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#or something about showing a blind man every delicate and vulnerable part of yourself
banmitbandit · 2 years
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he thinks he’s wonderful.
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ayamturd · 3 years
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coward│technoblade
summary: despite choosing to abandon a meaningless war, y/n finds they can't escape their emotions and past
warnings: light angst, blood/injury, slight spoilers to dsmp
pairing: in-game technoblade
a/n: none, hope you enjoy :)
wc: (1.7k) - m.list
reconcile - pt two
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With a content sigh, you lowered yourself into the steaming bath. 
Your tense back eased in the boiled water, tight limbs relaxing and becoming loose with every given second. It had been a productive day; from traveling to a village located on the far east coast of your home to trade for rare enchantments, to completing the final exterior of your farm, you felt the need to reward yourself with a heated bath. While it had taken time to hand heat each cauldron of water and transfer it to the tub, the ends were justifiable as you lowered yourself further to embrace the stinging warmth. 
Head tilted back with eyes closed, the water met your grimy hair and soothed each strand, practically massaging your tender scalp. You welcomed the feeling with a groan, embracing yourself under the water surface to gather more warmth as if it were possible. 
As you reached over the table behind you for the essential oils you recently traded, the rattle of your locked front door echoed throughout your house before strong banging replaced the sound. Opening your eyes slowly, you paused to think to yourself. No one should be here. 
It had been months since you had been forced to move out on your own, but in that time you had yet to tell anyone of your location, deeming it unsafe until you understood who stood where and for what. A warrior with no war to fight and sides that demanded blood for precariously unjust reasons, you knew when to take a stand and when to take leave from a battle that would only end in loss.
Brisk knocks impeded your thoughts, the unknown intruder seemingly becoming more impatient with each rapid knock. You quickly raised yourself out of the tub and rushed to change into anything appropriate before confronting the possible assailant. Grabbing the closest weapon, it being your crossbow, you loaded a poisoned tip arrow in case of subduing the target and crept towards the front door. The pounding knocks had lost strength by then, but you were still on edge and pushed yourself against the door, listening for any threatening movement. 
The silence continued to ring, and while you trained yourself to be patient in the face of danger, you decided to strike first. Gripping the door handle, you clenched the knob and breathed in before unlocking and swinging it open, crossbow aimed as you met the cool air. 
The forest was cold at this time. The thick massive branches upon each tree shielded any below from the moonlight, encasing the woodland in darkness and leaving all as blind prey to monsters that roamed the night. While cautious enough to light the vicinity surrounding your home to ward off creatures, you knew better than to light enough lanterns to invite wanders near your home. Given those precautions, you were surprised to be met with the sight of someone injured on your front porch, someone you knew and dreaded at that. 
Laying there before you was the legendary, pink haired Blood God himself, the man slumped on the wooden stairs, axe beside him, currently bleeding out. 
Shaking off the initial shock at the sight of him, you scanned the immediate area of the landscape before racing to aid the half-piglin. 
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Despite being aware of his genetics and built strength, you didn’t anticipate how heavy he would be from simply dragging him into the living space. Huffing strangled breaths, you dropped him near the fire place and rushed to build the fire before assessing his injuries. 
At quick glance, you could discern the bloody claw marks that tore through his clothes and ran predominantly deep along his neck line; however, upon closer inspection you noticed an arrow wound below his breastplate that he must have pulled out in adrenaline during the encounter. He was ambushed and surrounded in the dark of the night. 
While you knew he could defend himself in almost any situation, you also knew that anyone with even the best skillset could struggle against an uneven matched mob of ravage, mindless beasts. You grabbed the necessary first-aid supplies and equipment, as well as your saved healing potion you brewed for such an occasion, before kneeling to address the wounds.
Soaking a clean rag with the glimmering, vibrant red brew, you took the remaining concoction within the glass and tilted it into his agape mouth, hand beneath his raised head as you positioned him enough to unconsciously swallow. Once you were certain he could internally heal from the damage, you removed his armor and worked to clean and heal the largest wounds while preparing to stitch him close. Even breaths and the occasional fire crackle filled the empty silence, though you were too focused to notice, attention solely on the gory sight until the final knot tie. After that, you finished wrapping his torso and bandaged the smaller cuts. 
Letting out a sigh of relief from completing the harrowing task, you rubbed your forehead in exhaustion before scanning him once over. You paused as you settled on his face, his expression calm and in eery peace despite his condition and the blood that still coated his cheeks. Staring at him for some time, you rose to walk into the kitchen and filled a small bowl with clean water, returning to settle back down next to him and wringing the copper stained rag in the bowl before dabbing the towel along his features. 
You couldn’t help but observe his handsome face, taking in each scar and the light stubble growing from his chin to neck. His eyelashes fluttered as you gently brushed each streak away while his lips were slanted in a thin line in spite of each small graze above them. The faint lighting complimented his every angle, giving him a soft, heavenly glow that radiated his beauty. You had obviously noted his attractiveness from afar before, it being almost impossible to ignore. Even so, none of those past moments allowed you to look close enough to recognize the delicate details that adorned his face and gave character beyond his striking personality.
Regardless of the fact that you were never romantically involved, you had held a past with Technoblade before your departure. From the very moment he had arrived to aid his brothers in combat, you both grew a mutual respect for one another, on the battlefield in addition to each other’s presence. He showed loyalty beyond political matters and relied on intelligence besides power when in combat against another. His compassion to those dear to him was distinct yet subtle, and he never failed to compliment you with every win during sparing matches with humility and constructive praise. As time continued on and the war became costly, you soon realized you had fallen for him in the midst of conflict. Even if there was no greater battle in the forefront, the idea of admitting your vulnerability scared you beyond admission. Never, in your life, had you have to come to terms for caring about or for someone that it weakened and consumed your mentality entirely. He inhabited every thought, every choice you made from then, and it only escalated your inner conflict from there.
Wilbur Soot and Tommyinnit had been your closets allies before the election; they relied on you as much as you relied on them. While you had pledged allegiance to them initially, you couldn’t help but doubt their motives as war became imminent, especially when Wilbur devolved into something unrecognizable. The past became a feeble attachment as Wilbur lost his drive and sanity while Tommy was still a child, too young to face more bloodshed, let alone his second time. 
When you originally confided your opinions to him, Technoblade had comforted you. He validated your viewpoints and basically agreed with every impression you made; however, he did nothing to support any action to prevent the warfront. While you had always admired his dedication towards his own principles in life, you saw them then as a fault for he refused to abandoned the lost cause in hopes of further proving his agenda against governmental authority that destabilize a people and ideal. It hurt to admit your fears and for him to not follow suit, especially when you expressed your desires to abandon the cause entirely. 
You had fought against him on it for weeks until he snapped one day. 
He said things to you that stung, calling you an enemy that didn’t fight for anyone but yourself. It was the first time he raised his voice at you threateningly and that you were genuinely afraid of him. Eyes a dangerous, deep red, Technoblade stood above you in a light you had never seen; you now understood why he was feared in opposition. You cowered, taking in all of his harsh words as if a child were berated for their choices and wants. His words cut deep, yet his final ones hurt the most. 
“If you want to be a coward, then leave.” 
And leave you did. 
His face held no remorse then, and with burning eyes and an aching heart you ran and never turned back. A small part of you wished you had admitted what you felt, yet in the end, his actions spoke loud enough for you to understand what he thought of you, and you proved it to yourself when conciously running away from it all: you were a coward afraid of their own emotions.
While Technoblade gave you reason to leave, you justified your departure to your own understanding. Your loyalties lied with the people instead of the endgame, yet the ones who you thought would stand by you seemed more driven for their own victory than a defining purpose. You wanted no part of it.
Glancing up when he started to shift in his sleep, you realized you were crying from the sudden recollection. It had been some time since you thought of your past, his simple presence bringing back unwanted and ashamed memories. Wiping the fallen tears harshly, you noticed your hands were caked in his blood and scowled in distain of the overwhelming smell.
Deciding it would be best to stay up and watch over him for the night, you got up to properly clean yourself and change. Before you could leave the room, however, you made the effort to lay a blanket over Techno and rest a pillow beneath his unruly hair, purposely undoing his braid and tenderly combing through the tangled locks. 
He softly hummed from your touch and leaned into your palm, your fingers freezing from the movement. It was a sight to see the ever so violent ‘Blood God’ unguarded from your affections, and the thought alone discouraged you more. Even after running all this way, I still can’t escape you, huh?
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pure-kirarin · 3 years
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Silvers Rayleigh x f! insecure reader (tw)
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A/N: Please someone make gifs with young Rayleigh from today’s episode. I beg you. So okay, this is a young rayleigh x reader because the ep made me thirst for him... Enjoy :B LOVE YOURSELF everyone. Have some Rayleigh wisdom your way~ 
Warning: body dysmorphia / VERY sweet Rayleigh 
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« I am sorry. I don't feel like it tonight. »
You say as you push Rayleigh gently away from you. You were sitting on his lap and things were taking a rather interesting turn. However, when his hand slid gently under your sweatshirt, you begun to feel self consciousness crawl into your head. The damn dark thoughts erupted in your brain like dark fog, stopping you from thinking straight.
Don't think. Don't think. Don't think.
You try to suppress the thoughts, of how unworthy you are to be with such a good-looking man. Of how disgusting and sorry you feel. Guilty for your own existence, sorry that he has to be with someone like you, as if he haven’t chose you, as if he didn't see the beauty within you.
All logic has left your destructive mind. A strong desire to run away and hide under the sheets stroke you. You refused opening up about this, you didn't want to seem like an annoyance or an unconfident little girl in front of him.
He was much older than you, much more experienced. He must have known all types of women. He could have any of them at the snap of his fingers. Why were you the one for him ? What was it that he saw in you ?
« -(Y/N), are you okay ?  he frowns, taking off his hand immediately.
-I am sorry, I-I don't feel my best. »
You look away, you didn't want to see his handsome face, it only made you feel worse. You felt self-conscious, as if he had never touched you before. You instinctively wrapped your arms around your upper-body, muscles clenching. When you try to jerk away from his lap, his arm held you firmly, pulling you closer to him.
Irises in irises, your face was just a breath away from his. You were frightened that he might see the distress in your eyes and feel your insecurity. You weren't comfortable yet sharing that vulnerable side of you. He was good, too good, and you didn't want to show him that weakness. Your eyes sway back and forth, unsure where to look while his narrowed. His voice came, assertive.
-Anything you need to tell me ?
It wasn't really a question but rather an order. He knew something was wrong, you felt naked under his piercing gaze. There is no way to hide anything from a man like him. Your lips parted, trying to say something. You hesitated then just said ;
-Nothing. I'm just not in the mood. 
-Don't lie to me, (Y/N). You can tell me anything. His voice was now nothing but a whisper. Trust me.
He puts a strand of hair behind your ear and says ;
-What's bothering my princess ?
That nickname out of his lips sounded like a magical spell, making you relax instantly, trust him more. You were the one he chose. Even in this moment, he considered you as his princess. You drown your head in his neck, unable to face him. Your hands start to play nervously with the fabric of his shirt.
Rayleigh started stroking your back gently, as if he was inviting you to open up and to drop the defenses. His steady breathing, delicate feel and distinct fragrance were soothing and pacifying your soul. You burried your nose in his blond locks, inhaling the fern and incense mix with every breath.
-You're too good for me...Rayleigh...I feel ugly and...Unworthy of you...I hate the way my body looks and feels...I feel so sorry that you have to be with me...
You couldn't help but feel some tears start pearling in the corner of your eyes, leaving wet areolas on flowery-printed shirt. You sighed and mumbled in an almost inaudible voice, full of shame ;
-These last days I just feel so terrible about myself. I feel trapped in this body. I don't like looking at it. I feel ashamed. I feel disgusted. I feel like I don't deserve to be loved, let alone loved by someone like you. You are strong...You say as you tug on the fabric of his shirt -You are handsome and you are popular around girls...What are you doing with someone like me, Rayleigh ?
As an answer to your soft sobs, Rayleigh can't help but laugh. No, it wasn't a mocking laugh at all. It was one of disbelief, an endearing one. He laughed like he was faced with a kid saying nonsense. Or more like he knew too well what you were feeling. Your cheeks were now flushed out of embarrassment. You didn't understand his reaction at first. Was he...Laughing at you ? You straighten out your neck now looking into his ebony orb.
He wipes out a tear off your cheek with his thumb and spoke ;
« -Sometimes I forget the age difference between us. But here you remind me of it. There is no need for you to feel this way, little fawn, you are stunning. Here. »
To your surprise, he gets up from the chair you were both sitting on. You hold on to him pretty tight so you don't fall, unsure about what he is about to do. He goes in front of the big mirror that was in the corner of his cabine. You reach out for the floor.
«-Take a good look. You are gorgeous. »
He positions himself behind you and envelops you in his arms. His lips start laying silky kisses on your skin, making you embarrassed. The sight made you feel embarrassed and uncomfortable.
« -This is the girl I am in love with. Every part of you just drives me insane. You are a young woman, still blind to your own charm. So I need to show it to you. »
His reaction was unexpected and turned you into a blushing mess. He puts his hands on your shoulders ;
« I want you to look at yourself everyday and remember that you are in one hand, and that all the other women in the world are in another. 
-Wow...Rayleigh... »
Your eyes widened and you felt your heart drop as he said these word in a voice so suave that it felt indecent. You didn't know that the man was so good with words. He caught you offgard.
«-Don't say such thiings. » You whine, hiding your face in embarrasment, turning around and hiding your face on his chest.  « It's embarrassing. »
« Well, since you don't know your worth, I will have to remind you everyday till you never forget about it. »
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paper-n-ashes · 3 years
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Here
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Characters: Dan Jones x Reader
Words: 1.9k
Warnings/Tags: Explicit (18+), mentions of sadness/depression, PIV sex, otherwise it’s the fluffiest fluffy fluff
Author’s Note: The last repost. A piece I wrote to work through my own issues at the time. A reminder to anyone, if you feel down, unhappy, or even just a bit flat, feel free to reach out to me. I will always make time for you as an ear to listen or a distraction with Oscar or Adam gifs 🥰
It had been a long and draining day. Not unusual really. Every evening Dan trudged up the stairs to your shared apartment, he felt much the same way.
Tired. More emotionally than physically. The things he read, the truths he was unravelling… It was truly soul-sucking work. Yet just the image of you, patiently waiting for his return home after another late night, provided a stark light in the darkness he found himself momentarily falling into as his muffled footsteps echoed down the hall.
He knew he was lucky. Lucky you were so patient. So understanding. Always waiting on him. Spending more time apart than together. The cancelled dinner dates, the events you’d had to attend alone, the weekends away you never got to plan, believing his work was more important.
There wasn’t a single time you complained. Always giving him the same loving smile, one he wasn’t sure how he deserved.
It wasn’t on your face when he slipped through the door. Curled up on the couch, knees hugged to your chest, you looked… sad.
Noticing his entrance, your expression quickly changed, beaming as your eyes locked with his. “Dan,” you breathed, a relieved edge to the name, releasing yourself from the tense ball and rushing to join him at the entryway.
The room was dim, air filled with silence as you slinked your arms under the jacket of his suit and around his torso, squeezing tight.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“You don’t need to say that every night,” you urged, words muffled into his chest.
“I know.” He still would, no matter how much you protested. Stroking a palm over your hair, Dan touched his lips to your forehead. For a moment, he simply breathed you in. Relishing the flowered perfume still lingering on your skin that would forever remind him of you.
It was such an unexplainable phenomenon. How you eased his stress with a single warm embrace. He hoped he could do the same for you.
“Is everything alright?” he asked softly.
“Absolutely,” you lied, nodding against his crisp, collared shirt. “You’re home now. Everything is just fine.”
Dan couldn’t help but smile at the sweetness of your response. But he also wasn’t stupid. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
You shifted your head to look up at him. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”
There was a redness around your eyes that became glaringly clear. Crying. You’d definitely been crying.
A thumb traced the line under your lower lid. “Please don’t lie. I have to deal with enough of those every day.”
Your mouth twisted, feeling your throat tighten. Unknowingly, he’d illustrated exactly why you tried to hide your sadness in the first place. He didn’t need your burden. He already had enough weighing on his shoulders.
But you also knew he wouldn’t let this go. The man was a bloodhound for seeking the truth, and the way he was looking at you now, features filled with heartbreaking concern, your resolve weakened.
Taking a deep breath, you were honest. “I’ve just been feeling a little… sad lately. Not a big deal. It’ll pass.”
Dan’s eyebrows drew together, heart already aching at your admission. “How long have you been feeling like this?”
You shrugged, pupils darting to the floor. “A few days. As I said, not a big deal. Nothing you need to worry about.”
Two palms quickly found their way to your cheeks, forcing your stares to lock. He looked almost panicked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You’ve got other things that need your attention-”
“You think your sadness is not worth my attention?” he cut off, positively stunned at how casually you’d spoken your answer.
It’s what he’s always feared. This. Shielding him from the troubles in your own life while you joined in fighting his. Being his remedy, his source of comfort, while you struggled alone.
“It’s okay,” you attempted to soothe. “I can handle it myself, really.”
