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1kook · 4 years

Text

imax & climax

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags; jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn

[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]

Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away. His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today... well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”

“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

——

#goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #mine

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shortiedreams · 3 years

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Kylo Ren’s failed mission

There’s no pairing for this one, just a cute little developed headcanon based on the fanart below.

Characters involved: Eren, Gabi, Reiner, Armin, Falco, Pieck and Porco

CW: None :)

A/N: I don’t really know what’s with me and AOT headcanons today but I hope you enjoy them regardless. Shameless plug for my other post (an Eremika headcanon) which you can view here. Credits to the artist Marida on Twitter! Here is the original art piece.

It’s dinner time, and Reiner struggles to get Gabi to eat her vegetables.

Like he’s literally struggling because Gabi is fending the broccolis off with a toy lightsaber.

Her sudden interest for Star Wars is also because Reiner didn’t have the hearts to prohibit her from watching what she wants (even if the show contains violent scenes). Furthermore, he enjoyed the kid’s company when he was binging the classic series late at night.

Her current misbehaviour is obviously because the man spoils her too much and can’t get her to listen to him properly.

Eren, who was simultaneously eating whilst going on his phone, complains that Gabi was distracting everyone at the dining table.

He decides to show Reiner ‘the way of disciplining children’, and Reiner watches closely, amused at what tactics he was about to craft up.

“Imposter! Imposter!” Eren yells with a garbled mock-up of Kylo Ren’s accent, sending Reiner into immediate fits of laughter.

He picks up the enemy’s red lightsaber and starts jabbing it in Gabi’s direction to intimidate her.

“If you don’t eat your veggies now, there shall be consequences.” he declares in a funny tone.

Reiner, cackling to tears, pulls out his phone and starts recording the hilarious scene of Eren’s rare moments of interacting with Gabi. Only though, his stubby fingers are blocking the entire webcam.

Reiner sends the video the Pieck and Porco without checking twice. He doesn’t realise the only thing he managed to record was a 2 second clip of Gabi crying with him laughing in the background.

Porco: What is this?

Pieck: Why are you laughing at Gabi crying?

Also, bear in mind that Eren tolerance levels with kids are surfacing just above the negatives; in other words, he can’t stand them at all.

Therefore, in a matter of seconds, Eren’s “fake mad” switches up to real anger when Gabi would not accept his ‘friendly’ broccoli offer, but rather she cries.

He starts to jab both the fork and lightsaber around; Reiner practically losses it.

Armin, who was also present at the dinner table, took out his camera and took a much clearer photo of the scene.

He smiles to himself, and on the weekend, he decides to go and print it out, adding to the collection of photos he’s garnered of his friends.

He writes at the back of the photo, “Gabi fighting for her life as Eren corners her with a broccoli.”

Several years later and Gabi manages to get her hands of Armin’s scrapbook of photos.

A photo slips out of one of the pages and she reads the writing on the back of it.

Curious at the mention of her name, she flips it around and recalls the hilarious memory of Eren trying to feed her.

She laughs heartily, tells the story to Falco and Levi, who are both concerned by the end of it.

“Gabi,” Falco whines out her name, “You really made Mr Yeager do that?”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Levi grumbles, “Would’ve had a reason to kill that brat a long time ago.”

#aot headcanons #eren aot #armin aot #aot gabi #reiner aot #pieck #porco #eren yeager #armin arlert #gabi braun #reiner braun #levi #falco #comedic

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aespawpaq · 3 years

Text

Netflix and Chill (3)

IMAX and CLIMAX

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Sunghoon gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags; sh is an avid history channel viewer, sh hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, sh goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

Sunghoon sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Sunghoon’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

Sunghoon scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Sunghoon greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Isa swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Isa, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Sunghoon picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Sunghoon’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Sunghoon invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Sunghoon not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Sunghoon is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Sunghoonie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Sunghoon was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Sunghoon rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Sunghoon, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Sunghoon’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Sunghoon apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Sunghoon’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Sunghoon laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

——

You rarely use the key Sunghoon gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Sunghoon’s house were either the result of Sunghoon picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Sunghoon inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

His mom was going to kill him.

“ Sunghoon?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Sunghoon had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, hoon, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Heeseung would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Sunghoon goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Sunghoon doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Sunghoon’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Sunghoon doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “hoon, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Sunghoon’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Sunghoon sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

Sunghoon scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Sunghoon sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Sunghoon crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Sunghoon’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Sunghoon quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Sunghoon clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Sunghoon will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Sunghoon is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Sunghoon has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Sunghoon scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Sunghoon falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

Sunghoon says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Sunghoon gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Sunghoon sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Sunghoon laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away. His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Sunghoon teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Sunghoon has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

Sunghoon groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Sunghoon preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Sunghoon, you always came first. Sunghoon’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Sunghoon was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Sunghoon grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Sunghoon’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Sunghoon kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Sunghoon was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Sunghoon rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Sunghoon’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

Any other day Sunghoon would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today… well.

You were playing a different game.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

The action makes Sunghoon scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Sunghoon, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Sunghoon never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Sunghoon had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Sunghoon gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

Sunghoon was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Sunghoon leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Sunghoon smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Sunghoon sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Sunghoon hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Sunghoon doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Sunghoon adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Sunghoon‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Sunghoon, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Sunghoon finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

Sensing your uncertainty, Sunghoon tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Sunghoon kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Sunghoon takes your wrists in his hands.

Sunghoon mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Sunghoon that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Sunghoon smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “hoon!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Sunghoon’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Sunghoon either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “ Sunghoon, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Sunghoon wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

Sunghoon chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Sunghoon reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Sunghoon’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

Behind you Sunghoon tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Sunghoon scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

“And?” Sunghoon asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Sunghoon snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Sunghoon barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “hoon— Sunghoon!”

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Sunghoon nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Park Sunghoon, maybe Isa was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Sunghoon is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Sunghoon responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your hoon now.”

“My… hoon,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Sunghoon chases both your second orgasms.

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Sunghoon hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Sunghoon catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

Sunghoon laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don’t wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Park Sunghoon,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Sunghoon’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

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duskyskz · 4 years

Text

- Erasure - 1

Hwang Hyunjin x Female Reader

With washed out, dyed pastel hair, sea salt and acrylic clinging to his jeans, Hwang Hyunjin expected to find himself many places that night. A jail holding cell. Under the abandoned train station bridge. Maybe even his own bedroom.

Your living room wasn't on the list.

Warnings - Some angst in later chapters, suggestive/smut, minor character death mentions, Hyunjin is an eboy and a little angsty, Changbin is doing his best as a big brother, slow burn (?)

A/N - Finally! Sorry for the delays, my head just hasn’t been with me this week;; I hope you enjoy this series as much as I am excited to write it.

***

The steady buzzing of your speakers fills the living room as you watched Changbin scroll through the Netflix home page. Both of you settle deep into the sofa, balancing a bowl of popcorn and chocolate between your knees.

“Endgame? Homecoming, Nightmare on Elm Street?” Binnie flicks through the suggestions, and you shake your head in distaste. “I'm not watching that octopus documentary again!”

“You only hated it because you cried at the end.”

“She died! He had to look after her little babies! Your heart is too cold, too far gone for that level of compassion.” The last part of your brother's grumbles are cut off when you throw a burnt kernel at his forehead, barely missing his ear.

There’s nobody else home. Nobody else ever comes home, either. It's been just you and Changbin for a while, and it's not all that terrible. He’s a few years older than you, having graduated last summer and now undertaking an apprenticeship at the village police station. It doesn't pay a stellar amount, but Changbin reassures you once he passes the trainee exams he’ll treat you to a new pair of winter boots and you can finally quit the ice cream parlour to focus on college. You tell him that even if he wins the lottery tomorrow, you'll work your own job. For all the support your elder brother gives you, you like having your own thing. It makes you feel a little more involved, a little more even than jsit washing the dishes and doing his laundry on days he’s too tired to move.

The Thursday evening is reserved for you both, to catch up on the hours together you miss during the week when Changbin doesn't get back till you're fast asleep and you don't have the chance to say good morning.

He’s been doing that a lot more recently.

Sighing into his coffee, shaking his head at nobody in particular. It's easy to notice the signs of stress and overwork in his face, sunken and tired even on the weekends when he finishes early.

“Do you wanna finish Teen Wolf?” The softness in his voice when he addresses you is the same, though. “We have three episodes left of this season, if you wanna binge.”

“Sure.” You want to ask him about the circles under his eyes. What’s got him coming home later and later because nothing ever happens in this town. “I'm still waiting on Derek’s redemption arc.”

You're twenty minutes into the episode when a vibration from your coffee table catches your attention. You glance at Changbin, but he ignores his ringtone, flipping it to silent.

It rings again, no music, but harsh vibrations drumming against the polished wood.

And again.

Knowing he’s not picking up to make a point of it, you pause the show, nodding at the mobile he’s avoiding glancing at. “Go on. Pick up, it might be an emergency.”

“If it's an emergency they don't need an intern there.” Despite his words, Changbin shifts his position and you know he’s growing hesitant.

“If it's an emergency all the more reason for you to be there and learn.” You state with more force behind your tone. “Why have your grades been dropping? You're coming home so late but your exams keep getting delayed -”

“My grades are fine!” Changbin never snaps at you, but the frustration in his voice is evident. “I'm fine. There's just - Just one case we're working on and I'm nearly there, I just need time.”

You shut your mouth, letting him speak.

“There’s this kid who keeps tagging the beach houses on Dawning Lane, and that shit was expensive to put up last year. Some stupid, bored child that thinks a few cans of spraypaint and lung cancer are a good excuse for your adolescence. He’s not even that good… Just scribbles.”

His lips pout in a frustrated whine at the last phrase, and you know he’s more frustrated at the situation than he is at you or himself.

A beat of silence, interrupted by another ringtone - you almost reach for it yourself to check the caller ID and force him to pick up, before Changbin’s arm shoots out past you to snatch the device, slinking out the door and into the hallway.

You aren't surprised when a few moments later, your brother’s head pokes nervously out the door frame - He's already got his coat on, waving his phone at you as an awkward goodbye.

“I’ll see you in the morning, y/n.”

“Yeah, see ya.” You salute back, smiling to ease the tension in his shoulders, and it works a minimum. You won’t see him till the late evening at best.

The door clicks shut as soon as he turns around, leaving you surrounded by popcorn and empty space. You really aren't surprised - but it'd be pointless to deny you weren't hurt by another night alone with Teen Wolf playing idly through your TV speakers. Cold popcorn only did so much to soothe your heart, and the distance wedging itself recently between your sibling bond was hard to brush over, between missed calls and texts too often left unanswered.

You just really miss your big brother.

You commit yourself to Stiles Stilinsky instead, sighing into the blanket around your shoulders. Autumn rolls in quick by the seaside, making your calves prickle with goosebumps. It's nearing 11pm, you realise, picking up the -

Thump!

Your fingers freeze, hovering over the TV remote. Changbin wouldn’t be back yet, he never comes home the same night he leaves.

“Bin?” You try it anyway, calling tentatively into the hallway. It’s still entirely black, void of disruption.

Clang!

That definitely came from your kitchen.

Armed with a half empty popcorn bowl and nerves of steel, you tiptoe into the other room. There’s a lump of something or someone crouched behind the dining table, and your grip around the glass dish tightens marginally despite the quivering of your knees, fumbling for the lightswitch without taking your eyes off the rising dark mass as it straightens its back.

“S-Stay down! I have corn and I know how to use it!” You don’t have a fully formed plan yet, but you’re sure the sharp kernels will be of some importance. Fluorescent white light floods the kitchen, momentarily blinding both you and the intruder who now stands at full height. A steady 12 inches above you.

“Ouch! Calm down, I’m not going to rob you!” He says, sounding almost exasperated at your defense of your own property. He still has his hands raised in defense, keeping the table between himself and you, and you’re grateful he hasn’t tried to knock your legs out from under you, yet. “I’m not here to steal your stuff.”

“What are you here for, then?” You lower the popcorn bowl, but don’t let it fall out of your grasp. He doesn’t seem dangerous - He doesn’t seem like he could manage clambering through the window you always leave ajar either, but here he clearly is. There’s something sticky and pink in his blonde hair, stains following down his shoulder blades all the way down the cuffs of his jeans. If anything, he looks...a little lost.

“It’s the address on the post-it note.” Your confusion must have been plainly obvious, because the boy elaborates, pulling a crumpled neon-green paper from his jacket. “The post-it note that man gave me. That’s what Changbin gave me.”

Perhaps you lack self preservation instincts, but there’s an uncertain vibration in his voice that makes you give up your weapon and attitude.

“You know my brother?”

“He told me if I really need to go somewhere, I can come here.” You watch slim fingers tug at the sleeves of his jacket as he measures with a weight akin to a glare. “He didn’t tell me it was his house, or that somebody else was living here.”

Bold of him to accuse you of ruining his night plans.

It really did only click in your head when you looked closer at his tangled hair, dried paint clumping it together at the ends of bleached blonde strands. The artistic menace haunting your sea-side town was standing right on your tiled kitchen floor, and he looked downright miserable.

And Changbin had invited him.

Biting down the discomfort at realising how little Changbin had been telling you recently, you set the popcorn down on the table, you take in the threat currently three feet before you. A tall, lanky boy, with odd shoelaces and a sharpie sticking out of his trouser pocket. His hair hasn’t been cut in a while, and probably brushed either - it’d be generous to say he ran more than a stressed hand through it anytime recently. Though chapped, his full lips and wide eyes made him look far too innocent for his own good, and you blamed your soft heart for finding the boy kinda cute.

He did have a leaf stuck above his ear, though.

You almost reached up to remove it.

“Do you wanna watch Teen Wolf?” You break the quiet that settled, already shuffling your feet out into the living room. You sincerely hoped he’d follow. You weren’t sure what you could do apart from leaving him standing on cold tile, and he already looked freezing from the night chill.

Luckily for you, with a hesitant step, your impromptu companion takes after you to the couch where your Netflix and remove still await instruction. Changbin might grumble at you tomorrow at finishing the season without him, but you needed something to lure the boy into comfort.

“I’m y/n, by the way.” You mention. The boy sits stiffly, clasping his hands in his lap with parted lips, avoiding the decorative pillows.

“Hyunjin.” Now that he’s actually inside your house, Hyunjin’s confidence seems to have evaporated. The thrill of the break-in, if you can even call is that, has worn off, giving way to the nerves. He’s suddenly too conscious of the paint on his clothes, of sandy shoes still on his feet, of the smudges still on his cheeks. Should he take his jacket off? Or wipe his shoes?

You press resume, watching him relax after a few minutes as his brain finally has something else to focus on to let his worries ease. Hyunjin doesn't seem to mind you already being halfway through the episode, and you let yourself admit it’s nice having someone around this late at night.

“How do you know Changbin?” You ask while the topic is still fresh.

“I don’t.” Hyunjin bumps his knees together, fiddling with a loose string on his jeans as he shrugs. “I don’t really know him, he just...saw me around a few times, and I guess he figured I could use a place to crash. So he gave me your address.”

“You’re the mystery kid painting the beach houses, right? On Dawning Lane.”

At the accusation, Hyunjin’s lips part, flipping to face you with wide, blinking eyes., knowing he’s in no place to try and deny it. You blink back, observing his reactions, in case he suddenly changes his mind about staying. “Are you gonna turn me in?...”

“No.” You shake your head after a moment of thought, and he visibly untenses. “For whatever reason Changbin didn’t, so I won’t either. If he trusts you then I do too.”

You’ll never know if it was the murmurs of the TV, or if Hyunjin did whisper a thank you, and you won’t ask. There’s a lot of things you do want to ask, but a tug in your heart tells you now is not the time. Hyunjin looks exhausted, eyes drooping with every slow blink as he does his best to focus on the screen, hands previously tugging at his jeans now still and flat on his lap, slouched forward as if any moment he’ll drift off sitting on your pillows. Flurries of fluorescent light flicker on his cheeks, over barely scrubbed paint smudges and faint cuts from running too fast, you guess. In the delicate, dimmed light of your floor lamp, it’s hard to imagine Hyunjin as a bad kid. Prickly, maybe. On edge is a better word for it, tension clinging to his shoulders like stubborn dust bunnies. Curse your naive little heart, you tell yourself, building up your courage to speak.

“Hyunjin?” He hums in response, straightening his back. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”

All you’ve been taught in life sent alarm bells through your skull when you asked a complete stranger (who just two hours ago, broke in through your kitchen window) to sleep in your living room overnight, but Hyunjin didn’t feel like a stranger. Changbin trusted him enough to lead him right to your house, so that must count for something, right? And no matter how much you tried to keep your guard up around the boy, watching him struggle to stay upright instead of letting his tall, lanky body fall backward and rest comfortably only made you worry a little about him, not the other way around.

Well, he did say he’s not going to rob you.

“You can sleep on the couch if you want, I’ll bring you some blankets.” You prompt him again when he doesn’t respond. “Changbin won’t be back for a while still.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with that?” There’s a lilt of doubt in his voice, but he sincerely hopes you’re serious. This couch is warmer than anything he’s slept on in months and he really doesn’t want to crawl outside again with the rain pattering against your roof.

“Sure, you haven’t tried to stab me yet.” You shrug, getting up to fetch a duvet and looking him over.

“Ah, you probably want to wash your hair from all...that,” Hyunjin’s hand flies to his hair, patting out the tangles as if it’s the first time he’s noticed them. “You can use the bathroom upstairs, there’s towels by the shower already.”

He nods, following your directions with a ‘thank you’. Once his footsteps disappear up the landing, you set about pulling out the couch into a flatbed, rearranging the pillows at its base. Lugging the duvet down from Changbin’s room had been a feat, but you’re determined to make the space welcoming. Satisfied with the cushioned bundle you created, you run back upstairs.

You invade your brother’s room for the second time that day, tugging open his drawers in search for something acceptably pijama-like.

“Hyunjin?” You knock tentatively on the bathroom door as the shower head turns off and the shuffling ceases. “I’m leaving some clothes for you to change into outside, okay? Come downstairs when you’re ready.”

You scroll through your timeline as you wait, catching up on the last few hours’ events from your friends until a shuffling to your left prompts you to raise your head.

Your brother’s sweats hang a little loosely around Hyunjin’s hips, ending just above his ankles, bare feet sliding over the wooden floor of your living room, sinking into the rug as he steps closer to where you sit. His own clothing cradled in his arms close to his chest, you can’t stop your thoughts drifting momentarily to the damp mess of sunshine coloured hair. With his jacket on earlier, it was hard to make out his build under layers of fabric, but now it’s proving a challenge to not focus on the lines of his arms or the curves of his large hands gripping his clothes. Luckily for your dignity, your nerves of steel allow you to drag your gaze away from the collarbones peeking out from under thin white cotton higher to meet his eyes instead and find your voice again.

“I brought down some pillows for you, these are a bit too hard to sleep on.” You note, pointing to the decorative cushions you moved onto the lounge chair. “My room is right opposite the bathroom if you need anything, I’m a light sleeper.”

“M’okay.” Hyunjin towers above you, yet you’ve never seen a boy so dainty. There really is no other way to describe the delicate line of his nose bridge or the rosy tint of his lips when his tongue pokes out to lick them as he mulls over your words, settling down on the makeshift bed.

The proximity now feels different than the air between you when Teen Wolf still blared through your speakers, warm quiet heavy on your tongue with dim golden glow tumbling over his cheekbones that’s too much for your heart to take unprepared.

“Goodnight then!” You bounce up from the couch waving Hyunjin a quick goodbye, but a soft hand wrapping around your wrist pauses you.

“Wait,” Hyunjin brushes his thumb over your palm softly, and you hope he doesn't notice the goosebumps on your skin at the contact. “Thanks for not kicking me out...or calling the police. Y’know, as most people would for a break in.”

The smile he flashes you is almost teasing, but you can tell he means the words sincerely. You lay your other hand on top of his, patting in what you hope is a reassuring motion.

“Sure, Jinnie. It’s okay.”

#skz fluff #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin scenario #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin smut #stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagine #hyunjin erasure #hyunjin angst #stray kids imagines #changbin fluff

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youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 4 years

Text

But? Damian Wayne • Tim Drake

Pairing: Older!Damian Wayne x Plus Size Reader, Tim Drake x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Summary: you go through a lot because of Tim and Damian but in different ways.

Request: do you listen to asmr boyfriend roleplay (on yt)? Some of them would be great as fics.

Warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, sexual innuendos, language, fluff, a very light mention of violence, light mentions of insecurity, is rain a warning?

A/N: the fact that every fic I’ve written for these characters has the same concept is very funny but I definitely see the appeal and the potential.

Based off these YouTube videos: one two three

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Replaying it didn’t make it easier to digest. After months of plans to move in together and talks about adopting a dog, Tim had broken up with you. He fell for someone else, a person he spoke about often.

She was a coworker of his, a gorgeous woman if anyone asked you. You could never blame him for falling for someone like her, she looked like a model and was a badass agent — it just hurt.

Now you were packing the belongings he kept at your place to send them to him with Alfred. It seemed like he couldn’t only break your heart and walk away, Tim also had to humiliate you. Out of respect, Alfred didn’t ask anything at all, he merely reminded you he was always available for you and wished you a good night.

The TV show playing in front of you wasn’t being processed by your brain. Curled up on the bed, covered with the duvet and a fuzzy blanket, you were desperately trying to conceive some sleep, for your brain to at least calm down so your head would stop throbbing and your eyes twitching.

Startled by tapping on the window, you were forced to swallow the mucus clogging your nose. Coughing, you rolled on the bed to asses who had disturbed you. Upon realizing it was just Robin, you begrudgingly left the bed to open the window.

