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kimsohn · 8 months

Text

it takes 2 to mango

pairing . beomgyu x gn! reader (ft. yunjin of le sserafim) about . 12.2k words, fluff + angst warnings . cursing, a lot of food mentions, kissing, mentions of murder/dying (it's all jokes), y/n is in denial half the time (about beomgyu and mangoes), it took me like 2 months to write this so it may be all over the place i'm sorry in advance

synopsis . after your parents drop you off at your aunt's, leaving you with your whole life packed in bags, all you can do is wonder when you'll finally be able to get back to your old life. except, of course, when a brown-haired boy makes you wonder if staying here isn't so bad after all. note . literally after 2 years of delay and many plot changes it's finally here!! happy (late) birthday @urmelo, i told you i would write it and it's here (albeit two months late but wtv). also i literally wrote this whole thing based on this image but halfway through i realized he's sitting in a classroom so my whole broadcast idea was stupid 😞 and this is slightly inspired by all of us are dead and f4thailand! i stole the mango pun from google tagging . @invuwrld @tocupid @mmmsvnts @seung-scrittore

You have never loathed mangoes more than this moment.

It’s only been a couple of hours since your parents dropped you off at your aunt’s house, your whole life packed into suitcases and a Hello Kitty backpack you’ve owned since fifth grade, and you’re already sick of this situation. You don’t even understand your parents’ thought process, because who would even leave their whole life behind to start a mango supply business in Thailand, and you’re even angrier at your aunt for encouraging it. Now, you’re forced to leave behind the comfort of your old life and start anew in the four walls of your new house, miles away from your parents and old friends.

You even hate the stupid smile on your mom’s face when you agreed to their plan. At least you’ll be somewhat rich when your parents decide to come home, however long that might take (hopefully it’s within the next five minutes or so).

“Y/N, let me know if you want to paint your walls, okay? Your uncle loves interior design, so he’ll be happy to organize your room.”

In your old house, your walls were a bright, cheery yellow. Now they’re a boring beige, reminiscent of the hospital walls you’ve always hated. It’s okay though, because now yellow will remind you of mangoes, and you’re just about ready to hurl something at the mere thought of the fruit.

“It’s okay Auntie,” you respond, tracing your finger across the indents of the walls, “I kind of like the beige.”

Your cousin Yeonjun snickers from behind your aunt, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. Yeonjun is definitely the type to hate beige because even his personality shines a bright red flag. Even now, he’s on his phone, probably flirting with (code word for annoying) some poor soul.

“Okay, honey. Yeonjun can help you finish unpacking, and then he can take you to school so you can find your classes. Tomorrow is your first day, after all, I don’t want you to get lost.”

With that, she closes the door behind you, leaving the two of you in your drab room with no personality. Instead of helping you unpack, Yeonjun sits on the chair in the corner, typing away with no care in his mind.

“I thought you were supposed to help?” you huff, though it’s not angrily.

Even though you and your cousin were friends, at first forcibly due to your family relations and later willingly because he’s actually quite interesting, you know that he won’t hesitate to note whatever he can to have leverage over you. Already, he’s taken a picture of your backpack, and if he helps you unpack, he’ll definitely find the shark plushie you brought for the sentiment. It’s not out of malice; it’s just the way your relationship is, however annoying it may be.

“Like you need my help,” he scoffs, crossing one leg over the other as a means to get comfortable, “just let me know when you’re done.”

You survey the mess of your belongings scattered across the bed. It’ll probably take hours, if not days, to sort out properly, and even you are itching to leave this stuffy room and get some fresh air. You’ve sorted out what you need for the next few days, so you might as well revisit this mess later.

“Actually, we can go now. I kind of need a break anyway.”

“Goody-two-shoes Y/N needs a break? Are you in your rebel era?” he jokes, but he opens the door and sticks a leg out, leaving it open for you to walk through.

You smack him on the shoulder as you walk to his car, sitting shotgun and itching to put your feet on the dash. You’re an average kid and you do average things, but you’re not in the mood to argue and correct your cousin.

“Just shut up and drive.”

You kind of wish you stayed at home because even mangoes wouldn’t survive in this environment.

Actually, there’s nothing wrong with your new school. It seems even more modern and spacious than your old one, and it has way more amenities than you could even imagine. You can see yourself fitting in here quite well, and since Yeonjun is popular, it’ll be easy to make friends.

The only problem is that the air conditioner isn’t working today, which means it’s extremely hot in the building. The hot sun outside paired with the lack of cool air means the whole building could resemble the Sahara Desert, and you wish you’d worn something more fitting for the weather, like the tank top Yeonjun has on right now (although, he seems to have other motives for wearing it). The sweat beads trickle down your forehead, and the only thing saving you right now is the popsicle your cousin was kind enough to buy for you. Unluckily, the gas station only had the mango flavor left.

“Yeonjun, are we done yet?” you ask, although it sounds more like a plea as you trudge along the hallways.

“Actually, no. We still have the science hallway, and the math hallway, and—”

A shrill noise fills the air, and you cover your ears shut and watch Yeonjun’s popsicle fall from his hands. Startled, the two of you find stability against the wall as the sound disappears and is replaced with crackling noises.

“Fuck, my popsicle!” Yeonjun exclaims, looking extremely disappointed as he grabs a tissue and cleans the mess up.

“Forget the popsicle, what was that? It’s a Sunday, who’s playing with the speakers?”

“It’s probably the media team preparing for the week’s announcements. Come, I’ll show you the broadcast studio.”

Yeonjun’s flip-flops squeak across the floor as you two walk, and in a matter of minutes, you reach a bright blue door next to the auditorium. Big block letters indicating which room it is are engraved on top, and Yeonjun knocks on the door repeatedly until it opens.

“I knew it was you,” a blue-haired boy answers, “you’re the only one annoying enough to knock that many times.”

“Hey! You should’ve answered faster.” Yeonjun protests as you giggle, glad you’re not the only one who finds your cousin annoying.

The boy pouts as he lets you two inside, and immediately you feel like you were cast into a recording studio. Shelves of CDs and books fill the sides, and behind the glass panel, a room full of microphones and levers peeks through. You feel like Radio Rebel in her bedroom, only intensified, and as you check out the large computer screens that line the walls, you find yourself imagining sitting in the center and being a part of whatever goes on behind the scenes here.

Your eyes cross over a brown-haired boy sitting at the table, headphones covering his plush hair and a teal highlighter in his hand. He’s looking down at a piece of paper, probably a script, and unknowingly you’re leaning forward to get a better look at his face before Yeonjun taps your shoulder and you straighten yourself.

“Y/N, this is Soobin,” Yeonjun gestures to the blue-haired boy, “and that over there is Beomgyu,” he continues, pointing to the boy at the desk.

Soobin smiles warmly, shaking your hand awkwardly as if this was a courthouse and not a classroom, but your eyes are more focused on Beomgyu. They’re focused on the way he taps the highlighter on his lips when he’s deep in thought, or when he adjusts his headphones when he’s satisfied with something. Yeonjun moves to interrupt him, probably to introduce you, but you hold him back so he can continue his work.

“Are you interested in joining?” Soobin asks, handing you a flyer, “we could always use more people.”

“I’m not that much of a speaker,” you respond, taking the handout anyway.

“You don’t need to be. We do more here than just talk, you know?”

As Soobin waves you goodbye, you take one last glance at the room, particularly Beomgyu, before you step out. You don’t know for sure whether you’ll join the club or not, but you have a feeling that you’ll be seeing him around pretty soon.

You might hate your alarm clock more than you hate mangoes, but at least it’s useful.

It’s the first day at your new school, but you’re not really jumping for joy. School is school wherever you go, and you don’t really feel the excitement or jitters someone would usually feel after transferring. You’re just about ready to pass through the rest of the year as smoothly as possible and hopefully not gain unwanted attention as the resident new kid. You’re already suffering enough by joining after a whole semester; you don’t need to bring any more trouble to yourself.

“Y/N, are you ready?” Yeonjun yells from outside the house, revving the accelerator so you can hear his annoyance.

“Coming!” you yell back, grabbing your bag and rushing out the door, holding a half-eaten piece of toast and a glass of orange juice.

Yeonjun likes to go to school a little early so he can talk to his friends, but this was a fact you didn’t know until five minutes ago. In an ideal situation, you wouldn’t have been rushing on your first day, but your cousin never makes things easy for you. At least he didn’t drive off without you.

Yeonjun attempts to lecture you about your lateness in the car, but you tell him to pay attention to the road and stuff the toast in your mouth. One thing you won’t let your cousin disturb you about is food, so you’re glad he calms down and lets you enjoy a peaceful ride to school.

You’re finishing your orange juice as he pulls into the student parking lot. He has a spot reserved for him, apparently, and the fact seems to be true as he parks in the space with “YEONJUN” decorated in bright red spray-paint letters. He puts on sunglasses as he exits the car, and you’re extremely glad he doesn’t have fans swooning over him in front of his car because you don’t know how much more you can take. Who does he think he is?

Thankfully, the air conditioner seems to be working this time around because as soon as you enter through the front doors, a blast of cool air hits you in the face. It’s only January, but the sun outside doesn’t seem to be taking a break this week, so you’re grateful for the human wonder that is A/C. Yesterday’s empty halls are now filled with students, and already Yeonjun is dragging you off to introduce you to some new people. You’re just glad he has pink hair because otherwise, you would’ve lost him.

By the time you reach your first class, your mind is riddled with names of people you’ll probably never talk to again. You’ve met at least three Jaehyuns, a Yunjin and a Yujin and another Han Yujin, two Jisungs, and many more students you definitely won’t remember. If you were on your own, it would’ve taken you a whole year to talk to this many people, but with a semi-superstar by your side, it only took ten minutes. You’re just glad your presence seems to be well-received.

Your first class is math, and already you find yourself falling asleep. A stack of books finds its way onto your desk, a textbook for everything you could need, and you can foresee yourself sleeping in to skip this terrible class. The only good sight about this class is Mr. Kim, who’s nice and tries to be entertaining, but there are only so many ways you can make numbers and formulas fun. At least the girl sitting in front of you, Yunjin from earlier, helps you pass the time by doodling her number on the margins of your notebook.

Bored and half asleep, you trudge your way to your second class, history. You’re grateful your cousin helped you find your way across the school yesterday, because your class is across the school in a corner you wouldn’t have even known existed. Unlucky for you, Mrs. Jung isn’t as nice or entertaining as Mr. Kim, but just before you can succumb to slumber, the intercom buzzes.

The morning announcements play, but instead of Soobin’s voice, you hear someone unfamiliar.

“Hey everyone, happy Monday! It’s the beginning of the week, which means we have a long road ahead, but I believe in each and every one of you to get through it. We’re only a couple of weeks from break, which is an exciting thought to look forward to…”

You realize halfway through that the voice is Beomgyu’s, and you don’t know what it is about his voice, but it seems to be perfect for starting off the announcements. He seems to be tasked with maybe a desperate attempt to cheer up the student body on a dreary Monday, but they seem to be doing the job because you feel much lighter than before the announcements. Others seem to feel the same way too, because the atmosphere in the once stale, cornered history classroom is now bright and jolly. You honestly wish you had listened to the full script he had prepared, but either because of your previous fascination or his soft, honeylike voice, you find it hard not to be lulled to dreamland.

After, he's followed by Soobin, who talks about the daily updates and the weather, and you wonder how he manages to sound so upbeat and cheery this early in the morning. He then passes the mic to a boy named Taehyun, who voices important announcements and leads the school pledge before the mic crackles off.

You can’t stop thinking about Beomgyu for the rest of the class period, so when he slides into the empty seat next to you halfway through the lesson, you think you must be imagining things. It’s like he’s glowing, as if a dreamy filter spans across his face. You stare at him until he stares back and raises an eyebrow, a quirk to show his feelings of confusion. He throws a rolled-up piece of paper at you, and when you catch it, you realize he’s very much real.

Bit by bit, you unfold the paper, and in scratchy handwriting, he’s written ‘Am I that interesting?’ in all caps. Your face feels like it’s on fire, and you tuck the paper in between the crease of your notebook, filled with doodles of Beomgyu’s name. You quickly shut it, hoping he didn’t see it, and avoid his gaze for the rest of the period.

Unluckily for you, fate doesn’t seem to be on your side because as soon as the bell rings, Beomgyu is reaching out to grab your elbow. You think you’re utterly and absolutely fucked, and you’re even more mortified when he links elbows with you and leads you out of the classroom.

“What’s your next class?” he prods, and you only answer after he asks a second time because you’re too embarrassed to register anything.

“English, with Mr. Yoon. Look, I’m sorry about before, I thought I was dreaming—”

“Dreaming? Are you in love with me or something?” he asks, and even though the question is accusatory, his smooth voice makes it sound like music to your ears.

“No!” you exclaim, a little too loudly that you have to apologize to the teachers standing in the hallway before continuing, “Look, I was falling asleep in Mrs. Jung’s class, okay? Since the seat next to me was empty beforehand, I thought you were a random daydream that I was making up to distract myself. I genuinely didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable with my staring or anything, I just didn’t know you were real until you threw that ball at me.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” he responds, his features softening at your explanation, “her class is pretty boring anyway. You’re new here, right? Yeonjun’s cousin? I’m Beomgyu.”

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too. You’re a little weird, you know that?” he remarks, laughing as he walks you to class.

You look down at your linked elbows and his goofy skipping. His observance is contradictory, but somehow, his weirdness is a little endearing to refute.

“Yeah, but you’re a little weird too. We cancel each other out, I guess.”

As soon as you step into the production room, you’re cast with the smell of mangoes. Seriously, those damned fruits seem to be following you, and you can never seem to escape them.

“Y/N! Hi! Welcome!” Soobin greets, ushering you into the room and grabbing you a seat, “We’re so happy to have you.”

It’s the next Thursday, a week after the dreaded daydream incident, and you’ve decided to show up to the broadcast meetings. You’ve been toying with the idea of joining ever since you walked into the room on Sunday, but it was Beomgyu’s insistence yesterday that really pushed you over the cliff of uncertainty.

“We have a lot of fun there. You don’t even have to speak on the morning announcements to be a part of it! We do much more than that, like run the newspaper and manage the yearbook. There’s a place for everyone, Y/N, you won’t regret joining.”

Even now, he waves warmly from the seat next to you. You’ve been talking frequently these days, partially because he’s in quite a few of your classes and partially because he’s part of a group chat Yeonjun added you to. He’s interesting to talk to and he always makes you laugh, and being around him makes you feel warm and fuzzy. Like your initial observance, he’s a little weird and goofy too, but it makes him all the more delightful.

You’re not crushing on him, of course. He’s a nice person to pass the time with during and after school. Besides, your friends at home are much better; he’s just a placeholder.

“Have some cake, Y/N!” Soobin insists, pushing a plate toward you, “It’s mango flavored!”

You smile hesitantly as you pick up the spoon and take a bite. It tastes good and you hate admitting it because mango is a good flavor; you just don’t like being reminded of the sentiment that comes along with it. You gaslight yourself into thinking it’s strawberry and finish the plate quickly, downing your water bottle straight after.

“Was it good?” Beomgyu asks, his voice a little hard to hear due to the conversations of next week’s script being tossed around behind him, “I got it from a bakery near my house. We actually have a snack at every club meeting, and this week was my turn to bring it.”

“Yeah, it was good. I’m just not really fond of mango,” you respond, already cringing at the words coming out of your mouth.

“You don’t like mango? Who doesn’t like mango?” Beomgyu voices, responding exactly how you expected him to.

“Me. I just don’t.”

Beomgyu drops the topic at your insistence and talks about the club instead, introducing you to some of the members. Taehyun, the boy from the announcements, is president, and Soobin is vice president. You learn that Beomgyu does a little bit of everything, and you try not to smile as he blushes when his friends list out his talents.

“Is Yeonjun not part of the club?” you ask after he’s introduced you to one of the many Jaehyuns part of the management team, “you guys seem to be good friends.”

“He was initially, but he has modeling lessons on Thursday so he can’t make it. He’s more like an honorary member, to be honest, but he helps us out a lot.”

You hum in agreement, meeting another Jaehyun (why are they all so attractive?) and rounding the corner to talk to Taehyun.

“I’ll leave you with Tae. He’ll help you figure out which team you’re best suited for.”

Taehyun pulls out a chair for you as Beomgyu walks away, and you can immediately see why he’s president. He’s a little reserved but he’s domineering, and he seems perfect for managing things behind and in front of the scenes.

“So, Y/N, did you have anything in mind when you were joining?”

“No, not really. I’m not very talkative though, and I don’t know how to handle a camera.”

“Yeah, Beomgyu also mentioned those things. I think you’ll be a good fit for the newspaper, based on first impression. Editors mostly work on the scripts and I think you’ll find it interesting. Come, I’ll introduce you to the head.”

He introduces you to Yunjin, the girl from your math class, and she helps you get the editing software and drive set up. Yunjin tells you that she’s the type of person who has a lot to say, and writing is a powerful outlet for her because it allows her to explore topics she’s passionate about. You don’t exactly know if you relate to her thought process, but it does make you feel a little excited.

“Is Beomgyu also part of the editing team?” you ask, mainly out of curiosity because you saw him revising the script on Sunday.

“Ah, kind of. He floats around between everything so I guess I could say that he is. Would you like to read some of his work?” she asks, pulling out a newspaper article from a stack in the corner, “Last issue, he wrote the front page spread dissing the school lunch menu. It might seem silly, but it was actually a huge hit, and honestly, the food has even gotten better since.”

You skim through the newspaper, and the interactive, colorful parts draw your gaze in. Elements like the pie chart, bolded words, and quotes make the article worth reading, and you can already tell from skimming the text that Beomgyu is a good writer. You flip through the rest, reading the story headlines and noting that some are serious, some are current, and some are merely just for entertainment. Even throughout the rest of the spreads, you can tell the writers put effort into making sure the newspaper is actually catered to the student population, and you can already imagine yourself publishing an issue of your own in the near future.

“Since you’re new, you can help Beomgyu out with his new piece. Let’s take things slow, okay?”

You nod, turning to face Beomgyu. You don’t know what’s going on in that fascinating mind of his, but you’re excited to find out.

It’s been a busy few weeks since you’ve moved here. Unfortunately, school doesn’t slow down time for you, so you’ve had to handle piles of schoolwork on top of adjusting to your new environment, at school, and at home. Your aunt, for one, is double the amount of hyper your parents were, and it’s taken you a while to get adjusted to her presence. At least you’ve had Yeonjun to help you out.

The one thing that you’ve actually looked forward to at school is the broadcast club. Taehyun was right about you fitting the editor role, and you’ve grown to fit in quite well with the other members. Mainly, however, you spend most of your time with Beomgyu, often looking over his shoulder and bouncing off ideas he has and grammatical errors he needs to fix. The issue is a little satirical, making it fun to read, and you’ve enjoyed helping him out because he actually values your input and your experiences.

It's the reason why he invited you to come to school on Sunday. He thought working in a quieter environment would help you two brainstorm better, and you agreed. You’ve been busy all week working on collecting student opinions for him, and today, he hopes you two can get a significant portion of the article complete.

Unlike the first Sunday you were here, the air conditioning is actually on now, but you still feel a little sweat prickling at the top of your forehead. You’re nervous because this is the first time you’ve actually been alone with Beomgyu, without anyone else nearby to mitigate your nerves. You’re scared about screwing up in front of him, or even worse, floating off into dreamland, but hopefully, you’ll be able to concentrate on your work and keep your thoughts at bay. If anything goes wrong, you can just blame it on his sweet voice.

You’re at least thankful Yeonjun hasn’t caught wind of how you two met, because he would never stop holding it over your head.

You knock three times on the blue door and Beomgyu pulls it open, wearing a bright grin on his face. He’s in a hoodie and sweats, a little bit more casual than his school attire, but somehow it just makes him more attractive. Combined with his dimples, he resembles a teddy bear, and you’re honestly surprised he hasn’t joined the modeling industry like your cousin. He’d make so much money as a loungewear model, you just know it.

“Hey, come in! I just got here, so I’ve been working on some scripts for the next week. You can get your stuff sorted while I finish.”

You nod, pulling the papers out of your bag and opening your laptop. Your mission for the week was to interview students regarding the article. You don’t know if he’ll like them, but hopefully, you’ve got some good anecdotes for Beomgyu to include in his writing.

Or, apparently not.

“Beomgyu.”

“Hmm?” he asks, looking up from his paper.

“I accidentally grabbed Yeonjun’s bag. I left the data at home, I’m so, so sorry. I can’t believe how stupid I am; how could I even forget something this important?”

“Hey, Y/N,”

“I just knew something was going to go wrong today, and I was so scared I was going to fuck things up and I did, and—”

“Y/N!”

You stop in your tracks, eyes wide and close to tears. You’re usually not this sensitive at all, but this means a lot to you, working with Beomgyu means a lot to you, and you don’t want to lose all of this over your stupidity and inattentiveness. However, Beomgyu looks far from angry, and he has his hands on your shoulders, rubbing them to calm you down.

