#is it a low effort banner? yes. is it a banner? also yes. take what y’all can get.

[ravenlking]

Appearances

𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐋 "I don't often do favors for free, Divus. You ought to know as such. But romancing and tricking someone? That should be fun for the goddess of mischief..."

part of the astrid lokidottir/perseus lokison series! warnings: - it does get a bit! heated towards the end, but nothing scandalous a/n: - the banner belongs to me, but the pictures is from the official manga! please do not steal! - yes, divus crewel is a confirmed love interest! bro when i first saw him, i was like "TWST TEACHERS ARE SO HOT LIKE WHAT???" if he asked me to jump off a cliff, i'll happily do it with a grin - please give me feedback :)

Let me know if you'd like more!

Let's set the scene.

A rare moment indeed, to see Night Raven College's professor of Magic Arts in his- no, her true form. Ebony black hair with stripes of emerald was neatly tied in a low ponytail, stray bits hanging in front of her eyes, and her navy blue eyes glimmered even underneath the lowly-lit lamp. Delicate fingers flipped the pages of her book as her other hand was used to write down notes to plan for her next class.

This is the scene that Divus Crewel walks to see. Astrid Lokidottir, planning diligently for her next lessons, in the living room shared by all teachers in Night Raven College. His maroon gloves suddenly feel very hot and sweat trickles down his face upon approaching the goddess. Just as he was within a meter's range, Astrid shut the book close and snapped her head up to meet Divus's grey-silver eyes. He stumbled slightly but regained his posture.

"What do you require from me? Speak."

Divus coughs before handing her an elegant invitation; Astrid took it gracefully. Upon opening it, her eyes scanned it quickly; her face was emotionless and bare of revealing her true feelings. Divus quickly explained.

"Would you mind being my plus-one? I need to get some unwanted fangirls off my back," he spoke, settling for the seat next to her love couch. When she finished, Astrid slid the invitation across the coffee table before picking up her notes and book.

"Denied."

His eyes widened. "Why not?"

Astrid tapped the invitation with a well-manicured finger. "Too much effort. It also falls on a school day."

"It's only the evening until late at night," Divus argued. "It wouldn't affect you at all! You only need to hang near me so the annoying women wouldn't harass me. That's all."

She stared back at him. "My answer is no, Divus."

Divus politely leaped from his seat and half-kneeled next to the goddess. His hands found hers, silently imploring her to do so.

"Please, Astrid. As a favor," even though her frigid face didn't as much twitch, Divus continued. "You get to trick hundreds of important people! You get to have your mischief and cause slight mayhem in the politics of Twisted Wonderland..."

He trailed off. Astrid, for one, had put down her items and was staring into his eyes. She crossed her legs, a hand under her chin while the other was still in his gloved hands. A devious smirk climbed onto her lips, looking right at home upon those pale Cupid's bow.

"I don't often do favors for free, Divus. You ought to know as such. But romancing and tricking someone? That should be fun for the goddess of mischief..."

_____________________Later that evening________________________

Divus, heart eyes: You look magnificent...

Astrid: This? This is the bare minimum. Mortals wouldn't stand a chance when they feast their eyes upon my true beauty.

Divus: Well then, shall we get going? Your chariot awaits, my goddess.

Astrid double-checks the masquerade ball mask on her face one last time before nodding. Divus takes her arm and leads her away, unknowingly giving the NRC students more to gossip about.

Ace: Holy shit- Professor Crewel can actually be nice to someone??

Deuce: Ace, we shouldn't be here! We should be feeding the flamingoes!

Divus and Astrid have arrived and just entered the ballroom. It is magnificent, almost being able to rival Asgard's ballrooms with the amount of luxurious decorations and atmosphere.

Woman #1: Sevens- who is that next to my Divus??

Woman #2, fluttering eyes: Divus is so hot today.

Astrid, rolling her eyes: So this is what you put up with every other year? I truly feel sorry for you.

Divus, tightening his arm around her waist: Yeah...but luckily I have you this year.

Astrid: I'm not going to be here forever you know...I have somewhere else to be. My true home.

Divus: I know.

Divus, leaning in to whisper into her ear: But I'll make the most out of it.

Crowley: Divus! Is that you with Ms. Lokidottir? I never thought I'd see the day!

Divus: Yes...and who might you be with this year, Dire?

Crowley: Single, my friend! Single and not yet ready to mingle, as the youngsters say.

Astrid: Pft- Of course, headmaster, of course.

Crowley, leans in: My dear, blink twice if you ever need me to replace Divus. He can be a bit...too much to handle when drunk.

Divus: Dire!

Astrid: I'll take you up on that offer if needed.

Divus: Astrid!

Lo and behold, he's drunk. Hammered. Barely functioning.

Despite the stares and glares, Divus is slumped against Astrid, babbling aimlessly whatever thought first appears in his head.

Divus, cuddling her: A-Astrid...you look ngh beautiful....

Astrid, poker faced: I know that Divus.

Divus,pressing his head in the crook of her exposed collarbone: You smell hic! so nice t-too...

Astrid: I know that Divus.

Divus, pressing an opened mouth kisses: Then, do y-you know that I a-admire you, ngh Astrid? That I-I want to court you?

Astrid, sighing: Divus, you're drunk.

Divus: N-no, I'm not!

The next day, Divus arises from his slumber, his head ringing and hurting as it if a bus crashed into him. He runs a hand through his messy black-white hair before stumbling out of bed. The moment he opens his door, he meets Astrid's eyes who look him up and down.

Astrid: Oh good, you're awake.

Divus: What happened- oh

Unfortunately, or fortunately for Divus, Astrid is wearing a loose t-shirt that exposes part of her collarbone. Her pale skin is littered with little reddish patches that look oddly like hickeys. Suddenly, Divus remembers everything from last night with clear details. How he was so drunk that he was all over Astrid if it weren't for Crowley enchanting a gentle sleep spell to prevent him from going further.

Noticing where he is looking, Astrid smirks.

Astrid: I see, so you regained your memories.

Divus: Astrid, I am so so sorry-

Astrid strides forward before slamming her hands on the wall above him. With a little magic, Astrid towers over Divus, looking down on him with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Astrid: Why should you be sorry? If anything, you should have done more...

Divus:

Divus:

Divus, gulping, but internally: HECK YES

[citybeautifulsigns]

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[elmaxlys]

I'm gonna be honest for a second because if anon didn't understand sarcasm last time, there's no guarantee it will register this time either

Yes the TGSMP is on hold until at least next week-end

It has to do with the fact my health, both physical and mental, is dropping fast and low. The only thing I've been able to do is read, this entire week, and even that is hard. I'm trying to get myself back on my feet and the drawing I posted yesterday (Tenkuu Shinpan Beach Episode AU) is a small step toward being creative again, and I'm sorry to say but making the banners is way, wayyy more taxing than a simple doodle - and this simple doodle took a lot. Not as much as I expected, so progress yay, but still a lot.

The Number 1 Rule of Fandom is and has always been "if you don't like the way other people are doing it, then don't complain and do it yourself" fandom is a hobby, we're all doing this for fun and for free

So anon, go ahead. Instead of being a rude little shit hiding behind anonymity in my inbox, take a swing at making the banners, spending hours at a time to find the right panel so it's not too repetitive but still looks nice, to redraw it in the missing parts of a texte bubble or another character, to edit it so it doesn't look too bad when it's with colorful illustrations, to come up with summaries that are both descriptive and concise enough, to make the polls make the bracket update the lists reblog regularly (I've been failing even that, hence why I'm waiting a bit before resuming) see people trash talk your favs in the tags and learn to laugh it off because yeah you do trash talk your fav's opponents too fair enough. Go ahead anon. If you can complain, you can do it too and I look forward to voting in your poll.

You can also grow some balls and come off anon to ask "hey max I see you haven't been uploading polls in a bit, are you alright? Is there any way I can help?" and I'd say that indeed I'm struggling a bit but I'm getting there, new polls soon 💪 oh and would you happen to know in which chapter i can get a nice full-body panel of this character?

Or you could make propaganda for your favs and I'd feel a bit more motivated to work on it just to please you becsuse yes! people are excited about this thing! My efforts are not completely worthless :D (if you do, tag it 'tgsmp propaganda' or 'tg sexyman poll' and I should see and reblog it. Mention you're the anon, too, so I can block you)

Hell you can even send me money asking me to work faster and I guarantee you it'd be far more effective than whatever you're trying to achieve with messages like that.

Because you know what messages from entitled asshole like the ones you sent not once but fucking TWICE achieve? Make people quit. Just one thing, sometimes - fandom activity entirely, way more often. Now as I've repeatedly proven I'm a spiteful, salty bastard (and I don't forgive, sorry that's it's not very catholic of me). Quitting the entire TGSMP just to annoy one anon is totally up my alley even if I were 100% motivated to keep going (this was in my mind after the first message. I was doing fine at the time, just busy with work), so don't tempt me further, anon. I can drop this any fucking day. This is internet, I don't owe you anything and, since you decided to tick the anon, I don't even know you ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Your tokyo ghoul sexyman is taking too long. It is becoming boring and uninteresting

Your anonymous comment is too repetitive. It is becoming boring and cowardly

Also, this might help:

(the unfollow button is also available on people's profiles! hope that helps!)

[twsted-seas]

Congrats on the milestone! For a drabble, how about some Idia and Azul board game club interactions? Can be platonic or more shippy depending on how you’re feeling!

Sorry this took a little bit longer! I wanted to do right by my boys.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38856336

Or, read on below!

Azul stared over his steepled fingers at Ortho, ignoring the wheezing Idia next to him. He glanced down at the chess board, counted the pieces, glanced back to Ortho, then back to the board.

“Ortho… where are the missing pieces?”

Idia finally lost the battle with his laughter, cackling and collapsing sideways onto the cushioned arm of the couch. Ortho smiled innocently.

“Ortho… I swear if you ate them like Floyd tried to -” and that was enough to make Ortho crack, giggling childishly as Idia fell off the couch from how hard he was laughing.

“Sorry, sorry Azul-san! Floyd and Jade told me what happened and I couldn’t help myself…” The android smiled sheepishly, opening a latch on his side to reveal a container with the missing pieces inside. He set them on the board gently, closing up the latch with a snap and standing from the table. “Thanks for playing with me Azul-san, I promise I’ll take it seriously next time!”

Azul just sighed, leaning back on the pillows of the couch and poking the still gasping Idia on the floor with his foot. “It’s fine, I should have expected that. I do expect you to give me a serious match in the future, however.”

Ortho grinned and nodded, bouncing slightly on the new leg mods Idia had given him after a… chat… with the Leech twins. “Sure thing, Azul-san! It’s a deal!” Azul sighed and Ortho just snickered. “I promised the Prefect that I would join their team for a Magishift rec match today, though, so that’ll have to be next time. Bye, Azul-san! I’ll be by to pick you up later, nii-san!”

Azul and Idia waved as the flame-haired boy flew off, the door banging behind him. The octopus mer looked down as Idia finally began to calm, splayed out on the ground with a teasing, sharp-toothed grin on his face.

“It wasn’t that funny, you know.”

“You’re right, it was only hilarious.” Azul accidentally knocked a pillow into Idia’s face, sending the other boy into another round of snickers as he sat up and shoved the pillow back at Azul. “The expression on your face! You were so confused! And then, that moment of realization-!”

“Yes, yes, I’m glad you enjoyed me making a fool of myself. Again.” Azul was not pouting, thank you very much. He was just contemplating what decisions he had made over the course of his life that led to not one but two different opponents essentially eating the chess pieces in front of him without him noticing.

“Aww, come on Azul-shi, you know Ortho was just playing.” Idia lifted an arm up to Azul, waving it at him pathetically while looking up with a pout of his own. Azul shook his head but reached down to lift the other boy up and back onto the couch nonetheless. “You know he doesn’t get a lot of opportunities to just… be a kid. Most people are still uncomfortable around him… some of the normies would freak out if Ortho had even opened his stomach compartment like that…”

It was Azul’s turn to reach out to Idia, leaning his shoulder against the taller boys’ and making him jump. “It’s hardly your or his fault that so many of our classmates are fools. If half of the entire student body agree to make a deal with me while knowing full well that their servitude is on the line…”

Idia’s laughter was meaner this time, the edge that was usually kept buried by his anxiety coming through. “Ehehe, that’s true. There’s no accounting for taste or smarts with normies.”

Azul merely hummed in agreement, pushing up his glasses before beginning to pack up the chess pieces. “Luckily for us, we only have to deal with them when it’s to our benefit. Now then, what would you like to play next?”

Idia shrugged, toppling back over to spread out along the couch, stretching his arms up and over his head before settling back into the excess of pillows they had collected. “Ehh, I dunno. I don’t really feel like doing anything too complicated today.”

“So what, Triumph of Chaos? Empire of Sun? Advanced Squad Leader? Twilight Struggle?”

Idia groaned, lifting up a pillow and burying his face in it. “Azul-shi, if you pull any of those out, I will cry, and then call Ortho back to hit you for me.”

The Octavinelle dorm leader laughed before pulling out a worn copy of Battleship, shaking the game in Idia’s direction before the Ignihyde leader cautiously pulled the pillow off his face, brightening at the sight and nodding in agreement.

“Please, we both know you wouldn’t pull Ortho away from his fun. This may be the only time the Prefect’s team absolutely decimates their opponents at Magishift.”

Idia grinned, spreading his hands out in a shrug.”True, but you know he’d still get revenge later for making his nii-san cry.”

“Hence, Battleship.” Azul took Ortho’s previous place at the table, pulling up the cushioned chair as Idia squirmed down the couch to reach the pieces more easily, fighting off a yawn as he did. The silver haired-boy frowned, glancing at the dark bags under his companions' eyes. “Did you stay up too late again, last night? We can, of course, postpone this meeting if required.”

“Nahhhhh, I wanna keep going. We don’t get many opportunities to play without the rest of the club. Not that they can’t be fun, but… ya know.”

Azul did, in fact, know.

“I suppose that’s fair enough. But if you do need to take a nap, do let me know. I have plenty to work on that I can manage from here if you’d like me to stay while you sleep.”

Idia nodded, not meeting Azul’s eyes as he finished setting up the game. “Thanks, Azul-shi… maybe later.”

“Perfect. Now then… shall I guess that you have a ship at F6?”

“Ehhh? On your first guess? Were you looking, Azul-shi?” The octopus mer merely pushed up his glasses and smirked while Idia sighed and shook his head. “Unfair…” The blue-haired boy stuck a little red marker on his ship before collapsing back onto the pillows, mock-glaring at Azul.

They both knew neither would bother cheating at something as simple as this, not against each other, but it was all part of the game.

“Alright then, let me guess… H8?” Azul sighed and held up a red piece as Idia cackled triumphantly. “I think this game gets faster and faster the more we play it.”

“You may have a point, there.”

True to their guesses, they were able to finish three matches within thirty minutes, at which point both had more than their fill of squinting at each other over the board and throwing red pins and sunken ships at each other during fake squabbles and losses.

“2-1 in your favor, Azul-shi. I think I’m done for the day…” Idia leaned back into the couch with a sigh, fighting off his thirtieth yawn in as many minutes. “I think… I might take you up on that nap offer… can you wake me up when it’s almost time for Ortho to return?”

Azul nodded easily enough, collecting the pieces for both of them and putting the board away. “Certainly, if you can spare someone to look at the lighting in Mostro Lounge later this month. We’ll be installing new light fixtures over the bar and I’m afraid we can’t trust just anyone with such delicate work.”

“Sure, sure, Ortho can swing by easily enough, just let us know when. Want me to sign something?”

“Your word is enough for this, I should think. Sleep well, Idia.”

“‘Night, Azul…”

The businessman stood quietly, putting away the board game and tidying up the clubroom before returning to the table, moving to sit near the already sleeping Ignihyde dorm leader. He pulled out the papers from his messenger bag, setting up two piles for schoolwork and the Mostro Lounge. Azul glanced over one more time at Idia, reaching out to brush the fly-away flames from the other’s face, taking only a moment to marvel at the magic in the gentle fire before returning to work.

It was just another day in the Boardgames Club.

And if Azul helped Ortho surprise Idia awake, and if Ortho showed up at the Mostro Lounge later that month to help with the lighting anyway, well. That was just part of the private game played between Azul and Idia.

[stargazer-balladeer]

it’s my birthday soon and i’ve always felt lonely during my birthdays— so if it’s alright, can i request headcanons for scaramouche, xiao, and albedo with an s/o who only locks themselves in their bedroom because they don’t feel special enough to even celebrate their birthday? thank you 🥺

S/o’s birthday but locks themselves in their rooms because they don’t feel special [Genshin Impact]

Characters Included: Albedo, Scaramouche & Xiao

Notes: 👁👄👁 the title is so long- i don’t know how to shorten it- hshshs. Btw, HAPPY ADVANCE BDAY ANON-!! I KNOW THAT FEELING ANON- SO UR NOT ALONE 🤧🤧 if you want to talk, you can msg me anytime-! You deserve to be showered with love-! Hope ya’ll like this!

Reader’s Gender: Neutral

Warning: none

[aether, childe, diluc, kaeya, venti]

Albedo

As much as Albedo wants to remember your birthday, he just forgets because of many things running through his mind. Especially when it comes to new discovery. He’ll be so sorry when he remembered that your birthday was today-

At first, Albedo had a hard time looking for you. He asked everyone- yes even Diluc, Kaeya, Jean, Klee, everyone- but no one has seen you. Which made him worried since no one has seen you the entire day—

He would literally tear down Mondstadt trying to find you until he remembered that he hasn’t check your house yet. When he finds that you’ve been locked up in your room the entire day, it literally broke his heart- ;w;

He would feel like it’s his fault that you don’t feel special, like bro- he would have a sad puppy face on. He will put his hands on either side of your face and make you face him-

“You are special. You are like the sun. You are like a (God/Goddess). Even if you don’t feel special yourself, you’re special to me. And since you’re my beloved, my (prince/princess), you deserve all the happiness and love in the world. You deserve to feel special on your special day. So smile, I don’t want to see any tears.”

Albedo would do anything you want, probably to make up his forgetfulness- :p if you want cuddles, then cuddles you’ll get. If you want a cake or something, he’ll try to bake something, no promises though. (Its the thought that counts, right? 👀).

Albedo would use his ability of drawing and bringing them to life. He would draw all sorts of things, bunnies, squirrels, flowers, and others. He knew that you love watching him draw and bringing them to life. It honestly warms his heart knowing you love what he’s passionate about.

If you want, Albedo could talk to you about all the things he found out recently. All of the research and things he discovered. If you ever question some things regarding about what he discovered, he would happily try to explain it. (It’s honestly adorable seeing him explaining the things he discovered in his research- 🤧)

At the end of the day (around 11-), he would cuddle with you while laying beside you. Every so often, he would press a kiss on your head.

“Happy Birthday, my love. May many more to come... the next time your birthday come, I promise we’ll celebrate it together properly.”

Scaramouche

If you think that Scaramouche doesn’t care about your birthday, then you’re right-! 😃 I’m joking- (unless-). He honestly wants to spend your birthday together with you, but his duty as a Harbinger comes first.

Believe me when I say he feels guilty. Leaving you alone on your special day is honestly low, even for him. He would definitely try to finish all of his missions immediately to get back to you. He would do whatever means necessary to finish them all immediately (he might or might not have sacrificed some people in the process- 👀).

You can imagine his confusion when he couldn’t find you anywhere. He already has something set up for you, all he needs is the birthday person themselves. But he couldn’t you anywhere.

Someone better tell him to check your room or else he would literally tear down the Fatui headquarters just to look for you-! He seriously need to manage his anger- 😓

Scaramouche would find it weird to he finds out that you’ve been in your room for the entire day. At first, he didn’t understand why you’re doing this. But soon, he’ll understand. Afterall, he might’ve done that before..

This guy has no manner whatsoever as he just entered your room like he owns the place- one look at you and the next thing you know is that he’s pampering you- like he’ll be preparing a bath for you and choosing an outfit for you (he’s a fashionista, change my mind 😃). Like bro, who are you and what happened to Scaramouche?

“Tsk. You’re quite a handful, you do know that, correct? Making me go through all this effort to comfort you. Now tell me, who put that idea on your head? Was it your family? Was it someone else? I honestly want to murder whoever put that idea in your pathetic head. ‘Not special to celebrate your birthday’? Ha! Don’t make me laugh. Everyone deserves to feel special, even if its for one day. Now, stop being stubborn and enjoy it-!”

Scaramouche would pamper you so much, like his personality did a 180- he would be pressing kisses all over your body and praising you like theres no tomorrow. He would help you dry yourself and put on the outfit he chose for you. If your hair is long, he would help styling it.

He would take you on a fancy dinner date (this guy is also rich, fite me—). He would honestly spoil you lmao- so enjoy it while it lasts- 😃

“Don’t expect this everyday, okay? I’m not gonna put much effort the next time... still.. happy birthday, my beloved. Don’t ever feel like you’re not special when you’re special to me.. if you ever feel sad, come to me. Thank you for putting up with me.”

Xiao

(Yes I’ve remade the Xiao banner again- 🤧🤧 im very indecisive ik-)

Celebrating birthday? What’s that? Xiao honestly didn’t think much of it since centuries pass by with his day of birth passing each time, he never really thought much of it. Never bothered celebrating it.

But when he found out (from Verr or Rex Lapis/Zhongli) that the mortals celebrate their birthdays, he honestly doesn’t have a clue on how to celebrate it. So he might seek the help of Verr or the Traveller.

He does his best. Please give him credit for trying- ;;w;; He’ll try his best to make something for you. It won’t be anything grand. A simple picnic near Wangshu Inn with some Almond Tofu and other food-

So when the day of your birthday came, Xiao is nervous. He doesn’t know if you’ll like the surprise or not. But when he started to look for you, he was confused when he couldn’t find you before growing worried.

Unlike the other bois, he would immediately check your room before tearing the place down- when he finds you there, he’s honestly confused again- (poor bby, always getting confused- ;;w;;). When you explain to him that you just don’t feel special during your birthday, Xiao would get worried and upset-

The first thing he does is hug you. Like this is the only thing he knows about comforting someone- its not like he encountered humans that needs comforting- ;w;

“I.. don’t really know what it feels like to not feel special on your day of birth but.. you’re special to me. Isn’t that enough?”

Like broooo, he looks like a sad puppy- he’s honestly lost on what to do. You might as well need to comfort him too 😅. He would try to shower you with affections before dragging you to the picnic he set up.

He would be so relieved if you like or love the picnic he set up. As much as its embarrassing for him, he would allow you to feed him and, if you let him, feed you in return. He will continue to press some kisses on your face, head and hands. Because, like, u really deserve it- 🥺🥺

He would bring you to the highest mountain just near Wangshu Inn and enjoy the view, and possibly go stargazing with you. I can see him knowing how to make a flower crown for some reason :pp so he’ll make a flower crown out of Qingxin flowers and place it on your head-

“Happy day of birth, my love. Even as more days of birth come, I promise to make you special. Even though it’s not the grandest, I hope that my efforts and love will be enough.”

[x] Main Page || [x] Mondstadt Page || [x] Liyue Page || [x] Fatui Harbingers Page

[vngelis]

You're going to play now - Shigaraki Tomura

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x fem!Reader

Summary: Quirkless!AU. Your boyfriend will give you the attention you want but don't you dare lose his progress in his game.

Content warnings: NSFW. Minors DNI. Fingering. Edging. Praise kink. Pet used as a pet name. OOC Shiggy.

A/N: I wanted this to be slight praise kink but no lo logré lol, sorry for the extremely ooc Shiggy that I created. Also my brain stopped working and forgot how English works so the writing is probably trash.

WC: 2.1k+

Masterlist

You look up from your phone and see the same you’ve been seeing for the past three hours; Your boyfriend sitting in front of the screen of his computer playing that stupid war game. You sigh. You were absolutely bored.

“I’m bored.” You say, with the hope that he will give you attention now.

“Yeah.” Was his only answer. You sigh again.

You let your phone fall in his bed, where you were laying and push yourself up, stretching your back and arms and letting out a satisfied moan, Shigaraki didn’t hear or he just didn’t care, the later was most likely. You started walking in his room, observing the few things he had. A couple of action figures in his shelves, one poster so old that it looked like a blank paper, some clothes in the floor and a mirror. You paused in front of the mirror and looked at yourself. Today you had put a little more effort in your appearance, with the hope that that guy who was ignoring you paid you a little attention.

You brushed your hair with your fingers and huffed, letting your arms fall at your sides.

You looked at him and walked the four steps it took you to stand behind his chair and made eye contact with the back of his head for five second before taking a hold of his hair and pulling it so his head was inclined against the head rest. He locked eyes with you with an annoyed expression on his face.

The both of you opened your mouth to say something but were interrupted by some shooting sounds and a change of colors in the computer screen.

A banner that said “you were killed” appeared in the middle of the screen.

“I was going for a flawless victory, pet.” He said with such a monotonous voice that it made you shudder a little.

“Sorry.” You said. He rolled his eyes and tried to look at the screen again to continue his game, but you pulled at his hair again. He groaned annoyed.

“What?” He asked harshly.

“I’m bored.” You repeated your sentence from minutes ago. He rolled his eyes and sighed, after looking at you for like ten seconds he sighed one more time before pulling his chair back. You smiled, thinking he was going to stand up and finally spend time with you, but he just took your hand that was still on his hair and pulled you until you were standing in front of him but facing the screen. All this while muttering something along the lines of “So fucking annoying.”

“What ar-“ You were interrupted as his hands on your waist pushed you down into his lap.

“Grab this.” He handed you the joystick and started pointing at some buttons. “This one is to aim, this one to shoot. This one right here is to move and this one is to recharge.”

“What do you m–” You tried to say again, but your boyfriend interrupted you once more.

“You’re going to play.” He said, with a firm voice.

“Oh...okay?” You pressed the button to resume the game and slowly and insecurely started moving where you thought you had to.

“You’re going the other way.”

“Shit, sorry”. You chuckled nervously and started to move the other way.

