#they could never make me hate you shameless <3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

danieyells · 9 months ago

Note

Can I see Romeo's voicelines please? He's such a failguy, I need to knowwww

How dare you call him a failguy!

he is THE failguy. don't make him sound offbrand.

i love Romeo he is honestly so ridiculous like. . .you meet Romeo in the first chapter and you do NOT realize he's going to be like. . .that. . .in the Sinostra chapter. . . .

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"Hey! I'm talking to you, BB! If you've got time to wander around, you've got time to wipe the tables!"

i thoguht the pc was supposed to be doing uh background work for you at the casino. why is she cleaning tables!? go ask her to run drugs for you or something.

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"Excuse me? What sane person lets their messages pile up like this!? Deal with them or I'll deal with you!"

'clean up your inbox or they will have to clean you and put you in a box'

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"Fuji... Come out, come out, wherever you are... Tch, where did he go? Why is running away the only thing he's good at!?"

"Listen up—call me Fico. That's the only name I'll respond to, understand!?"

disregard the 'Lulu' from Taiga, 'Romi-sama'/'Ro-Ro' from Leo, 'RomiRomi' from Rui. . .'Fico' is for underlings, and you are an underling!

"Come to my private office later—I've got a little proposal I think you'll want to hear. But make sure you come alone."

"Just go! I cannot deal with this WTWUT! Wall-To-Wall Useless Trash, obviously!"

that was a long acronym!

"Time to count this month's protection fees... Not bad. I'll up this group by 2% next month. This one could go a little higher too..."

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"Why does that DOF want to meet so early in the morning? If I get bags under my eyes because of this, I'm going to slit his throat."

we never learned what "DOF" stood for did we. we do know it's Hyde now, though!

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Hello? Yes, I was just eating lunch. Again? ...Fine. Tonight? All right. Bye now."

booty call from hyde? in the middle of the day? shameless

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Have you seen Shinjo anywhere? I just asked him to organize some documents and he ran off to make copies!"

Ritsu has a line referencing this one!

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Mickey's bar? Yes, I am going again tonight, but it's only because there's nowhere else to go for a drink."

isn't there a bar in the casino. . .i guess he doesn't wanna spend time on the casino floor. also "Mickey" is Rui Mizuki, if you weren't able to figure that out haha

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"This is when the regulars usually come, so I have to sweeten the pot. I saw that HNTW out there earlier too."

i hate you and your acronyms LMAOOOO I THINK THIS IS REFERRING TO KAITO??? MAYBE??? he's the only character besides Taiga who frequents the casino that we're aware of!

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"How dare those Frostheim slugs start whispering the moment they see my face... One day they'll be groveling at my feet..."

oof. . .the frostheimers are gossiping about the collapse of his family. . .yeah i'd be mad too there bud. i'd like to think he wanted to transfer to Frostheim once he became a second year and he ended up not doing it because Frostheim was just so toxic.

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"...Looks like I'm due for a tune up soon. Keeping my posture beautiful isn't easy, no matter how much I train my core."

i assume he sees like a chiropractor or a physical therapist or something. gets his atlas adjusted. maybe don't lean over your EITS laptops lol

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"You're smelling the bedtime fragrance I bought from Kurossa earlier. He has a good eye, so I often ask him to pick things out for me."

'Kurossa' is Leo Kurosagi and his lines also reference this! I'm glad they get along so well haha I think they mesh pretty great. also the fact that Romeo gives little nicknames to people is cute. . . .

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"You want to see my Insta? I suppose that's fine, but do you even know anything about brands?"

brand ambassador romeo. . .god he probably does all sorts of dumb beauty shit on his instagram. do you think he participates in those health pyramid schemes? probably not, right, he's fairly legitimate in his business practices. . .sort of, sometimes, kind of, as long as you don't owe him money. . . .

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Fuji's pendant? Of course I haven't given up on it. He has no idea of the value of what's hanging around his neck."

neither do we! please inform us!! but on the upside that means that Romeo knows what it is, to some degree. I assume it's some rare, powerful artifact. Kaito at least knows it's important.

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"I have to drink a cup of room-temperature water, do an electric facial and a mask, apply body cream, do my neck routine... I have no free time in the morning."

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Hey! There's a hair on the ground over here! And there's dust over here! Can't you even clean something properly without me holding your hand!?"

this is directed at his underlings, not the pc(or not the pc by themself.) I also appreciate that the Japanese specifies this is one single hair he's pointing out. Somebody get this man a roomba.

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I maintain my bullets myself. You really think I'd let another man handle my crown jewels?"

handle your WHAT-- i mean anyone could've guessed you and taiga don't have a very active sex life

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"What is going on with your skin!? Do you even have a proper routine in place? Unacceptable. Your overnight skin cell turnover is suboptimal and it shows."

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"That BTH...! I was almost impressed to see him out so early until I realized he's been playing all night!!"

taiga pulling an all-nighter at his own goddamn casino lmao. . . .

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"What do you mean you don't need any more noni juice? I went out of my way to prepare it for you. Come on now, drink it."

he personally made it for you! now drink the bitter nasty health juice. don't make him feed it to you. (The fact that he made you a health dink--went out of his way to make it for you--shows that he's really starting to like you and now he's treating you like a pet.)

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Finally, some goods worth talking about. I have to ring that DOF and arrange the next event..."

so Hyde is an active participant in these auctions huh. . .are the secret missions he gives Romeo based on selling and distributing artifacts and anomalies in secret. . .?

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Money, hard work, and patience... That's the cost of true beauty. Don't think it's something you can easily imitate."

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"How about a smoke before bed? I'm joking. If I wasn't selling it, I wouldn't be touching this unhealthy garbage."

quick someone shoop the "quieres" meme with romeo HE DOESN'T ACTUALLY TELL YOU WHAT HE'S HANDLING. . .considering his line of work it could be anything but regular cigarettes or cigars. Is it weed? is it crack?? is it meth???? i find that romeo is essentially the campus dealer hilarious.

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"What? I'm on my way to the gym for a workout. ...You can join me if you're interested."

you know damn well he probably hates getting sweaty. but he's gotta keep up with his health and all so a little workout's not off the table. also you know he's wearing some fuckin. gucci leggings or some shit.

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Why are you carrying that!? What if you drop it and it breaks? I'll get one of our young guys to do it, so put it down already!"

aw he's worried about--oh no he's just worrying about you dropping his stuff.

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I won't let anyone destroy what I've built— not even my OAOF."

GOD I HOPE THEY EXPLAIN THESE ACRONYMS SOMEWHERE ALONG THE LINE. I assume the first word is "Own". . .the last word could be "Family" or "Followers"/"Faction" or "Feelings". . . .

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Most of humanity's problems can be solved with money. If you put that another way, without money, you don't stand a chance. That's the way the world works."

again, Taiga compared Ritsu's family to Romeo's before The Incident. Romeo lost everything he had at one point. He's afraid of ending up with nothing again. That's all. Even with the Casino, he doesn't want to lose it because it'd be losing everything he has again. Having no money means going back to 0.

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Coming here alone this time of night, haven't you made progress? Come over here, I'll evaluate your efforts."

pc's getting brave enough to go to Sinostra in the middle of the night! probably did some shady job for him too. Also the face he makes while praising you for coming to Sinostra alone late at night is a little. . . .

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"What could you possibly be afraid of? You're one of my people! Walk with your head held high or I'll step on it!"

BBY YOU CAN STEP ON HER HEAD ANYWAY. PLEASE DO IT. 👀 also you have been opted out of being one of Taiga's people I guess. You have chosen your faction. /joke

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"This year's AW collection is out... Tch. Not even a hint of taste in any of it. They'll bear this mark of shame for years."

I KNOW THIS ACRONYM! He's complaining about Autumn-Winter fashion!!! lbr romeo men's fashion is kinda boring anyway. I wonder if his family owned a fashion brand. . . .

(between 11am and 4pm)

"I don't mind the springtime in Japan. The mild weather is a bonus, but it's the transient beauty of the cherry blossoms I truly appreciate."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"The new prototype is a tear bomb? A lot of anomalies don't even have eyes, is this really going to be useful?"

i mean it might be useful for the ones that have eyes. . .or for hunting down Kaito.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Shut up! It's nearly time to settle the books so I'm completely run off my feet! I don't have time to deal with you, understand!?"

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"Summer is all about aquamarine... If you believe that, you're a follower. A trendsetter would know to go against the grain with a heavier jade piece."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Excuse me!? You really think I would stoop to petty theft!? This scarf and hat are UV protection!"

LMAO HE LOOKED SO SHADY THE PC GOT WORRIED

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"This? It's an original hot water blend with salt and lemon I came up with. You shouldn't be cooling your insides just because it's hot outside!"

i mean. i guess it'll technically help you sweat and cool down faster????

(between 8pm and 5am)

"The heat's finally starting to ease off. I want to take a shower, but it's nearly our peak hour..."

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"They gave us nothing but useless bottom feeders this year... I'd like to see who raised this bunch of idiots. They don't even have a grasp of basic etiquette."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"I'm going to the training grounds to demonstrate sharpshooting for the first- years. It's a waste of my time, but I'm the most skilled at it."

he just wants everyone to see how good he is lolol

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"The SS collections are out. What? Are you telling me you don't pay attention to Paris Fashion Week?"

(between 8pm and 5am)

"The boss won't stop whining about being hungry. Obviously I'm not going to cook. What are you all standing around for, you damn TGAs!?"

lol Romeo has his underlings feed Taiga as much as Taiga demands food of his own underlings. "please feed your father the boss before he eats one of the chancellor's cats again."

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"You look like a fat slug in those clothes. Keeping warm is important, but couldn't you at least tough it out when you're meeting me!?"

HARSH. how about you get her outfits then!!! lolol he's looking at you all bundled up and doesn't even wanna be seen with you

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Everywhere is so dry, it's unbearable. I want to go back to my room and moisturize..."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"I get aches when it's cold... I'm taking off early tonight to go drink, then I'll warm up with a low bath."

'i'm gonna put alcohol in me which will make me feel warm but actually make me colder, then get in the bath for a while' lol

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Tch... This is the most profitable time of year for us, where the hell is that BTH!?

well you see Taiga hates the cold too so he's probably in a blanket burrito. . . .

His birthday: (November 14th)

"Today is Fico's birthday, so you're dining in style. I'm not going to eat any though, so you can finish it off."

'it's my birthday, so i'm going to treat you! what? me? eat?? no, i'm on a diet!!' i am once again asking the ghouls to EAT PROPER MEALS PLEASE IT IS YOUR BIRTHDAY ROMEO HAVE ONE CHEAT DAY. DOESN'T EVEN HAVE TO BE CAKE.

Your birthday:

"It's your birthday? I suppose I can celebrate it for you, but you'd better be aware of how much of my precious time you're using."

he treats you better on his birthday than yours. . . .

New Years: (January 1st)

"Felice anno nuovo! This will be the year I claim Fuji's debt and his pendant!"

oh my god he does speak italian. you hear more tidbits of italian fromTaiga than him. also Kaito's pendant must be super important if that's his new years resolution. this is gonna matter in the long run isn't it.

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"Hmph. I'm not familiar with this packaging. If you're giving me chocolate, you better have selected it with the utmost care!"

'this is not brand name. how dare you.'

White Day: (March 14th)

"Here. They're mimosa cookies, a special order from an upmarket confectionary in Ginza. I can't say whether your peasant tastebuds can appreciate them though."

peasant? who are you, jin? fun fact, Taiga's White Day line references this one!

"What's that expectant look on your face? Lulu was harping on about mimosas or something before. That what you want?"

so Romeo gets the cookies whether or not he plans to give you some i guess lol

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"Just you try and fool me—I'll tear those rags off you and throw you in a cage. So? What do you want?"

converting your friends into human trafficking victims is the latest new prank sweeping the internet!

Halloween: (October 31st)

"Do you have face paint in your pores!? Go wash it off before you end up with hyperpigmentation!!"

Christmas: (December 25th)

"Buon Natale! Go get ready—that reindeer's around again. This year I'm going to catch it for sure!!"

he's going to auction off one of santa's reindeer. . . .

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"Tch... If you don't have any business for me, I'm leaving! You're wasting my precious time!"

(13 affinity and above)

"My drink is empty. Hey! I'm talking to you! Go bring me a refill!"

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"Well, look what the cat dragged in. Do I have to teach you how to maintain an adult relationship? This is your last chance, got it!?"

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG THE ADHD KICKED IN AND I GOT SUPER DISTRACTED i love Romeo so much he's so. . .silly lmao. he's a very fun character. even though i hate his acronyms. But he's also so worried about his image and his money. . .and as much as he complains I think he worries about Taiga too. And as he comes to like you more he worries about you too. It's just that strictness and maintaining control is how he feels most comfortable and how he expresses his attachments. He trusts you. So he wants you to be able to hold you to a high standard.

#romeo lucci #romeo scorpius lucci #tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker spoilers #datamining cw #danie yells at tokyo debunker #next is TOWA MY BELOVED.

162 notes · View notes

actuallymoon · 2 months ago

Text

I’ve just started Mo Dao Zu Shi (MDZS), and it is HILARIOUS. Wei Wuxian is a sarcastic diva. He’s out here living his best chaotic life, enjoying every minute in the body of someone already labeled as a “lunatic”. Like he literally admits to liking the fact that he can finally act the way he wanted without toning down his personality. I’m only on Chapter 3, but I’ve already taken so many screenshots of scenes that made me laugh.

This one is my favourite so far:

When I tell you I HOLLERED 😭😭😭 This man has been falsely accused of MURDERING HIS COUSIN. His aunt wants him dead, and yet what’s he worried about? His nonexistent love life. I approve of his priorities; go get some dick Mr. Xuanyu.

What makes this even funnier is how Wei Wuxian just completely flips the script on those who abused him. Just for being gay, he was labeled a “deviant” by those around him, ostracized, and ridiculed. Now, he’s fully embracing that stereotype of him being "a sexual predator" and using it as a weapon. “Oh, I’m the shameless one? Let’s talk about how you went into my bedroom at night, knowing that I'm a crazy gay person that harasses men.” Sir, the pettiness is unparalleled.

This moment is pure gold because it captures how Wei Wuxian thrives is already leaning into his role as the “lunatic” with zero shame, and honestly, I love that for him. He’s not just finally being himself and enjoying it; he’s out here making everyone else regret ever crossing him. King behavior.

Another scene I like is this:

Okay, first of all, Jin Ling, relax. Why are you out here throwing casual homophobia around like confetti? Not only that, but he's trying SO HARD to act tough and superior while he's the one pinned to the damn ground. Jin Ling also uses the "I'm going to tell on you" threat and expects us to take him seriously. Sir, sit down (oh wait, he's already sat 🤭).

Wei Wuxian doesn’t even dignify this insult with a serious response. Instead, he clutches his chest like the dramatic little twink he is and hits Jin Ling with the most insincere reaction possible.

What makes this scene so funny is how Wei Wuxian effortlessly dismantles Jin Ling’s bravado. This kid is trying so hard to act threatening, but Wei’s over-the-top sarcasm completely undercuts him. It’s like he’s saying, “Oh no, not the scary homophobic teenager! Whatever shall I do?!” And the clutching-his-heart move? That’s just the cherry on top. Like, Jin Ling honey, at least try to be clever with your insults.

In summary, I already love Wei Wuxian. They could NEVER make me hate him. I can’t wait to see how much more chaos he causes as the story progresses.

#mxtx mdzs #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #mo xuanyu #wei wuxian #jin ling #the untamed

83 notes · View notes

jeonscatalyst · 2 months ago

Note

I hate solos. Today they are arguing because apparently receipts for Jimins exhibit are showing JK, naturally people think that’s JK exhibit, and they are throwing shade left right and centre.

I see pjms calling JK Ratkook and JJKs calling Jimin pigmin. One pjm said about jk copying Jimin, even hanging off him in the military.

They just don’t see it do they? They don’t see (shipping aside) how much their supposed faves love each other. How can they claim to be a fan and be so blind to the person they claim to Stan? It baffles my mind

I’m honestly so sick and tired of solos as they make the fan experience less enjoyable. Everyday on twitter you see them fighting each other, complaining about how maltreated their faves are, hating on other members and people who stan other members……it’s a whole mess.