“It’s okay. You’re all good. We have so much more time until the deadline, so don’t beat yourself up, okay? We can just hang out and have fun. Look, I even brought you some mochi from the corner store!”

He shows you the packet, and the bright yellow color is enough to have you burst into tears.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks, looking at the packet, “it’s mango flavored. Oh! You don’t like mango. I’m so sorry, it slipped my mind. Forgive me?”

You sniffle, bringing him into a hug. The mochi wrapper crinkles between you as you put your head on his shoulder, clutching onto him as a means to calm you down. Beomgyu stills for a moment, probably out of shock before patting your back, albeit awkwardly yet reassuring.

“Sorry,” you mumble, “I didn’t mean to have a breakdown like that. I just didn’t want you to hate me. And I’ll eat the mango mochi, don’t worry.”

“I could never hate you, Y/N.”

“You’ve only known me for a couple of weeks; how could you say that?”

“Because even in the short time I’ve known you, I can tell how much of an amazing person you are. You’re bright and talented, and I love spending time with you, so stop apologizing, okay? It was just an accident.”

“Okay, I will,” you whisper, stepping back, “So, what now?”

“We could finish the mochi, for starters.”

You nod as you open the wrapper and take a bite. It’s tasty, so much so that you hate it, and you’re honestly five seconds away from letting go of your stupid grudge just to enjoy some fresh mango. However, your parents have plagued you enough with the fruit on their phone calls, which seems to hold your desires back well enough.

You stand to your feet as Beomgyu beckons you to follow him, wanting to show you something. He lets you in through the small door leading to the glass panel room, and you’re immediately illuminated by the huge screens around you. So much technology surrounds you, from microphones to switches to headphones, but you’re more intrigued by the feedback noise that emits once Beomgyu twists a knob, similar to the one you heard when you first got here.

“Does it usually make that noise when you turn it on?” you ask, walking around the room.

“Yeah, it’s a little bit annoying. That’s why we have to keep it turned on before school starts.”

“I figured. I heard it when I came here with Yeonjun before my first day.”

Beomgyu turns to you with an expression of mild surprise.

“I think Soobin and I were here that day. You should’ve visited us.”

“We did. We talked to Soobin, but you were working on something so we didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Is that why you thought I was in your daydream the day after?”

You feel like you’re on fire, and you look away from him. You didn’t expect Beomgyu to be this perceptive, but it was probably your fault for walking straight into this.

“Umm. Yeah, kind of. It’s embarrassing,” you say, covering your face with your palms.

“It’s not,” he responds, tapping your shoulder, “it’s actually kind of cute. Now that you’re in this room with me again, will I be in another one of your daydreams? I loved feeling like a celebrity.”

You mentally shrivel in humiliation, cringing when he lets out a laugh. If Yeonjun is a tease, then Beomgyu is most definitely a menace.

You are extremely close to falling asleep.

Currently, you’re sunbathing on one of Yunjin’s many beach chairs. They’re colorful and the sun shines ever so gently on your face, so the setting is perfect for you to take a nap. Too bad you’re at a pool party and not in your backyard, and Yunjin just might murder you if you drift off to dreamland after all the hard work you’d put into setting things up.

It’s spring break, which means one whole week of warm sun rays and well-needed rest. The newest issue of the magazine was published yesterday, and particularly this time around, it seemed to be quite popular amongst the student population. The group decided to throw a party to celebrate all the hard work that’s gone into publishing, and what other location would it be at than Yunjin’s gigantic mansion?

You’re particularly proud of Beomgyu’s hard work because his spread was absolutely stunning, but he merely brushed it off and thanked you for helping him when you thanked him earlier. He can be calm and graceful like that at times, like a soft breeze. Now, however, you turn to your side to see him sipping a mocktail on the chair next to you, donned in sunglasses and shark-decorated swim shorts, the farthest thing from serene.

“What flavor is that?” you ask, your voice tinged with sleep, “Actually, never mind. It’s probably mango.”

He laughs, and it’s so, so pretty. If you had to pick one sound to hear for the rest of your life, you’d take your chances on that.

“It is, but it’s kind of watery. I’m gonna save it for later though,” he starts, turning to face the pool and pointing at Taehyun.

“What about him?” you ask, craning your head to see him lounging in the pool with a duck floatie.

“If I cannonball into the pool, just how drenched do you think he’ll be?”

Your cries are practically unheard as you watch Beomgyu jump into the pool, absolutely obliterating not only Taehyun but also poor, unsuspecting Soobin next to him. Ten minutes later, after receiving a well-deserved scolding from Taehyun and issuing apologies, Beomgyu slogs his way back to the chair on your left with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“That was definitely worth it.”

“It definitely was not,” you counter, sitting up and leaning against the back, “you’re literally such a nuisance. If I had known you were this terrible, I would not have become friends with you.”

“I mean, you technically didn’t choose. You can’t really help who you daydream about, right?”

You’re glaring daggers into him, but he’s cruel enough to still find the situation funny. You can’t believe he’s trying to hold back laughter even in this situation, but you probably shouldn’t have expected any better. Seriously, how did he go from the sweet-talker broadcast boy to the literal devil?

“Watch your words, or I will slice you up as I did to all the mangoes in Fruit Ninja last week.”

“Woah, chill,” he starts, putting his sunglasses back on and taking a sip of his watery mocktail, “why do you even hate mangoes? You talk about them as if they were your exes.”

“My parents left me here to start a mango business in Thailand,” you say, picking at the skin next to your thumbnail and wincing when it hurts.

Beomgyu spits out his drink in alarm, but you kind of saw it coming. You’ve noticed that he tends to exaggerate things a lot, but you guess it’s just part of his personality.

“Wow, that genuinely sucks. I’m really sorry; I shouldn’t have prodded.”

“It’s okay. I don’t tell people because it’s only temporary. I might not even be here next year.”

Two months ago, you would’ve been happy at the thought. Now, however, even mentioning it brings a pang of sadness to your chest. You’ve known your time here was momentary all along, so why do you feel guilty?

“Are you happy?” he says, his voice a lot quieter now, “I mean, would you want to stay here or go back?”

You want to tell him what you think is logical, and logically, your old home was much better than here. You practically grew up there, and the place suits you so well that you’re meant to be there. However, the words that rush out of your heart speak differently.

“I honestly don’t know. I like it here, but I like it there too. I’ll just enjoy my time here before I leave. I still have a while anyway.”

Beomgyu flips to the other side, away from your gaze before he speaks. If you weren’t listening carefully, you might’ve not been able to hear his words.

“I don’t want you to leave. I like it when you’re here.”

He sounds so soft and clingy that it almost makes you cry. Instantly, you know that no one has ever cared enough to share the same sentiment back at your old house.

Home. You should’ve called it home, but it doesn’t feel right anymore. You used to think that home was a physical feeling, a place where you were raised and nurtured. Home before was the walls of the building you spend the most time in, but now, it feels a little different.

No, home isn’t your old house. It isn’t your new house either, even if the beige has grown quite well to your liking. Home is sitting here on this beach chair, surrounded by your closest friends, and the feelings of warmth that surround you all. Home is an emotion, something you’ve never felt in the past years of your life until you moved here. Home is being surrounded by people who want you, just because you’re you and not because it would be convenient.

“I like being here too,” you whisper back, and although he has his back turned to you, you can still feel his smile.

“Then just tell your parents you want to stay here.”

You can’t tell him that your mindset has made you feel that this is all temporary. Ever since you moved here, you’ve felt like a ticking bomb, waiting for a single phone call to determine your fate. Once, you would’ve been able to answer that it’s where you belong. Now, you seem to question if it’s merely just an obligation.

“It’s not that simple, Beomgyu.”

He sighs, and as he turns back around to face you, you drape an arm over your eyes. You don’t want to feel the intensity of his glare, but even without your vision, you feel his eyes shooting daggers into your abdomen. If only life were as easy as being able to sense Beomgyu’s responses, for you would’ve been sipping margaritas on some island with your talents.

“Isn’t it? Or maybe, just maybe, you’re overcomplicating it.”

You sigh, unwilling to answer, and the conversation falls to a standstill. You hate thinking, especially about this, but eventually, Beomgyu’s words are going to catch up to you. Whatever the implications of this conversation are, you’re sure you won’t enjoy them.

Not one bit.

You’re walking home with Beomgyu a couple of days after break has ended, an unfamiliar scene for you. Usually, Yeonjun drives you home in his shiny car, but he had to stay back for some tutoring today and you were left ride-less. Thankfully, Beomgyu swooped in to save the day, saying he’d keep you company since he knew the route. You’d accepted quite freely, definitely because you didn’t want to rely on Google Maps and not because you liked spending time with him.

Spring is in full season, which means the walk home is filled with greenery and a lush breeze. You feel like something out of a Studio Ghibli movie, but as you turn to look at Beomgyu, you realize he’s more aptly fitted for the scenario.

His hair is fluttering slightly through the wind, and his side profile is so perfect that only an animation artist could’ve crafted it. Beautiful is the only word to describe him, and each glance you take becomes increasingly hard to look away from.

You like him. It’s not a realization that’s come from this moment, but rather a million moments beforehand. Whenever you try to pinpoint an exact moment, your mind runs blank, as if you were pre-programmed to have him in your heart since the beginning of your existence. You’d just been so immersed in convincing yourself that you didn’t that you never really accepted you did.

“Y/N,” you hear from his lips, “are you going to the spring dance?”

The spring dance is next week, and it’s all everyone has been talking about lately, especially Yunjin. Honestly, if the Jung Jaehyun asked you out (yes, you can finally differentiate between the multiple Jaehyuns), you wouldn’t shut up about it either, but you don’t have any interest in it otherwise. The only updates you hear are when you don’t tone out Yunjin in math (there’s only so much you can hear about his features), and you’re growing quite sick of the talk.

Mainly though, you’re just annoyed you have to go without a date. A certain someone always pops up in your mind when you think about the event, but you’re too shy to ask and he seems to be preoccupied with other things. Even if it’s going just as friends, you’d take the chance, but it doesn’t seem in your cards for the near future.

“Yeonjun is forcing me to. I’d much rather spend my Friday nights with a show, but it is what it is.”

“Oh, come on!” he protests, shaking his head, “it’s always super fun. You won’t regret coming.”

“I guess, but I don’t really know who to go with. Yeonjun has a date, and I don’t want to be a third wheel.”

Beomgyu fishes something out of his pockets and holds it out to you. Upon closer inspection, you realize it’s a rectangular mango drink, and you raise an eyebrow.

“I know, I know, but it’s still driving me crazy that you hate mango. I want to be the person that changes your opinion on it, okay? Whenever you think of mango, don’t think of your parents, think of me!”

You roll your eyes as you grab the drink and punch the straw in. You don’t want to admit it, but the gesture is sweet, and already your negative thinking is rewriting itself to include positive memories with Beomgyu.

“Whatever,” you say, attempting to take a sip out of the straw only to find it stuck, “is there something wrong with your straw? Mine isn’t working.”

“No, there isn’t,” he replies, confusion settling across his face, “is it blocked? There might be something inside.”

Sure enough, you peek through the hole to see something white stuck in the straw, and you try your hardest to pull it out with your fingers. The texture is a little rough and thin, almost paper-like, but sadly you fail to get it out.

“Can you actually not get it out?” he asks, looking worried.

“Yeah, but it’s not that big of a deal. I’ll just get another straw after I get home.”

“This cannot be happening right now.” he mutters, grabbing it from you and trying his hardest to squeeze out the object, “Of course I fucked this up.”

“Beomgyu, it’s okay. Relax. It’s not that big of a deal,” you respond, trying to calm him down after seeing him get this worked up, “it’s just a drink.”

“But it’s not! Ugh,” he says, frustrated as he pulls out his phone, “you were supposed to be able to pull out the paper.”

“What are you talking about?”

He passes over his phone to you, and there’s a picture of a small piece of paper on it. When you zoom in to get a better look at the writing on it, you gasp.

“It takes two to mango, so will you be my partner?” you read out loud, looking at Beomgyu.

He smiles awkwardly, shrugging his shoulders.

“You’re asking me to be your date for the dance? Oh my god, yes!”

You hug him tightly, pressing your head into the crook of his shoulder. You don’t know if his intentions behind this are friendly or romantic, but the mere thought of being together, even just for a night, has you reeling. You feel so, so giddy as if you’re already on the dance floor and swaying in his arms.

You feel him sigh in relief, hugging you back.

“I’m so sorry I fucked up everything. It was supposed to be super cute—”

“Don’t worry about it. Even if you just asked me the question, I would’ve been happy. It was so creative though; how’d you come up with it?”

“I, um. I searched it up,” he replies, and you hear the bashfulness in his voice, “I just wanted it to be meaningful enough to us. I know that it’s unoriginal, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Even just you researching to find something this creative is meaningful to me.” you answer honestly, “I’m saving that straw forever, I swear.”

He laughs, and you feel his chest vibrate against you. It’s a comforting feeling, one you’ll hopefully experience at the dance next week.

“I’m so excited. I can’t wait,” he whispers, pulling you in a little tighter.

“Yeah,” you whisper back, holding onto him, “Me too.”

The dance is a little lame, but being here with Beomgyu makes it worthwhile.

Seriously, if you’d come alone, you probably would’ve ended up sitting in the corner and munching on the brownies (they’re actually tasty, you can’t even deny it). However, Beomgyu has made it his personal mission for you to have fun, which is why he pulls you onto the dance floor to vibe with the beat of the song.

“This is so high school,” you mutter, feigning annoyance, “what song even is this?”

“I think it’s ‘Good Boy Gone Bad’ by TXT.”

“I’ve never heard of them.”

“Who cares? Stop being a downer and let loose a little.”

Contrary to your dislike, you do end up dancing. The song has a peppy beat and the two of you lose yourself in it, but even as you forget all of what occupies your brain, Beomgyu still remains in your head.

You’ll never forget the sparkling expression on his face when he saw your outfit as he picked you up from your house or the way he turned up your favorite song as you sped along to the venue. You would pay a million dollars just to relive that moment again, laughing at each other’s singing and enjoying each other’s company, but you realize that you don’t need to experience past moments with Beomgyu when he constantly makes better memories with you. With Beomgyu, you like living in the present, and he makes you forget about special days in the past you had coined as ‘the best day ever’ because nothing could compare to the feeling of being by his side like this.

The song ends, leaving you all woozy and excited, but the feelings quickly shift away when a much slower beat starts playing. You don’t even have to ask for the song name, because Beomgyu is already whispering it into your ear.

“’Fairy of Shampoo’ by the same artist. They’re pretty good, right?”

You move to nod, but the action is long forgotten as Beomgyu wraps his arms around your waist. He’s staring you in the eyes, a silent request for permission, and your response is wrapping your arms around his neck in a similar manner. You sway, and Beomgyu follows your lead, but this time around, the only thing you’re losing yourself in is his eyes.

The soft, angelic singing and chatter around you are muffled as if everyone in the room has disappeared except you and Beomgyu. You’re in a trance, with the perfect feeling of his arms around you as if they were always meant to be there. It’s so easy to will yourself away from everything to focus his gaze that you should be concerned, but one look at his eyes can confirm he’s in the same boat.

Maybe friends can ask each other out to dances. Maybe friends can slow-dance together. However, you find it hard to believe friends can look each other like this in the eyes and pretend they don’t feel anything.

Before you know it, the air grows hazy, and the only thing that makes your vision clearer is leaning in closer to Beomgyu. Or maybe that’s what’s making you crazy in the first place, but you don’t care because you’re trapped in the magnetic pull he emits that drives you closer, and closer, and closer. You’re close enough to notice the small moles on his cheek and the faint cologne he wears that smells like jasmine. You can’t even tell if you’re moving anymore because the only action you’re focused on is the fluttering of his eyelashes and the pursing of his lips.

It takes your brain a while to register what he says next because his voice is husky enough to be covered by the music, but the mere fact that his voice dropped three octaves has your mind spinning.

“Do you want this as badly as I do?”

Your throat is so parched you can’t even speak, but you don’t need words to imply what you want. You nod, the tiniest nod that if he wasn’t so focused, he wouldn’t have seen it, but his eyes are solely on you and that’s enough confirmation for him. The last thing you see is him leaning dangerously close before your eyes flutter shut, but the moment is ruined as your phone rings from your pocket and startles you both.

You fumble with the device as he clears his throat, leaning back, and with wide eyes, you see that it’s your mother calling. You’re cursing her mentally for calling at the worst possible time, but one look at Beomgyu has him motioning you off the dance floor.

“Take it; it’s probably important. I’ll be right here.”

You smile tightly before rushing off the dance floor, finding a place near the entrance that’s much quieter than the center. From this position, you have a straight view of Beomgyu in the middle, but you’re blocked by a sea of people surrounding him. It reminds you just how many obstacles you have between each other, and you mentally berate yourself for being so careless and almost kissing him before answering the phone.

“Hello? Mom?”

“Oh honey, hi! Your Auntie told me you were at some school dance, are you having fun?”

“I am,” you whisper back, just now realizing how much you miss your parents sending you off to these dances, “but I miss you a lot.”

“Actually, I called you about that!”

“What do you mean?”

“Our business here is doing so well that another company wants to buy us and give us a huge amount of shares. This means we can move back home and still make a profit!”

Your mom goes on about the logistics, but all you hear is white noise ringing through your ears. You knew this moment would creep up on you, but you just didn’t expect it so suddenly, especially after sharing such an intimate moment with Beomgyu. God, Beomgyu. How can you even begin to tell him?

“Mom, I have to go.”

“Of course, you must be busy! I’ll call you later, okay?”

Your fingers shake as you cut the call, tears brimming at the corner of your eyes. The room feels hazy once again, but this time, it feels suffocating. Your cheeks feel hot and you have no idea what to do, and all you can feel is Beomgyu’s gaze staring at you from across the room, boring into your eyes. All you can think is that he knows, and he hates you, and he’s going to feel so betrayed—

“Y/N? Are you okay?” you hear, and Yeonjun steps in front of you, blocking the connection between you and your crush.

“I- I need to go home. Please.”

You’re glad Yeonjun knows when to not be a nuisance, because all he does is nod wordlessly and clasp your palm, leading you to the car. You’re thankful that your cousin is actually a nice person deep down because he’s ditching his date and dropping his many it-boy moments just to take you home and let you cry on his shoulder. You try so, so hard not to look back because you know you’ll break down, but you can’t help what your heart wants. As you turn and make eye contact with Beomgyu, you see his confused and betrayed expression as he pushes past the people on the dance floor, but the crowd is too large, and he’s stuck between the masses. It’s bitter how these people once reminded you of obstacles, and now they’re exactly that, but you’re thankful because you’re sure you won’t be able to stop the tears if he talks to you right now.

As Yeonjun whisks you away in the dreary night, all you can hope is that Beomgyu remembers only the good moments between you, and not the worst. Maybe one day, just one, you hope he’ll forgive you, even though you know that you’ll never forgive yourself.

You have no heart to even attempt the history homework sitting on your desk.

It’s only been a week, but you feel like you went through five years of trauma from it alone. If it weren’t for Yeonjun, you would’ve locked yourself in your room the whole week and finished a bucket of ice cream. Instead, you showed up to class every day, draped in an oversized hoodie and making no means of eye contact with anyone. Any time you encountered Beomgyu, you tried your hardest to avoid it, even going as far as bargaining with your teacher to switch seats in history.

The only person you even talked to this week was your cousin. He was the only person you could confide in, probably because he was the only one who truly understood your current predicament. It’s silly, depending so much on the person who could use this as blackmail at any moment, but you have to say you’re a little grateful for him dragging you to school in the morning instead of leaving you to allow in the four walls of your bedroom.

However, even the motivation from Yeonjun can’t stop your bleeding heart. You feel like you’re going through hell and back, and with exams coming up your mind just isn’t in the right place. How long are you going to keep your homework sheets sitting on your table void of pencil markings? Even the mere act of reading the instructions has you tired, and all you can do is rest your head against the table and try not to let your thoughts drift off.

Even this homework reminds you of him. It reminds you of how you would goof off during your lectures, texting each other through the crevices of your desk, or how you would sit for long hours in the library and attempt to study, kicking each other’s feet beneath the table. Even now, you can hear him knocking on the door, asking you to open up and talk.

“Y/N, it’s Beomgyu!”

Okay, maybe that part isn’t your imagination.

Why is he even here? What business would he even want with you after you’ve wronged him so much? Your mind has no idea, but the only thing you’re listening to is your heart as you pull open the door and take in his presence.

He looks beautiful, like always. His existence is something that you want to cuddle into a ball and put in your pocket, yours to keep and cherish forever because he is simply the word soft personified. Today, however, he sports dark circles under his eyes and a paler shade of skin. What has made your teddy bear so sad? Is it your doing?

“Hi,” you whisper, and your hands itch to reach out and wrap him in a tight hug.

“Yeonjun told me what happened. I wanted to give you some space, but it’s torture without you.”

