#someone encourage me when i inevitably move onto something else | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lightlycareless · 1 year ago

Note

So HOTTT of Naoya to be an equestrian champion... *bites lip*

Heya anon! Sorry for the late reply, oof. I wanted to post this a while ago but in-between me just lazying it up, working on the main fic, and dealing with other emotional things I just... didn't lol.

But I'm here now! And I gotta say, I enjoyed writing something different from the usual :> I'm actually working on something else, which I hope to post soon... we shall see.

Anyways, your ask reminds me of this one fic I absolutely love 😭!!

Just to hear someone being the champion of something, regardless of what it is… I don’t know, fascinating. I’m like wow they’re the best in the world in that particular niche. And it makes you wonder if they’ve always been inclined to that, if they’ve always been good and whatnot. Wow.

But moving forward, here are the warnings for this 2-part (yay!) oneshot: explicit content, a bit of smut, Naoya is in it so either expect him to be a complete a-hole, misogynistic, objectifying, rude, yadayada, the usual lol.

Now onto the good stuff:

Let’s imagine that you were somewhat related to the “equestrian/horse jockey/racer” lifestyle since you were a child because you come from a long line of racers. Your dad was a horse jockey, your mom too, your grandpa, so on and so forth. You’re kind of royalty at this point, however, none of your relatives held the title of champion until your brother (Ren gashgkjhasjk) came along, that finally put your family on the map, cue your somewhat of a celebrity status. A… D-list celebrity, compared to your B-list almost A celebrity of a brother, in a universe where horse racing is very, insanely popular.

You were never forced to partake in the family tradition, after all was said and done, they were competitive but not a-holes when it came to their own relatives, so instead you decided to pursue somewhat of a normal lifestyle, get a career, whilst supporting your brother.

Cue rising star Naoya Zen’in, heir of the prestigious Zen’in clan that everyone suspected to be involved in shady business and often kept to themselves, so who would’ve thought they also liked to partake in competitions?

Because of his sudden apparition, as well as his exceptional skills, you’re naturally attracted to know more about this mysterious man who seems to give your brother a run for his money when obtaining the title of champion—or at least, that’s what the tabloids want it to appear, of course, until he inevitably does.

Having achieved what no one has ever done before (or at least as close as he had, since other racers like Gojo and Geto often take more of a… calm approach towards the competition, as if this was a pastime rather than a career), your interest in him reaches a new record high.

And you couldn’t be blamed—the more interviews you saw of him, the more you found him fascinating. The way he expressed himself when talking about his work gave you the impression that he was highly dedicated to his career, and you’d only seen that once or twice in your life.

But what caught your interest the most… was his charisma, and handsome appearance.

Naoya just carried an aura which forbade your eyes from straying away, even with the warnings your brother gave you, you just… couldn’t stop thinking about him.

“He’s a complete asshole— arrogant, snarky, and overall petty. I don’t want you getting near him.”

To which you quickly disregarded, telling him that: “Well, he’s obviously like that with you because you’re his direct competitor!”

You’d go against his warnings by attending his training sessions, which were only made available to other competitors or close relatives—you, being sister of the past champion, gave you the necessary access to see him up close and personal, although there wasn’t much closeness when it came to it, because although these interactions weren’t prohibited, they weren’t encouraged either, limiting yourself to observe him from the bleachers instead.

That, of course, and the shyness that rendered you immoble whenever realizing how close he was to you settled in.

This distance wouldn’t last long, however, for it was only a matter of time that he’d notice he was being observed by his rival’s sister, and that fact did not sit well with him at all.

Naoya didn’t like your brother, for according to him, he was too arrogant, evidently because he believed no one would ever dare take the title of champion out of his hands, growing confident, sloppy even, until harsh reality came crashing down onto him when it finally occurred.

The look on his face when the score ended in his favor was one Naoya would never forget, nor the roaring screams from the crowd when the verdict was finally announced.

He doesn’t presume your brother to be having the time of his life, and desperate to retrieve the position he once held, he retorted to deploying all kinds of methods to find a weakness of his to exploit.

He’s highly aware of how the families of competitors tended to work, thanks to some nasty experiences and growing up in such treachery too.

Their means were simple: they’d either mess up with the rider’s equipment, bribe the judges, or to the worse felony yet, directly attack the horse. Some have even died through these dirty altercations, and all to ensure victory.

It would be hypocritical of Naoya to deny he hadn’t done something like that before, considering the reputation of his family and the extensive possibilities at his command, but he can confidently say that he’d never made use of them outside a few occasions, his talent doing most of the job when earning triumphs.

Taking all of this into consideration, he thinks you must be one of those schemes sent out by a jealous competitor intended to distract their rival one way or the other.

He thought of it adorable, really, as if he’d fall for something so silly as a honey pot.

Sure, you were good looking, but it would take much more than that to get him distracted more so when he could easily get what you offered from the flock of fangirls that followed him around.

For all he knew, you were probably getting trained to be a racer too, whether to replace your brother after his failure or to keep the championship within the family, he didn’t know—although he wasn’t so sure about his theory, since he hadn’t seen you around the competitions outside of cheering for your brother and friends from afar, or wishing them good luck backstage before going onto the field.

Well, whatever it was, Naoya didn’t like you, not one bit. He thought of you as an annoyingly consistent mosquito buzzing around his ear whenever he caught a glimpse of you.

Just what exactly were you doing? Trying to read his movements so you could go rushing to your brother and tell him all about it? Pathetic.

But what was more pitiful was the way you’d look at him, wide-eyed and astounded, cheeks red whenever passing you by, unable to even respond to his greetings whenever he acknowledged you, outside of a squeak and a hurried “excuse me” before disappearing.

You were the epitome of displeasure.

“—And not only that, but rude too.” Naoya would tell his closest confidant, the one that prepared everything for his training sessions, and a childhood friend. “All members of her family must be like that—If it were up to me, I would’ve disqualified them just by that.”

“I don’t think she’s acting like that because she’s rude, Naoya” Ranta dared to say otherwise, much to the current champion’s irritation who often, if not always, liked to be agreed with.

“What else then?” he hisses, twisting his face into a scowl.

“I think it’s because… she likes you.”

Now it was Naoya’s moment to be startled.

Like him?

Surely Ranta must’ve hit his head on the way there to come up with that stupidity. There’s no way someone like you, having such a close relationship with the previous champion, would find interest in him outside of contempt. That’s just not how these things worked!

But let’s say it wasn’t that— let’s say… you did hold some kind of attraction towards him.

Your shyness suddenly made sense, why you rarely spoke to him, why you’d always look at him with fascination, a smile on your face whenever you saw him accomplish particularly hard trick with his horse, silently cheering for him whenever doing the rest of his routine… all while keeping distance.

If you were in the supposed mission of discovering a non-existent weakness in him, you would’ve approached him by now.

But you didn’t, and Ranta’s speculation might be the reason why.

And from that point forward, as if by the work of a miracle, perhaps allured for having the sister of his rival seemingly head over heels for him, Naoya begins to look at you through a different prospect.

It wouldn’t take long before he grew tired of your aloofness, though, impatient of waiting to see when you’d dare approach him, so he thought he’d do you a favor and take the first step himself—much to your horror.

“Hey!”

You’d hear him call one day after his training was done; at first you thought it was just your mind making up things, victim of all the immeasurable scenarios you’ve made up in your head… However, when you heard his voice again, turning your head to corroborate your assumptions, you knew it was real.

You freeze for a quick second upon realizing he was approaching you, before your survival instincts kick in and make a run for it.

“Hey—Where are you going?! Hey!” Naoya yells, rushing to your side and getting a hold of your hand, rooting you in place. The suddenness of his movement, as well as having him touch you, makes you think you're going to faint. “Why the hell are you running off like that? It’s not like I'm mugging you!"

“I—I needed to—to go!” you shriek, tugging and writhing against his hold I'm trying to escape, all whilst keeping your gaze as far away from him. He notices that. “I'm running late to—to—!"

“At least look me in the eye if you’re going to dismiss me.” He says, a smirk on his face as he sees your struggling stop at the same time your ears turn red.

That would've been enough for many, having seen you embarrassed enough, but for Naoya there is no such thing as too much, as he proceeds to further ridicule you. “Is that how you treat your brother's rival? I thought that even after all that, we could still count on each other to have an amicable relationship…"

Your breath hitches as your worst fears materialize before you.

"I—I didn’t mean to… appear rude.” you whisper. The rumors surrounding your brother and him were already nasty as they were… the last thing you wanted was to be added into the equation.

Although you were more concerned for not leaving a first bad impression—even if you envisioned this moment happening way differently.

“Well, that’s all you’ve been to me—staring at me from afar. Not bothering to say hello, even when I greet you… and now, avoiding me.” he laments, as if he cared for this before Ranta made it aware you liked him, and your eyes widened.

Has he really been all that aware of you? If that was the case, then he really was impressive… to keep attentive to his training, while being aware of someone so irrelevant like you is something only talented people like him could pull off.

“…I… I’m sorry” you murmur “I… know it’s not an excuse, but… I didn’t know what to say. I guess I was surprised you… noticed…. Me” you drift on the last part, voice growing smaller and smaller as hotness settles on your cheeks.

“Why?” he asks, tilting his head a bit to the side, a gesture that makes you feel silly, put on the spot. Exactly where he wanted you. “Am I that… unapproachable?”

“I didn’t mean that!” you gasp, rushing to reassure Naoya upon seeing his face gloom. A reaction that would instantly infatuate Naoya, prompting him to tease you whenever possible to get that flustered face out of you. “…I just… admire you. And I… was too ashamed of telling you. I mean, you must hear it from everyone already, so why would I make any difference…?”

“You? Admiring me?” Naoya blurts, a bit too loud for his liking. Fortunately, you take his response as an act of humbleness, not him reflecting on the doubts Ranta planted on his mind. Doubts… he was ready to discard, until he received direct confirmation from your voice.

Quite unexpected, but welcomed nonetheless.

“Surely your brother was far more impressive. He was the champion… until I came along of course”

“Oh—I, I mean I guess so.” You chuckle nervously, “But… I like your technique better.”

“You ride?” by your selections of words, he has to inquire. Had it been a casual watcher, they probably would’ve said something redundant such as “you look cool” or “how do you get the horse to do that?”

But coming from you and your background, his theory of you being trained to be a jockey, if not one already, rises to the occasion, alongside the idea of you being sent to spy on him—

“No” you respond, and it’s his time to be surprised.“Not really, the rest of my family are the ones that know all that stuff, but of course, you already know that” you laugh, and he raises an eyebrow.

“Then what? Are you afraid of horses or something?”

“It’s not like that!” you laugh, shaking your head. “I just… I don't like the sensation, that’s all. Kind of ironic, isn’t it? Considering everyone around seems to love it.”

Naoya doesn’t ponder on your answers too much, outside of what he can take to his advantage, of course. Judging by your reaction, the way you were referring to him, and your words, he comes up with two conclusions:

You’re telling the truth. And that you’re undoubtedly, irrefutably stars-truck by him. If not enamored at this point, by him.

A succession convincing enough to hitch him to you, believing he can get his fair share of fun from it, see just how far your desperation to please him will get you, and who knows? Even drive his rival crazy while at it.

Oh, he can already imagine the look on his face once your brother knows about it…

Partially made possible by the tabloids, who didn’t take long to notice something was up when they saw the two together getting dinner at some nearby, luxurious restaurant, courtesy of Naoya after a few days of insistence.

“I can’t, I don’t think it’s right” you’d try to reject him, and while he found your coyness adorable, the fact that he had to insist was annoying the hell out of him.

“Come on” he persists, eyes softening and lips pouting so as to pull your heartstrings “It’s the least I could do after the support you’ve been giving me”

You end up accepting, and the rest is history… recorded on the articles that began to circulate across the internet, the words “Naoya Zen’in in a relationship with his rival’s sister?!” their main, eye-catching title.

He didn’t care about it, in fact, he thrived on the attention, fed his ego and gave him the impression of invincibility, much to his manager’s displeasure, who had grown exhausted of telling and begging Naoya to be careful with his public persona…

You, on the other hand, never being one to be under the limelight, began to suffer the consequences of said thing. Starting by your mother, who reminded you that your actions not only affected you, but your brother’s reputation, which… “You are going to be in charge in a few years, once I retire from being his manager. Remember, it’s easier to maintain than to improve.”

To your brother, who stormed through your bedroom door as soon as the rumors graced his ears, with a newspaper in hand serving as evidence, intending to seek an answer.

“D—dating him?!” You flinch upon hearing his booming voice, a tone rarely used by him, if not to express his great happiness after a successful competition. “Of all people, you’re dating him?!”

“Who?!” you gasp, heart thundering against your chest as you drop what you were doing—nothingless than paperwork, for your almost due project. If you hadn’t been distracted by Naoya, this wouldn't be an issue… “What are you talking about?!”

“Who— Who else am I talking about, Y/N, if not the man you went to get dinner with yesterday??” he frowns, shoving the newspaper to you, giving it a quick reading before jumping back to Ren. “Why the hell would you go and fraternize with the enemy after the warnings I gave you?!”

“I just… went to get something to eat… it’s not a big deal.” And maybe that’s all that it was, although you wouldn’t tell him that you’d been fantasizing with the idea of being something more, thanks to the fact that you’ve kept contact with him, already received another invitation to go eat with him.

“… did he do something?” He asks, referring to his crude nature and another rumor that circulated between racers. If he hears, even if it’s the smallest, briefest implication that he had taken advantage of you—!

“No, of course not! You know that as soon as he does something I don’t like, he’s gone!” you reassure him, or attempt to anyway, for your brother is… quite stubborn when it comes to changing his mind on something he doesn’t like.

Well, it’s not like he can do anything about it now, outside of hoping Naoya will keep his hands to himself, if not out of respect for you, at least for the sake of their “friendly” competition.

A sentiment that would struggle to remain, for that point forward the tabloids would just get crazier and crazier with their titles the more they saw the two together.

They always presented the same thing, of course, that the two were in some kind of secret relationship, probably to stir your brother (now introducing some kind of jealous rivalry between you and him) or that you’d jumped alliances to enjoy the privileges of a champion.

All things that amused Naoya to no end, but greatly irritated you.

“I don’t like it” you’d confide to Naoya one night while he was driving you back home. “They’re saying nothing but a bunch of lies!”

“First time dealing with the tabloids?” he smirks, but far from being cheered up, your frown deepens.

“I don’t want this to affect my family”

“Then it won’t” he says, a free hand reaching over to your face and pinching your cheek “As long as you know the truth, who cares what they say?”

And you take his words to heart—after all, what you’re going through is nothing compared to him. So he must know how to navigate these situations.

You take his hand, turning around to see him and give him a smile.

“Thank you”

The two kept seeing each other, more and more frequently—always willing to join Naoya wherever he wanted to take you, to the point that’s all you looked forward to. Not even finishing your career, or helping out your mom with Ren’s upcoming PR events.

All that you wanted was to be with Naoya, see what kind of wonderful things he’ll show you on this occasion, and be overall happy.

And as things proceeded between the two… it naturally didn’t take long before things became a bit more serious.

There were never actual words muttered to imply the beginning of your relationship with him, but one day, it just made sense.

“Wow—it’s quite late, much more than what I expected!” you say upon noticing the dark sky, whilst holding his hand as the two leave the place both got dinner at.

It was a miracle that there was no one to snap a picture of the two as they left the building, but that didn’t stop either from enjoying themselves to the best of their ability, being able to enjoy the quietness of the night for the first time in weeks.

“And cold too!” you shivered, unwittingly squeezing his hand, a gesture he replicates. “Makes me want to get something warm…”

Naoya doesn’t respond, like he usually does. Back then it was because he thought your conversations to be a bit too silly to engage in completely, but now, it’s because he likes to listen to your voice.

“Think we can go to a nearby coffee shop and get something?” you ask, stopping on your tracks, releasing his grasp and skipping ahead of him, turning to face him.

The way you look at him is endearing, with big round eyes as if pleading him to consider your proposal, and a grin on your face he can’t help but feel warmed by it—maybe he’ll skip on the coffee. “You can get something too! I’ll pay for it, to make up for dinner, hmm? How about that? I know of a very good place too, you won’t regret it”

You continue to beam, and Naoya, by some strange reason, perhaps overwhelmed by your adorableness, leans down to your level and kisses you.

It’s a quick peck, nothing less than his lips brushing over yours in a sweet, loving gesture, but it’s enough to leave you dumbfounded during and after he peeled away from you.

Trying to understand what had just occurred, you blink rapidly, wanting to clear the image before you and debunk any possibilities of an hallucination—but the lingering warmth on your lips and cheeks proves you otherwise, more so when you look up to Naoya who was starting at you with the same startled look on his face.

Neither knew why the kiss happened, only that Naoya was suddenly inundated with the urge to do it, that you were a flustered mess, and that both liked it, feeling that regardless of why it occurred, it was the right thing to do.

The relationship between the two soon began to flourish into something deeper, more intimate, and quite intense too. You’d soon discover that Naoya was nothing of a gentle lover, but rather… passionate, desperate to get the new flavor you provided, whether it be stealing all of your kisses whenever possible, hoarding all of your attention on him when you were free —even if you were not…

Or exploring places where no one else had seen before.

“Am I really your first one?” Naoya mutters against your ear, appearing skeptic of your claims, as he holds you up against him, pounding and thrusting deep into your core as you hold back your moans, biting your lip to the point you’re sure it’s bleeding, but even with the pain you don’t relent, nor does the champion when it comes to wrecking your insides. “Tell—Tell me, princess” he groans; it’s always the same, whenever he teases you with one of his thousand pet names, your walls tighten, harshly squeezing him to the point he thinks you might cut his dick off—and he can’t get enough of it. He smirks at the sensation, thrusting sharper into you. “Has anyone else—anyone else touched you like this?”

Not that he actually cares for actual confirmation—he just has to remember the stammering, heated mess you were when he implied the faintest need of wanting to spend the night with you to know you’d been a virgin all this time. As expected of a secluded, overprotected girl like you. Oh, he had so much to teach you…

“N—Nao—yaa” you whimper, unable to do anything else but chant the name of the man that is making you nothing but a drooling mess. “Mmmhmm!”

You cry, eyes rolling to the back of your head, when he hits that spot that has you a mumbling mess, whenever the tip of his cock touches it, you see stars—you never knew such thing could be possible, always thinking of it as nothing less than exaggerations of unattainable porn standards, but Naoya proves you yet again that whatever he sets his mind into, he obtains.

As his thrusts continue to attack your womb, you’re reaching your end, mind-numbing so, and all that you want to do is keep him there, deep inside you, and never let him go, evident by the way your arms tighten around his shoulders, hands crawling against his back, urging him to keep that pace, pleading:

“Naoya—Naoya…. Right—right there, Nao—” he smiles, giving you a rather harsh trust that has you jolting, squeaking just in his ear that has him moaning too—he can feel his seed itching to be released inside, and who was he to deny himself such pleasure?

“Y/N” he mutters hotly against you, nibbling your ear “Come—I want you to come with me—!”

And then, you do. Your release is a shower of sensations, from pleasure, happiness, satisfaction, a bit of tiredness to heat when Naoya finally spills inside you, filling your cervix up to the brim, to the point you feel him up to your throat—you want to run away from this overwhelming sensation, yet your core feels as if it’s demanding you to stay, be a good girl and take what he’s giving you.

But after you milk the last of his cum, deep inside your core, and he takes your lips, hungry, eagerly, as it was the norm whenever he kisses you and takes all your moans, is that the strongest sentiment comes to light: love.

“Naoya…” you breathe, chest heaving as he falls to your side, taking this opportunity to place your head on his chest and hear his rapid heartbeat.

Getting to experience this closeness with your favorite person, and coincidentally, the man you undeniably love… makes you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

And you want to tell him that.

“Naoya” you repeat, low, uncertain, yet your heart is desperate to continue forward..

“What? Already ready for another round?” he teases, a sly smirk on his flustered face, and you pout.

“No… that’s not it.” You murmur, he chuckles.

“Good, I still have to recover from what we just did, for a minute I thought you were going to cut off my dick by how hard you were squeezing me.” he sighs, tired.

He’s always been blunt, a virtue you appreciate him for. But for tonight, it’s not what you were hoping to be with after being so close to each other, so… intimate, and just when you were debating whether to pour your heart out or not…

You give it a few seconds of thought, finally concluding that perhaps another day would be a better occasion. After all, you knew just how… intimidating it could be to hear someone’s feelings towards you, as well as how busy Naoya was to be for the upcoming season, and you don’t want to distract him…

So you don’t say it.

You mean them all the same, but you don’t say them in that particular moment.

Every other day you’d be inundated with these same doubts and emotions whenever he’d take you—some of them spiking higher than the others due to the location of said acts, such as in the stables, quickly after putting his horse away.

You’d soon believe he had a knack for… taking you in public places, considering how intensely he’d ravage you, more so when given the faintest hint of another’s presence, which would always make you cower and squirm, or at least try to, because you were never be able to compete against him and his desires”

“What? Afraid that they’ll see us like this? See you like this?” he’d husk, harshly thrusting his hips against you, hands on your hips as he sets a rough,

“St—stop it” you’d say, to the best of your ability in between thrusts, for no matter how many times you’ve done this with him you could never get used to his roughness. “They—they’re going to see—!”

“Tell that to your cunt, princess” Naoya breathes, pulling you close to him, his breath is in your ear, hand hovering over your clit, squeezing it ever so lightly to get you just where he wants you. “The way you’re squeezing me—it’s— it’s like you—you want them to see”

He may say it with a worried tone, as if wondering if he'd be able to survive your seeming hunger for his cock, but his smile tells him otherwise.

“But that’s what you want, isn’t it? Let the world know how much you love fucking your brother’s rival”

You frantically shake your head, biting your lip when his words become too lewd, unwittingly tightening your walls against his cock.

Your grasp lunges towards his hands, attempting to stop him from rubbing your clit and overwhelm your senses any further, or his roaming hand across your body which now settled in kneading and squeezing your breasts—although you always loved how crazy it drove you.

“Is my princess all needy for my cum?” he breathes, his trusts growing faster, erratic, while he harshly pinches your clit—he’s close.

“N—no…” is all that you manage to whimper through the knot in your throat, and the embarrassment that only makes you feel hotter and hotter when you begin to feel the familiar wave of blood rushing down to your pussy—you’re close too. “I don’t—I don’t—”

“Of course, not” he chuckles, leaning to kiss the side of your face. You moan at the contrasting difference of the obscene and the sweet, which only makes your heart skip a beat. “You’d never say that—you’re too much of a good girl to ever say that.”

And then, after a few more thrusts and moans of pleasure, reminding you just how much he loves fucking you, his hot seed spills inside you, painting every inch of your walls white and giving you that delicious, eye-rolling sensation that has you cumming immediately after— mind numb as your juices begin to gush onto him, mixing with his cum before sliding down your leg and onto the floor.

The stains of his cum leaves behind undeniably evidence of what transpired between the two, a sight that makes you flustered beyond limits, reminding you to clean up before leaving, but even then, all that you can think of is Naoya, and how much you truly, deeply, love him.

“Nao—Naoya…” you gasp, eyes watery, breath heavy, as your arms rise to wrap around his shoulders and pull him closer to you—he allows you, while doing his best to keep inside you. If there’s one thing he likes the most, outside of how you tightly grip him while cumming, is how you keep him warm afterwards. Said it felt like home. “…Naoya—”

“What?” he exhales, looking down to you as he tries to regain his breath. The person they heard approaching a few minutes earlier was completely out of his mind by this point, whether they’d seen them and left, or decided to stay and watch the show, it didn’t matter to him. Not anymore. Not when you were here. “You’re going to wear out my name.”

Maybe. You can’t help it after all—you just love how it rolls out on your tongue. Or how much you wanted to say it with the following words.

“I love you.”

You feel him tense up a bit, but you don’t think of anything else about it outside of being taken aback by your confession. He’s not very… affectionate when it comes to displaying it through words, sometimes even actions. Yet, you console yourself by the fact that he always comes back to you. You’ve become his home, and to you, that’s worth more than any “I love you”’s he could tell you.

At least for now.

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x your #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader

50 notes · View notes

sunsblaze · 3 months ago

Text

The mere seconds of peace she was allowed in the warmth of this jovial tavern she couldn’t help but think of her sister, they had parted on bad terms and now she was sure she was going to die before she would be able to right those wrongs, she knew he was coming for her, but a part of her had hoped he would avoid such a lively place and instead cling to the shadows. As the door creaked open- as that thick blanket of impending doom laid itself across her shoulders she would place her phone back into her bag and dab her tears away with the sleeve of her blazer.

She decided then that she would not perish without a fight, he would have to earn her life.

And so, the peaceful woman would stand tall as she put distance between her and her pursuer, a lame attempt at avoiding the inevitable struggle she would have to endure, a struggle that would only end one way within her mind. There was nowhere else for her to turn to, the wall behind her would be her only solace, something firm to help ground her in the moment, to keep her fear at bay so her mind could work.

It was hard.

The sheer terror he instilled in her was astronomical, it almost overwhelmed her senses, she could feel his malice- the intent to do harm, but that feeling, it only fueled this newfound defiance that seared its way through her body- through her very soul. For a moment she could have sworn she felt hands upon her own and a deep, gentle voice whispering encouragement in hear ear. A ghost of the past guiding her in battle.

Even as her soul laid bare before him, she did not falter, she did not even flinch as he invaded her personal space, she simply pressed a palm to his chest in attempt to keep some distance from him. The only sound that lingered in the moment was the galloping of the young woman’s heart behind her ribs as she stared within the eyes of the devil himself, a twisted beast, a killer. The tension in the air was unbearable, she felt if she would reach out it would slice through her skin like butter.

“You are one to talk, demon.” The mere sound of his voice made her shudder, her stomach knotting almost unpleasantly at the way his voice seemed dangerously seductive. “Death is an unavoidable fact of life, it comes for us all in the end…if you strike me down now I am certain the day will come where someone will send you to hell as well.” When his gaze broke from hers she could practically feel his eyes raking over her body causing her to shift under his gaze, her legs drawing together tightly as she took a second to let her eyes wonder his frame before one again meeting his unsettling gaze.

“I think you will find yourself surprised.”

In a flash she felt fingers curling around the delicate flesh of her throat, nails prickling at her skin as she was easily lifted off of her feet almost as if she weighed nothing at all, her supply of oxygen cut in an instant. One of her high heels would slip from her foot, clattering to the hard, wooden floor, her hands quickly moving to grasp onto his arm, violet faux nails curling into the demon’s flesh as she glared at him, fire burning deep within her eyes like a blazing sun. She would make sure no one stood behind the demon before she would coil her body tightly and just as quickly as he had moved she would slam her feet into his chest with all the might her powerful legs could muster.

The force was unlike any other human he had met other than her male counterpart, with a single kick if her legs she had sent the demon flying, smashing through tables and chairs before ultimately breaking through the door and into the adjacent building which was luckily a simple storage building. Left behind was his arm torn from his body at the elbow and still clutching her throat as she fell back to the ground and onto her knees, only then did the hand fall from her neck.

Just like the Yoriichi he had known before, she was a force of nature, a being made for tearing the shadows apart.

As she pulled herself back to her feet she would use her sleeve to wipe the sweat from her brow and with her swear the concealer she wore was wiped away as well, exposing a glimpse of deep crimson that painted her forehead.

The evening was as still as a held breath, the kind of quiet that makes the most innocuous sounds feel like a declaration of war. In a quaint tavern, nestled in the shadows of a moonlit alley, the soft murmur of conversations and clinking of mugs created a gentle melody that lulled the patrons into a sense of comfort. Yet, amidst this tranquil scene, a disturbance grew, unseen by all but one.

The woman, had sought refuge in the tavern to escape the cold embrace of the night. She was tall, with hair the color of a raven's wing that fell in soft waves to her waist, framing a face that was a canvas of fiery determination. Her attire was peculiar, a blend of elegance and utility that suggested she was no ordinary village girl, there was something different about her. It was something he had never seen before, did she think the warmth and light would keep the shadows at bay, but she had underestimated the darkness that followed her. There was no getting away from him.

