#I’m very much at the ‘wait and see’ part

[samheughanswife]

What is a kiss? Usually a way to express love, affection or as part of a greeting.

So let’s put this into perspective.

. Cast photographed together before boarding the bus that drove them to Murrayfield. So it’s a given that greetings were exchanged. Kisses and hugs, at the very beginning of the class excursion to TS concert with both the Headmistress and her deputy in attendance.

. Arrival and settling into the VIP tent and waiting for the pre show performance. Drinks, talking and familiarising themselves with the setup. Access, security, toilets.

. Sam and Caitriona would have been cognisant that the performance was filmed. All the other performances have been with multiple cameras and drones. TS set the standards very high with the use of technology so everyone can enjoy and benefit from her concerts.

. The chances of being filmed were high. They were very close to the stage and in the line of sight of the multiple cameras. These are two people very well versed in outdoor and location filming. Not novices. They would have seen the crew pre show.

. Paramore start their set with introductions and then their performance.

. Not sure how long they were in attendance before Paramore came on stage and not my job to find out. But suffice to say co-star catchup interactions were done and dusted.

What the video shows is a woman, Caitriona, so intuitively and intimately comfortable with Sam that she draws him in, arm around his neck and kisses him. Twice. It’s there on film. And it’s this that has the tumblrinas knickers so twisted.

We see a Caitriona who clearly not only “likes” her costar ( you know that she is said to hate him) but initiates UNNECESSARY closeness and deep affection, LOVE, for Sam whichever way you look at it. It was hours into being together on the excursion, not minutes.

These aren’t stills or screenshots. It’s on film. In technicolour. Swifty technicolour 🩷💚🩵🩶💙❤️💛🤎💜.

The existence of this video was dropped into the inbox of multiple accounts. It was there to watch and disseminate and ultimately share.

The only one to do so was @sgiandubh. I thank you so much and I’m saddened but not surprised that you have had to deal with the typical bullshit that comes from sharing any content that rattles the entrenched group think and mindset of so many.

“You think I’d leave your side, baby

You know me better than that

You think I’d leave when you’re down on your knees

I wouldn’t do that” By your Side, Sade 🤎

Caitriona showed not only her support for Sam after the HH pap walk but love as well. Platonic if you aren’t a believer and of course for me a woman who was unafraid and with zero fucks to give because she was aware that there was a chance it would be seen and still she moved in with the kisses and hugs.

Smooth operator ( sorry couldn’t help myself 😘)

N.B. Real life happens, I’m not here hitting refresh 24/7.

I’ve enjoyed reading the experts trying to make it make sense. The discomfort is real.

Caitriona forcing herself to get through a few hours of non work ( but it kinda was) with a co star she has barely tolerated these past few years and what do we see, deep down love and affection.

As as it’s often screeched ‘photos or it didn’t happen’ well we have video footage!!

[suskz]

Hi there! Could write a Chan x reader. Reader went to a skz fansigning & got dared to give Chan a note and along with the note there was an attached hotel key card, asking him to meet her at a certain time and at first he was so hesitant about it but then when the reader waits for over an hour after the time stated on the note, she opens the hotel door ready to leave and there is chan 👀

pairing: Idol!Chan x Fan!Fem!Reader

t/w: fluff ; Chan is a tease and a flirt ; reader is delulu (even tho she says she isn’t).

w/c: around 1.3k

a/n: I’m not really sure about this. I practically wrote what you had already written. I wanted to extend the final part but it just didn’t come out right. Anyway, yours is a really great idea, I love it! I hope you still like this!

It's a stupid idea. It's ridiculous. And yet you're doing it anyway.

You know it's impossible for it to actually happen, but if you're doing it, it's because deep down —very deep down— inside you, there's a little hope.

“You got this, girl!” you hear from the other end of the phone. This only makes you more nervous and embarrassed about what you're doing. You're so damn delusional.

Your hand moves the pen faster across the paper as you mutter a 'shut up' to your friend, who sighs yet again at your harsh choice of words.

The click of the pen marks the end of your note.

You end the call, get up from the toilet, and leave the bathroom as if nothing happened —or will happen. You get back in line behind other people waiting to see their idols, preparing yourself for the humiliation.

But when you find yourself in front of him, you realise there's no way to prepare for the humiliation from something like this.

“Hello!” he greets you with a smile, wearing the wolf ear headband that one of the fans before you gave him.

“Hi.” Your voice is anxious, and he can tell.

You hand him the album you have in your hands, and he immediately opens it and starts signing it.

Your heart beats fast because you are in front of him, Bang Chan. Your idol, the man who has captured your heart more than anyone else. And the man who will soon want to run as far away from you as possible after opening your letter.

A card, a place, and a street. 'Let’s meet at 5pm tomorrow?' written with an uncertainty you never imagined you could experience.

You already prepare to laugh to brush away the embarrassment when he opens the letter. You start to consider whether to give it to him or not. You could spare yourself an embarrassing moment and continue living your life normally. Maybe that's better; fuck the dare, it's just a silly game.

“What’s your name?” Your thoughts are interrupted by his sweet voice as he looks up from the album, perhaps a little amused.

You feel your cheeks heat up as you realise you've been silently staring at him for too long. A few seconds, but it's already too much.

“Uh, Y/n.” You try to say with as much confidence as possible, but it doesn’t come out as you would have liked.

“How are you, Y/n?” He asks kindly.

“I’m good, thanks. A bit nervous, actually.” You admit, and he looks at you still smiling.

“Oh, you don’t need to be.” He reassures you.

"It’s just, I’m sitting in front of a God, you left me speechless." You try to sound as normal as possible. You've rehearsed what to say to him in advance, and you don't want your anxiety to prevent you from talking to him.

He opens his mouth to speak but immediately shuts it, taken by surprise. Now it’s him who’s speechless.

“That’s too sweet, thank you.” His smile widens, his eyes forming crescents and his dimples more visible than before, if possible.

"That's the truth though, you're much more handsome in person than I thought." you compliment him again.

You feel more relaxed now and manage to speak with him normally for the rest of the time.

It's when you have to move on to the next member and he greets you that you give him the letter.

"This is for you, I would appreciate it if you read it later."

And indeed, he remembers to read it at the end of the fan sign.

‘From Y/n’ he reads in his mind, opening it.

And he thinks you're crazy. Maybe a maniac. Delusional enough to do something like this thinking he would show up.

And he's ready to give it to the staff to throw it in the trash, but when someone behind him calls him, he's too taken aback to think properly and puts your letter in his pocket.

It's a stupid move, but he promises himself to throw it away later, in the dressing room.

Or a few hours later, at home. Or in his room, after reading it one last time. Or after reading it twice. Or three times.

For the first time, he takes out the key card and examines it in his hands. It's real, it's not a joke.

‘That’s crazy’, he realises. He can't show up, it would be stupid, it would be dangerous. It's the best thing to do, ignore it all.

And yet you are still waiting for him, dressed in the black leather skirt your friends chose for you. You glance at the clock and realise you've been sitting on the hotel room sofa for almost an hour.

You knew it was a stupid idea and that he would never show up. Actually, it would have been insane of Chan to do so. He probably thought you were a serial killer or something, or that you wanted to kidnap him.

You sigh. You get up from the sofa, grab your bag from where it’s placed on a chair, and head to the door.

When you open it, though, you quickly step back and almost throw your bag at the person standing in front of you. 

Your eyes widen when you realise who it is. 

"Uh… hello." He smiles awkwardly, scratching the nape of his neck.

He came.

A thought immediately flashes through your mind.

Now what?

When you sit on the sofa, after him, you are the first to speak, “I didn’t… think you would actually come.” You find the courage to look him in the eyes.

“I didn’t think I would come either, it was a last-minute decision,” he admits. “I don’t know what was going through my mind when I decided to come.” He chuckles slightly, and you smile.

“Is it because I seemed cute to you at the fan sign?” You tease him. Embarrassing. You realize too late that you shouldn’t have said it.

You’re lucky, though, because he plays along, “I couldn’t find the words to tell you after being called a God.” He teases back, a smirk forming on his lips.

You stay silent for a while, embarrassment spreading across your cheeks and making him chuckle.

“Can you blame me? You have me obsessed over your fancams, the way you move is amazing.”

“Oh, yeah?” He grins, “I’m honored to know that a pretty girl like you watches my fancams.” He says playfully.

Pretty?

“Oh shut up.” You say jokingly, rolling your eyes to hide the blush coloring your cheeks.

“I will, if it’s you who says so.” He says, looking into your eyes in a way that now seems more intense.

You swallow hard, not expecting such a response, trying to hold his gaze.

“If you don’t stop talking like that, I’ll be completely yours, Mr. Bang.” You find the confidence in his eyes to say these words.

He chuckles, “I’d like to see that.”

“You’re being too much of a tease.” You say in a pouty tone, looking away like a child who didn’t get their candy.

“Don’t you like me for that very reason?” He asks rhetorically, raising an eyebrow.

You turn your head back toward him and smile, “Yes, I like you for that too.”

And he knew that at the end of this evening, he would have to leave and pretend nothing happened.

And he knew it was wrong and he would regret it when he had to face the consequences, but he did it anyway.

“Should we exchange numbers?”

[causenessus]

cold kisses

part 0.11. THINKING ABOUT ANOTHER MAN

PLAYING FROM KODZUKEN'S STREAM . . . picture in my mind by pinkpantheress & sam gellaitry

she recognizes him from a distance as she approaches the ice rink.

a sense of alarm kicks in before she tries to calm it down. to atsumu's credit, he’s been a lot better of a person since he found out she and kenma were dating and after the day he came to watch them. even though kenma hadn’t come to watch them since that day, he’s never flirted or blatantly done anything to make her uncomfortable.

still, she’s not sure he’s someone she’d like to be around outside of the time they’re required to stay together. she doesn't hate him as much as she used to, but she's not letting down her guard around him.

as she approaches the doors of the rink, she’s unsure of what to do; go inside immediately or stop and talk to him? he makes the decision for her when he pushes off the wall he’d been leaning on to greet her.

“hey, y/n,” he begins, looking down at her, “now that we’ve got an hour to kill what did ya plan on doing?”

“oh, i was just gonna go inside in practice, probably. i’m not sure yet,” she shrugs, turning her head to look at the doors instead of him.

“oh come on, do ya really want to do that? we have a whole four hours of that to look forward to later,” he sighs, stuffing his hands in his pockets and drawing her attention back to him. “did ya already eat?” he asks.

“oh,” she accidentally says aloud as the thoughts connect. she’d felt a little nauseous today but she’d assumed it was just because her schedule had been thrown off the rails. it was probably instead due to the fact that she hadn’t had time to eat since she came straight here. “no, i haven’t,” she answered, looking up at him.

“great,” he gave her a smile, using a hand to turn around and prompt her to start walking. she was so used to feeling him guide her on the ice it almost felt natural. “let’s go get something to eat, it's my treat.”

he sees her tweets and he’s not sure what he feels. whatever it is, it’s not good. it’s immediate repulsion, seeing anything related to miya atsumu followed by two other feelings. a sharp prick of nausea and anxiety like he’s jealous.

as soon as he labels it he tries to ignore the feeling. what was he thinking? he had no right to be upset about who she was around. they weren’t dating, he had to remind himself. he was just her friend. and roommate. and someone who she'd agreed to at least pretend to date. someone she may have started to like back, he'd thought.

the realization stings and kenma stares past his phone. his vision isn’t focused anywhere, everything just seems like a blur and it seems like his very body is shutting down at the thought that maybe she doesn’t like him.

it shouldn’t be anything new, or have this big of an effect on him. he’s dealt with his feelings for years and they’ve never affected him so badly. but what was their conversation earlier today? what was yesterday? was she just pretending? was he the one who had fallen even farther? had he stupidly started to interpret her feelings as something real?

he shuts off his phone and places it down.

he knows he shouldn't feel hurt because he knows her–at least he thinks he does. no matter if she was faking or not, it wouldn’t be her intention to mess with his feeling or go out with atsumu almost identically to how she had taken him out yesterday, bakery and all.

hell, she may not have even chosen the place. he couldn’t blame or assume anything about what she was doing, that would be unfair to her. 

the only way he would know what she was thinking–how she really felt about him was to talk to her. but he couldn’t do that for a number of reasons; because of his own anxieties and because it wasn’t a good time. he didn’t want to ruin anything for her or take her attention away from the olympics. he’d have to wait until after her performance or hope that maybe she’d say something to him first.

none of this helped calm down his thoughts because there was one thing he could ask that wasn’t an assumption or projection, why would she go anywhere with miya atsumu in the first place?

