#so if this one gets done in time then i'm thinking it can come out then
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Oops, forgot to block.
But anyways, it seems like you don't understand.
Let me put it like this for you.
You have been provided links with proof [that I'm sure you didn't even touch.] And instead of bringing up any point related to them you stick to your same arguments.
I asked you a simple yes or no question, and you seem to have taken it personally. It doesn't matter to me what you think the answer is, because the answer is always no. An infertile woman is just as much of a woman as any other. We are what we want to be. Your words mean nothing to me, and other peoples identity. [which let me remind you *again* that you've been provided links in the comments which explain this stuff better than I ever could]
[And let me tell you something. Just because we can't have kids right now doesn't mean it'll remain that way in the future. I believe that something will be figured out later in the future that will allow trans-people to be able to reproduce with their new reproductive apparatuses. Whether that takes years or decades doesn't matter. It'll happen.]
You used word meanings as "arguments". May I remind you that, words were created far before any research was done on this matter? [Not exaclty sure when or how much words change but I'm almost sure it's a pretty slow process, so they might be a bit or alot outdated. Not sure though.] And that maybe instead of etymology, you should be looking at psychology, and biology? [Links in the comments~] Trying to use words meanings as arguments doesn't really work out that well when we're not talking about words but people.
[And by the way. Where is your evidence? You've been provided links explaining this stuff, yet when pressed, you only choose to go to ... a dictionary? Really?]
[Also, since you've stooped into insults let me get in on that action.]
Why do you care so much? Like really. Why does this matter that much to you? Are you that miserable that the only joy you get is by hating on other people being themselves and happy?
Look, I know it's hard to find a purpose in life, or a job, but it'd be alot easier if you stopped being a prick and just let people be themselves. There's no reason to hate people who literally don't affect you in any shape or form. They're just being themselves. Cope. [Your final reminder that there are links in the comments!~]
Or do you just refuse to grow up and understand that it doesn't matter what you say. People will be themselves and happier than you will ever be?
I am not a debator. I'm just some angry penguin on the internet. I have left my piece here. And I won't forget to block this time. May this be the last time I see your miserable blog on my feed.
And for everyone else who comes across this post, trans or otherwise. Your identity is Valid. You know yourselves better than some stranger on the internet. Or anyone who's not you. Because it's Your Identity. Not these peoples.
Do not let the hateful words of bigots make you feel bad about youself. You are the only one who can choose your identity. Not some idiots on the internet. You. And let me say this again Your identity is always valid. No matter what others say. ❤️
Goodbye. 👋
[Even if you reply to this, I'm not wasting anymore of my time on you John. You've been given links, read them. The same goes for any asshole who wants to start another argument. I do not care for you. Find someone else to deal with your bullshit.]
Facts matter. #VoteBlue
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best lover —
pairing : bf!taesan x gn!reader
summary : after taesan works hard for the newest comeback you wanted to get him a gift... something perfect. but you don't know what exactly to get him so you get help from his roommate.
warnings : fluff, angst (just a little bit), tense confrontation, some music references, taesan gets kinda jealous, kind of a continuation of this fic
a/n : this lowkey made me relapse into the emo/punk genre and now i'm actively listening to them again ! taesan so silly here.
queueing : best lover - bibi, and july - heize + dean
[requested]
— wc : 4.8k — not proof read —
you’ve always known taesan was cool.
not in the tryhard way, not in the way people force an image to seem untouchable. no, he’s effortlessly cool. the kind of cool that comes from simply existing, from being so unapologetically himself that it draws people in.
his aesthetic is proof of that—dark clothes, silver rings, an ever-growing collection of band tees that he claims aren’t a collection but still seem to multiply every time you see him. his playlists are filled with gritty guitar riffs and melancholic lyrics, songs that feel like they belong in a coming-of-age film.
you love it. you love the way he leans against walls like a movie character, the way his fingers tap out drum beats on tables when he’s lost in thought. the way his voice gets softer when he talks about music, when he lets his guard down just enough for you to see the warmth underneath.
so, when their comeback is finally announced, when you see the hours of training, late-night rehearsals, and exhaustion culminate into something incredible, you know you need to do something. something that says, i see you. i see how hard you’ve worked, and i’m proud of you.
but what do you get someone like taesan?
he’s never been the type to want extravagant gifts. he shrugs off praise, mumbles “it’s nothing” when people tell him he’s done well. but you know he keeps every little note fans give him, that he still has the random trinkets the members bought him over the years.
so it has to be something personal. something that actually means something.
you think about it for days, running through ideas in your head. clothes? no, too easy. he already has everything he likes. accessories? maybe, but he’s picky, and you don’t trust yourself to pick out something he’d actually wear.
and then it hits you.
vinyls.
taesan loves music in a way that’s deeper than just listening. he collects records, always talking about how certain albums sound different on vinyl, how the warmth and crackle make it feel more alive. you’ve seen the way he runs his fingers over the covers, the way he carefully places them on his turntable like he’s handling something sacred.
but you don’t know enough about it.
you know the bands he listens to, sure, but not the specific pressings, not which editions are worth having, not which ones he’s been searching for. you need help.
so, you text the only person who would know and would be the most help.
sungho.
—
you: hey, random question, but do you think you could help me with something?
he replies almost immediately.
sungho: depends. am i gonna regret saying yes?
you snort. typical.
you: no, it’s for taesan. i wanna get him some vinyls, but i don’t know which ones he’d actually want.
a pause. then—
sungho: oh. you’re going ot make him a happy boyfriend for sure. sungho: yeah, i can help. you free tomorrow?
relief washes over you.
you: yeah. thanks, sungho. seriously.
sungho: don’t thank me yet. wait till we actually find something good.
you smile, pocketing your phone.
this is a good plan. a perfect plan.
now, you just have to keep it a secret.
the next morning, you wake up with a nervous excitement buzzing under your skin.
taesan is still half-asleep when you see him, his hair messy from sleep, the collar of his oversized shirt slipping down one shoulder. he looks soft like this, different from his usual sharp edges and guarded expressions.
“morning,” you say, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before he can grumble in protest.
he mumbles something incoherent, eyes still closed, before reaching out and lazily wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.
you laugh, poking his side. “i have to go out for a bit.”
that wakes him up a little. his eyes blink open, groggy but alert. “where?”
you freeze for half a second before forcing yourself to play it cool. “just running errands.”
his brow furrows slightly, but he doesn’t question it. instead, he just tightens his grip around you for a moment before letting go.
“be safe,” he mumbles, voice still thick with sleep.
your heart squeezes at that.
you brush his hair out of his face, letting your fingers linger for a second longer than necessary. “always.”
—
meeting up with sungho feels like a mission.
he’s already waiting outside the taesan's dorm room, dressed casually but still effortlessly put together, a stark contrast to the slightly chaotic energy you’re bringing with you.
“you look nervous,” he says, amused.
“because i am.”
he raises an eyebrow. “it’s just vinyl shopping.”
“yeah, but it’s for taesan,” you stress. “i can’t mess this up. i need to find something perfect.”
sungho rolls his eyes but leads the way inside the vinyl store, hidden in the corners of the busy streets.
the moment you step in, you’re overwhelmed.
rows and rows of records stretch out in front of you, organized into sections you barely understand. the store smells like old paper and something nostalgic, a quiet hum of music playing from the speakers.
sungho glances at you. “you know what bands he likes, right?”
you nod. “yeah, but i don’t know what he already has.”
“then we start with the basics.”
he guides you through the aisles, pointing out albums that fit taesan’s taste. some are obvious bands you’ve seen on his playlists, artists you recognize from the posters in his room. others, not so much.
“this one’s a classic,” sungho says, pulling out a worn-looking album. “he’s mentioned it before, i think he even has a t-shirt of them.”
it was the black parade by my chemical romance
you take it from him, running your fingers over the cover. “do you think he already has the vinyl?”
sungho shakes his head. “nah, he would’ve bragged about it if he did.”
you smile at that. taesan isn’t the bragging type, not really, but when it comes to things he loves, he can’t help but share them with you. you can already picture the way his eyes will light up when he sees the gift, the way he’ll trace the album cover with careful fingers before hugging you in that quiet, deliberate way of his.
this is good. this is exactly what you wanted.
you glance at sungho. “i think we’re on the right track.”
he smirks. “told you.”
you roll your eyes but can’t hide your grin.
this is going to be perfect.
if you can keep it a secret long enough.
you flip through the stacks carefully, the plastic sleeves crinkling under your fingertips as you skim the selection. rows of album covers stare back at you, some bold and vibrant, others muted and mysterious, each one a different piece of someone’s story.
sungho stands beside you, already pulling out records with ease, flipping them over to check editions and pressings like it’s second nature.
“how do you even know all this?” you ask, watching as he inspects a black-and-white cover, his eyes narrowing slightly before he shakes his head and puts it back.
he smirks. “taesan’s not the only one with taste, you know.”
you roll your eyes. “yeah, but you act like this is your second home.”
he hums, running his fingers along the edge of a shelf. “it kinda is. when i first moved into the dorms, i’d come to places like this just to kill time. got to know a lot about music that way.”
that makes sense. sungho has that effortless, older-brother energy, the kind that makes you feel like he’s always been one step ahead of everyone else. but even so, you know there’s more to it. something about the way he says it, like music was a comfort rather than just a hobby.
you glance down at the album in your hands. the artwork is dramatic, painted in deep reds and blacks, the kind of thing you could easily imagine taesan leaving out on his desk just because it looks cool. it was titled a fever you can’t sweat out this time, by panic at the disco
you hesitate. “what about this one?”
sungho looks over, and to your relief, he nods in approval. “solid pick. taesan likes them. they have that whole raw, gritty sound he’s into.”
you exhale, setting it aside in the growing pile of vinyls you’ve picked out. “good. i was kinda guessing.”
sungho snickers. “if you were completely guessing, you would’ve picked something embarrassing.”
you give him a flat look. “i wouldn’t do that.”
“you sure? no boyband vinyls hidden in that stack?”
“why are you acting like that would be a crime?”
he laughs, shaking his head. “nah, but taesan would probably combust.”
you grin at the thought. he probably would. his whole tough, brooding image crumbling the second someone dared to associate him with anything remotely bright and upbeat. you’ve teased him about it before, played pop songs in his presence just to watch him pretend he wasn’t listening.
but this isn’t about teasing him. this is about him.
you glance around the store, taking in the dim lighting, the faint sound of a record spinning in the background. a few other customers linger nearby, flipping through vinyls with the same careful reverence, but none of them seem rushed. it’s the kind of place taesan would get lost in, taking his time with every shelf, soaking in the atmosphere.
you wish he was here.
you shake the thought away before it can settle too deep.
“okay,” you say, straightening up. “i think i need at least one more.”
sungho scans the shelves before reaching over and pulling out a record without hesitation.
“this.”
you take it from him, studying the cover. it’s striking… american idiot by greenday.
“he’s been looking for this one,” sungho explains. “i remember him complaining about how it’s always out of stock.”
your chest warms. “then that’s perfect.”
sungho grins. “congrats, you officially have a good gift… or multiple”
you roll your eyes but can’t help but smile. “thanks for the approval.”
“anytime.”
you head to the counter, placing the records down carefully as the cashier rings them up. the prices make you wince a little. vinyl collecting is not cheap. but you don’t hesitate. taesan is worth it.
when you step back outside, the air feels cooler, a slight breeze brushing against your skin. sungho stretches beside you, squinting up at the sky.
“so,” he says. “how are you planning to give it to him?”
you blink. “uh. just... give it to him?”
he gives you a flat look. “you’re really bad at this.”
“excuse me?”
“c’mon,” he says. “you go through all this trouble, sneak around just to surprise him, and you’re just gonna hand it to him like it’s a bag of chips?”
you frown. “what am i supposed to do? make a scavenger hunt?”
“i mean, that would be funny.”
“sungho.”
he chuckles. “fine, fine. but at least make it a moment, you know? like, put them in a nice box or something. set the mood a little.”
you consider that. he’s right. you don’t just want this to be a casual exchange. you want taesan to feel how much this means.
“okay,” you say slowly. “i’ll think of something.”
sungho pats your shoulder. “good. because if you don’t, i’m telling him i helped.”
you gasp. “you wouldn’t.”
his grin is downright evil. “try me.”
you groan, shoving him lightly as he laughs.
but despite the teasing, there’s a warmth in your chest that wasn’t there before. because for all the effort, all the second-guessing, all the overthinking. you know this is the right thing to do.
you just hope taesan sees it that way, too.
you and sungho are now wandering the streets, bags in hand, the weight of them a constant reminder of what you're keeping from taesan. there's a knot in your stomach, anxiety creeping in at the thought of what will happen once you return to the dorm.
sungho notices you fidgeting with your phone, eyes flicking between your screen and the road ahead. "you've been checking your messages like every two seconds," he says with a knowing smile. "taesan giving you trouble?"
"i... i don’t know," you mutter, glancing at your phone again. "he hasn’t texted yet. i think he’s mad."
sungho snorts. "he’s always mad."
you roll your eyes but can't help the tension building inside you. it's not like taesan to be suspicious like this. sure, he's possessive at times, but you’ve always been upfront with him. today, though, everything feels off. you know he’s probably wondering where you are, especially after leaving so abruptly.
after a few more moments of walking, your phone buzzes in your hand. it’s a message from taesan.
you open it quickly, your heart dropping when you read the text.
taesan: where are you?
you can almost hear the frustration in his words, even though they’re so short. you hesitate for a moment, trying to figure out how to respond. the last thing you want is to reveal anything.
“everything okay?” sungho asks, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow.
“yeah,” you say quickly, typing back a response. "just... running… errands…"
you: just out. why?
you hit send and try to push the worry away. but it doesn’t help when your phone buzzes again, another message from taesan.
taesan: are you by yourself?
your stomach tightens. it feels like he’s fishing for something, trying to confirm his suspicions. you swallow hard. taesan doesn’t know you’re out with sungho. he probably thinks you’re just alone, maybe out with someone else. the thought of him jumping to conclusions makes you tense up.
“you need to tell him the truth, man,” sungho says, half-joking but still serious. “it’s gonna be hard to keep it up much longer.”
you bite your lip, looking at the text again. taesan doesn’t like being kept in the dark. but if you tell him you're out with sungho, there's no way you can keep the surprise a secret.
you: yeah, just me. out by myself.
you send the message quickly, almost immediately regretting it. the lie feels wrong in your gut, but you can’t risk ruining the surprise.
as soon as you hit send, another text from taesan comes through.
taesan: you didn’t tell me where you went. it’s weird, you know. don’t lie to me.
your heart sinks. this is exactly what you were afraid of. you can feel his frustration radiating through the words, even though they’re brief. taesan might not say it outright, but you know he’s pissed.
“is he mad?” sungho asks, eyes narrowing as he watches you.
“yeah,” you say quietly, looking at the screen again. “he thinks i’m lying.”
sungho tilts his head, his expression softening. “well, you kind of are...”
you groan, feeling guilty. “yeah, but if i tell him the truth, he’ll know what we’re really doing.”
sungho sighs but doesn’t press. “you’ve got to be careful, though. taesan can’t stand being lied to. he might feel like you’re hiding something else.”
you take a deep breath, trying to push the anxiety aside. “he’s just overthinking it. i’ll deal with it when we get back.”
you walk in silence for a bit longer, and the weight of the lie is starting to feel unbearable. but then your phone buzzes again. it’s from taesan.
taesan: riwoo just told me you’re out with sungho. why didn’t you say that?
your heart stops. it feels like everything is crashing down around you. of course, taesan would hear from riwoo. he always does. but you didn’t think it would happen so soon.
sungho laughs lightly, though it’s more nervous than anything else. “i mean, it’s not like you didn’t want him to find out.”
you stare at the message, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration. “he’s so mad now...”
“you better fix it,” sungho says with a small chuckle. “he’s gonna blow up on you if you keep avoiding the truth.”
you sigh, rubbing your eyes. “i don’t know how to fix it. i’ve already lied twice.”
