#but using my friend's oc to disguise yourself is big no no

[the-hunter-himself]

OOC : PSA for Outlast Ask Blog Owner

When you receive an anon ask from an OC, and it sounds out of character, always make sure it was sent by the OC owner and not a fake anon.

I received someone disguised their harassment in RP AND Using my friend's OC. It's always safe to double-check. Be wary of fake asking using someone's oc

I know Gabby from my heart, and i'm a friend of her owner.

This is not how her character is written and i have recieve an confirmation that my friend did not send this

[violet-butterflies]

❥︎ yandere! Villain Headcanons

❥︎ Warnings ! ☞︎︎︎ stalking, violence, gore, angst ☞︎︎︎ A/N If you recognized this character then you probably read my work from Quotev. Or I might be wrong and my story might be more generic and/or similar to another author's work than I thought lmao. ( male yandere! oc x gn reader )

❥︎ yandere! Villain who disguises as a hero he killed earlier that week. He purposely caused a huge chaos in town where he can come in and pretend to help! After that, he can always go into the hero's circle and infiltrate the hero's defense systems and take the hero's powers all for himself!

❥︎ yandere! Villain who is betrayed as a child by the very heroes that are supposed to protect him and his small village. Now, equipped with shadow powers that allow him to absorb and transform into the heroes he's killed, he is gonna hunt for the most powerful hero in town!

❥︎ yandere! Villain who meets the hero's overworked sidekick. No matter, you won't be a problem in his master plan at all.

❥︎ yandere! Villain who is frustrated about how the hero barely shows up to most of the chaos he and his minions have caused. For god's sake, he made sure to cause trouble for the whole week so he could pretend to be friends with the hero and gain more intel! Why are you the one showing up to deal with all this?!

❥︎ yandere! Villain who has to change his plans due to how much the hero was not showing up. Maybe he can use you to hunt the hero down! After all you are his sidekick and, he must say, your company is not half bad!

❥︎ yandere! Villain who spends a lot of time with you to gain your trust; hoping that is he gets close enough you'd take him to the hero's hideout! But wait, why are you actually interesting?

❥︎ yandere! Villain who finds out you were betrayed by the heroes too. He can't help but sympathize with you but he just doesn't get how you still want to join forces with them. In fact, it only pushes you to protect the people even more! Not only that, he even found out that the hero barely does anything to help you if the crime is not big enough to take any significant credit! He can't help but feel a big need to protect you from people that are clearly taking advantage of you. This also makes him want to tear the hero down even more for taking advantage of your undeserved kindness.

❥︎ yandere! Villain who finds a lot of things in common with you and eventually hangs out with you for no reason on top of a building somewhere when nothing is happening. You were so sweet and kind! He wants to stop disguising himself because he feels bad fooling you. He's sure you'd fall in love care for who he really is anyways because it's his personality you've been hanging out with this whole time!

❥︎ yandere! Villain who finds out your real identity and where your family lives. Apparently, they live far away from the big city. Perfect! Now he has a way to get you out of the city for his master plan. You won't be there to help the hero. and you will be safe in case anything goes wrong.

❥︎ yandere! Villain who is pretending to feel sympathy for your mom who apparently got harassed by a thug and needed to be hospitalized. Oh you needed to go home for a few weeks to take care of your mom? Don't worry about it, he'll make sure to keep the city safe! tell your mom that he's sorry for beating her up

❥︎ yandere! Villain who summons a murderous demon to massacre the city! Now that you aren't here to help the hero, he's free to let loose and do as much damage he can to draw the hero out and kill him! He doesn't even have to do a thing! All he has to do is to be a vessel for the demon and he can watch under his subconscious!

❥︎ yandere! Villain who is in a panic since instead of the hero, you were the one that showed up. What were you doing here?! You're supposed to be with your mom! No no! You can't handle this yourself! Y/N GET OUT OF HERE YOU'LL DIE! PLEASE GET OUT OF HERE I DON'T WANT TO HURT THE PERSON I LOVE!

❥︎ yandere! Villain who gains back control when it is too late. Lying on the concrete streets is the broken and bruised body of his beloved sidekick. You are covered in bruises and blood. Multiple stab wounds covered your body and you were missing a whole arm. On top of that, crimson blood oozed out of you and you were losing heat quick. He doesn't even bother to hide his true identity since he wants you to see who he actually was at least once.

❥︎ yandere! Villain who is crying while he apologizes to your unconscious body. His whole body is shaking as he tries his hardest to find any solution to fix the problem he caused.

❥︎ "Please y/n wake up! I'm so sorry! Please don't leave me alone! You've barely even met me! The real me! So please open your beautiful eyes and tell me that everything is going to be ok!"

❥︎ yandere! Villain who shoots a sharp glare to the hero and lets out a string of profanities when the hero showed up late, witnessing the villain hug the body of his sidekick; he himself can't help but stare, feeling mortified and remorse.

❥︎ yandere! Villain who takes you to his hideout where he keeps you hooked up on all sorts of machines to keep your body alive until he can fully bring your soul back from the other side.

❥︎ yandere! Villain who swears on vengeance to the hero and promised himself to properly protect you from everything including himself from then on.

❥︎ "I promise y/n. I'll save you and we'll get to know each other properly this time. When the time comes, I'll let you punish me for hurting you and I'll keep you safe from everything including me."

[photogirl894]

2, 3, and ( 11 for her and her son, Kori ) Kida

Thanks, friend!!

Oh 🎶 Kidaaaaa 🎶

I heard my name, you better not wear it out!

Welcome, dear! Here are your questions!

2. Tell us a little bit about yourself.

To put it simply, I am the Queen of fashion and flirtation. I make stylish clothes with secret protective measures that I call "strategic alterations" that can disguise weapons and armor. That is my life and passion. I love to flirt and play around sometimes because it just makes life more fun 😉 I keep company with the Koriena Force ladies because I love the thrill of adventure. Plus, they were in need of money once, I helped them out and decided to stick with them because I liked them. I am also a mother of a beautiful baby boy. He was not planned at all, but I wouldn't change a thing because he has completely changed my life. His father is not present currently, but maybe one day, we'll see him again...

3. How would you describe your childhood?

I grew up in a rich family, so I was pretty much always given what I wanted. I saw some of the fancy dresses my mother would wear and wanted to wear them, too, but they never made them for girls my age, so I started learning how to make them myself. My parents supported my passion, as well, and, unlike most rich parents, they were actually involved in my life. As I got older, my family's money didn't matter so much to me except just to get fabric and supplies for my craft.

11. What does your dream room/house look like? Would you mind showing some inspiration pictures?

At one point in time, I wouldn't have minded a mansion like the one I grew up in, but now that I have a son to raise and have been living a more simple lifestyle, I wouldn't mind a smaller home in a more remote place. Nothing too big, but not too small either. Perhaps a place like this:

I think this would be perfect for me and Kori one day when we can settle down and I can raise him properly.

Oc Ask Game - Role-play Interview

[daryfromthefuture]

😈🛒✨🛠⛔🙋‍♀️💖❌ 🤗🤯 for the ask thing (sorry I got a lot of questions!)

oh god, that's a lot! let's see what we have here

😈has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

oh, all the time. many of my reader friends open my next chapter with great caution because i tend to be a little mean to my main characters sometimes (without warning, too). sometimes i also like to make already pretty bad conditions even worse for fun <3 i love my readers

🛒what are common things you incorporate in your fics? themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

at this point it's pretty much impossible to find a fic of mine that doesn't involve a doc and marty found family trope, and i love when they hug, so that also does happen all the time. it's a crime that they only had two hugs in the entire trilogy. bob gale, what the hell?

aside from that...emotional hurt, fluff. friendship. these things. i'm not a huge fan of romance, so i tend to stay away from that (except if it's necessary for plot purposes)

✨give you and your writing a compliment. go on now. you know you deserve it.

awww. that's sweet. let me think.

as much as it frustrates me sometimes, my writing is pretty solid in english for it being my third language. i sometimes reread my stuff and think that this is a style i'd also gladly read.

🛠️what tools/programs/apps do you use to write?

i use libreoffice and google docs for the most part! but if i'm in complete writers block, this website helps me a lot! it actually makes me write lmao

⛔do you have a fic you started, but scraped?

yep. i had a bttf prequel fic i wanted to write, but i eventually scraped it because the plot was pretty lame. also my brain was overtaken by other projects that matter more to me now, so it's not a big loss ;)

🙋‍♀️do any irl people know you write fanfic?

in my irl friend group, i usually disguise fanfic as "stories that go nowhere" instead of admitting that i post them for the enitre internet to discover and read. some friends know that it's specifically fanfic, though. my family knows nothing and i'd like for it to stay that way lol

💖what made you start writing?

personally, i've been loving to write since forever. i used to write short stories for myself, up until i discovered fanfic when i was 10. my drive to write fanfiction usually comes from my love for fandoms and characters, and the urge to add my own touch to already existing stories and put those characters into interesting scenarios. you can do so many things while keeping the characters you know and love, and that's really fun!

❌what's a trope you will never write?

y/n or oc x canon. i appreciate everyone who managed to insert y/n or oc into canon so well that the story still makes sense and is well written, but personally i could never do that. the already existing characters bring me enough inspiration to come up with stories, and i'm perfectly content with writing for them.

🤗what advice would you give to give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

don't be afraid to start! things like "but others are better than me" shouldn't stop you. yes, others are better than you. they will always be others who are more successful and have a different writing style that you may think as being better. but you will improve, and be proud of your own work. fanfic is something you write for yourself and also for free, it's your time you're investing and it's perfectly fine to be proud of the stories you tell! and there always will be people who genuinely enjoy what you write :)

wow that was a lot

🤯what's a genre you struggle with as a writer? (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

while i've slowly gotten a hang on romance, i stuggle with action scenes (simply because i tend to focus on emotion rather than plot). also horror? angst, yes. horror? no, nope. don't know how to write that.

thank you so much for the ask!

[sweetaplle]

Lifesaver post. It's 3 AM and I can't sleep and I'm bored as fuck and Max has so much lore it's not even funny. Ranting under the cut.

Max is your typical run of the mill cat furry. He doesn't really have anything too special in looks, but he doesn't really care.

Hold on a moment. Before I go into the lore, let's take a bit of a dive into how I came up with him in the first place.

So, first of all, back when I was eight or so, I was HUGE into writing, and I was HUGE into this series called Warrior Cats. (I really should get back into reading it again. I have only fond memories.) Naturally, I started to write fanfiction in journals once I discovered that it's accepted to write spinoff fics of series you love. They were in no way the best; overpowered characters, basic settings, cringey dialogue, and the star of this rant, a self-insert. Now, you see, I had created an OC before to represent me, called Mudtail. I wasn't creative at the time, so he just had brown fur and blue eyes (like my brown hair and blue eyes). But for one specific fanfiction, the main character was turned into a human for some reason. There, he met someone who would later be turned into Mudtail and assist with warrior duties: Max. Max was just a human, and in all honesty, he was literally just me. I even wrote in a poorly disguised attempt to insert the school I was going to at the time and my friends into that story.

Let's now go forwards, to a year later or something like that. Scratch was the big thing. You know, the coding website? I loved it. Not because of coding, but because it was basically Little Kid Social Media. In fact, I had a few friends on that site, mostly made from Warrior Cats roleplaying studios. My character of choice? Mudtail. Always. Without fail. Well, that's partially a lie; I occasionally used a warrior version of my pet cat, Ash. Looking back on it, this probably influenced my choices today in terms of rp.

Another flash forward, and I had gotten a discord account and a Reddit account. I joined a server dedicated to transformation enthusiasts, of which I learned about from Reddit. I didn't know why, but the concept of transformation just fascinated me. Well, turns out, I'd find out soon enough when almost everyone there ended up being a furry. Maybe some of it was peer pressure? Can you call it peer pressure when it helps you learn something about yourself? Cause I'm riding the "I am a furry" train as long as I live.

Now, the staple of every furry (or, so I assumed): a fursona. What would I do for my fursona? I couldn't think of a single thing. But I liked cats! And... it had been a bit, but my mind flashed back to those private fanfictions and those rps I did on the coding platform. All the pieces clicked together. I HAD a fursona! Mudtail was someone who I invented to represent myself, and was a cat. He just... wasn't quite a typical fursona. So I quickly amended that, and Mudtail, the newbie warrior, became Max, the expert magician.

Soon, I formed an RP server, where I fleshed out the lore of OC Max, who I do still consider to be my fursona nowadays. And that's where most of his lore comes from!

As for the lore itself, well, that is SO complicated. A lot of it hinges on magic, miracles, that sort of thing. Bear with me here. This was two years ago.

Max used to be a normal human in a plain and boring universe. Indeed, this is way more of a self-insert than I even anticipated; he also happened to be a furry. But at the age of 15, something happened to him, and he died suddenly. I think it was getting hit by a car? You can imagine this plot line brought up at least one truck-kun joke

Some sort of benevolent god or angel revived him. He had died too early, and was getting a second chance. A universe of his choosing, and a form of his choosing. That's how he became Max; all of that was his choosing.

His universe of choice: a universe where anthros are accepted, alongside humans. Where he could be what he wanted. And most of all, where magic existed. And magic definitely existed; from a young age, he started learning it. And he's still practicing it to this day.

I haven't fleshed out a LOT of his childhood. However, I do know that when he was 15 in this new universe (30, counting the prior experiences, which he remembered), he had learned enough magic to focus all his energy into a powerful spell that locked his age. All complications by old age have been removed; he'll forever feel and look 15. In part, this was a bit of sentimentality towards his death age.

At the point when I made him, he was 20 years old. A solid baseline. Recently, I've been forced to celebrate his 22nd birthday! He doesn't count years in terms of 15 + new universe age, he only counts it from his new universe. After all, that's when he's truly himself.

In the first rp he was ever in, he had a lot of stuff fleshed out about him that I'm way too tired to detail. He met a lot of people, and some of them ended up becoming his friends. He has a boyfriend, which, in reality, is just a clone of himself. (Though, not a hiveminded clone! That's too weird. No, this clone evolved and changed into a point where he might as well be someone else. He calls himself just C now.)

One of the things established in that rp that would end up becoming a huge point in making sure he stuck around even after the original rp ended was that he had made his magic so good that he was able to multiversally travel. Sure, it's a bit rushed, but yeah, he did it. And now that's the explanation for all this lore sticking around: him and two friends, Victor and Synthi, travel the multiverse looking for fun stuff to do.

Now where is he, you may be asking? Well, the second rp he's ever been in ended up starting with tragedy. Upon entering a universe, Victor's "unique" biology kind of just failed, making him basically explode magically and become really weak in energy and in magic. This segued really well into the rp at hand: Rhythm Doctor. Now, Max is forced to stay there, especially because Synthi's staying with Victor, like it or not.

Except... he doesn't stay there. He occasionally visits other universes. And by that, I mean that he's visited one other universe: an rp based on the game Lingo by Brenton Wildes. Yes. The word puzzle game. It... it's complicated. I’m not ready to explain how the FUCK you make something like that work. But it does, and he went to that universe, and met a few people. Upon arrival back to his universe, he met one of the people from that universe, but all of a sudden, they couldn't remember ever existing in Lingo Lore (the third rp name).

Now, Max's first thought should have been "oh, this is this universe's version of that guy!" (For the record, "that guy"'s name is Doug.) But after a bit of asking, he found out that Lingo Lore was stored as just a hazy dream in Doug's memory. So naturally, he had to keep an eye on this guy to report back to the other universe. Especially considering that Doug is 13 years old and ran away from home in this universe. Yeah.

So now Max is basically the adoptive parent of a teenager, stuck in a universe that isn't even his home universe, and trying to learn more magic even in an environment that doesn't have as high magical qualities as his home universe.

That's basically all of it. It's taken me an hour just to write this post (as of finishing this, it's 3:47 AM) and I'm actually tired now. Thanks for reading the rant, if you didn't just skip down to the bottom. And thanks for the post opportunity, Google News!

i want everyone in the reblogs of this post to put a rant about their ocs. it can literally just be typed out descriptions paragraphs, dynamic/in-universe memes for it, art, picrew, i dont care.

i want to see your oc propaganda either in my reblogs, or my asks.

[smoochkooks]

—hymne a l’amour (m.)

⟶ pairing: park jimin/reader

⟶ genre: smut, fluff, tiny bits of angst

⟶ word count: 5.5k

⟶ summary: it’s valentine’s day and your boyfriend decides to surprise you in more ways than one. and when you’re dating park jimin, cocky, smart and obnoxiously good-looking archeologist, you can be sure of absolutely nothing.

⟶ warnings: dom!jimin, sub!reader, big dick!jimin, sir kink, oral (m receiving), thigh riding, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, ass slapping, dirty talk, use of degrading names, unprotected sex, mentions of jimin having a daddy kink, jimin being disgustingly sweet boyfriend, oc having at least 2 (two) mental breakdowns, cringy valentine’s day presents

this is eldorado valentine’s day special but it can be read as a standalone. enjoy! xx

Spending Valentine's Day in the city of Paris is like walking through the streets of Beijing and smelling the strong essence of soy sauce and chicken every time you take a breath.

Overwhelming.

(Or at least that's what you think is a good comparison, since you've never stood your foot in Beijing before.)

Paris seems to be on another level when it comes to celebrating Valentine's Day. It's because that's the city of love, someone may say, but no, my friend, it's not just that. French grammar isn't the only stupid thing about said country. Citizens are even weirder, in more ways than one. It's the Eiffel Tower and the smell of garlic that disguises it all when you first visit France.  

A week before February 14th, restaurants, cafees and grocery shops are all covered from head to toe in red hearts, chubby cupids, big teddy bears, various kinds of roses and, at the top of that – everywhere you focus your eyes on, you spot those huge inscriptions where words ‘love’ and ‘I love you’ are spelled in hundred different types of swirly fonts.

It's all too kitschy for your liking but tourists and locals don’t actually mind it even a bit. Once a year Paris turns into a set of the most cliché rom-com and no matter how irksome it might feel, you just have to survive this festival of boofonery.

You've always despised Valentine's Day with every fiber of your being (mostly because you hadn’t had anyone you could actually spend this day with) but your judgement took a sharp three-sixty turn when certain blond, charismatic man entered your life. Now, while you’re happily taken, a romantic dinner and a bouquet of red roses don’t sound that bad.  

But when you're dating someone like Park Jimin, a smart-ass, cocky and obnoxiously good-looking archeologist, you can be sure of abosultely nothing.  

It's a little past ten, you’re laying in your king-size bed, a day before the actual Valentine's Day. Jimin informed you he was going to be late for dinner because of some extra paperwork he had to do in the office, so you patiently wait for him. Wrapped like a fancy Christmas gift in a new pair of flimsy, lacy lingerie you recently bought in Victoria’s Secret, all hidden underneath Jimin's baggy t-shirt (the combination of casual and slutty never fails to drive him crazy). The set is cute, in a baby pink colour. The last time you pulled a move like this, Jimin went hard, literally and lyrically.

Let's just say that Park Jimin (and his dick) likes high-quality underwear.

Dating Jimin has taught you a few things, one of them being that his sex drive is insatiable, so you always need to be prepared. That’s why you're now laying here, on your bed, freshly shaved and smelling of coconut, your precious pussy ready to be worshipped by Jimin's mouth.  

When you hear the familiar jingle of keys and the door to your apartment swings open, you squeal in excitement, grabbing your phone from the nightstand to scroll through it mindlessly so you don’t come across a girl whose only purpose in life is to get dicked down by her boyfriend.

(Which, right now, is your only purpose.)

“Babe, I’m home!”

You hear Jimin pulling off his shoes and coat, so you shout back, “I’m in the bedroom!”

He seemed to be in a good mood in the morning and if nothing's changed, you're positive about getting some action tonight. A well-deserved orgasm after work it's all you crave. You squeeze your thighs, and wait.

“God, I’m so fucking exhausted.” Jimin announces upon entering the room and as soon as those words leave his mouth, he collapses face down onto the bed. His lifeless corpse smells like sweat mixed with his usual cologne and you wrinkle your nose in disgust.

And that’s on getting railed by your boyfriend tonight.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he murmurs after a moment, voice laced with tiredness. He grunts and lifts himself up to place a chaste kiss on your lips. He tastes like bitter coffee and it makes you cringe, but you kiss him back nonetheless. He pulls off too fast for your liking and nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck instead. He cuddles into your side, mumbling something about you feeling warm.

In your head, you count. When was the last time you two had sex? Right, last Tuesday. Oh boy, what a night it was. Your ass still hurts a little while sitting on a chair, a byproduct of your boyfriend's palm landing smack after smack on your cheeks. Lesson learned: never smile too broadly to the waiter who blatantly flirsts with you. You're sure the whole appartment complex heard that night who makes you feel that good  

(As if they don’t already know.)

See? Park Jimin is unpredictable.

“How was work?’’ you decide to ask instead, clearing your thoughts from the inappropriate images of Jimin’s bare body pressed to yours as he fucked you that night. You thread your fingers through his blond locks just the way he likes, massaging his scalp.

He sighs, his words muffled when he speaks. “This new employee can’t do shit. I had to prepare everything before tomorrow's expedition by myself,” he says. “I have to tell Namjoon to fire his ass.”  

You falter your movements for a second. Right, the expedition. You completely forgot about it. Jimin's going to be out of town for the whole day, digging in the soil in some French village the name of you cannot pronounce.

It looks like your fancy lingerie has to wait for her big premiere a little longer.  

“What time are you planning to be back home?” you ask.

“Dunno. Probably late.” Jimin exhales loudly, his breath tickling your neck. His hand travels to your nude thigh, giving it a firm squeeze. You fight back a moan that threatens to spill from you mouth. You really need to get laid soon. “We set off at 6am.” he adds, tracing circles on your bare skin. Your smile drops.

So the plans for morning sex on Valentine's Day stay where they belong. In your dreams.  

“You're so soft. And you smell like coconuts. I could stay like this forever.” Jimin mumbles, circling your waist with his arms and pulling you even closer to him.  

You sigh, basking in this situation just for a while, stroking Jimin's hair and listening to his steady breathing until he eventually falls asleep. Still fully clothed, still with his hand on your thigh. Carefully, so you don’t wake him up, you get up from the bed to take off your underwear. You do feel a little disappointed, but it's okay.  

When you settle yourself on the bed next to Jimin again, your back facing him, a strong arm pulls you flush to his body. You hear him sighing with relief, and it makes you smile to yourself.  

Lights off, everything can wait for tomorrow.

In the morning, just like expected, you wake up alone. There's no sight of Jimin, his side of the bed empty and cold. For your dismay, there’s no bouquet of red roses waiting for you in the kitchen, no box of chocolates or a small, cheesy note with your name written on it. Not even a short “Happy Valentine's Day, baby!” text on your phone. Absolutely nothing.  

You tells yourself it’s fine. Maybe Jimin didn’t have enough time, maybe he was too occupied with expedition to prepare something special, maybe the big surprise is yet to come. However, you can’t quite shake off the feeling that something do seem odd and it makes you anxious. Leaving without a single text is not Jimin's style. Not when it's your first Valentine's Day spend together.

You probably shouldn’t worry that much. It's not a big deal, after all you hate those types of annual holidays and Jimin knows it. Yet something about the whole situation makes you uncontrollably uneasy. You have never been like this, vulnerable and sheepish. You hate Park Jimin for turning you into such a softie.

Walking through the streets of Paris makes you feel nauseous. You look at all the happy couples sucking each others’ faces for everyone to see and fight an urge to gag. Someone shouts “Love is in the air!” and you almost throw up. Everytime you see someone holding heart-shaped balloons or flowers, you whip your head in other direction. It's nothing, you keep reminding yourself. A stupid holiday that doesn’t mean anything at all.

But the actual nail to the coffin happens to be the atmosphere in Eldorado headquarters. It drives you absolutely crazy.

It's 12am and still no word from Jimin. You checked: this bastard was online one hour ago, so he just doesn’t want to talk to you. Fine, mister. If this is how you wanna play, try sucking your dick by yourself, beacuse I’m not getting near it anytime soon, you think to yourself, filled with rage.

Yeri wiggles her pretty eyebrows at you and asks about your plans for tonight. You fake a giggle, saying that Jimin will probably surprise you with something when he gets back from his expedition. The words taste bitter on your tongue, especially when the high hopes you had simply melted away this morning. Your friend then starts babbling about the restaurant she's going to with Jungkook after work and you listen to her rant with forced smile on your face the whole time.

Meanwhile, a few meters away from you Hoseok is giggling like a teenager, typing something on his phone, without a doubt (sex)texting his girlfriend. She's out of town and you’re more than sure Hoseok hasn't gone to bathroom ten minutes ago just to take a piss. Even Namjoon is in a pleasant mood today, humming some old ABBA hits under his breath. Yesterday he couldn’t shut up about his date with a girl who’s also his new neighbour. He met her when she came by to give him homemade croissants. Ironically, that sounds a lot like some kdrama lovestory to you, and Namjoon hates kdramas.

During lunch time, you scroll through your Instagram and almost slam your phone on the wall. There's a new photo uploaded on Kim Seokjin's account.  

kimseokjin92: Celebrating Valentine's Day on Maldives w @minsuga #couplegoals #boyfriends #valentinesday #loveislove

They are on fucking Maldives. Fucking Maldives! You grit your teeth. It's fine. Completely fine.

But the absolute peek, the moment when you almost break down into tears and curl yourself into a ball of misery, comes in the person of Jeon Jungkook. He enters the office with a bouquet of the most beautiful red roses you have ever seen, a huge grin plastered on his stupid face.

Your heart clenches in your chest. Park Jimin could never.  

Jungkook hands Yeri the flowers and she laughs, slapping his chest when he starts declaiming Romeo's monologue from the Shakespeare’s tragedy. He then kisses his girlfriend deeply and lovingly, making her cheeks flush in crimson. Hoseok coos at them, Namjoon following him. You swear you saw Jungkook's tongue in the process of said heavy make out session.  

(Jealously is an awful emotion, you've decided a long time ago.)

An hour later, the bouquet stands proudly on Yeri’s desk and you stare at it with melancholy. You briefly avert your gaze to Jimin's desk and the memories flash before your eyes. The same desk he had you bent over, skirt bunched around your waist and cock drilling into your pussy, when you both stayed together at work after hours not so long ago.  

You mentally slap yourself. Get your shit together, woman. It's not like he broke up with you. It's just some stupid holiday. It's nothing.

“Something's wrong?’’ Yeri asks you with genuine concern written on her face.  

You swallow, forcing yourself to smile. “No, everything's fine. Just a headache.”  

She eyes you suspiciously. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” you say. Even though your friend doesn’t look convinced, she eventually stops bothering you.

It's all good. My boyfriend forgot about our first Valentine's Day together but everything's alright. No worries, you want to say instead.  

Later that day, when you exit the elevator and walk straight to your apartment, a strange smell of something burning fills your nostrils. Is that food? A real fire? No, that's definitely some meat that stayed too long in the oven.

The closer you are, the smell becomes stronger, like it’s actually coming from your apartment. You furrow your eyebrows.

“What the fuck.” you mutter to yourself.  

When you open the door, your jaw falls slack, eyes wide like saucers.

Never, in your entire life, had you thought  you would see Park Jimin, your own dearest boyfriend, popping out from the kitchen with his hair disheveled, sweat coating his forehead, wearing a black suit underneath the most ridiculous apron you have ever seen: pink with a big-ass ‘mr good lookin is cookin' written in the middle.  

