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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years ago

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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 06 part two

(Masterpost)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Bathing Boy Beauties

So, now we and Wei Wuxian get to see Lan Wangji with his shirt off. Eventually Lan Wangji will realize that his brother set this up, and will think of some way to get back at him, possibly by spending three years being stubborn in a cave or maybe by chopping an arm off of someone his brother cares about.

This is A+ Yibo fanservice but it's also a male-male version of a trope that's ubiquitous in c-drama, in which the male lead takes a bath and the female lead sees him. The purpose of the scene is almost always so a woman can look a man’s body over and decide, not to put too fine a point on it, whether she wants to fuck him.

Examples:

The Pillow Book - “Which part of Shen Ye is better than me?”

Women’s sexual agency is not often at the forefront in c-dramas, but the bathtub scenes are an acknowledgement of the female gaze, and of male objects of desire being subject to evaluation & approval.

Tientsin Mystic is a show with a lot of muscley swimming in it, In case you’re looking for your next Netflix show.

As a CGI artist I have to mention that water does not reflect or refract 100% of light. If you look at a naked dingle-having person in a bathtub full of clear water you will definitely be able to see their dingle. But C-drama water is magic and nothing is visible below the waterline, to the point that Bai Yu is modestly covering his thoracic surgery scar chest in Detective L while leaving his lower half uncovered.

Note: that caption isn’t fake; she is really saying this on her way out the door, after having a long chat with him in the bathroom. You can find the whole series on YouTube.

Seen in this context, The Untamed’s two bathing scenes are saying quite a lot. Wei Wuxian, being a boy, doesn’t display any female-encoded shyness or modesty, but he and his sword pause for a moment of admiration.

(more after the cut!)

16 years later, Lan Wangji will sit quietly in this pool and let Wei Wuxian examine his wet body thoroughly from multiple angles, in a more prolonged invocation of this C-drama mating ritual.

Carrying on - was Xiao Zhan supposed to kick his boot in the water like that? Because if not, he rolls with it like a champ.

Wei Wuxian starts trying to be direct with Lan Wangji, giving him the worst, most neg-filled compliment ever, bless his heart.

Then he says that there are benefits to being his friend, and starts taking off his clothes.

Wei Wuxian here takes his first step into the bold new world of respecting Lan Wangji’s boundaries, asking Lan Wangji to stay and saying he will keep his clothes on.

Lan Wangji actually does stay, so he's apparently not too angry with Wei Wuxian about the drinking. Wei Wuxian invites him to visit Lotus Pier sometime (see my gifset here), but the promise of lotus pods doesn’t impress him. Then Wei Wuxian tries to tell him that the Yunmeng chicks really knock me out, they leave the rest behind. This also doesn’t impress him.

You could read this macking-on-ladies talk as a sign that Wei Wuxian is oblivious to LWJ's feelings for him. But I read it as a bisexual boy being horny on main with a boy he likes, not understanding yet that some boys don’t share all of his turn-ons.

Lan Wangji is sort of mildly startled when Wei Wuxian disappears under the water. His eye makeup is good here, isn’t it?.

Ice Cave

They end up in an ice cave and both spend the rest of the episode showing how good they look with wet hair.

When the guqin starts attacking, Lan Wangji is only mildly perturbed about Wei Wuxian getting his shit rocked over and over.

Eventually he sends Bichen to protect his very bedraggled date. Lan Wangji’s sword is faster than the speed of a very slow sound wave.

Beauty's where you find it not just where you bump and grind it

Gusuship Down

I feel like there are a couple of things in this show that are so problematic the fandom has silently agreed to never discuss them. Well, I’m here to talk about this one:

There are rabbits in this ice cave and they are wearing headbands. HEADbands. On RABBits.

EXCELLENT FUCKING QUESTION, LAN WANGJI

*deep breath*

Are these rabbits lineal Lan descendants? Who makes the headbands? How do they stay on because “headband” here means “glowing cloud on forehead” without any actual band. When rabbit babies are born, how do they stay safe while they’re waiting for someone to make them baby-sized headbands? Do these rabbits adhere to the other 3499 Lan Clan principles or just the headband one? Is any ol' rabbit allowed to touch a rabbit’s headband or is it limited to parents and significant others and is that even relevant when presumably these bunnies are all fucking each other like...bunnies?

The characters are like “oh, the rabbits are wearing headbands; killer guqin problem solved.” And then they move right the fuck along with their lives and the rabbit headbands are never seen or discussed again and I just want a hit of whatever the author or creative team was smoking when they came up with this whole idea.

Headband Sharing

When Wei Wuxian tells Lan Wangji to hand over his headband, Lan Wangji understands his entire rabbit-based thought process without asking

Gen-X Joke Alert

Wei Wuxian is awfully impressed by this sword-recall trick, considering that he did it himself when they went to the lake.

I see you know your way around a sheath

Killer Guqin

When they approach the guqin I hope that the subtitles are mistranslated, because Wei Wuxian keeps promising not to touch it and then says he can't look at it without touching it. I'm not going to touch it, I just need to touch it.

Lan Wangji is going to teach Wei Wuxian some goddamn boundaries no matter how many times he has to make him fondle his sword.

Nothing suggestive here

Lan Wangji sits down to play the guqin and immediately goes off into the ether where there are seagull noises and plenty of fans. This is either a state of pure bliss, or he just really likes seagulls.

Did Lan Wangji just have a stealth orgasm?

Speaking of getting off, get your ass off of my desk

The Yin Iron

Lan Wangji does some spirit whispering, and suddenly the cave starts yelling at them. A bunch of clans are chanting in unison about a plan, which is the cultivator version of a battle cry.

Lancestor Lan Yi shows up. She is elegant and has a combination of sweetness and gravity that is similar to Lan Xichen’s. And none of Lan Qiren’s douchiness.

Search Party

Lan Qiren is worried and Lan Xichen is worried and they have sent people to look for the boys. It's really too bad nobody around here knows magic.

All these powerful cultivators search for missing people by running around outdoors yelling for them.

Yanli is excused from PE class because she’s not feeling well, so she sits on a rock in the woods instead of, you know, staying home in the first place. She gets bored sitting down and unwisely decides to walk two or three steps. Xuan Lu, seen here competing in a gymnastics event, gamely pretends she can’t climb a small rock.

Yanli falls into Jin Zixuan's arms and they gaze at each other for a long heterosexual moment.

No homosexual explanation possible

This means two things: 1. he isn't looking very hard for her brother if he's hanging out here catching wobbly girls 2. soulful longing looks from him ain't shit, because he's going to dump her in the next episode.

Lanny Granny

Lan Wangji intros himself to Lan Yi and does a full prostrate bow. Wei Wuxian does a standing bow since he's not a descendant, just a future in-law.

No I mean come on, HEADBANDS

Lan Gran explains the entire history of the yin iron. It's bad, it's full of resentful energy, no-one should use it. She’s going to dump it on a couple of 16 year old boys, one of whom has a woody for using resentful energy, because it’s destiny and her battery is about to run out.

Props to the Prop Department; this thing does look pretty cool

Xue Chonghai was the most problematic cultivator back in the old days. He killed a lot of dudes and fed their resentment to...a turtle? To the disk? I don’t know; I literally am unable to pay attention when anyone is explaining the intricacies of the unobtanium Yin Iron.

Anyway there’s a disk and it’s soaked up a lot of resentment.

Using it makes people evil. Well except..clearly this dude started off evil, yeah? If he was feeding people to his turtle.

Side effects may include: being fucking crazy

Here Wei Wuxian brings out his "resentful energy is awesome" theory and has an experienced grown-up grand master tell him that she also thought this, and has spent 100 years locked in a cave with headband-wearing rabbits because she was super fucking wrong. Does this deter him? ...nope

Baoshan Sanren

Now she name checks Baoshan Sanren, and Wei Wuxian has a big reaction and Lan Wangji has a big noticing of Wei Wuxian’s reaction. He’s very attuned to Wei Wuxian’s emotional state, in the moments where WWX lets his actual feelings show through the sass and swagger.

Lan Gran talks about her search for the Yin iron, and Lan Wangji wisely says, if you can't neutralize it, why look for it? And she says, I was filled with hubris just like ya boi Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji points out the exact same shit he will later point out to Wei Wuxian.

So now we have a parallel in which Lan Yi is just like Wei Wuxian and Baoshan Sanren is just like Lan Wangji, yeah? Which is kind of sweet; it shows how these types are drawn together and how your clan doesn't determine your personality. Also it shows how the Lan clan has room for an unorthodox clan leader. Also it shows how the Yin Iron causes some really bad breakups.

These boys are standing on snow barefoot which has got to take a pretty high cultivation level. Look how short Lan Wangji is without his stilettos, aww.

Flashback to Baoshan Sanren, just long enough to appreciate how beautiful she is.

Did OP give up on recoloring that flashback-blue-hazed image and just start fucking around with random filters? Yes she did.

We also get to see that Lan Yi and Lan Wangji have more common than just guqin, because they both like to solve problems by kicking them.

So after breaking up with her girlfriend, Lan Gran became invisible in this cave for 100 years while trying to contain the Yin iron and put headbands on rabbits.

Soundtrack: Vogue by Madonna Writing prompt: Watership Down rabbits meet Lan rabbits

Bonus extended bath clip:

Bai Yu, Detective L

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #wangxian #the untamed gifs #the untamed meta #the untamed stills #chen qing ling #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #my gifs #cdrama #tw:cussing #more cussing than usual #that is #this is so long I can no longer edit it to fix my typos #even in html editor it won't save #good lord #must have fewer thoughts from now on #if you make it to the end there's a bonus bath gif

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years ago

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Next of Kin (Part 2)

Birds of Prey x Sionis-Zsasz!reader

warnings:

a/n: HDTVTVRBEHS IM SO SORRY I COMPLETELY ABANDONED THAT STORY OH MY GOD im gonna be honest with you guys. its not good. i forgot the original ending i wanted.

prompt:

prologue part 1

“Boss?” You heard a henchman wake you from your slumber in your own room. Opening your eyes to complete darkness, you tried not to lose your temper.

“What the hell do you want?” You asked with a huff.

“Right, uh, you told us to tell you when we had a location on those ‘Birds of Prey’ or whatever...we do.” You ripped your sleeping mask off of your eyes and bolted out from under the satin covers.

“You do?! Where? Tell me now!” You shouted while scrambling across the room to get yourself ready for this spur of the moment fight. The blue robe you wore dropped to the ground just before you pulled on a pair of pants and continued. You had to look good for this special occasion.

“A old factory, I guess. ACE or some shit.” He shrugged, looking away respectfully as you got your clothes on.

“ACE Chemicals?” You pulled the shoulder holster over your arms and covered it with a jacket, waiting for the oaf to confirm.

“Uh, I think so.” He was basically useless, an alarm clock at best. You swiped your weapons from your nightstand and pushed past him, ready to end a few lives. It was an eye for two eyes kind of situation.

“Should I call for backup?” He followed behind you as weapons were shoved into all sorts of pockets on your person, so you did what any reasonable person would do and shot him in the foot, the sweet sound of a yelp calmed your shaky nerves.

“Did I say we should call for backup? No, so don’t ask.” He dropped to the floor as he clutched onto his injured appendage, but you just kept on walking. This was personal, you were the only one who could avenge Dad and Papa Vic.

Now you were jogging to the car and stepping on the gas the moment you sat in the driver’s seat. There was no time to lose, no time at all. It was a bit relaxing to hear Britney Spears on the radio as you cut off traffic over and over again. There was a moment of contemplation when someone honked their horn at you, and I mean contemplation of murder. You were going to murder the person honking at you.

But you didn’t have time to stop. Who knows how long those little Birds would be at the factory and how long it’d be until you caught them again. So upon arrival, you ran to the trunk and pulled out the Thompson, your lovely little submachine gun.

With that rested over your shoulder, you left the car running and walked straight into the factory. There was no telling what they were doing here, but damn all the dangers of walking into a severely damaged chemical plant. You wanted your revenge, even if you didn’t make it out of here alive. Ideally, yes, you’d live the rest of your days sleeping peacefully knowing that you put your parent’s killers down, but as long as they were gone, you’d be fine with whatever may happen.

“This is officially the final step to my breakup! This is where I became ‘Harley Quinn.’” You heard a familiar annoying voice echo through the abandoned building.

“This place is starting to creep me out...” Another voice muttered, the voice of a singer. Someone who you and your family trusted until she stabbed you each in the back. God, your blood was boiling just thinking about having relations to these cruel women. But luckily for you, you were about to return a favor.

There’s one little detail I left out, you have been carrying a single hand grenade on your person since you learned about your Dad’s cause of death. It was the perfect revenge. In your head, at least. You yanked the ring with your teeth, you just had to give it a try! But grenades don’t work like that, that’s just a trope in media to made it look badass, as if a giant explosion isn’t badass enough. So you pulled the ring with all your might, this time with your fingers, and popped the pin out. The girls had yet to notice your presence, but that was about to change.

