#wish i had more time to spend on colors and rendering + wish i got to finish this on my pc and not my old ass laptop with a bad screen
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7-7-cherry · 6 months ago
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HBD Dice <3 <3 <3
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kaksparkz · 5 months ago
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for the artist askgame, idk how many youve answered already but 3,4,10,12,21,24 and 35!
hello helloo!! sorry im just answering this now, been pretty busy^^ (also, using this chance to thank u for your support!! i always see u interacting with my stuff here hbasfcyhdb you're a sweetheart😭💕)
Your fav piece/s?
Probably this vergil one! i still love how it looks djddgnds my art peaked here im afraid,,,,,
Piece you wish got more love?
hmm, this is an interesting one!! tbh i dont mind it much but this johnny fanart got waaaaay more attention on instagram!! i mean,,, i have a lot of mk moots there so it makes sense lol (and also just got to 1k followers on IG!! crazy stuff💌)
How do you deal with artblock?
to be honest, once i realize i have artblock i stop drawing for a couple of days. if i keep insisting on drawing i just get more and more frustrated and it makes it worse imo. so i like to spend some time doing my other hobbies!!! (´▽`)
usually i just come back to drawing once i regain motivation or i get a cool idea that i need to sketch so i wont forget. and when that happens, my artblock is usually gone!! so,, i guess i just wait for it to go away? lol not much advice i can give on that sadly :/
Describe your process while drawing!
CHAOTIC. to say the least.
i spend like. half an hour on pinterest beforehand getting inspo & searching for refs and ONLY THEN i can start drawing. i start on SAI1, do the sketch and if i like how it looks, i just clean it up. if it dont, i do 'proper' lineart. after that i start coloring and shading!! this is my fav part tbh. once im done shading i color the lineart so its not completely black. then i open up SAI2 and start doing more rendering, adding overlays & effects. that part is also SO FUN cause it makes everything come together so nicelyy. my art process is a pretty big 'trust the process' till that part lol.
there's ALWAYS music or yt videos playing in the bg, and me taking A LOT of 15 minutes breaks cause that one song is so good and i have to stop drawing and start singing while looking at the spotify lyrics like im hypnotized LMAO
What do you thin you artstyle woukd taste like?
people always say my art looks so tasty and. i kind of agree!! like. smth very sweet. it really depends on the colors i use on the piece but,,, either hard candy, gummies, marshmallows or even syrup i think!!!
What's a compliment about your art that has always stuck with you?
i get super giddy with every compliment i get so i dont think i can remember one in particular??? but istg people always say the funniest, most sweet things ever and it's so nice to hear :3 but if i had to say smth,,, i once had the chance to talk with this one incredibly talented illustrator, and he kept telling me how he thought my stuff looked amazing. and i was like!!! wow!!! you actually like my stuff?? what!!!!
Piece of advice for my younger artist self
i would sit this little girl down and talk to her for hours tbh poor thing was STRUGGLING 😭😭😭
i guess my best advice for her (and for anyone who reads this, too!) is to not be so hard on yourself. art is a skill, and it takes a lot of time to build it up!!!
i used to get SO extremely upset when my stuff didnt look the way i wanted it to and ughhh. took me literal years to find my artstyle too and that didn´t help AT ALL with how frustrated i was feeling. i felt,,, stuck??
but now i look back at my art journey and. wow have i improved!! maybe if that little girl saw the stuff i do today she wouldn´t be so sad about her art :´] not to say i don´t struggle today, i still feel stuck and frustrated often!! but i guess i learned to be kinder to myself. but i still have lots of things to improve about my art!! i wonder when i´ll take another look back and see how much i´ve progressed since today,,,
thank you for the ask!! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)
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nicklloydnow · 11 months ago
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“The transfer of True Lies has a truly vile quality to it, a feeling like someone clandestinely dosed you with LSD just a hair below the threshold. At times it can look passable in motion, but then you notice something out of the corner of your eye: a thick fold of skin, a framed photo of a child, folders that are too thick at the margins, cheeks that look rendered. It’s that familiar dread at the pit of your gut when you spot AI generated imagery, a combination of edges not looking quite right and surfaces that are simultaneously too smooth and too sharp. A crime was committed here, and you can tell.
The transfers of Aliens and The Abyss are markedly less bad than True Lies, but I still have difficulty watching them. The skin looks sterile and waxy with too much film grain removed. Everything looks like it has raytracing on. Both transfers are, however, within acceptable parameters for most normal people.
The recent transfer of Titanic got a similar treatment, with similarly mixed reactions online.
“Why would you do this?” is a logical question. It’s worth contextualizing who handled these “restorations” – namely Park Road Post, a subsidiary of Peter Jackson’s WingNut Films. They have worked on multiple films in the past, but the two that are most germane here are Jackson’s They Shall Not Grow Old and the 3-part Disney+ documentary The Beatles: Get Back. Both movies recontextualize pre-existing footage and, importantly, do so with an aggressive use of machine learning. They Shall Not Grow Old upscales and colorizes old World War I imagery in an attempt to set the bloodshed in a more modern context, while Get Back recycled footage shot for Michael Lindsay-Hogg’s Let It Be, including moments never before seen by the public, to elucidate the process behind the creation of some of The Beatles’ most iconic songs.
(…)
I wish we had stopped Jackson then and there. As my good friend Danielle joked, this was a trial balloon. People praised Jackson for doing this to Lindsay-Hogg’s footage in the name of restoration, and it emboldened him to do worse things. Before the True Lies debacle, the most recent example of this was the aggressively saccharine and confusing Now & Then, a long unfinished demo now finished by Ringo and Paul, edited together with archival footage of younger John and George composited in an a fashion that can be charitably described as tremendously weird.
Lest I am accused of being a luddite, I firmly believe there are many use cases for this technology. Nvidia’s DLSS and competing variants generally work very well on the games they are trained on. I regularly use Flowframes in the rare case that I need interpolation. I have often used waifu2x and now chainner if I need to photoshop a still and my source is bad, and there are databases of countless AI upscaling models. But the flip side to this is that these technologies are often used in place of proper ingest. “Crap in, crap out” is a truism for a reason. I spend a lot of time regularly capturing VHS and Laserdisc at the highest possible quality for fun, and when I see people who should know better say “Just use Topaz” (a commercial AI upscaler) instead of learning how to correctly ingest footage and deinterlace it, it makes me want to pull out my hair, because it almost uniformly looks bad to anyone who works with video professionally.
When you finally do see a piece of footage transferred well, it can be breathtaking. Good archival practices require a lot of institutional knowledge and labor. It’s an art when done well, and the people who do it care so much about what they do. But the modern application of much of AI is precisely about taking labor out of the equation. Why transfer a tape correctly when we can just have a computer guess badly instead? What if crap goes in, and it doesn’t come out?
What makes all of this worse is that True Lies, as I understand it, did not need to be shoved through the AI wringer. According to The Digital Bits, Park Road Post had a recent 4k scan of True Lies from the original camera negative. Park Road Post’s own website claims they have a Lasergraphics Director 10K film scanner on the premises. So what is the purpose of adding AI to this mix? Why do that to a perfectly fine-looking film? What is gained here, other than to slightly yassify an Arnold film? At this point, maybe they are simply doing it just to say that they did, because the technology is lying around, like a loaded gun with the safety off.
Nerds who post on blu-ray forums as a rule often need to calm down, and the forum threads I have read about this are no exception, but there are certain cases where a filmmaker is just wrong about how their films should look. Lucas is the infamous notable example, but Cameron is not innocent here in his treatment of his own films. Wong Kar-wai is another notable example, as what he did to Ashes of Time is criminal as was his recent “remasters” of his movies like In The Mood For Love. In certain rare conditions like this, it’s healthy to question if directors have the best interests of their own films in mind, as Cameron himself personally approved of these remasters.
What actually chills my blood more than anything is the thought that a lot of people think this all looks pretty good. You see this mindset at work whenever an AI fetishist posts a stable diffusion image of a woman with 13 fingers, 40 incisors and comically huge breasts. There’s an entire portion of the population that takes overt pleasure in the over-smoothed, perverts that prefer all media to be fast, high frame rate, and scrubbed squeaky clean. The cameras on our phones don’t simply capture images anymore, they compute them and ‘optimize’ them. It’s Italian Futurism in 4k, a noise reduction death drive. It’s not simply enough for much of digital cinema to look crystal clear and lifeless; the past should be denoised, grain managed and cleaned to conform to that standard. It is expedient and profitable if people don’t remember what film is supposed to look like.
I don’t think anyone gets into preservation to destroy film. I believe that everyone involved with this process worked hard and had the best interests of the film in mind, but the exact nature of restoration itself can vary wildly. I believe that some companies get blinded by new tech, get high on their own supply, and that can result in work that is destructive instead of restorative. I don’t know what the solution to this is in the world we live in, outside of decoupling film preservation from the profit motive whenever possible.
But I am certain about one thing. For a while, much of gaming tried looking like Aliens. Now, Aliens looks like a video game. And that doesn’t sit right with me.”
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phoenixfangs · 11 months ago
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being burnt out fucking Sucks because its like, when im Anywhere But My Apartment all i want to do is draw all day, i fantasize about all the things i want to draw instead of doing work or errands, but the SECOND i get home and have TIME to draw, suddenly all that energy is Gone =_=
i havent gotten BETTER at drawing or improved any of the techniques ive wanted to improve in years because i just dont draw as much as i used to, and i feel like i dont have as much time to dedicate to drawing anyway; i work 40 hours a week so when i get home im exhausted and dont want to use my brain or stare at screens so close to my face anymore, and im weak/sick half the time nowadays anyway so i just never have the energy to pick up my heavy ass fucking stupid tablet and draw. i feel like ive got a better Eye for stuff by virtue of spending all day every day Looking at things, but my muscle memory for actually putting what i see in life or in my minds eye down on paper or on the tablet is so weakened, and thats really disheartening :( i feel like im not at the skill level i thought id be at by 25, and im following all these amazing artists doing what i WISH i could do, and theyre all like 19 or 20
im sketching a little more frequently though because the riza hawkeye autism is Real for me, which is good, but sketching is about all i have time/energy for because trying to line/color something, or practice rendering (one of the skills i wish i had but dont), would take twice or thrice as long, and sketching alone is already taking so long that im staying up past midnight doing it—and of course im a bearer of the curse (adhd) so if i cant be reasonably satisfied with a drawing by the time i finish the first sketching session, it gets abandoned Forever because it didnt turn out perfect and finished the first time
BWARGH. i had more to complain about than i realized when i started writing this post.
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cringefaillosersummit · 2 years ago
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shadow the hedgehog
One aspect I love: how much he cares for those he loves and how he is made up of each of them. everyone he has ever loved is part of the picture that is shadow, makes up every atom of his being.
One aspect I wish more people understood about them: his whole character arc is about self-autonomy and doing what he wants to do, not because others have told him to do. sth is a series about finding personal freedom and sonic helps those around him find their way to achieve that specific freedom. for shadow, it's moving on and not letting the promises made to those who have long since passed dictate who he is or what he does. not letting anyone dictate his path. it's about passing on from grief and starting fresh, while still honoring those you have loved. there's a reason why majority of his villains have all wanted to control shadow in some shape or form. gerald, eggman using him as the basis for the androids, black doom, mephiles, even infinite. and each time he comes back, reasserting himself and piecing himself together. im gonna cut this off here bc i am way too wordy when it comes to shadow the hedgehog.
One (or more) headcanon(s) I have about them: he's actually shorter but his air shoes give him extra height the airshoes are actually mobility devices!! This Hedgehog is Trans Masc. he/they pronouns frfr chileno. trust me. he has sharp claws! he's a living chaos energy battery basically. the way the inhibitor rings work is that they regulate his innate chaos energy by helping it circulate more easily. once he takes them off, his power is no longer restrained but its because the chaos energy is coming out of him at a greater quantity so he is effectively a glass canon. he ended up leaving his super form because while sonic has harnessed his chaos energy to go super, shadow honed it into his chaos control/snap/spears/etc. his favorite color is actually yellow because it reminds him of maria's hair and he loved playing it when he was a kid maria called him "mi sombrita" (my little shadow) and thats where he got his name he knows how to dance! is very good at it!! he started staying with rouge and omega only after shit went down in shth 2005 before that he was wandering and thats why he looks unkept in the renders
One character I love seeing them interact with: TEAM DARK RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH TEAM DARK LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
One character I wish they would interact with/interact with more: need more interactions with surge and metal sonic dear god there's something i can say about being created/changed for a purpose and trying to figure out if there is more to you than just that. i am going to scream.
One (or more) headcanon(s) I have that involve them and one other character: he loves cream and charmy and is so willing to babysit whenever vanilla or vector asks he and omega have been banned from 8 different rage rooms because they rage a little too hard and destroy fucking everything he enjoys spending time with amy and tails because they remind him of maria knuckles will sometimes let him chill on top of the emerald like he lets rouge do just because the natural powers of the chaos emerald help his chaos energy feel more calm. perfect nap spot. he and omega gave the shovel talk to knuckles but then they ended up just fighting bc they were bored. they knocked over some trees. sonic drags shadow to different places to get him fully familiarized with the 21st century. shadow makes a show about protesting but he genuinely considers sonic a good friend. sonic and shadow had a big conversation about what happened in sa2 and shadow doesn't remember everything but sonic just had to let some things off his chest (their therapist recommended talking it out. 5 months ago.) shadow helped sonic out after the aftermath of frontiers shadow and metal are friends. fuck you sega. vector was the one who actually mentioned the idea of therapy to shadow and rouge after shth 2005
OKAY THATS ENOUGH I HVE TO STOP IT HERE THIS IS ALREADY SO FUCKING LONG
Send me more characters!
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rwqv · 4 months ago
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HOW EXCITING.... i just got back from my mamas birthday celebration too ... muehehhe
im at chapter 196 and i am sorry to be the one to say this but the culling games is a little bit of a snooze fest.... its just not my favorite theres so much nonstop fighting (i know its a shonen but still) and liek all theyre trying to do is save gojo 😓😓😓 and there r so many new characters i cant keep up.... except my goat remi i luv her
but Yes.... i am in art block too ugh ive been wanting to practice rendering cus its actual booty but liek i always spend 98% of it looking for inspo and 2% actjally drawing LOL
i think you should draw .... nobamaki .... with eyepatch nobara .......
i hope u overcum your art block my goat
AAWWW thats so cute!!! i hope she had a great birthday!!!
im kinda regretting not buying the hidden inventory arc or at least whatever else bc i enjoyed those more...like i love badass maki and everything but the culling games feel different like a kind of interlude before gojo vs. sukuna... :( like in book 17 alone they threw the whole zenin clan at you and im like whatt bro slow down who is zenin poopy number 562 i dont care just die already vro... point system also looks like its gonna make me wanna die bleh. i get its a shonen but put some more damn emotions in there!!!!!!!!!! just a bit more slice of life please before i die i miss the beginning when everyone was a okay!!!!!!!
i will be watching for remi just for u ^_^ maybe when i reach it i can draw some for uu
I KNOWW rendering sucks i can not focus on coloring a drawing well for more than like 1-2 horus before getting super bored... and i really wanna learn color theory or whatever but i just feel so deep in art block im thankful im not the only one... but ur so right looking for inspo makes you feel so good but then i feel nothing when i want to draw. ALSO UR RENDERING IS SO GOOD like ive always been jealous (in a good way) of your rendering and colors and im always like yummy yummy in my tummy u do so good i wish i had ur coloring skillz
I WILL DRAW NOBAMAKI FOR U!!!! ill try to make it good with colors and stuff i just want to get this response back before an ungodly amount of time i hope u overcum artblock too my W for winner
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yanderechuu · 3 years ago
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Shower Thoughts
yandere!Class 1A x fem!reader
[3.2K]
Summary: Momo wasn’t as trustable as you had presumed.
Warning: Larceny, nonconsensual touching, masturbation
You used to spend roughly ten minutes in the shower, only ever needing to soak your body in the water, apply shampoo and body wash before rinsing all the foam of products from your skin and scalp. Shower thoughts simply consisted of the day’s agenda or any special occurrence that had happened the past week, never really drifting off to existential questions and dark notions that would keep you from leaving the bathroom later than usual. You neither necessarily liked taking a shower nor did you dread it, as to you it was only ever a mandatory routine of the day which you handled with a neutral mind.
But now, ten minutes were already a slow thirty, and majority of the time you bothered not to move your arms to make work of your hair, or lather your skin with soap as you normally would do had it not been for the questions plaguing your mind like how your classmates would terrorize your time and space.
Right, your classmates - who would spend every hour of the day with you as if they didn’t have anything better to do. As if you were an important subject of matter next to hero training. You never appreciated it, because from the start, you did not want to have anything do to with them. They smothered and coddled you as if air wasn’t that important to you, disregarding the way you felt about personal space, how it was very significant to you. Rare were the moments of peace as a few of them were always by your side, ‘ensuring your safety’ as they would like to quote it. Why ensure your safety? You had not been a prominent figure in the sports festival, neither did you have a quirk that could be of great utility for the villains unlike Bakugou or Tokoyami. You weren’t a problem child, either. Their justification of following you around like you were some sort of high-maintenance prisoner made no sturdy sense to you.
“There’s this new package of green tea my mother had sent me this week! Would you like to try it, (y/n)?”
“Sure.”
But if you had to choose among your classmates one whom you would tolerate for the following years you’d be in U.A., that would be Yaoyorozu Momo. She was kind and considerate, often determining your feelings before you could voice it out (not that you really had the courage to, most of the time). She was organized and pristine and never had you met someone more befitting for the definition of ‘mom friend’ than her. She was perfect in nearly every way, and even though you’d have the occasional pang of jealousy at some times her perfectionism was displayed (gender envy, isn’t it, (y/n)?), she never seemed to bear mal intent, so you would let the emotions slide. You’d see the galaxy in her eyes if you would stare long enough. Her tea was best substitute for coffee, too.
You never considered her more than a very great friend, though, and to her, that was a problem.
As you sauntered your way over to your dorm with her, you shuffled your bag to take your room key buried in the side pockets. “I’ll go down in a while, but you better make sure you’re in the common room before me.”
You wouldn’t allow your classmates to take advantage of your lone self simply because Momo wasn’t there to fend them off.
“Mhm! Lemon green tea as usual, correct?”
“Yeah. Thanks again, YaoMomo.”
Your use of sotto voce tone on her nickname gave a pleasant shiver down her spine; her eyes almost rolled to the back of her head had she not restrained herself. Having been always kept to yourself, you never felt the need to adjust your volume for others to hear properly, so oftentimes your voice came out in a whisper - not that she minded, of course. You sounded more sensual that way.
“Are you going to take a while or will I have to brew tea right away?”
“Training was more strenuous than usual, and my muscles can’t seem to relax,” you explained, “so I’m going to take a quick shower.”
From your peripheral vision as you were focused on your bag to fish out the key, you saw Momo’s jaw slack upon hearing your plan to take a bath. It was odd, but you didn’t give particular attention to it when you finally took out your desired item. You failed to notice the way she abruptly settled her gaze on the key, inspecting it as if she was deliberating its shape, form, and material, and installing it to memory.
“Oh- oh!” She exclaimed. “I do remember having some body wash that help soothe muscle strains and body aches. I can hand them to you if you want.”
You shook your head, smiling lightly. “You’re too kind, YaoMomo. But I think just hot water will do for me.”
She watched as you opened the door to your room, giving her one more smile before disappearing inside and locking the door with a distinct click. As soon as you did so, she pulled the sleeve of her wrist up, developing with her body lipids a key the exact copy of the one you had held.
You certainly lied when you had said you were going to take a ‘quick’ shower. Already ten minutes into it did you only decide to sleek yourself with liquid body soap, initially absentmindedly rubbing it on your body, before you gradually got rougher with your movements and soon you found yourself scuffing your own flesh with vehement motion.