(Can someone remind you why are you dating him? Oh, thank God he isn’t naked underneath.)

He looks completely lost when he spots you, waving awkwardly in your direction. It's probably the first time he touched something in the kitchen that isn’t coffee machine. He’s so flustered that you almost forget he nearly turned your apartment into ashes.

“Hi, babe.” he says sheepishly.

It takes all the willpower you hold not to spit a lung watching your boyfriend who absolutely hates cooking, trying to look unimpressed by the smell of burnt food. He does a pretty poor job though, an apron not helping in the situation.

“Happy Valentine's Day!’’ he exclaims perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, approaching you and planting a kiss on your cheek. And after that, you burst into hysterical laughter.  

(Seriously, you almost lose your own breath three times.)

Jimin looks terrified but most importantly – put out. You’re probably hurting his enormous, almost the size of Russia pride right now. (Not your fault Jimin has the biggest praise kink on the planet.)  

“Why are you laughing? Is it because of the chicken? Fine, I can’t cook for shit but I tried, okay? I didn’t have enough time and it was the middle of the night in Korea so I couldn’t just facetime my mum for advice and-”

You interrupt his rambling with a searing kiss, effectively shutting him up. He falters for a moment but quickly catches up, pulling you closer to him, placing his hands on your waist and deepening the kiss.  

But then, when his about to trail kisses down your throat, you hit his arm.

“What was that for?!” Jimin yelps, looking at you with astonishment.

“I thought you fucking forgot about the Valentine’s Day!” you yell, slapping his chest. “Why didn't you tell me about this?!”

“Because the definition of surprise says you can’t reveal it sooner?” he reponds in a mocking tone.

“Oh, shut up.” you grumble and pull him in for another kiss. You could feel him smiling into it, cheekily biting onto your lower lip. He places a loving peck on your forehead and brushes the strands of your hair behind your ears. There's so much affection in his eyes you could melt into a puddle right here and there.

“I’m sorry. Jungkook told me you looked upset the whole day.” he whispers.

“I wasn't!” you protest.

“He told me you almost cried when he gave Yeri a bouquet of red roses.”  

This stupid brat.

You look up at Jimin. “Fine. I was mad. And sad. Everyone was having the time of their lives and here I was, on a verge of mental breakdown because my idiot of a boyfriend supposedly forgot about the Valentine's Day.” you say, crossing your arms over chest with a pout.  

Jimin rolls his eyes and takes your hand, leading you to the living room, where a bottle of (your absolute favourite) wine is standing on the table, along with candles and, yes, red roses. It's too cheesy and straight from the cringy rom-coms but you don't mind, because it's Jimin and he poured his heart into this and it's all that matters.

When he approaches you again, he isn’t wearing that stupid apron and you blush at how perfect he looks, almost painfully handsome. His hair needs a cut so it’s pushed back from his forehead. God reincarnated in the form of a smart, cocky archeologist who happens to be your boyfriend.

You're, well, in your black jeans and baby blue sweater and you probably stink, but Jimin assures you with his loving touches he doesn’t mind, never will. He always does that, looking at you with those sparkling eyes which say you're the most beautiful thing in the world for him.

And it doesn't matter how many times you scold him throughout the day, how many banters you have over silly things, because at the end of the day, in each others’ embraces, it feels like home for the both of you.

“Since the chicken chickened out,” Jimin says nonchalantly, filling your glasses with red wine. “We can always get drunk and watch some old romantic movies.”

You smirk. “You cried the last time when we watched ‘When Harry met Sally’.”  

Jimin clicks his tongue. “Don't test my patience, sweetheart or you won't get the presents.” he warns.

You raise your eyebrows. You hope one of them comes in the form of his dick. Suddenly, you’re reminded of your lingerie set, so you make a mental note to wear it after the shower. “Can I see those presents now?” you ask, looking at Jimin with pleading eyes. It's exactly three seconds till he softens.  

“Fine.” he mutters and heads to the bedroom.

When he comes back, he’s not alone. Literally not alone, because he's caring the most hilarious Valentine’s present you could ever think of. A giant, white teddy bear, almost in the size of him, heart-shaped balloons attached to his right paw.

“This is,” Jimin whips his head to read the name on the bear's chest. “Ted.”  

You blink. “You bought me a teddy bear named Ted?”  

Jimin opens his mouth to say some witty comment but he stops when he hears you sob. “Baby, sweetheart, what's wrong?” He kneels in front of you, the bear long forgotten on the floor. You burst into tears and Jimin tries to calm you down, rubbing soothing circles on your thighs.

Once you eventually stop crying and regain your normal breathing, you wipe your tear-strained cheeks and look down at your very much worried boyfriend. “You are an idiot, Park Jimin. A fucking idiot. That teddy bear is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen and I should humiliate you for giving me that but...” You take a deep breath. “But I can’t. Because I fucking love you, dumbass.”

The corners of Jimin lips lift in amusement but you’re clearly not done with your little speech, so he waits until you finish. “You organized the most cliché date ever. You read all the Grey's books. You can’t cook for shit and this stupid apron you wore? God have mercy,” You visibly cringe. “You declaim Greek philosophers when you shower. Fuck, you persuaded me to do teacher-student roleplay and I kept calling you daddy during the whole thing because you asked me to. You are everything I despise but at the same time I love you so much,” you say, tears once again welling in your eyes. “I’m sorry I’m telling you this now, even though I've realised this a long time ago.”

Jimin’s silent, so unlike him, declaring his emotions with a huge grin this time. He stands up and picks your body into his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist as he walks you both to your bedroom. He places you gingerly onto the mattress, hovering over your figure.

(Your fancy lingerie can wait for another occasion.)

“I love you too, ___.” he says, staring into your eyes. “You’re making me the happiest man in this world.”  

You roll your eyes, however there’s no use for that because your cheeks are already tainted red. “Oh, stop being such a sap.”  

He smirks. “You love when I’m like this.”  

“That is, in fact, not true.”  

You’re lying and he knows it, but he always lets you banter with him like this anyway.  

“Then what do you want me to be today?” he asks, his hands travel down to your zipper, then pull down your jeans. “Sweet? Loving?” He helps you take off your sweater and you’re left with nothing on beside your underwear. “Or do you want me to be rough? Push you around and fuck you stupid?” You gulp, your attitude successfully shut down. “Come on, use your words.”  

Somehow, you manage to gain your composure. “Want you to take off your clothes first.”  

Jimin chuckles, lowly and with a promise of more to come if you’re patient and behaving well, according to his commands. “You’re not the one to give orders here, baby.” he retorts. Then, he’s gripping your knees, pulling your legs apart and putting your pussy on full display for him.  

There’s already a dark, wet patch forming on your grey panties and he tsks disapprovingly. “You’re wet and I haven’t even touched you yet. You want it that much, huh?”  

You nod. “Please, touch me.”  

“Try again.”  

So he’s in that mood today. You’ve explored a fair share of kinks with Jimin so far and what you know for sure is that he always takes the leading role in bed. He likes to dominate, be the one in charge, railing you into the mattress until you’re crying out so loud your neighbours are banging on your walls.  

You slip into your role naturally, your usual confident behaviour gone and replaced with timidity. He relishes in seeing you like this, helpless and vulnerable, a stark contrast to how you act on daily basis.  

Jimin pins you with his dark stare and you give in. ‘”Yes, sir.”  

“Good girl.”  

He rewards you with a feather-like touch of his fingers on your pussy. He finds your clit with ease, rubbing it with practiced strokes until more juices drip down from your hole, wetting your panties embarrassingly fast. Your legs shake with want for more, to feel him sink his digits knuckle-deep into your cunt and finger you like he did that one time in a bathroom on your flight to Japan.  

He doesn’t seem the slightest bothered with your state, ignoring your pleading eyes and wanton moans. He hasn’t even taken off your underwear yet and you’re already on the verge of an orgasm.  

Jimin knows your body inside and out, probably better than you do, so it doesn’t come as a surprise to you that he can sense when you’re about to climax. He withdraws his hand from your center seconds before your release. You can’t help but huff with annoyance.

“Something's wrong, babygirl?” he asks, saccharine-sweet and annoyingly innocent.  

Your retort dies on your tongue the moment he decides to unbutton his white dress shirt. You’re too distracted with delicious lines of his sculpted chest to complain about your denied pleasure anymore. Your hands itch to touch him but you stay immobile, devouring him with your eyes instead.  

Jimin notices you're staring and smirks. “Like what you see?”  

You nod. “Yes, sir.”  

He then stands up from the bed and motions for you to come closer. You oblige without an ounce of confusion, crawling until you’re sitting on your heels in front of him. It’s a rather humiliating position but you can’t help but feel the rush of adrenaline in your veins when he cups your chin and tilts your head up.  

“Take off my pants.”  

You rush to obey, unbuckling his belt with shaky hands because you know what’s coming next once his pants are pulled down. He’s already hard, the prominent bulge of his cock straining in his briefs.  

“Now my underwear.”  

You nearly moan out loud when his cock slaps his abdomen, mouth salivating to take him in deep but you don’t dare touch him without a directed instruction. He makes sure your eyes are on him and starts stroking himself, spreading the precum all over his length, hissing when his thumb rubs the sensitive head of his cock.  

Jimin groans, low and throaty, and you whimper quietly in response. “What, baby? You want my cock that much?” he asks, his left palm cupping your cheek. You whisper a meek “Please” and he chuckles. “Come on then. Show me what that slutty mouth of yours can do. Open up.”  

Your lips part on command and you nearly moan when he guides his cock into your mouth. You’ve sucked Jimin's dick enough times to know what he likes, what brings him to the edge quicker than hitting the back of your throat. You lick the tip of his cock, eyes darting to check his reaction and, just as you expected, his features twist in pleasure.  

You relish in a minute or two of the control you have over him before he grows bored with your teasing and decides to fuck your mouth instead. But for now, you make sure to have him suffer a little for that stunt he pulled earlier when he didn’t make you come.  

You take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks for extra stimulation. Your hands reach to fondle his balls and you smirk around his cock when you hear a groan leave Jimin's mouth. “Good girl,” he murmurs, stroking your cheek. You lean into his touch, moaning at the praise. “My pretty slut.”  

The first hit on the back of your throat makes you gag because fuck, is he big. The only thing bigger than Jimin's ego seems to be his dick, apparently. When he threads fis fingers through your hair you know what’s about to come; jaw relaxed, saliva dripping down from the corners of your mouth, you’re ready to be ruined.  

He withdraws, giving you exactly five seconds to breathe and then pushes forcefully inside. Your mind is filled with mental images of him giving your pussy the same treatment later. You would whimper at the thought, if your mouth wasn’t stuffed full of dick. Instead, you give your best, swallowing every inch of him obediently.  

“That’s it,” he rasps, clamping one hand on the back of your neck for better leverage. “You’re doing so good, baby.” When he nudges the back of your throat again, you feel him throb. He pulls away from the warmth of your mouth seconds later, panting heavily. He falls back onto the bed and pats his thighs. “Come here.”  

You scoot closer to him and crawl onto his lap. He smiles at you from below, pulling you in for a kiss. The hands he previously gripped your waist with now travel upwards, unhooking your bra. Your hips unconsciously move, pussy gliding along the flexed muscles of his thigh.  

Jimin notices your desperate attempt at getting some friction on your most sensitive parts and helps you rock your hips. He moves your panties to the side and you moan, felling the delicious pressure on your bare center. He’s watching with amusement as you’re falling apart on his thigh, thumb reaching to rub your clit. You cry out, climaxing so hard you’re almost seeing stars behind your closed eyelids.

He keeps helping you ride out your high until you’re whimpering from the overstimulation. “Did you like it?” he then asks, urging you to look at him. “You were so desperate to come, sweetheart. Fucking yourself on my thigh like a bitch in heat,” You whine instead of responding, earning a harsh smack on your ass. “Use your words.”  

Another slap lands on your cheek and you mewl. “Yes, I loved it, sir.”  

He chuckles, maneuvering your body so you’re now positioned over his cock. He gives your ass a firm squeeze and you whimper, arousal dripping down the inside of your thighs despite orgasming just minutes ago. “Ride me, baby.” he says.  

You hurry to obey, guiding his cock inside you. It's a tight fit but your wetness makes it smoother to push him deeper. “So big,” you mumble, bottoming out. You know damn well Jimin likes to be praised and if the smirk that stretches on his lips is anything to go by, he enjoys what you just said. “That feels so good, sir.” You start moving your hips languidly.  

“Yeah?” Jimin quips, hands gripping your waist so tightly it almost makes the skin bruise. “Then show me what a good girl you are for me. Fuck, look at you. You’re so hot.” His palms cup your breasts, thumbs stroking your nipples.  

You keen at the praise and quicken your pace. Your thighs start to burn but you ignore that, bouncing on your boyfriend’s dick like there’s no tomorrow. The room is filled with lewd noises, skin slapping on skin. Jimin looks down, staring at his cock coated in your juices as it disappears inside your hole. He curses at the sight.  

Your legs start to shake, huffs leaving your lips. “Sir–please,” you whine, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge.  

“What do you need, babygirl?” he asks, pinching your nipples. You squeal, your pace losing its previous rhythm.  

“I’m so close.” you stammer. “Please–touch me.”  

“Where you do you want me to touch you, baby?” He ignores your whimpers, the way your pussy keeps squeezing his cock in a vice grip. “Here?” He touches your tits again and you shake your head violently. “Or here–” His fingers find your clit and you cry out loudly. You feel so full, his cock hits your cervix every time you drop down onto him.

“Yes, yes,” you chant, mouth wide open and eyes squeezed shut. You probably look right now like a professional porn star but you couldn’t care less, not when you’re so close to the climax. “Sir–fuckfuckfuck, please!”

“There you go,” Jimin coos, circling your sensitive bud with his thumb. “Come for me, baby.”  

You’re gushing around his dick, arousal leaking out of your hole and coating his thighs with your release. Your upper body gives out and you collapse onto Jimin, your cunt pulsing from the intense pleasure you’ve just experienced.  

“Oh god,” you mumble. “I just saw the answer to the whole universe.”  

You feel Jimin's chest shaking with laughter and when you look up, you find him grinning at you. “That good?”  

“That good.” you confirm, sighing tiredly.  

“Are you okay?” You hear him asking. No matter how much he likes to push you around and fuck until you’re seeing stars, he always makes sure if you’re feeling comfortable to continue.  

You spare him a nod. “You know I can handle it,” you say, lifting yourself up. “I’m a tough girl, right?” Despite the oversensitivity, you start rocking your hips again. “M-made for you.”

Jimin smirks. “Yeah, made for me,” he confirms and slaps your ass. Your pussy flatters around his cock. “Not like this,” he mutters and turns you onto your back with one, swift motion. “Much better.”  

You pout. “You didn’t like it when I was riding your cock, sir?” You’re bluffing, but a girl can her fun too.  

He clicks his tongue, guiding his cock through your folds again. “Oh, baby, I was enjoying it very much,” he says, picking up his speed. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him even closer. “But now I want it harder.”  

He fucks you just like he likes the most; fast and rough, unforgiving. He leans down for a messy kiss that’s all teeth tongue and his eyes nearly bulge out of his head when he sees his saliva dripping down your chin.  

(He decides right here and there that he might wanna explore his newfound fantasy soon.)

Soon you’re feeling the coil in your stomach tightening for the second time, embarrassingly quickly so. You moan, cunt squeezing around his dick. “Again?” Jimin asks, voice laced with both mirth and disbelief. Tears well in your eyes and you give him a nod. “Such a fucking slut.” he spits, slithering himself into you even faster than before.

Your third and final orgasm is so powerful and sudden, it nearly makes you black out. Jimin curses, fucking you through it. “Kiss me,” you whimper deliriously and he obliges, slipping his tongue inside your mouth. “I love you.” you whisper into his lips and that’s what sends him over the edge.

“I love you, I love you–fuck.” he groans and spills himself inside, coating your pussy with his seed.

He collapses next you, chest heaving with every exhale. Your legs feel like jelly and you know you’ll have trouble walking tomorrow. Just when you’re about to tell Jimin to call in sick and spend the whole day in bed instead, he suddenly sits up.

“Wait, I forgot I have another present for us.” he says, rushing to pick something up from underneath the bed.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Jimin, I swear to God, if you bought us matching t-shirts–”

He grins like a child, showing you two white pillows, the most basic ones you could ever think of, with ‘his side’ and ‘her side' written on them. It's cringy and ridiculous and you fight an urge to punch him, but you don't.  

Because it's Jimin and you will never complain about it.

Because you love him. And that's all that matters.

[fific7]

Even His Name - Part 1

Sirius Black x OC

Summary: Friends forever? Maybe. Maybe not.

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, slight consent issues, 18+ please due to NSFW content including unprotected* sex. The age of consent in the UK is 16, sorry if that’s not in line with the laws in your own country/state.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

A/N: Looking at this photo, I can kinda see why Ben Barnes got fancast as Sirius Black. This story is non-canon and takes place in my imaginary HP AU with OC, Celeste (meaning celestial or heavenly).

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Sirius Black. Even his name was beautiful.

She watched his tall, lean figure approaching as she sat & relaxed against one of the shady trees beside the lake.

She drank in every last detail before he got too close, before her out-and-out staring was noticeable to him.

The lazily slouching but graceful walk, his long legs eating up the distance between them.

The pale, porcelain-like skin, the aristocratic cheekbones, the trendy light scruff of moustache with matching scruff along his jawline, the full sensuous lips, the famed long black wavy hair. And of course, those hypnotic grey eyes, ringed by long dark lashes. Those eyes could change like mercury, from silver to dark pewter within a heartbeat.

As he got got closer, her eyes almost totally closed, but she wasn’t dozing off, it was a ruse to disguise her intense staring. Her eyes continued to eat him up like he was a very large chocolate eclair.

It was Saturday, so no school uniform. Trademark bad-boy attire, then. Her heart sped up at the sight of the scuffed leather biker jacket, the Led Zeppelin t-shirt, distressed jeans & leather work boots. Not properly laced up... of course.

All in black, a living embodiment of his name.

She heaved a long sigh, letting it escape without thought, and her eyes closed fully.

She was aware of a shadow blocking the sunlight falling on her closed eyelids. The sound of somebody settling themselves down next to her, still partly casting a shadow onto her.

Her eyes opened a sliver, and her head rolled to the side towards him of its own accord.

“What’s the big sigh for, Celeste?” in his deep, slightly hoarse, breathy voice. The voice which sent a thousand female hearts beating like drums.

“Sirius.” She sighed again, her eyes opening slowly. “You’re blocking my sun.”

He grinned, chuckling. He gestured to his body with one hand, “This ... masterpiece... of a man joins you for a pleasant interlude by the lake, and all you can say is that I’m blocking your rays?!”

“Yeah.”

He chuckled again. “Ah c’mon, you know you love me.”

She rolled her head back to its original position. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“And maybe it’ll come true?” he smirked.

“When hell freezes over.”

He leant over, placing his head on her shoulder as he did so, puppy dog eyes in play, complete with pouted bottom lip.

“Now, you know that isn’t true. You’re desperate to get me into the sack.”

“But, Sirius,” she said innocently, “there wouldn’t be enough room in the bed for me, what with you and your massive ego already in it.”

His head shot back, his unmistakable & glorious barking laugh issuing forth & attracting the attention of every female within earshot.

“You’re hysterical,” he continued laughing, more quietly. “No, I’m Celeste,” she smirked, throwing her version of his favourite line back at him.

He groaned, “You’d use my own comeback against me? Really?”

“Every time,” she nodded.

He was grinning back at her, when she was suddenly aware of another shadow falling across her. She frowned involuntarily, looking up to see who it was. A tall Ravenclaw girl stood there, confidently smirking down at Sirius. She didn’t spare his current companion even a glance.

“Hi,” she smiled brightly at him. “Thought you’d maybe like to take a walk with me, Siri?” giving him a suggestive sideways look, all the while twirling a strand of her long brown hair round a finger.

Celeste rolled her eyes, smirking & tutting loudly. She muttered, “Pathetic,” under her breath & began to gather her books, getting ready to ‘exit stage left’.

Sirius looked over at her, smiling and laying his hand on her arm, stilling her movement.

He looked up at the other girl. “Sorry, love,” he said with a grin, “spending some one-on-one time with my best girl here.”

She still didn’t look at his ‘best girl’. “Well, why don’t I just join you here while you do that, and then we can go for a walk by ourselves afterwards?”

Sirius looked down, and Celeste knew what was coming next. He’d given her his polite brush-off, now here came the not-so-polite one.

“Didn’t you hear what I just said? I’m here with Celeste,” he said, voice harsh, glaring back up at her.

She stopped twirling that lock of hair, recoiling from his glare & tone. “Well, you know, I just thought...”

“You just thought wrong then, didn’t you! Now, run along dear, off you go.” Voice cold, eyes narrowed.

She turned on her heel and scuttled back to her little band of giggling friends. Something told Celeste that her friends wouldn’t be all that sympathetic. If there was one thing almost guaranteed to break up friendship groups, it was who did, or didn’t have, Sirius’ attention.

Celeste laughed, “Lordy, I don’t know how you put up with all that fangirling.... ‘Siri’.” she imitated the girl in a high-pitched tone. “They make me ashamed to be a woman. Don’t they have any self-respect?!”

Sirius laughed, “But Cel, they’re just rightfully worshipping ... this!” Again, one hand gesturing up & down the length of his body.

“What.. a skinny boy?” she questioned, looking him up & down, “Really? What’s the attraction then?” she laughed.

He’d sat up straight as she’d been speaking, faux offended. “Celeste! How could you? Firstly, I am a man, not a boy.”

“Sirius, you’re sixteen. You.. are.. a.. boy!”

“Nah, nah, nah! I.. am.. a.. man!” dramatically emulating her slow delivery before continuing, “And I’m nearly seventeen. Secondly, I am not skinny. I’m tall and athletic.”

“Skinny.”

“Athletic!”

She laughed. “You don’t even play Quidditch any more. So where do you get this ‘athleticism’ from? Running away from Filch and the prefects after a prank?!”

“Thank you for answering your own question!” he said, laughing back at her.

He again leant towards her, eyes boring into hers, changing to dark & stormy mode, lips so close that she felt the little huffs of his breath on her own lips as he spoke.

“Don’t fight it, Cel. Just give in and admit you want me! We’ll head to my dorm right now and spend the entire night together, having hot, sensual, sheet-tangling sex!”

She burst out laughing, turning away momentarily, eager to break the close proximity to him. “The gods love a trier, Sirius. Pity I don’t.” She looked back at him, “And no doubt one of your fangirls is already curled up under your quilt, just waiting on the god that is Sirius Black to arrive and rock her world!!”

“My bed is exclusively reserved for you.”

“OK... curled up in her bed then, waiting on Mr I Never Stay The Night to arrive.”

“You pierce my heart!”

“Sirius, you may be one of my closest friends, but I can honestly say that you, within just the last few weeks, have become a total man-whore. And a barely legal one at that.”

“Celeste!! Just bloody well admit you want me.”

“Can’t that huge ego of yours handle the fact that there’s at least one girl in this school who doesn’t drop her panties the second you look at her?!” her laughter pealed out over the surrounding area, catching the attention of and sparking the venomous jealousy of the Sirius Fangirls’ Club.

He also burst out laughing, inciting the Fangirls even more.

“Ah.... Cel, my ego is perpetually the size of a peanut whenever you’re around.” Innocence personified, wide grey eyes gazed at her. “It never gets the chance to grow any bigger.”

Then the trademark smirk appeared. “Unlike a certain other part of my anatomy.” One eyebrow quirked up at her, long fingers slinking down onto his jeans zip. She couldn’t stop her eyes following them. His lips slid upwards into a pleased grin.

“Urggghhh!” she groaned, closing her eyes briefly before starting to pack up her stuff. “On that note, I’m off!”

“Awww, don’t go! This was just about to get interesting. You almost agreed to give me a quick blowjob!”

She stood up, brushing grass off her denim cutoffs and slipping on her low wedge sandals. Sirius raked his eyes up and down her figure as she did so.

She leant back down to him, knowing full well that he was getting an eyeful down her tastefully low-cut frilly top. She had on a translucent lacy bra, and she heard his breath catch as soon as he spotted it.

Putting her lips right next to his ear, she said, “Firstly, I don’t give blowjobs to sixteen-year-old skinny boys.” She huffed out a breath onto his earlobe, “And secondly, even if I did, it would.. not.. just be a quickie, darling.”

She pulled back and stood up straight, looking down at Sirius. A deep pink blush was spreading up from his neck over the entirety of his handsome face, his mouth hung slightly open and his eyes were wide, a glazed look in them.

She grinned, starting to walk away, “Have fun with the fangirls, Sirius!”

He was still staring after her when the first wave of girlies washed over him, clamouring for his attention in various tried, tested and (to him, at that moment) very tedious ways.

They were all to be disappointed. Sirius swatted them off like they were so many irritating mosquitoes, stretching out & lying on his back with his hands crossed under his head, staring up into the blue of the early autumn sky, deep in thought.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

She leisurely strolled back to the castle, sniggering to herself at how easy it had been to wind Sirius up into a tight spring.

Her smirk dropped somewhat though, when she contemplated the bigger picture. What a shitshow.

She was slap-bang in the middle of the biggest cliché the fates had ever created. Best friend really fancies best friend, but won’t admit it in case it either doesn’t work out and/or ruins the friendship. Yeah... that old chestnut.

Sighing, she made her way to the Gryffindor common room, spotting Lily and Mary on their favourite corner sofa. She plopped herself down next to them, instantly becoming enmeshed in the girlie gossip which was currently in progress.

However her mind drifted to the beginning of that school year, their sixth, when she and Sirius had met up again after the summer holidays on the Hogwarts Express. She’d been frankly amazed at the change in him after such a short time.

From awkward, gawky schoolboy to man-god in the space of a couple of months.

She learned from him that he’d run away from Grimmauld Place at the beginning of the holidays and was now living at the Potters’. She was very glad to hear that, knowing what he’d gone through at the hands of his parents. He certainly seemed to be thriving there, having apparently sprouted quite a bit over the summer.

Everything about him suddenly seemed long & slim. Long legs and arms, with big hands and big feet to match. Long slim fingers. Long slim feet & toes which she stared at, fascinated, every time she caught a glimpse of them.

She’d instantly known that their friendship would change in future. She’d never thought of Sirius as anything except a little schoolboy buddy, but over the summer he’d emerged from his post-pubescent chrysalis as a hot, sexy teenager with shoulder-length hair, designer stubble and attitude with a capital A.

He’d always attracted a fair bit of female attention over the years. He’d never really acted on it though, too caught up in Marauders mischief to care.

But holy hell...now? All the girlies were going to go batshit crazy over him.

He’d also - right there on the train no less! - boxed her into a corner and immediately started flirting up a storm, which had mildly terrified her. This was the guy who, only two months before, had been a kind of surrogate brother figure in her life for the previous 5 years.

Now he was making sexual innuendoes and inviting her into his bed every five minutes. She just couldn’t figure out his agenda.

As predicted, at the start of term, the Hogwarts female population - irrespective of year - quickly lined up behind Sirius and adoringly dogged his every footstep. As did a fair proportion of the male population, it has to be said.

Sirius quickly accepted his new-found godlike status & revelled in it. Flirting his way around school and through classes and meals. Getting caught in broom closets, empty classrooms and corridors, snogging for Britain.