He entered the room without saying anything, waiting for you to lock the window and close the curtains to take his domino mask off. He always did that, no matter how many times you told him no one would see him.

Damian stared down at the dozens of used Kleenex in the trashcan you kept near the bed. “Why are you upset?”

“I thought you knew...” your voice was strained, throat too tired due to the sobbing.

“I clearly don’t.”

“Tim dumped me for someone else.” Saying it in front of his brother was even worse than you had imagined. “Why are you here if it isn’t because I forgot to pack his brown jacket?”

Damian plopped down on your desk chair, staring directly at you, “patrol was boring and father is with Kyle again.”

Nodding, you went back to your spot on the bed, making yourself comfortable with a pillow on your lap.

“Are you tired?”

You were, but you didn’t want to be alone. “Not at all,” you lied so he wouldn’t dare leave. “Do you want to watch that movie you recommended to me last month?”

“Sure.”

Browsing through different streaming services until you found the film, you saw Damian take parts of his suit off in order to be more comfortable. Surprising you, he sat down on the bed, just beside you, once you had found the title.

You had to admit that paying attention was easier with him around, probably because you didn’t want to annoy him. The film did its job, you finally got distracted — you also fell asleep.

It became a routine, every night he would tap on your window and make you company. Some nights you would stay up until sunrise when you had to go to work, others he would be so tired he’d crash out on your couch, and a few nights you fully rested because his presence made you feel calmer.

Damian and you had never been too close, he and Tim had a complicated relationship and you didn’t want to have problems with your now ex-boyfriend. Now you hoped you had, he wasn’t what you had thought — Damian was nicer than every member of the family made him out to be, funnier, smarter, kinder. You genuinely enjoyed being around him.

He was extremely patient with you. He’d recommend you things to entertain yourself, let you vent when you needed, and without having to do it, would often make sure you had been eating properly because he had observed that between how much you had cried the days after the breakup, your job, and your lack of sleep you were low on energy. Damian had even spent an entire week helping you redecorate the apartment to cheer your spirit.

Being close to Damian meant spending time at the park with Titus, a shit ton of it, and trying new food every weekend, and visiting art galleries which had never been your thing. Being close to Damian also meant worrying because with all of his skills and abilities he was the most stubborn man you had ever met who often fought blindly just to end up in the Batcave's medical wing with a worried Alfred calling you to let you know your friend was hurt but alive.

Most importantly, being close to him meant feeling free to be yourself. You were sure no one would believe you, but it had never been truer.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Elevators had you tired, ironically. The only reason you hadn’t taken the stairs was that you were carrying a portfolio full of documents, a book bag, your purse, and a coat — everything was wet, just like you. Taking an umbrella would’ve saved you many nuisances, or not walking home from work, but you were too distracted in the morning to remember and now you were paying for it thanks to the rain that came with the nearing seasonal change.

You liked the rain, its sound was soothing, the smell made you aware of your own existence as it awakened your senses, you felt cleansed by it. A lovely thing to experience overall, just not after a long day of work.

Stepping out the second the elevator doors slid open, you took the keys out of your coat with your right hand. You let the straps of your purse slide down to your forearm as you flexed your arm while introducing the key in the lock, when it turned, you sighed out of relief and pushed the door open to finally get inside.

The lights were already on, sizzling echoed around the small apartment and a familiar smell of stir-fried vegetables hit your nose. You hung your coat, letting it drip as much water it naturally could before even daring to put it into the dryer.

Walking further into the apartment, you found Damian in the kitchen. He was wearing the comfiest clothes you had seen him on, sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt with only a pair of white socks.

“What are you doing in here with this weather?” you asked, taking a look at what he was cooking.

“I was bored.”

He always said the same, you always told him you didn’t believe him but he ignored it every single time. Patting his back, you announced you would get changed.

“Don’t take too long, dinner will get cold!”

As much as you were fine with Damian being there( and his cuisine,) you had to wonder why couldn’t he tell you his reasonings for his presence at your place. One thing was him visiting when you were there and another him practically breaking into your apartment — you were open to give him a copy of the keys, to be honest, but you would really appreciate it if he asked.

Dinner was delicious, shared over talk about your day. Damian was avoiding speaking about his day, about his entire week actually — in the past month and a half he hadn’t done anything close to that.

Sat on the couch in order to continue bingeing the show the two of you had started last week, you considered asking him what was going on with him. It partially scared you, the last time a member of that family had acted like that toward you they broke your heart.

Taking a deep breath, you threw your head backward to rest it against the edge of the sofa. Damian watched you, frowning. “Are you okay?”

You answered in a hum. “You?”

“Peachy.”

You moved around the couch, opening your eyes to stare at him. He stared back, the frown slowly disappearing from his face as seconds passed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you inquired in a timid voice.

“Father is planning on retiring.”

“Oh... are you taking over?”

“Yes.”

You couldn’t picture anyone but him doing it. Dick had been miserable as Batman, Jason wasn’t interested in being like Bruce after everything that had happened, and Cass was finally finding a balance in her life.

“You don’t sound happy about it.”

“I am.”

“But?”

He shook his head, “but nothing. It was a long day.”

For your mental wellbeing, you didn’t press on it. He was clearly hiding something from you but he had the right to do so. It made you feel bad but whatever.

The lights flickered, prompting you to groan. The storm was getting worse, the sky was rumbling with thunder and the lighting striking the city and flashing into the living room through the thin white drapes was as mesmerizing as terrifying.

You mumbled, “can you stay?”

“Yes.”

Damian walked behind you, holding the flashlight from his cellphone to light the path toward your bedroom. You undid the bed quickly so he wouldn’t have to hold the device up for so long, you were sure it wasn’t an inconvenience to him but you still didn’t want to bother him.

He sat down on the bed, just next to you, “I’ll stay here until you fall asleep, then I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“You can sleep next to me if you want.” You felt your face burn up the second the words left your mouth yet you meant them. Oh, you did.

You heard shuffling. Assuming he was taking his sweatshirt off to get into bed, you moved away from the middle of the mattress toward the farthest side from him.

Getting under the duvet, Damian laid on his back. His cologne mixed with his usual smell of vanilla and almonds filled your nostrils as he dropped his head onto the pillow with his arms crossed against his front.

“Dami?” you whispered. He hummed in acknowledgment. “Can you get closer? I’m cold.”

With no hesitation, he turned over in order to lay on his side. Throwing his arm around you from behind, “Is that better?”

You relaxed with your back against his chest, letting a content sigh out. Damian inhaled deeply, taking a whiff off you. He did it again then, finding the smell of your lotion soothing. As he relaxed too, his arm curled around you more comfortably with his hand laying on your plump belly. You placed your hand on top of his, a little nervous yet excited. Being held was a nice feeling, one you had forgotten.

He lifted his fingers, brushing yours. You intertwined your fingers between his, playing with them. He huffed a light breath, caressing the sides of your fingers as you played with his.

Turning around, you got lost into the ethereal way the light from the lamppost entering through the window illuminated Damian’s side profile. He opened his mouth to probably say something but you abruptly shut him up. You did know what overcame you, it was something that had been simmering in you for the past month — the need of being near him, the butterflies that swarmed inside you when he laughed, the peace he brought you. He surprised you by kissing back.

“Shit,” you exclaimed, realizing you had actually done it. “I’m sorry, I—“

“It’s okay,” he interrupted to assure you. He placed his hand on your lower back, leaning in again. “Can we do it again?”

You kissed him again, feeling him tighten his arm around you in order to pull you closer. He deepened the kiss too, prying your mouth open as you held his face in order to ground yourself mentally. Damian laid you on your back, pushing you into the mattress as he straddled you — his lips didn’t leave yours, not even as both of you whimpered while his hands trailed up and down your thighs and yours mapped his back. Full-on making out with your best friend wasn’t how you pictured your shitty day ending, but you weren’t about to complain.

Damian couldn’t keep his lips off your face, enjoying the softness of your cheeks under his mouth and seeing the natural twitches of your nose which made him realize you were actually awake. He hoped he hadn’t awakened you up.

“I thought you were asleep.” The depth of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. “Were you pretending?”

You hummed, “it was hard with all those kisses.”

“I wasn’t kissing you,” he said teasingly, using his index and middle fingers to lift your head in order to continue kissing your face. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did. You?”

He answered, “yes. The best in months.” It felt good knowing you weren’t the only one.

Damian hugged you close with both arms, exhaling happily, “you’re very warm.”

Hiding your face in his chest, you hugged back. You didn’t know what it meant, or the meaning behind the gesture of still cuddling in bed with the guy you had started developing feelings for mere weeks after breaking up with his brother. But it didn’t matter, you were comfortable in his arms and happy with seemingly having cracked his shell.

You had to ask, however. “Did I overstep last night?”

“No, I told you it was okay.”

“Oh, yeah.”

He pulled away enough to fully face you. You attempted to ignore him, shifting under his gaze. Damian licked his lips, “did I make you think otherwise?”

You shook your head, the sound the friction of the side of your face made against the pillow too loud for your liking. “I just... I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Is this ruining our friendship?”

You stuttered, “I— I think so?” You weren’t sure.

“I want to ruin it,” he stated, eyes fixed on yours, “more than anything.”

Your eyes dropped to his mouth as he said it, his full lips tempting you again. You were scared of the lack of guilt you were feeling, but you happily gave in. “Let’s ruin it, then.”

Smiling brightly, he dipped his face in order to kiss you. You were certain you would never get over his soft lips, the warmth of his breath, the firmness of his touch, his intoxicating scent, his silky voice... God, he truly had you smitten.

Nuzzling against your shoulder, he intertwined his legs with yours. “I don’t want to get out of bed yet.”

You giggled. “Then don’t.”

Damian decided he could do that, just cuddle his favorite person in the world until something came up, maybe.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

You had been typing on your computer, as music harmonized your den-office when the doorbell rang. Looking at the time to try and guess who could be visiting you on a Tuesday noon, you pushed yourself back, away from the desk, in order to stand up.

Dot, the Labrador you had adopted no long ago wiggled her tail from her spot near the couch as you crossed the living room. She loved laying there, she had a good view of the door and could jump on you the second you got home.

You regretted opening the door the second you faced your visitor. Tim Drake smiled timidly at you, “hi, (Y/N).”

“I— uh, hello?” You tilted your head, confused as to what he was doing there, who had given him the address and why had he thought he would be welcome.

“Can I come in?”

You lifted your index finger. “Just a second.”

Opening the guest-closet, you took a pair of slippers out and padded back toward the door. Tim looked down at the slippers you were offering to him, then at his shoes — as he did, he realized you weren’t wearing any footwear.

He complied, taking his shoes off and sliding his feet into the slippers. When he asked where to put the pair of footwear he had just taken off, you pointed to a mat next to the door, just under the key holders. You closed the front door as he dropped his shoes.

“Wow,” he exclaimed, eyes taking in as much of the space around him as possible, “your taste has changed! How long has it been?”

“A little over a year and a half.”

“We really need to catch up!”

You motioned for him to sit down on the couch. Dot curiously stared at him when he did so while you asked, “do you want anything to drink?”

“Coffee would be fine,” he answered just to have more time to examine the living room. It was extremely luxurious, with a vaulted ceiling and oversized windows.

Curious about the overall design of the penthouse, and how good your job had to be for you to be able to pay for such living arrangements, he followed you toward the kitchen where you were preparing his coffee. It was as full of luxury as the living room, with stainless steel appliances, granite counter-tops and a breakfast bar the size of your previous apartment’s entire kitchen.

“How have you been?” He asked, sliding his palm against the marbled breakfast bar.

“I’ve been great.” You gave him a tight smile, placing the sugar bowl onto the bar.

“I’m glad. How’s your family?”

“They’re great, thank you.” Out of courtesy, you asked, “how have you been?”

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, “well, after I abruptly broke up with you, from which I’m very sorry because I was a dick, my girlfriend broke up with me too...”

“I’m sorry.” You genuinely felt for him, being dumped out of the blue wasn’t something you wished upon anyone. Pouring coffee into a mug, you handed it to him.

“It’s okay,” he smiled openly, nodding as a thank you for the coffee and dropping a couple of spoonfuls of sugar into the beverage, “I’m over it. I moved to Europe when Bruce said he needed someone to supervise the branch of the company there, the drama wasn’t good for my spirit.”

“Why are you back? It’s not like Gotham has changed.”

“My best friend is getting married.”

You hummed, finding estrange that you hadn’t been invited to the wedding.

“You have a new boy or anything?”

You stuttered, dropping a teabag into a cup, “perhaps.”

“Come on, (N/N), tell me! I won’t get mad.” He deviated his gaze. “I’m over you and everything.”

You confessed then, pouring hot water on top of the herbs, “I am dating Damian.”

“Which Damian?”

You waited for your ex-boyfriend to swallow the sip of coffee he had just taken and took the opportunity to have a sip of tea to calm your nerves. “Wayne,” you explained.

“You’re dating my little brother?!” He whisper-shouted. You simply nodded. “For how long?”

“Eleven months.”

“So what? You ran into his arms as soon as I broke up with you?!”

You didn’t appreciate the tone he was using or what he was insinuating. Definitely not when he had cheated on you without for once thinking of sparing your feelings.

“Damian was there for me when no one else had the time, it just happened.”

“I thought you were going to stay away from my family,” he reproached you.

In all honesty, you had thought the same thing. As much as Alfred had told you to call him if you needed anything when he went to pick up the belongings Tim kept at your place, you hadn’t planned on doing it — but that same night, when Damian arrived, tired after a long patrol, and playing dumb by saying he had just dropped by because he was bored you decided you didn’t have to, you didn’t want to. Eventually, you evolved, as many things had after that night, not for Damian nor because of him but next to him, with his patience and support.

“I can’t believe you,” he shook his head.

“I thought you were over me.”

“I’m not jealous! But you deserve better than him — you’re so pretty and nice and he’s selfish and mean and depends on Bruce for everything.”

That didn’t sound like Damian at all. “Maybe you don’t know your brother.”

“You’re telling me he’s changed? Because I don’t believe it.”

You couldn’t be a testimony of Damian’s change when you had never seen the version Tim described, but you could definitely say Damian was everything you had always wanted in a partner and more — he was what you needed, what you loved.

“You still can do way, waaaaaay better than him,” Tim interpreted your silence as a confirmation of Damian’s change.

“Like who, Timothy?”

“Like me!” he exploded, clenching his eyes shut for a couple seconds to control his breathing. “I’ll go straight to the point: I miss you. I came back to get you back, there’s no wedding. I was too stupid to see what I had when I had it, I know, but I’ve changed,” he assured, “I have a new philosophy, I’m surrounded by better people. I’m not blind anymore.”

“Neither I am.”

He ignored your comment and went on, “let’s just start again. In another country, a new house. We’ll adopt as many puppies as you want!” Tim took an envelope out, “I have two plane tickets here for tomorrow. One is yours.”

The front door unlocked loudly, prompting both you and Dot to crane your necks in order to stare at it. Damian pushed it open, shoes in hand and blazer draping over his forearm.

You saw him focus on the pair of shoes on the mat for mere seconds before Dot happily wiggled her tail at him as she approached him. Damian threw his blazer to the nearest couch, quickly undoing his tie which followed suit, before hunching down to pet the little dog.

Out of habit, you left the kitchen to walk toward him and greet him. He stood back up, naturally towering over you and kissing you softly, “hello, beloved.”

You giddily smiled, forgetting you weren’t alone, “hi, handsome. I missed you.” Wrapping your arms around his waist, you inhaled his scent. God, you had truly missed him. Sleeping without him wasn’t the same, nor having to rely on music or the tv for the place to not feel alone. Two days of not hearing his voice not waking up tangled up with him were too much sometimes.

Damian put his hands on your waist, sighing at finally being able to touch your soft body again. “I missed you more.” He leaned downward, placing his lips on yours again.

“(Y/N),” Tim pleaded from behind you, making you jump.

Damian parted from you, looking past your shoulder and directly at his brother. “Drake. What are you doing in here?”

You stepped to the side, opting for opening the terrace’s door so Dot could have some fun outside. In the background, as you leant against the doorway and watched the little dog sniff the terrace, you heard Tim say Alfred had given him the address. Oh, sweet Alfred, always trying to keep the family together.

Turning around, you saw them both sit down in front of each other in the living room. Trying to keep them from fighting, you walked back into the room and sat down next to your boyfriend.

Tim immediately told you, “please don’t throw it all to waste for him.”

Both Damian and you frowned. He put his hand on your thigh, like he had done the first time he had taken you to a business dinner as his date, like he had grown used to do under any table. It was your favorite gesture, he wasn’t a big fan of PDA but he still made sure to always be touching you — the fact that he loved your thighs when you had always been insecure due to their size was a nice addition.

“I’m over you, Tim. Damian is my boyfriend, and with who I want to be.”

“He’ll never love you like I do, he can’t.” Tim’s tone was the harshest you had heard from him.

He was right, though. Damian would never love you like Tim did, that was the whole point. You didn’t want what Tim had to offer, the kind of love he could give — you were past that, you had been for a long time now and it felt amazing.

Tired and spent, Damian hugged you extremely tightly while cuddling that night, almost to the point where you struggled to breathe. Wiggling in his arms in order to turn around and face him, you wrapped your arms around him as best as you could.

“What’s wrong, Dami?”

“Nothing.”

You dropped yourself onto your back, struggling to bring him in but ultimately succeeding. Damian sighed, shifting to be more comfortable as he laid his head on your bare chest.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled. Damian inhaled your scent, sighing in content — he was in his safe place. “I sometimes forget not everyone sees me the way you do.”

You supposed he was referring to Tim’s assumptions about him. “Does it bother you?”

“Only when they use it to try putting you against me.”

“You know they would never succeed, right?” You needed him to be aware of that.

“I do.”

“But?”

He moved to hover over you, fitting his legs between yours as he propped himself up with his elbows. “But it’s different when your ex does it. And no, I’m not jealous, I do trust you.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck. You understood what he meant, perfectly so. Damian had been there to pick up the pieces, he had helped you glue them together and even taught you to tweak them so the final piece would look better — with that, beautiful things had bloomed, but in between many tears had been shed on your behalf and many confessions had been made regarding your feelings in general; sprinkle in how hard it had been to process the fact that you had fallen for each other and you could understand where he was coming from. There was a piece of Damian in you, and there was a piece of you in him; at every level.

“It’s not relevant anymore, love,” you reminded him.

Damian caught your lips in a tender kiss, humming. “I just wish he wasn’t back.”

“He’ll be gone by tomorrow. And if he isn’t, I don’t care.” You started playing with his hair, unconsciously running your fingers up and down through his locks. “But I don’t want you to have a bad relationship with your brother because of me.”

“We’ve spoken about that.”

Damian had never been able to get along with Tim, his relationship with Dick was great and he had even built one with Jason, Cass was his favorite, and he had gotten to meet with Helena a few times. However, his resentment toward Tim heightened when you two started frequenting each other — he seemed to now despise him.

You tilted your head to pepper kisses over his jaw. “You’ll manage, Damian. You ignored him for years.”

Your boyfriend sighed dramatically, letting his weight gradually fall on top of you. Placing his hand on your cheek, he smirked before burying his face in your neck. “Besides,” Damian mumbled, “he’s not the one keeping you up tonight.”

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x plus size reader #tim drake x reader #tim drake x plus size reader #plus size fanfiction #plus size reader #robin x reader #robin x plus size reader #damian wayne #robin #dc x plus size reader #dc x reader #batfam x plus size reader #batfam x reader

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avauntus · 3 years

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Ooof... HI blog mutuals! How are you?

Back around January 5th, I had a cloud of commitments drift over my calendar at work, and I thought: :This will be a busy week.: Two months later... well, it’s a break period soon, and I will probably sleep through half of it.

I have been getting a few drabs of writing done, but it’s pretty fragmentary. I made progress on the mc:tna WIP! *jazz hands*

I also spent a lot of time the past month or so on the couch watching TV, because I didn’t have bandwidth for anything else. I want to do a quick impressions post, in case anyone is curious about these programs, too!

Below, thoughts on:

Alice in Borderland (Japan; Netflix)

His Dark Materials (British; HBO Max)

Raya and the Last Dragon (US; Disney+)

Vincenzo (Korea; Netflix)

WandaVision (US; Disney+)

Alice in Borderland (Netflix - 8 episodes, ends on a -minor- cliffhanger)

This one really grabbed me by the throat, but in a way that is entirely about style and setting. Characters in this drama don’t have a long shelf life, and like Battle Royale, it is extremely bloody. Also like Battle Royale, how much enjoyment you get out of it depends on your tolerance for watching people group up and then be shocked when the strangers they’ve decided to trust (inevitably) gruesomely betray them. If you enjoyed the style of Cube, Hunger Games, The Game, or Matrix Reloaded, and can stand (or like me, fast forward through) the gore, you might enjoy this.

Random impressions:

I know why Arisu is the main character, but brass tacks: if he didn’t have plot armor, he wouldn’t be. Usagi, Kuina, Karube, or Chishiya the entire way.

Almost the second I turned it off, a full-formed plot bunny of how Chishiya and Kuina met jumped in to my head, so maybe that will get written someday. Because they’re the best (regrettable murder-duo tendencies aside).

Either the borderland is a simulation, or they’re all stuck in someone’s psychotic break-- there’s too much that doesn’t add up for it to be anything else (although the “aliens!” theory is fun).

His Dark Materials (HBOMax - 2 seasons (15 eps), 3rd season in production)

I really wanted to like this more than I did... If you’ve read the books, and enjoyed them, it is a beautifully filmed version of that, but the show sells the grand drama of a War for Free Will much too short. Like, my favorite things in two seasons were Lee Scoresby (Lin Manuel Miranda, surprising the hell out of me), the City of Citagazze (what?), Mrs. Coulter (...what?!), and Lord Boreal.

