#change combo spin
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been thinking recently about how i play games (in general but also a bit on the competitive side on some)
turns out i don't particularly care about winning, i just want to have fun, but obviously i do like winning i just try to do win by doing very stupid stuff
it's way more fun for everyone involved when you do things against the meta or common sense and end up winning anyways bc it's so weird that it takes others by surprise
#i like doing dumb things that only work bc they're dumb#so everyone just falls for it#hehe yes run into my very telegraphed move boy#also why i enjoy low tiers more so than top tiers in most cases#bc they're often not super explored so people aren't used to playing against them#so they have no idea what to expect from someone that takes weird ass characters seriously#maybe i should get back into mk8dx#and use a stupid combo like max speed or something#bc you can win with that if you know how to go about bagging#can't frontrun tho#i'll think about it#i just kinda quit that game bc it's just. so dumb it's such a bad game. sort of in a way#it's good it's just oddly designed. it's at least pretty well balanced all things considered#but i hate it bc of how you have to play the game if you wanna compete at higher level#same with smash ult kinda. i hate Hate how high level ult is played. it's so fucking slow and defensive bullshit#but there's some fun to be had in it if you do dumb stuff as i said#or if you have a character like ness that presses a bunch of buttons so you're always doing something#i like pressing a bunch of buttons :3#it's so much better than just standing there waiting for the other guy to do something like sonic waiting to spin dash or#steve mining with a wall between you#or g&w doing stupid things in general this bitch has too much air movility#also fuck mario (sometimes) he's such a fast character you can't do anything unless you have fast options or are patient enough to wait for#an opening. but fuck that i don't wanna wait around#i wanna run straight at you and hit you#before anyone says to play melee or pm. no#sorry it's a bad game too just in different ways. not bad bad but yknow#meteor cancel. shields that reflect projectiles. like 15 characters you can use if you're good enough otherwise you have like 5 you can use#out of the 26 in the game (not counting wireframes or giga bowser)#tho melee definitely has some better mechanics like wavedashing and run speed carrying over from jumps (not really a mechanic tho#since it can be changed on each character individually)
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You can only wear the two randomly assigned colors* for the rest of your life, ( trying to wear any other colors the items will change to one of the two other colors) how do you feel?
*Different tones/shades of the randomly chosen colors are allowed. Pastel, neon, etc. will also fall under the base color and are therefore allowed.
Spin the wheel to find out which colors you must wear
#tumblr polls#pickerwheel#polls#colors#random polls#tumblr poll#my polls#poll time#picker wheel#picker wheel poll#fun polls#fashion#wardrobe
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Personal but…
I would just… really like to request to the universe to give me some answers on my bloodwork. Like… I’m already grieving the possible diagnoses I was told, just confirm it or something else, please. Cuz it’s a difference between medication for a bit of time or a chronic condition and I gotta know which to grapple with… and with no answer I am struggling with both/all options right now LMAO
#spins the Differently Abled wheel#what we got going on here is it the hereditary problem i DIDNT KNOW ABOUT UNTIL A WEEK AGO?#or is it a poorly understood and chronic heart condition (non-lethal!) that’ll forever change my life?#or is it door number three with the possibility for diabetes?!#WHO FUCKIN KNOWS! NOT ME RIGHT NOW!! lmao#anyway its prob a combo and im like… ughhhhhh lmao#its… certainly a time
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Swimming Lesson (A Precious One Shot)
Pairing: Adult Ao'nung x Hyperfeminine human reader
Summary: Ao'nung is more than eager to teach you how to swim. He doesn't, however, anticipate what it leads to.
Warnings: aged up characters, explicit sexual content MDNI, reader has mild fear of water, interspecies relationship, established relationship, swearing, possessive beahvior, brief mention of violence, past bad relationship, insecurity, marking, scenting, dom/sub dynamics, etc.
A/N: I've been overthinkg this one for way too long. Here's how it turned out
Precious Masterlist
Adult Ao'nung photo by Cinetrix
Tawtute modesty is a perplexing concept. Most Sky People dress in a way that covers their body, even going as far as creating cubbies in their metal homes where they can change these clothes without others seeing. For a species that appears to have just as much sexual drive as Na’vi do, they certainly waste a lot of time and effort acting ashamed of their bodies.
Although your clothing is far more appealing, and even revealing at times, you too act very shy about being exposed.
And yet, it appears that this cultural norm is thrown out the window when it comes to swimming attire. Calling an outfit a swimsuit as you do, suddenly gives a tawtute a free pass to discard ninety five percent of their clothing and prance around without care.
No one had informed Ao’nung of this however so when you walk out in your handmade swimsuit for the first time, it takes him a moment to connect his mouth to his brain again. You give a little twirl as you always do, before rambling on about what material it’s made of and how easy or difficult it was to construct.
And as usual, Ao’nung takes his time admiring your latest work with greedy hands that always come out to grip your hips and spin you from side to side. This is a common routine for the two of you. It is customary for him to see your latest projects first so you can receive his opinion. Although both of you know he offers nothing close to helpful feedback. The real joy from this arrangement comes from him opening ogling you in the pretty clothes until you sufficiently feel confident in your genius.
You never stop him when he gets handsy either. Although that pretty blush often spreads from your cheeks to collarbones and you giggle at his lack of restraint, he knows you enjoy the obvious display of carnal desire. It’s a win-win scenario.
And today, stars above, there is so much for him to look at. Or rather, so little fabric to cover your form because this swimsuit as you call it is tiny. In many ways it feels a lot closer to the usual attire of females in his clan with intricate straps and only a tiny top and bottom to shield some of his favorite parts. In fact, this set is much like your bra and panties combo.
When he squeezes your hips and turns you to the side, he is more than ecstatic to find that this duo is actually more revealing than most of your undergarments. Is this truly considered decent in tawtute culture? Oh well, he knows better than to question when something good comes his way. Whatever reasoning sky people have come up with to justify these tiny outfits, he is grateful for.
The bottoms are held together by strings that tie at each hip similar to the ties on your upper back that keep the small chest piece in place. You’ve chosen fabrics of light blue for the base and cream for the trim that is of course bunched into frilly fashion. It wouldn’t be yours without some extra flare. The front of the bottoms cover decently but the back draws a shape higher onto the hips that leaves more than half of your gorgeous ass spilling out.
And it’s not the only thing to spill. The bottom sit low on your hips so that the front is tucked just beneath that adorable pooch of a stomach that Ao’nung is constantly tempted to bite into. Even the ties on the hips just barely press lines into your plush flesh that you call love handles. And to top it off, there is a tiny bow between your breasts and a matching one just atop your vulva.
Eywa above, if he knew teaching you to swim would put you in an outfit like this he would have fought even harder to make this day come sooner.
“Do you like it?” You ask, cheeks pink but eyes telling him that you already know the answer to your own question.
“What did you call this?” He asks, sweeping your long hair over one shoulder to admire the curve of your spine.
“A bikini.”
“Oeyӓ tawtute, I more than like it.” His lips gently press over a mark he had sucked into your skin last week, just above your shoulder blade. With twiddling fingers and a smile he can practically feel radiating even from behind you, goosebumps rise over your exposed flesh. “I don’t know what stops you from wearing this bikini thing more often.”
You snort and playfulling try to elbow him in the ribs. “You horny meathead.” With a giggle you turn around to scrunch your nose up at him which he has come to recognize as a chiding expression.
He’s not sure what is so funny about his comment. You may be giggling but he sees no reason why you couldn’t wear this during day to day life on the island. Although, he wouldn’t want to miss out on your strange dresses either.
“You know I can’t do that.”
He doesn’t but Ao’nung lets it drop when your small hand intertwines with his own and you practically begin skipping towards the beach. It seems this successful outfit has put you in a good mood, so it’s best to hold his breath and pray that it will remain that way once you get to the water. It has taken a couple weeks of convincing, borderline demanding, that you learn to swim.
Today you don’t show the usual signs of apprehension so Ao’nung plays along carefully, treading as light as a hunter worried about spooking their prey.
The good luck has passed. Whatever giddiness you felt from showing off your new bikini dissipated ten minutes ago when you two had finally reached the shore. Now you remain perched on the rock wall that extends a way into the shallows, watching with a nervous smile where Ao’nung stands in the water.
“You are stalling.” He accuses.
“I’m not.” You protest, bottom lip becoming snatched between your teeth. “I just think I need to observe you some more before I get in. After all, nothing’s better than watching the master.”
You catch on fast, that’s for sure. In the short few weeks the two of you have been together it seems that you’ve already devoted yourself to figuring out how to charm him and target certain weak spots. Try as you might, however, that isn’t going to work today.
“Get in.”
Your arms wrap around your own torso, a nervous habit of yours. He isn’t being mean, isn’t even raising his voice in the way some of his own teachers did when he was younger but it takes very little to intimidate a small tawtute like you. It’s important that he maintains some form of strict authority in these lessons, otherwise you will walk all over him.
It will never cease to perplex him how carelessly humans treat learning to swim. He thought the most horrific part of it would have been their form alone, something that had made his jaw drop the first time he saw Spider swim, but unfortunately it goes far beyond that. Among the seaside clans it is customary to have newborn children already learning how to kick to the surface on their own. Children know how to swim far before they can take their first steps. From what he’s heard, even the Omatikaya teach their children from a young age. And yet, Ao’nung was horrified to hear you say that some humans don’t learn how to swim until they are adults, some even die without learning.
He won’t let that be your fate. So no matter what it takes, he is getting you in the water today.
“You are being a bad numeyu [student], precious.” He warns, clicking his tongue in feigned disappointment. Just as he expected, your shoulders drop slightly. No doubt if you had a tail it would be tucking between your legs right now. Such little praise to have you melting and such little criticism to have you proving you can do better.
“We can start tomorrow I prom-AH!” Whatever promise you had hoped to placate him with turns into a squeal when Ao’nung heaves himself up onto the rock wall in one fluid motion. Immediately you start running back towards the beach. You know just as well as him that he can and will hunt you down to drag you back since it has come to that.
There is a part of him that awakens at the first sign of a chase. It’s the same part of his nature that has him imagining all the ways he could rip those scraps of fabric you call a bikini off and ruin you for any other man. It doesn’t help his focus to have your squishy ass bouncing further out of your bottoms as you sprint.
Regardless, the hardest part about catching you has nothing to do with the skills he has learned as a hunter and everything to do with keeping his carnal desires at bay. You would be all too happy to let take a session of his head between your pretty legs over a swimming lesson.
He has one thick arm wrapped around your waist within your first five steps. You waste no time in starting your pleas to be released, shorter legs kicking in the air as he tucks you against his chest.
“Wait! Ao’nung, I can’t! Not today. Put me down!”
“You can not learn without getting in the water.” He says simply.
“No no! I can’t! I can’t!” Once again your words turn to shrieks when he swiftly jumps back into the ocean, softly landing his feet in the substrate. The waves only reach his hips at this height and with you in his arms you are nowhere near having your head dunked under.
Nevertheless your efforts to cry for mercy quickly shift into clawing your way up his body. You squirm and wiggle and manage to twist halfway towards him so that you can grab his shoulders and try to get higher. You climb him like one does a tree, but with far less grace than anyone who has experience climbing to get the fruit.
“What are you doing?” With furrowed brows it takes everything in him not to laugh, only grunting softly when your feet get dangerously close to keeping him between the legs.
“Okay I think that’s enough for today. Bring us back up!”
“It is fine. Nothing is going to happen.” He assures, using his other hand to steer your feet away from his tewng [loincloth]. Ao’nung tries not to think about how good it feels when your legs wrap around his torso instead.
“Easy for you to say! You’re like ten feet tall and can hold your breath for an eternity.” The tide is not strong today, just as he planned, but even the small waves billowing against his waist seem to put you on edge.
This is why you teach children to swim early on. They have no notion of fear.
He is caught between two conflicting temptations. Laughing his ass off at your antics and chucking you into the deep end much like they do for Metkayina babies. However, both won’t have the desired result in the end. And Ao’nung tries to remember too how different you are from the Metkayina. They are born with life saving instincts while from what he has seen from humans, has been nothing but concerning regarding their instincts. There is no telling if you will resurface if he lets you go under now.
Growing up his teachers had always been strict; unforgiving. He knew the importance of learning skills swiftly so as not to become a burden for the clan, and even more so surpassing expectations as he would someday be Olo’eyktan. A tough regiment had worked for him but you…
You are soft. And it’s one of his favorite qualities you possess, both physically and emotionally, but this also means that using that strict attitude to the same degree would more likely have you giving up and locking him out of your room more than making any real progress. No, while a firm hand is necessary with you at times, it’s evident that praise draws so much more out of you than negative repercussions.
Ao’nung had thought you particularly inept when it came to climbing but he is surprised to find that you’ve scooted your way significantly up his torso and now have your blunt nails dig into his shoulder blades. Oh how he wishes they were dug in there for the same reason they were last night as he fingered your demon pussy open.
“Oeyӓ tsyeym [my treasure], do you think I would let you drown?”
“Well no but-”
“Is there anyone that knows these waters better than me? Anyone further capable when it comes to moving through the sea?”
“No.” You mumble against his shoulder.
“So since you are here with me, an expert, and we’ve already established I will not let you drown then does that not mean you are the safest person, both human and Na’vi, in the ocean today?” He tucks a curve finger beneath your chin so you are forced to meet his expression, his brows raised in question.
His logic is difficult to deny although there is still some hesitancy in your movements when you nod. But he’ll take it.
“And as your karyu [teacher] who is experienced in these ways should you not be trusting my methods?”
“Ao’nung-”
“No?”
Those pink lips form into what is surely meant to be a scowl but instead looks like nothing more than a pout to him. You know he’s right. How could you claim otherwise? But you stubbornly want to hold onto this fear.
“Yes, I suppose.” You say in a voice so small that Ao’nung’s ears have to perch forward to properly catch it.
“Good girl.” He grins, pecking you on the cheek before you can think up another excuse. “Let us begin.”
“Mawey, paskalin [be calm, honey]. You are too tense.” He purrs, hands supporting the curve of your back as you attempt to float atop the water. It’s a form not typical for the Metkayina but considering your small lungs he has deemed it essential for taking breaks in the water. However you are stiff as a board.
“I’m just trying not to sink.” You squirm until back on your feet and latched to his side. Perhaps you worry the tide will be strong enough to pull you out.
“The harder you try the more you will sink. Diving is not meant to be a struggle won. You must move with the water, do not fight against the sea.” For you to truly understand what he means you would have to actually try submerging beneath the waves. He had insisted that you learn without your mask, after all there is no guarantee you would be with it at all times, but it seems this crutch is one you are attached to and therefore refuse to go beneath the water without.
It is no issue. Ao’nung would rather teach you to dive the proper way slowly than have you relying on this crutch indefinitely.
“But you said that the sea is unforgiving. That it is a powerful force that does not discriminate when choosing prey.” Wet hair sticks to your cheeks as you look up at him. Ao’nung screws his lips and places a hand on his hip. You know how to pack a lot of trouble for someone half of his size.
“Hm, you love to twist my words, precious.” He teases, one hand snatching your hip to tug you in closer. He steadies your weak form when you stumble at the action.
“I-I’m not twisting it but this doesn’t make any sense. What am I supposed to do if a wave pulls me out from shore? I’ve heard even some Na’vi can not kick their way back in and so if they can’t neither can I. Not with these weak tawtute legs. And that’s not to mention the sea creatures. To some of them I’m not even a full bite!”
“None this close to shore are big enough to bite.” He cocks his head to the side. “Only some that could sting.”
“Ao’nung!” you screech hitting a hand against his chest. “I’m being serious. How am I ever going to be strong enough to do anything out here? It’s a hopeless cause which I knew but then again when do I ever really listen to-”
“You have forgotten to breathe.” And sure enough you pause for a second to take in his words before finally inhaling a shaky breath. When you get into rambles like this it’s common for you to fly off without any end in sight. Some days they are born out of nerves while others it's in excitement as you explain your favorite romantic movie in detail to him for thirty minutes. How did you survive such rambles before him? Who else was there to remind you the importance of oxygen?
“You think too much, paskalin.” Your pout only deepens but you lean against him. “I said I will teach you to swim and so I will. The rest is not for you to worry about.” Your hair tickles his lower abs when your head rests against him. He hears you inhale, preparing himself for more weak protests, but then you stop.
Your attention is snatched off to his far left where there is some splashing. He follows your gaze to find it fixated on one of the newests Ilu’s in deeper waters. This juvenile can only be a few weeks old as it is shorter than his forearm and remains in close proximity to its mother.
When he spots the way your expression softens, an idea sprouts. Ao’nung has been taking the wrong angle this entire time. It was only last week that he discovered how empathetic you are for animals, especially ones that have not reached adulthood. You had gone from constantly cooing at the strange small animals in your magic screen to falling apart into blubbering tears when one of the baby hippos, as you called them, couldn’t find his mother. It took a long time of hearing your choked up voice ramble about how alone that little creature must feel. It was a strange experience. Then again, that was during your bleeding week.
“We call her An’ali and her mother Se’xte.”
“She is adorable.”
“Do you want to see her?”
“Well yes but it’s deeper out there…” You trail off, uncertainty present in your tone.
“Grab on.” He instructs before bending down onto one knee and prompting your hands to his shoulders. You’re slow to comply, those big beautiful eyes peeking up at him with a flicker of apprehension but it seems your curiosity overrides that emotion because you finally clutch his shoulder to sprawl out across his back.
He could walk out to the ilu without any struggle of touching the bottom but Ao’nung opts to swim out smoothly, keeping his head and yours above the water. Just a small step to get you used to the feeling of gliding through the water. However, his swishing tail coming to aid does get tangled with your feet every now and then causing a giggle to bubble up your throat.
Luckily this sensation appears to distract you from the way the ilu swim out further into deeper waters. Ao’nung finds himself holding his breath, praying that you don’t notice how much further the sandy bottom is now. Fortunately, just as he hoped, the cute creatures have your full attention upon reaching them.
“Wow,” You whisper in a daze, looking past his shoulder. An’ali rubs up against her mother, earning an affectionate call in return. “They are beautiful.”
“They are ilu. Peaceful creatures.” When he reaches behind him to grab one of your hands there is resistance but he continues until it is resting upon the mother’s head. Se’xte gives a curious look but does not push away your tiny hand that pets at her head. He has a strong enough bond with her to have trust extending to you as well.
“And you ride them?”
“When we are younger, yes. Once a Na’vi has come of age and undergone their iknimaya they ride Tsurak.” If you are this amazed by the ilu he can only imagine what you will think once he introduces you to a Tsurak. Once he gets you more comfortable in the ocean maybe he can convince you to let him take you for a ride. At a slow pace of course. Your soft little hands do not have an ounce of the grip strength necessary to hold on for anything faster.
“She likes you.” Ao’nung smiles as Se’xte gives a chirp. He can practically feel you beam against his ear.
“I like her too.” It only lasts for another minute or so before the ilu is ducking beneath the water, not a sufficient amount of time to get a closer look at her baby. “Where are they going?”
“Beneath. We can follow.” Your fingers dig deeper into his shoulders, your breath wavering. Ao’nung doesn’t wait for permission however. It’s best not to give you time to overthink it. “Take a deep breath, paskalin.”
He waits to hear you deep inhale before diving beneath the surface. Your right arm hooks around his neck instinctively, your legs kicking out frantically but then there are the ilu just ahead, swimming around one another in a playful circle. Not wanting to push his luck too much on the first time, he surfaces after only a few seconds. This time he sets you to stand on a rock so that your head is above the soft waves.
“Ao’nung!” You gasp, holding a hand over your heart as if it is about to go into cardiac arrest. “Are you insane?! I could have died.”
“And yet you didn’t.”
That deeply rooted frown melts even as your eyes glare daggers back at him, no doubt not appreciating the smug look he wears. “You maniac!” Your accusation is accompanied by your right hand splashing water back at him. You’re barely holding back giddy laughter as you splash at him. Say what you want, but he knows you enjoyed the rush.
Ao’nung sweeps his own right hand out to splash back but his miscalculation of strength and the difference in height turns it into a full wave that washes over your entire upper body. “Oh.” He cringes slightly, feeling just a tad bit guilty for playing so rough.
However, to his surprise it lights something in your eyes. That embering fire turns into full blown competition as you try to imitate his man made wave. He fights back with his own, this time more gentle, retaliation as your laughter picks up. The Metkayina male’s tail swishes in excitement the further you take this little competition. Little sounds erupt from you that confuse him for a moment before he realizes this is your human form of battle cries.
His stomach aches from laughing so hard even as you manage to push a wave high enough to pummel him in the face. Ao’nung’s cerulean eyes narrow, his lips turning up into a crooked smirk. You have the better sense to scramble across the short distance of the rock when he lets out echoing yips and cries of a hunter who has already caught his precious prey.
Laughter and shouts coalesce together when he snatches you back in his arms. The splashing dies down as you struggle to catch your breath between wheezing laughter. Even Ao’nung himself finds his heart pounding at a significantly faster rhythm, but it’s spurred on by a new thrill that has taken him.
In the fit of playing you’ve slowly floated out of the circle in his arms, still holding onto his arms for support but there is no fear in your eyes now at being loosely kept above water. Just as he thought, the worst was all in your head.
“Do you trust me?”
You pause, eyes flickering between his face and the water again. And though it takes a moment for you to respond, you finally relent. “I do.”
Ao’nung smiles and situates you to float on your stomach. “Follow my lead, precious. Take a deep breath.”
Once he is sure your lungs are filled with oxygen Ao’nung wastes no time in helping you dive beneath the surface. His hands guide your body into the proper arch so that you can sink below and once you are, he dives beneath himself and grabs your clasped hands. With ease he slips deeper until he is directly below you and able to smoothly pull you through the water.