Timing was everything here: you had to give yourself time to escape, but you couldn’t give them time to escape. Maybe ypu should have thought this through before pulling the pin.

Fuck it, toss! The Birds were standing on the grates of the second floor, so there was an alerting clink when the bomb landed.

“Oh, shit!” Harley screamed and bolted. “Run for it!” As they scattered in all different directions, you spectated in excitement. The one that killed Papa Vic, the Crossbow Killer, hopped off the platform and landed on the concrete rubble below, then the sudden force of the explosion pushed them every which way. You, too, actually.

“What the hell? Who’s here?!” Canary cried as she checked her face for cuts, finding blood on her hands. Each of you was covered in dirt and grime, blood and bruises.

“Everyone okay?” The cop asked her company and heard a bundle of groans from the pack, could be worse?

Oh, it could be worse...especially once you revealed yourself to the little ragtags.

“Hi there!” You introduced. “A few of you remember me, huh? Hey, Harley, Miss Lance.” You waved with a pistol in your hand and Papa Vic’s sharp gift in the other.

“‘Course you’re here for revenge.” Harley blew a raspberry as she crossed her arms, but the rest of the group just stared at you. “You’re dads started it.”

“Wait, they were together?” Cass asked the wrong question at the wrong time.

“Shut up, kid. Love you.” Harley pushed the child out of the way and stepped forward. “So ya wanna get back at us, huh? Got it all planned out? Ya don’t have the discipline, sweetie. That’s what did your dads in.”

“Quiet!” You shouted with a haunting similarity to Roman. “Listen, I don’t need to kill all of you. I’d really love to, but I won’t.” You explained as you paced around shifting bricks. “Harley and the crossbow girl are who I really want. I thought about offing the songbird for being a narc, but if she flies away now, maybe I’ll let her go.”

“My name is Huntress.” The girl in distasteful purple makeup growled, you just had to laugh.

“I don’t give a shit what your name is, I just care how you die.” You held the blade out for her to see. “Stab my Papa through the neck, I do the same. It’s only fitting I use the knife he gave me to do it. Poetic, huh?”

“I wasn’t even the one that killed him! Technically it was the kid, tell ‘em!” Said the Joker’s ex-lady.

“Wow, thanks for throwing me under the bus!” Cassandra threw her hands up and you pointed your bedazzled gun at Harley’s chest. “Shit, look out!”

“It might not be a grenade, but it still goes ‘boom.’” You slowly tightened your finger around the trigger, but ducked and missed when a brick came flying towards you, courtesy of Little Miss Trouble.

“Fuck’s sake!” You screamed and came running towards the other target, who flipped you over her back, causing you to land on yours. I can’t even describe the noise you made.

“I had been planning to kill Victor Zsasz for years, alright? I had every right to do so.” She went off for the team to witness. “He murdered my entire family in front of me when I was a child! Do you know what it’s like to be an orphan?!” Huntress’s voice was sharp and rough, there was a slim chance that she’d be taking any more shit today.

“Yes, you idiot.” You glared up at her while she planted a foot on either side of your torso, aiming an arrow at your head. “I was adopted by Roman and Vic after they found me on the street.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that they took everything from me.” The others simply watched the show, how could they not? Helena’s stone-cold voice was chilling.

“And what do you think you did to me?” You asked with and unsteady tone. “I’m a goddamn orphan again!” You caught the back of her knee and escaped her reach for just a moment as you leveled the field by drawing your weapon once more. “I had it good before you came in and ruined it all.”

“Your fathers were the scum of the Earth, the world’s better without them.” It was a wonder how none of her team had hopped in yet, but it worked out for you. “If you thought they deserved to live, you would’ve shot me by now.”

“She’s got a point, y/n/n.” Harley chimed in, throwing you right off your rhythm. Leaving it to the psychiatrist to evaluate you during something like this. “Remember our nights at the club? I saw how controlling Romy was over ya. An’ how Vicky kept secrets. An’ how they put ya into some really uncomfortable situations an’ whatnot. I dunno what when on behind closed doors, but...admit it, y/n, it wasn’t as perfect as ya make it out ta be.”

“They did their best.” You watched each face turn to pity you, it broke you all over again. “Fuck! Fuck you guys!” You dropped your guard and pouted at how easily manipulated you could be.

“That’s more like it.” Renee chuckled as Dinah walked past her. Dinah had seen just as much as Harley, that’s why she went right up to you and took you in her arms.

“You should stick with us for a while. I promise we aren’t that bad.”

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove //

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kirishimas-manly-eyeliner · 4 years ago

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➹ PROMPT LIST [ 200 ] ➷

200 prompts-ish for 200 followers ( event closes on 3/27/21! )

fandoms: boku no hero academia + haikyuu!! rules are here

rules: pick one trope, up to two dialogue prompts, genre is optional, and for formatting, if you don’t write it, i’ll do whatever i think fits best! anything works, bby, go for whatever you’d like!

to clarify for song prompts: i usually just base my ideas off of the song instead of writing in the actual lyrics in the fic, but i can write this in songfic format if you’d like!

* = mandatory

➳ “ tropes/AUs „

1. enemies to lovers

2. and then they were roommates (i expect someone to say the next part)

3. coffee shop au <3

4. body swap

5. arranged marriage

6. blind date

7. sharing a bed

8. royalty au

9. high school au

10. college au

11. they hurt you

12. zombie apocalypse

13. major character death

14. love triangle

15. hurt/comfort

16. hanahaki

17. rivals to lovers

18. amnesia

19. sick reader/character

20. other!

➳ “ dialogue prompts* „

21. “can you just... hold me? please?”

22. “you’re gonna catch a cold.”

23. “shut up and kiss me.”

24. “i trusted you!”

25. “no no no, please don’t cry,”

26. “a hotdog is not a sandwich!”

27. “i know you meant every last word.”

28. “...can we, uh, do that hug thing again?”

29. “nononono, stay with me, come on, wake up!”

30. “i forbid you to die, you hear me? i forbid you to die!”

31. “shhhh.. just breathe with me, okay?”

32. “aw, you’re adorable. now shut up, idiot.”

33. “are you- wait, shut up- shut UP, are you blushing right now? that’s so cute!”

34. “don’t even try to double-back, i already despiiiise you.”

35. “babe, i’m in a meeting! just- shh, go back into your room.”

36. “why didn’t you tell me sooner?!”

37. “no, how about you shut up for once?”

38. “it’s not even that hard! you carry the x variable to the other side. then you divide it to isolate the variable.” “mhm. yeah. okay, i get it.” “i- are you even paying attention??” “...probably not.”

39. “it’s raining again?”

40. “don’t- don’t touch me, get away from me, get away from me!”

41. “you have the most beautiful eyes i’ve ever seen.”

42. “but that’s the best part?? i don’t- i don’t understand???”

43. “are you... crying?”

44. “babe, you’re having a nightmare, it’s okay,”

45. “i hate you.”

46. “i-i i didn’t mean it! i didn’t think you’d actually leave!”

47. “hey, it’s just me, shhh... it’s just me. you’re okay. you’re okay.”

48. “would you even care if i died? no, be honest, would you?”

49. “we go down together.”

50. “I HATE YOU! I trusted you, I sacrifced everything for you, and what do I get in return?”

51. “hold on for me, okay?”

52. “c’mere. i’ve been told that i give the best cuddles, hope i live up to your expectations!”

53. “i love you.”

54. “i’m just... tired of being tired.”

55. “i loved you, you know that?”

56. “say it, say something, say you hate me!”

57. “you have the most beautiful voice.”

58. “aaaah, you’re going to look fabulous!”

59. “hey, i’m (name) but you can call me anytime ;)”

60. “...why are you wearing my makeup?”

61. “I’M BUYING YOU A CROP-TOP, END OF DISCUSSION.”

62. “hi, i don’t care. shut up before i gouge your eyes out and shove them down your throat so you can see me rip out your heart.

63. “we shouldn’t be doing this. oh boy. we shouldn’t be doing this.”

64. “help me! i’m sorry, okay? just get me out of here!”

65. “i hope that golden metal on your neck was worth the price of losing me.”

66. “you sing?? I DIDN’T KNOW THAT-”

67. “nonono, these are battle scars! you must have fought a lot of battles, but you are my hero. okay?”

68. “...that’s my idiot. one sec.”

69. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) "i’m not allowed to sneak out, moron.”

70. “will you marry me?”

➳ “ genres/themes „

71. angst

72. comfort

73. reverse comfort

74. breakup

75. fluff

76. hurt/comfort

77. first time meeting

78. established relationship

79. reuniting

80. argument

➳ “ formatting* „

81. headcanon to fic

82. headcanon to blurb

83. full-fledged fanfic

84. headcanons

85. blurbs

86. one-shot

87. imagine + moodboard + playlist

88. if you’re okay with anything, just be sure to put that in your ask! <3

➳ “ songfics/prompt ideas „

89. say you won’t let go -> james arthur

90. heaven knows -> five for fighting

91. this is home -> cavetown

92. perfect -> ed sheeran

93. this side of paradise -> coyote theory

94. heather -> conan gray

95. line without a hook -> ricky montgomery

96. arcade -> duncan laurence

97. ballerina -> jeremy shada

98. riptide -> vance joy

99. someone you loved -> lewis capaldi

100. idk you yet -> alexander 23

101. a thousand years -> christina perri

102. love story -> taylor swift

103. i love you -> billie eilish

104. jar of hearts -> christina perri

105. castle -> halsey

106. lucky -> jason mraz, colbie caillat

107. thinking out loud -> ed sheeran

108. mr loverman -> ricky montgomery

109. the one that got away (cries in bokuaka) -> katy perry

110. she -> dodie

111. sunkissed -> khai dreams

112. train wreck -> james arthur

113. stranger -> jeremy shada

114. king -> lauren

115. wish you were sober -> conan gray

116. falling for u -> peachy!, mxmtoon

117. unlove -> lyle kam

118. coffee -> beabadoobee

119. lovesick girls -> blacpink

120. spring day -> btw

121. dancing with your ghost -> sasha sloan

122. you broke me first -> tate mcrae

123. drivers license -> olivia rodrigo

124. if the world was ending -> JP saxe, julie michaels

125. hold on -> extreme music or chord overstreet

126. ocean eyes -> billie eilish

127. when we were young -> adele

128. ghost of you -> five seconds of summer

129. i like me better -> lauv

130. pierre -> ryn weaver

lmao i know a lot of songs (as you can see), so if you have any suggestions, lmk bby!

➳ “ characters i prefer to write for „

(but don’t be afraid to request others!! i still love writing for any, these are just the ones that make it easiest for me to write for :D please keep in mind that i’m not completely caught up with haikyuu!!)

131. literally all of karasuno istg

132. kiyoko, yachi, keishin yukai

133. tetsuro kuroo, taketora yamamoto, kenma kozume, lev haiba, so inuoka

134. toru oikawa, hajime iwaizumi

135. kotaro bokuto, keiji akaashi

136. katsuki bakugo, eijiro kirishima, denki kaminari, hanta sero, mina ashido

137. izuku midoriya, shoto todoroki, ochako uraraka, tenya iida

138. aizawa, hawks

139. hitoshi shinsou

140. dabi, shigaraki

lol sorry couldn’t get to 200-

BUT JOIN MY TAG LIST IF YOU’RE SWAG <3

request here!

#till next time <333 #200 followers event: open!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha hcs #mha hcs #bnha headcanons #my hero academia headcanons #boku no hero academia #bnha imagines

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spiderman-homecomeme · 3 years ago

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breakup and makeup for the tropes??👀

oh now THIS??

This is an A. an A+ even.

I love it in almost all forms. Angsty or funny!! It's all about the journey and the growth for the two to come back together! And the pining and heartache that can come from this?? From two people who have already been in love at some point, who have already felt those feelings? AH!! the fluff that comes from this is *chef's kiss*

that being said the make-up does have to happen (it also has to be earned!!) bc again, i'm a weenie who can't handle an unhappy/ambiguous ending.

Also i feel like the initial break-up can't be for an unforgivable reason (see: person A cheats on person B and vice versa, etc.) but something that they can get past

send me a fanfic trope and i'll grade it!

#ask games #lunannex #thank u!!!

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kafka-ish · 5 years ago

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the act of being a boy-friend | r.t.

y/n’s plan to make her crush, or ex crush, jealous backfires when she realizes she’s been the jealous one all along.

word count: 6.7k

warnings/included: fluff, losers aren’t friends anymore, fem!reader

a/n: i just rlly love writing love triangles hgeoigso also fake dating tropes ftw🥳

“What’s ruh-ruh-wrong? Juh-juh-hust tell me what I can do, and I’ll ff-fix it.” Bill sat next to y/n on his worn sofa. The two were watching a movie but he couldn’t put a pin on what was wrong until he noticed y/n wasn’t making her usual commentary. y/n always talked whenever they got together to watch a movie—either letting her petty remarks be known to the rest of the viewers or judging the style choice. And if she wasn’t talking, her face was stuffed full of popcorn or sour candy.