And as you said, the ones that baffle me the most are Jimin and Jungkook solos. They are arch enemies and cannot stand each other even though Jimin and Jungkook have literally spent a better part of their lives in BTS joined at the hip and are still together in this exact same moment even though all the other members are apart. How is it so impossible for them to see how much both their faves actually love and care about each other? That whole exhibit thing they are fighting about now is such a nothing burger as it could be something as simple as a system glitch but these people swear it is some ploy by the company to sabotage either Jimin or Jk and then we have some jokers too who don’t know how to see Jimin and Jungkook as real people or individuals, celebrating it saying that Jungkook’s name on Jimin’s stuff proves their relationship😭. I don’t even know who is worse out of these set of people.

I don’t know about others but I could never be a solo stan, especially the ones who hate on other members because don’t you feel embarrassed hating on someone everyday only to watch your fave being all chummy, cuddly and mushy with them? What battle are you fighting exactly when the person you claim to be fighting for holds that person you are hating and insulting in high regard? What battle are you fighting when the person you are claim to be fighting for keeps staying by the side of that other member you hate? What battle are you fighting when you spend all your days on the internet losing morals, raising your blood pressure and reducing your chances of seeing the pearly gates only to hear that while you were busy fighting battles no one asked you to fight your fave was busy spending the night with the one you hate so much and eating 3 portions of food that they cooked for them. I swear I would be so embarrassed. Being a hateful solo stan is so fucking embarrassing. It’s like moving around fighting your bestfriend’s lover whom you think is toxic for them only to see your bestfriend going back to them over and over making you look like the biggest idiot😭

Imagine being a jk or jimin solo stan hating on either of them and they are just there like……

Lord knows I would never get over the shame. Solo stans are stronger than me because I could NEVER continue humiliating myself and putting my peace of mind and health in jeopardy like that.

It is one thing to fight people who hate on your fave but fighting and hating on the actual members themselves? That’s a different level of shamelessness.

#jikook #jimin #jungkook #solo Stan’s #fandom discourse #my asks

57 notes · View notes

serverusslaype · 1 year ago

Text

Shameless, pt. 3

snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

hey yall B) it's time for part 3.. i'm hoping i've done this chapter justice, though i am a little doubtful, only because this was sort of a filler chapter, it doesnt have muchhh plottt.... i just love the hateful/resentful relationship between the reader and snape at the moment, does that make me toxic lmao? :( </3

there is not much else to say, so i hope you enjoy this next part, honestly i have no idea how many parts there is going to be, i'm sort of writing it until i'm happy with what happens sort of thing.

anyway, it's lights out and away we goooo!! (if you get this reference i love u)

The chilly, biting air blew through you like a windstorm as you rushed to catch up with the strawberry-blonde author, the adrenaline that was pumping through you doing most of the work. Without a beat, you reached Lockhart, your hand colliding with his chest as you pushed him into a shadowed area; his back - once again - slamming against the wall with a thud.

A look of shock and complete, utter fear was spread on the Gilderoy's face as you pointed your wand in his sorry face. "As I was saying before, Lockhart," you growled, prodding the tip of your wand into his chest, "If you ever pull that shit again, I will not hesitate to have you removed from this school." You huffed, clenching your jaw. Gods, you could kill him, honestly! "What in the ever sweet-loving hell were you thinking? A student could have been harmed!" You hissed at the man, who had now composed himself. Honestly, you were holding back from hexing him. "Actually, Longbottom almost was!" You added, fire in your eyes.

"I'm sorry, truly, I am." Lockhart said guardedly, watching you with cautious eyes as you stepped back to give him some space. "It wasn't my intention, I promise you-"

"Incompetence is not tolerated at Hogwarts, Lockhart, believe me." You warned him, allowing yourself to calm down a little bit. You might've gotten a little carried away.

"Understandably." Lockhart replied, his eyes flicking between yours and your wand

"I'm glad we have an understanding." You said coldly and gestured for him to leave. If you looked at him again, you were worried you might lose your cool. You'd never gotten so angry with someone before, but placing students in harms way because of a stupid mistake truly pisses you off. It's shameful.

The crunch of Lockhart's boots against the ground faded out into the cold, bitter air as he scurried away. You stood still for a moment to gather yourself and your thoughts, running a stressed hand through your long hair.

"Feel better?" A sudden deep, husky voice came from behind you. You almost jumped out of your skin as you spun around to find Snape, equipped with an amused smirk on his white face as he relished in your fright.

"Bloody hell, Snape!" You scoffed, throwing a hand against your chest. Where did he come from, didn't he leave earlier? Was he following me? You wondered to yourself, a suspicious frown landing on your face. That familiar burning sensation began to creep up onto your cheeks and neck as you looked at him.

"For a Hufflepuff, you're certainly… fiery." The corner of his lips quirked upwards as he clasped his hands behind his back. You swallowed thickly as he stepped towards you, your heart beginning to pound again once more. "Perhaps the sorting hat made a grave mistake all those years ago." He added, articulating each word perfectly, tilting his head at you. You rolled your eyes at him, standing your ground. You refused to let him intimidate you again. You were equals now, and you wanted him to treat you like one. Snape's face twisted into a taunting sneer. "After witnessing your reckless yet, dare I say, impressive outburst, you would have made a fine Slytherin student."

"Oh, what an honour." You groaned sarcastically. What a backhanded… compliment? You weren't sure. Despite your confident facade, you could feel the walls you'd built crumbling as Snape leaned forwards at you, his lips curling into a face of disgust at your reply. "I am not selfish, nor arrogant. I would rather put others before myself." A rush of anxiety washed through you, like you'd just missed a step on the stairs.

"Ah yes, the most obvious downfall of Hufflepuffs. Selflessness." Snape smirked at you. He was clearly enjoying how easy it was to get under your skin and irritate you. Gods, he was driving you crazy, and you honestly didn't want to know whether it was the good or bad way.

Most definitely the latter, let's be serious here. "Ah yes, truly sorry that we also value people other than ourselves." You mocked the Potions Master, secretly desiring a reaction from him. Though, he didn't say anything, he only kept the smug smirk on his lips, his eyes narrowing at you as he studied you. It's like he knew what you wanted and he refused to give it to you.

The silence was deafening, and it was making you squirm underneath his nose. You hated the way he could command a moment perfectly.

"A brave little thing, aren't you?" Snape said. Little thing? Who did he think he was?

"Why did you follow me, Snape?" You questioned him, ignoring his demeaning insult. You were curious as to why he followed you, surely there were better things to do than pursue the Herbology professor. "I was merely curious as to why you took off at such speed." He answered matter-of-factly.

"Hm," You clenched your jaw, "and were you satisfied with your findings?" You asked tauntingly. Your breath hitched as he stepped towards you again, making you step backwards until your back hit the wall. Your chest was quite obviously heaving at this point, and you were doubtful it was to do with your frustration.

The wizard stared at you for a beat, observing your movements. "It doesn't bode well for you to be found reprimanding your colleagues, Professor L/N." Snape simply said, disregarding your previous question

"I believe you would think different, had you seen what I did, Snape." You replied with a frown. "Pixies were flying freely in his class, causing utter chaos and torment to the students- I mean, they'd hung Longbottom by the hood of his cloak on the chandelier!"

"Lockhart will not last here, we both know that, L/N." Snape declared, leaning back slightly, as if to back off from you. The hostility in him was still present, though. "As for Longbottom, I'm not surprised. That boy is always finding himself in perilous situations." He added, glancing to the right momentarily with a look of disgust. He looked back at you, sending your heart into a rapid beat once more. "I suggest you keep your nose out of things that don't concern you."

"Lockhart came to me." You laughed dryly, offended that he'd assumed you were drawn to the drama. "He came to me for help."

"Poor choice, clearly." Snape sneered. You opened your mouth to bite back at him. "However, possibly a smart move. Choosing the faculty fledgling. Easy to use. Though, evidently, Lockhart did not possess the foresight to see that it would backfire on him. He clearly misjudged your… spunky character." He continued, making you snort. He cocked a questioning brow at the noise. "Do not mistake me, I did take pleasure in watching you admonish that blundering fool."

You were shocked to say the least, to actually hear something positive fall from Snape's lips. Did he really just say that? You stood there, dumbfounded, staring up at him.

"You look startled, Professor L/N," The Potions Master smirked down at you. Understandably, you were speechless. "Is it such a foreign concept for you to hear me speak well of you?"

"I'm astounded that you're surprised by that. It's a rare occasion that you dish out positive feedback, let alone compliments. I thought you were more self-aware than this, Snape." You said, feigning confusion. Snape's smugness was soon wiped clean as another more familiar facial expression of his took residence upon his features - a stone-cold glare

You couldn't help the tiny smile that tugged at the corners of your lips, an unusual warmth blooming in your stomach. Yes, you were truly taking pride in successfully insulting Severus Snape - at this point, who wouldn't?

"Touché." Snape glared at you. Another moment of silence passed through you and Snape as you stared each other down. It was weirdly intimate, again. The two of you seemed to be forming a habit of this.

Snape was the first to break. You gasped softly as the Potions Master swiftly swept away from you, his cloak billowing out behind him like a wave that refused to break. You've come to understand that goodbyes are not in Snape's vocabulary.

Watching him walk down the hallway, you presumed to his quarters, you let your head fall back against the wall behind you. A quiet sigh of relief fell from your lips. You weren't sure how long you could keep up this hateful mask to hide your blooming affection for him. It was easier to pretend that you hated him, even though he sometimes did nearly push you to that extreme.

A week or so went by without another close encounter with Snape, and you were surprisingly content with that fact. It gave you time to process everything and most importantly - settle into your new position as the Herbology professor. You'd partially seen him in the Great Hall for breakfast, lunch and dinner, or whilst walking in the hallways but you never evoked a conversation with him. You acknowledged him with a polite nod, but that was it.

After that unorthodox interaction with him in the hallway that night, the hostility had simmered down between you two. Sure, he was bound to say something tongue-in-cheek soon enough, but you'd avoided him because of that risk, and also to do with the fact that your crush on him was truly growing out of your control. You were just hoping he didn't notice.

Today was a Saturday, and it was around ten o'clock or so in the morning. Since you had no classes today, you thought you'd complete an inventory check, to replace and monitor the levels of herbs and other plant bits and bobs you had. You'd just finished four classes worth of grading after starting at eight o'clock, so you were craving something practical, really. The constant repetitiveness of reading the same thing over and over again almost sent you into an eternal slumber. No Wiggenweld or Wideye potion could have saved you.

As you dug through your cabinets in your greenhouse, you noticed some things were missing. "Huh." You muttered to yourself, sitting back on your haunches, observing the storage unit. You leaned forwards and rummaged through it again, assuming you'd miscounted.

No, you weren't wrong. Things were missing.

Billywig stings, Chinese chomping cabbage, dandelion roots, dittany… Your nose scrunched up in slight annoyance as your mind immediately thought of Snape. McGonagall did mention at the beginning of the year that he might snoop through your cabinets and take some ingredients for his Potions classes. You just didn't expect him to take this much.

Luckily for him, you were in a pleasant mood, so you weren't inclined to scold him for stealing from you, but rather just have a word. Not that he'd care if you did choose to berate him.

You sighed as you stood up from kneeling, your hands brushing off your now dusty skirt. Off you go, to the damp and dingy dungeons - not particularly one of your favourite places at Hogwarts. The weather had really changed over the past few days, it was now nearing the end of September, and so the rain and clouds had really started to take hold. As of right now, it was quite dark and dingy outside, the clouds almost black, like a warning to stay inside. You groaned at the depressing sight. Spring was your favourite season of the year, of course, being a Herbologist.

Quickly scurrying out of your greenhouse, across the outside courtyards and towards an entrance to the castle, your hand rose up to protect your head as a drizzle of rain started to fall. Reluctantly making your way to where Professor Snape resided, a rush of anxiety and butterflies stirred in your stomach. Was this a bad idea? Probably. Were you going to turn back? Possibly.

As you neared the spiral staircase down to the dungeons, a sick feeling gathered within you. Almost like a gut feeling. Perhaps this was a bad idea. You stopped in your tracks for a moment, torn between the desire of running away back to your greenhouse, pretending like you had no clue that Snape had been in your greenhouse and taken some things, and the desire of giving him a piece of your mind, respectfully, of course.

You shook your head to yourself, as if to rid your mind of your doubts, and so you carried on downwards, the smell of damp earth and what seemed to be decaying stone, interwoven with fresh moss. It wasn't too pleasant, but it was bearable, and it reeled you back to your time at Hogwarts when you used to travel down here for your Potions classes with none other than the brooding Professor Snape himself.

Your nose scrunched up as you thought back to the amount of times he had berated you in class for messing up such simple instructions, but you just weren't cut out to be a potioneer; Herbology was your calling.

You hesitated on the last step of the stairs, suddenly regretting your idea of paying the Bat a visit. Fuck it, you thought. You needed to establish some sort of boundaries.

A voice pulled you from your thoughts as you halted your body.

"Professor L/N," Snape's recognisable deep baritone rang out in the dark, gloomy hallway of the dungeons. His tone was almost questioning. It was a given, considering you were not a common passer-by in the dungeons. Thinking about it, this was probably your first time down here in a long time. His lips just uttering your name sent a chill down your spine. You cursed yourself for that. You had to squint slightly to spot his tall, broad and black figure in the shadows, partially illuminated by the torchlights hung against the walls.

"Professor Snape," You greeted back awkwardly. He stood straight, face adorned with his usual cold stare, one hand falling from the knob of his classroom door and moving to clasp his other behind his back. He was clearly waiting for you to explain your reasoning as to why you were down here, but you were sure he had inkling as to why. He wasn't stupid. "Erm." Your mind went blank. This was fucking embarrassing.

You glanced up at Snape, watching him tilt his head at you. He was silent. He was obviously enjoying your squirming as you tried to think of something to say to him.

"I've noticed some things missing from my cabinets." You finally said, trying to push aside the waves of embarrassment that were currently flooding your body. "I'm presuming it's you taking the ingredients?" You questioned quietly, avoiding the risk of conflict with Snape again. As much as it's fun to push his buttons, you did not have the energy this morning.

"Good observation." Snape said blankly, stalking towards you slowly. You felt your heart pick up in speed as another rush of anxiety ran through you.

"I appreciate the fact that you need them for your lessons, but I'd also appreciate the fact if you'd at least tell me." You said politely, desperate to keep the conversation calm and somewhat civil, watching nervously as he walked closer to you. You forgot how intimidating he could be when you weren't fueled by adrenaline and rage.

Snape cocked a brow at you, his eyes narrowing a tad as he studied your face. Your eyes were partially widened, lips parted to some degree. It was a very drastic change from the angry one he'd witnessed in the hallway.

"Would you like me to leave you a poem, and a cookie, too?" Snape teased you with a haughty look, purposefully provoking you. A quiet sigh slipped your lips as you rolled your eyes. That familiar mixture of irritation and lust rushed through your body.

"And here I thought we could have a civil conversation." You said bitterly, looking up into his dark, almost black eyes. Your cheeks burned hotter as you stared up at him. Snape was silent for a moment as he watched you. There was that rage again, bubbling inside you.

"How foolish of you." He simply said, that common amused smirk tugging at his lips. You felt your fists ball again, your nails digging painfully into your palms. This was a mistake for sure, you were in such a good mood today, and one visit to Snape had unravelled that. Gods, he was such an ass.

"Clearly." You bit back, venom sizzling in your voice. Snape's brow quirked at your tone, his eyes flicking between yours, as if trying to read your thoughts.

"If you have come to lecture me on my habits, Professor L/N, then you have come in vain." Snape said, looking down at you, observing your restless movements.

"Why? Too far up your own ass to accommodate other people's wishes?" You challenged him, though, you slightly regretted your choice of words almost immediately. Sometimes, you wondered how this man made you lose your temper and the leash on your tongue so easily.

"You are way out of your depth here, L/N." Snape warned you, his voice darkening.

Yeah, you were fully aware of that. Though, being the stubborn person you were, you refused to back down from Snape. This also seemed to be becoming a habit.

"Perhaps," you noted, quirking your lip, "or am I just making a good observation?" The rush of adrenaline pumped through you again, prompting your brave and daring words. You did not want to make an enemy out of Snape, but his rude and unnecessary comments were starting to grate against your patience. A beat of silence passed over the two of you before he spoke again.

