#see my reasons for favorites range. its either some deep meaning or simply Hes A Menace And Thats Horrifying But Fun To Watch

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Out of curiosity sake… have you drawn our man Marvel Ryuji- I mean Sabertooth?

i think the absolute funniest thing about this ask is i planned for my last rgg drawing To Be Of ryuji and sabertooth cause i couldnt Not think of the design similarities

evidently i never drew that so For You my friend i give you a quick vic :]

[hot-wiings]

Abuse Trigger Warning.

Leave An Ask Or Comment To Be Added To A Specific Characters Taglist.

Requested By: Wattpad User

Edited: 11-26-2020

You felt exhausted as you unlocked your front door. You had a fairly shit day, and you knew it was bound to get worse. Your shit day started with you being late to class, this wasn't the first time it happened and it resulted in detention accompanied by a phone call to your father. You couldn't be mad at the school, not really, they were just enacting the school policy. You had no one to blame but yourself.

You knew your father was fairly pissed at you, he always was. You knew the minute you opened that door he was gonna start the same old pattern. He would yell, he would get angry, he would hit you. You would either stand up for yourself and get beat worse or take it quietly and let it be over with. With a deep breath in and out you opened the door and closed it behind you quietly. You hoped that if you were quiet then you could sneak past your drunken father who spent most of his time wasted on the couch. Your hope was diminished as you saw him standing before you, semi-drunk, sober enough to walk and be cruel. Sober enough to hurt you. 

"You're finally home."

"Hey."

You barely had time to place your bag on the ground before he gripped his hand in your hair and pulled you away from the door and closer to him. 

"Don't 'hey' me, you're in so much trouble."

His hand squeezed your jaw, making him grip your cheeks hard. You knew there was going to be light bruises formed on your face later. 

"Your school called me, they said you received detention. You little shit! I'm paying for that school so you can become a hero, not so you can fool around." 

Before his words registered in your head, his hands were on your body. He slapped you, he punched you and hit you until you were on your side. On your side, he kicked you and kicked you until you begged him to stop. He didn't stop until you heard a crack and you were simply positive he broke something. All he did was grin down at you sadistically, happy he caused you such permanent pain. 

"Go to your room you worthless excuse of a hero. You're lucky I pay for that school."

You weakly pulled yourself up and limped your way upstairs to your bedroom. You closed the door before slumping yourself on the bed. You let the tears escape. A downpour of feelings on your cheeks as you tried to muffle your sobs.

You hated him so much, and you hated him even more for leaving you with this feeling. You wanted to get help, help from your teachers, help from your boyfriends, but you couldn't. He was right, you are a poor excuse of a hero. How could you ask for help when you shouldn't need it? Why didn't you defend yourself? Why didn't you ever fight back? Katsuki and Eijirou we're such strong heroes, they should be ashamed to have you as a girlfriend.

You tried to quell your sobs as your cell phone rang. You picked it up quickly, hoping your dad didn't hear it, and looked at the caller ID. Eijirou <3. You were glad he hadn't face-timed you, you didn't want him to see you in such distress, you didn't want him to see you so weak.

"Baby, what's up?"

"Hey sweetheart, I was just calling to see if you needed a ride to Katsuki's house."

"A ride..."

"Yeah, a ride. He invited us to his house for Thanksgiving, remember?"

You scowled as you pressed a hand to your swelling ribcage. You hadn't remembered, you tried not to remember the holiday as it was. Thanksgiving was a depressing time for you. It was your mother's favorite holiday. She died when you were young but you still had the distant memory of her dancing around the kitchen making a perfect holiday feast. You and your father tried to avoid it, avoid the memory.

"No, no. Of course, I remember. I'm... I don't think I need a ride."

"Are you sure...? You sound upset, are you okay?"

You bit your lip as you let another lie tumble from your lips.

"I'm fine babe, just a little cold from the weather. I'll see you and our other babe when I get there later."

"Okay... We'll be waiting with warm arms and kisses."

"I love you... Bye."

You sighed as you pulled yourself from the bed. You had to cover up these wounds, and find some advil for the pain. Maybe you even had time to take a cold shower to take down the swelling.

"Well... Now I know why you got detention. Of course, my daughter has been working herself out to multiple boys."

"I- I- I-"

"Your mother would be ashamed of you... The only reason I'm not bashing your head in now is that people would notice, but I guarantee you, I'm pulling you from that shitty school and placing you in a conversion institute."

He snatched your phone from you and place it in his pocket before leaving your room and latching the door, leaving you with no means of communication or escape. No one to call. No one to save you. You had enough. You couldn't take another minute of it. You couldn't handle the anxiety of not knowing when he would decide to beat you, the horror of waiting for him to strike you with his fist. You could bear the pain, but everyone had their limits. You wouldn't let him change you. You wouldn't let him take away Eijirou. You wouldn't let him take away Katsuki.

You frantically dove into your closet for some clothes that would cover your entire body. Your jeans dug into your bruised side but you didn't let yourself dwell on it. You found one of Katsuki's hoodies and quickly slipped it on, you needed something to cover your arms, the smell of his sulfur and cinnamon brought comfort to yourself.

You didn't give it a second thought as you slipped one leg out of the window and slowly brought out your other leg. You turned your body so it positioned you with your body facing the window and slowly lowered yourself down as far as you could reach before you jumped. You landed on your side, knocking the wind out of your lungs. You let out a string of coughs before pushing yourself up and running straight to Katsuki's house. You didn't pay attention to the pain in your chest, or the fact that it had begun to rain down on you. You just ran. 

You left a string of frantic, hard knocks on the door of the Bakugo residence. Although the Bakugou family had been expecting both you, Katsuki's girlfriend, and his boyfriend, Eijirou, that wasn't until much later in the evening. You received no answer to your knocks and as you looked in the driveway you noticed no cars. Nobody was at home.

This day reached its climax and it couldn't possibly get worse. You were all bruised up from your father, he wanted to send you to a conversion camp, you had no phone, you were soaked to the bone and the rain just turned to hail. You slid your back down against the Bakugou's door and you pulled your legs up to your chest in a bent position. You let little sobs out as you formed your body into a ball to try and create heat.

You spotted a car pull into Katsuki's driveway and you tried your best to smile and perk up. You tried your best to make it seem like your father hadn't beat the shit out of you, like your skin wasn't oozing black and green colors. You tried to make it seem like you were happy and normal.

Masaru Bakugo walked up to his front door with an umbrella in one hand and his keys in the other. There was confusion placed on his face when he saw someone balled up against his front door, but that confusion morphed into worry when he saw it was you slumped up against his door.

"[Y/N]...? Is that you? C'mon, Let's get you out of this horrendous weather."

You were quick to stand up and move to the side as Masaru fumbled with his keys and unlocked his front door. Once inside, you felt bad that you were dripping water all over their home floor. Shy and embarrassed, despite being in the Bakugo home many times, you looked at your feet and mumbled out an apology.

"I'm sorry for getting your floor dirty."

"It's fine! Let me go find you some towels and some dry clothes."

A warm feeling spread in your stomach as he walked off. You loved Masaru. Katsuki had been out to his parents for a while now, and they'd known you and Eijirou for a decent amount of that time. Masaru was so nice, so kind, and he never made you feel bad about your sexual orientation. He treated you like an addition to his family, he treated you like a daughter and it made going back to your own father hurt so much more.

Katsuki's father came back shortly with towels and some of Mitsuki's old clothes in hand. He smiled at you as he handed over the items. His smile was warm, it made you think of the small, soft moments you shared with Katsuki. Everyone said he resembled his mother, but you could see the small attributes he got from his father.

"Mitsuki took Katsuki to the store with her. They're probably gonna be there awhile knowing how stubborn they are, they're probably stuck in the stuffing aisle arguing over what brand to get. If you ever come over and we're not here you're welcome to use the spare key. It's under the rock by the azalea bush."

"Thank you, it's very nice of you."

You smiled as you took the clothes from Masaru and headed off to the bathroom. It was a pair of leggings, a tank top, and a couple of towels. As you dried off and put the fresh clothes on, you grew nervous. You could see some bruises peeking out, and there was a handprint on your arm. You just needed to get to Katsuki's room and steal one of his hoodies before Masaru got a chance to notice the bruise.

You walked out of the bathroom with your wet clothes wrapped in a towel, you tried keeping it to your arm to hide the bruises. As Masaru took your clothes it was all for naught.

"I'll put your clothes in the washer so you can take dry clothes home."

You knew he saw it. His eyes lingered for too long, and his tone changed, yet he didn't mention it. Once Masaru left to take your clothes to the washroom you made your way upstairs to Katsuki's room and slipped on one of his hoodies before going back downstairs. Unbeknownst to you, Masaru made a concerned phone call to Mitsuki while you were putting on one of Katsuki's hoodies.

"You're probably cold from being outside so I made some tea."

"Thank you."

You smiled at Masaru as you took a seat on the cream-colored sofa across from him and picked up your cup of tea. You took tiny sips as Masaru tried to word out and voice his concerns to you.

"I noticed a bruise on your forearm, how did you get it?"

The shame and embarrassment of the truth flooded your face – not to mention if you told him, then it would somehow get back to your father. He would hurt you worse. Like you've done to your teachers, and many others, you lie to your boyfriend's father.

"Oh, that? I was sparring with someone from school."

"If hypothetically, someone was hurting you, it would be okay to tell me."

"No one's hurting me."

"[Y/N]... It's not just your arm. You have bruises forming on your face, Katsuki spars and he doesn't get hurt like that. It's okay to tell me... Even if it's someone like Katsuki, I know he can get rough sometimes... I would believe you."

Masaru knew it was wrong to play into your feelings for Katsuki like that. He knew his son would never hurt you, he might have been a handful, but Masaru raised him right. Masaru needed to play into your feelings to get you to fess up on who was hurting you. Masaru reached out and grabbed your cold hands. He looked at you, practically pleading you to tell him the truth. Masaru had a way of talking to you that made you want to be honest about it and hearing him toss out Katsuki's name hurt you. You broke down, tears streaming down your face, as ugly sobs escaped you.

"No, Katsuki would never hurt me. It's--It's my dad. He can get mean sometimes, and he got really mad..."

Masaru took your teacup and placed both yours and his on the table before he pulled you in his arms as you spilled and blabbed about all your father did to you. It was so foreign to you, the feeling of being in a man's arms, a father's arms. To be held and comforted without being hurt. You couldn't remember a moment where your father held you and said everything was gonna be okay.

"He found out about my sexuality. I can't- I can't go back."

"It's okay, it's gonna be okay. You don't have to. What your father does to you is wrong. It's not right. I'm not gonna let you go back there, okay?"

"Thank you."

Your words came out in choked up sobs, but it didn't stop Masaru from keeping a tight hold on your body. It didn't stop him from rubbing comforting circles in your back, something he did for Katsuki when he was sick as a young child. Once your sobs quelled Masaru pulled away and looked at you earnestly.

"Why don't you go rest in Katsuki's bedroom. I'll send him up once Mitsuki gets home."

"Okay... Thank you, Masaru."

As you laid in Katsuki's bed you felt overwhelmed. Anxiety and dread coursed through every vein, cell, and fiber of your being. You didn't want Katsuki to come home. You didn't want to talk to him. You didn't want any confrontations. You didn't want to see the pity on his face when you told him your dad beat you, you didn't want to see the disgust on his face when he realized what a shitty hero you are.

What kind of a hero can't even protect themselves from their father?

You didn't want to have to tell him, that was if Masaru hadn't already contacted Mitsuki and Katsuki at the store. You didn't want to have the conversation you knew you would need to have once he got home. To top that off, you didn't want to tell Eijirou. How could you face him? How could you tell him that your father hurt you? He was going to beat himself up for it. He was going to be mad that he didn't protect you. You could already envision the teary-faced he'd give you, and it filled you with such dread. You never wanted to fill your partners up with such sadness. You never wanted your partners to feel such hurt due to the expense of your hand.

You weren't sure how long you lied there in Katsuki's bed. The scent of his shampoo lifted from his pillow, and the smell of his nitroglycerin filled your lungs as you laid buried in his blanket. Sometimes you would even get a whiff of Eijirou's shampoo, residue from late-night study dates, and cuddle sessions. It was all very comforting, as you laid there motionlessly. Even as you heard the door creak open, you didn't move from your spot to see who it was. Even when you felt a big, warm hand placed on your hip you didn't lookup.

"Hey." 

Once Katsuki's rough voice made contact with your ears you rolled your body over so you were on your back, groaning ever so lightly as your bruised back made contact with the mattress. Gazing up into the red eyes of your rougher lover, you tried to make your smile reach your eyes. 

"Hi, how was the store?" 

"Don't do that."

To anyone else, it would have sounded like Katsuki was being hostile, like he was being rude and gruff. You heard differently. You could hear the pain in his voice, you could hear the worry and fear laced in his rough demeanor. As Katsuki dropped to his knees and grabbed your hand you could see the way this bothered him, you could see the way he was worried and the way this tore him up. 

"My dad called my mom, don't pretend everything is fine when it's not. Don't pretend that your not hurting. Don't pretend with me."

"So he told you everything?"

"Just that my dad saw some bruises on you, said' you should tell me yourself."

You squeezed your eyes shut to prevent the tears from leaking out, to prevent the tears from falling into a downpour. Katsuki moved his other hand up to your face and cupped your cheek in his warm hand making you feel secure.

 "Just tell me. It's gonna be okay, I'll make it okay, I'll make it better."

"My dad hurts me Katsuki. He psychically hurts me, and now he knows about you and he wants to send me away." 

The tears poured out of your eyes, they streamed down your cheeks and dripped down onto your shirt as little sobs clawed their way out of your throat. Katsuki wrapped his arms around you and tugged your body close to his, with his face in the crook of your neck, he buried himself in you. If asked he would have denied it, but Katsuki let his own tears fall. 

"I'm not gonna let anyone take you from me. I won't let anyone take you from me and Eiji."

When Katsuki pulled away you felt a pain in your chest. It was sharp and strong, Katsuki barely noticed as you placed a hand on your chest. He barely noticed until you began coughing. Your little cough turned into a fit, and little bits of blood came out with each burst of air out.

"Katsu, I don't feel so good."

"Fuck, [Y/N]... It's-It's gonna be okay. It's gonna be okay. Just stay awake." 

As Katsuki scrambled to pick you up bridal style, it felt like your lungs were on fire. You were light-headed as your head rolled against his shoulder, and the last thing you registered before your head went dark was the sound of Katsuki begging you to stay awake. 

All Katsuki could do was pace the white floor in the hospital room. His hands came up and tugged at his blonde roots as angry, volatile thoughts raced through his head. He paced, and stomped around, and tugged to keep his tears at bay. He barely paid attention to the voices in the room telling him to calm down, all he heard was the heart monitor. How could they expect him to just sit? How could they expect him to be okay when you were the one in the hospital bed? 

“Katsuki, you need to sit down. Pacing and getting worked up isn't going to help.”

“I know that! Do you think I don't know that? I know it isn't going to help, I know nothing I do is going to help! I couldn't help her, that's why she's in here!”

His words came out harsh and rough. They were sharp and all Eijirou could do was frown at his hands. He knew all the emotions Katsuki was feeling. He knew them all because he was going through the same thing. You didn't tell them what was going on at home, you didn't tell them and they didn't know. They didn't know and didn't help you. They couldn't help you and now you were in the hospital. 

All Eijirou had in his head was every interaction with you, maybe if he had noticed it, noticed the signs, he could've helped. He had noticed the way you made sure you were home by a certain time. He thought you were a good girl. The way you always asked your dad for permission for things, no matter how small and minuscule. He thought you were a daddy's girl. You always wore hoodies. He assumed you liked wearing what was his. He was so wrong.

“I couldn't help her, and you couldn't help her either. It's not your fault she's in here.”

“But I should've! I should've seen the signs!”

Eijirou pulled himself up from the stiff hospital chair he was sitting on and walked over to Katsuki. He pulled Katsuki against himself and murmured sweet words into Katsuki's ear as he let him pour his heart out. He let him flurry his heart out, he let him cry. 

“I should've helped her, I should've helped her.”

“I know... I should've helped her too, but all we can do is hope she wakes up.”

It was as if a miracle happened at that moment. Amongst their crying, despite the slim chance of survival, your eyes fluttered open. They fluttered open and your hands moved out, reaching for something, for someone. Your head hurt, and the last thing you remembered was being carried away by Katsuki.

“K-Katsuki...?”

You tried pushing yourself up into a sitting position but Katsuki and Eijirou were quick to get to your side. Katsuki gently placed a hand on your shoulder, keeping you down as he had reached out for your hand. 

“Don’t move, it’ll hurt.”

“What happened?”

Eijirou pulled your hand he had gripped up to his mouth and kissed your knuckles. Your heart broke at the sad expression he gave you. It tore you up to see such pain and agony on his face. 

“Your dad... he broke your rib, and it pierced your lung. It caused you to get internal bleeding, had Katsuki not been there when you were coughing, you might not have made it.”

“You know? Who told you.”

“You passed out, you almost died! Was I not supposed to tell him, you dumbass!”

“Don’t yell at me!” 

“[Y/N]... You almost died. The doctor was barely able to fix your lung, you waking up is a miracle in itself, and you're still going to need more surgeries to fix your lung.”

You squeezed your boyfriend's hands in understanding. You had worried them. This incident wasn't like when you were eight and your dad gave you stitches, or when you were ten and he broke your arm. He almost ended your life. 

“I’m sorry... I should've told you.”

“Why didn't you? Did... Did you not trust us? We would never hurt you, we would've helped you.”

“No, I trust you. I do! It's stupid...”

“I don’t care if it's stupid, I've spent the last four hours in this goddamned hospital for you, you could at least tell us why you kept it a secret.”

You closed your eyes and tried to stop the tears from falling. You pulled your hands from theirs and buried your face in your palms. 

“I’m so fucking pathetic! That's why I hid it... I didn't want your help, because I should've been able to handle it myself. I'm supposed to be a hero, but I can't even stop my father from hurting me, it's so pathetic. I'm pathetic.”

Katsuki pulled your hand against his lips and his other hand wiped away your tears. Eijirou was quick to follow suit. They desperately wanted to pull you against themselves, to hug you tightly as if you'd disappear, but they knew it would hurt you, they knew you were still too fragile 

“You're not pathetic. You're strong, you're so strong.”

“Fuck, you're strong. You handled him by yourself for so long on your own, but you're not on your own anymore. The cops got your X-rays, between your broken ribs, and old healed bone fractures, it's enough evidence to put your father in jail for a long time.”

A smile spread across your face as Katsuki spoke his words to you. You dreamed of the words for such a long time. You dreamed of the day you no longer had to endure him. You dreamed of it, you yearned for it, and now it was here. 

“My mom and dad want you to live with us. You'll, come, right? You have to, my parents love you. I’m gonna smother you with my love, and Eiji's gonna be over every day. We're gonna take good care of you.”

“I will, I'll be over every day, and we'll watch your favorite movies, and eat your favorite food. We’ll take care of you.”

“I’ll come. I’ll come live with you Katsuki.”

“Fucking good, I need you to be close. I need you to be close and safe.”

As Katsuki kissed your forehead, Eijirou left kisses up your arm. Your fears of telling them about the abuse were far from your mind, as was your father. You were ready to start your life with your boyfriends, you were ready to move in with the Bakugo’s, a couple who would love you like a daughter, the right way. You were ready to start this peaceful chapter of your life.

[analysis-by-a-muffin]

YGO Analysis: Protagonists and Rivals, the Pivotal Relationship (Part 1)

There are a variety of relationship archetypes that come with any genre. Their importance, meanings, and depiction come with a strong and wide variety even from within their own genres or franchises. Rivalries are a constant across several media; only coming with different faces depending on the reason for the competition between two characters. Action movies, shows, etc tend to have major rivalries between the protagonist and a character that is both their opposite and their equal (whether or not they’re actually an equal truly depends on the piece of content but shhh). This relationship can be a strong driving point of plot related events, and one of the finest examples of that is the Yu-Gi-Oh franchise with its growing number of rival relationships that are distinctive in their own ways— even while they’re following a very set pattern.

General Overview

Compared to many other rivalries— in shounen works especially— there’s a lot about the way Yu-Gi-Oh goes about theirs that struck a surprising chord with me. Thankfully, each spinoff doesn’t give the viewer an exact clone of the rivalry that started it all, regardless of how popular Seto Kaiba and Pharaoh Atem are. There’s also a notable lack of anything feeling generic or far too in line with tropes, following them safely down to a T. Each one has a flavor that allows for viewers to have their own favorites which can range from cold and intense to warm and soft.

Duel Monsters crafted certain characteristics and behaviors within each dynamic.

Obsession: Each rival has a focus on the protagonist that they don’t really give to any other character. The intensity of it changes with each pair, however, and can sometimes involve stalking the main character, oftentimes thinking about them, or more mildly, simply talking about them a lot in private to someone else. Another staple to their obsessive behavior is going to absurd lengths to get the attention of the protagonist, something which they’ve displayed as a thing the rival can get pretty greedy for.

Plot Importance: If a YGO series isn’t well made or structured, the main rivalry is likely not going to be a very good one. When done spectacularly, their relationship can be what causes major events to unfold and hinge on which is par for the course with this franchise. Basically, rivalry quality and series quality play very important roles.

Friendship: Typically, they start out as enemies or strangers. Whatever it is, they’re not on great terms right away, but through a connection/understanding of each other that no others have, they become unlikely (and even unconventional) friends. Their bond is meant to be seen as one of the strongest in each series and are often each other’s greatest influence. On top of all of that, it’s normally the protagonist who longs to befriend the clearly broken inside rival. Which has a high tendency to end up with them being upset at offers to help and understand them being harshly rejected.

Soulful Connection: Duel Monsters is a card game with in-universe lore heavily pertaining to duelists’ souls, and the concept of them in general. It’s no surprise that the protagonists and rivals can end up with bonds that cause them to feel like soulmates. Yet, there are times when that connection becomes extremely apparent and more overt. First duels between them tend to have the protagonist being able to read the rival, seeing parts of him that don’t line up with what he says and leaving them to wonder why they’re so closed off or who made them act this way. Of course, this comes as a huge shock to the rival along with their ego. This in turn fuels the need to aid the rival; meanwhile, this character zeroes in on the protagonist.

Key Similarities: Regardless of how seemingly dissimilar they can be in beliefs, attitudes, intelligence, and their very dueling styles, these two are meant to have something that draws them to each other unlike anyone else. This showcases a common unbreakable thread that keeps them bound. It can be anything from pride to shared background experiences to having a hidden heart of gold.

Paralleled Features: Red versus blue is an age old trope that makes itself known in YGO. If the two aren’t clearly in line with that, they have several other opposing color differences such as one wearing darker colors while the other wears lighter ones. One of each of them could also be paler than the other either slightly or blatantly.

Sun/Moon, Light/Dark: Another common trope, that comes with some diverseness across the board. The protagonist can be made out to be something bright and life-saving similar to the sun, and this can be openly stated or strong hints to this can be thrown in. In the eyes of the rival, the protagonist can be seen as their light in the darkness. Someone who thrills them, serving as this unique person who can make them feel more alive and can even stop them from sinking too deep into metaphorical darkness.

Respect and Trust: These two are cornerstones of every dynamic. Without them, everything falls apart. The rival has a lot of difficulty navigating the idea of trusting others but commands respect he often doesn’t receive. The protagonist comes in to teach them better and be a guiding force much like with aiding them in friendship.

Separately, the rivals share traits modeled after Kaiba.

A lust for power (usually the result of never having any true power in their own lives)

A physical design that depicts them as being bigger, taller, and overall more masculine (in a few cases they’re even a year or two older)

Dramatics in their gestures, speech, fashion sense, dueling methods, and interests

A cold and aloof personality in which their stoic nature causes problems in whatever relationships they have

Cards are mainly very imposing and dark creatures

Difficulty with honesty and containing aggressive feelings

Being a part of a higher social or economic class (something which weighs on them and can be the source of a huge portion of their grief)

Dueling style will almost exclusively be focused on dominating the opponent through beat down

Experiencing a tragedy that forever changes parts of themselves in ugly ways

Protagonists are similar to Yugi and/or Atem, but unlike their less kind and closed off counterparts, there're plenty of times in which they’ve deviated far from the norm.