But y/n wasn’t doing either of those things.

She sat in a ball—her bare feet on his couch and her kneecaps digging into her stomach. Her eyes were wide and focused on the screen ahead of them that blared ET. Her nails that were in tip-top condition when she first showed up to Bill’s house, neatly trimmed and polished with a layer of topcoat were now bitten to the bed, ragged and raw.

“Why would you think something’s wrong?” y/n said, surprised that she was able to even squeak out the words after zoning out for so long. Something was wrong. But it wasn’t like y/n would tell him. This is what she wanted, right? Just the two of them—Bill’s arm wrapped around her while she pressed into his side while the only light in the room came from his television set.

So why did everything feel so wrong?

Richie and y/n had dated two months prior. Well… ‘dated’. The relationship wasn’t real, but the butterflies whenever Richie called her a dumb pet name or kissed her on the cheek (because kissing on the lips was too far) certainly felt real. And the heartbreak that came from him talking about other girls felt more real than the time y/n got stood up at the eighth-grade dance.

“I don’t wanna be your fuckin’ boyfriend,” Richie protested. His mouth was full of the turkey club sandwich he snagged from a detention buddy and his perfectly straight nose was now scrunched in disgust at the absurd idea his friend had to offer.

“I don’t get why you’re being so pissy about this.” y/n took the sandwich from him, taking a bite of her own and cringing at the taste of mustard that was hidden under the lettuce.

“Grow up.” Richie laughed at y/n who was using a napkin to wipe the tangy aftertaste off her tongue. “You know.” He took another bite. “This sorta shit never ends well.”

“What shit?” y/n prodded. She was still hooked on the idea of getting Richie to play house with her.

“The game where you and I pretend to be boyfriend and girlfriend and eventually one of us falls for each other.” Richie was taking an oddly rational approach to y/n’s suggestion. But Richie was logical in a sense where he just knew.

“Who says I’d fall for you?” y/n poked at his shoulder. One of her eyebrows raised because in what world would she let herself catch feelings for Richie Tozier?

In this world. In this lifetime, y/n would let herself fall for one of her best friends, only to be dating her longtime crush.

“How could you not?” Richie smirked but y/n could tell he was just joking. “I’m irresistible, love.” His stupid British-man Voice made yet another appearance and y/n had to refrain from hitting him.

“What about me?” y/n didn’t care whether or not Richie found her attractive, but to say his response never left her mind after that day would be an understatement.

“Well, just look at you.” Richie put the sandwich down. “If it’s anyone, I’ll be having a harder time.”

“So does that mean you’ll go through with it?” A new light hit y/n’s eyes; the sparkle almost blinding Richie who was shaking his head.

“I don’t get why you’re so hung up about this.” He sighed. y/n could tell he was getting annoyed, but y/n was also persistent. If she wanted something, she’d get it; careless about the lengths she’d have to go through for her fantasies to become a truth. Her truth.

“I’m just saying there are benefits for both of us.” y/n’s head tilted to the side, trying to get a better glimpse at Richie now gnawing at his lunch like an animal.

“Benefits?” Richie asked mid-bite.

“Yeah. I can make Bill Denbrough jealous and he’ll fall madly in love with me. Same for you and your ex.”

“Bill Denbrough?” Richie ignored the mention of his ex-girlfriend. He was fifty-percent sure he was already over her, but the other fifty percent of him still stole glances in her direction and kept a copy of her school picture in his wallet. But Bill Denbrough? y/n had a crush on the Bill Denbrough? Richie had to take a moment for his ears to adjust to this staggering news.

Bill Denbrough was a baseball player and Richie’s old childhood friend. Him, Bill, Stan Uris (who was coincidentally also on Derry’s baseball team), Mike Hanlon (who didn’t play baseball but football), Ben Hanscom (he was on the track team), Eddie Kaspbrak, and Beverly Marsh were all a group back in middle school. And Bill and Richie went way back—back to elementary school. It was until the end of freshman year when Stan tried out for baseball (Bill tagged along but made the team anyway) and Mike brought up how he wanted to go out for football next year.

Everyone’s interests started to diverge. Everyone started to diverge. They still went to Mike’s games at the beginning of their sophomore year, but their lunches together only seemed to happen on Wednesday and their afternoon hangouts at the quarry turned into just Richie smoking puffs on the edge; the only company being his portable radio.

Richie befriended y/n sophomore year, around the same time he and his friends fizzed out in January’s crisp air. He met her in his new art class when Derry High released students’ new schedules for the second semester. They’d stayed friends ever since; sharing their lunches and staying after school to finish up on a Social Studies project that wasn’t worth the grade they received. y/n was the one to comfort Richie after his breakup with Vanessa Jennings, but this was the first Richie had ever heard of y/n’s crush on Bill. He didn’t even know she knew Bill.

“You like Bill Denbrough?”

y/n nodded. “So, what do you say? Partner…”

Richie gave in. Although it wasn’t in his interest to get back with Vanessa, he’d still go along with y/n’s scheme.

He’d pick her up at her house before school at seven o’clock sharp—whether it was in his dad’s old Chevy or by foot in his red Converse.

y/n rushed to her front door as soon as she heard a ring. Her hair was half done, and she hadn’t had enough time to do her makeup yet. Luckily, she was already dressed in her school clothes—the denim of her jeans scuffing together when she walked, and her red blouse having to be pulled down every time she rose her arms.

“Morning, sugar.” Richie’s lazy grin and tired eyes never failed to bring a smile on her face even before they started ‘dating’. His hair wasn’t brushed at all, making y/n feel better about her appearance. His body leaned slanted against the doorframe while he waited for her and the white tip of his Converse made its attempt to dig into the porch.

“Sugar?” y/n asked, bemused. She grabbed her keys from the table next to the door, using them to lock the door behind her.

“You look different today.” y/n’s head raised from its once concentrated position from the lock on her door.

“Different how?” She inquired, mostly wondering if this difference was a good or bad thing.

“You look good.” y/n’s cheeks couldn’t help but heat at the compliment. Richie was always calling her cutesy names or saying shit like actually, now that my glasses are on, your ass does look good in those jeans. This should be no different, right?

It only felt different because they were… an item is what y/n convinced herself somewhere along the drive to school. Richie opened the door for her when she got in (and out), but in return, she’d have to let him play his favorite station.

“it’s only courtesy, babe.” Richie shrugged but his eyes kept on the road. “I scratch your back, you scratch mine.”

But two weeks in, y/n found out she liked what this rock ‘n roll guy had to offer. She liked the loud beat of the drum and how the guitar sang in her ears. She liked Richie’s voice that overpowered Elvis’s when he sang along to the lyrics, knowing every word by heart.

“I don’t get why you’re taking me anywhere,” y/n said. She sat in the passenger’s seat of his car like she usually did. “We don’t have to pretend unless we’re, like, in public.” Her voice became small, almost regretting the words that came out of her mouth. Secretly, she hoped Richie wouldn’t turn the 1965 Chevrolet Camaro around.

“It’s not like we aren’t friends.” Richie’s thumb made a tap, tap, tapping sound against the steering wheel. “Friends hang out, right?”

y/n smiled but didn’t answer. It never occurred to her that they weren’t dating. After a while, it just seemed so natural; the hand holding under lunch tables; the way he held her binder for her.

“Is that heavy, sweetheart?” Richie stood next to y/n, intently watching as she struggled with her books in one arm: her other hand turning the combination lock. His gaze never left her figure. He was thoughtful, caring…

“Kind of, but you don’t need to—”

Ignoring y/n, Richie took the books from her hold. He already had books of his own to carry, but he couldn’t let his girlfriend struggle with hers.

“Yeah… friends.” y/n couldn’t seem to face him while uttering the words. Friends. The declaration felt so distant. After all, they had been more than friends—or pretending to be more than friends. But at the end of the day, y/n didn’t know if she wanted to be just friends with Richie Tozier. That was new considering, she never saw Richie as something else. Something that greeted her with flowers before school and held open the door for her. Not until now, no. Richie was always… Richie.

Richie Tozier who was always caught doing his homework last minute in art—because that’s the easiest class, babe. Richie Tozier who liked detention because he could catch up on a few extra minutes of lost beauty sleep. Richie Tozier who stopped bringing his lunch to school because you’re the only sugar I need.

y/n rolled the window down, letting a breeze sweep through her hair and tickle her skin. She needed a distraction because the recent epiphany of the boy next to her being the reason for her heart palpitations was something to need a distraction from.

The sky bled orange and purple—the colors perfectly melted into one another—and y/n wondered if this wasn’t their world after all. Maybe they were being controlled and the puppeteer behind her was playing some sick joke by making her catch feelings for Richie Tozier. y/n didn’t even notice they came to a stop until the click of Richie’s seatbelt grabbed her ears from their trance.

“You comin’?” Richie asked from outside of her side of the car. He was hunched down, his forearm resting on the door to help prop him up.

“Yeah.” y/n swallowed but it hurt. It felt like acid ripped through her esophagus but the only thing she had to drink that day was water. She reached for the door handle, but Richie was faster, already opening the door himself. “Such a gentleman,” y/n snickered.

“Of course.” Richie stayed behind to lock the doors.

“So, you drove me, just a friend, all the way out to the best milkshakes in town?” y/n asked, eyeing the neon-lit sign that read

Hwy 90

The highway to your stomach.

They served other things, but they specialized in milkshakes—something neither Richie nor y/n would care to pass up. But nothing y/n would drive thirty minutes for just for some glorified ice cream in a glass.

“It’s the least I could do.” Richie opened the door for y/n once again. The entrance door to the diner made a jingling sound as the top corner hit the bells which hung from the ceiling.

“The least you could do?” y/n wondered aloud, but Richie wasn’t given the chance to answer her question when a waitress scurried up to them, a stack of menus in one arm and a bundle of silverware in the other. She was taller than y/n but shorter than Richie and she wore black and white bowling shoes to match the wide-legged jeans and polo underneath her apron. “Is it just you two?” She asked sweetly, hiking the pile of menus up higher on her arm.

“Yeah,” Richie said. He stuffed his hands in his back pocket, not knowing where to put them.

The waitress showed them to a small booth that sat in the corner of the brightly lit restaurant. It was too bright for y/n’s eyes under the red, blue, and pink hues that reflected across the shiny white tile, But the corner table the girl had brought them to would do. There was a certain coziness to it, or maybe it was the thought of sitting so close to Richie in a public setting that settled y/n’s eyes.

“I’m Annie. I’ll be your server today,” the girl said as soon as Richie and y/n slid into their respective sides of the red pleather seats. She was fast-talking and all shades of nervousness as her left hand went to grab the number two pencil that fastened the blonde curls that were pinned in a knot on top of her head. “Can I get you anything?”

“A menu would be nice,” y/n said. In front of them sat a table, salt and pepper shakers, and a half-empty Heinz ketchup bottle. Annie had forgotten to give the two a menu.

“My apologies!” She exclaimed, bashful. She handed them each a menu to sift through.

“Don’t sweat it.” Richie winked in her direction and y/n felt herself grow… what was that? Anger? Annie’s pale skin blushed a bright red and y/n could tell it wasn’t the apron making her feel hot.

It took Richie a full-fledged thirty seconds and two skims through the laminated paper for him to decide what he wanted, and it took y/n at least two minutes. “I’ll have a Cookies n Cream. Extra sweet.” Just like you.

y/n was biting her thumb and still reading over the same three flavors that caught her eye while Annie stood patiently waiting for her response. Richie was messing with the saltshaker. His leg found hers under the table and gave it a quick kick.

“Ouch.” She looked up from the menu, averting her attention to the boy in front of her with a fix glare. “Can I have Vanilla? With a cherry on top?”

Annie scribbled down both of their orders in messy writing before making her way across the floor and to the kitchen.

“Vanilla?” Richie laughed and y/n didn’t know what was so funny. “’Cause you’re vanilla?” He covered his mouth with his hand before another fit of laughter would consume the table.

“Shut up.” Swiftly, y/n’s leg propelled into his which caused Richie’s laughs to die down, replaced by a single yelp.

“So…” Richie’s eyebrows wiggled. His nails, which were painted a shade of deep blue by y/n and already chipped, thumped against the surface of the table. y/n could tell whatever he was beginning to suggest wouldn’t be something she liked just from the tone of his voice.

“So?”

“Why Bill?” Oh.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She knew exactly what he meant.

“Why do you like ole Big Bill?” The nickname had slipped out unconsciously. The nickname Richie hadn’t heard in years. The nickname Richie hadn’t said in years. It felt exotic on his lips, but comforting, like a hug from his mom.

Why did she like Bill? y/n asked herself silently. She was gnawing on the inside of her cheek when the question popped up again and the sound of Bill’s voice startled her.