“well,” sungho says, “maybe you just gotta... tell him the truth at this point. no more hiding.”
but you’re not ready to do that. not yet. the surprise is too important to mess up now.
you type out a message, your hands shaking a little as you try to keep it steady.
you: i’m sorry. we just bumped into eachothee
you press send, waiting for taesan’s response with bated breath.
it takes a while, but finally, your phone buzzes.
taesan: it was a coincidence?
you let out a sigh of relief. it's not as bad as it could have been, but you still feel like you’ve messed up.
you: yeah, i went out to grab some stuff, and boom, sungho was there getting some stuff for the dorm too
you wait for a reply, and when it comes, it’s still not as angry as you expected, but you can hear the frustration in taesan’s words.
taesan: you know, you could’ve just told me. i don’t like when you hide stuff from me.
your heart drops, and you feel guilty again. you want to explain yourself, but you’re afraid it’ll make everything worse.
“he’s really pissed now,” you say quietly to sungho, who nods sympathetically.
“you should’ve just told him earlier,” he says, though his tone is more playful than critical. “now you gotta go back and fix it.”
you take a deep breath, realizing sungho’s right. you’re going to have to deal with the fallout when you get back to the dorm.
you decide on sungho’s dorm since taesan is rooming with woonhak and jaehyun so it would be perfect to wrap his gift all together and put final touched on it.
but once you open the door, you stand frozen at the door of sungho’s dorm, heart hammering in your chest. the moment taesan walks in, everything about the room shifts. his presence fills the space, and even though he’s not saying anything yet, you feel the weight of his gaze.
“so, this is where you’ve been?” taesan’s voice cuts through the silence. it’s sharper than usual, colder too. he looks at you, then at sungho, his eyes narrowing. “i thought you said you were by yourself.”
you feel your breath catch in your throat. his words hit harder than expected, but you force a smile, trying to keep your cool. “i was… i mean, i am.”
taesan tilts his head, his eyes scanning you like he’s trying to figure out if you’re lying. you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “i just bumped into sungho, we were talking, and i guess riwoo saw us leave together.” you’re already regretting how this sounds, but you can’t back down now. you have to keep the lie intact.
“bumped into sungho?” taesan’s voice drips with suspicion. “so it’s just a coincidence you were both out together?”
you nod quickly, hoping he buys it. “yeah, we were just… talking, you know? nothing serious. i just didn’t want to bother you while you were busy.”
taesan crosses his arms, studying you with a sharp gaze. “that doesn’t sound right.”
the air between you two feels like it’s crackling with tension. you swallow hard, knowing you can’t let him get too suspicious. “it’s really nothing, taesan. you know i wouldn’t lie to you about this.”
“you wouldn’t, huh?” taesan says slowly, his tone soft but with a dangerous edge. “then why didn’t you just tell me? why go through all this just to cover up some… coincidence?”
you flinch slightly at his words, the guilt gnawing at you. but you won’t break. you can’t spoil the surprise now. not when everything is so close to being perfect.
“i didn’t want to bother you with the details,” you say, hoping he buys it. “i just figured i’d spend some time with sungho, that’s all.” you glance at sungho for a moment, but he’s standing still, like he’s unsure whether to step in.
taesan watches you for a long beat, and you can see the wheels turning in his mind. his expression hardens. “so you thought it’d be better to lie to me, to sneak around?”
your chest tightens, the weight of his words sinking in deeper than you expected. “taesan, it’s not like that.”
“really?” taesan’s voice rises, a hint of frustration creeping in. “because that’s exactly what it sounds like. i don’t know, it’s just hard to believe that you’re not hiding something. are you trying to cover something up?”
you feel your heart race. this is spiraling out of control, and you don’t know how to stop it. the last thing you want is for him to think you’re doing something behind his back.
“taesan, please,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “you’re overthinking this. i didn’t want to tell you because i didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.” you force yourself to look him in the eye, trying to convey sincerity. “it’s nothing, really.”
taesan doesn’t respond right away. he’s still standing there, arms crossed, eyes cold as he studies you. you feel like he’s dissecting every word you’ve said, trying to figure out if you’re being honest or not.
“so what, this is all just some coincidence?” taesan asks again, voice dripping with doubt. “you just happened to be with sungho, and riwoo just happened to see you leaving together?”
you nod quickly, trying to sound convincing. “yeah, that’s it. it’s just a coincidence, taesan.”
taesan lets out a long breath, his frustration simmering just under the surface. he doesn’t seem convinced, but he doesn’t push further. yet.
“you’re making this harder than it needs to be,” you say, trying to change the subject. “it’s nothing. seriously.”
taesan stays quiet, his eyes narrowing, still unconvinced. “i don’t know if i believe you, but fine. if you say so.”
there’s a moment of silence between you two, and you can almost feel the distance growing between you. you want to tell him the truth, but you can’t risk it. not yet.
“you didn’t need to lie to me, you know,” taesan says softly, his gaze softer but still guarded. “you could’ve just told me where you were. there wouldn’t have been any problem.”
“i know,” you say, your heart sinking. “but i didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”
the moment you say it, you regret it. taesan’s eyes flash with confusion, but he doesn’t say anything. he just watches you, waiting.
“what surprise?” taesan asks, the suspicion back in his voice.
you hesitate, panic rising. you can’t tell him, not yet. not when you’re this close.
“it’s nothing,” you say quickly, forcing a smile. “i just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”
taesan’s gaze sharpens again. “you’re lying. i can tell.”
you want to scream, to tell him the truth, but you stay silent, your heart heavy with the pressure of it all.
“you’ve been hiding something from me, haven’t you?” taesan asks, his voice quiet now, as if he’s piecing everything together.
you look away, unable to meet his eyes. you can’t keep lying, but you can’t give in either. not yet.
“taesan, please,” you whisper. “just trust me. i don’t want to hurt you.”
he sighs, his expression softening just a little. “i trust you, but it’s hard when you keep lying to me. i just don’t get why you couldn’t tell me what was going on.”
you open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. your throat feels tight, and your mind is racing, trying to figure out how to get yourself out of this mess.
“i’m sorry,” you finally say, your voice barely audible. “i didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
taesan looks at you for a long moment, his face softening a bit. “it’s fine,” he says quietly. “but next time, just tell me. no more lies.”
you nod, relieved but still filled with guilt.
there’s a long silence, and then you finally reach into your bag and pull out the vinyl and the trinkets you picked out for him. you hold them out to him, your hands shaking.
“here,” you say softly, voice full of apology. “i got these for you. i… i thought you’d like them.”
taesan takes the items slowly, his expression unreadable. after a few moments, he looks up at you. “you didn’t have to do this,” he says, his voice softening. “but… thanks.”
you smile weakly, still feeling the weight of everything. “i’m sorry for making you mad.”
taesan sighs, stepping closer to you. “it’s okay. just promise me no more lies, alright?”
“promise,” you say quietly.
and for the first time in what feels like forever, the tension begins to melt away. taesan pulls you into a hug, and you let yourself relax, knowing that you’ll have to make things right.
but for now, you’re just grateful that he’s still here.
taesan is silent for a long time, just staring at the vinyls in his hands. his fingers trace over the covers, his expression unreadable.
you shift nervously, waiting for some kind of reaction. was this too much? was this not what he would’ve liked? sungho had assured you it was a good choice, but now, standing here with taesan’s gaze locked onto the gift, doubt creeps in.
“you really did all this for me?” taesan finally asks, voice quieter now.
you nod quickly. “of course i did. you just had a comeback, and i wanted to get you something that actually fit your taste. something you’d really like.”
he exhales slowly, his grip tightening around the vinyls for a second before he looks up at you. his expression has softened completely, the cold edge gone. instead, there’s something else… something warmer.
“you’re an idiot,” he mutters, but there’s no bite to his words. in fact, his lips twitch slightly, like he’s trying not to smile. “you could’ve just told me.”
“and ruin the surprise?” you huff, crossing your arms. “not a chance.”
taesan sighs, shaking his head. “you made me worry for nothing.”
“i didn’t mean to,” you mumble, guilt creeping back in.
he looks at you for another long second before stepping forward, wrapping his arms around you. his hold is firm, secure, like he’s grounding himself in your presence.
you blink, surprised at the sudden affection, but quickly melt into the embrace. his scent is familiar, and the warmth of his body makes all the stress from earlier fade.
“don’t do that again,” he mutters into your hair. “just tell me next time.”
you nod against his chest. “okay. i promise.”
he pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you, his dark eyes still holding a bit of lingering frustration. but it’s different now. less about suspicion, more about the fact that you worried him.
his eyes flicker to sungho, and his warmth disappears just slightly as he levels a glare at him. “and you,” he says, narrowing his eyes.
sungho raises his hands defensively. “hey, don’t look at me like that. i was just helping.”
“helping,” taesan repeats, clearly not convinced. “spending hours alone with y/n, keeping secrets, sneaking around.”
sungho rolls his eyes. “yeah, yeah, i get it. i’d be mad too. but it’s not like that.”
“doesn’t matter,” taesan grumbles, still glaring. “you still got too comfortable.”
you groan, tugging at his sleeve. “taesan, please. it’s not like we were on a date or something.”
taesan clicks his tongue but lets it go, instead looking back at the items in his hands. now that he’s actually processing it, his expression shifts, like he’s finally realizing what you got him, without the worry of why you were lying.
“wait,” he mutters, flipping it over. “this album… where did you find this?”
you grin. “special store sungho knew about. he helped me find the best ones.”
taesan pauses for a moment, then looks at you again, softer this time. “you really went through all this trouble just to get me something i’d like?”
you scoff. “of course i did. i love you, you idiot.”
his ears turn red. it’s subtle, but you notice it. he looks away, clearing his throat. “you’re the idiot,” he mumbles, gripping the vinyls like it’s the most precious thing in the world. “but… thanks.”
he pulls you into another hug, holding you tight, like he doesn’t want to let go.
and just like that, everything feels right again.
#kaiyunsim#kpop x reader#kpop x gn reader#kpop x gender neutral reader#boynextdoor#boynextdoor x reader#bnd#bnd x reader#boynextdoor fluff#boynextdoor angst#bnd fluff#bnd angst#taesan#han taesan#han dongmin#taesan x reader#han taesan x reader#taesan x gn reader#han taesan x gn reader#han dongmin x reader#taesan fluff#taesan angst#han dongmin fluff#han dongmin angst
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Maybe I’m that one oomf that’s too woke, but I have a feeling that people being weird about jayvik is a sign of Bad Things on the rise =/ I’m old as balls and I’ve been in fandom spaces since late 2000s, and I’ve never seen people act so hostile towards a fanon mlm ship. I mean precisely in women and queer dominated fandom spaces, dudebros never change, whatever. And of course there were always ship wars. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen people act so oppressed over being into het ships, crash out over their ships not being endgame and demand from fandom content creators to accommodate them. What is happening.
I think this started happening around 2023~ to be more precise bc that's when i started getting weird ass entitled comments on OTHER gay ships. IMHO the real issue here is that we are going through fandom clash with a newgen that did not experience early internet and they take the gayness in fandom spaces completely for granted. As in, they think these little niche holes we've built are the de facto 'effortless norm' and minimize the work that's been done to create these safe spaces. This is the kind of rhetoric i keep seeing pop up:
Many of them have also grown up almost exclusively interacting with art created by old fandom graduates where queerness is presented casually. They're not watching shit from the 90's or 00's. They're not adults, so they don't have a personal contrast experience seeing that 'rep' dwindling consistently over the years. They don't remember a time before this and don't know how bad it was.
OFC there are always old ass conservative weirdos riding on this wave to be even more annoying (certain infamous viktor stan accs... lol!) but #backtotradition rightwing bullshit has been on the rise worldwide, and so are the viral tiktok tradwife alphamale detransition white supremacy grifters. Its a larger cultural problem feeding into the micro stuff we see daily and it's terrible. It's also why I tune this shit out and I stand my ground. I'll draw what I WANT to draw and I'm not going to be twisting myself into pretzel shapes to appeal to anyone and everyone; go get YOUR shit elsewhere!
I *do* think people have been getting way more entitled towards fanworks, and that comes with a heightened level of apathy. You can notice this on the decreased number and quality of feedback across twitter, as an example (seeing as that place has been consumed by the conservative grifter wave) but it's also been reported by every fic writer who's consistently used AO3 for years. Tags on tumblr aren't as widely used. The focus on 'community' has been replaced by 'DOES THIS MAXIMIZE ENGAGEMENT?'. I know from personal experience that there is this one specific asshole who, for almost a year now, has been trawling the trans viktor tag and leaving insanely long transphobic critique comments on works of newer writers to discourage them from writing. (They are always on the cusp of open violent transphobia, but shittily cloaked as 'debates' on ~natural biology~ and fantasy logic so they don't get banned. If you've seen the ao3 pfp of a smirking white haired woman before you know who im talking about.)
Things have been Bad and on the Rise for a while now. Look at the current shit on the news. Look at the presidencies around the world. And it's going to get worse before it gets better, because it always does; that's what forces people to wake up. Be annoying. Be watchful. Don't waste your time platforming or debating weirdos that should be left to die on obscurity - this is how trump got a memeable platform, and look at where we are now. Protect your peace.
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to not know who i am, but still know that i'm good long as you're here with me - jack hughes
pairing: jack hughes x original female character
warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, nothing much else i can think of!
inspired by + title: i like me better by lauv
word count: 6.4k
author's note: hello everyone!! i feel like i've been in such a rut lately but i'm glad i managed to write this one out! this is for the lovely @wyattjohnston for her winter fic exchange 2k25. demi, thank you as always for your hard work in putting this together and i hope you enjoy. sorry that it's a few days late! to everyone, please let me know what you think!!
*****
When Maia Flaherty left her usual lunchtime coffee run with a number from one very Jack Hughes, she didn’t really quite know what to think.
“No pressure,” he had said with an easy smile. “I just think you’re pretty and the glare you gave that couple that was making out at the table next to you sold it for me.”
As she stares out on her train ride home, she’s deep in thought. This might be just a one date thing and then they find out they have nothing in common and they move on. But she knows herself. She doesn’t fall fast, but when she falls, she falls hard. What if she ends up falling harder than him, setting herself up for heartbreak. But she knows that’s also unfair to him, especially because she doesn’t know him. She appreciates his boldness in asking her out, but she doesn’t understand how he can be so confident and sure that he wants to go on a date with her. To be fair, maybe he’s only looking for something casual, to which she has even less of an idea of how to handle it, because she has never done casual and doesn’t think she could do it.
As she’s walking the streets back to her place in West Village, she thinks about how to approach this. Knowing her, she’s too curious to not text him and she probably will think on it over the weekend. But, should she protect herself and go into this as just meeting a friend or go into this romantically? She admits that he is cute and she was the slightest bit charmed by him, but she knows that she knows nothing else about him. She takes the time to look up some of his highlights of his career (he had dropped his Instagram handle to her “just so you know I’m a real person”) and she knows that he’s good. Almost annoyingly good. As a University of Minnesota alum, she’s familiar enough with hockey as a whole. She stalks his Instagram and doesn’t find anything much besides posts with family, friends and teammates. Pretty average. But she’s still weary.
Monday morning rolls around, and on her train to work, she takes a deep breath, clicking on his contact and copy and pasting what she had written last night.
hi!!! it’s maia from the cafe. if the offer still stands, i’d love to go out on that date
Not even a minute later, and she gets a response.
what a wonderful text to get on a Monday morning
the offer absolutely still stands. what’s your schedule looking like this week?
not around during regular people work hours so monday-friday 9-5 won’t work
my weekend is pretty empty atm but idk if that works for you? i’m assuming you have games this week
no games this weekend, for once. all weeknight games.
lucky timing
lucky indeed. you around Saturday for lunch?
works for me!
you’re in jersey right? i can come out to you if that’s easier
are you kidding me?
i’m not gonna make you come out to me, especially because I’m the one who asked you out
where are you in the city? I’ll come to you
She smiles to herself.