They were excessively touchy again, your classmates. Denki got too close to your face while delivering a pick-up line that made you wish you didn’t exist in order to hear it, and upon nearing you did Bakugou pull you away from him, cursing at him to buzz off. He took his time feeling up your waist - the part he used to grab you - while at it. During lunch, as you were once again coerced into joining his group to the cafeteria, Izuku refused to let go of your hand as you walked, and Uraraka as adamant with hugging you by the hips with one arm. It was what girlfriends did, she said, and you were not entirely sure whether or not she referred to that word romantically.
And if not, then did girlfriends also normally touch the parts of which you did not want to be touched on? You felt, clear as day, a bare hand resting on your thigh when you sat on your usual spot, dangerously close to lifting your skirt for everyone to see, and when you gave Hagakure’s faceless face a questioning look, she asked you what was wrong. Her uniform sleeve was literally floating on top of your lap, and still she had the gall to pretend as if she was not touching you with lacking consent. 
 You were not safe from Shoto, either, when he offered to readjust your uniform tie and you were in no place to decline (you had the right to, but they just stripped you off of it), his breath hitching in ecstasy as his fingers brushed your chest; he was, audaciously enough, not hiding his bliss. Then he rubbed your shoulders to ‘warm you up,’ when all he really intended to do was motivate his own fantasy that you were his and he was simply scenting you like some fucking alpha to his omega.
You turned no blind eye to their gesticulations. You never once found it endearing, and wished they would stop with whatever the hell this was called, because you were quite sure this was past the border of molestation and could already be rendered a form of bullying.
But not once did you consider the possibility of having a class obsessed with your quaint self.
So you supposed that until you’d find a way to deduce their idiosyncratic actions and tendencies then you would have to make do with your own bathroom as your safe space. Momo was the only classmate you could confide to, so at least she was there.
Unfortunately, you had yet to see the other side of her coin.
Because as she was just right outside your bathroom door, obsessively taking in every bit of item you owned inside your dorm room like a madman, you were left with the impression that she was all you could ever ask for in a friend. You didn’t know how she was not any better than the rest of your classmates, adoring your very existence to the extent of insanity; how she’d crave for you so often and so terribly that she’d feel herself clench when you do so much as merely spare her a glance. And you had done that a lot today - she would have to relieve herself for it.
She spotted the heap of clothes right by your bed; it became apparent that you had stripped yourself off of it before entering the bathroom and taking a shower. Walking towards it, a portion of your seamless underwear came to view, and she resisted the urge to render into a mound of horniness in order to pick it up and inspect it closely.
It was a lighter color of (s/c). A plain, simple, modest undergarment item, still it evoked a particular feeling on the bottom center of Momo’s hips. The heat came rushing along her midriff and instigated the muscle of her legs to falter, and as soon as she felt it, a hand of hers drifted past her skirt, feeling up the slick accumulated on the fabric of her own panties only with the knowledge that your panties were currently in her possession. She needed release, but you were nearly finished with your bath, and she was still inside your room.
You walked out of the shower the moment she shut the door of your bedroom. You saw it closed, but you didn’t catch the culprit.
This unnerved you to no end. Undoubtedly, you thought, this had to be one of your classmates. Who else was it supposed to be? Aizawa-sensei (...)? You had yet to know their ultimatum, but you were sure this occurrence was another one of their schemes. You had assumed that all their weird, unappreciated antics were just to get you to socialize with them, but now you didn’t understand why it had gotten to the point of entering your room without permission.
You couldn’t keep this to yourself.
So you planned to bring it up to Momo, a representative of your class and someone whom you deemed trustable enough to share it with. Quickly, you dressed into your casual indoor attire, and rushed outside your room to head to the kitchen, where you presumed she’d be in the process of making your tea. But she wasn’t there.
Instead, she was in her own room, your panties muzzled right into her face and her own fingers buried deeply inside her cunt.
“Oh- oh, god- Ah! (Y/n)!”
Oh god, your panties. Oh god, your panties. The object most intimate to your parts of intimacy, soaking every bit of womanly secretion from your genitalia. Of all the masturbation sessions she had done to the thought of you, this was the hottest. She wasn’t quite sure whether to imagine your cunt on her lips in a position of mutual cunnilingus or your fingers thrusting into her in place of hers. She wanted both.
A whine slipped past her lips. To think that moments ago, she was in the same space as you were nude. Oh, to join you in the bathroom, doing inenarrable things to each other with the use of the showerhead. To touch your skin selfishly rather than only watch as she would do during class hours.
She came with a squeal, falling face-down to bite the duvet of her large bed. Gone in her hazy mind was her promise to you of lemon green tea, and as she still basked in the pathological euphoria of getting off, you were in the common room, anxiously waiting for her return.
But just as you had expected, someone was bound to spot you alone and take this as an opportunity to be with you, and they just so happened to be-
Oh. Aoyama.
He offered you a slice of cheese with his usual grin before settling down a few feet beside you, enough to leave you be in your personal bubble. You gave him occasional glances, unwrapping the cheese from its casing and he just sat there, eating his. He was alright, you guessed - another tolerable classmate of yours next to Momo. Perhaps it was because you used to always be alone in the classroom with him during break time that you were at ease with his presence. Or maybe he just seemed so gay and that, for some reason, comforted you. One gay presence could comfort another lol.
“It’s delicious.” Your comment came out inadvertently.
“Oui. Only the best quality for the best person.” He flaunted.
You weren’t exactly sure whether he was referring to you or to himself, but you paid little attention to that as the cheese was certainly delicious; you were not lying.
“It’s odd how your chose to take a bath at this time of the day.” He spoke.
You stopped chewing.
He meant to refer to your damp hair, but having just suspected your class of breaking and entering your room, you thought otherwise.
“I-” You choked on the cheese, ending up needing to gulp it like liquid content instead of breaking it down to fit your throat. 
Immediately, he sprang up in concern, stepping over to you to gently thump you on the back. “Are you alright?”
“No- I mean- I just-!” You wheezed, occasionally having to clear your throat. You swatted his hand away from you; you hadn’t meant to appear rude, but you did. You stood up in a rush. “L-look, I have to go.”
“Don’t you want to drink water?”
“I’m- fine,”
With your words, you took off from the common room area and headed back to your room. There were two sets of emotions that mixed to form the bile in your throat. One was wrath and humiliation upon the discovery of Aoyama’s actions. The other was betrayal and confusion from Momo’s absence when she had said she’d be brewing tea for you, and it wasn���t the tea that disheartened you. She knew of your issue with the class, and if she were busy, couldn’t she have texted you a heads-up?
She shouldn’t be surprised when at the next time she saw you, you interacted with her less. Your intention to distance yourself from her was most prominent, and it didn’t help that your classmates took notice of this, because now they were taking advantage of the situation, tagging you along with them in spite of your futile attempts to decline now that Momo was nowhere to tell them off. When she’d talk to you, you would answer, though your voice was back to speaking to her like she was a stranger. 
Resentment was stronger than ruing the lack of intimacy between you two. It was as if she had received your panties in exchange for the time she’d be spending with you, oddly enough. After much deliberation, she came to realize that this was your little ‘tantrum’ after not being able to meet with her the other day. 
It was pretty cute, she thought, that you’d try and make her acknowledge the fault on her part by ignoring her.
You didn’t walk with her back to dorms as per usual that dismissal. Instead, just like what you had used to do before finding consolation in her, you walked alone, accomplishing being able to avoid your classmates as you did. By the time she reached the dorms, you were in the kitchen, fetching a glass of water to satiate your throat. She took a hold of your wrist before you went back to your room.
“(Y/n),” she pleaded, “tell me what’s wrong.”
You looked at her with a reluctant expression. Perhaps you should. After the short while that you had been hanging out with her, her presence turned into something you came to miss. You wanted her back, but not in the way she wanted you.
“I-it’s just,” you stammered out, “y-you know how I feel being alone in the common room without you. I... I’m not comfortable with our classmates when you’re not around.” She took pride in this. “I don’t take it lightly how you left me alone the other day...”
Your voice faltered out the longer you spoke.
So she was correct; you were certainly having your little ‘tantrum.’ With a guilty smile, she left your wrist to hold your hand tenderly, and suddenly it dawned upon you the feeling of whenever Bakugou held your waist, Shoto nuzzled his face on your neck or Izuku invaded your personal space.
Fear and apprehension.
Before you could preach your objection to whatever she had planned ahead for you, she dragged you along with her and you both reached her dorm room before you could comprehend where she was taking you. 
“I’ll make it up to you.” She said, making you sit on her large bed.
Then she proceeded to make you tea, boiling water with an electric kettle situated on top of her study desk; there also laid a tea set next to her three books, which you assumed were those of which would aid her in the utility of her quirk, like encyclopedias. Beside those was a piece of cloth, unfolded, unkept - a (s/c)-colored silk fabric.
Your face drained of color.
She pushed the books towards the cloth, completely obscuring it from your view and leaving the table disorganized. You knew Momo, neat and orderly as much as possible; she wouldn’t do that without reason.
Now that you thought about it, the same day someone had barged in your room, your underwear had been missing from your set of laundry garments. You spent the next whole day actively avoiding Aoyama, thinking he was the culprit to this felony. At the present moment you were reconsidering your allegation.
“U-um, Momo, I need to go-”
“Here!”
She yelled it so giddily, so uncharacteristically, as she pushed the cup of tea towards your way. How she did so was very quick that you had not the time to take it properly, and steaming liquid fell to your décolletage, past the cotton of your uniform and streaming down the valley of your breasts. It was a moist mess. She loved every bit of it.
“Oh! Oh, my bad. I’ll- I’ll clean you up!” She exclaimed, all flushed and excited.
You didn’t find it in you to push her back when she began to do exactly what she had said, taking your blazer off, loosening your school tie and unbuttoning the dress shirt underneath, only ever being able to stare at her with eyes that evinced betrayal, because it slowly occurred to you that she was satiating her own selfish obsession with you all under the ruse of maintaining a decent friendship. 
“(Y/n),” She breathed out, “I adore you.”
She was no different than the rest of your classmates, and you were a fool to think otherwise.
1K notes · View notes
yslkook · 4 years ago
Text
TiO (8)
mind of mine masterlist
summary: jungkook is a man of mystery and you take him on a date.
pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc
warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, a shitty relationship, unprotected sex (pls use protection, these two are being foolish) , some choking, grinding, making out, oral
word count: ~6.3k
a/n: if you want to be tagged, send an ask plz. would love to hear your thoughts. a big thank you to @cutechim for creating the texts for me lmao<33
***
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Jungkook remains tight-lipped about what it was he had done over the weekend, when he had gone with Jin and Mina to a tattoo convention a few hours away. They had ended up staying the night there, and while Jungkook wanted to ask you to come with him, he wondered if it was too soon to ask. After all, you were both still enjoying each other’s company at your own sweet pace.
Eventually his little secret gets put on the back burner for the rest of the week. You were supposed to get bubble tea with him on Tuesday, but unfortunately a last minute work issue with your client and your application came up. You’d ended up working late, your eyes screaming in fatigue and went straight to bed that evening. He had understood, of course he did.
On Thursday, he was supposed to grab lunch with you at a cafe that he thought you might like, but this time it was him who had a conflict. His older sister had showed up to the tattoo parlor without any prior notice. She does this every so often, when things aren’t going well with her on again, off again shitty “boyfriend”.
Jungkook had sighed, cancelling on lunch with you to spend time with Jooyeon and comfort her with fried chicken and ice cream. You had sent an understanding thumbs up and a promise to call him later and end up having lunch with your work wife, Kira instead.
Kira who doesn’t fail to point out the glow in your cheeks and your general aura, even though it’s been nearly a week and a half since you saw Jungkook last. You roll your eyes and ignore the flames in your cheeks (and her laughter), and change the subject to your work projects. She tells you about some of the coding issues and compliance issues she’s been having with her software, and you tell her about the hours you’ve been pouring into your application for your client.
It doesn’t bother you that Jungkook hadn’t asked if you wanted to meet his sister. After all, he’d told you bits and pieces about her and her relationship. And in the last few weeks, your relationship has blossomed so beautifully. There was no reason to rush, you think. You’ll meet her hopefully under better circumstances for her.
Jungkook spends most of the evening with Jooyeon, letting her cry herself to sleep in his bed. His sister hardly ever cries like this, with sobs full of pain and hurt because of another man. But it’s been happening too much lately, too many fights and too much of Joo losing herself. It makes Jungkook see red more often than not. He knows what you’d say- that she needs him more than anything else and to not be so impulsive.
He makes sure Joo eats a warm meal before she falls asleep and he shoots you a text:
Jungkook: baby
You: hi
You: everything ok?
Jungkook: no, joo’s bf is a fkin asshole
Jungkook: she’s sleeping
Jungkook: miss u
You: im sorry baby :( can i call you?
He jumps at the chance, the sound of your voice and sight of your pretty face on video call instantly calming him. Jungkook is sure to wear a beanie to hide his surprise for you (but you don’t question it. After all, you’ve seen him in beanies plenty of times before and it’s dim in the apartment.) He moves to the couch, asking softly for you to tell him about your day. You recount every single detail from memory, shifting under your covers to tell him about how you had nearly stumbled down the stairs in front of your manager’s manager because you had missed a step.
It pulls a soft laugh from him.
“Jungkook,” You say quietly, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I don’t even know what to say,” Jungkook sighs, “She’s just… Byung-woo and her have had this on and off thing for years now. He won’t commit to her and she just refuses to see him for what he is. Like, when it’s good, it’s really good. But when it’s bad, it’s awful. I wish she’d fucking see it for herself. I don’t know what to do anymore, baby.”
“Oh, baby,” You murmur, wishing you could hug him, “All you can do is be there for her but be honest with her. She’ll come around soon, hopefully. It’s hard to see past a shitty person sometimes, when all you want is for them to love you.”
“I hope so, too,” Jungkook says, “She’d love you, you know?”
“Who wouldn’t?”
“Don’t get a big head,” Jungkook chuckles, “Maybe you can meet her someday. Under better circumstances, I mean.”
“Really? You want me to meet your older sister?” You ask softly, feeling a little flustered, “That’s serious.”
“I told you, baby,” Jungkook soothes, “I’m serious about you.”
“Yeah. Seriously crazy about me,” You giggle to yourself. You know if Jungkook was with you, he’d flick your forehead.
“It’s true,” He murmurs, “Maybe I can see you this weekend?”
“Yeah, you still have to show me what you did over the weekend! Take care of Jooyeon first,” You reply, “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll drop stuff off, just tell me.”
“I will,” Jungkook promises, “Sleep well, I miss you.”
“Sleep well. I miss you.”
***
Jooyeon ends up leaving on Saturday morning after a lecture from Jungkook and with determined resolve in her eyes. You jump at the chance to take him out tonight, knowing how stressed he’s been the last few days.
You: be ready at 6:30 tn, im taking u out. and dress slutty
Jungkook doesn’t know how to interpret your text when he reads it. He considers asking Mina and Mei what this means, but ultimately leaves it alone. Replying to your message with a quick thumbs up, he busies himself with getting ready to see you (and surprising you, finally after a full week of wanting to show you what he had done.)
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Once you parallel park your car (which takes far too long than you’d like to admit), you grab the small bouquet of purple roses that you had gotten for Jungkook and text him saying that you’ll be up in a few minutes.
Taehyung had caught you struggling to parallel park, and had told Jungkook with a snicker. Which earned him a punch to the arm.
There wasn’t a particular reason that you had chosen to get purple roses for him, other than the fact that they reminded you of him. You hope he likes them.
Jungkook hears a soft knock at the door, and can already envision you behind it. He hopes you like his surprise, the one he’s been teasing you for a week about. You had given no hints of what you would be wearing- you had only sent him one selfie that didn’t give much of a hint into your outfit. He has no doubt that you’ll look gorgeous, but still.
Maybe Jungkook’s nerves shouldn’t be this intense, but he can’t help it. He swings the front door open, only to be greeted by you swaying on your feet with your hands held behind your back. His heart throbs when you pull your hands apart and present him with a beautiful bouquet of purple roses.
How ironic.
“Hello,” You say with a small smile, suddenly feeling a little shy and gasping when your eyes land on his hair, “Wow. You weren’t kidding…”
His hair is tied back into a ponytail, but it’s unmistakably elegant and so violet. Two neat pieces of his newly dyed hair fall into his face effortlessly, but then your gaze reaches the piercing on his left eyebrow. Your lips remain parted in surprise and without thinking, you reach up to touch his hair. It’s still soft, as it always is.
“Come in, baby,” Jungkook says, taking the roses from you, “You must really like me, huh? Got me flowers and everything?”
“Shut up,” You mutter, cheeks heating up, “Don’t get a big head.”
Jungkook only grins wolfishly at you and winks at you, eyes unashamedly glued to your ass. You roll your eyes, and swat his shoulder as you watch him put the rose in a vase and place it in the center of the dining table.
This isn’t the first time you’ve been in his shared apartment (that he lives with Taehyung and Jimin in) but you somehow feel shy in his presence again, as if it was the first time. The first time you had been here with him had been the first time you had spent the night at his apartment several weeks ago, after a night out with your friends.
You let your gaze wander, curious eyes settling on the subtle matching of the furniture and the cleanliness of the apartment. There’s not a stray speck of dust in sight, but maybe you’re distracting yourself from addressing the pretty purple of his hair. Your mouth is dry, and you’re probably drooling a little. You wonder if Jungkook prepared for this, the same way you did (in that you had washed your car, cleaned every inch of it and gotten a new car freshener).
A faint scent of fresh laundry and lavender sits in the spaces of his home. It calms you and gives you the boost to turn your eyes to him.
“Thanks for the roses, baby,” Jungkook says, giving you a smile and starry eyes. He pulls you into his arms, your back against the counter. “Surprise. Do you like it?”
“Uh,” You mumble, brain deciding to short-circuit with the way he looks at you. His smile turns into a smirk, deciding to further render you speechless by pressing himself closer to you and cradling your neck. He’s careful not to touch your face. He doesn’t want to mess your makeup up terribly, at least not yet.
“I know you like my hair. Your face says it all, baby,” Jungkook continues and ducks his head for a quick kiss, “You’re pretty.” He does quite like this dress, light blue and dotted in small flowers with thin straps. His eyes are instantly drawn to the drawstring at the center of your chest and he quells the urge to pull at it.
Jungkook’s mouth waters when he sees the side split of the dress but you want more from him immediately, but he pulls away to your chagrin. Even with the simple kiss, the burgundy color of your lipstick stains his plump bottom lip.
You shiver. It appears that he tried to take your words via text to heart- to dress slutty. He’s wearing a loose animal print button up, with the top three buttons undone. It gives you a delectable view of his pecs, his collarbones and a hint of the tattoo on his right side. As if you weren’t already weak in the knees for him as it was, he wears a black coat and tight, leather pants.
Jungkook pulls it off, like he pulls everything off and the purple hair blends seamlessly with his look. Tonight, he’d opted for two silver hoops in each ear and a thin silver necklace to match.
Your knees are weak, they’ve been weak since you had seen him in this offensive outfit and his hair, his new piercing that was clearly an attack on your entire existence.
The purple hair. The piercing. He’ll be the death of you tonight, you know it. Your legs are wobbly, panties already probably a little wet just from seeing him and from a few of his kisses. But you can’t help it. Without thinking, you press your lips to his, drawing your tongue into his mouth eagerly. You are so hungry, so eager to devour him and drink up anything that he offers you. Jungkook tugs you closer to him lightly by your waist but-
“Seriously? Right in front of my dinner?” Comes an amused voice from behind Jungkook and you nearly screech at the familiar sound of Jimin’s voice.
“I- I didn’t-You-” You stammer, feeling your face heat up to a degree that it’s definitely never heated up to before. You hide behind Jungkook to fix your surely wrecked lipstick. You’re certain his own lips are probably comically smudged with your lipstick as well. “Sorry Jimin, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know, we’ll leave-”
Jungkook only rolls his eyes at Jimin’s wide smirk and knowing eyes. He hears you scolding Jungkook for not telling him that anyone was home, to which he promptly responds “well, you didn’t ask!”
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Despite the very natural and easy flow of conversation between you and Jungkook in your car, you still feel overheated and jumpy, your fingers incessantly tapping on the steering wheel. It’s not Jungkook, it’s you and your own nerves. It’s not the first time you’ve gone out to dinner with him and it’s certainly not the first time you’ve had him in your car. If Jungkook notices, he says nothing.
