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#he's so compelling and talented
alliluyevas · 2 years
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to me the single scene of criminal minds that i think about most often is the one in i believe the second season in that episode where the two brothers are releasing people in the woods and hunting them in some rural mountainous area and one of the victims manages to escape and stab the younger brother and the team stumbles upon him and initially assumes he’s a victim and he’s crying and calling out for his older brother gideon is holding his hand and comforting him and then slowly comes to the realization from what he’s saying that he’s one of the unsubs and you see him wordlessly contemplate pulling away and then he decides not to and he continues holding him until he dies. and then looks at him with this look of mingled pity and disgust and deep sadness. i wouldn’t even say that was one of the best episodes overall but that one thirty-second scene is like burned in my brain.
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theversevoyager · 1 month
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In a world where time was the currency, he found his worth. An alternate universe, yet so familiar. A talent, unseen, now revealed. In a realm where hours were spent, and minutes weighed heavier than gold. He discovered a hidden gift, the power to manipulate time. With each tick and tock, he danced through the ages. A poet in this parallel world, his words bound by no rules. Time flowed like ink from his quill, as he wove tales of old. The past, present, and future intertwined, as his verses painted a tapestry of existence. He became a legend, a master of the clockwork arts. His gift, a double-edged sword, for with great power came great sacrifice. As time continued to march on, he knew he must choose. To save or to change history, only he could decide. And so, the poet stood at the crossroads, his future hanging in the balance. The end.
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chuluoyi · 7 months
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heartbreak hotel
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- gojo satoru x reader
so you're going on a three-day-two-night getaway trip with the one and only Gojo Satoru. the catch? you two have just broken up.
genre/warnings: crack, jealousy, a dose of pettiness, hurt/comfort, fluff, zero angst i promise, suguru being a good buddy to his boyfriend best friend
notes: inspired by a very real life story :))) anyways, it takes place in an au where suguru never left and all is well with our little meow meow catoru the wonderful colored manga panel by the talented @redbluenight! this was so much fun to write (that it turned into a whopping 3k+ word, so sorry) and i even made a playlist while on it ;)
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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"He's intolerable!"
There were many things that led to the end of your relationship with Gojo Satoru, but if asked one word to sum it, then that was it.
When you started this thing with him, obviously you had never planned on how it would end―who started a relationship with that sort of mindset anyway? But if you could choose, you definitely wouldn't want it to end with dramatic shouting match that left you in tears.
Anyways, some things were just not meant to be. You refused to spend your whole life crying over that smug bastard, and so you moved on.
However, if there's one thing you've learned about plans, it is that whenever you already make a foolproof one, the world always has some funny way to mess it up.
Like this time.
"I... I remembered saving for months," you stammered dumbly, staring blankly at Shoko in front of you. The realization felt like a spiritual ascent. "I paid for that damn plane ticket and hotel with my whole saving. I can't just throw them away."
How could you possibly forget about this? This graduation trip that had been planned between your group of Satoru, Suguru, Shoko and yourself for months now. It was meant to be a getaway, a celebration of your most significant achievement after four years of barely getting by on exorcising curses and not dying in the process. This was supposed to be the ultimate milestone celebration in your life.
"Then don't," Shoko replied simply, twisting the cigarette in her mouth. "I'm still going though. No way I'm wasting that money."
"But!" you vehemently hissed. "He will be there. It means I have to see him for three days straight!"
Your cringeworthy breakup happened just barely a week ago. You had sworn in front of Gojo Satoru that you didn't want to see his face again, and yet in less than a week from now, you and him would literally share the same space―again?
"Can't I get a refund?"
"This late? Nah, it's like yay or nay at this point."
You slumped in frustration. Were the gods making you swallow your own words now? You were left with no other choice. Your frugality and tendency to get broke often compelled you to make the decision.
You were going on this trip whether he was there or not.
Meanwhile, on his end, the said smug bastard was brooding, groaning and pacing over the same predicament. Satoru had two options and had weighed them all, and somehow he still arrived at the more seemingly no-good decision.
"I'm going, duh!"
"You are?" Suguru asked with a hint of surprise in his voice. "Well, might be the first time I've seen someone agree to go on an overnight trip with his ex..."
"Hmph. I just don't like squandering money."
Suguru snorted, unimpressed. “Satoru, you have an entire fortune. The airfare is just an amount you'd donate to charity. Besides, you have wasted more than that.”
“Well, I want to enjoy my youth too! I’m going—who cares if she’ll be there!”
He was still miffed, recalling the day your argument spiraling out of control. How could you say those hurtful things to him?
“You never take things seriously—heck, I’m not even sure if you’re ever taking me seriously at all! Satoru, you’re always acting all high and mighty, but you’re just a selfish little twat!”
No way. The last time, he was left in the dust, not being able to say anything in his defense. So now, he would use this chance to be the one who had the last laugh. He was going, because he was 70% sure that you wouldn’t let your hard-earned money go to waste.
And he was right when two days later, he found you at the airport with a bitter scoff upon seeing him.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he moistened his lower lip in that obnoxious way. “Missed me?”
You walked past him, tone lacing with disdain. “Get lost, Gojo.”
He couldn’t help the prickling sensation in his chest when you dismissed him just like that. And the use of his last name—whereas you used to call him with all sort of available pet names? Now that was just low.
“Nah, you can’t get away from me that easily, Y/N,” Satoru sniggered. “You’re going to see me for the next three days, so suck it up and enjoy the sight,” and then the idiot proceeded to pump his fist in the air. “Wooo! Kyushu, here I go!”
Suguru and Shoko merely observed your icy interactions in silence, occasionally exchanging glances from time to time.
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ITINERARY ::: DAY 1 — BEACH DAY @ SEASIDE HOTEL
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After the three-hour flight, the four of you arrived at Karatsu, one of the main highlights in your trip—or back then, one you and Satoru handpicked yourselves.
You swore you still had your heart frozen for him, so you didn’t know what stirred it when you saw him giggling and doubling over in carefree delight, surrounded by those beach girls in skimpy bikinis.
“Hey, handsome~ is this even okay?” one of the girls in pink thong scooted closer to him, asking him with this cheap seductive grin. “Won’t your girlfriend be mad?”
At that moment, you could’ve sworn Satoru threw you a glance from the corner of his eye before replying with a triumphant bark. “What girlfriend? I’m wholly and happily single!”
The hell?
A rush of squeals grated your nerves as they swarmed your ex-boyfriend, prompting you to stalk away in irritation.
Absolutely not. You wouldn’t let this fine establishment be your heartbreak hotel any longer.
Gojo Satoru knew fully that he was petty. He let you see that on purpose just to rile you up, because frankly, he still felt like he didn’t deserve your messy breakup at all.
But when you were no longer in his eyesight, suddenly the urge to entertain these strangers dissipated, and what remained was this hollow sensation in his chest. You not paying him attention somehow made him crave it all the more.
He recalled how you pointed out that playing in the clear waters would be your ideal graduation gift. He specifically recommended this place himself and you had agreed. He remembered planning all of this, dragging Suguru and Shoko too just to make it merrier. To keep that cute smile on your face.
You were supposed to fool around with him in the clear waters of Matsubara Beach, splashing and pulling him underwater.
And yet in reality, he was toying with these questionable women and in your eyes, he was nothing but an irritable twat.
He didn’t see you again until evening, during dinner time. And the sight before him made him want to pull Suguru to the side and trap him inside his unlimited void.
"Really?" Your clear voice rang in his ears, every bit the same as when you would energetically question him with those doe eyes of yours, as you peered at Suguru. "We should go together tomorrow then!"
His eyes twitched.
What has his life come to? Reduced into seeing his ex-girlfriend possibly going on a date with his best friend?
He almost hoped that you'd stage up your pettiness level. It was worse because unlike him, you didn't make this up just to gauge his reaction.
That night, in their shared hotel room, he ignored Suguru completely, as well as silently waiting for him to divulge where he and you were going tomorrow.
"Hey Satoru—"
"Shut up, I'm trying to sleep."
It was obviously a wrong move, because Suguru apparently caught the hint and stayed quiet as a mouse throughout the night.
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ITINERARY ::: DAY 2 — HOT SPRING @ KUMAMOTO
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Or at least, last he remembered, that was the agenda.
Until he saw that only Shoko who was there, idling around at the hot spring area.
"Where are the others? Why is it only you here?"
She shrugged. "Geto said he's going to try the local specialties. Dunno where. As for me, I'm going to enjoy this onsen to the fullest."
Shoko noticed his irritated scowl, and a sly grin crept across her face.
"Heh, jealous much now, Gojo?"
Meanwhile, you and Suguru went to various dessert shops in town as per his invitation. Perhaps he took pity on you because you really seemed not to be having any fun at all after you stormed off from the beach area yesterday.
"Mmm! This is tasty!" you remarked, munching away the three-colored dango happily. You were so engrossed in eating today that you no longer had any room to think about anything else, which was a good thing.
Suguru smiled. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself now." However, he appeared to have something on his mind, prompting you to hum and tilt your head in curiosity.
"No, it's just... so it's really over between you and Satoru?"
You let out a snort. "Yeah. Totally. He's an ass."
"He really is miserable, you know..."
"Nah, he doesn't look like it."
Your friend sighed. "Honestly, what was the argument even about? Both of you usually didn't take it this far."
You didn't want to go back to that topic, really. But Suguru was always the one with cooler head, and after his kindness today, maybe you could spare him a detail or two.
"It's a lot of little things that have piled up, you know," you mumbled. "It's probably just how he is, and I know. But I finally reached my boiling point. Why can't he try to see things from my perspective? Everything that's important to me doesn't seem to matter to him, and relationships need two people, not just one who resigns and the other who does anything he pleases."
And until now, you doubted if Satoru even realized what he did wrong. That was what hurt you the most. Like you were so small in his eyes, like he could toy with you and get away with it.
As you expected, Suguru would understand your point. "So that's how you feel... Yeah, I think I get it."
You thought he would end it at that, but then he went on. "I'm not defending him, Y/N. I think some time away from you would do him good, but later, maybe you can talk this to him? See if he will understand?"
"I already did, so many times." You narrowed your eyes at him. "Not to offend you, but it awfully seems like you're defending him, Suguru, despite you saying otherwise."
"I'm saying this because sometimes we can forget that Satoru is different," he explained sympathetically, and to be honest, you were surprised by his statement. "He is born exalted. He has a hard time comprehending things that come to us naturally. I just think it's a pity if... you can actually fix this, but just because bad communication, you lose the chance to."
Have you properly communicated this to him? Now that you thought about it, most of the times you would just get mad and point at the little things he missed, but never actually told him how it made you feel.
Your mind was still muddled with the fact Suguru had shed light on even after you got back to ryokan where you were staying for the night. The two of you were in for a surprise though as apparently there was a festival happening there.
Everything seemed to spark with glitters. The bamboo lanterns, lights, the gentle breeze. It created an undeniably romantic ambiance, to be honest.
You didn't know when Suguru slipped away, but suddenly, you found yourself alone amidst the visitors and dim lights.
And you found yourself to be immensely lonely.
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Satoru spotted you in all your solitary glory amidst the sea of people in this godforsaken place.
No, actually it was a pretty great inn and attraction, but this trip had been horrible so far, and so he just felt everything was bad.
But at that moment, bitterness no longer clouded his mind, because you were so beautiful, bathed in the glow of the lights that Shoko had forcibly dragged him to see. If it were up to him, he'd spend the last night sleeping his heartbreak away, but now that he was here, he was thankful to see the dazzling sight of you that reminded him once again just what made him hopelessly in love with you.
And why he didn't get his sorry ass back into your good graces faster.
He retraced everything had brought both of you to this point. Your last fight was about what again? Him not telling you any news when he would be back from a mission?
No matter how he thought about it, it was a trivial matter. So what made you mad? He kept thinking, and then he imagined switching places with you. What if you didn't text him at all for three days straight? How would he feel? Oh, he would be despondent, of course.
Now he was starting to understand. He had done that so many times he could no longer keep count. Granted, you would be angry.
Satoru suddenly know how to rectify this. He can make things right. He would be damned if he didn't. He just had to pull you aside, and he was going to when he lost sight you in the crowd.
Okay, now he was frantic, as the longer he didn't see you, the more his opportunity to make amends slipped away. He moved through the crowd, pushing people in the process, earning ire and questionable glares and yet he cared none for it.
He nearly cursed at how his phone kept vibrating incessantly inside his pocket. Begrudgingly, he took it out and almost gasped.
You are calling him.
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Bang! Bang! Bang!
It was so incredibly stupid. You just went to pee for a bit and then somehow got yourself locked in the toilet. It might have been fine, but then the lights unexpectedly went out, scaring the shit out of you.
How could such a upscale inn experience a sudden power outage and have doors that wouldn't budge? It was worse when no matter how many times you punched the switch or banged the door, it refused to turn on or open.
You were trapped. Honestly, it took everything you had not to cry.
And so you did the next best thing aside from forcing your way out. You called your friends. First, Shoko, and then Suguru, but both of them somehow didn't pick up the call even after you had called them three times each.
That left you with one possible person left. In your frenzied mind, it didn't even register in your mind what you were doing as the line connected and the last person you'd call on the other side answered.
"Satoru," you shakily breathed out, almost crying—or were you already? You didn't know as you focused on his sharp intake of breath, most likely surprised at how rattled you sound.
"Y/N? What? What is it?"
"I—" you wheezed, hating how helpless you sounded, yet still forced the words out. "I'm locked, it's dark—and it's just so—help! Help me please! I tried getting Shoko but she didn't—"
"Okay, sweetheart, calm down. Calm down, okay?" Satoru's voice brought you some comfort and it helped to reduce your tears, missing how he slipped up by calling you with his usual pet name for you. "Tell me. Where are you?"
"The women's restroom… I think it’s in the east wing."
"I'm coming, okay? Don't panic. I'll be there. Just stay on the line."
You heard his ragged breaths as he muttered several "coming through!" and "excuse me!" from where he was. It made your heart lurch. Despite the spiteful breakup, he rushed to your aid as soon as he realized you were in some kind of trouble.
Was this okay, to let your relationship end just like that?
"I'm outside." And then you heard his voice, much to your relief. "Y/N? Are you there?"
"Yes!" you shouted over the steel door.
You then heard how he rummaged to get the door open, and faintly hear him cursing it. "It won't open."
You wanted to sob, but then Satoru told you with an absolute tone, sounding so sure and demanding that compelled you to comply. "Get away from the door. As far as possible. Take cover."
Oh God, was he going to do what you thought he might do?
...he did. The next thing you knew, the door—and much more than that—was destroyed, and a rush of cursed energy was everywhere. After the blast subsided, you instinctively made a run for it, and you didn't know how, but you ended up stumbling into him.
Satoru caught you in his firm embrace.
"It's okay. You're okay," he cooed, whispering in your ear gently, urging your shivering body to calm down. "You're safe now, Y/N... I'm here. You're safe."
There was always something about your trembling form that made him want to tear down everything and anything in his path just to make you feel secure. And there was always this sense of rightness whenever you snuggled in his arms. Both desires clashed in a contrasting need and want and Satoru could do nothing but keep you close to him, torn between the two.
He kept his hand on your spine, and you clung on him, burying your face in his broad, sturdy chest.
Nevermind the fact that you technically broke up with him. Nevermind that ever since this botched trip started, it was the first occasion in which the two of you held a proper conversation without spewing bravado or sarcasm.
Afterwards, he led you away from the site, and he figured it would be best to go somewhere quieter rather than the festival, and so here you were, at the deserted lounge.
You had calmed down for the most part, and slowly you felt heat in your cheeks. In hindsight, you could've tried using cursed energy to blast the door too, why didn't you think of that earlier?
And yet, unaware of your internal musings, Satoru's thoughts were occupied with another matter entirely, and blame it on his insensitivity—he chose this moment to drop it without hesitation.
"I want you back," he declared, void of any hesitation. "I'll be better, I promise. Those things you hate—tell me, and I'll make sure not to repeat them again."
He wasn't the sharpest when it came to picking up on your feelings, but Satoru vowed that if it bothered you that much, then he would do his best to avoid doing it.
But you... you were still trying your best to grasp the situation. Amidst the plot twist you just experienced tonight, his blatant proclamation was the last thing you expected so you only managed a "What?"
He held your gaze, eerily serious. “I don’t want to break up. It’s hell. We can—I can still fix this.”
He looked sincere, unlike the usual empty promises he’d give you after you went off on him. And suddenly, you understood.
“…really?”
“Yeah. Just give me another chance. I’ll prove it to you,” Satoru said, visibly impatient now. “I won’t give you up. This literally is the fight of my life right now.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle, despite yourself. If there was anything that you had learned tonight, it was that apparently you and him were still salvageable.
“And how will you prove it?”
“Just so you wait and see, sweets. I’m gonna relight your feelings!”
It was beyond corny that he took a line from your favorite song. And both of you burst into a laughter at the sheer silliness of it.
You sighed, but this time of relief, in stark contrast to your earlier sighs that afternoon. You were giddy as a smile perched on your lips. “Fine. Let’s give this another shot.”