He shook his head. “No. No. You shouldn’t have to.”
Your fingers grazed lightly over the clean-shaven line of his jaw. “You’re so busy-”
The sentence couldn’t be finished, pulled into a squeezing embrace, hands cradling around you. “I will never be too busy when you really need me. Ever.” Breaths began to waft over your hair, Dan’s voice riddled with a gentle urgency. “And I’m here right now. Tell me how to make this better. Please.”
His caring hold had your resilience failing, unable to camouflage the misery you’d been feeling any longer. “I don’t even know h-how… What I need…” you quivered, voice starting to break. A sniffle escaped, barely able to suppress the urge to cry.
Dan wasn’t ever particularly good at solving problems. He knew that. Finding them, providing the support others needed to take action, that was his sweet spot. What he was good at. So that’s what he would do now.
The pressure around your body vanished, only for Dan to dip down and pluck you into in his arms, bridal style, carrying your body effortlessly to the bedroom.
His movements were cautious, making sure to place you delicately into the mattress. Without removing a single piece of clothing, shoes still on, he laid down, making your shape curl into his.
“We’re going to lay here for a while, okay? However long you want. You don’t have to talk. You can just… be sad.” Another kiss landed on the top of your head. “If you need me to do something, if you figure out what might help, I’ll be here. I’ll be right here.”
That did it. The wall you had been forcing to remain standing, now a crumbling pile of rocks, leaving you exposed. Vulnerable.
You began to cry.
At first, it was a soft weeping, tears wiped away by your own shaky fingers. Yet restraint withered into nothing, succumbing to the gloom that had haunted you for days.
Your breaths were harsh through heaving sobs, first clutching into Dan’s shirt, salted droplets staining the white fabric.
He couldn’t deny, it was painful to see you like this. To hear the whimpers of your distress. A slight wetness appeared at his corner of his eyes, clutching you closer. It was all he could do. Remind you of his presence, stroking your back as you let your emotions spill over.
As minutes passed into the next, your crying slowed, yet the quietness that followed was never broken. You both remained muted in the darkness, a tangle of limbs, your face nestled into Dan’s neck, his cheek resting over your hair.
Soon, without intention, the two of you fell asleep.
*
It was close to 3am when you woke again. Blinking through the haze of slumber, Dan rustled next to you, still fully dressed in his work attire.
Recent memories came surging through, the way he’d given you everything you needed, by doing nearly nothing at all.
Illuminated only by the light streaming through a set of half open blinds, your eyes wandered over his peaceful, dreaming face.
You didn’t get to see it as often as you liked. But when you did, you were infinitely grateful. Every long absence kept you savouring the time together more deeply. Quality over quantity.
A crackled snore suddenly broke through, having you fighting back a laugh. Dan shifted, still unconscious, turning closer into you, draping an arm over your waist. With a humming sound, you noticed a tiny smile curl his lips.
Oh, how you loved him.
You wanted to show him that, right now.
Carefully, you wriggled upwards, enough that you could press a dainty kiss just above the bridge of his nose. When he didn’t respond, you repeated the action, bringing your fingertips to his hairline, nails skimming over the inky strands.
You watched as his eyes fluttered, a sigh leaking from his throat. Before he could enter back into reality again, your lips landed on his, rolling over the supple pillows of flesh.
His reaction was sluggish, still gripped by a fog of fatigue, although soon his fingers were reaching into your hair, pulling your face even closer to strengthen your adoring kiss.
Words weren’t needed, Dan realised this as you began to unfasten the knot of his tie.
You’d figured out something he could do. Funnily enough, it was what he needed too. To make sure you knew exactly how much he loved you.
You’d done this dance many times, peeling off each other’s clothes. Yet this time felt… different. There was no rushing, no impatience. You both took your time, uncovering each portion of skin without reckless abandon.
With more exposure, Dan had more parts of you to kiss. So he did. Trailing them down your arms, your legs, his touch skating over your skin with such tenderness it made you shiver.
Eventually, the last piece of clothing that remained was your panties. Usually, being so desperate to fuck you after days going without, they’d be ripped off, sometimes even pulled to the side in his hastiness to fill you.
This time their removal was unhurried, restrained, Dan gliding the flimsy material down your legs with a calm poise.
Below, you noticed his touch disappear, looking up to see his stare roaming over your bareness.
So beautiful, he thought. Your body bathed in moonlight. While he wanted to speak it out loud, there was something poignant about the way the silence had continued to linger. He didn’t want to disturb it.
Instead, Dan covered your figure with his, skin to skin, scooping hands under you jaw. Another collision of your lips ensued, the exchange unabashedly passionate and filled an emotion too intricate to name.
Within an unspoken moment of harmony, Dan moved, lining himself to your entrance between your opened legs.
You’d been taken by him many times. In the bathroom stall on your first date. Over tables. On chairs. Floors. Kitchen counters. Countless times in this very bedroom. On this very mattress.
None of those scenes produced the same sense of satisfaction you felt as he sunk into you now. Not from the sensation itself, but the meaning behind it.
Words were fickle. They could be misconstrued. Altered by tone. Changed by moods and attitudes.
The way Dan began to thrust, steady yet severe, bruises being made from his grip at your back, kiss consuming your mouth and every facet of your thoughts…
There was no differing interpretation. No miscommunication. The definition explained merely by the feeling invoked from every action each of you made.
Two people. Expressing love in the most basal way in existence.
For a long time, longer than previous encounters, Dan worked himself in and out, relishing the feeling of your silky wetness, the whimpers he heard with each drag of his length.
Although, the feel of you clenching around him, when your thighs wrapped around his hips to to force his pelvis into yours with increasing intensity, soon had Dan struggling to stave off his release.
He didn’t ask to let it overtake him. Somehow, he knew didn’t need to.
Hurdling into a decadent climax, Dan drove hard into you, painting the deepest parts of your centre, filling you with everything he could give.
Slumping into your form, his nose burrowed into the curve between neck and shoulder. “I know I’m not always here,” he murmured. “But I’ll always be here. For you. Please remember that.”
Fingers swept over his messed hair. “I don’t think you’ll let me forget.”
One final kiss brushed over your throat. “Never again.”
*
@tlcwrites @roanniom @maryforyou @mariesackler @sacklerscumrag @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @finn-ray-nal-beads @mylifeisactuallyamess @hopeamarsu @foxilayde @goddesstonythetiger @caillea @direnightshade @blackberries45
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cycat4077 · 3 years
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When the Time is Right
Summary: Is it time to take your relationship to the next level?  Set at the start of S18 - roughly August 2016. Pairing: Sonny x Reader Warnings: Mature themes...of the NSFW variety, some cussing, fluff, feels, etc. Words: 1927 AO3 here
Technically part 12 in the Changes verse, but can act as a stand-alone.
Consider this a Valentine’s day themed thingy even though it’s set in August 🥰
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"It's weird I guess," you say in between sips of tea, "how some parts of our relationship have happened so quickly, like meeting his parents right away, while other parts of it aren't rushed at all. For instance, the two of us were complete idiots and it took a couple of months to formally say ‘I love you’." The admission makes you chuckle, but as you look up from your drink, the devious grin pasted across your friend’s face tells you that she’s hung up on one small detail.
"You guys haven't done it yet, have you?" blurts Sydney, sitting wide-eyed across from you on her sofa.
You're normally a pretty private person so you can't help it when your cheeks start to burn, effectively giving away your secret.
"You haven't!" she exclaims, eagerly setting down her teacup, ready for details.
"Syd!"
The blonde raises her arms in mock defense. "Hey, hey! There's nothing wrong with it but it's kind of a rarity to not be in each other's pants by now!"
You grow even more self-conscious, tracing the rim of your mug handle as a distraction.
"Listen,” Sydney begins sternly, “he's super nice to you and charming and sweet, so I just wanna make sure he's not -"
But you interrupt her before she can make the accusation. "Sonny isn't like that," you state, adopting a firm tone of your own. "We just haven't gotten there yet...there's been no rush. I feel totally comfortable around Sonny and he's never once made me feel like we should be doing anything."
"Good," she asserts. "I just want to make sure you're not being played because the good ones are really hard to find."
Ever since you met in college, Sydney has been fiercely protective of you, and clearly that side of her is something that's never changed. Despite her thirst for details, you also know that you can truly trust her so you suppose there's no harm in opening up a little. "I mean, it's not like I haven't thought about it,” you confess sheepishly. “I went on the pill not long after we started dating because you never know, but our lives have been so busy and messy. Especially this summer. We've had our ups and downs - some beyond our control and some were issues that we've worked out together. I really feel like we've come out of it stronger and the more we experience together, the more I’m certain that Sonny is the person I want to spend the rest of my life with."
Sydney cracks a goofy smile.
"Yeah, yeah. Corny. I know," you wave dismissively, "but I can't help loving him more and more each day. Our relationship is so special to me and personally, sex is one of the most intimate things a couple can do. It's about love. So, waiting for the right time isn't a big deal. If anything, it will just bring us that much closer."
"Girl, you're crazy lucky!” chimes Sydney, affectionately. "And there's nothing wrong with waiting to bang. You remember me from back in the day and how I had my fair share of ‘promiscuous encounters’. Actually, with Geoff..." Sydney's eyes narrow as she recollects her ex, "fuck, do I wish we had waited! He said all the right things and made all the right gestures. Our relationship moved so fast! We hit the milestones at a hundred miles per hour…and I believed it! But then the cheating started. When I found out - and I still feel this way sometimes - when I think about having slept with him, I feel so dirty and cheap." She ducks her head and you can tell that the wound still smarts.
"You can't blame yourself for his behavior!" you rationalize, wishing your friend wouldn't be so hard on herself.
"I know! And I don't, but it's that shame and embarrassment of knowing I was so foolish to believe there was love there. Even the thought of having given myself over to him in that way makes me wanna upchuck. Hell, those one-night stands where the guy dips out as soon as he finishes don't feel as cheap or degrading. So, hon, there's nothing wrong with the pace you're moving at. Believe me. Maybe if I had waited longer with Geoff, his true colours would have shone through earlier..."
"It's in the past, Syd," you reason, "and you know what is special about that? It goes to show you how much you can trust and love someone. And even though Geoff was a total asshole, there's gonna be a guy out there for you someday who will be worthy of all that."
Sydney smiles despite herself. "You're a total sap, you know that, right?" You grin at her and nod proudly. "But I love ya for it." She then leans across the sofa and gives you a grateful hug. Parting, Sydney continues. "You'll know when the time is right," she reassures you. "You may talk about it or it may just happen, but you and Sonny are the mushiest, most in-love couple I've ever seen, so I know you'll be just fine."
-x-
Nights in with Sonny are the best. Lately you both had been so busy. Sonny was working overtime on top of double shifts, while you were occupied with perfecting your new course curriculum before the semester started.
When the two of you were finally able to have an evening off, you'd find something to eat and just lounge on the couch; maybe pop in a movie and sit snuggled up together. You didn't need to be doing anything in particular to enjoy each other's company.
Sometimes though, those cozy moments strayed towards other forms of physical affection. To put it in simple terms: you’d make out…And tonight happened to be no different.
"This movie's dumb," grumbles Sonny, leaning his head on the back of the sofa.
"Yep," you agree, staring blankly at the tv screen.
Sonny then turns his face towards you, offering a cheeky grin. "At least tha company's good."
You flop yours in his direction. "I suppoooose so," you tease with a roll of your eyes.
Sonny pouts and you laugh at how ridiculous he looks. When his put-on expression doesn't crack, you decide it's time to steer the evening towards a more preferable form of entertainment. "Y'know, if you don't stop making that face, I'm gonna have to wipe it off you myself." There's a deliberate hint of suggestion in your voice and you bite your lip to make your intentions crystal clear.
With a gleam in his eye, Sonny playfully deepens the curl of his frown which obviously leaves you with no choice but to reach out, nab his jaw and pull him to your lips. His arm encircles you and his hand presses against your back to coax you near. The quick peck blossoms into several more deep and passionate kisses; the two of you barely able to spare a breath in between.
As things continue to heat up you climb over and straddle Sonny’s lap. To your delight, this move elicits an 'Mmm!' of pleasant surprise from the Italian detective’s throat. Your hair falls over your shoulder as you peer down into his swirling blue eyes. "Hi," you grin quietly.
Sonny stares up at you in wonder. His hands fix themselves to the small of your waist. "Hey," he returns softly as the corners of his mouth cradle a gentle smile.
You hold his gaze a moment longer, soaking in the view. You're still in awe that the man before you is all yours, but as you lean down to capture his lips, you're reassured of your reality. Sonny mirrors your every move, matching your passion. The kisses grow even more heated. Your fingertips work at his silver temples while Sonny's hands burn up your skin where they've snuck themselves beneath your shirt. A gentle but firm squeeze is all it takes for your hips to involuntarily grind down against his.
Suddenly, Sonny raises your bum off of his lap. "What's wrong?" you ask with worry.
He shuts his eyes reluctantly before opening them to you, brow furrowed and expression vulnerable. "It's just...well, if we keep this up..." He winces and his cheeks turn pink.
You shift your knees on the sofa to steady yourself and raise your own eyebrows in understanding. "Oh," you say, growing quiet and nervous. The two of you never did get around to a discussion on taking things further, which left you to wonder where Sonny stood on the matter.
Ever the gentleman, he delicately tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, "I just don't know if we're ready for...this."
"Babe," you sit back on his thighs, rubbing your palms soothingly along his shoulders. "Do you want to wait? I know your beliefs are a little firmer than mine."
"Nuh-no! It's not that!" he exclaims. "I just don't wanna move too fast for you!" Sonny too, turns timid as he speaks.
You can't help but smile down at him. What had you done to deserve such a sweetheart? You recall the conversation with Sydney from a couple weeks ago. She was right.
"I believe in love," you breathe, running your thumb tenderly along his cheek, "and I love you more than anything."
"I love you too, doll," echoes Sonny, the confidence returning to his voice.
You kiss him again. It's long and lingering, reigniting the flame between you. Sonny draws you to his chest and you link your arms behind his neck. "I want this, if you do," you speak in a soft voice.
"I want this too. I want you...so much." The reply is almost a whisper, his lips mere inches from your own.
Emboldened, you withdraw and stand up, your skin tingling where his fingers brush along your waist. Never breaking eye contact, you reach out your hand. Sonny accepts and you lead him to the bedroom.
-x-
The next morning you awake to orange licks of early sunlight flickering through the blinds. Sonny's arm surrounds you, clutching you to his bare chest. His heavy breathing sounds beside your ear and you think it impossible for life to be any more perfect. You snuggle your naked form closer into his, wishing to stay in his warm embrace forever.
Then Sonny begins to stir. "Mornin' beautiful," he says, Staten Island accent heavy with sleep.
"Morning," you turn over in his arms to place a kiss at the corner of his mouth.
He releases you, propping his head up on an elbow. "Last night was..."
"Wow," you finish with a flirtatious grin.
Sonny sighs dreamily, "yeah." He then takes a finger and beings tracing light circles over your exposed shoulder. "Kinda wish we'd done that sooner." His tone is husky but his eyes are filled with affection.
"We've got our whole lives ahead of us, Sonny," you offer before delicately sweeping a piece of his hair away from his forehead.
You watch his blue eyes soften and crinkle at the corners. Dimples form from his smile. But instead of answering, he simply leans forward and kisses you.
Last night wasn't just physical; you found a whole new connection with Sonny. One deeply rooted in attraction but brought to life and nurtured by love. It was like you were completely in synch, giving and taking from one another wholly and completely. And, as you once again melt into his kiss, you know that everything had worked out just as it was meant to be.
---
Part 13 here!
A/N: I really love this fic. I've had it in my drafts for a long time and I really wanted to find the perfect place to add it into the series. I'm no expert but it kind of ticks me off how the media portrays physical relationships to be the holy grail...like it's a make or break type thing or that people need to be physical to fall in love. So, I tend to gravitate towards character-couples who do the opposite...and to me, Sonny seems like the type who values an emotional connection over a purely physical one. Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed reading this fic! The last paragraph is one of my favorite things I’ve ever written!
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jj-ktae · 4 years
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Papers, I
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Title : Papers Pairing : Park Jinyoung x Fem!Reader Genre : Victorian Era, Romance, Fluff, Angst, smut-ish,  Words : 3076 Summary : In the merciless 1850′s, Park Jinyoung finds solace in tiny pieces of paper and their owner.
Will be updated every Wednesday at 9 p.m CEST.
Prologue  ➳  II, III,
I,
Jinyoung wouldn’t call himself lucky. He doesn’t believe in such subjective things and his mind only sees things from a direct perspective. He knows a writer should be less down-on-earth, but he finds it hard to be laid back when everything is so harsh around him. 
He doesn’t even know why he assumes he has to think like a writer.
It’s probably because it is the only future he can foresee.
He receives an answer to each notes he leaves behind him. The conversation is casual but Jinyoung finds it more stimulating than any other mundanities. He is tired of having to avoid the other students and being ignored. It might be what the etiquette is about, but neither him nor his friends will ever understand the difference between two similar human beings.
