentine’s Day stinky >:)” and “You’re my butter half” with a drawing of a stick of butter cut in two are just a couple of the things you see on her locker. You find it sweet that her friends did that for her and it doesn’t mean that you don’t have friends. You just know that they’re lazy about doing stuff for the holiday, but it would’ve been nice to at least have a greeting from them. But you didn’t prepare anything special either so you can’t really complain.

You take your notebooks out for your classes for the day. When you close your locker, you turn to leave but you abruptly bump your head into a pink mass. Taking a step back, you rub your forehead to soothe the sore area. The thing, animal, or whoever it is waves their hands frantically. Trying to figure out whoever is in front of you. You take a step back to fully see who it is since they’re taller than you.

“Ha?” You furrow your brows at the thing before you. Someone dressed up in a pink bear suit holding heart shaped balloons.

The person tenses up and gives you a robotic wave. They seem nervous.

You wave back to them and excuse yourself as you awkwardly walk around them to go to your first class. While you focus on making your way through the obstacles of couples standing annoyingly in the middle of the hallway, the pink mascot watches you leave their vision.

Throughout the rest of the day, something strange keeps happening to you. Where ever you go, you would find that same pink bear. When you went to your first period. It was there to help with someone confessing their love by holding up a sign as a guy gave his crush a bouquet of roses. In your second period, it was handing out valentine’s day cards from anonymous senders addressed to their valentine’s. During your free period, you would find it peeking behind the corner and you could clearly see it. Everyone could, but some people would run up to it asking for its assistance in summing up the courage to confess to their special someone. While you were walking to your next class orto the bathroom, you could see it being dragged around the school. But every single time, it would always be looking at you.

When lunch came, you found out that that the bear was actually something the student council came up with. A mascot for the holiday to help promote events and students to express their feelings. Anyone could send in a request to ask for help from the pink friend. Some teachers who are married even had its help in sending gifts to their partners on the other side of the campus or to the office. You think I it’s a cute idea, but you’re more curious about who would take up such a role.

Running around the school in a big pink suit must be exhausting and it seems like only the same person is wearing the suit. Maybe one of the more athletic kids are doing it? They would be better suited to do such a thing, but you’re just guessing. It’s not one of the janitors since you could clearly see them going around the school fixing up decorations and brushing away excess confetti and trash littering the hallways. The members in the student council are certainly not it because they’re too busy doing the requests and there’s not that much for them. You do have hunch though as to whom it might be. You haven’t seen any of your close friends and you know that o e of them has a crush on one of the SC members. So you have a feeling that they might’ve offered their help. Which is nice of them, but it left you alone during lunch since your other friends seem to be missing as well.

——————————–

As everyone rushes to get home, you put away your things in your locker. While the day had been hectic, it was interesting to see the different surprises everyone did. Though you just wished that someone would’ve at least greeted you. Some teachers did, but they don’t count in your book.

Slamming your locker shut, you’re about to head out to leave but you once again find the pink mascot peeking over a corner while facing your direction. But instead of ducking out of view from you, they signal you to come closer. Feeling bored, you do so and walk over to it. They offer you their hand or paw, you aren’t sure since it looks just like a big mitten but you take it. As you’re led away, you’re taken to small random destinations throughout the school. The first spot is your homeroom. No one is inside, but on your desk is a small pink rabbit plush with a red ribbon tied around its neck.

The person in the costume walks over to it and hands it to you. You take it and give it a small squeeze. Its soft plush fur rubs against your cheek and it’s pleasant to the touch. You admire how cute and huggable it is, but the bear offers you their paw again. Now with a small stuffed animal in your other hand, you take their paw again to be led to another place.

In the cafeteria you found a big heart shaped sign with sweet messages from your friends. Near the girl’s bathroom, you found a gift basket with face masks, shampoos, scented candles, and other toiletries for you to use. In the hallway in front of your locker, a bouquet of pink, red, and white roses and carnations laid waiting for you. Everywhere you went, something was waiting for you and with every gift. You’re surprised everytime with something different. Cards, more stuffed animals, keychains, chocolates, and other gifts were scattered around the school waiting for you.

In the areas that had more people, they would actually not touch the gifts because a member from the student council would watch over it until you and the bear arrived. At one point there were too many gifts so the person in the suit had to bring over a red wagon so your arms would be free from the various gifts you received.

The last place you were lead to was the roof, which made you really surprised since no one is really allowed on the roof except staff and the janitors when they need to throw back down stray volleyballs and baseballs for the sports teams.

While you’re carefully lead to the side of the building facing the open free area in the middle of your school, the bear faces towards you. They take off the head of the costume, and you can’t really tell who it is. Panting heavily from exhaustion with fogged up goggles, a white surgical mask, and messy white hair in all directions. You try to hold in your laughter as the person struggles to take off the equipment. Their hair bad gotten tangled to their goggles and you had to help free them, but they would try and still you for some reason.

You persist in trying to take if off of them while they stutter over how sweaty they are and how you’ll feel icky after touching their hair. But you do it anyway. As you take off the surgical mask, you can see their lips had gotten a dry. Telling them to wait a moment, you take out a chap stick you got in one of the gifts that you received and put it over their lips. You smile as you hear them nervously stutter out a small “Thank you” When you take off their goggles, you can see the red ruby eyes you love so much.

White strands of hair cling to Yuuto’s face as you help wipe off the sweat that accumulated underneath his bangs all the while as a deep blush scatters across his cheeks.

“Ah I’m so sorry (Y/N)…” Yuuto says, you brush a strand of his hear behind his ear as you wipe the side of his cheek with a clean napkin, “I didn’t expect that to happen and I was going to take off all that stuff before hand before bringing you up here but uhm, I forgot to do it earlier…”

“What’re you apologizing for? I don’t mind helping you at all especially since you’ve been running around school all day. Also,” you pinch his cheek slightly, “You need to rely on others more! You’re crazy for not taking any breaks! I even saw you help the janitors clean up that huge chocolate cake that someone dropped in the hallway!”

“B-But they needed my help…and I couldn’t take a break!”

You quick a brow at his statement, “Hm and why is that?”

With a small sigh, Yuuto takes off the mittens covering his hands. Taking a hold of yours into his, “I-I wanted to make this day special for you, but I couldn’t come up with the right surprise for you…so I asked the student council if they could help me with any ideas and they proposed that I should be the helper mascot on Valentines day to get some inspiration. I got carried away though and no one else could do it so…”

“You got stuck in helping out all day?”

He let’s out a small nervous laugh, “Yeah…but you know. You mean so much to me and…” his hold tightens a bit, “And I have so much love for you but there’s not enough ways that I can express just how much you’re always on my mind. So I ordered a bunch of gifts for you and your friends helped me out too! Each place we visited, are places I have found memories of you (Y/N).”

You feel a bit confused, “But we went went through the whole school.”

“Ah haha… that’s because I got carried away. Every time I see you, hear your voice, and feel your touch is special to me. That’s why I took you all around the school and I even got extra gifts for you for all the people that I helped…but I want you to know that, I love you (Y/N)! You always cloud up my thoughts and I can never stop thinking about you and I-”

Before Yuuto finishes his sentence, you plant a kiss on his lips. It was quick, but it was enough to leave the boy left in awe and you smile.

“I’m thankful that you think of me that way, but next time don’t overwork yourself okay?”

“O-Okay, I promise!”

Yuuto engulfs you into a hug and you almost stumble over. You laugh as you feel him nuzzle his face into your neck, but you’re startled by the sound of cheering from down below. Looking towards the opening area, you can see other people cheering and your friends int he center giving you a thumbs up. You can see that a bunch of them have their phones out. They recorded the whole thing…

You can feel your cheeks heat up as you hide your face into Yuuto’s shoulder from the crowd. You feel embarrassed that that the whole exchange was recorded, but you’re also happy that someone would go this far for you.

#yandere #yandere male #male yandere #writing #reader insert #x reader #my writing #oc #yuuto latham #my art

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taetaesbitch · 4 years

Text

My Secret K-pop Idol - Chapter 3 - Surprise!

Reader x Taehyung

Word Count: 2.3k

Contains: Fluff, Mild Smut

I felt that this gif perfectly conveys the Tae vibes in this chapter. Sorry it took me a while to write this, I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 3 - Surprise!

You struggle to open your eyes against the harsh light streaming in through a split in the curtain. Your head is pounding and you feel an aching soreness down between your legs. Groaning, you try to roll over to look at the digital clock on your nightstand, but feel a weight around your waist. Glancing down you notice an arm tightening around you. A male arm. An arm that belongs to the guy you were with last night. It all comes rushing back to you as you twist in his grasp to look at him. His dark hair is ruffled, his face relaxed. You remember those intense eyes that gazed at you so passionately last night. So dark and filled with promise. Blushing at the memory of those hands on you and smiling at the thought of his cute smile. Sighing, you move away to start your day. Struggling against him as he curls around you, but eventually escaping. His face scrunching in confusion. He mumbles low, as you tiptoe across your bedroom floor and towards the bathroom. You take a long hot shower, but his touch seems to be imprinted on your skin, you can’t stop thinking about the way he touched you. Rough. Tender. Urgent. Slow. One thing is certain… you will never be able to look at a strawberry the same way again.

Stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around your body, you glance at yourself in the mirror but take a double take. Inhaling sharply, you touch your neck and chest, decorated with dark purple bruises. Recalling the way he bit and sucked, you can’t help but clench your legs together at the thought. Drying and dressing you peek out of the bathroom, holding your breath anxiously, hoping he’s still asleep. But disappointment washes over you when you see an empty bed, with nothing but tangled sheets. Feeling like such an idiot, your shoulders cave in. It was just a one night stand. You go to sit on the edge of the bed, a note on the side catches your eye and you reach for it. A message scrawled on it:

Thankyou for an incredible night. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. I’m sorry to run out on you like this… but my manager is going to kill me. I am in soooo much trouble. I would like to see you again. Here’s my number.

Tae x

You can’t believe it. You squeal excitedly. Your heart doing somersaults and your belly full of butterflies. But they begin to fade. How would this work? You haven’t forgotten about those fangirls. Who is he really? If he’s that popular all you would gain is heartbreak. You set the paper back on the nightstand and carry on.

A few hours later you return to the note, phone in hand. Are you really going to do this? It can’t hurt. Right? Or can it? You groan in frustration and start dialling. A voice answers on the second ring. “Hello?” It’s his voice. Deep. Divine. “(Y/N)?” You hang up at the sound of your name on his lips. You can’t do this…

You have had three missed phone calls from his number over the next week, but you can’t bring yourself to pick up. You’re not ready. Today you start at your new job, assisting a band at Big Hit Entertainment. You’re excited and nervous. The emotions swirling around in you all morning, as you dress in a long grey pencil skirt, a lilac blouse and grey blazer, you’re careful to cover the slowly fading hickeys, making an accessory out of a small scarf. You enter the lobby, where the manager waits to greet you, you walk to an office and take a seat.

“So, Miss (Y/N), I see you’ve been an excellent assistant in the past and you come highly recommended.”

“Yes, I’m observant and thorough in ensuring that everything is in order and taken care of.” His smile grows as you list off other key aspects.

“I think you’ll fit in perfectly here, and I think BTS are a great match.” He claims. Your mind seems to blank, your mouth falling open slightly.

“B-BTS?” That name is well known, they are a highly established band, but you have never taken the time to research them. You have only heard one or two songs.

“Yes, is that a problem?” The manager raises an eyebrow. You recollect yourself.

“No, no not at all.” You smile politely, shocked but excited. He goes over your duties and hands you a schedule, “You will need to study this carefully and keep up.” He stands, “Well, it’s time to meet them,” He gestures for you to follow him, walking you to an elevator. An uneasy tingling begins up your spine. “The boys are looking forward to meeting you.” The elevator pings on the top floor, you both step off into a spacious open planned room. There are floor to ceiling windows, light hardwood floors and a colour scheme of white, black and gold furniture. Walls separate rooms, a kitchen sits off to the side and around it sits the band their backs to you as you approach, an incredibly nervous feeling washes over you. They all seem dressed in varied fashions. “Boys.” They all stand and turn. Your eyes connect with those glittering dark ones and my mouth falls open. His own lips part, eyes widening as you gape at each other, astonished. “This is your new assistant (Y/N).” A few of the others look slightly shocked by my appearance. You also remember them from the bar. You assume Taehyung has told them what happened and turn a shade of strawberry. Taehyung is the first to recover, straightening as he smirks and narrows his eyes, “I’m V, but you can call me Taehyung.” Damn him! Of course he is! You thought they all looked familiar! You knew you had a bad feeling! You nod and speak through a tight smile.