Your eyes are squeezed shut, as if bracing for harsh impact. Rolling his own eyes, he taps your cheek gently. When they timidly open he gives you a wide grin and a wink. However, Ao’nung does not have your spotlight for long. Now blown wide into sparkling orbs, your eyes take in every detail of the sea.
He gets to see it. The first time you fall in love with the ocean. The way you almost let out the breath in your lungs when a spade wing skates close by. How your gaze reflects every vibrant color the reefs have to offer. From the smallest to largest creature, you pay each the same undivided regard.
He couldn’t say what you see if his life depended on it, too enraptured in watching your reaction instead. The way one hand unclasps from his and reaches out to pet the juvenile ilu that passes them. Ao’nung can’t remember the first time he saw the ocean. He was only a baby and since then the underwater world has been his home more than the land above. So there is no telling if he looked at it for the first time the way you do now. Does he still appreciate the beauties of the sea for what they’re worth? Or has he grown to take such things for granted?
It feels like seeing it anew when he looks at it through your eyes.
He could watch you forever. Pull you through every inch of the sea if it means you can experience every wonder present from the open sea to the small nooks and crannies. You however can not hold your breath forever like this. So reluctantly, Ao’nung pulls you back up above the waves.
You gasp for air, but luckily there is no coughing fit to follow. Ao’nung keeps you above the surface as you fight to go back into a steady breathing pattern. However, it seems that the rapid beat of your heart is not just from catching your breath but also a reflection of the pure adrenaline your body displays.
Nothing is said for a long moment. Trying to gauge your reaction is difficult but a ravenous energy buzzes from you. Those pink lips part, but you don’t speak right away. You don’t appear to know what to say. And then slowly, your right hand comes to cup his cheek. He’s lost in your eyes the moment they snag his. A small sound catches in your throat, something between a laugh and a sigh.
For all the millions of words you’ve spoken, somehow this sound is the one he understands the most. True and utter awe.
Ao’nung doesn’t have to think when your lips touch his. It’s as simple as holding his breath, effortless as he pulls your body closer to his and bends to meet your kiss. It’s only been a few weeks since you first came to retrieve your bunny from his marui but his body has already begun acclimating to yours beautifully. He knows when to anticipate your little gasps for air when you’ve been kissing too long. His large hands have memorized the curve of your face and the feel of his fingers threading through your silky hair.
The ocean has never felt more tranquil than with you in his arms.
“The purple on the fins also reminded me of a dress that I put down ages ago, but now I don’t know maybe I will pick it up again. Because it looks so pretty in the water. Now that I think about it, it reminds me a lot of Annika’s dress. The one she magically receives at the end.”
Ao’nung wracks his brain to identify which movie you are referring to. Is this one you have already showed him or are you simply thinking out loud? Chances are it may be one of the stories he missed entirely because you were too tempting wrapped in that silky lingerie. Distracting you had earned him a light slap to the head but you didn’t complain once you were clenching around his thick fingers.
Even with your translation, following the plots of those weird stories is not nearly as entertaining as watching your face scrunch up in pleasure. Regardless, it’s important to you so he tries his best to behave. Or at least behave enough to keep you from kicking him out of your room.
“Oh my god what I would give to have the fabric for that dress.” You groan, your little theatrics tugging a smile to his lips.
“You were a very good numeyu [student] today, paskalin.” Ao’nung says, squeezing the hand that is interlocked with his own. Your fingers barely peek out from where his massive hand has them caged.
“Yeah well I have a pretty good karyu [teacher].” You send a wink even as heat rushes to your cheeks.
“Well I wouldn’t be a good teacher if I didn’t motivate you properly. So since you were so good for me today,” He snatches your waist and pulls you to a stop against him in one move. “I think you deserve a reward.” Those soft hands rest along his stomach, thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles along the swirling pattern of his skin.
“Oh…I…is that so?” All essence of confident flirting flitters away before his eyes. Much like a fish out of water you gape for the proper words. It is far too easy to render you to such a state.
“Why are you soaking wet?” Lo’ak rounds the corner and jumps onto the woven walkway. While you put effort into breaking away and turning to the Sully boy with a smile, Ao’nung finds no reason to conceal his distaste for the untimely interruption.
“We were swimming.” You chirp, bouncing on the balls of your feet. Lo’ak’s unnatural dark brows knit together.
“You can’t swim. You’re terrified of the water. Remember last time I tried to get you in. It took hours and after five minutes you-”
An unrecognizable string of words fall from your lips to interrupt a story that Ao’nung was becoming quite interested in hearing. The consolation prize however is hearing your sharp tone shut the other male down. Whatever embarrassing memory Lo’ak was wanting to share is certainly enough to have you fidgeting beside him. “Ao’nung is teaching me how to swim.” You say, switching back to Na’vi.
“You are?” Lo’ak scoffs, finally turning to address him. His golden eyes dart between the two of you and it takes no genius to understand what memory the forest boy is recalling. In his youth Ao’nung had not been the most patient in teaching Lo’ak especially. Then again, he was also not in love with Lo’ak. He never earned the same softness that you bring out in him.
“It seems she has only been in need of the right karyu.” That smooth comment has Lo’ak eyes narrowed into slits. Sensing the tension between them you are quick to jump in.
“It was actually a lot of fun! I got to see a spade wing and a baby ilu, Lo.” Your voice is infused with so much energy, it’s clear you are attempting to compensate for the negative energy withering between Lo’ak and himself.
“And you went out in that? Tsmuke [sister], those are barely scraps.” He huffed, gesturing at your swimsuit. Something swells in Ao’nung’s chest. By the stars he is not about to let some forest boy crumble your confidence in wearing such a garment after all the work you’ve done to get this far. However, just as he is about to steer you behind him and give this skxawng [moron] a piece of his mind, you shrug and let out a little laugh.
“You wear nothing but a loincloth every day, Lo’ak. You’re not really in a position to judge.” Lo’ak opens his mouth to protest but you beat him to the punch. “Anyways, we’ve got to run. Bye!” You call out with a dramatic wave while tugging Ao’nung down the walkway. Sending a sly look over his shoulder he catches the way Lo’ak watches from afar with a pinched expression.
“Sorry about him.” You sigh.
“He does not approve.”
“No, it’s not like that. Lo’ak just thinks he has to play this protective brother role. It’s not personal.” His relationship with Lo’ak has come a long way since the Sullys first landed on this walkway. They’ve grown to put up with one another and occasionally be friendly, a necessity with the Omatikaya male courting his sister. That being said, he has never considered them close, nor would he be offended at finding out Lo’ak sees it the same way. You on the other hand don’t seem to understand this dynamic as you desperately try to reassure him.
“I swear he thinks just because he’s taller he can play big brother. He has concerns but that’s just part of his bravado act. I wouldn’t let it bother you.”
“It doesn’t.” Ao’nung shrugs. Although, it nags at him that Lo’ak has been sharing these concerns with you. If he has complaints they should be brought to him directly, not woven into your mind in hopes of creating doubt. Would that work? Have you already developed your own concerns? You’re a shy little thing at times but Ao’nung has always figured that to be part of how your personality reacts to his own. Surely, you must know the way he feels about you.
For all the ways you openly wear your heart on your sleeve, he still somehow can not be sure. Some things still remain a mystery when it comes to you.
“What is this?” You ask, once you're back inside his marui. He squints to make out one of the small figurines he had placed next to his hunting gear.
“A…cat?” He answers, eyes still squinting to see if he has passed your test correctly.
“No Ao’nung. I mean what is it doing here? What are all of them doing here?” The rest of the figurines are much like this cat one, although just like your bunny they all wear tiny clothes. Calico Critters you had called them the first time he asked. They serve no real purpose, just tiny things that stand there but the important thing is that you adore them.
So naturally he swiped them to bring back here.
“They don’t do anything, precious. Just exist I suppose.”
Your attempt at a stern expression is endearing, hand placed on your hips as your neck cranes to glare up at him.
“I’m starting to think you’re a kleptomaniac. You can’t keep stealing my stuff.”
“It is not stealing.” He shrugs.
“Oh really? Then what is it?”
“Relocating.” Ao’nung grins. “Now you can enjoy them here.”
Although there is not true ire in your questioning there is in fact real push back on the topic. You know why he has stolen your creepy figurines. Just as you know why he has strung some fabrics of pink and purple like a canopy along the ceiling of his marui. And placed a few of your extra blankets in his hammock. Whatever it takes to lure you back here night after night.
Notwithstanding all of his efforts, you continue to split your time between here and your place in the tawtute caves. Moving into his marui would be a natural next step in your relationship. Of course you are attached to all the silly trinkets you’ve acquired but he is not opposed to letting you litter his marui with them as long as you would call this place your home too.
Still, he remains patient. Many courting couples wait until properly mating before living together anyways. You must share the same morals. However, he sees no harm in enticing you all the same.
“I know what you’re doing.” Your voice smooths out into a sing-song tone. Ao’nung’s long hair falls over his right shoulder when he cocks his head to the side and feigns innocent curiosity. “You truly are ridiculous.” Fighting back a smile you begin arranging the figurines neatly into their separate families.
He has the decency to wait until they’re organized before sweeping you from the ground and falling back onto his hammock in one swift move. It draws a surprised chirp from your lips. A deep sigh echoes from his own chest even as you make weak protests about him giving you a heart attack.
“You know I still need to dry off.” You remind him but Ao’nung already has his head leaned back against the woven fabric. His right arm smoothly encircles around your middle to clamp you against his chest. You squirm and thrash to get out of his hold but it only takes an iota of his strength to keep you locked there. Even with his eyes closed in a show of feigned sleep, he can’t keep his lips from twitching into a pleased smirk.
That smirk crackles into a full laughter induced grin when your small hand swats at the side of his head. “Ao’nung,” You chide, a slight whine to your tone that has him stifling back his amusement.
Peeking his eyes open he finds your own strangely colored eyes glaring back at him. This little game of back and forth is one that you both enjoy frequently but he has a feeling that this time you may actually insist on being let up to get your towel. A sigh heaves from his chest as he shakes his head fondly. “There is no need, tawtute. I will keep you warm.” He says, reaching down to pull out a blanket and toss it over your small form.
Ao’nung is grateful when you don’t fight him further or demand a proper reason. He would give one but it’s unlikely you would understand. How could he explain that seeing you drenched like this does something to him? That your hair smelling of the sea’s salt water serves as a direct signal of you and his home coming together? Everything about you is unique, so new and foreign to him but there is something about witnessing those beautiful aspects of you slowly integrate into his life on the reef as well that lingers with him.
But you’re tawtute. Your sense of smell is greatly dampened in comparison. It’s a shame considering how many times he has scent marked you and you can’t even recognize it, let alone appreciate the possessive gesture. No, there isn’t an easy way to explain to you what he is feeling as he presses his nose against your crown. And even if there is, it’s doubtful that he would be the one to find it. Saying the right thing hasn’t always been his strong suit. It’s Tsireya that is good with the mushy sentiments.
And why waste the air with such jumbled nonsense when this moment already holds everything he needs? An ocean breeze that filters through the entrance of his marui to coast over your frame and carry your essence. A soft sway to the hammock, lulling him to relax. The satisfying weight of your warm body draped across his own.
And then there are your hands. Uncalloused pointer finger that delicately begins tracing over his shoulder tattoo. The soft glide of your finger greatly contrasts the pain he had endured to stain his skin with dark ink. You’ve never witnessed a Metkayina tattoo ceremony but your quiet fascination carries a certain reverence.
Swirling down further and further until he can feel the tickle along his bicep. Such a simple sensation, barely more than the brush of a breeze, yet it melts through him like liquid gold. The unconscious tense of his muscles release and already he can feel his breath deepen. He’s on the verge of succumbing to this silent lullaby when his ear twitches from being touched.
Ao’nung opens his eyes to find that you are carefully tucking a few strands or curly hair behind his pointed ear. Letting others touch his hair is not a normal practice for him. Traditionally he has relied on Tsireya exclusively to fashion it into a suitable hairstyle. There is something deeply…personal about it. It’s always been a fixation for you though.
And where his tail typically pikes onto alert and a growl blossoms in his chest at a foreign touch to his curls, somehow it all dissipates away when it comes to your strange tawtute hands.
Perhaps it's the way you marvel at him openly. You’ve always had a fascination for pretty things, a category that he was pleased to find himself a part of when your hasty confession came that first night. You’re often shy in speaking it, but your touch and stare always hold that same appreciation for his physique.
There’s more to it, though.
When you stare up at him like this, all bashfulness put to the side, it cuts him open. As if with one prolonged moment you’ve managed to strip him bare and peer into his very soul. It’s not his hair or intricate tattoos that you see. Not even the dozen of physical differences between you two that screams alien. You look at him.
Whatever you see in him.
If only he could read your thoughts. Finally untangle your tawtute customs and culture that have webbed you into a puzzle for him. Do you get that burning in your chest too? That one that feels like his heart has been clutched in an iron grip? Perhaps a grip from the same hands that now go back to tracing his tattoos.
With the smallest sigh your head drops back onto his chest. Sleep overcoming you is obvious by the now absence of touch along his right bicep. Ao’nung follows you into slumber mere minutes after when he has finally brought his heart rate back to a normal speed.
Your nap far exceeds his own. While Ao’nung had only dosed off for a few minutes but you are dead to the world for at least a half hour. Apparently that little swim had worn you to the bone. He would have to help you with endurance. It seems tawtute are not built for staying in the water long.
In fact you are so still as you sleep that Ao’nung finds himself placing a hand across your back to check that it still rises and falls with breath. When you do wake up it takes a minute for you to make out where you are with blurry vision. A sheepish look crosses your features upon realizing what position you’ve remained in. It’s followed by some silly notion that you laying on top of him is somehow considered rude or uncomfortable. He’ll never understand why you make these assertions.
Regardless, Ao’nung quickly wraps both arms around your waist when you attempt to move off of him. Dislodging yourself from his hold is an impossible task, a truth that you must come to recognize as you only give a feigned huff and try fighting back a smile.
“We can’t stay here forever you know.”
His pointer finger slowly drags over every vertebrae of your spine as he lets out a thoughtful hum. “Maybe not forever but I did promise a reward. Can’t have you skipping off before receiving what you are owed.”
The air seems to thicken with his words. A familiar tension is slowly wound as all of your sleepiness dissipates and goosebumps ripple across your skin. He can feel the evidence of his own excitement shifting beneath his tewng. Dirty thoughts of all the ways he could reward you sprout to the forefront of his mind. There is no end to these thoughts when it comes to you. Never before has someone woven themselves into his fantasies so incessantly. Even to the point where it can be a struggle to focus on his duties while you swim through his head.
Ao’nung pushes down those ideas for now, however. It’s only fair that you get to pick the reward after all that you’ve accomplished today. And then…if you need some ideas he would be more than anxious to supply.
“Have you decided what reward that will be?” He asks, forcing his hands to remain above the tempting curve of your ass. Just for now. You’re not always the most articulate when his wandering hands come into play.
Something flickers in your expression. Only a second before you are averting your gaze and gnawing on your bottom lip. Ao’nung’s exploring hand stills as curiosity lights within him. Propping himself onto one elbow he invades your space, forcing your eyes to meet his own.
“You do.” He smirks, reveling in the way you fight to squirm.
“Well, maybe. I don’t know. It’s just an idea so I’m not sure if-”
“Sevin [beautiful/pretty],” Ao’nung interrupts. “Tell me.” He coats his voice in a smooth purr, hoping to coax an answer from you, but his patience can only last so long. Whatever idea has sprouted in your brain must be obscene enough to prompt such hesitation in telling him. However Ao’nung has come to find that your meter for rating lewds acts is far more sensitive than his own. Regardless, you have his attention now. All of his previous ideas are cast to the side in favor of hearing what has you blushing.
“I was thinking that maybe…if it’s okay with you…that I could…suck you off?”
Ao’nung’s devilish smirk drops in an instant.
“For your reward you want to suck my cock?” The vulgar language has your cheeks deepening in color but you manage to nod.
Great Mother above, where did he find you?
It seems he must have done something right in his past life. He was ready to find satisfaction in your slick along his tongue and watching your writhe with pleasure but now you are sitting on top of him, the true depiction of bashfulness, asking to put his cock down your throat. His brain can’t really make sense of it, but he still stands by not asking questions when nice things come his way. And precious, you are by far the nicest thing he has ever had.
“Is that weird?”
“No,” comes his instant reply. Subconsciously he holds his breath. You’re an easy one to spook.
“Actually I was hoping you could teach me.”
This is starting to feel far too close to one of his favorite fantasies. So much so that Ao’nung takes note of every detail in the room to confirm that this could not be just some erotic dream. But this is real and a feral creature is stirring inside of him, gnawing at the bars of its enclosure.
“You’ve never…” Ao’nung trails off. Neither of you have talked much about past relationships, you especially. It’s common knowledge that the Metkayina prince has had his time sleeping around but he has no inkling of what you’ve experienced. The only hints he receives are the clear hesitation in your movements. Just enough to have him wondering if he is your first.
“I have. Just once.” That has his other arm propping him so he is now sitting up properly. “I mean I tried to once but I-I wasn’t very good at it. At least that’s what he said. Which make sense, I had no idea what I was doing so I couldn’t really be mad when he said we shouldn’t again-”
“Who?” A dark venom fills his chest. This is the first time you’ve discussed a past lover and he’s already not liking the light it's being presented in.
“Just a guy I used to date back with the Omatikaya.” So he’s not here. It would take crossing an ocean to kill him. Then again, he’s done more for less. Was it an Omatikaya male or did you fool around with one of the science tawtute? “It’s fine. He was right.”
His brain lags at the information. Caught between confusion and rage.
“And oh god now I’ve made it sound like the most unappealing thing possible. Great.”
Ao’nung barely hears your embarrassed groan. What man in their right mind has a beautiful creature like you on her knees for him only to criticise and turn her away? To be presented a gift and not only reject it but smash it into pieces, tear your confidence to shreds. So what if you’re inexperienced? A true man knows how to teach, takes joy in it. Joy that this creature has tossed out without regard.
It’s a perplexing tug of war between emotions. As a man himself he can’t help but find this person’s actions incredibly ridiculous. And yet, the idea of him enjoying your body has Ao’nung imagining ripping this faceless man to shreds. And a man he must not be. No true man does this.
To treat you in this way…there is no honor in such actions. The Omatikaya are different but they are still respectable Na’vi. It could not have been one of them, that would somehow feel worse. So a tawtute it must have been. A vrrtep [demon].
“It doesn’t have to be that. I think I might be making it a bit weird by sharing this.”
“This man said such things to you?” To your face? He looked you in the eyes as you fiddled with the hem of a lacy skirt and apprehension seated beneath long lashes and told you he didn’t enjoy your mouth around him? He watched those beautiful eyes hold back tears? Looked at perfection incarnate and spat in the face of it?
“Well yeah but..does it really matter?”
Does it matter? How could it not matter? Is that what he wanted you to think? That this was no big deal, convince you to suck it up and move on without complaint? That wouldn’t work on you. It’s only been a few weeks and even Ao’nung knows that words cut you deep. Anyone with a morsel of sense would know that. But this man, the same that somehow had the honor of sharing your bed, obviously had not taken a second to understand you.
Could he even please you if so? Had he even tried? Not in the way Ao’nung has, that much has been obvious from the way you still tremble after the orgasms he coaxes from you. It’s not a contest, for that he would require true competition. However a part of him, a part that directly conflicts his innate urge to pummel any man that has touched you, feels as if there should be competition. No one would ever compare to him, but your past experiences should have at least been enjoyable.
“Who is this?” His throat strains to hold back a growl.
“Um…I’m getting the feeling that it’s a bad idea to tell you.”
Smart thing that you are, you’re right. Correct if your goal is to prevent Ao’nung from ripping this anonymous man’s throat out. He can’t fathom why you would want to protect him but then again this is very in character for you. No matter what someone has done you always have a way of finding a soft spot for them. You care so much, sometimes too much.
And this man didn’t care for you at all.
Your precious heart is too big to tell him, but the Metkayina prince vows he will find out one way or another.
“He was just being honest.”
“Sevin,” A stern understone laces the pet name as he captures your chin. “He did not deserve you.”
Ao’nung weighs those words with every ounce of sincerity he can muster. And you feel it. It shows in the way your shoulders drop and expression melts into something new. Not a smile by any means but his words have touched you, they beckon you further into his arms. And then there is that cinch around his heart again.
And being the ridiculous little thing you are, you thank him. As if telling the truth is ever a favor. You are utterly nonsensical at times. Utterly nonsensical and utterly his.
“What he deserves is a spear through the chest.”
“Okay big guy, calm down.” You say, patting his chest while trying to hide your creeping amusement. You think he’s joking. How cute.
“Are you asking me to teach you because that’s what you want or because you think this is what I want?” Ao’nung hates to ask, to potentially ruin this opportunity for himself, but it’s needed. He won’t be like that pathetic creature of a lover you once had. Avoiding that starts with making sure you aren’t simply doing this for his benefit, to prove yourself in a way that he has never and will never ask you to.
“Do you want it?”
His hairless brows drop as he gives you a deadpan look. “Precious, you already know that I do.” Want it more than you can even fathom. “But that’s not what I asked you.”
There is a beat of hesitation, you poor bottom lip already torn up from your gnawing. “I want to feel like I know what I’m doing. I want to make you feel good in the same way you do me.”
“You already do.” There is still much left for the two of you to explore, so much more he can’t wait to do with you but there is no rush. You’ve brought him to the heights of pleasure no one else has before.