They all blame it on the lack of education at the orphanage. It’s true that things were hard and revolved around beating up kids more than functional education but Jinyoung doesn’t get how it makes him unworthy of picking up a classmate’s handkerchief to give it back to him.
Jackson hates every minute of these moments. He hates how he has to stare at the ground or keep quiet when he hears the others talk about them like they carry the plague. Jaebeom ignores the whole situation, his introvert side taking the upper hand now while he would end up in nasty fights back then at the orphanage. 
This is exactly why he enjoys the candid answers he gets. He starts wondering who the person is, what they do, where they live. He doesn’t say much about himself; he knows enough to shut his mouth on the part where he is an orphan. Maybe the other one will stop answering, maybe he will have to deal yet again with that social difference. 
So cowardly he calls himself a literature student, a writer wannabe who lives in the rich part of the city. He writes no name after his notes, and he gets none in return. While he interacts with The art student, he begins his own narrative. It builds up slowly, with steady steps about the encounter of two people and lost pieces of paper. He starts again and again, never satisfied until he gets a note that offers more answers to his own interrogations. Jinyoung ends up imagining so many scenarios that it almost turns him crazy but for the very first time in his damned life he feels alive, eaten by something that isn’t hatred.
He even forgets about his surroundings and it feels like heaven. 
“Did they tell you about themselves?” Jaebeom barely questions him about it. He understood one thing about Jinyoung, and it doesn’t involve explicit talk. “You seem to be….vivid, these days.” 
Jinyoung looks up from his old notebook, his brow furrowed as the sun blinds his vision. They never stop outside, they barely let themselves feel vulnerable outside of their home. Society is about showing the bright things and they aren’t part of the jewels of the country. “I didn’t ask,” he says, closing the book with careful hands. “If I try, I will have to do the same.”
“Fair enough,” his friend answers, yawning so wide he receives curious glances from the other students. “You don’t want them to know who you are, but don’t you want to know who you’re talking to?” 
“I do,�� Jinyoung chuckles, “but it doesn’t matter. I get answers, so it is enough for me.” 
Jaebeom leans against the wall, smiling when he sees two young students greet each other with stupid bows and fake smiles. “How do you think we would be living if our parents were still alive?”
It makes Jinyoung sigh way too loudly. “I don’t think about such things. It’s not like we can change anything.”
Jackson’s loud voice startles the whole tiny garden, putting it to silence as everyone stares at the sweaty boy. “Am I late?” He pants. 
Jinyoung looks around, doing his best to ignore the soft yet sharp comments ringing into his head.
“Let’s go.” Is all he says before getting up and escaping as fast as he can toward the classroom. 
He finds the anticipation of a new note way too stimulating. 
--
A  woman. 
It’s a young woman. 
Jinyoung didn’t expect the person to be a young lady. He barely comes across any at this tiny school. It’s a small academy of literature and arts, it has nothing to do with the big and horribly expensive schools of the city. It has its standards though and it’s filled with young people, fancy and fitting perfectly.
It changes everything. There are a thousand things you can’t say and do around a lady, so there must be the same rules for writing. Jinyoung takes his own piece of paper and coughs, not sure why his handwriting becomes so neat.
“A girl ?” Jackson’s voice startles him as his ideas vanish yet again. His friend observes the piece of paper, lips pursed. “aren’t they...not supposed to do such things?”
Jinyoung nods, surprise still visible on his usually neutral features. “These hold no face, it is only paper and ink. She must think of me as one of notables’ son and it gave her courage.”
His friend scoffs, “Does this even help you?” he whispers, letting the paper fall softly on the table.
Jinyoung doesn’t answer. 
It does.
He thinks for a minute before picking the note. It’s nothing but small talk, nothing important but he reads it over and over again.
I am an only child and I have no plans for the future. I just end up coming here and on a not so hectic day I found your note. I have to say it is not common for a young lady to do such tricks…
Tricks. Is this how they call it, in the mundane world ? Maybe it’s a distraction for you, something you do because you’re not allowed to. It’s probably the only thrill you get on a boring day and Jinyoung understood you fully.
He starts writing when his brain summons him to stop overthinking things again.
I understand.  I am an only child too, but my comrades are like brothers to me. Never did I think that I would get an answer initially and judging from the way you present yourself, I would have put my guess on a fellow gentleman. I suppose boredom makes us do the unthinkable.Tell me more about your week next time and as insignificant as it will likely be, I will let you know about mine. 
Jinyoung doesn’t need to ask as Jackson offers his chewing-gum silently with a wink. He puts it tight against the wood before crossing his arms.
--
A gentleman. 
He is a man. 
You pick up the note with shaky hands, not believing what you just read. You thought it was a lady, someone who was bored and needed distraction. It is not behaviour for a gentleman, as bored as he can be. You are not supposed to interact with them and considering the situation, you are not to interact with anyone.
Answering would mean not following proper etiquette, and you’ve transgressed a few rules already.
Still, he seems to be puzzled, as if eager to know more about a lady who would be daring enough to do such things. There is no harm in continuing and he has no clue about who you are exactly. The lack of interactions between you and the rest of the people assures a certain hideout.
He will never know. He must never know. 
You look around, the silence evident and deafening. Each answer is a risk you’re not sure you’re willing to take. 
As you pick up a forgotten piece of paper and rip a corner, you pray for tranquillity. 
You will probably be disappointed as I’m afraid nothing exciting happened so far. It is repetitive, filled with night and day. I come and I go in silence, avoiding society. I don’t loath my surroundings but I fear the dexterity of social gatherings. I might not be cut for such a delicate exercise. I stay away, running when I can and watching when I have to -
Maybe it’s too personal. He shouldn’t guess anything, especially not your hatred toward your own self.
“Y/N! If anyone sees you we will be in trouble!” The high-pitched voice makes you nod, your eyes meeting the worried features of your friend’s face.
“I’m almost done!”
- I act like i am complaining but be assured that I enjoy life as far it can take me. I had a busy day filled with nothing worth sharing. I will probably let you know if anything exciting occurred in my next note, if you are still inclined to keep the exchange. Do not forget to let me know about your week as you promised. 
You use the same gum to hide the note  - and you hope he doesn’t notice it, before getting up and leaving. 
“You will be the end of me, Y/N.” Your friend whispers angrily as you leave the classroom. She is fidgeting with worry as her eyes wander the corridor.
“Nothing will happen to us. No one is here at such a time. I made sure no one finds the note, Vivi.” You try to appease her fear by throwing an arm around her shoulder but she hushes you, an upset smile appearing when you start laughing.
“If someone were to see the way we behave…” She shakes her head before stopping in front of the door. “As soon as we get there, I want to see the note!”
Vivienne is a good person. She is the neighbour’s daughter and your lives have always been as entwined as they could be. Her smile is contagious but she takes things too seriously.
Well, you’re probably the one not caring enough.
You open the building’s door and hook and arm around hers before rushing back home. You don’t let go of the tiny piece of paper.
Vivienne takes the notes from your hand as soon as you enter your room. She follows you like she always do every week. Today is the day you always come back late so she stays with you. 
She reads it with dreamy eyes before letting it fall on your bed. Her position change as she can finally be herself.
“A Gentleman ? Y/N, does he know ? I thought you were entertaining another stupid young mistress. I cannot believe such a thing is happening. He should never-
“Never know who I am. I know.” You finish with a sigh before jumping on your bed. “He doesn’t say who he is either, so nothing will happen. He seems so bored and serious.” You laugh when Vivienne unties her tight dress. 
“He is a rich literature student living in the city, what good is it to do such unholy things, especially with a lady?” She wonders, taking a deep breath when the air finally enters her constricted lungs. “It has always been a game, to them.”
“Drop it, Vivi. We know enough about etiquette to understand it is not made for us. It must be entertaining for him to know that a young lady of good education can interact with a gentleman with no worry. I don’t find it shocking in any other circumstances; we both know it isn’t a crime to talk with a gentleman but they don’t. I’m more worried about the gossip and what i will lose if anyone discovers what I have been doing.”
It is true. You talk with the kids in your neighbourhood every day. The young boys here are friendly, if not more caring than any other boys. You are not used to follow etiquette as it isn’t needed; you know it only because it is necessary to survive and remain. Speaking loudly, laugh, sing, fight, eat messily, hug, all of this is normal life and you can’t imagine it being forbidden. 
“Boring. They must be so boring.” Vivienne concludes, her voice dying and another one shaking you both.
“Time for dinner!”
--
Jinyoung finds it unusual. He never anticipates a class. Creative Writing is interesting when it doesn’t involve endless talking. He hates it when he has to lock his brain into his head and listen to whatever happens and it often happens. 
But today he is eager to enter the class and hopefully discover an answer. He ignores Jackson and Jaebeom’s witty remarks about how a Lady has taken an interest in him and merely answers. She must be too bored and in need of something thrilling. It is the way they live.
He pulls the paper from under the table as soon as he takes a seat. He doesn’t even try to hide anything.
“You should be careful. You will be in trouble if they start meddling in your business.” Jaebeom taps his pen on the table rapidly before glancing toward the professor. “She will be, too.”
What trouble could she get? Money is enough to make your way out of trouble. Trouble is for people like us, Jinyoung wants to answer. 
Instead he nods before opening the note.
It sounds different this time. He was expecting lines of useless tea gatherings and uninteresting chatting but he finds more depth than he thought he would have. She seems lost and far from the acts of the Upper class. Jinyoung doesn’t quite understand why would anyone not enjoy living among the rich in such hard times so he gets puzzled as to what he could answer.
He wants to say he hates the rich, he wants to yell at whoever deemed it good to let people behind to they own misery. He cannot speak though, his tongue is tied and his soul gone with the promise of a disturbed future. 
A wave a melancholy hit him and against better judgment, he keeps the answer neutral, like nothing is triggering him.
On this we do agree. I am myself not fond of such games. I stay evasive when needed and watch my surroundings. This is why writing heals more than it is supposed to - it is not surprising for a literature student, you may think. I am afraid my days aren’t exciting either. I am working on a piece that I will have to submit to my teacher so it takes most of my time. Considering the amount of stimulation I receive, I can say it is not going smoothly. 
Jinyoung stops when he thinks about how ridiculous it is to act like someone he isn’t. What the hell should he feel ashamed of what he is?
So his last sentence hits the papers way faster than intended. He hopes to find excitement, he believes it is to get a better view for his works but in fact he wants to disturb. He wants to pique, if not face to face, then on papers it will be. 
ps : If I may ask, what do you think about the rich? Please do not fear of my reaction and do not answer if such questions disturb your tranquillity.
He snorts at himself before sticking the paper again. Why would he even care about disturbing the empty life of the powerful?
When class ends he leaves, furious at no one and nothing but filled with a rage to change the balance. He will not end like this. 
--
“What I think about the rich?” You ask yourself, crouched behind the table.
It is ridiculous, why would anyone ask such a question? You start to panic when you imagine the probability of being discovered. Speaking badly of them would be ill-mannered, but no one would ever be able to tell it is you who wrote those words.
You are not even supposed to know how to write. 
Vivienne is busy next to you, her dirty dress swiping the floor with every step.
You grab a piece of paper you had previously taken with you and try to find an answer.
Before you can think you start writing messily, like someone is watching from behind.
If you don’t mind, you can share the subject of your writing with me. I see we both fancy peacefulness- 
You stop, not in the mood to act like you want to know more. 
About your question, I don’t know what it is that you mean but I would say that they are the essence of our society. Their intelligence is building the country and our wealth is nothing to be ashamed of. If you mean to put it in confrontation with the poor, I would say they do nothing but maintain an order which every peaceful monarchy should have. The rich have the knowledge and power and it is what it is. It is natural for humanity to place its bets on the survival of the fittest.
You feel nauseous as you finish the paper. It is probably what he wants to read so you wrote whatever would please a rich person. It is disgusting and untrue but there is only so little you can do without rising doubt in the mind of this young gentleman.
If he wants someone to flatter his pride, then so be it.
It has always been that way. 
--
The notes get shorter after that. You are not sure whether you did something wrong or not, but the answers get colder and colder. There are still here though, every weeks and with the same beautifully written letters.
You answer, even though it is nothing but wind in an empty shell. 
Jinyoung doesn’t know what he was expecting. He knew from the start who he would be corresponding with and it is no surprise. 
It is after one class that the story gets blurred. 
He is about to leave when the professor interrupts them. 
“Starting next week we will gather in the main amphitheatre. This room is only used for creative writing and in spite of how inspiring I think it is, it will no longer be used in this way.”
Jinyoung freezes, his notebook almost falling. 
While Jaebeom and Jackson are leaving, he speaks, startling them.
“Sir, no other lessons are being held here?” He looks vivid.
The teacher is as disturbed as the rest of the class. “No, it hasn’t been used by anyone else in the past five years.”
-
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throwaway3844893 · 4 years
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A non-canon changing of the events in Crimes of Grindelwald
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Hundreds of witches and wizards stood up and cheered as Grindelwald ended his speech about dominance over muggles, his arms spread wide as he welcomed the joyous shouts and yells. Tina flinched, taking a few side steps closer to Newt as the crowd died down and Grindelwald continued to speak to the recipients. An encore at hand. "What are you gonna do?" Tina said breathlessly, staring at the crowd that rallied at Grindelwald's words. She turned to face Newt, her heart pounding in her ears as she drank in the sight of him. She shut her eyes to rid of the memory from only moments before,
He felt exquisite against her.
Newt stared at her then, and the first thing he noticed was the smudged state of her lipstick. Rouge was overlapped above her top lip, and it took everything in Newt not to reach out and trace it, to rid of this imperfection. Perfect, pristine Tina, never afraid, was now disheveled and worried. Scared, even. She stared back at him, unveiling the mask she put on to conceal the vulnerable person inside. Newt had no answers, and that frightened him. He didn't know what he was going to do., but telling Tina that would only scare her further. His eyes darted back and forth as he thought of an answer. "I'll think of something," he replied smoothly. Newt shifted toward her, running his hand down the length of her arm. "I always do, Tina. We can get through this."
They moved in conjunction together, all of their unspoken feelings coming to life.
Tina shook her head. "Look at all these people," she replied in disbelief, turning her head to face him. "You really think we can beat all of them?"
His kiss was soft and gentle, as if she was something delicate. Like an angel.
"I do, Tina. I do. I've fought in wars, we have our creatures, and you are the most powerful witch I have ever met," Newt said honestly, his expression soft as he tried to console her, though it was hard with his own panic threatening to spill at any moment. Newt didn't notice the way her breath hitched when he'd called his creatures theirs. He scanned the crowd of magicians, holding Tina close to him.They both knew how the night was going to end with them inevitably separating, dueling in their own separate battles. It's why, when Newt pressed a kiss to Tina's temple, she didn't object. "We can do this," he said before taking a shaky breath.
Tina was the first to pull away, flicking her eyes up to meet his and chuckling quietly. "I l-"
She was interrupted by a low grumble outside; it signified Grindelwald's arrival. They looked at each other once more, lost in the words they could no longer say.
Tina sighed, looking over the crowd and trying to decipher anyone she knew. Across the room Theseus and Leta were stationed together, and Tina was certain their conversation mirrored her and Newt's. She could barely picture the two, about to be wed, parting as they said what could be their final goodbyes. Her and Newt would soon do the same. Grindelwald was wrapping up his second speech, and Tina turned to face Newt. "Let's hope we get out of this thing alive," She mused quietly, searching his face. "And if we don't-"
Newt hushed her and brought a finger to her lips, shaking his head. "Not now, Tina. We mustn't act upon what could happen. We'll survive." Tina nodded and allowed herself to accept his embrace, breathing in the sultry, lovely scent of him. She locked it in a special place, deep in her head to be used only on the days she missed him most, if they were to be separated forever. The crowd below them began to stomp and cheer, and Tina drew her wand before she viewed something that stopped her in her tracks.
There, in the middle of a row of people, was her sister and the No-Maj they'd lost track of moments before.
Queenie, with her plaid dress and monochrome coat, stood with Jacob, who appeared dazed and confused, drinking in Grindelwald's words as if they were water and she were a thirsty beggar, starved for any kind of beverage that would quench her suffering And she was agreeing with them, as if every word he spewed wasn't a lie. As if world domination over those who were lesser and powerless against them was something she was okay with, all for the sake of love.
Newt saw her at the same time Tina did, and he reached out for her, who'd begun to pull away from his grasp. "You can't stop her," Newt said, his voice quiet. Many of Grindelwald's followers were beginning to disapparate, meaning the conference was coming to a close and the time to fight was drawing quick. "Her decision is clear, and we don't have time. We can only hope she's one of the ones who leaves. As for Jacob... oh, Merlin, look what he's gotten himself into-"
He trailed off when he saw the blank, closed off expression on Tina's face as she stared directly at her sister, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. She seemed to sway with the wind, her shoulders squared. It was a horrifying sight, Tina standing like that with Grindelwald's words barely audible behind her. "I'd promised to protect her," she said quietly. Newt watched the wind blow tendrils of Tina's bangs across her forehead, though she let them tangle with each other. "I protected her for years, but-" Tina took a deep breath- "It seems she's outgrown the protection."
With that, she let go of Newt and disapparated.