Satoru felt the tension in his shoulder melt with your answer. A genuine, wide smile emerged from the bottom of his heart and lit up his face.
“Now, this whole trip has been kind of terrible so far, don’t you think?” He made a brief pouty face for a moment before reverting to his mischievous grin His remarkable expressiveness—reminiscent of a child's, in your opinion—never ceased to fascinate you. “I have a pretty good idea where we should go next.”
You furrowed your brow in confusion. “What do you mean? Tomorrow’s our last day.”
“No freaking way!” he exclaimed, whipping out his phone to launch the travel agency app. “We are going to redo our graduation trip. This time just the two of us!”
There were many things that led to the end of your relationship with your dork of a boyfriend, but as you reflected on it, you realized that there were also many reasons for you to stay together, especially when he reached for your hand and held it firmly in his grasp.
You were unable to contain your excitement and bubbling with melodious giggles that he adored so much as he whisked you away from Kumamoto in favor of the last bullet train to Kyoto, where your long-awaited true vacation would begin.
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Epilogue
“I told you this was a horrible idea. I fucking told you.”
"Can you blame me? Dude was about to throttle me in my sleep."
"Geto," Shoko scowled, her disbelief at his simple answer evident as she gestured wildly with both hands towards the wrecked lavatory, emphasizing her point. "Look—now that he had gone and done it, we're the ones footing the bill for the destruction of property!"
Gojo had blasted the washroom with a freaking Red. And the innkeeper promptly held both Shoko and Suguru responsible since their roommates were captured on CCTV and had vanished without a trace.
Suguru rubbed his neck sheepishly. "I genuinely thought it was a good idea. I didn't expect Satoru to go overboard though," then he threw her a stink eye. "And hey, you were complicit in this too!"
Shoko mumbled a string of curses as she pulled out her phone, snapping some pictures of the undeniable evidence of Gojo’s doing, and then made a call. Suguru frowned.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm reporting him to the headquarters!"
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dawndelion-winery · 2 months
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I Met You Once, I Loved You Twice
Celebrity au! Their persona, and then their true self, it seems like you were meant to love them regardless
Ft. Childe, Furina, Kaveh, Scaramouche (Wanderer), Wriothesley
[Idol! Childe, Actress! Furina, Racer! Kaveh, Artist! Scaramouche, Athlete! Wriothesley]
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Childe:
You knew him before the fame, before the glitz and glamour; when he was just Ajax
And as horribly sappy as it sounds, you've loved him since day 1
Falling in love with Ajax was like slipping on ice while you're hiking up a snowy mountain
You get a little too caught up in the scenery, a tad bit too comfortable being around him
And suddenly, you fail to notice the patch of ice and slip, tumbling down the cliffside, your affection for him snowballing into something greater
And so you support him through his dreams of becoming an idol, writing to him while he's a trainee, making care packages for him
Anything for your Ajax
And when he finally debuts...
Oh boy, all the fans calling themselves his partner? They could dream on
You called dibs on him before any of them even set eyes on him
Besides, how could they even fall for someone just from watching them perform?
That was answered for you the first time Ajax excitedly insisted you watch him in the MV
You're not exactly proud of your reactions to seeing him come up on screen, but he seemed happy enough about it
Falling in love with the idol Childe was like drowning
Holding your breath, choking and flailing
It's dizzying until you finally succumb, which doesn't take long at all
And once he's converted you into a fan?
He's such a little shit, whipping out the idol persona for a smidge of free fanservice just to get you flustered at the most random times
And he's back to your sweet old Ajax in seconds too, acting like nothing's amiss
Furina:
The world's greatest actress finds that the world is her stage
Ever perfect, ever entertaining, her splendour is unparalleled
It was impossible not to adore such craft, and you easily fell in love with her acting just as one would fall asleep, gently and blissfully without even realising
Immersing yourself in her works, you develop a sort of fanaticism, delving deeper to find her interviews
She's beautiful whether or not she's filming, you find
So much so that you can't help but wonder how much of it is true
And so when you do, by some trick of fate, meet her, you feel compelled to ask
It's a dark, foggy evening, and you're taking a brisk walk along the forest
Who would've thought you'd bump into her then?
And so you strike up conversation, eager to interact with your favourite actress
And when you broach the topic of her facade, you notice she gets a tad bit defensive
So you apologise and back off, meaning well, hoping to see her again
And you do: these late walks become a regular thing, and slowly, you start to know her for who she really was
It's almost like meeting her for the first time all over again, and it very well may have been if you don't count the act as meeting her
Falling for Furina, your friend, was like taking an ice bath
Frigidity seized you almost instantly, and yet, as you stayed longer, the more pleasant it felt, almost soothing in a sharp sort of way
Kaveh:
Not just anyone could race in what was known to be the pinnacle of motorsports
And Kaveh? He was brilliant, the light of Ksharewar, the face of the team
And frankly, a very charming face
Often regarded as one of the prettiest on the grid (if not the prettiest)
He's really raking in the viewers
Imagine people seeing *1* edit of him getting out his his car post race and suddenly they're invested in races
Ofc being a new fan, the gatekeeping you have to put up with is ridiculous
"I bet your favourite driver is Kaveh because he's handsome."
As if he's not one of the most talented to ever grace us with his presence?
He gets so involved with the car's engineering honestly he should just build the car himself too atp
He is speed on the track
And falling for the light of Ksharewar through the television screen is an adrenaline rush in and of itself
So bumping into him in real life was just breathtaking
You sincerely hoped you didn't come off as some crazed fanatic with the way you rambled on about how much you loved seeing the way he pushed the car to its limits and everything
Overall it was a great once in a lifetime experience and you planned to treasure it
Until it was just a once in a lifetime thing and you seemed to bump into him a fair bit ("Hey aren't you that fan that completely went off about the car that time?")
Once you'd started talking to him more frequently, the rush of meeting him started to fade into less of a frenzy, and more of a bubbling excitement
Falling in love with Kaveh was like taking a breath of fresh air and letting the chilly breeze fill your lungs, a crisp clarity creeping through your senses
But from the faint flush of pink on his cheeks, perhaps the opposite was the case on his end
Scaramouche(Wanderer):
You've heard of artists with depression, now what about artists with borderline personality disorder?
The first time you'd met him, you didn't even know it was him
You'd been at an art gallery admiring the works signed off by Kunikuzushi when a stranger stood beside you
"You've been staring at this sculpture for a pretty long time."
"I like it. I don't think I've ever felt such yearning embedded in stone."
The stranger didn't respond, but nodded in acknowledgement and continued to stand beside you
Falling for Kunikuzushi was like falling in love with shadows
It was no more than a feeling, a yearning, a desperation much like what he portrays in his works
Everything you knew about him seemed to drown in sorrow, loneliness, and self destruction, yet having never met him, you were sure this was only one small aspect of his being
Which left you ever curious
Curiouser still was that same stranger with the odd navy blue hair who always seemed to happen to bump into you at these exhibitions
Without fail, he'd prompt you to speak, as though digging for your thoughts on each piece
Not that it bothered you, the stranger felt familiar, and had become a welcome face
Warm was his presence and gentle was his gaze, yet a detached coldness kept you from him
He was beautiful, you noted, like moonlight, with all it melancholic splendour and grace, like the paintings and sculptures you loved so dearly
And so you found yourself falling for a beguiling stranger whose name you knew not
You loved him like the sea loves the shore, always reaching for him, but pulling back in uncertainty
"You're oddly silent today," he notes.
"I was thinking of how much this piece reminds me of us. It's weird, isn't it? How I'm seeing things, drawing links to some stranger."
"Not really. I made it like that for you. We don't have to be strangers."
Wriothesley:
Baseball player Wriothesley who has his fans swooning at his charming grin and chuckle
A real heart stopper (he could beat me with his bat)
Fans adore him regardless of whether they're simps (they are) because he's good at his job
The only people who hate him are fans of the opposing team
The way his arms flex with every swing, in this essay I will-
He's built like a tank and plays like one too
So obviously you'd expect him to be a pretty confident kind of guy
And he is
He's a charmer, a smooth talker, and painfully level headed
So why was this beefy cannon suddenly bashful over your incessant praise?
Just look at him, which of his fans haven't fallen completely smitten?
Falling for the star player was like stepping into a big city for the first time, and being wowed and blinded by the lights and massive skyscrapers
But Wriothesley was a soft person at heart
And oh so very vulnerable to affection
For every compliment you uttered, he'd readily deflect it, but when they just didn't end?
Boy was he at a loss
He did end up treating you to coffee, so that was nice
But he was very obviously avoiding your gaze which he deemed to raw for him to meet
Yet it is that exact raw adoration that he can't quite dismiss
He knows how superficial fawning can be, yet there's an undeniable gratification when it comes from you
So he keeps you at arm's length, letting you in ever so slightly, but never too close despite not pushing you away
Falling in love with Wriothesley was like planting a seed and nurturing it as it grows
The germination takes place out of sight, the results unnoticeable until it finally sprouts as a fragile sapling
Discouraging as it may be, with continued work, it does get easier
And when he's secure enough to trust you entirely...he promised to return all your efforts tenfold
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Taglist: @ryuryuryuyurboat @yinyinggie @mx-kamisato @chaosinanutshell @haliyarobin @irethepotato @boundedbyfate @favonius-captain @aqui-soba @tiredsleep @sadlonelybagel @mastering-procrastinating
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mphountitled · 5 months
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𝐁𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 | 𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐞
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▪︎ Pairings: Anton x Fem!Reader | Sungchan x Fem!Reader
▪︎ Synopsis: Using the Campus weirdo to get back at your boyfriend probably wasn't the best idea.
▪︎ Warnings: Language, ToxicRelationship, Possessiveness, Obsession, Cheating, Under the table shenanigans, Smut (+18) Minors Dni, Dub/CON, Dark Fic, Rough Sex, Perv!Anton, Degradation Kink, Slight!Incel!Anton, Madonna/Whore Complex, Slapping, Grinding, Premature Ejaculation, Ownership Kink, Please proceed with caution
A/N: One moment I'm listening to 'Riot' by Summer Walker, and the next, this exists. Hell is empty.
Playlist when writing
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Two things occur when Anton finds himself stealing intermittent glances at you over the black rims of his glasses. He realises that one: You are squirming in your seat, not from discomfort because of the October chill drifting to the lecture hall, but because he is doing something to you.
Anton holds his breath as he leans slightly back in his seat, delving deeper into the shadowy corner of the room as he steals a gaze down at his neighboring seat, more specifically, your lap under the desk.
Anton’s breath fumbles when he notices a hand, that clearly did not belong to you, being suffocated by your soft and exposed thighs. Sungchan, who sat on the opposite side of you, remained utterly unfazed while you continued your squirming.
The rest of the student body seem completely... oblivious to the lechery happening right under their noses. Even Anton begins to doubt his own existence. Whether he really hears the sweet and soft "Fuck," that escapes your lips in a small moan.
Is Anton truly that invisible that you and Sungchan just did not give a fuck about the fact that he was seated on the other side of you?
Whatever the case may, or may not be, Anton finds himself unable to think of anything outside of feigning nonchalance while he tried to steal sideways glances as your boyfriend fucking wrecking you in the middle of a lesson.
Anton had only his imagination and the pretty noises that escapes your lips intermittently as material.
"Please,"
His ears peak up at the sound, and Anton's fists curl in his lap at the desperation peppered in your voice. In his periphery, your head is craned up at Sungchan on the other side of you. Anton pictures your eyes wide with as you made a mess all over Sungchan's fingers.
You're pressing up against your boyfriend's side, your pretty little whining and whimpering being drowned out by the Professor's presentation.
"Please," you breathe softly, "I'll be good next time, I promise-"
Anton can not possibly hear what Sungchan has to say from this distance, but it succeeds in pushing your hips forward under the desk.
Anton not only feels the incredible need to cum in his sweats... untouched, but he also feels red hot anger at Sungchan for denying you something you clearly wanted so badly. Anton immediately thinks that if you were his, he would never purposely punish you like this.
If he ever had to punish you, it would be because you deserved it and it would be fair. He could never keep you from cumming because he craves to see you break for him.
Anton is compelled by his fury to push his own hand under the desk until he's rubbing his hard-on with 3 quick swipes before he stops, in fear of actually cumming in his pants in class. Poor Anton was left to shift uncomfortably in his seat until the end of a lesson.
Meanwhile you were sharing your sweet nothings with Sungchan- the endlessly charming, endlessly talented golden boy athlete. There was no reward at the end of your denial, however.
He watched you two part with a kiss, Sungchan dragging you in by the small of your hip while your arms splayed over his bowed neck. The excitement at having you away from your boyfriend brings him to his second realisation: he is following you, quite aimlessly, to the east side of campus.
This is a shadowy, forgotten place buried under a perpetual blanket of dew and autumn leaves. A place for illicit affairs to blossom under the awning of the campus willow tree. A place of open captivity for couples to safely act out their public sex fantasies by rolling around in tall grass surrounding the lake. Anton, evidently, has no business following you here. His fist clenches at his sides as that nauseating, fucking annoying feeling begins to simmer in his lower abdomen. A feeling beyond the lust that he always felt when your body was near. A more complicated, less simple feeling: strong unchallenged longing.
You encapsulate everything he has come to abhor about Academia. The modesty that befalls your bowed head when the professor praise you. The grace with which you accept your criticism and grammatical errors, nodding slowly to the feedback from your professor while clenching your Lit essay like a bomb on the verge of detonating. He hated how easily it all seemed to come to you… how quietly you moved through the academic year, haunting the mahogany hallways like an apparition of constant ennui.
He cannot find any valid excuse for this atomic interest in you, although Anton finds himself quite comfortable chalking it all up to boredom. All his papers that are due have been handed in and the papers that are not due are quickly approaching the same fate. There is nothing left for him to do, besides stand behind the willow tree and watch.
You stop at the banks of the horseshoe lake. He watches, again in vexing interest as you peer down at your phone before your shoulders deflate infinitesimally and you're discarding your phone to dry, brown grass.
It is not difficult to guess that not all was well within your relationship. You were everything Anton could ever need, but his roommate was a different case. Sungchan had a wandering eye.
Anton may not be very athletic but his ocular muscles work just fine, thank you very much.
Soon, you're kicking off your shiny horsebit loafers and undoing the sideways buttons of your pleated skirt. You're quite literally undressing in front of him, letting every piece of invasive clothing fall into the tall grass like the Venus painting by Boticelli… or was it Picasso?
Anton doesn't really care because you're naked now, and you don't know he's there. To any outsider, you're nothing special. You have a perfectly average body tied to a perfectly average girl… but why pray tell, is his cock stirring in the confines of his pants?
Guilt is not a thing Anton feels when he pushes his hands into his pants with his back pressed to the tree.
“Fuck-” He whispers, eyes zeroing in on the swell of your breasts.
He briefly entertains the fantasy of bending you over and fucking you from behind on the dry banks of the stranded lake but even that proves to be too much. Soon, he's emptying himself into his hand and you haven't even taken your panties off yet.
So clouded, is his mind by vast, episodic thoughts of fucking you and hurting you and making you scream, that your voice, now significantly closer, has him gasping and opening his previously clenched eyes. He shifts those wide eyes from the banks of the river, where you initially were, to where you now stand a few footsteps apart. Still naked, although your arms are crossed in front of your ample chest.
"How long have you been standing here?" The question is devoid of any hysteria, Anton notes. This eases him significantly until he's monotonously and honestly responding.
"Since you arrived."
"You followed me here?" The first sliver of emotion creeps into your voice, but Anton's eyes lower to your ample chest. With your arms still crossed, your nipples are mushed against them, revealing only a sliver of your areola, which is enough to have him hissing infinitesimally as he rolls his head back.
"Did you even hear what I said?" You ask, having yet to unfold your arms. Anton only shakes his head as his tortured eyes zero in on those pretty fucking tits once more. It's like you were teasing him unknowingly and it made his cock ache in a viscious amalgamation of pain and pleasure.
"I could call the cops," you hiss, still standing naked in front of him, "I should call the cops,"
"Are you telling me or asking me?" He grits out too through his teeth, "Either way you're not gonna be able to cum until that boyfriend of yours let's you."
You freeze then, and he knows he has you. Finding a window of opportunity in your uncertainty, Anton begins to prowl closer. Your alarm bells are ringing loud in your ears, but your feet are planted firmly in the soil as you crane your neck back. His shadow descends as he towers over you. Not taller than Sungchan, but still so incredibly tall.
While Sungchan wore his intimidation on his sleeve, it presented itself very differently in Anton. It sleeps. It sneaks up on you. It draws you in. Up until this very moment, Anton had been nothing but a non-threatning face in your Psych lecture. But you're looking up at him now with stark and raw fear coursing through your veins.
"I know," he says, in a light, almost effeminate voice. "I saw you."
Anton brings a large hand up to push down on your arms until they were swinging to your sides as he casually, almost hypnotically adds, "You're a slut, aren't you?"
You're not sure if you're nodding because his other hand is on the side of your head, fingers splaying over your entire profile. "A fucking pretty little slut," He nods to himself, black eyes glassy, "That's all you are-"
"Fuck," you squeak out, and the sound brings Anton immediately back to the events not so long ago. If his eyes could get blacker, they most certainly would.