A more open heart to kindness and letting people get close, along with the urge to help others

Designs make them smaller and shorter than their rivals with a softer appearance that welcomes instead of rejects

A warmth and hope that can irritate the rival

Are more likely to use cards that feature cute monsters

Tragedy can strike them, but it’s treated like a source of strength or something that greatly influences what they do (can come with less hurtful coping mechanisms)

[There seems to be a common tactic when it comes to hiring the Japanese voice actors for the protagonists. They don’t have the experience of several roles, and voicing a YGO lead character is their first big hit].

These dynamics are easily my favorite part of each series, and one of the things I look towards the most when a new series is announced. Finally taking the time to write out an analysis and composing my thoughts feels nice. The next parts will be dedicated to actually looking at the specific relationships instead of talking about them generally.

[uncertaininnit]

who wants to read an essay about my relationship with simping/an appreciation(/simping lol) post about Will+Eret and also seperately tommyinnit that was written at 4:22 am and then added to the queue because i love the queue system also fun fact i pronounced the word ‘queue’ as ‘cc-week’ for like an entire year and idk why anyways

lets just jump into it

lol

so. if somebody was to ask me who my favorite mcyt is, i would think about it for a moment and eventually answer with either Wilbur or Eret. and i think that is purely out of simping instinct or whatever the fuck. 

to start, Wilbur; the prettiest man, period. i do not take constructive criticism. he is literally gorgeous and i get so mad at him for putting himself down all the time because he doesnt deserve the shit, especially not from himself. he is 24 years old and has the lowest self-esteem out of anybody i can think of. i want to yell in his face all the time. i want to tell him simps are the same species as him, and they have REASONS to simp. if you keep seeing appreciation posts about yourself (which im sure he does) that means people APPRECIATE YOU and WANT YOU to feel APPRECIATED. 

anyway, back to simping. let’s start from the top. his goddamn hair. it is, it is, and i just took a deep breath, so pretty. maybe it isnt the hair itself, probably, but the way it is done. wavy dark brown hair all floofy in the front. and he is constantly messing with it, which is THE cutest thing. when he is excited, he moves a lot, and his hair moves with him and gets messed up and ahhhcvkvyr moving on.

his face? lets start with his eyes. they are so pretty. i think my opinion on eyes is probably weird, and allow me to explain why. i never ever notice somebodies eye color when talking to them. i just dont even look. so when i am actively paying attention to somebody’s eyes, they are that much more important to me. but idk, i kinda feel like his eyes are one of the biggest factors of his face? like, he looks really pretty whether he is smiling or not, because his face doesn’t ride on his smile.

sidetrack paragraph about george: i think george is that way. he is adorable, but he is only really adorable when he is smiling. if i look up ‘georgenotfound cute’ it will be entirely him smiling, and never any other facial expression because he genuinely looks like the fucking weirdest thing sometimes when making a serious face. back to will.

i dont pay attention to noses because who even cares dude but i’m sure his nose does a good job of supporting his looks as well so good job nose

his SMILE. he doesn’t need to smile, but dude, when he does, it’s like i always used to say (and still would say) in regards to eijiro kirishima. it’s like... sunbeams, like rays of light are in his mouth and escaping when he smiles.i wonder how he keeps a star in there. because his smile literally lights up my heart. and when he tilts his head(basically all the time luckily)? so goddamn pretty. pretty man. pretty. 

that brings us to his neck, which is- no, kidding, but i do want to talk about his vocal chords! firstly his speaking voice, which i guess as an american it hits different for me because of the accent. but- i dont think i can put it into words. but the way he puts thoughts into words-(lol) idk, his voice is just really sweet. and his SINGING VOICE, here we go.

so he sings, duh. and i- holy fuck. he just sounds good, you know? he is a good singer. i want to put my emotions simply this time. he sings well, and he sounds good. a pretty voice for a pretty man. i cant even try to elaborate.

basically the only other thing of my concern is his fucking yellow sweater? or jumper or whatever the fuck? and his beanie? on his body? damn. i am genuinely attached to that sweater. it just looks good, ok? it does. 

oh yeah, and he’s hella fucking tall. 6′5? are you kidding? you couldn’t have at least been short so we could make fun of you?

oh yeah and his laugh-

it is now 4:53 am and a bitch is tired but i have an entire fucking train of thoughts and they must be somewhere before they slip away

the next part- Eret. i adore Eret. so incredibly much. and let me start this by saying i’m going to consistantly call him a he, because he doesn’t care and so that makes it easier for me. ok? ok.

he is the opposite of Wilbur in this one regard, confidence. and self-esteem. eret loves himself. that attitude spreads. look, not only is he like the #1 bicon in the world as far as i’m concerned, but he also actively fucks gender roles any day. strawberry dress pog? strawberry dress pog.

but seriously, he rocked the strawberry dress. and the suit, though i missed that stream. he rocks his crown, his sunglasses, just anything he puts on. and don’t get me started on the BOOTS

(im started on the boots) so firstly the heel boots, the first ones he got. when i first saw clips, my only thought was something like ‘woah.’ or maybe ‘damn.’ at that point i didn’t know much about him, just that he looked STELLAR in those boots (and the betrayal and shit yknow) and the PLATFORMS DUDE

the platforms are the same but moar tall, which is incredible. oh and now back to strawberry dress- have you seen him twirl? the twirl? hello? have you seen it? you must. 

also i havent even talked about HIM yet. hove you seen that picture of him with a bird on his shoulder? he is facing the bird, i think looking at it, with a wide smile across his face. and it is so pretty. he has the prettiest smile. 

also today i was looking for flour at the store place and a clip of him was playing in my mind- he was doing like an announcer voice, like in every superhero movie trailer- and he was just coming up with something to say, and what he ened up saying was ‘in a world... where.... cookies.... are made of pringles’ and OMFG its making me laugh even now. like of absolutely anything, that was the example he made. just thinking about it is making me smile. 

speaking of, have you heard his voice? his normal voice is really really deep anyways, but he has crazy range- he can effortlessly(i originally wrote effortly and when i noticed i laughed because i am so fucking tired bfv9wuocl) go from like an elmo impression (and a good one) to a just REALLY low voice, lower than his normal low voice. 

AND HIS SINGING VOICE! he doesn’t like actually make music like wilbur but on that one stream where he did kareoke (how the fuck is it spelled) with fundy and his voice is SO LIKE its deep and its just pretty and i never want to hear normal sweater weather ever again, just him singing it.

i think this is where i’m done with eret- it is 5:18 now, and a BITCH IS TIRED but i need to finish this while i’m still feeling this wayy or i’ll never finish it, i know this from experience.

and now it’s tommy time

the og reason i decided to make this an actual post . but i had to explain the simping thing before i got into my thoughts about tommy. 

but let me start this with just saying yes, i love him. he is a big man and i want him to be happy. which is the topic for today’s discussion, AHEM. 

so tommyinnit, right? he is 16, which is why i do NOT simp.i dont care that im also a minor, i wouldn’t do anything to make him feel uncomfortable, ever. in any world. never. because look- i dont know how to put it, but tommy is SIXTEEN. still young and impressionable and all that junk. and he is a fairly fucking famous twitch streamer. he does that almost daily.

what i’m saying is i dont want him to get hurt. him, and tubbo too. they are a part of the world, part of the public, all the time. don’t you think that is stressful? do you guys remember his haircut stream? on the day of his haircut? and chat was making fun of him for it, and wilbur was making fun of him for it. that is how i express affection, with my real friends as well. playful bullying. but at some point while Will was teasing him, he says something along the lines of ‘yeah, the big man hasn’t been having too great a day’ or something like that, and dude, my heart dropped.

a. he had mentioned earlier that he didn’t want to stream the day of his haircut because hair is always weird that first day, but since he hadn’t streamed in a good bit he felt obliged to. i dont really.. idk, i dont really like that. i dont want him to have to put himself in uncomfortable situations because he feels like he needs to for us. i don’t think that is healthy.

and b. chat and wilbur were bullying him. good-naturedly, but still, when he mentioned he had been having a bad day, the chat turned around and instantly started yelling shit like ‘AHHHH SORRY BIG MAN YOUR HAIR IS FINE’ and when Wilbur kept teasing him (you fucking beautiful bully man fuck off) yelling stuff like ‘WILBUR QUIT WE ARE H U R T I N G HIM’ and ‘WILL STFU HES HAVING A BAD DAY’ so im glad we all want him to feel ok

but still, it cannot be healthy. when i first got into MCYT, i though tommy was fucking loud and annoying. and he is! he is. but that is a big part of why i like him so much. and everyone jokes about him being a child, because he is, but i choose to not say stuff like that in chat just because i want him to be happy. those jokes are fun, but i want him to be happy. and he is happier when not being called a child.

im not attacking you, do whatever the fuck you want. i dont know why i feel the need to protect him or whatever, if he read this he would probably think i was hella creepy. i just- listen, i just want him to be happy. i just want him to smile and laugh. i sound SO GODDAMN CREEPY but- as ive said- i just want him to be happy. 

is this literally just what having a comfort streamer is? am i not crazy? does everyone experience this? and can we talk about tommy’s playlist it’s literally so sweet and bubbly compared to his personality and i love that. and the song he always plays at the start of stream and always like buzzes along to? that moment in time is my very favorite.

it is 5:44-

[why-did-i-join-this-fandom]

Simple Stars - part 2

Summary:  [Y/N] has found her soulmate.  But, it turns out that he’s an asshole.  Will they make amends?

Word Count: 2575

Warnings: slight angst??? a couple of swear words

Due to popular request, here is part 2 to “Simple Stars”  I wanted to add another day or so between when shit goes down and when Tsukki and the reader finally talk, but this would have ended up being like 5000 words!!  As always, let me know what you think!!  Your feedback is always welcome and appreciated!!

Part 1

~★~

  Part of you was happy that no one chased after you.  There was another part of you that was disappointed.  You knew that your soulmate was mean, so why did you still want him?  Why did the universe have to do this to you?  That night, you barely got any sleep.  Time was spent either crying or wondering why the universe hated you so much.

  Needless to say, you woke up the next morning feeling more tired than ever.  The day was spent simply going through the motions.  Although, you made an effort to not draw on yourself.  When lunch came around, you realized that you had forgotten your lunch at home.  Today was turning out to be one of the worst days of your life.

  Sighing, you stretched your arms above your head.  You debated on whether or not to dig through your bag for some extra cash.  Maybe you could get something from one of the vending machines.  Before you could reach to dig through your bag, Yachi tapped on your shoulder.

  “Are you alright?”  Her question was sincere, but you weren’t in the best mood.

  “Do I look okay?”  You snapped.  Noticing the look of shock and hurt on her face, you speak up again.  “I’m sorry.  I’m just tired.”

  “We both know that’s not true.  Come on, let’s get you something to eat.”  You begin to protest, but she slaps some money on your desk.  Sighing, you grab the money and stand.  What did you do to deserve such a good friend?

  “Lead the way, just not in front of the gym again.  I don’t want to deal with him.”  She simply smiles and leads you down the hallways of the school.

~★~

  Once Yamaguchi explained to the team why you ran away, everyone was scolding Tsukishima.  He did realize that he messed up, but he refused to admit it.  The idea of soulmates was nothing but an annoyance to him.  Someone who you’re supposed to spend the rest of your life with?  What bullshit.

  So why was he feeling like a small part of him died?  He reasoned with himself.  Saying that he was only so upset because the team teamed up against him and banned him from practice until he made amends.  Deep down, he knew that wasn’t true.  He felt so horrible because he could feel a small fraction of the emotions that you were feeling.

  Did he really hurt you that bad?  Had he really just fucked up the one good thing that this life was willing to give him?  He spent most of that night trying to drown out your emotions.  He tried listening to music on full blast.  He tried studying to get his mind off of the things that he felt, but it wouldn’t work.  Instead, he ended up crying himself to sleep, much like you did.

  When he woke up, part of him was hoping that you had written to him.  Even if it was just those stupid stars that he threw such a fit over.  Anything.  Tsukishima wasn’t one to get overly emotional, but he couldn’t help himself.  He spent his morning sulking, trying to get his indifferent mask back on.  It didn’t work, no matter how hard he tried.

  Yamaguchi definitely noticed the difference with his friend.  However, whenever he tried to bring the difference up, he was quickly shut down.  Tsukki went through the day as normal, much like you did.

~★~

  The walk to the vending machines was quiet.  Neither of you bothered to fill the silence.  It wasn’t until you finally reached the vending machines, that Yachi broke the silence.

  “Talk to me.”  Her voice was soft.  It was like if she spoke too loud, you would break.

  “I wish I didn’t have a soulmate,” you lied.  Right now it was easier to lie to yourself than to face the truth.  Maybe if you lied to yourself enough, you could get over this.  That wasn’t how it worked, but you were desperate to stop hurting.

  “Your soulmate is your other half.  The person you are meant to spend the rest of your life with.  It’s gonna be just like any other relationship.  There are going to ups and downs, but in the end, you both know that it’s going to work out.  Do you really want to spend the rest of your life sad and alone because of one little argument?”  She was right.  No matter how much you wanted to deny it, Tsukki was your other half.  The person you were destined to spend your life with.  But that still didn’t give him any right to hurt you like he did.

  “I just… I’m not sure what to think right now.  On one hand, my heart wants to forgive him.  On the other hand, my brain keeps telling me that I don’t deserve to be treated like that.”  There was your dilemma.  The battle between your heart and your brain.  “Realistically, I know that I should just forgive and forget.  It would be better for the both of us.  I think I just need a little bit of time to process.”  At first, you didn’t want to talk about what happened.  You wanted to deny everything and go back to normal.  However, it was better to talk.  It was better to get your thoughts out there than to keep everything in your head.  

  You both take a moment to bask in the silence.  Yachi struggles to find the right words to say.  So instead she hums in approval.  She understands that you’re hurting, and she respects it.  “Let’s head back to the classroom.”  Yachi chooses to end the conversation there.  She packs her lunch up and waits for you to follow suit.  When you finally do, she gives you a small smile and walks alongside you.

~★~

  The last half of the school day comes and goes.  There was too much on your mind to properly focus, so you doodled instead.  You tried to keep your pen on your paper, but there were a few times when you couldn’t help yourself.  It wasn’t as bad as usual, but there were a handful of stars on your arms.  Would Tsukki get mad again?

  “[Y/N]-chan, why don’t you stay after school with me?  I’ll let you copy my notes and we can walk home together.”  Yachi spoke as soon as the bell rang.  You really had to stop spacing out so much.

 ��“Yeah, I’ll be in the library.  Text me when you’re done cleaning up, I’ll meet you at the entrance.”

  “You can just sit in the gym again,” she offers.  “That way we can just go from there,” Yachi quickly finds an excuse.  Like hell you’d go back there.  Not after last time.

  “I’m sure you know why I’m gonna say no.  There’s no way.  I’m not ready to see him again.”  You really weren’t.  At this point, you knew what you had to do, but you weren’t ready.  Not yet.

  “Alright.  I’ll see you later.”  Yachi relents.  You both pack your bags and head your separate ways.

  Your walk to the library was quiet.  It was nice to be alone again.  Once in the library, you unpack your notebook, pens, and Yachi’s notebook.  You spend a while copying notes, until someone sits in front of you.  There were plenty of seats open, so why did this person decide to sit right by you?  Curiosity gets the best of you and you look up and glare.

  “Why are you here?  Don’t you have practice?”  You sneer.  Of all places he could be, he had to be right here in front of you.

  “I’m skipping today,” he explained simply.  He didn’t look at you.  Instead, his eyes were on anything but you.  The walls, the books on the shelves, other students, anything but you.

  “Uh-huh.  Like I would believe that.  What happened, did they kick you out,” you questioned mockingly.  Finally he looks at you.

  “Tch.  I don’t want to be here as much as you don’t want me to be here.”  He said to you, matching your glare.

  “Then why are you here?  I thought I was too annoying for you,” you reminded him.  If he wants to talk to you, you’re gonna remind him of what he did.  Of how he hurt you.  The least he could do was apologize.  He’s the reason why you two were in this mess to begin with.

  The librarian shushed the both of you.  A small apology escaped your lips.  While you were momentarily distracted, Tsukishima snatched your pen from your hand.

  “Hey!  Give that back!”  What was wrong with this dude?

  “[L/N]!  Out!”  The librarian yelled.  Before you could protest, Tsukishima grabbed your stuff and dragged you out of there.

  “What the hell?  What’d you do that for?”  You yelled at him, snatching your wrist back.  So much for copying notes in a peaceful area.  Tsukishima walked off before he responded.

  “Well, are you coming or not?”  The smirk on his face made you want to hit him.  But, you followed him nonetheless.  He still had your stuff, after all.

  “Where are we going?”  You questioned.  

  “You’ll see.  Hurry up or I’ll leave you behind, short stack.”  Now he was calling you names?  What the hell was this guy’s problem?

  “Just because you’re a bean pole, doesn’t mean I’m short,” you defended.  He merely hums and starts walking faster.  “Hey, you jerk!  Slow down!”

~★~

  When he finally stopped, you were by the gym.  There was no escaping this place, huh?  Things were still quiet.  Neither of you had bothered to make further conversation.  Instead of wasting time sitting in silence, you decide to resume copying Yachi’s notes.  Digging into your bag, you take out both notebooks and a couple of pens.  Though, your favorite pen was not in its proper spot.  You check your backpack 3 or 4 times before letting a huff of frustration out.

  “Hey have you seen…”  The words die in your throat as you look over to see Tsukishima drawing on his arm with it.  “Hey!  I thought you hated when I drew on my arms!  Why do you get to draw on yours?”  You reach over to grab the pen from his hand.  He quickly finishes writing and stands up, holding the pen above his head.  Instead of looking like a fool and jumping up to reach it, you punch him in the stomach and snatch it when he bends over.

  “What the hell was that for?”  He clutches his stomach.

  “That’s what you get for hurting me and stealing my favorite pen,” you explain smugly.  Soon your smile dies down and you remember the hurt that you were feeling not too long ago.  With fists clenched at your side, you glare at him once more as you fight the tears that were coming back.  “Why?”  You sniffle.  “Why would you write that?”  At this point your sorrow had come back, full blast.

  He hesitates, still clutching his stomach.  “Because you were being annoying.  I was getting tired of washing off all of your little doodles before practice.”  He sits back down next to you, this time closer than before.

   “Why would you wash them off?  Is there a rule against it?”  You wanted to understand.  Why would he get rid of the doodles that connected you to him?  Did he really hate them that much?

  “I just didn’t like the attention they brought to me.”  He sighed, looking away.  “People would always comment on them.  Whether it was making fun of them or even just admiring them.  It got irritating at some point.”

  You nod, understanding that he just didn’t want the attention.  But one question still floated around in your head.  “So, do you really hate them?”  The words were quiet.  You knew it would be a difficult question to answer.  He seemed like the type of person to close anyone out before they got too close to his true emotions.  You finally looked over at him. Again, he was staring at anything but you.

  A light blush dusted his cheeks.  After a few seconds of hesitation, he finally answered.  “I don’t hate them.  They’re actually kind of…”  He trails off into a mumble.  The blush on his cheeks got brighter as he spoke.

  “What?”  You questioned.  Instead of properly answering he looked away and mumbled again.  “Huh?”  You lean in closer, trying to figure out what he’s saying.  Still, he doesn’t look at you and mumbles again, getting so red you thought he was gonna pass out.  “You’re gonna have to speak up.  I can’t hear you.”

  “I think they’re cute, you idiot!”  His head whips around, so he can finally look you in the eyes.  Your noses brush against each other.  Both of you remain there.  Noses touching, too shocked to move.  You could feel his breath on your lips.  How had you gotten so close without realizing it.  Both of your faces were flushed.  Time seemed to come to a halt.  Was this it?  Was this the moment you forgave him and sealed your fate?

  “JUST KISS ALREADY!”  The sudden yell makes the both of you pull away.  When your head whips around to see who yelled, you see the whole team standing there.  Watching you.  Instead of them all continuing to stare at you and Tsukishima, they turn to scold the person who yelled.  It was another short player.  The one with a tuft of hair bleached in the front.  While everyone drags him back inside the gym, the one with grey hair waves and tells you to “carry on.”  Way to ruin the mood, guys.

  When you look back at Tsukishima he has a glare on his face.  This time it wasn’t aimed at you.  While he’s distracted, you take time to get a good look at his face.  There was still a light blush on his cheeks.  Though, it wasn’t clear if that was from embarrassment or anger right now.  His short, blond hair looked soft, and the way the light hit his eyes made them look beautiful.

  “Don’t you know that staring is rude,” his sudden interjection caught you off guard.  How long had you been staring?  You blushed again and backed up even more, almost falling off the bench.

  “I wasn’t staring!”  You denied, waving your arms in front of your face.  The embarrassment didn’t last long, because you noticed something on your arm.  “I’m sorry.  Forgive me?” was written neatly, with little stars surrounding it.  When you looked back at Tsukishima, he was turned away again.  Though, the blush was still obvious.

  Instead of responding verbally, you picked your pen up and wrote back to him.  “You are forgiven.” appeared on Tsukishima’s arm.  He was almost too embarrassed to notice it.  It was your turn to blush and look away.  Though, when he stands up suddenly, you look back up at him, slightly confused.

  “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”  Before you can protest, your phone rings.  It’s a text from Yachi.  She says that you can keep her notebook for the night and give it back to her in the morning.  You smile.

  “Okay, let’s go.”  When you stand he snatches your pen again and speeds away.  “Hey!  Give that back!”  You quickly stand up and run after him, giggling.  Maybe your soulmate wasn’t such an asshole after all.

Taglist:

@yeet-these-hoez @steggy4ever

[crimson-snowfall]

[Commission] A Steamy Lesson

Pairing: Isaac x MC x Arthur

Word Count: 3653

Rating: Explicit

POV: 2nd person

Warnings: threesome, multiple orgasms, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, blowjob, cum eating, lots of biting and one instance of male-to-male vampire biting.

Important: This is an NSFW fic, the pairing and warnings have been already listed; friendly reminder that you are responsible for the content you consume.

Commissioned by: @cinnatwisted​. Thank you for letting me write this favorite sandwich of mine!

"Penny for your thoughts, little dove?" Arthur's carefree voice rang enticingly in your ears, pulling you from your train of thoughts. Perhaps it was written all over your face, for in that morning alone, it wasn't the first time that someone noticed that you have something in your mind– something unpleasant, to be exact. Or at least, that's as far as Isaac could read into, and you wouldn't really take it against your lover knowing full well that he's never had to deal with these kinds of situations ever before.

The seducer that had appeared before you in that moment, however, had already more or less narrowed down as to what that unpleasant feeling was. All he needed was some sort of confirmation.

"Nothing you should worry yourself about," you dropped your gaze on the floor in an attempt to escape his probing eyes, but if anything, it only seemed to ignite his desire to get further involved.

Inching a bit closer to you, he tried again.

"Awww come on," he caught a stray lock of your hair and wound it loosely around his index finger, "...no harm in telling me about it, little dove. Who knows, I might just happen to be the perfect candidate in helping you out with this trouble of yours."

And dang right he is… except that Arthur probably has something more daring in mind, and right now... it's not exactly how you'd want to address your problem.

At least not yet.

"Knowing you, you probably already knew before even approaching me," you mumbled under your breath, frustration evident in the way your expression crumpled ever so slightly. The smug grin your response drew on Arthur's expression confirmed your own suspicions.

"I never would've guessed you'd give me that much credit," he admitted as he lifted up your chin, his alluring gaze holding your wavering ones captive, before adding, much to your disdain, "...but then again, my assumptions could be off the mark, that's why I want to hear it from you."

You rolled your eyes on him. There's no way in hell that someone as perceptive and as perverted as him could be wrong.

Especially not when the evidence of your troubles is the depressingly pristine condition of your neck.

"Look, I believe you just asked me what's troubling me, which I know for sure you've already figured out. We're not talking about what you're gonna do about it, because I haven't exactly asked you to do anything about it."

Arthur's expression dropped a little. "Aww, would it kill you to admit you've been craving for a little nibble?" Arthur ghosted his deft fingers over one side of your neck, before giving voice to that suggestion you've been expecting from someone like him, "...and I'll have you know, I can make you feel just as good."