“Where are we going, baby?” Jungkook asks, looking at you. You don’t meet his eyes, choosing instead to focus on the road despite being at a red light.
“Umm, that place you mentioned the other day. The one we talked about trying together,” You say softly. Jungkook can only wonder why you’re a little quiet, but he thinks he knows. You slip into your head so easily and he doesn’t mind gently tugging you out of your thought cloud and into reality with him.
“Can you help me park,” You mumble sheepishly, “I get nervous parking in such tight spaces.”
“Yeah, pull over here before it’s impossible to,” Jungkook murmurs. You nod and do so, hopping out of the driver’s seat to switch places with him. But before you can get in the passenger’s seat, Jungkook grips your wrist loosely. You look at him curiously, with wide eyes and he drops a kiss to your lips, swallowing your surprise.
“You’re so pretty,” Jungkook murmurs, “So fucking pretty, baby. I love this dress on you.” You preen at his praise, leaning forward for another kiss with a shy smile. He subtly squeezes your left tit before letting his hand travel downward.
“You look really good, Jungkook,” You murmur before he kisses you, “I-I really, really like it. A lot.”
He gently caresses your thigh from under your dress, the heat of his hand shooting straight up your core. Jungkook slips his tongue into your mouth quickly, coaxing your endearing nervousness away. As if you both aren’t pulled over to the side of the street where cars are passing you by (and surely wondering why you both were making out like this in public).
“Are we gonna be those people who have a roadside quickie,” You laugh, gently pushing his shoulder when you pull away.
“Roadside quickie? Get your mind out of the gutter,” Jungkook says but his lips twist into a wicked smirk, “But hey, if you wanna give me road head, I’m not going to complain about it-”
“Ha, you would be so lucky,” You scoff, feeling your nerves beginning to ease out of you, “C’mon, our reservation is soon. And then we can talk about road head.”
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Dinner goes perfectly and after a glass of wine you feel those inexplicable nerves wash away. What did you have to be nervous for anyway? It was Jungkook- Jungkook who you’ve known for years. Your friend before any of this. He asks you about work, how your application is going-
“Your client sounds pretty demanding,” Jungkook muses, “You keeping up with it okay?”
“Yeah, but I’m not even an application engineer so I’m just learning as I go. My true roots are data and data science but I get to see all of it. Which is cool. But also time consuming, like the other evening, I had to read up on the compliance regulations. But my favorite thing is creating modeling and programs for this app, it’s really cool because it’s healthcare specific. So I’m learning about that sector as well, it’s mostly python but we’ve been doing testing with different healthcare providers in the area and they’re all responding really well to it-” You’re rambling, you know it, but your passion for your career knows no bounds and Jungkook makes no move to stop you. He only smiles at you, eyes crinkling and nose scrunching, gesturing for you to continue.
It’s funny. Not even a few months ago, you would have cut yourself off from your own rambling. In an attempt to convince yourself that the other person didn’t need to hear about it. Maybe that was Sora’s subconscious influence on you. Today, you don’t think twice about it, glowing and shimmering under the dim, blue lights of the restaurant as you tell Jungkook more about your job.
He makes your heart race and he’s sitting right in front of you. Your chin is in your hands as you listen to the pretty words slipping out of his lips. He’s so dreamy, and you struggle to not let your gaze stray from his eyes and linger on his exposed tattoos and chest. You don’t even know where to look, deciding to settle on the way his newly purple locks fall to his forehead just perfectly.
“What do you wanna eat for dessert?” You murmur, looking at the menu and cautiously allowing your foot to brush against his.
In hindsight, you should’ve seen it coming-
“You,” Jungkook says easily, as if he’s talking about the weather.
“Corny,” You roll your eyes, but nudge his foot again. You end up deciding on sharing a slice of decadent, chocolate mousse cake. Which Jungkook ends up finishing off when you satisfy your sweet tooth after a few big bites.
He leans over without a second thought, thumbing away stray cream from the corner of your mouth. Your tongue darts out to lick the tip of his thumb and he looks at you with wide eyes before grinning roguishly.
“Wanna get outta here, baby?”
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“Should I take you home, Jungkook?” You ask, finding the courage somewhere in the remnants of the glass of wine currently evaporating from your system to take his hand in your lap once you’re both settled in your car.
“Do you want to take me home?” Jungkook asks with a quirked eyebrow.
“I have some wine I think you’d like at my place. I just got it,” You say a little breathlessly, “And I have to inspect something, I might need your help.” Jungkook laughs, a little derisively and you pout.
“You don’t have to bribe me with wine, baby. You know I would’ve been down regardless,” Jungkook says, squeezing your hand, “What do you need to inspect? Do you have a leak or something?”
“Yeah, I’ve got a leak alright,” You say under your breath, thinking about the growing wetness in your panties, “My man just showed up here with purple hair and an eyebrow piercing, looking like a damn model after one whole week. I have to inspect him.”
“Oh, is that so? In that case, I would love to be your lab rat. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t seen the inside of your bedroom before-”
“Who said you’d get that far?”
“I already did, baby. Did you forget?” Jungkook’s smirk widens, eyes sparkling with mischief. He gently cups your face, thumb on your chin and hovers just over your lips. You think he’s about to kiss you, so you close your eyes in anticipation of his lips on yours.
But it never comes. Instead, his breath fans over your cheeks and he lets out a low laugh. “I sure didn’t forget, and I know you didn’t either.”
You roll your eyes and swat his hand away, ignoring (but letting out a smile) when he chuckles. You decide to hold his hand for as much of the drive back home you can.
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Jungkook’s hands are on your hips even as you’re fumbling with the keys to your front door. He’s a distraction, his warm heat plastered against your back and the simple act of opening your damn door feels like too much of a chore. When Jungkook’s lips glaze over the back of your neck, his fingers roaming your waist, it’s difficult for you to focus.
So Jungkook scoffs and turns the key for you. “Can’t open the door, baby?” Jungkook taunts and you level him with a glare.
“It’s not my fault you can’t keep your hands to yourself in front of my door!”
“You like it,” Jungkook says, shutting the door behind him and hugging you as you try to walk away from him to wash up. You escape his grip with a giggle and lock yourself in your bathroom, while Jungkook waits with a disgruntled pout.
When you come out, you head into the kitchen to pour out two glasses of wine and bring some snacks out. You’re not particularly hungry, though you wouldn’t mind eating and you’re sure Jungkook wouldn’t mind either.
Your train of thought is of course interrupted by the man himself and he wraps his arms around you from behind, pushing you into the counter. One might say that Jungkook is being clingy, but you know this is how he shows his affections. Through physical touch more than anything else. And you quite like it, you like the reassurance of his body close to yours. It’s what you’ve always wanted and never known that you needed.
“Missed you,” He breathes into your hair. Even if he’s been with you for the last few hours… You understand him. It feels like you’re both making up for lost time. For time that you could’ve spent together, rather than apart.
“Me too,” You murmur, “Can you take this to the couch, honey? I’ll bring the glasses and the wine.”
Jungkook hums and kisses your temple, squeezing your ass before heeding your soft demand. You sit next to him, thighs touching, and pour out a glass for both of you to enjoy. You lean against his shoulder, wrapping an arm around his bicep and turn the television on. But neither of you are really paying attention.
“Hey,” Jungkook murmurs, “I had a good time tonight, baby.”
“Don’t I know it,” You say smugly, “It’s not everyday a pretty girl takes you out for din-” He cuts your words off by pulling you into his lap, somehow not spilling even a single drop of wine in the movement. You would’ve killed him if even a hint of a wine stain appeared on your velvet couch.
You press your hand into his shoulder, the hint of his tattoo and the glint of his piercing catching your eye. You swirl your glass of wine with your other hand. “What a precarious position to be in,” You say dryly, even grinding your hips into his playfully. He gives you a look, and stills your movements with one hand on your waist. Jungkook sets his glass on the coffee table behind you and cradles your neck, pulling you down for a sharp kiss. It’s almost desperate and needy, nothing like his kisses from before.
You slip your tongue into his honeyed mouth, tasting seeds of his desperation with your tongue. But then, you remember your wine glass and pull away from his lips with a lewd smack to reach behind you and place it on the coffee table as well.
“So pretty,” Jungkook moans, pushing the straps of your dress to the side and dotting your shoulders in wine-stained kisses, “Pretty girl, my pretty baby-”
You tilt his cheek towards you for a kiss, whining into his mouth at his praise. It shoots down your spine in a delicious hum and his hands roaming the expanse of your back makes you feel warm and powerful.
The way your hips move in time with his, the way you fit into the crevices of his thighs and his chest- he just wants to give you everything. He wants to treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Jungkook will give you everything, if you let him.
“And what about you?” You rasp with swollen lips and wild eyes when you finally pull away. You press your fingers into the exposed, inky part of his chest, where his shirt is unbuttoned for your eyes. “You look so fucking good all the time, but-but I told you to dress slutty and you did this for me, huh? You did this for me, bunny?”
Jungkook’s cock jumps in his tight pants and his throat goes dry. Your eyes are devious, filled with mischief and sin and he gives himself to you fully and wholly.
“Yeah,” Jungkook nods eagerly, “Yeah, I wanted to look nice for you, baby.”
“A-and your hair,” You mumble, feeling a little lovesick, “I love it, I love it, I love it-I just wanna- wanna make you feel good. Can I do that, bunny? Make you feel good?”
Jungkook nods with wide, doe eyes, wondering how the tables were turned so quickly.
“Take me to my bedroom,” You demand softly. The glasses of wine and snacks on the tray are left forgotten as Jungkook easily scoops you up in his arms. Even with your lips soft and slow against his neck, he somehow makes it to your bed.
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It’s definitely not the first time you’ve had Jungkook in your bed (or that you’ve been in his bed). It’s not the first time you’ve peeled his shirt off meticulously and licked your way down his chest, to unbutton his tight pants. It’s not the first time he’s seen you on your knees on your bed (to alleviate the strain on your knees if you were on the floor).
By now, the shock of your impatience has worn off. Jungkook frequently reminds you to slow down, that you both have nowhere to be except with each other.
It looks like his pants are glued to his legs, and while you can appreciate the visual, you want to appreciate the real thing. You groan in frustration and Jungkook does the work for you, pushing the offending fabric away and breathing a sigh of relief. You crawl closer to him, nails featherlight against his taut thighs.
He’s golden, his body taut and spilling with swirls of color in the divots of his muscles. Your mouth waters.
But Jungkook moves your hands away when you start inching closer, wanting to palm his cock. He joins you on the bed, pushing your back to the bed and hiking the skirt of your dress up to your hips. His hands are tight and warm and welcome on your hips, a flare of desire shooting down your spine and straight to your pussy. You buck your hips up towards him with a pout but he only squeezes.
“What did I tell you,” Jungkook murmurs, swatting your thigh lightly.
“You’ll have to remind me,” You breathe.
“Told you to slow down, baby,” Jungkook says, letting his fingers trail up your thighs and slip under your panties. His hand is warm in contrast to the rings on his fingers. They do little to cool your skin, though. “Impatient girl.”
“You say that like a bad thing-”
“And you talk so fucking much,” Jungkook drawls, hovering over you and dropping his weight on top of you, nudging your cheek to kiss you. You reach upwards to thread your hands through his hair but he’s quick, so much quicker than you. Jungkook pins your wrists with just one hand, and the mere action, the mere display of strength has you sighing and your pussy fluttering.
“Lift your hips,” Jungkook says thickly, and you do so immediately. It’s easy for him to pull your black lace panties off to the side. But before he does so he gives you a small smile of approval, knowing that you wore them specifically for him to see.
“I really do love this dress, baby,” He says, “Makes your tits and your ass look amazing.”
“Take it off, then. And see the goods up close,” You say, wiggling against his grip.
“I will,” Jungkook says lazily, “Don’t you worry your pretty head about it.” Without a single warning, he lifts you up easily into his lap. Your bare pussy brushes against his bare cock deliciously, your hips moving of their own accord. He stills you again, and carefully unzips your dress and pulls it off of you. His fingers on you are soft but firm, leaving your head spinning and hazy.
You haven’t even had his cock yet, and you’re about ready to combust. Jungkook pushes you on the bed, your tits bouncing with the force of your back hitting the mattress and hovers over you. You pull at his hair a little impatiently and he groans, the sound reverberating across the walls only to ring in your head. You want to hear it again, and again and again.
“Jungkook,” You whine, “Please, bunny, do something. Look at me, look at my pussy, come clean me up-”
“So needy,” Jungkook murmurs and ignores you in favor of kissing your tits, rubbing your nipples with his fingers, “‘M needy for you too, baby.”
“You’re so hard, so big,” You babble, “Please, want your cock, baby.”
Impatient. Jungkook kisses your chest, your belly, your hips and makes you cum on his tongue twice (while you tear up and cry a little bit, gripping his purple locks fiercely and holding onto his shoulder) before letting you stroke his cock. You’re about to push him on his back to blow him with determined eyes, but he stops you.
It appears he’s impatient too, and he wants to see you cream his cock before cumming all over your tits (which has become his favorite place to).
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“Jungkook,” You breathe sharply, “There, baby, right there-” You cut yourself off with a groan, stilling your hips and pushing his face into your chest. Jungkook’s groans are muffled against your tits, but you feel the wetness of his lips and the warmth of his tongue over your nipples.
“Shit,” You mumble, “Feels so good-”
“So pretty, baby,” Jungkook coos, pulling away from your tits to look up at you with lust in his eyes, “I’m yours, all yours-”
You groan, bouncing on his cock even harder as a flare of possessiveness flashes across your belly. “Move back,” You say softly, “Lay down. I’m gonna ride you so good, baby.”
Jungkook barely has a chance to catch his breath before your nails are on his chest, trying to hold yourself steady as you push yourself down onto his cock, pulling a deep moan of your name from his lips. His hands are tight on your hips, watching with wide eyes- he doesn’t know where to look, what to do.
He squeezes when one of your hands drifts over his and rests on top of his hand.
“I’m yours, I’m yours,” Jungkook mumbles, “Whatever you want baby, I’m yours-”
“You talk so much,” You say hoarsely, with a wicked smile, “It’s cute.” Your free hand floats upward, resting loosely at the base of his neck. His chain is cold against his heated skin but all he can focus on is the glide of your hand over his neck.
His cock twitches inside you and your smile widens. “Is this okay?” You whisper, “This okay, bunny?”
“Harder,” Jungkook groans, “Fuck, harder, baby.”
“Like this?” You ask innocently, closing your hand around the sensitive spots of his neck. His pretty eyes flutter as he nods, a quiet moan slipping out into the air.
“You’re pretty like this,” You say softly, “Shit, you’re pretty like this…”
He lets out a choked laugh at that. You lean forward, pressing your lips to his hastily. Jungkook thrusts upward, hips meeting your ass but your hand doesn’t leave his neck. Not just yet. You breathe into his mouth, allowing him to swallow your soft whimpers.
You wet your lips with a loud smack and cradle his cheek gently. Jungkook is mesmerized by the heat in your eyes, smoldering and burning through his skin. You let your fingers glide over your clit, gathering wetness and before Jungkook can ask what you're doing-
“Open,” You mumble hoarsely, “Open, bunny.”
Pushing a finger past his chapped lips, you gasp at the sight of him below you with your fingers in his mouth.
You could cum just from watching him. His tongue swirls over your finger before sucking lightly with a pretty flush covering his cheeks. Your eyes widen, another gasp brushing over his cheeks.
“Fuck,” You mumble dreamily, “You’re so good, bunny.”
Your body is burning, jaw slack and the feeling of Jungkook’s bare cock inside of you almost too much to handle. It was wildly irresponsible- he wasn’t wearing a condom and you weren’t on birth control, and it was a conversation for later. But you can’t think, not when it feels this good, not when you’ve had a taste of his cock in this way. Besides, he always pulls out just in time. But still, you both should know better.
“Oh, Jungkook,” You whine, “‘m close, I’m so fucking close, make me cum, bunny-”
“Baby,” Jungkook rasps, “My pretty baby looks so good on my cock like this. My smart, kind, b-beautiful girl, my angel-”
Tears prick your eyes- it’s easy for you to become overwhelmed like this. You tug your hands away and thread your fingers through his, dipping your head for a kiss.
“You like that, angel? You like being mine?” Jungkook murmurs, slowing your hips so he can take over. But he knows you’re close.
“Only yours,” You mumble. Jungkook pulls you into his chest swiftly and flips you so that you’re on your back. He places your legs over his shoulders and brackets your head with his forearms, his necklace just above your nose and his hair tickling your face. But you're mesmerized by the determination and adoration in his eyes.
“Jungkook,” You murmur brokenly, “O-oh, y-yeah, baby, there, mmmf-” You squeeze his biceps with a gasp, watching his face closely. Pushing his hair behind his ears, you cradle his cheek and pull him down for a sweet, long kiss.
His fingers dance across your thighs and rub your clit in slow circles and murmuring soft words of praise in your ear. You’re vaguely aware that your body erupts in a tidal wave of flames, warming you from inside out. You don’t hear anything except for your cries of his name, you don’t see anything but him through your blurry eyes.
“Baby,” Jungkook says through clenched teeth, “O-open your mouth, baby. Fuck, baby, this pussy- I’m gonna cum, baby, fuck-”
You open your mouth with hooded eyes and your tongue lolling out and Jungkook pulls out of you abruptly with a series of curses. He’s not fast enough to get all of his cum in your mouth, some of it landing on your cheek. You swallow his cum with a dopey smile and open your arms for him to bury his face in your tits.
“Fuck, baby,” Jungkook says breathlessly, rolling off of you and pulling you into his side, “This pussy’s gonna be the death of me. Where’d you learn to ride dick like that, huh?”
“I’ll never tell,” You mumble, “Gimme a kiss.”
And so he does, tasting himself on your lips. He kisses you nice and slow, just how you both like after a night like this. Eventually he cleans you up and you do the same for him.
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Under the covers with only the shared warmth between your sheets to keep you company, you rest your head on Jungkook’s bicep and look up at him. Your fingers continue tracing patterns on his chest, tracing the swirls and curves of ink as they appear.
Jungkook dips his head to nudge your nose and you softly laugh as his hair falls into your face. “What are you thinking about, baby?” He murmurs, lazily draping an arm over you. By now, you’ve realized that Jungkook is possibly the most vulnerable with you in moments like this. When you’re both bare and basking in a post-sex haze.
That’s not to say that he’s not vulnerable at other times. But it’s just different like this.
You take his hand and thread your fingers through his. His fingers are bare, as you had taken his rings off and they’re currently sitting in your jewelry dish on your dresser.
“We just,” You murmur, “We spent so long being apart. When we should’ve been together. All because I…”
“Stop,” Jungkook says firmly but gently, “Don’t do that. You’re where you’re supposed to be. We’re where we’re supposed to be.”
“But we wasted so much time not being together because of me,” You mumble forlornly, feeling your throat getting a little dry, “Because I listened to Sora and didn’t-”
“Oh, baby,” Jungkook says, pulling you in for a hug and a forehead kiss, “That’s not true at all. We’re together now, and we both had some growing to do. That’s what matters.”
“Okay,” You reply in a strained voice. You don’t quite sound like you believe him, and Jungkook makes a mental note of that. “Do you feel like… we have lost time to make up for?”
“Do you feel like that?” Jungkook counters, making your heart skip a beat, “Because I don’t. I know it’s hard, baby, but you can’t beat yourself up for that. It’s in the past, baby. Forgive yourself. There’s nothing to race against, it’s just me and you.”
“I’ll try,” You say a little meekly. Jungkook nods and pulls you in for a soft kiss, one that has your toes curling and your belly flipping. He shifts so that you’re tucked into his side, surrounded by him and his hands on your skin. He kisses you until your previous thoughts don’t feel so loud in your head, he whispers to you and pulls sweet laughs from your throat until you can detach from the strange cloud that had suddenly appeared.
He’s your safe place.