"I knew it," he whispers before bending his tall frame down to attack you in a sloppy, ravishing kiss. Anton is pushing you against the tree the very same time his tongue forces itself into your mouth. It is invasive, and rough and he clearly gets off on meshing your tongues together because he's grinding his hard length against your thigh.
"Fuck, I'm gonna fuck you now," He exclaims, the loudest you've ever heard him as he trues to catch his voice. "You want me to fuck you. You want me to fuck you so bad, yeah?"
You're equal parts not present because of the brash turn of events. While your mind races for solutions as to how the fuck you got here, you're immediately brought back by a harsh, stinging slap.
Pain blossoms on the side of your cheek as your hands fly to cradle it.
"Answer me." He says calmly, as if his giant hand hadn't been used to cause actual harm across your face. Despite the tears instincively welling in your eyes from the impact, you don't find yourself put off. In fact, you don't find yourself pulling away from Anton at all.
"I want you to fuck me, Anton," you say carefully, never taking your eyes off him. Big doe eyes stare up at Anton until his resolves melt in a puddle, "I need your cock inside of me-"
"Fuck- oh God," he's whimpering before crowidng you against the tree. He's lifting your leg to hook onto his hips as sloppily draws his cock out of his sweats. The surprise you felt at yourself for being so willing, bled into shock as you stared down at Anton's hand stroking his cock. More specifically, the sheer size of it.
"You expect that to fit inside me?" You ask, only causing his cock to twitch in his hand. Anton brings another hand up to your neck, effectively pinning you against the tree as he says, "There's no getting out of this now," before he's forcing the swollen head of his cock into your weeping hole.
"Anton!- fuck!" His hips are already relentless as he fights to push himself all the way in with horny, shallow thrusts.
"All of it," he whimpers through clenched teeth, "I know you can take all of it, you fucking slut," his words have you moaning into the quiet air as a wave of wetness soaks his cock, effectively allowing him to slide all the way in. Anton is in complete shock as he watches his dick disappear inside of you. His ears perk at the pretty noises leaving your open mouth with every rough, thrust. He's rutting against you, his pelvis brushing over your clit and letting you see absolute stars.
"Mine," he whispers, "You're mine, aren't you?"
Completey aware that Anton could and would hurt you again if you refused to answer him, you pried your lips open, letting your affirmations wash over him like holy water. "Yours- fuck- ah! I'm yours, Ant-"
"Oh-fuck," he doesn't know if it's the sound of the nickname leaving your lips so naturally or the way you're clenching around him that has Anton spilling inside of you. Full. Your pussy is completely and utterly full of a steady stream of cum, that seems unending. The sensation allows you to slip into your own orgasm, made strikingly more powerful from your earlier denial and current satisfaction. You see stars and Anton only sees you, his beautiful girl that he got to please under a willow tree.
"F-Fuck," you exhale, still recovering from visious aftershocks.
"We didn't use a condom," his voice is back to being light, and airy fairy.
"Sorry?" You say.
"We didn't use a condom."
You look down at yourself at the cum seeping down your throat. Anton is still inside you, seemingly not wanting to move away even an inch. "Oh," you say, "Yeah."
"Does this mean you'll get pregnant?" The Innocence in his voice cannot mask the Pandora's box threatening under the surface. He's looking down at you with Bambi eyes. Eyes that shift and shape.
What have you done?
He doesn't love you and you're s lut for him
You'd rather I be a slut for you
Fuck-
He cannot help it, he slaps himself like an idiot in that moment
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wishesunderthestars · 7 months
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Eunoia // Ch. 26
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eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness
Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader
Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness isn’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?
Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut
Word Count: 12.1k+
Warnings: past abuse, past sexual abuse, cursing, past violence,
Masterlist
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It was the second time Taehyung was in Jungkook’s atelier—only recently had Jungkook started thinking of it like that, before it was the atelier—but he was looking around him like it was a fairytale and everything was made of magic. Jungkook guessed he must have looked a little like that as well the first time you had shown him the room and told him it was his to do as he pleased. Athens and the Parthenon stretching on the wall never failed to inspire wonder and a deep respect in him, regardless of how long it had been since the first time he walked inside.
Everything else in the room was quite different from that first day. The once pristine and unused room was now splattered in paint. It was everywhere, on the floor and the cabinets and on the many newspapers that he used to cover everything. The first time he had stained the floor with paint, he had gone to you with teary eyes, lowered ears, and a hundred apologies on the tip of his tongue. You had simply laughed and told him that the room was his and he could paint the whole floor if he wanted to. The only thing you asked of him was to be careful of the wall painting. Jungkook would have never touched it in the first place.
Finished canvases were leaning against the cabinets and the walls. Most of them were of places Jungkook found beautiful, the Eiffel Tower, the Parthenon, a neighborhood in Amsterdam he had seen in one of your photos. There were also a few paintings of the pack, you and Seokjin cooking in the kitchen, Yoongi playing the piano, Namjoon and Hoseok under the large tree in the garden, Taehyung with Alice at the lake, and Jimin smiling so wide his eyes turned into crescent moons.
Jungkook longed for Jimin with an insatiable hunger. Now that he had gotten a taste of him once and Jimin told him he wanted it, now that there was no guilt and anguish, he couldn’t get enough of him. He wanted to always be touching him, holding him, and scenting him. His scent was like an aphrodisiac to him and he was addicted.
However, when Taehyung had shyly asked about his atelier, he was compelled to show it to him. It wasn’t often that Taehyung asked for anything and although he hadn’t specifically asked to see the room, Jungkook knew he would like it. Taehyung’s smile was also addicting and rare like a precious gem. So, he had left Jimin with Seokjin to cook in the kitchen and had taken Taehyung’s hand and climbed down the stairs. His hand was soft and he could still feel its ghost on his palm.
He was right, Taehyung’s smile was worth it. It was a tiny one, a small curve of his lips, but it was stunning.
His tiger ears twitched when his eyes landed on the painting of him. He approached slowly, taking it in. A hand reached out but he drew it back before it could touch the canvas.
In the painting, Alice was grinning brightly at Taehyung, one of her rainbow butterfly hair-clips clipped on his dark hair. But what Jungkook loved the most about it was Taehyung’s smile. For the first time, with Alice, Taehyung looked genuinely happy. The painting didn’t do the moment justice, he hadn’t managed to capture the tiger hybrid perfectly. He had taken a picture of the two of them and used it as reference but it was difficult, almost impossible, to immortalize Taehyung’s beauty in that moment.
“Do you like it?” Jungkook asked gently.
Taehyung startled as if the painting had enchanted him and Jungkook’s voice broke the spell. He hugged himself with one hand, almost like he wanted to stop himself from touching the painting. “It’s… beautiful.”
“It was a beautiful moment,” Jungkook agreed. “Alice is incredible, right?”
Taehyung nodded slowly. “I… have it. The butterfly. She doesn’t want back… it.”
They both looked at the painting. Jungkook wasn’t sure if they were seeing the same thing but maybe they were.
“Do you want to paint again?” he asked, breaking the silence. He took down the half-finished canvas of a beach from the easel and replaced it with a blank canvas.
Taehyung didn’t hesitate to agree this time. They picked up different brushes, chose a few tubes of oil paint and set themselves to work. Jungkook showed him how to paint a sunset—he had perfected the skill through a lot of observation and many YouTube videos. Taehyung seemed to have fun blending the colors and drawing the shapes of semi-transparent clouds.
They stayed in the atelier for a few hours until they were called for dinner by Hoseok, whose heart-shaped smile at seeing them together in their paint-splattered clothes rivaled the beauty of the sunset. After the meal, Jungkook asked if Taehyung would like to take the painting of him and Alice to his room. They hung it on the wall with Yoongi’s help and went back to the garden together.
♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩
You were filming at Monmouth Manufacturing for the day. They were the last couple of scenes you would be filming there for Season 1. Hopefully—and most probably—, you would see it again next year, or the year after that, filming for Season 2. First, you would have to finish Crooked Kingdom and then towards the end of the year, maybe you could work on the Raven Cycle. Your schedule was already crazy and you were troubled about what that meant for the next year.
A headache was brewing behind your temples and you were trying very hard to ignore it. You had been at the studios since 6 o’clock in the morning and you were going crazy. It would be one of those 15-16 hour days. You could see it coming. The executive producer of Paper Hearts had called to tell you that you were desperately needed for a board meeting for the next season. They had changed the time of the meeting to later in the afternoon to fit your schedule, which proved that it was important. You dreaded the drive to the other side of Los Angeles and what was sure to be a very long discussion.
During your lunch break, you texted Namjoon that you would be late again. He didn’t say anything but you knew he was disappointed. He had to be. You had barely spent any time with them in the past few days. There were also matters you still had to discuss. You hadn’t told the other hybrids about the thing between the three of you and they deserved to know. Your headache got worse just thinking about it.
You flipped through the script during a small break, sipping on your third cup of coffee of the day. It was making you jittery but the other option was falling asleep in your chair.
“Okay, I think we are good to move on to the next scene,” you told Will. “And then we’re done for the day.”
“Should I get someone to call the actors?”
“Yeah, see if they are done with makeup and send them in.” You rolled your neck and let out a heavy sigh. “All things considered it’s going pretty well.”
Will chuckled as he motioned for someone from the staff to come closer. “For someone who’s been here since six, you’re doing remarkably well.”
You waited for him to send the man to fetch the actors before speaking again. “We’ll see about that when we’re done with this scene. If I’m on my feet and awake by then, I deserve an award.”
Will shrugged, leaning back on his chair. “I’ve seen you do worse. Do you remember when we were filming ‘The Grand Masquerade’ in Prague? You were running on three hours of sleep a night for a week. I thought you would fall asleep during filming and wouldn’t wake up for a couple of days.”
“I was younger then,” you shrugged it off. You eyed the script again, focusing on your notes. “ I don’t have the same energy.”
“It was three years ago.”
“Three years can be a long time.”
You could understand that better than anyone, considering that this year sometimes seemed like a decade to you. In a year, your whole life had changed. You were different, everything was different from last year. Three years could be a very long time, indeed. But also the blink of an eye.
One of the actors arrived and you both greeted him. Soon, he was swept away by the movement director.
“I think you need another break,” Will declared in all of his dramatic glory.
You tapped your long nails on your plastic cup, the action was strangely soothing. “I think I need another coffee.”
“You certainly need a break,” Will insisted. “And you certainly don’t need another coffee.”
He had noticed your restlessness, then. “We just came back from a break. And there is no time for another one. After we are done here, promotions for Six of Crows begin then there is the premiere and the tour and they are getting everything ready to begin filming for Season 6 of Paper Hearts. And Crooked Kingdom is next year and I am very behind on that.”
Will’s face did that thing he did whenever he was done with you, his features slacking like he was bored and a little irritated. “You can’t be behind on something that hasn’t even started yet. Be serious.”
“I am. Deadly.”
Will rolled his eyes. “Break. You need a break.”
The rest of the actors arrived then and the subject was dropped in favor of going over the details of the scene with them. They took their places and filming began. There was a place where the scene kept being snagged and you had to go over it four times to get it right and five more to perfect it.
By the end, you were running like you were being hunted to find John and drive to the company building. The meeting as you had expected was long and tiring. At least, it was a productive one. You discussed the script, the new additions, and the schedule. You shared a few worries and disagreements you had and you mostly managed to find the middle ground. Another meeting would be held in a week before filming would officially start in a few weeks.
It was past eleven when you opened the door of the Castle. No one was in the living room, which was to be expected.
“I’m back!” you shouted, even though no one would hear you if they were in the garden. The night was warm and your skin felt stifling. Sweat dotted your forehead and the change of temperature, when you walked inside the air-conditioned Castle, sent a shock through your system. Your legs had turned to stones and you struggled to take off your shoes.
All you wanted was to fall asleep. You opened the balcony door and shouted again that you were back and that you would be in your room. You closed it before you could hear any replies.
In your room, you had to force yourself to change into your pajamas instead of falling face-first onto your bed in your dirty clothes. You didn’t have the energy to take a shower like you usually did at the end of the day. Your appetite had also disappeared. You hadn’t eaten dinner but you weren’t hungry. You were taking off your makeup in the bathroom when there was a knock on your door.
For a moment, you debated not answering but you dismissed the thought instantly.
“Come in,” you called. “I’m in the bathroom.”
You heard the door open and close again. You dragged the cotton pad roughly across your face, you didn’t have the patience to be gentle and it left your skin red. Some days it was just too sensitive.
“Are you alright?” The care in Seokjin’s voice tugged at the tight knot in your chest, loosened it. You glanced at the door but he wasn’t there.
Most of the makeup was gone from your face and you looked like a mess. You threw the cotton pads in the bin and washed your face quickly to get rid of the mascara under your eyes and any stubborn residues of makeup.
Seokjin was standing by your vanity, waiting for you. It wasn’t often that he came to your room. You weren’t used to seeing him there but it felt right.
“For someone who has been running around for more than sixteen hours, I am peachy,” you tried to joke but the delivery was lacking. It was confirmed by Seokjin’s frown.
“That’s too much, even for you. That isn’t healthy.”
“It is what it is,” you said, trying not to sound defensive. “It isn’t something I haven’t done before. And tomorrow’s schedule is easier so it’s alright.”
That didn’t seem to do anything to ease his mind. “Because you did it before, it doesn’t mean you should keep doing that.”
You rubbed your temples, your headache was getting worse. “There are things that need to get done. I can’t just stop because I’m tired. I get calls all day and my inbox is full of emails I haven’t answered yet. I have a million things on my plate, I can’t ignore them.”
“I know,” Seokjin said, his tone softer. He came closer to you and took your hand in his. The touch was grounding. You hadn’t realized you were spiraling until your feet were planted on the earth again. “We know how important your work is and how much effort you have put in to be where we are. It’s admirable and it’s incredible that you’ve managed to do all this. But your health is important too. You can’t keep running with an empty tank. You need to rest too.”
You heaved a sigh and let your head fall forward to rest on his chest. Your nose wasn’t as sensitive as a hybrid’s but breathing in the familiar sweetness calmed you. He hugged you and drew you closer to him, his hand kneading the tense muscles of your shoulders and the back of your neck.
“We missed you,” he said almost in a whisper.
“You always miss me.”
Seokjin stayed quiet but you both knew. They always missed you because you were always gone.
“You should eat something before you fall asleep. Yoongi and I made gnocchi with prosciutto and parmesan and garlic bread with mozzarella. I can bring it here but I think it would be best if you ate in the kitchen. Everyone wants to see you but they don’t want to bother you.”
The simple act of going to the kitchen sounded like climbing a mountain. Your bed looked too attractive, only a meter away and very very soft. Your eyelids were heavy with the need to sleep and yet…
“I’ll come to the kitchen,” you said. Having woken up at five, you hadn’t seen anyone before leaving. The thought of not seeing them at all today left a sour taste in your mouth. “But can we stay here? For a bit?”
Seokjin placed a tender kiss on the crown of your head. “Of course. For as long as you want.”
You lost track of time in his arms but no more than five minutes must have passed by the time you pulled back with a heavy heart. A temporary balm had been applied to the ailments of the day. You could hold yourself up for a few more minutes to eat a little, you had been doing it all day.
Your legs were as heavy as concrete walking to the kitchen. You had to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, otherwise, you might just collapse. There was noise coming from the kitchen but your tired mind couldn’t register what they were saying.
You were surprised to see that everyone was there waiting for you, even Taehyung. Yoongi placed the plates in front of your seat and Jimin added the cutlery. Everyone else was sitting around the table in their usual stools.
Their greetings were quieter than usual and you guessed that they were conscious of how tired you were. You gave them the warmest smile you could master and patted Hoseok’s hair as you passed by to take your seat. The aroma of the food made your stomach growl, you hadn’t realized how hungry you had been before. Your appetite was back. Everything looked incredible as always and you couldn’t wait to dig in.
“Are you all just going to look at me while I eat?” you asked, picking up your fork.
The hybrids looked sheepish at your question.
“We just wanted to see you,” Jungkook said. “You left too early in the morning.”
You had to compose yourself to pierce a couple of gnocchi with your fork and not sigh out loud. Yoongi’s eyes were heavy on you, they were the ones you could detect with the most ease. You were the most aware of him.
“I had too much to do today. They have been bugging me from the studios for days. If I didn’t start early, I would have never finished. And I prefer an early morning to a late night. I tend to work better in the morning.”
You forced the fork to your mouth. You were ravenous but the conversation stalled your appetite.
“I would think that this was considered a late night,” Namjoon pointed out.
The taste, as expected, was heavenly. The creaminess of the parmesan sauce was tied perfectly with the savory crispy prosciutto. In your condition, you felt like it was wasted on you. As hungry as you were, you just wanted to put your fork down and go to sleep. But you couldn’t do that. You were better than that, you could eat something and then you could go to sleep. You could do that, you had done this before. Hadn’t you?