“It’s nice to meet you Taehyung.” He’s so smug as he smiles back at you. The others follow his lead.

“I’m J-hope! But you can call me Hobi!” He gives you a brilliant smile grabbing both your hands and nodding cheerfully. You instantly feel at ease and don’t recognise him from the club. “We are so happy to finally meet you!” He exclaims.

You laugh nervously and nod your head, “Likewise.”

Another one steps forward, he’s taller with pink hair and a cheeky smile, “I’m Jin.” He nods, you nod back, you don’t recognise him either. Jimin, Namjoon and Jungkook are next, all of whom seem to squint at you after their introductions, as if trying to figure out where they have seen you before. Your face flushes red and you panic inside. The last member steps forward, his face more serious than the others, but he gives a small smile as he speaks, “I’m Yoongi.” Your inner panic begins to calm as they finish and the manager says, “Now that you’re all introduced I’ll leave you to get to know each other better.” He turns to you, “I’ll be back in roughly an hour.” He faces the boys, “Behave.” With that he heads to the elevator, you watch him go, and as the doors slide shut, reality sets in. You’re in a room full of famous band members, one of which you had a one night stand with. Nothing to worry about. You turn towards the band members and come face to face with Taehyung. You yelp in surprise and jump back a step.

“Woah there (Y/N). He doesn’t bite.” Exclaims the one named Hobi. The irony in his words make you blush and Taehyung snaps his teeth together before smiling mischievously. You give him a pointed glare.

“How about we sit on the sofa? (Y/N) might feel more at ease, I can understand how this can be quite overwhelming.” States Jimin, a sympathetic smile on his face. The rest of the boys agree and turn towards the sofa, but you feel a presence behind you and a deep voice whispers, “You never called, I was looking forward to round two.” Taehyung’s comment makes you flush red and starts a throbbing between your legs. His chest presses into your back and you yelp as you feel his hand grasp your ass. You spring away, turning towards him just in time to see his smirk and the devilish glint in his eyes. Rushing over to a sofa, you sit on the one opposite band, who has now settled themselves on. Jungkook seems deep in thought as he gazes at you, Namjoon clears his throat.

“So, you’ll be spending a lot of time with us and it’s vital that you understand that this career is our life, I hope you settle in well and with time you’ll learn our ways.” They all smile reassuringly, except for Jungkook, who seems deep in thought as he stares at you.

“I understand and I will do my absolute best to make sure your needs are met.” Taehyung catches your eye and he winks, causing you to clench your hands into fists. You can’t focus properly with the intense sexual look in his eyes. The man is killing you. He’s so smug and feigning innocence, but you know the truth.

He rests his chin on his fist lazily, tilting his head. You want to run your hands through his hair so badly, to straddle him and kiss him roughly. You snap out of it as they begin to ask you questions; what music you like, how your friends would describe you. You also ask them questions and they tell you certain things about themselves. You’re getting on well, but both Taehyung and Jungkook have been awfully quiet.

Suddenly, Jungkook bursts out. “Ah Ha!” Startled, the rest of the group look towards him. Jungkook’s eyes are wide and excited as he looks at you, “You were at the bar the other night.” You squeeze your eyes shut and sigh. When you open them, the other members are looking at you with realization, but Hobi, Yoongi and Jin wear confused expressions. Jungkook continues, “You’re the one Tae--” He cuts off coughing as he catches Taehyung's threatening expression.

“Hold up.” Hobi demands, “What is going on here?”

“Do you remember when we went out last week, but you stayed in?” Asks Jungkook, Hobi nods, “Well we met (Y/N), and she helped Tae escape some Army’s. She’s the one that-” you see Taehyung physically nudge Jungkook this time and he stops mid sentence, but Hobi continues.

“Oh! You mean your the one he-”

“Hoseok!” Taehyung warns. By this point your head is in your hands. How can this be happening?

“What are those?” Namjoon speaks up, you lift your head, only to find them all staring at your neck. Your scarf seems to have slipped, leaving your neck and the bruises exposed. You gasp and quickly cover them, but it’s too late. “Kim Taehyung.” Namjoon glares at Taehyung disapprovingly. A look of embarrassment crosses his face, giving you a moment of satisfaction before admiring such a cute look. He catches you looking and smirks.

“I don’t regret it, (Y/N) enjoyed it didn’t you?” Your eyes widen at his question.

“I-I-you-” You’re a stuttering mess. A satisfactory smirk crosses his lips.

“Taehyung, stop teasing (Y/N),” Jin stands and grabs your hands, walking you towards the kitchen area, away from the others. “Are you ok? Would you like a drink?” He smiles at you, his eyes are warm and friendly.

“Y-yes please. Just some water?”

“Sure.” He spins to grab a bottle from the fridge, you hear whispers from behind you and look over to see the other members huddled around Taehyung, interrogating him. “Don’t mind them. We can all be a bit much sometimes.” He hands you the water and leans on the counter, as you gulp the water down, “So what did happen between you and Taehyung?” You nearly choke on the water, but manage to contain yourself.

“Um-well, it’s kind of personal.” Jin is grinning, but not at you you realise too late.

A voice whispers in your ear, “Didn’t you bring any strawberries?” His arms wrap around you so that you can’t move away.

“Taehyung. Let go of me.” You meet Jin’s eyes and silently plead with him to help you, but he just gives you a pitying look and returns to the sofa. Just Taehyung’s presence is making your legs feel weak. He plants his chin at the place where your shoulder and neck meet, and breathes in deep.

“What happened to calling me Tae?” You try to step out of his grip, but he holds you tight, “Why didn’t you call?” He sounds hurt and you sigh.

“I’m sorry, but I thought it would be for the best, considering the girls who chased you and especially with these new circumstances.” His grip loosens and you step out of his grasp, spinning to face him. He covers a wounded look with one of indifference, before moving to the fridge. He pulls out a punnet of strawberries and the memories come crashing back like a tsunami. He plucks one from the punnet and places it to his lips, leaning on the counter as he sucks on it sensually, never breaking eye contact with you. Your mouth dries up and you fight the urge to clench your legs together. When he’s finished he asks mockingly, “Would you like a strawberry?” You stare breathlessly, as amusement dances in his tempting eyes. Just then the elevator pings. You spin as the manager walks back in.

“I hope you have enjoyed your time (Y/N), but it’s time for their rehearsals.” He smiles and you nod in compliance, saying goodbye to the boys as you walk back to the elevator. As the manager presses the button, Taehyung remarks, “We look forward to seeing more of you (Y/N).”

You see him lick his lower lip and smirk, before the elevator doors slide closed.

You can’t help but feel like you’ve just made a deal with the devil.

#BTS #BTS V #BTS Taehyung #BTS Fanfic #BTS V Fanfic #BTS Taehyung Fanfic #Kim Taehyung Fanfic #Kim Taehyung Mild Smut #Fluff #BTS Fluff #BTS Taehyung Fluff #BTS V Mild Smut #BTS Taehyung Mild Smut

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rex101111 · 5 years

Note

aaaaaand 💌 with namine and xion

Xion stared at pure, blinding white, an infinite expanse of blank space stretching on longer and longer the more she looked.

It’s oblivion made manifest, a void of meaning and significance, a square of nothing that drew her mind and eyes to it so and made her a meaningless, mindless prop of a person.

It was supposed to be a God damned love letter, but it insisted to be a blank piece of A4 paper, mocking her with it’s sheer white facade and insulting her deepest heart’s desire to just-

“Break.” She muttered with bloodshot eyes in a voice filled with sudden horror, “I should take a break.”

She put down her pencil, pushed her chair back and rubbed circles on her temple. She’d sat down over an hour ago, and her progress was evident by the large pile of crumpled paper to her left that, presumably, hid a small waste basket somewhere near the bottom.

It needed to be just right, every word needed to be just right, every phrase and every punctuation mark had to be just where it needed to be because the person she was writing for deserved no less.

Her cheeks felt warm just thinking of her golden hair and radiant smile, how she bit her upper lip as she concentrated on her artwork, her laugh that floated and bounced around the air, she was perfect.

“...now why the hell am I having so much trouble writing that down?”

Xion dragged herself back to her empty page, grabbing her pencil with a renewed sense of purpose...which led absolutely nowhere.

Yesterday she had spent a whole day in Radiant Garden with Namine, shopping and eating ice cream and watching her draw flowers when Xion had a sudden, earth shattering revelation.

She was in love, utterly smitten with her blond friend. This was a moment of supreme happiness for her...until she realized she would probably have to do something with those feelings, probably tell Namine about them.

The thought itself was enough to cause immense panic and make a lame excuse to Namine to be able to run off back home and try and formulate a plan about how she would tell Namine about how she felt without melting into a puddle of goo just by sitting next to her.

After a few hours of mulling over strategies with a clueless Roxas and a smug Lea (who had apparently won some sort of bet involving her crush on Namine and so was impossibly even more smug than usual), crying about how she would never confess her feelings on account of being a coward, and then sleeping on it (thus having a dream about Namine that she will take with her to the grave), she finally had a solution.

If she could not say what she felt, she would write it!

Brilliant!

Except for the fact that she had no idea where to even begin.

She got as far as sitting in a chair next to a writing desk with paper and a pencil, and was now stuck in that horrible limbo of having an idea tap dance in you hard with cement shoes, demanding to be heard and seen, but unable to form it on paper in a way that was good enough to be read by anyone with eyes.

She put the pencil down again, resting her forehead on the desk with a sorrowful moan, thinking she might want to reschedule this panic attack disguised as a writing session for another day when her mind wasn’t complete garbage.

And then she felt a large hand grip her shoulder, a gruff voice, almost like a growl, following suit, “Xion, are you alright?”

She raised her head from her empty page to see Isa, staring grimly at her with his own stern version of concern, and managed to stomp down her gut instinct to cower from eyes that weren’t glowing yellow anymore to smile tiredly at him, “I’m fine, really...just having a bit of...writer’s block.”

“Ah, you’re love letter.” He nodded sharply, an understanding hum rumbling in his throat, “yes Lea did mention you locking yourself in here in hopes of putting your emotions on paper.”

Xion sighed deeply and sagged in her chair, “Yeah, well apparently being a pseudo-Nobody for a while might have had some negative effects on me because I can’t seem to do that.”

Isa rubbed his chin thoughtfully, looking between Xion and the blank page, “do you know how you feel about her?”

“I love her.” She says, certainly, an edge of steel in her voice. She’s gotten very attached to her heart for the short time she’s had it, she had no intention of ignoring it or misunderstanding it. Speaking it to her? That was the problem, she had no issue knowing her heart as deeply as she could, “I love everything about her, she makes me happy just being with her, she makes this life I’ve gotten...worthy, like there’s something I could do with it if I can make her as happy as she makes me.”

Isa was quiet for a moment, waiting for her to finish, before nodding shortly again, “well then, perhaps you’re overthinking this?”

“It needs to be perfect Isa, this letter needs to say exactly what I feel,” She looked down at the paper again, biting her lower lip, “she deserves nothing less than my best...”

“Is your best perfect?” Isa asks directly, he waits for her to look at him before he continues, “consider who you’re writing this for, if Namine cares for you half as much as you do for her, what would she want to hear from you?”

Xion didn’t say anything for a long moment, blinking as things clicked into place in her head, her lips tilting up at the edges, “she’d...want me to be honest with her...” she looked back on her blank page, “...I can do that, I can manage honest.”

“Good, try that then.”

“....can I say how weird it is to hear you giving me advice? Considering our history?”

“Less talking more writing, you mumbling in here is starting to make Lea and Roxas nervous.”

She laughed, and turned to her desk one last time, her grip on her pencil sure and certain.

She put pencil to paper, and words flowed like water, a flood of thoughts staining the pure white with bold black and filling it with meaning, washing it with her feelings and all she wanted to say.

When she looked up, she had written down everything she wanted Namine to know, and now all she needed to do was...give it...to...her....

“Oh no...”

A sigh from above her, “would you like me to-”

She shoved the letter in an envelope, closed it, drew a simple heart on the face of it, and presented it to the large man next to her, “please.”

-|-_-|-

Dear Namine,

A day ago I ran off while we were having a good time without explaining myself, and I want to clear the air, and tell you a few things you need to know.

While we were walking through the flower gardens, you smiled at me. That smile was why I ran off like I did. You smiled at me a thousand times before, and every time you did I could feel my chest fill up with fire and a want for you to never stop smiling like that.

But, that day, something else happened. Something clicked in my head, the whole day started arranging itself in my heart in a way that made a few things very clear to me in a way they weren’t before.