"Will that be all, Professor L/N?" Snape glared at you, his patience wearing thin with you. The wizard's voice was harsh, almost biting. Maybe you really did piss him off this time. As much as you wanted to continue throwing insults at him to satisfy your own selfish needs, you should really take this moment to leave. Avoid making things worse, no?

"In truth, no," You shook your head at him, prompting a roll of his eyes. You clenched your jaw at his reaction. "I'd like it if you did actually leave a note or something along those lines to let me know what you've taken and used." You said calmly, trying to avoid another bout of conflict with Snape. The two of you seemed to butt heads constantly, probably due to your rather obvious differences.

"Yes, yes. I'll be sure to do that the next time I require your herbs or plants." Snape replied curtly, seemingly a little tired of this conversation.

Your face quickly twisted into a contortion of shock and confusion.

"…Okay… thank you?" You stumbled, frowning suspiciously at him. So, he just accepts your demand? Like that? Is this what it's like to be treated as an equal? Whatever you could get, you were going to take it. Just bite the bullet and leave, you thought. This was it.

Or was this some sort of mind-fuck?

"Do not thank me." Snape scoffed, his hands still clasped behind his back menacingly. Ah, no, there it was, you thought. 'Thank you' did not exist in his vocabulary either, then?

"So close, yet so far." You muttered amusedly, tilting your head at Snape curiously. You waited for another glare from him for being a smart-arse, but instead, Snape's lips quirked up into a smirk - an amused one at that.

It was a weird interaction. But with Snape, things were going to be weird; he wasn't a normal person. You'd be beating a dead horse if you wanted him to act like an average human being.

In secret, over the past few encounters with you, he'd grown respect to you - albeit a little - but it was enough. Satisfactory. In regards to the tongue-in-cheek, bordering offensive comments that fell from his lips, he only tended to push your buttons because you made it so easy for him, he found it rather entertaining to get under your skin and irritate you. In fact, it was highly amusing to him. For all his time at Hogwarts, it was refreshing to have someone that could keep up with his remarks and keep him on his toes, however annoying you may become. Although, he would never admit that to you… unless poisoned with Veritaserum.

"I have some grading to do." Snape announced, breaking the silence and your train of thought, continuing to stare down at you, inferring that he was indeed leaving now. You swallowed, nodding. The air surrounding you two was… weird, you couldn't put your finger on it. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it also wasn't comfortable.

"Likewise, Snape."

"Severus," he corrected you, narrowing his eyes, "you may call me Severus. We are, after all… colleagues now." Severus said, hesitating like he was almost inclined to say equals. You felt your heart leap into your mouth at the correction and you blinked quickly, a little taken aback at how he had suddenly changed. It was like you'd finally broken through his first defences and possibly earned some sort of respect. Perhaps he was testing you those past times, seeing how far you'd go, seeing if you'd break down and leave Hogwarts because of his relentless and cruel remarks. Nonetheless, you persevered through it and came out on top, despite the probable heightened blood pressure caused by the frustration and stress he gave you.

Still speechless from what he'd said, you stared up at him with big, wide eyes. "I suppose you may call me Y/N." You said quietly, your cheeks beginning to tint pink again from the intense gaze the two of you were holding. There it is, you inwardly groaned as your body betrayed you in front of Severus once again. At this point, there was more chance of you becoming the Minister of Magic than hiding your feelings. It was only going to get worse, you thought helplessly.

Severus tilted his head at you for a moment, observing you before swiftly turning around with a dramatic twirl of his cloak and floating into his office, the door shutting behind him with a heavy thud.

What a start to the year this has been…

ok so there's part 3, i'm not quite sure if i like how it ended, but i'll keep it for now. i do like the part where they exchange first names, sort of like the first bit of them tolerating each other B)

-> next on the agenda, the dueling club scene because that is just too good not to include omg. might change it up a bit tho.. we shall see!

this was lowkey an unintentional enemies to lovers fic i wont lie lmfao

once again thank you for reading, if you enjoyed it please let me know!! 🩷

part 4

taglist:

@a-laufeyson

@emilynissangtr

@livillain00

@meowskii

@nooneeveryonenoone

#pro severus snape #severus x reader #severus snape x reader #pro snape #pro severus #snape x reader #severus snape x professor!reader #professor severus snape x reader #professor snape #professor!reader #harry potter #hp fandom #hp #hp fanfic #severus snape #snape #snape fandom #severus snape fandom #snapedom

477 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

Text

Shameless

Sequel to Graceless

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, dejection, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The reader attempts to move past her ruination, but is reminded of her tarnish conscience at every turn. (Regency AU, tall!reader)

Character: Steve Rogers, Thor Odinson

Note: Here we are. The sequel but not the end.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like I love coffee and that’s a lot and probably unhealthy. Take care. 💖

The string of the glove’s seam trails loosely from the thumb. You twist the thread, playing with it, but doing little to mend it. Even with a needle in hand, you have no whim to darn. There are many things in life that cannot be repaired no matter how you try. Occurrences which cannot be taken back.

You pull at the seam until a hole forms in it. You poke your finger through with no heed for the glove’s integrity. You detest that pair anyhow. The very same you wore… that day.

Albina lays at the foot of the bed, her head bent back over the edge as she peruses one of her novellas. Hannah and Cora disappeared ages ago and you only just heard them through the windows. They are likely causing chaos in the gardens. You hope your mother finds them and issues a reprimand for their immaturity.

The autumn thins the air as it creeps in around the window frame and you smell that discerning scent of dirt and leaves. Only a week and it feels as if the whole world has changed seasons. Your world has transformed irrevocably.

There’s a clatter and you glance over as Albina rolls onto her side. She’s always hated to be disturbed amid her stories. She huffs and falls onto her back to begin again, but the door bursts open, your two other sisters tromping through with excitement.

Albina shuts her book loudly and sighs as she sits up. You go back to your exploration of the glove, watching the thread stretch along the seam as you tug. If only that were Cora. If only you could rent her pretty hair from her pretty head. Or in the least, swat the smug grin from her lips.

You can’t even look at her. It just makes you think of him. Of how stupid you’d been. You believed his promises were meant for you but it’s only as you relive that haunting episode every night that you realise, he never proclaimed his intent for you, only alluded to a vague offer. Another mean trick.

“Lord Rogers has sent a gift,” Cora trills as she stands at the vanity, shuffling something unseen before her. Hannah stands at her side, bouncing with anticipation.

“Oh, what do you think it is?” Hannah chimes.

“Could you not unveil it in the sunroom, where there is no one reading?” Albina says as she drags herself to the edge of the bed, resting her book on her skirts.

“Could you not get your head out of those ridiculous fancies,” Cora retorts over her shoulder, “if you ever do for long enough, you might just find a husband too.”

You don’t look up. You refuse to give her the satisfaction. You haven’t missed her wandering glances, how she taunts you without even a word. She turns back to her gift and rustles beneath the thick paper.

“Oh, heavens,” she swoons and spins, “isn’t it beautiful?”

“Are those rubies?” Hannah preens.

“I think.”

“Garnet?” Albina suggests.

“No, no, surely they are rubies,” Cora insists. “Do you see?” She swirls around the room closer to you, “I must find the perfect gown to wear with this. Oh, he would fawn to see me in his ribbon, wouldn’t he, sister?”

You grip the glove tight as her figure looms over you. With your other hand, you clutch the needle, letting it jab into your palm until your eyes prick. You nod, “very beautiful.”

You stand the moment you get the words free of your dry throat. You try to smile but can only muster a strained grimace. You try to step past Cora but she moves with you.

“You’ve not even looked,” she says, “how would know how beautiful it is?”

“Cora, please.”

“No, no, have a look. It’s so elegant, isn’t it?”

You clamp your lips together. Your insides tangle painfully. Even as the tenderness leaves the bruises in your thighs, you swear they hurt just as much as the day after. You sniff.

“Please, move out of my way,” you beg.

“Oh, sister, why must you be so dour? Is that jealousy I sense?”

“No,” you snarl. Jealousy. Oh, something much deeper, something agonizing. “I said move.”

“Move? Well, it looks like I am the first to wear a title so it is me who should be issuing the orders, don’t you think?”

“Oh, Cor, you are not duchess yet,” Albina reproaches, “let her pass.”

The heat rises up your back and crawls onto your neck. You feel like you’re suffocating. You feel like the walls are closer together, as if the world is hewn in fire. It is all burning down around you.

“She is being a sour little brat about it, Al,” Cora snaps, “it isn’t fair of her to ruin my engagement. I don’t know where she ever got the idea that Lord Rogers had any mind for h–”

You don’t think. You need to get out of here. You shove Cora out of your way and stomp past her as she gasps. You drop the glove as the needle sinks further into your palm. You sweep out of the door and hurry down the corridor. You hear her, whining pitifully as you flee.

“She shoved me! She–”

“Oh, you did goad her,” Albina’s quiet scolding follows you to the stairs, “put that ribbon away, you’ll only ruin it.”

Ruin…

The word clings to you as you barrel down the stairs, as if running from your own shame and anger. You love your sister, you would never wish anything horrid on her, but you can’t help that small whisper in your mind that suggests that Lord Rogers may just treat her as cruelly as he has done you.

💙

The autumn continues its slow advance, nipping in the air and at the foliage alike. You smell the crispness as it wafts through the open window of the carriage, cooling the cluster of bodies within. Your father rides with the driver, guffawing loudly with the clop of hooves. Your mother fans herself as she needles away with her relentless critique.

…Albina, push your shoulders back; Hannah, keep your lips shut tight, you don’t need horseflies wandering in; You, fix your bonnet, it is dipping at the front; Oh, Cora, isn’t that a lovely ribbon…

You try not to mope. The more you do, the more pleasure Cora takes in her victory. You will forget it, you will go on as you’ve ever done. Dejected. You fold one hand around the other, your palm tender from the bite of the needle still wrought into your flesh.

You look up as the carriage slows. The lush green of the promenade tinges with edges of russet and patches of goldenrod. Lords and ladies stroll along the brickwork walkway, skirts swishing around languid steps, arms hooked in one another, others perched upon benches or huddled around the grand fountain at the center.

Your father climbs down as the driver unlatches the door. Your mother emerges first, her fan clapping shut sharply and knocking against the frame. Cora is second, then Albina, Hannah, and yourself. You come out behind them and feel your height all the more. You hunch and grip your wrist tight.

“Do not slouch,” your mother looks back and raps your arm with her fan, “no lord wants to walk alongside a hobbling giant.”

“Yes, mother,” you correct yourself and let your vision drift off into a vacant blur.

“Ladies,” a familiar timbre approaches with a pair of footsteps, “you’ve arrived.”

You refuse to look at Lord Rogers as he stands just along your peripheral. He greets your mother with a cordial bow of his head and shakes your father’s hand. At last, he addresses his betrothed as she wiggles in her skirts and nearly squeaks.

“Lord Rogers,” she drawls, “I wore the rubies.”

“Beautiful,” he praises, “my lady, might I request a stroll upon the promenade?”

“Aye, you may,” your father answers, volunteering himself as escort.

“Sir,” Rogers accepts elegantly and offers his arm to Cora, “and perhaps a few more daughters might care to join us?”

“They will remain with me,” your mother insists, “we would like to see the roses.”

You wait until they’ve departed to dare a peek at them. Lord Rogers struts away confidently with his arm through Cora’s. Your father trails them with his brass-tipped cane. Your ribs rack as if they might collapse in on themselves.

“Come girls, the autumn will wilt away the roses,” your mother declares, “let us make our rounds, perhaps we might have two engagements this season, hm?”

You linger behind the others. You keep your head down as you watch the toes of your boots poke out from beneath your skirts with each step. Your led by the hem of your sisters ahead of you.

As you approach the hoop of rose bushes, there is an unexpected furor. Voices trill and flutter, a booming laugh that rolls like thunder. You raise your eyes and see a blond head above a cluster of hats. You don't recognise the lord amid the clan of amused men.

"How rowdy," your mother remarks in her curmudgeon way.

She ignores the pluck of glee for the thorny tangles. Hannah and Albina give longing looks to the uproar but dutifully accompany your mother to the hedges. The eldest of your quartet pets the paling pink petals and grieves the browning at the edges.

The dullness of that moment feels like a promise. This is how life will always be for someone like you. You will never know excitement, you will only ever be a witness, a scrap of collateral left to squander.

You pretend to admire the greenery. The colours are faded and worn. Just like everything since that night. As you are.

You smell the leaves and the pollen and you're taken back to that moonlit moment. The cool air on your skin, the friction of his figure, his weight trapping you on the stone.

The leaves mesh together in a tapestry of swirling hues. You quickly dab your eyes before your tears can spill over. Those bouts come suddenly and dry up just as soon. You cannot let it take you here.

An emptiness enshrines you and you peer over to find yourself all alone. Your sisters and your mother have left you, forgotten you. Not such an unexpected plight but painful nonetheless. You turn in search of them and nearly collide with another.

You press yourself to the bushes behind you and swallow a gasp, creaking out an apology.

"Apologies, my lord, I did not see you–"

"Lady," the man greets with a courteous dip of his chin, looking down at you. Down! He is even taller than you.

The same lord with the blond hair who had a crowd raucous. You do not know him. He is rather older than any courtly debut.

"You mustn't catch yourself," he reaches around you delicately and untangles a fold of your skirt from the thorny vines, "it is too fine a dress to tarnish."

"Thank you, sir, it seems I am a bit obtuse at the moment," you force a smile.

He is very handsome. He eyes a brighter shade than even Lord Rogers and his hair even more golden. That comparison urges you back to the ground. You are still you and you cannot be so foolish as to let yourself believe contrary ever again.

"Might I–"

"I spy–"

You speak at the same time and both correct yourself. You defer and touch your lips in embarrassment, "apologies, once more, I keep treading on your toes."

"I have tough toes," he japes, "I meant to ask if I might have your name."

"Oh, yes, sir," you give him your name, "I admit I am ignorant of your own identity."

"Ah, yes, I have come from far," he grins, "Lord Thor Odinson, of Asgard."

"Asgard, why that is very far," you comment, "well, sir, it was a delight to meet you. Welcome to our homeland."

"A privilege," he returns, "if I might be so forward, as I am a stranger to this land, I would extend to you an invitation to dinner as I acquaint myself with your country. Would that be too improper?"

"Sir," you flutter your fingers at your side as you stand awkwardly before him, "I would needs ask my father."

"Yes, certainly you would, as you are unwed," he says as if untwining a riddle, "I do hope you will be permitted."

"My lord," you bow your head, "my mother…"

You look past him to your mother's fan as she beckons to you with it. Lord Odinson steps aside and extends his arm in gallant dismissal. You shift to move past him.

"Thank you, my lord."

"Allow me to thank you, lady, for entertaining my tedious conversation," he counters and you quickly flit away.

You near your mother as your other sisters crowd her. She is jibbering behind her fan, "...an ambassador," she says and snaps together the folds, "I hope you did not spoil our welcome."

"Mother?" You look at her in confusion, your cheek hot and tingling still.

"With that Lord, he did invite us to a dinner," she explains, "it would be very important for your father."

You shake your head. You don't argue. Ah, but the invitation was extended to all. Are you so foolish to think otherwise? You must shield yourself in the harsh lesson you've been taught. You are not and can never be special.

💙

The night of Lord Odinson's dinner arrives. You wear a gown of black patterned with deep green vines. Plain attire in contrast to Cora's shining scarlet silk, Alvina's buoyant blue bodice, and Hannah's deep rose sleeves. You add a simple beaded ribbon around your head, and a string of pearls around your neck.

"Dour," your mother remarks as she emerges in a tangerine satin, "ah, Cora, my darling, you look splendid. And to think, now that your engagement is public, you will be a pretty ornament on Lord Rogers' arm."

"Mother," she preens, averting her eyes in feigned modesty.

You clutch your reticule tight and glance over as you hear the approach of hooves. It is Lord Rogers' coach. The vehicle bustles towards the gates, open in expectation of him, and you look away. You can hardly bear the sight of red paint that decorates the doors.

His driver slows and breaks in the dirt. He greets your father as ever, gallant and proper. You put your teeth over your lower lip and peek up, catching the glint of Rogers' sapphire irises. His cheek dimples as his brows twitch. You swiftly rescind your gaze, favouring the dust on your slippers to him. He is as handsome as ever but to you, he is a vile cad. A demon clothed in cravat and vest.

