#if i must be sad i will give someone else the joy i can't currently experience | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jingyismom · 3 years ago

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Since I saw a gifset of drunk Wei Wuxian I've been thinking about what kind of drunks wangxian are, so:

POV you (yes, you) are in the all-gender bathroom at a club trying to get a stain out of your shirt when an insanely beautiful guy with an easy grin and a wicked tattooed undercut walks in

You try to ignore him because 1. he's too beautiful and 2. stain problem, but when he comes back out of the stall his eyes fall on your sad paper towel via the mirror

He's swaying a tiny bit, washing his hands with the careful movements of the comfortably sloshed, and openly staring at the mess you're only making worse

"Sauce??" he asks.

"Sangria," you say.

He grimaces and meets your eye sympathetically.

"Won't come out with soap," he says. He starts fumbling around in all his pockets, though how he fits anything in jeans that tight is a mystery.

"Aha!!" he goes, whipping out a detergent pen with a flourish and a lopsided smile. "It really is a tide pen, I'm not just happy to see you." He grimaces. "But I am happy to see you, too. What's your name? You seem great. Ooohh nope, here, you do it. 'M too drunk."

He's gregarious in a way that manages to be both disarming and endearing. He's not even actually flirting with you, you can tell he's just like this, and you can't help but like him. You take the pen and introduce yourself while you work on the stain. He leans against the sinks, arms crossed, silver jewelry glinting in the dim light, his smile going apologetic.

"I'm Wei Ying! But...terrible with names. Sorry if I call you Sangria, just correct me," he begs.

You tell him Sangria is fine anyway.

He laughs with you, and says, "True, you were drinking it! You must like it."

With a sigh, you start to summarize the unfortunate events resulting in someone else's sangria going down your shirt. He makes a startled sound, though, when he notices a tear in the waist of his own shirt.

"Noooooo," he groans. "This was my hottest outfit."

His head thunks against the wall at his side.

You produce a safety pin, and hold it out. "Here."

He opens his eyes, and his face lights up so bright it almost hurts to look at. He takes the safety pin, and then looks at you with unguarded joy.

"You're the BEST," he says, and starts to try to pin the seam. He struggles. "I can't....reach.”

You put the pen down and help. He smiles at you like you hung the moon, then reminds you you were telling the sangria story. You have no idea how he remembers this, when this drunk, but not names.

He keeps you talking, friendly and genuine and enthusiastically in your corner. He seems ready to march out and dump a fishbowl of red wine on the responsible party himself, but then you mention you weren't having that great of a time anyway, and he stops.

"Why???"

Without going overboard for a conversation in a crappy public restroom, you tell him you weren't really feeling the atmosphere, you've just been kind of down. The sangria was a sign you should probably head home.

He goes quiet and intent, and reaches out to squish your face in both his hands. He stares into your eyes, his gaze a little unfocused but very determined. It's actually a little terrifying to have someone this stunning looking at you this close.

"You. Are amazing," he says. "You wanna party? You party. You are the good Sangria, and you can't let the bad sangria get you down."

Horrifyingly, his eyes start to get a little wet.

"D’you even know how awesome you are??? Look!!"

He turns your head to look at your own squished face in the mirror, and gives your head a little shake.

"Look!!! Even Lan Zhan would like you!!"

"Lan Zhan?" you ask, the unfamiliar name coming out smushed like your cheeks.

"Yeah! Even him!! And he doesn't like anybody!"

You realize at this point that he's one of those people who appears much less drunk than they are, even as drunk as he currently appears.

"Who ish Lan Zhan?" you smush.

"My best friend!" Wei Ying says, and shakes you a little again before letting go. He's got a distinctly faraway look in his eye now. "He's amaaaazing. The best...person. The. He's really. Yeah."

"If he's your best friend, then he clearly likes you, too," you say.

This has the opposite of the intended effect. Wei Ying blinks several times before closing his eyes.

"Yeah," he says. "He likes me. As a friend."

"That's good," you say tentatively. "Since you're friends."

Wei Ying hiccups. "En," he says, with a loose nod. "We're good friends."

And then Wei Ying starts to cry.

You rush forward to pat him on the back.

"What's wrong?" you ask, bewildered by the sudden emotional swerve.

He sniffles. "I think I'm in love with Lan Zhan," he says wetly.

Ah. That would do it. You try to comfort him by telling him what a catch he is. He shakes his head.

"Not like Lan Zhan," he says, between little sniffling hiccups. "I mean, yeah, I am, but not like Lan Zhan."

You find this sort of hard to believe, but know better than to argue with a crying drunk.

"You're amazing," you parrot back to him. "Look how much you helped me, a stranger in a bathroom! I'm sorry you're in love with your best friend, but there are worse things…you could fall off a cliff or something, you know? At least you're here, and you're awesome, and you get to be friends with someone as amazing as Lan Zhan? Right?"

He sniffles some more, and nods.

"Isn't being friends with him better than not being friends with him?"

He nods frantically. You pat his back some more, hoping he swings back around to happy again soon. Or at least that he doesn't barf or something.

"Who are you here with?" you ask him.

"Everyone," he mumbles.

You start to wonder if he means this in a cosmic sense, but he clarifies.

"A-Cheng, A-jie, A-Ning, Qing-jie, The Peacock, Mingjue-ge, Huaisang, Xichen-ge, Lan.....Lan Zhan...."

He gets a little weepy again.

"That's a lot of people," you venture.

He nods again. "A-Cheng's birthday after-party. All the kids go out to get hammered."

"I s--"

"Except Lan Zhan. He doesn't drink. And Xichen-ge says he doesn't but I know I've seen him tipsy."

"Oh, what a liar," you say, indulgent.

Wei Ying makes a sound that could be called a giggle. "He dessserves some fun. You know. That type. Good...goodest old son. Good oldest. Eldest. Responsibility."

"Oh. Yeah, I know what you mean."

"He's good brother. To Lan Zhan. They're good."

"That's good."

Eventually you bring him back around and coax another sunny smile out of him. Within minutes, you've sent him back out to his party, and you've put on a brave face for yours. You catch a few glimpses of him dancing happily with a small, beautiful woman, so you figure he's okay.

And then, not a half hour later, some guy with a sour expression, wearing sunglasses in the club (pick your most-hated character)(or the one that makes you laugh hardest to picture), punches you directly in your carefully-done hair.

Just like that, you're in the bathroom again.

And you remember how you thought Wei Ying was possibly the most beautiful person on the planet?

The stall behind you opens, and a different guy comes out, and you figure Wei Ying has some stiff competition.

He's standing perfectly straight when you spot him in the mirror, and you start to wonder what the deal is with this bathroom that it keeps producing ethereally gorgeous human beings, but then he takes a step, and the careful deliberateness of it almost conceals a slight wobble.

So you wonder how this bathroom keeps producing ethereally drunken human beings.

You keep an eye on him as he makes his slow, dignified progress toward the sink, and it would be hilarious if he weren't somehow pulling it off so well - head high, disinterested expression on his stunning face. He braces himself briefly on the counter and then turns on the tap with minimal hesitation, so your eyes wander to his perfect makeup and his frankly shocking subtly-glossed mouth, and at that point you decide to focus on your own ruined hair instead. You've tried everything, though, so your hands fall to your sides, and you sigh. It's just going to look like a ferret did zoomies on your head no matter what.

You kind of wish that Wei Ying guy were here. He had incredible hair. He'd definitely help. But it's just you and totally-out-of-it Haughty McBeautiful, so you pull out your phone to order a ride, and turn to go, but then stop short.

Mr. Ice Prince is staring at you with an expression that would probably cut straight to the bone if it were at all focused.

You clear your throat. He doesn't say anything. It's a little worrisome.

"You okay?" you ask.

He blinks a little too slowly, and then looks at your hair.

"Hair," he says, observantly.

You grimace. Of course this unearthly being is offended by the tragedy on your head.

"Some guy ruined it," you say. "I'm good enough at hair to do it in the first place, but not good enough to fix....this."

He frowns. It softens his sharp expression into a startlingly cute pout. You shrug at him. He points to your hair, and then himself, and then your hair again.

"Um..." you say.

He wobbles over behind you, and taps your head with one elegant finger. After the surprise subsides, you shrug again. He honestly couldn't make it worse.

You hold still as he picks at the strands, pulling and rearranging and occasionally splashing a bit of water from the sink. You can't really see what all he's doing, but his movements are suddenly quicker, more deft, from what you can see out of the corner of your eye. You're too afraid to turn your head to look in the mirror, but it's only a few moments before he steps back, and you hear him go, "Mn."

You do look then, and your jaw drops. It looks better than you had it before. When you look at him, he's assessing you in the mirror, much more lucid and shrewd than a moment ago. He nods and repeats, "Mn."

The warm sense of approval you feel at that has no reason to be so overwhelming.

"Wow, thanks," you say. "It looks incredible."

He's still looking you up and down. He tugs on one of your sleeves to make the fabric lay better.

"Good," he says, and it sounds, from him, like almost embarrassingly effusive praise. If someone who looks like this says you're good, you must be.

If he can be this pulled together when he's so drunk he can barely speak, you can't imagine what he's like sober. How do people even go anywhere with him? Maybe they don't, maybe someone with this level of standards doesn't even like being around mere humans.

A sudden suspicion strikes you. It doesn't make sense with the little information you have about him, and yet, in this magic bathroom, it very much does.

"Lan Zhan?" you say.

His eyes widen, and then narrow in suspicion.

"You're Lan Zhan, aren't you."

Slowly, he nods.

You feel a deep, heartfelt pang of sympathy for lovely Wei Ying.

"Your friend Wei Ying," you say, meaning it to be explanatory.

As soon as you say the name, however, he loses interest in you entirely. He looks at the door.