“I know but…still. And it’s not the only reason why. I’m curious.” Your head tilts in a subtle way to create a curtain out of your hair and hide that sheepish look. “You’re just so different and I…I’m interested.”
Different.
Interested.
Two trails of thoughts fighting for attention. Different from your past lover. Different because he is Metkayina or different because he is a Na’vi. Perhaps it shouldn’t matter but it’s difficult to stamp down that curiosity.
However, Ao’nung focuses on the latter. The same that has his ears perking with his own interest and groin suddenly becoming very aware of your weight situated there.
A low hum of appreciation rumbles in his chest as he slowly situates your further onto his lap. His turquoise cheek brushes against your jaw before he presses a slow kiss there. “My curious sevin, hm?” You suck in a breath when his sharp teeth just barely nip at your earlobe.
“Yes.” You whisper but those small hands are already smoothing over his shoulders, one even slinking to the nape of his neck.
“You know I am always happy to sate your curiosity, precious.”
That abused bottom lip is finally released when he captures you in a kiss. Despite the growing anticipation, Ao’nung leads this kiss in a pace that is anything but rushed. It’s languid. Relaxed. Sensual. And when he tilts his head to deepen the kiss you eagerly respond in kind.
The ties of your bikini are much simpler than the average Metkayina top and yet it’s difficult to concentrate on undoing them when his tongue is swirling around yours and your hands have already taken real estate lodged deep in his hair. Fingers fumbling for a moment to undo your top he can’t fathom at which point he had let you get such a tight hold on him. Those curious hands hold more power than he would dare to let you know.
The skimpy piece of fabric finally sags, only held up by being sandwiched between his chest and yours.
“This is what you want?” Ao’nung asks again, only departing from your lips for a second.
“Yes.” He pulls back when you eagerly chase after him for more.
“Promise me.” He demands.
“I promise.”
No words have tasted sweeter against his lips. So Ao’nung rewards your sweet behavior with a slow beckon of his tongue. Skillfully exploring and stroking your own until a groan has your lips parting wider for him. His right hand cups the back of your head, easily encompassing the width of your skull in his hold. Anything to keep you there, to continue breathing in your essence until it is seared down his throat.
Your breath is erratic when he pulls away. Even more so when he whispers a simple, “good girl.” There is always a visceral reaction that comes from that short phrase. An ease of tension in your muscles, a breathy sigh that directly trails to a shiver down your spine. It’s become one of his favorite coined phrases for that reaction exactly. Praise has a way of slipping you into a new headspace, one where worry dissipates and you finally allow him to worship you in the way you deserve.
Ao’nung veers back just enough to let your top fall before pulling you close again. Your breasts press against his chest, those tender nubs already prickling against his skin. So responsive and he’s hardly done anything to you yet.
It’s your turn to fumble with the ties when you attempt to undo his tewng. Ao’nung smoothly shifts onto his knees but that doesn’t greatly reduce your struggle when it comes to unwinding the ties from his tail. He’s partly to blame. The second you graze the base of his tail it reacts with a strong swish. Without one of your own, it must be difficult for you to comprehend the unique sensitivity of his tail. You sense there is something, though, hands already retreating shyly.
“What is wrong?” He murmurs against your temple.
“Nothing.”
It’s less than convincing, even more so when you grapple to meet his gaze. “No need to be shy, precious.”
“I just…don’t want to hurt you.”
It’s tempting to roll his eyes, a tawtute habit you’ve somehow managed to ingrain in him. Instead, he grasps your tiny hand carefully in his own and begins pushing it back towards his tail. “Just as you are mine, paskalin, I am yours.” Ao’nung fights back a shiver when you just barely brush the base of the wide appendage. “Which means I am yours to explore. Yours to enjoy.”
“Take advantage of it.” Something flickers in your countenance at his words. Although still slow and careful in actions a spark of intrigue ignites. He has been the main instigator in your interactions, far more bold in letting his desire for you show. And while Ao’nung revels in always having the upper hand it’s important that you understand the joy that comes from it too. To let you wander and sate your curiosities without restraint. Finally allow yourself the freedom from silly tawtute concerns that plague you.
Because he is yours.
He has been yours since the first time he saw you land at their shores with ribbons in your hair wearing that ridiculously short yellow dress. Even he did not know that day how far gone he already was.
Either way, you two have obviously been crafted for one another. And Ao’nung will be damned before he lets pointless Sky People customs get in the way of you fully enjoying that bond. To finally taste the ecstasy that comes with owning someone, body and soul.
Finally his tewng falls away and Ao’nung helps you dispose of it to the side. As he works on the ties of your bottoms now a kernel of courage slowly sprouts within your actions. Ao’nung smirks against the crook of your neck when he feels the traces of fingertips along his pecs before dragging over the lines of his abdomen.
As tempting as it is to tease you for the interest, Ao’nung spares you his knowing looks and instead encourages the action by placing sweet kisses along your throat. With very little effort he ripens an old mark he had left there last week, licking over the now beautiful contrast of color in delight. It seems to spur something within you as well, small kisses now running over his collarbones and down his chest.
The touch is featherlight, enough to have him almost squirming at how it tickles him. However, you are already letting your touch travel south. Ao’nung graciously aids this endeavor, sliding you off of his lap, flinging your bottoms to the side and laying down on his back with spread legs. For a moment he considers standing up and letting you kneel for a better access but it feels like a risk.
You are just barely mustering up enough confidence to explore. A small thing like you is easy to startle, standing above you could be too intimidating. And as much as he loves watching your nerves paint a beautiful blush over those cheeks, today it’s in his best interest to tread carefully.
Ao’nung holds back a jerk reaction when your hand wraps around the base of his cock. Despite your demure nature this activity has become one very familiar to you. It’s been a safe substitute for your little pussy as you work your way up there. It’s hard not to think about how you will stretch around his thick cock someday, how little whines will bubble up your throat without reprieve and he will finally know what it means to be inside of you.
But you are small. And fragile.
It’s easier to push those thoughts aside in order to maintain his patience.
You only stroke him a few times, hand barely able to wrap fully around him. And then without any warning, there is a loss of touch and you are crawling up his chest again. Ao’nung pulls back and raises a brow when your right hand slinks to the back of his head. Perhaps you are wanton for another kiss but then your lips never descend to his. Instead there is a shift in his hair before the rest of his long locks are falling freely and you are holding the band that originally had it tied into a bun.
This is a common preference of yours, seeing his hair unrestrained. However, today you don’t just fling the band to the side and become engrossed in admiring the curls. That large band is fitted around your wrist before you are bending back to gather your own hair. The view is more than preferable, back curving and chest opened up for his heated gaze. All of a sudden he can’t remember what his objections to his own hair were. Not when his teeth are drawing blood from his lip just imagining how perfectly they would sink into your right breast. Just above the nipple where no one but him would get to admire such a beautiful mark.
You tie your hair back into a ponytail, even giving its roots a good tug for measure. You mean business.
“Who is stealing whose stuff now?” Ao’nung jests.
“I don’t see you complaining.” Your nose scrunches at him in a teasing manner. It wipes away when his warm hands encompass your hips, kneading the flesh sensually. His left hand travels up your stomach and past your ribcage before brushing one nipple not so innocently.
“I’m very generous when it comes to you, precious.” You won’t understand how true those words are, especially when you’re too busy gasping at the harsh tug he gives your right nipple.
Saliva gathers along his tongue as he flicks the other hardened nub. Those pretty little tits always feel good in his mouth. So malleable. Your cries always responsive. If it weren’t for the clear ache between his legs the Metkayina prince would have you flipped onto your back and mouth tormenting those perfect breasts until you would beg for him to stop by now.
But that’s not the reward he promised you, he reminds himself as you are released and slink back down between his thighs. Apprehension settles in your shoulders again when you are face to face with his twitching cock. Fisting the bottom you take a deep breath to steady yourself.
“Paskalin,” He calls lowly. “There is no rush.”
Everything in his body screams otherwise, but Ao’nung maintains a cool composure. You’re already nervous. Already scarred from a past bad experience. It’s his job to do everything in his power to ease that burden. Even when that means torturing himself with the perfect image of you nestled between his thighs all while desperately aching for your touch.
“Yeah but you’re-”
“I am fine. It’s your reward, sevin. Do what feels natural to you.”
What feels natural to you is far more than what he is ready for. Plush lips press against his hip bone, trailing down into open mouthed kisses along his thigh. And then there are your teeth. Those silly blunt teeth that struggle to make an indent in his flesh but your attempt is stimulating all the same. A soft tongue and small teeth encompassed with those perfectly kissable lips work to suck and bite a new color along his upper right thigh.
You’re trying to mark him.
Claim him as he has claimed you so many times.
It’s concerning how fast it frays as his self control, awakening that primal beast within him. His own nails sink into the root of his messy hair while his other hand resting at the back of your head, carefully ensuring to cup you gently not push. When a muscle in his thick thigh flexes that silky tongue chases the line it makes.
The entire endeavor has his body awakening with anticipation, fighting the urge to pin you down and take what he wants now. It is ridiculous how such a simple act from his tawtute has him twitching with need but he loves seeing you this way. Letting your unbridled desire show, using his body the way that has always been your right.
When you pull back, Ao’nung’s neck cranes to see the damage. And damage you can barely call it as there is the smallest purple spot blooming along his upper thigh. Tiny indents of teeth around it.
It is nowhere near the possessive carnage of his own marks upon your lighter skin, in fact the change in color is hardly a contrast. But it’s his. Your adorable attempt at marking your territory is utterly his to treasure. His precious tawtute leaving the sweetest of gifts.
“So pretty, paskalin.” He purrs, finger stroking through your scalp as he battles the urge to stick his tongue down your throat again. The pad of your thumb brushes over the mark, gaze just barely peeking up at him beneath your long lashes.
His body can’t fight a jerk this time when you unexpectedly grab the base of his cock again. A reassuring smile is quickly plastered on his face when you look up at him in concern. The size of him is borderline comical in your hand. Cock practically the length of your forearm, it’s daunting to imagine what a tight fit it will be in your mouth. Equally erotic and nerve wracking to think of those sweet lips stretching around him.
“Promise you’ll help me do it right?” You ask gently, as if you aren’t simultaneously stroking his twitching cock in one hand, precum already drizzling down between your fingers.
“I promise. Stop worrying.” Ao’nung prays you don’t hear the waver in his voice. How unfair it is to expect him to answer your questions when it’s taking everything within him not to fuck up into your fist. “Just start with your tongue, precious. Let yourself taste.”
He had meant for you to explore slowly, maybe start from the bottom and work your way up but it’s clear you’re out to kill him because instead your pink tongue immediately flicks at the head of his cock, right over the slit where a drop of precum rests.
It’s a pure shot of electricity.
And that’s when Ao’nung knows…he is in trouble.
How did he not calculate for this? This is by far not the first time he has had a beautiful woman’s mouth running along him, but they had all been Metkayina women before you. Their tongues had a rougher texture, something enjoyable but entirely different to the silk-like surface of your own. It’s so soft it almost tickles.
He’s known this from the first time you kissed but somehow that never translated into how it would feel against his most sensitive parts.
Mercy is not afforded to him. Like the good numeyu you are, his instructions are taken to heart as your tongue lathers along every inch of him. Sometimes shorter flicks of your tongue while others long strokes that travel from the base to tip. You are duteous in your task. Even going as far as running over his heavy balls hanging beneath.
Great Mother above, he was not built to contain himself like this.
Blown out pupils look up at him when you pull back. It’s impossible to miss the seated hunger in your gaze, but first and foremost you wait for him to guide you. There is a drop of his arousal resting at the corner of your lips innocently, already starting to glow as eclipse has set outside.
Without thinking, Ao’nung finds his own thumb pressing at the dot to slip it back inside your mouth. The digit is accepted without question. Curiosity getting the better of him now, the prince presses his thumb down on your tongue.
Obediently your jaw slacks and lips separate. The pad of his thumb drags over your silky tongue as his other fingers curl beneath your chin. Saliva coats the digit before Ao’nung softly presses your jaw closed. “Suck,” He instructs.
Unlike with swimming you don’t question his methods. You suck hard enough to hollow your cheeks, presenting the perfect tools to imagine what it will feel like around his cock. “There you go. Breath through your nose, sevin.”
You take every direction graciously, following each to a tee. By the time he pulls his thumb out with a pronounced pop sound, it has a line of saliva still connecting it to your lips. He can’t help himself. Ao’nung slides that wet thumb down between your legs and lets it brush over your clit. A choked sound echoes from your throat, clasping his shoulder as he reaches further down to confirm his suspicions.
You are absolutely drenched.
“I-I want to try,” your breathy voice rushes out.
Biting back a moan, Ao’nung kisses your cheek before whispering, “Do as you wish.”
With heavy lidded eyes, he lays back and watches you settle between his thighs again. There is less urgency this time, desire overriding your apprehension. Less timid now, you take his cock in hand and start to fit your lips around the head. The tip is barely past your lips before you are emulating the ministrations he had taught you on his thumb. Cheeks hollowed and tongue running wild, you suck the very life out of him.
“Precious precious,” Ao’nung gasps out, pulling your head off of him. “Not yet, sweetheart. Not yet.”
His body thrums from the aftershock. Too much all at once. “Let’s focus on getting me in that pretty mouth first, hm?”
“Sorry,” You mumble, already pulling back but Ao’nung pushes your head forward again.
“Don’t apologize, sevin. You are being so good for me.” Wrapped in his praise you lower down around him slower this time.
Just fitting the head inside is already a mouthful, something he tries to keep in mind as his hips are begging to buck up into your sweet cavern. It feels like being wrapped in satin. That perfectly hot wet cocoon of your mouth encircling his cock as if it was made for him. Not even halfway down and he can just barely feel the back of your throat.
Ao’nung keeps you positioned there, not wanting to push you too far yet. He makes the mistake of looking down, however, and that image alone has his balls drawing up, dangerously close to the edge. Your pink lips stretched to their limit, such a beautiful contrast to sparkling eyes that peek up at him for approval. An absolute masterpiece.
A shudder ripples forward when you suddenly pull off of him. “It won’t fit,” you pout.
As if the situation isn’t already enough, those deceptively sweet words have the filthiest of fantasies running through his head.
“That’s alright. You can use your hand for the rest.” He prompts.
The advice helps when you lower down again, fisting what you can of the rest with your hand but even then it won’t cover all of him. “Now you can try your tongue, sevin. Just like I taught you.”
But the way your tongue incidentally rides the vein on the underside of his cock is far more than what he taught you. It’s only his reaction that has you less oblivious to its sensitivities. Ao’nung lungs suck in air sharply, the concave of his stomach accenting the x shape of his ribs.
“Am I hurting you?” You ask, abruptly rearing off of him. Those beautiful features are painted with such genuine concern Ao’nung is caught between laughing at your innocence and growling in need. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean-”
“You are so far from hurting me, precious.” Voice thickening with something carnal, Ao’nung pins you with ocean blue eyes. “That pretty mouth feels so good around me. Let me feel it again, paskalin.”
The words strike you hard, plummeting you into a daze-like state as you softly follow the push of his hand. Whatever worries you have dissipate, too focused on getting him to gasp like that again. And it turns out such filthy words are exactly what you need when he is nestled in your heat, wide eyes crinkling with glee.
“There we go. Now suck, sweetheart.”
It takes little encouragement for your compliance. Even the small directions of how hard to suck, where to lap your tongue is ardently followed. Less experienced you may be but your obedience makes up for it ten fold. And then you are following him down into the thick haze of desire. Nostrils flaring, your head starts lowering down to take him deeper.
Despite his flaring desire to watch you choke on him, Ao’nung hesitates. You’re fragile. This isn’t like the other women he has been intimate with. Throwing you around, using you too harshly, can come with consequences. Push too hard and he may just break you, making this an experience you never wish to repeat.
But then his cerulean eyes catch a glimpse of your thighs, the way they squeeze together. That tantalizing essence is thick in the air, even more so when you begin rutting against the fabric like an animal in heat. There is still a slyness to your movements that tell him you’re trying not to get caught, but it’s too late.
You are enjoying this just as much as him, big wide eyes begging for more.
And so more you will get.
“You want my cock down your throat. Don’t you, sweetheart?”
The hum you give in response not only confirms his theories but lights every pleasure center in his brain. A growl rumbles in his chest. “Of course you do, because you’re a good fucking girl, aren’t you?”
Another whine around him and Ao’nung’s toes are curling against the hammock. He fists the base of your ponytail and both of your hands position themselves at his hips, blunt nails digging in. “Then do as I say, sevin. Relax that throat and let me in.”
The first time he slinks past the back of your throat, your gag reflex kicks in dramatically. Immediately he pulls out to allow you a ragged breath but before he can ask if you’re alright, your hands are clawing at his hips and trying to pull him back in. Ao’nung doesn’t need to be told twice.
The pattern continues. His hips draw forward a little more each time until the choking seems to be too much and Ao’nung draws back to allow you air. Each time he is rewarded with the view of your sinfully debauched state. Lips ruby red, a mixture of his precum and saliva glossing over them, and blown out pupils lazily staring up at him.
You’re a quick learner. It’s easy to fall into a rhythm of this pattern. It comes to a point where you are efficient in taking a deep breath before he is spearing down your throat again. Until it can be done faster and faster. Until he has almost three quarters of his length encompassed and able to thrust a couple times before needing to pull back.
“Fuck, precious!” He groans, feet already planting against the hammock’s surface. “My perfect little cocksucker.”
Those words spurs a new energy through you. When he comes to pop out after a couple thrusts, you snag his hip and give him a look. A silent communication that tells him all he needs to know. And by Eywa, it could not come at a better time. He is hanging just over the edge of release. It’s unclear how much longer he can keep that beast inside of him caged.
So when you pull back for one last breath, his grip tightens on your hair and Ao’nung hips finally snap up with vigor. You take it like a champ, choking and drooling but eagerly pushing him to fuck down your throat. Those little ruts against the hammock becoming even more desperate with every growled moan he releases.
“So fucking perfect.” He growls out between clenched teeth. The last tangible sound before his hips are ricketting sporadically and his balls are drawing up against him. Ao’nung finishes with his head thrown back. A position that only lasts for a moment as he quickly remembers to look down and watch the way you choke around him. He doesn’t fight it when you pull back and the rest of his spend lands across your jaw and collarbones.
Now caught in his own daze, the prince hazily savors the masterpiece before him. Tears glossing over your eyes, abused lips parted, and his bioluminescent cum painting your satin like skin. If only there was a way to keep this image tucked away in his pocket forever.
Coming down from his high, Ao’nung feels a tinge of guilt when he surveys your state. That is, until he catches another whiff of your arousal and watches a dopey grin trace your lips. For the first time in perhaps forever, he finds himself speechless.
That grin dampens down in the silence, however. Chest still heaving for air you nervously ask, “Was it…good?”
Nothing more than a raspy whisper but your concern is pure.
Ao’nung is baffled. Wholly bewildered at how you can sit there with his sperm still dripping down your breasts and sincerely ask him such a question.
He’s going to kill that pathetic man, that is for certain. Rip apart the one person that ever dared to make you question such a thing. The man that made you feel like anything less than a goddess.
“Good?” He asks, slowly rising to sit up. You bite your bottom lip. “Oh precious, you aren’t good.” Ao’nung’s thick tail swerves behind him when he settles onto his knees, hands clasping your hips. “You are addicting. My perfect unraveling.”
If he wasn’t so impatient he would savor the way your breath catches and eyes sparkle in delight. But he only sees it for a second before you are manhandled onto your back with a squeak and he is bullying his head between your squishy thighs.
“Spread those pretty legs, tawtute. It’s my turn to taste.”
If you enjoyed this story please take the time to share your thoughts. I can't express enough how much it means to me, especially for this little story! It's one of my favorites<3
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Any Dad!JJ? You’re just one of the best at writing him.
dad!jj for the soul !!!!! i hope you enjoy, angel! i really enjoyed writing this one! 🤍
jj's elated when he sees his six year old babygirl, avery, walking out of her classroom. it's three-thirty on the dot, a time jj looks forward to daily when he picks up your daughter and takes her to work with him while they wait for you to meet them there after work.
avery reaches him, and he crouches down to her height so he can press a kiss to her cheek. "hi, babygirl."
"hi, daddy!"
he loves how chipper his little girl gets when she's around him. she lets it be known that she adores his presence, and that's what he's always dreamed of as a parent.
"mama killed it on your hair today," he says. he yanks gently at one of the braids you'd put into her hair earlier this morning. "look at these. phew. think my babygirl's a model."
she giggles at her father's affectionate words, cheeks heating with love. her squeals grow louder when jj scoops her up and makes his way to his truck. he buckles her into her booster seat, ruffling up the top of her hair playfully before shutting the door and getting into the driver's seat.
"hey, daddy?"
"'sup, aves?" he asks, pulling out of the parking lot and starting on the journey to the auto shop.
"what colours do boys like best?"
he arches a brow. "what d'ya mean, sweet girl?"
"dunno...like what colour do you like most on mama?"
"hmmm," jj says, pondering out loud. "that's a hard one, baby. i think your mama looks good in everythin'."
an adorable huff escapes her pursed lips. "daddy. 'm serious. you have to pick one."
the truck zooms down the road, passing by avery's favourite fast food joint. jj can't help but speed up just a smidge, hoping and praying that she won't look out the window and wrangle a chicken finger combo out of him. 'cause then he'd have to get one for her. he's never said no to his princess and he doesn't plan on changing that any time soon.
"mm, i guess i'd say red. i like when she wears that matching lipstick too."
jj looks up at the rear view mirror, catching the way avery nods before a presumable heat takes over her face. the dimple she'd gotten from him peeks through as she smiles to herself.