*********
MoM TAGS: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe @beeeetsandskzreads @maichiverse @hordanhearsawhooo @anonymous2505 @dreadity @mysugarkoo @ULTRAANONYMOUSEY @moonchild1 @fan-ati--c
TAGS: @kookdbean @codeinebelle
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yostresswritinggirl · 4 years ago
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I like Venti so much. Best boy.
How would Venti feel about an S/O with synesthasia. The ability to hear color. One day she goes to him performing on the street with a sketchpap and shows him what he sounds like.
My, my, look who it is. The person who started it all, and ending it. It's amusing how this came full circle and of course you bring me such an interesting yet difficult prompt *balls fist, shakes at sky*
I had a lot of time to think about this and I feel it was still so hard to make. And there's so many variants and uniqueness to each case so this will be a wild ride. But this marks the end of this special event and on to a new one, and I thank you especially for being with me through it!
This fic made me realize I need a better Venti banner lololol
Ethereal Hues
Venti with a Reader with Synesthesia (Specifically, the ability to see sounds)
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The wind-borne bard fancies audiences that sings along, that joins him in his merry tunes. He knows faces, distinguishes them, reads their responses. If it was unorthodox tales he sang, he would laugh at the predicted angry churns. If it were awesome tales of adventures, Venti would bask in the glory of awe and cheers.
And so he finds you to be the most peculiar individual he has ever audienced. You stand in the back far away from the crowd as you carry with you a notebook. Based on the way you steal glances to him whenever he performs out in public and the way your hands moved, you were definitely sketching him, yet you paid no such expression for his songs the same way the others did. And he was sure you were no deaf individual.
He had been intrigued since day one, and he had been so even at the third. When he wishes to come to you, he would always find you packing up immediately after his performances, and he would be swept aside by the task at hand: getting his share of Mora for a fantastic performance.
You were only there for his music, and your interest seem to disappear the moment the music is lost.
So slowly he would adjust his schedule, making it so his songs linger longer, his notes stretching out more just to keep you there in his vision for longer. And yet whenever he privies himself to have caught your attention, it seems as tho you were not really interested at him: even if the distance between you were great, he knows you were looking through him.
This game of cat and mouse had stretched out to seven days.
You managed to attend every tale the bard tells within the walls of Mondstadt but never have you stepped foot inside the tavern of Angel’s Share when he would perform late at night. With this discovery, he doesn’t bother to try lure you out from there, opting to skip performing in the tavern.
Much to Diluc’s surprise. It had gone so that the bartender himself asked if things were not looking great for the bard, but he was met by a smug and conniving smile, that he was quick to smack the shit out of and never bother about again.
Every time the bard wishes to approach you after the last string of his lyre is plucked, he was blocked by the crowd or pulled by a child, enough to render him unmoving, enough of a timeframe for you to disappear. You would think it was you purposely evading the bard’s advances but the way you move and act doesn’t seem like you were running away or in a hurry, more so, you look more disappointed that the festivities had to end every time.
A week of disappointments had led Venti to play his sorrows to his lyre under the tree at Windrise. It was a tune that no one in the public eye has seen him play and he was content in indulging on his own misery.
“Eyes from the fountain bench, of a longing stare had whence.
Slip between thy grasp, even as I call out through a rasp.”
“Ah, a different one this time,” he’d almost fallen out of the branch he was hanging by when a voice suddenly spoke out from beneath the tree’s shade. And there you are in all your glory, an amused expression in your face as you watch the Anemo wielder catch himself before gracefully flying down in front of you in disbelief. “Hello.”
“Hi!” He squeaked out before clearing his throat, adjusting his posture to reflect his usual composed facade with that wide grin.
“The colors brought me here, but I didn’t expect you to be the one producing them.” He watched you fumble with the familiar sketchbook in your hand, his muse in his curiousities right in front of him nonchalantly, as if fate had not been trying its best to separate them for the past week. "With the collection complete, I can finally show you the whole thing!" You practically shoved the pad to his face, forcing him to step back.
And there he saw the most ethereal painting he had seen of himself. His lone form in front of the statue where he usually plays, there in his company were streaks of light blue, reminiscent of Barbara's elemental skill. He clutches the pad for a better look as he notices more blots of complementary colors littered in ecstatic manners. Below, the words 'glee' was written in dark cursive.
Next page had warmer colors, that wrapped around him like silk and satin which would then plunge to the floor like cold white mist. This one was labelled 'Comfort.'
There were four more illustrations that depict numerous vibes of his tunes whenever he had performed, and paired with it comes different colors and patterns. Each one was more detailed than the last and with new vigor he was more than eager to see the next ones—
And then the last one was the latest, where he was once singing his odes and woes from the tree's branches. Yet this one holds a different gesture to it and he sucks in the details with a faraway gaze. Black, gray and navy blue hang like curtain as it seemingly seeps from his flesh, tangling into a weightless form before diverging into a single string of black that casts itself past the borders of the paper. It was like shadows that desperately cling to its owner, ones sadness and desperation taking form into a monster that seeks a vessel.
He looks up to you with eyes once again shining at the brilliance of the illustrations- before he clutched the pad to his chest, a toothy grin and a dangerous glint in his teal eyes, "I'm keeping this~"
To hell with that.
First he takes your sketchpad and rifts through it like there's no tomorrow, and then he lays claim on it?! The audacity of this bard!
With the only arsenal that you had, you started throwing brushes and acrylics at the floating bard until he had to crash land from getting caught by his extravagant cape. What an oversight.
That day, you'd finally sit down with the famous bard and properly got to introduce each other. While you're ecstatic to chat with the person you'd long admired from afar, Venti was more ecstatic at the idea of you and your marvelous power. It's similar to elemental sight, he imagines, and he pried with more inquiries than you had anticipated.
You thought he'd be weirded out by both your colorful sense or the fact that you had stalked him for a week to immortalize his ethereal glow in the shadows.
Yet he was so open-minded about it, wanting to accompany you more on your endeavors and jokingly using you as his marketing manager for more Mora opportunities. You find the idea not so bad.
At one point in time without your knowledge nor acknowledgement, Venti (ever so curious boy) changed his form from his bard friend to copy yours, trying to see if he were able to replicate your vision. Alas it was not as easy as that. Whatever Venti did after that, not even Celestia knows.
Your ability to see the streams of music instead of just projecting associated shapes and colors had made it easy to find Venti, and vice versa.
When he wants to find you specifically, Venti sings your name in a lilting melody as he walks through the stone streets of Mondstadt, the blazing color pouring through your window as you crane your head out and look him down from the second floor.
Venti's invisible aura brightens at the sight of you and he presents the fresh Cecilias in his hand, singing for you to accompany him to another day and you're forced to do so with his cheesiness.
He continues to sing even as you resign to your home to prepare. Unbeknownst to you the people of Mond watched with wonder and awe at the sweetness of the serenading bard that comes by every 9 AM daily to your doorstep.
Nature rarer uses yellow
Than another hue;
Saves she all of that for sunsets, —
Prodigal of blue,
Spending scarlet like a woman,
Yellow she affords
Only scantly and selectly,
Like a lover's words.
You tilt your head at Venti at his lyrics, its lines influencing the color that coats him before his lyre finally calms its strings. He does not expand on his words as the silent conversation ended with a smile. Venti had been making songs with colors incorporated in them and despite the Muse of hues, you have yet to understand what they truly mean. If they mean anything at all.
You wish you could bring about the same flowery words to describe how beautiful Venti is, your current muse, adorned with the colors of a world only you can see. But for now, as you watch him smile past the crowd and lock eyes with yours, the most you can do is immortalize his ethereal hues. Until you finally work up the courage to admit it was not the colors that had drawn you to him.
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This is a blessed day as it marks the end of the 50 followers event, and start the 100 followers one! Thank you for joining us in this journey, we still have a long way to go!
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yongiefilms · 4 years ago
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FILM | Together Alone
BASED ON | The NCT secret santa collaboration feature done by bumblebeenct and lucaswithnoshirt studios over @neoculturechristmas�� headquarters 
DEDICATED TO | My own precious secret santa, @sly-merlin​! This one is for you my love. I hope I did you justice for the type of fic you requested and I hope you like it! By the way I apologize for getting your present to you late.
STARRING | Huang Renjun and Female Reader
FEATURING | Lee Donghyuck 
GENRE | Romance, Drama, Angst, Fluff, Business centred, and Holiday centred
RATING | PG-13
WARNINGS | Thematic elements, suggestive references and implications, crude humor, language, mentions of death, a deceased parent, drinking, alcohol, and other adult themes
PLOT | Everyone knew him. The heir to the multimillion dollar company. Next in line to inherit the top pharmaceutical business in all of China and South Korea. For being only 20 years old he was the most accomplished person of his age. Set to become the CEO at age 21 on his birthday, nearly a few months away, there was nothing that could deter him down the road for further success. They say he’s envied by most, yet loved all the same. If only people knew who Huang Renjun really was without his family’s name plastered against the walls of society that gave him fame and fortune. Only one would have the chance to find out the truth of his reality and sometimes when that comes near the end of a year shutting close, not everything can end pleasant like one hoped. OR Happy endings might not exist in this messed up world.
RUNNING TIME | 6.4k
DIRECTOR’S NOTE | Happy Holidays, my loves! This work is in honor of you all and the amazing year you all gave me with your immense love as well as support. I appreciate every single one of you more than you will ever know so I wish happy days among you this season and new year. I love you and please enjoy! Also, shout out to my lovely proofreader, @dvrlingrenjun​, you’re the best.
1, 2, 3 Now Rolling...
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“Fuck them all!” Huang Renjun yells out in frustration, leaning back abruptly in his black cushioned chair, his hands clutching tightly at his dark strands of hair.
The younger boy smirks at him, leaning against the pillar by his office. “Wouldn’t you like that?”
A glare was sent in his direction in retaliation. “Shut up, Donghyuck.”
“Sure, big guy,” he dismisses, the jab made at the older visible with the way his words cut through the air. “Still doesn’t render the fact that you have to go to this event like you always do.”
Renjun groans, his right hand going around his left wrist to play with the gold Cartier bracelet that rested there. A gift given to him when he turned the legal age of eighteen a few years ago. A gift given to him by his father, on behalf of his mother or so it was said. One that was a promise of luxury and achievement if he continued down the path they set out for him. His decision then when he was an adult to decide his fate, but that was only a lie. The bracelet was only a bribe for a materialistic life where he could be well off and if he stepped away then he would be stripped of everything that made him who he was. 
“I know, okay? We do it every year but that still doesn't take away from the fact that I hate it. I hate all of it.”
Perhaps his father was a part of that.
“Well,” Donghyuck drawls, shrugging his shoulders when he lifts his body off the pillar to take long strides in order to reach the other boy. “At least it’s out of town this year so I’m down...I mean free vacation.” He gives a toothy grin, his eyes sparkling of juvenescence and a thrill for adventure, mystery, excitement. At least one of them still had a childlike soul and a more or less normal life while the other was forced to grow up too fast in the spotlight where eyes were scrutinizing his every move before he could even walk.
They called it maturity, but Renjun calls it loss of youth. 
“You’re such a freeloader,” Renjun mutters, his hands stopping from playing with the bracelet to glance up in exasperation.
“Says the boy inheriting an almost billion dollar company without batting an eye,” Donghyuck snorts with an eye roll, picking at his nails that now gained all of his attentiveness.
It was true after all.
Renjun laughs in mockery. “You’re just jealous, so I wouldn’t be talking if I were you.”
Donghyuck sighs loudly for effect. “Cous, I wouldn’t want your life even if I tried. Some horrifying shit.” He shakes his head, obviously disturbed by the notion.
Renjun’s voice becomes small, yet firm. “It isn’t that bad...”
Donghyuck finally stops twiddling with his fingers to give the other the time of day with a look of obvious reluctance. “Uncle is scary, can you blame me?”
“Guess not, that man is my father.”
“Exactly and as much as I would love to continue this conversation,” Donghyuck glances at his crisp navy steel Bulgari watch, seeing the time half past noon. “I got to run, meeting with the boys soon and I just needed to deliver the message before that. Little pit stop if you will.” His hands flair out in a theatrical motion as if he were giving a bow.
“Oh?” Renjun raises an eyebrow, hands reaching out to get started on the stack of papers placed at the edge of his desk by his receptionist before Donghyuck’s surprised arrival. “Say hi to them for me.” He pauses in afterthought, knowing the younger’s antics. “Or not.”
Donghyuck’s boisterous laugh rings. He knew him so well. “Very funny, but oh, wait!” 
The increase in his tone attracts the older’s regard who was beginning to read through the proposal. “Yes?”
“Here,” Donghyuck states, reaching into the back pocket of his chinos to pull out a small black velvet box with gold edging. “An early present of sorts. I assumed you might like it.” He slides the box over on the desk where it is caught in the grasp of delicate hands.
“Proposing are we? You know we are related right?” Renjun smiles snidely, running his fingers over the soft velvet in wonder. It was rare to get a gift from Lee Donghyuck himself and with the right intentions at that. 
“It would be an honor and privilege to marry me, thank you, but no it’s just...open it when I leave. I’m not into that sappy shit as you know. I have a matching one too, but yeah merry early Christmas and New Years.” His easy grin widens as he winks to take backward steps to the exit of the office. Always one for a dramatic flare.
“Matching...we can’t be a couple either, Hyuck,” Renjun says, shaking his head while he puts the box down on his desk in wait.
Donghyuck flips him off and grits out a reply. “Shut up and be grateful for once.”
Turning his head back to his papers, he mutters, “Oh, I am.”
“Anyways, bye you fucker. Don’t drown in work,” Donghyuck lets out once he turns his back.
“Thank you for caring, delivery boy,” Renjun shouts as his cousin finally opens the door to exit after his much longer than anticipated stay.
Donghyuck’s hands still on the silver knob before he can fully push the door. “When don’t I? If you’re gone then that means I would have to inherit the company and as much as I would love the money, the fame, the attention, maybe even the girls...I don’t want that responsibility. You get me?”
Renjun rolls his eyes, spinning the black ballpoint pen between his index and ring finger. “Just say you’re lazy and go.”
“I am going!” Donghyuck exclaims while he turns his head over his shoulder, shooting the boy sitting at the desk that didn’t quite fit him well, another wink. “Bye for real, Junnie!”
The door at last closes and he is gone in a blur of colors.
Renjun mumbles under his breath. “I told you not to call me that.” 
His mother used to call him that and she didn’t have the chance to stay long in this world. Taken too soon is what they say, but maybe she was blessed before everything turned to stone. 
With Donghyuck’s departure, Renjun looks over at the lone box that was gifted to him, perhaps not a gift like the others that held no meaning, for this one was an outlier in the equation. Donghyuck never gave without meaning or gain so it had to be special.
He places his pen down and picks up the box, undoing the clasp that held it close. The box opens to a sight he has gotten used to, yet there was a disparity. In between the cushion of the velvet laid a beautiful silver Chopard ring. The band was simple in design, yet intricate with the signature ice cubes filled with small sparkling diamonds across the entire width. Renjun handles the ring with care once it is taken out of the box to inspect every detail. Not only was the brand engraved in stunning cursive on the inside, but Donghyuck had gotten the ring customized with the word family in the same writing on the opposite side of the inner circle. 
Renjun runs his fingers over the engraving, the words rough under his calloused hands. He hums in thought as he slips the ring on his middle finger, the radiance seeping in from the windows catching the precious metal. “Family...family...I haven’t had one in a long time.”
The truth is he had, has, but he was too blind to see. 
Family is not just those that are immediate, composing of a father and mother or even siblings. Family can also entail the greater extent from cousins to aunts to grandparents. Family can even be those that are not blood related like the friends a person surrounds themselves by. 
Renjun has family. If only he could acknowledge them before they too left him utterly alone. 
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Alone was something Renjun was not for the days to come. 
A week later after his cousin delivered the news about the annual holiday vacation and company sponsored events that his family has been hosting since his late teen years, he was flown in a private plane against his will to a remote town near Busan, far off from the heart of Seoul. He would rather spend the holidays in the city where he grew up like all those past seasons ago, but his father decided there was a need for change, a mirror of one forthcoming in virtually three months. Usually those that made the trip came for the designated three days they were given which still involved work communications with scant room for relaxation depending on the schedules of selected individuals. However, if one was a Huang, which Renjun was the only one left along with his father that were at least part of the business, then departure and stay differed. Intermingled was the Huang winter vacation with that of business affairs, a factor that was born when the tradition started. His father always said to kill two birds with one stone when given the chance and this very situation was one he took hold of to morph into a personal gain. 
Nothing was ever as it seemed with his father, nor himself. One characteristic they shared among a hundred to a thousand polarities.
Albeit this time around, Renjun had fought against his father’s wants, which was not the first instance, but was one that ended in surprising success. Success he tasted on the daily, even if all was bitter with no room for happiness. However, this success was sweet with contentment, ending with an awfully horrid aftertaste. Convincing his father to fly him out along with the others on the 23rd of December instead of the 20th was a victory no less. At least he didn’t have to spend unwanted days in the presence of his old man longer than necessary. 
He arrives in wealth and social standing like he always did for once his black A.Testoni dress shoes hit the white tiled floor of the airport’s general aviation ramp building, everyone within his general vicinity, even those afar, are taking heed to his every need, that as of now are limited. 
A slightly older woman who he deems as his assistant, comes into view, her black Prada heels clicking loudly against the tile as she advances with a clipboard and her trusty cell in her hands to the boy. She cheerful speaks into the empty building, her smile unwavering. “Mr. Huang, I am glad you had a safe flight. I printed your itinerary for the next couple of days that I will hand to you once we are in the limo. Considering it is…” She glances at her Apple Watch Series 6 to check the time. “Two forty three as of now, we can drop off your luggage at the Lodge and get you settled into your room before your three fifteen lunch with Mr. Kim and his wife at the Yongsusan Café. You will be with them for an hour before the rest of the afternoon is yours to spend productively. Then at six o’clock the maids and stylists will come by to get you ready for the business meeting at seven thirty, following with a small dinner party with those same individuals, including their wives and children. Sounds good?”
Renjun does not even have time to reply before his assistant speaks again. 
“Yes, okay! Let’s get going then.” She turns on her heel abruptly, yet with expertise without room for error and begins taking steps away from the plane to the left. “The limo should be this way, follow me while your luggage gets loaded. The drive should not take more than ten minutes.” 
He has no choice but to accompany her as he would not be able to make a run for it, he will be caught within seconds. He tried once and that was only one failure amongst little to none in his book. 
His strides are slow and lousy as if he had all the time in the world to do as he pleased, when he in fact did not, far from it in actuality. Even so before he knows it he reaches the limo and is lurched forward in motion towards his destination for the next few days. The place his dad selected oozes with sumptuous intent, being a gorgeous mid-century modern wooden lodge that nearly looked like a manor upon inspection. As the limo pulls up to the front, Renjun is able to see the beauty up close that he is entranced by even if he seems unfazed. New places and people excite him more than he lets on for his life is dull, lacking fulfillment of an unknown tomorrow. 
The porter, who is situated in patience by the front doors, strides forward to open the door of the limo, permitting Renjun to step out with the authority and grace bestowed upon him. 
When he crosses the threshold into the Lodge he is met with an even better interior that rivaled that on the outside, but he is not allowed to ponder too much on the design before the head manager greets him.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Huang, it is certainly a pleasure for you to stay with us at the Lodge this fine holiday season. I am Gwan Jang-Mi and I will be showing you to your room today along with giving you a small tour of this place in order to familiarize yourself with the setting. If you look here to your left…”
Her speech is drowned out into obscurity as Renjun’s awareness shifts to another woman, one so stunning that he is surprised he did not take notice sooner. When sauntering through the entryway into the resting room that will be cleared out in the next couple of hours, a bar is situated to the left where you stand, arranging countless bottles of liquor to wine on the counter, no doubt for the little party later or for the meeting. Those men were heavy drinkers and needed alcohol to make it through the rest of the evening. Renjun did drink to drown his sorrows, worry, and anxiousness away, but he was not one to throw himself down a spiraling hole of darkness nor chaos that he could not get out of, for those consequences were ones he did not want to reap.