Now you’re confused. Why is he showing up at your door and giving you comfort? Isn’t he the one who has been wronged this whole time?

“You mean, you’re not mad at me?”

“Why would I be? It’s not your fault you need to move back. Sure, I’m sad about it, but this isn’t something you can control, right?”

Now, nothing stops you or your conscience as you wrap your arms around him, furrowing into his familiar scent as tears escape your eyes. You’ve done a lot of hugging recently, but this time, it feels like an eternity has gone by. You never want to let go of him or this moment, and you can even feel your mind memorizing every aspect of this moment.

You guess Beomgyu makes you feel that way. Mind and heart combined, with no conflict.

“You always know what to say,” you point out, sniffling.

“I’d hope so; I have to do it every Monday.”

You laugh, although it’s choked and dry from your crying, but as your head moves, you hear a crinkle from his back pocket.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, um,” he starts, grabbing the object out of his pocket, “they’re mango popsicles. I was going to try and bargain with you if this didn’t work out.”

“Hmm, well, I’m not really convinced yet,” you joke, motioning him to follow you and sit on your bed as he rolls his eyes.

Silence ensues for the next couple of seconds as you both open the wrappers and enjoy the delicacy. The flavor doesn’t even bother you anymore, because now when you think of mango, you think of Beomgyu. You think of his sweetness, his humor, and his bright sunshine personality that matches the color of the delightful fruit.

“Oh, Y/N, you have some juice dripping down your chin,” Beomgyu notices, pointing to the area.

“Where, here?” you ask, patting the left side and feeling its dryness, “or a little higher?”

“No, I- here,” he says, leaning closer with his thumb and brushing off the liquid.

You want to thank him, but as you look up into his eyes, you realize how imperceptibly close you two are. Suddenly, you’re thrust back to a week ago when you were in his arms, leaning into each other until you could feel his breath upon yours, but this time, there’s nothing stopping you. No phone, no crowd, and most importantly, no insecurities come between you two now, and your mind is clear as you lean in and latch your lips upon his.

If you were unsure of what mango meant to you before, you’re definitely sure it will remind you of Beomgyu now, because all you can taste is the mango on his lips. It’s like your mind has gone into overdrive as you move closer, and you can vaguely register him using his free hand to palm the back of your head and tilt it up. The atmosphere doesn’t feel hazy anymore; instead, it feels shy and awkward, as if you were two lovers learning the world together. Like everything with Beomgyu, it feels right, just so right, and you never want to leave because you are his wholeheartedly, and he is yours.

Until you register what’s happening, of course.

You pull away quickly, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Beomgyu’s lips are puffy, and you’re sure yours must mimic a similar appearance, but that’s the least of your worries.

“Beomgyu, I—”

“I love you,” he breathes out, and his voice is light and airy as if he can’t hold in the words anymore, “I love you so much that it kills me you’re leaving. I don’t know how to fix this pain, but what I can say is that I’ll try my hardest to be by your side. Every day I’ve spent with you has been the happiest I’ve ever been in my life, and being without you this past week has made me realize how much light will disappear from my life if you leave. I’ll take you in any way you’ll let me, even if it’s through late-night calls or sparse texts. Please be mine, please.”

He's begging you now, holding your hands within his and clutching tightly, but even the words you want to say are trapped in your throat. You can’t do it to him. You can’t force him to love you thousands of miles away and look forward to you when he has a whole future ahead of him. You may be burdened by the ghosts of your past, but he isn’t, and you can’t deprive him of the one thing that makes himself him: his sunshine.

“I’m so sorry Beomgyu. I can’t put you in that position.”

Even the tears that once hesitated to fall now escape freely as he nods, cradling your cheek. After all that’s happened, he’s still so understanding, and even though he has a tight smile on his face, he keeps on a brave front for you.

“I knew you would say that. It’s okay, we can just enjoy the last of our days together.”

“Don’t hold yourself back for me, alright?” you whisper, wiping the stray tears that you don’t want him to see.

He notices the tear stains on your cheeks anyway, wiping the wetness with the pads of his thumbs. You notice he doesn’t respond, but at this point, he doesn’t need to. Even though you’ve warned him against it, you know without a doubt that he’ll always be waiting for you, even with all your uncertainty.

The last bell of the year rings, but as your classmates bustle around you with joy and laughter, you don’t know what to feel.

Moving is a funny concept. You leave behind everything you know just to start anew, but unlike most people, you’ve finally gotten the chance to go back to the past. Your old friends, your old family, your old life. Months ago, you would’ve jumped for this opportunity, as many others would in your situation, but now you’re experiencing a bittersweet emotion. You can’t even deny it: this place has had a tremendous impact on you through the experiences it put you through, the people it made you meet, and the emotions it caused you to feel. Even just thinking about going away leaves a pang in your heart, but you suppose life is about these occurrences, whether they’re sad or happy, and you’ll just have to persevere through it like you always do.

You’re walking out to the parking lot when Beomgyu joins you. You’ve still been talking even after the dreaded incident weeks ago, especially since you studied together for exams, but your relationship since you rejected him hasn’t been the same. It’s like you’re tiptoeing around with each other, waiting for one another to break, but you’ve already broken before so you don’t know why it feels so fragile. Maybe it’s the tension in the air around your departure or the lack of definition within your relationship, but either way, it feels suffocating.

At least you’re grateful he hasn’t shut you out yet.

“So, how was your last day of school?” you hear, but this time you focus your eyes on the ground instead.

It feels too weird to look at him. It’s like you don’t have permission to admire his beauty anymore, so you rarely ever make eye contact with him. Instead, you focus on the gum he’s chewing, the one you know is mango-flavored but always so bitter. Maybe it was a sign you two were never meant to be.

“It was good. You know, tiring as always, but I’m glad it’s over.”

“Yeah, I get it. Are you going back home soon?”

Honestly, your parents haven’t been super transparent with you, but from their calls, you assume that you still have well into the summer before you move out. They sound busy wrapping up things, and they haven’t given you an exact date, but they have promised you they’ll be here soon. Like all things in your life, even your parting is uncertain, and that’s what you tell him.

“So, what I hear is that I can still terrorize you over the summer.”

You laugh, but it’s forced and uneasy. The tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife, but honestly, you’ve gotten a little too used to it by now.

“I guess you could, Gyu.”

He stops you in your tracks by stepping in front of you.

“Look, I know we’re a little awkward right now, but I feel like I have to say this, or I’ll never get the chance. I’m so honored to have been your friend, and I’m going to miss you a lot. Like, a lot a lot. I’m sorry for putting you in so many awkward situations, but I hope you can remember the good parts when you think of me.”

You sigh, patting his head. If you were on good terms with him, you would’ve gifted him a hug, but you hope the small gesture can do your feelings enough justice.

“I’m gonna miss you too. A lot a lot,” you mimic, watching him smile, “so text me often, okay? I’m sorry for making things awkward too.”

He shakes his head, willing to argue in your favor, but before he can even start a car horn sounds from the parking lot. You crane your head to see a familiar vehicle, one that’s accompanied you throughout your lifetime, except this time, it’s adorned with a painted mango on the side.

“Mom? Dad?”

Your parents step out of the car, and your legs are moving you towards them before you can even register it. Video calls don’t do their beautiful faces any justice, and it feels so surreal as you stop in front of them, waiting for them to just be a figment of your imagination.

“Hey, sweetie,” your dad says, and that’s all it takes before you’re leaning into his touch, burrowing yourself into him as you would often do when you were a little kid.

You forgot how much pain you felt when they left you here. All this time, you’ve suppressed it, and only at night when you were in your room, half-asleep and overthinking, did you let your tears come to bay. You wanted to be strong for them because everything they did was for you, but it was hard not to lose sight of their eventual return and get lost in the lifeless emotions associated with their disappearance every waking day that passed. It took every ounce of strength in you to pick yourself up every day and pretend like you were fine, but although there were many factors that helped you mitigate those feelings, none of them could truly ever make the ache ebb away.

“Why are you here? I thought it would be a while,” you ask after you’ve calmed down and properly reunited with them, “are we moving back soon?”

“Actually, about that… we’ve changed our minds a little bit.”

Your mom holds your face in her palms, pinching at the skin on your cheek ever so slightly.

“Your aunt told us how happy you are here, and how you’ve grown so much from moving here. I know that losing your parents so suddenly must’ve had a huge impact on you, but if this place helped you with those struggles even just a little bit, then it must be worth staying here. We thought that you might like it if we stayed here permanently. What do you think?”

You can’t believe it. It’s as if the world has deafened and all you can hear is the ringing echoing through your ears because what they’re saying sounds too good to be true. Moving here? Permanently? Is life playing some sort of cruel joke on you?

“You aren’t joking, right?” you whisper, and all your parents can do is laugh as they shake their heads.

They say that your life flashes before your eyes as you die, but right now, all that flashes through your eyes are the memories you’ve made in your seemingly short time here. You remember sitting shotgun in Yeonjun’s car as he annoyed you on the way to school, texting Yunjin during math while you two try not to fall asleep, and teaming up with Taehyun while wreaking havoc on poor Soobin.

However, most importantly, you remember Beomgyu. From the curve of his lips to the rings on his fingers, from the walks home you’ve shared to your first and last kiss in your very bedroom, he’s always been with you wholeheartedly. You haven’t been able to stop thinking about him since that very first day when the boy with dark curls caught your watercolor eyes, and for the foreseeable future, you don’t think you’ll be able to stop.

When you turn to look back at him, he’s there. He’s always there, waiting for you no matter how far you go. Even if he is just a speckle in the distance, just the size of an atom, you are his nucleus and he revolves around you, chasing you until he breaks down into a black hole of nothing. Even now, as you stare at him from the parking lot, one look at you tells him everything he needs to know. He’s here, here before your eyes in a matter of seconds, and as your parents ask him who he is, you know that only the most perfect boy would respond with such a beautiful answer as he directly addresses you.

“I’m whoever you want me to be.”

You shake your head, unable to hide the smile that flits across your face. After a long, long time of shying away from Beomgyu, you’re finally ready to embrace the feelings he brings you, whether tears or smile lines.

“This is Beomgyu, my lover.”

Your bedroom is still bare with your whole life packed into boxes once again, but at least this time around, your walls are painted yellow again. However, instead of a sunny yellow, they’re more of a mango color, your mom going even as far as to say it’s the exact same hue as the mangoes they grew in Thailand, fresh and ripe. Honestly, you’re just glad you’re not sitting within the depressing beige color again, because why did you even convince yourself it made you happy?

What’s not fresh is the old carpet you and your boyfriend are sitting on, but sometimes you can appreciate the old things too. In fact, it’s somewhat comfortable as you lie in his arms, sprawled across the carpet with no looming future dangling over your head. It’s just you, your other half, and nothing more, enjoying your well-deserved summer break weeks after school has ended.

“I’m not ready for school,” you complain, liking the feeling of being illuminated by the bright sun peeking through your blinds, “I like sitting around doing nothing. Imagine how hectic it would’ve been if I actually moved back.”

Your statement is only half-true though, because there are many things awaiting you once school starts that you’re actually very excited for. For starters, you get to have your own article published in the newspaper, and you have a slight inkling as to what it’s going to be about. Also, you have many wonderful friends who will make your life a lot easier, so even though school is school, at least you’ll have amazing people by your side. Really, you’re just complaining for no reason.

“I’m just glad we won’t have to throw you a farewell party. I don’t think Taehyun or Soobin would’ve let me near Yunjin’s pool again.”

You smack his chest lightly, and he laughs, curling in closer to lay your head against his chest. You really should be unpacking your things, at least, that’s what you told your parents you’d be doing, but you can’t pass up the chance to cuddle with Beomgyu every time you get it. You both have been pining for each other for far too long anyway, so why waste any more time?

“Y/N!” you hear from outside the door, “I brought you food!”

You get up to let your mom in, but Beomgyu is already five steps ahead of you. Your mom gives him a warm smile because seemingly, your parents seem more smitten with him than you are. You can’t really blame them though; who doesn’t like Choi Beomgyu?

“Thank you for the mango, auntie!” he responds, and of course, the endearment has her reeling.

“I thought you two would be hungry after working hard,” she says, leaning over to peek through the gap between him and the door, “but it seems you two have done nothing at all. Oh well, you can eat it anyway. You have all the time in the world.”

You two really do, because as you make yourselves cozy on the carpet once more, bowls of mango in hand, it feels like time has taken a pause after all the misery it has put you through. You eat the slices wholeheartedly as you think, with Beomgyu brushing off the juice that escapes your mouth occasionally when the piece is too big. You’re glad that time is moving slowly because you want to savor every moment you have with him. He deserves it, and so do you.

“We should really start setting things up,” Beomgyu starts, “How long are you going to sleep with just four yellow walls and no decoration? That would be so depressing.”

“Hey, at least it’s less depressing than beige walls,” you grumble, “but even just being here makes me content enough to fall asleep. I have nothing to worry about this time around, especially when you’re just five minutes or a phone call away.”

Mere seconds pass before he’s leaning in to place a kiss on your lips, and of course, everything about him tastes extremely mango. Your malice for the fruit is far gone now, far, far gone because not only are your parents back, but also because Beomgyu is the only thing you think about when reminded of the flavor. However, your rollercoaster feelings for the fruit are the last thing on your mind as you lean in closer, placing the mango bowl beside you.

“You still hate mango, baby?” he whispers between kisses, and it takes everything in you to pull him back, reminding him that you two are supposed to be unpacking and not making out.

“Answer the question,” he whines, a cute little pout on his face that makes you five seconds away from forgetting your very own warning and kissing him breathless again.

“No, I don’t,” you finally answer, grabbing his hand and interlacing it with yours, “I love it now.”

He grins, and you decide to succumb to your desires, forgetting all sense of rationality when it comes to him as you press a kiss to his lips again.

“I love mango just as much as I love you.”

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summery-captain · 1 year

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This is gonna be a long one: a total of 18 posts following Dirk's actions, behaviours and phrases that are indicative of him being autistic and also kinetic (having ADHD). Disclaimer that I'm AuADHD and that's how/why I've come to analyse him like this, the devil works hard but my special interest in him and the show works harder

I'll divide it up by episode so it's a bit easier! I'll link the next ones here as I make them, let me know if you want me to tag you in the next ones. There won't be images, just descriptions of the general scenes. I'll make a post later on of the main scenes/moments that make me see him as AuADHD, if you see a "*" next to any of these it means it's going in the TL:DR post later.

S1E1 - "Horizons"

> The episode opens with Dirk being extremely off put by the phone ringing and he repeats himself when answering ("Awake, yes I'm awake, I've been awake"). He then realizes he's late and that sends him into panic. - Has trouble organizing and keeping track of time/significant dates and tasks

> In the murder scene at the hotel, right before he picks up the shark kitten his hands tremble slightly and he seems hesitant for a second to take it. - has to mentally prepare when touching a new/different texture, in this case the kitten's fur

> When Zimmerfield and Estevez are analysing the footage of the day the murder happened, Dirk is seen (in the gorilla mask) looking around as if lost/confused of his whereabouts, even if he's been told (by himself) where he needs to go/be. - Has trouble with directions and verbal instructions, gets lost easily

> *"Pfft, time! I laugh at the concept, I can spend a whole day without even trying" - time blindness/hyperfixation/"daydreaming"

> "How did you get in here?!" Todd says. "Through the window, obviously", he answers. Then, later in the same scene, Todd says "You can't just break into my apartment!", "Clearly I can, I just did" - takes questions/statements literally, answering exactly what is being asked/said

> When he gives his speech of interconnectedness Todd looks more confused and annoyed by the second, he doesn't want to hear any of it. Dirk doesn't seem to realize this and just goes on and on, taking Todd's initial silence as confirmation that he can keep talking, interrupts Todd every time he tries to answer/say anything - has trouble with social cues and with when/how to stop talking

> "No one watches the news, except for old people. And me- occasionally" - is immediatelly defensive of interests/habits that may seem odd to others

> "None of your business" Todd says when he tries to offer him a ride "You don't even know my business!!" - again, takes things literally. I also think he is fully aware that Todd doesn't mean that literally but feels compelled to answer nonetheless

> In these next scenes they're already at Amanda's. "You said you were gonna stay in the car." "I lied though." - is blunt/direct - "Did you see how I snuck up on you? I was trained as a ninja by the CIA- Sorry, that's a lie too", he looks pained and his eyes focus on a random point, he's clearly mentally scolding himself, he finds it hard to filter out thoughts before saying them out loud

> "What's wrong with you exactly?" - is blunt/direct and without much tact when talking to Amanda about pararibulitis

> "Is it THAT important that you're not to be identified as my friend that you felt the need to argue about it?" - he's hurt and needs specific clarifications for previous social interactions and demonstrates rejection sensitive dysphoria (panic/meltdown/overload due to perceived social rejection) when Todd keeps rejecting him every time he tries to connect with him. It's hard not to spiral, especially because he's been told by himself that Todd is his best friend. He knows it didn't happen overnight but he was so excited about the prospect that being met with a very different reality is really staggering for him)

> When watching Todd and Amanda jam, he daydreams, imagining himself jamming with them, interacting and belonging - it's hard for us to feel like we're part of a group/that we belong, so it's common for neurodivergent people to imagine ourselves in different scenarios being able to fully interact and integrate with our peers

> Later in the same scene when Amanda gets an attack, he immediately rushes over and is only stopped by Todd pushing him off from him and Amanda. His eyes go unfocused and they get red. - rejection sensitive dysphoria (although it's understandable why he was pushed off.

> Later, back at Todd's apartment, he goes on and on about past cases until Todd snaps, he has a hard time recognizing the social cues Todd is giving him. "A thing with Thor- he's not nearly as good looking as people say. Actually, it's kind of a funny story-", looks extremely pained when cut off too, it's hard to stop in our tracks when we start something.

> When the Rowdy 3 get into the apartment building he immediately tries to hide under a bed that is clearly far too small for him - lacks spatial awareness, having trouble with knowing wheter or not he fits somewhere before trying to do so

> "I'm a person or varied intuitions, I have a lot of feelings about a lot of things. They're rarely ever wrong, but rarely completely right" - he's highly sensitive. Of course this plays into the whole show's themes, this part specifically for him being holistic. In my view though, whether the writers and actor meant to or not, holisticness greatly mirrors/parallels neurodivergency, even Blackwing is shown to use similar "tactics" as ABA.

> Moving along, when the Rowdy 3 enter Todd's apartment, before they even actually use their powers on Dirk, the camera/sounds focuses greatly on how loud and chaotic everything is. Dirk immediately drops to the ground in a fetal position, trying to cover his eyes and ears, and shuts down due to the sensory overload.

> Later, Dorian enters the house pointing his gun at Dirk and and Todd, who questions him as to how they're gonna get out of this. "I'm very good at getting into situations, I have more trouble getting out of them" - I can't count how many times I got myself into a dangerous situation because I didn't notice the clues/atmosphere, or in relationships/social gatherings in general. It's hard parsing out what is and isn't safe, and even harder to get out of it when it finally clicks you're not safe.

> Later Todd and Dirk are having a discussion/fight after the police let's them go, and Todd questions him as to why he isn't more distraught due to what just happened. "I think it might bother me more later, when I'm less... Something" - everything is overwhelming, so it's common for autistic people to take much longer to fully process how we feel/how to react than neurotypicals. We mostly can only fully face/process stressfull situations when we're somewhere safe and quiet.

> Todd starts screaming about everything that is happening, and Dirk gets more overwhelmed by the second. He enters a brief ecolalia loop, going STOP, STOP, STOP, STOP!!

Second episode analysis

@clockworkcheetah @urlocallesbiab @amberangel @generalized-incompetence

#dirk gently #autistic dirk gently #adhd dirk gently #autism #adhd #actually autistic #dghda #dghda headcanons #media analysis

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warriorteam1924 · 2 years

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Your presence is wanted at this ghostly ball

John Deacon feat Miss T.

Author’s note : Hi my beauties. This piece is very special because it will surely be one i got to write before things get incredibly busy in my life, leaving me with full prompts in mind that i’d actually have to write. It is halloween theme as you might guess, given the date. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks in advance for the feedback (honest and real feedback of course, otherwise this doesn’t make sense at all) Also, I remind you English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the mistakes…. i didn’t have time to make any gif, so i took the one showing from here (X)

Warnings : my style of course, mentions of death, mention of paranormal.

Summary : a ball to prepare to see someone....

Words count : 2.775 words words

Permanent tag list : @reavenedges-lies @thosequeenboys @born-to-lose @orionis8689 @queenlover05 (please communicate with me regarding your desire to be kept on this list or not ^^ thank you)

It had been an exhausting day for John Deacon. He was supposed to attend this music conference, but of course, nothing went as planned.

The organizers told him all would be very easy when he would arrive, that he would have nothing to worry about. How wrong had they been?

His flight had been delayed, because of the fog. Of course, it was too simple to blame the fog, but still. It made him miss his connection so he had to book another seat for another flight. It was nothing lethal, but it was truly annoying.