It was only 4 weeks into the new term and she already found it all mildly disgusting. Hence she’d decided to knock the flirtatious idiot back down a peg or two every chance she got.

However, his flirting behaviour with her hadn’t dialled back at all, if anything it had increased, and this is what she was pondering on.

Her name was suddenly yelled right into her face. Lily was staring at her as if she was an alien.

“Uh, sorry - what?”

“We’ve been waiting on you to answer Mary’s question, for like, 15 minutes.”

“Oh shut up! I just zoned out for a minute or two.”

Mary sniggered, “And no prizes for guessing who the subject matter of said zoning out was!!”

She sighed. “OK, OK, alright - yes - it was Sirius.”

Scoffing noises from her friends.

“Look - I just can’t get my head round the way he’s still behaving towards me. Flirting & shit.”

She shook her head, and continued, “This was my annoying little ‘school brother’ 3 months ago! So he’s either had a brain meltdown and actually fancies me, or else he’s practicing all that crap on me to then use on his fan girls! And let’s be honest, one reason’s as bad as the other!”

They both exchanged significant looks, grinning at each other.

She huffed, “What’s wrong now?! I’ve just told you what’s on my mind!”

“Can you, hand on heart, swear you don’t fancy the pants off Sirius?” asked Lily.

“Look, I can see why girls find him attractive, yeah. But you’re forgetting that for five years, he was...”

“Yeah, yeah,” interrupted Mary, rolling her eyes, “..your surrogate little brother.”

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@omgrachwrites

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

[spiderlilyserendipity]

omg violet you write so well!! if you can, could you write a taehyung nsfw of while on vacation, tae's girlfriend wakes him up early with kisses and promises to do "whatever he wants" if he gets up with her and explores the city and tae holds her to that promise when they get back to their hotel starting with some steamy (private) hot tub sex?

Anon, you are awesome but you have ruined my brain. I got so carried away writing this fic, it is double the size I thought it would be. Many thoughts, head full typa situation. Thank you. This one is titled Only One. Enjoy <3

WC: 4475

Genres: Smut, fluff, angst

Tags: established relationship, anniversary dinners, tae x oc take a trip to Paris

Warnings: dom/sub relationship, dom!taehyung, sub!reader, sir kink, punishment, praise kink, use of the word slut once, colour system as a safeword, insecurity, possessiveness, possessive sex, aftercare, taehyung is very 🥵🥵🥵 in this one y’all

(*Cis female reader*)

“Y/N, Y/N, should we take a picture over there?” Taehyung asks, batting his eyes cutely.

You smile but roll your eyes at Taehyung’s enthusiasm.

Not to be mistaken, if there’s anyone who loves their boyfriend, it’s you. You would live and die for Kim Taehyung, but there’s a special reason for your eyeroll today.

It has been only two weeks since Taehyung got off tour, and at that a world tour. You know Taehyung must be very tired from constantly travelling, hence why you let your boyfriend get his full rest the first week. But the thing is you haven’t seen your lover in a year, and you want to make some memories with him. 

You know he will get too busy once the post-tour lull passes over everyone at the company and everything goes back to regular schedule. Then, Taehyung will get sucked away by album preparations, promotions once it’s out, and inevitably: another tour.

You love that Taehyung gets to do what he loves for a living. You also love how cool he looks on stage. But most of all you like getting to spend time with him. 

To be honest, you were going to go see Taehyung in Paris during the European leg of the tour. It had been your anniversary, and the two of you had plans to get dinner together and enjoy the city. But then life happened and your plans came crashing down, preventing you from seeing Taehyung until the tour ended months later.

But past you had thought quickly, knowing the day Taehyung would return home and shifted your ticket instead of cancelling. So a week after Taehyung got home, you presented him with a second plane ticket to Paris, France that you bought last minute just for him.

You thought Taehyung would agree with making up for your missed anniversary, but Taehyung had frowned instead. “Babe, I seriously don’t want to go anywhere for a while. I’m sick of hotels and planes.”

“But I’ve never been there, baby. It would be so romantic!” You convinced him eventually, your pout winning him over. Taehyung had sighed, then called his manager to let him know.

So excited from Taehyung agreeing, you had leapt up into his arms and kissed him like crazy. “Ahhh! I’m so excited!”

Taehyung had held back a grin. “Okay. But no touristy stuff.”

You pout. “But that’s the most fun part!” When Taehyung pouts back, you try to convince him again. “Baby, I promise I’ll seriously do anything you say if you do all the embarrassing touristy stuff with me.”

“Anything?” Taehyung asked you, arching a brow. 

You took his hand, nodding eagerly. “Anything. Let’s just have fun!”

Taehyung grinned at you. “You better keep your word.”

You had kissed him, grinning at him. He watched you with a fond smile, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You bet I will.” You vow.

It isn’t until you actually land in Paris that you realize what anything Taehyung is imagining.

For all his great qualities, Taehyung is not subtle about what he wants. Especially when he wants you.

The first three days, Taehyung lets you drag him around under the condition that you both wear disguises to avoid being noticed. You comply, picking odd hours of the day for activities that would be very busy at other times of day. You hit all the touristy spots in early mornings before the crowd, hide away in small tucked away cafes and restaurants with Taehyung during lunch hour, then spend the day browsing vintage stores for jewellery and clothes. 

It’s all fun and games except for the teasing that Taehyung will not stop. It’s hard for you to name a time of day where Taehyung’s big hands hadn’t been resting on your waist or his lips idly pressing a kiss to your cheek in passing. You know very well the game Taehyung is playing. He is slowly working you up, getting you used to his constant touches. Then, he will withdraw them, leaving you needy. 

Despite Taehyung’s teasing, the two of you still have a great time. You buy souvenirs for your friends and things for yourself. Taehyung also buys you clothes and jewellery, loving to spoil you. But what you love the most are the small establishments he brings you to, full of tasty food and where no one knows his name. You know the game Taehyung is playing, but you let him guide you to an isolated table towards the back and feed you food off his own utensils. You let him wipe the corner of your mouth for some smeared sauce, let him lick it off his thumb. Sometimes, you even get a little on your face on purpose. Taehyung notices when you do that, and lets you get away with it. After all, this isn’t a favour he’s doing you. This is your anniversary trip. He can’t be the only one getting away with teasing.

The following three days, the two of you hit the museums. Taehyung shows you around, explaining things he had seen on previous trips to Paris. You listen to him, happier to see him happy than to really look at the art. You take pictures of your boyfriend inside the museum and really anywhere it won’t catch too much attention.

Over those three days, Taehyung’s touches decrease. He reduces it little by little, but you know him well by now. Taehyung isn’t trying to be subtle, rather the opposite. He wants you to notice, to get riled up when his touch is gone. 

You tell yourself you don’t mind it, but both of you know it’s a lie. You ignore the smirk on Taehyung’s face every time you intertwine your hands or wrap an arm around his waist to guide him through the back roads. You will get back at him at dinner tonight.

After lunch on the final day, you tell Taehyung to head back to the hotel on his own. You say you are going to buy a new dress for your dinner date tonight, and that you want it to be a surprise for him. Chuckling, Taehyung just passes you his blackcard and tells you to have fun.

You buy a dark green coloured gown, Taehyung’s favourite colour, and a matching necklace and earrings set of emeralds. You smile at the sight of your ass being cupped by the silky material. This is sure to drive Taehyung mad. After all, tonight is the final night. Both of you know exactly how tonight will end.

You catch a cab to the five star Taehyung made a reservation at. You pay the taxi driver excitedly, getting out in your all new outfit, new heels, and even a new purse! You were sure to impress Taehyung.

You walk into the restaurant, telling the waiter who you’re here with. He lets you in, guiding you upstairs to your table.

You frown as you see your table. From this angle, you can’t see who, but Taehyung is talking to a woman. You approach quietly, catching neither of their attention. Luckily (or unluckily) for you, they’re talking loudly. You don’t speak much French but you don’t need it to deal with this woman. You hear her mention the word “model” and a woman’s clothing brand. You hear her repeat “model” a second time as she blatantly roams her eyes down Taehyung’s figure, then up at him. That’s the part that makes your blood boil. You know she is aware of your presence. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what kind of relationship you and Taehyung have.

But she still challenges you anyway, openly eyeing your man in public. If you could speak more French than basic small talk you would rip her a new one. 

Fuck it. You think, making your way across the room. Who needs to know the language?

“Oh, baby.” You say in a sweet voice. They both look over at you. The woman looks visibly irritated, pursing her perfect lips in annoyance. What a shame you like to flirt with other women’s men. You think, slightly in awe at her beauty. I’d like you in any other situation. “Is this a friend?” You ask.

You see a hint of a smile before Taehyung bites it back. “No, Y/N. We just met tonight.”

You smile pointedly at the woman. She frowns at you. “Ah, I see. Well, it was nice meeting you. We haven’t had dinner yet, so.” You say, pretending to be apologetic for cutting the conversation short. All three of you know you’re not, but it’s the thought that counts. Or doesn’t. You couldn’t care less.

“Colour.” Taehyung asks the minute you’re back in the hotel room. 

“Green.” 

“Poor baby. Got so angry that I took my eyes off you, huh?” Taehyung teases, hooking his fingers in the band of your underwear. He pulls back, making it snap against your hips. You whimper. “What’s that? Are you trying to say something?” Taehyung taunts you.

He cranes his head to look at you. He cups your face and makes you look at him. He makes a fake-worried face. “That’s odd, you were talking perfectly fine a few hours ago. Was it something in the food that’s making you feel sick or are you just embarrassed from being a possessive little slut in front of sir?”

His words make you shiver. He grins as he feels it against his own abdomen. “It seems like you’re really sick, Y/N. I guess we'll just have to go to bed.”

He begins to unwind his arms from around your waist, but you grab them, holding them against your skin. “S-Sir.” You whisper.

“There’s my girl.” Taehyung says proudly, rewarding you with a kiss to your temple. “Let’s talk about what you did wrong tonight, shall we?”

“I-I was possessive. I got jealous because you were talking to that model.”

Taehyung’s eyes flicker at the last word. “Oh, you heard?” He snaps the band of underwear against your skin again. You wriggle, but he refuses to let you go. “What a bad girl. Eavesdropping on sir’s conversations. What if she had been a potential colleague and you ruined everything? But you didn’t think of any of that, only your. own. feelings.” He emphasizes each of the three words with another smack. “You’re just an ungrateful little slut, aren’t you? I bet you would open your legs for any man that offered you this kind of treatment, huh?” He growls in your ear.

“I-I’m sorry.” You whisper, voice cracking.

Taehyung stops. “Colour.” He says, thumbs gently stroking at your sides.

“Green.” 

“Y/N.” He repeats more firmly. You sniffle. A tear rolls down your cheek. Taehyung thumbs it away immediately. “We don’t have to. I’m sorry. Do you want to take a bath together? We can cuddle after. Anything you’re comfortable with baby.”

You shake your head, looking away from him. “I’m really okay. I...I want my punishment.”

Taehyung turns you to look at him. He watches your face, looking for any unwillingness. He cups your face and makes you look at him. He smiles finally when he sees the familiar, hazy look in your eyes. You are already slipping into subspace.

“Follow me.” Taehyung says.

You walk behind him, still naked except for your panties. Taehyung is still entirely clothed in his suit and tie. He leads you to the fancy living room of the suite, and closes the curtains. You wait until he sits down to approach him. You observe his spread legs and the stern look in his eye. The air in the living room is freezing cold, but it only adds to it. This is one of the many things you love about Taehyung. How incredibly sexy he looks when he is in control.

Without being asked, you get on the sofa on your hands and knees. You drape your body over Taehyung’s lap, ass up in his lap. You fold your arms over the sofa’s armrest, turning your head to look at Taehyung. 

Taehyung’s warm hand caresses your ass. He kneads at the flesh roughly without breaking eye contact with you. On the outside, he looks indifferent, dark eyes sultry. He makes it look like he couldn't care less if it was you or another sub being bent to his will. But you know it’s part of the scene, that he’s watching you this intensely for your reaction and it is only your reaction he ever wants in a setting like this.

“You can safeword out if you need to.” He reminds you. You nod, putting your head against the armrest. “Count.” He tells you, before the first smack comes down.

You flinch on instinct, but his arm pins the backs of your thighs down. “One.”

Another smack but to the other cheek. You hiss under your breath. “Two.”

Taehyung gives the next three in succession. “F-Five.”

“Colour?” Taehyung re-checks. You reply green again. He delivers two more. “Six, ah, seven.”

The next two smacks are harsher. “Eight, nine一!” As you’re counting, Taehyung gives the final one. This one is the hardest of all, making the two of you sink a little lower into the sofa. “T-Ten.”

You are crying now, falling deeper into your subspace. Taehyung’s warm hands smooth over the places they hit. His voice murmurs sweet nothings in your ear, reassuring you.

“S-Sorry.” You continue to cry. “I didn’t mean to be like that.”

“I know.” Taehyung reassures you. He helps you up into a sitting position. It burns to sit on your still painful ass, but you do so anyway because it’s Taehyung who asks you to do it. “You took my punishment very well, Y/N, just like a good girl.”

You shake your head, sniffling. “I don’t wanna be ‘a good girl’, I wanna be your good girl.” You say. Taehyung frowns slightly as he wonders what that means, then looks shocked when he realizes what you’re saying.

“You are my good girl, baby.” He says softly, wiping away your tears. “No one but you.”

“But i-it was our a-anniversary dinner and you were letting her flirt with you. You just一just let her do it. And when I called you baby at the restaurant, you only called me Y/N.” You confess, giving up your fake confident act. The truth is that despite your anger in the moment, you had felt very insecure. It wasn’t like you could blame the woman for finding your boyfriend hot, anyone would. But the fact that Taehyung never said anything back and just put up with it instead of correcting her bothered you. Was it embarrassing to admit he was dating you in front of a woman who was so obviously his equal in elegance? This thought bothered you throughout the whole dinner. 

You didn’t plan on telling Taehyung about it, since he didn’t know you sometimes felt this way. One of the reasons you insisted on travelling to make up for your missed anniversary was this doubt. Maybe if you showed him around this fancy city and you made good memories with him, he might appreciate it. Maybe then it would ease your doubt of if you were worthy enough to be his.

You had never admitted this aloud to anyone, but you actually wondered If Taehyung had women in other countries that he went on dates with during tour. You know Taehyung is a good person but after all, he is a young man with sexual needs. And at that, a very attractive man who could get with just about any woman he wanted. So yes, seeing him talk to the very attractive woman had angered you, but it also made you feel like your worst fears might be true. 

“Y/N, talk to me, baby.” Taehyung pleads you, his worried brown eyes searching your face for any answers.

“...Can I ask you a question?” 

“Of course, my love.” Taehyung responds. “Ask me anything you want, baby.’

You sniffle. You play with his suit blazer. “Can you promise to not get mad at me?”

Taehyung looks like he might cry when you ask that. “I promise.”

“When you go away for tour...is there anyone else?” You watch your own tears fall onto Taehyung’s dress shirt. Taehyung looks shaken. “It might seem random but I’ve always wondered. I promise I’m not just acting up because of tonight.”

Taehyung continues to watch you, looking worried and at a loss for words. You put on a fake smile. “Sorry, it’s probably nothing. Let’s just go to bed.” 

Taehyung holds you by the waist, stopping you from getting up. “Y/N.”

“I said it’s fine. It’s okay. Really, even if you had another woman. I can’t control what you do when you’re not with me. A year is too long for a couple to spend apart anyway, it’s only natural that your feelings would change. It’s okay. Anyway,” You breathe shakily. “Anyway I’m still yours. As long as you like, of course.”

“Of course I like it.” Taehyung insists, tears glistening in his eyes. “I love you. Tell me how long you’ve felt like this.”

You hesitate. “Y/N.” There it is again, that firm tone that you hate outside of scenes. 

You look down at your hands. “Maybe two years?”

Taehyung is crying now, and he cups your face in his hands. “You’ve been thinking like this for two years? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“...I didn’t want to burden you. You’re really busy on tour.”

Taehyung purses his lips. “Can I show you there’s no one else?”

You nod. Taehyung lifts you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He holds you by the backs of your thighs instead of your ass, careful not to hurt you. “The bed?” He asks. You consider the feeling of the rough sheets against your sore ass. 

You shake your head. “C-Can we use the hot tub?”

Taehyung kisses your forehead. “Anything for you.”

Taehyung sets up the hot tub for both of you. He takes your panties off for you, sliding them down your legs. He kisses you deeply, sweetly. You whimper into the kiss, his tongue completely in control of your mouth. When you part, a strand of saliva comes loose. When you part far enough, the saliva ends up on your chin. Taehyung wipes it with his thumb. A darkness has entered his eyes again. “Get in. Let me show you how much I love you.”

You get in the hot tub, relishing the feeling of the hot water. It stings a bit, but it’s easier to sit then the bed would have been. You sit with your legs spread slightly, calves tucked under you and feet beneath your ass. Neat and pretty. Just the way sir likes it.

Taehyung strips quickly once you’re in the water. Your eyes roam over his beautiful body, at the hard muscle of his chest, his bulging biceps, his caramel thighs, and his rigid cock. “Come here.” Taehyung orders as he gets in the water. You do so, climbing up into his lap. He kisses you hungrily, like this is the first time all night. You are surprised at the intensity of this kiss. You cannot recall a time Taehyung has ever kissed you so passionately in your years together, even in your roughest scenes. 

“So pretty.” Taehyung growls when you two part again. He wraps one arm around your waist to press your chest against his, then attacks your neck. You gasp as he makes love bites, all the way down your neck. He has never made this many before in total, yet he makes them everywhere tonight. He litters your collarbone and the top of your chest with them, making them bloom red at first but you know they will be a deep purple shade tomorrow. “How can you not know what you mean to me, when you’re this fucking beautiful? You drove me crazy in your dress tonight, no, you drive me crazy every fucking time I see you. Maybe even since the first time I met you.”

“S-Sir.” You moan at the praise, face heating up. Taehyung pushes you back against the wall of the hot tub. You tilt your head back against the tiles as he touches you everywhere. He uses his hands to tease at your nipples, making them harden. Even as he does it, he is grinding down on you. You can feel yourself getting wetter by the second. 

“You fucking know I am.” Taehyung snaps, losing the careful composure he wears during scenes. “You’re my one and my only. Look at yourself, so fucking lewd, all worked up by my touch. You have me wrapped around your finger and you still think I’d have another woman.” He continues, cursing in between his sentences at your sweet sounds.

“S-Sorry.”

“Don’t ever be sorry.” Taehyung cuts you off. You let out moans as he starts rubbing at your clit, hard and fast. You grind against his hand. In his dom persona, Taehyung would never tolerate you doing this, but both of you are too far gone tonight to follow the rules to a T. “I will clear this misunderstanding tonight. On your knees, princess.” 

You lean on top of the towel Taehyung placed for you on the tiles. Taehyung places his own knees outside of yours, and you feel his hard cock against your ass. Taehyung eases two fingers into you, wet from your arousal that it’s an easy fit. “Nnn, sir.” You plead, grinding down on him. 

“You won’t get more until you say what I want to hear.” Taehyung says next to your ear. He presses his chest into your back, pinning you to the edge of the hot tub. “Who do you belong to?”

“Sir! I belong to sir!” You cry out, and Taehyung picks up the pace.

“So fucking pretty.” Taehyung praises, kissing the marks he left on your neck. “Only you get treated like this, understand? No woman could ever be loved like this by me. Every time you forget I will bend you over my lap and make you come on my cock over and over until you get it in your head.”

You let out a particularly loud moan at that, making Taehyung smirk. “Does my princess like that, hmm? You want to get bent over and take my cock all the time? Want me to fill you up with my come, plug you with a pretty little toy, and make you go about your day?” Taehyung inserts another finger and the stretch has you whining. “Answer me.” He demands.

“I do. Ah, fuck, Taehyung. Please. I do.” You plead, tilting your head to the side. Taehyung meets you immediately in a passionate kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth, completely different from Taehyung’s usual style. Is this really what he can do when he lets go? You wonder, getting drunk on his kisses alone. You thought Taehyung had been rough before, but it’s nothing compared to tonight.

“Turn around.” Taehyung says, withdrawing his fingers. 

He takes in your needy expression, leaning in to kiss you again like he can’t get enough of you. “Can I come in you, baby? Have you been taking your pill regularly?” 

“Yes. Yes.” You chant. Taehyung laughs breathlessly, grabbing a fistful of your hip in one hand and lining himself up to your entrance.

When he enters, both of you moan. “So good. Whose are you, princess?”

“Yours, only yours.” You answer breathlessly. Taehyung grips your thighs and lifts you slightly, allowing him to enter you more deeply. 

Taehyung abruptly picks up the pace of his thrusts. You grip at his shoulders for support, unable to stop the noises that fall from your lips constantly. Not only is Taehyung going fast, he is also going incredibly deep, rubbing right over your G-spot. 

“C-Can I come, sir?” You beg.

Taehyung nods, and you move one hand between your legs to rub at your clit. As you tip your head back, Taehyung holds himself deep inside you. Both of you come at the same time, you clench hard around him and Taehyung pumps his seed inside you. He kisses at the marks on your neck as he comes, and you dig your nails into his back. 

You move your hand to his hair once you finish, stroking it gently. Taehyung pulls back from the wall, his hand smoothing down your back to ease any discomfort you felt being pressed against it. You don’t even notice until the postcoital bliss dies down that your ass was now more sore than before. But Taehyung does. 

“Let’s take a shower.” He tells you, helping you up. You both get out of the hot tub. Taehyung runs a small handcloth under the tap. He comes over and wipes your vagina down first, then cleaning himself. 

The two of you get in the shower together. You let Taehyung wash your body down, scrubbing gently and avoiding touching your ass. You grab his shampoo off the ledge and put a good amount in your palms. “What are you doing?” Taehyung asks, surprised that you turned around while he was washing your back.

“Taking care of you.” You mumble, washing Taehyung hair for him. You grab the detachable showerhead from the side. You shield his eyes with a hand as you rinse the soap out.

Taehyung smiles fondly at how concentrated you look. “Baby, a dom is supposed to look after their sub following a scene. Not the other way.”

You shrug. You probably heard that somewhere. Your brain is too foggy right now to think. “But I want to.”

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yes.” You answer, smiling at how nice Taehyung’s hair looks now that it’s clean. “Because I belong to you.”

Taehyung lightly pecks your forehead. “And I’m yours.”

Later, when the haze of your subspace wears off, you two are laying in bed together. You’re wearing one of Taehyung’s shirts and a pair of panties. Taehyung is shirtless and in a pair of boxers. Taehyung has just finished putting lotion on your sore bottom to ease the ache for tomorrow. 

You lay on top of Taehyung’s chest, and Taehyung tucks the blankets tucked in around you. You snuggle up against his chest, content in his strong arms.

“Y/N, I know I already proved my point, but you really are my only one.” Taehyung tells you. You don’t reply so he cranes his head to look at you. Taehyung smiles fondly to notice you’re already asleep. He kisses the top of your head. “No problem. I guess I have the rest of my life to prove it to you.” He mutters to himself.

You smile to yourself with your eyes closed.

Requests are open (✿◡‿◡)

[kousagi7hikari]

Name: Akuma

Species: Demon

Do they exist in a story?

Not really. I put him in a bunch of different stories, but they’re more like AUs than anything else. He exists in my own head, mostly.

What inspired them?

A while back, I made a bunch of characters that were “What if Danny Phantom was a different creature of myth?” And then they just grew their own personalities

How did you name them?

I had an issue of Shounen Jump that had the first chapter of D Grey Man in it. It had monsters named Akuma, which I learned meant “Demon.” So, there you go. Let’s keep in mind I was in middle school when I made him, so I wasn’t aware of how “moon moon”-ish it would be, but it’s been over a decade, I can’t change it now!

Any big changes between first making them and now?

Akuma’s mostly gone through some personality changes. Before, He was very much a crappy teen, and now he’s an adult who is full of softly boiling rage. So, he handles his anger better. He also grew out of his “middle school” phase.

What’s the best thing about them?

He’s been with me so long and he just keeps growing. Also, he’s surprisingly loyal, for a demon

What’s the worst thing about them?

STILL VERY ANGRY. But at least he can better manage and direct his anger.

I feel the need to say that he’s not angry all the time. He just partakes in Wrath a lot

What part of yourself is in them?

Again with the anger. It’s mostly my righteous fury and indignation at how unfair some things are. I can use Akuma to blow off some steam and imagine certain situations in a safe space.

Do they have any hobbies?

He plays the violin! Something that grew from me listening to “The Devil went Down to Georgia”

What’s their backstory?

Not a whole big backstory, but, when he was younger, Akuma tried to take over the world. This went about as well as you would think. Half of his powers were sealed away because his brother made a plea bargain with the divinity who were in charge. He recently got them unsealed which allowed him to learn more spells and abilities and also grow up. He looks back on his attempted takeover the way we look back at our middle school phases.

Do they have any friends?

He’s friends with another OC of mine, Victor! Victor plays piano, so they sometimes perform duets together. He also has an unnamed demon friend he meets back in Hell sometimes at a bar for a drink just to chat. Obviously, not very developed.

Significant Other? Crush?

He’s got a boyfriend~ First serious one. An owl/winter forest spirit named Suluk. He belongs to my bestie!

What kind of powers do they have, if any?

Akuma can manipulate shadows and create fire, but it’s blue and purple cos AESTHETIC. He can also summon his violin and do magic with it. He can also cast some spells (whatever I want for my daydream scenario)

Any family?

Akuma has one brother, an angel named Sora. They’re twins. If you wanna know how that works, you’ll have to wait for Sora’s entry!

What foods do they like?

Akuma doesn’t need to eat human food. He mostly eats souls. However, he’s been known to dip into a steak once in a while, occasionally something decadent if he’s infiltrating a fancy party for one reason or another. His sin is not gluttony

Do they engage in combat? What do they use to fight?

Yup! He uses a combination of fire magic, music magic (energy with his violin) and either a scythe or a pitchfork. Sometimes he uses two of each, depending on how he feels.

Do they speak other languages?

He can speak whatever language he needs, but his mother tongue is a sort of Celestial language called Devine

Do they have a Nick-name or an alias?

Aki for short. When he disguises himself in a feminine form, he goes by the name Autumn. If he’s in disguise in his usual form, he goes by Adam Davidson. His full name is Akuma J. Devine. Much like Crowley in Good Omens, it’s just a J.

How do they get around?

Flight. Teleportation for long distances or to go back to Hell.

Can they cook?

Absolutely not. Does not have the patience for it

Who is someone from their past?

I think Akuma kept to himself a lot when he was younger, only sticking with his brother, so there weren’t a lot of folks in his past. He’s made more friends recently though.

Art by myself at @fangirltothefullest

[greengrayeyeswrites]

shit-faced in love (chapter one)

Title: shit-faced in love

Pairing: Corpse Husband x OC (fem!youtuber!reader)

Word Count: 1,630

Warnings: Mental Health/Mental Illnesses are a big topic in this story. Mentions of depression, bpd and other mental illnesses. Angst, Fluff.

Note: This may be a Corpse x OC story but feel free to insert yourself into the main girls role. If Corpse ever announces that he doesn't like fanfics about him, I'll delete this.

Prologue — Chapter 1 — Chapter 2

— — —

„You did what?!“ Baylee screeched into the phone and Imogen sighed. She was standing in Ballinlough Community Park and watched Buddy run around in circles, greeting the other dogs. 