Oh, if only you weren't craving it so bad–

A sharp hiss, one that could've easily morphed into a moan escaped your lips as the tip of Arthur's warm tongue drew a thin line over the side of your neck. He ushered you into a more secluded nook of the hallway, and he chuckled conceitedly as you held onto his arms… as though you were bracing yourself for something more.

"See? I told you so," Arthur remarked teasingly before putting that sinful tongue of his into work again, this time exploring your neck more liberally. You held a hand over your mouth to muffle the gasps and low moans that accompanied each flick and swish of his tongue against your flesh that had been deprived of that kind of warmth and attention for quite some time now– for even when Isaac made love to you, he would intentionally avoid those spots.

Perhaps it was a bit of a drastic countermeasure, but then again, you couldn't remember either when was the last time his bite had not left you mildly anemic the following day. You honestly wouldn't have minded it that much either, but even so, a part of you couldn't help but wish that Isaac could remain himself even after he sinks his fangs into your neck.

For whenever it happens, it's almost always without any warning.

You squeezed your eyes shut as Arthur grazed the tip of his fangs against your ears, and his deep, seductive voice eroded your reservations piece by piece,

"Tell me what you want me to do, my little dove," he gazed deeply into your eyes, and all you had to do was to vocalize what your expression reflected on those sapphire orbs of lust.

"Oh please, Arthur. You know what I want, just this once–"

Then all of a sudden, and very much contrary to what you've been expecting him to do, he let go of you.

"Just this once?" His voice lacked its distinctive teasing tone, but his amused expression betrayed none of what's truly going on in his mind at that time.

The sudden shift in the mood left you feeling rather embarrassed though, so it was only natural that your next words came out a tad bit too defensive,

"Y-yes, you heard that right! Just this o-once, so you can trust that I-I'll never come to you again…"

Arthur's smile turned into a haughty one. "Is that so?"

"Y-Yeah!" 

"Oh, then I'm afraid that just won't do, my little dove," he feigned disappointment as he straightened up the collar of your blouse, before leaning in close, lifting up your chin once more until your lips are just a couple centimeters apart,

"Just once won't do it for me, but you know what? I've got an idea on how to make this work for all three of us," he imparted suggestively whilst his thumb toyed with your lower lip, before finally backing away, returning the personal space that you sadly didn't need that time.

"What do you mean?" You asked as Arthur began to walk away.

"You'll see later… oh and by the way, don't forget to invite your dear Newt to bed tonight."

Despite your confusion, you ended up doing as Arthur had instructed. You had invited Isaac to your room that night, but he's running late for some reason. Before your mind could take advantage of the vacancy to think over Arthur's implications earlier that day though, the door swung open… but instead of Isaac, it was the seducer who had come in.

"A-Arthur! What are you doing here?" You asked in alarm as he casually made his way to your bed.

"Aww, relax! You didn't have to sound like I'm an intruder or what," he reassured you as he surprisingly settled for sitting on the edge of the bed… not that you were secretly a little disappointed, of course.

"But you are an intruder."

"No I'm not."

"Then explain yourself." And explain himself and his devious plans for that night, Arthur did exceptionally well, that you had a river running down your core by the end of it all.

“Oh m-my god, are y-you insane? Do you think that h-he would actually–”

"Oh trust me he would," Arthur confidently declared as he began making his move, crawling up slowly until his form was towering over you, "and I'll make sure that you're gonna savor every moment of it too."

Before you could voice out any more complaints though, the seducer sealed your lips with a brief but passionate kiss, then slowly made his way down to your neck. He deftly swirled his tongue in a circular motion over the tender spots over your flesh, topping it up with a suctioning kiss before shifting to another spot.

"Aaaah~! Morrreee, Arthur, please… I neeed morrreee…"

"More what? You know, I'm afraid you'll have to be specific about your needs…" Arthur teased as he simply allowed his warm breath waft over your jugular, and for all the building up he's done with you ever since that morning, that was the last straw.

Discarding the last shreds of your decency, you implored him, "I want– no, I need you to sink your fangs into me Arthur, please, I just can't take it any– aaaaaahhh~!!!"

He obliged the exact moment the door to your room had opened once more, and the sound of your ecstatic moans as Arthur answered your desperate pleas greeted and filled the ears of a flabbergasted Isaac. 

The bite didn't even last a full minute, but for Isaac, it seemed to last an eternity… but the torrent of jealousy he'd thought would overcome him upon watching such a scene unfold before his eyes never came. Instead, all he could think of was the expression of pure bliss on your face as fangs were embedded deep in your neck… and oh, just when was the last time he'd heard such delightfully lewd moan from you? You would always moan sweetly for him each time he made love to you, but there's something, something undeniably raw and purely erotic about your moans in that fleeting moment. 

And that something shattered some of his own conventions and inhibitions about sex.

Your eyes still clouded over with lust, your wandering gaze locked with Isaac's. Though you weren't sure whether the gasp that came after was from pleasure over the vampire in your arms nursing the puncture wounds in your neck with his skillful tongue, or the mixture of surprise and guilt after inevitably getting caught in the act, what you can be sure of was that the dark look in his eyes wasn't that of jealousy… but something that more or less aligns with what Arthur had predicted while he was divulging his plans to you earlier.

Your body tensed as Isaac silently approached the two of you, but Arthur seemed to share none of your worries as he nonchalantly greeted your lover.

"Just in time, Newt. Like what you see?"

"Sh-shut up!" Isaac's cheeks burned up over Arthur's casual inquiry, but he didn't exactly refute it as he smoothed a thumb over the bite marks on your neck. The other vampire merely shrugged him off and wasted no time as he began to unbutton your blouse, capturing one of your breasts in his mouth. 

And in the same manner that he made no attempts to deny Arthur's accusation, he also made no attempts to keep the other vampire from biting you a second time– if anything, he was way too focused with the lewd expressions you made as you attempted to drown out your moans by sucking on his probing fingers.

"Does i-it really feel that g-good?" Isaac asked, and naturally, your opportunistic seducer deemed that moment to be a perfect time to amp up the pleasure he was giving you, effectively reducing you into a moaning mess as though to prove a point in lieu of a verbal answer.

"Newt, it's unreasonable to ask such questions," Arthur remarked as he made a show of licking his blood-stained lips.

"Unreasonable? I think you're the one who's being unre–"

"It's pointless trying to quantify something as bottomless as pleasure, is what I'm trying to say," Arthur leaned dangerously close to Isaac until he had him backed completely against the headboard, "But then it's just as pointless trying to explain that in words… so what do you say I show you what I mean, Newt?"

Arthur's teasing caused an extremely flustered Isaac to break out into goosebumps, and as though that wasn't enough for him, you finally began paying attention to the painfully hard bulge in his pants. His brain swam in equal parts of anticipation and trepidation as Arthur inched closer and closer while you nimbly freed his erection.

"O-ooh G-Gods…!" He threw his head back in pleasure as you gave the tip of his cock a few little licks, the warmth of your mouth enveloping his length enough to make him forget about the imminent danger closing in on him as his reaction consequently left his own neck vulnerable.  

Moans and curses filled the room as Arthur latched onto Isaac's neck, the latter's expression morphing from utter bewilderment into that of newfound euphoria, a whole new world unraveling before him as the bite of a fellow vampire injected pleasure directly into his veins, while your mouth greedily suctioned the pre-cum that served as proof of just how delightfully overwhelmed he was.

'So this is how it feels to be thoroughly lost in pleasure.'

Arthur withdrew with a satisfied smirk, and looking Isaac directly in the eye, he imparted his lesson,

"And that's how it's done, Newt. You need to think of biting a woman in the same way you would plan about fucking her silly…" Arthur briefly paused to whip out his own neglected erection then positioned it by your entrance, "...If you want the pleasure to last longer, then you need to be able to fuck her over and over again..." he rasped as he buried his length down your dripping core on a leisurely pace, finishing his statement only after all of him was inside you, "...and the only way you can do that is by moderating your pace and self."

True to his words, Arthur started off with an excruciatingly slow pace.

"A-Arthur! Y-You tease…!"

Isaac clearly didn't like the short interval when your mouth left his cock however, and the next thing you knew, he was eagerly thrusting it into your mouth. So whereas Arthur was taking his sweet time unraveling you by your core, Isaac, who'd been built-up ever since he'd stepped into your room, was rather desperate for his release. Hence, despite his intent to follow the advice Arthur had given him just now, the novelty of this whole experience proved to be too much for him. One way or another, he just had to unleash his feral side before he could even hope to put into practice what had just been taught to him.

Craving for a full view of your lecherous expressions and him ramming his cock into your mouth, Isaac yanked your hair back so that your eyes were on him. His eyes were bottomless pools of ferocious lust and smoldering need as he did your mouth in the same manner he would do your pussy whenever he's about to climax, but one of the more notable differences is the feel of his swelling cock. While the sensation was rather subtle when it was within your pussy, the increase in size was more perceptible within your mouth as your lover's thick length began to breach your throat, but if anything, the sight of tears brimming on your eyes as you gagged on his cock only seemed to ignite a more vicious fire in him as his thrusts grew more frantic.

"My, my, would you look at that? I knew Newt had a lot of pent-up desires, but who would've thought he was this intense?" Arthur, whose thrusts were starting to match Isaac's, leaned over to whisper in your ear, "...and if I had to guess, that's one of the things you secretly like the best about him, don't you?"

You were obviously in no position to entertain his questions though, but that didn't keep him from running his dirty mouth in between the little nibbles he made along your back.

"Just look at him, little dove. Do you see any ounce of reservation in him as he indulges in making you choke on his cock? He didn't even had any qualms about sharing you with me now, did he? And unless my eyes are deceiving me… he's actually into this, don't you think?"

No sooner than those words had left Arthur's lips that Isaac came heavily in one last powerful thrust, filling your throat and oral cavity with his thick and creamy release. His eyes gleamed in sheer perverted delight as your abused mouth quivered along with the throbbing of his cock, and oh, how he loved it when the excess cum dripped from your lips as he pulled out his cock.

"Beautiful... you're so beautiful when you make that kind of face…" he exhaled dreamily as he knelt in front of you and smeared your cheeks with the cum on your chin, before lifting and seating you properly on Arthur's meat. Your lover showered your chest with kisses as he kept his hands busy squeezing your ass, while you fervently rode your seducer's cock as you grew increasingly wanton and desperate for your own release. As though he could read your actions, Isaac took that opportunity to tenderly sink his fangs just above your chest, and the pleasure that coupled the unusually gentle bite from your lover brought you closer to your climax.

A broken scream ripped through your still aching throat as you finally orgasmed, and Isaac held your body close to his as it convulsed with raw sexual enrapturement. With your walls closing in on his cock so tightly, it didn't take long before Arthur joined you in your bliss, and soon his balls and the rest of his crotch were glistening with a mixture of your sinful juices.

"How was it?" Arthur asked breathlessly.

"G-good. It's s-so damn good, A-Arthur," You replied in between pants while you soothingly ran your fingers through Isaac's smooth hair, who had just finished having his little fill of you.

Arthur chuckled softly. "Then do you want more?"

"I d-don't know if I– aah! Isaac, what are you– oooohhh~!"

In the blink of an eye, Isaac had flipped you over and buried his still semi-hard cock into your pussy before you could even say anything.

"Please…" Isaac purred sweetly in your ears, voice dripping with need, "I promise I'll be gentle this time, so please… let me devour and fill you up some more…"

"Y-Yes, Isaac. You know I'm all yours…"

Compared to his pace from before, this time Isaac's thrusts were more regular, but he makes a point of pounding in deeply every once in a while, as though the rhythmic slapping of your ass against his lap were music to his ears. Not wanting to miss out on the action, Arthur crawled up to kiss you passionately while his hands roamed all over your body.

"Arthur," Isaac called out as he gave his fellow vampire a light nudge on the shoulder, "Don't kiss her… I want to hear her voice."

"Sure," Your seducer willingly honored your lover's request with a devious grin, before suggesting, "In fact, if hearing her voice is what you fancy… I’d be more than willing to help you out with that.”

"Do as you wish," came Isaac's brief reply before he busied his mouth nuzzling and nibbling on your nape and shoulders.

On the other hand, Arthur immediately followed through with his suggestion, inserting two fingers into your core. He then proceeded to track down the sensitive spots all over your body, grazing his fangs ever so slightly over the places he has marked you.

"Like what you hear, Newt? She's quite the wildcat, isn't she?" Arthur said before taking out his fingers, admiring the several thin lines of your juices connecting them together before offering it to his fellow vampire, "I bet you already know this, but I can tell that she's absolutely scrumptious down there too."

Isaac briefly halted his ministrations on your neck to lick off your juices on Arthur's fingers, and you couldn't help but find that little gesture severely arousing. After his fingers had been thoroughly cleaned, Arthur brought his fingers back into your core, this time with a third finger that went inside. His fingers matched the pace of your lover’s cock, and soon the wet sounds of your juices being thoroughly churned joined the harmony of obscene sounds that filled the room.

"I-I'm gonna c-cum again, o-oooh, I'm gonna– aaaaaahhhhh!" You came instantaneously as Isaac bit into his side of your neck. Arthur withdrew his fingers once more, this time to have his share of your essence from two of his three fingers heavily coated with your release. He consumed it in the most salacious manner possible, and though his mouth may be busy with his crude display, you could've sworn his eyes did all the dirty smiling for him with how lewdly he regarded you with them.

He was about to move on to the last finger when Isaac let go of your neck, and quite reluctantly, Arthur offered it to him once more.

"You're sweeter than usual," Isaac remarked after he finished his second serving of your juice.

"That's because there's two of us, Newt," Arthur said before putting his fingers back inside you, this time pumping it on a faster pace than Isaac's cock and using his thumb to stimulate your clit.

"Is that true?" Isaac asked, but he already knew the answer as your moans grew more shrill with the other vampire's skilled fingers building you up through your third orgasm for that night. Fueled by the sounds you make and the way your warm, beautifully flushed body writhed against his own, Isaac sped up his own thrusts. Over the course of the time it took for both of you to reach your next orgasms, Isaac and Arthur took turns in biting your neck. 

The alternating waves of pleasure it brought you was so much that when you finally came, all the accumulated pleasure that had seeped into your limbs wore you down and robbed you of your strength as you released them all at once. Isaac reached his own climax just a few moments after you did, and it didn't take long before the two of you inevitably collapsed in a pile on top of Arthur, who rolled his exhausted fellow vampire into his side but kept you on top of him.

Setting stray locks of your disheveled hair from your face behind your ears, he looked into your drowsy eyes, and with a victorious smile, he reiterated his words from that morning,

"See? I told you so."

Commissions Page | Ikevamp Fics

[empty-dream]

Just watched 91 Days

Yet another anime I watch because of the opening song.

A dude wants to get revenge on the mafia family who murdered his entire family 7 years ago by getting close to them and killing them one by one.

If only I didn't have a life to do I'd really binge this in one sitting lmao

I've known this anime exists for years but despite being interested I couldn't bring myself to watch it because I knew this kind of story has nothing but pain yet I'd still get attached somehow and I'd get hurt in the end as the result.

It turns out, this kind of story has nothing but pain yet I still get attached somehow and get hurt in the end as the result.

Your typical mafia gangster revenge criminal show, complete with the all possible cliches of its genre, except in anime format. Seriously, the atmosphere, the soundtrack, the settings, even the logo, all scream “MAFIA SHOW.” I feel like actually watching western gangster show instead of a Japanese anime.

Seriously tho who names the town "Lawless"? Why would any decent person live in a town named "Lawless"??

*Wheeze* I know this was out in 2016 but I can't ignore that one of the main casts looks and acts like FGO's Napoleon but his goddamn name is Nero lmaoo. Thank God he doesn't go umu umu on me.

For all their shortcomings, I like all the major characters. Except Don Orco, fuck that guy. But if you ask me who is my most favorite, surprisingly (or maybe not), it's Corteo. Dude just wants to study in school, not become a mafioso. He's like, normal, if a little bit too meek. I mean, helping your bff who comes back after 7 years with his vengeance but still questioning if it's really worth it is pretty much on the middle side. Not blindly loyal, not self-serving either. Also I can't believe he and FGO's Wodime share the same VA? He sounds so soft and nothing like the latter?? Soma Saito, the range you have...

What do you mean Nero is only 21?? And was only 14 by the time of the Lagusa murders?? He looks at least 25. I like how much of a jolly guy he is that sometimes I wonder how is he a mafia? At least until the second half, that is. "Avilio is like an empty shell. I will find him a reason to live." Wow dude. That's some heavy declaration.

Avilio is... Avilio. Your classic For-Vengeance! anti hero who becomes the very thing he despises but he most likely doesn't care either way.

See, why I was afraid to watch this anime is because I knew the protagonist will get close to the antagonist and they will forge an amazing bond. For the latter, it's genuine but for the former, it's fake. It's just a painful thing to watch when you know from both sides.

On the other side, I love how Corteo-Avilio relationship is portrayed, and unlike Avilio-Nero, I know it's sincere from the both of them and it's just sweet. Their faling out scene is one of my favs too because at that point, they both have had it and it's because they care about each other.

For Avilio, Corteo (and his beer recipe) is both the key to get anyone into his side and a target for the others, so losing him would endanger his revenge goal and whatever sanity he has left, while having him around would be risky and means more work, not to mention the questionings. Corteo himself is worried for Avilio, is jealous of his bond with Nero despite knowing it's fake, and to be fair Avilio involves him in his personal agenda under the pretext of "brotherhood" and is trying to wave everything with money. But it's clear that from the beginning to the end, they are loyal to each other.

Fango is batshit insane and while I love how Ep8 turns out, honestly he is entertaining lol.

Vanno is done so dirty even though I like him a lot.

I love how fucking wrecked Avilio looks after ep 10 and it just doesn't get better. He sure spirals down really fast it's quite eerie.

I did say I got attached and hurt but it wasn't as deep as I thought it'd be.  

They should probably dig more of the past of the central characters instead of simply mentioning it. Like say, they could have shown Avilio's life for the past 7 years or how Nero fared with the mafia life given that he wasn't that fond of it but still devoted himself to protect the family pride. Weird, because many other aspects of the casts' characterizations (hobbies, abilities, tendencies, relationships) are usually shown instead of told.

Well following the cliches of the genre, Fio the girl of the family is set up to marry the political rival and after her role is done, she is shipped away. She could have more to do with the plot than this. Even though I like her initiatives to get the brothers work together...

I love religious badass characters because of rule of cool. And in this setting, I can watch them recite prayers, sign cross, go to mass, and I can honestly say "What's all that for? Y'all just gonna commit atrocities again anyway." and I love the irony in it.

I'll never look at lasagna the same way again.

For the kind of revenge story that focuses on how ugly revenge is, I like this show's execution and exploration. There is nothing new, but it plays its cards nicely.

So I was listening to TK on Spotify and Signal is fucking amazing. Its popularity is directly behind the legendary Unravel and Katharsis, even. Then I found out it's actually the op song for this anime, which is what finally spurred me into watching it. The power of a song, indeed.

Tl;dr What do you mean it's been only 91 Days I thought it was an entire year?? They got done in by a guy they've known for just, like, a season??

[kondo-hijikata]

Pairings: Yamazaki Susumu/Kimigiku, Background Toshisami Rating: M Summary: Yamazaki sees all and knows all...until he finds out he's missed a couple of very obvious things. Written for hakusaitosan. [AO3] (There’s some slight spice in this but nothing overly graphic.)

A Moment of Clarity

When Hijikata’s hips swayed out in an unnatural manner upon standing, Yamazaki was instantly upon his feet as well. “Fukucho.” Serious eyes slid to Kondo as he steadied his second by the shoulders. “Kyokucho, may I inquire where you intend to go?”

Kondo laughed. Why had he laughed? As Yamazaki’s brows drew inward, he felt the large hand of his commander warmly touch his shoulder. “Always on duty, aren’t you, Yamazaki-kun?”

Hijikata hiccupped and jabbed a finger toward him. “See, that’s why this one’s my favorite, Kat-chan. Along with Saito over there. Attention to detail, love it.”

Concern was clearly present in the ninja’s gaze as he looked between both men. Kondo seemed to be more sober than Hijikata, but by how much, he couldn’t accurately judge and any margin of error was unacceptable when it came to ensuring their safety.

Kondo appeared to pick up on his unrest. “Yamazaki-kun, I promise you we’ll be okay.”

“Guaranteed.” Hiccup.

“Toshi and I have something to talk about.” …Why had Hijikata snorted at that moment? “So look, please go sit down and enjoy the night out. How often is it that you get to unwind at Shimabara?”

‘…and not be here undercover,’ Kondo hadn’t added, but Yamazaki was quite sure he’d seen the notion reflecting in those golden eyes. Or maybe his ever-paranoid and racing mind had just filled in the blanks. Whatever the case, the point was moot in the present.

“Kondo-kyokucho, I must insist—”

“For fuck’s sake, Yama-chan!” A heavy arm slung about his shoulders out of nowhere, and then came the offensive assault of sake breath as Okita invaded his personal space. “Try reading the room, mm?”

“There is nothing to read,” Yamazaki shot back, making no effort to conceal his disgust while ducking away from the unwelcome contact. He glared with disapproving eyes, darkened only further by chagrin. “The safety of the commander and vice commander is my top priority tonight. It should also be yours.”

Okita’s eyes were half-lidded as he peered, unamused, at a far wall. “Yama-chan, it’s amazing, really. You and Hajime-kun both have the observational ability of a rock at times.”

Saito kept his eyes closed as he sipped his sake, either not hearing or caring about the criticism. That couldn’t have been further from the truth with the other half in question.

The nerve! The audacity! The…the absolute insolence! Yamazaki thought his blood might boil. “Saito-san is one of the most observant individuals I have ever met. Do not dare speak ill of him.”

All Okita offered in reply was his signature mischievous laugh, the one that so expertly and arrogantly grated the nerves. “You know that Kondo-san and Hijikata-san are long gone by now?”

A hiss fell from Yamazaki when he whipped around, confirming that his superior officers had, indeed, taken their leave. “I must—!”

“Nope.” Okita grabbed Yamazaki’s arm, pulling him back just before he sprinted through the closed shoji. “You really don’t.” Without a second more of wasted time, he shoved his mouth right next to the ninja’s ear.

And into it, without an iota of sugarcoating, he whispered something.

Yamazaki’s eyes went wide. He shot an incredulous, nearly offended, look in response.

Another obnoxiously gleeful laugh rang out. “Yep! That’s right. Let that little factoid simmer a little in your brain.” Okita finally released him and chuckled openly as he flopped back on his zabuton. “Hajime-kun, look!” He gave a slap to the shoulder. “It’s you finding out all over again.”

Saito’s torso swayed in response to the contact, but he simply continued drinking without a sound. However, he opened his eyes at last and simply dropped his chin once in Yamazaki’s direction: a confirmation.

He went motionless. Didn’t blink, didn’t breathe. His heart might have even stopped.

Toudo-kun and Nagakura-san were laughing loudly at something. Spinning and dizzying, the room suddenly was. Hot. Too hot. Too many voices, too much going on.

Yamazaki had to leave. And yet, he couldn’t move as the pieces started falling in place.

Kondo-kyokucho and Hijikata-fukucho?

…What?!

~

“Well, well, well, well.” The shoji slid closed.

Yamazaki hadn’t even bothered to turn toward the voice; he knew to whom it belonged and if he were entirely honest—by the by, he was always entirely honest—seeing her right now seemed to be a horrible idea. His brain almost always classified it as such, but the present felt even more dangerous than usual.

And yet…

“Who have we here, all by his lonesome?”

Kimigiku’s ornate kimono came into peripheral then full view as she gracefully assumed seiza across the way. She dressed expensive, smelled expensive. The fabric wrapped about her tall figure was adorned with violet and pink flowers, the golden stitches glittering in candle warmth. And her hair, intricately swept up to expose fully the beauty of her features, left her face much too soft for an individual of her caliber.

…of her real nature and real profession.

Yamazaki, sitting in seiza himself, closed his eyes in defiance. He had enough on his plate.

“No interest in conversation tonight, Yamazaki-san?” she sang softly, reaching for the sake and holding it toward his half-filled cup. To get his attention, she said, “Here. Have more.”

His lashes parted slightly at first, and then all the way. The flat, broad edge of the cup met his lips and he tossed his head back to down the smooth alcohol, then he jabbed the vessel toward her. A mumble followed. “Thanks.”