I’m in west village, but i can meet you anywhere
i’ll do some research after practice and get back to you?
sure
i also can suggest some places as well!!
appreciate it. i got it though. i’m the one who asked so I feel like it’d be unfair to ask you to plan
Huh, she thinks, being surprised again. She doesn’t have much to compare to, but she can’t remember a single date she’s been on where she hasn’t been the one planning.
okay lmk if you need my help! no rush we have a whole week
(Jack has a break in a morning practice and he’s just staring at his phone with the biggest smile on his face. His teammates are all making fun of him, but he pays them no mind. It’s not new for them to poke fun at him for texting girls, but he knows, he just knows that this one is different.
He also kinda likes the idea of “we.”)
kinda wish we didn’t
oh?
saturday is so far away
you’ll survive
She gets into the office just then and her phone is forgotten as she’s thrown into spreadsheets and meetings. It isn’t until 4 p.m. where she has the mental energy and time to look at his responses. The last text he had sent was two hours ago.
i found a place. well, a couple
i asked some of my friends who know the city better than I do
*screenshot of list in Notes app*
i tried to find places in different parts of Manhattan, mostly in West Village. i don’t know where exactly in that area you are and how easy or hard it is for you to get wherever
sorry, just realized I’m spamming you and you’re probably working
I’m so sorry i left you hanging work was literally insane until now
honestly all of these places sound wonderful
i’ve been to a couple of them before so tell your friends they have good taste
any one in particular you like?
you choose
since you’re planning it after all
lol
i really don’t want you having to travel that far
i literally live in nyc so if I want to see any of my friends who don’t live by me I have to travel far
and you’re literally coming from jersey
i’ll be fine with any choice you make
seriously
He chooses one of her favorite Greek food joints about 10 blocks from where she is and she tries to put it away in her mind. She still has this whole week to go. She’s known for years that she gets overwhelmed and stressed if she thinks ahead occasionally, and this is definitely one of those times.
(There’s a game on Wednesday night, and her best friend and roommate Carrie urges her to put it on TV in the background while they’re eating dinner. Carrie knows next to nothing about hockey, so Maia tries to explain it to her. But most of the time, she’s quiet and her eyes are zeroed in on 86. Or trying to, because everyone skates so fucking fast. He scores a goal and assists another, and she knows that that’s literally his job, but she can’t help but feel something watching him skate around so confidently.
She’s always respected the skill it takes to play hockey. Skating is hard. But the hockey attitude wasn’t always something that she loved. She understands that she’s projecting a lot of unwarranted judgement. But she doesn't think it’s all based on lies.
As the minutes wind down in the game, she zones out. She really doesn’t understand how or why this literal superstar of the sport just approached her and after knowing literally nothing about her, asked her out. This shit doesn’t happen to her. She also knows the usual crowd that hockey players go for. She’s not blonde. She’s not a model. She’s not anything like that.
What does he want from her?)
*****
She wakes up Saturday morning a bit groggy, thanks to the glasses of wine her and Carrie had the night before. She goes through her morning routine, but decides to forgo the coffee and make a smoothie instead. She usually likes to sip on her coffee for hours rather than down it all in one go. And she knows if she downs it, she’ll start shaking.
She doesn’t need to be shaking today.
Carrie stumbles out when Maia just leaves the bathroom and offers to make a smoothie for her. With a yawn, Carrie nods as she slides past her to go into the bathroom.
It’s 9:48 a.m. They’re meeting right at noon, so she has a bit of time. Her phone buzzes right after she finishes cleaning the blender.
good morning! see you soon
She just sends back a couple of emojis, before scrolling around on her social media accounts, sipping on her smoothie. It’s just the waiting now that’s making her more nervous.
She already knows what she’s gonna wear. An olive green sweater she bought recently that she’s been loving, black leggings, brown booties and earrings that she got years ago when she studied abroad. She’s leaving her hair down and putting some light makeup on. Nothing crazy. This is literally lunch. And she’s not gonna overthink for a boy.
Carrie proves to be a good distraction, simultaneously hyping her up, assuring her and talking about other things to keep her head level. She walks to the subway station and goes on the train, airpods in. This is all routine. The way there is no stranger to her, often meeting up with her brother for dinner around the area.
She checks the time. On time.
She approaches the restaurant’s front at 11:57 and decides to walk in and grab a table. She stops in her tracks when she sees that he’s already there, in the corner by the window that she usually loves to sit at. He’s wearing a gray sweater and blue jeans, a baseball cap flipped backwards on his head. She waves off the hostess and heads in his direction.
He looks up from his phone and immediately locks it, standing up. She smiles in greeting and he comes around to grab her bag as she shrugs off her jacket. She thanks him softly, to which he just smiles back at. As she’s sitting down, he pours out some water.
“You didn’t get lost getting here?” She jokes.
He rolls his eyes. “I’m not that directionally challenged. Just not used to it.”
“That’s what you get for living in Jersey.”
“Oh. So that’s how we’re gonna play this?”
And that just sets the tone for the rest of the date. It’s…surprisingly easy. The follow up question immediately is if she’s from the city, to which she snorts and says “absolutely not,” but she’s been living here for over two years now. She grew up in Buffalo, she says, and went to college at University of Minnesota, to which he, of course, widens his eyes. “You went to Minnesota, and you’re not a hockey fan?” She rolls her eyes. “When did I say I’m not a hockey fan?” She talks about how yes, she went to a couple of games when she was there and they were always fun, but she wasn’t necessarily an avid fan.
He talks about growing up in Toronto even though he was born in Orlando and then going to Michigan and how hockey was literally just his life from a young age, especially with parents who were also involved, as well as an older and a younger brother growing up to play too. Sure, she knows all of this (she couldn’t help herself and did enough research), but it is nice and different to hear from him directly. She does slip for a second and makes fun of his private school upbringing (“It tracks.”) but the shocked delight on his face lets her know that he doesn’t take offense.
As they order the food and it comes and they start eating, she lets herself be charmed. She didn’t expect him to be so…normal. Normal in the way that she often forgot that he was one of the best hockey players in the country. Normal in the way that parts of him remind her of her closest guy friends. But then he would mention something about his career or just a random detail in his life that would make her remember.
She notices that he also is very aware of how much he talks. It’s natural for her to ask more questions, because that’s just how she’s wired, but he turns questions back to her that excite her or make her laugh, and then she goes on a minor tangent. It’s very back and forth. Balanced.
She’s having a really good time.
She expected him to be more…straight-forward in terms of flirting, due to how he asked her out, but he’s not. He seems a bit nervous at times even, chuckling adorably and avoiding eye contact, but then he says something that’s so just so incredibly confident that makes her flustered or let out a scoff of disbelief.
Before they know it, they’re done eating. She protests when he immediately grabs the check and pulls out his card, to which he just playfully glares at her for. She does relent and thanks him, and she’ll never forget the boyish smile he gave her.
They’re both on the same page, not wanting their time together to end quite yet, lingering to leave. And then she suggests grabbing a coffee from a place around the corner and walking to a nearby park. She teases him, asking if he’ll get cold to which he scoffs at (“I’m basically a Canadian and I live at the rink. I’ll be fine. Will you?” She laughs. “I was born and raised in Buffalo. Don’t worry about me.”)
They grab coffee (to which she puts her foot down and pays and he lets her), him a black coffee and her an iced chai, and she leads them leisurely to a nearby park. It’s a little chilly, but it’s not windy which is good, and they find an empty bench and sit down, their conversation and battering just coming so incredibly easy. Even to the point where sometimes, she’s not necessarily calling him out, but she’s challenging some of his thoughts. She’s not shattering his confidence at all, but definitely subtly giving him a reality check and just being honest.
And not even purposefully. It’s just how she is.
(He really appreciates it, actually. It’s been awhile since someone who he’s just met isn’t afraid to challenge him off the rink. He loves the attention and always has, and she’s giving that to him, but there’s also something innate in her that’s so grounded and in turns, grounds him.)
But it’s also different. It’s different when he randomly throws out a compliment here and there, saying how he loves her laugh and how cute she is. The way he’s paying attention to everything she’s saying. The way he just can’t help but chuckle almost incredulously because she’s so much more than he imagined, even though he’s the one who asked her out.
Before they know it, it’s almost 4 and they’ve been chatting the whole time. Yet somehow, it still feels like they could keep going. She walks him to the nearest subway station since it’s on her way home. She gives him a farewell hug and he follows his gut and kisses her on the cheek, promising to text her. She smiles one more time before turning to walk back to her apartment.
When she gets back to her place, Carrie’s there and ready for a recap. She says everything she can remember them talking about, which is a lot, while Carrie just listens carefully. Throughout it, she’s trying to downplay it, probably for self-preservation purposes, looking back. Carrie lets her dwell on it occasionally, but also interrupts when needed to try to assure her friend that she’s a catch and there’s a reason he asked her out in the first place and she can’t play herself down like that.
What she knows for a fact at this point is that she likes spending time with him, and she does have romantic feelings for him. Everything else? She has no idea. She has no idea if they’d pair together well. She has no idea what he wants from this. She has no idea how he actually feels about her, because he could’ve just thrown out those compliments because he’s naturally flirty. It wouldn’t surprise her. And god, she can’t help but let her mind wander into his career and being in the spotlight and how that just affects…everything.
She just doesn’t know.
(Meanwhile, he returns to an empty place, Luke out with some friends for the night. He can’t stop smiling, replaying the whole day in his head. She’s just so much more than he expected, able to keep up with his quips, often beating them. She laughs and smiles so freely. She’s so damn smart. She’s beautiful.
He’s had his fair share of hookups and casual things, but this? This is different. It’s scary, he thinks, that he’s this invested after one date. It’s unfamiliar territory, and there’s so much more he wants to know about her.
He needs to know everything he can about her. Before she figures out that she’s way too good for him.)
*****
Four weeks pass, and they haven’t seen each other. There have been some sporadic texts here and there, but with the chaos of both their jobs and then Thanksgiving, it hasn’t accounted to more than that.
(She’s trying to get over it and let it pass. He wants anything but that)
On an early December evening, Maia’s just finished cleaning up the dishes when she gets a call. When she sees his name, she blinks. She clicks accept.
“Hello?”
“Hi. It’s Jack.”
She can’t help but chuckle a bit. “Yeah, I know. What’s up?”
“How are you? How was your Thanksgiving?”
“I’m doing okay. Thanksgiving was good! I got to go back home for a few days. How about you? Did you even have a break?”
“Not really. I had some family come to watch some games though, so that was nice.”
“I’m sure it was,” she hums.
“Listen-I…I know it’s been awhile.”
“Almost a month.”
“Yeah,” he breathes out guiltily. “I-I’m really sorry about that. I’ve…the season’s just been so crazy and, yeah. I’ve been meaning to reach out sooner, but just, like. Yeah. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine,” she replies automatically. “I get it. Your schedule is crazy. I feel like you have a game every other day.”
“You’ve been keeping up?” He teases lightly.
She rolls her eyes. “A bit more than I used to, sure. But that really doesn’t mean anything.”
He laughs a bit, before settling down into a serious tone. “If you have time, or if you even want to, because I totally understand why you wouldn’t, I’d love to go out again. I just, I had a really good time with you last time. Again, I know I…if you say no, I get it.”
It’s silent for a couple of seconds, but she knows her answer. “I’d love to.”
“Really?”
“Really,” she smiles to herself at his surprised tone. “You surprised?”
“A bit. I mean, I kinda fell off the face of the planet. I would understand if you didn’t want to see me again.”
“Jack.”
“Yeah?”
“When are you free?”
He sighs. “This week? Not much, unfortunately. I’m only around for dinner tomorrow and Friday, and then I’m gone for a few days on a stretch of away games.”
“Wanna do tomorrow?”
“You around?”
She snorts. “I’m not as busy as you are, Mr. NHL. I’m free most weeknights.”
He lets out a low laugh. “Okay, yeah. Tomorrow night’s perfect. I’ll actually be in the city in the afternoon to meet up with a friend so I’ll just stay and meet you around there.”
“Oh good. I don’t have to pretend I want to go to Jersey.”
“This again?”
She laughs. “I can choose this time. Do you know where you’re meeting your friend?
“Yeah. I have his address. Hang on, I’ll send it to you.” Seconds later, her phone buzzes and she briefly looks at the location on Google Maps.
“Oh. Battery Park. That’s close to where I am. You must really like this friend if you’re willing to travel that far. It’s a pretty long way from Newark.”
“Right? That’s what I told him. So, tomorrow night, yeah?”
“Yeah. I can figure out a place and I’ll let you know tomorrow morning the latest if that works? What kind of food do you like?”
“Anything you like.”
“Jack.”
“I mean it.”
“Okay, okay. How does ramen sound?”
“Perfect. I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I’ll text you,”
“See you tomorrow.”
“Can’t wait.”
Tomorrow comes, this time at a lowkey but busy ramen place where they’re sat side by side and their knees are touching. Jack’s hair is out this time, and the waves are falling across his forehead and she just loves the way it looks. He notices the two rings she’s wearing as one quickly catches a light in the restaurant. They continue on from the last time they talked but this time, swimming the surface of deeper conversations.
She talks about her constant doubts about her job and how she sometimes just wants to pick up and movs somewhere else and start new. He talks about how he knows he’s good at hockey and knows this is the only path for him, but how he recognizes that outsiders look and sometimes see a sell-out or someone who doesn’t work hard. But he’s learned to just put his head down and play and to do it well. That’s something she can also relate to.
She talks about how her relationship with her older brother is one that she’s found to be very grateful for, especially because they’re so far apart in age. A lot of who she is is based on his personality. He talks about being the middle child and being close in age to his brothers, and how competition was always just built into every activity they did. He’s realized, especially as he’s gotten older, how much he appreciates his brothers and having all three of them being in the same league, with Luke on the same team, and going through similar experiences but also completely different trajectories.
(Somewhere, they both take a few sake shots and Maia’s not quite drunk, but buzzing, her laughter more free and her face redder).
Even semi-intoxicated, she decides not to ask the questions she really wants to yet that focus around them and what they are, unclear of where they stand. They’re sitting so close to each other and she relishes in it, wanting more. When she runs a hand through her hair to push it back, she notices his eyes flickering at that action, which means…nothing. She has to break away eye contact sometimes because he’s just staring at her so intensely.
No wonder he has girls wanting him left and right, she thinks. She’s kind of no better.
Towards the end of the night (he paid again and she only let him after he said he would let her pay next time. Next time), they plan out vaguely when they’ll see each other next. He’s away for the next week or so, and she just shrugs. She gets it. It would be naive of her to think she can change it. “I’ll let you know the second I land,” he says, and she just nods. She then jokes that maybe their next date could be skating, and he rolls his eyes, though he takes it into consideration. When he asks if she’s serious, she snorts, “I mean, sure. But you’re not gonna have to teach me how, if that’s what you’re going for.” He laughs. Loudly.
When they part ways, he hugs her tightly and for a long time. She breathes him in subtly, her eyes fluttering shut when she feels him press a lingering kiss on her forehead.
Maybe that’s when she should’ve asked. Because that act was way too intimate to feel friendly. But she didn’t, and she watched him walk away, chuckling as he turned around to shoot her a parting wink.
She went to sleep that night, somehow, with so many thoughts circling around her mind)
*****
Maia has an idea of when he’s landing, so she’s not surprised when she gets a call on a Thursday night.
He seems a bit out of breath, and she asks him if everything’s okay. Everything’s fine, he says. He just landed back in Newark and is heading home. He cuts to the chase, and asks if she’s around the next night. She blinks, because she knows he has a game. He clarifies. Is she around after the game? (“Or for the game,” he adds quickly. “If you want to come, I can get you tickets.”) While she’s flattered, she knows that’s crossing a line at this point and she politely turns down his offer. But yeah, she says. I’m around after. What’s up? He asks if he can take her out on a date. And she knows her answer (it’s obviously yes) but she says only if she’s allowed to go to him in Jersey. He protests immediately, but she shuts him up (“Both of our dates have been way closer to where I am. It’s only fair, Maia.”)