"Wei Ying," he says, low and almost comically wistful as he sweeps past you.

"Wait," you say. He ignores you. "About Wei Ying."

He stops. Turns just enough to look at your elbow. You probably shouldn't say anything, but he's so drunk you can't imagine it doing any harm, and your curiosity is mighty.

"If Wei Ying were in love with you..." he looks you in the eye, and you realize he hasn't done that before. You almost lose track of the sentence, but you soldier on. "What would you do about that?"

His eyes go big and round, and his mouth drops open just the slightest bit. He looks lost for a moment. But then he blinks, and takes a breath.

"Marry him," he murmurs.

Your heart approximately imitates a star going supernova.

"Okay," you say.

His eyes are glassy, and he sways a little. You think, from what Wei Ying said, this might be the first time he's ever been drunk.

"Are you okay?" you ask, to make sure.

He nods, head swinging a little too freely on his long neck.

"Alright, go back to Wei Ying," you say, and hold the door open for him.

He glides unsteadily out, back into the loud dark, and you track him as you go back to your friends, just in case. He gets there okay, but you don't forget about him. You probably never will.

Luckily, about three songs later, the person who jostles you not only manages to catch you before you faceplant, but turns out to be none other than sunny, apologetic Wei Ying.

"Sangria!!!!!!!" he says. "You're still here!! And I almost ruined your night again aahhh!!"

"No, it's fine!" you assure him. "It's all good!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" you tell him.

And then you smush his face between your hands, and fix him with your most intense stare. You make your voice as serious as you can.

"Wei Ying. Listen. Are you listening?"

He nods, eyes huge, moving your palms with the movement.

"You have to tell Lan Zhan how you feel."

"But!!"

"Shh! We're listening, remember?"

He nods again, mouth pressed closed.

"Tomorrow, when you're both sober, you WILL remember this, and you WILL tell him you're in love with him. And then you will live happily ever after. Do you understand?"

"But what if he—"

"Trust me," you say. He looks uncertain.

"What are you, psychic?"

"Yes," you say, because why not.

He squints at you.

"You believe in Lan Zhan, right?" you ask.

He nods.

"You know how sad you are, thinking he doesn't love you?"

He nods again, glum.

"What if he's just as sad, thinking the same about you?"

He flinches, and stares at you in shock.

"You're making Lan Zhan sad, Wei Ying."

It's mean, and only half true, but you're trying to make this stick. You let it sink in, watch the horror crawl over his face.

"So you'll tell him?"

"I..."

You hear a friend call your name.

"You should tell him," you say, and release him. You give his shoulder a pat. "Just trust me."

And you leave him there, staring at nothing, your fingers crossed in hope.

::SIX MONTHS LATER::

Your friends want to go back to that bougie club with the magic man-producing bathroom, and you figure, might as well. It was an interesting night to say the least.

But when you get there, it's closed for a private event.

You actually do have to use the bathroom though, and the manager who opens the door to tell you to buzz off is actually nice, so you sneak in.

As soon as you close the stall door behind you, the door to the bathroom opens again, and you freeze.

"...be right back!" a voice calls before it shuts again.

"Right there," the same voice says, softer. It sounds suspiciously familiar. "At the sink."

There's a long silence. You try not to make any noise.

"I think I remember this as well," says another voice, low and thoughtful.

It sounds familiar, too.

"Ah! Really? Did you have an ~encounter too??"

The word 'encounter' is said in a mock-spooky voice.

"Possibly," the second voice allows. "I remember...messy hair."

"Hmm I don't remember any messiness, Lan Zhan, maybe you saw a real person."

Somehow, it's them again. Magic bathroom, indeed.

There's a pensive hum. "Perhaps."

Wei Ying laughs, bright and happy.

"Okay Lan Zhan, when we tell the getting-together story after the toasts, we can say you met The Psychic Named Sangria in the Bathroom of Fate, too."

"Wei Ying is gracious as ever," says Lan Zhan.

There's laughter and more silence after that, and then the soft but unmistakable sounds of enthusiastic kissing.

It goes on for...a while.

You panic and flush the toilet.

"Oh shit sorry!!" Wei Ying calls, laughing again.

The door opens, and closes, and then they're gone. You never see that bathroom or Lan Zhan and Wei Ying again.

But you might be a little bit psychic after all, because you know they live happily ever after.

::The End::

(PS you did SUCH A GOOD JOB!!!! You got wangxian together you did it congratulations!!!! 💖💖💖💖 This was originally thrown onto twt!)

#lan wangji #wei wuxian #wangxian #the untamed #wangxian fanfic #i tweeted this a while ago #absolute fluffy silliness #i have another thread i did this weekend that i'll be crossposting here too #and that one is Spicy so get ready #don't ask me how i ended up writing a fluffy little reader-insert 2nd person pov fic i have no idea #but it was fun so i hope you enjoy <3 #my fic

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donaweasley · 3 years ago

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What If

Pairing: Loki x Fem! Avenger! Reader

Plot:

A silly game of “What-Ifs” between two friends eventually leads to the realisation that the future, if spent together, may not be as bleak as they had anticipated it to be. A dialogue-based best friends-to-lovers cliché.

Warnings: Relationship angst, too many dialogues, long read, happy ending!!!

Read time: ~28 mins

Author's Note:

It's a long read with far more dialogues than can be deemed healthy. The reason is, I didn't want their arc to feel rushed. It had to be cooked slow. Another reason is that, I can't help hearing my characters, and it triggers a flood of dialogues! I'm trying to work on controlling it. 😬 Hope you enjoy!

Now has a sequel: Their Little Secret

“C’mon! You’re breaking the rules now,” Loki casually waved his hand at his best friend.

“I’m not. There’s nothing to answer really,” (Y/N) replied with a shrug.

“There must be something on your mind!”

She pretended to think for a second, and shook her head.

---------------------

It was a usual night in the compound. It was just another night when one of these two friends had called the other in the middle of the night for some midnight snack. It was just another of those happy times when they had tiptoed into the kitchen like thieves because...no, no one would mind some missing nachos or ice creams, but because it was fun!

It wasn’t easy for Loki to open up to someone, let alone to allow the other person in. Neither was it easy for (Y/N) to trust somebody, given her past, especially when that somebody was infamous for betraying almost everyone, at every step, not to mention his attempts at ruling Earth and causing massacre.

But time is a healer and a magician.

And here they were now, looking at the moon-washed night life through the west-facing glass wall, and playing a game of “what-ifs”. One would say that it was silly and immature; some would even call their talks gibberish. But when the night was so relaxed and carefree, why wouldn’t they be?

The pale yellow orb hovering above the western horizon cast a soft ray of light through the glass wall. Oblivious to its movements across the room, Loki and (Y/N) were wrapped in a thin blanket on a couch, their feet resting on two separate pouffes.

It had all started with a silly question, something like, “What if you weren’t stuck in this building tonight?”, or something along those lines; they didn’t even remember correctly anymore.

One question led to the other, and soon they found themselves tangled in a game of questions that would have been enough to create an alternate reality. But eventually, they found themselves, not answering with imaginary scenarios, but debating over one particular question:

“What if you find the love of your life tomorrow?”

This question was posed by Loki, rather theatrically, amidst the many others that had tossed different possibilities of their near future. And it was here that (Y/N) refused to play along anymore because, as she stated, it was “the most silly question ever”.

---------------------

“So, you claim that my question is even worse than your ‘What if you were a Jotun cat’? What kind of a question is that anyway?” Loki teased.

“Of course, it is. Undoubtedly!” With one wave of her hand, (Y/N) dismissed his appeal.

“And how is that even logical, may I know?”

“C’mon, this entire game is out of the boundaries of logic,” she claimed. “Your behaviour is like that of a cat. Don’t make that face; it brings you closer to being a cat. And...a Jotun cat sounds cool!”

Loki sighed. “And my question is ridiculous! If the game is beyond all reason, then...” he shrugged, “say something...weird, and move on!”

“Fine! If I-if... If I meet the love of my life tomorrow,...I’ll stab him. Or her. Or them. I don’t even know.” She huffed.

“Ouch!” Loki made a face, ”Didn’t see that coming. I would enjoy the stabbing part though. Thank the Norns, you never declared your feelings for me!”

She looked at him sideways with a stern face. Loki noticed the irritation simmering just beneath her skin, ready to burst out at the next prodding.

“Hey,” he placed a hand on her arm, “what happened? Was it something I said?”

She turned her face away. But Loki wasn’t giving up that easily.

“(Y/N),” he gently tugged at her arm, “look at me.”

When she finally turned towards him, he held her by the shoulders just to make sure that she couldn’t move away again.

“Now, you’ll tell me everything. What happened?” He inquired again. “I thought you were having fun.”

“It’s nothing Loki, it’s just that...you know I don’t like discussing my non-existent love-life. It’s...it kind of makes me...sad sometimes. Especially in a setting like this!” She waved her hands at her surroundings. “I mean, look at it, a full moon, a silent night, blankets and… It just leaves me with this reminder that I’ll be alone all my bloody life!”

Loki’s hands slowly retracted from her form and folded themselves on his chest. And just like that, they both found themselves staring out of the window.

“I’m sorry,” Loki’s voice audibly reflected the guilt that had formed within, “I never intended to...”

“No, you shouldn’t be. It’s...I overreacted. I’m sorry, Loki. I just ruined the mood. Shit! And it’s not my hormones, mind you!”

“I know,” Loki chuckled. “And you did not ruin anything. It’s natural to feel, isn’t it?”

She looked at him with a raised brow, “Somebody’s learning!”

“Somebody’s got a good teacher,” he smiled.

“Aww!! I love it when you acknowledge my awesomeness!” She wrapped an arm around him, pulling him in closer, and pinched his cheek.

“Ugh! Let go of me! Let...go!!”