“You better not lose.” He said lowly as his thumbs stroked your waist. “Or I'll be really pissed.” You gulped.

As soon as he finished speaking someone started shooting your way. You clumsily aimed where you thought the shots were coming from, when you spotted an opponent you pressed the bottom without thinking.

Headshot.

“Oh my god, look!” You squealed happily. His hands in your waist gave a short squeezed before descending to your hips, where they squeezed again. He leaned his head against your shoulder to have a better view.

“Good girl.” He praised softly in your ear, making your face heat up. “You better not lose.” He repeated as his hands went even lower, reaching your thighs and going under your skirt.

“Sh–Shiggy.” You muttered nervously, looking down at his hands. He pinched your thigh lightly, just enough to keep you looking up.

“Eyes on the screen.” He said firmly, returning his hand under your skirt. ''You wanted my attention, now you have it. Don’t lose.”

You looked up and continue to roam the area, searching for other opponents. Hard task with his hands slowly approaching your panties tho.

Not long after, you noticed someone looking away from you. You aimed and shot, this time it took you two shots, but you managed to kill them anyway.

“You’re really good at this.” He murmured, kissing your temple at the same time his fingers grazed the edge of your panties. “Maybe I should had let you play sooner.”

“Maybe you should had.” You murmured back. He scoffed pinching your inner thigh again, making you squeal.

“Don’t get cocky.” You let out a little giggle at the same time you killed someone who started to shot your way. This time his fingers grazed softly over your clothed clit. You shuddered and Tomura laughed softly. “Keep playing.” He murmured in your neck before giving a small kiss.

His fingers started to rub against you more firmly now. You let out a choked moan as your legs tried to close but he avoided that putting each one of your legs over one of his, keeping them spread. You tried to kill another one, but you missed and they managed to escape. Tomura let out a discontent groan and his fingers left you and rested on your thighs again. “N-no. Don’t stop.”

“Keep playing then.” Was his only response.

You started searching for more opponents slightly desperate so he could be happy and return his touch, but you couldn’t find anyone. “Where the fuck is everyone?” You muttered lowly. He lightly chuckled behind you.

“Look in the small map in the bottom left, the red dots.” He guided you. You looked at the map and started running to where the nearest dot was. Aim and shot. Another kill.

“Yeah, that’s more like it.” He praised as he moves your hair from the side of your neck so he can start leaving open mouth kisses there. One of his hands went up your shirt and started stroking your navel as he continues kissing your neck, the other one rest over your clothed clit again, without enough pressure to get you off but enough so you know his hand is there.

You killed one more and you started to get more confident in the game, starting to get the hang of it, and without the touch of your boyfriend you could starts to get focused. But without your cute sounds and reactions, he was the one that started to feel neglected.

His hands went to your underthighs and roughly pulled them even more separated, your eyes waver between the screen and what his hands were doing, but some shootings made you keep your focus on the game. You started to shoot back but failed. At least the other person failed too and you manage to escape. When another group of people came near your position your boyfriend pulled your panties to the side and made direct contact with your slit.

“Fuck, you’re already so wet.” He whispered as he dragged his fingers up to your clit.

“Shit, I can’t concentrate like this.” You cried out and blindly shoot around you, surprisingly killing two of them.

“Too bad. Try.” He used your slick to push one finger inside of you and you let your head fall against his shoulder. “Hey, hey, eyes on the screen, you are doing good, don’t stop now.” The hand that was on your navel went up to your jaw, positioning your head straight.

“You say it like it’s easy.” You said in between moans.

“You were the one crying for my attention, now deal with it.” He finished his sentence with a pinch in your clit and a squeeze at the bottom of your neck, making you moan.

He moved his fingers down your slit again and this time pushed two digits inside of you, he groaned as you squeezed around them. “So tight.” He muttered against your neck again.

His fingers started to drag against your walls just like he knew you like it and your eyes fell shut for a couple of seconds, enough seconds for the other players to find you and kill you. Your eyes opened immediately when Tomura stopped the movement of his fingers inside of you.

“You can only die three times per mission before it makes you start from the damn beginning. Don’t you dare lose all my fucking progress.” He says with a low and threatening voice. “You only have one life left.”

“Yes, sorr-Ah!” You’re interrupted with the touch of his other hand’s fingers in your clit. “No! Tomura! Too much! I’m going to lose” You squeaked as one of your hands left the joystick to grab at his wrist,

“Both hands on the controller.” He warned without slowing his movements. You loosened your grip and bring your hand up again while your legs began to shake.

Both of his hands started to move in that complex synchrony that you never manage to do on your own and your moans got louder. Your hips were bucking down into his, your grinding making your boyfriend moan underneath you. “Fuck, don’t- Look, look at the screen. Focus.”

Even though he could easily get lost in just your movements on top of him, his hands never falter, and you began to feel your climax approaching.

“Shiggy, I- I can’t.” You whined trying to keep all your focus away from his fingers inside you.

“Yes, you can, look how far you managed to get. You’re doing. So. Good.” Every word is emphasized with a deep trust of his fingers, aimed at that one spot inside of you that makes you cry in pleasure. “You’ve been doing so good, I know you can manage a couple of minutes more.”

“Yeah.” You cried. “I can.” With that you killed one more person in the game, winning a kiss in the temple from your boyfriend.

“Good girl.” He whispered in your ear, and that caused you to clench around his fingers, making him groan. That sound brought you even closer to your orgasm.

“Fuck, don’t say shit like that.” You whined, making him laugh softly. “I want to cum.”

“Not yet.” You whined once more. “Come on, keep being my good girl and kill one more.”

You half conscious started to search for more players so you can make Tomura happy. You killed one more, and you won one more kiss on your temple, at the same tame his movement sped up, your moans and whines getting louder.

“I’m gonna cum.”

“Look, there’s 30 seconds left, just hold it. You’re always so good for me, I know you can.” His words were not helping you, nor did the fact that his movements sped up even more. “Just don’t die, okay? There’s still 15 seconds.”

“I-I can’t.”

Once the chronometer in the screen got to 10, your boyfriend started to count with it. You were trying so hard not to cum before you were allowed, but his fingers just felt so good.

“Three, two, one. That’s it, you can cum now, pet. It wasn’t that hard, was it?” He murmured in your ear. His word fell in deaf ears as you felt like you fainted once you let it go. You were letting out moan after moan. Your legs were shaking over Tomura’s and your hips couldn’t stop grinding against your boyfriend’s hands. He couldn’t help to slightly buck his hips up into your ass.

“Fuck.” You sighed once you started to get your senses back.

Shigaraki took his fingers out of you slowly and you hissed because of the sensitivity. He started to stroke your still shaking thighs with his still slightly wet fingers. “Did you like the game?”

“I mean- Yeah?” You said unsure, you just killed people after all, didn’t know shit about the game itself. “I did’t catch anything of the story, that if it even has one.” You glared at him accusingly.

He ignored you and tapped you legs, signalizing for you to stand up. You complied and smiled at him when he also stands up. It instantly disappears when he makes you sit again, this time alone.

“What happened?”

“Read what is says in the screen. There’s still four missions lefts.” He starts kneeling in front of you. “Now maybe you’ll understand a little more about the game.” Shigaraki smirks as he pulls your legs over his shoulders. “Remember, don’t lose my progress.”

[eternally-writing]

tour troubles | jjk

genre: fluff, angst

rating: G (no swearing or sexual content)

pairing: Jungkook x reader

theme: idol!au, boyfriend!au, one-shot

word count: 1.8k

warnings: none

Synopsis: When surprising your boyfriend Jungkook on tour doesn’t quite go as you planned, it’s up to you now to help cheer him up.

banner by me!

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

After a grueling 6 months apart,  you were more than happy to be in MetLife Stadium watching your boyfriend live out his dreams on stage. The Map of the Soul Tour was no joke; Jungkook was practicing all day and performing all night, and combined with your final exam season passing by it left little time for you to talk to each other.

Finally wrapping up the school year, you got in touch with Jimin to see if he could help you plan a surprise visit for Jungkook on one of their final tour stops.

All of the members had become like family to you, but it's no secret that aside from Jungkook you are closest with Jimin. He was like the older brother you never had, and you always ran to him whenever you needed relationship advice or a good hug.

As you watched Jungkook on stage you noticed his smile falter sometimes as he would be slightly out of position or dance off beat. You could only pick this out because you had spent hours in the practice room dancing with Jungkook. 

You and Jungkook had come together because of your shared love for dance. He had first asked you out inside a very sweaty-scented Big Hit practice room, almost half of your dates ended with some form of dancing, and whenever one of you was frustrated you could always find the other teary-eyed, lying on the marley floor of a dance studio. You had always been there to whisper words of encouragement in his ear when he was feeling down, and you wished nothing more than for her voice to reach the stage at the moment.

Soon enough, the concert came to an end and you were flashing her pass to the backstage security guard to get to see the boys. Despite your  uneasy feeling watching the concert, you couldn't ease the butterflies in your stomach at seeing your boyfriend for the first time in months.

Ever since you had planned this, you spent your nights imagining exactly how Jungkook would react: whether he would hug and kiss you first, stay frozen on the spot in shock, or start crying right away. 

As you stepped into the Big Hit dressing room, you were instantly greeted with several smiling faces. 

I didn't take you long to do a head count and realize that there were only 6  boys standing in front of you, and that your boyfriend was nowhere to be found. 

Making eye contact with Jimin, you saw the softness in his eyes as he motioned for you to come closer so he could explain. 

“He’s not feeling well Y/N, and none of us can get him to talk about it. We’re so worried. I swear I’ve only gotten like 2 words out of him tonight, and I even tried to make a nutella sandwich for him to cheer him up. I’m sorry this isn’t what you had planned, but can you talk to him please? For us?” 

You took a deep breath before pulling back the curtain divider in the dressing room. Your nerves catching up to you, you considered just turning around and telling the boys you would surprise him at their next concert instead. 

You had dealt with Jungkook being troubled and frustrated more times than you could count, but you were worried you had lost her touch after being apart from him for months. 

Your mind also flew the other way. How many times has he felt like this after a concert and never told you? When he said "It was fun I'm just really tired now" after every concert was he truly feeling like this? 

With that, you pushed forward because you knew that you had to be there to support Jungkook today, even if you couldn't be there for all the other times. 

The sight that greeted you behind the curtain was not a pretty one. 

Jungkook was staring blankly at the monitor in front of him, dark fringes of his hair matted against his sweaty forehead, tour hoodie zipped up completely with the hood on, and worst of all, his eyes were clearly puffy and swollen, with tinges of red coming through from underneath his makeup. 

Jungkook barely even glanced your way as you sat down an ample distance away from Jungkook on the couch. It was clear from his lack of surprise at your appearance that one of the boys (probably Jimin) had probably told him about your surprise visit earlier in an effort to cheer him up after the concert, but even that could not get him out of this slump.

 Of all the scenarios you came up with for how Jungkook would react to your surprise, somehow this one never crossed your mind. 

You turned your focus to where Jungkook was staring - a TV monitor replaying video footage from tonight's concert. You watched as his eyebrows stayed furrowed as he glared disapprovingly at himself for making even the smallest of mistakes in the video, almost wincing as the TV monitor continued to play the footage.

"Do you want me to help point out things in the video?"

Jungkook didn’t even move a muscle.

You took the silence as a yes, and pulled a pen and the closest thing you could find to paper, a napkin, out of your purse to write on. 

Working as a dance teacher had taught you more than a couple tricks about how to give constructive feedback, and you were a firm believer in the "give 2 compliments and then 1 thing to work on" approach. However, you knew the issue with Jungkook wasn't that he was truly bad at dancing, but rather that he was way too hard on himself for the smallest details that the audience wouldn't even notice - so she threw in a few more compliments than usual. Unsure of how Jungkook would react to seeing the list, you still threw some of those very nit-picky details on there, knowing that if he was still frustrated he would throw the list out all together if he thought you were just coddling him. 

And so you both sat together in front of that grainy TV monitor, in complete silence aside from the sound of your pen scratching against the napkin.

June 10, 2020 MOTS:7 Tour Feedback Report for Jeon Jungkook ( by Y/N)

- match angle of arm placement in Black Swan Opening Choreo

- footwork on DNA ending choreo could be cleaned up 

- the ARMY at the corner of the screen during Euphoria had the biggest smile when you looked at her. I think she’s gonna remember that moment for the rest of her life. 

-  I like the way you wink at the camera during So What! Gave me butterflies babe. 

- could add more energy into the last Fake love chorus ( hot bod btw!!)

And the list kept going on and on as you diligently focused on the screen and writing notes, taking occasional glances at your silent boyfriend.

Upon glancing over your shoulder and seeing your list, Jungkook smiled at your thoughtful and sweet comments. 

All of sudden, a wave of consciousness and realization washed over him. 

He finally has the girl he loves in front of him again after months apart, and instead of cherishing his limited time with you he was spending it watching himself dance, which is what he had already spent the last 9 years of his life doing. Most of all, you never let your smile falter once in front of him, even though he knew you may be upset with his response to your surprise, and you went along with whatever he wanted to do - even if that meant watching a very very low-quality video of his performances on a loop. 

Grabbing the napkin gently out of her hands and placing it on the table, Jungkook cupped your face and looked gently into your eyes. 

"Thank you",  he said softly, as if not wanting to startle you with his sudden character change.

In your head there was absolutely no need for Jungkook to be thanking her for anything she was doing.  She knew dating an idol would have its challenges, and she made a promise to Jungkook that she would be by his side through it all, even if that included rewatching Euphoria on loop. 

It was now your turn to sigh. 

“There’s nothing to thank me for babe, it’s just me. I wanna be here for you when you’re like this - I didn’t just date you so I could be there to celebrate your Billboard #1s and daesang sweeps, I’m here for these moments too.”

Jungkook further eliminated the space between you both by wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. In that moment he realized that maybe all he needed was you. That all these hurdles he had been facing alone would have been much easier if he had just let you in on his problems.

“I just feel bad Y/N, I haven’t even seen you for months and the first time I see you I’m like this? I’m sorry.”

The gears started turning in your head. Batting your eyes overdramatically at your boyfriend, you smiled. 

“Okay how about we make a deal then babe?”

Jungkook looked at you curiously and let you carry on. 

“From now on, every time you feel like this you come to me okay? We can figure this out together, but I can’t help you if you don’t let me in,” you expressed, grabbing his hands in yours.

“Also, if you felt like making it up to me you could buy me some ice cream? It’s not the same when I eat it without you,” you joked.

Jungkook’s melodic laugh vibrated through the room. 

“Just ice cream? You’re selling yourself short babe. I’d buy the whole world for you, my love.”

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡-- 

As you emerged from behind the curtained section of the dressing room, hand in hand with a smiley Jungkook ( a stark comparison from how he was a mere hour early), you were greeted with Jimin jumping up and cheering loudly upon seeing the maknae.

Unable to contain his excitement, Jimin ran towards the two of you, chiming “you did it Y/N!! You brought back our maknae!”  

“Good to see you smiling, Jungkookie,”  beamed Jimin as he stepped forward to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. 

Jungkook chuckled and looked up at his hyungs. 

“I think I owe you all some ice cream. Ready to go? It’ll be treat.”

If his hyungs weren’t already excited to see Jungkook feeling like himself, now they were ecstatic. And you definitely felt the same way as well. ♡

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡-- 

If you liked this, please interact/follow! Thank you for reading ♡

- Emily

[jamesbuchananxsteviegrant]

She Who Shan't Be Named - Part 1 | Sugar Lips (Tony x Reader, Clint x Reader, ??? x Reader)

Category: Smut (Mandatory) Age: 18+ Trigger Warnings: Explicit language, oral sex (male receiving), suggestive language, alcohol, drunk sexual actions, casual sexual actions, flirting with a lot of people Ship: Tony x Reader, Clint x Reader, ??? x Reader Summary: Tony lets his life-long friend crash at the Avengers HQ while she has nowhere else to go. What could go wrong with so many attractive individuals living in the same home? Word Count: 1.7k Masterlist: LINK

(hmu if you want adding to the tag-list for this series)

---

“I, unfortunately, have someone I want to introduce you all to.” Tony begins as he’s gathered everyone in the living quarters.

“Unfortunately? Well, that always sounds like a good start, Stark.” Natasha jokes, sitting alongside Bucky and Sam on one of the couches.

Tony rolls his eyes and shrugs.

“Yeah, well,” He trails off. “This is (Y/N) (L/N).” He gestures, pointing to the woman leaning against a pillar in the back corner of the room.

She makes an effort to stand upright and walk further into the room.

“Well, hello. It’s nice to finally meet you all in person.”

To say everyone in the room falls speechless with their eyes wide and jaws dropped is an understatement.

“Oh my God, you lot are insatiable.” Tony groans, rolling his eyes once more.

(Y/N) can only smirk and wink at just about everyone in the room.

“You’re welcome, Starky Boy.”

“Put a sock in it, sugar-lips.”

“Sugar-lips?” Rhodey quizzes, amusement dripping from his voice.

Tony and (Y/N) can only stare at one another and grin as they remember where that nickname came from.

*** flashback ***

“One more for the road?” Tony suggests to the very, very drunk (Y/N) beside him.

It’s three-thirty-AM, they’re both at their favourite bar in Manhattan, enjoying a belated birthday weekend of (Y/N)’s which he regretfully missed due to Avenger work.

“You know how to tempt me, Starky-boy.” She teases with a wink, waving her hand up to catch the attention of the bartender, Harrison, who they’ve grown acquainted with over the years of drinking at his bar.

Tony falls into a comfortable silence as he simply stares at the woman he’s been friends with since he was a teen at Phillips Academy.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” The woman’s sarcastic comment pushes him over the edge. Within a second, his hands are grabbing her head and pulling her in for a harsh, desperate, passion-fueled kiss.

Harrison smirks as he sits their drinks down, watching how the pair have had ridiculous amounts of sexual tension coursing through them since they first started coming to the bar over ten years ago.

“What, the fuck?” (Y/N) manages to breathe between kisses.

“Stop talking.” Tony murmurs in response, only intensifying the kiss more and more.

“Tony,” She attempts but makes no effort to stop the man. No. Absolutely not.

She’s gotten herself off to the thought of this man too many times for her to want to stop.

Her hands are grasping at the black shirt that adorns his torso, his own hands moving down to grab her hips, itching to have her closer and closer.

“Jesus Christ.” The woman gasps as best she can. “Anthony!”

The man pulls back at the use of his full name but doesn’t let go of her hips.

“Tell me you haven’t wanted to do that?” He asks, voice deep. Low. Husky.

“Of course I wanted to fucking do it, you imbecile!”

His hand jumps up to grasp at her throat, a gasp escaping her lips.

“Watch your mouth.”

“Guys, you’re gonna make my customers leave; the back lounge is empty.” Harrison interrupts. Tony continues to make no effort to stop his actions. They’re both too drunk to care.

Not that he’d care anymore so when he’s sober.

The billionaire practically drags the woman off of their barstools, (Y/N) frantically grabbing their drinks, spilling half of them on the floor - to which she gives Harrison an apologetic look but he simply rolls his eyes with a grin.

A small shriek escapes the woman’s lips as Tony throws her into the room, her hands managing to sit the, now half-empty, drinks on the coffee table.

“On your knees.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” She grins, obeying the man’s order whilst quickly throwing her hair into a messy ponytail.

“Always knew you were a slut.” The man growls, unbuckling his belt and zipper on his smart trousers.

“You know me best, Starky Boy.”

She wastes no time in taking the man’s solid cock into her mouth, moaning at the feeling and taste, Tony groaning in satisfaction.

“Look how desperate you are for it.” He condescends yet continues to thrust into her mouth, fucking the back of her throat.

No words can be formed to give the man a reply. She’s too busy focusing on taking his impressive shaft down her throat, making sure her lips are touching his pelvis.

“Christ!”

He can’t help himself. His hands are in her hair, grabbing it and yanking her closer to his body, not thinking about anything other than the noise of her gagging.

“FUCK! You filthy fucking slut.”

She moans at that, working his cock more and more.

It’s not too long later before the man is releasing all over the woman’s face, her sticking her tongue out and taking as much of it as she can.

“This was a brand new blouse, Stark.” She complains, jokingly, as she licks her white lips. “Ugh, salty.”

“Don’t lie, you know it’s sweeter than sugar.” Tony laughs, re-doing his trousers.

“It definitely fucking isn’t.” (Y/N) groans, standing up and licking the rest of the mess off of her mouth.

“Whatever you say, sugar-lips.”

“TONY!”

*** flashback end ***

“A nickname I gave her once upon a time.” Tony vaguely explains, (Y/N) chuckling.

“Okay. So why’s she here?” Bucky asks, not taking his eyes off the most attractive woman he’s ever seen in his life.

“She has a name.” (Y/N) comments, quirking a flirtatious brow at the man.

The super soldier raises his brows but smirks.

“Why’re you here, doll?”

Now, that does something to her core.

“Starky Boy told me that y’all need a babysitter, so here I am!” She boasts, evidently joking but it makes everyone grin and not ask anymore questions.

“I’ve known her since I was in my teens, she’s a family friend.” Tony adds, reassuring everyone that she’s not someone to be cautious of.

“Pft, family friend? Don’t compliment yourself, Stark.” (Y/N) jokes, everyone laughing with her. “Anyway, in all seriousness, hello, I’m (Y/N). I’m temporarily chilling here if you’re all alright with it since I got nowhere else to be.”

“A pleasure, (Y/N). Steve Rogers.” Captain America begins, stepping forward and shaking the woman’s hand.

“Pleasure’s all mine, Captain.” She winks, the man smirking at her antics which will be refreshing around the compound.

“Bucky.” The Winter Soldier greets, nodding his head at the woman from his seat on the couch.

“Romanoff.” Black Widow follows, (Y/N) biting her lip at the red-head. “Natasha Romanoff.”

“Alright, James Bond.” Sam jokes, everyone laughing.

“Tony, I can’t believe this is the first time you’ve given me the opportunity to meet the Natasha Romanoff.” (Y/N) beams, winking at the woman who returns the gesture with a smug smile.

“Christ.” Tony groans, face-palming harder than ever.

“Sam Wilson.” The man smirks, reaching out to shake the woman’s hand from his position on the couch.

“Bird Boy.”

He gives a hearty laugh at that.

“Sure.”

“James Rhodes, but call me Rhodey.”

“So you’re the Transformer’s identical twin, right?” The woman quizzes, rhetorically, shaking the man’s hand.

Another round of laughter.

“Something like that.”

“Bruce. Bruce Banner.”

“The guy I don’t wanna piss off; got it.” (Y/N) smiles, watching the brunet give her an anxious smile and chuckle. “Or maybe I do.” She adds with a wink, basking in the entertainment that comes from his embarrassed expression.

“(Y/N).” Tony groans, semi-threateningly.

“Yes, Anthony?” She asks, smiling at him like an innocent child who’s never done wrong.

“Good day to you, beautiful mortal. I am Thor of Asgard.”

“Wowee…” The woman widens her eyes as the God leans down to kiss her cheeks. “The one and only.”

“That would be I.” He smiles, throwing her a wink also. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Stop hogging the limelight already.” A voice complains from beside the God of Thunder.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the God of Mischief.”

“Well, well, well, a beautiful lady such as yourself knows who I am, huh?” Loki greets, taking her hand and leans down to press a kiss to her knuckles, Tony continuing to grunt and groan in the background.

“Hard not to when you get off on destroying New York.” (Y/N) grins, a chorus of laughter filling the room yet again.

“Stop hogging the limelight.” A female voice mimics Loki's previous words.

“Well if it isn’t the Scarlet Witch!”

“That is I.” Wanda grins. “Wanda.” She adds, holding her hand out for (Y/N) to shake, which she accepts graciously.

“Tony, do you know how pissed I am that you’ve not introduced me to these people until now?”

“Oh my God, I’m literally going to kick you out.” The billionaire responds, pouring himself a whisky from the bar at the back of the living quarters.

“Yeah, yeah.” (Y/N) retorts, winking at Wanda before turning to the couch beside her which a certain Archer is leisurely laid across. “Barton.”

“(L/N).”

“Long time no see.”

“Ya think?” Clint quirks a brow, jokingly.

“How’s Laura? How’re the kids?”

“Not bad, not bad. How’s Michael?”

“Dead if I had any say in the matter.” The woman casually threatens as the brunet mentions her ex-boyfriend.

He breathes out a laugh.

“Commitment issues as good as ever then?”

“You know me, Robin.” She jokes, using the nickname she gave me when he came on a night out with Tony and her many moons ago.

“You two know each other?” Wanda questions.

They both shrug.

“Somewhat.” Clint answers, (Y/N) giving him a playful slap on the shoulder.

“You love me!”

He grins and sits up before standing.

“You know I do, come ‘ere.” The man chuckles, pulling the woman in for a tight embrace.

“Missed you, Robin.”

“You too, Marian.” He responds, using the fairytale nicknames from Robin Hood.

“Those two have definitely banged.” Sam snarks from across the room, Natasha agreeing.

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Wilson.” Clint teases, flashing a wink his way.

“Now, now, boys.” The woman settles, turning to the young gentleman on the other couch, staring at her with some much awe in his eyes. “Who’s the kid?” She asks, staring at him directly yet directing her question at Tony.

“Uh, hi, I’m Peter. Peter Parker.” He stumbles, standing upright and holding out his hand for her to shake.

She giggles.

“Corruptible.”

“(L/N)!” Tony yells, the woman only laughing as she shakes the young man’s hand.

“A pleasure, spider-boy.”

Peter’s eyes widen at her knowing.

“Right, are we done? That was exhausting.” Tony complains for the nth time.

“Oh, grow a pair, Stark.” (Y/N) retorts.

“I will literally kick you out of this building.”

“You ain’t got the nerve.”

Downing a swig of his whisky, Tony takes a deep breath but smiles at the woman.

“It’ll be nice to have you around, sugar-lips.”

“I bet.” She winks, everyone chuckling again.

And that’s just the beginning of her relationships with everyone at the Avengers HQ.

