#i could do art if i cared enough unfortunately i care about girls from songs more

[nyxanarchy]

This is the first chapter of my self indulgent fanfiction for the 25th hunger games. I'm currently waiting for the moment I'm brave enough to post it on AO3, but honestly I'm too excited about it and I can't wait so I decided to start by sharing it here. (I should be able to post it on ao3 on the 24th may.)

It's the first FF of my life, so please, don't destroy me in the comments, I'm doing this only for fun and to try to beat my writer's block. (Also since the rise of Ai, I'm feeling like I should never ever feel shame about my art again, no matter how bad it is since at least it comes from my brain and heart and not from a stupid computer without soul. So I have to be brave.) Last disclaimer. English is not my native language.

The FF follows a covey girl from the 8th district (the coveys were forced to stop traveling and since the eighth is very close to the twelfth, I imagined they could have found themselves there too), in the year of the first quarter quell, when the districts were forced to vote their own tributes. (I imagined it was a surprise, courtesy of the capitol)

No smut, but a lover boy in the tradition of Hunger Games.

Tw: mentions of death, death thoughts, sibling loss.

The song the coveys sing is a translation of "Chiena e' scippe" written by La Nina, a Neapolitan songwriter I'm currently obsessing over.

Birds of a feather.

Chapter 1

Prythee weep, May Lilian!

Gaiety without eclipse

Wearieth me, May Lilian:

Thro' my very heart it thrilleth

When from crimson-threaded lips

Silver-treble laughter trilleth:

Prythee weep, May Lilian.

Praying all I can,

If prayers will not hush thee,

Airy Lilian,

Like a rose-leaf I will crush thee,.

It’s not the sun that wakes me up, but the music of the mourning dove outside. She calls me so gently until I open my eyes and I find myself where I fell asleep last night, on the table where we eat and where I write. I look around: the bed is freshly made, but there is no trace of my sister. She probably already went to the seashore, and is waiting for me with the others.She knows I stay up too late, she must have seen all the papers I trashed last night and taking pity on me, she left me to sleep.She even left me some breakfast, bread and some feral blackberries. They are in season, easy to find. Sometimes when I don't feel lazy I make jam with them. The sugar is not as easy to find, especially since Rosalind Mauve lost her job at the factory, but Enoch Green always brings some at the end of the month.

He is like a weird uncle, Enoch Green, always around when you need him. Rosalind Mauve says he is family, and he must be, he is covey like us, even though he is a Bells and we are Reeds. Anyway, there are so few of us that even distant family feels like blood. He was a friend of our Ma, so he thinks he has to keep an eye on us. He is not the best when it comes to comfort and kind words, but he has a good heart and a voice that could make the trees cry.

July just started though, so he won't bring anything today. If I'm still around at the end of the month I will make jam for everyone, but today the blackberries will have to do.

The first year I had to go through the reaping I didn't sleep for at least three days. It wasn't only the thought of being reaped that kept me awake, but the dread of the possibility of having to watch my sister going on that stage. But since she turned eighteen two years ago, today I only have to worry about myself. Myself and Melton really, the only person I care about who is in danger like me.

Probably he is on the seashore with my sister and the others coveys, so after I dress up, I take the fiddle and start walking to join them. I know they are probably fishing, it's the way we are able to sustain ourselves since Rosalind Mauve is out of work, and they will probably appreciate some music to keep them company.

Outside the sky is cloudless, and I have to walk under the trees to get away from the sun. Unfortunately the beautiful day is ruined by the industrial fumes. I can see them even though our house it's outside the real city.I hate the way they are expanding it. It’s eating away our woods, polluting the air. The smell is horrible, the sounds are worse.

Welcome to district 8. If you are lucky enough to survive the hunger games, and the factory work, you’ll probably die of lung cancer. Long live the capitol.

Can’t wait to go to the central square later today, where it’s so hot people consistently lose their senses. I walk until I feel sand under my feet, and then I run until I hear them singing.

“The wind brought me

A soft touch from the past

I close my eyes in front of roses

When I want to think about you

And then I look out the window

And I lose myself in a painting

Of a beautiful mountain

under the tinted clouds

And the birds keep singing

like they always did

But when I was a babe

I only chased the cats

Black, red and white cats too

I called out to them: «little cat!»

until I suddenly caught them”

I see Rosalind Mauve, radiant as always. She is working on a net with Bobby, next to them it’s a basket full of freshly caught fishes. Looks like I'm late. If I'm honest, I'm not sure I like Bobby, but he is Melton’s cousin, so I kinda have to like him. Moreover, he has a thing with my sister.He is crazy about her, and it's not a wonder. She is beautiful, always turning heads when we go to the city.Enoch Green says I stole her whole face when I was born, but I really can't see it. We resemble each other, but I fear I will never compare to her light.

One time this winter, when we were searching for wood, my sister walked away and Bobby softly whispered “she has soulful eyes you could get lost into” in a voice so pathetic Melton and I laughed until our stomach hurt, until we were both in the grass. He didn't really like that. When he ran away, red and angry, Melton got really close to me and cupped my face in his hands.

I froze, it was the first time he did something like that. He looked at me like he wanted to paint me, and then he whispered «Lilian Bone, you have the sharpest eyes I have ever seen, and your laugh is the best song of the Coveys».

Then he went after his cousin, like that meant nothing. For some reason those words didn't sound half as pathetic on his lips.

In a way I guess I should be grateful to Bob. If it wasn't for him I would still be obvious to Melton's endless flirting.

We are taking things slowly, but what can I say? I like him. A lot. I like him all-fire, so to speak. Unfortunately, that means Bobby is always around. But I guess it's fair. My sister likes him, good taste doesn't run in the family. Lionel Plum and Simon Stone see me, they are in the water, and while my sister is still singing they run to greet me.They are soaking wet from the sea, so I try to escape their arms.

«You are late!» they laugh and scream, and I run away from them.

“This moon woke me up

she found me inside my house

Without words

She sang me about you

And now with a chest full of sugar

I closed my locked window

Without any tears in my eyes

Now I laugh thinking about you.

And the birds keep singing like they always did

But when I was a babe

I only chased the cats

Black, red, and white cats too

I called out to them «little cat!’»

Until I suddenly caught them

And I used to run back and forth

And I had hands full of scratches

Hands full of scratches, but my heart was still untouched”

When she stops singing, the twins have caught me, and I'm no longer dry, sea water dripping from my dress. But I managed to save my fiddle, so all is well.

«Rascals.» my sister laughs. The twins are nineteen, but like Rosalind Mauve they look older. Like her, they didn't have anyone to take care of them, so they grew up fast. But on the reaping day we all get to act childish. If that wasn't the case we would go mad. They squeeze me extra hard, before I get them to leave me be. I sit against my sister's shoulder.

«Look who finally showed up. Late night?» Bobby's voice it’s almost cheery. I shrug. I love being up during the night, I can't help it. it's the only time I feel it's really mine. I manage to write my music only when the sun goes down.

«In this life you have to rest when you can.» Rosalind Mauve smiles at me. But it's a forced smile.

On this beach we are all trying to ignore the elephant in the room: that even though this year is my last, I'm still not safe. Even though we were extremely lucky, and thanks to Enoch Green we managed to not use tesserae, there is the very real possibility that I will be dead next week. Even so, the sun is warm, and the wind is pleasant.

I keep reminding myself that even without reaping life is not guaranteed. I know it better than others.

We had another sister. Her name was Susan Pearl. She died in her sleep three years ago. Nothing gruesome, no factory death for her, no horrible cancer. One week she had a mild fever, the week after she was dead. She went to sleep, and never woke up again. The doctor said her heart simply gave out. Something about the strain of the fever and a defect of her little heart. Rosalind Mauve found her dead in our bed.

Of course she wasn't really there. That body wasn't really her. Just the shell she left behind.

It was hard. I try not to think about it, because I feel like if I really think about it I will go crazy like one of the girls of the ballads we sing.

I rather think about the fact that she escaped the games, that she is somewhere safe, with our mother, with our nameless father. Frankly, since she died, I obsessively think about what it means to die.

Even though I saw plenty of dead people, I really didn't think it could happen like that. I mean, I knew it could happen, but I just didn't think it could happen to anyone, at any given moment. It surprised me, almost. Before my sister died, death was for me a faceless fear, something almost abstract. Death for me was my mother, someone distant and unknown.

I really can’t wrap my mind around the concept of going to sleep and never waking up. The thought of non-existence is, for me, horrifying. For months I was scared of going to bed, the dark terrified me.

Maybe this makes me a coward. I don't really care. I obsess over the thought, and then I try to ignore it. I have no balance. Having to watch the hunger games year after year doesn't help me in this regard.

Suddenly, my eyes are covered by calloused hands I know too well.

«Who am I?» His voice. Oh! If only he would sing.

«A feral sparrow?» Every time we cover each other's eyes, we try to guess the animal the other is thinking about. A silly game we have played since we were children.

«Wrong. Will you play for us? As a penance?»

I turn to face him, and I feel my heart leaping from me, a trapped animal yearning to go back to its home, his chest. He really is handsome, my lovely smith. His dark hair is like coal in the dawn, his eyes almost green. I softly touch his cheek, his skin pales in comparison to my hand. He won't kiss me, not when there are others around, he knows I don't like being watched. We are still pretending to be only friends, but I know the others are onto us. They definitely suspect we like each other, but I'm not sure they know we talked about it. But I'm sure they saw us holding hands.

When Rosalind Mauve tried to talk me about it, I suddenly became extremely busy and I had to immediately leave the room.

She let me leave. She has her secrets too. We respect each other too much. She knows that when I'm ready I will tell her about it.

«Please?» How could I deny such a sweet request?

«Fine.» I say, with a fake hint of annoyance, as if I didn't bring the instrument myself. I start to tune it, filling the air with the familiar sound.

Bobby immediately stops talking, his eyes fixing on my hands. Mean jokes aside, he is not a bad guy. I can see why Rosalind Mauve would fall for him. He is not bad looking, he is sweet, caring, and he really respects our music. Last year he asked me to teach him to play something, he told me he wanted to surprise her.Unfortunately, he lacks whatever sense of rhythm needed for this art. The music moves him, but it moves him ugly. His words, not mine.

When the music starts flowing from my beloved instrument, he looks a little melancholic, so my sister put his head on his shoulder. Even though they have been together for a while, he still looks surprised when she touches him. He is growing on me, I guess. Or maybe the reaping day makes me kinder.

I keep playing until everyone is clapping their hands, until the twins join me playing their guitars and my sister is singing over the cheerful tune.

There was a time where we could have lived off this. When Enoch Green and our Ma were young they used to play in the squares of the city, and people used to pay them to hear them sing. They would organize shows, parties where people would dance together.It was before most of our songs were banned. Now we sing only for each other, only for our friends.

Maybe it's for the better, maybe the city is not worthy of our songs. I'm perfectly content singing only with the people I love. I know my sister doesn't agree with me.

Anyway, for a moment I feel almost happy. If this is the last day I spend with my family, with the boy I'm crazy about, with his weird cousin, it’s a day well spent. I close my eyes, trying to lose myself in the music I'm making, trying to picture their faces in the dark. I want to remember them, if I have to ride that damned train today.

If my sister could hear my thoughts she would scold me. She lives her life in the absolute conviction that misfortune is attracted by bad thoughts. I think that if Iulia Creek hands are bound to find my name in the bowl, they will find it regardless of what I'm thinking right now.

When the sun is almost up in the sky, we know it's time. We have to go, since we have to make ourselves presentable. We all have to look our best, in case Capitol Tv decides to put us on its screens.

It’s not the real reason why we do it, though.

We are effectively choosing the dress we want to be buried in. At least, me and Melton are.

My sister and the twins are safe. They can't take them from me. It's just me and him against misfortune.

We let the others walk in front of us, we stay in the back, and when they are far enough he puts his hands around me, and finally kisses me. I like our stolen glances, and I like these stolen kisses. Maybe I don't want to let the others know just yet because I like having this secret. I never had one before.

I let his lips soothe me, he smiles on my mouth.

«I missed you. Why did you take so long?» he says softly, and my heart is pounding in my ears.

«I’m sorry. Rosalind Mauve didn't wake me up.»

«Lilian Bone. Always blaming other people for her own fault. Cruel little Lilian.»

When Melton quotes my ballad I roll my eyes, but he keeps going.

«She’ll not tell me if she love me, cruel little Lilian, when my passion seeks pleasence in love-sighs. »

It's cute. I like hearing him recite it, trying to impress me. He always impresses me, but I try not to show it, because I don't want him to stop trying.

The first time I met him I was eleven. We went to the city with Enoch Green, since he had an old horse who desperately needed shoes. While he was inside the blacksmith’s shop, Rosalind Mauve went to look around the market, while I sat outside with said horse.

At some point, a boy I had never seen before sat next to me. He was already tall, all legs and pointy elbows.

«I’ve seen you at school.» he said.

«I didn't.» I replied, even though I hadn't even looked at him. I never liked city boys.

«What’s your name?»

«Lilian Bone.»

«Hi, Lilian.»

«Lilian Bone.» I repeated it harshly. We have been here since the war, since we were separated from the others coveys, but people still don't get our naming tradition. Sometimes it gets frustrating.

«What?»

«My name. It's Lilian Bone, not Lilian.»

«Ah.»

He sat in silence for some time, looking at me and the poor malnourished horse.

«Aren’t you gonna ask my name?»

«Is there a rule?»

«What?»

«Should I ask the name of someone just because he asked mine?»

«It’s polite.»

We locked eyes. In spite of myself, I asked him, I don't know why.

«What’s your name?»

«Melton. Just Melton.»

At that point, Enoch Green came outside, with a grim face and bad news.

«Let’s go.» he said, and he called me by his side, taking the horse’s bridles from my hands. He was in a hurry to leave.

«Lilian Bone, I'm gonna find you tomorrow at school, and I'm gonna sit with you at lunch.» He almost shouted.

I didn't reply, I just glared at him.

But he did. He really did. We have been inseparable since then. He worked himself into my heart. Constant, like it was a job he had to complete. It’s in his nature. I like that about him. If he wants something he is gonna put in the work to earn it.

He is still reciting my ballad

«She, looking thro' and thro' me, thoroughly to undo me, Smiling, never speaks.»

«No need to be dramatic. I’m sorry. I’m not sleeping well.»

He steals another kiss. I'm not sure stealing is the right word, since I put my arms around his neck.

«I know. No need to be sorry. I will steal you after the reaping.»

«If we both are still here.»

He must have sensed something in my tone, the fear I'm shoving down my own throat, so he puts my hands on his heart, and then he puts his hands over mine. I feel it beating under my fingers.

«We are both gonna be safe. We have been safe every year. This is not different. We escaped six years in a row. We are lucky. So very lucky.»

«Very lucky. What’s another year?»

«Right! What's another year?»

«Nothing.»

«Louder!»

Rosalind Mauve must have heard us, cause she calls out to me.

«Lilian Bone, we have things to do!»

I roll my eyes, brush my lips against his.

«For luck. I’ll kiss you again after the reaping.»

«Fine.» but he doesn't let my hand go until we rejoin the others. Then, after stealing a glance, he walks away with his cousin, while we go to the only place I won't allow him to follow me.

Deep in the woods there is a safe clearing, where Enoch Green buried our Ma and the twins’s parents. We all go there every year before the reaping. It's an old tradition. When we were little, Enoch Green used to take us, but now we are all grown up, so we go alone.

We go our separate ways, and me and Rosalid Mauve rapidly find the lavender colored stone that guards our Ma’s remeanings.

"Farewell! and when thy days are told,

Ill-fated Ruth! in hallowed mould

Thy corpse shall buried be;

For thee a funeral bell shall ring,

And all the congregation sing”

She softly touches the stone, she cleans it from the leaves like she always does, while I do the same thing to the white stone next to it. Our sister sleeps here, forever.

“Poor Susan has pass'd by the spot and has heard

In the silence of morning the song of the bird.”

Being superstitious as we are, you would think we would refrain from naming our children after tragic poems. How could my little sister escape her death when it was written in her name since birth? If I ever have a daughter I will choose her name from the happiest song I know of, so she’ll die when she is eighty.

But first I have to survive this day.

We sit for a while. I don't particularly love coming here. I don't know where they are, our dearly departed, but it's not here, under these rocks there are only bones. Rosalind Mauve always looks at the graves like they could someday reply to her silent prayers, so I keep her company. The truth is that I can't bear to leave her alone with the dead.

When she is finished we head back to our home.

Last night, while I was searching for blackberries, my sister repaired two old dresses of our Ma. This morning, she dresses herself in a purple shade, more lavender than mauve.

«It was her favourite.»

I believe her, mostly because I can't remember anything about my poor dead ma.

I’m not jealous, the dress suits her more than could ever suit me and I can't complain, because the one she chose for me looks perfect.

A white bodice, sewn on a red skirt. It’s beautiful.

When I look at myself in the mirror, I kinda get where Enoch Green is coming from when he says I look like her. Dressed like this I could almost believe him. I almost love it. How could I not? Everyone would grow to love their faces, if they would see someone they love in it.

I wish I could hug Rosalind Mauve, but today it would make her worry.

Instead, we spend some time doing our hair. I keep trying to make sense of my curls until I give up and let her do it, like when we were little.

She softly hums while she is at it. When she is finished, I stop her from moving away, pressing her hands on my face. I feel her stiffness. I know she would like to open my head, to chase away the bad thoughts.

She knows she can't help me. She crouches next to me and speaks in a calm tone, like she is pronouncing some kind of incantation.

«You are safe.» she says, cupping my face. I nod. «Last year.»

«Last year.»

We get interrupted by Enoch Green's whistle. Our ride to the city is here.

[hrhmiat]

Tall drink of water....

I've often wondered when Michael started recognizing Mia as not just his annoying little sister's best friend but the girl who makes his "heart sing." He freaking writes a song about how much he likes her and feels unseen!!! THEN SANG IT TO HER AFTER THE DANCE WHEN LILLY WAS SLEEPING!!! This scene is certainly underrated. Tall drink of water Can't say how much you want her How long you've tried to stay cool But she doesn't even see you Wait for her in the lobby Your knees are getting wobbly She glides by in her pink dress Towers over all the rest

Hands starting to get sweaty You really think you're ready To take a little walk over there Tell her how much you care What will you say now Will she make your day now She looks this way now Get moving, don't delay now

You think you're ready for your close-up But she's not China doll made-up Or picture-perfect teacup She's more real than any girl you've ever seen You're not gonna make it But this is it, you just can't fake it She's the girl who makes your heart sing Means more to you than anything

She's a tall drink of water Can't say how much you want her How long you've tried to stay cool But she doesn't even see you Okay, so if you're still reading this, AMAZING! :) Thank you! I went down a rabbit hole this morning.... While I wish I had the musical talent to bring this song alive, sadly, I do not. So, this is probably the most self-indulgent thing I've ever done without being the creator or paying someone to create it for me. I usually only play around with AI for fun, silly nonsense. Like asking ChatGPT what I should make for dinner or what is the best brownie mix on the internet? That sorta thing. Today, however.... I dove into a place I NEVER thought I'd end up.... AI music. While I could go into the MANY reasons why AI is horrible for the art/music industry, it can be a tool. Today, I decided to play around with AI music just to listen to what the song would sorta sound like if it came to life. I 100000% support commissioning, but this was purely for entertainment purposes only. I, unfortunately, do not have the money to pay someone to make a whole song from the lyrics! I WISH .... when I win the lottery, I'll do it! Knowing that this won't go viral, nor will I ever post it anywhere else. I just wanted to share this with my group of PD friends. This is just my goofy self geeking out over a fictional character's song lyrics. After much trial and error, I think this sounds well-suited for Michael's first song. (Personally, I think it would probably be way better if some hot musical genius created it, but it's cute enough. :))

What do you think?

[deke-rivers-1957]

Kissin Cousins Review

After Viva Las Vegas went over budget, Colonel Parker as the technical advisor pushed the panic button. The next immediate film had its budget slashed and everything was rushed just to make back any money lost. The production was very cheap despite a somewhat ambitious story of having Elvis play 2 characters.

Despite being made after Viva Las Vegas, Kissin Cousins came out first making for a very jarring experience if seen back to back. A lot of people HATE this movie because of the concept and cheap production, indicating that Colonel's plan didn't work as he expected. After all, if you only spend a grand total of a $1 million dollars on a movie, you only need $1,000,001 to make a profit. Does Kissin Cousins have some good parts to it or is it all bad and should never be mentioned again? Let's find out.

Kissin Cousins is a pleasant opening song. It's not something that blows you away but it's a nice little ditty with cute art. It makes me wonder why we never had an animated film as those were usually way cheaper than a regular movie. Yes animation in the 60s wasn't as big of an industry as it is now, but if Colonel wanted to value cheap production, animation would've been the way to go.

We get introduced to the conflict of the movie: The military wants a military base on the Tatums mountain land in the Smokey Mountains. The Tatums don't want to sell as they don't trust the government. As stereotypical as this sounds, this was a pretty common experience. The only issue I have with this element is that they want to show this as the Air Force, but everyone is dressed in Army uniforms. Josh starts off wearing a more accurate uniform but we quickly do away with that. A sign already that no one cared enough to make things accurate.

We also see very quickly that this movie is so cheap they can't even film b-roll footage of the real Appalachian Mountains. Instead we get Southern California mountains and Hollywood sets. As much as it sounds like a nitpick, the mountains are a mega important part of the movie. Depicting the real mountains would add more immersion into the story by showcasing how these people live. Smokey Mountain Boy as a song doesn't stand out on its own. It does sound lovely in the context of the movie. It sounds like the type of song a military man would sing. We get a dumb joke about mountaineers not knowing how to spell and the girls not knowing what Jodie looks like. If you look very closely we get another sign that the movie is cheap in the form of a faint yellow line in the middle of the screen. That's meant to be the filter that allows Elvis to play both Josh and Josh at once. More on that later.

We find out that Jodie actually isn't their brother. He's a cousin too and my whole world just blew up. This whole time I thought they were all siblings because he lived with them like he's their brother. There's Gold in the Mountains is bad. The lip-synching is non-existent. It's very apparent that neither Azalea or Selena's actress are actually singing. They sound nothing like they're speaking voices. I don't think this song was really necessary and could've been cut if it wasn't for a quota. Ma calls Jodie her nephew and man I want to know this man's story. There's so many ways you can go about this and show how this could significantly impact his character and his decisions.

Pappy is an amazing character. Arthur O'Connell really shows his range as he sounds nothing like Pop Kwimper from Follow That Dream. Despite being the same character of the government disdaining patriarch on paper, you really get the idea that this is a completely different person. Pappy and Pop are similar but are not the same. What I don't like is that his clothes are seen as dirty and full of holes. Jodie and the sisters don't have that problem so unless Pappy just got done wrestling some pigs, this is purely for laughing at dirty uncivilized Southerners. While it is unfortunate that some of them lived that way, this isn't the Tatums' situation.

Ma's an amazing character too and it only highlights my point that she wouldn't accept anyone in the family to be walking around in unkempt clothing. She would've immediately patched up any holes she found. You get the idea that she isn't someone to push around. She respects Pappy's authority but she also has her own authority. Ma is willing to flip Jodie right on his butt if he disrespects her despite Jodie easily being bigger than her. In real life, an average sized woman being able to flip over what I consider to be a 200 lb man would be super impressive. We clearly get the idea that Pappy loves it. He wants his wife to be a strong woman who doesn't take disrespect from anyone.

This whole scene insults Southerners by having them own a Confederate Flag in the house, eat possums and other stereotypical "white trash" food like this is a regular occasion. Like it's something they take pride in eating and wouldn't want to eat anything else. Note: people only eat that when there's nothing else available. It would only make sense if they were proud of Ma being able to make do with what little they had but again this isn't what they're going through. They have pigs so it makes no sense why they still eat possums outside of stereotyping.

We get a visual gag of the captain turning green. This is such a cheap special effect. It looks like they just shined a green light over his face like we're in a cartoon. So bizarre and only exists because "haha isn't mountain food so disgusting." Totally unnecessary especially with how long they drag the joke of no one knowing what an ICBM is. In real life, if this family was as ignorant as the movie makes them out to be, they would not survive.

One Boy, Two Little Girls is a very boring ballad. It adds nothing to the movie and is just filler. We already got a song with him singing to the sisters and learn nothing new. You can just cut to Josh talking to Azalea and Selena about how to convince Pappy. This whole interaction between Josh with Azalea and Selena is weird. We're supposed to think he digs both of them.

Catchin On Fast which is just as shallow. The song itself isn't bad, but in the context of the movie it comes out of nowhere. Josh just randomly picks Azalea over Selena. Yes we get the drama that Selena has to get married first, but outside of that there's no reason for him to pick Azalea. Yes it could be a matter of Josh preferring brunettes but it's never established to be the reason why he likes Azalea more. Admittedly I love that Selena isn't jealous of Azalea or mad that Josh picked her sister over her. In a different Elvis movie we know that would've been a conflict that lasted throughout the whole movie.

We get introduced to Midge and Jodie completely looks smitten. This is a completely different side of him. It's implied that he's had relations with more than one Kittyhawk woman but becomes such a different man around Midge. In that moment, none of the other women matter anymore. Midge is the only woman on his mind and you have to wonder what about her captures his attention. Maybe it's because she's not immediately throwing herself at him or seems interested in him at all. Just by this scene alone, Midge does not give a single care that he's staring at her. If anything she straights up ignores him after they're introduced.

Watching Azalea interact with the Kittyhawks when they give them their own bikinis is the only difference we get. Azalea actively stands up to them and puts them in their place. She doesn't tolerate their actions. Ma puts her foot down when she sees that this turned everything upside down and I can understand where she's coming from. If Azalea and Selena are disrespecting her and the Kittyhawks are causing nothing but trouble, of course she would be upset.

The reporter exposes their plan to get the mountain base and the plan is all coming apart when the general contacts the captain about going up to the mountain. The captain orders Midge to go to Ma and try to smooth things over. Despite this being the 60s, the captain treats Midge like any other subordinate. He's not overly harsh or lenient with her just because she's a woman. Now that's gender equality. She runs into Jodie and at first we think Jodie's going to act like a pig and a wolf. And he does act like that, but what makes this movie better than most is that he gets his comeuppance. Yes it's meant to be a source of comedy but given the 60s, Midge being allowed to push back against horny men is incredible. She grins and bears it when it's the other military men because a lot of them may outrank her and pushing back would be horrific. But since Jodie has no authority over her, she pushes back. In other movies Jodie would be a creep who escalates his advancements after every rejection. But he doesn't. He saw the look on Midge's face when she thought he got hurt. She doesn't actually hate him, she just hates how forward and physical he is.

Based on their social situations, you can clearly see how it influences these women's reactions to male attention. Midge is just so used to men seeing her for her body and nothing else that when in a situation where she can push back against that behavior she will do it, while the Kittyhawks hardly ever see men so any attention or interaction with men would be like giving kids candy after denying them that for so long. And whether he fully realizes it or not, Jodie has to acknowledge that Midge really isn't like other girls but her own person. So he changes his approach to serenading Midge with Tender Feeling. Easily the best song in the movie and actually adds depth to Jodie's character. Even though he's a cocky jock, this song actually matters by showing that he's capable of being more than that. It still fails but even when it fails the only thing on Jodie's mind isn't a notch on his bed post it's WEDDING BELLS. He had full choice of any Kittyhawk out there to marry. He could've married any one of them at any time. But he doesn't want to be with any of them. He wants Midge. You can make an argument that as soon as he saw Midge for the first time, he wanted to marry her. Unbelieveable how this side character in a cheap Elvis production actually has some type of character arc.

Meanwhile, Azalea tries to convince Ma about changing her mind. I know the movie wants to make us feel bad about it, but we don't have any reason to feel bad. I don't feel anything for this relationship. Outside of Josh being different than the other mountain men, there's no real reason for her to like him. I care more about Hezekiah missing Pappy and he's a dog.

So they go to find Pappy and all of the men except for the captain and Jodie get captured by the Kittyhawk women. For once an Elvis character doesn't like being appreciated by multiple women. I guess it's meant to show how Josh is more "civilized" than Jodie. We get another Joe Esposito appearance in this movie and he actually gets a line.

Ma actually gets a song lamenting the loss of her husband. Pappy, Won't You Please Come Home is actually a pretty appropriate song. It shows just how much she loves him. The vocals could be better but it doesn't have to be professional because within the context of the movie, Ma isn't a professional singer. Pitch doesn't matter when you're sad.

We find out Pappy got chased by a bear and got stuck in a tree. The wide shot of him being stuck in a tree is so bad. You can tell this is a stunt double since Arthur O'Connell is too old to be doing stuff like this. Even when you can see his face you can tell he's only dangling on a wire and it's not even clear how he's caught. I get we needed something to get Josh on the family's good side but they could've done this a bit better. You would think this would be when Josh and Jodie would have to work together to save Pappy, but I guess that would've just been too hard to film. Again if Jodie had a real character arc this would be the moment when he realizes "hey Josh just isn't doing this because he's told to. He genuinely cares about us. He acts like he's kin."

We get a good old fashioned hoedown and hi where did all these people come from? Up until now we've had the Tatums and the Kittyhawks as the only people who live on this mountain. So why is there a whole village of people here? It completely changes the Kittyhawk women's reason to exist. If you imply that there's literally no other man on this mountain outside of Jodie, then these women being boy crazy make perfect sense. Now that we know Jodie isn't the only young man, they just look like a stereotype that women are promiscuous.

Barefoot Ballad fits so well with Jodie's character but watch out foot phobic people because it's exactly as it says on the tin. The dancing however, isn't that great. It shows just how rushed this movie's production wise. I guess it could work in that in universe these aren't professionals but as a movie it could be better. This is where the song quota kicks in as we get yet another song in the span of not even five minutes. Once Is Enough is fine but it's still filler. The dancing is still bad as one of them actually falls down and it stayed in the final cut. Based on Pappy's little speech I would've thought he would start singing. Heck even the captain who would later play Grandpa Joe showed he could sing in Willy Wonka so it's not like we couldn't have had a Pappy song.

After all this time, Jodie finally gets a character moment where he warms up to Josh. While Jodie internally realizes that Josh was alright when he saved Pappy, this would've been the perfect moment to showcase that he's willing to compliment Josh. If only he had more of a role in the movie because what little we get shows a pretty engaging character arc. Midge coming around would've been a natural reason for him to warm up to city folk. I could make a whole post about how I would write his character since there's so much potential.

The Kittyhawk women actually play an important role by sending the general in circles. That's what makes this movie great. Everyone has a part to play even if they start off as a joke. Pappy gets in a drinking contest with the captain. I have to laugh that Jodie managed to snap Pappy's suspenders when Pappy tries to run away. It actually adds to Jodie's claim that he's the champion and therefore strongest man in the mountains. Ma makes it clear that they have to talk things over so Josh and Pappy try to make a deal over a game of checkers. Jodie actually tries to help Josh out by getting the captain sober. If only they took advantage of them looking alike and had Jodie disguise himself as Josh. Jodie would have to swallow his pride because he knows if this deal fails, he would lose Midge as she's a WAC.

It isn't until Josh comes up with a deal allowing Pappy to continue selling his moonshine without "revenoor" interference. They also get protection and $1000 a month for the land. The deal goes through and everyone ends up happy. The one thing I wish was better explained is how despite all these people being on the mountain, Pappy is somehow the leader. I think if we had so much as a line about how these people came from distant villages would be enough as it's not like the military intended on buying the entire mountain.

Kissin Cousins (Number 2) is a banger of a song and I really like Jodie's twang when he sings but wow the production is cheap. They don't even bother cropping the shot above where you can actually see Lance LeGault (Elvis' body double) in the background. This isn't the first nor only time either. Throughout the movie and during the song when they switch back and forth between Josh and Jodie, we can see his face by accident. Elizabeth Montgomery in Bewitched had to do something similar when she had to play Samantha and her identical cousin Serena. That episode came out in 1966 and managed to do a better job. A TV show somehow did the same concept better than an actual Hollywood produced film. It's so sad that production was rushed to the point of basic editing mistakes and mistakes in general are left in. Even the ending where the characters hold up "The End" signs feels like this is a cheap high school production instead of a Hollywood movie.

This movie has several problems. As I've said the production is cheap with songs that are nothing but filler and at times have noticeable mistakes, Josh is a very boring character with an uninteresting romance in Azalea, Jodie makes you wonder why they wanted Elvis to play two characters when one of them doesn't even do that much, and they outright insult Southerners by using very cliched stereotypes.

So why do I like this movie in spite of these problems? Because the story has enough good elements that you can actually fix the problems without having to completely change the movie. It's like a Clambake in that I would consider the highlights to be enough to cover the glaring errors in it. If this movie had a different production team or a better budget I would say this story is one of the better ones for an Elvis movie. Therefore I would give this movie a 7/10. This is a movie that best exemplifies how Colonel's interference directly hurt a movie that otherwise would've been great. I highly recommend watching it so you get the perspective of how poorly Hollywood thought of Southerners, yet still have the Tatum family feel like real people.

AN: Shout out to the discord besties for providing commentary about how the Tatum family showcased the bad light Hollywood painted the South in. Especially @grizelda71-blog. Your notes in particular helped me see both the good and the bad in this movie. Also shout out to @smokeymountainboy for your work as Jodie inspiring me to review this movie this month.

Tagging: @arrolyn1114, @thedaisymaisy, @that-hotdog, @peaceloveelvis, @imaginationlast, @fuzzymusic94, @helen06dreamer, @sfull12345, @briefpandatimemachine, @alittlemoreelvis, @lynettethemadscientist, @motht-eeth, @ash-omalley, @spooky-hazex, @teamnefarious, @blighted-star, @ab4eva, @oh-my-front-door, @father-of-2cats, @atleastpleasetelephone, @xanatenshi, @crazymadpassionatelove, @burnthheparaphilia, @aliengoth3 @stormie-ryan23, @yksuwyksud, @tacozebra051, @alienelvisobsession, @vintageoldsoul, @ohmygiddd, @lovininapinkcadillac, @stephthestallion, @mistyspresley, @bisexualwvtson, @ahundredlifetime, @karel-in-wonderland, @elvispresleywife, @georgefairbrother, @moonchild-daniella, @musiclover712, @worldofyns, @sillybookmarks, @g00d2balive, @leighpc, @generoustreemystic, @peskybedtime, @thetaoofzoe, @renegadewarrior, @vintagepresley, @tupelomiss, @myradiaz, @pinkcaddyconfessions, @kiankiwi, @presley72elvis, @delulubutidontcare, @januarypresley1969, @livelaughelvis, @hooked-on-elvis, @slayingjd, @ilivebecauseiamforced, @dusintv, @cattcb, @eapep, @jaqueline19997, @richardslady121, @iloveelvis2, @lett-them-eatt-cake, @if-i-can-dream-of-elvis, and @lookingforrainbows.

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Year-end roundup of theater I saw in 2023:

I saw a lot this year (29 unique shows with a couple of repeats). Part of the reason is probably that I spent money on tickets more freely because I was working a lot more than usual.

Notes or links to separate posts below:

Mean Girls (tour; Pantages) – The strengths are in the original movie material and added character development, while the music is just enough to support the story. Fun, though not sure I'd call it good.