She landed a few steps above her sister and shoved others out of the way, pushing her way down the steps before reaching the blonde. Tina side-stepped in front of her, interrupting the clapping and smiling her sister was doing. Queenie paused for a moment, stunned, and then pushed Jacob away from her. Tina heard a snap! come from above her and she watched as Newt, panicked, apparated next to Jacob and began to tug on his arm. "Come now, it's not safe for a muggle like you here."
With Jacob safe in Newt's custody, the woman started to speak. "Why?" Tina asked breathlessly, her face showing clear distress. "How could you do this, Queenie? You know he's against everything we stand for!"
"No," Queenie said simply, watching her sister with pure defiance. Tina's eyes flicked up and over Queenie's shoulder, where she saw Newt dragging a curious Jacob up the steps and out of the arena. "He's against everythin' you stand for," Queenie reiterated, her expression stone cold, though hot tears pressed against her eyelids, daring to spill over. The two sisters almost mirrored each other. "I am in love with a No-Maj. Your congress does not allow that. Grindelwald's does. He's not a cruel man with cruel intentions." She kept her eyes on Tina as she spoke, never faltering as her sisters lips shook and breath hitched. "The cruel intentions come from your side. You won't allow me to be happy-"
"I want nothing but for you to be happy-"
"-because you think exposing the magical world is dangerous. I wasn't finished talkin'," Queenie added with a snap. They watched each other for a long time. Tina's breaths were shaky as she processed this betrayal. How could her sister have done this? Her sister, who she'd loved, nurtured, and cared for all her life? Her sister, who she'd been ordered to watch after their parents tragic demise? How could this sweet, beautiful creature turn into someone who followed the orders of a madman? Queenie shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. "One of us had to be brave."
Tina gasped then, her features hardening as anger rose within her. "How dare you," she said, and her voice shook. "How dare you imply I'm not brave! You... you are the one whose not brave. You go running around with Jacob, cursed, unable to accept that you cannot love each other, and because of your blindness you've gone to join the most dangerous task force in the wizarding world and for what? Something as small as love?" The two watched each other, both steaming by the end of Tina's monologue. "I raised you, I put everything before myself for you, I postponed my career, I risked my career... everything I've done has been for you. Was that not enough?"
Queenie evaded her sister's expression, instead focusing on hitting the jugular. "You don't know or understand love because you refuse to accept it. You refuse to accept the fact that Newt is in love with you and that you broke his heart all because you thought he was married to Leta-"
"That's not the point!"
"And now he feels he cannot tell you how he truly feels because he fears you're still upset with him, and it's crushing him inside because he doesn't know that you love him back-"
"Queenie-"
"You broke him, Tina. He's closing off again; I know this. He's closing off because of you and your actions. You're losing the one man who could ever truly love someone like you-"
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Because despite your flaws, despite your obstinacy, despite your inability to accept any feeling of attraction toward you, he loved you. He loves you for you, and all your faults. And that isn't enough for you, is it? It's never-"
"Why are you doing this?"
"It's never enough. You're afraid of it. You're afraid, Tina. The thought of love scares you, because you know it's right. You know it's right and that it's gonna hurt and it's gonna be incredible but you refuse to accept that you feel it for him because you have this idea that you gotta protect yourself from everything. You love him, Tina, and you can have him. I can't have Jacob. This is why I'm with Grindelwald. He can assure I get what I need. He won't take it away."
There they stood in the middle of the seating in an arena, the blonde destroying the brunette and watching as she broke down. Queenie didn't flinch when Tina pulled out her wand; instead, she took out her own. They were poised to fight each other, though neither made the first move. Queenie cocked an eyebrow, challenging the elder sibling. "Try me," she said smoothly, her violet eyes burning into their chocolate opponents. "You know I'm right, Tina. You know that-"
Newt came rushing down the stairs, interrupting Queenie's thoughts. Without a doubt, he pointed his wand at the blonde. "Don't move," he ordered, surprisingly demanding. Tina had never seen him like this. In a flash he was in front of her, one arm outspread to cover her. "Don't touch her," he said again, eyes focused on Queenie, whose face was radiating pure shock. "Have a go at me, if you must... but not Tina."
Tina grabbed onto Newt's arm, attempting to pull him back. "Newt, what're you doing?" She whispered when he refused to move, his body rigid like a stick caught in tar. Queenie watched the two of them, an amused smirk on her face. Tina realized then that this was what Queenie had wanted; a chance for succor, to have the final word and to force Tina to rush into a life she wasn't sure she wanted yet.
Well, she was sure, but that's besides the point.
"Keeping you from doing something you'll regret," Newt said after a moment's hesitation, lowering his defences as he realized Queenie had no intent on harming them. Tina frowned, backing away and loosening her hold on him. "Queenie," he said quietly, forcing himself to meet the witch's violet eyes. His voice was low as he spoke. "There is another way. You don't have to fall victim to his words. You are not alone. We can fight this law, and break it, together. Grindelwald's way simply won't work."
"No," Queenie said sternly. "I've seen into his mind, Newt, it's... it's amazin', the things he plans on doin'. They'll work. I know they will. And I can't..."
The blonde trailed off again, looking toward the ground as the couple stared at her with wide eyes. "You can't... what?" Tina asked, daring to take a few steps forward.
"I can't fight with the congress that's betrayed me."
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minniepetals · 6 years
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tears of a galaxy II. yoonseok
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— summary: if hoseok was the day and yoongi was the night, then you were the stars. all together, the three of you made a galaxy.
— pairing: yoongi x reader x hoseok
— genre: fluff, angst / poly!au, greekgod!au 
— word count: 9.4k
— warnings: brief mention of death
— a/n: so sorry for this very late update on part two but i hope you enjoy! :)
↳ Part 1
You stood in a dark void, alone with no sound around you. The place was empty yet you felt no fear rushing through your body. You felt completely calm, completely nonchalant. The darkness hadn't ever scared you since the day you were born, you embraced it unlike most, it comforted you like a home.
When you looked around, walking around in slow steps, you could hear two soft laughs combining together, ringing and sounding like beautiful noises, beautiful music to your ears like a mellifluous sound. It sounded so familiar yet at the same time you knew you've never heard it in your entire human life. And with their laughter, the once void place was filled of stars and moons of the galaxy. You gasped at the sudden sight, eyes gleaming at how beautiful it was. You've always loved the night sky and seeing the stars had always been your favorite thing.
Yet when you squinted hard at two particular elements, the brightest star and the brightest moon among all the rest of the billion others, the two of sun and moon flew down to you, swirling around you and causing giggles to burst out of your lungs. And the two voices you had heard before was back again, joining yours. You didn't know why you were laughing, why you were giggling at the tingling feeling you felt as the two sun and moon flashed around you, but you were happy.
You felt nothing but joy, like you were back in your home, your real home, not the house you lived in now but in the home of the galaxy. And it felt just right, like you belonged and that the galaxy had been made just for you.
And when you had awaken the next day, you couldn't help but have the lingering feelings of happiness that had rushed through your flesh of body. Whatever they were, whoever they were, you just knew you had to find out. Because exactly why was that dream so vivid? Why did you remembered every detail, every star, every moon that was in the galaxy? You had to find out yet you didn't know how.
You sat up rubbing your eyes from the morning daze with a yawn as a tiny tear escaped from your eyes, dream still vividly in your mind but you decided to not think too much on it as you got up to start your day.
You lived in a small house with your grandmother in a small town—a village, more likely, and with a beautiful puppy you found one evening while walking back home from work. Apparently he had been abandoned by his previous owners so you decided to take him in, naming him Oreo. Oreo was a great company for your grandmother whenever you would leave the day and she had no one to talk to.
Your grandmother had nothing to do but to lay in bed all day so with Oreo around, she was thankful for the pup. It pained you to see how weak your grandmother had gotten as the days passed, her body becoming far too delicate for her own good. She was sick, very sick, and you knew soon that she'd be leaving your side pretty soon yet you still didn't wanted to think of it. She was the only family member you had, raising you on your own because your own father and mother had died while you were at your young age.
On days when she had slept and you had no work, you'd find yourself staring up at the sky. Sometimes at the bright day, sometimes at the dark night. It comforted you in many ways when you had time on your own, sometimes speaking to the sky itself and having this little hope that someone, a god or two, would hear your words and prayers.
You had always loved the stars, falling in love with it as if it was a love at first sight moment. The years when your grandmother was younger and stronger, she would take you to a place where you could see the stars without anything blocking your view. You missed those moments yet you knew you could no longer share them with your grandmother anymore simply because she was slowly slipping away.
You've always tried your best not to dwell on it and she'd always give you a calm, gentle smile as the two of you made conversations of random things, not mentioning much about how she'd leave your side soon. You'd keep a brave face in front of your grandmother, showing non of your vulnerability and that you were okay and fine even at days when you'd get stress over all sorts of things. She'd worry but she wouldn't press you any further than how was your day. And you were thankful for that because you didn't wanted her to see you at your worse at the state she was in. It'd distraught her.
And so at times when you weren't by her side all the time but had instead opted on staying in your bedroom, you'd take in that moment to break down and cry, Oreo being the only one to hear and see you. It was better that way although at most times you'd hope and wish for someone to hold you and comfort you instead of having just a puppy to hold in your arms while you cried.
But whenever your grandmother would mention of you finding a man in your life and to get married soon, you'd shoot down the topic with a laugh while inside, you too was hoping to find someone. But of course that wasn't going to be easy.
"These men are all so blind, you're a goddess!" Your grandmother would complain, earning an eye roll from you.
"I'm not a goddess, grandma. If no one's going to make the effort then why dwell on it? The time will come," you sighed.
"What about Jungkook? He's still single, right? Go on and date your friend," she'd tell you.
But you'd only grimace at the idea. "He's my best friend. Jungkook's nothing more than a brother to me, grandma, you know that."
Having been growing up with your childhood friend, you never saw Jeon Jungkook as something besides a friend to you and he felt the same as well. There was nothing more to your friendship with Jungkook. He was someone who stood by your side when you were at your worst, getting in trouble together, sneaking out, seeing each other cry, making each other laugh but also getting angry at each other as well, it was nothing out of the ordinary. And that was all to it. Nothing more, nothing less.
"You have to promise me you'd look for one. I don't want to die knowing my daughter will be single for the rest of her life." She paused. "Not that I'm worried no one will love you, you're beautiful inside and out. I'm just worried you'll have no eyes for anyone."
You nodding in understanding and leaned down to press a soft kiss on her forehead as you whispered words of promises that you'll try to fall in love. With her smiling back at you, you smiled back in satisfaction before crouching down to pet Oreo then said your goodbyes to the two of them to head off to work.
For her sake—or for yours, you did wanted to find someone yet something was holding you back. You didn't know what it was but you just knew that you couldn't go out and search for just any guy. They'll come to you when the time came. And that was the serendipity you had been waiting for perhaps your whole life.
But you were getting quite tired of it, the patience within you slowly coming to distraught you.
"Something on your mind, little goddess?" From your right, your best friend leaned against the palm of his hand as he rested his elbow against the counter, staring at you with a smirk as he asked you a question.
Jungkook had always loved to call you little goddess, in fact you couldn't think of a time when he wouldn't call you that unless there were times when he absolutely needed to call you by your actual name. No matter how many time you'd ask him to stop or ask for a reason why he'd call you that rather than your name, the playful words would always come out as,
"You're a goddess, I couldn't possibly be disgraceful now can I?"
It was a weird reply but then again, he was Jungkook, everything weird came out of his mouth so you had decided to just let it be years ago, not caring about it no longer. There was also never a time when Jungkook wasn't there for you. Each day, you'd find him wherever, whether that was at the coffee shop the two of you worked in, your house, or sometimes just meeting out on the streets due to your small village. He'd tag along whenever you wanted to go on an adventure out in the woods, telling you of how he needed to be there to protect you even though you were sure there was no danger, the boy insisted all the time.
"It's just," you sighed, resting your chin against both your palms so that your cheeks were puffed out in a cute pout, "I feel kind of lonely, you know? Sort of like there's something missing in my life."
Jungkook's eyes lit up and the usual smirk played against his lips even more playfully than normal. "Like a man or two?"
A man or two?
Flustered by his exact point, you looked away from him bashfully. Although he had been your best friend since forever, it was embarrassing to talk about boys in front of him, after all you weren't one to speak very freely about any men simply because none of them had ever interested you. Your friend bursted out laughing beside you and you couldn't help but to blush even more.
"They'll come around." You didn't know whether the man was being serious or still playful or maybe both but you decided not to look at him to find out, too embarrassed for yourself. You felt like a little kid who had just developed their first crush yet in your case, there was no one you to crush on but just the thought itself brought butterflies to your stomach.
Huffing, you grumbled (mostly to yourself) with a soft whined, "Why is it that I'm finally starting to be interested in my love life all of a sudden?" You turned to Jungkook who was still smirking. "It's not normal to finally be interested in love at this age for the first time, right?"
Your friend shrugged. "Maybe the time has finally come, little goddess."
You furrowed your brows. "What are you talking about?"
"For you to finally meet your two lovers."
"Wha—"
Before you could ask Jungkook another question, the entrance door to the coffee shop chimed, indicating that you had costumers. Averting your attention to the door, you straightened up your posture and looked down at yourself to smoothen out your uniform. No matter who'd be walking in through the door, you just hoped to look presentable and professional towards every costumer. After making sure your uniform was in the right shape (it wasn't that wrinkled in the first place), you finally held your head up to look towards who had walked in.
And your breath was held back almost immediately.
The customer walked in with a tall, bold appearance, as if a god had just walked in through the doors. His face kept serious and stern, and he was oh so handsome. He was wearing nothing too excessive yet the casual clothing on him made it look so expensive. The second you had looked up, your eyes had met his and they had never faltered since then. He had this soft, golden aura around him, like he was the sun himself.
You couldn't strip away from those beautiful, intense gaze. You couldn't tell if they were contacts or not but his irises were of a radiant sun, golden rays beaming through them. His skin looked so flawless and smooth, one that you believed could only belong to a god if you had ever seen one. His presence itself was strong, giving off a god's glow. To you, he looked nothing like a normal mere human. And there were soft gasps and whispers, mummers filling the room to tell you that they had probably felt the same but you couldn't focus on them, only the man who stood staring right back at you.
Yet why was your heart aching? A nostalgic feeling was stabbing your heart. It was as if you had finally got to see your loved one again after a long distance that had broken the two of you, that kept you from seeing each other. His presence was hurting you yet at the same time it was healing you as well. You didn't know what it was, why he was looking at you with a warm gaze, one you recognized as eyes someone would only look at towards the one they loved.
Your heart was pounding so hard in your chest you felt as if it could just leap out if it was given that freedom. But then again, you felt an aching there that kept you from being oh too excited about seeing the new face. He looked so familiar yet you knew for sure that you had never seen him before. It was frustrating you so much, as if there was some sort of memory waiting to slip back vividly into your mind yet it was too faint for you to see, or maybe remember.
A shadow and the slip of another body emerged from behind the mysterious man that had caught your eyes, causing you to lose your gaze on the man before you as the other man walked up beside him to have a look at you.
And again your breathing hitched.
His skin was as pale as the moon's surface, soft pale silver eyes looking right into yours, sharing the same intense gaze as the man before you, one of a loving gaze. He was slightly shorter but still as beautiful as the taller man. Again, his aura glowed like one that could belong to a god but instead of the golden sunlight rays, it was less intense. Although they had been just as bright, you could tell it wasn't the sunlight rays this time, but of something much more different, like the opposite was what you had felt just a minute ago.
You could feel yourself calming while looking at him, a warm beam of the moon's glow lighting his presence. But again just like the other man, the aching in your heart began to swell once more. Combined with the two, it was much more intense, you felt like you could just break down right there and then. But you knew you couldn't.
"Can we order?"
You ripped your eyes from the silver eyed man to look at the other one, quickly gasping as you shakily asked for their orders. You would've dwell more on his alluring voice if it weren't for you remembering your job. You were working for goodness sake! You had no time to fantasize about your costumers.
But as you went on to try and write down their orders, you couldn't stop your hands from shaking. That aching pain in your heart wasn't going away, not with them right in front of you. You didn't know what was wrong with you. It wasn't like you to suddenly be interested in guys and to lose focus on your work. You had always been the good worker you were, not letting anything distracting you. But here you were, trembling out of — you didn't even know why you were trembling.
"Hey," the voice of the first man made you look up at him once more, causing you to stop trying to write down their orders as you wondered what more he wanted. But to your surprise, his eyes were much more softer than they had been before and his voice grew gentle instead of that serious business-type tone when he had given you his and his friend's orders.
"You're crying."
Reaching up to feel for yourself, you realized then that you really were crying when you felt the cold water flowing down your cheeks. At first you looked over towards the other man who looked just as concerned as the other one then you turned your head towards Jungkook who had never left your side. Eyes begging him to get you out of the situation, you prayed he'd get it just from your look.
And sure enough your best friend gently grabbed your shoulder, apologizing to the two men and you missed that glint of pure respect in his eyes before he went on to call over for Yura to take over their orders, then led you away behind the doors where you were finally able to break down.
"Little goddess?"
