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the-trinket-witch · 2 years ago

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Practically Perfect Ch. 11

(Ch 12|Ch 10|Ch 1)

(To note: I HC Mero/Mer language as basically Danish)

Albert announced his return with a heavy sigh. He was definitely glad to be home, albeit slightly surprised to see Jack still with Yuu and Grim. He quickly straightened up in an attempt at composure, and joined the three.

“You’re a bit late, Sophomore. Were you being held captive this whole time? Or were you schmoozing behind our backs?” Jack growled. “You missed the Headmaster. Apparently this has been an issue since last year. Guess it wasn’t so much an issue ‘til this year, but we know a few things. Yuu?"

>Headmaster says his hands are tied since he’s technically not doing anything wrong…

>Headmaster’s not able to do anything, so we gotta find our own way…

Albert pondered a moment as the other two filled him in on their previous conversation. Once filled in, he couldn’t help but smile slightly. Jack growled in response.

“What’s so funny? There’s no pity for cheaters, but you don’t look like the type to take actual satisfaction in their situation…”

“What? Oh no, it’s not Shadenfreude, I just find it a tad funny in the coincidence. I should have mentioned earlier-I’m late back because I have been able to secure a position where I can do some reconnaissance. I’ve been able to set up terms where I can get close to where I can find out more about both the place as well as the three running it. I’ve even set up terms in, well, the contract we agreed on that I can potentially get even closer to better break our friends’ contracts, if I can extract it…”

The three recoiled in surprise. Grim yowled in confusion, accounting for the anemone on his head. Yuu exchanged a worried glance between everyone landing back at Albert.

>Wait...Did you make a contract with…?

>So...you weren’t trying to go behind our backs and…?

Albert hung his head and instinctively dipped into a bow. “I’m sorry...I should have been more forthcoming; while it was very spur-of-the-moment, I normally wouldn’t explain anything. But I’ve not had a time where I’d be working with anyone else on such a mission. I should have said something, if only to keep you from worrying.”

Jack piped up as he rose from his seat. He let out a huff as he crossed his arms. Silence, then he sighed, “You had your reason to keep this a secret. Those twins seemed to be pretty far up our craw to get us outta there, it’d have probably been hard to get a foothold in there if they caught wind you were plannin’ something. If you got a plan, I can follow, just…Keep us in the loop here on out.”

The others nodded, as did Albert. The night progressed as the four made plans on how to combat Azul.

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The next morning took off without incident. Everyone understood that while class was in session, it would be opportune to find out more about Azul and his habits in a more natural environment. Albert kept notes, but his minimal interactions during class bore little fruit. Classes came and went, and before long, his first shift was about to start. He rushed to the Monstro lounge to meet his new ‘boss’. A couple of calming breaths helped ease any nerves before he approached.

“Ah, right on time, Albert. A good first impression starts with punctuality. So: let's get you acquainted with the menu before rush begins,” Azul said with arms outstretched in greeting. “Here’s the menu; for the moment I’ll have you’ll be taking over for Floyd in cooking tonight, but should you show your prowess I may have you moved over to Bartender. Here we have the kitchen, I’ll give you a bit to find everything and, when you’re ready, we can start receiving orders.”

Albert took a few minutes to peruse everything before looking up, “Permit me to grab an apron, and we can begin.” His smile gave a very neutral confidence as he aligned himself with the prep station.

“Neehhh~ I get all the more time puttin’ the squeeze on smallfries. Hope you understand: you’re gonna be the only one back here tonight, right?~ I also changed the menu for the season; this season feels like ‘finger foods’ to me,” Floyd piped in. The Twins’ bicolored eyes kept trained on him as he readied himself.

Jade quietly giggled, “The bravado is pretty commendable, but there is still time to back out and accept being over one’s head.”

“If those are final words of ‘encouragement’, then I’d say let’s begin,” Albert warned. His smile didn’t waver, and his eyes gave a red glint of deviousness.

Azul could only chuff in reply. “Floyd, Jade: Hold øje med dennes præstation. Han er snu.” The two nodded in agreement and slithered off to leave Albert to the empty kitchen. Al noticed the sudden change to the Mer language, and thankfully he understood enough that it was an order to keep an eye on his performance. Once the three were out of sight, he sprang to action in preparation.

The first order had come in from some poor anemone’d student. They stammered the order out; Albert gave a quick nod before setting to work. A quick dervish produced the dishes, announced by a call of, ‘Order Table 3: Out!’. The student to pick said dish up had dropped off another two. Albert asked the student to hold for a moment before producing the order. The student could only grab the order in shock, but with no time to question, retrieved it to serve to their table.

The evening progressed at a rather fast pace; every order took no more than 20 minutes to come out. Once about each hour, either Floyd, Jade or Azul would peek in to observe the goings-on inside the kitchen. Each check-in would be met with Albert calmly prepping each new order, finishing another or in the midst of plating others, all to a whistle of a tune only Al could hear.

"Oi, Jade, Hvor meget ville det koste for mig at bestille en Rum Punch til mig selv? How much would it cost for me to order a Rum Punch for myself? Thanks in advance~" Al stated in Mer.

Jade's eyes widened in surprise at the sudden question in his primary tongue. "Hmm, it'll be 12 thaumarks, and that's certainly interesting you know Mer. When did you come to learn that?"

"Primary-thought it was the most 'economic' decision with how many Mer live where I grew up," Albert replied, his concentration not wavering.

Floyd, over the course of the night, began to refer to Albert as ‘Swordfishie’. His reasoning?

“I dunno, he’s fast like one.”

Azul tended to the bar, after Jade, being as personable as possible. Something he hadn’t heard in a short while was about the quality of the service. Most who approached for a drink had something to say if they’d placed an order of food. Each testimony only further surprised him, as many also called for additional drinks. He’d anticipated an uptick in complaints about discrepancies in said orders, but as the night stretched on with a surprising lack of complaints versus compliments, Azul took notice, but decided to let it play out on the off chance it was a first-day fluke.

9:00PM rolled around and the last customers had finished and been escorted out. Outside of the ambient band tracks, the only thing left to provide noise was the clattering of metal ware and general cleanup. Jade and Azul silently agreed to get a peek at the new employee. Both peeked through the order window to watch Albert drain the sink, signaling the end of dish washing. The two exchanged a curious glance before ambushing him.

“A rather unexpected evening, wouldn’t you say, Jade?” Azul asked.

“Agreed-quite the turnover tonight, for a Monday,” Jade replied.

“You must have broke quite the sweat for your first day, neh, Sworfishie?” Floyd crooned.

Albert paid no mind to the stares as he finished sorting prep for tomorrow in the fridge. “Ah, yes, quite the sweat. The best quality pieces of kitchenware, though, are those forged in fire, wouldn’t you say?”

“Fufu, indeed. I do have to commend you surviving your first night. Though, it's yet to be seen whether this was a lucky fluke, so until tomorrow, allow us to accompany you once you’ve finished for tonight.”

“Of course, if you might afford me one moment, then,” Albert called back. At that, he whipped his phone out and snapped some photos of each of the now clean stations, fridge, supplies and overall status of the kitchen. “Call me forgetful, call me paranoid, but I like having physical evidence my work is complete as well as setting a standard for what I’d like to achieve for the end of a night.”

This time both Azul and Jade took either of Albert’s side as they escorted him to the exit. “You’ve started your week on quite the high note,” Azul started. “Hope the rush didn’t give you too much trouble.”

“It’s actually quite impressive. You’ve hit the ground running, it seems. Pray you don’t lose your steam so soon in the week,” Jade purred. “Though it doesn’t seem like it would be so bad if you weren’t able to fulfill that contract.”

They led him to the entry to the Hall of Mirrors without much more words. They bid him the rest of the night, releasing him out to the empty campus. Both hung their heads to keep their words from reaching earshot.

“His skill was...impressive,” Azul whispered through gritted teeth. “Feel free to not make it easy for him this week. I’m curious as to what he’ll bring to the table once he’s mine.”

“Understood, Sir. Might I say it was something, having to hold Floyd back from having some ‘fun’. He’s going to be glad to not be gnawing at the bit tomorrow,” Jade hissed. “Unfortunately we can’t make it too obvious; after all, he's apparently bilingual, and those photographs he took were probably his insurance that he had cleaned; it’s almost like he doesn’t trust us~”

“Indeed...Most students don’t have the foresight to document their work like this...What does he gain with such a contract? On surface level I only stand to gain, either he works for me for the week, or he ends up working for me, still…”

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The next couple of days progressed without much incident as the three had gathered intel on as many fronts as able. On the outside, Jack and Yuu scoped out Azul’s patterns and habits. Inside, Albert found as many opportunities as possible to scout the area for anything of note. He’d found the VIP room being a sort of ‘safe haven’ for those contracts, that the vault had two different forms of security, and that He could only sense magic around the vault, not within.

Before the end of the third night, Floyd snuck around the kitchen after closing, only to discover Albert in the freezer, cross-legged and breathing incredibly ragged. Sweat froze on his skin, but slowly his moment of quiet seemed to help him regain his composure.

“Swordfishie~ Lookin’ a lil worn out-you’re sputterin’ like a choked out boat motor. Thinkin’ about callin’ it quits yet?” His smile would have conveyed hopefulness if it hadn’t been overshadowed by hunger.

Albert chuffed, “Certainly not, this is some simple after-shift meditation. Though, my resignation would be preferred, wouldn’t it? But, I would really like that business reference.”

“Ahh, but if ya can’t make it, what happens then? What’dya offer Azul for all this?”

“That’s for Azul and I to know, and for our contract to keep confidential,” Albert finished as he collected himself and pushed past the eel with a chuckle. “Until tomorrow, friend.”

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By the end of Thursday's shift, he felt he had gathered quite a bit of information. He had thumbed through his phone with the information he’d gathered, not paying attention, which led to him bumping into someone.

“Oh, sorry about that, I really need to…” he started, before getting a cleaner look at who he’d collided with. “My apologies...Floyd, was it? I hope I didn’t disturb any of your wardrobe.”

“Neeehhh, Ya gotta watch where you’re walkin’, Swordfishie~ Where’re ya headed, this time of night?” Floyd replied.

Jade crept up behind, boxing Albert in, “It is quite late, Albert, maybe it would be safer if we...escorted you back to your dorm?”

“That’s quite all right, gentlemen, I’ve made this trek quite a few times now…” their closeness offered only a chill down his back.

“Nahh~ We insist; coworkers help each other out, ne~?”

At that the two sprang to action; Floyd locked Albert in his arms, raising him off the ground. He made attempts at kicking, but Floyd’s strength allowed him to turn him around, to face the other twin. He flailed with all his strength but the hold he was in didn’t afford much.

“Gotcha-Hook, line, and sinker” Floyd hissed, “Gonna be pretty bad look to know you won’t be able to make it to work, tomorrow.”

Jade approached with a knowing grin, “Of course, before that, we thought it time to ask you a couple of questions…” He saddled close to the struggling target and attempted to grab at his jaw.

Albert continued struggling against his captor, but slowed pace to catch a breath. “Really? Well I think it's actually time...To Step. In. TIME!”

At his word, Time seemed to all but stop. Both of his captors now frozen in place, he wriggled his way free, and took a moment to regain some breath. Albert quickly snatched his umbrella from where it landed between the twins. He stuck the pommel next to Jade's ankle and pulled. Another snap to pause the moment, he positioned himself behind Floyd who in that instance reeled back at the sight. Albert gave a quick jab and knocked Floyd’s knees from under him. With him on his back, Albert reeled back to land a chop into his gut, forcing the wind from his lungs. Jade staggered back to regain his footing, and made an attempt at lunging for Al. Another snap paused him mid-step, with Albert taking the chance to position himself even closer. Time resumed for Jade to which his pounce was met with the end of the umbrella, effectively stopping his charge and landing him as well on his back, out of breath.

To the naked eye, it would have seemed that either Albert was blinking in and out of existence to subdue the twins, or was just beyond the speed the eyes could match as he poked and swung at the two into submission. Both lie prone, groaning and attempting to catch their breath. He took the moment to immediately book it outside, having spent the last of his available time. A minute or so of running brought him to one of the hallways looking down towards the courtyard. He thought he’d lost them, but glancing back then forward, he’d spotted the twins somehow still in hot pursuit. One had stayed behind while the other closed off another exit, boxing him in the hallway. He didn’t have any more time to hold as the two closed in. There was one last option. He made a running dive off the banister overlooking the quad and flung his umbrella open. The wind caught him with only a few inches before Floyd or Jade could. His heart pounded in his ears as he floated back to his dorm.

His landing would be better described as a crash; the impact startled Yuu and Grim, but Jack was the one to investigate. He’d found Albert leant up against the door. Seeing Jack, he sighed in relief. He clawed his way back upright, and eventually to the sofa.

“What the hell happened? They jump you? Those couple’ve snakes,” Jack growled. “Of course they’d try to sabotage you. You made it back in one piece at least...Damn.”

“They tried, yes, but this,” Al motioned towards himself in the state he was in, “Was more me overexerting. I’ve never had to use my magic this often back to back, and I should say I’m becoming more accustomed to longer stretches of time I can warp, but I’ll admit it’s...tiring.”

“If you keep at it like this, at this rate you might be the next one to overblot,” Jack warned. “Grrr, we’re really between a rock and a hard place, but all we have is info, but no plan.”

>We’re not getting anywhere real fast…

>What else can we do?

“Remember: he has a vault in his office. He has his contracts filed away there. There aren’t any wards or traps around the room, that I could find, but I haven’t had an opportunity to test the vault for the same. Luck would find it isn’t protected outside of the combination and key. I have a few guesses on the combination, but how many opportunities one would have to try, I can’t find yet…” Albert divulged.

Grim piped up, “Nyaaah!! We ain’t got time for this! I’m tired of being used like a dishrag. Everybody’s getting worked to the bone there! I say we go for it tomorrow! You’ll help us out, right, Al?”

“I’m honestly in a rather tight spot-with tomorrow being the last day I’m bound by contract, I can’t afford to breach it now, but once finished I would be more than willing to assist, provided I’m not requested to sign as a trial-run personal assistant afterwards…”

“Awe c’mon! You got us this far, ya can’t do both?”

>I think we’ve been spinning our wheels for quite a while already-maybe this is our chance?

>I can understand wanting to keep covert. If you don’t think you’d be able to help then don’t put your freedom on the line…

“Maybe you shouldn’t have signed with him in the first place,” Jack muttered, “We’ve got quite a lotta info thanks to you, but, this doesn’t leave you too many options. Maybe you might’ve backed yourself into a corner on this one…”

Albert would never admit, but at this point there weren’t a lot of options left. One thing he hated was the idea of losing grip on the situation. It made the room feel tight around him. He sighed, and stood.

“If I couldn’t handle more than one obligation without letting one fall to the wayside, then what kind of personal assistant could I possibly hope to be? My advice: attempt this heist early in the morning while classes are still in session. That would be the best time to ensure there’s no one to distract.”

#practically perfect fanfic #twst oc #albert eastwind #twst fanfic #my writing

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littlemissjrgd · 2 years ago

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11/15/2022: November Forever

Thank you for all for taking the time and remembering me on my special day, your greetings are one of the things that I look forward to every time my Birthday comes around. They are e truly the reason why I do not feel too bad about getting old.

The day after my Birthday will always be my 2nd favorite day because it is the time when I normally allot a time to reflect on the year in my life that has gone by.

This year is all about consistency, it is about making sure that I maintain the work that I am doing in life, love, health, and career so I do not fall behind. I am not going to lie; it has not been easy to be on top of everything. It gets exhausting at times but at the end of the day I am happy because all the work that I put in paid off.

Speaking of paid off, this year I have achieved a lot of things, though to others it might not seem like it to me it is. As they say to each their own. This year, I got a promotion. I am now a Senior Quality Tester. I do not know why but I never saw myself being called a Senior after just working for a company for three years. Also, to those who know me I am pretty sure you know that I find it hard to keep a job for longer than two years because I get tired easily. I wanted to have a job that would keep me busy and keep my brain stimulated so that I do not lose interest. Unfortunately, not all companies can give that satisfaction to their employees and I feel blessed that the company that I work for can give just that and more.

I also found myself being out there, I have been giving talks here and there, sharing my experiences and hoping that I inspire at least one soul to not give up and move forward no matter how many challenges comes along their way. I also joined a recreation team at work which to those who knew me will agree that it is very unlikely of me since I am partially introvert.

I also celebrated 1 year of being in regular therapy. I still have ADHD, anxiety, and occasional depression, but I find that it is more manageable now. My therapist and I had a talk recently that we will have to make changes on how many times we meet in a week because she believes that I have grown and that I am ready to go on without her.

Lastly, I received my 10-year green card, and I am planning to kickstart 2023 by working on my US Citizenship application.

This is probably the year that I felt that I am the most grown up because I was able to keep my job. I showed up and contributed to my therapy sessions and I did not feel afraid to ask for help when I know I needed it, but most of all because I was able to implement setting boundaries. I used to feel guilty when I say no to people whether they are co-workers, friends, or family but now I do not feel that way anymore, instead I learned that it is okay, it is not the end of the world and that I should not be so hard on myself because at the end of the day I only have me.

As of writing this, I believe that I am in a good place physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually and I think that I just have to work on keeping it this way because if I put in the work, the rest will follow.

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jaimiewillgoplaces · 2 years ago

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Newport Beach, California

The day after my Birthday will always be my 2nd favorite day because it is the time when I normally allot a time to reflect on the year in my life that has gone by.

Lastly, I received my 10-year green card, and I am planning to kickstart 2023 by working on my US Citizenship application.

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badboyjuyeon · 4 years ago

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mind reader

Pairing: Chanhee x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: “One day in class you decide to scream something in your head to catch mind readers. As you do you see your crush flinch.”

prompt credits to writing.prompt.s

Eyes glued to the clock, you counted down the seconds before class would start.

It’s not that you particularly enjoyed English or any of the books you were discussing. Your teacher constantly droned on and on and, with practice, you had finally mastered the art of tuning his voice out.

So it wasn’t exactly the class that you looked forward to, but a special person within that class.

And that person was Choi Chanhee, who had just entered with his bag slung lazily across his shoulder. Though his hair was ruffled and he was sweaty from gym class, he still looked as radiant as ever. He flashed his signature smile, the one that melted your heart, and waved at Changmin who had saved a seat for him.

Pretty people “herd” together, so it’s not a surprise that he often hung out with Younghoon, Sunwoo, and Changmin, the other popular boys that stole the hearts of every person in the school, including yours. You accepted that this crush would not go far because of his popularity, and you were perfectly content with just enjoying his presence.

Before seeing him fifth-period four days of the week, you had only ever seen him in the hallways. You never had any real reason to talk to him, and given the chance, you’re not sure you would even try to hold a conversation with him. You know you would just become a stuttering mess and embarrass yourself. So instead of making any real efforts to do something about your crush, you just made sure to come to class a few minutes early so you could secure the seat that gave you the best view of him.

Your English class was currently doing student-led discussions and your teacher claimed arranging the seats in a circle would help the students interact more with each other. You hated student discussions but had no complaints sitting in a circle, as it allowed you the perfect excuse to steal glances at Chanhee from any angle.

Currently seated within the circle that seemed more like an oval, all of the students tried their hardest not to unintentionally make eye contact with the person sitting across from them. Your teacher introduced the topic the class would be discussing and you doodled at the corner of your page, letting your hand move on its own accord. Your doodles often reflected whatever you were thinking of, so your page was filled with drawings of the pink-haired boy you were currently infatuated with.

The person sitting next to you spoke up, reminding you that you were still in class and needed to contribute to the discussion.

You spoke once to satisfy the participation requirements and tried to ignore the feeling of everyone’s eyes on you. That feeling was 10 times worse knowing that Chanhee was one of the people that was looking straight at you. You avoided looking in his direction, knowing that you would completely freeze up at the mere thought of him. His eyes were finally off of you when you finished speaking, but that didn’t stop your heart from racing. It would take another five minutes before your heart would return to its normal pace.

Having participated, you were now free to be alone with your thoughts.

Running out of creativity to doodle, you decided that you would play a game with yourself to pass the time. This game never failed to amuse you during all of the boring classes you’ve taken. You scanned the room to see what some of your peers were doing. Younghoon was currently speaking, Chanhee was dozing off into space, the girl from your biology class was very clearly trying to flirt with Sunwoo, who was ignoring her.

You decided that Sunwoo would be the first person you tested. This game consisted of you trying to find out if anyone in the room could read your mind.

Sunwoo if you can hear me, write down something in your notebook.

You took notice of Sunwoo’s immediate actions, which would prove if he could listen to your thoughts.

He picked up his pen.

Your eyes widened as you waited to see what he would do next.

He started fiddling with the pen mid-air, and it never ended up touching the paper.

Sunwoo was not in fact a mind reader. You moved on to your next test subject.

You shifted your undivided attention towards Younghoon, who had just finished speaking. He was staring at his notebook, the corner of the page curling underneath his fingers.

If you can hear my thoughts, look at me within the next three seconds.

You counted down and waited to see if he would prove himself to be a mind reader. Younghoon raised his head and his eyes scanned the circle.

You sat up in your chair as you waited to see if he had heard you.

Unfortunately, his eyes did not land on you as he chose to focus on the classmate that was currently speaking.

You slumped back down into your chair. This game was not as fun as it used to be. Either no one was a mind reader or they were too good at pretending not to hear you.

I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME AND I’LL CATCH YOU.

You screamed in your thoughts, looking around to see if anyone noticed.

Chanhee, who was still staring into space, suddenly flinched.

What the f-

And then Chanhee’s eyes met yours.

You immediately shifted your gaze to focus on the notebook on your lap. He never looked at you if you weren’t speaking, the timing was all too suspicious. You made sure not to look up from your notebook for the rest of class or think about him, just in case.

After the teacher dismissed the class, you hurriedly packed up your belongings and rushed out of class. But your shoelaces did not cooperate, and you knelt down to tie them. You heard a soft voice call your name from behind you. A voice that you knew all too well.

Why was Chanhee trying to talk to you, today of all days?

There was only one answer. Chanhee was actually a mind reader and he knew about your crush. He was coming to confront you. You quickly shoved your shoelaces in your shoe and ran out the school building, not looking back.

Chanhee watched as you dashed out the school doors, the notebook that had fallen out of your backpack in his hands. He was sure he called your name loud enough but he reasoned that you probably hadn’t heard him with how hectic the hallway was. He placed your notebook in his locker and reminded himself to give it to you before the next class.

You slammed your locker shut, startling the student next to you. You lost your notebook for English class that you’ve reused since freshman year. Sighing, you headed into English class with a substitute notebook and the motive to pay attention, since you didn’t have any of your notes. You searched for the one person that could instantly lift your spirits.

“Chanhee?” Your teacher called out during attendance, waiting for his response.

You quickly glanced around the room to see where Chanhee was seated, but to your dismay, he was nowhere to be found.

On the bright side, you could think about Chanhee all you wanted without worrying about whether he could hear your thoughts. You breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back in your chair.

“Present.”

Hearing the familiar voice, you looked up to see Chanhee standing in the doorway, out of breath, as he rushed towards his seat. You dared not to make eye contact with him again.