„Baylee, please don’t yell… This is stupid enough even without you screaming in my ear.“ Imogen rubbed the bridge of her nose and Baylee sighed. „I just can’t believe you pinky-promised on taking Pole Dancing classes when reaching two mil… Imogen, you know you’re depressed and suffer from BPD, right?“ Imogen chuckled. 

„I know, Bay. I was diagnosed often enough“ she quickly rolled her eyes and watched Buddy stumble over his feet. „To my defense, I was shit-faced hammered when we made that plan.“

Remembering the drunk game of Proximity Among Us a few months prior, where Imogen had a playful banter with the deep-voiced Youtuber Corpse Husband, send a shiver down her spine.

She was already tipsy. Tipsy and the imposter and running around like a maniac, killing everyone who came across her, when Disguised Toast asked her, what she wanted to do once reaching two million subscriber.

Her drunk laugh had ringed in everyones ears as she promised to document herself taking Pole Dancing classes like Seán and Mark had once done. 

„Do it in San Diego“ Corpse had chuckled and Imogen had pursed her lips. „You want me to fly all the way to the states to take Pole Dancing classes?“ She had asked before killing off his little astronaut.

Once back in the lobby Corpse, whom she was getting to know at that time, started talking about the weird and drunk induced idea.  „You wanted to visit your best friend in Houston anyway, right?“ The man spoke and Imogen had nodded—even if no one except her chat could see it.

„Then come to San Diego. I bet there are good schools here.“ And after taking another sip from her Vodka Imogen grinned. „Sure, why not!“

But Imogen had low-key forgot about this situation and when Corpse tweeted her this morning, her whole face flushed and she remembered everything about the drunk Among Us session.

„But are you doing it?“ Baylee’s voice brought Imogen back to the reality. „Are you really coming to the states?“ Imogen bit the inside of her lip. „I’m meeting my therapist later today. I will definitely talk about this with him and see what he has to say.“

Imogen heard Baylee hum in the background. „I would be happy if you’d come and visit me“ she started and Imogen pouted. „Me too!“ She watched Buddy run towards her, with a stick in his mouth.

She knew she had pinky-promised Corpse that she would fly over to San Diego and document her Pole Dance classes. But was she brave enough to actually do it?

— — —

Two months later, it was a hot and sticky day in June and Imogen was looking at the suitcase in front of her. She still couldn’t believe what she was about to do.

With a one-way ticket to Houston and Buddy’s pet passport in her hands, nothing was in her way to travel over the pond. She got tested negatively for Covid and was ready to embark on this new journey.

She had a good talk with her psychiatrist about the upcoming journey and he told her that she was currently stable enough to travel. He stacked up her medication and told her that she could always call him, when she felt like the mood swings were too much to handle.

It took Imogen two months to prepare Buddy for the upcoming trip, and a lot of meetings with his vet to check if the fluffy dog would be okay in two eight hour flights. 

Imogen had her phone at her ear and was currently talking with non other than her internet friend Sykkuno. „Do you think Buddy is going to be okay?“ Imogen asked, fumbling with the hem of her pajama top. „You’ve prepared him well! You checked his health with the vet and talked with airline. You also got a letter from your psychiatrist, that Bud needs to be with you at all times!“ Sykkuno spoke and Imogen sighed.

„I know, Sykk… But I’m a little anxious that he’s going to get sick throughout the flight.“ She looked at Buddy, who was still sleeping on his cushion. „I just read so many horror stories about pets dying during flights.“ - „I feel you, Imogen. I would be super scared if something would happen to Bimbus.“ 

Imogen sat down on her bed. She still had a few hours before she had to head to the airport. She was happy Sykkuno had picked up the phone, otherwise she would’ve freaked out.

„I’m seriously happy that there are no size requirements for emotional-support-dogs… I already booked business class seats so Bud and I can have more space.“ She sighed and Sykkuno chuckled. „Just imagine the faces of all these business men wondering why there’s a full grown Siberian Husky in business class“ his laugh rang in her ears and her heart jumped.

„Not gonna lie, Sykkuno, but I can’t wait to finally meet you in person!“ She grinned and looked at all the documents, that were sprawled out on her bed. 

There was the letter from her psychiatrist, stating that Imogen needed the animal for psychological reasons; a prescription of why Imogen needed said animal and all the other veterinary documentations.

Imogen could hear the one year older male laugh. „Me too, Imogen!“, his voice was as soft as usual. „I can’t wait for Bimbus and Buddy to meet!“ He chuckled and Imogen nodded.

She had contacted almost all of her closest Youtube friends and had asked them if they wanted to meet, once she and Buddy set foot in America. 

Sykkuno was one of the first to tell her, that he wanted to meet her and Buddy. Then came Rae, that invited her to do a collab or something for their channels. Poki also contacted Imogen, asking if she wanted to hang out with her.

But the one, Imogen hadn’t believe would approach her, was Corpse Husband. Corpse had called her—it had been one in the morning in Ireland—and told her that he wanted to meet her, once she was in San Diego for her Pole Dance class.

„You want to meet me?“ Imogen asked him. „You never show your face and yet you want to meet me… in person?“ His deep laugh rang in her ears. „Yeah… is that weird? We’ve been texting everyday and I really want to meet Buddy!“ Imogen rolled her eyes.

„You want to meet the dog, not me?“ He laughed even louder and Imogen was worried for a second. His breath hitched. „Are you okay?“ - „Yeah, you just sounded as if you were jealous of your dog.“ Imogen rolled her eyes and bit her fingernails.

„You know he’s not just my dog, but my companion, right?“ - „Yet you’re jealous of me wanting to meet him.“ Imogen knew that it was no use talking to him and sighed. „You know what? Let’s meet and see if you really only want to meet Buddy.“

Imogen shook her head as she remembered the late-night calls and texts from the faceless YouTuber. And she could only fathom how stressful it must be for him to actually invite Imogen over.

„When’s your flight?“ Sykkuno asked and Imogen sat down on her gaming chair, overlooking her room and sleeping Buddy on the floor. „It’s in few hours. I still need to dress properly, I’m still in my pajama. And I still need to head up to Dublin.“ Imogen laughed. „Your layover is in Washington right?“ - „Yes, I wanted to stop in Washington because Buddy can only hold in his pee for about nine hours.“ A chuckle left the black haired girls mouth and Sykkuno laughed. 

„It’s his usual sleep duration“ Imogen looked at her wristwatch. „Dang, Sykk… I’m sorry but I really need to hang up. I definitely need to get ready. Sorry Bub!“ The YouTuber on the other line laughed. „It’s okay, Imogen. Get ready. Text me once you’re boarded and in case you need anything!“ 

Imogen grinned. „Thank you Sykkuno. Really, thank you!“ She said her goodbyes and hung up. Looking at the watch one more time, she took a deep breath. 

Imogen stood up and put her phone on her desk before rushing to the pile of clothes she decided to wear for the journey. She decided on a simple black skinny jean and an oversized black print tee. 

It was one of her go-to outfits and one she felt the most comfortable with. Even if people on the internet were sometimes thirsting over her posts and pictures; she still didn’t give them thirst traps by choice.

 She would’ve never imagined people nutting over her posting a picture of her legs covered in cuts and bruises. 

Imogen never thought people would find her scars hot. And she always exclaimed in her videos, that it wasn’t pretty, that she wasn’t romanticizing her illness. She wanted to spread awareness that it was be ugly. That’s why she posted pictures of her legs. 

She wanted to show, that it wasn’t pretty, having legs covered in self-inflicted cuts and bruises. But people still thought it was hot and edgy because she dressed like that. 

Imogen straightened her hair and checked herself in the mirror. Her eyeliner had the perfect wing and her usually dark eyebags weren’t as prominent as usually. 

She took a deep breath. „Americas… here I come…“ she looked at her dog, before taking her phone and posting one more tweet, before getting ready to head up to Dublin for her first flight of the day.

to be continued...

Taglist: @wineandionysus

[asimpfor2dcharacter]

Note: In this chapter there will mention two of my oc ( original character) their physical appearance will be present in the future chapters.

When you see this sign -- it means a flashback started/ended

Previous chapter Masterlist

Chapter 2: Cafè and tea

In the morning the rain was strumming against the window of her room and  she was preparing herself to go into the living room. She decided to wear a light pigiama suited for the weather and thought that it was unnecessary to wear the golden ring she usually uses because no one was going to see it anyway beside her parents. It has already been several days since she came back to Japan and she mostly spent her time with her parents: cooking with her mother, training with her father and beating him in a game of chess. Mundane actions that people usually do with their parents but she can't, due to the fact that she lives far from them.

She decided to join his father in the kitchen who was busy cooking breakfast.

Aizawa noticed the presence of his daughter when she entered the room, 

"Goodmorning Y/n, your mom already left this early in the morning to work".

"Morning Dad, are those pancakes?," she asked, setting the table.

"Yes your favourite, you can already eat the one on the table while it's still hot ," he said, pointing at the table where there were several pancakes on a plate.

"Thanks Dad," she glanced outside the window and there was still a drizzling rain, " the weather forecasts show that around lunch time there will be sun for the rest of the day, so me and Yuga  planned to meet each other in a cafè nearby,".

"That sounds great," he flipped the last pancakes on the pan and he put it on his plate and then he took a chair beside her daughter.

"Well dad thank you for the breakfast,".

While cutting his food, he asked her, "Y/n in a few days I have the final appointment at the tailor shop for my wedding suit. I wanted to ask you if you can come with me?,".

"Are you asking  me that because you genuinely want me to be there or you  just don't want to be alone with uncle Mic?," she said while spreading the Nutella on her pancake.

"A mix of both, so are you coming?,".

"Of course I will, it's not everyday to see you in such a formal outfit," he rolled his eyes at her daughter's comment, making her tease her father more, knowing his preference over more comfortable clothes rather than elaborate one's.

"But Dad, one week before I came here in Japan you told me that Nezu offered you the position of UA principal, have you already made a decision?,".

Once he heard the question, he wiped his mouth with a napkin and slowly he put the fork on the table. "Honestly no". 

"Why?".

"I thought about it and Y/n I know it's a great honour to be the UA principal but," crossing his arm he continued, " I'm getting older and I don't if I can continue to be a hero for more years let alone be the UA principal," he said touching his left leg. She knew what exactly he meant with those words. "Beside," he added, " working as a principal, sure does take off your free time and I prefer spending my free time with your mom rather than working on paperworks,".

"You really love mom," she said.

"Well yeah, that's why I'm marrying her," he admitted with a smile on his face.

"That's it I'm going to tell mom when she comes back home,".

"Please don't, she will tease me about it for the whole week,". 

Both of them almost finished  eating their food when her father asked, "Y/n I know you told us you took this vacation for health reasons but it might also be because of those articles about you?". 

She immediately stopped eating, her eyes were avoiding his father's gaze, almost ashamed to meet them,"So you saw it".

"Yes I saw them, I read those negative reviews about your latest book so does your mom but don't get down on yourself. I know how negative opinions of others can bring you down but don't forget that you will always have me and your mom support you for everything. Me and your mom just want you to communicate with us when something is wrong," and now it was his turn to avoid her gaze, not wanting her to see his eyes tearing up, "we just don't want to repeat what happened to you six years ago,".

She listened attentively at his words, she knows how both of her parents suffered for the events of that day and she promised to herself that it will never happen again, "I know dad I'm working on it and I promise you, you will never see me again in that situation".

"Your mom and I just what the best for you," he said, patting gently on your head.

"I know dad I know," she admitted, giving her father a reassuring smile.

"Oh wait, you said your meeting Aoyama right," he pulled out from his pocket his wallet and gave her 13,000 yen  (99 in euro, 117 in dollars), "here take it,".

"Dad, I'm twenty-six years old, I can pay for my stuff,".

"Just take it ok," He replied while sipping a cup of coffee pretending not to hear the protest coming from his daughter.

 

After the deep conversation she had with Aizawa this morning, she was now preparing to meet Aoyama. Once  choosing her outfit, she decided to wear the golden ring on the fourth finger of her left hand to complete the look. Fortunately the weather forecast was right and it was a sunny day outside and her best friend informed her that they will meet in a cafe. He told her how excited he was to try their famous cheesecake and the way he described the pastry makes her want to try.

It took only twenty minutes by walking from her house to arrive at the cafè shop Aoyama told her. From the outside the wall of the shop  was black and it was ornated with several climbing plants, there was also a big wooden door as the entrance and inside the place it was rather a cozy atmosphere.

 She was searching for her best friend who was in disguise to avoid fans attention towards him and he told her to be able to recognise him, he was wearing a green merchandise t-shirt of Deku with a pair of dark sunglasses and a dark blue bucket hat. After searching for a couple of minutes she finally saw her friend in the most isolated part of the shop and near him there was a TV attached to the wall. He was sitting in a chair using his phone but she noticed something different from her best friend. 

"I can't believe he really did that," she thought.

"Yuga I thought you were joking when you said to me you were going to dye your hair," admiringing his new hair color now similar to the shade of blonde of Lucius Malfoy.

After some years of not seeing her in person, he immediately gave her a warm hug, "Y/n!!! It's so nice to see you again". 

"Yuga, you don't know how much I missed you," she said, returning back the hug, "it's been two years since  we saw each other and the last time was when you visited me in New York".

"And what were you saying about my hair, for your information," flipping his hair with a hand in a too dramatic way, " these are amazing," he said, not caring too much about him blowing up his disguise.

"Whatever you say Lucius Malfoy. So how is my favourite hero?," she asked once they took their seats.

He confesses to her the struggle of being the number fifteen hero, how the paparazzi each day that pass are becoming more determined to invade his private life and his agency already gave five restriction orders to five paparazzi only this  last three months. He can't imagine how difficult it is for higher ranking heroes to maintain  their privacy, he admitted, but on a positive note he and his team are working hard to climb higher in the hero rankings this year and they are also trying to sign better sponsorships with other companies' brands.

"So yeah, this is basically what I've been doing in the last months," he picked the menu card, " and you, my favourite writer, keep me updated on what is happening in your life," he asked, flipping the menu card.

"Well first I'm sorry for what happened to you with the paparazzi, at least your agencies manage the whole situation well but don't worry I don't have any doubts that you will achieve the top ten hero podium. So you wanted to know my personal life or my work life?,".

"All of it," He admitted with a devilish smile painted on his face.

"You jerk, so where do I start," taking a deep breath, "let's talk first about work, even though I told my parents it was my own decision to be on holiday, actually, it is more like my agency imposed me to take this vacation, because of the critiques. Although my recent book was a success to the public, the critiques were, well, quite harsh. 

I have been working in this industry for a long time to develop a thick skin towards harsh criticisms but my agency didn't take it well, they told me, I should take time off from working before publishing a new book. They don't want to see again what they read about me in those articles written by literary critics, phrases like 'The book is so predictable, 'Has Adrianne lost her spark of writing?', 'The book is not on the same level as the other that she wrote', 'I will not even read to meet pets'.

He put down the menu card in his hands, "Y/n, I'm sorry for what happened to you but don't let those critics let you down. I know your worth as an writer and looks like also my colleagues know it, the way they were down knowing you took half year off from writing, you should have seen their reaction when they red what those literary critics wrote about you they were furious to them and every time they talk about your stories and theories about it, their face are engulfed of joy" he said taking both of your hands in his and slightly squeeze it. "Y/n if you can only see the happiness of my co-workers imagines the joy you bring to others millions of people that read your stories around the globe," he expressed with a smile on his face, after all the years that you know him that smile always brings you comfort. "Y/n remember you are the one who brought that medium company to become one of the biggest and most important company in New York with your amazing works, you are their big fish. Even if those literary critics didn't like your books, what can your company do against you? Fire you? Please they are nothing without you," he added.

Trying to not laugh at his last statement, she dried the tears forming in her eyes for the words of support from her friend, she said, "Ohhh Yuga chan, you really know how to make a woman cry".

He winked at her, "What can I say, it's the charm of being a hero".

"Ok let's stop with these tear-jerking moments and let's order." Playfully slapping his arm and picking up the menu card to choose what to order. "I honestly don't know what to pick besides their cheesecake, there are so many to choose from".

"Well I also recommend you to check their drinks,".

Flipping through the pages of the menu card, she decided what to choose, " I know what to order and you?," He nodded indicating to her, he was also ready to order.

A waitress came towards them after she called her, "Hi, are you ready to take an order?".

Y/n spoke for both of them, " Yeah, we both chose the cheesecake and for the drinks a black tea and a bottle of water".

"I'm sorry to say this but there is only one cheesecake left," the waitress informed them both.

"It's ok Y/n you can take it-"

"You are more excited than me to try their cheesecake, so I will pick the tiramisù instead of the cheesecake," she said to the waitresses.

Once the waitress was gone Aoyama told her best friend, " I still can't believe it, our friendship basically started thanks to cheese".

She laughed at what he said because it was basically the truth, she remembered the day she met him.

--

Her mother gave birth to her in Musutafu, Japan, but at the age of five her mother decided to move to London. When the young girl asked the reason why they needed to reside in another country, her mother's eyebrow frowned at the question but there was an evident sadness in her eyes and a wounded look  she tried to hide under a smile. Her mom lowered herself to approach the same height of her child and with her hand she gently patted the hair of her daughter and with hesitation she answered "It's for the best".

So the single mother and her daughter lived their life in tranquillity, trying to fit in a new community and culture with her mother working as a nurse in a big hospital in London and her going to school and living most of her childhood in England.

Y/n didn't make a lot of friends considering her timid nature until one day she discovered a blog that contains: information, fun facts and new discovery about cheeses. A lot of kids around her age didn't like the smell of it and they always say it because the smell of it reminds them of sticky feet. So when she met on this blog a person around her same age that also has the same passion as her they immediately became friends and this boy's name was Yuga Aoyama. 

The young girl and her online friend almost spent their time together, talking about what they wanna be in the future. 

"Y/n chan when I grow up I want to be a hero just like All Might," the young boy announced, showing to her the All Might plushie.

"I don't really know what I want to be when I grow up, maybe just like my mama?. I just want one day to meet you in person Yuga,". 

Unbeknownst to the ten years old girl, her wish will become reality when her mother informs her that they will go back to live again in Musutafu ,Japan. Her mom receives an offer to work as an assistant for Recovery Girl and to her mother's surprise her daughter was more than happy to go back to Japan because this means that she will have the opportunity to meet her online friend in person. 

After five years living in England they are finally back in Japan. Her mother was euphoric for the fact that both of them are finally back in their home country and after a few weeks of fixing their apartment Y/n didn't lose time to meet her online friend in person and they decided to meet near the UA school.

After meeting in person the two became closer to each other and their friendship solidified over the years until they both went to the UA high school with Aoyama achieving his dream to go to the hero course and her simply frequenting the general department. 

The first year of UA recently started and Aoyama and her were walking in the hallway of the school to go to the cafeteria during lunch break, their peaceful conversation was interrupted when they heard loud noises coming from their back.

There was a boy with blond hair and a black lightning symbol on his hair that just passed them running from something or rather from someone, "You see that boy his name is Kaminari, one of my classmates but I don't know why he's running this fast".

She was going to tell her best friend something until she heard another loud sound of explosion coming from  behind her. When she turned around to see what was the cause of the tumult the girl notice another blond boy running towards them with a furios remark on his face, the boy was clearly using his quirk in the school hallway, even if he wasn't allowed to, a blast of explosion appearing on his hands to be able to run faster and Y/n seeing all of this was already ready to ignore it until she heard.

"SHINE!".

After hearing those words coming from the blond boy, Y/n was astonished by what she realised and she didn't even register that she basically screamed to the boy, "What it's you".

Bakugo was searching for Kaminari trying to teach him a lesson for a stupid prank that him and Mineta played on him. After giving a lesson to Mineta it was Kaminari turns now, he was running to find him until he lost sight of him, the only evidence where to find him was hearing his scream of terror trying to escape from Bakugo. The angry blond male immediately knew where the noise was coming from and it was from the hallway near the cafeteria and of course Bakugo didn't lose time and he instantly used his quirk to run faster towards the hallway where the scream of Kaminari was coming from.

Out of frustration he let out a curse but he didn't know that screaming that word  can change his life forever.

In the hallway he saw his classmate Aoyama and a girl near him, he was going to ignore them until the unknown girl screamed at him.

Bakugo was continuously running but eventually lose his balance and control of his quirk when the girl in front of him screamed at him, his pupil become more dilated and suddenly his breath grow shorter until he was a few steps from the unknown  girl and at that moment he completely lose track of his footstep making him fell on the ground with the girl under him.

Y/n didn't understand what just happened, her body was lying on the ground and she felt a weight of another person on top of her, when she opened her eyes she was greeted with a pair of carmine eyes observing  her movement attentively. 

" Fuck it's you then ," Bakugo said.

--

"Y/n ," he called her, "you were zoning out," he added.

"I'm sorry I was thinking of something," she created an excuse, mentally scolding herself to stop reminiscing about the past with rose tinted glasses.

He was going to say something until both of their attention was now focused on the tv near them.

There was a lady in her thirties announcing that one month from now there will be an annual hero gala and the woman was presenting which heroes will be present that night. The lady was showing pictures of various superheroes which some of them were familiar to Y/n from Aoyama and old UA students but what caught her attention was the remark that the woman said when she presented the pictures of Bakugo and her girlfriend.

Look at those two our national sweet couple, we all can't wait to see them and in a few months by now there will be their six years anniversary together .

Y/n and Yuga looked at each other's eyes and they cringed at that nickname that the host gave them.

"National sweet couple? Seriously?," she asked, trying to hold her laugh.

A hand in front of his mouth to suppress his laugh, he said, "Believe me there are worse nicknames that I heard about those two. But you know what is more interesting," he suddenly lowered his voice and asked her to come near him, "there are some rumours in the hero circle that say that Bakugo cheated multiple times on Yua".

At his last statement, she looked with sadness at the golden ring present on her fourth finger and thought  Well this isn't like the first time that happen.

" but you know,  what is the most interesting part of the 'cheating rumors' about Bakugo is that none of it comes out from the public's eyes," he added.

"Well this is strange considering this is the type of news paparazzi and the media will fight to know ".

Suddenly the conversation she was having with her friends was interrupted when a waitress served them their food.

"Y/n  let's stop talking about Bakugo love life, tell me about yours-".

"Not existent," she cut him short.

"Oh c'mon Y/n there will be someone who can make your heart beat again- ".

His complaints were interrupted with the ring of her phone.

"Who is it?," he asked.

She checked her phone and told him, " It's Aki".

"Speaking of the devil. You mean that Aki, the son of the president of the company you work for? The golden bachelor of your company and every female tried to seduce but failed eventually?," he said, drinking his tea.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your fantasies but he's only a good friend of mine, probably he only called just to talk about work knowing him," she admitted, answering the call.

"Hi Aki, ohh you're coming to Japan, when?,".

She heard her friend whispering to her, "Interesting," she rolled her eyes at her friend's comment.

"Ok bye Aki,".

"So what did you talk about,".

She told Aoyama what they talked about and it was mainly about work. Aki is the vice president of the company and in a few days he will come to Japan to take over an important project that was to build a new branch company located in Tokyo.

"And he also asked me if he can take me out to dinner when he will be here,".

"Well well well this sounds like a date to me. Do you ever think that he might have feelings for you?," he asked.

She defended herself, "We knew each other for a few years now, if he ever had feelings for me I should have noticed it by now".

" Y/n , I mean you didn't even notice when Bakugo had-".

She knew exactly where he was coming from and she didn't like it. She touched the ring in her finger with her other hand and with a firm voice  she said to him, " Aoyama, stop, I might have not noticed in the past  but now I will definitely know if someone has it".

Aoyama noticed her discomfort around that particular subject and he immediately tried to ask for forgiveness, "I'm sorry. I should've thought better before bringing it out that subject".

"It's ok Yuga. I shouldn't be angry with you about things that happened years ago," she comforted him, returning to her calm nature.

"No no no I'm on the wrong side this time and I want you to forgive me by going shopping and let me pay for your stuff," he informed her.

"Wait no you shouldn't do it-".

"I insist Y/n and I don't accept no for an answer," he announced, winking at her.

"I mean if you insist….". 

[boymeetsweevil]

in your court

Grouping: Reader x B-ball player!Jaehyun (feat. BFF!Hyuck)

Word Count: ~10.8k

Warnings/Themes: Two idiots in love, oc is scary when mad, hyuck is crafty always, jae is a bit intense but he’s just trying his best, gratuitous descriptions of dimples, a kiss!!! sfw!

Prompt: “awkward!oc with his basketball teammate jaehyun. Honestly anything with bff!haechan.”

“Make sure you don’t make it look shaky.”

Donghyuck puts the phone camera close to his face so he can better see your handiwork through the video call. He looks a bit like a fish, but you can’t see him because you’re focused on the mirror in front of you.

“Remind me why I’m being forced to do this?”

“Because I’m your best friend and I deserve a sign just as much as Jisung and Johnny.”

You have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes so you don’t mess up the number 14 you’re drawing carefully onto your cheek in eyeliner. Although you hate to see good makeup go to waste, you’re trying to be a better friend while also trying not to accidentally write the number backwards. It’s Donghyuck’s new number this season and he begged you to show some team spirit despite the fact that you normally mix with sports the same way oil mixes with water. The last time you showed up at practice was the first day of the season and you fell from the third courtside bleacher after Donghyuck called you over to introduce you to a cute new walk-on team member. If anything, just being around sports is dangerous for you.

A minute later, you sneeze while holding the pencil and draw a huge line straight through all your hard work. Donghyuck literally screams and you hang up the call to focus. When you finally finish redrawing on the side of your face, there’s half an hour left before the first home game of the spring season starts. You grab the matching construction paper sign you made earlier, complete with a huge gold glitter 14, and head out the door.  Taeyong is supposed to pick you up so you can make it to the gym on time. He’s the only other friend you have who is remotely associated with sports and that’s only because he’s dating one of the players, Doyoung.

The ticket Donghyuck gave you days ago places you near the court’s side with a near-perfect view. You settle in and wait for the game to begin. The team is already out on half of the court, doing some light warmup tosses and making the occasional mean eye at the visiting team practicing on the other half. You catch your best friend’s eye and he lights up when he sees the sign and eyeliner drawing.

“Check me out, Hyuck!” 

You turn to give him a full view of your profile, subtly proud of your skills.

“Look at you,” he drawls as he jogs over to you, “You know, I think this is the best your eyeliner has ever looked.”

“God, you’re so annoying.” 

You try your best to cast an elbow at him without disturbing the still slightly wet glitter on the sign. When you nearly take out the old man sitting directly in front of you, you settle for flipping him off.

“Wait,” Taeyong peers at the sign, “Aren’t you—”

“I think Doyoung said he was looking for you. Something about wanting a good luck kiss.”

Taeyong narrows his eyes but still stands up to go look for said boyfriend. Doyoung’s not the nervous type, but he’s also not the type to say no to some pre-game affection. You watch Taeyong disappear towards the locker room while Donghyuck steps over some of the fans already seated and takes the now open spot next to you.

“Hey,” he says with no trace of humor in his voice any longer. “Promise you’ll still be my friend after this game?”

You place the sign on your lap and turn to look at your friend. Lately the coach has been pushing him harder and you suppose it’s starting to wear down his usual confidence. With the hand that’s not covered in little golden glitter flecks, you reach down to rub his shoulder.

“Of course I will, Hyuck. And even if you guys don’t win tonight, I’m still taking you to get food after. My treat.”