The soft sunlight peaks through the high guarded windows, shining down on your face that enunciates your features. For simply being in a black polo and khaki pants, you made it work and drew all attention to yourself without even knowing the power you held. 
The moment of admiration comes to a close when Renjun is ushered away from the ground floor to make way to his room in the upper levels, leaving you behind.
Yet that would not be the last time.
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Time goes by slowly when there is no purpose, no meaning to the daily workings of one person in the masses of others. Renjun has experience in that regard, time always goes by slowly for him and exhausts him a great deal like a rotary clock that seeks no end. 
He was worn out by the time he got back to the Lodge in the early evening due to the stay with the Kims went longer than necessary and he was called elsewhere upon emergency to discuss future matters. He did not have time for himself like his assistant had plainly made known so there he was, collapsed head first into his silk covers, ten minutes to six. 
Instead of taking a long awaited nap he is ushered up and into more formal wear after a cleanse from the bustle of bodies that barge into his room. 
No privacy. No sense of normality. 
That is the normal. 
The next few hours go by in blur from him sitting in front of a mirror to have his hair styled to sitting in front of burly old men that were associates and inventors of the company in a grad meeting room with locked doors and the finest assortment of liquor that money can buy. 
He is out of the confines in no time, not even bothering to say one final hurrah before he lurches himself out the door and into the now cleared out resting room. One of the servers comes by then dressed in all black attire that was nothing of the typical black and white uniform, edging towards a usual guest. Renjun snatches a glass of sparkling champagne and gulps it down in one go off their silver platter, discreetly of course, for he has to look composed—sober throughout the entire affair. He always could hold his alcohol without a problem and he felt blessed to have that advantage. One thing he is proud of. 
He is whisked away not even moments after by one of the older investors, Mr. Han, to moreover chew over the end of the year budget and his stance on future decisions to be made in the new year. From the corner of his eye while listening to the man talk in a flamboyant manner, he sees his father standing with a glass of white wine happily talking to another investor, a more influential one, the most influential one of them all and his wife along with their daughter who was not even carefully surveying the room in search of someone.
Renjun’s eyes widen in shock, mumbling under his breath, “Shit.”
Mr. Han stops the flow of words out his mouth, his eyebrows rumpling together. He did not hear the swear word the boy uttered, yet he heard something in passing. “Pardon?”
Renjun shakes his head vaguely, bringing his third glass of champagne in the air as a sign of departure. “Ah excuse me, Mr. Han, but it seems I have been beckoned elsewhere.” His eyes shift over to his father who was not making direct eye contact with him, but Mr. Han did not need to know that little detail as he observes Renjun’s line of sight. 
Mr. Han chuckles brightly. “I see, well I must not keep you from your father.”
Renjun smiles. “No, you must not, but we shall continue this conversation later, Mr. Han. I am sure you have much more to say and I will happily discuss further with you.”
Mr. Han waves his hand in the air nonchalantly. “We shall. Now off you go.” 
Renjun nods his head, his lips still quirked up in a smile, this one more genuine than the last, as he makes a beeline towards his father to make everything seem more believable. Though once he no longer feels the eyes of Mr. Han on his retreating back he switches routes, going to the left rather than straight ahead. He circles around the opposite side, catching a stark mop of washed out red hair amongst the crowd in the process—Donghyuck. His cousin is not alone, however, talking rather freely with a girl he could not quite see in his peripheral vision. The grin on Donghyuck’s face is undeniable even with his back turned and the way Renjun hears the tiny giggles you are emitting, all is too familiar, which is the perfect cause for a disruption.
Renjun does not acknowledge his cousin when he arrives at the bar, the younger boy too immersed in conversation so he signals for the other worker that comes becking to his call. 
“A Negroni, on the rocks.”
The girl nods in understanding and turns to prepare the drink while Donghyuck still has not noticed his presence. The younger boy always did focus on what was in front of him rather than on his surroundings, contrary to his cousin that saw the whole picture. Two contrasting people surely with unlike futures ahead of them. 
The frosted glass with the reddish-orange liquid and topped with orange shavings is served to him a minute later, placed in front of him on a matching glass coaster.
He clears his throat loudly in an attempt to catch Donghyuck’s attention. “Thank you.” 
A method that proves effective since the younger boy finally turns his head to the right to see Renjun sitting on the barstool next to him, sipping casually on his high class Negroni. 
His eyes are wide, but he masks his shock with a subtle smirk. “Jun! Well, well, if it isn’t the mini man himself. How long have you been sitting there?” 
Renjun snorts into his glass, shaking his head at the dig Donghyuck made at his height, always one out for blood. “Far too long to have noticed your flirting from across the room, Hyuck.” It is now his turn to smirk, but Donghyuck’s own is still unfaltering.
“I take pride in my skills, glad you gave your time of day to notice.” He elevates his glass up then, filled most likely with a Nicolashka, his favorite holiday drink to date, and takes a sip himself, a move Renjun mimics.
Then your voice interrupts. “Sorry to cut in, but I have to get back to work. You’ve been distracting me for the last ten minutes, mister.” Your stern gaze is directed at Donghyuck from the latter statement. Although once your words are uttered, Renjun focuses his eyes on you, scrutinizing your appearance. The very girl he saw earlier today, the girl Donghyuck so happened to have a chance with before him—you.
Donghyuck laughs, the smirk morphing into a shiteating grin. “I told you, call me Hyuck.”
“Well, Hyuck, I have to get back to work...plus I am sure you want to talk to your friend.” Your gaze flickers to Renjun in that instance and lingers there longer than necessary that has him laughing to himself. 
Donghyuck’s charm only goes so far. 
The younger boy peers at Renjun when you utter out friend, and he smiles small in remorse. “Sadly, but do not let me keep you from your work.”
You turn your back on him, your eyes catching Renjun’s in the process before you look away from the intensity of the dark orbs. “I wasn’t planning on it.” 
You leave the bar area then most likely to put on an apron that Renjun noticed you had not worn throughout the entire duration. Donghyuck simply distracted you before the start of your shift and after, not a good trait to inherit. 
Donghyuck hums, but let’s the remark go as he fully turns to Renjun to start up that conversation. 
He raises an eyebrow. “Must you always keep me from having fun?” 
Renjun shrugs his shoulders, swishing the liquid in his glass. “Not always, but I was saving that girl from misery. You should be thankful that I care enough.” 
Donghyuck taunts. “Oh wow I feel so special.”
Renjun sternly eyes him, his voice lowering. “You should.”
Donghyuck’s lips open to retort a response, but no words are spoken on his end for his eyes look over the older boy’s shoulders and he catches sight of someone none of them truly like or have liked after the incident. He sees her.
“Well fuck, here comes the devil,” is all he makes out and the phrase enough has Renjun turning his own head hastily to see who he was watching. Such is when he sees his ex-girlfriend, Cha Yeona, prowling straight towards their way.
“I’m going to go...so good luck, mate. You’ll need it.” Donghyuck pats Renjun’s shoulder in departure and his gesture of sympathy, leaving him in the wake of a girl he really did not wish to see or converse with. 
Once he leaves the bar in quick speed, you come in at that exact moment, your eyes zoning in on the way Yeona’s dainty hand latches onto Renjun’s forearm in greeting. You turn away from the image, busying yourself with wiping down the glasses. 
“Oh! What a lovely surprise,” Yeona voices, letting her hand maneuver down to place on top of Renjun’s hand in which she gives him a faint squeeze thereof. He flinches from the contact, retracting his hand to slip into the pocket of his Burberry blazer while the other rims his glass. 
He peers at her intently, a potency that has her giggling nervously. His looks could kill whenever he was serious with a blank face and austere hollows of eyes. “Hello, Yeona.”
She sits down gracefully on the stool next to him, crossing her long unblemished legs over each other, her hands placed in her lap. Her smile is bright and makes him want to pull out his hair. She was always two-faced. “Hi Jun Jun! How have you been?”
He lets the pet name go, but does not glance at her again, looking over her head at the white lights strung outside. “Good.”
Silence engulfs them that has her fidgeting out of discomfort. He evidently did not want to talk. She reaches her hand out to touch him once more that has him leaning away. She sighs in defeat, retreating from the gesture. She would have to reach him some other way. “Well...I—”
He cuts her off from continuing, drowning the last contents of his drink before he pushes the glass away towards the server at the end of the counter. He puts a hand up. “Save it. I have no reason to talk to you again. Leave.” 
He arches his eyebrow when he sees she makes no move to leave and he chuckles darkly. “Do I have to tell you again? Or should I have security escort you out?”
She flinches from the tone of his voice and gulps, her throat becoming exceptionally dry. She hurriedly stands up, almost ripping over her heels and departs without a goodbye, not that he wished to get one from her. Her slim body covered in a blood red dress slips into the crowd and Renjun finally releases the breath he was holding. 
He tugs at the strands of his gelled back hair. “Fucking bitch,” he mutters, lifting a finger in the air to signal for another drink that the server speedily moves to make. 
“A little harsh, don’t you think?”
Renjun lifts his eyes to see you gaping at him, an eyebrow uplifted in fascination as you finally were in your uniform, a white cloth draped over your shoulders. Renjun runs his hand through his hair and scoffs from the remark thereafter. He was sure the stylists would be upset to see him dishevel their mighty work, but he could care less.
He shakes his head, the strands of hair rustling. “No, I think not. She deserves it.”
“Wow. Again, harsh.” You laugh mockingly and grab his drink that was slid over by your coworker to clean the glass again. You place the beverage down on the coaster which he takes with pleasure, muttering a small thank you that you can barely hear amidst the classical music playing in the background. Your hands make contact for a split second that has tingles erupting on your end, in a rather cliche response, yet he made no move of the feeling. 
There is quietness again that makes you flustered since you were never one to enjoy the muted scenery, always wanting a sound ringing in your ears. While Renjun enjoyed the still, always wanting a sound that faded in the wind and never made a comeback appearance. 
In a desperate attempt to keep conversation while making yourself busy by fixing up the bottles of alcohol, you propose a question that invades his privacy, whilst he never had privacy to begin with, a factor you were left in the dark about.
“So...um...your girlfriend?” You ask, in regards to Yeona that left some minutes ago. 
Renjun snorts, placing down his glass and interlocks his hand to rest his chin on, a move to focus solely on you. “Right. She’s my ex-girlfriend actually so you’re not entirely wrong.”
You mumble out a quiet, “Oh.” It was not your business to know his affairs after all, yet there was a voice nagging within that made you curious to find out every part of him.
The tranquility hugs the both of you once more, until he questions you out of the blue. 
“You want to get out of here?”
To say you are shocked is an understatement, since you are in fact bamboozled beyond belief. He says the declaration with so much firmness and certainty, it has your heart twisting on the inside.
You lightly laugh to mask the shock and turn around to really look at him, a look that he reciprocates. “I don’t even know you.”
A keen smile is visible on his lips. “Exactly the point. You have nothing to lose.”
You shake your head, leaning against the counter of the bar to stare into his eyes that look so lifeless, yet beautiful. “Maybe, but this is my job. I can’t just bail.” 
He leans his head closer to you, an act that allows you to a whiff of the Christian Dior Ambre Nuit cologne he wears and his minty fresh breath. “Of course you can.” His soothing voice turns teasing as he smirks. “Don’t worry I won’t tell.” 
You scoff to yourself, surprised by his mannerisms of outforwardness. You look around then to see if anyone is watching the two of you, but all eyes are elsewhere and you let out a sigh of relief. Another girl comes into the bar when you glance to the side, most likely to cover the next shift that was not yours quite yet, be that as it may you did have a break coming up. 
Renjun outstretches his hand in patience, his smirk slowly growing, even if it was borderlining a smile that you could see right through. He hums in anticipation and you give in.
“Okay fine, but not for too long,” you say as you rest your hand in his. The cold of your fingers meet his warm ones and you latch on for dear life, afraid to let go. 
He grins at you and squeezes your hand. “No promises.” 
Then he proceeds to drag you out of the bar, tugging you to who knows where. The tingle of a secret keeps you on your toes and you become giddy, laughing along the halls as he steers you left, right, straight, left, right, up...a never ending cycle of adventure.
“Where exactly are you taking me?” You ask after gaining the courage. He is intimidating in some regards, the thought of how he acted towards his ex-girlfriend as visible as day in your mind.
He shrugs, finally slowing down. “Who knows. Could be outside in the cold or near a fireplace in the warm. You will just have to see.”
“That certainly gives me no direction at all.”
He turns his head to look at you and stops suddenly, having you nearly crash into his back before he tugs you to the other side. He chuckles when he sees your horrified face from almost busting your nose. “That was the point, darling.”
You huff in annoyance when he continues walking, the pressure of his fingers around your own feels heavier as time drags on and your heart has no sense of calm, constricting with the name of endearment that slipped past his slim lips.
“Okay, we are here!” He announces and lets go of your hand, the bareness of his heat leaving you shivering. You take a step back from planting your feet firmly on the floor and glance around the room in which he stopped. It was one of the upper level rooms with strict access only to the most wealthy of the associates and investors. His family must be one of those highly regarded, if only you knew how highly regarded his family is, being the ones with the most status, the most affluent lifestyle. However, you would remain clueless.
“Oh, wow. The view up here is amazing.”
Renjun laughs, placing his hands in the front pocket of his slacks as he strolls around the room, glancing at the glowing fire that was left on and the books that were sealed shut. “Trust me, I am well aware. Why do you think I brought you up here?” He gives you an exasperated stare, peering past at the giant window you stood in front of that showcased the whole town, now covered in sleek white snow. It must have snowed while he was conversing with others at the party for when he arrived at the meeting hours ago, the land was void.
The white flakes are still falling outside, delicately covering everything in one uniform color that leaves you in awe and he is left admiring you, how at peace you are. How free you look, an emotion he never held onto in his entire life.
“So besides admiring this view, what are we doing up here?” You ask, your fingertips grazing the cool frosted glass of the window, seeing beyond to the endless landscape and twinkling stars along with lights of the houses nearby.
Renjun answers bluntly. “Admiring the view.”
You can’t stop the titters from escaping you and you roll your eyes, an action he sees through the reflection.
He steps forward, coming up besides your figure to look more clearly at the breathtaking scenery of a winter wonderland. “No, I’m joking...at least partially.” 
You giggle some more, interlocking your hands in front of you. “I didn’t know you had it in you to joke.”
It is now his turn to laugh. “Darling, I have a lot in me that you don’t know.”
You sigh solemnly, taking a step back to turn around, examining the other objects around the room. “Oh, I’m sure.” 
He is an enigma waiting to be unraveled, but you would not be the one to solve his case and that alone is an idea that scares you. 
Before you can get farther away, his hand wraps around your wrist, preventing you from escape. You peer down at his hand then up to his eyes, your eyebrows scrunching together in perplexity.
He does not speak, only drags you into him to where you are now chest to chest, only an inch of distance between your bodies. The closeness between the two of you leaves you breathless and gasping for air. His thumb carrasses your arm and runs down to the palm of your hand, enveloping his fingers around your skin. Your eyes are trailing the movements and you take a sharp intake of breath, curious as to what can happen next. He hooks his other free index finger under your chin to lift your face up so he can see you in distinct luminosity.
You have gazed at his eyes practically all evening, but nothing has prepared you for seeing him up close. He is even more handsome in full definition from the lines on his soft pink lips to his perfectly tousled hair. 
“You’re beautiful,” he mutters, his thumb running along your cupid’s bow. “Absolutely and breathtakingly beautiful.”
You gulp, the words drying up in your throat for what could you say to his compliment?
Then everything happens at once.
His hand moves to wrap around the back of your head and he tugs you closer by the other until you are pressed up against each other. He lightly pushes your head forward and contact is made. 
Lips against lips. Moving and moving against each other, taking all your breath away for the second time within a span of a few seconds. 
He lets go of holding your hand and wraps his arm around your waist, to pull you closer if such is even possible. To make the contact more tender and desirable.
You suppose desire is that which allows the moment to escalate further. From a mere innocent kiss to a fiery passion of craving for more. 
When your lips separate, he does not think twice before grabbing your hand once more and dragging you down the long corridor to arrive at his secluded room around the corner.
He opens the door with haste as you come tumbling in after him, grabbing, pulling, tugging until all that is left is just you and him.
The frantic beats of two hearts. 
The heat of skin pressed against skin. 
Simply two bodies that became one all due to the desire floating around the room and pushing you to the limit. 
You lost yourself in him that night and he in you. 
Lost to the pure ecstasy of pleasure during the season of joy and love.
Yet the season could also be one for giving and taking.
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You wake to a cold bed the next morning.
Gone is the warmth of a boy who made you feel like you were on top of the world, someone special enough to demand notice and have anything that is asked for. 
Gone is the sweet nothings he whispered in your ear, the words of assurance, comfort, and false love that made you feel worth it and simply protected.
Gone is the long lingering touches of his fingers pressing into you and dancing along the lines of your body to explore and learn.
Gone is the feeling of his lips on your skin that was enough to ignite you ablaze and leave you seeing all the colors of the rainbow.
Gone is he—Huang Renjun. 
All that remains of the remembrance from the night is the note he left by the oak bedside table, one that crushed the dream of longing and hope within. One that slapped you with the crude reality of who he truly was, is, in a place that you did not belong to and never would. 
Thanks for last night, but it’s a one time thing. You can see yourself out. Happy holidays.
He signed the note with his initials, H.R. and his family’s embroidered seal. 
Then you realize in that moment, your bare body covered in his silk covers in the large suite he had all to himself, that the holidays are not for everyone. 
You can either be together with someone else or alone by yourself. 
Never the two. 
Always one or the other. 
You had hoped to be together yet alone with him in privacy to make your own memories away from prying eyes, but at the end of the day you were by yourself and he was too.
That is how life works in this sick, twisted world.
Men against men. Women against women. Everyone against everyone.
Alone.
Never together. 
Like he and you.
145 notes · View notes
dakotacrisis · 4 years ago
Text
Cherry Blossoms
Coping with my mental health dip by writing something gay for my comfort pairing.
Marigami Hanahaki Disease AU because it is June and I just need some slightly angsty hurt/comfort goodness rn.
Read on AO3
---
Spring was such a beautiful time of year. Probably Kagami’s favorite. All the snow melted and the cold went away and the world slowly started to come back to life. She loved spring in Japan. The whole town would be covered in beautiful pink cherry blossoms. Such a soft and comforting color. There was a reason it was used so much in shows when a character fell in love or started catching feelings for someone.
Kagami had gone most of her life without meeting anyway who made her world pink like in the shows. She was focused on her fencing and her school work. Love just wasn’t in the cards for her it seemed. Maybe when she attended university that would change but so far she was sixteen years old and still had yet to feel even a twinge of that warmth and flutter that seeing the cherry petals back home did.
That was until she moved to France with her mother. She met a boy who was nice and sweet and for the first time she thought that maybe love wasn’t pink and fluttery. Maybe love was golden and flowing, like a beam of sunlight touching the earth. That’s what being around this boy felt like. Adrien Agreste was his name. A nice boy with a nice face and a nice personality. He had friends that she got to meet that came with their own vivid colors. Soothing blue, fiery orange, mysterious indigo, calculating green, and bold red. They were all swell and Kagami liked spending time with them.
Kagami tried to make herself like Adrien more than she did. She wanted to like him so badly. She wanted to feel something more when she was with him. She really did. But that all went out the door one afternoon.
She was sitting with her new friends at a spot on a bridge, eating ice cream and people watching when someone’s phone beeped.
“That’s me,” Alya handed her ice cream to Kagami, “Can you hold that for a second? Thanks.” Kagami took the ice cream without question and watched as Alya’s face split into the biggest grin Kagami had ever seen. “No way! No way! No way!”
“What’s going on?” Nino, Alya’s boyfriend, asked.
“Guess who got home early from her visit to Shanghai?” Alya announced to the group.
The group immediately perked up and began talking excitedly. Now this was new. Who could they possibly be talking about? Kagami had heard nothing about anyone being in Shanghai.
“Is she coming out?” Adrien asked, “It feels like she’s been gone forever.”