---

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[little-mad]

Downsides of Thievery Pt. 10

~ Previous Part ~ Next Part ~

What was going on around Gavin was essentially up to his imagination due to the fact that Rael wouldn’t move his damn hands. While he wasn’t really eager to encounter any more alteons, Gavin was beginning to feel claustrophobic with parts of Rael’s body surrounding him on all sides.

After the interaction with the guard at the entrance, Gavin heard Rael exchange a few more brief greetings as he made his way through the palace. It was bizarre, being so near to other people but being unnoticed or otherwise unacknowledged.

Gavin found it kind of odd that no one had even commented on the weird way Rael’s hands were situated. Surely at least some of them had noticed, right? So why didn’t they mention it? Maybe minding one’s own business was a big staple of alteon culture or something…

The din of voices, rummaging around, and clanging dishes that had been present ever since entering the building began to fade. Only once everything had fallen silent did Rael speak up. “I’m going to remove my hand now,” he stated.

Before Gavin could get the chance to try to prepare himself, he suddenly found himself bombarded with light. “Ah, god,” he complained as he blinked away the spots in his eyes.

Once his vision had recovered from the initial assault, Gavin carefully opened his eyes all the way. The sight he was met with took his breath away. Sure it may have just been a hallway, but it was the most stunning hallway he had ever been in!

The walls were made of smooth gray stone that rose up into arches in the ceiling. Banners of a rich blue color, decorated with a complex emblem hung from the walls on either side. Floor candelabras that looked to be made out of some kind of dark metal stood every few feet along the sides of the hallway--it was impressive how well candles managed to light the area.

The centerpiece of the room was the tall door that Rael stood directly in front of. The thing was made of dark wood that had been carved with intricate designs. It looked as though it would weigh a ton, even to someone Rael’s size.

Gavin had been in a lot of fancy places in his day--it had usually been while he was breaking and entering, but that was besides the point. The point was, none of those places matched the grandiose nature this literal castle possessed. “Think of all the riches I could find here…” Gavin’s thief brain was kicking in and he very nearly smacked himself as a result. “Yeah, like I haven’t gotten in enough trouble for stealing from alteons,” the more rational section of his mind countered.

“Hey, are you listening?” Gavin was abruptly jerked out of his own mental argument by the sound of Rael’s voice, which he only now realized had been going off in the background for the past few seconds.

“Uh--sorry, what did you say?” Gavin asked sheepishly as he leaned back to look up at the alteon’s face.

Rael blew out an impatient sigh. “I said, this door leads to the central part of the palace,” he summarized. “I also said that I’m going to keep you uncovered from now on.”

Gavin wasn’t really sure whether to be pleased or upset by this news. On one hand, he was eager to not be stuck in the oppressive dark. However, on the other hand, being out in the open meant getting ogled at by giants. Plus there was the risk of someone snatching him again… “No one's gonna try and grab me, are they?” He voiced his concern.

Rael’s expression softened so slightly Gavin barely even managed to detect it. “No, the palace is the most secure location in the world, you’ll be fine,” the dark haired giant assured him.

Satisfied with the response, Gavin gave a nod. He relaxed just a bit. Despite the many ups and downs they’d had together, Gavin trusted Rael’s judgement as well as his ability to protect him. Though the giant had managed to handle the Kaydin situation with words rather than violence, Gavin didn’t doubt that the guy would kick ass in a fight--if the definition in the guy’s biceps were anything to go by anyways.

-

To be honest, Rael would have preferred to keep Gavin hidden until the moment he delivered him to the Emperor. However, he knew that while the servants he’d passed by already had known better than to intrude upon a soldier’s business, most of the people in the central part of the palace would have no qualms in doing so. If he were to walk in, clearly hiding something, he would no doubt get stopped at least several times. At least with Gavin on display, everyone would instantly know the situation. Of course that may not prevent them from interfering, but Rael could only hope for minimal interaction.

After a quick glance downwards to ensure his passenger was secure, Rael pulled open the large door that separated the servant’s section from the rest of the palace.

The decor and architecture in this area, while similar to that of the previous section, was far grander and more extravagant. Rael didn’t even have to look to know Gavin was stunned by the sight. He took a small bit of pride in knowing the human was impressed by alteon craftsmanship.

The room they were in was the front entryway, it was where most visitors would first enter the palace. A handful of guards dotted the room, and of course, as soon as they all spotted Gavin, their eyes were glued to the little man.

Rael could feel Gavin fidgeting nervously in his hand, and honestly, the feeling was somewhat mutual. While Rael wasn’t the focus of anyone’s stares, he was still getting far more attention than he would prefer. Imagining what they could all be thinking about him made Rael feel sick to his stomach.

“Just...try to ignore them,” he advised himself as he began to walk further into the entryway. Avoiding making eye contact with anyone, he made his way towards the grand staircase that was the focal point of the room.

After ascending the steps, Rael was met with the enormous doors that would lead into the throne room. Rather than going through them, he made a right down the hallway that would take him to the Emperor’s office. The throne room was only used for official, large scale events. The Emperor was far more likely to be working in his office at this hour.

Unfortunately, there was no shortage of people milling around, and while so far everyone had refrained from approaching Rael, that streak was about to come to an end. “Ah, so this must be the human who attempted to rob Lady Elyth,” remarked a woman he recognized as being one of the Emperor’s scribes.

The scribe stood in front of Rael, effectively blocking his path. He sighed internally. Despite having no actual title, the Emperor’s scribes were well respected around the palace, and as close servants of the Emperor, soldiers like Rael were expected to defer to them. This meant he would be forced to humor this woman.

“Yes, I’m on my way to bring him to the Emperor now,” Rael stated, hoping the scribe would want to avoid getting in the way of Imperial orders.

Rael had to fight the urge to look down when he felt Gavin inching backwards on his palm. The little guy seemed to be trying to put some distance between himself at the unfamiliar alteon that was currently staring at him.

The woman gave a nod of understanding but still didn’t move. “This one certainly appears younger than the other ones I’ve seen,” she commented as she leaned in for a closer look.

Rather than jerking backwards as he reflexively wanted to, Rael remained still. He glanced down to see that Gavin had retreated all the way towards his chest. It was evident he was trying to keep a calm expression on his face, but it was easy to tell the man was highly uncomfortable. “Just hang in there,” Rael thought, wishing he could mentally send the message to the human.

Finally, after several long moments of ogling, the scribe pulled back and straightened up. “The Emperor is currently meeting with one of his advisors in his office, so you’ll have to wait until he’s finished” she informed him. “Anyways, enjoy the rest of your day, soldier.”

“And you as well, miss,” Rael replied. He waited until the woman had walked past him and out of sight before he started forward once again.

Gavin let out a deep sigh of relief, but otherwise kept quiet, which was for the best considering there were still guards about. Rael didn’t fail to notice that the human hadn’t moved away from his body. Even through his clothes, Rael could feel the slight movements that brushed against his chest. Were he not a man of fortitude, he may have reacted to the ticklish sensation.

After turning a corner, Rael made it to the more secluded area of the palace that housed the Emperor’s personal office. He was surprised to find the small sitting area outside the office completely vacant. Typically, there was at least one guard stationed outside the door so long as the Emperor was inside.

Rael furrowed his brows. Had the scribe not confirmed that the Emperor was indeed in his office, he might have suspected the ruler was elsewhere. But, since Rael couldn’t risk potentially barging in on a private meeting, he wouldn’t be able to check to be certain. “We’re going to have to wait,” he told Gavin in a low voice.

“Okay, yeah..good,” the human replied, not bothering to hide his relief at getting to postpone his impending judgement.

Being sure to keep Gavin steady, Rael took a seat on the stone bench across from the door to the Emperor’s office. It was only once he was seated that he realized how cramped the hand that was holding Gavin was. For quite awhile now he’d been making a concentrated effort to keep the appendage still so as to not accidentally exacerbate the human’s injuries.

“I’m going to set you down beside me, alright?” Rael waited for Gavin’s nod of confirmation before carefully relocating him onto the bench. Once the human was safely settled on his own two feet, Rael gratefully shook out his aching hand.

“Nothing like a giant castle to make a guy feel small,” Gavin remarked with a nervous chuckle as he sat down.

Rael glanced down at the human thoughtfully. Sometimes he forgot that in Gavin’s eyes, humans weren’t unusually tiny and weak creatures. To him, humans were normal sized--therefore he perceived alteons as giants. It was strange for Rael to imagine, because he couldn’t help but see Gavin as anything but tiny. “It’s quite large even to us alteons, if that’s any consolation,” he said honestly. “Anyone unfamiliar with the layout is bound to get lost.”

It had taken a good few weeks after beginning work at the palace for Rael to get a hang of navigating the expansive property. The winding hallways and innumerable doors made the place a virtual maze. He could only imagine how daunting it must be for someone of Gavin’s size. It would be effortless for the little guy to get hopelessly lost.

Just then, Rael’s attention was drawn to the office door, which had begun opening. The person who exited was familiar--he was a fellow member of the Imperial Guard. Rael quickly realized that he must have been the one who was meant to be on duty outside the office, though that didn’t explain what he’d been doing inside the room.

“Rael, there you are,” Ashryn greeted as he swiftly shut the door behind him before Rael could even get a glimpse inside the office. “I was wondering when you would arrive.”

Ashryn was tall and well muscled. His skin was a touch lighter than Rael’s and his braided hair was of a chestnut brown color. Judging by his broad shoulders and sharp jawline, the guy would undoubtedly make for an intimidating adversary.

“The Emperor just asked me for some insight on a few matters,” Ashryn explained, gesturing back towards the office. Rael suppressed a look of confusion. He had never really heard of a guard of Ashryn’s rank being asked for input from the Emperor himself. “But enough about that,” Ashryn declared, interrupting Rael’s contemplation. “I’m eager to meet this human criminal.” In an instant his gaze was upon Gavin. A sly smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and there was a glint in those pale green eyes of his that Rael didn’t like in the slightest.

[kyoonqs]

iluso amor ; first part.

↬ summary: Cora has always considered herself elusive, easy to bore and adventurous to the last fiber of her body. One day for no apparent reason, she appears in front of the manager of a globetrotting circus passing through the city where she is temporarily staying to fill her life with magic. Baekhyun, as serious as he is handsome, has no intention of playing a role other than on the main canvas of the circus. He decides to separate Cora from her life of fantasies created by her travels and sets out to show her reality as raw and cruel as he knows it. Or so he believes.

Will time run out too quickly before love and passion devour him and he decides to risk everything for a love that lasts… Forever?

↬ pairing: baekhyun x cora fem!reader.

↬ circus!au ; illusionist!baek x hitchhiker!oc ; strangers to lovers au!

↬ genre: fluff ; romance ; angst ; drama.

↬ length: 2.8 k words.

↬ tag list: @changshapatrol @spacebyuns @fluffyhunnie @soos-goddess @hoho-cham @shadoukiti @sunbyun21​ @mangobaek​ @suhotly​ @pororodks​ @bbhbae​ 

If you’d like to be tagged for future chapters, please let me know! 

↬ masterlist.

↬ author’s note: this is my first time writing a series, hope you enjoy it and any feedback will be appreciated. thanks for reading! ♡

Vanilla, caramel and butter scents invaded her nostrils the moment she stepped on the re-centering and she reminded herself that from now on she should get used to the smell due to her timely madness. Beyond her view, occasionally blocked by some old trucks, a red and yellowish-white circus tent loomed along with several smaller tents and a host of caravans. The largest tent, dotted with gold stars, had a large, deep blue sign bearing the name of the circus and its owner. In addition to a few tethered horses, Cora saw a number of huge cages with animals and all kinds of unsavory people, including some pretty dirty men, most of them encrusted with mud and rust.

She was beginning to regret the moment when she had ripped the worn out brochure from the lamppost and the idea of joining the circus scene rose out of boredom. Yes, that was the case, curiosity had killed the cat and she could not contain herself that late afternoon when she had driven her bicycle past the front of the tents and the multicolored costumes of the artists had simultaneously caught her eye. But now it was not like that, the moment she advanced towards the train car where she was to present herself for the position, everyone stopped what they were doing and fixed their eyes on her. Without thinking too much, she stepped forward steadily as her sneakers sank into the sandy ground and she staggering as she stared at the ticket booth where the same brochure she was carrying was presented.

Away from the scrutinizing stares that once haunted her, she took the steps of the carriage two at a time and froze when she saw him inside. He had hair as dark as molten chocolate and chiseled features that would make his face look too beautiful if it weren't for the firm jaw and menacing frown. Men who possessed that brutal appeal had always attracted her but at that moment she would have chosen someone less intimidating to interview her. She tried to calm herself by reminding herself that she would not have to spend more than a couple of hours with him and that it would all be over as soon as she explained clearly why she was applying for the job, which she was still completely unaware of.

She cleared her throat and began with her introduction, first name, last name, place of birth, previous jobs and reason why she was there - from the latter she omitted boredom as a possible factor. The man in question did not give her a single glance and, of course, did not speak a word. She stared straight ahead, the unyielding lines of that hard profile making her skin tingle.

–“I, I want to learn about the trade...” She swallowed.

–“I'm really interested in the job, whatever it is...” She swallowed again.

–“Bastard.”

Until the man in front of her turned his head and looked at her, she didn't realize what she had said. He arched a dark brow with mild curiosity, as if he wasn't sure he had heard correctly. Her impulsiveness took control and she felt her lips tremble, for it was clear that they didn't share her problems in restraining her inappropriate thoughts.

The metal legs of the chair where he was sitting screeched against the hard floor of the wagon. He stood up, ironed the wrinkles of his pants with his hands and looking into her eyes for the first time, he said in a stern and inflexible voice:

–“You are hired. Meet me after the last show behind the main tent.” And without further ado, he passed her by without giving any other explanation.

She could barely suppress a sigh. She directed a furtive glance at the boy, still nameless and wondered what she had gotten into but an irrelevant part of her was dying for new adventures and without a doubt, he would be the greatest from that precise moment.

–“Ladies and gentlemen, the show is about to begin! Come closer everyone!”

The man who made the announcement was the same man who was encouraging people to buy tickets the day the circus had arrived in town, although now he was wearing a red master of ceremonies jacket. At that moment Cora appeared before the young man in the carriage, leading a black horse by the reins with one hand. It was then that she realized that he was not only the manager of the circus but also one of its performers.

He was dressed in a velvet jacket, a velvet vest with nothing underneath and black trousers tucked into high leather boots that snuggled over his calves. A jewel-encrusted band of all colors surrounded his torso accompanied by fine iridescent chains and some ribbons of razo that fell from his pocket. He also carried a rolled whip hanging from one shoulder. Curious about the skills he would display in the arena –she had gotten one of the dancers to tell her when they would leave and to her surprise it would be the next morning– she followed the man with his eyes. At that moment he saw her. The decision she had made had been too recent to seek a way out and she still did not feel comfortable talking to him. Cora tucked her hair nervously behind her ear and refuse to take her gaze from the horse following him when he began to walk towards her.

–“There are unsavory people hanging around the circus. Until you know how everything goes, stay where the rest of the audience is, always” he told her as he adjusted some rings on his slender fingers.

–“Understood.” She responded, since she had just promised herself that she was going to put forth her best effort and not get carried away by first impressions that day. 

 –“Come in and take a look at the show.” His tone was firm, despite the fact that she was already heading back to where she was previously. 

 –“Wait! What is your name!?” She asked hastily, not realizing that perhaps she had sounded somewhat desperate.

He glanced at her over his shoulder with the corner of his mouth slightly curved. “Baekhyun!” He said, chuckling, and with that he returned to his place in line with the rest of the artists.

She was still feeling hot as she circled the crowd and entered the tent through the back entrance. She found a free spot in the stands. They were weathered white-painted planks of wood, hard and narrow, with nowhere else to rest one’s feet but on the seat of the spectators in the row below. But she quickly set aside her feelins of discomfort the awkwardness when the lights dimmed, a drum roll crescendoed and a spotlight illuminated the emcee on center court.

–“Welcome to the happiest circus in Valencia, welcome to Gran Fele Circus!”

The music exploded, played by a band consisting of two musicians with drums, a synthesizer, and a consola. A lively version of New York, New York began to play and a white horse entered in the arena with a girl who carried a flag with the name of the circus. The other artists followed, carrying colorful banners, smiling and waving to the crowd.

It was the troupe of acrobats that caught Cora's attention; three handsome men and a beautiful woman –whom she identified as the dancer who had helped her earlier– named Laia, dressed in gold sequins, shiny leggings and thick makeup. They were followed by a group of horsemen, clowns, jugglers, and trained dogs.

Baekhyun entered the arena alone, riding his fierce horse, and unlike the other artists, he didn’t wave his hands or smile. As he circled the track, he seemed such a distant and mysterious being. He was no stranger to the presence of the people, but somehow he remained isolated and gave a strange dignity to the colorful display. 

As the show progressed, Cora was amazed at such talent. 

Suddenly, the lights went out and the music died away. A blue spotlight illuminated the master of ceremonies, the only one occupying the dark center court. His voice turned dramatically low and a haunting, folk melody began to play in the background.

–“How many times have we wondered if we were crazy? How many times did someone make us doubt our actions? How many times has someone come before us with the idea of changing our thinking? Sanity makes us useless, many times it is better to be crazy. Life is made for taking risks and if you don't think so, let the next person convince you otherwise...before time runs out.”

The lights began to gradually increase in intensity, the music resounded and Baekhyun entered the middle of a path that seemed illuminated by small streetlights, thin beams of light that danced around him and that were reflected in the small sequins of his suit. With indisputable ease, he untangled the whip dangling from a waistband and sliced through the air in all directions with it. Small particles, like glitter, floated in the air suspended around him. He performed a series of skillfully executed feats that were both daring and dramatic. They had brought a few accessories onto the floor during the emcee's presentation: ribbon targets, fluorescent balloons, chandeliers, and more. Circling the runway, he popped the balloons one by one, and a bright red explosion, like drops of blood, shot through the air with each snap of the whip.

The lights dimmed until only he was illuminated by the spotlight, and he grabbed a second whip and made them pop and dance in all directions with such masculine grace, Cora gasped. The dance was increasing, with faster and faster movements and, as if by magic, the two whips became one. With a powerful twist of his arm, Baekhyun lifted him above his head to set him off in flames. The audience gasped, the lights went out, and the flaming whip danced wildly through the darkness. When the lights came on again, he had vanished.

–“What are you doing here? Hasn't anyone taken you to the motorhome yet?”

Cora roused herself, her eyes snapping open. Looking up, she saw the same deep brown eyes plaguing since afternoon that day. For a moment, she couldn't remember where she was but then everything came to mind: the circus, the manager, the show, his whip.

She suddenly became aware of Baekhyun's hands on her shoulders, it was the only thing that had kept her from falling off the old stool that she had been seated on while waiting for him. She had decided to wait there since it was the most illuminated area around the tent, next to government mandated public toilets where there was still a queue to pass them.

She shifted uneasily under his hands and tried to regain her balance with the idea that he would release her.

–“Could you tell me what time it is? I've lost track of it waiting here for you.”

–“It's about 30 minutes to midnight,” Baekhyun put his hands in the pockets of his coat. Instead of the suit he donned for the show, he wore jeans ripped at the knees and a white t-shirt printed with the word ‘Supreme’ in terms of design. Despite the casual attire he didn’t look any less intimidating.

–“Look dulzura, you will have to get used to my presence, since I will be your guide and housemate from now on”. It wasn’t as if Cora hadn’t tried to do it before, in fact she had been attracted to him the moment she met him, only his personality –and now a whip– had slowed her down. He, at her lack of response, muttered something under his breath and after a sigh, spoke again.

–“Come on dulzura, I'll show you where you'll sleep for the next few months.” He turned and left at a fast pace to where the group of caravans were together, paying little attention to the fact that she had luggage that weighed a ton, the consequence of her idea to buy a memorable garment from each city she had visited until now.

–“Wait!” Her scream had an edge of hysteria, but he seemed not to hear it as he continued walking toward the line of caravans. She rubbed the sole of her sneakers across the ruff, gathering some on the toe of it as she dragged her foot. With a gasp, Cora started walking again. Baekhyun approached two vehicles that were parked next to each other. The closest one was a modern white caravan, it looked spacious inside and on its roof you could see a satellite dish. Next to it was another caravan, dented and rusty that appeared to have been silver previously. She begged to herself that it was the space caravan and not the other.

He stood in front of the ugly rusty trailer, opened the door, and disappeared inside. Cora grunted but conceded since she had stayed in worse places. Perhaps the inside wasn’t as hideous as it looked on the outside. Baekhyun reappeared at the door a moment later and watched as she approached fighting with her backpack towards him. When she finally reached the metal step, he offered her a cynical smile.

–“Home, sweet home, dulzura. Come in and settle”.

Cora had always found the Spanish language something to delight in but this was the third time the nickname had come out of his mouth directed at her and she could swear that the way the word rolled on his tongue and briefly hissed before pronouncing the syllable "zu", surely it was close to the song of the angels that received you when you entered paradise.

She sniffed and climbed the four steps that separated her and...the interior was much worse than the outside. Narrow, messy, it smelled musty and old, with a hint of  mothball. In front of her was a miniature kitchen, the countertop metal, it had spots with peeling paint. To the right of the kitchen, the faded upholstery of the small sofa was barely visible under a pile of books, newspapers, and men's clothing. In addition, she saw an old, medium-sized refrigerator, wooden cabinets, and a bed with rumpled sheets.

Baekhyun stared at her blankly, genuinely doubting whether she had noticed. 

–“It is a small caravan as you can see, but it is comfortable and cozy in the cold. It's all there is and all I have.” 

The bed took up most of the back of the caravan, nothing separated it from the rest of the "rooms", the only thing that seemed to be secluded was the bathroom –which she would make sure to explore as soon as she had the chance. On the sheets there were tangled clothes, a towel, and something she couldn't make out from where she was standing.

–“I think I'll sleep on the couch, it would be better…”

He gazed absently at the tip of his foot, then looked up. She stared into those dark eyes –which depending on the light could be paler or even more blackened– and she felt a chill run down her spine, followed by another strange sensation that she did not want to examine further. 

He slowly raised his hand, adjusting a lock of hair that had been tousled while she was struggling with her backpack, Cora froze and pursed her lips as she felt the softness of his thumb brush the hollow under her ear with something that it seemed like a caress.

–“Do whatever you want, dulzura. I have to go, I still have things to do.” 

Cora gasped when she realized she should have felt danger but her skin had taken the brush of his thumb with pleasure. She felt Baekhyun's insolent hand move away from her hair as he pulled away from her, even though he had left something light on the trailing of her ear. The trailer door swung on its hinges. Baekhyun looked at her and stepped out of it, dropping his gaze from her face to a nonexistent point. Once he was out of sight, she reached for the object that was barely tickling her cheekbone and held the geranium between her fingers with a furtive smile on her face.

↬ This is all for this chapter, I promise to try to write more in the following parts. I will try to update every Saturday. Honorable mention: Oliv (@changshapatrol​) without her this story would be nothing, thank you for your patience and trust in me. I love you, a lots ♡   

[agustdef]

VIBE

Pairing: Yoongi x Trans!Reader

Genre: Angst; Fluff; Friends to Lovers

Word Count: 12.4k

Warning: Cheating (not by the pairing); Brief Sexual Content; Mental Health; Mention of Emotional and Mental Abuse; Mention of Mental Health

Rating: NC17

Banner Marker: @guktro​

Lovely Beta Reader: @guktro​ because he’s a persistent little thing and wanted to be the first to read it.

A/N: The fic was written for @guktro​ and takes place in my I Found You and With All My Heart universe. With that being said, I must say that this portrayal of of trans man was written with Gray in mind and to fit his feelings/what he wanted. So, while I apologize if this makes you feel unrepresented I will not deal with any invalidating of Gray’s feelings towards his own identify.

YN rushed to class after sleeping through the first five alarms he set. He’d meant to get up early, but after a night spent focused on getting a side project done he’d fallen asleep early morning. He scolded himself as he sprinted into the classroom, but at the same time he couldn’t help but be pleased with himself. His burst of late-night inspiration meant that he’d completed the graphic work he’d been tasked with, a thing that kicked his ass for weeks before that night. And it also meant that he had extra money deposited in his bank account by the time he woke up that morning.

A win.

Well, a partial win because the look his professor gave when he just barely had his butt in a seat as class started lessened some of the joy.

There was no time to linger on any of that though because the moment the professor started talking it was full steam ahead. They’d entered another section of the course, which brought them all closer to designing a website completely from scratch. That meant the coding, art, font, almost everything had to be crafted by them.

It was something that excited YN, but also made him extremely nervous seeing as the end product would be the deciding factor of their final grade. Plus, it was going to be done in pairs and despite having attended school their all undergrad, he wasn't buddy buddy with anyone in his classes or his major for that matter. All his friends were in different majors or different schools. Which meant it would be a random person and goodness knows the odds of that person being a team player were low.

However, he tried to keep positive or at least his friends tried to keep him positive. It didn’t help, so he’d just decided to act like it wasn’t a thing until it was. Something that worked until halfway through the class when he heard his professor mention how he’d out of the partners right that moment.

Panic was not a strong enough word for what YN felt as his head snapped up to look from his laptop screen to the front of the class. His eyes scanned the projection on the wall and he held his breath as he did, hoping that whoever the hell it was wasn’t a total shit show. When he found his own name, part of him wished that he’d had a total shitshow instead of who he got though.

After reading the name he turned his head to look towards the back of the room and his eyes met Min Yoongi’s. Yoongi smiled at YN and tipped his head, something YN did in return so not to be perceived as unhappy before turning around again.

But YN was unhappy. Well, not unhappy because he thought bad of Yoongi or anything, but because the man made him nervous as hell. He’d been in most of YN’s graphic design classes since he’d arrived in Korea and a distraction since day one. YN thought that he was ridiculously cute and then as time went by the attraction grew as he watched him go from pale, flawless skin to his arms covered in tattoos. Something about seeing all the art on him heightened things for YN and made him more of a flustered mess around him. All without having never spoken to him before.