Everything you did yesterday made my heart pound, every little word you told me made me blush and nervous, every time I glanced at you I could see the sun shining through your hair and the sky in your eyes and I realized something all at once I should have known from the moment we met.

I love you. I love you so much it overwhelmed me completely, I could think of nothing else besides this revelation, it filled my heart and my head with so much noise I needed to gain some distance so I could figure out how to tell you because being so near you was like flying up to the sun and trying not to burn to ashes.

I always had a hard time just...talking to people, words always fail me when in the moment, and these words could not fail me, because the words I’m writing down to confess this to you are the most important things I ever had to convey to another person.

I don’t want to force you into this, this is just me being as honest as I can possibly be, and you deserve nothing less than my absolute honesty.

If you don’t feel the same...I’ll live, I’ll live and move on and be your friend, like I’ve always been.

But, if you feel the same for me as I feel for you...meet me on the clock tower in twilight town tomorrow evening, I’ll be waiting for you, with my heart in my hands so I could give it to you...though you already stole it the day we met.

With love,

Xion.

-|-_-|-

Xion sat on the porch of the clock tower with a heavy feeling of dread, the time of her meeting with Namine slowly creeping up on her. That feeling only growing heavier as she remembered the letter Isa had given her when he got back from delivering her love confession.

“Namine had her own words for you, she said to read it when you get to the clock tower.”

Which, of course, did nothing to assuage her anxiety, not knowing what Namine could possibly have to say to her before meeting her. Perhaps a gentle rejection to soften the blow before she did it in person? Or maybe a request to forever leave her alone?

She was panicking again, and she sighed with the resolution to just get it over with, remembering her promise to honor whatever Namine felt in turn, she opened the envelope, and found two pieces of paper inside.

With some sense of dread and anticipation, she started reading;

Dear Xion,

Before I meet you at the clock tower, I want to tell you something in this letter.

Words tend to fail me too, though I can’t really write either, at least not half as wonderfully as you wrote to me.

For me, pictures always helped me speak more freely than anything.

So, here’s a picture that might be able to tell you half of what I feel for you.

Seeing you soon,

Namine.

Xion gulped loudly, putting the letter down and looking at the picture Namine had drawn for her and included with her letter, her face burning like someone poured gasoline on her.

It was the two of them, Namine and Xion, viewed from the back, standing in front of a sprawling expanse of flowers, their hands hanging tightly onto each other, fingers intertwined.

“Hey.”

She looked up, a few tears falling down her smiling face as she saw Namine sit down next to her, laughing wetly, “hey yourself.”

Namine looked down and giggled quietly when she saw her drawing in Xion’s grip, “so...did you get my message?”

Xion put the two pages down, and held her Namine’s face in her hands, and placed her lips with a feather light kiss.

As the kiss deepened, the sun shined down in front of them, the red glow of the dying light washing over them in a silent blanket of orange embers.

#kingdom hearts #Namishi #at least I think that's the ship name...#Namine #Xion #MAN THIS WAS FUN #hope you like it!#imbeccablee #answers

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another-blog-bites-the-dust · 5 years

Text

Masterpiece.

Summary: While creating a piece of art for a gallery, Brian knows that you are the real masterpiece.

Warnings: Here be SMUT! Nothing too crazy but there is paint involved. Fingering, unprotected sex (pleaseeeee use a condom) swearing, some dirty talk. Do not read if you're under 18!

A/N: Just some soft, cute, messy, fluffy smut with Brian who is a literal walking piece of art. I hope you enjoy! 💖

You and Brian naturally connected and clicked through how creative you both were- you being an artist and him being a guitarist.

He'd sit for hours on end posing for you while you drew or painted him and you'd listen to countless of chords he played and lyrics that he sung.

Right now you were in your flat that you often shared with him staring at a blank canvas- your mind just as bare as you tried to conjure up a creation. A gallery had asked you to take part in a exhibition, the theme was love. You had a lot of it in your life but you weren't sure how to convey something so intimate and personal to you.

Your bedroom had transformed into your studio over the years- as well as the rest of the flat. Paints, brushes, palettes, pencils and pens were scattered practically everywhere and your work was kissing the walls. Brian loved your work- it was actually how the two of you first met.

He spotted you taking one of your paintings to Freddie and Roger's stall in Kensington. Fred always gushed how much of a fan he was of your work and how well it sold. You had arrived with a piece you had mentally had named as 'A view from earth'. It transformed from light blue to black with a lit up London at the bottom as the city accepted the fact that night was fast approaching. You were looking up to the sky above and painted what you could see of space from your back garden. The canvas was filled with little bursts of white, yellow, lilac and red paint to represent stars.

Brian saw it and almost audibly gasped at how stunning it was. "Surely you aren't just giving it to them?" He asked. You had only heard Brian's named mentioned every now and then but hadn't physically met him until you saw him at the stall.

You shrugged a shoulder "Why not? We split the money when it's sold."

"Yeah but," Brian motioned at it wildly and passionately "This should be in the National Gallery or the V&A!" Your expression softened and your smile spread from ear to ear.

"You think so?" You asked in a small voice, you had praise before but the way Brian spoke about your work made your heart skip a beat.

"Yeah!" He grinned, now looking more at you than the painting "It's...beautiful." Although, he wasn't really referencing your painting at this point. He snapped back into reality "How much for it? I'd like it. £300?" You, Roger and Freddie all went wide-eyed.

"Yes!" Roger went to take the money from Brian's hand but you were quick to swat his hand away.

"No!" You glared at Roger before turning to Brian. "For you it's free."

The three boys looked at you as if you had grown a second head. "No, no, no! You've got to take something for it. It's incredible!"

You looked to the painting and then to Brian, a smirk forming on your face. "Alright then how about this- I give you the painting and you take me on a date." Brian could never refuse that offer.

"Deal."

Back in your bedroom, you moved the canvas to different places. If you moved it to a spot where the light was different or spotted something, you were hoping to get some inspiration. You placed the canvas on the floor and sighed before sitting beside it then putting your head in your hands. You didn't even hear the front door open but you soon heard Brian call out for you. "In the bedroom, Bri!"

"Hey, you okay?" He asked, shaking off his jacket. He could smell fresh paint and spotted a new flower painting drying in the corner.

You looked up and sighed before lying down on the floor. "Just stuck."

'Just stuck' were two words Brian dreaded to hear you utter. Sometimes you'd be up all night trying to find some inspiration and Brian would always worry that you were going to burn yourself out. He looked between you and the blank canvas on the bed. "What's the subject?"

"Love." You simplistically replied. "For the gallery exhibition."

Brian walked over and lay down beside you "What are you thinking?" He turned his head to look at you.

You mirrored his action and smiled. "Everything." You whispered "Especially when I look at you." Brian blushed and gently pecked your lips. "That's why it's so difficult to think of something to paint- there's too much going on in my head and I'm finding myself drawing a blank." You sat up and ran a hand through your hair, you had bits of dried paint stuck to your skin. Bringing your knees up to your chest, you wrapped your arms around them and looked down to Brian. "How was your day?"

"Better now that I'm beside you." He boyishly smirked and you playfully rolled your eyes. "I can see you thinking..." he whispered while his hands found themselves rubbing soothing circles over your tense back. He was still lying on the floor "Do you want to paint it out on me before using the canvas?"

As soon as he asked you nodded with a thankful grin. Brian was your biggest inspiration. His smile, his eyes, his nature, his amazement and wonder for space and everything beyond always lit a fire of inspiration inside you. He was more than happy to let you paint out an idea on him before your brush touched canvas.

So he was your canvas. Or rather, his bare back became your canvas.

He sat up and took his top off and grabbed a pillow while you grabbed your supplies. He lay face down on the floor and you sat crosslegged beside him. You passed him a hair bobble so you wouldn't get any paint in his hair- it was always a beautifully odd sight seeing him with his hair tied back. He gasped feeling a stroke of cold paint touch his back. He turned his head to watch you. Watch each intricate eyebrow crease and raise or see an idea burst in your head that would soon make an expression on your face. You were a moving piece of art in his eyes.

A masterpiece.

He watched you bob your head back and forth before you stroked the brush right down the centre of his back. Brian couldn't help but let out a relaxed moan- it was like he was getting a massage. "Feel good?"

"You always make me feel good," he murmured with shut eyes. Brian was in a blissful bubble- it was pure relaxation. "Can I get a kiss?" He asked.

You had done a fair amount on his back, a mix of bold reds and pinks and yellow- as well as a few other colours. You put down your brush and Brian raised his head a little to meet you halfway. You grinned and cupped his face with paint kissed fingers, smearing a little on his face by accident. That only encouraged Brian to deepen the kiss, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip like a brush against a canvas. As soon as his tongue slipped into your mouth you let out a soft moan. Brian reached down and gripped your hip before gently pushing you to lie down. You lay down allowing him to get on top of you and making the passionate kiss even more wild.

Brian tugged at your jumper and you put your arms above your head so he could pull it off. He kept his eyes locked with yours, freckles of paint were scattered over your cheeks and noise. He groaned at your bare torso "No bra?" He said almost teasingly. "So beautiful..." he murmured kissing down your neck and your breastbone before twirling his tongue over your nipple and pressing open kisses to your breasts. You moaned and arched your back, silently encouraging him to continue- which he did. Brian grabbed a handful and almost whimpered in delight at the noises you were making.

Brian's lips found yours again before he sat up on his knees, then standing and pulling you up off the floor. He cupped your face and pressed delicate kisses over your lips and cheeks. "Brian," you sweetly murmured with a growing grin "I need you."

"I'm all yours, Y/N." He passionately locked lips with you and fell onto your crisp, white linen bedsheets. In the moment of heat, you completely forgotten about his painted back. You pulled back to catch your breath and stood up, peeling off your jeans and underwear. No matter how many times Brian saw you stripped bare, it always took his breath away. Brian sat up and traced the very tips of his fingers over your thighs and then over your hips and up to your waist. "You are a masterpiece." Brian was in a trance but managed to let you know that fact in soft and sincere tone.

You blushed and walked forward to hug him, his face was pressed against your stomach. You saw the bedsheets and sighed under your breath, but that didn't matter right now. So what if your night was going to get a little messy?

You gasped and gripped his shoulders tightly feeling his fingers brush against your clit. You looked down and Brian looked up with a devilish smirk and slipped two fingers inside you and began to pump them in and out almost teasingly before he picked up his pace. Your face contorted as a wave of pure pleasure washed over you "Bri..." you moaned and felt your knees go weak.

He supported you by wrapping an arm around the back of your thighs "You're soaking, baby. Tell me what you want, tell me what you need." His gravelly voice sent a chill through your whole body.

You gasped, little bursts of oxygen quickly flew in and out of your lungs. "You Brian! I need you!" You moaned and looked down, managing to cup his yellow and red painted face. "I don't want to cum just yet...mhmm want you to be inside me."

Brian loudly moaned and slowly removed his fingers from you, drawing a long gasp and groan from you. "God, that's so fucking hot, baby. Okay. You want me- you got me." You stood back a little and Brian stood up, expertly taking off his belt and jeans with one hand while sucking off the remnants of you on his fingers on the other hand. "You taste so good." He smirked and kissed you, brushing his tongue against yours so you could have a taste.

You moved to lie down on the bed, Brian followed you with his eyes before gasping. You turned your head hearing his sudden burst of shock. "What? What is it?"

"Your bed! I've got paint all over it!" He pointed to it and you smiled.

"It's alright, Bri!" You reassured "Anyway, afterwards we can have a shower together..." you winked and in a blink of an eye, Brian had pulled his boxers off and pounced on you. Paint was getting absolutely everywhere. It was on both your arms, Brian's chest, your hip, in yours and Brian's hair- despite you tying it back. The sheer volume of his hair made the bobble snap and was now somewhere on your floor.

There was so much paint you were both convinced that soon there wouldn't be an inch of skin that wasn't spattered with the stuff. Your both giggled, Brian tried to hold you but you kept slipping out of his grasp.

Brian's laughter fizzled down while you continued to laugh. He was looking at the finest piece of art ever created. You.

"You are so beautiful," he pressed his lips to yours and managed to hold your hip before completely sheathing himself inside you. You were taking off guard slightly feeling him completely fill you up and loudly moaned right into his mouth. "The noises that leave those pretty lips of yours drive me fucking insane!" He growled and buckled his hips forcefully, your legs completely turned into jelly as your arms clung to Brian's back for dear life. "I hope I'm inspiring you," he cockily smirked.

"Yes! Fuck! Bri, baby! You are!" You moaned and let a string of curses fly out of your mouth when his pace picked up. He looked down on you almost hungrily, as if he'd never be satisfied until he had you crying out his name while cumming on his cock.