And of course, when he arrived, the organization was a real mess. And it seemed everyone who wanted to attend this conference knew this, because it seemed the rest of the population had a plan. The only issue John had was he didn’t have any.

He thus left the conference center truly disappointed. He would only be able to attend the conference he was interested in within a few days and he had nowhere to stay for the night. Because, obviously, all the hotels and bed and breakfast were fully booked.

He took his phone out of his pocket, prayed for his battery to last long enough and eventually found a place, a bit far from the main city, that was true, but at least, it seemed they had vacancies. John made a quick phone call and what appeared to be an old lady answered, reassuring him, letting him know he could stay there for as long as he needed.

After what seemed to be an eternity, John eventually found a taxi and headed to the old lady’s place.

As John expected it, it was a very old building, but he couldn’t care less. He only wanted a shower and a bed to sleep. He truly was exhausted.

He paid the taxi, took his luggage out of the tuck and headed to the front door. He took time to stare at the place, but he supposed it was too late to run away now, even if the place appeared slightly gloomy.

John knocked on the door and waited, trying to put a reassuring smile on his lips. He wasn’t sure who needed to be reassured, the old lady or himself.

He heard footsteps behind the wooden door and what seemed to be several locks being unlocked. The door slowly opened and John supposed the old lady he had on the phone was standing before him.

“Hello”, she said with her faint and old voice.

“Hello, I’m John Deacon, I called in the afternoon for a room.”, John replied, maybe slightly too enthusiastically.

“Oh, yes, I recall, I recall.”, the old lady nodded. “Please come in. May I take your luggage?”, she asked.

John looked at her, frowning. She surely was willing to give her best to be a good hostess, but she looked like she was a million years old. John wondered how she would be able to take his bag upstairs.

“Oh, no, please don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”, John eventually replied with a smile.

“Please, come in then.”, she said again.

John entered the house and felt reassured to notice the house didn’t smell weird. It was an old lady’s house, with too many knick-knacks on the shelves.

“Everyone calls me Miss T., cause my name is actually unpronounceable….”, she introduced herself as she closed the door.

“Alright, Miss T. it is then, and I’m John Deacon.”, John replied, giving her his hand to shake.

She shyly took it and John shivered when he felt the coldness of her fingers on his. He tried not to shiver, hoping this unpleasant feeling would remain unnoticed.

“Shall I show you your room?”, she showed him the way to the stairs.

“Yes, please. I must confess I’m a bit tired.”, John replied.

Miss T. headed to the stairs, walking quite slowly. Yet, it seemed she was a strong and proud woman, not really willing to ask for help, despite her age.

“Don’t pay attention to the pranksters in the living room playing cards. If they’re too noisy though, just let me know, I’ll make sure they keep quiet.”, Miss T. said as they passed in front of the living room door that was open.

John glanced at the room, noticing there was no one at all. It seemed he was the only customer. He raised an eyebrow, wondering if the lady still had all her marbles.

He followed her all the same in the stairs, leading to the bedrooms. Who was he to state anything about an old woman he had just met? Maybe at her age, his mental state would be worse.

She opened a door and John was surprised to see a neat and large room. Miss T. headed to the window to open the curtains, adding a natural light to the bedroom. It wasn’t that bad after all. The decoration was truly not modern and fancy, but the room was clean and the sheets seemed as soft as a woman’s skin.

Miss T. opened another door and informed John it was his private bathroom. The man walked in to find a tub and the loo. Again, all was sparkling, giving the impression the place was extremely clean.

The hostess also told John about the old wardrobe, letting him know the doors were a bit old but that it wouldn’t be a problem for a man with his strength.

The old lady eventually took her leave, knowing John needed a bit of privacy.

“Diner will be ready when you’re hungry. Just come downstairs and we will feast together.”, she said before closing the door.

‘Feast together’, John thought to himself. A bit awkward, he had to admit. He plugged his phone and noticed there was no network at all. He shrugged and left his phone on the bed. He headed to the bathroom, thinking he had deserved a hot bath after this long and boisterous day.

The tub was so comfy he almost fell asleep. The place was also very quiet, adding to his sleepiness.

As the water was getting colder, he eventually got out and dried himself. He put on cleaned clothes and headed downstairs. His stomach was starting to be slightly noisy.

John looked around him, not sure where the old lady was, but a delicious smell guided his step to a large room where a big table was set. There were many plates and John wondered if Miss T. was actually expecting more company.

“Miss T.?”, John quietly called.

The old lady emerged from a door that seemed to be the separation between the dining room and the kitchen.

“Oh, there you are. We were only waiting for you.”, she said with a smile.

John was tempted to ask who she meant by we, but again, he kept quiet and replied with a smile. The old lady pointed at a chair and John sat. She disappeared behind the door and came back with a serving trolley. She put a few steaming dishes on the big table and eventually sat as well, right next to John.

“You got a fair amount of trouble just for a diner, didn’t you?”, John politely asked, staring at the dishes before him.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m used to it. Please, help yourself while it’s hot.”, she said, giving him a large spoon and pointing at the dishes.

John nodded and helped himself with what seemed to be some kind of stew. The man thought that given her age, the stews probably were delicious and he wasn’t wrong. His taste buds danced in delight with every spoon he was putting in his mouth.

The lady was smiling and talking, as if she was replying to other guests. Again, John didn’t say a thing, not willing to be a burden.

Miss T. eventually took the dishes back to the kitchen after making sure John had tasted a bit of everything. She came back with another serving trolley full of desserts and John couldn’t resist a slice of a lemon tart, that was also absolutely delicious.

At the end of dinner, after the old lady had cleared the table, she suggested they could all play cards together.

Again, John felt highly uncomfortable. It was obvious there was no one else but the hostess and his only guest. And again, John tried to remain polite and gently declined, letting her know he needed a good night’s sleep.

As he expected it, the sheets were very soft and the mattress very comfy. It didn’t take him very long to fall asleep.

John wasn’t really the type of guy to have vivid dreams, if ever he dreamt at all.

And yet, this night, he had one of these dreams, the ones that felt extremely real and that gave one the impression that it truly had happened.

John dreamt of this very place and this very bedroom. He recalled not being alone in this bed. There was a woman with him, so beautiful and so amazing that he wasn’t sure words could ever describe her. And in this dream, the two of them shared a moment of passion, a pure bliss leading to an intense ecstasy. It wasn’t vulgar, it wasn’t lust or giving the feeling it was something wrong. It was just love making and pleasure giving. A sensation John thought he would never know.

He woke up in the morning, still sweating and hoping he hadn’t actually made a mess in the bed. Thankfully, it was all about his mind making things up.

As the sun was starting to shine outside, warming the bedroom, John got ready and headed downstairs.

He walked directly towards the room where he had shared his diner with his hostess. The large table was again set and John startled when Miss T. emerged from the kitchen, with her serving trolley.

“Good morning, Mister Deacon. Right on time to share breakfast with us.”, she greeted him with a smile.

“Good morning, Miss T. May I help you?”, John asked, getting closer to her.

“No, no, please have a sit and enjoy.”, she kindly replied.

Again, the dishes were full: sausages, eggs, toasts, cheese…. Anything anyone could eat for breakfast. And again, the old lady seemed to be talking to someone, but John couldn’t see anyone.

“Ahh, I don’t know….”, she said with a mischievous smile, looking at John.

“I’m sorry, what?”, John replied, his mouth full with cheese and toast.

“Did you dream of the beautiful lady?”, the old lady asked with the same smile on her lips.

“What?”, John started to cough as his food went down the wrong way.

The old lady laughed and looked at the invisible guests around the table.

“Seems like he had a nice time.”, Miss T. joked. “Don’t worry, Mister Deacon, no one here is judging you.”, she reassured him.

There was an awkward silence and the old lady carried on eating a bit, nodding and staring at the empty seats around the table.

Eventually, she got closer to John and whispered in his ear.

“Now we’re alone. Did she come to see you last night?”, she asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”, John firmly replied.

“Come on, Mister Deacon.”, she said with a nod.

“How do you know that?”, John eventually surrendered, whispering as well.

“Would you like to see her again?”, the old lady asked, still whispering.

“What? How?”, John questioned her.

“We’re going to have a little celebration tonight. Some kind of ball as we used to call it back then. I can make sure she’ll be here so that the two of you can meet again.”, Miss T said, very calmly.

John had a million questions running in his head. How could she know? Was anything of this real? Was he still dreaming? What was going on?

The old lady was still staring at him with a smile. John looked at her, trying to perceive any trace of anything that could indicate the lady couldn’t be trusted.

“Would you like to see her again? She’ll be here only if you’re willing to see her….”, the old lady eventually spoke again.

John remained silent again. After all, what did he risk? If it was only fantasy, there was nothing wrong with it.

“Okay. I’ll be there if she is.”, John nodded.

“Excellent.”, the lady offered her hand for John to shake it.

Again, her hand felt terribly cold, but John didn’t mind.

“Yet, this time, I wouldn’t be refusing your help….”, Miss T. said. She seemed a bit annoyed to confess it.

“Help?”, John asked.

“Well, you surely did notice I’m no longer the woman I used to be. I’m old and my bones are sore. But I like to keep this place alive and this little celebration tonight is yet another opportunity to see it full of life. I’d need your help to make sure the place is ready for tonight. You know, move some furniture, clean a bit….”, the old lady said, lowering her voice.

John looked at her and sighed. He felt bad for this old woman living on her own and having to do it all by herself in this big house.

“Of course, Miss T. Don’t worry, I’ll help you.”, John said with a smile.

The two of them thus carried on their day together, Miss T. indicating what needed to be done and John complying. The preparation was interrupted by another delicious meal and at the end of the afternoon, the old lady was beaming.

“This is going to be such a great celebration….”, she said with sparkles in her eyes. “You should take a bath and get ready for tonight.”, she nodded, before gently pushing John towards the stairs.

John laughed and headed upstairs, feeling as light as a feather. He didn’t know what was going to happen, but he was truly hoping for the best.

He took another long bath, and fell asleep this time, given all the energy he had burnt during the day with Miss T. He woke up to the sound of laughter and music and people chatting. The sound was coming from downstairs. John rushed out of the tub, got dried and made sure to choose a nice outfit. He took a deep breath and headed downstairs.

The place was beautiful and the guests were smiling and some were dancing. John greeted them with a nod, looking here and there to see if the beautiful lady was there.

A moment passed, but John couldn’t see her. Maybe it was all a dream after all. He joined a few conversations, but his mind couldn’t think about anything and anyone else but the lady he had dreamt of.

Eventually, he spotted Miss T. who was staring at him with a smile. He walked towards her, hoping he wasn’t looking too impatient.

“Your celebration is going well Miss T. I hope you’re enjoying this as well.”, John kindly said, not daring to go straight to the point.

“You’ve been enjoying the others’ company I see….”, she replied with a smile.

“Yes, your guests are very pleasant, Miss T.”, the man confessed.

“But don’t you think I have forgotten about you Mister Deacon.”, the old lady said with a smile.

John couldn’t help but have a hopeful smile on his lips.

“I’ll be right back.”, Miss T. said, and slowly walked out of the room, leaving John alone with his thoughts.

He didn’t have to remain with them for too long though, since the beautiful lady appeared in the room, her presence eclipsing all the others’ in the room.

She walked directly towards John with a genuine smile on her lips. John didn’t know what he was doing but he instinctively took her hand and brought her closer to his body. And as couples did in such celebrations, they started to dance. They didn’t say a word, the world around them had ceased to be. They only were staring at each other’s eyes, dancing in the night, sparkles in the irises.

John had the feeling this night was endless but he didn’t complain. He felt nothing but joy, love, warmth in his heart. He didn’t care about anything. There was only her, this beautiful lady in his arms, dancing with him. Her soft skin against his reminding him of the ecstasy he had felt the night before.

Little did he know that only his spirit was with the other’s that night. Because his corpse had been lying in the cold water of the tub and Miss T. was now dragging it outside to burry it, amongst the others.

#warriorteam1924 writes #Your presence is wanted at this ghostly ball #queen #queen imagine #halloqueen2022 #john deacon #john deacon imagine #john deacon fanfiction #john deacon fiction #john deacon fantic #john deacon fic #emotional to thing i might not be able to write again before some time....#it's not as if my masterlist was gone of course #but still....

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monpetitchattriste · 1 year

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Merry Christmas @ladybugs-and-black-cats ! Sorry I am a little late, this story kinda got out of hand. I hope you enjoy it.

Thank you @mlsecretsanta for hosting!

Rating: Teen

Chapters: 1/2

Relationship: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug

Tags: Post-Magic Reveal, Pre-Relationship, Romance, Flirting, Dancing, Hurt/Comfort ,Angst,Fluff

Summary: Between finding out Adrien is Chat Noir, denying feelings, and the formal winter dancing coming up, everything is 'completely fine' in Marinette's life. Nothing can go wrong at all, right?

Marinette was used to a noisy room between the kwamis and Alya; there was always some type of ruckus.

Since she lost the Miraculous, her room had been painfully silent. She knew she would get them back. Until then, she had someone new to fill her room with annoying sounds.

The quiet hum of the sewing machine filled the room, a pleasant, comforting sound that she enjoyed. But the constant random thumping coming from the other side of the room was anything but enjoyable.

Glancing over her shoulder, she watched as he threw the ball for yarn, letting it hit her wall and then bounce on the floor before he finally caught it.

Pulling the sheer fabric tighter, Marinette tried her hardest to focus on her project, but the repetitive sound was going to drive her insane. She finished up her last section before turning around to face the person causing the noise.

Adrien was laying on her chaise, head hanging off the edge, feet propped up on the back. Snatching the ball of yarn, he threw it against the wall again.

Seizing the moment, she stopped and studied him. With her small window open, the evening sun caught the glass. Hues of colors from the mix-match window washed over him.

As he caught the soft yarn, she watched his hands - that still had chipped nail polish from a few weeks back. She could let herself spiral thinking about the whole thing. There were other things that she needed to focus on.

Marinette shook the thoughts from her mind. Standing up from her chair, she reached up and tried to stretch out the stiffness in her back.

“You are being really distracting, minou.”

As he caught the ball, he turned around in the chair to sit upright. His hair fell into his eyes. It was a wonder how she never realized he was Chat.

“Paw'don me, my lady. But I am pawsitively bored. And there is nothing fur this cat to do." While he loved watching her work the whole evening, he also wanted to spend more time with her.

His whole world had changed even since he learned that she was Ladybug. His once isolated, bleak life was now filled with light and warmth. And he wanted to do everything in his power to be by the person who brought that to him.

"That was not your best pun. The dance is this weekend. I need to get this dress done." She shook her head at him. Walking over to him, she grabbed the ball of yarn from him.

“You could go to the dance in a paper bag and still look beautiful.”

“And you are just a huge flirt. I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“You are the only girl I flirt with.” Adrien grabbed her hand and placed a small kiss on her knuckles.

“With a face like yours, I find that really hard to believe.” If he had been transformed, she would have flicked his bell, but sadly he wasn’t.

“Oh, so you think my face is nice.”

“I didn’t say that. You are just mildly attractive. Not that I am attracted to you! But from a designer’s perspective, you are handsome! But not in a way that I am attracted to!”

Adrien chuckled, “So…” He stood up and leaned closer to her, “did anyone ask you to the dance?”He was going to ask, but then Alya and Nino made plans for them to go as a group.

She could feel the slight warmth creeping up into her cheeks. “You are practically with me every second of the day. You would have known if someone asked me." Marinette rolled her eyes as she shoved him away playfully.

There was one person who Marinette had hoped would have asked. But he didn’t, and she wouldn’t blame him, even if it hurt slightly.

But things had been weird and different since their identities had been revealed. They spent almost every waking minute together. But neither of them knew quite how to act around the other. Marinette regularly noticed Adrien looking in her direction with a longing gaze. But they still acted as if they were more than best friends, denying all of their feelings for each other.

Marinette knew Chat was in love with Ladybug but did that mean Adrien was also in love with her? It was so confusing sometimes with all these unspoken words that neither dared to say.

"That is true, and sometimes I even spend the night." And did he cherish those nights. Between the family dinners and game nights, Marinette’s home was as much his as it was hers. Going back to his cold house got harder each time.

If Marinette wasn't blushing, she was now. Sometimes it was too late and cold to send him home, so it was easier for him to stay. And with the bonus of a better night's sleep, Marinette preferred it when he stayed over.

"You don't have to go announcing it to the world. People might get the wrong idea about us."

"It's just us. And what idea might that be my lady." His face was dangerously close to hers. He

wanted her to say it. That they were more than just friends? He saw the way that she glanced at him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention. But where Marinette was concerned, he was always paying attention.

"That we are more than friends," Marinette answered as she stepped back.

"Oh, now we don't want that." His voice was a mix of sultry and hurt. She was going to be the death of him. He wanted nothing more than to be more than just friends with her. But did she? Marinette loved Adrien, not Chat Noir. And since they were the same person, maybe her feelings had changed. Or they were just overcomplicating things like they always did.

Marinette was confused by the slightly hurt tone in his voice, but she decided to ignore it. Because reading too much into it might end up hurting someone's feelings. And that was the last thing she wanted.

"No, we don't." She whispered more to herself than him. "Anyways, I need to get back to my dress."

"What if we watched a movie together instead? I purr-omise to be a good cat and let you finish the dress afterward." Adrien looked at her with pleading eyes, knowing she wouldn’t say no to him.

Marinette rolled her eyes. "Fine. One movie." She couldn't say no to that face. "But I get to pick. Otherwise, we will end up watching Tangled for the billionth time."

"It's a great movie." Adrien shrugged his shoulders.

She hummed in response as she began to set up her computer. After searching for a few minutes she decided on Another Cinderella Story- the one with Hillary Duff, of course.

Adrien had moved the chaise to face the computer and piled several blankets. Shifting the blankets around, he made a spot for her.

Once she finished setting up the movie, she laid down next to him. Instinctively he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. He could feel how tense her body was against his. Slowly he traced small circles on her arm, hoping it would help her relax.

He wanted nothing more than just to make her feel comfortable around him. Even after a month of knowing their identities, he could still feel how tense she would sometimes become. He noticed it the most when she started stumbling over her words-one of the many quirks he loved about her.

And because of how tense she would be around him, he didn’t ask her to the winter dance. He didn’t want to cause her any distress. Plus, it was already unspoken that they were going together.

Even so, he made sure that his suit matched her dress perfectly. They would look like they were together. Because at the end of the night, he would tell her how he felt. He was tired of this dance between them. He wanted her to be his.

About halfway through the movie Marinette fell asleep. And Adrien didn’t dare disturb her until the movie was over. Knowing she was going to need sleep. He knew she would spend the next week forgetting all the essentials trying to get this dress done.

Adrien placed a small kiss on her forehead before slipping out from behind her to turn off her computer.

Carefully he picked her up and took her to her bed. The last thing she needed was to wake up with a sore neck.

He tucked her in and was about to leave when he felt her grab his wrist.

“Please stay.” She groggily asked him.

Her half-open drowsy eyes and messy hair were all it took to convince him to stay.

“Okay.” Adrien knew he would hear about this in the morning when he didn’t return home, but he didn’t care.

He moved the covers and settled down beside her. Within seconds she had turned over and rested her head on his chest. He began threading the ends of her hair through his fingers, letting the motion pull him into a peaceful sleep.

#miraculous ladybug #ml secret santa

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naomifj97 · 2 years

Text

It's nice to have a friend

"Amity Blight had forgotten what having a friend was until Luz Noceda arrived at the Isles."

Onsehot, Amity-centric, canon-compliant (except when its’s not) Lumity songfic, featuring “Friends” trope and the tag #GiveAmityABackpack because, really, this girl needs one.

Inspired by It’s nice to have a friend by Taylor Swift.

So, I actually wrote this during the hiatus between s2A and s2B and never got to post it here, but since "King's tide" absolutely DESTROYED me, I figured we all could use a light-hearted fic. For obvious reasons, this is canon compilant until "Knock, knock, knockin' on Hooty's door"; after that is a bit of AU.

Enjoy! (Also, please, excuse typos and grammar mistakes, English is not my first language).

School bell rings, walk me home

Sidewalk chalk covered in snow

Lost my gloves, you give me one

“Wanna hang out?”

Yeah, sounds like fun

The bell’s scream is high-pitched, loud and annoying. It echoes through the corridors and almost every single student in Hexside welcomes it with joy and delight, picking up their things between laughs and wails.

Amity, however, lets out a quiet, veiled sigh against her uniform’s collar.

It’s time to go home, but she doesn’t really want to. She knows her mother is going to pester her about the tiny slump on her school performance, that her father won’t make the slightest attempt at raising his eyes from his work desk while her mother berates her, that she will have to listen and nod grimly, not having the option to defend herself.

Amity is not in a hurry to live that. So, she delays the task of gathering her things on purpose, slowly organizing and piling up her books until they form a perfect pile over her table. She knows it’s an almost compulsive habit, but she can’t help it.