It’s gonna be a late night date, since the game (assuming no overtime) won’t end until at least 10:00. He’s not sure what he has in store, but she’s okay with not knowing. The only thing he assures her of is that he’ll drive her back into the city afterwards. Traffic should be light, so she doesn’t fight him.
(That should’ve been another hint that this was something worth pursuing. She has a hard time letting go of control of plans, especially with people she hasn’t known for awhile.
She trusts him already)
When he hangs up, she thinks for a second. He had told her during their last date that he would let her know the second he landed.
And he did.
Huh.
*****
The next night, she’s nervous.
Dinner’s already been eaten. She caught the first period of his game, but had to leave to catch her trains to meet him. With encouraging words from Carrie paired with some hype up music, she’s on her way.
When she steps out of the station on this abnormally warm December night, she immediately sees him leaning against his car. His hair is damp from the shower he probably just took, and he’s sporting a peacoat over a sweater and blue jeans.
He perks up when he sees her and she practically skips over to him. She smiles and pulls him into a hug, and she feels him press a light kiss in her hair.
“Hey.” She says softly.
“Hi,” he mutters in her hair, pulling away to lean down and place a kiss on her cheek. “It’s good to see you.” He opens the door for her as she slides in, and she’s thankful that she followed her instincts and dressed comfortably in her beloved Minnesota sweatshirt, stifling a yawn as she thanked him. She puts on her seatbelt and leans back, watching him climb in.
He turns to her, “Wanna aux?”
“Are you sure?” She asks, already fiddling around to connect her Apple carplay.
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” He chuckles, looking behind him to pull onto the road.
She shrugs. “What kind of music do you want?”
“Whatever you want.”
She snorts. “You don’t mean that.” She scrolls through her playlists and debates on which one to do. “I saw that you guys lost. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he replies automatically and she catches his eye and gives him a look of doubt. He corrects himself. “Okay, it’s frustrating, but none of that right now. I wanna hear about you. How’s your week been? Did that thing with your boss get resolved?”
She blinks. Right. She had mentioned that briefly when he called her earlier in the week. “Kinda.”
“Kinda?”
“Yeah,” she sighs. “I don’t know. You gotta learn which battles to fight, you know? This one is one I don’t have to win.”
He nods with a soft hum, stopping at a red light. “Do you like milkshakes?”
She chuckles a bit at the change of topic. “I don’t mind them.”
“Wanna get some right now?”
“Would it matter if I said no?”
“No,” he admits. “Because I want one.”
“That can’t be on the diet plan you athletes have going on.”
“Oh, it definitely isn’t. Worth it though.”
“Do they have oreo or cookies and cream?”
“Yes.”
“Then yes.” He grins, and she takes a couple seconds just to watch it. “Thanks for coming to get me.”
“Thanks for coming out to Jersey at 10 pm.”
She chuckles. His heart drops to his stomach. “I had nothing else to do on a Friday night.”
He snorts. “Yeah, okay. I don’t believe that.”
“Really?”
He shrugs.
She leans back into her seat. “I don’t have the energy to hang out with people every night. Respect to the people who do. That’s just never been me. I can sit for hours and not talk to anyone.”
“You’re an introvert, then.”
“Is that surprising?”
He takes a second to think about it. “Yes, one, because you always talk about your friends so I know you have a lot. And two, because we literally talked for four hours on our first date.”
She shrugs, looking straight ahead of her to get the courage to respond. “There’s very few people in my life who I can talk with for hours.”
“I’ll consider myself lucky, then.”
She looks back over to him, watching as he shoots her a quick smile before he focuses back on the road. “How’s your week been?”
“The usual. Practices and games and travelling in the west coast, so I’m a little jetlagged, which isn’t great.”
“I didn’t realize that you guys play games like, every other day. Which is dumb, because like, it makes sense, but that just sounds exhausting. What am I saying though? It’s literally your job.”
He laughs softly and she tries to ignore the warmth spreading across her skin. “It can be tiring, for sure. But yeah, I love it, you know? Wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.”
“I know exactly what you mean.” Just then, they pull into this small, unassuming diner and roll right through the drive-thru. He orders a chocolate milkshake and she gets an oreo one, and before he can think about it, she forces her credit card in his hand. He laughs and relents, and they pull out and are back on the road quickly. She sips on her milkshake and smiles to herself, not even asking where he’s driving them to next.
(She thinks they could be anywhere and she’d still want to keep talking to him forever. He thinks that practically every worry in his life could fade away if he could look at her smile for the rest of his life)
He rolls up to one of his favorite views in Jersey of midtown Manhattan, finding an alcove and backing his car into it. Hamilton Park. They both get out and all she can do is stand there and admire the stunning view, milkshake in hand. She’s literally breathless. The last time she remembers feeling like this is when she saw the Pantheon for the first time nearing midnight with her brother when they were in Rome in 2022. She doesn’t notice him unlocking the trunk and setting up the backseat with blankets and pillows until he softly calls her name.
(When her eyes met his, the glow of Manhattan in her eyes, he swears to this day that his heart skipped a beat. He was hers already then)
They settle into the makeshift couch, not quite touching but really freaking close.
“It’s beautiful,” she says softly, just looking at the view.
He hums, his eyes flickering between the view he knows too well and the girl who makes him feel better about who he is simply for just being around. It sure is.
She lets herself admire the view silently for a minute or so more, before she can’t take it anymore. “Jack?” She asks, still looking out.
“Yeah?”
“What are we doing?”
“What do you mean?”
Wrong answer, if the unimpressed expression on her face is any indication. She nudges her knee with his. “Come on. You know exactly what I mean. What are we doing? What are we?”
He shrugs, trying to ignore the frogs in his stomach. He should’ve known she was gonna bring it up first. She’s too smart not to. “I-I like you. Wouldn’t have chased after you if I didn’t. You-you’re amazing, you know that? I don’t think you realize how much you can just stay on someone’s mind. I know this is only our third date, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life and I like who I am when I’m around you.”
She swallows, pausing to sip her milkshake and wiggling into the blankets. He thinks she’s adorable. “I haven’t liked someone in so long. I thought I forgot what it felt like. But then you asked me out and I see a text from you or hear you through my phone or see you on TV, and I’m like oh. I think I remember what it feels like now. It feels like this.”
He has to take a second because oh, maybe her dreams of becoming an author aren’t just words. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She swallows again. “But I, I can’t do casual. I never have. I really, really wish I could
sometimes. So if that’s what you want, I can’t do it.”
“What makes you think I want casual?”
She snorts, “Because you’re a hot and talented hockey player? You can’t blame me for making the assumption.”
“You think I’m hot?”
Maia smacks him in the stomach. Jack laughs. She takes a breath. It’s now or never. “I just, I know you have girls in your DMs and your comments and everywhere else that are prettier and maybe could give you more of what you’re looking for or something that’s not…me.”
“You’re beautiful.”
She lets out a small noise and smiles slightly. “Thanks. But, I-I know that you have so many options. I won’t be hurt if I’m not the one you choose.”
He taps her knee so she’s paying attention and listening to his next words. “I-I’ve done casual before. I don’t think I can do that with you.”
“You can’t? Why not?”
“Well, A, because you don’t want to, which leads to B, I don’t want to. Not with you.” It’s his turn to swallow now as he looks at the skyline. “I really, really like you, Maia.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“All in?”
“All in.”
“You completely sure?” She interlaces her hand in with his and raises his knuckles up to her lips. He’s utterly floored. But he’s nervous. And she can sense it.
“Yes. I just…it’s, I’m not trying to backtrack. I mean, you’ve already seen some of it. Like, during the season, it’s intense. Game every two or three days, practice pretty much everyday, stretches of roadies and being away. I feel like, not that I doubt you or us or anything, but that’s not, I won’t be around as much as I should be. How is that fair to you?”
“Yeah, I mean, yeah. I figured that from the first day. I get it. Well, as much as I can get it. I’m sure it’s gonna be tough. I know it will be.” She squeezes his hand, leaning on his shoulder. “If you’re willing to try, then so am I.”
“You’re too good for me.”
She scoffs, grinning as he places a kiss on her temple. She places her milkshake by her side, summoning up some courage. She adjusts herself so that she’s fully facing him, and he just watches her intensely. With her white BU crewneck, a blanket around her shoulders, hair falling just past her shoulders, and the soft smile on her face, his mind goes quiet. Peaceful.
She kisses him first. Innocently and softly, before pulling back to gauge his reaction.
He responds quickly, cupping her cheek and pressing his lips against hers again. They’re both smiling into the kiss and everything feels calm. He wraps a hand around her waist as she maneuvers her hands around his neck, playing with his hair. She’s so lost in him that she doesn’t really realize that she moves herself so that she hovers over his lap, knees on either side of his hips. He has his hands placed on her lower back.
He lets out a low groan, “Baby.”
Her brain short circuits, both at the nickname (she’s always flinched at it before, but she loves the way he says it) and the timbre of his voice, but she has enough sense to pull away. They’re both breathing heavily. “Sorry,” she breathes out, leaning her forehead on his shoulder. She closes her eyes. She needs a second.
“Don’t be,” he says, bringing her face back up to his and brushing his thumbs on her cheek. “God, you’re so beautiful. I’ve been wanting to do that since the minute I saw you.”
She chuckles, sliding off of him and settling into his side, staring out at the skyline again. “You’ve had plenty of chances.”
“I kinda knew if I kissed you before knowing what we were, it would be more heartbreaking if you rejected me.”
“If I rejected you?”
“Yes.”
“In what world would I have rejected you?”
“I don’t know. But I’m glad it’s not this world.”
She keeps herself from rolling her eyes, and just leans up to kiss him on the cheek. Because, you know, she can do that now.
(That night, staring out at the stunning skyline of a city she has grown to love, with the warmth of the blankets over her legs and over her shoulder, a boy she was very quickly growing to care for deeply pressed by her side, telling her he feels the same way, she felt lifted. Free.
Unstoppable)
(When he drops her home, it’s 1:18 a.m. and she doesn’t want to get out of the car. With the way his hand has been attached to her thigh, it seems like he doesn’t want her to get out either. But he has an 11 am practice tomorrow and he just had a game. He’s exhausted.
He kisses her once, twice, a third time before letting her go. As soon as she steps through the lobby of her apartment building and out of view, his grin practically splits his face. He smiles all the way home)
#k writes#hockey fic#hockey fanfic#hockey fiction#hockey rpf#jack hughes#devils#new jersey devils#jack hughes x oc#jack hughes x ofc#jack hughes fic#jack hughes fiction#jack hughes blurb#jack hughes writing#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes fanfiction#nhl imagine#nhl#nhl fanfic#nhl fanfiction
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Well... since bed breaking was briefly mentioned in the last request 😏
How would the monkey kings react to the bed breaking from smexy times with their s/o? Whether its the bed from an inn or their own bed. 🤭
Little addon with how it often it happens
I want to have you in my bed🛏🤭
(Lmk Wukong) You guys were going while one Saturday night, you both just got back from a romantic date and wanted to finish the night with a bang. Ohhhhhhhhh you finish it with a bang indeed because you both went so hard and so fast, that your brains weren't only scrambled but you broke your beds in half scaring the baby monkies who heard it. The next morning you both sat on the ground a bit mortified from how wild things got, however you both wouldn't mind doing it again You just need to make sure you had a back up bed to sleep on.
(HIB Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhh he's embarrassed and shocked, at what just happened, he knew he can get a bit crazy but this never happened before. Wukong and you haven't done anything in a long time together due to some random circumstances, or being caught up in childcare. Now you both had to figure out how to replace the bed before your kids or god forbid pigsy wakes up and sees, or your both will be doomed.
(MKR Wukong) Oh man do you know how many inns you both would get banned from, because of your shared Staminas. Sometimes Wukong would get aroused when you both would still have excess adrenaline from the battlefield, and with that you both would wrestle and rock the bed. Of course your gonna break it in half in a fit of wild passion, the next morning you both were scolded by your master for what happened at the inn. Unfortunately for him you both have no regrets and would probably do it in some other in too.
(NR Wukong) I can see him saying if the bed isn't broken then I'm not doing it right. However he tends to end up taking you to hotels and motels because you guys broke your bed at home, in a night of passion. He knows damn well your shared bed at home would not survive your mating sessions. Which is why he'll do you in a hotel bed he would book them on the weekends so nobody gets suspicious 🤭
(Netflix Wukong) WoW I see getting started by the bed breaking,especially when he was so focused on your shared pleasure You didn't hear any cracking from the bed. Then the next thing you both knew you and your bed were on the floor, now knocking his skinny ass he would brag about this to you until your ears fall off. Wukong would be Remembering this quite fondly for years to come, especially when he made his wife pass out in bed.
(BMW Wukong) Yooooo his ego would punch a Huge hole in the roof To the point where there's Barely any roof left. Wukong loves to go absolutely wild when it comes to you his queen, mating sessions usually last to the Crack of dawn. With that knowledge, it's no wonder your guys bed broken half You both can no longer Control yourselves or learn how to stop for a break. Though that's clearly a problem for later because you're both too addicted to each other to care at the moment.
(Destined one) THIS POOR MONKEY NOY WOULD DIE OF EMBARRASSMENT IF ANYONE FOUND OUT HE BROKE HIS BED SCREWING YOU TO INFINITY!!!!! the Destined one has a reputation of being calm, collected quiet, Disciplined, focus, strict and combat ready. If anyone finds out he lost control to the point where The result is broken furniture, it's over for him that's why the next morning he's quick to check out of the inns you stay in and actively runaway🏃♂️.
(Lotmk Wukong) Poor thing is gonna think he's gonna be in big trouble, you both don't do mate very often. Though when you do...boy it's quite a doozy that your gonna need some time to recover from, however this time you did a big uh oh. Wukong and you wrestle to hard that that a part of the bed of the inn you checked in broke, and you both looked at each other in fear. Luckily it was late at night and nobody heard it...the next morning you both made sure to be the first to wake up and leave with the group before anyone found out🤐.
FEEL FREE TO REBLOG🛏
#monkey king reborn#monkey king netflix#monkey king x reader#nezha reborn#monkey king hero is back#lmk monkey king#x female y/n#black myth wukong#the destined one x reader#Lotmk 1999#cuddling and touching#cuddling & snuggling#bed sharing
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I'm going to start throwing a tantrum if the popular leftist YouTubers keep saying Trans Women when talking about the effects of Trump's policies that very much can and do harm and kill trans men. Like I don't get it? What is the point of specifying trans Women every time they talk about broader trans issues? Do they even realize they're doing this?
this is a really good ask, thanks for taking the time to say it! that makes me really glad i don't watch anything even remotely political or related to queer topics on youtube. i'm not sure how other people can do it, it's entirely too stressful and it's way more common than not that people just end up getting sucked up into petty drama instead of talking about the queer experience or helping other queer people.
i have to be honest to god about this behavior: it's virtue signalling mixed with genuine trans(andro)phobia. the vast majority of it is straight up just virtue signalling and it's old as fuck. it is super obvious and i have no idea how people think they're doing anything good by behaving this way. this is a way for people to make Themselves feel better because they're patting themselves on the back for being sooooooooo progressive and sooooooo good to trans women. people want to look like a great ally to transfems without actually being one.
it's fucking annoying as hell and it's being done on purpose to show that that person doesn't give a singular shit about trans men or anyone else and is literally just sucking up to trans women in the hopes of gaining brownie points and looking more progressive. like it's glaringly apparent that people think that trans woman is the only way to be trans, can we call this bullshit for what it is? "trans person" does NOT mean "trans woman". if you want to specifically talk about trans women, just say that. don't do this weird thing where you're like "oh this is gonna affect trans people!" and then immediately say it as trans women.
trans women are not the only trans people. fucking stop this behavior. you are doing this on purpose. you are leaving out trans men on purpose for the sake of trying to look progressive and like you care about trans rights. all you're doing is proving that you are transphobic af and are only doing this to either suck up to trans women, or for trans women to intentionally erase trans men and completely leave them out of the conversation. like sometimes it IS trans women doing this and we HAVE to call it out. trans women can and do participate in transmasc erasure. we have to pretending that trans women can't hurt trans men, transmascs, nonbinary people, genderqueer people and all other kinds of trans people.
i 100% agree with you. if we're talking about trans issues in general why do people ONLY say trans women and that's it? i don't know how to say it any other way than transphobic legislature hurts every single trans person. every single one. masc, femme, both, something else altogether. all of us are affected. what about genderfluid people? what about bigender people? what about transfems who aren't women? what about agender people? what about transneutral people?
trans does not mean "Trans women and trans women only". stop this behavior. we GET it. you wanna LOOK like you care about trans women. we GET that you want to suck up to us for Progressive Brownie Points. like people really think we can't see this shit. people really think that we cannot tell that people are pandering to us just so they can pat themselves on the back for looking like they care about trans rights. we can fucking see that you're doing this to try to get the transfems in your life to think highly of you while you're not actually helping them at all.
i need people to understand that transfems and trans women are aware of how fucking phony this shit sounds, even when it's coming from other transfems and trans women. like we are nowhere near as dumb as y'all think we are. i honestly find it really fucking nasty that people think that trans women are too dumb to tell when people are just sucking up to us to try to make themselves look better. if you ask me, this behavior is just as transmisogynistic as it is transandrophobic, exorsexist and just transphobic in general.
you can't leave out every other single trans person for the sake of trying to gain rights for trans women. it's all of us, or none of us. leaving other trans people out of the discussion will not make trans womens' lives better or easier. we don't want this. stop it.