The hairs on the back of her neck would stand up, a primal instinct warning her of impending danger. He had found her, there was nowhere Yoriichi would be able to go, nowhere Yoriichi would be able to run, nowhere Yoriichi would be able to hide that he would not be able to follow her, find her, seek her out a thousand times over and over and go right towards her, with him there was no mistaking it, there was no such thing as escape when he has his sights set upon you.

It was when she turned back to her drink that she saw the reflection in the polished metal of a mug hanging above the bar. A figure stood in the doorway, tall and imposing, his eyes glowing with an unearthly light that pierced through the candlelit gloom. The room fell silent, the music playing in the background a mere echo of the cacophony of her racing thoughts. The demon, for that's what she knew him to be, stepped closer, his movements as graceful as a panther stalking its prey. The air grew colder, the very fabric of reality seeming to warp around him.

He heard the heart hammer in her chest like a blacksmith's anvil, each beat a reminder of her own mortality. He could see her, she had to have known she couldn't outrun him, not for long, and she certainly couldn't fight him with her mere human strength. But she was not about to let fear dictate her fate, which was something he noted, something that reminded him of Yoriichi. The demon's eyes narrowed, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he took in the sight of her.

He took another step forward, and the room grew colder still. His eyes bore into hers, holding her in a gaze that seemed to strip away all pretense and reveal the very essence of her soul. For a moment, she felt as if she was looking into the abyss, and the abyss was looking back. Then, with a low chuckle that sent shivers down her spine, he spoke.

"You're a curious creature, aren't you?" His voice was like velvet over sharpened steel, smooth and yet deadly. "Most humans would cower at the sight of me. But you... you stand your ground." He paused, his eyes traveling over her form as if he were a connoisseur examining a fine piece of art. "I think I'd like to find out just how much spirit you have within you."

The demon's smile grew, revealing a set of teeth that were definitely not human.

"Oh, I'm counting on it," he said, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. As he grabbed her, hand around her throat and he lifted her from the ground like she weighed paper he slammed her against the wall, as the entire tavern was alive with panic, people moving, running, or coming to aid, but he was like a mountain, no one could move him.

“Yoriichi ….”

#blessed by the sun || yoriichi #howling moon || kokushibo #tw: violence

13 notes · View notes

bicycle-brakes · 4 years ago

Text

did i just spend my entire day plotting out an enemies-to-penfriends-to-friend-friends-to-maybe-lovers episolary slow burn long(song)fic?

yes, yes i did

inspired by this beautiful song

16 notes · View notes

unfoundhoney · 4 years ago

Text

toe the line ; part one ↠

↠ slimecicle x fem!reader ; angst , fluff in future chapters

↠ masterlist

↠ part one ; part two ; part three ; part four

↠ inspired by this tiktok/scene

“And now,” Charlie announces, “An excerpt from our dear Y/N’s precious diary.”

Your heart stops in your chest.

Charlie is your best friend; he has been for years. You first met online and later moved into an apartment together, which is currently where all your friends are gathered for a small get together.

So, here’s the thing about your journal: it is where you write down the darkest secrets from the depths of your soul. Not to be overdramatic or anything, but you would rather die than have someone read your journal. And if there is one person above all else who should not read any entry in it, it’s Charlie.

You know- you know he’s only teasing. You’re all friends here and you know this isn’t meant to be harmful. As far as Charlie knows, you tell him everything actually important. And you do. He’ll know most of everything that you’ve written in your journal. Except for one thing.

You stand quickly, “Charlie-“

Ted pulls you back onto the couch with a laugh.

“Yes! Let’s learn all of Y/N’s deepest, darkest secrets,” Cooper encourages.

“Guys, seriously,” you protest. “Charlie, give me my journal. Do not-“

They probably think you’re messing around with how serious you’ve gotten all of a sudden. That’s why Ted continues to hold you back and playfully puts a hand over your mouth.

You try to squirm your way out of his hold but it doesn’t work. You can literally feel your heart beating out of your chest as fear seizes at every corner of your mind. You promised yourself that Charlie would never find out about this. He can’t. It’ll ruin everything.

“Ahem. From... ooh, just a few days ago, Y/N wrote: ‘It’s truly tragic, the helplessness of falling in love with a friend. I can’t help it. If I could I would because I’m perfectly okay with how things are. I don’t want things to change.’

“‘And yet it’s like I long for him with every fiber of my being. It’s somehow worse that we’re so close, like I’m constantly lying to myself. It hurts, in a way, to be this close and still unable to be with him how I want. But he means too much to me. I’d rather have him as I do now than lose him entirely.’”

It was probably about halfway through Charlie’s dramatic reading of your journal entry that Ted had mercy on you. You can deal with the humiliation and inevitability that every person in this room knows exactly who you’d written about later, for now you push yourself off the couch and storm over to Charlie, yanking your little black journal from his hands and snapping it shut. Your roommate still has humor in his expression; is he really unaware of anything he’d just read?

“You, my dear sweet Y/N, have a crush,” he says.

Obviously, he is not.

“Yeah, great job, Sherlock,” you bite out.

The embarrassment of feeling everyone’s eyes on you only adds fuel to the fire burning angrily in your chest, squeezing tighter and tighter together as the backs of your eyes sting.

“Who’s the lucky guy to have finally captured your heart?” Charlie asks with a teasing smile.

“It’s no one.”

“Oh, come on-“

“It’s nothing.”

“Y/N, come on.”

“No.”

“Who is it?”

“Stop.”

Charlie playfully punches your arm, “Who is it? You can tell me.”

You fall silent. Any anger you had has fizzled out extraordinarily fast, leaving you with an empty, throbbing ache in your chest. You stare at Charlie as tears creep along your waterline, daring to fall as the sinking realization hits you: there’s no way out of this.

There is no clever bit or joke to save you from your guts being spilled on the floor in front of Charlie, who had just unknowingly dragged a knife across your abdomen. Your hands cover the wound but blood seeps between your fingers. There’s no stopping it.

You stare at Charlie, silently begging him to at least stop talking. Your face is hot with embarrassment; Charlie has made it perfectly clear how there is absolutely no chance of him ever seeing you as you see him. Even after reading your innermost thoughts aloud, it’s still so far off the table for him to be interested in you that he can’t even put it together for several long moments.

When he finally gets it, Charlie’s expression changes. His teasing and his humor is gone, replaced with surprise and regret. You can tell just how hard it hits him: he should not have read that.

“Oh,” he says softly.

You look away.

It’s silent for way too long to be comfortable. Awkwardness permeates the air. You feel like crying. Not only did you just unwillingly confess to your best friend, but all of your friends were there to watch.

It’s Ted who speaks up first, “Alright, well, we should all leave immediately. Thanks for having us, you two.”

As quickly as possible, your friends flee your apartment, shoving feet into shoes, grabbing jackets, and leaving with hurried goodbyes. Soon the door has shut resolutely behind them and the apartment falls quiet. You and Charlie have yet to move.

Charlie takes a breath, preparing to speak but faltering before he makes a sound. He flounders with his mouth open for a moment then utters, “W-Why- why did you-...?”

“I can’t talk to anyone about it, so I write about it instead,” you say. “You weren’t supposed to read it.”

This was a secret you were supposed to take to the grave. Charlie was never supposed to know you’ve been in love with him since before you even met in person. He wasn’t supposed to know how not only have your feelings remained after all this time, but they’ve grown stronger. You don’t want him to know.

“I’m sorry,” is all Charlie can think to say.

“Little late for that, isn’t it?”

Maybe that was a little petty, but you think it’s deserving seeing as it is entirely his fault that any of this has happened.

When you finally look back at Charlie, the surprise and the regret is clear but there’s also an unsure awkwardness. You hate that the most. You two are comfortable with each other. You never feel awkward; you get along so well it’s weird and now he’s looking at you like he doesn’t even know you. You can’t stay here any longer.

“I’m making burritos later, if you want any,” you say, beginning your retreat into your bedroom.

“Y/N, wait,” Charlie says, “You can’t just drop a bomb like that and pretend nothing happened.”

“I didn’t!” you exclaim. “You dropped the bomb, Charlie! Not me. If it were up to me, you never would have found out.”

“So... what? You were just going to never tell me?”

“Yes!”

“How would that have worked out?”

“Judging on the last three years, pretty fine.”

“The last three...”

Charlie’s voice fails him, too shocked at the realization of how long you’ve kept this from him, of how well you’ve hidden it. As much as Charlie would love to let you hide in your room then pretend like none of this ever happened, he knows that’s not what needs to happen.

“Y/N, I don’t- I don’t see you like... that,” he says.

“I don’t need a rejection, Charlie,” you say. “There’s a reason I’ve never told you.”

Charlie again has no words. His feelings for you are clear: you have never been anything more than a great friend to him; you will never be more than a great friend to him. You know and have come to terms with that.

You start towards your bedroom again. This time, Charlie doesn’t try to stop you. He does call out to you one last time before you shut the door behind you.

“I am sorry.”

You’re stood over the threshold of your bedroom, looking back at your best friend. You hesitate in responding. Charlie expects a “me, too” or “I’m sorry, too” or something. Instead, you say,

“I know. And I wish I could be.”

You close your bedroom door, leaving Charlie still standing in the living room where he had been when he read your journal. Now, the room is vacated save for himself, hands empty and a feeling in his chest to match, wondering what your response could mean.

#not me starting ANOTHER series #dw tho this one actually has a planned ending ahaha #mcyt #mcyt x reader #dream smp #dsmp #minecraft youtubers #dream smp x reader #mcyt fanfic #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt imagine #slimecicle #charlie slimecicle #slimecicle x reader #slimecicle fanfic #slimecicle fanfiction #slimecicle imagine #charlie dalgleish #charlie slimecicle x reader

626 notes · View notes

hslotharrie · 4 years ago

Text

To My Best Friend

summary: reader faces quarantine at Harry’s and, turns out, it was exactly what they needed to come clean. also, Anne is the superior Mum.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: completely fluff. with marriage + mentions of family? not edited... when do I ever edit

based off of this ask<3

When you wake, the sun is shining through a slightly opened window in the far left corner of your bedroom. You can hear birds chirping amongst themselves from outside, cars driving far in the distance, it's quiet at Harry's home. Peaceful.

It's been a little more than four months since you and Harry decided to bubble at the beginning of quarantine. What you expected to be a few weeks turned into a lot more, but there were no complaints. Harry has the space, is the type to crave company, and you're his best friend.

Best friend.

You roll in the soft sheets, hugging the covers for a few minutes until you inevitably force yourself to get up for the day. You're not sure what sort of expensive luxury bed set this is, but god, they are comfy. You make a mental note to ask him later.

You zone out again on the soft sounds of the birds and the pleasant cool breeze flowing in through the window. You pull your phone from the bedside table to check the time, 10:56– and the weather, sunny and 78. You consider getting in the pool later.

Harry's phone rings somewhere outside of your room, followed by some muffled mumbling from the man himself signalling that he's awake too. You wonder if he's ate yet; he's a sucker for your omelettes and you're craving one about now.

You climb out of bed, going to the bathroom to tame your hair and brush your teeth, before heading to the kitchen to put together ingredients for the omelettes.

It's about 10 minutes before Harry appears in the kitchen, provoked by the smell. He places a hand on your lower back as a silent 'good morning!' while he stands to your side to admire your cooking. You try your best to ignore the warm feeling that his touch brings; the feeling that makes you wish for more than just a touch.

It makes you nervous, how quickly his presence has you feeling butterflies or how fast he can make you smile when you're in the darkest of moods. You've been sitting on the feelings for years, they were always there, hiding in the back of your head. The feelings that made you wish you'd shared that drink with him just for the second-hand contact to his lips.

Those are the thoughts that make you nervous. You try not to think about them when he's standing right next to you watching your every move with a wandering hand on the small of your back.

He's dressed in a colourful flannel and some shorts, you notice, much different than your fresh out of bed joggers and t-shirt. You make a mental note to change later, and you consider stealing one of his flannels (there's the thoughts again,) just to have his smell on you.

He pulls away from you to begin setting up the eating area, bringing out cups and silverware and then returning with a plate when he senses the omelette is nearly done. He stands to your left with the plate held in both hands like an excited toddler and when you flip the breakfast meal onto his plate he leans over and presses a quick kiss to your forehead in thanks. The thoughts come rushing back; I like when you kiss me, Harry.

"D'you have any plans for today?" he quizzes, before taking a drink of his orange juice.

"Was thinking about going in the pool later," you tell him, "it seemed nice out, an' I love your pool."

"I rather like my pool too," he chuckles "I'll join you, yeah? Could go for a swim later."

When you finish eating, Harry takes the plates to wash despite your protests. You cooked, he argues, so he cleans. You glance at the time, almost 12, and decide that the time it will take to change and freshen up will be enough for your stomach to settle and therefore a swim will be safe.

Returning upstairs, you first search for a bikini and then your sunglasses, changing and adding a pair of shorts. You brush your hair, throughly this time, and tie it up to avoid contact with the chlorinated water.

Before you go back downstairs, you take a minute to look at yourself in the mirror— doing your best not to allow the thoughts to come forward. (You don't think about how your body will look to Harry, and you definitely don't allow yourself to think about what he might think about the bikini you chose. Absolutely not.)

When you return downstairs to the kitchen, the dishes are washed and on the drying rack. Grabbing two cups and straws, you fill each about half with ice and then filtered water; and carry them both out to the poolside where Harry sits contently in the sun.

Unbeknownst to you, Harry's eyes travel along your body through his sunglasses when you appear from inside of the house, wishing he could touch you. His brain flicks back to the phone call he had this morning with his Mum, how she encouraged him to make a move because she knows you're meant to be. His stomach flips thinking about it.

"Do you remember when we went to that party and you pushed that guy into the pool because he was flirting with me?" you smile, sitting down beside him and handing him one of the cold waters.

"Mm, we had to leave because he was gonna' beat me up," Harry chuckles, "I was drunk. Probably lucky he ended up in the pool."

"You were being protective! It was cute!" you defend, rubbing his back lazily in comfort. He looks at you in a funny way, smile faltering a little before he returns his eyes back to the pool.

"M'gonna test the waters so the princess doesn't freeze," He proposes, rising from his seat when you give him a playful smack.

You rise as well, shimmying off your loose shorts and moving to sit at the side of the pool. Watching harry submerge himself first, you let your legs dangle off of the edge and into the water. It's cold, but a pleasant, enjoyable cold in the hot sun.

You sit contently for a few minutes, enjoying the water on your legs and watching harry swim back and forth. You lean back and turn your attention somewhere else, trying to avoid being caught staring. Suddenly, though, a hand brushes up the side of one of your submerged legs, informing you of Harry's presence.

"Y'coming in?" he asks, standing now. He's tall, so your faces are about level now.

"Are you in a hurry?" He's close enough now that he's dripping cold water on your skin.

"Maybe,"

Suddenly, he's gripping your waist to lift you and pull you into the water. You squeal, grabbing his shoulders as leverage as he practically drops you into the water that feels ice cold against your warm sunny skin. He laughs loud and happy when you splash water in his direction as payback.

Soon, both of your energies mellow out. Harry's on his phone, while you're floating around in a doughnut shaped floatie. Harry snaps a photo, but you don't notice.

When it's time to get out, Harry offers to go grab the towels while you float around for a few more minutes. He's driving you crazy in the best way. Your skin still tingles where he had touched your sides to lift you into the water, and your palms burn with the memory of his bare shoulders.

When he returns, it's like his energy has changed. The sight of a shirt over his chest makes you frown momentarily, and he's light on his feet rather than the happy strides he took on his way into his home. You see him tuck his phone into his pocket as if he's been talking to someone again, and when his eyes meet yours the wide smile is hiding something else.

When you slip out of the doughnut and climb up the pool ladder, he mumbles a soft "c'mere" and wraps the towel around your shoulders. His eyes watch you for a little longer than they should've.

"Mum called again," He murmurs.

"I's she doing well? Is that who called this morning?" you question, keeping your attention on his eyes.

"Yeah, woke you up I suppose,"

"Not at all!" You defend.

He goes quiet, picking at his fingernails (a nervous habit you notice he's developed since beginning to paint his nails) and looking off to the side to avoid holding eye contact with you. This makes you nervous, he's never this way around you.

"Harry,"

"I'm sorry, 'shouldn't be such a big deal," he says, letting out an awkward laugh.

A soft smile appears on your face, taking his hands into yours to part them. Gently, you move towards him, pressing yourself wordlessly into his body and allowing his hands to wrap around your towel-covered body. It brings him comfort, and you ignore your own heart beating at the contact.

"Better?"

"A little." He admits. He loves holding you, and sure, it helps his nerves, but he's going to tell you.

His Mum's been on him since he told her you'd be staying with him, telling him “now or never, Harry!”, and he's beginning to realize it really is now or never. He doesn't know how long quarantine will keep up or how much longer you will decide to stay, and he misses you even when you're just running something as simple as a grocery trip.

He doesn't know why he's scared, he knows a friendship as strong as yours could work through anything, Still, there's always the possibility that things could go bad. “Get out of your head!'”Anne would say.

This type of topic between the two of you is quite common, given Harry's music and your tendency to be quite open. However, this type of topic concerning the two of you is uncharted territory.

He thinks about the story you'd brought up earlier. When you'd both went to a party together and some guy, very obviously drunker than the both of you, tried to flirt his way into your pants before Harry had pushed him into the pool himself.

The truth is, he knew you would hold your ground if you weren't interested. Actually, Harry knows from first-hand experience that you don't need protection, you can be very vocal when you need to be, and he's even seen you deck someone at the bar a few years back for touching one of your friends. You were the protector.

That's why, upon seeing Harry at such a nervous loss of words, you had hugged him. It was your own way of protecting him.

"I wasn't trying t'protect you when I pushed that guy into the pool." He states, quiet and unsure.

You only hum in reply, allowing him to finish his sentence but letting him know you heard what he said.

" 'was jealous."

What?

"What?" you pull away from him only slightly, “why?"

"I didn't want stupid—" he pauses for the name "Josh, or whatever, t'be the one to take y'home."

You give him a confused look, now that you can see his face. Not putting two and two together.

"Josh is great! I love Josh—"

"More than me?" he murmurs, and it clicks.

Oh.

"Of course not... Harry," you hesitate, watching his eyes move between your own and his jaw clench.

Is this happening?

"I wanted," his shaky hand finds your arm, sliding down to take hold of your own, equally shaky left hand to toy with your fingers.

"I wanted t'take you home. Crawl into bed with you. Whatever else." he finishes. His stomach is in butterflies by now and he feels the tight, anxiety feeling in his lungs.

It catches him completely off guard when your lips are on his.

When you try to pull away, scared you've overstepped, his mouth only follows your own and his hand rises to your jaw to hold you steady. He feels a weight lifted from his shoulders, holding you, kissing you, like this. This is what he's needed.

When you finally do pull away, it's to go inside. Harry erupts in happy laughter when you make a beeline up the stairs. Nothing happens though, it's too soon and Harry agrees, but that doesn't stop you from curling into Harry's sheets, cuddling and kissing each other while watching one of your favourite films.

Catching up on missed time.

***

The wedding reception.

How did we end up here?

"Honestly," Harry speaks loudly to the crowd of your family and friends within the dinner hall "I have two people to thank for sealing the deal."

You smile wildly, knowing exactly which story he's about to bring up. Your eyes travel through the table groups you and Harry had spent so much time planning out. When your eyes catch with Mitch's he gives you a wink.

"Anne, my beautiful Mother, thank you for not letting me coward out of finally telling my girl how I felt," he pauses, you place a hand on his knee

"And Josh—"

You can't hold back the laugh, especially when the entire room turns to face the poor, completely unsuspecting victim. Josh, face red and confused smile on his lips.

"Years ago, when I pushed you into that pool at your birthday party because— you would've killed me if I didn't run! Because you were talking to her and I got jealous!" the room is erupting in laughter.

The room is full of the most important people in your's and Harry's lives. Still though, your happy eyes are glued to Harry, working the small crowd of people as per usual and telling a story about the time of and before quarantine; of when you'd basically moved in with him and never left.

Later, when you're wrapped in warm blankets and Harry's arms, you're reflecting on your day. The guests, who you'd talked to, what you'd heard.

"Wow. I'm married." he dumbfounds.

Wow is right.

"We're married." you restate for him, giving his hand a soft squeeze.

"Wow. I'm married to my best friend.”

Giggles boil over in the dark room. Harry is astonished suddenly, pupils blown, wide grin on his face. He presses quick kisses to the side of your face and you snuggle into his side more.

"I think we win, H."

#i feel like this was sorta rushed but hskdjsks it’s fine #can you tell i love the zane lowe interview #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #fineline #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles friends to lovers #harry styles marriage #request #not edited

518 notes · View notes

subspencer · 4 years ago

Note

giving chip a blowjob is something so personal to me!! he’s so used to just giving and not receiving (as we’ve seen too many times in the movie) so when you drop to your knees and start unbuckling his pants he’s just like “??? are you sure ??? you don’t have too!” and you have to tell him that sex is supposed to be both parties receiving pleasure, and you’re glad to help him!! i feel like he would still be kind of :/ because he doesn’t feel like he deserves things like that. anyways i just want to spend so much time showing chip that he deserves nice things and is just an amazing person 💗💗 I WANT TO MAKE HIM FEEL GOOD IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK

(🫐 anon)

sorry this was meant to be horny & i made it a bit sad. it’s still horny tho. settle in this is a long one.

chip taylor always looks sad. he’s smiles a whole lot, but he always looks sad. it’s behind his eyes, and he can’t possibly smile hard enough to cover that up.

he tries to though, and you notice it every time. and it’s the most obvious whenever his girlfriend comes to the bar to pick chip up from work. she always parks her car right out front and lets the roar of its engine be what notifies him it’s time to leave, and the only time you’ve seen her face is when she came in to berate him for taking too long. she rarely likes to come inside, she thinks the kind of people who work in a dive bar like this are beneath her. it makes chip wonder what she must really think of him.

he goes every time he hears the engine, always waving the other bartenders goodbye with a big smile and sad eyes. you think you probably look the same as he does by now, smiling at him on the outside, but sad on the inside because you know how much he’s probably hurting. you look like that every time he leaves through those doors.

but one night you’re working the closing shift again, and you notice chip hasn’t left yet. his shift ended almost an hour ago yet he was still wiping down tables and stacking up barstools. there was no car outside.

you wanted to ask him why he’s here, but you don’t want him to think it’s a cue to leave. so you worked with him in silence, wondering how long you’d get to keep chip before he was taken away by someone else. but inevitably he ran out of tables to clear, and you thought it would be the end of that.

only, he didn’t leave. he came behind the bar and started cleaning the glassware under the counter. and as much as you’d like for him linger around you all the time, it became a cause for concern.

“chip? are you okay?” you whispered it like it was a forbidden question. it wasn’t one he heard a lot.

“why wouldn’t i be?” and there was that cover-up smile again.

“chip, you should’ve gone home by now... is everything okay?” one of your hands came to arm, wrapping softly around it just above his elbow to serve as a security blanket.

“i- uh. i don’t wanna go home. my girlfriend — well, my ex-girlfriend, is there. moving all her stuff out and... i don’t wanna get caught in that cross-fire.”

“you broke up with her?”

he cleared his throat and nodded.

“good.”

“good?”

“she was mean to you. you don’t deserve that.”

you removed your hand from his arm, but he catches you by the wrist.

“thanks, for saying that.” his hand eases its grip, just enough so your hand falls an inch or two and makes your fingers tangle with his.

but something about his face still doesn’t look like he’s convinced, and so you can’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around his shoulders and squeezing him in a tight hug.

“chip, i mean it. you deserve...you deserve every good thing in this world.” you let yourself linger for a moment longer, burying your head into his neck and taking a deep inhale of his warm vanilla scent. when you finally came face-to-face with him, you wondered if his lips would taste as sweet as he smelled.

he didn’t make you wonder for too long. he pressed his plush lips against yours, softly at first, then capturing your bottom lip between his own and holding it just for a second before releasing.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to take advantage— you were being nice—”

you silenced his apologies with your mouth covering his own, not exercising quite the same restraint as he had in your first kiss. your tongue swiped across his bottom lip, willing his mouth to part just slightly to allow you access inside. still, you made it a point to be slow, rolling your tongue lazily against his, to let him know this was meant to be tender and loving declaration as opposed to just lust. it was necessary to make that clear before your next actions.

“i’d like to be a whole lot nicer.” you got the sense it’d probably been a long time since someone treated him well. you ran your hands off his shoulders and down his chest, rubbing on the sides of his ribs in comfort and stopping low on his belly.

he looked at you through half-lidded eyes as you laced your fingers through his belt loops, giving them a little tug as a hint before guiding his back against the high bar countertop. one of your palms smoothed over the front of his jeans, hovering over his bulge.

“y-you don’t have to.” he kept his voice as even as possible, but his hips were giving him away by grinding into your touch.

“i want to. is that okay?”

he nodded. “please.”

your hands made quick work of his belt buckle, tugging the front of his jeans open to allow some relief as you sank onto your knees. you pressed a quick kiss on the outline of his shaft through his boxers, glancing up to see his reaction and finding chip's eyes already closed and his head thrown back.

a smile overtook your face before you pulled down the waistband of his boxers, cupping him at the base while dragging your tongue across his bare length. the soft whine turned into a moan in chip's throat as you wrapped your lips around him and took him in, using your palm to cover what you couldn't fit.

his fingers gripped the edge of the countertop, and you realized he'd probably never been allowed to be the one in control before, so you brought one of hands down to your head, weaving it into your hair.

"a-are you sure?"

you hummed around him and his eyes rolled back as he guided your head gently down on his cock. every contented moan you made only encouraged him more, pushing into you deeper, touching the back of your throat as the sounds vibrated against him.

his breathing picked up pace, taking deep, heavy pants.

"im-im gonna cum" he gave you a warning and tried to pull away, but you held his hips tightly in place, taking him all the way in as he spilled himself down your throat, crying out your name as he did.

once his breath settled you pressed a warm kiss against his lower belly, helping him into his clothes as you stood up, guided by his hands cupping your face. he littered little kisses across your forehead and on the tip of your nose before meeting you at your lips.

you pulled back momentarily just for a look at his gorgeous face with a wide smile plastered across it. this time it reached his eyes.

#chip taylor #chip taylor smut #spencer reid smut #🫐#blurb #chip

521 notes · View notes

just-come-baek · 4 years ago

Text

body rhythm

Pairing: Taeyong x reader | mentions of Seulgi x Irene | mentions of Johnny x almost everybody

Themes: smut | fluff | dance!au

Word count: 14.8k

Summary: Taeyong and Seulgi participate in a nationwide dance competition. However, due to unfortunate scheduling, she has to drop out of it, suggesting you, out of all people, fill in. Taeyong isn't pleased with how things manage to fall out of place, but he is in no position to be whiny about it. For him, it's either learn to work with you or lose yet another time to his arch-enemy.

A/N it's my entry for song association event, I hope you like it, and also don't forget to check out other entries ^^ they must be all out by now lol

“Are you ready?” Johnny inquired as he set his fourth coffee of the day on his desk and plopped onto the swivel chair in a cubicle next to mine. It was a really long day at work, and we both had trouble sitting through the end of it. Heaving a deep sigh, I looked at the pile of documents that required my attention, groaning before I sprawled across my workspace.

“I thought it’s canceled tonight,” I spoke as I looked at my wristwatch, wincing when I realized there was still one more hour until Johnny and I could finally clock out.

A few months ago, our lovely firm, instead of giving us a well-deserved raise, had decided to provide us with a variety of extra activities. Though I’d rather get some monetary benefits, together with Johnny, we chose dance classes. Our company was paying for it, so we might’ve as well attended.