The room was filled with (Y/N)’s cackles and Loki’s threats as he wriggled out of her grip.

“Do that one more time, and I’ll stab you!”

But it wasn’t enough to stop her chortles.

“Would you now?” she teased, and raised her hands again in a faux attempt at squeezing his cheeks.

He swatted them away.

“Stop it!” He warned again, only to emanate snorts from her.

But the next second, his voice changed into a compassionate one, “Why do you think you’ll be alone all your life? How old are you anyway? 80? 90? Isn’t that supposed to be old in human years?”

Once again her cheerful mood fled behind a thick curtain of annoyance. But this time she did not look away. She simply rolled her eyes, and pulled her legs from the pouffe to sit cross-legged, and shifted to face him.

“No, I’m not that old. But why are you suddenly so interested in this topic?”

“Because suddenly, you seem to have found an interest in getting annoyed.”

“Then don’t annoy me.”

“Not in my nature, I’m afraid.”

She couldn’t decide whether to hit him or laugh at him.

“Loki-” She curled her fists and shut her eyes.

“I’m listening, darling,” he smirked.

Of course, she knew how stubborn Loki could be!

Who else would know that better than me?

“Okay,” she placed her palms flat on her thighs, “the thing is...I can never make a relationship last more than two years. I waste my time trying to establish a...a proper, long-lasting relationship - something permanent - and end up with a heartbreak. Every. Fucking. Time. I’ve given up. I’ve had enough! Now, even if anyone makes a move, or if I’m interested in someone, I just remind myself that it’s not gonna work! I just don’t put any effort anymore.”

Loki hummed in response; his eyes were focused on her as if he was trying to decipher a mystery.

“And,” she continued, “given my current ‘job’,” she air-quoted the word, “I’m more sure than ever that no one will last more than two months now!”

Once she voiced the storm in her head, her eyes softened and she looked down at her lap. Through hooded eyes, she stole a guilty, fleeting glance at her friend, who seemed to be musing about something really serious. His eyes were strained on the carpet, while his chin rested on a fisted hand balancing itself on his thigh.

For a long moment neither said anything. Only the distant buzz of the sleepless city floated through the air and filled the room.

It was Loki who disrupted the silence with a long and heavy sigh.

“I knew that Midgardian men were impatient, narcissistic-”

“Look who’s talking,” she smirked as she interrupted him.

He gave her a quick deadpanned stare before resuming, “-imbeciles, but I was beginning to think that they have good tastes in women. It’s disappointing, not surprising though, that they have proven me wrong.”

A small laugh almost made its way to its escape, but she pushed it back. “You think so?” She quipped.

He shrugged, “From what you’ve said, there is no reason to think otherwise.”

She sat a little straighter. “Really? Do go on!”

Loki immediately noticed the effect that he had planned for. Without giving away the joy of his small triumph, he continued, “Indeed! Look at you! You’re an amazing woman! You’re brave, witty, independent...smart...excellent with knives! And that’s my favourite thing about you, by the way. ”

Feigning offence, she exclaimed, “And I thought your favourite thing about me was that I tolerate all your tantrums, and keep up with your shenanigans.”

“I don’t throw tantrums, darling,” he pushed the accusation away with his silky tone, “and don’t tell me that you take no pleasure in the havoc that we wreck together.”

At this, she could no longer suppress the evil grin that spread across her face, “I do love a bit of chaos. It’s fun.”

“To think of it,” Loki added excitedly, “had you been on Asgard, you might have been the Goddess of Chaos!”

“Oh! Thank you!” She replied with a dramatic wave of her hands.

Both laughed at the way their words were unfolding.

“Thank you, Loki,” (Y/N) said after their little whirlwind of laughter had calmed down, “I guess I needed to hear something nice about myself. It’s been a long, long time since I heard it.”

“I meant every word of it,” he replied in a solemn tone that made something flutter in her chest.

Was it gratitude? Was it joy? Was it love for her best friend?

It was hard to tell. It seemed to be everything at once.

She simply smiled at him. “Even the ‘Goddess of Chaos’ part?”

“Especially that part,” he asserted, and she laughed.

“You’re the best, Loki!” She gave him a half hug.

“That, I definitely am. But you’re not too shabby yourself. And you should never ever be sad for someone else’s failure.”

“Alright, I get what you’re trying to do here,” she landed a playful punch to his shoulder. “I’m fine! Really! I just got a little carried away.”

“No, I really mean it,” he tried to assure her. “You are one of the most magnificent women I have known! And mind you, I’m rather picky in these cases.”

She laughed, “Of course, I’d know that! ... Loki, it’s...it’s alright. Some people just don’t have it in them to sustain relationships no matter how wonderful they are. I’m okay with it.”

“Come on! A narcissistic God is showering you with genuine compliments! And you’re still not convinced that it’s not your fault but of all those who failed to keep up with you?”

She tried another attempt at convincing him, “It works both ways.”

“Norns! I can’t believe you’re so foolish!”

“Enlighten me, please,” she drawled.

“I believe I have already established the fact that you are phenomenal.”

When she giggled and nodded, he carried on.

“Good. Now, your job, as you put it, shouldn’t be a hindrance in your relationship. You’re doing the marvellous job of being a guardian to thousands of people. People you don’t even know! How many would put their necks out there to do it?”

“C’mon, Loki, when duty calls, you have to leave everything behind and just go! Who’d tolerate that for days? They will snap one day.”

“I’d never do that!” Realizing his mistake, he quickly corrected himself, “What I mean is, had I been in their place, I’d have never done that.”

“That’s because you’re on the team,” she argued. “So, it’s normal to you.”

“No, it’s not because I’m on the team. I’d-” He sighed. “Fine, why don’t you try finding someone from this field? Stark’s parties are a great place to hunt humans.”

“‘Hunt humans’?” She snorted, “I like the sound of that. Nay, haven’t found anyone. Besides, mixing professional and personal life can be fatal. You never know when your personal life might get jeopardised because of a mission gone wrong. Y’know, the usual blame-game and all. I hate all that!”

Loki brooded over her words for a few seconds before asking, “I don’t get it. Why would it be fatal? I mean, look at us,” he gestured in between them. “We have a perfect understanding. We’d never blame the other for any petty thing. Or-or let it affect our friendship.”

“That’s because we have the perfect understanding, Loki! You said it yourself. It’s a rare thing that we have. And I can’t expect it to be with anyone else. They’re not you, Loki.”

“They’re not us,” he corrected her.

Joy seeped through his senses as he watched her face brighten up at his words.

With a nod, she continued, “You see, all that spark, excitement, promises - these sound really great at the beginning. As time passes, as the real world pushes in, love moves to the backseat. Love is not enough. There comes a time when you have to balance everything together, and love becomes one of those things. It becomes a chore.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow you,” Loki stated with a frown. “That sounds so sad!”

“It is!”

“Well, it shouldn’t be! Loving you shouldn’t be a chore! Let’s say...hypothetically...if I’m in love with you, then you’d be my passion. And passions never become a duty, not even in the worst of times. Instead, they help us breathe when everything comes caving in. You’d be my...my moment of peace in a war. How could I not be tempted to embrace this beautiful moment?”

“Unfortunately, Loki, that’s not how it works. See, when you have a lot on your plate, say your job, your dreams, your daily life and all the pressure that comes with these, you’ll find less and less time for your loved one. Things get hectic and eventually frustrating. You won’t be able to keep that flame alive even if you want to. And one day, you’ll come to realize that you have distanced yourself from your moment, even if you never wanted to. But it’d be too late. There’d be no going back.”

“I’d never distance myself from you! I mean, from my moment. I’ve been a king, and I know how taxing royal duties can be. Sometimes, it seemed like a luxury to get even a minute to myself.”

“See? So, how could you have found time for me?”

“I would have, darling. Not plenty, but whatever little time I’d have gathered, I’d have made them memorable. For you. For us. And maybe we could have gone on long rides occasionally. Rekindle the old flames? Or-or we could have gone on visits to other realms...for political reasons, of course, but could have taken the opportunity to spend a small vacation with each other. What do you say?”

Painfully tempting images of a life that could have been floated in her eyes.

“And what if we came back to Earth, and I got involved in...say, a job that was all hectic and left me all frustrated, and with little time for you?” She shrugged.

With a sigh, Loki shifted to face her fully. “We will take care of each other, (Y/N). If one gets low, the other pulls both up. And I know that together, we can do anything! I believe in you more than I believe in myself.”

She smiled brightly as she acknowledged, “That is...that sounds doable, yes.”

“You’re special,” he placed a hand on her cheek, “and you need to be treated in the most special manner. One that befits my queen.”

A moment passed between them as they looked into each other's eyes, both seeing the same beautiful picture.

His queen!

My queen!!

Wait, what is he...?

Damn! What am I doing! What will she...!

Loki cleared his throat as he abruptly pulled his hand back to his side.

“I’m sorry, I...”

“No, it’s okay,” she cringed at the way the words squeaked out of her. Clearing her throat, she continued, “We were just giving examples.”

“Yes, just examples,” he agreed.

“It’s fine! I understand.”

“Great! It’d have been quite...awkward...otherwise.”

“Oh no! It’s...uh...totally fine. We’re best buddies!” She gave his arm a light punch.

“Right!” He nodded, and focused his gaze on the floor.

After taking a minute to calm his heart, he wore his witty persona back.

“See, having a relationship is not at all tough. All you need is a good partner. And I’ve proved myself right again! No, wait. There’s something you mortals do. It’s...uh...about throwing something...”

“Goblets? We don’t do that. It’s you-”

“No, not throwing, it’s about dropping something...after you have proven a point...”

“...Mic drop?” She chuckled.

His eyes lit up.