"What do you want, Y/N? Fucking tell me how good I make you feel!" He roughly kissed you, the paint colours swirling and merging together as you both rolled around in the bed.

"S-so good Brian! God!" You roughly groaned "Can I cum? Please?" You said, albeit very softly as all the air was vacant from your lungs and replaced with sheer bliss.

"Course you can, baby." He kissed you and cupped your cheek, longingly looking into your eyes. "Cum for me, let it all go." One of your legs wrapped itself around Brian's thighs while he held onto the thigh of your other leg as he drew an orgasm from you. Your whole body trembled under him as he fucked you through your high, his name loudly leaving your mouth.

You desperately caught your breath just as Brian stopped moving his hips. Tiredly grinning, you tucked some of his hair behind his ear. "Let me ride you," you murmured and softly kissed his lips, your fingers now resting just under his jawline.

"You're tired. I'm alright, honestly." He assured but he was still rock hard.

"Brian," you didn't have to push him that hard to get him onto his back. You straddled his legs, he could feel the heat and wetness radiating from you on his thighs- it just turned him on even more. "Do you want me to ride you? Do you want to cum all over me?" You asked, innocently batting your eyelashes.

He groaned and tightly swallowed "G-god y-yes!" His words trembled out his mouth. You took his length in one hand and guided him back into your dripping pussy. "F-fuck! Fucking hell!" He moaned in pure ecstasy while his head sunk deep into the sheets- but not as deep as he was inside you.

You leaned down and pulled his hair a little to expose more of his neck, letting your teeth sink into his sensitive skin, leaving a mark there to remind him tomorrow morning of what was happening right now. He sounded melodic. You wish you had every little sound and whine that left his mouth on a vinyl record to play to your hearts content. You sat back up and Brian dug his fingers into your hips, his own were thrusting into you and the sound of moaning and slapping skin was getting too much for Brian. "Bri...fuck!" You gasped.

"I'm so close...so close! Fuck!" His eyes screwed shut and his mouth made an 'O' shape as a heavenly scream left his mouth. He pulled out and streams of white hit against your painted skin- only adding to the messy masterpiece. The sound of heavy breathing filled the room and the smell of paint and sex lingered in the space the four walls had created around you. You smiled down at Brian. He was like a newly painted piece of artwork. "Shower?" He suggested with paint all over his face, strands of bubblegum pink in his dark hair.

"Most definitely!" You giggled and helped him up. Brian hugged you from behind as you made your way to your bathroom. You got into the shower together, helping each other get bits of paint off the places you couldn't reach and tenderly rubbing each other's worn out muscles. While Brian was religiously washing the paint out of his luscious locks, you wrapped yourself up in a fuzzy dressing gown and made yoursef and Brian some tea.

You took the cups back to your bedroom, you were going to make an attempt to clean up the mess the two of you had made. You placed down the cups and turned to the bed, raising a curious brow seeing the messy masterpiece on your linen. Brian walked through drying his hair with a towel while another rested on his hips. "Sorry about the bedsheets...I'll buy new-"

"No." You cut him off, still staring at the explosion of colour. "No...that's it." You whispered with a growing smile before looking up to a confused Brian. "I love it."

"What?" He crinkled his nose. "Messy, paint stained bedsheets?"

You shook your head and quickly unbuttoned the sheets from the duvet- which was just as stained- and put it over the canvas, creating a piece of art. "My piece on love! This is it!" You motioned at the sheet the two of you just had sex on that was now covering your blank canvas. It was dawning on Brian that you were going to let everyone see your sinned and stained bedsheets as part of an exhibition being held in the middle of a museum.

"Why?" He asked, not quite understanding the concept yet.

"Because that's what love is to me and to us! Hell! To anyone!" You passionately exclaimed. "Love is messy and unpredictable and things merging together!" You gestured your hands at the paint soaked sheets. Brian felt his heart wildly flutter. "It's untameable, unpredictable, it's something you can't imagine because it just happens!" You lightly chuckled. "It's chaotic, funny, something that you tilt your head back and forth from side to side at while looking at it in wonder! It makes you smile, brings tears to your eyes! It makes you feel every emotion and others that you didn't even know existed inside of you. It's...It's...beautiful." You looked over at Brian who had tears in his eyes. "Nothing short of a masterpiece."

"Just like the woman who created it," Brian kissed you while admiring the work.

"And the man who helped me create it...who inspired me." You smirked and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck while Brian's wrapped around your waist, picking you up a little off the floor.

"Truly a unique piece of art..." Brian winked.

You looked at it again "Nothing but pure, raw, passionate love."

•••

"What's the piece called?" Roger asked, squinting his eyes at the piece of art on the wall.

"'The mess caused by love'," you smiled and looked at Brian who had a soft smile on his face. "What do you think?" Roger, along with Freddie, Jim and John all murmured positively. They had came along to support you on the opening night of the exhibition at the museum.

"I think it's amazing," Brian leaned down and perched his chin on your shoulder before you turned and shared a small kiss.

"Y/N!" George, the artistic director and curator of the exhibition, approached you. Brian stood back a little so you could give the man a quick hug. "Marvellous piece! It's one of the best I've seen! It's simply exquisite!" He gushed. "How did you get the inspiration for this marvellous work of art?"

You and Brian both glanced at each other "Well it just really...came to me." Brian had to turn away and restrain himself from bursting into a fit of giggles at your appropriate yet inappropriate pun.

"Well I absolutely love it! Thank you for taking part! I'll see you later!" George waved and left to speak to more artists, the boys disappeared to look at the rest of the exhibition.

Brian wrapped his arm around your shoulders "Very funny," he smirked and kissed your forehead. He then looked up to your sheet on the canvas on the wall. The sheet that he had slept on countless of times. The sheet that he had tickled you on. The sheet that he had made love to you on...multiple times. The sheet where he held you in his arms after a rough day. To the world it was a piece of colourful art- people could interpret it however they wanted. But to you and Brian, it was so much more. "You know, that's a work of art..." Brian turned to you and you looked up to meet his gaze. "But you, Y/N Y/L/N, are a masterpiece."

———————–————

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queenslasharchive · 6 years

Text

When You Wish Upon A Star

For @nobutseriouslywhat. Happy Holidays! Hope you enjoy.

If your heart is in your dream No request is too extreme When you wish upon a star As dreamers do Fate is kind

They closed the stall for the night over an hour ago. Roger had been the one to bring out the vodka from the back room. They clinked their glasses in celebration of a successful holiday season. Conversation flitted back and forth between the band and school, and with each minute that passed, the two men became more and more inebriated.

Eventually, Roger had the right amount of alcohol in his system to become loose-lipped enough to ask his friend the question that had been bugging him for months.

“How do you know?” Roger asked vaguely, his speech slurred and cheeks rosy from his drink.

“Know what, darling?” Freddie poured himself more vodka from the mostly-empty bottle.

“You know! How do you-” he gestured aimlessly, huffing in frustration. “How did you know you liked blokes?” he asked in a mumbling whisper.

Freddie stared at him for a moment, his blank expression giving nothing away. Through his booze-addled brain, Roger realized he may have crossed a line.

The blonde awkwardly tried to take back his question, “I’m sorry- I mean, I didn’t mean to assume, or anything-”

“No, no- it’s alright,” Freddie cut him off before he could begin to ramble. “I just- I didn’t know it was so obvious.”

“Oh,” said Roger. His face flushed red in embarrassment. “So- so you do like blokes? You’re gay?”

His friend nodded slowly, his eyes glancing to the floor. “Yes, I suppose I am, darling,” he answered before meeting Roger’s eyes. “Of course, it’s not something I want my parents to hear about- or my professors, for that matter.”

A small, tipsy chuckle burst from his lips. Roger found himself laughing along, trying to lighten the mood. He hadn’t intended to insight any awkwardness. All he wanted was an answer to his question.

Freddie looked into his drink with a contemplative expression on his handsome face.

The blonde cleared his throat, and repeated, “So … how did you know?”

The singer stalled by taking another sip of vodka and thought over his answer. “I went to an all-boys boarding school, my dear,” he said at last with a knowing smirk. “We were all desperately horny and with no one around to fuck but each other.”

For as promiscuous as he liked to present himself, the blunt wording caught Roger off-guard.

“Ah,” was all he could say in response.

The drummer took another swig of his drink to hide the blush creeping along his features. God forbid if Freddie knew he was growing flustered by the conversation- Roger would never hear the end of it.

“When my family moved here, I tried going out with a couple girls because it’s what I thought I should do, but-” Freddie shrugged- “It never felt right to me. I just wasn’t- I’m not into girls.”

He sent Roger an inquisitive look. “Why do you ask?”

The blonde stared at Freddie, momentarily dumbfounded by the question. Why did he ask? How was he supposed to respond to that? Oh, I was just curious- I’m not gay or anything. But that wasn’t the whole truth, was it?

Roger was a bad liar even when sober, and with three bottles of beer in his bloodstream, he was hopeless.

Instead of giving a straight answer, he took a swig from his bottle, refusing to make eye contact with Freddie. His silence was enough for the other man to know what it was that Roger refused to say.

“Ohhh,” he said once he realized. A smile grew across his lips. “Oh, Roger darling, who’s caught your eye?”

“No one,” Roger spat defensively, his face turning beat red.

“Uh-uh, don’t lie to me now, dear,” Freddie tutted, wagging his finger for emphasis. “There’s a reason you asked. What is it? Rather, who is it?

“I’m not telling you!” Roger exclaimed.

The blonde stood suddenly, swaying and stumbling over to the door. He had to get out of here. There was no way he could tell Freddie about his secret. The singer would keep bugging him until he made Roger confess to- to him. Roger couldn’t do that. He couldn’t risk losing what they already had.

“Oh come on, get back here!” Freddie yelled after him.

“No, you’re just gonna make fun of me!” Roger slurred, almost losing his balance when he spun around to face his friend.

“I would never, dear,” said Freddie.

“Yes you would! You would, you totally would.”

“Really, I wouldn’t,” he pressed, his tone turning serious. “Love is important, darling. I won’t tease you for loving.”

Roger paused at Freddie’s words. He sounded sincere. In that moment, his intoxicated brain forgot that this- being gay- was something he was supposed to be ignoring, denying about himself.

All he wanted to let out everything he’d been holding in for so long, and Freddie was his best friend. He wouldn’t betray him if he told. After all, Freddie was gay too, right? Friends didn’t out friends.

“I’m not telling you his name,” Roger decided. He ignored Freddie’s disappointed huff. “I just- I wanted to ask you about it- him. I’ve never felt like this for a guy- for anyone, actually- and I don’t know what to do. I don’t think he’s gay. Hell, I didn’t even think I was gay until he came along!”

“He must be quite the looker to make you question your sexuality,” his friend giggled and took a sip of his drink.

“Oh, come off it,” he said, punching Freddie’s shoulder in a familiar gesture, eliciting more giggles from the drunk man. “And yes, he is rather handsome.”

Freddie laid across the pillows of their ratty old couch, laughing softly to himself. He batted his eyes up at Roger teasingly.

“Tell me about him, lover-boy,” he murmured sleepily.

Roger smiled at his friend’s antics and returned to his seat on the couch. He allowed his mind to wander to his special someone.

Days spent arguing and bickering about this and that, pointless little things that didn’t really matter yet seemed so important in that moment. Going out together, whether it be to the movies or lunch or a bar. Just last week, he woke Roger up at one in the morning and dragged him outside to watch a meteor shower.

Watching Brian marvel at the shooting stars criss-crossing the night sky was one of the best moments of Roger’s life. He remembered how his hazel eyes sparkled in the pale moonlight, the excited smile plastered across his lips. Their breath came in puffs of steam in the cold winter air, yet Roger never felt the bitter chill past the warmth bubbling up in his heart.

The drummer let out a dreamy sigh. “He’s the best,” he began. “He’s got this way about him- everything he says is just amazing. He’s so smart and nice and I just- I love- I like everything about him,” he corrected himself quickly.

Roger wasn’t sure what he’d do if he admitted he was in love with Brian.

He glanced over to Freddie, nervous to see his friend’s reaction to his confession. Relief flooded through him when he saw the other man was smiling from ear to ear, gushing over Roger describing his crush.

“Sounds like you’re head over heels, darling,” said Freddie. When he saw the apprehensive look that overcame Roger’s expression at his comment, he added, “That’s not a bad thing, you know. Being in love is rather beautiful in my opinion.”

“I’m not-” Roger stopped himself before he could utter any nonsense about not having a giant crush.

“You are,” Freddie insisted. “You asked me how I knew I liked men? Well, this is how you know. You know who you like when you like them, darling.”