Lyra, Pan, Will, the Golden Compass itself, the angels, the Spectres, the Magisterium -- ehhhh. They were fine. But not more than that. And some of the things I outright loved in the books were terrible here. Whoever cast Lord Asriel, the witches and Jopari/John Perry did...not do their best work, imo. I’ll probably watch season 3, but it won’t be a “must watch” for me.

Raya and the Last Dragon (Disney+ - animated film, ~2 hours)

I shelled out US $30 to see this opening weekend, and I’m not sorry about that choice. Reviewers are saying the story is a bit “generic” and...I guess? I think it depends on what you were expecting. But for me, this movie hit all my buttons - actual characterization for its female leads; humor; enemies to lovers friends; big epic conclusion to its story; found family; basically an RPG sourcebook lite approach to introducing the world; magic with consistent rules and NOT overpowered; BIG ol’ plothole at the end if someone wanted to write for it...

There has been another criticism leveled, in that Raya tries to take a “pan SE Asia” approach with its setting that really, really bothers some viewers. I tried to keep an eye out for it when I watched, and quickly realized I don’t know enough about artistic influences from that area of the world to be able to tell. So it didn’t bother me, but in that I might be part of the problem. I will say that the setting seemed to be a little too “flavor-y” in its regions if it was supposed to be one country originally. But I mean, this was also a film with a giant rolling armadillo-- wasn’t thinking about it very hard.

Vincenzo (Netflix - airing now, new eps Sat & Sun in the US)

Ahaha, where to START? I started watching this on a whim eating dinner one night, and it’s maybe my new favorite show. Netflix labels this a “dark comedy,” and yeah, I guess? I also sent my friend a text when I started binging this midweek that went, roughly:

“Ooh, now we’re staging an Italian mini-Epcot to stop the demolition gang, and GLITTER CANONS!! Also we’re ripping off The Great Gatsby.”

...and that’s the vibe, really.

This is the rare drama where I feel confident saying: Watch the first episode. If you like it, you’ll like the rest (so far- ep. 6 just aired). I am a BIG fan.

WandaVision (Disney+ - 9 episodes)

youtube

Ohhhh, man. This was so much better than I expected, and the second trailer (above, if YouTube lets you see it where you are) gave me high hopes. It’s probably better if you have a vague idea who Wanda and Vision are, but you know I don’t know that you would really need that?

It’s about nostalgia, love, grief, and the stories we tell ourselves-- the ones that are self-serving, and the stories we think serve us, and don’t. It actually lets Wanda lead in her own narrative, for once, but doesn’t undercut what she’s had to go through to get there. Like a Korean drama, the first few episodes are going to seem underwhelming if you’re there for “big P” plot-- but give it room.

Wanda facing down the beekeeper at the end of episode 2 gave me chills like very little has on TV for a while. Elizabeth Olsen packs a lot into that 2 seconds:

And Kathryn Hahn as Agnes is delightful. She’s totally on the up-and-up, of course-

Secondary shout-out to DR. Darcy Lewis, low-key saving the day and snarking her way through it. So happy to see her again, too.

I’ve watched the whole series now (last episode twice; cried both times) -- and I think this is going to be one of my favorite things of 2021.

#TV #mini-reviews #alice in borderland #raya and the last dragon #his dark materials #vincenzo #wandavision #i have opinions

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allthingsfangirl101 · 4 years

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More Than Friends–Dylan O’Brien

Requested by AnsleyRose

"Oh!" Tyler yelled, making us all jump. I looked over and laughed when I saw he was already wasted. "I almost forgot. Before he left, Dylan gave me his present for you."

My heart sank when he reminded me that my best friend wasn't even at my birthday party. When Dylan called to tell me he was stuck in Virginia filming American Assassin and couldn't get away, I tried to act like it didn't bother me, but it did.

I cleared my throat as I took the present out of Tyler's hand and slowly opened it. I sucked in a breath when I tossed the wrapping paper aside to see a blue velvet box. I hesitated before slowly opening it. When I did, my heart jumped into my throat.

"Oh my gosh," I said under my breath, my eyes watering.

"What is it?" Holland asked eagerly.

"It's a locket," I said, my voice getting caught in my throat.

"A locket?" Shelley asked softly.

"I can't believe. . . We saw this at a table at the farmer's market three months ago. When I saw it I. . . I told him that my grandmother used to have one just like it until it was stolen. I can't believe he went back and bought it."

"Wow," Tyler Hoechlin said under his breath.

"That's crazy," Dylan Spraberry said as he chuckled.

"Not that crazy," Posey scoffed. Everyone looked at him with wide eyes.

"What do you mean?" I stuttered, looking around at everyone's nervous faces.

"Come on," Tyler P. laughed. "Does it really surprise you that he did something so extreme? For you?"

"I don't. . ." I stuttered.

"I mean, we all know that he's been in lo. . ."

Before he could finish his sentence, Hoechlin elbowed him hard in his side. "What?" Posey said through his teeth. His eyes widened when he saw the way everyone was looking at him. He slowly looked at me, his eyes just getting bigger. "Oh shit."

"Wait, Dylan's. . ." I stuttered, not able to finish my thought.

"No," Hoechlin jumped in. "He's drunk. You know what Posey's like when he gets drunk. He says things without thinking."

"Things that are usually true," I said under my breath. I looked down at the locket, my eyes filling with tears. "Dylan loves me?" I said too soft for anyone else to hear.

"Hey, Y/N?" I looked up to see Holland watching me closely. "Random question for you," she said, clearing her throat, "do you have feelings for Dylan?"

That question bounced around my brain as I thought about mine and Dylan's relationship.

Dylan and I have always been close. We've been best friends since before he was famous. When he moved to LA, I came with him. I went to hair school while Dylan started filming Teen Wolf. In season 2, he got me a job doing the hair and make up for the entire cast.

Ever since I moved to LA, things have changed. Over the seasons, I've noticed Dylan doesn't go out on the weekends as much. Instead, he stays at home with me. We order a pizza and stay up late watching whatever show we were binging on Netflix.

I asked him why he wasn't going out with the Teen Wolf cast or Maze Runner boys and he laughed.

"I love the guys," he laughed after the tenth time of him spending a weekend with me and not the guys. "But they can be a group of assholes. And sometimes I just want a lazy Saturday night with my best friend."

The night he said that I started to really think about our relationship since I moved to LA with him. We were living together, we spent any free time we had together, and we were closer than before.

"Yes," I finally said. "I think I am."

* * * * *

I sat on my bed, nervously bouncing my leg as I looked down at my phone. I wasn't entirely sure what I was waiting for, but I waited. I sighed when I noticed my hands starting to shake. I tossed my phone onto my bed and stood up, starting to nervously pace across my room. I jumped when my phone started ringing. I hesitated before answering it.

"Hey," I said, trying not to sound as nervous as I was.

"Hey, you. How was your birthday? Sorry I couldn't call you yesterday on your actual birthday. We went and filmed one of the scenes in the cabin and we didn't have any service. I would've called you. I swear."

"I trust you," I laughed. I cleared my throat as I reached up and started to fiddle with the locket he gave me.

"Did Tyler give you my present?" He asked. Before I could give him an answer he started rambling. "Maybe I should've given the present to someone who wasn't guilty of always getting drunk at every party. Like Holland. She would've been the better choice. Shit, I should've given it to her."

"Dylan," I cut him off. "Don't worry. Even in his drunken state, Tyler remembered to give me your present."

"Good," he said, letting out a sigh of relief and a soft laugh.

"Dyl," I said, my voice getting caught in my throat as tears formed.

"Y/N? Are you okay? I didn't mean to make you cry. I thought. . ."

"No," I said quickly with a small giggle. "I love it! I mean. . . I can't believe you went back and bought this for me. Dylan, I can't believe you would do something like this for me."

"Really?" He asked, sounding a little weird. "Well," he cleared his throat, "of course I would do something like this for you, Y/N. You're. . . You're my best friend."

"I know," I stuttered. "It's just. . . No one has ever done something like this for me."

"Well," Dylan said, clearing his throat again. "You deserve it."

Silence fell between the two of us, a newfound awkward tension now part of our relationship. And I hated it.

"I gotta go," Dylan said, his voice soft. "We're filming another scene and I have to get down to the costume trailer and. . . I'll call you later."

"Dylan, wait."

My heart dropped into my stomach when he hung up. I slowly pulled my phone away from my ear, tears streaming down my cheeks. I sat on the end of my bed, a sob getting stuck in my throat.

The next few days were hell. Dylan didn't call me like usual. He wouldn't even text me back. Something was going on but I had no idea what it was. There was this tension between the two of us and I didn't know how to get rid of it.

I reorganized the makeup counter for the fifth time today. I didn't acknowledge it when the trailer door opened.

"You okay?"

I looked up at the mirror to see Holland standing in the doorway. I sighed as I turned around and leaned against the counter.

"This whole "Dylan and I not talking" thing is killing me," I said, my voice breaking. She sighed as she walked into the trailer and closed the door.

"This is just temporary," she said gently. "You guys will get passed it once he is no longer all the way in Virginia."

"I don't think the distance is what's going on with us," I sighed as I leaned back against the counter. "We've been apart before. It's just this time. . ."

"Honey," she sighed. "What if there isn't anything going on with you two? I mean, all of this started to happen after Tyler let it slip how Dylan feels about you. And when you realized that you might. . ."

"I do have feelings for Dylan," I cut her off. Her eyes widened when my words hit her.

"Really?" She said excitedly.

"We've been friends since we were kids. He's always been there for me, willing to rush to my side whenever I needed him. Why did it take me so long to realize that every time he stayed up late talking to me, every time he ditched the guys to be with me, every time he sat and held me after a breakup, meant so much more?"

Holland laughed as she wrapped her arms around me. "Y/N, sometimes people don't realize these things."

I broke the hug and immediately wrapped my arms around myself. "What if. . . What if something happens and I lose him?"

"You're not going to lose him, Y/N," she sighed. Just then there was a knock at the trailer door. We turned around to see Tyler standing in the doorway.

"Dylan's back."

We followed him out of the trailer but the second I saw Dylan, my heart dropped. He was standing there, introducing a beautiful woman to the cast. I ignored the looks from Tyler and Holland as I turned on my heel and walked quickly back to the makeup trailer.

* * * * *

All day I waited in the makeup trailer for Dylan to come see me but he never did. The longer I waited, the more my heart sank into my stomach.

I looked down and started fiddling with the locket. I sucked in a breath when I just now noticed that the locket opens. I quickly took it off and opened it. When I saw the picture inside the locket, a sob got stuck in my throat.

"Let me guess, you didn't know it opened."

I turned around to see Dylan standing in the doorway with a soft smile on his face. He looked down at the locket in my hand before looking back up at me. Another sob got stuck in my throat as I ran over to him, instantly jumping into his arms. He laughed as he caught me, wrapping his arms around me.

The picture in the locket was the picture our parents took the very first day we met. I was riding my bike when I fell. Dylan's parents unpacked their truck while he played with a basketball. When he saw me fall, he ran across the street and helped me up. He made sure I was okay and hugged me while I cried.

My parents rushed to me and his parents ran across the street. As he calmed me down, our parents talked. My mom invited them over for dinner and before dessert, Dylan and I took that picture.

"That's my favorite picture we've ever taken," he whispered, his arms still wrapped around me. "Whenever I'm away and I start to miss you, I find this picture and it always makes me smile."

I pulled out of the hug, tears still slowly streaming down my cheeks. Before I could think it through, I grabbed his face and pressed my lips to his. I quickly pulled away from him before he could start to kiss me back.

"I'm sorry," I stuttered, slowly letting go of his face. "I shouldn't have. . . I was just. . . Tyler told me. . . Well, he thinks. . . At least everyone else thinks. . . I have terrible timing. You are dating a new girl and I just. . ."

Dylan cut me off by pulling me into his chest and pressing his lips to mine. I moaned into the kiss as I started moving my lips in sync with his.

When we finally broke the kiss, both of us were out of breath. He leaned back, a smile on his face.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," I said with a small chuckle. His smile widened as he pulled me into him and pressed his lips back to mine.

"Wait," I said, breaking the kiss. "I thought you were with that woman I saw you with earlier. . ."

Dylan laughed as he shook his head. "That woman is Shiva. She plays Annika. She's visiting her boyfriend who's filming a few stages over."

"Oh," I said, my cheeks burning. I looked down at our feet, trying to hide my blush.

"Were you jealous?" He teased as he used his finger to make me look up at him.

"Maybe," I said under my breath.

He smirked as he slowly leaned towards me, his lips hovering next to mine and his breath hitting my face.

"Good."

#dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brien fanfic #friends

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universalimagines · 5 years

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Request from Anonymous: Hey! I love your writing! Could you do something similar to the request about Team Flash and Arrow, but with Legacies ladies (Josie, Lizzie, Hope and Penelope)? Thanks!!

Hope Mikaelson

You first worked with Hope on a project together for class.

At first she was aloof and snarked a lot with you.

However once the project was over you still wanted to hang out with her.

This surprised her but also secretly made her happy.

You were the first person she willingly opened up to about losing her family.

After she told you this, you hugged her tightly while she cried on your shoulder.

After that day you started spending most of your free time with Hope.

After class you’d both go to her room and binge watch Cutthroat Kitchen together on her bed.

You also encouraged her to come out more and spend time with other students.

Your first kiss was at your birthday party after she made you a cake and had it delivered to you.

After that first kiss, Hope gushed about how happy she was to be with you to anyone who’d listen.

Josie Saltzman

Josie and you met during the twins orientation for you as a new student.

Throughout the entire tour, you barely heard a word since you spent the entire time staring her.

Josie happily helped you find your way around the next day.

You first started hanging out with her when you needed a study partner to help you get through the first round of exams.

After a while you stopped needed tutoring but that didn’t stop you from using that as excuse to spend more time with her.

She caught on to this very quickly. However Josie enjoyed spending time with you so much that she didn’t say a word. (Especially since most of the study sessions just devolved into cuddling on the bed and talking)

One time you both fell asleep together and Lizzie used it as a reason to try and the set the two of you up on a date.

The two of you went on your first date out by the old mill watching movies together and cuddling on the couch you’d moved out there.

The date ended with the two of you kissing under the moonlight.

Everyday after that you and Josie would walk each other to class and kiss at the end of the school day.

But the weekends were the best especially after the Talent Show. Every weekend, Josie and you would sing and play music together out by the lake ending with a cuddle session and staring at the stars.

Lizzie Saltzman

You met Lizzie during the tour of the Salvatore School.

She didn’t even bother hiding the fact that she thought you were hot. (She came right out and said it)

Before the tour was over, she’d already asked you out on a date and told you when and where it would be.

However the date didn’t actually go over too well. After one of Penelope Park’s pranks, Lizzie had one of her meltdowns right in front of you.

She tried to run away crying but you chased after her.

You held her close and whispered kind words to her and you tried to talk her down from her episode.

As she hugged you, she was shocked to see someone she’d barely known be willing to help her after her meltdown.

She was nervous around you the next few days until you made it clear that what happened to her didn’t scare you away.

Lizzie straight up kissed you right there. (And you kissed back)

Your favorite time with Lizzie was during the weekends when you’d get the kitchen staff to make her brownies and you two could cuddle and relax at the fireplace.

Penelope Park

Penelope and you met when you arrived at the Salvatore School.

Penelope was great a flirting but you were impervious to her charms.

Needless to say she became interested in you and started learning everything she could about you.

She always had on the confident front but every time she spoke with you, she became flustered and spoke in sentence fragments. (Which M.G. joyed in playfully teasing her about.)

Eventually she decided to take a risk and starting spending time with you.

She would deny it till the day she died, but she deeply enjoyed spending time with you.

You both had fun whether it was traveling around town looking for a new restaurant or cuddling on the balcony doing nothing.

Her favorite date so far was after talent show when she lay right on your lap still in costume and kissed you all night.

On the weekends, you’d both go to the old swing and spend hours just enjoying each others presence. (Penelope would sometime intentionally fall on you and the two of your would just lay there for hours content with being together.

#legacies imagine #legacies #hope mikaelson #hope mikaelson imagine #josie saltzman imagine #lizzie saltzman #lizzie saltzman imagine #penelope park #penelope park imagine

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mrae71 · 3 years

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School’s Out

One thing people didn’t know about my father was that he was an awesome story teller. According to his tales, he lived quite a life. I’m not sure how much he told was fact or fiction; I call it fiction presented as fact. I am currently compiling his stories into a book, and here’s one of them:

School’s Out

Rudy stared eagerly at the clock, watching the seconds, then minutes tick by as the school year came to a close. The classroom was like a furnace, not only holding in heat, but seeming to also take it in through the open windows. He waited eagerly as his teacher, Mrs. Winlock, passed out the year-end reports one by one.

After handing them all out, she sat down at her desk and said those final, long awaited words to her class of fifth, sixth and seventh graders, “thank you class, see you next year!” With that the children let out a collective whoop as they quickly gathered their things and left the drudgery of books and assignments behind them. Except Rudy. He sat quietly perplexed; he hadn’t received a home report.

“Reuben,” Mrs. Winlock said softly, “stay behind please, I’d like to speak with you.”

Rudy remained in his seat and nodded. He liked Mrs. Winlock, she was kind and patient. She came from one of the town’s most prominent and wealthy families, living in a huge Victorian home on acres of land. She even had servants. He had heard adults saying that her family used to own slaves, but he never dared ask about it. First, he was eavesdropping on what was supposed to be a conversation between his aunt and his grandmother, a conversation that he was sternly ordered to see himself away from. And secondly, even at 11, he knew it would be rude to bring up such a delicate matter.

Mrs. Winlock waited for the room to empty and then approached the child, envelope in hand. She sat on the desk beside him and began gently, “first, Reuben,” she always addressed him by his proper name, “I wanted to know, would you like to work for me again this summer?”

Rudy smiled widely, nodding his head. He had worked for her all last summer, and enjoyed it ever much, tending the gardens, cutting grass, piling wood, mending fences, tending animals, and generally doing anything that needed doing. He only worked through the week, leaving his weekends free to fish or play ball and she always invited him inside for a tasty lunch. “Yes, ma’am, I’d like that.”

The teacher smiled warmly, “good,” she patted his arm, “I can do $5 a week, plus, just like last year, you’re free to take home some of the produce, fruit, etc. that we won’t require, does that suit you?”

He nodded eagerly, $5 was a full 50 cents over and above his weekly wage the year before, and the work wasn’t all that hard.

Mrs. Winlock shoved the few greyish-brown strands of hair that hung from her neat bun behind her ear and took a deep breath before handing Rudy his home report. She wished more than anything that she could rip it up, call it a huge mistake and welcome the boy as a sixth-grade student the coming fall. But that wasn’t going to happen. He simply hadn’t achieved the necessary outcomes to warrant promotion.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. Not on her part, and not on his. Sure, Rudy was like most boys, more interested in what was going on outside than what was happening at the front of the classroom, but he was always quiet, attentive enough and eager to please. The truth was, Mrs. Winlock, even with over 30 years as a teacher, had no idea what the disconnect was. Rudy wasn’t stupid, not by a long shot. He wasn’t one of the many children she’d seen in her career that were just simply slower than most to comprehend. In fact, she found the young lad very quick to pick things up, especially if he were shown it.

She remembered the time her husband, a fairly feeble man for 54 after having had a fairly severe stroke which left him with limited mobility on his right side, went outside and showed Rudy just how to prune the tomato plants, cutting the shooters to allow the blossoming vines more room to grow. He only needed one quick lesson, which was more than the teacher could say for herself. In fact, her husband, Ned, forbade her from ever touching the tomato plants after more than once having hacked them half to death.

She couldn’t put her finger on it, if she could have, she’d have fixed it, but somehow, whatever she was doing in the classroom wasn’t getting through to the bright-eyed child. It was as if whatever his mind responded to had nothing to do with classroom teaching and while he was able to slide by with marginally acceptable results until now, as the work became more complex, she saw him fall further and further behind.

She had thought about doing the charitable thing and pushing him through, reasoning that perhaps the confidence boost would propel the boy to work harder but decided against it. She knew of other teachers who had done so and if she were honest, she had done it a time or two herself, but the circumstances were different. She normally reserved such mercy for those students who had a track record of turning in good performances and then suddenly, usually due to some issue at home, sometimes something as simple as plain old hunger, had fallen behind. The fact was Rudy was falling further and further behind with every grade and to advance him to the next grade would serve no one, not the class, not herself and not Rudy. “Please take this home directly,” she said firmly, handing him the envelope, “do not open it, I want your mother to read it first, do you understand?”

Rudy nodded. He knew what it said anyway. The entire year had been a long series of F’s and “please try agains”. It didn’t take any sort of eminent scholar to see the writing on the schoolhouse wall. “Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Winlock, I will.”

The teacher chocked back her tears and turned her head momentarily to compose herself. She didn’t want Rudy to see her upset. She didn’t want to upset him. She cared a great deal for the lad. In fact, she could readily admit to herself, and to her husband, that he was the favourite of all her students, ever. She imagined had she been able to bear a child, he’d have been much like Rudy, strikingly handsome, tall and wiry, strong as a small ox. He was hard working and wanted only to please those around him. He had a surprisingly soft heart that most people didn’t take the time to see. He seemed to take very well to and to protect the younger children just coming into school and she had caught him more than once cradling or singing to a calf or a lamb in her barn.

She’d spent five years watching him grow and blossom, fight and struggle and she knew about his homelife. Woodstock wasn’t a big town and talk got around. She knew the black eyes and bruises he often sported came from the hand of his father after downing more than his share of whiskey.