Not that YN hadn’t tried. With bullying from his friend’s, but that day as he’d approached “to ask about the homework” Yoongi was joined by a Black woman that YN had seen around him a few times. They’d smiled at each other, linked arms, and walked away from campus as YN reached the halfway point. It left him a tad heartbroken to see that he hadn’t managed to even say hi and that Yoongi may have had a girlfriend.

From that day on YN continued his thirsting from a distance and leaving it at that.

The project pairing meant that he wouldn’t be able to do that anymore and he was unsure of how that would play out, but for the rest of the class time he told himself he could get through it. The reminder that he had a grade to worry about was enough to give some faux confidence.

That wore off as soon as Yoongi approached him as they were dismissed.

“I rented one of the computer rooms for something else, but would you mind heading there with me right now? We don’t have to get any real work done, but it could get the whole expectations part out of the way,” Yoongi said.

Startled, YN only found it in himself to nod and then off they went. Yoongi led the way out the building and to one several feet away that was filled with private rooms for students to rent for course work. They checked in and went into one of the computer rooms on the lower floor.

Yoongi didn’t say anything at first, just unpacked his stuff and booted up the computer. And that left YN awkwardly sitting in a chair next to him, his bag clutched against his chest as he waited. He didn’t know what to do next and that was more about the awkward first group mate meeting then it did any attraction that he felt.

Once Yoongi was done with all his prep he sat in the other chair and turned to YN. He must have sensed the tension because he smiled wide, one of those gum showing ones that YN had seen once or twice when he was talking to his friends. It had a strange calming effect.

“You already know, I’m Min Yoongi,” he said, his hand held out.

YN was a deer in headlights for a second, but soon enough reached out to grasp the hand.

“I’m YN LN.”

“Nice to meet you, YN. We have other classes together, right?”

“Yes, we do.”

Conversation fizzled for a second after that and the awkward tension returned, but Yoongi didn’t allow them to sit in it for too long.

“Okay. I know I said we wouldn’t do any actual work today, but do you have any ideas for what we should make the site for?”

The next beat of silence was because YN needed a second to think, before remembering that he’d made a list in the beginning of the semester, so he’d have it. Without saying a word he unlocked his phone and searched through the notes app to find it. Once it was on the screen he handed the phone over to Yoongi.

There was a look of confusion on his face before he glanced down at the screen and saw what was there. He looked over it for a moment before handing it back.

“We have some of the same ideas. I thought about using this as an excuse to build something for my shop and portfolio, but we don’t have to do that. Don’t want to make it seem like I’m trying to get unpaid work out of you.”

That piqued YN’s interest.

“For your shop?” he asked.

Yoongi nodded. “Yes, I work at a tattoo shop.”

“Ah. Then we could do that. Doing it for a real thing always makes it easier to get the work done. And at least here payment would be a grade and something to add to my resume as a real in use website. But I’d also take a tattoo as payment,” YN said jokingly.

At first Yoongi appeared taken aback, but then his smile returned.

“Anything you want.”

A shift happened in YN and he relaxed a lot more, even putting his bag on the floor.

“Cool, you have any specifics you want to try for?”

And from there they just talked, bouncing ideas off each other and cracking the occasional joke. It was an easy flow they had going and by the time they thought to save some things for a later date in mind an hour had passed.

YN cringed when he saw the clock. “Sorry, for eating into your room time.”

Yoongi waved him off.

“It’s fine. It means I can’t procrastinate and will get something done before my sister comes to meet me for a late lunch. She’ll kill me if I don’t get it done,” he said.

Thought of his own sister made YN frown, but he pushed away the thoughts and gathered his stuff to leave. He turned and smiled at Yoongi, then waved as he backed from the room.

“Text me your schedule and we can figure out when to meet again,” YN said.

Yoongi nodded and they both turned away from each other, but just as YN pushed the door open Yoongi called out to him. Confused, he turned back to see Yoongi’s brows furrow as if in that.

“What’s up?” YN asked.

“You go by he/him, right?”

Discomfort built in an instant as YN was unsure of the reaction that would come with his answer, but he nodded his head and Yoongi smiled again.

“Okay, just making sure so I don’t use the wrong thing.”

With that they said their goodbyes again and YN left, but he left with a happy feeling inside him. He’d moved past the need for outside validation of his gender, but it was always nice to feel someone being considerate. Especially when that person was someone he’d never told before and had to have heard it through the grapevine. He knew how easy it was to misgender him because his appearance screamed feminine and he had no impending plans nor made an effort to make his transition physically apparent.

It was just nice for it to not have someone make a big deal out of it.

So, he walked away from that first meeting beyond happy with the way things went and confident about the project. Which was how he felt after every meeting after that and even on the day that they presented their project.

Everything had gone so well and he only had one regret: Not getting a chance to know Yoongi much outside of their assignment. But the semester was over and YN was so busy with school, work, and life that he barely even had the time for his friends.

And the next thing he knew he was on a plane on the way back home to the US.

 ### 

The moment YN stepped into his apartment he wished he hadn’t. He’d closed the door gently as not to rouse his boyfriend who worked the night shift, but when he turned to face the living room he saw that the man was already awake. In fact, he was awake and he had company.

On the couch sat Sam and between his legs was some “friend” of his with his dick halfway down her throat. The sight didn’t startle YN and he barely had the energy to be upset about it. Especially when both of them realized he was there and could only look like a deer in headlights. Well, Sam was pretending to care that he’d been caught, but YN saw the way he fought the little smirk that wanted to form on his lips.

“Oh, my goodness,” the girl said.

That was what made YN focus solely on her and he remembered her from a few group hang outs. She was a sweet girl who was newer to the group and Sam liked to hang around her lot, though she always seemed to put distance between them when he got too close. It seemed like she’d given up on doing that.

“I didn’t know you lived here,” she said.

“So, if I didn’t it was okay to give oral to my boyfriend?” YN asked, his voice empty.

She shook her head profusely and rose to her feet, fixing her clothes as she did.

“No. My goodness no. Sam… he, well he said you guys broke up. I wouldn’t… I’m not the type to…”

Her scrambling to find an excuse should’ve given YN some sort of relief or reassurance that she wasn’t a horrible person, but he felt nothing. He merely held up his hand to get her to stop and walked back out of the door without another word to either of them.

He’d planned to get in a quick lunch nap, thus coming home when he did, but that was out of the window. So, YN walked around aimlessly until he stumbled upon a cafe. Once inside, he ordered something and found an empty booth away from everyone.

The first few minutes were sat in silence with him merely staring at the other bench seat blankly. He didn’t speak or move until the barista brought over his drink and sandwich. A brief thank you and then he began to nibble on the food, hoping it was enough to focus his mind on something else, but it wasn’t.

All he could think about was the disaster that was his life.

When YN returned to the US he saw it as temporary and as a means to help out his family. His mother struggled a little and he wanted to help, plus he’d missed them since he hadn’t had the chance to go home during his undergrad. Things were fine for a while, but then they all just became so mean and uncaring about his feelings. His mother tried, but sometimes she was just the worst. And his little sister was rude and acted like she hated him or at least that’s what it felt like. Every second of the day it was her trying to undermine and trash talk YN, get the others on her side. And while YN’s brother wasn’t like the other two, he wasn’t the most helpful in saying anything when they ganged up on him.

It was horrible for his already not that great mental state and at some point he was pushed too far. The only option for his own health and safety was to leave, but he poured so much into them it was hard. After talking to a friend back in Korea they got him a plan to go back and he saved as much as he could for the ticket. And the moment he had enough his bags were packed and he was on a plane there.

From there he stayed with friend’s, though as they all progressed in life and started dating seriously or getting engaged it became harder for him to do. Thankfully, he had started dating and as he prepared to find someone else to move with Sam offered for them to stay together. YN had been unsure, there was a gut feeling he didn’t listen to, but living with a boyfriend prematurely was better than being homeless.

So, he moved in, but things dissolved quickly. Sam was trash. His manipulative nature became more obvious and though YN could see it, he was really into him. Certain things were let go or blatantly ignored and that gave him incentive to get worse. YN had found him cheating twice and he’d let Sam talk him into staying both times, but things were still bad. Especially as he became disillusioned and realized he had to stay until he could find a place he could afford to live.

Seoul was expensive and even on his great salary he couldn’t afford it. So, he endured it. Dealt with Sam’s bullshit and tried to remind his heart that Sam wasn’t good for them, despite how they still acted as if they were a happy couple.

Life refused to give him a break and with everything crashing down he’d flirted with returning to the US, but that was no better than staying with Sam. And he didn’t want to be there, he wanted to be in Seoul. But that didn’t stop the thoughts as he sat there and ate his subpar sandwich at the cafe he hated.

All he had to do was have a few friends go to get his stuff with him, stay with them for maybe a day and take the next plane back home. It was that easy, though nothing about it felt easy. Especially as he reminded himself he didn’t want to go back. He didn’t want his joy ruined by someone else.

Which meant that before he spiraled in a public place he needed to pull it together and check apartments again. He’d done it on the train ride back to his apartment and found nothing, but things changed.

After several deep breaths he pulled out his phone and scrolled through all the possible apps for housing. Unsurprisingly nothing that he’d rent alone was in his price range that he could do, which frustrated him and almost made him put his phone down but he pushed forward. He’d accepted a long time ago that he would need a roommate, so he narrowed his searches for those kinds and found a few, but they were mostly creepy or still too much.

That’s when he was really ready to give up, but then the app he was on glitched and refreshed the page. Annoying because he had to scroll all the way down again, but also a heaven send. As he re-scrolled he stumbled upon a listing that was below what he was willing to pay and in a great neighborhood close to his place of work.

YN had never moved so fast to look through the pictures and see what other information the person had to say. The room that would be his was spacious, had great windows, and a wonderful view. Plus, the rules laid out weren’t overbearing.

A simple scroll to the bio of the owner, Sidney, had him even happier because he saw a picture of a Black woman with a kind smile. She explained she was a resident at a prestigious hospital and her last roommate moved out, so she needed someone else to help pay the bills. And there was a direct line about not minding gender at all as long as you were a decent person.

For once life appeared to be on YN’s side, so he scrambled to message Sidney through the app giving the required info about himself and making it clear that he could come to meet her as soon as she was available.

He hoped for a response before he got off work, but what he didn’t expect was one ten minutes later as he left the cafe. She told him it was an off day so he could come after five. YN responded quickly that he got off work at fifteen minutes after five and could be there by five thirty. Sidney replied with a confirmation and YN went back to work with a pep in his step and some hope.

However, that hope turned to nerves as he made his way to the apartment. He even debated not going in once he reached the building but persisted and made his way up with the mantra “you got this” playing in his head. It was effective enough that by the time he knocked he believed it.

The door opened a few seconds after his first knock and he was greeted by the woman who’d he’d seen in the picture. She smiled at him.

“You must be YN,” she said.

YN nodded. “Yes, and you’re Sidney.”

“That I am. Please do come in.”

Sidney motioned YN inside and he paused to kick off his shoes before following her further into the apartment. It was so much nicer in person and he felt himself get excited at the thought of living there but had to remind himself that it was possible he wouldn’t. He had to get along with her after all and just because she seemed nice didn’t mean that she would just let him stay or actually was nice.

“I can show you around and then we can sit and talk or the other way around, whatever you’d prefer. Also, a random man may appear at some point, he does not live here but insists on invading my home anyway,” Sidney said, her voice grew louder as she said the last part.

“Oh, shut it,” a voice shouted out in the distance.

YN was confused at first, but also amused by whatever dynamic Sidney had with the mystery man who was supposedly an unwelcomed guest.

“Tour first is fine,” YN said.

“Tour it is then. You can put down your bag and we can start in the kitchen,” she said.

Without looking YN sat his bag on the couch and followed closely behind Sidney. She walked him through the space, pointing what was where and what was what. Every room got a somewhat detailed explanation, even the empty room that could be his. It was weird how in-depth Sidney was for showing someone who hadn’t been given the go ahead to live there yet. But YN assumed it was just how she was or some way to ensure that the person knew a lot before making a choice themselves.

Five minutes later they finished and walked back out to the living room where there was suddenly someone on the couch. YN assumed it was the person Sidney had been calling out before and shrugged it off.

“Okay, now we’ll sit down and talk for a bit. Get to know each other,” Sidney said as she plopped down onto an armchair.

“And if you aren’t some creep I get to ask you questions too,” the man said.

Something about the voice was familiar, but YN didn’t know just how familiar until he finally walked around the couch and could see the man’s tattoos and then his face. His breath caught in his throat and his eyes grew wide as he stared at him.

Yoongi’s reaction was practically the same, going from an intimidating glare to a fish out of water.

“YN?” he asked.

“Uh, you two know each other?” a confused Sidney asked.

All YN could do was nod as he thought about what kind of craziness was his life.

“Um, yeah. We went to college together. Had a lot of the same class and he even helped me build the shop's website,” Yoongi said.

That’s all it took for Sidney to join and create a trio of shocked expressions.

“He’s that YN?”

For some reason that snapped YN out of his momentary glitching as he wondered what she meant by that, but by the glare Yoongi leveled her with he was sure he’d never figure that out. Though Sidney appeared unphased by his clear displeasure and simply shrugged. Which was met with a roll of the eyes before Yoongi focused on YN again.

“I thought you went back home,” Yoongi said.

YN took a moment to clear his throat before nodding. “Yeah, I did. But the plan was always to come back and I did that two years ago.”

“Oh, that’s good. Glad you got to come back,” Yoongi said, a wide smile on his lips.

As he’d learned years back Yoongi’s smile could make anything feel okay and all the nerves and confusion YN felt before he smiled were pushed to the wayside.

“Well I’ve made my decision. You can move in,” Sidney said, disrupting the moment.

Both of them nearly broke their necks turning to look at her, eyes nearly popping out of their heads.

“W-what?” YN asked.

“You have a job and the ability to pay rent, right?”

“Yes. I’m a section leader at LE International. I can even show pay stubs if you’d like.”

“Then that’s that. Yoongi clearly isn’t opposed to you and that’s good enough for me. You can move in whenever.”

“Even right now?”

“If you want, but is that all you have to move in with?” Sidney asked, tone cautious.

Unsure of what to say YN simply shook his head, but when neither of them said anything or pushed he felt the need to give an explanation. Plus, he was let in without any issue and so he felt a sense of comfort with them.

“I do have more stuff, but it’s at my old apartment and going there isn’t a good idea. At least not right now,” he said.

At that Sidney and Yoongi shared a look for a second before Sidney turned to YN and smiled at her though it was a tad unsettling, much different from the ones she’d directed YN’s way before.

“When do they leave the apartment?” she asked.

Startled, YN looked at her for a long time before answering.

“Um, he’s off tonight but works again in two todays,” YN said.

Sidney nodded before turning Yoongi. “Call Kookie, Namjoon, and hell even Jin. Those wide ass shoulders of his are intimidating all on their own. Tell them to meet us here in fifteen.”

Yoongi didn’t say a word, just threw a reassuring look YN’s way before leaving the room to make the calls.

All of it happened so quickly that YN took a second longer to process it all.

“Oh no, you don’t have to ge-”

A shake of Sidney’s head shut him up.

“Two days is much too long to be without your stuff and even if it wasn’t it may not all be there if he sees you aren’t coming back. I know I’m overstepping a bit and I can call this all off, but you deserve to be in an environment away from whatever it is you’re trying to escape and that means without fear of never getting your stuff back. So, we can proceed and even go alone if it makes you more comfortable or stop it here.”

A warmness filled YN and he felt his shoulders shake a little as tears he didn’t know he held back fell. People he barely knew were being nicer to him than of those he’d known for years or his whole life. And they were prepared to go up against her ex for him without a single question asked. It was like a weight lifted off his shoulders.

“Please help,” he managed to mutter.

Sidney nodded and carefully moved closer to YN, asking before she touched him and then easing him into it before pulling him into a tight hug. Something YN didn’t know that he needed until it happened.

Once they got him calm and their friends arrived they headed out to YN’s ex’s place. He was nervous the whole way, but the entire thing was a bit of a blur. They got there, their friend’s Jungkook and Namjoon appearing behind YN was enough to keep Sam at bay and the others packed up his stuff. There were a few words from Sam, but any time he shifted the wrong way Jungkook took a step forward and he shut up. It was a weird switch from the sweet-faced tattooed kid she’d met at Sidney’s and the one ready to kick his ex’s ass if he breathed wrong.

Everything was moved out and Sam had his key back within about thirty minutes. And they were back at the apartment soon after that. They all helped YN unpack his stuff and get comfortable in his room, even ordering his favorite food for dinner.

By eleven that night he was curled up in his new room, in his new apartment, and for the first time in a while he felt like things clicked.

### 

Comfort wasn’t something YN easily found, but it settled in after the first two weeks of living with Sidney. Though she was very busy most of the time with work and school life, she went out of her way to make sure YN was okay and taking proper care of himself. And all her friends were just the same.

After week one of being there he’d met the rest of the friend group, which consisted of Taehyung and Jimin, who he knew from work. They’d been nothing but kind and didn’t push him to tell his life story. All they requested was that he tell them when they crossed a line or truly didn’t want to participate in something; and they’d backed off quickly the one time it happened.

From there it had been so easy to mesh with them, come out of his comfort zone, and just live his life without worries of his ex or where he’d live next. Months passed so quickly and he hadn’t endured a panic attack at all.

It was a nice change of pace and put a bit of a pep in his step.

After a night of watching movies and a morning of breakfast made by Sidney who came off a twelve-hour shift and who apparently craved a mountain of homemade blueberry pancakes. YN didn’t complain because for one it was food he didn’t have to make and for two he hadn’t had pancakes in over a year. So, consuming all that crossed his plate was a must. Though as he traveled to work regret in the form of drowsiness settled in quite a bit.

All that left the moment he stepped in front of the work. Though he’d been working there a while it made him quite anxious to go in every day. He loved his job and wouldn’t trade it for the world, but sometimes that feeling was enough to make him want to try and freelance or something so he could avoid offices and a team of people.

But that wasn’t why his demeanor changed when he arrived. Oh no, it was the two men who stood off to the side of the main doors that did that. Or more so one of the men that was there.

Jimin and Yoongi stood in front of the building with smiles on their faces as they talked together about something that appeared beyond hilarious from the outside looking in. They were laughing and wrapped up in their own worlds as they spoke. Not noticing YN’s gawking nor the many others who eyed them up intensely. Though to be fair YN was sure Jimin was used to it from how much it happened daily. However, with Yoongi there and wearing a short sleeve shirt with his tattoos on full display the attention increased tenfold. Which was always the norm when he came in to work with the company on something.

At some point YN found himself drifting from the momentary drooling over how hot Yoongi was to enjoying the expressions of those who saw them. Something he got so wrapped up in that he didn’t notice Jimin calling his name and waving him over for about fifteen seconds.

Once he snapped out of it, he walked over, head ducked as he avoided the prying eyes of those who noticed where he was headed.

“Hey, we’ve been waiting for you. Thought you normally came in earlier?” Jimin asked after they parted from a hug.

YN nodded. “I do, but I woke up to Sidney cooking breakfast. There was so much of it. She wouldn’t stop filling my plate.”

Yoongi laughed at that, the first sound he’d heard after he’d walked over. It had YN staring him down out of curiosity, but that washed away once he pulled him into a side hug. The affection was brief, but still quite nice.

“Blueberry pancakes?” Yoongi asked.

That guess would’ve left YN from months before surprising, but he’d learned that Yoongi and Sidney knew each other creepy well. Like there was being close to someone and then there was this telepathic like connection where Sidney could see the way Yoongi’s nose twitched and was fast enough to get him a tissue before he sneezed and vice versa.

Though he didn’t think about it often YN was quite jealous of their sibling-like dynamic when compared to the one he had with his own siblings.

“Yeah, she said something about needing them before she lost it,” YN said.

Before Yoongi could respond to that both of them were ushered inside of the building with Jimin muttering about needing to get into the conference room on time. They went without struggle because an angry Jimin wasn’t something anyone wanted and being late wasn’t on the agenda for that morning.

Once the three of them were inside of the elevator Yoongi spoke up.

“She does that when she’s coming off multiple twelve hour shifts sometimes. She’ll either pass out or stress cook blueberry pancakes. I think with the school part of her life finally letting up she has enough energy to make the pancakes now.”

With that new information YN made a mental note to learn to make the pancakes so sometimes she could come home and eat them then pass out. He knew she was a stress cooker and baker, but surely the craving for pancakes existed even when she was dead on her feet. So, the chance for her to get the satisfaction of both was something he liked for her. She worked so hard nonstop and deserved nice things.

While YN plotted on how to get her to teach him the recipe they reached their floor and headed out, going straight to the conference they were to meet that morning. When they walked in they were the last ones, but others were clearly still settling in which meant that their entrance wasn’t the focus. They moved quickly to get into their seats and a few minutes later the meeting began.

“As you know we’re taking on work for an upcoming idol group. Usually that would mean very little from us because they have an in-house team of some sort, but this project is out of their depth. They’re looking for some top-notch work with the concept they’re going for. And because they want things to be cohesive you will be working closely to give ideas and creative direction. This is very involved,” Section Leader Kim said.

Everyone muttered words of understanding before she continued.

“Some of you have hands-on experience with prop type things, so you will be in charge of helping conceptualize that and bring it to life. While three of you will be dealing with a lot of their social media and branding stuff. You will be creating from scratch for them to ensure they appear as unique as possible.”

There were more murmurs and then she directed her gaze towards YN, Jimin, and Yoongi.

“You three will be in charge of all things social media and branding. You will craft from top to bottom. I know YN has experience in it and Yoongi has done it a few times before when he freelances for us, many of those times will partnered with Jimin. So, I’m counting on all of you to do this. Understood?”

“Yes,” they all said.

“Good. There is a meeting set with the company’s creative director, the group, and their manager for an hour from now. Go prepare with your best portfolio examples and take the van that’ll be waiting downstairs in twenty minutes.”

In an instant they were on their feet and out of the room. A mix of fear and excitement drove them to go to their desks and grab any printed things they might need as well as chargers for their tablets just in case. Well, Jimin and YN did, Yoongi simply plopped down into a random chair and started going through his own tablet. When YN walked past he saw him copying certain stuff into one file marked with the project name.

Within fifteen minutes they were ready and in the van that drove them to wherever the meeting was.

YN felt the anxious energy that filled the vehicle but tried to keep his own in check. His focus was on his own tablet organizing some things, so they were easy to find when he tried to show them. However, he did that so quickly that he needed something else to preoccupy his mind, so he opened up his coloring app and used the pen to color in the picture of a sunset. The calming effect wasn’t the same as if it had been paper and crayons, but it helped a great deal. So much so that by the time they reached the company building he felt like he was entering a lunch date with work colleagues and not walking into the lion’s den to do his job well enough to please the entertainment company and his boss.

That didn’t mean that he felt confident enough to take the lead though. Yoongi was the one to do that with YN and Jimin following close behind him. They both got so nervous in new, high pressure environments that it was good to have someone else take charge sometimes.

And with Yoongi at the helm things moved smoothly. They got inside, were brought into a conference room, provided drinks, and NDAs for them to sign. No one tried to be difficult nor did anyone side eye them as often happened, though there were lingering eyes on Yoongi’s tattoos. Would’ve been some on Jimin’s too if he hadn’t worn a long sleeve.

Their wait for others only lasted for about five minutes before they were standing and greeting the group of seven. They all introduced themselves and as the introductions took place YN was shocked to learn that the group was the four, heavily tattooed men. He was very here for it, but surprised nonetheless.

Surprises didn’t stop there though. The moment butts hit seats the creative director dove into what they were looking to do. All of it came at them fast and YN barely had time to process the gist of what the hell was going on. It was about halfway that Jimin asked them to slow down a little and they obliged, explaining things in a less excited manner. Once he finished each of the members took a turn explaining what they hoped things to look like.

From there they were all allowed to share their past work and some ideas. They’d received vague information from work so they’d kind of gotten some understanding of what was wanted, but nothing they had truly fit. That wasn’t a problem though, there was some interest in some of the stuff and it was only the first meeting.

Yoongi had finished explaining something to the manager who’d wondered if they could create some sort of glitch vibe to incorporate when one of the members, Hyun, pulled his attention.

“I apologize if I offend you or it’s too personal, but who gave you that tattoo?” he asked.

Yoongi paused before following Hyun’s gaze to the large tattoo on his forearm that was about as intricate as the others, but glitched out and splashed with colors. It was one of YN’s favorites.

“Oh, Jimin did,” Yoongi said while pointing towards the man in question.

That led to them all looking wide eyed at as bashful Jimin buckled a bit under their gazes. There was some nervous energy wafting off him and YN wasn’t sure if it was because they all appeared amazed or because despite major changes to who could tattoo in Korea they were displeased to see it so openly admitted.

YN knew it was the former, well it mostly seemed like the former.

“You do tattoos?” Moon, another member, asked.

Jimin nodded and then cleared his throat before speaking.

“It’s something I do on the side because I like it. I usually work at Yoongi’s shop. He’s a bit of a reverse of me, works full time doing that and freelances doing this.”

Again, they looked beyond shook at the revelation and that was when things truly got rolling as they brainstormed ideas. They took a few pictures of Yoongi’s tattoo and then built off the concept of it. Though YN was not a tattoo artist, nor did he have any, it was easy to keep up since he was around them so often and found them interesting.

Time flew with their newfound excitement and suddenly four hours had passed. Since the group had other things to do they left first and after finalizing some things with them the creative director also took his leave. He said he wouldn’t need anything from them for the rest of the day, but to spend time coming up with things that fit for what they were trying to do for their meeting a few days later.

So, they left on a high note. The issue was that they were so excited and eager about everything they found themselves at Yoongi’s working on things immediately. They’d all taken up space and began working on designs that they could implement for it. They were only going for rough sketches or bare bones ideas to be decided on next meeting, but it was all consuming.

Seokjin had come through with food and forced them to sleep, but they worked so hard to get everything done. And if it weren’t for their excitement to bounce ideas off each other they would have gone all that time with no social activity at all. Not that isolated while submerging yourself in work so much you only had two people to talk to was a good thing.