"what're you smilin' about?"
"nothing, daddy. i just think i'm gonna wear red for the dance tomorrow."
he arches a brow, but he doesn't push her on her answer. "whatever you want, babygirl."
˖ . ݁ 𝜗𝜚. ݁₊
jj hears the click-clacking of high heels against the floors of the auto-shop, and he doesn't need to wheel out from underneath the station wagon he's working on to know it's you.
"hi, mommy!" avery greets cheerfully, getting off the spinning chair jj had secured for her from the break room. she runs over to you as quickly as her smaller feet can manage, and you meet her with an equally thrilled grin. you pick her up and squeeze her into a tight hug.
"hi, baby." you smooth down some of her frizz. "how was school?"
"it was good. chrissy shared her chocolate bar with me, and kyle gave me a flower at recess."
neither of you can see it, but jj makes a face under the car.
kyle? who the fuck was kyle?
"he's a good best friend to you, baby," you tell her. "did you thank him?"
"yes. and he's not my best friend anymore, mama. he's my boyfriend."
this time, you do see jj's reaction. or, rather, hear it anyway.
"what?!"
something that sounds like a bang rings through the air, followed by a shit (to which your daughter snickers, always one to find her father hilarious). then, he rolls out from beneath the vehicle, rubbing his forehead to ease the sharp pain. his eyes find your daughter's, though, and he's as stern as you've ever seen him.
"aves— you can't have a boyfriend!"
"daddy, i'm six. i'm not a baby," avery reminds him, sounding every bit like a teenager instead of her actual age. the sass never failed to make you smile.
just like her daddy.
"yes, you are still a baby! my baby!"
"j—" you interject.
"nah. nope. no way."
"why don't you go back over there and colour, angel?" she nods, and you set her down, watching as she runs back to her chair. she takes a sip of her apple juice, bringing her attention back to her artwork.
deciding she's not at all bothered by jj's theatrics, you walk over to him and help him stand. you look up into his cerulean eyes when he towers above you. "babe, relax. she's six."
"exactly! she's a baby! she can't have a boyfriend. s'just not happenin'."
you give him a knowing smile, your arms looping around the back of his neck. "you were my boyfriend when we were six," you remind him. "don't think you found anything wrong about that back then."
he frowns, but pulls you in closer by your hips anyway. no matter what, any time he's around you without touching you, it just seems like a waste.
"that's different. i was a nice boy."
you both realize avery's been listening quietly when she chimes in. "kyle's nice too, daddy. he kisses my cheek everyday at the end of school."
she says it like it's a fact. like kyle never misses out on what infuriatingly sounds like a tradition to jj.
jj thinks he's having a stroke.
"he's puttin' his lips on you, now?!" his forehead falls to your shoulder, and he slumps against you like the six-foot baby he is. "oh god, i think i'm gonna be sick." a beat passes, and then he distances himself from you. the sulk is still prominent on his face, and now, it's probably permanent. he pulls at his collar, shifting uncomfortably as he tries to fan himself off. "'m i sweating?"
avery hops down from her chair, strutting over to her father and tugging at the leg of his coveralls, silently requesting that he crouch down to her height. of course, jj immediately falls in line.
"don't be mad, daddy."
"wait, wait, wait— is kyle the reason you're wearin' red tomorrow?!"
"don't worry, daddy." she pats his cheek like he's the one who needs reassurance. to be fair, he clearly is. "kyle's nice. just like you."
and with that, she trots off back to her chair with a cheshire cat smile, clearly feeling accomplished.
"yeah. he better be," jj mutters bitterly, standing back up.
your hands reach out to grab a hold of your husband again, and it draws his attention back to you. your hands frame his face and you give him a smile. "you're gonna be a total nightmare when she grows up and gets a boyfriend or girlfriend for real."
"damn right, i will. like i said, she's my baby."
you raise a brow. "i thought i was your baby?"
his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and then his mouth forms into a smirk. "see now, she's my baby. but you're my baby." his hands migrate down to your ass and he gives you a squeeze. "you pickin' up what i'm puttin' down?"
"oh, i think i am."
concepts ; concepts (ii)
#꒰ — daydreams ꒱#꒰ — jj maybank ꒱#꒰ — dad!jj ꒱#dad!jj#dad!jj maybank#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x you#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank prompt#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank concepts#jj maybank concept#jj maybank blurb#jj maybank brainrot#jj maybank brain rot#jj maybank thoughts#jj obx#jj outer banks#jj maybank obx#jj maybank outer banks
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— bf!rafe just being protective of his girl ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗
night life in the obx was kind of… boring. so when rafe offered to take you, sarah, and kie to the mainland for a night out, you didn’t hesitate. his one request? bring some guy company. you knew he meant topper or kelce, but instead—
“yeah, john b and jj can come too,” you grin, fully aware he barely tolerates them.
he opens his mouth to protest but just sighs and bites his tongue.
i mean, you did give in to the request. fair trade, right?
the club you were heading to was throwing a costume party. you didn’t have much to work with, but you pulled something together: cat ears, a black corset, the tiniest matching skirt, and thigh-high boots. not a cutesy black cat—the hottest black cat. kind of like catwoman.
rafe never cared much about what you wore. you always asked if it was too much, if he even liked it. his answer never changed. “it’s all good, baby. i can fight.” followed by kisses and an endless string of compliments that made your head spin.
after a long, cramped drive...
you’re squished in the backseat of rafe’s truck between sarah and kie. sarah’s deer antlers keep bumping the roof, and kie won’t stop adjusting her mario overalls.
everyone cheers when the club finally comes into view—then groans in sync at the sight of the massive line out front.
rafe pulls into a lot across the street, parking like a man on a mission. in the passenger seat, jj straightens his green luigi hat, while john b’s camo vest is already halfway sliding off.
you lean forward between the seats, resting your chin near rafe’s shoulder. “hey, do you guys mind waiting in line while we fix our makeup and hair?”
he hands you the keys without looking. “yeah, yeah. we’ll be watchin’ ya,” he mutters.
he’s not really in costume—just his usual kook attire: dark slacks, a fitted black polo, and a sleek watch.
“i told you to be batman,” you tease, eyeing his outfit.
he shrugs. “what? i am batman. bruce wayne.”
you roll your eyes. he smirks, knowing he wins.
the boys get out first, stretching and grumbling about the cold. john b and jj are shirtless under their costumes—something about it being more the vibe. jj swings open the door for you girls to get out after. the second they leave, you all dive back into final touch-up mode.
you check your reflection in the rearview mirror, fixing your cat ears with a smirk. “can’t believe we actually pulled these together last minute…”
“jj literally had mario and luigi hats lying around his house,” kie says, blotting her lip combo.
“my deer antlers are from a costume i wore when i was thirteen. space buns just make it look a lot less tragic,” sarah adds, dusting more highlighter across her cheekbones.
you finish with your powder and everyone piles out of the truck.
as you’re heading toward the club line, a random guy with a mini mic and a cameraman stops in front of you.
“hey! can i ask you a few questions for a youtube video?” he grins, mic already up.
ooo this oughta be fun, you think. “sure,” you nod eagerly, glancing back at sarah and kie, who are already giggling.
“what’s your name?”
you tell him, and he repeats it before moving on. “what’s something you wouldn’t want your future husband to know about you?”
you smile confidently, tilting your head. “nothing, ’cause i’m perfect. beautiful. and amazing.”
kie laughs in front of you, and sarah whistles.
you don’t even notice that rafe and jj have wandered on over until rafe speaks up.
“yo, what’s this?” he asks, stepping up next to the youtuber.
“just an interview,” the guy says quickly, eyes going wide as jj joins him, arms crossed and unimpressed.
you open your mouth to say something else, but then rafe’s hand slides across your chest— landing just over your breast. not groping, just possessive. casual, almost, like it belonged there. he uses the motion to guide you away, hand lingering just long enough to make a point.
“yeah, just doing an interview…” the youtuber repeats nervously, looking at jj.
“mhm. okay.” rafe gives him a tight smile and nod. he then pats the guy’s chest twice—firm but not too aggressive. just enough.
jj claps the cameraman’s shoulder and steers sarah and kie away too. rafe slides his hand into yours as you walk toward the line.
“you were really going to flirt just for content?” he mutters, though there’s no real heat in it.
you glance up at him, grinning. “not seriously, but maybe just a little.” he squeezes your hand, shaking his head with a soft laugh.
you all rejoin john b at the end of the line. the music’s thumping from inside the club already, lights pulsing across the street, and your cat ears catch the glow from a passing car. rafe stands behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder, arms wrapped lazily around your waist.
bruce wayne, you think to yourself, smiling. yeah, sure.
—
—
a/n: made this based off a reel i saw the other day, just gave it a little more thought. i. must. write. more. pogue. content. like or reblog if you likeyyy 🤙 and what you’d like to see!
#vviolets444rroses#rafe cameron#obx#outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#obx drabble#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe outer banks#obx rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron x you#outerbanks rafe#bf!rafecameron#bf!rafe#bf!rafe au#protective bf!rafe
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PAIRING : Naruto Uzumaki x GN!Reader
GENRE : Fluff
WC : 3.3k
SUMMARY : Naruto’s head is spinning — he likes you, but Sasuke seems to have caught your attention too. Feeling like the underdog has never been this hard. | the request
CONTENT WARNINGS : None ( This story is soft, wholesome, and fluff-centered. Only slight angst, violence, or triggering content.)
Naruto knew he wasn’t subtle. Not even close.
When you walked into the room, his whole face lit up like a sunrise and every other thought in his brain disappeared like a puff of smoke. He’d go quiet for maybe two seconds — a miracle in itself — before he started talking way too fast, way too loud, and laughing at jokes that weren’t even funny.
He liked you. A lot. That part was obvious to literally everyone but you.
But lately… something had changed.
It started with the way Sasuke had started standing next to you more often. Nothing dramatic. Just little things. He handed you your scroll before anyone else. Sparred with you a little longer during training. Even gave you a rare, genuine compliment after that mission with the rogue mist ninja. (“That genjutsu counter you used… it was smart. Effective.”)
And Naruto saw it all.
He saw the way you smiled after Sasuke spoke, the way your expression softened like you were letting your guard down. And every time, Naruto felt like someone had punched a hole right through his chest.
“Oi, Naruto,” Kiba said during lunch one day. “You good?”
Naruto’s chopsticks hovered over his bowl of ramen. He didn’t even realize he’d stopped eating.
“Huh? Yeah. I’m fine,” he said quickly, forcing a grin. “Just thinking.”
That was a lie. He hated thinking lately.
Because no matter how many times he tried to tell himself it was fine — that you were just being polite, that Sasuke didn’t like you like that — deep down, he knew better.
Sasuke was cool. Strong. Quiet in that mysterious, brooding way people liked for some reason. Girls had always liked Sasuke. Naruto had seen it since the Academy. And you… you were amazing. Kind and funny and crazy smart and always two steps ahead during missions. You were out of his league — and now you and Sasuke were spending more time together than ever.
Naruto jabbed at his ramen again.
“Hey,” Shikamaru muttered from across the table. “You’re gonna break your bowl if you keep stabbing it.”
Naruto scowled and mumbled, “I’m not stabbing it.”
But he was. Kind of.
౨ৎ
The worst moment came during sparring practice.
It was a warm afternoon. Sun overhead. Birds chirping like they didn’t know Naruto’s world was collapsing.
You were up next. Paired with Sasuke.
Of course.
He stood across from you, calm as ever, his eyes already analyzing your stance before you even moved. You smiled — that soft, unreadable smile you gave only when you were focused — and nodded at him once.
Naruto stood at the edge of the training field, arms crossed, trying really hard not to sulk. But he couldn’t stop watching. Couldn’t stop comparing.
Your fight was so smooth. No yelling. No clumsy punches or flashy jutsu. Just two skilled shinobi moving like you’d known each other for years. You even paused once mid-combo to dodge a kunai Sasuke had thrown behind you — and he smirked, clearly impressed.
Naruto felt like throwing up.
By the end of the match, Sasuke extended a hand to help you up from the dirt. And you took it. Smiling. Laughing.
Naruto turned away.
“They’ll never pick me,” he muttered under his breath, fists clenched at his sides. “Sasuke’s so much cooler than me.”
That night, he didn’t sleep. Just lay on the roof of his apartment, staring at the stars, wondering what it would’ve been like if he were someone else — someone quieter, smoother, someone you could actually like.
He didn’t know that everything was about to change.
౨ৎ
You found him two days later, sitting under a tree behind the training grounds, legs sprawled out in front of him and his hands behind his head.
“Oi,” you said gently, “you’ve been quiet lately.”
Naruto startled and sat up fast, like he’d been caught stealing.
“W-what? Me? Nah. I’m fine.”
You raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
“What? No way!” He scratched the back of his head, clearly lying. “I’ve just been… training. Y’know. Getting stronger. Gotta beat Sasuke one day, right?”
He grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
You didn’t smile either.
“Speaking of Sasuke,” you said carefully, “he asked me something yesterday.”
Naruto blinked. “He—he what?”
You sat down next to him, and his heart practically launched out of his chest. You were close. Too close. Your shoulder barely touched his.
“He asked if I wanted to get tea with him. You know. Like… a date.”
Naruto’s stomach dropped to the floor.
He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. His throat was dry. His brain stopped working.
You glanced over at him, watching the way his jaw tightened, the way his eyes darted away.
“I said no.”
Silence.
Naruto turned back slowly. “Wait. You—what?”
You smiled — a real smile this time — and shrugged like it wasn’t that big of a deal. But there was a faint blush on your cheeks now.
“I said no. I told him I wasn’t interested.”
Naruto stared at you like you’d grown a second head.
“But… but it’s Sasuke,” he said, baffled. “He’s, like… cool. And serious. And strong. Why would you—?”
You turned to face him fully now, your expression soft but steady.
“Because I like loud people,” you said, nudging his shoulder with yours. “People who smile like sunshine. People who talk too much and make stupid jokes and never give up.”
Naruto’s mouth opened slightly, eyes wide.
Your voice dropped a little, quieter now. “I like you.”
And for the first time in days, Naruto’s heart didn’t feel heavy.
It felt like it was about to explode.
Naruto blinked.
Once.
Twice.
“…What?” he finally croaked, voice cracking halfway through.
You laughed — not a teasing laugh, not like you were making fun of him, but like you were nervous too. Like maybe this meant as much to you as it did to him.
“I said I like you,” you repeated, still smiling. “As in… you.”
His brain short-circuited.
Naruto Uzumaki, Number One Hyperactive Knucklehead Ninja, Hero of Konoha, literal jinchūriki and future Hokage — had absolutely nothing to say.
You picked him?
Not Sasuke. Not Mr. Cool-and-Silent. Not tall, dark, and broody with a fan club bigger than the village library.
Him?
“You—you know I’m not like… I mean, I’m not cool,” Naruto blurted, gesturing vaguely at himself like that somehow explained everything. “I talk too much, and I eat ramen every day, and people think I’m annoying and—and I mess up a lot—”
You reached over and flicked his forehead lightly.
He stopped rambling instantly, stunned.
“Don’t say stuff like that about yourself,” you said gently. “You’re strong. And brave. And you make people feel safe just by being around.”
Naruto felt something in his chest tighten, then loosen all at once — like a knot that had finally come undone after being pulled too tight for too long.
“…Really?” he asked, voice small. “You really like me?”
You nodded. “I’ve liked you for a while. You’re just… kinda dense.”
“Hey!” he said, but he was grinning now, wide and bright and absolutely glowing.
You bumped your shoulder into his again. “Sasuke’s great. But he doesn’t make me laugh like you do. He doesn’t light up a room when he walks in. He doesn’t make my heart feel like it’s racing just from a stupid smile.”
Naruto stared at you, lips parted slightly, as if he couldn’t believe this was real.
Then:
“Can I… can I hug you?”
Your heart jumped, and you gave a breathless little laugh. “You don’t have to ask, dummy.”
And then he was pulling you into him — all warmth and sunshine and too-tight arms around your waist, his cheek pressed to your shoulder like he was afraid to let go.
“You picked me,” he whispered, as if saying it made it more real.
You wrapped your arms around him and whispered back, “Of course I did.”
౨ৎ
Later that day, Naruto saw Sasuke leaning against a tree at the edge of the field.
Their eyes met briefly. Naruto held his breath, unsure of what was about to happen.
But Sasuke simply looked away, arms crossed, and said, “Good for you.”
That was all.
No anger. No tension. Just… acceptance.
Naruto blinked. “…Wait, are you not mad?”
Sasuke gave him the smallest glance and rolled his eyes. “You think I don’t notice how you look at them?”
Naruto flushed instantly.
Sasuke pushed off the tree and turned to walk away.
“I’ll get tea with Sakura instead,” he muttered.
Naruto blinked again. “…What?”
But Sasuke was already gone.
౨ৎ
The next time you trained together, Naruto was different.
He was still loud. Still smiling. Still shouting “Believe it!” before nearly tripping over his own feet during a taijutsu drill.
But now, when he caught you watching him, he grinned a little softer. Brighter. And when you walked past, he reached for your hand — not all the way, not yet, but enough for your pinkies to brush.
You smiled.
Later, you and Naruto sat together on the Hokage Monument, legs dangling over the edge, the village glowing beneath you.
He turned to you suddenly, eyes wide and worried. “Hey… if I mess this up… you’ll tell me, right?”
You blinked. “Mess what up?”
“This. Us,” he said. “I’ve never… done this before. But I wanna do it right. I wanna be good for you.”
You looked at him — really looked — and saw everything he tried to hide: the fear, the doubt, the way he didn’t quite believe he deserved something good.
So you leaned over and kissed his cheek.
“You already are,” you said.
Naruto blushed so hard he nearly fell off the mountain.
And for the first time in a long, long time… he believed it.
#ᯓ★ 𝓜𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌#Naruto shippuden#naruto#naruto Uzumaki#Uzumaki Naruto#naruto uzumaki x reader#naruto x reader#naruto fluff#naruto one shot#naruto x gn!reader#naruto x reader fluff#naruto x y/n#naruto x you#naruto uzumaki x reader fluff#naruto uzumaki x you#naruto uzumaki fluff#uzumaki Naruto x reader
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daddy's in a tutu !!



(🩰) ── 𝓟ARK JONGSEONG [제이] ⁞ ㅤㅤ𝓰. fluff, humor, married auㅤㅤ୨୧ㅤㅤ warnings : est. relationship, not proofread, pet-namesㅤ⟡ㅤ!nonidol hubby !jay 𝔁 wife !reader ᯓ ꒰ wc : 1.3k꒱ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤsynopsis .ᐟ in which you come back home to the sight of your husband in a pretty pink tutu (•̪ o •̪) ── 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ᡣ𐭩
juno's note ─ "unfortunately I can imagine him in a tutu if our daughter asked him too" is so jay coded. you will never not catch me yapping about husband jay..bc why is that man so hubby material. if you enjoyed reading this, please be sure to like & reblog !! ♡
the snow was falling heavily outside, blanketing the world in a soft, white layer. inside your cozy home, you were busy getting ready for a day of much-needed errands.
bustling around the house, you pulled on your warmest winter coat and bundled up, ready to brave the icy roads.
before you left, you turned to your husband, jay, and your four year old daughter, yubin, who was sitting on the couch, hugging her favorite pink stuffed bunny.
you stared at your daughter's crestfallen face as she cuddled up beside jay. It was the inevitable that the four year old would be upset right now. due to the icy roads and heavy snow, today's ballet class was canceled, leaving yubin devastated.
“are you sure you'll be okay?” you asked, fixing the scarf around your neck and grabbing your purse.
jay looked up from the couch, where he was busy trying to cheer up yubin, her eyes still a bit puffy from the earlier tears and her nose resembling rudolph.
“we'll be fine,” he reassured with a smile, “right, princess?”
yubin nodded half-heartedly, a cute pout still present on her face as she clutched her bunny.
“you guys call me if you need anything,” you reminded them, pressing a kiss to jay's cheek and ruffling yubin's hair. “i'll be back soon.”
and with one last look at your two favorite people, you braved the snowy outdoors. the cold air nipped at your cheeks, but the promise of hot cocoa and a warm house kept you going.
you made your way to the car, shaking your head with a smile at how cute they looked together. little did you know, an adventure was unfolding inside.

jay and yubin huddled together in the living room, surrounded by the warmth of the heater and the faint sound of delicate snowflakes hitting the window.
yubin wore her little ballet outfit, a mini bun perched on the crown of her head as she practiced her pirouettes.
jay on the other hand, was trying his best to keep up with her, although his ballet skills were definitely less refined.
“okay binnie, let’s try that spin again,” jay said, puffing slightly. “i think i’ve got it now.”
yubin giggled, her cheeks flushed with excitement as he watched her dad try to catch his breath from just a couple twirls.
“daddy, you’re doing great! but…”
“but what, sweetheart?” jay asked, glancing down at her with a raised brow.
“i think you need a tutu too!”
jay blinked. he hadn't anticipated that request. “a tu..tu? i don’t know if that’s a good idea honey...”
“pleeease, daddy?” yubin begged, giving him her best puppy eyes. “it’ll be so much fun!”
jay stared at his daughter for a moment, his heart swelling in his chest at the sight of her big round eyes staring up at him.
after a moment of thought, jay reluctantly sighed, giving in to her adorable plea. “alright, alright. if it’ll make you happy, i’ll wear a tutu.”

and with that, jay found himself sporting a frilly tutu that barely fit his hips, his face turning an adorable shade of pink to match the tutu. yubin clapped her hands in delight, twirling around in her own tutu.