It was supposed to be a rare moment of sincere friendliness. But this seems to distress him further because he looks down at your hand on his arm and then groans before covering his face in his hands. You’re confused but you don’t have any time to ask him what’s up. A few of his teammates walk over then.

“Sorry to break up the love fest, but Coach wants us to do some stretches before the whistle,” team captain Johnny says, gesturing to the other side of the gym where some other players are already contorting themselves. 

Behind Johnny stands that new walk-on. The one you fell on your face in front of. He takes in your temporary face tattoo and overly detailed sign and smirks, allowing a dimple to wink at you. You can only hope to every deity in the universe that he doesn’t remember the way you first met.

“Hey,” he smiles good-naturedly. “Glad to see you made it here in one piece.” 

“Thank you,” you say with way too much sincerity.

It’s enough to knock Donghyuck out of his bad mood and make him snort loudly beside you. The new guy smiles a bit wider, revealing a twin dimple. You look away.

“Don’t get too friendly, Jung,” Donghyuck says with fake menace in his voice. “There’s only room for one Dream Team member in her life, and that’s me.”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize you guys were—”

“We’re just friends,” you blurt out before looking down at the fascinating liver spots on the old man’s head in front of you.

“Yeah, she wishes.”

“I definitely don’t,” you snap.

He sticks his tongue out at you. “Well, I’m glad you don’t.” 

“Guys, come on!” Johnny calls a moment before the coach’s whistle blows to give a final warning.

As they walk over to the side of the gym you curse yourself for acting so weird in front of that Jung kid. If he didn’t think you were a dope when you tripped over nothing the first time you met, you’re certain he thinks you have the charms of a 13 year-old boy by now. The only thing that snaps you out of it is the fact that Donghyuck is in a time of distress and clearly needs his friend. 

With squared shoulders and a new sense of duty, you try your hardest to be the world’s best cheerleader. You’re not really sure how sports work, basketball included. The game itself turns out to be really fun. Even though you’re not quite sure what’s happening. Taeyong sends you a text with a picture of your own mildly confused face contorted into a pout as you raise your handmade sign a moment too late, after everyone has already sat back down. But eventually you figure it out after enough times of standing when people around you wearing school colors stand up first. You know enough to cheer every time Donghyuck takes the ball to the basket and boo loudly every time he gets knocked down or his shot misses. In fact, you get so into it that you catch yourself cheering for other players. You even make the mistake of cheering once for new kid Jung but immediately stop when he catches a glimpse of you in the stands and shoots you a beaming smile. 

They win by a small margin, thanks to a 3 pointer Johnny shot in the first half of the game. By the time that happens, you feel like you have a good feel for the game. You don’t have to wait for the other fans from your school to stand up when the last buzzer rings, and you instinctively run out onto the court with the rest of them as the final score settles. There’s adrenaline and joy pushing you into Donghyuck’s arms. He’s genuinely surprised but welcomes the greeting, spinning you lightly while he laughs.

“Congrats on the first win of the season,” you shout when you finally pull back. He lets you squish his cheeks in excitement. Doyoung ambles over then, looking for Taeyong. You offer him congratulations as well.

“Thanks,” he smirks a bit as he takes in your large sign and the slightly smudged 14 on your cheek. “Shouldn’t Jaehyun be the first to hear it, though?”

You raise a confused brow.

“Shouldn’t I be the first to hear what?”

You can’t help the way you stumble back against Donghyuck at the deep sound of Jung—no— Jaehyun’s voice. He looks pleased. Probably with the outcome of their first game.

“I was just saying you should get the first ‘congrats’,” Doyoung explains, nodding in your direction. Jaehyun blinks, but takes it in stride.

“I’d be glad to receive it,” he says with a grin. His dimples pop out even more than usual under the sheen of sweat and the glow from the fluorescents. “So, what’d you think? How’d I do?”

You have no idea why but your heart is beating like it’ll fly out of your chest. It takes everything in you to muster up a cool and natural response.

“You throw good.”

Donghyuck, the traitor that he is, gets sent into a cackling fit. If you listen carefully, between the gasps for air and the hyena-pitched giggles you can hear him calling you a dork. You’d turn to yell at him, but he’s right. Doyoung barely covers up his own laughter while leaning on Donghyuck’s shoulder to try to disguise the sound as a series of coughs. But Jaehyun merely smiles down at his shoes as if he’s somehow moved by your clunky words.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“No, I feel like I did well today thanks to your little sign.”

“The sign? Oh. Actually, this is for—” 

In that moment you realize two things. The first is that Jaehyun’s jersey has a big 14 emblazoned on the front of it. Just like the one you spent 10 whole minutes drawing onto your right cheek. And the one you spent 2 hours glittering the night before. The second is that you aren’t nearly as observant as you thought you were. Then you realize a third thing: Donghyuck is slowly creeping away from you as it all clicks together in your head.

When you turn to face your friend, the color has already drained out of his neck. He can see the wheels turning in your head and he raises his hands in a placating gesture, but you cut him off before he can even start. Grabbing at his jersey you make him turn around until you can see the white number 6 emblazoned on the fabric. It’s the same number he had last season, and the season before that.

“Just to clarify,” you begin with an unsettlingly calm voice, “When you asked me earlier if I would still be your friend after the game, you were talking about this, right?”

Donghyuck’s eyes go wide and dart around anywhere but your face. “You know what? I think you’re thinking of my brother, Hyongduck. We look a lot alike, so it’s an honest mistake.”

The coach calling him over in that moment is the only thing that keeps you from eviscerating him on the court with so many witnesses. You let him go, but not without him having to un-pry your fingers from his jersey. Jaehyun watches on with amusement in his eyes and you remember that he saw you nearly Hulk out on your friend.

“So, you actually didn’t know my number was 14?”

You shake your head, “I thought it was Hyuck’s.”

“I see.”

He tilts his head again, with eyes narrowed he looks you over before looking past you to where Donghyuck has finally made it to locker room safety.

“Well,” he fiddles with the chain around his neck, “I’m kind of sad the sign isn’t actually mine.”

“Oh. I mean, you can keep it if you want.”

Jaehyun’s head ducks down a second time, shaking his head at the ground like he heard something funny that you couldn’t hear. He does take the sign out of your hands though. With slow hands, he wraps the construction paper up until all the remaining glitter is safely tucked away.

“What about that one?”

“What do you mean?”

He points at his own cheek to mirror yours. You had forgotten all about the 14 you drew on your face to go with the sign.

“I don’t—I don’t know if you can wrap this one up, you know” you laugh stiltedly.

“Yeah. But I could always take a bit for the road. May I?”

All you can do is let out an eloquent ‘huh’ before he’s reaching out then and swiping away at some of the eyeliner that had moved around during the game. The drag of the pad of his thumb across your cheek should be completely harmless. Donghyuck has been infinitely rougher with his handling of you; one of the privileges of close friendship. And yet it’s this soft touch that has your breath leaving you like he punched it out of you. You swear the corner of his mouth raises, but it could be a trick of the light.

“What are you doing after—”

“I gotta go, sorry. Good game,” you toss over your shoulder before pulling your phone up to your ear like you’re taking a sudden phone call. 

No one has to know that you spend the next few minutes dunking your head under one of the running faucets in an empty locker room to cool your heated face.

---

Nearly 20 minutes later, Donghyuck is tiptoeing out of the men’s locker room. He doesn’t notice the shadow waiting for him. When he deems the coast all clear, he opens up his messaging app and shoots you a text asking for your whereabouts.

“I’m right here.”

He jumps nearly 3 feet in the air before letting the scream that built in his throat turn into a whine. You’re just barely visible in the dark corner of the gym. If he squints you look a bit like his sleep paralysis demon.

“You scared me,” he says as he takes a step back only to hit a wall.

“Funny how that happens.”

You pull out your phone, stilling standing in the dark, and let the light from your phone cast eerie shadows across your face. Donghyuck gulps audibly as he watches you type slowly in response to his text. The sound of his phone notification moments later sounds deafening in the otherwise silent space.

You (21:39) - Run.

“Look, let’s talk this out like adults.” His hands come up, palms exposed like you’re a feral animal.

“I knew you weren’t number 14,” your voice is steady and devoid of emotion as you take a step towards him.

“Then you shouldn’t have fallen for it—shit. Wait!”

He trips in his haste to get away from you and falls. You foot lands dangerously close to his face as you come to stand in over him and he grimaces.

“Please don’t kill me, I’ll do anything.”

“Why did you tell me your number was Jaehyun’s number? Make it good and maybe I’ll let you live.”

“I just felt like it.”

“What the hell!”

“I’m serious.”

“Wrong answer, Hyuck.”

With that, you wriggle a foot free from one of your sneakers and shove your socked foot over his nose. You’ve been wearing the shoes all day and, because you forgot to do laundry the night before, the socks are recycled. The sound of Donghyuck’s cries for help make you slightly better and you smile softly to yourself.

You would think that Donghyuck would have learned his lesson about not causing chaos in your life after a face-full of foot. But you should know that it’s practically his job description after knowing him for as long as you have. Sometimes you love that about him and sometimes you kind of hate him for it. This time, you hate him for it. 

Donghyuck prefaces the outing as a way of apologizing for tricking you. Normally you would have been slightly more critical. The first thing to tip you off should have been the fact the “apology" in question was coming almost two and a half weeks after the fateful jersey swap accident. The second thing should have been that the “apology” was coming in the form of a trip to a very specific tea house you don’t frequent because you’re not a tea person. And Donghyuck knows this. Because he knows everything else about you. Like which sweatpants you wear when you’re feeling bloated or when you just need a hug. But mainly you should have known something was up because it was Donghyuck. When he feels like he should do something, there’s no stopping him.

“What do you want to order,” he asks while holding the front door open for you to pass through. 

“A smoothie.”

“It’s a damn tea house, order something normal.”

“A smoothie is normal.”

“Do you order hot dogs at seafood restaurants too,” he pins you with a tired glare. You mirror the glare and add crossed arms.

“If they don’t have a smoothie, then I don’t want anything.”

You take a look around at the interior of the shop. It’s the polar opposite of the shops you usually frequent, which are all trendy with their mixes of dark, unfinished woodwork and sleek minimalist furniture. This place is almost cottage-like in the ornateness of the older architecture and the collection of kitschy antique pieces. You’re not surprised to see that a good deal of the patrons are older, some verging on elderly. There’s only a handful of people who look like they could be your peers. One of them looks oddly familiar. You can’t put your finger on it, but there’s something familiar about the way he stands and the delicate gold links laying across the back of his neck.

“Jaehyun,” Donghyuck calls a bit too excitedly, “Hey, man is that you? What are you doing here”

“You told me to meet you—” Donghyuck cuts him off with a dramatic gasp and a glance at his bare wrist.

“Aw, would you look at the time. I actually have somewhere to be right now, so I can’t stick around.”

“But you drove us here,” you whip your head around to look at him, but he coughs suddenly and looks away.

“Yeah, sorry. No time to drop you back off at your place, so I guess you have to figure that out yourself. Jae drives though. Maybe you can figure something out.”

Neither of you really know what to say. You watch silently with your mouth open in disbelief as Donghyuck turns on his heel and struts out of the tea shop exit, whistling contentedly. You suppose that if you’re the god of chaos reincarnated, all of this would feel like a good day’s work. You berate yourself for recently washing your socks.

“Good to see you again,” Jaehyun says after a beat. He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Thought I had scared you off after...yeah.”

“Oh, right. That.”

The air feels both too thick and too thin at the same time. You want to leave, every fiber of your being is screaming at you to leave before you do something weird in front of him again. But you can’t move. So you stand there, 3 feet away and not saying anything as Jaehyun looks over the large chalkboard menu hanging above the head of the older woman who is manning the front counter.

“What are you getting?”

“Me? Uh, I don’t know. I’m not really a tea person.”

“Well, what kind of person are you?”

Given the context, it’s a harmless question. But there’s a sing-songy lilt to the way he asks the question. It’s so blatant that curiosity gets the best of you and you stop purposefully avoiding looking at him. One of his dimples is out and he’s very nearly poking the tip of his tongue out at you, like he knows you’re suffering and he thinks it's funny. Almost like he’s flirting. Almost.

“I’m a smoothie person,” you finally say. “But there’s no smoothies on the menu.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“But doesn’t it say ‘no customizations’?” 

There’s a sign on the edge of the counter that says just that. Despite the fact that it’s written in beautiful, looping cursive, there’s an ominous tone to the message. Like the little old lady behind the counter might actually make you into tea if you asked for a frappe or something. You’re a little worried for Jaehyun’s safety. He must sense some sort of hesitance because he brushes it off and gestures toward the rest of the shop.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it, you can go grab us a table.”

The way he says ‘us’ so casually has you tripping slightly over nothing. He’s somehow there in the nick of time to grab at your elbow in a gentlemanly fashion to help steady you. Perhaps you yank yourself out of his proximity a little too quickly. But it’s only because you really want to find a good table and you can’t do that if Jaehyun is distracting you by grabbing at your limbs. 

In actuality, though, the tea shop is fairly vacant. There are a variety of tables with pressed white tablecloths and dainty tiered tea trays housing pastries. You pick one at random and sit down. Part of you really does wish you’d left when Donghyuck did. But the other part is curious to see what Jaehyun’s like when he’s away from his team and truly outside the context you usually find him in. So you compromise and watch as subtly as you can.

He seems fairly similar—all charming smiles and pretty hair while approaching the counter to talk with the lady you assume is the owner of the shop. She looks stern as she polishes some dainty bone china, but brightens when he comes to the counter. You watch in quiet awe as she reaches a hand up to pat fondly at the side of his face, most likely pinching a cheek from the angle you’re sitting at. You see him run a hand over the back of his neck which grows red after he says something to her that she must not like. Her brow grows heavy and her lips purse but he says something else then that has her directing her sharp gaze at you. You gulp and pretend you were merely admiring the tea sandwich tray on the table as opposed to spying. A wave of sudden embarrassment comes over you and you open up your phone to text Donghyuck

You (15:38) - this is a shit apology just so u know

You (15:38) - come get me plz

Hyuck (15:40) - sorry suddenly cant read dont know what that says :)

You place your phone face down onto the table and cross your arms with a huff. While trying to plan an escape that makes you look the least asshole-y possible, Jaehyun returns with the drinks. More specifically, he returns with a tall water glass in one hand that’s filled with a pale tea with fruit chunks and mint leaves sprinkled throughout. The other hand is encased in a floral appliqué oven mitt that holds the prettiest squat little teapot you’ve ever seen. It’s blue, so it doesn’t match the pastel green teacups organized on the tablecloth, but it’s still a lovely sight.

“What’s this,” you stir at the fruit in the glass with an elegant teaspoon.

“It’s a chilled fruit tea,” he explains while casually pouring himself a steaming cup of black tea. “I tried my hardest with Mrs. Li, but there was no way I was gonna get you a smoothie. This is the closest thing I could get.”

“You really didn’t have to go to all that trouble. I would have been fine with just a water. I don’t want to get you in trouble with the owner.”

“Don’t worry. I think my reputation is fine for now.”

It’s weirdly fascinating to watch him fix up his tea. As a member of a basketball team, you would have never thought he’d be a tea drinker. Let alone a tea drinker who takes heaping spoonfuls of sugar to go with a tiny splash of milk in his tea. He hums a little to himself as he stirs it all with a silver spoon that’s been crafted to look like roses are growing up the stem. When he looks up a moment later, he catches you staring at him. His eyes crinkle and they look like they did when he looked at you after shooting a 3 at the latest home game, full of quiet joy. Both then and now you’re not sure what the smile means or why it seems to be for you. You look down and realize his lips are moving.

“What?”

He chuckles at how far away you sound. “I said ‘how’s the tea?’”

“Oh, uh, I don’t know yet. I got distracted. I was...thinking.”

“Mhm.” There’s smugness practically oozing out of his thoughtful hum.

You take a sip to appease him and frantically search for something to say that won’t make it obvious that you aren’t a fan of tea, but then you stop yourself. It’s no smoothie, but it really is the next best thing. The tea is cold like a smoothie, providing the same reprieve from the sticky heat of Spring. The tea with all its macerated berries and mint leaves is sweet and thick much like a smoothie.

“This is amazing,” you peer down at the cup like you’re not sure where half the glass went.

A light weight lands on your shoulder then. “That’s very kind of you, dear. High praise coming from a non-tea-drinker.”

It takes a lot of effort not to scream and even then your eyes open comically wide and you jump in your seat. Jaehyun has to disguise his laughter at your reaction by turning away in his seat as you turn in yours to face the old lady who was at the counter.

“I’m sorry for any trouble you went to so you could make this, Mrs. Li, Ma’am. I told Jaehyun that I wanted a smoothie and he was just trying to make me feel comfortable.”

“Oh, I know. Jaehyun’s been coming to the shop since I opened it, so he should know all about my ban on requests.” Mrs. Li eyes Jaehyun as he takes an innocent sip of his tea. “He’s always been courteous about it, so I thought he must have a darn good reason for breaking my rule this time.”

Jaehyun’s hand slips while pouring a second cup, but he doesn’t say anything as Mrs. Li continues to expose him. 

“Now, that reminds me. Jaehyun, my boy, I’m sorry to tell you that Kevin won’t be coming to his sessions this week. He has a dentist appointment and it can’t be helped,” she sighs and waves her hands.

“That’s alright. As long as he practices a little every day he should be in good shape and we can pick up right where we stopped.”

She nods and for a moment the serious expression on her face morphs into something softer. Patting the back of his chair, she looks over the table and then at you.

“Alright. I hope everything is to your liking, but if something does come up do feel free to tell Jaehyun. He’s a very capable young man and he knows the shop like the back of his hand. I’d better get back to work now. The silver won’t polish itself.”

You wait a few beats to be respectful, but as soon as Mrs. Li returns to her post behind the counter you gulp down the rest of your tea and lean in. 

“Who’s Kevin?”

“Her 9 year old grandson. I teach him and his younger brother piano on the weekends.”

“Oh, that’s—that’s nice,” you nod coolly. At least, you hope it appears cool. Internally you’re scrambling.

Of course your best friend’s basketball teammate teaches piano to young kids. Of course he helps the elderly tea shop lady with her store. Of course he drinks sweet tea out of blue floral teacups. Of course.

He’s finally ready to go after a third cup. You’re not sure where he’s putting it all, but it seems to be a regular occurrence for him. He takes your glass from you before you can argue about your own ability to do it and walks back over to the counter. Now more than ever you wish you could read lips. He goes around the counter to wash the glass in the farmer’s sink in the back and then stops briefly to say something to Mrs. Li. She says something back with a smile that has his cheeks flaming. He leaves a bill on the counter and comes back mumbling about his tea being too hot when you stare at his face. You’re not sure how true that is given how fast he downed those cups.

When you emerge from the tea shop, the sun is shining from a different angle and the temperature has mellowed out.

“My car is a few blocks that way,” he points in the direction of the parking lot nearby. 

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” Even with his soft tone, his voice is firm and you don’t try to fight him on it.

But it’s strange walking with Jaehyun silently. It feels entirely too companionable despite the fact that you don’t even know him. 

“Do you...want to play 20 questions?”

He stops in his tracks, clearly not expecting you to talk without him coaxing you out of your shell. But after the initial shock fades, he nods.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“White,” he says immediately. “What’s your major?”

“Studio art. Do you play other sports?”

“Nah. Is Donghyuck your best friend?”

“Yeah, Hyuck’s my best friend.”

“Is he...protective?”

“Protective? Of what?”

“You, I guess.”

“Hyuck?” You let out a snort because the thought is just hilarious. “On the right day I’m pretty sure he’d sell me to Satan for a fresh order of sweet potato fries.”

“I see,” he purses his lips like he’s in deep thought before returning back to the present moments later. “You get two since I asked two.”

“Do you like it here, now that it’s been a while since you transferred?”

“Yeah,” he looks you in the eyes. “I like it here.”

You swallow a bit too audibly but power through and keep asking questions. It takes nearly half an hour to walk the two and a half blocks leading to the parking lot. Even after that, Jaehyun takes a scenic route back to the main campus. When he pulls up outside your dorm, you’re not sure what to say, but it feels like something should be said. The sun is near setting and he’s haloed by the dying rays as he leans on the steering wheel to make sure you make it inside.

After giving a little awkward nod, you drag yourself out of the cabin of his car. There’s only a few steps left until you reach the door when he calls out. You turn.

“So,” he trails off, drumming his hands on the steering wheel before adjusting the mirror even though he’s in park and no one is coming. “Donghyuck has, like, a million fans.”

“What?”

“I just mean that he’s been on the team for years, he has a fan base. But I’m just a transfer student, so I don’t have that. And, you know, it’s really nice to have someone to cheer for you.” He tests the waters and looks at you hesitantly before continuing. “I still have your poster.”

All you can do is blink as you realize what’s going on. Or, you think you know what’s going on. And it makes zero sense to you, but you have a habit of overthinking things anyway. You kick at a pebble near the toe of your shoe, taking some time to muster up the courage to be presumptuous in a way you’re not used to.

“I can...I can make you another sign. If you want. Or like wear your number.” He grins and in that moment it seems to outshine the fading sun. “So you don’t feel left out.”

“I’d like that.” He starts the car up then, still grinning as he looks down to shift gears and adjust all his mirrors yet again. “Tell Hyuck he doesn’t need to set aside tickets anymore.”

“Okay,” is your witty reply before turning once more with a too warm face.

He waves at your retreating back before putting the car into drive.

Everyone on the team knows that every once in a while Donghyuck likes to come to practice a lot earlier than is probably normal. It’s not strange to come in when there’s 30, 40, even 50 minutes before practice starts and find him practicing footwork or doing layups on the court alone. 

Jaehyun hedges a guess that he’ll find Donghyuck in the gym a good hour before practice starts one day and is pleased to find that his intuition was correct. There’s music blasting from a portable speaker and Donghyuck is doing some of the drills the coach likes to run, but done with his non-dominant hand.

When the ball rolls to a stop and Donghyuck moves to get some water, Jaehyun announces himself.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” 

“You quitting already?”

“Not yet,” Donghyuck takes in the serious set of Jaehyun’s jaw and shoulders. “We can do a 1-on-1. If you’re up for it.”

Jaehyun nods and sheds his outer layers on the sidelines. Donghyck wonders if he’s angry about something, perhaps that about practice a few days ago where he went a little too hard on Jaehyun and bashed his cheek with an elbow during a scrimmage. He braces himself for some incoming aggression, knowing he may deserve it a little.

They settle for leaving the ball on the ground in the paint since the equipment cabinet is still locked until the coach arrives. Both of them sprint from the freethrow line, with Jaehyun grabbing the ball first. Donghyuck moves into defense easily, having been in game mode for who knows how long. Jaehyun isn’t nearly as tough in his offense as Donghyck expected. In fact, he’s playing surprisingly light.

“What’s up with you,” Donghyuck says after the first basket.

Jaehyun catches the ball after it falls from the basket, jogging it back to the starting position. Donghyuck waits for him back at the freethrow line, brows raised but otherwise silent.

“Nothing’s up. Nothing big, I mean.”

“You’re a pretty bad liar.”

The words catch Jaehyun by surprise and he stumbles a bit coming off the line. Donghyuck uses the momentary shock to his advantage and steals the ball. The point comes easy as he basically runs a circle around his competitor.

“Since I won that point, why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you?”

Donghyuck doesn’t bother going back to the freethrow line and instead goes back to dribbling practice. His rhythm is slow with his off hand, but steady. Better than Jaehyun’s with his off hand.

“Do you believe in bro code?”

Donghyuck snorts. “I guess. You’re not gonna ask me for my mom’s phone number, are you?”

“No. Not your mom’s,” Jaehyun trails off.

Instantly Donghyuck knows what this is about. Or who. Your face flashes in his mind and he has to bite his own cheek to keep from laughing. Being your best friend gives him exclusive access to just how awkward you can be. But the fact that Jaehyun resorted to all this buildup is kind of hilarious.

“Aw, you guys are cute.”

“What?” Jaehyun’s cheeks grow pink. “Why is this cute?” 

“Look, you don’t need to ask me first or do whatever this is. I’m not her keeper. And I’m not gonna sabotage you, either.” Jaehyun’s shoulders lose some of their squared off edge.

“Okay,” he nods. “Thanks, man.”

“I could use a favor, though.”

“Oh. What is it?”

“I have a meeting with Coach after practice today. But I also really need to pick something up at the stationery store before tomorrow. Can you go pick it up for me?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“Cool. I’ll text you the details later.”

---

Jaehyun arrives at the stationery store with his phone in hand. The note from Donghyuck mentions some special set of paints with a foreign-sounding name. As he walks through the aisles of the little store, Jaehyun wonders who the paints are for. The note also mentioned that they were a gift for someone, but it doesn’t say who the someone is.

It takes a few laps around the store, and by the time he spots the little nook for the brand, the store owner's voice had already sounded through the overhead speakers to say that the shop would be closing soon. He grabs the last box left and quietly rejoices. Donghyuck had bartered your number for the price of running the errand. If Jaehyun could get the paints, then he could get the number. The odd part was that Donghyuck had mentioned something about Jaehyun possibly not even needing to ask him for the number if he played his cards right. Originally he had shrugged the comment off, but it did raise the hairs on the back of his neck a bit. There’s something about Donghyuck that feels akin to a cartoon villain, but Jaehyun can’t put his finger on it.

“Checking out?”

“Yeah,” he hands the shop attendant the container of paints.

The attendant tries to scan the barcode, but a strange sound comes from the machine.

“I think something’s wrong with the barcode. If you can wait right here, I’ll go get another one to scan and give you that one instead.”

“Oh. That was actually the last one left.”

“I see.” The attendant presses some keys on the computer before nodding. “I think we should have a reference code in that backroom. I can go get that and punch it in manually if that’s okay.”

“If it’s not too much trouble, that would be great.”

The attendant assures him it’ll only be a moment before leaving the counter and disappearing into the back of the store. Jaehyun waits patiently while leaning on the counter when the bell to the front door of the shop rings. Another customer has come in right before closing, and the sound of their labored breathing makes it clear that they know they’re cutting it close. The footsteps fade out and then grow louder once more after a few minutes. He takes a glance over his shoulder to see you standing a little bit behind him.

“Oh. Hi. H-hey.”

“Hey, yourself.” Jaehyun turns completely and sets his phone on the counter. “What brings you here?”

“I’m just grabbing some paint. I ran out a few days ago and I have some big projects coming up.”

“That’s funny. I’m doing the same thing.”

“Do you paint,” your eyes grow a little bigger with the prospect. At the sight of your small smile, Jaehyun wishes he could paint for the first time ever.

“No, but I’d like to learn.” And it’s never been true before, but he means it in that moment.

“Well, I could—”

“Sorry for the delay,” the shop attendant comes jogging back from the backroom. “Another employee had the reference book, so I had to spend some time to hunt it down. But you should be all set now.”

Jaehyun sends an apologetic smile your way before turning back to finish checking out. Once he’s done, even though he’s on a tight schedule with this favor, he hangs back.

“—I’m sorry but we sold out of the Neo Color Technology paints. If you’d like, we can give you a call when the next shipment comes in, but there’s a two-week wait.”

“Ah, really? Okay.” 

You gnaw on the inside of your cheek as you think about what you’ll do now. The idea of continuing some of your projects with a new set of paints that could have a completely different set of hues makes you nervous. You just perfected the shade of green you needed at the base for your huge forest study. Now you’d have to start from scratch.