Thankfully, they emerged from that behavior before Sidney had to make good to come over and kick all their asses. They’d finished everything in time for their next meeting and when that one went well they truly felt like hot shit.

However, they needed to rough draft a website. Something that Jimin knew how to do but not like them, which worked out since he had a few appointments to do and it didn’t hinder progress. Though it did leave Yoongi and YN alone, something that they hadn’t been since their college project. Which meant awkwardness to start before they got into a groove and found the right flow.

It reminded YN of how much he’d loved working with Yoongi back in college, as well as stirred up some feelings he hadn’t thought about. Not enough to say that he truly fell for the man, but enough that he wished he could ask him to accompany him on a non-work-related outing just the two of them.

Luck was on YN’s side though, because the moment that they finished the website Yoongi turned to him and smiled. One that YN returned whole heartedly before raising his hand so that they could high-five. Yoongi rolled his eyes but did it anyway and then there was a shift.

Instead of releasing YN’s hand he held onto it and stared at him for several, long seconds before he finally said anything.

“I’m going to say something and please tell me if I’m crossing a line,” Yoongi said.

“Uh, okay.”

“I know that it hasn’t been that long since the whole crazy ex thing and us reconnecting in a way we hadn’t when we first met. But I want to take you out on a date. To be clear it’s not anything extremely serious, I’ve just been feeling something and I need to act on it before I allow myself to possibly feel anything stronger.”

YN’s eyes went wide two sentences and just stayed that way for a bit. His mind replayed the words over and over in his head, knowing that he’d heard Yoongi right the first time he said it.

“You want to go on a date with me?” he finally managed to ask.

Again, Yoongi’s smile took form as he nodded. “Yes, I do if that’s something you want to do. No pressure, I’ll be fine if you say no. I’ll even be fine if you say yes and we just don’t fully click that way. A no pressure situation.”

Despite the constant reminder of no pressure, YN felt a great deal of pressure but also none at the same time. He wanted the date to go well so he wanted to try to make it work but knowing that Yoongi was prepared to continue as they were if what they thought was there wasn’t was a relief.

Probably the chillest request for a date he’d ever gotten. Definitely from the chillest person he’d ever encountered.

“Yes, I would like to go on a date with you,” YN finally said.

Yoongi’s smile getting any wider felt impossible but it did. His expression and body language screamed happy and that only enhanced the joy that spread through YN after he’d said yes.

“Anything in mind?” YN asked.

For a moment Yoongi’s lips formed a pout as he mulled it over and then his eyes lit up as he seemingly figured it out.

“There’s this temporary restaurant and art gallery in Incheon. They have some of the work by that one artist you said you liked recently. You could meet me at the shop after my last client on Saturday and we could go. If that’s something that interests you,” he said.

All it took was the mention of seeing the artist Bri’s work for YN to be on board with the plan in an instant.

“Yes. Fuck yes,” he said.

Laughter escaped Yoongi at the response and he nodded. “Saturday it is then.”

YN went home sometime after that feeling a kind of lightness and genuine excitement that he hadn’t in a while. And he didn’t care if it only lasted a few minutes or hours, he savored it. 

### 

The entire time YN got ready for the date he’d been calm. There were no worries or internal meltdowns, no matter how much closer he got to the actual meet up time. He’d gotten up from his binge watching of Nura: Rise of the Yokai Clan and showered, then dressed without issue. Didn’t even overthink what to wear, just found something that he deemed date appropriate and casual. Though he did pause for a moment to thank the heavens that the dress code for where they were going was relaxed.

Even as he applied his make-up and waved bye to a half away asleep, still in scrubs Sidney on the couch on his way out he was fine. It was a miracle and he was so happy to not be beside himself, but naturally that all came crashing down.

As he approached the last stop on his train ride he noticed a few people gathered together laughing and talking. They’d all been there since the stop before, but YN paid them no mind as he played a game on his phone. But an extra loud laugh drew his attention and when his head lifted to glance there way he realized he knew them. It was a collection of some of his old friends, ones who’d let them stay with them for a bit and were also the reason he’d met his ex. And with them was aforementioned ex.

A discomfort built in YN’s stomach, not from seeing them but from the idea of confrontation. Despite clear attempts to block him and keep away, Sam had made it his mission to pop up someway in YN’s life for a few months before vanishing completely. And though he’d given up, YN knew him to hold a grudge and be persistent. If he saw YN there would be some attempt to talk and with people to back him avoiding him was hard. But YN told himself he could do it.

YN looked away from them and focused on his phone once more but made sure to keep alert just in case they saw him. He made sure he had everything he came onto the train with, moved his purse from his lap to crossbody, and held his phone firm with Yoongi’s number at the ready.

The moment the train came to his stop he stood and moved past them quickly, keeping his head down and his eyes averted. However, the train jolted a little harder than usual sending him stumbling into one of them a little. He did his best to offer a quick apology and then turned back to the doors willing them to open faster. And when they did he bolted out of there just as his name was being called out by Sam.

People around him were startled by the person sprinting through the station and up to the surface, but YN didn’t stop until he was across the street from the station and amongst a group of people. He paused to catch his breath and ensure he hadn’t been followed out of there and when both of those things were clear he made his way towards the tattoo shop. Thankfully, it wasn’t far from the train station.

As he walked there the adrenaline from that close call left him and made way for the nerves that had remained at bay all day. It was as if they’d been awakened by running into people he wanted to avoid, though something told him it was more likely they’d just been waiting for the right moment to strike. What better moment was when he was only a few hundred feet from the shop's entrance.

One more time that night YN found himself pausing to pull it together, words of encouragement and surety repeated in his head to get him to make the final steps. And once he got in front of the door he was calmer, though not as much as he preferred.

“You got this,” he whispered just as he pushed the door open.

Upon entering he was greeted by Jimin who sat behind the front desk and Jungkook who’d just emerged from one of the back rooms. They both wore genuine smiles, clearly happy to see YN and that was enough for the incident from several minutes ago to leave his brain. People who actually cared deserved more of his focus than anyone else.

“Hey, he just finished up and is cleaning his space. You can go back there if you want,” Jungkook said after a brief hug.

After he hugged Jimin he headed on back without a word. He’d been to their shop a few times and it wasn’t hard to find things. Yoongi’s room was the last one in the hall and when YN reached it he took a deep breath before knocking on it. There was silence and then a soft come in before he proceeded.

When YN opened the door he was met with Yoongi wiping down his chair and the strong smell of a bleach laced cleaning substance. It made his nose wrinkle and he almost backed out of the room, but he got used to the smell quickly.

“Hi,” YN said.

Though that was the natural thing to say YN beat himself up for saying it. Something in him said he could have said something cooler, but he knew damn well trying to be cool or appear chill or whatever the hell he wanted to go for was stupid. Also, Yoongi didn’t give a fuck about that anyway.

Stopping his efforts to clean off the chair, Yoongi stood tall and turned to smile at him. It was wide and though there was a trace of tired etched into his face it didn’t detract from the genuineness of it.

“Hey. I’ll be done in a few minutes. Just want to make sure things are good since I don’t come in tomorrow.”

YN nodded. “That’s fine. I’ll just stare at this wall for a while.”

Yoongi laughed at that and then went back to cleaning.

And true to his word YN proceeded to stare at the wall. But it wasn’t like it was blank, the thing was covered in some of this work. Yoongi tended to make prints of his favorite pieces or the ones that spoke best to his ability and put them framed up on walls. Which meant that the space was beautiful and YN could get lost in examining them all for hours. He’d tuned out Yoongi, Jungkook, Jin, and Sidney talking the first time he laid eyes on it because he was so swept up in it all. They’d all taken faux offense to him ignoring them, but all voiced understanding of why. Their compliments had Yoongi turning red by the end of it.

Something was different about the first time though. At first YN couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but a few seconds later he realized a piece had been moved and there was a new one in its place. While the other had been a drawing the one in its place was a chunk of text. It was in a beautiful script that one would deem impossible to do so fluidly on skin, but Yoongi had achieved that.

Once YN got past that he noticed that it appeared to be words from Puck’s final monologue in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. That made him laugh, but also got him thinking about something that he wanted that was similar. He’d wanted a tattoo when he was younger and then as he grew up and dealt with life the urge became stronger, though he had more direction than before.

While thinking he hadn’t realized how far he’d drifted until Yoongi pressed a hand to his lower back.

“See something you want?” Yoongi asked.

Instinct told him to push the idea aside and tell Yoongi it was nothing, but his mouth and brain seemed to disconnect on the matter.

“Just thinking about how I’ve wanted a tattoo for forever. And this one just makes the urge all the more real.”

There was no response at first and that made YN start to doubt sharing that, but when he turned to glance at Yoongi he saw a thoughtful expression.

“How about we do one?” Yoongi asked after a few more moments tick by.

“Now?”

“Now. I still owe you a tattoo, don’t I? Plus, we can go to the exhibit another day. Though if you don’t want to spend our first date getting takeout and getting a tattoo then we can do it later.”

For a moment YN thought about it, but then realized there wasn’t much to think about at all.

“Yes. Let’s do that.”

And that’s all that was needed to get Yoongi smiling again and guiding YN over to his desk where he sketched out the tattoos. They dove into Yoongi’s portfolio for inspiration, but nothing fully stuck no matter how much YN loved it. After who knows how long they ordered dinner from a nearby sushi restaurant and even as they ate they focused on finding the one.

It was frustrating and YN felt a bit bad about using their date like that only for them to come up with nothing. He’d planned to voice that thought, but then suddenly Yoongi cleared all the stuff and pulled out a pencil and a sketch pad. Then he turned to face YN, expression serious, something that YN had grown used to while they worked together.

“What’s your favorite color?” Yoongi asked.

“Uh… blue.”

“Mine too. Favorite cliche tattoo?”

“Song lyrics.”

Yoongi nodded along and started writing something on the paper, but he held it so YN couldn’t quite make out what it was.

“Favorite time of year?”

“Winter.”

There was more nodding and writing before Yoongi looked up once more, his eyes fixed on YN’s as he spoke.

“And without giving me some job or basic life goal, what do you want to be when you grow up?”

And surprisingly YN knew how to respond without question. “The hero of my own story.”

That got a small smile out of him and he even reached over to squeeze YN’s knee before he wrote something down and then tore the page out of the book. YN watched Yoongi sit the paper to the side and then him sketching on the blank page under it.

Not a word was uttered as he did so, the room silent and uncomfortable. Of course, confusion filled YN but after all the time spent looking and with the determined look of Yoongi’s face he let him do his thing. Which only lasted for a few minutes before Yoongi flipped the sketch pad for YN to see what it was.

YN burst into tears as he took it in.

Everything about it was perfect despite it being in slightly rough shape. The right words were there and even the more drawing oriented parts of it fit so perfectly and didn’t overtake the words. Goodness, YN couldn’t stop focusing on the words. They just slapped him in the face with how well that fit what he wanted. How well they fit him.

Gathering himself was hard, but he managed to make it clear to Yoongi that he loved it and that’s what he wanted. Yoongi wanted to comfort him, but YN waved it off and after making sure that all was fine he got to work getting it drawn on his tablet so he could print it out for stencil.

All of it happened so fast from there, they’d found a spot for it and how it would lay and YN was in the chair ready to go. Yoongi had all his stuff ready to go and the buzz of the tattoo gun brought YN back to, but something was different then.

The euphoria from finding the right thing and finally doing something he’d wanted for years was still there, but there was that voice in the back of his head poking at it. It’s what he wanted and he knew that wouldn’t change, but something just felt off. Like it wasn’t the right time for him to be getting it. Like he wasn’t ready for it.

“Wait,” he said just before Yoongi’s needle touched his skin.

Thankfully, Yoongi heard him just in time and pulled away, turning the gun off and setting it down on the table. Though there was clear confusion on his face he didn’t say anything, just waited for YN to be ready for whatever the next thing was.

His kindness and patience made YN feel guilty and a little bit stupid. He’d gotten a date with Yoongi only for them to not go on the planned one because of some whim that YN had and couldn’t go through with.

“I… I want the tattoo, but I just can’t right now. I don’t know what the fuck it is, but I just… something is telling me that right now isn’t the right time. And I hate that because I know I love it and want it, but I’d hate to have the joy of getting it clouded by whatever weird shit is happening in my head. And I hate it more because we could have been finishing a really great date doing something we both enjoy instead of spending hours doing this only for me to chicken out during the last second. It’s unfair to you. And I’m so, so, so sorry, Yoon.”

YN’s ranting would’ve gone on longer if the guilt hadn’t increased once he realized that he’d been talking for a bit and was definitely going to keep going if he wasn’t stopped.

Following his little spiral there was silence before Yoongi reached out and held both of his hands with his own. He waited until YN looked up at him and then gave him a gentle smile while his hands squeezed YN’s lightly.

“I’m the one who offered out of nowhere. I’m the one who decided to make this a consultation kinda date. I made those choices and I stand by them. We found something and you’re not ready and that’s fine. It happens to a lot of people. Sid almost got the tattoo on her side about ten times before she finally went through with it. And she was as sure as you were about this one, probably cried just as much. I’ve had clients even do that a time or two, it’s not a big deal I promise you. We ate food, we spent time together, and though it was frustrating at times I had a good time with you. I promise. Plus, I already said we could retry that date another time. So, unless you no longer want to go on another date with me, then we can still do that.”

Relief was not the right word for what YN felt after that, but he couldn’t think of another word for it. At least not until he found himself leaned forward with his lips pressed against Yoongi’s. He was unsure if he initiated the kiss, but all that mattered is that Yoongi returned the kiss without hesitation.

When he pulled away YN found the right word for what he felt.

Bliss.

###

Several dates followed the first one and they’re all great. The initial date plan never happens because after the night they were supposed to go, the pop up ended sooner than it should have. That made YN feel even more guilty about changing their plans, but after a great afternoon spent at a festival it was forgotten. Especially with how well things went.

YN and Yoongi clicked in a romantic way. They both felt it and weren’t shy about the growth in their affection towards each other nor their feelings.

However, despite their dating for over a month neither of them had made the move to make things more official. Which wasn’t really necessary since they and everyone else knew they were together, but it didn’t stop the odd thought here and there about if Yoongi genuinely wanted to commit to YN. And he was sure Yoongi had the same thought whenever he went to introduce YN and stumbled on what to call him. Neither of them said anything though.

Everyone thought they were being stupid, including Sidney, but they let them work out their stuff at their own pace. Even if their own pace was two idiots not just addressing the one thing that could remove any inkling of doubt, while knowing the other is thinking it.

It would have gone on longer if on the day that YN and Yoongi were going on yet another date, Sidney was too. There was a doctor that she’d been sleeping with that she sometimes went out with, though usually only as a preface to sex. After an incident where she had to explain to him that anal beads were not in fact candy, things had been strained and Sidney said he’d asked her out to get closer again. She didn’t see it becoming much more, but she also wasn’t against trying so she’d agreed.

As she’d parted ways with YN after they left the apartment there had been an offhand comment from her telling YN to ensure her boyfriend didn’t eat the cookie dough she had sitting in the fridge. The recipe called for a two-day waiting period before baking and she refused to make another batch just because Yoongi was a fiend.

Usually YN brushed off the label, but it stuck with him that time and he felt his mind go into overdrive as his cheeks burned at the thought. Yoongi was not his boyfriend, but he wanted him to be and that meant that he was going to have to ask him. He needed a plan to do that, but just as his brain got to working on one Yoongi’s car pulled up.

The thought was dismissed as he hopped in and Yoongi leaned over to give him a quick peck on the lips before pulling away from the building.

For a moment all YN thought about was how soft his lips were.

That was until he realized he was unfamiliar with the route being driven and didn’t even know what the date was supposed to be.

“Uh, where are we going?” he asked.

Yoongi shook his head immediately. “I didn’t tell you for a reason. You’ll find out when we get there.”

Naturally, that made YN pout, but he didn’t press him for it.

“I would joke about you taking me somewhere to kill me, but you’re too lazy to dispose of a body. Unless Sidney didn’t actually go on a date and is waiting for you and my dead body at a second location.”

At first Yoongi laughed, but then his brows furrowed and a frown formed upon his lips.

“She has a date? Please tell me it’s not with anal bead dude?”

All YN did was sigh and that elicited a groan of annoyance from Yoongi. He didn’t care for the man and that was before the aforementioned incident. There were many times he’d told YN, Sidney, their friends, and the man in question how stupid he thought he was. And how he didn’t understand how he managed to get Sidney to be around him for more than two seconds, let alone became a doctor. It wasn’t the most he’d disliked one of the people Sid was with, but it was apparently up there on the top of the list.

“You know she isn’t even into him that much, so I don’t know why you’re so worried. Not like she’s going to marry him suddenly. She’d probably marry Jin before anyone else. They mesh,” YN offered trying to placate him.

There was a huff from Yoongi and then a nod. “True. Or Hoseok, they would probably be good together. If they ever stopped being busy when the other could finally come around.”

“One day.”

From there conversation fizzled and YN stared out of the window watching the world go by. Minutes ticked by and then they were pulled into a parking lot and headed to a train station. Even as YN realized the direction they were headed he couldn’t figure out what it was they were going to do.

Which was fine since they reached their destination and he would have never guessed it in a million years. And he was beyond happy about that.

They stood in line at a place that wore the sign of the artist he’d wanted to see the work of and from the windows he could see it was a similar pop up to the one they’d been meant to go to. The pieces were different, but it was still a set up for dining amongst the works.

YN was so shocked and giddy that he didn’t utter a word until they were seated at a table for two and waiting for their waiter to return with water.

“I didn’t know they opened another one. I’d been hoping and stalking their accounts for it, but nothing ever came up. Not even yesterday. This is so fuckin’ cool,” he said.

The ramblings of joy didn’t stop there, YN continued on gushing about the artwork and about how much he loved being there. And there were several thank yous thrown Yoongi’s way, all of which he waved off.

There just hadn’t been something that excited him like that in a while and he couldn’t shut up about it. Not that Yoongi seemed to mind. They still had a back and forth, Yoongi putting his two cents in and sometimes being the reason for why the conversation shifted in one direction or another. Though it was mostly about the artwork and sometimes about how good the food was.

Before YN knew it they’d finished dinner and began to walk around to look at the art. Though the entrance area held some there was another room down a short hallway that gave more of the feel of an actual gallery. The things hung in there had a similar feel to the things in the dining space but were vastly different. The artist tended to be more traditional with their stuff, but the things back there were more digital.

And right then YN fell more in love with their work and Yoongi found himself entranced by it for the first time.

At that point they were kids in a candy store calling over the parents every time they found something that they loved. It was chaotic, but they both had enough patience to wait for one another to come look at what they were talking about.

They were beyond adorable. But they were also so caught up in the work that they didn’t realize how much time had passed until there was an announcement of five minutes until closing. There was some pouting on both their parts, but they understood and turned to go hand and hand.

Until YN stopped suddenly.

Confused, Yoongi stopped too and turned to glance at him. He was met with a wide smile, but a determined expression. It clearly worried him and he opened his mouth to speak, but so did YN.

“Is somethi-”

“Will you be my boyfriend? Also, can we do the tattoo tonight?”

The first question had Yoongi choking on air and missing the second one.

“Repeat that,” he said.

Seconds ticked by with YN saying nothing, because despite the confidence during the initial ask, he felt his nerves kick in hard as he was requested to say it again.

“Um, well I asked if you would be my boyfriend and if I could finally get that tattoo.”

More silence came as Yoongi’s mouth opened wide and closed repeatedly, the poor man was doing a terrible fish impression. It would have been funny or something to tease him about in many situations, but all it did was make YN nervous as he waited for an answer.

Thankfully, the suffering only lasted about thirty seconds before Yoongi pulled it together. He pulled YN close, their faces inches apart and then answered.

“Yes,” he said before closing the distance and pressing a kiss to YN’s lips.

It was a gentle, yet passionate kiss that made YN melt into his embrace. He never wanted to leave that moment, but when they pulled apart he couldn’t stop the happy feeling that filled him. Which was only amplified by Yoongi’s bright smile.

They would have stayed like that, but then the two-minute warning came and they realized they needed to move. But before they left Yoongi turned to YN.

“Also, that was yes to both things if that wasn’t clear. I’ll text Kook in the car.”

And just like that they were off. They practically sprinted to the train station and then to the car once they got off the train. There was a buzz of adrenaline surrounding them and it didn’t start to lessen until they stepped foot inside the shop.

Though Yoongi still appeared incredibly happy and ready to conquer the world, YN found himself deflating a bit. Each step towards Yoongi’s room brought on nerves and by the time his butt hit the seat of the tattoo chair he felt like he was halfway ready to sprint out of the room.

All the feelings from when they chose the tattoo came back and he was there unsure of whether to go through it, despite really wanting to. It was a recipe for disappointment and he didn’t want to chicken out again, but his brain wasn’t being kind.

The shift in him went unnoticed by Yoongi until he turned to him with the printed off stencil in hand. When he saw YN’s downturned lips and the tense behavior he frowned.

“We don’t have to do this, you know,” Yoongi said softly.

That almost broke YN, because he was being so sweet about enduring YN’s indecisive ass twice in a row. It was too nice of him and it only made YN frown more, but instead of guilt flooding in certainty did. Something in YN shifted and drowned out the other voice being a pain in his ass and suddenly a smile graced his lips.

“No. I want to do it,” he said.

Of course, Yoongi appeared unsure for a moment but after staring him down he nodded and got to work.

Alcohol pads were used to wipe down YN’s arm and then the stencil was placed. It was done a few times to get the right placement, but when it was just right on his forearm Yoongi proceeded; with caution though.

He allowed YN to choose the music and asked if he was sure, then grabbed the gun and turned it on. The first mark was a tense one for both of them, but as time went on things grew more relaxed and went along smoothly.

The tattoo in question wasn’t that big, but it had some intricate details that needed all of Yoongi’s focus. It left YN alone with his thoughts, but he never drifted to a bad place. If anything he was more so worried about how long it would take and trying to play on his phone without moving the arm that Yoongi was working on.

A few hours and one small break later though, the tattoo was done. Yoongi had been able to get it done completely but said YN would have to come back once it was healed to get it colored again just to be safe.

That didn’t matter to YN though. In that moment all he wanted to do was see the thing. He’d avoided looking at it through the process and during the break so he could get the full effect, and that is definitely what he got.

The moment his eyes laid on the tattoo through the mirror his body shook as tears fell rapidly.

On his forearm was a forest of leafless trees. The setting was winter and that could be seen from the snow that was depicted falling down. While the trees were a lot of the tattoo they started before the crook up his elbow and stopped about two or three inches before his wrist. From that point on a plot of blue dahlias among snow took up the remainder of the space. Though the ones they were thinking of when coming up with the tattoo were red, they’d chosen blue because it was something that already brought YN happiness. But it didn’t stop there. Since the dahlias weren’t as tall as the trees it left space above it. So, in the midst of all the little snowflakes were words written in a beautiful script. They were truly the thing that evoked the most emotion from YN.

We'll be in full bloom at the end of these hardships.

Those words resonated with him on a whole different level and though they were bittersweet, all he felt was joy with them. Hope too. Those were things he thought were out of his reach, but he’d finally felt them.

Yoongi, Sidney, their friends, and most of all YN himself had finally helped him see he could feel like life was on his side. And it was the greatest feeling in the world.

[seijohsfairy]

𝙿𝙴𝚃𝚄𝙻𝙰𝙽𝚃

he does his very best to give you everything, you know this better than most. so the least you can do is not get jealous. you don’t get jealous… just maybe get a little fussy instead.

.wordc. 4k+ tw (step)daddy, size kink, belly bulge, degradation, hairpulling, spit, jealousy

+

With his teeth in the crook of your neck with his strong arms looped around your -in comparison- tiny body, he pounds his hips up into you until your eyes roll back in your skull. “Needy- fucking- bitch,” the muffled grunts come with each thrust, and all you can do is keep your fingers stuffed into your mouth and holding onto the short hairs at the base of his skull. “Like having a cock too big to stuff your dirty, cockhungry cunt?”

“Yeah, love your— fat cock.” Each wet slap of your pussy being battered by a dick too big for you rings way too loud in the quiet of the otherwise abandoned room, his huge cock going so deep it pushes up against the edge of your poor walls. Your fingers and chin are covered in spit, eyes closed tight and tits bouncing with the motions, unable to even close your legs for a little reprieve. “So deep.”

The bench creaks against the motions. And he rests his forehead onto your shoulder for a moment to hold you down, breathing deeply. “Gonna cum?” His voice so low and gravelly, body radiating heat that leaves you both with sweat rolling down exposed skin. You think you nod in response, but it’s hard to tell when your head’s so cloudy you can’t tell left from right, trying to keep from crying out. “Wanted daddy’s cock so bad you had to beg for it like a whore, so you better.” Then he’s moving again, one hand dropping to your ass to help you along with the ruthless pace he sets in your wet slit.

“C-can’t,” you cry around your fingers when his chest brushes up against your overstimulated nipples, clenching around the heat and dripping all over him. “Wanna -quit, mhm-wan’cum. ‘S too big.” Your thighs strain with the effort to drop yourself at his rhythm, your muscles clenching more each time your clit rubs against the coarse hair around his cock. “So close, daddy!” Your voice, muffled and high pitched, is still no match for the lewd sounds that fill the room and his heavy grunts. You moan at the way his frown digs a little deeper, biting his lip in focus. “Yes, yes, ah-please!” With a few more thrusts, you drop down onto his cock all the way until it pushes against your cervix, and the tight coil in your belly snaps. “Sh- mhm— thankyouthankyou daddy!”

“Fuck,” he hisses, “milk my cock, slut.” Your walls clench around him so hard you see double, pulling your wet fingers out of your mouth to dig them into the hard muscles of his shoulders with a loud string of incoherent begs. And he follows close after, filling your belly with warmth until his thick cum spills out and makes even more of a mess. But he only stops until your body slumps entirely against his chest, so fucked out your toes tingle, and the blood rushing in your head is so loud you can’t hear anything else. He keeps you tight to his hot body, breathing deeply against your sticky skin.

