#there are somehow... 4 people following it... already..... which is like girl i have shared this nowhere..... how did u get here lol :')
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darklinaforever · 11 months ago
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Just because Emma D'Arcy says Daemyra is grooming doesn't mean that's the case. The actor, in the same interview, was literally wrong about Rhaenyra's age in episode 4.
Emma D'Arcy is an imperfect human being who can say stupid things. Especially today, many people use big words without knowing their real definitions.
I will add that even if Emma was talking about grooming, they did not agree and still did not find the scene where Daemon strangled Rhaenyra coherent, and rightly this time. Emma also said that they reads Daemyra fanfiction. So that basically means that they ship despite the problematic aspect. I wouldn't call it a victory for the antis.
Essentially, Emma D'Arcy seems neutral on Daemyra.
Also, Emma D'Arcy is an actor, paying to say certain things in interviews. Who's to say they's not just following the writers' stupid agenda ?
Then, I have already explained countless times that no, Daemon is not a groomer, notably in these posts, where I have also for some addressed the case of Emma D'Arcy and they grooming statements :
Moreover, even if the writers seem obsessed with a non-existent story of grooming between Daemyra, they do not seem to deny that it is a romance either. These people, and even HBO, obviously still have their ass between two chairs :
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I will add that no, Daemon is not a pedophile either. Go to @nrilliree to get the definition because I'm clearly too lazy to explain again :
Especially since if you give me the example of the young prostitutes (which the antis also love to pass off as younger than they probably realistically are, like under 13 years old, just to make it really disgusting) when Daemon was in his 20s, know that they were all maidens.
“Maidens” is a term they use to refer to young unmarried women. In brothels these maidens were most likely between 15 and 17 or higher do to the lack of nutrition of the peasants. A bad nutrition causes someone's period to come later.
So no, they weren't little girls. This was for the time of young women literally according to society's of Westeros marriageable age.
The worst you can say about this case of prostitutes is that Daemon had a fetish for virgin maiden for a period in his younger years. (And even if it's obviously not great, I'm not sure #irony that we can put it on the same level as a groomer, a pedophile and a rapist... Yes I'm making an insituation in Aegon II for the last 2 points. We're getting there...)
Aside from that, Daemon was in a relationship with his then favorite, Mysaria, an adult, he also married Laena later, also an adult, and also married Rhaenyra when she was an adult (all according to our modern standards), although yes, he courted her when she was 14. But I remember that Rhaenyra had reached the age where she could marry and had already been courted by men. It's not surprising in the context that Daemon courted her. Especially since there is no evidence that anything sexual happened between them at that time. (One talking about sex is Mushroom, and we know to what extent he is obsessed with it and therefore that his testimony is almost worthless, and the second is Eustace, pro greens. And I remind you that the greens were already making up bullshit on Rhaenyra's sexuality before Daemon's return)
Basically, Daemon has always slept with maiden, and always of varying ages. (which is completely wrong with the definition of pedophile)
Limit, you can talk about ephebophile, but as @nrilliree already said, there is no evidence on this subject, especially since Daemon has also been with adult women several times (Mysaria for a little more than 1 year, Laena for 5 years, and Rhaenyra for 10 years), and this by our own standards modern.
Also, what makes me laugh is that these same people who will claim that Daemon only likes young girls who are essentially minors according to our time (because obviously they will look at age only according to our time, which is an error given that the historical context of this universe is completely different from ours, but in short), claiming that Daemon only married Rhaenyra for power and striving to say that Laena was 15 / 16 years old like in the HOTD show when he married her, while no, she was 22 in Fire and Blood. Well these same people will come and tell you and claim that Daemon did cheat on Rhaenyra with Mysaria, in addition to Nettles, during the dance.
An event whose veracity we also cannot prove and which seems somewhat strange when we take a closer look (so you will guess that I don't particularly believe in it either). See @horizon-verizon posts for that.
Why do I say it's funny ?
Well because Mysaria is an adult woman, much older than Rhaenyra and Laena.
But tell me... if Daemon is so obsessed with underage girls... why would he have slept with a former lover of his, who was already an adult at the time, and even older at this point there ?
We see that what really interests them is more to say bad things about Daemon whoever he is, rather than having any real consistency in their comments and accusations. (And if anyone dares to say that Daemon was sleeping with Mysaria to ensure he got her on his side... wtf ? Rhaenyra is the queen. She pays Mysaria and assures her safety. Why would sex with Daemon be the only way for Mysaria to ensure her loyalty to the team Blacks ? She literally hasn't seen Daemon in over 20 years I think. What would she care about him sexually or otherwise at this point, except perhaps for personal revenge ? And then, if Daemon really was with Mysaria to ensure her loyalty to his side... Well he's a bit much of an idiot if he really slept with Nettles after that. These people love to say that Daemon is a great master manipulator who places his pawns well in advance, especially when it comes to women, except that... Daemon does not seem to have been very intelligent if we follow this belief that I have already seen among antis, which is once again inconsistent with the speech Daemon was a master manipulator of women... I mean, according to their point of view, Daemon knew how to pretend for 10 years with Rhaenyra. Why couldn't he have lasted longer to play the charade with Mysaria ? Once again, the consistency of their words does not interest the antis. They only care about saying bad things about Daemon !)
And don't come for talk to me about Nettles, because I've already made some rather long posts on the subject, go see them if you want :
As well as I highly recommend the extremely in-depth analyzes of @horizon-verizon.
Basically, the story with Nettles could never be proven, and I personally don't believe it.
On the other hand, Aegon II is a character who could be described as a pedophile (by Westeros standards and ours) in Fire and Blood, having been with a girl (= child for Westeros. There is no adolescence in this society. Only childhood and adulthood. As a girl and not a maiden, a woman having her period and therefore marriageable, the individual with whom Aegon II was therefore indeed a child), and not a maiden, from precisely 11 / 12... And he's being also reported as having several inappropriate behaviors / touching towards women, strongly insinuating that he is a rapist (by the own maesters being on his side). And no, Eustace never denied the girl's age, and continued even though he referred to her as girl and tried to downplay the scandalous event.
And why am I talking about Aegon II fans ?
Because it's systematically them who come to me to tell me the bullshit about Daemon being a groomer and a pedophile while sometimes maintaining that their little favorite is not a rapist, and a potential pedophile.
Which is still pretty damn cheeky...
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cult-of-the-eye · 2 years ago
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I had 4 nightmares in a row today and most of them were tma themed...I've never found it that scary but I guess now I am?? I'm gonna tell you them now:
(these are slightly unsettling btw so check the tags for trigger warnings)
You know desecrated host and confession? Yeah it's just that except I am experiencing what father burrows experienced. Except I kill and skin my little sister and I feel the absolute horror of waking up and realising what I'm doing and somehow it's worse when I realise that I've made my twin sister distraught. Cut to next dream where
I'm running from a burning hilltop house and through some sort of death trap maze thing made out of hedges and while I'm running for my life, terrified, it occurs to me that hey I think I might've listened to a tma episode about this, so I try to remember what happened so I can either avoid/follow that fate. I can't think of anything but for some reason I find a dragon shaped hole in the hedge so I run through that towards another house which is suspiciously similar to hilltop house. It's like a white clinical version and the family is smiling at me and they take me in and make me share a bed with their son. I am extremely uncomfortable and hyper vigilant so I just lie there awake and run away as soon as it starts to get a bit lighter. Cut to next dream where
I'm at home, it's like 9 pm and my dad has called me downstairs. Every day he checks everything is locked before going to bed after I've checked everything is locked cause hes kinda paranoid. Hes about to tell me off cause the front door is unlocked. The door slowly creaks open as we're standing there, showing a humid, dark street, backlit by an orange glow. It's very unsettling and I turn to my dad and shout SHUT THE DOOR SOMEONE MIGHT GET IN!! I then turn around into the house and it dawns on me that someone is already in the house. I know it's a man with a ratty top hat and an even rattier black billowing cloak, hiding in the shadows of our house and I know when I'll find him, he'll be pointing at me. Because of this knowledge, I tell my dad to stay put, because I'm gonna find him and potentially sacrifice myself. He lets me. I comb through the house, looking behind furniture and in every saturated, dark corner and I find him. Hes just as I imagined, pointing at me, with an open mouth, as if he's just about to scream. Cut to next dream where
I am still in my house. It's morning. I am entrusted with the care of a small child (around 7 or 8) and I am told that people are trying to kill her. People are baying at my open front door trying to see her and I tell her to run upstairs, while I block the staircase using my whole body. They're pushing against me and I see the girl peep down and I shout at her telling her to get away, they're gonna get you. The dream cuts away to the next morning. I wake up, feeling hollow. The girl is gone. I know in my heart that she's dead and probably has died a painful death and that I failed but instead all I feel is a sense of relief that I don't have to take care of her anymore.
Yeah so I'm gonna spend the rest of my life thinking about that.
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laesas · 2 years ago
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KPTS Playlists
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Kim's Album || Chay's Album
So the concept behind this is that Kim releases a post-canon album and Porchay releases an album of his own in response. I love the idea of how the songs on each of these would affect the other person listening to them, as well as giving both characters the ability to use songs to communicate feelings that they can't express openly in person.
KimChay - Why else would I tutor you?
A big mixture of both KimChay albums + some extras that didnt fit either album but fit KimChay as a whole or inspired me while writing.
Additional Playlists and rambling under the cut 🖤
VegasPete Shoot Me || VegasPete Let it Out
I love both these VP moods but struggled with mixing them in a single playlist! The vibes were too all over the place - so now theres one for the emotional stuff and one for the self-destructive decisions bourne from hedgehog funerals and bisexual lighting
SO! Thoughts on playlists:
The concepts behind the KimChay playlists are my favourite and they're the ones I put the most thought into! - I started them back in july and I'm still adding to them now! They're not necessarily all about Kim and Chay's relationship per-se, there are a couple that I think really fit Kim's relationship with his brothers for example, or the way that Porchay feels living in the compound with his lack of autonomy. I've tried to keep a consistent sound/vibe throughout and match both the lyrics and the sound to the melancholy post canon situation!
My absolute favourite is Chay's album (lovingly referred to as the chaylist). Picturing the absloute breakdown Kim would have listening to some of these songs sang by Chay is so delicious to think about. Hopefully these would be the catalyst to a KimChay resolution!
There are a couple of other less developed/experimental playlists like for KinnBig, Tankhun (sad lol) and KimBig on my spotify profile! (as well as some other non KP playlists)
If you liked any of these, found a new favourite, or found them useful/helpful for art/writing/rotating the faves in your mind, feel free to share and to come yell at me about them here! DMs are open, anons are on! I'd love to hear your thoughts!!!
#KimChay#The Chaylist is out lads#there are somehow... 4 people following it... already..... which is like girl i have shared this nowhere..... how did u get here lol :')#kim kp#chay kp#playlists#if you guys make anything inspired by this I would love love LOVE it if you tagged me! not to credit! like just @ me in the replies!!#like no pressure to do so I would just love to see it!#I'm nosy and excitable and I want to *S E E*#also I tend to be incredibly picky with *vibes* + lyrics so out of not wanting to offend anyone I'm not going to take 'add this!' requests!#but also if there's a song that's perfect for the blorbos that isn't on the playlist - anon is on and my inbox is open! I love music recs!#also if you have just general ''think about this character + this song!'' thoughts i would LOVE that! hehe#if u have a character... that you want a song rec for........... i could do that lol#my head is full of nothing but little guys#I have thoughts about pretty much all of the characters + xyz song *constantly* haha#I dont have a 'happy' kimchay playlist but that's only bc the vibes were near identical to the PatPran playlist I already have titled ):)#also if you spot the playlists where i went through taylor swifts entire discography and worked out every song where she was in a car#and then every song where she uses public transport#then no you dont.#that would be. unhinged...... 👀#I think my next one will be a Tankhun happy playlist which would refine the sadder Tankhun playlist a bit better#it's a similar problem to VegasPete. The dichotomy of my favourite boy knows no bounds!#ANYWAY#Send tweet or whatever#kpts
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accio-victuuri · 2 years ago
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so it’s not enough that yibo’s car door gets opened by a crazed fan days ago, trackers placed in his work van before, nasty rumors left and right, random people bullying him, melon accounts claiming they know things about his personal life and now this. “getting a fan pregnant?” at this point, even passerby who don’t know yibo at all are seeing a pattern. they just throw around random things to see if something sticks. none of them do because it’s all lies. i say that this is expected because he has btf promotions coming soon but i have come to realize that this should not be considered normal. these people can get away with basically a slap on the wrist and how about yibo? how about his reputation? the thing is these proceedings take very long to get a result. we don’t even have a resolution on the escort allegations, which yuehua already reported to the police and sued. level headed people can see through the lies but it’s out there. damage done.
just to show how pathetic this is, it’s a random girl commenting on another “beauty blogger’s” post. ( this online personality is somehow connected to du meizhou but like i don’t even care. so whatever.)
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AND IF YOU LOOK AT HER PROFILE, It’s obviously a troll account. The number of followers and likes says it all. Also her intro bio. I mean. It’s so obvious why this dummy account was created. 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️
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And now it’s deleted. See? They can stir shit up like this then up & leave. Their UID will be tracked and all that but see how fast they can disappear? In the meantime, Yibo and his team have to waste resources for this.
AND WELL THE CIRCUS CONTINUES. HAHAHAHAHAHA! This person is so dumb. You so dumb. So very very dumb.
After Yuehua released their statement, This girl posted an “alleged” photo of them and conveniently adds a blur effect. ⬇️⬇️⬇️ captioning it share picture.
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What’s funny is netizens, not even yibo fans noticed that the photo have a watermark ID on it that’s not hers. If you’re not familiar with Weibo, if you upload something personally, it will automatically have your username as a watermark.
it ends in “ra” and looking at this troll’s username, it does not have “ra” on it.
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moments later, it was discovered that it’s this photo she used. i mean. who. what. 🤦‍♀️ same initial watermark.
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dude. let me just blur out a random photo of two people and say it’s me and yibo. that he got me pregnant. humanity really continues to disappoint me. 💀💀💀💀
Chinese netizens are known to gather evidence, I mean with the amount of scandals getting out, they already know how to verify things. Look at how they discovered what time and where that photo of CFY’s was taken. It’s no surprise they noticed this little detail and knew right there and then that this girl is a fraud.
AND THAT “BEAUTY BLOGGER” (李恩 LIEN_) gets criticized, now i see she posted like 4 short statements regarding it. Commenting on people. Basically distancing herself from it. Must be nice getting all the traffic while slandering Yibo right? Ugh. Disgusting.
It’s still on HS tho. but most ( if not all ) of the posts are ridiculing the troll account who lied. I mean, at least we have that……
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I’m sad for Yibo. Angry at these jobless bottom feeders. Amused at their stupidity. Insulted that they think people are so easy to believe and manipulate. Please leave Yibo alone. Yibo-Official just opened their YT & IG yesterday for international fans, who is getting nervous again? Lol.
this is why he rarely interacts with people in public unless it’s a controlled crowd ( road shows for example and even then he is unresponsive once outside ), rarely posts personal things, has bodyguards with him at all times, keeps his distance etc. trying to avoid crazies and companies who want to see him get cancelled combined. and people wonder why he shouted at fans who were crowding at his hotel that one time? i mean, if you live the life that he does— i think shouting at people who are invading your privacy is actually being kind.
PEOPLE FORGET THAT HE IS HUMAN TOO. Ever since he started in this industry, it seems like he can never catch a break. C-ent is so dirty. 💀💀💀 I love everything that Yibo puts out : songs, live performances, dramas, movies etc but times like this I am reminded at what cost.
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A Fool of Me
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A/N: Hey guys! This one’s a request from @peachylemasters​. I hope I did it justice, I had to tweak some details to fit the plot but I think I hit all the notes. If you like this and wanna read some more of my stuff check out my Masterlist, or my series, I’m On Fire.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: When Spencer runs into a toxic ex-girlfriend at an event a kind receptionist saves him from himself.
Category: Equal doses of smut, angst, and fluff
Warnings/Includes: smut, graphic descriptions of sexual acts, unprotected sex, semi-rough sex, spanking, alcohol consumption, brief descriptions of panic/stress, please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed!
Word count: 4.7k 
Request: “Hey good morning or afternoon I heard you were taking requests. I thought of an idea we're Spencer Reid goes to a party and meets his ex. Things start off smooth and knows if he goes back to her, he will revisited bad and the good moments he had with her. Until a hostess see's Spencer going insane because he's talking to his ex. She helps him out and they start to know each other. Things get out of hands between them. So that was an idea. Don't know if I made it confusing. Have a great day✨❤”
   Spencer had had enough socializing for one day. It was enough that he had to attend panels all day, which really, he didn’t mind that part. He just hated having all the conversations afterward.
So his battery was really draining by the time the post-convention event was supposed to take place in the hotel’s ballroom. It was supposed to be a time for all of the people who’d spent the whole weekend working to finally blow off some steam. Have some non-work related conversations.
But Spencer hated parties. He didn’t like being surrounded by so many people, or having to have the same little nothing conversations over and over all evening. At least he was put up in a hotel this time around so he could retreat to the quiet of his room for a little while in the middle of the day, but that could only last so long.
She’s the very first thing he notices as he walks through the doors to the ballroom. Rachel. Perched on a high stool at the bar, hair cascading down her back, in perfect contrast to her dress. It was red and hugged her perfectly, like it always did. He’d seen her in it before a few times, he knew it made her feel confident.
He has no idea if he wants to talk to her, part of him wants to race over and give her his room key without a word. The other wants to turn on his heel immediately and bolt out of there. But he doesn't get to make the decision, she’s spotted him in the doorway and is more sure of herself. Beckoning him over with a wave.
He takes the stool next to her, and already he doesn’t feel great about it. She had this way of bewitching him, over and over he’d end up lying next to her in bed and waking up to an empty space in the morning. They couldn’t seem to keep their distance for very long.
When he sits she’s already ordered him a drink, and it’s his usual, and he hates that she remembered it. Or he hates that he likes the way it makes him feel warm inside. That it wasn’t just him who held onto some of their shared memories. So he takes a sip.
It’s been a slow night on the reception desk, so when Y/N sees him walking down the staircase into the lobby she can’t help but gawk. His suit is navy and impeccable, it fits him so snug on the shoulders that it must’ve been made for him. Which is a funny juxtaposition next to his hair which looks like he ran his fingers through it at best, curly, and unruly on top of his head. But it suits him.
She follows him with her eyes from her perch at the desk, watching him until he stops abruptly at the doorway to the ballroom. There’s a swarm of people gathered inside so maybe he was just the kind of person who was nervous around crowds. But that doesn’t feel right, the look on his face is all together terrified until it softens and he walks inside.
She has to move along the desk a little so she can see where he ends up once he makes it inside. And of course he’s next to a woman, a beautiful one too, in a tight dress. So that solves the mystery of why he looked so nervous. But that does little to actually satiate her desire to keep her eyes on him. On them.
Something doesn’t feel right about it, as thought it might not even be a date, like maybe this guy really didn’t want to be there. It must’ve been the way he looked at her, or the way he sat so awkwardly in his seat, his body language betraying him.
Spencer lets himself take her in for a moment, his eyes raking up and down her figure as she takes a prolonged sip from her wine glass. She might actually look better than the last time he’d seen her.
It had been a whole year. And they’d already been broken up, and back together, and broken up a few times over at that point. So it really was his fault that it happened again, they’d slept together, and she’d promised him more, and left him again. Like always.
He knew, he really did, deep down he knew she was bad for him. But she was magnetic.
“Do you like my dress Spence?” she asks, sultry and smooth. And she already knows he does, he’s told her before.
“You look very nice” he tries not to give too much away.
“I seem to recall you thinking I looked a hell of a lot more than nice in this dress?” she leans in a little as she speaks and it makes his heart flutter in his chest. But it somehow makes his stomach drop in the same instant. She turns her body towards his completely. Leaning in even closer now, and she puts her hand on his fucking thigh, and for a second he forgets how to breathe entirely.
“As a matter of fact” she coos, “I think I remember you telling me to keep it on while you fucked me, what was it, a year ago now?”
“372 days” is all he can force out. And he wants to lean into her touch, he wants to melt into her, let her do whatever she wants with him for as long as she wants to. But he knows it’ll just break him all over again. He wants to pull away but he just can’t, and he’s absolutely transfixed on her fingers squeezing his leg when they’re interrupted.
“Sorry, are you Dr. Spencer Reid?” the woman enquires, glancing at his little hand written name tag. He just forces a meek nod, “There’s a call for you if you want to follow me?” she motions for him to stand up and so he does, pulling himself from Rachel’s grip.
His immediate feeling is of overwhelming relief. He knew he was out of his depth from the moment he’d sat down. He was silently thankful for whatever case was about to whisk him away from this stupid convention.
He followed behind the woman, she led him out of the ballroom and down a quiet hotel hallway until she just stopped in her tracks in the middle of it, leaning against the wall. He could only look at her confused.
“The uh? The phone?” he tries to ask.
“Sorry,” she forces out a deep breath, “there actually wasn’t any call, I could tell— you looked like you needed some help?” she chances, “I’m really sorry if I overstepped, or misread that”
He lets out a huge sigh of relief, “Oh thank god”
“So I read it right?” she asks, relaxing against the wall now.
“So so right, you’ve got no idea” the relief only lasts for another moment before his eyes blow wide and he starts to pace frantically in the hallway.
“Dr. Reid? Are you okay? What’s going on?” she asks, trying to decipher his sharp change in mood. He starts to breathe in short panicked bursts and he seems like he’s really about to freak out again. She ushers him to take a seat in one of the plush armchairs that litters the hallway. So he does, and he immediately braces his head between his knees.
“Can I ask what’s wrong? Do you want me to get you some water?” He just shakes his head, his breathing unsteady and ragged, she recognizes it well.
“Spencer” She says it firm and commanding to get his attention, but soft enough not to startle him, “I want you to breathe in through your nose for me, we’re gonna do that for 4 seconds” she counts down for him, “now hold that breath for 7 seconds” she counts again, soft and slow, “then I want you to breathe all of that out through your mouth this time, and we’re gonna do that for 8 seconds.” He sits up straight and nods at her.
She counts out the cycle for him again and again until Spencer can feel his heart rate fall, settling into a steady rhythm of breathing until he feels calm again. And in this state he can finally take a good look at this girl. She’s crouched down next to him as he sits, with one of her hands resting against his knee. And instead of earlier, her hand feels comforting, grounding. It feels nice in an entirely different way than Rachel’s hand.
He looks down at the little gold name tag pinned to the lapel of her dress.
“Thank you Y/N” he says softly, and she smiles up at him.
“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” she tries again, gentle, not prying, just hoping.
“I left my jacket in there” he rubs his eyes with his hands like he’s in pain, “It’s got my phone and my wallet, but I can’t go back in there. If I go back she’ll suck me in again and I don’t want— I can’t!” she tries to soothe him, gently moving her hand along his leg.
“Don’t worry about that” she encourages, “Have you got your room key?” He quickly fumbles and pulls it out of the pocket of his slacks, and nods, awaiting further instruction.
“What room are you in?”
“407?”
“Great, you go on up, splash some cold water on your face and relax. I’m going to go get your stuff. I’ll tell that woman that you had an emergency and had to leave. Then I can can bring your jacket up to you. No problem” she says it like it’s obvious, and Spencer can barely contain his relief, all of the tension leaving his shoulders.
“Are you sure?” he asks,
“Positive” she confirms with a soft smile and a pat on his shoulder as she stands up.
Once Y/N’s confident he’s making his way back up stairs she heads straight to the ballroom. Now that she’s actually about to talk to this woman she’s nervous.
“Sorry ma’am” she starts, and the woman turns to look at her, and she’s so intimidatingly beautiful up this close, “your friend had an emergency and he’s got to leave. He asked me to send you his apologies.” her perfect face falls, unable to hide her disappointment. Y/N takes his jacket off the back of the chair and drapes it over her arm.
“Can you give him a message for me?” the woman asks, gripping Y/N by the elbow just as she makes her move to leave, she nods politely.
“Just tell him that I’ll get him next time” she says it like it’s some inside joke he’ll understand, but Y/N knows what she means and it honestly makes her feel a little sick. As she walks away she’s already decided she’s not going to tell Spencer anything.
Spencer’s been pacing around his room for the last 17 minutes. Y/N shouldn’t be taking this long, he wasn’t entirely sure why but he was getting himself worried again, working himself up over nothing. But his body relaxed when he heard a soft knock against the door, he all but sprinted over to open it. To her standing right there, his jacket draped over one arm and a room service platter gripped in her hands.
“Thank you” he exhales, pulling open the door so that she can could walk inside and leave both items down on the bed. He points to the platter, its contents covered by a large silver dome. “What’s…” he’s not really sure what to ask.
“I hope you don’t mind, I stopped by the kitchen on my way up, thought you might like some comfort food?” as she explains she pulls the dome off the tray, showing him the plethora of desert she’d taken from the kitchen.
“There was no need” he starts but she cuts him off.
“Nonsense! The guys in the kitchen don’t mind. If there’s nothing you like here I can have something else sent up?” she says it in a polished ‘customer service voice’, sickly sweet. And all of a sudden he feels a little silly that he hadn’t noticed it sooner. She was just a good employee, going the extra mile for a customer. This wasn’t about him.
“No, god no. You’ve done plenty already, and besides, I’m sure you’ve got to get back to work?” he tries to give her an out as they stand awkwardly looking at each other.
“Actually I’m good, I wont be missed” she begins but stops her train of thought, of course this was overstepping, she was probably freaking him out, “But you probably want to relax, I’ll get out of your hair” she nods politely and starts to make her way back to the door.