He helps your mother first into the coach, then Cora, Hannah, Alvina, and finally yourself. He extends his gloved hand to you and you stare at his palm with disgust. You put your hand in his and step up into the vehicle. He squeezes before he lets go, a subtle tug on your skirt as you duck inside.

You sit on the bench between Albina and Hannah. You play with the strap of your reticule, focusing on it as you coil it like a snake. You only need to survive the journey to lord's manor. You've survived worse, and all at his hand.

💙

The manor is called The Nine Pillars, a rather strange name for a house, but referenced by the columns set into the stone walls. Each is topped with the facsimile of a different beast's head; a lion, a boar, a bear, a wolf, a falcon, a stallion, a bull, a viper, and an elephant. You lean over Albina to take it in, only to be nudged back to the middle.

You sigh and trail the part from the court. Attendants await your arrival at the broad steps of the manor house, the style much unlike that of the other courtly homes. The peak of the house resembles a warship overturned and the walls are without the typical white wash. It is very antiquated yet refined.

You enter the glowing hall, the glass lamps hung from the walls lit in an illuminating speckle. Voices carry from the drawing room where other guests gather and the bustle of the house staff flutters around the corridors and clamours from the kitchen. Your stole is taken by a groom and you nod in acknowledgement at his diligence. Your stomach swirls nervously.

The drawing room is a cluster of swishing skirts, flapping fans, and waggling coat tails. Your mother and father greet another older couple as your sisters disperse; Cora to show off her betrothed, Albina to whisper to Maria about her novels, and Hannah to gossip about the newest debuts. You find yourself lost before the sea of elegant figures.

You wade towards them, weaving between the bodies, looking around for any sense of welcome. Those who do see you, turn away quickly, as others pretend not to notice your towering form. You will find a place on the wall as you ever do.

"Lady," a deep voice calls but you don't bother to hear it. It cannot possibly be directed at you. It calls again, several times, before pronouncing your name. You spin to face Lord Odinson before you can retreat to your setinel against the wallpaper.

"My Lord," you greet him, "pardon me, there is much going on, I mustn't have heard you calling."

"Ah, but forgive me, it is rather uncouth to be shouting," he stops before you, "my mother always said I did blow in like a storm."

"Oh," you nod politely. You're not used to someone looking you in the eye, not without having to awkwardly contort your posture.

"She would like you, very much, I think."

"Why would you think that, my lord? You hardly know me."

"But I see you, a strong woman, built like a valkyrie. You are resilient and might I so forwardly say, resplendent."

"Sir?" You peer around, looking for an audience, for someone in collusion taking amusement from his false interest. It is always a trick.

"Again, I am the tempest, I cannot be subtle, not with a lady so stunning. Awe-inspiring. If I am the storm, you must be the sky," he remarks boldly.

You face him, a frown.

"Lady, it is a compliment," his face turns sober, "I hope I didn't overstep--"

"It is a joke. Who do you make laugh? For who am I the farce tonight?"

"Joke? Not at all. Never," he glances around the room. He is quiet as he takes in those around him. As he sees their elusive eyes and cold shoulders. "They cannot see what is right in front of them. A goddess--"

"No," you nearly sob, "no. I am not goddess." You bow your head, as you hear that same word from enough, a memory; Athena. "No sir," you put your chin up defiantly, "I will not be fooled by you."

"Fooled, my lady--"

"Excuse me," you shuffle away from him, "I need air..."

"Lady," he calls again but you elude him, delving into the crowd, marching away with head and shoulders down.

As you near the door, you hear a familiar laugh. You look to find Lord Rogers with Cora on his arm, his golden hair shining, her locks perfectly spiraled and set. He tilts his head towards her, "I call her my Athena," he says loudly, as if he knows you are listening, "for I worship her."

His eyes flick up and meet yours. You recoil and spin on your heel. Scalded, you flee into the hall and huddle into an alcove. No one would notice if you stayed out here all night.

💙

You sit among the guests at the table. The women chatter as the men speak in low voices about their business or some writ tabled in session that morning. You do neither as you're isolated in the fervor. As sherry and wine flows generously, you partake only of lemon water and loneliness.

You peer down the table and find yourself drawn to a pair of eyes. Lord Odinson. Where you expect tension or disappointment, you find only an amiable smile. He is almost dreamy as he watches you. You turn in your seat and look at Albina next to you, she's bent so far toward Hannah in her whispering that he likely cannot even see you.

You keep your gaze on the table. You will not encourage him. Lord Rogers taught you caution, he taught you your worth and not to think yourself above it. You feel suddenly sick, as if you could spew onto the table.

There is the clink of glass and someone clears their throat. The buzz around you hushes and all turn to the head of the table. You look over reluctantly. It is Lord Odinson, the host, about to make his toast. He stands, a crystal glass in hand.

"Welcome and thank you all for attending. You've all made me feel rather at home," he raises his glass and the guests mirror him. You lift yours a few seconds too late. He sets down the flute and continues, "and while you've all ingratiated me so kindly, I hope you might tolerate a little piece of my homeland."

He pauses and gestures to someone you can't see. A servant comes forward, holding a wooden box carved with symbols you don't recognise. Runes, perhaps.

"In my faith, there are the Valkyrie. They are the embodiment of female power and prestige and thus they are the keeper of our culture, of our ways. They are fertile and beautiful. So it is that each season, one lady is crowned as Valkyrie. I understand that I've come late but I am honoured to spend the season here, in your society. Thus, tonight has been more than a dinner..."

He stops as the servant opens the box. He takes out a crown of daisies wrought in gold and silver. He presents it to the room with a smile.

Cora leans forward as her eyes round in greed and the other women sit up, admiring the piece of jewelry and peeking at each other. You don't move, you stare at the wall and wait. You wonder who it will be. Maybe Cora or Maybelle and her doe eyes.

There is another lull, swollen with anticipation and intrigue. Lord Odinson gives a soft chuckle before he declares his valkyrie. No one speaks, none says a word. You blink. He speaks again.

You feel a nudge on your elbow as Albina leans towards you and whispers, "it's you."

You glance at her, then along the table. Cora's eyes are narrowed at you and Lord Rogers looks like he's chewing his own tongue. You turn your attention to Lord Odinson, trapped in surprise and disbelief.

"Yes, lady, please, come and claim your crown."

You grasp the arms of the chair and push it out as you rise. You walk stiffly, keenly aware of those watching you. You stride down the long table and near Lord Odinson. He faces you and hovers the crown over your head. You bow and he lowers it on, wiggling it to be sure it's firmly in place.

"It is I who shoulder defer to you, sweet lady," he lowers himself to a knee and bows his head, "our valkyrie."

The silence looms. You refuse to look back. You feel the stare, the disapproval, and disappointment. There's a clap and you flinch. Then another, and slowly the applause build.

Lord Odinson stands again and takes your hand, placing a kiss on your fingers. You meet his eyes, so intense you could melt.

"As I said," he keeps his timbre low, "it was not a joke."

💙

"Can I see it?" Albina asks as you go to set the crown on the narrow table.

"Oh, certainly," you turn to her. You're still burning with excitement. It's only one night, it doesn't mean anything, but it is a good night.

You hand her the crown and she takes it, admiring the craftwork with aw and showing it to Hannah as she nears. She places it on her head and rocks her shoulders.

"I am the valkyrie," she japes.

"No, I am the valkyrie," Hannah snatches the crown and dawns it.

"You are both children," Cora sneers as she shoves her ribbon of rubies into her jewelry box, "please, that lord is only here to pander to our king on his family's behalf. Nothing else."

"You're only jealous," Hannah rebukes.

"Am not," Cora stomps up and swipes the crown of daisies, "what would I need with a meaningless thing like this. Queen of what? The chimera? You don't even know what a valkyrie is."

"Nor do you," Hannah retorts.

"I do," Albina asserts, "they are an army of female warriors who lead the dead--"

"I do not give a fig," Cora flings the crown so it hits the bedframe and bounces off, "we don't believe in them here. That man is a fool."

"Oh, I saw you fawning over him, Cor," Albina goads, "don't lie. Rogers himself looked concerned."

"Fawning? Don't be silly."

You don't say a word as you go to fetch the crown from where it's fallen. You notice that one of the petals is bent out of shape. Oh, no.

"It's fine. She's right, it's just a silly crown."

"You all need to grow up," Cora insists, "as a woman soon to be married, I can see now how juvenile you lot are."

"Not married yet," Hannah snaps, "sooner the better if it means you're off."

"Charming, Hannah, I wonder why you've not had a proposal yet?"

Hannah waves her off with her hand and goes to Albina, "I'm tired. Help me out of my dress."

You turn away and set the crown on top of your own jewelry box. You take your time undoing the ribbon on your head and unclasping your pearls. You peel off your gloves and as you face the bed, you see Cora's hot glare.

"You'll see. That Lord Odinson will leave you behind and next season, you'll be on your way to a convent."

You swallow down her bitter words. Deep down, you don't doubt it. She is likely right but less than clairvoyant. You know better than any what your fate will be.

💙

You watch from the window as Cora walks in the gardens with Lord Rogers. Albina is in bed, moaning and rubbing her pelvis, as Hannah is downstairs with your mother stitching at her frame. The winds of autumn rattle the window frame and you back away, nervous to be caught observing.

You sit on the mattress and lean back against the pillow. Albina curls up on her side and faces you. You offer your hand and she latches on, squeezing. Her cramps have struck and she's already stained several shifts. Her blood has her in agony.

You don't mind keeping her company. Your own was due a week ago. You know because you've not stopped counting the days since... since Lord Rogers' proposal.

"I should hate to miss the promenade..." she mourns.

"You shouldn't miss very much," you assure her.

"Yes, but it will be cold soon. Too cold and it will snow and I will hate to go," she utters, "will you go?"

"Perhaps," you answer.

"And walk with Lord Odinson again?"

"If he wishes."

"I am certain he does. He is very friendly. Last night, when he told us of his families stronghold. About the mountains and the crossing rivers..."

"He has many stories," you agree, "and he tells them well."

"Oh, he does. He tells them for you."

"Pardon?" You nearly laugh.

"Sister, don't act clueless. He gave you his crown--"

"It was only a game."

"I do not think he plays."

"Why..."

"He always finds us on the promenade, doesn't he?"

"He is polite."

"Oh, you are stubborn."

You puff but don't argue further. She's wrong but she can't realise she is. She doesn't know what's happened, how you know for certain that he has no true intentions. That he cannot be any different than Lord Rogers.

💙

The hedges along the promenade are thinning. The roses have wilted away and the greenery curls and recedes. You wear a pair of lambskin gloves and an unlined cloak. It isn’t cold enough yet for fur.

As he does most days, Lord Rogers approaches to greet your family. Your mother and father bow to him briefly and bid their best before strolling off to meet with their peers. The betrothed couple will lead the way, as you walk behind with Hannah. Albina remains abed at home, her presence sorely missed as Hannah yawns and makes faces at the duke and his engaged.

You resist the urge to look around, to search for the man who crowned you valkyrie, the same who appeared at your side nearly every day. You restrained yourself from depending on his presence, from longing for it. He is a fleeting acquaintance, destined to return to Asgard one day. You shouldn't think so much of him.

“I wish we could have a summer wedding,” Lord Rogers declares, his voice raised loud enough for you to hear.

“But, my lord, that is so far away,” Cora protests, “so long as we wed before the snows, I will be content.”

“You, content. I am not mistaken, I know the sort of wife I’ve chosen,” he chides, “you only relish in that you might wear velvet.”

“Not at all my lord. I relish that I should marry you,” she preens, her arm hooked in his firmly.

You stare at the linking of their bodies. You remember the way he held you down, the way he cooed and coaxed, how he so softly coerced you. You should fear for your own sister, yet their misconceptions may be mutual.

“My ladies,” Lord Odinson’s voice precedes him and he steps up beside you, “and my lord. You are ashen, does the cold not agree with you?”

Lord Rogers glances over his shoulder, an edge in his jaw, “I handle it finely.”

You don’t mention he was only just longing for the summer. It isn’t any of your concern and you don’t very much care. Or you try not to.

“In Asgard, the winters, ah, they are splendid,” Odinson begins vibrantly, “there are days when the snow builds walls on its own and the next, they blow over to rippling oceans of frost. Endless and powdery.”

“Oh, we do not get so much snow here,” Hannah comments, “I don’t think I would survive such winters.”

You nod, listening intently as you picture the swirling snow and white dunes. It reminds you of a fairytale or a scene from one of Albina’s novels. Otherworldly and fantastical. Something entirely new and wonderful, but terrifying.

“And you, my valkyrie, would you face the blizzards?” Odinson challenges.

You hum thoughtfully. You know he is looking at you but you are too shy, too wary to return his gaze.

“I suppose with the proper cloak and a thick pair of boots, I might make it through, sir.”

“A coach and a horse, and any lady would say the same,” Rogers scoffs back at you, “girls hardly know the truth in matters of spirit. They can be overly presumptuous upon their own abilities.”

Odinson pushes his jacket back, hooking his finger in the pocket of his vest, “women are strong in ways men can never be. They carry lives, they bear the burden of the world, they maintain a grace lost on most men.”

“And the demure to the strength of men, to the wisdom they can never possess,” Rogers snaps back, laughing cruelly, “it is in the vows they take, is it not?”

“Only the strongest man can see the strength of women,” Odinson dismisses calmly, “my own mother keeps a pack of snow wolves. She goes out in the winter storms and reins her own sleigh. All while my father sits warm before his hearth. Her victories are not his losses.”

“Sounds rather quaint, Lord Odinson,” Rogers clucks, “your country strikes me as lacking civility.”

“Uncivil is a boring way of saying lively, and I promise, my home is much and more,” Odinson affirms, “but I think that fate has a way of placing us all where we belong, wouldn’t you agree?”

Rogers is quiet for a moment, his steps heavy as he strides on. He turns his head, his eye flicking between Odinson and yourself. He snorts and turns forward again.

“We must all take as we earn, accept what we do and do not get,” he says tritely, speaking animatedly with his hand in the air, “more often than not, we have only ourselves to thank… or blame.”

As cryptic as his words are, they are plain to you. That night with him was not unearned. Your foolishness bought your destruction. You must now live out your sentence of watching him walk arm in arm with another woman, your sister, everyday. You must accept that what he took can never be reclaimed.

💙

You sit in the garden, wrapped in a shawl as autumn breezes around the table. Your mother has a fur on her shoulders and your sisters chatter their teeth as they sip their tea. You rub your hands together, your gloves doing little against the crisp air. You suspect the days of dining without are close to done.

As you watch a leaf drift down from a branch, the hinges whine, and your father emerges from within. He gives an emphatic shiver as he claps his hands together. He seems rather pleases as he has his shoulders pushed back and his hat on a tilt.

"Daughters, my lovely wife, it is a beautiful day, is it not?"

You wonder at his uncharacteristic glee. Your father is ever practical and serious, on all matters. More so, he confounds as through the mutter of responses, he looks to you. You nod and agree with his sentiment softly.

"My daughter, my eldest, you... have a visitor."

You blink and withhold a grimace. He hates when you make faces. You force a smile and your voice crackles as you muster your voice.

"A visitor, father?"

"He is inside, he cannot have his tea alone," he says as if you should know who he alludes to.

You stand as Cora rolls her eyes, "who could be here for her?"

You notice how Albina and Hannah share a look. You cannot determine whether it is at your expense or Cora's.

"Daughter," your father drawls, "do not be sour that your betrothed eludes you."

"He does not--"

"So be happy for your sister and enjoy your tea."

She huffs and reaches for her cup. You step around her chair and approach your father. He smiles and as you near, he puts his hands on your arms. He is smiling. Genuinely.

"He has my blessing, of course, I will need accompany you to maintain propriety," he speaks quietly, "come."

You dip your chin down and meekly follow him inside. A servant pulls the door closed behind you. Your steps echo down the corridor as your father leads you to the sunroom. As you enter, there is some rustling and a subtle creak.

You peek up to find Lord Odinson standing with a hand on his vest. He bows to you and your father. You stop in the archway.

Your father proceeds, unaffected, and sits in the cushioned chair nearest the fireplace. He slaps his thighs as he splays his legs and grunts.