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IT'S OKAY, WE'RE OKAY, WE ARE DEFINITELY NOT OKAY JUJU WATKINS x READER
Summary: After the losing game against Iowa, you and juju get into a nasty argument that leads to your teammates separating the both of you.
Warning: Angst Angst Angst, swearing, throwing shit around, bad juju and reader
Authors note: The match was something, so that is why we get angst for times like this, anyways happy reading feedback and requests are always appreciated 💕.
Tension within the team was high no one said a word as everyone entered inside the bus. All you wanted to do was sit down next to your girl and comfort each other, but that was a no brainer as she passed by and ignored you.
Her ignoring you kinda hurt but you weren't gonna push past it. You tried sending her texts only for her to swipe them each time, you saw her groan turning off her phone.
A pit was forming down your stomach but you ignored the feeling like a fool.
You knew the type of player juju was when things don't go the way they were supposed to. Right now with the loss she was definitely beating herself up over it. no one likes to lose, especially to a team that wears the ugliest shade of yellow.
Arriving at the hotel felt like you were about to step into a battle zone. Once again you tried getting juju's attention by grabbing her hands, but all she did was yank her hands away from yours like you were some insects coming to disturb her.
You tried one last time by tapping her shoulder until she finally snapped at you, raising her voice, something that she's never does always trying her best to be calm with you.
"Bro what the fuck do you want can you not get the hint that maybe I do not want to deal with your shit tonight". You heard her say which was shocking. Because she never had an outburst likes this not even infront of your teammates or others, so her doing this just made you feel like an attention seeker which made you embarrassed.
"First off, watch how you're talking to me because I do not curse at you whatsoever and all I was trying to do was comfort my teammate who thinks the whole world is on her shoulders when the team has a few bad games but it fuck me right?." You said to her.
a few of your teammates who hadn't head upstairs came to where you and juju trying to calm things down, but that only made things escalate.
"Wow this coming from the player that left the 3 pointer line all wide fucking open and probably cost us the game". The moments those words came out of juju mouth she insanely regretted them but it was to late because you already heard them.
"I'm so sorry that not everyone can be there own fucking Judea watkins that's oh so prefect". You threw back at her tears clearly streaming down your face
It was too late for juju to say anything as kiki and Ray came separating the both of you.
The looks from your coaches were equally heartbreaking because no one wants to witness their best players tearing each other to threads.
A wave of guilt filled juju as everything she said to you hit her like a brick stone she was obviously in her head and wasn't thinking at all but the damage was already done. She made you cry and hurt you're feelings what type of girlfriend and teammate was she?. Was all she wondered now.
You we're already walking off with kiki.
She tried saying something but was cut off by one of the coaches who told her not to.
"It not worth it juju just head back upstairs, we'll be having a serious talking about both of your behaviors ray please help juju up to her room". she heard coach say, heading back the other way with ray, head facing down has she pulled her hoodie strings ashamed of how she acted.
What she didn't see was the way you turned around, hoping for her to say something at all it could've been anything but she didn't.
Only leaving both of you to sleep with heavy hearts having a thin wall separating you once more, you guys were definitely not okay and no one was okay.
#juju watkins#juju watkins x reader#juju watkins imagine#wbb#usc women’s basketball#usc wbb x reader#wbb x reader#wbb fic#wcbb x reader#wcbb fanfics#wbb imagine#ncaa wbb#usc trojans#usc wbb#wbb oneshot#wbb fanfiction#wbb fluff#juju watkins fanfics
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Catch
Easy prey for me, I'll admit. I enjoy a challenge more often than not, but I'm not so egotistical as to say I'll never eat low hanging fruit.
Lily struck me right away. Tattoos from neck to toe and dripping in Pokemon memorabilia. She was a sight. Not usually my type, to be sure. But the tits under that Squirtle. They were not to be ignored.
I introduced myself as the owner of the shop she'd wandered into. It wasn't legally true, but thanks to a little lady who was currently helplessly finger fucking herself in the back office, it would be by this time tomorrow.
She nodded politely to me and continued browsing. I followed behind a few paces. I didn't want to scare her off, thought I think that even the brief encounter would have been enough for her to stay nearby. I have a… way with people. They're drawn to me and naturally inclined to do as I ask. With a bit of concentration and the right prompting, I can get people to do almost anything.
"Which is your favorite?" I asked gesturing to her shirt as I pretended to cross her path again.
She looked down at her chest, breasts stretching the fabric wonderfully, and for a moment I thought she might have answered "left" or "right."
"Smeargol," she answered simply, and upon seeing my curious expression happily elaborated. "He's a painter."
"Ah so it's art-related. Makes sense with the tattoos. Mine is probably Hypno."
"Interesting choice," she said, taking a drink.
"I've always been obsessed with the mind. It's an incredible thing. It creates whole worlds for us to live in." I could feel her getting more and more comfortable with me. In a short time, she now considered us close friends.
"Yeah that's true. I like how something like a dumb cartoon can explore topics without getting boring."
"Pokemon has a lot of strange themes. One that always struck me was the relationship between trainer and pokemon. Are they friends? Pets? Slaves?"
She took a long pull from her drink as she thought about that.
"l mean you wouldn't make a pet fight someone else's pet. They seem a lot like slaves to me. Slaves that do whatever their owner wants."
Her lack of a bra was beginning to show more obviously as we spoke and she fell more and more into my field of influence.
"But," she stammered, "they can disobey if they aren't friends with their owners."
"Or if their owners are weak," I agreed. "But they often don't get a say on who their owner is. He just swoops in one day and uses his balls to trap them."
At the word balls, she audibly sighed, though I don't think she even noticed she'd done it.
"Are we friends?" I asked.
"Sure," she agreed a little too quickly.
"And I'm strong. I've steered this whole conversation. Leading you along on each point."
She nodded.
"And I've swooped in out of the blue and am trying to claim you. Are you going to let me? Or…,"
I pointed at her shirt again, "are you just a little wild pokemon who doesn't have a choice?"
"No choice," she whispered as she stared into my eyes.
"Now why don't you come into the back office and I can show you the thing that all captured pokemon need. And you can see the other specimen I've caught today. I think you're going to get along nicely."
She simply nodded, eyes lowering to look at the bulge in my jeans. Too easy.
Thanks for reading! If you are a fan of my work, consider buying me a coffee. Any contribution is insanely appreciated. 💖
#tidal story#male dom#fem sub#altered reality#brainwashing#hypnok1nk#hypnosis#hypnotic#mind conditioning#hypno fantasy#hypnosub#mindfuck#mind corruption#mind fuck#mind control
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Poolverine NSFW [mentions & talking about sex acts]
Logan isn't exactly 'secretive' about his sex life. He just thinks everyone is a little too blasé about revealing details about their private life. Call him old-fashioned, but he is perfectly happy to keep his experiences between him and his lovers.
Of course, Wade has to poke the bear, or rather, the Wolverine. He's desperate to know what over 200 years of trudging through the world as a hunka-hunka burning love produces in the bumping uglies department. What kind of kinky shenanigans could a mutant Edward Scissorhands get up to? And that healing factor? That meant all-nighters to him.
"Peanut, have you ever heard of 'pegging?'" Wade leans over the couch, encroaching Logan's personal space in a way that would be concerning if Althea hadn't made a rule about drawing blood in the tiny apartment.
Logan nods, not looking up from his book. "Yeah."
Wade fist pumps. "Someone in some universe owes someone five bucks for that one. Hell yeah, feminist king. Have you ever tried it?"
"Why do you care?" He licks his finger before turning to the next page.
"I'm curious like a cat, Wolvie-bear. Except satisfaction has nothing to do with me coming back. Who was the lucky girl?"
"I'm going to stop talking now. I suggest you do too." Logan remarks with a flash of his middle claw.
Several days pass before Wade brings up something like that again. Waltzing into Logan's room, an interdimensional add-on that was part of the perks from the TVA.
"So, Babygirl, do you pitch or catch?" Wade mimes the baseball gestures. "Are you more of a gun or a holster? Gifted or receiver? One or a zer-"
"Depends on the person."
"Ooooh~, look at you using gender-neutral language. What makes you decide?"
Logan closes his laptop with a sigh. "Bub, listen, I really don't talk about this stuff with people I'm not sleeping with. It's nothing personal, I just really prefer not to get a reputation."
"So if I blow you, I can ask about the past of the X Mansion pass around party bottom? Deal." Wade starts in on Logan dramatically.
"I'm not that easy, Bub. We may have had some moments in the car, but I'm not a cheap date. You haven't even told me about your past."
"I've joked about Scout Master Kevin many times!" Wade flops onto the bed, jostling Logan a bit.
"That shit doesn't count, and you know it. You haven't mentioned anything to me that wasn't horribly traumatic. I'm starting to think you don't even like sex." He teases lightly.
Wade shouts. "How dare you! Vanessa and I had a great sex life." He drives his pointer finger into Logan's chest.
Logan bats it away, rolling his eyes. "I never hear about it."
"Well, that's..."
He looks at Wade, meeting his eyes. "Bub, I'm perfectly happy to talk about this kind of thing, but I need you to start taking it seriously. I'm not entirely sure you have taken anything seriously, but I'd like to know what you're into in a way that isn't you joking about mortal wounds giving you a stiffy."
"That one is only half a joke." Wade mumbles, smiling nervously at him.
"After the Honda, I know, Bub."
They begin to have more serious conversations over the next few weeks. Wade opens up about some of the things he's done, with Vanessa, past girls, and even a few guys. It takes a while of Wade being vulnerable, for real this time, but eventually, he starts to get some information out of the Wolverine.
Wade sidles up to Logan on the couch. "Okay, so, who introduced you to pegging? I have to know? I told you about Vanessa wanting to try it out." He waits with baited breath, hoping he's done enough to earn Logan's trust on this.
Logan raises an eyebrow. "Clarification, are we talking strictly about a cis woman using a prosthetic, or are we including trans women using their own?"
"Great question, let's say the store-bought kind."
"I think I heard about it from a couple of bra-burning girls in the 70s? Tried it out with one of them, probably around 78'. It was pretty okay. I think it got a lot better around the early aughts."
"And Jean?"
"Oh, you wanted specifics? Not there yet, Bub." He pats Wade's leg before getting up to go to the kitchen. His hips swinging just a bit more to add a sassy emphasis.
"Logie-bear! Wolvie! Peanut! C'moooonn!! I've been a good boy!" He begs.
Wade begins to plan date nights. Logan said he wasn't a cheap date, so Wade's going to make sure he feels respected. Wade even breaks out the second-cheapest wine from the nearest liquor store. The good stuff. He makes a full meal twice a week. He even brings home some yellow roses for Logan.
One night, over dressed-up ramen, Logan looks at Wade with something hungry in his eyes.
"Jean used to peg me while Scott watched. It was a whole thing."
"You're fucking kidding."
"Nah, I'd take it, then he'd take it from both of us. Plus, with Jean's powers..." He whistles. "We'd all feel what the others were feeling. It was some of the best sex I've ever had."
Wade barks out a laugh, shaking his head. "Are the rumors true? Were you really doing everyone on the team?"
Logan smirks. "Well, there were teenagers on the team, so obviously not everyone, but it was a pretty good possibility if they liked men."
Wade squeals like a teenage girl, lightly kicking his feet before leaning in closer. "And what about Ororo? That must've been crazy."
Logan shrugged. "She didn't like having her private life gossiped about, so we're gonna skip that one, Bub."
Wade nods. "Kurt? Hank? Anyone else?"
Logan thinks for a moment. "Kurt was a bit young for me. Hank was a little stuck up, but if we both had a few drinks in us, he was likely to want some action. They all..." He pauses, that deep frown that furrowed his fuzzy brow taking over his expression, something internally catching his attention. "Well, y'know."
Wade's shoulders sag as the weight of the loss that this Logan had suffered pulled at him. "Oh man, Logan, I'm so sorry."
Logan shakes his head, getting up to go to the kitchen and grabbing a beer, ending that conversation. He stays quiet, with that far away look in his eye. He goes to bed early. Wade worries late into the night. If he still had hair, he swears most of it would've been pulled out by morning.
The next day, Wade makes breakfast. Plenty of greasy sausage, just like they both liked it. Eggs were placed in such a way that the sausage smiled up at a groggy Wolverine. "Morning Sunshine, the Earth says, 'Hello!'"
Logan hums in acknowledgment.
"I was thinking about our conversation from last night." Wade worries the hem on his 'Suck the Chef' apron between his fingers. "I... I'm sorry if I brought up anything too painful. Really, I am. We don't have to talk about your sex life anymore if you don't want to."
"That wasn't your fault." Logan puts his silverware down, wiping his mouth before looking up at Wade. "I wanted to tell you."
"You said you didn't usually talk about your sex life to people you weren't bumpin-"
"If you call it 'bumping uglies' one more time, I'm going to break Althea's 'no blood' rule, I swear to God." He flashes his slowly protruding claws at Wade.
"Noted. My point is, we're not doing anything physical, though. You said you only talked about that with people you were physical with."
Logan shrugs. "I was planning on being physical with you. I just got cold feet when I realized that would've been the first time with someone I cared about since the X-Men."
Wade slides into the chair next to Logan. "Peanut... yeah, that totally makes sense. Besides some really poor choices, you would've been my first since Vanessa."
Logan sighs. "A breakup ain't the same as dyin, Bub."
"No, not at all. I'm just saying that that was still a raw spot for me. You waited until I was ready to talk about it, and you were patient. Even though you've got the most rockin' bod I've ever seen, I'm not trying to jump your bones if you're not into it too, Wolvie. We could just be roommates forever, and that's fine." He puts his hand on Logan's shoulder.
Logan huffs out a laugh. "I'm certainly not saying never. I've got needs, Mouth."
Wade pulls his apron off his lap a bit to hide his rapidly growing erection. He squeaks out a "That's fine too," before fist pumping once again. "Also, calling me 'Mouth?' You're gonna have to do that again once sexy things have started."
Logan laughs. "It's a date."
#deadpool 3#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool#poolverine#deadclaws#wolverine#logan howlett#wade wilson#wade x logan
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Think I Like You
Title: Think I Like You
Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Half Mink!Reader
Word Count: 4.1k
Master List
Summary: You try to figure out why Zoro won’t take you seriously even if the answer isn’t what you expect.