“Unless” it rushes out of him and he's not sure where it really came from, “When your shift’s over would you maybe want to— This is an awful lot of food—“ he just gives up on his original sentence and tries it all over again, “When’s your shift over?” her asks plainly and it startles her. But she can’t really do much to contain the grin that spreads across her cheeks.
“What time is it now?” she asks, pointing to the watch on his wrist.
“Uh, 11:43pm?” he offers.
“So 43 minutes ago” she feels silly saying it out loud now. That she’d gotten carried away watching him while she waited for her co-worker to take over the desk, and she just couldn’t stop herself from intervening the second her shift was over. But he doesn’t look freaked out by her admission, he looks genuinely happy for the first time since she’d laid eyes on him.
“You— You’ve been off this whole time?”
She gives him a little nod, bashful, “You looked like you needed help” she shrugs, trying to play it off.
“But I— You should’ve gone home, I would’ve been okay” no sooner does he get the words out than he realizes they’re a blatant lie, “That’s not true” he confesses, “If you’d’ve gone home I’d probably have already made so many stupid decisions by now and I’d be having my heart broken as we speak”
“Would you maybe want me to stay with you for a bit? Just to make sure you don’t go doing anything stupid?” she asks sultry, and it’s the first time she’s overtly flirted all night. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he nods wholeheartedly.
Admittedly he knows that if Y/N stays he’ll probably just make a different kind of stupid mistake, but he can allow himself this one.
“I’d like that a lot”
They sit cross legged on his bed for a while, sharing a slice of chocolate cake. Spencer had started trying to explain what his relationship with Rachel had been like but decided against it. She wasn't going to get to ruin any more of this night than she already had. Instead he changes focus in the only way he knows how.
“Did you know that chocolate can actually affect your mood significantly?” he says as she scoops a forkful of cake off the plate between them, “A key chemical in cacao stimulates the brains level of naturally occurring endorphins and increases the production of serotonin?”
She chews thoughtfully for a moment, “So that’s why cake makes me feel so good?” and he giggles, nodding enthusiastically, “Got any more genius?” she asks with a grin.
“Did you know that chocolate contains the amino acid L-arginine which can be an effective natural sex enhancer for both men and women?” he can already feel his face start to flush, why did he start saying this, “It increases nitric oxide and promotes blood flow to the sexual organs” he finishes the thought and feels like crawling in a hole.
She’s got no idea if he’s just passionate about facts and chocolate, or if this is just his version of putting on the moves, but what has she really go to lose here. So she takes the opening.
“You got me.” she says with a coy smile, “That was actually my plan all along, to ply you with chocolate” she scoops some of the chocolate icing from the top of the cake with her fingertip, popping it in-between her lips and sucking it off slowly, deliberately. She looks over at him and his eyes are fixed on her lips and the finger caught between them. When she removes it to talk she feels confident that she’s got his attention now.
“Did it work?” she almost moans it and his breathing pretty much stops.
Working on instinct he moves his body so that he’s right next to her, leaning right in, and he presses his lips to hers. She opens them right away and he can taste the chocolate that’s lingering on her tongue and it’s perfect.
It doesn’t last for long, but when they break apart she picks up the plate between them and places it safely on the nightstand. With the bed clear she sits up on her knees so she can move closer to Spencer, throwing her legs either side of his and straddling his lap. The skirt of her dress hiking up in the process to expose the smooth skin of her thighs.
Spencer’s hands fly straight down to them automatically, digging his nails in and pulling her closer, further up his lap. Her hands end up tangled in that perfectly messy hair of his, making it worse, but even more perfect at the same time.
They stay tangled like that for a while, grinding against one another, mouths moving frantically, hands squeezing, pulling. Desperately seeking contact.
It’s when she can feel him start to get hard beneath her that his mood seems to shift, changing his position so that he can flip her over completely. Laying her flat on her back on the bed, one of his hands pinning both of hers above her head as his other hand moves up the hem of her skirt. Inching further and further until he reached her panties, grazing the damp patch between her thighs.
“Fuck Spencer” she moans out at the contact, encouraging him, and he seems to appreciate it. His mouth attaching to her neck, sucking and biting in an attempt to leave his mark on her.
He lets up a few moments later, releasing her hands mostly so that he could begin to undo the buttons along the front of her dress, taking his time to unfasten each and every one of them so that it would fall open, exposing her to him.
“You’re so beautiful” he moans out, his hands starting to roam along all bare skin he could see. And she could feel every little touch, but she needed to see him, to touch him too. So she sat up as best as she could and began to undo the buttons of Spencer’s dress shirt. With his help they were both lying on the bed together in nothing but their underwear. Lips ferociously working against one another yet again.
“What do you like Spencer?” it comes out as a breathy moan when she can finally remove her lips from his for a second, “What do you want?”
He’s caught of guard by the question, Rachel never cared what he wanted. He looks down at her, the erratic rise and fall of her chest, the way her lips were slick and a little swollen, and the pure kindness behind her eyes. For a second he thought he might be in love already, but he knew that was silly. He had to think for a moment before he found the answer.
“Control” it escapes him before he realizes why. He’s never had it before, not in his love life, not in his sex life. But now, now he feels safe enough to ask.
“You want to be in charge?” she asks and he nods his head in confirmation.
“Okay” she smiles, “So tell me what to do” her eyes lock on his and he swears he can feel his heartbeat all over his entire body.
“Turn over” is the first thing he thinks of, and so she does.
Flipping over beneath him, her face tilted sideways so he can still see her as she lays on her front on top of the crisp white linen. He plants a soft kiss at the base of her neck and slowly snakes down along her spine, coming to a stop around her hips. He places his hands either side of her, gripping her hips with probably more force than necessary.
“Up” it’s just shy of a growl, and she complies, lifting her hips up off the bed, bending her knees beneath her. “No” he breathes out against her ear, “Just your hips” she adjusts her position a little and can hold it just long enough for him to slide one of the fluffy hotel pillows into the gap between her and the bed. Tilting her hips ever so slightly. “Perfect” he groans right against her ear.
He continues to move back down her body, once he reaches the swell of her ass this time though he grabs it roughly, his nails scratching the delicate skin as he paws at her. She can’t keep her moan contained as it rushes out of her.
“You like that?” he asks, his voice absolutely dripping with lust.
“Uh huh” she whines into the pillows. He takes that as a sign of encouragement, taking his hand off her before coming down swiftly on her ass cheek, she could feel the heat of it right away, the sharp sting of pain it left behind felt way better than it had any right to.
“Ah fuck” her moan rips through her without warning, so he does it again, a little harsher this time. And the noise echos throughout the room, followed by the filthiest moan Spencer’s ever heard in his life. It gets a little muffled in the pillows but he can still hear it.
“Harder” she lets out, and it’s such a small little voice.
“What was that Y/N?” he teases, leaning over her grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her face out of the pillows with it.
“Ah, harder, please” she begs this time and it makes him feel so, so good.
He returns to his position behind her again, raising his palm and letting it come down again in the exact same place where a raised handprint was starting to form already. The noises that escape her are pornographic and he had no idea his cock could even be this hard.
He takes some time to remove her panties, hooking his fingers into them on either side and peeling them down along her legs. The first thing he sees is how incredibly wet she is, dripping down the inside of her legs already.
“Oh you really liked that” he teases, “You’re fucking soaking wet from just a little spanking” she whines beneath him.
“Want you so bad” is all she can manage to say. He moves her legs a little further apart fully opening her up to him and he bites his lip at the picture in front of him. Taking two of his fingers he brings them right to her entrance, sinking them in slowly, curving them against her walls as he works in and out of her at an agonizing pace.
“Fuck, Spencer, oh my god” her breathing is frantic already as she squirms from the stimulation.
“Good girl, you think you’re ready to take my cock?” he asks, pushing in a third finger as deep at they’ll go, her back arches into his touch, forcing her ass further up against him.
“Yes, Spencer! Please!” she rasps as he drifts his thumb over her swollen clit.
“Okay baby” he pulls his fingers out of her, leaning forward again he brings his fingers up to her, and hooks them into her mouth, pulling her face up out of the pillows so he can hear her little whines. She sucks on the fingers in her mouth, tasting herself on them and at the same time she can feel Spencer’s cock pressed up against her ass.
Once she lets his fingers go he’s bracing himself above her, an arm either side of her torso, and his legs between hers. He takes some time to line up properly, before teasing at her entrance. When she’s practically begging beneath him he sinks in slowly.
“Spencer” she moans out uncontrollably. He’s not even fully inside of her yet and already she feels full.
“So fucking tight, so wet for me Y/N” he gasps, the feeling of her warm and clenching around him is almost too much. After she’s gotten used to the feeling of him he starts to pick up the pace, each thrust deep and deliberate, hitting right against her walls every single time.
She’s nearly crying at the stimulation, getting fucked into the bed, his cock pushing into her impossibly deep each time, hitting spots she didn’t even know she had. And there’s the added pleasure of the way his hips slam right up against her bruised ass each time he thrusts into her that just makes it all the sweeter.
She can tell he’s getting close now, by the way his movements are growing faster and a little less controlled by the second. But she wasn’t far off either, she couldn’t take much more.
“So close Spencer, feels so fucking good” she mumbles out.
And then the does the unexpected he changes his position, leaning down closer, so he was nearly flush against her back, almost pinning her down with his weight but not quite. The angle he hits her from now is definitely something new, she’s pretty sure he’s hitting right against her g-spot with every motion and she can’t contain herself now.
“Fuck! Spencer! Gonna cum” she’s pretty much screaming into the pillows and he continues to fuck into her. He’s releasing himself a moment later, his head coming to rest on her shoulder as he spills inside of her. Riding it out for another moment to two.
They stay like that for a little while, collapsed in a heap on top of one another, completely spent. When he does pull out he’s so careful, making sure she’s comfortable, racing to the bathroom to grab a washcloth and whatever lotion the hotel had.
He takes some time to clean her up before any of the mess they’ve made can dry between her legs. Then he takes some of the lotion and smooths it gently on the skin of her backside, taking care not to irritate it. He puts on a fresh pair of briefs and grabs her a t-shirt from his suitcase for her to sleep in, and her heart softens at the gesture.
When they both snuggle up under the covers, completely exhausted, she takes him in her arms, cuddling up to his back and spooning him. He needed to feel in control earlier, but she could tell what he needed now was comfort, safety, and reassurance that she wouldn’t be gone in the morning.
“Spencer?” she whispers against his ear,
“Y/N?” he responds in kind.
“Are you free for breakfast tomorrow?” she asks, and he knows she can’t see it with his back turned but he can’t contain the sleepy smile that he breaks out in. He’s only known this girl for a few hours and she was able to read him like a book.
“Absolutely”
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natsukitakama · 4 years ago
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Being in relationship with Gojo Satoru would include
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Author note : got nothing to say about it. I’m his personal hoe even though I’m aware about what Gege-sama said. Let’s say I can’t be saved. It’s too late for that LMAO. Anyway let me know if you enjoy this ♡ (also I changed my head canon’s page setting how does it looks ?) 
Warning : slight nsfw / me simping over a man that would definetly not give me time / also I didn’t catch up with the manga (Japan’s scan cause we’re kinda late in France) 
Update : I didn’t say it obviously I do not own that gif credit to the owner(s) 🙏🏻
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a lot of work. 
As Gege said themselves they didn’t see Gojo being faithful or interest on a relationship (still hurt btw) 
But why ?
If we look carefully we can see that his relationship with every superior are pretty densed : he is absolutely against his own cast and I won’t be surprised that he is pretty distant with his family and the member of his clan. Which mean basically they’re not so much people who are closed to him 
He didn’t allow them to be close 
Again since he tends to be pretty narcissistic and is not afraid to threat everyone that might be against him cursed or not. 
So let’s say he got couple of ennemies. 
Then I remembered his first interaction (or at least of the first he got) with Yuta. We all remember what happened to that girl he was so deeply in love, remember what Gojo said ? He actually said that in his opinion love might be the worst cursed or something like that. Meaning he is aware about how dangerous love can be. 
So here’s the thing it’s not like he is not faithful (even though he is into one night stand) but he can’t allow himself to fall himself nor will he let someone falls for him. Because they will became an easy target, they will become his worst weakness. 
Especially since he is super busy it would mean that he couldn’t be with you whenever he wants to.  
So that would explain why he is not really into relationship cause he knows it would be dangerous for him. 
Also I don’t believe he was raised with love, I’m pretty sure he wasn’t closed or never seen any act of love so he is pretty cold about it cause he is used to. 
In addition his personnality is ... well he is piece of works. So it’s not that easy to fall in love with him (I mean deeply in love not just being attracted to his physics) and it’s difficult to make him falls in love too. (It would be for another headcanon) 
But now let’s pretend you went through his childish nature and he let you get to know him and boom you’re started a relationship with him 
He is clingy asf you know that 99% of the time he is walking not giving a single shit about people think about him. That man is so confident he knows no one would dare criticize him for being a clingy or boyfriends and if they do it He would claim that they are just jealous of him. 
Even if he is super chill about everything he would never broke any of your boundary. So if you’re comfortable with him hugging you in public or giving you a deep kiss that’s fine he will keep it for later. 
But that won’t stop that little shit for teasing you. Oh no. It’s even worst if you are shy, oh god he would do anything just to see your cheeks getting red. He just loves it. It’s addictive. 
Cause let’s be real, if he actually started a relationship with you was because he was way too addicted. Your relationship probably started with some one night stand that wasn’t just one but sssh. Then you started to hang out together not dating calling that a date because you guys didn’t want to put a name on it. Then both of you started to be territorial and get upset when one of you flirted with another. It last until You and Gojo couldn’t just sleep or think without being close together. 
He is like a sweet drug you know ? Once you got a bite you can’t just stop. Same way for him as soon as you got him, you won’t be able a le to keep away. 
That also explain why he is clingy he just has to touch you, simple touch deep touch intimate touch he doesn’t care all he needs was you close to him. 
When you guys became serious (put a name on it cause you were already a couple but whatever) the man became even more noisy if that’s even possible. 
He praises you a lot not matter what job you have what passion you’re followed anything. You’re just the best S/O of the entire world. 
Also he show off a lot cause everyone thought Nanami would the first to be in a relationship with a S/O  but he failed 
And oh boy does Gojo loves that. 
He can’t help but remind EVERYONE (including his students of those coming from kyoto) that he is dating you
« Aaah can’t wait to be home I bet Y/N would make those delicious cookies of them. It’s so good to go home to find your beloved. Oh yeah you can’t know that you don’t have a S/O so sad »
You little shit 
As I previously said he tends to not be around that much because of his jobs, but that’s okay he would make it up one way or another. 
I know some people believes that he will take his S/O to the greatest restaurant, or into those luxurious places. It’s true sometimes he just find you to have a good quality time but he also wants to spoil you so it’s good way to do it. 
But most of the time I think he might be into those private date when you’re into a little cafe or having a picnic. Again I don’t think he had the chance to enjoy those private moment with his family when you’re just enjoying the people you loved in the simple way. And he just loves seeing you cook for him it stroke his ego and melt his heart. 
I heard somewhere that he might be touch starved and I agree with that postulate. I do believe he wasn’t raised with love and tenderness so that would explain why he could be so touchy-feely with people and so that’s explain why he is clingy. 
He is definetly into carrying and simple person, he is just a giant baby he loves being taken care of he wants to have your attention 24/7, that’s just who he is. When i said simple,it’s more like not superficial cause he won’t tolerate that he hates when people has the audacity to lie in front of his face or believes they can manipulate him. 
A lot of people tends to think he is stupid or easily to use because of his childish behavior and he hates that. He has a huge ego. 
So he won’t like it if you’re trying to get something from him. If you want to say something just say it. 
Even if he is huge tease he would never judge you or make fun of you (not in a mean way) so he expects you to be blunt about your feelings. If you think he is an idiot for always keeping everything for himself tell him. 
If his S/O is a civilian he might not talk about the jujutsu world at first but then when he realized he was bound to them. Like he couldn’t breath without you he would tell you the truth. 
He kiss a lot. I’m not making the rules he just kiss very easily and each of them have a meaning. Cheeks kiss is to ask you something like buying an ice cream when it’s 4AM (use it with his best puppies eyes cause the fucker knows his effects on you). Nose kiss are like morning kiss, he tends to do it a lot after sex too it’s just another way for him to say I love you but in a cute way. Head kiss is to reassure you that everything would be fine, it’s also his way to comfort you when you’re sad it’s always followed by an « everything would be fine » or « I’m here now it’s okay ». Kiss on your lips could be a way to tempt you for sex who goes along with a bite of your lips of a stroke of your hair, but his kiss on your lips could also be his way to remind you how much he loves and how much he miss you. 
But no worry he is not afraid to tell you he loves you, but he just kept those works for special moment. 
He hugs a lot. From behind when you’re cooking for him, cuddle you while watching a movie or put you against his chest so you would climb around his body like a koala 
Nest your face against his neck and he would melt right now. The feeling of your breath against his skin damn he got shivers all the time 
Time to time don’t forget to stroke his ego like cuddling him and tell him how good you feel like you feel safe. He needs time to time (also even if he might tease you a little bit, do that and you’ll get extra kiss and cuddle time)
Also he can’t say no to you. Puppy eyes are useless just took his hand and ask him slowly to do something and he would do it. 
The problem is you can’t say no to him too. Cause 1) he is super convincing when he wants to 2) because he knows you can’t say no to his pretty face especially his eyes 3) and if you’re fighting his attraction over you he would use puppy eyes on you. So either way he got what he wants. 
You guys definetly got some « sweet » dates at 4 AM : like he just woke up because he dreamt about those delicious mocchi he tastes when he first met Itadori and now all he could think about was those mocchi. So he got you at 4AM to buy and share some mocchi together. Even though you hated being woke up like this you couldn’t help but enjoy the fact that he woke you up so you could share a meal together 
It comes from nowhere but you guys have sex a lot. He is horny it’s written on his face I can’t change that. He is intoxicated he can’t help it but need to feel you clinching around his dick, bitting your lips and scratching his back as he thrust into your core. 
He daydreams a lot and 99% it’s not pure at all
He sext you a lot even during a meeting, he just took his phone and text you about how boring the meeting is and how he wish he could just ravage you in front of them so they would shut up for once. 
He is pretty open about everything when it came to sex it’s not like you can break him or anything but he loves it every time you came to him asking for something you might want to try but be afraid he won’t be agree or might hurt him.
It’s so cute that you thought you could hurt him physically 
Somehow he managed you to have sex in his office which you were kinda up to it but he also convinced you to do it on a car as soon as ljichi left for a call. He can’t help it you were just so cute so tempting looking like this by his side and well he is into semi-public sex he just don’t give up a fuck LMAO who’s gonna say yell at him anyway ? He is THE Gojo Satoru. 
Not sure if I said it before but he won’t mind dating a simple human, he is just so bitter about everything his world is a mess so it’s fine that he can’t be normal, just man hanging around the personne he loves without thinking about his position about his clan, the cursed. Just couple of hours during his day where is just your boyfriend, he cherish that. 
It doesn’t mean he won’t date an exorcist, but it might be even more difficult since he can’t help but wondering if you’re actually into him (which is hard considering his antics) or if you’re into his position. But if you managed to show him that you actually didn’t care about the whole clan, position and everything yeah he would be into you. It would be more simple cause he can be with you 24/7 or at least as much as possible, and protect you even though you don’t actually need someone to take care of you. He just has to do it. 
He spoils a lot, remember how easily he would book a restaurant for his students ? Same things it’s even worse cause sometimes during a mission he walked around a new street and it’s like « damn that’s look yummy » and after being sure nothing could harm you (especially if you’re allergic of If you a vegan or veggies) he would book a reservation and then took you on a date. 
He does that a lot, since he can’t manage to have quality time as much as he wanted he just does things like that so you can share a meal together and also because he can tease you during the whole night then teleport both of you into his house for « sport » activity. 
Also he tends to buy some many things, like he could walked in Tokyo and see a grandma selling some candle he would buy it just because it seemed aesthetic for him, and now everytime he saw something that reminds him of you he buys it. So you guys got plenty of things that you can’t throw away since Gojo linked them with a memory of you. 
Speaking of things who belongs to you, he wears your clothes and you wears his, remember how easily he wore Nobara’s skirt he is pretty skinny he can wear anything and won’t bother asking you first. Just get used to it cause he doesn’t plan on giving up. 
I do believe that a relationship with you force him to be more « mature » or at least not always acting like a child. But let’s be real he would still act like a baby you sign for this. 
In the end it’s an healthy relationship even though he tends to be flirty sometimes, he would be careful if he noticed that you’re not comfortable, or he would make sure to reminds you that he is actually in love with you, he won’t go anywhere. No matter if you’re an exorcist or not, you would still be afraid that one day he won’t comeback, so he makes sure to spoil you, love you to erase that fear. He is the strongest and doesn’t plan on leaving you soon. 
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notanotherinfjblog · 4 years ago
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The types as strangers I wish I had known (version 4)
Previous versions: One, two, three
INTJ: She was the first person to show me kindness in a new place. Moving across the country all alone in the middle of a pandemic is not exactly the ideal start of your first real job. So she took it all on herself to take me by the hand, to organise all the things that I had no clue about. She gave me a little tour around the workplace, recommended me places to eat once the pandemic is over, asked me about how I was settling in, remembered little things I mentioned. She was the only person not working from home when I first arrived and so it was just the two of us. She was quiet and reserved as most people here seem to be, and she was awkward in every way when interacting with me. But she tried so hard and maybe it’s just me projecting, but she said her son was in the very same situation as me right now, and it felt like she tried to help me in the way she couldn’t help her son, like she wanted to take me under her wing, but not make it awkward, and then actually making it slightly awkward in doing so. Her heart just felt warm and so did mine when I said thank you.
ENTJ: Everyone knows the classic character of a self-righteous doctor in a hospital show. You know that one. The one that everyone thinks may be hard-working and clever, but heartless and uncaring and egocentric, but a few episodes down the line you start to see that there is more going on underneath the rude attitude. I’ve always believed this to be a stereotypical depiction that is more of a caricature until I met her. She was a doctor at a hospital I stayed in, and damn, she was just like that. She stormed into the rooms, rolled her eyes at a patient whose German was bad, even though she had a thick accent herself, couldn’t be bothered to commit to polite standards of communication like saying hello or thanks, and she didn’t care to wait for just a second when a nurse was in her way and pushed her aside instead. Especially two young nurses were exasperated with her and complained about her as soon as she stormed out of the room. They really made me feel like I had gotten myself into a hospital show as a patient, it was fantastic. And I have to say, even though this young doctor had all of these flaws, she was the only one that actually talked to the patients and explained what was going on, hell she even talked to that woman’s daughter on the phone for a few minutes because the woman didn’t understand the language. Just like on tv, she may have been rude, but at least she seemed like a good doctor.
INTP: My university department held a conference and I was responsible for making sure that all these professors and PhD students didn’t die from their coffee cravings, so I spent most of my time running around with giant coffee cans. And I have to admit, among all the scientists that were roaming the halls, I couldn’t help but stare at him. He was a PhD student from the Netherlands and there was just something about him that did not fit in. You know how professors are often a bit eccentric or strange by normal standards (which explains why we had to explain to an unspeakable amount of them how a coffee can works), so you’d imagine he’d fit right in. But he didn’t. He was his own universe. While everyone was networking, he was studying the research posters in silence. Not because he was too shy, he seemed very comfortable in his own skin. He just didn’t seem to care all that much about other people. I got to listen to a few talks and as he sat in front of me, I saw him play a video game. At an international conference. With professors and colleagues sitting behind him. And he still managed to ask intelligent questions about the talk afterwards. No idea how. Part of me wished I could have talked to him, not because he was cute though he was, but rather because I really could not tell you what kind of person he was. Was he a good person? A bad one? Probably something in-between. But I don’t think my opinion would have fazed him all that much, since to me, he seemed like the kind of person that valued his own opinion on himself the most, and I think that’s a good thing that he’s got there.
ENTP: I had just moved to a different city in a completely different part of the country, and I had just gotten back from my first walk around town. Sounds exciting, but I got back to this unfamiliar flat that I was supposed to call home now and I was panicking. So I stepped out on the balcony hoping the cold air and the stars above could calm my nerves. But it wasn‘t them that did. I stood there in the dark and saw an elderly couple in the parking lot. The woman was in a very similar mental state as me. She was running around their car and was talking about all the things they still had to take care of and things they‘d need, but had forgotten, and her voice got higher and shakier with every word. And then her husband just went and hugged her. She kissed him goodbye three times and every time she did, he let out a little laugh, calm and gentle. He pat her on the back and said that everything was going to be okay, that they would see each other again tomorrow. She kissed him goodbye one last time before she drove away, and I stood there alone in the dark and thanked the universe that I was there at the right time to hear this old man‘s words. For some reason he always seems to appear every time I‘m feeling low and strikes up a little chat with me. And every time he leaves, I have already forgotten what I was sad about.
INFJ: I think everyone pursuing an academic career has this one hero, this one scientist that lit the spark in their heart to dedicate their life to science just like them. I know I have one. So when I started an internship at his lab with one of his colleagues, I didn‘t really expect to meet him. I had seen him around once in a while, yes, but who was I to approach a stranger to tell him what his work meant to me? But then came the plenary meeting that was meant to get more people of the lab to get to know one another - and he approached me. He sat down next to me, asked me about my academic past and future, asked about my current project with his colleague. And I still can‘t believe it. Only a little girl singing in the church choir who is suddenly approached by Beyoncé can hope to imagine what it felt like. He was an internationally renowned scientist, he would have had every reason to look down on the rest of us. Many of them certainly do. But here he was, talking to a little intern from abroad. He was such a genuinely nice person, was sweet and slightly awkward, he even mirrored my weird head nodding that I always do when all the words have left me. He felt like a kindred spirit. I didn‘t tell him what these few minutes talking to him meant to me though part of me wishes that I did, yet still he invited me to the meetings of his research team even though I was not a part of it. And when I came and sat down, he turned around, smiled at me and turned away again, and I can‘t tell you how insane it feels that all of this actually happened.