“I just texted her our location, she’ll be here in a few minutes!” Alya bounced happily in her seat. “I cannot wait to see her again! It has been way too long!”
“Who are we talking about?” Kagami asked.
“Our friend, Marinette,” Adrien explained, “She spent the last couple months interning at her cousin’s fashion company in Shanghai.”
“We were expecting her home some time next month but apparently she was really missing home and all of us so she decided to come back early. This is so great that you finally get to meet her!” Alya said.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you mention a Marinette before. How come?” Kagami was a very good listener and she would have remembered someone bringing up a long-distance friend.
“Cause once we start talking about her we start missing her and then next thing you know we’re all over at her parent’s bakery eating our sorrows away.” Rose sighed, “She is probably the sweetest person ever so her absence these past couple of months have just been torture. Like a huge part of our lives has been missing.”
Wow. This Marinette was certainly getting built up to be larger than life. Kagami could only imagine what she was like in person. She stewed in her thoughts, listening to everyone’s chatter as she tried to picture what this Marinette girl would look like.
“There she is!” Alya bolted from her seat and ran down street to tackle a girl in a hug. Soon the others had followed suit and clamped onto the girl, effectively blocking her from Kagami’s view. They moved in a massive huddle back towards the benches they were occupying with all the excited squeeing and a bombardment of questions.
“We missed you so much!” she heard Mylene say, “And we have someone new to introduce you to. This is Kagami, a friend we made while you were in Shanghai.”
The crowd parted and Kagami’s world exploded into pink. Every shade of the rosy hue danced before her eyes as she gazed upon a petite Asian looking girl with shoulder length black hair, bright blue eyes, and wearing a simple pink sundress printed with butterflies. Her stomach started to flutter as if the butterflies on the girl’s dress had flown down her throat directly.
“Hello,” Marinette’s voice was like a sweet song that enraptured Kagami’s remaining senses, “It’s nice to meet you, Kagami. My name is Marinette.”
“You too,” Kagami muttered, unable to clear the tickle in her throat, “Nice to meet you too.”
Marinette nodded and was swept back into the conversation with her friends as they asked her what her stay in Shanghai was like. Kagami sat frozen on the bench as the swaths of pink cleared from her gaze. What had that been? In one instant she had been rendered completely dumbstruck by a girl she had just met. Was it because she was cute? Because she was. Marinette was a very pretty girl. Kagami understood what the others meant about a void in their lives with her absence. The girl positively radiated warmth and kindness out of her every pore. The days must seem dreary indeed without her around if this was Kagami’s initial reaction to meeting her.
The evening continued on as everyone caught up with Marinette. Kagami sat off to the sidelines not wanting to intrude on their time. It had been several months since they had seen her after all. Kagami wished that she had something to say to Marinette. But what was there? She didn’t know this girl from Eve. All she knew was that she simultaneously wanted to never be parted from her yet far away from her at the same time. She craved her attention but almost felt unworthy to be near her at the same time. It was a feeling Kagami was not used to.
Soon it was time for everyone to head home. Adrien offered Kagami a ride back to her house and they got into the car together. “So, what did you think of Marinette? You didn’t really talk to her much I noticed.”
“She’s…” Wonderful. Beautiful. Effervescent. An brilliant white swan among honking muddy geese. “She’s nice. I didn’t want to intrude while you all were catching up with her though.”
“I think you two would get along great. Next time we go out you should talk to her. We can even stop by her parent’s bakery tomorrow. I don’t think we’ve ever taken you before.”
“Bakery?”
“Yeah, the Dupain-Cheng Bakery near my school. It’s a great place to get pastries but it is too tempting to be good for your waist line if you know what I mean. Also, with Marinette gone it just bummed everyone out going in and knowing she wasn’t there. That’ll probably change now that she’s home though.”
They pulled up to Kagami’s house. She got out and wandered inside in a daze. She mindlessly kicked off her shoes at the door and went to her room to think over the evening. When she laid down for bed flashes of pink returned, surrounding a brilliant white smile and soft bluebell eyes.
The next day proved no better for her sudden predicament when Adrien dragged Kagami to the Dupain-Cheng Bakery for the first time. The entire bakery felt like an extension of Marinette. Sweetness and cheer filling every corner and when Marinette popped up behind the register in a cute apron and a handkerchief holding her hair back out of her face Kagami saw that same flurry of pink she had the day before.
“They got you working already?” Adrien joked with her. “You would think they’d give you a day off since you just got home.”
“You really think that? This is one of our busiest times of the year.” Marinette rolled her eyes, “I’d be more concerned if they didn’t drag me down here to help. Speaking of which, what can I get for you two today?”
“What do you recommend?”
“Well, with it being spring time we do have these new cherry love letters.” she pulled a tray of pastries out from the case. It was dough that had been folded to look like a letter with cherry filling stuffed inside and sealed with a little icing heart. “They’ve been going fast so if you want some you’d better grab one now.”
“Sounds delicious, we’ll take two.” Adrien said, clapping his hands together, “Kagami loves cherry desserts, isn’t that right?”
“Yeah…” Kagami mumbled. That tickle in her throat was back.
“A girl after my own heart, personally I like strawberries better but cherries are a very close second.” Marinette packed two of the love letters into a small pink box and handed it to Adrien. “You two have fun and come back again soon.”
“When does your shift end? Maybe we could hang out after.” Adrien suggested.
“I can’t really, I still have a ton of unpacking to do once I’m done helping out down here.”
“We can help you unpack.” the words flew out of Kagami’s mouth. “I mean...it would go faster with some help, wouldn’t it?”
“That’s very sweet of you, Kagami. If you two don’t mind it would be a big help and still give us the chance to hang out. I’m really interested in getting to know you a little more.” Marinette flashed her a smile that made Kagami’s knees weak.
This was ridiculous! How could one girl she barely knew have such a strong hold over her already? It was mind boggling. She practically had her own gravitational pull.
Adrien and Kagami left the bakery to walk around and eat their pastries while they waited for Marinette’s shift to end. Adrien commented on how it was so nice of Kagami to volunteer to help Marinette despite not really knowing her. Yep...just good old Kagami saying stuff before she thinks because she doesn’t know how to handle herself in front of the pretty girl that bathes her world in endless waves of sugar and pink. The cherry love letter in her hand almost seemed to mock her. Why couldn’t they have been regular turnovers? Why did they have to be called love letters of all things?
After a few hours Adrien got a text from Marinette that she was done and the two turned around to head back towards the bakery. Kagami seriously considered pretending to have a sudden appointment or practice to get out of going back which was not like her. She was Kagami Tsurugi for goodness sake! She didn’t run from a challenge! She faced all her problems head on and she did not hesitate for anything. Yet this freaking girl made her want to run and hide like a coward.
They made it back and Adrien lead them through a back door up a flight of stairs to the apartment above the bakery. Marinette greeted them just as cheerfully as she did when they walked into the bakery earlier. Kagami took a deep breath and braced herself as she entered her home. It was a fairly normal little house. Nothing too out of the ordinary. They walked up another set of stairs and through a trapdoor into what was Marinette’s room.
Kagami almost fainted. It wasn’t just that Marinette herself made everything around her look pink and sweet but that was what her entire room looked like. Everything was pink from the walls to the furniture to the wastepaper basket. At least when she was around Marinette the pink faded away into background noise after a while. Here it felt like Kagami was trapped with these weird feeling she had been experiencing since she first met the girl.
“I really appreciate you guys coming over to help, everything is a bit of a mess right now.” She sighed at the clothes tossed over the chaise and spilling out of her luggage. “Oh! Before I forget! Adrien, I got you a little souvenir while I was in Shanghai.” Marinette rifled through her luggage and pulled out a little black kitty plush with a green collar and bell. “Isn’t this just the cutest thing ever? There was a little corner shop near my cousin’s office building that sold hand made plushies and I just had to pick some up.”
“He’s adorable!” Adrien took the kitten with glee, “Thank you!”
“I figured you’d appreciate it since your dad won’t let you have an actual cat. I debated getting you a hamster one but there was only one and I’m sorry to say but I was selfish and wanted to keep her for my self.” She pulled out another plush of a tan and white hamster wearing a little red raincoat and hat. “Isn’t she just the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your life?”
“I swear I’m gonna cry,” Adrien was not joking, he looked like he was close to real tears, “She’s so cute! Look at her little raincoat!”
“I know!” Marinette turned to Kagami, “I wish I had know that you were around, Kagami, or else I would have brought you a souvenir too.”
“Oh no, that’s fine,” Kagami waved it off, “You couldn’t have known so it really doesn’t matter.”
“Wait, I have just the thing,” Marinette started throwing her clothes around as she dug through more of her luggage and making more of a mess. “Here we are! You can have this!”
“Really, you don’t need to--”
“I insist,” Marinette held up a pink butterfly barrette and clipped it into Kagami’s hair, “I got a lot of free stuff just like it while interning for my cousin. And now we match!” she clipped a similar butterfly barrette into her own hair.
Kagami mumbled her thanks and spent the rest of the afternoon in silence whilst Adrien and Marinette did most of the talking. The three of them went about unpacking and putting stuff away where Marinette told them to. Every now and again they would try to pull Kagami into their conversation but she was finding it increasingly harder to find her tongue in this scenario. At one point Adrien excused himself to use the bathroom leaving the two girls alone.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” Marinette said after Adrien had left. Kagami looked across at her in surprise. Marinette spoke so calmly with a serene and understanding smile, “I get it. My friend Nathaneal was never much of a talker either. I still got to know a lot about him though through other means. Kinda like I’m doing with you. It’s sorta like a fun little game, deciphering someone’s personality from what they do rather than what they say.”
Kagami wasn’t sure what to say so she simply nodded and let Marinette keep talking.
“Like I can tell from the way you fold stuff that you are very neat and organized. You are dressed sharply like you want to impress people but the clothes are well loved so you find them comfortable and wear them more for yourself than you do anyone else. Your hair is short and neatly trimmed meaning you probably get it cut often so it stays salon fresh but also because you can’t stand it when it touches your shoulders. You don’t like distractions or having to worry about maintaining it during long days.” Marinette listed everything off as if it was common knowledge. Kagami could only stare both impressed and a little intimidated by her spot on assessment. She got all of that just from watching her for a couple hours?
“You also hum while you work and you smiled at the silly little souvenirs I brought back.” Marinette continued, “There’s not a whole lot I can gather from that I just thought it was cute.”
“You are a very perceptive person, aren’t you?” Kagami found something to say at long last.
“I like to think so. People express who they are through every little thing that they do and I find that kind of fascinating. When you take the time to watch someone you see all these little things that build up into the person as a whole. Eventually when you look at them you don’t see their face you just see them. Like their entire personality is written into the laugh lines and freckles on their face.”
“I get what you mean.” Kagami said, easing into the conversation the more she spoke, “It’s like how I felt when I met Adrien. When we met he was just the cute blonde boy with big green eyes but as time went on he transformed into this smart yet incredibly naive, pun-spewing dork.”
“That is an accurate summation of his character. Never have I met a boy that gets such immaculate grades but will walk face first into a pole he saw coming.” the girls laughed. When Adrien came back up he asked what was so funny which just made them chuckle more. They waved him off saying it was just a little girl talk and to not worry about it. Kagami loosened up a bit more, she still didn’t talk much but she didn’t feel like fleeing in a rush of nerves either.
When everything was done Adrien and Kagami left. Marinette had given Kagami her number before they had gone and told her to text her soon. Even her little sticky notes were cute. They were shaped like cherry blossoms.
“What did I tell you?” Adrien nudged her as they left, “You and Marinette got along just fine. Then again, it’s hard not to want to be her friend, isn’t it?”
Kagami glanced back at the house. Little fairy lights twinkling in the evening along Marinette’s balcony. She cleared her throat of the tickling feeling that had lodged there. “It surely is,”
---
(Next)
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beatricethecat2 · 4 years ago
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"This is nice," Myka says, sipping her beer while surveying the bar.
"Consuming alcohol in a public house?" Helena asks.
"Yeah," Myka says, eyes angling down as she picks at her label. "Working with Pete...this wasn't a thing I could do much. Then Steve and I had a drink here, and I remembered what it was like. I used to go on my own in DC just to unwind. Feels like a lifetime ago."
“In many ways it was," Helena says, idly stiring the ice left in her drink. "Could you ever have imagined the company you now keep?"
"I don't think so," Myka says, shifting closer to Helena. "But I like it, a lot. Doing this with you feels...normal. Two people, spending time together, not a care in the world."
"You care for nought?" Helena says, fingers tracing a line from Myka's thumb to her wrist where her hand rests on her thigh.
"Ok, one care," Myka says, eyes flicking up to meet Helena's. "Hey, I know that look. We said we'd stay for the band tonight, not just hole up in our room."
"Is there not another band tomorrow?"
"Yeah, but we said we'd stay for this one." Myka slips her hand from Helena's.
"As you wish," Helena says, settling back on her stool, frustration evident in her tone.
"More drinks, ladies?" the bartender says. "The band's about to start."
"I shall need one," Helena grouses.
"Stop being dramatic," Myka snips.
"Fine," Helena snaps. "Bourbon. Neat. Top shelf, please," she instructs the bartender.
"Comin' right up." The bartender steps away to complete the order.
"Oh, we're getting drunk now, are we?" Myka quips.
"When in Rome..."
"I'd actually like to see that, a drunk H.G. Wells," Myka says, poking Helena in the arm.
Helena flinches. "You may very well if you keep behaving as such."
"Seriously though, when's the last time you drank enough to let your guard down, even a little."
"In the company of others? Not in recent memory. And you?"
"Same."
"Here you go," the bartender interrupts, setting the tumbler on a napkin in front of Helena. "Another beer?" she asks Myka.
"You know what? I'll have the same." Myka waves her bottle at Helena's drink.
"Cavalier, Ms. Bering."
"We'll keep each other in check. We deserve to get super tipsy, at least."
"Color me intrigued."
The band strikes its first cord just as Myka's drink arrives. She tugs Helena's arm, and they relocate to a table near the stage.
-----------------
The Adventures of Bering and Wells ("Warehouse 13" Season 5 replacement) Season 1: Episode 4 Title: New Orleans: Laissez les bon temps rouler!
Summary: Myka and Helena follow whim rather than duty, driving south, detouring around Washington DC, avoiding a second emotional rabbit hole so early on. After a wi-fi-free week in a cabin, deep in the Blue Ridge Mountains, they feel ready to tackle urban density again. ("The Rockies are better," Myka declares. "We'll go there, too.) Vowing to stay as touristy as possible, the pair head towards history-filled New Orleans. But far too soon their carefree trip hits a snag and they're in need of Warehouse help.
Previously: Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3
-----------------
***BONUS SCENE***
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"Exactly how touristy have you been?" Abigail asks.
"Pretty touristy," Myka answers.
"Practically flâneurs," Helena says, grinning as Myka looks up at her with sparkly eyes.
"Well, that narrows it down," Steve mutters, typing into the keyboard. "Let's start with your hotel. Why'd you pick the carriage house?"
"The lack of adjoining suite and the king-sized bed."
"Helena!" Myka smacks Helena on the arm. "Because it's cute and charming."
"So this ghost isn't listed on their website? Wedding dress woman, Civil War soldier, dancing patio woman?" Steve asks.
"No. And the manager hadn't recognized the description I gave," Helena explains.
"So not all ghosts," Abigail says.
"If seeing them is normal," Myka says.
"Let's say the ones on their website are but H.G.'s isn't," Steve says.
"Are we to assume I've been 'whammied' then?" Helena says.
"You freeze in place. I have to shake you out of it," Myka explains.
"Perhaps I'm studying the phenomenon."
"You're never that still. It's creepy."
"Then I think we should consider it," Abigail says.
"Where else have you been?" Steve asks.
"Um, everywhere?" Myka answers. "That blacksmith's bar you and I went to. And The Gas and Lights Museum--"
"Such memories. So many details wrong," Helena gibes.
"On a carriage ride--"
"Highway robbery! Sixty-five dollars for a turn around the park. And not in the least authentic."
"You said it was nice!"
"I said it was familiar. The sound of it took me back," Helena says.
"I thought you'd like it." Myka leans back and looks up at Helena questioningly.
"I enjoyed the company quite thoroughly," Helena says, laying her hands on Myka's shoulders and grinning down at her fondly.
"Aww," Steve coos.
"Did anything about the carriage ride scream 'lady ghost will now appear at will?" Abigail asks.
"Not to my knowledge," Helena says.
"We also went to the Pharmacy Museum. And on a steamboat ride," Myka adds.
"Not that I'd have stepped foot on that death trap without proof of modern safety precautions. In my day, they exploded frequently," Helena explains.
"Ok...let's start with the Pharmacy Museum," Abigail says as Steve types. "Could this woman have afforded a doctor?"
"She often appears in her Sunday best, but also in, shall we say...less. She didn't strike me as particularly monied."
"Did she look sort of vampire-ish?" Steve asks. "I'm reading that people with consumption were rumored to be vampires due to how the disease aged them."
"I'm familiar with that premise, and no, this woman was not withering away."
"Could she have died on a steamboat?" Abigail asks.
"She doesn't give off that sense. There's a calm about her. She's not in danger."
"Let's try another angle. The neighborhood you're staying in, Storyville, claims to be the birthplace of jazz," Abigail says, reading over Steve's shoulder. "Maybe she's related to that?"
"Myka took me to hear this 'jazz,' and I can't say I was at all impressed."
"I like it. Steve does, too. You really hated it?" Myka asks.
"The bleat of the saxophone evokes vaudeville for me."
"Play her some Charlie Parker. Or John Coltrane. That might change her mind," Steve suggests.
"Does this relate to our ghost?" Abigail presses.
"I don't see a connection," Helena answers. "Her dress is previous to that of jazz, of an age closer to my own."
"Storyville was once a legal bordello district," Steve explains. "The whole neighborhood was shut down in 1917. So maybe she's from then?"
"That makes sense," Myka says.
"Do you see her inside or outside?" Abigail asks.
"Thus far, outside."
"But," Myka protests, "last night, when we were...t-the blindfold, you said 'just in case.'"
"Did that not heighten our activities?"
"That's not the point. I can't believe you--"
"Punish me later, darling--"
"Why don't you two hash this out, and we'll get back to you," Abigail suggests.
"Wait, is this her?" Steve asks.
Steve shares a black and white photo of a woman, seated outdoors, in front of a makeshift white backdrop, her hair styled into a modest, shoulder-length coif. Her linen top, trimmed with lace, hangs off one shoulder, and a string of pearls adorns her neck. Her lipstick, rendered as a middle grey, matches the kohl lining her eyes, giving her a soft, silent movie-era look.
"Hm, possibly."
"Here's another."
Helena leans further over Myka's shoulder, looking closely at the image. "Yes, I believe that is her."
"That's, um, really off the shoulder. Shoulders..." Myka says. "Isn't that kind of racy for the time?"
"Quite tame compared to some. Her expression is unusual, contemplative almost, recalling solemn greek statues rather than the usual fodder meant to titillate men's desires."
"How would you know?"
"One encounters all sorts of materials as a Warehouse agent," Helena says with a smirk.
"As an agent. Uh-huh."
"Listen to this," Steve interrupts, "these prints were made from a stash of glass negatives found locked in a desk drawer years after the photographer died. Many are of Adele, the woman you're seeing, but there are other women, too. They were shot in the 1910s, but these prints were made in the '60s. If there were any original prints, they were never found."
"May I see the images again?"
Steve cycles through and adds a few more, one depicting a roll-down desk with a shrine of photos arranged above, all of women, vignetted portraits and romantic depictions of the female form more typical for the time.
"Not sure if that last one is related. But it says it's by the same photographer."
"Could you send that one over? I'd like to look more closely."
"Sure."
Myka trades places with Helena, and Helena clicks the link. She enlarges the photo and inspects the array of images.
"I vaguely recall flicking through a basket in a shop with ephemera such as this. Perhaps this ghost woman was amongst it, but printed in a manner such as the images depicted here."
"So you're saying the photo in the shop might be a photo from this photo?"
"That is what I'm hypothesizing."