Sake trickled from the carafe, and Yamazaki studied her hands; they carried the pretense of being delicate and non-lethal. Unbelievable.

“Please enjoy.”

He was in no mood for her mind games now, and cut right through to the assumed conclusion. “I am away from the others because I wished for solitude.”

Kimigiku placed the sake down. “I did not pry for your reasons, Yamazaki-san.”

His brow furrowed with a scowl. Bringing the cup back to his face, Yamazaki studied it before swallowing its entirety. He attempted to reach for the carafe to pour his own drink but Kimigiku was faster—as always.

“You are an attentive shinobi, Yamazaki-san,” she said while tending to his next round. “Perceptive, vigilant.” When finished, Kimigiku sat back on her feet. “Committed, loyal. Vigilant. For a human, it is impressive. I have told you this once before.”

“I did not pry for your empty compliments.” A beat. “Kimigiku-san.”

“All of this,” she continued, unfazed by his mockery, “and yet you still fail to comprehend the ties that bind.”

His eyes shot to hers, knowing damn well he needed to be even more on point than ever with alcohol involved. Yamazaki’s tolerance was high, but one could never be too careful. “What are you speaking of?”

“Romance.” It was plainly stated. And when Yamazaki’s gaze averted, she moved only a breath closer to the edge of her zabuton. “You are a samurai and yet you do not know that the purest love is said to be shared between samurai?”

“Do not lecture me in bushido,” Yamazaki snapped, immediately finding her eyes and not concealing the fury her nerve inspired.

“Then why are you here alone, brooding over your commanders?”

Kimigiku’s directness had a deep stripe of blush lighting his skin from ear to ear and it made him instantly incapable of maintaining visual contact. His lips parted but no words left him, and thus, he opted to drink deeply again. When the cup lowered, she was poised, offering the next serving.

He wasn’t brooding; he was just…shocked. And disturbed. And put off, and disappointed, and maybe even furious. And none of these emotions had anything to do with Hijikata-fukucho being romantically involved with Kondo-kyokucho, or vice-versa. They had nothing to do with the fact that those same individuals were apparently in some room in this very building exalting each other in the fashion keenly specific to bonded samurai.

No, these unpleasant and unwelcome feelings Yamazaki felt were entirely aimed at himself. He was supposed to be the stalwart watchdog: the eyes and ears, the all-knowing one of the Shinsengumi. Information was the greatest asset, just as important as blades and armor, but if Kimigiku could so easily be privy to the relationship his own commanders shared when he’d had no idea, Yamazaki wondered how such a fact could have slipped right beneath his nose?

They’d lived under the same roof for so long, eaten meals together, washed up at the well together. Why had he had to learn it from Okita? Did that mean Toudo-kun knew? Harada-san, Nagakura-san? Sannan-soucho? Surely, Inoue-san knew then. And what of Shimada?

His fists tightened. How could he not have recognized it? What else was he not aware of? What more did Kimigiku know that he should?

Yamazaki pushed the sake she offered away and placed his cup down. Like hell would he express any of this to her, or anyone at all for that matter. “Leave me.” It was a cold command. “I wish to be alone.”

Kimigiku’s hand remained in the place it had been pushed and her eyes bore through him. A challenge?

“Do not believe you are capable of reading me so easily.”

She stared him down for a moment longer before a breathy laugh left her lips. Her shoulders relaxed as the sake was set down on the tray and her hand retreated along the tatami, sweeping over it deliberately before it came to rest on her thigh.

“Reading you. Yamazaki-san, I have done no such thing tonight. You wear your thoughts openly.” A beat. “But perhaps, it is the opposite. Perhaps, I am wishing for you to read me, even at this very moment. Why do you suspect I have come to you, now or at any other time?”

He remained without movement, as if his bones were comprised of rock.

Red lips pulled into a smile, one which he recognized as carrying a double meaning. “You spend your days watching, observing. But clearly, there are some things you will never understand, even when they are right before your very eyes.”

“Leave.”

Kimigiku’s hands pressed to the tatami and she pushed herself to her feet. Those hands, once again all too elegant, took hold of the upper cuff of her kimono and pushed one end off her shoulder. Yamazaki’s eyes went wide when he watched her reach behind and undo the ties, allowing the fabric to slacken about her body.

“What…?” he rasped. “What are you—?!”

The luxurious garment fell to her feet, puddling there as if it were a rag. Yamazaki leapt to stand as Kimigiku continued disrobing and pulling at her underclothes until no details were left to the imagination.

He stood there: speechless and frozen, incapable of rational thought, let alone spoken word.

Breasts. Her toned waist, the curvature of her hips and thighs and the neatly groomed hair covering what lay between.

Yamazaki’s lips opened, his mouth dry. He wanted to turn around, wanted to leave, wanted to—stop lying to himself.

Kimigiku lifted her hands and began to pull at the baubles and pins setting her hair. Locks and curls tumbled carelessly, spilling about her shoulders, her breasts, falling over her back.

“Oni are not reserved like human women.” She stepped out from the pile of adornments, lantern light dancing over her naked body. “We are not inclined to hide what we own, when we wish to put it on display.”

His chest rose and fell, undulating like storm-time ocean waves.

“Is it obvious now, Yamazaki-san?” Kimigiku asked, approaching him and taking his hand. She placed it on her breast, covered the back of it with her own, and pressed it to her soft skin. “Can you understand? Or must this humble courtesan…” Her lips twitched. “…also use her mouth, so soon?”

“You—,” It was all Yamazaki managed to grate out, a gravelly and parched word before the taste of Kimigiku flooded his senses. Her scent, her touch, the sound of her voice, the sensation of a palm pressing against the dark trousers he feared would rip from how tight they’d become.

She was no woman, no lady, no normal courtesan.

She was dangerous, too knowledgeable, too rogue. A demon, a rival, a possible enemy.

Yamazaki’s eyes rolled back.

And now she was pulling the clothes from his body.

They fell naked and entwined to the tatami, the firelight flickering from the movement, and neither making any move for the futon closet.

Because it had to be now.

Because if Yamazaki pulled himself from Kimigiku at this moment, he might have realized the mistake, the threat. He might have begun overthinking, might have run into the safety of a dark corridor. And if he ran, if he stopped her now, he might have forever lived with a regret he could never absolve himself of.

Kimigiku’s lips trailed down his stomach, her muscular arms snaking beneath his thighs and pulling them apart, giving her prime position to take his cock in her mouth. And without so much a moment of teasing, the action drew forth a sound from Yamazaki that he deemed unrecognizable.

This was real. It was happening.

She wanted him. For how long? A night, a year of nights, it didn’t matter. He wanted her. For how long? …Perhaps it was so long that it nearly made him ache? No.

This was forbidden, star-crossed as the foreigners said. It could never, would never work. They were rivals, enemies, oni and human. But also shinobi with conviction. And there they were now.

Those enchanting hands found Yamazaki’s, giving them purchase of something so not to break his own skin with how tightly he’d been clenching his fists. Kimigiku continued to hold them as she, a demon of countless expertise, continued demonstrating just how multi-talented she truly was.

The world went white, static rang in his ears. Veils fell into ash, unbreakable walls collapsed to dust. And in this state of seeing and hearing nothing other than the truth and nothing less, Yamazaki found the clarity he’d coveted after all this time—even if only for a moment.

Desires and needs, curiosities and musings, the deepest yearnings in his mind.

Kimigiku had been there all along.

And like many other things, Yamazaki had known. He’d just chosen not to see.

He opened his eyes. Shimabara had beautiful ceilings, not that he thought about them for long.

[wayward-delver]

Made in Abyss X Smash Ultimate:

(DLC Wishlist/Discussion)

This one was just for fun and shouldn’t be taken completely serious otherwise we’re all gonna lose our humanity. As much I’d love to see Made in Abyss somehow miraculously get into Smash, I am well of how impossible it is.

Ok, we all knew what was coming, no bother denying it; you joke about DLC, you might as well spill the beans and say what you really want. I’ll make it clear that of course, I don’t want Waluigi, he’s an assist trophy and at his core a rather dull character in the face of his brother. Steve holds no strong attachment from me since I do not play Minecraft and I feel like his moveset wouldn’t interesting enough to warrant my attention,(basically a 3D G&W). 

Now that’s settled with, let’s discuss who I truly want for DLC despite the stupidity of it:(Left to Right)

1.) Ratchet & Clank: This game holds a special place in my heart for being one of the first game I’ve ever played and one of the only franchises where I faithfully played through every game in the main series, even some of the spin-offs. The amazing characters, brilliant writing, great stories, fun/engaging gameplay, and vast and creatively deadly variety of weapons. I’d go on all day about why I love this series so much and why the movie disappoints me so much,(I will say the remake was fun though). Now to move potential he’s got everything a fighter can ask for: 

His omniwrench would the staple of his melee attacks on both air and ground,(with any one of his shotguns/whips as smash attacks). His dash attacks could incorporate the Razor Claws.

Recovery (Up B) is an easy pick, just use Clank heli-pack to gain sufficient height than slowly glide down for a period of several seconds over a far horizontal distance. Drawbacks being wind-up time and having no defensive qualities.

Grapples would be simple tethers and throws with Omniwrench.

Neutral B would simply a blaster shot with minimal flinch damage that continues fire if held.

Side B would definitely be his signature boomerang wrench throw, homing in on Ratchet on its return and doing decent knockback with either hit.

Down B would have clank throw of his time spheres down talk cause a 5 second AoE that slows down opponents caught in the blast while dealing zero damage or knockback.

Their Final Smash would see Ratchet calling his ship to strike his opponents, sending them hurtling into space to be bombarded by various weapons in their arsenal before getting by clank in his giant form.

Ratchet’s skins can be all of his default outfits through the serious ending with a robot version of in reference to Dr. Nefarious’s evil scheme.

The stage would be Metropolis city on Kerwan.

2.) Rayman: This one is a bit more realistic than the last one seeing the series has had strong ties with Nintendo consoles and even sporting a Rayman Spirit in-game,(take that as you will, at least it’s something). Rayman also falls under the nostalgia factor, but nowhere the extent of Ratchet since I was pretty late to the series,(My favorite game being Legends). No doubt he’s one of the higher picks among Smash players and I can see why; he’s funny, energetic, a great platformer/fighter, and has a truly unique/iconic character design. 

I’m not too familiar with the entire series though, so keep it basic with the moveset:

Rayman is a fast lightweight fighter that primarily uses melee attacks such as fast punches and kicks on both the ground and in the air. His smash attacks would be moderately slow wind-up punches and kicks with exceptional knockback and range. Dash attacks would have him spinning forwards at high speeds with little damage and knockback, but great for setting up a brief stunlock.

His grapple is a far-reaching chain arm tether with decent throwing power.

Recovery is a simple helicopter hair flight with similar mobility to Krool, but deals no damage and goes much higher.

Neutral would have him shooting burning fists at his enemies and can be charged up for increased power.

Side B has him rapidly shooting from his plunger gun, which can be a great edge guarding tool.

Down B turns one of his hands into a guided missile that will extremely powerful, leaves vulnerable to attack.

Final Smash has him uppercut the nearest players sending them to a zone where they’re dog-pilled by all his friends before unleashing a synchronized charged strike sending them flying into the stars.

The stage will be set in the Rabbids colosseum, where the audience holds signs and banners representing characters and series. 

Rayman's colors would be based on the many characters of the series.

His taunt will feature a lum.

3.) Okami, Amaterasu: Ok this is sure to please many fans since she’s quite often requested and very popular on her own. She also has a much higher chance than the rest since she’s a part of Capcom like Ryu/Megaman. Personally speaking though, I want her to join for the sake of how amazing and artistically beautiful the game the is. The mythology, characters, story, music, art style, and the gameplay just screams traditional Japanese culture/painting in the best way possible.

I list the moveset down here, but someone else already did a much better job than I ever could. @panaran

3.) Hollow Knight: Ok this steps far down in terms of likely solely because it’s an Austrailian indie game. Otherwise, this would be one of the biggest crowd pleasures in the line-up. A legendary title for its striking animation, unique world/story, deep lore, magnificent soundtrack, and memorable/diverse cast of characters. I love for all these reasons, but I truly support cause it’d represent to the newest milestone in gaming history, indie studios.

I’d go over moves again someone also solved that problem for me.

4.) Kid Icarus Viridi: Of all the characters, she has the most right to be a playable character. She and her home franchise are so deeply rooted in Smash that they literally are the commentary for the game. Don’t say no moves cause Palutena was never playable in their game, but she still got in. And about her being on a stage, Chrome is a Final Smash and piranha is a stage hazard. Mii costumes also don’t prove anything since many characters have them. This would also be the first in-person appearance she’ll make in any game, something she was denied in her in Kid Icarus Uprising. Personally, however, I want Viridi cause she’s basically the Peridot,(Steven Universe), or the Max,(Camp Camp), of Nintendo. The sassy, cynical, and destructive little gremlin that talks shit to everyone but in end is a complete tsundere with an adorable nerdy side and heart of golden amber beneath her thorny exterior. 

(Not my waifu, goddess or not, she’s a ‘child’ and I am 19, it’d be messed up)

Her moveset would be difficult to decipher since she doesn’t fight in-game, but I can draw up a few ideas

Viridi won’t be as angelic/divine as Palutena, preferring to walk and run in a more grounded manner with a trail of plants sprouting behind her as she moves. She’ll be one of the lightest characters in-game due to her small stature, making her very nimble but easy to launch.

She’ll be more we versed in melee than Palutena, incorporating her staff/agility into her fighting style. Using many fast and disjointed blows at once like Mii swordfighter, but her smash attacks would instead unleash vines from the ground that would strike opponents.

Her grapple would be a vine tether she could use to constrict/launch enemies.

Her Recovery would be another vine tether that goes farther and does higher damage than Ivysaur.

Neutral B she’d fire a lightning blast at her opponents,(a reference to her ally Phosphora).

Side B Viridi would slash forward sending a small twister that can launch enemies,(Slower and larger Mii Sword)

Down B is a parry using Clobbler in a similar manner to Toad.

Final Smash is, of course, a rush down that sends foes into ground-zero of a Reset Bomb strike.

Taunts will be her making witty remarks and poses, often times waving her staff around like a wand.

So that’s my wishlist, do you like and if you have a character for smash. By all means, share it with me in the chat or reblog.

[soundofseventeen]

The Great Escape (Joshua Hong)

My longest fic to date and it had to be the boy I can’t stand lmao and predebut at that. I own nothing! -Bee

Word count: ~7000

Based on: The Great Escape, his audition

Joshua smiled at your annoyed ranting, clearly finding humor in the day’s escapade that set you off all while enjoying the popcorn you managed to snag for him after your shift at the theater. While he couldn’t decipher if your groans were louder than the LA traffic, Joshua found amusement in the way you got everything out of your system. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re finding this funny. If I wanted to work with animals, I would’ve applied at the zoo.” You wrinkled your nose. “And please step a little bit away from me. No offense, but you smell.”

At that, your best friend shoved his hand into the bag, threw the kernels at you, and proceeded to rub his greasy uniform on yours, which elicited a smile and a squeal of protest from you. “Find me a better job than McDonald’s and then I can stop.”

“But that involves work.”

“Would you rather have me smell like deep-fried oil the rest of my life?”

“It’s better than picking up after people...don’t look at me like that; you’re supposed to feel sorry for me, not the other way around.” You held your hand out and he readily shrugged out of his backpack, digging through his homework and other school paraphernalia until he found his water bottle and tossed it to you, all while grumbling how you had no respect for him, so you squirted it at him and walked in front of him, which made him indirect you louder.

“What? Is there something you wanna tell me?!”

“No, nothing at all.”

“I don’t wanna go home yet. Can we go have dinner and then go? It’s the same routine day in and day out.”

Joshua smiled at you again, though the setting sun made it a little hard to see it. “And where does Your Highness wanna go? We are broke teenagers who can barely afford a meal even with these jobs.”

You grabbed his wrist, ready to cut through an alleyway in search of food. “Leave that to me.”

*

Joshua’s most annoying habit wasn’t that he chewed loudly or that he was rude to the waitstaff (but any of those would’ve been if he had them), but rather how he savored his food. It didn’t matter if he was on the brink of starvation or had somewhere else to be in 10 minutes, he enjoyed his meal and no one could rush him to finish it. He made small talk here and there but preferred to keep quiet, and from past experiences, you knew the frustration whenever he’d say he had something to tell you. 

You watched him delicately twirl the spaghetti around his fork and bringing it to his lips, blowing on the noodles before biting into it and then wiping the nonexistent marinara sauce that had been leftover, and repeating the process. Your fries were long gone and instead of starting on the chicken tenders in front of you, you were equal parts amused and exasperated at how slowly he was eating. 

“I’m gonna be celebrating my birthday here by the time you’re done,” you joked.

“Don’t worry about me; worry about your food. Who’s the one who gets mad if it’s not warm?” Ever so slowly, he reached for his soda, almost dropping it from the condensation on the cup, and sipped it, all while not breaking eye contact with you as if daring you to fire back a retort. Being at a loss for words, you scowled at him and choosing to eat while it was indeed warm.

The quiet of the evening soon became a bit too rowdy to your liking when screaming fans were seated left and right. The downside of living in LA was that there was always a concert somewhere and the controlled loudness became chaotic. Tonight, it seemed that One Direction played at the Forum because that’s where most of the conversations stemmed from, ranging from tired parents listening to their children replay the night to the young adults talking about their favorite part of the concert. The various ringtones pinged left and right and it felt like you were at the front row because “OH MY GOD THEY TWEETED!!!” and tears flowed while they tried not to choke from the water to soothe their hoarse throats. 

“Are you ready to go?” Joshua asked kindly. He was nowhere near finished, but for the sake of your sanity, preferring to eat on the way home.  He waved the waiter over, who simply apologized for any inconveniences (to which Joshua smiled and said that it was no problem), and brought the to go boxes. He bid you both a nice night and you chose to walk home, despite it being quite a ways away. He liked walking behind you for reasons unknown, especially when it came down to eating. “People are crazy, huh?” 

“I don’t mean this in a bad way, but I don’t get how people, girls especially, go nuts over boybands. You’d think they’d never heard music before.” You turned around, risking to walk backward for the sake of stealing some leftover spaghetti.

“I mean, it must be a different experience to be able to go on stage and sing. It’d be nice, don’t you think?”

“I think you’ve been holding out on me with this spaghetti.” You reached for more but Joshua surprised you by closing it on you. “Asshole.” He grabbed your shirt sleeve and yanked you to the side so you wouldn’t walk into a pole. “I take that back.” You turned around again, back facing him. “So a celebrity life, huh? I never pictured you as the type to want something like that.” Granted, he usually brought his guitar outside to the front yard when it was you two hanging out and he sang sometimes. It wasn’t all that great per se, but he had that potential that he could be. 

“I think it’s just something bigger than this everyday life. You know you’re changing lives and vice versa.” He stared past you as if envisioning the lifestyles of the rich and the famous. 

You smiled at him, not wanting to break his reverie. You weren’t one to crush dreams, let alone his and you weren’t about to start now. Instead, you took his plate and stuffed your face with his dinner, making a silent promise to make it up to him. Anytime you spent with him was always your favorite, even if you were irritated after a long day.

*

Weekends normally meant catching up on everything you neglected throughout the week, be it a book you had started reading, a paper that needed writing or even just running an errand as a favor to one of your parents. One of the downsides of living in LA, however, were the tourists who had no idea what they were getting themselves into by deciding to visit the area (thus getting lost, overwhelmed or both) and the locals who complained about them. You weren’t fond of either but what could you do besides sucking it up? Even with that hold up, you managed to finish earlier than planned and rather than heading home, you decided to visit the Hong household. 

One of your favorite things about visiting was seeing Joshua’s grandpa planting something right in plain view and seeing his grandmother watching reruns of Korean movies or shows from her younger days inside. They usually spent their days looking after the house while Joshua’s parents worked and well, no one had anything to say about it (but even if there were, any objections would be handled with a smack to the arm with a dishrag.) You were no exception to the rule or any in general, given with all the time you spent with Joshua. That meant you also learned a lot of things from Korean to its table etiquette but you still struggled with the former.

Joshua wasn’t home when you got there, and neither were his grandparents so it was just you and his parents making small talk and catching each other up on your lives, Joshua’s mom yelling out her inputs from the kitchen fixing a broken sink while his dad’s comments faded into an echo because he was putting the sheets back on his bed and you leaning against the counter, sipping your soda, telling them about the latest treasure you found in your closet: an Eeyore stuffed animal that hadn’t seen the light of day in years as a gift from Joshua after spending your second Christmas together (he liked to tease you that you had similar personalities.), a binder that contained two spelling tests and a worksheet on improper fractions that had sealed your fates from acquaintances to actual friends, and notes that had managed to not get confiscated in middle school.

A while later, the three missing people walked in just as you finished helping Joshua’s mom put some dishes away, Grandpa holding most, if not all, of the bags, Joshua walking behind him with his grandma, arms looped and walking at her pace. “And that is why we go out to the market every Saturday,” she raved to her grandson who listened earnestly. “Sure everything is a little bit more pricey, but it’s as close to the real Korean food as you can get. It reminds me of my days as a little girl.”

“The fact that you remember your time alive during the Great Depression astounds me,” his grandpa joked, which earned him a slap to the shoulder. “I’m kidding. But she’s right. Don’t forget your roots Jisoo. Nothing is greater than home.” He smiled at you when he noticed you in the room. “And you? How are you?”

“Yah!” His grandma cut in, arms wide open, “Are you too good for this family now that you have a job? You don’t even stop by and say hello anymore. How do you know that we didn’t get sick or something?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“After coming by for so many years and you think we won’t miss you. As your punishment, you’re helping me make Bulgogi. Now don't just stand there, wash your hands and let’s get started.”

“Actually Grandma, why don’t you go take a rest? You’ve been up all morning. I can help Y/N with that.”

She looked at him and then she looked at you, making you feel more like a murder suspect than a helping hand. “You better come to me when you finish making the sauce. If it isn’t good, you will start again.”

“Yes halmeoni,” you saluted her, simultaneously flashing her a smile and getting straight to work. You chopped the vegetables while Joshua prepped the sauce, exchanging the morning stories of your time apart. 

His escapades involved throwing a lone french fry at a seagull and following him around and almost attacking him when it saw he didn’t have anymore and seeing someone getting arrested for graffitiing gang signs on a wall. He snorted when you told him you almost got run over by a family bike riding on your way to the post office and choked on the barbecue sauce he was tasting when you remembered about the poor soul strung out on some kinda drug and fighting a bush, rambling nonsense about the government. 

“Here, try this beh peuh,” he said, holding out his stirring spoon and dabbing a bit of sauce on your hand. “What do you think?”

You made a face at his concoction, searching for your soda. “I think you put too much of the sesame seeds and not enough salt. Wow, that’s gross.”

“You obviously have no taste. It tastes perfect.”

“No, you just don’t know how to make this.” You pushed him out of the way, filling the blender with the missing spices and throwing some of the barbecue in. “And you call yourself a master chef.”

“I learned from my grandma.”

“I learned from your grandma too and it doesn’t taste anything like this. Fill it up to here with water and mix it until you can’t see any of the garlic. Then mix it back in.”

“No,” he crossed his arms. “It’s fine like this.”

 “Joshua Hong, if we serve this sad lunch, you will be disowned from your own family and so will I because I let you do it. Trust me this time.”

“Grandma!” He called out to the head chef of the family. “You’re our mediator. Is this good? I think so but Y/N says I’ll no longer be associated with the family. Try it.” He walked over to where she sat on her favorite recliner, a Korean game show playing on the TV and fed it to her.

“Dear boy, I wouldn’t feed this to the dogs out on the street. Try again.” A few minutes he brought her a modified version of everything you added to it. “It tastes the same,” she shook her head. “It’s not hard to make this, children. If I have to get up and make it myself, you’ll be sorry.”

“What does she know?” Joshua mumbled to you. “She lost her sense of taste years ago.” 

You held back a laugh, grabbing his shoulder to keep your composure, completely missing the look the lady in question she threw in your direction before she called her husband. It was another memory for the books, especially when he finally admitted defeat and said you knew better. As punishment, you made him wash the dishes you used and smiled when you heard him finally turn on the radio and sing along to every hit song he knew, sounding off key here and there but pleasant nonetheless.