Everything after that moves quicker, sadly. Your head is still pounding a little as he helps you off his lap and onto your feet, wiping your drool off your face and kissing your lips until you manage to lift your arms enough to get your shirt back on. You don’t even know how many minutes pass in silence as he helps you clean up, allowing you the time to come back to earth. “Tired?” he asks, and you nod along, collapsing against his chest with a deep whine.

“I don’t think I want to try walking for at least half an hour.” You stand and watch as he drops his boxers and digs through his bag for his gear, quick to put it all on. Though his grin grows wider the longer you stare at him, you’re not even trying to hide it. Jersey stretching over his wide chest and shoulders, before he tucks himself into fresh boxers and shorts.

“Enjoying yourself?” he chuckles when you bite your lip, nodding cutely. You go to stand onto the bench with a little sigh to motion him over, taking a brief moment to fix his hair as his large hand rests at the small of your back. Pretty hazel eyes watching you with a revering gaze. When you’re done, he clicks his tongue. “Gotta rush out there, pretty thing, I gotta go to warm-ups.” He presses a quick kiss to your pouty lips as he helps your underwear back up your body, but his gaze lingers for a moment too long for you to believe the responsible front he’s putting on. Even if he doesn’t admit it, the way his hands come to paw at your tummy says enough, pushing on it a little until you grab his wrist and squeak.

“Daddy!”

The wet squelch of his cum gushing out of you into the drenched fabric is enough to have heat rising to your face again. “Leaking my cum into those pretty panties?” You fake a frown, but enjoy the way his fingers trail up your body under his shirt. “Hm, that’s too bad.” The little purse of his lips quickly morphs back into a smile when you push his arms away from your body. “I’ll see you in a few hours,” he promises, stuffing his bag into the locker. Everyone’s definitely already warming up in the other gym. If anything you’re lucky that they haven’t come around to find their captain yet. “Cheer for me?”

“Of course, daddy,” you say back, eyeing him down a little longer. He really does look too damn unholy in the tight uniform, sending you a last little look that already has your insides warming again.

+

There’s very little that can make you jealous. You’ve won over a lot of obstacles to be with Meian the way you are, and though it’s technically a secret, the gazes his teammates send you when you cheer for your daddy or come around training a bit earlier than you should to watch him are far from unknowing. Of course the large majority of the crowd doesn’t know though, so it’s easy to blend into the cheers of the supporters. In all black and gold, there’s few things you enjoy more than showing off to everyone what you mean to him, jumping and cheering from the stands. You don’t care that they don’t know who you are, or that some of his fans send daggers into your back with their glares.

After all, it’s not for nothing that your skirt shows off the bruises and hickeys on your thighs, his jacket falling way down your body like it could be a dress. The number four on the back also painted on your face as you wave your banner excitedly back and forth. He sends a quick glance back, eyebrows furrowed to look for your face in the mess of people, and grins when he spots you. You wave and smile, letting your heart make a jump when he winks at you, then turning back to the team. This little game between you two is nothing new— hell, most of the players have their own little routines. The first set went by so quickly, and your side of the area is ecstatic, buzzing with excitement.

But as the whistle rings, there’s a distinct murmur right behind you that is harder to ignore by the second. “He winked this way, did you see?” “Who did? Him?” “The Captain, number 4. Meian Shugo.” You really try your best to ignore them, try to watch the game progress below you, but it’s so hard when they seem to be only one of two rows behind you. And loud at that. “At— that girl over there that’s wearing his number, you think? She looks way young.” “I know he got divorced not too long ago, you think that’s his new girl? What a shame.” The longer the conversation continues, the more you have to fight the urge to turn around, tapping your foot on the floor to quell your nerves.

“Ugh, just imagine what a man like that can do,” one of the girls sighs after a while, and even the man to your side turns around to give them a little glare. “What? Are we not allowed to talk?” she hisses, cutting her argument short when the man turns back at the sound of another whistle, the opposing team coming up to serve. They are clearly not here for the enjoyment of the sport, and though you can understand it to a degree, there’s a certain self consciousness that creeps up your spine when they continue, under their breath. “Whatever, even if he has a girlfriend, that doesn’t mean we can’t go say hi after the match. I wanna know what he’s like with a body like that.” “Yeah, same. I’d love to see what’s underneath those shorts. Ride him until he’s out of breath.”

The shrill laugh of the girls is all you can hear through the cheers, clinging a bit harder to the banner in your hands. And it’s so stupid to get jealous, but the way they talk about him hits a part of you that you don’t like giving into. After all, you’re living in the same house as him and currently have his cum soaking into your panties, but no one is allowed to know. And you’re not so sure if that’ll ever change. “If that’s really his girlfriend, I feel bad for him. She looks like she never takes charge in anything, let alone the bedroom.” Her friend snickers. “You’re so right, poor guy.” MSBY suddenly scores a point, knocking you out of your daze when the entire crowd jumps forward in cheers, squishing you to the bannister a little more. And Meian smacks the grey-haired spiker on the back with a smile, before turning back towards the stands to send you another glance.

But the smile you manage to send him is only superficial, fisting your hands into his jersey a bit tighter. The rest of the match continues mostly as normal after, with you ending up waiting patiently outside the changing rooms. And though you know you shouldn’t let it unnerve you, though you know it’s just simple gossip among friends, their words stick to the forefront of your thoughts while he keeps his distance as long as he’s with the team and through the crowd of interviewers until you both get into the car.

You get into the driver as he slumps into the passenger seat, exhausted and ready to get out of the mess of loud people to go home and sleep it off as soon as possible. “Don’t fall asleep yet, daddy, I won’t be able to get you out of the car.” You start the car with a few glances to the side of his face, a tired but contented smile on his lips when you back out of the parking lot and away from the mass of people, an agreeing hum low and calm in between you two for the first time in a few hours. Only then does his large hand find it’s way to your skin again, dropping into your lap to draw soft circles onto the inside of your thigh.

“I missed you, baby.”

“Yeah,” you drop your bottom lip from between your teeth, “missed you too.”

+

When you wake up with a jolt, the first thing you notice is how tight your chest feels. You’re hot all over, slotted against his chest on your side, and judging by how wet you are you’ve been this way for a while. Flushed, and your belly awfully empty. And you’ve learned what happens if you take care of yourself, definitely not in the mood to risk it. So you do the only thing you can do and shift your hips back more, pressing your ass against the bugle in his boxers. No wonder you woke up hot and bothered. “Hmm,” you whine a little when you push back more and rub your covered pussy up and down his center. You can’t help it, you want daddy’s cock more than anything right now.

It doesn’t take long for your motions to shake him awake, definitely when you bring your hand down between your legs to rub up against his half hard cock, grabbing him through the fabric. A deep rumble falls from his chest when you pull the boxers down enough to let his dick out, spitting onto your hand to grab for him. You rub your wet palm over the head of his cock a few times before wrapping your fingers around him— as much as you can at least with the size of it, still rocking your hips back against him and getting more wet by the second. “What d’ya think you’re doin,” he sighs under his breath as he cracks one eye open, grunting at the way you’re rubbing your desperate cunny along the length of him over and over.

“Woke up needing you so bad,” you bring out, just letting your panties get more and more wet the longer you continue. And his cock twitches in between your legs as you work your fingers around, rubbing the precum around all over the pretty head of his cock until he bucks his hips back against you. It presses up against you more the harder you try, tilting your hips to allow him to touch your clit over and over. “Need daddy’s cock inside,” you admit under your breath, shifting away for just a second to rid yourself of the fabric sticking to your pussy. When you’re barely done with that he’s already pulling you back to his body to push his cock between your folds a few times without actually going in. It makes your entire body heated, hairs standing on end and getting more slick by the second. You grab onto his wrist for support in pushing back against him. “Ha-nhg, please-daddy feels so good, so warm.”

You even shift your legs apart best you can to get more friction and access, something that makes him hum. His chest pressed up against your back makes you feel even smaller, packed muscles and strong arms caging you in against him. “You want it so bad, baby?” He shifts onto one elbow behind you to look at your face, how you’re tearing up with the overwhelming heat and need setting your body alight. The hot, leaking head pushes against your hole and pushes in a tiny bit, only to pull back and slap his fat cock against your pussy with a wet ‘pap’ each time. “Wanna have it in here, fill you up, filthy girl?”

“Yes!” you instantly reply, shivering when he uses his free hand to shove your shirt up your body to reveal your tits, rising and falling desperately against the heat. He rubs his thumb over each a few times, then grabbing your tits into his giant hand and squeezing softly. Still teasing the heavy head of his giant cock between your legs while you’re leaving your shiny wetness all over him. Your hips instinctively push back against him when he brings the head back to your hole, trying to lower onto it, only to be stopped by his hand on your hip. You can’t help the whine that comes out at that, still pushing back as much as you can.

“Pleasepleaseplease, daddy!! Ah-ple-hng.” You push his hand back away from your hip and reach between your legs again to push him back up to your dripping pussy again, slowly starting to sink yourself onto him. It never goes easy because he’s just that big, but the stretch of just pushing back on him is enough to have you moaning out, dropping your face into the plush. “Please, want your big -hm- cock. Wanna have daddy ruin me.” He keeps you in place again though, slowly rocking his hips around in circles to stretch you out more, popping back out again and you have to hold the overwhelming urge to kick your feet, instead arching your back and leaning into his hand when he pinches your nipples hard. “J-Fu— Wan’it, wan’it!”

“Oh, the fucking brat knows what she wants?” he mumbles back as he guides himself back between your legs, not holding you down this time. Instead he just grabs onto your thigh as he rolls his hips, your eyes stinging with wetness. “Go ahead then. Got my cocksleeve all needy and worked up and I haven’t even done anything yet.” It’d be easier to ignore his taunting tone if it wasn’t paired with a thrust, shoving another two thick inches into your gushing cunny until you’re crying and shaking on his cock, not sure if you want to get back off or not. The stretch is so painfully good, walls fluttering around the wide intrusion desperately. You roll your hips though, whimpering at the feeling of him spearing you open so wide. It’s not fair. You had him earlier today, but it feels like you’re being stretched for the first time all over again.

“Daddy, please, wanna cream around it, have it break me open please,” you reach back to cling to his forearm, taking a few deep breaths and crying out when it causes his cock to slide even further in. But for as much as you’re struggling, you know that there’s nothing more you want than all of him filling you out. “Need it, ack, d-deep. More, daddy, quickly!” you beg, forcing yourself back and onto him more again, your eyes rolling back in your skull when you arch your back and his cock presses up so good against your gummy, drooling walls. “Please use my holes as you need, ‘s all for you, daddy.” At this point you’re so fed up not being able to take more at once that you pound your little fist onto his thigh a few times and shake your head through your tears, pulling his hand in between your legs. “Put it— mhm-ahh, deeper, please!”

The little request along with the way you roll your hips back on half of his cock like a bitch in heat leaves him stunned, gripping you close by your belly as the hand between your legs rubs messy circles over your clit. “Fuck— What’s got you so fucking desperate?” he hisses when you clench on his cock again, pushing in more at your whimpers. “That feel good?” The way he’s filling you up alone is enough to have your belly tightening like crazy, going crazy at the touches to your puffy nub.

“Yes-hng, yeah, more, moremoremore. Want it all,” you nod, squeezing your own tits and breathing, feeling how he slides in further and further and the messy, quick motions of his two fingers to your clit go even faster. “All of you, ple-ah!” Same time as you try to catch your breath a little, going lightheaded, he bottoms out inside you with a hard thrust, and the coil in your belly pulls so tight you can feel it all the way to your feet. He keeps rubbing, rutting his cock almost in place to stretch you out a little more, but you don’t even get to warn him as your eyes pull closed and your pussy clenches around him like a vice. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck— daddy!” You squirm as your orgasm travels through you, vision spotting black and white and that enormous heat filling your belly.

But you barely take a break to breathe before you’re turning over your shoulder to lean into his collarbones, grabbing onto his shoulder and breathing heavily against his skin. “Daddy’s cock is mine, all mine. Only for me,” you bring out, lifting your leg over his thigh for better access, tears being smushed around your cheeks. He obliges though, pulling out and pushing back inside faster, inside your sensitive cunny with the flushed head of his cock kissing your cervix each time he fills you out.

Your brabbling is barely coherent anymore, sticking so close and rolling your hips as best as you can. “Only belongs inside me. Your pretty cock’s hmh-all mine.” Though you can’t see it though your tears, his lip is pulled between his teeth, pretty eyes focussed on the way your face changes with each thrust, in awe of your words. You’re not normally this mouthy, but the words just keep coming.“‘M gonna take all of your cum like a g-good- girl,” you moan and whine, and he pulls you even closer by your waist to thrust up into you a bit faster. “No one else.”

“Yeah,” he hums, now using his thighs to fuck up into you and to make your tits bounce, the bed banging against the wall with each thrust. He grabs onto your hair to keep your back arched for him and presses a kiss to your wet cheek, moaning. “S’all yours, pretty baby.”

“No one else -ah-can touch your cock or sit on it, okay?” you mumble, mindlessly nodding your head when he grunts your name under his breath, the pace now knocking the air out of your lungs. “Just— your good girl- ah, ah, ah, f-forever! Wanna feel your cock up here until you can’t give any more, daddy!” You manage to bring your hand to your belly to push a little against the bulge that shows each time he bottoms out, balls and hips slapping against you and the wetness of your creamed pussy around his cock filling the room.

“Shit- Look at you being all possessive,” Meian takes a deep breath and brings his hand back between your legs again, cock twitching inside you. Each thrust of his fat cock inside your ruined walls brings you back closer to your high, and the heavy, dirty words he growls when your walls flutter around him. “Little, slutty cunt drooling all over me— fuck, baby, taking me so well. You like feeling daddy’s huge cock filling you up to the brim?”

“Yes, feels so good! So big, hng-good- inside, ah— daddy, daddy!” The heat between your bodies building so hot you can’t think straight. All you know is that you’ve never felt so good, his length driving you open and bulging your belly so perfectly. Your heartbeat is so loud between your ears, neck and back held tight in place and your ass jiggling with his relentless fucking. “Ahng! Ah, ah, ah, always want to cream on your fat cock, no one else gets to. Only me- f-for daddy!” More, tighter, it builds to a peak again like the rhythmic pounding of the headboard into the wall, your cries choked and drool covering your lips, swollen from your consistent biting. “Ah- haaaa, please, wanna cum on your cock again. Gonna—”

“Already?” He brings out a surprised huff, but keeps going and even faster, close as well.

“Mhm! Ah- yes, love your big cock so much, feels -mhm- s’good!” you cry as you’re bounced on his cock all pathetically, squeezing your own tits and nipples for the most amount of stimulation. It’s inevitable when he notices how close you are and rubs your clit even faster again, making your legs shake. “S’g-good, please, wanna c-cum. Don’t stop, don’t stop, wan’ -hmng- d- ah, cumming! Cum—ming-hng -ah, ahng!”

You hit your high even harder than before, vision completely blacking for a few seconds as he helps you through it without hesitating, thrusting your spasming walls open again and again and again. Pushing up against your cervix a few more times with pleasurable pain that leaves your body shaking and pussy creaming around his cock all over again. “Daddy, daddy, daddy!” you mumble out, as he spurts his hot ropes of cum into your pussy, fucking it into you until you’re both twitching from overstimularion.

He lets go of your hair and slumps into you then, keeping you warm in his arms and pulling you close to his sweaty chest. Both of your hearts hammering in different patterns against your rib cages, his cock kept inside you. It’s Meian who catches his breath first, slowly untangling himself from your body to look down at you through narrowed eyes, ever so slowly pulling out of you after all. “Baby,” comes his chastising tone first, and you whine at it, but he’s quick to keep you just as close to press his lips to your jaw. “That was so stupidly hot,” he breathes, “locking around my cock like a fuckin’ vice.” You crack open one eye to watch him inspect you top to bottom, then playing with the edge of the shirt still shoved up above your tits. “What the fuck was that all about?”

But you just give him a lazy grin, and snuggle closer to his chest. “I’ll tell you later, daddy.”

[wwilloww]

athair lusa | pjm

athair lusa, the ground ivy, springing up from the soil with rich, purple flowers and broad green leaves.  

Origin: Ireland

Pairing: Jimin x FaePrince!Taehyung

Genre: Folklore. Suspense. Fae!Au.  

Rating: NC-17

WC: 2.4k

Summary: “Is it not a strange request,” Jimin says, “to ask me to dance when there is no music?” While on his way to draw water from the well, Jimin slips on a rock. When he stands up again, the world around him seems unrecognizable, as if everything has been dusted with an unfamiliar enchantment. 

Warnings: Possessive behavior.  

A/N: This story, also known as “The Fairy Dance,” is a story I grew up to, one that was told to me over and over. I consider this to be part of a larger personal project to queer the stories I grew up on. It’s an effort to normalize the presence of queerness in lore and unravel gendered expectations within folktales. Because of this I’ve done my best to stick to the oral telling of this story in both content and style - meaning the writing differentiates itself significantly from my usual style! This project is special to me and I truly hope you enjoy it. I can’t wait to hear what you think of it.

Thank you to @jingabitch​ for helping me when I felt most stuck with this! Thanks a million to my love @ot7always​ for editing the image in this banner and listening to me ramble. And of course a hUGE THANKS to the lovely folk in BTS Smut Hub for being my constant inspiration and motivation.

And finally, this is part of @ksmutclub​’s Twisted Fairytale collaboration!

masterlist

Athair-Lusa.

In a town on the western most coast of the Isle, there lived a young man with hair that shone like the rays of August sun. He was beloved by the townspeople, known for the enchanting melodies that lifted from his lips like birdsong, ensnaring anyone in range. His name was Jimin.

One day in late November, as the night began to draw in, Jimin set down his reading and readied himself to go out into the darkness. He preferred the stillness of sunset and often went out at this time, just to hear the soft hymn of the world slipping slowly into sleep.

Now, it has long been known that the Veil between worlds is thinnest in November. As the remaining veins of summer fade from the land, spirits and creatures of the other worlds come to press up against the thin border between their world and ours. Even nighttime comes to linger, snatching time away from the golden fingers of the sun.

On this night, Jimin decided to take his walk to the well to gather water. He swung his wooden bucket over his shoulder and set off into the darkness. The trees stood tall above him, watching his path. Jimin felt the hair on his neck raise, as if something was watching him from the shadows. However, rather than turning home, he lifted his face to the night sky and sang. The music spilling from his lips split through the darkness of the night, and Jimin felt a sense of peace wash over him.

As the small stone structure of the well came into sight, his foot slipped. He could feel his ankle twisting, and then the feeling of falling through empty space. The air wooshed up around him as he fell.

His back hit the hard earth of the path, crushing the breath out of his lungs. For a moment, Jimin simply lay there, taking deep breaths to calm the fright in his body.

When he lifted his head, his old wooden bucket was nowhere to be seen. Instead of a path hardened by thousands of years of travelers, Jimin lay on a soft field of grass, shimmering emerald green beneath the full moon. Around him, everything seemed as if it had been touched by an enchantment. The trees, whose leaves had dropped a month ago, were now blossoming with flowers of the most brilliant colors. The chill of the winter air was replaced with a soft and warm breeze, lifted off a summer sea. And as he looked up at the sky, the moon hung twice as large, as if she had come down from her high throne in the sky to take a closer look at the goings-on of the people below.

As Jimin sat up, he saw a great crowd gathered a short distance away. As his vision cleared, he realized that they were circled round a fire that danced and leaped and seemed to reach out to the figures surrounding it. As if his mind had been wiped clean of thought, Jimin stood and began to move towards the crowd, mystified by their tall frames and slender figures.

Jimin himself was of average height, his body built like the land. Ready to work, ready to dance. But at this moment in time, Jimin’s body drew him forward towards the beings that stood round the fire, till at last, he stood in the very midst of them.

They held onto their silence, watching his every step. It was at this moment that he thought to be afraid. But as he made to step backward, to step out of their circle, he realized he could not.

Panic began to rise in his throat like bile, setting his muscles alight. Just as he opened his mouth to scream, the crowd around him turned and parted and a handsome young man stepped into view. Jimin’s eyes widened as he took in the figure, who walked like a prince. He wore a red sash, deep as freshly drawn blood. A golden band dressed his long dark hair, shining like the sky on the eve of a new moon.

Jimin’s heart thrummed in his chest as he realized the handsome prince was approaching him. He walked slowly towards him, allowing his eyes to rove over the young man. When he finally reached him, he bowed and extended a hand. An offering.

“Is it not a strange request,” Jimin said, “to ask me to dance when there is no music?”

The prince raised his head from the deep bow and swept his hand into the air. Instantly, the sweetest music carried through the night, surrounding them. He took Jimin’s hand with one of his own, wrapping the other one tightly around his waist. Jimin gasped as his chest was brought to the prince’s, their closeness sending warmth to his cheeks.

"What is your name, dear stranger?" Jimin asked, his brow furrowed. His words seemed to stick in his throat, bewilderment flooding his mind. Such a handsome stranger had never wrapped him up like this before, in such beauty, in such enchantment.

The prince smirked. "You may call me Taehyung."

"Are you a prince of these people?"

"If that is the word you use—then yes."

Jimin opened his mouth to ask more, but the Prince silenced him with a twirl, sending all thought of questioning the strange being before him out of his mind.

They danced until the moon became tired and went to sleep beneath the darkness of the horizon and the stars took their leave from the dance floor. As the prince twirled him round the fire, it seemed as if Jimin was gliding through the air. He had always been known by the townsfolk for his light touch and graceful step. But in the prince’s arms, Jimin’s body felt different. The strain of the movements was eased and he felt boundless energy spring up in his chest beneath the attentive gaze of the prince.

"I have never seen a man dance with your grace," the Prince mused, his gaze falling to Jimin's lips. "Or known one to capture such beauty in his every movement."

Jimin was not used to such flattery. His cheeks were painted with his embarrassment, he ducked his head. The Prince was quick to lift his chin, bringing his face ever-so-close.

“Do you like me, sweet boy?” the Prince asked, tilting his head.

“I do not know you,” Jimin replied, slowly. “How do I know if I like you if I have just met you?”

“There is an eternity to get to know me.” A smirk flashed across the Prince’s sharp features before he pulled Jimin tightly against his tall frame and spun him further into the dance.

Twirling around the fire, it became easy to forget the rest of the world. For that moment, all that existed was the feeling of his feet leaping off the ground, and the low music, and the feeling of being held so tightly by his partner.

Just as Jimin began to feel like time was slipping away from him, the figures around him stilled and the music slowed to a complete halt. The prince still had his arms wrapped around the smaller man, his face pressed close and curious.

"Will you dine with us tonight, dear Jimin?" the prince asked, his voice threaded with sweetness. Jimin's gaze fell to the prince's lips where a small smile played along the pink, plush corner. He wondered when the Prince had learned his name.

Before he could answer, the ground rumbled and split open, a long staircase descending into the darkness of the earth. The prince held out a hand, and hesitating, Jimin took it. Despite the warmth of the tall man's palm, Jimin's skin erupted in goosebumps.

The prince led him down the flight of steps, the rest of the dancers following silently behind. It seemed as if the stairs might never end, the rock around them becoming darker and warmer as they descended. After an unspeakable time, the steps widened and a great hall appeared before them, lit by thin candles that stood as tall as Jimin. As he looked up at the ceiling of the hall, he realized there was no roof, despite the depth to which they had descended. Instead, a yawning darkness looked down upon the company and untethered, unsourced lights bobbed gently through the air as if upon an invisible current. Before them lay a great table, heaped with every delicacy Jimin had ever conceived of and decanters filled with the most aromatic wines.

The Prince squeezed his hand tenderly, guiding him to the head of the table. There, the Prince took the golden plated chair and motioned for Jimin to take the one beside it. Gratefully, he bowed his head and slipped silently into the seat, admiring the gentle merriment and splendor laid before him.

As Jimin took the scene before him in, the Prince leaned closer to him, reaching out to twirl a piece of his light hair between his fingers.

“I’ve always wanted this,” the Prince said, his eyes never leaving the man’s hair.

“W-what?”

The Prince seemed to catch himself and pulled himself out of his reverie.

“I am a collector of beautiful things,” he said, as if that explained his strange words.

“I don’t understand.”

The Prince smiled softly, running his finger down Jimin’s nose and over his lips.

“Then drink and be merry,” he sang, his voice strung together in the most beautiful melody.

A dark-haired lady came between the Prince and Jimin, holding a jewel-encrusted decanter. Bowing her head, she first filled the Prince's cup, her hands wrapping slender and delicate around the silver handle. But as Jimin watched, he realized there was a slight tremble to her movements. He looked up at her, only to see her eyes darting to and from the Prince and his newest companion.

The young lady came around Jimin's other side, and as she leaned over to pour his golden goblet full of the sweet wine, she whispered in his ear, "Eat no food, and drink no wine or you will never see your home again."

With that, the woman stood abruptly and disappeared down one of the many hallways that spotted the great chamber.

Jimin quickly set the cup down on the table. The Prince took note of this, his eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"My dear, sweet Jimin," he said, his voice threading through the air like song. His voice spoke of softness, of tender touches exchanged in the dark. And yet, as Jimin gazed upon him, he saw the coldness in the Prince's gaze. "Do you not enjoy the taste of my wine?"

"No, no," he said, quick to unravel the tension of the moment. "I am simply not thirsty."

The Prince leaned into him, a smile spreading across his lips. "After all that dancing, you must be thirsty." He brought the cup to Jimin's lips, but he held his mouth shut.

The others at the table had fallen silent to watch the Prince hold the goblet to the man’s lips.

A large one with silver hair that fell to his waist stood abruptly from his chair, knocking it back in the process. "Whoever comes to our table must drink with us," he growled, grabbing Jimin's arm. A deep shock ran through him, stopping his heart.

At that moment a red-haired lass, her hair split into intricate braids, snatched Jimin's free hand and tugged him from the grasp of the large silver-haired being.