She didn’t know Reuben Senior as a younger man but had heard the stories. He was once just like his son, sweet, tender hearted but with a steel exterior. He had somehow managed to lie his way into military service in 1916, stating his age as 18 rather than 16 in order to do his part for the country and as the story goes, he came back from the First World War alive, but forever changed. But that wasn’t the straw that broke the camel’s back she knew. He came back more aggressive for sure and made a name for himself as quite a good boxer. But years later, when young Rudy was just a baby, he and Thea lost a child, baby Grace. Mrs. Winlock was given to understand that the 10-month-old was a perfectly healthy infant until suddenly falling ill and passing away some five or six days later. It seemed Reuben senior never recovered from the loss and his aggression quickly turned to red hot anger and the occasional drink with the guys turned into binge drinking to the point of blackout.

Rudy, she knew got the brunt of his father’s aggression and she worried for the child, wondering what this home report would bring. Sober, he seemed a decent enough sort, she’d spoken to him several times and he was quick witted, but quiet, almost charming. However, fueled by drink, he often sought his oldest son out and took out his frustrations on him. It was as though the child, who was in fact, visually, the very picture of his father thirty years prior, represented all the unfulfilled hopes, plans, and dreams he had that never worked out. What better way to address what you see as your shortcomings than to beat up on your younger self? Well, except for the fact, he was beating on his son. She shook her head, trying to make the awful thought disappear, “Reuben, please, promise me, you’ll take this directly to your mother, she begged, sounding a little more desperate than she had intended.

Rudy agreed and was dismissed. He walked outside into the late-June heat and found the school yard empty. He walked toward home, just far enough to get out of sight. He darted behind a group of trees and opened the envelope. He scanned it furiously, not wanting to be caught. He skipped over the individual subject reports to get to the bottom line, “I regret to inform that Reuben has not met the necessary requirements to be promoted and will be required to repeat fifth grade.” His heart sank and he sat down behind the tree and cried, his head in his knees. He knew it was coming, but he hoped, naively, as children do, that maybe, just maybe, it would all be okay, but there it was in print. He mourned the defeat, dried his tears and after a few moments, stood up and walked home, knowing exactly what he would do.

When he arrived home, he saw his mother surrounded by many of his siblings, all basking in her praise. Of course, Althea was front and centre, basking in her triumph. Having jut turned 13 the month before, she was quickly taking on the bearing of a young woman. She was slender, curvy and had a pretty face which boys were starting to notice. However, she had very little time for local boys or their nonsense. She had plans, plans to become a teacher and later a wife and mother. She was to spend her summer minding Dr. and Mrs. Baldwin’s eight children and taking in sewing in her free time. She was to be paid $3 a week, but she kept some for herself. He didn’t understand all the ins and outs of it, but his mother explained that young women needed pocket money for important things, things only women understood. He imagined it had something to do with dresses or maybe lipstick. She, of course, received glowing marks, and finished top of the seventh-grade class.

Enid stood right behind her sister, jumping up and down, eagerly awaiting her turn at praise. She was a tiny wisp of a girl, but her personality loomed larger than life. She did reasonably well this year. Her home reports going forward always read the same, “Enid is capable of exceptional work when she puts her mind to it,” and this year was no exception. She was a bright girl, there was no doubt, but she had a streak in her, a fierce independence that often bordered on defiance and troubled their mother. The girl was intent on doing things her way. She wasn’t unruly or disobedient, but had something not often seen in little girls of the time, a sense that she wasn’t supposed to conform to the world, but that in fact it was the other way about, the world should conform to her. Their grandmother politely called her a “spirited child.”

Then there was Bobby, he managed to get through second grade unscathed although his teacher opined that “further effort will be required to be successful in coming years.”

And finally, David, the impish first-grader, complete with a toothless grin. Sharp as a tack, but inattentive and mischievous. He was the first to peer out the window at anyone or anything that happened by. He was also the first first-grader to put a dead frog on Mrs. Mullins’ chair back in October. He denied it vehemently, but his guilty giggles gave him away. His older brother Bobby saved him from his father’s beating, claiming responsibility for the prank, something he often did. In any event, despite his lack of attention and his tendency toward pranks, he got through with better than average grades.

Rudy lowered his head and when the crowd dispersed, having received an adequate amount of praise, approached his mother, cleared his throat and handed her his home report, “Mrs. Winlock says for you to read this,” his face reddened with shame. The idea of disappointing his mother killed him. He knew she worked so hard, especially now, with so many children. There was him, Althea, Enid, Bobby, David, Jimmy, Johnny, and now, baby Francine, just six months old. She was a pretty baby and from what he could see, fairly well behaved. She didn’t fuss a lot. That made eight kids, and he had heard whispers that another may be on the way, but that hadn’t been confirmed. He kind of hoped not, the house was a tight squeeze as it was, the boys, Bobby, David, Jimmy, and himself, shared one room while the babies, Johnny and Francine shared another. Althea, who had previously enjoyed the enviable position of having her own room had recently been forced to suffer the indignity of sharing with Enid. Rudy was sure she hated that, but in true Althea fashion, she accepted the assignment as her duty to the family and said nothing about it.

Thea turned to her children, still milling about in the living room as Rudy stood beside her, “you all get on outside,” she ordered, “I want to have a talk with Rudy.”

“But Mama,” Enid whined, “it’s hot.”

Thea stared hard at the children, her plump brown face set in that way that let them know she meant business, “then go swimming, but scoot, I’ll not tell you a second time.”

The kids scrambled out the door as their mother told them and Thea turned to her eldest son, “let’s see this, then.” She knew what was inside. She gingerly opened the envelope and read it as tear began to stream down her son’s face again.

Rudy buried his face in her ample bosom, sobbing, “I’m sorry Mama, I’m sorry!”

She cradled the child gently then took his face in her hands, wiping his tears, “it’s okay, Rudy, I knew it was coming, you’ll just try harder next year.” She didn’t know why, but she had known for some time that her eldest son struggled with schoolwork.

Rudy snuffed the snot back from his nose and stood straight, “I’m not going back, ma’am,” he declared, “I’m going to work.”

Thea looked at the child in disbelief, “you’re 11, what do you think you’ll work at?”

“I’ll be 12 come January,” he explained, “I’ll do just like Daddy, I’ll join the army, fight in the war, just like him!”

Fear welled up in his mother. Thea knew well what war did to her husband and she also knew her son was just impulsive enough to try such a thing, although she also knew he had no chance, even at 12, looking young for his age, of being accepted into any army, it was time for a strong message. She softly slapped his face with the back of her hand, “you will do no such thing!” she exclaimed, “and I’ll hear no more talk of any army, do you understand?”

Rudy began to cry again, the slap didn’t hurt physically, she barely touched him. But his pride hurt desperately. ��He nodded in submission, “yes, Mama, I understand.” Then he added, “but I could continue for a while at Mrs. Winlock’s till after apple season, that’ll take me into October, then I can go work in the woods.” He had it all figured out in his mind and in his young mind, it seemed to be the only reasonable choice.

Thea softened, “Go on outside and play,” she told him, “I know you’re disappointed, we’ll talk about this nearer the school year, okay?” She had no intention of allowing him to quit school.

Rudy agreed, quietly set in his intention never to return to the classroom.

The summer went quickly and soon it was time to get ready to return to school. Thea and Reuben took their eldest son aside to see how he was feeling about repeating fifth grade.

Rudy stood straight and tall, as tall as an 11-year-old could and informed his parents of his intentions, “I’m not going.”

Thea, now confirmed to be expecting, yet again, shook her head, “Reuben, don’t start,” she warned.

The child continued, steel-faced in his opposition, “no, Mama, I’m not going back,” he explained, “Mrs. Winlock says I can stay on ‘till at least October, then I got some work with old man Hawthorne lined up, and I also got a bit over at the general store, only a few hours here and there, but it’ll do us.”

Thea’s heart sank, “Rudy, you’re a boy, you need your schooling.” She was devastated, it was hard enough in 1941 to be a black man, but to be a black man with next to no education, the thought terrified her. She always wanted better for her kids. She wanted them to achieve, to have the opportunities she and their father never had, to be seen as they were, equal members of the human race.

Reuben Senior spoke up, “woman,” he said, “we both know the boy ain’t much for the books,” he took a big gulp from his mug, “if he don’t wanna go, maybe we shouldn’t make him.” Another gulp and he turned to his son and poked him hard in the chest, “but if you ain’t in no kinda school,” he warned, “you’re payin’ room and board!”

The boy agreed, “of course Daddy,” he said breathlessly, “Mama can have all the money, just like always.” He always turned over his entire weekly earnings to his mother for household expenses, often refusing her pleas that he take something, even a quarter for himself. He added, expanding in his long-term plan, “anyway, it’s only ‘till I can get into the army and go into the war like you did, Daddy.”

His father panicked in his whiskey fueled haze as memories of World War 1 trenches came flooding back faster than he could process them. The gun fire, the filth, the rain and mud, the slop they passed off as food, and to top it off, the way black solders like him were treated like simple cannon fodder, pushed out to the front lines, never recognized for anything more than boots on the ground, it was all more than he could bear. He didn’t want his son going through that. Rage filled him, rage at every white superior that called him boy. Rage at every German that shot in his direction. Rage at the impetuous, unwitting brat in front of him who had no real idea about the harsh realities of the world. Before he knew it, his hand was up and he smacked the boy, hard, across the face, knocking him across the room and onto his ass, screaming, “shut up, boy, shut up!”

Thea jumped between them, begging her husband to stop.

Enraged and seeing nothing but the life his son would have if he chose the military, he shoved his wife out of the way, sending her into the stove.

Young Rudy rose to his feet staring his father in the face for the first time in his life, cocked back his fist and punched his father in the jaw with all his might. It was enough to send the man, now in his early forties and suffering more and more from his war wounds, not to mention the whiskey, stumbling. “Never hit Mama again,” Rudy screamed, “never, or I will knock you out!”

Thea took a seat, trying not to cry in front of her son. Reuben Senior composed himself and looked at his son with a hard, critical eye. He both loved and hated the child now. He loved his resolve and strength. He hated his resolve and strength. He mostly hated that the boy had shown him up.

Rudy knew nothing would ever be the same. He knew he couldn’t strike his father and expect to live in his home. He looked at him and said in an apologetic tone, “Daddy, if I can collect my things, I think it’s best I go to Grannie’s.”

Thea protested, but her husband overruled her, agreeing with his son. The house was crowded as it was, and it gave him a quick opportunity to save at least a little dignity. He agreed with the boy and said sharply, “you got 10 minutes and then I’ll kick you out by the ass!”

#short story #story time #writing #memories #dad #miss my dad

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houkagokappa · 4 years

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Favourite anime of the decade

Although I only began watching anime in 2013 and thus didn’t think I could make a post like this, I started to think about which shows I would pick if I would make it, and before I knew it I had it composed. I chose the anime that meant the most to me and I feel a strong connection to, not necessarily the ones I think were the best of each year (though in a way they are the same).

The anime for 2010-2012 are series I watched after they originally aired and the anime I picked for 2013-2019 are all series I watched as they aired.

Under the cut because this is super long and incredibly self-indulgent. You’ve been warned.

2010 - Katanagatari

What better way is there to start this list than with Katanagatari, an epic that took the entire year to air.

I watched Katanagatari with my university’s anime association in 2014-2015. I didn’t know anything about it beforehand, which is why I like attending our anime meetings. They’ve introduced me to a lot of great anime I otherwise never would’ve watched (or in this case wouldn’t have discovered until much later).

I love the colourful world and the interesting characters, the banter and all the twists. The ending to Katanagatari is one of the best endings to any anime ever. It’s a great story with a good structure and an amazing conclusion. Nanami is the best girl and we need to treasure her. That’s all.

2011 - Mawaru Penguindrum

What better way is there to continue this list, than with my favourite anime ever?

After watching and falling in love with Utena, I had Penguindrum on my radar, but I didn’t feel rushed to watch it anytime soon. Then one day, about half a year later I saw a gif of Ringo with the burning diary on my dash, which looked super cool and I took it as a sign to finally start the series.

I watched all of Penguindrum over a long weekend in November 2014 at my parents place. I remember being sick, just as I had been when I first watched Utena, which is a weird coincidence and possibly something needed for additional effect. I saw half of it on my laptop in my bed and half of it on our TV in the living room, which I regret, because turns out it’s not the kind of show you want your parents to get glimpses of. I still remember the fear I felt when episode 14 rolled around and my dad was sitting with his back to the TV and I PRAYED that he wouldn’t turn around to question me or why I was watching some animated lesbian bondage infused attempted rape scene... I also don’t know why I thought Penguindrum wouldn’t throw something like that at me, I had seen the previous 13 episodes...

Anyway, that’s my favourite anime of all time, ever. I love all of its themes to death, and it’s such a beautiful and emotional series. I think the first episode is one of the best first episodes of any anime ever and I love how the ending ties back to the very first scene.

I could write an entire essay on why I love Penguindrum and why it’s the best series ever (well, competing with Utena for that title), but I think anyone reading this already knows why, so I’ll leave you with the funny anecdote above instead. And if you haven’t seen Penguindrum yet do yourself a favor and go watch it NOW. This is the Ringo gif for you!

2012 - Nisemonogatari

I love the Monogatari series. I love the unique animation and visual style, the amazing characters and the fun dialogues. I also really love Nisemonogatari in particular and I’m sad how it’s often dismissed for being the least interesting season or for being nothing but fanservice. I watch Monogatari specifically for the dialogue (and visuals). I don’t care about the plot as much as I care about the character interactions and Nisemonogatari delivers with those. More specifically I appreciate how well it divides the time spent with each girl. Later on in the series there are long breaks where some of the characters don’t appear at all and I end up missing them, but with Nisemonogatari we get a little bit of everyone (of those who have appeared so far). Of course it’s also great how Nisemonogatari introduces us to some new characters and upcoming plot points and contains a lot of cool foreshadowing, but that’s beside the point. All I want is the dialogue. I don’t even care what they’re talking about, Monogatari manages to make anything interesting.

I watched all of Monogatari during my spring break (lol) in 2015. I also watched it at my parents place, on the TV in our living room, which was great because Monogatari deserves a bigger screen. This time around I was older and wiser and didn’t have my parents around. It was just me and my sister and although Bakemonogatari impressed me so much I tried to make her interested in it, I wasn’t successful with that so I got to watch it in peace (peace). (In hindsight, with consideration for what was to come, that was probably for the best).

As another fun fact I should add that although I was super impressed with Monogatari, I didn’t consider myself a die-hard fan until a year or so later. I was happy to watch Owarimonogatari in the fall, and glad to see the announcement for the Kizumonogatari movies that came after it, but I wasn’t over the moon thrilled about it until I actually watched the first movie. It had to grow on me a little bit, which isn’t unusual when it comes to my favourites. I loved Utena the first time I saw it, but it took months for my obsession to build and grow and fully develop. Maybe because they’re both shows that leave the viewer with a lot to think about, so you only realise their full brilliance later on?

2013 - Kill la Kill

I began watching anime in the spring of 2013, when Shingeki no Kyojin, Free! and Dangan Ronpa began airing, because Homestuck went on a hiatus and that’s what the content on my dash changed into. I also began attending conventions and in January 2014 I went to Yukicon. At the con I ran into an acquaintance of mine and joined her gang, who decided to go and listen to a panel called “Kill la Kill - is this how Trigger saved anime?”. I would never had gone there on my own, since I wasn’t watching Kill la Kill or interested in starting it, but I’m glad I did because that was my first proper introduction to Kill la Kill and what ultimately sparked my interest for it.

When I tried the first episode I didn’t like it a whole lot. I hated the style, it was so sketchy and ugly and the fanservice made me uncomfortable. However, the first episode was really good at setting up the story and I was curious to see how it would continue so I kept watching. I didn’t love the following episodes either, but there was something that compelled me to keep watching and 4 or 5 episodes in I began liking it once the story and Ryuko’s personality had managed to fully suck me in. I binged the first half until I was caught up with the airing episodes and then I had fun waiting for the new episodes each week. I don’t remember much more about my initial reactions, but because it’s one of the first anime I ever saw and one of the first airing anime I ever followed it’ll always have a special place in my heart.

I’ve since rewatched Kill la Kill multiple times and it still holds up. I love the crazy energy, all the different personalities and characters and the amazing twists. I also grew to love the style, it’s very distinct and now that I’ve seen more anime I appreciate it all the more.

Having loved Kill la Kill and hearing so much about Trigger, I started to follow them and make sure to watch everything else they would put out. I like to think that we both started out at the same time, because this was their first anime as a new studio and one of the first anime I followed. Trigger has a special place in my heart as much as Kill la Kill does.

2014 - Selector Infected WIXOSS

Battoru battoru!

Selector Infected WIXOSS is probably the least known anime on this list. I was introduced to it by a friend who at the time watched everything that aired. She sold it to me as a Madoka-ripoff (knowing I was a huge fan), which it kinda is, but also not at all and people should stop using that phrase. It’s about girls who make wishes and suffer, but that’s where the similarities end. It’s also very much what I’m into, I love a good show with dark and somewhat taboo topics, lesbian undertones and all that jazz. It got a second season which concludes the story, but any continuation past that is not worth anyone’s time.

It was written by Mari Okada and made to sell cards. I own a set and I’m still waiting for the day when I get to play with them.

2015 - Hibike! Euphonium

Hibike! Euphonium is another anime that I watched and liked, then loved, then became absolutely obsessed over long after it had already ended. I picked it up only because it was a music anime and I had just finished Shigatsu wa Kimi no Uso and was in the mood for another similar show. (I also picked up ShigaUso on a whim, because someone I followed on tumblr was hyping it up as a music lover). I’m not a musician, but I loved the series regardless and ended up relating to Kumiko and her struggles like I’ve never related to anyone before (even though the specifics of our struggles are somewhat different). Hibike! Euphonium is one of the first pieces of media that made me cry, not over a sad scene, but over a emotionally charged one when Kumiko realises she wants to succeed, she wants to win and get better and put her whole heart into her playing. (I vividly remember telling my friend about how an anime made me cry and being super embarrassed to reveal which one, because it was so new and personal to me).

Hibike! Euphonium is a beautifully made, incredibly touching anime. It’s done with so much care and so much love. I also have a lot of precious memories attached to it; I went to Kyoto for a student exchange and took the opportunity to spend an entire day in Uji, where Hibike! Euphonium takes place. I visited most of the locations seen in the anime, cried about how ridiculously realistic everything is, sat on Kumiko’s bench by the river, randomly met up with some Japanese fans and ended the day on top of Mt. Daikichi, as seen in episode 8. It was one of the best days in my life!

2016 - Doukyuusei

I was introduced to Doukyuusei through the Penguindrum tag on tumblr. Either tumblr was broken (very likely) or someone was spamming it (also very likely), but there were a couple of posts promoting Doukyuusei that showed up in the tag CONSTANTLY. They weren’t terribly out of place because the director of Doukyuusei (Nakamura Shouko) was previously known for her work on Penguindrum, but I should add that there were so many of those posts, actual Penguindrum posts (which there weren’t many of to begin with) disappeared among them, which made me quite annoyed with Doukyuusei.

Then the trailer came out and I watched it and it seemed pretty cool. I think I even glanced at the manga, but I didn’t think much of it. Then the anime came out and everyone was sharing gifs from it and they looked so good I watched the movie as soon as I could. Even though the quality of the first stream I found wasn’t great I loved it and watched it again as soon as I finished it the first time, and then again the next day when a better stream came out.

By reblogging Doukyuusei a mutual started talking about it with me and our conversation made me pick up the manga again, mainly since I found out that there’s a continuation to the story. Now that I properly read it I really fell in love with it and Nakamura Asumiko’s artstyle. I also find it funny how when I looked her up in order to find out about her other works, I realised I had looked her up before thanks to her joint project with Ikuhara. Back then I wasn’t in the mood to read Nokemono to Hanayome and I didn’t care for “some BL mangaka” to continue checking her out, but now that I’d found her again it all came back to me. I think it’s really neat and funny how I’ve been introduced to her through Ikuhara several times over!

Back to Doukyuusei, I love it a lot because it’s a very sweet and simple story. It feels realistic. I like the flow of time, or rather how it skips forward a lot and we only get small glimpses of the more important moments in their relationship, along with some of the small cute ones. It’s not an amazingly unique story, but it feels very refreshing, maybe because of how basic it is. I’m not sure how to best describe it, but at the end of the day it’s a very wholesome story about two boys who fall in love and there aren’t that many of those, especially not any that have gotten anime adaptations.

It’s quite short for a movie, which makes it very easy to watch. I’ve lost count how many times I’ve seen it. During my exchange, I spent 10 days in Tokyo at an Airbnb that asked me not to stream anything, so in order to have something to do in the evenings I downloaded Doukyuusei and watched it every other night. I also used to watch it at least every month for more than a year and as a general pick-me-up whenever I was feeling down. I know the entire movie by heart by now.

2017 - Owarimonogatari 2nd season

I already shared how I got into Monogatari and why I love it so much. Yet, or precisely therefore it shows up on this list again (though all things considered it should be a bonus instead of an entry). The second season to Owarimonogatari is an amazing conclusion to an amazing series (not that it’s the conclusion at all). Hachikuji is my favourite character so it was great to see her again after so long (see my comments about Nisemonogatari) and I’m still crying over the brilliance of her kamimashita gag. It was also very rewarding to get an end to the mystery that was Ougi.