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

this got split into two chapters AGAIN because I YAP TOO MUCH

but that's okay because i have way too many songs that go with this chapter

PICTURE IN MY MIND FITS PRETTY PERFECTLY THOUGH (it'll make even more sense next chapter <3)

not sure if i already said this but kenma is also so pinkpantheress coded

i also apologize bc like none of the chats could be screenshotted perfectly like there's a lot of repeated text in some of the screenshots yk 😔

yn obviously named the gc with ukai and atsumu

ukai at first was like "wtf" and then decided he did not care

atsumu just rolls with whatever she says what a suck up

ukai also tries his best to be professional but it always slowly disintegrates the more he talks to yn

he was definitely texting and driving in traffic because his motto is "u can do anything as long as u don't get caught ❤"

yn was not too keen on going anywhere with atsumu until he said he was paying

she decided she could deal with it and just thought about kenma the entire time they were out together

but she also felt awkward when he tagged her in a tweet so she tagged him back

at this point, bc he's acting more agreeable, fake or not, y/n's decided he's a pretty okay guy. like he was always talented he just sucked as a person but now he's okay

(atsumu took her to a bakery to get back at kenma bc he knew kenma was vague tweeting about him when he told everyone to back off)

i didn't say that you heard that from a bird or something

taglist: @rinheartshyunlix @kettlepop @eggyrocks @cr4yolaas @httpakkeiji @keioover @does-directions @calx-bdo @staygoldsquatchling02 @cherrypieyourface @iluv-ace @kitty-m30w @h3xi2g0n3 @mylahrins @thechaosoflonging @momoriii-i @localgaytrainwreck @a-pastel-edgelord @bugglesboop @polish-cereal @osakis-gf @phoenix-eclipses @faesix @ryeyeyer @skylarkalchemist @kunimix @sereniteav @kodzubaby @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @r0seandth0rns @gsyche @kitnootkat @seillarium @tamimemo @myromanempiree @coldcigarette @eclipticnikki @squiishymeow @vivian-555 @cryptictheseus @eclecticeggknightpsychic @kodzukein @kawaii-angelanne @luvly-writer @kodzuken-hoe @kodzuken88 @bookworm-center @theweirdfloatything @glitch-karma @spicana

[joonsmagicshop]

Stress Relief Finale- KNJ

Summary: A couple months ago Taehyung asked a favor. For you to have sex with his bandmates to relieve some tension and stress. How can you say no to that.

Paring: Namjoon/Reader (all members are mentioned)

Rating: M/18+

Word Count: 8k (oops)

Tags: angst, smut, wet dreams, clumsy joon, angry joon, swearing, callbacks to previous chapters, lore, slight twist, maknae scheming, backstory, heavy makeouts, spanking, eating pussy, dick sucking, dirty talk, pet names penetrative sex (use protection) cute ending, fluffy ending

Authors Note: I have been teasing that I saved Namjoon for last for...reasons. This fic is why hehehe

*Seriously thank you all so much for reading this series every like/reblog/comment means the world! I appreciate every single one of you

In case you missed it

Intro Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part7

Namjoon woke up with a start. His heart was racing anxiously in his chest and there was a pounding in his head. Or was that someone at the door? And why was he so warm, and why did everything feel so wet and…sticky?

Namjoon closed his eyes tighter, trying to fight against the urge he had to wake up fully, he was in the middle of a dream, a perfect, very hot, dream. And currently in said dream his cock was buried in a stranger he had seen at a club once upon a time. She was teasing him all night, hiking up her skirt and winking at him.

As hard as Namjoon tried to stay put, to let his mind slip back into a state of dreaming the pounding noise was getting louder and soon enough he cracked open his eyes to be met with his keyboard.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes, the dream lingering as he stretched his arms over his head and grumbled. It was not like him to fall asleep at his desk, usually, he would take the couch or something more comfortable. He honestly didn’t even remember falling asleep.

And what the heck was with all that noise?

Namjoon turned in his chair to face the door as his brain tried to wake up fully and he realized someone was knocking on the door.

Quite forcefully.

Right as Namjoon was about to stand up he felt it. The heat prickling on his skin, the way his arms broke out into goosebumps, and the shiver he felt when he shifted in his chair and his now soft wet cock rubbed against his skin.

He looked down and saw a wet spot on the front of his pants and groaned, running a hand through his messed-up hair.

A wet dream

Again

Fuck this was the last thing he needed right now.

“Namjoon!” Jungkook called from behind the door and Namjoon flew into panic mode. He ripped off his pants and boxers and cleaned himself up the best he could. He then threw them under his desk. He always kept extra clothes in his studio in case he had decided to stay the night and he quickly threw on a pair of old sweatpants and called out to Jungkook to wait a minute.

His heart was racing and the dream was so fresh in his mind he swore he was in two places at once, in the dream where the girl was sinking down on his cock and standing here in his studio cumming in his pants like a teenage boy.

Once he felt he looked presentable he opened the door to see Jungkook standing there dressed in his usual all-black looking nervous.

“Yoongi sent me to check on you are you okay?” He asked as Namjoon fought to hide his flustered appearance and the fact he still felt on edge after that dream.

“Yes, I’m fine. Why?” Namjoon asked placing a hand over his chest to try and calm his frantically beating heart.

“Uh well, we have that meeting. You never showed, so I said I’d come get you. Figured you got lost in your music again.” Jungkook explains with a worried look.

Namjoon feels his heart drop as he checks his watch.

Yup, he was ten minutes late.

Well fuck.

“Sorry Kookie I was working on music then fell asleep. Let’s go.” He replies closing the door to his studio and following Jungkook down the hall.

The day didn’t get better.

In fact, the whole week seemed to keep getting worse for Namjoon.

It was now or never as the tour was only a week away and while all the other members seemed to be thriving Namjoon was struggling.

He was their leader and they had to look to him for support so he tried to stay strong for them and mask how he was really feeling.

This masking was causing more harm than good and he could tell the members were getting frustrated with him.

He was usually clumsy, but that seemed to double in the last week. He could hardly hold a bottle of water without dropping the whole thing. He also found he was very short-tempered and often would lose patience with the younger ones when they goof off.

The worst was when anyone would mention Y/N. Just the name coming up would have Namjoon sending death glares and sometimes even the silent treatment.

The boys were walking on eggshells and Namjoon was a second away from losing his sanity.

And the wet dreams?

Well, those seemed to happen more frequently for Namjoon, and while he knew what the fix was he didn’t have time to take care of it. There was hardly any time in the day to do anything and the thought of jerking off was the furthest thing from his mind as he pushed through every day and let his body take care of it at night.

It was always the same dream and he just started to ignore it.

It would go away once they were on tour. Everything would be fixed once they were on tour

Right?

Five days before the tour, everything came crashing down.

Dance practice was brutal and the meetings and final planning for the tour were even worse.

Once the meetings of the day were over the plan sprung into action.

Yoongi and Jin grabbed Namjoon by the arms and held them back, then dragged him into an empty dance studio despite his yells to let him go.

The others were waiting with grim looks on their faces.

“What the hell is this? Get off me! Guys this isn’t funny!” Namjoon protested as his voice echoed throughout the empty room.

Namjoon spotted Jimin running to the door to lock it as Jin and Yoongi forced Namjoon to the floor and they all sat around him.

“Ha. Ha, You guys are funny now let me go!” Namjoon bellows as the other boys look at Yoongi nervously.

“No Namjoon absolutely not. Not until you tell us what the fuck is going on.” He says shooting Namjoon an intense gaze.

“We know you are stressed. We get the stress of being a leader and we wanted to give you space to figure it out but damn is it hard to work with you right now. So we are having a little chat. What is going on and how can we help.” Hobi explains patting Namjoon’s thigh and shooting him a smile.

Which has Namjoon forcefully scooting away and crossing his arms over his chest in a pout.

“Nothing. I am fine.” Namjoon spits out as he eyes all the members.

Jin with a cross-expression

Yoongi cocking an eyebrow as if he doesn’t believe him

Hobi who looks hurt

Jimin who is picking at his fingernails and looking nervous

Taehyung who looks in anguish over the whole thing

And Jungkook, with his big brown eyes he stares at Namjoon with so much worry and fear it makes Namjoon feel guilty.

“You aren’t a good liar Namjoon. You are stressed out and stressing us out. You are shaky and nervous and honestly being kind of an asshole right now. Yelling at Tae during our last three dance practices because he was trying to make us all smile. Showing up late for meetings. Spilling and dropping….everything. We want to help. But we can’t help if you don’t tell us what the hell is going on.” Jin speaks up.

“It’s just…stress.” Namjoon almost whispers hanging his head.

“Okay we get that we are all stressed but you are bubbling over like a volcano. What is going on? Honestly?” Hobi says as they all stare at him.

It’s too much

It’s all too much

Too many eyes on him, too many accusing stares.

Namjoon feels his body heat up and his usual calm and level-headed demeanor snaps.

“Do you really think I need this right now? Do you think wasting my time with an intervention is going to help?” He snaps staring them all down and clenching his jaw.

“Yes, I got mad at Tae because he was wasting time. Do you know how much goes into a tour? Do you know how much I have to do as your leader to get ready for this tour? Goofing off makes my job, and everyone else’s job harder Taehyung. And sitting here and pointing out all my flaws is not going to make me feel better.” Namjoon bellows standing up in frustration.

His heart is racing and his clothing feels too hot, too tight. It’s all too much.

“Joon it’s okay.” Whispers Yoongi standing to join him.

But if Namjoon has something it’s pride and he’s not going to let his band members see how close he was to an absolute breakdown.

“Six against one right? Super fair. Love having you all gang up on me when I do so much for you. I’m going to my studio and changing the password on the door. Don’t follow me. I’m done.” Namjoon announces as he makes his way towards the door.

Yoongi runs to stop him, grabs his arm, and attempts to get him to sit back down, but the look Namjoon gives him is so full of spite that Yoongi shrinks back and lets Namjoon go.

The air is thick with tension and they all stare at each other in shock. As long as they have known Namjoon he has never, ever been like this.

“Should we…. get an exorcist? He is possessed. That’s not our Joon, an evil mad demon possessed him.” Hobi mused which made some of them smile.

“Done as in done with BTS?” Jungkook asks eyes brimming with tears as Jin scoots over to comfort the youngest.

“Nah I think just done with us….for a bit. I’ll talk to him later one one-on-one.” Yoongi mutters scratching his neck

Three days before the tour you opened your door to a surprise. Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung were all standing there looking somber.

“Hey! Come on in!” You say gesturing for all of them to enter.

Originally Taehyung texted you and asked if he could come over which you happily accepted so seeing all three of them was quite a shock.

“Thanks Y/N,” Jimin says as he takes his usual spot on the couch sandwiched between Taehyung and Jungkook.

You sat down on the loveseat next to them and wondered what the hell was going on.

“So uh…” You start but Taehyung is quick to interrupt you.

“I want to talk to you about something.” He starts, long fingers ruffling his fluffy brown hair in nervousness.

You swallow thickly.

“Okay, the floor is all yours.” You say crossing your legs.

“Well I know I’ve liked this arrangement we have and I know you do too. It works. And I think it’s good for both of us, And god you are the perfect fuck buddy like I could not have asked for better, honestly.” He starts and you bite back a smile.

“I think we’ve already had this conversation Tae. Remember? And it ended with me…ahem…assisting your friends.” You tease as Taehyung turns the most gorgeous shade of red and Jungkook and Jimin snicker.

“Really? That’s how you asked her. A whole speech?” Jimin teases as Taehyung shoots him a look.

“I didn’t want to offend her.” He shoots back as Jungkook is hiding his giggles behind his hands.

“Ohmygod you sap. You made it sound all romantic as if it wasn’t just going to be good sexy fun.” Jimin cackles which has Taehyung pinching his arm.

“Okay okay. Um, what did you want to ask Tae?” You say trying to steer the conversation back on track.

“You have been wonderful and incredible. We all appreciate you and how you have….helped. I just kind of had one more favor to ask.” He mutters sheepishly and you cock an eyebrow.