Class is almost empty by the time she leaves the room with her pile of books in her arms. Amity walks down crowded hallways, cramped with noise and students of different classes waiting for their friends to make plans for the afternoon or, simply, to go home in company.

No one is waiting for her. Ed and Em have skipped class, Cat, Skara and Amelia have planned to meet to go to the market together, and Amity would prefer to rip her ears off before having to listen to Boscha talking about grudgby and her self-centered-bully bullshit for the whole way home. To be honest, Amity prefers going alone and in silence. So, when she runs into the back of the aforementioned, just after turning around the corner, the youngest Blight violently stops in her tracks and purposedly avoids her. She even walks backwards comically and very slowly so Boscha doesn’t notice her.

In her crab-like walking, Amity passes by the lockers and stops before her own because she’s kinda just remembered she has to take home vol. 7 of “Abominations’ behavior”. She bounces and struggles to hold onto the pile of books in her arms while getting her arm on her locker’s and taking the damn chunky book before the huge mouth of her cubby rips out her arm, but that turns out to be a very bad idea. And Amity realizes when the until then perfectly, well-ordered pile of books between her arm and her chest fumbles and crumbles, slipping over her uniform and falling to the floor one by one with a huge fuss.

To add humiliation to infortune, her locket decides to spit out a winter glove that, for some reason Amity can’t really recall, was being kept inside. It stays right there, crowning the disaster of books spilled over the floor, like the cherry on top of a destroyed cake, as if making fun of her.

She’s a bit tempted to kick them, but losing her composure is unproper of a Blight. And lately, Amity is being losing it too much. So she just huffs, grunts and groans before kneeling, angrily thinking that she needs a backpack urgently. She’s busy ruminating her disgraces to herself when, out of the blue, someone kneels before her and hands her the unpaired glove.

—Hi, Amity! Looked like you could use…a hand.

Maybe it’s the way she makes a small pause before saying the word “hand”. Or maybe the fact that she’s said it while shaking the glove in front of her nose. Or maybe it’s that stupid face she’s making as she speaks (eyes half-shut, raised eyebrow and lips tense of holding back a laughter), as she has said the wittiest joke in the world.

The point is Amity chuckles.

Luz Noceda has those perks.

—Hi, Luz. Thanks —Amity replies, taking the glove and unceremoniously throwing it into the depths of her locker once again.

Luz takes that laugh as a small personal triumph. It has not gone unnoticed to her that Amity is a bit down, that she’s being down the whole day. And Luz Noceda is not the kind of girl who lets her friends be down. She’s gonna cheer Amity up even if it’s the last thing she does (that day). She’s thinking on a way to do it when the solution passes right in front of her nose. Or, well, her hands, as she’s helping her friend picking up her books.

—Oh, abominations’ behavior! I should get to that, actually… —she runs a hand over the back of her neck, ashamed, with a small chuckle dorkily adorable—. The other day one of mine threw themselves over the stairs and stained them with goo, even if I had ordered them to roll over the hall and not the stairs. Principal Bump was not happy.

Amity reminds the incident well enough. She’s still deciding if the funniest thing had been the expression of absolute happiness of the abomination as they rolled over the stairs, Bump’s frown or Luz’s face of desperation and utter panic as she ran after the mass screaming something similar to “No! Don’t roll like a croqueta!” (whatever that was).

—I remember. I think he was debating between crying or resign directly.

Luz looks at her with a huge smile, a dorky one that makes Amity feel her stomach tinkle. Suddenly, the human’s eyes illuminate as she had just come up with the best plan in the whole universe.

—Amity! You’re the best in abominations’ class. You wanna come to the Owl House a while and study together? Only you can help me to understand…this —she adds, pouting, still holding the textbook.

Amity has only been to the Owl House once, after almost turning Willow’s brain into abomination goo. She knows she should say no, knows she has too much to do, too much schoolwork to catch on.

But she doesn’t want to go home, and Eda’s house has something welcoming in between all that havoc of messiness, and Luz is kind, and funny, and Amity would have never guessed it, but she enjoys the human’s company.

So, she accepts.

And Luz smiles, more than just happy, grabs half of the pile of Amity’s books and starts walking beside her (“Jeez, girl! Has anyone ever told you you need a backpack?”). They fill the silence with theories about the forthcoming sixth Azura book: Luz is certain Hecate will end up changing sides after a long redemption path; Amity is not so sure about that.

Luz takes the disagreement almost as a personal affront and spends more than half the way to Eda’s exposing her case. Amity finds enthralling the passion she speaks and moves with, how she defends her theories and the certainty that always seems to emanate from her every single cell, from every word, from every gesture.

Not taking her eyes off the human, the youngest Blight smiles.

And, as they walk, Amity thinks it’s nice to have a friend.

Video games, you pass me a note

Sleeping in tents

It’s nice to have a friend

(Ooh)

Amity has never given dating too much thought. It just wasn’t something that lingered in her plans for a future.

But then Luz arrived to Bonesborough, and Amity tried to get her dissected by principal Bump, and then that human who absurdly tried to pass as an abomination like that was going to fool anyone anyway, turned out to be funny, chaotic and unpredictable in the most charming way.

And so everything became extremely confusing.

Amity doesn’t get along with chaos. She likes things neatly in order and well-placed, situations she can handle, and things going according to plan.

She already has a plan. Had one.

And Luz was not in it.

But, suddenly, as days pass, Amity finds herself getting closer to the human; suddenly, her plans start mattering less and less every time; suddenly, wearing a “top-student” star on her lapel is not what makes her get up on the morning.

And, suddenly, Grom it’s just a few days away and the note burns inside her pocket as if it was on fire.

She doesn’t dare. She can’t give it to her.

Because it’s nice to have a friend, it’s too nice, and Amity does not want to, nor can, risk to lose her.

So, she keeps the note on her pocket and tries to ignore its presence against her hip with all she has.

An hour later, it doesn’t matter anymore.

Because now Amity is Grom Queen and her worst fear is going to be widely cut open for all the school to see.

For Luz to see.

It’s being nice to have a friend.

It’s nice to have a friend

(Ooh)

The next night arrives. And her fears no longer matter, because Luz has jumped straight to occupy her place, because Luz is in danger, and Amity does not even think twice before going after Grom and step in, between the monster and the human that has slowly won her heart.

Her worst fear comes to light, as the most terrible pollution daunting the night’s air.

Amity can’t move. She’s sure she’s been turned to stone. The sound of torn paper rumbles in her ears louder than it should be, because, after all, it’s just a damn sheet of paper. But to her is thunder, one she’s sure she won’t ever forget. Her chest hurts, breathing hurts. Her eyes feel itchy when she kneels and picks up one of the fragments, the smaller one, in which she can backlight read Luz’s name.

Oh, Luz. Luz, who kneels and picks the opposite end of the paper, who reads quickly and suddenly understands everything…or almost everything. Luz, who reaches towards her, Luz, who says it’s okay. Luz, who tells her that, if she wants to, will go with her to the dance.

Amity’s heart jumps on her chest.

—Really?

Titan, Luz Noceda’s smile is almost a wonder of the Isles.

—That’s what friends do.

Amity smiles back, ignoring the tiny pinch of pain in her chest at the word “friends”, because that’s what they are.

Friends. They are friends.

The witch then banishes the feeling of rejection in favor of a warmer one that initiates in her chest and spreads through her whole body, cooed in the calm Luz’s eyes ignite.

Be brave, Amity Blight.

It’s a night to be.

—Well, if that’s settled… May I have this dance?

With a mischievous smile, Luz takes her hand and Amity suddenly feels she could kick the mighty Titan’s ass.

They defeat Grom together, hands tied and a perfectly improvised dance, and they dance a few more times, and Luz drags her to get a picture together because “We haven’t beaten a legendary monster for you not to take a photo with me tonight, Amity!”.

And Amity laughs, and enjoys the night more than anything, and stares at Luz like she’s all that matters in all realms.

Because they are friends, but how she would love to be more.

It’s nice to have a friend

Oh…

Luz Noceda is out of her mind.

Amity has suspected it for a while now, after seeing her facing Boscha, the very same Emperor and her terrifying mother. But when the human, that sweet, stubborn, beautiful, frustrating, amazing human shows up at her house, clothes ragged, smelling like smoke and with her library staff card in her hands, Amity is surer than ever that Luz Noceda is bloody nuts.

Nuts, nuts, damn it, absolutely nuts (and what’s that about taming a paper dragon?).

And Amity is head over heels for her.

So much she does not even think about what she’s doing, what she’s about to do. Wind ruffles Luz’s hair, brings Amity the scent of her hair and a slight hint of scorch, and then the witch ceases having direct line with her brain. The feeling of brunt plastic on her fingers reminds her Luz is there for her. And what she’s done for her.

The kiss on the cheek is quick. Just a tiny caress between her lips and Luz’s skin, which is as soft as Amity had imagined.

The kiss is quick and, at the moment, not confusing at all.

Confusing comes later, when Luz stares wide-eyed at her after letting out a surprised breathing in, reddened cheeks and parted lips. Her pupils dilate (that’s okay on humans, right?), her eyes glisten…and then her gaze lingers on Amity’s lips, on those very same lips in the witch still can feel the warmth and the tingle of the young human’s skin.

But she does not react.

Oh, no.

OH, NO.

Amity is not quite sure of what she says then, because all the blood in her body suddenly congregates on her face. Her tongue gets tangled on the “Why did I do that?” during minutes, while she hastily enters her house and collapses on the hall, and nothing, not even Ed’s chuckles or Em’s words of encouragement, manage to get her move away, face against arms and back towards the door.

She knows there is no turning back because friends don’t kiss on the cheek, do they?

No, they don’t.

A few days later, Hooty kidnaps Amity and locks her on some kind of basement no one on the Owl House had noticed before. Then, the youngest Blight stars in the most picturesque love confession the Boiling Isles has ever seen, because, opposite to what her panic attack had suggested her that night on her house’s porch, Luz does reciprocate her feelings.

Until that moment, Amity didn’t know one could burst of happiness. Now, she’s not so sure about that. Luz and her hold hands and Amity is sure she’s gonna explode, certain she can’t get her face to be redder, convinced that she’s happier than she’s ever been in her whole life. She knows her palms are sweating and her heart is beating hard against her ribs. It’s new, and terrifying, and wonderful.

They spent hours together, sitting on the floor of the Owl House, taking notes on the revelations they get from the echo mouse. Well, Luz takes notes. Amity just stares at her with tender eyes and a smile on her lips, memorizing how Luz sticks out her tongue while she focuses on writing every word, how the brown locks fall over her forehead, how her eyes gleam with that curiosity of hers.

Amity Blight is very, very much in love with her best friend.

No.

Not friend.

Girlfriend.

They are girlfriends now.

Light pink sky up on the roof

Sun sinks down, no curfew

Twenty questions, we tell the truth

You’ve been stressed out lately? Yeah, me too

Something gave you the nerve

To touch my hand

It’s nice to have a friend

They’ve been together for three months when all hell breaks loose.

Belos tries to kill everyone, they face him and the emperor loses on the Day of Unity.

Afterwards, calm arrives. Or almost.

They have made the greatest party ever seen on the Owl House. They have celebrated all they have achieved and more, and now everyone is dragged. Eda is soundly snoring on the couch while Rain snoozes at her side; King has curled up in an adorable ball in Luz’s room and Hooty is pestering Lilith to catch on while Hunter pretends to be bored when he’s, actually, exhausted. Willow and Gus leave with Ed and Em a few hours away from dawn.

Amity stays, because she’s not just going to return home after everything that has happened.

Eda doesn’t seem to mind taking her in; she’s done it already for weeks, and the Owl Lady has barely batted an eye while the purple-haired witch gradually slipped into the house’s daily routines. Even King seems to enjoy having her there. So, Amity is staying. Besides, she wants to relish every single moment with Luz before she has to return to the Human Realm.

It’s just for a while, and the portal works, so they are gonna see each other often, and they have their thingies to text, and Luz will probably spend more hours there than in her mother’s house, but, despite all that, Amity can feel the panic gulping on her stomach and rushing up her throat, making breathing hard.

The night is calm, the air is gentle there, at the Owl House’s roof; Amity hides in the silence and the darkness that surrounds them, in the small bubble Luz has created with her glyphs, dozens of tingling spheres dancing around them isolating them from the rest of the world. The witch nuzzles against her girlfriend’s side, warm and welcoming, buries the nose on the skin of her neck and breathes in deeply. Luz smells like a mix of sugar, paper, ink and something that is inherently hers, and Amity feels at home. Her heart soothes lightly, her angst apparently retreating; Amity is thankful, because she does not want to spend what’s left of the night anticipating something she knows will make her sad.

But Luz notices, because Luz always notices. She tugs at the blanket surrounding them both, as butterflies on their cocoons, and hugs her tightly. Suddenly, her lips are on the young witch’s hair, her hands on the purple-haired girl waist and there’s a telling blush on her cheeks. She tells her not to worry, that she will be back in no time, that it will only be for a while and that Amity is “gonna have to try harder to get rid of her”, making the witch chuckling sarcastically because how in the name of hell is she going to want to get rid of Luz? And, almost as if she can read her mind, Luz gives her a breathtaking wink and nuzzles the tip of her nose with the witch’s one, before getting lost in Amity’s eyes.

Words arrive without anticipation.

—I love you, Amity Blight.

Amity blushes to the hairline. She is paralyzed; blinks once, twice, opens her mouth, not knowing what to say, or do, or how to react, because, Titan, Luz Noceda has just told her she loves her.

Luz blushes, too, but her nervousness is never silent. So, the human lets out a small chuckle, half jokes about having broken her girlfriend, but, before she can enter on the spiral of fussy rambling, Amity raises a hand (a frozen one, by the way, because of them both she’s the cold-sensitive one) to her cheek and replies with unexpected calmness and domain of herself:

—I love you too, Luz.

And Luz beams, shining brighter than her glyphs, the stars and the dawn that peeks timidly over the horizon. She smiles and hugs her tighter, and Amity feels loved, worshipped, happy. And brave.

Her frozen fingers reach the human girl’s mouth; in her eyes there is a question that Luz answers with a tiny nod and a kiss to her tips.

When their lips meet, Amity thinks she will wait all the time she has to.

And Luz promises the wait will be short-lived.

Call my bluff, call you “babe”

Have my back, yeah, everyday

Feels like home

Stay in bed the whole weekend

It’s nice to have a friend

Luz snores.

Amity would have never supposed it, neither would have thought about it before knowing, but after months, years, hours and some moments of insomnia, she knows Luz Noceda snores. It’s a hoarse, constant, tiny noise, made with the base of the throat and accompanied by a soft “mmmm” when breathing out. Something kinda like a purr, and, to her surprise, Amity finds it weirdly adorable.

The witch remembers cheerfully the first night they spent together, after Luz permanently moved in the Isles when she turned eighteen: Amity spent more than half the night awake, fearing falling sleep in case her human would be nowhere to be found when she woke up and everything turned out to be a dream. Eventually, she did fall asleep, of course, out of pure exhaustion, but was woken up by Luz’s snores by dawn.

Maybe that’s why Amity is quite fond of her human’s snores. They convinced her that was real, that they had a life together ahead of them, that she was there and was never leaving again.

A new little noise coming from Luz, mouth half-open in deep slumber, takes Amity back to the present, to those first hours of the day and the few rays of sun that sneak lazily through the colored window. They are still occupying Eda and Raine’s attic, but they are already thinking about moving to a small house just for the two of them. Amity does not want a mansion, not even for all the snails in the universe.

It’s still early, very early. It has barely begun to break dawn, but old habits die hard, so Amity is awake. It doesn’t matter. She can stay like this, watching how Luz sleeps soundly at her side, feeling the heat emanating from her girlfriend’s body as if she had casted some kind of fire spell, feeling how she purrs every time she breathes.

The sun is starting to caress Luz’s dark skin, her shoulders and cheeks, those brown locks that fall carelessly over her forehead. Amity brushes them off with a lovingly touch that’s barely more than a brush, and Luz, as if she can feel her from the oneiric world, mumbles in satisfaction, melting the witch on a puddle right there on the mattress. Unable to help herself, Amity cuddles against the human and places a small kiss on her clavicle, exposed due to the oversized pajama t-shirt. Without waking up, Luz encloses her in her arms and takes her in, making a new little noise that tears a small chuckle out of Amity’s lips, places her chin on top of the witch’s head and keeps sleeping without the slightest worry.

And Amity is happy. Incredibly happy.

On that very same moment, on a dusty attic, sharing a very tiny bed with her girlfriend and during the most peaceful moment in her life, Amity Blight makes a choice.

She’s gonna marry her girlfriend someday.

It’s nice to have a friend

A/N: Not my best work, I'm aware of that, but I hope you liked it. I just love this series, and I love this two. THEY ARE GIRLFRIENDS, WORLD.

#lumity #luz x amity #amity blight #luz noceda #toh #toh fanfic #toh fanfiction #toh fic #toh spoilers #the owl house #GiveAmityABackpackPls

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daedalusdavinci · 2 years

Note

never say i never do anything for the ask games. riddlebat or bruharv for the ship thing

iiim gonna do r/ddlebat bc bruharv has too many layers to just lump into the same post i think and also this is more likely to wind up in the r/ddlebat tag on accident

send me a ship and ill tell you

who hogs the duvet

bruce. the man needs his pressure and weighted blankets

who texts/rings to check how their day is going

edward. he texts bruce like. constantly. and its really annoying. hes been insufferable ever since he figured out bruce was batman

who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts

easily edward. bruce has the more extravagant gifts but edwards far more creative with it because he doesnt have the money to burn

who gets up first in the morning

maybe edward but its not like. by a lot. bruce refuses to wake up until late oclock every day and edward will wake up just to spend more time trying to cuddle his way into the blankets bruce stole in the middle of the night

who suggests new things in bed

edward bc he has less impulse control and will just say things and will especially say things if he thinks itll embarrass bruce (it never does)

who cries at movies

i think pixar movies get bruce. i think its just the burden he has to carry as a father. i dont think edward cries at movies often bc hes too conscious of the fact that theyre just fictional nonsense. crying is for his OWN dramatics

who gives unprompted massages

edward bc hes touchy and bruce isnt and bruce desperately needs it and its a good excuse to get his hands on him in a way bruce can deal with

who fusses over the other when they’re sick

edward gets really fussy. bruce worries, but not as much, and hes not as helpful. edward is also not necessarily that helpful but he hovers a lot and he tries

who gets jealous easiest

edward. he hates it when other people steal his things

who has the most embarrassing taste in music

we all know bruce listens to nirvana we dont need to get into all the reasons hes cringe we know

who collects something unusual

edward collects puzzles so??? but bruce has weird eccentric rich people collections probably so????????

who takes the longest to get ready

edward but not by as much as you would think

who is the most tidy and organized

im going to say bruce but less because bruce is and more because alfred forces him to be

who gets most excited about the holidays

bruce because its an excuse to rope his kids into spending time with him. jason you HAVE to come home for the holidays its the HOLIDAYS etc etc

who is the big spoon/little spoon

ofc edward is the little spoon have you seen him

who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports

they are equally nightmares it is quite literally the foundation of their relationship

who starts the most arguments

edward, largely because he talks more and also because he likes to say things that antagonize bruce in order to maximize attention

who suggests that they buy a pet

neither of them need to because bruces kids are dragging in new ones every month

what couple traditions they have

cases and puzzles

what tv shows they watch together

edward is personally responsible for getting bruce hooked on really bad detective shows that they treat with all the vitriol of a bad reality show. edward is also trying to get bruce into true crime with the same intentions but its not quite as successful

what other couple they hang out with

for absolute shits and giggles im gonna say selina and talia bc i think itd be great

how they spend time together as a couple

its a lot of antagonizing each other either like actually or playfully depending on if its enemies or enemies to lovers

who made the first move

edward. naturally.

who brings flowers home

bruce (he uses flower code and eddie nearly cries)

who is the best cook

edward LOL and hes not even that good

#asks #ashysiashy

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gojosoath · 2 years

Text

Wilted Grace — Nanami/Gojo Fic

MINORS DON’T INTERACT! // 18+ ONLY!

pairing: nanami kento x gojo satoru x fem!reader (uses she/her pronouns) x poly relationship

tags: romance x angst x smut x polyamory x AU (no sorcerer stuff in this au, nanami and gojo are just normal dudes living in a normal world. lol) x fem! receiving oral x male! receiving oral x

warnings: smut x a bit of an age gap (everyone is a consenting adult fyi) x explicit language x mention of alcohol/alcoholism x mention of suicide x trauma venting x depression

Summary: (AU) The story follows Y/N, Nanami and Gojo in a polyamorous relationship; the three of them navigating the new dynamic relationship for the first time in their lives. The three of them begin exploring aspects both emotionally and sexually, finding themselves on a complex journey of facing their inner demons and also healing themselves.