The blonde nodded, a little too drunk to understand completely, but getting the gist of Freddie’s advice.

“So I’m gay?” he asked for confirmation.

Freddie shook his head and said, “That’s up for you to decide. Do you think you’re gay?”

Roger thought for a moment, remembering everything he loved- liked about Brian.

“I-I don’t know. Maybe,” he decided, his tone conveying his uncertainty.

“And that’s alright, Roggie,” Freddie reassured him, and then sat up to meet his friend’s eyes properly. “Now, listen to me. I’m going to tell you something you’ve probably heard before, alright?”

Roger waited with bated breath, expecting Freddie’s next advice to be especially significant.

“You can be anything you want to be.“

The blonde let out a barking laugh. “Anything I want to be?” he repeated. “Who are you, my mum?”

“I’m serious! You can be anything you want!” Freddie pressed, clapping a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Hell, look at you right now! Look at us! We’re small business owners, my dear. Entrepreneurs!”

“Our stall is rubbish and you know it, Fred,” Roger said.

“Nonsense, people buy stuff from us, don’t they?” said the singer. “Look, here’s my point: if think you’re into men, you can be. If you like this mystery man, go get him! What’ve you got to lose?”

“Everything,” he deadpanned.

“Oh, stop being so dramatic,” Freddie brushed off Roger’s comment with a wave of his hand. “I’m sure the two of you will fall in love and get married and fuck and have a ton of little blue-eyed, blonde-haired children running around one day!”

“Fuck you,” Roger laughed and pushed Freddie away from him, a wide smile gracing his features as his subconscious took the picture his friend painted and ran with it.

“Fuck me?” Freddie gasped in fake shock, clutching at his chest dramatically. “Right here? On this couch, in our very own stall?”

“You bloody wanker!” the drummer howled. He jumped to his feet, aiming to charge at his friend playfully, but lost his balance and began to fall to the floor.

Roger yelped when his forehead collided with the corner of the coffee table on his way down. His body hit the ground with a heavy thud, and he groaned in pain. He reached up to feel the damage the table did to his head and felt something warm running down his face.

“Holy shit!” Freddie exclaimed when Roger hit the floor. “Are you alright dear?”

Roger shook his head and brought his hand before his eyes. Red, hot blood covered his fingertips.

“I’m bleeding,” Roger hissed, unable to look away from his bloody hand.

God, he was a real fuck-up, wasn’t he? Clueless in both love and balance- though the alcohol may have had something to do with the latter.

Freddie peered over the couch and saw the cut across Roger’s hairline. His eyes widened comically. In a different situation, Roger might have laughed at the sight.

“Oh my God,” said Freddie. “That doesn’t look so good.”

“It hurts like a sonuvabitch,” he bit out.

The other man stumbled to his feet, thankfully keeping his balance despite his intoxication.

“I’ll call a cab- you need to get to the hospital,” he said, running to the landline and dialing for a someone to drive them.

Roger laid on the floor as Freddie made his call, trying to ignore the feeling of his own blood seeping into his hair. He didn’t trust himself to stand on his own after the fall he’d had. Once Freddie hung up the phone, he returned to Roger’s side with a towel from the back room.

He pressed the dry towel against Roger’s forehead, eliciting a hiss from the injured man.

“Sorry, sorry- I need to apply pressure, I think?” Freddie asked Roger for confirmation. He was a med student after all, he should know about first aid.

The blonde nodded slowly, trying to avoid dragging his cut against the rough towel.

“Yeah, pressure, apply pressure,” Roger drawled, his eyes shut to block out the pain.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. “Call Brian,” he bit out through the pain.

“Wha-? It’s midnight, dear- he said he has finals tomorrow,” said Freddie.

“I don’t care. Call him,” Roger insisted.

Puzzled but compliant to his friend’s request, Freddie left Roger to keeping the pressure against the cut to make a second call.

The phone rang for a while before their guitarist finally answered.

“Hello?” came a very tired reply on the end of the line.

“Bri darling, it’s Freddie,” he said, twirling the phone cord anxiously. “Could you stop by the stall? Actually no, wait- can you come by the-?”

“It is 12:00 in the goddamn morning Fred, what the hell do you want?”

“Roger had a bit of an accident- we’re taking him to the hospital,” he cut to the chase. “I think he wants you to come along? I-”

Freddie stopped short when an idea came to him. His mind raced as he thought over the conversation and Roger’s request to call their band-mate. A light bulb flickered to life in his head when he realized the identity of Roger’s secret crush.

“Ohhhh!” he exclaimed. “Oh! Oh, I get it now!”

“Get what?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Freddie brushed off Brian’s concern. “We’ll be on our way to the ER soon. Can you be there?”

“Of course- I’ll be there as soon as I can.“

“Thank you dear, thank you,” said the singer. “I’m sure Roger will really appreciate it.”

“What happened to him?” the genuine concern in Brian’s voice made Freddie’s heart soar for Roger.

The other man clearly cared for their drummer. Perhaps Roger could persuade him into a relationship after all. Or at least, he could with some help from Freddie.

“Split his head open on the table, poor thing,” Freddie said.

“Is he okay?”

“He’s- ah, no, not quite,” he hesitated to tell Brain the extent of Roger’s injury. “It’s bleeding pretty badly.”

“Shit,” muttered Brian. Freddie heard rustling on the other end of the line. “I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

“Alright. See you soon, dear.”

With that, Freddie put the phone back on the receiver and returned to Roger. The blonde man was still laying on the floor, clutching the towel to his head.

“He’s going on ahead of us darling, don’t worry,” he reassured, kneeling at Roger’s side and petting his hair comfortingly.

Roger leaned into the touch. “I’m an idiot,” he mumbled. “I’m a bloody terrible drunk.”

“Yeah, maybe you should have held back a little,” Freddie conceded. “Are you able to get up? We need to get you out to the curb.”

The blonde nodded slowly and reach out his hand for Freddie to take. With the other man’s help, he managed to sit up and stumble onto his feet. He groaned loudly.

“My head is pounding,” he hissed.

“I bet it is, darling,” said the singer.

He took Roger’s arm and helped him over through their stall and to the door. Suddenly, the blonde stopped short.

“Wait, wait,” he muttered, glancing to the back room. He sent Freddie a pleading look. “Can you go get my drink?”

“You bloody wanker.”

— -

Fortunately, their driver was sympathetic to their situation and drove them to the ER as fast as he could without having his license revoked. The nurse at the receptionist desk was less frantic. She calmly took their information and led them to an open room and fetched a doctor for Roger.

The doctor took a look at his wound and decided the cut wasn’t deep enough to require stitches. Freddie held Roger’s hand as the doctor cleaned the area, taped it shut, and wrapped gauze around his head. He just left after writing him a prescription for antibiotics to lower the risk of an infection when Brian burst through the door and ran to Roger’s bedside.

“Oh God,” he despaired when he saw the state the drummer was in. “What happened?”

“Tripped,” said Roger, not meeting Brian’s eyes.

“Tripped? That’s all?” asked Brian incredulously.

“Mhmm,” said the blonde. “Tipsy in more ways than one, eh?”

The taller man stared down at him for a moment, completely dumbfounded by his best friend’s antics.

“Unbelievable,” Brian groaned and ran a hand of his face. “I come down here thinking you’ve gone and bled out on me, and what do I find? A drunk who got what was coming to them.”

“Oh, don’t say that,” Roger drawled.

“Why did you even want me here?” he asked, agitation growing. “You know I finals tomorrow, you bloody twat.”

Roger shrugged half-heartedly. “I just- I wanted you here, just in case.”

“Just in case of what?”

The blonde was silent. “ … I dunno, in case something bad happened,” he answered finally.

Brian’s anger washed away as soon as it came. “Oh, Roger,” he said softly. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. You’re alright- it’s just a cut.”

“I didn’t- you can’t know that,” he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I do know that, actually,” Brian chuckled.

“No, you don’t.”

“I do,” Brian repeated with a tired smile. “I made a lot of wishes during that meteor shower. That’s how I know you’ll be okay.”

Roger turned his face away at a sorry attempt to hide his reddening cheeks. “You’re just saying that because you know I’m okay now.”

“Ah, so you admit it!” he exclaimed. “You said it yourself- you’re okay.”

Instead of replying, the blonde buried his face in his hands and let out a groan of exasperation, accepting his defeat. Brian chuckled again at the drummer’s antics.

Meanwhile, Freddie watched the exchange between his two band-mates, a knowing grin spread across his lips. He couldn’t stop his next words from coming.

“You two are adorable, aren’t you?” he commented.

Roger sent Freddie a surprised look before realizing he must have figured out his secret. He sent the singer a cutting glare, prompting Freddie to burst into laughter. Brian stared at the two is confusion.

“Adorable?” the guitarist asked.

“Yes, adorable,” Freddie gestured between his two friends. “Bickering like an old married couple- hell, you even suggested that you made a wish on a star for him!”

Brian sputtered, trying to deny the obvious for a moment before a light blush crept along his cheeks. “I- platonically, Fred! I wished on a star for Rog platonically,” he emphasized. “Can’t I wish for my friend’s health and happiness?”

“Of course you can, dear, of course,” he waved off his excuses and stood. “I’m going to the vending machine. I’ll be back.”

“Hold on- no you don’t-” Roger tried to call Freddie back, but the other man was already out the door, fulfilling his scheme to leave his band-mates alone together for a while.

The blonde growled in frustration and fell back onto the bed, reaching to run his hand through his hair. He stopped when he felt the bandage. The area felt better now that it had been treated, but it still throbbed uncomfortably.

Roger glanced up at Brian, who was staring down at him with a concerned expression, mostly unfazed by Freddie’s teasing remarks. If only Roger felt the same.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I guess your wish really worked, didn’t it?” the drummer asked.

“Well it’s not like wishing on a star actually-”

“No, Bri- I mean it,” Roger interrupted before could begin to ramble. “I’m fine, aren’t I? Your wish worked.”

His gaze held Brian’s for a long moment, trying to express his gratitude. Sure, wishes weren’t real and Roger never believed in fate, but there was real sentiment behind his best friend’s wish. Brian cared about him, even if it was just the care that friends had for one another. Roger clung to the feeling of being wanted, being appreciated by the other man.

It might not have been love, not yet, anyway, but Roger could only hope what hey had could evolve into more. After all, if Brian’s wish worked, maybe his would too.

Brian smiled nervously and said, “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Right- sleep,” Roger murmured and rubbed at his eyes. “God, I could pass out right now.”

“I’m pretty sure you can’t,” said Brian. “You don’t need to stay overnight in the hospital for a cut like your’s. They’re going to send you home once they set you up with some meds.”

Roger sent him a look of disbelief. “You’re joking,” he said. “I come in here, drunk, bleeding all over the place, and they don’t have the decency to lend me a cot for the night?”

“They have other patients, you know,” said the guitarist.

“Fuck the other patients- what about me?” he whined.

“Oh, come off it, Rog-” Brian shoved his shoulder gently to avoid justling his head- “You can sleep once you come back to the flat.”

The drummer quirked a brow, “The flat? As in your flat?”

Brian nodded. “My place is closer. I’m not wasting time and petrol driving you and Freddie all the way across town,” he explained with a shrug of his shoulders.

“But- your flat’s only got two beds- what about John?” he asked.

“John’s already gone home for the holidays,” said Brian. “You two can take the beds and I’ll take the couch.

Roger wrinkled his nose in distaste. “You’re way too tall for that- and you have finals tomorrow. You need sleep,” he pointed out. “I’ll take the couch.”

“I’m not making either of you sleep on the couch- you’re injured,” said Brian sharply.

“Fine, I’ll just sleep with you,” said Roger without thinking.

The sudden stop in their conversation made him realize what exactly he suggested. Roger’s eyes widened as he watched Brian’s expression shift.

“With me?” his best friend repeated.

He hoped Brian would mistake the redness of his cheeks as a side-effect of the alcohol.

Roger swallowed, “I mean- if it’s alright with-”

“It is. Alright with me, that is- sharing the bed. My bed,” Brian stammered quickly. “I just- I didn’t think you’d be comfortable with that.”

The blonde was completely blown away by his luck. Comfortable with it? It’s all Roger ever wanted. This was the best early Christmas present Brian could have given him.

“Better than sleeping on your bloody couch, isn’t it?” Roger laughed, trying to ease Brian’s apprehension.

The guitarist nodded to himself, surprised by Roger’s willingness to share a bed. However, they were best friends. They’d already been through so much together. Was it really so strange for them to sleep together?