ENFJ: I’ve written about him before and I will write about him forever. I remember the day our eyes first met in that crowded school corridor almost half of my life ago. I don’t know why neither of us could look away that day, why neither of us could ever look away again from this day on. Somehow our eyes always found each other. I remember the snowy day at the train station so many years later, how he stood there alone in the cold and how he slowly walked towards me, his eyes glued to his feet that abruptly stopped right next to mine. And yet he stayed silent. As did I. So we stood there for an hour waiting for our train, quickly averting our eyes every time they came close to meeting. I remember him looking back at me over his shoulder once we got off the train. He seemed quite flustered that I was about to find out that he had parked his car right next to mine and so he fled. Both of us kept parking our cars next to each other, even when we didn’t see each other for months. But I could never follow him out. He was my own personal mystery. I spent countless nights staring at the ceiling wondering what it was, this strange thing that was going on between us, this little secret that we shared, and I wondered who he really was inside, not who he pretended to be in front of his friends. He was like an island in their midst, always a bit detached, always tucked away behind a smile. Soon twelve years will have passed and still we’ve never spoken a word, but somehow these dark brown eyes still feel more familiar than my own, these eyes that always seemed to look right into my soul. I could have stared at them my whole life. I honestly have no idea what it is that is tying me to him, what it is that I felt back then and what I’m feeling right now. Maybe I’ll never know. I haven’t seen him in three years, but I know our paths will cross again some day. I can feel it in my bones. This story is not over yet. Maybe then we’ll finally be ready to meet properly. Maybe then we’ll finally be able to speak. 
INFP: I happened to stand at the window when I saw the new postman approach our letterbox, and so I watched him throw letters and magazines inside - and stop. He moved his head closer to the box and a frown appeared on his face. He backed off, wanted to leave, came back again and didn’t seem to know what he was supposed to do. So he rang the doorbell. As I opened the door, there he was, shy and with slight panic in his eyes. “I’m so sorry”, he said. “There is a sign on your letterbox that you don’t want advertisements, but I saw that too late and I had already thrown it in. I’m terribly sorry. I can’t get it out of the box and so I thought, I should ask if that’s alright.” And my heart just went awwww, that’s adorable. I smiled at him and told him that it was absolutely fine. He seemed so relieved. So he went away and I closed the door.
ENFP: This is for the man with the kind, but heartbreakingly sad eyes who sometimes sits in front of the train station silently begging for money. This is for the grandparents who spent their train ride trying to teach their little grandchildren the numbers from one to five. This is for the old woman who always kneels down in the middle of the train station with her forehead pressed to the ground, keeping still for hours, enduring the devastation of thousands of people passing by without stopping. This is for the woman who knelt down next to a homeless man, who took his hand and asked how she could help him. This is for the man who made faces at the little boy sitting next to him on the train to make him laugh. This is for the anger I felt when I saw the distraught face of a 10-year-old boy coming out of the movie „1917“ at the cinema with his father. This is for the happy little puppy who lives next to the bakery where I usually grab my lunch. This is for the twenty people who decided to all speak a foreign language during a meeting with each other just because I was there too, a total stranger they had never even seen before who is bad at their native language. This is for the creep that asked me in the middle of the street at night to accompany him. This is for the two teenagers who went to buy sandwiches and coffee for a homeless woman. This is for the families I often see sitting at the train stations, sometimes with a baby in their arms, holding a sign saying „Syrian family. We are hungry, help us please.“ This is for the man who yelled at his girlfriend because she gave them some money. This is for the people who play music during everyone‘s morning commute on the train. This is for all the people who approached me speaking in French and started to laugh when I apologised for not being very good at it. This is for Paris, in all its beauty and all its ugliness. This is for humanity, in all its beauty and ugliness.
ISTJ: He was sitting alone on the train, looking out of the window while listening to something with headphones. He was a tall guy in his mid-20s, one with a full beard, long brown hair in a neat ponytail, and a t-shirt of some rock band that I had never heard of. So, I was sitting there, three meters away, minding my own business, when I suddenly heard a giggle. The entire car of the train had been quiet all this time as it usually is, so I looked up and saw this guy trying to contain his laughter. He pressed the lips together, scratched his nose in order to inconspicuously cover his mouth. I don’t know where this sudden burst of laughter came from. Maybe he was listening to an audio book and reached a funny part. Maybe he was listening to a voice message of a funny friend. Maybe he just had a very amusing thought, I don’t know. But I’ve always had a soft spot for people who randomly start laughing in public and get embarrassed about it cause it’s always, always adorable.
ESTJ: She was a PhD student at my university and she was the one who mainly organised the conference that the above mentioned INTP was attending, too. And even though she didn‘t get tired of complaining about how much work this all was, how typical it was of her boss to volunteer to hold the conference at our university and then not lifting a single finger, she was like a fish in the water, not out of it. She observed everything and everyone, immediately recognised little problems or things that could become a problem, she was constantly running around checking everything, and she kept so many things in mind, it was impressive. One of the attendees sat in a wheelchair and as soon as she noticed, she made us rebuild the entire cafeteria immediately so that everything was reachable for her. And in all the running around, all the obligatory smalltalk, all the stress, she still found the time to stand with us student helpers and joke around.
ISFJ: It was 6pm on a Friday afternoon when all of Paris was trying to get home in the middle of a train strike, so the trains that did run were even more crowded than usual. I did not enjoy sharing 5 square metres with almost 40 other people. But then he entered the train and stood right next to me, leaning against the doors without moving, looking like an intellectual in gangster clothes. We were surrounded by noise of people talking and of rails screaming, by strangers breathing onto our skin, and he just stood there unfazed by it all. He radiated calmness like I‘ve never seen anyone do before. Soon it reached me too, filled me up and left no place for any distress or anxiety. He was like an island in the storm that grew and grew and grew until all of the 40 people around him were safe. I felt safe. I don‘t think he has even the faintest clue about how special he is, but I feel like it has been a privilege to have crossed paths with him.
ESFJ: Did you ever meet someone who, on first glance, looks like the perfect example of a jock, just a short guy with bigger arms than he’s tall? But then you look again, take a closer look at him and you realise that his face has goodness written all over it. He may be horribly bad at grammar for a linguistics student and he may be a bit too sensitive for his own good, but he never made it a secret of how much of a sweetheart he really is. And in situations like these, when he talks about how emotional he got as a tutor when his student told him about a dying grandfather because he felt responsible for the student’s wellbeing, in situations like these, when he approaches my friend after a class to apologise for his harsh criticism of her presentation and to tell her that he didn’t mean it that way, to which she gets all confused because she didn’t take the slightest offence to anything he has ever said in his entire life and he mumbles that he may have to stop beating himself up about stuff like this, I just want to give him a hug and never let go. 
ISTP: I saw her on the metro during rush hour in Paris, and I immediately noticed her to be different. Everyone else always only stares at their phones or into space, everyone else always look like a tired zombie. She was not a zombie. She was leaning against the doors, shaking her leg in the rhythm of the music she was listening to. She was short and skinny, and not even her punk boots could hide that, but there was such a confidence shining out of her, a confidence in who she was that made her look like a giant. She looked like she‘s probably had it rather rough in life, but it didn‘t break her. She rose to the adversity, rose in spite of it all. She seemed to be capable of so many things. Intelligent enough to go into science if she ever wanted to, vicious enough to end someone who ever dared to cross her, warm enough to love deeply and with all her heart if she let it.
ESTP: It was a hot day and far hotter than a September afternoon ever should be. I was stuck in a traffic jam in the city, melting in my car as were so many others, waiting for that red light to finally turn green. And then he came, a young guy in an ugly shirt and with a hat on his head. He started to cross the street, but then stopped right there in the middle. And he started to juggle. In the middle of a traffic jam on a Friday afternoon, he juggled. Just before his green light turned to red, he bowed down to the cars a few times, and then jumped to the sidewalk and left. Thanks, mate, you enigmatic juggling traffic hero.
ISFP: I met him at a wedding. He was a bald man in his 70s with thick horn glasses and probably the most intimidating person I’ve ever met. Not because he was mean, but because he was so confident in himself and so observant. His gaze constantly changed direction. He took everything in that happened around him, he didn’t miss a single thing that was going on, and still he was calm and sure of himself that everyone at our table felt like they had to impress him in some way. Just by looking at him you knew he must have lived an extraordinary life and he really did. He liked talking about himself. He talked about living in the American desert, on a mediterranean island, in a Buddhist monastery, and on a cruise ship. He talked about the smell of the desert at night, about the taste of oranges picked from a tree. He talked about the people he met, about professors and musicians, about cooks and monks. He talked about how much his village loved him. But he also liked listening to others talk about their own lives. It was obvious that he treated life as an experience, as a journey that cannot be planned or imagined, only lived. When we said goodbye, he looked me right in the eye and told me that he thinks it’s great what I’m doing with my life and that he’s looking forward to meeting me again some day. It felt a bit like receiving praise from a deity. 
ESFP: He was a nurse in the accident and emergency department at the hospital and the first person to talk to me while I was waiting in front of an examination room. He was only passing by with a colleague, but he stopped the conversation when he saw me and put his hand on my shoulder. “Aw, sugarmouse, what happened to you?”, was the first thing he said to me. You know, if an unknown man in his 50s is coming towards you and calls you “sugarmouse”, you’re usually not exactly happy, but he was just an overwhelmingly non-threatening guy that called all of the nurses and doctors by kitschy nicknames and radiated warmth wherever he went. He had noticed that I was nervous, and so he came to me and tried to gently put my mind at ease and I was really grateful for it.
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starglow-xx · 4 years ago
Text
owning a bakery and being discovered by the ada & port mafia (part 1)
platonic! edogawa ranpo x f! reader
type of writing: head canons !!
this is part of my head canon series, flour & fluff !!
tag list is open !! go to this google form and fill it out to sign up!
series synopsis: owning a bakery at 20 is tough; even more so when you have to handle members of two opposing organizations! this is your journey to meeting these fools and creating an unlikely bond with each of them! but only at the cost of your peace and sanity. 
fandom: bungou stray dogs
content: fluff & platonic stuff
author’s notes: this will be a multiple part series of head canons and this is only part one! this series will include both the agency and port mafia members, and then something special for the end. maybe i’ll even write a real one shot/scenario for it. if there’s enough interest, i might open up a tag list for this! i hope you all enjoy!! <33
also, ranpo is 25 in this part; kenji, atushi, kyouka, and the tanizaki siblings aren’t part of the agency yet, only yosano, kunikida, and dazai are, but in the next couple parts, it will be established that the tanizakis are
and (n/n) means nickname :)
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meeting the greatest detective
your bakery, Sakura’s, which you named after your late grandmother (who was also your guardian), went into business when you were 18 right after graduating high school
who needed a culinary course when you were trained by dear ol grandma?
your grandmother died when you were 16, just as you started your second year of high school
you were devastated of course, but you knew she wouldn’t want you to wallow over it too long
so in those last two hard years of high school, you took part time jobs at other bakeries and saved lots and lots of money
by graduation, using your life savings, the money your grandmother had left for you, and all the money you earned working, you were able to buy the small building—with a reasonable amount of money left over to survive— you and your grandmother had been eyeing back in her hometown, yokohama, to start your bakery
the building was a bit run down, but you were planning to give it a makeover anyways
it was a bit smaller compared to other buildings around, only having two stories, but on the plus side, the second floor had taller ceilings and was an apartment
is that realistic? probably not but bare with me here 
aNYWHO
you finished putting your bakery up in about 4 months, then finished up your apartment 2 more after
you opened Sakura’s at 7 in the morning then closed at 8 in the evening
when you first started, you did quite well!!
especially with those who went to work on early mornings and families
the time when you first opened was the most peaceful, but you admitted that it was a bit boring, and you wished for a bit more excitement
and boy, the day edogawa ranpo stepped into your bakery was the catalyst for the chaos and excitement that was soon to come
not that you knew that
if you did you would’ve never let him in
maybe
you were 19 when ranpo discovered Sakura’s, and it was completely accidental
he finished solving a case and was on the way back to the agency, and he—not surprisingly—got lost and then it started to rain really hard
it was pouring; there was even the cliche thunder strike and everything
you saw the brown clad man across the street and you ran out with two umbrellas (almost getting hit by a car mind you) handed one to him and practically dragged him inside
with the heavy rain on the forecast, Sakura’s was empty, so you gently pushed him down on a chair and you rushed away to find towels
even though the two of you had umbrellas, the two of you were still soaked 
finding said towels, you quickly dried yourself the best you could then you draped your towel over your back and rushed over to give him his as well as a warm pastry and your special hot honey lemon tea
ranpo laughed as you placed down the refreshment and snack, thinking that you knew who he was and was giving him special treatment
poor bby blinked and went :0 when you said you didn’t
“you don’t know who i am?”
“no. am i supposed to?”
“...”
the 25 year old blanked and you worried that you broke him and started to apologize profusely 
he cut you off claiming that he got over it he didnt but seeing as the bakery was empty and it was pouring pretty badly, he demanded you give him all your attention sit with him so he could tell you all about himself and what he’s done
the two of you got along quite well
you were amazed with all the stories he’s told you 
you honestly acted like a cute little kid listening to fairytales
he told you that and in response you threw a napkin at him
“wow ranpo-san! that’s amazing!!”
“you look like a little kid”
cue the napkin
he was happy with all the attention, praise, and sweets you gave him
the agency gave him praise sure, and made sure he had a lot of snacks but it was refreshing to have someone give him this much and your treats were the best he’s ever had
after he told you all his most interesting cases, the two of you just rambled about the most randomest things; going from the best desserts and snacks to the stupidest things his coworkers have done
you guys were on that last topic for a while
you two talked and rambled for hours, and when it hit hour two and the rain was still pouring, you just went ahead and slipped the “we’re open” sign to “closed” even though it was only 2 o’clock
you thought that this was probably the loving goofy older brother relationship that you missed out on
“ranpo-san, you’re kind of like the brother i’ve never had”
“and you’re still like that little kid”
cue another napkin to the face
don’t worry, he already adores you <3 
he just likes to make fun of you </3
*cuts you off as you’re talking to squish your cheeks* “(y/n) you still have a lot of baby fat and you’re pretty short...are you sure you’re still not in high school or smth??”
*incoherent talking due to pressure on cheeks* “ranpo-san you have 3 seconds before i kick you out”
at around 6, the rain came to a stop and by then, the both of you were all dried up
before he left, you gave him a map so that he hopefully wouldn’t get lost again and gave him a couple boxes of treats for him to have and to share with his coworkers
you closed early so you had to give away at least some of the remaining treats somehow
he wanted you to go to agency with him so he didn’t have to carry everything but you declined saying that you didn’t want to bc you wanted to rest
and for payback for calling you a little kid
you were 19 goddamnit
you already placed everything neatly into two bags so it was easy to carry but this bitch still had the audacity to pout and whine at you
and he calls you the little kid, jeez
you never told him but, you almost gave in
you never told him. but he probably already knows
ranpo san knows all after all; even you knew that by now
the two of you had also exchanged phone numbers and when the two of you showed each other what you each put for a contact name along with the note below, the two of you broke out into grins
you named him “the greatest detective <33″ & put the note “new nii-san <33 & bully </3″ and he named you “cute bakery girl” with the note “best follower, sweets supply & annoying little kid”
when he left, you properly closed the bakery and taped a sign to the door saying that you closed early for personal reasons
when everything was cleaned up, you marched up into your bedroom, plopped on your bed, and took a nap
you deserved it
at the agency not too long after that, ranpo had arrived and when he opened the door, everyone rushed towards him in concern asking if he was okay
he waved them off and walked towards his desk and plopped down in his seat
he placed the two bags in front of him and took out a box of cream puffs and started to snack on them
his coworkers watched him blankly as his scarfed down one after another
after finishing that box, he rummaged through the bags to look through the different kinds of pastries you’ve given him 
noticing that there were people still staring at him he paused before sighing in exasperation
he began to whine at his coworkers saying that no one told him it was gonna rain and that they were lucky that he happened to be in front of Sakura’s
“why did no one tell me?! it was pouring and i was soaked! you guys are lucky that (n/n)-chan’s bakery was right there! you would’ve probably lost me! how would the agency even function without me here?!”
no one wanted to be the one to tell him that they had no idea who he was talking about and that they did in fact tell him that it was gonna pour
they can save that, and their questions for another time
next >>
tag list is open !! go to this google form and fill it out to sign up!
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imonthinice · 4 years ago
Text
The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 3/?
Word Count: 1.5k
Author’s Note: Y/N - Your name, A/N -Any name (your best friend’s name)
Part 3! Date 2 is going to be underway with this one. Enjoy!
I had to change my pfp and my header cause they were being dickheads so just be aware if you liked looking at the batboys when clicking on my profile lmao <3
Warnings: Swearing, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd, Dark humor.
(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15)  (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)
Y/N woke up the next day feeling like she could take on the world, energized, with a new crush, and full of life, a stark shift from how she usually was. She was never normally a morning person and had a severe addiction to caffeine. I mean, the addiction was still there and she still needed coffee before she could go to her 3pm class and meet up with Jason again, but she was happy. She would put on her clothes and pack her bag before even getting coffee.
“G’morning, A/N!”
“Who are you and what did you do with my best friend?” A/N joked.
“Down girl, I’m just peppy today, it’ll probably wear down and it’s probably a once-in-a-blue-moon deal,” Y/N said as she started brewing her coffee.
“You got a date with Jason today?”
“I do!”
“That explains it,” A/N joked again.
“Says the one with a boyfriend,” she shot back.
“He’s not my boyfriend, we’re just hooking up right now, trust me, if he was, you’d know, darlin’.”
“So what did dreamboat ask last night?” A/N asked.
“Well I said ‘What do you want to know?’ and he said ‘We’ll talk about it today, maybe during notes or maybe during our lunch date, we’ll see how i’m feeling.’ so I think that’s good?”
“You kidding? You got that man wrapped around your finger, respect.”
“Shut up.”
“No thanks, I have free speech y’know.”
“Yeah you can say whatever, but I can also use my free speech rights to tell you to shove it, so, checkmate,” you sneered at her.
“That’s fair,” A/N paused and then changed the subject, “Have you heard Brutal yet?” she asked.
“You’re damn right I have, I wonder where that was for me at 17. But to be fair, I would still blast it now at my parents just to make them irk.”
“They would kill you for listening to that song instead of their Christian Rock.”
“Worth it, I’ll die swinging and singing.” Y/N mused.
“It really is Brutal out here.”
“Leave, get out, that sucked, blocked, friendship over.”
---------------------------------
She walked up to her 3pm class, to be greeted by Jason at the door, with of course, her new knowledge of the tabloids and their minions, she questioned why he’d do this.
“Hey, Y/N.”
“’Afternoon, Jason.”
“I’m trying to give the tabloids a show, don’t mind me.” he mused.
“I’m not surprised, but class is in 5.”
“Then I guess we should sit down and get ready to write at lightning speeds.”
She went to sit down, followed close by Jason. She couldn’t help but notice everyone was staring, but she didn’t care. This is going to be fun, she thought, I’m glad they’re gonna get a fucking kick out of this, she finished her thought.
Class went on as usual, with her scribbling down the notes so quick her arms hurt by the end of it, and Jason just sitting around making sure she wasn’t losing her arms to the writing, and casually laughing at the Professor. Then, the Professor brought up Barry Allen. Dr. Barry Allen and what he does for the criminal psychology people. 
“Forensics go hand-in-hand with criminal psych, normally we can tell, as scholars, from the hitting of the weapon why and who might’ve done it.” The Professor said.
 She saw Jason tense up a bit, and whispered over to him;
“You know Dr. Barry Allen don’t you?”
“He’s my uncle,” he whispered back.
“Well, be sure to tell him I’ve read some of his essays when I wanted to go into forensics instead of criminal psychology.”
“Really? He has essays?”
“Many. Very good writing. 10/10.”
“You’re going to make his week if you keep talking like this.” he mused.
“Good.” you mocked.
---------------------------
“So, you’re intermixed with a renowned journalist, a legend in forensic testing and you’re the son of Bruce Wayne?” she asked Jason, she couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, but there they were, all cards on the table.
“Yeah, I know this is all new to you but famous people tend to know other famous people.” he joked with her.
“Well that’s fair, I guess I kind of know Clark, I met him once at a office party with my mum.”
“He’d probably remember you.”
“Enough of your family ties, huh? You said you wanted to know more about me?”
“Yes, that, did you tell your roommate to pick up your car?” he asked her.
“I did, why was I meant to do that, by the way?” she asked him.
“Because, we, you and I, Y/N, are going to go for a joyride on my motorbike and try to get away from these,” he lowered his voice, “bitch ass cameras,” he grabbed her hand and started running towards his bike, dodging all the paparazzi who just wanted the snag shot of the two. They don’t even know my name, and they’re going off about this, she thought.
When the two met his bike, she looked over it fondly. This guy really likes his red, she thought, that’s fair, I do too.
“Nice bike.”
“Thank you, Y/N. We can ride this bad boy out to the country and try to escape the cameras, which kind of cuts into the lunch date, but hey-”
“That’s just the life someone famous has to live?” she questioned.
“You’re catching on.”
“I could have been a detective if I wanted it.”
He laughed and sat down on his bike and like instinct, she sat behind him and wrapped her hands on his chest and leant in. She didn’t know how to passenger a motorbike, but he didn’t say she did it wrong.
“You ready?”
“Jason, are you going to kill me?”
“Well if the shoe fits.” he mused.
“I’m ready.”
And off they went.
There was something about the way the bike drove through the streets of Gotham that she loved so much, she had already fallen in love with the restless city and called it home long before right now, but this was exhilarating for her. Somehow driving at 120mph was amazing, it brought out this feeling of freedom, something she hadn’t ever felt back home in Metropolis.
It’s worth it, she thought, it’s forever going to be worth it.
-------------------------------------
Pulling her off of his bike, the two of them laid underneath the tree on the small hill Jason pulled over by.
“Do you think we escaped the pap?” she asked him.
“Probably not.”
“Festive.”
“So, Y/N, it’s your turn to open up about your family. Besides your mum, I already know about your mum.”
“So, my twin sister goes to our rival school, the Metropolis one, I think she’s more of a people person than I’ll ever be. My parents are still together, they got married after they had my sister and I, so I’m a bastard,” she laughed, “I always like telling people I’m by definition a bastard, a lot of them get mad all like, ‘don’t call yourself that you’re a lovely girl’ and it’s just funny to me,”
He laughed, “You call yourself a bastard out of spite?”
“Am I supposed to not? I think it’s funny-”
“It’s pretty funny. I live out of spite too,” he said, almost like he was pulling out a bad memory, but she egged him on slightly,
“Spite who?” she asked.
“Spite God.”
She let out a laugh, and he seemed to let go of whatever memory he had clung onto to watch her laugh. It was clearly a distracting laugh.
“God tried to strike you and you just went ‘Nah mate, go away’? Respectable. I would do that.” she said while laughing.
“That’s exactly what happened, Y/N-” and his phone pinged, he turned it over, it was Dick.
“Mind sharing who that is?”
“I don’t mind, it’s my older brother sending me an article of us today. We really gave them a show holding hands,” he began reading, “ ‘Millionaire’s Son, Jason Todd, Caught Holding Hands with the Mystery Girl.’ “
“One day they will know my name. And it will be a massive article. Like a gender reveal.”
“Like a gender reveal?!” he said back to her, laughing so hard his smile reached ends she didn’t expect it to be able to go.
“It wasn’t that funny of a joke, Jason,” she said.
“It’s a better joke than my brothers and sister could ever come up with, Y/N, and they’ve had Galas to practice for,” he retorted.
“I’ll set it ablaze like the California gender reveal,” she continued with the joke, expecting this to be too far, but this also showed her that Jason liked dark humor, and she did too.
He burst out laughing at this, and she smiled.
“You have perfect teeth, Jason.”
“Is that what you’re focused on?” he asked.
“They are the forefront when you smile, it is hard not to.”
“Romantic,” he mocked her.
“I can be more romantic next date, if you want it,” she said, inclined towards him saying I want it. She was right.
“I want it.”
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b0rista · 4 years ago
Text
— 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄, 𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐀, 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍, & 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐎 𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐃. ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: language, because i can't form sentences without using "fuck" every other word JDJD.
𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: i only made this modern because i desperately wanted to include marco to the fullest leave me aloneEffsg. gn! reader, and i went pretty lengthy on this one so beneath the cut is where the headcanons start :)
𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓: bearbrickjia on instagram!
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by far, the best friend group to have. everyone balances one another out, and it's a perfectly imperfect mesh of teenagers.
there's jean, the group's centerpiece. he's the alpha of the posse, usually working as their own personal line leader whenever they're caught doing something as a group. he'll never admit it, but he's also the dad friend. of course, he's more of a "i wish i never gave birth to you oh my god please leave me alone also i love you" type than the stereotypical dad friend.
there's marco, the glue holding the group together. unsurprisingly, he's the calm, kindhearted support system that balances out the cokeheads, keeping them all sturdy. without a doubt, the group would fall apart without him. they need him, okay!! and by "them," i mean jean and yourself. marco, never change.
following up, there's connie & sasha, the wonder twins. their roles are pretty self explanatory, given their natural rambunctiousness. they're the two that hang out outside of the group the most, for obvious reasons. they're the crackhead siblings that bring life to the group, despite the hot water they typically land the others in. through their antics and their comic relief, they're irreplaceable. still, it's easy to want to strangle them sometimes.
next, there's you! because you're the reader, i won't name any specifics, but you're greatly cherished. you mark your place in the crew through various ways, having a unique relationship with each and every member. when he's in need of a breather outside of his typical nest (AKA marco), jean hits your line. if you're needing any kind of assistance with literally anything ever, marco's there to help. craving some chaos? bitch, connie & sasha have GOT YOU.
the main hangout spot is jean's house, 100%. not only has his mom practically adopted the whole squad, but there's only two people living there, so it isn't crowded. connie banned literally all four of you from his place, lmao. there was too many people there, and his family lives to humiliate him.
the group has this one policy, set down by yourself and jean: four piece maximum. this is directed solely towards sasha, of course, considering her tendency to raid her friends' fridges entirely of any food. if she's ever caught rummaging through a fridge for longer than necessary, it's the home owner's duty to shout, "four piece minimum!"