“we're matching now daddy!” yubin cheered, jumping around in her ballet slippers.
jay laughed, looking down at the slight new change of wardrobe. it was definitely a combo to say the least, never in his life would he expect sweats to look so good with a tutu.
“isn't that right binnie?” he commented, extending his hand for yubin to take. “now, let's get back to those grand jeté's we were working on earlier eh?”
yubin squealed, immediately accepting his requests with the grasp of her tiny fingers and a wide smile plastered on her face.
“yes please!”

as they continued their ballet practice, the living room had turned into a makeshift stage for the two, with yubin and jay performing a whimsical ballet routine, the sweet melodies of the nutcracker adding the perfect touch to their chaotic performance.
“okay, let’s see your best grand jeté!” yubin called out, her tiny arms reaching out dramatically.
jay attempted a grand jeté, but ended up looking more like an enthusiastic baby goose learning to fly, his arms flailing in the air.
yubin giggled uncontrollably, trying to mimic her dad's moves with even more dramatizing flair.
they pranced around the living room for what seemed like hours, their tutus fluttering in sync with every twirl and leap. for jay’s sake, they would take periodic breaks throughout the practice.
during these breaks, yubin would watch in amusement as her dad rested his hands on his waist, desperately trying to regain his composure. let’s just say, it was like watching a wind-up toy wind down.

after what felt like ages, you were finally heading home. sure, the sweet jingle of christmas music and the warm smell of cinnamon from each errand stop were enduring, but what you were really looking forward to was being wrapped up in a warm, cozy blanket with the two people you love most.
as you pulled into the driveway, the house looked picture perfect against the snowy backdrop. you carried your bags inside, balancing them as you nudged the door open with your hip.
“i'm back!” you called out, kicking off your snowy boots and setting the bags down in the kitchen. “i got all the goodies!”
no response. now you were curious.
you walked further into the house slowly, following the sound of familiar classical music you knew all too well. peeking around the corner, you stopped in your tracks, eyes wide and mouth agape.
there, in the middle of the living room was your husband, in a bright pink tutu that barely fit his athletic build. matching his outfit was your daughter, her own tutu flaring out as she twirled around, her giggles a melody of their own. they were completely in the zone, unaware of your presence.
If you were being frank, the scene was too precious to interrupt. jay was trying to execute an arabesque, but his balance was off, making yubin laugh even more.
“come on, daddy! like this!” she demonstrated with the grace only a child could have, and jay tried again, a bit more successfully this time.
you couldn’t hold back your laughter any longer, and jay’s head practically spun at the sound, his face turning even redder from embarrassment.
“oh- hey honey! um, well, yubin wanted to practice ballet–” he explained, his voice trailing off at the end.
“don't stop on my account,” you teased, revealing yourself from behind the wall as you took in the scene before you in all it’s glory.
yubin ran over to you, her eyes shimmering with excitement.
“mommy, look! daddy's my ballet partner!”
you couldn't help but chuckle, kneeling down to hug your daughter. “i can see that," you commented through giggles, your gaze flickering towards your husband for a moment. “and I must say.. he's doing a pretty fantastic job.”
“why thank you.” jay answered. he tried to pull off a graceful bow, but from the energy he had just exerted to his recent performance with his daughter, he stumbled a bit.
you couldn't stop laughing, tears forming in your eyes. “oh, jay, you're a sight.”
jay grinned, walking over to join you and there daughter. “anything for our little princess. plus, i think i’ve found a new appreciation for tutus.”

later that evening, after yubin was tucked into bed, you and jay found yourselves cuddled on the couch, the soft glow of the christmas tree lights casting a warm glow to the room.
“you really made her day today, y'know,” you murmured, resting your head on jay's chest.
“well, that's what dads are for, right?” he replied, his fingers playing with a strand of your hair.
“i think you might have missed your calling as a ballet dancer,” you teased, nudging his side with your elbow.
jay laughed, pulling you closer. “i'll stick to my day job, thanks. but for yubin, i'd wear a tutu any day.”
you smiled, feeling the warmth of his love envelop you. “and that's exactly why you’re so amazing.”

𝓢igning off... @pnghoon
── 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 [OPEN 🗯] @onlyhees @amouriu @greentulip @enhluv1 @samiikeu @hoonwhile @dearrwoni @won4kiss @jakesangel
#౨ৎ𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐎.𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒#jay park#jay park fluff#jay park imagines#enhypen jay#enhypen jay park#jay fic#enha fluff#enha#enhypen#engene#enhypen jay imagines#enhypen jay fluff#jay enhypen#jay fluff#jay imagines#Jay#enhypen jay x reader#park jongseong#park jongseong x reader#park jongseong fluff#park jongseong imagines#park jongseong angst#jay x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen x reader#enhypen scenarios#enhypen fluff
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like look look - 90s Moira:



HOX/POX Moira:
the only arguably cunty thing she wore in the 90s is this red ...thing, which is kinda sorta similar in shape if you close your eyes completely to her trask assassin outfit (i misremebered it but i did want to show the assassin fit anyway)

it's not necessarily criticism just an observation. I'd have to go back and reread 70s-80s comics to talk about her clothes there but it's not all that different from her 90s stuff I think. a lot of jumpers and jeans, just slightly less ugly headband. I guess they wanted to give an old character a new spin in hox/pox but it is kind of annoying that it's not (visually) faithful to the character's original portrayal (only talking design rn bc i have many thoughts on the hickman retcon but that's not the subject rn)
I think the main difference between the House of X/Powers of X and the classic portrayal of Moira is her fashion sense. HOX/POX Moira pulls up to Magneto's hideout with a cool ass trenchcoat and has those amazing outfits just to chill alone in her no-place while classic Moira has the ugliest sweaters in recorded history in the most random of colors at every given moment OR that horrendous (/affectionate) white/cream bodysuit with pink highlights. the difference is staggering tbh, they should have given her the pink sweater for those inferno covers to keep it in character
#yael's x men ramblings#trying to give an old character a new spin and completely changing the direction... where have i heard that before#goddddd i gotta red hox/pox-inferno-x lives/deaths of wolverine#i'll do it after i get to moira's death probably#i do like the hox/pox yellow-black combo she's always in but i don't understand it#it doesn't relate to the character it just looks cool#the green dress is... something#but tbh it's iconic at this point#same with the hat#i don't hate the hat but i also think it looks kinda weird sometimes#her dressing up to meet charles does make sense#but when she's just in her no-space?#put her back in a jumper and get her glasses back jesus christ#and the trench coat's... interesting#she doesn't really wear coats that aren't lab coats before#why did she get a stylist. where did she get a stylist. where are her glasses
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✔ Advent Calendar 2024 💜
It's the most wonderful time of the year🎶
It's here, the giving season! And while I love advent calendars and already have one for coffee and one for chocolate, I thought what about one for fics? Though I won't be writing, no - I'll be reviewing and recommending wonderful treats! You'll get juicy suggestions, and our lovely writers will get some love for Christmas! And at the end? I will post a bitey gift :p
How does it work?
Every day, I'll reblog this post and add a card with the fic of the day - I'll give some details, a quote, and a fleeting thought. The selection is based on what I've read this year that got my attention, 1 author a day, multiple AUs and tropes! (check the warnings for the fics individually!)
I hope you check them, and if you do, don't forget to show them some love ✨💜
🎄Here we have it, folks! You'll find every suggestion in the list below:🎄
The Demon Is In The Details by @colormepurplex2
Demon!Jimin x f.Reader / Crossroads AU / angst, smut
"You’re now mine forever, little mouse."
⟢ So absolutely delicious how one mistake changes everything, not just for some silly humans, but also for a demon who thought nothing could surprise him anymore! [my review]
——✨Bonus! Beware The Thorns✨
Yoongi x Jungkook x Jimin x f.Reader / Mafia, Step-Sibling AU / Taboo, angst, smut
"There is only one thing left standing in our way, angel."
⟢ I have no excuses - this is potentially the most indulging, deviant, steaming hot fic I've ever read! It lives in my mind rent-free, thanks Leah! [my review]
Sweet by @oddinary4bts
idol!Seokjin x f.Reader / Idol post Military AU / angsty, smut
It feels like, maybe, you were his all this time too.
⟢ There are so many sweet things about this story: the way that Jin thinks and feels, that he apologizes and expresses regret, that OC is believable and well-rounded, that they both take a chance, and make a decision, not because of a momentary lapse of judgement, but out of genuineness... It's a little treasure! [my review]
✨Bonus! To Give a Helping Hand✨
Idol!Jungkook x f.Reader / Idol AU / smut
He’d be feral with you – he’s feral just thinking about you.
⟢ I don't think this fic needs introductions, and I have reblogged it before, but still, couldn't keep myself from mentioning it again! [my review]
Effet Mer by @spideyjimin
Jungkook x f.Reader / Healing AU / angsty, smut
Hot sex with Jungkook in Nazaré is a combo you never thought you needed.
⟢ There. Is it a spoiler? Potentially. Do you all need to read about what goes down? Absolutely! [my review]
The Price by @daechwitatamic
Yoongi x Hunter!f.Reader / Snow White AU / angst, smut
Maybe you do love him. You just can’t forget - not for a second - how little it matters.
⟢ Unhappy ending? Nonsense! It hurts just a little - just right - just perfect. [my review]
✨Bonus! Of Ruin✨
Prince!Taehyung x f.Reader / Supernatural AU / mystery, fantasy, smut
"Even when I think I’ve seen the true measure of you - you surprise me again and again."
⟢ This is one of the best stories I've ever set my eyes on. It's compelling, rattles you to your bones, and you'll be thinking about it for eons! READ IT! [my review]
The Taste of Sin by @shadowkoo
Taehyung x f.reader / Warlock/Witch AU / angst, smut
This is exactly why they say to never mix business with pleasure. It makes such a mess of things.
⟢ Woah, this was intense! The warnings and things made me approach this with so much caution, only to be swept off my feet! [my review]
Spin Cycle by @miscelunaaa
Jungkook x f.Reader / Uni AU / slow burn, strangers to lovers, smut
He’s never going to complain about a girl having sweater paws while wearing his hoodie.
⟢ I read this by the pool side with a glass of wine and couldn't put it down. It's such an easy, good read! Also, confession: I forgot it had smut! And it's good too! I guess the story just really is that good! [my review]
Lifeline by @downbad4yoongi
Namjoon x f.Reader / First responder AU / brother's bf, smut
I won’t break…but it never hurts to try.
⟢ Wait, hold up, time out - can we just talk about how hot this fic is? But first, let's address how the propelling event of this story is the bane of every woman's existence. [my review]
Protecting the Bloodline by @kth1
Prince!Hoseok x Human!f.Reader / Vampire AU / angst, smut, royal
Little dove… In a world full of twisted beings, how have you turned into such a kind woman?
It's so hard to find words to describe this story... It's both incredibly beautiful and so full of pain, that I just... I'll start by recommending it. [my review]
Vigilant(e) by @yoongihan
Lawyer!Yoongi x Prosecutor!f.Reader / Law AU / angst, smut, secrets
We can’t be casual.
When I started reading this, I had no idea where it was going, but it turned out to be a perfect light read to swoon over Min Yoongi. [my review]
Of Crowns and Daggers by @mrsparkjimin18
Prince!Jiminx Princess!f.Reader / Arranged marriage AU / royal, angst, smut
We’re not so different, you and I.
⟢ I really like royal AUs, but add a sprinkle of plotting, inner conflict, and romance, and the combination is an absolute delight. [my review]
Bewitching by @taegularities
Prince!Jungkook x Human!f.Reader / Vampire AU / angst, smut
I think… falling in love with you was– was inevitable anyway. But the fear…
I blush every time I read this. It's such a perfect blend of deep, maddening love and fear... of overpowering longing... It's achingly gorgeous. [my review]
Jealousy by @mikrokosmoslove
Namjoon x f.Reader / FWB AU / f2l, fwb, angst, smut
Yeah, but that also means it ends when one of us starts dating!
I didn't expect this entry, but when I read it, it automatically clicked for me—fwb is a sweet downward spiral. We all know how it ends and still fall for it every time. [my review]
Timeless Rhythm by @bratzkoo
time lord! hoseok x archaeologist! reader / Adventure AU / mystery, romance, fluff
The rest, as they say, was history. Or perhaps, in your case, it was the future.
Woah, this was so different and refreshing! Going on such adventures always risks the timeline, but we wouldn't have it any other way! [my review]
Wicked As They Come by @caelesjjk
vampire!yoongi x reporter! f reader / Fake dating AU / romance, smut
Don’t forget who you’re talking to with that smart fucking mouth, little monster.
I'm here to discredit this author - this is not just mostly porn - this is mostly awesome porn with a sprinkle of feelings - and our asshole vampire Yoongi doesn't do feelings 😏 [my review]
Safe Haven by @kth1fics
Werewolf!Jimin x Princess!f.Reader / Supernatural AU / royal, shifters, angst, smut
He does the things he does because he loves you.
This story is absolutely endearing, with a perfect sprinkle of sacrifice, lifelong love, and perfectly timed confessions 💜 [my review]
Angel by @sailoryooons
Mafia!Yoongi x Sex worker! F. reader / Mafia AU / Semi-established relationship, smut, fluff
I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself.
As far as Mafia AUs are concerned, this fic is the standard. If I had to choose a top, this would be in the top three, at least. If I had to choose a perfect Yoongi, you know it—this one would be it. [my review]
Fists and a Smart Mouth by @pars-ley
Namjoon x (f)reader / Cowboy au / E2L, angst, smut
I can assure you, I'm more of a 'violence is the answer' type person, in case that wasn't obvious already.
Ouf, this was a hard pick (because all Ley's stories are great), but it was also super easy. Of course, I didn't choose it because it features Namjoon. I chose it because the mystery takes its time to unravel, revealing a gripping plot until the end. [my review]
——✨Bonus! Red thread of fate✨
Vampire!Seokjin x human!(f)reader / Soulmates au / Angst, fluff, smut
Does listening to my heart not make you thirsty?
It's not often that a vampire fic delves not only into themes of fate but also into selfless, boundless love, and this story is one of those with an interesting catch within it. [my review]
Alpha by @borathae
Alpha Dom!Jungkook x f. Omega sub!Reader / ABO au / E2L, angst, smut
We really shouldn’t be doing this, fuck, this shouldn’t happen.
Step aside while I shamelessly drool all over this piece of indulgent heaven. [my review]
——✨Bonus! Bonded✨
Alpha Dom!Jungkook x f. Omega sub!Reader / Arranged Marriage au / E2L, angst, smut
I just needed to know that this wouldn’t be lost forever.
The way I consumed this sequel. When I finished reading Alpha, I didn't know what could happen next, and this direction surprised me. [my review]
The Surface by @moni-logues
prince merman!Hoseok x sea witch!reader / The Little Mermaid AU / angst, smut
You could bend reality, but that didn’t mean you always saw it clearly. The heart had tricks of its own.
Can you imagine how excited I was when I saw a Little Mermaid retelling? And then realized I'd be the sea witch? Fuck yeah! [my review]
Saudade by @chateautae
idol!taehyung x choreographer!reader / Secret relationship AU / angst, smut
I was doing it for you! The reason was all for you, for us!
It's always interesting for me when authors use words native to me to describe feelings that are not translatable - like saudade. So yes, I had to read what Taehyung was up to, and I was not disappointed [my review]
The Creamed Pie by @moccahobi
Succubi!Seokjin x human!reader / Demon AU / slow burn, angst, fluff
If you're trying to live like a human, you're failing.
This story is such a spark of fun! Everything, from the lore to the characters, the relationships, the name of the shop, the quips and the way it doesn't take itself seriously -- until it does. [my review]
——✨Bonus! Amor Erratur✨
Yoongi x reader / Dystopian AU / angst
Oh how he would love to be married to her.
This story is set in a dystopian world, and it is so out of the ordinary and unique not just because of the world-building but because of Yoongi. [my review]
Seven Days by @hisunshiine
nurse!jungkook x teacher!reader / FWB AU / age gap, angst, smut
Every hour, every minute, every second, he’s in love with you.
As soon as I read the summary, not only did I think it was a clever idea for a series and someone had to do it, but I also knew I'd end up feeling very personally about it. [my review]
Oath in the Moonlight by @jamaisjoons
crown prince!namjoon x cursed maiden!reader / Soulmates AU / fantasy, angst, smut
Because I no longer want just one night. Not if it’s with you.
This is such a rich, fulfilling story, with captivating worldbuilding, dramatic twists, and lots of love. [my review]
Christmas Fix by @yoonia
Taehyung x (f)Reader / Secret Baby!au / S2L, angst, smut, Christmas fic
I suppose this is what people call a Christmas miracle.
I had to leave the most Christmassy fic I've read for the end. Leave it to none other than the Queen to make a new classic filled with drama and plot twists.[my review]
Down Bad by me 💜
Vampire!Jimin x human(f)reader / Soulmate AU / angst, smut
Kissing you was not on the agenda, and it threw him off. How the fuck was he supposed to let go of you now?
I can't review my own fic, but this is my gift to you 🥰🎁✨
#bts fanfic#advent calendar#bts#bts x reader#bts fic recs#bts fic recommendations#bts fluff#bts angst#bts smut#fanfiction recommendation#ff recs#ff recommendations#recommendations masterlist#recommendation 💎#jungkook recs#jimin recs#taehyung recs#hoseok recs#namjoon recs#yoongi recs#jin recs#fic advent calendar 2024
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it's important to have a time loop code phrase, something that if someone says "I'm in a time loop, you have to believe me!" you tell them the code so on their next loop they say the code and you believe them.
Thing is your codes are weak and easily guessed or circumvented by tricksters and pranksters alike.
It needs to be a multi-factor authentication cipher that you never explain or you'll only get to share each code once or someone comes up to you and says a thing and you wonder if you posted online about it at some point.
I recommend a word and date based equation combo. Like mine for today could be "Snake 3443" because today is 10/24/2023 so 10+24 20+23 = 3443.
Of course, now I've told you that I have to change my equation cipher.
It's wise to add in a third factor by day of the week and add some "you'd only know this if I told you in a time loop scenario" kind of thing.
You may think that is a lot of plates to keep spinning but I want you to keep your eye on the prize and think of the unhinged look on your friends face as they approach you for in their perspective is the twelve billionth time as they say "Snake 3443, Mittens on the 4th floor, Tuesday is Jazz Day and if the current minute of the day is an odd number it's Pineapple and if it's even it's anchovy. I hate you and I wish we weren't friends, no that's not part of the password but do you have any idea how frustrating it is to do this every single fucking day and I promise there is no question you can possibly ask me that will make you believe me any further so can we just get on with this?"
It's worth it. Trust me.
I know.
#camden posting#shitposting#time loop#shit I think about when I'm bored#let's do the time loop again
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i'll be the sun // taesan

The last person Taesan - the leader of the school band - expected to bond over music with was you, the head of the Maths club.
➳ Characters: high school senior!Taesan x high school senior!female reader/you
➳ Genre: high school au, rich kids au, slow burn, coming of age, fluff, some real-life bittersweet parts
➳ Words: 8.1k
➳ Warning: mentions of parental pressure, insecurities, reader had a fall-out with her ex best friend, crying
➳ A/N: This story had the most votes in my recent poll, so here it is! I had a lot of fun writing it because music, Taesan and slow burn stories are a good combo.
This is also a spin-off to my Leehan story, but you don't have to read that one to understand Taesan's part
➳ Dedicated to: @dat-town ❤️
➳ Check out the KOZ International High series masterpost!
You couldn't say that you were looking forward to senior year to start. Moreso, you were looking forward to it to end.
After all, if it was over, you would be over your exams, and if the exams were over, you would be closer to your dream university. Until then, all the assignments seemed daunting, all the extracurricular activities seemed bothersome, and all the tests seemed life-changing. The last thing you expected was to fall in love along the way, but alas, life had a funny way to change your plans.
It all started on a Tuesday. At least, for you, it did.
Since you were the head of the Maths club, you left school later on Tuesdays because that's when you had your weekly club activity. After wrapping things up, you usually stayed behind to print out some more materials for next week and to organise the ones you collected. You also cleaned out the classroom you booked since the cleaning lady usually cleaned the basement during your time slot, not after.
So it was well past 7PM when you made your way back to the homeroom to pick up your PE bag because you didn't want to drag it with you all the way to the basement. You had some books left on your desk either way.
You stepped inside the classroom mindlessly, but you stopped dead in your tracks when you caught sight of someone already there. Taesan was leaning against his seat in the last row, playing on his guitar and bobbing his head to a song with his earphones in. He turned towards the windows with half of his body, so he didn't see you coming in. You noticed that he also closed his eyes while he was playing.
You weren't afraid of Taesan's reaction as per se, but he seemed like he was in his own bubble, and you didn't want to burst it. Alas, you had to get your bag and books, so you tiptoed into the classroom, hoping that the boy wouldn’t hear you moving.
You scooped up your books and threw the sports bag over your shoulder, and not until you turned around, did you realise that you knew the song Taesan was playing. You knew it all too well, and the momentary realisation made you halt just in time for Taesan to open his eyes and take in your presence. He removed his earphones and gazed at you - a bit tentative, but mostly curious.
For a moment, you had no idea how to react. The boy was as unbothered as you were, but there was still some awkwardness lingering in the air, not because it was embarrassing to be in the classroom with someone you didn’t usually talk with, but because you two were very different students on the verge of adulthood, and it was awkward to get caught up in a situation like this.
Not to mention that it felt a bit like déjavu, the flashback from the summer class trip pulling you back to reality.
“It was ‘I Don’t Love You’, right?” You found yourself asking, holding onto the straps of your sports bag to hold onto anything, except the memory from that night during the class trip.