Topdog/Underdog (Broadway) – Fantastic performances from both Corey Hawkins and Yahya Abdul-Mateen II. Not particularly interested in con artist/gambler storylines but it fit the themes.

A Strange Loop (Broadway) – Amazing, totally get why it won Best Musical. Viewing experience was enhanced by a responsive audience. I'm excited to see it in LA and crossing my fingers that it gets a decent reception.

Kimberly Akimbo (Broadway) – Hadn't read much about it and was unprepared for how funny it was and how strong the cast was across the board. Favorite little absurdity was how the show choir kids are slowly drawn into Debra's scheme. The cast recording captures a decent part of the humor and was my most-played album in 2023.

Merrily We Roll Along (Off-Broadway) – Not sure I can imagine a better casting for Franklin Shepard than Jonathan Groff.

Wicked (Broadway) – Hadn't seen it in over a decade and felt like revisiting. It was fine; Elphaba and Fiyero seemed to have good chemistry.

Leopoldstadt (Broadway) – If I had the time and money I would just follow Caissie Levy and Brandon Uranowitz around to see whatever they are in. In a 2+ hour show with no intermission I never got bored.

Frozen (tour; Segerstrom) – Had previously seen this pre-pandemic so most of the cast had changed, though Caroline Bowman was still Elsa and was good. A number of the new cast seemed very young.

The Secret Garden (Ahmanson)

Kristina Wong, Sweatshop Overlord (Kirk Douglas)

The Lonely Few (2x) (Geffen Playhouse)

Sunday in the Park with George (Pasadena Playhouse) – First time I’ve ever seen this show (or listened to the music with any level of attention), and while I enjoyed it for the most part—particularly Act 1—I really struggled to care about modern George’s professional and personal difficulties in creating his art. I did like the music and can’t say I was ever bored, but in the end I was (to my surprise) thoroughly unmoved. One notable thing was that the sound in the theater was great. Everything was remarkably clear and I could understand all of the rapid-fire lyrics very well considering I was not very familiar with the music.

Twilight: Los Angeles 1992 (Mark Taper Forum) – Staged with multiple actors; unfortunately I don't remember much about it as I did not take any notes.

1776 (2x)

Kiss of the Spider Woman (A Noise Within) – The play, not the musical. Enjoyed it, thought Molina in particular was well performed.

Six (tour, Pantages) – Had listened to the studio cast recording and enjoyed it but the songs do tend to work better with the little bit of context provided by the show.

A Little Night Music (Pasadena Playhouse) – Another first-time Sondheim show for me; I liked the music (more so than Sunday in the Park With George), acting was strong, but I had difficulty caring much about the interpersonal drama.

A Soldier's Play (tour, Ahmanson) – Didn't take notes afterward; mostly I remember that Norm Lewis's speaking voice is startlingly resonant.

Tina (tour, Pantages) – Saw this only a few weeks after her death; the Playbill cover had been redesigned to acknowledge it and I think the cast and audience were still feeling that impact. It was pretty good for a straight-ahead biographical jukebox musical.

A Transparent Musical

Into the Woods

Beetlejuice

Les Misérables (tour, Pantages) – Heard the latest tour cast was really good, and it was; it hit the emotional beats well. Particularly liked Fantine (here's a local morning-show performance of "I Dreamed a Dream"), Javert, and Valjean, actually liked Gavroche for a change, and this production got rid of a character direction I absolutely hated (Grantaire's melodramatic wail after the "Little People" reprise).

Heroes of the Fourth Turning

Peter Pan Goes Wrong (Ahmanson) – Entertaining and funny though didn't quite hit my sense of humor dead on.

Here Lies Love (Broadway) – Was really glad to have the opportunity to see this because I missed the original production 10 years ago and regretted it. Sat in the front mezzanine which seemed just fine and provided an overall good view of the action in almost every direction. Particularly liked Conrad Ricamora (very charismatic) as Ninoy Aquino and Jose Llana as Marcos. Staging, audience participation, projections, etc. were essential to communicating the message of the show. I like the music and have the original cast recording but it would be very easy to misunderstand the tone from only listening to the recording.

The Sound Inside (Pasadena Playhouse) – Saw this in the middle of being swamped at work so my memory of this is a bit sparse. I remember being uncertain of how to react at the end of the show (same for the audience I was in) but thinking about it afterward the ideas and themes came together more clearly.

A Christmas Story (Ahmanson) – A pleasant and family-friendly show; lots of kids in the cast. Have never seen the movie. There were some high points (e.g. the big tap number featuring Miss Shields and a bunch of children singing "You'll Shoot Your Eye Out" as Prohibition-era gangsters and flappers) but I was bored for a good portion of the show. The portrayal of motherhood is very traditional.

MJ the Musical (tour; Pantages) – Was wondering how Lynn Nottage would handle the book. At first the "in rehearsal for the Dangerous tour" setup seemed like an interesting framing, but ultimately I don't think it went anywhere interesting dramatically or emotionally, or communicated much that wasn't already known even to non-Michael Jackson fans. The part from the Tony Awards performance is the high point of the show IMO.

[calypsocoverpg]

[Fern, 23, she/her, GMT] is that Fionn Aubin? They bear a striking resemblance to Luka Sabbat. I heard he is a 22 year old human who lives in Barnstaple Point. Word has it they are a Barista/Bartender at The Catch. Hopefully they don’t believe all the myths…

Born in Paris and raised in Los Angeles, Fionn was a child born with a weight of ambition thrust on him even before he could talk or walk. His parents were both successful - his father a plastic surgeon, his mother a professor of history at UCLA - and his sister, a few years older, had set the bar high with prodigal results in literacy and maths. They assumed that their son would follow in their footsteps, be intelligent, be above average at the very least. Unfortunately, they would shortly become disappointed. 

Fionn never really expressed an interest in achieving anything, period. He simply wasn’t interested in school, nor in the extracurricular activities he was pushed toward attending, nor in college or any kind of career. He seemed to live in his own dream world, fuelled by a naive understanding that everything would simply work out just fine regardless of the effort he put in to make things happen. He coasted through middle and high school with barely average grades, slumping to a full out fail at times, doodling on his test sheets and staring out the window when attempts were made to tutor him. It would be different, his mother informed him exasperatedly, if he’d gone off the rails, picked up bad habits from some bad influences around him, underage drank and got a girl pregnant. Or if he expressed a desire to pursue some sort of career in the arts or other path they might have disapproved of. Then they might have had a reason to pin onto his being a disappointment. But there was none of that. He simply did not care nor think about the future. He daydreamed and seemed to misunderstand that time was passing and he was, in their thoughts, ruining his life. None of Fionn’s pastimes were ones he thought of as careers - he played guitar in a few high school bands, but refused to study it further, instead writing his own interesting songs without much care for where it could take him. He read about birds, but never chose to apply himself to biology nor to actually studying the subject. He skateboarded and surfed infrequently, but that wasn’t exactly a career choice. Fionn, in their view, had no prospects. 

His parents decided that enough was enough. Fionn had been given the chance to choose his own future, and he had no decision at all to give them. Fionn was uprooted and moved to a different town, far away from any distractions, to an expensive prep school designed to walk him hand in hand through exams and force him into a better academic situation. If they couldn’t convince Fionn to work at his future, perhaps they could force his hand. But naturally, doing so alienated him even more. He never felt loved by his parents, never felt like he was supported or appreciated unless he fit their mold of what they wanted their son to be. And try as he might, he could never hope to reach the levels of achievement they expected. When high school, an ordeal for him, finally ended he knew he would only be expected to continue onto college, despite his abject lack of desire for an education. When they took him to view a campus, Fionn felt the urge to run away so strongly that he ate a pack of peanut butter cups in the bathroom just to cut the visit short via epipen. He knew now that he had no other option, no way he would ever be good enough - and so at nearly nineteen, Fionn borrowed five hundred dollars from his older sister and used it to get the fuck out.

By which he meant, drive until he found somewhere to stop. And he was nearly out of gas by the time he made it to Calypso Cove, so he counted himself lucky. Fionn’s feelings of being outcast from his family seemed to make the enchantment lift, allowing him as a human to enter the town - although naturally, he wasn’t aware of it at the time. He took a job at The Catch, wanting to be on the beach, and managed to give a full months rent on an apartment nearby, only to be shell shocked when he was asked to make a drink for a vampire on his first day. But Fionn was happy to learn these new things, take it all in. Anything to avoid his previous life.

[shintin]

Table No.13

↳ Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

One-shot 

Summary:  It's 4 in the morning, the end of December. You run to the airport, wearing your famous blue raincoat. Water's dripping out of your hair. It's raining out there. Tokyo is freezing. But it doesn't matter, because you are leaving. But tell me, when did you become brave enough to put it all behind you and walk away as if it wasn't just a desperate bluff?

This is the story of a girl who gets stabbed by the hands of her blue-eyed past, with no questions asked.

Word count: 9.5 k

Warnings: Heavy angst, NSFW content, No character death.

Note: ARTS ARE NOT MINE.

Song Recommendation: Ocie Elliott - Run To You & Mahsun Kırmızıgül - Belalım

Go back to the master list.

You looked out the large glass window of Haneda Airport. The sky was tar-black, and big pillows of cloud were forming, blotting out the old-gold color of the sun. It started as a whisper in the air. You could hear the taps on the window, and then it became a pitter-patter. Up to now, the sky had been postcard-perfect, but it was changing. The beautiful cocktail-crimson hue of the morning was beginning to darken into gravel-grey. The puddles began plinking as the rainfall became heavier. The rain was dancing on the rooftops of airplanes, as if nothing in life mattered at the moment. But unfortunately, that didn't apply to you. There were still things you cared about. As a matter of fact, one of them was sitting before you at table 13, in the coziest spot of the airport, but you preferred to listen to the buzzing murmurs of the rain rather than look at him.

"Come on, Chibi! Don't sulk. Everything will be fine," said Satoru gently, taking your hand in his. He didn't know whether it was possible, but he was willing to do anything for you. You were the best thing that ever happened to him. "Now, you better eat your strawberry cake, or I'll eat it. Do you want me to end up with diabetes?" He was joking; although it was silly, he tried to lighten your mood. But according to your facial features, his efforts seemed not very fruitful.

His thumb caressed the ring on your finger, followed by his lips. "Y/N," he called your name as if it were the only holy word he knew in the world. "No one else can have my heart because you're the only one I love."

The sound faded into a long swirling noise with so much rain falling. Clouds were churlish and Kraken-cruel. It poured into a biblical deluge, flooding the rivers, drowning the fields, and overflowing the dams, reminding you of the cataclysm of Noah's ark. You wished for an endless cataract of water sluicing from the sky. The ache in your heart wanted the trees to uproot, the cars to go bobbing by, the entire villages disappearing.

You turned your face and gazed at his eyes. God, you loved them. They held the whole ocean. When he was happy, they were a clear, radiant blue with slight wrinkles around the corners as he laughed or smiled, and there was no trace of a storm.

But when he was sad? Oh, it was a completely different matter. They turned icy, cold, totally unlike him, blazing with sorrow. There were a few clouds, but mostly just ice. They hurt you the most that you could never forget.

"Satoru, I don't -" Your sentence never ended because he was shattered enough by the sadness bathing your eyes to let you do more harm by transforming them into words. In his opinion, you were everything he wanted, but unfortunately, his family didn't think so. Those ancient walking fossils thought that the heir of the Gojo company should be with someone who would bring benefits to their family and help their business grow. Therefore, even mentioning your name, a common girl without a noble background, was considered a disgrace. Satoru, however, was not the type to retreat. He would give up everything, but not you. He interrupted your words. "I'll never let anyone take you away from me," he murmured, and cupped your face with his big hands. "I love you, Y/N." You heard him. "I'll love you forever." You believed him. "I'll never leave you." You took his words for granted.

Eventually, the noise lessened, and the drops faded into a musical chime. The sun came out again, casting diagonal beams of light across the airstrip.

Fear crept through you, so you kissed him. With love. With lust. With…

You felt his hands surrounding your body, but you wanted more. You needed more. You knew you had to save him for your future days. The days that you would yearn for a bit of touch from him, but a famine would devastate you. You had to scrape off that painful itch in your gut. "I love you, too, Satoru."

You felt his grip on your neck as he pulled you in to capture you for a deeper kiss. Your hands went to caress the back of his neck, tangle your fingers in his silky white locks, and feel his pulse hammering against your palm. Soon he found the taste of salt on his tongue, and the wet drops falling on his cheeks inflamed his flesh. He didn't know whose they were as he continued to try and cling onto you like his subconscious knew it was your last time together.

That day, he left Tokyo for Sendai with high hopes, and you made your way to Osaka. Your hometowns.

You were late. Too late. Why did you always wait till the last moment? You promised you would cut this vicious cycle of being late each time, but it seemed you would end yourself, but not mend.

It was raining as if it was doomsday. The torrential rains had closed the streets, and Tokyo was dealing with heavy early traffic. Cursing yourself, you stepped out of the cab and rushed to the airport with your luggage. You ran to the check-in section without wasting time and promptly put your luggage and backpack on the conveyor. Hurrying back to the control gate, you removed your watch and phone, and left them on the table for security to check.

Attention passengers on Fuji Dream Airlines flight 232 to Okinawa. The departure gate has been changed. The flight will now be leaving from gate 26.

Biting the corner of your lip, you waited for the previous person to get through the body scan, praying for the machine not to beep for you. Each beep and red signal meant a more thorough physical inspection, which would certainly make you miss the flight.

Closing your eyes, you went across the scanner. It was as if the gods were in your favor today. The machine gave no warning, and the officer let you pass by with a smile. You nodded, snatched your belongings, and raced to grab your bags. After all, every second was golden.

Like an automatic robot that memorized the process due to frequent repetitions, your body quickly moved towards the ticket counter. You were panting and searching for your ID card in your messy backpack when the sound of the announcement caught your attention.

Amakusa Airlines regrets to announce the delay of light 4022 to Osaka due to departing at 4:15. This flight is now scheduled to depart at 6:30.

Shit. Shit. Shit. The 'L' in your luck had been replaced with an 'F'.

With pursed lips, you raised your head, and your eyes fixated on the yellow DELAY in front of the Tokyo-Osaka flight information. You sighed and looked at your watch; its hands showed 4:00 am. Oh, well! You had to stay here for the next couple of hours.

A drop of water dripped from your hair on your wrist, just to remind you that you had come out of the rain shower a few minutes ago. Only a fool leaves with no umbrella in the fall. All right, no argument. It sounds like you were a chump.

You turned your head around to pick your next destination. It's not like you didn't notice people's judgmental looks on your wet hair and soaked raincoat. But today, you were tough enough with yourself, and oh, to be fair, you didn't give a fuck about them. You hated all that had a bitter taste of standards and traditions.

Do this, do that.

Wear kimono, not jeans.

Walk with small steps.

Don't laugh out loud.

Only whores lick ice cream in public.

Instead of reading, start cooking.

Men prefer women with long hair.

Ugh! You were disgusted by all these dos and don'ts. So, it seemed pretty normal for you never to miss the opportunity to despise old-minded schnooks. This hatred was a daily routine. After all, you had lost everything because of those imbecile tradition sucker maniacs. You had lost him. Why? Just because you didn't fit into their boxes. And it's not like you were hard-headed. You tried to adapt yourself to everything for him, your…your love, but according to those geezers, people are born as nobles. It is not an acquired trait. Assholes!

You took off your blue raincoat, threw it on your arm, and headed to the graveyard of your memories in the company of your dear luggage. As usual, you walked into his favorite coffee shop and ordered a mocha with caramel. It tasted like the old days. Bittersweet. More bitter now, because the past had hidden nothing but pain for you, yet you never wasted time returning to it. Unfortunately, it was the only place you could be with him. You were a prisoner of the past by your own will. You had the key, but nothing was out there waiting for you.

You were successful and independent now. Exactly as you always wanted. You even captured the memory of those days and placed them in a box. You put them there with photographs, his grandmother's ring, and dried bouquets. The box was their coffin, and you set them to rest with the same reverence as a deceased loved one. The funeral came with tears and trauma, no less than actual death.

Now tell me, darling, you could hide a box under the ground and pretend that it never existed, but you knew the echo of his laughter, the blue sky of his eyes, and the sweet taste of his lips would rise from the tomb amidst the long nights to hunt you till the first rays of twilight.

While waiting for your order to be ready, you turned your head and watched the determined people carrying their bags around.

There was something peculiarly depressing about the airports for you. Maybe it was because the airports were where the final goodbyes were muttered, and it was where your lips and his met for the very last time. Airports were where tear-ridden farewells were spluttered. And it was where you looked over your shoulder one last time as you passed through the security, praying, hoping against hope that maybe it wasn't really happening, that you would see him again.

The barista called your name and snapped you out of your thoughts. Holding your precious coffee in your hands, your steps unknowingly walked you to table 13. Again. Yeah, you used to sit here with him. Every time. Even the last time.

A bitter smile appeared on your lips as you slowly ran your hand across the table, as if your fingertips could touch the past. You sat in your usual chair behind the side table, but your eyes still refused to look at his empty seat after six fucking years. Your hands wrapped around the paper cup of coffee to steal its warmth, while your heart found comfort in watching the rainy sky.

"There is something I have to tell you, Y/N." He took a deep breath, probably the deepest, which brought his lungs to the verge of explosion.

The cold breeze slipped into your room and sent shivers down to your core. You went to the window to close it. The anxiety started circulating in your veins like a deadly poison. "T—tell me," you said, closing your eyes. No good would come of "I have to tell you something".

His heart twisted at the sound of your voice. "This isn't working out for me anymore."

His emotionless monotonous tone over the phone struck you harder than a wet slap. Rubbing your forehead, you pressed your lips together, praying for him not to mean what you feared the most. "Yeah, me neither." You swallowed, and the gulp slit your throat like a broken piece of a sharp crystal. "I miss you too, Satoru."

You weren't an idiot. You just read an article in Forbes saying that thoughts can change reality. Simply put, the brain can create delusions in the mind by denying the truth until the last moment to maintain the mental health of human beings. It is considered a survival instinct, and so far, your mind has been doing an excellent job. But the silence behind the phone revealed a different story. A story that even your brain couldn't manipulate.

"You know what I mean, Y/N." His voice trembled like a flickering flame of a burning candle, but he was fast to cover his mouth with his palm. He didn't want you to get wind of anything. It was for your own good.

"What are you saying?"

Your kind tone made Satoru hate his guts. No! He couldn't do this to you. He raised his head, and his red-rimmed eyes begged for mercy from his father, but he wasn't a man of God. He wouldn't give alms for free. Everything, especially your life, had a price, and he had to pay the cost. "I—I thought," his words refused to come out, but he always wanted the best for you, didn't he? He loved you more than anything, so he had to do this. He had to go through with it, no matter how hard it was for him. "I thought I was in love with you, but it was just a lie." Unable to breathe, he made his way towards the big window of the office. The cold air hit his face as soon as his shaky hands opened it. Was it freezing in Osaka like it was in Kyoto? You hated the cold weather. Were you wearing warm clothes? He bit his fist in a failed attempt to hide the lump in his throat. "I thought it—would work, but—but I feel nothing."

"Wh—y are you doing this, Sato—?" When you spoke, it sounded like your voice was made of gravel. Your clear tone was undercut with a choking heaviness that forced you to pause several times. As clear as spring water, a single tear flowed down your cheeks. Eventually, you stopped trying and lowered your head in a quiet sob.

Satoru leaned his head against the cold glass. He could hear your muffled weeping. God, he hated himself. He hated the sunset outside. He hated his last name. He hated everything between the two of you. "I just wanted to fool around in your bed." He fought back his tears.

"I know you don't mean that," you said, shaking your head. The Prefrontal Cortex of your brain was in denial. "It's not true." You were soft, almost fragile, as if your heart would break any minute. Perhaps it was already broken.

"You know nothing," he raised his voice, banging his fist across the wall. "Have you forgotten who I am? The bottom line is— " A tear burned his cheek as he turned his back to his father. Despite the love you had given him, he had to tear your heart apart to keep you alive. "I never loved you!"

"I don't believe you." The phrases didn't come out sharp, as if your tongue had judged your own thoughts too uninterestingly daunting and abandoned the words before their fruition.

"I don't know how to clarify this to you, Y/N L/N! You mean nothing to me. You were only one of my conquests!" He was lying. Of course, he was lying. He loved you more than words could ever explain. Now he could hear your heartbreak, for he was suffering too.

"You're such a coward! Are you breaking up with me over the phone? With crappy explanations? Is this what you promised me at the airport?" As you spoke, your voice started sharp, but then, you broke down, and before Satoru knew it, you were on the verge of bursting into tears, trying desperately to hide it and keep your words straight and stern. "Tell me the truth! You owe me this, Satoru!"

His eyes widened. You knew him like an open palm. He was always his true self by your side, never afraid to be judged. And for a second, he believed he could tell you the truth, but then he remembered how the compensation was substantial. So he added the cherry on top, the ultimate lie, to make sure you would hate him, that you would hate him and move on. Although the thought of you being with someone else, another man holding your hands, or someone other than him kissing you drove him crazy, but this way, at least you were safe from his father's harm. "I cheated on you, and— and now I am in love with her. I can't get her out of my mind. She is so much better than you in bed, and she doesn't dictate me to quit smoking or eating sweets to become something I'm not! She is not a control freak like you! She doesn't suffocate me as you do!"

After your ears witnessed his words, you bled an ocean through your eyes. Your soul felt wafer thin. Your body trembled and chilled. But suddenly, you stopped crying. Maybe the saddest kind of sadness was yours when your tears refused to drip. It was like the world had ended. You couldn't cry. You couldn't hear. You couldn't see. You became an empty shell that once was full of life. "You're completely fucked up."

"I'm—sorry, Y/N." His lungs punished him. His breaths kept coming in short gasps. His chest felt too tight. He couldn't stop wheezing. There was a hole in his chest filling with emptiness, pain, and unbearable agony. His knees couldn't carry his sorrow. He fell on the empty office floor with his back sliding down the cold wall and silent tears on his cheeks. His beloved dad had left the room, knowing there was no comeback after what his son had fed you.

You could be hurt in any way by another and still bounce back, but he… but he… he did the far worse with just a few small words. "Never utter my name again! Don't you fucking dare to say it again! No!" The bells ringing in your head, you felt terrible pain as if someone had punched you in the stomach. You wrapped your arms around yourself, and your skin chilled from the unforgiving coldness of his tone. The teeth in your mouth chattered together relentlessly and uncontrollably, and you couldn't stop yourself from shaking. The next voice you heard wasn't him saying it was another one of his dumb jokes. No. It was the beep of the phone. He hung up and never said goodbye.

Suddenly the roar of the thunder brought you back to reality, to the airport. You turned your head towards the table and noticed that your hands were clasped around your coffee cup. The sound of raindrops hitting the window made your solitude even sadder. You sighed, turned your head, and your eyes fell on the droplets, sliding on the window, sticking one to another, getting bigger and bigger till falling. Those drops and your love were doomed, destined to descend. Because even when life decided to give you another chance, you became the naive victim of fate's cruel sense of humor.

"Where did I put this stupid piece of paper?" You cursed under your breath and continued looking for a copy of your graduation certificate. You knew your messy ass would get you in trouble one day, and here you were, facing the consequences in the worst way possible. How dumb you had to be to lose your diploma?

You closed your eyes and started rubbing your eyebrows, like Aladdin rubbing his lamb for a genie to come out and help him. But you weren't lucky as that bastard. You were responsible for your shits.

You sighed and stared at your laptop's browser screen. You got rid of everything related to college and those years. You wanted to forget everything about him and his cheating. You had changed your email address, phone number, and all means of reaching you after that incident. You didn't want to be haunted by an unwanted remembrance... of him.

You took a deep breath. It had been a year. But it seemed that even years were not enough to get over what he did to you. He shot you and walked out. You had to remove the fucking bullet from your wound to let the sadness come out. He left you on your own, and to be healed, you hurt yourself in ways he never could. Undoubtedly, one year wasn't enough to fade those scars.

You remembered how you sat in silence for days with tears in your eyes. How you ached and drank enough to numb it. How you reminded yourself every day who he used to be and who he no longer was. Damn! It was one of the most brutal realization you ever had. In the end, you thought you learned to live without him, but again, you never forgot him. That was the funny thing about love, because it took you a long time to endure the pain he caused, but a piece of him always remained within you. You couldn't brush off all the good memories you shared and sweep them under the rug as if they meant nothing. And shamelessly, you missed his touch. Oh, God. You missed the timbre of his voice and the solid sense of his embrace—the curse of a lover.

"No! Don't start again! He never loved you, Y/N!" You bumped your head, dispersing the suffocating thoughts, but like a miraculous blow that makes broken things work again, your brain also began working. The light bulb on your head lit up. Yeah. You had a backup of your documents in your academic email.

Proud of the discovery, your fingers started typing. Thank goodness you could remember your email info. Okay. It wasn't that difficult when the username was the combination of your first and last name, password, and ID number.

Once the green checkmark appeared on the screen, you happily started scrolling through your inbox until you noticed an unread email of a familiar name. A name you buried alongside his. Suguru Geto.

You swallowed and checked the date of the email. It belonged to the aftermath of the doomed incident. While your hands were frozen, your fingers began shivering on the mouse. It seemed like you could flee your past, but it would always catch up. Without noticing, you realized you had been biting your bottom lip the entire time. What was that email about? There were two options. One was to delete it without reading and keep on with your life. The next one was... You clicked on the mail.

Your pupils were moving quickly between the lines. The more you read the email, the tighter your grip on the mouse. Your other hand was on your thigh, clutching your dress firmly, to the extent your nails almost made holes in its soft fabric. With each word read, your right foot subconsciously tapped on the floor.

Satoru— tap.

Loves— tap.

You— tap.

But—tap.

His father—  tap, tap.

Threatened—tap

Him—tap

With—tap 

Your—tap

Life ….

Your foot froze in place. A chill ripped through your spine when you reached the end of the email. Your eyes widened from the shock, and your palm in front of your mouth couldn't cover your bewilderment.

You should have known. You had heard from Satoru how wretched his father was. You should have guessed that he would do anything to achieve his purpose. You should have doubted that he wouldn't spare even his child and wouldn't be afraid of getting his hands dirty. But you were the one who never wanted to believe in the ill-disposed nature. You thought even evils would have a red line they would never cross. But you didn't know parents would break all boundaries on the pretext of wanting the best for their child. Understandable. If he saw you as a snake coiled on his son's shoulders, he would obviously cut your head off. It was unfair, though. You were no snake. You never asked Satoru for anything. You never forced him to do anything. You took all his bad days with your good and walked him through the storm; because you loved him. You loved him unconditionally.

Tears poured from your eyes. All those endless pains, sleepless nights, and restless sorrows were all due to his father, not him. Satoru loved you. He must have suffered the whole time, as you did.

Your hand went to your phone, and your fingers dialed the number they refused to forget after a year. Your heart was a madman, beating the hell out of your chest. You couldn't wait to hear his voice and watch the heartache fade.

"The number you have dialed has been changed, disconnected, or is no longer in service. Please check the number and try your call again if you feel you reached this recording in error."

You lowered the phone and looked at the screen. It wasn't possible that you got the number wrong. Was your mind playing tricks on you? You dialed again.

"The number you have dialed has been changed, disconnected, or is no longer in service. Please check the number and try your call again if you feel you reached this recording in error."

You closed your eyes and pressed the red end button. He had changed his number. You turned your head and stared at the browser's blank page. Silly but possible, suddenly, a thought occurred to you. Something you had banned yourself from doing for a whole year. You looked up Satoru Gojo with the name of Gojo Holding on Google, and as you expected, you found what you were looking for:

Satoru Gojo – Chief financial officer – Gojo Group / LinkedIn

Your eyes were stuck on the monitor. So after you, he agreed to the position. You ran your finger over his name. Your eyes shifted slightly downward. There were pictures of him in suits shaking hands with different people. You looked at his face, white hair, blue eyes, and pale lips. He had changed. There was no trace of his favorite casual clothes.

Subconsciously, your hand moved toward the monitor, and your fingers attempted to caress his cheeks. His usual messy hair was combed in some photos and on the side in others. You smiled sadly. He looked handsome. You had no right to deny it. But something was missing from him. Your fingertip shifted to his lips. There was no smile on his face. In neither of the photographs. What had happened to that goofy Satoru whose grins were his signature?

You clicked on his LinkedIn page, and after finding his contact number, you dialed without hesitation.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Good day, you've reached Satoru Gojo's office. My name is Nitta Akari. How can I assist you?"

"Yes! Hello. My name is Y/N L/N. I'm calling for Mr. Satoru Gojo," you said and bit your nails.

"Concerning?"

"Yes, ma'am, I need to talk with Mr. Satoru Gojo." Every time you spoke his name, your heart skipped a beat. You had called him He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named instead of saying his name aloud.

"Do you have a pre-arranged appointment?"

"Um, no. I—" You were interrupted in the middle.

"I'm sorry, Ms. L/N. I can't transfer your call if you don't have an appointment."

You sighed. "I appreciate that, but this is an emergency. Please, Ms. Alkari, I'm sure if you inform Mr. Gojo that Y/N L/N is calling, he would want to talk to me," you almost pleaded and placed your hand on your pounding heart, praying for the receptionist to accept your request.

"Hold on a second."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You were going to talk with him—your love of life. You were going to hear his sweet voice. What did you want to tell him?

"Ms. L/N? Are you on the phone?"

"Yes?" You opened your eyes, and they fixated on his picture in front of you.

"Mr. Gojo has left the office."

You checked the clock. It was 11 am. "When is he going to return?"

"According to his schedule, he will not return to the office today, Ms. L/N."

"How about tomorrow?" You clenched your hand and felt your nails digging into your palm.

"I'm sorry. He won't be able to visit the office till next week, since it's his wedding. Do you want me to make an appointment for the next Tuesday?"

Your heart stopped. The second hand of the clock stayed steady. The leaves of the tree facing your window didn't move. The bird in the sky didn't chirp a wing. The air lost its way to your lungs. You wanted to grasp for oxygen, but the ache in your chest folded your knees. No tears pierced your eyes as your brain digested the words coming out of the receptionist's mouth. Your hands trembled. Your feet tingled. Your vision disfigured as though you were looking through a foggy window. You fell to the floor.

"Or, if you want, I can deliver your message to him on Monday morning."

You felt your heart would burst. Your chest was one minute away from crushing. The torture was so intense and all-consuming that you no longer knew where you were. You wanted to scream, to shout, louder than you had ever done in your life, but no sound left your throat.

"Ms. L/N? Are you there?"

You weren't sure which was worse, the fact that he was going to marry someone so early, or the fact that you thought he never would. It tore you apart; the way he forgot you like you never mattered.

For you, he was a bittersweet fairytale with a grey ending. He was your hamartia, your tragedy, your addiction. Frankly, he was also the only ray of sunlight in your aphotic world. He consumed every existing part of your soul, leaving you with the crippled remains. You couldn't take it anymore. You surrendered and let it all disappear.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Turning your head away from the glass, you laughed at your misery. He didn't love you. He didn't miss you. He was happy without you, busy living his life while you were still stuck wondering where things got out of hand. You had to stop trying to find closure with someone that obviously didn't care to give it to you. You had wasted years searching for the answers you could never get. You had to put an end to it, Y/N.

This table was doomed. It didn't matter how many times you sit behind it and try to make it a usual, boring place by making new memories. It would never work. This gravestone had your names, carrying the heaviness of your last kiss. So it didn't matter how much you would kill yourself to write a new story on top of your hurtful one. You would fail; because the ink of the bad story hadn't faded away yet for the only good one to remain.

Rising from the table, you shook your head, scattering all the sad thoughts. You grabbed your luggage, picked up your cold coffee, and headed to the nearest trash can at the corner of the airport terminal. You stood there for a while, enjoying the faint sun rays on your skin and the pale rainbow colors in the sky. You delivered your luggage and checked your watch. Huh! You still got a lot of time to kill. So you tried to pass it by reading the magazine covers, hanging around the gift shops. It didn't go unnoticed by you that the airport was getting crowded with the sunrise. Ughh. You sighed and made your way through the crowd, unaware of the ridiculous farce of destiny for you.

Amakusa Airlines flight 4022  to Osaka is now ready for boarding, with all the passengers for this flight proceeding to gate 13.

As you walked past, your eyes fell on table 13, and all of a sudden, your footsteps froze. There was a huge mob moving between you and that table, but after all these years, there was still no way for you to mistake him. You could recognize him by a look alone, by a glance. You would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his fingers touched his hair. This big airport and the packed crowd were nothing when you would know him in death, at the end of the world.

His fingers tapped slowly on the table, and time fell away for you. You had never gotten so lost in a sight before. And then the space between you two exploded to nothing. After being away from him for so long, just standing under the same roof as him felt like you were kicked in the stomach, and your whole breath was gone. Before you knew it, you were already biting your lip from the inside to stifle your tears. No more tears for him, you had promised yourself years ago. But promises were like your heart; they were meant to be broken.

You felt cold like that day. You felt like concrete drying in your chest. There was a shard in your guts that never left, though perhaps in time, the edges dulled. It felt like death, just the same as bereavement, and in a quiet moment, it choked the life from your body. You had longed to see him for so many years that he was beginning to feel fictional, but he was real. He was sitting at table 13. Was it a coincidence? Or did he still remember it? There was a part of you that was desperate to know if your absence had done any damage to him. Did he too, experience long, restless nights due to the thought of you? Was his heart broken in the same places as yours? You wanted to know that you weren't the only one hurting from this. You needed to know that you actually meant something to him.

Your legs wanted to run away, run until they bleed, until they drove you out there, from him. But your eyes didn't allow it. They were filled with regrets; the more they looked, the more they thirsted.

You watched as his hands grabbed the coffee, raised it, and that lucky cup touched his lips. You saw how he turned his head toward the glass window and stared for a while. Without realizing, you took a step in his direction. All the cells in your body cried out for you to let go, but the thought of him was consuming you.

His ocean blue eyes, peeking at you at the sunrise. His childish smiles, gifting you the butterflies. His smooth skin, touching your body like a sin. His vanilla smell, filling your nostrils well. His big feet, touching yours under the sheet. His warm hands, conquering your naked body's lands. His pounding heart, feeling it like a fine art. His naughty desire, red lingerie hugging you like a fire. His tender touch, laving your crutch. His cocky smirk, naming him as the biggest jerk. His rigid muscles, giving you rough hustles. His soft hair, becoming your finger's lair. His overwhelmed sweats, pounding you for sets. His shy groans, getting lost in your loud moans. His spit on your cunt, his cock ruining your front. His throbbing length, taking away your strength. His whispers in your ear, shooing away your fear. His peace in your arms, pushing away all of the harms. His never-ending need, revealing his hidden deed. Your endless meekness, turning into his greatest weakness. Your lullaby as a song, driving away every wrong. His peaceful dreams, hiding his painful screams. His contagious laughter, calling down every disaster. His favorite food, exchanging it with your nude. His favorite movie, turning out to be Snoopy. Reading him books, his kisses on your crooks. His goofy attitude, giving him latitude. His insights about pudding, having no idea about cooking. His eye-blinding light, forcing your soul to ignite. His aspiring ambitions, all dying because of traditions. His family troubles, bursting your happiness bubbles. His gloomy demeanor, rooting in you like a malignant tumor. His brutal fights, giving hell to the nights. His cold distance, ignoring your existence. His habit of being late, keeping your eyes on a wait. His unforgivable mistakes, leaving you with heart-wrenching aches. His deadly silence, slitting your throat with violence. His no victorious wars, gifting you countless scars. His yesterday a history, his tomorrow a mystery. His walking away steps, echoing with sound effects. His beautiful lies, leaving you with cries. His broken bond like a Knife…a knife…knife…k…n…i…f…e…w…i…f…e…wife…his wife…

You stopped. Your eyes followed his gaze, and the ache in your heart grew more painful as they saw a black-haired woman with a bow, wearing a traditional white and red kimono and approaching him with slow steps. This was the girl who ticked off all the boxes that suited Satoru Gojo. Not you. Never you.