^ it never fails to startle her 😭. one time, she hit her head so hard on the fridge ceiling at jean's house she had to use a bag of frozen peas to soothe the swelling.
then, she proceeded to eat the thawed out peas. jean gagged.
the inside jokes? endless. all it takes is one word from a single event, and the five of you are losing your shit. it's cute, to be honest, how overzealous you all get from a single instance from months ago.
"ha. heh. hee."
"what is it?"
"ngGhh,, chEDDAR TIDDIES-"
"AHHHHHAGAGSHHDJF-"
if there are any inside jokes formed between two group members that isn't shared with the rest of them, there will be immediate bitterness. one time, you and sasha were giggling to yourselves over some druggie named jerry who'd tried selling baskets of rotten cherries to the two of you during a gas station haul— the boys were not having it. what the fuck were you doing without them, "friends"?
right before starting your guys' senior year of highschool, the five of you were on a group facetime when you all sent your schedules into group chat. due to the scarceness of your soon-to-be-majors, absolutely none of you had any classes together. you had a single lunch period with connie while marco had one with jean, but that was about it. it was,, a dramatic discovery. sasha fucking screamed.
"i have nothing with nobody!"
"calm down, sash-"
"you have lunch with y/n! LUNCH! that's my place, lunch. this is despicable, this is evil, this is a braus hate crime-"
yeah, she didn't take it that well. it's okay, doe. the four of you made a special effort during your passing periods, giving sasha enough of a fix for her to make it through each and every day.
it isn't like the five of you don't hang out outside of the classroom, either!! if you hadn't already made plans during that week, the weekend is where you absolutely thrive as a group. study sessions that always shift into exclusive house parties, lunches spent at your favorite places, the occasional visit to the movie theater, and so on. with a mini crowd like that, it's hard for any of you to get bored.
jean's hopeless crush on mikasa is a big factor in your friendship. when everyone minus marco (because he's an angel) isn't mercilessly teasing him, you're all trying to actually help the fucker score the girl. from talking him up obnoxiously enough whereas she'll hear, or flat out telling her to give him a chance, it's an actual effort. though, it's unfortunately all to no avail. shawty's too smitten with eren to even consider her options.
^ with that being said, the four of you have to give jean the "there are other fish in the sea" scoop more often than you'd like to admit.
group cuddles. that's that.
because he's the tallest and therfore the longest (probably, depending on your height), everybody has a chosen body part of jean's to latch onto during naps. connie has one leg while you have the other, and sasha keeps her head rested on his shoulder. marco's at the very bottom, entangling his legs in your own. somehow, this is heaven for jean. he'll never admit to it, though. as far as any of you are concerned, he HATES IT.
ranking from #1 as the best and #5 as the worst, these are the rated group therapists: ⇩︎
#1: marco. self explanatory, he's an amazing listener and provides supremely good advice. that, and he'd literally rather die than let any of his friends internalize anything they're dying to let loose.
#2: you. really, you're just a lot better than jean or connie. sasha's okay at it, but she's not the best at rationalizing, leaving you at second best. basically, when marco isn't available, you're where the freak shows go. marco goes to you about things, too.
#3: sasha. again, she's just a loT better than the final two. sasha's a sweetheart! she's empathetic, and nonjudgmental. we love her in this house.
#4: connie. also somewhat of a sweetheart, although not as much as sasha. he'll drop a shit ton of humor into serious conversations, making them just a tad bit more tolerable.
#5: jean. look, he's a great friend! however, he isn't all that empathetic, and he'll have some trouble understanding. still, he would try his hardest to make you or the other three feel better :,)).
in a modern universe, i know damn well connie's a half-assed stoner 30% of the time. he doesn't light up all that often, and he doesn't tell anybody about it, even you guys. mainly because marco will grill him for it DJFK. however, you stumbled upon his mini marijuana stash and he was like ahh, shit. you didn't really care doe, his secret is safe with you. you, however, now have DIRT on him.
matching bracelets that you all made for eachother yEars ago but never wear 🥺🥺.
many, many, many poly relationship jokes. only jokes, though. some people take it too literally, which y'all just laugh at.
there's a miniature rivalry going on between you and another nearby friend group: reiner, bertholdt, annie, ymir, and christa. of course, all of you are friends, it's all fun in games— most of the time, anyway. it's a funny rivalry, and you guys go at it quite a bit.
one of your guys' most intense debates is whether or not marco has freckles on his dick.
he,, refuses to show any of you, or even anSweR you.
"you act like we can't just check whenever we use the urinals, man."
"CONNIE-"
now, marco refuses to go to the bathroom at the same time as any of the boys <\33.
the group band? black eyed peas.
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bitsandbobsofwriting · 4 years ago
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Soulmate AU part 3: The teenagers slowly become adults;
Leon is endlessly proud of his kids (he’s long accepted that he’s a dad of three unruly teenagers now, and shares custody with Gwen and Hunith, the only other sensible ones), and Morgana and Merlin are abruptly made aware of their new... role(s).
Part 1   Part 2 Part 4
All of their birthdays pass in the next few months. Of course, Arthur’s and Morgana’s come with big celebrations, insisted on by Uther (I mean... Morgana had just come of age, and Arthur was the Prince, can you blame him?), but the gang put on mini celebrations just for them in the evenings.
Everyone got everyone gifts, and they spent as much time together during the birthdays as they could, even Gaius and Hunith joining them when they had time.
Leon was quickly climbing the ranks within the Knights, and was the youngest to be granted the title of captain at just 23, which gave him little more control over his own schedule. He worked incredibly hard, was a good teacher, and never took advantage of his post, so his fellow knights didn’t mind so much when he gave himself the occasional day off, for his kid’s birthdays.
The other knights had definitely picked up an Leon’s... older brother instincts when it came to The Prince, The Ward, The Servant, and The Physician’s Apprentice, and ribbed him mercilessly for it, but he didn’t really mind too much. Said kids certainly found it hilarious.
Morgana coming of age also meant an influx of potential courters, both foreign royalty and local nobility.
Much to Uther’s annoyance, she rejected every single one before even meeting them, insisting that she would marry for love, not because some old man wanted to suck up to The King.
It didn’t take long for him to give up on finding her a suitor to be honest. She wasn’t heir to the throne, so it wasn’t too important, and he knew how stubborn she was; the more he tries to set her up, the more she’ll resist.
Merlin’s sixteenth birthday came a few weeks after Arthur’s seventeenth, and Uther begrudgingly gave Morgana and Arthur a day off from lessons and meetings. Frankly, he knew there would be no point in trying to enforce anything, they would just ignore him and sneak out to see the boy anyway.
~
A couple months after Arthur’s seventeenth birthday, it came time for his official Knighting (he talked about it endlessly when it happened, being one of the youngest to ever be officially knighted, most aren’t knighted until they’re closer to 21. Leon had been very young as well, at only 19).
Much to Uther’s chagrin, Arthur and Morgana insisted that Hunith and Merlin have a front row seats.
He gave in eventually, after Arthur threatened to not turn up to his own ceremony, and Morgana pointed out that the only people in attendance would already know about the whole soulmate thing.
It was a momentous occasion, that involved huge public celebrations (which Arthur and Morgana, of course, snuck out of the castle to join in on, with Gwen and Merlin), and a large feast in the evening.
Hunith finally got a chance to wear one of her nicest dresses, and Arthur even managed to wrangle Merlin into some smart clothes (just a touch of red and gold, to subtly compliment what the Prince was wearing, of course).
Though Uther did insist on having them introduced as “Family of the Court Physician” to anyone who asked, which annoyed Arthur to no end. But he’d agreed to not go public until he turned 18, so he was just going to have to put up with it.
They had a great time, and even Uther loosened up a bit once he’d had a little to drink. He still avoided Hunith and Merlin like the plague, but did get tipsy enough to clap Arthur on the back, and tell him he was proud “Of both your achievement today, and the happiness you found with your soulmate.” which Arthur definitely did NOT tear up at, thank you very much Morgana, and which Uther will deny happened until the day he dies.
Despite having to hide their respective soulmates, the gang had fun. Once the food and tables where cleared away to make way for music and dancing, things livened up a great deal.
Morgana dragged Merlin to dance, despite his insistence that he didn’t know how. Arthur, Gwen, Leon, Hunith, and Gaius watched on in amusement as Morgana tried to teach him the steps in the middle of the floor, no one in the hall daring to complain (she was the King’s Ward, after all).
Morgana made her way through the group, insisting that Arthur danced with her next, then Leon, and then, much to Uther’s annoyance, Gwen and Hunith.
Everyone soon forgot about their worries, maybe it was inappropriate for commoners and servants to mix with royalty and knights, but this celebration was for Arthur, he could bloody well do what he wanted.
Thankfully, by the time Morgana managed to force Arthur and Merlin on the dancefloor together, everyone else in the room was too drunk, and too wrapped up in their own dance partners, to notice The Prince dancing with the Physician’s Apprentice.
Overall, despite the stress of feeling like Uther was glaring a hole in the back of all of their heads, they enjoyed the night. Hunith and Merlin felt, even though it was obviously much fancier, the celebrations were similar to the ones they had back in their little village.
They had greatly missed the Yule celebration that had undoubtedly happened at the end of last year in Ealdor, but this more than made up for it, and by the end of the night, their spirits were lifted, so much so that they weren’t nearly as homesick as they used to be.
~
It was just days after the celebrations, that Arthur and Merlin (choosing to sleep in Merlin’s bed tonight, so they could have breakfast with Hunith the next morning) woke with a start to the sound of frantic banging on the front door. It was very late, still hours before sunrise.
Arthur woke immediately, his instincts kicking in as he grabbed his hidden sword and made his way out of the bedroom before he was even fully aware of himself. Merlin woke up a little slower, but still grabbed his own sword and crept out of the room after Arthur, meeting a worried Hunith in the corridor.
Arthur gestured at them to be quiet and raised his sword a little higher as the banging started again.
Merlin ignored him however, as he widened his (now golden) eyes and dropped his sword. He rushed to open the door before Arthur could stop him, only to find a distraught Morgana shivering on the front step.
She was still wearing sleep clothes, with a cloak and shoes hastily thrown on. He eyes were red and she had tear tracks down her face, her hair a mess.
The moment Merlin threw open the door, Morgana falls forward into his arms, the Warlock only just managing to catch her as she begins crying again.
It takes Arthur a moment to recover form his shock, but he quickly gathers his and Merlin’s swords, dropping them on a side table, before mouthing “tea?” to Hunith and stepping towards his soulmate and his sister.
Hunith nods slightly, and with one last worried look to the girl who had become like a daughter to her, she busies herself in the kitchen; lighting the fire, boiling some water, and gathering together some tea leaves, the type that help with sleep.
Arthur manages to pull the other two inside, so he could shut the door, and he guides them to the living room. Merlin settles in a large, soft armchair, and Morgana follows closely, falling into his lap and continuing to cry into his shoulder, clutching desperately at his sleep tunic.
Arthur sits himself on the armrest, and Morgana gropes blindly for his hand, which he quickly takes, before looking to Merlin and raising a worried eyebrow.
Merlin just shakes his head in confusion. Morgana hadn’t said anything yet, just cried, and he had no idea what could’ve brought on such hysterics so suddenly in someone who was usually so calm.
He wipes all thoughts of his own nightmares from his mind as he strokes Morgana’s hair and whispers gentle words to her. She finally calms down a little as Hunith walks in with four cups of tea, and Merlin asks quietly:
“Would you like Gwen? She only lives a few streets away, Arthur could fetch her and be back in only a few minutes.” Arthur gets up, moving to put on shoes and a cloak, but Morgana croaks out a desperate:
“NO! No, I don’t want to worry her.”
She goes to stand up, but Merlin pulls her back down, settling her comfortably in his lap, as she fiddles with her hands and refuses to meet anyone’s eyes.
Merlin just frowns, still stroking her back, and Arthur speaks up quietly:
“What’s wrong ‘Gana? Are you hurt?”
Morgana shakes her head and looks up at Arthur, then Hunith, before finally looking back at Merlin. She gulps before she begins to speak:
“I... I had a nightmare-”
Merlin gives her a sad smile, knowing how terrifyingly disorienting they can be, but before he can say anything, Morgana continues:
“-but not a normal one. I’ve always suffered with night terrors, and Gaius makes me sleeping draughts but they never work. This one was so vivid. Like it was real.-”
She looks down to her lap, and Merlin begins to frown again as she continues:
“-I never really noticed before, or I just wrote it off as coincidence, but all of my dreams... they come true. And this one...”
Arthur speaks up as she trails off:
“Are you sure, Morgana? Maybe you just got a little muddled up, perhaps you dreamt about them after, and got confused?-”
Morgana looks up sharply, somehow still managing to look a little intimidating despite the messy hair and tears:
"Do you remember when you got caught by that mace during training last week?-”
Arthur frowns slightly, nodding as he rolls his shoulder automatically, still feeling a dull ache:
“-well the night before, I dreamt about it, that’s why I came to watch that morning. I just wrote it off because in my dream, it was Leon that hit you, not Sir Kay, but that was the only difference. Even the bruise looked exactly the same.-”
The other three look surprised, but before they can say anything she gulps and continues:
“And when we got attacked by those bandits? I dreamt about that a few days prior. In my dream, Leon was with us as well, and there were three more attackers, but again, other than the slight difference, everything was the same. Even how Merlin ended the fight, and the memory charm.”
Arthur collapses in the chair behind him, looking thoughtful, and slightly worried, as Merlin breaks himself out of his train of thought:
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Morgana bites her lip, before saying timidly:
“I almost did, but I just thought I was being paranoid; seeing connections where there weren’t any. But tonight...”
Arthur looks up sharply, frowning (not accusingly, just... worryingly) as he says:
“What was your nightmare about ‘Gana? I’ve never seen you this scared before.”
She looks up and meets his gaze, tears gathering in her eyes again:
“We were in a cave, me and Merlin. It was dark, and we were... not quite scared, but confused. And then a dragon appeared, huge, angry. It spoke, I couldn’t understand it, but Merlin obviously could, and they talked for a while. Merlin got angry, and then the dragon looked at me, and reared up and started spitting fire. I woke up just before... just before it burned me. I snuck past the guards and came straight here.-”
She looked to her lap again, before mumbling:
“Honestly, I didn’t even know you were here, I just wanted to see Merlin, because he was in it.”
Merlin pulls her close again, and she settles with her head in the crook of his neck as he strokes her hair, worrying his lip at her description of the night terror.
Hunith looked worried, and Arthur was deep in thought for a few minutes, before speaking up again:
“I suppose you two just... stay away from big caves? And if you find one somehow, come find me, and Leon would probably be good as well, and we’ll see what’s going on, together.”
Morgana looks up at him through her lashes, and mumbles:
“It felt... evil. Not the dragon or the place, but... me. Like it was justified in attacking me, like I wasn’t supposed to be there.”
Merlin tightens his hold on her, and his eyes flash gold as he grinds out:
“ ‘Gana, anything that tries to hurt you, will have to go through me first, dragon or otherwise.”
Arthur smiles comfortingly as he says:
“Exactly. As if I would ever let the two of you explore a dragon’s cave without me anyway.”
She looks up as she laughs, just a little, and Hunith speaks for the first time since Morgana had appeared:
“Would you like to stay here for the rest of the night? I can move in here and you can take my bed.”
Merlin shakes his head:
“No, she can stay with Arthur and I, the bed is big enough for the three of us. That way we can wake her up if she gets any more nightmares.”
Arthur nods and pats Morgana’s shoulder before going to their bedroom. He lights a candle, pulls the covers back, and places the swords back in their hiding places.
Morgana sits up straight and looks down at Merlin:
“Are you sure? I can make my way back to the castle easily enough.”
Merlin shakes her head, smiling at her:
“No, it’s fine. I’d prefer you to stay with us anyway. We can talk to Gaius tomorrow about the dreams. I was born with magic remember, it’s not impossible for it to have happened to you as well, we’ll just have to be careful, ok? Everything will be fine, ‘Gana, promise.”
Morgana smiles, and wipes her eyes as she stands up. She gives Hunith a quick hug, thanking her for the tea as she picks up her an Arthur’s cup. She follows Arthur into the bedroom, and Merlin gives his mother a worried look, before grabbing his own cup and saying goodnight, telling her quietly:
“Make sure your door is shut. Hopefully she won’t have anymore nightmares tonight, but I have a feeling she’ll wake up loudly if she does.”
Hunith nods, before whispering:
“Do you think she’s right? Is she some sort of... seer?”
Merlin sighs, looking towards the bedroom, before looking back and replying:
“I don’t know. Maybe. I’ve never exactly met any other magic-users, I only have Gaius and my own experiences to go off.”
Hunith nods, and the two separate, heading to their own rooms and shutting the doors behind them.
Arthur and Morgana were already settled, having finished their tea. Arthur was back where he was earlier, and Morgana sat in the middle of the bed, her head resting on his shoulder.
Merlin walks around to sit on Morgana’s other side, abandoning his undrunk tea in favour of laying straight down. Morgana and Arthur follow him, and Morgana turns over, curling up under Merlin’s arm, and whispering a quiet, teary “thank you”.
Arthur settles an arm over Morgana’s back, his hand intertwining with Merlin’s on the pillow, and Merlin’s other arm settles over her waist, holding her close.
The boys share a worried look, before closing their eyes. They fall into a shallow sleep, prepared to jump awake at even a twitch from Morgana, determined to keep her safe.
~
Morgana wakes the next morning having slept surprisingly well through the rest of the night.
Merlin is sitting up next to her, one hand protectively splayed on her back, the other holding a book in his lap. She can hear people bustling around in the next room, and she can see the sun start to peak through the curtains.
Merlin looks down at her when he feels her wake, and puts a finger to his lips, before whispering:
“Gwen and Leon arrived earlier to join us for breakfast, we haven’t told them you’re here.-”
Morgana frowns in confusion as she sits up, and Merlin continues:
“-I think you should tell them what happened, they can help, like they helped me, but we still thought it should be your choice. You can sneak out the widow and head up to the castle if you want?”
Morgana shakes her head, and murmurs:
“No, you’re right. They should know, I don’t like keeping things from Gwen, and Leon can always tell when we lie, anyway.” She says the last bit with a weak smirk, and Merlin chuckles:
“Come on then, I think breakfast is almost ready. Plus, some of us have semi full days today, so we should get going before we all start running late.”
Morgana nods, and moves to stand in front of the mirror, grimacing before trying to straighten her hair a little, and washing her face in the fresh wash-bowl.
Merlin chuckles a little before following her up, and throwing a jacket on over his sleep clothes. He waits for Morgana to finish, and allows her to nervously take his hand as they exit the room.
It takes a few moments for anyone to notice them when they first enter the kitchen, Arthur and Hunith cooking, whilst Gwen and Leon play cards at the table.
Arthur is the first to notice, and gives Morgana a smile, before looking to Merlin with a raised eyebrow, meaning “the truth?”. Merlin answers with a small nod, and Arthur smiles again, before saying loudly:
“Morning, you two certainly slept in, didn’t you?”
Everyone looks up at that, Hunith briefly smiling before going back to the food, and Gwen and Leon widening their eyes in surprise. Gwen jumps up to give Morgana a hug, which she enthusiastically returns:
“ ‘Gana! I thought I felt you close, what are you doing here? Did you stay the night?” There’s no accusation in her tone, just concern, and Morgana gives her a brief smile before nodding, and saying:
“It’s... a long story. Let’s sit, we can tell the both of you.”
Leon packs the cards away, and moves up the bench so Merlin can settle next to him, Gwen and Morgana opposite them, and Arthur and Hunith hurriedly serve up food before sitting down at the ends of the table.
Morgana explains timidly what had happened just a few hours previously, and Gwen grabs her hand as she describes the feeling of being deserving of the flames. 
(The way she words the sentence does make Merlin tense slightly, but only Arthur notices, and he squeezes Merlin’s knee under the table.)
Leon listens intently, and when she’s finished, he leans across the table to clutch her hand briefly before looking to Merlin:
“Is that possible? Could she be some sort of seer? I know there are lots of them among the druids, but I’ve never actually met one.”
Merlin shrugs slightly, and replies:
“I’m not sure, it’s possible. We were going to talk to Gaius, he knows more about this sort of thing than me.”
Gwen and Leon nod, and Hunith speaks up:
“Me and Arthur are busy today, and I’m assuming you are as well, Leon?-”
He nods, though reluctantly:
“-But why don’t you two go with Merlin to see Gaius? He’ll probably be more able to understand if you can explain it directly to him.”
Morgana looks a little tense at having to explain it for a third time, but Gwen nods her head:
“That sounds like a good idea, maybe we could... get into contact with some druids somehow? If they do have seers, they might be able to help.”
Leon looks troubled at that, but Arthur speaks up first:
“That could work, but only if we absolutely have to. I don’t want to put them in any unnecessary danger, by potentially exposing them. Plus it would be a long journey, we’d have to come up with excuses. I don’t think my father would accept any reason we gave for needing a few days off to leave the kingdom.”
The others nod in agreement, Morgana looking even more worried, but Hunith sees her expression and speaks quietly:
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary. Gaius knows a great many things, and if not, I’m sure we can figure it out ourselves.”
Morgana smiles at her gratefully, and with that, the conversation comes to an easy end.
After they clean up, and a round of goodbyes is had, Hunith rushes off to the tailor’s, and Arthur and Leon reluctantly head back up to the castle.
Morgana wraps herself in a cloak, with the hood up, and Merlin quickly gets dressed. In the end, they had decided that Gwen and Morgana would head to Morgana’s chambers, so she could get washed and changed and run a brush through her hair, and Merlin would head straight to the Physician’s chambers, and explain the situation to Gaius.
He was indeed troubled, when Merlin explained what had happened, in as much detail as possible to stop his best friend from having to recount it again.
He knew of her nightmares, and had been making sleeping draughts for her for years, but she had never talked about the similarities to real life events before.
Gaius mentions not knowing much of her heritage, passed her parents and grandparents, but even if it wasn’t an inherited gift, it’s possible for the occasional, naturally magical child to be born. As proven by Merlin.
Morgana and Gwen arrive shortly after, and Gaius gives the King’s Ward a comforting pat on the shoulder, before saying quietly:
“Merlin has explained what has happened, it does sound potentially magical, but beyond that, I’m afraid I can’t be of more help. I think the Prince’s suggestion of just being careful where you go is currently the best course of action. Might I also suggest that you stop taking sleeping draughts for a while? It might be that they are interfering with the process, making them more or less vivid, accurate.”
Morgana looks a little scared at that, but Gwen squeezes her hand and Merlin speaks up:
“That might be a good idea, it’ll be easier to figure out exactly what we’re dealing with if there isn’t any interference.”
Merlin’s confirmation gives Morgana a little more confidence, and she nods firmly. She’s never run away from things before, she’s not going to start now, especially when she has her soulmate, best friend, brother, and knight in shining armour beside her.
Merlin gives her a smile, and Gaius gives him the day off, encouraging the three of them to take the day to relax, and recover from last night’s ordeal. Merlin gives his mentor a grateful smile, and takes Morgana’s other hand, dragging the girls out the door, before saying with a cheerful grin:
“Fancy going to watch Arthur get his arse handed to him on a silver platter during training?”
~
During everyone’s lunch break, they explained the plan... or lack thereof.
Leon was a little... tense, at the idea of stopping the sleeping draughts and just seeing what happens, but in the grand scheme of things, there weren’t any other options.
A few days passed, getting less and less tense as each sun rose and set. Morgana slept peacefully, no more nightmares or... visions. It was still a worry in the back of all their minds, but it was no longer a pressing issue that they lost sleep over.
Until the fourth day.
It had been exactly a year since Hunith and Merlin had moved to Camelot, and they were having a mini, evening celebration at the house, with the whole gang there.
Morgana had gone into the garden to cool off a bit (seven people all in one small room at the beginning of summer... yeah it got pretty hot, pretty quick).
Merlin joined her and they chatted quietly, reminiscing about all the ridiculous things they had gotten up to in just one year, laughing about how many grey hairs they had given Leon.
The conversation halted when Merlin straightened his back, and took in a gasp at a voice echoing through his head:
“Emrys...”
Morgana frowns at Merlin’s sudden reaction to seemingly nothing:
“Birdy, what’s wrong?”
Merlin looks at her in surprise:
“Did you not hear that?-”
“Emrys!”
He gasped, and took a step away from the house, peering into the dark:
“There it was again, can you not hear it? Who is that?”
Morgana looks troubled, and takes Merlin’s shoulder, pulling him round to look at her:
“Merlin there’s... no one there. I didn’t hear anything. Are you alright?”
Merlin looks at her, confused, but tenses, and whips his head around again when the voice echoes again:
“Come and find me, Warlock, I’m waiting. Come alone.”
Morgana calls desperately for Arthur, but Merlin pays her no mind as his eyes strain to see something that isn’t there. After only a second the Prince appeared with a pop by Merlin’s side:
“Merlin, what’s wrong?”
Merlin doesn’t answer him, and he looks to Morgana, worried. She has the same troubled expression on her face as she replies:
“I don’t know, he keeps hearing something that isn’t there.”
Arthur looks back to Merlin, and shakes his shoulder roughly, finally getting his attention:
“Merls?”