“This isn’t a late night,” you said after you swallowed the delicious bite. You had to eat another one. And another one. “Late nights can be anything from three a.m. to the next morning. This doesn’t happen often but I really had too many things to do. This is just for a few weeks because we’re moving very fast with the Raven Boys and filming for Season 6 of Paper Hearts will start soon. There are a lot of meetings and things they need my opinion on, it will actually be better once filming starts. They don’t need me as much then.”
You pushed the gnocchi around and you could tell they didn’t believe you without looking at them. It was true that your workload was heavier these days but you couldn’t exactly guarantee that it would get better soon. Filming for the Raven Cycle had been going exceptionally well and it was moving faster than you had originally planned. It would be wrapping up by the end of September or by early October at the latest. Wrapping up was a lot of work, the beginning and the end were the busiest parts.
The rest of autumn was going to be very difficult too. There was the premier as well, which added to your workload greatly. It would take up all of November and the work for it would start from October. Maybe December would be calmer. Maybe.
You ate the rest of your meal in relative silence. They didn’t talk more about you leaving early and coming back late although you knew they wanted to. Their voices were quiet as they talked about anything from witches in cartoons to color theory. You let their words play in the background like the sound from a TV as you tried to eat as much as you could.
The result was a half-finished plate of gnocchi and one less garlic bread with mozzarella. Your eyes were closing involuntarily by then, staying closed for longer periods each time. If you didn’t go to sleep now, you would fall face-first into the gnocchi.
You slid off your seat and balanced yourself on numb legs. “Thank you for this, it was delicious. But I really need to go to sleep now.”
“It’s okay,” Seokjin said, glancing at half of the food still on the plate. “You should rest.”
“At what time do you start work tomorrow?” Yoongi asked. He had been silent during your dinner and his voice rang louder than the rest to your ears.
It must have taken a few seconds to navigate the fog in your mind before you could answer. “Filming starts around nine, so I should be there by eight. Half past eight at most.”
“That’s still too early,” Hoseok said, frowning.
You waved their worries off. They had better things to worry about than the job you had been doing for half of your life. “It isn’t too early. I can sleep for a decent number of hours before I have to get ready. It’s alright, really. Goodnight, everyone. Sweet dreams.”
With effort, you dragged your body to your bedroom. You didn’t bother turning on the lights and stumbled to your bed guided only by the moonlight. There wasn’t a point in closing the blinds when you would wake up around the time the sun was rising. The light of your phone was too bright in the darkness and it made your eyes sting as you set an alarm.
A few messages caught your attention but a knock stopped you before you could open them.
“Come in,” you called, setting your phone aside. The door opened and the light from the hallway slipped in, outlining the silhouettes of the two hybrids. “Is everything okay?”
They both nodded and Jimin took a few steps into the room. “Can we sleep here tonight?”
“Both of you?” you asked, half-suppressing a yawn. Unlike Jimin, Jungkook hadn’t slept in your room before and the only time you had shared a bed was in Virginia.
Jungkook’s bunny ears drooped. “I can go, I don’t mind. I just missed you.”
“Sorry, that isn’t how I meant it.” Your surroundings were a bit blurry, the minutes stretched but were also impossibly short. It felt a little like life was a dream when you were tired like this. “Come in, both of you. And close the door behind you. It is blinding me a bit.”
They hurried inside and did as you told them. You couldn’t see them well as they moved through the darkness. They surrounded you, lying on different sides. Jimin didn’t hesitate to draw closer, throwing an arm over your stomach. Jungkook was a little stiffer on your left like he didn’t know how to situate himself. You found his hand, intertwining your fingers, and a quiet sigh escaped his lips.
It felt right, lying between them. Like that was how it was meant to be. But maybe that was the exhaustion talking, the dream realm slipping into the waking world.
“I missed you too,” you whispered. “Now sleep. I have an alarm set for the morning.”
♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩
Summer bled seamlessly into autumn. The change wasn’t apparent in the Castle, autumn had only arrived in name. The heat was still there and would remain for some time. During the days, it still made sweat drip down your temples the few times you filmed outside the studios but the nights were comfortable and moon-bright.
You had a couple of hours free between takes and nothing to do so you got into your car (John had taken the day off to spend some time with Alice) and started the engine. “Nothing to do” was a relative term of course. There were many things you could be doing, countless extra little tasks that crowded your thoughts, but you disregarded all of them. You had been spending whole days away from home and you were beginning to feel guilty about it.
On your way back, you stopped by your favorite homemade gelato shop. In San Diego, you had gone for gelato the first day and the hybrids had loved it. You had made it a habit to get gelato at the beginning of each day during ComicCon, it was your little ritual. You had ordered gelato a couple of times to the Castle as well but with eight people, it didn’t last more than a day.
There were dozens of flavors behind the display case, all of them looking delectable. You got a wide variety, remembering the flavors they liked the most. You picked hazelnut, tiramisu, chocolate chip cookie, almond, caramel, coconut, cream and sour cherry, nutella, and vanilla and asked for 1 kilo of each to be delivered to your house. It was too hot and your house was too far to transport them in your car.
You didn’t have to wait more than a few minutes outside the gate before the delivery boy arrived. You got the bags full of gelato containers from him and sent him off with a hefty tip. The Castle was a long way from the heart of the city and anyone willing to make deliveries there deserved a nice tip.
Unlocking and opening the door was a struggle but you managed. You shouted you were back and fast-walked down the stairs, the plastic bags digging into your hands. On the second level, you were faced with Jungkook, who was also climbing the stairs to reach you. He looked as if he was ready to attack you with a hug before noticing the bags.
“A little help?” you asked, raising the bags a little higher. Your arms protested loudly.
Jungkook quickly took most of the bags from you and if you hadn’t been the one carrying them before, you would have believed they were light as a feather with the way he was holding them. “What are all these?” he asked, peeking into the bags. His eyes sparkled and his smile widened in realization when he spotted the containers. “Is that–?”
“Gelato,” you said, a little proud of yourself for thinking of making the stop on your way back.
Jungkook’s steps turned into little hops. “You are the best! How much did you get? Are these all different flavors?”
“You will see…”
Jungkook made a sound close to a petulant whine. “Come on,” he said, dragging the vowels. “What are they? Did you get hazelnut?”
“We’re almost there. You’ll see in a minute.” The garden was coming into view as you climbed down to the last level but Jungkook still turned back to pout at you. “Dramatic bunny,” you muttered lowly but not low enough for his enhanced hearing not to pick it up. You didn’t mind, his giggles were cute.
At the bottom of the stairs, Namjoon and Seokjin were waiting for you.
Seokjin squeezed your wrist in greeting before saying, “He is a very dramatic bunny.”
“Hey! You should be on my side!”
Seokjin raised his eyebrows. “And why is that?” And that set off a round of bickering as they walked to the table to set down the bags.
Despite your protests, Namjoon took the last bags from you. “You should accept a little help from time to time,” he said firmly. You knew that he meant it for more than this. You decided to ignore it for now, you would overthink this later.
“Everyone, gather around! I brought gelato!” you called.
In a few minutes, everyone was gathered around the table. Hoseok, upon seeing the many containers of gelato, had done a happy dance, kissed your cheek and ran upstairs with Seokjin to get bowls and spoons. Jimin had wrapped himself around your back and was licking his lips, which was highly distracting. You shouldn’t be thinking about this.
Taehyung was the quietest one, as he usually was. He was sitting next to Yoongi, looking at all the containers with parted lips.
“I got gelato for us,” you told him. “It is really good. I got a lot of flavors so you can try as many as you want.”
“Gelato,” Taehyung repeated softly, gazing at the containers spread over the table.
Hoseok and Seokjin arrived with eight bowls, too many spoons and three ice cream scoops—you didn’t even know you had that many—and set them down around the table. You busied yourself with opening all the containers. You already knew which flavors you wanted so you grabbed one of the scoops and served yourself three scoops of ice cream.
Jimin had hooked his chin over your shoulder and wasn’t making any move to serve himself. That was up to you then.
“Which flavor do you want?” you asked him, dipping the scoop into the cup of water.
He rubbed his cheek against your shoulder lazily. “Hmmm, I think I want to try a few before I decide.”
You decided to indulge him, you liked it when he got playful and joked with you. You preferred when he was confident and asked for what he wanted. It was beautiful to witness how much he had changed through the months. You dipped a spoon into the flavors in your bowl first and brought them to his mouth. He savored each spoonful, humming and licking his full lips. He was so close to you, if you turned completely your noses would touch. How did you always end up in these situations lately?
“I want that too,” Jungkook said, pouting and pointing at your spoon. He was sitting at the bench and he had his own bowl in front of him, filled with four scoops of gelato.
“You want almond?” you asked.
“No, I want to be fed too.”
“You really are a baby,” Seokjin said. “Is that what’s going to be happening now? Whatever one has the other wants too?”
Jungkook looked away, taking his spoon again disappointed. “No, it just looked nice. It felt nice to be cared for when we were at the lake. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I just wanted to ask.”
At the lake, you had been feeding them strawberries dipped in chocolate and your mind had run too wild. You should stop thinking about that. “I want to, you are just a little far. I can’t really reach.”
Jimin was about to say something, probably offer a solution but before he could, Seokjin had picked up Jungkook and plopped him down in his lap.
“Here, I will feed you, you big baby. Is this alright?” he asked, ever caring.
Jungkook squirmed a little but seemed pleased, a light flush settling on his cheeks. “Yes, of course.” He was as tall as Seokjin but in his lap, he looked much smaller. He opened his mouth obediently when Seokjin brought the spoon to his lips.
Your eyes strayed to Taehyung, you were hyper-aware of him whenever you were in the same place. His eyes had that look that you couldn’t understand, it was there every time you interacted with the other hybrids lately. They were telling you that he was opening up more these days but to you, he remained a mystery.
In the end, Jimin ate most of your gelato and you scooped some chocolate chip cookie into your bowl because you knew how much he liked it. Hoseok and Namjoon closed the containers and carried them upstairs, they returned and went to sit by the pool. Yoongi finished quickly and lied down under the shade of the tree closest to them. Jungkook grew sleepy and turned to the side, laying his head on Seokjin’s shoulder. Jimin joined them, hugging Jungkook from the side.
Taehyung stayed at the bench like he wasn’t sure where he should go, his empty bowl in front of him.
“Did you like it?” you asked, gesturing to his bowl. Another reminder of your shortcomings, you didn’t even know how much he had progressed in English.
“Yes, thank you,” he replied. The low timbre of his voice surprised you each time. You heard it so rarely that you didn’t get the chance to get used to it.
You should make an effort to talk to him, avoiding him would only make matters worse. But you couldn’t find anything to say. What exactly could you say to him, who had lived most of his life like a caged animal, who you had bought at an illegal auction?
Suddenly, you had the equivalent of a light bulb lighting up next to your head in a cartoon.
“Hobi told me you liked the painting of the pomegranate in the gallery,” you said then realized that pomegranate was probably a word he couldn’t understand and proceeded to explain the painting. “It has glass around it and a hand is holding it. Am I making sense?”
Seokjin looked at you amused but Taehyung nodded in understanding. “It is beautiful.”
“Right, it is,” you agreed. “The artist, the one who made it, is holding an exhibition in LA. We could go if you would like.”
You had bought the painting from her long before her fame had grown and spread. There was a magic to the way Eliana Velasco painted, everything came alive under her brush strokes. The painting of the pomegranate had enchanted you and given your history, you had to have it.
“Go?” he repeated, clearly confused.
“Yeah, to a place that has many of her paintings. You can see them there. Would you like that?” Talking to him, you were more nervous than at any of the award shows you had attended the past few years, more nervous than during any contract negotiations.
Taehyung’s eyes widened a fraction before he nodded. “Can I… see them?”
“Of course,” you said.
Jungkook stirred against Seokjin’s shoulder. “Are we going to an exhibition?”
“If you want to.”
“Are you going to be there too?” he asked and that was harder to answer. Your schedule was the busiest it had been in months and you were drowning in deadlines and responsibilities. You were saved from answering him by a notification on your phone. The numbers displaying the time showed that you were late to leave. You pocketed your phone and with quick goodbyes, you disappeared.
 You were so stupid. You had offered to take Taehyung to an exhibition when work was wrapped around you like a noose. But you had panicked. Eliana had sent you an invitation for the opening night, promising there would be French champagne and hors d’ oeuvres. You had attended plenty of her exhibitions and had many conversations about art and life and their inter-connected philosophy while drinking champagne or wine and staring at paintings.
Although Taehyung’s situation was solved and Amelia had let you know some time ago that legally you were safe, going to the opening night didn’t sound like a good idea. There would be many journalists there who would love to write a piece about you and your sudden decision to adopt so many hybrids. They could go without you another day, that wouldn’t be too bad. Taehyung looked so hopeful and now that you had said it, you couldn’t take it back. You could text Eliana and ask her if she could meet you there one day so you could introduce her to them.
You should try and get some time off.
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It was like a curse, to not be able to sleep in the very few hours you could afford to. Your bed was empty and cold and you couldn’t get comfortable regardless of how much you twisted and turned. Your limbs were too long and awkward and nothing felt right. All the wild thoughts you couldn’t be bothered with during the day showed up one after the other to be examined from every angle and set aside to pick up the next one. It was a losing battle and yet you insisted on fighting it every time before giving in, getting up and popping a pill into your mouth.
You returned the bottle to the cabinet and closed it. After Seoul, for some time it had returned to your bedside table but after a couple of weeks had passed it felt like you were admitting defeat by keeping it there. The image in the mirror was a far cry from the celebrity you were supposed to be. The darkness under your eyes formed bruises, getting worse by the day. Your skin had grown pale and your hair was a mess, you hadn’t had enough strength to braid it before attempting to fall asleep.
You considered going back to bed but the pills could take up to an hour to work when your insomnia reached its peak and you were craving a snack. Something small and sweet sounded nice.
Once again, you had returned late and eaten dinner alone. Your appetite was lacking although the food was delicious. Sometimes, it got like that when you were too tired. You had promised yourself to limit early mornings and late nights but that had changed when you had texted Eliana about the exhibition. She had offered to accompany you to the exhibition on one of the days it was closed to the public and you were more than thankful to her but that also meant that you would have to take half the day off.
The TV was on in the living room, subtitles displayed at the bottom of the screen with no sound. Namjoon was sitting on the couch, arms crossed and watching with distracted eyes. Everyone else had departed to their rooms for the night. His ears twitched as you took a few more steps and he turned to look at you.
You waved your hand, trying to offer him a smile. “Hey.”
He sat up straighter. “Hi. Why are you still awake? Do you need something?”
“Just some water. Maybe a snack.”
“You were really tired when you went to bed. Did you not fall asleep?” he asked, frowning.
You shrugged. “I couldn’t. It’s one of those nights. If I eat something, maybe I will fall asleep easier. A full stomach and all that.” You didn’t mention the pill, it was awkward to do that. “Don’t let me disturb you. I’ll just grab something and go back to bed.”
Namjoon got up and in a few strides, he was standing in front of you. He caressed your cheek, searching for something in your eyes. You weren’t sure what he could see there. “I’ll join you. Let’s sit together for a bit. I haven’t seen you properly in a few days.”
“But you must have stayed back to watch that,” you said. A documentary was playing on the TV, something about Egyptian history.
“It doesn’t matter. I would rather spend my time with you. Unless you don’t want to, then I’ll go back to the couch and be very quiet.”
You slid your hand in his, the touch grounding you in a night that felt both like you were wide awake and caught in a blurry dream. “I would like some company. I’ve missed you too. I’m–”
“Don’t say you’re sorry. There is no need for that.”
He leaned down, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. His lips lingered for a few moments, warmth spreading inside you. You raised your head and captured his lips in a kiss. The worst part was that you couldn’t remember how long it had been since you had last shared a kiss. His lips were velvet as you remembered them. This was home. Running back and forth, you had forgotten what it felt like.
You pulled back and grabbed his hand. “Let’s go.”
In the kitchen, Namjoon stood next to you as you rummaged through the cupboards for something that looked appetizing to you. The cupboards were full and yet nothing was calling to you until Namjoon remembered that Seokjin had made ice cream sandwiches with the gelato you had bought and various kinds of cookies. That sounded like heaven so you opened the freezer and chose two of them.
You leaned against the counter, shoulder to shoulder with Namjoon, while you devoured them. Gelato might not have been the best idea to put you to sleep but they tasted heavenly. The pill would start working sooner or later.
“Is it worse today?” he asked. He didn’t elaborate further, he didn’t have to.
The ice cream sandwiches were gone and you were left holding the plate. You licked your fingers and placed it in the sink. “I have a lot of things on my mind. I should be too tired to think but apparently, I’m never too tired for that.”
“Anything in particular?”
“Everything, more or less.” You turned to the side, facing him. “There’s too much to think about and not enough time. Never enough time,” you muttered the last sentence to yourself. If you had all the time in the world it would still not be enough, you would find a way to fill it. “I’ve been putting everything off. Everything I don’t want to deal with or I don’t know how to deal with. And the longer I put it off, the worse it gets.”