Jaehyun is trying his hardest not to eavesdrop, but the odd paint name catches his attention. It’s the same one he just bought, per Donghyuck’s request.

“You can have mine,” he blurts out. “I’m the one who bought the last ones. But I obviously don’t need them like you do.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please, take them.”

Jaehyun hands you the bag. The smile you offer him in return is brilliant.

“I’ll pay you back.”

“God, no. Don’t worry about it.”

“Then, let me buy you a tea or something at least.” You hand him your phone. “Here, put your number in and you can pick a day. I’ll pay.”

So Jaehyun takes your phone and inputs his number. A moment later he gets a text from you, clarifying that it’s you. He feels victorious for a moment and then confused. Here he is, getting your number without having to ask, just like Donghyuck himself had mentioned. He’s getting this number because he gave you, Donghyuck’s friend, some paints. Paints that Donghyuck asked him to buy, as a gift to a mysterious friend. 

Maybe Donghyuck is less like a villain and more like a twisted fairy godmother.  

This little dance you keep doing with Jaehyun is strange, to say the least. 

It felt odd to copy the number 14 onto your cheek for the first time knowing who it would really be for. And it felt weird to get so used to doing it that you can now copy the stencil in with practiced ease using the face paint you bought specifically for the occasion, no longer worrying about accidentally writing it backwards. All the while, you can barely make eye contact with him after a game, although you can practically feel the weight of his gaze when you make a beeline for Donghyuck after the last buzzer rings. And you can see the way his hand tugs at the gold chain around his neck as he approaches you cautiously. And you can hear the disappointment in his tone when he asks if you’re going to the house parties thrown by one of the players that typically follow the games only to hear you say no each time.

Another few weeks later finds you trying to make it through midterms. Donghyuck being a literature major means his midterms schedule is always different from yours. This time his midterms end much earlier, a few days earlier to be exact. You’re left to suffer through late night crunches to finish up paintings for one of your crits. Photoshopping some pieces for your digital art class leaves you so busy you don’t even register what’s going on around you.

“It’s my turn to host the post-game party,” he says after letting himself into your apartment one day. He drops the spare keyring reserved for him in the dish near the front door.

“Mhm.”

“But I feel like it would be a nice change to have it here.” When he makes a big show of dropping the takeout he brought you, you don’t even flinch at the sound of it hitting the table you’ve taken over.

“Sounds good,” is all you say as you try to find the one layer out of the 25 you had that you were looking for.

“Great, so I’ll probably stop by on Friday with stuff before the game to set up and then the team can just come through afterwards.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t hate me,” he places a kiss on the top of your head before wrinkling his nose when he smells your unwashed hair. “And don’t work yourself too hard, either.”

“Yeah...definitely.”

Friday comes by and you’re still working, so you have to skip the actual game itself. In the brief window of free time you had that morning, you wonder if you should text Jaehyun again so you can tell him you won’t be coming or bringing your little hand stenciled 14. But you decide against it. It’s a big game and he doesn’t need to be bogged down by unnecessary texts.

You’re actually away at your first crit when Donghyuck stops by again, this time with party supplies. When you come back, you barely register the mountain of beers and cheap wines sitting in your kitchen. All you want to do is sleep like the dead for a few hours. As you zombie walk to your room, you swear you hear him call to you to ask if he can store his balloons in the sink. With your last two brain cells you figure he must have said something else and you were just too tired to actually comprehend it.

Hours later, bass blaring through the thin walls of your place wakes you from your slumber. The details of your conversation with Donghyuck a few days prior come flooding back just as you pick up your pepper spray to drive out what you thought were home intruders. You leave your weapon behind and open your door just slightly. The music washes over you, louder now that the seal to your bedroom has been broken. 

There’s plenty of voices coming outside that accompany the music. Even a few errant screams make it inside and to your ears. Courtesy of Chenle, no doubt. A few more brave steps outside your room and a glance out of the hallway window lets you know that you didn’t mishear Donghyuck. You see several of the guys chucking water balloons at one another on the grass outside. The pile of little teardrop-shaped balloons is admirably large and it becomes clear that they’ll be doing this for a while.

You’re not in the mood to get soaked or get mosquito bites just so you can seem friendly. After all, the party is being hosted in your apartment complex. That’s friendly enough, you reason. Once you’ve done a quick sweep through the rest of the apartment to make sure nothing is stolen, stained, or broken, you return to your room to get ready for bed properly. It takes a while because you have to wash your hair on top of everything else after receiving a very strongly worded text from Donghyuck.

While in your bathroom, brushing your teeth and watching a video Taeyong sent you, there’s jumbled knocking on your door. Barely any time passes between the last knock and the creak of someone leaning on your door as they open it. You curse to yourself before spitting in the sink.

“Hey, the bathroom for guests is actually—”

Jaehyun stands in the middle of your room, squinting at the tapestry you have hanging over your bed. The sound of his teeth chattering despite it being the peak of Spring is actually alarming enough to stop you from being mad that Donghuck didn’t think to put a clear sign towards the bathroom for the general public.

“I always thought your room would have candles in it,” Jaehyun drawls. He looks around once more like he’s hoping a candle will jump out of a hiding spot. All his movements are slow and sleepy.

“Are you drunk?”

He grins with eyes that droop closed. “Yep.” 

“Great,” you mumble. When you take a step closer you realize the dark red sleeveless tank he’s wearing is actually dark from being saturated with water. “Why are you wet?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. We played water balloon tag. I lost the last round.”

Jaehyun places a clumsy finger to his lips and stage-whispers a loud “shh”. For some reason you mirror that back to him. He nods, satisfied with your reaction.

“Don’t tell the others, but I...” he hiccups “I got cold, so I came inside.”

“What’s wrong with telling them you’re cold.” He hangs his head in shame then. Clearly you’re missing something important.

“Hyuck says bad bitches never get cold.”

With his shoulders slumped forward in such a pitiful fashion, you actually feel bad for wanting to laugh. It’s surprising. Super surprising actually, considering Jaehyun’s presence in your room means Donghyuck forgot to do the one thing you ask of him when he hosts parties at your place—put clear signs for drunk people to follow to the guest bathroom. You usually don’t want to deal with drunk student athletes, but something about Jaehyun makes him exempt from that.

“You can warm up here.”

As soon as you say the words, you cringe. It sounds like the awful beginnings of a bad porno, but your intentions really are pure. There’s something too sad about watching him nearly doze off while standing up like a newborn colt. So you go and find the best hoodie that you have in your clean laundry and you risk going to the kitchen and getting hit with a runaway water balloon so you can put water on for tea. Hopefully it will warm him up while also sobering him up a little.

“Is this Hyuck’s shirt,” he asks as soon as you return with a steaming mug.

“Uh, I think so.” You take a moment to appraise the hoodie. “Yeah, it’s his. It’s from one of his basketball camps from when we were younger, I think.”

He purses his lips but gratefully takes the mug with swaying hands. After taking a large sip, he hums and lets his head loll back with a smile.

“This is Mrs. Li’s blend.”

“Yeah.” 

It doesn’t seem right to tell him that you’ve been back there a couple times now and have started trying to get into tea. You take the time to put some distance between him and you. You walk to your bed and fluff a pillow that doesn’t need fluffing. The thing is that Jaehyun being in your room feels...weird. He looks all too content and comfortable in the space. That’s not to say he doesn’t suit the environment well. Somehow he looks like he belongs in your room with his soaked tank top and damp hair. You fluff the pillow harder.

“You must be tired,” he says after a long silence. He’s finished his tea but his eyes are still glassy.

“What?”

“Donghyuck told me ‘bout all your projects. Told me you had to draw him for one.”

“Oh, yeah I did. People actually loved that piece the most. But it took me the shortest amount of time.”

“Next time,” he begins ambling across the room, coming to place the empty mug on your bedside table. “Next time, you can ask me to model. If you want.”

“I mean, I only asked Hyuck since he was watching TV and he was there. Plus I know his face so well that it doesn’t even matter if he talks while I paint. The company is kind of nice.”

“Well, you can do it with me next.”

He’s drunk, you remind yourself. He doesn’t realize how strange what he’s saying is. And yet, your face still heats up. The sound of his teeth chattering lightly again reminds you how he got to be in your room in the first place. Jaehyun hugs himself as he continues to check out your room with a small smile on his face. He looks content.

“Do you want to get in,” you offer before your brain can process what your mouth has just done. His eyes go wide.

“Excuse me?” 

“Not—I mean, you just...look really cold and tired. Plus I heard you guys lost the game tonight, so the coach had you hauling ass after.” At the sight of his mildly amused face, tongue nudged between his teeth you add, “I don’t mean you should stay the night. It could just be for a bit and then you could, like, get up and call a cab home. But I get it if you’d rather not. Actually, I can just go see if Hyuck is around. I think he brought his—”

“No, no, stay,” he replies quickly to keep you from jumping out of bed. “I could use the rest.”

He turns around to shrug off the wet tank and pull on the hoodie, mumbling something about ‘not wanting to get your sheets wet’. Internally you wonder if you’re being laughed at by the gods while staring politely at nothing in the other corner of the room. You scoot over from your position in the middle of the bed to the side opposite him. He rewards your kindness with a flash of a bright smile before moving to pull back the covers.

His face lands directly in one of your pillows and you panic when you realize your sheets aren’t fresh out the washer. Jaehyun doesn’t seem to mind and lets out a sigh before shivering a little. With the hood over his hair, you can barely make out his eyes but you can tell they’re trained on you.

“You sure this is okay,” he whispers. 

“Yeah.”

The bed shifts minutely as he turns a little to get more comfortable. It feels hot in the bed all of the sudden. Despite the fact that you have on weather appropriate pajamas and your most lightweight Spring bedding on. Despite the fact that you’re not laying close enough to him to be able to feel any body heat. Maybe it’s warmer outside than you thought. That’s probably it.

---

When you wake up several hours later, it’s to the sound of clanking in your living room. The other side of the bed is empty and you try not to read into it. It wasn’t supposed to be a full night over, after all. You swing your feet over the edge of the bed only to squeal when your foot hits something cold in the little rug you keep there.

“What is it!” Donghyuck crashes into the room while holding the trash bag he was collecting loose beer cans with. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just—oh.”

You look down at the rug and see something shiny and metallic as opposed to something wet and slimy. With your index finger and thumb, you pick up a medium length golden chain. It shines even in the low lighting of your bedroom. You both squint at the jewelry, trying to place it.

Donghyuck’s eye grow wide and he looks around the room in disgust suddenly.

“Was he in here?”

“Uh, yeah,” you grumble as you rub your eyes.

“What for?”

When Donghyuck raises an inquisitive eyebrow, your mouth drops open.

“We just slept—”

“You slept together?”

“Hyuck, not like that! What’s your problem?”

“Still, why is he sleeping in here? You never have guys sleep in here.”

“You sleep in here all the time,” you point a finger at him.

“True,” he cedes immediately, pointing a finger back. “Well, you better return that. I think it’s his lucky charm or something.”

“Can’t you do it?” He laughs before returning to the living room. 

“He didn’t leave it in my bed.” 

“I–fine. I don’t need your help anyway.” 

At that, he snorts.

“You do, but I’ll let you keep thinking that you don’t, because I’m a good friend.”

“You’re annoying, that’s what you are.”

You pull on a sweater before coming out of your room with your phone in hand. There’s a companionable silence that falls over you two as you attempt to draft a text to Jaehyun about his chain while Donghyuck picks up the remaining trash from the party.

“How’d everything go,” you ask once the message is sent.

“It was fine. Jae was so gone that we thought he had flushed himself down the toilet for a while. But I guess that’s not what happened.”

Your face heats up at the teasing tone he uses.

“Hyuck, I have something to tell you.”

“God, what? Are you pregnant?”

“No! What the hell? Are you?” You try to swipe at his butt from the back of the couch.

“No! But...can you just say what you’re gonna say? You’re making me nervous.”

He even goes so far as to put the trash down and come around to sit with you on the sofa. You take a deep breath.

“I have a crush on Jaehyun. I just thought you should know.”

He stares at you, not blinking for a few seconds. He opens his mouth and then shakes his head to himself and closes it again.

“I see,” he finally says.

“It’s been going on a while, and I didn’t want to leave you in the dark.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Nope! I don’t mind being in the shadows. I do some of my best work there.”

“Do you think it could go anywhere?”

“What do you mean,” he throws another can into his bag.

“Like, do you think I have a chance with him?”

Donghyuck turns to stare at you, deadpan. “Do I think you have a chance with Jung Jaehyun? The man who slept in your bed a few hours ago?”

“Yeah.” Your face is completely open and imploring.

He sighs, “I think you might have a shot, sure.”

“Why, though?”

“I don’t know. Just a hunch.”

The next game of the season is a big one. The team coming in to play is an old school rival, so it draws a crowd that contains even the less sport-inclined students. You manage to get a ticket set away, but it’s still tough trying to find a spot to sit. It’s first come first serve with seats since the gym isn’t big enough to have labeled arena seating. 

Initially you had planned to use the extra time you had before the start to return Jaehyun’s chain, but it took you so long to make it from the parking lot to the gym and then to an open seat that there wasn’t any time left. Somewhere in between, you nearly get knocked over by the heavy current of fans from both teams flooding the space. The chain, once clutched in your hand, ends up around your neck out of fear that you lose it permanently.

You end up in the nosebleeds for the rest of the time. The players look like ants and if it weren’t for the large printed numbers on their jerseys, you might not be able to tell all of them apart. You text Donghyuck your location, and you see him looking towards the back rows at the beginning of the game, but he has to stay focused. You try your hardest to focus as well. At this point, you’re just about fluent in the sport that is basketball. But tonight’s game is hard to follow despite this. Jaehyun grabs your attention instead. He plays especially rough tonight, you note. He pushes hard across the court, even gets a couple warnings for defending like he’s on offense. There’s a fair amount of goals with his name on them as well. It’s exciting and you just wish your cheers could reach him.

More annoyance comes when the game finally ends. It’s a last minute shot by one of the other players who walked on this season that tips the game in your school’s favor. The crowd is deafening, even the ending buzzer is muted by their shouts. The bleachers shake under you with the force of fans running to meet their favorite players and generally gloat in front of the other team on the court. The shaking underneath you is terrifying enough to keep you seated until things have died down. There’s still probably a minimum of hundred people gathered on the floor, but you can at least step over empty concession bags as opposed to being stepped on by the supportive members of the hockey team.

It takes forever to find a single person you know. Of course it’s Donghyuck, who is in the middle of talking with some friends from off the team.

“Hyuck,” you begin to run over. When he sees you, you give him a big smile.

“No,” he responds simply as you get closer.

You slow down and let confusion wrinkle your brow. He offers no further verbal explanation but does give you a swift head nod in another direction. You follow the gesture and find Jaehyun at the end of the path. He looks a bit lost despite being with Doyoung and Johnny.

The fact that the others are there makes you freeze up at first, but the feeling of the chain laying delicately on your clavicle reminds you of what you need to do. Luckily, he sees you before the others do and he steps aside under the guise of getting a fresh towel. He waits for you to catch up once he’s out of their line of sight.

His voice is low, like he’s worried being too loud will make you change your mind about talking with him. But there’s an undercurrent of sincere happiness.

“There you are.”

“I was at the top row. I got here too late to sit where I normally do.”

“Ah. I thought maybe you couldn’t make it.”

“There’s no way I would be able to miss this one. Hyuck threatened to shave my head if I did.”

“That...sounds like him.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. The nerves are getting to you a bit. You’ve never confessed your feelings to anyone before, and you’re not sure if Donghyuck was right about you having a shot.

“So, what are you doing—”

“I’ve been meaning to tell—”

You both start talking at once and then immediately clam up when you interrupt each other. 

He gives the floor to you. “You go first.”

“Okay.” 

You reach for the back of your neck and watch as his gaze follows the movement of your hands only for his eyes to light up in recognition.

“I wondered where that thing went.”

“You left it at my place. I put it on because I was scared I’d lose it for real. Sorry.”

He reaches out casually to thumb at the chain around your neck. “Don’t be. It looks good on you.”

“It looks better on you.”

The chain slides off cool against your skin and your fingers shake as you carry the chain over to him. Wordlessly, you reach up and loop your arms around his neck to reunite the chain with its rightful owner. Sweaty palms make it difficult to redo the clasp without being able to see it. It puts you right in his personal space for an awkwardly long time.

“I’m really sweaty,” he whispers.

“Uh, that’s nice?”

He laughs and it puffs off your temple.

“I don’t want to get you dirty, but I really want to kiss you right now.” The clasp finally snaps into place

“Oh.”

The way he leans in, the way his arms come to cage around your waist, the drip of the sweat from his temple down the hinge of his jaw. All of it is slow. As if to give you the space to withdraw if you wanted. But you surge forward into him. And for once it’s not awkward. You don’t know how long you stand there necking like hormonal high schoolers in a sea of people on the gym floor at a school dance, but—just like at the school dance—someone is bursting the gossamer thin ambiance just when Jaehyun’s fingers graze the back pocket of your jeans.

“If you look to your left, boys and girls, you can see two local horndogs engaged in a seasonal ritual” He karate chops a hand down the space between your faces, cutting the kiss off abruptly and nearly bruising Jaehyun’s nose. Meanwhile Taeyong snickers loudly from behind Doyoung.

“Do you have a death wish,” you turn to him with fire in your eyes. He backs up slightly, but attempts to stand his ground.

“Do you know how hard I’ve been working to set you two up?”

“What are you talking about?”

You turn to Jaehyun, who looks just as confused. The gears turning in your heads are practically visible as you and he put 2 and 2 together slowly. The random lies, the weird errands, the sudden party. The blank stares from Donghyuck every time the two of you were in the same room but refused to talk. It all adds up.

“You owe me sweet potato fries for the rest of your life. Maybe longer, I’m not sure yet.”

Donghyuck puts his arms around you and Jaehyun, pulling you with him as he heads out of the gym and towards the exit that leads toward the cafeteria.

“I can’t believe you...puppet-mastered us,” Jaehyun’s voice is airy with disbelief.

“I can’t believe you guys didn’t realize what was going on,” Taeyong snickers on the walk over. Doyoung snorts while lacing their fingers together.

“Yeah, the whole team was in on it.”

“You guys are one to talk.” Donghyuck turns back to give the two boys a humbling once over. “Don’t get me started on how hard it was to get you two losers together.”

Doyoung stops in his tracks, nearly tripping Taeyong in the process. 

“What?”

[intoanothermind]

The Glue - Part Six

T H E   G L U E

Word Count: 3.5k words

Synopsis: Glue or Variable? This is the big question about Frankie’s existence. Assigned to the same role as Newt in WCKD’s Lethal Experiments, Frankie suddenly realizes that she will become just a variable to activate brain reactions in her former Group A friends. Without memories and being the only girl among several boys, she has the feeling of already knowing some of them. The new question that matters to WCKD is: will Frankie play her role as a variable correctly?

- Newt x OC (Frankie)

Masterlist

<Part 5 | Epilogue>

(One more chapter to go and then there will be a spin-off!)

—

P A R T   S I X

“I know you're holding yourself back from crying.” Said Newt, and the girl smiled yellow; a single tear running down his red cheek.

“Perhaps.” She whispered, biting her bottom lip when she felt it tremble.

“Hey.” Newt caught her eye, holding the girl's chin and forcing her to look at him.

The girl felt her heart sink, a feeling of discomfort, fear and insecurity being poured over her like a bucket of cold water. She knew she wouldn't be able to stand there long without Newt and Minho, who had already said goodbye to her. They were selected for the first group of boys who would enter the Clearing of Group A. And she, as a variable, would only enter in two years. It would be the longest two years of her life.

“It's gonna be okay.” Newt assured and the girl felt that deep down he didn't even believe it.

“No, Newt, it won't, and you know it.” She said, her voice cracked and her heart squeezed.

“Yes, it will!” He insisted, forcing her to look him in the eye. “We'll meet again, Frankie.” He said confidently.

“But our memory will be erased!”

“Doesn’t matter.” Newt said, holding the girl's face and looking with such affection that she felt the tightness in her chest easing. “No matter how many thousand times they erase my memory, I will not stop loving you. We will meet again and we will be together again.”

“But we won't remember.” She murmured.

“No,” he agreed, overwhelming sadness filling his eyes. “But we’ll build a new story.”

“Promise?” She asked, beginning to relax and give up so easily.

Before Newt could answer, the door to room GA1-10 opened. Minho stuck his head into the room, his expression devastated and upset.

“Newt, it's time.” He said.

The girl felt her heart racing and her breathing becoming irregular. She wasn’t prepared psychologically and emotionally for this. Minho approached the couple who started to consider their best friends from the moment they entered that place. He turned to the girl, finally realising that, even if he saw her two years from now, he wouldn't remember her.

“Goodbye, shorty.” he murmured, in a choked voice, and the girl could no longer hold back the tears. She hugged him tightly around the waist, knowing she would miss that friendly and comforting hug. “I'll miss you.”

The girl remembered that she would still spend two years watching them, being the only one with memories of the past years together, and she tightened her arms around Minho.

“I will miss you more, Asian boy.” She said before they left.

“Come on, man, Thomas is already waiting for us.” Minho said to Newt, who just nodded, turning to the girl.

“Promise?” She asked him again.

“I promise, Frankie.” He guaranteed, holding her face in hands with all care and affection. “My heart belongs to you, that won't ever change.”

The girl smiled, tears still streaming down her cheeks, and closed her eyes at the feel of Newt's soft, thin lips touching hers. She moved her body closer to his, feeling his natural warmth and enjoying the calm and intense kiss. When Newt was about to walk away, the girl pulled on the back of his neck and didn't let him break the kiss. When they finally pulled away, the girl noticed that Newt had a trail of tears running down his face.

“I love you, Frankie.” He said, walking away.

The girl opened a small smile on her lips.

“I love you too, blondie.” She said, finally letting go of his fingers and watching the closed door where Newt had passed seconds before.

~ * ~

I woke up from a nightmare with someone poking me. I felt sweat clinging a few strands of hair to the back of my neck and I had to regulate my breathing and expel images of Greg from my mind before focusing on my vision. Minho was hunched over the bed I was sleeping with his hand still touching my shoulder. I looked around, seeing Newt lying on a blanket on the floor just beside the bed, his hand still stretched out on the floor as it had been while holding my hand the day before.

“Is everything okay, shorty?” Minho asked, concerned.

Images of Greg trying to make me a victim and his Banishment on closing the Doors. I preferred to change the subject.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, sitting on the bed and pinning my hair in a bun on top of my head.

“I came to say goodbye to you, but I found you struggling.” he explained, walking away when I went to get out of bed. “Bad dream?”

I nodded, getting up carefully not to wake Newt. “Does he really have such a heavy sleep?” I asked laughing.

“You have no idea.” Minho said, rolling his eyes as he led me out of the room and Homestead.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked, frowning.

“I'll take you to eat.” He said. “I believe you will not go back to sleep.”

“Not even if I try.” I immediately agreed to remember the nightmare I had.

We entered the kitchen and suddenly I wanted to run. Not many kids were awake at that hour, but as soon as I entered I had the impression that they multiplied. It was uncomfortable with all those kids staring at me and I wished Minho hadn't woken me up from that nightmare. Sooner or later I would have woken up on my own. But I hated those looks on me, blaming myself for Greg being banned the day before.

“Breathe, Frankie!” I heard Minho's voice and let out the air I didn't even realize I was holding. “Let's get you something to eat.”

I followed him quietly to Frypan, feeling uncomfortable about my own skin. Frypan smiled weakly at me while preparing two dishes. I didn't even manage to reciprocate and soon Minho was pulling me between the tables. We sat across from Ben and I almost wanted to stick my face in the soup.

“Are you okay, Frankie?” He asked, looking concerned .

“Not really.” I replied, smiling a little yellow.

I ate in silence, just listening to Minho and Ben talking about Grievers and the Maze. After a while, Chuck came over and sat down next to me. He gave me a quick hug before eating as quietly as I did. I was surprised at first, but I soon opened what was the first real smile that day. I went back to eating, more focused on my thoughts than the spoonfuls of soup. Suddenly, however, a commotion caught my attention. The noise from the kitchen made me realize that something was wrong.

I poked Minho arm. “Aren't you and Ben supposed to be entering the Maze now?!”

Minho looked a little disconcerted and Ben swallowed. Something was really wrong.

“Minho?! Ben?!” I asked, arching an eyebrow suggestively.

Minho opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but Ben stopped him.

“Alby gave us a day off today.” Ben said.

I frowned, suspicious of their explanation. I opened my mouth to ask what the hell would have given Alby to give the Runners a day off.

“We won't come in until later.” Minho said, as if reading my thoughts.

I thought about letting this matter go, until some Gladers passed me and I heard Greg's name.

“What did you just say?” I asked while holding his arm and realizing that it was one of the Builders. “What's happening?”

The boy looked indecisively at me and then over my shoulder. I followed his gaze and saw Minho scratching the back of his neck, as if disguising any movement he made before. The anger that they were hiding something started to grow in me and I was even more determined to find out what it was. I got up from the bench and, despite being shorter than the boy, I looked slightly more menacing.

“Tell me!” I demanded, shooting him a hard glare.

He swallowed hard before answering me.

“They are picking up the  Greg’s body that the Grievers left in front of the East Gate.” He said, looking at Minho as if to apologize. “They'll bury him in the cemetery of Deadheads and cross his name off the wall.”

I took advantage of being already standing and ran out of the kitchen towards the East Door. A group of boys blocked my view. I looked back over my shoulder and saw Minho approaching with Ben; they were Runners, they would reach me easily. I took the only opportunity I could have and infiltrated through the boys, who seemed too surprised seeing me there to have any reaction other than letting me pass. When I got to the Doors, I saw Alby and Newt with some boys kneeling in front of a misshapen heap. When I approached, I realized it was Greg, or what was left of him. Deformed, bloody body, and torn clothing; another scene that I would never forget. I barely noticed when I gasped in terror.

“Frankie!” I heard Minho's voice right behind me and he tried to pull me away, but I was in shock, with a certain amount of guilt filling me little by little, to follow any movement.

Newt turned in surprise, his eyes wide, and stood up to come to us.

“I asked you not to let her see it!” Newt said irritably, and I finally understood why Minho had dragged me into the kitchen.

“I couldn't do anything!” Minho raised his arms in surrender, defending himself. “This little one is fast and it is not easy to hold her.”

Newt sighed, rubbing the tense spot between his eyes, and turned me around, taking me away.

“You shouldn't have to see that...” he mumbled.

I was still in shock. “It’s my fault...”

Newt stopped suddenly, standing in front of me and holding my shoulders to force me to look him in the eye.

“No, it's not!” he exclaimed in a loud tone that startled me. “You are a Glader and it is against the rules to hurt another one!”

“It would be so much easier if I went to the Maze at night and my name was crossed off the Wall...” I reflected, seeing Gally scratching Greg's name.

“Don't say that again!” He said, looking horrified at the idea.

“It would be better if I didn't show up.” I muttered, hoping he wouldn't hear, but it was in vain.

“But if you hadn't shown up, I would never know what is love.” He murmured, and I turned to him, who had flushed cheeks.

“What did you say?” I asked, just for confirmation, because I had heard it in clear and loud sound.

Newt blushed even more, which in particular seemed even more cute and charming.

“No-nothing. You work with me and Zart today to avoid... any other attacks.” He changed the subject quickly. “Let's go!”

He guided me quickly towards the Gardens.