The anime came out while I was on a field course in Tvärminne. I remember it well, because I had the luxury of having a room to myself and an entire afternoon to chill there. I began watching it and had a really good time doing so until a classmate of mine came knocking on my door, asking me to join him in some game and I had to choose between being social or watching the long awaited new season of Monogatari. It was a tough choice to leave Hachikuji behind (I’M SO SORRY), but I ditched her and joined them. After that I didn’t have enough time to finish the series, until it was time for us to leave. I couldn’t get a car ride all the way to Helsinki, but I managed to get one to the Inkoo library and my dad to pick me up from there maybe an hour or two later which was the perfect time and perfect place to continue watching Monogatari. I really haven’t learned anything when it comes to watching possibly questionable anime with other people around. Luckily no one lives in Inkoo, so I got to watch it entirely undisturbed. Good memories indeed.

2017 BONUS - Eromanga-sensei

Look. I couldn’t honestly write this list without including Eromanga-Sensei. I unironically like the series. It began when I read the LN just to pass the time and have something to laugh at. Then the anime got announced and I knew I’d watch it, but I wasn’t really into it yet (the LN’s aren’t that good). Then they made a figure of Sagiri and I got it because I really love her design and then I started to look forward to the anime more, because I began having certain expectations for it and suddenly I’m here blogging about my first impressions of it (which are now lost forever, yay!).

I actually find the story to be quite touching and I got emotional watching the anime. Sagiri and Masamune have lost and gained their families multiple times over and now with all their parents dead it’s just the two of them left, both desperate and scared and unsure, wanting to find and create a new family and sense of belonging for themselves. It’s also a really well-made series, all the production values are top notch, the animation is fluid, the music is nice and the voice acting is great. It’s pretty funny and although none of the characters are particularly likeable, it’s an enjoyable series to watch. You can’t take it too seriously though. I had a really fun time with it, mostly because I made myself have a good time with it. I didn’t care about any of the memes and I got made fun of by all my friends, but that’s what I mostly remember 2017 anime for. I can’t wait for the second season, which we will inevitable get!!

2018 - 3-gatsu no Lion 2nd Season

3-gatsu no Lion is another anime that grew on me over time. I had difficulties watching and finishing both seasons, because at times it’s a really slow series, but I still consider it one of my favourites and one of the best series ever made. The second season was even better than the first and I sincerely hope we’ll get a third, and a fourth and a fifth or however many are required to finish the entire story.

Shaft has again done an incredible job with the visuals. I love the entire production, the music and voice acting and the overall feeling. The bullying arc was amazing, super emotional and raw and I love how it dealt with the aftermath and how there wasn’t a simple solution and how everything didn’t get fixed overnight, because that’s not how it works in real life. I love how Rei got a lot of personal growth. I love seeing him starting to rely on others more and become more comfortable with himself and what he likes and wants. It’s incredible how all the characters are multifaceted and how 3-gatsu makes me care for them (I’m cheering on you, pidgeon-man!). The Kawamoto family emits so much warm and positive energy I can’t help but cry everytime I see them. In fact, I used to prepare for each episode by making myself a nice, often Japanese styled meal, since there’s such a huge focus on delicious looking food in the anime I would always get hungry watching it, and a packet of tissues because I would cry every. single. week. It was ridiculous.

It’s not an easy series to get into, but probably the only series I feel the need to recommend to everyone I meet, just because it really is an amazing series that explores the human psyche and an incredibly rewarding watch once you get into it.

2019 - Sarazanmai

Do I even need to write something here? Anime of the decade, no question about it.

There’s something really special in being able to follow an anime project you’re passionate about right from the start and I’m glad I got to do it with an Ikuhara project, because his anime is on a whole other level and speaks to me in ways no other media does. This was also the first time I took on such an active role in the fandom, which has been incredibly fun, but a bit taxing as well. However, if there is an anime that gets better once you share your thoughts on it with others each week, it’s Ikuhara’s.

Sarazanmai ended up being what I expected and nothing like it. I don’t know how, but it managed to exceed my expectations, even though they were skyhigh and I was worried about getting let down, especially since Yurikuma Arashi didn’t live up to my expectations for it. Sarazanmai however, was everything I wanted and more.

I love the story and themes, I love the characters, I love how there was so much going on, but they managed to make it work and have a satisfying ending. The musical numbers were insanely good and I love all the crazy shirikodama shenanigans. Watching Sarazanmai is like being on an emotional rollercoaster, with just the right amount of everything. I can’t wait to see what Ikuhara comes up with in the next decade!!

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If you’ve read this far, thank you for your time. I hope you enjoyed this and I applaud you for getting through all of it. If you feel like it, please share your picks with me, I’m curious to see what they are!

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kinktae · 4 years

Note

hi babe !!! i’m starting on my journey through the whole bitchin’ series today !!! and i just wanted to say that it really reminds me of that 70’s show (even if i know urs is set in the 80’s lmao) !!! and i want to congratulate u on the job well done !!!

All the bitchin’ asks I didn’t get to answer in time uwu. Spoilers ahead:

prince-jjk said: just read your beyond the story for bitchin’ and i literally cried twice 🥺 especially in the 10yrs later when, for the wedding gift, jk gives y/n the contract they wrote all the way back when they barely knew eachother, that part just made me be like skfkskckskfkd on the inside, that was adorable.

Anonymous said: bitchin is so soft 🥺 it was love at first chapter for me, i loved watching y/n and jk grow throughout the story both together and on their own and i love all the soft lil moments and reading every chapter warmed my heart so damn much 🥺 thank you 💕

Anonymous said: okay so i finally read bitchin’ all in one day and 🥺🥺🥺🥺 they are both idiots i love them sm,, thank u for writing such an incredible story!!💕💗💕💘💗

Anonymous said: MISS ROSE?!?!?!?! BITCHIN' IS BACK AND WITH YOUR BEHIND THE SCENES COMMENTARY?!?! I'VE NEVER BEEN MORE EXCITED MA'AM!! AND WELCOME BACK QUEEN WE'VE MISSED YOU AND THESE LOVABLE DORKS!!!!💛💓💙💕💜💖💚💞❤💘💗

Anonymous said: I LOVED WHAT YOU POSTED FOR BITCHIN OMGGG i actually LOVE seeing behind the scenes of writing so i really enjoyed reading about the details of bitchin. nOT TO MENTION HOW CUTE THE EPILOGUE WAS PLEASE I DONT THINK ILL EVER GET OVER THEM but overall i really liked it and thank you so so so so so so so much for this

Anonymous said: i swear Yara and Taehyung do be the cutest couple :(

beifong-bitch said: So im new around here and just started reading bitchin and oh god- I KEEP IMAGINING TAES VOICE SOUNDING LIKE THAT ONE SURFER DUDE FROM TOTAL DRAMA.

Anonymous said: beyond the story: bitchin’ got me so emotional like??? i think i can’t live without them:( thank you for this beautiful story🤧 you’re so talented

sapphireprinces5 said: can I just say that the fact you called it Behind The Story as BTS is so genius and the best chef’s kiss of the century. reading this made me tear up like I miss the two so much and to see them happy forever was just 🤧 it was so cool to see how the stories developed and your thoughts as you wrote them. thank you for giving this to us - probably one of the best gifts i’ve ever received as a reader. amazing, you’re amazing

mochiieberry said: JUST READ THE UPDATE FOR BITCHIN AND FINALLY I CAN START MY DAY(ignore the fact it’s 3 am :) ). But honestly after reading BITCHIN I questioned what happened afterwards and thank you for writing the behind the scenes and giving us 10 year update!!

ggukcangetit said: oh my gosh i was missing bitchin' and you posted the most incredible companion piece. also love how its called beyond the story (BTS) so sneaky rose (¬‿¬) you really spoilt us with the connect i am sad and happy so thanks for that. lastly, just wanna appreciate how much effort, hard work, and care you devote to your stories, characters, and readers. since you are a LOT younger than me imma go ahead and say this- uWu rose is the best liddol bean in the world. okay bye.

Anonymous said: I just wanted to say thank you for the extra bitchin' content! It's one of my favorite fics ever (mainly bc I am a woman in stem who takes shit from no man and I hardcore identify with yn) and to see how much you love the fic and genuinely get excited about the little details you slip in to make it more enjoyable for you to write just makes my heart !!! bc i love nothing more than hearing writers talk about their works with pride. love you lots and thank you for always putting out great content!

Anonymous said: Yara refusing to put a label on her relationship after 10 years sends me. For one thing, as an independent woman who is terrified of commitment, I can 100% relate lol. The titles she gives him instead killed me as well. Her outrage at the crustaceans was also so something I’d do. Like “no ma’am my best friend ain’t sign up for this and as far as I’m concerned she’s gonna get exactly what she wants”. Yara is my spirit animal.

Anonymous said: I have a lot of questions. #1- How dare you? Bitch I am sobbing. I love those Bitchin fools and I ain’t ever gonna stop loving them!

lee-u-ne12 said: I may have giggled one too many times during my "beyond the story: bitchin'" reading. Dammit it's just so cute! I found it charming how instead of just giving us an update on the characters you included some commentery on each chapter! Ngl i was rlly sad earlier but this made me smile :)

Anonymous said: I definitely noticed the sock thing and thought it was stupidly cute (like this entire fic tbh) and djjdjdjdjjd I wish I had commented on it when I first read it! I loved the behind the stuff and loved all the reasoning as to why you didn't want y/n to be a 'popular guy gave me confidence' type of character 👏 honestly loved it all thank you!!!!

Anonymous said: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR WRITING BITCHIN’!! ITS A WORK OF ART AND SO AMAZING QND I LOVE U SO MUCH MISS ROSE 😭😭😭💕💓💖💕💗💞❣️💖💝

Anonymous said: AHAHJAJAJAJJA THIS MADE ME SOOOOO HAPPY AND I HAVEN’T FELT THIS HAPPY AND SAPPY IN SUCJ A LONG TIMEEE!! i absolutely LOVE LOVE LOVE READING THE BACKSTORY AND BEHIND THE SCENES OF WRITING THIS FIC AND THE 10 YEARS LATER AND WEDDING MADE ME SO FUCKING HAPPY AHAHAHJAHA I ALSO LOVE TAE AND YARA SO MUCH AND I LOVE THAT THEYRE SO HAPPY BRO AND LIKE THEY DIDN’T NEED A LABEL LIKE yES PERIODT!UGHUGHYGHI I LOVE YOU SO MCUH MISS ROSE AJHSJS I HAVE SO MUCG LOVE FOR YOUU 😭😭😭💖💓💕

Anonymous said: ROSE YOU SON OF A BITCH I LOVE YOU

cheeky-kookie said: ROSE, I am so happy this is the best birthday present wowza ily thank you bitchin' update I cry

Anonymous said: oh my gosh yara and tae are gonna get married someday and she's still gonna be like what? husband? you meaN my matChing riGg wEareR.

Anonymous said: Just wanted to let you know, I just read BITCHIN' AND IT'S THE BEST STORY I'VE READ IN A WHILE AND NOW ONE OF MY ALL TIME FAVORITES. I would totally read it again in the future . Thank you for writing it and sharing it with us and you're awesome!

Anonymous said: Bitchin' was amazing. I cried. Thank you for writing it 🖤

Anonymous said: I think I've read bitchin like 3 times now but in never fails to put a smile on my face. The 80s slang kills me every time. Just wanted to say it's one of my favourite fics I've ever read :)

Anonymous said: i just finished bitchin’ AND IT WAS SO GOOD i cried at the end when it came full circle about the paper 😭❤️

Anonymous said: Hi I just binge read bitchin I’ve always ran into it but I hesitate Bc I knew it wasn’t completed I’m the worst but,,, ow. Ow. My heart physically melted you developed two characters so well and there’s no way I’m not going to reread again and again because of how good and genuine their relationship was. Uhh that’s it sorry I just wanted to let you know I’ll need money Bc my heart is unfunctional because of how full it is

Anonymous said: i just wanted to tell you that you made me feel so 🥺🥺🥺🥺!!!! with bitchin', that it is one of my favorite stories ever and that it's just so amazing and well written i just- don't stop doing what you're doing please !!!!!

Anonymous said: hi sorry this is random but im a huge fan of your work! i havent checked in with tumblr too much lately but last night i binge read camellia, groovy, and bitchin and oh my goodness i was so enthralled !! you have such a wonderful ability to engage readers with such relatable and dynamic characters! like wowowow i cant wait to read more of your writing! thanks so much for putting in the time and effort you do to create your work, its great and im glad you get to share it with the world! 🌟

Anonymous said: hi so i may or may not have read all of bitchin in one night BUT I LOVED IT AND IM AMAZED BY YOU 🥺♥️

Anonymous said: hiii! bitchin’ has been the best thing i have ever read and im so sad that its over, but im so happy you wrote it! u are an incredible writer❤️❤️❤️

emdancing said: Hi! I’d just like to say I binged bitchin and i absolutely loved it! It just might be my favorite koo fic 💕 your writing is awesome and so are you!!

Anonymous said: i binge read bitchin this weekend and i don’t even like fanfics but kept seeing it get recommended so decided to check it out and i loved it 😭 jungkook in that fic is so perfect and cute (except for his mess up with kiri) and that note at the end got me emotional 🥺 your story and writing was too too good, i skipped all the smut but still loved it 💗 thank you for sharing one of the most heartwarming and lovely stories i have ever read! 🤧

lowlifeoeuvre said: Hi i just read bitchin and i only have one thing to say about it... A WHOLE MASTERPIECE MAN!! literally almost cried and actually made a very inhuman happy noise at the end. I will for sure be reading anything else you write or have written.

babeewiththepowerr said: I just finished reading Bitchin and now I’m crying 😢 it was soooo pretty and well written 💜

#ask

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starlight-ascension · 4 years

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1 point for everything you’ve done, comment your score

Inspired by BuzzFeed checklist quizzes.

❃ cancelled plans in order to watch precure

❃ binge-watched an entire season in under a week

❃ watched precure on your phone

❃ ...at school or work

❃ watched more precure than any other show

❃ memorized exactly which episodes of your fave season have which events, so now when someone mentions a specific episode you don’t need to look it up to tell them everything that happens in it

❃ fired up the anime website and ended up watching way more episodes of precure than you planned to

❃ got into the fandom in the mid to late 2010s, watched episodes of precure you hadn’t seen yet almost every day, and now you are no longer able to watch shows with a weekly gap between episodes

❃ felt a stab of pain like you were being betrayed when the anime website froze or stuttered

❃ finished a season and went through the five stages of grief

❃ watched all of Futari Wa Pretty Cure Max Heart

❃ watched all of Yes Pretty Cure 5 GoGo

❃ watched all of Fresh Pretty Cure

❃ watched all of Suite PreCure

❃ watched all of DokiDoki PreCure

❃ watched all of Happiness Charge PreCure

❃ watched all of MahouTsukai PreCure

❃ watched all of KiraKira PreCure A La Mode

❃ watched every All Stars New Stage movie

❃ wouldn’t shut up to friends about how awesome precure is

❃ watched precure at least a couple times a week

❃ watched precure every day over the course of a month

❃ felt empty inside when you didn’t have access to an anime website with precure

❃ overused your internet allowance by watching precure

❃ watched precure while on the toilet

❃ desperately waited for the next episode of whatever season was airing

❃ caught a glimpse of your reflection in the screen and wondered “what the hell am i doing with my life”

❃ defended precure’s honor in a verbal fight

❃ defended precure’s honor in a physical fight

❃ challenged someone to a duel for dissing precure

❃ completely lost track of all sense of time while watching precure

❃ imagined a life without precure and cried

❃ measured time in episodes

❃ found yourself unable to last a weekend without watching at least one episode

❃ also found yourself unable to watch just ONE episode at a time

❃ been late to something because you were watching precure

❃ stayed up past midnight watching precure

❃ marked the date for the release of an episode on your calendar

❃ quoted precure characters in everyday conversation

❃ ...when talking to someone who hasn’t seen precure

❃ dressed up as a precure

❃ convinced someone to watch precure

❃ actually watched Glitter Force and/or the Futari Wa Pretty Cure dub

❃ left your house when the wifi was down so you could watch precure somewhere else

❃ annoyed your friends by talking about precure all the time

❃ written about precure for school

❃ are fictionkin with a precure

❃ screamed out loud when the anime website repeatedly stopped to buffer

❃ spent an entire day just binge-watching precure

❃ spent an entire weekend just binge-watching precure

❃ watched something in english and instinctively looked at the bottom where the subtitles would normally be

❃ tried to sing along to the opening theme song despite not knowing enough Japanese to do so

#precure #pretty cure #shitpost #i will delete this later

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lokis-lady-death · 5 years

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Stark Tower Layout

Lady Death: This is a little snippet I did which originally began as a reference for some future snippets I’ve been working on for a Loki x Reader (Ice Mutant).

If you’re interested in a story this is based on: Click Here and read the first installment.

It’s been months since Thanos’s defeat and Tony Stark has built a second Stark Tower for the Avengers in Brazil, deep in the forest. It’s built similarly to the tower in New York, but has less of a skyscraper feel. The outside is coated in a reflective material manufactured similarly to the camouflage used to hide the kingdom of Wakanda and was specially developed with Shuri’s help. This feature, however, is only to keep it from being seen from above by satellites as the facility itself is not in a secret location.

1st Floor: The Entrance

As anyone could expect, the entrance to Stark Tower is incredible and, simply put, extraordinary. Entering the main floor, the first thing visitors see is an arc reactor the size of a car along with words illuminating across the top in bright fluorescent “Avengers Assemble”. Tony said it was cheesy but it puts a smile on Steve's face every time he sees it. Elegant glass staircases on either side of the arc reactor lead up to the second story. It is all completely open and bright with massive windows that let in the brilliant sun rays, even showing a beautiful sky when it was taking thanks to specially manufactured glass invented by Shuri.

2nd Floor: Tourist Center

Stark had specifically chosen to create a tourist center in the lowest levels of his complex for the simple reason that he knew the Avengers needed to maintain face (and Pepper insisted it was a good idea to keep up appearances without holding press conferences on the regular basis). They were icons, symbols, and most of all heros. All profits made go towards hundreds of different charities around the world, usually those pertaining to Avenger related missions. Once of the most popular destinations at Stark Tower for visitors is the world renowned gift shop that houses random images taken of the Avengers with unrelated daily quotes they have made. The most notable include: Black Widow “I can’t, I’m afraid of spiders”, Captain America “You can’t do the fondue unless you have protection”, Spiderman “Oh, geeze guys, I don’t know”, Ironman “ Excelsior “

3rd Floor: Accounting Department

Because a building this large, this full, and this advanced requires money. It is nearly entirely made up of Tony's own pocket change, but sometimes a grateful nation or wealthy family the Avengers saved will make a donation to housing (but that secretly gets donated back to the community around the Stark facility, such as orphanages and hospitals).

4th Floor: Loading Dock and Med Bay

This is the floor where most of the Avengers tech is kept (beside things that are personal such as Sam's wings). It also houses a well stocked armory that contains anything as weak as bean bag shotgun shells (used for low level crooks) to much more lethal high caliber assault rifles (for more complicated cases). Any weapon repair would happen here, as well as any medical treatment that the Avengers could need. It can be used in emergency cases for the rest of the workers at the tower but so far that has not been necessary.

5th Floor: Training Rooms

This floor contains a fully loaded gym, a jacuzzi tub, steam room, and stall showers that are accessible to everyone at the tower. There were however, rooms separated for special training that was only used by the Avengers that included a holographic simulator that, while not as physical as the microbots, could use a projection on an android dummy, perfect for one on one training when you don't have a partner. As a joke, Tony had programmed the only reflection the dummy was capable of to be Secretary of state Thaddeus Ross. As an extra joke, someone (no one knows who but suspects Bruce) reprogrammed the boys to instead show Tony, repeating sarcastic comments and rolling his eyes. Steve said he had never had such a great workout partner.

6th Floor: The Simulator

The simulator, which takes up the entire sixth floor, requires special access passes not every Avenger has. This floor is most notably used for team training and uses microbots to create simulations of different villains and scenarios. Only Bruce or Tony themselves are capable to turning on the simulator because of its complexities. This rule came after a near disastrous event with Sam nearly creating a lethal replica of Thanos in with the Simulated Microbots, an event Steve brings up regularly. “You’re just mad cause the giant eggplant kicked your ass. Again,” Sam would snapback.

7th Floor: Avenger Academy(because Tony couldn’t think of a better thing to call it)

The classrooms are more technical than academic, but make for a good show for when Aunt May allows Peter to come stay at the tower. It has several computers set up for any of the Avengers team or Stark Tower’s employee to use. There is also a small library tucked away, because while Tony insisted everything be electronic, Pepper thought some of the tower inhabitants could use the nostalgia of a good hardback book.

8th Floor: Individual apartments (Dubbed the Geriatric Floor) Bucky, Steve

Because, let's face it, they're lost without each other so of course they're on the same floor. They insisted on having the lowest level apartments in the complex so “If someone attacks” they would be the first defense. Their apartments are very similar in style, with simple amenities, painted in patriotic colors, and decorated with several old pictures and framed special news articles the old school men enjoyed. Even the electronics in their apartments are simplified, with Friday always there to help the boys with any questions they had for new age tech.

9th Floor: Individual apartments (Dubbed the Experiments-gone-wrong Floor) Wanda and Vision, Bruce

Wanda and Vision were apprehensive about moving into the tower at first, but once they officially had their apartment set up, they couldn't imagine calling anywhere else “Home”. Vision especially enjoys Bruce being across the hall whenever he is in the mood for discussions, usually ending with some bizarre, other world innovative ideas that they would run by Tony when he comes by the tower. Wanda has come up to join young and Nat in your late night lounging.