"So when you see her, you freeze like you're her photograph trapped in this photograph."
"Or perhaps I am her, caught in the decisive moment of the image being captured."
"That's really meta," Steve says.
"No matter what, neutralizing that photo should do the trick," Abigail suggests. "Heck, neutralize everything in the basket, just in case."
"Do you remember which shop you were in?" Steve asks.
"My recollection is hazy at best due to the copious amount of drink someone encouraged me to consume the evening previously."
Helena looks at Myka and scowls. Myka looks back, endearingly.
"I don't get hangovers."
"Lucky you," Helena quips.
"I hope you find it soon," Steve says, "because being happy looks good on both of you. You should get back to that."
"Thank you, Steve. And thank you, Abigail, for all your help," Helena says.
"Anytime," Abigail says.
"Have a great trip. Send some postcards!" Steve says.
"What a marvelous idea," Helena replies.
"Isn't flicking through postcards how we got here?" Myka warns.
"Shall you pre-screen everything I touch from now on?"
"Maybe I should--"
"We're hanging up now," Abigail says.
The screen goes blank as Myka and Helena devlove further into playful bickering.
*End Scene*
-TBC-
NOTES: "Laissez les bon temps rouler!" is Cajun French for "Let the good times roll." In season four, Steve and Myka go New Orleans and both say they like jazz, so I'm not making that up. I see Myka as more of fan of popular tunes - Billy Holiday, Duke Ellington, Nat King Cole, etc., whereas Steve would know the genre through and through (and try as he might, never gets Claudia quite on board with it all). The photographer is E. J. Bellocq - I was going to incorporate that more, but the politics behind photos I mentioned is...complicated. I want this B&W show to focus on our ladies journey, artifacts are side-plot motivations. But if you're interested, look him up, and I suggest reading both Susan Sontag and Nan Goldin's essays for some clarity on why the images hold the status they do. From the research I've done, his images are plastered all over Storyville businesses, so if you've been there, you've seen at least one. Oh and I had a roommate once who could drink anything and never got a hangover. Some people are lucky like that.
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mascwhump · 4 years ago
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Chapter 1: Hillside
Well, here it is! First piece of work with these guys that I’m publishing. It’s not great but I’m confident enough to post it. Let me know what you think!
TW: blood, guns, general military stuff
Tag list: @whumpasaurus101
-
Charlie sat on the basement floor, humming along to the music he was playing from his phone. He meticulously loaded bullets into the magazines, completely immersed in the repetitive motions. He finished just in time for Crow to call him up for dinner.
“Pasta again?” Adrian complained.
“Maybe if you had gone into town like I asked, we would have something else to eat,” Crow snapped back.
Charlie took his seat at the table. He filled his plate with the butter covered spaghetti. Ethan slid into the room on his socks, crashing into the back of a chair. Nobody made a comment, as this was normal behavior.
“Where are you at with our gear?” Adrian asked Charlie with mouthful of food. Crow shot him a glare from across the table.
“All set. Just finished loading the mags,” Charlie answered.
After dinner, Charlie helped Ethan wash the dishes. They finished in record time, as getting to bed as soon as possible was a priority. They were leaving at 2 A.M. to meet Deke at the helipad.
The plan consisted of Charlie posted up on a hill, overseeing the ZETA compound with his sniper rifle. Adrian and Crow were to head into the building, download some files from a computer, and get the hell out of there. Ethan was to stay on the helicopter with Deke at the exfil point.
The alarm buzzing at 12:30 made Charlie’s eyes shoot open. He slapped his hand around the nightstand before finding the clock and switching it off. Soon, he was dressed and in the kitchen, cooking eggs from Adrian’s chickens. The others emerged from the basement with their gear, tossing it aside in the hallway when they realized food was on the table.
After eating, Charlie strapped on his vest and mentally went through the checklist to make sure he had all of his gear. After shoving a knife in his boot and a pistol by his hip, he reached for the face paint and slathered it on. Finally, they loaded the gear into the Jeep and headed toward the helipad.
The safe house was deep in the woods, miles from the city. It sat not too far from a lake, where the team would spend R&R time when on standby. The helipad was also secluded, located in a clearing about 3 miles from the safe house. The road they took was hardly maintained; it was incredibly rare to see anyone else on it, especially at the hours they traveled.
Once they arrived, Deke was leaning against his bird, smoking a cigarette.
“Those things will kill you, you know,” Adrian said.
“Want one?” Deke offered.
“Fuck yeah I do,” Adrian replied.
The team loaded themselves, along with their gear, into the helicopter. The blades whirled to life and they put on the headphones that allowed them to communicate with each other. Adrian flicked the cigarette out as they lifted off.
“That’s how forest fires start,” Ethan said flatly.
Adrian shrugged in response.
“Alright, we’ve got about two hours. Let’s go over the plan again,” Crow spoke.
Charlie was awoken by a kick to his boot.
“Five minutes out,” Adrian spoke.
Charlie grabbed his rifle, checking it one last time to make sure it looked good. He went through the checklist once more in his head to be positive that he had everything.
Deke brought the bird down in a clearing two miles from the compound. Charlie, Adrian, and Crow jumped out, switching on their comms.
“We’ll be here,” Deke said.
The team made their way into the forest, heading South. Crow and Adrian swept the area with their rifles, and Charlie followed behind. They weren’t expecting anyone this far from the compound, but you could never be too safe. Finally, they reached the top of the hill, where Charlie was to remain.
“Good luck,” he wished them, patting them both on the back before they went off.
Charlie laid his rifle down in the grass, standing it up on its bipod. He got settled in a prone position before looking through the scope to find Crow and Adrian. Soon, they appeared at the bottom of the hill, carefully making their way toward the building.
“Got you in my scope,” Charlie spoke.
“10-4,” Crow replied.
Two guards stood outside the door they planned to go in. Charlie watched as they took them down silently and dragged their bodies behind a truck. They changed into the uniforms of the enemy before heading back to the building. The door was unlocked.
As Charlie could no longer track his team, he scanned the surrounding area, checking for any guards. The perimeter was clear.
“Found a computer. Downloading data now. This’ll take about 5 minutes,” Adrian relayed in a hushed tone.
“10-4. Building perimeter is clear,” Charlie replied.
A minute passed. Then two. Then three.
Then the alarm sounded.
“Talk to me, Lefty,” Charlie spoke, “what’s going on?”
“They must’ve detected the download. We’re leaving. Is our exit clear?” Crow replied.
“Exit’s clear,” Charlie answered.
He scanned the area around the exit, ready to pick off anybody who would be in the way.
“Fuck, we’re compromised! Go!” Crow yelled.
Suddenly, multiple men appeared outside, pouring out of every door. Charlie began picking them off one by one. The soldiers looked around frantically, trying to find the origin of the shots.
“Flame, get out!” Adrian screamed over the comms, gunfire crackling through the speaker.
“They haven’t seen me yet, keep heading toward the exit!” Charlie replied as he continued to fire.
He was able to pick off a few more before a sharp pain blew through his right shoulder. He dropped the rifle, his hand flying to his shoulder. Pushing himself along the ground, he abandoned his rifle in favor of cover behind a large rock. When he pulled his hand away from his shoulder, he observed the blood soaking his glove.
“I’ve been hit,” he grunted into the comms.
“I told you to go! Right, right! Go right!” Crow yelled in response.
Charlie leaned up against the rock and retrieved the pistol from his holster. He thought about using a tourniquet, but the wound was too far up. Instead, he used his left hand to keep pressure on it, and held the gun in his right. It was incredibly painful to hold up his arm to aim, but he had no choice. He listened carefully to his surroundings.
“Give me a sitrep,” he breathed.
“Trying to find another exit,” Adrian replied, “it’s- ah shite,“
“Scotch? What’s going on?” Charlie yelled, “Scotch? Lefty? Talk to me!”
The radio went quiet. Charlie ears strained; it wasn’t a matter of if he would be found, it was a matter of when. He pressed deeply on the wound, doing anything he could to control the bleeding. The sudden crunching of leaves made him jerk toward the noise. He pointed his gun to the trees, waiting. The sound became closer and more hurried. His finger rested above the trigger, ready to fire.
“Charlie!” Ethan gasped, stumbling out of the trees.
Charlie set down his pistol, relieved to see his friend. Ethan ran over to him and immediately inspected the wound.
“Shit, there’s no exit wound,” he sighed as he took over the job of applying pressure.
“Have you heard from them? My comms are dead,” Charlie asked.
Ethan shook his head. “They went silent. We have to get you back to the helicopter,” he answered.
“No. We can’t go without them,” Charlie protested.
“You’re losing too much blood,” Ethan argued back.
Then, a bullet whizzed past their heads, missing them by just inches.
“Hold your fire!”
A group of about six men approached, guns raised and ready to fire. Charlie rested his hand on his pistol, watching them.
“He wants them alive.”
The color drained from Ethan’s face as the men continued toward them, standing just feet away. Without hesitation, Charlie picked up the gun and fired in their direction, hitting one of the men in the chest. Another soldier lunged forward, pushing Ethan out of the way before wrestling the pistol from Charlie’s hand.
“Please, he’s hurt,” Ethan begged, placing his hands back on the wound.
“We’ll take care good care of your friend,” a solider said, stepping forward.
In one movement, the shoulder of his rifle met the side of Ethan’s head, instantly rendering him unconscious. Charlie sprang to his feet while ripping the knife from his boot. The sharp pain in his shoulder hindered his attack. He jumped at the solider, missing his chance to sink the knife in. He was forced to the ground, and the last thing he saw was a boot coming toward his face.
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catboycafe · 4 years ago
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I Will Now Express Every Thought I Have About Pacific Rim: The Black 
⚠️ spoilers for the whole thing baby
I actually forgot Pacific Rim: The Black was premiering today until I saw it in an article this morning! When I first heard about it months ago, I was decidedly not sold on a Pacific Rim anime. Uprising burnt me the fuck out and I don’t have a lot of trust left in me for new entries to the franchise. But I had heard rumblings of Raleigh and Herc being referenced after going into #pacificrim and I decided I may as well check out to see what was up! I binged it in 4 hours and it sure was a whirlwind, I’ll tell ya
The Plot
I really enjoy the setting and initial concept! We’re so use to seeing Kaiju/Jaegar shenanigans play out within these major cities with helpless civilians everywhere that spending so much time in a lonesome desert and these destroyed civilizations was really cool and indicative of the changes Pacific Rim has undergone in the last few years. I also looooved the Desert Settlement from the beginning!! It seemed really homey and picturesque; I wish we’d spent more time with the other survivors and got to see more of their day to day aside from farming and sitting. 
I also found the first episode set up to be really tight and well written! I was hooked during the initial flashback, Hayley and Taylor’s fight was really poignant and well acted, and the reveal of Atlas Destroyer felt really huge and epic!!
But once we left the Desert Settlement and the plot started actually moving along, the pacing becomes suuuper rough. We spent way too long in Bogan with Shane and Mei; there’s only 7 episodes and we spent, like, 3? 4? within the confines of that camp and I felt it weighed the plot down. Boy is introduced in the 2nd episode and, because the narrative spends so much time on Shane’s evil machinations and Mei’s back story, we still don’t know anything concrete about his origins or purpose 3 episodes later! That felt frustrating to me
The story beats overall were very predictable. I was able to pick up on Mei’s backstory via her dynamic with Shane in their introductions, so her memories felt too built up and too hollow once they were revealed. The same with the reveal of Boy’s Kaiju form; he was in a big green test tube in a PPDC base - I assumed immediately he was a part-kaiju experiment and again his reveal felt hollow, especially after the glacial pace of it’s development. 
Even when events weren’t predictable, they lacked weight. The appearance of several Kaiju Breaches in “Boneyard” felt very cheap for some reason; I wasn’t scared and I didn’t feel tense about these odds mounting against the protagonists. This was just happening and I was just watching. 
The Art Direction and Animation
I’m very obsessed with all the new Kaiju we got from this; I love how Copperhead is rendered, they’re a joy to see on screen!! The Rippers are also very cute and deserve little plushies...i love these neat little dogs. Boy’s Kaiju Form is very intimidating with an interesting color palette and I loved seeing him next to Copperhead’s highly saturated design!
That’s unfortunately all that I liked however; All the human character design is unmemorable to me. Every character looks exactly like another easily identifiable anime character from a different property (Hayley looks exactly like Zero Suit Samus to me, for example. And Mei kept reminding me of both Bernadetta Fire Emblem and Motoko Kusanagi from GitS. The list goes on). 
I can sort of understand why they’re so bland? A franchise going from Live Action to something as heavily stylized as anime is probably a really difficult transition and these designs are probably meant to be more lowkey than more unique anime designs in order to help that transition. But realistically stylized designs can still be recognizable and unique! These feel uninspired and bare bones.
 I have no problem with the switch to CGI animation that modern anime is doing because I know it’s a lot cheaper to produce and it can still be really unique and striking! But The Black’s model animation felt very stilted and inconsistent. I don’t have a lot of knowledge about animating so I don’t think I can accurately describe what I disliked? Wooden is probably the best term. Character movements felt wooden and things like hair and clothes felt plastic. 
Impacts also had very little weight. The fight between Tayler/Mei and Copperhead reminded me of when you’re in a dream and trying to punch something, but you can’t punch hard. It was simply too floaty and too soft. The final showdown in “Showdown” was better, but not by much. It was very immersion breaking seeing these Giant Robots and Giant Monsters unable to throw a real solid hit!
Characters
My favorite character was unequivocally Joel Wyrick. We love Joel Wyrick in this house! Joel’s character has real charisma and charm. I love his flirtations with Loa, how his cocky disposition is juxtaposed with his drinking problem and later insecurities over his lost memories, and his genuine kindness shown to Mei, Taylor, and Boy. No one ever plays with Boy, they just run after him and drag him around...but Joel has this moment in “Escape from Bogan” where he kneels down to Boy and helps him collect rocks. It was sweet!
So of course, when Joel dies for absolutely no reason 5 minutes later - pissed! I was pissed! I yelled “COME ON” aloud in my studio apartment! I was genuinely so excited to see him interact more with the rest of cast then, poof. No More Joel.
His death felt like it was for shock value to me rather than actual narrative development. Why kill him when we still don’t fully understand his and Mei’s relationship? Why were they so close? Were they childhood friends, or just coworkers that happen to become friends? Why did he specifically know all the details of Shane’s abuse towards Mei before she did? 
What did his death accomplish? It made Mei sad...ok? She was already...very sad. Her running away from Shane already had consequences - the consequences of Shane coming after them for revenge in the future. Why did Joel have to become a causality? 
His death is ultimately tied to Mei’s character arc which is, unfortunately, my least favorite :c I find Mei to be a really one dimensional character with a personality, backstory, outlook, and motivation that I’ve seen done a million times before with a million other characters. She feels very out of place in the franchise as a whole - Pacific Rim is, at it’s core, a story about connecting with others. Her self-centric arc and lack of desire to connect outside of drifting really alienates her from the story at large and it frustrates me how long The Black’s narrative spends on her. 
Hayley and Taylor were otherwise very interesting in the pilot episode, but become similarly one dimensional at the story chugs on. Taylor’s unflinching (bordering on unhealthy) faith in their parents was really interesting next to Hayley’s complete acceptance of their parents’ death. But once the two of them make up their differences, they lack an interesting dynamic and become very passive protagonists.
 Taylor especially has no personality - how would you describe Taylor? He’s...brave. He’s the older brother. He’s a leader? He’s nice? There is nothing noteworthy about him at all, which is sad considering I think he has the potential to be a really interesting way to explore the original movie’s influence on The Black’s story.
Hayley’s grief and self-blame are more interesting than Taylor’s...nothingness, but she still falls into this one-note trope of being the naive, excitable little sister. I guess I feel abnormally frustrated about this flat character writing because Pacific Rim’s incredibly unique cast has always been an inspiration to me! It feels sad that this new iteration into the series is full of what feel like stock characters. 
Then we get to Boy. How come Boy can’t have a person name? It’s specifically written in a dialogue between Taylor and Hayley: “I’m not going to call him Chad or Barnaby or one of those names for a baby brother you wanted as a kid,”
Why?
He’s by all accounts a human child when they find him. Yes, he was found in a big green test tube - but he walks and acts just like a human child. The only difference, seemingly, is that he is non-verbal and engages in strange/annoying behavior (running off, eating bugs, etc). So he isn’t deserving of a name?? I don’t know why that makes me so mad, it just does. it’s like they refuse to treat him as a human even before they find out he’s a Kaiju  - it’s super weird! How can the story sell me on the three of them becoming found family (like they’re seemingly trying to do) if the protagonists won’t even treat this kid like a kid??
Misc. Thoughts
The callbacks to Stacker, Herc, and Raleigh were cool! I also like that Herc is a major plot point! We love Herc Hanson and it’s what he deserves. I also find Loa’s connection to Horizon Bravo very interesting...and the fact we’re getting Kaiju cultist lore! Love that! Love that!
Fucked up that the only two dark skinned characters were: 1) removed from the story 10 minutes in with no call back yet, 2) Killed after having 1 line of dialogue and fridged for the character development of the blonde white girl. I really need to know what the deal with those 4 characters leaving in the beginning was about - I absolutely thought we’d see them again by now, but no dice
I don’t know how to feel about Ajax and have no clue what their purpose in the story is. They’re cool, but whats the point? 
If Mei and Taylor are paired up together romantically, I’m putting Craig Kyle and Greg Johnson in the time out box. Very tired of seeing random hetero romance B plots in stories that can’t even get their A plots together
Overall, it’s kind of subpar! It has the foundations of a really interesting story, but the pacing and characters really took me out of it. I’m interested in Season 2! I know season 2 is already ordered and I’d love to see how things continue to develop, see if the character writing gets any better - but I’m not too hopeful unfortunately. I really really love Pacific Rim after all these years and I’m happy to still be getting content and world building! There’s just sooo much I would change about this however. At least fanfiction’s free! 
Thanks for reading all this, I have ADHD and just go on and on if u let me. hmu if You Too have thoughts about Pacific Rim: The Black and have no one to talk abt them with
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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years ago
Note
for mermay, 24 indruck nsfw?
Here you go! 24 was Lighthouse, and I made it a continuation of this space mermay fill. NOTE: this fill contains oviposition.
Communication Log between Lieutenant of the Amnesty and Chief Astrobotantist Duck Newton.
Joseph: Storm is forecasted to last four days at least. We won’t be able to land on Atlantia to pick you up until it passes.
Duck: Roger that. We should be fine here; ‘Drid says the storms are dangerous for spacecrafts and travel but not for buildings. I’ll keep testing the specimens we found in the meantime.
Joseph: if it gets too dangerous, let us know and we’ll try to get an emergency retrieval ship to you.
Duck: Will do. Duck out.
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Atlantia, one of the four moons of the planet Oceana, is off limits to most. It’s home to precious minerals that the residents of the moon Aquaria have been known to go to war over, fighting to see who controls the territory in which the substance resides. To avoid these conflicts, the whole moon was declared a public resource, and all but the native Atlantians must acquire elaborate permits to visit. Outsiders are practically forbidden.
Unless said outsider is married to one of the most valuable individuals in the whole lunar system and said individual is suddenly very willing to throw his weight around for the sake of his beloved’s research.
Indrid’s negotiations were only able to secure permission for him and Duck, not the rest of the Amnesty, and so Duck spent the better part of two weeks scouring the plant life and trying to discern if the mineral make-up of the soil produced plants more likely to contain the curative properties he’s searching for. When the storm picked up, rendering the surface of the moon unsafe, Indrid apologized profusely for not foreseeing the change in the futures. Duck pointed out that it was sudden enough that the two of them had already arrived at the pick-up spot before the storm turned violent.
Of places to be sheltering during a storm, an Oceanic Beacon is at once an excellent and terrifying choice. It’s a combination of a lighthouse and landing strip, alerting travelers to the presence of land and the location to dock their craft. Because light from the beacon has to reach a massive distance into the sky and across the waves, the building lives beneath a dome of specially engineered, see-through glass. A storm has never so much as cracked one. But it means that Duck has a perfect view of the gigantic waves washing over them which, while awe-inspiring, makes his lizard brain certain he’s about to drown.