Brian felt his cheeks begin to warm at the thought. He knew it was ridiculous to be embarrassed about the situation, but he couldn’t help but blush when he imagined him and Roger, curled around one another as they slept. Maybe one thing could even lead to another, and they would-

The guitarist blinked back to reality. God, what was he thinking? He wasn’t some lovesick schoolgirl. He refused to feed the flames of his silly crush. Sharing a bed with Roger didn’t have to be some big thing between them. It was just to keep warm and sleep comfortably- and it was just for tonight.

It was then that Freddie returned, an open bag of crisps in hand. “What did I miss?” he asked, returning to Roger’s side.

“Brian’s offered to let us spend the night at his place,” Roger caught their other band-mate up to date.

“Really? Thank you, dear,” said Freddie to Brian. “I wouldn’t have been able to call us another cab again anyways-” he raised his bag of crisps- “I just spent the last of my cash.”

Brian’s eyes lowered. “So you were counting on me driving you home,” he stated.

“Of course. You’re too nice for your own good sometimes,” the singer chuckled and popped a crisp into his mouth.

Brian let out a resigned sigh and glanced to Roger. They shared an amused look as their regarded their frontman. Fantastical, frustrating, fascinating Freddie.

Soon enough, the doctor returned, gave Roger his prescription, and discharged him from the hospital. Brian helped Roger and Freddie to his car. Both men were still annoying drunk, stumbling over their own feet. The drive home was terrible. Roger and Freddie sang Christmas carols the entire ride at the top of their lungs. Brian had a raging headache by the time he parked the car near his flat.

“Why do I even put up with you two?” he muttered as he led them to his door.

Despite their height difference, Freddie managed to sling his arm over Brian’s shoulder. “Because you love us, darling,” he drawled and patted the guitarist’s cheek.

Brian sighed. “I know, I know,” he said under his breath as he unlocked the door.

“Mhmm. You know who you should really love though?” Freddie said and stumbled into his flat with Roger on his heels.

Brian shut the door behind them and asked, “Who’s that?”

Freddie sent him an impish smile. He leaned in close to Brian’s ear.

“Roger,” he whispered and promptly broke into drunken giggles.

The taller man took a step away from Freddie, regarding his friend with suspicion. Where had Freddie gotten that idea? Brian was always careful. He never spoke of his feelings for Roger before- hell, he never even wrote them down. He was too afraid that someone- that Roger- would find out and hate him for it. Ruining their friendship wasn’t worth the slim chance of being more than friends.

Perhaps his secret was somehow obvious? Brian paled at the thought.

“What gives you that idea?” he spoke lowly, not wanting Roger to overhear.

A quick glance up at his flat told Brian that the blonde must have already wandered into his bedroom. His heartbeat quickened when he imagined going to his room tonight and finding Roger in his bed. Maybe he’d already be asleep, curled up in his sheets, his pretty face completely relaxed.

A pleasant shiver raced down his spine.

Freddie leaned in closer, his lips nearly flush against Brian’s ear. “Oh, nothing,” he answered childishly.

With that, he padded off in the direction of John’s room. “Have a good night, darling,” Freddie called back to Brian. The other man could almost hear the mischievous wink in his voice. “And good luck with your finals.”

Freddie shut the door behind him, leaving Brian alone in the common area of his flat to wonder if he was just drunk and rambling or hinting at something more. The guitarist didn’t know what to think. Fortunately, he was too tired to waste energy analyzing the meaning of Freddie’s comment.

Brian walked lightly to his bedroom, trying to be quiet for his neighbor’s sake- or for Roger’s sake, if he was already asleep. The blonde had a rough night after all.

When he crossed the threshold of his room, he found his best friend not quite as he’d expected. Roger was was standing next to the bed, staring at it longingly, but hesitating to lay down.

“Rog?” Brian called softly.

Roger turned to him. It was then Brian noticed the conflicted look on his angelic features, his brow creased and eyes downcast.

“I should just sleep on the couch,” the blonde murmured, shifting from foot to foot with nervous energy.

Brian blinked. “No- we talked about this,” he reassured.

Roger bit his lip. “But you don’t actually want to share a bed,” he said sullenly.

The taller man shook his head, his long corkscrew curls bouncing across his shoulders. “I really don’t mind it.”

‘I don’t mind’ was an understatement. Brian was more than willing to share his bed with Roger- eager, even. Not that he would admit it, of course.

It was then that the blonde met his eyes, searching for any hesitation in the older man’s expression. Relief washed over him when he found none.

Roger nodded slowly. “Alright,” he said, hoping his nerves weren’t seeping into his tone.

Brian watched as his best friend climbed into his bed, arranging to covers on top of him.

“You can have the pillow,” he offered immediately. “You’re injured. You need it.”

The drummer’s gaze darted to him, his expression clearly grateful. He nodded to himself and pulled the pillow closer to the wall.

Once Roger was settled, Brian slowly joined him on the bed, careful not to jostle the mattress too much. He positioned his body as close to the edge of the bed as he could without being in danger of falling off the side in the middle of the night.

For a moment, he tried to ignore the fact that Roger was lying next to him, his breathing moving the covers just enough to be a constant reminder of his presence. Brian laid still and quiet with closed eyes, willing himself to fall asleep faster so he could wake up in the morning and pretend this never happened. Already he wanted to forget how satisfying it was to know that it was Roger sleeping next to him, and not one of the girls he from the university he dated to forget just how much he wanted the gorgeous blonde, his best friend.

God, what would his parents think if they sent him off to get a good education, only for him to leave school to join a rock band and come home with another man on his arm? The image of his mum’s crestfallen face and his dad’s disappointed glare rattled him to his very core.

“Brian?” came a small whisper from beside him.

He turned to face Roger, who was illuminated only by the warm yellow light of the streetlamp outside his window. The troubled expression his best friend wore only served to make him feel worse. Every reservation Brian held was washed away by the sudden concern he felt for Roger.

“Yes?” Brian whispered back.

The younger man’s baby blue, wistful eyes darted across Brian’s face. His cheeks were still red from the booze, his voice still somewhat slurred. While Roger’s drinking habits usually bothered Brian, he found that he didn’t mind effect it had on the blonde tonight. He looked absolutely beautiful.

Their eyes met, their combined gazes searching for the same hidden emotion.

Roger let out a shuddering sigh, and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Brian frowned. “For what?” he asked.

Roger didn’t answer him. Instead, he moved closer and closer to Brian’s face until their noses were almost touching, and then-

He kissed him. Roger’s lips were on his own, moving and sucking and searching for reciprocation from the other man. It was sinful. It was heavenly. Without thinking, Brian found himself kissing Roger back.

The blonde nearly sobbed in relief when his affection was returned. He kissed Brian harder, moving to their bodies closer together. Brian allowed the change, pulling himself up so he was nearly straddling the younger man. Their hands roamed through each other’s hair, Brian being careful not to tug at Roger’s bandage.

They went on that way for a few blissful minutes before Roger who pulled. The blonde gasped for breath, staring deeply into Brian’s eyes. The older man panted, overwhelmed by the onslaught of suppressed emotions rushing to the forefront of his mind, his love and his lust for Roger overpowering him like never before.

He’d wanted this for so long. He’d tried to deny it, tried to forget it, but in the end everything always came back to Roger. Arguing with Roger about the pace of their music, the jealousy that came with watching Roger pick up girls after their gigs, the joy he felt when he and Roger were alone together, talking or laughing or just enjoying each other’s company. Brian hadn’t realized it until now, but his life revolved around his best friend.

Roger was what Brian had always wanted, and Roger was what Brian had always had.

“Roger,” he breathed out his love’s name and caressed his cheek.

The blonde smiled up at him sleepily, closing his eyes in bliss and happy satisfaction. Brian wanted him back. His fears had all been for nothing.

When the blonde didn’t respond to him, Brian repeated, “Roger?”

Taking a closer look at the younger man below him, Brian realized Roger’s breathing had even out considerably.

Brian chuckled to himself, and murmured, “Of course.”

Roger fell asleep the moment they pulled away from each other. Brian couldn’t blame him- he’d had a long day after all. They both had. The stall was busy with the Christmas rush, and Brian with studying for his finals. Not to mention the huge gash on Roger’s forehead, and them confessing their feelings for one another.

Brian laid down beside Roger, this time having no problem with cuddling as close to the other man as he could. He smiled unconsciously and pressed his head into Brian’s chest.

“Goodnight, Rog,” Brian placed a small kiss into the blonde’s hair.

Brian soon found himself nodding off, slipping into a peaceful sleep. There were no dreams he could have that night that could best the one he’d already fulfilled.

She brings to those who love The sweet fulfillment of their secret longing Like a bolt out of the blue Fate steps in and sees you through When you wish upon a star Your dreams come true

#fic #submission #maylor #secret santa gifts #roger: drunk #freddie: drunk #friends to lovers #relationship: friends

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m0onbean · 6 years

Note

Can I please get a Wonwoo from Seventeen college AU (maybe he helps you study for exams), fluff please

ok but imagine wonwoo tutoring you....

when they say that college students are dead inside, they really are

because here we have you studying on your bed, papers literally everywhere, and some sad music in the background that really fits your mood

and when your roommate barges in your room and is like "(y/n) i can feel ur bad vibes from my room " ur just kinda like "yeah i just pulled two all-nighters and i have an exam tomorrow and i haven't eaten anything except for a gallon of coffee. how are u today, Karen. :)))))"

it's not like you're not smart,,, you're just hella stressed bc your professor doesn't teach that well and the material is rlly hard to understand

and your exam for your biochemistry class is TOMORROW nd no matter how much you try to understand enzymatic reactions u just can't fully comprehend it

the next morning u arrive in class with hella eyebags and u just sit in your seat and lay your head down on the desk

nd ur best friend & annoying seat partner Mingyu is like "wow Mood"

mingyu is not the sharpest tool in the shed but he's only taking the class to "explore his options" so honestly he just stopped trying

nd u just kinda face him and ur like "bro i honestly don't understand these past chapters and if i dont im gonna fail this class and im gonna have to retake it."

so mingyu pulls out his thinking face and he's like "hmmmm i know somebody who can tutor you" and you're like "Mingyu,,,,, i'm not going to let seungkwan tutor me Last time we met at the library and he was wearing a flower costume nd told me that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell"

and mingyu just,,,, well damn i can't help u then

so the tests are passed out and as expected, you didn't know a lot of the answers and had to use your common sense

after u turn your test in you leave the classroom with a real heavy heart nd it rlly do feel like you have no more hope

nd when you leave the room mingyu is waiting for you outside while talking to this guy

the guy was about the same height as mingyu but had darker hair and was wearing these round glasses. he was also wearing these dark skinny jeans and leather jacket and ur like Who is This Edgy Dude

when mingyu sees you he's like :D and he's like "shoo" to the Edgy guy and the guy just kinda gives u a blank look and walks away

and you're like who is that guy you were talking to? nd Mingyu immediately "uHHH don't even try (y/n) he is not interested in relationships"

u're just like "OK I WASN'T- nevermind." bc YES he's kinda cute but u need to worry about ur studies too

then suddenly mingyu face lights up like he got an idea and he's like "WAIT. WAIT. OH my god i'm such a genius wow-"

",,so r u going to share ur good idea" and mingyu's like

"I SHOULD HAVE WONWOO HELP YOU STUDY!!!"

and you're ?????????????????????????????????who?

without even answering your question mingyu just goes off and is like omg this is perfect oK wonwoo is actually hella smart and already took this class wow oh my god maybe a romance will bud from this-

next thing you know, you're waiting at the library with mingyu and you're just liKE are you Sure he's okay with tutoring me?? and mingyu's just like Okay i know he looks really edgy but he's smart

nd being the little doubtful bean u are u're just What If I'm too Dumb for Him????????? What If he gets frustrated with me????????????????? What if-

"do u want me to call seungkwan instead?"