“Yes! ‘Mic drop’. So, as I was saying, all you need to have a happy and successful relationship is a good partner. Mic drop!” He concluded as he mimicked the action.

She sighed. “There’s just one tiny problem. I’d probably never find the right person. The ones that flirt with me, don’t understand me, and the ones that understand me have friendzoned me.”

“I’ve never friendzoned you,” Loki quickly replied with a frown. “J-Just clarifying...in case you were talking about me.”

“Of course, I’m talking about you, you big oaf!” She flicked his arm.

“Hey! You friendzoned me.”

“No…? It was you! Well, yeah, I never tried to flirt with you or anything but...anybody could see that you were being just my friend.”

“I can say the same about you,” Loki playfully accused.

“Whatever,” she shrugged.

A thought started playing in her mind. And a couple of seconds later, she decided to say it aloud, “I...umm...Just curious...y’know, don’t take it in any other way. Did you ever think of flirting with me?” She put forward each word very cautiously.

Loki furrowed his brows, and opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, she warned him, “Be honest!”

Immediately, his confident attitude changed into a helpless one. “Yes, I did. Maybe once. Or twice. But that was all! I assure you!”

She could hardly contain the amusement that was bubbling inside.

“What’s so funny about it?” Loki asked with furrowed brows.

“Nothing,” she shook her head as she tried to hold back her laughter, “nothing at all. It’s,” and then she lost it, “I’m sorry! It’s funny! I don’t know why, I find it funny hearing from you!”

“Look who’s laughing!” He said wryly. “I could clearly hear your thoughts the first few days after I stepped into this structure. Every compliment that your little mind cooed at my divine persona. And may I dare say that not all of them were decent.”

Her hysterics were long forgotten as her face went red at the comment.

“How dare you invade my mind?” Her hand had balled into a fist, ready to hit his arm when he caught it.

“I didn’t invade it, darling. You were practically shouting inside that pretty head of yours. I could have heard it from the other side of the planet!”

“That was a long time ago,” she refused to meet his eyes. “I make better choices and better decisions now.”

“Do you?”

She opened her mouth to speak but closed it without uttering a syllable, and crossed her arms.

Loki nudged her with his elbow. “Hey, it’s fun to tease you. Don’t be a spoilsport.”

“I hate you,” she peeked at him through the corner of her eye.

“What can I say,” Loki sighed. “Alright, if you say so.”

She smirked as she glanced at him sideways.

Loki cleared his throat in a not-so-subtle manner. “So, the next time Stark throws a party, I’ll find someone for you.”

Immediately, she face-palmed, and groaned, “No.”

“What?”

“Please drop this topic. And you’d probably find me a psychopath, anyway” She joked.

“That hurt!” Loki exclaimed with a hurt look masking his humour, “do you think so little of me? Can’t I find a proper partner for my best friend, my darling?”

“No, it didn’t hurt. Don’t fake it. I know you better than anyone.”

“No, you don’t. You-”

“I do. And...I’m fine, Loki” she reassured him, “being with myself, with the people here, being with you.” She gently bumped her knee into his.

“Will these be enough?” His tone had left the playfulness behind. “Will I be enough? For all your life?”

She shrugged, “I think so. You...stick with me all the time, you understand me, you...make me feel good. What more could I want to be happy?”

“You know what more you are missing. A friend can never touch the boundaries of what a lover can give you.”

“I don’t need a lover. Just be with me all my life, and I won’t need anyone else.”

He gave her hand a light squeeze. “I will. I promise.”

Her playful smile was back. “Thanks for all the pep talk, my dearest God. But turns out that I’m better off alone. Now can we please go back to the game? It’s my turn to ask you.”

“Alright,” he smiled back, “if you say so.”

“Stop saying that!” A defeated sigh left her. “You won’t be convinced, will you?”

“Probably not. Because I know that this will gnaw at you again a few days later. I know you’ll be sad again. And that I won’t allow on my watch.”

“God!”

“Right here, listening to you!” Loki quipped.

Rolling her eyes, she muttered, ”Damn you!” And proceeded to put forward a proper argument.

“The reason why I’m avoiding a new relationship is because I don’t want another heartache. I can’t handle breakups. That’s why I’m...”

When Loki didn’t make another attempt at dissuading her from her arguments, she added, “I just...try everything to avoid a heartbreak. Because when I get one, I lose control over myself.”

“Yes, I’ve seen. Once.”

“Then you must have noticed how vicious I become. Sarcasm drips from my mouth all the time, I say things that I shouldn’t, I...I hurt people. And in turn, I hurt myself. I yell at those who want nothing but good for me. But...”

“But being mean seems to be the only way to mask the pain,” he finished her line.

“It does, yes!”

She looked at him, and into his eyes that silently spoke of the pain that was resurfacing. She remembered something.

“You and I are so...alike!”

He nodded with a smile. “And maybe that is why we understand each other more than anyone ever could. … But we’re more than just being alike, if you think about it.”

She noticed how his voice gradually rose from its usual calmness to an excited tone, and his hands moved with his words.

Loki continued, “You point out my mistakes but don’t accuse me like everyone else does. You show me what’s right. And there’s this-this thing about you, which is so scary...the way you make me do all the things that you want. I-I mean, I am the God here! But you…a mortal...how can you have so much power over me?”

He sighed as his voice dropped to a compassionate tone, “You make me happy, (Y/N). You’ve taught me to forgive when I can, to forget what I can’t fix.”

“Don’t always do that,” she interrupted with a smirk.

His evil smile made a brief appearance before he resumed his warm note, “I like being with you. No...I love being with you! You make me feel good. You make me feel...I don’t know.... You make me feel…”

“Complete?”

“Yes!” He observed her, “You complete me.”

For yet another time, silence enveloped them. The only difference was that this time, it was comfortable. Even in their hushed moments, they could hear each other, know what the other wanted to say.

After a while of exchanging quiet stares, (Y/N) spoke, “All this time I believed, but now I know for myself, that you are indeed Silvertongue!”

Loki looked at his lap and laughed, but in the pale light of the setting moon, she noticed the pink that had crept up his ears and cheeks.

“I meant every word of what I said,” he reassured her once again that evening.

“I know, Loki.”

Loki watched her as she shifted to a kneeling position, and leaned towards him. He felt his face becoming hotter as she supported herself on his shoulder with one hand, and placed a soft kiss on his cheekbone.

As she settled back, her lips tingled with the memory of Loki’s skin on it.

They had been best friends, yes, but she had never allowed herself more than a quick hug because she knew that Loki wasn’t someone open to random touches. And she wanted to respect that. Always.

But this peck felt right. It felt necessary. And it felt...different.

What happened next wasn’t guided by logic anymore, but only by their senses.

Loki put his legs back on the pouffe, and scooted a little closer to (Y/N). Taking the cue, she shifted so that her leg was stretched out, and back on the pouffe - not on hers but his - and sat close to him. He arranged the blanket so that it covered them both again.

Another stretch of silence enveloped them. To them, the moment was beautiful. To Loki, who had never experienced anything similar before, it was precious. If he could stop time, he would have done it right then and there.

“Why haven’t you found anyone yet?” She asked him.

“Royalty has its disadvantages,” he replied without taking a moment to think.

She leaned back slightly to get a good look at his face, “Didn’t you ever find anyone from the royal...uh...what do you call it? Of royal blood?”

Loki laughed at her naivety. “Can’t say I didn’t. But none of them were the one. Besides, most people chose my handsome brother over me. And if anyone chose me, well, it was mostly because of my royal title. None of them were real.”

“That’s awful! I would never have done that to you! I’d have chosen you for the wonderful being that you are. But, I get it; happens on our planet, too.”

“Everywhere,” he asserted.

“So...who do you think is the one for you?”

He looked down at her face, which was mere inches away from his. For the first time in months of their friendship, he felt something swell inside his chest at the closeness.

“I still don’t know,” he whispered, “but I think the Norns might have started giving me clues.”

He didn’t need to explain, obviously. All the tension that had been building up throughout the night had placed them both on the same page.

Without thinking, Loki moved his wrist so that his palm was facing the ceiling. And instinctively, (Y/N) placed her hand in it, their fingers closing around each other.

"It's odd," she announced after a while.

"Indeed."

"It's weird. I mean, what were we even thinking!" She huffed, although she was still clutching his hand, as was he holding hers.

"Exactly what I was thinking. You and me?” Loki laughed nervously, “Come on!"

"Yeah!"

"Right".

Silence, their faithful companion for the night, visited them once again.

"Could it be? You and me?" Loki’s voice was a little more than a whisper, and bordered on the edge of confidence and doubt.

"Doesn't sound so bad. Not after all these... Talks?" She whispered back.

"Right!"

"Right."

And once again, they fell quiet.

The strangeness of the moment pushed them both into a whirlpool of thoughts. From acquaintances to partners to friends to best friends to...lovers?

Can this even be possible? What if it’s just a passing phase? What if everything goes back to normal tomorrow? Will we still be able to talk normally? But… This feels right. Just...right.

With a sigh, (Y/N) put her head on Loki’s shoulder.

"I don't want to rush into anything and ruin what we have," she confessed in a hushed tone, eyes staring into the night outside.

"Neither do I. You're the only one I have."

With a raised brow, she looked up at him.

"And Thor," he corrected himself with a small smile.

"Glad you remember him "

"Shut up.

Slowly, hesitantly, Loki put his free hand around her. Unsure of the appropriateness of the action, he kept his arm loosely hanging around her frame.

He waited for a while. Had Loki looked at her face, instead of looking straight ahead in fear, he would have noticed the small smile that had formed on her lips.

When she didn’t flinch or protest, he began to rest his arm properly but gently on her. He even went ahead and made the slightest possible effort to pull her closer to him.