“I mean…we didn’t discuss more than one at a time but I guess I’d be down.” You reply easily as Jimin loses it and falls off the couch in laughter.

Taehyung is glaring at Jimin and Jungook is staring at you with a face of innocence and his eyes blown wide as if a couple of days ago he didn’t make you cum four times.

“Oh my god that is too funny! I like the way she thinks! Why didn’t we think of that!” Jimin cackles which has you shrinking in embarassment and Taehyung grabs his friend by the arm to help him off the floor.

“Kinky,” Jungkook mutters which again has Jimin dissolving into giggles.

“This is why you don’t do long drawn out speeches Tae Ohmygod.” Jimin snorts as he finally rights himself on the couch and you cover your face with your hands completely embarrassed.

“Pretend I didn’t say that. Please pretend that never happened.” You plead as you hide your face and close your eyes.

“Listen, while Taehyung likes his long speeches I’ll rip the bandaid off. We want you to do us a favor and fuck Namjoon” Jimin says bluntly which has your eyes bulging and your mouth dropping open in shock.

“Um. What?” You stammer trying to hide the blush that was creeping up your neck.

“I mean with consent of course! But we need him to chill out and we think you might be our only hope.” Taehyung explains shooting you pleading eyes.

“How? What happened?” You ask nervously as Jungkook fills you in.

“Wow.” You say after the story is done.

“Wow is right. Yoongi went to talk to him after and said it was a disaster. Namjoon changed his lock and is refusing to come out except for mandatory meetings. We don’t have any more dance practices so he is locking himself away. Won’t talk to any of us and won’t answer our calls. I sat outside his door for a whole two hours yesterday peridotically knocking but he never came out.” Jungkook explains looking severely hurt by the whole thing.

You knew how Jungkook talked about Namjoon and how he looked up to him so you knew it must be torture for the poor boy.

“I appreciate you thinking I have this much power but I think I’m the last person he wants to see right now.” You explain uncrossing and recrossing your legs in nervousness.

“Listen we have it all planned out. If he’s locking himself in his studio he’s not eating. We will have you deliver food and hopefully talk to him. And if you guys fuck even better! That boy has been moaning in his sleep for days now.” Jimin explains as Taehyung once again smacks his arm and Jungkook covers his face in embarassment.

“He hasn’t reached out to me though. I have to respect that. I don’t think he wants anything to do with me” You argue feeling your cheeks ablaze at the very prospect of it.

“We aren’t saying you have to have sex with him. Unless you want to,” Jiimin teases raising his eyebrows and winking at you.

“He doesn’t want to see me though. Believe me.” You say anxiously.

“All we are saying is go to the door and deliver him food. Explain who you are. Maybe he would want to talk to you. We have gone through almost everyone we can think of. He is shutting everyone out including his friends outside of BTS. Please Y/N.” Tae says with his signature pout.

“We can’t go on tour like this. The fans mean everything to us and they will notice if something is wrong. Please help us out. And if he slams the door in your face you can come to Jungkook’s studio which is right across the hall and we will bring you home. No harm.” Tae says as Jungkook nods enthusiastically.

“Okay fine.” You sigh out as Jimin and Junkook cheer and Taehyung gets out of his seat to give you a heated kiss.

“Now let’s raid your closet, Jungkook order the food!” Jimin shouts as he grabs your hand and drags you to your room.

“Wait now?” You exclaim in shock as you hear Taehyung and Jungkook scheming in the living room.

“Yes, beautiful now,” Jimin responds in glee as he throws open your closet.

The ride over to the HYBE building was torture and you couldn’t sit still the entire time. It didn’t help that Jimin thought the perfect outfit would be a mini skirt and a V-neck shirt and you kept anxiously pulling the skirt down to cover more of your exposed legs

You had the food resting on your lap keeping your knees warm and your throat was dry in anxiety.

Once you got to the building and into the elevator your stomach was in knots. Jimin kept cracking jokes to ease your nerves and Junkook and Tae kept assuring you everything would be fine.

“Why did I agree to this? This was a bad idea.” You whine as the elevator keeps going up and up as you stand on shaky feet.

Because Park Jimin thought the best way to have you deliver food would be in this ridiculous outfit…and four-inch heels.

“Don’t be nervous. If he slams the door in your face you’ll come right across the hall to me. Maybe make sure he at least takes the food though.” Jungkook says cracking a smile as you wobble when the elevator finally stops.

“Wait I can’t. I seriously can’t.” You whimper as the doors open and the boys usher you out to the hallway.

The elevator doors close. And the elevator goes back down to ground level.

You are stuck here now.

“Believe me Namjoon is big and scary to us but he won’t be to you. He’s a little boy trapped inside a big man’s body. He’s harmless, It’s fine.” Jimin soothes as he marches down the hall full of confidence.

“Y/N you got this. You can do this. We care about you and Namjoon and you are doing us a huge favor by helping us out with this.” Taehyung says softly as he grabs your face in his hands and kisses you softly, easing some of your nerves.

“And if it works out maybe we will reward you with that foursome.” He mutters against your lips for only you to hear as you roll your eyes at him and his own eyes sparkle with mischief.

“What if he doesn’t answer the door?” You ask as you stay frozen in the hall still holding the food.

“He will. He thinks we have all gone home for the night because Yoongi sent a message in our group chat saying he was having everyone over for drinks. We all said yes and he Jin, and Hobi are there right now. They said to keep us up to date.” Jungkook replies.

“Yoongi is in on this too?!” You hiss as Taehyung laughs.

“Well, he knew we were up to something and forced it out of us. He was at his wit’s end and figured why the hell not go with our brilliant plan.” Taehyung explains as he grabs your arm and helps you walk over to Namjoon’s door.

Namjoon’s door.

It felt like being the hero in a video game and walking to the final boss.

“Don’t be nervous it’s all good. You got this. We owe you our life.” Tae whispers as Jungkook and Jimin disappear into Jungkooks studio with a wave which leaves you and Tae standing there.

“Why are you making it sound like you're sending me to my death.” You hiss as Taehyung laughs and softly rasps on Namjoon's door.

“Have fun sweetheart.” He teases with a sloppy kiss as he sneaks across the hall and slips into Jungkook’s studio

You wait.

And wait.

And no one answers.

You want to turn away. To go to Jungkook’s studio to flee but you decided to try one more time.

Just as you balance the food and raise your fist to knock the door opens.

You are met with Kim Namjoon who’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

He is wearing a blue cap to hide his hair and his broad frame is covered in a blue shirt. He looked like he had not slept in days but was still beautiful.

“Um Hi.” You choke out staring at him.

“You?” He says softly with his eyes blown open in surprise.

“I brought food.” You stammer holding out the bag for him. You are shaking so bad you are grateful when he takes it off your hands.

“Why are you here.” He snaps as you cower under his gaze.

Even in heels, he is so much taller than you and you seem to shrink under his gaze.

“It was not my idea I just got roped into it.” You say holding up your hands in surrender as Namjoon shakes his head.

“Let me guess. Jimin, Jungkook and Tae?” He asks staring you down as you nod thickly.

“Yeah, they dropped me off here and went to visit Yoongi.” You lie effortlessly as Namjoon holds up the take-out bag to inspect it.

“And they got all my favorites those suck-ups. Well, come in I guess. I’m not punishing you for getting roped into their plan and them abandoning you here. After we eat I’ll bring you home.” He says sounding weary as you follow him into his studio.

You take in the light tones of the walls and his décor as he sets up the small coffee table with the food and gets settled on the couch.

You watch as he takes off his cap to push his hair back from his tired face and you watch in fascination as he meticulously sets everything up.

Once he is seated on the couch he raises an eyebrow at you, a silent invitation and you slowly walk over and sit down heart hammering in your chest and your breathing uneasy.

“It’s okay it’s just me.” He says softly as you nod and take a seat next to him as he hands you chopsticks. You pull down your skirt once again and Namjoon snickers next to you.

You both eat in silence as soft music plays in the background.

“So they roped you into this huh?” He muses breaking the silence as you slurp your noodles and nod.

Namjoon shakes his head with a fond look on his face.

“So you know what has been going on then?” He asks timidly.

“I mean they just said you were stuck in the studio and not eating or talking to anyone. They thought I could help.” You whisper feeling small next to him.

“And let me guess. Jimin dressed you in an outfit that looks super uncomfortable for you. Jungkook used his big brown eyes to persuade you and Taehyung was the ringleader of the whole thing.” Namjoon contemplates as you let out a laugh.

“Wow, you're good.” You say as Namjoon grins and his signature dimple appears on his cheek.

“You can take off your heels you know. They don’t look very comfortable.” He says as you sigh in relief and kick off your shoes.

You both lapse back into silence and finish the food.

The music stops and Namjoon heads to his computer to start another playlist and you can’t help but stare at his strong muscular back as he leans over his desk.

When he turns around you pretend to be staring at the artwork on the walls instead and Namjoon chuckles to himself.

He sits back on the couch, this time closer to you and you blush under his piercing gaze.

“So Taehyung was the mastermind behind this huh? Just like he was the mastermind behind you keeping all of us…sane.” Namjoon quips as you run a hand through your hair and nod.

“Does Taehyung know?” He asks softly as he turns to face you, his knee bumping into yours sending electricity down your legs and to your feet.

“Does Taehyung know what?” You questioned knowing full well what he was hinting at but wanting to hear him say it.

“That night you first met him at the club. That night that you went home with him you were flirting with me all night.” He glowered as you felt your stomach swoop and you broke his gaze staring at the walls.

With one hand under your chin, he brought your gaze back to his and you swallowed hard.

“Nu-uh, eyes on me. Does he know you were hiking up your skirt for me and winking at me for most of the night? Does he know that you were grinding on other men, but you were staring at me the whole time? Does he know how much of a tease you are?” He growls as his knee pushes into your bare one harder and you blush under his heated gaze.

“Does Taehyung know the reason I hate this whole arrangement is because you were supposed to go home with me that night?”

“I-uh.” You mutter unable to form words as Namjoon continues to speak.

“If it wasn’t for Seokjin pointing you out to Tae you would have been with me. Not him. Not all the other members. I don’t share.” He growls

Wanton thoughts were running through your mind as you replayed that night. How he stood out from the crowd because he was so tall, so big, so handsome. How you spotted him right away and thought he was the most attractive man you had ever seen. You remembered the thrill that went down your spine when he finally locked eyes with you over his glass of whiskey.

You remember the carnal desire you had for him to keep his eyes on you. How you hiked up your skirt to show more skin, how you winked and flirted with him across the crowded dance floor. How you danced with other men to tease and taunt him.

See what you could have if you just came over here.

How his jaw clenched every time a man put his hands on you. How you shook your body to the music and threw your head back and laughed when a dance partner whispered something in your ear.

The jokes were no longer funny when you saw his shocked expression when his friend and bandmate Kim Taehyung waltzed over to you and asked very politely for a dance.

How you nodded thickly and backed your ass up until it was flushed with his crotch. How Tae whispered in your ear how he was amazed by your dancing and thought you were beautiful.

You blushed under all his praise and by the time you looked up Namjoon had disappeared from the crowd and Taehyung was asking if he could take you home for the night.

But a one-night stand turned into a many-night-stand

And soon enough Taehyung asked you for a favour. Everyone was so stressed. Everyone was so worried about the tour and he just wanted to help out. He just wanted everyone to be happy again.

And while you agreed Kim Namjoon stayed in the back of your mind.

Would he see you again?

Would he reach out?

You awaited texts that never came. You figured he forgot all about you. That he had moved on. A part of your heart still clung to the hope he would reach out. Even though you went home with Taehyung you never forgot about him.

And it seemed like fate didn’t want you to forget about him.

With this master plan Tae had.

About you showing up all innocent and bringing Namjoon food.

You weren’t just nervous about the plan, you were anxious about seeing him again, having those eyes on you once more that made you shiver in the stuffy heat of the club.

“Does Kim Taehyung know I never forgot about you? That I keep having vivid dreams of a pretty girl hiking up her skirt and flirting with me and making me hard as fuck though at the time I didn’t even know her name?” Namjoon mutters bringing your focus back to him as he licks his lips.

“Joon.” You whine out pressing your legs together as he smirks.

“I selfishly told the boys to stop with you because you could ruin everything. In reality, I wanted you to myself.” He admits as he smiles wickedly at you.

You let out a shaky breath and felt your skin slick with sweat as he stared down at you.