A/N: I’m not dead! I’m just all over the place with a lot of stuff. I sleep a lot which I can’t tell if it’s a sleep issue or a depression issue, but I’m always tired. I still work full time but also do school part time now. Plus I’ve still got a boyfriend! But he wanted to end this weekend on 1062 which means Zoro brainrot for me.
You stretch and roll over, burying your face into your pillow. Ever since you changed where you nap, you've started sleeping so much better. Something about being more comfortable or something like that. The actual reason doesn't really matter. You're just happy you're sleeping better.
"You owe me for this."
"I don't owe you shit. Not my fault you nap in my spot." You reach up and pat his cheek. "What do I need to do for you to be quiet?"
"I already told you, you owe me."
You open your eyes just a little. "What could I possibly owe you? I don't like to drink, I don't keep money, not to mention I can't even tell if you're the type of man to be swayed by physical charms. What could I possibly offer you, Roronoa?"
"For starters, you can start referring to me by my name like everyone else does." He looks pissed. "You should fight me."
"You didn't take me seriously last time, Moss Head. Why would I bother trying again?"
He pulls on your ear. "I said like everyone else, not like how that idiot says my name."
You ignore him and bury your nose in his stomach. Dinner has been started, and if you don't ignore it you'll end up going to the kitchen early. It's less that Sanji minds seeing you, it's more of the fact that you struggle to suppress the urge to knock shit off the counter and dip your fingers in the sauces. Such is the life of someone like you.
You let yourself doze a little. You can still hear what's going on, but just like every common house cat, you ignore it. What you can't ignore is the gentle scratching behind your ears. As far as you remember, no one has done this since you were a kid. You don't hate the feeling, but you start to feel flustered over it. Ever since you left home, you've made sure affection comes at your own terms so you haven't had this in years.
There's no point in asking him to stop. You're clearly fond enough of him to nap on him, what's the big deal about getting ear scratches? Besides, he's the type to get embarrassed and loud if you point out you're awake. That's not something you feel like dealing with right now. You're too touch starved to complain.
Despite the comfortable conditions, you don't actually fall asleep. You spend the next forty-ish minutes pretending to sleep, waiting for dinner to be done. The time passes by relatively quickly, though you're sore afterwards. You couldn't bring yourself to even twitch, worried that he'd stop.
The dinner call goes off, and you pretend to wake up. You have no clue why you're acting, but it was too late to stop twenty minutes ago. Standing up, you stretch halfheartedly. At first, he doesn't say anything. It's only once he catches up to you that he starts asking questions.
"What's the deal with the noise you make?"
Raising an eyebrow, you look at him. "I don't snore, so I have no idea what you're talking about."
"I'm not stupid, I can tell you aren't snoring. The other noise, the one that's relaxing. I can usually feel it when you're laying directly on me."
"What do you mean? The other noise?" You pause to think it over before it clicks. "We aren't talking about that."
You know what he's referring to. It's not like it's something you can control, but it's still embarrassing. Of all people to be you around, it's been Zoro. No one on the crew has judged you for being what you are, it's just embarrassing to be a mix. Your mother's human, and your dad's a mink. You look decently human, just with a few quirks.
"What do you mean, we aren't talking about it? We're talking about it right now."
Your face starts to heat up. "I mean I don't want to tell you."
His eyes narrow in suspicion. "Why not? Is it supposed to be embarrassing or something?"
"If I say yes, will you drop it?"
"Yeah, sure."
His face instantly relaxes. If you could smack him, you would. The last time you tried, it hurt. So you put your hand on his shoulder and give him a push. The only thing it does is cause his other shoulder to hit the doorframe, but you use it to march past him.
You take your seat, leaning back against the armrest of the booth seat. Kicking your feet up on the space next to you, you watch the crew carefully. Everyone is smiling and in a good mood, so you don't have anything to worry about. You don't ever admit it, but you care about them even if it's difficult to show.
Zoro picks up your legs and lays them in his lap. Since it doesn't seem to bother him, you're tempted to just sit normally. You have no idea what's going on in that head of his, and you doubt he does either. However, you actually do enjoy touching him, so you'll stay like this for now.
There's more commotion as Sanji brings out the plates. The one you're most interested in is a large tuna fillet that gets set in the middle of the table. You can't stop staring at it, the tender flesh a beautiful golden color. It's hard to tell if it smells better than it looks or looks better than it smells. Sanji has never failed to impress you with his dishes, so you can't wait to sink your teeth in.
Before you can even start to load your plate, Sanji sets a small plate in front it you. It contains a disk of packed rice, some avocado slices, and chunks of fish. You're assuming it's more of the tuna. Whatever it is, it was made specifically for you.
You don't mind the special dishes. You'll try almost everything, and unlike Luffy, you'll eat it slow enough to give a review. Everything tastes good so you don't get the point, but it probably makes Sanji feel better to have honest reviews and not just someone who loves food fawning over his cooking. Though if you're not careful, you worry that he'll start having write an essay about it.
"And for you, a special tune tartare! If you like it, I'll make it again for everyone some time."
You nod. "Yeah, I'll let you know. I always do. Not that you've ever made a bad dish."
You can't stop the tip of your tail from flicking back and forth in mild annoyance. By the time you get halfway through the tartare, all of the fillet is gone. It's not like it's the biggest deal, you just wish you could've had some of that too. It's not fair that since you got a special tuna dish, that you don't get the other one.
"If you tell me what that noise was, I'll share," Zoro teases while pointing at you with a bite of tuna. "I bet you can't resist answering now."
"I'm a cat. I was making a normal noise that cats make. Consider it a compliment."
You lean forward and take the bite of tuna. It's flakey and melts on your tongue with a slightly sticky glaze that has hints of honey and garlic. You lick your lips savoring the balance of flavors. None of them are overwhelming, but it's hard to gauge in just one bite what you think about it.
"You can't just," Zoro stutters. "You can't just take the food off of my chopsticks. Get your own!"
You grab his wrist and lick the glaze off of the chopsticks. It feels like there's another flavor there that you can't quite tell what it is. It's some sort of herby flavor, that while you enjoy, you can't pin down.
"Here!" Zoro doesn't look at you as he shoves his plate towards you. "Just take it since I don't want your germs."
You want to tease him, but you'll leave him alone. It's better to leave it in front of other people since Robin's insinuations are becoming too much. For now you'll just eat the food. Later, you'll tease him.
—-
"You're still not taking me seriously, Roronoa. Why did you want to fight if you won't take me seriously?"
You lunge, hand reaching for his throat. He blocks it with his arm, causing your claws to dig into his skin. Using his arm as leverage, you pull yourself closer to him, swinging your sword at his side. His parry is effortless, and he looks bored. It's so aggravating that he won't take you seriously in a simple sparring match. Perhaps he'd take you more seriously if you actually tried to kill him.
You disengage before leaping over him. This time, you swing your sword at his neck as he turn around. It's once more blocked, and he smirks. You're just barely faster than him as he takes a halfhearted swing at your sword arm with his other arm. You catch the flat of the blade with your knuckles, steeling your arm against the shock wave of the blow.
Kicking your leg out in front of you, you aim for his knees, intending to bring him down. Despite the grip on his sword, he catches your ankle in his hand and pulls your leg to the side. You let your body pivot with the movement, twisting until your leg is behind you. You yank your foot forward as hard as you can, pulling him into your back.
He's quick to let your ankle go and grab your shoulder to steady himself. In a fluid motion, you swing your arm and grab your dagger. You flick it in your fingers and thrust towards his ribs. His hand trails down your arm to your wrist and pins it behind your back. He gives it a squeeze trying to get you to drop the dagger.
"Are you actually trying to kill him?" Nami tells from the side. "Are you stupid?"
You roll your eyes, sweeping your leg behind you and hooking Zoro's. Despite your efforts, you can't get him off balance, only causing him to take a step back. By now you're getting pissed off. You aren't a bad swordsman, it's just that this jerk is ridiculously smart in battle. This is probably the only time he'll use his brain all day.
You jerk your head back, hitting his jaw. The sound of the impact makes you regret it, knowing you'll feel like shit later. You manage to free yourself as he loosens his grip, and you elbow him as you twist back around. The only reason you're still going is because he won't take it seriously. It's like he finds it funny that he's able to fend you off so easily.
You rush towards him, tossing your weapons to the ground. Digging your claws into his shoulders, you use your momentum to knock him over. It only works because he's too busy rubbing his jaw to notice you in time. The two of you tumble to the deck, and you lean in as close as you can.
"Why won't you take me seriously? Is this just a game?"
Faster than you can blink, he's able to flip and pin you under him. He's even more smug than the last time you sparred, and you can't tell if you want to smack him or if you should kiss him. Not that you could smack him, he's got your hands above your head. While kissing him would let you win, you're not willing to fight that dirty in a friendly match.
"You're a brute, Zoro. You can't just manhandle the other crewmates just because you feel like it." Sanji pulls him off you. "If you were in the mood to fight I would've taken the offer."
You tune out their fight as Chopper checks your head and shoulder. You're a bit sore now, but you'll be fine in a few hours. Nothing keeps you down for long, even if it's usually just you going against the doctor's orders. The only thing actually bothering you is the fact that for a moment you thought he was going to answer your question. Though the fact you thought about kissing him is also an issue.
It's not difficult to figure out why you thought that way. Your parents made sure that you knew to find someone strong enough to protect you in case of something happening, even if you knew how to take care of yourself. That, and he's easy on the eyes. Even if he's an idiot half of the time, that doesn't matter. Your parents never said to find a smart man, just a strong one. Everything else was your choice.
Chopper hands you a damp towel, and you use to clean under your claws. Tiny spots of blood rest under them, probably from when you grabbed Zoro. If the pinprick wounds bothered him, he doesn't show it. He's too busy trying to shove Sanji off the boat. As long as you stay dry, it doesn't matter if they end up overboard. They can both swim.
After a few minutes, Nami separates them. You watch her glare at the men before you stalk off to take another nap. The sun is just starting to dip below the water, so finding a nice patch of sun to lick your figurative wounds isn't possible. You'll have to settle for sulking in some weird spot. Perhaps it's time to torment the fish in the tank once more.
Lounging on the sofa is probably the second best place to nap. The sound of the tank constantly humming while you watch the fish swim in tempting circles puts you at ease. You stretch out fully, let your arm and tail hang off the edge. The tip of your tails twitches slightly as you trace the movement of a particularly large bass. That should be tomorrow's lunch, perhaps in a stew. Even though it hasn't been long since you had food, your mouth starts to water at the idea of seafood stew.
"He really doesn't take you seriously, does he?"
You recognize Robin before she even speaks. Her stride is longer than Nami's with her steps being lighter than everyone else's. Not to mention she smells floral. It's never overpowering, but it allows you to pick her out from the crew.
"I guess not. Maybe I should've gone for his other eye."
She laughs, sitting down next to you. You aren't opposed to the company, especially if it's Robin. There something about her that puts you at ease.
"I don't think he'd like that," she muses. "What did he say to you?"
You scoff. "He didn't say anything. Bet he's too proud to take me seriously, like the jerk he is."
Robin smiles knowingly. "I'm sure he has his reasons. Maybe you should talk to him, just the two of you. I'm sure he'd tell you when no one else is around."
You frown. "What is he? A shy school boy? There's only one reason for not taking me seriously in a fight, and it would be him not thinking I'm even worth it. No point in having him tell me that in private, he can just keep it to himself."
She reaches out her hand, gently brushing your hair from your eyes. "Then what do you think about him?"
"I think he's an idiot who swapped out his brain for more muscles."
"Let me rephrase that. What feelings do you have about him?" There's a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "At least figure that out."
You shift so you can place your head in her lap. "I guess he's fine most of the time. I don't know why I enjoy his company, I just do. He's never really pushed me on anything, just sort of letting me do my own thing. Not to mention he's comfortable. As much as I hate admitting it, I suppose I like being around him."
She continues to brush your hair with her fingers silently. It's one of those tactics of hers. She'll stay quiet until you keep talking.
"What do you want me to say? He's nice enough to me, I can respect him as vice-captain, and he's decent looking. Everything else I think about him is my little secret." You're starting to get irritated talking about him. "Actually, I think I'll go talk to him now. I'll drag that answer out of him if I have to."
Robin looks at you with worry as you sit up. "Perhaps this is just a misunderstanding. What are you going to do if his answer isn't what you expect?"
"I'll deal with it when it happens," you say with a shrug. "It's not like it'll be anything surprising."
You take your time wandering around the ship. It's not hard to tell where he is, you'd rather put it off for a little bit longer. This weird feeling in your chest has been bothering you a lot lately. It can't be ignored anymore, but that doesn't mean you're one hundred percent ready to admit it.
Thankfully, he's exactly where you knew he was. You won't tell him that you enjoy finding him when he's working out. Something about him being shirtless is nice. Not that he usually bothers with wearing a shirt, so you can usually just stare whenever you want. Maybe he just likes the attention, and you'll gladly give it to him.
As soon as he leans back on the bench, you sit on his lap and stretch out over his torso. You rest your chin on your hand, pressing your palm on his chest. Watching as he sets the barbell back on the stand, you wait for him to start talking. It would be fine with you if he kept working out, but he seems opposed to the idea.
"Is bothering me amusing to you?"
You tilt your head slightly. "You're not cute when you're mad, so no. I was just hoping we could talk."
"You don't have to sit on me to talk."
"That's just personal preference. Besides, you tend to avoid talking about certain things and this keeps you from leaving." you say with a Cheshire grin. "I enjoy your touch, so this is ideal for me."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Zoro looks away from you. “You keep saying weird stuff.”
You don’t even blink as you respond, “I enjoy your touch. That’s what that means. I’ll even be nice and tell you the answer to your question from earlier. As a cat, I sometimes purr when I feel comfortable and content. Though some cats purr when scared.”
“So you’re scared of me? Is that what that means?”
“No. The only thing particularly scary about you is the fact that you’re an idiot.” Your ears twitch. “But since I answered your questions, you can answer mine. Why don’t you fight me seriously?”
He looks at you for just a moment, before looking at the ceiling. It’s like he’s embarrassed by the answer and is hoping you’ll forget about it. However, you’ve already made up your mind about what you want. You’re just waiting to see what he’ll do.
“I-,” Zoro cuts himself off to hide behind his hand. “I could hurt you really bad. That would be bad.”
Your tail swishes on the ground in mild irritation. “So you think I’m incapable of defending myself. That would explain the times you’ve interrupted my fights.”
“It’s not that!” He sits up, wrapping an arm around your waist to make sure you don’t tumble to the ground. “I don’t want you to get hurt if I’m around. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe.”
You’re nose to nose with him now. Even at this distance, he can’t seem to make eye contact. You can smell the liquor from dinner on his breath. It would be so easy to close the gap and kiss him, but for some reason the thought makes you nervous. You’re usually close to him, so why is this time different?
“Why should you keep me safe?” you mumble. “Do you save me out of obligation for the crew? If so, aren’t there better people on the crew to swoop in and save?”
“Does it matter why?” The way that his lips almost touch yours as he speaks makes you flustered.
You close your eyes. “Yes. I don’t want to get my hopes up if you think of me as nothing more than a burden of a crew-mate. Just be honest with me for once, Zoro.”
You don’t regret the soft begging tone as you say his name. You regret not saying his name in that almost pathetic tone sooner. The way that he kisses you makes your head spin. Even though he’s holding you close, you have to wrap your arms around his neck to make yourself feel more steady.
Zoro kisses you like he’s been wanting to for months. His hold on your waist makes it impossible to move, and the way that his hand grips yours hair makes you moan. You can barely breathe as his tongue explores your mouth, your grip on reality slipping as his fingers dig into thigh.
Even when he pulls away to let you breathe, you find yourself lost in the way he touches you. Sloppy kisses trail down your jaw and neck, coming to an end with his teeth on your collarbone. The way that his fingernails scrape gently against your scalp as he tugs lightly on your hair causes you to expose more of your chest to him as you lean into his palm.