You looked up to the ceiling in an effort to prevent tears from falling on your face. A quivering sigh escaped your throat. But wait a little. Whoever created your story was crueler than you thought.

This is the last call for passengers traveling to Osaka on Amakusa airline slight 4022, due to leave at 6:30 am.

"Dad! Look what mommy bought me?" A little girl, maybe 4 -5, with white hair, waved a small package of mochi in her hand and then ran to throw herself into Satoru's arms before your shocked eyes.

As you saw his child, what was once a whole was shattered, where once was peace was emptiness, echoes of a love you put your everything into. If only you could hold your heart in your hands and squeeze it yourself, the pain would be more bearable. Your chest felt tight, like someone was ripping your rib cage open and pulling your heart out of your chest. It just hurt. It hurt to breathe. It hurt your mind wondering why you weren't good enough, why it wasn't you, why you weren't in that woman's place. Why she wasn't your daughter, and it slowly broke you apart. You never thought he would be able to wound you so deeply, cut to the core again. But you got it now. Only the one you loved so much could be your assassin. Of course, it would take an inside job to attack you so resilient. He was the tool of your greatest pain. You knew he didn't mean it, you knew, but in a way, that made it even worse.

You choked back something welling up in your chest. Every few minutes, the pain renewed itself. Your palm flat against the wall by your side, you clenched your eyes shut. "Please turn your head," you said quietly. He couldn't hear you, but it didn't stop you from wishing he would come and save you from the terrible pain you felt without him.

After wallowing in your despair in the lonely corner of the airport, you took a few deep breaths and got yourself together. You always had this constant fear that you were never going to forget him. The way his blue eyes pierced yours or his goofy grin that always made your heart beat ten times faster. And what sucked the most was that he was never yours, to begin with. But you remained desperately in love with him. Damn! It had been six years, and a person could only endure pain for so long. You had to let it all go. The way he kissed you, the way he smelled, the way he touched your waist and pulled you in. You had to let it all go, and you had to let him go. Yes! He was the sweet taste on your tongue of sugar, but he was also the dense smoke that crept into your lungs and choked you. He was the venom in your veins, the tree root that tripped you. He belonged to his family, to his wife and daughter. Continuing to love him was like chasing after the clouds. It was wishing for the moon and the stars to appear in your arms. He was your impossible.

You took one last look at him and the smile on his face as his daughter was in his arms. Your last bit of willpower was lost, and tears began to trail down your cheeks, as you turned and walked away.

To be frank, hearts don't break. It's just another thing the poets say. Hearts are not made of glass, bone, or any material that could splinter, fragment, or shatter. They don't crack into pieces. They don't fall apart. No! You knew it better now. Hearts don't break. They just stop working like yours.

This is the last call for passengers Y/N L/N, Mikasa and Eren Yeager travelling on Amakusa Airlines flight 4022 to Osaka departing at 6:30 am. Will passengers L/N, Yeagers, and Nanami, please go to gate 13, where the flight is ready to depart.

Upon hearing your name, Satoru coughed and spilled coffee over his blue shirt. The hot liquid burned his chest, but not as sour as your name, opening the old, closed wounds. His mind rejected all possibilities. You were there, in the airport, and then it all flowed into his brain, the memories of his youth.

He first saw you sitting in the first row, like a nerd ready to glow.

Brushing your hair behind your ear, you bit all your nails without keeping them dear. You got your score, but he couldn't see anyone anymore.

You were in a hurry to catch a bus when he asked you out. You missed the bus. But instead, you found a new way to your house.

He kissed you under the pouring rain, you standing there wholly drenched without any complain, your eyes closed like a droplet free of every chain. How could you be aware of his bane?

You ate a double burger in less than five minutes on your second date after your third cigarette. Why? Just not to lose the bet. What did he say? Unlucky in cards, lucky in love.

Moaning his name, your fingers grabbed his hair locks, and your holes caught his heaviest flux.

In the darkness of the movie theater, he leaned to utter, "I love you, Y/N." You choking on your popcorn, survived to say, "Tell me that again."

Your laughter the best melody filling the house, when the artist tickled you crazily on the couch.

You left your shellfish-shaped soap on his bathroom side. The reason? It just smelled like the tide. Damn! You never lied.

Your colorful cute little notes in the pocket of his coat, his dad clearing his throat, staring at his son digging his own moat.

You in the kitchen, his hands on your waist, his hums in the air, danced with him there and bare.

Tears fell on the ring that he proposed despite knowing that his dad was opposed.

He waking up with a nightmare, sweats covering his white hair, he would have died if you weren't lying next to him right there. Your fights very not rare, but you were always fair.

Your hands were frozen cold the last day they were in his hold.

He wished you would yell at him on the phone, but you just cried, trembling him to the bone.

Broken pieces of your coffee mug, empty bottles of your favorite wine, his stumbling on the dusted rug, no, you were no longer around.

He walked down the aisle with a woman he had never loved. Thank God you were somewhere alive.

One hand still holding the coffee cup, the other gripped the side of the table firmly, turning his knuckles white. Six years. Six fucking years! And you were here.

"Satoru? Are you okay?" The familiar voice snatched him out of old memories. Turning his head slightly, his wide eyes fell upon a woman bent before him, trying to wipe the coffee stain off his shirt with a napkin. Oh, his allegedly beloved wife, having no other purpose than to please him in her life. The poor woman was unaware that all her efforts were in vain. For not only her white napkin, but there was nothing in this world strong enough to erase your remnants off Satoru's existence. You were eternal, engraved in his soul.

Grabbing her wrist, Satoru pushed his chair back and stood up. Across the airport stood the woman he loved, hurt, betrayed, and forsakened. Across the airport was you, the one who trusted him for years, stayed with him for years, and loved him for years. Unconditionally.

"Satoru, where are you going?" His wife's suppliant voice didn't reach him. Of course, his wife wasn't stupid. She knew that nothing was enough to stop his long steps from running to gate 13, to you, to his lost paradise, but just like Satoru, she endured the marriage for the sake of her loved ones.

You wiped your cheeks with the back of your sleeve and tried your best to take another step in the line. The emptiness in your chest was getting heavier by the time, making it hard to move forward, and holding your shit together seemed impossible when the gate appeared that far away with every passing moment. So you did what you always did. You split the colossal task of surviving into baby steps. All you had to do was, reaching the gate. It was your ultimate destination for now. After that, you would walk to the plane, sit in your seat, and fly away, never to book a ticket from this airport again.

You took a deep breath and begged your legs to drag you one more time as the black-haired couple before you moved forward. You convinced yourself that you were fine, hoping that you might believe the perfect lie, that the scene from a few minutes ago hadn't brought you to your knees.

"Y/N?"

They say different things about the soul leaving the body, but you witnessed with your own eyes how life left you in one breath, just hearing a voice. His voice. You could taste the acidic agony on the tip of your tongue, scorching you to the bone marrow.

An invisible hand forcibly turned your head towards the source of the sound. There he was. Your love. Your murderer. Your salvation. Your deity. Your death. Your hell. Half of your soul, as the poets said.

Your Satoru was standing there with his tall stature, his hands slumped on his sides, a big coffee stain on his shirt, and his white hair ruffled like in the good old days. But it seemed that life wasn't easy on him either. His once bright, bubbly, and even ambitious eyes were gone. There was no shine in them, as if they were blue plastic marbles in a daze. Who had stolen his radiant smile?

But for him, you were still the same Y/N he had lost. Your tear-stained face was puffy and swollen with grief. Your eyes looked tired, and the dark circles under them carried the news of sleepless nights. Yet, in his eyes, you were still the same sun, holding the whole universe together. One glance at you, and his heart started pounding. It constantly pounded, stomping on the shattered remains left of you in his heart. He couldn't stop himself from dreaming of the endless possibilities where you could be together.

He opened his mouth, but none of the words were courageous enough to come out. He stepped forward and raised his hand slightly toward you. There was a long way between you, the bars separating him from you. He could jump over the bars and bridge the gap, but something in his heart was well aware that no matter how far he stretched his hand, it would never reach you.

Hot tears flowed over his face, and he pressed his eyelids shut, hoping his tears would cease. His agitated breathing and tearful eyes remained for a long time as he stood there, statue-like.

God knows how he wanted to say that he missed you, how he wanted to call your name and start a silly conversation the way he used to do. How he wanted to ask you something ridiculous like do you still like cats more than dogs, like what do you think of the color blue, like did he hurt you so much, like were you able to forgive him, do you still love him as he does?

He wanted to hold you tightly, squeeze you between his arms and kiss away all the tears in your eyes. He wanted to sit on the floor of your room again, and you let him kiss you, let him kiss you, and let him kiss you. He wanted to tell you that in all these years, you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, that watching you cover your yawn with the back of your hand took his breath away, that he was sometimes so immersed in the music of your tone that he couldn't understand what you were saying.

He wanted to tell you that if you stay by his side, nothing bad will happen to you. He was about to ask you this at that crucial point, but a sudden certainty struck his chest like a cold fist. He knew he had caused so much pain that probably you wished you were fortunate enough never to know him, that you were one of the billions of people in the world that didn't know he existed. He was sure that you wanted to turn back the clock, go to the beginning, to the day he approached you. Maybe you would want to leave so he could never tell you his name, and you would never fall in love.

"Satoru." Your words broke up, and all you could say were stuttering sounds. You never expected to see him here, with the same longing you had buried in your eyes. Suddenly everything seemed possible to you. How could anything be impossible with him still wanting you? Turning back from this line seemed nothing when you would climb every mountain and swim every ocean just to be with him.

A seed of hope sprouted in your heart, and a faint smile blossomed on your lips. Now with a thing you wanted to name enlightenment, you could see the meaning behind every pain you had borne all these years, and martyrly, you were ready to take more pain, take it all the way if it meant you would be safe in the embrace of his arms. You were in love. You would run to him, even if it were going to ignite you alive. You would still call to him even if you were going to lose your sight. You were ready to let go of your broken heart even if it was going to break you apart.

Your hand took hold of the rod, and as if a new soul had been breathed into you, your legs turned to take the path to him. Satoru's spell broke upon seeing your smile, and a nubbin of happiness slipped over his eyes. He started walking around the bars to get to you. His heart was racing like crazy, couldn't wait to feel you, to take you in his arms.

But suddenly, you stopped, like someone woke you with a slap in the face. The color drained from your face, and joy withered away. The thing you called enlightenment turned out to be an illusion.

"Y/N! Don't run in the airport!" The panting voice of a woman reached you while chasing after a child. Not just any woman, his wife.

"Nooo! I want to stay with my dad!" The white-haired girl reached for her father and grabbed his coat sleeve firmly. "Where have you gone, Pa? I got scared." Pouting her lips, not only did she not let go of Satoru, but she also hugged his knee tightly with her other hand.

His shocked gaze turned from his daughter to you. "Please, Y/N," he mumbled, begging you with desperation glooming in his eyes. He stood there like the whole world was breaking crumble apart around him. It no longer existed, and he knew he had to bid farewell to any chance of being with you. The ache in his heart became more unbearable when he realized he hadn't lost you years ago on the phone; he lost you today, before his eyes. He could see the flames of the wildfire he had thrown you in, because it was also turning him to the ashes. Even on your worst day, you didn't deserve any of the hell he gave you.

And on the other side, you were ready to give it all up — everything. You were half out of your mind with love, and you didn't think twice about throwing yourself into a fire, as long as you could keep him by your side. That was how you loved him. How pitiful.

The researches indicate ways for the human mind to cope with grief: sleep, forgetfulness, insanity, and death. Sleep allows people to take a step back from painful things. Like when someone gets injured or bad news, they often pass out. But at times, the wounds are so deep they don't heal. The saying that time cures pain is a fallacy. Yes, time heals most pains, but the rest are doomed to be forgotten. Rarely it happens that the mind suffers such a heavy blow that it takes refuge in insanity. Because most of the time, the truth is nothing but pain, and the mind abandons it to rid itself of murderous pain. Here comes the last escape way, aka death. When someone dies, nothing can hurt them anymore. At least that's what's being said.

Holding the rod firmly, you stared at him with grief, unsure which of these doors you would walk through after today, but you were well aware that he must have chosen the insanity by naming his daughter after you. You couldn't imagine the anguish he had to go through every time he wanted to call his own blood and bone your name. You had no idea whether he did it to preserve your memory or to torture himself. You didn't know. You couldn't say. Your head was dizzy, and everything hurt so much that it felt like you hurt for everyone who had ever been hurt this way.

You looked at him for the last time, trying to savor the moment. You knew you might not get another chance like this. Then you turned back to him, because you were afraid your chest would cave in and the only thing stopping it was the gasps of air you were taking between your tears. Before you knew it, you were sobbing, muffling your quiet screams of anger, frustration, and sadness.

You used your last remaining strength to walk straight, not to faint. Because you didn't want to give him any reason to come after you, to follow you. You loved him. You had fallen madly in love with what could never be, and no matter what your reasons were, you had to stay away from him. You just couldn't allow yourself to be a homewrecker.

"Mama? Why is dad sad?" The little girl pressed her lips together and looked at the black-haired woman with her big blue eyes. She had heard from her uncle Suguru that his father was once the funniest and goofiest person on earth, but no matter how much she strained her ears, she never heard his laughter. The only thing she remembered from him was the sleepless nights and the stench of alcohol. It gradually evolved into a dilemma in her mind, and sadly, she was too young for her mother to give her answers, to talk to her about the cruelty of her grandpa and her father's old, never-forgotten love.

"Everything will be fine, Y/N," he whispered in a distant, flat, quiet, and lifeless voice like he had promised you years ago on table 13. Still, this time standing there, staring at the gate you left, wondering how many lives it would take for him to finally experience a happy ever after with you.

"Of course it will, Papa."

Did you like this story? Would you like me to write the second part? If so, let me know your ideas :)

Also, your reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated.

[cursestothemoon]

yay for the open requests! I really reallyyyyyy love your Harry's older sister hc, could u pretty pls do more? like their brief life as a family with lily and james, then to the dursleys and then at war, so on. I agree with the anon that did the request, harry does needed a bigger sister❤️

aH I LOVED THESE REQUESTS

YOU GUYS CAN READ THE HEADCANONS THIS ANON IS TALKING ABOUT HERE

ok so this is L O N G i need to add a keep reading tab

alright so let's talk about harry's older sister

so lily and james did not plan you

they were straight out of hogwarts

just having fun

and suddenly lily is having morning sickness and james running into a store to buy a pregnancy test (or whatever the wizard equivalent would be 😗)

james would be so nervous the weeks leading up to your birth

he already knows that you aren't even here yet and there isn't anything he wouldn't do for you

and when you are born

he swears he'd never love anything as much as he loves you

his little girl

this sweet little lump of baby fat that was born with eyes just like his

he'd put his glasses on your little baby face, and he could laugh for hours at the way they just barely sat on your little nose (a miniature version of his)

your chubby little baby hands are his favorite

when you'd plan your hands on his face or wrap your hand around his finger he'd melt

Lily would joke all the time about how she carried the baby yet James is constantly hogging her

I think james would have some serious separation anxiety

Lily would also have trouble leaving you to go do something but she knew that you getting to see other people would be good

james is NOT a fan

and you were a big daddy's girl

"it's going to be alright, darling, uncle Padfoot and uncle Moony will take care of you."

and you'd respond with sad baby talk, something along the lines of 'daddy' and 'wanna stay with you' and you'd get all teary eyed

it's a whole dramatic scene

youre crying

james is about to cry

Sirius is quite literally trying to sob silently into his hand because you just look so sAD

and remus and lily are just

😐

because you guys do this eVERY TIME

there was one time james got back into the car with lily after dropping you off and he was unusually quiet until he kinda just whispered out

"It just feels like i'll never have enough time with her, like one day i'll wake up and suddenly she's not mine anymore."

his tone gave Lily the worst chills, his tone and the fact that she felt the same though never voiced it

honestly

i don't think harry was planned either

he kinda just happened

and they were like

you know what, yes.

so you were two when harry was born

and you LOVED your baby brother

he was so small

so cute

and he had your mum's green eyes

from the get go you were very protective of your little brother

james thought it was the cutest thing

ok ive been avoiding it

but we need to talk about October 31 1981

you were upstairs with our mum and harry

james was downstairs cleaning up from dinner

that was when there was a knock on the door

assuming it was peter, uncle wormtail, james was quick to go open the door

grabbing his wand for protection was the last thing on his mind

the thud of his body was loud

he was killed before he could even open his mouth to warn Lily

the door to Harry's nursery flew open and it all happened so fast

there was screaming

bargaining

a sudden flash fo green before Voldemort turned to harry

his cold, pale hand pushed you out of his way

the prophecy had said nothing about you, so he didn't care for what happened to you he just needed to kill harry

which obviously backfired

half the house was blown up

he was gone

harry was crying

and you just wanted your dad

you found your way downstairs, just barely making it down the steps

lily and james had never let you go up or down the steps on your own

only to come face to face with your dad just lying on the ground motionless

his eyes were still open

now i want you guys to think of the lion king

you know the scene where simba finds mufasa's dead body and just lays with it because he doesn't know where else to go

you just wanted any kind of comfort you could find

so with tear streaks going down your face you slayed next to your dad, getting as close as you could, hoping he'd just wake up

sirius is the one who finds you, asleep next to james' body

it was rather rough for sirius

and he could hear harry crying somewhere upstairs

you wake up to uncle padfoot trying to keep in his tears as he takes in the scene before him

you're just glad to see a familiar face

you run over to him, tears freshly falling as you wail about how daddy and mommy won't wake up

you also gently pull james' glasses off his face and keeping them in your small hand

keeping them safe for him later

you knew he didn't like to sleep with his glasses on

eventually hagrid shows up

you guys know the story

but i will say

it takes a lot for you to leave uncle pads and go with this big strange man

youre basically heaving as you beg to stay with sirius

and forcing you off his hip and onto the bike with hagrid was the worst thing he's ever had to do

even for a two year old, youre eyes held such a strong emotion of betrayal

sirius would never forget it

the dursley's were not fond of you and harry

you had james temper and stubbornness

harry was just a 6 month old baby

doing 6 month old baby things

for the first month you'd ask for james, lily, uncle moony, uncle padfoot, even uncle wormtail on a daily basis

until one day petunia just snapped

you had asked about sirius, or as you called him uncle padfoot, and petunia lost it

she started to shout, her hand coming out to strike your cheek as she told you that no one was coming

not now

not ever

you never asked after that

over time you forgot about sirius and remus and peter

you forgot about the song your dad would sing every saturday morning when making breakfast

or the way your mom would hum when she brushed your hair

all lily and james had become were familiar scents and the same pair of eyes you'd see in your dreams (though for a long time you just assumed they were your eyes, they looked enough like yours)

and you grew up always feeling like you were on the wrong side of a billowing curtain

you and harry grew up only having each other

you were very protective of him

and dudley hated it

because you had James art for pranks

and his art for rarely getting caught

unfortunately for you petunia and vernon didn't need evidence to incriminate you

you were often on the receiving end of disciplinary swats and missed meals

and you'd often take harry's punishments for him

you and harry were also forced to share a room

or cupboard

you let him decorate it with all his things (he didn't have many)

and you guys shared a bed up until you got your hogwarts letter

which that was kept very quiet

you got the letter

and petunia and vernon were just glad to be able to send you and your pranks away

you weren't allowed to tell harry

but you did anyway

secretly

you didn't tell him all the details but you told him that you were going to a school far away and you'd be back whenever aunt petunia let you back

going to school was interesting

you didn't know anyone

bUT HAGRID WAS ALSO THERE TO HELP YOU AND BUY YOU YOURE STUFF AND HE BOUGHT YOU YOUR FIRST WAND

you still have james' glasses

you put them on when youre nervous

so youre sitting in the train

first day

you don't know anyone

big round glasses sitting on your nose as you look out the window barely able to see what's going on

james was as blind as a bat

on the train you spend your time reading your new books

absorbing all the material

you were not going to just walk into this new school of mAGIC not knowing aNYTHING

by the time you got there you were at leas base level with most subjects

some were easier to catch onto than others

as long as you didn't let the logical side of your brain do too much work

within the first week you'd find out about your parents

curtesy of older gryffindor kids who knew your last name and were just amazed by the story

oH ALSO YOURE IN GRYFFINDOR

AND WHEN MCGONAGALL READS YOUR NAME SHE GASPS TO HERSELF

BECAUSE

Y/N POTTER

she remembers when james had written to her with the news of Lily's pregnancy with you

and how he was nervous you'd come out just like him and he wouldn't be able to handle you as well as she had, he was asking her for advice

and when you walked up to sit on the chair she nearly dropped her scroll of parchment and pulled you into a hug

you looked just like him

dark hair

pale skin

same eyes and eye shape

and same habit of picking at the skin around your thumb nail when nervous

the hat announcing you were a gryffindor was very overwhelming for her

then she realizes you

are e x a c t l y

like james

and merlin is she tiRED OF THIS SHIT

ok so at this point i am going to direct you to the other headcanon (linked above) if you want a more fred x reader approach 

continue here if not

so youre on the quidditch team

and youre a natural 

let me tell you

you just have the innate ability 

much like james

and at first they had you as a seeker

and you were good

but you excelled as a chaser 

i also firmly believed that there was a practice broom that james had carved his name into

or maybe just a ‘J.P.’

that was the broom you'd practice on

even use for games before you got your own broom

ok so

let’s talk your relationship with harry 

you made sure you were the one to tell him what happened to your parents

as i said it was your first year when you fond out about what happened 

the gryffindor student had told you what they knew

and you went to professor mcgonagall pretty distraught 

you were near tears as you practically begged her to just tell you what happened, you wanted the truth 

because all your life your aunt and uncle had told you that your parents had been killed in a car accident 

needless to say 

you didn't want harry to find out that way

but you also knew he was noticing the stares

the whispers

so you told him on the first night

he had already been put into gryffindor and was getting ready for bed when you are up to his dorm 

bECAUSE IT’S CANON THAT GIRLS CAN GO UP INTO THE BOYS DORMS AND BOYS CANT GO UP INTO THE GIRLS DORMS AND I WILL CITE THE PARAGRAPH IF ANYONE NEEDS

and you kinda push out ron, neville, and dean 

but yeah thats how he finds out all the details and such 

ok so you and harry are sUPER CLOSE

and you are very 

v e r y

protective of harry 

you'd do anything for the kid 

wHEN YOU FIND OUT ABOUT THE WHOLE SORCERER’S STONE FIASCO 

YOU ARE LIVID

because harry is your baby brother and you love him so much and don't like seeing him hurt 🥺

as harry grows older he gets a bit more

embarrassed 

about having you protective over him

and im pretty sure i mentioned this in the last headcanon post 

but yeah he’d be like 14 and you'd be 17 and he'd just

“stOP this is so emBARRASSING”

what a little dweeb

ok leTS TALK ABOUT SIRIUS 

BECAUSE YOU AND SIRIUS WERE CLOSE WHEN YOU WERE YOUNGER

HE WAS UNCLE PADFOOT

YOU LOVED HIM

until your fifth year (harry’ third) when you were told he betrayed your parents and got them killed 

youre in the whomping willow when with harry, hermione, and ron 

its a lot for both of you

because sirius is seeing his goddaughter who looks just like james, and his the same fire in her eyes as his bestrfriend

his b r o t h e r 

and youre seeing the man who was responsible for your parents murder 

again 

it was A LOT

i have a feeling you, JAMES POTTERS DAUGHTER, would just lunge at him 

and youre crying

trying to hit him

hurt him like he hurt you

just anything to bring pain upon this man

and sirius is having flashbacks of when you had ran to him from next to james’ lifeless body 

and how different everything had been just days prior to October 31 1981

upon finding out the truth 

scammers is now wormtail

peter ‘little bitch ass’ pettigrew

you and harry are immediately forming this connection

this sort of dependency on sirius 

within a few minutes

because he is the only living connection you have to your dad 

apart from yourselves of course

but eh was the only reminder that james potter was a real man 

and lily potter did exist 

and there was a time where your family was complete 

it never crossed your mind that any more misfortune could strike 

not now 

not when you finally got back your uncle pads

and then you guys walk into the moonlight, the full moon light

everything flips instantly 

you guys are back to square one 

i like to think you have a very big part in getting sirius free 

so you guys know what happen in between prisoner of azkaban and order of the phoenix 

and this headcanon is already getting very long and we haven't even gotten to the wAR YET 

so we are doing a little time jump

order of the phoenix 

your last year

you are living with sirius in grimmauld place 

petunia and vernon kicked you out once you turned 17 after finding out that was the legal age in the wizarding world

you and sirius are close 

super close

i mean he is like a father figure to you

he is uncle pads again

oOO AND OK 

SO 

AFTER FINDING OUT HIS DAD AND HIS BROS 😤

WERE ALL UNREGISTERED ANIMAGI 

OBVIOUSLY YOU WANTED TO BE ONE TOO 

youre a gazelle 

it just makes sense

father figure sirius is not happy when he finds out

uncle pads, however, couldn't be happier

its finally starting to feel like a family again

you and harry have sirius 

aLSO REMUS

icon

anyway

everything is falling into place

you and harry are filling the james sized hole in Sirius’ heart (not completely but it’s better)

and he is doing the same for you two

you and harry love your uncle pads

then the battle in the department of mysteries happens 

youre there

you see it 

you watch as bellatrix hits sirius with a curse 

youre not sure which 

nothing too serious you hope, and seeing that he’s still standing he should be fine 

but then he stumbles

she's stunned him perhaps 

and he makes eye contact with you

there was a look so final, so sad

yet so relieved in his eyes as you watched him fall through the veil

remus grabbed harry

tonks held you

if she hadn’t been you knew you would've thrown yourself into the veil after him

its a whirlwind from then on let me tell you

so we know what happens

all that fun stuff 

the war hits

harry, hermione, and ron leave

youre left with the weasley’s 

it’s hard being away from harry

not knowing if he was ok

if he was even alive 

you guys finally reunite at shell cottage 

bill calls you the second he sees harry, hermione, ron, and dobby apparate in front of his house

you were quick to pull harry into a bone crushing hug 

keen on never letting go 

because after all he is still (and always will be) your baby brother 

you guys are all at the battle of hogwarts

oK WAIT

SO

YOU REFUSE TO LET HARRY WALK TO HIS DEATH ALONE

ALSO YOUVE FIGURED WHAT HE PLANS ON DOING BUT NEITHER OF YOU HAVE SAID ANYTHING

NOT WANTING TO ACCEPT THAT THIS COULD BE THE LAST TIME YOU GUYS SEE EACH OTHER 

AND THE RESURRECTION STONE COMES OUT 

BOTH YOU AND HARRY ARE HOLDING ONTO IT 

AND SUDDENLY

SIRIUS 

REMUS 

THERE ALL THERE 

EVEN A WOMAN WITH RED HAIR 

AND A MAN WHO LOOKS PAINFULLY FAMILIAR 

ok so hear me out 

i think harry enjoyed looking at pictures of james and lily

but you didnt

you didnt want to see everything that was taken from you

so you weren’t super aware of what your dad actually looked like seeing as you avoided pictures of him and your mom like the plague 

but you just knew 

and james was standing there

beaming

and he just looked so proud of you and harry 

so did lily 

she was the first one to say something 

“Your father and I are so proud of the both of you”

and you just broke down 

james right there with you 

he watched as you sobbed, choking on your cries 

and he couldn’t do anything about it 

he couldn’t hold you or comfort you

he couldn’t be a dad 

and it broke him

as much as it could break a dead man 

“you’ve grown so beautiful, darling” he'd smile sadly

his voice seemed to bring back all of your memories once lost 

“have you always been here, with us?”

“always.”

“typical, your father shows up and everyone forgets about uncle padfoot”

both you and harry laugh at that 

but the mood was somber 

harry then speaks up

“does it hurt?”

it was the first time either of you had confirmed that you both knew what was going to happen 

“dying? not at all, quicker than falling asleep.”

“will you stay with me?”

“until the very end. 

james is the one who answers, looking teary eyes at his son

and you know you cant go any further 

harry has to do this alone 

its quite symbolic actually 

the one time you'd let go of the reigns 

removed the protective arms you had around your baby brother 

he’d die 

but you had to do it 

so everything goes as planned 

harry dies

comes back

we love a resurrecting king 

and the war ends 

when you got back home from the war 

let’s say you are still living at grimmauld place seeing as it was left to you 

the first thing you do is go through old photos with harry 

any and everything you can get your hands on 

you see your mother’s sparkling green eyes

the same eyes your brother had 

and your father’s unruly mop of curls 

the same wave pattern in your dark hair 

everything finally felt right 

tags:

@pogueslandia

@vsawyer1989​

@lifeofkaze

@siriusement

@erinruby003

@maybesandohnos

@onlyfreds

@fullofsourgrapes

[theduckeminence]

So I believe I have decided Piandao’s fate for the Avatar!Pakku au (made some alterations to the au so here we go)

WARNING: This contains references/mentions of pro/stitution, r/ape, and death.

In this au, Piandao is the son of footsoldier Masao of the Fire Nation and an earth nation civilian named Citra.

Masao met Citra in the Gaojing Red Light District within the fire colony of the Hu Xin Provinces. Citra was a low-ranking prostitute in the impoverished parts of the district, hence why Masao was able to afford spending the evening with her.

When Citra found out she was pregnant, she couldn’t afford any sort of medicines or proper remedies in order to rid the child. So she had no choice but to go through with it.

When Piandao was born, his mother decided upon caring for him anyways, hoping that maybe if she can work harder, she can care for both her and her child.

Unfortunately, when Piandao was only 5-6 years old, he found his mother brutally assaulted and dead in her room after spending the evening with one customer. He recalled her yelling, but wasn’t aware that it were yells for help.

Following her passing, he became an obedient, silent ghost—wandering around and accepting any sort of small job offered by pitying House owners. Usually as a very minor Wakaimono or male servant. He rarely ever interacts with the courtesans and mainly cleans.

During his time as a servant, Piandao could only earn just enough to feed and shelter himself, hence constantly working hard everyday. He only wore the baggy uniform given to him by his bosses and the rags he had been wearing since he grew out kg a bundle

He never really interacts with other kids since he had mostly seen girls attending to the courtesans and rarely any boys his age. Either way, most kids found him too quiet or shy to talk to.

He could never speak, no matter how hard he tried, though it wasn’t so much of an issue as long as he does his work and earns his pay. There were a few occasions however some adults would complain about his lack of word (He was nonverbal at the time, but didn’t know).

Piandao admired and loved listening and watching the Geishas play/sing their songs as well as other types of performing arts. He finds that it helps motivate him to do work and appreciate the arts more (a small part of him wished to learn something like that).

At the age of 9, Piandao meets a man by the name of Master Eun-U—a highly regarded swordsman. When upon seeing the young boy work, Eun-U asked the owners if he may have the boy.

The owners, of course, were not too easy on handing their servant over to a stranger (as Eun-U was in disguise). But with a nice sum paid to them, the owners happily sold away their servant boy.

Eun-U brings a confused, yet quiet Piandao home to the small town of Nashikami—which close by to the hidden Herbalist Institute. From here on, Eun-U has Piandao work as his helper/assistance—while allowing him to live within his small, yet comfortable home.

The older man also teaches the boy how to read and write in both western Earth Kingdom Dialect and Fire Nation. This is what later on leads to Piandao to speak out loud.

This is remarkably the first time Piandao had ever fitted into cleaner, more fitting clothing while also eating a hot meal with better quality tea on the side. The boy sobs when he realizes this one night during dinner.

Eventually, at some point, Eun-U decides upon teaching Piandao how to swordfight in case of defense and combat—wanting the boy to reach for that unused potential.

Over time, as Piandao stayed with Eun-U—the older man saw Piandao as both a pupil and a son, whereas the boy viewed the swordsman as a father figure.

[cinnamonest]

Albedo idol girl darling thoughts M A N I F E S T E D

----------

Well, to be entirely honest, he thinks the whole idol thing is a little dumb.

For someone like him, at least. He's a PhD student in his final semester, lots of work to be done and all that. So, you know, he's a responsible, accomplished adult. Not the kind of person who gets into "that stuff," as he calls it in his head.

Nor does he even know how he encountered it... He just takes the occasional break from work to mindlessly open whatever app first pops into his vision and scroll through the feed. He's never watched anything like it in his life, so he's not exactly sure why he gets recommended some idol girl thing, and even less sure why he taps it without really thinking. Probably one of those videos that gets recommended to everyone. Well, can't be that, it doesn't have that many views... Probably loosely connected to some video game he's searched before or something. He's familiar with idols and what they are, and the subculture surrounding them, but he's never really cared about it.

Honestly, it's kinda pathetic that a bunch of grown adult men get so obsessed over these girls, he thinks as he watches. He's seen the type. Lonely, asocial dudes, most definitely virgins whose only female attention in their entire life is their mother, well into adulthood with no real social group to speak of.

...Not that he's much better off, but he hasn't quite sunk down to their level. The only reason he doesn't talk to people much is because they're busy, and he's even busier. He managed to make a few friends in undergrad years. Well, study partners who mooched off his notes since he was one of the top students, but same idea. They were people he spoke to more than once, which is what constitutes a friend, right? And for the record, one time in high school a girl in his class said she liked his hair. He hasn't changed the way he wears it since. Whenever he's sad, he thinks about that compliment from 10+ years ago, and it makes him feel a little better. But now, he's constantly slammed with work and research.

And his acquaintances are also all busy. He sees notifications every now and then from social media he never checks. Everyone is getting married at this stage in life, both friends and even other PhD students in his department. Not that he's ever been invited to a wedding, he just overhears a lot of conversations, sees notifications of posts. And he will too, eventually. He just has to finish up his degree, and then... Meet a girl. Well, that's actually the second step, step one would be finding out how to go about meeting a girl. He's... Never done it before. Probably does not happen sitting in the research lab at 11:30 pm on YouTube. He's talked to one of the other PhD students who's a girl before. And only stutters sometimes. He was even able to look her in the face while he talked to her once. That's a good start.

Ok, so maybe he is a little bit pathetic, but not as bad as... These guys. Reading the comments of the video actually make him feel a little better about himself, because frankly, they're kinda wild. The worship and fawning over girls is one thing, but they even have timestamps referring to various members like "she's super cute here!" Or "you can kinda see her thigh at 3:12!" Etc etc. Yeesh, creepy. And they get into comment fights over who is the best member, as if it even matters. It's fascinating in a human-social-experiment sort of way, the manifestation of a subculture and how humans interact with each other. On and on it goes, hundreds of commenters. He pays more attention to the comments than the actual video, but the song is kinda catchy in that annoying sort of way, and the girls are cute, just kinda... The typical thing he'd expect from idol groups. But the building will close soon, so he taps back to home screen and swipes the app closed.