*

In the next couple of weeks, you saw neither head nor tail of your best friend, other than his occasional social media post which was fine by you. It was the time of year where his church held fundraisers and carnivals and anything that required massive amounts of people. Some he did willingly; others because he couldn’t say no. He stopped inviting you with him long ago when you started picking up excuses from working a couple extra hours to helping some long lost relative who was recovering from surgery, but he had his grandmother and he even gloated that she made better company than you did so it wasn’t a complete loss, his performances being the only exception.

And if you didn’t ask for more hours and go straight to bed after work, you would’ve marched up his front steps, barged through his front door, and confronted him about this calamity because how dare he ignore his best friend?! (But you started wondering where everyone was when you had knocked on the door and no one answered. The weeds growing in the garden and the pile of mail in their mailbox also raised your questions and anxiety. And you didn’t wanna think the worst when you found the spare key in your room and went back, only to find a clean and obviously vacant home.)

You made mental notes to tell him about the newest movies you thought he’d like and also saved some money to treat him to dinner since you had long ago picked up that he wasn’t in the greatest of moods after being gone after so many days. 

After 23 days since his last interaction, he skidded back into your life three minutes after you clocked out, having hung up on a friend had canceled some plans last minute. “Hi?” You took in the sight of his Winnie the Pooh PJs, disheveled hair and the throw blanket in his hand, all the questions rushing through your head. 

“I need to tell you something,” he said without preamble. “Can we go have dinner or something? I just got off the plane and came straight here, My treat.” He smiled at you hopefully. 

About an hour later, you stared at him as he slowly cut off a piece of his steak, while you impatiently bounced your leg for his news. You didn’t even know what you ordered but you ate it anyway, stabbing your fork into it and shoveling it in your mouth. “What have you been up to?” He asked, trying to make conversation. A quiet night in a Los Angeles restaurant was uncommon and he seemed to wanna fill the silence. He smiled at himself when he saw your jaw drop and fighting to not give him a well deserved sarcastic remark.

“Same old, same old. Wreck-It Ralph came out the other day and I was thinking we could watch it soon. I begged my coworkers to not let me go into the theaters where it showed because I don’t wanna see the credits. The scary movies look dumb so I won’t bother with those.” You burned your tongue on the fork having kept it in the hot food for a little too long so you pushed your plate away, resorting to tapping your fingers on the table. If Joshua noticed, he didn’t comment. 

“Is it sad?” He knew he was drawing out the suspense more than he had to but he was looking for the words, how to phrase it, and steeling himself for your reactions.

“A lot of people left crying,” you responded, thinking of all the strangers who you saw drying their eyes or blowing their noses. You decided if you kept talking, he would share his news with you sooner, so you went ahead and told him about the petty thefts around town, upcoming concerts you wanted to go to, rumors that you heard and celebrities that you had confirmed were in the area. He listened as he ate, not really making comments. He nodded here and there to show you he was paying attention, but he himself remained mum on what he wanted to talk to you about.

“Are you ready to go or do you have room for dessert?” He eyed your plate of food, surprised that you ate more than he expected, given he put you more on edge the longer he prolonged everything.

“Joshua,” you groaned, “just cut to the chase. I can’t take it anymore. Tell me!” You stopped momentarily. “You’re not going to prison, are you? No, wait...you got someone pregnant.” You snapped your fingers. “You ran away and they found you somewhere in Mexico City, where you joined a banda, and you were playing at a quinceanera.”

“You need to stop watching so much TV.” He let out a small laugh. “So dessert?”

“If I say yes, will you tell me already?”

“It’s your choice.”

“Joshua!”

“I’m serious. If you wanna stay and eat more, we can. Or if you wanna go anywhere else, we can and I’ll tell you either way. It’s just...I don’t know how you might take it, so I want to make sure you’re comfortable.”

“Is it that bad?” you asked after a moment of silence. The worst thoughts raced through your head. He looked good, a little tired maybe, but he seemed healthy and in good spirits.

“No, but...it could change our lives and I’d like your opinion on what I should do.”

*

You ended up in a park with kids practicing for an upcoming softball game, so you had to walk a good distance to not get distracted at the noise. You sat on some swings, barely rocking from the movements, letting your feet drag on the wood chips as you watched the joggers pass, counting three people with the same pink sweater and seven walking their dogs. Joshua had yet to say a word and at this point, you were afraid to ask him anything. Instead, you enjoyed his company, feeling grateful that despite whatever he had to say, he still managed to elicit a calming presence. 

“So, I went to a thing with my church in San Diego,” he finally began, staring out at whatever beyond he was picturing in his head. “And from there we hit most of Southern California until we had one final thing to do here. And after one of my performances, a scout from South Korea came up to me. He said I had what to takes to make it big over there. At first, I wasn’t interested because it seemed too good to be true. But then he offered us some plane tickets to go visit the studio and see for ourselves and, you know.”

You nodded, finally understanding and easing the pent up anxiety. “That’s where you guys were all this time. I thought you up and left town or something.”

“We did and got to see a lot of- they’re called trainees working to debut and they seemed nice. One of them gave me their number so we could stay in touch. His name was Jeonghan. I also got to meet one of their singers who goes by Bumzu and he does a lot of other neat things too. And a boy group called Nu’est who debuted earlier this year. They sound really good. We can check them out on YouTube later if you want.”

“So when do you leave?” You could already feel the food turning in your stomach, ignoring the last part of his suggestion. It’s not that you didn’t want him to pursue his dream, but you couldn’t imagine him not being by your side and vice versa to see each other completing your milestones...together. That’s what your friendship consisted of: being together. 

“Oh, um about that. I told them I’d think about it. It seems like there’s a catch to it. I’m not 100% sold.” He dug into his pajama pants and pulled out a business card from his wallet and handed you a business card with information from a Pledis Entertainment. You frowned at the Hangul, concentrating on translating it while he continued speaking. “They gave me this in case I changed my mind but I should do it soon because they have a deadline coming up.” He paused his swinging. “What do you think I should do?”

“I...I don’t think this is a decision I can make for you.” 

“But you’re a big enough influence that’d help me decide.” He resumed kicking his feet. “If you want me to go and see the hype of an idol life, tell me and I’ll go. If you don’t want me to go and make a fool of myself because I flew out for nothing, tell me and I’ll stay.” 

“From what you’re telling me,” you said slowly, picking your words carefully, “I don’t know if you should. I mean I could be wrong, but what if something goes wrong over there and you’re by yourself? Or if all the hard work you’re gonna put in doesn’t pay off? You, of all people, deserve to have your dreams come true and to see you come back because it doesn’t work out? I don’t know if I could bear to see your face looking so sad. But in the end, it’s your choice.” It felt wrong to tell him those words, but you couldn’t lie to him, but you couldn’t tell him how selfish you could be.

The foundation of your friendship might not have been cemented with the glorious days of playing in the sandbox; rather it was due to him seeing you struggle with your spelling words during the weekly test and him sliding his paper to the side so you could see the words and then retaking it after school in separate classrooms because you’d gotten caught. And when you mixed that with spending lunch recess with your teacher to help him with converting fractions to decimals and percentages, it seemed like a recipe for a lifetime of memories, especially when you added the permission on both sides of the parental figures to go to each other’s houses. It seemed like there was nothing you couldn’t conquer as you got older.

“Don’t worry,” he smiled at you, “I didn’t put too much thought into it either. It’s a long shot and they were asking for too much anyways.” 

“They were gonna charge you just to audition?” What kinda high class-

“No, they asked for my diploma.”

“You fucking idiot.”

*

No matter how hard you tried not to see, you always managed to catch Joshua staring at the business card on the fridge and it ate you up with guilt even though it was his decision too. You caught the lingering looks and how he’d shake his head as if shaking away an image and facing you with a smile. And when his Korean friend Jeonghan began Skyping him to show him how everything was going, you always swore you’d see a flicker of regret cross his features as Joshua laughed along and reassured him that life was great here and even showed him the things he managed to find at the Korean markets that apparently he couldn’t find anywhere else. He started looking into colleges and another part-time job to pass the time and all you could do was simmer in the turmoil because he chose not to speak of it. “It’s for the best, Y/N,” was all he’d say.

The days passed, with the deadline rapidly approaching and his mood dropped subtly, often tuning you out and playing his music or movie to drown the silence and his misery. His family didn’t seem too concerned at his choice but let him ride it out because he’d get over it soon. 

He finally asked you to come to an evening mass with his family because he’d be giving a small performance and because you knew he needed all the support, you agreed, saying you’d be at the front door waiting for them, for him. So, in the most presentable (and uncomfortable) clothes you owned, you sat first-row front and center with his grandma and several people you didn’t know waiting for the priest to finish his sermon and let your best friend do his thing, which he did.

One of your favorite things about seeing Joshua play the guitar? Seeing the way his eyes literally sparkled every time someone saw him play. You’d seen it multiple times even when he practiced with just you in the room and it never failed to take your breath away. The way his fingers moved effortlessly through the chords and the way he focused solely on the words coming from his mouth. You weren’t immune to those charms, what with the way your hands would get clammy and your heart would pound and you just looked at him in awe because he normally didn’t have that effect on you. 

You looked around the pews, seeing his audience with similar reactions. A lot of them held out their phones, recording and singing along; others for some reason dabbed their eyes because apparently, an angel had blessed them that day. You saw his parents looking proud at their son and trying to hide their smiles as those around them sang their praise at Joshua’s talent. 

As for you? You knew what you had to do and the thought had you wiping your eyes frantically to avoid breaking down. You flashed him a thumbs-up as he finished and he nodded his thanks. He normally stayed behind his parents after mass but he figured you needed to get dressed into something that didn’t make you wanna claw out of your skin, so after taking you home to change and after grabbing a quick dinner from McDonald’s and enjoying it as the last rays of the day came to a close and the night making it feel later than it should’ve.

“When did you get so good?” You asked him. “Last time I heard you, your voice cracked. A lot.”

“Practice,” he shrugged modestly. “I couldn’t have done that without YouTube and their tutorials. And you? When did you decide to come to church without an excuse?”

“When you said you wanted me to come.” You took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking.” “About?” He asked his mouthful of food, something really unlike him. The small thing must’ve boosted his spirits and it showed. “It must be really scary if you’re telling me. Let me guess. You’re gonna storm the Bastille next time you get a day off? Or are you finally gonna head off to a college far from here? I guess LA isn’t too crazy for you after all.”

“Joshua, I want you to audition.” Before he could say anything else, you continued, wanting to get everything out before you took everything back. “I want you to go for this because it’s your dream. You don’t belong in just one place, you belong everywhere. I shouldn’t have told you not to do it. Seeing you tonight, I know that now. I’m not scared of you coming back because you failed. I’m scared of seeing you turning down this opportunity and you not seeing what you can do. I don’t want your biggest regret to be staying here. If anything, your biggest regret should be meeting me.”

He missed your attempt of a joke, staying quiet for a moment, letting your words sink in before he gave you the biggest smile you didn’t realize you missed until you saw it. A few minutes later, you found yourselves in his room, him introducing himself to the camera and you behind it, capturing his every moment. The ache in your heart seemed different as you heard him sing, feeling ashamed for wanting to keep him from this and feeling proud for putting your pride to the side and letting him have this.

You knew that no one in your life deserved a fighting chance more than Hong Jisoo, and whatever the outcome, you couldn’t have been more proud of him because he gave it his all. When his parents returned home for the night, you kept your composure long enough to say your goodbyes and went home a crying mess because you already missed him.

*

The main menu on the TV replayed the anime’s theme song and you swore you’d be hearing t in your sleep tonight. Joshua swore he was only a few pages away from finishing the manga of the same way and then you could start the series. For the last week, he had tried to be productive balancing work and home, with just getting by in school. But apparently, his inner nerd and his friend Jeonghan didn’t let him focus on anything other than the book currently occupying his hands. You remembered not so long ago how you threw a pillow at him because you had long ago finished it and were about to start it but he begged you to wait for him to read it so you could watch it together and why you agreed was beyond you. You finished the last of your water, looking up at the ceiling in hopes to make the time go by faster but all you could hear was Joshua’s gasps of surprise and the pages turning. It felt like years when he finally finished and his punishment, you threw the empty water bottle at him and told him to press play because if you didn’t watch it soon, you’d explode and you had to be at work soon and you wouldn’t be able to handle the anticipation of not starting now.

You got up to grab some chips in the kitchen, seeing as though your best friend wasn’t pressing play anytime soon. “You want anything?” Silence. “Joshua!” Nothing. “Then starve.” But you grabbed a bag just for him because you knew he’d want some. He was still engrossed at whatever he was seeing on his phone, the only difference was the shit-eating grin on his face. “Why so happy?”

“I got my diploma.” 

“Okay and?” 

“You asked,” he shrugged. “But since you wanna know, I can get ahead on any credits I choose so I can get into a good college and I can graduate early. But also I don’t have to wake up early anymore.”

“When did you get so smart?” You tossed the bag of Doritos at him, hitting him in the face and doing your victory pose. “Now press play. If I have to wait longer to watch this I’m gonna die. Jisoo Joshua Hong, are you even listening to me anymore?” You sat down next to him to see what rendered him speechless.

Instead of answering you, he showed you an email from none other than Pledis, the smile on his face not faltering. “I-they accepted me. Y/N, I have a shot! Oh my god, this is amazing! I have to call Jeonghan! We’re gonna train together! It’ll be so good to have someone I know there. He’s gonna be so happy when he hears-hey, are you okay?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. You could feel the prickling in your eyes but whether they’d be tears of sadness or happiness remained unclear. On the one hand, he could live his dream, make millions of people happy even if for just a moment, like he deserved. You knew the effect he had on people and others needed to experience that if they ever got to know how annoying and he could be. On the other, you couldn’t be by his side like you’ve always planned to. You’d have to support him from afar. You wouldn’t be able to see him every day anymore. You’d probably fade away to strangers who’d only get in contact with each other if he ever came home since you knew you couldn’t afford plane tickets to South Korea and what if you weren’t in the same area if you were in the same state? That alone caused you to cry, hating yourself for being upset at the news. 

“Beh peuh, you forget how much I know you. Do you not want me to go?”

“I do, but what about us and this friendship? What if you forget everything here once you’re this big celebrity idol? You’ve been my best friend for so long and it's too late to find someone to replace you.” You tried to find humor in the situation but failing to do so. You didn’t want anyone who wasn’t him. You knew no one else would tolerate your impulsive dining out or walking all through LA no matter the distance or even being at home with no concrete plans for the day. “I’m sorry, I should go. I have to get ready to go to work.” You stood up, and all but ran to the door, the anime long forgotten and not bothering to listen to your best friend calling out your name.

*

Staying out past midnight to close up wasn’t exactly something you prided yourself on. If anything, you were out the door by or before dusk set it but you needed a distraction, anything to forget the nagging of your day’s problem. It surprised you nonetheless when you saw Joshua waiting for you patiently as if it was another day. He smiled at you, not saying a word, instead waiting for you to say something. You wished you could’ve avoided him so you could gather your thoughts and think rationally rather than emotionally. 

You walked aimlessly for a while, no one saying anything until the silence became unbearable. “I’m sorry,” you finally told him. “I want you to know how happy I am for you. Really I am, and I’m sorry if it looks like I’m trying to keep you from that. It’s just that when I see you, I think how we’re not gonna be together anymore doing things. Like I won’t complain to you about who pissed me off or you won’t tell me about that lady from church who always makes you laugh. I wanna be there the days you sell out arenas and buying tickets to see you perform, not just hear about it. It won’t be the same anymore.” You cursed yourself for already wanting to cry again. 

“I get you. You’re a major part of my life too. But Y/N, it’s not set in stone if I’ll even get to do this. Maybe I’ll be there halfway through and they’ll decide I don’t fit a mold they have and I need to come home. Or maybe I’ll decide that this isn’t what I thought I wanted. You’ve always asked me to trust you, so now I’m asking you to. Can you do that for me? Good,” he said when you nodded. “Now there’s something I wanna ask you.”

“Oh my god, is this the part where you tell me you’ve been in love with me for as long as you can remember?” Your eyes widened in horror. 

His actions mirrored yours. “Please stop reading every friends to lovers book you come across. You will ruin other friendships like that. Now listen. You can breathe, oh for the love of- Y/N, I’m leaving in two weeks and I need to know if you wanna come with me.”

You pointed to yourself when the words sank in and you were able to get your brain working again. “Me? You want me, an inexperienced idiot to fly off with you to an unknown country while you’re there. Why?”

“Truthfully, I want you there too. My friend Jeonghan said it happened with his friend Aron from Nu’est, only he went as the supportive friend, but I know you’re not interested in stealing my spotlight. They provided the extra ticket even though I said we could pay for it...but only if you wanted to.”

“How long am I supposed to stay?”

“As long as you want to ride it out with me. What do you say beh peuh? Are you- no. Can you take this chance with me?”

*

You exed down the last full day, the butterflies in your stomach ever-present as ever. Joshua looked at you with the eagerness in his face since he found out about the audition. His room, once a place of endless homework hours and weekend movie marathons was now mostly baron, except with clean sheets on his bed. His closet was now empty of everything he owned, having gotten a head start with shipping to the new country. It was nothing but a place of memories, both good and bad, but nothing you would ever change about it. At this time tomorrow, he’d be an official Pledis trainee, and with that thought, often came a swelling in your heart that made it hard to pass your throat. The last thing he needed to do today was return his McDonald’s uniform and pick up the payday, all of which you accompanied him. 

Considering it was the last day, you did many things from shopping for groceries for your homes and enjoying the last few moments. You even went to his church to watch get his blessing from the priest who bade him a safe trip and a prosperous future. He spent some time with his old friends that weren’t you, but not really saying why he was leaving for the homeland his grandparents loved so much. You cried throughout the day every time you realized you wouldn’t do this again anymore, but it was another memory for the books. Joshua spent the few hours at home, eating dinner with his family and triple-checking he had everything ready for the long flight ahead. You often loved countdowns but there was something bittersweet about this one, especially because of all the goodbyes involved. 

It was a little after midnight when you met him in his front yard, breathing heavily as you made your way to the main streets of Los Angeles, ready to change the last of your lives. One last night causing mayhem to remember the way it felt when Joshua’s mischievous side came out. 

You watched him climb on a shopping cart and begged you to push him across the parking lot, which you did because no one knew who you guys were, except teenagers having fun until the security chased you out and starting your next misadventure. You made peace with your pasts in an empty ice cream parlor, shoveling spoonfuls of ice cream like shots for every question you didn’t have an answer to and spilling secrets you didn’t know the other had. 

You passed tons of nightclubs afterward, laughing for no reason other than because they all played the same songs and because the smell of weed flooded everywhere. You walked on the walk of fame, waving at random cars passing by because for all you knew it could be their last day here too, and pointing at the museums you wished you would’ve gone to more times despite the prices. You enjoyed the quiet moments with Joshua too every time you sat on a bench to get some rest. 

You didn’t plan on staying out the whole night but somehow you did and when you went back to his house, the first few rays of the morning sun were starting to show. His family was already waiting for him, luggage in tow and ready to go. The drive to LAX felt like it went too fast despite the never-ending traffic and soon you were there, watching him say his last goodbyes to his parents for the time being, and then it was your turn to do the same. 

 He looked over at you, putting his arm around you and hugging you close. You could see how tired he was from the night out but he also never looked happier. 

“Are you ready to go?” You asked him.

“With you by my side? Let’s do this.” As you walked through immigration, a million thoughts swirled in your head, but one thing remained certain: with having Joshua at your side, you’d never feel more free or alive than now at this moment. Two best friends ready to see how much more your lives would change with The Great Escape.

[thebeethathums]

Observers - 39

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

A/n: I got really into this case guys... You don't even know. It was so trivial in my head and then all the sudden blam it turned into a really complex interconnected thing. Anyways... the two paintings are actually from the Musee d'Orsay have some links if you'd like:

Rouen Cathedral in Morning Light  and La Seine à Port-Villez

John couldn’t help but grin as you literally danced into The National Gallery, giving a little twirl before letting out the most content sigh. You were a hard and incredibly devoted worker but he knew you hated that type of work, it made you feel boxed in, bored, and dull. For you, this was not only a moment of excitement but of much-needed freedom as well. Sherlock set a hand on your shoulder to reign you in before you wandered off down some hall and got lost. He got the feeling it would be hours before they found you again if that happened and a grateful look from John confirmed it as you wiggled a little under his hand.

They’d briefed you in the cab on the way over, explaining that they had identified the three people that were murdered as leading art experts all focused in the field of impressionism. Once they had done that, the note left with the bodies made sense and led them to a set of paintings by Monet on loan to The National Gallery by the Musée d'Orsay in Paris that included two newly discovered paintings that had been unveiled just months before. That’s where they were now- one of the five paintings was a fake, it was just a matter of determining which. You had protested to Sherlock that you were hardly an expert, sure Monet was one of your favorite artists and you were a painter but that didn’t mean you’d be able to spot the difference between a fake and the real deal, but for some reason, he insisted you look at them. Lestrade and the curator looked up when the three of you walked in, your eyes going wide as you looked around the room with a gleeful grin- so much better than being stuck in the café. Sherlock released you and you gave Lestrade a small, distracted wave as you moved past him to stand in front a painting you knew well, ignoring the conversation that had begun behind you. You tilted your head, letting your eyes wander over the pale blues and yellows of one of Monet’s many paintings of Rouen Cathedral, this particular one depicting the soft light of morning. It was one of your favorites. You would need to go over every inch of each painting to be absolutely certain of which was the fake so why not start here?

It had only been a few minutes when you were pulled from your study by raised voices behind you, the curator arguing loudly with Sherlock and Lestrade over your qualifications, or lack thereof, and without turning you snapped, “Either shut it or get the sod out. You’re messing with my concentration.” They fell silent and you went back to what you were doing before you were so rudely interrupted as John snickered, “I told you she’d notice.” Time passed slowly for Sherlock and the others as you spent hours in front of each painting, night slowly creeping in while you shifted from painting to painting, sometimes sitting on the floor but mostly just standing. By the time you got to the last two paintings, the curator had left, Lestrade had stepped out to get coffee and stretch his legs, and John was sitting against a wall, napping, next to Sherlock who was deep in thought with his hands folded under his chin. You gave a soft yawn and stretched your arms above your head as you moved to the last painting, the noise making both of their eyes snap open and Sherlock gestured for John to go get him some coffee. John opened his mouth to tell him to get it himself but Sherlock pressed a finger to his lips, his eyes flicking to you and back as John narrowed his own eyes at him in annoyance. He decided he could use some air anyways and got up to do as Sherlock wanted, leaving the two of you alone in the room. Sherlock went to you, wrapping his arms around your middle and resting his chin on your shoulder causing you to tense slightly but you didn’t push him away. The last week had been surprisingly hard on Sherlock, even when he was distracted by the case he found himself missing you. At first, it was just that he’d grown used to your presence and it threw him off a little that you were gone but as the week wore on he began to miss little things that he had never really thought about before. The sound of you humming as you made tea, the way your tongue peeked out of your mouth when your sketches got more detailed, the quick sarcastic comments that so easily mingled with his own- he missed it all. As annoying as it was, he found it interesting that he’d spent his entire life without you and now, after only a week of you being gone, he was miserable. Love was turning out to be a more complex emotion than he’d originally thought. You suddenly let out a sigh and your hand came up to tangle in his hair as you turned your head to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. He kept his arms around you but stood straight to let you turn and lean into his chest with another soft yawn as he thrummed, “What do you see?” A wave of disappointment washed over him when you pulled away and moved back to the third painting, The Seine at Port-Villez, standing in front of it for a moment before stating, “The logical choice would have been one of the two new pieces as they would be much easier to duplicate and switch out without someone noticing yet from what I can see there is nothing wrong with either of them. So that leaves the older pieces- I have seen these three works a number of times over the years, enough to know them well, and there’s something about this one that’s off... also, the more I think about it the more it’s the perfect piece for someone to switch out with a fake.” “Explain.” he murmured as he wound around you from behind again, this time with his cheek against the top of your head. “It’s well known but not as popular as say... his lily pads, medium sized so not as carefully scrutinized as something smaller or as time-consuming as something bigger, and conservatively worth over ten million on the black market.” You stepped away from him again, moving so you were just inches from the canvas before giving a soft hum, “This one is a fake and... I know who painted it.” “You do?” John’s voice rang out behind the two of you as he walked in, just in time to hear your statement but miss the moment of affection from Sherlock, and you spun to nod, “I almost missed it… it’s been a while since I’ve seen one of his paintings, but hidden in one of the trees in a clever shade of muted green is his signature, just two letters-TA for Timothy Ares.” “Timothy Ares…” Sherlock said the name as if he was trying to deduce something about its owner simply from what he was called and John came over to press a very welcome cup of tea into your hands, “How do you know him, Squeak?” You plopped down cross-legged on the floor, giving your legs a rest as you sipped at your tea, “He was one of my flatmates when I first moved to Montmartre, we shared a studio for a bit too. You met him when you came to visit once… kind of a lanky bloke with a shock of chestnut hair that flopped over one eye- if memory serves it was flecked with streaks of white when you saw him.” John was looking to the ceiling in thought and then nodded with a chuckle, “Oh! I remember him… he’s the one who got caught by the authorities in only his pink pants when you broke into that pool in the middle of the night.” “That would be the one,” you confirmed, giving a little laugh at the memory.