You’ve never felt like this before. Hot, heavy, and breathless all while being lightheaded. You wouldn’t have it in you to resist him if he wanted more. In fact, the pathetic words of begging him to ravish you weigh heavy on your tongue. Yet he just continues to press kisses along every inch of skin exposed to him, ignoring how hard you’re panting as little moans escape you. He’s oblivious to everything but the act of kissing you.
Zoro only pauses after you tug his hair harshly. You didn’t mean to, you couldn’t help the reaction to him biting down on the side of your neck. You couldn’t even help the strangled groan that leaves you as he leaves a mark. For some reason, your body is shaking like you have some sort of withdrawal.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice rough and low.
You kiss him again, desperate to get as close as you can. Desperation courses through your body as you realize just how badly you’ve waited for this. You’ve spent months being almost attached to him so it makes sense, you just can’t figure out how you missed it. The long nights spent curled up in his lap, face buried in his neck has left you craving him so much.
You whine as he pulls away, unwilling to let this stop. It doesn’t even matter anymore how prideful you’ve been up until this. It’s so obvious how much you want him. Nothing could hide it anymore.
“Zoro.” You don’t even open your eyes. “Please.”
He gives your thigh a tight squeeze as you whimper. You can tell that what little restraint he has is fading with each whine of his name. Yet he’s able to pause and hold you close, breathing heavily into your ear. Eventually, he covers your mouth with his hand, stifling your words.
“Not like this,” Zoro says, his tone meaning he’s serious. “If you really want it, I want to make it special.”
“S-special?” You don’t know what that means. When was the last time someone told you that you were special? “How?”
“Just better than in the exercise room on the Sunny. You deserve to be treated better than that.”
You nod, and he lets his grip loosen. Despite the fact that nothing much happened, you feel drained. Maybe it’s because you really enjoy naps, but the exhaustion is hitting you hard. You don’t hide it, letting yourself go limp as Zoro picks you up.
“You can sleep in my bunk tonight. Not that it matters if I say you can as you usually show up anyway.”
You caress him jaw before giving his cheek a kiss. “Thank you, Zoro.”
The flush on his cheeks goes unnoticed by all beside you. Not that it matters, you don’t want to hide your feelings for him any longer. If he agrees to it, you’ll parade your feelings for the world to see.
#reader insert#one piece#one piece x reader#roronoa zoro#one piece zoro#zoro x reader#zoro#zoro x y/n#roronoa zoro x reader#op zoro
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── jungkook x you
scenario: you and Jungkook used to be best friend until new female staff came into his workplace, Jieun. He has introduced you to her. Jungkook starts getting busy with his work and often cancel the usual food hunting night with you because he needs to work overtime with Jieun. You know Jieun doesn't like you because she has come to your cafe a few times and told you to stop texting Jungkook during his work hour. when you told him about that, he didn't believe you. Starting that day your friendship is not like it used to be.
(v)
You and Jungkook finally met up at a quiet café you both used to frequent. The moment you walked in and saw him waiting at a table, he stood up, giving you that same warm smile you hadn’t seen in weeks.
"Y/N," he greeted, "It’s so good to see you."
"Hey...," you said casually as you slid into the seat across from him.
"How was the trip?" he asked.
"It was good," you said, keeping your tone light.
Jungkook smiled then glancing down at the table as if he had more to say but wasn’t sure how to say it.
You noticed his hesitation, but instead of addressing it, you decided to lighten the mood. Pulling out a neatly wrapped package from your bag, you placed it in front of him with a grin.
"Happy belated birthday," you said with a smile.
Jungkook stared at the box, wide-eyed. "Wait, you got me something?"
"Of course I did. Just because I wasn't there doesn’t mean I forgot," you teased lightly. "Go ahead, open it."
When he opened the box, his eyes widened in shock. Inside was the camera lens he had been talking about for months.
"Y/N… this is—this is the lens I wanted," he stammered, lifting it out of the box like it was made of gold. "How did you even—"
"Of course I remembered," you said proudly, crossing your arms with a playful smirk. "I’m the best of the best friends, after all."
Jungkook looked at you, still stunned. "I can’t believe you got this for me. I didn’t even think you were paying attention when I mentioned it."
"Please..." you said, rolling your eyes. You've been ranting about this lens forever. I figured it was about time you had it." You waved it off like it was no big deal.
Jungkook laughed, but his expression softened as he set the lens down and looked at you. "Y/N… I've got to say, I'm sorry. For everything. The group chat, the way I didn't believe you about Jieun...I screwed up. And the fact that you still went out of your way to do something like this for me…"
You held up a hand, cutting him off. "Jungkook, seriously...it's fine. I’m not mad about it, okay? I didn’t take it to heart."
"But I feel like I—"
"Jungkook," you said firmly but with a small smile, "I mean it. Let’s not dwell on the past. What’s done is done. We're good, okay?"
He looks at you as if trying to read your mind.
"Don't look at me like that," you glare at him. "Now, come on. Show me what that fancy lens can do!"
The rest of the afternoon felt easy, like a weight had been lifted. You laughed, shared stories, and teased him like old times. As you left the café that evening, you felt proud of yourself. You’d faced Jungkook, given him his gift, and managed to keep things light and casual.
— — —
Your friendship with Jungkook back to like the old times.
You received an invitation to a formal dance ball hosted by your old college friends. You need to bring a plus one.
You used to go with Jungkook, so he assumed you’d take him. He hates ballroom dance, but it's fun to dance with you.\
"So, what time are we going?” Jungkook asked casually, leaning against the counter at your café.
You blinked at him. “What?”
"The ball," he said with a grin. "Obviously, I'm stuck with you."
You laughed. "Uh… actually, I'm going with Joon."
Jungkook's smile faltered. "Joon? Our Joon?"
"Yep," you said, nodding with a chuckle. "He’s never been to one before, so I thought it'd be fun."
“Oh… cool,” Jungkook said, forcing a smirk. "Yeah, he must be excited."
But it didn't excite him. Since when did you take someone else to events like this?
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my dears please do not aspire to be me.. the horniness consumes you and your work! it's horrendously and deliciously distracting.. i have way overdue studying that has not been done 😭
anyhow, thank you miss covenofagatha for replying me so quickly <3 i saw your reply about being on the rowing team, and afterwards i headed to the gym where i got complimented by an acquaintance who said i "gained a lot of muscle". obviously i ran away because i can't talk to women but the agatha brainworm persisted! so i present a very self-indulgent baby brainworm:
sub! needy! agatha who's obsessed with your body, and she can't stop thinking about riding your abs. even if you're asleep.
(contains g!p daddy! reader, i might not have abs but let me pretend for a sec, bratty agatha, sweat mention, suggestive showers™, consensual somno, pillow riding and grinding which becomes ab riding and grinding, degradation)
the moment you come home from work, agatha's all over you. "i missed you," she mumbles, words muffled by your broad shoulder that she's buried herself into. you grunt out a half-exasperated "agatha", pushing her off you gently because you're sticky with sweat and you really, really need a shower.
(it's funny because when you're out together, most people assume agatha's the dom, the top. little do they know how she melts into putty in your hands, all whiny and desperate for your cock. and agatha loves feeding into it, because every time rio brings up agatha pegging you as a joke, you drag her into a nearby bathroom stall and fuck her against the wall, snarling about "what would they say if they knew you were my little brat, huh? that you're so fucking needy for daddy's dick?")
she clings back onto you, and while agatha harkness does not pout, the narrowing of her eyes at you certainly feels like she is. you sigh, shaking your head fondly as you meander your way to the bathroom. she does this song and dance with you every time you go off for work, your part-time job as a physical trainer at a nearby gym. each time, she mutters about how she can provide for both of you easily, but you brush her off because you don't want to be a burden. you already live in her house basically for free!
one upside of the job, is that whenever you come home in your tank top and sweatpants, agatha gets all flustered and needy. you asked her after the fifth time she jumped you why she gets so worked up the moment you get home; and she'd spluttered a sorry excuse, cheeks blushed a faint pink, and you just had to fuck her again then and there.
this time, though, you're still aching from your workout. "hit a new PR, baby," you say as you turn away to strip for the shower, "m'a little sore," hoping it'll deter her advances a little. when she doesn't respond, you turn back to realise she's raking her eyes up and down your body, licking her lips, pupils dilating greedily. You raise an eyebrow curiously, and she seems to snap out of whatever daydream she's in.
"I'm going to shower," you warn, implying that there will be no shower shenanigans, and she huffs, arms folded. "I'm joining you," she declares, and leaves no room for argument as she begins unbuttoning her shirt seductively -- normally, you'd pounce all over her, and your cock hardening cements its approval on the idea, but you really are a bit sleepy.
by the time the two of you get in, she's facing you directly as you lather soap all over your body, her fingers trailing up your abdomen. "sweetheart," you groan, and she mocks you with a saccharine call of "daddy". she moves, and you can feel the heat radiating from her cunt, her fingertips ghosting each ridge and dip and scar while she noses into your neck.
"you're such a brat," you grumble, and she coos, grinding her clit upwards against your raging boner with a "then punish me, daddy," and you keen loudly. fuck, she's good at this. "I'm tired, baby. really," you protest again, and she slumps in irritation.
"don't pout, darling," you console her, stifling a chuckle at the great agatha harkness getting grouchy because she isn't getting fucked. "I'm not," and her eyes glint with something mischievous. you'd be a little concerned if you managed to see it, but unfortunately for you, she steps out of the shower before you can decipher it.
after soft kisses and promises to fuck her silly tomorrow, agatha seems to have settled, accepting that she won't cum tonight. "my sweet girl can hold out a little longer, can't she?" is what tides her over until you fall asleep, breathing evening out as you relax next to her.
there, as you fidget with the sheets, your shirt riding up, she spots the central object of an embarrassing number of wet dreams; your abs. agatha never thought she'd be so enraptured by a part of your abdomen, always liking your tits or ass or cock, because duh. but as she grows accustomed to those, she finds that every time you flash her with your soft tummy with the hard edges of your core muscles, she gets soaked.
the idea that you're so fit, that your perfect body is owned by her the way hers is by you, drives her insane. she needs to run her hands over them, plant kisses along the ridges, lick up your happy trail, suck marks over your skin -- fuck, she's so wet already.
she glances over, and you look so utterly perfect, all ready for her. she battles herself for a little while, because contrary to popular belief, she *does* want to be your good girl. but you wouldn't even know, right? so she wouldn't be breaking the rules if you didn't know she was.
she tries with her pillow, imagining its your hard muscle and gentle skin, but it isn't enough. the fabric runs rough, and it's smooth as silk but it isn't *you*. agatha turns, looking at your snoozing form -- and makes a decision.
.. it's your fault for being so damn hot, honestly.
you wake up to a moving weight on your stomach, a sticky hot wetness coating your lower abdomen. blinking your eyes open, your mind hardly registers the moans above you, and your body flexes reflexively. agatha whines a loud "daddy, fuck-" and your eyes shoot open, hips bucking up, and your gaze settles on her.
agatha straddles your waist, one thigh on each side of you, ass sitting on your bulge as she bunches up the blanket in her grip; most importantly, though, is the furious rutting of her cunt against your abs, and it sounds so fucking wet. her head is thrown backwards, eyes rolled back too, and the noises coming from her mouth are positively *filthy*.
frantic whimpers of "daddy" and "feels s'good" and "please" drive you feral, and you swear under your breath before sitting up, agatha whining at the clench of your muscles under her.
"you're so fucking desperate," you grip her hips, stilling her movement and agatha genuinely wails. "couldn't wait, huh? daddy's needy little slut. can't even use my cock, getting off on my abs? pathetic whore."
"need you, daddy, please," her cunt throbs, and she feels your hardened cock pulse underneath her, and agatha gasps as you move to dig your fingers into her supple ass. "oh, baby, I know," your core muscles hurt from the awkward position, and they contract. when she pants, out of breath from her earlier endeavours, you roll your eyes mockingly.
"hump," you bite your lip at the moan that erupts from her at your command, and she obeys, her juices slick as she slides against you again. "so you can listen, hm? you just choose not to, little brat. need daddy to fuck your brains out? couldn't control yourself, had to touch yourself while daddy was asleep?"
she whines again, nodding quickly, "yes, daddy, fuck, couldn't help it- you looked so good, daddy, please-" cooing at her, you knead her soft cheeks, humming condescendingly.
"aww, my pathetic girl has to cum? beg for it, then."
-
okay I'm tapping out here because this is getting too long and i cant decide if i want her to be edged or cum without permission....... you get to decide, i guess!
(i personally am more on the beefy side and i do not have abs... so this is probably inaccurate lmfao. sorry dear i dont train for the aesthetic, as long as i can lift big things im good, so this is likely not uber accurate.)
hope you like your reward! let me know if anything was too much etc. i hope your exam went well / goes well, haha. take care dear 💜
-lots of love, worm anon
Oh my god 🫠 brb about to go to the gym in the first time in over a year and get those swimmer/rower abs back (completely unrelated to this of course)
I didn't know bottom!Agatha could be so hot HELP
Hmm I do think reader would let her cum for being so good and asking for it so nicely
I very much like my reward (thank you SO much) and as always, I can't wait for your next brainworm
#asks#brainworm#agatha harkness x fem!reader#agatha harkness x reader#agatha x reader#agatha x you#agatha harkness x you#agatha harkness smut#agatha smut
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There's no indication that anybody from Velaris is, or has the ability to become, a soldier for the night court. The only soldiers we see are darkbriners and Illyrians. Velaris has also been warded two times over to keep it hidden (even though nobody knew it existed anyway). There's also no indication that either Illyria or THC have access to the library in Velaris, or have any similar resourced (even though they are the only places that provide the NC soldiers, and, by the IC's own admission, rife with misogyny and abuse towards woman and children).
The ones who suffered under Amarantha's reign were Illyria and the Hewn City. Exclusively. The ones who fight to protect the Night Court are Illyria and The Hewn City. Exclusively. The ones who were orphaned and widowed by war (up until Velaris was attacked in ACOMAF for the FIRST TIME IN 5000 YEARS (which we can assume was when it was built)) was Illyria and The Hewn City. Exclusively.
Velaris has no slums. The Illyrians live in tents.
Velaris was by no means poor, its people mostly cared for, the buildings and streets well kept. My sister, it seemed, had managed to find the only thing relatively close to a slum. (ACOFAS Chapter 4)
And yet my sister managed to find the seediest, most miserable taverns in Velaris (ACOFAS Chapter 12)
Rhysand talked to the 'governors of the Palaces' and getting them to refuse service to the people from the Court of Nightmares.
“Starting with meeting with the governors of the Palaces and getting them to agree never to serve, shelter, or entertain Keir or anyone from the Court of Nightmares.” (ACOWAR Chapter 27)
“They have been sending out the word to every business owner in the city,” Rhys went on, “every restaurant and shop and venue. So Keir and his ilk may come here … But they will not find it a welcoming place. Or one where they can even procure lodgings.” (ACOWAR Chapter 27)
Velaris is built and protected on the blood of others. One of the only issues that they faced were a lack spices, and probably other imports, due to stopping trade for fifty years.
“It’s just … so lovely to have such spices available again—now that … that things are better.” (ACOMAF Chapter 29)
After it was all over, and Amarantha was dead, they could have reached out to other courts, offered aid and helped rebuild. Or, at minimum, they could've offered Illyria and The Hewn City, aid. They could've helped them recover. But they didn't.
Velaris protected by the blood and sacrifices of Illyria and the Hewn City. What exactly have the IC, or the people of Velaris done in exchange? Deny them service and lodging? Did nobody contest this? At all? Did nobody, in this entire city (a place that's supposed to be the only 'good' in the Nc) ever protest? Or even ask about the conditions in either Illyria or the HC?
I know that there was something similar happening in the winter court, with Viviane protecting a small city near the border, but in that case, Viviane had to stay there to keep whatever magic shielded it strong, whereas in Velaris, the city was already a secret, and shielded, so I'm still not following why he had to shield it again. Also, the city she protected took in any outsiders that made it there, and the wards on Velaris, actively encouraged people away from the city.