Unfortunately, the algorithm remembers.

And he's not certain why he clicks the next one either, the following day. The lunch breaks he takes are usually pretty rushed. Not that he has specific class times at his level of academia, but he likes to get his work done. He intentionally eats either a bit later or earlier than the lunch crowd to avoid crowds and interactions. Finds a nice secluded little table tucked away. So when he opens it back up, what do you know, several more videos get recommended. It's absent minded when he taps on one, the kind of numb-brained entertainment every modern person indulges in, videos you wouldn't really be interested in but just watch because they're there.

Ok, this is really creepy. These dudes have made compilation videos of close ups of each specific girl. It's the same group as the video he saw before, same little lewd costumes. Admittedly the girls are kinda cute. He can kinda understand the appeal. But he's not like those guys, he would never become like, obsessed with them.

The song is actually really catchy. The kind of mindlessly addictive, repetitive pop music that's the same four chords over and over, each song is so similar you can't really tell them apart, but it gets stuck in your head anyway. This group has... nine members. Who needs that many singers in one group? It's not like a band or anything, they all just sing and do their little choreography. Guess that's a form of talent, even though he doesn't really get it.

Some of the groups he sees in recommended videos are cute and wholesome, and while this group is cute too, there's a very... Blatantly intentional lewdness to their poses and costumes. A hypersexualized sort of cuteness. Clearly marketed at lonely losers who have nothing better to do with their time than obsess over a girl who will never even know they exist.

He taps another video.

So many compilations, yikes. He has to give the guys credit, they're insanely loyal to the individual member that they decide to fixate on. Oh, and they even make official figurines and posters for these girls, that's... Something.

And a few days later he can kinda recognize the girls. They have color themes, you know, identical costumes except each girl's is a different color. This lead one is red, this main backup is blue, etc etc. Lots of bright colors. Kinda hurts his eyes to be honest.

And he's seen compilations of every girl except... The pink one. The pink one is always kinda off to the side. Well, these groups do have their favoritism, there's apparently one or two lead singers in all of the major idol groups, and the rest are basically backups and dancers. Still, a lot of dudes get super devoted to the non-main girls. So yeah, he's never seen a compilation for the pink one... He can't always exactly remember which one is which but now he's seen enough to know the other girls' names. He's not sure what hers is though. So he googles it and gets the name.

Wonder why she doesn't have as many videos...? Oh, it's because she's the newest member. Only been around a few months. There's... A whole board dedicated to the group, which he's getting this information from. Wow, pathetic. What kind of person spends their free time browsing a forum for an idol group? Well, he's just doing it to find information, not for fun or anything. He was just curious. Now he knows and he can forget about it and never look at anything related to them again... after he types her name and group name into the YouTube search bar and checks the results out, that is.

Oh, so they do have some compilations for her, just not many. "(Name) thigh compilation." Fuck, these people have no limits to how creepy and pathetic they can get, he thinks... as he watches the video. Ok, admittedly there are some good thigh shots there. There's a comment. "At 4:26 you can see her panties." Pathetic. They're not wrong though. Just to be sure, you see, he tapped the timestamp, and you can, in fact, see them. Stripes. Cute.

But he still has to do his work. Can't get too invested in watching mindless videos all day. He's got a thesis to work on.

That makes him curious, though, he thinks as he goes about his research. Do these girls go to school? Do they like, skip college, or do they join some kind of performing arts school or...? So he googles it. He can remember the pink one's name now, so he just finds her Wikipedia page. Oh, so she joined right out of high school and has been in various groups ever since.

Wait, various groups? So she has more groups she's been in? What are those? Before he typed her name into the search along with the group name, but if he just searches her name he gets... A lot more content from earlier years. Huh. Didn't know some of them did group-hopping like that.

Still, no education. Must be all smiles and body and no brains. Guess that's all you really need. Yeah, looking at that whole act they do... All giggly and childish and lewd... She's probably not too bright. At least she's pretty and sings nice. And the thighs are rather good. Smooth looking. They have a sort of jiggle when she jumps up and down on stage. The thigh highs they make those girls wear have that nice little dip where the skin is compressed by the fabric. Like... right there at that closeup. He takes a screenshot.

It's readily available, he's already seen the video and knows the best parts, whereas searching for porn would take time. The sooner he can get the daily stress relief out of the way the sooner he can work on his thesis. So this way is faster. That's why he's jerking off to the thigh video and not taking the time to look for porn. Plus, it makes him cum faster. Which it probably shouldn't since it's just thighs, but... Probably has something to do with the tease of it all maybe. That makes sense.

Or maybe it's that cute little giggle he can hear at some parts. She smiles and jumps and spins and laughs.

...It makes him wonder what she'd look like crying. Scared. Whimpering. Covered in bruises and bite marks. The contrast between that state and the one on the screen. The process and the things he could do to get her from one to the other. Yeah, he realizes, it's that thought, rather than the happy giggling on video or tease aspect, that makes him cum.

He's aware that his... tastes... are a little on the fucked up side, but hey, there's plenty of bastards out there far worse than him.

One day he discovers she has social media platforms. He... Doesn't really have any. He doesn't have Twitter or Instagram or any of that but... He downloads the app and makes an account for each. Just to follow her. Ooh, they even have the option to get a notification every time she posts... That's good. Otherwise he might check too frequently. He sets a special sound effect for notifications for her socials. The first few times, you see, he would get super excited when his phone went off, only to be disappointed when it was just a work email. Thus, he made the separate sounds.

He wouldn't say he has a favorite, that sounds really cringey you know? He just... Likes her more than the others. ...Dammit, that's what a favorite is. Ok, maybe he has a favorite, that's not that bad. He's not obsessed. He hasn't bought any merchandise at all or anything, especially not member-specific merchandise. Which they do have, because he visited the store page for a while and spent all his willpower physically restraining himself from buying something. It's not that he's biased, he just thinks she's objectively better than the rest of the group. Which can be backed up with evidence, anyone with eyes could tell by watching the performances.

As to what specifically draws him to her... he's not certain, to be honest. Maybe it's because she's the least appreciated out of the group, new and all. The less popular one. Or maybe her personality... She seems so sweet, even though he knows it's probably just an act for the fans. Or maybe just those thighs. That's also a valid possibility.

He cracks and buys some of the merchandise. Only about $300 worth. But honestly, he gets more invested into just printing out pictures of you. Pasting them onto the wall above his desktop. It keeps him going when the nights are hard.

But he refrains from ever commenting on anything. Some of these losers are just... so embarrassing, he can't stomach the thought of being associated, even if it's just an anonymous comment online. It's still pretty... Distasteful. He still browses the boards every day. You're his lock screen now. And home screen. And also your solo is his ringtone. He only sets his phone on sound when he's alone at home, though, when he's at work he puts it on vibrate. He... doesn't want anyone hearing that. No offense. He has some appropriate amount of shame, unlike the other bastards.

And the girls probably know that most of their fans are these kind of loser men, right? She'd probably be surprised someone nearly graduating with a chemistry doctorate is sitting around watching these dumb videos. Is that more or less pathetic? He thinks less, hopefully.

In fact, the other fans kind of irritate him. They're really cringy and annoying and it gives him secondhand embarrassment. And something... Deeper. Something about seeing the comments upsets him on a visceral level. It's gross. Sure, he's grateful for the dudes who sit around and make a list of timestamps for upskirt shots and the like, but... It kinda bothers him, feeling like there's some other dude out there sitting around, watching these long videos with his gross eyes and recording the times of shots that get him off. It feels gross. But more like... A violation against you. Sure, your group is very blatantly sexualized and intentionally risque in clothing but... Still, it feels wrong for someone to go through and get to see all of that.

Well, someone else. It's ok for him, since he's not a gross degenerate like the rest of them. He does genuinely see himself as... Above them. You know how like, back in the day, how the nobles used to sit around and watch plays from the far back while the peasants gathered around the stage? It's like that. He's not a gross loser or a NEET or anything like that. He's got a life. Well... Not a social life, but he's doing better than them, at least he has a degree, and soon a higher degree, and a job. He has a lot of things they don't. Basic hygiene. Student loan debt. And uh... Well, he's probably more pleasant to interact with, at least he's not gonna be frothing at the mouth like an animal if he saw you in real life. He would certainly freeze up, but that's preferable, isn't it?

And one day there's a video circulating in the idol community - not that he's a part of it or anything, he just keeps getting the dumb videos and watching them for mindless entertainment - where some girl group had an attempted kidnapping. Not her group, but some other group. The video has gone viral. Some dude tried to rush the stage and pull one of the girls away. Apparently the cops found he had an obsession with her.

What an idiot. If you're gonna kidnap someone, put some effort in, jeez. It's not hard to figure out how to do it right.

If that were him, he wouldn't be that stupid, he'd just look for an interval where she's alone. They have those solo or breakout group songs where some of the girls are backstage, just get her then. Memorize the concert schedule, wear something over your face, chloroform her, and stuff her into something and walk right out. Easy.

....

He catches himself in the thought and realizes that might have been a bit creepy, but he was just thinking in terms of hypotheticals. If he was the kind of crazy to do that, that's what he'd do, that's all.

He's always enjoyed entertaining strategic thoughts, really. He's had a couple fantasies about how he would commit murders of this or that person before, and he's never murdered anyone, so thoughts don't lead to actions. He just... Really doesn't like those people, and the fantasies help him... Deal with it. He just likes to strategize about methods, and how he'd get away with it... Stuff like that. Actually, he's convinced it's a very normal thing, but no one wants to admit it. Everyone has detailed murder fantasies every now and then.

Which is why this is no different. He's just strategizing because it's fun. He has no intentions of doing anything for real. He just plans out the details like a game. And tells himself to just never think about it again.

Until one specific night that he's staring down at his screen. Lying in bed. He should be asleep, he needs to be up early tomorrow but... He's just checking to be sure he's reading this correctly. You're coming to his town? He wouldn't think so, since it's not too big, just your average college town. But still, you'll be right here, right in his general vicinity, not far away at all.

Not that he'd ever actually go to such an event. No way. He hates crowds with a passion. He hates loud environments even more. A concert is like his worst nightmare. Besides, knowing the general audience of your group, it'll be a bunch of sweaty NEET dudes who haven't showered in a month and haven't crawled out of their house in even longer. No thank you.

But.

That's when the thought pops back up. It's been a few months since that night he had that strategizing fantasy, and, well, he tried to forget it but... It kinda lingered in the back of his mind. And now it's back in full force.

He shrugs the idea off. It's crazy. He'd never actually do something like that. It was just a fantasy.

...But he could get away with it if he wanted to.

He's not scared or anything, no, he's confident in his strategizing. He knows he could. Totally. It's foolproof. There's no need to carry it out to know that, besides, what would he even do with you?

Well, he's pretty certain he does know what he would do with you. He's watched that thigh video maybe a hundred times now. And even if he won't admit it, he's jerked off to the exact same fantasy for like, several months.

He doesn't really... Think about it. Just kind of slips into subconscious actions. Autopilot. One click and well, there goes $400 on an amp case. His eyes gaze over the dimensions... And then there's your height on the Wikipedia page... Yeah... That should work. He gets it sent to the address a few doors down just in case, and snatches it from in front of their door, but he finds himself backpedaling. What the hell is he doing? He would never actually go through with this, what a waste of money... But he still opens it. Sets it beside his front door. Tests the wheels to make sure they work.

He knows how to make chloroform. He doesn't need YouTube tutorials (unlike a certain someone else), he knows exactly how to do it, even alternate methods besides the usual acetone and bleach combination - so long as you end up with the same chemical makeup, it's all the same. He just goes with the traditional way though... Doesn't really know why he does it. Just mutters as he stares down at the concoction wondering why he wasted his time... But he pauses before pouring it down the sink, and instead puts it in a container and keeps it on the counter. Your weight is on Wikipedia too. Taking into account your height and weight you would need about... Yeah, a very specific amount to knock you out for about three hours.

The concert day draws closer and closer and he can't sleep very well. His mind keeps running what-ifs. Just, hypothetically, what if he did go through with it? What then? What would he do long term? How would that all work out?

Well, you'd probably hate him for a while, right? But that changes. Stockholm syndrome sets in. He would know, he had to take Psych 101 back in undergrad, and the professor talked about it for a full 10 minutes, so he's basically an expert. It's been like, 7 years since then, but he still kinda remembers it. He remembers that it's supposed to set in at about 2 weeks, and solidify with time. If the captor is nice, that is, which he totally would be. ...Maybe not in bed, but most of the time. He would be nice to you, and you would start to like him. Besides, they said Stockholm syndrome set in faster if the abductor has good qualities, so, he could also reason with you, remind you that you're lucky you got abducted by someone with money - or, well, he will have money once he graduates! - and isn't some ugly gross slob. He's clean and neat. Sorta... He'll clean up all those dishes that have been sitting there a few days now, pick up all those clothes off the floor... Ok, now he's clean and neat. And, uh, what else would girls care about... He's smart. He's pretty sure he can say that with confidence, if nothing else.

Ok, so, it would work. He could... Keep you kinda... Tied up here... If you started complying within that two week period, he could get you up and walking before atrophy set in. You'd probably have to get used to the lifestyle... Right now he's kinda on a budget, but, he can get you things to keep you occupied... And so, yeah, it could work. It's simple, just keep you with him and isolated for a few weeks and uh, you'll transform into some kind of hypersexual obedient cumslut and never want to leave. That's... How Stockholm syndrome works right? Maybe he should have paid more attention in that class... Oh well. He never liked psychology.

So the day draws nearer and nearer and he starts really getting into the right... Headspace. It's a sort of manic state that he's in. Operating without really thinking, all inhibitions removed by simply refusing to think about it. He lets the subconscious take over and do all these little things to prepare, until finally that day is tomorrow. And then he kinda snaps back to full awareness and questions, again, what the hell is he doing? He can't just... Kidnap a person! Normal people don't do that... It's illegal, he'll get caught, it'll ruin his life and....

What life does he really have to ruin?

That's the thought that sort of solidifies the decision. He realizes why he's even on this path in the first place. Sure he's got a lot of academic accomplishments, but his life is... Rather empty. He doesn't really have anyone. Maybe that's why he's slowly become... Consumed by this obsession that yes, he's now willing to admit to himself is indeed an obsession. It's kinda slowly taken over his everyday life without him even noticing it was happening. He's... Kinda miserable. And very lonely. And... If nothing else... This one girl makes him feel kinda happy.

... Which is why he's going to go through with it.

And he slips back into autopilot, ends up standing outside the building. It's every bit as loud and headache-inducing as he knew it would be. Ugh. He can't wait to get out of here. If this doesn't work, well, he'll be forced to turn around. The plan is a very simple one, actually... Act like he's supposed to be there. And he does. Dresses in all black like stage technicians do, dragging his big amp case behind him, holding a bunch of cords from random things he grabbed in his house, and tries not to look nervous, keeps a neutral face and walks straight forward and... He slides right in. The security guards off to the side don't even bat an eye.

And then he has a moment of "well, I didn't expect to get this far." Pauses. So uh... what now? Well, probably should find you first. He memorized the setlist, so he knows when you'll be off... And alone. Right now there should be three of the girls backstage. It's pretty easy to find where you are, but he's paranoid that the amp case is too loud as he's dragging it around. It's necessary, though. And then, finally, he stumbles upon the room... Opens the door, half expecting to be immediately stopped, but... He can just kinda waltz right in here, some open backroom, a person here or there coming through, a lady that looks like a makeup artist doing something over there, and an actual, real tech guy over there... And over to the far back corner... Oh. That's you. He takes a moment to revel in the sight, unable to move or even breathe, and has to mentally prepare himself before moving forward. He's... Not sure exactly what to do at this point... It's kind of perfect, to be honest, there's no one around you, and you're right out of sight, where he could turn the corner and not be seen. But he's not sure how to... Approach? He thinks about it as he walks, but again, autopilot is on in his brain and he's just numbly walking forward. Does he just... Keep walking until he's right at you and just... Or...?

And a miracle happens. You hear someone coming and you turn and smile and ask are you the tech guy here to fix my mic? You point to the little microphone attached to your face. They told you someone would be coming to fix it before your next song. You presume that's him, since he's dressed in all black like all the other stage techs. He hesitates a moment, wide eyed, but then nods. Yeah, that's him, he says. His voice cracks when he says it. It's kinda cute.

You smile at him. It's wide and sweet and genuine and it almost makes him pass out on the spot. He has to swallow for a second before continuing.

But, uh, he can't do it right here he says, because fiddling with it could disrupt the uh, frequencies, cause that really shrill sound you hear sometimes. So, um, come over this way a sec, over in this dark corner of the studio conveniently out of the view of all people and security cameras. You don't know how any of that stuff works, so you trust him, it's his job after all. So you get up and straighten your little skirt out - wow those are even more revealing in person - and walk over it the dark corner where he's waiting and... it's the last thing you remember.

He does a quick look left and right to ensure no one saw you collapse in his arms, but sure enough, this area is empty. You fit into the amp case with ease. Just curl your body up and pop the lid on. Wait, can you... breathe in there? Well, it won't take long to get outside. He just rolls the case right out the door, right past the guards again, and no one stops him, no one suspects a thing. Puts the case in the backseat, opens the lid, does a quick check go make sure you're breathing alright. So he props it open by keeping a book in between the case and lid as he drives home.

Once he does get home, he just does the same thing he did before - close the lid, roll you into the elevator and up the stairs and into his place, looking back over his shoulder over and over. And once he gets you inside he just kinda... falls to his knees. Shivering. Disbelief. Because holy shit he actually did it. He actually went through with it and it worked. He sits there and stares at the case and - oh, fuck, gotta open it again for you to breathe. Actually, he might as well... take you out... when he first shoved you in, he was so high on adrenaline he didn't really process any of it, but now... he almost can't bring himself to take you out. That means he has to, like, touch you. He's gotta take a moment to mentally prepare for that. So he does. Deep breaths. And finally, with trembling hands, pulls you out, carries you on shakey legs over to the bed and sets you down.

You know, you're a lot... Smaller... Than you looked on screen. Sure, he knew your height and weight but... somehow you still seem so much smaller than he expected. That's good. Will make everything a lot easier, since you're easier to restrain. And your thighs. They're... so soft. This is so much better than the video. They're so... fleshy and warm in person. Perfect. And wow, that skirt thing is... scratchy. Actually, up close, that whole outfit thing you wear looks super uncomfortable. It probably is. ...Well, guess he now has a reason to take it off.

The rest of your skin is... also fleshy and soft. Warm. Your face... chest... stomach... everything. Your tits are really cute, too. It occurs to him that all those rabid commenters on all those boards and videos would probably kill to be him right now, pinching and squeezing at your nipples. He's seeing something they will never see. It gives him an ego boost, to be honest, makes him feel proud to get a sort of one-up on them. He gets you naked, but refrains from pulling your legs apart. He probably... wouldn't be able to control himself, and he's aiming for some self-control right now.

So he waits. Breathes deep. Restrains himself with every ounce of willpower he has. It occurs to him he has no fucking clue what he's gonna say to you. Unfortunately, that thought occurs to him as you're starting to twitch and mumble, so, he doesn't have too much time to think. Oh, fuck, you're not restrained... well, he bought some duct tape and handcuffs and blindfolds off of amazon too, so he quickly puts those in place as you're starting to wake up, and then finally, you come to full consciousness -- that telltale jerking at the restraints, the muffled little cry of confusion and fear. It's kinda hot to be honest. Well, fuck, very hot actually. You're so scared. It gives him a rush of power. Said rush goes straight to his dick.

He's got a mixed twist of guilt and arousal at the whole thing, but... he's still trying to have some self control... and if you start begging and pleading and crying, it would be too much. Oh, no, not that it would be too much in terms of guilt, no no, just that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from fucking you if he sees you cry. So he leaves the restraints on for now, so he can't see your face emote.

Then, he does something really, really mean. He knows it's cruel, honestly, it's just... so cute. What that is, is that he does nothing. Says nothing. He goes about his work, typing away, knowing you can hear, but doesn't say a word. He knows you're awake, he just wants to see how long you can sit there scared out of your mind before you finally make another noise to draw his attention. Right now, he thinks, you're probably debating, you're probably questioning whether you should keep quiet and make him think you're still out or make a noise... but eventually you will. He can see you trembling. You're probably thinking so many horrible things right now, wondering what will happen, what he'll do to you... it fills him with a sort of sadistic glee that overrides the guilt it comes along with. Sure, the guilt is there, but fuck, he could almost cum just watching you shiver, and that's more important.

And you finally make a noise. A little whimper. He stops typing, and swears he sees you tense when he does. And when he stands up, walks over to you (making sure to stomp hard and walk slow for extra effect, watching the way you curl in on yourself with each step he takes), and stops right in front of you. Finally, tells you not to scream. He's gonna give you water, ok? You nod. And, surprisingly, you don't make any move to scream or anything, you let him give it to you. You don't move a muscle besides your shaking and sucking the straw and swallowing the water. You must be really scared of him. He knows that's technically not what he should want, but... it feels nice.

He spent that time of silence coming up with what to say to you. He says that for now, you're going to stay right here. Don't ask questions. Don't make any attempt to escape. If you really need something, tap the headboard until he hears. Understand?

You're... Surprisingly receptive. You give a twitchy smile and stammer out an o-okay. He's almost pleased, but quickly realizes what you're doing.

You've been trained for this, you see. This kind of thing is attempted rather frequently in the industry. You received training for this situation - comply, don't fight, prioritize your safety, because in 99% of these cases, the missing idol is found and recovered within 48 hours. So you do what you were told to do -- smile, pretend you're ok with it, don't do anything to anger your captor.

He knows that too. He doesn't do much in that 48 hours, in fact, he even tells you he's waiting to "see what happens." He knows he can't control himself very well, so he stays in his living room for the most part and works on research, it might be pointless if he's in jail a few hours from now, but oh well. Sleeps on his couch. He offers to feed you, but you say you don't feel good. He understands.

See, in his mind, if he gets to fuck you once or twice and then be hauled off to prison and never touch you again, well, that would be actual, literal torture, so much so that never fucking you at all would be more bearable. So that's why he forces himself to wait now. He feels like he can't breathe, he's so nervous, like any moment police are going to come knocking on his door. Every little sound makes him jump. He can't sleep.

But 48 hours pass and... nothing happens.

He breathes a bit easier. Finally dares to go online, which he's been avoiding, and check on your situation... Oh, wow, social media has exploded over your disappearance. But... They have no leads. Nothing. Says she basically vanished out of thin air. Situation is, quote, "looking hopeless." Huh. He did an even better job than he thought he did. There's videos from loved ones begging the captor to let the girl go, offering to give him money even. A lot of money. But, you're more valuable than any monetary measurements could ever conceive. And he's happy. It really worked out. Everything went right, and for once, he has something that really, really makes him happy.

Likewise, the 48 hours are even more torturous for you. You start out telling yourself it'll be fine. Hopeful. But that hope in your chest slowly, gradually dies out as you realize you've hit the 48-hour mark. Even for a normal missing person, you've always heard that if they don't find them within 48 hours... the chances of ever finding them goes down significantly. But, that's because they're usually dead, right? And this guy won't kill you, so, your chances are better, right...?

He comes back after that 48 hours and finally, for the first time since you woke up, crawls onto the bed, touches you, grabs your hips with his hands. Tells you that, well, they haven't found anything yet and it looks like they aren't going to, so you're officially his now, and he's no longer worried. You should accept it. It'll make things easier for both of you if you do. You'll get adjusted in no time, you'll see.

Unsurprisingly, you're a bit less compliant than you were when you had hope. You whimper and and struggle, but it's really weak. So much so it's cute. You ask who he is. No one important, he says. Just... A fan of yours. You can hear clothes shuffling. He doesn't waste time, he's already waited two whole days suffering, so he gets his dick in you pretty quickly. Manages to make you cum. It horrifies you and kinda surprises him too to be honest. You must kinda like pain, huh. Well, that works out well.

As time goes on, what hope you had left dies completely. Weeks pass. You realize they're not coming for you. In an attempt to get you to accept it, he even shows you that you've been replaced. They're rather quick to fix the absence. They have a new girl in your spot by the end of the month. He quickly realizes maybe he shouldn't have told you, from the way your face falls and you get all hysterical. Sorry. It's the way the industry is. Don't worry. She's not even half as cute as you.

He shows you the announcement when they close the investigation, too. This also earns a rather hysterical response, but he thinks it's important you see it, so you can finally come to terms with your fate, the way things were always meant to turn out. He gets a bit frustrated. Just accept it. It's not that hard. The sooner you do, the happier you'll be. It's for your own good that you accept it.

And you do. Try as you might. You begin to make conversation. He's the only source of interaction you have. You learn about him and his life. You become invested in it. You start to cum more easily. When he's sitting on the opposite side of the bed typing away, you find yourself slowly wiggling your way over and pressing yourself against the warmth, and he certainly doesn't mind. You ask him about his research just to hear a voice talk.

And sometimes you sing. It's absent minded, soft and quiet, when you have nothing else to do. He likes that a lot. You get sweeter. Nicer. Fight less. It does take a bit longer than two weeks to set in fully. But it does in the end.

He can't be with you 24/7, as much as he would like to be, so sometimes he has to tell you to just hang on a little while. Be good and sit still for just a bit. He'll be back soon. Just give him an hour. You're just really distracting and, well, his progress report is due tomorrow morning.

And you keep getting upset over the new member, bring it up a lot... It must have really bothered you, huh. Well, don't feel bad about being replaced. To him, nothing could ever replace you... you're still his favorite.

[helloalycia]

teenage dirtbag [one] // wanda maximoff

summary: when you're paired with the most popular girl in your grade for Chemistry class, you definitely don't expect to start liking her like that...

warning/s: none i don't think??

author's note: okay so i have a ton of requests to work through but i got sidetracked and before i knew it, five parts of this imagine were written.

It's based off the song 'Teenage Dirtbag' and idk, i thought it was cute to write! Who doesn't love the popular girl!wanda and loner!reader concept?

Here’s a cover of the song to listen to because i really liked it and a girl sings it so it immediately made the song 10x more gay, just how i like it 🥰

masterlist | wattpad | part two | part three | part four | part five

"Are you all comfortable?"

The class stayed silent, watching our Chemistry teacher, Mr. Hale, as he looked to everyone with a raised brow.

"You all like who you're sat with?" he asked again, as if expecting an actual response from someone.

I exchanged questioning glances with my best friend, Y/BF/N, who was sat beside me. It was the first day back in Chemistry class of our final year of high school and we were just waiting to begin.

"Anyone?" he asked, looking around.

"Yeah," a few students mumbled in response so we could move on.

He clapped his hands together. "Great! Well, don't get too comfortable because I made a seating chart."

A chorus of groans erupted from the class, including from me and Y/BF/N. Every other class had successfully managed to not give us a seating chart. I'd heard that Mr. Hale was an awkward teacher who hated students (ironically), but I didn't think he'd stoop so low as to pair us with students who weren't our friends. These new seats were also our partners for the rest of the year and were non-negotiable, so any projects or work we did would have to be with our seat buddy. Fun.

Students began to shuffle to their newly-assigned seats reluctantly as Mr. Hale read out the chart. When Y/BF/N left my side, I frowned dramatically, waving goodbye to him.

"Wanda Maximoff, you're now partners with Y/N Y/L/N," said Mr. Hale, making me look up at the mention of my name.

I didn't get chance to register what he'd said as the aforementioned girl soon approached me, settling her bag on the table beside me. I looked up and saw Wanda Maximoff smiling my way before taking a seat on the stool.

Huh. Wanda Maximoff. She was one of the most popular girls in our grade. Everybody loved her, either wanting to be friends with her, be with her or be her. I'd personally never crossed paths with her apart from the few classes we shared. She seemed nice enough, but I guess I had preconceived notions of what she was like since she'd made the very poor decision to date the most obnoxious guy ever. Anyone making decisions that terrible definitely had a flaw.

She had a twin brother, Pietro, who was also in our grade and played on the football team alongside her boyfriend. Her parents were good friends with mine, through mutual friends, I think, as I recalled my mum mentioning 'Mrs. Maximoff's boy' or 'Mrs. Maximoff's girl'. And I remembered when her family moved into our town back in second grade.

Admittedly, Wanda was the star of the show back then, too. We were only kids, but child Y/N wasn't blind. She was the first girl I'd crushed on, an innocent child crush – the crush that made me realise I liked girls. Apart from that, and the fact that she had a locker behind me in the hallway, I never really thought about her.

I glanced behind me, catching Y/BF/N's gaze across the room as he sat beside some other kid. He frowned, implying he wished we were partners, and I knew just how he felt.

Once Mr. Hale finished assigning seats, he gave us five minutes to get to know our new partners as he struggled to find the powerpoint for today's class. If there was anything worse than getting assigned seats, it was ice breakers.

"Er, well, hi," Wanda greeted, turning to face me. Green eyes sparkled brightly behind a friendly smile. "I'm Wanda. But, I mean, we already know each other."

"That we do," I said with a nod, returning her smile. "How're you doing? Your summer go well?"

She ran a hand through her hair, adjusting herself so she was comfortable on her stool. And as she did, a waft of her perfume washed over me and I blinked, trying to ignore how nice it smelled. Floral. Subtle. It suited her.

"Good, yeah," she answered with a nod. "Could have gone on longer for all I care."

I chuckled. "I feel that. I'm definitely not ready to be back."

"Right?" she said with raised brows. "It's gonna take a while to get back into routine, that's for sure. But I guess I did miss seeing my friends everyday."

I hummed in agreement, eyes flickering to Mr. Hale as he attempted to tackle the oncoming stream of animations on his powerpoint. I tried not to laugh as I looked back to Wanda, who clearly noticed the same thing as me and stifled a smile.

"Have you had Mr. Hale before?" I asked, nodding his way.

She shook her head. "Nope. You?"

"Never."

"Sucks that he makes seating charts," she said with a sigh, before realising what she said and looking to me with panicked eyes. "Not that I don't like you or anything–!"

"It's fine, I get it," I cut her off with an amused smile. "I wanted to sit with my friend, too."

She breathed out quietly, a hint of relief in her eyes, and scrunched her nose with an apologetic smile. Okay, yeah, maybe that was kind of cute. Older Y/N wasn't blind either. Wanda Maximoff was beautiful, with long brunette locks and matching hazel eyes that seemed to change from blue to green to brown in a kaleidoscope of colour. A winning smile and soothing voice was enough for anyone to fall for her unintentional charm, but it was purely admiration. Everyone pretty much had a mild crush on her, you'd be stupid not to.

"If we're gonna be working together, d'you wanna get the whole awkward number exchange out the way now?" she asked, half joking, half not.

"I– er– sure," I stumbled out rather carelessly, before cringing internally. Where did that come from?

Thankfully, she didn't seem to pick up on it (or just saved me the embarrassment of acknowledging it) and was already writing her number on a slip of paper. Sliding it my way, she capped her pen and gave me her signature smile.

"Thanks," I said with a nod, accepting the paper and pocketing it. "Can't wait to start those lovely science projects we've got coming up!"

She let out a quiet laugh at my sarcasm. "It'll be fine. You're not dumb, right? So, we'll be fine."

"Can't promise you that," I joked, making her roll her eyes playfully.

"Maybe if we–"

But she was cut off when Mr. Hale spoke up loudly, interrupting everyone's conversations.

"Five minutes are up, let's begin!"

I wondered if everyone was thinking the same thing as me – that was not five minutes.

"So it begins...," I mumbled to myself, facing forward.

Wanda breathed out, a stifled laugh, probably having heard my comment, and I couldn't help but crack a smile. Maybe I judged her too harshly. She wasn't actually that bad.

—

Since being paired with Wanda, I was surprised by how much she'd made an effort to befriend me outside of class. We'd always been back to back with our lockers though not quite speaking, but since becoming Chemistry partners, she'd wish me a good morning if she caught me, or greet me briefly as we collected our books.

She didn't have to, but I could see why everybody liked her now. She was just genuinely nice. Due to circumstance, we'd become partners, but rather than leaving it at that, she made a genuine effort to befriend me. And not even just me, but also Y/BF/N, who was at the locker next to mine. He was as surprised as I was, expecting Wanda to mind her own business as we weren't exactly in the same social circles.

This was, I guess you could say, the start of our friendship. And it was a good one at that. I grew to learn how funny she was, how much she loved her brother, the passion she had for art and painting... she was a wonderful person. Which is why I didn't understand why she was with her boyfriend, Nate. He was a grade-A dick and everything Wanda wasn't. How were they a thing?

It sounds like I'm being a bitch and judgemental, but he really is the worst. The few unfortunate times I shared a class with him or caught sight of him around school, he was causing some sort of trouble with the teachers or picking on students in a way that made it seem like a joke but everybody knew it wasn't.

For example, there was a time when Wanda and I were studying for an upcoming Chemistry test we had. We decided to just help each other study since we already worked together in class, so knew we could motivate each other to actually put in the work. It was, maybe, the fourth studying session we had, and I was going over some notes when I felt her eyes watching me.

"You need a hand?" I asked, unable to take the staring any longer. I looked up at her, quirking a brow.

She seemed to fall out of her daydream and straightened up, eyes flickering to mine. "Huh?"

I gave her an awkward smile, unable to maintain her gaze. "You're staring."

She didn't seem fazed as I called her out, instead leaning back in her seat and continuing to study me curiously.

"Did you do something different with your hair?"

Subconsciously reaching for my hair, I straightened up my ponytail and shook my head. "No...?"

She chewed on her lip, saying after a pause, "You tied it up. You usually leave it out."

Did I? I wasn't sure. I just knew that her noticing something like that made me feel self conscious all of a sudden.

"It looks good," she decided, before offering up a small smile. "You should do it like that more often."

Quickly, I felt warm. Was it stuffy in here or was it just me? God, compliments already made me feel stupid. And compliments from pretty girls made me feel ten times that. It didn't help that she was watching me with an endearing expression, making me focus on my book before me.

"Thanks," I got out quickly. "I– yeah."

Her smile widened before she looked back down to her own book. Suddenly, I became acutely aware of the way her leg brushed up against mine under the table.

Thankfully, the strange fuzzy feeling following her compliment faded and we were able to get back to work without her tuning out again. As we were going over each other's practice questions, an annoying voice shouted from across the library.

"Wanda, head's up!"

"Hey, no talking in the library!" a librarian hissed at the voice.

Wanda and I looked up just in time for a football to smack me in the side of the head. I didn't even see it coming until I felt the thing slap my head, giving me an instant urge to strangle whoever threw it.

"Fuck," I cursed, holding my head and closing my eyes to breathe through the pain.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" Wanda's voice made me open my eyes and I saw her leaning forward, hand resting on my shoulder and the other on top of mine that was clutching my head.

"Been better," I admitted, trying to make light of the situation because as angry as I was at the idiot who threw it, I was also embarrassed because it hit me.

Wanda seemed concerned as she gently pulled me hand away, not letting go as she got a better look at the side of my face which I was sure was burning red. At least that's what it felt like.

"Shit, I'm so sorry."

I looked up and saw none other than Nate Green, Wanda's boyfriend, hovering and stifling a laugh as he looked at me. He had his stupid varsity jacket on and I was tempted to strangle him with it.

"I thought Wanda would catch it," he explained stupidly, before moving around the desk to collect his football.