"Well, then, get on with it," your father grumbles.

Lord Odinson straightens his posture and gulps. He reaches up and toys with his cravat, the starch fabric already askew. He smiles, his cheeks reddening. He sways and looks between your father and yourself.

"I thought it very difficult to put this in ink but now I am here, I find the same is true of words," he says, laughing at his own joke, "so, lady, I trust this isn't very surprising to you. I've made my intentions clear and I've made your father a proposal, which he has graciously approved. Thus I put to you the question..." he twists his cravat, stops himself, then grips his jacket lapel, "would I be a fair husband to you? Er, or rather, would you... would you... honour me as a wife?"

The air stills and the chill that trailed you in dissipates. You blink dumbly and let your mouth fall open. You glance at your father. You understand his happiness now and yet you cannot believe it.

Your stomach churns and you clamp your mouth shut. The silence turns unbearable. You notice how Lord Odinson's cheek spasms and his complexion drains.

"Yes, sir, I... suppose... rather, I would..." you feel as if you're choking, "is it true? A marriage?"

"You wouldn't have to leave your homeland forever. I have some months ahead of me and my holdings here. We could visit--"

"Yes, yes, I will marry you," you murmur.

You hold your breath. Waiting. For one of them to break. For a peel of laughter between them. For it all to be another trick.

"Glory," Odinson exclaims as he proffers his hand, "shall we sit for tea, then, my valkyrie?"

You nod, unable to speak for fear of croaking. It is real. This man is real but you worry, his attention may yet prove false.

440 notes · View notes

funnyscienceman · 2 months ago

Text

look s2 was ass and i hate ori in a pod and dictator cait shouldve been explored more and so much and so much theres so much wrong with it, the writers were ass, i fucking hate riot, never trust that company for anything ever, AND ALSO jayvik makes me fucking cry man. i was so deadfaced for most of act 3 (aside from bursting into laughter when it got so absurd i felt like i was losing my sanity) but then they started throwing the fucking flashbacks to s1 at you and there was viktor being himself again, happy and funny and him and jayce nerding out over science magic whateverthefuck, and jayce said "all i want is my partner back," and externally i was like slack-jawed, blinking, shocked. like wait really? we're getting a fucking she-ra ending? this couldve been built up to so much better this is coming from fucking nowhere but really?? jayvik is back it's fucking back it's real??!?!??

and it was so overwhelming. internally i couldve been bursting into fucking tears. im still reeling over it more than a week later, like. is this what it felt like when tfgraves finally got to have their thing in pride 2022? people are saying jayce and viktor died in that explosion and maybe, maybe not, but that didn't feel sad to me. i guess it could be, it's impossible for me to take s2 seriously from a storytelling standpoint, but this isn't about that. like. two guys choosing each other over everything and everyone else. the sheer fucking devotion between them that toed the line of text and subtext since season fucking one. it's right there, on full display, center stage, and this is the actual culmination of the story i guess. wasnt set up at all this cast was way too bloated for its own good, but the fact that it exists. the fact that it's been brought to the forefront, they are FORCING YOU to talk about it. that one showrunner fucking lost his marbles on twitter because it was so hard to ignore, because the love there was just so unabashed and shameless and visible

I'm. I dunno. This is dredging up a lot of old feelings of loneliness being a trans gay man feeling like an outsider looking in to the queer community. It's a lot. And it's like conflicting so much with how ass arcane handled both its queers and poc, like as much as i love jayvik i also haaaate how mel and sky got fucking shafted, like did you have to do it like that??? and idk how much of the jayvik ending itself is queerbaiting or crumbs or whatever — if it is at all, idk, im not a philosopher or analyst in that regard — but. i just dont know if i've ever felt so seen. is that even the word for it??? maybe my feelings are just all over the place because it's so fresh? my feelings could change, i dunno. i still dont feel like rewatching s2 in full, all the way through, because it was such a slog and it disrespected 99% of the characters so hard, viktor included (singed got out mostly unscathed and i still consider that a christmas miracle) the most i can handle are individual clips and thinking about jayce and viktor doing like a reverse Weathering With You in that magic space stuff was… what the fuck man. i'm breaking. i'm falling apart.

(throwback to this one thing i doodled aaages and ages ago hdmdhdndnc)

idk. i dunno if any of this made any sense. im like rambling into the void rn. um. sorry this is a mess 👍

#jayvik #rambling #arcane critical #arcane season 2 #arcane season 2 spoilers #jayce talis #viktor arcane #i think i also just fucking Missed viktor's character from s1. he didn't feel like himself Ever in s2. not once #and then the s1 scenes got slammed into my face and i just start sobbing like there he is. theres the boy theres my guy i missed you sm #'what could have been' and 'all i want is my partner back' gaining so much more meta meaning than ever intended lmfao #this is a mess sorry

32 notes · View notes

dollwrites · 1 year ago

Text

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, noncon to dubcon and back again lol, choking, fingering ( r!receiving ), all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 ∣ day twenty-three [ shogo makishima + choking ]

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you.” his voice is low, and unnervingly soft, but damned if it isn’t effective. when he croons to you, his baritone like a siren song, you’re certain to do whatever he wishes. “You’re being very rude.” like now, when your hues flicker upwards. you wished you could find a spot on his forehead, or right between his eyes, to focus on so you wouldn’t be locked into those deadly, golden gems. it’s a hopeless feat, however, because you’re drawn to them, almost if his eyes are magnetized.

and he’s smug once you’re locked in, the heat of his breath on your bottom lip as his couplet hovers just an inch or so from yours, parted etched into a victorious grin. “There she is, the soft and obedient little lamb that I expected you to be.”

and his first two fingers push deeper into you, your thighs clamping around his wrist when they curl, as if beckoning the sensation out of you. you whimper, biting on your lip to repress the sound, loathing how completely unlike you it sounds. so weak. so needy. but his fingers fit so deliciously inside of you. your hips are shameless as they jut forwards, pushing your lower half off the wall to grind against his pumping digits.

“You love this, don’t you?” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours, “How snug my fingers are in that cunt? You feel so euphoric, I can tell by the twinkle in your eyes, and you can’t possibly imagine how this feeling could get better.”

you hated that he was right, but his wrist flicked, as graceful as a cat, and his fingers massage your interior nerves until you’re all but melting butter in his palm. you didn’t have to answer, he can read you like an open book.

“But, I can give that to you.” he murmurs, his soft, addictive couplet ghosting over yours. it takes everything in your power not to angle your face upwards and capture the tiers in a fierce kiss that you know wouldn’t satiate your hunger for him. “I can show you a nirvana your minimal daydreams have never even breached.”

because your want for Shogo was not an ember that could be snuffed out— your desire for him was a raging wildfire that left naught but chaos and torment in its wake within you.

of course, you would never tell him that, but he already knew.

“Do you want me to make you come undone?”

you shake your head, but keep your tiers tightly sealed— fearful that your mouth would betray you and favor the skillful fingers delving inside you, and you would beg him for a release. your hue was already tainted— you knew it was wrong to want a man so carnally, especially a killer like Shogo Makishima, but you couldn’t stop the depravity before it sank deep within you. it also didn’t help that he enjoyed tempting you so.

his eyes are nearly blinding, coruscating as he searches yours, and you know he can see right through the lie, but he’s still smiling. his free hand flees to grip your face, the pad of his thumb dragging along your lower lip. “I was asking as a courtesy, not because I need your permission. You know that, don’t you?” when he squeezes his fingers into your face, hollowing your cheeks, the act forces your lips to purse outwards, and they’re met with his pair crashing into them, devouring them. Shogo’s kiss is so overwhelming that you’re almost swept away, lost at sea within the embrace, and you nearly don’t feel a third finger join the other two, until he twists them, stretching you, and you whine against his lips.

he only chuckles, his hand holding your face steady, “Mm, I know. I know it must be a lot for you to take, but it feels good, doesn’t it? Stretching around my fingers like you’re made of elastic?”

“No—“ but it’s a sultry moan and your eyes flutter. your hips stutter as your body defies your mouth and rubs into his palm, wanting— no, needing more.

he chortles, shaking his head. “Your mouth says one thing, but your body tells me another. You’re giving yourself away, darling.” whilst he speaks, he smears the remnants of his sloppy, forceful kiss over your quivering lips and you can feel his fingers tight on your jaw.

then, only for what had to be a fraction of a second, a thought overtakes your mind. it’s quick, the visage of his hand dropping to grasp your throat instead of your face, and how much you’d enjoy that, and then you force it away from the forefront. but it’s much too late. an expression all too telling paints itself against his flawless countenance— the visage of a god possessed by power and victorious in his conquest of your fragile mentality.

“You are quite the demented, little thing, aren’t you? How badly you yearn to feel my hand on your throat— you know I would crush it, no problem whatsoever, don’t you? And that only has you wetter.”

humiliated with your face on fire, you attempt to turn away, but his fingers dig too fiercely into the vulnerable flesh of your cheeks, and you whine. you want to say no, to shake your head until your neck is sore, but you knew that your body was the traitor. no matter how much you lied to him, told him you weren’t enjoying it, he could feel your desire from the inside.

“I could make you tell me the truth if I wanted, I could finger fuck the pleases and thank yous right out of you.” he chuckles, before the hand upon your face careens downwards to clench a fist around your throat— your breath catches just beneath his palm, and your pulse pounds like a drum under the pad of his thumb, “and it’s not hard to see through your pathetic excuse for a facade, but it is exhilarating to watch you try and fool yourself into thinking this isn’t what you want.” his lips ghost over yours when he whispers, soft and daunting, and you’re hyper aware of the subtle flick of a devious tongue at the seam of your tiers; they part obediently and you exhale a shaky breath on to his face, much to your own dismay. “So, you keep telling me that you don’t love this—“ the pressure on your neck increases, constricting the air flow, and the rhythm between your thighs follows the trend; deep, slow thrusts picking up speed, yet sparing no intensity, until your eyes are rolling back, “and I’ll keep fucking your soft, warm cunt until you’ve nothing left in your fragile, little body to lie. Not an inkling of power, only submission for me.”

#shogo makishima #shogo x reader #shogo x you #shogo smut #shogo makishima x reader #shogo makishima x you #shogo makishima smut #psycho pass #psycho pass x reader #psycho pass x you #psycho pass smut

264 notes · View notes

clubdionysus · 8 months ago

Text

[BAD DECISION #41] Locked Doors

warnings: jungkook is literally so cayewwwt, shower sex, creampie <3, talks of a 'label', avoidance of said 'label', THE JILYMPICS!!! fun time with friends!!! wahooo!! i forgot how much I luv these chapters, shameless flirting!! lots of inspo from run bts :) so nice! so fun! until the red witch returns.... mwhahahahaha

wc: 11.5K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"Go on. Admit it. You hate the turtles."

"Gguk," you say flatly, giving him a look that just screams 'really?'

"We're right by the sea," he reminds you, as if you ever forgot. Nods towards the door of the house you're currently inside - the same one you're sleeping in - and reciprocates your look. "Go on out there and tell the sea creatures you're a heartless wench who doesn't care for them."

Rolling your eyes, the smirk on your lips is well hidden. The salt air has dried your skin out, and the lines by your eyes as you smile feel a little tighter than usual - but Jeongguk is just the same, dark hair crisping as it dries off.

You'd all been playing a game of chicken down by the shore, seeing who could run away from the largest waves, when Nabi and Jimin had declared that everybody needed to go inside.

"We're setting up for this afternoon's activity," Jimin had explained. "No sneak peeks."

And thus you'd all been banished to your bedrooms.

At the time, still a little too close to the sea, Jeongguk had been protesting the demand when the largest wave of the entire game came crashing in. Had knocked out his knees from behind - and thus, he's now dripping wet in the communal area of the house you're staying in.

The dark material of his shirt drapes over his strong torso like he's made of marble; a statue comparable to those of Ancient Greece. He really is just something else. You've never known a man like him.

And yet it's those big brown puppy dog eyes that get your tummy doing silly little somersaults.

When you were a kid, and you didn't understand how the body worked, and still thought your lungs were balloons inside ribs, you used to think that little miniature men were responsible for all bodily functions ever.

If anyone were to ask, you'd probably describe it as a game of lemmings going on inside you. The men were teeny tiny. Always wore hard hats. Had little radios that connected to a man in the brain who sat at a desk and watched everything happen.

Retrospectively, even with limited knowledge of science, you're not sure how child-you ever thought that was possible. How could tiny men fill up your tear ducts whenever you cried? Surely you'd feel them? And where would they get the tiny plastic jugs from? Logic evaded you, clearly.

Still, you can picture your band of tiny men, in rust-coloured boiler suits and yellow hard hats using your stomach as a circus tent, now. They'd trapeze from side to side. Maybe there'd even be a tiny elephant in there, doing tricks with a ball.

You push the silly thoughts of silly tiny men out of your head - only to be confronted with an equally silly man in front of you. Sexy, yes, but silly.

"You can go tell them for me," you insist, just playfully as he had suggested the thing you're arguing against. "You're already wet. Makes sense."

"No, what makes sense is us getting a shower together-"

"Oh my God," you laugh. He's determined. You'll give him that much. "Give it a rest you needy little prick."

"So you DO hate the turtles," he shakes his head. Scoffs. Looks terribly disappointed in you. All you wanna do is kiss his stupid, pretty - no, you remind yourself. Pull it together. "And here I was thinking you were a good person, B. More fool me."

It's just that his feigned disappointment is kinda cute; all pouty and pensive. There's something about a whiney Jeongguk that really does make you a little weak at the knees - but you're creating a little distance.

Or at least, you're trying to.

Quite literally - you're standing by the foot of the stairs, while he's over by the sofa. Are far too aware that if you were any closer, you'd just say fuck it. Would get him undressed right there and then, and probably get far dirtier than you are now. Would earn that shower he's so desperate to have with you.

Every single time he's touched you throughout the day, no matter how minimal, you've found yourself wanting to hold his hand. Every smile shared, you've wished was a kiss, and every laugh exchanged has made your heart swell .

You're in trouble, and you damn well know it.

"Look," you sigh, trying to be the sensible one because apparently he's incapable. "If you join me, that easily turns it into, what? Thirty? Forty minutes? But if I'm alone, I'm done in ten."

"I can be quick," he promises without hesitation, and then pretends to be a little offended. "Hold on a second - I'm not doing this for my gain. I'm just thinking about the turtles. Don't even wanna do anything with you like that. Gross. Get your mind outta the gutter, B."

"Oh, so you just wanna be naked together, huh?" You smile, knowing he's full of absolute horse shit.

"Yeah?" He says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Just normal bestie things."

You know he's joking, but there's a wilting sadness that comes with the prospect of Jeongguk still believing this; still thinking of you as he always has done.

Memories of how Jeongguk used to speak of Hayun ring in your ears like the clattering of metal alarm clocks that never seem to cease.

She stayed the same. I'm the one whose feelings changed. My hurt is on me.

History is repeating itself, just with Jeongguk playing a different role. He's stayed the same, this time. It's your feelings that have, stupidly, changed.

He's made for it, you think. Made to be adored. Made to make the girlies swoon. Made for you to feel far too fondly about.

You've an awareness of how this all will play out, thanks to Jeongguk's own history. Know that you've got limited time to indulge in him.

So, for better or for worse, indulge in him, you shall.

"You'll catch a cold if you stay in those clothes," you eventually concede, finally relenting.

The space between you is closed, you desire to keep a safe distance evaporating in the murky April air.

Toying with the hem of his shirt, you look up at him through your lashes. Hope you look as sultry as you feel.

It's so stupid. You shouldn't care so much. It's just Jeongguk.

But that's exactly the problem.

It's Jeongguk .

Oh, God, it's Jeongguk and that pretty smile, and those sweet little teeth. It's Jeongguk and the angled tip of his nose and the narrowing of his eyes as he looks down at you; no longer a doe but a dragon. It's Jeongguk, and the scent of his aftershave and warmth of his skin that always makes you feel so at home.

It's Jeongguk. Has been since that very first Dionysus night when he asked you what you liked, and all you could think about was him. Superficial, dumb shit. His tattoos, his lip ring - but also his kindness. His astute determination to make sure people who needed water got water, and how willing he was to find you a drink you liked.