10th Floor: Individual apartments(Dubbed the Deadly Women Floor) Reader, Natasha

You weren't sure what living on the same floor with Black Widow would be like, but it turned out the two of you made fast friends. It was nothing for you to go over to her apartment in the late hours of the night to enjoy some wine and girl talk, or for her to come by so you could both binge watch murder mystery shows, almost always challenging each other to guess the murderer by the end of the shows. The two of you go on a girls’ nights out with Wanda and Pepper every other weekend, usually spending your time comparing the men you had to put up with on a regular basis. Everyone agrees Pepper is a saint for dealing with Tony. On rare occasions, Gamora and Shuri join you, but those stories never get shared with the rest of the team. There is a rumor, while out enjoying one of these legendary evenings, your small group overthrew an evil dictator and liberated a country in the throws of civil war, but that never made the news so no one could confirm it. Viva la revolution.

11th Floor: Guest rooms: It is strategically located in the middle of the avengers team so they are secured at all times.

Most often used for Clint and his family during family friendly events such as Christmas and Thanksgiving. Everyone, including Scott and his daughter,come every New Year to watch Stark light up the sky with his endless supply of iron suits. Dr. Strange has also stayed, but only after a party since he is usually plastered and goes around asking guests if they would like to watch him conjure a demon. So far the answer has been no but Clint's kids have asked him to pull a rabbit out of his hat. He normally goes to bed after the jokes are made. The Guardians have stayed once after a party, but no one is allowed to talk about that night. Ever. T'challa and Shuri come to every single party and even the tower has, but it always ends the same way: the brother and sister in a head to head match on one of the many competitive games in Sam's apartment. And every single time, Shuri wins at the last second. Peter Parker comes during family events with his Aunt May, but has been known to sneak into the tower during the more adult parties. He has even started a tradition of “Movie Night” where they set up a projector screen on the balcony and play movies (usually big name classics that Peter annoyingly quotes halfway through, but every once in a while they play The Notebook because Clint cries every. Single. Time).

12th Floor: Individual apartments (Dubbed the Bachelor Pad) Sam, Thor, Loki (newly moved in)

Sam and Thor always got along well and once they found something they enjoyed in common, they became quite the unexpected besties. Turned out they both enjoyed video games. Sam keeps an assortment of gaming consoles that he regularly plays through with the god of thunder between missions (and anyone else that dares challenge their gaming skills). Sam was, however, less than thrilled when Loki took the apartment across the hall from him. He has a hard time getting along with the god of mischief and they would constantly bicker, a fact that was not made better when Loki consecutively defeated him and Thor at Super Smash Brothers. Loki tends to either stay locked away in his room, but every once in a while he will sneak away to the library.

13th Floor: Tony Stark’s Closet (named by Pepper)

It’s really more of a workshop for Tony's suits but Pepper considers it Tony's closet (and was quite adamant that they were not to be kept on their living foor). It also houses the main lab. Tony only allows full access to Bruce, Vision and Shuri because he thinks any other Avenger may “mess up the intricacies of the numerous sensitive technological advances” he has made in that lab. Steve doesn't take the secrecy personally, just makes comments that they better not be working on an Ultron 2.0 (he is extremely proud of this 21st century tech joke).

14th Floor: Tony and Pepper’s Penthouse

This is where the Avenger’s have their major get together. It opens up to a wrap around balcony and is the only access to the rooftop Helipad, which is mostly for Tony and Pepper's personal use when getting to and from Stark Industries in New York. Though they don't live at the tower full time, Pepper come at least once a week to check on things. Tony comes so often it's easy to forget he doesn't live there. He has been known to come in the early morning hours to work on new suits, but Pepper doesn't know that.

Floors located under the compound:

Garage: where every type of vehicle you could imagine is stored, nearly all of them donning the Avengers logo. There are anything from motorcycles (including a special edition Harley-Davidson RL 45 Steve picked got for Bucky), ATVs, cars, trucks, and one massive speed jet used to transport the whole team. The garage is only accessibly to the Avengers team and has a massive ramp that opens up 100 meters away from the normal front entrance of the tower.

Basement: Located an extra 50 meters below the garage, no one ventures this low in the tower. It is used to mostly house old tech Tony has developed, unused suits/weapons the team has no use for that is too dangerous to dispose of, and even some left over alien artifacts collected over the last decade.

Like my garbage? Read more of it! Master List

Let me know if you wanna be tagged if I decide to do a sequel!

I tagged anyone who might like the story this will be used in. It won’t be some intricate, detailed story line sort of thing, more like random snippets of stories that happen in the tower, but they will all be based on Loki x Reader (and won’t all involve Jotun Loki)

LOKI TAGS: @socialheartbreak @kcd15 @maladaptive-ninja-returns@nephalem67 @jessiejunebug @woodyandbuzz20-01 @bambamwolf87 @kitsuneharo12 @yzssie@macbetheliza @lokilvrr @lokixme @li-ssu @j-u-s-t-4 @letskillthefuhrer

#loki #loki x oc #loki x reader #loki x you #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #marvel #loki (marvel)#marvel fanfiction #marvel smutt #avengers #stark tower

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nsfwsportsanimebabes · 5 years

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Konoha Akinori- I Love You Prompt #9 “When Baking Cookies..”

Description: for Konoha/Iwa. Prompt requests. I believe you should be looking for an Iwa request with this prompt as well coming soon. Owl and I decided we would do both Konoha and Iwa because I got so fucking excited that you requested Konoha and Iwa still deserves the love as well. \(^o^)/

Requested: yes of course! and i am so freaking ecstatic too!

Listen, I actually made cookies today and my experiences have influenced this little scenario so I hope you all enjoy!~Admin Crow💚

It was Sunday. And anyone who knew you, knew just how much you dedicated your Sundays to doing absolutely nothing. At least, nothing that required you to change out of your pajamas or leave your house. Your friends knew so well how much you dedicated yourself to a ritualistic Sunday that even your phone was quiet most of the time.

And the only one who broke your walls enough to join you on these days was your boyfriend, Konoha Akinori. Mostly because he knew of your Sunday habits, through your mutual friends on the volleyball team; and also because every Sunday since you started dating he would show up, unannounced, determined to spend the day with you. He would sometimes show up in his pajamas too, not a care in the world he had just walked the few blocks down the road in his old, worn out pajamas.

Although, now that you have been together for some time, Konoha made it a habit to spend the weekends with you. So the first thing you see in the mornings is your adorable boyfriend, usually still sound asleep, his dirty blonde hair a mess from the surplus amount of pillows surrounding you both. Getting out of bed without disturbing him, you make your way to your kitchen to start coffee, pondering what you were going to do today.

The sweet smell of liquid caffeine is always enough to rouse Konoha from his slumber. He followed the scent to find you leaning against the kitchen counter, coffee in your hands. Staring out the window completely unaware he had woken up. Sneaking his way up to you and slinking his arms around your waist, Konoha pecked the back of your head in greeting “Good morning F/n, I hope you slept well?” he mused, leaning over and grabbing your cup of coffee “And look, you even have coffee for me? How thoughtful.” he teased, sleep still in his voice as he stole a sip from your cup.

You protested slightly, but the grip around your waist was too much for you to budge, not that you really wanted to. “I would have had a cup ready for you, but I didn’t want it getting cold.” you stated, pointing at his mug sitting next to the coffee pot.

“You’re always so thoughtful. Even on your lazy Sundays” he teased again, squeezing your center one last time before untangling to fill his cup up. “so what is on the non existent agenda for today?” he asked.

“I wanna bake cookies.”

Sputtering slightly Konoha raised an eyebrow at you “F/n. Are you feeling okay? You never want to do anything productive on Sundays. It’s like your only rule!”

You shrug “I wanna bake cookies. I have peanut butter cookie dough. We can make peanut butter chocolate chip cookies.”

Konoha wasn’t about to argue. He loved doing those kinds of things with you. He just wasn’t expecting you to make them on a Sunday. Sundays were typically reserved for binge watching shows and not leaving the couch for hours. But he wouldn’t say no to you. Or to cookies.

Watching you hustle around the kitchen to get the ingredients and baking utensils around was enough entertainment to distract Konoha from his own tasks. Although the smack with a towel he got was enough for him to decide it was worth it.

Once everything was set out on the counter and prepped for the oven, you stepped back and sighed "baking cookies is hard work."

Konoha laughed "well let's get these babies cooking so we can test them soon."

You nodded in agreement and the two of you got the cookies into the oven and sat at the counter waiting for them to get done. You worked together in unison. Something nearly impossible when it comes to the two of you in the same room. But there were no messes to clean up, nothing caught on fire, and neither of you had cookie dough on you. "Hey Aki? thanks for making cookies with me. I know you usually love our lazy Sunday's on the couch and protest whenever we miss them, but I'm glad you made cookies with me today."

Konoha blinked before smiling "I'm still spending time with you. And besides, now we are gonna have cookies to snack on while we lay around later today."

You grinned in response, nodding in agreement to his statement. As you waited for the cookies, you decided to rearrange a few things to pass the time. All the while your thoughts were anywhere but what was being moved in the kitchen. You were wondering how you had been so lucky to have such a great boyfriend. He was always willing to jump on board with your sporadic decisions. And he did it with such ease too. It never ceases to amaze you at how willing he is to just be with you.

Konoha watched as you padded around the kitchen moving things around to make room for the cookies to cool. His thoughts weren't that far off from your own. How lucky he was to have captured the attention of a girl like you. How he was so lucky to get to call you his. He could literally watch you for hours on end and not be any less entertained or amused. This did often happen, and it did get him in trouble from time to time. But he didn't care. You were mesmerizing to him and he would take in as much as he could.

The sound of the timer going off did bring him back to his senses though. Joining you at the counter, You and Konoha got the cookies on the cooling rack and cleaned up the few dishes while they were cooling. Once you were done drying the last of the dishes, Konoha pulled you into his arms and leaned against the counter "don't you think we deserve to taste test these now?" He said, eyeing the cookies.

You laughed and nodded "yes yes, alright. Let's try them while they are still soft and warm."

Konoha reached over and plucked a cookie off of the rack and made a face. Something felt wrong with these cookies. Noticing the look on his face, you reached out and turned the cookie in his hand to inspect it. Instead of the bottom of the cookie being flat like a normal cookie, there were two giant lumps on the bottom. Lines that matched with the grooves on the cooling rack. "What the heck happened?" Konoha laughed as you bolted from his arms to check the rest of the cookies.

"Aki! All of these cookies molded to the cooling rack! they are all deformed on the bottom!" you cried in distress. You couldn't believe this. You had managed to screw up baking cookies.

Popping the deliciously deformed cookie into his mouth, Konoha pulled you away from the cookies and into his arms again, without you seeing him grabbing a second one at the same time. Chuckling at the way you were overreacting, Konoha drew your attention again, brushing a stray hair out of your face. "F/N, I love you, and your reaction to these deformed cookies. Why don't you try one to see if they really turned out badly." He said and shoved the entire thing into your open, shocked mouth. it wasn't often he verbally used the "L" word. but that didn't mean he didn't love you. Or that it still affected you any less the more often he spoke it out loud.

Quickly chewing the cookie and swallowing, you went to comment, and protest about the cookies, when Konoha swooped down and captured your lips with his, promptly cutting you off again. The intoxicating taste of Konoha, mixed with the cookies made you smile into the kiss. Even though he likes to tease and is super sarcastic half the time. He really was sweet. Just like these cookies.

Breaking for air, you looked up at him, "did you really just try to distract me with the "L" word and then shoving a cookie into my mouth?"

Konoha looked down at you and smirked "well it worked didn't it?"

And it had. But it seemed he already knew the answer to that. So instead of responding, you shoved another cookie into his mouth as payback. An action you knew would have you both eating half a batch of cookies and falling into a sugar coma on the couch a few hours later to conclude your baking extravaganza on a typically lazy Sunday.

#Haikyuu Scenario #Haikyuu Prompts List request #for @psychoarrogant #part 1 sort of lol #Konoha Akinori #Fukurodani #best boy!#deserves so much more love #whyyyy is there not more content for him!?#we DEMAND more content!#Haikyuu!!#Admin Crow #Hope you enjoy lovely!

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ff15trashgoldenslumbers · 6 years

Text

Deus dormit

This is a follow up for To the End of Eos well more of a prequel to build to the story of Lunafreya and Princess getting to Altissa, because I had a lot of thoughts on it, and needed to clear my head of it it’s also one of the things I saved to my drive rather than my laptop (which is still MIA).

Please note that Prompto, Gladiolus, and Ignis S.O do have “ names’, due to this series being more on “Princess” and writing ‘Lady in Waiting’ “Lady of the Battlefield’ and ‘Best Friend” was getting annoying.