So he spends most of his time in the terrestrial rooms researching to keep his mind off the weather. Except for when Indrid swims up from the heavily fortified subaquatic portion of the lighthouse to visit him. Then he devotes every last bit of his energy to his husband. Most of the Aquariads he meets are shocked to discover he’s not only happy to be married to the eerie, formidable seer, but that he actively misses him when he’s out on his missions.
“The others are not too worried I hope?” Indrid swims to him as he comes down the stairs from the communication pad.
“Nope.” Duck pulls off the top of his uniform, “once you knew we had food to last over a month if we had to, I got a hell of a lot calmer too.” He drops into the pool, water carrying a hint of heat, as Indrid curls the celestial expanse of his tail around his waist. Duck is a strong swimmer, but Indrid’s ability to carry him to and fro without getting so much as winded makes him want to feign helplessness and spend his days in those undulating scales.
“In that case, sweet one, care to join me for a swim before dinner?”
Duck smiles, “You know it, sugar” and draws the alien in for a kiss as the lights of the beacon make gemstones of the salt spray on the glass.
--------------------------------------------------
Two days down, two to go, and Indrid wishes he could enjoy their little impromptu second honeymoon to it’s fullest (he’d taken Duck on a proper one his first visit back after joining the others on their expedition). His body has other plans; it seems to have caught on to the fact his partner keeps coming and going, and that if he wishes to have offspring with said partner, he needs to be ready (never mind that he and Duck cannot have offspring through any sort of biological means). So when Duck’s scent fills his nose and his laugh floods his ears, his body decides to fill his ovipositor.
Thus, he’s spent the last three days increasingly uncomfortable, the weight noticeable in his abdomen. His initial plan was to excuse himself early in the evening when they got home and masturbate until they were all released. But the beacon, while spacious, has very few rooms closed off, and the water is so clear that there are a high number of futures in which Duck catches him in the act.
Which is why, as the human sleeps a very safe distance from the edge of the pool (“‘Drid, if I fall in the worse that’ll happen is I get a hell of a wake up call” “yes but I cannot bear even the slightest risk of you drowning”), Indrid is squirming in an attempt to get comfortable. He doesn’t even realize he’s chirping in frustration until Duck murmurs his name.
“It, it is nothing sweet one, go back to sleep.”
“Darlin, your spots are goin’ green.” Duck indicates the flickers of sickly chartreuse in the water, “you feelin sick?”
“No. Or, ah, not in the sense you are thinkingoh, ohhh” he sighs, rubbing his face against Duck’s palm as the human gauges whether he’s feverish, “but I am achy and restless.”
“And hot, christ ‘Drid, there are med supplies here right? I mean, I got some in my bag, but they’re for humans-”
“I am not sick. It’s this” He rolls onto his back so Duck can see his cock straining to emerge.
“Sugar, you know you can ask for help with that any time.” Duck’s smile is sweet sin.
“No, it’s” Indrid whines as the tip emerges, the bulge of the first egg painfully obvious.
“Oh. Huh. Kinda figured you weren’t due for that again for a year or so. Not sure why; guess I just assumed Aquariads had a matin season.”
“Unfortunately it can happen quite often. If, if you do not mind, I will excuse myself and deal with it. It’s to the point where the eggs need to come out sooner rather than later.”
“Sure. Or, uh, if you want, I could, uh, help you out?”
--------------------------------------------------------------
The widening of Indrid’s eyes and the shock of orange that travels up his tail and fin suggests Duck has just done something remarkable.
“Surprise you, sugar?” He tucks a strand of silver hair the behind the aliens fanned out ear.
“Yes. There, there were no futures where you offered, why in the name of the deep did you?” His colors have turned nervous, but Duck spots occasional bursts of desire.
“Because” He sits up, patting his lap so his husband will rest his head in it and let Duck rub the knots in his neck, “you’re my ‘Drid; I wanna help you out, make you feel good too. And uh, I gotta admit, I been a little curious about it. Plus that holo-porn compendium you sent me while I was gone time before involved it a lot and it seems like it could be fun.”
“So you did watch it” Indrid looks up, grinning.
“Course I did. Gotta learn how to please my Aquariad husband.” He teases, kissing Indrid’s forehead.
“You need no help in that area whatsoever. I could not ask for a finer husband, human or otherwise.” Indrid kisses Duck’s belly through his thin shirt, then pauses, “you are not offering this out of a feeling of obligation, right?”
“Right. I want to do this with you, ‘Drid. Cross my heart.”
Red eyes skate up to his face, “In that case, disrobe and get in the water at once.”
Duck sinks into the clear depths the instant he’s naked, Indrid swimming back only long enough for him to get in before crowding him against the edge of the pool.
“My love.” Indrid purrs, kisses so languid and gentle they almost disguise the heat in his fingertips as gropes Duck’s ass, the force with which his tail forces his legs apart.
“You know itAHhh, fuck, fuckin love that” he groans as the tendriled tip of his cock teases Duck’s own, “so, uh, this gonna be that different from the way we normally do this?”
“For starters, I will not cum until all the eggs are deposited.” Indrid’s fin flickers pink, “and it will be more intense on your end, not only because of the stretch but because I have to be rather, ah, vigorous in order to make sure they all come out.”
“As opposed to all those times you don’t fuck me like there’s no tomorrow.” Duck snickers, wrapping his legs around the dark scales to help ease Indrid’s cock into him.
“It’s not my fault you are the most delectable, ah, ‘piece of ass’ I have ever seen. Did I use that correctly?”
“Yep” Duck tips his head back, allowing Indrid to kiss it as he pauses his thrust so his tendrils can stroke his G-spot before continuing deeper, “you been watchin earth porn for ideas?”
“Indeed. I also found some featuring an actor who looks rather like you, and watched it an embarrassing amount during your absences.” He chirps as he bottoms out and Duck toys with the sensitive band in his fin as Indrid positions them so the bottom half of his tail is flat against the wall, which lets him keep Duck pinned to it.
“You are going to squirm, and I do not want you doing so and coming off my cock.”
“Seem mighty confident you’re gonna get that reaction.” Duck nips his ear.
Indrid’s sharp-toothed grin takes on a hungry glint, “The futures tell me so. But since you seem to doubt them…”
“AhFUCK!” Duck’s back bangs into the wall as Indrid pulls halfway out and then drives back into him, “fuckyeah, sugar that feels so fuckin goodOHwhatthefuck” the bumps in Indrid’s cock are moving, the ones towards the base of the shaft grinding on Duck’s dick as they do.
“Nmmmm, I told you I was pent up, oh, oh yes, yes sweet one, get ready to take the firstAHhhnnn.”
“Jesusfuck” Duck bucks his hips as the first egg pushes into him. It’s not hard like a birds egg, more soft and squishy, but all the same his body convulses as it registers something inside him. His brain, however, sends a moan from his mouth because as alien as the sensation may be, the fact it’s Indrid doing it makes him wetter and harder than he’s been in weeks.
Better still is the look on Indrid’s face, his head tipped back in bliss as he fucks him. It’s only when he looks down that Duck sees the tears threatening his eyes.
“You, I, I’ve, you are letting me lay in you, letting me mate with you, no, no one has ever let me do this before.”
The heat spiking through him on the word mate changes to fierce affection at the thought that Indrid was denied such closeness, or any closeness, for so long.
“Oh darlin, c’mere” he guides the alien into a kiss, then moans as another egg presses into him. Indrid swallows the sound down, keeps Duck in the kiss until the pressure has subsided.
“Such a lovely little mate.”
“Do my best.”
Indrid rubs their cheeks together, “That is why this has been so frequent, you know. I am so very enamored with you that the primal parts of my system want nothing more than to fill you with my eggs, keep you here pampered and fucked out until we have a whole little school swimming about the house. I, ahhhn, I could even look after them on my own while you are away. Or, or if we decide that is not for us I want to lay in you every day so no one else will ever dare to think you could be theirs.”
“Not a fuckin chance, fuck, darlin” his thighs tighten around his tail as another egg pulses out of the tip, “it’s so fuckin hot when you talk like that.”
“Really? I was afraid I was babbling. OhOHohdear, ah, this is unexpected.”
“Uh-”
“Not in a bad way, but I am so aroused the eggs are going to start coming out more quickly. Which means, my darling husband, I suggest you hold on.”
“Way ahead of youUUUshit, fuck” his hands switch from gripping Indrid’s shoulders to thrown around them for dear life as Indrid bounces him roughly on his dick. There’s not pause between the fourth and fifth egg and he’s starting to feel full, squirms when the sixth egg almost pushes Indrid’s cock free.
“I, I told you so.” Indrid purrs, hands holding tight to Duck’s ass as another egg emerges, “but you are not going anywhere, little human. You are, nnng, staying right here, taking every last one of them, because you are my mate and if I want you full to burst you will be.”
“Holy fuck, ‘Drid” Duck buries his face in his husbands neck as his cock shifts backwards. The tip opens wider, covering all of Duck’s folds as the tendrils return to his dick, “fuck, fuck, sugar I’m gonna cum.”
“Yesss” Indrid growls, tail rippling as he forces the next egg into place, “that’s it, sweet one, cum for me, cum while I stuff you full, my perfect, perfect, wonderful one.”
Duck can’t even get words out as his orgasm races through him, muscles spasming in new ways around the eggs. He whines as Indrid continues bouncing him, eggs shifting and keeping his muscles from relaxing, tendrils keeping a rapid tempo on his dick.
“Oh, ohohohoh I am close, ohyes, Duck, my sweet Duck, you take me so well, take a little more, be a good mate and take the last one, take my cum, you are going to hold all of it until I am satisfied that you are mine AH, ahhhhyes” he trills and Duck grunts as he’s stretched wider by the last egg and flood of cum. Indrid clings to him, chirping and trilling as his tail twitches, until his cock retracts. Then it’s just the storm and the sound of their joint panting as Indrid swims them weakly backwards to a shallow section of the pool.
“Here” the alien guides Duck to recline half out of the water, “if you spread your legs and relax, most of them will fall out on their own.”
“Gotcha.” Duck can neither keep his eyes open nor stay upright, so Indrid adjusts so the human is resting atop him, back against his chest. One by one, the eggs slip out dissolving in the water after a few moments. The last two prove stubborn and Indrid massages his abdomen, cooing about how wonderfully he did, until they too slip away.
“Thank you.” Indrid murmurs, nestling his chin on his shoulder.
“Any time, darlin. Or, uh, maybe not too many times back to back. Not sure my junk can take it. Still, better we did that than tryin it up my ass. Woulda lead to some awkward med records and my crew never lettin me live it down.”
“Do not be so sure. I suspect Joseph would have been envious.”
Duck snorts a laugh, looking over his shoulder in surprise.
“I read his sexual preferences on those forms they made you each submit.” Then he smiles like a sunrise welcoming Duck home, “but I think I made the right choice, don’t you?”
“Yeah, sugar, I do.”
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lets-get-kraken-boys · 4 years ago
Text
Yandere! Hawks/Keigo Takami X Reader: Caged Songbird~
(Description: Ooo, y’all are in for a treat today~! Hey, my first Gender Neutral AND Yandere fic on this account! And no less, it’s our favorite manwhore, Hawks! I sincerely hope you enjoy reading my story and if you like this fic, don’t worry, I have more yandere fic on the way~! Thank you for your time, consideration, and all the love you royals have shown a simple jester like me!)
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Fanfiction Lingo
(Y/N) - Your Name
(N/N) - Nickname
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“Normal speech.”
‘Inner thoughts.’
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Requester: No One!
Reader Gender: Gender Neutral (They/Them)
Style of Story: Oneshot (Possible Part 2?) // Manipulative, obsessive, and controlling behavior; hints of stalking; kidnapping
Word Count: 1.7K Words
WARNING(s): Yandere themes, so if you aren’t okay with obsessive/possessive/psychotic natures then please don’t read!
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[P.S: I DO NOT SUPPORT YANDERE TENDENCIES IN REAL LIFE!!! Do not confuse me writing this subject as encouraging it, there is a difference from reading/writing yandere stories V.S real life situations. Please, if someone in your life is behaving like the character in this story (i.e. obsessive, possessive, controlling, abusive, psychotic, sociopathic, LIKE A WACKADOO, etc.) get immediate help! That behavior in the real world is not romantic, sweet, or NORMAL! Stay aware and stay safe.]
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“Baby bird, wait up!” the last person you wanted to talk to right now, Hawks, giggled as he drifted down to glide next to your frantic self. Even though you were already speed walking down the sidewalk away from his apartment where the two of you had previously been 20 minutes ago, you tugged your jacket closer to your frame and scurried faster through the drafty night in a desperate attempt to make him leave.
“Go away, Hawks. I’m done talking with you tonight.” you mumbled as he continued to spin around you in an almost teasing way that further pissed you off.
“Ouch, (N/N)~,” Keigo grabbed his chest where his heart is while floating directly in front of you to block your path with his massive scarlet wings, “Not even calling me by my first name anymore? C’mon, what happened to ‘my hero~’ or ‘Mr. Stud~’? Not even ‘bird brain’?” he mocked in fake shock.
You scoffed and stepped past his fiery feathers, marching down your path while shouting back, “You don’t get that lovey-dovey crap from me tonight!”
Though the rest of the world was dark in the wee hours of the night, the flickering street lamps guided you to the train station that would take you back home to your apartment that you thankfully hadn’t moved out of yet, even though Hawks constantly  whined about you ditching the “dingy” place in favor of the two of you living together in his over-the-top penthouse. You had no roommates to notify that you were heading back after a few days with Keigo and you had long ago left your parents’ house to live on your own so you pressed on, blocking out his pouty, annoyed huffs of air in favor of dreaming about your cozy bed waiting to coddle you in its embrace with no fear of sharing the space with anyone.
“(Y/N), slow down for a second! Why are you acting so weird?” you heard Keigo’s voice and jogging footsteps sound from behind you. You recognized the feeling of his hand trying to circle around your wrist but before he got too comfortable, you snatched it away from him and swiveled your body back to meet his teasing hooded eyes.
“I’M acting weird? What about you! You brought this onto yourself, stupid!” you hissed while stepping a foot back.
Though that action didn’t make him falter, instead he stepped with you and stared you dead in the eye, “What did I do, hummingbird?” he asked with another sly cock of his head.
“Really? Me yelling at you in the penthouse wasn’t enough,” you growled, “You were checking through my phone while I was in the shower like a total CREEP, Keigo! What were you thinking, that I was just gonna come out of the shower, see you looking through my private messages with friends and family without you previously asking for permission to do, and I would say “Oh, no worries, love!” Are you nuts or something?!” you hollered at the hero whose smirk made you want to gift him a punch straight in the face for his cocky attitude.
“It’s fine, baby bird, I’m just checking to make sure everything was okay! You’ve been distant with me lately~,” his eyebrows twitched up and he gave a small pout as his wings slightly drooped to the pavement.
“Wait, hold on, we’ve been on a few dates for the past two months, no where near officially dating yet, and you think stuff like that is okay? You trust me so little that you have to go behind my back and search through my private things, to what? Prove a point to yourself or something? How did you even get my password?!” you barked in his stupidly attractive face.
“Love, you’re overreaching,” Hawks strode over to you and quickly locked you in his strong arms, though you tried to squirm away in disgust, “There are things in this world that a civilian like you wouldn’t understand. Heroes have to make so many hard decisions and as your hero, I have to make sure to be just that, save you from everything and everyone, even yourself sometimes.”
He leaned his head on yours and you heard him take a deep breath in only to let it out with an almost loving sigh while he continued, “There are bad people in this world that I encounter every day and I don’t want you accidentally stumbling on them through the internet. You know, it’s really rude of you to have kept Tinder on your phone even though we’re already in a committed relationship. Good thing you have me here to help!” he chuckled, his hold on your body tightening with each passing second.
Thoroughly creeped the hell out and not one to look past such obvious red flags though his looks tried to deceive you, you finally broke free of his tight grasp and shoved him back a few feet with shaky hands. You kept your hands outstretched in front of you, though you trembled in fear, and spoke in a fake strong voice, “That’s it, Hawks, we’re done, even though there’s nothing really to be done with in the first place. No more dates, no more hanging out, just flat out don’t talk to me ever again, okay? You see me on the street, walk the other way. I sincerely wish you the best with your dating life, but here’s a tip for the next person you seek out, don’t go poking your head into their personal life until you two are more than close. Goodbye, Keigo.” you finished, breaking out into a sprint towards the train station, leaving a flabbergasted Hawks in the dust.
Keigo stood where you had just been and simply stared at your retreating form as you sped off into the night. His eyes glazed over in pure jealousy and rage as his wings poofed up behind him to physically show his anguish. He stood under the buzzing streetlamp for a couple minutes more, processing the information, until he let out a small snicker. His snickering turned into giggling, escalating to laughter, and finally into an uncontrollable hollering. He bent over himself in the fit of insanity and after gulping down the lost air in his lungs as he looked back up to the place where you had previously stood with a menacing glint sparking in his honey-colored eyes.
“(Y/N)’s just...confused...yeah. Yeah! My god, how didn’t I see it before?! I’m such a bad boyfriend! But I can fix this,” Hawks shakily straightened back up and pulled his jacket tighter to himself, smoothing down his ruffled hair and wings, “Yeah, I can fix this.” He concluded to the empty air with a satisfied hum.
“Don’t worry, (Y/N), Keigo’s here to save you yet again~,” Hawks’ crazed smile flashed in the night as he flipped down his wind-resistant glasses.
~
~ Timeskip to 10 minutes later and we’re with you! ~
~
You panted for air as your run slowed into a brisk walk yet again. Now about a half a mile away from the complete psycho you had been with, you felt much safer now than any time you’d ever been around him, pro hero or not. You swiveled around on your feet and looked behind you as you walked down the street backwards, taking careful steps and surveying the area to make sure that weirdo hadn’t followed you. No one behind you on the lonely road, no one hiding in the allies or on the rooftops you could see, and no bird brain flying behind you in the air. It was almost eerie how alone you were but you still smiled, finally free.
“Thank goodness, that was getting awkward. I’ve really gotta stop letting guys with pretty faces fool me into a date.” you huffed to yourself as you remained walking backwards. Pulling out your smartphone from your jacket pocket, you swiped through your device and pushed on the phone app to call your mom to let her know that instead of heading back to your apartment you’d like to spend the night with them, no doubt in your mind that if Hawks was determined enough he probably would have scoped out your place already since ‘heroes have connections’ and all.
As you tried to press the ‘call’ button, you heard the sound of something swiftly cutting through the air behind you but before you had time to react your phone was launched out of your loose grip. You watched as the fast moving object shot and stuck into the ground, having entirely pierced through your phone and the solid cement, rendering the device useless. Nothing but fear raced through your veins as you recognized the weapon as one of Hawks’ scarlet feathers you had happily stroked not so long ago.
Before you could book it once more down the empty street, you felt two strong arms wrap around your arms and torso. You yelped as they constricted around you like a snake wrapping around its prey and began wildly thrashing your legs, trying to wiggle your way out of your captor’s hold. You heard the “hero” sweetly coo in your ear, almost like he was trying to calm a restless baby, and you suddenly felt big gusts of wind push around your body and through your desperate squirming you realized that you were no longer on the ground.
“Relax, baby bird,” Keigo sighed in content as he swung your body up and into his arms, pinning your arms to your side and carrying you like a royal being saved by their knight, “We’re just going back home so you can...calm down a little! You’ve been under such stress lately, haven’t you? That’s probably why you lashed out! I’m so sorry for not noticing sooner, love.” Tears of frustration blurred your vision as your legs thrashed as hard as they could, but nothing could loosen the man’s tense grip.
“Let me go, you...you psychopath!” you screamed out, fast wind whipping past your face as Keigo sped back to your prison.
“Awe~, (Y/N), don’t cry,” Hawks nuzzled your head, a purr rumbling in the back of his throat as one of his feathers brushed away the tears dripping past your cheeks, “Your hero will take care of everything now~!”
~
~ The End ~
~
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