The smile that had started forming on her now spread wide enough to turn into a grin. Its reflection was found on Loki’s face, too, who could finally muster the courage to look at her, although he was equally worried that she would be able to hear his heart trying to hammer its way out of his chest.

With every minute that passed, Loki became more baffled, for he couldn’t decide which moment he’d frame and hang on the wall of his heart as the most precious one.

"Are you feeling hot?" She asked without looking at him.

"A bit, yes. You, too?"

"Quite a bit, actually," she gulped.

"Is it normal?"

"I guess, yes. Totally! Had we been cool about it, it'd have meant that there's no spark between us. It’d have felt awkward, wrong."

"So, you agree that there's a spark between us?" He didn’t even attempt to hide the mischievous smirk that shone on his face.

"I had always suspected," she nodded.

"Hmm. When was the last time we went out for dinner?" He asked.

“Probably last month...or was it-”

(Y/N)’s head snapped up to look at him. She could barely put a lid on her excitement.

"Are you proposing to take me out on a date?"

"Well, if we are going to do this, then I'd like to court you properly."

She felt like she'd burst out of sheer excitement.

"If you'd agree to it, that is" Loki clarified.

Taking a large breath, she replied, "I'd love it."

The night was going better than either had expected. Who would have thought that a game of weird questions and a few confessions could change their lives!

(Y/N) put her head back on his shoulder, and let her body slump against him. He held her confidently this time.

“It still feels weird though,” she declared.

“It does, yes, but...maybe this is...right?” In a long time, Loki was hopeful about something, and he wasn’t going to let it slip away. No.

“I hope so.”

“Me, too.”

“Just so you know,” she sat up straight, “Thor is handsome, yes, but you are devilishly charming. You’re intelligent, well-read, witty, sarcastic, great at combat...uh...”

“Go on,” Loki smirked, earning a playful glare from her.

“You are,” she continued, “seductive! And who can resist a sorcerer who knows his way around everything!”

The evil smile that Loki had put away found its way back on his face. “As far as I remember, I did nothing to seduce you. I wonder what will happen if I try...”

“Shut up, Loki! You know I give away raw compliments. I didn’t really mean...I didn’t think...”

He laughed heartily at the furious way she was blushing.

“I was only pulling your leg. I had imagined you to be wise,” he clarified.

“I am! It’s just... I was...” She shook her head.

“So,” Loki resumed, “you think I’m devilishly charming?”

“Drop the topic, please!”

“You can’t resist my sorcery, ha?”

“Please change the topic! Forget what I said!!”

Loki laughed as he continued teasing her. It wasn’t going to be an easy ride, she realized, with the God of Mischief, but it was going to be the best ever!

“(Y/N)?”

“Hmm?”

“I know it was your turn to ask but, what if...you and I are indeed meant to be together?”

She smiled as she rubbed her cheek on his shirt, “I think we’ll have a gorgeous future together. And...I’d love that more than anything else.”

---------------------

The next morning...

“Morning, Wanda-”

“Shh! Shh!!” The red-haired witch silenced Natasha, and pointed towards the couch.

Curious, Natasha’s eyes followed the direction that Wanda’s finger was pointing at.

There, snuggled in a blanket, fast asleep, sat (Y/N) and Loki, their legs spread on a pouffe, tangled with each other’s. Loki’s arm was wrapped around her shoulder while she was holding his waist. Her head lay on his chest and his on hers.

“Aren’t they cute?” Wanda whispered.

Before Nat could reply, Tony’s voice cut the conversation.

“Who’s cute?”

This time, both the ladies shushed him, leaving a perplexed expression on his once sleepy face.

When they pointed towards the couch, Tony huffed, “These two! God knows what’s taking them so long to realise! They’re just so-” His face lit up. “Know what? I have an idea! I’ll make them confess. Who’s up for it?”

***

Now has a sequel: Their Little Secret

And...a song for keeping the feelings floating...💕

youtube

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urfangirl18 · 4 years ago

Text

As promised here is the first chapter of my fan fiction 💜

1. One Fateful Meeting

'why did it take you so long to pick up Mei-ah'

I laughed at the pouting face of my best friend Jiwoo as she artlessly sat down on the seat in front of me looking as gorgeous as ever in her off white lacy dress that she paired off with open toed sandals and a black jacket. Her cheeks were pink from the cold and she smiled at me graciously as I pushed the warm cup of caramel latte towards her.

'mian Jiwoo-ah I had to rush a couple of things at the office but I'm here now.'

I said as I took a sip of my hot tea grateful to be inside this cafe while looking at the soft pitter patter of raindrops on the window. It gave me peace amidst my ever busy life in Seoul.

'have you heard?' she asked as she tapped my hand on the table and pointed at my open macbook.

'my laptop? what about it?'

'for someone who graduated with honors in 4 courses way back in college how can you be such a pabo sometimes?'

I smiled and shrugged my shoulders at her 'I have no clue...soo spit it out Jiwoo-ah and no I am not dating your dongsaeng or any of your friends...please.'

She pouted while shaking her head 'why not?? it's been so long since you dated someone...who was he again?'

I flinched at the reminder of that awful date and shook my head as I motioned for her to continue with her news and what made her point at my laptop.

I was currently checking the website I was working on as much as my eyes were wanting to rest from reading codes after codes that I dealt with in the office earlier.

'I have awesome news from your imaginary boyfriend...' she said with a smile 'open google please and type his name.'

'imaginary boyfriend my ass' I mumbled knowing that I was blushing like mad at that moment. 'what about Satoh-san?'

She grinned at me while typing something on my laptop. She frowned a bit as she saw that I was working and smiled again as she found what she was looking for looking obviously pleased with herself...should I tell her that she looks a bit like a Cheshire Cat?

'clear your schedule this Friday until Sunday...you my gorgeous chingu will be modeling for my clothing brand with Takeru Satoh.'

'oh sure...'

I nodded clearly not believing a word she said for how can she and the management secure a modeling contract with the ever busy Takeru Satoh.

'no shit Jiwoo!!!' I said as I sucked my breath at what I was reading 'how the hell did Yuna and Georgie manage to snag this?!!'

I wanted to scream for joy but since we were inside a cafe all I managed to do was grasp for my bestfriend's hand in support.

Indeed the management and Jiwoo finally snagged a contract with the Takeru Satoh, the famous Japanese star. My mind was reeling with questions as I was reading the news about it. It happened this morning while I was swamped with work and couldn't check my phone.

'that's why I was calling you!! You're perfect for this Mei-ah and I know you wouldn't want to miss being in the same set with your one and only love.'

'how did we afford him? This man is worth thousands no millions when it comes to a modeling contract. There is absolutely no way we can afford this...how do we get that investment back?'

Jiwoo grinned at me and shook her head in disbelief. It was then I forgot...she can very well afford to get even the highest paid actor in Hollywood for who am I kidding? Even without the help of her influential and very affluent family my bestfriend owns one of the most successful fashion boutiques in Asia and Europe.

'I can't believe this...' I muttered 'I don't think I can model for this...maybe hire a professional for this Jiwoo...it's too huge of an investment if I don't pull this off.'

'ohh no!! you are not backing out of this Jeon Mei Lin. There is no way I am letting you say no! His agency wanted you to be his partner for this shoot.'

I would have fainted right at that very moment when I heard what she said.

'his agency? why?? we have plenty of models...why me? I only work part time.'

'they were mesmerised by your beauty and charm as simple as that and we know you're a perfect fit for their star as well.'

she whispered as she slowly took my glassess off and untied my bun. I squinted as I tried to get my eyeglasses back from her but knowing my bestfriend she won't give them back unless she has her way.

'for how long will you keep hiding yourself behind these glasses Mei? How long will you be depriving the world of your beauty?'

I rolled my eyes at her compliment and sighed...if only I can tell her. If only I can tell her the reason why I choose to hide my eyes beneath my glasses then maybe instead of convincing me to model along with the man of my dreams she would be helping me look for a husband so my family could leave me be and we could all live in peace.

Sadly all I can do was keep my mouth shut and nodded at the offer given to me. No one can know and no one must know. It's safer that way.

'alright I'll do it...I'll take my leave on Friday and Monday. Anything for Satoh-san and your boutique.'

I told her with a smile to which she jumped up from off her seat and gave me a bone crushing hug. For a tiny thing Jung Ji Woo sure can hug...makes me wonder where she got her strength from.

'kamasahamnida Mei-ah!! Don't worry everything is taken cared of all you need is to relax and look all pretty on Friday.' she then smiled and added 'should I accidentally book a hotel room for the both of you?'

I groaned and shook my head at what she was planning. I doubt anything can happen if she does that. This man whose pictures has adorned my phone for as long as I started being his fan would never notice me. He was just way out of my league. He travels the same circles as Jiwoo and her family or my cousin's also very affluent family. I didn't belong there...or should I say I don't even belong in this world. I was made for something else and I have been trying my best to not think about it.

I was destined for something else and the longer I dilly dally the more my head starts to pound. Is it too much to want what other girls have?

I hid my sadness in my cup of tea as I found Jiwoo smiling while looking at her phone talking to her fiancée no doubt. Whereas my single ass was in dire need of a fucking date but then again with the hideous glasses I wear I doubt anyone would want me.

*Satoh's POV*

'your flight for Seoul is on Thursday night Takeru-san and here is your schedule during your stay there.'

I smiled in gratitude at my assistant Takei-san who handed me an ipad as I took a break from work. It was a warm day in Kyoto and I was just finishing up the last few takes of a modeling stint for Versace and I was looking forward to a cold drink.

I sat on my chair inside the cool shade of the villa we were in and stretched my back. It was a long day but I had fun. Unbeknownst to everyone I was not just into acting or modeling though my family approved of it and allowed me to pursue what I love provided I don't forget to help run the business empire that our family has.