If you hadn't shown up, I would never know what it is love. - I remembered his words, and I couldn't stop a dreamy smile from opening on my lips. I certainly wouldn't forget that phrase and I wanted an explanation for it. I shook my head, not wanting to be more confused than I already was, and followed him to the gardening tools area. Newt took a bag of seeds, a small hand shovel and a not too large watering can and handed it to me.

“Your task is to plant these seeds.” He started to say, but I soon interrupted him.

“Who's in charge?” I asked.

“Zart.” Replied Newt, frowning.

“Then I will ask for a job where I am more useful.” I said, turning to go to the blond boy who was approaching the Gardens.

Newt grabbed my wrist, preventing me from continuing.

“You know he won't change your role.” He said, opening a suggestive half smile that made my heart race.

I rolled my eyes. “And why not?”

“As if I would let you do something with the risk of getting hurt!” He said as if it was obvious.

But it wasn't, at least not for me. I walked away from Newt, angered by the sense of futility taking me again, and looked through the ranks where I would plant the new seeds. I spent the next few hours without speaking to Newt, just watching him cut a few feet of wheat as I crawled across the land - opening a hole, throwing the seed, closing the hole and watering; several times. It wasn't as exhausting as working with Builders or Slicers, but after a while the heat was already punishing me and my body was asking for the bed. I was so focused on my own work that I was startled when heard a scream and realized it was there in the Gardens. I released the spade and the watering can and got up quickly, looking for the source of the sound. When I found it, I wished I hadn't. Newt was grimacing, while Zart and some boy I didn't know held him. I ran up to them, worry blinding my rational thoughts.

“What happened?!” I asked, feeling my heart squeeze when I saw a wide cut in Newt's limp leg.

“It looks like a mechanical beetle attacked him and he ended up hitting his leg with the hoe.” Explained Zart.

I felt a click in my mind and the instructions seemed to come in a jet.

“Take him to the infirmary.” I said, already moving away from them. Newt looked at me as if asking me not to go. “I'll go ahead to warn the Med-jacks.” I explained.

I didn't wait for any answer other than a moan of pain from Newt and I ran off towards Homestead, not caring when Alby and Chuck tried to stop me and ask what had happened. I didn't pay attention to anyone until I got to the room where the infirmary was. Jeff and Clint stood up at once, surprised by my appearance.

“Frankie?!” Exclaimed Clint.

“Newt...” I mumbled, panting for the emotions that were conflicting in my mind. “He hurt his leg and Zart is bringing him.”

Jeff had an immediate reaction: he turned to straighten the stretcher while Clint ran to get cotton and alcohol. Soon after I saw Minho, Alby and Zart carrying Newt inside the door and sweating from him, contorted in pain. He was placed on the stretcher and Alby turned to us.

“Frankie, Minho and Zart, you can leave now.” Alby said seriously.

My legs went weak and when I saw Jeff cleaning Newt's wound I wasn’t able to get out. Zart passed me without paying much attention to me, and Minho squeezed my hand before leaving. I stayed where I was, just taking my eyes between Alby and Newt.

“Frankie...” began Alby, in a warning tone.

I thought about how Newt had stayed by my side the day before, without complaining about my crying, without even leaving once. And now I could reciprocate.

“No, Alby, I will not leave his side.” I said firmly, approaching Newt and sitting on the stretcher next to him.

Alby sighed, giving up arguing with me.

“Okay, just don't get in the way.” He said at last.

“I won’t.” I guaranteed.

Jeff and Clint continued their work, but I preferred not to see what they were doing. I preferred to hold Newt's hand, watching his drawn face every time he shook my hand.

“It's too deep.” I heard Jeff's voice and I turned to him quickly, eyes widening. “We will have to stitch it.”

His words were like a trigger and Clint soon went to a closet in the corner of the room. When he returned, he was carrying thread, needle, gauze band, candle and lighter. I gasped when I didn't see a syringe.

“Without anesthesia?” I asked, surprised.

Clint denied it. “The Creators never sent us anesthesia.”

“Damn it!” Newt swore and my mind immediately started to work, thinking of something I could do to ease his pain.

An insane idea came to mind, but I soon dismissed it, embarrassed. When I heard Newt's scream, I knew that Jeff was already working with the needle and I wouldn't have that much time to think of a better idea. I took a deep breath, not wanting to analyze the consequences of my act, but preparing myself for them. I held Newt's face in my hands and he frowned at me, beads of sweat running down his forehead. I closed my eyes not to see his expression and sealed our lips. I felt his muscles tense, until his hands came to rest on my waist. I shivered when I felt his fingers brushing the bare skin of my hip and scratched the back of his neck automatically. I didn't know what to do, much less how to act from there. When Newt, however, squeezed my hips, I knew that just that wouldn't distract him.

I parted my lips and a whirlwind of feelings flooded me when our tongues clashed. I didn't notice anything around us but the shock of our lips, my fingers in his soft blond hair and his hands on my waist and my face. We parted, panting, and Newt sealed our lips one last time before allowing me to lean away completely. Jeff had finished bandaging his leg and Alby was looking at any place other than us looking extremely uncomfortable.

I wanted to laugh.

“Rest for a few days and remember to change the dressing.” Said Clint.

“In the meantime we will get some crutch, just be careful not to open the stitches.” Jeff recommended, already carrying Clint and Alby out of the room, casting a malicious smile in our direction. “Let's leave the love birds alone.”

I bit my lip nervously, trying to avoid looking at Newt, until he pulled my face in his direction and I saw a sparkle in his eyes and a smile on his lips.

“It was a good distraction.” He commented and I ended up smiling sideways.

“It was, wasn’t it?” That was the only thing I managed to say before he nodded and kissed me again.

~ * ~

Weeks later...

“Look, I don't know who you are, but you better do something decent for once and send anesthesia, new medicines and women's clothing with the next lucky shank who arrives next week.” I howled at the mechanical beetle that was on the wall in front of me.

The beetle left quickly and I turned to Newt, who, even with his leg still bandaged, could now walk with a crutch and was waiting for me leaning on a tree not far from there.

“I don't know if I'm more frightened by the way you spoke to the Creators or my shirt that became a dress on you.” He commented, laughing while giving her a light slap on the arm.

“Silly boy.” I mumbled, taking the hem of the blouse that went up to the middle of the thigh and made a knot around my hip.

Newt laughed, grabbing my waist and pulling me against him, making me hit his chest.

“How much time do you think we still have?” I whispered, touching our foreheads and taking his hair in my hands.

Newt groaned, squeezing my waist.

“Enough time.” he said before sealing our lips and making me forget our reality. But it didn't matter.

I was with Newt.

Everything would be just fine.

[hnybnny]

properly introducing my main fanservants!!!

LOTS OF PHOTOS/ART AND SUCH UNDER THE CUT BUT LIKE,,,, THIS IS JUST. A QUICK INTRODUCTION. TO MY PRIMARY SERVANT BASTARD CHILDREN- (in order of appearance; Sebastian Moran, John Watson, Enola Holmes, Columbia, Thomas Edison (True), Nicolas Flamel, Captain Stormalong, Edgar Allan Poe)

Feel free to hop in my ask box if you wanna talk about them or have any questions!!! Thank you for reading ily- 

Colonel Sebastian Moran (Assassin)

My primary servant OC by far! Professor James Moriarty’s chief-of-staff and right hand man- the second most dangerous man in London, after the Napoleon of Crime himself. Nicknamed ‘Basher’ or ‘Tiger Jack’, among others..

Moran is- or was- the most skilled marksman in the British Army, before he was dishonorably discharged. There are only a handful of men on the face of the continent able to shoot as well as he. As well as being an unnaturally skilled shot, he is a devoted sportsman and big-game hunter, and has notoriously tangled with tigers by himself in India- a predator that rather aptly describes the man himself. He authored two books, and his feats are still legendary in India, where his record 'bag of tigers' still goes unmatched. Although his outwards appearance was that of a respectable London gentleman and honorable military veteran, he gained a reputation in the evil underworld and was recruited by James Moriarty, serving as his 'chief of staff' of his criminal empire as well as his personal assassin for jobs that required his peculiar skill with a rifle.

The man is, as one Chaldean staff member puts it, a 'stone-cold badass'. He has a nerve of iron, and is vehemently loyal to both Professor Moriarty and his Master. He lives for danger, and the thrill that comes with 'kill or be killed' situations. Moran is also extremely easy and obvious to read- smiling 'like an idiot' when happy, and 'frowning like thunder' when angry. He does rather enjoy killing people, and is overall a man of few morals (although still having more than the Professor)- which, paired together, is what led to his leave from the military as he's practically a walking example of the 'Colonel Kilgore' trope. The more challenging the kill, the more enjoyment he gets out of it. As a strange upside, Moran has no illusions of how he's a right bastard.

"Ask anyone who knew me in the army, and you'll hear the same things about Basher: tiger in the field, bounder in the mess; a good man to have your back, but a bad man to show your back to; trust him with a fight, but not your sister, your wallet, or a deck of cards."

His Noble Phantasm, which represents his unmatched skill with a rifle, is called  BEBR DER KHANH KHALI - Persian for ‘the tiger in the empty house’. 

The bullet shot is, unlike others, a specially-made expanding revolver bullet which makes Moran unable to be likely linked to the kill. Much like a ghost or a tiger stalking its prey, he is completely silent in his attack, and the target can never see him coming before they're already dead- and just as quickly he is gone, seemingly disappearing into thin air without a trace.

No matter the conditions or distance, as long as Moran can see his target in some way- whether by the naked eye or through his scope, or perhaps in some other manner- his shot is guaranteed to hit its mark with deadly accuracy.

Also, if you find him not wearing his coat, it’s probably because he gave it to Jack. He loves knife child. They deserve proper clothes.

(source: amon-sheep on twitter)

(source: manalmmune on twitter)

[[LINK TO HIS CHAPTER IN MY FANSERVANT FIC]]

--

Doctor John Watson (Caster)

The famed Boswell and best friend of the great detective himself. Aman who is most like his traditional origin, as opposed to the heavyset comedic figure modern media tends to make him out to be- aka the Watson that is described by Doyle as a former rugby player, an army man, and popular among the fairer sex due to his handsomeness, intelligence, and charm. 

He quickly becomes a proper ‘fatherly’ figure in Chaldea and especially to Master, due to his big dad energies, despite never having the chance to be a father in his life. Chaldea also appreciates finally having a proper doctor that isn’t a Berserker or... whatever’s going on with Ascelpius. Watson is Holmes’s life compass, the loyal companion always by his side who balances the detective out. 

Although he’s a caster, he also wields his trusty wartime revolver, and is curious in that, unlike most casters, he has one offensive Noble Phantasm- it’s his secondary, and his primary ‘Conductor of Light’ crystallizes Watson's role as a 'whetstone' for Sherlock Holmes's mind and unmatched stimulator of his famous flatmate's genius. As Holmes himself summarizes, “It may be that you are not yourself luminous, but that you are a conductor of light. Some people without possessing genius have a remarkable power of stimulating it.” This Noble Phantasm is purely supportive, serving to bring out the absolute best in an ally- whether it be manifested in power, magic, or inspiration- and temporarily unlocking a vast wealth of potential that they might not have even known they had. The exact limitations or bounds of it is not known, as it can seemingly extend in purpose as far as Watson or his Master might need it to in a given situation- able to provide buffs, grant moments of unmatched mental clarity or courage, and even unlock hidden abilities and Noble Phantasms if the moment is dire enough. His secondary NP is one he rarely uses, and hates to do so, because of the bad memories it dredges up- called ‘The Reichenbach Solution’, it creates a reality marble recreation of Reichenbach, with the roaring waters and a single shot from Watson himself sending the enemy tumbling off the falls to their demise. 

Watson was old friends with Moran in the army, and reconnect during their time in Chaldea (despite Holmes and Moriarty’s protests), and he also joins the ‘author squad’ and spends much time with them. He is a rational man and sturdy as they come, always there when needed; whether it be to patch up wounds, help solve mysteries, or to help Master deal with all the mental trauma from their adventures (because holy shit they need HELP-). Also Also he probably just straight up adopts Mash, he and Holmes are her new gay dads.

(source: gomooink on twitter)

--

Enola Holmes (Ruler)

If Sherlock is the representation of all great detectives, then the teenage Enola Holmes is the representation of all female sleuths. Originally far too weak to be a servant- her source material being extremely modern (Enola Holmes series by Nancy Springer), she contains the essence of the great detectives of the fairer sex, but most importantly of two Divine spirits- Athena and Persephone (not Ma’at, despite what the image says-), both Greek goddesses. Athena is the dominant of the two, and a maternal figure to Enola, while Persephone is content just to sit back and enjoy the ride.

The younger sister of Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes (and sometimes, the mysterious elder sibling Sherrinford), Enola is much like her more famous brother- similar in lanky stature and physical features, including the prominent hawk-like nose. She is plain in appearance but behind bright eyes hides an intelligent, clever mind, albeit a stubborn and hard-headed one. She is a rebel at heart, resisting the efforts of society to shove her into the mold of a perfect subservient Victorian woman. Enola often uses being underestimated due to her sex and age to her advantage, and, like Sherlock, is quite adept at the art of disguise. With her Spirit Origin also containing figures like Nancy Drew and Miss Marple, Enola is a talented private investigator with a knack for seeing things from angles that other’s can’t- like that of a woman.

Also yeah, she gay. Keep scrolling. She would like to hold hands with Mash very much. 

(enola w/ her brother mycroft; source, dewa-chan)

(concepts for her ascensions, mostly cemented, again courtesy of dewa-chan who i owe my life to always and forever-)

--

Columbia (Ruler)

The Divine Servant calling herself Columbia is a complex individual. At face value, she is the personification of the United States of America, often visualized as a goddess; a quasi-mythical figure first written about by the enslaved poet Phillis Wheatley during the Revolutionary War in her work To His Excellency, George Washington. Columbia is, in fact, an amalgamation of two lesser Divine Spirits. One of them is the Roman goddess of liberty, Libertas. The majority of personifications of liberty are merely aspects and appearances of her, including the Statue of Liberty and the unidentified woman in the painting Liberty Leading the People, leading to Libertas having a more powerful- if rather confusing- Spirit Origin compared to most other minor Roman deities. The other is Columbia herself; a goddess first encountered by Chaldea during the odd adventures with Paul Bunyan. She is the symbol of America, and although she is technically a goddess, she is not worshiped- instead existing as an anthropomorphic personification akin to Uncle Sam. She is a goddess crafted by humankind, a manifestation of the thirst for freedom and equality that resides in the heart of man.

However, her existence is still closely intertwined with Libertas, having come from her 'lineage'; Columbia explains that if other personifications of liberty were to manifest, such as Marianne- the French icon of liberty, they would have to have Libertas accompanying their own Spirit Origin to be anything more than a Phantom. Columbia is not only linked to the nation carrying the name America, but to the land itself- in her earliest incarnations she served as a representation of the Americas- both South and North- to those across the Atlantic. She protects all who walk across the great frontier, and all those who have walked it before. Geronimo often voices his hopes that she is the same goddess that brought the first peoples of the yet-unnamed land delicious maize in abundance; Columbia only ever gives a knowing wink, always keeping the answer to herself.

Columbia tries to speak like a newscaster- that is, without an accent- to hide that fact that her true accent as a Servant is the thickest fucking New York brogue you can imagine. AYYYY, SHE’S WALKIN’ ‘EEEEERE!!!!

She has two Noble Phantasms- a support one, her main, called ‘ TORCH OF THE NEW COLOSSUS: THE DREAM OF A NATION ‘, and an offensive albeit rarely used NP called ‘ STRIKE FOR FREEDOM: DO NOT WEEP, FOR WAR IS KIND ‘ that has anti-Country parameters /because it straight up fuckin’ manifests the american military from all across its history-/

Columbia is just... a big country mom. who can grow to the size of the statue of liberty. whoops. 

[[LINK TO HER INTRO CHAPTER IN MY FANSERVANT FIC]]

--

Thomas Edison (True) (Caster(?))

BASTARD MAN. BASTARD. This Thomas Edison, though being initially called an Alter, is actually the True manifestation of the ‘Wizard of Menlo Park’ without the influence of so many presidential heroic spirits. To match Tesla, he’s a 5*. I have him as Caster but... that’s still up in the air, tbh. 

He will steal your Noble Phantasm and claim it as his own. It’s actually one of his Skills- ‘Intellectual Copyright’. It blocks an enemy's ability to use their Noble Phantasm, sealing it for a length of time, while also buffing Edison in return- the strength of the buff received is proportionate to the strength of the sealed Noble Phantasm. This embodies Edison's habit of taking other people's ideas for his own, and while he often improved upon them, he still claimed them as solely his creations. He can copy the abilities of others and shape them to his own needs, always at the ready with a lawsuit in hand if anyone dare complain!

He is not allowed around Ivan or Ganesha due to his history with elephants and electrocution.

His Noble Phantasm (he may have more than one, he gets VERY shifty when asked) is a manifestation of his most terrible and deadly creation- the electric chair. He can also create a reality marble of a fantastical Menlo Park, a thriving center of innovation and invention, using his Territory Creation. 

Did I mention he’s a bastard? God, he’s a bastard. He’s incredibly intelligent BUT HE IS A BASTARD. He’s Evil alignment (arguably, may be Chaotic Netural-). It pains Tesla to admit that he actually likes normal Edison (furry man) much more. 

Ask him what he did to Louie Le Prince and he’ll sock you in the jaw and take off running (and also not answer). 

--

Nicolas Flamel (Caster)

The Alchemist, the great and immortal Nicolas Flamel himself. He’s a sad old lanky Frenchman DILF dad who misses his wife a lot, and is always ready to throw hands with Merlin and/or Paracelsus. He’s a potential candidate for the Grand Caster class, but is behind Solomon and Merlin in ‘line’.  Flamel was a successful French scribe who would gain a reputation as an alchemist after his death in 1418- or at least, his presumed death. He was rumored to have been successful in his creation of the Philosopher's Stone, an artifact with the ability to transmute base metals, and with it was able to create a way to achieve immortality. This Stone was his magnum opus, and he was the first to successfully create it- a fact he makes sure that Paracelsus is aware of at all times.

Also, much like Merlin, he’s not a true Servant. This is THE Nicolas Flamel. But... what happened to Perenelle, his wife? He does not like to talk about it.

He enjoys peace and quiet, educated debate, and reading. Flamel gets on quite well with his fellow Frenchman Dantes, as well as with Waver/El Meloi. 

THE DRAGONS OF FLAMEL (Skill): Flamel summons a staff of Cadeceus. Carried by the Greek god Hermes in mythology, it is said "...wake the sleeping and send the awake to sleep. If applied to the dying, their death was gentle; if applied to the dead, they returned to life". In the hands of Flamel, it can stun an enemy or counteract the effects of a stun-inducing skill upon an ally. As well as that, it can channel the effects of its corresponding god-named element mercury, able to dissolve many metals like silver and gold at will. However, like mercury, this skill is extremely volatile and prone to backfiring violently on Flamel if overused.

ELIXER OF LIFE (Skill): The ultimate alchemical creation- the solution, part of Flamel's legend, that granted he and his wife immortality. He keeps a small flask of the elixer on him at all times, and can be used in a pinch to heal all of Flamel's physical wounds, or that of a singular ally. However, it is not enough to grant an ally immortality, nor is it enough to heal multiple mortal wounds. The substance takes exactly one week, given the right materials, for Flamel to remake and refill his flask with some of the elixer.

He has two Noble Phantasms, one being ‘The Stone of the Philosphers’, and the other being ‘The Book of Abra-Melin the Mage’.

[[LINK TO HIS INTRO CHAPTER IN MY FANSERVANT FIC ALSO THERES A LATER CHAPTER WHERE HE ATTEMPTS TO THROW HANDS W/ PARACELSUS]]

--

Captain Alfred Bulltop Stormalong (Rider)

Captain Alfred Bulltop Stormalong is, plainly put, pretty much a nautical version of Paul Bunyan. Like Bunyan, he can change his size at will, growing to huge proportions. His giant ship was said to have hinged masts so as not to catch them on the moon, and had a stable of Arabian horses on board for his crew to get from one end of the ship to the other! Stormalong is said to have had a lifelong rivalry with the fabled Kraken- but unfortunately for the legendary sea beast, it got summoned alongside Stormalong and has begrudgingly taken up residence in his hat in a somewhat smaller form.

His main weapon (not drawn) is a ship's anchor he wields like a flail. His pipe is really just for the aesthetic as he can't use it to smoke, but it does blow bubbles! His Noble Phantasm is The Courser and the Kraken (Massive all-enemy damage + stun).

He’s a good boy who loves boats, the water, and clam chowder. 

--

Edgar Allan Poe (Foreigner)

The alcoholic author himself, Edgar Allan Poe is a Foreigner-class servant, being linked with the King in Yellow- Hastur the Unspeakable.

Sometimes you can find him locked in a tiny pitch-black closet with Dantes and Sherlock, all three of them puffing away in utter silence on their tobacco. Hastur most often takes the form of a multi-eyed raven chillin’ on his shoulder, and is capable of speech- if prodded, he will shit-talk the patrons of Poe’s fellow foreigners. He really doesn’t like Cthulhu and Yog, even if Poe has psuedo-adopted Abby, WHOOPS. Hastur, to his credit, is the least malevolent Elder God/patron in Chaldea- though if he is seen chatting with Moriarty by any servants or staff, Master must be alerted immediately.

True to form, he’s very macabre, with a unique dramatic way of speaking much like his writings. He’s unsettling and creepy, but has impeccable manners and likes to chat (he’s very lonely-). He enjoys a good mystery, and is prepared to find Arthur Conan Doyle if he be a heroic spirit and beating the snot out of him for treating Holmes so poorly- Poe was the inventor of the detective fiction genre, after all. Most of skills manifest visually as references to his most famous works. His NP is ‘ A DREAM WITHIN A DREAM : THE CRY OF THE YELLOW RAVEN, NEVERMORE ‘ 

He doesn’t know what a ‘Hot Topic’ is, but it sounds intriguing!

And no, he doesn’t know what the hell was up with his death either. Weird shit happens in Boston.

[kkulmoon]

SUGAR & SALT | The First Snow Has Melted (2)

pairing(s): rich boy!kim taehyung x baker!reader (f) + park jimin x named OC & kim seokjin x named OC

genre:  angst (?), slice of life, romance, smut (later chapters), slow burn, fluff (occasional), s2l, e2l, countryside-ish au

word count: 6.7k

rating: pg

a/n: i took way too long to update this 🤡(it won’t happen again 🥺) and i am doing so with such a shitty chapter lol but hey at least I managed to finish it. also thank you to my lovely beta reader for giving me much needed advice about where i should go with this, @scvkjin​, angie you’re truly an angel 💕😭

warnings: some swearing

synopsis: You’re a small town baker, whose business is on the line following questionable decisions made by your town’s political board. You decide to take action in order to salvage your reputation as the town’s favourite baker. 

What you didn’t expect was to fight for your precious secular life that keeps being invaded by the best friend of the owner of your rivalling bakery, Taehyung. He also happens to be the one in charge of your lack sugar, due to a minor (depending on the point of view) mistake, though he’s known as quite the conscientious count.

You’re a baker.

A bad one, it seems. Even with Taehyung, Jimin, Seokjin and Ada, the finest products and tools at your disposal, you seem to cook up a disappointing dish. So whose fault is it really?

☁︎ previous chapter ☁︎

The journey back is just as agonising if not more. You keep your eyes closed in hopes of catching some sleep but all in vain.

Thump! Taehyung's legs are about to drive you insane. You move your jacket's hoodie to cover your ears, hoping he gets the memo. He keeps going. It is really annoying but you don’t you feel like telling him to stop and possibly make him more anxious than he already was, so you hold out. A few minutes pass by and he seems to calm himself, so you decide to take down your hood. To your right Ada's head lays on Jimin shoulders as their chest oscillate, up and down, at a steady rhythm.

You're brought back to your high school days, when the two fell in love for the first time. Jimin was your go-to friend, who also happened to be your only friend. Ada was, and still is, a hopeful admirer in disguise. It's actually quite hard for you to comprehend how two people can be so obvious about their feelings while simultaneously being negligent about the subject of their affection.

You shake your head. You've reached the threshold for your daily analysis of your best friends' relationship. You shift in your seat and dangle your feet. The boredom is crippling and the humid air in the bus is making your hair frizzy.

"Arghhhhhh!"

Itching for some action , you turn to your right and say, "What's the matter?"

"Is everyone in Warringham like you?" Taehyung wonders. He stares straight at you making you tilt your head back to the left.

While you're glad at the increase in activity, you aren't sure that being indirectly insulted is the type of action you are currently looking for. But there's nothing better for you to do. Indulging in some self deprecation wouldn't be too bad given your recent behaviour.

"If you're referring to being hostile, then not so much," you say, thinking about the new bakery that recently open across from yours, "but they are weary, change isn't really an appreciated thing."

"So they don't like outsiders?" he pushes.

"No and yes. Outsiders that are trying to change things, that's what they don't appreciate."

Taehyung drags his hand down his face. "Goodness gracious, I guess I will have to deal with the backlash at some point."

You could have told Taehyung that backlash in Warringham is more like rage. However you don't feel like that is your responsibility, so you hold your mouth shut. You're sure Jimin would have his back. Brotherly love or whatnot.

"By the way, why are you asking me this," you add, "don't you already live in Warringham?"

"Well yeah, technically, but it hasn't been that long. I had only been there for about two weeks before I followed Jimin here. I didn't have much to do so I stayed in for the most part."

You truly want to scoff at Taehyung's reply but you think of one word: Jimin. People truly do live different lives. You wish you had the privilege of  staying at home. You wish your mom and your brother had the privilege of staying at home. Maybe things would have turned out different for you. Maybe you would have been different and befriending Taehyung wouldn't feel like combing your hair while it's dry, meaning impossible.

"Why did you move to Warringham anyways?"

You raise your eyebrows while bracing yourself. This should be a good one.

"I needed some change. I got bored of the city, as one does, and a friend needed some help," he says matter of factly.

"Ahhh, exactly as one does." You nod as the sides of your lips drag down.

To feign familiarity with such a concept is all you can do at the moment. Your lives and reasoning are being revealed to be so diametrically opposed, you doubt that your individual bonds to Jimin would be enough to allow the two of you to connect.

You try to find a way to end the conversation. Talking to Taehyung only seems to involve judgement one way or the another. Taehyung's body shifts towards you. You guess he's in a talkative mood, now that he has calmed down. But you are not, at least not anymore.

So you pull your hood up back onto your head. For the first time since you bought the jacket, you're happy it's too big for you. That way you get to avoid glancing or being glanced at by unwanted subjects. The rest of the ride back is silent, just as before. Lucky for you it's nothing unusual, just how you like it.

Quick and heavy steps sound against the gravel in front of your porch. You would already be on your bed hugging your phone by now had it not been for you having to drag both yours and Ada's suitcases into the house.

Apparently her and Jimin needed some privacy. For what? You really don't know, what else would they need to talk about? They have been attached at their hips for the past two weeks one could almost think that she went on vacation with him and not you. In fact, that’s probably what people thought. You remember catching elderly couples and young parents glancing cutely at the pair. 

She had said, and you remember it clearly: 'This will be a time for me and you to simply relax and have fun together. Make some new golden memories in a shitty place’.

Lies, lies, lies.