Breathing out through gritted teeth, I pulled away from Wanda and nodded reassuringly. "I'll be fine. Just need an ice pack."

"You're such an idiot, Nate!" Wanda snapped, looking to him with a glare. "You need to watch what you're doing!"

He smiled sheepishly, making me roll my eyes and clench my jaw at the heat on the right side of my face. Fuck, that really hurt.

"What did you want?" Wanda asked him with a quirked brow. She definitely wasn't impressed. I'd hate to ever be on the wrong side of that condescending glare.

"I thought we could go out," he said like it was that simple.

"I'm studying," she quipped with crossed arms.

"I'm happy to wait," he said, toying with the ball in his hands.

Knowing I definitely didn't want that, I closed my books and said, "It's cool. You guys go. I think we're done here anyway."

Nate grinned. "See? S'all good."

Wanda ignored him and looked to me with worried eyes. "Y/N, are you sure?"

"You know your stuff," I said, referring to the work. "You'll be fine in the test. I'm sure."

I offered her a small, forced smile, before standing up to pack my bag. She did the same, beginning to pack her own things, but her eyes kept flittering towards me.

"D'you want me to go to the nurse's office with you?" she asked, shame laced in her voice.

"It's fine, I'll be fine," I said, hurrying up with my actions so I could just get out of here whilst I still had (some of) my dignity left. "See you in class tomorrow."

She nodded, sending a guilty smile my way. "See you tomorrow, Y/N."

Without giving either of them a look, I shouldered my backpack and left the library. Just another reminder of why Nate Green was literally the worst person ever.

—

Liking Wanda as more than a friend wasn't something that happened for a while if I'm being honest. I guess I started to enjoy her presence more and more the longer we spent time together.

I'd come to appreciate it whenever she'd say something completely out of the blue that made no sense whatsoever, or whenever she'd laugh at something I'd said that was arguably not funny but she didn't want to make me feel bad, or even whenever I teased her about something stupid she did, resulting in her doing that cute little nose scrunch she did. But I didn't think of it as liking her, more just a randomly-formed friendship that I was glad to have.

Maybe it was this misinterpretation that didn't make me see how I was acting around her, such as the time I was in the dinner queue at lunch when I realised she was stood behind me.

"Oh, hey, Y/N," she said when she noticed it was me in front of her. Her usual bright, friendly smile was on her lips as she looked to me. "You good?"

I nodded, returning her smile. "Yeah. Just getting some doughnuts for Y/BF/N and I. You?"

"Same," she said, before nudging the guy next to her, who I recognised as her brother. "Pietro and I thought we'd treat ourselves."

At the mention of his name, Pietro looked down to his sister before his gaze fell on me. A mischievous smile appeared on his lips as he put out his hand.

"Pietro Maximoff," he introduced. "You must be the Chemistry partner, Y/N, right?"

I raised my eyebrows with surprise as I shook his hand. "You, er, know who I am?"

He glanced at his sister with a cheeky smile. Wanda was avoiding both of our gazes, her cheeks dusting pink.

Clearly saving face for Wanda, he said, "We've been in the same grade since kids, right? 'Course I do."

Despite the truth to his words, something told me that wasn't how he knew who I was. Especially since I was sure I'd never spoken to him in my life. But, to save Wanda the embarrassment of clearly having spoken of me at home, I nodded to Pietro.

"Right," I agreed with an amused smile. "Duh."

I moved down the queue and grabbed two doughnuts from the display, putting them in two separate paper bags.

"Dibs the last one!" Pietro exclaimed as soon as I returned the clippers to the display. He reached around his sister immaturely and bagged the last doughnut.

Wanda rolled her eyes. "You know I can ask for more, right?"

Pietro grinned, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Go on then."

The two were twins, but they couldn't have been more different. I simply revelled in their interaction, finding it adorable.

Wanda did as she said, asking the dinner lady if there were any more doughnuts in the back. Unfortunately for her, those were the last for the day, making Pietro laugh as Wanda pouted.

"Sucks to be you," he teased her, as I paid for mine and Y/BF/N's doughnuts.

"I hate you," she mumbled playfully, but I saw the disappointment in her eyes as he lovingly but annoyingly waved his bag before her eyes.

Without even thinking much of it, I held out one of the bags in my hand. "Here. You can have mine."

Wanda looked to me with surprise. "Are you sure? I can live without a doughnut, if that's what you're thinking."

I chuckled, grabbing her hand and making her take it. "It's okay. I wasn't in the mood anyway."

Plus, you look better when you're smiling and not pouting, I added in my head.

She accepted the bag reluctantly. "I– thanks. At least let me pay for it–"

"It's just a doughnut, Wanda," I teased, before nodding her way. "See you later."

Leaving her and Pietro to it, I headed back to the table Y/BF/N was sat at and took a seat opposite him before giving him his doughnut.

"Sweet," he said, quickly opening the bag before realising I didn't have one. "Where's yours?"

Over his shoulder, I saw Wanda and Pietro taking a seat at their lunch table, doughnuts in hand and a heartwarming smile on Wanda's lips.

"They ran out," I answered Y/BF/N. "Wasn't in the mood anyway. Enjoy."

He shrugged before digging in. I'd like to say I didn't spare glances in Wanda's direction every now and then for the rest of the lunch hour, but I'd be lying if I did.

—

I'm in the art department. You okay to bring it here?

I read over the text Wanda sent me before shooting her an 'okay' and heading to the Art department. I'd grabbed her notebook in class earlier on, only realising as I was studying with Y/BF/N in the library and pulled out an extra one, so I was going to give it her back.

I guess, when you realise you like someone, it comes randomly, suddenly, without warning. Liking someone isn't instant, it's constant and gradual and subconscious. I guess I'd been falling for Wanda for a while, without even realising, but today was the day I acknowledged that fact.

The Art department wasn't somewhere I frequented regularly – give me a paint and brushes and I'd probably present you with a finger painting – but it was definitely worth the visit. Art pieces from current and past students were hung on the walls, a mural of the school was spray painted on another, and sculptures stood around. The whole department brought a smile to anyone's face with its bright colours and open space – I could see why Art students always hung out here, Wanda included.

Speaking of Wanda, I found her in one of the classrooms sat at a stool in front of a series of canvasses. The room had a few other Art students littered around, working on their own pieces during their lunch period, otherwise it was empty.

"Hey," I called, getting her attention as I approached her.

She followed my voice and straightened up with a cheery smile. "Y/N, hey. Thanks for coming. I'm working on my Art project, so I couldn't pull myself away."

I waved my hand dismissively, joining her side. "It's all good, don't worry." My eyes wandered to the series of canvases on easels she was working on and widened. "Holy shit, these are so good."

Three unfinished hyperrealistic portraits of people were before us, one whom I recognised as Pietro. The paintings were so detailed, despite their medium-size, and I couldn't imagine how long they must have taken.

"You think?" she asked, glancing between them. "I think I messed up the nose here." She pointed with the back end of her paintbrush to the nose of Pietro. "It's a bit bent."

I almost laughed as I looked to her with disbelief. "Are you kidding? Wanda, these are amazing. How did you even do this?"

She looked down bashfully, a nervous smile on her lips. "I don't know. It's for a project. I chose to do family portraits." She pointed to each one as she said, "My mum, my dad and my brother."

I was in awe of her talent, jaw dropped with amazement still. I always knew she was an artist, but I'd never actually seen her work. I was starting to wish I'd come here a lot sooner.

"So, you got my notebook?" she asked, pulling me back into reality.

I looked away from the paintings reluctantly before getting her notebook from my bag and holding it out for her. As she accepted it, she must have forgotten she was holding her paintbrush as the tip brushed my wrist, leaving a swipe of red there.

"Oh, my bad," she said with a laugh, before setting her notebook and brush down and grabbing a paper towel from beside her.

Wetting it with water from her bottle, she pressed it to my wrist and swiped the paint away. It was such a mundane action, but the way her fingers gently held my wrist and emanated a warmth only she seemed to carry sent shivers down my spine.

I glanced up at her, letting her do it, and noticed the swipe of paint she had across her cheek, as if she'd touched her face without realising.

Now that I paid attention, I noticed how cute she looked in her Art getup. An old, oversized shirt covered in paint was being worn to cover her clothes, sleeves loosely rolled up to her elbows. Her long hair was tied back into a ponytail, but her baby hairs framed her forehead adorably.

When her hair wasn't in her face, her eyes only seemed more intense, glistening with excitement and happiness. I almost forgot to breathe when they met mine briefly, a hint of embarrassment there from when cleaning me up. She was in her element here and it made sense to me now.

I knew I'd fallen for her.

—

"You don't get it," I was saying to Y/BF/N as we hung about the school gym, waiting for the teacher to start the lesson. "It's bad. I like her. Like, like like her."

Y/BF/N laughed, clapping me on the back with pity. "You're screwed."

I frowned. "I know."

As he stretched for class, he continued, "I mean, I get it, I do. She's super nice. Pretty. And you guys seem to get on."

I chewed on my lower lip worriedly.

He gave me a knowing look. "There's one problem though."

I groaned, running a hand down my face. "I know, I know. She's got that dick of a boyfriend."

He chuckled. "That's one way to put it."

I sighed, crossing my arms with annoyance. Since realising I liked Wanda as a little more than a friend, things weren't going well for me. Whenever we worked together, I'd forget what I was thinking because I was too busy admiring her side profile or getting lost in her eyes. If she spoke about the work, told a joke or was simply speaking her thoughts aloud, I'd focus on every little thing she was saying, knowing I could listen to her speak all day. It was bad, but thankfully I hadn't stumbled over my words or made a total fool of myself in front of her. I was determined to not let it get that far.

My eyes wandered around the gym as Y/BF/N tried to give me advice, but admittedly, his words flew in one ear and out the other when I caught sight of Wanda.

She was standing with her friends, smiling and laughing to whatever they were saying. Like everyone else in here, she was wearing her gym kit – black athletic shorts and a blue and white tee shirt, the colour of our school. It wasn't anything special, yet she made it seem that way, outdoing anyone in here. Her brown hair was tied back, the ponytail falling down her back, showing her stunning profile and making my mouth go dry.

Another clap on the back from Y/BF/N pulled me from my reverie and I looked to see he was laughing at me.

"Majorly screwed," he corrected his previous comment.

He was definitely right.

[the-weirdos-mind]

League of Villains X Teen! Reader: You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid

Songfic of the song with the same name by The Offspring. Here’s the reader’s quirk: 

 Quirk- Manipulation

Type- Emitter

How it works- Similar to Aizawa’s and Nighteye’s quirks you have to look someone in the eye to get them under control. They’re unaware that you’re controlling them but still aware of their senses. When you have someone under control you can do whatever you want with them until you either look away from that person (it doesn’t always have to be eye contact), blink, or release them. Whenever someone is under your spell, it’s like being trapped in a room with one-way glass. They are aware of what’s going on but, can’t get help. 

Drawbacks- If you use the power for more than an hour you’ll get a headache. If you push yourself you’ll get a migraine. You can choose when to activate it and for how long but the time still adds to an hour no matter how many times you activate it in the day.

Trigger warnings: Blood and use of violence, if I’m missing anything then let me know so I can correct it 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Show me how to lie You're getting better all the time And turning all against the one Is an art that's hard to teach

    You followed Giran down the hallway to an unknown place. You had the hood of you (F/C) on to hide your (H/L) (H/C) hair with your eyes on the ground. You watched as foot after foot in (F/C) shoes put pressure on the dirty ground. You mentally sighed as you reflect your life choices. You didn’t want to live this life but everyone around you saw your quirk as one thing; villainous. You got tired of the words and became what they wanted you be. You realized that heroes are worthless and they didn’t care that a young (boy/girl/person) was heading down a dark path. You glanced up to see the man opening the door. You immediately looked down and followed him in the room.

     Side glancing at the room you noticed it was a bar. There was a purple cloud like man with yellow eyes in a suit and a metal brace around his neck. He was polishing a glass behind the bar. On a red stool was another man holding a glass of alcohol. He had his pinky raised away from the glass though and you silently raised an eyebrow. Is this because of his quirk or is he British? His shaggy blue hair was covering most of his face but when he turned to face the two, you saw a pale hand covering his face and his red eyes glaring at you. You glanced down at the floor. Not yet.

    “You seriously brought a child?” He asked setting the glass cup down. “You do know that this is for mature adults? And (she/he/they) can’t stare at me in the eyes? How rude.” His voice was raspy and you concluded he was holding the glass like that was because of his quirk.

  “Shigaraki, this is (Y/N), I brought (him/her/them) cause (he/she/they) need some training with (his/her/their) quirk.” Giran said and took a drag from his cigarette. He exhaled and a smoke cloud came in the room. “(He/She/They) is getting better at it but, (he/she/they) still needs some help.”

    You rolled your eyes at him. “At least I don’t treat kids like they’re nothing.” You mumbled still bitter about Shigaraki’s comment.

     “What was that?” The blue haired man asked, dangerously.

     “So, you’re deaf huh? I thought an excellent leader would treat a new recruit with respect no matter the age they are.”

Another clever word Sets off an unsuspecting herd And as you get back into line A mob jumps to their feet

    “Shut up.” Shigaraki muttered and scratched his neck. He was stressed about the trouble this kid was causing. Sure he and Dabi didn’t get along but he liked being in control. “(He/She/They) is mature for (his/her/their) age.” Giran said. “Maybe with (him/her/them) as leader it won’t be bad.” He added. He knew what you were doing. If you get him mad enough to get him to look at you in the eye then you can show off your quirk. You did keep your mouth shut as the man stood up and walked over to you. You looked at him in the eye and a (F/C) hue came to your (E/C) eyes. His eyes begin to fog up a little, not enough to appear blind but enough to look suspicious.

Now dance, ****er, dance Man, he never had a chance And no one even knew It was really only you

     Shigaraki barely saw the change of your eye color. He was so surprised to started dancing. His feet moved in a fast pace in place. “What the ****!?!” He yelled, only in his mind. Dabi started laughing again. The scarred man leaned over clutching his stomach. He’s laughing so hard he might start crying, or blood will fall from his destroyed tear ducts, if he’s not careful. After a few minutes of dancing you blinked to end the curse on him. They didn’t know that you caused it to happen. Giran smirked and patted you on the head. “What the h***?” The man asked looking around, wondering what just happened.

    “That is (his/her/their) quirk at work.” He man said before the other could get angry. “With a power like (hers/his/theirs) would be useful for heist situations and causing diversions wouldn’t it?”

    “What is (his/her/theirs) quirk?” The wisp man asked.

    “Manipulation.” You said. “Whenever I look at someone in the eyes it activates my power. I can hold control of them for at least an hour before I get a headache. Best part is no one knows that they’re under my grasp.” You said.

    “I’ll admit that I’m impressed.” Shigaraki said. “Welcome I guess.”

    Giran smiled. “You won’t be disappointed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And now you steal away Take him out today

   After a few weeks of joining the League you’re on your first solo mission. Before this one you were mainly paired with a blonde haired girl named Toga. She was pretty nice when she wasn’t obsessing over blood or trying to stab you. Other times you were paired with a man named Twice. He would say two different things and it would give you mixed feelings about a job well done.

    You walked through the area of the city to a hero agency. Your job is to find maps of the inside and steal them. Shigaraki didn’t care if they were on paper or not all he cared about was getting them, It’s pretty simple to do but considering this is you, you had a knife and a handheld gun just in case if things went south. So far it was going well. You got a security guard under control and using him you were able to get a computer with the building’s layout on it. Pulling out a flash drive that Compress had given you, you stuck it in the computer and start downloading. Unfortunately, you looked away from the guard and he glared at you.

    “I don’t know your plan here kid, but it’s best if you leave now.” He said. He did try to alert someone but it was useless, he was trapped in his mind until you looked away. You looked at him and put your hand in your pocket with the knife.

    “I don’t think so.” You said. Before he could call for backup you pulled the knife out and threw it at his chest. He gasped at the impact of the knife and slumped to the floor. Blood was falling from the wound fast, staining his shirt and forming a puddle. Thankfully there was a ding as the data had finished uploading to the flash drive. You walked over to the computer and pulled it out. You smirked as you pocketed it and pulled the knife out from the guard. You left the building leaving behind a guard slowly bleeding to death.

Nice work you did You're gonna go far, kid

    You walked back into the hideout and put the flash drive on the bar next to Shigaraki. He nodded at you when he saw it. “Good job. A win for us.” He said and carefully pocketed the piece of tech.

    “And in an hour too.” Spinner said.

    “That’s really impressive!” Twice said. “It’s not that impressive.”

    You feel a hand clamp on your head and ruffle your hair. “Not bad, kid.” Dabi said. He could tell you’re gonna go far in the villain industry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With a thousand lies And a good disguise Hit 'em right between the eyes Hit 'em right between the eyes

   You had gotten in the school with one of the best lies you have, your parents went there. It wasn’t U.A. but it’s also training people for the hero industry. The plan was to get the best marks in the school and transfer to U.A. as the highest in your class. Giran came into play for making fake documents that pass off as real.

    The one on one fight that took place with some kid you didn’t even bother to know was annoying. His quirk was something water related and you almost drowned a couple of times. You finally looked at him in the eye and ordered him to stop. You ran up to him and punched his face, in the between the eyes a couple of times. The first one stun him while the other knocked him out.

When you walk away Nothing more to say See the lightning in your eyes See 'em running for their lives

   You panted and wiped the sweat away from your forehead. You walked away from the ring where the training took place and looked at everyone else. They looked away from you in fear and parted like a body of water. You swore you saw someone running for their life. You smirked to yourself and took your seat on the bleachers. Pride danced in your eyes like lightning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Slowly out of line And drifting closer in your sights So play it out I'm wide awake It's a scene about me

  The first thing the infamous Class 1-A noticed about you is how secretive you were. You shared nothing about yourself other than your name and quirk. They noticed that you did some… shady things to put it mildly. Some noticed you snuck out of the dorms at night. Idia, Miydoriya, Bakugo and Todoroki had followed you to an alleyway and heard you talking to some shadowy figure there. Both spoke in soft whispers that they couldn’t tell who you were talking to and whether or not they were male or female. Other than that occurrence, they didn’t get anything else.

   About a week later, the League attacked UA. You had managed to get them in through your student ID and gave them full access to the school, by a really good copy of the little plastic card. Five minutes prior to the attack, you had excused yourself from math, who needs it anyways, and went to the bathroom. While the lockdown was going on, you met with Toga in the halls. The plan was to get to All Might and kill him, the typical plan made by the man child of a leader you have. You both heard footsteps running towards you and saw it was the class president, Iida. “(L/N), get away from her!” He yelled, doing his hand chop thing. You smirked and took out the dagger the blonde handed you. “No, I don’t think I will.” You responded. Time to shine.

There's something in your way                                                                       And now someone is gonna pay And if you can't get what you want,                                                              Well, it's all because of me

    He stood there, shell shocked at the sight before him. His classmate was a villain? You couldn’t use your quirk yet, anyways. You decided to let the scene play out. You let a dark chuckle seeing his face. “All my life I’ve been told that I was best suited for a villain. You know, you could’ve used the time you knew me to get to know me but, everyone treated me the same as before! It’s too bad that things had to end like this. Wait, no it’s not that bad. You and your class are gonna pay!” You yelled. You lunged at him and he dodged as he snapped out of his shocked state.

    “(Y/N), it doesn’t have to be this way!” He said and continued to dodge the blade. He was still surprised and didn’t attempt to fight back because he couldn’t believe the suspicions about you were true. You growled in frustration. “It’s too late for me anyways. You can’t turn me to the light.” You said and looked at him in the eyes and yours started glowing (F/C). He almost let out a gasp but it didn’t leave his body as his eyes fogged up a little.

Now dance, ****er, dance, man, I never had a chance And no one even knew, it was really only you And now you'll lead the way

   You smiled as the class representative had fallen for your trick. “Now, we’re going back to the class, and you’re going to act like everything is alright.” You ordered.

   He nodded. “Yes, (Sir/Ma’am/Other).” He said, voice coming out robotically. He set off to find his class and you followed him, due to your power. The irony of the situation was almost amusing to you. Almost. The head of the class, now a puppet. A puppet that can dance to whatever twisted moves that you have set for it.

Show the light of day Nice work you did You're gonna go far, kid Trust deceived

    You followed him down the twisting paths of the hallways to the rest of the class. Your gaze fixed on the back of his head. You knew Toga was going to inform everyone else that everything was according to plan. Finally, the two of you reached the hiding area where everyone else was. “Thank goodness you found, (him/her/them!)” You heard Izuku said. Then he noticed that something was off about his classmates. You were refusing to look at anybody else than the boy in front of you and Iida’s looked dazed. Like he was… under someone’s control.

    The greenette’s eyes widened. His classmate was… no. He had his suspicions but the truth is hard to handle. Before he could say anything, Iida gave him a swift kick in the face.

With a thousand lies and a good disguise Hit 'em right between the eyes Hit 'em right between the eyes

    They stood there in surprise and shock. A blanket of fear had covered them, making them stand there like statues. The only sounds were the groans of Miydoriya and the thud of his body hitting the ground. “I-Iida.” Ochaco stuttered in fear. No one had expected the class president to attack their classmate outside of training. The blue haired boy then hit the nearest person, Mineta, giving him a punch to the cheek. No one really reacted to that. In all honesty, the grape had it coming.

When you walk away, nothing more to say See the lightning in your eyes See 'em running for their lives

     While they were distracted, you used the opportunity to leave. It didn’t matter if Iida was going to spill the secret you kept from them. That s*** was already out. You smirked to yourself knowing which side of the street you belong in.

Now dance, ****er, dance, he never had a chance And no one even knew, it was really only you So dance, ****er, dance, I never had a chance It was really only you

    The mission went out as planned. It was only a ploy to strike fear in the hearts of citizens. After all, an attack with no causalities is far worse with ones that do. You now sat at the bar, a bottle of water in your hand. You may be a criminal but the age of drinking consent is something that you can’t argue with.  No matter how hard you tried. The news was on talking about the event. Everyone was able to get away without anyone being caught. Call it luck or whatever but, you’re thankful that they did. The anchorwoman was talking about how a student was involved with the League and helped out. A picture of your face appeared on the screen and you smirked. It wasn’t a school photo but a mugshot from a previous capture. One you managed to get away from. No one even suspected you, or so you think, but regardless it’s wonderful to see.

With a thousand lies and a good disguise Hit 'em right between the eyes Hit 'em right between the eyes

    You couldn’t help but chuckled remembering the looks on each of their faces. What they thought was a classmate was really playing a part. A perfect disguise if you asked yourself. You have the innocent looking (boy/girl/person) appearance and if anyone who didn’t know you found out about your job. It would’ve made you laugh as not everything is as it seems.

    Your fists tingled as they remembered the feeling of their face contacting your skin. You placed the hand that held the plastic bottle on top of the other’s knuckles. The feeling is something you’re going to remember for a long time.

When you walk away, nothing more to say See the lightning in your eyes See 'em running for their lives

  A pair of footsteps came walking in and you dropped your hands to your lap. You see Shigaraki walking into the bar holding a folder, with a finger away from it as always. You know it could only mean one thing. “Another mission?” You asked, voicing your thoughts. The boss nodded and handed it to you.

     “Go over it and be ready for when the time comes. You did good on your last mission, keep up the good work. You’re a valuable character.” He said before walking away. You weren’t sure if the last sentence was a praise or another video game term but regardless you nodded.

     “Will do.” You said and opened it up, wondering what will be to cause more fear in the people. And more pride in yourself. Each success makes you happy.

Clever alibis, Lord of the Flies Hit 'em right between the eyes Hit 'em right between the eyes

   You almost busted out laughing seeing  which role you were supposed to play. An innocent citizen who loves all the hero crap. You won’t be alone this time, having Toga to accompany you on this one. You felt excited for the mission. It would mean more people will realize what idiots heroes truly are. The truth will knock them down from the clouds.

When you walk away, nothing more to say See the lightning in your eyes See 'em running for their lives

   But right now, it’s time for a nap. The last mission tired you out. You took the folder with you and walked to your room. All that matters right now is a bed, a blanket, and wonderful dreams of a world where people run in fear from you.

[rebrandedbard]

could I get 49 for the prompts pleaseeee? (:

*weeping* Em, I love you, defending my honour, giving me a way out. You’ve spared me my dignity.

49. “Well this is awkward ...”

WC:  2106

Tidings and Tarradiddles

Jaskier returns to Posada and his path crosses with Geralt’s once more after the unfortunate affair on The Mountain™

-

How was it? Truly, how was it that of all places on the great, wide Continent, Geralt should come to take a contract in Posada, at the farthest of reaches, after months and months of separation, on the one day Jaskier should be in town? And how was it that he’d come the only hour Jaskier had lingered for a drink? It was too great a coincidence, and Jaskier would not give Destiny the credit. She’d not earned the right to claim it. Jaskier scorned her and had stripped her of the right to interfere in any of his further adventures. After all, Geralt had blamed him for her follies—follies which, by rights, Geralt had brought upon himself in the first place.

Even so, he could feel Destiny’s audaciously long and twitchy nose poking about his business the moment Geralt walked through the tavern door. Jaskier huddled in his corner, hoping the shadows were darker than they had been the day he’d found Geralt hunched beneath them. He ought to have known better than to come in the first place. There had been a whole flock of magpies in the middle of the bridge leading into town—a tiding of magpies. Detestable harbinger of tidings, foul and fair. They’d startled at the sight of him and alighted once more on the tavern roof. But he’d ignored their superstitious warning.

Of course the shadows were of no use to him. The moment Geralt stepped inside, Jaskier saw him twitch, cocking an ear his direction. Probably heard the familiar grinding of his teeth: an annoying habit he so often complained of. Jaskier curled up against the wall, trying to make himself smaller to blend in with his surroundings.

For once, it was not so difficult. He’d grown out his hair, had even maintained a healthy bit of scruff on his face in keeping with the stylings of his fellow tavern-goers. He was tired and worn, but above all, he was plain. He no longer wore bright colors, standing out like a beacon in the dark of night. He wore his linen dyed a plain, sensible, muted green. The jerkin on his back was brown and of a practical fit. Altogether, it did not so much scream of sensibility as it mumbled. If he kept his head low enough, he might pass as just another local come in for a pint.

But he was not just another local.

Geralt stopped before his table, standing at Jaskier’s elbow. The click of metal upon the table made Jaskier look up from his drink. It was a coin, spinning round and round. It wobbled and fell on its face, the etching of a worn coat of arms before him.

“Will … will you sing for us, bard?” Geralt asked.

Jaskier stared at the coin. His ears began to fill with cotton, a faint ringing in them. A flash of hot blood coursed through him and he ground his teeth to a halt. He knew this was Geralt’s way of easing into things, working towards something, whether or not an apology was waiting at the end. He knew this was Geralt offering him an out. It was distant. Impersonal. But even in the depths of his rage, Geralt had called him by name. To call him bard and toss a coin to him like some stranger now … it flamed something red and barbaric to life under his skin. He was so deafened by the blood in his ears, he did not hear the approach of the figure standing at Geralt’s side.

“Well, this is awkward,” Jaskier sneered. He picked up the coin, twiddling it between his fingers. Putting up an impassive mask, he juggled the coin over his knuckles in his best impressive manner, as if it were nothing but a worthless toy. “You see,” he said, “I’m not a bard.”

Geralt was quiet a moment. Jaskier could feel his eyes roaming over him. It raised his hackles to know what Geralt must see: the dark circles under his eyes, the lines of age now more pronounced with exhaustion, crow’s feet so defined they might as well have been dug by the claws of vultures. And then, Geralt must have taken notice at last. Gone were the bold silhouettes and blinding colors, gone were the perfumes and oils—but there was one thing more important than all the rest that was missing.

“Your lute,” Geralt said.

There it was. “Gave it up this very afternoon,” Jaskier replied. He slapped the coin down on the table and leaned back, snatching up his half-empty mug. “I travelled a long way to return it home; Filavandrel has it now.”

He took a drink, still avoiding eyes contact. He continued, mumbling over the rim of his mug. “Had a visit. They’re doing better than they were when last we met. I helped them dig rocks from their crop fields for an hour or two. Figured as long as I was shovelling things, I might as well master the art. Use it productively.”

He was being petty. He knew he was, but by the gods, he’d earned it.

When at last he looked up, he did so because he saw a hint of blue beside the table. The potmaid had been wearing a blue dress, and he thought he now saw his escape. He slid his mug to the edge of the table and lifted his head to ask for it to be taken away when he saw a familiar pair of green eyes looking back at him.

“Cirilla?” he asked, surprised. He blinked at the princess, who looked down at the table as his eyes fell upon her. He remembered her as someone taller, regal head held high, smiling, her hair half up in decorative braids and twists. This was not a princess before him, but a girl: her hood casting shadows upon her hollow face. It seemed wrong. She had always been a girl, but a girl with a name. This creature before him stood as a reflection of himself, a thing wishing to hide away, nothing more than a shell.

She glanced up at him, then down once more. Slowly she raised her hand to the table and placed it over the coin. She pushed it towards him with a quiet slide, then dropped her hand once more. “He said you sing wonderful,” she muttered, as if she had not heard him singing in Cintra’s court nearly every midsummer since birth.

Jaskier’s voice stuck in his throat. The memory of a song sat heavy on his tongue. “I … I don’t sing anymore,” he grit out. He turned to look away again, staring at the crack between his bench and the wall. “Can’t sing without music anyway. Might as well be poetry.”

Having no music left him exposed. There was nothing to lift him up, nor anything to hide behind. He could sing among the crowd and raise his voice to join a drinking song, but there was something vulnerable about singing alone. Who sang among bar patrons without some barrier? Even the drunks had their drink to shield them.

He saw Geralt shift out of the corner of his eye. Something new slid across the table, stopping just short of his hand. He looked and saw one of his old notebooks.

“You write good poetry,” Geralt said.

Jaskier scoffed and picked up the notebook. “If there were anything in this worth keeping, I would have remembered to bring it with me when I went down the mountain.” He flipped through the pages, then let the notebook flop back on the table. “You obviously have poor taste,” he huffed.

Without warning, Geralt picked up the notebook and thwacked him on top of his head with the cover.

“Gah! Hey!” Jaskier shouted. He stood up and snatched the book back, smacking Geralt’s arm with it. “What in fuck’s name did you do that for, you brute!”

But he’d looked at Geralt, forgetting to snub him if only a moment. And Geralt plucked the book from his hand with an upward quirk of the lips. “It’s worth keeping,” he said. He handed the book to Ciri, who clutched it tight to her chest in agreement, but still, she looked at Geralt with a stern expression.

“That wasn’t what you were supposed to say,” she scolded.

Geralt’s eyes rolled back and he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Not to me.”

Geralt opened his eyes. He looked at Jaskier, opening his mouth to speak once more. But the look on Jaskier’s face stopped him. Instead, he turned to the door, stalking quickly across the room, words aborted on his tongue.

Jaskier gaped.

“Geralt!” Ciri called. “Where are you going?”

“Just wait here.”

“Geralt!”

“Dinner. I’ll be back in the hour.”

Ciri threw up her hands and dropped onto the opposite bench. She slammed Jaskier’s notebook down on the table and crossed her arms over it. She groaned in frustration, then turned her head to look out at the tavern floor.

“Have you had dinner yet?” she grumbled.

Jaskier looked between her and the door, feeling quite at a loss. “No,” he replied.

“Then you can eat Geralt’s share.” She rummaged in her cloak and pushed a little drawstring bag into his hands. “Here, he left me his purse.”

“And left you from the look of things. Shall I charge him for babysitting?”

“Do. And order another drink.”

Jaskier snorted. “Trying to get me to stay?” He wasn’t so irresponsible as to leave a child alone, even with the threat of Geralt’s return. He didn’t need to be persuaded.

“No. Punishing him for running out; you get his drink into the bargain. Think of it as sending him to bed without supper.”

“I’ll drink to that. It’s the least of the punishments I could inflict.”

They both chuckled mildly at that. A bit of the dense atmosphere lifted and they shared a look. Jaskier cleared his throat and waved for the potmaid. He ordered fare for the two of them, a mug of ale for himself, and a cup of small beer for Ciri. Once they’d both had a bite, they began talking. They traded stories: how Ciri came to Geralt’s care, and what Jaskier had been doing since the separation. Though the conversation was tense, it felt … good … to have a bit of company. He’d been worried since word of the fall of Cintra had reached him. At least Destiny had brought Ciri to Geralt safely. He hoped Destiny would be kind to her where it had failed him.

Jaskier startled when Geralt returned. He’d crept up so silently. Jaskier had been listening to Ciri describe her most recent success in outdoor cooking and hadn’t noticed the movement beside him. Geralt set the lute on the table in front of Jaskier’s empty plate with a sudden thunk, not a word of explanation. He stood there silently, holding the lute upright by its neck.

No one spoke.

Jaskier simply stared at it, felt Geralt stare at him. But this time, he refused to look up. Slowly, Geralt lay the lute down on the table, then slipped away. A minute passed, everything still and quiet. Then, Jaskier peeked out of the corner of his eye and saw Geralt nudge Ciri, nodding his head toward the door.

Ciri looked at Jaskier, her brow anxious and furrowed. She clutched her cup, nearly finished, her plate barren. He could see her mind at work, trying to find an excuse to stay. But she set her cup down obediently. As she turned to stand, she left the notebook behind. Eyes downcast, she slumped to her feet. Geralt held out his hand for her, no longer looking at Jaskier. The moment Geralt’s back was turned, Jaskier felt a cold panic run through him.

“Wait!” he said, fumbling to his feet.

Geralt froze, turning his head back slightly to listen.

But for what? Jaskier reached out, hesitating. He picked up his lute, finding the coin beneath it. The noise made Geralt turn back and Jaskier met his eye. He’d never seen Geralt look so blank, completely unreadable.

Jaskier slung the strap of the lute over his head. He pushed the coin deliberately into his pocket and braced his hands on the strings. When he looked at Geralt again, there was the barest crack in his armour, and hope shined dimly through. Jaskier smiled. It was a timid thing, but he still remembered how it was done.

“You asked for a song,” he said.

-

Send me a drabble prompt!

[mrdanielbond]

Wild Nights, Wild Hearts (One-Shot?)

“Mystery man”

[Main characters: Mikael Blomkvist X Reader]

Plot: It is time to head back to work as a lecturer at your university after a successful first semester. Unfortunately for you, one of your guest lecturers is a familiar face from a wild night out…

[A/N: Wrote this ages ago and thought, hey why not? Okay, so I don’t know if this is going to be an actual thing. Like I assume it’s going to be a one-shot. Plus, in all fairness, Mikael is my favourite non-Bond character of Daniel’s, so I thought it’s time to appreciate this man in all his glory. I hope you enjoy this! Let me know what you think?]

Music continued to boom through the speakers. The flashing lights and smoke was intense, but you didn’t care. As long as you were still with your friends, celebrating a birthday amongst the group, that's all that mattered. What also helped was the fact your sultry look managed to get you quite a few free drinks from the bartender. You weren’t used to this kind of attention, often keeping a natural look. However, this was your friend and co-worker’s birthday. You wanted to spice things up and look incredible for her. Of course, when Maisie saw you for the first time, she was surprised. In fact, her jaw dropped at how glamorous you looked. “Girl what the HELL! After Florence Pugh, you are a woman I’d proudly fuck.” You remember her particularly saying and that was the start of an incredibly wild night.