You wondered why he stopped to call your name after the last time you had class. There was a chance that he wasn’t actually calling your name and that you might have just imagined it.

But you were quick to dismiss the theory that it was all in your imagination when Chanhee called out to you again after class. The hallway was rather empty and you couldn’t use the chaos as an excuse to avoid him. You nervously turned around to face him. This was technically the first time you spoke to him.

“Hi, (y,n) right? Is this your notebook?” He held out a notebook that looked a little too similar to your missing English notebook. “I think you dropped it after class yesterday.”

You took the notebook from him and sure enough, it was yours. Finding your lost notebook should have filled you with satisfaction, but that was the last thing you were feeling. The doodles of him scattered throughout the pages flashed in your mind. You immediately snapped the notebook shut.

“Thank you so much.” You managed to say, hoping that he hadn’t flipped through the notebook.

He gave you a small smile, unaware of your internal panic. “No problem.”

Not knowing whether to continue the conversation or not, you also smiled, before turning to walk away.

“Oh, and by the way, I know what you’re thinking...”

What- there’s no way. How would he know what I was thinking? Oh my god. Is he an actual mind re-

You stopped in your tracks, grateful that you were turned around so he couldn’t see the sheer look of horror on your face.

You faced him and prepared yourself for what he would say next.

“...You’re probably wondering how I knew it was your notebook.” He looked down at your notebook, which you held protectively against your chest.

Not expecting the words that came out of his mouth, you giggled. The question hadn’t actually crossed your mind, so it was good to know that he was NOT an actual mind reader. Your name was not on the cover, so it was a valid question to wonder.

“I wasn’t wondering but, now that you mention it, how did you know?“

“I recognized your art style from the doodles on the cover. You’re really talented.” He continued to speak comfortably as if you had known each other for years. Your art teacher often hung up your drawings in the art classroom for everyone to see, but you were surprised that he had recognized your art style.

“Thanks, that means a lot to me.” You finally found the courage to hold eye contact with him. You were confused as to why he kept continuing this conversation when it could have ended much earlier with little-to-no words involved.

The corner of his lips lifted into a smirk and a mischievous spark glinted in his eyes. He cleared his throat, “I like my eggs scrambled in the morning...if you were still wondering.”

Eggs scrambled in the morning?

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion as you tried to remember why that expression sounded so familiar. Or why he claimed you would be wondering that.

Chanhee bit back a smile, as he saw your expression change from confused to panicked in a matter of seconds. Your cheeks turned as pink as his hair.

You were just joking when you claimed that Chanhee was a mind reader, but now you were starting to think that it wasn’t a joke anymore. How do you like your eggs in the morning? That sounds exactly like something you would think.

“What...how did you...“ You struggled to form a coherent sentence.

Instead of answering, he just shrugged and backed away, before heading to his next class. He left you standing in the middle of the hallway unsure of what to believe.

Remembering the notebook that was still pressed against your chest, suddenly it clicked. He had seen the last page of your notebook.

The last page was where you wrote absolute nonsense to relieve your boredom during class. You used to write notes back and forth with your best friend back in freshman year. She would talk about her crush on Changmin and you would talk about yours on Chanhee.

That means he read all about your crush on him. Of all the ways you imagined him finding out, this was the last and most embarrassing way ever. There was no way to save yourself in this situation.

chanhee is so gorgeous

changmin is SO FINE

i wonder how chanhee likes his eggs in the morning

i want changmin’s number so bad

You cursed your younger, boy-obsessed self for setting you up like this. You groaned, any chance you had with Chanhee was officially out the window.

Rereading the page, you noticed that there was a new addition to your conversation with your friend. The unfamiliar handwriting did not match yours or your best friend’s, and the ink seemed to be fresh.

idk about changmin’s but i can give you mine: XXX-XXX-XXXX

p.s. i want you to draw me like one of your french girls

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shotorozu · 4 years ago

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TITLE : CARTOON KISSES

pairing : todoroki shouto x reader

synopsis : it looks like your boyfriend doesn’t understand why you like miraculous ladybug, but i guess you could say that he was more jealous, than confused. thus— why he did that

legend : [Y/N = your name, L/N = your name] afab! reader with they/them pronouns, quirk not specific

note(s) : self indulgent because yeah, my birthday‼️‼️ yes i’m an aries. the episode i’m referencing in this fic is backwarder— season 3, episode 4, and dark cupid, season 1, episode 10

this is a birthday fic for me 💅🤍✨‼️

Lately, everything has been hectic— on both sides anyway.

Was it really your fault? Or was it his fault? In fact, it wasn’t either of yours faults. UA was just very meticulous about what the students should be doing when and how.

Then again, it wasn’t like you never saw your boyfriend— Todoroki Shouto; the boy with dual colored hair that could easily blend in with the peppermint candy isle. That’s not the point though, you do actually see him

The only time you get to actually spend some time with him, is when the two of you are in each other’s rooms. Either enveloped in each others arms, or really— doing the most random things, at the most random times.

Or the other possible outcome, watching shows together. Which would rather be right about now.

Shouto lays right beside you, his right arm draped around your shoulder to keep you in his firm hold. Meanwhile, you’re cuddled up right on his side, occasionally pressing your face into his shirt because why not?

“For crying out loud! can’t they just date each other already?!” You exclaim in absolute agony, watching the two main protagonists— Ladybug and Chat Noir, be playful with each other mid-battle.

Shouto’s gaze averts down onto you, and in reality— he doesn’t look all that invested, compared to you, who’s making commentary everytime something drastic happens in the episode. If he wasn’t, you couldn’t really blame him. He only just started watching this show with you merely a few days ago (really, it has only been 2 days.)

“Aren’t they like.. the same people?” He’s puzzled. The masks hide nothing! Even he could piece together that the two heroes could be linked to their civilian selves— most especially, Marinette. Since her persona doesn’t really have a drastic change her appearance, in comparison to her partner.

“Yes, that’s what makes this entire show so.. interesting! They’re so.. oblivious! And this has been dragging on for several years!”

Shouto’s confused, in all honesty. Really, what even is the love square? can’t they just say who they are? he’d guess that the mechanics are different, compared to the real world— where people already know who you are (excluding special cases)

He has so many questions, and his train of thought is put to an end, when he hears a high pitched squeal—

“DID YOU JUST SEE THAT?” You practically squirm in his hold, thrashing back and forth as you replay the scene of Chat Noir kissing Ladybug’s hand, as he bids farewell to her.

“He.. kissed her hand?”

“Yes!” You replay the scene, and you thrash around in your spot on the bed, practically fawning over the simple gesture. His expression falters when he sees you slip out of his grasp, and he can only gently pull you back in

When you kiss his cheek goodbye, as you part ways with him, he’s left sitting in silence. He doesn’t know what to think

I mean, it really could be a stretch of a situation. Why else would you be squealing watching such simple acts of romance— and it all seems too easy. Maybe you like guys similar to Chat Noir? who are natural romantics, and people that are just oozing of confidence? Maybe you love hand kisses? (It’s not like he doesn’t give you them, but.. out in public? not really.)

Or maybe.. there’s something else.

And maybe you like being called M’lady, and names similar to that? he doesn’t really know.

Which is why, he decides to binge at least half of the show, and understand the lore of “Miraculous | Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir”

»»————-　♡　————-««

You’re puzzled when Shouto starts acting differently

I mean, it could be a dare for all you know— but he doesn’t seem like the type to drag out a dare for 5 days. He wouldn’t be that committed to a.. what would you call this?

It’s.. just different. He’s acting differently, and you could just hope it’s a prank, or even a drawn out consequence of a bet he manage to lose— it would be nice to know about the sudden change of attitude.

He says nothing the next time you guys have another miraculous marathon, nothing out of the ordinary! however, the youngest Todoroki seems to be wanting to do.. something.

As per usual, you’re seated next to him, a change compared to the usual times where you’re slumped against his side, which really— bugged your boyfriend.

Your eyes stayed glued onto the screen, as you attentively watched Chat Noir pull Ladybug down from a dangling roof, chest to chest, shushing her, as if he wanted to tell her all of the things that were on his mind at that exact moment

“It’s happening, it’s happening!” You squeal, as if it wasn’t the 10th time you played said scene— and by the looks of it, you’re a ‘ladynoir’ fan.

You can’t see it, but his two toned eyes narrow down into slits— and he grumbles, knowing that he probably should just.. do it. There’s not stopping it now, he’d take the chance.

When the moment nearly happened, you body made an impulse— and simply moved on it’s on, without much thought.

You wouldn’t have noticed it, due to the awfully large (to an outsider, it wasn’t a large distance, but to him, it was.) distance— but you’re awfully aware of the warm hand trailing down your forearm, your body immediately relaxes when he tugs on your arm with care, peppering kisses along your forearm, and going down to the backside of your hand.

“W-what are you doing?!” You exclaim in surprise, your cheeks heating up like a fresh batch of toast coming out of the toaster. Yet, your hot-cold boyfriend says nothing, and continues to plant kisses onto your skin with no hesitation.

Then, he makes a point to trail back higher and higher, every time his lips press against your skin, you only grow closer to the brink of overheating.

“I figured you’d be interested in such a gesture,” He mutters against the crook of your neck, not caring at all if the kiss he just pressed against your delicate skin, was rather damp at all.

You’re still stunned, you’d question whoever wouldn’t! A second ago, you were just watching cartoons and.. he was—

“I thought it would be nice to.. replicate them.” His gaze shifts onto the screen, referring to the cartoon, of course.

He.. was copying the show?

“You mean by.. flustering me like how Chat Noir flusters Ladybug?”

“You said it, not me.” Which only confirmed your previous theories and questions. You don’t know why and how you didn’t see this all before— but it does make sense now.

You fall forward, bursting into laughter. The effect of his actions seem to be the opposite of what he was hoping for

“I’m sorry, did I..”

“No! You actually got me, don’t get me wrong. You absolutely wooed me!” You poke at his cheek, in a poor attempt in brightening up the hush mood.

“In all seriousness, you don’t need to copy whatever Chat Noir does! Do what feels natural to you, and as much as I really liked that kiss, I prefer.. your signature style of kisses.” Shouto didn’t get the chance to question what you meant at that moment— it being all too quick, since you lifted his arm to rest against his side, your gaze suddenly apologetic “I’m sorry if you felt like you were doing things wrong. No character from a TV show can rival you!”

The knot that he didn’t even know existed, slowly eased away from the pit of his stomach. He smiles, content with your words— he didn’t know how you did it, how you knew the way to his heart with your words but.. he’s happy

“But it did work though, right? I did make you flustered.”

Yeah, Shouto is back to normal, when his terribly blunt questions come back.

And yeah, Chat Noir might be charismatic and swave, but at the end of the day— anything Shouto does fills you with satisfaction, up until the brim.

If it would be cartoon kisses, or his signature style of affection.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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howtosingit · 3 years ago

Text

Fic: The Nightmare That I Call Myself

His t-shirt is sweat-soaked and twisted around him, refusing to allow his chest to fully expand the way he desperately needs it to. He tears away at it, trying to get it off, and a sob climbs up his throat and out of his mouth when it starts to feel hopeless. Finally, after an hour or a day or maybe even a year, it comes off. TK throws it across the room with a yell before he wraps his arms around himself, his fingernails digging into his sides.

He just wants to feel something.

But that’s not really his problem right now. He’s feeling too much, all at once. It’s a stark contrast from the nightmare that he found himself trapped in moments ago; a nightmare where he felt absolutely nothing. Because he was absolutely nothing.

Because he was dead.

Or, five times TK wakes up disoriented and confused, and one time he wakes up knowing he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.

Mature | 5.1K | Also on AO3

A/N: Haven’t written a word in two months, got this idea when I woke up this morning and now here we are, 10 hours later. The muse does what the muse wants. Hope you like it!

------

Someone’s screaming.

TK’s eyes fly open, the red and blue lights from his lamp in the corner adding to the confusion that he’s currently feeling. It feels like there’s an elephant sitting on his chest, and when he closes his eyes again to try to make it all disappear, all he sees is smoke and dust and collapsing buildings on fire.

It’s the same thing he’s been seeing on TV for the past few days, even though his mom changes the channel as quickly as possible whenever he’s in the room.

“TK!”

His eyes open again, finally focusing on his mom as rushes into his bedroom, the sudden lights causing him to blink against their harsh brightness. Before he knows it, there are arms wrapped around him, firm hands on his back, and a soft voice in his ear.

“It’s okay, buddy, it’s okay. You’re okay, it’s gonna be okay.”

That’s when he finally realizes that the screams are coming from his own mouth.

He stops instantly, his throat raw, but he can’t quiet the sob rising in his chest. He buries his face in his mom’s shirt, pressing against her, kind of hoping that he can disappear into her, where he knows he’ll be safe.

He closes his eyes again, and a new image appears behind his eyelids:

His dad. Covered in dirt and dust and blood, his firefighter’s helmet falling from his head, his eyes dark and empty and so different from their normal blue.

“Dad,” he croaks, his voice weak and full of pain. His heart hammers in his chest, thud thud thud. “Mommy, where’s Daddy?”

“Oh, honey, he’s okay,” his mom says, her fingers running through his hair and scratching his scalp gently, a shiver running through him. It helps to pull him out of his head, the fear disappearing at her touch. “He’s just in the other room, he’s okay.”

“Can I go see him?” he cries, the words getting lost in another sob. She understands him, though, like she always does. She’s his mom, so she always understands him.

“Of course, sweetie,” she says, holding him closer. “Let’s calm down a little bit though, before we go see him. We don’t want to scare him, do we?”

TK shakes his head, following along as she shows him how to breathe deeper. He can still feel his heart pounding in his chest, but it doesn’t feel as heavy now. The elephant has been replaced by something smaller. A gorilla, maybe, or something like that. He gets so distracted thinking about all the different animals that he’s seen at the zoo, that he almost doesn’t notice when a different pair of arms find their way around him.

He does recognize the smell, though. His dad’s soap has a really special smell.

“Daddy,” he cries, more tears finding their way to his eyes as he pulls his head back to see those familiar blue ones. They aren’t as bright as they were before, but they’re more alive than they were in his nightmare. His dad gives him a small smile, pulling him into his arms and against his chest.

“I got you, buddy. I got you. I’m right here.”

He focuses on the sound of his dad’s heartbeat, hears the way the soft words rumble through his chest. His mom is still there, too, her own fingers crawling up and down his back.

Eventually, they all lay back down, his body tucked between the two of them. He reaches out, grabbing on to each of them, pulling them even closer.

He hears them whispering above him, but their voices sound like they’re at the far end of the big, long tunnel, so he doesn’t really know what they’re saying. He watches the lights from his lamp slowly dance across his ceiling, watches as they catch on the corner of the twin-sized firetruck bed that surrounds them on all sides.

The next morning when he wakes up, he tells his dad that he wants to change his room. There’s a sad look in his eyes, but he just gives him a hug and helps him pack some things away.

-----

Someone’s knocking on the door.

TK lets out a groan, his stomach rolling. Even through his eyelids, he can see that the sun is up and pouring in through his bedroom windows, his mother’s sheer curtains doing little to keep the daylight at bay. The air around him is stale, sweaty, and smells like sex and weed. He scrunches his face, trying to stave off the nausea.

The knocking gets louder, and that’s when he realizes that it’s not at his bedroom door, but further away. Probably on his mom’s front door. Fuck. He’s going to have to get up and answer it before the neighbors complain. He really doesn’t want to have to deal with his mother when she gets home.

He throws the thin sheet off of himself, the blast of cool air making him aware of his nakedness. The back of his hand comes in contact with something solid to his left and he opens one eye to see tanned skin covered in various back tattoos under a head of shoulder-length dirty blonde hair. His gaze moves lower to take in the bare ass resting on top of his mother’s 800-thread count sheets, the outline of a handprint barely visible on one cheek. With a disgusted scoff, he pushes himself up to sit at the edge of his bed, the stranger now behind him and out of sight.

He instantly realizes his mistake as his stomach somersaults and he barely has time to notice the empty vodka bottle on his nightstand next to a little bag of white pills before he empties it onto his rug-covered floor.

He’s stumbling naked down the hallway towards the bathroom to stand under the water for the next hour or so when his brain refocuses on the knocking on the door. Now that he’s out of his room, he can hear his phone vibrating incessantly from the pocket of his jeans where they lay on the floor by the couch. He can now also hear a familiar voice yelling through the door to accompany the knocking.

“TK! I know you’re in there, I tracked your phone,” his dad yells, his knocking turning into an intense pounding. “Open the damn door!”

With a “Calm the fuck down, Dad,” TK stomps towards the door, throwing it open. He can’t help the satisfaction that crawls through him at his dad’s shocked face as he takes him in. TK doesn’t know why he’s so surprised; it’s not like this beats the time his dad accidentally walked in on him having sex with his high school boyfriend a few years ago.

“Jesus Christ, TK,” his dad huffs, pushing him back into the apartment and slamming the door behind him, obviously trying to maintain some sense of privacy. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

TK doesn’t reply, just stands before him with his eyebrows raised and his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Well? You gonna say something?”

“What are you doing here, Dad?” TK scoffs, rolling his eyes. He immediately regrets it, as the action causes a sharp pain to flare up behind his eyes. Remembering his previous goal of drowning himself in the shower, he turns to walk back down the hallway. “Mom’s out of town, you don’t have to pretend like you give a fuck about me. There’s no one around to impress.”

“Yeah, I know your mom’s out of town, that’s why I’m here,” his dad says, and TK can tell from the consistent volume of his voice that he’s following him towards the bathroom. “You obviously can’t be trusted by yourself for more than a day.”

“Oh, fuck off,” TK yells, rounding on him. “I’m right here, aren’t I? It’s not like I’ve gone missing and you’ve found me dead in an alley or something.”

His dad glares at him for a moment. Then, with a raise of his eyebrow, he points a finger at TK’s face. “You’ve got some vomit on your chin.”

TK feels a blush crawl up his neck, but before he can say anything, his dad turns towards his room, pushing open the door and walking in like he’s been invited to do so.

“Dad, wait!”

It’s too late. His dad has already stepped inside, taking in the scene. TK cringes as the smell of vomit hits his nostrils.

“This a new boyfriend of yours?” his dad asks, gesturing to the naked guy still passed out in his bed. TK says nothing, having no desire to share that he has no idea who the guy is, or that he can’t even remember his name.

His dad circles around the bed, his hand coming up to cover his nose as he spies the puddle of puke on the floor.

“You’re paying to have that rug cleaned,” he says, turning towards the large bay window and throwing it open.

“Where do you get off telling me what to do? This isn’t your house anymore, Dad,” TK spits out, but it comes out with less fire than he had hoped. The smell is really strong here, and the room has started to spin again. He starts backing away towards the bathroom, knowing he’s going to need the toilet in just a minute.

“Not a boyfriend then,” his dad says, ignoring his question. He’s made it over to the TK’s side table, where the evidence of his drug-induced evening sits. He watches as his dad grabs the bag of Oxy, waving it around before pocketing it. “Your mother is going to kill you when she finds out you brought your drug dealer into her house.”

“That’s mine, I paid for that,” TK says weakly, his heart hammering in his chest. He doesn’t want to be here right now, he doesn’t want to be anywhere right now. He wants the room to stop spinning, he wants the stranger in his bed - the one he let touch him in ways that make him suddenly feel incredibly unclean - to disappear, and he wants his dad to stop looking at him like he’s regretting the day he was born.

(But hey, TK thinks, the familiar nasty voice in his head taking center stage, at least you finally got his attention.)

His dad is across the room and standing in front of him by the time he mentally checks back into the present moment. Before TK can say another word, he’s shoving a pair of clean boxers into his hands, a look of intense disappointment on his face.

“Take a shower, son. You stink.”

And with that, he steps out of the room, leaving TK to stare at his vomit-soaked carpet, his unwanted hookup, and every other regret he doesn’t have it in him to name.

------

Someone’s pounding on the wall behind his bed.

He comes to with a gasp, lurching forward in his bed. His breathing is out of control and he claws at his chest, trying to get a grip on his lungs, to squeeze them until they burst. It’s not like they’re working correctly anyway, he thinks as he struggles to breathe through an airway that he swears can’t be any wider than a coffee stirrer, so what’s the point of having them at all.

He just wants to feel something.

Because he was dead.

The image of his prone body on the floor, unmoving, just a mass of useless limbs and wasted potential, flashes through his mind, unbidden. He chokes out another sob, reaching up to fist his hands in his short hair, his nails scratching at his scalp. He recalls a time in his life when his mother would run her fingers through his hair, grounding him with love-laced scratches. How it would settle him, how it would focus him, how it would remind him that he wasn’t alone.

He’s alone now. She’s not here. It’s just him, and the addict screaming and pounding on the wall in the room next door.

Her face comes to him, the one she wore the last time she saw him, the lines of graceful aging marred by fear and hurt and hopelessness. All for him. All because of him. All because he couldn’t get his shit together. All because he couldn’t handle his cushy, privileged existence, with his middle-to-upper class accepting parents.

All because he didn’t want to do it anymore.

Except, he does. He really fucking does. He’s felt that high of life, the one that he can get without the help of pills. He’s loved before, he’s given his all to love, and sure, it didn’t last, but it was good. It was freeing. It was worth it.

He wants to find that again. Find the people that make it worth it again. Find his purpose. He knows it’s out there, he knows it’s waiting for him to get his shit together.

He’s twenty years old and he’s nearly killed himself, but he’s not dead yet. He’s not done yet.

He’s not fucking done yet.

So, yes, he’s here and he’s alone, with only thin walls and an uncomfortable mattress to call his own. But, if this is what he needs, if this is what is going to help him find out where he goes next, then it’s worth it. It’s all going to be worth it.

He cries himself back to sleep, back into the darkness, back into the moments that will haunt him for the rest of his life.

This time, though, as he gives himself over to rest, his lungs expand to fill his entire chest, his airways now clear and fulfilling their purpose, reminding him just how alive he is.

------

Someone’s shouting.

There are a lot of voices, but they all sound muddled and confused. There are hands on him, pressing down hard against his chest, and now that he’s noticed them, he also notices the most intense fucking pain that he’s ever felt in his life, right below his collarbone. It hurts so bad that he wants to scream, he even goes as far as opening his mouth to do so, but he’s not sure if anyone hears him; he’s not even sure he hears himself.

His eyes flutter open when he’s suddenly lifted into the air, the pain spiking to new heights. He sees shadows crawling across his vision, shapes that amount to nothing more than blobs of mass. There are so many of them, and they’re all moving so fast. Too fast for him to really pinpoint.

“TK!”

Those two letters - the two letters he knows better than any others - swim through the molasses to punch him in the eardrum, and he instinctively looks towards the sound. He finds his father there, his face pinched and sweaty and terrified. It’s a familiar face, one he saw just a few months ago actually, one that he never, ever wanted to see again.

Fuck. Another overdose.

But even that doesn’t explain the sharp pain in his shoulder. He looks around, trying to figure out his surroundings, trying to make sense of all of this. He’s clean, he knows he is. It’s been hard, but he’s in a better place now. He’s with better people now. He’s truly felt like he’s finding himself, finally, after all of these years.

There’s no way he threw that away. There’s no way.