You've been withholding evidence, it would seem. The crime? How Jeon Jeongguk stole your heart in an elaborate heist, so intricate you didn't even realise it was happening.

The alarm bells are ringing, now though. You're without a heart, and yet you've never felt more alive.

His dark eyes are downcast towards you; sin written all those pretty features you like so much.

"So take them off," he husks, leaning down to nudge his nose against yours. The proximity of your lips makes it hard to resist him. "Get me naked, B."

And so you simply don't resist.

You press your lips up against his, and sink into his touch; how he pulls your waist closer into his chest, how broad his shoulders are beneath your elbows as your arms link behind his head, how softly he envelops your lips with his own.

It's soft. Gentle. A kiss to declare how much you've missed him, even if it's less than twelve hours since the last time you were caught up in such an embrace.

Sometimes in life, kisses linger far longer in your soul than they do on your body.

They become your first thought when you think of fairy tales, and the people you share them with are forever immortalised as something far greater than who they actually are.

One day, when leaves have fallen and rebloomed a dozen times over, you won't be able to feel these kisses anymore - but you'll feel something . An ever-present ghost that you can never rid yourself of. Doesn't matter how many kisses come afterwards; none will ever compare.

You don't realise it yet, but this is your forever kiss.

It's the one that will stain you red in the colour of Jeon Jeongguk's affection for you. Even if one day he forgets how delicately he touched you, how feathery light his lips were and how serene your smile was, you won't. It'll replay in your mind, and whenever you realise you're thinking about it again, you'll press your lips together, as if that's any substitute.

Other lovers will no doubt kiss you later in life. Come the time, it'll be nice. Welcome, even. But it'll never be the same.

This realisation will come far too late, and it will be devastating.

Will stop you from believing in the concept of love all over again. Will make you resent your younger self for embarking on these bad decisions with a boy you were never supposed to fall for.

Jeon Jeongguk is forever, but he's also not for you.

But you're young, and you're dumb, and bad decisions just taste so good when they're on the tip of his tongue.

"About that shower?" he mumbles into your lips.

"Shut up," you mumble right back.

Yet not even two minutes later, you're in the same position, water running, clothes stripped, bathroom door locked.

"I stand corrected," he husks, lips trailing down your neck.

"Hmm?"

"About the turtles," he smirks. Pulls away to look at you, and brushes strands of sopping wet hair off your face. Holds your jaw and he presses a dainty kiss against your lips. "You do love the turtles."

Turtles? Meh. You're indifferent.

Jeongguk? Yeah... That's the kicker.

"Shut up," you whine into his lips as they press down once more. His hands roam all over your body, reacquainting themselves with the way you feel; wet, warm, and his to hold.

There's an unbridled familiarity to the way Jeongguk touches you, certain permissions never asked because they're always a given yes. He turns you around, but leans over your shoulder to make sure he can still kiss you.

Cock hard, he taps the outer side of your thigh. Instinctively, you raise up to your tiptoes. Seem to just understand what he wants; what he needs. Squeezing at your ass, Jungook lets himself rub up against you. Feels so nice, the way you use one another for nothing more than a little selfish, mindless indulgence. There's no expectation of reciprocation, and yet it's always a given.

"Keep your legs together," he husks against your shoulder, a hand on your waist and he grips the base of his cock. Presses the tip just beneath the curve of your ass where your legs meet; a teeny tiny triangle of space just beneath your pussy his to fill. Lets out a laboured breath as he pushes into the tight space. His lips kiss the curve of your neck, and he's quiet, when he begs, "Can I fuck you like this? Please?"

You don't verbalise a response. Just nod. Push your ass back a little, forearms and palms flat against the tiles, creating a barrier for your head to lean upon.

It's not really fucking. At least, you're not getting fucked - but the friction of his cock as it slides in the snug space your body accommodates for him is so nice. So simple and yet so good.

Waist being held by one of his large hands, the other comes to rest at the base of your neck. Water still pitter-patters around you, wetting your skin, making your hair stick to your body. The way your pussy leaks for him as the tip of his cock brushes up against your clit provides him with a far better lube than the water he'd been relying on.

"Fuck, B," he grunts as his hips thrust into a rhythm akin to the beat of your heart. "This body..." he squeezes your waist. " Your body. Fuck. Feels so fucking good."

For reasons you can't quite decipher, you downplay his compliments. Tease a little, and say, "I'm sure you say that to all the girls."

Jeongguk knows you're joking. Is familiar with the turn of phrase. Has heard you use it before.

But he's not an idiot.

Well, no, often he is an idiot - but when it comes to his sensitivity of you, and specifically your relationship with shower sex, he knows better than to joke along with you. There are scars left by Seokjin and even though they're pale in comparison to how raw they were when you first showered with Jeongguk, he knows how hard you've worked to heal.

And so he slows. Keeps himself snug in the warmth of you, but stays still. Presses a delicate kiss to your neck. Shakes his head. Finds your lips. Is delicate once more as he kisses you tenderly.

"No one makes me feel like you do," he promises against your lips.

Hands slinking around you, he pulls you in for a hug. Arms tight, he needs you to know that his words are true.

Jeongguk is smooth as he manoeuvres you around to face him once more. Back pressed to the tiles, steam billowing around the room, his hands cup your jaw, positioning you perfectly for your lips to meet his - and when they do, it's clear that the way you orbit one another is reaching the point of no return.

It's only a matter of time until you crash. Collide. Combust.

Still, he's in total control. Your body kind of just becomes his; eyes wide whenever he pulls away, begging for him to return.

And he will - but first, he needs to be honest. Needs you to hear his truth, 'cause he's scared of the consequences that could occur due to an absence of it.

"I love it here," he starts, then realises he's too vague. Doesn't care that his cock is embarrassingly hard, or that he can't quite get a read behind your sparkly eyes. He looks down briefly, only for a moment or so. Shakes his head. Raises his head to meet your gaze. "Not here," he corrects. Continues, "I mean - here, yeah, right now - but not here specifically. I just... When I'm with you like this, the rest of it all just sorta disappears. Shit with the bank, with life..."

His lips find yours, pressing down tightly to match the closing of his eyes. In his head, the voices berate him. Tell him to stop being a fucking baby. To man up. To say what he really thinks.

But Jeon Jeongguk is, for the first time in a very long time, scared in your presence.

Scared he could fuck it. Scared he could say the wrong thing. Scared he could say the right thing, and fuck it up regardless.

"You help me forget," he whispers in between his needy, nonsensical physical affirmations of how much he enjoys being with you.

Life is good, though, you think. He shouldn't need to forget it.

And so you ask.

"What's there to forget, huh?" You say softly, lips brushing against his, noses nudging in that delicate way they so often do.

It's a good question.

Suddenly, Jeongguk doesn't really want to be honest any more. Doesn't want to admit to the part where he forgets you're not together. Where he forgets this started as a means to an end, and that it seems as if the end is drawing near. Where he forgets that you're not his, and he's not yours.

When it's just the two of you, it's so easy to pretend; to cosplay as lovers. Do all the things that lovers do, so that one day, you'll be able to do it easily with someone else.

But Jeongguk has tried.

He felt the rush of butterflies with Jiyeong; that superficial sorta infatuation that flutters around your stomach, but fails to reach your bloodstream. It never impacted his heart. Never made his muscles ache.

Not like you do.

And he knows why - again, he's not a total idiot.

It's 'cause you're friends.

There are layers here, à la Shrek and onions. You're already in his bloodstream. He already cares for you in a way that goes beyond that of a crush.

It just so happens that he wants to bone you, like, twenty-four-seven. Has never been so horny. Thinks he might die, like, once a day. Maybe more. He's not too sure.

The combination of his care and complete lack of self-control?

He knows that it's rare.

Knows that it isn't typical.

Even with Hayun, it wasn't like this.

There was a time when Jeongguk could say he loved her. Completely, and honestly, adored her for a fraction of his lifetime. And yet...

It wasn't like this.

Nudging his nose against yours, he goes against his better judgement.

The thing that you make him forget?

"That it's not as good as this in real life," he whispers. "You make me forget it's never this good. I don't... This shit ain't normal, B."

You're a fallacy; an illusion of what life could be like. A fantasy. That beautiful 'what if' Jeongguk used to think of you as in the shitty lighting of Dionysus, your disco ball eyes twinkling as you'd tease him by the bar.

But your glitter is on your cheeks now, fixed at zero even as rivulets of water trickle down your skin like tears. There's still a sparkle in your eye, but it's just because you're reflecting your star boy back at himself.

"What do you mean?" you ask, certain that you don't actually want the answer.

Jeongguk leans across to the taps. Shuts off the shower.

"Turtles," he says of his actions. Bites on his lip, contemplation lacing his brows together. His ring does the thing. You wish he was still kissing you. "I mean... I just... Well, this is different, isn't it? The thing we've got going on. The friendship. The fucking. It's better."

You shake your head. Know that you've been confused over things recently. Perhaps he is, too.

"It's the lack of romance. All the fun without the expectations. It is different... but it's not better."

"You've had better?" He asks, genuinely curious.

"Well, no," you admit. "But nothing feels the same as being loved."

"Oh, fuck that," he laughs. Know that somewhere in that pretty head of yours, memories of Seokjin are floating around. Is shameless, and most definitely too horny for his own good when he says, "I can fuck you like I love you."

"No, you can't," you laugh, as if the heart that's no longer in your chest isn't being put through a paper shredder. "You can't fake it. You just know when the other person loves you."

Like I love you. So desperately sad. Like he loves you. Like.

"Do you?" He implores.

The question is posed as a generalisation. You take it as such, and ignore the way your brain wonders if it was meant to be slightly more pointed.

Do you know when someone loves you ?

"What I know, Jeongguk, is that you don't need love to have fun."

"And you'd rather that? Fun over love?"

"I'd rather you shut up and fuck me," you tease, because you'll lose your mind if he doesn't stop sending you such conflicting messages. "So yeah, I'll take fun over love."

No, Jeongguk thinks. No, you won't. Not if you're fucking me.

Glancing over to the clock on the back wall, you make a note of the time. "Got twenty minutes, Gguk. We need to get ready - but fun can be fast. Love can't be."

Oh, on the contrary.

Love can be both of those things.

Jeongguk proves it not even four minutes later; your legs wrapped around him, back pressed to tiles, his thumb rubbing gentle circles over your clit as your pussy throbs around his cock.

"God, you're so beautiful," he husks into your mouth, kisses messy, tongue teasing. "So god damn gorgeous when you cum on my cock, aren't you, B?"

And you know it shouldn't, but it makes you laugh. Gets you all giggly. Mutterings of "shut up" are spliced with teeny tiny kisses and reciprocated giggles from Jeongguk. Little sing-songs of "pretty, pretty baby," and "you're so happy when I fuck you - it's so cute, " and the occasional laboured grunt, moan, curse - but always an eternal, endless, ethereal smile on Jeongguk's dreamy lips.

There's no clear, linear pathway that leads you to your bedroom. You know you don't walk, so Jeongguk must have carried you, but it's all such a mess. Him, you. Bodies, connected. Your existences bleed into one another. Too busy sustaining each other to realise that you're still wounded.

The way his cock slides into you when you're finally on your bed, retracting with every strenuous grind of his hips against yours, is nothing short of euphoric. Trapped beneath the weight of his body, you're a prisoner of your own feelings, but he's the one keeping guard. How could you not adore him? How could you want anything other than this? How could this ever be just friends?

Legs spread nice and wide for him, there's an ache in your bones that doesn't even come close to the ache in your chest.

Mindless as he hooks one of your legs over his elbow, Jeongguk's lips are barely kissing yours. Just sharing your oxygen; breathing in your moans.

"I'm there," he husks, and is met with a nod.

"Inside," is all you can manage to say. Wrap the leg that he's not supporting around his back. Hold him close. Get him smirking.

"B-" he whines, knowing he shouldn't - not like he makes any effort to pull away. He's as desperate for this as you are.

"Please."

Jeongguk fucks you until he physically can't. Until you physically can't take it anymore; until you both, emotionally, can't bear it any longer. Finishes inside you, 'cause it's what you want, and he wants to be the one who fulfils your desires.

Body heavy on top of yours, Jeongguk stays buried inside you, the clammy skin you're both sporting makes the shower you shared redundant. He doesn't want to move. Doesn't want to lose this. Lose you.

His lips press a firm kiss beneath the curve of your jaw, his fingers coming to lace with yours. Closer, and closer still.

If he doesn't separate himself from you, he's gonna say something he'll regret. Is already internally fighting against the words forming in his throat that he's refusing to speak. Stupid shit. Declarations. Affirmations. Confessions.

One of your hands strokes down his back, the other still holding on to his hand. It's a simple intimacy. One that you don't fear; but instead, you fear losing.

Jeongguk pulls back a little, to get a read on your face. Steals a kiss, 'cause he just can't help himself, then steals half a dozen more. Says, "You gotta stop seducing me, Byeol."

"Oh, fuck off," you laugh. "This time was all on you."

He shakes his head. Lets his nose nudge up against yours. Is so effortlessly serene. "All on you, Byeol."

Rolling your eyes, you nudge him to encourage his body off of yours. He begrudgingly obliges. Flops onto the empty space beside you.

"Leaving already?" he whines, eyes on your body as you get to your feet. Is shameless, cupping his still-firm cock as if the sight of you alone is enough to get him hard again.

"Need to pee," you say without much thought, reaching over to the chair for a shirt to cover your modesty.

It's hard to pinpoint the specific moment you became this comfortable with Jeongguk. Typically you're discreet about matters such as this - blame Seokjin - but there's no need for subtleties when it comes to Jeongguk.

"Can I come?"

"No?"

"Please."

"Go get dressed," you offer a different suggestion, 'cause why the fuck he'd wanna come with you, you've no idea.

It's not like he wants to actively watch you pee - though he wouldn't be opposed - it's just that he wants you close. The more he thinks about it though, the more he kinda does wanna watch. It's taboo. A little erotic. There's very little that won't get him hard, and when you're added into the mix? Guaranteed boner.

Lost in his thoughts, he lets you go. Trundles downstairs, and cleans himself off in the small sink in the downstairs loo. Runs a little water through his hair to try and rid himself of the cowlick that dried into his hair - but it'll be fruitless without a re-wash.

Giving up, he resigns himself to laughable hair for the rest of the day. Doesn't really mind, 'cause he likes it when he makes his friends laugh.

Hands resting on the basin, Jeongguks rolls his shoulders back. Looks down into the empty porcelain basin and shakes his head. "Pull yourself together, man."

He flicks on the tap again and gathers a little water in his hands to pat on his cheeks. They're flushed with colour, his lips still rosy from the friction of a million kisses against yours. Tongue toying with his lip ring, Jungook just observes himself.

Unrecognisable, is the man in front of him. The perception he has of himself when you're together doesn't align with who he actually is.

There's an innocence to the way Jeongguk sees himself whenever he's with you. He forgets the tattoos. Forgets the muscles. Forgets the lip ring, and the hair. The jawline. Forgets it all.

When he's with you, Jeongguk is the baseline version of himself; a star in its purest form.

"Why are you still naked?" You question with a raised brow, fully dressed, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. He didn't realise how long he'd been contemplating the conundrum of you. "And why is the door wide open?"

You're in yoga pants and - for once - one of your own shirts. It's form-fitting but still a little baggy, a simple wide-V neckline plunging a little too deep for his sanity. Glitter sparkles in the inner corner of your eyes, but it's subtle. Still lovely, he thinks.

"Hm?" He chirps, bathroom door wide open. Expansive eyes large as the glance over to you, it's clear you've caught him mid-thought-tangent.

You glance over your shoulder to the entryway, then back to him. "You're lucky no one came in, you little exhibitionist. Get dressed. It's nearly time."

Jeongguk could get dressed. He will get dressed.

But first he walks to meet you.

Cups your jaw.

Kisses you, 'cause it half feels like he might die if he doesn't.

Hands on his bare waist, you reciprocate his advances despite the surprise. Lean into his touch, as if it's the most natural thing in the world. Figure he's just still riding the post-fuck high. Adore the way it feels to be wanted by him.

"You're too hot," he whines when he finishes kissing you - but keeps his forehead resting against yours. Wants to stay close. "Everyone's gonna want you."

"So?" you laugh, thinking that he's absolutely ridiculous. "They can have me."