“Javier, can I get another tequila please!” You scream with excitement at the bar, Javier proudly pours you your sixth tequila shot.

“This one’s on the house my darling,  Y/N.” He pushed the shot glass in front of you and your eyes widen with excitement. You had to admit, you do have a thing for tequila so this man feeding you free drinks made the night all the better.

“You spoil me.” You winked as you took the shot and walked off to join the rest of your friends.

The night followed with more dancing and more drinks between your friends. At some point on the floor, you started to get tired and your craving for more drinks kicked in because you found yourself at the bar once again. This time you were looking for something more than a shot. “Okay, so it’s like a sex on the beach but like so much fruiter, like with strawberries!” You tried to explain but in your drunken state, Javier couldn’t help but laugh as he struggled listening to you.

“You know what? You tell me what to do and I’ll make it for you.” He said and a devious grin appeared on your face. So you watched, instructing him on how to make your special cocktail and when he finished, he threw a small umbrella inside it to serve you. You sipped it and couldn’t help but moan. It was glorious...Well maybe it would’ve been if you could taste it at all.

“Can I have what she’s having?” A baritone voice said beside you. You turned with your eyebrow raised. “And I’ll pay for hers.”

He reached into his wallet, still looking into your eyes as he handed Javier his card. You weren’t sure whether it was the alcohol or the fact you were practically pushed against each other with how packed the bar was but this man was...incredibly handsome. Rugged dirt blonde hair, bright blue eyes that gave you butterflies and his dark blue shirt didn’t help as you couldn’t help but stare at his chest from time to time. Javier turned back to make your drink for the stranger and handed it over to him. “If you’re going to have a cocktail, you’ve got to get it right. Strawberries with the ice.” He said with a smirk but you couldn’t hear him. Not with the music blasting over you...and his dreamy eyes. “What?” You tried to shout out. “I said-” He could barely get a word out in all the noise and you could see it. Quickly, you grabbed his hand and pulled him to a quieter table in the corner. “That’s better - wow.” He suddenly stopped himself when he took another look at you. “You’re really beautiful.” “Smooth.” You chuckled. Alright, so at this point, usually you would say thanks and dip to find your friends. However, this man, bless him, appeared mesmerized by you. He was in awe of you and not just looking at your chest or your figure as though he were some creep. You both hadn’t realised you were still holding hands, leaning into each other.

“Hey, that’s unfair! I’m not usually bold with women.” Something about the mystery man was telling you he was honest. “The strong and silent type is full of surprises.” He said and you swear to god, you could see even he knew what he was doing with that statement. To be honest, he was right. With those eyes, he wouldn’t have to say a single word to get you to go home with him. Throughout the night, you both kept rambling to each other about everything and nothing but you were both having fun, laughing together and putting each other at ease. Your friends must’ve noticed you because they were all staring at the two of you in awe, sharing drinks together, leaning into each other. Then ‘Someone New’ by Hozier began to play. Oh no. Any slow song that played while you were next to a man was a recipe for disaster. The mystery man ,on his high, pulled you closer. “Oh no, I can’t go out there!” You said. “Come on, what happened to that confidence I saw earlier?!” He laughed. “Listen, I can pick and choose when I want to be brave!” You snapped back. “Why are you so bold all of a sudden?!” “What can I say? You bring out a new side to me.” He laughed and before you could fight back, he managed to bring you to the floor. You couldn’t tell him why this was a bad idea but...maybe it wasn’t now you were in his arms, moving around the floor. He held you close and you didn’t want to leave. Not with the high of the drinks and after such a good night filled with laughter. Who knows? Maybe when you wake up the next day, you’d regret it. But for now, you were going to appreciate being here with him...but now you were filled with anticipation, you were craving something. Uh oh. You were craving him. Suddenly, a surge of confidence filled you and you looked up at him. He had already been looking at you. Quickly, he leaned in and you found yourselves kissing with a raw, fiery passion that remained unmatched. You could tell how much he wanted you. In fact, you could feel it as he pressed you against him. But you didn’t care. You ran your fingers through his hair, now the heated kiss becoming lazy until you bit his lip, catching him by surprise. When you pulled back breathlessly, he smirked. “Oh shut up, I know what you’re going to say.” You playfully pushed his chest.

The hangover the next day was going to be ridiculous but you didn’t care. The mystery man had you all over him, and he? All over you.

Rain violently bounced against the wall of your office. Across you sat Maisie, who happened to be an English lecturer. You were one of the lecturers, who had just finished your PHD in Media and Cultural Studies and when offered a job at the university, you couldn’t help yourself but stay. It was decent pay after all and after three years with the university, you realised your students loved you. There were wild lecturers in the school of arts department, who overshared and gladly you weren’t one of them but your students knew you well enough to seem relatable. However, you were hoping that today they would not quiz you on your hangover. Especially your seminar classes, they really loved hearing whatever you went through. Right now, you sat at the table, head against the desk of your office while Maisie watched you groan. “Oh my god.” Was all you could mumble. This was not how you wanted to spend your first week back of the second semester. Your head was pounding violently, you were nauseous, stomach turning. The only thing saving you was the cup of coffee you had in hand, after being forced to take an espresso shot, you were still practically dead. Maisie simply sat there shaking her head. God, she had no right to judge you after goading you into going out. “You should have known not to go hard on the drinks!” “But...free…” The words fell from your lips. “Javier gives free drinks all the time, I’m surprised it doesn’t get him fired. You should’ve known, he did this last time. Actually, that reminds me, where did you go last night?” And then you remembered. You went off with a mystery man, an incredibly handsome mystery man. That, you were fortunate enough to remember. With your head against the table, you smirked, so your friend wouldn’t see. “Don’t pretend as if we didn’t see you walking off and kissing that man, who by the way is a huge score! We spent all night fangirling about him.” Maisie said with excitement but all you could do was groan again, “Come on! You have to tell me! What happened?” “Nothing happened.” You mumbled into your arms. Okay something happened but you still didn’t want to say anything. “Don’t lie to me! You have to tell me, it was my birthday, meaning you have to tell me what YOU did on my day!”

You still refused to move. As your knight in shining armour, the Head of Faculty, Andrew stormed into the room, coffee mug and binder in hand. “Right! Who’s ready for a day full of learning ladies!” Maisie laughed as all you could let out was a groan. “Oh, not you too!” He let out an irritated huff. “This is ridiculous. Seems like there’s a lot of hangovers going around this morning.” “Really?” Maisie said, leaning forward with excitement. “Yeah, I just got off the phone with the guest lecturer. He is bloody hungover too. Could hear it in his voice.” Shit. Guest lecturer. One of the senior lecturers decided to go on a research leave mid-year, which didn’t help your cause as you were left with over one hundred students needing attention. That is when the head of faculty, Andrew, who you adored, decided to call in a guest lecturer, an industry expert in the field to provide you with support. Only thing is, Andrew was unpredictable, so you didn’t know who he had in store. You only knew he was a pretty popular journalist in Europe. Weren’t you supposed to be meeting him before the class? “He said he’s going to be running late.” Thank god for that. You didn’t need Andrew screaming at you about representing the university under a negative light. Before Andrew could get to scolding you, however, your alarm went off. Swiftly, you jumped up and swiped all your folders. “Class! Got to get to class!” Was all you could muster before leaving the room, and your colleagues, incredibly shocked.

Students filled the lecture hall for the first lesson of the semester, which didn’t surprise you. There were a lot of familiar faces as usual. A couple of new ones but most of the students knew when you were out of it and these were the ones present. Andrew followed you in, watching intently, hoping you wouldn’t screw this up. But everyone knew the rules. The moment your mug was placed against the desk, everyone was silent, eagerly listening to hear from you. “Morning everyone! Welcome back, I hope you have all had a wonderful Christmas break! Just know that for many of you who took my module last year, yes, I am currently in the process of grading your assignments and the results will be distributed next week. However, I am not here to talk about that. Right now, it is time to turn over a new page! So, for those of you that don’t know me, I am Dr. Y/N Y/LN. I am totally cool without the whole formal title and I am a lecturer in Media and Cultural studies and welcome to my module Introduction to Investigative Journalism. This is where we’ll be in touch with some of the world’s most notorious cases from the role investigative journalism played in the portrayal of criminals from the likes of Charles Ponzi, Pablo Escobar, Charles Bronson to female serial killers such as Velma Barfield and Judy Buenoano. We will be looking at cold cases such as the murder of Olof Palme to the story of D.B. Cooper and corruption amongst transnational and multinational companies such as the fall of Wennerstrom. I know this feels like a criminology course and having the stomach would be ideal, however this is incredibly interesting if you want to look into serious crimes and learn about political corruption. I mean I didn’t have the stomach at first but you learn to live with it.” The students laughed. Andrew was in awe of how professional you managed to be but then again that is why the university needed you. They knew you were the young voice they needed to liven things up and get students intrigued, no matter how hungover or ill you were. “ Now, as you know, Dr. Woodbridge has taken a research leave so today, I believe that Andrew has called in a guest lecturer who will be here throughout the second half of the module to provide support and as an industry expert will hopefully be able to answer the questions you all will have.”

Andrew stepped forward, grinning from ear to ear as he headed to the centre. He gave you a wink to praise the way you pulled yourself together and turned to the rest of the class. “Thank you very much, Y/N. Couldn’t have introduced the module better myself, you have me excited and I’m not even taking it! Anyway, without further ado, I am honoured to introduce to you all your guest lecturer today, he is an investigative journalist and co-owner of Swedish magazine, Millennium, Mikael Blomkvist!” The class gave an applause and so did you as the man walked through the door. Then your applause slowed...hang on a minute. Why did the name Mikael sound familiar? Mikael walked in with a smile, waving at the glass, sporting glasses and a warm cardigan, smiling but then he turned to you and then it hit you. This was YOUR mystery man!

[ipuckwithhockey]

Just Ask- N. Patrick

a/n: More Nolan stuff? Yup. I should preface this with the fact that we should all be considerate of all hockeys and their personal lives. They have lives that do not include us and we should respect that. This includes their online accounts whether they are private or public. I say that because this does slightly touch on Nolan’s music taste/interest in music, but there’s nothing specific. Also, lets remember that this is all fiction! We’re just here to have some fun. Anyway, this is a short one, nothing too crazy. Let me know what y’all think!

warnings: drinking, swearing

------

Meeting the Flyers was a byproduct of your friendship with Carly. The two of you have been friends for ages and she introduced you to the boys early into her relationship with Travis. You were able to avoid being the consistent third wheel by finding a comfortable place within Travis’ group of friends. Although Carly and Travis have insisted that they try to set you up with someone on the team, you continually refused, saying that it would be awkward if it didn’t work out. Not to mention the fact that you didn’t think any of the guys were interested.

The lovesick couple bothered you about it for ages, trying to push Beezer and Frosty on you, and then saying that you and Nolan would be “so cute” together. Joel and Morgan were great, you loved them both dearly, but there was no way you were dating either one of them. They were more compatible with each other than with you.

However, the last one you didn’t disagree with. You agreed, and thought that you and Nolan would make an exceptionally cute couple. It takes two to tango though, and Nolan definitely isn’t interested. Nolan has always been friendly and your personalities mesh well enough that you would consider him a good friend. The two of you even hang out by yourselves when TK and Carly cancel on you to do god knows what. You’ll grab food or watch a movie, but he has never made any inclination that he feels anything more than platonic towards you.

Nolan is shy, and dry, yet incredibly funny. He’s blunt and has a few sharp edges to him, but he’s not the fiery time bomb that TK resembles. He’s more reserved, laid back, and you can feel at ease with him because of it. You loved Travis to bits, and he was the perfect match for Carly’s outgoing personality, but you can only handle so much of him.

Take right now for example. You’re standing in the kitchen of a post-win house party, and Travis is incessantly nagging you to go talk to Nolan. The house you’re in is full to the brim with people you’re sure they don’t know and you and Travis are in the kitchen fixing yourselves another round of drinks. From where you’re standing you can see Nolan in the family room towering over a few doe eyed girls who hang on his every word. They are fixated on him, and you think that he could tell them to get on their knees right then and there and they would do it gladly. (You’re not sure you would say no either, so no judgement there.) 

You’ve seen him take girls home from parties and bars, and he’s seen you with your fair share of conquests as well. It doesn’t bother you, and you figure it doesn’t bother Nolan either. Would you mind being the girl he took home? No, not at all, but unfortunately that was a role you would probably never be cast in. Even if you were you wouldn’t want to be one of those other girls anyway. You wanted to be the girl. You wanted to be the girl who made him forget about all the girls before you.

Your silent pining was becoming a little sad, and as much as you hated it, you couldn’t do anything to change how you felt about him. When you first met Nolan, you figured your little crush would soon dissipate, but the opposite ended up occurring. Now you were the sad, lonely, pining girl. You hated being her, but you couldn’t help it. You were totally gone for him.

“Come on, he’s not even listening to whatever those girls are saying to him. And you know he’s been checking you out since you got here.” Travis lays it out simply for you but you’re quick to refute, “Trav, he’s only looking over here because you haven’t stopped staring at him all night. If any two people at this party are into each other it’s you and Nolan, not me and Nolan.”

“What are you guys getting so heated about over here? And why do you keep looking at Nolan like that, Trav?” Carly comes over to tuck herself into Travis’ side as he puts his arm around her. You make a face at Travis as to say, “I told you.”

“He won’t leave me alone about Nolan, thinks I should go over there and interrupt the fan club.” You motion in the direction of where Nolan is still standing in front of his little doe eyed fans.

Carly’s eyes light up, “Oh, he totally checked you out earlier! You should go over there. Scare all those little girls away. They never had a chance anyway,” she explains matter-of-factly.

“Carly! You’re supposed to me on my side, remember?” You look between your friend and her boyfriend, who’s grin is getting bigger and bigger as spreads across his face.

“Look, you can deny it for as long as you like, but he’s totally into you, and you’re totally into him. Travis and I both know it.” Carly and Travis look so satisfied with themselves, that they think they’ve played matchmaker between the two of you, but you’re still not convinced.

“Ok, give me 5 reasons you think he could possibly like me, or that we are somehow compatible, and then maybe I’ll go over there.” You motion back in Nolan’s direction.

Travis is quick to the pitch, “You’re both oddly quiet. Like it kind of freaks me out when I come into the room and it’s just the two of you sitting there on the couch, and you’re not even talking! Sometimes the TV isn’t even on. It’s just silent. Like who even does that?”

This elicits an eye roll from you as you remember the many times Travis has walked in on you and Nolan sitting in a quiet room together, neither of you feeling the need to constantly fill the air with pointless conversation. Travis has never understood it.

“What about how Nolan always gets you drinks when we’re out?” Carly chimes in.  “He doesn’t do that for everyone. Hell, I don’t think he’s ever asked me if I needed another when he’s headed up to the bar.”

You’ve never noticed that he doesn’t ask anyone else when he goes up to the bar. Thinking about it now, it does seem kind of odd. But the two of you will often find yourselves next to each other while you’re stuffed inside a packed bar on any given weekend, and you figure he’s just being nice since you’re usually one of the only single ones there.

“That’s only two, and your reasoning is horrible. He’s just being nice and being introverted is not a crime.” You lean back onto the counter behind you as you cross your arms in front of your chest.  Now you’re facing toward the open room where one of the girls has inched her way closer to Nolan.

“He’s been a lot more excited to go out lately. He always asks if you’re coming. The last time we all went out I gave him a hard time about it. I don’t think his face has ever been that red.” Travis explains. “That’s another one! Whenever you show up or you do that thing that girls do when they’re flirting, you know the one where they touch a guy’s arm when they’re talking, he gets so red. Like tomato red.” Travis isn’t very eloquent in delivery, but you understand what he’s saying. “That’s four, baby.” He reminds you.

“He gets red when anyone talks to him and whenever anyone is brave enough to touch him. And I do not do that flirting thing.”  You look to Carly for reassurance, “Do I?” you ask.  She doesn’t offer the reassurance you were looking for, instead stating, “Oh, you totally do that. Sorry, you’re just not that subtle.”

“Oh my god.” You let your head hang back as you look up to the ceiling, “He probably thinks I’m an idiot or just creepy.” You really didn’t think you were that obvious, but clearly you were wrong. He probably feels bad for you because he knows you’re totally into him. “Well, if that wasn’t enough to deter me from ever speaking to him again, that’s still only four, so I think I’m going to call it a night and head home and then never show my face near Nolan again.” You try to exit the kitchen with the last bit of dignity you have left but Travis is quick to jump in front of you.

“Nope. I have a fifth one.” He’s standing there with is hands on his hips and you’re sure he thinks it makes him look more commanding. You just roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time tonight.

“Really? You think it’s good enough to get me over there?” You quip back at him as you nod back towards Nolan.

“Oh yeah.” He nods back, “And if it makes you feel better Nolan is super obvious too. Like I said, tomato red.”

“So, are you going to tell me the fifth reason or are you just going to keep me hostage here all night?” Now you’re mimicking his stance with your hands placed firmly on your hips.

“It pains me to admit this one because he doesn’t even let me do this,” Travis sighs. “He lets you have the aux every time you’re in his car. No questions asked, he just lets you play whatever you want. Doesn’t even complain about it!”

You’re processing what Travis is saying. Nolan did always let you choose the music in the car, but you didn’t think anything of it. You probably grabbed the aux without hesitation the first time you hopped in his car. That’s just what you always did with your friends. It never dawned on you that he might not let other people do that too.

It checks out though, Nolan loves his music. It’s important to him, and his perfectly curated playlists are like little works of art for him. You’ve watched him manicure his playlists for hours as he sits on the couch, and admittedly you have similar taste in music. Maybe that’s why he didn’t care? Maybe you just always chose songs that he would have also picked? Although there was that one week where you made him listen to the Frozen soundtrack on repeat. He probably wouldn’t have picked that one…

You don’t have time to decide on why you think Nolan would ever let you get away with something he holds so sacred because he has since left his group of girls and has found his way into the kitchen where you’re still squared off with Travis.

“You guys gonna pull your pistols out soon?” Nolan mumbles an announcement that he has entered the room, and you realize that you’re still stood in front of TK, both of you with your hands on your hips.

“Nope, we were actually just heading out to play pong, we’ll see you guys later!” Travis quickly ushers himself and Carly out of the room, and before you can protest, you’re left alone with Nolan. He’s leaning against the counter opposite to you, and when you move your eyes to rest on his figure you can’t help but do a quick intake of just how good he looks. He’s wearing the same basic outfit that just about every other guy in the house is sporting, and yet it looks so much better on him.

“What was that about? You guys okay?” Nolan asks.

“Uh- Yeah, Trav just being Trav, you know?” You attempt to brush off the topic of what you and Travis were discussing prior to Nolan’s arrival. Similar to those times that Travis was referencing, neither of you feel compelled to fill the air with unneeded dialogue, and you fall into a comfortable silence. Neither of you are saying anything now and Nolan takes the time to twist off the cap to another beer from the fridge.

“I was gonna go out back. It’s too hot in here, wanna come?” Nolan nods his head to the sliding glass door at the other end of the kitchen, and you respond by following him out to the deck. The quietness and crisp winter air that fills your lungs is refreshing. The two of you lean against the railing of the deck and enjoy the break from the chaos inside. You continue in your silence and you can’t help but watch as Nolan takes long drags of his beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

“Can I ask you a question?” You ask, and without speaking he nods, giving you the go ahead.

“Why don’t you let Travis have the aux?”

Nolan chuckles a bit, “Of all the things you could ask, that’s what you choose?” he retorts before answering, “If you must know, he has horrible taste in music. But also, I don’t let anyone have the aux. My car, my music. It’s the rules,” he states, taking another quick swig of his beer that’s almost empty now.

He confirmed what Travis had said to you, but you’re not convinced. There had to be a catch. He probably never realized that you did it. You’re sure of it.

“But you let me have the aux?” You form the sentence with a question mark on the end, and your eyes follow Nolan as he leans over the railing to look out into the backyard. He’s avoiding meeting your eye, and you can tell he’s thinking, deciding on what he’s about to say.

“Probably ‘cus I can’t say no to you,” the muttered words come out under his breath, like he doesn’t want you to hear it.

“What? What does that mean?” He lets out a huff of air as his hands push is his long hair back out of his face, something he only does when he’s stressed.

His body turns to face you now, “You could literally tell me to jump off a bridge or run through this house naked, and I would probably do it. No questions asked.”

The quizzical look that occupies your face prompts him to continue. He’s frustrated, you can tell, “I just don’t know how to say this without fucking us up as friends…” He starts to pivot away from you again, but you reach out for his arm, stopping him from leaving, “What if I don’t want to be friends?” You’ve chosen to be the bold one now, and if it bit you the ass you were just going to have to live with that, but you can’t help but feel like you’ve both been on the same page all along.

“You don’t want to be friends with me?” Hurt. Confusion. Annoyance. They all flash across Nolan’s face before you can interject again, “I don’t want to be just friends with you. I want to be more than that. I want to be the girl you take home when this party is over, and the girl who gets to wake up next to you every morning after, and even if you don’t want that, you need to know that’s how I feel about yo—“

He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’tt pull you into a heart wrenching kiss, there aren’t fireworks playing behind you. To your surprise, Nolan has chosen to haul you over his shoulder, your arms falling over his back as he walks swiftly back into the house.

“NOLAN! What the fuck!? Put me down!” You yell at him as he continues to carry through the house. The party is so wild by now that you’re sure no one even notices the 6’2 hockey player with a girl over his shoulder.

“Nolan! Seriously. Put me down!” You’re feel like a little toddler who has gotten herself in trouble, and when Nolan finally does place your feet back on the ground, you’re outside next to his car that is parked in front of the house. He sets you down, and you’re slightly dizzy from being swung around like a rag doll, but he steadies you in front of him with his hands on your waist.

“What the fuck was tha—”

He cuts you off again, but this time he isn’t hauling your body into the air. This time his hands are on either side of your face and his lips find yours and there are even metaphorical fireworks going off as you kiss him back. You stand there, pushed against the side of his car, with his hands tangled in your hair, and your tongues exploring each other mouths. When you finally come up for air he pushes back away from you so that he can meet your eye.

“If you wanted to be that girl all you had to do was ask.” A smirk is plastered across his face, and you lightly shove at his chest even though it does little to move his large figure.

You surrender, “Okay, but we have to get an Uber, we’ve both had too much to drive.” You can’t help but grin back at him as he reaches for his phone to order a car for the both of you. When the car arrives, you get in to head back to Nolan’s apartment with your hands wrapped together. “I can’t believe Travis was right,” you say as you let your head rest on Nolan’s shoulder and he turns his head to you with his eyebrow furrowed, “Right about what?”

[mirrorforevers]

here, there, and everywhere • graham coxon/reader

this fic is based on two prompts y'all sent me:

and

this fic really tested all of my blur knowledge holy Fuck. blur as talking heads au i guess. how cool would it be if they

1. had a girl bassist instead of the cheese tory dude

2. werent as unhappy as they were in the mid 90s (just a bit)

3. were just a little 🤏🏻 bit more female friendly lets just pretend this is a universe where the blurjob passes didnt exist heh

it took me everything i had to make this sound as realistic as it could be. u know these girls who think they could fix patrick bateman or don draper? perhaps y’all could fix blur

consider this a gift n not only me writing for your prompt, @nottuned! thank u so much for all your support n encouragement n for always bein so sweet 🥺 i hope u enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!

let’s see how many references to unfortunate britpop moments y’all can find in this

also i hope i captured the silliness of the gossip and drama in that era well. if you enjoyed it, please leave an ask telling me more! ur feedback is rly important to me 😔✊🏻

tw (?) reader has shitty parents

word count: 7.938 (this one's quite long!)

smut. set in the 90s. au.

You were unlocking your door when you heard your house phone ring. The shrill sound echoed through the empty corridors as you hurriedly unwrapped your scarf, tossing your keys and backpack on nearby furniture as you ran to answer the call.

“Hello?” You answer, panting.

“Y/N?”

“Dave?” You smile, that call was a very welcome surprise. Your friend owed you an answer.

-

A few weeks ago, Dave Rowntree, your music classmate who became a close friend, told you that he had teamed up with two other proficient musicians to form a band. Dave was ecstatic, and every day he had new stories about his new friends to tell you between breakfasts and lunches that you shared between the countless hours of rehearsals. Even though you weren't part of the group, you already felt that you knew Damon and Graham like the back of your hand. Yin and Yang. One was expansive, ambitious, vain, impulsive. The other, shy, introspective, anxious and careful.

Damon Albarn wanted to be an actor, Graham Coxon had a firm foot in the visual arts. One was a fan of grand classical compositions, the other was a Beatles fan. They had been friends since they were children, in a seemingly unbreakable bond. Damon dropped out of his theater class not only because out of a sudden he had found a bigger calling in music instead of acting, but also because he couldn't stand being away from his best friend for so long. You found yourself often imagining their faces and voices while trying to make all of the wild and endearingly funny stories Dave told you more tangible in your head.

It was not long before Dave started dropping little hints that they needed someone else for their project. “It’s not that Graham isn’t good at bass,” he’d say, “but we could do better.” It wasn't at the top of your plans to be part of a band right now, especially as you were preparing intensely to join the Royal Academy of Music, and he knew it. When you mentioned the conversations you had with Dave about the boys on your family dinner, in quiet wonder and timid want of being part of something really exciting, your parents wrinkled their noses. Focus on the greater things, they’d say. Don’t let these boys distract you from your goal.

Our goal, they meant to say. Since you were born, you never knew if the things you wanted were really your will or theirs.

But anyway.

That dynamic went on for a while, until the day Dave invited you to audition for them while you shared a Diet Coke in the tube home.

“Will it take too much of my time?” You asked, coyly.

“Bold of you to assume we’ll let you in that quickly.” He chuckles, amused by your confidence. You playfully elbow him in return. He knew how good you were at what you did, though, and there’s lightness in his tone when he continues, “But no, unless you let it. You’ll probably have to stand up to Damon every once in a while.” He sips the drink, handing it over to you.

“What about Graham? How much is he determined to make it big?”

“Damon’s the one who wants it the most. Graham’s studying Fine Arts at Goldsmiths, so. There’s still cautiousness in him.”

“Huh. Okay then.” You reply, thoughts running wild. “Do we have a time and date?”

“Is tomorrow ok to you?”

“Sure. After our class?”

“Perfect.” The train reaches his station. He ruffles your hair: “See you tomorrow then.”

“See you.”

You don’t tell anything about it to your parents, you just warn them that you’ll arrive a bit later than usual. Dave’s intel was crucial to your choice of songs: knowing Graham was the beatlemaniac and also the rational brake to Damon’s tireless ambition, you knew who to please and have as an ally, so you build an innovative and fresh mashup of Paul McCartney’s greatest basslines to play for them. Of course it could backfire, but you didn’t care. You had a hell of a good ear anyway and if Damon wanted you to play anything out of the blue, you would improvise beautifully over it.

The day comes. You didn’t know why you were that nervous for an amateur audition. You weren’t even sure if it was the right path to follow, given that, depending on how focused Damon really was and how contagious his aspiration was, being part of a band could really take you out of your predestinated course. The reason why you were so nervous, now thinking a little more about it, may be because deep inside, you want your path to be a little less predictable. You didn’t want to fill your heart with hopes that you might make it big and travel all over the world because you didn’t even know them. But… what if it clicks? You knew some people in the scene whose work was getting seriously recognized out there.

Meeting them for the first time was an enigmatic experience. Damon was incredibly brash and cocky - not the first theater kid you’ve met in your life. Graham was way more approachable, though also a bit conceited when pushed just right. You wondered if you’d fit in that boys’ club, and decided you wouldn’t be an easy target for discredit or any kind of shit they might give you. “Took me a while to fully get their trust. You’ll do just fine”, Dave said, out of their earshot.

That gave you more fuel to play amazingly well. Damon definitely wasn’t one to be impressed quickly, but he was, when you finished your set. So was Graham - Graham was starry eyed with your performance, actually. Albarn showed you a song and asked you if you could improvise to it, just as you imagined. Of course you could, on the first play. You even suggested some adjustments to its structure. Your feedback was welcomed and noted.

-

Even though everything went surprisingly well, you still weren't sure if you would be a member of “Seymour”, as they called themselves. (You knew it wasn’t the best name, but you didn’t have a better suggestion at the time so you’ve kept your opinion to yourself.) Graham became eerily quiet out of a sudden and wouldn’t cross eyes with you the entire time you were there. Damon, well, was Damon. Perhaps he thought you were too ordinary and mainstream for deciding to play Beatles when he’s trying to be the new avant-garde Jesus.

But Dave's news was different than you expected. “They really, really enjoyed your audition. As I thought they would.” You can hear the smile in his voice. "When can you rehearse with us?"

-

Months after, on your first gig as a fully formed and integrated band, Damon was hit in the face by a guy twice his size, Graham vomited onstage and you and Dave had to take care of both. A beautiful way to close the already exquisite day you had, after you fought with your parents, got kicked out of your childhood home and gave up on entering the Royal Academy of Music two days after you received your acceptance letter featuring rave reviews of your entrance exam.

Dealing with these boys - no, grown-ass men - was hard, but not completely unpleasant. If it were totally unpleasant, you wouldn’t give up on your entire life to embark on such an adventure.

You - plural you - were so gifted and Damon’s compositions were so good. You could see that artsy pretentious mess of an act going somewhere. Of course, you were a bit lost in your life, but so were they, as you ran from city to city meeting new people and trying new things in your journey to fame.

Loneliness, once a close friend, became a distant acquaintance. One you didn’t know anymore.

You confess you were getting worried, though, with how much money you had left on your savings and how much you were spending lately now that your parents weren’t an active part of your life. Wanting to eat something you cannot dream of buying without that money being really useful in a much more critical situation, not having nearly enough money to replace something important that broke or got torn off was frustrating. Some basic things became luxuries out of a sudden.

One day in particular, you very briefly mentioned that you were dying to eat a slice of chocolate cake, but your voice was so small and everyone was so immersed in their duties you thought no one gave two shits to what you said. Two days later, Graham arrived late at rehearsal with a small chocolate cake in his hands, handing it over to you like it was a completely ordinary act. Nothing in the way he acted told you he expected a reward, it was so natural and… gentle. You knew no one in your band could buy a chocolate cake without it being apocalyptic to their personal finances during that time.

That day, you were assured by fate that feeling lost together was better than feeling guided alone.

-

The band finally got on track - strictly musically speaking. Personally speaking, many contemporaries who followed you at parties and other events described you as an ever-growing odd, annoying and intermittently disarming bunch - and Blur and its members became household names, at least in the UK. It became harder and harder everyday to impose yourself as an entire industry and its target public aimed to tear you down. Men couldn’t understand.

(Graham Coxon was the one who tried the hardest to.)

It was four in the morning. You’ve got used to following your bandmates to hospitals, running away from trouble or knowing when to relish in it. But it was the first time you offered yourself to clean up dried blood from one’s face, given how much you hated seeing the fluid and even fainted when younger whenever exposed to it.

You, so delicately, wipe the saline solution-soaked cotton across Graham’s face, who flinches at the cold sensation on his still sensitive skin. He stares at you with the eyes of a child, and you couldn’t help but give him a slight, warm smile in return, which he retributes. Your face conveyed gratitude and affection towards the one you were taking care of. Your hands still struggled to stay completely still after the surge of adrenaline your body received a few hours ago.

Being the only girl in a massive band, and one the music magazines and mainstream media loved sexualizing, meant having paparazzis in your window in odd hours (not that that’s acceptable in any hour, but you had to lower your standards even more these days), meant having different photographers trying to pressure you to get into all kinds of uncomfortable angles with skimpy-ass dresses and just count on the intervention of your fellow bandmates so they would stop, also having invasive male fans who would try to harass you in any way they could.

Of course the day where one of your bandmates would get into a fist fight with one of these men inserted into these categories would come. And even though they were all protective of you, each in their own peculiar, increasingly contradictory way, Graham’s dedication to it was sometimes commendable.

You were making your way through a small corridor of people on your way to the stage when a random guy cupped one of your breasts. It’s not like the venue was incredibly tight, it could not have been on accident and it made your blood boil. You turned around to scream at him, and Graham, who was just behind you, threw a punch directly towards the man’s face, without thinking twice.

And oh boy, took a lot of people and a sweet amount of time to separate the two after that.

After all was said and done, Graham had a few scratches, a black eye and a cut brow. He kept dodging your many “sorrys”, “you didn’t have to do this” and other expressions of guilt. “You have nothing to be sorry about, he deserved it”, he kept assuring you, like a mantra, just giving in to your pleas when you supplicated to take care of his wounds during intermission and after the show.

“I get why you did what you did, Gra. I hate that you took such a risk because of me, but I understand.” you say, voice cracking from not using it for a while after spending some good minutes in complete silence taking care of him. “However,” you soak another cotton ball in the saline solution a roadie got you, punctuating the word with a squeeze to the cotton to remove excess liquid. “I was worried sick about you. What if he… had a knife or something? You could’ve got seriously injured. Or killed.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly able to have a good fight,” after wincing from the contact of the cold wet cotton with his dried blood, he purses his lips in a forced, shy smile, trying to light up the mood. He notices your hands are still shaking from the adrenaline, and takes one of them in his bigger ones, trying to calm you down. The fact that he did this for you, coupled with the fear and how tired you felt of having to go through that kind of situation once again, made you cry-laugh from how overwhelmed you felt.

His expression changes to one of pure compassion in an instant. “Hey, don’t--oh my,” he gets up from his chair to embrace you as you pour your frustrations through fat tears running down his shoulder.

“It’s so exhausting,” you mumble, through sobs. “Now I’m putting you in danger too. I feel like I did and I’m still doing everything wrong. I should be the one giving you a shoulder to cry on.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong! Anything at all, I promise you,” he says, tenderly, running his hands through your hair, still holding you tight. “It was his fault! I decided it was the right thing to do. You’re worth the risk. What people have been putting you through is unacceptable.”

“I’m not worth the risk!” You break apart from his arms, trying to get your point across. “What would I do without you if someone killed you? You need to be more careful!”

The silence hangs heavy between you two thanks to the weight of your words.

“You should’ve asked me before you lunged at him, at least. I don’t know.” You wipe your many tears as you move towards the nearest bottle of water to try to calm yourself down. “It’ll never end. I’m so afraid that these situations will get even worse. That,” you motion at his wounds and dirty clothes, “is a bloody tragedy. It’s a tragedy things escalated to this point. You can’t do that forever.”

“This is just a consequence. And something I would do for you in a heartbeat whenever necessary.”

“Graham, I don’t want you to get hurt because--”

“They hurt you. I won’t let you go through that alone. Besides,” he comes closer to you again. “As I already told you, I can take care of myself, most of the time.” He takes your face in his hands, his fingers so delicately running across your cheeks to dry your tears. You knew that gesture wasn’t his way of asking you for anything you weren’t ready to give him yet. He just wanted you to feel safe. “And I want to take care of you.”

“I’m the one cleaning your wounds.”

“A great partnership, I think.” Coxon chuckles softly, and finally gets a smile out of you. As he always does. “And they make me look cool, don’t you think?”

“Shut up.” You giggle, still feeling too emotional to return to the stage. You sigh: “Thank you for being there for me. You know I’m still not very used to it. Just please be safe.”