And in the aftermaths, there is no reason to think that Viviane, or the people of that city didn't extend their help in rebuilding The Winter Court to others who had not been as lucky. Whereas we know for a fact that neither the IC or the people/governors of Velaris didn't extend help. Instead, they agreed to help segregate the HC residents even more.
So the argument that 'Velaris is the only good place, because the The Court of Nightmares is made of monsters and Illyrians refuse to change' is bs. At this point, the only change either should make is letting the IC, and Velaris fend for themselves during the next war. There is no reason for them to lose their loved ones and spill their own blood for the people of a city that will refuse them service and lodging just because of where they're from, at the encouragement and behest of their shared monarch.
Remind me again, how and why that stupid bat should be high king? He can't even govern his own territory.
#anti rhys#anti inner circle#anti rhysand#anti ic#anti cassian#anti amren#anti mor#anti morrigan#anti sjm#anti velaris#sjm critical#ic critical#inner circle critical#acotar critical#acomaf critical#acowar critical#acofas critical#rhysand critical#anti high king rhys
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Baby Daddy!Logan thoughts
Wolverine x AFAB! reader
a/n: go into all of my x-men fics n stuff with canon as a mere suggestion :) this one's pretty ok,but yk. For future reference.
contents: fluff, girl dad!Logan,a kid b4 marriage(accidental but wanted),slight angst sprinkled in,lightly suggestive in one bit but it's not full nsfw or anything
🌸 Logan didn't mean to get you pregnant and he was honestly upset when you first found out. He was happy for you,bc you wanted kids but he didn't think he deserved to be a father.
🌸 Once he decided he was sticking around (because let's be honest,there was some part of him that thought leaving so you could find someone better was the move) he's very attentive.
🌸and I'm not just talking "oh,he goes to every check up and rubs your feet" I'm talking he will hike ten miles in the snow at 2 a.m if you're craving something specific and will return with a smile on his face because yeah,that was tough but you're growing a kid,which is harder.
🌸really wanted you to have a home birth,mainly because he doesn't trust medical situations,especially if you and the baby are also mutants. (and if you still do it at the hospital,he is fucking VIGILANT. He's watching every fucking thing that happens like a hawk.)
🌸you have a girl ofc
🌸he's never really been around kids this little,so for a long time he doesn't know what to do with her.
🌸he uses Jean's Facebook to look at parenting tips(he later learns this is not the greatest source),and consequentially ends up buying a ton of stuff that your daughter is too young to even need off Marketplace (bikes,clothes meant for much older kids,rain boots,jungle gym,etc.)
🌸he hates!! Hates!! those little tutus that seem to be on every little girl onesie, he thinks the tulle is scratchy and how on earth could someone subject their baby to that?
🌸a lot of the clothes your daughter winds up wearing are pretty gender neutral and frequently thrifted or bought from small businesses. Logan says this is because modern,mainstream baby clothes are "Down right fucking hideous,who designs this shit?"
🌸he makes some of her toys. A small set of wooden blocks here, a patchy ugly teddy bear there. He just doesn't love the unnaturally bright colors and loud noises that most baby toys come with,plus,he's got a lot of affection he doesn't know what to do with.
🌸hates late night diaper changes with a passion. He only just started sleeping without nightmares,and the baby won't even let him get a full 8 hours?? He takes all of them though,because "you do the more important stuff"
🌸big fan of the way your appearance changed,btw. I personally think he's always been the type to find stretch marks and some squish attractive,but the fact that these are from you growing his little girl makes it all the more beautiful.
🌸he is not,however,a fan of having to wait until you're healed up for bedroom stuff. He can do it, he's not an animal,but you're just so fucking gorgeous and he's so fucking happy. But,your health comes first, and he's not so stupid as to think he knows better than you on this.
🌸he doesn't quit smoking,but does at least start going outside and wearing a different jacket when he does it. He always washes his hands and face after he's done before he does anything near the baby.
🌸since this is *my* personal x-men canon, we're going to say that Laura is around the mansion somewhere and is not overly hyped about the baby sister. She's a little possessive over her dad,as some little girls are. (She'll get over it soon,especially once the baby is old enough to play with)
🌸Logan takes the baby on adventures once she's old enough to not get sick over everything. He'll pack a bag and disappear with Laura and the baby for a few hours,with very little explanation, and come back with a snoring toddler and a 10 year old covered in mud.
🌸he's happy that this kid has his mutation in it's organic form,instead of being injected with metal. however,it does make her stick out a bit visually. (she begins to display it at around age 11,with claws that aren't super sharp at all compared to Logan and Laura)
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
ok so that's it lolsies. Lmk if you want anything else with this idea or any specific scenarios.
#moonblossom writes#logan howlett#wolverine#xmen#baby fever#fluff#wolverine x reader#x reader fluff#girl dad Logan#logan howlet x reader
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can we get a tz11 where reader is nervous for something so he just does whatever he can to make her laugh and cheer her up 🙏
Sticks and Smiles
a/n: kirby my love, i'm sorry i made you wait so long for this 🧍♀️i hope i make you giggle while you read this MWAH love you 🧡
masterlist | NHL Masterlists | Trevor Zegras Masterlist
You had an important interview at work coming up, and as the day got closer, your nerves became more and more prominent. Trevor could see the toll it was taking on you, and it made his chest hurt. He hates seeing you so stressed out. His favorite activity is actually making you smile or laugh. It’s what gets him through his own hard days. He takes it upon himself to cheer you up. He can’t have his girl being down all the time. What kind of boyfriend would he be?
“Hey babe! What do you call a pig that does karate?” he wasn’t sure why, but dad jokes were his preferred method of cheering you up. It probably stems from when he said one on your first date because he was so nervous he wasn’t sure what to talk about. That was the first time he’d heard you really laugh, and he’s been chasing that high ever since.
“What, Trev?” you couldn’t hide the sigh in your words.
“A pork chop!” He managed to get a little grin out of you, but he wasn’t planning on stopping. He’d try again soon. Just about thirty-five minutes later, he decided he should throw out another joke.
“Why did the golfer bring two pairs of pants?”
“I don’t know, Trev. Why?” the grin was already making its way back onto your face, and he knew he was making progress.
“In case he got a hole in one. Duh,” he said the punchline in such a stupid tone you couldn’t help but let out one little chuckle. He waited almost an hour this time, giving it enough time that you might think he’s done.
“Baby. What did the policeman say to his belly button?” “Again?”
“Yes! C’mon!”
“Okay,” you sigh, but it was really just for dramatics, “what did he say?”
“You’re under a vest!” Trevor must’ve thought this one was pretty funny because he laughed before he could even catch your reaction. When he saw you fighting away a smile, he knew for sure his plan would work. He just couldn’t give up.
The two of you had just finished eating dinner when he dropped the next joke, “Why are there gates around cemeteries?”
Your brows are furrowed when you look at him, worried about where this joke might go, “Why?”
“Because people are dying to get in!”
“Trevor!” you try to scold him, but with the small laughs you’re letting out, you know he isn’t taking you seriously. He waits until you’re both in bed to tell you his last joke. You’d just gotten comfy, him cuddled up against your back.
“Babe,” he’s whispering horribly right into your ear, “what’s brown and sticky?”
“Trevor, no.”
“C’mon please.” Again, you sigh, “Okay. What is brown and sticky, Trev?”
He snorts before revealing the answer, “A stick.”
You can’t help it. That one gets you. Before long, you’re cackling right beside Trevor, and he’s loving it. It feels like it’s been forever since he’s seen you smile that brightly. Knowing he caused it makes him ten times happier.
“There’s my favorite smile,” he’s looking at you so tenderly that it leaves no room to doubt how he feels for you.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so stressed recently,” you’re not sure why you’re apologizing. You just felt the need to.
“Don’t be sorry. Just wanna be sure you’re happy. That’s all I ever want,” Trevor leans in to kiss your temple, and the two of you fall asleep like that, all tangled up in one another with smiles on your faces.
taglist: @heartsforjh @fofiquierellorar @devilinpradaheels @macklin-celebrini-71 @puckmedude @pickedapuck @alexxavicry @dancerbailey3
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#em's inbox#em's moots#heartsforjh#my kirby 🧡#em's writing#trevor zegras#trevor zegras x reader#tz11#anaheim ducks#nhl#nhl x reader
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IN THE NAME OF LOVE & OTHER THINGS | MYG - Royalty AU [oneshot]
Summary: In which you really tried not to fall for him, but some things are inevitable, and you're ready to give u everything to be with him.
Genre: Romance (and maybe a little agnst? bro idk this was an accident
WC: 1.6 K
Warnings: None that I can think of, if I'm being honest.
Pairings: Min Yoongi x F! Reader
Note: Yall this drabble was naawt supposed to happen but since it did, let's call it either a prelude or a spoiler for another project I have in the works. It has not been beta read or checked for errors any at all. Anyway, hope you enjoy reading it nontheless, it was a fun distraction ^^
Dividers by @thecutestgrotto & @strangergraphics
You two were never to meet. Afterall, you were both from two different worlds that only ever intertwined in the shadows. You lived in ballgowns and politics, delicate hands never even having to feed yourself if you lack any such desire on a given day. He lived in stone and clay and plaster, calloused hands rumoured to be tinged with gold or magic because of how he could bring any material to life.
You were the daughter of a Duke, and while he was indeed a prodigy, the most sought after artist in all the four kingdoms, that didn’t mean the public would take too kindly to a relationship or marriage between you. It would never work.
It’s what you’ve been trying to come up with a way to tell him that whatever it was between you two had to end. There was no future for it, nothing to look forward to.
So why did you fall in love with him? Just when did you manage to fall for the Hands of Midas himself?
You wondered if it was between the silences you’ve shared, as he was a man of few words. Or maybe it was the dedication and focus he had when he was working. Perhaps, one too many instances of you watching him work on the sculptures your father commissioned for the parlour. Nights where you hoped, prayed, wished and even went as far as risking your dignity to beg and plead with the skies if they could make you marble or clay or anything just once. How his hands moved creating lines and shadows, bringing new life to every area he touched - it made you wonder if he could bring a new life to you too.
You heard him laugh exactly once, but you vividly remember every smile and you secretly wished they were all for you.
If only you knew that Min Yoongi had saved every smile for you.
He never wanted to be sponsored by the Duke. He didn’t want anything to do with any of the nobles. He’d wanted to stay home, with his family. All he knew for his entire life was art. His mother’s singing, his father’s painting and his own love for sculpting. He was always quiet, observing the world around him and seeing every flaw. But Yoongi thought they were beautiful, so he used his hands to create the world that he sees, the one he loves. He didn’t need anything else. But going to stay with a wealthy family would be good for his own family. He’d get a great education, a place to stay and of course, he could sculpt whenever his heart desired- that’s what his mother told him as she sent him off on the carriage when he was younger.
Of course he missed his mother, cried for the first and last time the day he left. He was sure nothing could ever make leaving home worth it, wanted to curse the Duke and everything he stood for ripping him away from his recently widowed mother. Oh how that quickly changed when a girl with the kindest eyes and the biggest and brightest eyes ran out just as he was getting out of the carriage at the duchy. He noticed the dirt on her cheeks, how she seemed unbothered; happy. How she dragged along who he would correctly assume was a younger sibling- though she expressed more discomfort at whatever she was unwillingly being volunteered into.
Being sponsored by the Duke had its perks, though. Yoongi would get to spend his days learning whatever they thought he needed academically, and as soon as that was done he’d get to bask in the glow of his art and his loyal audience of exactly one. Just as he would trace the lines on his current project, you would be tracing him. Of course, he couldn’t help the smiles he desperately tried to suppress whenever you were around. That was the only thing that could happen between you two, he knew that. You and him could never happen, surely such a pairing would be doomed from the start. He could only ever dare to reach out to you in his most wretched dreams. That was as far as he would go.
That was how far he thought he would have gone until that day between the marble and the roses things went just a bit too far. Spilled wine, whispered confessions and shared desire broke years of silence and tension. Suddenly, the spectator was the centre of attention. Though Yoongi didn't miss the opportunity that you had always been the star in his eyes. A star he never thought he’d ever get to hold in his hands, despite the risk of being burnt.
The risk was great. He knew it and so did you.
And yet you would find yourself wrapped up in Yoongi always, somehow. You loved him, you were sure. So what if the risk was drowning? Whatever great thing that you were born to accomplish in this life couldn’t compare to loving him, being loved by him.
Your mother, ever the noble lady she tried to raise you to be, asked you if you were sure that this was what you wanted to do. Left without a word to speak to your father, you presumed. You knew what it would come down to at the end of the day, knew that surely you couldn’t have your cake and eat it too.
Your father was always the kind of man to talk about duty and honour. Never failing to tell you and your sister the importance of the roles you were born in. He’d always encouraged you both that being a leader in any sense of the word, was to be wise both in mind and the heart. You were in his office with your sister when he told you that knowledge was just a blade without the handle of wisdom. You were also in his office whenever he scolded you for something like missing lessons with the governess (again) or whenever he praised you for a beautiful painting you made.
This time, you sat stood before him, too scared, too nervous for the outcome. Hoping the ‘But father, I love him’ you were holding on your tongue would be enough of an explanation for him. Hoping that you didn’t break down and cry and beg and plead for him to let you go. That you really tried not to fall for him, but some things were inevitable. You had so much to say in your defense. All ready to run away should they decide to lock you up in the duchy forever or marry you off to some old widower. You weren’t prepared for when your father took your own hand in his, and looked at you with something that you truly did not have the words to describe. “Are you truly serious about this? Do you love him, ___?”
“With everything,” The tears you planned to use and beg were now threatening to make an appearance for a whole different reason. “I don’t want to have to live a life knowing I gave up the chance to love him.” You sat at his feet like you used to when you were much smaller. “I know you’re disappointed in me and that I’ve let you down but father, I’m-”
You never got to apologise. Not when your father told you you had nothing to apologise for, that he knows this must have meant a lot to you since you actually wanted to apologise for breaking the rules this time. He hugged you and told you he’d already spoken to Yoongi, that you both shouldn’t just run away, that he’d take care of everything- that he could make sure you were safe one last time. What could you have possibly done, except cry while your father held you for the first time in a long time, for the last time in a long time.
It’s how you found yourself still crying in the arms of your younger sister. You had come to tell her that you had made your mind up, you came to tell her goodbye.
Evening came, stealing away the daylight, but also bringing the time you were to leave everything familiar and dear to you behind. You were still in your sister’s room, head in her lap as she absentmindedly stroked her fingers through your hair. It was almost as if she was the older one today, but then again- she was always the more composed of the two of you. You were leaving her with a heavy burden, a great responsibility. But you knew that she could handle it much better than you ever would, with much more grace than you could even think to imagine.
“What is love, that you’re so willing to give everything up like this?” You took some time before answering your sister’s question, only to put your thoughts together.
“Love is something that knocks on your door at odd hours in the night. It warms your cheeks when you're out during the day, it chases you through meadows- it’s an adventure that comes to find you when it knows you're ready to sacrifice everything to chase it. Eventually, you’ll find yourself where love rests.”
“I’m afraid you’ve left me even more confused than I was three minutes ago…” She looked at you, the sad smile not reaching her eyes.
“One day, you will find love, and find yourself, and find your answer.” That’s what you told her as you embraced her for the last time for a long time.
You yourself often wondered what love was. But in the carriage your father arranged for you the night you left home, in the place you now live with a man you were convinced was born from your dreams, in the letters you exchange with your sister ever so often… You can safely say you found it.
AN: Thanks again for reading everyone, feedback is always appreciated 😘.
Taglist
@livingformintyoongi @moochii-daisies @peoniesnro
#min yoongi#min Yoongi × reader#yoongi drabble#yoongi fluff#yoongi x y/n#yoongi x reader#yoongi scenarios#yoongi oneshot#bts x y/n#bts x reader#bts fluff#bts drabble#bts one shot#Cathy wrote it#In the name of love & other things | MYG
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