“What’s ruh-ruh-wrong? Juh-juh-hust tell me what I can do, and I’ll ff-fix it.” What was wrong? Seemingly, everything was perfect. The boy y/n had been crushing on for years was finally in her reach—her grasp, even. Bill’s head turned to face y/n, but his arm stayed tightly coiled around her side. It wasn’t the same as Richie’s possessive hold from two months ago. His hand that played with the fabric of her shirt felt cold. Bill felt cold.

It couldn’t be that she missed Richie, no. Richie was busy—probably swapping spit with one Vanessa Jennings. Vanessa with the light brown hair and curls that framed her not-too-big head ever so perfectly. Vanessa who never needed a tan. Vanessa with the long legs that were probably wrapped—

But it didn’t matter. y/n was busy, too. The Bill Denbrough was at her side and she couldn’t have asked for anything else. She didn’t need anything else. Not when his red flannel hugged her torso because are you could? My parents won’t let me turn up the heat, but I can offer you this. Like a gentleman, he proceeded to strip the flannel from his bodice, leaving him in a white baseball tee.

“Why would you think something’s wrong?” y/n looked at Bill then looked down to see the nails she had just painted were now ruined. She looked up again. “Nothing’s wrong,” she assured, not all convincingly.

“You just… yo-you ha-haven’t-t s-s-said anything since you cuh-cuh-walked in.”

“I haven’t?” y/n asked, now picking at the tip of her thumb, hoping what had taken two weeks to grow out would magically regrow in seconds. Saving his voice, Bill only shook his head.

“You nuh-know you can tuh-tell me. Ruh-right?” y/n nodded but what could she tell him?

Sorry I’ve been holding a massive crush on you for years like one holds a cleaver over their head but all of a sudden I’m into this guy I met in my art class who never brushes his hair and writes ‘smoking and smoking hot’ on his college resume.

“I think I’m just tired,” she lied while also feigning a yawn. She covered her mouth when it opened, pretending to be sleepy.

“Do-do you want me to tuh-take you home?” Bill asked. He was just as thoughtful as Richie. He was just as handsome as Richie, maybe even more. So why couldn’t y/n bring herself to like him as much as Richie? His arm left from her side and he used it to pick up the remote, turning the tv off. The worst part was, that when Bill’s hand stopped playing with the fabric of the flannel she wore and his arm left her frame, she didn’t feel a coldness that would usually wash over her when Richie’s arm left her. She felt free.

“I don’t want our afternoon to be spoiled,” y/n said. Her eyebrows furrowed and even though she knew she was lying through her teeth, she wanted to make this work. After all these years of pining for her study partner and favorite Derry High baseball player, she needed for this to work. To see the vision she’d created in her head, just a mere two years ago, collapse in front of her very eyes broke her. But at the same time, she was indifferent. Why should she care about the boy in front of her when the boy she actually wanted was a neighborhood away?

“Tr-trust me. It-it’s not.” Bill shrugged. He stood up and offered y/n his hand which she didn’t take. Instead, she sat there, planted in her same seat, waiting for him to continue. “I can tuh-take you home. And wuh-we can hang out to-tomorrow. You nuh-know when you’re well rested.” All of the sudden, this felt very real. Hanging out with Bill felt real. Being at his house felt real. And though his efforts were valiant, y/n couldn’t accept the offer.

A smile graced her lips and Bill mirrored that. “Yeah, okay. Uh, take me home—please.”

y/n stood up and Bill guided her to the door and to Zach Denbrough’s car as if she hadn’t had the place memorized from when she first came over for a History project they’d been assigned to do.

What did she ever see in him?

“I don’t know.” y/n’s shoulders bopped up and down and even though her figure was hunched, Richie still thought she looked graceful.

“Are you just sayin’ that or did you end up falling in love with little ole me and you can’t think of anything?” Just then, their milkshakes arrived. Both in frosted glass and both with a cherry on top. A feeling of relief swallowed the lump in her throat, or maybe that was the taste of vanilla ice cream now that she was given some time, and a reason, to stall. y/n hated how on-the-nose Richie could be. But she also loved that about him. He could be so, so unexpectedly smart about some things. Things that were right in front of her that she’d never even notice until Richie pointed it out. “Oh, come on.” Richie’s words would’ve sliced through the silence in the air if it weren’t for the chatter of other people and jukebox playing in the background. “Seriously, y/n/n, there’s gotta be something that drew you to him.”

“Well… he’s nice.”

“Okay cut the crap.”

“What?” y/n asked, finding herself annoyed that she not only had to reveal her feelings to a boy she may or may not like but also because he’s nice apparently wasn’t a sufficient enough answer.

“I need an actual answer. Not some bullshit response like he’s nice or he’s funny. Anyone can be nice or funny, y/n.”

“Well, whether you like it or not, Bill is nice. He’s genuine, and cares about the people around him… Selfless.”

Richie was upset at her response. Not because y/n countered his argument in a way he was left speechless but because she was right. Bill was the nice guy and Richie… wasn’t. Bill was the one who looked out for others, making sure they were okay. He was the one who made sure no one got left behind. He was the one everyone looked up to—not Richie, Bill. It was always Bill. Whereas Richie’s just the guy who stands in the background making funny noises only to be told to shut up.

“Yeah… Bill is nice.”

“Don’t tell me you’re my competition, Tozier.” y/n laughed at the oddity of fighting with Richie for the chance to be with Bill.

“Nah,” Richie shook his head, his hair flying in any direction possible. “You’re lucky I’m not, though. You wouldn’t have the chance, babe.”

y/n wanted to eat her heart out at the usage of babe in such an informal setting where they didn’t have to pretend, but the maraschino cherry resting on top of the pile of whipped cream would suffice. “Do you still like Vanessa?” The words tumbled from y/n’s mouth like they were nothing. But embarrassment replaced the blood flowing through her veins once she was aware of what she just said.

“It’s… complicated,” Richie said honestly, not caring that y/n might’ve crossed boundaries just then.

“What’s complicated?” y/n cocked her head like a puppy questioning why its master was making weird hand motions.

“You’ll understand when you’re older, kid.” Richie didn’t mean to come off as condescending, but he did.

“I’m the same age as you.” y/n crossed her arms after pushing away the half-empty, frosted glass in front of her.

Ignoring the red straw in his drink, Richie brought the edge of the glass to his lips and swallowed the thick shake. “Here’s the thing. Vanessa and I go way back.”

“How far is way back if you only dated her for four months?” y/n regretted even bringing her up. Maybe it was different back then, back when the two were actually dating. But now, y/n couldn’t remember a time when someone said the name ‘Richie Tozier’ and her heart didn’t feel like it would explode into a collision of fireworks.

“Four and a half,” Richie corrected with a grin breaking out on his lips. “But I dunno. She’s just special.”

“Special as in…?” y/n probed, and she hated herself for her big mouth that wouldn’t stop applying lemon juice to an obviously open wound.

“I love her.” Richie took another drink of Cookies n Cream, which was more cream than cookies, and y/n sat there in shock. She would be silly to think that after all these weeks, Richie would feel the same way about her. After all, he had a life outside of the fake one they’d construed. Or maybe Richie was just less emotionally confined to these sorts of things. He knew better than to get caught up in a fake relationship. Of course he would.

But knowing Richie still loved his ex, struck something in y/n’s core. And the fact that he was able to say it in such a nonchalant manner—such casualty—only dug deeper at the pit in her stomach.

“You love her?” y/n asked, her mouth still full of the sweet treat he’d pay for later in the evening.

“Love. Loved.” Richie shrugged like this was nothing—well, maybe this was nothing. Maybe y/n was the speck of dust on his shirt and him shrugging was the last of her existence from his being leaving. “What’s the difference?”

“There’s a big difference.” y/n wanted to scream. Luckily, she had enough self-perseverance to keep her composure. She swallowed. “One is past tense, and one is present tense.”

“How ‘bout I put it this way.” Richie set aside his drink so now nothing was blocking his view of y/n. He leaned forward and rested his hands on the table. “I don’t like…” He paused. Revealing that he had no intention in getting back with his once first love would possibly wreck this whole thing. “If Vanessa asked, I’d probably get back with her,” Richie finally said, thinking that must’ve been a suitable way to word the jumble of letters floating around in his head like alphabet soup.

“You would?” y/n asked, feeling like a little kid all over again.

Richie didn’t say anything.

“Do you and her still…”

“Still what?”

“Talk, I guess is what I’m trying to say.” y/n messed with her fingers, pulling at a hangnail she’d know she’d regret doing when it got to later in the night.

“Nah. But don’t worry about it, sweets.” Richie took out his wallet only to be met with a picture of the dreaded girl they’d just been talking about. He gulped. His spit tasted like Oreos and he knew he’d have a stomachache later. Richie thumbed out a ten-dollar bill and five ones to keep Alexander Hamilton company. “Ole Vanessa could never get in the way of you if that’s what you’re wonderin’.”

It was what she was wondering.

But she’d never let Richie know that. y/n crossed her arms tighter around her torso because right now it felt like Richie could see right through her.

Richie drove her home in the same way Bill would a month from that night. But Richie had a better taste in music and y/n was actually sad to part from him when he left her at her doorstep.

“I’m really sorry I had to cut our time short,” y/n said. She was sorry.

“It’s ff-fine. I al-already sai—”

“Yeah, but I feel awful, Bill.” y/n finally mucked up the courage to look him in the eye. Those blue eyes that’d been searching for hers all afternoon. “This was probably like… the worst first date in the history of first dates.”

“Ih-it’s not so bad. But that duh-depends on how muh-many first dates you’ve been on.” Bill laughed and y/n was trying to figure out what was funny about what he said.

“You’ve been on worse ones?” y/n asked anxiously.

“Luh-let’s just say th-they duh-didn’t get a second date.”

y/n nodded while her hands started to search for the keys in her purse.

“I’ll ss-see you tuh-tomorrow?”

“Or at my funeral. Whichever comes first.” For a moment, the bad thoughts cleared from the surface of y/n’s head. Laughter was the only thing she was aware of for a moment.

“Bye, y/n/n.”

“Bye, Richie,” y/n said bashfully. Her hands were strewn behind her back because she didn’t know what they would do if they weren’t. He was about to walk off—off into the moonlight. And y/n would have to wait until Monday to see him again. It was one day too long because she knew even though the two of them had nothing better to do tomorrow, he’d see it as just friends whereas y/n would see it… differently. “Richie, wait!”

“What?” Richie turned around. His hands sat inside of his front pockets and his posture was slumped, as always.

“Thanks… for tonight.” Richie nodded, and validation from him served as a sick kind of ego booster that egged y/n to keep going. “They really are the best milkshakes in town.”

“Yeah.” Richie’s scratchy voice soothed y/n under the frosty air that came from winters in Maine. y/n stepped closer, her hands still behind her back.

“Did you have a good time?”

“You know I always have a good time when I’m with you.” Richie nudged y/n’s elbow with his but was taken aback by her hands that now gripped his shoulders and how suddenly close she was against him.

y/n kissed him on the cheek, not daring to go for his lips because who’s ever heard of a kiss goodbye on the cheek? Is probably what Stacy Howards would retort back to her after she’d spill the happenings of Saturday night to Derry High’s favorite cheerleader in study hall.

His cheek tasted like salt and Irish Spring—that is, if she knew what Irish Spring tasted like. Which she definitely didn’t.

She didn’t linger long. Richie wished she stayed longer. The kiss was short and sweet and the taste of vanilla on her lips replaced a fraction of his cheek that tasted like body wash and sodium chloride.

“Goodnight,” y/n said, now finally coming to her senses.

“Ye-yeah.” Richie blinked, an alternative to pinching himself in front of the girl he’d been pretending to date. “Night.” But after pretending for so long, Richie couldn’t help but notice the less it felt like pretending.

y/n closed the door behind her with a slam, making sure to lock it in case intruders were in the neighborhood. Now that Bill was gone, her first instinct was to call up Richie—tell him that the date went well, and how he was such a great friend, and thanks for the help. But there were only so many times she could lie to a boy she felt feelings so deeply for. The first, coincidentally, was when Richie had asked how things were going with Bill.

“Make any progress so far?” Richie asked with a face full of ham. They were eating lunch together, per usual. But this time, unlike the many times before, the hand that wasn’t holding his sandwich was rubbing circles on y/n’s small hand that Richie’s swallowed.

“Comme ci comme ça.” y/n smiled to herself at her basic understanding any French One student would master. “It’s going alright…” y/n had never been a natural liar. Whenever she told her parents she had cleaned her room when she, in fact, didn’t, the hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention and her forearm broke out in an itch she could never quite scratch. But her internal biological workings had given her a break today. There was no itch and her hairs stayed in place from when she styled her hair that morning.

“What’s alright?” Richie questioned, though it sounded more like an interrogation.

“He started talking to me more.”

“He didn’t already talk to you?” Richie’s eyebrow rose because how were you supposed to fall for a guy you barely talked to?