"no. thisis perfect."

wonwoo arrives after a few minutes and u both introduce yourself and dang he's really good-looking up close

(in the back mingyu is staring at his two best friends proudly)

and mingyu just like... Ok, Gotta blast! and you and wonwoo are like WHAT

AND HE JUST KINDA RUNS OUT THE LIBRARY WHILE BUMPING INTO A BOOKSHELF ON THE WAY

so now it's just you and wonwoo at a study table nd he doesn't even hesitate and starts from Lesson 1 (even though you're on Lesson 5)

his voice is really deep and soothing nd he's kinda quiet and doesn't make a lot of jokes

basically he's an alternate version of mingyu

nd as wonwoo goes over the lessons u realize how much stuff you overlooked and how things that used to not make sense suddenly become so clear!!!!!!!

and you're like Oh My God!!!!!!!!! you're so smart wow

and u can see wonwoo's ears turn a lil' red at the compliment

and before you know it??? u're caught up to Lesson 3 already

even tho he's kinda quiet, u can tell that he's hella sophisticated and whenever u have questions he explains the answers in great detail

nd at the end of the tutor session, you both pack your bags and you're shyly like "can we meet tomorrow at the same time?"

wonwoo just gives u a small smile and nods ur head and ur like wow...... he's really cute

and so it just kinda goes like that

you two meet up everyday at the library and he helps you study

nd ur always worried bc like doesn't he need to study.. too??

whenever u try to ask him that he just brushes it off and insists he's fine

and after a couple weeks you start to know him better like even tho he seems rly cold and reserved on the inside he's actually just a lame ass beanpole that lpves puns

u'd be like "Ok so nucleic acids convey genetic information....." nd wonwoo would just "... nucleic ASSid"

like e??efaleihfal??? that doesn'T MAKE ANY SENSE WONWOO BUT GO OFF I GUESS

sometimes u two can go offtrack and start talking about the possibility of dogs conquering the government

nd sometimes u see him on campus and u wave vigorously @ him

and wonwoo's cute lil' nose will scrunch up and ohmygod he's so adorable!!!

so as time passes a rlly huge exam comes up for your biochemistry class and you're AAAAAAAAAAAAAAASCREAMING

but!! wonwoo saves ur life bc he helps u with every single thing

nd for once? u feel really confident!

on the night before the exam u're like calling mingyu and ur like "wow... wonwoo is actually really helpful. he's the best thing u've given me honestly"

and mingyu would be all smug nd proud of himself like istg do not feed this boy's ego

then suddenly mingyu would be like "..... do you like wonwoo" and you ????????????????????????????? NO

*insert panic*

but you actually kind of do

nd the morning of ur exam u're all pumped up and in class mingyu is like actually jealous annoyed at how motivated u are

"mayb i should've kept wonwoo to myself.." he'd mutter

and guess what? u're pretty sure you aced your exam!!

so u exit the classroom not feeling dead for once and u see wonwoo waiting outside without mingyu which!! is a first

like u two barely talk outside of tutoring

nd ur like "waiting for mingyu?" and he turns to u with a kinda flustered expression and is like... actually i came to see you

and you're Oh...... but then you get really happy and you're like "WONWOO THANK YOU SO MUCH"

nd without thinking you just hug him rlly tightly and he's OOF but hugs u back

and when you let go he's blushing really hard and he's like "so did you do well on the test?" and ur like "yep i'm pretty sure... thanks to u"

and you two are smiling at eachother until you ask him to have lunch with you so now you're both walking off while holding hands happily

nd maybe... just maybe u had big feelings for his cute ass

and mingyu is watching you guys from a distance while smiling at himself bc WoW he really matched his two best friends together

#becky's writings #jeon wonwoo #svt #seventeen #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo headcanons #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo fanfictions #Anonymous

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hopeandfirewrites · 5 years

Text

day 03: quill

30 DAY PROMPT CHALLENGE (DRAGON AGE). FARANNI LAVELLAN//LIAWYN LAVELLAN. FARANNI LAVELLAN//SOLAS (MENTIONED). WORD COUNT: 1734.

Small growls of frustration filled the library as she stared desperately at a blank piece of parchment, trying and failing to magic words out of thin air in the same fashion the library regulars around her seemed to be doing with ease. Writing had never been her strong suit. When she’d been with her clan, she’d only been taught the basics of literacy because Liawyn had been desperate for someone to practice with, and in the time since she’d learned a little more thanks to tutoring from Dorian and Solas and Finn. Still, she was more articulate with a bow and arrow than she was with quill and ink, and being bad at something served enough to frustrate her, especially today.

It had been more than half a year since Liawyn had been killed in the explosion at the Conclave. Faranni had initially planned to celebrate, so to speak, by riddling a defenseless straw dummy with as many arrows as she could find. Then, if she didn’t feel better, maybe she would craft or buy more and send those flying as well. Anything to take her mind off the sting of loss that still burned just beneath her skin. Anything to make it go away. Would it ever go away? How many Red Templars would she have to kill before she could sleep without being plagued by nightmares?

Would the cycle of revenge ever satisfy itself?

This whole writing escapade had started with Dorian and Finn ambushing her at the shooting range, one on each side. Finn had mentioned before that her blind rage wasn’t exactly healthy, but had never complained about the fact that the same rage was what got things accomplished in the field. She could go berserk better than the best bruisers, mowing down unarmored enemies with a downpour of well placed shots. But perhaps the fact that her anger hadn’t died down had the Inquisitor worried. Josephine had mentioned that her temper didn’t exactly sit well with the nobles, and Finn couldn’t very well expect Solas to babysit her every time they had company.

Or maybe he was just being a good friend. In her heart, Faranni wanted to believe that she’d made friends beyond Solas. She wanted to believe that Finn had her best interests in mind, that he had her back, but the black pit of anxiety in her stomach screamed otherwise.

“Riddling templars with arrows is all well and good and you’re an excellent shot,” Finn had said, handing her an ornate box that housed the quill she now spun in her fingers, “But Dorian and I think it might help with your emotional constipation to write some of it down. It’s supposed to be…I don’t know, therapeutic, I guess. And it’ll help with your writing.”

They two of them led her back to the library, set her up with some parchment, and told her to write about her feelings. A letter to Deshanna or Sorrel. Perhaps to her parents? Dorian had even, after they wrestled her bow away from her, recommended trying to write a letter to Liawyn. “And burn it after,” He’d said, “Or keep it. Whatever makes you feel happy.”

And so she sat, unable to escape because Finn had stationed Dorian right around the corner. Write something, she told herself, twirling the quill between her fingers, It’ll be good for you. It’s what Lia would’ve down.

What Lia would’ve done.

It’s been a bit over six months since they sent you away. You smiled when Deshanna gave you the news and said you’d never really fit in with the clan anyway. Too much curiosity. Too much of an interest in the ways of the outside world. Maintaining and conveying our history wasn’t enough for you. When you told me the news, that you were honored to be sent, I told you that if you left I’d never accept you back. I said you should never come back. I was angry and I didn’t mean it literally but it seems like you took it literally anyway.

For all your cleverness, you always were sort of airheaded.

Her hands shook. Vision blurring with tears as memories that had been locked away bubbled to the surface. But still, she had to continue. This is good, she told herself. Facing these memories was good. A good way to honor Liawyn. And she didn’t have a choice in the matter regardless.

I came to Haven looking for you. Instead I found the Inquisition. I think you would have fit in faster than I did. So many different races and cultures working together - it would’ve been a sort of paradise for you. All held together by a human mage named Finn. He let me stay and in a lot of ways, he’s been looking out for me ever since. I wonder if the two of you would’ve gotten along. Sometimes I wonder, what if you had been the one to survive and he had been the one to die. I know it’s a morbid thought but if you’d been in his position…

What would you have done?

Would you have shared your optimism with the rest of the Inquisition? Would you have brightened their outlooks on life, in the same way you brightened mine? Would you have shared your beautiful, colorful soul with them, eager to learn everything they could teach you? Would you, six months after the explosion of the Conclave, sat down to write a letter to me?

Would I have read it? Or would I still be so blinded by anger over your leaving that I would’ve-

The quill fell out of her hands, body shaking with grief over her actions and her loss. Faranni pressed her back against the chair, trying to put as much distance between herself and that damned letter as possible. She drew her knees into her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs - effectively made herself as small as possible and wept.

For what she had done. For what she could have done. For what she had lost.

It seemed like hours. Hours that neither Finn nor Dorian came to find her. Hours that no one came to her rescue while anxiety mingled with sorrow to form something inexplicable. Something that told her, loudly, that she should die. She would deserve it, after all. She had no right to be angry over Liawyn’s death when she’d been the cause of it. She had no right to be here, fighting at Finn’s side, when she frequently imagined a reality where he was dead. She had no right. She had no right. She had no reason to live-

Her spiral was stopped by a hand on her shoulder, gentle yet firm. It pulled her back into reality. The reality where Finn was alive and Liawyn was gone. The reality where she had been given a chance to exact her revenge. The reality where she was the only one left to offer herself forgiveness. When she looked up, she was met with grey eyes. Wise. Familiar. And full of sympathy.

“Breathe.” Solas told her.

She did as instructed. A breath in and then a breath out. And another. And another. And another until finally she managed to release her legs and let them slump back down to the floor. “Why are you alone?” He asked her.

“They-” Her voice still shook, but she did her best to appear strong. Solas knew otherwise. He knew of her fear, but it was nice to pretend, “They thought it would help to write about my feelings. Instead of wallowing in my anger. I think maybe Finn was afraid it might consume me. I think maybe he was trying to help.”

“A wise notion,” Solas agreed, kneeling down next to her. His hand never left her shoulder, “But I think it is unwise that they left you alone to do it.”

“I couldn’t write while they were watching,” Faranni confessed, “So Finn asked Dorian to keep an eye on me, but-”

“If I had not seen you, I would not have known something was wrong either.” He admitted, “You told me what Dorian and Finn think you need. Tell me what you think you need.”

“Quiet. I thought I needed to shoot something, but I shoot things every day,” She watched him nod in agreement, a feeling of validation and something else pooling in the pit of her stomach, “I need quiet. I need-”

“The dead cannot forgive the living.” It was harsh. Too harsh. Spoken strong enough that she flinched when they were said, “But from what you have told me of Liawyn, I don’t believe forgiveness is needed. I think she would have been happy to see you surrounded by people who care about you and I think she would have been honored to have you fighting for her.”

“People who care about me?”

“Of course,” Solas rose to his feet, coaxing her up with him, “Do you think Finn and Dorian did this to torture you?”

“Well, no, I-” She steaded herself against him, warmth spreading through her body where it had been cold just moments ago, “I thought Finn wanted to reign me in.”

“I think if Finn had the chance, he would unleash you upon every noble to step foot in Skyhold. I think, given the chance, he would encourage you to heal in whatever healthy way you deemed necessary. Isn’t that right, Inquisitor?”

The tips of Faranni’s ears went red when she realized Finn was watching them, leaning against a nearby bookcase and smirking like the smug little shit he was. Immediately, she shoved away from Solas, the blush creeping further into her freckled cheeks as she went to swipe her letter off the table. Solas rubbed his shoulder where she’d shoved him, feigning injury, and Finn laughed, “Don’t stop on my account.”

“I know it might not be your way of doing things, but I prefer to keep my personal matters personal.” She said proudly, turning to hand him the damp piece of parchment she’d snatched off the table, “I wrote the letter.”

“You don’t have to give it to me.”

“Then…what am I supposed to do with it?”

“Like Dorian said, keep it. Or we can burn it.”

“Yeah,” The thought of burning her pain, her anger, her shame, bright a smile to her face, “Let’s burn it.”

#dragon age fanfiction #dragon age fanfic #solas #lavellan #solavellan #oc x oc #solas x lavellan #char: solas #char: liawyn #char: faranni

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galfridus1 · 6 years

Text

Happy Birthday Arthur!

It’s 17 August here and it’s Arthur’s birthday!! Many happy returns!

Here’s a fic, inspired by prompt from @thestarrynightgazer and with thanks to @maybeishouldwait for comments. This is part one of three/four depending on whether you count reblogs.

***

“It’s his birthday? Today?”

Zeldris looked at Gelda with absolute incredulity, his heart pounding uncomfortably in his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he griped as he shot out of bed, quickly rummaging in the wardrobe for something to wear. “Now I’ve got less than eight hours to find him a present.”

Gelda looked up at him, her face calm and serene as she propped herself up with a number of pillows. “I would have thought you’d remember,” she chastised, a slight smile curving the left side of her mouth. “How long have we been living together now? Time enough for you to know when Arthur’s birthday is. And besides it’s on the calendar…”

“Yes, yes alright!” Zeldris grumbled as he pulled on some clothes. “What’s happening anyway?”

Gelda looked at him, her violet eyes gleaming and Zeldris felt the breath catch in his throat. It was the one feature they shared, their eyes so like one another’s, their beauty causing him pause even after all these years. “You have no need to worry,” she chuckled, “I’ve sorted everything out. The party will be here. Arthur knows nothing about it but everyone else does, and I booked catering. The cake is a masterpiece.”

“How are you always so organised?” Zeldris muttered as he checked his reflection in the full-length mirror, running a hand through his hair to make sure the spikes were arranged in their proper place.

“It’s easy really,” Gelda replied, “You just have to pay attention and get stuff done. Which is what you should do now. I have suggestions for gifts if you’d like?”