The money and the power my family has gave me the freedom to do whatever I love but it doesn't mean I don't work hard for it. My success wasn't handed to me on a golden platter I worked thrice as hard to get to where I am and to amass whatever success I hold

After that modeling stint with a very famous fashion line in Seoul I would finally get some much needed rest and to check on some of my businesses in Korea including my new baby which was a game and software development company which is now doing exceptionally well in both Korea and Japan. It was also starting to gain recognition in the US as well.

Personally I want to congratulate one of my lead game and software developer there who produced a game that has now over millions of downloads and users all over the globe. I also want to discuss another software app that I have in mind with him.

Yes I was all about business but maybe just maybe I may get a chance to rest a little bit when I get to Seoul.

'and the management of Meijiwoo agreed to our request. The shoot will be held privately and your partner is someone they deeply trust.'

I nodded as I checked the ipad and the profile of the model I will be working with. Looks like I would be having fun with this shoot. I smiled as I checked the portfolio they have sent...the girl in the photos could surely be a professional model in Seoul for she has the beauty a master artist would want to paint. She wasn't overly beautiful like the rest of the girls I had worked with or even the women I dated but there was something very alluring about her. It was then I saw her eyes. They were a brilliant shade of blue and the more I look at them the more beautiful they were getting.

'what's her name? is she a foreigner?'

I asked Takei-san to which he shook his head and said.

'she's korean, that's what the management told us but I can get some more information about Mei, Mei-san.'

So this beauty is named Mei...looks like my trip to Korea is getting more interesting and Friday couldn't come any sooner.

I smiled as I continued checking her portfolio most of the modeling she has done was for Meijiwoo and some korean make up brands. She was a beauty and for sure her agency wouldn't find it difficult to market her abroad. With her enchanting blue eyes this girl could conquer to world and it made me wonder why doesn't she have any other works than in Korea it was a shame to not let the world know of this beauty.

'Takei-san make sure to find out who her manager is maybe we can arrange a deal with them for a contract. Her beauty shouldn't be hidden.'

I said as I handed him the ipad and closed my eyes...looks like I have another business in mind. My parents would be so pleased that in whatever I do I always put business first forgetting myself sometimes.

I sighed and got a drink from the table and walked towards the window admiring the zen like beauty of the garden outside. The glass of whisky in my hand mocking me. I am now at the top of my game, of my career. I have achieved everything that I could ever want but why do I feel hollow inside?

Amidst the fortune I have from all the years of hard work why do I feel lonely everytime I go home? It's as if the more I surround myself with luxury the more empty I become.

'I probably just need to get laid...'

I muttered as I took my phone and checked who among my female friends are free and mentally reminding myself to buy her a gift as a token of my gratitude. It was always like this...after hours of pleasure I still feel so damn empty inside.

#satoh takeru #bts fan fiction #takeru sato

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dukeofriven · 6 years ago

Note

There's a distinction to be made here. Like, you're right that the writing isn't good here. The writing in the Kingdom Hearts series is frequently terrible, especially when it comes to awkwardly inserting Sora & crew into Disney movies. The question, though, is whether or not you're enjoying it regardless. I can't currently tell if you are.

This is such a wonderful question and I love it so much. (The way to a writer’s heart is to ask them questions about themselves, because we are all mad egoists)The short answer is that I don’t write 2500 words on something I don’t think is worth exploring, and I certainly don’t spend six hours dissecting a two-minute scene if I didn’t derive any pleasure from it. The long answer: it is not “enjoyment” in the sense of ‘relaxing.’ I am not ‘enjoying it’ in the sense that I can zone out while watching it, or necessarily find delight in the viewing experience - which is not to say those are bad things, I just find that really, really hard to do. My brain works differently. I do find that sometimes ‘critique’ is conflated with ‘criticism,’ and that there is a prima facie tendency to presume that anyone critiquing anything has had a negative experience. There are very few things I love that I don’t find reason to critique (off the top of my head, Labyrinth and A Muppet Christmas Carol are the only two the jump to mind, and you can tell that one of their defining features is Childhood Love.Also Muppets.)But to say that I am not enjoying it would be untrue: when I don’t enjoy something I might write a lengthy piece on why, but I wouldn’t keep returning, day in and day out, to make the same complaints. (Except Mass Effect 3, because fuuuuck Mass Effect 3.) This liveblog gives me structure, first of all - something my life desperately needs to retain any kind of stability. I am in a bad depressive way right now, and those six hours I spent hyper=focussed on writing that perhaps absurd position paper on Tinkerbell was six hours I didn’t go to 7/11 and spend ungodly amounts of cash on enough taquitos and pseudo-meat to put me into septic shock. My day job is - or, rather, was until a week ago and I was essentially made redundant - writing terribly dry content for a market research firm on the praxis of sales analysis - ah, the glamorous life of a freelancer. When I write this liveblog, especially long-form posts, both for this and several other essays I’ve done over the years, what enjoyment I have! The ebb and flow of words, the simple joys in register and tone: I don’t focus as much on euphony as I might when writing prose, but simply glance through it and you can see how often I like playing around with modality. It is never not funny to me to write incredibly flowery phrases and counter-point with FUCK THIS or MOVIE BAD and vice versa. The act of writing is its own reward. Whether anyone else enjoys it, or finds it pretentious, or lowbrow, or simply boring, might matter to my ego, but the enjoyment of the act - that is entirely internal.But that all rather sidesteps the questions of ‘do I enjoy anything about Kingdom Hearts,’ so let me say this. In April of 2005 - almost fifteen years ago - I sat on my friend’s bed and watching him play this new game called Kingdom Hearts II, a sequel to a game I didn’t care about and had never played - but this KHII game? It transfixed me, at least for the time I got to spend at his house watching it. By the time he’d gotten into something called a gummi ship and was buzzing around a bad space sim with some Disney jerks I’d lost interest - but that prologue? Those first hours? They starred a kid named Roxas, and boy did I love him. I wouldn’t have said ‘love’ at the time, but that’s probably what is was. Roxas lived the ultimate imposter syndrome in a world built entirely for the benefit of someone else, doomed to be subsumed by somebody with bigger hair and bigger shoes. He had friends who didn’t really know him, and glitches bedevilled his steps, and there was a crushing weight of melancholy that pressed down upon him. Roxas was so, so sad - and he didn’t know why, he couldn’t even express why, and when he tried all he could come up with was banal platitudes about the end of summer, but that wasn’t quite right, that wasn’t really the issue, and he knew it wasn’t right. A countdown timer was tick tick ticking away in some grand cosmic joke that he could sense but could not confront. And there was this girl. There were two girls, really, both in dreams, one in fragments, the other who smiled at him with the saddest smile and eyes that knew the truth - that neither of them were real, and the dreamworld in which they all lived was as ephemeral as he had always feared.There’s an angering absurdity to Roxas, especially now that I’ve seen so much of Kingdom Hearts 1. We are told he is only half of Sora, or half his heart, something along those lines: he is Sora’s teleologic shadow. This is nonsense. Sora is barely a person, and Roxas is hauntingly familiar, painfully real - a kindred spirit to a long vanished 14 year old who even then was starting to grapple with the hollowness that rang in his ears, the disquiet that followed his soul. Half of Sora? Sora is a nobody . - Roxas is the true person. If there was justice in the world, than Roxas, Prufrock and I would take a long trip into the country in search of meaning and stability of being.“Why am I doing this?” you might ask. “Why do this when you don’t seem to like Kingdom Hearts.” Of course I like Kingdom Hearts - I love it. It gave me Roxas, and eight hours of a surreal and wistful summer’s end. Perhaps a bit too narrow focus for real enjoyment, and yet here we are. I am here for Roxas - no more, no less. If I must fight through dross and narrative gossamer to reach him again, so be it.The shortest answer: I said the game was poorly written; I never said I wasn’t enjoying it.

#gilphon #kingdom hearts #sora #donald duck #goofy #dukeofriven liveblogs kingdom hearts #disney #roxas

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babslou-blog · 8 years ago

Text

You can't pacify them - Carl Grimes Imagine

WARNINGS: Slight Smut

[A/n:Thank you very much for the positive feedback and the followers! Enjoy!]

Isn't it sad when you're in a relationship with someone you think makes you happy and then that someone else comes along and just gives you all that you've ever wanted? Everything you ever longed for? Isn't it wrong loving like this? Yet, whenever you're around me, I can't help but feel this way. All my doubts, all my hesitation.. You make all these feelings fade away, and I can't bear the fact that I can't touch you, I can't kiss you, because I'm not allowed to. Because we are not allowed to love each other this way, because everything is in the way. My heart feels heavy, and all I want is to go someplace with you, a land where no one will gossip about us or judge us just because I love you. And every time we are together, the way you look at me, the way you breathe and act, it all shows that you feel the same. I'm tired of lying to myself, saying it's just a stupid thought. Because you don't go away, you don't stop haunting my mind, even if I want you to. It hurts being this cruel. I want to let myself go. I want to let myself go with you. As selfish as it sounds, they are holding us back. Just kiss me for just a moment and, for just a second, let's make ourselves forget about them.

Carl sat at the edge of his bed, feeling his heart ready to explode out of his chest. He couldn't handle the feelings fighting inside of him, fogging his mind and blurring his logic. He loathed it, more than anything. He was with Enid, he should be happy. He must be happy. Right? Right?

No. The answer is no.

Enid had kissed him that day and he could feel himself be happy. She held his hand and he felt that this way love. He thought that this was love, the love that would cure him. But, as time passes, Carl only now realizes, he doesn't know shit about love, real, pure love, the one that oozes out of someone's heart. Now, Carl feels real love, and he hates it. 'Why?', you may ask. Because it made him feel so helpless, so vulnerable, because he couldn't control himself. And he questions himself, swears at his own reflection and asks shakily every time, "Why her?".