Ever since then, every Thursday, we would go to a dance class to sweat out all of the pent-up frustration. I didn’t have plenty of expectations, still bitter after the company’s decision, but the dance class turned out amazing. Seulgi was our teacher, and although she was a bit demanding, she was patient enough to teach us some sick moves. If that didn’t scream talent™, I had no idea what did.

“Well… last week, she said she might be absent today, but I got a text from school that someone will fill in,” Johnny spoke matter-of-factly. I sighed, checking my phone, reading the same text message from the studio. I really didn’t have energy for dance classes, but there was no way Johnny would let me skip.

“Do you want to grab a drink after? I think I need one, or a few,” I proposed as I sat back in my chair, trying to let my eyes rest from the computer’s screen.

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Johnny asked rhetorically, smiling at me as if I just read his mind. It was almost Friday at this point, and we deserved a little treat.

Though it felt like an eternity, the clock finally struck 5 p.m., letting us leave our claustrophobic cubicles. Tomorrow we would come back for another dose of torture, but right now, we were free. Only for a few hours, though.

Quickly, I returned home to get my gym bag. Thankfully, I lived within walking distance from both – my office and the dance studio, so it wasn’t as troublesome to commute as it was for Johnny, who got stuck in traffic almost every day.

A few minutes before the dance class, I was already changed into my gym attire, waiting for Johnny. Though no one was texting me, I stared at my phone, furiously typing away. Moon Taeil, also known as my secret crush, was leaning against the wall on the other side of the corridor, and I tried every single trick my mind could come up with not to look desperate.

“At this point, he must think you hate him,” Johnny commented as he conjured in front of me out of nowhere. “You should hit on him instead of trying to bolt every time he approaches you,” he added, and I rolled my eyes at his yet another one shitty advice.

“Can you remind me why I don’t take dating advice from you?”

“Why are you attacking me? I just wanted to help. There’s no need to get so aggressive,” Johnny defended his case, not really answering my question. Johnny was a self-proclaimed love expert, but to me, he was more of a pathological playboy. Either way, he seemed to understand the secrets of flirtation to pick up girls whenever he set his mind to it.

“I am just trying not to be obvious,” I commented, stealing a glance at Taeil. It was a silly crush, and though Johnny encouraged me to go for it, I never decided to act on my feelings. Taeil probably didn’t feel this way about me, so remaining idle actually saved me embarrassment after an inevitable rejection.

“Speaking of which, I figured out why Seulgi is so resistant to my charms,” Johnny announced proudly, and I raised my eyebrow, waiting for the big reveal. Everybody in our group knew that Johnny was attracted to Seulgi, but every time he tried to approach her, she would brush him off.

“By figured out, you mean you stalked her, right?” I commented when Johnny handed me his phone, showing me Seulgi’s profile. According to what Johnny dug out in social media, Seulgi was getting married to Irene – her girlfriend of five years. “Huh,” I mused as I gave him back his phone, trying not to laugh at him. Seulgi was already madly in love with someone else, no wonder she could resist his charm.

“Call it whatever you want,” Johnny started, putting his phone away. “Just don’t hold me down when FBI finally recruits me for my impeccable detective skills,” he argued, and I laughed as I imagined him leaving our lovely company. That would be a shame; I couldn’t imagine anyone else sitting in the cubicle next to mine.

“The room should be open,” someone hollered, mentioning for us to open the doors and get inside. I had seen him a few times around the school, so I deduced he must’ve been our substitute teacher today.

Once everybody took their spot on the dance floor, the man cleared his throat. “Hello everybody, my name is Taeyong. Together with Seulgi, we run this school, and I hope we will have a lot of fun today with new choreography,” he announced politely with a practiced professionalism. Perhaps Taeyong didn’t seem as cool as Seulgi, but we had to give him a chance to prove us wrong.

Taeyong was intimidating. I wouldn’t want to be left alone with him. When he showed us a few moves, he was immensely focused on delivering one hundred percent. It was impressive and admirable, but at the same, Taeyong gave off a scary fierce aura. Though he was a great dancer and teacher, Seulgi was just better.

“I think I have a heart attack,” I panted, gasping for air. The new choreography required lots of jumping, and I didn’t expect so much cardio today. I wasn’t out of shape; however, after dancing to Taeyong’s choreography, I had some doubts.

“We should’ve skipped,” Johnny commented, bending over with his palms on his knees, supporting his huge body. Taeyong’s dance routine was too much for us, and we weren’t the only people struggling to breathe. Thankfully, next week Seulgi would be back.

***

“You’re not gonna believe this,” Johnny announced, craning his neck to look inside my cubicle. Heaving a sigh, I put my pen down, giving him my full attention.

This better be good.

“What is it? Who are you stalking this time?” I inquired, giving him the attitude. Johnny was spending too much time on his phone during working hours, but I couldn’t really frown upon it because I often caught myself doing the same thing.

“First of all, I thought we agreed to call it researching, not stalking,” Johnny clarified, and I rolled my eyes. “And second of all, it’s Seulgi. She and the other guy from the dance studio qualified for some dance competition. Check this out,” Johnny explained, handing me his phone.

Seulgi and Taeyong rocked the stage. Though I had nothing to compare their performance to, they just oozed charisma, uniqueness, nerve, and talent. Without any shred of doubt, they would make it to the grand finale.

“Wow,” I mused, not sure how to appropriately respond. I was happy for their success; after all, their performance was broadcasted during prime time on national television. At this point, Seulgi and Taeyong were celebrities.

“I can’t wait for today’s class,” Johnny added in excitement, hiding his phone away inside the pocket of his jacket. “I have to congratulate her.”

“Them. You have to congratulate them,” I corrected Johnny as he seemed to forget about Seulgi’s dance partner. It wasn’t a solo competition, so both Seulgi and Taeyong deserved praise. “And as if you’ve forgotten, Seulgi is not and will never be interested in you. You gotta let this one go, man,” I added, hoping Johnny would stop his relentless flirting with Seulgi. Though it was funny at the beginning, it was evident Seulgi would appreciate it if he stopped.

“I am all over her. Trust me,” Johnny reassured me, and I let out a shallow sigh, wanting to believe him. “Do you know Wendy from the HR department? I think I’m gonna ask her out. I am all over Seulgi,” he added, and it actually convinced me. Although Johnny didn’t seek anything serious at this point in his life, and when something didn’t go according to his plan, he would shake it off and forget all about it.

“Ok, I believe you,” I said, giving him a genuine smile. “Oh, and I was thinking… how about some beer and chicken after dance classes today? I’ve been craving them the whole day,” I offered, and Johnny enthusiastically nodded. It did sound like a solid plan.

Thankfully, this week Seulgi was back, and everybody appreciated it. Taeyong was a great teacher, but we were a group of beginners, and it was difficult for us to follow his routine. We just weren’t ready for such complex choreography.

Everybody had so much fun today. At first, we practiced some old routines, working on synchronization. Later on, Seulgi taught us a few new moves, which I recognized from her television performance. Admittedly, they weren’t as difficult as they looked. Maybe it was a little bold of me, but I was thinking I was doing a pretty good job today.

At the very end of the class, Johnny delivered a dramatic congratulatory speech, making people laugh out of utter cringe. It was a nice gesture, and Seulgi’s embarrassment was adorable. She would cover her blushed cheeks and turn around, hoping the ground could swallow her up. In all honesty, it seemed to be the only way to shut up Johnny.

Just when we were about to be dismissed, I heard someone calling my name. Surprisingly, it was Seulgi. She must’ve wanted to discuss something with me. Damn it, was she going to scold me for not improving? Or was it because I sat half of the song out? I just needed a short break; I had no idea it would get me in trouble.

“I am sorry,” I apologized even though I wasn’t sure what for yet. Seulgi would enlighten me in a second, so I cleared my throat to apologize to her once again. However, when she giggled instead of yelling at me, I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

“I’ll wait for you outside,” Johnny hollered before he strolled out of the practice room.

“Am I in trouble?” I asked, and Seulgi smiled, shaking her head.

Great, it was a relief.

“Actually, I may sound crazy to you,” she started, fidgeting a little. It was strange, Seulgi was a strong and confident woman, but right now, she seemed rather bashful. “Would you like to participate in a dance competition?”

Her question took me aback.

“What?” I asked, trying to wrap my head around the topic.

“Let me explain,” she offered, and I reluctantly nodded.

By the look on her face, I could tell it wasn’t going to be a quick chit-chat. Seulgi had a lot of things to explain, so we decided to sit on the floor before she began her speech.

Patiently, I listened to everything she wanted to tell me.

Seulgi and Taeyong wanted to participate in a dance competition ever since they had decided to open up a dance school together. Last week they really thought they were going to achieve their dream. Unfortunately, as soon as they qualified and received the schedule, complications started to follow.

Maybe it was a little bit overconfident of them to think they’d make it to the finals, but it still made them anxious. Regardless of their talent, they wouldn’t be able to perform in the grand finale. Apparently, on the very same day, Seulgi was getting married.

At first, I wanted to interject that they could reschedule, but Seulgi beat me to it.

“It would be the third time we reschedule it, and I just can’t let that happen. I don’t want Irene to think I prioritize dancing over her. She means the world to me, and I’d quit a thousand times to get married to her,” Seulgi confessed, and I tried my best to contain my feels. There was something raw and pure about Seulgi’s love, and it moved me.

Seulgi’s proposition was genius in its simplicity. Together with Taeyong, she would perform, climbing up the rankings. And if by any chance, they would make it to the final round; she wanted me to fill in. Given I had been dancing at their studio for about four months I couldn’t comprehend why she chose me.

I was a rookie, for crying out loud!

Finding a substitute dancer made a lot of sense, actually. Instead of dropping out, they could find a replacement. This way, Taeyong could still make his dream come true. And next year, together with Seulgi, they could try to defend the title.

However, once again, Seulgi read my mind and answered my question before I voiced my doubts. She must’ve really thought this through before approaching me. It seemed she had rehearsed all possible inquires and came up with perfect answers.

“All of our dancer friends either compete against us or failed during qualifications,” she declared, and I hummed in response. “Unfortunately, people who already attempted joining can’t fill in for other dancers.”

“That sucks,” I commented, and Seulgi dryly chuckled.

“I think you would be a perfect fit,” she started, and I held my breath, wanting to hear what made her think I’d be able to rise to the challenge. “Everybody can memorize moves, but you have a natural passion for dancing. I can see it in class. Maybe you can’t see it yet because dancing is a hobby to you more than anything else, but I can tell you have the it™ factor.”

I was speechless. Seulgi, the dance prodigy, was praising my dancing skills. I couldn’t believe my ears. What kind of self-indulgent dream was it? Why couldn’t I dream like a normal person? I had tendency to toot my own horn sometimes, but it was just too much.

“I bet with proper training, you and Taeyong could win.”

“Let me think about it, okay?”

“Sure, of course! No pressure!” Seulgi replied enthusiastically, giving me enough space to clear my mind and think about it.

“See you next week.” I waved at her, exiting the dance room. Absentmindedly, I changed out of the gym clothes and walked out of the building, almost walking past Johnny.

“Hey, what did Seulgi want?” Johnny asked, grabbing my wrist, pulling me out of trance.

“She wants me to dance in her place if she and Taeyong ever make it to the finals.”

“What?!”

***

At first, I was hesitant about this whole thing. I wasn’t a professional dancer, and I really didn’t want to contribute to them losing the competition. However, Seulgi really made a point that they would have to drop out anyway, so in some twisted way, my participation gave them a slimmer of hope for victory.

Once I explained everything to Johnny, he really insisted I should help them out, spitting nonsense about fame and recognition and how I couldn’t doubt myself and just go with the flow. Opportunities like this rarely occurred, and I ought to welcome them with excitement.

So I did.

Every Saturday and Sunday, I dropped by the dance studio for practice. Taeyong still intimidated me, but I could deal with it. Seulgi was always around me to nag him whenever he demanded too much from me. They balanced each other very well, and it was fun working with them. Even though each practice left me with sore muscled, I was still excited. It was tangible proof I was improving.

Seulgi and Taeyong smoothly went through the contest, winning each battle with ease, slowly climbing in the ranking. There was still plenty of work until the grand finale, but everything looked they were to make it to the very top.

Unfortunately, the closer to the D-day, the less time Seulgi had to help us during practice. With her wedding coming up, she had a lot of preparations to deal with. As a result, Taeyong and I had to practice the dance routine on our own.

“No, you’re doing it all wrong,” Taeyong yelled in irritation when for the nth time, I turned to my right instead of my left. “Do it again; five, six, seven, eight,” he added, playing the song from the very beginning.

To say I was frustrated was an understatement of the century. I was aware that Taeyong really wanted to win the competition, but he didn’t have to be a dick about it. With no Seulgi to supervise him, he was unbearable.

“I think I need a break,” I declared once I turned to the wrong side again before Taeyong managed to scold me for it. Even though he shouted something again, I ignored it. With a deep sigh, I walked over to my gym bag to get my water bottle.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Taeyong asked, staring down at me with his arms folded across his chest, his demeanor dominant. His eyes were drilling holes in my head, his jaw was tightened – it was evident I was driving him up the wall. It was just a matter of seconds before Taeyong would snap, lashing out at me.

“I am taking a break,” I answered quickly, ignoring his angry stare. I was at my limit. If Taeyong didn’t back off, it would be the end of the practice for today. One more mean word and I’d storm out of the studio. I was here voluntarily. I was doing him a favor, and I didn’t deserve this type of treatment.

“Is it a joke to you?” Taeyong carried on, and I rolled my eyes. Of course, it wasn’t a joke to me. But at the same time, I was sick and tired of his shenanigans. I wanted him to win, but not when my mental health was on the line. He was pissing me off, and I wouldn’t let him walk all over me. “I thought you decided to help us out, but you’re not trying at all.”

He did not just say that.

“What?” I rhetorically asked, standing up, poking his chest with my forefinger. “I am trying my best here. You’re the one who makes it impossible to have fun dancing. You’re making it a chore, sucking all the fun out it.”

“Then tell me what I should do for you to finally make some progress? We’ve been stuck at this part for two weeks, and you still haven’t learned how to turn right!”

“Then go ahead and find someone else who can put up with your shit. I’m out,” I spoke, bending down to pick up my stuff, ready to leave the studio. Unfortunately, before I managed to exit the practice room, the doors opened, and Seulgi walked in with a confused expression on her face.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” She asked in worry, trying to put two and two together. It wouldn’t be the first time Taeyong and I argued, but it seemed to be the most intense one so far. It didn’t sit right with her. “Please don’t tell me you fought again.”

Briefly, I summarized what happened, and Seulgi looked down at Taeyong disapprovingly. I was glad Seulgi took my side; after all, she knew Taeyong could be too demanding.

“I am a dancer, but why does it feel I am a couple counselor? You two really have to learn how to work together when I’m not around,” she scolded us, making her point. If this whole arrangement was to work out, we both needed to establish some ground rules and learn how to put our differences aside. “I have an idea.”

Oh, no.

There was something mischievous in her tone, and I didn’t particularly like it.

“Let’s finish for today,” she proposed, and I smiled, thinking it was a great idea. Taeyong and I needed some time to chill, and calling it a day seemed like an appropriate way to do it. “Let’s go out clubbing instead!” Seulgi added cheerfully, clapping her hands in excitement.

“What?” Taeyong and I asked in unison, a bit surprised by Seulgi’s statement.

“That’s my prescription for the two of you,” she started, and I rolled my eyes. Taeyong and I didn’t get along as well as she wished for us to, but it wasn’t that bad. We didn’t need to bond over a few drinks in a crowded club. We would do just fine if Taeyong learned to go easy on me. “I believe we all can benefit from clubbing.”

“How come?”

“First of all, it will remind Taeyong that dancing is about fun, not overworking oneself,” Seulgi spoke, and I hummed, agreeing with her. “Second of all, it’ll give you a chance to loosen up. Your moves are still a bit stiff during intimate parts of the choreography,” she added, and Taeyong nodded in agreement. “And I really need something to drink because wedding planning is stressful as fuck.”

Not even thirty minutes later, we were inside the club.

“It’s a very sensual song. And you two really have to work hard to convey emotions through your dance,” Seulgi started as she sipped her tropical cocktail. “You must feel comfortable around each other and just ooze longing and sexual attraction,” she added, and I almost choked on my drink.

Performing with Taeyong was going to be more difficult than I had anticipated. When Seulgi and Taeyong showed me the choreography, I was amazed. Absolutely blown away. The way their bodies moved in synchronization left me speechless, but at the same time, I was a little bit nervous because I didn’t see myself living up to their level.

I wouldn’t consider myself particularly sexy. It made me feel awkward when I thought how seductive the dance routine actually was. I wasn’t sure I could pull this off, but Taeyong still had a lot of time to teach me.

“Take her to the dance floor,” Seulgi elbowed Taeyong, almost spilling his drink. Unenthusiastically, Taeyong looked at me before standing up and extending his arm.

Drunken people were jumping around us to the rhythm, and I awkwardly swayed from side to side, staring at Taeyong. With godlike precision, he moved, getting lost in the music. One could tell straight away Taeyong was a professional dancer.

Upon noticing how stiff I was, Taeyong shook his head, yanking me against his lean body. “How about you take a five-minute break to get that stick out of your ass? You look like you have no joints,” he yelled into my ear, his breath tickling my sensitive skin.

“I’ve had too little alcohol,” I replied, but Taeyong wasn’t having it.

“When we perform on the stage, will you need alcohol to let loose too?” Taeyong challenged with a playful smirk, and I rolled my eyes, too prideful to admit he was right. I couldn’t participate in that competition drunk. We wouldn’t win if I wasn’t able to come out of my shell and show everybody I had a sensual bone in my body.

“No,” I yelled into Taeyong’s ear. “How do I let loose?” I asked, hoping to hear some words of wisdom from him.

“Mirror what I’m doing,” Taeyong guided, and I nodded, focused on my new task. I could do that. I had been mirroring Seulgi’s movements during our classes, and I was pretty good at doing it. I could copy Taeyong’s moves.

At first, Taeyong danced a few classic moves we usually did during our warm-up routine. It was easy, and I think I nailed it. Later, he wiggled his upper body, feeling the rhythm. With envy, I observed how his body executed every single move, owning it. I wish I was half as good as Taeyong. Next to him, I probably looked like a crippled kid.

Upon noticing my struggle, Taeyong began jumping around, throwing his hands in the air. He looked ridiculous, but I remained focused on my task, dancing as if I was his shadow. Our bizarre moves earned some attention from other people, but our eyes were trained on each other, slowly getting lost in our own bubble.

I was sober, and I was on my way to owning the dance floor. I couldn’t believe it was happening. Maybe Taeyong’s charisma overshadowed my poor attempts of showcasing mine; however, I was sure I made a big step in the right direction. Slowly, I was improving.

“How about we spice it up a little bit?” Taeyong shouted into my ear, and I cocked up my eyebrow, thinking what he meant by that. “Don’t be shy,” he added, yanking me against his body. Taeyong was so close I could feel his legs rub against mine. “Come on, sweetheart. Touch me, tease me, feel me up,” Taeyong snickered, getting on my nerves. Not only Taeyong was smug for no reason, but he also quoted the song, which I was slowly growing to hate.

Taeyong must’ve assumed I’d back out. Surely, he didn’t expect me to follow his instructions and actually run my hands across his chest, shoulders, and back while simultaneously swaying my hips, earning approving stares from impressed men on the dance floor. At first, he was surprised he talked me into it, but a second later, he smirked, resting his palms on my sides, slowly exploring the valley of my butt.

I had no idea I had it in me, but Taeyong helped me discover it. We were basically grinding against each other, and it somehow didn’t feel awkward at all. We were just two people having fun.

“I’m sorry I was so harsh on you,” Taeyong apologized, shouting in my ear. “I’m just stressful all the time, and I think I may sometimes take it out on you,” he added, and I looked at his face, which was dangerously close to mine.

“It’s understandable,” I replied as I wrapped my arms around Taeyong’s neck, finding it much more comfortable. Now with our bodies pressed together, it was easier to have a conversation. “I know how much you want to win this competition. I’ll try harder,” I promised, and Taeyong released a relieved chuckle.

Who would’ve thought an adult conversation would work better than shouting at each other?

“Thank you,” Taeyong spoke genuinely, and I pulled away, staring at his face. His eyes were trained on mine. No matter how many hours we had spent at the dance studio, his gaze still intimidated me sometimes.

“Ekhm, I need a break,” I said in a desperate need to break eye contact with him. The dance floor was crowded, and it was making me dizzy. I was getting dangerously hot, and it seemed like heaven to get back to our booth and finish our drinks.

“Of course, you need a break,” Taeyong teased, sending me a lopsided smirk. “It’s okay, though. We still have plenty of time to work on your stamina,” he added as he grabbed my hand, leading me out of the crowd. Carefully, we zigzagged around drunken people, trying to make it safely to Seulgi.

Unfortunately, by the bar counter, someone walked into Taeyong, almost knocking him down.

“I’m very sorry,” a man shouted, but I could sense the words weren’t genuine.

“Doyoung,” Taeyong spoke, gritting his teeth, staring at the other man. Taeyong’s grip tightened around my hand. I figured he didn’t particularly like Doyoung.

“Taeyong,” Doyoung sighed, checking Taeyong out from head to toe before his gaze shifted to me. There was something spiteful about his lingering eyes, but I couldn’t pinpoint it. For sure, there was some bad blood between two men, and I suddenly felt an urge to know more. Inquisitiveness got the best of me.

Taeyong and Doyoung kept glaring at each other almost as if it was a competition. The tension was so intense one could cut it with a knife. I cleared my throat in a poor attempt to break their stare contest, but they didn’t even acknowledge my presence.

“I saw your last performance,” Doyoung finally spoke, scoffing. “You’re getting out of it, and here I expected to kick your ass in the finale. I wouldn’t be surprised if you and your partner got eliminated next week.”

I thought I had seen Taeyong furious, but right now, I was proven wrong. The way he looked at me whenever I was a handful during our practice was nothing compared to the way he glared at Doyoung. Taeyong was scary, and I decided to not get on his wrong side ever again.

“I’d gladly kick your ass here, but I’d rather wait for the finale. You know what people say about prolonged gratification,” Taeyong talked back, and I gasped, trying to comprehend what I just heard. Taeyong was getting cocky, and it made me nervous. I was already stressed about the possibility of performing, and he just added more pressure on my shoulders.

“We’ll see about that,” Doyoung replied, focusing his scrutinizing gaze on me. “But I have to say I kinda look forward to seeing you cry again. The way I beat you the last time was spectacular.”

“Let’s go, Taeyong. Don’t waste your breath on him. He’s not worth it,” I exclaimed, pulling Taeyong’s hand, reminding him I was there the whole time. I couldn’t listen to Doyoung talk trash about Taeyong. If Taeyong wasn’t going to walk away by himself, I had to intervene and pull him aside. Doyoung was provoking him.

“And who is that?” Doyoung asked in a mocking tone, displeased by the way I looked at him. Though I didn’t know the back story, I took Taeyong’s side. At least, Taeyong didn’t try to humiliate his rival, while Doyoung had already tried a few tricks to tick Taeyong off.

“You’re right,” Taeyong said, looking at me. It was evident he was holding himself back, trying his best not to take the bait. “Let’s go,” he added, pulling me away from Doyoung.

“Who was that?” I asked as we approached our booth. Unfortunately, I didn’t get my response. Upon arrival, we noticed that Seulgi was sprawled on the table, giggling to herself.

“Is she always like this?” I inquired, concerned about how drunk Seulgi got in such a short amount of time. We were gone for thirty minutes tops, and she was barely conscious after drinking her and our drinks.

“Aww… there you are… my dear friends,” she cooed cutely, trying to attack Taeyong with cuddles. She was adorable, but it was kind of irresponsible to drink by herself when we were on the dance floor. Thankfully, nothing happened. We returned just in time to collect her and escort her home.

“I can’t believe my plan worked,” Seulgi grinned, pointing her finger at Taeyong. “You no longer have a stick up your ass,” she exclaimed at Taeyong, too drunk to realize she should be talking to me. “And look at you! You were having fun!” Seulgi yelled, extending her arms to hug me. “I am so proud of you!”

“I should take her home,” Taeyong reasoned, considering it the safest option. He could call an Uber for Seulgi or just phone her fiancée to pick her up but bringing her home himself seemed to be the most rational solution. “Will you be alright by yourself?” He inquired, and I nodded right away. It was sweet of him to look after me too. Thankfully, I barely touched my cocktail; I could get home safely on my own.

“Don’t worry about me,” I replied casually, sending him a reassuring smile. “Just make sure Seulgi makes it home safe,” I added, warming up at the way Taeyong hauled up Seulgi, carefully leading her out of the club. It made me wonder if Johnny did the same to me. Probably. He wouldn’t be that gentle, though. If anything, he’d throw me over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. Or just drag me out like a corpse.

“Give me a call once you get back home,” Taeyong demanded before we parted ways.

***

“You went clubbing without me?” Johnny dramatically asked after I told him everything that happened on the weekend. Despite my detailed narration, it seemed as if that was the only thing he caught on to. “How could you?”

“Relax, dude,” I rolled my eyes, shuffling around my desk, getting ready for work. It was Monday morning – it was about time we start our gossip routine.

“And I was wondering… would you mind helping me researching this shady dude? There’s some conflict between him and Taeyong. And I need to know what happened,” I started, wondering if Johnny would cooperate with me and put his stalking abilities to good use.

I was too embarrassed to ask Taeyong about Doyoung. Besides, I had a hunch he would either brush me off or scold me.

“Do you know anything about this dude besides his name?” Johnny pulled out his phone, no questions asked. “Please, don’t tell me that’s the only thing you know.”

“I mean… he’s probably a dancer,” I added with a sheepish smile, making Johnny heave a deep sigh. “He must be a big deal, though. Apparently, Taeyong lost a competition to him.”

“I’ll try to find some dirt, but it may be difficult given how little info you gave me,” Johnny declared as he began his thorough research.

It took Johnny five minutes to find the correct Doyoung. It was remarkable. If it wasn’t enough for the FBI to hire him, I’d gladly present them a recommendation letter. Quickly, I opened Doyoung’s profile on my phone, scrolling through his feed.

At first glance, Doyoung seemed to be a regular bratty internet star with an overgrown ego. His follower count was impressive. Studying his profile, I learned a lot about him. Unfortunately, it had no value. There was nothing specific about his conflict with Taeyong.

“How was your date with Wendy?” I asked Johnny as I gave up on my research. Whatever was the root of their bad blood would have to remain a mystery.

“It was fine,” Johnny started, but I could tell he wasn’t entirely honest. His disappointed tone betrayed him. “She left before the waiter brought the dessert. Apparently, she didn’t particularly like when I kept calling her Wanda.”

“Ouch.”

“No hard feelings, though,” Johnny shrugged it off, trying to focus on the positive aspect of their terrible date. “At least, I’ve had two slices of cheesecake. Besides, I’m kind of into Sooyoung from the creative team now. I think she is the one.”

“Every girl you’re into is the one,” I interjected, rolling my eyes, done with his antics.

“Oh, by the way, I’ve forgotten,” Johnny chimed in, staring at me in excitement. “Taeil asked me about you,” he revealed, and I almost spat out my morning coffee.

“What?”

“Are you still into him, though?” Johnny inquired, rubbing his temple in deep thought. “I haven’t heard you gush about him these days,” he pinpointed, and I wondered if my crush on Taeil was still as intense as it was a few months ago.

Taeil was insanely hot. I kept drooling whenever I saw him operate the printer. It was inappropriate to check him out whenever he bent down to change the ink, but I couldn’t help myself. Or whenever we met by the vending machine.

Good old times.

Right now, though, I rarely caught myself thinking about him. At first, I thought it was due to a hectic schedule. I was either at work or at the dance studio or getting shit-faced with Johnny on another wild adventure with him and his friends.