He was quiet for a few seconds, taking in what you said and pondering how to reply. It was beautiful, how his mind worked and how attentive he was. “If there is any way we can help you, anything I–we can do, we will. Whatever you want to do, we will support you. Sometimes, in our head, we can make things look bigger, more scary than they are. Do you want to talk about them? Maybe if you talk about what you have to do or what you’re worried about, it will be easier to work out the best way to approach them.”
That was something your therapist used to tell you, that while things festered in your head, they would only get more tangled and more daunting. She had suggested writing them down or talking to her about them. She was right, you knew she was right and that it helped and yet you hadn’t stopped to do that.
You took a deep breath, debating if it would be better to find a notebook and figure out your mess on paper instead of dragging Namjoon into it. But there was a part of you that itched to confide in him and give in to the way you felt safe when you were together. 
“I don’t even know where to start,” you confessed.
You started slowly, with your usual worries about Taehyung, how he was adjusting and how little time you were spending with him and if that was for the best. It was the same old spiralling, you had poked and prodded at it so many times and Namjoon must have been bored of listening to the same rehashed concerns, yet he didn’t interrupt you. You unravelled steadily, once you started speaking, you couldn’t stop. There was the filming for the Raven Cycle, the final touches of Six of Crows, the premiere and the weeks of promotions and the anticipation for the reviews of the critics and the audiences. The book you hadn’t finished and the deadline you couldn’t meet.
You rubbed your hands over your face. It had been so long since most of those problems had surfaced and you were ashamed that you hadn’t faced them yet. “And we haven’t told anyone about us. We said we would and I know you’re waiting for me but I’m never here. And I don’t know how.”
Namjoon caught your hand and brought it to his lips. Lowering it, his thumb rubbed soothing circles on your skin. “It doesn’t have to be complicated. They will understand and they will be happy for us. You shouldn’t let this keep you awake, everything will be alright. They are our pack, this won’t change anything.”
“But…” The anxiety that persisted. “Yoongi. What if his reaction is… bad. You know what he said.”
“That was before.” He sounded sure but there was a tightness at his jaw. “It is different now. He is different, you can see it. He is softer around the edges, he even helps Jin in the kitchen. He’s settling in.”
 “Because he doesn’t know,” you said. “You remember what he said, right? That night? That I adopted you so I could take my pick and now there is Jin and it’s just too much like that, can’t you see it?”
“It’s nothing like that. We both–” Namjoon stiffened, his gaze locking somewhere towards the entrance. “Yoongi?”
Your heart rate sped up, a knot forming in your chest. Yoongi walked in, his socked feet not making a sound. How much had he heard? The last minutes of the conversation replayed in your mind in a panicked mess. What had you said? How long had he been there, listening to you, before Namjoon noticed him? What conclusions would he reach?
Instinctively, you tried to get away from Namjoon but his hold on your hand kept you there.
The panther’s face didn’t give anything away. You couldn’t read him regardless of how much you studied him. You didn’t know his tells, if he had any. His expression was a carefully curated mask of apathy and you couldn’t see past it. Or you didn’t dare to try. Maybe you were too afraid of what you would find.
“How did you know it was me?” he asked, voice missing some of its smoothness.
Namjoon held your hand tighter. “You are the only one who can sneak up on me.”
You swallowed down your anxiety and tried to think of him the way he was the past few months, when he helped you with rearranging your office, him playing the piano in the afternoons, your walk at the lake, the vague memory of him helping you up to your room when you were drunk in Virginia. But they were all pushed back by the memory of his snarl and his sharp teeth that night.
“How much did you hear?” you asked, forcing your voice to be steady. He was going to learn of it at some point and as scared as you were, you had to face this.
“Enough.” His tail curled behind him and stilled. “You are afraid of my reaction to something. Is that it?”
Your eyes locked with Namjoon’s and he nodded. This time you weren’t going to run. This time would be different. “Yes, there is something we wanted to tell you. Something we wanted to tell everyone. I didn’t know how to tell you, that’s all.”
“You can tell me now,” he said and it sounded almost like a dare. You weren’t sure if you were walking into a trap.
Namjoon spoke up before you could. “You remember that the two of us are… We are together, as humans would say, romantically.” Yoongi nodded. You couldn’t imagine how he could forget. “That extends to Jin now. We love him and he loves us.” It was almost like he was challenging him to say anything but Yoongi was quiet.
“We didn’t know how to tell everyone. And you…” You didn’t know how to finish.
He scoffed. “I was an asshole.” One side of his lips was twisted up but something about it hurt. “You didn’t want to tell me because I was an asshole when I found out about you two. Worse than an asshole.” He dropped his gaze to the floor, his shoulders were slumped as if in defeat. For a moment, you wished to reassure him but what he was saying was the truth. “I understand. I’m not– I’m happy for you. And I’m sorry.”
He turned to leave but, through your confusion, you knew you didn’t want him to go.
“Wait,” you called. He stopped but didn’t turn around. “Let’s talk. We need to talk.”
Yoongi looked at you over his shoulder. This time, you studied him without your heavy-duty lenses, without the fear of discovery. Like the expression of an actor, you picked apart the tiniest details to paint a picture. When your own barriers were gone, it was easier to see.
“What is there to talk about?” he asked.
“A lot. Things we should have talked about sooner.” Communication was a golden rule in your handbook and you used to be good at it, you tried to be good at it. The misunderstanding trope was overused and useless when the issue could be resolved with a simple conversation.
It was about time you stopped walking on eggshells.
“We never truly talked about it,” you started. “And I didn’t really want to because things were going so well. They are going well. But you are my family now.” His lips parted, only slightly but you caught it. “I can’t know how all of you see it, if it’s the same for you, but that’s the way I feel. And I want to be honest with you. I still think about what you said in the garden and sometimes it affects me more than I would like. However, I would like to put it behind us but I want to know what you think.”
His eyes were sharp but you weren’t fooled this time. “Can we? Can we really put it behind us?”
 Namjoon was silent next to you, he was letting you handle it.
“I think we are already beginning to.” You took a deep breath in preparation. There was a question that could make or break this peace between you and you were both dreading and dying to ask. “Do you think that I’m taking advantage of them because I love them romantically?”
His eyes widened. “No,” he denied sharply. “No, of course I don’t.”
It was like a knot unravelling in your heart. Although there was a part of you that had known, the relief was still there. “Then we can move past it. We can try again. We are already trying again.”
“How?” Yoongi asked and he sounded smaller, much smaller than you were used to.
The pills were beginning to act, it was a light drowsiness at first. You had to do this quickly before you fell asleep and crumbled down on the floor.
“The same way we are doing now. By doing our best.”
“I am trying” His hands clenched into fists and loosened again. “I’m sorry. For everything.”
“You don’t need to be. Not anymore. As long as I know that we are fine.” Your eyes were growing heavier and the fog was slipping in. “I think we should go to bed now,” you said. It was getting more and more difficult to open your eyes.
You must have stumbled or something because you heard Yoongi ask, “Are you alright?” at the same time as Namjoon’s “Do you want help?”
You waved them both off. “I’m fine. It’s the pills.” It was easier to admit when you were almost asleep. One moment your feet were on the floor and the next you were up in the air. “Joon?”
“I’m taking you to your room. It’s time for sleep.” One of his arms was under your knees and the other was holding you close to his body.
“Namjoon, I can walk,” you protested weakly. Namjoon shushed you and you let it go. You were so incredibly sleepy and you were safe there. You relaxed in his arms and finally closed your eyes.
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Most of the flowers were drooping in the garden of the Castle. Namjoon and Jimin were attempting to keep them alive for as long as possible before fall swept them away. They cut off the dead leaves, watered the plants and applied the appropriate fertilisers. There were also varieties that lasted all year and the gardener had taught them how to take care of them too.
“These won’t last much longer,” Jimin said, running his fingers gently over the petals of a slowly wilting flower.
“They will bloom again in spring,” Namjoon reassured him. “Each season has its beauty and these belong to spring and summer. Autumn has its own colors too but they are different.”
Jimin pulled his hand back and grabbed the watering can. “I know, but I will miss them.”
Namjoon patted his head and Jimin preened under his touch, chasing his hand. He was too cute sometimes and Namjoon adored him. “It’s okay to miss it but you can also be happy about the new things that are coming. Miss Roberts said she will bring sunflowers and hydrangeas to plant next week, it will add some color. When something ends, something else begins.”
Jimin giggled, watering the flowers although they would be dead next week. “Nora has told you many times to call her by her name.”
Namjoon rubbed the back of his head. “I forgot. I’m trying.”
Yoongi came out of the house, a book in his hand. He had been visiting the library more lately. Namjoon had been wondering where he had been. The rest of the pack had holed up in the cinema room to watch a comedy and, like the two of them, Yoongi had opted out but they hadn’t seen him since.
“Yoongi!” Jimin called, waving with the hand that wasn’t holding the watering can. “Come here. Sit with us, we are almost done.”
Yoongi paused, glancing at the table and benches on the other side of the garden.
“Come on,” Namjoon called for him as well. That was enough to sway Yoongi’s decision, who made his way to them.
Jimin bounced up to him, grabbing his hand and dragging him to the flower bushes they were tending to. Yoongi grumbled about the rough treatment but Namjoon wasn’t fooled, the upturn of his lips was small but unmistakable.
Jimin explained to him what they had been doing so far and Yoongi listened to him attentively.
“They are beautiful. You have been doing a really good job. Both of you,” he said, his eyes darting to Namjoon.
He was tense, it wasn’t obvious but Namjoon could pick it up. He gave him a smile, hoping he would relax. Yoongi confused him but he thought he could understand him a little better now. “Thank you. What are you reading?”
“Oh, this?” Yoongi raised the book a little and shrugged. “I saw it and I thought it was interesting.”
“I haven’t seen that before,” Namjoon said.
The cover was painted in shades of yellow and orange, framing two pyramids. Without saying anything, Yoongi handed him the book. It was called The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho and it was a relatively short book. He turned it around to look at the synopsis and Jimin peeked at it over his shoulder. Namjoon wondered if you had read it or if it had been sitting there unread on your shelves for years. There were so many books in your library and you had admitted that you hadn’t read most of them, but you had also told them that once upon a time you used to read a hundred books a year.
“It does sound interesting,” Namjoon commented, passing back the book. “You should tell me if it is any good when you finish it.”
Yoongi looked down at the book’s cover. “I will.”
Jimin declared that they were done with gardening for the day and grabbed both of their hands, pulling them to the shade underneath one of the trees. They sat down and he situated himself with his head in Namjoon’s lap and his legs in Yoongi’s. Yoongi cracked open his book and began to read while Jimin talked about flowers.
♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩
“And… CUT!” you called. It was repeated again by Will and the actors relaxed, the expressions of their characters wiped clean. “That will be it for today. Thank you everyone!”
The crew buzzed as the cameras and the sound systems were turned off. People were talking to their earpieces and others were giving pats on the back to each other for another successful day on set. Crew members passed by and offered their congratulations to you.
“What are you rushing for?” Will asked.
You continued throwing everything carelessly into your backpack. “I’m visiting the gallery today, remember?”
“Right, that’s today,” he said, snapping his fingers. Some things stuck with you in entertainment. For example, the overexaggerated gestures. “I thought you had a company meeting dressed like this. A very important one.”
In the morning, you had put more thought into your outfit compared to a simple filming day. You were wearing tan trousers and a form-fitting black top embellished by a crossover belt that wrapped around the body and was tied together with a golden Medusa head emblem. The heels, the golden earrings, bracelets, and rings confirmed that filming wasn’t the only thing on your schedule.
You slung your backpack over your shoulder (you would switch it later with a black Dior bag you had in your car). “No meetings for me today. I really have to go. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”
“Have a good time, boss!”
You greeted any familiar faces on your way to your car and sent a quick message to Namjoon that you would be picking them up soon. The 8-seater car was an impulse purchase at a time when you had a larger friend group. You hadn’t used it much, only for a couple of short trips to private beaches.
You checked your appearance in the visor mirror and reapplied some powder and lipstick. You looked good enough, there wasn’t much more you could do.
The hybrids were waiting by the fountain. They had dressed nicely for the occasion, wearing some of the more formal outfits you had bought for them. You could feel the excitement in the air as they climbed into the car. It had been a long time since you had gone to the city like this. Jimin was quick to slide into the passenger seat, followed by a little happy dance at his success.
The exhibition was taking place in Central Los Angeles, housed in a tall and wide building that appeared to be made up of several cubes that jutted out of the main structure. Jungkook and Hoseok had their phones out, taking photos of the strange building. Distantly, you remembered coming here before but you couldn’t place when or why.
Eliana was waiting for you inside wearing a simple flowing blue dress and a large smile. You greeted each other with a hug and proceeded to introduce the boys to her. She shook their hands enthusiastically and in a few seconds she had already engaged them in a conversation about art. Usually, she talked quickly like she was rushing to get everything out before she forgot but she was talking slowly now, using simpler words and waiting for Hoseok to translate whenever he deemed he should.
She guided you through the gallery, floating ahead of you. She gave explanations of some of her works while she let others speak for themselves. Taehyung’s eyes were sparkling while she talked, in a way you had never seen before. His smile stayed on during your whole visit, big and boxy, and you finally felt like you were doing something right.
The other hybrids seemed to be enjoying themselves as well. Namjoon was asking plenty of questions about the meaning behind the paintings and her inspiration and Jungkook was very interested in the more technical aspect of her work. She readily answered all of their questions and when you pointed out that Jungkook spent a lot of his time painting, she encouraged him to show her some of his work. Although he was shy, hiding behind his floppy ears at first, Eliana managed to convince him to show her a few of the paintings he had on his phone. She was stunned when you told her he had only been painting for a few months and Jungkook grew even shier when she showered him in compliments.
At the end of the tour, she let you wander the gallery by yourselves for some time and then suggested going to the gallery’s gardens to hang out. The gardens were of considerable size, about as large as the inside of the gallery. Neatly trimmed flower bushes lined the pathways and plenty of modern sculptures decorated the space. A large fountain stood proudly in the middle and there was an artfully made gazebo raised on a platform at a far corner, overlooking the gardens.
You offered to go get some coffee and some baked goods from a nearby bakery/coffee shop you had found on the internet. Eliana protested at first but she gave in quickly at the promise of an iced Spanish latte and muffins. Namjoon volunteered to accompany you, although what surprised you was Yoongi offering to come along.
“You need more than two people to carry everything,” was the only explanation you got. You couldn’t deny that he was right.
He hadn’t been acting any different towards you since you had let him know about the nature of your relationship with Seokjin, so you acted the same way you always did too. His quiet acceptance was more than enough for you and it was a great weight off your shoulders.
You were talking about the exhibition, not surprised that Yoongi had been paying close attention to the paintings as he recalled his favorites, when a call of your name surprised you. The voice was familiar and, for a few seconds, you couldn’t place it. Until you could. And the peace froze over.
You turned around to find Jacob waving at you in the quiet street. His hair was cut much shorter than the last time you had seen him and his white loose pants and half-unbuttoned shirt made him look like he had just stepped off a yacht party. Maybe he had. His thousand-watt smile, reminiscent of a politician, was fixed firmly on his face.
“Hey, I knew it was you,” he said when he caught up with you, like he had won a prize. He pulled you into a quick hug and you didn’t know what to do with your hands until he let you go. “Haven’t seen you in ages.”
You wiped invisible dust from your trousers. “Yeah, I’ve been very busy.”
“You were never  one for rest, right? The woman always running, always working, never has time for anything else,” he joked and it shouldn’t bother you the way it did. He gestured to Yoongi and Namjoon, “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”
Namjoon looked politely curious and Yoongi downright uninterested.
“Right,” you said. “This is Yoongi and Namjoon. And this is Jacob.”
Their eyes sharpened the moment you uttered the name.
“I’m just Jacob now?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “After three years? Not even a friend?”
“I don’t know. It isn’t like we’ve spoken since last year.”
Initially after your breakup, you used to imagine how your next meeting would go and how the two of you would act around each other. Three years was a long time to share your life with someone to then go back to being strangers. You hadn’t entertained the idea much since then, you had found yourself thinking about him less and less. Still, whenever you thought about meeting him, you hadn’t anticipated the bitterness that grazed your insides.
Jacob chuckled awkwardly. “Well, you said you were busy. I have been busy as well, I’m working with a few very big names, you know. I got my hands on some of the best songs of the year.”
“I’m sure they’re great.”
“Haven’t you listened to any of them? You must have heard a few of them. They were everywhere.” Jacob was talented enough and well-connected and he sure liked to brag about it. “I asked Zayn and he said you were doing well, working of course. And you got yourself some company too.”
You clenched your jaw to bite back the harshness burning on the tip of your tongue. You hated the way he said it and the way it reminded you of your mother.
“It was a bit of a surprise, I’ll admit. I don’t remember you ever talking about adopting, you didn’t seem a big fan of the idea. No offense of course,” he directed the last part to Namjoon and Yoongi.
“Things change,” you said dismissively. “We have to go. There are people waiting for us.”
Jacob’s smile didn’t falter but his eyes narrowed a fraction for only a second. He may only be part of your past but you could still read him well. Was it the same for him? Had he ever been able to read you in the first place?
“Of course,” he said. “I’ll see you around.”