“You never answered my question. Does Taehyung know it was me first?” He growls low as you shiver.

“I never said anything… I figured….you forgot.” You muttered dumbly as his hand came out to trace small patterns on your knee. You kept your gaze downward watching as his hand traced small circles and a wicked smile formed on his face.

“Y/N how could I forget? You had me so fucking hard sitting at the bar I was aching to get my hands on you, to feel you pressed up against my cock. But Taehyung got to you first so I left. I didn’t want to be a part of it. I didn’t want to see it.”

You swallow hard.

“Then months after, when I still hadn’t let you go, Taehyung told us that you were available to help us out if we needed it. And you know what I did?” He spits out as you shake your head.

“I told everyone to stay the fuck away from you. It was probably selfish but I said that you could ruin everything. You were a liability we could not afford to have. Then I went home and jerked off to the thought of you, multiple times.” He admitted.

You felt your arousal pool in your skimpy panties and you pushed your knee harder into his as you stared at him mesmerized.

“You were supposed to be mine that night at the club. Not Taehyung’s and not everyone else’s after. Now get on your hands and knees on this couch and I’m going to spank you and I want you to be as loud as you can. Make Tae Jungkook and Jimin hear it.” He says swatting your lap and standing up off the couch.

Your mouth drops open in shock.

“W-what do you mean they aren’t here they went to Yoongi’s.” You stammer as Namjoon chuckles darkly and once again swats your bare thigh to get you to move.

“This studio may be pretty well soundproofed so you're gonna have to be loud. Come on Y/N I'm not stupid, they are waiting in Jungkook’s studio in case I said no huh? They wouldn’t abandon you in a building you most definitely should not be in. Fucking brat always breaking the rules and now I have to punish you at my workplace. So nasty Y/N.” He growls.

You can’t take it any longer so you stand up and unzip your miniskirt letting it pool at your ankles as you step out of it. Namjoon’s eyes follow your body as you position yourself on the couch and bury your face in one of his decorative pillows.

“This okay?” He mutters as his hand runs softly down your back.

You grin.

“Joonie please spank me.” You plead and he laughs darkly above you

He takes a moment to stare at your underwear which consisted of a black thong that was buried in the back of your drawer that Jimin just had to find. It was super uncomfortable and you begged Jimin to let you wear anything else.

“Did Jimin pick this out too?” He teases as his hands come to massage your ass, kneading the skin and making you push back against him, hungry for more friction.

“Y-Yes.” You cry out when one hand dips lower to run over your folds which had soaked the material of the thong.

“Well, that earns you another spank princess.” He decided as without warning he delivered a sharp spank to your backside.

“I think ten spanks should suffice. One for each member you had sex with, that’s six then one because Jimin picked out your underwear, one for teasing me all night at the club, and two more because I feel like it. Ten in total.” He says as he gives you another harsh swat causing you to whine out and bury your face in the pillow.

“Uh uh didn’t I say be as loud as you like?” He demands as he grabs your hair and softly tits your head back.

His hand comes down to give you two quick sharp spanks and you whine out his name and clench your legs together as you feel your arousal making your thighs slick.

“God you are dripping. You must really like this huh?” He mutters as his hand traces your folds again and you whine out and push your hips back to try to get him to touch more of you.

“Patience baby. You know how much patience I had to have letting everyone fuck you before I got my turn. Let me give you six more then we will get to the good stuff.” He says to you as he massages your reddened flesh and you cry out his name.

“Well, six more spanks princess. Tell me how did the fucking order go? Who got you first…well besides Taehyung.” He asks as you sob under him, body alight with arousal.

“J-Jimin was first.” You cry out as Namjoon swats you extra hard.

“T-Then Jungkook.” You cry as Namjoon hums behind you and spanks just your left cheek.

“Then Jin” You cry out as Namjoon spanks your right cheek.

“Yeah, that was the night I went to the art exhibit If only I would have known my little slut was with him.”

“Then-uh-Yoongi!” You muttered as Namjoon spanked harder this time and you cried out and buried your face in the pillow. Your body was on fire and you felt your pussy pathetically fluttering around nothing.

“Almost there, princess.” He coos

“Then-Tae. He wanted to remind me who he belongs to.” You whisper as Namjoon cocks an eyebrow and stalls his spank.

“Is that so?” He demands.

“Yes?” You reply weakly as he spanks you so hard your whole body jolts forward but his other hand is there to catch you from falling off the couch.

“And who do you belong to?” He asks

“You! Joon I belong to you. Oh god please.” You cry out almost delirious from pleasure.

“Last one baby. Come on. One more name for me.” He says pressing a kiss to your tailbone as you cry out Hobi’s name.

“There is it.” He says as he spanks you one more time and you collapse on the couch face down, struggling to catch your breath.

You feel a blanket being thrown over your body and you sigh in relief as you curl up on the couch.

Namjoon then leaves you on the couch and throws open the door to see Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook standing there.

“Namjoon what a surprise!” Jimin says loudly as you bury your face in the pillow and let out a small groan at the pain from all the spanks.

“Go to Yoongi’s and tell him I’m fine. We will have a meeting and I will apologize and open up a bit more about what has been going on. Now get out of here okay? I’m not having you perverts standing at the door trying to listen in on the rest of this.” He says as you turn your head to see the three of them standing there staring between you and Namjoon, not sure where to look.

Namjoon didn’t wait for their answer instead he slammed the door and you giggled when he made his way back to you and sat on the very edge of the couch.

“How do you always know?” You tease as he smiles softly at you and rubs your back in soothing circles.

“I’ve been around them too long.” He admits as you finally sit up and stare at him. His dominant side seemed to disappear and instead, he looked calm and a little bit shy. Your heart began to race in your chest. He was so damn cute.

You slipped off the blanket and settled yourself on his lap. His hands shot out to your hips to hold you steady and he blushed under your gaze. His gorgeous dimples popping out making your heart flutter.

“I was trying to get your attention that night. I was outrageously flirting with you hoping you would come over. I was just as surprised as you were when Taehyung was the one to come over instead.” You admit as he ducks his head and shyly blushes.

“I was just about to come over when Tae did. But after…I mean…what could I do? I’m older and supposed to be the leader of the group. I need to be logical and responsible. Let the others do this kind of stuff I can’t afford to do this stuff you know.” Namjoon says lips in a pout and a saddened look in his eyes.

“Namjoon you have taken on so much as a leader. You have gone above and beyond and it shows. But also. You're a human. You are allowed to have “Good sexy fun” As Jimin puts it.” You say with a laugh as Namjoon grins and shakes his head.

“I think I handled my punishment well and you got to take out some frustration now it’s up to you. I could walk out of here right now and let you get back to being a leader of the biggest band in the world or….we could have some good sexy fun. Your choice.” You said as he stared at you with wide eyes.

“I just got you and you think I want to let you walk out that door. Please.” He exclaimed as you giggled.

“Hey I’m not here to pressure you it’s your choice!” You tease as he runs his fingers through his hair and draws small circles on your hips.

“Watching you take those spanks I’m so fucking hard right now I don’t think I could let you go if I tried.” He admits as you feel excitement course through your entire body.

“But. Can I ask one small thing?” He says softly as he intertwines your fingers with his and brings them up to his lips to give them the softest sweetest kiss.

“The last time I said sure to a favor I ended up here so why not?” You giggle.

“After this tour can I take you on a date? Like a real date? I missed my shot that night at the club but I’m not missing it now.” He says staring into your eyes and making you flush under his gaze.

“Of course Joon.” You whisper as he grins and leans in to kiss you.

His lips are soft against yours and you melt into the kiss instantly. His hands grab for your hips to push you forward so your core is flushed with his aching cock.

You moan against his mouth when you feel how thick he is under you and his hands come to tangle in your hair as he deepens the kiss.

You aren’t sure how long you both stay there kissing, it could be minutes, it could be hours but when you finally come up for air his lips are puffy and red and you giggle as you run your thumb over them watching his eyes widen at your movement.

He slowly peels you off of his lap and stands up to go to his desk drawer to get a condom. Your heart is racing in your chest as he places it on the coffee table then moves the whole thing out of the way to settle on the floor between your legs.

“Gotta prep you to take my cock.” He says as his fingers reach for your thong and pull it down your body. You sigh in relief when it’s removed and Namjoon chuckles.

“As hot as you looked we have to talk to Jimin about picking comfy clothes.” He says.

His hands grab at your knees and pull your legs apart so he can see your glistening core. He bites back an obscure moan when he sees just how wet and needy you are for him.

And it makes his cock twitch when he realizes it’s all for him and him only.

“Joon.” You cry out as his eyes snap up to yours, which are wide in desperation.

He wastes no time delivering small kisses to your thighs and you open your legs wider as he travels upwards.

Your hands naturally tangle in his hair and when he finally licks at your folds you can’t help but cry out his name when he licks a bold stripe up your pussy and flicks his tongue over your clit.

You arch your back into his touch and he continues to lick and suck at your core, swallowing everything you give him as he breathes in the scent of your arousal staining his face.

Once he can tell you are getting close he brings a finger into the mix and slips it easily inside of you. You arch up and cry out his name, opening your legs further as he slowly pumps it in and out of you.

His free hand dips down to palm at his cock which is aching in his pants and desperate for some kind of friction. He wants to be buried inside of you right this second but as wet as you were with his spanks he knows you have to have at least one orgasm before he gets his cock wet with your pussy.

“C-close” you cry out when he inserts another finger and scissors them stretching you out. His lips leave your core to stare at your face which is scrunched up in pleasure and when you finally cum around his digits moaning out his name Namjoon swears he has never seen a more beautiful sight. You are art and he is grateful he got to experience it.

“Holy shit.” You breathe out as you come down from your high. You flutter open your eyes to see Namjoon still seated on the floor, his cheeks are flushed, his eyes are blown wide and his hand is palming at his erection which has you giggling.

“C’mere Joon.” You say as he scrambles to get up on the couch with you. As he stands you lean forward to pull his pants and underwear down and his cock springs up and smacks against his stomach.

At the same time, he pulls his shirt over his head and you do the same taking off your bra in the process.

You both take the time to take in each other’s naked bodies and you’d be lying to say you weren’t slightly intimidated.

Just as he was that night at the club Namjoon was broad and big.

His shoulders were broad and wide, his chest was muscular, his stomach was toned and the trail of hair that led downwards was mouthwatering. His cock was standing proudly against his stomach and the head was flushed a pretty red color.

You wasted no time wrapping your hand around his hardened cock as he throws his head back and whimpers at the contact.

You take your time stroking him from base to tip and when you lean forward to suck the head of his cock he choked out a moan.

You let the taste of him coat your tongue and you hallow out your cheeks as you work your way down his shaft. His hands are tangling in your hair to keep it back as you take him as far as you can go. You feel your throat constricting and you fight the urge to gag as you breathe through your nose and fight every urge in your body to pull back.

Namjoon is a whining moaning mess above you and when you finally do pull back his cock is slick with your spit and his eyes are wide.

He grabs the condom from the coffee table and rolls it on his cock. You move over to give him space on the couch as he sits down.

“How do you want this?” You ask as he jerks himself off slowly.

“How do you want it? Ladies choice.” He says as you decide to slowly climb on his lap and swat his hand away so you can hold the base of his cock.

“Wanna ride you.” You mutter as you grind yourself against his cockhead soaking it in your wetness which has him throwing his head back.

“Fuck.” he grits out when you slowly sink down on him hissing at the stretch.

“Too much? Go slow baby it’s okay.” He whispers as he rubs soothing circles on your bare back as you sink fully down in one swoop.

Namjoon chokes out a cough as he feels your tight walls around his cock and you bury your face in his strong shoulder and whimper at the stretch.

“Fuck… you are so tight around my cock. God Y/N You feel like heaven.” He mutters as he presses soft kisses to your cheeks and your forehead.

“Joonie you are so big holy shit.” You manage to huff out as you slowly rock your hips back and forth trying to ease some of the sting.

“We can take it slow baby. It’s okay we have all night.” He reminds you as he moves your hair so he can place soft kisses on your neck and collarbones.

“Close your eyes, baby. Relax around me, that’s it.” He whispers as you do as he says and his hands come up to cup at your breasts.

He takes his time massaging the skin and flicking his thumbs over your hardened nipples, the sensation sending shockwaves down your spine.