Just then, the others walk out of the house, looking worried at Morgana’s scared call, and Arthur’s sudden disappearance. Merlin looks over the group, before glancing once more out into the dark street, before looking back to Arthur:
“It’s a voice, someone’s calling for me. They’re calling me the wrong name but... they’re definitely calling for me.”
Everyone looks troubled at that, and Merlin shakes his head when Gaius asks if he recognises the voice.
Leon lifts his head in sudden thought before speaking hurriedly to Morgana:
“In the dream, you said Merlin and the dragon spoke to each other, but you couldn’t understand them, right?-”
Morgana gives a nervous nod, and the group looks to him, confused, as he speaks again:
“Well, maybe it’s... like that. Maybe that’s how you and Merlin find the cave, you follow the voice.-”
The others look doubtful, but he continues anyway:
“I know it’s far fetched, but how else were the two of you just going to stumble upon a cave big enough to hold a dragon?”
Arthur nods at that, mumbling that it makes sense, and Morgana looks scared. Gwen grabs her hand, and Gaius and Hunith look to each other nervously.
No on really knows what to say, but they all look to Merlin as he groans, bringing a hand up to his forehead, as the voice echoes louder:
“HURRY Warlock, I find myself running low on patience this night.”
Arthur pulls him close, and Gwen takes his other hand, Merlin mumbles:
“Whatever it is, it’s telling me to go find him, alone. I have a feeling he’s not going to stop until I go.”
Leon scoffs before saying:
“Like hell are we letting you go alone, but we should see what this is all about. Lead the way, Birdy.”
Arthur steps back and tells everyone to wait a minute, before popping away. He reappears moments later with his and Merlin’s swords, and three spares, for Gwen, Morgana, and Leon.
Leon just raises an eyebrow, taking the offered sword, and Arthur shrugs:
“Pays to be prepared. There are at least two more still in the house-”
He looks to Gaius and Hunith:
“You two wait here, we’ll try not to do anything too stupid.”
They both look worried at that, but Arthur rolls his eyes, and says:
“Leon and Gwen will be with us.”
At that, Gaius and Hunith relax slightly, which everyone would find hilarious if they weren’t focusing on bigger things.
Arthur turns back to Merlin, taking his hand, and gesturing him to lead the way.
The Warlock leads them up the main road, towards the castle gates. The others are confused at that, they had expected him to start walking out of the city, towards the wilderness, not further in.
They follow him though, getting tenser and tenser, as he allows his feet to carry him through the castle, going further and further down. Towards the dungeons.
They duck out of the way when people pass, and thankfully manage to avoid being seen by everyone. No one notices them even as they move through the dungeons to a hidden, back staircase that falls deeper and deeper into the earth.
All of them frown at this, none of them had been aware of this section of the castle, all having thought the dungeons were the lowest level.
They reach the bottom, seeing a great metal gate in front of them, that opens to a large cave. Morgana gasps, and mumbles that this is the cave from her dream as she grips Gwen’s hand tighter.
Leon takes a deep breath, before stepping in front of the group, and walking slowly forward, pushing the gate open easily, and stepping into the cave, sword raised in defence.
Arthur and Merlin follow quickly, Gwen after them, holding a fearful Morgana behind her protectively.
They gather on a ledge, staring in wonder and fear at the huge cavern that stretches out in every direction. After just a moment, a deafening roar echoes from somewhere near the roof, and the group collectively gasp before huddling closer together.
That is, apart from Merlin, who steps forward, a frown on his face as he yells:
“Like hell I was coming alone. What is this?”
With that, a blizzard like wind whips through the cavern, and everyone takes a step back, looking fearfully up at the giant dragon that descends from above.
Merlin holds his ground, automatically gripping his sword tighter, as the beast lands in front of him, gazing at him impassively.
Arthur speaks up loudly, but his voice shakes as he says:
“Merlin... step back... come here. Please.”
Merlin doesn’t move, but the dragon absentmindedly moves his gaze to the group, making direct eye contact with Arthur before tilting his head downwards, slightly reminiscent of a bow, before looking back to Merlin.
The group moves slowly towards Merlin, unprepared to leave him alone, and the dragon grumbles again, in a language that Merlin doesn’t realise isn’t even English:
“I let you have your year of fun. Now you must grow up, and learn of your destiny. There are bigger things in motion that you could ever hope to imagine.”
Merlin frowns, and the group looks to him in confusion as he replies:
“You let me? What does that even mean? And how did you call me down here? What destiny? And my name isn’t Emrys or whatever, it’s Merlin, always has been.”
The dragon narrows his eyes, before replying, the deep rumble of his growling unnerving to those who can’t understand him:
“So many questions. You are the great Warlock, known as Emrys, the most powerful magic-user to walk the earth. Arthur is the Once and Future King, destined to unite Albion.”
Merlin tilts his head in confusion:
“...right.”
The great dragon appears to huff in frustration, before continuing:
“He will face many threats. It is your destiny to protect, and guide him on his way to unite the land, and bring magic back into balance.”
Merlin furrows his eyebrows. He was already sort of expecting the whole “bringing magic back” thing, but the official “destiny” thing is definitely news to him:
“And how do you know all of this?”
Kilgharrah takes a great step back, ignoring his question, once more looking over the group stood just behind Merlin. His nostrils flare, smoke swirling out as he huffs, and narrows his eyes:
“You should not have brought the witch. In another life, she was destined to become a monster, the hatred to your love, the darkness to your light. The risk is too high, she must be destroyed, before she falls once more.”
He rears up, and takes a deep breath as Morgana stumbles back fearfully, the group gathering around her protectively. Merlin rushes back, standing between the dragon and the group before he can exhale. He falls back down onto his front claws and growls, but Merlin shouts before he can say anything:
“NO! You want to hurt ‘Gana, you’ll have to kill me, and I suspect your precious Once and Future King, first.”
With that, Arthur steps further forward, to be in line with Merlin, and the dragon turns angrily, whipping his tail to the floor with a bang, before turning back and glaring at him:
“Her destiny is inevitable, none of us choose our destiny, and none of us can escape it. She must be destroyed before it’s too-”
Merlin interrupts him:
“I don’t give a FUCK about your destiny. No one’s future is set in stone, and I will never let you hurt her, especially not for something she hasn’t even done yet.”
The dragon growls once again, before leaning close to Merlin, he speaks in English this time, so the group can understand, his voice deep and gravelly, filled with anger:
“On your head be it, or more likely, your precious soulmate’s head.”
With that, he gestures a giant claw briefly at Arthur, before flying off once again, disappearing into the shadows of the cavern.
Merlin blinks a few times, and the anger on his face fades to confusion as he looks back to Morgana, gazing at her assessingly.
She looks terrified, and gulps before saying:
“What is it, what did he say?”
Merlin shakes his head roughly, and walks forward, gathering her in a hug, before pulling back, his hands still on her shoulders. He gives her a small smile before looking to the others:
“Let’s get back to Hunith and Gaius, we don’t want to be gone too long. I’ll explain as best I can when we get back-”
He lets go of Morgana and shrugs briefly:
“-though to be honest, I’m not sure even I fully understand.”
With that, he leads the group out of the cavern, holding Morgana’s hand tightly, and refusing to look back.
Leon and Arthur bring up the rear, and they quickly find themselves back at the house, having made the whole journey in silence.
Hunith and Gaius hurriedly stand and look nervously to the group as they re-enter the house, and grimly settle around the kitchen table without a word.
Merlin and Arthur look stuck deep in thought, and Morgana quietly sniffles whilst Gwen comforts her, so Hunith and Gaius look to Leon for explanation.
He bites his lip and takes a deep breath, before beginning to explain:
“Well... we found the dragon.-”
Gaius gasps at that, and Hunith frowns, worrying her lip between her teeth:
“-Though none of us but Merlin could understand what he was saying. Something about destiny, and Kings, from what we could hear Merlin saying. It wanted to hurt Morgana, and got angry when Merlin and Arthur stepped in the way. Then it... flew off I guess, and we came back here.”
The others, apart from Merlin, had started to pay attention as Leon explained, and when he was finished, everyone looked to the young Warlock.
He still had a deep frown on his face, and was sat exceptionally still, staring at his hands folded on the table.
Morgana gulps and takes his hand, shocking him out of his internal deliberation:
“Merlin, why did it attack me? What did it say about me?”
Merlin takes a deep breath, and stares at her, a slight frown on his face as he noticed the reappearance of tears.
He pursed his lips, trying to decide what to tell her. Risk terrifying her even more, by telling the full truth, but being able to work together to combat it? OR, only tell part of the truth, lie, and save her from the heartbreak, trying to help her avoid her so called destiny from the side-lines?
He clenched his jaw, before giving her a small smile and looking around at his family; the decision was much easier than he first thought:
“He told me about our... destinies. Apparently my real name is Emrys, and I’m a powerful Warlock, destined to help Arthur become The Once and Future King, whatever that means, so he can unite all of Albion, and bring magic back into balance.-”
The others frown in confusion at this, and he looks back at Morgana, squeezing her hand once more before continuing:
“-He said that... in another life, Morgana was destined to become a monster, to fight against mine and Arthur’s destiny-”
Morgana let out a breath at that, and a few more tears fell as everyone else around the table tenses at the accusation:
“-he said that the risk of it happening again, in this life, was too high, and she had to be... destroyed, before she got in the way.-”
Arthur stands abruptly in anger at that, and Leon has to put a hand on his shoulder to calm him before he started angrily yelling. Merlin gave Morgana a reassuring smile before saying:
“-I, of course, told him to fuck off, that he would have to go through me before I let him punish you for something you hadn’t done, and have no intention of doing.”
Morgana shakes her head quickly, like she feels the need to convince her family that she isn’t some sort of beast (that breaks all of their hearts a little bit), before putting her hands over her mouth, and tightly closing her eyes.
Merlin stands and quickly walks to the other side of the table, pulling Morgana up and gathering her in a tight hug. He blinks away the tears in his eyes at her distress, and pointedly ignores the painful stares of everyone else in the room.
Gwen puts a comforting hand on Morgana’s shoulder blade, as she once again finds herself crying into Merlin’s shoulder.
The Warlock tries not to sound angry (he feels the urge to go back down those steps and yell at the bastard, but he figured that probably wasn’t such a good idea) as he murmurs comfortingly to her:
“Don’t you worry ‘Gana, you’ll never be a monster, not to us. Pre-written destiny is a load of crap, our lives are whatever we make of them, dig your own path. I’ve got you, and I’m never letting go. You aren’t alone.”
She looks up at him with bleary eyes, and the others crowd closer as her next question comes out as just a whisper:
“Promise?”
Merlin smiles at her, and wipes away her tears, but before he can answer, Arthur speaks up, in a strong voice:
“We promise, ‘Gana.”
Leon gives her a reassuring smile, and Gwen nods her head firmly as she speaks:
“We’re in this together, destiny or no.”
Gaius and Hunith take the beds that night, as the other five fill the living room with various blankets and pillows. They crowd in together, Morgana held protectively in the middle, everyone else silently making oaths to themselves that they would never let her down.
~
That’s the end of part three!! 
I reckon there’ll be two more parts to the story, but again, that depends on how many different ideas I want to fit in. I also haven’t started writing part 4 yet, so it might take a little while longer for it to arrive.
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eternally-writing · 4 years ago
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chain reaction | jjk
Tumblr media
genre: fluff and angst
rating: PG
pairing: Jungkook x reader
theme: college!au , enemies to lovers, series
word count: 1.3k
warnings: light swearing
synopsis: A semester with your mortal enemy, Jeon Jungkook, as your lab partner was bound to be an experience to remember.
banner by me!
A/N: hey everyone! This is my first series that I’m writing and I’m so excited to share it with all of you! If you want to be tagged in future parts, reblog and mention that you want to be tagged in the caption, or you can send me an ask!
--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--
“You’re late”
Swinging your backpack onto the lab bench beside you, you glare at your lab partner.
“Shut up Jeon, it’s only 8:04am and our TA hasn’t even finished introducing the lab yet”.
Introduction to Organic Chemistry was all set up to be your favorite class. You were a chemistry genius in high school, your professor had amazing “rate my professor” reviews, and the class fit perfectly into your schedule, finishing right at 2:00pm so you could walk back to your dorm under the radiance of the afternoon sun.
It was all going well until you walked into your 8:00AM lab and found that due to budget cuts, all labs would now be done in pairs. And you had been paired with none other than the bane of your existence, Jeon Jungkook. As if doing an amide reduction wasn’t hard enough on its own, you had to do it alongside the biggest thorn in your side.
You couldn’t quite pinpoint exactly what it was about him that irked you so much. Maybe it was the way the girls tried to flirt with his constantly over the open flame of a Bunsen burner, or the way that he sucks up to your extremely old TA in order to get full marks on his procedural skills, or maybe it’s the fact that he somehow managed to look effortlessly put together at 8am on a Tuesday morning, while you looked (and felt) like absolute crap.
Either way, you were counting down the seconds until this semester would be over and you wouldn’t have to look at Jeon Jungkook again, but time seemed to be moving extra slow today.
“Late and spacing out today? Wow, lucky me to have you as a lab partner.”
Scoffing at him, you adjusted your protective glasses and readied your labware for today.
“180 minutes until I’m free. That’s it,” you thought to yourself.
“Technically it’s 170 minutes now, but if we don’t get started someone soon so we can hand in our product by 11am, we’re going to be here for a lot longer than that.”, snapped Jungkook next to you, already starting to mix chemicals together in a beaker.
Well, looks like your habit of accidentally saying things out loud gets worse when you’re tired.
“Let’s just try and get through this lab today without stepping on each other’s toes Jeon, okay?” you said, trying to catch up to Jungkook in the lab.
There was one part of chemistry labs you disliked the most. The waiting time. In some labs it was only 30 minutes, while in other labs it had taken almost an hour, but the constant in all of the situations was that waiting made it feel like time was passing at an infinitely slower rate. Taking out your laptop would violate lab safety protocol, and you couldn’t do any further steps in your lab until your reaction in your solution was done progressing under the fume hood. Since there were no other options, the only other thing left to do in moments like this was talk to Jeon Jungkook.
“So I was -”
“What did you -”
Yikes, add the awkwardness of starting conversation with Jeon Jungkook to the reasons you never talk to him.  You decided to pause and let him carry on with whatever he was saying, giving him a semi-pleasant smile to hopefully help distract from the embarrassment you were feeling.
“I was going to ask what you wanted to do our lab presentation on,” said Jungkook.
Your eyes widened at his statement. Looking at the whiteboard situated at the side of the room, you saw that in the 4 minutes you were late to your lab you may not have missed your TA explaining the procedure, but you did the big words on the board that said:
“FINAL LAB PRESENTATION: 3 weeks from now, worth 20% of your grade, done with your lab. 5-10 page paper and 10-15 minute oral presentation”.
Unable to contain your discontentment with the situation, you let out a groan and leaned back in your chair in frustration, almost falling off your lab stool in the process.
“Well aren’t you just little Miss Sunshine today? I’m not thrilled about this either, but I’d rather pull out my eyelashes than have to repeat this course again next semester,” scoffed Jungkook.
No morning ice coffee + Jeon Jungkook being annoying + a looming group project was more enough to make your head hurt.
“Can we just talk about this later Jeon? My brain can’t process this right now,” you pleaded as you put your head in your hands.
Leaning closer to you, Jungkook spoke at a whisper-level near your ear so nobody else would hear.
“Is your brain too busy processing my charm, sunshine? Don’t worry, I’ll try and tone down the charisma for you,” he joked with a smirk.
Your head went from being in your hands to plopping flat onto your (no longer sterile) lab counter at Jungkook’s comment.
First of all, ew. You don’t know how Jungkook was possibly picking up girls by talking like that. Second of all, charm and charisma were probably two words that you would NEVER associate with Jungkook, so his statement was definitely wrong.
A project with Jungkook meant that you would be spending a LOT more time with him, and the prospect of that happening made you wince internally. Group projects meant libraries, evenings, and , ugh, probably weekends with Jeon Jungkook.
You were snapped out of your internal despair by the sound of Jungkook’s voice.
“Hand me your phone.”
You froze. “Hm?”
“Well I don’t know what you think of me Y/N, but unless you think I can read your mind we’re  going to need to text to figure out when to meet.”
Giving in, you quickly tossed your phone into his open palm while grabbing his phone which was sitting on top of his backpack.
Glancing over his shoulder, you took a peek at your contact name.
“little miss sunshine? really Jeon?”
“Of course sunshine, i had to pick a name that encapsulated your positive and radiant energy,” he retorted, sarcasm practically dripping off of his words.
You definitely were picking your battles today, and one over a silly contact name didn’t seem to be worth it.
“You can do whatever, Jeon, but you’re sticking in my phone as “Jeon Boy” and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“We’ll see about that Y/N,” remarked Jungkook as he opened up his lab manual to read the next steps in the procedure.
Your mom had always taught you that the word “hate” was a very strong word and was only to be used in extreme situations. To this day, there were only 3 people in your life that you truly hated in every sense of the word: your ex-boyfriend, Jimin, your ENGL 101 Professor, Dr.Lee, and your neighbor’s cat, Mr. Whiskers, who chewed up your grade 8 science project the day before it was due.
You wouldn’t say that you hate Jungkook, but you were definitely getting close.
“Yknow, I don’t like you Jeon. Actually, scratch that, I really don’t like you.”
Glancing over at the timer on your lab bench finally reaching 0:00, Jungkook began walking over to the fume hood. Turning back to you, he smirked and started to speak.
“Well, the feeling’s mutual sunshine.”
Boy, this was definitely going to be a long semester.
--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--
If you want to be tagged in future parts, reblog and mention that you want to be tagged in the caption (or you can send me an ask)!
If you liked what you read, please write/follow! Thank you for reading♡
- Emily
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ditttiiiwrecks · 5 years ago
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OT7 Fic Rec Master Post:
 last updated (16/05/2021) 
If my master-list is anything to go by I am clearly obsessed with ot7, so here are some of my favs. 
Some of these stories are linked from Ao3. If any of those fics have been cross posted to Tumblr, please let me know. 
Current Fic Count: 25
Give all these amazing authors some love ♡ & To all the authors, Thank you so much for writing. I am so beyond grateful for all the work and time that you put in to writing these stunning pieces of literary art. 
This list is by no means complete, so if you have any recommendations, send em my way! ♡ Happy Reading!
~Love, @ditttiii  ♡
1) Void by @btssavedmylifeblr
Summary: You are the only female crew member on a 12 year space mission with seven handsome men. The sexual tension is real, y’all. 
2) Make You Know Love by @btsismybiass 
Summary: Growing up, Jungkook had always shared everything with his brothers; toys, food, clothing, friends, and even girls. The seven were inseparable — secrets were not allowed. Halfway through senior year, Jungkook was sent to a school halfway across the world, though he wouldn’t tell anyone (that didn’t already know) why. Years later, he has an adjoining apartment with his best friend (who is hopelessly in love with him) and 6 brothers he has yet to tell her about. One night, she comes barging into his home unannounced only to be met with a group of sexy foreign strangers.
3) Armed to the Fangs by @jingabitch
Summary: You grew up in the Hunter’s Guild, understanding that it is your sacred duty as a hunter to protect humanity from the vampires that lurk in the dark, draining the life from anyone unlucky enough to be caught. While making the rounds one night, you encounter Taehyung, a fabled born vampire - not that you know that when he tries to entice you into a dark alley. Next thing you know, you’re kidnapped and taken to their home, where you realise that all of them somehow crave your blood and seem to know more about your past than you do. Finding out about where you came from might be the key to setting humanity free.
4) Sanctuary by @softykooky
Summary: some people are lucky enough to be born into a family that loves them. others meet their family in a coffee shop while on the run from the korean ambassador, while they’re holding a man at gunpoint and beating him to a pulp for treason against their syndicate.
5) Eunoia by @wishesunderthestars
Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness ins’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?
6) Tangled Hearts by @writersrealmbts
Summary: You have seven hybrids and life with them can be both good and stressful. Some days are better than others, but in the end, you know that they’re always there for you, in more ways than one.
7)  Diamond Tears and Little Wings by @writersrealmbts 
Summary: You’re a fairy, taken in by BTS. You need lots of love and care, otherwise your light will fade and you turn to stone. Between the seven of them, you should never feel unloved. Right?
8) Rose & Thorns by @minniepetals 
Summary: a lone rose, a little broken, until Jungkook came along and the two of you saved each other. and in doing so, Jungkook showed you a world where he shared with his six other mates.
9) The Butter Series by @minniepetals
Summary: their names alone had every men and women turning their heads and falling at their feet. successful, prestigious, handsome, rich and untouchable to anyone that looked their way. and you? you were just an employee who worked for them. who would have known you meant so much more to them than you could ever imagine?
10) Stray Cat Strut by Bang to the Tan (TyphloticHaruspex)
Summary: When your grandmother passes away, she leaves her countryside house in your name. The longer you stay, the harder and harder it becomes to explain away the odd happenings. What kind of secrets does this sleepy town hold? And why do the local animals act so strangely around you?…
11) BACK HOME by @alexlwrites
Summary: : The one where, after living abroad for years, you move back to Korea and your old high school friend Namjoon offers you his place to stay while you get settled, casually forgetting to mention that: a) he still had a massive crush on you. b) he lived with six other guys.
12)  A Hundred Percent Human by Wrienne
Summary: In which you are forced to take care of seven hybrids in a twist of fate. After your estranged mother passes away, you're left with an unwanted will and the heavy burden of responsibility. Although you're desperate not to stray from the familiar path you thought was laid out in front of you with a fully human boyfriend who loves you more than anything, your life is thrown upside down once more after another unfortunate incident (that may or may not have to do with said boyfriend) occurs. Drunk and down on life, you finally decide to deal with the house and the unsavory business your mother left behind. However, to your shock, you find that seven very different hybrids are included with both the house - and the business. Seven hybrids you never even met before - even less agreed to take care of. Set in the not too distant future where infertility has become mankind's greatest issue. Will contain sexual content.
13)  I’ll Still Stay by @sugamoonv
Summary: Y/N, living in a society where hybrids are seen as commonly as pets and working a well-paying job, finally decides to adopt a hybrid for herself. But what happens when instead of one new companion, she leaves with seven? And what happens when nature decides that these companions are meant to be more than that?
14)  The Gateway to Your Heart by @justimajin
Summary:  ❝You gave me the best of me, so you give you the best of you.❞
15)  Like I Do by interlude__dream
Summary:  It's summer in Seoul. You didn't expect much to happen during your nights working at a coffee shop, but somehow, giving one kid a sandwich wrapped up your fate with seven hungry boys more tightly than you could have ever imagined.
16)  w e a r e a l l m a d h e r e by cath_mg
Summary: In which you're a model student who just managed to catch not just one, not two, but all seven 'transfer students' who just happened to visit your university.At the end of the road, will you stay or will you run? Or...
17)  Follow Me Down by ARMY_BRAT
Summary:  It was supposed to be a simple vacation to a foreign land. You certainly didn’t expect to wake up drugged and caged like an animal in the basement of seven beautiful men.
18)  Sharing is Caring by always_bias_wrecked
Summary:  You decide to let the rest of Bangtan watch you and your boyfriend Jimin have sex one time. Now suddenly everyone seems to want a piece of you, and Jimin doesn't seem to mind sharing.
19)  Ruin Me, I Dare You. by porcelainbones
Summary: Where a regular wannabe author discovers the members of the biggest band in the world are her soulmates. All Seven. (not a reader insert)
20) Abundance by @angelicyoongie
Summary: You never expected that you would end up adopting a hybrid, and if someone had told you that you would end up with seven? Well, you would have thought they were crazy. But here you are, with three different packs of hybrids that don’t get along – but all want to stay with you. Yeah, it turns out crazy is an understatement.
21) You Never Walk Alone by @agustdakasuga
Summary: You live a quiet life in your late grandfather’s cabin in the woods. You go to school just to graduate and get your diploma, not to make friends or stand out from the crowd. That was until one day, you enter your home to see a pack of wolves that need shelter.
22)  Accidental Friends by erakun
Summary:  Meet Bangtan, international superstars, the pride of South Korea, the love and hope in the dark of many lives, the role model and celebrity crush of so many people, and a group of people you often stumble across in your day to day life. You become acquaintances, slowly become friends, and- that's it. You are in a platonic friendship with Bangtan. Let me say it again. *clears throat* PLATONIC.
23)  Lifeline by @forgottenpasta
Summary: What happens when a witch curses seven vampires to share one fated mate between them?
24) Restitution  by @cloudteawrites 
Summary: When an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is.
25) The Lore of the Forest by spield
Summary: Nothing ancient and magical is ever really lost. When the descendants and heirs of the myths and legends come together to live a normal life, something - someone - is thrown into their plans. Bringing with them aid, magic and so much more.
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theclockworkmonk · 4 years ago
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Out of the Mouths of Babes — Chapter 4
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Chapter 1 on Tumblr
Chapter 2 on Tumblr
Chapter 3 on Tumblr
Written for Hinny Ficfest 2021
Prompt: “Uncle Ron said something about Harry knocking Ginny up, but I don’t know what he means,” Teddy said.
*******
Ginny had disappeared, dragged through the kitchen door, before Harry could come up with an excuse to keep her by his side. He sighed and took a long gulp from his glass of firewhiskey, welcoming the burning sensation down his throat. Whatever his family was so wound up about, Harry knew he wasn't in danger here, so he hoped the drink would dull his overactive auror instincts so he could enjoy the evening.
"So...how's the shop?" asked Harry, choosing to focus on George, "any accidental new body parts I can't see?"
"Harry, I'll have you know that we ascribe to only the highest of safety standards at Weasley Wizard Wheezes," said George with his nose in the air, "We strictly adhere to a dual-fault system to make sure a trained wizard is on-site to intervene in case of emergency."