"No," he strops in full disagreement. "They can't"

"No?"

"No, B."

"That's very selfish of you," you smile against his lips.

And all he does is nod. It is selfish -but he's always been honest with you about the fact he's terrible at sharing. Simply doesn't want to do it.

There was a brief reality when sharing was his only option. Seojoon, and his stupid long legs and his dumb, perfectly styled hair. A formidable opponent, but one that Jeongguk is glad to no longer have,

It's uncomfortable to think about; a reality in which he'd lose you to another person.

It haunts him; how your silky scrunchies would look around the taps of someone else's sink. Your clothes strewn across the back of a chair he doesn't know. Watermarks left on someone else's tiles thanks to showers had by you. It's the mundane shit that Jeongguk finds he doesn't want to share the most.

And yet when he looks at you like this, he can't bring himself to say it.

Finds it embarrassing, the way his chest aches when he's thinking about your shoes in a pile by doors he's never seen before. The laundry detergent you like on someone else's shelf. Your used dishes in the sink, yet to be done because you're too busy lazing around with a nameless lover. Flecks of glitter on pillowcases that aren't yet dented with the shape of your head.

Not like Jeongguks are.

There are traces of you all around his apartment. You've not visited in a little while, but if you were to go there. this instant, you'd feel right at home.

A spare jacket of yours is hung up by their front door.

It's your half-drunk peach Chilsung in the fridge next to an iced coffee Jimin forgot to drink. The blanket on their sofa is one you brought round for a movie night and left there because Jeongguk kept going on about how soft it was. It's your tits up on the wall, but no one else really knows that except for you and Jeongguk.

It's in his bedroom though, where a sanctuary has truly been formed. A constellation of you is mapped out; glitter, underwear, sticky notes, birds. Polaroid pictures and photobooth strips. Tickets and receipts. Mementoes capturing a fraction of time that Jeongguk hopes to never lose.

"Okay," you encourage him a little further. "Well if I don't want to share you, and you don't want to share me... what do you suggest we do about it?"

This isn't a romantic declaration. It's not some admission of feelings, or anything like that. Is simply just the establishment of a boundary. A hard one, at that.

"Logic would suggest that we don't share," Jeongguk adds, all very unhelpfully.

He's being a wimp.

You want him to be the one to say it. Want him to take the leap of faith.

But the fear prevails. Gets in his head. Tells him not to be stupid.

And so it's up to you to tell him, "I think it makes sense... Yanno? Like, I don't want anything to change. I'm not like, saying we're anything more than friends, but... the hooking up. It should be exclusive, shouldn't it?"

The conversation has been had before - no hooking up with other people while you're actively hooking up - but this is different. Looking for other hook-ups has never been off the cards. Not really. You've had free will. You still do.

You'll just continue to keep on choosing Jeongguk, as long as he keeps choosing you.

He nods. Agrees.

"I think you're right."

"Okay... so...?" You say a little awkwardly. There's no declaration of anything, no confessions, no secrets shared. If anything, you're probably a little more confused than you were before.

"So..." he reciprocates your awkwardness. "Is there, like, a label, now? What is this, B?"

"You tell me," you shrug, shy in the way you want him to say good riddance to his fears. There's no rejection here. He's safe.

Jeongguk closes his eyes. Smiles.

"Well, I'm naked." He looks at you once more. "And I really need to get dressed, so maybe I should do that first."

"Your avoidance is obvious."

"I'm not avoiding anything," he says, hands on your waist as he gets you walking backwards, leading you into his room so he can get changed. You plonk yourself on his bed, flopping back into the duvet. The ceiling of his room is white, and oh-so-awfully plain. Above it is your room; somewhere you'd quite like to be with him once more, but he's too busy rummaging in his bag for clothes to wear.

So taken by your own thoughts, you barely register Jeongguk as taps your knees, body responding to him so naturally that your legs sort of just spread. Let him climb onto the bed with you, now half-dressed, the shirt he's going to wear still in his hand. Pinned down by his body weight, you smile as you welcome his return.

"Hi," you whisper, his lips sinking into yours instead of saying hello back.

Lips soft, he's got no intention of taking this any further than just the simplicity of what it is - even if you do deliberately catch his bottom lip between your teeth and gently tug on it as he pulls away.

Smiling as he sits, ass on his heels, your legs over his thighs, which are far too exposed in the pair of shorts he's wearing, Jeongguk just shrugs. Reaches up to squeeze your tits, just cause he can. Smirks. Says, "I think we're fuck buddies, but like... exclusive fuck buddies."

You're both dancing around what you really are, but it's something at least. Something better than the nothing you've been trying to cosplay as.

"It's too vulgar," you tell him.

"Well, it's what it is," he argues back, still toying with your tits, seemingly distracted, as he says, "Get them out."

"No," you laugh, which makes him pout. You know better. Know that you'll just end up needing another shower again if you get your tits out. "If we're gonna label this shit, we're gonna label it nicely."

"Why?" he teases, sinking down to press against your throat, his grip on your body strong as his hips pulse ever so gently. He knows what he's doing. Idiot. "We're not a spice rack. Who cares about the label?"

"Me," you tell him, without much thought. Had never realised you did care so much. The situation is confusing, though, and at least if you have a little label on it, you can store it away inside your brain and neglect any attention that should go its way, instead of letting it ravage your brain. "I care. I wanna know where I stand with you."

"Well, currently, you're laying down, B," he deadpans.

"Gguk."

"Byeol."

"Stop," you giggle, as his lips continue to press pretty kisses up your throat, tongue licking, breath hot. "Give me an answer."

He whines. "You're so difficult."

You laugh. "So are you!"

Jeongguk pulls back. Hands either side of your head to support himself, the chain around his neck tickles at your chin, much like the look in his eyes tickles at your heart.

"You're my best friend," he tells you. Steals a kiss. "And I've no interest in finding another bestie."

"And?" You press.

"And I've no interest in fucking anyone else," he stresses. "B, we're going round in circles-"

The light-hearted debate is cut short by the loud announcement of Jimin entering the house.

"Where are you fuckers? Gguk, wherever you are, put your cock away," he yells, yet still waltzes right on into Jeongguk's room without a care in the world.

Thankfully, the commotion had caused you both to tear yourself away from one another. Jeongguk is pulling his shirt over his head, while you sit all rather pleasantly by the pillows of the bed.

"Oh thank God," Jimin sighs, hand on heart as he enters the room. Flops down onto the bed, much in the same fashion you had not even 5 minutes earlier. "Thought I was gonna walk in on something."

Jeongguk throws a pair of socks in his face. "Then don't walk in without knocking?"

"Or," Jimin argues. "Alternatively, don't fuck each other."

You go to protest. Classic star-lover-style denial.

It's a funny thing, what a non-label label can do to a boy, though. He might not be on a spice rack, no - but nor are you. And he'd like Jimin not to think of you as if you are.

"Stop thinking about us fucking. If a door is closed, it's none of your business what's going on behind it."

Jimin sucks in a little breath through his pouty lips. "You're getting close. Still not a confession, but I'll take it."

Of course, Jimin knows the truth. He's spoken directly with Jeongguk about it on a number of occasions. The fact you two hook-up is an open secret between him and his housemate. It just frustrates Jimin, 'cause he thinks you're both self-sabotaging by not committing to it. Will scream for days if he has to deal with another Hayun-style trauma for Jeongguk.

"Anyways, chop-chop. We've finished setting up," Jimin beams. Waltzes out of the room, expecting you to follow - which you do. "It's time for the Jilympics!"

When you arrive at the front lawn, the first thing Nabi asks is, "Did he call it the Jilympics again? Dude! This joint effort!"

"It's not my fault my name works better than yours."

Shaking her head, she whispers beneath her breath to you, "Yeah and it won't be my fault when I slip and accidentally push him into the sea later."

"I know it won't be your fault, but can you give me a little prior warning?" You joke back. "So I can make sure I'm watching."

"Deal."

There's been a certain ambiguity to the plans of Nabi and Jimin, who now stand before you all with subtle smiles that they're trying not to let shine.

Gathered on the lawn, they've admittedly been deliberately ambiguous about their activity - but Jimin just can't help himself, and it doesn't take a genius to work out 'Jilympics' combined with their request for you to wear something sporty means that some sort of adventure awaits you.

Standing behind you, Jeongguk uses the obscured view of his body to his advantage. Spends the entire time you're waiting for Jimin and Nabi to start their introduction lightly tapping your ass. Right hand, left hand. One, two. One, two. Pat, pat. Sure, his body is swaying a little bit, but no one is really paying it any notice. Is typical of him. Nothing that'll make them glance twice in his direction.

But why should you care even if they do?

There's an air of excitement that surrounds you both. Keeps you trapped like a steel-bolted bubble. Uncharted territory is being walked across, and Jeongguk is holding your hand every step of the way - metaphorically, that is. Right now he's holding your ass. Just bestie things.

Seoyeon stands to the side of Nabi, while Yoongi mirrors her beside Jimin. They're exchanging confused glances not only with each other, but the entire party. Very little information has actually been given about the afternoon's activity, just that the Bride and Groom must pick teams.

A coin is flipped, and Seoyeon - who chose tails - is disappointed to see heads face up on the top of Jimin's hand.

Without hesitation, Yoongi instantly barks, "Jeongguk!"

"Hey!" Seoyeon whines, and you understand exactly why.

After all, you'd both been present during laser tag. Whichever team Jeongguk is on is guaranteed to win. It's just science.

"Fine," Seoyeon narrows her eyes at her beloved as Jeongguk comes to stand beside him. They greet one another with choruses of dumb, chad-like 'hey bro', 'lets go, bro,' and it only fuels Seoyeon's need to beat them.

And for reasons you can't quite understand, she picks you .

"Oh, I see how it is," Yoongi grins as you join your team captain, giggly and girly in your greeting just to take the piss out of the boys.

You're glad Yoongi can see how it is - 'cause you're really none the wiser. When it comes to sports, you leave something to be desired. It's no secret. You're well aware. So is Jeongguk.

"Namjoon," Yoongi calls next, only serving to strengthen his team. He's got the two strongest players, and Seoyeon really should have gotten Namjoon instead of you.

So it only comes as yet another surprise when she picks Hoseok .

You love him to death but - again - you've seen him play laser tag. No one in their right mind would pick him for a battle of survival. A mood maker? Respite from stress? Dance battle champ? Sure. You'd pick him for all of the above.

But as a contender in the Jilympics?! Surely not.

Even Hoseok is a little confused, glancing over to Taehyung and Danbi, then pointing to himself as if to say, "Me?"

In a shock twist, Yoongi then chooses Danbi - but you know he's smart. Know that he knows she does pole, and is far stronger than she appears.

It leaves Seoyeon with Taehyung to complete her ragtag team, and honestly, you're not holding out much hope for success.

Teams decided, the beans are spilt regarding the events of the afternoon. It's a competition of three games, where agility, determination, and smarts are needed in equal measure.

Still, you don't hold out much hope for your team.

The first game is a 'simple' assault course. A circle track going around the entire lawn, it's littered with furniture - makeshift hurdles, slalom poles, a sprinkler attachment on the end of the garden hose, and so much more. Too much. You wouldn't be surprised if the homeowners gave you an additional charge for property disruption, 'cause there's no way in hell they'll remember to return everything back to its rightful place.

Danbi and Taehyung go first. The most equally yet matched, that's for sure.

You think she'll have the edge - walks dogs for a living, so this will quite literally be like a walk in the park for her.

And it is - until Taehyung proves exactly why agility, determination and smarts are needed in equal measure.

He gets halfway through, just inches behind her, then says '"hey, wait, wait - Babe. Hold on." Acts all concerned. Gets Danbi worried. Pulls her to a stop, checking for the issue - only to be met with a 'Haha! Sucker!"

Taehyung bolts for it. Kocks over a stool to block her track. Passes the finish line, while Danbi is still protesting his underhand tactics.

The independent adjudicators (Nabi and Jimin, just with hi-vis vests on) declare it to be fair game.

Danbi? Well, she declares war .

When it comes to your turn, you're inevitably against Jeongguk, but don't even bother with any underhand tactics. He's already passing the second obstacle before you've even reached the first.

You're gonna lose anyways, so you may as well have fun with it, you think - and then dart across the middle of the circuit, bypassing all of the obstacles you're supposed to come up against. You're restricted a little by your lack of sports bra, and the fact you're having to hold your tits in place, barely managing to reach the other side of the circle before Jeongguk comes hurtling around the track.

"You fucker!" He shouts with a smile as he pelts towards the finish line - only for you to reach it before he does. With momentum still in his legs, Jeongguk hooks his arm around your waist and drags you with him as he slows to a hot, sticky, sweaty stop. Can't stop laughing. "You're such a cheater."

"Smart," you correct him with a giggle as he finally eases up. "I'm such a smart girlie."

He walks you both a little further back. Keeps you close. Looks down at you with such affection you know he's secretly a little enamoured by your cunning attempt to win. He'd kiss you, if it weren't for your friends.

Back at base, your teams are respectively arguing against one another as to whether or not what you did was 'legal'.

Jimin votes no, Nabi yes.

"First warning," Jimin eventually announces. "Any more funny business from team Bride and we'll have no choice but to give penalties."

The thing is, you all know you're gonna lose anyway - so fuck it. What's the worst that could happen? You'll lose a little harder? Boohoo.

It's actually far fairer between Namjoon and Hoseok. Of course, Namjoon wins, but Hoseok came really fuckin' close. Almost had it. Swears down if he were to do it again, he'd win.

But time is up, and the second game commences: Red light, green light,

The boys all insist on dying the most dramatic of deaths à la Squid Games whenever they're caught out, flailing to the floor, rolling and wailing.

In a last-ditch attempt to make you lose, Jeongguk deliberately gets himself knocked out in the process of tripping you up. It's the only death he doesn't play up, 'cause he's too laughing at you - and then subsequently running away from you when you decide that his in-game death is simply not enough.

Nabi and Jimin are withholding the scores - in all honesty, you think they're probably just gonna pull a winner out of their asses. For the moment, though, it's neck and neck.

"Welcome to the third and final round of the Olympics," Jimin declares, knowing that the task at hand has never and will never be played at any Olympic ceremony, like, ever. "The goal is simple. Dotted around the garden - from the main house right down to the beach are envelopes."

Nabi nods, holding up the small, white envelopes, before continuing. "In the envelopes are tokens. Each token is one point. There are 250 in total across 150 envelopes. Some envelopes have just one token, some have ten."

There's outcry from all of the players - shock and horror at the scope of the hunt.

"Collect the most tokens, and win," Nabi smiles with effervescent charm - only for Jimin to crush the simplicity of such a game to smithereens.

"However," he beams, oh so pleased to ruin it all. "There's a twist! Each team can exchange tokens for stickers throughout the game. Yoongi, you're red. Your team comes to me. Seoyeon, green. You go to Nabi. For every sticker you manage to stick on the rival team, you get plus ten points."

"And," Nabi smiles. "As a token of our goodwill, you'll each start with a sheet of stickers."

The 4x4 sheets are handed out, and you already know exactly who's gonna be covering you in stickers. You don't look over in his direction - but you can feel his gaze on you. It's nice. Welcome.

"They'll just take them off," Taehyung objects, convinced that the other team will need to cheat, as if it isn't full of the strongest players. If any team will be cheating, it's Seoyeon's.

"We're gonna ask that you play fairly," Nabi pleads, knowing there's no real way to stop it from happening. "You're in your twenties. You're not toddlers. Act like it."

"We're about to play a hybrid game of tag and treasure hunt," Jeongguk snorts. Finds the whole thing very amusing, and knows he's probably gonna enjoy the game more than anyone else. "Not toddlers, sureee ."

"You must have been a very advanced toddler, Jeongguk," Seoyeon teases, trash talk now a second language between the teams. You've been making little jabs at one another all afternoon, but it's been in good spirits. All part of the fun.

"I used to play tag against you in elementary school Seoyeon," Yoongi reminds her, coming to the defence of his teammate. "Try not to trip over your own feet."

"Oh that was, like, only three times," she scoffs with a smile, as if her nose doesn't have a slight bump in it still from one particularly bad fall.