Once your body adjusts you take your time slowly grinding on his lap. His hands leave your breasts to grab at your hips to hold you.

You gulp when he thrusts up to meet you in the middle and begins to fuck into you slowly causing you to whine and beg for more.

“Say the word baby.” He teases you.

“Say how much you want me.” He says still giving you slow and shallow thrusts.

“Please Joon. Fuck me. Please.” You beg

And that’s all it takes.

Namjoon begins to fuck into you with a fierce passion that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your hands grabbing onto his broad back for support.

His thrusts are deep and accurate as he finds your g-spot with ease and continues to hit it with every deep thrust.

“God baby you are soaking my cock.” He grits out when you begin to add in your own thrusts as you ride him with force, the only sound in the studio being a mix of both your heavy breathing and his balls slapping your ass with each thrust.

He is fucking you with a passion you have never felt before. He pours out all those days and weeks and months of thinking about you, of waking up hard because of you, of scolding himself for letting Taehyung have you.

His breathing becomes uneven and you are crying out above him. The coil of pleasure is tightening with every thrust of his cock and as much as you want this to last longer you know you are getting close.

“Joon-Cl-Close.” You cry out as he captures your lips in a heated messy kiss. One of his hands holds your hip while the other reaches between your legs and finds your clit with ease.

You cry into his mouth when he circles your clit and soon enough you are spasming and cumming hard around his cock, his plump lips swallow your moans as your pussy tightens around his cock and he cums hard inside of you still kissing you with such force it steals the breath from your lungs.

You slump down in his lap as you both breathe heavily. He stills his movements and you both take your time coming down from your high.

You press small kisses to his collarbones as he runs a shaky hand through his hair. The air in the studio reeks of sex and it is humid as hell when you finally pull off of him you collapse on the couch staring at him with admiration in your eyes.

“Let me get you cleaned up. Stay here.” He says taking the fallen blanket and throwing it over your body as he disposes of the condom and leaves to go and get a towel.

Ever the gentleman he kneels in front of you to get you cleaned up. He discards the towel and holds you in his arms on the couch.

You stare up at him and smile, he looks so relaxed, so peaceful it makes your heart happy.

“That was amazing.” He says breaking the comfortable silence as he holds you in his arms and you snuggle into his bare chest.

“Worth the wait?” You tease as he shoots you a boyish grin.

“Worth the wait. Though now I have to wait once again to take you out on a proper date. Good thing I’m a patient man.” He teases you as he kisses your temples and you fall into a peaceful sleep in his arms.

Soon enough Namjoon finds his eyes fluttering closed and for the first time in a long time, he sleeps throughout the night.

Taglist

@take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d

@m00njinnie

@minghaosimp

@madebyjungkookie

@iammeandmeisiam

@allie-is-a-panda

@marihoneywk

@stayonmars

@xmspurple7x

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@lerasi

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@caught-in-the-afterglow

@crisle19

[slowd1ving]

ACT IV: DECAY ✦ . 　⁺ VIL SCHOENHEIT NSFW

Vil Schoenheit and second place aren't supposed to be a thing. He's supposed to be the very embodiment of perfection, so why the hell is someone else's name usurping his crown on the Potions leader board? In which our starring actor cannot quench the flames of academic rivalry and resentment that consume him, nor can he fathom the enigma that you are. gn! scientist! reader warnings: contains nsfw but only later, angst with a happy ending, spoilers for book five, canon-compliant violence

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MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

PREVIOUS PART ✧ ･

Scene I: Ink . 　⁺

It all starts again on a very dull morning. Staccato beats of the rain on the rickety windows of Ramshackle provide background music for Vil to drink his smoothie to. Except that’s not the only miserable music. His ears are assaulted by the conversation you’re currently having with Jamil, Rook and Ace. Does Grim count when he’s technically the other pea in your miserable pod?

“All I’m saying is that there’s no reason to make a movie series that long,” you argue. Whose movies are you referring to? Vil wishes he was paying attention earlier. “Like what have you got to say for that many movies?”

“Trickster, some people are just dedicated to the pursuit of their passion,” Rook intercedes, leaning his head on his hands to gaze at you more efficiently.

“The Fast and Furious franchise has no reason to be that long,” you lament, frustration creeping into your tone. Vil’s never heard of that movie series. He doesn’t think he wants to know what it is.

“Rook, there’s like nine sequels, and the last one especially does not make any sense,” Vil takes back his earlier thoughts. This seems to be a conversation between you and Rook, in which Ace and Jamil are unenthusiastic spectators. “There’s nothing less beautiful than plot holes.”

“Anyways,” you continue in the same breath, all hints of sadness gone. Vil’s not sure whether to be annoyed or impressed. “Do you guys feel ready for the SDC tomorrow? Your routine is really impressive.”

“My bones hurt so much,” Ace groans from behind his food. “I’ve never felt so pulverised.”

“We will win,” Jamil promises you, fiddling with his spoon on the table. You give them both a cheerful thumbs up while eating - for once, you’ve got scraps of decorum.

“I will put on my most beautiful performance knowing you’re watching, mon cher,” Rook clasps your hand between his gloved ones. Sure, Rook’s probably just being himself, but Vil can’t help the trickle of unease that he feels.

“I don’t doubt it,” you respond with a grin. “Those RSA twerps won’t know what hit them. Although, I’ve had a really weird set of dream-”

“Spudling,” Vil clears his throat to get your attention. You turn to face him, still wearing your jubilant grin. His heart almost stops. It takes all he can to not fumble while taking the lanyard out of his blazer pocket. “Keep this lanyard safe so you can come backstage as the NRC Tribe Manager.”

“Cool,” you take it one handed, still allowing Rook to clasp your other hand. Why does Vil care so much? He tries desperately to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. “Thanks!”

“We’ll go over the routine and iron out any wrinkles in around twenty minutes,” Vil continues, meeting the eyes of each cast member. He’ll just have to ignore whatever he’s feeling until after the SDC. “Make sure the rest of the potatoes are up and ready to go.”

The tell-tale signs of nervousness creep into Vil’s being after he exits the room. He has to beat Neige. No longer will he be cast aside to play the villain. The world will see what he’s got to offer.

“Mira mira, tell me who, at this moment, is the fairest of them all?” Vil speaks slowly and quietly to his phone as he makes his way to his room to get some items for practice.

“Neige LeBlanche.”

He should’ve expected it, really, but he cannot help but let his teeth grind slightly in anger. Just you wait, Neige. He’ll beat Neige fair and square. Finally, he’ll be able to step out of the villain’s shoes.

His muscles ache after his gruelling training. Nothing he won’t be able to recover from; he can’t help but push himself to his limits at the prospect of beating Neige. The rest of the crew somehow manages to execute a near-flawless performance, with only a few minor hand-placement errors.

“Wow,” you cheer them on by your designated spot next to the speakers, cradling Grim in your lap. “You guys are absolutely gonna shred the competition.”

“That’s right!” Ace grins at you, catching the water bottle you toss at him and taking a few enthusiastic swigs.

“Pass me one too,” Deuce reaches out as you toss another water bottle. It’s a natural cue for a break, and the crew decides to take a breather. Vil feels an absurd surge of pride at the sight; somehow, these ungainly tubers have managed to grow into shapely potatoes who can no doubt beat Neige.

“We’ll regroup in ten,” Vil instructs. He’s not satisfied completely, but the passion that’s been poured into this routine is undeniable. Before he can question his body, his legs are already taking him to you. You’re scratching behind Grim’s ears and look up in abject surprise at his approach.

“I need your opinion,” Vil murmurs, leaning down to you so your faces are in close proximity. You furrow your brows; he knows how unlikely it is that he’s approached you. Still, your analysis skills are seriously impressive. “Can you give me a detailed observation of our performance? Spare no detail.”

“Right,” you pull out your phone nonchalantly, scrolling through your gallery until you find the recording of the practice. Of course you’ve come prepared.

“Right at the beginning it’s a really strong start, but as soon as those first few seconds are up, Deuce always misplaces his hand-” Vil’s not sure when he joins you on the floor, leaning ever so slightly into you as you zoom into the areas of imperfection.

“You’ve noticed that too?” Vil comments. You murmur your assent, pressing play again.

“It’s only a slight error, but yeah,” you continue, pausing the video again where it’s Kalim’s misstep. “I think it’s just overeagerness and the adrenaline of performing. The rest of the errors are really just minor hiccups with the singing - but I won’t be able to point them out as well.”

“I’ll give them some extra individual instruction,” Vil promises, more to remind himself than reassure you. You turn to scrutinise him; it’s not like he’s unfamiliar with the weight of people’s gazes, but it’s just you.

“I’ve made notes on the small, consistent screw-ups that’ve surfaced recently when it comes to dance steps. Rook and Jamil are both fine, and Epel only has one,” your shoulder brushes against him as you turn extra carefully to not disturb the snoozing Grim on your lap. You hand him your class notebook, which has been filled with quick sketches of the mistakes. Vil’s eyes widen considerably at the level of diligence you’ve afforded your role. Sure, he knows your eye for detail in science, but he never thought-

“You can borrow it for a bit,” you turn the page to show him the notes you’ve made. Then suddenly you flip back to the previous page.

“I forgot you won’t be able to read them,” you sigh in exasperation. “All that work for nothing.”

Vil is oddly touched. You’ve made extensive notes just for him? He can feel the gesture warm his cheeks as he stares down at the outreached notebook, waiting for him to take it.

“The thought is appreciated,” he thanks you, carefully placing your notebook within his lap. He’s lucky the diagrams are circled with different colours marking out areas of weakness, or he’s sure he’d get lost trying to read through the scribbled notes right next to them.

“I can always just read them out if you need me too,” you lean back on one palm, balancing your body weight as you scritch under Grim’s chin. As much as the little furball wants to deny it, he’s very clearly got the mannerisms of a cat as a large purr rumbles from him. You stifle a little giggle into your shoulder.

“That- that would be great,” it’s so unlike Vil to get flustered, but he can’t help the smile that stays on his face well into the remainder of the practice.

He can’t seem to hold onto whatever hatred he had for you.

Scene II: Rot . 　⁺

The next time he sees your face is around ten minutes before the dress rehearsal on the SDC stage. Vil can feel his already straight posture adjust itself so it’s completely perfect, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by Rook, given the look the hunter shoots him. He’s ignoring that.

“They almost didn’t let me in,” you complain, striding over to Rook and waving the lanyard that’s around your neck. Vil’s not sure how they could’ve missed it, with it being what can only be described as a neon red.

“It’s good to see you regardless, mon chou,” Rook is once again clasping your hands, and once again you’re not pulling away.

“I’m going to ignore that you’ve just called me a cabbage,” you comment, looking around at the stage. The little furball that’s normally with you is nowhere to be found; Vil isn’t sure whether to be relieved that he isn’t wreaking havoc here, or whether to be worried that he’s wreaking havoc elsewhere. “Where do I sit while watching?”

“There’s actually the front seats directly next to the stage,” Vil points to the special row reserved for managers and important personnel. You unhook your hands from Rook’s to turn to where Vil’s pointing, your eyes lighting up as you see the comfortable looking chairs set up.

“Right, thanks,” you flash an extremely brief smile at both of them. It seems that whatever rivalry you had with him has been dissolved on your end. He doesn’t know if he should be insulted or happy about it. “Break both legs for both performances.”

“What?” Vil mutters to himself as you stride away enthusiastically. Maybe it’s just a saying from wherever you’re from. It’s ‘break an arm’ for performances, what are you on about? “What could that possibly mean?”

“Mr. Shoenheit, we’re about to go on air to tape your practice performance,” a cameraman apologetically interrupts Vil’s musings. He snaps to attention, letting his face fall back into the most professional poker face he can manage.

“Of course, I’ll get the NRC Tribe into formation,” Vil responds smoothly, waving the rest of the crew to the front of the stage. It only takes a minute; they’re clearly enthusiastic (if not a bit nervous) to perform in front of people who aren’t you and Grim. Deep breaths. A wave of resounding calm flows through him; it’s a lucid state he’s perfected before each and every performance.

The first notes of the rhythmic song start. His eyes unfocus slightly, allowing his muscle memory to take control for the most part. It’s now just a matter of pouring his emotions into the song and dance to truly capture the hearts of those watching. The flow. The haze. It all becomes a part of him, and he knows the rest of those dancing up on stage with him can feel it. Surely they feel the connection of their passion?