He forces himself to focus, to figure out what the fuck is going on. He turns to see Captain Blake on his left - well, his left, her right, maybe, he doesn’t know. She’s barking orders, and he follows her arms down to find her hands pressed to his chest. He wants to shout at her, tell her that she doesn’t need to push so hard, that she’s really fucking hurting him, but he can’t speak. Just like his scream before, his voice is trapped inside of him.

He looks up to see Marjan above him, lines of tears running down her face. She doesn’t bother to wipe them away, just lets them fall as her bottom lip trembles. He focuses on it, wants to tell her that it’s going to be okay, wants to reach out and rub her shoulder gently. But, as hard as he tries, he can’t seem to do that either.

He’s stuck in a world where he can’t do a single damn thing.

Suddenly, the blurry ceiling above him gives way to what looks like a wood-covered porch, which quickly gives way to the night sky. It’s all fuzzy, but he swears he can see stars up there; he never really got to see stars before moving to Austin, save for the inconsistent trips he would take outside of the city.

He likes seeing the stars. He likes the open vastness of it all. It makes him feel equally too large and too small, which is honestly a really freeing, confusing feeling.

There are blue and red lights painting the trees overhead, and he’s reminded of his childhood room, with his firetruck bed and his color-changing lamp that would soothingly move from red to blue, just the way he liked. It feels so long ago, but he remembers it so clearly. It’s the only clear thing he can see right now.

He can tell he’s fading away again, his short reprieve to the land of the living coming to an end. The voices are still both loud and muted, but he no longer cares what they’re saying. The pain is reaching his maximum capacity, the edges of his vision turning white.

It’s okay, he thinks. It’s all going to be okay.

He feels his head drift to the right, and he swears he sees a familiar face, proud nose and perfect lips under a head of soft brown curls and soulful eyes that have seen deep into the very heart of him.

He smiles, perfectly content with Carlos being his final thought before he goes.

------

Someone’s coughing.

It takes him no time at all to realize that it’s him, that he’s the one hacking up a lung. He feels like his chest is on fire and he can’t take a full breath. There’s heat all around him, flames painting his surroundings an unrecognizable, hazy orange. The bed is gone, the dresser is gone. It’s all vanishing, lost to the fire.

But that’s not what causes him to panic, that’s not what stops his breath. That’s not what threatens to shatter him completely.

Carlos is among the flames.

They’re crawling up his body, latching on to his blue shirt, the one that TK thinks makes him look completely unreal. Well, truly that’s anything he wears, but blue always makes Carlos look soft.

It makes him look like home. The greatest one that TK has ever known.

And now, TK watches as his home catches on fire, unable to move, to step forward, to pull Carlos to safety. His boyfriend watches him as the flames rise up between them, his eyes wide and full of fear, his chest heaving from the breaths that he just can’t seem to catch. TK wants to yell out, tell Carlos to come to him, that they can get out of this together if they just hurry, but every time he goes to speak, a cough climbs up his throat, burying the words inside of him.

He knows he’d be crying if he could, but the flames have stolen his tears from him, too. The flames are going to take everything from him. Everything that matters, packaged inside one wonderful, miraculous, unexpected person.

And before he can even blink, Carlos is gone, swallowed whole, no trace of the man that TK chose to give his entire heart to. He’s gone, and TK desperately wants to follow him.

There’s a creak above him and he has just enough time to look up before the entire ceiling comes down on top of him, granting him his final wish.

He jerks awake, the coughs relentless as he folds himself in half, trying to remove the smoke and ash from his body. It’s dark in the room now, the fire finally extinguished. Except, no, that’s not right, because as he looks around, he sees that everything is intact. Nothing burnt, nothing broken.

He reaches out blindly, trying to find Carlos in the dark, but he’s met with only air. He turns, taking in the empty space on the mattress beside him, the untouched pillow.

“No,” he gasps, shaking his head, and finally the tears come, no longer frightened of the untamable heat. “No, Carlos, no,” he sobs, pulling at the sheets, hoping that he can find him hiding somewhere in their depths. He claws at them, desperate, unhinged.

“TK!”

The voice is salvation, the timbre unmatched in its miraculousness. TK whips around, searching and scanning for the source. He lets out a cry when he finds him, standing in the doorway, dressed in nothing but athletic shorts, a bright white towel pressed to his curls, water still trailing down his bare chest.

Whole, untouched, safe. His home.

And TK just loses it.

In seconds, he’s in Carlos’s arms, his firm hands pressed against his back as his shoulders close around him, encasing him. His lips press to the shell of TK’s ear, his voice pouring into him like lava, filling all of his cavities and crevices left behind by the nightmare that took Carlos away from him.

“I’m right here, baby, I’m right here, it’s okay.”

TK sobs, clinging to him, his voice piercing in the quiet of his dad’s guest room. “You were there and you were surrounded by the fire and I couldn’t get to you, I couldn’t move, and I had to watch you, I just had to watch you go and then you weren’t there anymore, and it was like you were never there at all, but I couldn’t do anything, I just--”

“Hey, hey, Ty, breathe,” Carlos says, drowning out his voice with his own, pressing closer. “It was just a nightmare, we both made it out, we’re both here and we’re both okay. We’re both okay.”

“I… I can’t… I just…”

“Baby, you’re shaking, you’ve gotta calm down, okay.”

“I don’t… I can’t…”

“Here, lay back down,” Carlos says, loosening his grip a bit. TK shrieks, holding tighter. “It’s okay, trust me. TK, I need you to trust me.”

It takes him a moment, but finally TK lets him go. He closes his eyes, feeling the way Carlos lowers him back down onto the mattress. TK can still feel himself shaking, but before he can really start to panic again, he feels a weight on him, one that presses him firmly down, grounding him, holding him steady, from head-to-toe.

His eyes flutter open to take in Carlos above him where his face is pressed into his neck. He breathes, taking stock of their bodies, the way their hips rest against each other, the way Carlos firm thighs bracket his own. He brings his arms up around him, wrapping them around Carlos’s wide back before dragging one hand to the back of his neck and burying them in the soft curls there.

It’s a position he’s intimately familiar with, though unlike other times there is nothing remotely sexual about this situation. Carlos turns his head just enough to press his lips under TK’s jaw, dragging his nose along the light stubble there.

All he feels, all he sees, all he hears, is Carlos.

“Just breathe, baby. I’m right here. I’m all around you. I’ll keep you safe. Just like you kept me safe in the fire, just like you kept me grounded, just like you brought me back down when I felt scared and hurt and lost. I’m here for you now. It’s you and me, keeping each other safe, just you and me.”

He nods, letting Carlos drown him in his own form of a sermon, allowing the words to wash over him like a verse. He lets each syllable piece him back together again, remade in the image of the man he’s deemed worthy of loving him. The only man he will ever trust to do so.

He doesn’t need anything else, doesn’t want anything else. This is all he needs. This is all he will ever need.

Just him and Carlos, like this, forever.

-----

Someone’s snoring.

He comes to slowly, letting the world reintroduce itself to him. He hears music first, though it sounds tinny and, if he’s being honest, kind of grating. He shifts his hips a bit, feeling how the movement pulls against some tension in his lower back. He realizes he’s on a very hard surface and not at all on the very expensive mattress that he and Carlos splurged for a few years ago, when his husband started having his own fair share of lower back problems.

He opens his eyes, watching blue and red lights dance across the ceiling from the TV in the corner. A smile pulls at his lips as he shakes his head slightly, amused for no specific reason. Blue and red, he thinks. He’ll never escape them.

He lifts his head just enough to see the children’s TV show currently playing to an audience of none. He remembers when Carlos, fully offended at Netflix asking if he was still watching the same show after a few hours, finally figured out a way to turn that setting off. TK will have to tease him about not turning off the autoplay function tomorrow morning.

He finally focuses on the snoring off to his right, a sound so familiar that he hadn’t really registered it before, his brain just accepting that it was there. He turns his head, his smile growing as he finds his husband asleep next to him, his head resting on TK’s outstretched (and now very painfully numb) arm.

Carlos’s face is so soft, so serene, his brows slightly furrowed, his crease between his eyes just a little more pronounced. His lips are parted just barely, allowing his shallow breaths to escape and fill the living room around them. TK stares at him, overwhelmed by his beauty, overwhelmed by the feelings that are spreading throughout his chest at the sight of the man before him.

Even in sleep, Carlos is mesmerizing.

TK glances down, his heart leaping at the sight of their little boy asleep between them, his face buried in Carlos’s shirt, his light brown curls resting against the pillow beneath him. Carlos has an arm draped over him, his fingers grazing TK’s arm.

A memory flashes in his mind, one from when he was much younger, of his parents surrounding him in much the same way as they all lay together on his firetruck bed. He remembers how safe he felt between them; how between their bodies, he knew he could never be hurt.

He’s surprised to find that he feels that way even now, even as a father himself. He knows it’s because of the man before him; Carlos’s presence has always meant safety to him. He doesn’t see that ever stopping. He wouldn’t ever want it to.

He scoots just a little bit closer, groaning slightly at the numbness in his arm. He holds his breath as his husband shifts, his eyelids fluttering open. Brown eyes meet green, and TK feels the entire world shift into focus in that single moment.

“Hey,” Carlos whispers, dragging his fingers gently along TK’s side.

“We fell asleep on the living room floor,” TK whispers, scrunching his face as he shifts again, feeling the strain on his hips.

“Actually, you fell asleep on the floor, in the middle of Paw Patrol,” Carlos corrects, his hand leaving TK’s side to boop his nose. “We just decided that we would rather stay with you than sleep in our incredibly comfy beds.”

“Your back is going to kill you in the morning, you know that, right?”

“I could say the same thing about your hips,” Carlos replies, raising an eyebrow. TK says nothing, just nods his head and rolls his eyes.

“Grace is taking him tomorrow night, so we can run a bath, work out each other's kinks.”

“The fact that you are saying that and it’s not about sex makes me feel so incredibly old.”

“I never said it couldn’t be about sex.”

TK feels his jaw drop, watching as Carlos’s eyes twinkle in the blue light from the TV. He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to his husband’s lips.

“I’m looking forward to it, Mr. Strand-Reyes.”

“I’d be offended if you weren’t, Mr. Strand-Reyes.”

TK drags the tip of his nose along the ridge of Carlos’s before letting out a sigh. “Now that we’re awake, should we move to our beds, save ourselves from total regret and bodily mutilation?”

Carlos hums, looking down at the bundle of limbs between them. “It’s up to you. I just want to sleep next to you, wherever you are.”

TK takes him in for a moment, the way his long lashes brush against his cheeks, the peaceful smile that pulls at his lips as he looks down at their son. It’s a stunning image, powerful in its perfection.

“No, I think we can handle one night,” he says, scooting closer. He does remove his arm from under Carlos’s head, replacing it with the throw pillow laying on the ground next to them. “Besides, I think this is exactly where we’re supposed to be.”

Carlos hums in agreement, wiggling a little closer and smacking his lips softly as he drifts off to sleep.

TK stays awake until Carlos’s soft snores drown out all possible distractions, the feeling of absolute love and certainty filling him with a heaviness that drags him back into the darkness of sleep, all nightmares kept at bay for now.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star #tk strand #carlos reyes #I wrote a thing #5+1 fic #please let me know what you think - it's been a minute and I tried some new things

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ctl-yuejie · 3 years ago

Text

How the diverse world of the addictive tv series “Cherry magic” got made

(interview with scriptwriter Yoshida Erika by Yokogawa Yoshiaki)

沼堕ち続出ドラマ“チェリまほ”の多様な世界はどうやって作られたのか【脚本家・吉田恵里香さん】2020.12.22 横川良明

for @howdydowdy because we were talking about what a fantastic character Fujisaki is and the notion of consent when it comes to reading someone’s mind

Currently, societal values continue to change rapidly. On one hand the movement of respecting each other’s diverse individualities and making it easier for each and every one to live in society has become more active, one the other hand it is not a rare occasion to be lost for words when suddenly unconscious discriminatory biases – derived from not being able to cut loose old values that are rooted deep in oneself – raise their heads.

How should we exist within this period of polarization? This series is to create the opportunity to think about this topic by having discussions with the toprunners in the entertainment world. The person I am introducing for the first edition is screenwriter Yoshida Erika.

She is behind the script of “Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?!”, the tv series that has grabbed the first spot on the oricon satisfaction ranking for 4 weeks in a row, and has gained fast popularity despite its late-night spot. The enthusiasm for the show can be attributed to the soft view Ms. Yoshida has on the world.

Yokogawa Yoshiaki (YY): I am happily watching the series. I really liked the original work, however the way it was adapted to a television format has been brilliant. One big thing is the making of the character of Kurosawa played by Machida Keita. By Adachi’s magic (played by Akasouji Eiji), the voice of Kurosawa’s heart spills out, and while the original text had him be quite blatant in his expressions overall, the drama carefully examines them.

Yoshida Erika (YE): That is definitely where there is a difference in depth. The original has the premise of a work in the BL genre, readers are expecting a BL-like development, so they can take such things in stride, but the viewership of the tv series is more varied. Under them there might be people who do not like BL. That is why I was conscious about how different people from different backgrounds might watch this show.

It is not okay to assault someone just because you were invited to their house, kissing or touching without consent is not okay and being of the same or different sex makes no difference in this. Treating such things as okay because it is BL would be rude to the parties concerned. Because we are using the BL genre, we want to specifically protect the “firsts” of the parties concerned. That is something the producer Ms. Honma Kanami and the director agreed about and I therefore paid extra attention to.

YY: Adachi himself, as he is about to step into Kurosawa’s house thinks “Not that I might possibly get assaulted?!”, and is very vigilant, but with some soul-searching realizes that that is rude towards Kurosawa. To say it briefly, you can feel the probity of the creators.

YE: I thought that a main character that thinks that he will get assaulted when he steps into the house of someone will not be loveable. No matter how well received the person is who acts it out, if we cannot love them on a human level, this drama will not work. Adachi’s power to read people’s hearts is also the action of seeing people’s darker sides on his own volition. That’s why a character we cannot love as a person will receive push-back by the viewers.

YY: Just like you said, the act of reading peoples’ hearts includes great violence. That is why I think that when he realizes that Kurosawa has fond feelings for him, unlike the original where he reads Kurosawa’s heart on purpose, the drama treats it as an accidental force. Over the whole series, it is of focal importance that Adachi doesn’t overuse his magic.

YE: That is where we were extremely careful. In the manga easy comprehensiveness is important and that type of suspense is interesting - and we don’t intend to deny that - but if you do it as a drama, I didn’t want to make him into a young man using his powers at ease. That is why, especially in the first half, he decides and tries very hard not to use his powers when possible. The scene where he reads the CEO’s heart appears in the first issue of the original, but in the drama we pushed it back to the 5th episode. We made it a point to illustrate how Adachi is filled with the emotion to help Kurosawa and that is why he uses his powers.

That what I don’t want others to do unto me, I do not want to inflict on characters.

YY: His colleague Fujisaki (Satou Ryo) is a Fujoshi in the original and that premise was cut from the series. If you decided to have a Fujoshi character on a prime time show, did you think that misunderstandings might arise easily?

YE: That was definitely a thought. In BL as a genre it is not an issue that a character exists that takes the same viewpoint as the reader, and I love Fujisaki in the original, but the people who are acting it out in reality are real people. At that point, loudly fawning about someone else’s’ love life is not perceived as good conduct. At the least, I thought that I wouldn’t want to be treated like that.

YY: It is fine to envision fictional characters as romantic partners, but it is different when you make a real acquaintance the target of that.

YE:

A thought we had was that if Adachi and Kurosawa were to really date it would be one thing, but grinning at someone - who might even be heterosexual – because you inflate your own BL adjacent delusion isn’t much different from a man grinning at a woman with big breasts and calling her sexy. I wouldn’t want to get treated that way, so I didn’t want to inflict that on the characters in the story as well.

When it comes to Fujisaki it isn’t like she isn’t a Fujoshi. We do not clearly state it, but I thought there was no reason to show it in the drama.

YY: You are saying, that it is fine that people might interpret Fujisaki as a Fujoshi when she is smiling at Adachi and Kurosawa.

YE: Yes. That is where you are free to imagine (laughs).

YY: What I thought was very fresh is that instead of proclaiming her to be a Fujoshi, Fujisaki is turned into someone who “is happily living her daily life even without romantic love”. We don’t often get characters like that in Japanese tv series.

Personally, I also like romantic tv series, but while feeling venerated when the main characters have realized their love in the final episode, when trying to build a romantic connection to someone else in real life it might not go well and beyond that, it is not that it never happens that I, who also holds interests in other things than romance, end up feeling empty because of the lonely feeling of having been left behind (when watching a romance on tv unfold).

But with having Fujisaki appear, it felt like I got rescued.

YE: Until now, for several projects I made the suggestion of a character that is not interested in romance, but I wasn’t understood. “Is it necessary to do that?” “Aren’t you overthinking it?” were things I got told often.

But with this production, when I said that I wanted Fujisaki to be asexual or aromantic, no one denied me. From that stage on I thought that this place was a good one, and thanks to the original writer giving her agreement it got turned into reality.

YY: Since this kind of character hasn’t really appeared in a tv series, it felt like people like Fujisaki were assigned to be non-existent in this world. But thanks to you envisioning her like this, seen from a person that like Fujisaki might say “I got used to acting “normal”” and feel a notion of despair when confronted with people not understanding them, it felt like it got emphasized that people like her also exist in our society. Picking such little voices feels like it is one of the purposes of entertainment.

YE: If that could become the case I would be glad about it. 10 to 20 years prior, a “fairytale gay” (describing the flamboyant gay friend, that mentally supports the heroine by giving some harsh but accurate advice) often appeared in tv series from abroad, but this portrayal slowly changed, finally it has reached the point where the view point that being gay isn’t something special has penetrated the public.

So this time, I believe that one of my duties was to tell the story of people that are not interested in romance or people who do not only love one person, not from a standpoint that is convenient for consumption, but to have properly realized characters up to their individual backgrounds.

I hope the time comes where it isn’t necessary to especially say “This is a BL series”

YY: Please let me speak on something that has confused me this far. Prior, when you explained Fujisaki in context of the script, it felt like it wasn’t okay to call her asexual or aromantic because she herself doesn’t use any of those labels. I was somewhat afraid that an outsider would just selfishly declare that “you are asexual, aren’t you!?” in regards to someone who hasn’t professed anything.

YE: There is the point of both of the terms asexual and aromantic not being widely known in Japan as much as compared to overseas and I also think there are people who just wouldn’t use these words. Even when you think you are not interested in romance at the moment, it could also be that you just haven’t found the person that makes you feel that way. That’s why I can understand how labelling someone has a violent notion.

YY: My next question is also relating to that: This applies to Cherry Maho, but generally when I write about over works that feature a lovestory between men I try not to use the word BL.

This is my own opinion but to me it feels like the term BL has too much of a sexual image.

In private I casually use the word BL. However, for the content of an article that is read by an unspecified number of people, I remember stumbling over labelling something as BL. Using BL as an easy genre specifier has the effect that there will be a layer that won’t get looked at. I simply want to have more people enjoy a piece of work. I don’t object to the editor using BL in the title but in the content I write, I try not to use the term BL story but simply “love story between two men” and keep it close to how you’d address it in reality.

YE: I understand that. Obviously, I don’t intend to shame the taste of people that like BL. However, I understand that there are people that feel a sense of resistance towards BL as a genre. That is why I also don’t use the word BL when I promote on twitter. I do think that it would be great to have a new word.

Just like women have things they don’t want to be subjected to, men also have things they don’t want to be subjected to. This kind of awareness has become more broadly spread bit by bit. However, in order to have it really penetrate society it needs for the voices of the affected people to be heard. But it is also the reality of today’s society that violence is directed at people that raise their voice. That is why I feel like it is the job of the people that create tv shows to speak up instead.

At the least, that is how I want to straightforwardly create the world, so that in 10 years without directly stating “this is a BL series” we have a society that takes it in as a “new cool romantic drama beginning” with “the leads being actor x and actor z” and as nothing unusual. Now we really have such a transitional period, and as a writer I want to build the steps towards it.

original article: https://mi-mollet.com/articles/-/27045?page=3&per_page=1

#cherry magic #thirty years of virginity can make you a wizard #30歳まで童貞だと魔法使いになれるらしい #30 sai made #a bit rusty with my translations but i really enjoyed how they were talking about the writing and character composition in the series and #decided that I had to share #long post

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years ago

Text

Our Future ~ JJK

WORD COUNT: 3.9k

GENRE: Established-Relationship, CEO Jungkook, fluffy

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

The sound of Jungkook's alarm blaring out made you smirk to yourself, he always struggled waking up in the mornings and this was the sixth time in a row his alarm would be going off. You got up from the sofa placing the book you were reading down onto the coffee table and walked into the kitchen to go and pour him his morning coffee. Jungkook would need it if he was going to make it through the day and so would everyone else who would be around him, he was never a morning person. Every morning was the same with him though Jungkook would wakeup late no matter what before rushing around the house to get ready. Screaming out whenever he couldn't find anything that he needed for the day which was why you made sure you knew where everything was for him.

"Baby have you seen my-" He went to call out but you cut him off,

"On the bathroom door, steamed and ready for you to wear." You called up the stairs as you heard him fumbling around hunting for his tie that went with his suit, Monday mornings were always the worst cause he didn't know where all the fresh items were. He shouted out a thank you before finishing his morning routine and you shook your head going back to making him something to eat.

By the time he came downstairs fully clothed you had a to-go breakfast ready with his coffee in a travel mug for him, he kissed your forehead as an unspoken thank you.

"What would I do without you?" He complimented as he took everything from you and began walking out of the front door, you stared down at the coffee table in the living room and shook your head. Sitting there were his car keys which he also needed to get into the office,

"Keys!" You cried out as you rushed over to the front door, carrying his car keys in your hand, you leant against the door frame waiting for him to turn around. He turned to face you and you held them above your head shaking them a little as you puckered up your lips for him.

"You can have them if you give me a real kiss," You giggled to him as he walked back over to you shaking his head as he watched you closely,

"Honestly, what would I do without you?" He groaned out in satisfaction putting his coffee and food down onto the table that was just inside the porch. You smirked to yourself as you brought the keys down from above your head and waited for him to kiss you,

"Probably waste away to nothing, never look presentable and be late to everything." You teased as he smirked at you shaking his head but humming along in agreement as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"It's the truth, you'd be nothing without me, probably just never show up to work-" He cut you off with a short and passionate kiss no matter how often it happened it still made you feel as though you were floating on a cloud. Smiling to himself he pulled away and grabbed his things from behind you, kissing your forehead as he turned to leave.

"I'll see you after work, I'll make sure dinner is ready." You leant against the doorframe watching him leave but he turned to look at you at the last second shaking his head,

"I'll be working late tonight. Jimin and Taehyung have some reports to finish and I said I'd help out...Being the kind and generous CEO I am." He winked at you as he got into the black car, placing his food onto the dash and drink into the cupholder.

"I'll keep you some in the oven then, you can warm it up when you get back home." You blew him a kiss and he pretended to catch it and place it in his pocket for later, you rolled your eyes at him he was always childish like this with you.