It was difficult to comprehend how easily my crush faded into thin air. Taeil was still sexy as fuck, but while I appreciate his looks, I wasn’t daydreaming how to get into his pants. At this point, I was just admiring his attributes in the most nonsexual way imaginable.

Apparently, the lack of response on my part was everything Johnny needed to confirm his suspicion.

“So what? Are you into Taeyong now?” Johnny asked boldly, and now, I actually choked on my coffee, thinking I heard him wrong. How did he jump to that conclusion?

“What?”

“Don’t get me wrong, but it kinda looks like you’re into him,” Johnny commented, playing with a pen. “You talk about him all the time with lots of passion. I think there’s something going on between you two. Is he single?”

“I talk about him all the time because I live to complain, and recently he’s the sole reason why I gotta vent,” I defended, but Johnny didn’t seem convinced. “And I don’t know if he’s single. I don’t really care,” quickly, I rejected all accusations, but in all honesty, his words got me wondering.

Was I attracted to Taeyong?

Surely, Taeyong was ridiculously attractive. He danced well, too. Unfortunately, we didn’t click much. There was passion between us, but it wasn’t romantically stemmed. We just kept annoying each other. I wouldn’t consider it sexual. We were just getting on each other’s nerves often, unable to properly solve our differences.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, honey,” Johnny teased, and I fought the urge to throw the stapler at him. “I bet fifty bucks you’ve imagined him naked, fucking you dumb.”

What the fuck, John???

I did not imagine Taeyong naked!

Not until now, at least.

“I seriously hate you right now,” I complained, deciding it’s about time I focus on work.

***

After Johnny had planted naughty thoughts in my mind, each dance practice was unbearable. My mind was running wild, coming up with different scenarios involving Taeyong and me in intimate situations. It was wrong on so many levels, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop.

After months of practicing the dance routine, we decided it would be best to make some changes to the choreography. Though it was still sensual as hell, with our hands roaming each other’s bodies, we found it crucial to accentuate Taeyong’s talents.

It was a strategic plan. While typically male dancers helped the female dancers shine, we put a little twist to it. Though our performance was still pretty balanced, Taeyong had a few crucial parts of choreography, in which he would snatch everybody’s hearts.

Seulgi didn’t object to our strategy. Well… she was never there, to begin with. Seulgi was a ghost, never present during our practice, always busy doing some last-minute wedding prep.

“Let’s take a five,” Taeyong hollered as he turned off the music, sending us off to a short break. It sounded weird when it came out of his mouth, but I didn’t complain. We’ve been practicing nonstop for the past hour. At this point, I was panting.

Lying down onto the floor, I rested my head on my towel, reaching for my phone. Quickly, I unlocked it to see a series of notifications from Johnny. He had sent me a link to a video, telling me in all caps to watch it.

Having left the earphones in the locker room, I played the video quietly through my phone’s speaker. It was a short film with Doyoung. It must’ve been his performance from last year’s competition. Jamming to the music, I studied his moves.

Doyoung was really good. I mean… it wasn’t professional expertise, but I could tell he had talent. His body control was impeccable, his hip thrusts must’ve impregnated plenty of women in the audience, but his shoulder rolls were just otherworldly. Along with the female dancer, they showcased quite the performance. From the beginning to the very end, I couldn’t look away, failing to notice Taeyong approach me.

“What the hell are you doing?” Taeyong shouted, tearing my phone from my hand, double-checking what I was watching. “Why are you watching this?” He angrily asked, locking the device, wishing for it to stop playing music.

It was difficult to explain.

I couldn’t exactly tell Taeyong that I asked my best friend to do research on Doyoung in hopes of finding out what was the root of their conflict. Though we had never found anything substantial, Johnny would send me more footage to check out. However, regardless of how much stuff Johnny had provided me with, I was still clueless.

“Why are you shouting at me?” I spoke, biting on my bottom lip. I was in big trouble, so it was only logical to play dumb.

Taeyong stared down at me, demanding a genuine answer. His jaw was tensed, his knuckles around my phone turned white. It was just a meaningless clip, but it got him fuming at me. Regardless of what I’d tell him, he wouldn’t like the answer. I figured this much.

“Why were you watching that?” Taeyong yelled, raising his hand, almost smashing my phone against the floor. Thankfully, he held back and gently put it on my bag.

It was incredible how much the video affected Taeyong. The movie worked on Taeyong like a red rag to a bull. One moment he seemed fine, but once he figured out what I was watching, he snapped.

“You really want to know?” I challenged as I rose to my feet, staring at him. It was my turn to raise my voice. If he kept shouting at me, I was going to give him the same treatment. “Ever since that night at the club, I was curious. You were basically throwing daggers at each other, and I really wanted to know what happened between you two. You never bothered to explain it, and I didn’t want to push you.”

“Do you have your answers now?” Taeyong exclaimed, and I rolled my eyes, agitating him even more with my fed-up behavior. He was scary right now, but I refused to let him intimidate me. “Or do you want to read my diary too?!”

I resisted the temptation of saying yes to his offering. Taeyong wasn’t the type of person to write a dairy. He was exaggerating, but I didn’t want to provoke him further. At any mention of Doyoung’s name, wrath took control over Taeyong, turning him into his destructive self.

“If it makes you feel any better, I know shit about him,” I confessed, throwing my hands in the air. “I wanted to know what he did to you, but I came up with nothing. And believe it or not, the way he treated you that night made me worry. You’re my dance partner, and I care about you a lot, and it really hurt me seeing you in distress,” I spat, not thinking about consequences. I was talking without filter, probably spilling too much information.

My verbal diarrhea confused Taeyong. His huge eyes were staring at me in astonishment. He was studying my expression, wondering if everything I said was true. Oh, no! My reckless words made him uncomfortable. He must’ve grown to hate now.

In embarrassment, I looked down at my shoes. I felt terrible, and I needed to come up with something clever to say to save my dignity and ease the tension. However, before I managed to voice my sincere apology, I felt Taeyong’s hands cup my cheeks as he surged forward and kissed my breath away. It was sudden, but I reciprocated the kiss in an instant.

Stress, anxiety, anger, sexual frustration, and probably many other factors led us to this very moment. I had been daydreaming about Taeyong’s mouth on mine for a while now. And when it finally happened, I eagerly swept my tongue across his lips, deepening the kiss. Though I had tried my best to withstand the tension between us, I wasn’t oblivious to it.

Taeyong already knew almost every inch of my body, so his hands naturally began roaming across my skin. Moaning into the kiss, he held me closer, keeping me pressed against him.

“Taeyong,” I breathed out as I pulled away, only for Taeyong to smash his lips against mine again, successfully shushing me. This time around, the kiss was even more passionate, making my knees weak. In a rush, Taeyong pushed me against the wall, pushing his thigh between my legs. “We shouldn’t,” I spoke, but my tone wasn’t convincing at all. I wasn’t even sure who I was trying to convince that it was a bad idea.

“Shut up,” Taeyong demanded as he tilted his face, sucking on my bottom lip. His hands were on my butt, kneading my flesh, trying to make me moan into his mouth. In all honesty, it worked. Maybe, I whimpered incoherent sounds, but it’s was just a poor attempt to encourage him to keep kissing me.

Regardless of how much he was to gift me, I needed more. I wasn’t going to stop until I’d take everything Taeyong was willing to give.

I craned my neck to the side, and Taeyong quickly caught on, leaving a wet trail down my neck. His lips were delicate, careful not to leave a mark, while his hips were grinding against me, letting me feel how stiff he already was.

“Legs,” Taeyong ordered, gently slapping my thigh. Obediently, I spread my legs apart, letting his hand cup my sex. It was ridiculous how horny he was making me. Once his raspy voice echoed in my ears, I fulfilled his wish, waiting for another command in excitement.

“Please,” I begged, needing more of him. Whatever he planned on doing to me, I needed it now. Whether he was to tease me with his beautiful fingers or fuck me raw with his cock, he better do it now.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he whispered against my skin, pressing feather-like kisses along my collarbone. His touch was driving me insane. His hands were everywhere but where I wanted them the most. This type of teasing should be illegal.

It was more than I could take, so I took matters into my own hands. I could play this game, too. With a mischievous smirk upon my face, I hooked my forefinger under the band of his tracksuit bottoms. Unfortunately, Taeyong quickly swept my hand away.

“You’re such a bad girl,” Taeyong commented before he captured my lips again, sliding his tongue into my mouth, knowing I’d talk back to him. “You have to do everything your way. Would it kill you if you listened to me at least once?” Taeyong muttered, staring into my eyes.

Yes, I was a brat. Taeyong wanted me to submit to him, and I would do it eventually, but not before I’d tease him first. What was fun in that?

“Don’t answer that,” he added, and I rolled my eyes. Though we barely hung out outside the dance studio, Taeyong learned a lot about me. Having an answer to everything was one of those things he had the pleasure of discovering.

“Just fuck me, please,” I said nicely, staring into his eyes, hoping it would be enough to make him cave. “I can’t take it any longer,” I added, rubbing my loins against his restrained cock, making him let out a guttural moan.

My plan was working. Slowly, Taeyong was giving in, probably taking his time to think about the consequences of letting me experience instant gratification. Orgasm would’ve been sweeter if he made me wait a bit more, but it was difficult for him to control his urges.

Without any doubt, Taeyong wanted to bury his cock inside of me as much as I wanted him to fuck me dumb. We withstood so many practices without jumping at each other – I should consider it foreplay.

“Fine, but I’m gonna eat you out first,” Taeyong spoke, and I almost lost it by just imagining his jaw going between my thighs. Swiftly, he knelt in front of me, pulling my leggings down to my ankles in one fluid motion. Having kicked off my gym shoes, I wiggled the fabric off my feet, sending it flying across the dance studio.

Taeyong ran his fingers across my panties, inspecting how soaked they already were. With a smirk upon Taeyong’s face, he pressed a chaste kiss against my skin above the waistband before he yanked the undergarment down.

“Beautiful,” he said under his breath before he surged his face, taking my clit between his gorgeous lips, making me tilt my head in pleasure. Frustration got me sensitive. Even the slightest touch got me purring in delight.

Taeyong licked and nipped at my entrance, and I run my hands through his hair, encouraging him to keep going. He flicked his tongue, and I buckled my hips, wanting more.

“I need your fingers,” I pleaded, looking down at him. Taeyong looked breathtaking, with my juices were dripping down his sharp jaw, with his lips turned into a satisfied smirk. He was proud of how he was making me feel. His glistening skin was the very evidence of his skillful moves. “Taeyong, please, I am so close.”

Though I didn’t expect him to, Taeyong listened to my humble request. His middle finger slid right it, making me purr in satisfaction. I could finally feel him inside of me, and it was heavenly. His palm moved quickly, working me up.

The first orgasm was building up. Taeyong was fucking me now with two fingers while his mouth was fiddling with my clit. If it wasn’t for Taeyong’s palm, holding me still, I’d buckle right into his face for more friction.

“I’m about to come,” I declared, shutting my eyes close. As tempting as it was to peek at the mirror on the other wall and check out the view of Taeyong eating me out, it was more than I could take. My instinct to squeeze my eyes shut and welcome the orgasm was too much.

Unfortunately, it didn’t happen.

Before tiny tingles of electricity could unite and explode, shooting through me like a lightning strike, Taeyong pulled away, denying me of my orgasm. It physically hurt when instead of a blissful peak, I felt nothing.

“What the fuck?” I barked angrily, ready to pull him by his hair against my sex and press him against me, so he could finish the job.

“We’re coming together, or we’re not coming at all,” Taeyong sternly replied, standing up. His lips were swollen from all the work he was doing, and they looked even more kissable.

“I’ve never pegged you for such a teaser,” I stated matter-of-factly, still a little bit butt-hurt over the way how smug he was about not letting me come first. Maybe I was a handful most of the time, but I didn’t do anything wrong to deserve such treatment.

“I’m not,” Taeyong chimed in, biting down on his lip. “There’s just something about you that makes me want to punish for your misbehavior,” he explained, and I got it where it came from. I wasn’t the best student he could work with. “Isn’t it the sweetest torture?” Taeyong challenged before he surged forward, smashing his lips against mine again, raising my thigh and giving it a gentle rub.

“Please, Taeyong, I need you inside of me,” I begged as I ground my sex against his rock-hard cock. I couldn’t comprehend how self-disciplined and patient he was; his budge was throbbing underneath his pants. It must’ve been painful for him, and he did all of that to teach me a lesson. “Fuck me, already.”

“Relax, sweetheart. I got you,” he softly spoke as he hoisted me up, pressing me tightly against the wall. “To be honest, I expected you to lose it sooner,” Taeyong added, and I hoped he was talking about my sanity. I endured more than enough; his teasing was too much.

“How should I fuck you?” Taeyong asked, looking around the practice room, seeking a perfect spot to stuff his cock inside of me. We didn’t have a lot of options, but I didn’t care. He could fuck me in the middle of the room, and I’d eagerly spread my legs for him. “Screw it,” he cursed, gently lowering me down onto the floor. “Do you mind?” Taeyong inquired, and I shook my head as I wrapped my legs around his hips, pressing him against me.

“Strip,” I ordered, and Taeyong smirked before he pulled his T-shirt over his head, revealing his lean physique. My eyes marveled at his beautiful shoulders and toned muscles. I had touched him more than I could count, but I never saw him bare, and when I finally did, I gawked.

“What about you, sweetheart? Come on, I am waiting,” Taeyong teased, and I took off my T-shirt. I was only in my sports bra, and Taeyong bit his lip, staring down at me, admiring my simple beauty. With no further comment, Taeyong leaned in, attacking my collarbone. It was hot how attentive he was, but right now, all I needed was his cock buried deep down my cunt.

Desperately, I reached to his sweatpants, palming his erection through the fabric. As soon as I touched him, Taeyong released a needy growl, rolling his hips into my hand, finally giving in to the pleasure. He lost his self-restraint, and now, he seriously needed to fill me up with his throbbing length.

“Take them off,” I breathed out, pulling by the hem of his pants. With a lowered head, Taeyong tsked before he yanked them down to his knees, wriggling out of them. Just as I expected, his cock urgently entailed my attention.

Though the thought of blowing him crossed my mind, I eventually decided not to entertain this idea too much. It was apparent Taeyong wanted to him inside of my pussy. I’d suck him dry on a different occasion. Hopefully, it would happen soon.

“Fuck me, Taeyong,” I moaned as I trembled when the tip of his cock brushed against my folds. I was embarrassingly sensitive after his ministrations, and he dared to tease me again. “Please,” I begged as I gave his length a few gentle strokes, aligning it with my entrance.

“Aaahh…” Taeyong growled, slowly pushing his dick inside of me. Inch by inch, he filled me up, stretching my walls. A lot of different sinful noises came out of his mouth as he began steadily thrusting his hips.

Taeyong’s stamina was no joke. It was hard to believe how long he could snap his hips without messing up his rhythm. His low voice mixed with my desperate moans echoed inside the room, creating a wicked symphony along with the sound of our sweaty bodies smashing against each other.

He was fucking me hard, and I was in seventh heaven. Taeyong was filling me up so good; I could come undone on his cock anytime.

“Taeyong,” I moaned his name as I watched him fuck me. Though it was hot to look at his cock disappear in my pussy, it was even sweeter to stare in the mirror. With my head turned to the side, I studied the whole picture how Taeyong was fucking me.

“I am coming,” I screamed as I felt the bliss approach. Taeyong was panting, struggling to maintain his tempo with the way my walls tightened around his sensitive cock. Once he hit my sweet spot, I was a goner. After a few thrusts, I came, digging my nails in his back.

“Fuck,” Taeyong cursed, shouting my name as he shot his load inside of me, collapsing on top of me. We were a breathless mess, our bodies sticking together, but neither of us minded. At this point, we were too spent to care. “You were incredible,” Taeyong whispered as he pulled out, rolling to the side.

“You weren’t that bad yourself,” I panted, giggling, still recovering from the mind-blowing orgasm. Thankfully, Taeyong didn’t pay much attention to my playful jab. “I meant it what I said,” I added, turning around to look at him.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” Taeyong started, staring into my eyes, showing me his sincerity. “I just can’t help myself but get angry when I see him or hear about him,” he continued, and I nodded my head, letting him know I was willing to listen.

I didn’t expect that Taeyong would agree to vent to me, but when he did, I patiently heard him out. After all, I was pretty sure we were at least friends now.

“It all happened about a year ago. We were competing in the same contest, and he made my dance partner quit. Doyoung seduced her, toyed with her, and once the trophy was his, he dumped her. Because of him, I was disqualified, and she quit dance altogether.”

Listen to his story made me both sad and angry. Doyoung had been a dick to interfere like that – he must’ve known he hadn’t stood a chance against them in a fair fight. My blood was boiling in my veins as I put all the pieces together.

Sadness took over next. The way Doyoung had manipulated Taeyong’s dance partner was upsetting. The wound had been cut so deep, she couldn’t have forced herself to keep going. Doyoung had wrecked two lives, and it made my blood boil, too.

“We’re gonna beat him. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure we do,” I spoke, reassuring him. It was impossible to tend the wounds, but the least I could do is help Taeyong win. For what he had done, Doyoung deserved punishment. If I were Taeyong, I’d not hesitate to beat him up.

“I hope so,” Taeyong muttered, reaching for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s still fine if we don’t. I’m pretty sure karma will get to him eventually,” he added with a sigh.

“I’ll work harder,” I declared, feeling an extra wave of determination wash through me. “I’ll try my best,” I said, and Taeyong smiled fondly, content to hear me say it.

“Thanks. It means a lot to me.”

For a while, we were staring at each other. It felt nice and somehow more intimate than all the fucking we had done. If we were in bed, I could do it all night. Unfortunately, we were still lying on the uncomfortable floor.

“Let’s get washed up before we get too sappy,” I added, trying to ease the tension. I really enjoyed it, but it was getting a little too much.

“I hope you don’t mind sharing the shower with me. You know… water bills are a bitch,” Taeyong spoke, and I giggled at his bullshit excuse, finding it incredibly cute, considering what we had been doing a few minutes ago.

“Of course they are,” I deadpanned, chuckling. Though his excuse was lame, I liked Taeyong enough to go with it. “Come on. Let’s go. I don’t want anyone to catch me naked.”

***

After that one time at the dance studio, Taeyong and I made it a regular thing. However, we kept it civilized. We wouldn’t jump each other’s bones in the open like animals like we had done the first time. Usually, we would go on small kind-of-dates, which consisted of picking up food, going to my or his place, and then rolling in the sheets.

We were having lots of fun. It was a perfect way to de-stress. After all, the finale was this Saturday, and we were nervous as hell. In all honesty, I was still scared, but these orgasms were numbing my anxiety.

“I think that’s it,” Taeyong spoke, and I smiled brightly, unable to contain my joy. It was the first time Taeyong ever approved of our performance. Most of the time, he was nitpicking, complaining about the slightest mistake, but finally, he was satisfied with it.

I was ecstatic; I never expected to live up to Taeyong’s approval. Through hard work and persistence, I managed to earn his eulogy.

“What should we do now? How about we order some food?” I asked, feeling in a celebratory mood. Maybe it was a little bit too early to drink to this small success, but it’s still worth a shot.

“We should do it again. We should dance it flawlessly at least a couple of hundred consecutive times before celebrating,” Taeyong seriously replied, and I rolled my eyes. Despite his painstaking nature, a couple of hundred times, it was a bit too much. Even for him. “Don’t give me that look. Let’s start again; five, six, seven, eight.”

Though usually, I’d complain and try to force him into a five-minute break, right now, I was oddly energized. We were dancing for the past two hours, and I was panting out of exhaustion. Nevertheless, the thoughts of finally mastering the choreography kept me going.

“I’m pretty good at this,” I confidently commented while roaming my hands across Taeyong’s shoulders before he twirled me around to the rhythm. I could tell that Taeyong was just waiting for an excuse to pause the music and scold me for making a mistake. However, much to his dismay, I executed every move impeccably. “I had a pretty good teacher,” I added, stroking his ego. The D-day was approaching, and Taeyong obviously needed an extra boost of confidence.

“I must admit you were a piece of work. I have no idea what kind of sorcery is this,” Taeyong teased, staring into my eyes. We had practiced the routine plenty of times; we could probably perform it in blindfolds and not make a single mistake. “I must be a magician or something.”

“Don’t push it,” I warned him in a very non-threatening tone, making him smirk. “But it’s only partially your success. Seulgi told me I have the it™ factor,” I proudly said, cracking Taeyong up, messing the choreography. “Is it a student-has-become-the-master kind of moment?” I asked, laughing at Taeyong. For the dance prodigy, he was getting distracted way too easily. It was suspicious.

With a broad smile upon his face, Taeyong grabbed my wrists, making me look at him.

“How about we finish up for today? I have a surprise for you,” Taeyong said, and I cocked my eyebrows, biting my bottom lip. “Not that kind of surprise,” he added, rolling his eyes at me. “We might get it on later, though.”

“What kind of surprise then?”

“Wait a second,” Taeyong spoke, quickly jogging out of the practice room. In a minute, he was back with a garment bag in his hands. “Here, that’s for you. Seulgi came in the morning to drop it off for you,” he explained, and I pulled down the zipper. It was going to be my costume for the contest, and I was curious how it looked.

I was speechless. At first, I thought it was a joke. I wouldn’t be able to perform in that. However, the more I looked at it, the more sense it made. It was a simple white suit shirt, but when mixed with a leather body harness, high-waisted shorts, and boots, it fitted the concept beautifully.

“Do you like it? I thought it was too revealing, but Seulgi insisted you would look amazing in it. I mean… it fits the mood, but if you’re not comfortable with it, we still have some time to find something else,” Taeyong blabbered, and my heart swelled. It was very sweet of him to consider my comfort above anything else.

“It’s skimpy, but it’s fine. I like it,” I replied, having no idea where my confidence was coming from. A few months ago, I’d be anxious to even try it on in the confines of my bedroom. However, now I was planning on showing a lot of skin on national television during prime hours on the weekend. I must’ve gone insane.

“Do you want to try it on?” Taeyong challenged, pulling the hangers out of the bag.

“You mean… here?!”

“Come on, it wouldn’t be the first time you took off your clothes in the middle of the practice room,” Taeyong concluded, smiling at me mischievously.

“Pass,” I firmly rejected his dare, even though it felt tempting. “It’s not fun when I’m doing it alone,” I added, and Taeyong grabbed the hem of his T-shirt, more than ready to discard his clothes in a blink of an eye. “Don’t fool around,” I warned him, placing my hand over his before he managed to take his T-shirt off.

“You’re right. Let’s go to my place first,” Taeyong agreed, zipping the bag before he grabbed my hand, leading me out of the practice room.

***

On the day of the performance, I woke up with a terrible stomach ache. No matter how much fantastic sex Taeyong and I had, I was not mentally prepared to perform in front of the whole nation. I felt sick, almost as if my body was telling me to quit before I’d embarrass myself on national television. Stress was eating me from the inside.

“What are you doing up so early? Let’s go back to bed,” Taeyong purred in his raspy morning voice as he sneaked his arm around my waist, pulling me against him. “You need to be rested before the performance. Trust me, you don’t want a camera to catch you yawning,” he added, nuzzling his nose in the crook of my neck, breathing hot air against my skin.

“Thanks for giving me one more thing to stress about,” I deadpanned, heaving a deep sigh, staring at the ceiling. It was a mistake. I should have never agreed to Seulgi’s proposition in the first place. What the hell was I thinking? “I think it’s a bad idea. We should quit.”

Taeyong wasn’t in the mood for my nagging so early in the morning; he was having none of it. “You’re being ridiculous. We’ve practiced so much. We’re gonna win it with ease,” he declared, pressing a featherlike kiss against my jaw. “But for real,” he added, climbing on top of me, trapping me between his thighs, “we’re going to win. And even if we don’t, it’s fine. Really, if somehow we lose to Doyoung and his partner, I’ll just punch him backstage.”

“How can you say that?” I said with a sigh, running my hands across his thighs, finding it rather calming. “I know you said we should rest, but how about…” I trailed, and Taeyong smiled before eagerly capturing my lips, reading me like an open book.

“Say no more,” Taeyong whispered before his hands traveled under my shirt.

Unfortunately, Taeyong’s phone started buzzing on the nightstand before he managed to pull my panties down. With a groan, he extended his arm, staring at the screen.

“It’s Seulgi.”

“What are you waiting for? It’s her wedding day. Pick it up,” I yelled at him as I fell on the pillow, admiring his handsome face when he was talking to Seulgi.

“Please, not you, too,” he barked, rubbing his face in annoyance. Though I barely could make out what she was saying, I figured this much Seulgi and I were suffering from the same stress-fuelled illness. It was her wedding day, after all. Even if it was obvious she loved Irene with a burning passion, she wasn’t immune to pre-wedding anxiety.

Seulgi was talking her stress away, and Taeyong just hummed and nodded his head, registering her words. For some reason, the pressure didn’t seem to bother Taeyong at all. It was weird, but at least he was the voice of reason, which could help me and Seulgi cope.

“Breath in, breath out,” Taeyong spoke when Seulgi made a pause long enough for him to interject. “I know it’s a big deal, but there’s nothing to worry about. You’re getting married to Irene. You love her so much,” Taeyong reminded her, winking at me, expecting Seulgi to end the call soon. “Everybody’s a little nervous; it’s completely normal.”

It was beautiful how close Taeyong and Seulgi were. They had each other’s backs in all types of situations.

About ten minutes later, Seulgi finally calmed down. Taeyong’s reassuring words swept the anxiety away, and she was more than ready to get married to the love of her life.

Once Seulgi hung up, Taeyong threw his phone on the bed and secured my legs around his hips before he leaned forward, giving me a quick kiss. “Seulgi says hi, by the way,” he added, sneaking his hand under the hem of my panties.

“What?”

“What do you mean what?” Taeyong looked down at me, creasing his eyebrows in confusion.

“She knows?” I yelled, unable to comprehend how, on Earth, Seulgi figured out I was in Taeyong’s bed. She couldn’t know. She wasn’t even there when our romance bloomed. “How?”

“Yeah, is it a bad thing, though? You didn’t want to fuck me in secret, did you?” Taeyong challenged, not really answering my inquiry. Did Seulgi figure it out on her own? Or did Taeyong told her about us? And, the biggest question mark was: what were we to begin with? “Seulgi must have some sort of sixth sense. She was bothering me about the sexual tension between us since day one of your training.”

“I wouldn’t call it sexual tension per se, but there was something going on,” I replied, reminiscing how rocky our beginning was. “But I think we were interrupted…” I reminded him, and Taeyong with a playful smirk on his face dived right between my thighs.

***

The streaming should begin at 8 p.m., but we had to arrive before 5 p.m., so the make-up artists and stylists could prepare us for the performance. Sitting in that chair and waiting for all pampering to be over with was stressful as fuck. I tried to preoccupy myself with an idea of Taeyong, but whenever someone threw a question in my direction, I was being pulled out of my train of happy thoughts.

I wanted to get on the stage and be done with it. Unfortunately, whoever funded that contest didn’t think of the mental health of its participants when making today’s schedule.

Punctually, the show began its transmission at 8 o’clock. However, at the very beginning, the MC had to introduce all sponsors. Going through them took him about twenty minutes. Then, they interviewed some of the eliminated dancers, asking them questions either about their experience in the competition or simply who they thought would win.

Later, they decided to rewind the contestants’ moments in the show. At first, they showed Doyoung and his partner, and a few experts analyzed their performance, wondering what the odds of them winning were.

When the host announced the rewind of Taeyong’s and Seulgi’s stages, the jury only talked about the sudden switch up, confirming it was the first time it ever happened in the grand finale. It startled a lot of people why would Seulgi drop out, but Taeyong explained it in a brief interview.

“It was a crazy coincidence, but Seulgi couldn’t participate today because she is getting married today,” Taeyong revealed, and the audience cooed loudly, obviously supporting her choice. “I was stressed at first, but Seulgi found an amazing dancer to take her spot. She really chose well,” he added, and I looked at him, trying not to cry in front of everyone.