After a moment of thought, you looked up at Sherlock, who was standing with his eyes closed, and firmly stated, “He wouldn’t do this. Not unprovoked. He has great respect for the work of others.”

“Do you still have contact with him?” John wondered aloud.

“I do.”

“Call him.” Sherlock demanded and you shook your head, “I can do you one better. He’s in London. Phoned me two days ago to see if we could meet up but I was busy so he told me where he was staying in case I had some free time.”

Sherlock abruptly stalked out and you and John exchanged a glance, scrambling to catch up with him after he poked his head back in and called, “Don’t laze about.”

Tags <3:

@team-free-sherlock @multifandom-ramblings @madshelily @severusminerva @yes-but-theyre-my-dorks @smitemewiththysherlock @not-fandom-addicted @unknownwonder @deducingdevil @aviien @mrsfrankensteinsworld @lolamurphy @bakerstreethound @musical-doll-x @protectteamfreewill @delightful-pirate

@lilcutekittykat

[ssromanogers]

A Night at the Ballet

To: @soliloquy-of-nemo

From: @teyriantimelord10

My Romanogers Secret Santa gift for @soliloquy-of-nemo, who asked for a ballet!AU in which Natasha is a Prima Ballerina, Tony is her patron, and Steve is Tony’s lawyer. Enjoy!

A Night at the Ballet

  “You have to come out with us,” Tony practically begged. “These are the best seats in the whole theater and you’ve been killing yourself for months over this case. Consider it a Christmas bonus!”

  “I can’t, Tony. I have too much work to do for the next hearing,” Steve replied bluntly as he finished putting the rest of his files back in their correct folders.

  “Come out with us tomorrow night or you’re fired.”

  Steve slammed his briefcase shut and gave Tony a death glare that they both knew could break a hostile witness in half, but the billionaire only took a sip of his whiskey and smirked back. The Rogers Law Firm had been partnered with Stark Industries since before either of them were born, but this was not the first time the CEO had threatened to find new legal council if his favorite lawyer didn’t lighten up. After a few minutes of staring each other down from across the desk, Steve finally sighed in defeat.

  “Fine,” he relented. “I will come out with you for one night, but then you have to promise you’ll let me keep my head down and get work done until Christmas.”

  Tony grinned.

  “Scouts honor.”

  ***

  Steve never really felt comfortable wearing a suit, which was one of the greater ironies in his life. They felt too tight, too constricting, too immobilizing. Though the discomfort kept him on edge, it also kept him sharp and driven. The sooner he finished up in court or at the office the sooner he could get to the boxing gym where he really belonged. His idea of a fun and a relaxing night usually entailed old t-shirts and well-worn sweatpants… not an evening affair that required a tuxedo. As the car Tony had sent for him pulled up to the theater, the man himself was already waiting for him at the front steps with Pepper on his arm. They were both exquisitely dressed and, unlike Steve, appeared to be at total ease.

  “Good to see you, Rogers,” Tony greeted. “You know, Pepper and I were beginning to wonder if you would actually show up or if I’d need to start headhunting some fresh meat.”

  “We’re very happy you’re joining us,” Pepper corrected, subtly elbowing her fiance in the ribs in a futile attempt to remind him to behave. “Tony has been a patron of the New York City Ballet and several of its principal dancers for many years now.”

  “It’s just to make sure we get the good seats,” he said with a smirk.

  Though Steve didn’t actually see it happen, he was pretty sure Pepper stepped on Tony’s foot, and he couldn’t help but grin. There was an art form to keeping a Stark in line and Ms. Potts was a master craftswoman. As promised, they certainly secured the best seats in the house. Not only did the three of them have the centermost orchestra seats, but every row in front of them was completely empty, even though the rest of the theater was packed as tightly as the venue would allow. He wondered if Tony had bought all those empty seats just to keep his line of sight open, or if he simply gave the dance company so much money every year that they simply did it out of courtesy. Whatever the case, Steve couldn’t deny that if ever there was a time to be dragged to his first ballet performance, this was it.

  “Have you ever seen Balanchine’s The Nutcracker?” Pepper asked from across Tony as they settled in.

  Before he could answer, the lights dimmed and preemptive applause rolled down from around them. The stage came alive with dancers of all shapes and sizes, in colorful costumes and ranging movements that made Steve’s head spin but also captured his every attention. It only took a few songs for him to understand why his best client loved the company so much, with each dancer portraying a mastery of the human body that almost seemed impossible, most of all during the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy (he checked the program to make sure of the name). The redheaded woman who played the titular role was breathtaking to say the least. Poise and grace seemed to ebb from every inch of her with every twist and turn. She jumped and twirled and stepped all over the stage without a single hair falling from place or her enchanting smile dropping even for a second. Everything about her took his breath away, and Tony noticed.

  “Natasha Romanoff,” he whispered in Steve’s ear. “I saw her perform in Moscow with the Bolshoi three years ago and paid for her to transfer to New York. Best of the best; legs for days and nothing but charm.”

  Steve didn’t reply. At least, not until the dance was over and there was no risk of him missing a single second of her performance.

  “I don’t know what you paid, but she’s worth it,” he finally answered after the applause died down, his own hands probably the last pair still clapping.

  Even through the dim lighting, Steve noticed a certain spark suddenly illuminate Tony’s eyes and the man quickly took out his phone to send a few texts. That could only mean trouble

  ***

  “Ah, Ms. Romanoff!” Tony called with a wave that had Steve whipping around in his chair.

  Sure enough, walking through the restaurant coming toward them was the gorgeous ballerina they had just seen on stage two hours ago. Though wearing a reasonably casual black dress and face washed clean of the heavy stage makeup, she still looked exquisite. Steve, Tony, and Pepper all rose from their seats as the waiter brought over a fourth chair without being asked. She shook her patron’s hand cordially and hugged Pepper like a friend before turning to Steve.

  “Natasha, this is Steve Rogers. His law firm is the exclusive legal partner of Stark Industries and he is the best of the best,” Tony introduced.

  Without breaking eye contact with the dancer, he slyly turned up one corner of his lip in Steve’s direction and he felt the tips of his ears flush. No. No, no, there was no way Stark could set him up with a prima ballerina from the Bolshoi. Right? The woman turned her attention to Steve and he hoped she couldn’t see the nerves ready to burst and explode all over Tony.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said steadily in surprisingly flawless American accent. “Mr. Stark has told me a lot about you in the last few hours.”

  “The pleasure’s mine, ma’am,” Steve replied as calmly as he could, even as he saw Pepper and Tony exchange smug glances on the other side of the table.

  As they all settled back into their seats and the waiter poured Ms. Romanoff a glass of wine, Steve tried to think of any conversation topics that could even remotely ingratiate him with the woman sitting to his right. She and Pepper began chatting almost immediately, discussing Ms. Potts’ latest news from the Stark Industries and new programing coming up in the ballet. He appreciated that Tony always had his best interest in mind, but this was a little extreme, and more than a little outside his comfort zone. His history with women had not been impressive to say the least. With the exception of a British woman he met in law school who ultimately moved back home after graduation, every girl he tried to go out with either only cared about the superficial or became completely disinterested after the first date. How Tony possibly thought he could hit it off with one of the most accomplished dancers in the New York City Ballet was a total mystery.

  “Tony, I could really use some air. Will you take a walk with me?” Pepper suddenly asked, bringing the conversation to a halt.

  “Of course,” he answered, and winked at Steve as soon as he was out of Ms. Romanoff’s line of sight.

  The following few seconds of awkward silence were suffocating.

  “Mr. Stark says you’re one hell of a lawyer,” she finally said. “And that you aren’t afraid to argue with him when you think something the company has done is unethical.”

  Her voice was so soft and smooth, mirroring the way she moved on stage. Steve tapped his left foot anxiously.

“I got into the field to help people. I’ve known Tony since we were kids but I’m not going to let him take advantage of anyone else’s work.”

  Ms. Romanoff cocked her head with a smile before taking a sip of her wine.

  “You have conviction… I like that,” she hummed. “Most lawyers I’ve been set up with will do anything for a dollar.”

  Steve felt all the blood drain from his face. God damnit, Tony! He told her this was a date?! He was going to kill him. Kill him and make it look like an accident. She must have obviously noticed his distress, because she let out a laugh and draped a hand over his shoulder.

  “Don’t be embarrassed, Steve. Pepper explained that this wasn’t your idea. I was interested in meeting the man who isn’t afraid to talk back to Tony Stark.”

  Something about her touch and her laugh melted the tension from his shoulders. Despite the awkwardness Tony had imposed on the situation, he suddenly felt very at ease.

  “Ms. Romanoff, I-”

  “Please, call me Natasha.”

  ***

  Steve let out a silent sigh of relief that he was the first one to wake up, because the sight before him when he opened his eyes was a vision he wouldn’t trade for the world. Morning light poured into his bedroom from the half-open blinds over the windows, casting golden stripes over Natasha’s sleeping form. Her hair looked like shined copper where it was splayed over the pillowcase, contrasting sharply with the deep blue of the sheets that were tucked around her abdomen. She was still on her side, allowing him to see the expanse of her skin and delicate features of her face bathed in the morning glow. Her expression could only be described as serene. He propped himself up on one elbow to get a better look at the woman next to him. A part of him said he should have felt embarrassed or ashamed. His whole life, he’d been nothing but respectful and patient, never having the wherewithal or inclination to bring a girl home after the first date. But the voice of dissent soon fell silent as Natasha began to stir. The moment was too… too right. Too perfect to spoil with past expectations.

  “Good morning, handsome,” she murmured without opening her eyes, her hand still gently finding his cheek. “No regrets this morning, I hope?”

  Steve leaned over and planted a kiss on her forehead as her eyelids fluttered open. God, he loved her eyes.

  “Not a single one,” he whispered back.

  Natasha sat up and smiled, pulling the sheets a little higher up over her chest and she settled against the headboard. Steve decided right then he’d do absolutely anything to see that smile again and again.

  “Good, then you can make me breakfast,” she said with a playful smirk and gave him a light push toward the edge of the bed. “Nothing too heavy, I to be at rehearsal in two hours.”

  Steve walked around the bed, messily pulling on his pants as he went, to the other side where Natasha still resided comfortably. He kissed her once more, this time on her lips with a deepness he hoped resonated with her as much as it did for him.

  Just this one time, he owed Tony a thank you note.

[avoutput]

Spicy Kitty Needs A Party Hat || Captain Marvel

The 90’s is an era I feel like I am having to write about more and more. There is a glaring difference in how the 90’s are being portrayed in film today than the 50’s, 60’s, 70’s, and 80’s in previous years. There is a innate honesty about the 90’s in 2019, very flat without the inflated ego or idyllic gloss we used to place on “the good ol’ days”. Captain Marvel turns back the clock to visit the decade of my childhood, but I was pleasantly surprised that it was presented exactly as it was, spending no time at all to try and recreate a semi-charmed kind of backdrop. Its this frankness that permeates from every scene and interaction. Maybe this was inspired by the 90’s itself, glorified by the youth of the time as the decade of “keeping it real”, “telling it like it is”, mused about often with the rise of grunge. Or maybe in 2019, we are tired of rewriting history to fit our idealized version of it. Or possibly its because the full force of the digital fingerprint began with the unforgiving transparency of the internet. Are we still talking about a movie? Still, whichever reason you might subscribe to, Captain Marvel may be just a girl, or some kind of freak, but she isn’t about to take your shit. And neither is “Goose”.

In an effort to keep it real, i’ll be straight with you, Captain Marvel isn’t the best story out of the Marvel Studios camp, but it does offer more than enough in fun twists and paid fans some lip service. They decided to truncate most of Marvel’s origin story in favor of speeding things up, which ultimately feels like a good move. Brie Larson presents an even measured strength to Carol Danvers, even when she needs to present as angry or sad. There is a calmness just behind her eagerness that brings forth a bit of the military background Carol would have. She’s impatient and bold but still presents discipline. Danvers felt very real. Samuel L. Jackson under the effects of youth was hilarious to watch. I was reminded of his 90’s swagger from various roles like Pulp Fiction, Jurassic Park, and Die Hard: With A Vengeance. Ben Mendelsohn has this pitch perfect delivery, half cartoon villain and half witty spit fire, and still comes off as a strong presence. Jude Law was surprisingly big in this movie. You can’t look away from him when he is on the screen, possibly because he has the most ridiculous contacts on or simply because he is just a beautiful man, but he was a delight. Finally, Annette Bening plays a range in this film that is absolutely my favorite. The script lets her act a little wild at points and she runs with it. Everyone in this film is probably better than the film itself. Captain Marvel had to balance an origin story, being a somewhat of a prequel, and introducing a brand new character that will presumably turn the tide for the entire overarching story. This lack of freedom is noticeable, but it still manages to find its legs.

Even with the weight of all of Marvel on its shoulders, Captain Marvel still tries to make a modern statement in visiting the past. For one,  Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck recognize the difficulties women have to undertake just to be seen as remotely equal. But that sits co-pilot to another emerging issue all over the world. The pursuit of maintaining a dominant culture over those who refuse to assimilate. The winners always write history and largely two things have always been true in that regard. First, men steal discoveries that were rightly women, and second, the losers assimilate or die. In the film, instead of waiting for immigrants to come to show up on their shores, they decide to infiltrate and destroy entire groups of people who do not align with their way of life. Honestly, both things are glaringly loud throughout, but somehow it feels like background noise. I didn’t feel truly clued in to the weight of either concept until after I could truly digest the film. During the show, it just feels like a popcorn, space-action romp with a good sense of humor.

Captain Marvel is a rest stop on the road to the big show. One of those new rest stops with food trucks, fancy bathrooms, a tourist trap of some kind, and a doggie play zone. Basically, it pulls out all the bells and whistles, but it’s still just a stop on the way to the main show. It doesn’t have the edge of Iron Man, the quirky fun of Spider-Man: Homecoming, or the heart and pace of Wonder Woman, but it does pull its weight and create a brand new character you want to see more of. It also has a really deep message that comes to fruition after the credits roll. It also has dumb moments, the pace is off in certain places, and some moments feel prolonged, but it still has a soul. Maybe my mind will change in time, but you don’t need to see this on the big screen, it is plenty fine without it, despite all of the dazzling effects. See it for Brie Larson, for Captain Marvel, for Young Samuel L Jackson, and for spicy kitties who need party hats.

~* 7/10 *~

VERY MINOR SPOILER THAT EXPLAINS THE TITLE

P.S. A friend who works at a vet told us they don’t like to say anything that could sound like its mean, so if a cat is scared or likes to bite, they call it a “Spicy Kitty”. And if they can’t be calmed, they are given a muzzle they call a “Party Hat”. In the film, “Goose” has this happen to him. Voila.

[folkloreguk]

Pick Me Up (optional bias smut)

(yes I did use ioi’s song as a title for my smut pls don’t fight me) 

warnings: smut, horrible pick-up lines

pairing: reader (fem) x optional bias (male)

A/N: I thought about Ilhoon from BTOB when I wrote this but you can literally imagine anyone! I didn’t proof read this bc it’s late and I wanted to post it, but I’ll do that tomorrow. I hope you won’t find mistakes and even if you do, enjoy reading!! x

(H/N means “his name”)

[I wish I could tag my masterlist here, but if I do this post won’t show up for you guys anymore, but I havea link in my description!]

You were convinced. He was the most annoying fuckboy you had ever met. There were at least 10 other girls in your class, that were just as good looking as you. But for some reason he had chosen you. You didn’t understand why, but ever since he had first seen you, he hadn’t stopped trying to get with you. The amount of times he had asked you for your number was out of control. Not that you were going to give it to him any time soon.

You had to admit, he was smooth. He never seemed to run out of energy when it came to making up pick-up lines and asking you about your previous boyfriend. You had broken up with him after he had cheated on you. It turned out he had only been in it for the sex, and it prompted you to have lost all trust in boys. Otherwise, mr. fuckboy was the annoying but smart kid in class, who every teacher wanted to hate. They simply couldn’t, though, because no matter how many silly remarks he made, he always made up for them with just as many clever ones. He did manage to make you laugh too, at times when you weren’t busy being annoyed at him. All he seemed to think about was sex. And you.

The worst part about hating his acting though, was, by far, his handsomeness. Of course you would never admit it in his presence, but you didn’t exactly think he was ugly. But being attractive wasn’t all it took to make you open up to him. A boy. Boys, of whom you knew you shouldn’t trust them ever again. Sometimes you felt yourself doubting your devotion when you stared at him. When he grinned slyly after having made a smooth remark towards you before he turned around in his seat, facing the teacher who had probably warned him about interrupting the lesson already. But you were strong-willed.

“Shut up,” you muttered at him under your breath, glancing at the clock in the corner of the class room. 5 minutes to go. You can do this. He grinned, not fazed by your comment. He had just showed you an actual screw he had brought from home. “Wanna screw?” had his exact words been. You had never been this done with anyone. Lucky for him, your teacher had no interest in warning his students for interrupting. Especially because no one was listening anymore when there were only 4 minutes of the lesson left.

“I admit, not my best one. Here’s another one,” he said. Oh boy, here we go again. “If I flip a coin, what are my chances of getting head?”

You wished in that exact moment you could slap his smirk off his face. Why did he have to sit in front of you? 3 minutes left.

“Your chances are smaller than zero, how many times do I have to tell you?” you muttered.

“Actually, my chances would be 50%. But I guess you- Ow!” he let out, as you had smacked his arm playfully. “You know you’ll say yes one day.”

“In your dreams,” you laughed ironically. “Can’t you just behave like any other normal student for a minute?”

And so he did. For the last minute, he turned around and shut up. You were almost impressed. Now and then you caught him taking a glimpse at the clock on the wall, eager to leave just like anyone else in the room. At the same time, you caught yourself staring at him. Black skinny jeans, deep blue sweater, some sneakers. Nothing out of the ordinary. His hair looked a little messy from where he ran his hand through it earlier (Not that you had noticed that, too). Then, the bell rang. Finally. Voices bubbled up and chairs scratched over the floor. You packed your bag just as he stood up, placing his own bag on his table. Rummaging through it, he pulled his phone out, checking the screen. A second later, his face darkened in concern.

“Crap. There’s something wrong with my phone,” he cursed. You were 900% ready to get out of this classroom, but being the good person you were, you worried at his genuinely stressed expression. When he was being normal for a minute, you couldn’t help but be polite.

“What is it?” you asked. He looked at you for a moment, then sighed.

“Your number isn’t in it,” he said, sounding completely serious. Was he for real?

“And that’s the way it should be,” you caught yourself. “I need my break from you when I’m at home.”

And with that, you left him standing. If you just had his determination and used it for school work, you’d have heavenly grades. You dragged your body home, feeling unusually tired. You didn’t have a big appetite, which was unusual, and couldn’t focus on anything.

The next day you were sick. You were sure it was nothing serious, but decided to stay at home either way. At least in your bed you would be left alone. No pick-up lines for a day seemed like a week of holidays to you. It was a Thursday filled with coughing, sipping hot tea and watching your favorite TV show. You felt better in the evening, but not exactly healthy.

The next day you walked into the kitchen. It was morning and you were ready to leave for school again. The second your mother heard the ugly cough leave your throat, though, she sent you straight back to bed. Fine, you thought. Even though you didn’t feel sick anymore, another day in bed surely wouldn’t hurt. It was Friday anyway, allowing you to be excited about the weekend already.

Around noon you decided to check your phone for messages from your friends. You were sure you had missed homework and other school stuff you didn’t exactly feel like dealing with. To your surprise, none of your friends had messaged you about homework. Instead, you found a text from an unknown number.

unknown number: hey

                                                you: who is this?? 

unknown number: if you were a Pokemon, I’d choose you

                                               you: how the hell did u get my number??????? 

unknown number: we got paired up for a project

                                               you: what u talking abt??? 

unknown number: mr. smiths made us a pair for the history projects so ur friend had to give me ur number. its due to monday

                                               you: what the hell???? 

unknown number: I didn’t come up with the dead line

unknown number: btw what’s with all the question marks

                                              you: it’s called confusion

                                              you: so when do we meet up? 

unknown number: tomorrow? my place

You knew your parents wouldn’t be at home all day, and praying that his would be, you said yes. So there was still a small chance you wouldn’t have to spend an entire afternoon in a house alone with him.

On Saturday afternoon you had thrown on a random sweater with some pants, your sneakers and left your house. When you pulled up in his driveway you instantly noticed the lack of cars. He’s not getting into my pants, you told yourself. Why did you even have to remind yourself? For some reason, you felt nervous.

He ripped the door open around two seconds after you had rang the bell. In surprise, you flinched. The way he leaned against the door frame and grinned smugly made you frustrated. And you hadn’t even entered the house.

“Come in,” he made a dramatic gesture behind him, waving you inside. It almost made you laugh. Almost.

“Okay, first of all, rules.” You entered the house and looked around.

“Rules? What is this? BDSM?” he asked. You rolled your eyes. He nodded his head towards the stairs and you followed him.

“Focus,” you said, making him chuckle even more. “No pick-up lines. We need to get stuff done if this needs to be finished by Monday. I really need a good grade on this. Smiths already hates me for no reason.”

“Do I really distract you that badly?” he asked, smirking and turning around to you. His hair was messy, but in a good-looking way. His collar bones peeked out from under his shirt. You guessed he did distract you a little.

“See? That’s what I meant. Keep those comments in. At least until we’re back at school,” you said, entering his room after him. It looked cozy, and like he had just cleaned up. You hadn’t expected him to be messy, but not this clean either.

“Oh, I’m sorry. That’s literally my character, if you haven’t noticed yet, sweetheart,” he said, sitting down at his table, smirking again.

“Sweetheart?” you asked in disbelief. You realized that he wouldn’t stop with his comments until you did. And because fighting wouldn’t get you anywhere, you decided to shut up and start working. Your topic was the most boring subject you had ever heard about, making it even more bothersome to research it. It had been at least three hours. He had kept quite calm throughout it all, but you still seemed to struggle to make progress. You had taken your space on the floor, leaning against his bed. Around you, pens and papers were sprawled across the floor while you bit your lip trying to figure out a structure for your presentation.

“I need a break,” he murmured quietly from his desk. You only hummed, your thoughts focused on the presentation. Your hand ran through your hair, sighing in stress. He cleared his throat, making you jump.

“Looks like you could need a break too,” he laughed. “I’m gonna get a glass of water. Do you want one as well?”

Still in concentration, you snapped out of your trance slowly. You got up while nodding, deciding he was right, for once.

You watched the back of his head as he walked. The work had made you sleepy and dizzy, a little as if you were drunk. Crazy thoughts flooded your brain all of a sudden. Your fingertips tickled at the thought of running your hands through his hair, down the nape of his neck. You had always loved his neck, you just never had admitted it. Shaking your head, you asked yourself what had suddenly gotten into you. All you hoped for was for the water to wake you up and let you focus again. You entered the kitchen.

You thanked him when he handed you a glass of cold water. After you had downed it, you still didn’t think clearer.

“I don’t think we’ll get to finish this today. My mom wants me to be home by eight for dinner,” you admitted. It was already half eight. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

For a moment he blinked at you, then he grinned. You already knew what that expression meant.

“I mean…hopefully you…,” he mumbled. When you playfully lifted your hand as if to smack him, he held up both hands in surrender and giggled. “Okay! I don’t have plans, alright?”