Something flashed in Taesan’s eyes, and you knew immediately that you were right, though there was no reason to deny it. Even though Taesan was the leader of the school band, thus he knew quite a lot about the technical parts of making music, you had never heard him make a comment on anyone’s music taste. What he thought internally was a different question.
“Do you listen to MCR?” He quirked an eyebrow, and still, there was no malice in his voice. If anything, his interest was piqued.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Cool. Me too,” he bobbed his head casually, and you were about to say that you had a feeling that he did since he was playing the band’s song when the cleaning lady marched into the classroom, and made her presence very much known with her high-pitched exclamation:
“What are you doing here at this hour, kids? Go home!”
You heard Taesan scoff behind you, but you didn’t object. You both packed up your stuff and headed out of the classroom, the now empty corridor filled with the cacophony of your footsteps. As far as you could remember, you had never walked side by side with Taesan like this. You had very different interests, he had his own friend group and well… you didn’t, so your interactions were limited to strictly school-related things like group projects, helping out the boy with a Maths task, and being sat beside each other on a class trip.
Yet, it seemed that you now had something to talk about, and Taesan took advantage of that.
“What’s your favourite MCR song?”
You didn’t even have to think twice about the answer.
“ ‘Teenagers’. You might find it funny, but whenever I step foot into the school, this song comes to mind,” you shared with him as you craned your head to look up at him, just in time to catch an amused smile playing along his lips. You had a feeling you didn’t need to tell him why, all those teenagers at school really did scare you sometimes. “What about you?”
“My favourite one is ‘I Don’t Love You’, but since you recognised it, you must know it already,” he answered a bit shyly, scratching the back of his neck as if he was embarrassed.
It was a new sight for you since Taesan was usually straightforward and confident, someone who seemed to be totally at ease with himself. You sometimes envied the way he carried himself; so coolly as if nothing could bother him, and as if he knew exactly what he wanted to do with his life. When you looked into the mirror, all you could see was anxiety and question marks floating around your head, and even though you thought you would gain some confidence from being a straight-A student, it did just the opposite. It fuelled your insecurities even more.
You directed a half-smile at the boy, not sure what to do with his reaction, and kept walking towards the entrance on the ground floor. Taesan inquired what kind of artists you listened to other than MCR, and he seemed so excited to talk about his favourite ones that he barely realised that he was waiting with you at the wrong bus stop. You knew that he usually went home with the bus departing from the stop opposite yours because having no friends anymore meant that you were observant like that.
“Oh sorry, I have to go,” he excused himself when you pointed out that his bus was coming. “See you tomorrow!” He bid his farewell while already running towards the vehicle, his guitar case rhythmically hitting his side and his school bag sliding down his right shoulder.
You watched him leave and take a seat on the bus while panting, his hair dishevelled, his tie loose around his neck. He was so different from you who knew the whole bus timetable by heart, never ever even ran after a bus, and always kept herself in check. However, as he caught you staring and gave you a little wave of his hand, you realised that deep down, you wished to be more like him.
And what was sad about it was that you knew that the only one holding you back from being more like him was actually you.
With the third week of the new term starting came the announcement of the random draw for the annual sports’ day. KOZ International High’s sports’ day was your school’s version of ISAC, and even though you were all coming from influential families and all the students had probably enough money to attend the Olympics games in the VIP section, no one complained about the event. In fact, it was all the school magazine and school radio could talk about for almost two months, and everyone tried to put effort into practising for their own games to not lose face.
Each year, all the classes participated in four different categories - mixed 4 x 100 m relay, archery, swimming and dance -, going up against one another within each year. The only category that allowed students to sign up for was dance as only groups could participate, and they needed to be formed in time to seem somewhat professional. Each year, this was the competition everyone was looking forward to the most since usually professional dancers signed up - like Baekseung, Minwoo and Haruto who always won the dance category in your year.
For all the other categories, there was a random draw during homeroom where your teacher announced who should be participating in which category. For freshman and sophomore year, you had been selected for swimming, last year for archery, and this year, you were asked to do the mixed relay with Millie, Pierre and Taesan. Which wouldn’t have been a problem if Pierre hadn’t insisted on making a groupchat for you all and having practice sessions each week to prepare for the sports day at the end of October.
“We can practise in our own free time. I don’t understand why we should all be gathering in one place each week,” you pointed out matter-of-factly when you had your first “team meeting” on the day of the draw.
“Because it’s about team spirit, you know? You might feel more motivated to run your part if you can see others cheering you on,” Pierre pointed out with unnecessarily grand hand gestures, and you needed to hold yourself back from rolling your eyes. However, you caught Taesan watching him with an unamused stare, and the sight made you feel less edgy.
“Besides, we need to practise giving each other the baton. I’ve heard that it can make or break a team’s performance,” Millie chirped in, looking up from her phone on which she was typing up until this moment.
This was exactly the reason you had enjoyed doing archery and swimming for the past 3 years. You had been alone with no team to weigh you down or ask you for unnecessary team meetings. You had practised in your own time at your own pace, problem solved. However, the first obstacle came already when you realised that there was not a single day during the week when you could all be free after classes.
“Can’t you just change the time for your band or club activity?” Pierre asked Taesan and you because you two had your extracurriculars on the same day, the only day when Millie and Pierre would be available.
“No.”
“No way,” you said at the exact same time as Taesan did, and you exchanged a glance, knowing all too well what those Tuesday after-school hours meant to both of you.
“Well, can’t you schedule your family dinner for the weekend, Millie?” Pierre tried again, and the deadly glare she got from the British girl was more than enough to shut him up. Even though none of you had a scheduled weekly family dinner, you knew how it was with rich families: studies and family came first, anything else second.
You brought your notebook closer to your face to examine your notes, and tried to calculate which day could work for everyone. Apparently, none did, so you came up with a different idea:
“Why don’t we practise in pairs? Since you and Millie are free on Tuesday afternoons, you can practise then. Taesan and I are free on Thursday afternoons, we can do it then.”
“But then it won’t be the saaaaame,” Millie pouted as if she had been told something awful, to which Taesan said dryly:
“That’s the only option.”
That managed to convince the two of them, and after a few more minutes of painfully cringe team spirit quotes, you could go on your own way. You immediately bolted off, having had enough of this nonsense, but Taesan fell in step with you, and asked if Thursday was really okay with you.
“Yeah, it’s fine. I just don’t want to sacrifice too much time for this, so maybe 30 minutes will do?”
“I was just about to suggest that,” Taesan nodded, a lopsided smile invading his lips, and it felt so easy, so light to talk to him that it actually surprised you. For a second too long, you watched that smile bloom on his lips, and for the first time in four years, you took in the boy’s pitch-black locks that sat messily on top of his head, his equally dark almond-shaped eyes, the defined features of his that were becoming more prominent by the day the closer he got to adulthood, and there was his lanky built, too…
Taesan caught you staring, and you immediately averted your eyes to the mess of the corridor around you instead of the boy’s face because for the first time, it felt scary to feel so light beside someone.
Pierre was very much not the leader type, but he could complain and spam the group chat with gifs of idols running (and failing sometimes). You didn't know what he was doing with all those hagwon classes he claimed to have which made your 4-member practices not work out because you all had hagwon after school, but he was chronically online. You noticed that from the class group chat either way, but it was different when there were only four of you this time and one of them was Taesan, the other one you - the two students who rather focused on their own duties, not this particular group chat.
It was all what students talked about though. Haruto chirped everyone's ears off about their (supposedly jaw-dropping) choreography, Leehan couldn't stop pouting that he and the class president didn't get selected for running, so that they could be in the same team - since they had officially started dating after the summer trip -, and the usual banter between classes started about who would win. This year, Anton - the national swimming champion - didn't get selected for swimming unlike last year, so even that would be an unpredictable competition for the boys.
Honestly, you weren't one for running, but it was something that you could enjoy at times because it helped you concentrate on something other than school. Other times, running around the field wasn't enough to take your mind off the deliberating amount of school work. Especially not when your ex best-friend, Selina, showed up on the field to practise the choreography she and two other girls had come up with for the dance competition.
It was like she was a completely new person - wearing a noticeable amount of make-up instead of her usual no make-up make-up, trying out dancing that she had never dared before and hanging out with girls she had claimed to not particularly like -, and it hurt to see that. Not because you felt envious because of the 180-turn of hers, but because she had said on that one night during the summer trip that she was sick of feeling like second place beside you.
Just because you usually performed better than she did, you had never ever looked at her like a competition, like a charity case. What's more, you enjoyed studying together with her because you were around the same level. Even though your mother cared about your 2nd place at school (after the class president who was always 1st), you had never cared about Selina's 3rd or 4th place.
Clearly, she felt differently.
"Is everything okay?" Taesan's raspy yet gentle voice brought you back to reality, and you immediately turned your head towards him.
"Yeah. Everything's fine," you answered, though you could feel how uncertain the words sounded. How feeble you sounded. "I just... I think it's enough for me for today," you announced, looking down at your wristwatch that indicated that you had started running only 10 minutes ago. You were nowhere near the end of your usual 30-minute session.
"That's fine. I don't really feel like doing it anymore today," the boy shrugged nonchalantly, and you wondered if it was true, or if he was just trying to make you feel better. Either way, you felt grateful for his cool attitude, and went to the changing room without as much as looking back at Selina and the two other girls.
After you got changed and grabbed your stuff, you still found yourself walking towards the windows that were overlooking the school field. Selina did seem a bit awkward, her limbs not catching up with the rhythm, but you couldn't tell whether she actually enjoyed it or not, and that was what gawked at you. The fact that it had been mere months, and you already couldn't tell how she was feeling. Were you always this bad at recognising her feelings? Was this why you had never noticed her feeling like she was someone less worthy than you? Was she right? Had you really made everyone feel insignificant around you?
Something broke in you at the thought, and you found yourself breathless for a moment, holding onto the windowsill for support. You felt tears pricking your eyes, but you were too preoccupied with the tightness of your chest to care. You tried so hard to hold it back, to hold your feelings back ever since the term started that you believed that you could do it without breaking down.
Turns out you were wrong.
"Hey, Y/N! What's wrong?"
Even though Taesan was only a few steps away, his voice felt like it was coming from many miles away. You didn’t look up at him, you didn’t dare to because you didn’t want him to see your tears. Have you ever achieved anything by crying? No. Just more humiliation and more disapproving words from your parents.
“Gosh, this is so embarrassing,” you mumbled, hoping that Taesan would just leave. On the other hand, Taesan didn’t budge for a few seconds, but then, he gently directed you to the closest room and closed the door behind you two.
Suddenly, you were surrounded by the smell of leather and there was this unmistakable smell of a storage room coming from all the different types of sports equipment you used for PE classes. You had rarely been here before since it was usually the class-president and vice-president who had the duty to collect the equipment for class, but it was quiet, and there were no curious eyes around, just Taesan’s concerned ones.
You were waiting - no, anticipating would be a better word - for the boy to speak up, to tell you to stop crying, but he stood there, looking up from under his long eyelashes, orbs shining worriedly. He then reached into the pocket of his bag and reached out a few crumpled yet clean tissues.
His gesture just made everything hurt tenfold.
“Why aren’t you telling me that it’s indeed embarrassing, and to stop crying?” You inquired, confused, eyeing the tissues in his hands. The boy looked taken aback by your question at first, eyes furrowed, creases deeping on his forehead, before his features smoothened out, softened to a gentle degree.
“I can’t tell you how you should feel. If that’s how you feel, I don’t have the right to go against it, but personally I don’t feel embarrassed by the sight of you crying,” he confessed so genuinely, so honestly that you teared up immediately. It was like something awakened inside of you, a part of you that you had hidden so deep that now that it surfaced, it felt unfamiliar and wrong.
You reached for the tissues to dry your eyes, but the tears just kept falling, and somewhere along the way, accompanied by your pained sobs, you found yourself telling Taesan the story behind your argument with Selina. He had been there at the peak of it anyway - just trying to tell you and your ex-best friend that you could come down for the bonfire, but Selina hadn’t heard him behind her and kept on going. She had told you that you had been a terrible friend for not feeling sorry for her when she had always been a worse student than you, and that you didn’t see that you made everyone feel insignificant beside you, that’s why you had only her.
It had started so innocently, not even an argument, just talking about your senior year, but it spiralled down way too quickly, you had just stood there, listening to the girl you had called your best friend for 3 years tell you everything as if you had forced her to bottle things up. Back then, you had been too shocked to react in any way other than numbing your feelings, but now it all burst out. It was ugly, it was messy, but it was also very human, and Taesan didn’t say a derogatory word, he hummed at times to indicate that he was listening, but let you speak freely.
Which was odd, and at first, you didn’t even know what to do with it. Usually, your parents stopped you when you started complaining, and said that you shouldn’t overreact things. However, he didn’t interrupt you even when you were searching for words or blowing out your nose between sobs. He also kept giving you tissues, though he ran out of them after a while, and tucked his hands into the back pocket of his jeans to cover up his awkwardness.
By that time, you were feeling better but also worse. You were lighter than minutes ago, but you were also very, very tired. Maybe holding everything back was actually more exhausting than letting everything out in time.
“Thank you.”
You let the words hang between you two, let Taesan ruminate over it, but he just nodded as if it was nothing, and said with all the confidence in the world:
“Anytime.”
You couldn’t tell if it was intentional or accidental, but after a while, you and Taesan started walking towards the bus stop together on Tuesdays after both of you wrapped up your extracurricular activities. You talked about school to a certain extent, but more often than not, you exchanged song recommendations, sharing not just your favourite ones, but explaining which part was your favourite and why. Taesan was obviously more eloquent when it came to music, but he was always interested to hear your opinion, and didn’t put you down even if the best you could mutter sometimes was that the song made you feel something, though you couldn’t tell what.
You also had your relay practices on Thursday afternoons, and after the first two relatively quiet sessions, you developed the habit of cheering for the other when you measured your time, to see how much you improved. Pierre and Millie did the same, sharing their records with you in the groupchat, so that you could decide in which order you would be running at the event. It was going well, and even though it was exhausting to do this on top of schoolwork, at least you were with Taesan, not Pierre. Sharing silence with Taesan didn’t feel awkward, but you were sure that it would have felt horrible with Pierre.
September passed some lingering sunshine onto October, but as the weather turned colder, you chose to run in the gym hall instead of outside on the sports field. That day, Anton and Jungwon were practising archery together while you were running, but you were the first two to leave with Taesan.
You had heard that it would rain that day, so you had packed an umbrella with you, and how smart of you! You noted that it was indeed pouring inside while walking from the changing room to the entrance of the school. Your steps echoed the way the raindrops were hitting the ground on the other side of the big windows, a constant, never-ending melody. Drip drop, drip drop, step by step, step by step…
You halted only when you pushed the front door open, and found Taesan leaning onto a pillar, his hands tucked into the pockets of his pants. The tip of his Converse shoes was not fully covered by the roof he was standing under, thus, it got dotted with raindrops. He didn’t seem to notice. He did notice you though, and snapped his head back when he heard you take a few steps towards him.
“Are you waiting for someone?” You inquired casually. Not many of you commuted by public transport because most students lived in the student halls on campus. As it was an international high school, and the school attracted talent from all over the world, there were always enough rooms to accommodate every single student if they wished to make use of them. However, since you were from Seoul, and your parents liked to keep an eye on you during term time, you commuted, but it wasn’t bad, only a 25-minute bus ride.
On the other hand, you had always seen Taesan take the bus, so you wondered if it was different this time. Or maybe he was just trying to wait out the rain.
“Ah no,” he shook his head. “I just stopped to check my messages,” he held up the phone in his hand, and you nodded. He scratched the back of his neck, looking up at you with those big, affectionate eyes, and some icy part of your heart melted, drops of water accumulating around it like the puddles on the ground.
“Do you want to walk together? I have an umbrella,” you offered as you pointed at the big black umbrella in your left hand. Taesan looked at it, then back at you, and his lips curled upwards ever so slightly. From him though, that curve was equal to a grin.
So you opened your umbrella, holding it so that it would cover the boy who was taller than you, and it meant that you instinctively started leaning towards him. It didn’t go unnoticed by him, not when your shoulder bumped into his as you came to a halt at a crossroads. You exchanged a gaze, something that you broke almost immediately because you were sure that your face was flushed. You usually didn’t have a problem with closeness like this, but with him, it was different. It was somewhat more intimate.
“Your shoulder is getting wet,” he pointed out when he averted his eyes to your left shoulder, and caught sight of the raindrops sitting on your autumnal coat.
“It’s nothing, really.”
“Let me…” He mumbled as he reached for the handle, and you let him hold the umbrella over you two instead. He was taller either way, you decided, but then you saw that it was his shoulder that got rained on because he was holding it over you way more than he did it over himself.
“Gosh, you aren’t any better,” you huffed, not letting it slide. You grabbed the handle of the umbrella, but Taesan didn’t let go, so you just stood there, staring at each other in beautiful agony, your hands touching. Your heart fluttering, heat reaching your cheeks, you yanked your hand away, but stepped closer to the boy instead. “See, we can fit under it if we stand close enough to each other.”
“Is it close enough now?” He quirked an eyebrow, and there was a twitch in the corner of his mouth. You couldn’t decide whether there was a teasing edge to his words or a flirtatious one, and you weren’t sure which one would be better.
You gulped, looking away, and noticed the traffic lights turning green. Hence, you prompted the boy to start walking, so you could fall in step with him. He shook his head, and you swore there was an amused smile playing along his lips, but you were too focused on your own thumping heart to care.
You asked Taesan for a new song recommendation if he had any, and you shared one of your new favourite songs, too. It was ‘Beaches’ by beabadoobee, and for some reason, this song reminded you of the times you spent with the boy: light-hearted, reassuring, comforting. Like the first signs of spring - awakening, blooming, bringing warmth - after a long winter.
Of course, you didn’t tell him that, just that you liked the lyrics and the instrumentals used, but you were curious about his opinion. That’s what you did after all: sharing song recs, the other jotting it down in their notes app, listening to it and sharing their opinion on it either the next time you met in person or via Kakaotalk. This way, you always had something to look forward to in your days, and it was like a little safe haven from all the studying.
For the first time in forever, you didn’t even go through the timetable in your head to calculate when your bus would be coming, you only noticed it when it was already there.
“See you tomorrow,” Taesan said as he handed the umbrella back to you, and you found yourself smiling at his words. How reassuring it was to know that you would be meeting the next day as well.
“See you tomorrow,” you echoed with a lighter heart, watching while he was running to the other side of the road to hide from the rain under the bus stop’s shelter.
It was odd how your perception of Taesan could change in a matter of weeks. You felt a certain kind of fondness towards him now that you couldn't really put your hand on because you had never felt this way before, but you wanted only good things for him. You really wished he could become a musician one day because he truly deserved it. His band 'Insomnia' already uploaded covers onto Youtube, and had a fair share of views, and you liked to indulge yourself in their videos more often than you would admit. Even though all of them were very talented - Jungwon on the drums, Gyuvin on the synthesiser, Yechan and Taesan on the guitar -, your attention always gravitated towards Taesan and his voice. His voice was similar to his personality: multiple layered with many unexpected charms and softness hidden behind that edgy tone of his.
Though Taesan once inquired if you heard their songs and you admitted that you did, you thought that it wasn't that big of a deal. Most girls - and even guys - at school listened to them because they were fairly popular. Though Leehan was the most popular boy in your year, followed by Yechan with his jokester personality and ever-growing Youtube channel, the other members of the band also had their fair share of popularity. Then, there was Anton who was a national swimming champion, so naturally, everybody knew him, but he didn't really let his presence be known outside of the swimming pool, so it was a quiet kind of fame in his case.
Not that popularity really mattered in your eyes, but you found it somewhat heart fluttering that Taesan would be interested in your opinion regarding their band, and your conversations didn't stop even after the sports day when you came in second with your team. Only Pierre made a ruckus about it though, you and Taesan merely exchanged high-fives, and agreed that you were glad that it was over.
However, you didn't think that the boy would one day ask you if you wanted to hear a snippet of a song he was working on.
“Sure. If you don't mind,” you told him after a few seconds of silence while you were contemplating whether he was serious about asking for your opinion.
“It's not finished yet, I'm still trying to see what direction it should go in, but I'm curious what you think about it,” he explained as he brought his earphones out of his pocket, plugged it into his phone, tapped something on the screen and reached it out to you.
It was just you and him in the classroom as usual on Tuesdays, Taesan sitting in the seat behind yours. You turned around to face him, reluctantly grabbing his earphones and putting them into your ears. There was just something so intimate about this gesture of his: sharing his own song idea with you and sharing his own earphones with you that you needed to pacify your crazily beating heart to actually hear the song.
The snippet that you heard seemed to be the beginning of a love song, and the first thing that came to your mind was how cosy it was, and how easy it was to listen to it. It was something different from Insomnia’s usually punk-rock heavy songs, but the instrumentals were still there, just softer. Like how he had been acting around you despite his seemingly colder facade. The lyrics were about keeping ‘you’ in their memories, and promising to protect ‘you’ which sent a chill down your spine because for a moment, it felt like he was really singing to you.
Taesan kept his eyes on his phone's screen to see where the recording was at, so he immediately looked up when the song finished. He quirked an eyebrow in question while you took out the earphones.
“So…” He cleared his throat before continuing, albeit rather reluctantly. “How did you like it?”
“I liked it, I really did. It was softer than the songs you usually play, but I liked this side of you,” you remarked with a gentle smile, and something caught in his eyes which made you falter. If he was more shocked or just intrigued, you couldn't tell, but you... you were horrified. “I mean, this side of your music... uhmm... your music style.”