It was almost impossible to fish out a compliment from Taeyong during practice, but right now, he did it on his own accord, melting my heart with his words.

“Everybody is dying to know more about your partner,” the MC started, shifting his attention to me. I didn’t particularly like to be put in the spotlight, but before I managed to spit some nonsense, Taeyong butt in, rescuing the day.

“Although she doesn’t have much experience in dance competitions, I think she’s a great dancer. To think of it, she is my secret weapon,” Taeyong added, and I almost ran into his arms, feeling too overwhelmed by his speech.

“Alright then, let’s see what you got after a short commercial break,” the MC cheerfully announced before I bolted out of the stage as I felt the stress crept into my head.

“Calm down,” Taeyong softly spoke as he approached me, holding my hand, drawing circles with his thumb. “You’ve got this. Just focus on me,” he added, flashing me a reassuring smile before kissing my knuckles.

“Awww… isn’t it adorable?” Someone snickered, and I didn’t need to turn my head around to know it was Doyoung. He was like a venomous snake, trying to sneak into our subconscious and make us even more anxious. It couldn’t be fair play.

“Buzz off,” I barked as I didn’t want to let him tick Taeyong off. Taeyong was my safety pin, and I didn’t want him to go full rage on Doyoung. Their backstage battle would make it to the news, but I’d rather prevent it from happening.

“With Seulgi on your arm, I was giving you a five percent chance of winning,” Doyoung started, ignoring my warning. “Now, when she’s gone, I won’t even have fun beating you on the stage,” he added, and I almost surged forward to punch him. If it wasn’t for Taeyong, who held me in my place, I’d definitely rearranged Doyoung’s face.

“Don’t let him get into your head,” Taeyong whispered into my ear, and I nodded my head, sighing. Then, it struck me. Doyoung’s motive wasn’t to mess with Taeyong but with me. He knew I was the weakest link, and he wanted to guarantee his victory by making me doubt myself. His words rung in my head, but one look at Taeyong helped me relax. We had practiced it a thousand times; there was not a chance I would make a mistake.

“Come on. Let’s go. They’re calling us out,” Taeyong mused, pulling me towards the stage.

The silence filled the auditorium when we got on the stage, taking our respective places. I stole a glance at Taeyong – he was mouthing words of encouragement seconds before the MC announced our performance.

I can hear it callin'

Loving the way you wanna talk

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

Callin', something in the way you wanna talk

On two sides of the stage, we moved to the rhythm, telling the story of two strangers lusting over each other from afar. With hunger in our eyes, we tried to seduce each other with sharp movements, showcasing our attributes.

You got me sayin', you got me sayin'

How you doing? Tell me what's your name (Ey, tell me what's your name?)

What's your sign? Feeling like you are into me

Taeyong ran up to me like a man enchanted by the siren’s voice, rolling his body against mine. It was his moment to shine; everybody’s eyes were on him as he owned the stage with his overflowing charisma.

Baby, we're two distant strangers

I know you don't speak my language

But I love the way she's talking to me (Talking to me)

I can hear it callin' from where you are

Loving the way you wanna talk

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

It was a classic game of cat and mouse. Though our bodies were so close to each other, we moved in perfect synchronization, careful not to brush against each other. The chemistry between us was undeniable, and the feeling of yearning was visible from the very last row.

Max, max, max, we can have it all (To the max)

If you back, back, back, back, back it up (Back it, back it)I'll take you where you wanna, got the gas in the tank (Wow)

If you really wanna make it last (Git, git, git)

Finally, as the song slowly progressed to the end, we were showing intense frustration. We were portraying two individuals, yearning for intimate contact, who were hastily losing their minds over uncontrollable passion.

I can hear it callin' from where you are (Callin', woo)

Loving the way you wanna talk (Love the way you talk)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up (Yeah, yeah)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

The song was to end soon. The last chorus rolled in – it was our cue. After all teasing, we finally made the connection, ready to combust out of raw craze. After three minutes of painful longing, we were to reach completion.

I can hear it callin' from where you are (Callin', woo)

Loving the way you wanna talk (Love the way you talk)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up (Yeah, yeah)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

It was all or nothing. We were finally together, touching each other with fervor. The audience was eating our performance up – particularly when Taeyong showcased his flexibility and body control.

Tell me how you like it babe (How you)

I don't even know your name (How you, ey)

I love the way you're talking to me

It was finally time to finish our performance with a bang; we needed to show something spectacular, something Doyoung wouldn’t ever think about. As the singer began the last verse, it was my cue to run into Taeyong’s embrace. The second the last syllable rolled of the singer’s tongue, Taeyong caught me in his arms, and the lights went out to add a dramatic twist to our performance.

For a while, the audience was silent. However, a few seconds later, they roared in excitement, clapping loudly, showing how much they enjoyed our stage.

The MC was congratulating us, but I was too thrilled to register his words. I still couldn’t believe I performed on national television and didn’t trip and smash my face.

I had no idea how I found myself backstage, but there was a high chance Taeyong led me off the stage. I was too overwhelmed to do it on my own.

I even forgot that Johnny, together with Yeri – the love of his week, had backstage passes. I only remembered that when he wrapped his arms around me in a bear hug, congratulating me.

“You gotta quit that office job and start dancing professionally,” Johnny ordered, and I smiled, glad that he enjoyed my performance. “We both gotta quit. You’ll be dancing, and I’ll be a badass FBI agent.”

“You two were great,” Yeri politely said when Johnny let me go. “Thank you so much for letting me backstage.”

“No problem,” Taeyong replied as he grabbed my shaking hands. “Are you okay?” He asked, cupping my face, making me look at him. “You rocked the stage,” he added before he leaned forward to peck my lips.

Ignoring Johnny’s perplexed expression, I wrapped my arms around Taeyong in a comfortable hug. I hadn’t suitably introduced Johnny to the concept of me dating Taeyong, but hopefully, our interaction got the message across.

Emotions were slowly fading away, but I still needed Taeyong’s support. I was a rookie, and I had no experience with this type of stress. Something was calming about Taeyong’s aura; I couldn’t pinpoint what exactly, but I wasn’t going to question it.

“Anticipation is killing me,” I muttered against his skin. “Can he already go on that fucking stage?” I yelled, wondering why Doyoung’s performance didn’t start yet. I knew the MC was building up tension, but it was too much for me to handle.

“We could always skip,” Taeyong casually spoke, and I pulled away to look at him. What the hell was he talking about? I hadn’t agreed to help him out, so we didn’t wait until the end. “If we lose, we lose. If we win, your friend can accept the prize, can’t he?”

“Are you insane?”

“Maybe a little bit,” he answered with a bright smile, brushing stray hair off my forehead. “I just want to know the result already so we can go to Seulgi’s wedding and congratulate them,” he added, and I nodded my head. Though we couldn’t participate during the ceremony, the least we could do was to show up ridiculously late to the reception.

“Can they hurry the fuck up now?” I craned my neck, trying to find Doyoung and his partner. They were arguing about something right behind the curtain. Everything seemed they weren’t in the right headspace.

“I don’t think I want to see their performance,” Taeyong whispered, tightening his grasp on my waist. “How about a quickie in the dressing room? What do you say?” He proposed, and I smacked him, telling him to behave. It was tempting, but we really shouldn’t. I wouldn’t walk up that stage with messed-up post-sex hair.

“Get a grip,” I added, gently elbowing him. “Let’s just hit the snack table. I am hungry,” I spoke, pulling him away when the MC invited Doyoung and his dance partner onto the stage.

While munching on snacks, we stared at each other fondly. In some weird way, we were helping each other cope with anticipation and stress. Though it was tempting to check out their performance, we decided it was for the better if we didn’t.

They performed to “Hips Don’t Lie,” and it was almost impossible to turn my head around to check out Doyoung’s sick moves. Having considered all the videos I had seen of him, I was sure he looked gorgeous.

“What about a little peek?” Taeyong questioned, unable to control his urge to see his rival’s performance. “I thought I could endure it, but I can’t,” he added, and I nodded, giving in. Instantly, we ran to the nearest screen to watch their stage.

It was everything I imagined. Their moves were executed with precision and grace, but entertainment-wise, I was bored. They had the skills, but something about the general concept didn’t fulfill my expectations.

No matter how great of a dancer Doyoung was, he just could not pull this song off as the original artist did. Regardless of how hard he swayed his hips, it just didn’t live up to its potential. Though I wasn’t educated enough to give an honest review, it felt meh.

The audience in the studio whistled and shouted once they finished their performance, giving them a round of applause. With genuine smiles, Doyoung and his partner bowed before they ran off the stage.

Now, only thirty minutes of aggressive advertising, and we would know the winner.

“Is it too late to agree to that quickie?”

“You should’ve said so earlier,” Taeyong answered with an innocent smile as he reached to hold my hand. “The best I can do is cuddles,” he added, leading me to the couch, letting me rest my head on his shoulder. “It feels nice.”

“It does, but it doesn’t take my mind off things like a quickie would.”

“Don’t even try. I am not going on that stage with a boner in my pants,” Taeyong warned, peeling my hand off his thigh, pressing a delicate kiss against my knuckles.

Though it wasn’t as preoccupying as sex, it was still nice. And most importantly, it took our minds off the unbearable anticipation. A staff member actually needed to gently shake Taeyong’s shoulder to remind us that the MC was calling us to the stage.

Taeyong’s hand didn’t leave mine once we were waiting for the big reveal. It was fine if we lost. Next year, Seulgi and Taeyong would definitely make it to the top.

When the MC announced the winner, a few confetti bombs exploded. The audience roared in excitement, but I had no clue what was going on. Uncertainty was over – one of us won.

Stress, anticipation, and anxiety slowed down my reactions. However, I figured it would be weird if Taeyong picked me up and spun me around in his arms if we lost. It could only mean one thing – we did it.

We won.

Taeyong’s acceptance speech was short and simple. He thanked everyone who succored him discover his passion for dancing, who supported him throughout his dream, who directly helped him get this far, and me.

When I was handed the microphone for the first time that evening, I basically rephrased Taeyong words. Maybe it wasn’t my dream, but it felt damn good to assist Taeyong in achieving his. It was a bumpy road, but overall, it was all worth it.

The MC handed me a statue after shaking my hand, congratulating me once more. Taeyong, on the other hand, was gifted a huge check for 20 thousand dollars.

“Let’s go,” Taeyong whispered to me, running off the stage with me.

***

It was shortly before midnight when the Uber parked in front of the hotel where Seulgi’s and Irene’s reception took place. It was beautifully decorated with lights and flowers, making it look like a magical castle.

Though the security didn’t want to grant entrance, one of Seulgi’s aunts recognized Taeyong and told the man to let us in. She was nice enough to help us out, but she still found some time to glance disapprovingly at my stage costume. I wouldn’t be surprised if she gossiped to her entire family I was a prostitute.

As soon as we walked into the ballroom, Seulgi noticed us. She was sitting by the table, eating the wedding cake with Irene. In an instant, she rose from her chair and ran up to us, throwing herself on Taeyong’s neck.

“You won! I knew it!” She shouted as she gave Taeyong a bone-crushing hug. “Irene and I sneaked out for a while to watch your performance. You smashed them,” Seulgi added before she turned to me, congratulating me too.

“You were amazing,” Irene approached us, sending a polite smile. Unlike Seulgi, Irene was much calmer and collected.

“You are finally married,” Taeyong spoke, beaming. “You better have everything recorded. I gotta know every embarrassing thing that I missed,” he added in a teasing manner, earning a playful jab from Seulgi. “I bet you cried during your vows.”

“Congratulations,” I chimed in, breaking their friendly banter before it properly started. It was Seulgi’s wedding day, after all.

After we caught up, Seulgi and Irene walked off to the dance floor, leaving us by the table alone. For a while, we admired them. They looked absolutely stunning in their white suits, dancing, basking in happiness.

“Do you know where the gifts are held?” I inquired suddenly, looking around.

“Why? Did you have time to get them anything?” Taeyong asked before he stuffed his mouth with a chocolate glazed strawberry. “Or are you thinking of stealing some?”

“I just want to give them my part of the prize,” I started, making Taeyong choke on the fruit. “Seulgi’s the rightful winner, and I think it’s only right.”

“Are you sure? It’s a lot of money.”

“Yeah, I know, but I really want to do that,” I replied, fiddling with my fingers. “I don’t need this money, so I want to give it to her.”

“You’re so hot right now,” Taeyong said, making me turn my head in embarrassment. “If that’s what you really want to do, do it. But remember, you earned it.”

“I am sure.”

“Then let me spoil you with my prize,” Taeyong offered, staring into my eyes. At first, I thought he was joking, but when his gaze didn’t even falter, I understood how serious he was. “Well… look at that. What are the odds?” Taeyong spoke as a familiar melody echoed within the walls of the grand ballroom. “It’s our song. Shall we dance?”

Having glanced at Seulgi, who whispered something to the DJ, I smiled at Taeyong. Though I was sick and tired of Love Talk already, it was kind of our song. We had been listening to this song too much, and regardless of how good it was, the prospect of it being our anthem terrified me.

“One last time,” I gave in, accepting Taeyong’s invitation, letting him lead me to the dance floor. Despite having mastered the choreography to it, I just wrapped my arms around his neck, slowly waltzing to it.

“That’s nothing like we practiced,” Taeyong pinpointed, and I chuckled, shaking my head. “I don’t mind, though. It’s comfy,” he added as his hands found purchase on my hips.

“Seulgi doesn’t look pleased. She didn’t expect us to perform, did she?” I whispered into Taeyong’s ear, hugging him closer. “Also, it can’t be our song. We have to change it; the sooner, the better,” I complained, but Taeyong just chuckled into my ear, humming softly.

Instead of giving me an actual answer, Taeyong decided to sing it.

“I love the way you're talking to me.”

#taeyong smut #neosmutsongs #neosmutcollective #nct smut #taeyong #lee taeyong #nct u smut #nct 127 smut #nct fluff #taeyong fluff #dance au

296 notes · View notes

retrogradedreaming · 3 years ago

Note

UHHHH maybe,, you could write a little thing for reki making the sk8 fam tea? and kaoru thinking hes gonna have to pretend he likes it but then "oh wait reki can actually make tea what-"

just bc this has been living in my head for awhile sdkljfs

(capt-snoozles)

It turns out I am completely incapable of writing ANYTHING short, so have a full one shot type thing, I guess. I hope it's okay that I kinda borrowed headcanons from you and @that-was-anticlimactic for Reki with TS at a couple of small moments in the fic?

----

It used to be Kaoru alone who visited Kojiro’s restaurant when it was closed on Mondays. But since the start of winter break, Sia la Luce had become much livelier now that Reki, Langa, and Miya weren’t in school all day, and Shadow came when his days off lined up right. If Kaoru were being honest, it took some time to get used to the space no longer being only his and Kojiro’s, but he’d grown to like how their group came together like this.

The afternoons were the quietest part of these days. Kojiro took these opportunities to try out new recipes on them, leaving everyone contentedly full and pleasantly sleepy. Today, Langa had actually fallen asleep in the booth, and Reki sat beside Kaoru at the counter, playing with a tiny skateboard and making soft sounds like a small motor. Shadow and Miya sat at a table across the room, arguing over whether clown or cat makeup looked cooler while Kojiro finished cleaning. Kaoru let himself sink into the lull, Reki’s noises and that of the skateboard wheels on the counter an almost comforting presence beside him. And yet, one thing was missing, keeping him from truly relaxing.

“Seems like a good afternoon for tea,” Kojiro said, as if reading his mind as he appeared out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. “You want me to make some?”

“Absolutely not,” Kaoru scoffed. “People who microwave their tea should be arrested.”

“There’s no way you can tell the difference,” Kojiro said, defensive. “Hot water is hot water.”

“Only an uncultured pig would believe that,” Kaoru snapped. He was about to stand, to tell Kojiro he’d make the tea himself like he always inevitably had to, when Reki all but leaped from his seat, skateboard abandoned for the moment.

“I’ll make it!” he offered, and the way his face lit up meant that Kaoru took too long to say not to bother. By the time he’d found his words, Reki had already bounded around the counter and into the kitchen, and Kojiro didn’t even try to stop him. Before Kaoru could tell Kojiro to stop him, Reki called out to Kojiro, asking about the industrial stove, and soon, Kojiro was not only allowing Reki to make the tea, but encouraging him.

Kaoru supposed this was a step up from Kojiro’s microwave technique, but if Kaoru were likely to trust anyone other than himself to make a decent cup of tea, it wouldn’t be Reki. The idea that he’d wanted his tea made well and was unlikely to receive it as such set him on edge. As he listened to the water boil and the conversation continued around him, he found himself wrapping a strand of his hair around his finger and tugging, letting it go, and repeating the process until his scalp hurt. He didn’t even notice that Langa had woken up until he appeared beside Kaoru and spoke.

“What’s Reki doing?” he asked.

“Making tea,” Kaoru said, doing his best not to appear so anxious about something so small.

Langa peered over the edge of the counter to where Kojiro and Reki were talking in the kitchen, and then turned back to Kaoru. “I like how he makes it. I never liked it before I met him.”

Kaoru hummed a halfhearted response. He doubted that Langa’s standards were very high, given that he’d grown up in Canada. He’d likely had tea often enough, given that his mother was Japanese, but Kaoru knew from experience that plenty of people even here in Okinawa had no idea how to brew a proper cup. It was about timing, knowing how hot to make the water, how long to steep the leaves, and so many people rushed the process—or worse, forgot about it and steeped too long—that Kaoru preferred to make his own.

He couldn’t help but envision Reki handing him a bitter cup, or one that tasted like little more than hot leaf juice. He grimaced at the idea of having to drink it and pretend he liked it, suffering all the while. He would have to wait until he was home later to make something better for himself.

He was still trying to think of a polite way to decline the tea he’d obviously wanted when Reki came out bearing a tray of steaming cups and began making the rounds through the restaurant. Reki handed the first one to Langa, who accepted it, smiling softly up at Reki. Langa sipped the tea immediately, only to flinch and draw it away after the first sip.

Not promising, Kaoru thought. If he’d boiled the water, it was ruined, even if it was something as simple as green tea. And yet, Langa only took another sip while Reki looked on approvingly.

“It’s good,” Langa finally proclaimed, and Reki glowed as if he’d received praise from the emperor himself. Reki moved on, handing Kaoru his cup.

“Thank you,” Kaoru said, accepting it with both hands. Fortunately, Reki moved on to Shadow and Miya without waiting for Kaoru to try it, which meant that he didn’t know Kaoru only held onto it without making a move to taste it. If nothing else, he could enjoy the warmth that crawled from his fingertips all the way to his elbows.

Neither Miya nor Shadow hesitated in drinking theirs, though Kaoru couldn’t imagine they cared much how it tasted, as long as it was hot. And yet, as he watched, the two of them looked just as pleased as Langa when they tried it.

“Oh wow, the slime makes good tea,” Miya pronounced, hugging the cup close to him like a space heater.

“Damn, this is pretty good,” Shadow said, drinking deeply and draining half the cup. “How’d you even learn to make it like this?”

Reki shrugged, taking up his own cup, the last on the tray. He set the tray down on the counter and took the empty seat beside Langa. “I dunno, I guess I just picked it up over the years. It’s kinda like making skateboards, y’know? You have to figure out how all the parts fit together, and if you do it wrong, the tea doesn’t taste right.”

Kaoru looked up at him from the murky depths of his tea, brows raised. When it came to making tea, the analogy was rather profound, and Kaoru couldn’t argue it. Reki was right—tea was about the sum of its parts, the pieces fitting together perfectly. And as with building skateboards, the person making it had to know exactly how to combine each piece to create the whole.

“That doesn’t make any sense, but whatever,” Shadow said, taking another sip. “All I care about is that it doesn’t suck.”

“How come you’ve never made us tea before?” Miya asked, eyes trained on the Switch he’d pulled from his pocket now that he’d abandoned his conversation with Shadow.

“I don’t really have the patience for it,” Reki said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s kinda like, if I don’t wanna put in the time to do it right, why bother?”

While everyone was wrapped up in conversation, Kaoru finally chanced a discreet sip. If it was as bad as he’d expected, he could school his expression appropriately while they were all distracted. Perhaps he could even get away without having to lie about how good it was. And yet, when the tea touched his tongue, he paused.

It wasn’t too hot.

It wasn’t too weak or too strong.

It wasn’t too bitter and the leaves didn’t taste as though they’d been burnt.

It was, as far as Kaoru was concerned, some of the best tea he’d had outside his own home. For a moment, he couldn’t find the words to say so. He sipped it again, just to make sure he hadn’t deluded himself based on everyone else’s praise. Sure enough, it was almost more delicious the second time.

“You surprised?” Kojiro murmured at his ear, his own cup dangling from his fingertips. Kaoru jumped, nearly spilling his tea. When he turned to face him, Kojiro’s lips quirked in a smug grin, and he raised one brow meaningfully. Kaoru shot him a hard glower in return, a silent command to keep his mouth shut before Kaoru turned back to Reki.

“It’s delicious,” Kaoru said, and it wasn’t forced in the least. “I’m impressed.”

Reki, who had already immersed himself in talking to Langa, gaped at Kaoru, one of his hoodie strings falling from between his teeth. Then, he flashed a wide grin. “Glad you like it!”

“Have you ever practiced tea ceremony?” Kaoru asked, reluctantly setting his tea down on the counter.

“Nah, my parents let me try it once when I was younger, but I kept messing up the steps,” Reki said. “It’s not really fun when people get mad at you for doing it wrong.”

“I studied it for some time,” Kaoru said, remembering how the order felt comforting, how the amount of concentration it required gave his anxious mind something to focus on, how the simple yet refined aesthetic felt like clearing his head. In recent years, he didn’t have time for it with his calligraphy business, but a part of him missed it. “It’s quite a bit different from drinking tea like this, but if you wanted to, perhaps we could do a...modified version of it. Something less formal with everyone here.”

Reki’s eyes brightened, and he looked to Langa, who only seemed to share his enthusiasm. “It sounds fun, yeah! A lot better than getting yelled at by a bunch of old people because ‘tradition.’”

“I’d say so,” Kaoru said, and they devolved into talking about their favorite teas and the best ways to brew them. Kaoru couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked to someone who actually understood that tea was an art even more than it was a drink. But Reki did, and when the rest of the group finally left, leaving Kaoru and Kojiro alone in the restaurant to clean up, Kojiro nudged him with an elbow.

“You didn’t think Reki could make tea like that, did you?” he said, the words teasing but too close to Kaoru’s own thoughts for comfort.

“Shut up or I’ll leave you here to wash dishes alone,” Kaoru quipped, even as he accepted the next cup to dry. “I will admit, I was pleasantly surprised.”

“I knew you would be,” Kojiro said as he dried his hands and stretched.

“Anything is better than microwaved tea,” Kaoru said. And although it was true, he couldn’t help but look forward to the next Monday, and the last before the kids started school again.

#anyway hope you like it!#i had a lot of fun with this one #i also think kojiro's flaw as a chef is microwaving tea #even though that's not exactly a chef thing really #i tried putting some renga in here #so hopefully everyone is in character because apparently i only know matchablossom #also sorry miya and shadow have like two lines #i tried including everyone but it was SUPPOSED to be short #reki kyan #kaoru sakurayashiki #langa hasegawa #kojiro nanjo #hiromi higa #miya chinen #sk8 the infinity #sk8 fanfic #writing prompts #capt-snoozles

66 notes · View notes

the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years ago

Text

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 11

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: Nope! Notes: Here we are, a breath away from the end. This features not one, but FOUR songs written by myself. If you only choose to listen to one of them, listen to the final one (Cradle of Heaven), as it is a duet I wrote specifically for this fanfiction, as something that the reader wrote to play together with Daniela. The links to these songs will be within the fanfiction itself, at relevant times. Past Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2: Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco, Pt. 6: Elegy, Pt. 7: Harmony, Pt. 8: Obbligato, Pt. 9: Berceuse, Pt. 10b: Hymn AMAB

Chapter 11: Cadence

(Cadence: Two chords that mark the end of a song)

The stage is set, the lights are dimmed, your heart pounds within your chest, and the world is yours. Soon, it will be Daniela’s. She is right by your side, as ever, hand gently taking hold of your own. There’s a silent reassurance in her grip, a reminder that the two of you have overcome a plethora of challenges. A promise that this will be no different. Both of you take a deep breath, in sync, before exchanging a quick kiss. All of your hard work has been leading up to the coming moments. Although you are beyond confident in your lover’s abilities, there is a shadow of doubt in the back of your mind. Not for her sake, but surrounding the expectations held by her mother, the standard against which you would be measured.

“Come hell or high water, Songbird, I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise,” Daniela whispers, squeezing your hand again, eyes unblinking as they stare into yours. “You’ve made every right choice, worked harder than anyone I know, and there is nothing more I can ask of you… except another kiss to celebrate afterwards, that is.” Giggling in response gives you the moment you need to relax, nerves fading into the background of your mind. “Now let’s put on a show the likes of which my mother has never seen, mhmm?”

THREE HOURS EARLIER:

“Here, you can borrow my brooch. It’s been in the family for generations, since before we even came to the village, passed down starting with an ancestor who crafted it himself, from materials he scavenged while fleeing his home country,” Daphne rambles, helping you attach the jewelry to your shirt. Thankfully, her hands do not tremble nearly as much as yours have been for the past hour. “I’m more than sure that Lady Daniela will tell you this much, but I feel the need to repeat just how good you look right now. I don’t know where the hell they’ve been hiding this version of our uniform, but damn do I wish I could get one for my next date with Ygritte. Seriously, if you can get one in my size, please do me that favor.”

“Anything for my best friend. Especially after all the times you’ve saved my ass these past few months,” you reply, pausing to give her shoulder an affectionate pat. If not for her constant interference running, someone would have certainly found out about your relationship with Daniela. “Speaking of that… of my life being on the line, I mean… no matter what happens today, no matter what Lady Dimitrescu decides, take care of yourself. You’ve gambled with your own blood to keep me safe, but what I’ve done, what I’ve risked, those were my choices. My consequences. The last thing I’d ever want is for you to pay for them, somehow.”

Rolling her eyes, Daphne gives you a playful shove to the chest, before smoothing out the fabric of your dress uniform. Now she refuses to meet your gaze, a familiar mistiness taking over her brown eyes.

“Nobody around here is stupid enough to think you’ll die today. You managed to get Lady Daniela, of all people, to stay focused long enough to learn some absolutely beautiful pieces of music. You have proved, time and time again, that you are a talented musician, teacher, and ‘servant’. So get out there and kick some metaphorical ass, my friend, because you are ready,” she finally says, offering you what seems to be a handshake. But as soon as your hand meets hers, she’s pulling you in for a hug, holding you tight for a solid minute. When at last you part, you give her what may very well be the last smile she’d ever see gracing your lips.

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

A hand’s edge against xer forehead, parallel to the ground, kept perfectly flat. From anyone else, it would be mockery. From xer? Honest salute, solidarity in a traditional form, accompanied by a sharp-toothed grin. Mimicking the expression, you wave at Ava, glad to see that xe would be awake for your concert. After your first night with your girlfriend, Daphne had helped arrange for someone to be your “cover story” for sleeping outside of your usual quarters. With Daniela’s input (and jealousy), only one candidate had revealed themselves, in the form of a (conveniently) mute butler with an inconsistent schedule, love of mischief, and somehow the respect of the Dimitrescu family. Now, xe appeared ready to escort you to the location of your trial by fire.

“Are you sure our mutual friend won’t be upset to see the two of us together?” You teased, knowing full well that Ava was one of the only people that Daniela trusted 100% around you. In response, xe gives an exaggerated shrug, then quickly links xer arm with your own. Together you march onwards to your destiny, amused by the way xe practically skipped down the hallway. Maybe there was a certain wisdom to xer shenanigans, a carefree philosophy that encouraged laughter in the face of death, and you embraced the thought with a smile.