Zeldris paused, his lips pressed together as he battled temptation. “No. I do this every year. I’m going to get him something myself this time.”

Gelda laughed, the tinkling sound reverberating through the air. “Well, good luck. Text me if you draw a blank.”

***

Four hours later Zeldris sincerely regretted telling his girlfriend that he did not need her help. He had scoured what felt like the whole of Oxford Street, trying and failing to find something Arthur might feasibly want as a gift. But it was all to no avail. The problem was Arthur had everything any twenty-five year old could possibly want, and if he got him alcohol again Gelda would no doubt raise her eyebrows, the expression saying ‘I told you so’ more clearly than any words could convey.

Still, a bottle of some random liquor was better than nothing. Turning abruptly, adroitly dodging the crowds swarming past in the opposite direction, Zeldris made his way back to the department store he had listlessly explored earlier that morning. The day was hot, the relentless August sun beating down on the shoppers who dragged their feet limply down the tarmaced street but Zeldris trudged on, wrinkling his nose in disgust as the odd smell of grease from the stalls dotting the sides of the road caused him to gag slightly. He just wanted the whole sorry experience to be over. Thank goodness Gelda’s birthday was not until April next year.

He was nearing the pretentious facade of Selfridges when a conversation caught his attention, the words somehow penetrating his consciousness above the hubbub of chatter. His eyes strayed to a small girl walking alongside her mother, clutching at a lead for dear life as an enthusiastic puppy pulled her forcefully along. The animal looked delighted, oblivious to the weather, and Zeldris was surprised to feel a twinge of longing piercing his chest. It looked so much fun, and of course Arthur had always wanted a dog.

Zeldris stood stock still, causing several passersby to bump into him forcefully. And why not? True, a dog was not ideal - they shed hair like nobody’s business and made their surroundings smell like mouldy old socks when wet - but the three of them were older now, and well off. They could easily afford to look after a pet, and it could always live outside in the garden. And as a gift it was at least original; Gelda could hardly complain that he had wimped out this time.

***

About half an hour later, Zeldris was standing in the reception of Battersea Dogs and Cats home, the only place he could think of in central London where one might find a canine at short notice. The walls were covered in pictures and leaflets showcasing the charity’s many success stories, sorry-looking mongrels, skeletal and with mangy fur, transformed into sleek, happy and well-beloved pets. He was just congratulating himself on his brilliant idea when the voice of the receptionist pulled him back to reality.

“You need to book an appointment for an interview about adopting a dog,” she gently explained as she tapped on her computer keyboard. “We have slots next week, but nothing available until then, I’m afraid.”

Zeldris felt his heart sink slightly. “Is there nothing sooner?” he asked cautiously. “I was really hoping to get one today.”

“Well that’s out for a start,” the woman said sharply, her eyes drilling into him as she turned away from her screen. “We are very careful here. We don’t let just anyone adopt a dog. There’s an initial interview, a home visit to check suitability, and then an observation when a suitable pet has been found. The whole process takes about a month.”

“A month?” Zeldris asked incredulously. “But… I mean…”

“If you’re after a specific dog, don’t worry, there’s always plenty, and sometimes the cute ones aren’t all they’re cracked up to be,” the lady continued, her expression softening slightly. “We have dozens of Staffies and they’re great companions. People look down on them, but they’re wonderful. I have three myself.”

“It’s not that,” Zeldris said quickly, feeling an unwelcome heat flooding his cheeks. “It’s… well this is embarrassing. It’s my boyfriend’s birthday today and he’s always wanted a dog. I really wanted to surprise him.”

“Awww!” The noise that issued from the woman’s mouth was somewhere between a sigh and a swoon. “That’s so, so… romantic,” she gushed, and Zeldris felt the blush he was trying to manage spiral out of control. “But it doesn’t change things,” she added more gently, a sad smile on her face. “There’s no way you can adopt a dog as a surprise. Our team will need to talk to your boyfriend too.”

Zeldris was on the point of making a hasty exit when he caught a calculating look in the receptionist’s eyes. “But…” she began, her lips pursed in thought.

“Go on,” he encouraged, with some effort forcing his face to return to its normal countenance. “You have something in mind?”

“As it happens, yes,” the woman continued, the words accompanied by a vigorous nod. “You see, the team raided a kitten farm a few days ago. The poor things were being kept in such awful conditions and… well the upshot is we have far more cats than we know how to deal with. And a slot for an interview just opened up. If we have a cat that’s a match for your family then you can take it home with you today.”

“A cat?” Zeldris mulled over the idea and the more he thought about it the more pleased he became. They were by far superior animals in every way. They cleaned themselves, did not require walks, and had the added benefit that they would keep any pests at bay. Zeldris pictured himself sitting on the sofa, a dainty feline jumping up to him and laying its head in his lap. And Arthur did like cats. Maybe not as much as dogs but he did like them. Only last month he had been encouraging a stray to visit the garden, that is until the sorry-looking animal had given him fleas.

“Thank you, why not,” he finally said, returning the receptionist’s eager smile as the lady started tapping away at her computer once more.

***

No long after, Zeldris found himself being led up the stairs towards a room that smelled strongly of biscuits and bleach. The walls were lined on all sides with cages, perspex doors with holes in giving a glimpse into the almost identical habitats within. Each cat had bowls of food and water, a litter tray and a box to hide in, as well as a few toys scattered about on the white laminate surfaces. The occupants however could not have been more varied: the cats came in every colour imaginable; some ran up towards their doors, rubbing their heads against the plastic in greeting while others shied away, turning their backs.

The interview had been an informal affair consisting of a few questions about the household amenities and some quiz-like queries about the cost of vet care and insurance. Zeldris was glad he had read the blurb on the organisation’s website as he’d waited for his meeting with one of the Home’s volunteers to begin; the answers he’d needed were still fresh in his mind.

“Now let’s see…” the volunteer murmured as he leafed through the notes of interview, the papers rustling slightly in his fingers. “Three adults, all of you working long hours, and no children. I think we have just the cat for you.

“I have to warn you he’s lazy, which is good because he will basically do nothing to the house while you’re at work. But don’t expect him to be a good mouser,” the young man added as he led Zeldris to a cage in the corner of the room. Inside sat one of the fattest creatures Zeldris had ever seen; the white and ginger cat was at least as wide as it was long, if not wider, and sat at its empty food bowl with a mournful expression. It looked like a circle more than anything, or perhaps a stuffed cushion, though the colouring reminded him strongly of Arthur.

“His name is Cath, don’t ask me why,” the volunteer said as he gave the cat an affectionate look. “And as you can see he likes his food. We’ve put him on a diet since he’s arrived and he’s not been too happy about it. But I think some proper fuss will help him settle.”

Zeldris, regarding Cath with something approaching disgust, was on the point of asking if any other unwanted felines were possibly available when the volunteer opened the cage. Before Zeldris knew what was happening the cat had launched itself into his arms and started purring loudly, the vibrations reverberating through him as Cath fell asleep.

“He’s… not done that with anyone before,” the volunteer said incredulously. “He must really like you!”

“Probably just hungry,” Zeldris muttered under his breath but deep down he was secretly pleased. It was nice to be holding the cat, who was even heavier than he looked, in the knowledge that the feline was at least a bit choosy.

The young man retrieved a wad of papers stuck in a plastic folder next to the cage, his eyes flicking from side to side as they traced the words on the pages. “Cath has a clean bill of health, and he’s been fully vaccinated. He’s ready to go,” he said cheerfully as he gave Zeldris a wide smile. “He’s a well adjusted cat too. Nothing untoward in his past; his previous owners just couldn’t afford to feed him I think.”

Prising Cath out of his arms proved more difficult than expected but eventually, between them, two volunteers managed to wrestle the animal into a travel box. So it was that, loaded down with food, a litter tray and, of course, the enormous cat in a cage, Zeldris set off in a taxi heading for home. He imagined how pleased Arthur and Gelda would be even as the weight of the cat pressed into his lap.

It was only as he approached the terraced house the three of them shared that he noticed his phone, the lock screen flashing to show he had several missed calls and a veritable flurry of unread messages, most of them containing the words ‘where are you’ in capital letters. It was much later than he had thought, and the party would likely be starting soon, that is if it was not already underway.

In a rush, Zeldris paid the taxi driver and made his way as quickly as possible to the door of the house, hampered in his efforts by the amount of cargo he carried. He was met on the threshold by a furious Gelda. “Where have you been?” she hissed, her eyes smouldering into his own before she caught sight of the amount of stuff he was carrying, “And what is all this?”

“I got him a cat,” Zeldris said lamely, his voice sounding unsure even in his own ears. Gelda stared him with undisguised astonishment, before her face morphed into an enormous grin. In a second she was kneeling before the travel cage, cooing like an imbecile at the still-purring feline.

“That’s an amazing idea! You are completely forgiven,” Gelda said in rapture as she opened the cage, the huge cat launching into her arms in an instant. “Let’s go give it to him now. We’ve already done the reveal. He was surprised,” she added with a little reproach in her voice as she settled the cat more securely in her arms. “Where did you get it from?”

Zeldris felt slightly aggrieved as Gelda led the way towards the dining room, the cat still purring contentedly in her arms as she sashayed down the hall. “I got him from Battersea,” he grumbled as he followed behind, having deposited the various bags at the door. “And for your information it was a bit of a mission. I think I should be the one to give him to Arthur…”

“Surprise!” Gelda shouted as she flung open the door, revealing a large group of people all holding glasses. The mahogany dining table was groaning with food, an absolutely enormous cake standing proudly in the centre. It was shaped like a castle, iced walls and turrets rising up proud to form three tiers of confection topped with red and green flags. “It’s Castle Camelot,” Gelda whispered into his ear as Zeldris stared at it in amazement. “You know, because he’s Arthur Pendragon. Cost me a small fortune to commission but I think it’s worth it.”

The guests were just beginning to make suitable noises in response to the cat’s appearance when, without warning, it launched itself from Gelda’s arms. Zeldris watched in horror as Cath leapt onto the table and, without hesitation, nose-dived straight into the castle cake, knocking it into pieces in an instant.

The whole thing seemed to happen in slow motion. The tall turrets fell to the table, crumbling on impact, covering the pristine white tablecloth in icing and jam. The guests looked on with horror-stricken faces, mouths open in shock and eyes wide as saucers. The previously cheerful room was now silent as the grave save for the mewls of the cat, who was devouring the cake as if he had not eaten in weeks, small globules scattering from his whiskers into the mass of golden crumbs. Zeldris felt Gelda stiffen noticeably at his side, the soft sound of her breathing betraying her perturbation; it took a lot to upset her but once she was she cried easily. He dared not turn to look into her face, sure that she would be on the point of tears.

Amidst all the commotion, his eyes caught Arthur’s and he felt terrible on seeing his boyfriend’s face was a picture of desolation. Then, suddenly, Arthur began to laugh. First, his lip twisted, a faint chuckle bubbling up before the sound built and grew into an almighty guffaw. Arthur threw his head back, tears of mirth beading the corners of his eyes as he stared at the mess which had once been the most elaborate cake ever to be constructed. Arthur was of course quick to smile, but it had been a while since he had looked quite this happy.

With some relief, Zeldris felt the change in atmosphere trickle through the room as their friends caught the mood, smiles and laughter returning as they passed bottles of wine and spirits round to replenish their drinks. Glasses clinked and jokes passed as the guests quickly retrieved their phones to capture the sight of the ruined cake. It would no doubt be the star of social media before the hour was out, along with the feline who had caused the destruction.

With some trepidation, Zeldris slipped an arm around Gelda, unsurprised to feel her tremble in his grasp. He was relieved to find that she leant into his touch. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered to her as he held her close, both arms encircling her waist as Gelda pressed her face into his shoulder. “They did say he was on a diet but I never thought…”

“That. Was. Hilarious!” Arthur said heartily, moving round the table to join them. He had managed to scoop up the cream-covered cat before it moved on to the rest of the food, depositing dairy smears and crumbs all over his jacket in the process. With a slightly apologetic look, Arthur kissed Gelda tenderly, stroking her hair with his free hand and Zeldris felt her relax against him. It was nice, comforting, the effect only slightly marred as Arthur added with unbridled enthusiasm, “I love him! What’s his name?”

“Cath,” Zeldris confirmed as the now-stuffed animal rubbed its face into Arthur’s chest, continuing to purr as if it was some sort of drilling machine. “His name is Cath. And starting now he is not allowed in the dining room.”

#nnt #zelthurweekend #zeldris #gelda #arthur #cath #zelthur #zelthurda #fanfiction #happy birthday arthur!#domestic au

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