"Bye loser!" You called out before shutting the front door and turning to look around the house for something to do, you had some time off from work so you had to figure out something to do. Jungkook had around the clock maids to work in his huge house so there was no way you could clean up anything. There were still boxes from your old apartment that you hadn't unpacked yet so you decided to go and unpack them. Jungkook and yourself had been together for the last four years but you'd only just recently moved in with him since your lease was finally up. He asked you before but you'd never done it because of the lease, you turned towards the staircase and a voice filled the air.

"Do you want anything to eat? I can make you something before I clean the kitchen up." One of the maids - Miss Sana - questioned as she watched you heading towards the spare office Jungkook had set up for you. It was a workspace away from work so you could still get everything you needed to do done,

"No, it's okay. Thank you though." You whispered to her as you began walking into the office, trying not to seem rude to her. She was one of the loveliest girl's you'd met but having someone run around after you, was still something you found odd. Jungkook was used to having people work for him but, all of it was still new to you having someone make your bed for you, clean everything for you. They'd offer to make you and Jungkook meals but you always refused, wanting him to have a homecooked meal from you.

"If you need anything please call me on the intercom," She called out to you just before you shut the door, leaning back on the door you looked around at all of the boxes at least all of them were labelled making it easier for you. It was mostly all of your work things that needed to be moved in. Things that would be going around the office like photographs, folders and other stationery items you had.

"Miss Y/l/n?" The same maid from the morning questioned when you pressed the intercom, she found it odd since you hardly used it unless Jungkook was at home and you were trying to find it.

"Hi, I just tried to get into Jungkook's office but it's locked. Do you by chance, have a key?" You questioned as you spoke into the machine, it felt weird to be talking to someone halfway across the house you hated doing it when Jungkook was here but in a house this big it was needed. Especially when he would leave his phone in a different room.

"I don't, I can call Mr Jeon if you like?" Her voice came out soothing,

"No it's okay, I'll call him." You stopped the intercom before phoning Jungkook's main office. He should have been on his lunch by now so it was no big deal for you to call him and for him to answer. Not that it would be a big deal anyway, he owned the business and could do what he wanted with it.

"Baby? Is something wrong?" He questioned, answering the call after just four rings,

"I was just wondering where the keys for your office are? I have a photograph I want to put on your desk." You laughed softly looking at the frame it was from your first date together. A collage of photographs all put together inside of the frame, Jungkook hushed someone on the other end of the phone and you frowned.

"It's locked baby, I have the only key. I'm sorry." There was a giggle from the other end of the call that wasn't from him or the boys, you swallowed the lump in your throat as you tried not to overthink things. It was probably just nothing.

"Oh...Okay, I'll leave it out and you can put it in when you get home? How are the reports coming along?" You questioned him as you waited for some kind of response but it sounded as though he was stalling as he thought of something to say to you.

"They're good, t-the boys are just inside the office with me," You knew for a fact he was lying he stuttered which was one of the dead giveaways that Jungkook was lying to you, that and you heard a female giggle so you knew it wasn't the boys.

"That's great. I erm, I'm going to leave you to it." You hung up quickly not wanting to overthink it anymore and Jungkook frowned looking at the phone on his desk. Jungkook knew you'd been cheated on the past and promised he would never do that to you, you were probably just overthinking everything. His assistant was probably inside the room with the rest of them. At least that was what you were trying to tell yourself.

That night you didn't see Jungkook come home you headed to bed around 10 pm after not getting any responses from his mobile or office phone, you figured he was busy with the boys. You left a small note on the kitchen door telling him how to warm his food up and headed up to bed but this morning there was no sign of him. Normally you would wake up being cuddled by him but today there was nothing, the sheets were freezing as though he hadn't been home all night and his PJ's were in the same spot as the day before.

"Guk?" You called out when you heard the floorboards outside the bedroom door creak you were feeling hopeful that he'd just gotten up on time,

"N-No Ma'am, it's me." You sighed before dismissing the maid and laid back down against the sheets and stared up at the ceiling wondering if he'd even been home. Usually, you'd wake up before him or when his first alarm sounded but this morning there was nothing, no sign he'd even been home yet.

Heading into the kitchen the same note was on the door of the kitchen and his food was still in the oven yet another sign he hadn't been home all night.

"Miss Sana?" You called out to the maid who had just walked by the kitchen door, she turned to look at you with a small smile on her face.

"Did Jungkook come home last night? I-I cooked for him but he hasn't eaten it..." The maid looked over at the oven and then at you before shaking her head, you could tell by the look on her face that she wasn't sure about telling you about something.

"He was working late, called to tell me to not let you worry. He stayed at the office." Your mouth formed an 'O' shape at the thought of him being locked up in his office all night and day today. It couldn't have been good for him to spend the night on that sofa, you'd spent some time there and it wasn't exactly the comfiest of places.

"I'll take him some lunch later, and some fresh clothes. I hate the thought of him being all stuffy in his work outfit," You tried to seem hopeful and not worried that something was going on behind your back but it was hard when every sign pointed at that there was.

As you strolled onto the top floor of the office building you were stooped by four of Jungkook's employees, all of them asking what you were doing there and how you were doing. Jimin even rushed up to you to see what you had in the small basket in your hands,

"Lunch for Jungkook...He was here all night so I figured he could use some homemade food instead of that junk you get him," You teased poking Jimin's chest as you continued walking in the direction of the main glass office. Jungkook was sitting at his desk with a huge smile on his face as someone sat across from him made him laugh at something.

"Who's he with?" You questioned the assistant who was watching you nervously,

"It's-" The door to his office opened and he walked out,

"I'll call you later- Babe?" He stopped staring at the beautiful woman beside him and looked at you, the smile on his lips fading instantly as soon as he saw you standing there.

"Hi. I-I bought you some lunch?" You gestured to the basket in your hand and he sent you a weak smile,

"Go sit in my office, I was just walking Miss Jackson out." You nodded as you switched places with him and the woman, smiling at her but she avoided your gaze before walking off down the hallways. Jimin stared at you through the glass office and you bit down on your lip, it felt as though everyone knew something except for you so you placed the basket down on the desk and waited for Jungkook to come back to you.

"Sorry baby, hi," Jungkook whispered as he walked into the office again rushing over to you and bringing you into a hug but you placed your hands on his chest.

"I brought you some food and clothes, S-Sanna said you didn't come home," The original plan was to eat with him but after seeing people stare at you through the glass while you waited for him to come back you didn't want to sit there much longer.

"You're not eating with me?" He frowned looking in the basket at everything inside, he could tell it wasn't just meant for him.

"You and the boys should eat it while you work on the reports, are you coming home tonight?" He nodded at your question, he knew something was wrong with you but he wasn't going to press you for information here. He could wait until he got home later to see what it was that was really bothering you,

"I'll see you later," You turned your back on him to leave but Jungkook took your wrist in his grasp and pulled you back to him. You were standing between his legs while he rested on the desk looking into your eyes, he reached up to cup your face in his hands.

"I'll see you when I'm home. I'm not working late tonight," You snuggled into his touch trying to ignore the pit inside of your stomach that something was wrong, it was clear there wasn't when Jungkook was with you.

"You'll be home at the normal time?" You quizzed looking over your shoulder to see Jimin was still watching you both,

"Yeah, the reports are finished. I'll see you later," He pulled your face to look at him and kissed your lips softly, you instantly relaxed against him and kissed him back. Pushing your hands into his hair as you relaxed into the kiss.

"See you tonight," You whispered to him before leaving him in the office and heading home for the night.

"Oh! Here," You called out as you rushed over to Miss Jackson as she scrambled to pick up something that fell from her bag,

"Thank you." She whispered as you reached under her car to grab the small navy blue box,

"No problem," As you looked up at her she seemed to panic, snatching the box out of your grasp and shoving it into her handbag.

"I have to go. Bye!" She yelled out, slamming her car door as she rushed to get away from you, you frowned watching her speed out of the parking lot but tried not to put too much thought into it as you headed home for the day.

The next morning you straddled Jungkook's lap as you waited for him to wake up, he was on his first alarm so you figured it would be nice to wake up in his arms this time.

"Morning baby," You cooed in his ear, biting down on it softly as you waited for him to wake up.

"Morning," He grumbled as he heard his second alarm beginning to ring, you reached out to shut it off for him but he slammed his hand down quickly on the phone and turned it over so the screen couldn't be seen.

"Baby relax, I was just going to turn the alarm off." You giggled but he opened the drawer and slid his phone into it, wrapping his arms around you as he turned you over to lay on the bed.

"Fifteen more minutes," He moaned out but you wriggled under his grasp, tickling his sides as a form of trying to get him to wake up.

"You'll be late if we have fifteen more minutes, come and shower." You whispered to him in a seducing tone but he didn't move,

"Kookie," You whined out to him about to ask him to join you again when his phone began to ring this time.

"Who's that? It's too early for someone to be calling you." You mumbled to him, reaching out but he shook his head.

"Leave it. It's nothing. Go have some breakfast." He slid out from the bed, grabbing his phone before he grumpily made his way into the bathroom without you. Your invitation to shower together going completely unnoticed by him, you sighed to yourself before getting up to change into something for the day.

Jungkook came down the stairs half an hour later rushing around, as usual, you gave him his drink and breakfast and he left without a kiss or goodbye.

"Mr Kim Namjoon is driving him around today, he isn't in the office," Sana said as she noticed the look of confusion written across your face but it only made you question it more, why had he told Sana where he was going and not you?

"I'm going out for a drive," You mumbled as you watched the car Jungkook was being driven around in pull out of the drive and head in the opposite direction of his office building.

"Miss Y/n? You're going to need something to eat!" Sana stopped talking when the front door slammed and she saw your car backing out of the garage. There was nothing she could do to stop you so she wasn't going to.

You'd followed behind Jungkook's car all morning keeping your distance, of course, you didn't want him to see you in case he thought you were going insane but he was in town. He hadn't gone into work at all, Jungkook and Namjoon were walking through the streets of Seoul while he hunted for something. Stopping at a book store, then a flower store and then a chocolate shop.

"What is he doing?" You whispered to yourself as you watched Jungkook sit down inside the chocolate shop, Namjoon glanced out of the window so you quickly hid behind a man carrying a basket.

"Sir, your girlfriend seems to be following us," Jungkook smirked to himself as he picked out the perfect chocolates followed by a box,

"I know, just keep acting as though we don't see her." He chuckled to Namjoon who just shook his head. Jungkook knew you'd been following him from the moment he got into the city, he'd seen you trying to sneak around behind them but you weren't all that good at being a spy.

"I have something planned, just let me lose her in my own time." Jungkook laughed to Namjoon who nodded along.

An hour passed after Jungkook left the chocolate shop and you lost him in one of the largest crowds you'd ever seen, they were all grouping around some music shop and you couldn't see him anymore.

"Fuck," You whispered as you sat down on a bench in front of the Han River, you knew it was probably insane for you to be following your boyfriend around but you wanted to know what he was doing behind your back.

"Y'know, you wouldn't be a good spy," You jumped up when you heard Jungkook's voice come from seemingly nowhere, you turned around to see him standing behind the bench holding everything he'd bought that day.

"I don't know what you're talking about, I came out for a jog." You lied as you looked away from him not wanting to feel ashamed of following him around, he sighed as he walked around the side of the bench to join you.

"You came out for a jog in this?" He touched the jumper you were wearing, it was one of the most expensive items of clothing you owned and you groaned at him feeling disgusted in yourself,

"I-I was worried you were out with someone else-"

"Like Miss Jackson?" You groaned as he let out a small chuckle at the look on your face as you nodded,

"Don't laugh, it's not funny...I-I look creepy following you around." He shook his head at you and wrapped his arm around your shoulder as he smiled,

"I thought it was cute, but you were kind of right. I did go to see Miss Jackson today," He handed you the box of chocolates and then the flowers.

"I didn't want to do this here but the plan I had wasn't going to work either," He was started to stumble and stutter over his words as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the box you'd gotten for Miss Jackson yesterday.

"Jungkook..." You whispered slowly as you stared down at the box, he was throwing it between each hand as he smiled at you.

"W-We can do this again, somewhere I can ask you properly but hiding this from you has been killing me this week." He told you as he bit down on his lip,

"I wasn't working late on Monday, I was working on this-" He held the box up in front of your face and you frowned wondering what it was.

"Remember, I'll ask this again properly later but Y/n Y/l/n will you do me the honour of marrying me?" The box flipped open to reveal the ring that Jungokook had been working so hard on all week long. It was a silver band with your birthstone as the diamond, he'd heard you speaking about your dream engagement ring before and wanted to make sure he got it all right.

"K-Kookie," You teared up as you stared up at him, he was tearing up as he looked at you,

"I love you. I want you to be mine for the rest of our lives," He whispered to you,

"Yes! Thousand times yes," You cried out as you wrapped your arms around his body and hugged him tightly, snuggling your head into his neck and sobbing as you agreed to marry him. He chuckled as he held onto you tightly,

"I'll do it again in a real setting-" He stopped talking when you shook your head and kissed his lips,

"You don't have to, this...This is perfect," You whispered to him as you looked into his eyes, he smirked slipping the ring out of the box before he placed it onto your finger.

"This is excellent," You repeated as you looked at the ring which was sitting on your finger perfectly,

"I love you," He whispered as he leant forward to kiss you, neither of you noticing the fact that a small group of people were clapping and congratulating you both on your future together.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @fan-ati--c @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie @rjsmochii @bisexualmess007 @sw33tnight @innersooya @sweeneyblue1 @jin-from-the-block

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clouditae · 4 years ago

Text

First Love | 10

Word: 4.4k

You first saw him in the multi-purpose room. Later learn his name, and on your third year, as he becomes your neighbor, you discover his lifestyle. Knowing your crush on him was nothing but that, you wanted to find the courage to look for love. Asking your friend for help, you’re pointed in the direction of the expert. Your neighbor, Min Yoongi

Chapter Index

You feel like you’re going to hyperventilate as you pace back and forth in your once again empty room. Ari isn’t here to calm you down, but she’ll only make fun of you or scare you even more rather than actually calm your racing heart and rapid breathing down. You wish you told her what is going to happen today, but it didn’t seem like a good idea. Ari always has a big mouth, so she might actually spill what happens between you and Yoongi to Hoseok who only thinks Yoongi is teaching you simple things to get a date.

Now you’re going to go on a date and after that he’s taking you back to his room and teach you how to give…

You can only swallow at the thought of seeing what’s under his clothing articles. You almost let the thought of him unbuttoning his pants invade your imagination, but you shake your head and check the time on your phone for the umpteenth time. With a few minutes left before meeting in front of Yoongi’s car, you grab your bag, keys and phone, shoving your keys and phone into the bag where your wallet lays. You can’t never stop your racing heart as you go your usual route to meet with Yoongi at the back parking lot. To you it feels like it’s a real date, but it’s not and you know it. You know that deep down inside Yoongi has no feelings towards you and is only doing this for Hoseok.

You just sadly can’t stop yourself from hoping.

Reaching the last step to the outdoor stairwell, the door to the first floor hall opens to reveal Yoongi. The two of you meet eyes, no words are said for a few seconds before he breaks the silence, “Ready?”

You nod, clearly not ready for whatever is about to come. He walks past you and to his car. You follow in suit, looking him up and down at his outfit. You can’t deny that he looks really good in his outfit today. A gray sweatshirt that rolled up to his elbow, a pair of jeans with a rip at the knee, and black combat boots. Simple yet very attractive.

You sigh knowing today is going to be a long day.

A short drive later, Yoongi pulls into a parking lot, parking in front of the restaurant. He turns off the engine and gets out of the car. You quickly fix your shirt and hair before getting out as he waits for you at the front of his vehicle. With the sound of the car being locked, you follow him up to the wooden double doors. He opens the door, moving to the side for you to enter first. That’s new; you’ve never expected him to do something so… gentlemanly. Maybe because this is supposed to be a date and he’s treating you how people normally do on a first date. You’re not sure, but you’re going to keep quiet and enjoy the change in his personality for today.

Talking to the host for a brief moment, Yoongi signals you with a nod of his head to follow as the host guides you through the rooms filled with chatting people and soft music. Further in the back of the restaurant, he stands next to an empty booth, smiling politely as you two take your seats. He places the menu, jotting in his small notepad the drinks you’ve ordered. You should be used to Yoongi now; used to his presence and how he acts, but you’re apparently not. You don’t know what to do or say.

How’s the tattoo business going? I mean, I know I saw you about a week ago working on that Grim Reaper piece, but I’m asking again because I have no idea what to say. What about your music? Is that working out okay? Are the beats… good?

You want to smack your forehead for the stupidity that just came to thought.

“Are you always going to be nervous when you go on dates?” he observes in a blasé tone.

You’re caught off guard by his sudden comment seeing as he isn’t even paying attention to you with his eyes on the menu in front of him. “What?” you babble, grabbing the menu and opening it like you’ve been looking at it the whole time.

Yoongi glances at you. “You were rubbing your hands together, which means you’re nervous. You do this every time we’re together. Are you always going to be nervous even after you find yourself a boyfriend?”

When did he become so aware of the things you do?

“Sorry,” you tell him, shifting in your seat. “I’m not used to… all of this—clearly.”

He puts his menu down, eyes boring into your own. “Yes. It’s clearly evident that you’re not used to “all of this”, but we started this whole thing a while ago. I’ve been with you for a while, yet you’re still nervous as hell.” Yoongi leans forward, resting his arms on the table. “What are you going to be like during sex?”

You can feel the heat rise in your cheeks. “You, nor I don’t know what I’ll be like when that time comes,” you tell him in a defensive voice.

He only shakes his head. “I know exactly what you’ll be like when the time comes, Y/N. He’ll be ready and you’ll be rubbing your hands together, eyes avoiding, and voice so shaky he won’t even bother taking off his clothes.”

You try your best to hide the offended look that is clearly evident on your face. You can hear it in your tone as you reply, “You think you know me so well?”

“After spending time with you, yeah you’re pretty easy to read.”

You huff, “Fine. You want me to stop being nervous, then I will. What date is this—first, second?” Before he can answer, you add, “Well since we’re going back to your place it doesn’t really matter how many dates we’ve been on.” You get up from your seat, walking to his side and plop yourself at the edge, pushing him further into the booth. “Might as well get comfortable,” you say, practically staring daggers into him.

He only stares at you for a moment before leaning back in his seat. “Fine,” he replies, draping one arm around your shoulder and brings you closer to him. “Let’s see how long you last before you’re back to your old ways.”

“Fine,” you spit.

You’re not losing to him. You’re not going to give in and give him the satisfaction of knowing that you’re dying on the inside because everything he does is new to you. You’ve never gotten close to a man like you have with Yoongi, but he doesn’t seem to care, and there is no way you’re letting him run this whole thing.

For the rest of the date no words are really spoken between the two of you. You both are caught up in your hatred for one another that the whole date isn’t really a date. When the waiter comes by asking if you’re splitting the check, Yoongi says “no” before you can even reply. The check is set down and Yoongi places his card on top before the check disappears along with the waiter. Once again the two of you sit in heated silence until the man returns and gives Yoongi his card back.

“Have a great night,” the waiter says, a pleasant smile on his face.

You put on your best smile, wishing the man the same thing before turning forward and grabbing Yoongi’s hand. He looks down at your hands then looks up to you. You’re not looking at him, and he says nothing as he closes his hand around yours. Right now, if you weren’t so agitated, you would be trying to steady your heart. Your breathing, too.

Arriving at the dorms, you immediately get out of the vehicle when Yoongi parks it in his usual spot. You don’t give him much of an opportunity to say anything as you stomp your way to the stairs. You can see the huge group of partygoers from the window as you make your way up.

Happy, carefree people enjoying the party and mingling and hooking up like nothing. Those happy bastards.

You’re already down the hall and turning left into the stairwell to cross and get to your hall when you hear the door open from behind you. You don’t have to look back to know it’s Yoongi who just entered the building. When you pass the stairwell, you can hear laughter coming from the main floor. Seems like the MPR is full and people are now filling the lobby and halls.

You’re walking down your hall and it’s quieter than ever. It’s a bit strange since there’s some people who don’t socialize like you, yet they're not making a sound in their own room. Pulling out your key, you put it in the hole.

“Where are you going?” Yoongi calls, halfway down the hall. He’s a fast walker.

“I’m going to change,” you jeer, twisting the key and pushing open the door. “I’ll see you in a minute,” you tell him before entering your room and letting the door close behind you. After a few seconds, you hear the sound of his door opening and closing. “That stupid, full of himself, know-it-all jerk,” you grumble, tossing your bag on your bed as you begin to remove your clothes and shoes. “He doesn’t know me. I’m not easy to read.” Opening the dresser drawer that is under your bed, you pull out a peach colored shirt and gray plaid pajama pants. “He doesn’t know me,” you grumble, putting on your pants and shirt. Grabbing your keys and phone, you slip your feet into your slippers and leave your room, taking a few steps to your left and knocking on Yoongi’s door.

The door opens with him in different clothes; black sweats and dark blue shirt. He moves out of the way for you to enter, closing the door behind you. “Ready for this, sweetheart?” Yoongi asks in a mocking tone, walking past you and to his desk where he moves things around. Suddenly you’re fully aware as to what is about to happen. Your heart begins to race, palms become sweaty, and breathing uneven. He looks to you and you put on your best “fight me” look you can muster. You’re pretty sure it doesn’t look how you hope. “On the bed,” he commands, bobbing his head once to his bed next to you before he turns back to his desk.

You shuffle to his bed, eyes scanning the floor for a stepstool. You stand next to his bed in slight shock. He doesn’t have a stepstool? These beds aren’t to the height of your thigh or something, they’re slightly above your waist, to the curve of your body. How did you get into his bed last time? Wasn’t there a step stool or something you stood on to get on there? Your mind is running at the past memory, but you can't remember.

You let out a quiet sigh. You can do a run and jump, but you’d look stupid doing that and if you don’t make it. You’ll just have to do a stupid jump and pray. You put your hands on his mattress, bending your knees slightly before doing the biggest jump you can. There is no looking cool while getting on his bed—more like your upper half makes it and you’re already slipping. You swing your leg on the bed, pushing yourself up as hard as you can, but you’re not that strong and you didn’t have that run and jump like you wanted.

You’re about to give up but you feel a pair of hands on the back of your thigh and your waist, pushing you up on the bed. When you’ve finally got yourself situated, you feel your cheeks rising with heat as you let your slipper fall with the one that had fallen earlier. Pushing yourself further back on the bed, Yoongi jumps onto his bed with ease. He sits facing you, watching you as you turn to face him and cross your legs.

He holds a banana up to you. “This is what you’ll be practicing on,” he says.

You feel as if your soul has left your body. Not only did you forget the whole reason as to why you're here, but you feel relieved to be practicing on a fruit rather than the real thing. “Okay,” you answer. You take the banana holding it closer to the end. “W-what am I supposed to do?” you ask, a slight stuttering in your voice.

“Put your other hand at the base,” he instructs. You do as told, wrapping your hand around the middle of the banana. “Giving a handjob dry is not the way to go. Always find ways to get it wet so that it’s easier for both you and your partner.”

“Get it wet?”

“Your spit or lube,” he tells you in such a nonchalant way you almost choke on your own spit.