"I don't know what's wrong with me," you began to panic as you paced back and forth, hands reaching up to wipe your tears away yet they didn't seem to stop. "I just feel so sad for some reason and it's like a part of me knows the reason why but it's like my brain seems to be refusing to acknowledge them, like they're just buried behind everything and my chest feels so tight and my heart is hurting and aching and now I can't stop crying. Why is it hurting? I hate this feeling but it won't stop. Why—"
Abruptly grabbing you by the shoulders, Jungkook stopped you from pacing around and from rambling on, his face calm and filled with concern as the two of you face one another. "Hey, calm down," he asked of you softly.
But how could you? "Why do they look so familiar?" You whimpered, feeling weak and vulnerable at the overwhelming feeling. "I know I've never seen them before and yet..." you trailed off, trying to grasp the right words to describe the things you felt so that Jungkook could understand but when he wrapped his arms around your back and pulled you into a comforting warm hug, you knew you didn't had to.
For some reason he always knew what it was that was wrong and how to deal with your sudden outbursts, like he had the power to just calm you down in whatever situation no matter how severe it was. Rather than just a friend, you felt as if Jungkook was somewhat of a guardian looking out for you. Maybe that was why he knew you so well and had always been there for you.
"It's okay," your best friend whispered while gently rubbing his hands up and down your back soothingly. "Everything will be okay."
"Jungkook," you gave out a shaky sigh from having just cried, "thank you."
"Anytime, little goddess."
❥❥❥
"Grandma?"
Your grandmother hummed in response to your calling as her wrinkly fingers ran through the soft snowy furs of Oreo.
"I saw a strange sun and a moon today." Perhaps getting straight to the point about you meeting two handsome men that day would had gotten her to grow way too happy for her own strength so you decided on going slow that day as you spoke.
"Oh?"
You nodded. "It was like..." you trailed off slowly, trying to find the right words to describe your description. "Like the day and night gods had finally made their appearance after the long wait and for some strange reason, they seem very compatible with one another despite their different nature."
"That's...quite lovely."
You blinked in confusion at your grandmother's strange description and cocked your head slightly to your left. "Lovely?" You parroted her word and she simply smiled at you, a small nod in response to your questioning gaze.
"Little one, have you ever heard of the love story shared between the day and night god and a beautiful star goddess?"
You shook your head but the sudden light in your eyes gave off the news that you were very much interested to hear about it. Shifting in your seat out of curiosity, you leaned in towards your grandmother. "Tell me."
And she did. She told you the beautiful story of the love shared between the day and night god, how even though the two gods had known that their love wasn't meant to be due to their different nature, they still couldn't stop yearning for one another. And because of that strong love, they had shared a loving kiss one night, creating a beautiful spark, a beautiful star who had brightened up the beautiful night sky with her glowing twinkling lights.
Altogether, the three of them had made a Galaxy.
And so their love continued to grow with their beautiful star goddess but because things weren't always meant to be happy, the day and night gods grew apart, their love beginning to shatter, unintentionally hurting the star goddess during the process as her lights began to dim each passing day when the two gods stayed apart from one another.
Yet the two of gods had no idea what they were doing to her even as she begged for them to love one another again.
Your heart had clenched at the revelation and felt tears resting on the corners of your eyes, waiting to fall as if it was your own story told by someone else. "What happened to her?" You asked quietly and so your grandmother went on with her story.
"She disappeared, taking away all the stars of the galaxy that she had made," your grandmother simply stated, a tinge of sadness filled her voice when she had said that but it was soon replaced by softness, her eyes smiling once more. "She made all the gods and goddesses realize what a mistake it was to have the two gods apart. And so a new rule was set out, for the god of day and night to live together in peace."
"Did the goddess reappeared?" You gasped eagerly, excited and hopeful in wanting to see her nod and give you yes, but her smile faltered a little and the shake of her head made your heart ache once more. "But..the stars," your mouth gaped, a sudden dejection hitting you.
"The stars came back," your grandmother affirmed, "but the legend says that the star goddess had been reborn as a mortal and that her memories had been erased. Only until her memories reappear, will she be a full goddess once more."
Suddenly, you're gasping once again, the hopefulness returning and you quickly clapped at the news like an excited child hearing their parents or teachers speaking of tales. "And the gods went on to look for her, didn't they?! Did they find her? Did she remember?"
Chuckling, your grandmother gave you a light shrug. "That part of the story depends on what you believe in."
You grinned. "Well I believe that the star goddess did remembered."
"If anything, my dear one, I'd believe that you were the goddess."
You could only laugh at her joke.
That night the same dream appeared in your sleep. You felt scared at first after the experience at the coffee shop that morning but when the same sun and moon danced around you like it had done when you had first witnessed the dream, you felt nothing but calm and joy surging through you. They're presence felt the same as you had felt with the two handsome stranger which began confusing you a immensely.
Seeing the two stranger itself felt like a dream. Maybe that was the serendipity you had been waiting for your whole life. Yet you were held back to venture on further into the emotions because of the aching feeling you had felt when you saw them. If seeing them had made you cry absentmindedly, then there must've been a reason to that, you just couldn't think of why. Your whole life you had never been interested in men, simply living your joyous life looking after your own self and your mother, Jungkook basically being the only man that was really that important. But he was nothing more than a friend, you were sure of that.
Yet when you had looked into the eyes of the two stranger, you felt weird, like you were actually finally wanting to take a risk in falling in love. Human love had always scared you simply because sometimes one wasn't ever too true to themselves or their partners which was why you tended to stray away from love, you were too afraid of the love being fake and that you'd end up making a mistake in the end.
But then again there was always something that had held you back from venturing further into love, as if your man or two had been waiting to meet you once more, like a love that was meant to reunited. But with the lack of knowledge, you had no idea what to really think of it. It scared you but something told you that taking that step, towards getting to know those two, was something that would be worth everything.
❥❥❥
Gosh, it was much easier when I had pictured it in my head.
Yet the second you saw the two stranger at your coffee shop once again, fear and nervousness overtook you and even the thought of making a conversation with them had frightened you. But maybe them telling you their order wasn't a bad start.
"W-welcome," you greeted the two of them, bowing in respect.
This time the man with the lunar aura had spoken up. "Can I have two americanos?" It was a short request, one that had disappointed you a bit but nonetheless, you found yourself stammering a 'sure.'
You felt silly, like a young girl who had just developed their first crush, like you had just met your soulmate, like that moment yesterday had been a love at first sight moment you had heard talks about. But could you really blame yourself when this was the first time you've actually opened up to the idea of falling in love?
With BOTH of them. Gosh, what is this?
It felt weird, as if loving just one of them didn't felt right, that you just had to love the both of them. And when you stole a glance at the two of them, you knew them that you really couldn't just fall in love with just one man, it had to be both.
Does that make me desperate? But...a polyamorous relationship doesn't sound too bad—wait no, shut up you're working!
Baffled by your own thoughts, you quickly tried to gain composer once again before you could embarrass yourself. Crying in front of them the day before was embarrassing enough.
"Little goddess, why is your face so pink?" Jungkook's voice made you jump. When you looked up at him, he had that same smirk on his face like the day before when he had asked you what was on your mind.
"It's not pink," you huffed.
"You're right, they're red." Biting your lower lip, you slapped Jungkook on the arm to scold him but he only laughed in return.
"Last I saw you were crying in front of them, now you're actually blushing over them?" He teased to which you whined in protest for him to stop.
Just a few seconds later, you were back to your smiling self as you leaned your chin against the counter, arms resting beside it. "Grandmother told me a very interesting story," you giggled to yourself and Jungkook found himself just as happy, seeing you smiling once more.
"Really?"
You hummed excitedly. "It was about the day god, the night god, and the star goddess, about their beautiful love story." As soon as you had said that, Jungkook found himself chuckling at it, almost as if there was another meaning behind it all and that he had known of that reason. "Gosh," you sighed to yourself almost in a content way, "I hope the goddess remembered everything."
"Yeah," Jungkook murmured, staring at you with a soft gaze while you continued staring out towards the costumers in the café, "I hope so too."
You had almost missed his words but you did caught it, and once you heard him, you quickly sat up straight to look over at your best friend. "You heard of the story?" You asked and Jungkook did nothing but nodded. "You should've told me! It's such a beautiful story."
Your friend laughed at your sudden pout and went on to pat your head like you were a small child, causing you to forget about it as you went back to resting your chin on the counter, absentmindedly finding yourself staring at the two beautiful godlike men who sat near the corner of the small café.
In the next few days, the two handsome men had became frequent customers and you soon learned their names when Yura had shamelessly asked for it and you caught it by "unintentionally" eavesdropping. She went on to try and flirt with them while you stood in the background making coffee but still listening in and you felt a drop of dejection hit you, feeling as if the two men would find interest in her because she was pretty and had been brave enough to speak up.
But surprisingly, just a short moment after your dropped stomach, you heard the two men politely declining her in the best possible way. With the urge to look on over, you turned your head slightly over your shoulder, only to meet their beautiful gazes staring right back and a somewhat assuring smile was casted over for you, as if they were trying to tell you that they weren't interested in Yura and it reminded you of a drama scene you'd watch when the boyfriend would assure their jealous girlfriend that he had eyes only for her.
Your face flushed at the occurring thoughts but you couldn't stand to look away from those alluring eyes. A small chuckle rumbled through the throat of the one called Yoongi and you swore, you practically melted at the sound.
Yura must've had caught on because when she turned back to look at you, a visible smirk curled from the corner of her mouth and you were quick to turn around, trying to distract yourself by making your customer's coffee.
"Why is it that even though we have never spoken before—besides asking for their orders—do I feel so connected to them?" You asked mostly to yourself as you sat criss crossed with Oreo on your lap, staring out at the opening view in front of you. "It's like, they know what I'm thinking and what I'm feeling and I just..." you trailed off, teeth biting your lower lip as you feel a warm rush of energy flowing through your veins right before you're quick on your feet, causing Oreo to jump off with a yelp, and you're jumping with excitement.
"I'm so happy! I don't know why I'm so happy! Oreo, it was like," your smile widened, "love at first sight," then you snapped your fingers, "twice! And I'm just...ah!" You sighed contently as you fell on your back to rest on the grassy hill. "So happy."
While you giggled to yourself, feeling the most happy since a long time, you turned your head on over to play with Oreo, only to find him running off into the woods and your heart quickly dropped with a bad feeling.
"Oreo, come back!" You gasped but your little dog kept on running. You jumped back on your feet and began to chase Oreo, calling for his name repeatedly while he barked loudly.
It was only in the moment when Oreo had stopped running did you realized what he had been barking at, and you froze in tracks. As soon as you saw those dark fur and sharped teeth, your skin paled and you gulped slowly at the sight. The wolves growled at Oreo and that was enough to have your little dog running right into your arms.
You were much quicker on your feet then, running as far as you could opposite of where the wolves had came from. But of course, how could you outrun them when they were wolves?
Yet as they gradually paced closer towards you one step after the other, you saw two familiar figures you'd never thought to see outside of your work hours. Your eyes squinted together, not believing in what you were seeing but sure enough as you sprinted closer and closer, the figures were exactly them and you found yourself falling into the arms of Yoongi who had surprisingly caught hold of you safe and securely.
"Hey, what's wrong?" His brows furrowed with concern seeing the scared expression on your face as he held onto you.
With Oreo still wrapped safely in your arms, you pointed towards the source of your fear with shaky fingers. "They're going to eat me," you cried, instinctively finding yourself clinging onto Yoongi.
But to your surprise, the man only chuckled as he gently rubbed his hand against your back. "They won't hurt you, little one. Not you, not ever." The soft words that had ringed in your ears as he had spoken to you for the very first time outside of coffee ordering talks had sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine, his touch itself being enough to have you feeling calmer than ever and you found yourself trusting his words for some reason.
"Want to pet it?" The other male had asked you, smiling softly as he took your hand in his, creating another wave of pleasure to surge through your body. Hoseok led you a few steps over towards the now calm wolves who showed nothing of their wildness as they had just minutes ago. You followed Hoseok, crouching down next to him while Oreo jumped out of your arms, still scared of the wolves, and ran over to Yoongi.
Hand still holding your smaller one, Hoseok maneuvered it towards a wolf in front of you before letting you go to have your hand stop in midair. "They won't bite you," he assured you with a beautiful smile and again, you found yourself trusting his words as well.
Slowly, you opened your slightly fisted hand and in that next moment, the wolf, like an eager puppy, moved himself under your palm as it rubbed against it. The wolf felt so soft against your fingers and you began smiling and giggling at the sensation as other wolves surrounded you, wanting the same attention as the first one.
Seeing your beautiful smile again and to hear your soft giggles ringing through the air, Hoseok and Yoongi couldn't help but to stare at your beautiful familiar face they had once remembered as. Even as a human, you emitted a goddess's glow, sheltering you from things that'd harm you if animals such as those wolves hadn't recognized the goddess in front of them.
Yet they did, which signaled the thought that your memories were still there in the back of your mind, waiting for the moment to be brought back to the opening. They didn't know how long that moment would be but they were willing to wait, after all, you would surely return to them one day, just as they had promised you.
And from the sight of your starry eyes glistening under the sun, perhaps that day was to come very soon.
Maybe it was just a wishful thinking.
❥❥❥
After the day of your first meeting outside the small café, things had gone towards a much brighter path for you. You felt as if your life was finally beginning to fill up wholeheartedly as the days passed with getting to know the two men bit by bit.
The nostalgia feeling was still there and a part of you felt empty still, as if you were missing a piece of you that had been lost a long time ago. Yet the times spent with the guys mirrored the assurance that everything would be alright and that there wasn't anything you need not to worry about because their presence itself was like a home you were missing. It was strange. You didn't know how to explain the feeling but you felt blissfully happy.
The questions were still there, racking up your brain like swarms of bees as they busied themselves in their honeycombs. You didn't know why you trusted them so easily, why you felt so connected to them, why they felt like home to you, or even the fact that Jungkook wasn't stopping you from venturing further with the two males when he had always been quite the protective dude.
Questions after questions swarmed your head and you found your possible conclusions never nearing what the real answers were.
Maybe time would show you.
And as you sat on the chair besides your grandmother's bed, everything went empty as you stared at her lifeless body, hand falling out of your palms, the ones that had been desperately holding onto yours just thirty seconds ago.
"Time of death..." the doctor called but you heard nothing after that, too blind to the world as the tears slowly rained down your cheeks, clinging at your chin right before it would fall.
She had been the only family in this life of yours and sometimes you'd think that it was cruel of the world to do that to you but when you thought of how many other deaths you'd face if she hadn't been the only one, you were grateful in some ways.
In a way, you felt happy she was finally leaving the Earth, hating to see her be in any more pain if she were to stay any longer. The last days spent with her were ones you'd never forget so you forced out a small smile, saying your final goodbye as the doctors covered her face, that moment being the last time you'd ever see her beautiful old, wrinkly face.
You took a stroll through the woods soon after your grandmother's body had been relocated, the hospital being of a place that wasn't one to your favor, and there you did your thinking.
You knew that you would be fine so you weren't very worried about the future but that didn't meant that you weren't going to be hurt over her death. Sure you had Jungkook and possibly Hoseok and Yoongi yet losing a loved one had always been hard. Still, seeing her off and knowing that she'd be in a better place made your heart smile if even a little.
But that small dose of happiness didn't lasted long when you found yourself just a few feet in front of some form of...dog?
Yet you knew it wasn't just a regular dog with the bright red eyes that bore into yours. No, you heard of the description, read about them in your mythology class, and the dog right in front of you was none other than a black shuck, a type of Cerberus guard dog. But why was it there in your part of the town? And why was it looking at you like it was ready to pounce on you?
You didn't had any time to think because the shuck did exactly what you had thought of, flying in the air towards you as you yelped and covered your eyes with your arms, only to feel strong arms wrapped around yours and turning you away as if acting like a shield for you. Right after it happened, you heard a dog's whimper and saw it running away in fear at the two sight in front of him.
"What the heck is a black shuck doing here?" Hoseok said as he held your body closer to him.
"More importantly, why is it attacking her?"
At Yoongi's question, they both turned their gaze on you right away. Combined with the fear from knowing you were just about to have gotten hurt and with the devastating fact that you had lost your grandmother that day, you buried your face against Hoseok's chest, further leaning into him as you cried aloud for the first time in front of them.
As Hoseok held you close with no intention of letting you go, he shared a look of mixed feelings with his fellow lover. It was then that they knew, you were becoming more and more human, meaning that your time was slowly coming closer to its end because why else would the black shuck had went forth the intention of hurting you in the first place?
You had to remember as soon as possible.
Just a short moment later, Hoseok turned back to you, cupping your face in his palm as he called upon your name. The sight of your tears and how afraid you were made both the god's hearts shattered. Gently, Hoseok wiped the trail of tears from your eyes and leaned down, delivering two delicate kisses on each of your eyelids while Yoongi stood behind you, dropping a kiss just atop the crown of your head.
"Don't cry," the older god hushed softly.
"You'll be alright," Hoseok chimed in, voice just as soft as Yoongi's as he offered you a smile. "As long as we're here, nothing can harm you."