Before long, however, the two of you encounter another unlikely pair headed towards the same destination: Lady Cassandra, looking somewhat embarrassed, with an unfamiliar maiden at her side. Their hands are clutching each other desperately, although neither of them dares to look at the other. Instead they both watch you closely from where they’ve paused in the corridor. Oddly unfazed, Ava gives them a short bow of acknowledgement, earning xer a brief nod from Cassandra. Seeming eager to move on, she addresses you quickly before gesturing for you to keep walking.

“Good luck. Don’t fuck this up for Daniela, or I’ll never hear the end of it,” she growls, doing her best to downplay her obvious concern. Wanting to let her keep up with her facade, you merely give a nod as you resume walking towards the concert stage. Soft footsteps behind you let you know that the strange pair are accompanying you. Still walking alongside you, Ava repeatedly glances behind you, putting out xer hands in the shape of a heart, giggling all the while. If you didn’t know any better, you would almost assume that xe wanted to get hit by Cassandra.

“Ava, please calm down. If you’re not careful, she’ll throw something at you. If she does that, you’ll probably dodge, and then I’ll probably end up getting hit, and then I’ll miss the concert, Lady Dimitrescu will kill me as punishment, Daniela will be sad and whiny about it, and none of you will have any peace for, like, a month. Three weeks, bare mims,” you tease, nudging xer in the ribs. Emphasizing a pout, xe sends one last look at Cassandra and her ‘friend’ (whose hand she was still holding onto like a lifeline), mouthing words you couldn’t parse. Based on the way Cassandra groans, it was something ridiculously cheesy. Regardless, xe behaves the rest of the way there…

ONE MINUTE TO SHOWTIME:

“I love you, Firefly, and I know that you’re going to do absolutely amazing out there. I’m so proud of you,” you murmur, pressing a feather-light kiss to Daniela’s cheek. As dearly as you wish to stay behind the curtain, in her arms, you know that the show was inevitable. With one last nod to your beloved, you part the fabric shielding you, stepping into the spotlight. Imaginary crowds grow hushed at your appearance, a sea of faces greeting you warmly. In truth, there are but five members in this audience, each gazing upon you with veiled interest. Donning you best presentation persona, you set this final act in motion. “Lady Dimitrescu, Lady Cassandra, Lady Bela, and Mx. Caldwell, it brings me great pleasure to present to you, on this day, a concert performed by your own Lady Daniela. For three months now I have acted as her instructor, and these three months have been, perhaps, the most rewarding of my entire life. I could not possibly be any more proud of her than I already am. Now, without further ado… let us begin!”

Stepping to the side, a tug of a rope has the curtains parting entirely, revealing your beloved, waiting ready at the piano. All at once your audience (including Cassandra’s partner, acting as a mere servant in the background) sits up with wide smiles. They look Daniela over, taking in the sight of her fanciest dress, and the way her eyes light up with joy. By the time her fingers begin dancing away at the keys, there is not a single ounce of anxiety in your entire soul. This first song is a relic from your past, a representation of an abandoned idea, yet she plays it like a celebration. It’s fast, hits hard, a bold take right out of the gate. Admittedly, it is also somewhat short. Nonetheless, it serves its purpose, igniting a spark of excitement in those present. Once the song ends, Daniela is surprised by the intensity of her family’s applause. In the back of her mind, she trembles with excitement, knowing that the best was yet to come.

Riding this wave of pride, she immediately settles into the next song, something slower but far grander. Affection thrums inside your chest as you watch your pupil perfectly execute another piece. You can only imagine what her mother must be feeling, to see just how far her daughter has come in such a short amount of time. A quick glance in Alcina’s direction reveals the barest hints towards her being impressed. For now that was enough to satisfy you. Soon enough her face would twist in surprise, as the second song ended, and a new face steps up onto the stage: Lady Bela. Wordlessly she retrieves her violin from the back of the stage, then turns to the front with a mischievous smile.

“Now, a duet! Presenting the ever-talented Lady Bela, to join Lady Daniela for a rendition of an original song, dubbed ‘Northern Lights’. Enjoy!” You call out, before once more taking your place at the side. While Daniela did not need you to count her in for her solo performances, this feels ever so slightly more important, and as such you do your best to conduct for the duration of the song. If either of the performers need it, they hide it well. Honestly, you weren’t sure if your girlfriend had looked your way even a single time so far. ‘Twas incredible to witness her. Akin to a siren, near glowing, taking to the stage as if born to grace its center. Even with Bela working her own magic, Daniela is ever the star. Together they weave a lovely song, notes rising high into the air, swirling around an enchanted audience.

When it ends, both performers give a bow, as if the entire affair had come to a close. Without hinting at what was to come, you switch places with the eldest Dimitrescu daughter. A deep breath rattles your ribcage as you find your center, reaching out to take Daniela’s hand, the two of you raising your arms upward in a display of union. For the first time this evening, Lady Alcina narrows her eyes in what feels like disapproval. But you pay her no mind. Instead you sit alongside your beloved, quietly settling into your practiced position.

There is no introduction for this song. No announcement, no showmanship, nor even a countdown into the symphony. Simply, like exhaling a breath, the two of you start to play. Your phrases echo hers, and vice versa, calling and answering, accompanying all the while, natural as anything holy in the wild. ‘Tis the second shortest song of the night, only long enough to showcase the degree of your partnership with Daniela. As the song crescendos into an ending, you manage to meet the gaze of your employer. Perhaps it is merely an illusion of hope, or a reflection of lights above, but you swear you see tears in her eyes.

“Outstanding, incredible,” she praises, rising to her feet alongside her other daughters, clapping all the while. Once again you rise to your feet, hand clasped with Daniela’s, bowing as deeply as you can manage. Before you can even process what’s happening, your girlfriend is being pulled away from you, swept up into the arms of her mother. Desperation digs like a knife into your heart, as you ache to celebrate with her, but you remain ever in the guise of a professional. “You did amazing, my dear. I cannot begin to describe how proud I am.” The family gathers around each other, buzzing with affection fit to make the hardest of hearts melt. You are left on the outside, awkwardly waiting, without a hint of acknowledgment.

Even if this concert was a measure of your skill as a teacher, Lady Dimitrescu had never bothered to consider you more than another servant. This night was about Daniela. About your secret girlfriend, the brightest star in all the skies. That is not something that bothers you, nor does it surprise you. All that makes you wish to weep is the desire to kiss her. To sweep her into your arms, with celebratory kisses, singing her name as a praise to higher powers. In the end, it takes several minutes for Daniela to pull away enough to move back to you, and even then she cannot give you the reaction she yearns for.

“I’ll come by to talk to you tonight, I promise,” she whispers, as she gives you the weakest hug you have ever felt. Then she is returning to her family, clinging to her mother with a massive grin. Soon enough you are left alone on stage, quiet surrounding you, mixed feelings gnawing at the pit of your stomach. Something feels… wrong. You cannot put a name to it. No one has hinted to you what your beloved has planned, for none but her even have a clue. As soon as she is alone with her mother, as soon as she has the smallest sliver of an opportunity, she knows what she must do. “Mother… we need to talk. I... I have a confession to make.”

#daniela dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #avaskian caldwell #cliffhanger #sorry folks #not beta read

75 notes · View notes

yandere-daydreams · 4 years ago

Note

half-spider half-human yandere with a darling who has arachnophobia

I think I’ve just been in a Yandere!Monster mood this week - I don’t know how else to explain what I’ve been posting, recently. Can you blame me, though? They’re so easy to run from, so easy to be afraid of… It’s only natural that they make good Yanderes.

Title: Arachnophobia.

TW: Spiders, Dehumanization, Mentions of Injury, and Mentions of Death.

It’d always been the legs, for you.

You weren’t squeamish. If it hadn’t been for the legs, you wouldn’t mind spiders at all. The uncharacteristic fuzz that coated their bodies, those unblinking eyes that were too big and too small at the same time, their distorted proportions and awful fangs and general wrongness, you could take all of that, even if you didn’t care for it. Their legs were the only thing that got to you, the only thing that made you fear the tiny, harmless creatures beyond all reason. You weren’t blind, you knew there were much worse things to be scared of, and yet, nothing sent a chill up your spine like the thought of an insect no bigger than your thumb crawling up the back of your leg or finding its way into your hair, its steps so light and silent, you wouldn’t know its there, not until it’s already made its fangs at home under your skin. It’s irrational, or, it was irrational, at least. It used to be.

Ikto wasn’t harmless. You didn’t have to tell yourself not to be afraid of him.

If anything, you should be more afraid than you’ve ever been. It wasn’t like he hadn’t given you a reason to be.

You cried out as you collapsed, the noise somewhere between a defeated sigh and a desperate scream, too quiet to do you any good but too loud to go unnoticed in the stillness of the darkened forest. It’d been childish to go into the woods alone, it’d been stupid, and you’d known that when you came up with the idea. Still, you hadn’t thought it’d been stupid enough to get you killed. The legends told of a creature who spun web like rope, who could string up a group of hunters in translucent silk so quickly, they wouldn’t have time to notice they were being trapped, not before it was too late to get away. You weren’t a hunter, though, and you didn’t mean him any harm. You’d told yourself that a glimpse would be enough for you to overcome your fear, all you needed to do was look at him, and you’d never think twice about the spiders in your garden or the dark corners of your home again. But, you’d tripped, made a mistake, stepped on the wrong branch at the wrong time and earned a throbbing ankle and the attention of a monster for your efforts. It was so hard to navigate through cobwebs when you were running. It was so hard to navigate at all when you were crying.

And, as you collapsed to the dirt, weak sobs still racking over your chest as pain shot from your heel to your knee like hot trails of pure fire, you began to wish he’d just killed you when you interrupted his meal. That would’ve been kinder than letting you think you might’ve had a chance.

After a moment, you forced yourself to grit your teeth, moving to push yourself up, but it was already a moment too late. Without warning, without sound, something tapered and unyielding dug into the space between your shoulder blades, pushing you flat against the ground and giving you a minute to fight back, only pulling away then you failed to struggle against its strength. You already knew what it was, what it had to be, but you still found yourself holding back a gasp as you were unceremoniously dragged onto your back, clenching your eyes shut in an effort to delay the inevitable. It was an exercise in futility, but you didn’t open them again.

Not until something soft and familiar brushed against your cheek, and your entire body jerked up involuntarily. You had to fight not to scream, the awareness of just how dead you were making the pangs of your injury pale, in comparison.

If Ikto had any intention of making your slaughter swift, though, you couldn’t tell. He simply towered above you, watching with four pairs of eyes as you scrambled back, using what was less of your courage to put an arm’s length of distance between you and your hunter. You had to wonder why you’d ever thought you stood a chance against him. Standing, you would’ve only come to his waist, to the junction where his grey, thick flesh faded into a black exoskeleton, so sleek and so impenetrable, you knew the tiny dagger you’d brought for your protection would be useless before it was even in your hand. You could barely see his face, but you didn’t have to. Everything, from the mocking tilt of his head to the way his shoulders tensed and bounced upward in a stifled laugh, made his amusement clear. His tone did little to aid your blossoming humiliation, the heavy drawl only making you bow your head, your fear nearly overpowered by misplaced embarrassment. “I thought you’d be faster, human.”

You bit the side of your tongue, but you were speaking before you could stop yourself. More to quell your own nerves than to get on his. “I thought you’d be a better hunter, beast.”

That earned a breath of a chuckle, so airy and so dry, you might’ve missed it if he had anything to compete with. Unfortunately, no animals skittered from tree to tree to distract you, no birds sang to divert your attention. You couldn’t blame the woodland creatures for making themselves scarce. You’d avoid Ikto too, if you had a choice. “Awfully brave for someone who just stumbled into my web,” He started, bringing a hand - a human hand, thankfully - up to his chest, pouting in an exaggerated show of his offense. Despite his size, he moved soundlessly, stepping between dead leaves and over obstacles in a slow, seamless circle around you as he continued. Evaluating you, only speaking to keep himself entertained. “I was having such a nice night, too. No heroes come to slay me, no champions shouting to face me to prove their worth, no interruptions. Just me and my prey.” This time, you got a sigh. A shake of his head. A step too close, a spindly leg coming just a breath too near, leaving you shaking and digging your nails into the dirt, trembling as he looked on. “And then you came along and ruined it.”

“I’m lost.” The lie was spat hastily, forced out too quickly to be believable. This time, when he edged closer, you brought your knees up to your chest, curling into yourself defensively. “I didn’t mean to bother you. I don’t want to be here, I’m just… I can’t find my way home. I don’t know what to do. If you let me go--”

“If I let you go, you’ll get stuck in one of my webs and I’ll find you weeks later, starved and dehydrated and begging for my help.” He paused, pursing his lips, settling in front of you. When he crouched, his knees bending into jagged points and his arachnid stomach nearly brushing against the ground, you went tense, but you didn’t dare to move. You didn’t dare to look at him. You didn’t dare to think, not when it felt like he was prying into your mind a little more with every second he spent staring you down. “It might be nice. I’ve never heard someone plead for my help rather than my mercy. I try not to play with my food, but I wasn’t expecting something so small and so tempting to stumble into my territory. Certainly not something with the nerve to expect me to believe such a boring excuse.” A growl seemed to edge its way into his voice, absent of the primal reverberation it should’ve contained, full of something manufactured, painfully learned. You might’ve felt sorry for him, if he hadn’t been close enough for you to see the dozens of harsh, pointed teeth that prevented him from bridging the gap. “Are you that eager to get this over with, human? Do you want to die?”

You didn’t hesitate, shaking your head furiously as his smile returned. Unconsciously, your fingers twitched, ready to search the satchel strapped to your side for any weapon you could find, but in the blink of an eye, the burlap sack was speared through, flicked to the side with little more than a tear of fabric and the rattle of its content. “Please, I didn’t mean to--”

“I’ll compromise.” Again, he cut you off, standing to his full height, taking your wrist as he did so and dragging you to your feet, his grip not loosening when you winced, attempting to favor the foot that wasn’t trying to detach itself from your body. “I won’t kill you. I’ll take you back to my den, make sure you’re attended to, but you have to come with me willingly. Say you’ll behave, and I’ll make sure you don’t have to limp your way into the loving jaws of the nearest wolf.”

You didn’t respond, but you flinched, and that was enough of an answer for Ikto. With a sharp, sudden pull, you were off of your feet entirely, dragged against him and held there with one arm, his free hand pressing against the back of your head, encouraging you to lean into him, to be affectionate. You wanted to push yourself away, to tell him you didn’t need his pity, that you’d rather take your chances with the most rabid of dogs than with try your luck with him, but your ankle pulsed and your body ached and you needed his help more than you wanted not to. And when Ikto began to walk, when you caught a glimpse of a long, inhumane leg moving easily over the uneven terrain, you weren’t sure if you could even move.

You weren’t sure if running was an option, not if he’d be the one chasing you.

“It gets lonely, occasionally,” He admitted, his voice so soft, you almost didn’t hear him. You almost wished you hadn’t been listening, by the time he thought to go on.

“And I’ve always liked the idea of keeping a pet.”

1K notes · View notes

psychicdreamfriendoperator · 3 years ago

Note

Can I get some headcanons with Free dating someone? I am WEAK

I might have rambled a bit on this one haha, feel free to resend the ask if you wanted something else!

— Psychic

Things to Note

the name should be an indicator, but Free enjoys his freedom— he’ll be resistant to anything that restricts it.

the Shishigumi comes first; even if Free is laidback, he's still part of the gang’s inner circle.

Meeting Free

surprisingly enough, your relationship with Free did not begin as anything sexual.

It doesn't even begin as a friendship — it's difficult to describe a situation wherein you find a random lion in your house.

You think he was trying to rob you.

You fainted, of course.

When you awoke, you found yourself on the floor with a nasty ache in your back and a note nearby.

The words were scribbled hastily in print; “WILL VISIT AGAIN SOON”.

You filed a police report, but nothing came of it— other an officer’s promise that the station would keep an eye out for “any suspicious characters”.

The police station is blind, you concluded. Reason being, the lion returned exactly a week later.

Now, Free (as you’ve learnt is his name) just waltzes in and makes himself at home.

No matter how often you changed the locks or fortified the windows, Free found a way in.

It was almost like a game for the feline— you gave up on trying to keep him out.

Free had a nasty habit of not taking off his dirty ass shoes before he put his feet up on your white couch.

As your relationship progressed, he became more mindful of his behaviour— though, it took him a while to remember not to put his shoes all over your furniture.

Gifts

you grew used to the lion visiting you randomly. Sometimes, Free did not visit you empty handed.

Free gave you an expensive phone— albeit one with a cracked screen, a watch that smelled like seawater and a couch with red polka-dots to replace the one he dirtied with the grime at the bottom of his shoe.

It took you ten minutes of cleaning your “brand-new” sofa to realise that the red spots were not part of the original design.

It was definitely best not to ask Free where exactly he sourced his gifts from.

You eventually began to feel a bit poorly about receiving things from him all the time.

The first time you presented Free with a gift, he shut down.

During his visits, Free liked to make use of your bathroom. He always set his suit, tie and shoes one side while he cleaned himself (and used up all your hot water in the process).

It was inevitable that you would notice the wrinkles, and the scuff marks.

You couldn't have something so unkempt in your house. It wasn't an issue for you to do a quick spot of ironing.

Even the shoes could be made presentable— you just had to wipe them off and apply a bit of black polish.

When Free realised what you had done, he seemed to be speechless. Just when you expected to hear a “Thank you Y/N”, God quickly brought you back to reality.

“You're going to do this sort of thing from now on?” He held the suit jacket up by its sleeves, as if searching for the wrinkles he knew were no longer present.

You shrugged. “If you keep your shoes off my couch, then sure,”

You thought that your gift would encourage him to visit more often, but for a whole month, Free did not visit you.

You wondered if the police had finally caught the bastard— but, after a month, he returned as if nothing had ever happened.

After that, he no longer showered at your place.

Free’s Thoughts & Motivations

this ‘relationship’ was the longest one Free had ever been in.

The lion who bathed in the revelry of the Black Market now looked forward not just to bloodshed, but to movie marathons and hearing you bitch about your neighbours.

The fear of this casualty metamorphosing into something serious . . . something permanent, compelled Free to leave you alone for a while to collect his thoughts.

He only visited you because your home was a convenient place to rest before returning to the Mansion.

(The night you met him, he'd broken in to avoid a police patrol in the area.)

The presents were bribes to keep you complacent.

(Though . . . maybe he felt a bit bad about ruining your sofa.)

As much as your gesture touched him, Free wanted nothing in return.

Your gift was proof that you held some kind of affection for him.

Free returned to the Mansion feeling quite warm inside that day, but he didn't dare shower at your place again.

The affection that you held for him, no matter how miniscule, was addictive.

Dating

The others didn't pay much attention to it when Free casually mentioned that he had a “friend" outside of the Black Market.

The inner circle grew suspicious when he refused to elaborate further.

“It's time that we address the elephant in the room.” Dolph gave a pointed look at the only empty chair in the room.

Free’s chair.

The others around the table nodded once in solemn agreement. Then, someone raised their hand.

Dolph’s expression seemed to soften the smallest amount. “Yes, Agata?”

“Who’s going to kill him if we find out he’s planning to leave the gang? I would volunteer but my shoulder's still healing from that last gang war—”

Before the scar-faced lion could reply, Ibuki interjected. “This is Free we are discussing— he would not betray the Shishigumi in such a manner. There's no need to discuss things like that,”

He tapped a claw against the table, “In any case, we will get to the bottom of this. Tonight.”

A Cause For Concern

you thought that you were being paranoid.

You hoped that you weren't really being followed.

There was no mistaking it.

Everywhere you went, everytime you went outside, it was there.

A singular black car.

“Eh? What are you panicking about?” You heard Free's voice, but you didn't respond. You tossed your car keys, and they landed on the kitchen table.

You sped over to the windows. With one, great motion, you drew them, only stopping when the entire house was draped in darkness.

“There’s this black car . . . It’s been tailing me all weekend,” Though your voice was calm, your hands were shaking as you made your way back to the couch.

Free grew thoughtful, but only for the briefest of moments. He waved dismissively, and lapped one leg over the other, pulling you onto his lap with his free arm.

“Don’t worry about it. Just the Shishigumi being the Shishigumi. They won't break in or anything,”

Silence hung in the air only for half a minute, before Free added, “Probably won't, anyways,”

But, you are more focused on the s-word, rather than on what they may or may not do to your home.

“Shishigumi . . .?” The word was foreign on your tongue, but it was not entirely unfamiliar.

You didn't move off of his lap, but you gently pried off the hands that held your waist in place.

If you didn't know better, you would have sworn that Free looked just a bit . . . hurt by your actions. Still, he got the message and his hands remained at either side of himself.

You were grateful for that much.

“I didn't stutter,” The lion tsked. His hand slid over his mane. He was antsy about something, thag much you knew.

When Free next spoke, his voice was low. His chin rest atop your head, and you could easily feel the calming vibration of his throat.

“It doesn't bother you, right?”

A sigh escaped your lips. You pinched your nose. You internally debated strangling him for daring to ask something with such an obvious answer.

Of course you would mind! You felt as if you had always known Free was part of some illegal operation— but, it had never crossed your mind to assume the lion was in an actual gang!

No . . . that was a lie.

The thought had crossed your mind. You willed the thought to go away everytime it reared its ugly head.

“No, I don't mind, Free. I don't mind at all.”

Going Steady

Free talked things out with his colleagues— that's what he told you, at least.

The ominous black vehicle that stalked your every move disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared.

Life went back to normal, though, the visitor's list expanded by eight more lions.

Ibuki and Dolph were infrequent visitors— if they stopped by, then you knew it was on important business.

Agata often fetched your groceries, so you saw him often.

Miguel, Dope and Jinma visited infrequently, but were not as rare to see as Ibuki and Dolph.

Hino, like Agata, was a regular. He mostly crashed in your guest room— apparently, it was easier to fall asleep at your place.

Once every few months, Sabu would deliver your groceries instead of Agata. He seemed nice enough, but you found him to be intimidating as hell.

For better or for worse, Free begun spending nights at your house.

It would be wrong to call him a freeloader, though.

“There's ten grand in here . . .” You murmured to yourself. You turned the envelope over in your hands. Your name was written on the side, in Free's chickenscratch penmanship.

But, there was also a note; “10K. RENT MONEY FOR Y/N.”

#beastars free #beastars x reader #beastarsxreader #beastars headcanons #beastars dolph mention #beastars agata mention #beastars ibuki mention #beastars jinma mention #beastars dope mention #beastars miguel mention #beastars sabu mention #beastars hino mention #ask #beastars #beastars imagines

139 notes · View notes

miraculouscontent · 4 years ago

Text

Didn’t Need Burrow (May 30th-July 5th)

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Narrative basically ret-cons bad behavior of someone who isn't Marinette.

Oh yay! Alya V2!

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need Burrow to know that Mouse!Mylene will be called Multimouse.

I read somewhere that her name will be Polymouse but the source was broken.

Please be a mistake back when we saw the hero names and Mylene didn’t get her own name.

I’d also like to add a bonus that either Mylene gets named that without her consent (like someone calls her that), or Mylene names herself that without any knowledge of Multimouse!Marinette at all.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't need burrow: Assuming Luka×Zoe actually happens, there will be no build up whatsoever. In one episode, they just happen to get trapped together somewhere, talk for like ten seconds and start dating immediately afterwards. Basically the same as Alya×Nino bc none of the ships in this show (other than Lukanette and Adrigami) had any sort of meaningful developement before happening

A relationship beyond the love square getting development??? That’s cute.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't need burrow: Nino is gonna realize that Alya has the fox miraculous full time now and because of that he's gonna get pissy and so somehow Alya will be outta commission and Nino will be there so Marinette will give him a miraculous, Alya will probably say something encouraging about Nino, and then HE'LL get a full time miraculous to.

The only reason I don’t feel like this won’t happen is that it doesn’t direct anywhere near as much blame onto Marinette.

Anonymous asked:

Don't need burrow to know Chat will get angry at Ladybug and maybe Rena because Rena is now a permanent hero and he'll spend the day being a dick, but he'll be forced to work with Rena and realize things are good, but he'll only apologize to Rena.

Ladybug is just used to being chopped liver I assume.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Adrigami is restored, while Lukanette isn't.

Marinette will be too busy being forced by the narrative to continue caring about Adrien.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't need burrow, Su Han will only reappear at the end of the season and then disappear again.

“Hi, Su-Ha--oh, there he goes.”

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Adrien decide to confess his secret identity as Chat Noir to Nathalie. She decide to don't tell him that his father is Hawkmoth (but also decide to don't tell Gabriel that his son is Chat Noir)

God, the Agreste drama intensifies. Kill me.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Marinette actually REJECTS Adrien after the identity reveal after it hits her all at once that HE did all the awful, questionable things Chat Noir did. This allows the Love Square Drama to continue, with Marinette being slammed for DARING to be upset/have STANDARDS - everyone claims that she's set the bar too impossibly high and is responsible for her own romantic misery, while Adrien continues being coddled by other temporary love interests while waiting for her to wise up.

Uggggggh.

I’m just waiting for Ladybug to loudly reject Chat Noir and then she falls for him soon after and bonus if Chat rubs it in her face that she’s moved on or the narrative ignores Chat’s past actions as Ladybug is all like, “WOW HE’S SO RESPECTFUL NOW.”

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Ladybug's continued rejections of Chat Noir are directly compared to Gabriel's shitty parenting -- both of them are denying Adrien things he wants, and these crimes against Sadrien are depicted as equally awful. (If not weighted towards Ladybug being worse because sHe'S bReAkInG hIs WiDdLe HeArT~~~)

This one wins for making me the most upset.

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t need burrow: Juleka will become the tiger hero in another Julerose-centric episode, but this time Rose is akumatized (into princess fragrance again, but this time with a sentimonster so it’s DiFfErEnT). It will chronologically take place after guilt trip, but Rose’s disability will not be acknowledged, even in passing.

I swear, if I have to see a repeat akuma ONE MORE TIME!!!

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t need burrow: The major conflict of the season will be Marinette repeating “mistakes” (this can be similar to not keeping chat 100% in the loop till he throws a fit or having a human to depend on emotionally about miraculous stuff) Bonus: The show doesn’t show the good that came out of her actions and only the bad (Not having a breakdown and etc)

Yup. Definitely Marinette’s fault that she needed to rely on someone so she didn’t have a breakdown. She should’ve buried her emotions and broke down every day instead.

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: After the show runners give into another fan theory of new permanent heroes, they will quickly show why this was a mistake. Bonus if it’s the very next episode (because if Marinette did it then it has to be bad)

This already felt super likely and then you added “because if Marinette did it then it has to be bad” and now I’m just sad because it’s doubly right.

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: Marinette, who dreams of being a fashion designer, designs something that’s just ugly. Bonus if it’s never addressed/characters just say it’s great so the show doesn’t look bad at designing clothes

Does Ladybug count? Still can’t believe Chat Noir gets the “complex” outfit with actual thought and Ladybug gets the onesie.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: It's revealed that Emilie intended to use the Miraculi they'd found to 'give Adrien the world'. This is treated as a sympathetic motive because, as Word of God constantly insists, Adrien is perfect and deserves everything he desires, regardless of how anyone else feels about it. Thus it doesn't matter what horrific things his parents did or intended; their goals are treated as righteous, with Ladybug being Wrong to oppose them.

They just want what’s best for their son!!

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: There will be a plot in which LADYBUG is accused of not caring about civilians, with Adrien/Chat Noir getting to lecture her as if HE has the moral high ground. Or any ground to stand on. His abysmal track record is completely ignored, retconned, or otherwise treated as inapplicable; we likely get a singular moment where he suddenly Gives A Shit about protecting one of his friends/classmates, which is treated as proof that he Always Cares About Such Matters.