"Run!" she commanded, tugging Jimin towards the stairs. The pair wove their way towards the entrance, dodging the grasp of the dancers.

Around him, Jimin could hear the bellowing anger of the Prince, echoing off the walls of the hall as if he stood in every corner. Chairs and platters crashed to the floor as his subjects jumped up, attempting to stop his exit.

While Jimin was not large and while he did not hold the brute strength that many men boasted about, he was graceful and swift. Guided by the red-haired woman's agile steps, his pace was quick, as if he had learned this kind of dance many many years ago.

The pair sprinted up the steps, hand-in-hand, until they emerged into the dark night. The coolness of the early winter air washed over them, bathing their red faces and stinging their lungs. From the satchel that hung round her waist, the woman withdrew a vine. She grabbed Jimin’s hand, opening it up so she could place the plant securely. With tenderness, she wrapped her hand around his, closing it in a fist.

"You are safe for the time being," she said, her breath heavy with effort. "Take this, and hold it until you reach home. No one can harm you." Jimin opened his palm to look down upon the large-leafed plant. Athair-Lusa. Ground ivy.

"Thank you," he whispered.

The woman nodded, a sad smile playing across her lips. Her eyes shone with the kind of grief that only one who knows their own destiny can hold.

Jimin could hear the sounds of footsteps running up the stairs and so he took the white and green plant and turned his back on the field, the stairs, and the man who had held him so tenderly; and he ran. He ran along the sward and through the forests surrounding the town, past the well, and across the path. At last, he reached his home. He threw open the wooden door and locked it behind him.

His heart beat so quickly and furiously he worried it would pound its way straight through his ribcage. Behind his back pressed to the door, he could hear a great sound emerge from the forest and a voice cried out to him—

"The power I had over you is gone through the magic of the herb that ties you to this world. But when you dance again to our music, you will stay with me forevermore, and nothing shall hinder that eternity."

Jimin closed his eyes, clutching the herb to his chest. When he had regained his breath, he made his way over to the small bed tucked in the corner of his small home, folding the leafy plant carefully beneath the collar of his shirt.

It took a while before sleep came for him, and when it did, it was restless and dreamless.

However, Jimin kept the magic branch safely tucked into his clothes every day and the Fae never troubled him.

But it took many years before the sweet, low sound of music and the searing eyes of the Prince left his dreams.

taglist: @ppersonna​ @thatlongspringnight​ @myimaginationsrunningwild​ @ladyartemesia​ @ezralia-writes​ @ggukcangetit​

masterlist

[seiin-translations]

2.43 S1 Chapter 1.7 - Young Yunichika

7. (COOL BUT WORST) PLAYMAKER

Translation Notes

1. The term used here, 球威, means “pitcher’s stuff”, which basically refers to how effective a pitch is at being the pitch it’s supposed to be

2. Refers to the popular myth/saying/action that writing the character for “person” on your hand and then pretending swallowing it will relieve stress

3. Some neat wordplay here. アタッカー並み means on par with an attacker, but 並みのアタッカー means average attacker

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He felt like he could see Haijima’s smug face painted on the raised set. It was after the opponent blocker fell for the decoy in front of the net and jumped. Kuroba jumped in from behind the decoy with a back-row attack. From the point of view of the opponent blocker, a new shadow suddenly shot out from above the decoy’s head. This was the combination they were best at, called a pipe attack, and it should have been already analyzed by the opponent, but it felt great to be given a face of astonishment that said, “How did you appear there!?” every time. This is the moment when I’m the coolest one on the court.

Haijima’s sets were completely different than his senpai setter’s sets from last year. Kuroba still couldn’t explain it in theory, but even though his senpai’s sets were a big arch that “went up and fell down,” Haijima’s sets “didn’t fall down.” The ball was thrown “straight” to the place where it could only be reached by stepping in the fastest, jumping the highest and swinging his arms at the highest point. If he didn’t stop it, it would just whoosh past him. In practice, he constantly missed the timing and missing the ball, which ended into arguments. While he became reckless everyday, desperate to stop the ball next time for sure—a strange phenomenon occurred today.

As long as he jumped and swung his arms with all strength, the ball would be there. The sets fitted into his hands so cleanly, like they were sticking to his hands, that there was not even a millimeter of deviation. All he had to do was to add power and hit it out with a nice feeling. He cut through the gaps in the opponents’ defense, who were unable to take a step, and landed after seizing the ball with his eyes until it pierced the court. “Yes!” he pumped his arm into the air, still on his knees.

“Yuni!”

“You were so cool!”

While his gathered teammates messed up his hair, he searched for Haijima. He caught a glimpse of Haijima, who was always on the outside of circles like these. Haijima smiled thinly and nodded.

The rotation moved once, and Kuroba came up to the front row right after he did a back-row attack in the back row. When Haijima went down from the front row to serve in exchange, they exchanged a low high-five as they passed each other.

July 26th. The first round of the boys’ volleyball division for the Prefectural Middle School Summer Games, taking place on the two courts of A and B in the Suzumu City Municipal Gymnasium. In the first game on Court A, Monshiro Middle already took the first set. For the second set, the other side came close in the middle of the game because of a disordered receive, but they didn’t allow them to form a comeback and extended a wide lead again to close out the set. It was a three-set match, so if they took this set, they would have a straight-set win.

Haijima moved back considerably in the service zone, almost to the wall, and got into the serve position. He put the ball in his left hand and extended his arm straight out in front of him. His narrow eyes were narrowed even more sharply and he stared at the other side of the net with a fixed gaze. For a moment, the stands that were cheering loudly fell deathly silent. Everyone held their breaths at the clear, intimidating something Haijima was clad in.

Taking just one second to lightly adjust his breathing, he tossed the ball up high without any perceivable jump and hit a powerful jump serve from a beautiful, textbook-like form. The gym became filled with cheers that bordered on roars once again.

But it was a bit too long. It’s out—Kuroba could see it in his eyes, but there was no time for the receiver to avoid it. The ball bounced up all the way to the ceiling with such tremendous power (1) that the receiver nearly fell over.

Ah——.

His body moved naturally before he could think about it, and he jumped. Above the net, he caught hold of the ball that returned directly and knocked it down to the opponent’s court.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Since sixteen schools participated in the first round, the passages behind the gym were crowded with players in jerseys of all sorts of colors, teachers, and management staff.

“Somehow while I was in a daze…”

“We won!”

“With a team of only eight people!”

“Yuni, you reacted well to that direct one.”

“Well, I guess. For some reason, I feel like I can see the ball really well today. Also, when I see the opponent’s faces, I somehow know what they’re gonna do.”

“What the hell’s that, that sounds cool. I’m falling for you!”

“We should have talked to the girls from class more. All I could hear was the moms’ voices.”

“Agh, I was switching the moms’ voices with the girls’ voices in my head, but you just dragged me back to reality!”

Having finished their match in good time, everyone was still in good spirits, and there was a constant stream of excited chatter. It seemed that the match that started at the same time in Court B was carried over to the third set, so muffled cheers and the sound of the ball bouncing could be heard. When he wondered why this extremely stupid conversation never ended, he realized that it was because Haijima wasn’t there to chop through the mood. He was supposed to be with them when they left the court, but…

Their advisor, who had said he was going to drop by the management headquarters, came back just then.

“Sensei, do you know where Haijima is?”

“He went back inside. The second match in Court A is about to start soon. He said that he’s going to go watch it since it’ll decide who we face in the second round.”

“Eh…He didn’t have to go alone.”

If it’s for our next opponent, then shouldn’t we all go scouting them out, not just Haijima? A tinge of dissatisfaction sprouted in his heart as he thought that he should have at least called out to them.

“Didn’t Haijima want to give you guys a break because he was worried? You’re fine now, but if you get too excited, you won’t enough energy for the second round.”

Haijima worried about them? It was a phenomenon that seemed like it wouldn’t happen even if the heavens and earth were turned upside-down. It was exactly a phenomenon. It was equal to a natural disaster that only happened once every few hundred million years or so.  

But, it was true that playing two games in one day was unfamiliar terrain for them. Although everyone seemed to be in good condition right now, it was hard to predict how tired they would be in the second game.

“But, you know, I knew Haijima had volleyball experience, but I didn’t expect him to be that good. Even when I stopped by the headquarters earlier, teachers from other schools kept coming up to me and asking who that player was.” 

“Hey, what about me? They didn’t ask about me?”

“Hmm? They didn’t.”

“Tch. My efforts always get overshadowed by Haijima.”

When he pouted and grumbled that, he was soothed with “You’ve got this from now on.”

“Keep this up for the second round. Don’t get too worked up about it and just have fun with everyone.”

He thought he was in good form and stood out quite a bit, but he guessed that Haijima’s skill was so outstanding that his own level wasn’t enough to leave an impression. He couldn’t believe that he was getting noticed by the volleyball team advisors from other schools, who was probably much more discerning than their own advisor.

“We’re gonna win”—Haijima was extremely confident, but at the same time, he was a realist. He never gave lenient assessments to himself or others, and he wasn’t the type of guy who would say soft and easy effort goals like “It would be nice if we could win.” He said that back then because he had a serious expectation that was possible.

He had a feeling now that it really might not be a dream if Haijima was there.

If they won four times, they won the championship. They had already cleared one match. Three more to go.

We can…reach it…?

I want to win, he thought. I want to win next time too. And after that. And then if we win after that—. When he heard it in June, he felt a lot of bewilderment, but now for the first time, he definitely wanted to win. His heart began to beat fast.

***

Right when they entered the venue since the time for the second round’s official practice was approaching, cheers similar to an angry roar rose up, and the entire team leaned back in the same direction despite themselves.

A horizontal banner—which wasn’t there in the first round—with the words “Monshiro Middle School Boys’ Volleyball Team” written with excessively good handwriting was hanging from the second-row bleachers. And next to that, there was a square flag with “Spread your wings! Kuroba UNIVERSE!”

His face turned hot.

“Wow. Yuni’s cheering squad is amazing.”

“It’s like we’re at Koshien.”

His teammates were more taken aback and put off rather than being jealous. Their parents formed a small cheering squad for the first round, but it was just a modest thing where they cheered for their children on the spot, with no bells and whistles or anything else. The huge cheering party that newly appeared completely swallowed that up, sounding their megaphones loudly and as for his relatives, they were shouting in voices that couldn’t be called refined.

“…That’s Grandpa’s writing.”

On a pure-white cloth, the words “Monshiro Middle School Boys’ Volleyball Team” were written in bold, stirring letters like a rampaging dragon in all black ink. Come to think of it, when he went out this morning, his mother was in a hurry making phone calls to here and there. It would have been better if his family had just come here modestly instead of taking the time to organize something like that and be late for the first round.

The other one, “Spread your wings! Kuroba UNIVERSE!”, had a black background and decorated with sparkly gold tinsel, and it was a lot more lowbrow than his grandfather’s single brush stroke. Right above where that deathly embarrassing flag—which he thought of as more like harassment—was hanging, he saw Itoko shouting into a huge megaphone. …If she had the time to prepare that, she could have come for the first round. You should have seen that really nice back-row attack in the first round.

Yorimichi…didn’t seem to have come. He couldn’t spot him as far as he could see. He was sure he would have heard that there was a game today through Itoko.  

“Oh, Haijima, your grandma came. I wonder if my mom also invited her.”

He tugged on Haijima’s uniform and whispered that into his ear. “Huh…” Haijima didn’t look all that happy as he looked up at the stands, straining his eyes as a wrinkle formed between his brows.

“Can’t see her.”

“Right there. She’s above ‘team.’”

“Even with contacts, my eyes aren’t as good as yours. It’s fine.”

He immediately gave up and returned his eyes to the court.

“Concentrate, Kuroba.”

He said in a low tone. He can see Haijima’s consciousness narrowing and condensing. As though saying that the world he needed only existed inside that nine-by-eighteen-meter court, he raised his awareness by shutting out outside gazes and cheers. He could feel that the power of his concentration that made his skin tingle just by being next to him.

“Y-Yeah. Got it.”

Kuroba responded vigorously with all his might, but even if he took his eyes off the stands, he couldn’t get rid of the feeling of being surrounded his relatives’ faces, faces, faces from 360 degrees.

The rotation started with Haijima on the right back as the server and Kuroba “diagonal” to him on the left front. The rotation was made so that Haijima, who was strong at serving, got to serve as much as possible, and either one of the tall Kuroba and Haijima was always in the front row. There were six people, so there were three pairs of players connected by diagonal lines, and one’s partner was called one’s “diagonal.” The diagonal relationship was always maintained even when the rotation moved. However, when he became absentminded, he sometimes lost track of his current position, which was quite confusing.

Back-row players weren’t allowed to jump up to block, and they could only spike by doing a back-row attack from behind the attack line (the line three meters from the net).

As though saying that victory went to the one who made the first move, Haijima smashed in a jump serve with all his might from the very beginning. A jump serve was hit with a lot of force, and consequently had a high risk of error. In practice games, Haijima used a low-risk jump float serve, but right when he wondered what he was going to do in the official match today, he was actively using a jump serve.

Regrettably, it went behind the end line and was out, giving their opponent their first point, but the air in the opposing court was frozen for a moment.

“Don’t worry about it!”

His teammates called out to him, but Haijima didn’t seem to care about the mistake in the first place and unashamedly responded lightly with one hand, staring over the net with a brazen expression as though that was his substitute for a greeting. Even though it didn’t result in a point, he had successfully planted the seed of fear in them that made them think, “What would happen if that had gone in?”—Their amount of experience was different by one or two orders of magnitude. And more than anything, the fearsomeness of Haijima was that he had such nerves of steel.

Haijima was making the game in a literal sense. As a setter, he didn’t just set up his teammates’ offensive, but also controlled the mood in the opponent’s court. He of course knew that the difference between their amounts of experience couldn’t be filled in overnight, but he felt strangely impatient.

He felt like it took an awfully long time for his own first serve order to come around. He impatiently waited for the rotation to move, and when he went down into the service zone and was about to receive the ball,

“…ba! Kuroba!”

Haijima’s voice burst into his ear, and he jumped. He was so out of it that he didn’t hear him, as though there was a membrane around his head. He looked and saw Haijima pointing to the right position of the front row with an unusually anxious look on his face.

The color drained out of his face. The rotation was wrong. He was in the front row for one more time. Nagato, who was in the original service order, was standing confused in a halfway place.

“S-sorry.”

“No, it’s my fault too. I thought I got it wrong when Yuni moved back…”

He talked to Nagato and hurried back to his defensive position. Haijima was about to go to him to say something, but the whistle prompting Nagato to serve sounded. The cheering squad was noisy in the stands, probably because they didn’t understand why the server was suddenly changed.

Something’s wrong…I can hear the voices from the stands well, but the voices on the court are distant. He almost felt like he was standing in the bleachers right now, not on the court.

He felt the rotation was moving quickly, contrary to earlier. His sense of time wasn’t stable. The wrong service order came around this time, and he ran to the serve zone and received the ball. He stood facing the net and took a deep breath to try to calm down, but couldn’t breathe in deeply.

Haijima’s first jump serve suddenly replayed in his mind. Kuroba also practiced the jump serve. He was getting able to hit the ball squarely more and more, and practice could be exhilarating sometimes. It would no doubt feel good to carry out that kind of thing successfully in a game. He would be able to show the cheering squad his good points, but of course his accuracy was not yet usable, so he made sure to do a jump float serve as usual…

Huh? Which foot do I usually step forward with? What’s the timing for the toss? What’s ‘usual’?

His usual way of doing things had completely slipped out of his mind.

Beep—.

The whistle sounded.

He didn’t immediately understand what the signal meant. Something was wrong. His own court was in a panic. After the referee showed the opposing team’s score, he made an “8” sign with his fingers.

An eight second violation!?

The spectators were buzzing once again about the point loss that was difficult to understand to the layman’s eye. If you didn’t serve within eight seconds after the whistle sounded, your opponent scored. It wasn’t like he didn’t hear the first whistle. And yet, he himself had absolutely no idea why he made such a basic mistake.

Haijima made a hand gesture towards the bench, and the advisor, who received it, hurriedly requested a timeout.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

“You’re nervous, aren’t you.”

Haijima poked him above his heart with his fist. He didn’t seem angry, but he was definitely fed up. A series of careless mistakes that had nothing to do with the play itself.

“Do you have stage fright or something?”

“Ugh… I’ve never really been in a situation where I’ve gotten stage fright, so I don’t know.”

Was he nervous? He was aware that he was overly concerned with unnecessary things. During the first round, he was able to see the court so well and concentrate on his own task. He knew what he should do without thinking about it and his body moved. It was as if he was being made use of by being incorporated as a part of the organic matter that was the game Haijima finished weaving. He wasn’t displeased with that at all; rather, he felt euphoric. And yet, after they entered the second round, that feeling suddenly stopped, his field of vision abruptly narrowed, and only the voices in his mind increased.

Haijima sighed at him.

“Write down ‘people’ and swallow it.” (2)

“Can’t, can’t you give better advice?”

“I’ve never been nervous. I could tell you all about play, though.”

He felt like he was being shown the disparity between them again. “Can’t be helped, Yuni. If that many of my relatives came, I’d get nervous too. Don’t worry about mistakes.” Though everyone else encouraged him, the sigh Haijima alone had given him weighed heavily on him.

The thirty second timeout went by in the blink of an eye. In the end, he noisily dashed back to the court without putting his feelings in order.

Anyways, there was nothing to do but to recover from here. Right when he moved back to the rear, he immediately got a gesture for a pipe attack from Haijima. It was a fast back-row attack from the middle using the center’s A-quick as a decoy, which was the source of their points in the first round. The shocked face of the opposing blocker who was drawn in by the decoy and jumped at it when he jumped in from over the center’s head was so satisfying—.

“!?”

This time he kept blocking. The do-or-die expression of the opposing blocker appeared from the other side of the net that was like a towering wall, blocking the course. How—!? The ball crashed straight onto the block and was knocked down onto his own side. While falling on his behind from the excess momentum, words such as “What?” came out of his mouth.

As he let his mind wander for a moment and stared at the opposing court, where there were fervent roars, from beneath the net, his teammate was held out in front of him. After he borrowed that hand and stood up, he reflexively drew back his hand when he saw that it was Haijima.

“Sorry.”

An apology slipped out of his mouth. For what? Getting blocked? Drawing back his hand?

“It’s fine. There was no helping that. They’ve already guessed that you’re the only one who could hit it properly. We should have marked them thoroughly.”

Haijima seemed to have accepted the former’s apology. His eyes never left the opponent’s court, where they were exchanging high-fives and celebrating, and spoke quickly. If the only decent hitter was Kuroba, and he was marked for it…then what were they going to do?

Haijima gave him a sharp side glance. He looked fed up again.

“I told you not to let it show on your face… Shake off the guy blocking you as much as possible. However, don’t think you’re not being marked, stay calm and watch the block. I told you about straight and cross. They’re not at a level where you can’t get rid of them.”

Well, from Haijima’s level, middle school volleyball in a rural prefecture like this would seem like a piece of cake. The prefectural finals in a place like this was probably the same size as a subdivision preliminary in Tokyo. It was no consolation for him, as it only deepened his inferiority complex.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Haijima scattered his sets to other attackers, but Kuroba always had a block on him whether he hit or not. The opponent seemed to think that as long as Kuroba was suppressed, the rest of the team couldn’t hit too hard, so they could respond with receives. Unfortunately, it was an effective strategy.

Although the team was able to score some modest points with Haijima’s skillful direction, they still were unable to score consecutively due to the lack of a decisive blow. The seesaw game where stress accumulated continued. No, in terms of overall team morale, the flow was completely on the other side. There were more and more situations where the receives were so disordered that even Haijima had trouble covering them, and when he couldn’t get the set, the rest of the team couldn’t do anything.

Far from regaining his composure, Kuroba was experiencing the sensation of gears steadily becoming less and less aligned. Even though his mind was panicking, his body wouldn’t work together with it. It was like his head and body were doing on their own thing on this side and the other side of the court. While his spike success rate had decreased, moreover, at the beginning there were many times where he would slam the ball into a block and get shut-out, and it became noticeable that he was making the mistake of getting it caught in the net himself, let alone hitting the ball into the blocking.

“Just stop looking at the blocks. It’s better not to. Don’t think about avoiding them, just hit it where it’s easy to hit.”

Haijima pulled on his uniform and whispered that, but he was only extra confused by the change in instructions. Didn’t he say “Watch their blocks” earlier?

Did my jump power go down? Aren’t my legs getting tired? The instant he realized that this is what it was to play two games in a day, his body suddenly became heavy. Are my knees okay? Don’t I feel more burdened than usual? He suddenly started to worry about the growing pains that should have been unrelated to this. What if that thing that hurts so much I couldn’t sleep at night hits me during the match? What do I do? What do I do? What do I do——?

Haijima was saying something from his diagonal position to him. But he couldn’t hear his voice. He could probably hear him physically, but his heart was blocking his ears. Listening to Haijima’s just reasonings now was of no use whatsoever.

Do you, who's completely disconnected from nervousness or agitation, have the words that I want, the words that will help me? I don’t think so.

He didn’t remember at what point—Haijima turned away with a look of resignation on his face. Ah, if Haijima has given up, then this was already a complete loss, he thought.

For some reason, only a small click of his tongue and the word “useless” reached his ears without being cut off.

***

“Get in line, Yuni.”

It was only when Nagato called out to him that he realized that the game was over. A smattering of applause came down from the stands. When he absentmindedly looked at the score board that was still standing on the court, he saw that the set count was 2-0, and the winner—Monshiro Middle School.

…Wait, what? Did something…happen…? I have almost no memory of touching the ball…

Even when he looked over the faces of his teammates standing in a line along the end line, he didn’t actually feel like they had won at all. Were these really the faces of a winning team? The atmosphere was not as merry as it had been when they won the first round, and everyone looked somewhat apathetic and subdued. And maybe it was just his imagination, but the applause from the stands seemed like it was just done out of politeness.

When he was about to line up next to Haijima, who was standing there with his expression erased, he recalled it along with the flashbacks of some scenes—it was all Haijima's doing.

Haijima’s play changed after that tongue click and badmouthing.

The jump serve was of course incredible, but Haijima’s original domain was at the net. At the net, the control of the ball was not passed over to anyone—neither opponents nor even his own teammates. Rather than entrusting the set to the attacker, the cases where he hit the ball by himself by performing dumps increased dramatically. A dump was a surprise attack where the setter pretended to set the ball and returned it to the opponent’s court with their left hand, but the power of the dump released from the left hand of the ambidextrous Haijima was not confined to the level of a surprise attack. He smashed it into the opposing court with the same power as an attacker spiking with all of their strength. It should have temporarily made the opponents agitated and close the score gap considerably.

However, it was from there that Haijima showed his demon-like true power. When the opponent marked his dumps and started to block it, he switched from hitting hard to deliberately hitting the ball lightly at the head of the block where they jumped with power in preparation for a strong hit to make it drop to his own side. He pulled off the feat of getting down low to pick up the rebound that gently dropped down without a moment’s delay and swinging it to a nearby teammate with an underhand pass and the instructions “Give it to me!” This time, he used his right hand to smash the ball that was set to him by his panicking teammate into the opponent’s side.

The venue was stunned by the powerful spike that was on par with an attacker’s, or even stronger than an average attacker’s (3), and even the referee’s whistle was a beat late.

How was he able to do that…? It was technical, but more than that, what kind of nerves did he had that enabled him to play in a way that overturned the foundation of team sports like that in front of people?

To be honest, Haijima, you’re…disgusting.

When he heard “Thank you,” he hurriedly matched them in a small voice and bowed. For an instant, he felt as if the shadow of Haijima standing next to him broke out of its human shell and swelled up into a warped shape, and a shiver ran down his spine.

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[strawberriestyles]

Chapter 12

(Banner made by sweet sunshine @harry-nofookingway-styles​)

Harry X OFC (AU)

Sequel to Brutality: In which Melody and Harry must relearn how to navigate one another among a flurry of changes.

Read previous parts here.

Author’s note: HI BUBS. I only have like a week of chapters left BUT I AM WRITING FEVERISHLY SO THERE IS HOPE. I hope y’all are still enjoying this story! Let me know in an ask. ;) And when you’re finished, read through this doc to see what you can do to continue helping the BLM cause.

“Sorry, sorry. I can’ feel my arm, love.”

Melody groaned as Harry shifted out from beneath her, and she immediately regretted it. Her breath stalled in her throat. Pain radiated through her side, fresh and loud.

“Yeh okay?”

Melody inhaled slowly, cautiously, and shook her head. Her fingers laced together over her belly, just beneath her ribcage, as if she could somehow press the throbbing right out of her torso.

“All right.”

Melody felt Harry’s lips flutter at her temple and then the bed shifted, his warmth receding from her skin.

“Here, Mel. Sit up.” He slid a hand beneath her neck and helped her lift her shoulders from the mattress. The shift of her muscles stung, laboring her breathing, until she was upright. She heard him twist open the bottle of her pills and shake a couple into his hand. “Take these, okay?” he said, passing her the glass of water on the nightstand.

Melody swallowed the pills with a large gulp of water and then handed the glass back to Harry. There were a few quiet moments, nothing but her breaths filling the silence.

“What do yeh want?” Harry asked eventually. "Wanna lay back down?”

“Please,” Melody whispered. She hissed in pain as he helped her slide down onto her back, resting her head on her pillow. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed against a groan.

“Wish I could fix it, love,” Harry said, pressing his mouth to her shoulder. He planted a row of kisses to the base of her throat. “Wish I could make it better.”

“Harry,” she muttered, “why are you kissing me? I never even showered last night.”

“I don’ care.” He reached up to smooth hair away from her eyes and watched them flutter open to look at him. Her tongue peeked out to wet her lips. She still looked dazed with sleep, her eyelids heavy, but there was something in the way she watched him—some vulnerability that made his stomach drop, but also made his skin light up. He hummed, lowering his eyes and turning his face into the top of her chest. “Stop lookin’ at me like that,” he mumbled.

“Like what?”

“I dunno, like...like ‘m saying somethin’ important. Just don’ mind if yeh’re sweaty. Do yeh mind it when I am?”