Yoongi had gotten into a whole heap of trouble that day. He hadn't even done anything, he was just the first to check on her, so all the teachers thought he had done it - and because she was losing the game, she didn't correct them. Just gave a menacing smirk in Yoongi's direction when her parents came to pick her up. They didn't speak for three weeks afterwards - until Yoongi did accidentally knock someone over in the playground, and Seoyeon took the blame for him instead.

Push and pull; give and take. They've always been like this, even before they realised one day they'd be making vows; for better or for worse.

Gearing up to play, Jimin counts down from ten for extra drama. Adds a certain flair to it. Gets you rolling your eyes, and Jeongguk smirking when he catches you doing so.

As soon as he reaches zero, you're all darting in different directions. You've all seen various envelopes dotted around the place during the earlier activities, so have specific ones in mind.

There's a couple in the hedgerow by the side of the house, and you know that there's a small paved pathway running alongside the house, so after you nab the hedgerow envelopes, you beeline for the side of the house.

Already, you can see an envelope propped on the wheelbarrow. It's yours for the taking.

Or at least it was .

"Oh my GOD," you whine, as Jeongguk swoops in to steal the envelope you had been gunning for. "That was literally mine!"

"You snooze, you lose, B," he smirks - then decides he can use this to his advantage.

The pair of you are down by the side of the house.

No one else will be coming in this direction any time soon. Most of them are down by the water. Jeongguk had only come this way because, well, you were. He's like a lovesick puppy, and the pair of you are fools for not realising it - especially considering that fact it's the main topic of conversation down by the beach.

"It's good, actually that DB is over by the house," Taehyung assures Hoseok, convinced it will be their trump card for winning the game. "Will keep Jeongguk well away from us."

Ignorant to the harmless gossip, Jeongguk offers you a little challenge. He holds the envelope above his head, without even checking to see if it's got a decent amount of tokens, and smirks

"You can have it if you can reach it."

He's looking down at you, smug, eyes narrow. You know he's trying to bait you - and it's fucking working.

On your tippy toes, you hold onto his shoulder for balance and reach up. His spare hand holds your waist to further keep you balanced - or just to get you a little closer. Lowering the envelope Jeongguk keeps it just out of reach, much to your annoyance. Even when you jump a little, he raises it.

"I hate you," you promise him.

"Oh?" He grins. "So we're rivals now, huh? Some Kinda enemies to lovers type shit?"

Rolling your eyes, you lower your tippy toes and step back from him. Cross your arms over your chest.

"Who said anything about lovers?"

It's a valid question, but also one that is easily answered. He can think of a whole host of examples. Settles on the most recent.

"You did," he assures you. "Earlier. After the race. When you were practically undressing me with your eyes in front of all of our friends."

A white, baggy shirt and a pair of black shorts obscure Jeongguk's physique from prying eyes - and looks so fucking good as it does so. He expects you not to drool? Fat fuckin' chance.

Still, you'll not allow him - a man - to see weakness.

"I did no such thing."

"You did," he smirks. Bites down on his lip, and lets the ring do the thing. "Look, I'll cut you a deal, B. Kiss me and I'll give it to you."

"You're evil."

"I am a genius."

"Evil genius," you correct with a smile, and then sigh.

He's a tough bargainer. Even tougher to resist.

"You know, you were right," you eventually admit, getting a little closer. You rest your hand on his hip, and let it gravitate towards the centre of his body. Let it get dangerously close to his cock - and he allows you. Just like he lets you cup his balls, as your hand rubs slowly up and down his bulge. It's so easy to work him up. So easy. "You got me so horny earlier."

"Yeah?"

"Mhhm," you nod, once more on your tippy toes as you press a kiss into the curve of his neck. His skin is warm, despite the chill of the April air. The scent that lingers on his is that of the shower you shared together, and it makes him so hard to resist - but you must. Head in the game.

Before Jeongguk can process the fact he's being swindled, you snatch the envelope from him and dart away from the hidden spot, bolting into the open air of the garden.

Jeongguk can't follow, on account of the fact you've just given him a semi that he needs to rearrange in his underwear, which means victory is yours.

Your yell of ' loser ' echoes back to him, and has him tipping his head back, groaning up at the sky.

"Fuckin' idiot," he berates himself. Should have really seen it coming. You've been competitive as fuck all afternoon, and haven't stuck to the rules a single time.

But Jeongguk isn't the only idiot.

In one hand he'd been holding the envelope. In the other? A collection of his stickers all stuck together. Now, they're on your back. Victory is his - you just don't realise it yet.

You spend the rest of the game avoiding each other. After all, you don't want to neglect the fact you're playing with your friends. It's a bonding experience. Something of which you'll remember for years to come.

The Jilympics? A roaring success. Gold medals all around.

Once it hits the allotted time of one hour, the game is up - and the respective teams sit in little circles on the lawn counting out their tokens. Nabi and Jimin walk around to count the stickers on the players, but keep the tallies to themselves. Want to do a big reveal later.

"Shit," Danbi curses midway through the token count, shaking her hand out instinctively.

Jeongguk glances over. Notices a small bead of blood on her index finger. "Paper cut?"

Nodding, Danbi insists it's no big deal - and it really isn't. Just a small little knick. Will be fixed with a quick swipe of her tongue against it. "No biggie."

Jeongguk nods, but sees the way she continues to study the small wound just to make sure she doesn't get any blood on the papers. It continues to bother her, but she works around it. Papercuts aren't exactly foreign to her. She seems to get them weekly from the receipts she handwrites for her dog-walking business. Still, this one is a little worse than usual. The card used for the tokens is thick.

Tokens tallied, Jeongguk quickly excuses himself while the rest of his group finishes their counting. Knows he could have had more tokens, but had wasted a bunch of time flirting with you instead. Worth it , he smirks to himself, when he thinks of it.

Rummaging around in the kitchen, he swears he saw some plasters in one of the drawers when he was helping you set up for bingo the day before.

"Started the party without me, I see?" A familiar voice sweetly sounds from the entryway. Glancing up from his search, lips ajar, Jeongguk is surprised to be greeted with a familiar face.

"Yun," he stands, straightening himself out. Coughs a little. Clears his throat. "Didn't think you were getting here until tomorrow?"

"Last minute change of plans," she smiles, lips tight, a little sad in her expression - but in such a way Jeongguk knows not to ask for details.

It's a common quality of hers; a refusal to talk about what's upsetting her. Used to put Jeongguk through the wringer whenever she was upset, 'cause he could never quite figure out why. Would go insane just trying. Could never fix her problems for her, because she never shared them.

"Anyways," she holds up some thick card bags, made for carrying bottles. "Where should I put these?"

"Fridge," Jeongguk answers without missing a beat.

She's dressed casually - a pair of relaxed jeans and a small white top, with a cropped grey sweater jacket - hair up, for a change. Her lips aren't red, makeup kept to the bare minimum. Funny, Jeongguk thinks, how much she looks like the Hayun he first knew, when red was only for nights out and not her whole entire personality. It's kinda nice. Bittersweet.

"Of course," she laughs, heading around the island. More than anything, she had been asking permission to enter the space he's in. Knows that there are boundaries in place now, and isn't too sure how to navigate them. Like it or not, this is new to her. She's not gonna get it right every time, but she's not going to make a fool of herself either.

"How was the drive?" Jeongguk asks, preferring small talk over awkward silence. He's still looking for those plaster after all, and doesn't want to go back empty-handed. Especially not now.

"Got the train," she says. "Came straight from Seoul. Grabbed a taxi to the house, so it was no sweat. Pretty easy."

"Really?" Jeongguk chirps in surprise. "You should have called. One of us would have come and picked you up."

He's careful not to say that he would have picked her up - but it's slim pickings. Other than Yoongi, he's the only one who could have.

Hayun laughs, opening the fridge up, unsurprised to see it stocked full of drinks. "You forget I know what you're all like. Didn't really expect any of you to be sober enough."

Jeongguk laughs now, too. She's got a point.

"Anyway," she takes a deep breath, finding space to put her favourite wine away. "I figured you'd still be doing the Olympics. That's today's thing, right? Nabi and Jimins?"

Nodding, Jeongguk finally spots the box of plasters right at the back of the drawer. Is kinda surprised Hayun remembers the running order of the weekend. Is unsurprised that Nabi had spilled the beans to her about the event, even though Jimin had refused to even give Jeongguk a measly hint.

"Just finishing up," he confirms. "Have you seen everyone yet?"

Hayun shakes her head as she folds the wine carriers flat. "Came straight to drop my stuff off. Haven't told Seoyeon I'll be here early. I know she was disappointed with the clash so I wanted to surprise her."

The cynic in Jeongguk thinks it's very typical of Hayun, her desire to be the centre of attention at the forefront of her motivations. The hope in Jeongguk wants to believe it comes from good intentions, just as she says it does. She used to do it for him, sometimes. Would say she was out of town, only to surprise him on a night out. Always used to make his evenings just that little bit more special.

Funny, how things change.

"Well, I won't ruin the surprise," he smiles kindly, closing the drawer before heading to the door. If the rest of the weekend continues like this, he'll be happy. It's painless. A little awkward, granted, and he still doesn't exactly know how to behave around her now that he's not a pining puppy dog, but it's easier than it was. Not everything has to be a fight. The shattered fragments of what they once were can never be fixed, but the sharp edges can be sanded down. Rounded off.

"Hey, Gguk," Hayuns calls awkwardly just as he gets to the door.

He turns to face her. Chirps, as if to say, "Yes?"

Looking a little uncomfortable, it's clear she called after him before her sentences had fully formed in her head. "Look about everything-"

"It's fine," he says. Doesn't want to discuss it. There's really no point. "Things are fine, Yun. Just be nice, alright? The weekend's not about us, or whatever. Just focus on keeping things good for Seoyeon."

She wants to object - to refute the idea that she's the only one who ever plays dirty - but knows better than to do so.

Instead, she nods. "Alright. I'll see you down there."

"See you down there," JunGguk confirms. Knows he definitely could have handled that better, but didn't really want to have to handle it at all. All things considered, it went as well as it ever would have done. Hayun does, at least, seem to be on her best behaviour - and that's something, considering how testing the last couple of months have been.

He manages to push the interaction back out of his mind, but avoids looking in your direction as he returns. You're unfocused on him anyway, caught up in conversation with your team.

Tossing the plasters down onto the mat where his team had been tallying up points, Danbi is surprised to say the least.

"It's fine," she still insists, but takes the plasters regardless. Genuinely appreciates his small act of kindness. "Thank you."

Jeongguk just nods. Doesn't think he needed to be thanked. Was just general human decency, in his eyes. Would have done it for anyone.

It's not until Jeongguk takes his seat that he realises he should give you a heads up. Had been so busy stuck in his own that he failed to remember Hayun's presence affects you, too.

Ripping off a little bit of an envelope, Jeongguk crafts a small paper ball and chucks it at you. Lands just short of your knee. Tries again. Gets it in your lap this time, but you're still busy chatting.

"You really are a toddler, aren't you?" Yoongi grins with a perplexed expression on his face. Doesn't realise what's going on - and won't realise. Not until it's too late. Not until Hayun is walking down from the house, and Seoyeon is excitedly running up to meet her. Engulfing her in a warm hug, Seoyeon is so pleased to see her. Yoongi? Less so.

And you?

Jeongguk can't tell. You're not facing him. Or anyone, really. Your eyes are out towards the sea, watching the waves as they roll and rippled into shore.

This weekend is not about you. This weekend is not about you. This weekend is not about you.

It's about Seoyeon, and Yoongi.

Hayun is one of her oldest friends. Of course, she should be here. If anyone shouldn't, it's you.

Well, no.

It's Hoseok - but you're glad to have him here. Especially when he mutters "Oh, goody . So happy she's here early."

"Shush," you hush him - even if you do agree with his sarcastic jibe. "She looks nice today."

And she really does. You've got the same sweater jacket, you think, just in black. You're not trying to be mean, or bitchy. You're finding positives that can be drawn from the negatives, because you're firm in the belief that we get back what we give out. If there's energy in the air around you, you don't want to be the one making it sour. If clouds are gonna follow you, you'd rather they have silver linings, not storms hidden within.

Glancing over to Jeongguk, you find his wide eyes on yours, top teeth nervously nibbling down on his bottom lip. He tilts his head as if to ask if you're okay. You nod. Offer him a smile. It's really not that deep.

"You?" you mouth back, to which he nods.

It seems that your sanctuary with Jeongguk has been cut short.

You're thankful for the time you had together without her - but her presence just looms over you like an impending lightning strike. Maybe you won't get burned. It's highly likely that you'll avoid it. But there's always a possibility.

With Nabi also with Seoyeon and Hayun, the game is left to play out without the results. Jimin says he'll announce it at drinks this evening. Lets you all disperse. Doesn't fancy trying to battle for attention against Hayun, not when she's already winning.

You and Jeongguk remain exactly where you are, sitting on the grass, a metre or so apart. Facing each other now, neither of you are talking. Just looking. Observing.

Knees to your chest, you're tapping your feet against the floor.

Jeongguk waits for you to finish the pattern of taps, then does the same pattern with his palms on his knees. Sitting cross-legged, he really is the sweetest human you've ever had the pleasure of knowing.

It's all very childish. Neither of you wish to break the silence, but you're both fighting giggles, especially as you up the intensity of the tapping patterns.

Simple pleasures.

The beauty of being in such a large group means that it's easy to avoid those you wish to.

The rest of your afternoon is spent with the people you care the most for. It's a shame to not hang out with Nabi once more, but Hayun being here early is a surefire indication that something went wrong in Seoul. You don't believe that she's here out of the kindness of her own heart.

Perhaps you're overly cynical. Perhaps you're not cynical enough.

Still, as the afternoon carries on, everyone sets about getting changed for the evening ahead. It's just a sit-down meal and drinks tonight - far more dignified than the previous evening - but Seoyeon requested that everyone dresses a little nicer than usual.

"Hey, DB," Yoongi calls over to you as you head down towards the house. "Can you get Jeongguk for me? He's supposed to be helping with the meat."

"Yeah, sure," you nod. He'd gone to get changed a little bit before you specifically for that purpose, knowing he'd want a shower before you hopped in there. It'll be your second of the day, but this time you really will be quick. Just wanna rinse yourself off after all the running around today, especially if you want to feel even half-nice in your evening attire.

The house is quiet as you enter. You'd passed Nabi and Seoyeon on your way down to the house. They'd asked you what you were wearing and you'd replied, honestly, that you didn't know. Jeongguk packed after all. It's sort of a surprise. You just hope there are options.

Sliding the main door shut, you call out to Jeongguk.

"Gguk? Shower or room?" You ask, wanting to know where to locate him - but given that his bedroom is just a step or so away, you reach for the door handle - only for it to be locked. Odd . "Gguk?"

Brows furrowed, you don't care to hide your surprise. He never locks the door. Or at least, rarely. Jimin walked straight on in just a couple of hours earlier.

"Yeah," he says, a little frantically, voice muffled through the door, "Just gimmie a second."

The walls in this place are thin.

You should have realised this on that first evening, when Jimin and Nabi definitely heard everything.

But you're realising it now, as you hear a panicked whisper. Can't make out for the life of you what's being said.

All that's for certain is that he's not alone.

Yet when he opens the door, still shirtless from his shower, hair wet, he pretends as if he is all by himself.

It's written all over his face, though. Guilt. Shame.

And on his bare chest? His sternum?

Crimson red rouge.

Just a tiny smudge. Just enough.

Mouth resting ajar, brows contorted by hurt, the split fraction of time you're caught in turns into slow motion.

Everything is hard to comprehend - but hardest of all? The one thing you refuse to take in?

The small grey jacket on his bed.

That one's a real bitter pill to swallow.

"Oh," you whisper, because what else can you do? Cry? Get angry? Fuck that . "Sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"B-" he tries to interrupt, but whatever he has to say, you don't want to hear it.

Backing away, you shake your head. You, too, have a lockable bedroom door that you very much intend on utilising, now.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," you smile, all rather disconcertingly. You won't give him a reaction. Won't let him see your hurt.

"No, wait-"

"Yoongi was after you. Something about meat. But I see you're busy, so I'll leave you be."

"B-"

"Later, buddy ."

The door slams shut behind you - and with it shatters the false promises Jeongguk had vowed to you just a few short hours earlier.

note - that's all for today!!! i was behind schedule so didn't get a chance to add more!! apologies <33

49 notes · View notes