He meets your eyes, your wide, enraptured eyes as you gaze at him. He doesn’t fully realise, but the words he sings are for your ears for now. Let this be dedicated to you, and he can worry later about sharing the passion he feels with the rest of the spectators. Vil’s not emotionally stupid; he can tell his feelings have veered into territory that he simply doesn’t want to acknowledge yet. He just has to let them flow into his performance and worry about the rest later.

His mind is deliciously clear, enjoying the endorphins pumping through his blood at the pleasant stretch of movement. It’s already halfway done? The altered passage of time when he’s in the zone is always a surprise. From your excited grin, he can safely assume this performance is one, if not the, best they’ve given. And it’s all for you to watch, before it’s posted for the world to see.

Raucous applause disrupts his flow as the cameras are cut with a signal from the camera crew. You’re standing and clapping your hands with some serious force as you join them up on stage.

“Almost moved me to tears,” you joke, congratulating them on a flawless performance. “Seriously though, you guys are ready.”

You don’t need to say anymore. You stand back to give them space, but Vil watches in dawning horror as you bump into the one and only Neige LeBlanche. It’s only a mild shoulder bump, but it’s happened. The two of you have made contact.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologise profusely, taking a big step back. “I should’ve been looking where I was going.”

“It’s fine, really,” Neige smiles at you, sickeningly sweet. Beside Vil, the NRC dance crew members look at you with incredulity. Why are you so goddamn oblivious? “I shouldn’t have approached this way.”

“If you’re sure,” you trail off, noting the weird looks directed your way by Ace and Deuce. “What the hell are you guys gawking at?

Before Vil can say anything, you’re already being yanked away by Ace’s insistent tugging. Your brows are still furrowed. Goddamn. Have you really never heard of Neige LeBlanche?

It seems Ace is interrogating you with that very question, judging by the furrowed glances he sends both your way and Neige’s. It seems Neige is quick to mask his surprise, walking towards Vil (which was probably the whole reason he approached the group in the first place).

“Your group was amazing,” Neige gushes - his eyes are lit up with awe. Vil feels… nothing, eerily enough. All that’s coursing through him is malicious calm.

“Thank you,” he maintains the professional image easily and smoothly, not missing the way Kalim and Deuce’s eyes swivel between him and Neige.

“It was truly a sight to behold; I had chills just watching,” Neige continues with starry eyes. “I can’t wait to work with you again!”

“It has been a while, hasn’t it?” Vil muses calmly, letting the air of conversation fizzle out. Out of his peripherals, he spots you and Ace rejoin the group. Unfortunately, it seems Neige has also spotted you again; he shoots you a smile and turns to you.

“Hi, I didn’t catch your name earlier,” Neige’s innocent question leads you to a quick pause before introducing yourself. You’re not overly friendly, more like care-free as usual.

“I didn’t catch your name either, sorry,” you continue politely. Did Trappola wander off-topic while lecturing you? It clearly seemed like it from your slightly bewildered expression.

“Neige LeBlanche, at your service,” Neige’s eyes carry that stupefied look for only a second before it’s swiftly replaced by a cheery smile. Nothing. Vil suppresses a snort of laughter at your politely unknowing expression. Of course you’d be like this, meeting the arguably most famous person in the land with no respect for their importance.

“Cool, I’ll leave you guys to it,” you respond amiably, sending a thumbs up his way. You’ve just upped and left? Vil turns to the side slightly to stifle his laughter as you wander back to the seats where you’ve left your notebook. Utterly lacking proper conversation etiquette as usual. He supposes it’s a positive seeing the Neige LeBlanche seemingly at a loss for words.

“Was that NRC’s manager?” Neige asks Vil. With dawning horror, Vil realises that most of his crew is also standing at the first row with you, due to their practice slot being finished.

“Yes,” Vil responds succinctly, watching Neige watch your movements as you talk with Rook. You’re currently being rattled like a rag-doll with the way he’s clasping your shoulders and shaking you slightly, no doubt grilling you over how you didn’t know who Neige was. He can hear your raucous laughter from all the way on stage.

“Your manager this year is awesome,” Neige compliments, leaning forward slightly to see the action further. Vil suppresses the shudder of disgust. No way this is happening right now.

“Ah, I’ve got to go round up my own crew,” Neige comments distractedly, looking around him. Vil gladly takes this opportunity to take his leave to join the rest of his group, leaving nothing behind but a goodbye.

That bastard. Vil watches the concluding moves of the RSA crew’s performance with barely concealed disgust from his seat in the stands.

“We’ve been had,” he utters in shock. No way. That bumbling performance they’ve put on-

“What do you mean?” Kalim asks in dismay at Vil’s change in attitude.

“He’s right,” Jamil agrees with a heavy sigh. “Look at how much they’re appealing to all demographics with their sugary sweet performance.”

Deep resentment begins to fester within Vil. A familiar ringing noise fills his ears as he tunes out the chatter of everyone surrounding him. He almost doesn’t feel the way he slips out of his seat and down the stairs leading to the rooms within the colossal arena. He feels the pressure of a heavy glass bottle within the palm of his hand, not even having to look at it to know it’s one of Epel’s apple juice bottles. He’s only dimly aware of subconsciously infusing the drink with the same curse he used during the poison assessment.

May those who drink this fall into an endless slumber, Fairest One.

The comforting bubbling slosh of the drink lets him know it’s been tampered with. A small, rational part of his brain urges him not to do this; the rest of his body is consumed by an abyss of disgust and hatred. Gunpowder and other acrid chemical smells appear in wisps, only registering faintly as familiar with his nose. He ignores it all.

“Hi, Neige,” Vil smiles brightly at the youth in front of one of the backstage doors. “I just wanted to congratulate you on your wonderful performance.”

One heartbeat.

Neige turns at the sound of Vil’s uncharacteristically cheerful voice. He doesn’t suspect anything amiss, but Vil supposes he’s always been that way.

“It makes me really happy hearing that from someone I admire a lot,” Neige beams back. Perfect.

Two heartbeats.

“How about a drink? I’ve become rather partial to this brand of apple juice,” Vil’s smile is rehearsed; it’s absolutely oozing with venom.

“Sure!” Neige agrees enthusiastically. “I saw the brand on your Magicam a few weeks back - I was even going to order before I realised it had all sold out.”

Three heartbeats is all it takes to deceive him.

It’s quite ironic, isn’t it? Vil’s downfall has been secured by Neige over the course of his life, whereas Neige’s downfall will be brought about in only a few seconds. The smooth glass of the apple juice bottle does not reveal the curse roiling within. It’s perfect - scentless, colourless and lethal. He wants to laugh when Neige accepts the cool glass bottle so easily. Has he no sense of danger?

“Roi des Neiges!” Who does that voice belong to? With a start, Vil turns to see Rook’s slightly dishevelled form as he runs up to Neige. “My apologies for interrupting the two of you, but the staff were looking for you, Neige.”

“Roi des Neiges..” Neige’s voice trails away as he stares contemplatively at Rook. “Wait-”

“My, I’m absolutely parched after running around looking for you,” Rook swiftly takes charge of the conversation. Why now? Vil can feel sharp cracking within his very soul. “Might I trouble you to let me have some of that refreshing juice you hold?”

No.

“Of course,” Neige agrees enthusiastically, if not a little perplexed.

“You should hurry back, Neige,” Rook continues, taking the bottle offered kindly. “And do not come back here.”

“Huh? What do you-”

“Go on, off with you! Away!” Neige’s question is sharply cut off by Rook’s insistence. Vil can hear him scurry off, like a little rodent.

“That sweet, tart aroma,” Rook breathes. With a start of horror, Vil notices that the cork of the flask has been removed. “Truly.. Epel’s hometown beverage is magnifique, to say the least.”

“I shall drink it to the very last drop, Roi des Poisons,” his knowing gaze meets Vil’s stricken one as he slowly raises the bottle to his lips.

No.

“Don’t do it, Rook!”

Glass shattering. It’s all Vil can do to keep track of what’s happening. His head feels like it’s underwater.

“He used his signature spell to curse the apple juice!” It’s the same speaker from earlier. Kalim?

“-look on his face was the same as Jamil’s-”

“-lost control-”

“Rook,” Vil’s voice rasps. He’s not sure he made the conscious decision to speak. The hunter turns to him with eyes not holding anger or disappointment, but concern. “Why did you..?”

“I wanted to believe in you,” Rook holds his gaze with no traces of accusation. “If it was cursed, I still wanted to taste it. I wanted to taste the fruit of a poison derived from an obsession with beauty bordering on madness.”

Madness?

Vil tunes them all out. He’s dimly aware of you speaking in concerned, hushed tones to the rest of them. Why are you here as well?

“Vil, do you have any idea how foolish that was?” Kalim’s voice is rimmed with desperate emotions. “After all that work, after saying the other teams would look like spuds compared to us, why stoop to this?”

Why stoop to this? Can’t he see that there is no other way? Rage pummels his veins, ripping through his body, his mind, his soul. Something gathers within him, dark and inky and fatal.

“That’s what I want to know,” Vil’s voice is laced with ice, and pure venom. “I’ve come to a realisation. That I… can never win! I’m going to handle Neige myself.”

“Trickster, Kalim! Do not inhale that mist rising from the floor! It’s the evaporated form of that cursed liquid!” Rook’s urging has hints of desperation within it. He turns to Vil. “I don’t see why one glass would have such a drastic… Oh, Vil, you didn’t-”

“Stop looking at me with those eyes,” Vil pleads. It’s not just Rook, he can see you as well, looking at him with that gaze that makes him want to bury himself away. “I just wanted to be the fairest, so why? Why? Why am I so ugly?”

“Roi des Poisons, you are far from ugly,” Rook calls out to him, reaching out a hand. Vil longs to take it, but he can’t. He’s too far gone.

“You haven’t actually hurt anyone!” Kalim’s pleas fall on uncaring ears.

“Silence!” Vil’s voice snaps. He can almost see himself from a separate plane, mist rising up around him in acrid, poisonous billows. He can see you, swaying on your feet slightly, looking more shaky than your companions. “What do any of you know? What does it matter if any of you forgive me? I can’t forgive myself!”

Let go.

Dark streaks overcome his vision, ebbing and flowing along the edges. It would be nice, to hand over the reins for a while, wouldn’t it? To let go of his fury, his resentment, his jealousy. What a dream.

“If I just melt everyone into hideous messes,” Vil’s barely aware of speaking. It’s a rather distorted voice, isn’t it? He can’t help but laugh. “Then I’ll be the fairest one of all, won’t I?”

The last thing he sees before it all overcomes him is your stricken face. He’s not sure you’ve ever worn such an expression before. He’s unlikely to forget those eyes, your facial muscles contorting into a painting of intermingling horror and worry. Why does he feel that shame rising again?

Didn’t he let go already?

Scene III: Wake . 　⁺

“I was the villain bullying the hero in the last play, too. Why do I keep getting picked to play the bad guy? Do I really look that mean?”

Villains never stay on stage for the whole play. Once their role is finished, all they can do is watch from the shadows as the happy ending plays out. What I want is to stay on stage longer than anyone else.

“Those kids were trying to hold me accountable for a work of fiction. Silly boys, the lot of them.”

I always aim for one role - the hero. But… all I ever get to be is the villain.

“Vil is too special to play the part of a regular teen that viewers can relate to. Without that reliability, I don’t think he’ll ever pull off playing a hero.”

I would do anything to be beautiful. The most rigorous training. The most tedious hair and skin care regimens. I would shy away from none of it. And yet.. Why? Why is it never me? All I want is to stay on stage until the end of a show.

In the end, it’s not the gentle splattering of rain on his face that wakes him up. It’s some foreign warmth on his face that causes his eyes to slowly open. Framed by his eyelashes and the haze of a deep slumber is your face. It’s as if you know, the way you look at him with such tenderness and concern. It’s as if you’ve pulled him from the deep recesses of his memories yourself, with the way your rough hands prop his head up so gently.

“How am I..” Vil rasps out, looking at you with nothing but queries in his eyes. His eyes search over your tired expression, the way the sclera of your eyes is still tinged a slight purple, and the various small cuts across your face. Did he do this? Waves of shame hit him and he can’t bear to meet your gaze.

“Thank goodness you’re awake, Vil,” you murmur down at him. Is this the first time you’ve said his name? It sounds foreign on your lips, and unbearably sweet. Why aren’t you mad at him? Why do you keep looking at him with those unaccusing eyes?