“Am I,” you begin, swallowing, “do I have to spit on this?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “I can give you lube if you want to know what it feels like.” You slowly nod your head, watching him as he turns his upper half to look behind him where his desk is. A few shuffling around sounds and he turns back to you holding a small black bottle. Holding it out towards the yellow fruit, he gives two squirts. The clear liquid is cold to the touch as it slides down to your hands. “From where your bottom hand is, that’s the end of the penis, using your other hand, spread the lube. Move your hand up and down.”

You release the base of the banana only to close your hand around it where the liquid covers it. You move up then down on the object, covering it in the cool goo. “Not that fast. When you first start off, build up the orgasm. Go slow and get him in the mood,” he informs you, placing his hand around yours and slowly moving your hand up and down. “Some men like it when you twist your hand.” He twists your grip around the item as you continue your movement.

“How do I know if they like it?” you can’t help but ask. This banana can’t talk, so he’s not sure if you’re doing anything right.

“The guy will moan, his breathing becomes heavy, he whispers in your ears, he’ll even tell you how he wants it,” he acknowledges, removing his hand from yours.

You look up to meet his eyes. “I don’t know if I’m doing this right, and when I do have a moment like this, I don’t know if he’ll stay long if I’m practicing on a banana,” you confess. Maybe it’s best not to do this. You’ll just have to go into this kind of moment blind.

“Would you rather practice on me?” he proposes, looking at you with such a straight face.

You freeze, your hand stopping at the top of the banana. “What?” you babble, tone confused.

He crosses his arms over his chest. “If you want to learn how to give a decent handjob on your first try, I’m offering myself. I wasn’t going to, but since you’re not nervous or anything.” You can hear his mocking tone. “I’m not forcing you. You can do this on your own when you have sex,” he adds.

“I can’t—how am I supposed to? Is this even part of the contract? Do you even want—I’m scared.” You can’t keep this tough girl act up anymore. You’re scared. Not scared of being forced; not scared of doing it wrong. You’re scared of doing this with him. You have feelings for Yoongi, and if you do this, who knows how this will end. You know your feelings will grow even more, but there is also something else telling you that doing this is a bad idea.

Yet you want to say yes. You want to know what it feels like to be one of those girls that pleases him. You want to know what it’s like to tip Min Yoongi over the edge.

You hate yourself for thinking that.

“I know I’m a dick,” he begins, grabbing the banana from your grip, “but I’m not going to force you, belittle you for not doing it, or tell everyone in this hall that you did if you want to. Whatever you decide, it stays in this room and never leaves.”

“Can you put on some music?” He nods, turning his back to you once again, a few dings ringing in the room as he grabs his phone next to him, looking through it for a second before a soft beat plays from a speaker on his desk. He looks to you, waiting. “How do you get into the mood?”

“Would you like to go first?” he inquires.

“Go first?”

“I’ll get you into the mood first before you do practice.”

You’re quiet for a moment, the beat getting a bit louder and faster. “Okay,” you say in a low voice.

He nods, getting on his knees. He taps on the bed in front of him a few times. “Come closer.” You hesitantly scoot closer to him, your knees almost touching his. “Close your eyes.” When you don't close them, he says, “Trust me. If you don’t like it, just tell me and I’ll stop.”

You close your eyes, your briskly beating heart filling your ears. Suddenly, you feel his hands on your cheeks, soft and smooth. You keep still as you feel his thumbs brush along your lips, sending a chill down your body. He runs a finger down your neck. Then his hands are on your shoulders, pushing you down on your back. You do as instructed, feeling him place himself between your legs.

“I’m going to touch you, okay?” he says, waiting for your response.

You take in a deep, shaky breath as you say, “Okay.”

You feel his hands again, touching your waist. His fingers go under your shirt, touching your skin. You shiver, feeling his hand slide further up until he’s close to your bra, but not close enough. His hands come back down to your waist.

“Do you want me to continue?” You nod in response, eyes still close. He grabs the band of your pants and begins to pull them down. You begin to shake a bit. “Are you sure?”

“I’m just nervous,” you tell him. You’re a little excited and curious as to what he’s going to do. “You’re not going to…” you trail off.

“I’m not going to have sex with you if that’s what you’re asking,” he notifies, lowering your pants even further and finally removes them.

You can’t help but close your legs. Yoongi says nothing as his hands brush along your thighs. As if his hands have a magic touch to them, you feel your legs opening for him, letting his hands roam in between your thighs. You let out a shaky sigh. Oh so suddenly you feel his finger run down your clothed womanhood and your body can’t help but jerk. Feeling a shift in the bed, his hands grab your under your thighs close to your behind.

“Move down more,” he guides, pulling you closer to him. You move down feeling the edge of the bed with your feet. “Lift up a bit.” He taps your leg. When your lower half is up, you feel your underwear being removed.

He said he isn’t going to have sex with you. He said he isn’t, you say in your head, refusing to open your eyes to see what it is that he’s doing.

It’s sudden and strange, but you feel something wet and warm run along your walls. It happens again, the strange object touching your bud and causing you to inhale. You can’t help but open your eyes. Looking to the closet mirror on the other side of the room, you see Yoongi standing at the end of the bed, his head in between your thighs.

You watch in complete shock. You can’t see what he’s doing with your thigh blocking his head, and his hands wrapped around them, keeping you from moving. Ari tells you stories, and after hearing so many, you know what’s happening.

“Having someone eat you out is amazing,” Ari once told you.

Is this what it feels like? It’s strange. There’s no pleasure; your thighs aren’t closing shut from the pleasure. You feel weird having something move up and down between your legs.

You let out a sudden moan when he is no longer licking, but sucking. He isn’t hard or soft as he absorbs your bead, he knows exactly what he’s doing. He runs his tongue along your jewel, making his way down between your walls once again and it’s like a whole new feeling. It isn’t strange anymore, it isn’t uncomfortable. It’s a sensation that is ten times better than when you had your moment in the bathroom. He swirls his tongue, bites at your lips, and brings his thumb to your bean moving it up and down.

You arch your back, trying your best to let out small, quiet moans, but it feels so good you can’t keep still. You clutch the sheets, covering your mouth and eyes as you feel that familiar high. Your moans are a bit louder as your legs are forced to stay open when all they want to do is shut close.

“Yoongi,” you moan, feeling the high reach its peak before bursting. He doesn’t stop as he continues his swirls, helping you ride out your second orgasm. You collapse onto his bed, watching him from the mirror as he grabs the towel off his chair and wipe his face before wiping your now sensitive area.

He looks to the mirror as well, meeting your eyes. “Do you want to continue or are you done?” HIs expression is blank and you wonder if he wants to continue. Maybe he just wants you to leave. You’ll feel bad if you leave. The whole point of this is to learn how to make a guy feel good, and you’re the only one who enjoyed it.

“I want to learn if that’s okay with you,” you answer, sitting up on the bed.

Yoongi climbs onto the bed, crawling past you until he is sitting against the wall at the head of the bed. You turn around to face him. “You’ll be doing everything,” he says, looking down at his pants then back at you. Taking the hint you get between his legs and slowly reach for his sweats. He lifts himself enough for you to pull down both his pants and boxers. Your eyes widen at his member. It looks big to you, but you don’t know how big a penis usually is, yet that isn’t the only thing that shocks you. It’s hard. He got horny from what he did to you.

You feel a little proud to be able to do that. Then again, maybe it’s natural for a guy to feel that way when pleasing a woman.

“Grab the lube next to you and squirt two pumps like I showed you,” he advises. Grabbing the bottle, you bring it close to him doing two pumps and watch it fall and slide down his length. You put the bottle down and reach for it, wrapping your hand around him. It’s warm and hard. Remembering what Yoongi taught you earlier, you slowly move your hand up and down his shaft. You continue to pump when you suddenly hear quiet pants coming from Yoongi. You look up at him watching as his chest rises and fall, sweat forming on his forehead. “Move your wrists.” You twist your wrists like he showed. “That’s it,” he rasps, nodding his head. “Go a bit faster.” He groans when you do so.

Is this what other girls see when they’re with him? Do they see a vulnerable man let himself not be in control as they please him? Do they get to hear his heavy breathing and deep voice when he tells you what to do? You feel your lower region tingle as you watch Yoongi lean his head back, eyes shut tight.

Something takes over you. Something new.

Without even thinking you release his girth and get on top of him. Ari’s story runs through your head as you press your core against his member. You move your body forward and back, feeling his shaft along your inner walls.

“Fuck,” he says under his breath, grabbing your hips and pushing you to move even faster against him. You already feel your build up as you move even faster, hands pressing against the wall behind him. You let yourself enjoy the feeling of being on top of him as you continue to ride him, feeling as high as you can as white dots begin to take over your vision. Your body jerks as you ride out your high. Yoongi continues to pull you back and forth before he reaches his own nirvana.

The two of you stay like that for a few moments. Coming off your ecstasy and coming to realize what you did. You’re embarrassed as you try to think of what to say. He doesn’t say anything as he keeps his eyes closed. “I need to use your restroom,” you say, breaking the silence as you get off him and the bed, grabbing your underwear and pants before quickly walking into the bathroom.

Everything is ruined. You ruined everything by agreeing to do this. He’ll look at you like you’re another girl he sleeps with. You’ll never find someone to fall in love with—

The sound of the room door opens. “What are you doing here?” Yoongi asks, voice muffled. You quickly slip on your clothes and press your ear against the door.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you when I saw you at the party,” a female voice says.

“Why are you here?” Yoongi asks again with agitation.

“I want to apologize and hope we can—” the voice gets cut off by Yoongi.

“You should go.”

There’s a brief moment of silence before the girl asks, “Are you still sleeping with random girls?” When Yoongi says nothing, the woman adds with a sigh, “Yoongi.”

“Now is not the time, and you should go, Sam.”

Your eyes widen, body frozen still. Sam, the strawberry blonde girl you played beer pong with comes to mind.

194 notes · View notes

allthingskakashi · 4 years ago

Note

6. you look really cute in that sweater. ← made me feel things

Fluff prompt 6 : "You look really cute in that sweater."

• Knitted Heartstrings •

[ Kakashi x Reader] // 2.5k words

A/n : this title is meant to be cute but i think it just sounds grotesque

It had been a few weeks since winter had arrived at Konoha, bringing with itself a carriage full of moments, gift wrapped with warmth and joy to sprinkle all around. It brought cosy nights to be spent laughing by the fireplace with a loved one, in an icicled platter and first love blossoming in the first fall of snowflakes in a tiny snow globe.

Wherever the eye went, there were sheets and sheets of cotton white snow, shimmering in the sunlight like broken pieces of diamond. The small village looked ethereal.

For you, winter had always been special. There was something about the smell of snow that imbued your heart with hope, like any time now something magical would happen. Many scorned at the childish illusions that you knit inside your mind, dismissing it as a result of one too many Hallmark movies, but for you… the only melody that mattered was the one of your heart. And it said,

it was winter, and everything was magical.

You looked outside your window at the bustle of villagers on the street, wrapped up in cosy sweaters and colourful scarves. It was the first day of the Annual Winter Carnival, and even though it was barely 10 a.m., there was already a long line in front of the hot chocolate stand. Beyond the eager queue, you could see a line of small shops, each adorned with something different: winter clothing, holiday cards, Christmas decorations, plum cakes and pumpkin pies, you name it.

You adjusted your red scarf around your neck, putting on a pair of mittens as you smiled to yourself. It was a beautiful day outside and the festive spirit all around made the sun shine just a little brighter for you. Picking up your keys and wallet from the table, you headed for the door, crossing your nearly decorated Christmas tree on the way. The tall green tree was already bedecked in shining ornaments, colourful streamers and twinkling lights. The only thing it was missing was a tree topper and you made a mental note to pick one up from one of the ornament stalls that were sited around the town square.

You made your way towards the gleeful crowd far ahead, your boots drawing patterns along the soft snow as you went. The sapphire sky seemed to beam down upon your town, every storefront greeting the eyes with beautiful wreaths woven by flower shop workers and window displays of snowmen built by Academy children with styrofoam.

You spotted Gai in the distance, huddled up with Lee and Tenten, all of them holding what looked like mugs of cocoa in their hands. Despite the biting cold, Gai and Lee had on their usual green outfits, you noticed. All three of them waved as they saw you approaching and you waved back at one shivering and two fully unbothered figures.

As you looked around you could spot most of the Leaf shinobi. Some had even arrived from neighbouring villages as they always did at this time of year. Your eyes fell on Sakura and Ino laughing as they tried on funny hats at one of the garment stalls, and Kiba teaching Akamaru how to make a snow angel on the ground. Pretty much everyone was here, laughing, talking, enjoying themselves. Everyone other than…

Anyway.

Such sights of blithe happiness were scarce in the kind of world you lived in. Amidst missions, deaths and tragedies, you always had a black cloud looming over you at all times, following you everywhere you went. It came with the job, there was no way to escape it. But even then, at times like these, it almost felt as if you were a part of the normal world. As if the grains of food on your plate didn’t depend on taking lives.

Taking in the beautiful sights of early winter and humming to yourself as you continued scouring the surroundings, you stopped in front of one of the clothing stalls. It was a small one manned by a middle-aged woman but despite the smallness of the store, the collection of knitted sweaters it displayed caught your eye immediately.

There was one hanging at the back that had piqued your interest the most. It was a cream coloured piece with the image of a pug in a Christmas cap embroidered on it and the word “woof” sewn just above it. It was love at first sight and the knitted sweater was just hanging there, begging for you to come get it.

Stepping in to get a closer look, you requested the woman to get it down for you. You waited as she handed you the object of your admiration and as expected, the soft material melted into your hands. You ran your fingers along the embroidery, admiring the stitchwork and already imagining how perfect it’d be for a cold night in in your pajamas with a nice book and a box of cookies.

You asked if you could try it on, and as the woman nodded in permission, you put the sweater over your head, hastily slipping into it. But in your hurry, you had somehow mixed up the neck and the sleeves, causing you to find yourself in a tangled mess with your head inside the sweater and your eyesight fully obstructed.

You struggled to untwine yourself, squirming and wiggling as you tried to differentiate the damn neck from the arm holes. You knew you looked like an absolute klutz, you even heard some giggles from a passing group of children that you were pretty sure was directed at you, but you were almost getting out of breath and your hair was starting to stick into your mouth, so you decided to put your focus on getting yourself out first and your dignity afterwards. You heard the woman’s voice beside you offering to help and you were just about to take her up on it when you finally managed to slip through, panting as you caught your breath.

You smoothened out the sweater with your hands, before reaching up to sweep away several strands of your now tousled hair, when suddenly your eyes fell upon the tall figure in front of you, leaning against the stall with a book in his hand.

The sudden sight gave you a scare that almost made you jump as you let out a surprised squeak.

“Kakashi!?”

Your widened eyes fixed on his face, meeting his placid gaze as you watched Kakashi’s mouth stretch into a smirk.

“15 seconds.” he stated in a flat yet chaffing tone.

You furrowed your brows at him, voicing your confusion. “Huh?”

“You got out of that 15 seconds faster that I’d expected you to”, he replied, as you felt your cheeks getting warm with embarrassment.

Not only had he been here watching you make a complete fool of yourself, he had also been revelling in it.

That dingus.

But you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered, so you settled to play defensive instead.

“And in all your seconds of standing there and watching, did you at any point consider offering to help?” you said, sparing him a narrowed glance.

“Nope” Kakashi replied instantly, the smirk intact on his lips as you rolled your eyes, feeling your own irrepressible smile get the better of you.

Meanwhile, the shop lady pulled a mirror out from the back and placed it before you. You situated yourself in front of it, stepping back to take a look at yourself. You could feel Kakashi still standing there, his eyes on you, peering at you over his book and your stomach churned and flipped inside your body.

This was…new.

Kakashi and you went way back… but minus the friendly greetings and conversations at certain social gatherings, there hadn’t been much interaction between the two of you. Mostly because both of you usually preferred to keep to yourselves. All that, however, changed after you were sent on a recent tailing mission together.

The mission was primarily supposed to last a week, but due to certain complications, you ended up having to be away for over a month. You were both asked to lead the team, and working so close together required many nights to be spent discussing strategies and team formations. You spent more nights in each other’s company, drawing maps and going over plans than you spent sleeping; just the two of you under the wide black sky, awake in the silence of the night with nothing but the whisper of crickets to interrupt you. And in some of these times, your conversations slipped beyond strategic discussions, delving deeper into the kind of territories that required the dark of the night to be revealed.

It wasn’t something you’d ever seen coming, talking to the copy ninja, really talking, but it had happened nonetheless. And when it had, it felt like the most natural thing the world. Like dipping your toes into the pool on a hot summer day.

Even though neither of you had fully bared your souls to each other yet, he was quite easy to talk to and you had come to realise that you had more in common that you would ever have guessed. And that beneath his serene exterior, Kakashi hid a tide of emotions.

Of course, it wasn’t all hefty talk. You had a good laugh the time he told you how the scar on his right arm, which people assume to be the result of a valiant battle is not from a battle at all but a rather embarrassing kitchen mishap. And this other time you had a heated debate about how miso ramen is definitely NOT better than shoyu ramen. The debate ended up in a draw but sitting with him in the glowing twilight, talking about nothing and everything… it made you feel some kind of way.

And then of course, there was that one night. One moment which had stuck out to you the most, amidst all others.

It was just another tiresome day, and you had taken refuge in the woods for the night. Almost everyone in your team had suffered mild injuries, including yourself. You had gone up to Kakashi to ask for a bandage for your sprained wrist since your own med kit was devoid of one and then…instead of simply handing over the bandage to you, Kakashi had taken your hand in his and wordlessly wrapped it around your palm. And for some reason, something about that one moment had stirred something inside you. Kakashi hadn’t made a big show of it, no, it didn’t even feel anything out of the ordinary. But the way he had gently held your wrist in one hand as he carefully bandaged it with the other had made you short of breath. No one had ever shown such gentleness towards you before, not in that way.

And even though nothing had really happened between the two of you yet, ever since that mission things didn’t remain quite the same anymore. The silences became thicker, the glances lingering. Chance encounters became deliberate and every conversation turned to memorabilia. There seemed to be this unspoken attraction, a spark that lit up like firecrackers every time you came in each other’s vicinity.

So yes, all of this was rather new and you weren’t quite sure how to deal with it yet.

Keeping your mind from reminiscing any further and pulling it away from your churning stomach, you glanced at your reflection in front you. The sweater did fit you perfectly but disappointingly enough, it didn’t look quite as good as you’d hoped it would, and suddenly you weren’t so sure of your choice anymore.

Kakashi’s eyes were still on you, registering your frown, and it was as if you could feel his gaze tear through your bones, pulling away all your layers. It was unnerving and you cleared your throat, breaking the silence.

“So, what are you doing here, anyway?” you called out, your eyes still fixated on your reflection as you turned to catch glances of yourself from various angles. “Didn’t take you for much of a carnival kinda guy.”

You saw him smile out of the corner of your eye as he straightened up, coming around lazily to stand behind you.

“I’m full of surprises”, Kakashi shrugged, enunciating every word as his figure towered over yours, the warmth of his body almost tangible to you.

His sudden closeness to you made your breath catch at the back of your throat and you struggled to maintain your composure, staring straight ahead at your reflection to keep your gaze from meeting his, which you knew would be just enough to send your heart hammering.

The moments seemed to freeze as the both of you remained standing, both pairs of eyes fixated on the mirror as air around you started to take a life of its own. You thought you would almost lose your mind when Kakashi’s words finally broke the rippling silence.

“You look really cute in that sweater.”

His words, so arbitrary yet soft hung in the air between you as you felt your heart grow vicious in your chest. You could feel it thrashing inside you, pounding so hard you were scared even Kakashi would be able to hear it. You knew your cheeks were about the same colour as a ripe cherry and you felt your mouth twitching with words that you couldn’t form.

You looked up slowly into the mirror and found the reflection of Kakashi’s eyes, waiting to meet yours. Even through the glass, his gaze burnt with an emotion that almost frightened you.

“You uh- you think so?” you heard yourself stutter, that sweater in the mirror suddenly looking like the most beautiful thing you’ve ever worn. You turned around a few more times, running your hand along the soft fabric again. “well uh I guess it’s not…bad” you said, your voice coming out more nervous than you would’ve liked it to.

Kakashi grinned, moving from behind you and starting to walk away as you pulled the sweater up, getting ready to take it back off. Thankfully for you, it came off this time without requiring any excessive wiggling.

You watched Kakashi’s slightly hunched figure walk away in the other direction, before stopping to turn back around at you.

“So, are you going to take that?” he called, a tease to his tone as he stood holding his book in one hand, the other warm inside his pocket.

“Maybe. I’m still deciding” you called back in the same tone as you watched him smirk, before being faced with his back again as he turned away slowly, walking ahead with his book open in front of him.

You watched him go, wondering if he would turn around again, but he didn’t and his striking silver hair disappeared from view as he became one with the crowd. You turned to the lady in front of you, the sweater hung over your arm as you struggled to hold the grin that threatened to erupt any time now. For some reason, the sweater in your hands didn’t feel like a piece of cloth anymore but something that had your heartstrings sewn amidst its threads.

You folded the soft fabric carefully, making it into a neat ball before holding it out to the lady with both hands, grinning at her.

“How much will this be?”

320 notes · View notes

lastxviolet · 4 years ago

Text

In Neglected Fields, the Fern Grows - Ch. 4

Fred Weasley x OC

5,067k

Chapter 4 / 10

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Slight Dom!Fred, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, masturbation (m), unprotected sex, cursing, mentions of death

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13829826/1/In-Neglected-Fields-the-Fern-Grows

_____________________

"Come here," Fred growled, gripping the back of her neck.

His teeth made contact with her pulse point and she gasped quietly. Her heart pounded in her ears so loud she couldn't hear the creaks and groans of the castle around them. Only Fred's labored breathing against her neck and how much adrenaline was pumping through her veins were audible.

He slid his tongue down her chest, moving her robe as he continued downwards and then dropped to his knees. She frantically looked down and almost panicked about doing this on the floor but stopped as Fred's tongue slid desperately between her legs.

She twitched and gasped against the wall from shock and pleasure.

"Open your legs," he commanded in a silky voice.

She did as she was told and he wasted no time finding her throbbing core.

"Fred," she moaned, gripping his hair, coaxing him closer.

He chuckled and licked her slowly; agonizingly. "Such a good girl for me."

The words sent fire through her veins. This is what she had missed by pushing him away last week. She'd never felt so stupid in her life as she parted her legs further, hoping for more rewards.

Fred gorged himself on her like he hadn't had a meal in years. All the boys before had stirred a tingle or buzz within her. Their touches had been uncoordinated, and purely for their own pleasure. Their fingers went where they wanted, and their tongue only graced the parts of her that they wanted to taste.

But Fred; he was calculated in making her body burn. His lips brushed the most intimate parts of her with adoration and meticulous attention. He responded to each of her sounds with enthusiasm and attacked the places that made her writhe as if he was trying to win some prize. He worked her slow and then quick, alternating between giving her exactly what she wanted and then withholding it. It was maddening bliss. She glanced down and watched as he mirrored the movements of his tongue with the frantic pumping of his hand. The sight nearly threw her over the edge.

"Please," she moaned.