"By that he means that he doesn't try any weird shit on himself without me there to rush him to St. Mungo's," said Ron with his mouth full, wincing as his mother smacked him in the back of the head with a wooden spoon for his language.
Harry's eyes narrowed at his best friend. "So you two are already partners now? Really wasting no time on bailing on me, aren't you?"
"Don't be a prat!" grumbled Ron. "No, like I said, it was just a thought that I had. You know, the kind of thought you would hope you could share with your best mate without him jumping down your throat?"
"Well I think it's a marvelous idea," Mrs. Weasley announced loudly from her place at the stove."
George's eyebrows shot up. "Who are you and what have you done with my mother? You're glad that another one of your sons is considering wasting his life at this silly business, instead of a respectable job at the Ministry?"
"Well, if said Ministry job involves chasing after Death Eaters every day," huffed Mrs. Weasley, "Then I suppose my nerves will take any alternative."
She sent a stern look towards Harry and pointed a threatening spoon at him, making him jump back. "You could do well to learn from Ron in that regard, Harry."
Ron was grinning ear to ear, bouncing in his seat from being the favorite child of the moment.
"There's nothing wrong with Ron doing the responsible thing." she lowered her voice to a grumble so Harry barely heard, "at least someone is."
Harry surveyed the tense atmosphere in the room again.
"Okay, what's got everyone in such a mood?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
"No one's in a mood!" said Mrs. Weasley quickly.
"Harry," Mr. Weasley spoke up for the first time, and his voice too was less assuring than Harry usually found it. "I'm having trouble with a fascinating new muggle device I've discovered, would you mind giving me a hand out in the shed?"
"Oh. Sure," said Harry easily. Mr. Weasley got up from the table and led Harry outside. They entered the man's infamous tool shed, and Harry noticed new mechanical and electronic devices in various states of disassembly. Mr. Weasley gestured to his work table, where a VCR sat.
"I've heard that muggles use this to see recorded images, like a pensieve, but I've put in those black blocks, and nothing happens."
"Oh, well," said Harry, trying not to laugh, "You need to attach it to a television. It can't just work on its—"
He was interrupted by the door opening again, and Harry was surprised to see Mrs. Weasley entering the shed which he always knew her to avoid, wanting nothing to do with her husband's "nonsense" tinkering.
"Molly, what are you doing here?" Mr. Weasley asked crossly, "We agreed we wouldn't. The boys—"
"I told them I was getting apples from the orchard," his wife said dismissively. She crossed the shed and looked beseechingly at a very surprised Harry.
"Harry, dear, you know how we think of you as a part of this family. We've been wanting to say….we hope that you don't think that has changed because of you and Ginny's relationship. We know young men have trepidation about 'the girlfriend's parents,' but you're not just our daughter's boyfriend to us, you're one of our own."
Harry was as touched as he was confused. "Th-Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," he said softly. "I can't tell you how much that means to me."
"And one reason we had no objection to you and Ginny dating," Mr. Weasley continued, "is that we trust you to always do right by Ginny. To always do what's best for her."
Harry looked back and forth between them, their expressions pointed and expecting.
"Well — ehem — I'll remember that. I promise to never do anything to hurt her." He meant it.
There was another moment of silence before Mrs. Weasley spoke up again.
"Sooooo…." she prompted. "We just want you to be aware that….should you decide to propose…you wouldn't have to worry—"
"What!?" Harry's heart leapt into his throat and he knew his face had turned scarlet. "Oh, no no," he said, putting his hands up. "I'm glad to have your blessing, but we're not ready to think about that yet."
Harry rubbed his neck nervously. It was only a half-lie. In truth, Harry was ready to think about that. He thought about proposing to Ginny damn near every day, in fact. But he was fairly certain that Ginny was still years away from being ready. She was fiercely proud of her independence and she was still dealing with the papers referring to her as "Harry Potter's girlfriend" before "star Harpies Chaser," even without marriage.
Mr. Weasley sighed in what seemed like disappointment and Mrs. Weasley's mouth thinned and her expression turned sour.
"Well...the roast should be done, we should all head back inside."
The Weasleys led the way out of the shed and Harry cautiously followed them. When they arrived back in the kitchen, Harry saw Bill shoot his father a stern, questioning look, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Mr. Weasley shake his head grimly, and Bill and Charlie gave Harry a glare that would make Mad-Eye Moody quake in his boots.
Harry froze and all the breath left his body. It suddenly all made sense. He was the thing that the Weasleys were so on edge about. Ginny's parents inquiring about him marrying her.
They had somehow found out that he and Ginny were living together.
Harry suddenly felt like a sheep in a cage with several wolves.
"Hey mum," said Charlie, "while you were outside, Aunt Muriel floo-called and said that the gnomes are in her attic again. Apparently she's upset at the way dad tried to take care of it last time."
"Is she sure it's actually the gnomes, or is it the doxies nesting in her hair?" Mr. Weasley grumbled as his wife shooed him into their sitting room and through their fireplace. Harry's heart was thudding in his chest as the few Weasleys he could count on to not murder him due to this secret getting out abandoned him with the curse breaker, dragon tamer, master prankster, and Ministry power-broker.
Several murderous eyes turned towards Harry.
"Look...er…" Harry stammered. "I really thought that, after everything, we had all moved past the whole 'overprotective big brothers' routine."
"Yeah, we thought we had too," said Charlie darkly, "but mum and dad's diplomatic approach clearly didn't work, so the gloves are off. I guess we never figured that the savior of the bloody wizarding world would do this to our sister."
George snorted, still finding this whole thing quite amusing. "Sorry, do this to her? Harry's the real victim here. Ginny's a nightmare already, can you imagine what living with her will be like now?"
"What the hell are you lot talking about?" Ron cut in, looking around the room in confusion.
"I think your brothers have become aware of me and Ginny's...status change," said Harry.
"Oh, that is just so typical!" huffed Hermione, crossing her arms and adopting her lecturing pose. "Ginny is perfectly capable of handling her own life and she doesn't need a bunch of chest-beating men to defend an outdated notion of her 'honour!' I still can't believe how sexist magical society can be sometimes."
"Yes, Hermione, our world is sexist, whether we like it or not" said Bill, not backing down. "You can pontificate all you want about how it's not right, or a double standard, but once the public finds out about this — and sooner or later, they will," he shot another glare at Harry, as if he wrote to the papers about it himself, "then it will change how people see her. And since she's a Quidditch star, the way people see her matters."
"Yup, can see the headlines now," George sighed dramatically, "the ambitious social climber Ginevra Weasley, raised in a pauper's home, so she used her feminine wiles to land herself this sweet gig."
"Look, ultimately, it's none of our business — no, I'm serious!" Ron finished in response to his brothers' looks of betrayal. "Look, Bill, Charlie, you two were only around when Ginny was a little girl. You didn't go to school with her. You never saw first-hand what happens when you try to meddle in her life to defend her virtue, trust me." He shivered a bit, as he remembered the traumatic memory.
"I don't even understand why we have to meddle," said Percy, "I just don't understand your logic, Harry. There's no question you would be willing to throw yourself into mortal danger all over again to protect Ginny. What you're hesitating to do is comparatively easy."
"His reasons don't matter, he should have thought of that earlier," said Charlie, pointing a threatening finger at Harry. "I don't care if this makes me a hypocrite, but you're going to do the right thing and—"
Ginny suddenly burst into the room, causing every word to fall silent. Harry knew that Ginny always hated it when people were obviously talking about her, but as he started towards her, he was surprised when he saw that her eyes were watery with tears. Ignoring all of the eyes on her, she ran straight towards Hermione, throwing her arms around her friend.
"Erm, is something wrong?" asked Hermione. She threw a questioning look to Fleur as she followed Ginny into the kitchen, but the young mother looked just as confused as anyone as she took Victoire back from Bill.
Instead of answering Hermione's question, Ginny withdrew from the hug and smacked Ron upside the head.
"Ah! What the shit!" Ron cried, rubbing the back of his head.
"Ronald, language!" scolded Mrs. Weasley, re-entering the kitchen along with her husband, making the room quite crowded.
"That's your main concern?" asked Ron, "Not the unwarranted physical assault?"
"It's not unwarranted, it's for being a stupid, forgetful git!" barked Ginny
She walked up to Harry and took his glass of firewhiskey, still mostly intact.
"I need this more than you," she informed him, and began to raise the glass to her lips.
"GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY!"
Mrs. Weasley's ear-piercing shriek caused everyone in the room to wince, and Ginny momentarily jumped behind Harry for protection. "Merlin's balls, WHAT!?"
"Molly…" Mr. Weasley cautioned.
"DO NOT 'MOLLY' ME, ARTHUR!" his wife shouted back. She had a crazed look in her eye and she was pulling at her hair. She rounded on Harry and Ginny.
"We have tried to be respectful, but you two are clearly not ready for this kind of responsibility! I am so disappointed in you both for not taking this more seriously! You haven't even given a thought to how this will affect your careers!"
"Our careers?" asked Harry, confused. "How would that possibly—"
Suddenly, everything clicked into place. He had gotten it completely wrong about what the Weasleys were talking about. The talk about responsibility, their careers, affects to Ginny's public image.
Somehow, the family had gotten word about the "honour" bestowed upon Harry by the Wizengamot, and all the implications that had for his and Ginny's future together. He supposed it wasn't too surprising that Arthur or Percy had heard about it through their Ministry connections.
He looked sideways at Ginny, and from one look he knew that she had come to the same realization. Both their faces split into wide grins as relief flooded through them that all of this drama was over something so silly. Apparently, the family somehow had the absurd idea that Harry would keep the title and actually take the status, power, and responsibilities being offered to him.
Harry and Ginny cracked up into delirious laughter, leaning on each other for support, which did nothing to help the livid look on Mrs. Weasley's face.
"Oh Merlin's beard, is that what has you all concerned? Don't worry about that," laughed Harry, waving one hand dismissively and wrapping the other around Ginny's shoulder.
"I mean, come on, we're obviously not keeping it!"
There was a moment of silence, then the entire kitchen exploded.
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jjkpls · 4 years ago
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Mean Yoongi 4 - Finale (M)
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> genre : angst (a hell of a lot), smut
> pairing : min yoongi x reader (f)
> total words : 11k+
> warnings/content : takes place post rona quarantine, explicit sexual content (bj, fingering, dirty talk, lowkey cum play), bad writing (it’s been a while, i hope you don’t feel the struggle too much)
> summary : You haven’t talked to Yoongi in so long, now that you’re allowed to see him again, you’re not sure how to do it anymore.
> previous
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"Your hair has grown a lot."
I don't say anything. I stare, probably a bit cold, I don't make an effort to answer. There's a lot of things to say but no words seem right. Her attempt sucks anyway. I can tell, from the way she nibbles on her bottom lip, eyes shying away, that she thinks the same.
The moment is filled with tension. The bad kind of tension. She's fidgety, feeling awkward. I feel it too but I'm better at hiding it. I've always been. Sitting back in my chair, observing her attentively, I can't help my insides from twisting on themselves, my heart from squeezing painfully in my chest. She's the same, mostly. With a shadow under the eyes she didn't use to have, a pallor I hate on her cheeks -usually painted that lovely shade of crimson, whenever I'm here to watch, as if the colour exists only for me- a slump in her stance. I wonder what I'm like to her. My hair's changed, as she mentioned. It's quite long, it's grown indeed, and enough for my natural colour to take over my whole head. I am tired, both in body and mind. So much so, I don't find the energy to tease her like I would before. And maybe, that's the biggest thing that's changed about me, and this sole thing is turning me into someone else entirely. I may as well be a whole someone else. Not the man who used to, every now and then, sprinkle glimpses of an awkward grin I've never gotten used to wearing but that I know, she loves. Certainly not the one who teased her with a relationship she could graze but not catch, with my fingers deep in her cunt, using crude and harsh words foreign to my lips straight in her ear, because she secretly loves it. Dancing on her feet, playing with her own fingers, gesticulating and waiting, hoping for an easy way out to manifest somehow. Probably for me to grant it to her because no matter how difficult I make myself to be, I've always been good at that. Dictate and guide how things go between us. I am sweet even if I wouldn't ever admit it aloud and it's been convenient, always, for her. I'm sort of curious to see how it'll go, how it can go if for once, I'm not making any effort for the both of us. I raise from my seat, eyes dropping from her. (She's wearing Converse, I note. This probably because she didn't plan on seeing me.) Hands digging deep in my pockets, I'm not sure I can approach her. These weird, implemented reflexes raise in her too. People don't do it so much any more. Getting close. And I can see her flinch in impulse before her eyes grow big and demanding. "I got tested-" She cuts herself short. It sounds weird. To speak in this deafening silence, she can hear it as much as I can. And to say those words too. She doesn't have to finish the sentence, I get the idea and from the shade of her voice, I can tell her results have turned out negative. Maybe I'm a bit irresponsible. Maybe a bit too desperate. In any case, it makes me scoff, roll my eyes. Staring down at my feet, hair hiding most of my face to her, I have to bite back on my tongue the words that almost roll out. Something about not giving a shit about that, and her being ridiculous. I don't really trust my mouth, I have no idea what would come out of it, therefore I don't speak. My hand reaches forward, bony fingers catching the front of her shirt before I'm dragging her to me. Very naturally, as if it hasn't been months since the last time I've touched her, as if even before that we were used to holding unto each other like that, she melts in my arms. "Why didn't you call?" She could, technically, ask me the same thing: I could have done it. I hope she doesn't ask. I wouldn't know what to say to her. How honest to be. I'd probably say that I was waiting for her to do it first. Which sounds ridiculous, childish as hell but couldn't be more true. I'd say, if I had a different tongue, that wouldn't get tied up anytime deep feelings are involved, that I was worried and terrified and sad, like I had not been in a long while. And all this because she wouldn't call, she wouldn't reach out for me and my heart, probably too profound and too serious, couldn't quite comprehend and certainly not accept her silence. Those months drove me crazy. Literally. I came to ask myself if I didn't make it all up. If the special bound between us had ever really existed or if it was just all projection. "You didn't either." She ends up saying. Clearly, she's as speechless as I am when it comes to explaining months, almost half a year, of pure dumbassery. It's not like it's necessary to explain anyway. She should just know how to tell me that she missed me. And I should know to do it too. She's better at that stuff. Not that good but still better than I am, I think. If she can't do it then I'm not sure I can even try. But today I'm different, as I said. And when she accuses me like she just did, I tense but don't let go. I can hear the way her breath catches in her throat, her shoulders rising to her ear. She's probably expecting me to back away and start cursing at her. I only squeeze further though, sliding my chin along her shoulder so to tuck my neck nicely with hers, humming pure appreciation, when it feels as comfortable and warm as it possibly can. She smells wonderful, she's warm and so willing to let me wrap myself around her. "I wasn't at my best so- I thought I'd just wait for you to call when you would-" I found the courage, apparently, to say all the things that's been heavy on my mind. It's easy when she's this tender. Embodiment of warmth, of welcoming, of loving, I can only be serene, voice low and soft. "But you never did." The only reason I allow myself to reproach the things that technically she can also blame me for, is because I know, that pressed that hard and that close against her, she can feel my heart beating insanely, exposing and telling on me. "You should have!" I don't need to say anything for her to gather that I'm not amused. I unwrap from her, deciding she's being too much of a stubborn brat. I sigh, watching her pointedly not watching me. She yelps and finally grants me her pretty eyes when a pinch to the back of her thigh, right under her ass, scalds her. Here's her "Mean Yoongi", as she so calls me, according to the Snapchat conversation she shares with Taehyung. I see her bite back a smile, her pretty lip flushed when she releases it. "What was that for?" She whines as if it's not fair, rubbing the soreness of her thigh with one hand. I smile mostly with my eyes, deciding to ignore the tears that have gathered in her eyes while I wasn't looking. I back away, taking a stand against the top of my desk, arms crossed tight on my chest. "You deserve way more than that. Lucky for you, I feel lazy." Her gaze follows mine, aimed at the leather sofa. The thing presently empty but virtually filled with the substantial memory of that one fateful time I touched her for the first time, her ass made red by my ministrations. I can't do that today. I'm too soft for now. I still enjoy seeing her squirm, blush and shy away while simultaneously loving thinking about it though. "I could tell you the same, Yoongi. You could have-" I'm losing patience. It's not entirely against her. It's more accurately against us. We're playing the same pointless game. The unnecessarily torturing game of denying, of dismissing. I should probably just drop it, even if it hurts and leaves me with too many pressing interrogations. I might look a bit more serious when I start studying her face with great attention. She's beautiful. I missed seeing her. The mental picture I had kept of her, along with the real ones I'd spent months looking at, didn't do her much justice. She looks somewhat surreal. Prettier than I remember, yet printed with the same aura I recognize. "I told you why already." I whisper to her. My own voice surprises me. It's as if my heart, that's been too hurt, has been left tender, exposed and I'm turned weak even in demeanour. I bet it's confusing for her. It is for me. Feels disarming. "But- what's the point then? If when you're down you don't call-" To that, I don't know what to say. I don't know how to admit to her, if she hasn't guessed it yet, the extend of my inability to seek for what I need, for what makes me feel good, for her who I've wanted and craved for. Of course, I needed her. Of course, I wanted her to be here for me -and be needed and wanted by her. I don't know how to say it though therefore I kiss her. A soft press to the corner of her mouth. I smile, probably looking dumb, when I see her wide eyes blinking, sending one lone tiny tear on her cheekbone. Her cheeks turn red because apparently, she's not immune to me and my kisses anymore, her immediate, strong reactions turning out to be the same as the ones she used to have, in the very, very beginning, when she was so putty, so lenient, such a good girl and also, the shyest and most innocent little thing. She needs some time to accommodate, to say the least. She's barely kissing me back. Simply letting me pepper her mouth with kisses, closing her eyes, hands reaching for my sweatshirt yet not so much giving me back.
After too long of not enough, I need to stop. Because what I think I know might not be so right anymore. Maybe I read things wrong, yet again, and she's not in the same place I stand. After looking at her face, and her eyes, who struggle to dry up and look at me, I ask, "What's wrong?", granting her all of my attention. "Wha- you, what's wrong?" I scoff. She looks like she's about to cry while snarking like a brat. "You're really testing my patience." "You're different. You don't have patience normally." I tilt my head to the side, a tiny smile lifting one corner of my lips. I can't say it's not true. "I thought you wanted me sweeter?" She stares, frowning. Confused, embarrassed and almost upset. I know I'm a weird fucking version of myself right now. The one that hasn't come out a lot these past few years and that she'd certainly never met before. I'm scared she doesn't like it. Maybe she hates it. If she liked me before, there's no reason she'd like that one Yoongi, is there? "I'm just messing with you. I'm tired and-" Gentle fingers wrap around her hands, intimating her to walk forward, forward and close enough for me to close my lips on hers again. "It's been a while." I let her look into my eyes, read the longing and probably the sadness. "Sorry if I'm weird. If you don't like me like that just- bear with me for today, hm?" "I bear with you all the time." Well. That's not even the last thing I expected her to say. Pretty mean for a sweet girl like her. "What does that mean?" She shrugs. She knows but she won't say. She has that pout on her mouth. The tilted one she does whenever something's been said loud and clear in that little head of hers but she's not generous enough to indulge in sharing. I stare, disapprovingly, thumb chastising kindly her cheek. "That's rough." "I don't mean it like that-" "Then what do you mean?" My mouth finds her again for an instant. It's a soft gentle kiss that doesn't hint at anything more. She remains silent. "Cats got your tongue? You usually can't shut up but you're so quiet today." Through her cute pout, she mumbles, "I guess I'm weird too today." My phone buzzes where it lays on my desk. With a quick glance, I can tell it's a text from Namjoon. I don't even need to read it. I can guess it. He's probably calling me an idiot while simultaneously demanding me not to be one.
I heard him earlier, I bet she doesn't know, when he held her hostage by telling that I was awake and that she should go say hi. He held her hostage because she was just passing by. From how loud Taehyung and Jimin were when the front door banged opened, half an hour ago, I could tell they were drunk as hell and she had just planned on dropping them off and leave. And Namjoon, being the good man and even better friend that he is, wouldn't let that happen. How could he when he's seen me all those months in states he probably hoped, back when we were young trainees, that he'd never had to see me again in? It hurt and it still does a little, to imagine that for the first time after so long, after finally being freed from the government harsh but necessary restrictions, she would come so close to me yet consider pass by me, without saying hi, without inquiring if I'm here, even. If it were not for the firm, absolutely non-subtle suggestion coming from Namjoon, she would have done it. She would have left ignoring me. Then she knocked gently on my door, I could tell she was terrified when I opened it and faced her, quiet. And maybe it was pure projection but I felt she wanted to be here. She was scared and embarrassed, didn't know what to say, what to do with herself and me, but she wanted to stay and try to untie this shitty intricate ball of knots. The thing is, it's late. It's super fucking late and I'm reminding when the screen of my phone lights up again to remind me to check the text I just received. She arrived too late at the dorms. We wasted, collectively, too much time not saying much and here we are, standing in the dimly lighted studio, facing each other with too much of an ambiguous tension surrounding us. Everything is unclear. The kisses she would allow me to leave on her lips but not give back to me, tasting lovely but with an aftertaste, a bitter taste of confusion, raising questions as far as their meanings – are they greetings or goodbyes. It's past one in the morning but I'm not ready to let her leave, especially when I don't know what she'd be leaving behind. Anxiety is creeping in my bosom. It's pissing me off. Vainly I bend over, to my side, tapping my finger on my phone to have it lit up. Maybe Namjoon is not just insulting me and has left actual practical advice for me to follow and not fuck this up. "Yoongi?" My ears perk up but I don't look up yet. My eyes are messed up from the exhaustion and I struggle to read. I see keywords: idiot (as expected), asshole, chance, upset. I see the word "love" even, that makes me wince. How can he believe he'd help me by sending me this word when she's standing right in front of me? She called yet she still has not talked further. I shut my phone instantly, worried to have been too lowly engaged to her, to have vexed her in any way, to have been an idiot, precisely what Namjoon threatened me into not being. I raise an interested eyebrow, inviting her to talk and she finally does so, fast and barely audible, "Can I spend the night?" She grimaces. I mean to frown but I realise my face is already squished in a scowl. Maybe her grimacing makes sense. "You mean here, at the dorms?" I ask, forcing my expression to quiet down by a tonne because my shock seems wrongly interpreted by her. That seems to help. She looks at me with her big demanding eyes, the ones I know. The ones that beg, unapologetically for my affection. She nods. "With me or- in the spare room...?" She nods again. "That doesn't answer my question, ___." "Yoongi." Here comes the little brat tone half-whining, half-menacing because she doesn't get her way straight away. How lovely to meet her again. I decide to spare her from any torture, for now, shutting the light off and guiding her, with my hands on her waist, through the dark and out my studio. "Why do you even ask? How many times have I invited you to stay?" I whisper in her ear, adoring the way I feel her tremble against me. "It's different now." She huffs, not the least hiding her annoyance. I can admit things are different now. Sort of feels like a whole different fucking life, if you ask me. I wouldn't have imagined that I needed the world to be taken upon such a devastating global catastrophe for my lover to accept spending one full night with me, for the first time. I don't even see the correlation, honestly. I don't even know why she didn't want to before. I forced myself not to dwell on this question too much. Simply accepting that she wouldn't and that's her right to not want to. But that was weird. "Is it?" My arm reaches before her, turn the handle right because she's left lost and awaiting in the dark. There's a gust of her smell coming to me. The sweet, comforting, familiar and magically charming, addicting scent. There's the click of the knob in the dark, and the door opens up on the hallway's bright lightening. No words are exchanged as I lead her, a hand gently pressed to the bottom of her back, so close to her ass the idea that I could just let it slide down can't leave my agitated mind. Most doors are closed shut, there's no much noise being heard in the whole apartment apart from the occasional high pitched giggles from the two drunk kids in the living room. She's too quiet to be entirely at ease with the situation. I don't even think she's ever come inside my and Seokjin's bedroom. Seokjin.
I wonder how aware she is of the fact that I'm sharing my room with someone else. If she does, she didn't seem to mind when she asked, with her battling lashes and irresistible pout, to spend the night with me. If we do end up making him spend the night elsewhere, he might curse at me or give me the cold shoulder for a minute or two tomorrow, but he'll live. "Is it? Different?" I ask again. We've reached the bedroom and I decide to lock the door for good. If Seokjin were to, perhaps, come to our room to head to bed, he'd be met with a locked door.