“Well, yeah, he talks to me.” The pad of Richie’s thumb that was drawing slow circles onto y/n’s knuckles turned into lines. Back and forth. Back and forth. “But he used to talk to me about classwork and… you know, like, school.” Richie smiled when she talked. He was happy for his friend. He truly was. But he couldn’t stand the fact that the guy she was talking about wasn’t him—let alone, his former best friend. “And in APUSH, instead of asking about my grade or whatever, he… asked about me.”

“What’d Mister Charming have to say?”

Mister Charming sat two seats away from y/n. But that didn’t stop him from talking to her. Every now and then, Bill would steal glances at the girl from his peripheral vision. Sometimes, if he were feeling bold, he’d turn to face her—but that action only occurred when she was speaking. Today, however, was different. Today he’d talk to her.

Lucky for Bill, the pencil sharpener sat in the back of class—close to where y/n’s seat was.

“Hey.”

y/n looked up from her textbook. She didn’t want to assume the hushed voice was for her—but she had to figure the tap on her shoulder was.

“Hi.” She set her pencil down and folded her arms flat on the desk. “What’s up?” y/n swore she sounded insane. Who says what’s up—

“Th-the sky.” Bill’s smile made cloudy days seem cloudless. “I was wuh-wondering ih—” He swallowed the trail of saliva that gathered in the back of his throat. “If… are yo-you and Ruh-Richie like…”

“No!” y/n said quickly and a little too loudly.

“Good.”

“Good?”

“Muh-maybe we cuh-could hang out… This Saturday work?” A stroke of nervousness flitted across his features for a second even though Bill didn’t have anything to be nervous about. The rest of y/n’s words got caught in her throat and she instinctively found herself writing down her number on the scratch piece of paper Mr. Ferguson passed out for notetaking.

“Call me.”

Bill did call. Which was precisely how y/n was stuck frozen in time; her back slanted against the door and her thoughts racing against one another.

She had two options at hand. Call Richie. Find Richie. Or wait it out for tomorrow when Bill’s same car would be in her driveway, waiting for her.

But a third option was already at y/n’s doorstep, contemplating ringing the doorbell.

Richie Tozier stood outside of y/n’s front door, palms sweaty and unusually anxious for confrontation. His pale fingers knotted together. It was their way of stalling from interacting with y/n for as long as possible—or as long as curfew would allow him to.

“Hey.” His stalling attempt was left unsuccessful when y/n opened the door. Ironically, he was just the person she had hoped to run into. “What are… what are you doing?”

“Me?” Richie’s eyebrows stitched together, and he pointed to himself with his index finger.

“You’re the only one here,” y/n deadpanned.

“I was just in the neighborhood, y’know. Doin’ neighborly things.”

“You don’t live in this neighborhood.” Richie feigned laughter but this time y/n didn’t laugh with him. “Seriously, Rich, why are you here? You knew I had my date with Bill and—”

“And what?” His tone grew firm, like it had grabbed her by the hand and urged whatever was eating at her insides out of her.

“And I don’t think you should be here, after I just got done with my date with somebody else!” y/n said with a shaky breath. She could feel her heartbeat almost burning through her chest that rose and fell harshly.

“How was it? Your date?” Richie had calmed down, but y/n didn’t.

“It went bad. Is that what you wanted to hear?” y/n muttered, but it could’ve been mistaken for a yell.

“No, why would you think—hold on. What’s up with you?” Richie’s hands stuffed themselves in his front pocket. His posture was hunched over, and his face now screwed together, trying to understand the girl standing before him.

“I don’t know.” The flame that had once ignited y/n’s lively spirits had died down. “I just. It didn’t go well, that’s all,” y/n said, unable to coax the words she actually wanted to say out of her lips.

“He wasn’t an asshole, was he?” Richie’s tone was protective—nothing y/n would expect from him two months ago when she’d gotten themselves into this mess.

“No! No.” y/n was complicated. First, she’d spew off about how her date was bad and now she was defending said date?

“God, y/n/n, can you just make up your mind?”

She could do that.

“You were right,” y/n declared.

“What?”

“Don’t make me say it again.” Her voice lowered to a whisper, but Richie could still make out what she was saying.

“Well, I’m always right, toots. I just need context—”

“About the fake dating thing. How eventually one person’s bound to fall for the other…” Her toes curled from under the white Converse she hadn’t had time to slip off. They were worn and the bottoms were yellowing from the number of times she’d matched them to an outfit. “And you don’t look like you’re on your knees, so.”

“So, what?” y/n didn’t notice the smirk edging on the corners of Richie’s lips.

“Tozier, don’t make me say it.”

“You have to, or God knows how long we’ll be standing on this fuckin’ porch,” Richie said patiently. Patient. Richie was never patient—always the one to urge his friends to hurry the fuck up, always the one to ask are we there yet? But this time he was. His figure stood still and ominous, like Santa on Christmas Eve. His breathing held steady in his lungs that had seen more smoke than his mother’s kitchen and his feet stood planted on the concrete stoop of y/n’s house and they’d stay there until she told him the very damned thing she didn’t want to.

“I like you, okay?” y/n knew if she blinked, the dam of tears in her eyes would finally burst and the last thing she wanted was having Richie Tozier see her cry. Well, second to last thing. The first thing on that list had already happened. “Look, I know you’re still in love with Van-Vanessa.” It hurt to say the girl’s name because she wasn’t just a girl, she was Richie’s ex. “But you asked me to say it and I did. So there.”

y/n was about to turn back. Back into her house and back out of this friendship. It was only because Richie laughed that y/n stopped. His chuckle was like music, not the kind that Richie blasted in his car with the windows down, but like a symphony. And if y/n were any less mortified right now, maybe she’d stop to admire it—him—for one second more.

She was about to ask why. Why are you mocking me when I’m so clearly in a vulnerable state right now? Why are you mocking me after I’d just shared something so deep and personal with the likes of you? About the likes of you? But y/n didn’t get the chance when Richie surged forward and pressed a kiss against her lips. She could feel her heart pick up even more at the taste of him: spearmint and tobacco. She thought it’d stabilize itself once his lips left hers, but it didn’t. His taste lingered and at the time it felt permanent, like a red stain on white furniture.

“Like I said. Ole Vanessa could never get in the way of you.” His breath hit her face, warm and intoxicating, and y/n could only think that kissing Richie on the lips was way better than kissing him on the cheek.

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aion-rsa · 3 years ago

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He’s All That: Influencer Addison Rae Helms a Cast of Familiar Faces

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

For Gen-X viewers, He’s All That is a story we’ve seen before: Pygmalion or My Fair Lady, but updated with cultural references, settings, and technology that make the story of the lesson behind the plot—that the person you are is more important than the image you put forth—more connected to a modern audience. But digital natives who have grown up with as much with TikTok as with teen movie tropes will have a far richer experience, recognizing the cast not only as actors, but as the same influencers they’re playing.

From director Mark Waters, this update, a gender-bent response to 1999’s iconic She’s All That, features a young influencer who, due to the live broadcast of a messy breakup with her budding rock-star boyfriend, loses her sponsorship (and is outed as the poor girl she truly is). The only way to get her sponsor back and save face is to prove she’s the makeover queen, able to make over any boy at their school the way she sculpted her ex’s image.

While the cast features a number of familiar faces and voices, this is not only Addison Rae’s film, it’s her first film. As her character Padgett Sawyer, the real-world TikTok celeb leads the familiar story through all the right beats, accompanied by pop-up chat windows and emojis that represent the presence of social media in the lives of all but Cameron Kweller (played by Tanner Buchanan), the object of Padgett’s make-over efforts.

Here’s a look at the cast, including some blink-or-you’ll-miss-it cameos of other influencers among the cast members…

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A post shared by Addison Rae (@addisonraee)

Addison Rae as Padgett Sawyer

Although this is Rae’s first full-length feature, she is no stranger to the camera. She began her career as a dancer, who in 2019 launched a TikTok channel featuring her dance takes on popular songs. At only 20, the Louisiana celeb is worth over $5 million and has more than 83.4 million followers on TikTok (far more than her character in the film). Rae has her own merchandise line, but has also endorsed brands including Chantilly Boutique, Cheapskate, FashionNova, McCrary Jewelers, and Uptown. (It seems doubtful that she relies on any of them for corporate sponsorship, the way Padgett relies on sponsor Bunny Venom, given her per-video payout rate on TikTok and the reports of what she brings in monthly on YouTube.)

Character Padgett is known for her makeover how-tos (some of which give bad advice, such as using toothpaste to reduce pimples), and in fact Rae’s very first YouTube video was showing how to do hair and makeup. Another is a Q&A with her 2020 flame, Bryce Hall. But more of her videos on both YouTube and TikTok feature music, and in addition to the requisite teen movie dance numbers featured in He’s All That, Rae does an excellent karaoke in the film with co-star Buchanan.

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Bryce Hall‘s Cameo

Speaking of Bryce Hall, Rae’s fellow TikTok star (21 million followers) makes a cameo in the film. Hall’s career as an influencer began when he livestreaming on YouTube at age 15 in an effort to make friends after being bullied. The social media influencer moved from Maryland to Los Angeles and joined TalentX Entertainment’s Sway House to create content for multiple platforms.

In the film, Hall has no lines, but commiserates with Padgett’s ex, Jordan Van Draanen (Peyton Meyer) about girls. In the scene, Van Draanen soulfully mourns that the girl he dumped Padgett for has ghosted him, then asks his friends (including Hall) if they caught all that on camera. (By the time of the film release, Hall and Rae were no longer together, which may make viewers curious how Hall now feels about that scene…)

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Spencer X as the DJ

TikTok viewers may also catch the cameo of Beatboxer Spencer X as the DJ behind the karaoke competition. With over 54 million followers, the sound effects champ (who includes the label Mouth Music Man on his site) also has two singles of beatboxing and remixed vocals available on Spotify.

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Kourtney Kardashian as Jessica Miles Torres

While Kardashian needs no introduction, this real-life friend of Rae’s takes on the role of Padgett’s sponsor, an exec at Bunny Venom, who fires Padgett when her image goes wrong. Kardashian became a reality star in 2007’s Keeping up with the Kardashians and is involved in fashion along with her sisters. Due to her popular presence on social media, Kardashian is regularly compensated by brands for featuring their products in her posts. She has also helmed the lifestyle website, Poosh.

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A post shared by Tanner Buchanan Official (@tannerbuchananofficial)

Tanner Buchanan as Cameron Kweller

Coming from a more traditional acting background, Buchanan plays an artist who has no interest in the falseness of the high school world (and gives out sage words of wisdom)–though deep inside, he’s still mourning the loss of his mother and feel disconnected from his family and friends until Padgett breaks through his armor. Viewers might recognize him from TV series like Game Shakers or Designated Survivor, but the martial arts skills he shows off in He’s All That might be better attributed to the set of Cobra Kai, another Netflix production (after its first two seasons on YouTube Red) in which he plays Robby Keene.

Peyton Meyer and Madison Pettis

Padgett has two antagonists in the film: ex Jordan Van Draanen (Meyer) and rich girl frenemy Alden (Madison Pettis). Meyer is known for Girl Meets World and American Housewife, while Pettis made her name as Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson’s daughter in The Game Plan on the Disney Channel. If her voice is familiar, it may be because the He’s All That mean girl also played animated characters including Izzy in Jake and the Neverland Pirates and Zuri in The Lion Guard.

Myra Molloy and Annie Jacob

This 2021 update to the classic teen movie features a secondary romance between two queer girls of color—Padgett and Cameron’s besties who hit it off, despite their social strata differences. LEGO fan Nisha is played by Annie Jacob, known for her role as Glory Moffett on Motherland: Fort Salem. Sweetheart rich girl Quinn is played by relative newcomer Myra Molloy.

Matthew Lillard as Principal Bosch

In the 1999 film She’s All That, Lillard played an obnoxious reality star who steals the girlfriend of the main character, played by Freddie Prinze Jr (also Lillard’s co-star in Scooby Doo). Lillard isn’t shown for most of He’s All That, as only his voice is featured for the majority of the movie, until the final scene, in which he’s revealed to be the principal of the high school.

Rachel Leigh Cook as Anna Sawyer

She’s All That lead star Cook comes back not as her original character, but as Padgett’s mom, who is a nurse working hard to keep them in the best school district. As the film comes to a close, a remix of the song “Kiss Me” plays at the school dance–a direct call back to the original film, which used that as the main theme. Cook’s recent Love, Guaranteed was another Netflix Original.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

While He’s All That offers no surprises, the cameos and callbacks to the original film make this teen movie enjoyable as exactly what it is: a familiar tale with the usual happy ending, updated for a new audience.