A smile played on his lips as he looked up at her, letting his thumb continue his work slowly, not giving her the chance to reach her peak before they could climb together. Normally, giving him such satisfaction would drive her insane, but for some reason, she didn't mind being putty in his hands.

"Please, what," he whispered, kissing her hipbones.

All she could do was moan, over and over as he gorgeously stroked her. His abilities were a surprise but his talent for teasing was not.

"Don't whine, Fern. I need you to use your words."

"Fuck me," she begged. "Please, fuck me…oh fuck."

He chuckled darkly and rubbed her clit a few more times. Unbelievably, she would've begged more, and more until her throat was raw but he obliged her and began kissing up her stomach. He stopped teasing then, fully standing to pin her against the wall. His erection dug into her stomach, it alone, made her ache.

"Don't move," he whispered, hooking his arm underneath her leg, and pressing it against the wall, to open her up.

They moaned in tandem as he bucked forward and teased her slit with the head of his shaft. He leaned forward and groaned into her chest to keep from pushing into her fully.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she panted.

"Good girls shouldn't say things like that," he cooed, teasing her entrance.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, too drunk on the feeling of him kissing her neck to really focus on giving a coherent answer.

"Maybe you aren't a good girl, then," he teased.

"M'not," she moaned.

He stopped moving then and loomed over her, coming so close to her face that she wondered if he was going to kiss her.

"What are you?"

"Whore," she moaned, moving her hips against the tip of him.

"Wrong answer, Fern."

She searched his expression for the right answer but it only took seconds to see the territorial, and possessive glimmer in his eye.

"Yours…I'm yours — Fred please."

He groaned and bit at her collarbone. "Fuck," he sighed. "Mine. You're mine."

Slowly, the large redhead began pressing himself through her folds. She gasped and braced her hands against his shoulders. He was much larger than anyone else she'd been with. It stung like it was her first time but as he bottomed out inside of her, he hit something she hadn't even known was there. They moaned quietly in tandem as he pulled out and plunged into her again, faster this time.

"Fucking hell," Fred moaned, grabbing her wrists and pressing them against the wall above her head.

"Keep. Your. Hands. There," he commanded with each stroke.

Surely, she looked messy and desperate but for some reason, she liked it. She liked having him smugly in control of her, especially when he'd let her pretend to be in control earlier. The little game made her skin burn and body twitch. He wanted to touch her, tell her what to do, reward her for being good. She felt wanted in a way that was utterly animalistic and unescapable.

"Open your mouth," he commanded.

She did as she was told, gladly sticking her tongue out like she had when he'd put his thumb in her mouth. He seemed to like that image because he released her wrists and hastily grabbed her neck.

She kept eye contact and moaned when he pressed his thumb against her tongue again. Feeling bold, she wrapped her lips around the long finger and sucked on it, swirling her tongue around the top as if it was him. He hissed and pumped into her faster.

"You look so pretty with my finger in your mouth, Fern," he purred between labored breaths.

She went slack-jawed as he filled her up over and over again in an unrelenting rhythm. He slid his thumb to the back of her throat and let drool slide down her chin.

"Fuck, I could look at you like this forever," he sighed.

He thrust into her frantically. A moan ripped through her chest as the thumb on her tongue slid down her body and began toying wither her clit.

Despite coming undone himself, Fred chuckled and kissed her chin, absorbing her failed attempts at keeping quiet. "And I thought you didn't like me."

"I don't," she gasped. "But choke me when I cum."

"Fuck," he groaned, furrowing his brow with concentration.

Five more thrusts and she was shaking underneath him.

Her orgasm ripped through her body, intense and hungry for every ounce of control that she had left. Long, strong fingers wrapped around her throat, as requested, and squeezed just enough to give her a taste of oblivion.

The world went dark except for excruciating pleasure pricking every nerve in her body. There weren't words to describe it and she couldn't tell if Fred being the one to give her otherworldly leisure was a good or bad thing.

She was briefly aware of Fred's own orgasm filling her up and seeping from between her legs as she basked in the glow of the high and then begrudgingly came back to reality.

Her surroundings came back into focus and Fred's grip on her loosened. She blinked slowly and leaned her bodyweight fully against the wall. All her energy had been spent but Fred didn't seem to particularly care, or agree.

He looked at her hungrily, like one round wasn't enough. Despite their aversion to intimacy, he brought their forehands together. His mouth twitched and she wasn't sure if he was going to speak or try and kiss her. Would she let him? She half thought of kissing him first or perhaps begging him to lick himself off of the inside of her thighs but a voice down the hall ripped her from the idea.

They jumped and stared at each other wide-eyed and panicked.

Not another fucking detention, she thought.

He placed her leg back on the floor and zipped his pants before ducking out of the alcove to take in the impending doom.

"Fuck," she hissed, pulling her robe tight and picking her clothes up from the floor.

They peeked around the corner together, assessing how much time they had until the prefects entered the corridor.

"Come on," Fred whispered suddenly, wrapping his hand around her wrist and tugging her along behind him.

She had no time to assess the distance or come up with a plan before Fred sprinted down the hall, around the corner, and to a tapestry hanging on the wall. She nearly yelled at him about his terrible hiding spot choice but he surprised her, and lifted it, to reveal an odd-looking door she didn't recognize. To her surprised, it opened with ease, and he led her through the threshold, into a dark hall.

She hissed at him to slow down but besides the tight grip on her hand, he didn't even look like he remembered she was there. He hastily led her up a rickety wooden staircase, through another door at the back of a classroom, and then suddenly, she was at the entrance to the Ravenclaw tower.

She blinked and then did a double-take. By the time her mind registered what had happened, Fred was already walking away.

"How did you do that," she whispered, still staring in awe at her front door.

"Are you going to invite me in," he asked from behind her.

She spun around to stare at the smug wizard who was already halfway through another secret door.

"Not a chance in hell, you twat," she hissed.

"Till next time, then, darling," he cooed, shooting her a wink.

"There won't be — "

But the wooden door slammed closed and she was left alone in the dark hallway.

Her lips didn't stop tingling for nearly a week.

Classes were a blur. Evenings in the library were spent watching her back for Fred to appear through a hidden entrance. Meals became stressful hours, avoiding his intense gaze. Daisy considered sending her to the infirmary but she kept brushing her off, citing that stress about exams before Christmas break was to blame.

Despite her best efforts, it seemed that no matter where she turned or hid, he appeared out of nowhere. When she sat at the Ravenclaw table, his eyes were already attached to her. If she was going down a set of stairs, he was coming up, watching her all the way. If she was walking out of a classroom, he was waiting for someone else, or on his way in. The worst part was that despite becoming her shadow, he always kept his distance and didn't say a word.

She thought that maybe he wanted to keep their psychotic game of cat and mouse going but she sure as hell wasn't going to ask him. She'd seen how he attached himself to girls before, and even though this looked different, felt different, she hated him and was not going to become some hopeless romantic because of a little attention.

He could have her regret, but that was it.

Regret.

He seemed infatuated or at least intrigued but all she could feel was deep, burning, regret.

Part of her wished she would've told him to bugger off last week. The other part, however, wanted to succumb to their standoff first, break into the Gryffindor dorms and throw herself at the insatiable redhead.

Fern stared at her reflection in the Ravenclaw common room windows, watching the sunset over the black lake. The red hue on her cheeks became visible, even bounced off of the glass and tore her away from the lustful thoughts.

She pressed her forehead against the cool glass.

Why him, of all people?

Why did it have to be him?

Smug. Arrogant. Annoying.

She glanced over her shoulder and around the common room.

There were half a dozen boys in her own house that were good-looking, handsome even, and yet, utterly uninspiring.

The images of Fred with his hands up her robe morphed into the other options.

Clumsy. Apathetic. Rubbish.

They'd call her sweet names and chase her pleasure well enough but she craved more.

Passion, she realized. It was his passion. And possessiveness.

He didn't just want sex, he wanted her.

On his knees in a hall like a devotee in front of a prophet.

A mortal at the fountain of youth.

Saints at the gates of heaven.

Her face grew hot again.

Thankfully no one noticed.

Laughter erupted around her, making her jump. She turned to glare but other studying upperclassmen quieted the group of giggling first years before she even got the chance. Their faces grew disgruntled and upset, but they'd get used to the shrewdness eventually.

Other common rooms she'd been in were bustling and or at least had an air of relaxation about them, even Slytherin. But here, in the pinnacle of knowledge and learning, with certitude and plenty of stubbornness, friendliness was hard to come by. It wasn't their fault, of course, they'd been indoctrinated into a house known for intelligence and then pit against each other for top of the class, prefect positions, and house points. The situation bred competitiveness, and so, distrust thrived. Ravenclaws cultivated their friendships behind closed doors where alliances were not so obvious and couldn't be weaponized. She didn't mind though. It just meant that, unlike other common room spaces, she was relatively safe from confrontation and socializing out here in the open.

She watched the first years continue to glare around the room and then scanned it herself. There seemed to be nothing exciting going on, so she collected her abandoned homework and almost resigned to her room for the evening when two quiet voices pulled at her ear.

Padma and Mandy, huddled close and whispering, walked swiftly towards the girl's dormitories. They didn't notice her lurking on the sill so she leaned over as they passed, just coming close enough to make out the words, "meeting," and "tomorrow." Her heart leaped at the reminder of the seventh-floor mystery. Her run-ins with a certain annoying redhead had nearly wiped her memory clean of the real problem at hand - Neville.

She stared at her reflection once more, debating on whether or not she should try to figure out what was going on once and for all. He'd told her that she wasn't welcome but…that had never stopped her before.

The girls shut the dorm doors but Fern was hot on their trail, having made her mind up.

"Mandy," she hissed before they made it into their room.

The girls turned around, sporting their usual exuberant smiles. When they graduated, the energy levels in Ravenclaw would diminish by at least 50%.

"Hi, Fern," they sang in unison.

She greeted them pleasantly, hoping their guards were down. Besides the Weasley twins, they were the only ones she knew who might have a clue about what Neville was up to. This was her only shot.

"Sorry to do this out in the open," she whispered, gaining more invested looks. "But Nev forgot to tell me what time we were all meeting tomorrow."

She held her breath, waiting for their skepticism, rejection, accusation, or anything that would thwart her risky plan. She realized in the few seconds that it took for either girl to speak, that she hadn't thought this through at all and was a complete and total idiot.

"What," Mandy breathed, looking quite shocked.

If it was a harmless study group then there was no harm done, but if it was something else, actually worth her skepticism, then she had to at least try.

"Well he only just told me that I should…join you all but —I mean you know him, of course, he forgot to tell me the time."

Shock dissolved to joy and then it was her turn to be surprised by their blinding smiles and bright eyes.

"You're really going join," Padma chirped excitedly.

Fern nodded, eyeing them critically, and wondering what she'd gotten herself into.

Padma leaned forward and shook her shoulder. "Neville was so sure you'd hate him for being a part of it. How daft!"

Her mind worked over the few, vague choices she had remaining.

"Well…it seemed like the right thing to do," she responded with confidence. "And he asked so…"

"Bloody hell, Nev was honestly at his whits end about it — "

Mandy shushed her friend. "Oh never mind that! Welcome, welcome!"

Fern nodded and smiled, hoping for more information.

"I can't say it's terribly fun, realizing how ill-prepared we are to fight Death Eaters and all that but Harry's a great teacher!"

Her jaw clicked and her vision was red with fury.

Idiots.

"Do you remember what we're working on tomorrow," Mandy asked, turning to Padma.

"Levicorpus? I don't know, something that'll scare the shit out of everyone."

"Like always," Mandy responded, nodding in thought. "But anyway, I think it's 6:30 in the evening."

Useless, unthinking, idiots.

"The usual place?" Fern's teeth slotted together sharply with a frustrated clack.

Mandy nodded. "It'll be brill to have you!"

They flitted into their room, talking happily about how much of a worrywart her brother was. And then she was alone in the corridor, staring out the blazing window at the end of the hall.

Worried for good reason she thought, turning on her heel and sprinting towards the Fat Lady.

Images of Neville in a hospital bed next to their parents plagued her thoughts as she crossed the castle. He'd told her it was nothing but he was in some sort of training camp for Potter's next mission. They'd been back at school for months and he never thought to mention that he was preparing to risk his life. Padma said he was afraid for her to know. She blinked back angry tears.

He was right to be afraid.

A group of Gryffindors was entering when she was a few feet away so she sped up and caught the portrait before it closed.

"Neville Longbottom," she yelled, stomping into the common room and looking around wildly.

A chorus of yells and shushing followed her but she didn't care. The auburn and yellow room was packed to the brim with wide-eyed Gryffindors. Good, she thought, someone will give him up.

She shoved a few kids out of the way but didn't see Neville's hunched posture or dark hair so she made a b-line for the boy's dormitory.

"Neville Longbottom," she yelled again, banging on the door.

"Bloody hell, woman. What are you screaming for?"

Of course.

Fred stood at the base of the stone steps behind her, looking annoyingly amused at her angry state. He'd watched her all week, so it was no surprise that he'd be present for her finest moment.

"Where is my brother," she hissed, stomping down towards him, unleashing hell.

"Have you hit your head?"

"Get out of my fucking way."

He did the opposite, of course, and crossed his arms before casually leaning against the stone threshold.

"You're a madwoman," he laughed.

Her hand shot out, reaching for any part of him she could grab. He didn't even try to move as she bunched the collar of his sweater into a fist.

"I was right about you," she spat, yanking him as hard as she could. "You're corrupting him. You and your fucking club."

His eyes went wide but she didn't have time to hear his response or even register his reaction when movement out of the corner of her eye drew all of her attention.

A dark-haired boy, clutching a plant rushed out from behind a column.

"Neville, get back here," she yelled again, shoving a gaping Fred out of the way.

Her brother darted for the portrait and made it down one flight of the moving stairs and into an empty sixth-floor hallway before she caught up with him.

"Astronomy homework?"

He turned and backed away into a wall, plastering a fake smile on his face.

"Oh, hi Fern," he stammered, avoiding eye contact.

"Were you ever going to tell me what you were really doing?"

The look on his face was of pure terror but she didn't care. He was going to get himself killed. She'd rather he be scared of her, than face the actual evils of the real world. Her fury was nothing compared to theirs.

"I…I…I was just waiting for the right time — I knew you'd be angry."

"Angry? I'm beyond that, Nev. I am fucking livid," she hissed, stepping closer.

"Oi!"

She whirled around, ready to hex whoever was interrupting the family moment. Fred appeared from the stairwell, jogging a little like her brother needed saving. How could he not see that she was saving Neville from him and his merry band of idiots?

"You," she raged. "Fuck off."

He stopped in his tracks and threw his hands up in surrender. A smile played on his lips until he took in the look on her face, which was hopefully radiating pure murder.

"Fern, don't do this here — "

"You have done enough," she snarled. "Leave."

He took a step closer, glancing around for an audience.

"Listen, just pipe down and — "

"FUCK OFF!"

Fred stumbled back a bit and shot a questionable look at Neville over her shoulder.

"It's fine," her brother whispered, waving his friend off.

The redhead shot her another pleading look but she turned around before he took the chance to open his meddling mouth again and waited until she heard his retreating footsteps to continue.

"Death Eaters? Have you gone mad?"

Neville's face grew bright red. "I was going to tell you…"

"Tell. Me. Now."

She felt terrible but her shy little brother folded immediately. He told her about the return of you-know-who, Harry Potters's paranoia, and the group's gripe with Defense Against the Dark Arts and Umbridge. It was a task and a half but she stayed quiet when he told her about everyone involved and how often they practiced forbidden hexes and spells. He didn't look her in the eye until the story was finished, and she was seething.

"You're playing at war, Nev."

His eyes went wide and she knew they were in for a fight.

"We are practicing for war. Which is coming, by the way. Umbridge isn't teaching us anything, Fern so what do you expect me to do?"

"Go to classes and not get mixed up in Potter's scheme!"

"It's not a scheme, it's — it's something real."

"Yeah, real fucking stupid."

"I knew you wouldn't understand."

"Why? Because I value my life? Because I'm not willing to lie down in front of the first kid with a hero complex and a nice speech, who tells me that I can do something more?"

"Harry's not like that! He fought you-know-who last year and he says that — bad things will happen if we aren't prepared for what's coming. He's just trying to help."

"I don't doubt that but just because he wants to fight … doesn't mean you have to."

He hung his head again, going back to the sheepish boy she thought she knew. When did he start having dreams of glory?

"I don't have to but…I want to because we're a team — an army, so we'll fight together."

Neville looked back up, staring at her with anxious eyes and a broken expression but despite that, she could suddenly see the backbone of gold he'd developed somewhere in the last few years in Gryffindor.

"They can fight without you — they will fight without you because I forbid you to be any part of it."

It was harsh, controlling, and mean, all of the things he scolded her about, but this was about his safety, not her likability. If he was gold, she was fire.

"You — you can't do that. You're not my — "

"Not who," she interrupted harshly. "Not Mum?"

A tear fell and her anger finally boiled over.

"Where is your mum, Nev? Where is our mum?"

Neville glanced around the hall for help but there was no saving him. The next time she saw Potter, she was going to do the dark lord a favor and kill him herself.

"Oh that's right," she seethed. "She's half-dead in a hospital because she got mixed up in someone else's war. She chose fighting and glory over us — over family and if you want to do the same then fine. I look forward to holding your fucking hand when you're admitted to St. Mungo's right next to our brave mum and dad! Join the legacy of dead heroes for all I care —"

Her next words were knocked out of her mouth as strong arms swept her off of her feet.

"Alright, I think we've heard enough outta you," Fred bellowed, swinging her over his shoulder. "Time to calm down."

She fought to breathe as his shoulder made contact with her stomach.

"I told you to fuck off," she screeched, clawing at him to break free.

He instantly began walking and she could see them passing Neville in her peripheral.

"Longbottom, get outta here, I got her," Fred commanded, not loosening his grip, despite her struggle.

"Put me down, asshole!"

She heard Neville follow them for a moment to say "Don't be mad," and then scurry off towards safety.

Traitor.

Her blood boiled, bringing her beyond rationality, not that she had much left, to begin with. All she could do was snarl in response.

Fred didn't seem to care as he carried her through a threshold before setting her down inside of a dark, empty classroom.

Fuming, she shoved him against the closed door and screamed.

"GET OFF! Why can't anyone just listen to me? "

"Easy there, crazy," he mumbled, holding his hands up in surrender again.

His face was stoic but she could still see the faint smirk permanently stamped on his face behind the air of seriousness. It fueled her anger even more. He could take nothing seriously and now he was interfering with her family.

"I'm not fucking crazy. I just care about my little brother and you're getting in the way," she seethed, stalking away from him, deeper into the maze of desks, desperately looking for another exit.

"Why are you so upset," he called, somewhat accusingly. "Shouldn't you be proud? Following in footsteps or whatever."

Idiots, idiots, idiots. She whipped around to glare at the absolute idiot.

He was oblivious to risk because he was oblivious to suffering. Every foolhardy mission that Potter and the lot of them had attempted, had a happy ending, so far. They'd gotten lucky, but they were arrogant to think that fate would always be on their side. She'd thought that of all people, the boy who lived knew the possible consequences but apparently, he had nothing left to lose.

She'd kill him for gambling with her brother's life. Maybe she'd maim Fred just to drive home her point.

"Footsteps," she repeated quietly, moving to stand in front of him. "Like a cow to slaughter. He called you all an army, Fred!"

"Well, maybe we are," he shrugged.

"An army of children," she bellowed, showing his shoulder.

He rolled his eyes and towered over her, daring her to do it again.

"Not true, I'm 18," he smirked. "So is George."

"You're an imbecile," she sneered, moving towards the door.

He stepped in front of her and locked it.

"Takes one, darling," he laughed.

She threw her hands up in exasperation. "Don't call me that!"

"You are lashing out at me, Fern, but I'm not the reason you're angry," he scolded, suddenly more serious than she'd ever seen him.

"Aren't you? You're just letting it happen! You could've talked Potter out of it or put your foot down as the only adult in the room, but no! You chose to go along with the delusions of a 15-year-old, so congrats, your complacency is going to get children killed by the most prolific killer of all time."

He looked taken aback for a moment and then anger burst behind his amber eyes. She didn't flinch when he lunged forward to get in her face.

"What would you have us do? Nothing? You know what's out there Fern, better than anyone! Bloody hell, I — I mean I always thought that at least one of you Longbottom's had your parent's bravery but I never thought it'd end up being Neville!"

"Don't talk about my parents, and don't call me a coward!"

"Then stop being one," he roared. "For as long as I have known you, you've been a bossy, antagonizing, contrarian. You'll stare down me, George, Malfoy, professors, anyone who crosses you! I've never even seen you pause before launching an attack! What's different about this?"

She backed away from him, not out of fear or offense but because she could feel the heat radiating off of him, and it was suddenly too much of a reminder about his hands on her body, and his mouth between her legs.

"Bloody hell, are you hearing yourself," she groaned. "The difference is that I don't share your death wish! If you want to sacrifice yourself and your whole family to you-know-who, then that is your fucking business but I won't let you put my brother in harm's way!"

"Sacrifice my family," he repeated, dumbfounded and angry.

"Yes," she spat. "Some big brother you are, sending them to an early grave."

His nostrils flared and he brought them closer together.

"Watch your fucking mouth," Fred hissed.

Her heart nearly beat out of her chest. His bared teeth were so close, she thought that if she had less of a backbone, she might've swooned.

They were screaming about death, family, and dignity so — why did she want to kiss him?

"Don't fucking curse at me, asshole!"

Why did she want to kill him?

He stepped closer. "If you weren't such a fucking bitch — "

She supposed he deserved it but there was still a pang of guilt as her hand made contact with his cheekbone. It was strangely smooth, and cold, almost like marble. She thought he'd back away or clutch his face and yell but he didn't give her a moment to continue the thought before grabbing both her wrists and pinning her to the top of a desk.

#fred weasley x oc #fred weasley smut #fred weasley #fredweasley #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fanfic #weasley smut #weasley fanfiction #weasley twins #weasley twin fanfic

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charmspoint · 3 years ago

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how was it ^-^

Let's seee. It was good, perfectly enjoyable, it reads fast and i was never really bored with it. I'd give most chapters like a 7/10 and then chapters 71-82 like 8 or 9/10 and then back to like 7/10 and the ending was weird but also kinda sweet in its own way.

Now to preface anything else: This isn't my type of manga. I can easily see it being a 10/10 for someone who really likes fight scenes and death and gore and what not. I'm not really into that, I'm a character and story driven person which is why the manga as a whole scored as just goodish to me while chapters 71-82 which kinda make a lot of emotional and psychological aspects of the chapters before them come to culmination scored a lot better. You know I don't GET fights. Chainsaw man was very gory but I didn't even really register it. Like because of all the gore I feel I heard people say it has horror aspects but I never really felt scared or off put or anything. It was just kinda like 'oh a lot of people are in pieces rn, okay, that's a thing that's happening'. So yeah that's why the score is the way it is, it simply isn't a manga that focuses on things I like and that's perfectly alright. I couldn't buy into the hype like I did with jjk and I certently didn't feel 'oh this is the best thing ever' like I felt with witch hat atelier.