You were sure that you were blushing like crazy because how could that have just slipped out? Gosh, this was so embarrassing…
“But I would have made the beginning part a bit longer, so that it could stand out a bit more,” you added, hoping to save yourself from further embarrassment.
You averted your eyes to the desk instead of his face, so you couldn't tell how he reacted, but he jotted down your opinion nevertheless.
“Thanks. I was actually thinking of changing up that part, so thanks for reinforcing that idea.”
You dared to look up at him at this time, and there was this soft smile playing along his lips that made your stomach do somersaults. It was so rare to see him smile like that, and when you were the reason for it, all of your tenseness regarding your own actions melted away.
“Actually, I wanted to show you this song because…”
“Is it you two again?” Came the cleaning lady's indignant voice from the classroom door, and you both snapped your heads back to look at her. Hands on her hips, eyebrows furrowed, the elderly woman didn't seem too happy to find you two in the classroom after 7 o’ clock yet again.
You had to suffer through a few more reprimanding sentences of hers while you were packing up your stuff to leave. Once outside of the school, you asked Taesan what he was trying to say before.
“Ah nevermind,” he shrugged, looking away, and you didn't push him to tell you.
So you continued your walk to the bus stop like always, as if nothing happened, as if he hadn't just showed you a song that could make you question your own feelings towards him, and ultimately, his own feelings towards you.
On Tuesdays, it was usually you who finished sooner, and Taesan was already in the classroom by the time you made your way back there. Not this time though.
You managed to bump into the whole band when you walked out of the room you booked for the Maths club. Unbeknownst to you, you halted in front of the four boys, your eyes darting between Taesan and the rest of the guys.
“Oh hey, Y/N!” Yechan cheered excitedly, grinning widely. You reciprocated his greeting and his smile, holding the notebook and the folder you used to your chest.
“Done with the Maths club for today?” Gyuvin inquired, and you immediately confirmed that you did, but then you realised that he didn’t necessarily have to know what you were doing there. After all, if it hadn’t been for Taesan, you wouldn’t have known that Insomnia was practising on Tuesdays at this time around.
“How do you know that?”
“Oh well,” the boy boasted a childish grin, gazing at Taesan from time to time to signal his answer to you, but the head of the school band appeared nonchalant. “Somebody did tell us about it.”
“Not even just once, but multiple times,” Jungwon chimed in, sharing the boys’ teasing, and you had to sniffle a giggle at Taesan’s reaction. The boy tried so hard to seem totally unaffected by the obvious callout, but he was avoiding your eyes, chewing on his lower lip, his hands flying to the back of his neck to scratch it. Something that he did when he was ever so scarcely embarrassed.
“I see,” you hummed knowingly, amused by the guys’ little display of playfulness before Yechan smacked his head.
“Oh guys, I think we need somewhere to be! You know, the thing I told you about before practice…” He announced out of the blue, and even though a flash of surprise crossed Gyuvin’s face, he recovered quickly, and both him and Jungwon acted like they knew exactly what he was talking about. Taesan, on the other hand, seemed awfully perplexed with his furrowed eyebrows and forehead creases.
“Now let’s go, let’s not waste any time. See you at school tomorrow, Taesan! And Y/N, of course,” Yechan hollered before exiting the scene, followed by the grinning Gyuvin and a smiling Jungwon who looked like he came straight out of a toothpaste commercial.
You watched them leave with a light-hearted smile, then looked at the boy in front of you who seemed awfully nervous. It was vastly different to who he really was - the usually cool and composed Han Taesan, the leader of Insomnia, someone who had never lost his patience before. Now, he seemed like a lost kitten who couldn’t find their way around an alley, and the thought made your lips curve upwards.
“Heading to the bus stop?” You asked matter-of-factly, hoping to ease the slight awkwardness in the air.
Taesan’s shoulders visibly dropped when he caught your gaze, and he was about to open his mouth, but closed it in the end. You quirked an eyebrow, suddenly confused by his gesture, but then he spoke up:
“Actually, do you remember that song of mine I showed you last time? Do you want to hear the final version? I finished it yesterday,” he suggested casually, but there was a hint of doubt lacing his words. On the other hand, you couldn’t have been more sure of an answer, so you nodded, and followed him into the practise room they usually occupied.
Even though the room already boasted many musical instruments, the boy got his guitar out of his case with as much elegance as only a well-practised artist could. After setting it up, so that he could play comfortably, he started playing the song from last time. He did work on making the beginning of the song longer, and there were parts that he changed a bit, but overall, it had the same cosy vibe. The lyrics were also extended, him singing that he wanted to be a hero, an angel or whatever you wanted to call someone you could lean on to ‘you’, and when the words left his mouth, a pleasant shiver ran down your spine.
You were totally caught up in your feelings - as if the melody wrapped you up, and you were just spinning inside the hurricane of his, going round and round with each passing second. There was nothing else around you, just him and the song. It felt a bit like you were in your own world, something that just the two of you had, that’s why the silence that followed the last accords felt so striking.
Taesan put his guitar to the side after he finished, and you found yourself clapping instinctively. You didn’t think too much into the gesture, but the boy was fighting a smile, and eventually failed. A beautiful, grateful smile blossomed in its wake.
“Before you ask, I liked it a lot. It felt light and comforting,” you admitted before asking about the inspiration behind the song because you were genuinely curious about it. He had mentioned before that a lot of his songs were inspired by books, movies and stories he heard from others, so you wondered if it was the same this time as well.
His eyes widened a bit hearing your question, and for a moment, you thought that you asked something intimate. Then, he sucked in a deep breath before confessing:
“It was inspired by you.”
“By me?” You repeated, exasperated.
“Yeah. I started working on it after I saw you crying that day,” he started, and even though his voice didn’t waver, you could feel that he wasn’t completely confident in his answer. “I don’t think I was the best at reassuring you back then, so I wrote this song because this is what I wanted to say then. I’m just not really good with words, you see,” he let out a little, somewhat ashamed giggle by the end, averting his eyes from your face to the strand of cotton he was currently picking on his pants.
You were speechless for a few seconds, digesting his words - or rather his confession. You were convinced that he had been the best kind of reassurance he could have been at the time, and you appreciated that he had listened to you, that he had told you that you could feel however you wanted, he wasn’t embarrassed by the sight of you crying, and then there had been his crumpled tissues, too.
The reason you didn’t mind spending time with him, rather, you felt comforted by his presence was because of that night: because he had seen you at such a low point, he had heard your sob story regarding Selina, and he hadn’t turned his back on you. Not out of pity because Taesan would be the last person who would do something like that out of pity, but because he truly wanted to get to know you better.
“I… I think you did enough back then. I was the one who felt ashamed because I thought I said too much, and I didn’t want to open up to someone in case…” In case they would leave you like Selina did. In case they felt insignificant, and called you a horrible person. In case they broke your heart just enough to make you never want to lend it to another person, ever again.
Taesan hummed, playing with his fingers resting in his lap before finding your eyes, and he gave you that soft smile that you were so grateful to see on him.
“You don’t have to worry about that. As I’ve said in the song, you can lean on me,” he reassured you gently, and everything ceased to exist in that moment, even time itself. It felt like your heart - that had not been thumping before - now beat for the very first time, awakening from its deep, deep sleep.
And you welcomed this warm, fuzzy feeling inside your chest with open arms.
To be honest, you were scared of this newfound feeling at first. It was as if everything was so easy, so natural. Nothing ever felt forced with Taesan. Sometimes you had lunch together at the canteen, sometimes you didn’t. Sometimes you stopped by each other’s desk in the morning to talk, sometimes you didn’t. Sometimes he asked you to help him with a Maths problem, sometimes you talked about anything but school.
On top of that, you were scared of this feeling because of the timing as well. Senior year seemed like the worst possible time to fall in love. However, after a while, you couldn’t deny it. You tried, you really did try to push these feelings aside, and Taesan was gentle enough to not push you for an answer. Even though he hadn’t confessed as per se, you highly doubted that a song like his would be inspired by someone who was just a friend.
As time went by, Christmas break rolled around, and you didn’t see him for some time. Then, he didn’t show up at school the following week because he had come down with a cold or so you were told by Leehan. So the next time you saw him, you had every reason to be looking forward to seeing him, and it was just your luck that it was a Tuesday as well, so you were more than sure that you would leave the school together.
You were right, but as you were leaving the building, you stopped the boy, and reached a knitted wool scarf out to him, something that matched his dark winter coat. Taesan eyed it for a few seconds before you broke it down to him:
“It’s for you. I wouldn’t have to give you one if you just got yourself a scarf, especially after being sick last week,” you told him, and you realised that you were almost reprimanding him. How could you not though? He was still not wearing a scarf, and it was freezing cold now.
“It was just a cold,” he justified, but there was an amused smile in the corner of his lips. Mind you, this was not a usual behaviour from you, but last week, you had enough time to ponder about his whereabouts before asking Leehan. Because apparently, it was embarrassing to tell you through Kakaotalk that he was sick, so you had to ask his best friend.
“Still, I was worried when you didn’t show up on Monday.”
“Oh, so you were worried about me?” He raised an eyebrow, playfully leaning closer to you while grabbing the scarf. For a few seconds, you two just stared at each other, stared into each other’s eyes, and it was so easy to get lost in those deep, dark galaxies. Then, you willed yourself to tear your gaze away, and pushed the scarf into his hands once and for all, a bit more forcefully than you intended.
“This is not funny, Taesan. I just don’t want you to get sick again, okay? I couldn’t help but worry about you last week, and I’ve missed spending time with you, so if you don’t want to skip out on that, I suggest you take that scarf and dress warmly.”
“You missed spending time with me?” Taesan repeated, the playfulness slowly leaving his voice, his tone taking on a more serious and curious layer. He eyed you for a good second before asking: “Why?”
“Because I like you, why else?” You threw your hands into the air, exasperated, because you had enough of his teasing for the day, but when you realised what you had just said, your hands flew to your mouth.
You didn’t expect to tell him that so straightforwardly, let alone do this just in front of the school with the scarf you had gotten him still in his hand, but it just burst out, and there was no stopping it. Not that Taesan seemed to mind as his lips slowly curled upwards in a somewhat coy manner, and his reaction immediately made you feel relieved.
“That’s good… because I like you, too,” he confessed, and put the scarf around your neck to pull you close to him. You smiled into his embrace as his arms slowly enveloped you, and although it was winter, it felt like being embraced by the sun.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think! 😊
Click here for my BND masterlist
If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for BOYNEXTDOOR or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here. 🥰
Also, some fun little details and researches because they heavily inspired the story:
Title taken from Taesan's self-composed song called 'sink into the memory' which is also the song that was inspired by reader in the story (when Taesan finishes the song in the story, the lyrics' interpretation is totally made up by me)
Here is Taesan singing MCR's 'I Don't Love You'
Here is Taesan talking about his top 3 MCR songs
Header taken from this WHY Concept Film
Check out the Taesan POV prequel: 'i'll be the moon'
Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️
#boynextdoor x reader#boynextdoor scenarios#boynextdoor imagines#boynextdoor x you#bnd x reader#bnd imagines#bnd scenarios#bnd x you#taesan x reader#taesan x you#taesan scenarios#taesan imagines#boynextdoor fluff#bnd fluff#taesan fluff#boynextdoor angst#bnd angst#taesan angst
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*open the gifs for better quality <3
Kakashi spins SO MUCH compared to Obito in their fights, but as someone who trained martial arts for many years, I get it, you know?
First of all, Kakashi loves his kicks. It puts some distance between you and your target, you can protect the upper half of your body by leaning back, a well thrown kick can send your adversary flying or staggering back, etc.
The cool part is that Kakashi uses a lot of back spinning kicks. They have more strength behind them because you use your entire body and the energy the movement creates. If you dominate the techniques and you've trained your balance so you won't get dizzy, it's almost expected to use kicking combos.
I'll try to explain?? It's a bit hard, but I want it to be easy to understand for someone who doesn't know how the kicking dynamic works.
Okay, so—
There are different parts of the foot you can use to cause different types of damage. It depends on how you're standing and from which direction you're kicking. So imagine you stand with your body facing a side and while you look ahead. Your right foot is behind and you want to kick with that one— you retract your right knee, you bring your right leg up and closer to your body, all the while your left foot starts to shift its position to look back. At the same time you extend your right leg, your left foot shifts. The movement is explosive and your body is now facing the opposite side.
You are already half spinning!
If you don't land the hit, you can always set your right foot down and keep the flow of your body to back kick with the heel or arch of your left foot. If that one kick doesn't hit, you can set your left foot down and... Kick again with your right! Now you're facing ahead again!
The best (like Kakashi) can spin without setting a foot down, basically using the movement to keep them afloat.
I'm making it all so way more simple than it is and the combinations can vary pretty drastically, but as I was saying, Kakashi is a practical fighter and he loves to use every single thing available while he fights.
The reason why he fights so elegantly is because, like in a dance, he uses the flow to move, to guide the fight, to shift the position of his own body and the position of his weapons. In comparison, Obito learned to use more of the movement and weight to counter Kakashi's fluidity.
(I ended up making a bunch of gifs for this post, oops! Better keep going!)
Anyway, I bet I don't have to mention how much Kakashi spins his weapons. There are at least six different occasions during this particular fight with Obito. He loves to spin kunais to change his grip, to exchange hands, he even sent one flying high so he got both hands free to defend himself from Obito and then proceeded to kick it midair to with his heel, so it cut Obito in the cheek.
He's practical, so every spin has a meaning. Back at his fight with Zabuza, Kakashi even used the spin with his summoning scroll to intimidate... I think (I can't remember clearly).
You can rewatch almost any Kakashi fight in the anime and compare it to this post. You'll see that he is the spinning king for a reason.
#this man is dying to play the drums in a band#fidgety genius#naruto#naruto shippuden#kakashi hatake#naruto classic#obito uchiha#long posts
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Dead Air (K.SM.)
(request) : order up, thank you for sending this combo in! I wanted to do my best to create something special with a original taste . hope you enjoy the jealousy, angst, and soft unraveling of it all 💜
Description: Seungmin is the sharp-tongued sound engineer for your college radio show, always lurking just out of frame—until distance turns to jealousy, and silence says more than words ever could. When unspoken feelings and mixed signals build to a breaking point, all it takes is one late-night confrontation to change everything | Edited: No



The low hum of the radio booth was oddly soothing at this hour—past midnight, when most of campus was asleep but the station was still awake and whispering into the dark.
You were slouched in the co-host chair, headphones crooked over one ear, flipping aimlessly through a stack of scribbled show notes while your actual co-host, Jaehyun, was mid-monologue about indie film scores that “no one appreciates enough.” His voice carried through the mic with smooth confidence—he was good at this. Too good, sometimes.
Behind the glass, Seungmin sat in the production room, hood up and arms crossed, eyes flicking between the mixer board and the window like he had better places to be. He was always there for your shifts, always two coffees deep and always pretending not to care.
He caught your eye and raised a brow as Jaehyun launched into a third tangent. You stifled a smile.
Text from Seungmin [12:17am]: You gonna rein him in or should I fake a system failure?
You bit your lip, typed back quickly.
You [12:17am]: Let him crash. It'll be funnier.
Across the glass, his mouth twitched—half amusement, half exasperation.
When Jaehyun finally paused for air, you leaned into your mic. “And that, folks, is what happens when you ask Jaehyun about composers past midnight. Apologies to our one loyal listener in Finland.”
Seungmin’s dry laugh crackled through your earpiece.
The rest of the segment went smoothly. Jaehyun took off after the outro, muttering something about early class. You stayed behind, pulling off your headphones and rolling your chair back until it bumped the desk.
The door opened and Seungmin walked in, hoodie sleeves pushed to his elbows now, hair a little messy from his headset. He didn’t look at you right away—just went to unplug something from the console.
“You know,” you said, voice still soft from mic volume, “you could’ve told him to wrap up.”
“He doesn’t listen to me.” He shrugged, still not looking up. “No one does. Except maybe you.”
You blinked. That wasn’t a typical Seungmin thing to say. “Are you okay?”
Finally, he looked at you. Tired, sharp-eyed, unreadable. “Yeah. Just… been a long week.”
You nodded. The station was quiet now—no more sound cues or blinking lights. Just you and him in the hum of leftover static.
“Want to stay a bit?” you asked. “I could use the company.”
He hesitated, then sat in the co-host chair Jaehyun had vacated, spinning it once before settling in. “Only if you promise not to psychoanalyze me.”
You grinned. “No promises.”
You tossed your jacket over the back of the chair and curled your fingers around a can of something cold from the studio mini-fridge—one of those sparkling energy drinks Jaehyun always left behind. You weren’t sure if you liked the taste or just the familiarity.
Seungmin was watching, kind of. Not directly, but in the way people do when they’re pretending not to. His arms were folded again, foot tapping against the floor in a slow, deliberate rhythm.
“You hang out with him a lot now,” he said eventually, voice casual—too casual.
You glanced at him over the rim of the can. “Who? Jaehyun?”
He nodded, eyes fixed on the desk instead of you. “Mhm.”
You leaned back, let your chair tip on two legs. “We host a radio show together, Min. That’s kind of the job.”
He made a noncommittal noise, then reached for a rubber band on the console and started stretching it between his fingers. You knew that tic—it meant his thoughts were spiraling faster than he wanted to admit.
“What’s your problem?” you asked, more amused than irritated. “You don’t even like the guy.”
“I don’t dislike him,” he said too quickly. “I just think he likes the sound of his own voice. And yours. Lately.”
Your chair thudded back onto four legs.
“Wait—are you seriously jealous right now?”
He scoffed. “Why would I be jealous?”
You raised an eyebrow. “You tell me.”
He flicked the rubber band onto the table and stood up, pacing a few steps toward the wall where old show posters were pinned in crooked rows.
You didn’t push—yet. You watched him in silence, letting the quiet fill with static and the unsaid.
Finally, he exhaled and turned, arms crossed tight now. “I just don’t get why you need to do everything with him.”
You blinked. “Min. I don’t. We literally just—”
“He offered to walk you home last week,” he cut in, jaw tense. “And you said yes.”
There it was.
“You were busy,” you said softly.
“I would’ve made time.”
The silence hit different now.
“I didn’t know you wanted to,” you added, voice lower.
He didn’t answer. He just stood there, staring at you like you’d said the wrong thing and the right thing at the same time.
The booth lights buzzed faintly above you. The clock ticked toward 1:00 AM. You reached for your jacket.
“I’ll walk myself tonight,” you said, half-teasing.
But Seungmin was already pulling his own hoodie on, voice flat. “No, I’ve got it.”
When you stepped out into the empty hallway together, your arms brushed.
He didn’t move away.
It started small.
Jaehyun’s laugh echoing through the studio as he leaned a little too close to your mic to adjust it. The way he nudged your shoulder during ad breaks, playfully teasing you about your “radio voice.” The late-night snack runs he invited you on when a segment ran long — always offering to buy your favorite, always remembering your order.
Seungmin didn’t say anything at first.
He just adjusted the sound levels with a little too much precision. Made notes on your segments that were more nitpicky than usual. Cut the post-show banter short with a clipped, “We’re off air.”
It escalated.
One night, Jaehyun walked you back to your dorm after a rainstorm. You came in laughing, sweatshirt damp at the sleeves, cheeks pink from cold or something else. Seungmin didn’t even look up from his board when you said hi. You thought he didn’t hear. But he had—he just didn’t want to.
Another time, Jaehyun posted a behind-the-scenes photo on the station’s social, you in the frame with your head tipped toward him, smiling at something out of view. The caption was harmless: Late night chaos, brought to you by your favorite duo. But the next day, Seungmin asked someone else to handle audio for your segment. Told the faculty advisor he was catching up on classwork.
And then came the final straw—an end-of-week show where you and Jaehyun shared a mic for a special collab segment. Seungmin watched from behind the glass, jaw tight, arms crossed. You saw the shift in his eyes the second Jaehyun called you “the heart of the station” on-air. And when he brushed a curl from your face mid-sentence?
Seungmin was gone before the outro music even started.
No note. No goodbye.
Just an empty booth. A muted console. And a week of silence that followed like static in your chest.
The studio felt colder without him.
For days, you came in early and left late, hoping the door might creak open, that he'd mumble something sarcastic as he passed your mic. But the sound booth stayed empty. Someone else was adjusting your volume levels now—someone competent but quiet, without the familiar rhythm of Seungmin’s sighs and muttered critiques.
You saw him once. In the quad, earbuds in, hands buried in his hoodie pocket. He didn’t notice you. Or maybe he did, and that was worse.
When he finally showed up for a weekly station meeting, you didn’t think. You cornered him in the hallway after, heart thudding louder than your footsteps.
“Seriously? That’s it? You just vanish and avoid me like I don’t exist?”
He paused, but didn’t turn around. “Didn’t think you’d notice,” he said flatly.
You stepped in front of him, blocking the exit. “Of course I noticed. You ghosted me. After everything.”
He looked up then—eyes unreadable, mouth set. “Everything? You mean the shows you do with Jaehyun now? The ones I barely need to be here for?”
“That’s not fair.”
He laughed, a small, bitter sound. “No, what’s not fair is watching your best friend get replaced one joke at a time.”
The word “replaced” hit you in the chest like cold air. You blinked. “Is that what this is about? Jaehyun?”
“No,” he snapped. “It’s about you not noticing how it’s always him now. Him you text after shows. Him you look for first when you walk in.”
You folded your arms, stung. “What, you want me to apologize for being close with someone who actually shows up?”
His face fell. Just for a second—but it was enough.
“I’m tired,” he said quietly. “Of pretending it doesn’t bother me. Of feeling like an afterthought when I used to be your favorite person.”
Your throat tightened. “You still are,” you whispered, voice cracking.
But it was too late.
He shook his head, stepping back. “You say that now.”