Bonus if it’s Ladybug choosing not to defend/save someone who spited her/deserves it, which is “clearly worse” than Chat Noir threatening to let Paris drown in “Syren.” Ladybug is not allowed to be human and also not allowed to show people that there are consequences for their actions, proving that they/Chat can take advantage and mock her as much as they want with no repurcussions.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Sabrina and Chloe have another Friendship Breakup; when Sabrina seems poised to actually get away from her abusive 'BFF' for good, Adrien intervenes/whines at Marinette to help him fix it, because it's nOt FaAaAaIr for Chloe to be aLl AlOoOoOoNe...

Is it too late to make Adrien disappear and have it look like an accident.

Anonymous asked:

DNB: In a Shocking Twist, Cats are revealed to be cursed - the majority suffer some catastrophic fate as the Ring eventually causes their Destruction. Only True Love can break it, making Ladybug's refusal to give in to Chat Noir's advances a literal matter of life-and-death and 'justifying' all of his behavior. Bonus if it's retconned that *Adrien always knew this*, despite nothing in his behavior ever indicating he believed himself to be on borrowed time. Because Angstrese.

Also bonus if this is also used as just another way to make him seem sympathetic. Double bonus if this information is brought up after Ladybug snaps at Chat Noir, and she’s told this information to make her feel guilty.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: If Adrien reveal someone his secret identity, it will be ... obviously Wayhem.

Nino: hello darkness--

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Goat!Marc, Rooster!Nathaniel and even Ox!Ivan will be buffed out because not even the boys in this show are allowed to keep their own body shapes when they become superheroes.

I’m positive Ivan especially will be beefed up. The civilian models are really awkward at times and clearly not prepared to be put in onesies (it’s hard to explain and maybe someone more experienced with propotions/anatomy will be able to say it better, but their limbs don’t have a lot of “shape” to them I guess?).

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t need burrow: Alya’s miraculous looks exactly the same in it’s “camouflage” mode solely so Lila can easily switch her necklace with Alya’s. (seriously why does it not change that bothers the hell out of me)

If that happens, I’d put money on Alya not getting called out on it. Good to know you put so much priority on “secrecy,” Alya.

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t need burrow: A kwami swap will happen again somehow. Marinette will uncharacteristically scold Adrien way more harshly than normal AGAIN to make him feel bad about himself and this will further the (Adrien melodrama depression arc) of him feeling useless/ replaced. Bonus points if Alya picks up his slack.

Honestly, I was here for the scolding in “Reflekdoll” just because there weren’t consequences for her for once.

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: There will be Sad Noir galore. Its all Ladybug’s fault, naturally.

Naturally.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Episode where Sabrina gets Dog Miraculous will be Chloe-centric (or Bourgeois sisters centric)

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: the episode where Sabrina gets the Dog Miraculous (which seems inevitable now, ugh) will heavily feature or even focus on Chloé, despite the fact that Chloé has already had a couple of episodes focusing largely on her this season. Sabrina’s introduction as a hero will have about as much focus as Kim’s or will be jammed into the last five minutes of the episode. Bonus points if they manage to deny her a proper transformation sequence like they did Kagami.

Roger: *exists and desperately needs development on his policy that caused Sabrina to become Chloe’s slave in the first place*

show: okay but--

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Under pressure, Marinette admits to Alya and/or Tikki that she doesn't mind the attention (aka constant harassment) Chat Noir gives her; parroting common claims by sexual harassers, she says it makes her feel *special* and *noticed*. She may also insist that she still wishes he would focus on the AKUMA/their responsibilities more, but the obvious point of this scene is to 'justify' his behavior with evidence that 'she enjoys it'.

MARINETTE

PLEASE

YOU DESERVE SO MUCH BETTER

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: There will be a joke about Chat Noir *copping a feel* on Ladybug after an akuma sends them into an awkward position. Ladybug's shock and discomfort is played for laughs; bonus if he quips about her suit not leaving much to the imagination. Adrien is in a fantastic mood afterwards, considering that to be the 'best battle yet'. (Alternatively, another heroine is victimized and Ladybug is visibly jealous/her annoyance at Chat is treated like jealousy.)

I’m not adding this to the spreadsheet just because a scene like that is too dicey for a kid’s show (though, believe me, if it were to happen, I’m putting that on it’s own damn card), but I will say that this would 100% happen if this were an anime/aimed towards an older audience.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien tricks Alya into thinking that Chat Noir already knows Ladybug's secret identity, thusly learning that she's Marinette. This is passed off as all MARI's fault, naturally. If Alya apologizes at all, it's in a backhanded, "But why didn't he know this already?" sort of fashion.

It’s Marinette’s fault for telling Alya her identity in the first place.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Post-Reveal, Marinette struggles to reconcile how her crush is also her abusive slacker 'partner'. Adrien, by contrast, accepts her as Ladybug immediately... though his words make clear that he doesn't give a shit who SHE is, just that she's Ladybug. Naturally, this is treated as Mari needing to learn how to accept Adrien for who he is, all while insisting that his many flaws and failings aren't issues at all.

i hate it, thanks

Anonymous asked:

DNB: The RLBS is EXPLICITLY punishment for Marinette: after a mutual reveal, Adrien declares that they can't get together as civilians until she accepts him as Chat Noir. Mari is forced to awkwardly pursue Chat as Ladybug while he strings her along/humiliates her; meanwhile, Adrien trolls her with shallow gestures to fluster her/rile up their shipper classmates, who ride her ass for not 'sealing the deal' and making their relationship official. Alya, aware of everything, is the WORST about it.

I presume that “RLBS” is “Reverse Love BS” which... yes.

Also, that whole “she needs to accept him as Chat Noir” infuriates me because that’s been a fandom thing forever.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: The only reason Sabrina got Dog Miraculous is because of a scene where Chloe literally "Kick the Dog".

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow to know that despite Sabrina almost certainly getting a miraculous and becoming a hero, the fact that she deserves better than being abused by Chloé and is a worthwhile individual in her own right will not be addressed. Because StATuS QuO!

I just had a horrible thought that they’ll do the episode like--

Chloe treats Sabrina terribly like usual, Sabrina ditches Chloe and Chloe is miserable + takes it out on everyone else for it, then Chloe gets akumatized over it and Sabrina gets the dog (for “loyalty”), which leads to Sabrina going back to Chloe so that Chloe will direct the abuse more solely towards Sabrina because “she takes it out on others otherwise”/she’s “used to it”/”it’s her responsibility and this is the right thing to do.” This will also be presented as the “right choice” and Chloe and Sabrina’s relationship will basically not change for the sake of leaving Chloe the way she is.

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: Cat Noir is gonna throw a Syren-Sized fit if/when he finds out that Ladybug dares to have a support network through Alya (not a very GOOD support network, but one nonetheless).

Still waiting for the “lesson” where Ladybug is told she’s not allowed to have emotions/be vulnerable.

Oh wait, that’s the show.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't need Burrow: Adrien/Chat Noir will angst and fish for sympathy points instead of apologizing for the 40th time in the series.

Every time.

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: Luka is gonna say that Adrien and Marinette are made for each other. This is the last appearance that he will make in the show (with exception to background/shipping fuel between him and somebody else w̶h̶o̶ ̶i̶s̶ ̶p̶r̶o̶b̶a̶b̶l̶y̶ ̶e̶i̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ ̶Z̶o̶è̶ ̶o̶r̶ ̶K̶a̶g̶a̶m̶i̶).

Considering the ““““parellel”“““ episodes of “Truth” and “Lies,” I’m just ready for the same thing that happened with Kagami in “Mr. Pigeon 72.”

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Trixx plays pranks on Alya's family and is a little troll; he particularly loves teasing the twins, since any claims they might make about seeing a 'magical flying fox' will be passed off as childish imaginings. Alya blames Marinette for this more than she does Trixx.

Marineeeette, raise your “children” better!!

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya will wind up spilling Ladybug's secret identity to Nino because 'she needs to talk to SOMEONE about this!' (and Mari CLEARLY doesn't count for anything) and trusts her boyfriend.

I would also imagine Alya going on about Marinette’s secret to Nino without explicitly telling him.

Also, this will be an episode in this season because Alya couldn’t even keep it in for ONE SEASON (”Animan” all over again).

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Ladybug will be seriously injured during an akuma battle, with circumstances preventing them from winning the fight/repairing the damage with Miraculous Cure right away. Adrien/Chat Noir attempts to exploit the situation to learn 'his lady's' secret identity. The narrative REFUSES to call him out on this; it's entirely on Marinette to protect herself by hiding the truth despite her injuries.

Bonus because “Ladybug” seemed to imply that their almost invincible in their suits, though I imagine if they get hurt, it’ll be Chat Noir and used for angst (like in “Miraculer”).

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Marinette will combine Miraculi more often to cut down on having to track down others all the time and put them in danger. (And also because the merch guys want more stuff to base toys off of.) She gets condemned for being a 'glory hound' and 'taught' that she needs to rely upon others more often, no matter what sort of risks that might entail (she'll get blamed for that anyway) or how they might let her down (again, always her fault).

Marinette: *tries not to burden others and instead does what the narrative has convinced her of; bearing the world’s weight alone until she breaks*

show: gOd, mArIneTtE--

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Chat Noir's tendency to screw around, flirt, and not read or work with his allies at all gets Rena Rouge, Vesperia or one of the other heroes hurt. Naturally, this is played for Sadrien above all else -- if Ladybug or anyone else DARES to show any anger towards him for it, it's depicted as completely unjustified and unfair. Bonus if the injured party insists that it's okay.

They neeeed Chat Noir to lighten the mood! He’s worth the risk!

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: RLBS is kicked off by Marinette being utterly HUMILIATED by Adrien publicly rejecting her once he can't ignore her crush anymore, spurring her to give up on him 'for good'. Adrien decides that he misses her chasing after him and starts pursuing her, with Alya and others encouraging her to accept his advances/telling her that she's crazy to reject him even after what he did. Marinette's utter misery over the whole ordeal is treated as HILARIOUS.

It’s not like he mEaNt to embarrass you, Marinette!!!

Marinette didn’t meant to do a lot of things too but you don’t see the show giving her any slack.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien/Chat Noir starts treating Alya/Rena Rouge with exactly as much 'respect' as he gives Ladybug -- which is to say, nothing but lip service paired with stunts like refusing to help unless she spills Ladybug's secrets. Alya naturally blames Marinette for this.

I’m torn on whether he’d “””respect her””” as much as Ladybug or give her even more respect, probably on the premise that “Ladybug chose her,” and that somehow proves that Chat Noir is a good guy in all this (while, again, disrespecting/not trusting Ladybug/making his own decisions at every corner).

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien/Chat Noir attempts to charm Alya/Rena Rouge into sharing Ladybug's secrets with him, possibly making Nino jealous in the process.

*sees “Rocketear” trailer*

oh no...

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: We get another 'Bad Future' episode centered on Sadrien; this time around, it features him losing the Ring, painting this popular plotline as a horrible idea because Adrien is Perfect and Never Does Anything Wrong, and should never be punished for his actions. No matter how it happens, Marinette is blamed for it; bonus if somebody angrily tells her that SHE should have lost HER Miraculous instead.

Wouldn’t be surprised, but that would also mean making a new model of a cat hero.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: It's revealed that part of the reason Alix/Bunnix refuses to share any 'Spoilers' about how the future is 'meant to go' is because Marinette Suffers Incredibly in the process, and Alix knows that she'd try to find some other way... and assumes that she'd fail in the process. This is treated as entirely valid and Marinette, if she learns that this is part why Bunnix won't tell her shit, has to accept that she's just doomed to be Fate's personal punching bag. Sucks to be her!

It’s “meant to be.”

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Marinette/Ladybug is told outright that she's a horrible person for not respecting Chat Noir's feelings for her. Bonus points if it's Alya, citing Mari's crush on Adrien as proof that she should know how it feels to constantly fail at getting your crush's attention. (Alternately, Adrien venting to her about how *unfair* it is that Ladybug's so cruel to her partner, unaware of the dramatic irony.) Triple-7 Jackpot of Shit if this contributes to the RLBS becoming a thing.

UGGGGGH.

And of course Chat Noir wouldn’t get the same treament and it’ll be like, “WELL ADRIEN DOESN’T kNoW sO--”

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Instead of Lila, Chloe is revealed to be the next holder of the Butterfly Miraculous. This shows Chloe as "irredeemable" while successfully writing Lila out of the show.

Meanwhile, the writers’ script is frantically scribbled on with red marker.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Reveal that post about Lila being future Hawkmoth was Red Herring (or in this case orange herring)

Dumb herring.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't need a burrow;

By the end of the series, Gabriel will have a redemption arc to feel sympathy for him :o

guys he’s so sad don’t you see--

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien's inability to choose between the 'love of his life' and the abusive shitbag excuse of a sire who'd just smacked him like a ping-pong ball foreshadows that he will ultimate choose Gabriel after learning that he's Hawk/Shadowmoth. This will be entirely blamed on Marinette not being able to keep him by her side because 'she didn't love/cherish/appreciate him enough'!

After “Guiltrip” and the whole, “I don’t say this enough--” line, I’d buy it and now I’m sad.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: The RLBS is kicked off by Chat Noir switching sides and joining Hawk/Shadowmoth. Ladybug is forced to appeal to Chat's 'love' for her, with Alya, Tikki, and various other 'friends'/allies blaming her for his defection. Meanwhile, Sadrien starts pursuing Marinette as an outlet for his mangst, 'unintentionally' making her more miserably conflicted in the process.

She rejected him and therefore he’s in his right to switch sides. She never even gave him a chance!!!

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien is a Sentimonster/was created by other Miraculous magic by the Agrestes, who desired a 'perfect/model son'. This is used to further the narrative that his entitlement is actually a Good Thing: Adrien was not MEANT to have any wants/needs/desires of his own, but mysteriously developed them anyway. Thus Marinette NEEDS to cater to his every whim because it's sO mIrAcUlOuS that he HAS them in the first place. Hooray...?

His very EXISTENCE is MIRACULOUS, Marinette!!!

Also, Astruc will act like this was amazingly foreshadowed in “Ladybug” where Ladybug comments on Sentibug’s perfection.and with Astruc always called Adrien perfect (either on his own or through other characters).

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Another Shocking Familial Connection is revealed: Felix is not Adrien's cousin, but Gabriel and Emilie's original son, whom they shunted off on her sister and replaced with the 'perfect' Adrien. 50-50 split on whether this is used to excuse all of Felix's shitty behavior or if he's demonized further -- 'See, THIS is why they replaced him! ANYONE would choose the Perfect Adrien over someone like THAT!'

Why not both????

It’s like the Chloe-Zoe situation but male.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: After learning that Rena Rouge has become Ladybug's confidant, Chat Noir outright REFUSES to help at a critical moment, sneering about how 'you ladies CLEARLY don't need me'. As with everything else, the blame for his latest stunt is laid neatly at Marinette's feet, because Adrien is never EVER responsible for his own actions.

They’ll probably blame Marinette because Ladybug “didn’t tell him right away.”

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Circumstances force Adrien to be Mr. Bug again (since they already have the models). Much is milked from how HAAAAAAAARRRRD his temporary responsibilities are on him, and he reiterates afterwards how happy he is that he doesn't have to deal with that all the time. No actual sympathy for Ladybug's situation is displayed, though stans treat it as such; what we're actually SHOWN is that Adrien only cares about the burden when HE'S the one stuck carrying it.

As per usual, no one cares about Marinette’s problems until it directly affects THEM, and then they’ll go back to not caring.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: With all of the other abusive behavior Adrien has shown towards Ladybug, it's only a matter of time before we get a 'Why did you make me hit you?' moment. No akuma influence; just him physically lashing out at her because he's an entitled little shit upset over not getting his way, followed by the inevitable bleating about how bad HE feels and how he'll 'never do it again'. Naturally, this is presented as though Marinette 'deserved it' and must accept his apology.

Show, don’t do this to me, I swear--

I’d be surprised if this did happen, but more because it’s like wow the lack of self-awareness is even worse than I thought.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: We get a Very Special Episode about sexual harassment... which not only refuses to acknowledge Adrien's behavior as such, but asserts that he would NEVER touch 'his lady' in any kind of inappropriate fashion. Bonus: he harasses her in that very same episode to 'prove' that his behavior isn't inappropriate.

So “Felix” but worse...

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: The reason why ML Writers made Zoe an actress is to justify why she managed to recognize that Lila is "Liar that lies" instantly after meeting her.

Waiting for the moment where Zoe talks to Marinette to address Marinette “acting like she’s not in love with Adrien.”

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Lila steals the Fox Pendant from Alya/does something that affects her *personally*. Alya then reads Marinette the riot act, demanding to know "Why didn't you WARN ME about her?!" (None of the times that she DID count because Alya dismissed them as her 'just being jealous', which is, of course, entirely Mari's fault.) Bonus if we allude back to her claiming that 'good reporters do their research' and how she expected MARI to provide her her with proof of her claims.

Marinette: *thousand yard stare*

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: When Lila is exposed, Marinette gets blamed for all the harm she caused with her various deceptions, since she tried to warn others and couldn't convince anyone of the truth. Adrien 'taking the high road' is largely glossed over; if anyone finds out that HE knew too and never did anything to warn anyone, he's quickly forgiven for 'not knowing any better'.

See, Marinette, if you just hadn’t tRiEd--

And Adrien was just trying to “be nice to everyone equally” so he’s forgiven.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien/Chat Noir outright admits that he dislikes Rena/the other heroes being around since they make him feel unnecessary. This is treated as a perfectly reasonable and valid complaint rather than a slacker piss-moaning about being shown up by others making actual EFFORT.

*flashbacks to “You’re not trying to replace me with a turtle, are you?” after Carapace shows up LITERALLY ONCE*

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: We get a retread of the NYC Special's Angstrian when he accidentally ('accidentally?') Cataclysms Rena/somebody else. Bonus if the victim once again argues that THEIR experiences/trauma are FAR less important than his. (Especially if it's Alya, Nino, Max... somebody who ALSO happens to be a character of color temporarily killed off to make the spoiled white rich brat feel sorry for himself.)

It’s an accident and also probably “Ladybug’s fault.”

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien/Chat Noir skips an akuma attack/shows up late to find it was resolved without him, and mopes about how 'his lady doesn't need him anymore', requiring somebody else to massage his ego. Bonus points if somebody (likely Ladybug) is demonized for getting annoyed at him for being late/a no-show, because HOW DARE they take defending Paris seriously?!

Well excuse us, Chat, next time we’ll just awkwardly stall for twenty minutes.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Chat Noir will 'accidentally' Cataclysm one of the protective Charms so that its holder can be akumatized again. Bonus if he does this to Alya/one of the other heroes.

Probably Chloe.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: The protective charms are ultimately rendered effectively pointless when Adrien switches sides and starts using his powers to destroy them. Naturally, Marinette is held completely responsible for his actions, because God FORBID he ever be called to account for himself. Not when his 'partner' is around to absorb all the blame.

You didn’t make him feel loVeD, Marinette.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien pulls a Chloe with his own attempt at engineered heroics, putting the lives of others on the line to 'prove his value'. Ladybug is completely blamed for the stunt; bonus if someone accuses her of 'not learning anything' from what happened with Chloe.

Hate it. Hate it a lot.

We already got him trying to cause/hoping for akuma, so this isn’t too far off.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien gives Zoe better advice for dealing with her bullies. His policy for handling Chloe and Lila remains the same as ever. (In other words, only Marinette has to 'be the better person' and keep suffering at the hands of her abusers, since it maintains his preferred status quo. But it's no skin off his nose if Zoe's situation changes/improves.)

I also imagine that Adrien would give this advice without Marinette onscreen, so Adrien won’t be called out on it.

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: Alya will reveal Marinette’s identity to someone (possibly Nino) and the show will then punish Marinette for trusting Alya in the first place. Bonus point if the show then says she should have trusted Adrien/Chat Noir because he would never have betrayed her trust.

I’m just remembering the fandom’s complaints and wow I hate it.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Ladybug Miraculous basically change into Poor man's version of Green Lantern's Ring

*stares at the phone in “Optigami” that somehow picks up on the kwamis’ voices* hm

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: Marinette will look through the future and see one where she and Luka get together, except it’s portrayed as bad and abusive, more so if he knows her secret identity, and the only way for her to escape it is by getting with Chat Noir(and not...you know, anybody else. Or being single. Or MAKING THE RELATIONSHIP WORK!!!). Chat Noir sees it too, and gloat about in her face, since it proved that they were “meant for each other, m’lady!” Bonus points if someone calls Thomas Ass Truck out on this shit, and he either replies that it was the best thing to do, claims it doesn’t matter how Lukanette is treated/the love square ends up together because they’re “made for each other” anyway, or even tries to pass it off as “girl power”, because how could we let the female lead get with the respe—oops, I mean abusive guy over the one who treats her te—oops, I mean respectfully and like a “gentleman” would?! And then he’ll follow up by blocking them for daring to question the Ridiculous Relationship Rhombus and respect the “non-endgame” ship. Even wor—oops! I mean, better, if love square shippers use this opportunity to gloat about how “I always knew Adrien and Marinette(notice how they always place his name first?!) were perfect for each other, Luka wasn’t good enough for Marinette, take that, Lukanette shippers!” declaring it “anti-salt”.

bfgkdjfgdfg god

Also, the only problem with this idea is that it would mean making an adult model for Luka.

Bonus if another “disadvantage” to Marinette dating Luka is that Luka isn’t high class.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Marinette will be told outright to 'Get over yourself' and stop bringing up valid complaints about Chat Noir's shitty behavior, as the series becomes increasingly overt with its subtext about how one of Marinette's Biggest Mistakes is having STANDARDS.

Ignoring that Luka exists, of course, and if it’s mentioned that Luka exists then cue, “OH BUT SHE DOESN’T AAAACTUALLY LOVE LUKA.”

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need Burrow: SentiWiFi (Lady WiFi Sentimonster)

SentiEveryone at this point...

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Nino is again robbed of screentime by Sentimonster based on him.

*sees “Sentibubbler” title and trailer*

Did--did you predict the future??

...I mean, we’ve been doing that the whole time, but damn.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya will continue shoving Marinette towards Adrien, then mockingly ask 'Didn't you want to give romance a break?' or something along those lines. Showing that not only is she fully aware of Marinette's wishes and doesn't give a damn, but implicitly blaming Marinette for her inability to stick to them, despite how SHE is the one forcing the issue.

“We all know that you WANT HIM, Marinette! Stop denying yourself!!!”

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: When Marinette gets a spot of hope regarding her relationship woes, Alya leaps in to take all the credit for the apparent success. Once the light turns out to be an incoming Drama Train that blindsides Marinette and leaves her humiliated and heartbroken, Alya insists that it's entirely MARI's fault that things went off the rails.

Waiting for a line from Alya about how she’s doing everything right and Marinette must be really hopeless if Alya’s schemes aren’t working...

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya and Nino will get into a bit of Relationship Drama in order to further reinforce the series' double standards. (Such as 'It's OK for boys to lie, but girls shouldn't have any secrets.' Or 'Boys can hold grudges, but girls must forgive every trespass.' Or 'Girls shouldn't told boys to impossible standards like expecting to be treated with basic human decency.') Bonus points if Marinette gets blamed for it.

Yup.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: The subtext about Marinette not deserving a GOOD love interest is further emphasized by Kagami and Luka getting together. Kagami comments on how she can trust Luka not to lie to her; this is the closest she gets to explaining to Marinette WHY she broke things off with Adrien in the first place. After all, it doesn't matter if Adrien lies to Marinette; they're 'meant for each other'.

I’m still not over Kagami saying that the guy who lied to her is “made for” her only friend????

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Zoe learns a valuable lesson about the importance of Being Herself with Luka's help, teasing the idea of the two of them getting together.

“Bonus” for Marinette saying that Zoe and Luka are made for each other.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Chat Noir deliberately strings Vesperia along in a ploy to make Ladybug jealous. Zoe is naturally heartbroken when she learns the truth. Her pain is blamed entirely on Marinette, since Adrien can NEVER be held accountable for his own actions.

Ladybug, you should’ve seen this coming!!

Anonymous asked:

Didn't need burrow (kinda?), Astruc apparently is aware that his perfect Adrien is flawed as Chat Noir (he said so on twitter), and I fear that if anyone ever asks him why the two sides of Adrien so different, he'll reveal that the cat miraculous changes the holder's personality or some shit, which will cause "Anti Adrien Salt" to explode, screaming "the salter's claims aren't valid anymore, it's not Adrien's fault, it's the miraculous!!!1!!111!!!!¡¡!¡¡¡!!!"

I feel like he denied that back when he still had a Tumblr but gosh I’m just waiting for it to be confirmed because FANON THEORIES.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien gets a taste of what Marinette goes through constantly when he/Chat Noir suffers a bit of minor humiliation over his crush. His pain and angst over this is played DEAD SERIOUS, treated as though he's suffering through the WORST THING EVER even though whatever happened pales in comparison to what Marinette has endured. Anyone who dares so much as chuckle at what happened is villainized, since only a MONSTER would find his suffering funny.

I’m seething.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Return of Sentibug (for fanservice)

Bonus if they kill her off again. Something something “only one Ladybug” something.

neyla9 asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: So if Zoe gets sent to a new boarding school after being in Paris for a few months (there is a chance the writers will just completely ignore that this was established in Sole Crusher, in which case this probably won't happen), I predict that Zoe was brought in specifically to redeem Chloe, rubbing it in Marinette's face that she failed at redeeming Chloe, and force Marinette to give Chloe the bee miraculous back

Most likely. Apparently needed to bring someone else in to make Marinette feel worse.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien abandons/ditches his responsibilities as a hero because he's too busy sulking over his ego being bruised by some slight (real or imagined). Marinette is naturally blamed for this.

Oh, of course!

Marinette probably had to be late for patrol so he was intentionally late for something, and then was like well you did it to me, so--

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Chloe will get another tiresome 'Will she or won't she be redeemed?' arc, only to backstab/betray everyone again. Astruc will preen and croon on social media about how gullible anyone that thinks she could ever be redeemable is. Bonus points if Chloe's damning act that proves she's unsalvageable is something ADRIEN has done.

Meanwhile, Nino is back here absolutely collecting DUST!!!

I guess you gotta be a horrible person/make Marinette suffer to get screen time.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Chloe will discover Vesperia's secret identity and steal the Bee Miraculous, then spitefully out Zoe so that SHE can't be a heroine anymore.

Marinette is running out of teens at this point but finding new ones would mean more models.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Zoe is used to teach Marinette that she's too harsh on others for lying, and should accept that they can be dishonest sometimes. (Especially Adrien.) As a natural follow-up, Marinette is blamed/punished for falling for a friend's lies -- because CLEARLY it's not Alya/Adrien/anyone else's fault if she believes their bullshit!

No one’s perfect, Marinette! People are human!!

...Except you, of course.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Despite the incident with SentiNino, Shadow Moth will *successfully* obtain a miraculous by using the same trick. Bonus points if it's Marinette/Ladybug who falls for it... though really, she'll be blamed regardless.

Double bonus if she doesn’t fall for it but it still goes through.

Anonymous asked:

DNB: The 'Shocking Twist' of Adrien/Chat Noir betraying Team Miraculous and joining his father will be presented as though it's entirely Marinette/Ladybug's fault, with Adrien acting as though he Had No Choice and angsting about being 'forced' to betray his lady and friends. The series never acknowledges how self-serving his motives actually are, and any call-outs he gets are treated as Wrong and Awful and Blaming Poor Innocent Victim Adrien.

“hE’s jUsT tRyinG tO sAvE hIs mOm”

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: 'Borrowing' from many a Salt Fic, Marinette will thank her for 'proving who my *real* friends are'. This entails giving Adrien, Alya and possibly others credit for always standing by her, believing in her, and various other things that they never actually did.

I’m presuming “her” means “everyone”/”the girl squad” and yup.

Better tell than show I guess.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya will be retconned into having 'never believed anything Lila said'. Or at least, she will CLAIM that she never believed her.