The post He’s All That: Influencer Addison Rae Helms a Cast of Familiar Faces appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3h8F9cr

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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rakimaiirisa · 4 years ago

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This or That

tagged by @commandershepardshtole Thank you 😊❤

COSY AESTHETICS

wind or rain / closed curtains or open window / bumblebees or butterflies / banana bread or cheesecake / tulips or roses / lemon & honey or apple & cinnamon / hillside cottage or city apartment / warm or cold / book or video game / organized bullet journal or cluttered sketchbook / smoothie or milkshake / sunshine or moonlight / relaxing or productivity / holding hands or back hugs / sunset at the beach or stargazing in a field / poetry or prose / candle or diffuser / longing for the past or longing for the future / vocals or instrumentals / snowy mountain or rolling green hills

TASTES

ancient or modern // bitter or sweet // chocolate or vanilla // coffee or tea // create or destroy // day or night // early bird or night owl // freckles or dimples // gold or silver // greek mythology or egyptian mythology // macarons or eclairs // hot or cold // thunder or lightning // typewritten or handwritten // secret garden or secret library // spicy or mild // dark magic or light magic // virtue or vice // ocean or desert // mermaids or sirens // known or unknown // rough or smooth // moon or stars // rain or snow

HALLOWEEN/AUTUMN

tea or hot chocolate? cozy books or halloween movies? plaid or corduroy? foggy mornings or twinkly nights? orange or black? pumpkin or apple pie? wool or velvet? picking fruit or carving pumpkins? libraries or coffee shops? cinnamon or peanut butter? spooky or cozy halloween? candles or fairy lights?

FANFIC TROPES

coffee shop or flower shop • alternate universe or fix-it • enemies to lovers or childhood friends • angst or fluff • love at first sight or pining • modern au or historical au • soulmates or unrequited • fake dating or secret dating • breakup and makeup or proposals and weddings • get together or established relationship • oblivious pining or domestic fluff • hurt/comfort or crack • meet the parent or meet cute

ROMANCE

loving your best friend secretly or slowly falling in love with the enemy? • flirting with the professor or accidentally hooked up with the boss? • sneaking off to meet the handsome knight or admiring the prince from afar? • friends with benefits or fake dating? • late night conversation about the past or small talk in the morning? • sharing the bed or stuck in the same place together? • drunk confessions or avoiding them to hide your feelings? • night rides with the biker gang’s leader or lavish shopping spree with the mob boss? • teasing the grumpy bodyguard or disobeying the dom sugar daddy?

This was fun to do :)

Tagging @malwa1216 @the-dubstep-strawberry @nautseverywhere @danse-or-farkas @pchberrytea @kittinkanin @korvanjund @opal-bee @shadowtigers and anyone else who would like to do this, consider yourself tagged! No pressure to do it if you dont want to ❤

#tag games #this or that

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mars-colony · 4 years ago

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This or That

Tagged by @commandershepardshtole, ty!!

COZY AESTHETICS

TASTES

HALLOWEEN/AUTUMN

FANFIC TROPES

ROMANCE

#i was tagged #this or that #chono post

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pilothusband · 4 years ago

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Favorite Fanfiction Tropes

Thanks for the tag @massivecolorspygiant 🥰 (and thanks so much for following me back!!)

coffee shop or flower shop • alternate universe or fix-it • enemies to lovers or childhood friends • angst or fluff • love at first sight or pining • modern au or historical au • soulmate or unrequited • fake dating or secret dating • breakup and makeup or proposals and weddings • get together or established relationship • oblivious pining or domestic fluff • hurt/comfort or crack • meet the parent or meet cute • time travel or parallel universe

✨ No pressure tags @tenderclio @221bshrlocked @jpedropascal @softdin ✨

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brokuro · 4 years ago

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tagged by @hisokaas thank u cutie hehehe

favourite trope: im a sucker for both enemies to lovers and childhood friends thats why i couldnt choose

LET ME JUST SAY... the breakup/makeup one is ONLY if the breakup wasnt for a decent reason. Like if one of them seriously did something wrong then i dont believe in getting back together, but if the breakup was sth like, im moving across the country so we gotta break up, then yeah give me that make up

taggingggg @verytendou @suckishima no pressure guys hehe

#tag meme

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boymeetsweevil · 6 years ago

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Breathe you in

Grouping: Popstar!Reader x Non-Idol!Taehyung

Word Count: ~7.8k

Warnings/Themes: Shotgunning (so thats recreational drug use), Rough face fucking, face-sitting (fm receiving), some background angst, not too scary lol

Summary: Can I pls request an ex lovers trope with taehyung where you broke up with him , but he shows you he loves you and was never over you and wants to be together again? Thanks!

A/N: This is part of the BTS Smut Club Anniversary fic exchange! Thanks for the prompt!

It’s nearing 10pm when the town car arrives in front of your apartment complex. The driver pulls up in the back entrance used primarily for allowing the higher profile residents to discreetly enter the building when needed. Normally the back entrance is littered with snapping cameras or fans who are trying their hand at stalking. Tonight none of those people are there for you because your mini-tour ended a day early, allowing you to return from Amsterdam a day before what’s scheduled on your website.

“Don’t forget,” your publicist sits across from you on the opposite leather upholstered bench of the car, “You’re close to reaching another follower milestone, so you need to do one last Instagram live before bed.” You release a deep sigh that sounds like it came from your bones.

“Shit. Bee, I’m really tired.”

“Language,” Bee admonishes while scrolling one iPhone in one hand before switching to the one in her other hand.

“Can’t it fucking wait,” you hiss, petty from exhaustion.

She pins you with a look that tells you she’s not playing this game with you and continues typing away. “You’ll sleep soon enough once we go through the checklist for today and tomorrow.”

Bee’s phone pings and you watch the set of her mouth grow infinitely more tense before her eyes dart to you. Rarely does hesitation temper her gaze like it does in this moment. You let out a sigh. She’s about to mention your ex.

“Also, Oh! News wants to bring you in some time this week to address statements Nick made about the breakup.”

“Of course they do,” you sigh again.

“I’ve been trying to push the date back but they’re not taking no for an answer. Plus, it might be better to go out and put an end to it so it can become old news.”

You massage your temples. “Yeah, no, I’ll do it. I’ll do it.”

Bee watches the gears in your head turn as you think about the whirlwind that was the breakup. With your departure to Europe only a few days after the PG-13 video of him with another actress blew up, there was naturally a lot of speculation. Most of it hateful and directed at you, surprisingly enough. Having just starred in a movie aimed at 12-17 year olds, Nick seemingly had all of the world’s young girl population locked and loaded at you. Your relative silence while on tour for two months in the Netherlands only fueled the outrage.

“Alright, alright,” she opens the door on your side and pushes your purse into your limp arms. “I had them take your luggage up before you. Do what I told you and then...go get some sleep, Sweets.”

“Thanks, Bee.”

Your penthouse apartment is as pristine as you left it when you push open the door, your luggage waiting neatly by your shoe closet. While you unpack your bags in your bedroom, you take note of the outfit laid out for your on your bed. It’s a pair of leggings that have sequins sewn up the sides and a matching off the shoulder top that will definitely require you to keep your bra on. It’s for the Instagram broadcast, so you won’t have to wear it long. But you want to crawl out of your skin and finally be able to turn off your public figure voice more than anything else. You suppose you can handle waiting a little while longer, though.

When you’re dressed and have your hair out of your face, you take your phone with you to the bathroom before waking up your speaker to play some mood music. A little tripod setup waits for you on the sleek countertop. Once your phone is plugged in and you’ve pulled up Instagram, you begin your livestream and your camera smile is on.

“Hey, everybody,” you greet the viewers already watching.

There’s a little more than 800,000 people are currently watching, more than normal this early in a live video. You attribute it to the tweet Bee sent from your Twitter a few minutes prior that broke your 2 month long internet silence.

“I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long,” you talk a little louder over the music you have playing. “I was so busy in Amsterdam and when I did have some down time, I wanted to really unplug. So I didn’t use social media while I was there. I’ll definitely be uploading the pictures I took, though. I saw some really amazing stuff.”

You begin pumping an oil cleanser into the palms of your hands while stopping to read the comments as they come up on the screen. Some of them you ignore because they’re comments from Nick’s fan accounts. Others welcome you back and some are fans of the artist you were touring with.

“How was touring with Nana,” you echo the fan’s question while rubbing your makeup off. “She was so wonderful, oh my god. I think she’s got such a beautiful point of view when it comes to her lyrics about getting older and dealing with the pressures of being a woman in the spotlight. Also her fashion sense is incredible.”

A few more questions about the products you’re using and what you did on your off time come up. Some people ask if you’re working on a new album yourself and you talk about that as much as you can without breaking any promises, keeping the essentials a secret. Another person asks you to sing a few bars from your verse on the song you did with Nana and you do. By the time you’re tapping moisturizer onto your face, you’ve almost made it through the broadcast unscathed. But then you see a comment that has you breaking character for a second, your muscles freezing.

douknowbt$: OMG Nick is watching the live.

Hopefully no one notices your 2 seconds of panic, but you can’t be sure until someone else blogs about it. You dismiss the comment and finish up with a few pumps of hand cream, rubbing your hands a bit manically as the comments about Nick begin to grow in number. In that moment, you sign off and quickly move to end the live. But with your haste and slippery fingers, you don’t realize you missed the button and the recording was still going.

A few of the viewers try to send messages letting you know that the live hasn’t ended, but you don’t check your phone again after throwing it onto your covers and climbing into bed. With the camera facing up, you’re seen pulling up your laptop and putting on some classical music using the surround sound speakers in your bedroom. From the screen, all the viewers can see you sitting stiffly on your bed, eyes closed for a few minutes in what looks like meditation as the adagio that’s playing washed over you. After a few deep breaths, you open your eyes and reach for your phone.

“Oh sh—,” you keep yourself from cursing at the last second when you discover the livestream didn’t end. “I’m sorry, guys. I was so tired I guess I didn’t realize I forgot to end the video. I’m signing off for real now. Yes, yes, I’m okay. Just tired. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

You triple check to make sure the video is off before throwing your phone across the bed. The day didn’t seem like it could get worse after your long flight and even longer wait at the airport when it seemed like your luggage was lost. Not to mention that you were bone tired and hungry but couldn’t have any of the foods you were craving because of a stupid photo shoot coming up in a few weeks. In that moment, the intercom rings, signaling that the front desk is trying to reach you, but you remain in bed and hope that it’ll stop. It does, for a moment, before starting up again. You groan before getting up and heading to the front door.

“Yes?”

“Hello Miss,” says the cheerful older man who runs the front desk during nights. “I trust you’re having a delightful evening.”

“Hello, Sir.”

“We just wanted to alert you that the delivery person with your order is currently on the 15th floor and should be at your suite shortly. Please anticipate your food’s arrival in the next few minutes and have a pleasant rest of the evening.” The call ends just like that, not leaving you any room to protest and say that you didn’t order food.

You figure it’s just that Bee saw what a huge shitshow your livestream was and she wants to send you something to make you feel better. And no doubt if it was something that came with a delivery person, it was good food. If she came herself, she would definitely have brought something like a salad bowl or a sushi plate. If you eat another vegetarian sushi plate, you're certain you'll die. Not from Mercury poisoning—like your mother always warns you about—but from sadness.

A tentative knock on the door sounds and you open it with a plasticky smile. Sometimes they send people who get a little star struck. Most times you’re amenable to just being subdued but friendly so that they just ask for a selfie or a quick autograph on a take out napkin and don't try to linger or say you were a bitch later on.

Tonight you're not really in the mood for too much friendliness tonight, though. In the drawer next to the door, you dig around for the wad of cash you keep hidden there and pull an obscene tip out.

“Hi, thank you,” you keep your head down and blindly reach for the white paper bag in the person's hand. “Have a good—excuse me, asshole!”

“That’s not my name.”

The hand yanks the bag out of your reach at the last second, lifting high above your head. You’re not at all in the mood for dealing with a pissy delivery boy who wants to knock you down a few pegs. Putting your hands on your hips, you’re about to give him the verbal lashing he deserves, PR consequences be damned, when you a good look at his face stops you.

“Taehyung?”

“In the flesh,” he shoots back at you.

The man in front of you gives you a muted, smug smile before shouldering his way past you and into your apartment. He stands tall in the foyer of your apartment like he belongs there and has been there a thousand times. You can’t help but drink in the image of your ex-boyfriend from half a decade ago despite the fact that he’s technically intruding. There’s still a whisper of the boy you started dating when you were in your last year of high school, but much of that is overpowered by the man he is now. He’s broader in the jaw and the shoulders than he was before, and there must have been some growth spurts since you last saw him.

“This is real nice,” he lets out a low whistle as he takes in the large open floor-plan of your apartment. You follow closely behind as he starts walking around, head cocked forward with purpose.

“What are you looking for?”

“The kitchen,” he says casually.

“It’s that way,” you gesture before realizing that you need to get your priorities straight. “What are you doing in my house?”

“I came to bring you food.”

The bag he raises gives off a pleasant savory smell and you clench your fist to keep yourself from excusing his sudden appearance.

“I didn’t ask for food. And I certainly didn’t ask you for food.”