“Oh, Vil.. fair Vil,” Rook sighs in relief, crouching beside you on the rain soaked ruins. Ruins? Vil takes the opportunity to look round the battle site, the upheaved flagstones, the despoiled decorations. Another wave of shame meets him when he notices the haggard faces of his crew (is that Kalim bawling his eyes out? And is that Jamil scolding him?).

“I’m.. sorry you had to see that undignified display,” Vil apologises, making sure each and every one of his words is sincere. He cannot begin to comprehend how much shame he’s feeling at the moment. “Only third-rate people throw temper tantrums and take their problems out on others. My conduct was most unbecoming of all…”

“Y’right about that,” Epel grumbles, but without a trace of actual malicious intent. “Thought ya said people grow out of temper tantrums by the time they’re three?”

“Yes, you’re absolutely right, Epel,” Vil uses your shoulder to haul himself up so he can sit up. You don’t seem to mind, even grabbing on to his wrist to steady him. With another crash of guilt, he realises how your grasp is shaky, no doubt due to your exposure to the curse when you don’t have any sort of natural magic resistance. “I’m no longer fit to be your leader.”

“You haven’t actually hurt anyone, Vil,” Kalim argues. Vil can see him approaching and standing next to where Rook crouches. “You haven’t stepped over that brink.”

“He’s right,” Jamil says, jabbing his thumb in the general direction of outside the coliseum. “Neige is dancing out there happily with the seven dwarfs. It’s a stretch, but we can say we got worked up and had a team brawl in here.”

“Yeah,” Ace interjects. “No way we’re letting you pull out because of a few bruises, after the wringer we’ve been put through.”

“All of you,” Vil feels a horrendous mushy feeling swell up within him. You’re still supporting him with the way you’re steadying his wrist. “You just want to pretend nothing’s happened?”

“I never said that,” Jamil retorts, but his face blooms into his signature smile. “We can just hold off explanations until after the competition.”

“You truly are wicked, Jamil,” Vil replies with a small laugh. It hurts, and he feels his chest contort with pain. Your grip on his wrist tightens and you steady his shoulder with your other hand, clearly not missing the way his face twists into a grimace.

“Here, I’ll help you stand, alright?” you’re surprisingly strong, with the way you unceremoniously (but carefully) haul him up so he stands leaning into your firm touch. Even with your clearly weakened state, you still grip onto him as if he’s the fragile one that isn’t allowed to fall. Vil can’t even bring himself to protest.

“I wasn’t the one who made the shot so strong, Vil was,” Deuce seemingly replies to a conversation Vil’s unconsciously tuned out. “The spell stores all the damage I take, then hits it back all at once. So it was only potent because of Vil’s potent magic.”

Ah. Deuce seems to be describing the final hit Vil can barely remember taking, the one that likely brought him back to the brink of consciousness.

“Don’t make it sound so violent!” Deuce splutters in indignation, and Vil once again realises he’s tuned out. He doesn’t particularly mind, focusing instead on the way you unconsciously seem to tense your muscles against him when shifting, the way you still have that signature chemical smell to you, the way you’re looking directly at him with that expression-

“Signature… You mean that’s my signature spell?” Deuce seems to be coming to a realisation with sparkling eyes. Good on him. Beside him, Ace seems to be coming to an unpleasant realisation with the way he’s incredulously muttering to himself about how he can’t believe Deuce has mastered his signature spell before him.

“Behold, Vil is awestruck and weak-kneed from the splendour of your blow,” Rook proclaims, gesturing to the not-awestruck Vil.

“I’d wager he’s also weak-kneed from something else,” Jamil comments sardonically, looking pointedly at the way you’ve got him in your grasp. Vil only hopes you’ve become suddenly preoccupied with something else.

“No, I’m just beaten head-to-toe,” Vil swiftly retorts. “That last blow did strike soundly, though. Nicely done, Deuce.”

“Thank you, sir!” Deuce smiles at him eagerly. “Although, I don’t know what to do about the wrecked stage.”

“It’s not feasible to fix it all with magic,” Jamil replies pragmatically, looking around him with a calculating expression. “With what power we have left.. Every scenario running through my mind all ends with the same brick wall.”

“Does that mean.. SDC is…” Epel trails off, looking at Jamil with a dawning sense of horror.

“What do we have here?” The new, booming voice is accompanied by green fireflies that send a small shiver down Vil’s spine. What’s he doing here?

“I thought I’d arrive earlier,” Malleus hums with a touch of surprise, surveying the surroundings briefly. “What do I find but a stage laid to waste?”

“Hornton!” you exclaim, and Vil can feel your sternum vibrate through his shoulder. You’re.. acquainted with Malleus Draconia enough to call him nicknames? He can’t even be surprised anymore. “There’s still two hours until the SDC opens!”

“Hornton?” It’s a collective response from the rest of the crew, voicing Vil’s thoughts.

“Do you have a death wish, calling your upperclassman that?” Ace shudders at your audacity.

“Do you even know who that is?” Epel’s shocked voice causes you to blink in surprise at his tone.

“He told me to call him whatever, so I did,” Vil has to stifle a laugh as you shrug. Of course you did.

“However did you get into the coliseum, Roi des Dragons?” Rook sounds positively astonished.

“I was invited by the Child of Man from Ramshackle,” Malleus replies, gesturing to you.

“Yep,” you affirm. Vil feels as though you’re ignoring the other, more pressing question Rook’s asked.

“The entire venue is still enveloped by the poison mist generated by Vil,” Rook’s explanation trails off as Malleus holds up a clawed hand.

“I am impervious to any curse, no matter how powerful,” Malleus takes another look around the wrecked coliseum. “Whatever could’ve happened here?”

Vil watches as you briefly and efficiently describe the events, listening extra hard for the parts where he would’ve been unconscious. It’s curious, the way you don’t let any trace of exhaustion or pain enter your voice. It only takes around two minutes for you to give the gist of the situation to Malleus.

“Children of men, I shall bestow upon you a gift,” Malleus’ words come with an incredible magic pressure that leaves Vil’s eyes wide. He steals a glance at you, and watches your own expression become slack with awe and curiosity.

“That’s Malleus Draconia for you,” Vil murmurs to you. Your brow furrows as you look down at Vil.

“That’s Malleus? Hornton over there was the one everyone was so excited about at the Spelldrive tournament?” you ask incredulously. After all this, you’re still holding on to that nickname? Your eyes dart back to those green fireflies that are somehow lifting all the ruined flagstones and pillars, and rearranging them into pristine condition. Within the space of a few heartbeats, Malleus has managed to restore the conditions of the arena into an exact replica of how they were before.

“He’s ludicrously out of our league,” Ace mumbles in awe. Vil can’t help but agree.

“Thanks a bunch, Hornton!” you beam at Malleus, who stares at you for a brief second before breaking out into chuckles. It’s the first time Vil’s ever heard the fae laugh, but you’re full of surprises as usual.

“Though you know who I am, you still stick to that pet name?” Malleus sounds terribly amused, looking at you as you fumble with an explanation. He interrupts whatever apology is about to leave your lips with another chuckle. “Truly, I do not mind.”

He turns to look at Vil with a resolute expression in his eyes that’s made all the more disconcerting by his piercing green eyes. “I’ve set the stage for you, Schoenheit. I trust you will keep me entertained.”

“I hardly need your urgings to put on my finest performance,” Vil suppresses the wince of pain as he straightens his posture, ignoring the very tangible reality of you still grasping onto him. “Be prepared for a standing ovation.”

“I’ll expect nothing less. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Malleus’ last words fade out with his disappearance. The only traces left behind by him are those green fireflies.

“Lady Luck is truly on our side,” Rook comments after the flashes fade out. “I was hardly expecting Roi des Dragons to appear here.”

Me neither. Though it seems today is a day full of surprises.

Vil leans into your warmth a bit more, and you indulge him. The arm carefully wrapped around him is sure and steady - he wants nothing more than to stay here until the end of time. You don’t ask questions, looking past his shoulder so you can direct the crew to their water. He knows he must let go to perform - it’s highly unusual to see the Vil Schoenheit rely on anyone, even if it’s a little bit. To see him clinging to someone, his rival of all people…

Gingerly, he lets go of you. Your grasp on him is firm to the very end as you let go and make sure he’s not at risk of fainting. The concern you display is almost comedic, but you don’t say anything.

He can feel your eyes burning into his back as he walks away, but he doesn’t look back.

Scene IV: Unopened Missive . 　⁺

Vil supposes it’s comedic as he pours everything he’s got left into the final performance, only to score exactly one point below RSA. It’s always like this; him, exactly one step behind Neige. He can’t fault Neige, anymore, not after he’s come to terms with it. As the thrum of music faded and the flow of performance left him, he was acutely aware of the raucous applause he drew. He did not care. All he was searching for were your eyes.

He’s sure Lady Luck is laughing straight at him as Rook proclaims himself as one of Neige’s biggest fans. What betrayal! Of course this has been added onto the list of surprises. It’s strange; he doesn’t feel the annoyance he’d expect to be simmering through his veins at that moment. It seems he’s let that go.

It’s practically hilarious as he joins Neige on stage to sing an encore. Only scraps of bitterness remain - had Vil not exhausted the whole team earlier, they might have won and took back that one measly vote. He’s accepted that. Still, his frustration is palpable as he leaves his crew to sing with Neige, though not to the audience. His professionalism is the one thing he’s managed to keep up.

“Hey,” your voice breaks him out of the reverie. It’s bizarre, the way you’ve escorted him back to Pomefiore, even though he’s got Rook and Epel to do that. It’s even more bizarre, the way he’s let you gently drag him to his room, where Rook and Epel have already gone back to their own chambers. They already know it’s best to leave him alone when he’s in a bad mood. So why.. why are you still-

The sharp tang of medicinal ointment brings him back to the current situation. You’re poised between his legs as he sits at his vanity, with an assortment of bottles behind you. It’s strangely intimate with the way the soft dusk lighting envelopes you with its mysterious aura. He’s not wearing any makeup, but you don’t seem to care; your gaze caresses his features, laced with only concern.

Please, don’t look at me with those eyes.

“I’m going to begin, alright?” you murmur, searching his eyes for any traces of discomfort. Vil nods wordlessly. The pressure on his chin from one hand of yours is feather light; he finds himself leaning into it slightly. Your other hand lightly brushes over the cuts on his face with the ointment swabbed onto a cotton pad - strangely, it lacks the usual sting which normally elicits a sharp hiss of surprise.

“I made this ointment myself,” you explain after seeing the surprise conveyed in his eyes. Of course you did. In any case, it seems to be working fine, judging by the rapid cooling sensation he’s feeling across his face.

“Why-” Vil begins to ask as you cap the ointment bottle and twist it closed with practised ease. Your hand is still on his face, but he can’t bear to pull away. Not here, in the privacy of his room, where the only eyes upon him are yours. “-why are you still here? Don’t you dislike me?”

You pause in the rummaging you’re doing in your pocket. Vil holds his breath as you turn to him with that contemplative look you wear while figuring out potions.

“I don’t actually dislike you,” you comment matter-of-factly, tilting his face to each side to observe your handiwork. “I’ve got better things to do than spend my energy stewing over you.”

Ouch.

“You still haven’t answered my first question,” Vil’s composure is rapidly slipping down the drain as he remains (quite literally) in the palm of your hand. Your gaze doesn’t falter. “Do you just feel bad for me?”

“No,” you respond idly, still tilting his head this way and that. It’s like watching a cat bat at a toy. “I thought it might be good to have company and rely on someone else for once.”

There’s something else you aren’t saying. It’s unspoken in your eyes and the way your brow makes imperceptible furrows every few minutes. Vil’s breath hitches in his throat slightly.

“Did you-” he’s interrupted by that look, not one of pity, but one of resolute determination.

“Yes, I saw those memories,” you admit. You don’t look at him with an apologetic expression, one that screams pity. It’s a relief. “I didn’t mean to, like at all.”

“It’s fine,” Vil supposes it is fine. You wouldn’t tell anyone, he feels. He watches as your expression shrivels up into one of abject surprise as you feel around in your pocket, drawing out what seems to be a cream-coloured, expensive looking envelope. Vil knows exactly what it is, even as you scan the front quizzically then shrug. Of course. You can’t read the runes.