“No.” Her voice sounded thick and he listened to her clear her throat, one hand rising to sift through his hair. “No, sometimes I even like it.”

“Do mind my mornin’ breath though, yeah?”

“I wouldn’t right now,” Melody whispered.

Harry drew in a breath and felt her shudder as his teeth grazed along her collarbone. He couldn’t help the perplexed chuckle that vibrated through him.

“Dunno how this is turnin’ you on. All I did was kiss your neck and tell yeh I don’ mind your sweat. ‘S that easy?”

“That has nothing to do with it. I just—” Her fingers tightened in his hair and her other hand reached for his shoulder, pulling at him.

Harry groaned, resisting the pull. “What’re yeh doin’?”

“Come here.”

“Mel,” he said, lifting up to look at her, “‘m not climbin’ on top of yeh. Could hurt yeh.”

“I don’t care.”

“Yeh’ll care when yeh’re fuckin’ cryin’ again.” Despite his refusal, his fingers pried at the duvet, folding the top down beneath her breasts. He lowered his head to close his lips around a bit of her flesh. “No, love,” he uttered between kisses.

“Then you’ll be careful. Please.” She tugged her lip between her teeth and made a tremendous effort not to gasp as his tongue lolled over her nipple. Her eyes closed again. Harry sucked unabashedly at her and she shivered, tightening her fist even more in his hair.

“I can barely move,” she whispered, “but I want you. And you can be on top again.”

“Yeh want that?” Harry asked as he pulled off of her breast with a harsh pop. He shifted until his face loomed above her and she had to blink at the sun shining against his hair. “Did yeh miss it?”

“Yes.”

“So, it did bother you.”

“No,” she said firmly. “No, it didn’t. Harry, I don’t care if—just—” She let out an anguished sound of frustration. “Please.”

Harry sighed, planting his elbow beside her head and propping his cheek in his palm. “Why don’ I just use my fingers, love?” he asked. “Then—”

“No,” Melody pleaded, “no, please. Harry, I want you to fuck me.”

Harry sucked in a sharp intake of air, eyes wandering her face, and then tucked himself into her neck. “Oh, tha’s not fair,” he muttered.

“What?”

“Yeh say stuff like that and ‘s like I lose my ability to fuckin’ reason,” he complained. “‘S like ‘m drunk or somethin’. Yeh’re takin’ advantage of me, Mel.”

She let out a small bursting laugh and then coiled up tight beneath him. “No, no!” she hissed. “No, don’t make me laugh.”

“‘M sorry,” Harry mumbled, kissing tenderly at the spot below her ear. She was silent for a moment, recovering, before she gave his hair a yank hard enough to draw a guttural moan from him.

“Don’t tell me,” she spoke softly. “Show me.”

Harry shook his head against her skin and then shifted to peer down at her once again. “Tenacious, hm?” His fingers wrestled with the thin hair sticking to her cheek, smoothing the strands out of her face as he tried once more to reinforce his resolve. It was no use. “You tell me if I hurt yeh,” he said, his voice hard and imploring. “Don’ just let me keep goin’ if yeh’re in pain.”

“I will,” Melody assured him, nearly breathless. “I’ll tell you.” Her hand pulled at his shoulder again, more insistent this time, and he finally rolled until his hips pressed against hers through the duvet. He held his torso up with an elbow planted on either side of her, nervous to even brush her stomach.

“You might not mind mornin’ breath, but ‘m not kissin’ yeh on the mouth.”

Melody’s brows knitted together in indignation. “I—” Her lips snapped closed as Harry’s hips rolled against her.

“What?”

Melody caught her bottom lip between her teeth and Harry almost regretted his statement, wishing that he could feel her mouth on his.

“Nothing,” she muttered.

“Nothin’?” Harry rubbed himself against her again and felt himself growing harder beneath his briefs as she sighed. “Sayin’ a lot less than yeh were a minute ago.”

“Harry,” Melody breathed, “it’s hot under here. Please.”

He tugged the duvet further down her torso, until it was bunched at her hips, and then froze. 

“Mel,” Harry whispered, reeling back onto his knees. Nausea roiled through his belly, even as she caught at his hand to keep him from widening the distance between them. “Oh, baby.”

That pet name came up so infrequently, and so instinctually. It usually worked butterflies up in Melody’s gut, but now it only made her heart sink. Harry was staring down at her ribs, his brows drawn low and his lips pressed impossibly tight together. His gaze didn’t waver as she squeezed at his hand.

“I’m okay.”

“Yeh’re not,” he said fiercely, the concern in his face shifting to a simmering rage as he peered up at her. “Yeh’re not okay. Yeh can’ even fuckin’—oh, God.” He shook his head and looked up, through the windows above the bed, his pupils unfocused.

Melody took the opportunity to carefully glance down at her abdomen and immediately regretted it. The skin was dark and discolored, an ugly, dirty watercolor splashed across her ribcage. She looked away and blinked up at the ceiling.

“Harry,” she said softly, after a brief pause. “It looks bad. I know that.”

“Mel, it doesn’ just look bad. It looks—” He cut himself off and raked his free hand through his hair, sighing again. “How many fuckin’ times did she hit yeh there?”

Melody clutched his fingers tighter. “A few,” she murmured.

Harry growled in the back of his throat. “Don’ ever tell me her name,” he said. "I’ve never laid a finger on a girl but Jesus Christ… I mean it.”

Glancing down at her discolored skin, Harry felt his stomach roll again. He moved toward the edge of the bed, trying to free his hand from Melody’s, but her grip only tightened, and she sobbed as his movements jerked her arm, stretching her bruised side.

“Jesus.” He tried desperately to unwind their hands again and grunted when her hold remained. “Melody, let go of me!” he hissed.

“No,” she choked out, trying to recover her breath without gasping. "Come back.”

“Yeh really think ‘m gonna—”

“Maybe it doesn’t make sense, Harry,” she began, relaxing her muscles when he stopped trying to pull away, biting her lip against the dull ache still lingering in her ribs. "But this hurts and I want to feel good. I want you to make me feel good. Please.”

Harry lifted his eyes toward the ceiling, sighing once more. It did make sense. Just like that first night that he kissed her, when he’d been sore and swollen, and the feel of her lips had made him forget that he’d even been injured.

He lifted her hand gently to his lips and kissed her knuckles, then turned her wrist to kiss her open palm. Her fingertips tickled the side of his jaw.

“Come back,” she whispered.

Harry hesitated for just a short moment before shifting across the mattress on his knees, careful not to jostle Melody too much. He let go of her wrist when he had a knee on either side of her hips. “Love, are yeh sure?”

“Positive.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, rolling the covers over her hips, shuffling until they were bunched up at the end of the mattress. He splayed his hands out over her shins, drawing them up past her knees, thumbing at her thighs.

Melody shivered as Harry’s fingers brushed the hem of her panties. He leaned down, forehead to her belly, open mouth to her hip. Kissing her other hip, he shimmied her underwear out from beneath her, tugging them down her legs. He leaned back to remove them, careful as he lifted each of her feet until she was completely naked. Then he peeled out of his boxers and lowered his body, nesting his hips between her thighs.

“What I said still goes,” Harry muttered into her shoulder. He ground forward, his length sliding between her folds, and groaned.

Melody sounded breathless already. “What?”

“Tell me if I hurt yeh. Promise me.”

“I promise,” she murmured. She ran her nails up his side and moaned when he sucked on her neck. His forearm rested on her hip as he reached for his cock, rubbing the tip around her entrance and over her clit. Her legs fell farther apart, knees crooking up on either side of him to shift the angle of her hips, and then he sank into her.

Harry didn’t know how many times they’d had sex since he’d been out of the hospital, but he still hadn’t grown used to feeling her bare. It was softer and warmer and almost suffocating. And now having her under him again—this sensation was heady.

Melody sighed as Harry set himself into a steady pace, gentle and slow, very careful not to make contact with her chest. “This good, love?”

“Yes,” she whispered against his jaw.

“Don’ think Vanessa would recommend this.”

Melody smiled. “It feels good. I don’t really care what she’d recommend.”

Harry hummed, sucking a spot into her neck and drawing his teeth over the irritated skin. She whimpered, her nails biting into his side. It took all of his strength to reel himself in, to keep from fucking her the way he wanted to, from crashing their hips together with all of his pent-up energy.

“Been thinkin’ for weeks about how good it would feel when I finally got to fuck yeh,” he said, brushing his lips over the bruise forming just below her ear. He sank back into her and paused there, drawing his hips in a long circle that made her legs twitch against his sides. "Didn’ think I’d have to be so careful with yeh."

“Is that okay?” she asked, her voice a crackling mess. "Is it still…”

“Oh, tha’s not what I meant.” His lips dragged along the underside of her jaw, drawing his hips back again, grunting at the way her walls stretched around him as he rocked forward. “Of course ’s okay,” he murmured. “Always feel so good, Mel. Feel so fuckin’ good.”

Melody’s fingers closed around his bicep, heat rising in her belly as Harry’s thrusts sped, still gentle, still steady. He twisted his arm out of her hold and caught her hand, lacing his fingers with hers, pressing them into the pillow above her head.

Melody gasped. Her nails curled into his hip, her other hand stretching out beneath his as she mumbled an “Ow.”

Harry straightened out the arm he was using for balance, rising up to see her face. “What?” he asked urgently.

“Can’t lift my arm that high,” she whispered, her face contorted, stretching her hand beneath his again. Harry dragged their entwined fingers off of the pillow, settling them back near her shoulder. He watched the way her face smoothed, the tense lines fleeing. She blinked up at him when the stretch in her side receded.

“Hey,” he murmured. “Do yeh—“

“No, don’t stop,” she rushed. “Harry, don’t.”

“Mel, yeh—“

“Please,” she begged. Her fingers tightened like a vise around his hand, her thighs squeezing his hips. “Please, I’m close. Don’t stop.”

Harry sighed, nudging Melody’s face to the side as he forced himself to pick up an even pace again, burying his cock into her with every controlled thrust. “C’mon, love,” he coaxed, lips tickling her ear. “Let me feel it.”

Her knuckles folded up into a fist, bumping against his spine as she tried to pull him closer. Harry didn’t let go of her other hand as he switched the arm supporting his weight, sliding his empty fingers between their bodies. He found her clit, rubbing feverishly to push her closer to the edge, desperate to give her the release she was searching for.

Melody used tremendous effort to keep from bucking up against his hand. She knew it would only irritate her injury. The ache in her belly was beginning to unspool, sending waves of tension down her legs, forcing them even tighter around him. She moaned when he shifted his wrist to change the angle of his hand, pressing even harder against her bundle of nerves, his hips never slowing. He was huffing into her ear, sweat smearing between his cheek and the corner of her jaw.

“Harry, I—” She clamped her lips shut to keep from gasping as her orgasm washed over her, skin tingling, muscles spasming, Harry’s breath still in her ear.

“Yes, tha’s it,” he moaned, losing the uniformity of his thrusts as he felt her squeezing him. “Fuck. So good for me. Christ. Mel.” He pulled his hand from between them, throwing it out to catch his weight as he surged forward, chasing his own high. Melody let out a breathy whine, uncurling her fist and raking her nails across his lower back. His orgasm hit him all at once. His hips stuttered as he came, his arms shaking from the effort of holding himself up.

“Mel,” he murmured again as he finished, struggling to keep himself from collapsing on top of her. He pulled out with a tired sigh and rolled to the side, releasing her hand, pressing his cheek into his pillow.

Melody’s eyes were closed, her lips parted. If it weren’t for her uneven breathing, Harry thought she could’ve been asleep. He smiled lazily, teaching up to trace the curve of her nose, whispering, “All right?”

“Mhmm,” she hummed in response.

“Yeh know, yeh’re gettin’ kinda demanding,” he observed with a quiet chuckle, drawing his fingertip across her lips. “Didn’ know yeh were so grabby.”

“Are you complaining?” she asked, raising a brow.

“Fuck no.”

Melody jolted out a snort and then her eyes flew open. “Oh, God,” she muttered, hissing in pain. “I said don’t make me laugh.”

“Not my fault yeh think everythin’s funny,” Harry said, but he reached for her, smoothing his hand over her stomach. “Are yeh okay?”

“It’s not as intense,” she whispered.

“Mmm. Meds kickin’ in?”

“No,” she answered, shaking her head. She twisted her neck to look at him. “I think it’s because the rest of my body feels good.”

“That so?” Harry couldn’t help the smirk that found its way onto his lips. He leaned in to press a kiss to her shoulder, his hand slithering down over her pubic bone to press his fingers to her clit again.

“Oh God, stop!” Melody breathed, reaching for his wrist, her legs quivering at how sensitive she was. “No, I have—I’m gonna make a mess.” She felt her cheeks warm and drew her gaze away from him.

Harry’s smirk didn’t falter, but he stilled his hand. “Is that supposed to make me wanna stop?”

“I’m serious. I need to get up. The sheets—”

“Can wash the fuckin’ sheets, Mel.”

“No.” She shook her head for emphasis, pressing her legs together. “I’m—no.”

“Okay, love,” Harry murmured, drawing his hand back and placing it on her belly once more. “Okay. Just wanted to ease the pain some more.”

“You already did. I don’t need it.”

He pressed another kiss to her shoulder and then sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, combing through his hair. His fingers pressed into his eyes, rubbing away the sleep still lingering. Then he stared across the room.

“Are yeh gonna keep fighting when that heals?”

Melody’s eyes found his back—the familiar space between his shoulder blades, the curve of his spine as he leaned forward, the red trails where her fingernails had slid over his skin. She drew in a breath, not quite deep enough to expand her ribs past the point of comfort. “Yes.”

“Why?” He twisted his neck, looking down at the sheets, so that Melody was in his periphery.

“I need you to understand that I started doing this for you, okay?” she began.

“Tha’s exactly—“

“And I know that you hate that,” she continued. “It makes you angry. You feel like it’s your fault I’m in this position. But I want to be here, Harry. If I didn’t want to do any of this, I wouldn’t.”

“You want bruised fuckin’ ribs and dirty money.” He hadn’t realized she knew exactly why this entire situation made him so uncomfortable. They’d never had a full conversation about it because one of them always got too pissed to keep talking. And the fact that she knew almost made him angrier.

“I’m not finished paying your bills,” she said.

Harry scoffed. “Fuck it. I’ll pay ‘em myself.”

“How?” she demanded. "Selling guns again?”

“If I fuckin’ have to,” Harry snapped. "But ‘m almost done with therapy, right? Once I get back in the ring it shouldn’ matter. Just stop.”

Melody recoiled, turning her eyes onto the ceiling. She wasn’t ready to broach this subject. Not now. “I need to go to the bathroom,” she murmured.

A beat passed before Harry turned around, snaking an arm beneath her neck and helping her to sit up again. Air hissed between her teeth as he pulled her toward the side of the mattress, until her feet could touch the floor.

“Can yeh walk?” he asked quietly.

She nodded. He leaned forward, sorting through the clothes they’d carelessly discarded the night before until he found the shirt he’d been wearing. He helped her into it, gently, and then she pushed herself up to stand before she could think too hard about how much it might hurt, biting her tongue to keep from wincing.

She could walk fine, as long as she was conscious of the way her torso moved with every step, and she was into the bathroom and back in only a few minutes. But when she returned, Harry was kneeling beside the bed, face-down on the mattress, his hands in his hair.

“Harry?”

The muscles in his back coiled tighter at the sound of her voice. But he didn’t move. And he didn’t speak.

“Harry,” she said again, taking a step closer to him. “What’s going on?”

His face turned toward her, hair obscuring his eyes but his mouth visible as he muttered, “Need those pills.”

“Are you—“

“Fuck!” he shouted. Melody jumped and then pressed a hand into her stomach, just beneath her injured rib, breathing shallowly. “Get me the pills, Mel. Please.”

“Okay,” she said. “Okay, I’m getting them.” She turned toward the dresser, fumbling through the items atop it until she found the bottle of meds she’d picked up from the pharmacy months ago. Harry hadn’t taken a single pill since he’d been out of the hospital. Now, Melody shook two into her palm, not bothering to close the container as she set it down, and rushed back across the room.

“Fuck,” she muttered. “I have to get water.” Harry made an aggravated sound. His hand shot out, palm open. Melody’s frown deepened, but she dropped the pills into his hand and he popped them into his mouth, swallowing them dry. Then he turned his face into the mattress again, lacing his fingers back into his hair.

Melody hovered, unsure. She knew when he’d been discharged that this was a very real possibility, that he might have days like this, but the months without an incident had made her comfortable and optimistic. Seeing him like this, almost unreachable, it made her nauseous. She hesitated, but eventually laid her hand on his shoulder, sliding it across his skin, stroking the back of his neck.

“No,” he grumbled. “No, get off.”

She snatched her hand back, stepping to the side to give him some space. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know—what do you want me to do? Do you want me to leave you alone?”

His hair shook as he nodded. She pressed her lips together, watching him for another moment, his back heaving with his breaths, and then she turned toward the door. She hadn’t reached the next room when Harry spoke again.

“Wait, no,” he called, his voice ragged. “Come back. ‘M sorry.”

Melody retraced her steps, shaking her head, although he wasn’t looking at her. “Don’t be. What can I do?”

He was quiet again. She watched his fingers sift through his hair.

“Harry, what?” she asked again. “Want me to hold you?”

One of his hands slipped down to his neck as he twisted his head, glancing up at her through his hair. He looked so bashful, so child-like as he nodded, like he expected her to refuse. She stepped around him, so that her uninjured side was closest to him, sinking unceremoniously onto the floor. Her ribs protested, but she bit back a groan and rested the back of her head against the edge of the mattress.

“Come here,” she whispered.

Harry shuffled a few inches closer to her on his knees. She wrapped her arm around his middle, pressing herself to his side, and a moment later he was melting into her, dropping his hands into his lap and settling his forehead against her shoulder. Melody closed her eyes and lifted her hand to work her fingers through his hair, listening to his labored breathing.

“Hey, do you guys—oh.” Bea stood frozen in the doorway, surveying the scene. Melody hadn’t even realized she was still in the apartment. She felt her skin flush as she tried to remember if she and Harry had made too much noise. “Uh, is he okay?”

Melody opened her eyes and gave a subtle shake of her head. She bit her lip as his breath caught, his body stiffening.

“Okay,” Bea said. “Never mind. Do you need anything? Either of you?”

“No, thank you,” Melody whispered.

“I’m going to study on campus. I’ll see you later.” Bea took a step backward and cocked her head to the side, adding, “Feel better, Harry,” and then disappearing. The door to the flat closed a minute later.

Harry grunted against Melody’s shoulder, drawing in a long breath. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I—yeh don’ have to stay here—”

“Harry, shut up.” Melody pressed a soft kiss to his temple. “I’m not moving.”

The minutes ticked by, neither of them murmuring another word. Harry let Melody stroke his hair and trace his spine until the medicine began to dull the splitting ache in his head, and then he continued to sit there, breathing in the scent of her skin, listening to the silence until he somehow fell into sleep.

Chapter 13

[denotday]

My headcannon for Loki

Author's note: I dislike that plotline of Loki being in love with Sylvie. I'd greatly prefer for Loki to have a friendship blossom with Sylvie which then opens him up to a casual relationship with one or two people. In the end, I think that this relationship will lead to Loki becoming father material. This is intended to be a romance, not a loki x reader fic.

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Chapter one:

"Oh that explains it. You were having romantic feelings for Sylvie. Of couse an event like such would trigger a Nexus-level event. How on brand! You falling in love with yourself, such a narcissist!"

Mobius was rude to say that. Loki may be a narcissist, but to insinuate that he had romantic feelings for Sylvie is a grave mistake. I mean, from Loki's point of view, he can understand how that female acquaintance could develope such lust for a person with his visage, but for Loki to reciprocate those sexual, human tendencies? That'd be absurd! Who does Mobius think Loki is? THOR? Psh, He could assure you himself that he's NOTHING like that human-dwelling, beard-stubbled hero who lusts for those of the likes of that Jane person. There'd be no honor in slumming it with Sylvie in a romantic way, anyway.

"Sylvie, this is pretty new to me, but I have to tell you that I-----"

Have feelings for you? Want to bear your children (however that would work)? Desire to pursue a sexual fantasy with you involving you wearing hooves and authentic deer antlers? A weird fetish for Loki to have, yes, but the point still stands. Though Loki does have feelings for his Sylvie, none of those feelings are sexual. Anything but.

"......wonder if you'd consider me to a friend of yours." Right on the nose. How curious. A GOD to have feelings for one who is cruel and lacking in social skills? Never! But a friendship with a person who'd allow him to come out of his own shell and pursue a path of inner discovery? Yes. Dear reader, viewer, whoever the hell you are. As one who lives in the mind of THE God of Mischief (side note: MARVEL's God of Mischief), I can assure you that Loki doesn't care about anyone but himself.

"Mmmh HMM."

All right, Fine. What I meant to say was that Loki has high self esteem for himself and values all of his faculties. Adding sexual attraction to this mix would just complicate his inner mechanisms.

"They're right. This genderless voice in my head. I----actually don't know who you are. I should kill you for trespassing, shouldn't I?"

Hhhhhh. Moving on.....After Loki was pruned by the TVA, he later met up with Syvlie when she travelled to that realm by getting herself pruned.

But here is where stories diverge.

With Mobius travelling back to the TVA, Sylvie and Loki share a few friendly moments catching up with eachother. A promise was made by Sylvie to stick with Loki and allow him to accompany her on her mission to destroy the TVA; but at last minute, when faced with the doom of impending mortal death, there was a change of heart.

There were two sets of footsteps and two sets of feet scraping at dirt, until it all came to a halt. ".......Loki, errr, still weird. Wish you had a different name than me. I'm thinking....I value you as a friend, and if I'm correct, friends don't get their buddies killed. So....I don't want you to come with me"

Loki pauses.

A few thoughts cross his mind briefly, "how could a friend betray me" and "I should kill this conniving quim" come to mind but beneath these thoughts, beneath this outer shell, was a feeling of sadness. The thought "I'll always be lonely, never escaping the cycle of being pushed away."

In compassion along with understanding of Loki's quietness, Sylvie slowly shifts her body to look at Loki's profile. His face is clenched and the muscles of his jaw are made tight, tighter than they usually are. The happiness that was once smeared on his face---marked with a wide smile----was gone. Loki's happy eye wrinkles also had retreated back into the tautness of his soft face. Eyes that were so dark and piercing became focused.

Until those dark eyes started to cloud over with a wetness.

"Hey. I get it. I like you too."

Loki wouldn't turn to her.

"----But, I know where this ends for me and don't want the same ending for you."

His eyes shift to Sylvie's worried face.

" You've retreated within yourself for so long that you forgot how to love. For so long, you haven't had a friendship or a person to be vulnerable with."

A sniffle now.

"And I wanted you to know that there's more to the world for you. Lokis don't have to be 'failures' or secondary characters in the story of the 'true' hero. I want-----need----you to live for both of us. Find your destiny. Live a different life, face a more positive ending than your death at the hands of the titan. Find someone, anyone, to fall in love with. And more importantly, I want you to open yourself up. Allow yourself to feel worthy of friendship."

Syvlie reaches upward to lay her hands on Loki's shoulder. She turns him gently toward her.

"Because you are the best friend that I've never had in all of my years on asgard or anywhere. You are special Loki and you possess so much personality, so much magical potential....."

Loki waits.

".....Despite being a jerk who doesn't deserve it"

The left corner of Loki's mouth picks up in a smirk. A small chuckle rises from his chest.

"This is goodbye, Loki. It is my destiny to fight this monster, discovering the secrets of the TVA. THIS is my glorious purpose and I believe that you should receive another chance at finding yours."

Although awkward, Sylvie reaches around Loki's sides for a low hug. Loki is uncomfortable with this, but in an effort to make the moment nicer, he strokes Sylvie's hair for a few minutes, even when she starts tearing up and heaving tear-ridden gasps into his chest.

"....This is a setback, I feel, Sylvie. But I understand your decision. You were the only real friend that I've had in a while." And with that, Loki steps away from her and starts to walk away in the opposite direction.

"Wait"

Loki stops.

"I still want to do one last thing for you, before I go. Here's this temppad. I want to give you a choice. You may go back to your own timeline and reset things, if you feel like these new feelings...new emotions....are too much for you. Resetting the timeline will wipe your memory of me....of our time together. Alternatively, you can choose to go back and make a different destiny for yourself. One that involves you pursuing the path of purpose and determination. Maybe you'll be your own hero for the first time. I have faith that you'll make the right decision."

Taking the temppad, Loki rushes toward Sylvie with a hug and a quick "thank you my friend."

Syvlie runs toward the belly of the beast in true Loki fashion and as she looks back, she gives Loki a salute while mouthing "glorious purpose".

Alone and in the literal dark, Loki looks down at the hands which grasp the temppad. He thinks about his impending decision; "Do I choose a destiny where I give in to mischief....ultimately leading to my demise, or shall I choose to be the person that Sylvie wanted me to be, the kind person who has a positive destiny...a good ending for once. A destiny where I don't have to be the villain anymore???"

After making his decision, Loki releases a big sigh and steps into the orange door of the temppad back into his timeline.

He's back. The tessaract slides on the floor, landing at Loki's feet. Here, he makes the choice.....the choice that settles what his "glorious purpose" will be. Amidst all of the hysteria that the hulk had created, hysteria of Avenger's Stark having a heart attack, Loki conjures a copy of the tesseract's briefcase and using his palms and fingers, reaches down to put the tessaract within the case, using magic to place it back near Avenger's Tony Stark.

Emotions take a halt as the hulk is calmed back into Bruce Banner and the Hydra agents allow Stark to recover from the brief heart attack.

Thor approaches his brother, amazed that Loki's just standing to the side, simply watching everything happening.

"What, did you think that I'd make some daring escape, brother? I thought you knew me better than that!"

There's a shine in Thor's eyes that turns into skepticism quickly; why did my brother not escape? What's his motive?

"Let's go back to Asgard, Loki"

And Loki's destiny changes for the better.