With all that out of the way let me talk long and hard about Denji and sexual aspects of the series in a surprisingly positive light:

I like Denji as a character. I think he's still a bit rough around the edges but he's not a character made for introspection so that's fine, you really kinda have to take what he says and how he acts and think about it because the author won't do it for you. That being said, I think Denji is probably the most compelling shonen protagonist I've read so far. Like when I read bnha or jjk I see Izuku and Yuji and I'm like 'this is a shonen protagonist'. They are a likable character but they won't be your favorite character. They are largely made for japanese high school boys to project themselves on and I'm not a japanese high school boy. That being said, Denji feels like a character of his own and not something meant to be projected on to. Honestly if anyone projected on to Denji I'd be worried about them. But that makes him probably the most compelling shonen protagonist I've ever read. You just wanna dig a shovel into his skull and go 'man kid ur fucked up'.

I know when you first read csm you were off put by Denji because it felt like a manga put a pervert character as a protag which is naturally off putting and I can 100% see that. Now be it because I was warned about it first or something else, I didn't actually find fanservice jarring at all. It kinda was integrated into the world in a way that made me think 'yeah of course it's like this'. This is a very grim and rough and drty world and things in it would be just like that. It is a story about base desires and sex is one of those. These are people who expect they will die any day now and Denji is a person who's just now getting to experience a somewhat decent standard of living. Here's a thing I noticed though: even as Denji thinks many sexual things (which, he's a teenager, that's normal) he's actually very respectful. I don't think I've ever seen him touch anyone without their permission, in fact i think things like that mostly happen to him. Like example how Power comes in just as Denji is in the middle of his 'i wanna touch some boobs' phase. You would almost expect that what happens next is we see him try to grope Power as she's sleeping or something. But no, he doesn't do a thing until she asks him to help her save her cat and he gets to touch her boobs for it. And it's like this with p much every other sexual encounter through the series. Both partners are consenting and getting something out of the whole thing. Sexual aspects are used as normal bartering chips in a world where your whole body is a bartering chip. It's normal and no one is forced into it. I've told you before that my biggest misgiving with fanservice is that it's often based on embarrassment and unwilling participation of the girls. Like fanservice isn't fanservice because you saw a boob it's fanservice because you saw a boob when you weren't supposed to, when the girl didn't want you, when she's angry or scared or embarrassed because you did. A lot of fanservice feels very much like taking something from the girl, debasing and humiliating her for the sake of watchers/readers satisfaction.

Despite all it's sexual jokes and themes and everything else Chainsaw man never once made me feel like that. It never once made me feel like the author expected me to gain sexual satisfaction out of debasement of female cast. Which is why even though boobs and naked women are literally all over the manga I didn't mind it at all. It stopped being fanservice and became just a natural part of characters lives as sexuality and sex is a natural part of real world.

Back to Denji.

So I mussed a bit about Denji and Maslow before but here it is in total

Denji is 16 years old and at the beginning of the series he's just starting to have his physiological and safety needs met. Like he doesn't live like a human being at the start of the series and Makima recruiting him is A BIG CHANGE for him. Like for a good while Denji is like 'Now I have three meals a day and a place to sleep at so I'm good with whatever'. He's given reliable sources to fulfil his needs and he's given a way to keep those sources stable. He has a job, it's not a good job but he has it. He has a place to live and a theoretical safety net. He's immortal so there's nothing to fear in the death and injury department which means the otherwise unsafe job is perfectly fine for him. Now what Denji gets stuck on through most of the series is Love and Belonging. Because you can't just give someone love like you can give them food (not that Makima doesn't try). People are more complicated. Compromises need to be made and human connections are hard to establish, especially if you are someone like Denji who has no idea how to interact with others aside from obeying orders. This is why his need for love and belonging first manifests as a sexual need (that and he's an allo teenager). Human connections are hard but sexual contact doesn't have to come tied with connections so it's easier (if unsatisfactory as Denji finds out with Power) to achieve. A lot of Denji's personal growth is tied to him finding out that this need can be fulfilled by other things alongside sex. This is why I love chapters 71-82 so much because they are really a culmination of Denji's emotional journey in that category. Along the way along with sexual love he finds romantic one. He wants to spend time with girls he likes, he wants them to like him beyond the sexual. Of course sexuality is always an aspect of it but after that scene with Power it's never the only thing. Human connection, understanding the other person, knowing them, loving them, making them happy. And it all culminates in the familial love he finds with Aki and Power, taking care of someone and being taken care of for no other reason than they are your family and you love them, you care for them, you want them to be well and happy. There's this scene with Power later on when they are taking a bath together and Denji is like 'huh we are both naked but it doesn't feel naughty at all'. He's stopped seeing Power sexually because he started to see her as his sister and it's just really nice, those few chapters we get to see them as a family are really nice.

By the end of the series Denji starts checking off the esteem box too, by people accepting him and loving him and him feeling like he wants to respond to that, but I feel like that aspect and possible self actualization will be more explored in part 2.

There you have it, my essay about why Denji is the most compelling Shonen protagonist I've ever read :)

Also I really liked the girls in this series, it really isn't afraid of letting it's female characters be weird and gross and in Makima's case just plain evil and I appreciate it for that. I just wish Quanxi got more time and things to do but she's a side character and it's not her fault she's cooler than the whole main cast (Power best girl tho).

I feel like I talked a lot already about what was my most important take away from the whole thing but yeah, in general: pretty entertaining read, would probably be a complete blast for someone who's invested in fights, a little thin on psychology and emotion for my tastes but when it delivers them it delivers them good.

Also I like how it basically ended on 'you should give people more hugs' it was cute

Additionally I think the authors idea to basically release manga in seasons like you would an anime is straight up genius I hope that more mangakas start picking this up because it allows them more rest in between big arcs.

Ok now that's it for real this time.

#megacarapa #lucy rants #csm #chainsaw man #character analysis fanservice discussion sex and sexuality dicussion this baby has it all

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tonkatsumu · 4 years ago

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back at one ✧ kita shinsuke

The five times Kita Shinsuke kisses you back and the one time he doesn't.

genre: fluff, angst towards the end

tw: major character death

wc: 1,700+

The first time you kiss Kita is a mistake.

It's lunchtime, and you're laughing as your friend is gushing over the new blonde setter from class 1-5. The day started off as a disaster, with you waking up late, resulting having to buy bread at the canteen because you forgot your lunch.

But nonetheless, it was just another one out of the 365 days of the year. Hectic. Noisy. Normal.

An average kiss lasts around 10 seconds— at least, that's what people claim to be their ideal. Of course, that depends from person to person, but you agreed with the majority in that matter. You like to imagine that, maybe someday, when you kiss someone for the first time, it'll be right around 10 seconds long—not too long, not too short—at the top of the ferris wheel, just as the sun is setting in the horizon.

What you don't realize, however, is that it takes a lot less than 10 seconds to completely shatter your ideals.

You're turning the corner of the hallway, not looking. Perhaps, if your friend didn't smack you while squealing; perhaps, if you weren't rushing this morning and remembered your bento; perhaps, if you had bothered to spare a second to glance at what's right in front you, today would have just been another normal day.

Your lips meet something soft, and it's one, two, three—maybe more, probably less—seconds later when you register what's happening.

That's how you first meet Kita Shinsuke, the usually quiet and reserved second-year, uncharacteristically blushing and profusely apologizing.

It takes less than 10 seconds to shatter your ideals, but in that same amount of time, you find yourself forming new ones.

—

The second isn't an accident.

You start to notice the quiet boy after that incident. He doesn't say much, but he always seems to be observing everything that happens around him. Forgetting your lunch was a thing of the past—you find yourself going to school earlier and earlier every day, hoping to catch a glimpse of him after morning practice.

You would thank the gods for that day, if you believed in them. But you don't, so instead you thank your friend for shoving you and talking your ear off about her crush. You thank your mom for not waking you up on time, and you go to class 1-5 and thank Atsumu Miya for being "so damn attractive" (your friend's words, not yours).

Not understanding, but unquestioning nonetheless, they brush it off with a chuckle and a confused 'you're welcome?'

It isn't long before you and Kita start talking, in the mornings between after-practice and first period, and he tells you that doing things properly just feels right.

"Let me make it up to you," he says, smiling in the way that you like to think you know so well.

You get a kiss—not the first, but assuredly, not the last. You're at the top of a hill, instead of a ferris wheel. The view is of Hyogo, drenched in the light of the moon, the city lights twinkling in both of your eyes, instead of the sunset setting in the horizon.

You realize that, maybe, it isn't the setting, but the person you're doing it with, that makes the kiss so ideal.

"Is this okay?" he asks.

"No," you pout, "Make it up to me some more."

Kita likes to do things properly, and the proper thing to do in this situation is comply. And so he does.

—

The third is a celebration.

Proud, you think, is the only word that can encapsulate what you feel as you look at him wearing the jacket with the number 1 on it.

"I'm happy," he says, squeezing your hand. To anyone, his face would be the perfect mask of indifference; but to you, to you, the slight tug of the corner of his right lip upward is evidence that indeed, his words ring true.

"You've done well," you smile, brushing a stray leaf from his shoulder. "Captain."

Kita stops walking, but says nothing. Silence is not uncommon between the two of you. Silence, you observed, can often carry more weight than any words ever can. And silence can make the words that are spoken mean so much more.

Looking at him, his eyes meeting yours—unflinching, unyielding. Confident, with a quiet determination to remain so. A chuckle escapes your lips, and you place your hands on his cheeks.

"I'm proud of you, Captain," you breathe against his lips.

"You are still..." he inches a millimeter closer, "...the greatest result of my efforts."

—

The fourth is a long time coming.

Kita's love was never loud, never ostentatious. It never drowned you, never deafened you; but you felt and heard it nonetheless in the gentle caress of a hand, in the whisper of a kiss, in the tea he prepares for you after a long day.

It dawns on you that his love wasn't like the sea, which could roar into a rage at heaven's command. It's more like...

The smell of tatami mats; the chiming of bells in your grandmother's house when the wind passes through them; the rice porridge that your mother used to make for you when you were sick.

In this ever-changing world, the things that bring you comfort remain unchanging, very much like the tenderness and warmth Kita carefully wraps you in every day.

"The whims of heaven and the gods are fleeting," he once said at five in the morning, just as the sun was starting to rise, just before the soil cried out to be toiled. "But not even its rage or glee could sway what I feel for you. This feeling is my own, and it is mine to nurture for the rest of my life."

You remember these words as Kita lifts your veil, eyes shining like the city lights of Hyogo that one night in high school at the top of the hill.

"Shin-chan?"

"What is it?" he whispers (for once, oblivious to the crowd watching).

"Maybe the gods aren't real." You place a hand on his cheek, "But if they were, I'd like to thank them for bringing me to you."

Everyone sees a girl in a white dress, and a boy, who sees only her when he thinks of the future. And a kiss, ten seconds long. Ideal, they think, as they look at you and Kita.

—

The fifth is for everyday.

You learn through the years the joy of routine, the satisfaction in doings things right. It's something that you see in Kita, who goes through the clockwork of every day life with a smile in his face, and a confidence that never wavered since the moment you met him.

Sometimes, you think, that you wouldn't have minded a life of excitement and something new day in and day out, like the life your friend shares with Atsumu. She's as rowdy as the day she pushed you onto Kita, and the blonde setter is always ready to jump at all her whims.

"What's got ya smiling?"

But as you watch the sun start to rise over the fields, sitting on the engawa with the boy you married beside you, waiting for your reply expectantly, you realize that you wouldn't have it any other way. This routine of drinking coffee before your husband sets out for the day is not a special occurrence— it's something you've been doing for the past year, and something you will continue to do in the future. And yet, each passing second never fails to make you feel thankful for the joy of everyday.

"Nothing, really. Was just thinking how beautiful the sunrise looks."

He smiles at that, taking your hand. "It always does," he says, but he's looking at you instead.

I love you, his eyes say, as he gazes at you, bathed in the morning sun.

I love you, his hand says, as he squeezes yours gently.

"I love you," he says, as he gets up to leave for the day.

You kiss him, as usual, with a "take care, see you soon," and you go back inside the house, to do what needs to be done for the day.

—

The first time Kita doesn't kiss you back is cold.

Your knees hit the floor and you wonder if the winters in Japan were ever as cold as the tiles against your skin. Your forehead and palms meet the floor, as if in prayer, to gods you never believed in.

Loss, it dawns on you, is something that people never consider before it is thrown in their face, as if mocking the serenity of the routine of every day.

Loss is thrown at you in the form of a phone call from the hospital at noon, saying that you are the next of kin of a recent car crash victim.

The established, usual, ordinary everyday is shattered by the figure covered in white cloth—to forever remain unmoving.

Kindness, is something that Kita Shinsuke always had an unlimited amount of. It's something that you always knew, and something that you always felt in the way he treats you, his friends, his family, even complete strangers.

That very same kindness taunts you now, as the officer tells you that he died saving a child from the speeding car.

You lift the cloth covering his face, and if, perhaps, your vision wasn't perfect, you could almost fool yourself into thinking he was just sleeping. But you understand that his eyes will never crinkle up into the gentle smile that greets you in the hours between twilight and sunrise. You understand that his arms won't drape over your waist, pulling you infinitely closer, sharing each others' warmth. You understand that his hands won't squeeze yours back in an affirmation that he's there, and always will be.

It'll be cold, you think, as you painfully try to imagine mornings from now on.

"Shin-chan, it's cold," you whisper.

He doesn't answer back.

It's cold, you think, as you press your lips against his—as if he was just coming home from a day in the fields, shouting an "I'm home" as he steps over the genkan. But his skin is devoid of the warmth that used to envelop you day in and day out.

Kita always said that he didn't need memories. Now they're all that you have left of him.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #kita shinsuke #kita #shinsuke #kita shinsuke x reader #kita x reader #inarizaki x reader #kita shinsuke angst #kita shinsuke fluff #kita x you #kita x y/n #kita shinsuke x you #kita shinsuke x y/n

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johnkrrasinski · 4 years ago

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So It Goes...

full masterlist

Pairings: Rock star/Bassist!Bucky Barnes x female!reader (AU)

Word count: 7,149

Warning: fluff, SMUT! but mostly just me falling in love with bucky, really.

Summary: natasha romanoff aka your annoying roommate coerced you into the howling commando’s live performance at a divebar near your dorm. little did you know, it was going to lead you to the man of your dreams aka the charming rock star boy/bassist, james buchanan barnes.

a/n: this one’s written for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan‘s “Little Darlin’s Mysteru AU” challenge. i chose band/rockstar au. here’s another love letter to bucky barnes because i love that man with my entire heart and every fic that i write about him is basically just me expressing my deep affection for this man. hope you guys enjoy this one cause i certainly do! also, rock star/boy band bucky is such a concept omg i’m in love

You laid in your twin-sized bed as you heard the chirping sounds of the birds outside of your window. They were singing cheerily as if they knew what you were feeling and they were celebrating with you. It felt like you were in a Disney movie that you used to obsess over as a kid, where you are the lovestruck princess because you just met a handsome prince who swept you off your feet at first sight.

The birds outside of your window are your animal pals who swoon over you swooning and they spontaneously harmonize and dance to this newfound joy. You couldn’t resist the smile taking over your face. It was too early for you to be awake on a Saturday morning. You were always up by 10 AM. No more, no less. But it was currently 8.45 AM and you still had at least one more hour to get up and be productive.

But not today. Today, you were going to welcome this exhilarating sensation in your bones, and you were going to savour every second of it. Because you couldn’t shake away those baby blue eyes and that suave, boyish charm. The way, they electrified you by first glance and made you tremble when those pupils dilated. You could still feel the way his soft, plump lips hypnotized you last night. And the raunchy way he held you at the bar.

Even when all was said and done, he found a way to haunt you in your dreams.

And you didn’t mind one bit.

You were currently in the middle of a crisis due to your upcoming final week. If there’s any word to describe you as a college student, it would be ambitious. The idea of failing or getting less than B+ makes you go ballistic. You were an active student. You joined multiple organizations that expanded your social life. You got along with mostly everyone in your classes and you had your professors’ respect too for your excellent grades and polite manners.

But your lack of dating life irked no one else more than your roommate, Natasha. You loved Natasha with your entire heart, really. She was like a sister to you. You were an only child so you cherished her older sister role in your life. She was, in fact, several months older than you and she always protected you like her own. Starting from the asshole that broke your heart in high school, despite only knowing him through your story, to incessantly pushing you to stop being such a nerd and have more fun.

Natasha was the kind of woman you don’t wanna mess with. She was loyal, brave and quick-witted. She knows how to keep her GPA high, whilst also maintaining a fun social life. She managed to do it all so effortlessly.

“C’mon, y/n! Just one night! You need to let loose and release all tension on your shoulders, baby. It’s good for your brain before finals start!”

“Noooo, Nat. Rock bands are not my thing and I’d have a higher chance of acing the tests if I study now, okay? Just go. Have fun without me and tell me how it goes.”

“But my boyfriend’s performing, y/n. And I want you to meet him! I promise they are really good. Even if you're not into the music, you can still go for the drinks, right? Also, they’ve got other cute members available so, you might find your own rock band boyfriend too if you go.” She winked. Her smirk was menacing.

“Ugh, I’m not interested in finding a boyfriend, Nat.”

“I know, but wouldn’t hurt if you do, right? Then we can go on double dates and have them write songs about us. Oh God, it’s going to be awesome.”

“Whoa, slow down. I haven’t even learned their names, yet and we are already discussing double dates?”

“Alright, let’s just start with putting on your sexy clothes and meet them yourself. Then we can move onto picking one gorgeous beast for you.”

“What makes you even think that they’d be interested in me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, y/n. Have you never owned a mirror? You are a total babe. You just need to get yourself more action.”

“Ugh, I don’t know, Nat…”

“You are going. And I’m not leaving until you get up and put on something cool. I have patience, baby and I’m going to annoy you all night if you stay. What do you prefer? Going out and have fun and meet some cute boys or me annoying you all night so you can’t study productively.” She glared at you. Her tone indicated that there was no compromise.

“Alright, I’m going. But that’s only because I wanna meet your boyfriend, alright? Not because I wanna find a boyfriend or whatever stupid shit you’re thinking.”

“Yay!” She jumped in excitement. Her face was content with joy and satisfaction from succeeding in persuading you. “Alright, let’s dig through your clothes.” She started rummaging your shared closet and observed meticulously each one of your outfits. “Hmm… Let’s try this one!” She picked up a strapless black sequin dress that you hadn’t worn in forever. You didn’t even remember packing it up in your baggage and brought it with you to your dorm.

You began stripping yourself out of your oversized hoodie and high-waisted shorts. You didn’t feel embarrassed changing in front of Natasha, you had seen each other naked many times. You were roommates after all and sometimes, you just had to be comfortable with the fact that you had private body parts underneath and within the course of four years, eventually, you had to get used to flashing one another at some point.

You put it on as you started to feel a little uncomfortable. You weren’t used to wearing skimpy dresses. Already wearing it for less than three minutes, you were constantly lifting the hem of the dress to prevent it from exposing your boobs and revealing your inner thighs. And the material felt itchy on your skin too. “Nat, I’m not sure about this. Let’s just wear a leather jacket and jeans.”

“Nonsense! You look bomb! Give your leather jacket and jeans a break, alright? Okay, turn around so I can see your behind.”

You twirled as she said, restlessly.

Tonight was going to be a longspun night…

The air felt crisp against your skin, as the breeze swept through your freshly curled hair, causing a few strands shading your sight. You struggled to walk steadily in your 7-inch heels that belonged to Natasha because you didn’t have a pair of your own. You were cool with wearing ankle boots pairing them with a sparkly dress. But Natasha didn’t think it was a cute look.

“What? Boots and dresses don’t go along, honey. Oh my, you need a serious makeover!” She was derailed.

You eventually settled with a silk red dress with a seductively low cleavage on the front, exposing the globes of your breasts. You were already as uncomfortable as it is, this dress didn’t make it any easier to act normal.

So you had to endure walking in these deadly shoes of torture, whilst clad in nothing but a scanty material with makeup painting your entire face. Great. What had you gotten yourself into? Damn you, Natasha.

You and Nat were walking arm in arm to the bar where “The Howling Commandos” were performing. That’s the name of the band that Natasha’s boyfriend was in. They have been a group for 5 years now, they had been doing this since they were in high school. Clint and the rest of the members were several years older than you and Nat. As soon as they graduated, they decided that they wanted to keep making music rather than working mundane, dead-end jobs.

Yep, Natasha told you that much.

Clint and Nat had been dating for two years now. They rarely saw each other due to the band’s packed schedule. Although, they would FaceTime each other every night, talking about each other’s days. You heard it all, from their most disgustingly adorable flirtations, to the most inappropriate, not so PG-13 confession.

They would literally pretend to smooch one another through the screen when you were doing your homework or when you had your nose deep in a book. You’d try to cover your ears by putting on your earbuds and turning up the volume so you could give them privacy but also, you didn’t wanna hear them talking about what they wanted to do to each other if both of them were here.

You knew Clint well enough to not feel like you were meeting a complete stranger. Natasha would often tell you to say hi to him and she had told you a lot of wonderful things to Clint. Clint would often talk about the band too on the phone, how someone called “Bucky” would piss him off by stealing his leftover sandwich. Or someone called “Sam” would often interrupt their chat by reminding him that it was soundcheck time.

“I gotta go, babe. Sammy’s not gonna stop yelling.”

“Aw, okay, tell the boys I say hi! Love you.”

“Love you too, baby.”

It’s like a daily podcast for you every night.

The dive bar where The Howling Commandos were performing thankfully wasn’t that far from your dorm. Natasha was super thrilled when Clint told them that they were going to perform here. They were finally able to see each other after a while, and because this was going to be their last gig until they come back with a new album, he said he was going to stay and spend some time with Nat.

You were happy for both of them. You’d never say it out loud but, a part of you was secretly jealous of their love. They managed to maintain such a fun, loving, and healthy relationship despite the distance and differences. Natasha once told you that she was never one to settle with a man for too long but, Clint changed the game for her. You smiled at the thought. They were genuinely in love. If you were to find yourself a boyfriend, you wanted the type of love that they had.

But not tonight. You were okay with being single. Just because a part of you wanted what Clint & Nat had, doesn’t mean that you actually need it or you’d die. You were too much of a goal-oriented person to be chasing over something that should come naturally. You had grown so comfortable in being alone, that you stopped desiring love so much. It wasn’t getting you anywhere. So you lived your life, being grateful for your friends and family. You invested your time in your education and passion. You were content.

When you arrived at the bar, the room was full with a crowd. You walked in with Natasha trying to make a space for yourself so you could walk through them. You could barely anything else due to the number of bodies blocking your view. Natasha held your hand as she took the lead and fought through the crowd to get to the front, where she could get the best view.

There was a blonde-haired woman standing on the front, so close to where the band were going to play. When Natasha slightly grazed her whilst trying to stand next to her, she didn’t look the slightest bit happy. She glared at Natasha as Natasha noticed. She glared back at her.

“Excuse me, there’s more space in the back, maybe you can stand there instead of cutting through the line.”

“Excuse you, miss. I’m dating the band’s drummer, so I can stand wherever I want, thank you very much. If you don’t like that, then the exit is right there.” She pointed to the door of where we walked in from.