They could see the dilation of your eyes, how they widened at the god's gestures and soft words and how your tears no longer fell from those star-like irises. Despite the darkness that surrounded them, they could see the way your cheeks rosed slightly, returning a shy smile as you casted your eyes down at the ground from shyness.
The two gods practically melted from the sight before sharing a smile towards each other.
"There's a place we'd like to show you," Yoongi turned as he grabbed your hand. Although confused, you followed after the two gods either way.
They led you to a place they knew you'd love, the very same place your grandmother had once always taken you when she had been strong enough to walk on her own. Another nostalgic feeling filled your heart but rather than dwelling too much on it, you smiled at the beautiful sight above you and breathed in the night breeze.
You glowed under the stars, looking even more ethereal and mesmerizing than your usual daily looks. It was your home, the stars, the galaxy, that was where you belonged, not in the mortal realm but with them in the home of the stars.
Yet how were the two gods going to help you regain your memories?
❥❥❥
There was something wrong. You had no idea what it was or why you had just felt it but for some unknown reason, you just knew that something was wrong. At this point you weren't so very surprised with the things you felt anymore, they had been going on for some months now, since the moment you had met Hoseok and Yoongi, that strange feeling you'd feel without a reason.
"Guk?"
"Hm?"
"There's something missing."
Pressing his lips together he looked at you with a raised brow, Jungkook asked, "What do you mean?"
You gave him a light reluctant shrug. "There's just...I don't know," you sighed in frustration. "I feel complete with them, like they've filled an empty space in me but there's just something, like I'm missing a part of me."
You didn't know whether Jungkook knew what you meant but he did, of course he did, he had always understood everything you meant even though you hadn't been the best person to explain things clearly. Maybe it was because the two of you had been friends forever or maybe it was just because he knew. Either way, it'd confuse you every time but you never did had the time to dwell on it because you'd be too busy trying to explain things (and failing).
"I don't know how to explain it," you groaned.
"That's alright," your best friend chuckled as he ruffled your head. "Only time can reveal these questions inside this little head of yours."
Maybe that was the answer; that time would reveal everything. But why did you felt like time was only getting shorter for you? That gradually, despite getting to know more and more about Hoseok and Yoongi, that you were also slipping away from them at the same time? You couldn't understand it and that was what frustrated you the most.
If only someone could just tell you what was going on. Why you were falling for these two men whom you've came to know about just two months ago, why a black shuck even appeared in front of you, and how every time you found yourself lost or sad or in danger, Hoseok and Yoongi were there as if they knew. Knew.
You were even beginning to question your own best friend. Perhaps he was even part of...whatever this was and that he knew more than he was showing.
"Let's head out, you need some fresh air," Jungkook said as he got up from the sofa and holding out an arm for you to take. "Come on," the man gestured, "staying coped up in here isn't going to help anything, little goddess."
Little goddess...little goddess?
You began to pounder on that word, that strange yet familiar word before your friend grabbed your hand and dragged you off of your sofa, taking you out of your daze.
"Guk~" you whined, not wanting to go anywhere but having no other choice as Jungkook dragged you towards the entrance door. "But Oreo—"
"Your little doggy will be fine."
And with that, he led you out, not listening to a word of your protests.
You should had seen it coming when the two of you ended up walking in the woods, that something would just cross your path. First it had been the wolves—who strangely acted like normal packs of dogs crowding you for attention, and then you saw a black shuck, an underdog meant to only be a myth and not to actual cross your path.
But now that it had appeared once more, you were much more scared than the first night you had saw it. You knew, you just knew that this time Hoseok and Yoongi weren't going to show up.
Strange things had been happening to you lately and perhaps it was all due to the two men's presence. However you couldn't blame them, in fact it was more like they came into your life to somehow...save you?
You didn't know.
So you turned to the only person who had been with you the whole time—only to find Jungkook not there anymore and a strange white fox with nine tails replacing your best friend's presence.
A kitsune?
And before you knew it, the kitsune had pounced onto the black shuck, causing bright lights to ensue right before you and you closed your eyes shut at the sight. When you opened your eyes again, you could see mists of blackness slowly dissolving away with the kitsune being the only animal left.
You panicked the second it's body turned back to look at you straight in the eyes and you fell on your bottom. It slowly approached you but with you being scared still, you backed away out of fear.
"Please don't hurt me."
But right after you spoke the pled, the kitsune was already jumping into your lap. You couldn't scream or do anything before feeling a familiar calmness entrusting through your body and you're left to have serene flowing through you once more. The kitsune has just done that, protected you and eased your nerves.
But that wasn't what surprised you.
No.
You've heard many tales of the kitsune being of a magical guardian animal who watched over humans and protecting them. What surprised you was the familiar energy it gave off, the familiar aura it had around it and you felt it. You felt how wonderful the feeling was, that same aura your best friend always had around him.
"I will never hurt you, little goddess."
And everything made sense.
Jungkook wasn't an actual human, he was a guardian kitsune, your guardian kitsune.
It explained everything, how he knew so much about you and understood you in such a deep level without you even having to explain things. He was watching over you. Jungkook always had that strange ability to be able to calm you down during any situation no matter how panicked you'd get at times with just a simple touch of his. You had always wondered about how strange he was but never really dwelled too much on it.
But if Jungkook was your personal guardian, then that had to mean something, right? There had to be a meaning behind it all otherwise why would such a powerful deity be specifically watching over you?
With just a simple confused look, Jungkook could already tell what was going on in your mind and the little fox simply smiled at you.
"Remember; the sun, moon, and stars made the beautiful galaxy, little star goddess."
Star goddess...Galaxy...
Tiny sparks of light flashed before your eyes and you heard the faint, familiar soft laughters that you'd always hear in your dreams. Those same melodies that had rung in your head even after you've stopped dreaming. But rather now, you realized it hadn't been just a dream.
No, it was much more. And Hoseok and Yoongi were much more. And finally after many failed conclusions, you were finally able to grasp the answer you had been looking for the whole time, that they had been the answer the whole time; Hoseok and Yoongi, Yoongi and Hoseok...and you. A Galaxy. The stars, moon, and sun.
Suddenly, every word your grandmother had spoken of, of the wonderful story she had told you was beginning to make sense and you knew then that it hadn't been just a random story but it was your story, your life.
And you remembered.
The love shared between the two gods that had once been forbidden due to past "mistakes," breaking a rule, sharing a soft, delicate kiss under the bright moonlight, and giving the world beautiful blinding stars. And you were there amongst them as the goddess of stars, falling in love with the two heartbroken gods, creating distance from one another until your last breath was taken away and the two gods were finally able to see the truth.
But because they had felt their love had been wrong in the first place with no one listening to your warnings, after your death, you had been cursed to live upon the earth, becoming a mortal, and losing all your memories. Jin, the god of fate and prophecies was able to find you years later after the rebirth of the stars, and now everyone was waiting for you to return while Hoseok and Yoongi went down to the mortal realm to walk with you themselves.
You were keeping them all waiting; the gods and goddesses, specifically the four gods from above whom you'd manage some close relation to, Jungkook who had been watching you from day one, even the mortal beings who's heard of your story, and your lovers.
And as you stared down at the beautiful white kitsune still seated on your lap, he simply hummed in delight, tails swaying from side to side as his blue eyes casted back at yours.
"They're waiting," Jungkook said, then gave you one last nuzzle before hopping off of you.
You didn't needed to be told twice and with the hint of knowing where your gods would be, you got off the ground and ran towards the hill, hoping and wishing it wasn't too late as the tears began forming at your waterline.
But of course, they were there. They were always there whenever you needed them. And as the view became clearer, distance closing in, you couldn't help but let the tears fall. You finally understood everything, from the moment you first saw them, why you felt so connected, why you were finally able to fall in love, and why there had been a nostalgic feeling stabbing your heart. It was them all along, those feelings reserved only for them from the second you had been born—twice.
It was them.
"I'm sorry." You fell into their arms, their warm hugs reserved only for you and each other, and you couldn't help but to cry aloud from both the nostalgic feeling and happiness.
"Took you a while," Yoongi softly joked as he caressed your face, gently wiping away your tears as he placed a delicate kiss on your forehead. You smiled at the sensation but still couldn't keep from crying. They laughed lightly at the sight with soft, loving eyes that were once again reserved for only you and each other.
"Hey," Hoseok called to you gently. "Your tears are too precious for you to be crying over this."
"My tears are of a whole galaxy," you said, "I'll cry them all just for you."
The two of them practically melted at your words before they went on to hold you even closer.
"We miss you," Hoseok whispered.
"I miss you too," you sighed a content breath of air, feeling as if you were taking your first real breath as a true goddess who would be able to stay as herself for the rest of her immortal life.
"Thank you, Jungkook."
At Yoongi's words, you released yourself from your god's grasps and turned around to find a smiling Jungkook. Part of you still couldn't believe he had knew about your true form all along. But then with him knowing almost everything about you, you could tell he wasn't just a normal human being, he was a guardian, a kitsune god who had watched over you.
"It is an honor to help the gods and goddess of the galaxy," Jungkook said.
You stared at Jungkook with soft eyes. He had been your faithful best friend and guardian who had watched over you since the moment you had been reborn as a human. "Will you take care of little Oreo for me?" You asked and he nodded at your request. You'd miss him but you knew the Earth wasn't your home. You belonged to the Galaxy with your two gods, that was your true home.
"Thank you, Jungkook."
With a soft smile, Jungkook mused, "Anytime, little goddess."
When you returned, the streaks of stars, blue and purple reappeared on your hair and descended down to the ground, while your dress glowed of the same galaxy and your eyes twinkled of the stars once more. The gods and goddesses all welcomed you back. Warm smiles had been shared all around and the stars shined a little brighter.
You saw the merging of the two palaces and glowed at the mere realization that both of them were allowed the freedom of loving each other. That nostalgic feeling still stood in your heart but at the moment, you felt more happy than anything. Everything had been just as beautiful as you remembered, perhaps even more with the fact that your gods' love were no longer forbidden.
You returned to your normal routine, bringing up the sun with Hoseok during the day and lighting up the stars and moons with Yoongi during the night. Your life was placed back to where it was supposed to be and you couldn't ask for more, simply loving the blissful times with your gods.
"I can't believe I was gone for so long," you breathed softly. "I miss this."
When you looked up at your gods, their eyes softened at you and two light kisses were placed upon your head. At moments like this, you were glad for being immortal and given the lucky chance to live with them for the rest of your life.
They were the part that you missed and loved the most out of everything in the Galaxy.
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holdinbacksecrets · 6 years
Text
there’s no way 2
Part 1 @shortermfjxes
The bay window was inviting on the days you came home. After long trips to the states, Europe, or even a short outing, over coffee, breakfast. The moments when you needed to breathe. After hours, days, of forgetting to exhale.
You’d unlock the windows hinges. The air caressing your skin. The mug of tea perched on the window sill. Your body enveloped with one of many oversized sweaters. They were your moms, from college. The winters were freezing in Minnesota and she always smiled sharing the stories. How her boyfriend back home missed not being the one to hold her through the night. Your dad rolled his eyes, coaxing your mother to him, asking why she was so enthralled by her college boyfriend.
It has become something of a tradition. Over Christmas break, your family and yourself would stay up late, with the fire crackling and music keeping your spirits light. Times of reminiscing, nights you favored. You’d rather be there, in the living room, covered in a blanket, with your head resting on the plush sofa in solitude, then alone in your childhood bedroom, thinking of the man who wasn’t yours, but you wished on every star that one day he would be.
Your mother cherished honesty and loves that were true. She told you to be strong and brave. To keep your heart secure. Where it was safe until it was worthy of being given to someone who’d protect it.
One night, after your father and older brother had bid their good nights, you and your mother watched the fire. Your nose fell to the hot chocolate held tightly in your grasp, hints of cinnamon lapped in decadent chocolate. You felt alive and surrounded by love. Every day was enveloped in a happiness you only knew as being home.
“How are you, dear?”
You hadn’t anticipated your mother’s voice, cutting smoothly through the soft music and sounds, filtering through the windows.
“I’m good, mom. Always happy to be home.” Your lips turn up, catching the change in your mother’s expression. Her features were beautiful, timeless. You were always in awe of her. From the way she spoke to the way she moved. The way she held herself. It took you back to your childhood, watching from your parents bedroom doorway as she sat in front of her vanity, applying makeup, choosing the perfect perfume for the day ahead.
“And Toronto? Everything is ok? Your love?”
You wanted to respond quickly, never missing a beat, but lying was pointless. She knew you so well. And she showed it in the way she spoke of the man back home, doing business, not being able to travel home with you. She called him your love, pestering you, wanting you to wake up and admit that he was the farthest from a love you wanted. A love you deserved.
“Love is hard, mom.”
She rises from her position across the room, gliding to you. A hand, with its delicate touch, is placed on your knee. Her bright eyes looking deeply into yours.
“You’re not happy. I can see it, dear. You’re so special, so worthy of a love who sees all that you are. Some can’t handle the brightness of your light.” Her touch feathers your rosy cheeks and you look away. She spoke in words and phrases that made you feel extraordinary, like you were this precious gift of life, worthy of more than you could see.
“If I’m so bright, why can’t he see me?”
“Oh dear, you’ve blinded him.” She smiles, bringing her lips to your cheek. “It’s all in you, you just have to take it and run.”
——-
The tip of your finger traces the mugs rim. It’s hot against your touch. The dark liquid steaming up in swirls, scents of chamomile and dandelion.
You wanted your heart to be taken care of. To be cherished and valued by a man who understood how hard it was, being vulnerable. The storms and walls of fear growing out of childhood nightmares and inevitable breakups. When he left you with broken promises and forgotten secrets in his bed, when the lights were low and the love you’d mistaken for something else, filled the room in vibrant color. The boy you had given your heart to years ago, wrapped up with care and presented with a beautiful bow.
Your mother’s words crowded your mind throughout the day, and the rest of the weekend. That night was bookmarked as a memory you couldn’t help but visit often. During the times he was away again. Leaving you in an empty apartment. An apartment that was too big for two people. With multiple bedrooms and dust accumulated paintings. Paintings you’d collected over the years in your travels. Connecting to the mystery each one held, but the colors didn’t match. He’d say. I don’t want to disturb this vision. He’d declare, kissing your forehead, offering more I love yous then you could handle. The meaning becoming nonexistent, wondering what it meant to him, feeling hollow to you.
When your bodies became one the nights he came back. When you sat at the kitchen table, eating breakfast, hands interlocked on the table. He’d pull his away to turn the page of the newspaper or add something to the proposal document. When he came home from a long night and you tried telling him about your day. “What was that honey? Sorry I’m just so busy - - I love you.”
Your mind fell into the pattern of relieving yourself from those moments, creating the perfect mornings with Shawn. What you’d create in the dark, with overwhelming love that consumed you. He’d listen as you told him about your day. And you’d feel heard and special, like you mattered. Like you were more than the way he made you feel. Never using you as an accessory. “You’re beautiful. Let me show you off tonight.”
You wanted to dance in your love. To music that wasn’t playing besides the harmonies of your happiness and contentment. So you practiced, in front of the mirror, how you’d end it, regardless of Shawn, what he means to you.
“Are you ok?” He asked at dinner, turning the phone away from his ear. “You’ve barely touched the risotto.”
“I’m just not very hungry.”
So he nods, excusing himself. His voice growing louder over the phone. Leaving you in candlelight, pouring yourself more wine, standing from the expensive chair, walking to the patio.
You wrap your sweater tighter around your body, swirling the glass, watching the liquid funnel up the sides, admiring the view, thinking of him.
But it’s not going there. When you’re over here, far away. Living in a world of broken promises and false investing, but every second with Shawn, and you craved another.
“When you’re in love. When you have a man who can give you everything you need. He can take care of you, and that’s what mattered.”
But everything else.. The dates. As they dwindled, growing farther in between. His touch. As your bodies response disappeared with time.
The vacations of a dream brought to reality. Wanting them to never end. Wanting to stay, where ever it was.
So you walk inside, where he’s waiting at the table. His jaw tense. The phone glued to his ear. You walk to your room, ignoring your name on his tongue. Pulling the duffle from the closet. Grabbing your moms sweaters and black jeans. The paintings you adored.
‘Are you home?’
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@vnv21
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thebluelemontree · 6 years
Note
Hi there! I love your meta. I was wondering what your thoughts are on the fact that the sansa and sandor relationship seems to be a complete secret from everyone. including (especially) littlefinger. i have a few ideas but i'd like to hear your thoughts. :)
Thanks!  Sorry for the long wait.  I think the relationship is well camouflaged for a few good reasons.  Long post ahead.   
Let’s start with Sandor’s life experience at court and what makes him so particularly good at navigating around all the intrigues and informants.  
As far as “players” go, mainly we’re talking about Cersei, Varys, Littlefinger, and Tyrion, the ones who make it their business to learn as much as they can to stay a step ahead of everyone else.  Of course, they don’t consider each other players of equal caliber either.  In LF’s case, he thinks he is the only player; however, there is a common intellectual arrogance and bias among them.  Only a tiny handful of privileged, educated people are playing at the high-stakes table.  They tend to be far more attuned to other players at that table as this is THE game, the only game that really matters.  Other players are people they might consider an obstacle, threat, or a competitive rival for their objectives.  People that display a similar (yet still inferior) level of cunning to their own.    