“Sure.”
You turned around and started walking, Namjoon and Yoongi following you. Last year you loved him enough to move in with him and this year you couldn’t stand to be in his presence. You thought you would feel nothing when you’d see him again but the truth was that everything about him irritated you. His poised smile, his bragging, his nonchalance.
Why was he able to get under your skin like this? You were over him, you didn’t want anything to do with him. But you were supposed to be civil, uninterested like the heroines who didn’t raise more than an eyebrow in the direction of their exes. It irked you and the way he looked at Namjoon and Yoongi irked you more. You had defended him to everyone, he wasn’t a bad guy, he didn’t treat you badly but as time passed you were starting to realize some things you couldn’t see clearly before.
Yoongi was the first one to speak up when you had almost reached the coffee shop, “What an asshole.”
“He isn’t–” You stopped yourself and laughed. “You know what? He is, a little bit.”
“A little bit?” he repeated, doubtfully.
“I don’t want to judge but…” The way Namjoon paused told you everything you needed to know. “I had to try very hard to stop myself from growling at him.”
Yoongi smirked. “Down, wolf.” Namjoon ignored him.
“Thank you for not doing that, that wouldn’t have ended well. Please, don’t growl at people.”
“I don’t know if I can promise that.”
Well, you couldn’t say that you minded that much. You could admit to yourself that Namjoon growling was kind of hot. And if the situation called for it…
“I didn’t like the way he spoke to you,” Namjoon said. “It was weird. There was something about it that was wrong, almost demeaning.”
“He can be like that sometimes. Like he is above almost everyone else, like some things are beneath him. He would make those stupid comments and I would always try to ignore them,” He was always supportive of your career and proud of your success but he had never shown interest in any of your other hobbies and likes. Reading was boring, paintings were overrated and overpriced, drinking tea was pretentious. “I never thought I would be one of those shit-talking their exes unless they did something really bad.”
“I support this shit-talking,” Namjoon said.
“I do too,” Yoongi agreed.
It made a strangely pleasant feeling run up your spine. “We’re here,” you said, instead of continuing the conversation. According to Google Maps, you had arrived at the coffee shop.
As you walked inside, you might have heard Yoongi saying lowly to Namjoon, “I kind of wanted to punch him.”
♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩
You were sitting on the chair in front of your vanity, braiding your hair and stuck thinking of the same scene. Before going to his room for the night, Taehyung had approached you and thanked you for taking him to the exhibition. His expression was sincere and you finally felt like you were moving in the right direction. 
When there was a knock at your door, you already knew who it was before you called for them to come in.
“Can we sleep here tonight?” Jimin asked, Jungkook draped over his back.
“When have I ever told you no?” you asked, finishing your braid and securing it in place with a silky scrunchy. “Go on.”
They both hopped on the bed, bouncing a little and sharing delightful smiles. You watched them through the mirror as they rolled around, holding each other.
Jimin looked up from where he was tangled with Jungkook, holding your gaze through his reflection. “Are you coming?”
“I am, I am,” you said, putting your brush back in the drawer.
You joined them on the bed, their hands quickly reaching for you and situating you between them like the last time. Jimin purred in contentment, rubbing his face in your collarbones. Jungkook held onto your arm and you could feel his breath caressing your neck with how close he was lying. 
An unwanted echo of what Jacob had said entered your mind.  Always working, never having time for anything else or anyone else, even the ones most important to you. You were gone most of the days and it made sense that they wanted to be close to you at least at night.
“Did you have fun today?” you asked them to distract yourself. 
“I loved it! Eliana was so nice and her paintings were incredible,” Jimin said.  “I took so many photos, my phone must be full of them.”
Jungkook nuzzled up closer to you. “I took many photos too. Can we print the one we took of us all together? I want to put it in our room.”
“Yes, please,” Jimin added cutely.
“Of course. You should print a couple more too, if you want, and choose some pretty frames for them. There is a lot of free space in your room.”
They cheered a little. You lied there in comfortable silence but you could detect a nervous energy in the air. It was in the way Jimin was fidgeting with the hem of your silk night shirt and how tightly Jungkook was gripping your arm. You waited until they were ready.
“We actually… we have something to tell you,” Jimin said.
“Anything you want, kitten,” you said, running your fingers through his hair. You could see how the use of the nickname affected him, squirming a little as his smile grew sweeter. “You know you can tell me anything.”
“I just–” He looked at Jungkook, who gave him an encouraging nod. “I kissed him, we kissed. And… it makes me very happy.”
Jungkook caught Jimin’s hand that was pulling at your shirt and intertwined their fingers, laying their joint hands on your stomach. “He makes me very happy too,” he said in a small voice.
The new knowledge was like a puzzle piece sliding into place. It felt natural to you that their relationship would progress like that. The way they looked at each other, the way they touched each other, was evidence of a deeply intimate connection. If the image your mind conjured of them kissing lit a spark in your chest, you hid it even from yourself.
“Thank you for telling me. If it makes you happy, then I am happy too. All I want for you is to be happy and know how loved you are. Come here.” You pulled them closer and placed lingering kisses on their foreheads. “I will always support you. Always.” You took a decision then. You couldn’t put it off any longer. “I have something to tell you too. Jimin already knows but Jungkook, I would like for you to know too. I don’t know how to say this exactly and I’m sorry we’ve kept this from you but I, Namjoon and Jin have been romantically involved. All of us. We have been kissing too.”
“Oh.” Jungkook paused. “That makes sense.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that, Jimin joining you. “I mean you’re very close and it just makes sense. We’re pack and I think that most packs are a little in love with each other, in one way or another,” he said. His cheeks felt hot against your shoulder.
In one way or another. He was right, it was such a special bond and you could imagine that for hybrids who felt the sense of pack deeper, the lines were easily blurred. A door opened in your mind but you closed it again forcefully.
Jimin fit his face in the crook of your neck. “I love you. I love you so much, all of you. Our pack. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you. I don’t know if I deserve this.” His voice was wet.
“You do,” you stated. “You deserve everything and more. And we love you so much. So much.”
Jungkook squeezed his hand. “We love you, Jiminie. Our pack wouldn’t be complete without you. We need you to be whole. We need everyone.”
Their hands remained linked over your abdomen as you fell asleep.
Please comment and reblog it motivates me to keep writing
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koiiiiijiii · 2 months
Text
windbreaker characters & their possible love trope (part 2)
warnings : smut part with wooin but i tried to make it more sensual then sexy, prob fluffiest stuff i ever wrote, as usual it might be ooc, not proofed read on your own risk!!)🧣💞🦢
thank you all guys for 287 followers!!(i wrote when it was 260!!) i hope my works makes your day a lil bit better and set some mood. i really appreciate all likes, reposts and especially!! comments and replies, in love with @sugardollie-907 @hjunsjoy @cozyunderworld @dialoguestetatet and wildylisa but idk why i can’t tag((( and so so many other people who comment (but i swear this holy five lives rent free in my comment section and it such a blessing🙏🏻)
thank you to every-everyone who supporting me, my works, it’s so gratifying to come here and see all notifications about your feedbacks!! also want to say thanks to all wb authors who ever posted and posting!! another source of motivation and inspiration🫵🏻😌💋💯🎀
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‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
vinny - a friend’s sister. you were definetely dom's or jay's sister, and vinny was so annoyed by you in the first place. not because of your personality or you annoyed him directly, but you were that "genious" in your sport, and vinny unitentionally compared you to jay jo, who were gifted with talent from birth. he was angry or annoyed to the point of goosebumps, he didn't even understand exactly what he was feeling, but he understood that this was a very strong storm of emotions and he was fixated on you. honestly? when your brother watches your competitions or casually tells about your successes, Vinny records it in his memory and will congratulate you later(dom as an older brother will 100% hype you up, fight me. he would show his phone to hummingbird crew with tearing puppy eyes “look, my lil gremlin winning those competition of hers”🥹🥹)Vinny would rather die by biting his neck than admit his feelings to someone, so it happens accidentally, maybe your chat went further than congratulating each other on winning competitions or your calls to him to find out where your brother is hanging around today. but because you were tired after the competition, you fell asleep leaving the chat open and not responding to his messages, leaving him on read. not to say that Vinny was offended by you, he just snapped at you for 3 days in a row, refusing to respond to messages. you had to take the situation into your own hands and hold his hand after another training and talk. “ta hell you want?” he said, frowning down at you. “just to talk and clearly” - you explained the situation to him and told him why you didn't answer, but since Vinny didn't know how to apologize and he had certain trust issues, it turned into another skirmish. it was evening and it was unnoticeable how the clouds thickened and the rain began to fall, but it didn't seem to bother two of you much because you were standing and yelling at each other for a reason you both didn't understand. Vinny's patience had always been zero, but now it seemed as if he was on the verge of reaching another stage of rabies. while you were shouting at him that you didn't understand why he started this quarrel at all, he just exhaled irritably and unknowingly blurted out “FUCK! because i was worried about you!!” as the argument reached its peak, Vinny's frustration peaked, his heart pounding with a mixture of anger and apprehension. yet, amidst the chaos of their exchange, a surge of emotion overcame him, compelling him to act on the impulse he'd long suppressed. with a sudden surge of courage, Vinny closed the distance between you, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. eyes met, mirroring the intensity of emotions, as Vinny leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. the rain continued to fall, its gentle rhythm enveloping both of you in a cocoon of intimacy as you melted into each other's embrace. Vinny’s body pressed to yours, rain-soaked and trembling, as the warmth of the spring evening mingled with the cool touch of the rain. in that moment, amidst the soft glow of the night lights and the soothing patter of raindrops, time seemed to stand still. the world around you faded into obscurity, leaving only the two bodies locked in a passionate embrace. as your lips parted, a sense of relief washed over, breaths mingling with the cool night air as you savored the sweetness of the moment. in the gentle caress of the rain and the warmth of each other's touch, you found solace, knowing that despite the storm raging around two of you, they were anchored in the calm of their love. as you kissed beneath the spring evening sky, a sense of peace washed over them, the tension of their argument melting away with each tender caress. In that fleeting moment, surrounded by the gentle embrace of the rain and the comforting glow of city lights, they found solace in each other's arms, their love renewed and strengthened by the storm they weathered together.
wooin - fake relationship. he commited it in the first place. since his work wasn’t permanent and he was constantly on the move, hanging here and there, Wooin thought it would be nice to have something permanent in his life. he needed excuse to tell his family why he can’t visit them on weekends - his girlfriend doesn’t feel well. them asking him all this “start a family” questions? sorry, y/n isn’t ready yet. some unforeseen situations? oh, y/n can be his trusted person. something didn't go according to plan? he can rely on y/n, if it isn’t something too difficult or dangerous. as a substitute he will gift you something, or will took you somewhere, thanking you for being his backup. genuinely it wasn’t something like friends with benefits, no, you two clearly share a bond, but it was something on the edge, as everybody thought you were dating. and in fact all this acts, you being his backup, him giving you small gifts, taking you on dates, sharing a bed - it all feels more like a relationship. but you never had this conversation, after another hot sex you could fall asleep together, for sure, but in the morning one of you definitely woke up in an empty bed. of course, it also happened that you woke up together, but in the morning Wooin was simply unbearable, and more often it ended with too caustic jokes. and it was always on the edge, you weren't in a relationship, you weren't friends, you weren't strangers, you were all together at once. at some point, it started to get exhausting. you noticed it first, but Wooin started talking about it first... well not actually talk, but mutter in the crook of your neck… today’s sex was different, the encounter was filled with a blend of sensuality and intensity, both of you asserting your desires while maintaining a balance of power. you bite each other, when it feels like too much, but immediately kissing and licking bite place, each of you tried to get leading role while another didn’t let it happen. today, Wooin's approach was different - not sloppy, fast and erratically, but slower, more deliberate, his touch gentle yet his thrusts firm. you were suffocating in his arms, and it seemed to him that he was drowning in the smell of your hair, your moans, how you trembled slightly from his hands on your chest, hips and neck. Wooin burrowed his nose deeper into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily and sniffing your scent. it was intoxicating, that feeling when you were next to him, when his hands slid over your body, your soft sobs, how the emotions on your pretty face changed depending on his pace. now, with his whole body pressed against you from behind, one hand holding your hip, and the other between your head and the pillow, his palm rested on your collarbones. while he was slowly sinking into you, and you were smiling and almost purring with pleasure, he caught himself thinking that he liked your smile. he likes to spend time with you, he likes to use an excuse in front of his parents and call you his girlfriend. his. Wooin liked the idea of you being his. he liked you. along with these thoughts, his pace increased, now he was digging his fingers into your thigh, and the other hand slid to your breast, squeezing it a little harder. you were both lost in your pleasure as you moaned louder and louder, he pressed his nose harder into your neck, whispering something that you couldn't make out. at one moment, he lifted his head, biting your earlobe, and pulling it slightly towards him, in a burst of emotion, he whispered "i like you"*
kwon - stranger to lovers/soulmetes - for the first time it seemed like someone corsed you. you moved to new flat in different district of Seul and now it was time to transport your stuff from old flat. everything started when you recieved message from a men who drove the car with your stuff, saying that he is stuck on a street because there are some stupid cycling competition and usual road is closed. amazing, you already were so stressed and here some cycling competition, but thankfully in the evening you finally recieved your stuff, mostly some boxes, small and big. when you were about to pick another heavy box you felt that it seemed strangely light. when you rise your eyes you saw a young man around your age. you thanked him for helping and he turned out to be almost your neighbor, one floor above and to the left of your neighbor's wall. next time you saw Kwon Hyeok in evelator…and you two were stuck there…for 3 hours…you were about to meet with your friends and, as you learned later, he was about to pick something to eat in nearest market. week later you met him in random cafe, where you decided to have a dinner alone, the owner of the cafe came up to you, saying that all the seats are occupied, but since you are alone, there was an empty place, behind the bar, just next to a guy your age (the old man grinned and has obviously already married you two in his head) so when you sat down carefully and apologized for the intrusion, you recognized that it was Kwon. you ordered your food and few drinks, and had a nice time together. and after a month of such unexpected encounters, you began to suspect 2 things - either fate brings you together, or he is a stalker. thankfully when you ran into each other again in the same cafe and drank a lot more this time, you admitted that you suspected him, and he, in turn, thought the same - that you were weird stalker girl who followed him around, and in that evening you laughed together from many things. when it was time to leave he understood that you were so drunk that you couldn’t even stand straight, so he took you by the elbow, hugged you with his free hand a little bit higher than your waist and led you home. along the way, of course, you mumbled something about how you like one handsome boy and he seemed like not paying attention to you and probably not even interested and why you're still alone…and then, under the soft glow of streetlights, amidst the hushed whispers of the night, it happened. in a moment that felt both inevitable and surreal, your lips met in a tender kiss, sealing the bond that had been silently growing between you. in that stolen moment, amid the chaos of the city, you found solace in each other's arms, knowing that fate had finally brought you together as more than just strangers in passing.
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
* i’m sorry, i don’t really know how to finish this part with wooin, as it already feels too ooc, it was more self inserted, like i was inspired by my latest situationship, bc i was in fucking same situation(it didn’t end well) , and it’s still kinda my roman empire, so i leave space for your imagination… if u don’t mind of course…🥹
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kikiyoomis · 7 months
Text
"what do even you like about me?"
sakusa is taken aback from your sudden question. the two of you were laying on bed, individually scrolling through your respective phones just before bed. there was nothing during the day that would've suggested your change in mood.
sakusa shuts his phone off and places it on the nightstand beside him before pulling you into his embrace.
"like? baby i'm so in love with you that there's nothing that i only 'like' about you," sakusa says while he buries his face into your neck.
"yea but... i'm not even that... special. i'm not super pretty or talented or smart or-" you say before the words are caught in your throat and tears starts to form.
"i feel like i just got lucky. like... why would you settle for someone like me?" you whisper.
you've had these thoughts for a while. before they only came up when you were going through a rough time with your self-confidence but recently, with sakusa's booming popularity as a highly anticipated rookie in the v league, what was left of your confidence completely shattered.
you were happy for him of course. you've been rooting for him ever since he started getting offers to play various division 1 teams. but now that your boyfriend was placed into the spotlight, you could also see all of the people who could easily take your spot as his lover. after all he had talented volleyball players, models, actors, idols and so many high status celebrities talking about him. surely he would find someone better than you who, in comparison to him, has amounted to virtually nothing.
"who said that?" sakusa asked concerned written all over his face. he sits up and pulls you into his embrace but you turn away from him.
"nobody..." you trail off, not wanting to admit that the person who put these ideas into your head was in fact yourself.
"please tell me what's going on. it can't be nobody putting those useless thoughts into your head," sakusa says soothingly as he twirls your hair around his finger gently.
"its just that... "you start but you cut yourself off. "it's nothing."
"it's not nothing. not if it has you this sad," sakusa says and you feel compelled to cry your heart out to him. to tell him about all of your worries and doubts. but what if it burdens him? he already has enough on his plate. the more you thought about it however, the less you could keep it in.