She doesn't answer, still. I'm pretty sure she allows herself that because of how lenient I am with her today. She knows I'm not going to force the words out of her. I sigh calmly, resolved, black eyes patient as they fix her. "Of course, it is. Isn't it to you?" "What is?" Hands raised to the sky, eyebrows high in bewilderment, her confusion, so big it's almost revolt, couldn't be more explicit. "I'm asking because I don't know, ___. You don't talk to me, how am I supposed to know?" "Sorry." She mumbles. Blushing from embarrassment, as she lowers her hands, looks down and sinks on herself. "It's ok." My hand leads hers to my lips, I kiss its back. "Why didn't you call?" "Yoongi, sometimes I just don't know how you feel. No, always- I mean, never, I never know how you feel-" I'm not sure how much she means to hurt my feelings. I'm pretty sure she knows, if the way she seeks for words, not to offense me, is any tell. But she sucks at preserving them. Her words sting like hell. "During- I just- I didn't want to force myself into you if that's not what you wanted, that's all." "And that's not what you wanted? Just hearing me, you didn't want that?" I have to ask. It's probably better talking about her feelings than mine, right now. "Course, I did..." She sulks. "Then why not try? At least for yourself, I don't get you." Maybe resentment of a tortured, sensitized heart is unleashing. I don't want to ever harm her but she's done it, a lot. I don't want to believe it but maybe we've parted too long for a cold, unpenetrable wall not to have taken place between us. At least, provisionally. It can't be that unpenetrable. "I'm sorry." She lowers her head, whispering. Looking all saddened. Guilty. Nervous. And of course, I'm too soft. "You used to force yourself into my life all the fucking time, sneaking in my studio like an affection craving puppy, you didn't care back then but now that I like you, you don't want it anymore." Her eyes blink, shift suddenly up. Wide and alarmed. They scrutinize me sitting on the bed, checking my own nails, pretending to be nonchalant about the bitty bomb I've just dropped. "Wouldn't peg you for the heartbreaker type but ok-" "Don't say stuff like that." "Like what? Stuff that I mean?" I roll my eyes because the moron watches me with an emotion in her gaze, anger, she's menacing me. "It's not funny." "It really isn't." I shake my head along. "I talked with a friend and he said the reason you didn't call is probably that I was messing with you too much, not saying anything you wanted to hear. That you got tired of waiting for me." "Namjoon?" I nod. I had to talk to Namjoon. Because I had to talk about her to someone. Taehyung was simply out of the question. He's her best friend. One of the closest of my own friends. He probably knows me too well, knows I'm not that well-off in my personal life, in my heart and mind to be with his non-biological sister. And Namjoon is kind and loves me a lot, even if we wouldn't talk about that. So much so that it makes him genuinely happy to see me excited about someone. "It's not really- that. I'm just a coward, Yoongi. I didn't know how to talk to you and ask you the things I wanted to and-” She's staring down, at her own fingers pkaying with each others. Cute. “Yeah, I don't know, I didn't know how you felt about me." "I thought I was obvious." She shrugs. She shrugs. It should anger me. I'd have the right to be mad. I was obvious. I've been obnoxious. Letting her mess with me and my stuff because she owns me and therefore, by definition, also everything I have. Letting her in. Filling up all the room, all according to her own whims. "Com'here," I demand, rather gently, spreading my legs and leaning back, hands holding me up. She obediently steps forward, takes her seat on my lap, right where I want her. That's perfect. Everything I needed to obliviate the fact that she hasn't confessed liking me back yet. "What is it you wanted to ask me?" She's hovering over me, slightly taller, should feel superior. But her pretty face is turned down, eyes avoiding mines from shame, staring at her hands toying with the strings of my sweatshirt. The bubble, so intimate, is small, very very small and it's hard to live in it. The air she's breathing is mine, the same way the air I'm breathing is hers, and she must be aware of the way all I'm seeing are the tiny, pretty details of her face. "Yoongi. You really like me?" "Course, I do." My cheeks burn from embarrassment. I kind of hate it but I live for the grin she struggles to hide. "Stupid." Totally free and unnecessary but not unjustified, I deem. "Then can you be my boyfriend? Or like would you- would you like to be?" With a hurried press of my lips to the corner of her mouth, I attempt to hide the grin growing on them. "Took you long enough." I fail miserably as I can't help but smile against her mouth, poorly kissing it. "It doesn't answer my question." She points out. I know it doesn't. I hate how happy and rather emotional I felt just having her ask me to be her boyfriend. Who would have thought I would mind this much? Honestly, I wouldn't have guessed it. I never thought it'd move me that much. But I suppose, I should have known by now, that, that's what she does: she moves me. It's a breathtaking kiss, stolen or given while I press her down on her back, body not hovering but laying on hers, every inch of hers pointedly connected to mine, that shuts the conversation down. It does not have to matter. Now that we've found each other back, we believe again we have all the time in the world. Maybe it's a mistake. The state of our world, these days, tend to suggest we don't, we never know how much time we'll have and what exactly it'll be made of. I didn't actually answer but maybe the answer is so fucking evident, she should trust my lips and my hands and my eyes each time they linger on a part of her they seem to have a liking for. And perhaps, she could just accept me and everything else along and assume rightfully that if I wasn't saying it all, it wasn't because I didn't feel it, didn't want to, didn't have anything to say but because I could not. "The gears in that head of yours are killing the mood," I mumble against her cheek, bothered by her loss of commitment, here again, to make me feel lonely when she's just right fucking here. "What is it?" I ask in a gentle whisper.
Here above her, close enough to still share breath but far enough to see her face, it's impossible to act like a dick. Her eyes are shiny, dripping emotions. I can see them clearly without knowing exactly how to read them. She's held back by so many things but as always a timid mouth won't let them slip. I've yet, after all this time, to decide if I love or hate that about her. She can be so open, in appearance, she's animated, she's enthusiastic, she's bright and welcoming. But at the same time, the corridor she lets you in hides a door at the end that she simply cannot allow to let you slide through. I've caught glimpses of this room when she left the door ajar a few times, mostly when I'm balls deep in and maybe a bit too soft when I whisper sweet words in the shell of her ear. She's mostly a mirror of myself, a better version though. When my eyes can look bored, uninterested and sometimes borderline mean, hers are always soft, always kind. It doesn't matter what or who they are set on. Even when she's upset, when I've said something she didn't like to hear, when she's been teased one too many times by Taehyung or her boss has been a fucking asshole all day long, she'll have her eyebrows cutely dropping down, mimicking anger and failing poorly because the eyes, right under it, are still as tender and bright and beautiful. Right now the door is ajar and from what I can see in her eyes, she looks like she's in love with me. It's pure torture because I know, and I can see that too, that even if it were to be the case she wouldn't say, she wouldn't say the words, not to me, not like that anyway, she couldn't. Perhaps I'm seeing things. Perhaps it's wishful thinking, or worse, my own reflection I catch in her eyes without recognising it. After a few seconds of her deliberately ignoring my question and me not getting impatient because I get to just watch her, I decide it doesn't really matter if she is or not in love with me if she keeps looking at me like that. The illusion so realistic, shocking my heart with delicious waves of electricity, I could live with that. "Yoongi?" And if she keeps saying my name like that, like a whine, like a shy little girl, I'll be spoiled forever. She says my name a lot today, I realise, as my spine is taken by an umpteenth wave of chill. Maybe she missed saying it. I surely missed hearing it. "Yeah?" I'm even more breathless than she is. Hovering above yet hanging from her mouth. I must look desperate to her. Even if this has the potential to tickle me the wrong way, I decide not to mind. It's pointless to fight back innate facts, isn't it? I am desperate for her, have been for fucking months, before even circumstances distanced us, I thought it could even end up killing me at some point. It was bad after a couple of weeks when I realised she'd still not called me. Not even a text or a word passed through Taehyung. Nothing at all and I had the sickening feeling growing in my stomach that it wouldn't change. After making sure she was ok, wherever she was, with whoever or maybe alone, she was fine and she was simply not reaching out for me, the torture really started. I just didn't get it. How could she, the most annoying little bug, stop doing what I thought her to like best, it is to say, bugging me? The last time we saw each other was fantastic. She had left slamming my door but with the pretty shade of infatuation on her cheeks, I had no doubt, even if things were not entirely cleared out yet -because I thought the cat and mouse game was entertaining to her as much as it was to me, and because at the time, we still felt like we had all the time in the world for this and for everything else- that we were good, better than good actually. I was confused, utterly lost. Too coward and too upset to reach out myself. If she wanted to talk to me, she would have done it, wouldn't she? She used to before. "Can you lie down? On your back, I mean." The request makes me raise an eyebrow. "You're always sorta on top of me, and I-" The sentence is never finished. She's embarrassed if the cute button of a mouth she wears along with the stealthy avoiding eyes are any teller. For some reasons, my heart beats faster in my chest in an uncomfortable thumping. Maybe I'm a grumpy old man. A grumpy control freak of an old man who's terrified by the least changement. Because Change to me, in all honesty, sounds horrifying -which sounds ridiculous given chances were bet on changes that ended up bringing the life that I now live, some rollercoaster, made of the worst up and downs sitting on top of the least trustworthy, stable ground. It's scary, feels ominous even when it's just my now-girlfriend sweetly starting to ask, and demand for things in my bed. Maybe I need to chill. Match better the chaos that's inside with the unbothered, emotionless exteriors. All I can think about is how lame her justification sounds given, "I can recall quite a good amount of times when you were on top.", and therefore, freak out about what's really behind her request. She frowns then glares, right in my eyes, at last, and sighs. She's being the snarky little girl who doesn't want to discuss and that's cute. That's adorable because I'm on top and I decide but she thinks she can control, demand from me. And she'd be right. She can ask anything from me. She always could. Rolling my eyes like I don't care, lazily rolling on my back like I'm not nervous as hell to just lay there for her, I watch carefully and savour the way she bites on her smiling lips, ecstatic as she is to have been granted an upperhand over me. She takes the seat she owns on my thighs, a mischievous glint decorating her gaze. "Do you remember our first time?" It does the trick. Her ephemeral sense of confidence flatters and she sinks down a little on herself -conveniently on my crotch-, flushing darkly. "I'm not senile, 'course I remember." Softly, the pads of my fingers press on her covered thighs. My eyes fixed on her lively face. She can't really bear it, they might burn her a little. She tries to flee, falling over, hiding her face in the crook of my neck. Her lips brush my skin, she sighs there, it's a wonderful, dip into her. "Remember the first time?" "I just said yes." She whispers the same way I do. I pinch very lightly the back of her thigh, not to hurt, just to warn her because she has a little edge to her tone. Of course, she'd be so impatient when I find myself able to be patient. "When we met for the first time." She leans back, curious eyes peeking at me. A lock of hair is brushing her cheek, I drag it behind her ear, kissing her lips with my thumb because I'm too lazy and laid too comfortably to try and raise up to her mouth. She frowns for a second before she shrugs. I can see she doesn't get where I'm going with that. If she can't even remember, she surely won't see. "You were in the kitchen with Tae, being loud as hell until I came in and you just stopped talking altogether." She rolls her eyes. "I thought you hated me." "I was just shy." She's a bit vexed that I'm bringing it up. I know that she hates that, when it's pointed out, that she gets shy and embarrassed and timid. I understand because I'm the same. The difference between us is that I hide pretty well my inner turmoil with a mask made of coldness, of confidence or disinterest. "You were, weren't you? Now, look at you..." Her eyes don't quit mine. She knows damn well what I mean. "Sitting on me like you're sitting on a throne." She actually giggles at that, tilts her head to the side, gaze going up to the skies as if she's considering the thought, a blatant giddy feeling of importance and timid pretension written all over. She knows it's right. I'm not sure to what extent she understands how much she owns me but she knows there's something big that's unsaid if she's allowed to just have me like that just from asking -only mildly politely. "Could have imagined that, princess?" She's too honest, shakes her head no. I smile lightly, amused because now that I've raised the question, I realise I couldn't have imagined that either. I didn't like her too much at the beginning. Or to be more precise, she gave me a bad first impression. I'm never good with new people but this girl, it just went wrong. I'd been chanted so many praises about her and when finally, I got to meet her because she was for once hanging out at the dorms when other people than Taehyung and Jimin were here, she shut off as soon as I walked in, for some reasons I didn't get at the time, decided to be unfair and that I was not deserving of her infamous sweetness. The stark contrast between her bright boisterous peals of laughter before I entered the room and heavy mean silence once I'd sat on one of the bar stools made me livid. I thought it'd be the end of it. I wouldn't get to know the person, the "amazing person", I've been told about because I wasn't meriting somehow. And after months of forced proximity, because she kept being invited over, involved with outings, something clicked within her and she became the annoying little brat I've known her to be and just had to grow fond of -because it was easier than to just stay reluctant to her advances and become mad each time she'd come to me. It didn't take too long, if I'm being totally honest, to go from deeply confused vexation to an out of character giddy fondness. I've never said it. Don't really plan on doing it. Even now that I'm feeling all mellow and sappy as fuck. She doesn't need to be told from my mouth anyway. I'm pretty sure Namjoon, if he hasn't had a word about this yet, will do later. And from her ever insistence, her never flattering determination even when I, from self-admission, had been harsh or mean in the way I could have told her off, I suspect she knows, she's always known. Her dizzying smile tastes the sweetest and her annoying voice is addicting, as if dipped in a thick layer of dopamine. And I'm too weak for pretty smiles matching pretty eyes, and for brats harassing me with their affection. Therefore when she starts peeling my shirt off of me and spreading her kisses everywhere she can reach, I don't say anything even though I half-hate it. I hate feeling exposed like that when she's fully clothed and on top of me. I don't really like in general being too naked especially for her knowing what she has for me compared to what I've got for her. And she's touching me, one of her hand pressing my wrist onto the mattress and I know what it means, she doesn't want me to protest or try and touch her. I don't because I want to be good for her, for once, not be an ass and impose everything because she seems to want peculiar things today and I can do that for her. But I adore the way she's humming against my skin, smiling uncontrollably against it and sprinkling the most tender kisses. For once, I'm letting her have her way, and won't thrash and push her over to get the upper hand I prefer to hold, bear with the flush burning my cheeks and speeding my heart. It is nice to have her being so willing to take her time with me, with loving me, as if she really wants me. She's also very much hot precisely where she presses her centre to my cock and my patience, if exceptionally efficient today, has limits. "You-" I'm cut off by a strong shudder born from her tongue swiping along my jaw and the little suckle on my ear that follows. "Undress." I groan once half of my composure found back. "No." The short but firm answer triggers me, without taking a second to think, my hand, the one she hasn't been holding hostage, raises and seizes the back of her thigh meanly. "What do you mean no?" "Yoongi, listen. I think I'm tired of you bossing me around." My eyes grow wide at that. She has the acutely tiny singing edge to her voice, the one that I know well for it rings louder every time she's embarrassed or doesn't feel the most confidence. But she's standing straight and tall on her throne, pressing steadily on my crotch as she slowly explains how this will go, her way. "Now that I come to think of it-" A hard grind stealing a huff from me. "You couldn't even- you couldn't even ask me out properly! I did it! I do everything all the time and you still get to choose? That's not fair." "If I remember correctly I always make sure you come first, don't I? So how unfair is that, princess?" She pouts. Stops moving altogether. I can picture her in a second raise her arms to her chest and cross them tight there, frowning and sulking. The little girl is upset. She's adorable. I suppose she hopes to intimidate me somehow or to make me swoon enough to give in. It does the opposite though. The more she pouts, the brattier she gets, the more she tickles my fancy. And I always want more. She's all the more fun when she's feisty too. "I have something in mind, Yoongi." I raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. Hers lower down, condescending, unwilling to give up her position. "I want to take care of you." She says, voice quieter from her prior disdainful approach. The Adam apple seems to double in size in my throat when I try to swallow this time, struggling so much so it's audible. I think I knew. I suspected something the moment she started to stare at me with those eyes. I just thought I could get away somehow, I managed to many times before. She's pretty easy to manipulate, a firm precise press of my fingers, a hot whisper to tease her core and she'd let it go. I'm pretty weak today though and here she is saying words that set me off, reach someplace dusty and far, so far away hidden within me that it feels uncomfortable. The trigger is uncomfortable. It's scary. I don't know what it'll be. I don't know how I'll handle it. I don't know if I ever want to try. Sincerely, the greatest and easiest pleasure I've ever had to indulge in has been hers. In her pleasure and her body. Her orgasms I tasted on my tongue, the ones that hug me tight, have always been the most spectacular. "You don't need to take care of me." I need to take care of you. I'm not sure where it comes from. I've come a long way in my own personal journey, I now know I deserve more than I used to believe I did. Yet I don't, I can't imagine her being the one taking care of me. It needs to be me. I need to spoil her. "You don't like that? When someone... focuses on you?" I think about a lie or a little distractive thing to say. I choose to be frank. If there's a day to be and a moment and a person with whom to be, it must be it. "Not really." "Maybe because you're not used to it. Wouldn't you like that? Because I want to. I thought about it a lot." That's the issue with her. She owns the power. Ultimately she does. Even if she doesn't feel like it, she does. Always. Today it shows in more ways than one. She's so eager, so excited, I don't know how to disappoint her. Reluctant but kindly enough, I ask. "What did you think about?" My mouth is dry as hell. I don't understand how I can be filled with so much anxiety, still. When I feel this old and this wise, and so pleased and spoiled yet, still, terrified. It should just be heaven. I don't get why sometimes the sweetest things have to be so scary to take a bite of. She smiles to herself, satisfied to find me willing to hear her. It's a shadow of promise. I will judge later on if she'll get what she wants or not. For now, I'm just hearing her out. She's sweet and she deserves to express herself. In no time, she meets me centimetres away. She's leaned over, forearms pressing a bit on my chest to keep herself from crashing completely onto me. She's beaming through her eyes, mostly, shining intensely in the dim light as she observes my face from up close. There's the scent of her shampoo, the vanilla coconut mix that I used to be obsessed with, smelling around me even when she wasn't there. It's awfully comforting to have that too sweet smell again, for real this time, teasing my senses and waking up a lovely nostalgia. With the tips of her hair brushing slightly the bare skin of my neck, how am I supposed to refuse anything she asks me. "I realised that we've never- I've never got to- taste you." The last words are not even pronounced out loud. There's the t I read on her teeth biting slightly her pink tongue, the rest of the syllabus she just gives up on and it's for me to read on her lips. Given how obsessed I am with them, the task is not that demanding, her request couldn't be clearer to me. I should be ecstatic, shouldn't I? I'm not. I'm nervous as hell. I don't know what's wrong with me. "That's what you thought about a lot? My dick in your mouth?" She flushes bright pink but doesn't waver. She decided she's a big girl and gets to fantasise about what she wants and she won't be shamed for it, not now that's she's grown the courage to ask aloud. I chuckle humourlessly. "Princess." I can almost see her ears point out at the pet name. She seems to like it. I think I'm keeping it. "You're too pretty to have a dick in your mouth." Her face twists in the loudest mask of indignation and revolt. Straightening her back again to stand tall over me, she looks down on me under her severe set of frown eyebrows. "What does that even-" Her hand falls flat on my chest, meeting the skin hard enough for a sharp slapping sound to resonate in the quiet room. "Yoongi! It doesn't make anyone any less pretty to- what are you even saying? How can you- Why are you diverting? You're always diverting-" She raises her hands to the sky in pure bewilderment. Her face is still contorted in anguish though, I can tell she's not done arguing about this. "I'm telling you I want you in my mouth and you- what do you say to me?" I can't really hold back the cackling laughter erupting straight from my bosom. She's startled by it, upset still but unsure of how serious I am and for some reason, when she stares at me laughing, the tiny shadow of a smile colours the corner of her mouth. The tempting beautiful thing suddenly appears only a few centimetres from my face. She looks down on me with all the seriousness she can gather, eyes squinted tight. "Are you serious, Yoongi? Do you really not like that?" How honest should I be? The ever same existential question. How honest can I be? "Because you- like everything else and I thought you liked going down on me but- do you not like receiving?" Because my own personal question is loud, louder than the soft whisper of her voice, and so much more pressing because finding the answer seems to be more essential, it'd answer her questions and a lot more, the ones she may have but never dare ask. I hope to find the answer or at least a hint of it in her eyes. I don't know any other more evident places where to look for it. My quiet gaze shuts her off a little, I see how she doesn't physically back away but there is something in her eyes wavering and suddenly she looks kind of sad. She might just be disappointed but the effect is immediate, I feel my heart cracks. "I just," I raise for a second just to find some courage on her mouth. "I'm better at giving, it's all. I feel weird just sitting here and taking, it's just weird." It's just hard. "But it's the very principle of Lo-" She cuts herself off before she finishes but too late for me not to make out the last syllable. "Of what?" I ask, a growing crooked grin teasing. I allow myself that because I know that I can't get her there. She might even be more scared than I am. That's funny how I find ease in teasing her in those places yet I know that if we really do get there and start being serious about it, or if she'd dare tease me back, I'd lose my shit. I can hardly handle her calling my name in a whine as if she needs me so much she can't handle me not being a constant part of her. "Do you really not like that? Like not want it?" She asks, eyes boring in mine, looking all serious and grave. I can't disappoint her when she looks at me like that. I don't want to. "I don't want to do anything you wouldn't want or like but-" Gently, the pad of my thumb caresses her soft cheek. I'm not sure what I've done to deserve her. I'm pretty sure there's been a mistake somewhere, an error in the matrix. While I'm not bad, I'm quite good as a person, I'm persuaded that pretty girls with hearts that gentle can't be for me. I can't even tell her how beautiful she is. "Actually no buts. Just, do you want it or not?" How could I say no? When she asks so nicely, so many times to and of course, she looks the way she does. I might be a huge hypocrite. Turning this into her using her charms to get what she wants rather than me accepting to be selfish because it's easier that way. Nonetheless, it's almost reluctantly, with a fat lump in my throat that I let out a tiny, "'Kay." She leans over, eyebrows high. "Was it a yes?" I hum, rolling my eyes a bit. I'm feeling embarrassed, too embarrassed, and she's bouncing on my cock like it's the most exciting news she's heard all year -which might actually be given the circumstances.
It's nice but confusing.