11569 words because no one would stop me! (ﾉ-_-)ﾉ ~┻━┻ ☆`

~~~~~

☆ 714 Stars ☆

The first time that Noctis saw you, it was due to him and Prompto having headed over to the arcade after school, as per normal. Yet then his eyes moved to the claw machine where you were standing with one of your friends, giggling at the fact that she had managed to snag three of the Chocobo plushies within the machine in one go.

“Dude, you still there?” Prompto called, nudging the Prince beside him.

Noctis nodded softly, still, every so often his eyes would train back towards you again, and again. He didn’t think anything of it, it’s just that there was something about you, like a magnet almost, that was drawing his attention to you. So when you had walked by and had dropped a charm from your bag, the Prince immediately bent down to grab it.

“Excuse me,” Prompto called, as you and your friend immediately stopped, turning to the two boys. “I think you dropped this.”

Noctis watched as you turned to that cute star-shaped bag on your back, then back to the Prince, “Here.”

“Omg, thanks.” You smiled, as he placed the small little star charm within your grasp.

Noctis returned to the arcade almost every day after that, in hopes that you’d show up again. Still no luck, that was until the following month when he saw a glimpse of that cute bag again.

“..cute new ones, but I suck at the claw machine. Please, there’s only one more left.” He heard you mutter into your phone.

“I can help,” Noctis called before realizing what he was doing.

You turned towards him, before recognizing who he was, “No prob, someone else is going to help.” You smiled at your phone, before hanging up, “Hey, you sure you don’t mind?”

Noctis gave a shrug, before turning to the machine, “Which one are you after?”

“That one with the stars.” You smiled, pointing toward the Limited edition one.

It did take him two tries, yet Noctis managed to snag the Chocobo plush with stars in its feathers, turning to you as you beamed brightly taking it from his hands.

“Thank you! This is the second time you helped me out. I’m Y/N.”

“Noctis.”

“Well there’s gotta be something I can do to thank you! Oh I know! There’s this little fair this weekend, two of my friends can’t go. Wanna come?”

Again Noctis’s mouth moved without his mind’s permission. “Sure.”

“Awesome, you can bring your blonde friend.”

☆ 698 Stars ☆

Noctis sighed as slumped further into the backseat of the car, Prompto sitting beside him for once rather than shotgun, as the Prince had just finished with a public address and was being escorted back to his apartment as it was beyond late.

“Dude, that’s kind of creepy.” Prompto chuckled looking to Noctis turn his phone back on.

“What?”

“You have a picture of Y/N as your screensaver.”

Noctis cocked an eyebrow as both Ignis and Gladiolus turned at this, “So?”

“Kind of pathetic, that you got a girl on your phone, you went on a non-date with forever ago,” Gladiolus replied.

“Yeah, that’s what you’re suppose to do when you’re dating,” Prompto argued.

Noctis blinked in confusion, as he looked at the picture of you on his phone smiling so brightly, “We are dating.”

Gladiolus let out a rather loud guffaw as he looked to the Prince, “Nice one, Prince Charmless.”

“We are.” Noctis huffed.

“Really then call her up, and prove it,” Gladiolus smirked.

Noctis scoffed toward his shield, “I don’t have to prove it to you.” He stated when his phone binged showing he had a text message. Only to pull up a picture of you standing before a starry sky, pointing up to a large mess of pinks, blues, and oranges with the text of ‘Sweetie look! It’s a fish!’

“So you got the proof or should we start to worry?” Gladiolus chuckled.

Noctis quickly texted you back, only for you to video call in shortly after. “Hey.”

“Hi, Sweetie! I needed to show you the entire sky!” You called, as your camera moved around, before focusing back on you. “Isn’t it pretty?”

“Yeah.” Noctis smiled, before noticing you blink in confusion. “Something wrong?”

“Did you just getting done with your meeting?” You asked. “That suit looks really nice on you!”

Noctis tried to control his blush, “Yeah, I’m heading home right now.”

“Oh well, I don’t want to keep you, tell the others I say Hi!” You smiled brightly, only to look off screen at someone shouting something, then back with a giggle. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See ya,” Noctis called, before looking to the rest of the car with a smug look.

Ignis chuckled softly, adjusting his glasses, “So when do we have the pleasure of meeting her?”

☆ 689 Stars ☆

Noctis had to admit, that he was worried when you had both started to date. Only his close friends, Ignis, Gladiolus, and Prompto, as well as your friends Clara, Lucet, and Amor, and his old friend Lunafreya were aware of your relationship. It wasn’t known to the public, and most of the time if you both were to go on a date together, it was either done within a group, or he would have to wear a disguise. Or you both would have to hang out at his apartment.

Ignis had stated to him time and time again, that with a commoner such as yourself, dating the Prince was, unfortunately, a cause for alarm. Should the wrong people, which to get ahold of you, they could use it against Noctis.

Yet as you sat beside Noctis, across from Ignis and Clara, you holding tightly to Noctis’s hand, stating, “I don’t mind, we don’t need the world to know.”

Noctis couldn’t help but to agree, yet what really shocked him was that no long after that, someone had noticed that the two of you were seen hanging around a lot and had attempted to kidnap you. Yet before either himself or Ignis could react, you had summoned a flash of fire, quickly followed by a bolt of lighting, pushing away the attacker.

“Y/N,” Noctis called in disbelief, yet when you turned to him, you seemed afraid, and then quickly bolted, Clara quickly going after you.

Through Ignis’s connections, the two had found your apartment, where you had lived with Clara and Amor. It was his first time there, and when he found you on the couch, crying to Amor after Clara had let him in, he stopped in his tracks.

“…he must think I’m a freak! No one else can do this! I can’t see him again, and I really like him, Amor!” You cried loudly, as your friend tried to console you.

“I don’t really know Noctis, but I don’t think he’ll care.” Amor offered.

You wailed loudly in her embrace, “He must hate me!”

“I don’t hate you,” Noctis stated, wanting to kick himself when you and Amor jumped in shock at him being there.

“Your…Your Highness!” Amor gasped, quickly jumping to her feet to curtsy to the young man.

“Amor! Help me and Ignis with tea!” Clara called.

Amor quickly made herself gone, as Noctis moved over to the couch sitting down beside you.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Noctis asked.

“You, you weren’t suppose to see that! You must hate me” You cried. “I talk to rooms that no one’s in, I have these powers and I’m so weird you have to hate me.”

“No,” Noctis replied, reaching out to place a hand on your own. “I think they’re cool.”

“I just…I just want you to like me.” You sobbed, trying to dry your face with your free hand.

“I do though.”

At that moment he realized that he never wanted to be the reason you cried.

☆ 664 Stars ☆

One of the things that was constant within Noctis life was that he could rely on his old friend Umbra to drop by rather randomly, with a message from his dear friend, Lunafreya. It wasn’t really a surprise for the black dog to appear and greet him, stay for a bit then disappear.

Yet what was a surprise, was just how you had taken to Umbra so quickly! The first time Umbra appeared before you, you couldn’t stop the scratches and cuddles, which the dog didn’t seem to mind in the least. So after a few visits, Umbra would actually trot pass Noctis and then jump right into your awaiting arms for cuddles, as you’d loudly call ‘Puppy!’

Still, the strangest had to be the time that he had come home and you were laying on the couch, having let yourself in with a spare key, with Umbra laying on your chest as if he was a small dog, while you stroked his back and watched t.v.

“Hey.”

“Oh hey, Sweetie!” You called, underneath the dog, as Noctis moved over to press a kiss to your forehead.

“You been here for a bit buddy?” Noctis asked, stroking Umbra’s head.

“About 15 minutes, I was going to send him to the Citadel, but it started to rain.” You replied moving to sit up, yet keep the dog’s head in your lap.

Somehow you even convinced Noctis to let the dog stay until it stopped raining. Sending him home with a note to Lunafreya of why he was late and to not get angry at the dog as it was you that made him stay. The next time Umbra arrived with two books, and somehow both you and Lunafreya had become rather fast penpals.

☆ 652 Stars ☆

You had come over multiple times at this point, often cuddling against the man or allowing him to rest against you while you both watched tv or played video games. As with dating the Prince, you both weren’t able to spend ‘alone’ time without someone guarding you unless you were in his apartment.

The first time he had dozed off on you, he was embarrassed to find that he had accidentally drooled on your lap. Yet you giggled, stating you knew he was sleepy and stayed petting his head reassuring him that you didn’t mind until he returned back to sleep.

“Oh, what are you playing today?” You asked, moving to sit on the large couch beside the man, no matter how much couch was available the two of you would basically sit on top of each other. “Oh is this that Assassin game?”

Noctis perked up, “You know about it?”

“I’ve only seen a few videos online, these games make me dizzy when I play. I don’t mind watching though.”

So all evening the two of you play the game, you inquiring about the game’s lore while Noctis geeked out and was rather excited to explain the plot and characters. It was rather cute to see you typically silent boyfriend be so nerdy. Yet by the time the game final saved and the two of you had called it a night, neither of you realized just how late it had gotten.

“Oh, I’d better call Lucet.” You yawned pulling out your phone.

“You…you can stay if you want,” Noctis stated rather quickly.

“Really? I don’t want to intrude.” You replied.

Noctis scratched the back of his head, a nervous reaction you noticed he did when he was embarrassed or put on the spot, “I mean it’s late.”

“Okay, do you mind if I borrow some pajamas?”

You giggled stepping from the bathroom, into Noctis’s bedroom, his shirt overly large on you, as you moved to the bed he was already in. The two of you had a very long drawn out argument about who would sleep on the couch, only to then realize that his bed was large enough to fit the both of you on it, and neither of you was comfortable enough to take the next step, just yet.

Noctis watched as you climbed into the far side of the bed, while he took the other. Making certain that you were settled before shutting off the bedside light. He typically slept in the center of the bed, determined to take up the entire space of the large bed, hopefully, tonight he realized that he couldn’t do that, not when his lovely girlfriend was also there.

“Noctis.” You called.

Noctis rolled over, only to noticed that you were much closer than he thought. He nearly jumped from his skin as you moved closer cuddling into his chest.

“I figured you wouldn’t turn away from a good cuddle.” You smiled, nuzzling into his chest, as you closed your eyes.

Noctis slowly wrapped an arm around your waist, his blue eyes closing. Only awaken, at what only seemed to be minutes later, in reality, he knew that it was hours, as the sun was starting to shine the windows. He gave a yawn, ready to return back to sleep, only to notice the being asleep next to him. You looked so beautiful next to him, holding tightly to his hand within your sleep, having moved over to his pillow to share with him.

He could get use to waking up to this.

☆ 647Stars ☆

Noctis hated these types of parties, he would have to pretend to eat his vegetables, or quickly dispose of them, all of these girls would flirt with him, and he had to dance.

UGH! No thanks, still there was one thing that did make him happy, you had joined the party. Well, you and your three friends, who seemed to fit in just as much as his own. Yet the thing that upset him the most was that you were seated about 5 people down from himself, no matter how much he demanded Ignis to sit you next to himself.

“She did this on purpose!” Noctis hissed to Ignis as the man leaned in to hear the man muttering angrily at the fact that this annoying excuse of a chiffon mess sitting in your seat, switched her place card with your own.

“Yes, I’m certain that the ‘Young lady of…”

Noctis didn’t care, this needed to be fixed, yesterday! Noctis’s eyes moved down the table to where you were sitting between a woman in an offense orange number and a man in a grey suit that couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off your chest. What he would give to grab your hand and warp out of here.

“We will see to this soon enough,” Ignis stated standing up straight to go claim his seat, next to his own girlfriend, Clara further down the table as dinner was ready to be served.

All through the salad course, which Noctis ate, apparently unbridled rage made one forget that he was eating vegetables, and the first dish, his eyes were trained on you. You didn’t appear to be nervous, yet then again you seemed rather drawn in as you had stated that you were nervous about being around the elite when you, yourself weren’t.

As dishes were cleared away, and the next soup course was being delivered, that’s when it all went to Hell. A poor runner had accidentally got caught on one of the trains of an evening dress, only for her to trip, spilling the soup all over your dress.

“I’m so sorry, Ma’am!” The young runner gasped from the floor.

“Oh my god!” You shrieked, bolting up as the entire room became quiet, as you turned to the girl, quickly kneeling beside her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean! I’m so sorry.” She gasped, pulling her serving scarf from her pocket, to try and assist with the damage to your beyond fixable dress. “Please forgive me.”

You grabbed her hands, as you smiled “It’s fine, it’s fine, lucky it was Gazpacho.”

“You’re not mad?” She inquired on the verge of tears.

“Why would I be? It was an accident, they happen.”

“Y/n,” Noctis called, having moved over with Ignis and Clara in tow the moment you stood up.

“Is everything alright?” Ignis called, looking you both over.

“Yep, no harm was done.” You smiled standing up, helping the runner up.

“But Ma’am your dress.”

You looked down, only just now seeming to notice the large wet spot on the front of your cream and black dress, responding with a shrug, “Well, at least it was green gazpacho, and not red.”

“Ignis,” Noctis called, wanting to follow you out, yet he knew that he’d never hear the end of it from Ignis for abandoning his party guests. He didn’t even want this stupid party!

“Of course,” Ignis called, taking your hand and leading you out the room, Clara in tow.

Noctis did have to admit that he rather did enjoy the face the other girls gave him when he sat back down. It still was not known to mean the importance that you held.

What really brought a smile to his face was the dress that you appeared in after dinner. He had originally bought it for you to wear tonight but never bought it up. Yet now as you enter the ballroom, he physically felt his heart jump in his chest. He watched you slowly look around the room, among the large string of guests across the large ballroom, trying to find…

“Noctis?”

The young Prince froze, as he turned toward his Father sitting beside him. This was one of the few times that they had been in a room together in a long time and would also be the first time that you would be introduced to him.

“She’s the one?” Regis chuckled, “She’s a rather beautiful young one, maybe we should start the dancing.”

Noctis groaned, if it was one thing he hated slightly less than vegetables, it was dancing. His partner typically never knew when to stop and would often cling to him, plus his leg would start to act up. So as the music was slowly turning to start the actual dancing part of the party, Noctis watched as Ignis moved over to you, taking your hand and moving you towards the dance floor.

“His Royal Highness Noctis Lucis Caelum.” The announcer called, as he descended the throne to join the floor below.

Noctis couldn’t help but smile as you turned up your lip and pulled a face at the fact the other girls were gasping and grasping and adjusting themselves to appear more sexy for him. A chuckle escaped him, as he saw you softly mutter, ‘what the fuck’ at one of the women with large Chocobo feathers of every color in her hair and on her dress.

As the two of you met on the dance floor, Noctis couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his face. You looked so perfect standing before him, and that bright smile that appeared on your face as you rose from the curtsy, to take his hand into the first waltz set his entire body aflame.

“I think I made some enemies.” You giggled, as he moved you around the floor. “Oh and thank you for the dress, Ignis said you got it for me.”

Noctis seemed to blush at this, as he turned away from you, yet his blue eyes dragged back to you again. “It looks nice of you.”

You moved as close as you could within your large dress, resting your head against his shoulder, only to hear the room gasp loudly. “Oh, was that the wrong thing to do?”

“Who cares,” Noctis muttered against your head, the waltz had stopped and it had become a more calming music, and the way you stood now it had taken quite a bit of weight off his leg. He had to admit he actually didn’t mind dancing for once.

“Noctis.”

The Prince turned at the call, finding that, his father was standing there. The rest of the crowd was rather surprised as King Regis hadn’t actually been on the dance floor in years.

“Noctis…” You muttered softly, your shaking hand within your boyfriend’s as he led you over to his Father. “Noct, Sweetie.” You cried again, as you got closer, you had actually grabbed a hold of his arm. “Noct…”

Regis looked to his son, then to the young lady on his arm, as he bowed his head slightly.

You stopped your shaking only slightly, as you glanced at your Lady in Waiting, standing beside Ignis on the edge of the dance floor. Watching as Clara gave you the signal to bow, as you turned back, removing your arm from the death grip you had on Noctis, curtseying to the King, “Your Highness.”

Regis chuckled, turning to Noctis, “May I?”

You felt yourself squeak softly, as Noctis moved your hand over to his Father’s. You turned to your boyfriend, then back to King Regis, as he linked his arm through your own escorting you back the dance floor. This time you actually could feel everyone’s eyes on you, as Regis moved you into a much slower waltz.

“I do hope that I didn’t embarrass you too much,” He chuckled.

“No, no, I just wasn’t expecting it.” You muttered softly, noticing that his blue eyes were very similar to Noctis, yet older, wiser, more sadness. You quickly added! “Your majesty.”

Regis chuckled as spun you, “No need to be so formal. You’ve made my son very happy.”

You beamed at this, “I’m happy to hear that. He makes me happy too.”

“He had mentioned that your last name was Nox S Sidere.”

You blinked confused at this, as you nodded your head softly.

Regis chuckled slightly louder, “Night’s Constellation, I should have known that my son would fall in love with a woman who is the night’s sky herself. You know when he was a little boy he’d go star gazing all the time.”

“Really, me too.” You smiled.

Noctis watched as you went from nervous to rather giggly with his Father rather quickly on the dance floor. Two of the most important people in his life, he couldn’t help the smile.

☆ 625 Stars ☆

You had confided to Noctis that you had often seen a little white fox running around his apartment. When you had finally gotten a moment to speak to the little fox, he had explained that he often watched over the young man for quite a while now.

“You see Carbunkle?” Was the first thing he had asked.

You had expected for him to be kind of skeptical or confused, even Clara had her doubts from time to time when you spoke of the little white fox or a woman in black that never appeared threatening, yet almost sad, and would cause shivers to go through you, not of fear yet from a chill she seemed to bring, like a winter’s wind.

“You…you’ve seen him too?” You asked.

“Never while awake,” Noctis replied, before turning to you. “Nice to know he’s still looking out for me.”

It was often now that Noctis would find you walking the halls of the Citadel, often waving to some of the members of the Guard. Yet every so often he would find you within the throne room, standing in the center of the room as you would be having a conversation. Often times it was rather happy and you’d be giggling, sometimes it sounded like you were comforting someone, other times you would ask questions and then become upset at the answer.

You had confided in him, that you were able to speak to others that weren’t seen by ‘normal’ people. Clara had explained that this was due to the fact that you were a Muse, a being blessed by the gods, and there had not been one in hundreds of years unbeknownst to you. Which would explain your powers and your ability to seem to speak to the past. Clara had him promise never to tell you.

He couldn’t understand why.

It surprised him the most when you had explained you were talking to the Kings, and Queens of the past. Not many outside of those extremely close to the King’s power and lineage knew of the Kings, and you were speaking to them all the time. Often within the throne room, yet it wasn’t strange to find you sitting somewhere within the Citadel nowadays speaking to what appeared to be an empty room.

Somehow through some means, you had actually given him the ability to see his ancestors as well, yet there was one person, one vision of the past that you were unable to do that with.

“Who are you talking to today?” Noctis inquired one day stepping into the throne room.

You spun looking at the man, then back to the space before you, glancing down almost embarrassed, “There’s, there’s a woman here frequently.”

“Really?” Noctis asked as you begun to move over to him. “Is it The Rouge or Oracle today?”

“Neither, she talks a lot about you and your Father.” You smiled as you took his hand, allowing him to lead you out the room to get ready for dinner. “She loves you so much Noctis.”

☆ 536 Stars ☆

Why Gladiolus believed having you show up to one of his training sessions was a good idea, he would never understand. Still, Noctis made it rather a good show considering that he was actually giving Gladiolus a run for his money.

“Doing good today Noct, trying to impress your girl?” Gladiolus chuckled fending off the Prince.

Noctis tossed a glance over his shoulder toward where you standing with Ignis and Clara, your hands clasped to your chest as you stared so lovingly toward the Prince. “Nah, she knows a real man when she sees it.”

The two locked in a stance before they both broke apart only to hear you applauding.

“That was amazing, Noctis.” You cheered turning to Gladiolus, “Would it be alright if I try Gladio?”

Gladiolus chuckled, “If you’re up for it.”

You turned to Clara, as the woman removed your shawl and adjusting your knee-length skirt, you moved over, taking the training sword from Gladiolus as he moved over to where you once stood.

“Do take it easy, please,” Clara called.

Ignis chuckled fondly, “Noctis wouldn’t hurt her.”

“I didn’t mean Noctis.” The woman replied as the two men beside her stared in confusion.

“Give me all you got, Sweetie.” You cooed to Noctis.

“Uh sure,” Noctis replied, he had no issues with fighting a lady, hell 3 of the famous King of Lucis were ladies, yet still you were his adorable girlfriend, he’d hold back just a little.

Abort mission! Abort mission!

You came at him fast, despite your heels and huge skirts that Clara made you wear, Noctis hardly had a chance to block. Before you were spinning trying to slam a kick into the man’s head, quickly followed by a slash from your practice sword.

“Y/N! Do try to keep it to just sword strikes!” Clara mentioned.

“Oh…okay!” You called back, before lunging forward again. You seemed to specialize in fencing, even that was dangerous!

Noctis quickly parried, pushing your sword away. Sparing a quick glance to Gladiolus and Ignis who were also staring in confusion as you kept up with the Prince on the floor. It was nearing the 10-minute mark, when Noctis realized that you weren’t slowing down and your stamina was something amazing, so he instead settled for disarming you.

“Ow!” You squeaked, as he slapped your sword from your hand, before turning to him with large eyes.

Noctis quickly lowered his sword as he moved over to you, “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“That was awesome! Where did you learn that?” You called, moving over to him picking up your sword. “Can you show me?”

Noctis blinked in confusion before he smiled, “Sure.”

☆ 503 Stars ☆

The day you moved into Noctis apartment with him, was the day that he would always remember. To wake up with you beside him, to have you pattering around the house in one of his pajama shirts while pulling breakfast or a late night snack together. Someone who understood that there was no speaking upwards to 20 minutes after waking up, only cuddles and kisses!

Finally, someone who gets that morning is not a time to be awake! He loved you so much!

Yet everyone knew that the Prince was in an exclusive relationship with you, and you had become a type of celebrity yourself. It made him worry a little, you didn’t like to use your powers, and sure you were rather well with a rapier, but it wasn’t a good look for the Prince’s girlfriend to be throwing people around. Yet it seems that you weren’t the only one full of surprises.

“Ignis already has Y/N to the car, we will be meeting Amor and Prompto there,” Clara explained, standing from the couch as the Prince walked into the living room. Your Lady in waiting always seemed to be rather standoffish to him, as if she didn’t like the Prince taking away her charge, despite that she was in a relationship with Ignis. She would also get this far off look from time to time.

“Clara is a Clairvoyance, you know one of those people that can see the future,” Lucet explained one day.

Yet you did not know, or maybe you did. Still, what did Clara see that made her dislike the Prince so much? The woman never really gave out fortunes, her visions were always kept hushed and to herself, she may have shared one with Ignis, yet those typically were ones that she dubbed ‘Not altering’.

“Cool, let’s go,” Noctis replied.

“There is quite a bit of paparazzi out today, do stick close to me,” Clara stated, as they both exited the elevator.

She wasn’t overreacting, seems that the paparazzi were all out today. News must have spread fast that you had moved in with him, and the tabloids loved that kind of gossip the most. Cameras flashed, and microphones were thrust within his face, as Clara did her best to swat them away, all the while keeping close to the young man.

“Do stand aside,” Clara called, only to gasp at the man who had quickly jumped before the Prince.

Noctis hardly had time to react as the woman moved before him, a hand grabbing the paparazzi’s camera shoving him back, while the woman spun kicking his legs out from underneath him. Tossing her jacket over Noctis’s head, and while having the moment rushed to the parked car where Ignis and you were waiting.

“Was it wise to be so rough, Darling?” Ignis inquired signaling the driver to go.

“I’d much rather be rough and have a story about me than have Noctis and Y/n reputation be smudged. Filthy tabloids like that seem to enjoy messing with the crown’s name.” Clara replied, removing her jacket from Noctis’s head, before smoothing out his hair and shirt.

“I thought you were just some historian?” Noctis stated in shock.

Clara blinked, “I am, at least that is one of my job descriptions. I am also Y/n’s Lady in waiting, and when it comes down to it a bodyguard to you both.”

“Bodyguard?”

Clara chuckled as she finished smoothing out Noctis’s shirt, “I’m rather fond of you Prince Noctis, and it wouldn’t look well for me to stand by and let something happen to you.”

Noctis turned to you as you nuzzle into his side, “So your Lady in Waiting is an assassin?”

“She is the one who taught me to fence. Still better than that time Lucet tried to teach me to box, or Amor teaching me to shoot, my ears were ringing for a week.” You giggled.

“You never know what situation you may come along,” Clara stated adjusting her glasses. “I’d rather you be prepared for anything.

“Amor taught you to shoot?” Noctis inquired.

“She’s a rather adapted sniper, not very well close up,” Ignis stated. “Quite the opposite to Prompto.”

“Something wrong Noct?” You asked, watching your boyfriend who looked like his mind had just been blown.

“I’m fine.” He muttered, he was use to being surrounded by super-powered soldiers, but you were apparently surrounded by them too. “Wait why didn’t anyone tell me!”

☆ 372 Stars ☆

“We seem to have found the source of the glow at the top of the Citadel,” Regis stated, walking down the hallway his son beside him, the duo on the way their once a week dinner together.

For a few weeks, a blue glow could be seen bouncing among the towers. But whenever anyone when to investigate they couldn’t find the source. Civilians thought it to be a new spectacle to please the people, which it did. Yet that didn’t mean it didn’t frustrate the guards who were investigating it!

“Really, what is it?”

Regis chuckled, “Y/N.”

“What was she doing that caused her to glow?” Noctis asked, you had strange powers, but he never recalled you glowing to be one of them.

“When I asked her, she had stated that King Mors taught her to warp, and she was training with The Just and The Rouge,” Regis stated. “I believe this is the first time that a Princess has also been able to warp alongside her Prince.”

Noctis couldn’t help but smile, it was strange that his Father had already thought so far ahead for the two of you. Then again he felt the same, his thoughts stopping when he saw you standing before the dining room door speaking to Gladiolus, before turning towards him and his Father’s approach.

“Good evening, Your Highness.” You smiled with a curtsy within your dinner dress, then turning to Noctis. “Hi, Sweetie.”

Noctis smiled, as he pressed a kiss to your cheek, before Regis offered his arm to you, escorting you to the dinner table.

It wasn’t strange now to see the blue glow on top of the Citadel, bouncing from tower to tower every so often, sometimes there would even be a second racing along with the first.

“There’s something I think you’d like to see, Y/N,” Ignis stated, having been sent back to the apartment after you had fallen ill earlier that day from a cold that had been going around.