“That’s literally all you had to say,” you let out, shaking your head at him.

“Y/N. Be honest for once. You like my pick-up lines,” he urged you. You laughed ironically. “Deep down, you do.”

“You drive me insane,” you said.

“That wasn’t a no!” he yelled in success, putting down his glass. “Come on. What’s so bad about me? What wrong have I ever done to you?”

You were taken aback by his sudden question. What wrong had he done to you? He had never been rude, only his goofy, sex-obsessed self. You glanced at his face. His eyes were waiting for an answer, hands crossed above his chest.

“I’m just not very fond of boys after my ex cheated-” you began.

“Seriously? You compare me to your ex-boyfriend?” he asked, genuinely offended. It was true, he was nothing like your ex. Much funnier, to begin with.

“I’m not comparing you! I guess I just don’t want to get involved with a guy any time soon,” you admitted.

“It’s not like I want to get married to you!” he argued.

“Wow, thanks,” you laughed at his defensiveness. “What do you want, then?”

He tilted his head at your question as if saying “Are you serious?”. Suddenly, he took a step towards you, startling you. Your body backed up against the counter, hands gripping the hard material as he studied your face.

“You know exactly what I want,” he breathed out. His face was so close to yours, you could feel the air from his lungs on your skin. It made your heart beat restlessly. His hand went under your chin, as if telling you. It was you, he wanted. You waited for his lips, but they never touched yours. He was waiting for your reaction. You realized he wasn’t going to kiss you without your consent. The boy wasn’t just determined, he also had one hell lot of self-control. Unlike you.

You closed the space between the two of you, lips colliding. Kissing him felt like triggering an avalanche of built-up frustration and emotions that had only been waiting to break free. His hands grabbed your sides roughly. He finally had what he wanted. In agreement, he let out a low sound when you pushed your body against his, chests touching. His tongue swiped over your lip, and you opened your mouth instantly. He tasted of bubble gum and smelled of cologne. His hands were even more eager than his mind, exploring your hips and waist, tugging at your clothes impatiently. You felt as if a ton-heavy weight was slowly lifting off you as you relaxed against his controlling touch and dominant kisses. He was right. Sex wouldn’t hurt your feelings. Not like your ex-boyfriend had. But your thoughts of him washed away in a blink when the boy in front of you pulled away and turned his attention to your neck. Your breath was shaky when he kissed you roughly, his teeth scraping against your skin. For a moment you let your head hang back, closing your eyes. His lips were soft but so passionate at the same time.

When your eyes opened, they fell onto the clock above the fridge. It was five to eight. Your eyes widened in shock.

“Wait, hold on,” you mumbled, softly tugging at his shirt. The look he gave you resembled a puppy whose food had been taken away. “I gotta get home, or else my mom kills me. She wants to have a family dinner. I’m sorry.”

He pouted, but nodded hesitantly. You wished you could’ve just been that rebel that ignored their parents for once. But that’s not who you were.

“But you’ll come over again tomorrow, right?” he asked, hope in his look as he showed you the way to the door.

“Yeah. To finish the project,” you emphasized.

“Sure,” he grinned, rolling his eyes. For the first time, you couldn’t blame him for thinking about sex now.

“I mean it! We’re not even halfway through, especially the presentation is not even close to finishing. We still need to write the entire text and draw the map. It’ll never work out,” you suddenly started to worry. Tomorrow was your last day and you had to spend it working with a boy that was sexually frustrated because of you. Which you, by the way, were as well.

“I’ll work on it tonight, maybe I get to finish it,” he said, completely calm.

“If you finish the project tonight I’m the princess of China,” you joked.

“And you’d let me have what I want?” he asked, unfazed. Let him have what he wanted. You laughed at him. There was no way he could finish the project by himself, in that short time. But a boy can dream.

“Yeah, sure,” you said, already out the door. “Bye. See you tomorrow.”

The next day at 3 you left your house, your bag full of pens, books and paper. You remembered the way to his house perfectly, and pulled up in front of it 10 minutes later. You chewed on your lip nervously whilst waiting for the door to swing open. You had thought the feeling would’ve gone away by now. But no way. The second you laid eyes on him when he opened up, you wanted him even more than yesterday. His hair looked freshly done but you wished you could mess it up. His lips were parted slightly as his gaze ran over your figure. You hadn’t worn anything special, just casual clothes. Yet he eyed you as if he never wanted to look at anyone else. When his look met yours, you looked away shyly.

“Come on in,” he said, completely relaxed. Without words you followed him to his room. The half which had the bed looked practically untouched. The other half, however, was a tornado-like chaos. Various pens sprawled across all surfaces and paper with messy notes covered every surface.

“Told you,” he grinned proudly. You lifted your eyebrows when he carefully stepped over the paper maze and grabbed a stack of them. Proudly, he handed it to you. You couldn’t believe your eyes. While he watched you, your eyes scanned the text quickly, making sure it made sense. You had known he was smart, but not this smart. Suddenly you wished you could do all of your projects with him.

“You did this by yourself? Last night?” you asked, still surprised. He chuckled.

“Indeed. It took me until three in the morning, but it’s done now,” he said. “Not a big deal.”

“Why didn’t you work that hard yesterday when I was over?” you asked.

“Honestly? I wanted you to stay over longer,” he admitted. His determination was definitely out of control.

“And now you asked me to meet again. If you were finished anyway you didn’t need me to come over,” you noticed. Then you remembered his words from last evening. He wanted his reward. You caught him licking his lips and your stomach flipped. Quickly, you looked over the text in your hands again.

“Is this how badly you want to get into my pants?” you joked, gesturing to the paper.

„Actually I think I just discovered my love for the history of the Medieval and Modern Africa,“ he explained matter-of-factly. You laughed out, and at the sound his eyes crinkled up too.

“Oh, of course, I’m sure of it,” you played along. “You know I could still say no now, and you’d have to accept it, right?”

He thought for a second.

„Sure, you could and I would. That sounds a lot like you’re saying yes, though,” he commented, smirking his famous, way too confident smile. He had never been more right and you knew it.

“Look. This one time, I’ll let you get away with it. But for the record, you can’t buy me with work. I’m only agreeing because I wa-” you started, holding up your finger. Suddenly, he walked over to you, grabbed your sides and attacked your mouth with his. You let out a surprised sound and stumbled backwards. You didn’t fall, though, because his grip on you was tight and after three chaotic steps your back hit the wall. There was no way for you to leave now, (not that you wanted to anyway) as his hands lay flat against the wall on your sides and he kissed you like his life depended on it.

He wasn’t doing anything particularly dominant, but the way he had you caged between the wall and his body and controlled the way you kissed him made your knees feel weak. Your previous boyfriend had made you feel good, but in a very sweet way. The boy that was all over you right now, however, seemed to not have the word vanilla in his vocabulary. You had no problem with him being rough. When you thought about it you let out a low whimper, to which he responded with a low growl.

“I’ve waited for so long, I thought I was gonna go insane,” he breathed against your lips as your chest heaved at the intensity of his kisses. You didn’t know how to speak anymore. Instead, you grabbed his neck and pulled him against you again. The way his tongue moved over yours made you wonder what else it could do to you. Involuntarily, your legs pressed together.

His hands were pulling your hair softly before moving downwards. Almost innocently they wandered over your chest, but you instantly arched your back, wanting more. They continued over your sides, holding you firmly by your hips. Then, they began lifting your top eagerly. You didn’t hesitate. It landed on the floor and meanwhile, he took off his own. You eyes barely had any time to admire his toned upper body, before they closed when his lips attacked your neck fiercely. His hands grabbed your ass and you moaned slightly. The way his lips played with your senses made you feel like melting underneath his teasing touch. They were rough and biting, and a second later soft and soothing. Your head leaned against the wall as he skillfully opened your bra, letting you toss it to the side carelessly. You whimpered at the sudden contact when his lips closed around one of your nipples, his hand playing with the other. His teeth grazed over your skin repeatedly, surely leaving purple marks. At least no one would see them there.

When he pressed his body against yours, you felt the bulge in his pants had grown. That didn’t take long, you thought proudly. On the other hand, you weren’t surprised. He was basically begging you to let him fuck you on a daily basis. You laughed quietly. While he was playing with the waistband of your pants, almost dragging them down, he reacted.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, confused but amused. You blushed, helping him to get rid off your pants, his following afterward.

“I was just thinking about how happy you must be now,” you explained, teasing him.

“I’m in heaven,” he didn’t hesitate to say. You were busy laughing as he took your arm and lead you to his comfortable looking bed. Turns out it didn’t just look the way. First, you admired his soft sheets, but then your focus diverted to him. To his mouth, to be exact. He kissed down your chest teasingly, but you felt how eager he was to get to your lower region. His hands stroking over your hips so tenderly were a massive contrast to his mouth. He licked and bit your skin until he reached the material of your underwear.

“You’re sure about this, right?” he asked. You wondered about his sudden hesitation.

“Of course I am,” you assured him, begging him to continue with your look.

“And you’ve done this before, right?” he asked. You were taken aback.

“What made you think I haven’t?” you asked, getting really impatient by the second.

“I just thought…, maybe you didn’t react to my pick up lines and jokes because you had never-” he explained. You laughed out. He looked puzzled.

“The problem wasn’t that I hadn’t had sex before, which I have, by the way. Your pick-up lines are just really, really bad,” you joked, grinning at him. He was playfully outraged.

“Okay, wait, you’ll love this one. Why do-,” he began, but was cut off by your voice.

“I am laying on your bed, half-naked and you’re trying to impress me with a pick-up line? You can do better than that,” you scolded him, chuckling. The tension between your legs became more unbearable with every passing second of him not touching you, and you couldn’t handle it.

“You’re right. I’ll show you how to be truly impressed, don’t worry,” he was back to being his cocky self. You were almost glad, because finally he pulled down your underwear. You lifted yourself up on your forearms, watching him as he breathed hot air against your wet center. Gently, his arms wrapped around your bent legs, laying on your lower stomach.

“Please, hurry,” you begged. He smirked, and you almost regretted saying it. Then you sucked in a breath when he licked a stripe over your folds, teasing you endlessly. He chuckled lowly when you let out a mix between a whimper and a groan, only leaving you more eager. His tongue was way too gentle on you. Forcingly, he pushed your legs apart further, giving him better access. When his tongue went over your clit, he suddenly stopped the game. While his finger nails dug into your stomach’s skin, he sucked on your clit, first hard, then softly and so on. He hadn’t been lying. Your throat left a breathy moan when he continued with licking, this time stronger than at first. As time went on, his muscle became faster and you felt yourself become weaker. You had to admit, he looked extra good laying between your thighs. You smiled in bliss, forgetting everything else around you.

“You’re so damn good at this,” you said, but the last part ended in a whimper when he payed extra attention to your sweet spot, making you see stars for a second.

“Told you,” he mumbled, barely pulling away. The vibrations his voice sent through you made you grip the bedsheets tightly. “If you would’ve only realized it sooner.”

He smirked up at you, not stopping his actions. Your stomach twisted in pleasure and anticipation. At this point, holding yourself up was no point anymore. You let your upper body fall backwards, the soft sheets catching you as you closed your eyes. You felt like you wanted to get even closer, although his face was basically buried between your legs. You squirmed under his grip when you felt yourself near your release.

“Stay still for me,” he ordered. There was only a little dominance in his voice, yet it made you want to behave. Even though you knew you couldn’t.

“But I’m so close,” you whimpered. He only took your words as a motivation. Faintly, you wondered how he had gotten so good with his mouth. His hands made you shiver even though they were gripping your body with roughness, keeping you in place. As you felt yourself get closer and closer to your release, your hands went to his hair. He slowed down for a second, but then he realized you didn’t want him to stop. The short break seemed to have left you even more sensitive. When he began sucking your sweet spot again, you almost couldn’t take it. His tongue leaped at your clit quickly. All you could do was close your eyes and attempt to control your moans. Within seconds you were coming, squirming underneath his touch while pulling his hair. Your back arched off the mattress and you moaned his name, no one else on your mind. He slowed down his actions and you shook slightly when he licked your over-sensitive clit one last time before pulling away.

For a few seconds you caught your breath, feeling his arms loosening their grip and his hands stroking over your skin soothingly. You stared at the ceiling for a while as your chest heaved, eyes blinking slowly. For some reason, you didn’t have enough of him yet. When you looked down, he was already staring up at you, grinning proudly at your expression. He gave you no signs of being eager, even though you were pretty sure he was. He was simply admiring you. It made you feel slightly weird.

“Are you not gonna take your pants off?” you asked. He laughed at your comment, shaking his head out of his focused state. Then, he got up and did just that. His boner was prominent and looked almost painful. He made a move towards the bed, almost as if he was going to climb on top of you. Then, he stopped in his tracks.

“Wait-” you began. Use protection, kids.

“Condom, I know,” he said, digging through his dressing table. When he finally scrambled onto the bed, he seemed to have lost all patience. Your hands went around his neck while he pumped his shaft a few times, squinting his eyebrows at the built up tension.

“Ready?” he asked you. You nodded before he had even finished the word. He entered you slowly, but wasted no time in picking up pace. At first, you whimpered at how he filled you up and how sensitive you were. Then, you got lost in the way he bit his lip and how his jaw flexed under his skin. His moans sounded like music to your ears. He was holding himself up on his arms while your legs bent a little, making him slam into you at a perfect angle. You cried out when he almost pulled out fully, only to thrust back into you until his hips met yours, his skin hot against yours. Your hands were playing with his soft hair by the nape of his neck, while he lowered his head a little. He wasn’t kissing you, but your lips were touching slightly, your unsteady breaths becoming one. He repeated your name a few times, as if praising you. His arms flexed under his weight, his veins standing out.

His member brushed over your sweet spot over and over, making you clench around him. He grunted at the sensation, only leading you to do it again. You loved seeing the way he shut his eyes tightly, concentrating on the pleasure. His thrusts were quick, but seemed less controlled than in the beginning, meaning he must have been close. Curses left his mouth, while you moaned softly. His motion became even quicker as he buried his head in the crook of your neck, lips hovering over your skin. His name slipped past your lips when he messily kissed you there, not slowing down his thrusts. When you clenched your walls around him again, he was sent over the edge.

He groaned, his arms giving out and he fell onto his forearms, basically laying on top of you now. His skin was hot and his breaths uncontrolled, face still in your neck. When he looked up at you he looked thoroughly content. You grinned tiredly. He pulled out carefully, making you whimper. For a few seconds you stayed that way, catching your breaths. It was quiet in the room, and you felt energetic and at the same time completely exhausted. Of course he was the first to speak.

“Don’t you wanna hear my pick-up line from earlier?” he asked. You almost smacked him. Then, you laughed.

“Okay, tell me,” you said, leaving him surprised. He was going to tell you anyway.

“People call me H/N, but you can call me tomorrow.”

[pcyheartgirlx]

In The Bleak Midwinter [CH2]

CHAPTER 2

Genre ;; Angst/Smut/Fluff/Romance

Pairing ;; Chanyeol x Reader x Seokjin

Word Count ;; 7k

Summary ;; “We’re all whores, we just sell different parts of ourselves.”

You own a multi-billion dollar company, servicing the biggest names in kpop, in more ways than one. Under the name “Starlight Catering”, you, your best friends, Damon and Maya, and your hundreds of workers provide stress relief for idols.

You have partially retired, not because you didn’t want to, but because Chanyeol was your muse. He was all that you had time for and needed. Jin came along.

So what happens when you mix fire and ice?

You get smoke and all the lines are blurred.

A/N ;; This chapter was SO much fun to write. I really hope you enjoy the EXO interaction I incorporated in here. ALSO there is mention of your "exboyfriend" Jiyong (yes, G-Dragon) in this chapter, a flashback to be specific. It is rather violent so be prepared for that. Anyway, enough of my Drabble. On to the fic, happy reading!

[PLAYLIST] [BACKSTORY] [PROLOGUE] [CH1] [CH2] [CH3]

The car came to a stop right in front of the SM condominium. You fixed yourself a bit before you got out of Damon’s car.

“Thanks, babes,” you said putting your hand on his shoulder. “Get some rest guys, okay?” Concern mirrored in your words. Maya turned back to you and blew you a kiss.

“We will, Eomma. Don’t worry!” She squeaked. You really hated when they called you that but you ignored it as you nodded at her and opened the car door to leave. With a final wave, the car drove away and you were left in front of yet another building. This time though, there was no tension and no nerves.

You had been seeing Chanyeol for a while now. For about two years to be precise. It wasn’t until this past year that he became the only regular you had. The company had expanded beyond your belief and you just didn’t have any time for anyone else. But you were lying to yourself if you said that was the only reason. Of course, the sex was amazing; he knew all your spots, kinks and triggers. He made you cum more than anyone had ever thought they could. The reality of it was that you enjoyed his company. You two had so much in common ranging from music, movies, sense of humor, style and even particular outlooks on life. You’ve had many sleepless nights with him getting lost in deep conversation until the sunlight found its way into his room. It wouldn’t stop there either, he’d stay on the phone with you until you got home and then you’d spend hours talking, laying on your bed until you both fell asleep on your phones. He was just as important to you as Maya or Damon. He made you believe in love again.

With the good comes the bad though. Chanyeol wasn’t self-conscious by any means. He knew that he was indeed one of the most handsome men on the scene. It was his pride. He wanted you to himself and no one else. It became apparent after the first few months. He would text you non stop when he thought you were with someone else. Sometimes he’d even show up to your apartment and wait in his car until you got home. At first, you thought it was because he worried. But as time passed, you saw the real problem. He had never had to share a woman before. And who could be upset over that? No one should have to share their beloved, you told yourself. But everything you worked for, you couldn’t throw it out for one person. You had done that before and look where it got you.

Even if you did, there were other factors. Because of his status, dating wasn’t an option. Neither was the possibility of going out together and venturing life in a setting beside his room. You were a dirty little secret. “That isn’t a relationship you deserve,” he would say. Not after what you have been through. Chanyeol loves you very much, he just has an alternative way of showing it.

As you approached the door, you flattened down your dress one more time before you knocked lightly.

“Chanyeooool!” You heard a voice whine loudly from the other side. That voice was none other than Jongdae’s. “I think your lady is here!” He called out.

You could hear Chanyeol’s deep voice inaudibly reply, followed by his footsteps scurrying closer to the door. When he opened for you were leaning against the door frame, looking up at him with pure seduction welling up in your eyes like tears. You couldn’t help but yearn for him more. He stood there in a black wife beater and his favorite pair of Adidas joggers.

“What was all that talk about you needing me now?” You hummed. He bit his lip and started for you.

“Come here, Baby,” he growled as he cupped your face with his large hands and started kissing you hungrily.  Your lips were fighting for dominance, with him sucking and nibbling on your bottom lip. Without breaking the kiss, he pulled you inside and turned your position around so he could close the door behind him with his back.

Immediately, he let his hands descend down from your face, traveling your body and finally ending at your bottom, grabbing it firmly. Each one of his hands was on either cheek and he pulled you close to him with force as he continued to devour you. Your breaths were heavy and your tongues danced together, interchanging between his mouth and yours. You let out a soft moan as he tightly held on to your ass before he bent his knees and placed his hands on your thighs. He moaned into your mouth and you felt yourself being lifted off the ground, he picked you up and you wrapped your arms around his defined shoulders, legs pushing his waist closer to you as you locked onto him. You broke free as he started kissing your cheek, traveling down to your neck. Resting your head on his shoulder, you let him suck and bite at the skin on your chest and neck. He began walking down the hallway, not stopping.

As you passed the living room, you quickly spotted Jongdae scribbling away at his notebook, Sehun indulged in this phone and Kyungsoo studying the script placed on his lap. Jongdae’s head snapped up as he hurt you pass.

“(Y/N)! Hi!” his voice was always so pleasant and sweet. Even with Chanyeol feasting away at your skin, you greeted him.

“Hi, Jongdae!” You said shakily. Also waving at Sehun who greeted you warmly. Kyungsoo on the other hand…

“Oh for fuck's sake, not again you two!” The semi-bald man glared at you two as you walked by in Chanyeol’s arms. He pushed his script aside and followed you guys. 

“AWAEEE! Leave them alone!” Jongdae whined. Kyungsoo simply ignored him. 

“Listen! I’m trying to fuckin’ practice!” He yelled but Chanyeol kept gnawing at you as you shot him an apologetic look that was mixed with ecstasy. “Can you please try to keep it down?!” Chanyeol responded by entering his room, with you grabbing onto him tightly and slammed his door.

“I guess not!” You heard Kyungsoo continue from the other room. You giggled to yourself at his expense and because Chanyeol was now lapping his tongue against the crook of your neck. You were pinned against the door. He let go of your ass and placed one hand firmly on your left breast while the other cupped the back of your head.You loosened your grip around him and let your limbs fall, your feet touching the floor and your hands traveling up and down his biceps, roaming his chiseled back. His tongue started traveling lower, down your chest, letting his lips kiss and suck every part of that path towards your breasts. Your head was thrown back in pleasure, allowing him to taste you. But suddenly he stopped. He put his arms on either side of your head as he gasped for air. He brought his head up so he was looking straight into your eyes.

“Where were you?” He panted, his voice was husky and low. You just blinked at him and bit your lip. “You smell like you’ve been with another man.”

Fuck.

You tried to quickly come up with an explanation but Chanyeol was an impatient man and you were hypnotized but him. Those full pouty lips were pink and swollen and his cat-like eyes reflected pure lust but you also saw a glint of anger. It turned you on so much.

“Ahhh…” he groaned as he brought one of his hands to his hair and ran his fingers through it, looking down. “Look what you do to me, aish.” He breathed out as he walked away. The guilt was starting to scratch away at you internally.

“Chanyeol,” you whispered as he turned away from you, walking toward his closet you trailed behind him. “Baby let me explain—“

“I thought that was it, (Y/N),” his voice trembling. He reached into the closet, grabbed a towel and handed it to you. “Wash him off you next time.” His words were cold like icicles digging into your conscious. You took the towel from him and watched him walk over to his desk, opening his laptop. “I’ll be waiting here for you.”

“You won’t even let me explain?” you pleaded with him. He simply ignored you as he started opening up the internet browser. “Fine,” you huffed and made your way out the door.

You continued down the hallway, passing a few more rooms before you made it to the kitchen. As you walked in, you saw Junmyeon, Baekhyun, and Jongin sitting on stools surrounding the long island. They looked as if they were just talking among themselves, with Jongin stuffing his hand into a box of fried chicken as usual.

“Isn’t it a little late, guys?” You said with a soft voice, concern laced in your words.

“(Y/N)!” Jongin mumbled, the chicken still being chewed in his mouth. Junmyeon shot him a disapproving look.

“Cmon, don’t talk with your mouthful,” he commented before he looked at you and motioned for you to come toward them. “Sit with us for a bit, (Y/N)!” He said sweetly. “Have some chicken!” Jongin glared at the leader, partially because he scolded him but also partially because he just offered up some of his precious chicken to you.

“Yea! Look!” Baekhyun piped as he reached his hand into the box and pulled out a drumstick. “There’s still one drumstick left. You loveeee drumsticks.” He wasn’t wrong. “Eat me, (Y/N)! Eat me!” The blonde’s voice went up 10 octaves as he tried bringing the piece of chicken that he was waving around to life. Junmyeon and Jongin just shot him a “what the fuck” face causing you to laugh more than you already were.

“You guys are so sweet, but I don’t think I can tonight,” you said as you approached them to hug each of them. Baekhyun just let out a child-like "awww" before dropping the chicken back in the box.

“Why not?” Jongin squeezed you with one arm as you greeted him.

“Chanyeol and I just need a little extra time together today. I might have pissed him off a bit,” you explained as you hugged Junmyeon last.

“Ahh he's such a hothead sometimes,” Baekhyun commented as he swatted his hand in the direction of Chanyeol’s room. “He ruined a perfectly good date for you with three of the most charming men in EXO!” He beamed.

“I know! What a jerk,” you muttered jokingly, agreeing with Baekhyun. You put your hand on Junmyeon’s back, resting it there as you spoke. “Did you guys get the sweets I sent last week?” You could see Jongin’s eyes light up in your peripheral.

“They were SO good, (Y/N)!” Jongin chirped as he took a bite of the drumstick that was previously offered to you.