“Touchy,” he turns back to pin you with an amused grin. “But you didn’t have to ask. I knew you needed it.”

“You knew I needed it?” You raise an incredulous eyebrow, eager to hear his explanation. “How did you know I needed it?”

He places the bag on the countertop in your kitchen, standing on the opposite side of the counter.

“Because,” he sighs, “I saw your Instagram live and you were playing Elgar. You never play Elgar unless something’s really wrong.”

“I—that’s,” he pushes the bag toward you while you try to come up with a reason while he’s wrong, when he’s not.

You’ve had a habit of playing classical music when you were near your breaking point. It’s been a habit that you’ve had since you were 10, but concealed long before you started your time in the spotlight. While you were dating Taehyung, you were a depressed teenager and he was present for some of the worst times of your life. Several times he’d found you in your room or your parents’ car blasting tragic symphonies as accompaniment for bawling your eyes out. But that was years ago.

“You can eat it. I’m not hungry,” you finally say. He looks at you like he can tell you’re lying, but plays along and shrugs.

“Fine.” He opens the bag and pulls out some smaller plastic containers of food and a spoon.

“I didn’t mean here!”

He chuckles at your outburst, mumbling something about fame not changing you, before ambling out of the kitchen and through the rooms until he arrives at your bedroom. You find him about to sit on your bed and rush over.

“If you took the subway here, don’t even think about sitting on that bed.”

“What? Suddenly my subway clothes are too dirty for your bed?”

“Yes,” you huff. “The sheets alone cost me more than half a grand.”

“What the hell,” he jumps up like he’s been shocked. “Why would you spend that much on sheets?”

“They’re highly rated,” you admit with a small voice. “And they’re used by many foreign diplomats.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re so prissy.”

“We can’t all be members of a practical startup.” When his eyes widen in surprise, you curse yourself for letting him know you still keep tabs on him. “Besides. You used to like prissy.”

“Still do,” he gives you with a molten look that has you moving away from him and fluffing pillows to hide your flustered state.

“Why are you still here?”

“Because you’re hurting.”

“Maybe,” you throw your hands up. “But that’s not your job anymore.”

He runs a hand through his dark hair, parting the shiny waves carelessly. He’s not sure how to admit that he’s been making sure fame doesn’t eat you alive ever since you broke up with him to pursue your singing career. The memory of that day rings clear in his head even after five years of being split up.

Cliche as it sounds, it was a rainy night. You were at a meeting with Bee a few days before the entertainment label you were flirting with was going to give you the final version of your contract to sign.

Bee was never a huge fan of his, so Taehyung waited outside her office instead of interrupting the meeting to let you know he was there. But with the office door cracked, he could still hear the sounds of your conversation and the soft sounds of your sobs.

His blood grew cold when he heard what Bee was telling you. She told you starting this career with a relationship would hurt your numbers by making it impossible for your male fanbase to project their fantasies onto you because of the presence of another guy in your life. She told you if you were going to make it, you’d need to play up the role of sexy girlfriend to the audience members for the first album at least and that wouldn’t be possible if they got wind of Taehyung.

He covered his own mouth, barely fighting tears from welling up, listening as you tried to plead with Bee. Your voice was watery as you tried to convince her that you could make it without the girlfriend role. That you had enough work ethic and talent to do it. And when she didn’t budge, you said that you loved him and threatened to walk out right then if you had to break up with him. He listened to Bee tell you that you were being naive and that you’d be stupid to throw away all your opportunities for a boy.

And Bee was right.

So when you came outside minutes later with puffy eyes and a white knuckled grip on the sleeves of your sweater, he’d accepted his fate. He’d even accepted the lie you told him about having another guy on the side. Though you couldn’t produce a name when he asked who it was. Though you looked up at him like you wanted to take it all back. Though you leaned your forehead on his chest like you were in the greatest amount of pain. He accepted it all and walked away.

That is, if walking away meant that he created fake social media accounts so he could comment positive things on your first few interview videos and bought tickets to as many concerts he could when you were in the area. He never tried to make his presence known, just stood there and drank in how vibrant you looked when you were on stage and singing your heart out. It took a while for the jealousy to stop rearing its ugly head whenever he looked at how other people would show their adoration for you. By the time Nick came around, he was convinced he was content with how things were. But after seeing the way Nick’s cheating affected you, he had a hard time sitting still.

“Well, I’m not leaving until you feel better. So, you better start talking.”

“What is there to even say?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

You sigh and ignore him in favor of walking over to the large sofa in the corner of your room and collapsing on the large sofa face first. A dip in the cushions near you tells you he’s followed you and sat down. When you finally reveal your face, he’s peering down at you with a sad look in his eyes. The sad, sympathetic look that would always get you spilling your guts when you were still together. So you tell him everything.

It's almost embarrassing to tell him that you thought you loved Nick. At their best, things with Nick were comfortable and sometimes passionate, but it wasn’t anything close to love. Nothing close to what you had with Taehyung. And how could it have been when the reason you got together in the first place was because Bee thought you could ‘scratch each other’s backs’? Nick was not only handsome with the clean image Bee wanted for you, but you were writing and singing the theme song for the blockbuster movie he was to star in. It all seemed to work at first.

It only took one tabloid story suggesting that he was seeing some other younger and bustier actress behind your back to make you see that nothing you had with him was substantial. You brought the story up as a joke, thinking you could laugh about the way tabloids would do anything for story—even lie. As soon as you mentioned it to him, he denied it hastily and made a snide comment about not believing everything you see just because it’s technically press. After that, it was like a switch had been flipped and suddenly you couldn’t be in the same room together for more than 10 minutes without going at each other’s throats. The cheating rumors kept flaring up until they reached a peak a little more than 2 months ago, when someone anonymously submitted a video of him groping and kissing the same actress outside of a bakery in your hometown in broad daylight.

After watching the video about 15 times on the plane to Amsterdam, you concluded that even though he had long since established himself as a grade-A asshole in your mind, he was in mushy-love with this girl. You could tell from the sweet way he cradled her face while kissing her and how he took the extra step to block any potential cameras before giving her impressive rack a squeeze. Lucky for you, the video didn’t really evoke any messy emotions like jealousy. Instead there was just some satisfaction at having your suspicions confirmed and knowing he’d have to clean up this mess. You felt bad for the other actress, though. She was just starting out with mainly B movie roles and there was no telling whether the public would fillet her or ignore her altogether.

Taehyung has to sit on his hands to keep from rubbing your back you as you pour out all the things that had been stressing you out. What startles him is how stoic you are the whole time. When he first met you, you cried at the drop of a hat. It was endearing back then, but there’s no trace of it now. You sniffle a little when you talk about some of the vicious hate mail you received while in Amsterdam, but besides the shining eyes, that’s it. He clenches his jaw and wonders what you must have gone through in the last five years to have lost that quality.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles when the lull in the conversation is longer than he expected.

“It’s fine, I just,” you sniff again, wipe your eyes carefully. “I was really hoping that once the dating clause in my contract expired, things wouldn’t blow up in my face like this. And now I can’t go anywhere without people shoving mentions of Nick in my face. I just—it sucks. I just want to do what I want and I thought I’d earned that right but I guess not.”

“I don’t know. I think you’ve earned it. You’re grammy nominated this year, and you visited 13 countries this year alone.”

“What are you? President of my fan club?”

“Do I look like a 14 year old girl to you?”

You squint like you’re giving it some thought and he squawks.

“I’m just kidding,” you duck your head. “You’re, what, 226?” He laughs at the extra two centuries you’ve tacked on.

“You remember my birthday,” he smiles widely.

“Of course I do.” The way he looks at you makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up so you change the subject. “Alright. I’ve done enough talking. Where’s my compensation?”

“You literally haven’t changed at all,” he says while fishing in the pockets of his dark wash denim jacket. It takes a few seconds and he has to pull a few balled up receipts and earphones out of the pockets but he eventually pulls out a fat blunt and brandishes it like a huge check.

Nose wrinkling, you push his hand out of your face. “Weed?”

“Yeah! You said you wanted a pick-me-up, right? And I just got this yesterday from a dispensary. This is the good, strong shit. Probably could compete with the stuff they have in Amsterdam.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be able to tell.”

“Huh,” he furrows his brow while hunting for a lighter.

“I’ve never smoked so I wouldn’t know.”

“You mean you were in Amsterdam and you didn’t even try to smoke?”

“It’s bad for my voice,” you whine at his judgmental glare.

“Bullshit.”

“It smells like armpit,” you try again.

“There’s the prissy princess. Well, you should know that the only stuff that smells like that is the shit broke evil dealers peddle to broke college students.”

You roll your eyes, but sit up on your heels so you can pay closer attention. Taehyung flicks his lighter to life and lights up the end of the blunt. He takes a deep inhale before letting out a thick cloud of smoke. He gestures for you to take it, but you shake your head nervously.

“What’s the matter now?”

“I don’t know how to do it. What if I burn my lips?”

He squints at you, wondering how you can be such a baby. “The cherry’s not even on the side you put your mouth on.”

“Whatever! I’m still scared.”

“Do you want to try it, though?”

You gnaw at your lip thoughtfully and decide that you need to take your mind off everything for a while. “Y-yeah, I guess. I don’t have a studio session tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He scoots forward on the couch until your knees are just barely brushing. “I’ll shotgun it to you.”

“What’s that?”

“You’ll see.”

He takes another drag, this time a little smaller, and holds the smoke in his mouth. Turning to you, he leans in until you can feel his bangs brush your forehead as he tilts his head to get the angle right. There’s about an inch of space between your mouths when he starts to let the smoke billow out of his mouth. You get the gist and try to inhale it as best as possible, but you’re new to it and he’s too far away for you to get the smoke.

“I’m not getting any,” your tone is petulant as the smoke floats up around your face.

Taehyung, on the other hand, is already feeling the effects of the strong blend he bought. He scoots forward once more and then turns to the side so he can take another drag. This next time, he grabs your jaw and brings you forward to meet him. Thumbing at your bottom lip, he coaxes your mouth open and slack before slotting his lips over yours. You feel the brush of the supple skin of his lips and it distracts you a bit, but this time you do manage to inhale most of the fumes. Your eyes drop closed as you hold the smoke in for as long as possible before letting your breath out.

“How was that,” Taehyung asks lowly. His lids have drooped to match his relaxed state. With the high slowly creeping over him, he ogles you unabashedly.

“It was okay. Do it again.”

He nods and quickly burns through the rest of the blunt, giving you the larger hits when he shotguns to you and taking slightly smaller drags for himself. To keep you nearby, his hand comes to rest heavily on the small of your back. You, still on your haunches, somehow end up straddling one of his thighs to stay close. Near the end of the blunt, you’re feeling a bit floaty and like the heat from the blunt transferred to your belly. Taehyung’s gaze feels tangible on you, like a firm-handed caress across all parts of you as he looks you over. Like smoke on your skin. You recognize the feeling as one you haven’t felt in a while and move to sit more properly in his lap.

“I want the last one,” you whisper while tugging on the collar of his jacket. The ends of his long hair tickle your fingers.

He nods and moves slowly to suck the roach dry. Once he’s close enough, you wait patiently. His nose grazes your cheek for a few long seconds before he finally turns to pass the smoke to you. You take it obediently and exhale but then grab him by the lapels to press your lips to his. His hands come up immediately to cup your face and pull you closer. You work your lips over his, drawing low groans from him as your tongue teases his.

“You smell good,” he says groggily between kisses.

“Thanks,” you roll your eyes.

His eyes flutter shut when you begin to press kisses to the column of his throat, your hands moving to unbutton the dress shirt he’s wearing underneath. He tries his best to keep up with you, but he gets slow when he’s high. So he settles for you being in charge, but does let his hands roam over your body.

A lot has changed since he last felt you like this. The strict gym regimen you employ to compliment choreography for songs has given you an amazing ass that he thought could only gaze at in pictures. And he had done quite a lot of that. Though he’s not sure how you would feel if he confessed to jerking off to some of your sexier music videos. He marvels at the feel of you and you’re pleasantly surprised when his hands come down heavy on your hips to grind you down onto his lap. A pleased hum leaves you and you reward him with kisses migrating lower, across the path of his now exposed torso. You leave the couch to sit between his spread knees on the floor. The button of his jeans is your last major obstacle and you still your hands over the waistband patiently.

“You get where I’m going with this, right?”

He nods his head, tongue coming out unconsciously to wet his lips at he takes in the sight of you on your knees in front of him.

“Do want you want me to...” you trail off, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed at asking your ex if you could blow him.

“Do you? Want to?” His hand reaches out to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over you cheekbone.

“Yeah?”

“Then, yeah.”

You move quickly to unbutton his pants and slide them down his thighs once he lifts his butt to assist you. He’s wearing boxers, which is a relief because you don’t want his bare ass on your very expensive couch, and the crotch opening provides easy access. With one hand, you smooth the wrinkles in his boxers over, noting the tent in the fabric and the dark stain where his head must be dribbling pre-cum. Your mouth is watering as you pull him out and test his girth and weight in your hand. Just the sight of his dick in your hand makes you want to swallow him down.