"i can't figure out why you would love someone like me. aren't i just bringing you down? sooner or later you'll find someone you love more and you won't even spare me a glance when leave. and every time i think about you leaving me i get so scared but i can't even be mad about it because if i were you i would leave me too," you finally say, tears falling down your cheeks as you finally verbalized the thoughts you held for years.
"i would never leave you. never in any lifetime of mine that i would leave you," sakusa says, trying to soothe you but your crying doesn't stop.
"i should've just stayed quiet and enjoyed my time as your s/o while it lasts. i shouldn't be this upset over the fact that you'll leave me because it's fated to happen."
sakusa pulls you into a tight embrace and as much as you want to push away, you give into his hug. he's whispering something but you can't make out what he's saying over your uneven breaths.
"y/n, i love everything about you. and i mean it. nobody, for the entirety of our relationship and before, ever came close." he brings his hands to you face and wipes your tears away with his thumb.
"but-"
"no buts."
after a few moments of silence, sakusa speaks up again.
"you know... the day you asked me out... i was going to confess to you the next day. i was so surprised, i had everything prepared and you come out of nowhere telling me that you liked me," sakusa says.
"but i was so happy you know? happier than winning the collegiate mvp. i mean for years i just had to silently deal with my feelings and who would've known that the person of my dreams is here in my arms. god, i don't even know where to start. i just... my feelings for you goes beyond love. i can't even form into words how hard my heart beats for you."
sakusa always had a way with words whenever the subject came to you. which is why you could never beat him in an argument no matter how ridiculous.
he leans in to you and places a soft kiss on your tear stained cheek. then he places another, following the trail before reaching your lips. he presses the kiss there a little longer than the gentle pecks he left on your cheeks.
you tilt your head slightly, letting your lips lock with his. you stay like that until one of you broke for air. you're greeted with sakusa's smiling face. a smile where it reaches his eyes and he's looking at you with such fondness you felt your heart skip a beat like it was the first time you had laid eyes on him.
"don't worry, i'll love you enough for the both of us. nobody will come between us, not even the stupid voices in your head." and just give me a couple weeks my love. a couple more weeks i'll prove to you how i love you by putting a ring on your finger.
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hotvintagepoll · 6 days
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Propaganda
Shima Iwashita (Goben no Tsubaki)—Shima Iwashita was THE leading lady of Shochiku (one of the 3 major movie studios in Japan) for over 16 years, including the entirety of 1960s. She's been two-time winner of the Blue Ribbon Awards for Best Actress and the winner of the Japanese Academy Award of actress in a leading role in 1977. Famously known in Japan as the actress best suited to wearing kimono, Iwashita often played elegant, strong-willed, and sometimes vengeful female characters. She is particularly adept at portraying women's independence and self-reliance, as well as their delicate inner feelings, and has portrayed a number of sentimental and individualistic women in her many period and contemporary dramas. Her talent was discovered by Yasujirō Ozu, one of the world's greatest filmmakers, who told Shochiku executives at the time, "She is an exceptional talent who comes along only once in a decade." Ozu cast her as the female lead in his final film An Autumn Afternoon before he died of cancer in 1963. Now at the age of 83, she is as beautiful as ever.
Grace Kelly (Rear Window, High Society, Dial M for Murder)—The literal princess of Hollywood (she retired at 26 to become princess of Monaco), her name said everything about why she was so hot. She carried herself with a grace and elegance you just don't see anymore. Her voice was sultry without being overbearing, and she had the ability to be sweet but suggest a deep sensuality at all times.
This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Shima Iwashita:
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Grace Kelly:
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flawlessly beautiful and a literal princess
Her facial structure? Flawless. Her eyes? Stunning. Her hair? Gorgeous. Her style? Immaculate. Every second she’s on screen, she just exudes this elegance and sophistication. It’s no wonder she ended up marrying a prince. But she’s got this mischief in her eyes that is compelling.
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She was so elegant, so beautiful and perfect I could cry for real. A fairy disguised as a woman.
the most beautiful of Hitchcock's "icy blondes". elegant, glamorous, she left hollywood to became an actual princess, I mean, COME ON
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she's so pretty and refined and elegant! I'm pretty sure taylor swift's blonde hair red lip look is modeled partly after her
She's just so elegant, look at her all dressed up like a Barbie doll in the latest fashions. There's a quiet dignity about her.
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Not only was she princess of Monaco she also is Stéphanie de Monaco's mother and yeah, vote for her she's soooo pretty That red dress in Dial M.... hot damn
To me, she is the first and only blonde. She earned it. Paired with Edith Head's costume design she is unstoppable. I dare anyone to watch her as Lisa Carol Fremont in Rear Window and not be completely blown away by her hotness.
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SHE IS SO PRETTY AND FASHIONABLE!! Not only that but she has an alluring aura to her in whatever film I've seen her in! Rear Window is just one of my personal favorite films she was in, especially for her costumes in that. And how many actresses can you say was a princess consort in addition to being a famous leading lady?
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radiodust-heart · 10 days
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Out of pocket idea. Angel is promised an actual acting role by the studio. Angel is over the moon with the idea of staring in a real film. He gushes about it to husker and Al is surprised the hear about the up coming film.
Curious Alastor goes to the studio to see the productiin, a change to see Angel actually act. But when he gets there and blows off Val and Vox hes disapointed to hear from Angel that Valentino flipped the script and its just a porno. Not as disapointed as Angel, the man openly receding in himself.
Alastor teases Vox about the flipped script. That vox is to scared to branch out as usual and that he and Val dont know how to use a soul to its full potental. This invoks a bet/deal. That Angel cant direct and act a horror film thats better then anything Vox cpuld create.
Alastor tells Angel he'll give him whatever he needs for the film as long as he doesnt have to be in it. Angel thanks him.
Angel pulls in Cherri and a few people Val doesnt own to create the perfect mix of horror and porn (ie 'X') he plays Maxin as Cherri plays the blond co star. As asked Angel keeps Alastor out of the sex scenes but asks his opinion on the gory parts and the story line. If its compeling enough, if its accuret and satisfying enough.
Alastor is suprised when he sees the takes. Angels acting so belivable he really thought the man was stuck on the property with his camera crew. He cant get over the talent the man has for visuals, music, pacing, character development. He's in awe.
Needless to say Angel wins the bet. Instead of Val owning the peice Alastor own it as his only piece of visual media. Not liking that he basically helped produce a porno but the Vs irritation and Angels self pride over his creation makes it worth it.
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lanandos · 29 days
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Treat you right
Lando Norris x self insert reader (no Y/N)
Self indulgent fic, heavily influenced by that video of Lando foam rolling in every carnival tiktok edit. Also that one vibrator speed.
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No beta read, head empty.
Lando knew growing up that he wasn’t like other kids. But when he met you, it solidified for him just how different his upbringing was.
As an adult, he understands that he grew up with privilege and that not all kids got to have the same opportunities he did.
It still shocks him how different things were for you and how sometimes it does feel like the two of you lived on different worlds.
He still finds himself absolutely absorbed in the details whenever you speak about what growing up without much money was like. Like how your parents were always home late after work and how you learnt to fend for yourself from an early age.
When you met Lando it felt surreal.
All motorsport was pretty popular in your family and with your friends, but F1 always felt more refined - more serious.
Despite how alien Lando’s world felt, he always felt right. It was exciting and truely a little terrifying to go on that first date, and then to make your relationship public. But the core of the relationship, what you felt for Lando, was never in doubt. You knew he was right for you.
Lando always seemed to find great joy in spoiling you, despite your protests and assurances all you needed was him. But you knew he liked the way your face lit up and to bicker with you about accepting the very luxurious, but always very thoughtful gift.
It still caught you off guard when Lando casually mentioned an impromptu stop to Bali in between race weekends at Melbourne and Suzuka.
Initially you refused, insisted he focus on his training back at Woking. But he’d made a very compelling argument that involved pleading eyes and talented fingers.
Which is how you came to find yourself waking in crisp white hotel sheets.
Stretching out to wring out the tiredness came with the thrill of knowing even with all your limbs fully extended, you still didn’t come close to edges of the bed.
It was quickly replaced with disappointment when your boyfriend’s side of the bed was cool and empty.
Sitting upright, you took in the room. It was a late flight in and you hadn’t taken the time to fully appreciate the plushness of the room before.
The most enticing aspect was the balcony which led straight to the ocean. A younger version of yourself had only seen water so blue and clear in movies, a stark contrast to the grey swell of water at home.
Peeling yourself from the bed, you found the note Lando always makes sure to leave when he wakes first.
morning love,
went for a run
will be back before breakfast
L xx
It wasn’t hard to pass the time showering and letting your hair dry whilst lounging out on the patio. But still, the sound of the door softly clicking open was welcome.
Lando slid into the room, looking confused when he didn’t immediately see you in bed or otherwise.
It only took him a moment to catch your eye, a bright smile crashing over his features.
It was early but warming up nicely outside and you appreciated the way his shorts and tee clung to his body. Lando greeted you with a bruising kiss, letting you know he clearly had plans for your time alone and out of the public eye.
“Hey sweetie,” he murmured against your mouth. You giggled and hummed a response, unable to speak properly whilst he insisted on keeping your mouths connected.
Lando never did things by halves, and this extended to his treatment of you. Right now that felt pretty delicious. You could feel your core fluttering and a sinful slideshow of possible options flickered through your mind.
His smell and touch was achingly welcome and distracting. You almost didn’t notice his hands pulling at your sundress. But a little voice reminded you that you both needed to eat, and a shower for Lando wouldn’t hurt, before you got carried away.
“Lando, you need to eat and have a shower,” you pushed his hands away and wiggled out from under his touch.
Lando pouted, clearly having other plans. But it gave you the opportunity to slip out from under his bent frame and come to stand next to him. Lando wasn’t extraordinarily tall, but you still lifted your chin to meet his gaze.
“Come on, I’m hungry.” Mentioning your own need for food seemed to motivate him and the heat in his gaze was replaced with refined focus.
You would have been more than pleased with the buffet on offer for all guests. But once the option for a more luxurious breakfast was offered to Lando, he didn’t even hesitate to agree.
The beach was secluded with lush greenery coming right up to the gentle waves of white sand stretching out to same blue ocean seen from the bedroom suite.
The cabana was composed of four wooden pillars draped with sheer white linens. There was thick foam padding the base with towels neatly folded on the cushions.
An assortment of plates were presented, each time you cut a pleading glance at Lando - overwhelmed by the volume and decadence of it all.
Lando was reclined back in the plush beddings, looking at ease in shorts and a barely buttoned shirt. His still damp hair was pushed back by a papaya orange cap.
His gaze never left you, occasionally biting down on his lower lip when you thanked the staff repeatedly or told them you were really quite fine and didn’t need anything further.
When the final plate was settled, Lando reached out to you. He guided you back into the crook of his arm and chest.
Lando peppered small kisses along your hairline, “baby, I want you to enjoy yourself. Let me treat you how you deserve to be treated everyday.”
You breathed in the scent of him and relaxed back into his embrace.
“Good girl,” Lando praised, voice low and full of promise.
Lando took great joy in feeding you small mouthfuls of delicious fruits and pastries. Each time you tasted something particularly delightful, you made sure to moan appreciatively against Lando’s still retreating fingers on your lips.
You’re weren’t oblivious to the game you were playing and kept an observant eye on Lando’s own responses. His chest was rising and falling subtly faster and when Lando offered you an index finger laden with cream, you eagerly closed your lips and lapped at the digit. The response was immediate, it felt like the universe had percolated down to the two of you tucked away in your private but not so private escape. Lando’s fingers flexed down to hold your jaw firm, whilst his remaining finger pressed down to meet your tongue.
Your gaze swept appreciatively along the toned lines of his torso and met his heady gaze above you. Lando’s pupils were blown wide and you could see the plans for your pleasure forming.
It made your lower stomach clench and a small sound of desperation push up from the back of your throat.
“I know baby, let me make you feel good,” Lando promised you sweetly.
Lando removed his finger from your lips with a reluctant pop. But he made sure to make it up to you. His slanted mouth pressed against your slick and parted lips. Your hand fisted in the fine linen of his shirt, before slipping underneath to begin gliding over his smooth skin.
Lando’s own hands got to work, pushing up the flip of your sundress. Your breath caught when you remembered your choice of underwear for today. A barely there wisp of lace and ribbon. It was something you had ordered custom, evidenced by the small silver number #4 charm dangling at the centre.
Lando’s fingers grazed the lace covering your ass before gently tracing the ruffled edge up to your hip. His mouth lifted off yours to allow him to glance down at the curve of your body.
“This all for me baby?” His voice rasped, fingers tentatively dipping under the laced edges. Lando’s question was revenant and emboldened your further.
You nodded your head, “let me show you,” you whispered under his jawline.
Lando let you go just far enough for you to press up onto your knees. You could see the occasional guest lingering by their own cabanas or taking in the oceanic views, but no one seemed to be looking towards the two of you too closely. There was also the added cover of the gently swaying curtains.
Your fingers reached down to hike the edge of the skirt up to your hips before pulling it up and over completely.
You had chosen to go without a bra today, as it felt too out of place with the air of enjoyment and sexual tension. Consequently, you were left fully on show to Lando. Save for your very thoughtful panties.
Lando looked you over boldly, gaze lingering on your breasts before dipping lower.
You could see when he recognised what the glinting charm was. His eyes focused in and you heard the groan of appreciation tumble from his lips.
“Baby, you’re too sweet for me. This all mine yeah?” Lando’s hands swept up your sides before coming back down to rest on your ass.
The flutters in your stomach had turned to borderline painful twists. You could feel the pooling arousal in your core and desperately needed Lando to start touching you proper.
“Lan, please I need you,” you pouted at Lando.
Lando hushed you before sitting up and shucking his own shirt off, before manhandling you onto your back in the cushions.
Deft fingers propped your knees apart, wide enough for Lando to situate himself in between. His gaze was heated, only flagging in intensity as he smirked when you squirmed beneath him.
“My pretty baby, gonna let me take care of you. Make you feel good yeah,” praise was tumbling from Lando’s lips and it was making you feel lightheaded already.
He kept his eyes on yours as his warm hands trailed down from your knees, sweeping over your thighs and up to your waist. He squeezed slightly here, spread fingers emphasising the rise and fall of your body.
Lando’s body tilted forward, a stabilising hand coming up to rest next to you.
The kiss he planted firmly on your lips was slow and deliberate.
His hand continued its path up to your chest, thumb brushing over your pebbled nipples. You whined at the touch and arched up, Lando shushed you again before dipping his head to drag his pointed tongue over the sensitive bud.
You did really try to keep quiet, you were outside after all, but the more daring side of you knew that Lando would take every noise as an encouragement to make you feel good.
Lando was steadfast in the attention he paid to your breasts. He lapped and sucked at them until you felt tender and so needy for more. A truely whiney sound made its way past your lips and Lando glanced up to meet your debauched gaze.
“Oh honey, you’re doing so good for me. Such perfect tits. Should I give your sweet pussy attention too?” He mused like it was inconsequential to him. The idea of him choosing not to touch you made your thighs clench down hard around his waist.
“Lan please, want you so bad,” your voice wavered and was thick with burgeoning tears. Lando shushed you again as he kissed more praise up over your chest and jaw. It calmed the panic in the back of your mind that he would keep up the teasing forever and never get on with it.
Lando’s hands began to slip your panties off your hips, but when your hands reached out to grab his wrists he stopped immediately.
Bypassing his wondering expression, you tugged at his shorts impatiently. If you were going to be wholly naked, you would like to have his own naked form pressed against you.
Lando chucked at your response, and obligingly stood to remove his shorts and briefs. He stood proud at the foot of the lounge, cock hard and shiny at the tip. It made your mouth water.
Then hands were back on you and you joined Lando in nudeness. Still sprawled on the crisp white, a vain voice whispered you must look pretty good given how appreciative and hungry Lando looked at you.
Lando kneeled again, but didn’t come to kiss you as you had expected. Instead he widened your legs before folding himself to lick a wet stripe up your inner thigh. It made your thighs clench down around his head and shoulders, which Lando promptly encouraged with a firm squeeze.
He settled in at the crux of your body and got to work licking and sucking along your thighs and hips. You barely registered the truely obscene noises coming from your mouth, but Lando must of been taking note as he mumbled praises for your sounds and responses to him throughout.
When his tongue dipped in to your folds, your body arched without control and you found your hands buried deep into Lando’s curls. Lando licked confidently over your dripping sex, his face buried deep between your thighs. He settled into a pattern which he knew built an earth shattering release in you. A finger dipped into your core and you felt your body welcoming it in. Lando’s mouth continued to work over your clit and you knew he had no intentions of letting you go without finding release like this.
It brought you closer to the edge when you remembered how shocked Lando was the first time you were intimate. Your previous partners never prioritised your pleasure, and you found yourself anxious anytime sex was initiated. Often slipping away to finish yourself off in the bathroom or not even being bothered to do that. It hadn’t crossed your mind that Lando would be outraged by the idea of you ending sex without orgasm, and he had proven his point that night over and over and over again.
A second finger entering you shook your mind back to the present, Lando lifted his head from his work to cast a questioning glance upwards.