The roadie returns, a little flustered by interrupting your little moment together. “5 minutes and you’re back, guys.”

“Okay!” You both turn to answer her.

“I’ll be. No need to thank me for anything, Y/N.” He answers, giving your forehead a little kiss. “Let’s go.”

“Give me two minutes. I’ll be right behind you.”

-

“What’s it like, being the only woman in the band?”

Four eyerolls at once don’t seem to faze the interviewer. She waits for your response.

Apparently the thousand invasive questions regarding Damon’s love life and the same bullshit treatment of women as either rare specimen or sex dolls is what pleases the audience of music TV shows these days.

“What do you think?” is what you say.

“Must be a thrill to have these beautiful boys around you all the time. And we’ve heard you never even took advantage of it!”

You don’t like where this is heading. “Is that… a bad thing? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Perhaps some of our lady viewers might think it is. No judgement though!” She raises her hands. “You do you, it’s just that it’s quite unexpected to see prudes in non-Christian bands. I mean… from what we’ve heard.”

“I’m sorry? What are you trying to say? What did you hear?”

Her tongue clicks while she stares at you with defiance and mischief on her eyes, as she goes a little further and raises her voice so it can overlay yours. “Oh love. You do know what I’m talking about. There’s no need to be ashamed of being a virgin.”

Your cheek burns intensely and the only thing you wished for was for the ground to swallow you whole. Dave and Graham are especially uncomfortable. Damon’s a bit amused. The three knew almost everything there was to know about you. The one topic that surprisingly they didn’t know about is that you’re still a virgin.

They know you’ve been single for a long time. They know that’s part of what draws so much attention and twisted lore regarding you and your past, but that’s not something they felt they needed to know about you at all, and you truly never felt the need to comment about that with any of them, and they haven’t asked. Not even Mr. “the way to be successful in this game is to make all the boys wanna be you and all the girls wanna sleep with you. In your case that’d work in reverse” Damon Albarn.

“Is that even something that should be discussed in an interview about our music? Is that what your boss told you to ask her about?” Dave answers, his tone venomous.

“Musicians are way more than just music. You’re entertainment in every sense of the word.”

“Who told you that about me?” You asked, not sure if you want to know the answer.

“A lovely elderly lady who lives in Elgin Crescent. She knows you so well.”

That’s your mum. That’s how far low your relationship has degraded. You’re not surprised. That doesn’t feel less like a punch on your gut, but you don’t feel like tumbling again. Not today.

“I know who you’re talking about. Tell her I asked her to go fuck herself and burn in hell. In that order.”

“But that’s your--”

“Yes, she is my mum!” If people are going to expose you anyway, then why don’t you do it on your terms? “We’re truly entertainment in every sense of the word, aren’t we. Not everyone’s mum’s a cunt. Some of us aren’t that lucky.”

“You want to be the next Gallagher sister with the spicy remarks?”

“Not sure. But I do want to be the last person you ever get to interview.”

-

The management of the band wasn’t at all surprised your interview became UK’s topic of the week. People were heavily divided between family is family and we shouldn’t hate our relatives and blood isn’t everything, family can be shitty too. Your bandmates were proud of you. The management was angry but tried to understand, and didn’t press you for further explanations. They suggested a two-week break from everything so Blur could rest their image and start a fresh cycle after that, and you gracefully accepted it.

The whole thing seemed so ridiculous the more you thought about it. Did your mum tell the reporter about that gratuitously? What was their conversation like? How did that even happen?

You became the butt of jokes in some places. You saw other famous people doing challenges between them, countdowns, all sorts of crude remarks. What a pathetic, sad chapter of your career.

You dial Graham, and you feel like your heart was about to burst out of your chest.

“Hey, Gra. It’s me.”

“Hey, Y/N.” He sounds pleasantly surprised. “How's it going?”

“Better, I guess. I have to take my mind off all that chaos though. Are you available right now?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been owing me a movie night for quite a while now and I miss spending time with you. Wanna come over?”

“Aww. Sure, I--um. Do you want me to bring anything?”

“I’m pretty sure I got everything we need here--ah… I think I don’t have any more beers.”

“I’ll buy some then. See ya in a few minutes.”

Actually, you couldn’t take all that chaos off your mind because that was the only thing in it. You’re feeling so nervous.

The main reasons sex wasn’t a priority for you until now were:

You didn’t have any real opportunities of losing your virginity in your teens. You were impossibly introspective until, like, 3, 4 years ago, and the way your family worked hasn’t really allowed you to get really close to people. Be it boyfriends, girlfriends or just friends. Anything that threatened to take time off the various tasks and classes your parents assigned to you just couldn’t be part of your life. To be honest, you still struggled a bit to form meaningful connections with people thanks to how you grew up.

The moment you stopped being shy, you noticed it was a real man’s world out there, especially in music, classical or not. You didn’t want anyone to think you fucked your way up to the top, you didn’t want any messy affairs. Also, you had yourself, and you didn’t get all of the hype regarding the concept of screwing someone. But apparently there’s a lot you’ve been missing, given the importance people seem to give to it. After that incident, even though you swore to yourself you wouldn’t give in to any kind of misogynistic pressure, that was one that really got under your skin.

You never really found someone who you felt 100% safe with in that sense until the one who’s about to arrive at your house appeared in your life. Bloody hell, and you don’t even have anything romantic going on. By the time you were a Blur member, you’ve fooled around a bit, but not all the way. You knew how to kiss, knew how to touch yourself and even brought manual satisfaction to some random fool you thought you were into one time. But perhaps this is the time to go all the way. Why not? Everyone knew how close you two were. He made you feel special. He was so kind. And gorgeous. And--

You hear a knock on your door. It’s him. Beers in hand, hair somewhat in place, twitchy as ever.

He comes inside and you feel like your legs will give up anytime. It was not the first time he visited you. It was one of many, actually, and he noticed you were acting… different.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks after a brief dialogue between you two, after plating some snacks for both of you.

“Graham...” You sigh, being really careful with your words. “What is your perception of me?”

“My perception of you?” He smiles. “I… think you’re great. You’re fun to be around. You’re one of the best musicians I know, if not the best. Why are you asking me that?”

“N-nothing. It’s nothing. Also, I asked the wrong question. What was your first perception of me?”

“Uh… the day of your audition?”

“Exactly. You barely talked to me that day.”

His eyes lower to his own feet. “I was really timid, actually. I wasn’t used to being near any girl, especially one who… w-would spend so much time around me if everything went well.”

You giggle. “I thought you hated me.”

“Never!” his smile turns into a full blown laughter. You melt at his confession. “Also because it seemed like you were trying to read my mind or something.”

“Of course! Because I thought you hated me!” Now that was a laughter you two shared. You do a voice: “‘Why is that pesky girl trying to get in my band?’”

“My goodness, no! I don’t even sound like that - you know what, I changed my mind. You suck. Because, besides the fact you don’t even know what I sound like, you still haven’t told me why you are asking me that in the first place.”

You couldn’t help but notice how he slightly cornered you physically in one of the kitchen corridors. Graham could be really persuasive when he wanted to.

“Okay. Right. Um. I’ve been thinking about some stuff.”

“What, exactly?”

“Everything that happened this month. The great virginity debacle,” you roll your eyes, and he scoffs.

“You don’t own anyone any information about what you do or don't do with your life. Everyone’s being so invasive. That was incredibly childish of the reporter to do, and we talked about that hundreds of times.”

“Yeah, but… you know what, forget it.”

“Tell me, Y/N. I just said that because I want you to know you were not in the wrong.”

“I know. It’s just… I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s silly for me to… keep closing myself for affection. Any kind of affection.”

“What are you talking about?” His brows furrowed in curiosity.

“I’m not sure if it’s the pressure that finally got under my skin, but… I’m willing to learn what all the fuss is about. Maybe it’s silly that I’m still a virgin.”

He bites his lips, still processing what you just said, expression unreadable. Perhaps you’ve treaded a ground you shouldn’t. You step back both literally and figuratively. “I’m sorry I even brought that up--”

“No, no, don’t be.” He assures you. “I’m just… surprised, that’s all. I swear.”

“And...” You know what. You already went too far, so why not go all the way. You’ve already gone way past the point of no return. “I was wondering if… you would… popmycherry?”

His eyes widen, yours still closed. When you finally open them, he’s closer to you again.

If his head was a machine, you’re sure it would be releasing lots of steam and shaking due to overprocessing. You felt like you just ruined everything.

“Y/N, you don’t need to do it if you don’t really want to.”

“But I want it! At first I thought I didn’t, but then I thought...”

“I don’t want to be part of that if you’re just doing it to fulfill weird expectations.”

“But it’s not that. Not just... that. I asked about your perception of me because I really like you, Gra. I think we should be more than friends and I wanted to know what you think about me. And I want to know what the fuss is about, yes, but I’m not telling you that just so I can lose my virginity to prove some point. I’m telling you that because I like you, I want to kiss you, and I think it would be a great idea if you showed me what it’s like. Y-you know, sex.”

“I-I can’t believe it. Did you even have any movie in mind?” His smile’s back, but you’re still not confident about what his answer will be.

“I didn’t. I’m sorry. You don’t have to--”

He sighs. “I was in love with you the moment I first saw you, actually.” He says it like he’s releasing a huge load out of his back, his arms crossed. Now your eyes widen, and you hold your breath without even noticing. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I know how you feel, or, felt about relationships, so… there wasn’t any reason for me to tell you that. And what I said about being timid was just half of the truth.”

“Huh?”

“I also was really intimidated by how pretty you looked. You can’t imagine how.”

“No way.”

“It’s true. I felt like I wasn’t even worthy of looking at you, really.”

“You’re joking. That’s mean, Gra.”

“I’m not. I’m really not.” He doesn’t look like he is joking. He looks relieved. “I’m really not. That’s why I’m so surprised by your request.”

“I’m nothing special.”

“You are everything to me. But I can’t accept your offer, not now.”

“Are you… seeing someone? Am I too late?”

“No. Definitely not. I just want you to be sure you’re not doing it because people are saying you should.”

“Graham, I’m a grown woman.”

“I know.”

Graham carefully presses his slightly chapped lips to yours, kissing you for a few precious, heart stopping seconds before pulling away; his voice is impossibly silky when he suggests, “Let’s watch a movie. How about The Godfather? I heard it’s airing tonight. Then, if in two weeks you don’t change your mind, tell me and I’ll be glad to help you with what you want. Do we have a deal?”

“That’s so unfair. I want you so bad.” You whisper.

“Tell me if you still do in two weeks.”

You sigh, defeated. “...Deal.”

-

You definitely notice the subtle shift in Graham’s personality and actions after that fateful night. If you were already close, both figuratively and literally, it now seemed like he would use any excuse to always touch you, be near you, sometimes tease you. The shift was subtle, though, don’t forget it’s still Graham Coxon we’re talking about - the constant “is it okay if”s or “is it alright if I”s were still there, as careful as ever. You don’t even talk about your deal that entire time, or even kiss again - sometimes you wondered if it was even real or just a fabrication of your mind.

The way he now caressed your hand discreetly when you listened to Damon’s ramblings, the way his hands now went directly to your waist when your games became too handsy, the way he seemed to be madly in love with everything you were and still are from the start - made you realize you were ready for this man to be a consistent part of your life.

The dust of the controversy was settled, and your own intentions were 100% clear to you now. The societal pressure has waned. The need for Graham to be your first persisted. After exactly 2 weeks have passed, you call him again, yearning to share the answer with him.

One beep.

Two beeps.

Three beeps.

Four beeps. “Hello?”

You release a sigh hidden deep inside of your lungs. “Graham, it’s Y/N.”

“Oh. It’s been two weeks.” You could hear the contemplative tone of his voice.

“...Yeah. That’s precisely the reason I’m calling you.”

“Do you still want to…?”

“...Desperately.”

“Ok.” He chuckles, flustered as hell on the other side of the phone, probably one of the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard. “Right. Ok. Your place or mine?”

“I think there’ll be an element of mystery if I go to your place this time.” You lose some of the constraints this silly shyness has been tying you on. “Do you have everything we might need there?”

“We don’t need a dungeon, you know.”

“The basics.” You make your smile heard.

“I do have… I do have the basics.”

“See you in a few minutes then.”

“Will you want to… ease into it? Or just go straight to it?”

“God, don’t make it awkward!” Your cheeks burn, your smile turning into contagious laughter. “Maybe… I don’t know. Ease into it, I guess? A movie night… but with s-something else?”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

“Alright then. See you.”

“See you.”

-

You don’t choose any particularly fancy or sexy clothes, instead settling for a slightly oversized yellow striped shirt he gave you as a birthday present some months ago and some skirt that fit you well. He wasn’t one to lavish his loved ones with gifts all the time, but few things were as precious as the look on his face whenever he saw you wearing something he gave you or, hell, even eating something he paid for you. You’re thrilled to see it again when he opens the door for you, it easing some of your deepest doubts.

2001: A Space Odyssey is already playing on the TV when you arrive. Despite it being one of your favorite movies of all time, and his, you’re not mad it was already halfway through when you arrived. It wasn’t your main priority to rewatch it for the 17th time tonight.

He offers you some wine, which you accept to ease the nerves. You sit on his couch, and he shares the cozy space with you, now mindlessly throwing one of his arms around your shoulders. You cuddle up to him, and everything seems peaceful in the world for a while.

The tip of his fingers softly caress your lifted knee, absentmindedly. You couldn’t help but notice how well his body fits with yours, how your skin was apparently made for him to touch, and the anxiety rumbles in your stomach like a storm in a wild wavy sea. After some minutes, you raise your head, his big brown eyes meeting yours as if asking you a silent question. You leaned up a bit more to press your lips to his, in a silent answer. The sweetness in him makes this moment as precious as every other moment you ever shared with him. His hands enter your hair, making you shiver a bit from the unfamiliarity and the electricity of it all - but it doesn’t sway you from deepening the kiss, wanting more of his taste, more of this, more of him.

“Do you wanna take this to the bed?” He whispers, after noticing your moans were becoming more frequent and needy. You nod, and you are taken by surprise when he carries you bridal style to it, hiding your excited giggles in his broad shoulders.

Graham wasn’t exactly the most organized man in the world - so the fact that his bedroom was now impossibly tidy was something that positively caught your attention. He put some planning into this. He lays you down and you part your legs, beckoning him to meet you between them. He does, and you go back to the breathtaking makeout session. You notice he’s holding himself back a bit, taking his time, his warm tongue moving smoothly, not hurriedly, against yours. His self control falters a bit though, given how he can’t stop grinding against you. You follow the rhythm of his hips a bit timidly and not nearly as in sync as you’d really like, though the pressure his covered cock is creating against your core can already be felt and some particular thrusts are able to fill at least partially the aching, wet need growing within you.

“How do you feel about oral?” He asks, breath warm near your ear, his voice raspy and spent by his desire for you.

“Um… It would be my first time receiving or doing it.”

“Would you like me to go down on you?”

“Wow. I never thought I would hear you saying something like that.” You smile, still assimilating the situation you’re in, trying not to show how badly his voice is affecting you. “Sure.”

“I never thought I would get to propose this to you. Aren’t we full of surprises lately.” He smiles back, warmly. He notices your hands trembling a bit from how anxious you are while you’re taking off your underwear with his help, and as he lowers himself to where you need him most, he takes your hands in his as an act of reassurance. “Tell me what you like. Tell me if what I’m doing works for you. I want this to be a great experience.”

“You want me to get addicted to you, that’s what you want,” He chuckles, lovingly kissing your thigh as a reply. “Okay, Gra. Guess I’ll find out along the way.”

You quickly take a peak below you to see the lower half of his face disappear in the middle of your thighs. The sight alone sets your fire ablaze, as he hooks his arms around your thighs and lifts you closer to his mouth, his lips ghosting over the curls between your legs tantalizingly and his breath catching when your hips jerk forward.

As he begins his ministrations, you immediately notice it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. That feeling was completely alien to you. It was even wetter than you expected, and weird, but powerfully pleasant. Before this exact moment, you had a firm belief that hardly anyone else would make you feel the same way, or better, than you do yourself, but apparently you were very wrong. Thankfully you were wrong. “My god,” you gasp as the flat of his tongue drags over your folds, too much and not enough, and you jerk at the contact. “This is great. So weird, but-- great.”

He moans at your response, his movements carefully enthusiastic. He works his tongue between your folds and traces up to curl the tip of it around your clit, and it’s quite endearing and madly arousing to see how he eats out you like you’re the sweetest and tastier dessert he has ever tasted. You involuntarily buck against him with a desperate sound the moment he moves his tongue and lips in a particularly wicked way, something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him, but you still feel the need to highlight in case it didn’t - “That. Keep doing that, please,”

And he does. The building of this climax is also different than the ones you already had by your own hands, and is more coy. As he sees the drops of sweat sliding along your soft skin and the expressions on your face as you get lost in this new but enchanting sensations, his hesitation and self-control fades away; there’s nothing uncertain in the way he buries his face in your cunt now, nothing restrained in the groan he lets out as he devours you and drinks you down as if you’re the first stream of water he has seen in days.

His tongue glides deeper in your folds again and again, swirling up through the wetness you’re coated with to tease at your clit while he grunts and strains closer, squeezing your thighs with both hands tight. The wave of heat inside of you is cresting so fast, you don't even know how to tell him, how to signal that you’re nearly done for and, in the end, it happens too fast to even try. He sucks at your clit, circling it with his tongue, once, twice, and then you’re crying out, shaking underneath him, trying to keep your thighs from clenching too hard around his head as he laps you through it with with urgent whimpers and moans, as if he cannot have enough of you.

You’re still trembling when he rises, the look on his face revealing to you how proud he feels by making you feel this way. It looks so good on him.

You fail miserably at the simple task of connecting words together after that, choosing instead to collect your remaining strength, prop yourself up and beckon him again to keep kissing him and learn, through his talented tongue, how you taste. He kisses the thin fabric of the shirt at your chest that covers you from view, your throat, your jaw, and before he reaches your impatient lips, he notes, sinfully, “Seems like you enjoyed yourself, love.”

“That was… unbelievable. Stars, I want to make you feel good too. Please show me how.”

“Keep kissing me,” he begs, voice still strained from how aroused he is. “I want to be inside you so bad. Let’s get you prepared.” You’re still so sensitive, you tread on overstimulation when his fingers lightly touch your clit, making you break the kiss in a hiss. He traces a line on your folds, inspecting the impact his mouth had on you. “So wet for me.”

“Bit slower, Gra,” He complies to your breathy plea, his fingers now more tame as he slowly spreads your wetness throughout your pussy. He stretches towards the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube, interrupting his contact to spread some on his fingers before unhurriedly slipping his middle finger inside of you. The coldness of the gel makes you shiver in surprise, the easiness brought by it very welcomed. Again - the sensation is odd. Completely unfamiliar. The feeling of having something inside of you for the first time, going further than you ever dared to try, probing, exploring; the coldness of the lube clashing against your burning hot cunt. But it also felt nice. The focused look on his face was adorable, he looked like he was a scientist in the middle of very complex research.

Despite the panting, the messy hair and the fire in his eyes.

Your body already has a lot of new sensations to process simultaneously, so when he asks you to take off your bra and shirt so his tongue can work on your nipples - which you gladly accept, you feel like you’re on sensual overload. His tongue, again, so talented, takes your mind off the slight burning you feel when he introduces his ring finger to your soaked, throbbing core, his focused, carefully overpowering and constant stimulation driving you insane.

“Does it feel good?” He asks, voice muffled by your breast. You nod, carried by the wave of pleasure sweeping you.

“Yes. God, yes.” You pant, tangling your fingers tightly on his thick hair as an encouragement, a desperate sound escaping from your lips the moment he reaches a certain point within you you didn’t even know existed, hot mouth continuing to lick and suck your nipple. Even though you were spent by your last orgasm, he was indeed getting you addicted to those new feelings, and even though this was heavenly, truly heavenly, you needed more. “Gra, I’m ready, I think.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

Releasing your nipple from his lips with a sounding pop, he eagerly frees himself from his trousers - hard as a brick - and puts protection and lubrication on, swiftly positioning himself between your thighs while stroking himself to the sight in front of him. You motion to take off your skirt, and he holds your hand, not letting you. “Don’t. It’ll be really hot to fuck you in this.” He confesses, giving your forehead a kiss in a very different context than before. He aligns his forehead with yours, each of your lips just barely touching while you breathe each other’s air. He looks deep into your eyes, slowly running the tip of his cock between the slick folds of your pussy, coating himself in the remnants of your pleasure. “Do you trust me?”

You trust me to know your limits? Not to go any further if you don’t really want me to?

“Absolutely.”

The only response you get from him is a shuddering, helpless moan into your mouth and you hold him tighter to you, grinding your still sensitive cunt up against his cock while he pulls hard at the soft fur next to your head. You feel your soaking pussy lips part around the solid curve of his length and gradually coat the underside of him in slick with every gentle circle and roll your hips make, as he finally pulls away from your mouth to drop his forehead to your neck. He then, very slowly, penetrates you, stopping when he hears the noises you make indicating you’re struggling to adjust to his presence. Out of everything you’ve felt in the last minutes, this was by far the most painful sensation. “This-- is new,” you note, your face completely incapable of hiding the discomfort. He also notices that.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

“It’s okay. I’ll get used to it.”

“It’s not supposed to be about endurance, you know.” He says, a bit breathless and worried, caressing your hair. “Tell me when it’s okay to move. Or if you feel too much pain.”

After some long seconds and some deep breaths, you say: “Okay. Go on.”

“As you wish.”

He moves inside you at a very slow pace, the lubrication clearly making it easier for you to handle it. It still hurts, significantly, but the sensation of being filled is also surprisingly arousing.

His hand moves to your sensitive clit again in small, measured circles, your little moans being a mixture of the pain of penetration and the sheer ecstasy of seeing him falling apart because of you. The way his chest heaves while the drops of sweat start pearling his fair skin, the furrowed brows and broken groans, the thickness of him as he rests heavy up against your entrance, the way his voice presses deliciously tight in his throat as he gasps out into the quiet room - everything’s making your chest burst in love and satisfaction. You tighten your grip around him and roll your hips up into his cock, letting it break you open nice and slow; it stretches you wide with a deliciously sharp fullness and pleasure rips through you, and Graham becomes even more vocal as he picks up a steady and gradually faster pace. He turned all of your keys, it’s about time you turn some of his.

“Graham, deeper,” you whimper, continuing to tighten your legs and hoist yourself up, lifting your hips to take his cock deeper inside you. His name rips itself from your throat while Coxon clenches his jaw and starts to lose himself in the pleasure, holding you down into the bed while he allows your desperation to guide him to the perfect angle and speed to sate you. He found denying you to be impossible.

He snarls and curses as he holds you down and rails you, determined to make you sing again before he finishes, and to his delight, your heightened sensitivity gives him what he wants. And this time, he couldn't hold on.

Graham kisses you one last time as he groans and gives in, head dropping to your neck again. You didn’t reach a second climax, but stars, what an experience you just had.

When he comes back to himself enough to realise he still had you practically folded in half, he carefully pulls his softening cock free, taking the condom off and taking the strands of hair out of your face as you struggle to catch your breath. You suggest a shared bath, a suggestion he gladly accepts.

Too tired and too sore for pillow talk, comfortable silence falls as your hand finds his, and you lay, listening to each other’s breathing slowly settle.

I could get used to his little snore on my chest, is the last thought that twinkles on your mind before you fall asleep snuggled with him.

[filterjeons]

only you | kth

✦ pairing: kim taehyung x reader

✦ summary: you didn’t like getting jealous but it was hard not to, especially since taehyung is the man of every girl’s dreams. luckily, he convinces you that he has his eyes for only you

✦ rating: M, not suitable for minors

✦ genre: smut

✦ word count: 10.4k

✦ warnings: hard dom!tae, dirty talk, rough sex, degradation, spanking w paddle, orgasm denial, usage of toys (vibrator and anal beads), oral (m and f receiving), handcuffs, daddy kink, sadism/masochism, cumplay??, hand kink, aftercare 🥰, poor y/n acting bratty 😔, slight slight angst (nearly non-existent), yeri and joy being my spirit animals, and cute ending <3 (tf was that warnings list….n e ways)

You scoff at your boyfriend talking excitedly with your co-worker Irene about an art museum that opened up downtown. As you swirl your straw into the whipped cream of your strawberry milkshake, you mentally kick yourself at your look for a hang-out with your friends. The light blue dress was no match for Irene’s more mature pantsuit which suited her body well. What’s worse was you wore your iconic pigtails, instantly making you look like a child compared to everyone else’s more sophisticated clothes. Even Taehyung, who was just wearing a black T-shirt that fits his form well and beige pants, looked ten times better than you. 

You typically have a lot of self-confidence because after years of being bullied for looking like an elementary schooler, you didn’t have time to mope about yourself and you slowly started to not care anymore but today you feel it all goes down the drain.

“I think Van Gogh’s art is one of my favorites because…” you drown out their conversation and place your head on your hands with annoyance etched all over your face.

“What’s wrong, Y/N~?” Yeri teases, shaking you affectionately. You only grunt in response, which made your close friend giggle. “Is it that time of the month again?” You nod (although it was a lie) as you keep staring at Taehyung and Irene, feeling your stomach do somersaults whenever you see them laugh. Although Taehyung had an intimidating demeanor, he was very sweet and made friends easily. Good for him, since he could make friends with the entire town if he tried. Unfortunately for you, he was prone to many girls being drawn to him like a moth to light and constantly asking for his number, only to give you looks of disgust once they found out that you were his girlfriend. 

Why is he dating some girl who looks like a high school freshman?

Are you sure she’s 20? She looks like a 14 year old!

You absolutely hated that you were treated as a child. The looks you received whenever you walked down the street with Tae already made you feel uncomfortable. You knew you were never good enough and you were terrified that he’ll leave you for someone else, causing your jealous tendencies to kick in. There were plenty of fish in the sea and yet he chose you. You were surprised that he hasn’t broken up with you for your much hotter senior Irene.

Irene and you just strictly had a professional relationship, especially since she was above you in the workplace, and the only person she had a crush on is Kang Seulgi, the founder of a local dance studio near the building where you work. After your work shifts, you would sometimes stop by and watch kids train to be artists, reminding you of the dreams you once had when you were young.

Although you would give anything to be on a stage performing for millions of fans, you were content with your job as a fashion designer and be with your boyfriend who’s such a big flirt. 

“Did anyone tell you that you look like a 6th grader because you’re short and have no boobs?” your other friend Joy cackles, finding your annoyed reactions a source of comedy. Yeri chimes in with the harassment as they continuously made fun of your stature. You immediately throw French fries from Taehyung’s plate at them, embarrassment and anger bubbling inside you from the all-too-familiar teasing. It was different because you were close to Joy and Yeri but it still hurts as they were much more beautiful than you. You couldn’t compare to any of the sexier and mature girls and you didn’t like that way. 

“Aww, don’t say that! She’s still very gorgeous to me and trust me, her boobs are nice,” Taehyung smiled, placing your head on your shoulder. You relished in his praise before realizing that you were mad at him as you immediately pull your head up and look away from him. He looks back at you with confusion on why you were acting that way. Maybe something happened at work or you’re just having a bad day, but he wants to help you in the best way that he can. 

“TMI, man!” Yeri gagged dramatically, Joy following suit as they started to goof around. You would join them but you were still upset. Irene liked girls and Taehyung only had eyes for you so why were you so jealous? Despite your constant second-guessing, your heart was set that you were mad at him, even though the reason was extremely childish. Irene softly chuckled at you three before turning Taehyung’s attention back on her. 

“So, would you like to go to the museum with me sometime?” Irene asked calmly, somehow acting like nothing’s going on. Your insides were fuming, knowing that he’ll say yes because of how sweet he was. You grip Taehyung’s hand, trying to signal him to refuse but when his head bobbed up and down, you knew it was no use. 

“Yeah sure, let me know what time you’d like to go!” he smiled politely to which Irene returned the same

Oh no he didn’t. Not only will the town gossip think that your boyfriend dumped you for Irene but what if he starts to have feelings for her and throw you away? If there was one thing you loved the most in the world, it was Taehyung and you just weren’t ready to let him go.

You’re acting so stupid. It’s just a normal friendly hangout- Despite your head’s protest, you got up dramatically and glared at the two of them.

“Uh y’know what, I’m going to go home now. Irene, I’ll email you the designs for the future lineup and Taehyung, I hope you have fun hanging out at the museum or whatever. If you ever need me, I’ll be in my room by myself and I don’t want you near me,” you spat, immediately getting up and storming out of the diner. You knew you were acting extremely immature and some part of you regret it but how come he doesn’t like it when you interact with your guy friends but it doesn’t work the other way around? 

“Y/N sweetie-” he tried to go after you but you were already out of the door. He sighed with frustration, annoyed that he didn’t get to explain his side. 

“I think we should cancel since your girlfriend’s upset. I’m sorry, it was wrong for me to ask you to hang out and I know that we see each other as friends only. I just wanted to ask you because I was thinking about taking Seulgi there and she really likes art plus I figured Y/N would enjoy that kind of date,” Irene sighed, regret forming in her eyes.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault. I’ll talk to her, she’ll understand once she hears the full story.” Taehyung bids the girls farewell and runs after you. Irene gives him a nod as Joy and Yeri sit uncomfortably. 

“Well, who’s gonna pay the bill?” Yeri shrugged and all eyes were immediately on Irene, who only replied with an eye roll. 

You refused to come out of your room for the rest of the day, still holding onto that grudge. Taehyung was getting annoyed at your lack of communication, he initially tried to get in by baking your favorite cookies but you didn't budge. You didn’t like ignoring Taehyung as well and you would rather be in his arms instead of sewing dresses for work but your petty heart didn’t want to let go.

You tried reasoning with yourself but once you’re set on something, you can’t get yourself to go the other way. As you stitch pieces of fabric together, the temptation grows even more.

Eventually, you couldn’t be cooped up in your room forever so as you sneakily made your way down to your kitchen to get some of Taehyung’s cookies (although he didn’t know how to put on an apron, he was an amazing baker), you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist and his body behind yours. You gasped at the shock as his low chuckle vibrated against your back.

“Got you baby!” he grinned, hugging you tightly. You wanted to melt yourself into his embrace and beg for his forgiveness but a part of you wanted to prolong the chase and continue to be a brat because inside that sweetheart is a scary hard dom, and you wanted to see him turn aggressive. His duality always kills you and as much as you love being sweet and soft with him, his dominant aura is always your favorite. 

“Leave me alone,” you grumbled, trying to push him off but he still kept on, even when you’re trying to go back to your room. 

“I’m not going to let you go~,” he said in a sing-song voice, clinging onto your back like a koala. You debated to yourself if you wanted to do this and on a whim, you did what would be one of the scariest things in your life.

“Leave me the fuck alone! Go away, I-” you growled, using your force to push him out and that’s when you immediately knew you fucked up. 

“Go on, repeat those fucking words,” Taehyung’s voice suddenly dropped extremely low, thanks to him being a baritone as he turned your shoulders around to face him. His eyes were now filled with anger and lust and you felt sweat dripping down your back, you knew you were in trouble. 

“I-I-” you couldn’t find the courage to talk, your heart was pounding against your chest and you knew that you can’t make a comeback so you immediately got into your submissive position on your knees, fear evident in your face. 

“I’m sorry, Daddy! I-I didn’t mean it-” you blubbered, knowing that he’s not going to go easy on you tonight and you were terrified of what was to come. 

Taehyung only scoffed and pulled you up, dragging you into your shared bedroom by your hair and manhandling you onto your bed on all fours. You felt your heartbeat a billion times faster and you tried sticking your ass out to feel him but to your dismay, there wasn’t his familiar warmth. He was on the other side of the room, going through the black box in his closet that kept all of your toys. You tried decorating it to at least make the outside look cute but it still looks intimidating inside and out. 

“You’ve been such a brat today and it made Daddy so fucking angry. Now tell me baby girl, why am I mad at you?” 

“U-um, I was jealous towards Irene, I was overreacting, I didn’t talk to you about it, and I was a meanie bitch and ignoring you.” “Do you wanna know why Irene asked me out that time? She wanted to go because she was thinking about taking Seulgi on her first date there and she asked me to visit it with her to see if you might be interested in going with me sometime. I assume you already know that Irene liked girls but you were jealous for what? Do you not believe me when I say I love you everyday?” You felt your heart drop to your chest as you started to cry with embarrassment and shame on how you acted. You definitely shouldn’t have stormed out without an explanation and here you are paying the price for it. 

“I-I’m sor-” “I’m not accepting any apology from you tonight because it’s my turn to be mad. Don’t think you’re getting a break tonight because the only way to make up for what you did today is to take everything that I give you. Are you going to obey or be the naughty slut that you’re always are?” he suddenly appeared next to you and growled deep into your ear, nibbling your earlobe. You nodded quickly, your panties slowly becoming wet as butterflies started to fill your stomach. 

He felt your panties underneath your dress and scoffed at the slick coming out. “Stupid fuckslut likes that? Of course she does because she’ll do anything just to get a cock stuffed inside her. What a shame, I thought you were a good girl but I guess I was wrong. You’re just a dumb little baby.” You mewled quietly at his degradation, his voice was cold and cruel but it was such a turn on. 

“What’s the safe word, honey?” “S-star-” “Alright then, fifty slaps with no exceptions. Don’t think you can bargain with me baby because I’m not going any lower,” he snarled, tearing your flimsy panties off and massaging your ass cheeks to prepare you for what’s going to come, a small act of kindness in comparison to his terrifying aura. “Count bitch.” 

You braced yourself for the sharp hit but instead of his familiar calloused hand, your ass was met with a harder sting that immediately turned your flesh red. You widen your eyes as you piece together what’s happening. Although Taehyung bought a paddle long ago, he never had any reason to use it but today was the day because of your bratty behavior. 

After that slap, it was hard for you to talk due to how sudden the hit was. Tears were threatening to fall down your face as you tried to take in the spank. 

“Did I fucking stutter? I said count,” he said sternly, hitting you again and snapping you out of your daze. 

“O-oh, one!” you cried, your ass hurting from the force of the paddle. What’s worse is that it’s a wooden one, leaving your marks and bruises for the next day. Although it’s the weekend, you were sure that you’re not going to sit properly for a whole week. Then again, have you ever sat normally whenever Taehyung fucks you? Meanwhile, Taehyung is completely enjoying the red and purple bruises that are forming in your skin as he hits all of his frustration at your behavior to your ass. It sounds completely wrong but the way your body reacts to the paddle and your choked moans and whimpers of pain is just a turn on to him. He never knew he liked having you act like this until he put you in this position, giving him all of the control. His pants started to tighten as he thinks about you attempting to walk or sit down after he’s done with you. 

You stifle in sobs as you called out numbers following the hits you received. Despite the absolute pain you felt, you could feel even more slick coming down your thighs as he continues to smack the back of your thighs and your ass. Even though a part of you is chiding you for finding some pleasure in being hurt like this, you liked the pain nonetheless. 

Apparently, your arousal couldn’t be more obvious because as he reached the halfway point of his 50 spanks, he started to notice how wet your pussy was.

“Wow, you fucking slut, you seem to be enjoying this huh? Does it turn you on? Does being in pain get you off?” he mocked, your heart taking his words sensitively. You let out a shaky moan, nodding with pleasure flowing through your body. 