Table of Contents

taglist: @adequate-superstar ; @chifuxu ; @moonlightchildz ; @crown5 ; @frankiesteins-world ; @peachytears11 ; @chaneleden ; @izu-fi

a/n: i am SO sorry for how long this took for me to update, i have been so busy with the semester ending. next week is finals week so after this semester, i will have time to update consistently! thank you for all the feedback, it helps me so much when you guys give me feedback!! also, i promise gojo will get more involved in this story, just give it some more time ! enjoy!

Part 7: The Weekend (1/2) (wc: 7.3k)

You and Nanami planned to spend the whole weekend together. Nanami said he would pick you up at your dorm on Friday. Nanami had also texted you that he would pick you up by seven but it was past nine and you sat on your bed, not helping but feeling deeply frustrated. You texted Nanami and he told you that he still needed to get some work done. It frustrated you because it seemed he always was working and never gave himself a break. Chloe had already left the dorm to go back to her house for the weekend so it was just you. You were trying to distract yourself by listening to music. You were restless and impatient, finding yourself not being able to sit still to the point where you began re-organizing your desk. By ten o’clock, Nanami texted you that he was outside the dorm.

You huffed as you grabbed your bag which contained the things you packed for the weekend. You locked your door and headed out to the front, spotting Nanami’s car immediately. You told yourself to let go of your frustration but you knew deep down, you were someone that can’t do that unless the issue gets resolved. You opened the passenger door and got in, where Nanami was already in wind down mode; blazer off, sleeves rolled up to his elbow and loosened tie. Despite you being annoyed with him, you still found him looking very sexy.

“Hey, I’m so sorry, got caught up with work,” Nanami says to you right away, his arm behind the headrest of your seat.

You close the door behind you and avoid his gaze, “It’s fine,” You say curtly, followed by buckling yourself in.

Nanami doesn’t say anything, he adjusts back into his seat and puts the car into drive, silently driving out of the dorm lot. You have your arms crossed over your chest and look out the window. You can’t stand it anymore, “Why did you need to work so late tonight?” You keep your gaze outside the window.

“I’m sorry,” You hear Nanami say, “I got caught up—”

You cut him off, “You’re always working!” You raise your voice. Nanami comes to a red light and he looks at you, you see the expression on his face, he looks like regret. You huff and turn your head back towards the window, a realization creeps into your mind; is this your guys’ first fight?

“I waited three hours after our original time for you to pick me up,” Your tone is lowered this time, but still holds irritation. “Everyday you stay late working, you never give yourself a break. I was hoping we could take the time to spend together tonight…” Your voice trails off.

The light turns green and Nanami begins driving again, he says, “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I lost track of time…”

You're raising your voice again, “You did the same thing to me when I wanted to talk to you!”

Nanami’s grip on the steering wheel tightens, he knows that you’re right. “It’s always the same thing, you already are putting work ahead of everything.”

“Y/N…”

“I started to think you were going to bail out tonight…” You confess so quietly you’re not sure if he even heard you.

Nanami wants to reach out to you, touch you, hold your hand. All he’s known for the past years is a schedule which revolved around himself. He’s always been a workaholic but believe it or not, it got worse after his relationship with Julia. He didn’t need to come home to anyone, he didn’t need to worry about someone else’s schedule. Now that he was finally experiencing a schedule that involved someone else in it, he had to admit, he didn’t think he was fully aware of how to go about it.

“I know you’re right,” Nanami tells you, hoping he doesn’t sound defensive, “I shouldn’t have stayed after work tonight at all. I’m not excusing myself…it’s just that I’m still not used to dating and having a girlfriend.”

The last part makes your heart flutter, hearing him call you his girlfriend. The words make you turn your head back towards him, his eyes are on the road. When he notices you looking at him, he looks at you as well. Not for too long, though, as he needs to watch the road. You feel your anger subside, and uncross your arms from your chest.

“I’m sorry,” Nanami says again, “I promise to make it up to you this weekend…” and then adds with emphasis, “our weekend.”

You whisper, “I forgive you, Kento. I’m sorry for raising my voice on you,” and reach with your hand, he understands what you’re asking for; the two of you lace fingers and your clasped hands rest in the compartment. Once you two arrive at his apartment, Nanami offers to carry your bag and you let him. The two of you take the elevator and the moment Nanami closes and locks the door behind him, you throw your arms around his neck. The gesture surprises him, he doesn’t even have time to set down your bag and keys. He settles with pocketing his keys and you push the strap off from his shoulder, the bag dropping to the floor.

You two kiss ardently, starting with lips moving in sync and then tongues swirling around one another. You love how saliva starts to build at both of the corners of your guys’ mouths. Nanami’s strong arms move down to underneath your thighs where you jump and wrap your legs around his waist. He tastes so sweet, tastes so…Nanami. His broad shoulders underneath your hands feel so lush, your mouth opens wider for him as he shoves his tongue further into your mouth. He walks over to the couch, not breaking the kiss from you. When he sits, you two pull from the kiss, foreheads pressed together. Your hands move to his tie where you play with it while he squeezes your hips.

“What did you want to do tonight?” You ask him breathlessly.

He gives your nose a chaste peck, “Whatever you want to, love.”

You begin to wrap his tie around your hand until it’s formed straight and you lightly tug at it, “How about we take a bath together?”

Nanami’s eyes widen at your suggestion, “Sure,” He carries you over to the bathroom, and on the way there, you’re giving him kisses over his cheeks which makes him break out into a cute smile. He sets you onto the bathroom counter and tells you he’s going to grab a pair of clothes for himself and for you. When he came back into the bathroom, he set the neatly folded clothes onto the counter. He stands between your legs and cups your cheek. His glasses are off and a few strands of his hair fall over his forehead which you find charming. Your fingers touch the strands of his blonde hair, pushing them back. You’re then moving your hand down to his tie again where you tug at it, a smirk playing at your lips.

“Let me see you take this off,” You pull him in by the tie so his lips are crashing into yours. You can feel him smiling against your lips.

“Anything for you,” He says against you and goes to remove his tie. You watch attentively, the way his fingers work at his tie like he’s done this hundreds of times and you know he has. He moves down to his wrist watch, clipping it off and setting it to the side with his tie. He’s wearing a navy blue dress shirt, the first few buttons are already done. He lets you unbutton the rest, biting your bottom lip as your fingers near down to his waist. Once his shirt comes off, you take him in; his toned abs and chest. Your fingers ghost over his chest, feeling like if you touch him any further, he’ll disappear from you.

Nanami lets you touch him as you please, your fingers start from his chest and move down to his abdomen, his skin under you feels warm. You can already feel the heat forming between your legs. He is endlessly sexy and the thought of him inside you pops into your head, making you feel dizzy for a few seconds. You wonder how his abdomen would flex while he’s thrusting inside of you.

Nanami’s fingers wrapping around your wrists break you from your thoughts, “What are you thinking about?” He brings your palm to his lips and kisses it.

You chuckle, “Just how beautiful you are.”

Nanami gives your palm another kiss, and looks dead into your eyes, “Y/N, you can do whatever you want to me.”

You blink, you know what he’s referring to but you want to hear him say it, “Like what?” Your voice comes out as a whisper. You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath.

“Anything you want,” Nanami specifies, “whatever it is, I know I’ll be okay with it because it’s you.”

You set your palms against his chest, “Then I’ll make sure to take care of you,” You tell him.

“I want to take care of you, too,” Nanami remarks tenderly.

Your hands go to his belt and you keep your gaze focused on the buckle, “I was wondering…” Your fingers fumble with the belt as you’re nervous to voice your thoughts, “if I could try, if you want to…”

Nanami cups either side of your face and makes you look at me, “What is it?” His thumb traces alongside your bottom lip.

“I-I don’t know how good I’ll be at it,” You falter with your words, and then add quietly, “I’ve never done it before…”

Nanami chuckles deeply, “You can tell me, what do you want to do?”

You finally meet his eyes, “I want to try giving you head.”

“Let’s take this to the bedroom,” Nanami recommends, picking you back up into his arms and taking you to his bedroom. He places you gently onto the edge of the bed and stands before you. His crotch is at eye level with you.

“Walk me through it,” You look up at him with doey eyes that makes Nanami go crazy. You look so innocent asking him to guide you, he vows to himself that he’s going to always put your pleasure before his.

“Can I try eating you out afterwards?” He asks.

You blush and smile, “Yes, I’d love that.”

Nanami cups the back of your head and you begin to unzip his pants, pushing them down until they’re at his ankles. He takes the rest off and you can already see the way he’s hard against his boxers. You bring your palm up against his hardened length and he stifles a moan.

“Does that feel good?” You ask him.

Nanami nods his head, “Yes, whatever you do, I know it’ll feel good.”

“I mean, how do I do it?” You ask sheepishly, “I know I put it in my mouth…”

“Just suck on it,” Nanami instructs you, “it’s up to you how deep you want it in your mouth. The tip is really sensitive, though.”

You bite your bottom lip from the smile forming at your lips, “Okay,” You say quietly and set your fingers at the waistband of his boxers. Before you pull down you lean in and kiss him right below his belly button. His skin tastes so good, your kiss forms into an open mouthed one, taking your time in memorizing the way his happy trail hair feels against your mouth. You find it adorable how his happy trail is also blonde, but darker than his hair color. Nanami gently rubs the back of your head and hums in satisfaction.

“So good,” Nanami praises you in a whisper.

You break the kiss and look up at him, feeling your chest swell at his compliment, “Please continue doing that.”

Nanami cocks his head to the side, a small smirk at his lips, you like that look on him; the way he looks when he teases you. “Do what?” His thumb comes to your bottom lips and swipes it.

“Telling me how good I am,” You say, “or you can even be a little mean.”

Nanami’s eyebrows furrow, “Mean? To you?”

You nod your head, “Yeah, I’m okay if you’re a little mean to me.”

Nanami looks amused, “I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”

You shake your head, a wide smile at your lips, “No, it’s okay.”

This time, it’s Nanami’s turn to ask innocently, “What should I say?”

“Like how you want to fuck your pretty slut dumb.”

The both of you stare at each other with stunned looks on your faces; you are shocked that you said that outloud and Nanami is shocked because he’s never called anyone a slut before. Not even in a sexual, dirty talk context.

“But you’re not a slut,” He clarifies.

“I know,” You say, “but I know you’re not actually calling me a slut because you look down on me. I just think it’d sound nice…coming from you, of course.”

Nanami leans down and gives you a kiss, forehead pressed against yours and noses brushing together, “Okay, but I want to make sure that you’ll be okay, that’s all.”

“I will,” You tell him and he stands back up, your fingers going back to his boxer’s waistline. You look up at him, not breaking eye contact with him. His fingers thread through your hair, holding onto it. You slowly pull down his boxers until his hard dick springs up, making you intimidated for a second. Nanami slips the rest of his boxers off, and you like the way his long legs look bare. Even his leg hairs are blonde.

He’s killing me, you think to yourself. Nanami reminds you that you two can stop anytime you want to but you reassure him that you want to continue. You remember the last time you tasted Nanami, it surprised you. You wrap your fingers around his hard length and you can tell the way Nanami’s breathing changes just from your simple touch. His eyelids flutter close and you see the way his Adam’s apple rises as he swallows. He feels good in your hands, he’s hard for you. You close your eyes and bring the tip of his penis to your lips, Nanami shudders.

You want to take your time with him, you don’t want to miss a single detail about him. The tip of his penis against your lips feels strange at first but then you’re moving his tip over your lips, starting from the top and moving to the bottom.

Nanami lightly tugs at your hair, “Look at me,” He rasps at you.

You snap open your eyes and look at him, he has that look on him which makes your legs tremble. His blue eyes are hooded with lust and love as he looks down at you. His chest is moving up and down along to his rapid breathing. His other hand moves to your face where he tucks a couple strands of your hair behind your ear. You love how big his hand feels against your face. You open your mouth slowly, the two of you holding eye contact, and you bring his tip against your tongue, wanting to get a taste first. You slightly wince from the overwhelming taste of how salty his precum tastes.

“You okay?” Nanami asks.

You nod your head and continue, putting him in a bit further, it’s odd to you to have something this hard in your mouth. Your taste buds are engulfed in the taste of precum, sweat and Nanami’s skin. You remember how he told you to suck and you get to decide how much of him you want inside. You don’t even have half of him inside your mouth. You’re not sure if Nanami is on the bigger side or if you just have a small mouth. Your cheeks hollow in as you begin to suck slowly and cautiously, waiting to see Nanami’s reaction.

Nanami throws his head back and whispers out a, “Fuck…”

You continue to suck, putting him slightly further into your mouth, your other hand placed onto the side of his thigh. You can feel the muscles in his thigh tense as you suck harder onto his length. The taste of salt and sweat travels to the back of your throat.

“So pretty for me,” Nanami admires you, both of his fingers in your hair, “you going to suck me off like the pretty slut you are?”

His words bring out a kick in you, not realizing the way you shove him even further that it hits the back of your throat and you choke, gagging. Nanami pulls out before you can even blink and he’s on his knees, holding your face as you choke into your hand, salvia over your chin.

“Sorry,” You say hoarsely, your ears and cheeks burning with embarrassment, “I didn’t think it would make me want to throw up.” Nanami wipes your spit stained chin with the back of his hand, he looks deeply concerned about you. He rubs small circles on your back and you don’t feel like you’re going to vomit anymore. “I’m good,” You tell him with a reassuring smile.

“We can stop anytime, you know,” Nanami reminds you.

“I know,” You say, “and I want to continue. Sorry for scaring you.”

Nanami kisses you on the lips, “It’s okay, love.”

You let out a small laugh at his concern for you, you love it, “I’m okay, let’s keep going.”

Nanami gets back on his feet, fingers holding your hair back as you grab his hard cock and place him back into your mouth. You already feel more confident in it, you suck on him, little by little putting him deeper into your mouth but not to the point of gagging. You’re well aware of how when people talk about giving head, it seems to mostly consist of gagging and choking. You weren’t entirely sure you were into that just yet. So for now, you sucked on Nanami, starting from the middle of his cock and pulling back, each time you took him little by little out of your mouth, making sure to suck harder than before.

“Oh shit,” Nanami’s grip on your hair tightens, “you’re my pretty slut, Y/N.” You nod against his cock in your mouth and shift your focus to his head, taking it out and giving him kitten-like licks. This drives Nanami insane as you watch his eyes roll back, “Fuck, you teasing me?”

You smile against his penis and lean in to give his head a small kiss. You put him back into your mouth, and Nanami advises, “Here,” He gently grabs your hand and guides it to his balls, “give it small squeezes and play with them. It feels really good.” You follow his advice, fondling his balls with your fingers. Nanami hisses and groans, “Baby, keep doing that and you’ll make me cum.”

You continue to play with his balls, giving it light squeezes while your mouth makes slurping noises with your saliva running down his length. He feels so good in your mouth, tastes so good, feels so close to you. You bob your head up and down, always giving his head special attention by sucking real hard. Nanami’s breathing beats against your ears, he’s lightly tugging at your hair and whispering cusses falling from his lips.

“Y/N…” He breathes, “g-gonna cum…” he fumbles over his words.

You keep him in your mouth, your other hand even moving to his behind, your hand making a small slap noise as you push him further into you for him to cum down your throat. His ass cheek feels so nice in your palm that you can’t help but give it a small squeeze. You want all of him down your throat even if the taste isn’t to your liking. You look up at Nanami to catch his cumming face and it’s priceless; his lips parted in a small ‘o’ shape with his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He lets out airy breaths as he finally cums into your mouth, and right before he does, you swear you feel his cock twitch slightly.

The taste of his cum is something to get used to; it feels like trying to drink glue that’s overdosed with salt. You try to swallow but struggle as you have to take him out of your mouth since you’re gagging again. The rest of Nanami’s cum splatters onto your thighs. Strings of your spit and his cum mixed together stretch from your lips to the tip of his penis. You find the image very attractive and so does Nanami as he says;

“Holy shit.”

You look up at him and laugh a little, Nanami gets back down so you two are eye level with one another. You don’t realize he has tissues in his hands until he’s wiping at your mouth, along with his cum on your thighs. Nanami’s touch is gentle and he has a focused look on his face as he finishes cleaning you up. After he’s done with you, he leans in, places a kiss to your lips and pulls back to say;

“My turn, yeah?” He gets on his knees before you, placing pecks onto either side of your knees.

You suddenly feel self conscious, “What if I don’t taste good?” You blurt the question.

Nanami reaches to cup your face in his large hands, “Don’t worry about that,” He eases you, “I already know you’re going to taste so fucking good.”

“I might not cum,” You admit quietly, “I’ve never been eaten out before.”

“Tell me what feels good and what doesn’t,” Nanami tells you, “we’ll figure out together what makes you cum.” He gives you a small kiss on your lips, “I’m going to take care of you, remember?”

You nod your head, feeling stupid that tears are brimming your eyes from how self conscious you feel. Nanami notices and kisses you beneath your eyes, the kisses moving down your cheek, to your lips, chin, neck and between your chest. His lips trail down to your navel, making your breath hitch in your throat. Butterflies erupt in your stomach from his kisses, he has your shirt lifted right below your breasts where he gives you open mouthed kisses His hands gently lift your shirt further until your breasts are exposed, the cold air making your nipples harden from the temperature change. Nanami’s touch is precise, his fingers on both of your nipples as he pinches both of them. Your eyes flutter shut and Nanami’s lips move up to your breast, where he kisses one of your nipples. Your body is buzzing with excitement and arousal, back arched and your fingers tugging at Nanami’s hair. He latches his mouth onto your nipple, running his tongue that makes your jaw agape. His other hand on your nipple continues to pinch it and he begins sucking on your other nipple. While he sucks, you feel his teeth lightly graze over your nipple and a whimper-like sound falls from your lips. All of a sudden, the warm feeling of your nipple is gone as Nanami moves his kisses down all the way to your stomach.

The kissing turns into nibbling right underneath your belly button, he begins to suck lightly and you gasp. He sucks for a little bit until he pulls back with his mouth making a ‘pop’ sound. There’s already a light, flushed pink color from where his mouth was. Your hands tremble, you feel like you’re already floating with ecstasy. You grip his hair on top of his head, the other hand set onto the bed, fisting the bedsheets.

Nanami licks the area where he gave you a hickey, “Fuck, you feel so good,” He says against your stomach, his voice vibrating against your skin. He looks up at you, eyes hooded with eagerness, “I’m gonna make you cum, okay?” You nod your head dumbfounded, and he places his hands underneath your thighs, guiding them so they’re placed over his shoulders. Your eyes widen the image before you; your legs over his shoulders with his head between, arms wrapped around your thighs where his hands rest on top of them.

He squeezes your thighs with his large hands and places soft kisses on the inside of your thighs. Goosebumps paralyze your legs, your grip tightening in his hair. Nanami looks up at you again, but this time his expression is different, he looks at you with mercy and in a desperate tone, he tells you;

“Please praise me, be mean to me, too. The way I was mean to you.”

His words bring something out of you, like a rubber band snapping inside of you, you pull his back head so his chin is pointed upwards towards you and you say in a demanding tone, “Eat me out until I cum, baby.”

Nanami moans against his closed lips, and begs, “Call me a slut.”

“Eat me out, slut,” You order him, “don’t stop until I’m screaming your name.” You loosen your grip on his hair so he can bring his face between your legs, and he doesn’t waste his time, he lays the flat of his tongue against your clothed pussy and runs it up until it reaches your waistband. You shudder from the impact, the wetness of his tongue soaking through your panties making your toes curl. His teeth graze your skin as he bites the waistband of your underwear and pulls it down between his teeth.

“Oh my God,” You let out a whine as you watch your underwear between his teeth, once it gets to your thighs, he uses his hands to pull at them apart until they rip before your eyes.

You gape at him, he throws the ripped material to the side, “I’ll get you new ones,” He tells you as he looks up at you. Again, you’re dumbfounded and can only nod at him. “Fuck, I can already smell you,” His hot breath fans over your pussy, and then he says in a stern tone, “Y/N, look at me. Watch me eat you out.”

You follow his order, and he brings his fingers to the folds over your clit. You flinch as you feel his two fingers spread the folds. He stops and looks up at you for approval to continue, you tell him that you’re okay. He spreads the folds even further and leans in, giving your clit a kitten-like lick. Just from that sensation alone, your back is arching. Nanami leans in fully, latching his mouth onto your clit, swirling his tongue against your clit in circles.

“Nanami,” You cry out, panting from the impact of his mouth onto your clit. “Fuck, that’s so good!”

Nanami moans against your clit, he begins sucking on your clit, earning a gasp from you. His nose is against your pelvic, he’s so immersed in eating you out that your vision is starting to blur. There’s tension building up in your stomach, the bedroom filled with your heavy breathing and the sloppy noises Nanami’s mouth is making against your cilt. He pulls back to get a breather, his lips and chin are covered with your slick which surprises you.

“Taste so good…” He says between breaths, “fuck, you taste so good, Y/N,” he leans up and smashes his lips against yours. You get a taste of yourself on him, it’s slightly salty, sweaty and sweet? He’s kissing you madly, his hand on the back of your head. He’s never been like this, it feels as if he’s unraveling before you and you’re obsessed. You kiss him back feverishly, and don’t even realize he’s asking you something between kisses.