You shuffled over with your large blanket acting as your cape, to the large picture window facing the Citadel, you had much rather have been there besides Noctis at that dinner. If anything to eat his vegetables for him, or make it a little less boring, or better yet have him come cuddle you better since he was the one who gave you this cold! Cuddles will heal me faster, my foot!

Only to gasp at the multitude of blue flashes across the tops of the Citadel’s towers. Turning as you saw Ignis holding out your phone for you, with a text from Noctis.

“Sorry you couldn’t be here tonight, I miss you. I’ll be home soon.”

“Iggy.”

“Yes?”

“I’m going to cry.” You whimpered watching the lights bounce around the Citadel.

“I’ll go fetch you some tissues.” Ignis chuckled, pulling you up a chair and tugging your blanket cape around your shoulders.

☆ 245 Stars ☆

“Are we going to get in trouble for this?” You whispered as Noctis lead you out the huge gala that the Kingdom held tonight.

“It’s fine, not like we need to be there.”

With that reassurance, the two of you moved through the city the stars and moon guiding your way undetected hand in hand. It had begun to get a little chilly, as Noctis provide you his suit jacket, before the two of you found yourselves at the dock where Noctis would often disappear to on some of the more ‘annoying’ days.

You sat beside him, head resting against his shoulder, feeling the warmth of the Prince and surrounded by his scent due to his jacket snugged so tightly around you. No words passed between you, as you both sat there in attire that was made for socializing with the upper crust. Now made to sit here within this private world to the both of you was much better than being within that room. Granted when you returned it was more than likely going to be done to both Ignis and Clara worry.

Yet for the moment to be alone, it was heaven.

You giggled applauding Noctis’s captures and reels, yet it seemed that all evening Noctis was a little more silent. Well more silent than he normally was, almost as if he was lost in thought.

“We should get back.” He stated suddenly, his rod vanishing from his hands, helping you to stand.

“Ok.” You smiled, only to coo loudly as you looked up to the night sky. “Sweetie look.”

Noctis followed your gaze to the sky, all the stars out, it seemed almost like a painting, everything was perfect. Still, the real perfection was down here on Eos with him now, the young man took a deep breath calling out the name that had become so much like home to him. He watched you turn, staring in confusion as to where he was standing, then down to where he was kneeling before you.

“I love you more than all the stars within the night sky. Will you marry me?”

You didn’t hesitate, just a sudden and quick answer of, “Yes! I do!”

He was nervous placing the ring on your finger, both of your hands shaking, he managed to put it on. You admiring the symbol of you love as he stood and you moved into his arms hugging him tightly, pressing your lips to his. It made everything worth it!

As the two of you entered back into the Citadel, the Gala long over, neither of you could say you were surprised that there were six people waiting for you.

“Noctis…”

“Come on Specs it’s not like anyone cared.”

“I would think not!” Ignis groaned, “We had to feign that you were feeling under the weather.”

You moved over to Noctis wrapping your hand around his own, your other wrapping around his bicep. “Ignis, we didn’t mean to…”

“Young lady.” Clara hissed, using that tone that you knew meant you were in for it. “You went and disappeared, do you not understand what this could do to both yours and Noctis reputation? You weren’t gone for a few minutes, you both disappeared for hours.”

“Clara I’m sorry, we didn’t want anyone to worry. Please,” You began only to stop as Amor gasped and began to flail.

Clara growled before looking at the smaller woman, “What is it, Amor?”

“They’re engaged! Noctis proposed!” Amor squealed, leave it to a sniper’s sharp eyes to find the ring.

“You what?” Clara and Ignis called at the same time turning back to the two of you.

Both you and Noctis exchanged a glance, before you slowly rose your hand, showing off the large blue stone engagement ring, much to the congratulations of the others in the room. Yet it was off, Clara stood off to the side, her eyes widen behind her glasses waiting for the others to settle down.

“Isn’t this amazing, Clara?” Amor asked, her hand holding tightly to your hand, showing off your engagement ring.

Clara blinked, before shaking her head, as she moved forward, wrapping both her arms around you and Noctis. “I’m so happy for the both of you.” She leaned back looking to Noctis, “I know you’ll always make her happy, thank you Noctis.”

You stared in confusion, having known Clara most of your life, and she was crying, “Clara.”

“I’m so sorry, I yelled at you.” Clara cried, raising her glasses as she dried her tears, smiling as Ignis handed her his handkerchief. “I’ve always wanted to help you plan a wedding.”

You giggled,“I wouldn’t want anyone else.”

“Encase I was mistaken, Clarus I believed the party ended hours ago.”

The entire room turned as they noticed the King and his Shield moving into the room, which quickly received bows from the rest of the room and a call of “Your Majesty.”

“I believed I heard that a wedding was to be planned, whom may I inquire is engaged?” Regis called.

You turned to Noctis still holding tightly to your hand, as he nodded softly, you stepped forward presenting your hand to the Kingdom of Lucis, “We are, Your Majesty.”

Regis glanced to your hand then sighed heavily shaking his head, “Tsk tsk tsk, that won’t do.” He stated handing his cane over to Clarus, taking your hand before pulling you forward into a hug. “I much prefer, Dad.”

☆ 228 Stars ☆

You took a deep breath, as you stared into the mirror before you. This party was for you! Well you and Noctis, even King Regis was to be in attendance. Still, it didn’t stop the nervousness that flooded through your system.

Your own dressing suite had cleared out from your 3 friends, and you had yet to see Noctis this evening. Actually, all day, as it seemed that you both were being ushered around all day, you to the hair salon, nail salon, spa, and then into the Citadel, where you had only gotten a quick kiss to the Prince before being pushed into your dressing room to get ready.

Yet you turned as you felt a familiar presence within the room, turning to see a familiar face and a very happy tail wagging back and forth, “Umbra! Hi Puppy!” You smiled, bending down, so that the dog could give you his version of a hug, by placing his head on your shoulder. “You came all the way here.”

Umbra gave a soft bark, turning to present the bag on his back, where yours and Lunafreya’s exchange journal was placed. The Journal was a soft pink and blue, with a beautiful flower in the center, you sat down on the ground, happy that you hadn’t dawned your dress yet, knowing that if Clara saw you in this position in your dress from Noctis she’d have a fit.

Opening the book you couldn’t help but smile at the detailed beautiful writing that had become your confidante over the last couple of years.

I am so happy for the both of you!

If I may offer my engagement gift to you both, I wish to sign the treaty and personally officiate your wedding as a sign of new beginnings.

Do send a picture when you get your wedding dress!

You didn’t even attempt to stop the tears spilling from your eyes as you held up the picture of Lunafreya and Pyrna congratulating you on your engagement. Despite never having officially met, you felt a very strong connection to the other. You placed the book in your lap as you rubbed at Umbra’s cheek, pulling him forward again.

“Thank you, Umbra.” You smiled, as you wrapped your arms around the dog. “Will you be staying for the party?”

“Princess,” Clara called from beyond the door, a term used by many at this point in the Citadel, before stepping in with Lucet and Amor in tow. “Oh, you have a guest, hello Umbra.”

Umbra barked to the three ladies moving into the room, receiving chin scratches and belly rubs.

“You’re not even dressed yet, and Noctis got you such a pretty dress,” Amor called, moving over to the black dress on the mannequin.

“Lucky you got a man with some taste, if I left it to Gladio, I’d be wearing just a pair of heels.” Lucet chuckled picking up Umbra, ever the animal lover. “You nervous?”

“A little.” You attempted, yet didn’t want to go into the full details, as Clara begun to help you dress. The dress rose in the front, showing off your sparkling heels, while draping in the back to the floor, a full skirt that blossomed out as you didn’t believe you looked good in slimmer form-fitting dresses.

You allowed the three women to lead you out the door, Umbra bounding out before you. Having received a makeshift cute little tie from Clara made out of a few hair ribbons. You watched the black dog, prance around the corner to the doors that you knew would bring you to ballroom. Only to smile at the man you had fallen in love with.

Noctis was always handsome to you, yet to now see him in his light, dressed for you. It brought back the memory of how you two decided to become one.

You cried that night, while you agreed to become his, and you felt those same tears appearing in your eyes now as you stepped forward. Noctis hand immediately moving to the only piece of jewelry that mattered to you, as he cupped your hand, pressing his lips to your own. You both parted as you heard the announcer introduce Prompto and Amor, despite the fact that the party was started hours ago, the main guests had yet to arrive.

“You both look absolutely adorable.” Clara smiled, touching up your lipstick, and removing the lipstick from Noctis’s lips, despite knowing that it was just doing to end up back there again within the next thirty minutes. “Please refrain from running this time.”

“You’re being doting again, My Love,” Ignis replied, fixing Noctis’s necktie, then moving to your hair accessory of the evening.

“If they run away this time, they may just elope.” Clara stated, as she gave you both a tight squeeze before moving over to take Ignis’s arm, as the announcer called ‘Lord. Ignis Scientia and Lady Clara Videntis.’ Umbra choosing to join the two in their entrance

“Noctis,” You smiled, linking arms with your husband to be, “I’m so happy.”

“Yeah, me too.”

You smiled as you felt the love of your life move you forward through the wide-open doors, as you were both announced, ‘Prince Noctis and Future Princess Y/n Lucis Caelum’. The applause was drowned out, as you kept sneaking glances to the other leading you down the stairs, your eyes then going to the throne across the room to your future Father in Law, that had become such a welcoming part of your life. To your friends within the crowd cheering for you and your happiness. You smiled as Noctis moved you to the dance floor, your first dance as an engaged couple, you held tightly to your husband to be, repeating the same gesture of resting your head against his shoulder as you did so long ago during your first dance together. This time you were greeted by a soft coo from the crowd, and a rewarding kiss to your head from your partner.

The dance ended all too soon, as you were lead up the large staircase to Regis, the King standing to greet his son and daughter, as he affectionately begun to call you once he saw the ring on your hand. He placed a hand to Noctis’s shoulder, turning to you as he took your hands, moving you forward as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. A gesture that had become to all to familiar now. Stepping aside to offer you both your thrones to overlook the large party.

Despite knowing the room was filled with hundreds of people rich than yourself, at this moment you knew that you were the real winner. Not because you were marrying into the most powerful family in all of Eos, it was due to the fact that you had so many people besides you.

☆ 184 Stars ☆

Noctis could understand the look that you were giving the room, neither of you were morning people, and this was the first meeting that you were to be in that was at 8 in the morning. Meaning Ignis and Clara had gotten the two of you up at 6 to make sure that you both were dressed and ready. It was still funny to see you across from him, attempting to stay awake as well, and seeming to be questioning all of life’s questions at this moment. He seated at his Father’s left hand, you on King Regis right.

It more than likely did not help that you both were the youngest in the room well over 20 years, and the guy talking now, Viscount Phipps was going on and on about nothing as he typically did on the furthest end of the table. At least he wasn’t picking on you as he normally likes to do. Even King Regis was starting to get annoyed at the man’s droning, and looked ready to fall out his chair to avoid being in the meeting any longer.

“Which is to say our next issue.” The Viscount stated his eyes turning to you in the furthest seat from him on the opposite side of the table, yet you seem to not notice as you were focusing more on if you could warp out the window without being detected. “Young Lady, are you still with us?”

Noctis hissed to the elder man going to correct the man, only to stop at the simple gesture from his father, everyone else was already referring to you as Princess why couldn’t this idiot do the same?

“Do address the Princess, as such Viscount, we will not remind you again,” Clarus stated to the elder man down the table.

“She is no Princess, this commoner knows nothing about how to rule, she is not of any lineage.” The man growled. “What does she know of royalty, common laws and practice, or honor?”

“Quite more than you, Viscount Phipps.”

The Viscount growled to you, ever since the engagement was announced the man was pulling at you. Aside from a pleasant good morning at the start, you had yet to utter a word to anyone in the room. More than likely due to the fact that you were attempting to avoid slamming your head into the table to stay awake or knock yourself out at this annoying meeting. Who has meetings in the morning!

“What was that, Young Lady?”

The four men in the room who had been in this battle with you started to correct the Viscount again, only to stop as you interjected quickly before they could come to your rescue.

You turned toward the old man, you remained sitting worried that if you had stood you were going to either start running out the room to find a place to nap or was going to fall asleep on your heeled feet, still, your voice was loud, stern and very fed up.

“I know of more honor than you shall ever. You have discussed me time and time again, and quite frankly Viscount you disgust me. Would you prefer I list your shortcomings this time around,” You sneered, not giving the man a chance to respond as you begun your eyes never turning from the man, “You’re quite irrational, that is when you show up to work. Let me ask you a question, who sit at your desk while your people are wondering how to overcome a wildfire, or when the harvest it low, or a wild behemoth is keeping shipments from appear?

“As everyone, including us “commoners” are well aware that you are simply not there, I would not justify that as a decent leadership, when those around you are required to take over your problems time and again as you are too lazy to do it yourself.

“ You request charity from those around with no promise of return or means to pay it forward. Unlike your Father, are you in fear that you will pass with irrelevance, as that is where you are headed.” You hissed not allowing the man to get a word in edgewise, before smugly adding with narrow eyes. “You have called me amoral, a disgrace to the crown, and a lowly commoner, simple words of a man with nothing more to do with his time. I recommend that you be careful of how you proceed, Viscount, you have stated prior, one of us knows not the meanings of honor and loyalty, and I believe only one of us in this room has had quite a few mistresses and disloyalties to our significant others. Do send regards to Vanessa, she is the entire reason that you are not in tatters as is and the only reason your people do not leave or better yet over through you!

“Now would you prefer that I continue on with your other transgressions as we have yet to go deeper into your sexism, disloyalty, and quite easily a disgrace to your family's’ name or shall we continue with this meeting, as some of us do have a job to do and would prefer not to stay in the company of one as such, Viscount Phipps.”

The entire room was stunned, Noctis, Regis, Clarus, and Gladiolus were staring at you in shock and trying to hide their laughter behind fake coughing fits and closed fists, as the others were caught between staring at you and the Viscount waiting for the man to retort. Instead, he could only sputter and had turned actually rather red face before sitting down quickly.

After the air had cleared, the meeting was quickly over with many almost slip up and suppressed laughter from Regis and Noctis when they glanced towards the Viscount who had remained rather silent for the rest of the meeting.

Yourself and Noctis moving to one of the waiting rooms for either Ignis or Clara to take you home, you draped across your future husband’s lap, almost asleep until Clara enter.

“What did you do?” She gasped.

“Dammit, it Gladio.” You muttered towards the shield who was sitting on the other side of the room. “We had a deal.”

“Sorry Princess, that was too funny to not tell them. Wish I had recorded it.”

You playfully cut your eyes to the man, before looking to Clara refusing to get up from your pillow on Noctis lap, “He’s been messing with me for weeks, besides he was a Baron before he married Viscount Vanessa like he has any room to talk. Plus I’m sleepy I’ve been awake since 6, that’s not a time people are awake.” You whined playfully to the woman.

Clara stared at you before giggling, she always knew you weren’t a morning person, “I guess I always did tell you to stand up to bullies, just tell me you didn’t curse at him, please.”

“She didn’t need to,” Noctis responded as you beamed up to him, he was typically the one that jumped to your rescue when the Viscount started to pick at you. “That was awesome.”

“You told me so.” You cooed, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand that you were holding. Only for everyone to turn as the door open, stepping in Regis and Clarus.

“I’m happy to have caught you both before you left,” Regis stated, as you finally rolled off your fiancee to stand and curtsy to the man. “Princess…”

You moved forward looked up to the King beyond your eyelashes expecting to get scolded since Clara hadn’t really torn into you. “Dad, I didn’t…”

Regis placed his hand on your head as he chuckled loudly, “The look on the Viscount’s face was perfect. I can not begin to tell you how hard it was not to laugh.”

You beamed up to the man, “I promise to not drag him as hard next time.”

Clarus chuckled, “I don’t think there’s going to be a next time. First time Viscount Phipps was silent an entire meeting and we actually got work done. I think you should be in more meetings.”

The face you pulled must have given your answer, as Regis and Clarus chuckled loudly.

☆ 163 Stars ☆

“Where were you today?” Noctis asked as you plopped on the couch finally free of your dress of the day.

“I spent the day with the Guard.”

“What?” He inquired moving his head to your lap, as you pulled a blanket around the both of you.

“Yeah, we went on a hunt, or maybe it was recon. I went with a few of them, Nyx, Crowe, Libertus, Oh Gladio and Lucet showed up too.”

Noctis blinked in confusion, “Any reason you did that?”

“I like them.” You smiled. “Oh, but you have to promise not to tell Clara or Ignis.”

“Tell them what?” He asked as you shoved your phone in his face, once everything focused he was face to face with you and the others sitting before a behemoth. “You guys fought a behemoth?”

“Well, the others kept getting in the way, they said they were trying to protect me, that is until I warped on top of it.” You giggled. “Then the screaming started.”

“Screaming?”

“Well, I think Lucet and Crowe were screaming at me to take it down, but both Nyx and Gladio were yelling at me to get down, and how you and Dad were going to kill them.” You explained, trying to find something to watch. “But the look on their face when I took it down with that fancy slash The Tall taught me was worth it. Poor Libertus looked like he was going to faint. I think I’ll grab the barrack a treat to apologize for the spook. Does Iggy know how many people are in the Guard right now?”

“More than likely.”

☆ 98 Stars ☆

“Noctis, what are you looking at?” Clara inquired turning towards the Prince, as she was out with him and Ignis to get the Prince’s tuxedo for his wedding in a few months. Yet the Prince was currently leaning out his fitting appointment trying to take a picture of something.

“Right, typically the Princess keeps her phone on silent.” Ignis chuckled, “I believe they as well as Prompto and Amor are in a chat where they send each other animals they see around the city.”

“Really, can I see?” Clara asked as the Prince moved over showing her his phone and the most recent of posts. “Oh this is the absolute cutest, did you know that your bride tried hiding a Chocobo in the house when she was in High School.”

Noctis chuckled, “What?”

“I believe I have the picture around here somewhere.” She stated scrolling through her phone, before showing Noctis a picture of you, in your High School uniform alongside Amor, both of you holding a pair of Chocobo chicks. “I still to this day have no idea why that thought I wouldn’t hear the peeping.”

Noctis turned to Clara, he still could not understand your relationship. Clara had stated that she was your Lady in Waiting, yet you were both almost the same age. Granted he and Ignis were as well, yet Clara moved you, the both of you to the Kingdom when you were both preteens. How did the two of you live and survive, prior to her getting the job at the Citadel?

“I have reached out to every Chocobo farm, ranch, racers, and rescue within 50 miles of the wedding venue to not sell Prompto any Chocobos for the wedding,” Clara stated.

“Did you have a vision of that, My Dear?” Ignis inquired

“Oh no, Prompto just really loves Chocobos.” She stated before giggling fondly. “I mean everyone does, yet I can only deal with him crying about one thing that day, he’s just so emotional.”

“You really enjoy Prompto.”

“I’m rather fond of all of you actually,” Clara winked to Noctis.

☆ 50 Stars ☆

He could hear it, he heard it the second you walked into the house. When you opened the door and sighed softly. He heard it when you began to remove the heavy dress and the sounds of your heels clicking on the floor. Followed by one single heel, as you begun to remove the last of your clothing, making your way to the bedroom.

It did not take him but a second to find his way into the room after you following your trail of discard clothing, you had collapsed on his side of the bed, face buried within his pillow, and without a blanket.

This didn’t stop the man as he moved to the bed after you, blanketing your body with his own. Careful to not crush you, as he nuzzled into your hair until you turned your head pressing a kiss to his cheek with a pleased hum.

He knew this was tough on you, but still, you always took it in stride and he loves that about you.

☆ 17 Stars ☆

It suddenly dawned on him, as he made his way home after being separated for more than 48 hours. Prince Noctis could not, and did not wish to be away from you very long. He asked you time and time again if you were really fine with the two of you taking two different caravans to your wedding destination of Altissa.

Each time you smiled, stating you would love to ride with him, but you didn’t think that eight people would be able to fit into the Regalia together. Besides you, both could always call and talk to each other on the road. Maybe you could both have a little pre-honeymoon on the beach.

“Will you require me to walk you up?” Ignis inquired, opening the door as the Prince stepped out.

“No, I’ll be fine,” Noctis stated, all but pushing his oldest friend out the way. Nearly slamming into Carla as she moved to greet him.

“She’s sleeping, I suggest you do the same. Have a nice evening Noctis.”

If his leg wasn’t acting up, he would have sprinted up the stairs to the apartment, but he’d have to settle for this stupidly slow elevator. Gladiolus had always stated that when the Prince became obsessed with something he wouldn’t give it up.

He opened the door to the apartment, to home, well anywhere was home so long as your scent was there to greet him. He by-passed the kitchen that held his dinner for the evening. He by-passed the game station that you had taken to playing out of bored after asking him to get you the latest Tag Tournament game, where you gave even Prompto a run for his money, and had unlocked all the characters in one evening.

He pushed open the bedroom door, watching as the hallway light spilled into the room. You were laying directly in the middle of the bed, hair everywhere, mouth open in a soft adorable snore, arm over your head blankets everywhere.

You looked so beautiful!

He moved as quietly across the room as he could, stripping himself of the expensive suit that had no business being in the heaven the two of you created. As he moved to climb into the bed to give you a good night kiss, before going to get something to eat, only to chuckle at the fact that you were wearing one of his shirts to bed. The moment his lips pressed against your cheek did his smile widen as you muttered his name.

“I love you so much.”

He watched as you slowly came back to the waking world, a lazy smile across your face, as your eyes focused on the man before you. “Noct…” You cooed, opening your arms as he crawled into them without a second thought. “Did you just get home?”

“Yeah,” He smiled softly, as he felt you pressing kiss after kiss against his face. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

You giggled with a shrugged, turning to the clock seeing that it was 3 am, “Did you eat?”

“Nah, I was about to.”

So that’s how the two of you sat in the living room, eating the leftover warmed up food from Clara. Sharing silly giggles, and holding each other hands, nuzzling into one another, before returning back to bed, entwined until the following day’s afternoon.

☆ 5 Stars ☆

“…and I shall do my best to honor not only my future Husband and this Kingdom and all we hold dear. I shall promise to be worthy of this crown, and of your respect…”

Noctis watched as you gave you first public address to the masses, your head held high, you gaze stern yet kind. He loved every part of this Queen that would rule beside him. He moved from where he waited patiently in the wings, being escorted off the stage beside Gladiolus.

“You were absolutely radiant, Princess.” Ignis smiled.

Noctis watched as you reached out your hands towards him, he immediately took them without a moment’s hesitation. Only to find them shaking rather hard as you, held him tightly, “Y/N…”

“Thank you, am I un-mic’d?” You inquired.

“Yes,” Clara stated, as she begun to remove the wireless mic from your dress top, and removing some of the heavier parts of your attire.

“Good, cause I’m gonna go throw up.”

Everyone watched as you hiked up your skirts and quickly moved out the room.

“She never was good with public speaking.” Amor giggled.

“That is something we will have to fix.” Clara sighed softly.

☆ 0 Stars ☆

You smiled pressing a kiss to Noctis lips again, as you followed him toward the stairs leading to the Regalia. Wearing another beautiful dress that he had picked out for you as an early wedding present. When you were asked why you allowed Noctis to pick out things for you, you had often stated.

“I’m just a commoner, I’m not certain what is and isn’t good to wear. When Noctis picks my clothes than I know that I’m impressing the only person I like to impress, besides I get to pick out his suits.”

You stood aside as your future husband, bid farewell to his Father for the time being. You caught the way that Regis looked to you, a sad look within his eye, something that had been constantly there in the later days. You moved over as the King beckoned you over, smiling as Noctis quickly took your hand.

“You both have made me so proud.” Regis smiled.

“Dad.” You cooed, feeling tears spring into your eyes.

Noctis rolled his eyes.

Regis placed a hand on Noctis’s shoulder, you watched as that sad look appeared on his face for just moment only to be replaced with the look of a kind Father, “Take heed. Never bow out of what you begin. So long as you carry the blood royal, so long as you carry my name…carry your head high.”

You noticed Noctis about to respond, only to squeeze his hand, “We don’t wanna keep them, Dad.” You smiled.

“Of course, Sweetheart.” Regis chuckled, turning back to his son, “You’ve picked a wonderful bride, and Queen, My Son. I shall protect her until she is back with you.”

This time you couldn’t help the tears, quickly wiping them away. Why were you crying?

“Are you sure?” Noctis asked once again as you followed him to the bottom of the stairs, flanked by your Lady in waiting.

You smiled softly, “Go have fun with the boys. Besides I don’t think both Carla and myself can fit in the car.”

“We can always tie Gladio to the roof,” Noctis stated.

“That would be so rude.”

“To Gladio or the Regalia?”

“Noctis.” You gasped playfully. “Go have fun with the boys, I’ll see you soon, and when we get home we’ll celebrate.”

Noctis smiled as he leaned forward pressing a kiss to your lips, wanting to stay in the moment forever. Only for the two of you to break apart at the whoops and hollering of Gladiolus and Prompto, who was snapping away.

“I’ll see you soon, Sweetie.” You cooed, as he climbed into the car. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

You moved back up the stairs to stand beside Regis, unable to watch the car drive away, only to stop and stare in shock at the forms of the Kings of the Past stood all of their eyes trained to the black car disappearing down the street.

“Sweetheart,” Regis called.

You blinked shaking your head as you picked up your skirts, before moving up to his side, “Sorry, Dad got a teary there.”

Regis chuckled holding out his arm as you linked your arm into his own, “I’ll make certain that you are with Noctis soon.”

You did not miss the way the eyes of the Past Kings turned to you, each hidden underneath their armor as if they were ready for battle. Your grip on Regis’s arm tighten as you felt a surge of energy move through you.

You spared a glance through the large doors that so many years of powerful Kings and Queens entered and exited. Those same Kings and Queens that turned to you now, with the familiar need to protect no matter what the end result would come to.

As the doors closed, you turned back to the King beside you, the strong arm underneath your own. Still, the feeling of unease did not leave you, as you watched the last bit of the bright star disappear behind that closing door. One word spilled from your lips as you realized what it was that was to be protected.

“Noctis.”

Nox S Sidere

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