Because Enid is not her. The more he tried to force himself to feel like that, the more he strived to alter his feelings, it only grew stronger and wouldn't release him. But why can't she just be that person? Why can't Enid just take that place, and then the problem is solved? Even if Carl clenched his jaws and balled up his fists, the veins in his neck vivid and standing out as he breathed hotly and raggedly, his knuckles bruised from knocking off items and breaking the hallway mirror, she wouldn't become her.

He thought that if he just tried to feel that way toward her, that feeling would go away. It never did, and every night Carl would clamp his hands firmly around his pillow, delving his nails and teeth into it, muffling his ears and shielding his blue eye from the navy moonlight because he couldn't stop thinking about her. It tears him apart. The muscles in his face are tightened, his cheeks and ears scarlet, his chest thwacking and fluttering continuously. He can't stop his thoughts, he can't demand his brain to halt processing it over and over again; he can't erase her glistening eyes, can't stop hearing that laugh purling from her throat, can't ignore the love and comfort she gives him whenever they are near, can't stop thinking of how soft those lips would feel against his own-- It is too much, it overwhelms him and Carl can't breathe.

He crams his spinning head in his open palms, baring his teeth and desperately trying to calm the pounding within his fatigued chest. He tries to call out for anyone, cries out for help. He tries to exclaim to his girlfriend-- to Enid -- but his tongue is glued to the palate of his mouth and all that comes out is something hardly audible, something small and shaky, almost as if he's ashamed to voice it.

“..Y/n.”

Carl feels his face hot and pulsing; he gasps at his own, tiny word, his fingers towing at the roots of the long hair cascading down the sides of his flushed cheeks. He feels his sealed eye congest with tears, his shoulders quaking slightly as cold sweat seeps down the broad expansion of his back. He recalls the conversation he had with his father all those years ago, now feeling a bit calmer as he remembers Rick's wise words.

"Son, be with the one who makes you happy. Don't stay with someone just because you don't want to hurt them; people move on, but you cannot stay alone and hopeless. You're still small, Carl, but when they come in your life, you'll know it. You'll just know, because they will make you happy."

Carl's freckled nose twitched a little, and he shuffled next to the old Sherriff, staring off at the distance, where his father had his eyes pinned to. He gave a small scoff, lifting the hat on his hair which was too big for his fleecy head and fell in his face.

"How will I know, dad? I doubt I can even feel that way about someone else, much more them feeling special about me... Tough guys aren't supposed to be vulnerable like that. You once said that it would make me feel helpless; I don't like that. How am I supposed to protect you and mom if I feel like that?"

Rick gave a low chuckle at his son's innocence and naivety. "Everyone goes crazy without having someone to love and someone to love them. Life then has no motive, you know? Weak people, tough people.. One day, Carl, mom and I will be gone, and it will be just you. I won't be there to protect you. So, you have to be real careful about who you let in your life and who not. Leave the assholes out of it, keep the ones that make you happy in it, and you will be a man filled with joy. And choose the one that will stand by your side; trust your instincts and be with the one your heart tells you to. Because, only then you will find true happiness."

Carl looks down at his hands, feeling a warm current of water trickle down his blushing cheek. "It's not that easy, dad..." He whispers half-heartedly, lowering his head and staring at the grey floor. "She...She's with someone else, too. I can't just tell her how I feel, how much it tortures me... I'm with Enid, she's with John... It just won't work out, no matter how much I try. But, I.. I can't just keep lying to Enid. I think she suspects something troubles me, dad... I-I don't know what to do! I am so fucked up, this is such a mess..."

Carl breathes out slowly, lightly shaking his head. What the fuck is wrong with me? The young man heftily stands up, exuding a loud whoosh of air. Enid would be here any moment, now; they had organized something like a 'double-date' and Carl gave a tedious groan. Oh, yeah, he was just dying to go. Especially since Y/n and John would be there. He couldn't just stand the idea of them cuddling, kissing and hold hands in front of him. Enid then would feel all left out and cling on Carl's arm, peppering small kisses all over the side of his face and mewling at him to kiss her. That's how it always went, anyway. Carl wasn't very fond of it; specifically doing that before people... and her and because...well, because when he pressed his lips to Enid's he felt empty. It wasn't that he hated it to the point he would be disgusted, no; Enid's lips were always plump and soft and she kissed quite well... But, Carl just wasn't feeling it. It wasn't like kissing someone and actually feeling your knees buckle and your hands shake with excitement, nor was one of those gentle pecks where you would merely press your lips against all surfaces and feel satisfied and sated. It was just blank and dull, at the point where he'd pretend not to feel good at times, just to avoid it.

Carl almost jumped out of his skin when he heard the doorbell ring from downstairs. He felt a bit embarrassed; he was supposed to be fully clothed and ready, yet he was still merely in his boxers briefs. The young man scoffed, snatching the pair of trousers he wore daily and scurrying downstairs, trying to put on the jeans in the whole procedure, cursing and belching underneath his breath. Finally, Carl messily buckled his belt and tried to smooth his unkempt hair a bit, answering the door and peeking out shyly.

"Hey! Don't tell me you're still not ready..."

Carl averted his eyes awkwardly and cleared his throat, feeling his ears burn slightly as Enid slowly welcomed herself in, closing the door behind her. He slightly flinched once her palms made contact with his bare chest, shuffling back a bit. Enid gave him her sweet smile, grinning broadly as she leaned up, toward him.

"I missed you." She muttered, nuzzling his nude collarbone and sighing softly against his skin. Carl's throat clamped as the girl slightly strained her neck to reach his face, her lips pressing against his own into a light kiss. She pulled back with a smile, giggling at Carl's cute, confused face. Before the boy could utter a word, she grabbed his hand, tugging him toward her.

"Come on, lazy! Get ready, they're waiting for us!"

"What do you think is taking them so long?"

Y/n lifted her head and considered John's question. His tone was, of course, bothered and her boyfriend was evidently bored. Carl and Enid hadn't taken that long, but she didn't blame him; he always got mad at the little things, the ones that weren't crucial. She hesitantly reached over and touched the boy's hand, knowing all too well that John was going to get quite angry if someone didn't soothe his nerves. The fingers curling around her hand were rough and calloused, slightly comforting, but they would be much more pleasant if they belonged to another soul.

Y/n loved John. She did, but she wasn't sure anymore. The young man was so sweet and kind in the near past, yet had grown into a very lewd and brash adult. Y/n's heart drops in her stomach as she recalls him bringing her a withered daisy when they were younger, yet it was the loveliest thing anyone has ever done for her. She had hoped their relationship would have gotten further than this. John was starting to ask her about having sex, and the girl wasn't very fond of the idea. It just did not feel right, to open up to him. He was a very possessive and was one of these men that wanted to do everything rough, just to show how 'virile' they are and conceal their deep insecurities. Y/n didn't like the sound of that, especially because she knew what kind of person John grew into. She gave it a try one time, but she despised the way he touched her, the vulgar way he spoke and stopped in the middle of it all. At least she maintained her dignity.

Y/n's breath hitched once she felt John's large palm groping her thigh, and she looked down, visibly uncomfortable. She brought her hand and gave a threatening squeeze, her fingers folding all the way and slightly hurting him. John scoffed from beside her, but didn't say anything. He merely removed his hand, pressing his cheek on the heel of his palm until it plumped out. He blew a raspberry, patently turned-off by his girlfriend's resistor. "You're such a fucking mood killer." He said with a grunt, his sordid words stinging a bit more than they should.

"Guess who's coming." Muttered John with a snort, making a spiteful face as he saw Carl and Enid approaching them in the old shed. "Good ol' Carl."

"I don't get why you don't like Carl, John... He's very sweet and kind and he cares about his friends." Y/n smiled at herself a little, her ears burning with slight embarrassment as she realized how charming the Sheriff's son was. I'm talking like this is some kind of shitty, melodramatic love-story, she thought quietly to herself as she fidgeted with her fingers and let out a small chuckle. Yet she retained her feelings, much to her great shame.

"How you guys doin’?" Greeted John with a wide, confident grin. "Woah, Carl, your hair's a fucking mess. Were you two doing some freaky stuff or some shit like that?"

Enid gave a small laugh and shook her head, taking a seat across John and shaking her head. "Nah. Carl just sleeps late and doesn't get up until it's noon."

Carl looks a little uneasy as he perches beside her, clearing his throat as he shows a tiny smile. The thick Adam's apple in his freckled throat bobs as he gulps down tensely, a trickle of bleak sweat lathering the side of his milky neck.

"I don't sleep until noon..." crooned the young man bashfully, sending a knowing glare to Enid's way, one which she paid absolutely no heed to. Carl fell silent as Enid and John began chatting, laughing loudly and spewing jokes here and there. The old boy's breathing quickened once he felt a gentle prod on his knee; something was touching him beneath the little table they had set, and a little voice in his mind whispered to him that he was going to like who the daring touch was from. Carl swallowed down nervously and looked up, watching as Y/n showed him a sheepish smile. The young man felt his heart calm a little bit, his stomach fluttering as blood rushed somewhere else. Carl breathed out mutely, unable to neglect the sensation as he momentarily closed his porcelain eye.

Oh, dear God.

Y/n hadn't meant to cause that kind of reaction, but Carl's flaming body couldn't tame itself. It needed just a tad of stimulation, and that light touch from her was enough to set his lower body on fire. Carl blew out a hot exhale as she slowly retrieved her hand, thankfully, and gave him a small smile. "You alright?" She questioned as a dell, rippling laugh flew from her throat. The young man strongly resisted the intense notion of literally delving his hand beneath the table and probing between her thighs. "Yeah," he managed hoarsely, with a shaky laugh. "Never been better."