That bias can lead to blind spots when it comes to how they look at non-players with their small lives and small ambitions.  Generally they are unworthy of interest unless they have something they want or are keys to unlock an advantage against another player.  Then they become a potentially playable pawn.  The next step would be to learn the pawn’s secrets or what motivates them to know how to play them.  They can’t imagine any pawn would be smart enough to be aware of a player making moves on them, let alone be able to put up a successful defense against it or manipulate a player outright.  Granted these people in question are undoubtedly intelligent and there are many who lend themselves easily to becoming pawns; however, I would argue that it’s very easy to manipulate people that already trust you or who want to believe in what you’re selling.  It’s much harder to manipulate shrewd people.  He’d never admit it, but it’s exactly why LF doesn’t even attempt to fuck with Stannis directly.  And very much like Stannis, Sandor has blanket mistrust of everyone starting at a young age.  Growing up around Gregor would also make him more hypervigilant than most, followed by his many years guarding Cersei that would only increase his cynicism.  And that’s really all it takes to immunize yourself against becoming a pawn most of the time:  awareness and a healthy amount of skepticism.          
Sansa is new to this world in AGOT and she comes to it a guileless open book. Cersei can easily figure out how to tease out usable information with Sansa’s innocence and trusting nature.  Littlefinger will later use her love of knights and songs coupled with the pressure of her situation to get her to leave with Dontos.  Again, no one should be congratulating themselves for being smart enough to manipulate a preteen that wears her heart on her sleeve.  Sandor is aware and he does try to educate Sansa that she needs to keep her guard up, learn to lie better to protect herself, trust no one, and use her instincts to figure out the truth behind the lies. 
Sandor Clegane snorted. “Pretty thing, and such a bad liar. A dog can smell a lie, you know. Look around you, and take a good whiff. They’re all liars here … and every one better than you.“  – Sansa II, ACOK.
While he’s otherwise displayed complete loyalty to his masters, Sandor the person has spent his life locked down tighter than a crab’s ass.  It takes a lot of conscious effort to keep all your true thoughts and opinions to yourself.  The mouth twitch reveals how often he suppresses those urges.  “Sandorspeak” is another.  There will be a few moments where some things do slip in front of others, but we’ll get to that later.  He’s also a character that is known for oddly being both imposing and easily recognizable to also making himself almost blend into the background of a scene.  With prying eyes everywhere looking for something of interest to pop up on their radar, being as unassuming as possible is a useful skill.  Sandor is also just as capable of using deception as any player.  I recall a line Varys says to Tyrion:
The eunuch took a cloak from a peg. It was roughspun, sun-faded, and threadbare, but very ample in its cut. “If you will permit me.” When he swept it over Tyrion’s shoulders it enveloped him head to heel, with a cowl that could be pulled forward to drown his face in shadows. “Men see what they expect to see,” Varys said as he fussed and pulled. “Dwarfs are not so common a sight as children, so a child is what they will see. A boy in an old cloak on his father’s horse, going about his father’s business. – Tyrion III, ACOK.
This exact tactic is utilized by Sandor while trying to smuggle Arya into the Twins.  He shrouds his face, changes his vocabulary to sound common, has a plausible backstory to go with it, and he successfully fools Ser Donnel Haigh, a knight that knows him personally.  That’s pretty incredible for a guy with a half-burned face and distinctive rasp.  He pulls it off because he understands how Ser Donnel thinks:
“How come he didn’t know you, then?” Arya asked.
“Because knights are fools, and it would have been beneath him to look twice at some poxy peasant.” He gave the horses a lick with the whip. “Keep your eyes down and your tone respectful and say ser a lot, and most knights will never see you. They pay more mind to horses than to smallfolk. He might have known Stranger if he’d ever seen me ride him.” – Arya X, ASOS.
“Men see what they expect to see” and that goes for the players too.  Of course, we have all the other examples of Sandor knowing how to lie convincingly depending on who he’s talking to.  Speaking of Varys, we know his spies have looked at Sandor at least from time to time.  His position as “Cersei’s dog” makes him a natural person of interest for those seeking an advantage over the queen or prince.  As Varys confirms to Tyrion, the Hound drinks, gambles, and whores on his off time.  Boringly typical manly man stuff befitting his station as a soldier.  No extreme vices or skeletons in the closet that could be used as leverage.  No large outstanding debts.  He can’t be bribed into disloyalty.  He displays no ambitions or greed for more than what he has.  He just seems to be exactly what he looks like on the surface.  A quasi-educated brute that is smart enough to know his place and is content to live on what his masters give him.    
“And when you know what a man wants you know who he is, and how to move him.“  These are Littlefinger’s words to Sansa.  Who else has any inkling that Sandor wants anything beyond what he already has except Sansa?  No one.  I think this line from Littlefinger to Ned shows that Littlefinger in the past has given some thought on how he could possibly move the Hound to become his asset.
“Even a blind man could see the Hound loathed his brother.”
“Ah, but Gregor was his to loathe, not yours to kill. Once Dondarrion lops the summit off our Mountain, the Clegane lands and incomes will pass to Sandor, but I wouldn’t hold my water waiting for his thanks, not that one.” 
If Littlefinger honestly thought he could win Sandor over by having his brother eliminated, he probably would have made it happen already; however, he knows the lands and incomes are not going to cause Sandor to change sides.  Not when that “favor” would come from the likes of Littlefinger with certain expectations for it.  Again, see the Stannis quote which uses similar phrasing of “X won’t be sufficiently grateful for your help.”  Littlefinger steers clear of shrewd people (and you can add Myranda Royce to that list) to begin with.  They don’t want anything he’s selling.  Sandor’s hatred for Gregor isn’t really the useful tool it would seem as there’s no way to capitalize on it.  He’s an apparently uncrackable combination lock.  Because no player can imagine that what Sandor truly wants and lacks is empathy and validation (something that can only come from genuine human connection), he’s not a movable chess piece for any of them.  There are far easier targets with more obvious vulnerabilities to make use of instead like Janos Slynt, Dontos Hollard, and Lancel Lannister.    
There’s also good deal of classism in play here as well.  Like most other people pretty low on the social hierarchy, they tend to be underestimated, overlooked, and ignored by their “betters.”  Indeed, Sandor himself is also convinced it is his lot in life to be nothing more than a guard dog.  There’s no point in wanting anything more than that as it will only lead to rejection or compromising the few principles he has.  This part at least isn’t a deliberate act.  He’s been so consistent at being the Hound for so long that even when he eventually does slip a little when it comes to Sansa, no one is picking it up and examining it.    
Sansa is assumed to be exactly what she appears.  A delicate, helpless, and insipid little girl too cowed by fear to do anything but recite her courtesies and prayers.  As Dontos tells her, being severely underestimated in every way makes her almost invisible and she can use that to her advantage.  
“Joffrey and his mother say I’m stupid.”
“Let them. You’re safer that way, sweetling. Queen Cersei and the Imp and Lord Varys and their like, they all watch each other keen as hawks, and pay this one and that one to spy out what the others are doing, but no one ever troubles themselves about Lady Tanda’s daughter, do they?”        
As time goes on, no one really troubles themselves with Sansa either unless there’s a specific reason.  Mostly she’s left alone and free to wander the castle, so there’s no fear that she’s capable of escaping or making allies.  Her maids are Cersei’s spies, but Sansa already guessed that.  Everyone is convinced (well, except Sandor) it’s her dumb, childish piety that drives her to the godswood so much.  Just by their respective circumstances and the plot, Sandor and Sansa were already as individuals hiding in the blind spots of the major players.
With that all said, why would anyone imagine for a second that Sandor and Sansa would have anything to do with each other?  Sandor has been an unwavering loyal Lannister servant since he was a boy and that makes him an enemy of the Starks.  He’s hard, mean, and rough mannered.  His face is considered terrifyingly ugly.  He’s shown no attachments or compassion for any other human being before.  He’s cynical about everything Sansa stands for.  Likewise, Sansa openly admires physically beautiful and gallant knights like Ser Loras.  Everything Sandor is not.  There’s also a huge chasm of class difference between them.  Highborn ladies do not fraternize with lowborn men, especially one as coarse and offensive as the Hound.  It goes without saying that nothing draws more immediate attention in this society than people transgressing class boundaries. There’s just no way either one would speak to the other in a too familiar way in public.  On paper, they could not be more different from each other for the idea to even occur to anyone.
There’s also the very deliberate gradual pacing of the relationship.  It all unfolds very slowly with time, circumstance, and natural chemistry.  It’s a relationship that defies any clear definition or obvious markers that someone could theoretically hone in on.  They both have issues of immaturity and inability to consciously understand what exactly this thing is between them.   Neither one intentionally seeks the other out to initiate more contact nor are they actively trying to further a relationship.  Until the night of the Blackwater, they were always brought together for other reasons not of their making.  Most often it’s because Joffrey commands the presence of both to be there.  Other times it’s pure chance like the serpentine steps or the top of Maegor’s Holdfast.  None of their more intimate conversations take place where there’s a possibility of someone following or overhearing.  If there’s nothing planned or intentional, there’s nothing to draw suspicion.  
There’s just not enough happening in front of witnesses either for a single character to notice a discernable pattern.  Often there are large enough gaps of time between those moments and the witnesses, if there are any, can vary.        
After Sansa II, AGOT (the night of the Hand’s tourney), it won’t be until Sansa VI, AGOT that they actually speak again.  This is the chapter where Sansa is forced out of bed by Joffrey, made to look at her father’s head on the battlement, and Sandor reciprocates empathy and support for her.  I wrote about the specifics of this chapter here.  Joffrey, Meryn Trant, and Arys Oakheart are present for part of it.  This early on, if the Hound’s uncharacteristically softer and gentler behavior was noticed at all, it was probably promptly dismissed as nothing.  Meryn is apathetic to whatever happens and Arys was probably just relieved it wasn’t him ordered to hit Sansa.  After all, it was Joffrey’s order to get Sansa out of bed, which Sandor obeyed.  Dabbing the blood on her lip though?  Perhaps that part was a little strange that Sandor took it upon himself to dab her lip instead of handing her the handkerchief, but then again Joffrey commanded that Sansa wipe the blood from her face.  That’s not enough for anyone to think there’s something going on between them.      
Next would be Joffrey’s nameday tourney in Sansa I, ACOK.  Roughly a few weeks to a month has passed.  Those present are Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen.  I wrote about the subtle Sansan stuff going on here.  The children aren’t going to notice anything and Joffrey is too obtuse.  Lothor Brune (probably already Petyr’s hired sword at this point) and Dontos Hollard are also present.  Sansa made up the story about bad luck to kill a man on your nameday, but it’s the Hound backing up that nonsense that persuades Joffrey to relent for one day.  I don’t think that detail registers with either Lothor or Dontos.  Then Sansa speaks up again to convince Joffrey to make Dontos his fool instead.  It’s Lothor that probably conveys the story without mention of Sandor to Littlefinger, who would then have the idea to use Dontos as a pawn.  Dontos is probably too drunk and too terrified for his life to notice that Sandor also had a small part in saving his life.
It’s also in that chapter that word has reached KL that Jaime has been captured by Robb.  It’s mentioned a few times that if Sansa is harmed or killed, there could be retaliation on Jaime for it.  Because of Sandor’s long personal service and loyalty to Cersei, it would then make sense to frame Sandor’s protective actions toward Sansa as protecting Lannister interests.  During the bread riot, Tyrion orders that the Whitecloaks go back into the city to find Sansa for this reason.  But then Sandor arrives with Sansa in tow and Tyrion hears Sandor say: “The little bird's bleeding. Someone take her back to her cage and see to that cut."  All it sounds like is that Sandor is using a slightly irreverent epithet for a valuable hostage.  There’s no time for Tyrion to even think about that as his attention is quickly drawn away to the fires in Flea Bottom possibly reaching the stores of wildfire.  
Sandor’s actions in the public beating scene in Sansa III, ACOK could be explained the same way.  
"Enough," she heard the Hound rasp.
"No it isn't," the king replied. "Boros, make her naked."    
I think Joffrey is too fixated on mixing violence and sexuality for the first time to really notice Sandor’s defiance.  And giving Sansa his cloak to cover herself came at Tyrion’s prompting.  
And that’s it.  That’s all anyone ever sees.  Sansa never speaks a word to anyone that she ever had any connection to Sandor.  When she’s Alayne Stone, a girl with a completely different past, that part of her life gets partitioned off along with everything that belongs to Sansa Stark.  
You asked me specifically (and especially) about Littlefinger not knowing anything about their relationship.  I don’t think he has any more ability to figure it out than anyone else in KL and somehow failed to do so; however, the parallels between him and Sandor lead me to think that these two will be on opposing sides in the future fight to finally return Sansa to her Stark identity.  Both are from small, humble landed knight houses that were established by their grandfathers.  Both had their childhood idealism shattered in an event that involves almost dying and severe scarring.  They both became cynical towards the system and its institutions.  Both have/had romantic feelings toward a woman too highborn for them.  Not coincidentally those women are a mother and daughter.  Sandor has his Hound identity to be the “butcher” instead of the “meat.”  Petyr has his mockingbird to be the “player” instead of the “pawn.”  There are some really important differences as well.  Just on a basic level, one represents plain, blunt honesty and truth.  The other spins “lies and Arbor gold.”  While Sandor still has the idealist deeply buried under his cynicism, Petyr’s is completely dead.  Sandor finds his purpose in service to others and he is neither greedy nor ambitious.  Petyr’s job may be to serve the crown and he plays up being lowborn and non-threatening, but he lives to only serve himself, acquiring wealth, power, and titles.  Vengeance is a theme of both their stories.  Sandor actually refrained from killing his brother while Littlefinger’s pursuit of vengeance has no boundaries against those he feels have wronged him.  Thousands suffer and die because of him.  It’s possible to go on and on.  It’s clear the two have very similar origins and backstories but have taken very different paths and approaches to life.  Both have Sansa at the center of their journeys.  This should come full circle.  
Yeah, I think he will one day find out about the relationship between Sansa and Sandor and it will land on him like a meteor.  It’s something he could never account for in all his machinations and in the grooming of his perfect daughter-partner-lover.  Think of the burning humiliation and devastation he felt when he “lost” Catelyn to Brandon, then a second time to Ned.  That would be the original wound that festered for over 15 years the point of him kicking off the plot to the ASOIAF series.  Now multiply that by ten when he loses the girl all over again to another canid-sigiled guy with dark hair, gray eyes, and that same plain, Northern face.  I picture this reaction:
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bluekyun · 7 years
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A Touch of Comfort 3.
Pairing: Y O O N G I x R E A D E R
Genre: S M U T
Word Count: 2.362
Summary: “I think I’m going blind from your beauty.”
DRABBLE COLLECTION
Despite losing all patience with your best friend over the insinuation that you need a boyfriend before you die alone, you realize as more time passes that your blind date is quite impressive. He is no Casanova, but even in an alternate universe, you are certain that someone of that caliber wouldn’t even be close to your type. At first you were unsure if the man sitting before you would even be a good match, as his silent and slightly standoffish demeanor put you off at first. Compared to your positive and more bubbly personality, you figured that the match was an inevitable failure, but as both of you continued to talk, exchanging slight touches underneath the dining table, you realize that you have far more chemistry than you ever could have anticipated. Neither of you seem to notice how quickly time goes by until the entire restaurant nearly clears out of all its occupants.
 “We should probably leave before they decide to kick us out.” You suggest, flattening down your skirt and biting your bottom lip.
“Yeah.” Standing up from his chair, he walks beside you, offering his hand to help you stand. All you can do is smile, the sudden act of chivalry only forging goosebumps across your bare arms, his rough fingertips only sending shockwaves to your core. Just from the rough grasp he has on you, ideas begin to bombard your mind, scenarios of how he would be in bed as well as how his hands might feel in other places. Normally, you aren’t this promiscuous, but there is something about him that you find enchanting, a whisper begging you to latch onto him for dear life, sucking out his soul until he is nothing more than a stuttering mess between your legs.
 Just that image, now burned into the underside of your eyelids, is more than enough to begin the inevitable pool that would be your underwear, and as you walk out the restaurant doors, the friction, or more so lack of, begins to get to you.
 “I knew I was attractive, but you really know how to make a guy feel good about himself.”
 Glancing up, you watch as the lust glazes over his eyes, his focus skipping between your face and your legs. That’s when you notice the subconscious rubbing of your thighs, something you hadn’t realized you were doing until he so subtly pointed it out. Rolling your eyes, you try to dismiss his comment, instead focusing on keeping your legs apart so that just maybe you won’t fall victim to your own desires.
 But how long would that last?
 Opening the car door, you slide into the passenger seat of his black sedan, the leather seats and new car smell only acting as an aphrodisiac, as money has always been your biggest kink. It doesn’t solely decide your taste in men, but you would be lying if you didn’t acknowledge that it is indeed a preference of yours.