“What?” You pant.

“Have you ever had your fingers inside yourself?” He asks again.

“No,” You tell him, “I don’t know, I’ve always been scared to try that.”

“Do you want me to try?” He asks, “I want to eat you out while my fingers are inside you.”

“Yes, yes,” You pull him in for another kiss, “fingers inside…now…”

Nanami cups your cheeks between his hands and looks at you through hooded eyelids, “You’re driving me crazy, holy shit. I’ve never felt this way…”

“Fuck me already,” You tell him, “I wanna cum.”

Nanami trails kisses down your body until he’s back down to your crotch. Your legs are back over his shoulders and he thumbs your outer labia. “Let me know if it hurts,” He slowly begins to insert his pointer finger inside of you, the whole time looking up to see your reaction. The two of you hold each other's gazes, you feel his finger begin to mold with your muscles. As he’s halfway in, you feel a sting and flinch. Nanami pulls his finger out but you encourage him to try again. Nanami puts his index finger in again, slowly and this time, it feels good. Once his finger is all the way in, he leaves it in like that and goes back to licking at your clit. You feel him start to pump his finger inside of you at the same time he’s eating you out.

You’re a mess, your fingers grip onto Nanami’s hair, your legs slightly shake from Nanami’s tongue on your clit and his finger inside you. His finger feels so nice inside you, it already makes you feel so full. You wonder to yourself if you already feel full just by his finger, how is it going to feel when his cock is inside you? Nanami shakes his head side to side, tongue flat against your clit. He’s moaning and groaning against your clit, he’s enjoying this.

“So good, Nanami,” You praise him with a mewl, “God, this feels so fucking good!”

Nanami latches his mouth back onto your clit and you feel a slight graze, it’s his teeth. He grazes your clit lightly with his teeth that makes you throw your head back and a yelp falls from your lips. The sound surprises you, not knowing you had it in you to let out such a sound. He goes back to swirling his tongue but this time the circles are tight. You feel him insert a second finger inside you, continuing to pump his fingers. You arch your back, your crotch shoving further against Nanami’s mouth but he doesn’t care, he only grips onto your thigh over his shoulder tighter. Nanami’s two fingers inside you rub against your upper wall, and he tries something new, as he pumps his fingers out, he slams them back into you.

“Fuck!” You practically screech, and Nanami continues slamming his fingers into you as he also works at your clit with his mouth.

At first, you didn’t think you would cum tonight, but there’s a buzzing bliss building up in your lower abdomen, your legs feeling like putty. The pleasure builds up until you feel like your body is being washed over with an erotic euphoira. Your whole body dissolves to the submission of rapture; if stars had a feeling, it would be this. Your body burned, it reached a level of bliss that felt quite literally like a mystical experience. You didn’t even realize the way you had your head thrown back and crying out Nanami’s name over and over again like a chant. Nanami continues eating you out until your body falls slacken from your high. Your eyes are closed, strands of your hair sticking to your forehead from a light sheet of sweat glistening across your skin. Your legs continue to shake and you feel Nanami give your clit a small kiss, crawling next to you and pulling you into his arms. Your face meets his bare chest and you wrap your arms around him.

Nanami rubs small circles onto your back with his hand. You start to feel like you’re coming back to earth, blinking a few times and then looking up at Nanami. He looks down at you, his hair is a mess from how much your hands ran through it.

Nanami cups your jaw with his hand, “How was it?” He asks in a whisper.

You don’t know but you feel your bottom lip quivering and tears slipping past your eyes, the realization that this was your first orgasm by him. You first orgasm in sexual activity with someone else. Nanami kisses your tears that fall, being patient with you.

“Sorry,” Your voice shakes, “I don’t know why I’m crying,” you let out a broken laugh, quickly wiping at your remaining tears.

“You can cry,” Nanami comforts you, his voice is so deep, it reminds you of what it feels like to fall asleep. “You can cry all you want, love.”

“It was amazing,” You tell him, “thank you for giving me such a loving experience with sex so far.”

You think you see Nanami’s eyes pooling with tears but nothing comes out. He lets out a sigh, “I think I’m falling in love with you,” He confesses.

You're speechless at his declaration, you’re not sure what to say, your mind is replaying the words he just said to you. All you can manage to say is, “Nanami.”

Nanami wipes at your brow with his thumb, “It’s okay, I know that sounds scary. I hope I didn’t scare you.”

You attest, “You didn’t.”

He purses his lips, “I already know I’m going to fall in love with you,” He adds softly.

Your eyes are filling up with tears again, and this time you know you can’t stop even if you tried, “Nanami,” You place your hand onto his cheek and give him small circles with your thumb, “I don’t know what love is” your voice cracks, “but I think you might be the one to show me what it is.”

You’re sure this time, there are tears in Nanami’s eyes and you watch as a single tear falls down the side of his face. You can see it in his eyes, in his face, all these years, he’s been through a lot. You see the weight of all his anguish presented to you in his face. You don’t know all the details of what he’s gone through, but at this moment, you don’t need to know the details. You just know that you and him made the best choice to go out on a date with each other.

Nanami leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, “I’m going to take care of you,” He says against your skin.

You sniffle, wiping at your nose from all the tears falling down your cheeks, “I’m going to take care of you, too, Nanami.”

┅

Nanami came back over to bed and gently nudged you to tell you the bath he ran is ready for the both of you. He had let you relax in bed with a blanket placed over you while he went into the bathroom and got things going for you and him. You sat up and Nanami carried you bridal style in his arms over to the bathroom. You clasp your fingers behind his neck and love the way his face looks from the angle you’re in. His blonde hair is still messy from your fingers. Once the two of you enter the bathroom, Nanami sets you onto the edge of the bathtub where your legs are dipped into the water.

Nanami steps into the bath and sits down, some of the water sloshing around as he gets settled in. His legs are so long that they are slightly bent so they fit the length of the bathtub. He puts his arms out for you and you get in as well, sitting where your back is pressed against his chest and your arms out the same direction as Nanami’s. He wraps his arms around your torso and places a kiss on your shoulder blade.

You put your hands over his arms, “Can I tell you about my sister?”

Nanami gives you another chaste kiss on the side of your neck, “Of course.”

You don’t know why you want to tell him such a vulnerable part of yourself, but you just do. You trust Nanami, there’s something about him where he’s shown you that he takes you seriously. “The reason why my parents were so strict with me is because my older sister struggled with alcohol from a pretty young age.”

Nanami runs his hands slowly up and down your arms, bringing the warmth of the water to the upper part of your body. “She got into it when she was in high school…” You continued, “it got out of control. My parents didn’t know how to handle it…” Your voice trails off as you can feel the lump in your throat building up. There’s a weight on your chest and you don’t realize your whole body is tense until Nanami is hugging you from behind, his face in the crook of your neck.

“It’s okay,” He whispers, “take your time, I’m here.”

A couple of tears fall down your cheeks and you hug Nanami back, your hands holding onto his arms, “Thank you,” You say quietly.

“My mother’s alcoholism caused our family a lot of problems,” Nanami fills in, “like I’ve mentioned before, my dad always acted like everything was normal. Since I have a younger sister, I was always trying to protect her from everything. Whenever my mom got out of control, my dad would just leave. I would always be the one having to deal with my mom…”

You squeeze Nanami’s arms and lean down to kiss his arm, “You didn’t deserve that,” You tell him.

“Mmmh,” Nanami’s chest vibrates against your back, “everyone in the family was aware my dad was having affairs. But no one ever said anything, not even my mom.”

You sit up, the water splashing lightly from your movements, and turn around so that you’re facing him completely. You tuck your legs underneath you and without saying anything, you hug Nanami. He hugs you back and you stuff your face in the crook of his neck, feeling yourself cry all over again.

You choke out, “My sister killed herself when I was only six years old.”

Nanami embraces you tighter in his arms, placing a kiss to the top of your head, “Let it out, I’ll hold you through all of it.”

Your cries transition into sobs, “It’s why my parents tried to control every aspect of my life, they were so terrified they would lose me the same way.”

Nanami holds your face and makes you look at him, “Breathe, Y/N. I’m here, you’re here with me.”

You hiccup, “I’m s-sorry! Sorry, I get really scared telling people this.”

Nanami wipes your tears, “Y/N, look at me.”

You’re blubbering, shoulders shaking and heaving for air between tears, “I was so young, I wish I could have saved her! I wish my parents had noticed that my sister was crying out for help! I wish she didn’t kill herself!” You’re wailing, your vision completely blurred.

Nanami’s voice sounds like he’s underwater, muffled, barely there. You can’t recall how you lost yourself like this; floating, blurred, separated. You don’t know how you broke down like this, revealing something very vulnerable and traumatic like this to someone. Barely anyone knew this aspect of your life, only Naomi knew about it considering you and her have been going to school together since kindergarten.

The feeling of cold water splashing against your neck startles you. Your whole body feels like it’s being electrocuted. And when you come back to life, the first thing you see is Nanami. It’s then when you hear it, the bathtub water is running, Nanami is leaned over, holding you with one hand on your lower back and the other reaching over your shoulder. Nanami shuts off the water, the bathwater you and Nanami sit in already feels cooler.

“There you are,” Nanami remarks softly, “I needed to get you grounded.”

You blink, and Nanami leans back again so his back is against the bathtub. You exhale shakily, your hand going up to your neck where moments ago was touched with ice, cold water. You suddenly feel embarrassed and look to the side, avoiding Nanami’s gaze.

“Hey,” He grabs your chin with his pointer finger and thumb, “don’t shut yourself off. I know what you just shared with me is precious, it’s a part of you and I’m not going to take that for granted.”

“Well, what you shared with me was vulnerable, too,” You comment, your voice still shaking from how hard you were crying. “Thank you,” You tell him, “for telling me about yourself.”

Nanami leans in and kisses you softly, pulling back where both of your foreheads are against one another, “I’m so sorry that happened to you, my love. You didn’t deserve to go through that and your parents should have handled it better.”

You put your hands on Nanami’s shoulders, they feel so strong underneath your touch. Everything about him feels strong, his body, his endurance and his nature. You slightly shiver and Nanami tells you it’s time to rinse off with a shower.

The two of you stand underneath the showerhead, this being your first time seeing Nanami’s hair completely wet. His blonde hair sticks to his forehead and he pushes it back with his hands, his muscles flexing in his arms and upper back. Nanami asks you if he can wash your body and you tell him he can. He begins with slathering the body wash on your shoulders, his touch is gentle. This is both of your guys’ first time being completely naked in front of each other and for some reason, it feels natural. You don’t feel embarrassed, if anything, you want him to indulge in you being naked before him.

Nanami’s hands rub the wash across your chest and before he goes lower, he asks for permission. Again, you tell him it’s okay and he spreads the wash across your breasts. His touch makes you lean your back against the shower wall, closing your eyes.

“Feels good,” You tell him.

Nanami’s large hands continue to massage your breasts, “They’re beautiful,” He’s closer to you now, his lips brushing against yours as he speaks, “you’re beautiful,” he squeezes your breasts.

The impact makes you lightly gasp, back arching and your hands flying up to Nanami’s neck for support. “Mmh,” You hum, “you already know how to touch me.”

Droplets of water fall from Nanami’s eyelashes, his hands continue below your breasts, “Let’s get you to bed. We’ll continue tomorrow, okay?”

You nod your head and Nanami washes the rest of your body. It’s then your turn, you spread the body wash over Nanami’s body. He’s built so well, you can’t help but be handsy, giving his biceps a squeeze, his chest a squeeze, even giving his ass a small smack, making Nanami smile sheepishly at you. After the two of you rinse off, Nanami dries your body with a towel, lending you his robe which is way too long for you. Once the two of you finish brushing your teeth side by side in the mirror, Nanami carries you bridal style once again over to his bed so you don’t trip over his robe.

You end up wearing one of Nanami’s shirts and he settles for only sweatpants. You take out the extra pair of underwear you packed and slip them on. You and Nanami get cuddled in, facing one another, he has one of his arms around your waist while the other gets tucked underneath his pillow. The two of you are too tired to even make conversation, the both of you fall asleep soundly, enfolded in each other’s company.

#gojosoath<3 #kento nanami #gojo satoru #nanami x y/n #gojo x y/n #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen au #anime fic #fluff #smut #angst #gojo angst #nanami angst #nanami and gojo #gojo au #nanami au #polyamory au #gojo smut

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teyvattherapist · 3 years

Note

Hello, hello~ I see you opened your requests and I LOVE it.

Can I request a gn!reader with Diluc, Xiao and Albedo who are trying to confess to the reader, but always failed because reader is too busy and is like "sorry need to go." or "I have something to do."?

In the end they confronted them and won't let them go so they finally can confess properly!

I hope you know what I mean ^.^

Have a nice day, have fun and thank you🙌

-Anon (because I don't want my friends to find out I read stuff like this ;-;)

Haha, I'm glad! Sorry for the wait and welcome to my blog! I hope you enjoy<3

tags: gn!reader x Albedo, Diluc, Xiao(separate), fluff, tsundere Xiao, flustered Diluc, Albedo is the only normal one for once wow, busy busy bees.

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Albedo

-The least annoyed over this as the others. Still kind of annoyed. But not nearly as much.

-Albedo is also really busy, so trying to clear his schedule to meet your schedule and then you're even more busy its.. He doesn't do good with relationships as is.

-The last to assume you are avoiding him tbh. He's smart but he doesn't understand social cues well enough to draw that conclusion.

-This is why he has lured you to dragonspine because he "needs help".

-cant run now bitch -Khoi Dao as Albedo probably.

Teal eyes watch you as you place the appropriate items where they need to go in his little camp. He had asked you to aid him in organizing his camp, every time he does it it just gets messed up minutes later anyways, he said. You reached up, placing some assorted trinkets on one of the shelves in the small camp. When you turn back towards the alchemist he’s holding his pencil to his pad of paper, but his eyes are trained on you.

“What else do we need to do here? I need to get back to Mond-”

“Ahem, I do believe myself to be in love with you. And I would like to pursue a romantic relationship should you feel the same.” Albedo sounds so casual about it you almost didn’t process what he just exclaimed. He gave you a moment, setting his notepad down on the small wooden table while he waited.

You let out an awkward laugh as you examined him, his expression remained as it usually did. “You’re not kidding?” He shakes his head. “Oh well-” You clear your throat, stepping closer to him and reaching out to him. He takes your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. “I do really have to get back to Mondstadt, but I feel the same.” You squeeze his hands and he returns the gesture.

Thankfully Kaeya’s advice paid off..

Diluc

-Help him. He’s tried so many times. What do you MEAN you need to go to Liyue for a weekend? Why do you need to take on Bennett’s commissions? Can you stand still for two seconds.

-No. No you can’t. Straight up thinks you’re avoiding him for some reason. Too salty to ask anybody for assistance in this matter. Just kind of broods.

-Sees you while he’s out doing his darknight hero duties and decides now is a great time to corner you in, what normal non Diluc people consider, the weirdest way possible.

-Aka he just kind of drops down from wherever the hell this Batman impersonator was hiding.. Directly in front of you. This was not how he intended to do this but it was getting ridiculous and Kaeya was making fun of him so here he is.

"Ah! Diluc! Archons, my heart." You press a hand to your chest as you meet his gaze. His jaw is set and he somehow seems more annoyed than usual. You lower your hand as his eyes flick away from your form, glancing down the dark streets of Mondstadt. "Is something wrong? You're out quite late." You smile at him and he finally looks back at you.

"Pardon my boldness, but given your recent schedule I have been unable to find a better time for this." He steps closer and you tilt your head, waiting for him to continue what he was going to say. "I would like to take you out to dinner sometime." He adjusts his gloves as he waits for the momentarily stunned silence to pass. Did he always do this when he was nervous…?

"Sure! I'll be free this weekend. Is anybody else joining us?" His smile is awkward, forced maybe? At your words.

"I meant romantically." Diluc clarifies, clearing his throat as warmth spreads to his cheeks. He could only hope his face didn't match his hair. Spoiler alert, it does.

You rub the back of your neck, not expecting this of all things on your walk home from commissions. "I'd love to, Diluc. I'll see you at five on Saturday." You pat his chest as you walk by him in the direction of your home. Leaving a stunned, very flustered wine tycoon.

Xiao

-THIS GUY. The most annoyed AND the most broody.

-He has never felt like this before, and so he’s stepping out of his comfort zone to even tell you! And then you just? Cut him off? And run away?!

-Tries only once, the moment you’re out of his line of sight he just sort of up and disappears from Wangshu Inn? He just leaves!

-You find out from Verr, because she wants to know if you’ve seen him. "Last I saw him he was going to tell you he likes you." She says with a smile as if she didn't know he disappeared because he didn't manage to say it. Sneaky.

-So this is how you end up trying to lure him in with offers of almond tofu and annoyingly calling out ‘Adeptus Xiao!’ over and over again like he’s a grumpy cat(he is.)

Black and teal swirls of smoke appeared before you and you could only sigh in relief, this had taken the better half of your day. The smoke soon dissipated, Xiao replacing it with his typical scowl. “What do you want?” His tone is harsh, harsher than usual. But at least he isn’t dead or whatever, so you had that going for you.

“I heard some very interesting information from Verr Goldet!” You inform him, holding up the container of almond tofu, it jiggled. His amber eyes snap to the almond tofu, reaching out and snatching the container from you with a huff. A grumpy cat, indeed. “I have a few days off from commissions, would you like to tell me anything?” You clasp your hands behind your back, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“No.”

“Okay! Well, guess I’ll go then- Check in with Verr Goldet ok?” Xiao grabs your wrist before you could take more than a step away from him, polearm disappearing to make room for your arm. “Hm? Something wrong, Xiao?”

“Do not make me say it.”

“Say what?”

Xiao huffs but doesn’t let go of your wrist, this was so embarrassing. He knew you knew, you knew he knew you knew. Why bother with this charade? Though, he supposed, this humour of yours is partially what had drawn him to you. Xiao mumbles something under his breath and you lean in closer to hear him. “This is stupid, I like you.” He mumbles, again.

“There we go, was that so hard? I-”

“It was.”

“I like you too, Xiao. Let’s go back to the inn and enjoy that tofu.”

#Albedo x reader #Diluc x reader #Xiao x reader #Albedo #Diluc #Xiao #genshin impact x reader #MAN this was hard to write for some reason? idk why #I'm not very good at writing Xiao to be honest #also Khoi Dao is albedo's va and that line is im 90% something he said #cant tell me it isnt canon bye #Anon I now dub u the Anon Anon #thank u for ur request #Anon Anon

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iadoreneteyam · 2 years

Text

The new hot couple

(um.. this takes place circa 96-99 cuz why not.)

The bitter aroma of coffee hit my nose when I walked into the bookstore. The little café at the front often took over the store, people rarely came for books anymore. I prepared for my long shift, the line way already ridiculously long. So long, if fact, I couldn’t see how anyone could bear to stand in it. My co-worker, Andrew, was beginning to become restless with annoyed customers lined up in front of him.

“Look who showed up.” Andrew spoke to me whilst I entered the door labeled staff only in a dying thick black sharpie scribbled on the door. I took my pink apron off the hook and replaced it with my coat. I walked out the door tying my apron. The cheap plastic name tag my manager had given me my first day practically falling off. Andrew turned to me wiping his hands on his ugly orange colored apron.

He shook flour from his fluffy brown hair. Andrew made pastries for the displays, but he occasionally held down my shift if I was late or I missed a day which he hated doing. He also hated my shift because he had to control the T.V. Our café had a small T.V that sat in a corner of the shop on top of a rolling stand with various V.H.S tapes sitting in a box next to it. It was a miracle no one tried to steal any yet.

“Thought you ditched me, Y/n.” The first thing Andrew did was hand me the T.V remote. I paused the current show that played on the T.V it was some kids cartoon found at the bottom of the box. Our manager probably found it discounted at the film store across the street. “I really can’t believe you think I would ditch my best friend.” I faked a frown and dragged my pointer finger down my cheek to imitate a tear. I gently pushed on the eject button on the T.V, the V.H.S came spitting out.

I quickly replaced the cartoon with a better suited movie in my hand. The side of the V.H.S labeled ‘SCREAM’ was popped into the slot. I walked back to the counter and began to take orders. No matter how many orders I took it seemed the line never got shorter, it was almost never-ending. “We need some more muffins up in the front!” I yelled to Andrew. Pastries never sold out as quickly as the coffee, well since coffee is our main selling point it would be obvious, but our coffee was practically below average.

It’s not like were the only café around. You can find three other ones just six stores down from here. So why did everyone decide to come here? The distinct sound or clapping and cheering from the civilians outside and the customers that crowded the shop filled my ears. Oh. Right. Our friendly neighborhood hero, champion, our man of the hour, Spiderman. The shop had the clearest view of the hero after a tragedy. He would always land in the middle of the main street which is exactly where the shop stood.