“I saw that you had them shipped all the way from Argentina! You really didn’t have to go through all that trouble, (Y/N),” Junmyeon looked at you with such gratitude, it made your heart soft.

“Really! It was no problem. Let’s just say someone owed me a favor,” you assured him. “I just wanted to get my sweeties some sweeties!”

“Why are you so good to us?!” Baekhyun cried with joy as he pulled you into a hug almost dropping the towel Chanyeol had given you. “We don’t even sleep with you!” You and Jongin chuckled at him while Junmyeon playfully smacked his hand for being so vulgar.

“Because you guys take such good care of us! You’re always so kind and sweet whenever me, Damon or Maya are here. Plus, I knew you guys would like them,” you gushed. They all smiled their million dollar smiles at you. Deep down inside you melted into a puddle of liquid gold, shining because you were blessed to see this in person. God, they’re so fucking perfect, you thought to yourself.

“Did you need to shower?” said a voice coming from the other side of the room. You looked up and saw Minseok standing there, dripping wet with a towel wrapped around his torso. Fuck, Maya is so lucky to get to tap that.

“Yes! I do,” you cried out, lowering a sly seductive gaze at him. “Thanks for the show, Minseok.” You noticed his cheeks blushing violently.

“Uh...Y-you’re welcome,” he fumbled with his words causing Jongin to bust out laughing, sounding like he was gasping for air. Baekhyun and Junmyeon did a better job at holding in their laughter. Minseok started walking passed you with his head down.

“You would think the way he had Maya screaming he would get over his timid side in front of you guys,” Baekhyun declared. Junmyeon tried to shoot him one of his mom glares but couldn’t keep a chuckle from escaping his lips. Jongin still sounded like he was having an asthma attack.

“The speaker should still be in the bathroom, (Y/N),” Junmyeon called out as you walked away. You were there so much they remembered your habits. Well, at least Junmyeon did.

“Yea but keep the volume down because Kyungsoo is going to pop a vein if he can’t study his script,” Baekhyun added, he glanced at Jongin. “You need to dick him down a little bit more.”

“Byun Baekhyunnie!” Junmyeon and Jongin both screamed in unison. You just laughed, said thank you quickly and disappeared into the shower.

The floor was still wet and the mirror fogged your reflection. You turned the water on and began to strip. Once your phone was connected to the speaker by the sink and the water was at the right temperature, you put on a random radio station and jumped in. As The first song play, you lathered your body mindlessly, washing any traces of Jin away. Mentally scolding yourself for not spraying yourself earlier, you continued to put more soap on the special loofah they left for you in the bathroom. You smiled to yourself again thinking about how considerate these 9 men were. But the feeling quickly faded.

Tteonaga

Yeah, I finally realize, that I’m nothing without you

I was so wrong, forgive me

That Voice.

You jumped out of the shower as fast as you could, darted for the phone and played the next song.

Jiyong

Even his voice made you sick. Suddenly, the scene played in your head.

x-x-x

You were walking into your old house. You remember it, right? The beautiful white and yellow Victorian home, all the detailing was designed intricately with you and your soon to be husband. Everything was perfect, right? You guys left NYC a year ago to start over in Korea together. What you left in NYC, cocaine, hooking, abuse, The Old (Y/N). The old Jiyoung. Well. they seemed to find their way back to you guys here.

As you walked into your beautiful house, loud music filled your ears. It was coming from the den. Battling with yourself, you sighed and decided to follow the music, walking across the beautiful linoleum floor. When you approached the den, you saw your fiance with his head crooked back in his chair, mouth agape panting slightly. On his desk was a mountain of coke as usual and poking out from under the desk were a pair of heels.

“How many fuckin’ times do I have to tell you,” you walked over to him and saw one of the girls you just employed slurping on his cock under the desk. You pushed his chair back, grabbed her by the hair and began to drag her to the front of the desk.

“I’m so sor--” her apologetic sob was cut short but the collision of your fist to the side of her temple. She fell to the floor, clutching her eye.

“Ah for fuck's sake (Y/N),” Jiyoung started. “You always have to be the bigger bitch right.” Your stomach boiled at his words. You walked over to his shelf where he proudly displayed his many music awards.

“You’re damn fucking right,” you spat at him, walking back over to the girl.

“Just stop, at this point, you look stupid,” he said as he buckled his pants and sat back down. He took the edge of his silver credit card and started cutting a small piece of the mountain of coke. With a fistful of the injured girl’s hair you shot him another look, holding the Daesang over your head

“So that’s what you’re gonna do?” you brought the trophy down and smashed it against the girl’s head. She let out a blood-curdling scream that both you and Jiyoung weren’t even phased by. It was a sound you both had grown accustomed to. He brought the edge of the credit card to his nose and desperately sniffed the contents until they disappeared.

“You’re just going--” One blow. “--fucking sit there--” Two blows. “--and snort--” Three blows. “--our--” Four blows. “--fucking--” Five blows. “--life--” Six blows. “--away!” Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten.

You always liked even numbers.

At this point, the girl’s face was unrecognizable. Blood dripping down your arm on his white fur rug. It was like someone had grabbed a bucket of paint and just attacked you from the side, staining your face, chest, dress, and legs. You dropped the girl’s lifeless body and his stupid fucking award on the floor. He just sat there, bored and uninterested. You shook some of the blood of you and started to break down crying.

“Stop fuckin crying,” Jiyoung said as he took another bump. You just couldn’t stop. All the things you left behind followed you here and it wasn’t you. It was him. He brought them back.

“W-we...we were so happy, Jiyoung...so happy,” you sobbed pathetically as you dropped down to the floor, the blood-soaked rug cushioning your knees from the fall.

“Fucking save it, (Y/N). Please? I don’t feel like dealing with this right now,” he replied coldly. You just cried harder and started hyperventilating.

“Why does it have to be this wa--”

“You fucking bitch!” he screamed slamming his fist on his desk. He shot up and darted toward you. You let out a painful yelp as he grabbed you by the shoulders and started shaking you violently. “Why can’t you listen?! Huh?!” with that he threw you on the floor again next to the girl’s dead body, towering over you.

“Stop please--”

“Oh NOW you want me to stop?” he let out a condescending laugh and crouched to your level. “Did you like this, (Y/N)? Do YOU?” His breath hitting your face like a hot wave from a freshly opened oven. He picked up the bloody Daesang beside you. “Is this what you WANT?” He screamed before flinging the trophy behind him. You watched it go through the window, glass landing everywhere.

“(Y/N)?” you heard on the other side of the door. The voice was followed by a knock. You quickly shook the thought from your head.

“Yeah, Sehun?” you replied.

“Are you almost done?” he called out. “I have to use the toilet!” You sighed heavily and tried to compose yourself.

“Just a few more minutes! I promise!” you replied sweetly, trying to coat the creeping sob that threatened to escape your throat. You jumped back in the shower and washed yourself, trying to scrub the blood off your body all over again.

After your shower, you wrapped yourself up in Chanyeol’s towel and walked out of the bathroom, finding Sehun waiting patiently.

“Ahhh about time!” he exclaimed. You shrugged your shoulders and looked at him apologetically.

“I’m sorry Sehunnie!” you said timidly.

“Nah it’s okay,” he teased. “By the way, is Da--”

“No Damon isn’t with me tonight, hun,” you cut him off knowing exactly what he was going to say. He slightly pouted and replied with a simple "oh" before he disappeared into the bathroom. You thought it was cute how Sehun had grown fond of Damon. Damon had a tough exterior but Sehun possessed a certain quality to break that down. That quality is a great dick and the ability to make him laugh endlessly.

You walked through the halls with clutching the towel with one hand and your dress in the other, hoping no one else would catch you in your towel. Making it safely to Chanyeol’s room, you walked in to find him still at his desk, scrolling the internet. The details from his room were much different than Jin’s. He had musical instruments everywhere, showcasing your favorite side of him. There was also his dresser which was adorned with cute toys that Chanyeol found fascinating. His bed was large and had the soft blue sheets draping over them. Right above the bed was a curtain that practically reached the ceiling. You were very fond of that curtain.

“Chanyeol,” you called out softly to him. No answer. You sighed and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulder. “Chanyeol,” you repeated. “Talk to me, please?” He cleared his throat and nothing more. You got bored with his antics and started to take matters into your own hands. Bringing your lips to his neck, you started to kiss him softly. Before you could plant another one he broke free from your grasp and stood up. You took a step back but he got closer to you. His eyes filled with anger and hunger.

He brought a hand up to your face and caressed your cheek. You bit your lip as you put you placed your hand on his chest. In a blink of an eye, his hand moved swiftly behind your head and grabbed at the base of your neck, his other hand ripping the towel off of you, exposing your naked body. He forcefully pulled you into a kiss. His lips fighting yours for dominance. With his hand still gripping the back of your head, he pulled you away and grabbed on your right breast and sunk his fingers into your soft skin, causing you to wince in pleasure.

“Look at me,” he said and just like that, you brought your head up. Those eyes, his small sweet pout, the way his hair would cling to his forehead when it wasn't styled. You just admired these soft features as they hardened with authority. “Who do you belong to?” he breathed. He loosened the grip on your breast only to grab at your nipple, squeezing it tightly and tugging it. He knew this drove you insane and that you loved being played with. You didn’t take the bait. You just moaned and looked at him, yearning for more. He raised an eyebrow at you and cocked a half smile.

“No answer?” his voice sounded calm but dangerous. He gave your nipple one last squeeze, enjoying the sound you made afterward. His hand coasted lower, passing your stomach and arriving at the lips of your womanhood. His fingers teased your entrance and you just whimpered. He was feeding off it.

“I’m going to ask you again,” he said as he tightened the grip on the back your neck. With one quick movement, he forced his index and middle finger inside you, finding your spot immediately. A loud moan escaped your lips as he wiggled his fingers against your spot while running his thumb over your clit. His head lowered until you could feel his lips by your ear.

“Who do you belong to?” he hummed. Your whole body was overcome with euphoria and you gave in.

“Y--you, Chanyeol,” you whimpered, holding on to his bicep as his fingers moved swiftly inside you. “I belong to you.”

“That’s right, baby,” he praised. Releasing you from his grip, he extracted his fingers from you. He pushed you down so you were on your knees. At this moment you knew what he wanted. Your hands made their way to the waistband of his joggers and pulled them down to his knees. His head at eye level, you stuck your tongue out and swirled it around him.

“Ohhh (Y/N),” he moaned. “You know I love that but,” his hand crept its way to the back of your head again. You looked up and your eyes met. He loved that face you made. His cock twitched on your tongue. “Not today.” with that he pushed your head into his cock, forcing you to take it all in until you felt his head hitting the back of your throat. You choked and coughed on his member but he didn’t care. Your hands shot up to his waist, your knuckles turning white as your nails dug into him. His head fell back as he let out a long lingering moan. When he looked down, he saw the tears falling from your eyes, his thumb caught them before the could fall.

“I’m sorry baby,” he panted. “Go ahead and get some air,” he released his grip from your head, allowing you to be able to pull away. But you wanted to please him. Your (e/c) orbs pierced into him as you started to bob your head, slurping up all the drool that was threatening to escape your mouth. You felt his organ swell in your mouth at the sight of this. He ran his fingers gently through your hair, pushing back any strands that prevented him from seeing your face. Every slurp and suction increased the volume of his moans. Your tongue wrapping around his cock, licking and roaming every inch of it while it disappeared into your mouth every now and again. His hands grabbed the side of your face, he knew he was close. You stopped all movement and let him do what he loved to do before he came.

His hips thrusting forward into your mouth, you moaned into his dick, the humming vibration bringing him closer to his climax. His eyes closed tightly as he groaned, “Fuck I’m coming.”

He paced quickened as he fucked your mouth. Slurping and moaning into him as much as you could, just as he was about to release, you threw yourself back, watching the white string of cum shoot out of him and fall on your body. Your breasts and chin adorned with his cum. Knees knobbing he bent over, placing his hands over them to control the shakes. He raised his head and looked at you, naked on the floor, propping yourself up enough where he could see his cum on your body. He reached over and grabbed the towel he ripped off of you so you could clean yourself. You simply shook your head and smiled deviously. Using your finger, you scooped up the cum and brought it up to your lips, sucking your finger clean. Chanyeol’s eyes widened and he watched you in awe as you cleaned yourself up.

“You’re so hot,’ he breathed. You chuckled seductively as you finished lapping up the last of his cum. The way he bit his lip made your womanhood throb. You wanted him inside you so bad. It was like he read your mind. Chanyeol’s recovery time was that for the record books. The first thing he did was rip the rest of his clothes off as he got up. Then he walked over to you and picked you up bridal style, carrying you over to the bed. You wrapped his arms around him planted small kisses on his shoulders before he placed you on the bed. Making his way toward your favorite curtain, your instincts kicked in. He pulled them open, revealing a mirror that almost took up the whole wall. It was your favorite part of Chanyeol’s room. You loved watching the faces he made while he wall drilling into you. He made his way over to you and kissed you. You bit his bottom lip and ran your tongue along it. He pulled away and smiled, that handsome smile.

“Turn around,” he commanded. You crawled to the end of his bed and got on all fours, your hips propped up waiting for him. You looked up at the mirror and saw him making his way behind you. Your eyes locked, both of you exuding animalistic desire. Chanyeol didn’t wait. He always took what he wanted from you. Just as he had done so before, his whole cock penetrated you, leaving you no time to prepare yourself for his entrance. Your walls clung to him tightly, wanting to feel every inch of him inside you.

“Mmm...baby you’re so wet,” he said, savoring your warmth. Immediately, he started pumping into you. His pace quickened with every stroke, arching your back into him so you could fully feel him inside you. Endlessly crashing into your spot, your body tensed. Your knuckles turning white again as you grasped at the sheets under you. You snapped your neck up and looked at him in the mirror. It was like he was caught in a trance, hypnotized by the way your walls gripped onto his cock and how your breasts hung at your chest, moving perfectly with his pace. Sweat was dripping down his forehead, traveling down the tip of his pointed nose. His mouth hung open, revealing his bottom teeth doing so. You couldn’t hold it in anymore. You felt your climax approaching and so did he.

Chanyeol’s hammered into you violently as you threw your head back in ecstasy, letting orgasmic waves wash over you. You felt your cum drip down your thighs and onto his sheets. But this didn’t slow Chanyeol down at all. He kept plowing into you, every thrust more powerful than the other. You let out another breathy moan, indicating another orgasm taking over you. As more of your cum dripped down your thigh and on his, he continued his pace. He raised his hand and brought it down to your ass with force, leaving his handprint on you. The sound of his cock being suctioned in and out of you filled the room along with a symphony of groans and moans spilling out of both of you. Another orgasm was approaching and you didn’t know how much longer you could take. You screamed his name in ecstasy as you came all over him again. You felt the sheets beneath your knees become soaked with your liquid. Your walls were tighter than ever and Chanyeol was on the brink of his orgasm. He gripped onto your waist for support as he collided into you. Another one? Fuck, how? You thought to yourself, knowing you were coming to your final orgasm. His dick throbbed in you and his moans never ending, he started to quake.

“Ohhh, (Y/N)....fuck,” he exhaled as he reached his climax, pumping his hot liquid into you. You too were reaching your final orgasm, your bones racking in your body as the last shot of come dripped out of you.

There was no energy left in your body. You just collapsed on the bed, panting and shaking violently. Chanyeol walked over to you with a towel. He tapped on your bum slighting to motion you to lift yourself so he could clean you but you just didn’t have the energy.

“Can’t...move…” you croaked. He smirked at your statement and proceeded to wipe your thighs and pussy clean.

“You see babe?” he said confidently while he wiped himself down after. He flung the towel across the room letting it fall where ever it may and laid next to you. He was on his side, supporting his head with his hand. “I’m the only one you need.”

Using his free hand, he pushed the stray hairs behind your ear so he could see your face. Slowly and painfully, you turned and laid on your back, scooting as close as you could to him. He leaned in and kissed your forehead lovingly.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concern thickly coating his words. You just chuckled.

“I’m great,” you exclaimed, loving the feeling of his touch. He was running his hands through your hair, occasionally caressing your face gingerly. You couldn’t help but notice his expression was different than usual. After sex, he flashed that 1000 kilowatt smile and would bring you closer to him, digging his face into your (h/c) locks. But today, he studied you, his doe-like eyes boring into you.

“What’s wrong?” you asked him. He bit his lip and tried to look away.

“You know what’s wrong,” he said silently, pinching the tip of his nose. It was a habit of his that you always noticed. Finding whatever energy you had left, you turned to your side just as he did, mirroring his stance and propping your head on your arm. He never stopped caressing you.

“I know baby,” your words were gentle and soft. “But it was just a one-time thing...I didn’t even want to do it.” He didn’t try hiding the happiness you gave him when he heard you say that. But it only lasted a minute.

“Well then why did you do it if you didn’t want to?” he was scared of your answer before he even asked.

“New client,” you said flatly. It was really that simple. “We are expanding, Yeollie. You know I can’t give you any more details but--”

“So don’t,” he cut you off. His expression turned solemn. Even if you could share the details about your other client, he didn’t want to hear them truthfully. “Just answer these two questions for me and we can move on,”  He leaned in so his lips would meet yours. They lingered there for a while, the butterflies in your stomach started batting their wings violently.

“Do you love me?” he breathed into you before he kissed you again.

“With all my heart,” you replied between kisses.

"And,” he kissed you again. “Will you wait for me?” His lips colliding again with yours.

“Until the end of time,” you whispered. He smiled wildly while collapsing on his back stretching his long limbs.

“I have the most perfect girl in the woooooorld,” he screeched as limbs reached out for what seemed like nothing. He sighed and tucked his hand under his head. Perfect girl? You thought. How low are your standards, Chanyeol? He interrupted your thought by clearing his throat. He always knew you were mentally denouncing his compliments the very second he gave them to you. “Come,” he continued, patting his chest with his free hand. “Lay with me for a little before you go.”

“No, you know I’m not going to want to get up after--”

“So don’t leave,” he said it like it wasn’t a big deal. You scoffed at him and shook your head. “Why not?” he pleaded.

“Because, Junmyeon will murder me and hide the body,” you joked. He chuckled along with you.

“That’s not a good enough reason,” he twirled the ends of your hair in between his fingers, just examining your naked body adoringly.

“My life isn’t a good enough reason,” you asked shocked. His eyes trailed away, making a pensive face then looking back at you quickly.

“No!” he said with emphasis, his eyes widening at you. You gasped and slapped his hand away. He laughed at your expense and then tried again

“Pleaseeee, just lay with me!” he pouted at you and his eyes glistened. “I want to hold you.”

How could you say no to that man? You smiled and gave into him, letting your head rest on his chest. Chanyeol shifted so that he was on his side again but now he held you close to him. His chin resting on the crown of your head and your face buried into his clavicle. His embraced tightened as he nuzzled into your hair.

“I promise I won’t ever let anything hurt you again,” he whispered softly as he always did. There wasn’t a day that passed where he didn’t remind you.

x-x-x

“There is no way you possibly think that Korean food is spicier than Mexican food!” you screeched into the phone. You were trying not to make too much noise as you walked into your apartment. The last thing you wanted to do was wake up the beasts aka your roommates. But Chanyeol was making it difficult by spewing nonsense into the phone.

“Yes, it is! I’ve tried Mexican food and it’s not that spicy,” he said as a matter of factly. You walked into your kitchen and put your bags down. After leaving the EXO dorm, Chanyeol called you immediately as always. He stayed on the phone with the whole way home. On your way back, you bought some pastries and bread for Damon and Maya as a thank you for helping you with that BTS situation. You felt a bit of guilt when Chanyeol suggested all kinds of pastries for them as you were in the bakery.

“Where did you try this Mexican food?” you asked, supporting the phone with your shoulder as you took the boxes out of the bags.

“In America!”

“Okay, where in America?”

“Taco Bell,” he said proudly. You almost spat.

“That’s not real Mexican food, Chanyeol,” you said trying to stifle back laughter.

“Yes it is! They’re tacos and burritos! What’s the difference?”

“(Y/N), shut the fuck up. In this house, we sleep in the middle of the night into the goddamn morning,” Damon interjected from down the hall.

“Okay, my bad, I’m sorry,” you called out quietly.

“Who are you talking to?” Chanyeol asked, his voice stern.

“No one,” you replied simply.

“It didn’t sound like no one,” he retaliated. Here we go, you thought.

“Chanyeol, it was Damon. I just told you I was home,” your voice expressing your annoyance.

“You sure you went home and not to your new client’s house?” his attitude completely changing back into the Chanyeol that you least liked.

“Don’t be like that, the sun is out and it’s basically daytime already,” you whispered. “Who am I going to see now?” You pointed at the window as if he was there to see it.

“So why are you whispering?” he doubted.

“Because I don’t wanna wake up Damon and Maya,” you explained, hoping you two could go back to talking about food. But you knew it was over.

“I see, well...it is pretty early. I should get my day started,” he said flatly. You made your way to your room and closed the door behind you.

“Are you going to sleep?” you asked with concern. You heard him sigh on the other side of the phone.

“No I’ll be fine,” again, his tone was flat. You leaned against the wall and threw your hands up in frustration.

“You have to sleep. Even if it’s for a li--”

“I said, I’ll be fine. Don't worry about me,” there was a silence. Just as you were going to say something, he beat you to it. “Look, I’m gonna go. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”

Before you got to get a word in, he hung up on you. You let the phone fall to the ground as you stomped to your bed. You threw yourself on top, letting your face be suffocated by the many pillows that adorned your bed. Out of pure frustration, you let out a wailing scream, right into the pillow.

“Shut uuuuup!” you heard coming from Damon or Maya’s room. You couldn’t hear over your own screams, physically and mentally. Chanyeol always promised to protect you but he couldn’t protect you from the two things that hurt you the most, his jealousy and yourself. As you laid there, you thought about it more clearly.

It wasn’t like his jealousy wasn’t justified. Granted he didn’t know about Jin, but Jin was lovely. A very handsome man with a great sense of humor and a laugh that could fill you up with joy. At the end of the day, you didn’t love Jin. You loved Chanyeol. Or at least that’s what you were telling yourself.

The truth of it is, Jin fucked you up. He showed you a tenderness and passion that Chanyeol never showed. Chanyeol was fast sex, crazy rough sex accompanied by an intense and intimate cuddling after. But Jin was the opposite. Jin was slow and observant. He wanted to feel you every inch of you, indulge you and get drunk off your body. He was soft and gentle. Chanyeol is rugged and intoxicating.

But you were used to rugged and intoxicating. One could say that it was a type you had. But your mind was flooding back to Jin. The way his lips felt on your body, like a feather landing on the ground. His hands weren’t roaming your body, they were investigating. Memorizing your every curve and imperfection.

Suddenly, you felt yourself get hot. Thinking about Jin, even after Chanyeol fucked you into his mattress just a few hours ago, was exciting you. Your hand made its way down to the source of your heat. You pried your lips open and placed a finger on your clit, moving against it slowly.

Jin spilled into your mind again as you rubbed more vigorously. You thought about his lips engulfing your nipple, sucking and circling his tongue around it. The way he rubbed your pussy up and down, making you melt in his hand. You toyed your entrance with your fingertips as you thought back to his fingers in your mouth, tasting yourself.

“Oppa doesn’t like games.” His voice echoed in your head as you inserted a finger inside you, envisioning in your head that it was Jin pumping into you. You closed your eyes and saw him looking down at you. That glistening skin, those plush full lips. Faster and faster you pumped into yourself. Wanting Jin, needing him. Your hips bucked at the thought of his cock swelling in you. That gaze he shot at you before he came.

“Come for oppa, jagi. Come for me.”

It was like you could feel his breath on your face. His voice was so crisp in your head. You thrashed your head back and let that familiar wave of utter bliss run through you, and drip down all over your fingers. When you pulled out, you laid there with your eyes closed, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

The only thought you could think of was, What the fuck is wrong with me? You had just gotten dicked down but a man you were sure you loved and now you’re touching yourself at the thought of another. Strangely enough, the guilt you felt precious started to tear into you. But why? You thought. Why do I even fucking care?

As you let your sleep consume you, the last thing you were able to think of was Jin, cupping your face the way he did gazing at you like you were the only woman in the world.

A/N ;; Tell me what you think guys! I'm trying to post all my chapters as soon as I'm done with them. Like I said, the Chanyeol x (Y/N) x Seokjin interaction is coming soon. I promise!