 With him situated in the driver’s seat, he shifts the beauty into drive, leaving the music to lull in the background. Neither of you say a word, as much of the conversation was maxed out over dinner, but even in the silence, you still feel the way his words sink into your skin, every hair standing on end as if every syllable is whispered directly into your ear.
Resting your head against the cool glass, you stare deeply into the night, etching out the glow of the crescent moon as it effortlessly blends into the dark sky. The air is peaceful, nothing more than a few cars on the road as they return home after their late-night escapades. You, too, are part of this pack, but you desperately wish you weren’t. You aren’t ready to end the day. All that preoccupies your mind is the way his lips moved every time he said a word, or the way he would present a sly half-assed smile whenever the waiter came around to check on you. Every small move he made, the way he held his silverware, how he sipped his drink, and especially the way he licked his lips every so often god it is all eating away at your resolve quickly, and more than anything you just want his lips on your own.
 The moment you feel a warm hand land upon the flesh of your thigh, you look over to see a cocky smile on his face, his vision focused entirely on the road ahead but his mind clearly elsewhere. You both seem to be on the same wavelength, but it is not in you to act so easy (despite wishing you would cave just this once) so instead, you return back to the window, the endless trees seeming more like nothing as you are completely distracted by the way his fingers begin to delicately tap against your skin.
 At first, he begins slow, tapping each finger in succession, but when he notices that you have yet to give him a response, he turns it up a notch. The tapping progresses to rubbing, his fingertips etching circles as your skin ignites in their path, but still, you are not ready to show the effect he has on you. For a short period, he stays like this, a collection of figure eights, circles, and at one point you’re almost certain he wrote fuck me on the inside of your leg, and although you find it quite amusing and absolutely hot, you decide to see what other ideas he might have for you.
 After all, you love to play games.
 In the reflection of the window, you notice the way he bites his lips, a clear sign of contemplation as he prepares his next test. You expect something along the lines of squeezing, petting, or even dirty words, but of course he is a man of many surprises.
 Within an instant, his fingers are against your core, nothing but the thin layer of your panties keeping him from the wet mess that is hidden underneath.
 “So wet for me already, baby?” The smirk on his face only makes you want to smack him, but it would be a lie to say you didn’t want it.
 In your mind, you know you should stay stoic, but considering that between the both of you, he is in the most vulnerable and unfortunate position, you decide to take advantage of this golden opportunity. With one hand gripping onto his arm, you desperately grind into his palm, allowing every sigh and moan to fall from your lips unhindered. Leaning your head back, you watch from the corner of your eye as his jaw drops in shock, your boldness only throwing him off slightly until he regains composure.
 For a while he lets you use his arm as a toy, the streaks of arousal on his skin only fueling his ego and desire, his boner only aching inside the confines of his slacks. He wants nothing more than to see you reach your high simply from using him like this, but he also can’t dismiss the thought of how you might feel around his hardened dick, so tight and wet until you’re doing nothing but screaming his name.
 He can’t wait any longer.
 “Uh… Yoongi. You’re swerving quite a bit there.”
 Returning to reality, he realizes that his death grip on the steering wheel has done little to keep the car in a straight line, as he is now caught in the middle of two lanes going at least ten over the speed limit. Releasing his arm, you allow him to take control of the vehicle once more, but when you see his arm glistening from your moment of fun, you feel a sense of pride. This will be his downfall, and you know already that he is the kind of man who cannot resist a sight such as that.
 When he pulls over on the side of the road, you let out a small chuckle at his impatience and utter insanity. He is so desperate for you that he would rather fuck in the middle of nowhere than wait to get home so he can ravish you on the bed.
 “Get in the back. Now.” The gruffness of his voice sends another wave of electricity, more arousal pooling at your entrance by his sheer dominance.
 Doing as you’re told, you climb over the middle compartment into the spacious back and wait patiently as he removes his seatbelt. Climbing over, he joins you, and the moment you are within reach, he has a strong hold on your waist.
 “Take off your shirt.” You comply without question, removing the garment until you are left sitting in your baby blue bra.
 For a moment he doesn’t say much of anything, instead staring and fluttering his eyelashes as he scans you from top to bottom.
 “I think I’m going blind from your beauty.”
 Those words fall from his tongue effortlessly, almost as if he never meant to say them at all, but it doesn’t stop the pink from appearing on your cheeks, the raw compliment only leaving you speechless and filled with warmth.
 Using one hand, he unbuckles his belt, removing his hardened member from the depths of his pants. The head is throbbing and already dripping with precum, the veins apparent even in the darkness.
 “Come here…” His voice is nothing more than a whisper, his prior demeanor now lost in the wind as he looks at you fondly. Something within him switched, the persona no longer present as he drops the walls between you and his very soul.
 It’s not often that someone is able to see this side of him, the part of him that cares deeply for others and loves with his whole heart, and although he keeps that side reserved for the ones who become solidified in his life, there is something about you that he cannot ignore, the sense of comfort and attraction he feels unlike anything he’s ever experienced.
 Straddling over the space on his lap, you reach down to move your underwear to the side. With both hands on his shoulders, you find yourself in the reflection of his pupils, the small moment of sincerity before you lean in closely, ghosting your lips over his. With a free hand, he finds solace in the crook of your neck, pressing you against him until the kiss is nothing more than gentle touches and quiet sighs. His lips, soft as feathers, mesh perfectly with your own, the taste of him, a mix of brandy and spices, only causing your head to spin. From underneath, you feel him line himself up with your entrance before he pushes himself inside, stretching you slightly as you become situated with his length. Neither of you break the kiss, and with both of his hands on your hips, he allows you to move, a mixture grinding and riding as you try to find the right angle. Leaning back slightly, you purr the moment his tip reaches that golden spot, the tingling sensation reaching all the way to your fingertips.
 “Right there.” The words strain to come out as he continues to hit it over and over, his grip on you now much tighter as you slam against him, nothing but the sound of skin against skin resounding inside the car.
 The ministrations from earlier already had you reaching your peak, and even though you thought the feelings would have died down a bit in the absence of his arm, you quickly realize that really, not much has changed. He seems to notice how close you are, as you are no longer able to kiss in a fluid manner, instead your mouth left hanging open as you bask in the oncoming of your orgasm. Allowing you to enjoy yourself, he simply leans back, admiring the way you look while riding him, likely the most attractive image he has ever seen in his entire life.
 He continues to thrust into you, matching the way your hips hit against him, and quickly there is nothing but mewls and groans coming from the depths of your throat.
 “Fuck… I’m so-… close.”
 Licking his lips, he increases his pace, using one hand to draw circles against your clit, your dripping arousal only coating his fingers as he slowly applies more pressure.
 “Baby, let go for me.”
 Those five little words push you over the edge, the stimulation finally catching up to you as the knot in your stomach finally releases, the wave of euphoria only producing stars of white behind your closed lids. No longer able to form coherent thoughts, you give in, falling forward with your head against his shoulder as he helps your ride your high until the very last breath.
 Both of you sit there, you half unconscious on his lap while he rubs your back lovingly, leaving gentle kisses against your hair. Despite still being undeniably horny and harder than he’s ever been, he still finds himself wanting nothing more than to just hold you in his arms.
 With your breathing now even, you sit up and place tender kisses along his jaw, leaving one final one atop his nose, an act so cringe worthy that he can’t help but look at you with pure disgust by how undeniably adorable yet demeaning it was. His reaction is so pure that you begin laughing uncontrollably, your fit becoming contagious as he submits to the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.
 Once you’re able to catch your breath, your abdomen panging with the sudden exercise, you relax, and in the dim lighting from the moon, you give him a quick peck on the lips before a sudden thought crosses your mind.
 “Wait, what about you?”
 Looking down, he remembers his predicament. He became so focused on you that his own pleasure nearly slipped his mind.
 “We can finish that at my place.” He responds, smiling gently before pulling you against his chest, snuggling into your hair as if it is the most comfortable place on Earth.
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sowhatisthisfor · 7 years
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My favourite films of 2016
For 2016, I was able to watch 197 movies. Here are the 50 best films I’ve seen in 2016 (I have weird taste in films, I am told):
Top 50:
50.  Rosita [Frederikke Aspock, 2015, Denmark] 
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a momentous character-driven drama on relationships & sacrifices shown through natural & credible performances. 8/10
49. Un Homme Ideal [Yann Gozlan, 2015, France] 
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a film spectacularly structured, it’s both suspenseful and unpredictable. 8/10
48. Neruda [Pablo Larrain, 2016, Chile] 
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Virtually poetic, contextually lyrical. 8/10
47.   Mon Roi [Claire Maïwenn, 2016, France] 
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With a narrative so hard to withstand, the riveting performances of Bercot and Cassel made this a must watch. 8/10
46. 10 Cloverfield Lane [Dan Trachtenberg, 2016, United States] 
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It’s wicked in a way that’s perfectly good. 8/10
45.  Rogue One: A Star Wars Story [Gareth Edwards, 2016, United States] 
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If only for its third act, this is already worth every penny. 8/10
44.  Purgatoryo [Derick Cabrido, 2016, Philippines]
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Reminds me a lot of ‘Oros’ only with some serious technique and distinct visual style. 8/10
43.  Theeb [Naji Abu Nowar, 2015, Jordan]
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For a newcomer, Nowar is a delightful surprise and so is Eid who did perfect in this film. 8/10
42.  Elle [Paul Verhoeven, 2016, France]
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has one of the most intriguing antihero characters played perfectly well by Huppert. 8/10
41. Don’t Breathe [Fede Alvarez, 2016, United States] 
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Alvarez has some serious skills to make this suspenseful with only a blind villain inside a small house. 8/10
40. The Conjuring 2 [James Wan, 2016, Untied States]
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I guess I just can’t really be scared of something this good. No dull moment. So human. Much love for this. 9/10
39. Tuos [Derick Cabrido, 2016, Philippines]
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 Visually alluring with winning performances, it’s almost hypnotic. 9/10 
38. I’ll See You In My Dreams [Brett Haley, 2015, United States] 
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So true about the death I know and the death I don’t know. So true about everything actually. 9/10
37. Green Room [Jeremy Saulnier, 2016, United States]
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a lot of fun, tension, blood, and cinematic excellence. My type of film, really. 9/10
36. Veloce Come Il Vento [Matteo Rovere, 2016, Italy]
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Funny, gripping, touching. I enjoyed every single moment of it. 9/10
35. Mercury is Mine [Jason Paul Laxamana, 2016, Philippines] 
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Quite a reflection of colonial mentality and the acute patronage of the superficial. 9/10
34. Goodnight Mommy [Veronika Franz, Severin Fiala, 2015, Austria] 
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As cold and effective as it aims to be. 9/10
33. Sakaling Hindi Makarating [Ice Idanan, 2016, Philippines]
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 In w/c you try to find yourself in far-flung places, & in doing so found someone equally lost. 9/10
32. Saving Sally [Avid Liongoren, 2016, Philippines] 
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Is the freshest and has the most creative visual style I’ve seen in a long long time. I want more of it. 9/10
31. Oro [Alvin Yapan, 2016, Philippines]
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Shows oppression and lopsidedness in equally lopsided frames. Amazing set of cast. 9/10
30. The Wailing [Na Hong-jin, 2016, South Korea]
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 An exhausting watch with an even more incredibly vexing inner context. 10/10
29. Grandma [Paul Weitz, 2015, United States]
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 I love the story, I love how it unfolds, and I love how it will live in me for sure. 10/10
28. The Survivalist [Stephen Fingleton, 2015, United Kingdom] 
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A long-lived representation of how people choose to risk their survival for fidelity and solicitude. 10/10
27. The Kids [Sunny Yu, 2015, Taiwan] 
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an engaging portrait of a struggling young couple’s journey to parenthood told convincingly well. 10/10
26. Guernica [Koldo Serra, 2016, Spain] 
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a little too overscored, but really great overall. 10/10 
25. Kubo and the Two Strings [Travis Knight, 2016, United States]
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 has a heartfelt storytelling of the melancholic nature of humanity. 10/10
24. Apprentice [Boo Junfeng, 2016, Singapore] 
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Draws the line between showing compassion & battling own conscience. Gripping, I feel hands around my throat. 10/10
23. Embrace of the Serpent [Ciro Guerra, 2015, Germany, Spain] 
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I got lost somewhere its visual hypnotism, but it’s great overall. 10/10
22.  Son of Saul [László Nemes, 2015, Hungary] 
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This film has a breathtaking power no one can doubt. 10/10
21. EDSA [Alvin Yapan, 2016, Philippines]
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Is a number of things. It’s socially relevant, a moral challenge, a visual feast. Most simply one of the bests. 10/10
20.  Mustang [Denzi Gamze Ergüven, 2015, Turkey, France] 
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Brutal in its authenticity. Something I want to hate but can’t. I’m happy to have seen this film. I really am. 10/10
19. Hele sa Hiwagang Hapis [Lav Diaz, 2016, Philippines] 
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Reality told through a mix of history & fantasy. A delicate & engaging quest for Filipino freedom. 10/10
18. Pamilya Ordinaryo [Eduardo Roy, 2016, Philippines] 
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Very raw, real and persuasive. Powerful in its entirety. 10/10
17. Sing Street [John Carney, 2016, United Kingdom] 
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No, there’s not a word in the world that could describe how much I love this film. Everything about it. 10/10
16. Captain America: Civil War [Joe Russo, Anthony Russo, 2016, United States] 
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it’s hard to point out which part of the film I didn’t like, that’s if I hated anything. 10/10
15. Frantz [François Ozon, 2016, France] 
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a melancholic take on people’s journeys to finding a reason to live. Beautiful use of color and B&W. 10/10
14. Sunday Beauty Queen [Baby Ruth Villarama, 2016, Philippines]
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Highly-engaging, charming, touching, and senseful. Sweetest of the festival. 10/10
13. Respire [Mélanie Laurent, 2015, France] 
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With its overall well-observed direction, it’s compelling both visually and story-wise. 10/10
12. Embers [Claire Carré, 2015, United States] 
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A stylistic post-apocalyptic narrative of survival of people who have lost their meanings. 10/10
11. Train to Busan [Yeon Sang-ho, 2016, South Korea] 
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When everyone’s becoming a monster, humanity is the way to survive. Fast-paced. Thrilling. Heartfelt. 10/10
10.  Ang Manananggal sa Unit 23B [Prime Cruz, 2016, Philippines]
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If I can only use “beautiful” once a year to describe a film, I’ll use it on this one. 10/10
9. Seklusyon [Erik Matti, 2016, Philippines] 
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a thought-provoking jewel on the corruption of divinity and an examination of people’s inner evils. 10/10
8. Anino sa Likod ng Buwan [Jun Lana, 2015, Philippines] 
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Gripping, tender, sensual. Majestic in one long take. Saying I’m blown away is an understatement. 10/10
7. Toni Erdmann [Maren Ade, 2016, Germany]
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I don’t know if I should laugh or cry or both at the same time. No doubt a knockout. 10/10
6. Swiss Army Man [Daniel Scheinert, Dan Kwan, 2016, United States] 
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Clever in all its weirdness. What an unforgettable experience. 10/10
5. Ang Babaeng Humayo [Lav Diaz, 2016, Philippines] 
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vividly questions justice, higher power, morality, and existence. It’s beyond brilliant, it aches. 10/10
4. The Salesman [Asghar Farhadi, 2016, Iran] 
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Farhadi always has his way of shaking your soul, giving his audience a silent yet thrilling ride. 10/10
3.  Women of the Weeping River [Sheron Dayoc, 2016, Philippines]
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a film about a generational blood feud, and also a metaphor for the uneding armed conflicts in Mindanao where the vulnerable is the most at risk, and the strong isn’t really unbreakable. It has one of the most beautiful endings I’ve seen this year where it subtly concludes that in war, no one really ever wins. 10/10
2. The Lobster [Yorgos Lanthimos, 2016, Ireland, Greece, UK, France]
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a peculiar take on the world’s social construction of reality. Far-out yet accurate, it’s captivating. 10/10
1. The Handmaiden [Park Chan-wook, 2016, South Korea] 
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Lavish, sensual, beyond clever. Having watched and read Fingersmith won’t make this gem a tad predictable. Park Chan-wook’s adaptation even exceeded my expectations. 10/10
Watch The Handmaiden’s trailer below:
youtube
Related post:
Full list of the films I watched in 2016
My top 50 movies for 2015
Top 35 for Filipino films:
Women of the Weeping River
Ang Babaeng Humayo
Anino sa Likod ng Buwan
Seklusyon
Ang Manananggal sa Unit 23B
Sunday Beauty Queen
Pamilya Ordinaryo
Hele sa Hiwagang Hapis
EDSA
Oro
Saving Sally
Sakaling Hindi Makarating
Mercury is Mine
Tuos
Purgatoryo
Dukot
Ned’s Project
The Third Party
Ignacio De Loyola
Curiosity, Adventure, Love
Always Be My Maybe
Ma’ Rosa
Baboy Halas
Mrs
Buhay Habambuhay
Vince and Kath and James
TPO
Kusina
Hiblang Abo
123
Die Beautiful
Patay na si Hesus
How To Be Yours
The Achy Breaky Hearts
Ang Babae sa Septic Tank 2
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