“Where did my baby go there? Was I not fucking you well enough to keep your attention?” Lando mussed before dipping to lap at your core whilst keeping his eyes on you.
“Was just, ah, thinking about when, fuck fuck fuck, we first, fuck Lan, when you first fucked me,” your words were punctuated by Lando’s tongue sweeping over you. He seemed to find a thrill in knowing you were struggling to get a sentence out. Lando groaned deeply against you, and you felt your release building ever higher.
“You were so eager to please baby, always wanting to make me happy. But no one else has ever made you feel like this have they honey, no one else has known how to fuck your little brains out.” Lando’s voice was sweet and full of promise, with a healthy dose of male pride. His tongue returned with renewed purpose and you felt the band in your stomach ratcheting in tension. Words tumbled from your mouth, mostly just Lando’s name. He knew you were close to release and made every effort to deliver you there successfully.
Your eyes scrunched closed as Lando’s lips sealed over your clit and sucked. Your hand tightened on his curls in an effort to find purchase as you fell head over heels into bliss. Nothing else existed except for the waves of ecstasy coursing through your body and Lando’s ever obliging fingers working you through your mind numbing orgasm.
Your eyes only blinked open when you felt Lando’s dampened lips pressing over your temples, across your cheekbones, before settling over your own. As you came back to your bearings, your hands drifted across the planes of Lando’s chest and abdomen to find his dripping arousal. He sucked in a breath when you began to steadily pump his cock, sweeping fingers through his own wetness to soothe the glide.
Lando nipped at your jaw, before lifting up enough to be able to look down at where you held him. His hips fucked down into your grip and appreciated the sight of your hand around his flushed cock.
Despite your protest, Lando raised himself back up to his knees before arranging himself back in between your thighs. You felt the cooling wetness under your backside, and whilst it was slightly uncomfortable, it didn’t deter your enthusiasm for more.
Lando took his time gazing down at your exposed body and seemed particularly enraptured by your glistening sex. Fingers dragging through the dampness before fleetingly dipping back in.
“Lan please, want you to fuck me,” you pleaded. Hopeful that asking nicely would encourage him along.
Lando grinned at your desperate form before hiking your hips up and over his thighs, leaving you tilted and splayed open.
Lando fisted the base of his cock before tapping it over your still sensitive clit. You whined and squirmed in an effort to move away. All it earned you was a brisk slap to your outer thigh.
“I’ll fuck you how your body needs to be fucked baby. You can trust me to make you feel good,” Lando’s voice was heavy with lust and your core clenched down on emptiness.
When Lando decided to, he dragged his cock over the entrance to your heat. The head catching on your slick entrance and causing the both of you to moan.
Lando caught your gaze as he slowly began to sink into your wet heat. You could feel the way your body opened up for him. The firmness of him filling you up so deeply and stretching you so nicely had you grasping onto anything in reach.
Lando bottomed out and held deathly still whilst paying careful attention to your expression. It didn’t take long for you to whine for more, especially since he had opened you up so nicely on his mouth and fingers.
“So pretty for me baby, going to make you come all over my cock. Maybe have you come sitting on my face after so I can clean you up all nice.” Lando’s voice betrayed the air of calm control he was otherwise portraying. But you were too distracted to really call him out on it, as you knew his promises in the bedroom were incredibly reliable.
Lando drew back slowly and your senses narrowed down onto the feel of his thick cock sliding against your sensitive walls.
Lando fucked back into you, long delicious strokes that ended in a grind against your cunt. It had your vision blur and tears collect in the corners of your eyes.
Lando cooed down at you again, words of praise and pet names flowing freely now.
It was the steady and deliberate fucking which really got you going. There was no concern that Lando was going to leave you wanting, all you had to do was take what he gave you.
Lando’s fingers brushed against the burgeoning teardrops, temporarily clearing your vision. You blinked dazedly up at the cabana roof, momentarily coming back to the reality that Lando was fucking you outside in semi public.
“Sweet baby, gonna show anyone who’s looking at you that you’re mine and that it’s my cock you’re gagging for. Isn’t that right sunshine,” Lando’s voice was syrup sweet, but his possessiveness made your core clench down hard and a needy whine bubble up from your throat.
Lando bit out a curse, before a thumb was pressed down intently on your clit. You didn’t really have the leverage to arch against him, but your head tilted back against the plush bedding regardless.
Lando’s thumb swept circles over your clit, and in a moment of sex fuelled delirium your brain conjured up the image of each pass spiralling you closer to an orgasm. Which was true in a way.
Lando’s cock continued to press in slowly before being pulled back, each pass igniting newfound pleasure in your body.
“Lan, please fuck me harder,” you could barely whimper out your request, already so wrecked from pleasure. Lando obliged and each thrust came with a greater snap of his hips into yours. Lando ground down deeply when fully seated in your heat and you felt like you were about to choke on the overwhelming sense of him inside you.
The never ending endurance of Lando’s thrusts accompanied by the steady sweep of his thumb pushed you towards release.
But when Lando bent forward to suck a nipple into his mouth, his cock angled up against the spot in you which had you grasping at his shoulders and begging for him to never stop.
Consecutive orgasms for you always hit you like a truck, unexpected and earth shatteringly large. Your rising moans were muffled by a firm hand across your mouth, not that it really mattered to you in the moment. Lando picked up the pace as your windfall of orgasmic pleasure began to shift into overstimulation. Lando thrust into your spasming heat a handful of times before his hips stuttered and stilled against yours. Your hands swept over his back as he came back to his senses.
Lando grasped at one of the towels which had previously been neatly folded. He pulled out as carefully as could be managed before using the towel to gently clean you up.
Once satisfied, Lando slumped next to you on the plush seating.
Lando turned to press soft kisses across your face before slanting down to kiss your proper. When he leaned back his eyes were shimmering with teasing mirth.
“I believe I made a promise about cleaning you up darling,” his eyes crinkled as he took in your confused pout before realisation dawned on you.
You yelped when a hand pinched at the softness of your thigh before curling yourself up defensively against Lando’s side.
“Lan I can’t, but I wouldn’t say no to later,” you playfully swatted away his wandering hands before settling back against his body.
Lando pecked kisses across your shoulder and up along your neck whilst you both caught your breath and basked in the post organismic haze together.
266 notes · View notes
kairismess · 27 days
Note
Can you imagine Oikawa, Atsumu, or Sakusa with an artist s/o and their sketchbook is just full of them <333333
to be loved by an artist >>>>>>
Don’t feel like you have to do this I just really like how you write things <3
he loves the way you show him how much you adore him.
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when you gave him permission to look through the sketchbook he got you that you were almost done filling up with sketches and drawings, you felt a little insecure of what he might find in all those pages... and what he'd say in response.
as he flipped through the pages, while you turned away from him or covered your eyes, or did both as he murmured to himself, chuckled to himself at how adorable your little doodles were, he just had one question in mind: "why does it look like i'm your muse in every one of these sketches?"
when he turned to face you to ask you this, you blurted out that was how you wanted him to know you loved him. art was your forte, after all, it was what made sense to you the most–it was how you felt freest expressing yourself. and you couldn't find a better way to express how beautiful and gorgeous he appeared except through the skill of your pencil and hands.
you had a habit of portraying him and capturing moments of him in the most mundane scenarios–him practicing his tosses, spiking, tying his shoes, eating food, sleeping–but these moments were so intimate to you that you felt compelled to mix how you saw him with the image of him.
you saw him as beautiful, and you wanted to eternalize his beauty through the pages of your sketchbook; that was how you loved him, and he couldn't love you any more than he could now. a smile stretched across his face, and a twinkle danced in his eyes as he listened to you, watched you get flustered as you explained why he was all you could portray and draw.
he couldn't wish for anyone else to love him, because to him, to be immortalized by someone so talented and loving that they know just how to make even your worst moments look breathtaking... it makes him want to do everything to love you even a fraction of how you love him.
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valyrfia · 30 days
Note
top 5 f1 ships 👀
tied 5. chalex
I am just......weirdly compelled by this one. I'm not sure what it is. F3 teammates lore maybe? Chalex chose me one day and it makes me pause and go "hm" sometimes. Very compelling, I enjoy it.
tied 5. gax
Complete crack ship that again I'm now weirdly compelled by. Fully believe Kimi Antonelli is the result of an awkward one night stand from this.
4. galex
Galex are a warm hug. They are just what you need when you're at your lowest. The narrative is sweet and compelling, with mastermind George Russell being down just a bit horrendous. The anecdotes about them from their teenage years are also just so....childhood best friend who you admire greatly. I love them.
3. landoscar
Look, McLaren worked a miracle here. I'm not a massive fan of Lando on his own, but Lando if he does PR with Oscar? I'm sold. This dynamic is just incredibly entertaining, the fic is INSANELY fun. You know if you approach any sort of landoscar content you're going to leave feeling bubbly and thinking "well that was a good time". They're my ditzy night out of ships. I love them so much
2. brocedes
They haunt my brain. They are my Roman Empire. I think the below screenshots sums up my feelings about them
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lestappen
It could never be anyone else. The predestined and the inevitable. The soul tie they share and well, I run at least two blogs dedicated to them. They are once-in-a-generation talent born twice, with slightly too many coincidences for me to think it's anything other than destiny for them to fight for championships. We're privileged to get to watch their narrative unfold in real time, and I can't wait for the coming years.
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cozy-cinnamon-roll · 2 months
Text
A Princess' Guide to Interrogating a Radio Demon
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Pairing: Ler!Charlie, Lee!Alastor (strictly platonic)
Content/Trigger Warnings: tickling, interrogation (in the most playful sense). If there are any trigger warnings you'd like me to add in the future (and/or to this fic), PLEASE let me know! I am always happy to oblige.
This is a ticklefic! If that's not your cup of tea, kindly move along.
This is my first fic for Hazbin Hotel, so any feedback would be welcomed and deeply appreciated! (also, let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future work - I'm quite sure this'll be FAR from my last fic for this fandom hehe)
Hope you enjoy!
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Ever since he'd discovered glam metal, Angel has been blasting it nonstop from his room.
Unfortunately, his room happens to be directly beneath Alastor's... and the insulation in the hotel's walls leaves an awful lot to be desired. The Radio Demon's eye had been in a constant twitch for three days by the time he'd finally had enough.
"Alastor? Have you seen Angel's speakers?"
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When Charlie appears in his doorway, the demon in question is sitting comfortably on his couch, sipping a mug of black coffee and reading a newspaper (though Charlie isn't sure how he acquired it - the local paper has been out of print for weeks).
"No. But I've certainly had the displeasure of hearing them."
"They've gone missing. Do you have any idea where they might be?"
"Far away, I hope."
Charlie rolls her eyes and leaves to go consult the other guests. The deer takes a long draw from his mug.
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To Alastor's slight irritation, he only enjoys a few minutes of peace before the princess' voice echoes from the hall again.
"Oooh, Al...." Charlie sings.
"What is it, my dear?" the Radio Demon sings back absently.
"Nifty says she saw you with Angel's speakers yesterday."
"Did she?" He flips a page of his newspaper.
"Look, all I need to know is where you put them."
Long pause. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."
"Alastor."
"Whaaat?" Though his eyes haven't left the page, his grin has widened slightly. "You think I'm lying?"
"You're always lying. That's your thing."
"...Touché."
Charlie perches on the sofa beside him.
"Are you gonna tell me where it is or not?"
"Fine. I'll be completely honest with you."
She perks up.
"I would honestly die a second death before subjecting myself to one more note of that infernal garbage."
Alastor's eyes flick up from his paper for the briefest of seconds, just to watch the bubbly princess' face fall into a delightfully exasperated scowl.
"You can't steal someone's stuff just because it annoys you!"
"On the contrary. That's exactly what I did."
Charlie narrows her eyes. "Alastor. You tell me where Angel's speakers are or else."
Alastor chuckles in spite of himself - Charlie's attempts to be intimidating never fail to amuse him.
"What's so funny about that?"
"My dear, I say this with the utmost respect and admiration for your many talents: there's a reason I tend to be the one called upon to scare off demonic threats."
Charlie huffs and crosses her arms. "Just because you're creepier and... more sadistic than me, doesn't mean I don't have ways of making you talk."
"Oh?" Alastor arches a skeptical eyebrow at his paper.
"So you better watch your step, Mister."
"Hmm. You make a compelling case." He flips another page. "Maybe I should tell you where Angel's poor excuse for music is."
Charlie brightens. "Really?"
"No."
The princess deflates.
He's right, of course: even if Charlie figures out a way to make herself legitimately threatening to the Radio Demon... he's the fucking Radio Demon. She may be the Princess of Hell, but she doesn't want to have to rebuild the hotel from rubble all over again.
The two sit in impassive silence for a few minutes - Charlie glaring at Alastor, Alastor staring stubbornly at his paper - until she finally stifles a sigh and slouches against the cushions. He's enjoying this, she just knows it. Sitting there with that stupid grin. He's probably been laughing to himself all night, imagining poor Angel waking up and finding his most prized possession missing.
She finds herself wishing she could make the old deer laugh himself sick sometime, just to teach him a lesson.
...Which is a horrible thought! Charlie's eyes widen, her brow furrowing in self-disgust. She could never bring herself to hurt Alastor, even via laughter.
In fact, she quite likes his laugh - it's a little maniacal, sure, and certainly hard to truly enjoy amid the gory contexts that typically trigger it. But if she knew a way to make him laugh at something other than another person's expense, she'd probably do it all the time... it's just that the things that make him laugh also tend to make Charlie nauseous.
Once again, the princess finds herself completely baffled by her own subjects. How one could be so tickled by anything that goes on down here - the pain, the violence, the gore...
Charlie tilts her head. She may have just gotten an idea.
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If Alastor had happened to cast a quick glance down the couch, the smile creeping across Charlie's face would've been enough to give him real pause.
But since he is instead stubbornly focused on his paper, he is completely unprepared for the fingers that suddenly begin crawling oh-so-gently up his side.
To her initial disappointment, Charlie finds at least three layers of fabric dampening her touch, and aside from a subtle flinch at first contact, Alastor himself remains perfectly still.
But then a low buzz of radio static swells around them. As she probes up his ribs, she can hear a soft crinkle of paper as his grip tightens.
"Charlie..." His voice is oddly clipped.
"Mm?" Charlie takes one glance at his face, and her smile deepens - even Alastor's signature grin can't mask the effect. He's still technically staring at the paper, but his eyes have gone wide and blank. He opens his mouth to continue just as her fingers reach his armpit - and his jaw quickly clamps shut. It's clearly taking everything in him not to squirm.
"Got something to say, Al?" She starts pinching back down his ribcage.
"Mmph!" The giggles start in his chest, bubbling up and fighting to escape through clenched teeth. Soon his shoulders are shaking with the effort of holding them in.
"...Maybe about the location of a certain object?"
No response. The radio demon just curls forward a little, hiding his face in his paper.
Taking advantage of this new posture, Charlie slips her other arm around behind him, and gives a good pinch to both sides of his slender waist.
The demon straightens right back up with an audible gasp and tiny squeak of surprise (that he quickly tries to cover with a cough).
"Charlie! Are you s-seriously trying to-"
"Are you seriously ticklish?"
"No!"
In response she delivers another series of pinches to the same spot. His posture crumples again, until finally he loses his grip on his paper and twists to face her.
"No?" she giggles. And squeezes him again.
"Stop that!" He fumbles at her fingers, trying to pry them off his sides.
Instead Charlie swaps her hands, wrapping her fingers around his waist with both thumbs resting lightly on his stomach... and begins digging them right under his lower ribs.
That finally does it. He flinches back with a little snort, followed by soft but utterly helpless giggles pressed shyly into his hands.
"Awww!" Charlie coos.
"Keheh- f-fuckin'- heheh! - quiet!" His voice cracks amusingly on the last word.
There are about fifteen different things Charlie is dying to say as Alastor goes to pieces with laughter, but she can't think of anything that wouldn't risk embarrassing the poor guy - and humiliating him is the last thing she wants to do. The fact that Alastor hasn't instantly dissolved into shadows (or cursed her across the room) hasn't been lost on the princess; she is NOT about to jeopardize this moment by making him uncomfortable enough to do so.
That said, she is conducting an interrogation here.
"What was that about not being ticklish?"
His clutching at her wrists becomes more frantic. "Don't-!"
Alastor hyperventilates a couple times, trying to get ahold of himself - but then she continues squeezing down the sides of his belly, and he can only collapse into even worse laughter.
"I think I know just how to get you to talk..."
"Nohoho- ahagh, Charlie! Shihihit!"
Charlie shifts onto her knees for better leverage, gives him a gentle push backward, and pins him (surprisingly easily) against the couch. Her snaggle-toothed grin looms over him...
For a split-second, Alastor gets a flash of what his victims must've seen moments before they debuted on his show.
But he's pretty sure this isn't quite how they felt about it. He's already shaking with anticipatory giggles, grinning back at her wider than ever. And the giddy panic behind his eyes quickly forms an unlikely union with defiance.
"Do your worst, my dear."
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To be continued... pt. II is already in the works, so stay tuned!!
Until next time - hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! 💕
💜 - Cozy
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