Before he can say anything else, you’re wetting his shaft with broad licks from root to tip. He grits his teeth and lets out a satisfied grunt at the way it feels when you tongue at his slit. You take him in until you just barely wrap your lips around the head, and he lets out a low moan at finally being enveloped in the wet, silken heat of your mouth.

“Can you do me a favor,” he manages to ask you despite the fact that stars are forming in the corner of his vision when you take him against the inside of your cheek.

“Hmm,” you hum around him, causing his hips to jolt up the tiniest amount.

“Can you spit on it?”

You smile in a way that can only be described as predatory and pull him out of your mouth. You spit like he asks, letting some drool pool on him as well, while he moans again and his hand comes out to smooth over your hairline. He’s more vocal than you remember and it gets you wet quickly. Before you stain anything, you kick off your stupid bedazzled leggings so you can return them to Bee in the morning.

“Shit,” he hisses when you start bobbing your head to a fast and unforgiving rhythm. You’re playing with him, you want to wring an orgasm out of him, and he can sense this. “Why don’t we take this s-slow?”

You pull off briefly. “Tae, I want you to fuck my face. That’s not well-suited to slow.”

“Isn’t that bad for your voice,” he mimics your tone from earlier.

You give him a pinch on his thigh before taking him into your mouth again and resuming your ministrations. Since you’re so focused on getting what you want, he decides to try and level the playing field and keeps his hip movements to a minimum and opts to talk through the head instead. He’s determined to get some clarity with you

“I’ve missed you,” he breathes deeply through the feeling of your saliva starting to trickle over him. The slide is getting slicker as you continue, making him lose his train of thought briefly. “So much.”

Instead of replying back with words, you just give a little acknowledging noise that’s too neutral to be a dissenting or affirming noise. He takes it in stride and continues.

“I still think about you all the time. And I—fuck—I’ve tried to date other people, but it’s just never felt quite the same way. You were the only one who understood me so well and who didn’t try to change me.”

His words wash over you and a wave of fondness hits you in a way that has you almost shy. You haven’t been shy in a long while because you couldn’t afford to be in your line of work. People were always trying to capture parts of you, and a great deal of them were trying to capture the uglier sides. There was no room to actually fear that for the last five years of your life because it was inevitable to a certain degree. But as you work over Taehyung, his words make you feel stripped down. You feel bare and small despite the fact that his words have nothing but good in them really.

“If I’m being honest,” he says and you slow your rhythm to stare at him, wondering what he could have to confess. “You might be even further out of my league than when we first met.” You sigh and pull off of him.

“Tae, come on. Give yourself some slack.”

“No, I mean it,” he sits up slowly, tongue heavy with earnestness as he tries to talk through the high. “It seems like you’ve only become more comfortable with yourself since you started singing and the way you move—it’s like you’re from another planet.”

“Oh my god,” your cheeks heat up when he looks at you like you have a halo and wings. “Stop, you’re being so unnecessary right now.”

“I still love you,” he says. The words fall from his mouth like he’s been dying to say them. “And I know you didn’t cheat on me when we were younger.”

Your mouth drops open in shock. To this day you still regretted lying to him like that. But deep down you knew that there was something off about his reaction. He didn’t seem shocked or nearly disappointed as you thought someone might be when they hear they’re being left for another person. Instead, he had just nodded and insisted on driving you home until Bee had to come out and promise him that she’d do it herself. The fact that he didn’t block you on social media or try to drag your name through the mud immediately after your debut made you wonder if he saw through your lie.

“How did you know?”

“I came early to pick you up that day. And I heard Bee tell you what to say to me. How to break up with me.”

“Tae, I’m so—”

He shushes you with a tender kiss to the cheek that’s so soft you’re rendered momentarily speechless.

“I know. It’s not your fault, they didn’t give you a choice.”

“I would have picked you if I could,” you mumble into the space between you. His hands feel like anchors on either side of your face and you cling to them in the hopes that you won’t cry. “I really would have. You don’t know how much I missed you.”

“I feel the same way. It killed me to see you with that Nick asshole.”

You smirk a little at the mention of Nick. “Aw. Were you jealous, Tae?”

He looks down at you for a second, reading your face carefully, before dropping one hand down from your cheeks to the nape of your neck. The weight of it reads as possessive on your skin and you lean forward unconsciously until you’re able to smell the faintly sweet smell of smoke on his clothes.

“You’d like it if I was, right?” His gaze hardens, setting your heartbeat into a rabbit-quick pace. “Hmm? You like me being jealous of him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. Answer me.”

“Okay, fine. Maybe I do,” you nuzzle into his neck to hide the excited smile splitting your lips.

“I knew it. It’s pretty on-brand for you.”

He nudges your bare thigh to signal you need to get up and so you do. You’re about to ask him what the hell ‘on brand’ means for you when he bends down to throw you over his shoulder with a low grunt.

“Tae, what the hell!”

Your raised voice gets you a harsh tweak to the perky globe of your ass and immediately quiets you down. He walks with you to the bed before throwing you down. Not rough enough to hurt but just rough enough to surprise you and give a doe-eyed look to your face. When you look up at him, his charade has fallen a bit, eyes returning to their original sleepy softness.

“Is this how you want it,” he asks you.

His voice is deep and gentle, and it evokes a different but equally visceral reaction. You nod and then shuffle over to the edge of the bed and sit at the edge of the mattress, waiting to see where he’ll take the situation. He smiles darkly at you once more before placing a hand on the back of your head to lead to his crotch.

His erection stands taller than it did before on the couch and he digs his fingers into your hair when you plant sweet kisses on the juncture where his thigh meets groin. You look sweet like this—playful, even—as you mouth along his length with kitten licks interspersed. When you’re about to take him into your mouth once more, he fists your hair and pulls you off him. With your head angled up to look into his eyes, you see a new emotion in them.

“Look,” he sighs. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do the whole thing.”

“What, like sex?”

“No, I mean you and me. I want to be with you. I’ve made my peace with what happened between us, but I know I still love you. So, I’m asking you to decide if you’re willing to do that, to be with me. Because I can’t—”

“Yes.”

“What?” His eyes grow wider and take on an awestruck quality. Like he’s not sure he wants to believe what he heard from you. “Really?”

“I want to try again,” you curl your hands around his hips. Bringing him forward into a hug around his pelvis, you lean your chin on his lower abdomen and try to infuse as much reassurance as you can into your smile.

“You won’t get in trouble with your agency?”

You shake your head and curl your arms around his hips, bringing him into an awkward hug as you lean your chin on his lower abdomen and look up at him. “Nick was an exception because he and I were arranged by our respective agencies, but my dating clause expired last year. I can date who I want. Within reason.”

He throws his head back with the realization that he’ll get a second chance with you. The hand he has on the back of your head softly caresses the skin of your neck.

“God, I love you,” he breathes with eyes drifting closed in contentedness.

“Good. Now can we get back to this? You were being fun earlier.”

“Yeah?” His tone turns gravelly and coy as he coaxes you back towards his dick. “Are you ready to choke?”

You can only nod as you take him in gradually, only for him to wait until you get halfway and push your head further down. You gag around him at the sudden pressure at the back of your throat, but shift your breathing through your nose to get a better handle on it. He pulls you by the hair until you’re at the tip again before slamming you back down, your nose nearly brushing the skin of his abdomen. You gag and the sound causes him to thicken in your mouth and a rush of arousal to trickle down into your panties.

“You feel so good around my cock,” he moans as he begins thrusting shallowly into your mouth. You can tell he’s close from how irregular the rhythm is. “Can you try to deep throat me?”

After you give an affirmative hum and relax your throat as best you can, he takes your face in both hands and starts to pull you up and down his length, going further each time until he knows he’s in your throat from the sudden tightness of you swallowing and the increase in gagging. Saliva is now dripping from your mouth, coating him and your chin, but you don’t care. Your eyes tear up at the burning sensation, but you can also feel your arousal trickle down your leg as he fucks your mouth more intensely. Right as you press two fingers to your clothed center for some relief, he gives you a tapped warning on your neck and his orgasm spills into your mouth.

He quickly pulls off his jacket and shirt, handing the latter to you to wipe your eyes and mouth with. Once your face is dry, he tucks himself back in and climbs around you into the bed. You turn to watch him fold back your blankets and throw the pillows you have all to the foot of the bed, leaving the space by the headboard. Taehyung then lies down, head where your pillows once were.

“Going to sleep already?” Your voice comes out in a sultry croak that has him laughing a little.

“No, I’m getting ready for you to sit on my face,” he says simply.

When you don’t budge, he sits up and pulls you by the arms toward him. You try to escape him, but his grip just tightens the more you protest.

“Tae, wait, I’m not—”

“You’re not what?”

“I’m not...presentable. Down there.” You avert your eyes as you explain to him that it's been a since you were last at a spa to get waxed. You figured since you weren’t seeing Nick anymore and you were mandated by your PR crew to wait at least 4 months after a breakup, there was no need to keep up with such a strict...landscaping routine. He rolls his eyes and moves to pull on the waistband of your panties to peek in and see what you mean, but you shove him away.

“Do you think I actually care?”

“Do you really not?”

“No? Unless you have some disease or infection, what’s the issue?”

“I’m clean,” you pout.

“Good,” he says before placing a kiss on your lips.

While you’re distracted by the kissing, he maneuvers you into straddling his waist before pulling back. Reluctantly, you shuffle up to hover over his ribcage and shyly grab the headboard. He huffs.

“You know I can’t reach you from there. It’s called sitting on someone’s face for a reason.”

He nudges your butt until the seat of your panties lines up with his jaw. He sees a few errant curls peeking out from the leg holes of your panties, so he uses a finger to push your underwear to the side to get a better look. What’s unsurprising is that it still looks like a vagina, though it had been a while since his last non-bald encounter. He doesn’t care, though, and cups your butt in his hands to move you the rest of the way.

The broad strip he licks up from your entrance to your clit takes you by surprise and because you were wound up so tight from a combination of nerves and horniness from blowing him, you let out a high keening sound. Taehyung chuckles beneath you before using his full lips to kiss at the apex of your thighs, sucking your clit into his mouth. The tip of his tongue scrubs figure eights against the bundle of nerve endings and has you squirming over him. More arousal leaks from you and he shifts to drink from you, humming and slurping obscenely. He then starts to lick at you in earnest, tracing strategic shapes across your lips and sucking with varying pressures and paces until you start rocking over him on your own accord.

“That’s my girl,” he praises you from below. “Now, ride my face,” he says before flattening his tongue and pressing up to meet your tentative grinding thrusts.

The combination of saliva and your arousal makes the glide smoother than you expected and it feels so good that one of your hands leaves the headboard to fist in his thick hair. He moans a little at the faint sting and wraps his hands around the backs of your thighs to press you against him harder. His tongue dips into your entrance occasionally, chasing the flavor of your arousal, trying not to let any of your juices go to waste. You bite your lip to trap the wanton moans trying to escape you, but Taehyung realizes what you’re doing and gives you another sharp swat to the bottom to coax them out, mumbling against the inside of your thigh not to hide from him anymore.

As you start to move more desperately above him, he attempts to fuck you more purposefully with his tongue. It’s just enough that in a dozen more swivels of your hips, you’re cumming all over his face, soaking his cheeks with a glistening varnish. You try to move as quickly as possible, but he stops you with a tight hold on your hips and licks you clean. You squirm away, partly because you’re sensitive and partly because he’s so enthusiastic about it that you’re a little bashful.

Finally he lets you get off him, but he doesn’t let you get too far. He follows you and almost makes it into the en suite with you, but you close the door at the last moment. You pee and clean up and when you come out, you feel like a weight has been lifted. Taehyung looks infinitely more sober lying in the middle of your bed in just his boxers, eyes bright and hair messy as he tries to figure out which remote will turn on your speakers.

You stand by the bed and watch him for a while. He turns to you innocently and holds the remotes in his two hands with confusion.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you approach your closet and take off your borrowed sweatshirt before looking for your favorite well-worn sweatsuit. “You’re just so pretty.”

“You’re prettier,” he shouts over to you. He can’t see you inside your closet, but you’re smiling like an idiot.

When you’re fully changed, you go to the bed and lean over him to kiss him. He still smells like you and you tell him so, to which he responds with a grin and subtly licking his lips.

“So when do you want me to tell the public about you?”

“Whenever you want,” he shrugs.

“Really? Because there’s a good chance you won’t be able to live your life the same way you have been once I do that.”

“Then it’ll just change. I would expect it to if you’re coming back into my life again.”

“Oh my god, you’re so—”, you’re at a loss for words.

You decide to crawl into his space and pepper kisses into his skin. He smells like a strange blend of you and him, but the smell is reassuring in some way unknown to you. You sit there for the rest of the night, breathing him in like smoke

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