Some just wanting to be in the presence of the red and blue suited hero others hoping to catch him in a moment of weakness, just a slight falter in his cocky exterior would make headlines. Not that he wasn’t already, finding out who the mystery man was seemed to be the hit topic of everyone’s conversations, even mine. The skintight suited hero strolled in the shop.

“Can I get a black coffee, one of your like mini cake thingies, please?” His words all streamed together in one long continuous sentence. He didn’t think twice about taking a breath in between which he paid the price soon after when his breath started to stager. “Sure thing!” The simple fact that a hero would simply walk in like it was his everyday routine was shocking, but then again maybe it was. He could be a regular at the shop and no one would even know.

“What flavor?” I questioned the hero. Our mini cakes weren’t limited by any means, especially when it came to flavor. Our display was full of flavors, each of them being organized by the artificial color of the frosting. From red to purple. Spiderman began to tap his chin as if he was in deep thought. The gesture made me chuckle at his joking manner. “I don’t know. What’s your favorite?” He placed his elbow on the display, taking his hand and resting it under his chin.

He looked at me waiting for my answer. In all honesty, I didn’t indulge in the sugary treats the bakery had to offer very often but when you did you couldn’t deny how good they tasted. “My favorite is our triple chocolate mini cake.” I bent down to the clear glass of the display and slid the case open. I carefully took out the cake from its place and placed it on the counter.

I made my way to the other side behind the counter grabbing the pink box from the neatly put together stack. While I was near the coffee machine I decided to put on his coffee as well. I went back to the counter to box up his cake. The hero analyzed the design and decorations displayed on the cake. They were red and blue with mini spiderwebs on the cake and a long spiderweb trimming the bottom. “You dig it?” You began to place his cake in the pink box.

“Do you paint me as that egotistical?” He placed his hand over his heart in a joking manner. A flash strained your eyes. You looked over at the store window, paparazzi. Another flash strained your eyes, they had probably been there since the hero landed. Why hadn’t noticed them before?

“Looks like were going to be on the news as the new hottest couple-“He squinted at my name tag. “Y/n” I decided to make his job slightly easier knowing, or rather assuming, the difficulty of trying to see through the tiny holes in his mask made for sight and ventilation. It was quite fascinating getting to see our ‘neighborhood’ hero up close, getting to notice all the little details someone put into making his suit. The way the spider on his chest slightly glistened from the sun.

“You ever thought about putting it on the back?” I said ignoring his couple joke. Even with his mask I could see his interest quirked through his movements. “Your spider.” I made what I was talking about clearer by pointing at his chest before I turned to grab his coffee. Which would have been done long ago if the boss would break down and get us a new one. I mean, we use the thing like 100 times a day, including the fact we only have one just makes the whole thing obscene.

“I’d think it would sick, y’know.” In all truthfulness, it would look really really cool. “Well I’d be happy to take advice from a pretty lady like you.” He grabbed his coffee and his cake box and began to head for the door. The paparazzi going absolutely insane outside the café window and the customers inside taking their fair share of pics as well. “Spidey!” I called out for him as soon as his hand hit the door handle.

“You gonna pay for that?” I held my hand out and made a ‘gimme’ motion. “Oh, Right.” He laid his money on the counter and headed for the door again. This time I let him leave, I watched him attach his web to the next building before speaking with the paparazzi. “Ok, ok Sorry to say but I gotta head out, but lucky for you I’ll be here same time tomorrow!” He swung his way to the top of the building over. “And those pictures better be of my good side!” He swung from one building to the next after that.

#tasm #tasm peter parker #peter #peter parker #the amazing spider man #andrew garfield #spider gwen #gwen #tasm2 #tasm fic #fanfic #fanfiction #the amazing sp #x reader #x reader fics #peter x reader #i hope this does good cuz i tried so of

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taechaos · 3 years

Note

Can we have some jealous/sweet smut with textbook love couple?🥲 like I guess OC was wearing an outfit that was a little short and some guy was checking her out and trying to get at her but she didn’t even realize it and Jungkook gets mad and you know😏

this really went off the fucking rails 😷

"I don't see the point in you coming, we just go there to get high."

"Maybe she wants to try it," Taehyung shrugs before looking up from his phone with a mischievous grin. "What if she's secretly a freak–"

"I'm not, I just–" you sigh, reluctant to reveal your intentions behind wanting to tag along with Jungkook to a frat party. His reason is clear: his body is craving another drug trip. Yours is unknown to them, and you purse your lips where you stand uncomfortably in the student lounge. Why would such a motivated student go out on a school night to get influenced? Oh, no reason, just want to damage my organs because YOLO, right? "I want to spend time with you," you simply reason to your unwilling boyfriend.

Jungkook clicks his tongue, an indication of an incoming refusal, "It's a crackhouse with live softcore porn, and I know for a fact you'd hate it there. Remember last time?"

The issue is that you do remember last time, and also the time that you weren't there. Much like a fairytale, it ended happily both times, but the beginnings were rocky—and you didn't want to miss out on that chapter before jumping to the end. It ruins the tale.

"It's okay sugar tits, I give you permission," Taehyung says while playing a mobile game with his tongue sticking out, unaware of the stares he's getting in response.

"The fuck did you just call her?"

"I'm not asking for permission," you roll your eyes and put your hands on your hips to assert the tiniest bit of dominance on Jungkook who you hover over. The two men are relaxed in their seats while you're tense from knowing you're going to have to rebel against Jungkook. He isn't going to give in. "I will come."

"No, no you won't," is his plain and casual command. You send him a subtle glare but he merely raises a brow, as if challenging you to retaliate.

"You're not her dad, dude. If she wants to come, she will," his friend chimes in defensively.

"Thank you," you point at him with wide eyes.

"First of all, you're not even a part of this conversation," he tells Taehyung. "Secondly, I'm looking out for you as your boyfriend," he gives you a pointed look. "Thirdly, not her dad? Wouldn't you beg to differ." The suggestive hint makes your face flush in embarrassment, and his wink worsens it.

"Excuse–"

"You told me not to tell him!" The discussion ends when you march out of the lounge to cool off your heated skin along with your high nerves. This relationship did begin when you didn't take no for an answer, so what's the harm in doing it again?

—————

The night you lost your virginity, it was autumn and easy to figure out what to wear for a party: warm and cozy with some charming color. It's spring now, and a little more difficult to decide on what to wear without looking like a "high school girl" as Jungkook often describes your outfits.

Your roommate is more cultured in that field, and was kind enough to lend you her help.

Soyeon racks her eyes over your closet with a hand over her chin, elbow crossing her stomach as leverage for her other arm. Nothing is exactly screaming out sexy to her, and unless it's a cosplay gathering, your wardrobe needs more diversity; dressing shirts, skater skirts and knee highs are out of the question.

You wait to hear her thoughts while shifting in your seat on your bed until she quietly giggles. "And I thought I was conservative." She cranes her neck to you, not moving from her position depending on your answer, "Do you want to borrow my clothes instead? They're more... suitable?"

You nod. "Sure. I mean— if you don't mind."

You trust your friend to take care of the clothing portion, and it's with a few cringing "ehhh"s and "mmm"s that you are satisfied with the outcome of this minor quest.

A thin black turtleneck with unnecessarily long sleeves cover your knuckles like sweater paws, and the fabric hugs your torso tightly but ends just below your belly button. Soyeon found a solution to your discomfort with the slight exposure of your stomach by matching it with high waisted denim shorts and nude pantyhose. It's chilly at night, so it's the perfect outfit: doesn't stand out and fits in just right. You don't look like a high school girl nor a nun.

You kept your only concern to yourself because it's not much of a big deal, but it bothers you that the denim shorts don't reach your knees. By your standards, it's a little... inappropriate, but your roommate assures you that it's a common choice in this occasion. You let it slide.

—————

Your worries of being too early faded the moment you stood before the frat house that boomed with music and flashed with violet. You don't know the time code for parties, but you must be late considering the crowd inside. People are chattering loudly when you squirm past them, but there's enough space in the living room for you to breathe. No softcore porn or crack yet. Not many are dancing either. It seems all good here.

However, the search must go on because Jungkook is nowhere to be found in the living room. You hear deep howls from the kitchen and it piques your attention, prompting you to look there next. You can only hope Jungkook's not high yet, or has a girl on his lap.

When you walk in, the kitchen that is remarkably smaller than the living room is filled with men taking shots from the center counter, and Jungkook leaning against the other counter surrounding the walls with a joint in his hand. You stand still in the doorway, suddenly nervous of his reaction, but relieved that he's alone nonetheless.

He inhales a deep breath and the small smile on his face falters when his redshot eyes drag themselves onto you. He stands straight once you lock gazes, and you grin at him before he shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw. You unconfidently strut over to him, reaching his side in only a few seconds as he glares at you.

Only a syllable comes out of his mouth before his attention diverts from you to another guy nearby in a flash. "Hey, eyes off," he calmly demands the man behind you. You glance at him when he raises his hands before looking elsewhere. You presume that's sign language for backing off, and your shoulder blades move awkwardly at the guess of what he might've been looking at. "What the hell are you doing here?" he brings your focus back onto him.

"I wanted to check up on you," you lean into him to not yell out your words.

"Check up on me?" He's incredulous. "Do you realize where you are? You shouldn't be here."

The moment is interrupted when Namjoon and Taehyung enter the scene, and you stop gnawing on your inner cheek. You don't have any answers you want to tell him, and your muscles relax when Jungkook's friends notice you.

"Oh shit," Taehyung smiles widely, "you're actually here." He appears to be sober and you smile back at him. Namjoon on the other hand, is as high as a kite as he brings you into a light hug. Your eyes widen and you awkwardly pat his back, fixated on his dazed expression.

"I haven't seen you in so long," he says as he ruffles your hair. Jungkook slaps a hand over his face at the interaction and drags the skin with his fingers. "How have you been? Do you want a molly?"

"Dude," your boyfriend intervenes, annoyed. "Why are you back here?"

"Alcohol." Namjoon disappears behind you to search the fridge and cabinets and you look at Taehyung again. He's drinking in your awkward stance as he licks his lips while Jungkook takes another drag from his joint.

"Girl, you are fucked," he says when his eyes trail back to yours with a snort. "You came here in those clothes, when you have a boyfriend? Jungkookie, I have some bad news for you. Your cock isn't even satisfactor–"

"Seriously though," Jungkook tells you with furrowed brows, "why are you here? I told you not to come." His reaction is influenced by the weed, not so mad as he is confused by your rebellion without reason—you must have a cause for waltzing in here, especially after his warning.

You hum in discomfort and shift your weight onto your other foot. "I already told you..."

"Don't give me that bullshit–"

A yelp cuts off his words when you jolt forward from a slap to your bottom. It wasn't a hard hit, but the surprise factor has you throwing yourself on Jungkook. Taehyung's jaw drops while your boyfriend barely reacts.

"If that isn't the cutest ass I've ever seen," the culprit chuckles without taking his eyes off your butt. He's almost slurring his words, and his lopsided grin doesn't seem intentional; he must feel too numb to form a full smile. You watch him in disbelief much like Taehyung. "You got any coke?"

"She's taken, man–" he takes on the peacemaker role, but it's futile when Jungkook gently removes your arm from his chest and walks forward to the stumbling man.

"Oh, my ba–" his face scrunches in confusion when his cheeks are grabbed and squished, leaving his mouth gaping. You peek from above Jungkook's shoulder to see him raising his joint before stubbing the burning tip onto the man's tongue. A scream resounds in the overcrowded room when it makes contact, and you fall back into Taehyung's arms while the deafeningly loud music tries to drown out the pained sounds. It's barbaric.

"Ah, shit," he pushes you to the side and pulls back Jungkook, who's still abnormally calm. The whole situation feels surreal, and it seems as if no one realizes this isn't a dream.

The man stops struggling against Jungkook's hold when he's released and falls to the ground, crawling back while sucking his teeth. He's whimpering and afraid. "I didn't know," he speaks with a lisp, pathetically begging, "I apologized! I-I'm sorry!"

You cautiously take a few steps back, almost like you're trying to flee the scene, but it just seems like a good idea to avoid Jungkook's temper right now. Just as you're about to turn around and sprint, you're held back by a hand on your shoulder. No words are exchanged when you're dragged away, a bruising grip on your forearm as you stumble out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

"Some fucking deja vu, huh?" your boyfriend fumes, basically shouting out his words without glancing at you to notice your struggles to keep up with his pace.

Lunatic Jungkook: Unlocked.

You trust sober Jungkook to not hurt you when he's angry, but after seeing him commit such a painful act, it's more than reasonable why you're currently terrified of him while he's high. To think you were so comfortable with him earlier because he's high. His calmness makes him all the more unpredictable, and you're unnerved when he shoves you inside a random bedroom. Some reversed deja vu.

"I'm going to ask you again: why the fuck did you come here?" The only attack is with his eyes that send daggers at you, but you keep your guard up in fear of what he'll do. You have to tread lightly.

"I was worried what would happen if I wasn't here with you." Honesty is your only approach in this instance because when he's glaring at you like that, it conveys that he doesn't want to hear any more of your ludicrous excuses.

He rolls his hand, gesturing you to continue. You're nervously forcing out your words, "I didn't, um... know how you would act around other women while you're on drugs when I'm not around." When his face falls into monotone, you defend yourself, still tense, "Last time, you kissed Soyeon and before that, another girl! I-I had my reasons..." Your voice grows smaller, just like how you feel under his gaze. Your eyes flicker to your shoes.

"And those shorts?"

At your silence, he takes a few steps towards you and leans into your face, slightly bending to level with your height. He tugs on the hem of your shorts harshly, emitting a flinch from you. You don't return his stare. "What the fuck are these? You're stupid enough to come here, but coming here in these shorts? Are you okay?" He taps your cheek, encouraging you to look up at him, but it's both humiliating and intimidating. "I know you're not a slut, baby, but why are you so adamant on acting like one?"

"I wanted to fit in," is your weak defence in a mumble, gaze still downcast. You shouldn't feel so ashamed.

"No, you told me you wanted to make sure I wasn't cheating," he counters. "Don't fucking twist things now. You didn't need to dress up to see if I was fucking someone else."

Your round eyes shoot up in panic at whatever he's insinuating, "I didn't want you to realize how paranoid I was."

"So this was your grand idea?"

"Ah," you groan, just wanting this argument to end already. You know what he's thinking: "I was stupid. I didn't learn my lesson, and I ended up hurting someone because I'm stupid."

You release a relieved breath when he gives you distance to sit on the twin sized bed. He's facing you as he says, "When I tell you not to do something, you don't do it. I'm not trying to dictate you, you understand that, right?" You meekly nod and clamp your mouth shut when he continues, "You pull this shit again, I'm going to hurt someone else again. Simple as that. I don't care if they did anything, I'll hurt them as long as it gets you to listen to me."

"Okay," you exhale, shyly walking between his legs at his beckon. You tower him, but it's not helping your confidence as he places his hands on your hips.

"Okay," he whispers back as he plays with the waistline of your shorts. A moment of silence passes, and you allow yourself to calm down enough to sit on his lap and lay your head on his shoulder. "I like the high school girl look better on you."

You sheepishly grin but decide not to respond for the safety of your friend. He pulls on your pantyhose and it slaps against your thigh when he releases it.

"Do you forgive me?"

"Can't stay mad at you," he murmurs before pecking your lips. It's you who leans back in to extend the kiss, and he responds gently. It ends when he chuckles, "Passive smoking, hm? You feeling okay?"

You nod and lock lips again, his hand soothingly rubbing the side of your thigh when you clasp your hands behind his neck. Maybe he's right, maybe you did get a buzz from the secondhand exposure, but it doesn't influence your actions as you lower one hand to his chest. It just happens to fall on his crotch.

"Mm," he pulls away with a suppressed laugh, "you're actually high? Your hands just got a mind of their own."

"Then tie them," you offer in a breath. His brows shoot up, but his surprise doesn't prevent him from unbuckling his belt singlehandedly.

"A bondage kink? Who are you and what did you do to my nerdy girlfriend?" His joke emits a small laugh from you but his smile falters once his belt is in his hand. "Take your shirt off first."

It's no longer a guess when you slip out of the turtleneck in a flash; you are under some spell when you stand and hold your wrists together. The leather grazes your skin and sends delighted tingles down your spine.

"I hope I'm not going fucking crazy and hallucinating this," you hear him whisper behind you. A laugh escapes you and interrupts his internal monologue, and the buckle is clasped. "Now for the shorts..."

He stands up, pressing himself against you and peeking from your shoulder to undo the button of your denim shorts. You can feel his erection grinding against you when he tugs them down to falll at your ankles. You step out of the garment and turn around. When he gets out of your way, he gestures you to lie down and your hands are pressing against your back when you do so.

You watch him take his short off before straddling you and leaning down for another kiss. It's merely foreplay; he cups your clothed pussy and runs his hand down up and down, prompting you to sigh into him. He bites your bottom lip just as he slips his fingers past your underwear, murmuring against your lips, "Can you take me right now?"

"I think so," you shy. "I want to."

"Good," he sighs and removes his hand to massage his erection while undressing you completely. "I think... this is a better lesson."

"For what?"

"You don't know?" he pushes the cup of your bra to pinch your nipple mercilessly, and he hears your pain through your small scream. "A guy got burnt for no reason then?"

"No, no, I know," you gasp when he twists your sensitive nub, "because I'm stupid and I shouldn't have ignored you." Your back lifts off the mattress when you clench your teeth to suppress another scream. Despite your bounds hands, it's him talking down on you that renders you submissive.

"Mhm," he's condescending in his speech, "he did something wrong, but so did you, right? This is just the consequences of your actions, isn't it?"

It's his stinging touch that makes you agree to whatever he says, and you whine, "Yes!"

That's the only confirmation he needs to push his jeans down to his thighs along with his briefs, and your now bare pussy shies away from his cock by bending your knees. He pushes your legs even closer to you, and your efforts went against your intention by exposing yourself to him completely now. "You're so pretty," he admires with slight awe, "but I can't be shallow... You don't deserve to treated well."

His words make you shutter; you didn't do anything that wrong, but you aren't courageous enough to voice your thoughts. Everything he's told you today have turned out right, so he knows better to make that call. You stay unresponsive, head turned to the side to avoid his fierce gaze.

"No, you should hurt as much as he did," he mutters to himself as he trails a finger down your folds. You shiver and his gaze travels to your shy one. "What? Are you scared?"

You are unconfident with your denial, "No."

"Look at me then."

It's with a deep inhale that you glance at him, and your breath is caught in your throat when he shoves himself inside. Your whimpers resound brokenly in the bedroom where the bass of the music drowns it out. You feel the vibrations, but it doesn't serve as a distraction and you're aware that Jungkook can pick up your pained noises. He's simply ignoring you, but you can't dwell on the thought when he lets you adjust for a few seconds only before ramming into you. Your whines aren't enough for him, after all, what's a better indication of pain than a scream of agony?

His thrusts are out of rhythm, but quick and rough nonetheless as his hands push you deeper into the mattress as if to hold you down before taking your nipple in his mouth—more specifically between his teeth to bite.

"Jungkook!" It's not a gentle bite, and you know it wasn't meant to be, but you try to squirm away nonetheless. Your flight instinct is futile because his strength overpowers yours, keeping you in place with his palms while you struggle and cry.

"No more, please!" You wail when he finally sits up, and he watches you bounce back and forth due to the force of his thrusts. It's so pleasing, especially your moans, but mixed with your bitching... it's irritating.

He grunts, the sound bordering on a growl before he says, "You deserve worse."

"I don't! I didn't do anything." Your protests fall on deaf ears, or rather ears that need you to shut up. He wraps his hand around your neck in a chokehold, daring you to speak with his grip as he moans through a bit lip.

"Your ass was hanging out in a room filled with men," he speaks in between moans while you gasp to catch your breath, sounds of pleasure getting suck in your throat when he slams deep enough to hit your sensitive spot. "You didn't listen to me! Ah..."

Your windpipe is getting crushed the tighter his grip gets, and your cheeks start to flush until he drops his hand to lift your hips, spanking you while you wheeze. "You want attention that bad?" His words are mere gasps when he starts to lose himself, now gripping your waist to match his thrusts for you.

"Only yours," you muster out as your eyes roll to the back of your skull, letting him do all the work while you get closer to your climax.

"Lying whore." He slaps your tit before completely concentrating on his release, inching closer and closer by the second teasingly. It builds up in his stomach, and his abs contract and tense while he pistons his cock inside you faster, not drained enough to get sloppy just yet. It's when a loud moan resounds in the room, reducing to pants with slow drags of his length. "God, yes..."

You feel it when he cums, painting your walls white and warming up your insides, and he rubs your clit so fast that it has you seeing stars in mere seconds. It's so quick, the high, and your moan is music to his ears; he's too spent to enjoy it any longer before he collapses next to you.

"Fuck, please let me tie you up again," he breathes while you recover from the euphoric sensation he brought you by twitching and seeing white. You're panting when his hand falls on your stomach.

"Please... I'll be nicer if you let me. Hm?"

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