John and Enid had said that they were exhausted as the night grew full of laughs, congested with lively conversations. The two had gone to their homes, yawning as they told their partners a sincere 'Goodnight' and left. They were in their beds, now, fatigued and cramped from laughing at the dirty jokes Carl had told.

Oh, boy, was the atmosphere heavy, now.

Carl could feel her as she breathed, her body slightly shuffling from beside him. She was so close, so deliciously close, but he couldn't touch her. He wasn't allowed to. Whenever his hands presumed on their own, he brought them right back, gluing them to his body. Y/n was talking, her voice now incredibly soft, as if he could touch it and feel feathers tickle his fingers.

"John is very... forward, at times. And very rough. It's not like he hits me, no, he actually hasn't lied a hand on me, in that matter. He's not, like, a bad person... but he isn't good either. You get me?" Y/n gazed down at her tangled hands, feeling lost on words. She was unsure if it was the right thing to share her personal feelings with Carl; she was afraid that he might make fun of her, or pity her, or just know her weak spots from then on, a thing which is never good. She didn't like to feel vulnerable with anyone; it was like that person was just holding her in their hand like a stale bread crump, one that could smother into smithereens if they closed their hand and decided to destroy it.

"I get you," replied Carl softly. He knew all things regarding consolation, and when it came to that point in his life, he knew exactly what to do. Well, most of times, anyway. He had comforted so many people, had listened to their problems and soothed their pain, as best as he could. It was never easy, because people needed different kinds of comfort, all from different people; yet Carl was one. Not much of a talker, but a great listener, always. "Enid can be pretty nasty, sometimes, too. Sometimes she yells at me a lot, says very bad things to me, which make me feel very.. awful about myself, y'know? I feel like I haven't quite found the person who will... stand by my side, as my dad used to say. Because you just feel these things, right? When the right person comes along then... you just understand."

Y/n considered Carl's wise words for a moment, but said nothing. She reached a conclusion; She wasn't happy, because she wanted someone else and it was killing her; tormenting her that he was right beside her body and she couldn't have him. Only for herself, even if it sounded purely selfish.

"Maybe we are the wrong couples..." joked Y/n with a nervous laugh, her heart thumping dangerously in her chest when she realized what she just said. It only made matters worse, and she averted her eyes, feeling heat crawling up her neck and sending a shiver down her back. There was a dead silence, one which made her heart tremble like a little fish flopping out its waters. "I-I'm joking, of course! Ha-ha..." Her voice burst out suddenly, her eyes cast upon the floor as she breathed out heavily, toying around with her fingers and tugging at them with her fingernails. She sighed and shook her head, biting down at her lower lip.

“..Carl.”

What am I supposed to say? That I want someone like you? That I want you? Please, say something... I knew I shouldn't have said this stupid shit! He probably thinks I'm a freak or some shit like that... But, I don't care. I just... Come on, Carl... I'm too much of a pussy; Please, kiss me. Let's just forget about them for a moment and just let ourselves go... I just want to forget everything.. Make me forget. Can't you see that I'm crazy for you? Can't you see that I love you? Don't actually... It'll just make things weirder.

Y/n almost gasped aloud when she felt a sturdy grasp around her arm, her eyes glistening like pearls when she turned and looked. Carl's fervent, blue iris was staring at her with vehemence, and he seemed serious, his lips pressed tightly together in a fine line as he leered down at her. His look of ardor made her feel small and helpless, and her heart pitter-pattered beneath her ribs like a jackhammer. Her hand dared and brushed against his knuckles, and her breath hitched as he slowly neared her face, searching for any signs of revulsion; but found none.

Her eyes grew heavier and she got closer desperately, breathing raggedly as she viewed his fleshy lips. "Carl." She almost whined, swathing her arms around him and hotly pressing their mouths together. She exuded an indignant mewl against him, feeling a large wave of relief carrying her body when he fervently kissed her back. Y/n felt light-headed in Carl's embrace, shuddering bodily when he lowly moaned against her undulating lips. Her heart pulsed in a lively rhythm, pleased that it got what it had craved for, for so long. The young man immured her with his zealous kisses, his thick brows slanted together as he braced one hand against her neck, holding her jaw and lower cheek within his warm palm. Her fingers delved gently against his scalp, caressing the tendrils of his wavy mane and slightly hauling at the roots.

When they let the kiss loose, they breathed in small gasps, foreheads tightly pressed together as they let each other regain their composure for a moment. It is so wrong, but feels so right, so good. Why do the pleasing things must always be wrong? Yet at the moment, none of the two could afford to care, because they were finally together, twined at the souls.

Y/n could feel the warm rivulet of a tear bursting against her skin and slowly lathering her cheek; She had never felt loved like this, she had felt whole like this. Was love really such a sinful crime? If it was, they were certainly criminals; partners in crime, because both of them got such a burning satisfaction while committing it. Their desperate hands the needle of the pen, their swollen lips the death sentence.

When his lips assaulted her neck, she felt heady, intoxicated. She would let him do anything to her, and didn't mind in the least. She felt her pearly eyes sting with happy tears; raindrops of pure glee. Because, fuck, how can a person feel happier?

"I love you," He whispered against the smooth lope of her neck, the skin there flushed from the former invasion of his passionate lips. And as he slowly lowered her on the small sofa below them, he knew; nothing could spoil this moment, nothing. She didn't struggle, she didn't squirm in discomfort; she just went along with the flow of his movements, accepting anything he had to give her, to show her.

Carl soothed her pain as he kissed her, tasting the bitter palate of pure zest mingled with fright, his tongue gently seeking out her own. Y/n felt dizzy as she cradled his head within her handfuls, feeling the slight hesitation and ache of the body pressed against her own, all of it bundling around their tormented love. Feeling loved felt so good. Being with the one you want, even if they aren't the prettiest, the tallest, the most talented, but just them. And it hurt, because once this night was over, they would have to live reality again, next to people they didn't love; Because, they can't make them stop, they can't make them stop.

Because they can't pacify them.

His tongue felt so sweet, his hands like lace and his taste bittersweet. Because they didn't want to stop, because they refused to stop. Y/n could feel Carl's hands tugging at her robes; the sound of clothing rustling was too evident, he wanted to get rid of it. He only wanted to listen to the sound of her skin, gliding smoothly against his own. But, Carl knew that they couldn't, not tonight. He wouldn't risk a thing, but he would take care of her, because you never leave a lady waiting; if you're a man, you will find your way. And he did, he found the way. It was dirty and naughty, and Carl's cheeks felt hot only thinking about it, but he would do it; Because he wanted to, she wanted to, they wanted to.

Y/n could feel her body being on fire; she felt the gentle prod of that unmistakable swelling between his thighs and felt hazy, her mouth watering at all the inappropriate notions spilling within her mind. She let his gruff hands rid of the trousers covering her lower half, her legs quivering with anticipation as each of them slowly bared themselves to him. Y/n breathed out a low oath when he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her chest, where the fabric of her blouse had slightly descended and displayed the naked skin beneath. She gently caressed his hair as he briefly sucked on a soft bit of flesh, feeling a knurl in her throat when his fingers looped beneath her knickers and presumed to glide the cotton material down her legs.

She emitted a shaky breath, her body arching a little once he brought his hand and gently caressed the dark patch of wild curls between her legs, his nostrils flaring as he took in the sight. Because, fucking hell. He carefully rubbed lower with the pads of his fingers, cautious not to apply much pressure anywhere where it could hurt. Y/n's shoulder blades protruded as her body tensed, his antics making her supple skin birth gooseflesh. It felt oddly pleasant; being touched like this. She gulped down nervously, her neck lightly trembling when the peak of his digit found her entrance, lightly teasing the sensitive, virgin petals, which immediately clamped down at the sensation. Carl must have seen them twitch, because he began breathing heavily, the air coming harshly out of his nose.

"Carl.." She said it like a prayer, almost a warning as her chest fluttered rhythmically with the pounds of her heart.

When Carl gently spread the nether lips apart, he bowed his head, his tongue broadly ghosting over the delicate flesh. It was then when her thighs tried to close and she cried out softly, feeling overwhelmed by the sensations licking up and down her body. Carl gently held them apart, continuing his delicious torture; intrigued by the way her body reacted to it. His pink tongue meekly licked at the small nub protruding, almost challenging him and inviting him closer, and Y/n's hips twitched up zealously, her voice tattered as she tried to speak, but failed as the breathtaking sensations took over her bucking body, making the muscles in her abdomen contort.

The evening was blurry and filled with lewd noises, and at the end, the small sofa in the shed was soaked and Carl's lips and chin were glistening with her arousal. She cried out toward the ceiling, grasping the back of his head and clasping her hand to her chest, her face distorting and flushing with red and her lips parted as she frantically tried to breathe. It seemed that hours had passed when Carl at last stopped, his mouth covered in the dew she released when she came. And when she finally did, she called out his name, as if he would soothe her, as if he would caress and stroke her body.

The young man flashed a toothy grin, running his soft tongue over his lips and swallowing the remnants of the strong-flavored liquid. He chuckled as she gave him a knowing look, her mouth cutely pursed into a pouty frown. Carl pressed a kiss to her forehead and smiled, letting her take his stubbly jaw into her palms and kiss him. He giggled softly when she made a face at the taste his lips had from the sticky intercourse prior, but grinned sleepily and reposed her head against his chest.

For once, it all didn't seem so bad. They rested for a while, then Carl aided Y/n to get dressed, and they exchanged a little kiss before they went their separate ways, to separate homes. When they got home, they couldn't help the big, silly grins taking over their flushed faces and went to their beds, because that night was certainly quite tiring. They didn't have to live forced anymore. Because, hell, they could live their lives as they decided. And they decided to live it together. Because they didn't give a damn about what anyone would say, and because finally they were free and hand in hand.

Because, together, they could pacify them.

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