You remind yourself to not easily cave in next time she suggests you do a common activity. That isn't even the worst part. You were made to leave your beloved work phone. It’s not that you didn’t believe in your staff, but the bakery is the only thing you’re remotely passionate about. Your life revolves around it, leaving it behind even for just two weeks, was a harder task that you thought it would be.

You huff as you use the little of your remaining force to lift Ada's suitcase up the few stairs on your porch. For someone who seemed to have worn pretty much the same clothes during your stay at Punniton her bag sure was heavy. Or it must probably be all the baggage she carries from her failed romantic endeavours. Yes, you just said that, because once again, yes you're that type of friend. Loving, supporting but judgemental and blunt nonetheless.

You strut all the way to your room while the odd bone crack disturbs you. For all the money you paid for your stay at Punniton you sure as hell deserved better beds. Bed with wire lattices? Come on, it's not like we were going to boarding school.

You may need to leave a bad yelp review. It was your seventh year there after all, you're bound to feel entitled to some things at some point. Anyways, it's not like yelp reviews really count to anyone outside of the city, so you'll simply just write one to satisfy your own petty behaviour. 

You walk to the end of your room to open the window. The air is stale and mixed with another scent that you can't quite catch. You turn to face your bedside table. HA! On it there is a moldy orange. The orange you should have taken taken with you for the train ride to Punniton.

With a pair of scissors at your disposal you poke into the orange. Something you soon realise you shouldn't have done now that there's a small puddle of orange juice on your table. You hurry into the kitchen to throw it away. While you're at it you glance outside through the kitchen window. What are they talking about?

Ada's head turns towards you and you duck as fast as you can. You creepily lift your head back up to find that they are kissing. The creases that form on your forehead would be able to be seen  from miles away. You're also sure that someone could inspect the back of your throat right now from how wide your mouth is open. It has been two weeks, and they are already locking lips!?

Huh, you guess it must be easy to get over a couple years of emotional trauma if you're really in love with one another. You spend some more time analysing their kiss. Was is a 'I'll see you soon 'kind of kiss, or the 'I love you but i can't tell you' kind of kiss, or the 'I have been wanting to kiss you for the last 2 weeks' kind of kiss. 

For someone who claims to be trying their best to live their best life, you really are concerned with other people's problems. But how couldn't you? If you're thinking logically, which you always are, hurt Ada equals you having to mend her wounds. On top of that you would also have to deal with another strain to yours and Jimin's friendship.

So yes, them trying to get together again is just as much their business as it's yours. If things go wrong you'll be the one standing between the crossfire and while the last one was quite mild, you believe years of pent up frustration will blow up this time.

As much as you would like to keep watching them go at it, it feels too  private and you're not a creep so you look away and walk back to your room. You reach for your bedside table's drawer to get a hold of your phone so you can turn it on.

There's two possible scenarios. First one, no one messaged you, in which case everything is under control. Or, no one messaged you because they either forgot or deemed whatever happened to be too serious to say over text.

The moment you type in your code while your phone tries its best to recognise the house's wifi, you're so startled you automatically get up from your bed.

Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!

Okay, so you obviously got messages and now you are scared. You navigate your way to your messages. Eight missed messages from Joe, one of your staff.

December 17th

[09:10] (Joe) Hello Y/N. So we have a problem...

[10:05] (Joe) Hello? Are you there?

[10:15] (Joe) I don't know if you're getting these messages but I'll go ahead and explain the situation.

[10:18] (Joe) So we just got an email from the municipality saying that there was an inconvenience with one of the  papers you sent in for the bakery's inventory.

[10.20] (Joe) They have got everything else ordered and it should arrive on time. However, the paper for the sugar order can't be found anywhere.

December 18th

[10.35] (Joe) You haven't answered and nobody knows where you went for vacation. The only person who would know also most likely happens to be with you.

[10.38] (Joe) Since it is a time of crisis I went over your log for the bakery's inventory and rewrote a sugar order based on your notes. So I have now gone to the municipality and deposited the order papers.

December 20th

[08.20] (Joe) So the municipality just got back to us. They have said that the order is now registered however there will be a month long delay before it arrives given the fact that it was ordered during a vacation and other businesses most likely are before us in the deliveries.

This. This is why caring for things is something you try to avoid. You could do everything right from your end and yet there's no guarantee that you would at least get rewarded for that. In fact, worst case scenario you could even end up being wrongly penalised for it. That's where you are currently standing and you feel awful and betrayed. Which is a funny thing since this wasn't even done by someone you actually knew. The downside to taking things and caring for them...

Your body stays in a paralysed state as you try to rack your brain for any possible solution to the situation. The only thing you can come up with is complaining. Your staff had already done their best to lessen the damages. Now all you need is someone to dump your frustrations on so that you can feel somewhat productive and needed.

Also being head chef means showcasing the type of qualities that a leader should have so you need to come up with something to do in order to make sure that your employees don't think any less of you. Going to the municipality's building seems like the best option.

It would allow your subordinates to see your dedication to work but also allow you to complain to your heart's content. This means feeding other's expectations of you all while feeding your own ego. Two birds, one stone.

You're in the middle of typing away furiously, when Ada steps into your room, leaning against the door frame.

"By the way I thought about keeping this to myself at first but then I thought, you know what I should treat my friends the way I want them to treat me so here we go...", she starts.

"I'vechosentopursuethisthingthat'sgoingonbetweenmeandJimin,"she blurts it out and still you manage to catch everything.

That's how focused your mind was even if you are busy typing back a response to Joe, it's still on high alert.

"Uh, hellooo? Did you hear what I just said"

“Ahh uhh, got it. Capiche. Good luck”

"That's all?"

"I mean can I talk you out of it and bring up past sad memories?"

" Well, no... I would rather you not"

"Then i repeat, good luck," you take a break from your phone screen to look at her, "I really hope it works out for you this time around. They say third time's a charm, right?"

"Yeah they do....hopefully it's true for us"

It's quite rare for someone as cold as Ada to openly share her doubts when it comes to private matters. You have had to battle her in the past to get her to tell you what exactly happened between her and Jimin. You get up and walk up to her. Black hair strands tickle your shoulder before you can engulf her entire body in a big comforting hug.

"I'm just really scared."

"Take it as a good sign. You like him. At least you know you're not only halfway into it like the time you tried to date Louis just to make Jimin jealous."

You try your best to sound comforting and play the best friend part. It crossed your mind to be more harsh with her about her decision, but you decided against it. Just because you may personally have a hard time dealing with romantic matters doesn't mean you need to project that onto her.

She is going through a rough patch as it is. You make a mental note to message Jimin about the matter. Ada may not want you to talk about it with him, but still you will, not as Ada's best friend but as his.

Ada steps back from the hug and blinks hastily. "Anyways, why did you look so irritated?”

"There's some problem with the bakery's inventory so I need to go the municipality to complain," you explain.

"Just to complain?"

"I mean yeah, but also deal with the logistics of it all you know," you cough out the answer.

"Uh huh, I see. Just don't cause too much trouble or make a scene. I don't want to have to defend you in court knowing you're in the wrong."

"Yes Ma'm. I'll try," you retort mumbling the last statement.

"Alright, then we're all good. Also I ordered pizza it should be here in 20 so you can come out then."

You vigorously nod your head.

Nice fit. Head full of a mix of good arguments and well camouflaged arguments made to sound good when truthfully they are quite groundless. Throat cleared. Chin up. Power pose on. You felt like you could rule the world. Well, maybe the world is too much of an ambitious thought. You want to feel powerful but remain humble, so let's settle for Warringham. Yes, you feel like you could rule Warringham. Anyways, that not really the point. The point is:

You are ready to make a scene.

This better work. You did not get dolled up and decide to swap your sneakers for some heeled boots in order to be ignored and left high and dry. For once, you hoped that you could use humans' blatant incline for vanity and love of beautiful looking to your disposal. Your contouring better make sure you can make up for the mess that the municipality created.

You strut as gracefully as possible. The automatic doors slide open in front of you and you panic slightly at the sudden gush of air that hits your face. Your hairstyle better not get ruined. The reception is overseen by some poor intern that's looking to curb her boredom by playing with her nails or trying to figure out the different ways she could scratch her different body parts without people taking notice.

You can't help but feel like a blessing. You are about to liven up this kid's work place. The kid had exactly thirty-five seconds left of boredom. That's how long you think it will take to walk to the reception desk in the most gracious yet intimidating manner possible. The countdown starts as you take your first step.

K'duh. K'duh. K'duh. K'duh. K'duh.

You arrive at the desk, feeling even more excited. The intern's eyes are still wandering around. Yes, you feel like a superhero that could defeat all of the world's injustices but you are pretty sure invisibility isn't one of your strengths. You clear your throat.

The intern lifts her blue eyes to look at me. Eyeballs bulging out of their skull. What a way to feign interest.

"How could I help you ma'am?"

To be quite honest, you were feeling a bit sorry to have to put the intern through a scene. She probably didn't know how to deal with such situations. Or, you could just be getting cold feet. Things always sound better in theory, in your head, where they should be left.

"Uhm, yes...," you shuffle through your handbag to find your documents.

Actually, Ada's handbag. What?! You needed to match with your dolled up cover. Once you find them, you squint your eyes in hopes of catching the name on the name plate attached to her blazer.

"Yes, Vera. I'm looking to talk with the person in charge of the economics department here. Or maybe just management"

You were thinking about what sort scene to pull. On a scale from Becky to Susan how petty did you really feel being.

"I'm sorry but the concerned person is currently not in right now."

You take a long look at Vera. Is she really going to pull that move on you just because she is too lazy to go look for the person?

"Can you then check if there's someone else I could talk to?" you sneer.

"Well I would need to know what the errand is about exactly," she continues to use her service voice.

"I'm am the head baker at the municipality owned bakery, you know the one in the town centre. My orders were messed up and I need to talk to someone in charge to know how I am supposed to deal with the consequences. You know do the things that people in charge of businesses do."

"I would really love to help you ma'am, but the person in charge of economics has yet to arrive. I do not know who it is as they are starting today."

Ok, so maybe Vera was annoying but she didn't look like a liar. It must be a sign not even the world wants you to go ham with your complaints.

"Y/N?"

Who do you know that works for the municipality? You turn around to realise that it's in fact no one because you don't know the person standing in front of you. Not personally at least. But oh my my my. You wish you could get to know him physically. Que? What is wrong with you Y/N, get a grip on yourself. He may not appease your mind or your feelings, but your eyes are heaving a feast at the very moment.

"Oh hi Taehyung, fancy seeing you here?!"

'Fancy seeing you here', really!? Just because you're dolled up and everything doesn't mean you are on the same level of fancy that his city self is. Once, again get a grip Y/N.

"I would say the same but unless you work here people usually only come in if they are having problems," he says as he walks closer to you. Against your better judgement you walk closer as well.

You're facing each other, standing right in front of the reception desk. In your periphery, you can see the shift of a body. Vera must be intrigued for some reason.

"Well you hit the nail on the head. I was trying to have Vera here help me, but she says she can't," you say as you point to your left.

"It's actually they, ma'am not she," she retorts and you bite your bottom lip. Why in the heck does she keep calling you ma'am.

Taehyung turns to her, "Anytime she's here and she needs help you can just call my office phone," he says and you don't know why all of a sudden his hotness points soar through the roof as if he had collected enough coins to get a power star just like in Mario Bros. You may have a thing for people with saviour complex you realise.

"Of course, Mr...," Vera probes with a wide smile and fascinated eyes.

"Kim. Kim Taehyung"

Kim Taehyung. You mumble his name. It has a nice ring to it, you can't lie.

"Oh and I don't know what the occasion is but you look really nice," he says and you reprimand yourself for how good his statement makes you feel. Who are you? You do not need validation from anyone. No, you don't. However, deep down you know that a little appreciation, even from someone you say you don't like, goes a long way.

"Oh this...," you point at yourself, "pfft, nothing much just felt like getting dolled up." Oooh, what a big fat liar you are. And yet, you have the audacity to criticise Ada.

He nods his head at you and gives you a thumbs up. There you go again making things awkward. You can already imagine the sort of things he will tell Jimin about you and none of them are positive.

"You look good too...," your voice wanders.

You could have easily added to your statement, because unlike his, it wasn't a lie. You could hate him, which you don't. You could find him uncomfortable, which you do. But you couldn't lie about his fortune in the visual department.

Taehyung is suited up, or at least he was when he got into the building. Now, he's wearing a crisp white button down that's slightly rolled up at the wrists to showcase his watch. It resembled one of those watches you see on Antiques Road Trip. He must gotten it from his great great grandfather or something along those lines.

While you were at Punniton there hadn't been a chance for you to take a good look at Taehyung given the pile of winter clothing he had on him. So, you allow your eyes to roam lower to where his shirt is tucked inside well ironed light brown slacks.

Well ironed. Finally something non-Jimin related that you like about Taehyung. There are very few men your age that you have encountered that wear properly ironed clothes so you consider it one of the highest signs of self care. Your eyes have a mind of their own. They fixate on the movement of his hands as he moves to adjust his watch.

"What is the problem anyways?" He asks and you shoot your head back up. He didn't catch that, did he?

"Ohh I work at the bakery. I sent in the papers to stock up on inventory since it's owned by the municipality. But apparently someone from management lost the papers for the sugar inventory and now the bakery is out of sugar. I'm just here to complain about the fact that I'll need to increase the prices which will mean less bread sold and lower wages and smaller bonuses. I just find it really disrespectful given how hard we all work for the bakery and how long we've stayed while knowing we can get a better pay elsewhere just by doing half of the work"

"Huh, huh," Taehyung attempts to sound supportive.

"The situation just annoys me, A bunch of well-off people thinking that a more than a month long delay won't affect much. Like damn I have to pay rent, utilities and ten employees as well as myself," you continue your rant.

Look on the bright side, you got to vent a bit. Not that you thought Taehyung would be the one on the receiving side. You are feeling slightly better, and like your entire mission didn't completely fail. It simply took an unwanted detour. Time to get out of your head. Taehyung's fingers caress his knuckles before they go through his hair. Is he nervous?

"Wow that sounds awful, i'm sorry that happened to you," he says as he reaches into one of his pockets. That sounded... weird or even fake. But then again you couldn't expect him to understand the struggle some people face in life. His past big city life must have been so luxurious even problems took care of themselves.

"If you need any help all you need to do is ask. Any friend of Jimin's is a friend of mine."

He brings his phone out and points at it. "Duty calls. I'll see you some other time Y/N." He walks away typing furiously. Now that was also... weird. Another thing to add to the list of pros and cons you had made for Taehyung.

Pros: Jimin's friend, irons his clothes properly, weird.

Cons: annoying, big city boy, weird.

It's a tie, for now. If only you could imagine the fluctuation the future beholds. You will run out of mental space to store all of the reasons why you don't like and why you do like Kim Taehyung.

Now that he's gone, you face Vera again. Did you want to cuss her out and then leave, or did you want to cuss her, make another petty comment about appropriate workplace behaviour and then leave? You settle for neither. You already got to vent so you don't think you have it in you to go the extra mile. So you turn to your left and leave, never to return again, you hope.

The slowness at which you are going is flagrant. You removed your boots by the entrance to be met by such swollen feet you feel embarrassed for yourself. They aren't even that high neither are they too tight. You attempt to walk all the way past the kitchen and through the hallway that leads to your room but you give up less than halfway through. The couch will have to do for now.

You scroll through your social media and come across an announcement post from Jimin's account and you're reminded of his show. It premieres in four days and you remember him saying that he will leave tomorrow. God, you're so caught up in your own shit, you completely forgot about him.

[14:20] hey, what time are you catching the train tomorrow again?

[14:25] minnie 💜13:45. Trying to see when to schedule in a crying session before?

[14:27] Ha.ha.ha. You’re not that special and you already left once. I am immune now.

[14:28] minnie 💜Ooff, ouch. I am strong but I’m not made of stone y/n. That hurt 😢

[14:30] I would argue otherwise. Which is great since it brings me to the very important and touch topic we need to  discuss

[14:32] minnie 💜Y/N. I heard it the first time. I am NOT going to hurt her.

[14:35] You don’t know that. She is more invested than you may think. I don’t think she can take a third fall out. So I will need you try your best, can you promise that?

[14:36] minnie 💜Promise. I’ll be honest with her tonight.

[14:36] Thank you 😌

Jimin really wishes he could tell Y/N why he is so cautious about completely confessing to Ada. It has nothing to do with him being insecure about his feelings. It is more so a matter of protecting Y/N  because he knows how Ada would react in such a scenario. Maybe one day, when Y/N is ready, he will be able to let her know.

[14:38] minnie 💜speaking of Ada she told me about your sugar issue, what’s going on? ps I’m also hurt that I need to get your life updates from someone else 😣

[14:40] Hmm yeah srry about that, i’ve been a bit out of it 😬,I went to the municipality building to find someone I could complain to but there wasn’t anyone there

[14:41] minnie 💜you will hate me for suggesting this but you should ask Tae for help

[14:42] Hmmm 🤔….

[14:42] Nope

[14:42] Non

[14:43] Nein 👎

[14:43] I am not trying to be indebted to someone i don’t plan on keeping in my life

[14:45] minnie 💜Ohh come on you wouldn’t be indebted, just think of it as him doing me a favor (cuz he owes me a couple) except it has nothing to with me

[14:46] minnie I really appreciate you looking out for me, but I got this 😚

[14:46] minnie 💜https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/kim_taehyung

[14:47] minnie 💜I’m just saying he’s got connections 🤷‍♂️

You click on the link. A freaking Wikipedia page?! The page isn’t ridiculous long but still, the fact that he has one. Your eyes shift to read his profile. There’s a picture of him, one worthy of a couple of screenshot you were not going to take, except he has blonde hair and you can’t help but think that you prefer his current hair color.

Kim Tae-hyung (age 24) Other names: Earl Kim Taehyung, Count Kim Taehyung Occupation: Economist Awards: Uffington’s Novice Photographer 2019 Taehyung is not just Jimin’s city friend. He is a count. An earl. An aristocrat amongst Warringham peasants. [14:53] Wow I see that you have upgraded huh, what are your intentions for the future that you felt the need to become friends with a nobleman 🤨

[14:55] minnie 💜actually he approached me, he went to one of my shows with his fam and then came to compliment me backstage and asked if i wanted to go for a drink

[14:57] and you thought ‘you know what, going out for a drink with a stranger is totally responsible’ [14:59] minnie 💜 i didn’t go alone i went with the team, i’m nice not stupid 😤

[15.00] minnie 💜but my point still stands, you wouldn’t be losing anything by asking him

Should you tell Jimin that Taehyung has already offered to help or would that just encourage him to keep pushing? You decide against telling him.

[15:01] i’ll think about it

[15:01] minnie 💜 that’s y/n code for: thanks but no thank you

[15:02] i mean it, i’ll actually let the thought simmer in my mind and see if i like the result

[15:03] minnie 💜smh

[15:03] minnie 💜 i’m going to need to leave u, someone else is here to keep me company 😏

[15:04] ewww, u nasty, byeeee

[15:05] minnie 💜byeeee, and like for real think about it 😙

Tomorrow is now today. Jimin is sadly going away. You are that deep in your feelings that you feel the need to recite a corny ‘poetic’ rhyme. You are standing near the edge of the railway platform. Taehyung is standing somewhere behind you. The both of you waiting for Ada and Jimin to rap up their sob fest or more accurately Ada’s sob fest. It takes a minute.

Once they are ready they find their way to you. You form a disproportionate human circle where Jimin and Ada are glued to each other’s side while you are closer to Ada and Taehyung’s closer to Jimin.

“Hey Y/N, can I talk to you real quick.” Jimin motions for you to come to his side as he increases the distance between you and the rest.

Is he going to have individual talks with all three of us?

“So, what’s up?” you ask. The quicker you’re with this the less time you get to feel emotional.

“I’ll keep my promise if, and only if you keep yours,” he says as he places his pinky in front of your face. You grab onto it with your palm.

“I don’t remember promising anything.” He signals to Taehyung with a head nod. Oh, you see what this is about.

”You know it’s okay to admit you need help, right? You don’t need to have all the answers yourself.”

It may be true that you do not have all the answers, but you do have the ones that you need and the ones that mean something to you. But you can’t tell Jimin that so you sigh as you bite your top lip.

Jimin reaches into his back pocket. “I’ve had this now for a while and I think it has done its job. I believe you need it more than me right now.”

Onto your palm a small metal circle is placed. Teddy the penny. You can’t help chuckling. It had in fact been a while since you had seen the rusty fake penny with a teddy bear engraving. The penny that brought you and Jimin together back in elementary school when you still thought your teddy bear was the bestest friend you could possibly have. It listened to you and it understood and it comforted you, softly, all night. Most importantly, unlike Jimin, it never questioned you.

Your teacher had made fake pennies for the class to give as rewards. You and Jimin had a joint place in your drawing competition and coincidentally you both wanted the only teddy bear penny available. The teacher placed the two pennies in the palms of her hands, and told you to close your eyes. Her hands shifted from side to side, above and around one another. When you opened your eyes, you were made to chose and ended up with a butterfly penny instead.

All you can remember is moist cheeks, hurt cries and resentment. All of which went away when Jimin put the then warm penny on your small clammy hand, “You look like you need it more. Don’t be sad. Teddy doesn’t want things to be sad he wants them to be funny.”

From then on you exchanged Teddy the Penny, the one who needs it the most gets it. You had given it to him when he left to pursue his dreams.

“Honestly it’s not that big of a deal,” you dismiss his worry, “it’s definitely not a teddy the penny worthy situation,” you clarify.

“You know I am not gonna fight you right before leaving. You and I both know that the bakery is the only thing you actually care about. So yes, you care more than you show.”

“I also care about you and Ada too,” you retort and it’s the first time in the last three years that that you get to have Jimin’s questioning and disappointing expression directed at you.

“If you’re going to keep playing like this I might as well join and not keep my promise.”

FUCK!

Ok, so now your plan to avoid talking to Taehyung just wouldn’t be doable. You could deal with hurting yourself but hurting others? No. That’s where you draw the line. You are really going to have to talk to him.

“Fine,” you mumble out.

“Uh?”

“I said fine.”

Jimin pulls you into a hug. “Look at you, this is progress and thank you, that means I can keep my promise.” He hugs you tighter and your jaw tenses as you attempt to make sure he doesn’t squeeze out all of the tears that you plan on shedding when you get back home.

“I’ll miss you so much. Please take care of Ada.” He lets you go but keeps holding your hands. “And let her take care of you too. Okay?”

“Uh hmm,” you nod your head at the fastest speed you can manage. Partially because you do want to reassure him but also you need to dry the incoming tears.

Jimin continues to caress your shoulder as you walk back to meet the others. You try to keep your head up as to not raise any suspicion but realise your failure when you meet Taehyung’s eyes. He gives you a reassuring smile and winks at you. The last part does register properly in your head but you act like you didn't see it.

The train tracks sound. It’s almost here.

“I’m so glad I decided to come back. Take care guys, I’ll try to get back as fast as possible,” he says as he goes on to squeeze Ada’s hand and hug Taehyung.

The train comes to a stop and the gushing sound of air that comes from the opening doors resonates against your eardrums and you’re brought back to the first time he left. You were just as hurt back then as you are now. The only difference is that you felt hope where you feel despair today. Why? You don’t really know. Things tend to be felt before you get the time to register what those feelings mean.

Jimin steps into the train and sits by a window seat facing your side of the platform. The whole minute before he’s taken away with the train unravels itself in slow motion. It goes by so fast, you realize you forgot to wave goodbye. Nevertheless, you raise your hand to wave it frantically. Maybe he saw it?

Taehyung clears his throat. “I gotta hurry back to work. But hopefully I can see you guys around.”

Right, Taehyung and Ada still had work. You had given yourself a leave from work for the remaining of the day.

“Alright, sounds good, we can catch up some other time,” Ada says with a cheerful voice. You're surprised by how well she's taking this.

She moves to link arms with you. The same arm that she pinches.

“See you around Taehyung,” you manage to say. He looks at you a little too long for your liking before he turns away to walk away.

Your phone buzzes and you reach for it.

[13:45] minnie 💜here’s his number by the way: *********

[13:45] minnie 💜also I saw that 🙋‍♀️🤞

The outlines of your hands holding your phone blurs before you can feel wet drops on your forearms. Ada brings your body tight against hers as she pats your back.

You now realize how happy you felt having all three of you in the same place despite all the problems at work and Taehyung. You had really thought that the sweet imagery would manage to stay alive a bit longer than what it did.

But good things tend to be ephemeral, just like the first snow that melts to reveal old ways.

Posted: May 15, 2020

[kousagi7hikari]

Name: Dannin

Species: Genie

Do they exist in a story?

He lives with my other boys, but a while back I wrote a story where Danny (of Phantom) found his bottle in his attic. Shenanigans ensued. Some parts of that story are still canon to Dannin’s situation.

What inspired them?

He was the first of the “Danny Phantom but other stuff” series. He originally was just Danny as a genie. He developed his own personality after a while.

How did you name them?

Honestly? Danny+Djinn=Dannin. Not my best work

Any big changes between first making them and now?

Mostly the actually BEING Danny as a genie into being a Danny-shaped genie

What’s the best thing about them?

He’s a sweetie and one of my first long-lasting OCs, so he has a special place in my heart

What’s the worst thing about them?

He’s kind of an airhead/oblivious. Not so much a himbo though, but he’s definitely on the good boy/dumb part of the chart.

What part of yourself is in them?

Honestly? My love of the movie Aladdin. It doesn’t have to be that deep

Do they have any hobbies?

He’s learned how to figure skate recently, but what he’s really good at is dancing! Any kind of dancing, as long as he’s moving his body, it’s good!

What’s their backstory?

Dannin is a freed genie, but before that, he was a human! He found a genie himself and accidentally misspoke and wished himself into a genie. He’s forgotten that in the time he’s been a genie. He’s had a lot of good masters, one of which was a girl who wanted to marry the prince of her home. Dannin offered to infiltrate the palace to see what the prince was really like for her. He disguised himself as a dancer and the prince brought him back to his chambers. It became very obvious very fast that the prince was INTO Dannin and he panicked, disappearing into purple smoke (like purple nightcrawler. BAMF) and let his master know that things might not work out between her and the prince.

Do they have any friends?

Dannin is VERY friendly, so he's got a lot of friends, though he’s closest with Gate’, another of my OCs

Significant Other? Crush?

Sora! As a bonus piece of trivia, both of them are asexual, but not aromantic.

What kind of powers do they have, if any?

Dannin still has access to “Phenomenal cosmic powers”, so he can do whatever he wants. He also does a lot with purple stars made of energy, throwing them at a foe, making a shield, stuff like that.

Any family?

Not that he can remember

What foods do they like? 

Dannin likes spicy food and other flavorful food, though his favorite is curry. When he BAMFs, it smells faintly of curry

Do they engage in combat? What do they use to fight?

Yes. He usually uses his purple energy star… powers? And dance fighting.

Do they speak other languages?

He can magically learn any language and speak it. I’m sure he used to know another language before he became a genie

Do they have a Nick-name or an alias?

His “full name” is Dannin Gene. His name when he was human was Nanda.

How do they get around?

Flight or teleportation. He poofs into purple smoke that smells faintly of curry.

Can they cook?

Yes! He can magic up food, but he can actually make a few dishes too.

Who is someone from their past?

The genie he found, who I wrote a ficlet about but I guess I never named! He found Dannin after years of searching for him and Dannin freed him, since he still had one wish left.

Art by myself and @fangirltothefullest​