I WILL BE SO UPSET

Also prepared for them to handwave it, like, “oh whatever, now I’m helping you since I know so it’s all good!”

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need Burrow: Similarities between Luka and Zoe were only red herring. Zoe will become Kagami's new love interest (and Kagami and Zoe's dynamic will be suspiciously similar do Fanon!Marigami)

But that would imply they care enough about LGBT rep.

Though they could always pull a Voltron and slip it in at the very end.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Marinette will suffer the toll/backlash from using multiple Miraculi ONLY for the sake of making that her Latest Mistake. Her past successes are only acknowledged as a way of painting her as arrogant for assuming she could continue doing so safely.

She’ll probably be yelled at and told not to “keep doing everything herself” even though that’s what the narrative keeps telling her to do.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien discovers his father's secret identity and hides it... and this is painted as an act of incredible self-sacrifice rather than selfishness. Rather than treating it as a betrayal of Ladybug/Team Miraculous, the series focuses on his angst and 'inner struggle', pretending there's something heroic about him refusing to expose Hawkmoth and potentially put an end to his terrorizing Paris.

Deep breaths, Clarity.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't need burrow: Alya will get to keep her boyfriend despite her being involved with the miraculous box n stuff, unlike Marinette. Why, you ask? Easy, the bond between Luka and Mari just isn't sTrOnG eNoUgH for them to last through difficult times, like Alya and Nino do so easily.

Ignoring that Marinette and Luka only just got together and also that Marinette has it WAY different than Alya.

But no I guess. Adrien and Marinette are “made for each other” so gotta discredit Lukanette whenever. Marinette isn’t allowed to be happy, we know.

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: The one time Marinette gets a break from akumas and her responsibilities all hell breaks loose and the lesson for that episode will be that Marinette and Marinette alone must carry the burden of being Ladybug and Guardian.

Marinette: *gets five minutes of sleep*

Paris: *catches on fire*

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow (Can I do two at once?): "Crocoduel" will not acknowledge the Lukanette breakup at all, and the titular Akuma will just be Guitar Villain and Captain Hardrock again.

(You’re allowed two, absolutely!)

I’d like to add as well that, even if they do acknowledge the Lukanette breakup, Marinette will talk to Luka about it but then be like, “I’m not focusing on love right now and I’m too busy so I’m sorry for everything that happened,” even as everyone keeps pushing for the love square.

#category: salt #Didn't Need Burrow #other: ask and answer #((This was supposed to come out earlier but I've been SUPER nauseous lately.))

49 notes · View notes

falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years ago

Text

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 13- Avengers. Assemble

Summary: With the new Infinity Gauntlet finally put together, things are about to get more chaotic then you could have ever realized. But in the aftermath, there is a joy within the sadness.

Warning: fighting, some blood, angst, fluff, bucky returns!

Masterlist

With no time to waste, Tony’s robotic tech ever so carefully placed the Infinity Stones onto a new gauntlet specially crafted by the man himself. With the utmost precision, he designed the piece in the familiar likeness of the Ironman suit, specifically taking into account the hand area. All in all, it looks just like that blasted Infinity Gauntlet that’s caused yourself and the universe so much pain.

But you known this is different, this is necessary above all else and must happen or you’ll face the dreary facts of never seeing Bucky ever again. No one still left behind in the aftermath like yourself will ever see their loved ones again, and Natasha’s death would all be for nothing. This is it.

You stand around Rocket with the rest of your friends, everyone suited up for the inevitable unknown while he carefully finishes up a few lasting touches on the metalwork with the aid of Tony to keep it steady.

“All right, the glove’s ready.” Affirms Rocket with a confident nod as everyone stands around him waiting expectantly, “Question is, who’s gonna snap their freakin’ fingers?”

The room keeps to a heavy silence before Thor immediately makes hastily overconfident steps forward, “I’ll do it.” States the bearded god of thunder, no surprise to you, like he’s even in the right headspace to take on such a task. Especially looking like he just walked out of a homeless shelter.

Thor quickly earns a puzzled look from Tony. “Excuse me?” Asserts Stark with a raised brow as just about everyone else gives Thor a similar look of bewilderment.

Thor waves him off with a casual swing of his thick paw, “It’s okay.” Calmly dismisses Thor as he walks in closer to the perched gauntlet, eyes set for the powerful object within arms reach. Tony, Steve, and Clint immediately raise their arms to hold him back for the time being as your eyes widen at his go-getter attitude for something so seriously dangerous. He would fucking die.

“Stop, stop. Slow down.” Advises Tony while Steve steps between the gauntlet and an eager Thor. Blue eyes set and steady though a friendly softness flashes through them knowing the true reasons why Thor wants to do this above all the others, “Thor. Just wait. We haven’t decided who’s gonna put that on yet.” Implores Steve while Thor blinks, clearly not satisfied with this answer.

“I’m sorry. What, we’re all just sitting around waiting for the right opportunity?” Laughs off the large Asgardian as his eyes trail around the room to the unclear hesitant faces of you all.

“We should at least discuss it.” Interjects Scott as Thor turns to face him before looking to all of you again.

Thor finds Steve’s conflicted gaze of uncertainty, “Look, sitting here staring at that thing is not gonna bring everybody back.....I’m the strongest Avenger, okay? So, this responsibility falls upon me...”

Tony sets a friendly hand on his chest, “Normally you’re right...”

“It’s my duty.” Interrupts Thor, more heatedly this time as Tony slowly draws him away from the gauntlet. Doing his best to sway Thor’s mind, “It’s not about that...” Begins Tony as Thor interjects. “It’s not that...” Rambles Thor as you frown, eyes set on the glowing Infinity Stones as they rest comfortably atop the Vibranium laced metalwork.

“Sheeesh stop it!” Whines the agitated god of thunder, “Just let me....Just let me do it.” Whispers Thor in defeat, face falling with remorse as he focuses on Tony, “Just let me do something good. Something right...”

Tony lets out a disheartened sigh, “Look, it’s not just the fact that glove his channeling enough energy to light up a continent. I’m telling you. You’re in no condition.” Sincerely adds Tony, trying his absolute best to sway Thor from doing this to himself.

“What do you think is coursing through my veins right now?” Asks Thor with a reasonable bout of self confidence while Rodney throws a sarcastic. “Cheez Whiz?” In reply. Thor clenches his fist, pointing a threatening finger to him but ignores the verbal blow.

Eyes set on Tony as the god smiles, “Lightening.”

Tony doubtfully nods, “Yeah.”

“Lightening.” Says Thor again, like that’s going to hold all the answers and save everyone from oblivion.

Taking an anxious breath, you’ve already made your decision as you take a step forward, “Lightning won’t help you this time, Thor. You couldn’t take it.” He sends you a defeated look, eyes falling to the floor as the others gain your attention. Frowning, your eyes study the glowing colors of the new Infinity Gauntlet as you nervously swallow, “I’ll do it.”

“Y/N...” Begins Steve like a concerned father while his blue eyes grow with apprehensive doubt, he opens his mouth to speak more on the matter but you cut him off with a stern look, “My body can regenerate its genetic makeup, essentially I should heal from anything it does to me, it won’t kill me Stev...”

“We don’t know that,” Interjects a worried Bruce as he walks in closer to your little group, “It’s gotta be me, we saw what those stones did to Thanos. They almost killed him, these are the Infinity Stones we’re talking about. None of you could survive.” Explains Bruce honestly as he finds your troubled gaze, “Even you, Y/N.”

Your brows furrow in thought while you let a depleted sigh escape your lips, “How do we know you will?”

“We don’t.” Begrudgingly admits Banner, “But the radiation’s mostly gamma. It’s like...” He stares solemnly down at the beacon of destructive hope for a small moment, its shimmering colors glowing with a dangerous beauty, “..I was made for this.”

“Then it’s settled then.” Declares Tony with a confident nod, “We do this today. Everyone suit up, we have no idea how this is going to go.” And with that does the room quickly file out, your small team of nine hastily on the move to prepare yourselves for the impending future still held in mystery and a growing hope.

Soon, you and the rest of the Avengers nervously watch as Bruce picks up the metal gauntlet while Tony sends him a concerned brotherly look. “Good to go, yeah?” Wonders Tony as he stands a couple feet away for safety reasons like everyone else. Bruce gives the stones a last fleeting glance before raising his eyes up to meet him, “Let’s do it.”

“Okay, remember, everyone Thanos snapped away five years ago you’re just bringing them back to now, today. Don’t change anything from the last five years.” Warns Tony as Bruce nods. “Got it.”

Everyone takes a cautious step backwards, making sure to shield themselves from whatever’s about to happen next with either their actual suits or in Steve’s case his legitimate shield. All you got on is your usual dark attire that’s armored comfortably in the areas needed. That and your uncanny but evidently helpful ability to heal yourself instantly. Which may either become unneeded, or hold true to its helpful wonder if things go south for whatever reason.

Tony quickly has Friday adorn the protective barriers around the buildings interior so whatever happens inside, stays inside. A moment later Banner puts the gauntlet on with a hesitant grimace, the metal grows as it adjusts to his hand, immediately the power of the stones glows bright. The raw energy crawling wickedly up his arm as Bruce falls to his one knee in pain. Loud grunts of strained discomfort emitting from the half-hulks throat. Shit that looks painful.

“Take it off! Take it off!” Worries Thor as Steve throws up a cautious hand. “No, wait. Bruce, are you okay?” Banner groans in agony as Tony adds, “Talk to me, Banner.” More pained moans are heard before Bruce is finally able to give a reassuring nod, well, at least the best one he can manage.

“I’m okay.” He mutters through clenched teeth, sending a small spark of relief through everyone as he forces his fingers to reach one another. Yelling like a charging warrior through the pain of battle, Bruce forces his stiffened digits into submission, snapping his fingers through the gauntlet with all the strength he has left before a blinding bright light emits forth in an instant. Cascading the small lab into an almost heavenly glow, you can’t see anything it’s so obnoxiously bright.

When the light fades a swift moment later, you’re able to witness the aftermath of a brave Bruce Banner who’s currently semi-unconscious on the floor, metal appendage laying a couple feet away from him as Steve races to Banners side, “Bruce!” Panics Steve.

“Don’t move him.” Warns Tony as he sprays some type of healing particles onto the ashen green of Bruce’s right arm to increase the natural healing process from the stones hefty damage. “Did it work?” Wonders a drowsy Banner while he blinks back the blurry fuzz of the gauntlet's intense power.

Thor smiles brightly, “We’re not sure. It’s okay...just relax, it’s alright you did it.” Both him and Steve give Bruce some more encouraging words of praise as you take a step back from the scene to release a breath you didn’t know you had.

Holy shit, you think, heart slowing down from the adrenaline rush of it all. Trying to take in everything's that’s just happened, you ignore as Scott wanders away to the giant opening windows as your ears prick to the sound of Clint’s phone ringing on the nearby metal table. You watch curiously as he slowly walks over to it before picking it up and answering with a teary eyed grin from witnessing the picture of his beloved significant other. The sound of his confused wife reaching your ears in an instant and your heart immediately swells with joy.

Bucky!

Suddenly a dark shadow bestows itself upon the compounds opened sunroof, you quickly twist on your heel to face the others who are looking up at a dark shape with an equally as baffled expression. A second later your world turns to darkness.

Then nothing.

——

Someone’s shaking your shoulders. God that’s annoying.

But you can’t see or hear anything, can’t even feel your own body but the stuffy thick air that flows forcibly into your healing lungs. Slowly, your senses of touch and perception come back to life, vision deciding to wake up from the blurry void next and with that so does your hearing, “Y/N! Wake up! Come on, wake the fuck up!” Shouts the annoying voice of.....Clint. While his dirt smudged face flashes with uncertain panic. The fuck does he want? And where the hell are you?

Coming to, you suck in a needed breath before he quickly sits you up against a rock, a dull throbbing making itself known from the right side of your forehead that feels oddly wet. Ignoring his concerned gaze, you press a hand to it only to find your fingers coated in blood, “Clint, what the fuck just happened? And where the hell are we?” You grumble before taking a good look around you, finding nothing but rocks and ruble. “This looks like a sewer system, goddammit my suits ripped.” You complain, still a tad bit disoriented from the head trauma that’s still healing while you eye up the nasty blooded gash on your left thigh.

Clint huffs in frustration before taking a calculated look around at your minimal surroundings of rock and red warning lights as he takes a step forward, boot quickly smashing into something hard as he looks down to find the fucking gauntlet of all things right by his feet as something oddly familiar sounds in your sensitive ears. Oh, shit. Jumping to your feet, you turn your head to the cavernous tunnel on the right, night vision giving you the perfect view of... “Space dogs. Fucking space dogs!” You fearfully whisper yell as he sends you a perplexed look.

“Ugh what?” Mutters Clint as you throw him a look of pure panic, understanding something is most definably wrong if you of all people are scared shitless, he quickly sends a lighted arrow past your head before catching a glimpse of exactly what you were warning him about. Thanos’ army of monstrous bastards from space. This is your nightmare all over again.

“Shit.” Mumbles an alarmed Clint as he tugs on your arm before the two of you book it in the other direction, screams of fury and death sounding from the beasts pursuing you. For a good twenty yards do the both of you run until by some wondrous act of the universe are you able to climb your way to a higher level where the creatures can’t get to either of you. Clint shooting a skilled blow to the creatures brave enough to pursue you further, killing them quickly enough so you both have a moment to rest. And inhale much needed oxygen from the swift sprinting session you just unwillingly endured.

Laying on the metal floor next to a worn out Clint, your breaths are heavy and labored when Nebula randomly walks out of nowhere like she owns the place, glad to just see a familiar face you pay her no mind when she leans down and quickly retrieves the gauntlet from Clint before raising her hand to her ear and speaking, “Father...I have the stones.”

Uh, what? Oh wait! Your eyes widen in fear as you swiftly jump to your feet, Adamantium claws protruding out of your fists as you prepare yourself for a fight to the death over that damned gauntlet when without warning she sends a swift blast straight through your chest. Shit, you can barely breath.

You gasp, falling to the metal earth as she’s immediately confronted by some green chick and another Nebula, though you’re too frazzled and in pain to listen to their arguing. A couple long moments later the traitor Nebula is shot, falling to the ground right next to you as your lung muscle and bones fuse back together again. Body at long last letting you take in a proper breath. Dammit she got you old western style too.

Clint’s at your side in an instant, “Jesus Y/N, you okay? That looked bad.”

Grumbling in annoyance for the misadventure you’ve just found yourself in, he kindly helps pull you to your feet, “I’ve had better days Clint, I’ve really had better days.” You deadpan as he chuckles before the both of you follow Nebula and the green woman out and into the clearing of the destroyed Avenger’s Facility.

Once foggy ashen sunlight hits your dirt smudged blood spattered face, a pearl white pegasus flies above you and Clint, “The hell?” Mumbles Barton as the two of you start jogging into the destroyed landscape of the desolated Avengers base that’s currently in the midst of a chaotic battle between Thanos’ army and the Avengers, and clearly a lot more then just your lost friends. God today just keeps getting worse, not to mention weirder.

“Come on, this way.” Shouts Clint as you two begin making your way through the mess, both on a mission to protect this stupid gauntlet and try not to get yourselves killed in the process. Though soon some type of giant lumbering beast starts trailing you two as Clint calls in to anyone listening, “What do you want us to do with this damn thing?” You can’t hear what they’re all saying due to the fact that your earpiece is broken, but quickly enough Clint glances at you.

“Y/N! We gotta find Scott and that ugly brown van of his, it’s got the time machine portal in it so we can get these stones away from here!” Shouts Barton as he jumps over a protruding piece of shrapnel before one of Thanos’ loyal creatures jumps near, throwing him to the side as you launch yourself onto the beast. Digging your shimmering talons deep into its neck as it screams in agony, dying a second later.

“Give me that fucker, I can see the van from here.” You urgently exclaim as he hands it over to you without a second thought, too exhausted to run any longer. With the stones in your possession now, you book it on swift legs across the demolished battlefield as monsters of all kinds pursue you.

You’re luckily able to slash a few while dodging heated blows in an attempt to stall your progression, although unknowingly to you while you’re sprinting like a bat out of hell, mumbling a distressed chorus of “Fuck off, Fuck off, Fuck off..” to no one in particular. Bucky’s gaze is able to track your panicked form as it races across the destroyed landscape, Infinity gauntlet in hand. So that’s what you’re doing, thinks Bucky with relief, glad to know you’re okay. Well, for the most part.

Slipping from his curious view, you make it a good ten yards before a lumbering beast knocks you from your stable legs and onto the ground just as T’Challa ends its ugly life. Body hurting all over, you finally give up the gauntlet into the arms of the Black Panther, “I got it Y/N, you’ve done well.” Praises the king of Wakanda as you give him a weak thumbs up in reply, too damn winded to really answer with anything fully comprehensible.

God it’s a good thing you heal quickly cause shit, your everything hurts.

When will this shit end! Huffing in irritation, you swiftly pull yourself up before joining the Avenging masses into the storm of chaos. You slay monster and beast of all kinds before Proxima of all beings throws her spear at your head, just narrowly putting a full damper on your already hectic day as you dodge left.

“Didn’t I kill you already?” You growl in irritation as she begins hand to hand combat with you, more so claws to sword then anything else. For the next minute do you two hash it out on the battlefield, Thanos and other brave Avengers doing what they can to fight the Infinity Stones off of him as you slice up her face in a moment of valuable weakness.

Unfortunately she’s able to kick you into the cement, raising her shimmering blood coated weapon before thrusting it downwards straight for your naked jugular when suddenly it turns to dust against your exposed skin. Eyes wide in bewilderment as you breath in heavy breaths, you’re pleasantly surprised when the bitch disappears completely, nothing left but ashes floating on the breeze.

Wiping some fresh blood from your nose, you slowly stand on sore legs, eyes quickly scanning the surrounding area only to find all of Thanos’ army turning to dust as well. A relieved smile falls upon your chapped lips, though quickly enough your heart sinks when you wander over to Steve and Thor as they watch Pepper say her last goodbyes to a dying Tony Stark. So he was the one who did it, he killed Thanos for good. And this is the price that must be payed.

Your chest rises and falls with labored breaths from battling the enemy as his reactor core flickers, white light slowly going out soon after. You frown deeply as Pepper sobs by her husbands side as you notice the others beginning to slowly gather around behind you, and the ones nearest to him. Peter, Rodney, Steve, and Thor.

The dismal scene breaks your heart to watch so instead do you drop your gaze to the ground where you study the ripped fabric of your pants and the dried blood that coats it. You can’t believe after all this shit and time spent tirelessly in pursuit of those fucking stones has the deed been done at last. Two friends lost in the taxing journey to save the world from a deepening pit of confusion and despair, but it’s done, and Thanos will never hurt anyone ever again.

You’re so tired you could probably curl up and fall asleep on the rocks below, but yet your body shakes with adrenaline that keeps you from submitting to the earth for a long rest.. “Y/N?” You freeze, going still as a statue when your ears fully register the voice it belongs to. You’d recognize that voice anywhere.

Blinking hard, you turn around, your eyes slowly trailing up to meet the beautiful blues of the one and only, James Buchanan Barnes. Your breath catches in your throat, it truly feels like your whole world has just stopped and reset itself. Tears immediately prick at the corners of your eyes from the intense feelings of being overwhelmed from battle and by him, he looks exactly the same as when he left you five whole years ago. Long dark hair falling to his broad shoulders, metal arm apparent as it shows itself freely in the cloudy sunlight.

His eyes of stormy ocean studies your awestruck expression, handsome face softening as he takes a cautious step forward, “Y/N.” Mutters Bucky as your lip begins to quiver, so many emotions rushing through you like a giant waterfall, a couple stray tears draw clean marks down the sides of your dirt smudged face as your heartbeat begins to race.

You feel like hyperventilating right now but are to astounded to completely lose your shit, instead do you let him silently walk the rest of the way to you before gently placing his hands against your tear stained cheeks. He hands you a handsome grin of pure love and adoration as you place your shaking hands against his forearms. So incredibly awestruck that he’s actually with you right now in the flesh for you to form a coherent sentence.

You swallow, eyes furrowed as they wander all over his beautifully dirty face, “Please tell me this isn’t some sick dream.” You whisper, voice raspy while you try and keep your inhales as less erratic as possible. “Oh God I hope this isn’t another dream.”

Bucky chuckles a sweet tune of joy before engulfing you into a ginormous Bucky bear hug, he gently wraps his strong arms around your tired vessel with ease, burying his head in the crook of your neck as tears flow freely out of you now. Shaky hands holding him as close and humanly possible while you breath him in for all he’s worth. Your Bucky, finally in your arms at last.

You can’t believe it, after everything you’ve endured, after a thousand nights spent alone and days lasting for too many hours to count. He’s holding you like his whole life depends on it, every single muscle and fiber of his entire being wills himself to hold you in his arms like nothing and no one else matters.

Because right now, in the midst of a desolated battlefield, you can finally feel at peace with the man you have never stopped loving for even a single second. The man you will swear on your life to never leave his side ever again if you can help it. Your sweet James Buchanan Barnes. Your beloved Bucky.

You can feel as a feather light kiss brushes past your hairline before he slowly pulls away, metal and flesh hands still holding yours as his blue eyes soften, “This isn’t a dream.” Chuckles Bucky as he studies your teary eyed face, a growing confusion clear on his puzzled features, “Why would this be a dream Y/N? I mean, well I’m not sure where we are actually or how I got here or why your hair looks different now....and uh...clothing too?” His brows furrow as he trails his gaze all over you, clearly unaware of the time differences between you both and what troublesome lengths it’s taken to see him again.

He doesn’t know. Biting your bottom lip anxiously, you blink with saddened eyes before resting a hand on his metal shoulder for a bit of self comfort, “How long until you came through those portals?”

Blue irises flicker to the ground in puzzlement before finding yours once again, “Uh, I think it was about five minutes actually....it’s, it’s weird. I remember seeing you by Steve and then, I don’t remember anything else until it felt like I blinked and suddenly these huge portals were appearing in Wakanda. And you weren’t with me. I don’t know what happened....I’m not sure why you look a little different now either?”

Smiling at his adorable confusion, you trail a hand up to drag it through his messy dark locks, “You weren’t gone for five minutes Bucky, you were gone for five years.”

His lips part likes he’s about to speak though nothing comes out, handsome face slowly falling into a frown while he gently touches the side of your bloodied cheek, “What?” Whispers Bucky in astonishment, “Five...five years? Five whole years? That’s why....that’s how....how you, Jesus Y/N...”

“You have no idea how much I missed you James....how much I, I...” Your throat feels like it’s tightening as you lip quivers, voice unable to produce any sounds but your labored breaths. You feel like bawling.

Bucky takes this like the dutiful lover that he is, pulling you flush against him once more as he gently squeezes you close, face pressed into your neck as he mumbles out a soft but meaningful, “I love you Y/N.” That causes you to almost crush him in your loving embrace.

“I love you too, so fucking much.”

——

Standing on the grassy edge of the Starks riverside house somewhere in upstate New York, dressed in your usual dark attire. Though for this instance, it’s a rather dismal affair that truly represents the black clothing adorning your body with more purpose this time. But you don’t feel as terrible as you thought you would have.

A soft late summer breeze blows your hair back as you keep your hands deep in your jacket pockets while you let yourself enjoy the beautiful view of the water shimmering in the sunlight. It truly couldn’t have been a nicer day for such a day filled with melancholy for the loss of Tony. In fact, when you arrived for the funeral today, you could barely look at Morgan without feeling the urge to shed a few tears.

She’s surprised you though, her little heart is stronger then you’d realized, she’s clearly filled with confused grief for the sudden loss of her father. But she’s admittedly able to handle the dreary situation better then you’d expected, though it is true we all grieve in our own way and in our own time. Luckily she has a plethora of friendly people by her side, plus your cat Silver who you let her adopt considering you’re technically homeless.

Soon the familiar sound of footsteps walking across the grass alerts you to a new presence approaching you nearby, you could smell his scent a mile away. The blue eyed man in question, stops by your side, eyes trailing over you while you keep a steady gaze on the water. “Y/N.” Your name on his tongue, spoken so gently as he forms your letters into a term of simple greeting.

A smile immediately tugs at the corner of your lips when he literally says anything now, you turn to face him as you raise a brow, imitating his tone, “Bucky.” You practically tease.

He flashes a quick grin before shrugging, eyes glancing up to the house before finding your undivided attention once more, “They made sloppy joes if you want one. They’re not too bad actually, I had one so....yeah.”

“I’ll take your word for it, but uh...I’m okay thanks.” You add, gaze set back onto the water beyond as you let out an admittedly tired sigh, “I’m just, I don’t even know.....whatever, I’m okay.” You mutter while giving a weak shrug, a frown crossing your features as your mind wanders to your lost friends and the reason why you’re even at this funeral. It’s been a long fucking road to peace, if this even is peace.

Bucky, noticing your disheartened expression, gently nudges your arm, “Hey, you know you can talk to me.” Assures your sweet lover, eyes softening as he gently tugs at your sleeve, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Making a sour face at the water, you avoid his gaze while your heart swirls with a conflicted sadness, “No. Not really.” You freely admit, “Both of them, I never got a chance to say goodbye. I wish I could have, I really do Buck.” Biting your lip to hold back the tears, Bucky wraps a comforting arm around you, knowing how much this all pains you since he’s been back and was filled in on everything that’s happened.

You don’t even hesitate to relax into the warm embrace as you throw an arm around his waist to bring him in even closer to you now, “Truth be told Y/N, I never got a chance to tell Tony how sorry I am for what I did to his parents. If there was onl...”

“He forgave you, Buck.” He shares a puzzled look with you.

“He did?” Whispers Bucky in confusion though a slight hopeful relief laces his words.

You nod, “Tony...we had a long conversation about that when I was visiting once for some birthday party, it was a difficult subject. But after everything we talked about, he forgave you for what you did. Of course we had no way of knowing this was all going to happen but uh, I just want you to know that. And so did he even if you weren’t there to hear it. Guess it was the thought that counts.”

“oh.” Mutters Bucky in clear astonishment as he keeps silent for a long moment, truly processing the solid fact that Tony Stark actually forgave him for such horrendous crimes committed against his closest family members. Bucky lets out a heavy breath of relief, giving you a small squeeze before speaking, “That’s, that’s good. Yeah, alright um...” His eyes flicker to the side as he pauses for a brief moment, “..you, you want anything up there?”

Chuckling, you roll your eyes at him, “What? Let me guess? You’re still hungry and don’t want to eat alone?”

Bucky keeps silent for a brief but telling moment as he mumbles out a soft, “Yeah.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

He nervously laughs before gently squeezing your shoulder, “Or we don’t have to, it’s fine I was just wondering...”

“Buck.” You throw him a humored glance as he smiles before you lose your grip on his torso, “Come on hot stuff let’s get you a sandwich.” He grins as you start backing up towards the house filled with multiple guests of all kinds still socializing amongst one another.

“Y/N I could go myself if I wanted to.” Says Bucky as he wanders across the grass by your side, “I could....but yeah, I’d rather have you with me.”

You snicker quietly as his stubbled cheeks redden in slight embarrassment, “Well Mr. Barnes, if you must know, I don’t plan on letting you do anything alone for a long time so get used to my company.”

“Sounds good to me.” Smiles Bucky as he gently nudges your shoulder, “But seriously you gotta try these sandwiches they’re really good.”

“Buck, I don’t doubt it.”

Tagged: @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender @a-girl-who-loves-disney @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @bizarrebibitch @atomicpersonacheesecake @jmstz @staygoldsquatchling02 @marvelbros-oneshots @shawnartmendes @mischiefmanaged71 @jckie94 @iamasimpingh0e @mjaudrey @thescarlettvvitch

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #Bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x you #marvel imagine #marvel x y/n #marvel x reader #marvel x you #fanfiction #fanfic #bucky fanfic #avengers insert #the avengers imagine #avengers x fem!reader #avengers x reader #avengers x you

86 notes · View notes