And then he was gone.
This time, the silence didn’t just settle in the studio. It followed you home. Hung in the corners of your room, in the gaps between messages you didn’t send. Days passed. Then a week. Then two. No texts. No run-ins. Just static where he used to be.
You didn’t know what hurt more: that he’d walked away… Or that you didn’t chase him fast enough.
The station feels colder without him behind the glass.
You sit in the booth, mic live and smile forced, pretending the hum of equipment fills the silence he left behind. Jaehyun still cracks jokes like always, leaning in too close when the songs fade and flashing that same grin that made Seungmin roll his eyes. You laugh on cue. Not because it’s funny—but because it’s easier than letting the silence say too much.
The worst part is how familiar everything still feels. Like Seungmin could be in the next room, tapping notes into his laptop, one earbud in and the other looped carelessly around his collar. You imagine him there sometimes, just past the window, scowling at your mic technique with that half-irritated, half-amused expression he wore like a signature.
But the chair is empty now. His hoodie still draped over the back of it, forgotten—or maybe left behind on purpose. You almost took it with you once, fingers curled into the sleeve like it might anchor you to something. Instead, you let go.
The last time you spoke, it ended in fragments. His voice low, clenched around something too sharp to name. Your own words rushed and defensive. You hadn’t meant to hurt him. But maybe you had. Or maybe you just hadn’t realized how much space he’d taken up until he wasn’t there to fill it.
Now, you wait later after shows than you should. Pretend you're organizing notes. Pretend you’re not hoping to hear his footsteps down the hall.
You haven’t texted. Not really. The thread sits open sometimes, your thumbs hovering, typing and erasing. You’ve written him a dozen versions of “Are we okay?” and “Talk to me,” but none of them feel right.
So you just let the silence linger.
You don’t ask Jaehyun if Seungmin’s been around, even when you want to. You don’t bring him up in meetings. You don’t let anyone see the way your chest tightens when someone says his name too casually.
Instead, you learn to talk around the ache. You let the music play. You fake your laughs. And when the show ends, you sit in that empty studio and stare through the glass, wondering how it got so hard to breathe without the sound of his voice bleeding through.
Seungmin stopped showing up to the studio.
No one told him to. No one asked questions either—he was the type to get away with silence. He still sent in files from home, kept things running remotely when needed. But he wasn’t behind the glass anymore. Wasn’t perched on that old creaky stool, twisting knobs, eyes darting to the co-host mics—especially yours.
He said it was for convenience. That he was “just too busy.” But the truth was simpler and harder: he couldn’t stand being there without you.
The shift was sharp. One day, your voice was everything—cutting through static, laughing at dumb jokes, dragging him into late-night conversations about music and playlists and what it meant to care about something. Then the next, it was gone. You were gone. Not literally—you still had your show, still sounded like yourself—but not to him.
He missed your eyes through the glass. The way you’d look over mid-broadcast, eyebrows raised when Jaehyun got off-track. The way you’d throw your crumpled script at the booth window when you thought no one was listening. The way you always waited until the red light faded before mouthing something just for him.
Now, there was nothing. The red light would flicker on, and he wouldn’t be there to see it. Wouldn’t be there to catch the way your shoulders slumped when Jaehyun said something annoying, or the way you lit up when you got to talk about something you really cared about.
He told himself it was just a break. He’d come back. Maybe. Eventually.
But the soundboard felt colder now, and the studio felt too quiet. He couldn’t shake the weight of all the things he didn’t say. Couldn’t shake the memory of your voice the last time you spoke to him—not angry, but disappointed. Hurt.
And the worst part was: he didn’t even know how to fix it.
Not yet.
He wasn’t supposed to be here. Not again.
But campus had a way of pulling ghosts back through old halls. His steps slowed outside the station building, knowing she was inside, probably laughing with Jaehyun again. That sound—her laugh—used to belong to him. Or at least it felt that way.
Now, every time he thought of it, it hurt.
He turned to leave.
“Seungmin.”
Your voice. From behind him. Sharp. Breathless.
He froze, but didn’t turn. Couldn’t.
“Are you seriously just walking away again?” Y/N said, closer now. “You’ve been avoiding me for two weeks.”
His jaw clenched. “I didn’t think you’d notice.”
“That’s such a load of shit and you know it.”
He finally faced you. You looked like you hadn’t slept, and it wrecked him more than he’d admit.
“I didn’t know how to handle it,” he said. “The way I felt. The way he looked at you.”
Y/N’s mouth tightened. “So you ghosted me? You couldn’t just talk to me?”
He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “I didn’t want to say something I’d regret.”
“You already did,” you snapped.
Silence. Heavy. Alive.
He swallowed hard. “I hate how much I love you.”
The words dropped between them like a match.
Your breath hitched. “You don’t get to say that after disappearing.”
“I know,” he said, voice breaking. “But it’s the truth. I hated seeing you with him. I hated knowing I walked away and left space for someone else to fill.”
You shook her head, eyes glassy now. “You didn’t have to walk away.”
“I was scared,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to ruin what we had.”
“But you did,” You whispered.
The look on her face shattered him. She turned to go.
And that’s when it slipped out—too quiet, too desperate:
“Don’t go. Not yet.”
You stopped.
“I need to fix this,” he said. “If you’ll let me.”
You didn’t turn around. But you didn’t walk away either.
It was enough—for now.
He sounded broken. Not angry, not annoyed—just tired. And honest.
You inhaled through your nose, slow and careful, like breathing wrong might make it worse.
“I waited for you,” you said, not loud enough to be cruel, but enough to sting. “Every single day, I thought you’d say something. Anything.”
“I know.”
Your hands clenched at your sides. “And now you say that—you hate how much you love me like it’s supposed to fix everything?”
There was gravel under your boots, wet from the morning rain. You focused on it. Not on him.
“No,” he said. “It doesn’t fix anything. But I wanted you to know I didn’t disappear because I didn’t care. I disappeared because I cared too much, and it scared the hell out of me.”
You finally turned.
His eyes looked softer than you remembered. Or maybe you just hadn’t let yourself really look in weeks.
“You hurt me,” you said quietly.
“I know,” he whispered. “And I’d take it back if I could. All of it.”
You crossed your arms, more to keep yourself from shaking than to prove a point. “So what now? You say sorry and I’m just supposed to forget how awful it felt to be left behind?”
“No,” he said, stepping closer. “But maybe you could let me start again.”
There was a pause.
You sighed—frustrated, tired, aching in places he couldn’t see. “You really are the worst sometimes.”
“I know.”
“But I still—” You looked away. Then back. “I still wanted it to be you.”
His breath caught.
“Don’t say something unless you mean it,” you warned.
“I mean it,” he said without flinching. “I want you. Even if it takes time. Even if you’re mad forever.”
You didn’t smile. Not yet. But your fists relaxed.
And when he took a careful step closer, you didn’t move away.
The studio felt the same—flickering overheads, a whirring fan in the corner, mics still slightly too sensitive. But the silence between segments was different now.
Seungmin sat beside you, close enough that his knee bumped yours every time he shifted. He didn’t move away anymore. His arm rested behind your chair, casual and confident, fingers occasionally brushing the back of your sweater. You were pretending not to notice, but you were also… very aware.
Jaehyun cleared his throat across the room, glancing at the two of you, then back at the soundboard. “We’re live in five,” he mumbled, fiddling with levels he already knew were fine.
“Thanks,” you said, not looking up. Your eyes flicked to Seungmin instead, catching the small smile tugging at his lips.
As the ON AIR sign lit up red, Jaehyun’s voice snapped into its usual smooth charm. “Welcome back, everyone. You’re listening to Late Night Frequency with Jae and Y/N—”
“—And Seungmin,” you added, leaning toward your mic, grin unmistakable.
Seungmin didn’t even flinch. “I didn’t realize I got promoted.”
Jaehyun laughed, but it landed flat. “You’re not even on the show.”
Seungmin leaned back in his chair, stretching. “Weird. I’m still here though.”
Jaehyun glanced at you again. You offered a tight smile. There was a time you might’ve felt the need to fill the awkward air between them. Now, you just leaned into Seungmin’s shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Alright,” Jaehyun sighed, signaling the music track. “Here’s another one for your late-night thoughts.”
As the song played and mics went dead, Seungmin tilted his head closer. “That was petty.”
“You were worse,” you whispered back, unable to stop smiling.
“I’m catching up,” he said, smug.
Across the desk, Jaehyun stared straight ahead, headphones slipping slightly off one ear. The third wheel had never been so obvious.
And maybe it was unfair, but after everything, it also felt like the exact right ending.
#author jules ღ#jules skz requests 𝄢#skz x reader#stray kids#skz imagines#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagines#seungmin#seungmin stray kids#seungmin scenarios#seungmin x you#seungmin x reader#seungmin x y/n#seungmin imagines#seungmin angst#seungmin skz
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had this thought of being in your first trimester while pregnant with teddy, and you’re so sick you can barely hold down saltine cracker. and one day at family he’s trying to get you to eat and you’re like “no i literally can’t” and he snaps at you in front of everyone
"C'mon, just try a little bite." Carmen coaxes, what was supposed to be a soothing tone was falling short, that snip in his tone was fueled with irritation.
"Carmen," You moaned lightly, your stomach lurching at the thought.
The smell of the kitchen was enough to make you nauseous, walking through only for a moment before you felt ill. Normally, your mouth salivated at the smells, tummy rumbling at the promise of the family meal.
That changed quickly after you found out you were pregnant. Only a few weeks, but your symptoms were coming in stronger each day. Hormonal acne that was angry and hurt to the touch decorating your jaw and chin, fatigue that washed over you in waves so strong it left your head spinning, and morning sickness. Well, morning was generous seeing as it followed you throughout the day. Your sense of smell was more sensitive, as was your stomach, and that combo was far from ideal. You'd smelled cilantro when you walked in and had to run to the bathroom.
Carmen understood, he did, but your recent hunger strike of sorts because of your stomach was making him beyond nervous. He'd looked up all the important, nutrient rich foods for you, insistent that you eat them.
And you would, if you could. If it didn't come shooting back up twenty minutes later.
"You gotta eat." Carmen frowned at you. "You can't starve yourself. Starve the baby."
"Carm, I'm not starving myself or the baby." You snapped, low and under your breath. "I'm gonna throw up if I eat it, ok? My stomach is fucked."
"Probably because you haven't eaten anything." Carmen glared at you, nodding towards the loaded bagel sandwich in front of you. "C'mon."
"Carmen, the thought of eating that right now is making me already gag." You muttered, holding a hand to your mouth, trying to swallow the spit already pooling in. "I'm not eating that."
"Baby, you have to-"
"-Carm, I will later, but I can't right now. I just threw up." You whined. There came the surge of emotions, raging and wild, the annoyance masked with frustration and tears.
"Eat. I'm not playin' with you anymore." Carmen's tone was harsh, cutting and firm, loud enough to bring the attention of the table towards the two of you.
Your lip wobbled, stomach twisting now with the humiliation of tears as well. You shoved your seat out, stomping towards the bathroom with burning tears. The table was silent, looking at Carmen.
Tina glared at him. "The fuck's the matter with you, Jeff?" She huffed, already standing to check on you.
"I-I'm just... She's not eating. And-And it's bad for the baby-"
"Carmen, really?" Sugar huffed, rolling her eyes. "You're so stupid."
"I gotta agree with Sug on this one." Richie quipped, nodding before shoveling the pasta in his mouth. "You are a fuckin' moron."
"Fuck off, alright? I'm a moron because I don't want my baby to starve?" Carmen huffed. The table erupted in comments, mostly derogatory towards Carmen's last comment and in defense of you.
"She's not starving your baby, you idiot." Sugar huffed. "She's sick. Ok? That is a different kind of sickness. One you will never understand." Sugar sneered. "And right now, there's probably only one craving that the baby won't reject, so maybe instead of being a dumbass-"
"-total jagoff-"
"-complete asshole-"
"-Go check on her." Sugar placed her hands on her hips, the sisterly glare that only an older sister could possess.
Carmen hated that she was right, hated that they all were. But he hated that you were upset and in the bathroom more.
"Can I come in?" Carmen knocked lightly, hearing Tina's soothing voice over your retching and sniffles. His heart plummeted.
Tina opened the door with a glare, one that had Carmen stepping back. "You not gonna come in here and make Mama more upset, you got me, Jeff?" Tina sneered, a painted brow raised menacingly at him.
Carmen just nodded dumbly. "You better get in there and make it right, you hear me?" Tina pushed past him.
You were sitting on the tile, one hand wiping your tear stained face, the other cleaning your mouth with a piece of toilet paper. You glared at Carmen through tear stained eyes, sniffling softly, making his heart crack.
"Baby," Carmen knelt down, a hand running over your hair soothingly. "I'm sorry, alright? I-I didn't mean to yell like that."
You just glared at him, wiping under your eyes. "I just... I don't know, I'm scared. I'm scared that something will happen to the baby, and-and it will be my fault."
"How would it be your fault?" You mumbled through a pout. "It's my body."
"Yeah, but, I-I don't know. Like if I miss a step or don't do everything right it will... It'll be bad and it's gonna be my fault." Carmen muttered, looking down at the tile.
"That's not how it's gonna be, Carm." You sigh, your heart melting at his admission. You knew he was scared, you were too. Just trying to figure it out together. "You can't plan everything and expect it to go like that. Not with a baby."
"I know." Carmen ran a hand down his face, looking back at you sweetly. "I'm just... I-I'm sorry, ok? I didn't mean to pressure you like that and be an asshole... or a jagoff... or a dumbass..."
You giggled lightly, lips curling. "You're not a dumbass all the time." You said playfully. "I promise, I will eat, Carm. I just can't do the vegetables and cheese today." You said, gagging lightly at the thought.
"Yeah? That's alright. What can you do, hm? What're you in the mood for?" Carmen hummed, running a hand down your hair.
You thought for a moment, hand running over your tummy lightly. You'd barely started to show, looking like bloat, but it drove Carmen wild regardless.
"Remember that hot dog we had after our first karaoke date?" You muttered dreamily, leaning your head to the side.
It felt like a lifetime ago. You and Carmen had just gotten 'serious'. Everything was exciting and new, and you'd taken him to a karaoke bar, serenading him a little tipsy and giggly. You'd been starving on your walk home. Carmen stopped and got you a one am hot dog at a questionable stand, but you'd loved it, sharing it with him, buried into his side while the two of you walked home. It was a shitty hotdog, but Carmen would've ate a million that night to keep you happy like that.
"Yeah?" Carmen tried not to grimace, nose scrunching lightly enough to have you laughing, his shoulders relaxing at the sound.
"I just want a shitty hotdog. Nothing gourmet. Just with some mustard. That's all I've been craving." You muttered.
"Alright. That's what baby wants?" Carmen asked, helping you off the floor sweetly, grabbing your bag for your mouth wash.
You nodded, gargling with it, Carmen holding your hair back while you spit in the sink. "I'll get it for you, ok? I think there's one down the block-"
"-I'll come with you." You added, glaring at him lightly, so he wouldn't protest. "I just need to be outside. Maybe settle my stomach."
"Alright." Carmen nodded, a hand running down your hip. "You got a coat?" You nodded, leaning into his side, walking back to the office with him.
Carmen walked you down to the stand, "overpriced and a tourist trap" he'd grumble, but bought you two hot dogs- just in case. In case you wanted more later. You'd managed to keep it down, sitting with him on the steps of The Bear, pressed into his side, giggly and sharing kisses in between bites.
#thebearer#bearblahs#carmen berzatto#dad!carmen berzatto x mom!reader#dad!carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x pregnant!reader#tina the bear#sugar berzatto#richie jerimovich#sydney amadu#marcus brooks#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto#carmy berzatto x reader#the bear#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmy berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto angst#carmen berzatto x you#carmy berzatto x you#carmy x reader
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Fun Facts About Kenta Yumiya
Kenta’s name has a resemblance to the word "Centaur," which is fitting as Sagittario’s avatar takes the form of a centaur.
Compared to his friends, his design is less flashy, as he wears more casual clothes. This was probably done to make him feel more relatable as we follow his growth and development throughout the series.
He appears before the main character, Gingka Hagane.
He is also the first character we see battle.
Sagittario is the first Beyblade introduced in the anime.
Ironically, Flash Sagittario, its evolution, is the last Beyblade introduced in the original trilogy.
Kenta is the first and only known character to have used a Metal Face Bolt, which was given to him by Madoka. However, he stops using it after the end of Metal Fusion.
Despite looking like a small boy, he was able to lift heavy equipment during his training to defeat Hikaru.
He is the first character to use the Flame Fusion Wheel, which is one of the most commonly used wheels in the anime and in real-life Beyblade products.
The wheel itself was designed to replicate a bow and arrow, which is fitting for Sagittario the archer.
Coincidentally, Kenta bonds with Yu Tendo, who is also a young boy using a Stamina-type Beyblade with the Flame Wheel.
Additionally, his Flash Sagittario shares similarities with Zeo’s Flame Byxis:
Both have similar motifs on their Face Bolts.
Both use the 230WD combo.
Both feature arrows in their designs.
Both were used to defeat the main mastermind of their respective seasons (Ziggurat and Pluto).
Despite seemingly being younger than Sora, Kenta became somewhat of a mentor or coach to him, just as Gingka (another Pegasus owner) helped Kenta improve—creating a virtuous cycle.
In Zero-G, a character named Takanosuke Shishiya shares similarities with Kenta:
Both used the C145S combo.
Both their Beyblades are related to archery.
Both wear yellow clothing.
Both are passionate about Beyblade.
Both followed a Blader using a left-spin dragon Beyblade (Ryuga and Sakyo, respectively).
Kenta also shares parallels with Kyoya Tategami:
Both have green hair. Both use two of the most common Fusion Wheels (Rock and Flame).
They each only have two Beys, with one being an evolution due to their Legendary Blader status.
As part of the Four Seasons Legendary Bladers, they both represent a warm season (Spring and Summer).
They are the only two in this subgroup not to use driver; instead, they both use a gimmickless Track (130 and 230) and a variation of the Defense tip (WWD and WD).
Both have an important bond with Gingka and Benkei.
Both lost in Battle Bladers against a character using Dark Power after putting on an impressive performance.
They both became stronger after meeting Gingka.
Both participated in the selection stage but didn’t end up in Team Gan Gan Galaxy.
They went their own way in Metal Fury after temporarily joining Gingka's group.
Both use Beys based on the zodiac.
Both had a significant change of clothing in Metal Fury.
Kenta is Gingka’s first new friend after he began his quest to retrieve L-Drago.
He is the first character shown to create and use fire through his Beyblade, which fits the name "Flame" in Sagittario’s Wheel. Additionally, the Sagittarius constellation represents summer, which is the hottest season.
Although Kenta correctly states that he and Ryuga met multiple times, they never actually interacted or battled before Metal Fury. This makes Kenta the only person in Gingka’s original group of friends who never battled Ryuga in Fusion or Lightning L-Drago.
Interestingly, Kenta seems happy when he sees Ryuga defeat Jack in the finals of the World Championship.
Out of all the characters, Kenta is the one who utilized customization the most:
An episode was dedicated to him and Benkei customizing their Beyblades to win a tournament.
He changed his Face Bolt to a Metal Face Bolt.
He briefly used Libra ES.
He is the second person to damage an L-Drago Beyblade (the first being Gingka, who damaged Lightning L-Drago). He is also the first to damage L-Drago Destroy, the second being Rago.
After receiving the Star Fragment, Kenta’s Bey evolved, and its C145 track became a 230 track. This could be explained by the fact that Rago broke Sagittario’s claws, making it similar to a regular 145 track.
This was only the second time Sagittario was damaged. The first was against Reiji, who also broke Kenta’s three claws. Sagittario would be damaged a third time as Flash Sagittario by Nemesis during the finale.
Kenta is the third character after Zeo and Herschel to use the 230 track.
This makes Kenta the Legendary Blader with the tallest Beyblade by far. Ironically, he is one of the smallest and youngest characters in the group.
His hair grew during his travels with Ryuga, and he also became taller and more mature.
Kenta was the only character to enter Hades Kingdom and fight Nemesis who was neither a Legendary Blader nor part of Team Gan Gan Galaxy. Of course, this changed when he received the Star Fragment.
He is the only known Legendary Blader to gain his fragment from a previous Blader rather than directly from the meteorite. This inspired the heroes to transfer their power to Gingka in order to defeat Nemesis.

He only has a brief cameo in the Zero-G anime, but in the manga, he battles Zyro while disguising himself as "Masked Blader X." This is a callback to how Ryusei Hagane disguised himself as Phoenix to test Gingka. Coincidentally, Beyblade X’s protagonist, Ekusu Kurosu, also goes by "Kamen X" meaning "Masked X."
Kenta’s Sagittario is yellow, which corresponds to the color attributed to Stamina Beyblades by Takara Tomy. Each member of the original group (Gingka, Kenta, Benkei, and Kyoya) has a Beyblade colored according to their respective types.
Kenta is the second Legendary Blader to have a yellow aura, the first being Tithi. He also had a similar aura before receiving his Star Fragment.
He briefly used a generic Beyblade called Hydra after Sagittario was damaged by Poison Serpent. Coincidentally, the Hydra is a multi-headed snake.
In the selection tournament for the Japanese team, Kenta placed sixth, which is impressive in itself. Later, he attempted to become the substitute when Tsubasa and Yu were injured, and Gingka initially accepted. However, after Wang Hu Zhong arrived, everyone was told they couldn’t take the spot.
His three friends—Osamu, Takashi, and Akira—were never seen again after Fusion, nor during the Battle Bladers arc.
The character he battled the most is Gingka Hagane.
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