The blonde woman rolled her eyes as she folded her arms against her chest. After you stared at her reaction, you realized that you actually know her. She was in the same social science class with you. You had never really talked to her because she often sat in the back and immediately left after the class was done, but you remembered her name. Her name was Dottie Underwood. Your classmates called her Dot. The ones that she liked anyway.

You decided to stay quiet and let it pass. It’s not like she even recognized you even if you start a chat with her. You don’t think it was a good idea either since she and Nat literally just snarked at each other. You directed your sight to the stage and waited for the famous Howling Commandos to appear.

One of the spotlights turned and highlighted a man walking on stage before he talked into the microphone at the centre. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, a group of brilliant lads, that make all the ladies go feral wherever they go, and their showstopping music are going to make us sing and jump tonight. Please welcome, The Howling Commandos!”

The crowd roared with cheers, the sounds of their enthusiasm filled the atmosphere. Their claps were jovially in sync as four, drop-dead gorgeous young men stepped into the stage as their presence shifted the energy in the room.

The first one was a blonde-haired with breathtaking bone structure, forming a ridiculously handsome face. His hair shone under the spotlight like the sun amidst the clear sky. He had an amiable demeanour about him. His smile was gentle and welcoming. He waved to the crowd and stood directly behind the microphone.

The second one to walk in was a dark-skinned man with an undeniable charisma oozing out of him. He had a neatly trimmed beard that only added to his spicy appeal. His smile was radiant as he also waved the crowd. He stood on the left side of the stage, a couple of steps behind Steve who was apparently the lead singer.

The third one to walk in was Clint. He was everything Nat described him to be. Placid and nonchalant. His smile was amenable as he greeted the crowd. He walked directly to the background, where the drumset was placed. He sat down on the drummer’s chair as he picked up the sticks he was going to play with.

The last one to enter was a literal Disney prince coming to life. His prominent boyish charm completely bedazzled you. His blue eyes gleamed under the spotlight as they lingered on you for a second. He immediately shifted his gaze as he kept walking towards the right side of the stage, but you swore that when he caught you staring dumbfoundedly at him, you could see the flash of a quick smirk on his face.

He only nodded to the crowd as he confidently picked up the bass guitar that was previously placed on the floor and put on the leather straps around his neck. His eyes turned back to you as you found yourself still bluntly staring at him. Something about him just enchanted you. He had that boy-next-door charm about him but also, a bad boy persona that was irresistibly enticing.

That flash of smirk that you saw earlier resurfaced and it was getting harder for you to pay attention to anyone or anything else in the room other than him. His gaze grew more intense as the noises of the crowd faded into the background. You were lost in this lethal game of eye contact until Natasha accidentally elbowed you by screaming her lungs out to respond to the lead singer’s introduction.

“Good evening, SHIELD’s Nest! How are we feeling tonight?” The lead singer vivified the crowd. They responded with a reassuring reaction. “I’m Steve Rogers and these are my buddies,” he turned his head to the left, as he started introducing the other band members. “The handsome guy right there is Sam, and in the back, there’s Clint, our brilliant drummer boy and this ladies’ charmer right here is Bucky.” As he pointed to the magnetic man who had held your attention hostage since he first walked in.

“And we are The Howling Commandos.” He paused for a second before carrying on with his prelude. “Alright, so the first song that we’re going to play tonight is called ‘Rusted Love’. Enjoy.” Steve removed his mouth from behind the microphone and started cueing the band to play. “1,2…”

Sam and Bucky started strumming the first few notes as a few people cheered. Then Clint jumped in, flaunting his talent in mastering the drum with his sticks. The energy in the room felt more energized as people started moving a part of their bodies. Then Steve amazed the room with his sultry voice, singing the words that echoed through the Sound system of the bar.

“I’m a flying kite in a hurricane, you paralyzed me with your touch and your lips got me addicted…” Steve shut his eyes, relishing the rune. You had a feeling that those lyrics wouldn’t just stay lyrics tonight…

They played another four songs that night. The crowd danced, jumped and screamed the words to their song passionately. You, on the other hand, was probably the most tranquil person in the crowd. You didn’t really know much about the band, let alone their music. So when everyone was constantly pushing you because they were too lost in the moment, you eventually tried to get out of the crowd and sat on the bar instead. Natasha was also too lost in supporting her boyfriend, that she almost didn’t notice you leaving.

Through the vibration of the crowd and the music, you had to really lean in to get Natasha’s attention and to get her to hear you. “Nat! I’m gonna sit in the back and wait there. I’m a little thirsty.” She had a giant smile on her face due to the zest the band inflicted. “Okay!” She yelled back, then carried on with her foxy moves.

You struggled to walk through the crowd, trying to not step on anyone’s feet as you made your way to the barstool. What you didn’t notice was, Bucky’s disappointed on his face when he saw you walking out on him. He noticed that you weren’t exactly as thrilled as anyone else. Although, he noticed your stolen glances as you shied away from him when he stared back. He even tried to wink at you once but you immediately looked to the floor, hiding away your blush. He swore he saw the way your cheeks reddened. Not that he wasn’t used to getting that reaction anyway…

You exhaled a breath of relief as you finally broke out of the congested mass of people. You sat on the barstool as you ordered a glass of rum and you waited as the music still reverberated robustly in your ears. You sat there as you started looking through your Instagram. Nat’s icon was the first one to appear in the row and you clicked it to see what you were expecting. She recorded a video of the band, then zoomed in to Clint, as he was ardently drumming the beat.

She put on a heart eyes and fire emoji with the text; “that’s my man!”. The next one was her and you singing along to the second song they played that night. You were able to actually mouth the words after they played the last chorus and you were a quick learner, so you memorized the repeated words easily after the third time. You scrolled through your feed a few more minutes until your order finally arrived.

“Enjoy, miss.” The waiter winked at you. He was probably in his mid-20s, he had warm brown eyes and a sweet smile. His dark hair was slicked back as you stared a little longer than you should. He was obviously attractive, but, you didn’t say anything back to him. You just smiled back in a friendly manner and uttered silenced thanks.

After sitting by yourself for about a half and an hour, like all good things, the show must come to an end. Steve Rogers concluded the show with a final thank you and goodnight as the spotlight shut down, like the drapes closing over a theatrical show. The crowd clapped and some of them started leaving, while others immediately went to the bar to quench the thirst from screaming along to volatile rock music and jumping up and down, getting lost in the tune.

Natasha patted your back as she jumped on the empty chair next to you. Thank God, she was quick on her feet, otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to get a seat. “Hey! God, I need a full shot of whiskey right now.”

“Yeah, go crazy.”

She scoffed. “Huh. As if that wasn’t crazy enough, back there.” She signalled the bartender to make an order. “So, what do you think? That was fun, right?” The cute bartender from earlier walked to her as he asked her what would she like to drink and she quickly replied.

“Yeah, they’re pretty good.”

“Pretty good? They’re damn talented. Especially the drummer back there. He totally killed it.”

“Yeah, okay, they are amazing. But you know their music isn’t my kind of music, so can’t say I really enjoyed it that much.”

“Okay, but you must’ve at least enjoyed the view, right? Don’t think I didn’t catch you and bass boy making several eye contacts back there.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You took another sip of your glass to cover your embarrassment.

“Oh my God, you totally do! Look at you blushing!”

“I’m not!”

“Yes, you are! Admit it! You like Bucky, don’t you?” She playfully pushed you to tease you.

“Oh my God, shut up Nat! You’re causing a scene!” You tried to lower yourself, now that you’re able to speak in a normal volume.

“Nope, I won’t stop until you admit it. Don’t worry, y/n, Bucky’s always been a charmer, so I totally get your attraction.”

That caused a peculiar sickness in your chest. It’s not like you were falling in love with Bucky, no. You didn’t even know him enough to like him. He may be an eye-candy but if he’s really as “charming” as everyone is saying, then that means, he’s one of those dangerous fuckboys that you should avoid at all cost. Because that means, he’s probably only going to manipulate you into thinking that he really cares for you, when in reality, he only wanted to get in your pants. Nope, not gonna happen to you. You weren’t going to be a new notch in his belt.

“Well, then that means he is bad news and that gives me even more reason to feel anything but attraction toward him.”

“Oh, no, y/n, I don’t mean it like that. He’s really sweet, and he’s always been the most chill one in the group. Trust me, you’re gonna love him. Just, give him a chance first, alright? I’ve known him long enough to know that he’s into you.”

“Into me? Nat, he doesn’t even know my name.”

“He will.” She winked again, as she took a sip of her whiskey.

Not long after that, Clint appeared from behind, without Nat realizing. He surprised her by wrapping her waist from behind as he whispered into her ears; “how’s my best girl?” Nat was slightly stunned but as soon as she realized it was her boyfriend, her expression instantly turned into a joyful one. “Hi, baby!” They immediately smooched as she wrapped her arms around his neck while standing face to face now.

“Did you like the show?”

“I loved the show, you guys killed it as always. Oh, and by the way, this is y/n, my number one bestie and the best roommate anyone could ever ask for. Now you finally meet her in person!” Her excitement was genuine.

“Hi, y/n! Heard so many great things about you, but you probably can’t say the same, huh?”

“No, actually I can. Nat wouldn’t stop talking about you every night even when I’m blatantly ignoring her.” You joked.

“Well, is that right?” He looked at Nat to assess the truth on her face.

“Yep,” you carried on. “She would say you’re hot, funny and kind, and all these wonderful things. Including the ones that I’m not supposed to hear.”

They laughed. They kissed once more, as Clint stood next to her seat, ordering a drink for himself. Next to you, you could hear Nat saying, “oh, where are the boys? Are they not thirsty?”

“They’re just packing up, babe, they’re gonna join us in a few.”

“Good, ‘cause I think there’s someone y/n would like to meet.” She teasingly wiggled her eyebrows at you, as you sent her a murderous glare. Your lips silently mouthed, “what the fuck?” but Clint picked up her tone and he quickly got the message.

“Oooh, who is it? Is it Steve, Bucky, Sam? Just let me know which one you like and I’ll deliver them at your door tonight, y/n. They’re all single and ready to mingle anytime now.”

You laughed nervously. “No, no, no, no. Nat’s just saying shit.”

She turned her head to her boyfriend and shook it. “No, I’m not. She and Bucky practically eye fucked on stage.”

You instantly slapped her arm, staring deadly into her eyes. “Ouch!” She put her hand on the spot that you struck, even though it wasn’t even that hard. Classic Nat. Dramatic as always. “Nat, you can’t just–”

Before you even managed to finish your sentence, she darted her eyes to somewhere behind you as she pointed at whatever got her distracted. “Oh, here they are!” She smirked. She raised her eyebrows at you before she stood on her feet and hugged the anticipated men.

“Hey, guys! Killer show back there!” Nat started hugging Sam and he kissed her cheek, and then she moved onto Steve and the last one to join was Bucky. You muttered ‘shit’ to yourself as you pondered on how you should act. Should you act like nothing ever happened during the show between you two? Or were you going to address the elephant in the room, and just straight up flirt with him, now that he wasn’t being so closely watched anymore?

You didn’t know which would be the best option so you just took a big gulp and drank down the entire glass of Rum you had left. Maybe if you were less sober, you wouldn't excessively overthink. You weren’t even sure whether he was really staring at you or not. For all you knew, he could be staring at another beautiful girl in the crowd that was standing beside or behind you. And if you act impulsively now, this would be like that cheesy moment on Rom-Coms, where a girl waved back to the guy who she thought was waving at her but it turns out, he was actually waving at another girl who was coming from the same direction as her.

Nope, you weren’t going to be that girl.

So you just smiled and nodded along as Natasha introduced you to the rest of the boys. You didn’t want to be rude so you sat on your chair, facing them with an interested look, even though all you wanted to do was just shrink and leave this goddamn place.

“Hey guys, here’s my bomb-ass bestie slash roomie. Her name’s y/n! Isn’t she stunning?”

When Steve was about to offer his hand to you, Sam immediately inserted himself in front of you and Steve. “Well, hello, good-lookin’. Can I buy you a drink?” Sam, being the cool dude he was, he leaned back against the bar counter on his elbows as he shamelessly flirted with you.

“Nope, thank you. I just had one.”

“Oh, you look like you could use another one. Here, let me get that for you.” He cued the bartender to make an order and you instantly tried to stop him, telling him that it wasn't necessary, but it looks like the bartender was already taking his order for you.

And then, out of nowhere, Bucky suddenly stooped in like a hero. “Hey, Sam, why don’t you back off? This one’s mine, alright?” That elicited a questioning look out of you. “Mine?” He didn’t even know you.

“Oh wait, so this is the one you told us about in the dressing room?” What the hell? You thought. They were talking about you as if you weren’t there at all.

“Yep, so why don’t you fuck off and get out of here before I get myself drunk enough to shit on your bed?” His tone was menacing but you could tell that this was a normal, daily conversation between the two.

“Jeez, alright. I’mma leave. You don’t need to wave your dick all over my face.” Before Sam moved to another spot, he patted you on the back and said, “good luck.”

What? What the hell was that for? The bartender came in with your order and served another glass of Rum right in front of you.

“You don’t need to drink that if you don’t want to.” He carefully spoke to you, as if he was trying to not scare you away.

“No, I think I need to. Tonight’s been a pretty crazy night.” You took a sip, the cold drink felt nice on your tongue.

He chuckled. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

“Oh, how crazy can it be for you? Isn’t this like, what you do, every night?”

“Yeah, but, you never really get used to it, you know? Sometimes you just wanna sit in the bar and have a nice talk with a pretty gal and hide in the booth or something.”

That… Warmed up your heart. Damn, if this is his way of flirting, it was truly working. You could see now why everyone was calling him ‘a charmer.’ He really had a way with words. And stares. His baby blues really know how to captivate you and froze you on spot.

“I’m Bucky, by the way.” He offered his hand to shake yours.

“I’m y/n.” You shook it with a smile.

“Did you like the show?” He asked.

“Gotta be honest with you, buddy, your music isn’t exactly my kind of music. But you guys were awesome.”

He paused for a moment as if he was contemplating what he was going to say next. “Think I got a little distracted up there.”

“Oh yeah? Why is that?”

“Cause there was this pretty lady in a red dress that I couldn’t take my eyes off of.” His gaze even grew more intense now. He was looking at you like you were the only thing in the room. Then his eyes darted to your lips, as he licked his. And before you knew it, he started inching his face closer to yours as he held his gaze on your plump, painted lips, while you could feel his breath more and more as the seconds went by.

And then… His lips were on yours. It’s like the clock just stopped ticking and every noise faded into the background and you were the only two people in the room. His lips felt soft against yours, and the way he licked your bottom lip made your head spin. You ajarred your mouth to let his tongue enter as it got tangled with yours.

You were aware that Nat, Clint and Steve who were having a conversation are now watching you like hawks, but you couldn’t care less. Not when Bucky’s hands grabbed your face, so he could have more control over your mouth. You were practically out of breath by the time he looked into your eyes, that are now slightly darker than a few seconds ago. He loved the sight of you, with your lips slightly swollen.

“Let’s go somewhere more secluded.” You could only nod and then took his hand after he offered you his as you got off the stool. He led the way and you couldn’t help but notice the glances that were thrown by several women along the way. They were staring at him with incontrovertible full of hunger eyes, one even shamelessly put her hand on his shoulder, as she coquettishly smiled at him. Bucky only smiled back and nodded at her but he kept walking with you in his hand.

Even if you were practically a pair, you felt invisible. Everyone’s eyes were on you, but not precisely on you. This must’ve been something normal to him, you thought. You weren’t used to big crowds and inundated with attention, and you weren’t used with unquestionably holding a stranger’s hand and letting him take you wherever he had in mind. But you did anyway, and you weren’t having second thoughts.

Bucky led you to the cramped lavatory and locked the door. The lack of space made it even harder for you to breathe when Bucky was this close to you. He pressed his body to yours, as he kissed you once more. Slowly, but you felt the spell in your bones. “All I could think about on stage was tasting those luscious lips.”

You were spellbound by his magic. You could barely speak another word when his baby blue eyes were looking at you so intensely like that. But you gathered every cell in your body to utter the words anyway, “do it again, then.” You boldly challenged him.

He grinned a Cheshire cat smile. He grabbed your face again and eagerly consume you with his mouth. He then moved his hands to the back of your thighs to elevate you onto the sink. He put his hand on your thigh and the other hand went to the back of your head as he grabbed a fistful of your hair, while still kissing you even deeper.

He pulled away to stare at your distraught state and asked the question, “can I touch you?”

You licked your lips, as you nodded. “Please.” His mouth was on yours again, as the hand that was on your thigh moved to the bottom your dress, delicately inserted his fingers to feel you against your red lace panties. You could feel yourself growing wetter and wetter as he motions his fingers in circle harder.

Your breath quickened. Your mind was getting hazy as the second passes by. The right strep of your dress had fallen off of your shoulder, and Bucky utilized that opportunity to pull down the other strap and he began groping your breast, tenderly pinching your nipple. That elicited a petite yelp out of you. He groped your breast once more as he was still toying with your nipple.

He began kissing your neck, shortly finding your sensitive spot as you threw your head back. You shuddered. Your hands grabbed his hair, wanting to feel him closer. “Bu- Bucky… Please. I need to feel you.”

You didn’t wait for his response and immediately lifted up his shirt. You were stunned by the sight under the dimmed light of the bathroom. Clothes really didn’t do this man any justice. He should never be allowed to wear any coverups, ever again now that you had seen him. He was sculpted by the Gods themselves. His biceps felt robust in your dainty hands and the V-shaped line on his hips led to somewhere you really wanted to wrap your lips around.

Your hands quickly zipped down his jeans and his boxer along with it, and you didn’t hesitate in feeling his throbbing member right there, right then. It felt tremendous in your trembling hands, and you felt it getting harder with every stoke of your palm.

“Oh, fuck, doll, don’t stop.” His voice was raspy in your ears. It was the sexiest goddamn sound you had ever heard.

“Yeah, just like that. Go faster, doll.” He sucked your earlobe and his hand fisted your hair, making a mess out of it. You didn’t mind one bit. You wanted to be a mess for him and only for him. You somehow still managed to pamper him with all the senses you had left, even if your mind was clouded with every part of him.

“Bucky, put it in me. Please.” You begged with a quavering voice.

“Your wish is my command, doll.” In a second, he pushed into you and it sent an electrifying jolt all over your nerves. You threw your head back in mingled pain and pleasure. He felt even more full now that he was fully seated inside you. He lifted you from the sink and pushed you to the wall on the opposite.

You circled your arms around his neck as your back was slammed against the concrete. Then Bucky began thrusting vigorously. You shut your eyes and moaned his name. Bucky, on the other hand, didn’t. He kept his eyes wide open to watch you with full attention. He loved seeing the way you were drunk in him. The way you forgot your name more and more every time he slammed back into you.

He loved the squelching noises ringing in his ears, better than the melody he was used to creating in the studio. The sound of your heartbeat was far more gratifying than the way Clint played his drum. Oh, how he could write an entire album solely about you in this state alone.

“You feel so good around me, doll. So. Fucking. Tight.” Your moans became louder with his filthy words in your ears.

“I’m gonna make you mine.” This time, his voice was sultry. It was rather beguiling than mortifying.

His hips kept moving and out of you with a vehement tempo, and then just like that, you crumbled. You screamed your pleasure, not caring if anyone could hear you. Bucky was still moving, trying to reach his own climax. Shortly, he was with you. He unleashed his cum deep inside you, adding the mess that was dripping all over your thighs.

You were a beautiful mess. And Bucky loved it.

After a few minutes, coming down from your high, you breathed into Bucky’s neck, not wanting for it to be over yet. You were a little scared that Bucky was going to walk out and pretend nothing ever happened between you. You didn’t know how many bathroom stalls Bucky had brought different women to and fucked them silly right there. You had a lot do unravel about him, yet, you weren’t certain whether he wanted to let you in or not.

“You okay?” Bucky whispered into your ear. You only nodded, still a little hazy from ecstasy.

“I’m gonna put you down now, yeah?”

“Okay.” He slowly set you on your feet, as he was still staring at your face. You leaned against the wall, trying not to collapse. Bucky picked up his shirt and put it back on along with his jeans and boxer.

“Let’s get out of here.” Bucky offered you his hand, like the gentleman that he was as if he hadn't just fucked you into oblivion in a public restroom.

You took his hand with a smile. You didn’t know what was going to happen after you walk out of the door, but you were going to savour every second of being in his arm if this was going to be last time you’ll ever see him.

You went home with a contented smile on your face. You were like a teenage girl who had just been asked to prom by her crush. How could you not, when Bucky offered to walk you home and left a kiss on your cheek before he called it a night?

Natasha was going to stay at Clint’s hotel, so you were supposed to walk home alone. You knew eventually this was going to happen but Natasha and Clint used it as a reason so Bucky and you would spend the night together too. You didn’t mind one bit, though. You wanted to elongate your time with Bucky and your wish was granted.

You offered him to come inside and stay for a little while, you were secretly hoping that you could go for the second round, but Bucky only chuckled and shook his head.

“Not tonight, doll. I ain’t that kinda man. And you need rest. But I’ll call you tomorrow, yeah?” Then you and Bucky exchanged your numbers and he waited until you were really gone from his sight.

You walked up to your dorm with butterflies in your stomach and sparks fly all trailing over your footsteps. Thank God, Natasha wasn’t here. If she were, she would’ve relentlessly teased you all night and made you admit that she was right to coerce you to come.

And you would’ve had to admit that she was right. And you didn’t like admitting that you were wrong.

But tonight, you were going to admit it to yourself though. Sometimes, doing something that frightens you the most would endue you in ways you couldn’t possibly imagine.

And you were going to thank your lucky stars tonight for embedding Natasha Romanoff in your life because, without her, you would’ve stayed in your shell and Bucky could’ve fucked someone else in that restroom instead of you.

That might’ve happened in another universe, but not tonight. Tonight it was you and you were really hoping that you were going to see him again in your dreams tonight. You had one taste of him and it wasn’t enough.

Bucky texted you not long after you took a shower.

“Dreaming of me, yet?” Wink emoji.

“Well, if I were, I wouldn’t be texting you right now, would I?”

“That’s true, but at least you’d be drenching your sheets because of me and I don’t think I have a problem with that.”

“I don’t need you to do that, maybe I can use some toys in my drawers tonight. They seem pretty bored.” Thinking emoji.

“Oh, doll, you are killing me here…” Drool emoji.

“You like it.”

“I do.”

“Goodnight, Bucky.”

“Goodnight, doll. Thinking of you here.”

You turned off your phone and the screen went black. You changed into your pyjamas and washed off the remnants of your makeup and let the slumber take over you.

Bucky’s face loomed over you, somewhere in a fancy balcony, the view of the city stretching over, added to the beauty of the scenery. He was wearing a navy blue suit with a white dress shirt and no tie. The first couple of buttons were unbuttoned, giving you a majestic picture that he was. His hands that were in his pockets, took yours as you exerted yours to him.

He leaned in with a bright smile under his stubbly face, his blue eyes sparkled like Sirius star.

“Fly with me, doll.”

“What if I fall?”

“Then I’ll catch you.”

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