Does she like me that much or is she just really into giving heads? Suddenly I have flashbacks of all those times she got on her knees to fetch something from a low hanging shelf, or under the coffee table. I just thought, innocently, that she had no sense of adulthood and she didn't realise, that once adults are grown they don't get on their knees like children, looking up to you talking like it's not weird at all. Like it's not suggestive at all. Like if I were just to ask nicely she'd probably say yes and I'd be the opening of a pants' fly away from sitting comfortably on her tongue. I can't lie and say that I've never thought about it. Evidently. I have. Probably each and every time she's done that little supposedly innocent thing, and then, a few other times in between. She's giddy when she leans even further, sliding off to the side of my lips when she tries to smooch them. She's even giddier when she crawls down my body, hoping to the side so that she can start unfastening my belt and jeans. She's giddy but quiet when she starts pulling my pants off of me. She's feeling timid, I can read it on her cheeks, but she can't possibly be as much as I am. I don't think I've ever had her undress me like that, in the open, when the light is too bright for comfort and her eyes so focused on me. Now that I come to think of it, I can count on one hand the number of times I've been naked with her. And it's never been like that. With her not fucked out enough to not pay so much attention. With her eyes roaming over me, and every now and then glimpses to my face, gaze smiling and tender. The gaze doesn't leave me as her tiny hand tentatively reaches for my covered shaft. It still remains there, attached, for the longest time, while her fingers pressingly roam over it. I twitch under the touch, heart pounding harder, full of anticipation and anxiety. "Don't drag this shit forever." Maybe I could be nicer. Maybe I could show more patience -if I hadn't been so challenged all evening, I'd probably have some left but clearly, I don't. Maybe I could be less of an ass, I could precisely be the sweet, lovely boyfriend she deserves when she's moments and centimetres away from swallowing me down her throat. Probably I should make more efforts. Or learn how and when to make them. I'm probably not the most practical right now. Being rough when I should be sweet and sweet when she needs me to push her a bit. "But I wanna take my time." She says that with a smile on her pink lips, not vexed at all. And here she proves once again that maybe I don't know shit about her and women in general. Because when I feel like she should get offended or at least aggravated, she just takes me in and finds something that she likes in my insufferable self. I simply bite on my lip, pensive. Doesn't say much to her but she sees it and translates it a way that fits me well. A lazy blink later, I have the ghost of a new kiss on the corner of my mouth and then her lips tightly wrapped around my tip, concealing the fresh breeze of air that her undressing me completely brought. It's undefinable, the sensation of her hot wetness wrapped around me. She doesn't waste a second, visibly having changed her mind about taking her time, trying to have me as far as she can. Bobbing her head and sucking me in with so much enthusiasm, I have red flushing my cheeks when I hear the sounds that she makes, wondering if I seem as desperate, as voluntary, as messy when I do eat her cunt - and the rash comes directly from the blatant, easy answer: a big fat yes. Of course, it would feel that good. When her pussy feels like some Heaven, naturally her mouth would have me like that. In no time, my cock is rock hard and balls tight and ready to blow. It's been months since I've felt this good and even then, I didn't have that treatment. Having someone and her, at that, giving so much of herself, I see the way she tries to catch back some air, frowning because I'm pretty sure her jaw is hurting a bit, jerking me off fast to compensate the lack of warmth and her pretty, pretty eyes, smiling at me, doing the most. My thighs are tensing, my right leg keeps jerking upward uncontrollably, fists holding tight onto the sheets, overwhelmed. I'm not sure what I've done to deserve this. And maybe I'm going to doubt the universe placing this stupid princess on my way even more now that I've had her been so good to me, by just being herself, especially given that she's turned out to be an expert and a passionate at sucking my cock. "Fuck" Here goes my tip hitting the back of her throat again. And her hands, soft and encouraging, playing with my balls, pad of her thumb pressing sometimes between my perineum. "S-stop, I need to-" "You'll fuck me later, come in my mouth." She demands, breathlessly, diving back in before I even get to protest. "You can't say shit like that." I whiningly stutter, she's brought fucking tears to my eyes. I see blurry as I stare at the ceiling, vainly trying to hold back my climax. It makes her chuckle a bit, hum something I can't possibly understand with her mouth full and bells ringing in my ears, all I capture is the vibration it sends to my whole shaft, tickling along my spine, making me bent it embarrassingly. "Really wan'you to come-" She mumbles, lips making out with my tip in the process. "Then swallow me down." It comes out before I plan on it, before I mean to say it, through gritted teeth. She slides down my length, taking me in, like my every word is her command. The unexpected rush of pleasure, like an electric shock, seizes my hand which jumps to her head and decides to stay there, fingers fighting against the very weak remain of my brain cells to grab and clench and tear the head of hair they laid on. It's when I meet the back one more time and she decides to swallow down just then that I reach it, spilling down her throat, growling aloud without meaning too, spurring few words I probably wouldn't say to her if my mind wasn't so cloudy. I'm somewhere else. Body empty of any tension and I realize that a blowjob is exactly all I needed all those months. I haven't felt this relaxed and satiated and satisfied in so long, I feel dizzy and a bit lost. Even my own bed feels foreign, maybe it's just because she's on it. Smiling down on me with her small fingers painting shape on my skin and her pretty smile kissing my chest. She kisses her way up, leaving a path of warm sprouts, takes her time right on my drumming heart, smooches my cheeks with a tiny giggle that blooms probably from the red dots I assume are on them. She looks down on me, eyes sparkly and lips stuck in an upward curve. I see her hesitating. She's unsure of something I don't get because she just blew my mind off. My fingers knead gently the flesh of her thighs, inviting her to speak if there's something she needs to say. Her soft finger presses on my lips and she raises an eyebrow. "I don't know if I can kiss you..." "Why?" I ask, probably a bit too abruptly because I'm stupid right now and I don't understand under what circumstances she couldn't press her mouth to mine. She rolls her eyes evidently, scoffs and finally points at my crotch then her mouth, flushed all over her cheeks, when she sees me still struggling to understand. "Course you can. You always can." She shrugs, eyes fleeing away. I kiss her hard on the mouth, the hand buried in her hair pressing her further onto me. I consider vaguely how gross she might believe me to be when really, I'm just a bit too whipped for her and cum, no matter if it's mine or hers and shockingly enough I realise anyone else's too, I don't fucking care, any of her kisses are kisses that I want to consume. I roll her over on the bed and kiss her harder, licking and sucking her tongue until she's just wide eyes glinting up to me. "You can always kiss me." She nods, swollen lips tilting up. She doesn't find me too gross, it seems. Good. "And thanks." One kiss. "Was really nice." She tries to bite back her grin but fails, tittering even as I pinch lightly the side of her waist. "Was it nice for you?" I kiss the side of her jaw, smiling against her as I continue, purring close to her ear, "Just like you imagined?" I can feel her frustration before she even expresses it by raising a fist ready to punch me. It makes me chuckle. That's what she deserves for putting me in this situation anyway. I can't be the only one embarrassed, especially when I made an effort to content her -even if to content her was to content me but it doesn't matter. When my hand slides so naturally down her stomach, fingers strumming teasingly along the hem of her pants, the nagging and the arguing should be postponed for now. "You're an-" I slide easily under her clothes, palm cupping perfectly her cunt, it cuts her off. She gasps, eyes growing wide as they stare off at the ceiling, biting on her lip. "I'm what?" "Nothing." She grunts between tight jaws, both mad and horny and that's just too funny. I'm enjoying this immensely, torturing her kindly, while my fingers dip in her soaked heat, with her lips centimetres away so that I can kiss them as much as I want. She responds to all of my kisses. Tense her neck every time I part away for a second to take a look at what I'm doing, at her overall form, her laying in my bed with her twitching legs parting to give me more access. "I'm nothing? That's mean." "Yoongi, not now." I catch the curse she doesn't spit in my face before she gets to swallow it back down. The prospect that things should be cleared out now and that this will happen again, and again, and again until the day she decides she's tired of me drives me wild with excitement. It means I'll get to push her buttons and piss her off enough she'll curse at me the way she rarely ever does Taehyung when he's reaching her very limits of patience. Maybe I'm a bit gross, at least a bit freaky, if the idea of her mad beyond herself, calling me names yet simultaneously letting me play with her body like that turns me on so much. "When if not now, princess?" She pulsates around my fingers at that. It has to be the name. How lovely. How adorable. So adorable I can't help but grin giddily, effectively hiding my face in the crook of her neck so she doesn't catch me when I do. "You're so close already." "Shut up." "All worked up just from having my cock in your mouth." She groans, closes her eyes tight as if she's trying to focus all her attention on my fingers fucking her. "So easy to please, I'm a lucky bastard, am I not?" I keep mumbling next to her ear because I don't care what she pretends, I know she loves hearing me and I can bet with great confidence on what she loves to hear me say. "Having a girlfriend like you-" "Oh my Go- Yoongi-" "Come for your man." So easy to please. I know I'm not reaching the spot she likes best because her fucking pants are in the way. I've learned that the stretching is something she enjoys thoroughly and from how tense and on edge she got herself, my three fingers are doing wonders, dragging the ring along with every thrust. But I'm sure, I know, what's triggering her. She's too much like me. Probably worse than me. So desperate to feel the love, and here she is, coming around my fingers but mainly around my words when I'm just calling her mine. It takes her ages to come back to her senses, to stop desperately drinking my love straight from my mouth, and for her sweet cunt to stop kissing the tip of my fingers and let me slip them out. She's fucked out when she's back. Hair I barely touched all over the fucking place, eyelids heavy, mouth red and swollen, eyebrows low and eyes wet the way they get when the pleasure is so good she becomes a bit too soft and sensible and sometimes a tear or two escape. I get to clean her up a bit, rearranged her clothes and then realise that she's actually spending the night with me so I might as well get her pants off, throw my own pants away and put some shorts on, turn off the lights, and catch her in the most comfortable spooning session I've personally ever had before I feel her alert and with me entirely. "You okay?" She nods her head, blinking a few times more than necessary when she watches me raise my fingers to my mouth and mechanically lick them clean. In a whisper, after too long of laying quietly in the dark -apart from the angry stomping going on in the hallway along with mumbled curses that can only come from Seokjin and that we both decide to ignore- she timidly asks, "So we're dating, Min Yoongi?" "We've always been dating, dumbass." Which is not exactly true, not exactly false. To me, anyway, if she'd ever come to decide that the whole thing was just a fling then, it would have been just that. But I'm pretty sure she's always liked me as much as I have and even if I never expressed it clearly, I don't just fuck around like that. Especially with girls as sweet as her. And I don't really get that words define what we are anyway. Nothing changes now that I've said that. Maybe she's happier with the situation and that's all I want therefore I can give them to her, but honestly, yeah, to me we've always been each other's. "You're an asshole." "I'm your asshole." I don't know if she can hear my grin but the exasperated sigh suggests she does. "That's- gross." She still kisses my cheek and then my chest, huddling to my side, humming to herself when my arms wrapped around her squeeze a little harder. She's warm and soft and all mine, and when the realisation hits, that just a few hours ago she was infinitely far away from me, and now she's here in my arms, in my bed, (kind of) officially just mine to please and enjoy, my heart swells. That's all I've needed.
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A/N: Guess what, it’s one of my new year resolutions to STOP taking a break from writing and this blog. *clown*
I hope it wasn’t too bad, too stiff. I meant to give this couple a nice ending because I got attached to them as quite a lot of you have. Hopefully, you’re not disappointed and sorry if it was so angsty but I guess, my heart felt a bit heavy writing it. SOZ
I'm already working on another story I’m really excited about and inspired for. I’ll try to have it release very soon. 
If you’ve come this far, THANK YOU immensely. I LOVE you.
I hope all of you and your loved ones are doing fine. My best wishes for this new year. Let’s meet here more often.
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peterprkrsbtch · 4 years ago
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sapphire - part 2
Peter Parker x reader
A/n: Part 1 is up on my page! There’s a couple flashbacks in this one so I put the dates before so it doesn’t get confusing. If you enjoy this one, like or reblog to share! I already wrote part 3 and it’s my favorite one yet so that’ll def be up soon :)
tag- @juliannaamonroe​
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Warnings: swearing, make out, violence
(September 1)
We’re one minute away. Come out hoe!
You smile as you read the text, glancing at yourself in the mirror again, nerves and excitement ablaze in your stomach. You’d been planning for this day since last winter, and now it was finally here. You adjust your carefully styled hair and double check that the natural makeup you applied was sitting on your skin correctly.
Of course it was. That goddamn injection sometimes made you feel like a vampire out of twilight and sometimes you still got surprised when you saw your own face while passing a mirror or a particularly reflective window. You smooth down the ruffles of your short black skirt and tug the top of your tank top down so a bit more of your curves show.
You put on your white sneakers and tug your shirt back up to cover your chest again. We’ll have to work up to that, I guess. A long honk sounds from outside your apartment building and you curse as you scramble to grab your backpack and phone before running down and out the front steps.
“Awwww,” You say sweetly at the sight of the two girls who had become your best friends. “That’s the shirt you were wearing when we met, Ally.” You jokingly brush away a tear, pretending to be ultra touched.
“Best damn day of my life.” Ally says from her spot in the drivers seat, laughing at your dramatics. She may be joking around, but her sentiment makes your heart clench. This year really was going to be different.
***
(July 3)
You quickly realized you needed to find some Midtown friends if your plan for senior year was going to work. If you dared to show up looking, well, like you do, completely alone and friendless, you might become even more of an outcast than you were before. The first month of summer had been the least lonely time of your year so far, thanks to a certain Spiderman.
The two of you spent most of your nights together, flying through the city, fighting crime together, and talking. The “slow” nights that used to fill you with boredom quickly became your favorite when he was involved. The sound of his laugh and the jokes he makes during fights quickly became the highlight of your days.
But you couldn’t let yourself get too distracted by him. After all, neither of you knew what the other looked like. The only other boy you’d ever found remotely cute (other than celebrities) was nerdy Peter Parker from your high school. He wasn’t your usual type and he seemed to be just as shy as you were, so you had little (zero) hope that it would ever lead to anything more than a smile during the hallway if you accidentally made eye contact.
Sorry Spiderman, but no way in hell are you gonna make me lose my focus. The loneliness you had felt through the last three years of high school was too much. Your plan had to work. So that night as the two of you patrolled together, you softly mentioned that you were going to a pool party tomorrow and wouldn’t be able to meet.
He seemed a bit disappointed, but you brushed it off, trying to remember the names of the girls at your school who seemed nice. Peter, however, couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that you had told him where you would be tomorrow. There was only so many pool parties in a city like New York.
You tried not to think about who was under the Spiderman mask out of respect and, to be honest, it seemed like a pointless endeavor. Peter was not the same. No matter how tired he was from patrol, he always had time to lay awake before he fell asleep and picture what you would look like under the mask.
There wasn’t very many people who understood Peter’s secret life. None, actually, until you. Maybe that was why he was so intrigued by you, because you were so similar, but in his heart he knew that wasn’t it. He liked you. And he hated himself for it. But once you mentioned the pool party, he made sure to take one long last glance at the color of your hair before you two said goodbye. Just in case he happened to see that same hair tomorrow.
(July 4)
You were so, so nervous. Your closet of exclusively sweats and hoodies was trashed as Part 1 of your plan, much to your mother’s happiness. She had always been honest about her hatred of your junior year clothes and was extremely excited to purchase everything you needed. As distant as she was, you had to give her a little credit.
Although you’d been wearing the new clothes for the past month, this was the first time you were doing it so publicly. Your denim shorts exposed miles of smooth leg, and you’d decided to wear a red tube top in honor of the holiday-not to mention it really showed off your curves. You’d meticulously done your hair and makeup like you’d been practicing the past month and prayed that somebody would talk to you today.
You’d seen the flyer for the Fourth of July party on Instagram, which had been step 2. Unfortunately, you had two followers. Your mom and her boyfriend. Step 2 is a work in progress.
One long walk later, and you’re in front of the address. You swear you could explode of nerves right there, but instead you take a deep breath and force your legs to carry you inside the house and towards the people out by the pool.
Your eyes are so focused on your destination, the glass sliding door, that you barely notice when you bump shoulders with someone, causing you to drop your phone.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You say, reaching down to grab your phone.
“Oh my god, stop. That was totally my fault.” You stand back up to see the girl who was speaking, and you recognize her immediately. Her name is Ally, and she’s a part of the most popular group at school. Despite her long black hair and sweet smile, you haven’t heard many good things about her. Not the type of person you were looking for.
“Do you go to Midtown? I don’t think I’ve seen you around.” Ally says, making no move to walk away from the conversation.
“Yeah, actually. My name is Y/n?” You don’t miss the way her eyebrows raise and her eyes widen with confusion and shock. You’re embarrassed now, realizing maybe you weren’t as invisible as you’d thought. In an effort to explain away the last few years, “My dad left a couple years ago and it was pretty hard on me, but I’m all better now.” You flash the most dazzling smile you can manage and hope she accepts it.
“No way, mine did too!” She gasps as she grabs your hands. You feel a small pang of guilt at that. It was a lie, you had no idea who your dad was and frankly, you didn’t think your mom knew either.
The conversation starts to flow between you and Ally easily as you make your way out to the pool. “This is my best friend Betty.” Ally introduces you to the sweet-as-pie girl and the three of you quickly fall into a conversation like you’d known each other forever. A few of their guy friends tried to come up and talk to you, but she just waved them away. “Leave us alone, we just met our new best friend.”
You felt bad for judging Ally so harshly earlier, blindly trusting the stupid rumors you’d heard about her. Popular or not, the three of you got along better than any of the other friends you’d tried to make throughout your life. They do briefly make fun of your instagram before forcing you to take and post pictures with the two of them by the pool. They both tag your account.
Peter didn’t seem to share the good luck you did. He’d dragged Ned to 6 different pool parties across the city and saw no one who looked like Sapphire. Disappointed, he spent the night patrolling alone and dodging fireworks.
***
(September 1)
Since that day, you’d become a trio with Ally and Betty. The day after the pool party you’d woken up to nearly 1,000 followers on your instagram. Everyone from Midtown who never gave you a second look when you had your hood shoved over your head now wanted to be your friend.
The three of you spent the rest of your summer days together, and you fit into the popular friend group better than you could have imagined. Maybe you watched too many teen movies, but you expected them to be mean. The only mean one was Flash, and even he was basically harmless. You’d given up Saturday night patrols with Spiderman for a weekly girls night with your new best friends. You thought having new friends and a bustling social life would’ve made it easier to forget about Spiderman, but somehow he seeped into every area of your life.
That damn laugh. As Ally and Betty sing along to the radio loudly, you bite your lip to stop a dumb smile from rising to your lips. God, just thinking about him made you flustered. As Ally drives into the school parking lot, nerves bubble in your stomach.
As if you aren’t stressed enough, your brain decides this is the perfect moment to remind you of the one night this summer you and Spiderman haven’t talked about since.
*** (August 14)
The two of you were sprawled out on a gravel rooftop next to each other. Not the most comfortable of relaxing spots, but you’d both grown tired of flying around under the summer heat with no hint of trouble for miles.
“This sucks.” Spiderman huffs out.
“Rude.” You reply quickly, even though you know he isn’t talking about you.
“Oh, no,” He immediately sits up. “I didn’t mean you suck, I just meant, you know, because there’s not much going on right now and it’s hot and-” He sees your cheeky smile and stops himself with a laugh. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s cute.” You bite your lip. The fuck did I just say? Before you can begin to explain, he jumps to his feet.
“Spidey sense, let’s go!” You jump up too and follow after him as he jumps off the building. Thank god. I’ve never been so grateful that someone’s in trouble. The fight was tough, even with the both of you. These men had strange guns that keep firing at you and Spiderman even though you’d tried multiple times to crush them with your powers.
“The guns are magic-proof! I can’t destroy them!” You yell over to Spiderman as you take down one of the men in between punches.
Somehow, two men get ahold of their guns and corner you. Just as you start levitating to fly over them, a web shoots from somewhere behind them and the men and their guns are yanked away. Spiderman wastes no time and you swear he seems angry with the two men as he webs them to the wall next to their friends before picking up the guns and violently smashing them on the ground.
You’re still frozen in shock, watching him. When he seems to be satisfied with the broken pile of guns on the floor, he runs back over to you. “I’m so sorry, I know we promised-” You finally break out of whatever trance you were in to place a finger over his lips, casting a disgusted glance towards the men staring at you from their webbed cocoons.
“Not here.” You say quietly, and fly the two of you quickly up to the roof. He blinks for a second, his head spinning from the speed. You rarely use your full speed, especially with him, but you had to get out of there. “Okay, go ahead.” You say after a second of silence.
“I’m so sorry, I know we agreed not to get in each other’s way, and I know you can handle yourself, probably better than I can. Hold on, I didn’t mean I handle you. That sounded weird. Anyways, I just got so angry when I saw those men pointing their guns at you I had to-” He’s talking about the agreement you two had made when you first started working together. You both obviously were skilled, so you agreed that you wouldn’t interrupt each other’s fights unless asked.
“Spidey, I really don’t care you interrupted. It was hot.” JESUS CHRIST NOT AGAIN. You immediately winced and slap a hand over your mouth. “Oh my god I did NOT mean to say that I’m so sorry.”
Your rambling is cut off as Spiderman’s hand travels up to the bottom of his mask and you think your eyes might fall out of your head with how wide they become as he begins to pull it up, revealing the soft pale skin of his neck.
His jaw, chin, and then lips become visible as he lets the mask rest on his nose. The 0.5 seconds that have passed since you stopped talking feel like an eternity until he suddenly leans forward, crashing his lips into yours. Spiderman is an amazing kisser, you decide, as you gently kiss him back.
WHAT AM I DOING? Your mind is going haywire but instead of stopping, you deepen the kiss and nearly smile when he lets out a low moan. Everything you’ve told yourself about focus and distractions flies out the window when his gloved hands clutch your waist and pull you closer to him than you thought possible.
It feels like it’s only been a second when he pulls away, but your eyes flicker to his swollen lips and you know it must have been longer. You smile as you stare at his lips, only inches from yours, but as your gaze moves to the rest of his exposed skin the smile drops slowly.
Your rational mind comes back. It’s easy to forget when you’re with him that you’ve only known each other a couple months. How could you do this? Your first time making out with a boy, and he doesn’t even know your name.
“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whisper as he starts to say something.  “Sorry, what were you going to say?” He blinks slowly and takes a deep breath before stepping away from you.
“Nevermind. See you tomorrow.” And he swings away from you. You silently curse yourself for being such a big mouth, wanting to know what he would have said. You can’t help the small voice in the back of your head, telling you that you made the wrong decision.
You raise your hand to run your fingers along your tingling lips before flying home as fast as you can.
***
(September 1)
You wince at the painful memory before reminding yourself everything was back to normal the next day and neither of you mentioned it again. You still weren’t sure if that was good or bad. You force all thoughts of Spiderman out of your brain and even give Ally an encouraging cheer when she successfully parks on her first try.
You don’t remember Midtown having so many fucking students last year, but maybe it was because they were all staring at you. Any confidence you’d had as you opened Ally’s car door had disappeared as everyone around you turned to gawk. The bright smile you’d pasted on a second ago quickly fell and you glanced at Ally nervously.
“Come on, girls!” She says enthusiastically, grabbing an arm from you and Betty as she breaks the brief moment of awkward silence. God bless you Ally. As the three of you hoist your bags over your shoulders and make your way into the school, you mouth a quick thank you her way, hoping she can see your genuine appreciation. She smiles at you. “I’m happy we’re going into this year as three instead of two.”
Betty leans forward to smile at you. “Me too, y/n. I’m really happy you’re here.”  You smile back brightly. There really was no one as sweet as Betty.
“You won’t be so happy I’m here when I talk your ear off during class.” The three of you continue laughing and joking your way down the hall to stop at your lockers.
“Oh my god, is that Y/n?” Ned interrupts Peter’s latest ramble about his night with Sapphire. Usually, he really did listen. Ned was fully invested in the superhero love story, as he called it, unfolding. But the sight of a girl notorious for hiding in her own baggy clothes across the hall in a miniskirt and tank top was more important.
“Y/n?” Peter asks, confused why Ned wasn’t paying attention. But when he turned around to see what Ned was staring at, he understood. He’d seen you around school the past three years, but never like this.
You looked like a fucking model. And everyone in the hall couldn’t help but stare. “Holy shit.”
“Right, dude?” Ned breathes out, the two of them shamelessly staring. “Why didn’t that happen to me over summer? Oh my god, of course she’s friends with Betty.”
Peter laughs as his best friend goes on about “two pretty best friends” but he can’t take his eyes off of you. The light in your eyes as you joke with your friends, making them double over in laughter, feels strangely familiar. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking on his part because you’re extremely pretty.
He watches in surprise as you and Ally walk up to the AP Chem classroom, waving goodbye to Betty sadly as she heads off to English. You turn to walk into the classroom after Ally, but you pause and look back down the hallway-right at him. Instead of yelling at him for being a creep like he expected, you smile at him widely before heading into the class. He exhales deeply and glances down at his schedule quickly, a smile appearing. AP Chem.
Of course his thoughts are still consumed by Sapphire, but it was hard to ignore you especially after seeing his name on the seating chart next to yours in the back row. Plus, Sapphire was the one who’d shot him down after he finally tried to make a move after catching onto the hints he thought she’d been dropping.
He felt bad for thinking that about her, he didn’t blame her at all. He knew there was a million reasons they shouldn’t be together-and he didn’t want to know specifics on why he wasn’t good enough. Sapphire hadn’t brought up that night since, and he was fine to pretend it never happened.
You were already in your seat at the lab table, but Ally was still standing next to you waving her hands wildly as you two spoke. He doesn’t want to interrupt so he freezes in place, unsure of whether or not to go sit down. He’d thought you were cute, and a little shy like him in freshman and sophomore year and he remembered the many times he would look at you from across the room like he is now.
His eyes had been quick to find you whenever you two were in the same room ever since the first day of school freshman year when you smiled at him in the hall. Even last year, when all he saw of you was a curled up lump at your desk or a sliver of hair peeking out from behind your hood he still noticed you.
Luckily for him, the bell rings and he slides into his seat just as the teacher begins speaking. “Hi, Peter.” You lean over to him, your shoulders nearly touching, and whisper so the teacher doesn’t hear. “I’m y/n.” You smile warmly as his cheeks and ears turn light pink.
“You don’t have to introduce yourself. We’ve gone to school together since we were 6?” Now it’s your turn to be embarrassed and you purse your lips together.
“No, I know, just-” Peter notices you seem a bit frustrated as you glance around the room and then lean even closer to him. “Everybody thinks I’m new.” You nervously mess with your bracelet.
“You do look a bit different.” He points out and you raise your eyebrows before sighing slowly and shrugging.
“I was just sick of feeling invisible, you know. Not because I care what anyone here thinks. Last year was just, really, really lonely.” Peter watches you intently as you speak, hanging onto your every word.
Your confession made him sad. If only he’d been brave enough to ask if you were okay. You pause for a second and meet his eyes. Any other guy in this school would’ve laughed at you by now. You gesture to your outfit and nervously adjust your skirt. “I’m also not a superficial person. It wasn’t about changing how I looked, I just needed the confidence to put myself out there.” You pause and nod towards Ally with a smile. Peter glances over to Ally and sees her blow you a kiss, which you catch across the room with a giggle.
I miss you! She mouths with a dramatic frown and this time Peter laughs quietly with you. “I thought she was a bitch before I met her.” He looks at you with surprise to find you smiling at him. “But,” you hold up a finger for dramatic effect, “because I put myself out there, I met my best friends. A lot of people around here judge on appearances. I’m not like that anymore.” You say with confidence.
“That’s really cool of you.” Peter whispers back, and the sound sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. He’s so close to you and the feelings you thought you left behind two years ago don’t seem so left behind as you stare into his warm eyes. “For the record, I’d be your friend no matter what you look like.”
Peter has only been this nervous a couple times before in his life, and he can’t help but feel like he’s betraying Sapphire with the way he’s thinking about you. He watches as you smile warmly at his words and extend your hand towards his.
“Friends? Even though I'm so much uglier now?” You pout your bottom lip out, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. He nearly laughs out loud and has to remind himself you’re still in class. “I know guys go wild for the homeless man sweatpants look.” You’re both trying to hold back your laughter, shaking silently in the back of the class as he raises his hand and grabs yours.
“Friends.” Peter isn’t sure why he keeps going, but he does. “And just so you know, you were never ugly. I don’t know why you tried so hard to hide yourself last year, but even then,” the words leaving his mouth sound confident but Peter takes a deep breath before looking up from his lap to meet your eyes. Your wide eyes and surprised smile give him just the confidence he needs to finish. “You could never be ugly.” Peter can hear his heart beating.
You blink at him. This boy could not be real. Here he was, basically implying that the one thing you had wanted all along, for somebody to notice you, was true. Not only was it true, but it was Peter fucking Parker telling you this. Despite everything that had changed you in the past year, the giddy feeling in your bones brought you back to sophomore year and pining over Peter.
“Really?” Your smile spreads and he seems to let out a deep breath of relief.
“Yeah.” He smiles back at you until your sweet moment is interrupted by a fat ass syllabus dropping onto the lab table in front of you.
“Fuck,” you whisper. “This class is gonna be so much homework.” You turn the page so Peter can briefly see the list of projects alone, and it’s enough to make him cringe.
Something about the way the whispers travel back and forth between you all class makes you realize you hadn’t fallen into a friendship this easily, even with Ally. Even with Spiderman, your brain points out.
A red and blue suit swings into your mind and you are hit with a wave of guilt. Not two hours ago I was thinking about my make out with Spiderman, and now I’m comparing him to Peter? 
You have all but one class together, and you can’t help but glance in Peter’s direction any chance you get. The only time you don’t see him is at lunch, even though you look all around the lunch room for him or the boy he’d been standing with this morning. You thought it would be too creepy to ask him where he’d been.
Finally, the last bell of the day rang, and you were sure if you didn’t have superpowers you would’ve been exhausted. School is kinda draining when you actually acknowledge people. Ally and Betty share your complaints about being tired on your drive home, all three of you agreeing you need naps. You kiss them both on the cheek and wave goodbye before heading up to your room.
Forget what I said about having superpowers. I’m fucking tired. You lay down on your bed, groaning into the pillow at the thought of having to patrol tonight. You sat up abruptly. You’d never dreaded patrol, it was always the thing you looked forward to. You glance towards the suit in your closet and sigh.
It’s not patrol I’m nervous about. It’s him. You feel incredibly guilty about today. I’m not a two timer. If I want to like Peter, I have to talk to Spiderman about that kiss first. You start to make your way over to the closet before another wave of exhaustion hits, sending you straight back to your bed.
After a nap. Then we’ll talk.
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