“Well lucky for you because I like this as well. Honestly, I like it too much if I’m being completely honest.” You were shocked at his confession, trying to consume the fact that your sweetheart boyfriend actually liked hurting you. It was definitely a surprise but for some sick reason, it was such a turn on. Hey, maybe you two were truly meant for each other because you liked the pain that he gave you. However, that statement was a distraction from your current situation at hand. He started to slam the paddle faster, the pain hurting 10 times more and you swore that there will be splinters by tomorrow. You let out screams and higher-pitched moans from the impact, covering your face with your pillow to somehow relieve you from his actions. 

“Did you want to piss me off? Were you that much of a horny bitch that you’ll do anything to have my big cock stuffed inside you? No, I don’t have to ask that because I know you do. You’re aching in that tight little pussy from my words, huh? Even though you’re lowkey scared of it, you’re getting wet from the spanking. Stupid little cockwhore.” You could nearly cum from his cruel words, his deep and raspy voice talking to you as if you’re inferior to him. You could barely form words now as you just drooled and babbled on the pillow. 

He landed the last two hits on the back of your thighs and the top of your ass respectively. Just for the fun and pleasure for him, he gave you an additional slap with his hand and giggled at your sobs from the surprise. 

“Jesus, that was so hot. I nearly jizzed in my pants thanks to you. Seeing you in pain is such a turn on,” Taehyung muttered, sitting next to you on the bed and facing you towards him. He mockingly pouted at your sniffling face, wiping away the tears that were splattered around your cheeks.

“Are you okay? Did I go too hard?” he asked with concern, a complete 180 from what he was before as he gave you small kisses on your face. You found it so sweet how as much as he likes punishing you, he still cares so much about your safety because he is your boyfriend after all. Although the spanking was intense, you weren’t in danger and everything was consented. 

“Daddy...I’m okay,” you croaked, trying to nuzzle your face in the crook of your neck and although his eyes showed some warmth, his face turned expressionless after a minute of checking up on you.

“Did you learn your lesson yet?” 

You knew that this was like child’s play to him and he can go longer. Even though you were kind of nervous, you wanted him to snap and show his scarier side. You shook your head in response to his question, starting to revert back to your bratty self. “Well, that was nothing. I don’t know if you can handle me but it didn’t work.” Taehyung obviously didn't believe you, judging from the look in your eyes and your quick movements that you were clearly affected by the spanking. He also knew that you were lying right out of your teeth and you want him to put you in your place. Obviously, it’s what he’s going to do. He’s going to make you learn your lesson no matter how much you’re going to act up because a fact that Kim Taehyung knows is that there’s no better brat-tamer than him. 

“Hmm, I don’t think I can forgive you yet because you’re still lying like dumb little girls do when they want something. How sad, I guess you’re going to need more punishments until I get that attitude out of you,” he says, feigning disappointment in his tone. 

You felt your heart dance at his words before realizing that he has more in mind than the spanking. You whimper at his words and he rolled his eyes at you, knowing how much you’re enjoying this. 

All of a sudden, he ripped off your dress like it was nothing, the now ruined fabric fluttering lifelessly towards the ground. How was he able to tear it apart like that? Has he been working out?, you thought, especially since you swore that the dress was hard to tear. You whined at what he did, especially since it was a staple part of your wardrobe and one of your favorites. However, he didn’t care about your reactions as he easily snapped your bra into two pieces, throwing the destroyed material in some corner of the room. 

A wave of embarrassment ran through your body at the fact that you were completely bare and he was still clothed. You tried to cover your chest but it was no use as he forcefully pulled your arms away, exposing your breasts to him. 

“Your body is so beautiful, don’t be shy,” he crooned, playing with your nipples and flicking the sensitive bud. Taehyung’s face went up to your neck, kissing your sensitive spots and sucking on it to make hickeys. “But they’d look more gorgeous with my marks, huh?” You let out a shaky moan, already turned on by his ministrations and the ache between your legs growing worse but to your dismay, he ended there and got off of the bed. Disappointed at his sudden stop, you started to whine and thrash among the sheets but a sharp glare from him had you obey instantly. 

“Stay there baby girl, you’re definitely not off the hook,” he sighed, walking back to the black box to retrieve some of the toys. You inhaled a shaky breath, nervous on what’s going to happen. You tried to peer behind his broad back to see what he picked up but you could only hear his sinister chuckle instead. 

“D-daddy, what are we gonna be using?” you squeaked, hating the obvious fear in your voice because he knows that you’re nervous about what he’s going to do and use it to your advantage. Your boyfriend comes back and throws a bunch of toys on the bed, each one somehow being more intense than the previous. The handcuffs and vibrator were easily familiar to you as you’ve used them before but the last toy was what caught your attention the most. 

Anal beads?! He’s absolutely insane!, you internally screamed, staring at him with wide eyes while he brought a bottle of strawberry lube on the nightstand. It wasn’t like you were scared of it or anything, it was just so surprising that he’s going to use it on you now. You’ve heard about them from Joy who said that although the feeling was strange at first, it felt good later on and you took her word in mind. Now that the toy was out in the open, it reminded you of when you saw it in the box while you were searching for your sewing kit and talked to Taehyung about it. While you both decided that you’ll wait a bit until there was a time where it’ll be used, you never thought it would happen now (but you sort of understand as you are getting punished now).

“Are you ready honey? Is this okay?” he asked gently, rubbing your back to calm you down. You nodded, slowly feeling your nerves go away after some reassurance. 

“What about you? Do you think you’re ready?” you sassed back, the all-too familiar bratty attitude showing. “Oh, you wanna play that game? I’m just worried because you can barely take my dick but since you’ve been too naughty, you’re gonna take it like a good girl,” he teased, a blush forming in your cheeks as he settled you down on all fours. Compared to your height and Taehyung’s, he was obviously huge under his pants and although you liked getting dicked down until the next day, the aftermath is definitely not that pleasurable. 

You instructed yourself to take deep breaths, bracing yourself for the toy. 

“You ready, kitten?” he called out from behind and you nodded rapidly, wanting to get it over with as soon as possible. All of a sudden you felt the first bead ram inside you, making you feel sparks of pleasure. “That’s my good girl.”

Luckily, there were a total of three beads for a start since it was your first time but the first one already felt huge. Maybe it’s due to your inability to take big stuff well but you were terrified on the other two that are twice as big.

“O-oh my god...I-“ you gasped out, trying to accommodate the small sphere into your hole. 

“Why are you acting like it’s too much for you? Come on, I know you can take more than that,” he chided playfully, lubing the second bead to insert it inside you.

“I-I- don’t know if I can!”

“Shh, you want Daddy to forgive you right? You’re my big girl, it’ll be alright.”

You let out a whine as the second was inserted, making you feel full already. Taehyung thumbs at your hole soothingly to try to make you less worried and to make the bead more comfortable in you.

He observes your state right now: your face red from the stimulation and smothered on the plush pillows, your body was bent to display your gaping hole, and your walls fluttering around the pink bead to accommodate the intrusion. Your position was just enough to make his pants feel increasingly tight and uncomfortable.

“Damn, you look so sexy,” he murmured, his praise making you feel good and embarrassed at the same time.

“One more sweetie, one more.” That was the sentence that had you in fear. Surely two beads was enough for you, it’s gonna be hard for you to take the full thing!

“Daddy, i-it’s too much! I don’t think I can handle it!” you cried but the pillow muffled your words.

“You got this, you’ve been a good girl so far,” Taehyung coos, tapping the end of the bead that was currently in you to tease you. With his praise in mind, you decided to go through it as you tried to spread your legs and push your ass out even more to make the last bead more comfortable in you.

Luckily, he was kind enough to add a large amount of lube to make it less painful while toying with the end of the previous one inside you. 

You focused on relaxing yourself so that you’re not tense and reveled in his gentle motions against you. After one more, it’ll all be over, right?

“Good girl, you’ve been such a good girl for me. One more, okay?” 

He slowly inserted the last bead, watching your hole attempt to expand and take it in. You let out a squeal, trying to fit it inside. Your boyfriend watches your fluttering walls straining around the pink toy as it stretches to fit it in alongside the other beads. Eventually, you made it fit with the aftermath of being completely plugged up in your behind.

“Hah~ oh, s-so big,” you moaned, trying so hard to fit the beads inside you. Your nerves were on fire, the toy giving you new sensations you never knew you could feel. It didn’t hurt but you felt full despite only being three spheres.

“That’s my good girl,” Taehyung sighed with content, tapping the end of the last bead to slowly push it inside you by centimeter.

“Daddy, it’s too much! I-I-I don’t think I can do it, it’s too big-“

With one quick motion, Taehyung flipped you on your back and you felt the beads push deeper in your hole, hitting your spots.

“Aww, my little slut can’t take it? Is she too sensitive? Such a little baby, you look so cute in this position, especially since you’re so sensitive!” Taehyung cooed as you let out broken moans due to the overwhelming pleasure. “You’re lucky that I’m not that mad as I was before. Keep those beads in you until I decide when I want to take them out.”

You nodded blankly, his words barely registering in your hazy mind. You didn’t know how much longer you can to, especially since Taehyung sounds like he wants to fuck you stupid. 

“Hey, you okay?” he asked softly, waving a hand over your face. Quickly snapping out of your daze, you nodded and tried to snuggle up towards him. He laughed at the cute action, playing along with the simple moment until he brought out a pair of handcuffs in front of your face. Yup, you’re still in trouble, you sighed to yourself, forgetting about why he’s acting that way.

“It’s not the furry ones?” you pouted, blatantly swallowing at the hard metal.

“You’ve done too much to even think about getting the soft ones. It’s okay, you won’t feel the pain once I make you feel good.” Obediently, you brought out your wrists without him asking and he attached the cuffs within a second. Surprisingly, he gave you a kiss on the cheek and patted your head affectionately, your all-too familiar kind boyfriend emerging for a split-second.

“You’ve been a good girl so far, keep it up and maybe your punishment will end quickly,” he murmured, massaging your sides and spreading your legs apart. You felt him kiss the inside of your thighs and kitty-licking your slit, the teasing immediately turning you on even more.

“T-tae,” Although he was barely doing anything, you already felt even more sensitive especially with the anal beads inside you. You wanted to tug on his dark black locks, at least clutching onto a part of his body, but the handcuffs made it impossible to. It wasn’t even chained to the bed but it was no use fighting against it.

Taehyung could sense how impatient you were, your hips thrusting up uncontrollably to try to at least have some more movement inside your aching pussy. He chuckled to himself at how he made you instantly want him but since he’s in charge, he gets to decide whether or not to pleasure you.

“Shh, only patient little girls get what they want. What’s the magic word?”

Is he seriously doing this right now?, you thought but you immediately answered the question, desperate to at least have something. It must’ve been obvious how needy you’ve gotten because Taehyung’s long slender fingers were inserted in you with no warning.

You let out a shaky moan, your cunt immediately clenching around his fingers as he pushed them in and out at a quick pace. Your brain was completely fried as you couldn’t think or say anything except the feeling of euphoria you were in. Despite having his fingers inside you before, it felt more sensitive and pleasurable this time and you were ready to cum.

Unfortunately for you, he pulled his hand away from your needy pussy despite your attempts to trap it with your thighs. You started to whine and kick from the denial, upset that you didn’t get to finish.

“Calm down, we haven’t gotten to the real fun yet. You’ll be my good girl, right?” he said calmly, reaching over for the vibrator and inserting the batteries in. Normally, the pink toy didn’t have an effect on you because you used it numerous times while Tae was gone but for some reason, you felt nervous as if it was your first time using toys. You absolutely knew he was going to edge the hell out of you and although it was not that pleasurable for you, the build-up to your orgasm only for it to be cut away is a source of entertainment for him. 

But since you’ve been consistently good ever since he put in the anal beads, you were hoping that he’d let you come this time. 

You felt the head of the vibrator rub against your folds, the moisture slowly gathering onto the tip and the sheets. It was currently at the lowest speed and you were aching for it to be filled inside you. The buzzing of the toy was the only sound that rang out in the room and Taehyung didn’t say a word but his expression told you about what he’s going to do. 

All of a sudden, he suddenly inserted the vibrator inside you, the sudden intrusion igniting a small fire inside your body as it tries to take in the sensation. Even though the feeling shouldn’t be completely new to you, you felt overly sensitive like it was your first time. 

“T-tae, oh my god. I-i, oh...” you moaned lightly, wanting to feel a part of him but he prevented that from happening. Knowing the effect that he had on you, Taehyung slowly started to peel off his shirt due to the increasing temperature in the bedroom. With his tanned skin and toned stomach on display, the temptation of wanting to break free from the handcuffs was just too much. 

“Da..daddy...please…” 

“Yeah? Does it feel good? Are you glad you finally had something in that slutty cunt?” he taunted, turning the vibration up to the highest. The switch in level made you clench around the toy tightly, slick coming out of your system rapidly. He aimed the head to your clit, making the sensation feeling even better and getting you near your orgasm. 

Your body felt like it was on fire as you didn’t know where to focus yourself on. Since Taehyung restricted you from grabbing onto something to settle yourself, it just felt like you were in a different headspace. The amount of pullings you did onto the handcuffs are going to leave marks on your wrists but honestly, it was the least of your concerns at this point. 

He suddenly removes the wand from your clenching pussy, hovering it around your folds as you leave more slick from the slight movement the vibrator had on you despite not completely being inside you. Your juices were drenching onto the bedsheets and his hand and a part of you felt embarrassed but if Taehyung had no shame, neither then you. 

“Do you want something inside you? Does your cute little pussy want to be filled up?” he said darkly, waving his long and slender fingers in front of your face. He absolutely knows how much you love his fingers, at least 3 of them filling you up well. 

“Y-yes daddy, mmph, p-please fill me up with your long, oh god, fingers…” you purred, your eyes drooping from how much pleasure you’re receiving. 

“Keep your eyes up babygirl, I want you to stare at me while I make you feel good.” Taehyung aligns the head against your clit again as he inserted one of his fingers inside. The action caused you to let out a small scream, your body starting to shake on how much he’s doing to you. 

“T-Taehyung-” “Is that my name?” “I’m sorry, D-daddy! I-i-it’s so much, I don’t know if I can take it!” you whimpered, your juices coming out of you at an increasingly fast rate and your hands pathetically thrashing onto the restrains. 

“Yeah? My little baby can take it, this is nothing isn’t it?” he smirks, adding two more fingers to completely stretch your walls out. You felt yourself jolt from the increased action, tears starting to form at the corner of your eyes. 

“Da..daddy, shit, shit, oh, it’s so much, I, I,” you mewled, your body in cloud nine as you try to form sentences in your brain. Although you didn’t talk much, your moans and whimpers were music to his ears as Taehyung was satisfied with himself that he got you in this way. 

“Aww, it’s too much? Too bad, you know you want more than a vibrator. I know you’re dying for me to pound this tiny little pussy with my big fat cock. You want to feel my dick deep inside your stomach and try to keep my cum inside you, huh? Do you want that, you little fucktoy?” 

You didn’t know how he could read you like a book but it was what you wanted nonetheless. A flash of pink flew across the room before hitting against the wall, the identity being the vibrator that Taehyung was using on you a few minutes ago. Although you could still feel his fingers pump inside you, your clit was instead covered by his mouth. 

“Ahh! Oh my god, oh my god! Daddy!” you shrieked, your attention being directed on him. He swirls the bud with the flat of his tongue and occasionally flicked it to help send you off. Surprisingly, his fingers were still moving as well and you felt them hit the spongy texture of your g-spot, your body reacting to the sensation sensitively. 

You felt the all-too familiar knot in your stomach, signalling your orgasm. With the insane amount of pleasure, he would be too cruel to deny it. With your mind becoming absolutely hazy, the last thought you had was to finally release. 

Unfortunately, your thoughts weren’t answered because after a few more pumps, he immediately pulled his fingers out and his mouth was nowhere to be found on your clit. 

“Do you think I’m gonna let you cum? I don’t think so,” he mocked, sucking off the liquids and watching your body thrash against the bed from the denial. 

“Wh-what? Why? Why?” you whined loudly, the build-up fading away and your mind was back to the present. Of course he wasn’t going to let you cum right away despite how good you were because it was still a punishment. 

“Because I said so,” he stated in a matter-of-fact way, mesmerized at your body’s reactions. 

“But I’ve been good! I obeyed when you put in the anal beads-” “That’s not enough though.” 

“What the actual hell? You’re such a dick!” you muttered angrily, trying to catch yourself from the denial. Although it was pretty quiet, Taehyung’s ears picked it up and he was definitely not happy with what you said. 

“What the fuck did you say?” he growled, placing himself next to you and choking your throat with just enough force that was typical whenever you were acting up. You gasped at the lack of oxygen as you tried to form an excuse. 

“I-I’m sorry-” “Shut up. I thought I fucked the attitude out of you but I guess you still need to be taught a lesson. You’ve been using your bratty mouth too much, perhaps you’ll learn how to silence yourself with my cock inside it,” he snarled, standing up to remove his pants and boxers, the outline of his dick already making you hot and bothered. 

Although you’ve been living with your boyfriend for a long time now, his dick size never fails to impress you. Unfortunately, it means that he’s not going to have mercy on you, especially since you pissed him off. 

“I thought you were going to be a good girl but you just love acting up, do you? Do you like being a stupid slut? Did my little girl grow up to be a dumb brat?” he scoffed, pulling down his undergarments to reveal his huge cock, the tip hitting his belly button area before standing up proudly. You felt your mouth water at his size, wanting to take the whole thing inside you. 

“Well, what are you waiting for? Are you going to obey like a good baby or are you going to keep on talking with that bratty little voice?” he snapped, taking you out of your gazing. You nodded obediently, not saying a word otherwise you would get in even more trouble. Taehyung stroked his cock for a bit, the pre-cum acting as lube to make it easier for you to swallow. 

Once his tip was placed in front of your lips, you immediately opened and took his length inside you, trying to fit as much as you can. Normally, you could suck a good half but since you’re on thin ice from your behavior, he’s definitely going to make you take the whole thing. Hearing his low husky moans made you feel better, knowing that you’re at least doing it right. 

You could feel him inch deeper inside you until you were nose deep between his balls. Taehyung’s head was thrown back and sweat was dripping down his face as his tip went past your gag reflex, the warm and wet sensation making the feeling extremely sensational. 

“D-addy, do you want me to-” you garbled, trying to form words but they came out as mostly gibberish due to the amount in your throat. 

“Choke on it, slut.” He starts to thrust forwards and backwards at a fast pace, one that you’re not accustomed to. Due to his length being too much for you to handle, you felt a long stream of tears flow down your cheeks as you try to hollow your throat to accommodate him.

“God, that feels so good. Finally my little baby is using her mouth for something good,” he grunts, placing his hands on your shoulders to thrust quicker. The low moans and growls he makes while you suck his dick turns you on, the all-too familiar ache between your legs building up again. “Do you like gagging on my cock baby girl?” You let out a nod which only made your breathing harder so you instructed yourself to breathe through your nose. Taehyung wasn’t looking empathetic for now as he smiled sadistically while chasing his own high. 

With your face being near the base of his cock and your jaw slacked to attempt to take him and make it easier for you, you truly thought he was cruel for making you take him whole. Hearing your little gags and garbles starts to make him go faster as he thrusts in and out of your mouth at an inhuman-like pace while you try to suck on him better to get more of his reactions. 

“God, you look so fucking hot like this. Your mouth feels so so good, I’m gonna cum,” he gasps, your little whimpers vibrating against the underside of his shaft. You felt a line of saliva flow down the corner of your mouth as your throat starts to close around his dick. 

“Gonna cum, yeah fuck baby, I’m gonna cum,” he chants, his thrusts slowing down and after a loud moan of your name, his hot and sticky liquid spurted down your throat. You decided to take it down your throat, slowly sucking on it to clean his seed from his dick as he gently took it out from your mouth. With the length removed, you let out a deep gasp of breath as you struggled to breathe properly. 

“Whoa, baby, are you okay?” he asked, patting your back gently in an attempt to help you breathe. After a few minutes of clearing your throat, you nodded while wincing from the ache from the back of your throat. 

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be okay,” you gasped, slowly breathing in and out. 

“Good,” he beamed before turning back into his dominant self. However, instead of the coldness that he showed you before, his eyes are more playful and loving. “Did you learn your lesson?” You nodded weakly, cuddling your face against his chest. “I did, I’m extremely sorry Daddy! I didn’t mean to say that.” He pretended to think deeply as if he wanted to accept your apology or not. You prayed that he does because you’ve already been punished enough. 

“It’s okay baby, I forgive you,” he smiled, his iconic box smile popping up on his sunshine-like face. “But know that I’ll always be yours, no matter what and I hope the same for you.” “Duh, now shut up and kiss me,” you snarked and although he rolled his eyes at your abrasive personality, he complied anyways.

“Hold on, let me take your toys off,” he sighed, unlocking the handcuffs and bending you over to remove the anal beads. You moan from the movement as you’ve gotten accustomed to the toy inside you. You watch intently as he carefully places them on the nightstand to disinfect later and carries you to the bed. “You ready for my dick, baby girl?” His tip was placed against your folds, teasing you slowly. You let out a shaky moan, wanting this just as much as he does. Taehyung took it as a yes as he slowly entered inside you, grunting from the inclusion. “Damn, you’ve gotten so much tighter, huh?” You just let out shaky moans and whimpers in response as you feel him completely enter you and fill you up. Your walls were fluttering around his length as you tried to take as much as him in, causing him to let out a low groan. 

“Jesus fuck…” he grunted, as he immediately took his cock out, hovered it above your cunt, and slammed it inside you with such force. You let out a scream from the action, catching you off guard as you try to match up with his quick pace. 

Like it was nothing, Taehyung snapped his hips quickly like it was child’s play as he fucks you deeper and harder, more intense than all of your previous rounds. He touches his bulge that’s deep inside your stomach, causing you to let out a whimper from his smirking face upon you. 

“Yeah, does my little baby like being filled up and having my cock be deep inside her?” he asks while fucking you like no tomorrow. 

“O-oh my god, yea, yes Daddy,” you purred, your half-droopy eyes interlocking with his, a simple but cherished action he likes during sex. It can be intense and a bit awkward at times, especially since he has a look that could make anyone fall on their knees on a normal day, but his dark starry eyes were to die for. After a minute, you look away with embarrassment but Taehyung cups your cheek and continues to stare for a moment longer. 

“Don’t look away from me baby, I wish you can see how much your cute face looks while you’re getting your pussy pounded.” You were getting close to your orgasm again, your pussy clenching and fluttering around his dick. He could sense it too as he starts to pick up the pace and hit against your g-spot more often. “Shit, kitten, are you going to cum now? F-fuck yeah, cum for me now. I wanna see your cute face while you cream around my big dick.” His words were like the tipping point for you to orgasm as the knot that was building up finally lets out. You let out a scream as you felt your liquids gush around him, your mind having no thoughts in the world other than the feeling you have right now and your body is shaking violently from the pleasure. But instead of your usual intensity of an orgasm, you felt yourself squirt everywhere. Not only were your juices splattered onto your boyfriend’s cock but you felt the area around you feel drenched and some of them got onto Taehyung’s stomach and arms. 

He stared at you with wide eyes and an open mouth as he started to thrust sloppily, chasing after his high as well due to the sight. “Fucking shit, you squirted all over me baby. Damn that was so hot.” You whimpered from the sensitivity as he continued, his grunts and moans increasing in volume. “Jesus fuck, holy shit, the things you do to me baby girl.” After letting out a guttural grunt, his dick started to inflate and shoot out thick loads of his seed into your battered cunt. Taehyung slowly exited himself out of you and flopped down on the bed next to you while pushing his long fingers inside to keep his cum in there. You let out a squeal from the intrusion as he slowly brought some of his load in front of your face and tapped on your lips, slightly coating them.

“Can I have them Daddy?” you whispered and he gave you a nod in response. Like there was no tomorrow, you immediately inserted his fingers into your mouth and wantonly sucked on them, savoring the salty taste of his cum. He raised an eyebrow at your behavior and pushed them deeper, the flat of his fingers feeling the back of your mouth. This caused you to gag, the action reminding you when you were sucking on his dick a while ago. 

“O-okay baby that’s enough unless you want to go for another round, but I assume you’re too tired from that,” Taehyung laughed softly, slowly pulling them out to which you whined from the loss. “Are you okay, did I go too far? You did so well.” “Y-yeah, I’m okay,” you mumbled but he still wasn’t completely convinced. His duality always kills you but you were here for it anyways. 

“No, I must’ve gone too far. At any moment, did you feel like you wanted to use the safe word? Remember that if-” “Taehyungie, you were okay! I’m okay and I didn’t want to use it. Besides, you were really hot dominating me like that,” you tried to assure him, rubbing his arms (which have gotten buffer) gently. “You took care of me well too.” “I’m glad to hear that! Hold on babe, I’m going to clean you up and get you some clothes.” He already left to go to the bathroom and during that, it gave you some time to think over your thoughts. Taehyung was truly a marvelous person: his looks were to die for, his personality was sweeter than honey but he can truly dominate someone the next second. You truly were thankful that he appeared in your life but a part of you didn’t understand why. 

He comes out dressed in his old vintage T-shirts and shorts with another oversized T-shirt and a damp towel in his hands. 

“Alright honey, can you lay down on your back for me? I must’ve made a mess.” “Dude, I literally squirted on not only you but the bed as well,” you dead-panned, causing him to laugh. He gently wiped the excess seed that laid on your inner thighs and the top of your private area before slipping a pair of your comfortable panties onto you. You quickly pulled on the shirt, the hem reaching the middle of your thighs and shyly gave him a hug (which was considerably rare for you to start them but with Taehyung, you would do it no matter what). He returned the hug back and laid you down on the bed with him cuddling you, being the big spoon within your relationship. 

You like how his bigger body can easily make you feel warm and you could hear the sound of his heartbeat, the soft feeling making you drowsy. 

“Do you want to sleep now, baby?” he rasps, rubbing the back of your neck and finding the particular spot where it was relieving for you. You nodded back in return as you turned over to face him, completely relishing his warm embrace. 

“Can I ask you something, Y/N? I hope you don’t feel uncomfortable,” he asked slowly, breaking the silence that lingered around the room. 

You nodded, slowly breaking out of his cuddle to face him with wide eyes. Although he didn’t want to break the hug either, he sat up to look at you as well. 

“Y/N, you know that I’m dating you and when I date someone, my attention is on them and because I’m with you, I only see you. My eyes will always be looking at you, I breathe and bathe in your presence daily, and I’ll even shout out to the world that I love you if you ever asked me. I’m completely yours honey and I’m curious on why do you get so jealous whenever a woman talks to me? It might sound insensitive but today you acted different when I talked to Irene. Why is that?” You let out a ragged sigh, unsure if you truly want to tell Taehyung. Of course you knew that Taehyung loved you until the end of time and you obviously feel the same way, but that was the problem. You would completely drop everything just to be with him forever but is it possible for a man like him to agree to that? Taehyung was an obvious romantic and if he had to choose between the world and you, he would choose you but why? Why were you so special that he’s dating you? There were plenty of other fish in the sea but his eyes were set on you. 

You were just another girl who’s trying to survive in the cutthroat fashion world, constantly thinking to yourself on how much of a disappointment you were. Being an idol was a dream you were dead-set on ever since you were a child but you were too chicken to go to an actual audition and spent the early stages of your adult life fighting with your mom to go on a fashion major: a second choice you didn’t really care for but it was a second choice nonetheless. 

Taehyung was a successful photographer with many deals and collaborations from multiple people, some even for famous magazines. His visuals were good enough to even be a Gucci model! He’s good with children and elderly people, he’s an amazing baker, he can play the saxophone, and he could even sing! He shouldn’t be dating some girl who acts like a little kid and has a personality that is absolutely intolerable to most people. 

“Taehyung, why are you dating me? If Irene asked you out on a date, would you go on it while you’re in a relationship with me?” “Of course not, I only have-” “But Irene’s ten times more gorgeous than me, it’s like comparing a swan to a baby duck! What kind of man would turn down a sexier woman for a toddler look alike?” you cried, your emotions showing out as you sobbed onto the comforter. He looked at you with sad eyes, rubbing your arms in an attempt to soothe you but your tears didn’t stop running. 

“Taehyung, you’re literally every girl’s dream boyfriend! Yet you chose me out of all of those girls who I can’t compare to! Why?! I’m literally nothing compared to them; all of my life I’ve been bullied by my stature, my dreams didn’t come true, everyone thinks I’m annoying, and it fucking hurts to hear gossip from the people in this town on why I’m dating you! I’m just not good enough and I’ll never be-” Your ranting was stopped by a kiss, a romantic and passionate one. You started to whimper inside his mouth as he didn’t break away. His lips were quickly detached from yours to kiss away the tears that were slowly dripping down your face. 

“Don’t say another word. I don’t understand why you don’t see yourself the same way I see you,” he said sternly, cupping your face gently. 

“Wh-what? I’m not-” “Never say you’re not something because you’re such a beautiful, smart, funny, creative, and witty person. I know it’s hard to not compare yourself to other women but out of all of them, I only see you. Even though you hate that you’re short and you look young, I promise you it’s one of the things I love the most about you. You’re so cute and it makes me so happy whenever I’m cuddling you and I love taking care of you. And it’s okay if your dreams didn’t come true, everything happens for a reason and if you were an idol, would you’ve met me?” “Not really-” “Exactly, it’s like fate did something and we were always meant to be with each other! Besides, I have some friends who are idols and they absolutely hate it.” “Wow, Taehyung, way to make me feel better,” you said sarcastically, a low chuckle vibrating against you. 

“Plus, I don’t find your personality annoying. It highlights you really well and I think it’s okay to have that kind of humor but if you act too bratty, I’m always there to punish you-” “God, you’re so perverted and this was supposed to be wholesome!” you barked, pushing him off while watching him with disgust as he tries to catch his breath from laughing too hard. 

“Sorry, sorry, the main point is that I love you no matter what and I’ll always think, dream, and bathe in you. You’re my girl and it’s always going to be that way,” he said, giving you another kiss before pulling you back down on the bed and cuddling you again. 

“Th-thank you Taehyung,” you said softly, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling yourself closer to his chest. It’s so warm and familiar, just the way you like it. You shift around until you’re more comfortable as you melt yourself into him. It was hard to not feel jealous of other girls but you felt better after talking it out and hearing his words. 

“I love you,” he mumbled softly, slowly starting to fall asleep. 

“I love you too.” You moved around for a bit but a sudden pain in your lower area stopped you from wiggling too much. Of course you forgot that you were getting railed a while ago and it’s now the aftermath. 

“Yo Taehyung, why the fuck did you go hard on me? Now it hurts and I don’t think I can walk normally. Hell, I don’t think I can sit down because you spanked me as well!” you snapped, the all too familiar tsundere personality coming out. 

He only had a smirk etched out on his face, pulling you close to stuff your face within his chest. “Sorry, I guess,” he replied sarcastically, chuckling on how you grumbled and complained in response. 

“What does that mean, ‘I guess’? It’s always the doms with the biggest dicks.”

Your ringtone blasted across the room, waking you up from your comfortable and warm sleep with Taehyung. You grumbled to yourself as you groggily stared at the caller ID. Sure enough, it was Irene. Your heart dropped to your stomach as there was no other reason why she was calling you unless to fire you for your behavior at the diner yesterday. 

“Hello?” you answer timidly, praying that you won’t get kicked out today. 

“Hello, Y/N. I hope you’re having a lovely morning today.” “You too. Listen Irene, I’m really sorry on how I acted during the diner that time. It was extremely immature of me to have that attitude and not listen to your side of the story, I guess jealousy got the better of me. I-I promise there won’t be any more instances like this and I’m sorry for causing such inconvenience,” you rambled, sweat dripping down your back as your fate was determined on the other line. 

Silence filled the room and you waited impatiently, tapping your fingers along the headboard of your bed. Suddenly, laughter rang out from Irene’s side and you sighed in a breath of relief that you’re off the hook. 

“It’s okay, I completely understand why you acted that way and I apologize if it may seem like I’m making moves on your boyfriend. Although I would like it if you listened to my side, I’m hoping he did at least.” You stared at his sleeping figure and softly rubbed his bread-like cheeks with affection. “Y-yeah, he did. So, what did you want to call me about?” “Oh, do you know the dress designs that you submitted to me a few months ago?” Your mind went back to you staying overnight at the studio, scrapping pages and pages of different designs to find the perfect one to turn in. Although you were extremely proud, at that time Irene didn’t spend a second to even look at them which lowered your spirits. 

“Yeah, what about them? Did I do something wrong?” “No, you didn’t. In fact they were really lovely and I’m sorry it took me a long time to review them. Actually, I really liked it so much that I turned it into some big name fashion companies and they are deciding to feature them in their latest runway for a fashion week.” Your eyes widened, shock filling your brain as you tried to comprehend what was going on. There was no way, the design that you spent hours perfecting was able to go on the runway?! You let out a high-pitched shriek, instantly waking up Taehyung as he slowly opened his eyes. 

“Oh my god, thank you thank you thank you! I-I can’t believe this is happening!” you squealed, your excitement radiating the room like sunshine on a bright morning. 

“You’re welcome honey, I hope you’re coming up with more designs to possibly submit in the future.” “Of course! Thank you so much, have a great day!” you grinned as the call ended. You started babbling to yourself while Taehyung watched you with admiration surrounding his face. 

“Congratulations baby,” he grinned, giving you a kiss on your lips. 

“Hey, how did you know?” “I heard you screaming ever since the phone rang.” “I mean, I guess you would’ve found out that way. Anyways I’m so excited and happy since this is such a huge opportunity for me! Also, thank you for the support and love you gave me last night,” you said, pecking his cheeks. 

“Anytime baby girl. How about I make some of those fluffy pancakes you like for celebration,” he smiled, walking out of the bed and into the brown slippers you got him for his birthday once. 

“Alright, I’ll be-” Unfortunately for you, your legs stopped working and you tumbled out of the bed. Taehyung only laughed at your fall before carrying you bridal style, much to your embarrassment. 

“Thanks a lot Tae, you really ruined me last night,” you pouted as you made yourself comfortable in his arms. 

“You know you love me right,” he cooed, flicking your cheeks which turned into an embarrassingly bright red. As much as you don’t show it that much, you’re definitely in love with him no matter what. 

Just as Taehyung was about to head off for his photoshoot consisting of a beauty model, he slipped his hand underneath his drawer and beneath the ties hides a velvet red box. And inside the box was a wedding ring that was passed onto from generations of his family. 

You have been dating him for a few years now and although you never admitted it, you were hoping that one day he’ll propose to you. 

Taehyung smiled at the box before closing the drawer to head out his way. There was a legend throughout the Kim family that the ring fits the person who's the perfect wife for the son. The ring was quite small which meant most girls couldn’t fit it but since you have small hands, he checked the size of your fingers and it fit perfectly. 

Many people would ask him why he would choose a short abrasive girl like you as his girlfriend and some may judge but frankly, he didn’t care about what everyone else thought. 

Because he was lucky that destiny allowed him to be with you and the person that he set his mind and future on was only you. 

a/n: this was initially a drabble but i liked the idea sm that i decided to write a whole ff on it lol. thanks for reading, i hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! <3

taglist: @cherrykocho​, @knjkitten​