“It’s the results for the poison assessment,” Vil supplies. Strange. He doesn’t feel any excitement, or fear - it’s bordering on the neutrality of acceptance. It seems you feel the same way, as you just toss the envelope down with disregard onto the vanity and continue your search in your pockets.

“Aha!” your triumphant exclamation leaves him blinking in surprise. Why haven’t you acknowledged the results at all? You brandish another bottle of ointment in front of him excitedly, almost hitting him on the nose due to your very close proximity. “I’ve found the muscle and bone ointment!”

“Aren’t you going to look at the results?” Vil asks incredulously - it slips out before he can even comprehend he’s said it.

“I can’t even read them,” you untwist the ointment with your teeth, leaving tiny dents in the metal cap. “I’ll look at them later.”

The potent tang of nettles permeates the air as you set the open bottle onto the table behind you, letting go of Vil’s face.

“I’m going to need you to undress so I can access your back,” your nonchalant tone makes Vil’s reaction delayed. He can feel the back of his neck heat up at your words. “I heard the nastiest little crunch when Deuce’s spell hit you, so I’m gonna have to check those ribs.”

“Right,” Vil swallows thickly, standing up. Wrong move. You’re much too close now, pressed up against the vanity with him standing right in front of you. His body is brushing up against yours, and he can feel your body heat. Shit. He moves out of the vicinity to the bathroom, with all the composure of a professional actor.

“This ointment’s designed for deeper use than surface level injuries,” you call out behind him. “It’s gonna sting!”

“That’s fine,” Vil responds before shutting his bathroom door. He quickly loosens his shirt, wishing it were your hands doing- His heart pounds in his ribcage as he shuts down the thought. It only takes a minute before his shirt and blazer are both tossed into the laundry basket, all too soon considering the flushed sheen emerging on his face.

One final cursory inspection of his face in the mirror is necessary before he goes out to face you. He’s almost taken aback - not by the lack of makeup which he’s already accustomed to, but the sheer vulnerability within his expression. He looks like such a mess, and you’ve not even commented on it? You’ve just accepted that it doesn’t matter what he looks like; you’re going to treat him the same regardless. It’s a far cry to what he values as his principles.

He pushes open the door hesitantly. His torso is exposed, and he suddenly feels the jarring pangs of shyness. Why now? He’s gone topless for movie scenes before, for Sevens’ sake! Steeling himself, he opens the door completely. You’ve placed the vanity chair by the bed- surely you’re not-

“You can either lie on your stomach here, or sit up on the chair, which might be more uncomfortable,” you explain briefly, rolling up your uniform sleeves as if you’re about to conduct a lab practical. Am I the lab rat? “I’ve picked up a few massage tips here and there, so overall it should be a quite pleasant experience. Of course, if you want to omit the massage-”

“No, it’s fine,” Vil lets out a shaky breath at your nonchalance, gingerly lying on his front on his covers. Jack of all trades, aren’t you? He doesn’t realise just how tense his muscles have been until you press your thumbs into the muscles situated around his scapula. Your hands are coated in some sort of resinous, volatile substance, judging from the brief alcohol fumes flaring up whenever you place your hands down. You were right, there is a sting, but it’s not as sharp as he expected.

Why are you doing this? It’s a question that keeps replaying in his mind’s movie theatre, with the cruel laughing soundtrack interspersed in a tragic loop every few seconds. The two of you aren’t friends, and what you’ve done goes beyond the level of care Vil normally receives from friendship. He can’t complain, not when your warm, rough hands are finally on him, even if it’s to just rub the ointment in.

“Now, I’m no medic,” there’s a faint apology in your tone as you concentrate the ointment into a specific, aching spot. Vil barely registers the sting of pain due to your burning touch. “But I think that your rib’s been bruised at the very least in that spot, and that ointment should’ve healed the worst of it.”

His rapid heart rate distracts him from the loss of body heat from you as you move your hands away from his body. Please don’t stop. He feels a heavy pressure on his right shoulder, and to his surprise it’s the palm of your hand waking him from his reverie.

“I’ll bandage you up just to be sure,” you murmur, shifting your weight from foot to foot and looking around. It’s clear you’re hesitant, maybe due to your lack of experience playing a so-called “doctor”. Still, judging by the way the deep ache within has eased, you’ve done a pretty darn good job, as Epel would no doubt say. “Sit up.”

Vil obeys, gingerly swinging his legs round the bed until he’s sitting, and you’re once again hovering over him as you slip a clean bandage out of its plastic wrapping. He breathes in the comforting warmth of your body heat and repertoire of chemical smells that mask the floral traces on your skin. Don’t you feel the rushed thrum of blood that’s pumping through each vein and each capillary, as you wrap your arms around him to begin winding the bandage?

Is he nothing more than a mere patient to that clinical precision you currently sport?

“What would you have chosen, if you won the poison assessment?” Vil suddenly asks as you clip the bandage into place with a satisfied hum around the middle of his torso.

“Why are you asking as if I lost?” you let out a bemused chuckle, gesturing to the still-very-closed envelope sitting on his vanity. “We don’t know yet.”

“Don’t change the subject,” Vil could melt with the way you’re gazing down at him as he sits with you standing in between his legs. Your sharp eyes contain a warning, one he has no intention of heeding as he presses the subject. “Won’t you tell me?”

“Fine,” your voice rasps slightly as you stoop down to his level. He can’t help but shiver at the sensation of your warm breath rustling past his ear. “Are you really that eager to know?”

“Go on,” Vil almost pleads, and he’s sure you hear the quiet hints of desperation in his voice. Your eyes lock back onto his; he’s slightly regretting asking you as he sees the dangerous glints in your eye. His breath hitches as he realises it’s the same, all-consuming look of seriousness you reserve for your experiments and potions. It’s as if he already knows what your answer will be, with the way his blood excitedly thrums to the surface to respond with an echoing yes.

Please.

The rough pads of your fingers meet his chin again in that gentle grasp as you tilt his head upwards. This is really happening, right? It’s as if he’s in a haze; anticipation of your movements is the only thing breaking him out of it.

“Can I..” you murmur, brushing a thumb over his bottom lip. He holds his breath. Yes. Your mere touch calls forth fireworks to explode in a vibrant cacophony.

“Please,” Vil’s quiet gasp is all the encouragement you clearly need, because the next thing he knows you’ve stepped forward and met his open mouth with yours. The heady taste of woodsmoke and cherry syrup lingering on your tongue is positively intoxicating. He’s not sure, but he can also taste the coppery tang of blood as well. Perhaps it’s from the heat of battle earlier? Regardless, his blood rises in response; he’s sure his face is flushed a deep pink.

You don’t hesitate, leaning his head to the side with your fingers to kiss him deeper and deeper. He groans into your mouth, feeling you smile as you taste his desperation. He positively convulses as he feels your hand trace the bare skin of his side; he’s so vulnerable like this, and he knows you feel it as you press into his body.

Vil gasps for air when you pull back. A string of saliva connects your lips to his; with a start, he realises that your lips are shiny and traced with the purple lipgloss he’s wearing. Your eyes are half-lidded with intensity and some other roiling emotion he can’t place. It makes his breathing even more uneven when he realises he’s made you look like that.

“Like what you see?” even now, traces of rivalry still lace Vil’s tone; he cannot help but provoke you to elicit another reaction. Your gaze slowly travels up and down Vil’s dishevelled appearance, making sure to scour every inch of it. He holds his breath when your lip curls in disdain.

“Please,” your voice rolls deep from your throat with sarcasm. It makes Vil’s blood cells burn with want. The sharp, intense look in your eyes only becomes more turbulent; it’s insanely attractive to be at your mercy.

“Don’t make me laugh-” your fingers curl into his chin more, and Vil can feel the suppressed strength within the grip. Blood is rushing straight down, and he can barely keep track of all the thoughts racing through his head. “-not with the way I’ve seen you almost do flips for my attention, with your one-sided rivalry.”

“Ah-” Vil’s gasp sounds suspiciously like a moan as you move closer, pressing a knee in between his legs inadvertently. You’ve clearly heard it, with the way you furrow your brow and pause your motions.

“Did you-” your eyes fully take in his heavy breathing and the way he’s coming undone from just kissing you. Your question is answered immediately.

“Please, keep going,” Vil pleads, removing one hand from where it’s gripping the sheets to your hip. You swallow thickly, eyes darting between his hand and face.

“You sure you want to continue?” you prompt, eyes settling into that same dangerous glint once again. “I don’t want to aggravate your injuries..”

“Please,” Vil all but begs, seeing the way your eyes glaze over with desire. The hazy, smoky smell of your skin almost acts like an aphrodisiac; he cannot help but be ensnared.

“Alright,” your voice is hushed when you tilt his head upwards to access his jugular, biting into the area slightly with sharp canines. He knows you feel it: the way his pulse jumps erratically beneath your touch. You draw out quiet, hushed gasps with every mark you make on his throat, with every movement of your waist against his bare torso, with every nudge of your knee in between his legs.

More.

He doesn’t even realise he’s slowly rolling his hips against your leg to feel any sort of friction until you press down on his hips with the hand that’s been supporting his shoulder.

“Not so fast,” you breathe against his skin - his back can’t help but arch slightly at the feeling of your breath against his neck. “Allow me to take care of you.”

It’s your words that make him pause in shock; they’re an eerie echo of what you said in his dream. Judging by the lack of change in your expression, you don’t know about it; thank Sevens.

You’re pressing into him, forcing him into the bed on his forearms while you lean in, kissing his mouth feverishly to bring out his gasps and moans. He’s unbearably hard, all the more so because of your knee moving out of reach each time he chases that delicious high. This is better than any dream.

Burning kisses trail their way from below his ear down to his collarbone. He’s suddenly glad for the wonders of concealer as he thinks about the marks you’re leaving. On the other hand, he’s strangely into the idea of people seeing he’s taken by you, so much so that you’re marking him up like this.

“Ah- right there,” Vil can’t suppress the noises he’s making as your lips travel down to his chest. He doesn’t care who hears him; he’s seeing goddamn stars with the way your tongue circles his nipple and your thumb mirrors the action with the other one. The pressure you’re applying deftly is making him intoxicated.

“You look so beautiful like this,” your fingers glide over the neatly wrapped bandages on his chest, trailing down to his waist. He doesn’t think it’s possible for his heart to beat any more erratically without thumping straight out of his chest. Is he really sure that you haven’t magically seen his dreams? After all, you’ve seen his memories. He waits with bated breath for your next move, not realising that you’ve already positioned yourself to hover between his thighs with a small grin on your face.

“Mind if I take these off?” you hook your thumbs around the tailored trousers he’s wearing. It takes considerable self-restraint to not tell you to just rip them off.

“Go ahead,” it’s a wonder that his voice doesn’t crack from the sheer pressure of what he’s feeling at the moment. Your grin is all edges as you efficiently unzip the front and slip the pants off. It seems that he’s surprised you when you look down at his smooth legs with your eyebrows slightly raised, taking in the fact that he’s wearing sheer black stockings to his mid thigh underneath his pants.

“All for me?” you run your fingers down his legs appreciatively, feeling the soft material underneath your fingers with an even sharper grin than before. Vil can’t help but shiver at the feather-light touches you give, contrasted sharply with the jagged vertices of your smile.

All for you.

It’s as if you can read his thoughts. You’re once again hovering between his legs, spreading them with nothing more than a gentle push. The touches you leave on his legs feel almost possessive; he cannot help but adore it. Will he be the only one seeing that expression on your face? He wants to be the only one, the only one to see the tumultuous desire warp and thrash within the glints in your eyes. It’s a far cry from your usual composure.

Sticky residue from his lipgloss is left on his soft inner thighs as you press kiss after kiss to the skin. He can feel desire pulse through you with every bruising mark you leave. It entrances him. The unspoken words you leave him are more than enough to assure him that even like this, with all his bruises and scrapes and tears, he’s beautiful.

Your hands slowly ease his underwear off; the cold air on the sensitive skin makes him hiss slightly, but it quickly turns into a gasp as you leave kisses in the crook of the skin connecting his thigh to his pelvis.

“I’m going to absolutely ruin you,” you promise quietly. The ravenous look in your eyes doesn’t subside as you gaze at him from between his legs. He can’t help but let out a small groan at your words. What would his fans say if they saw him, lying so pliant for his supposed academic rival?

One of Vil’s hands fly up to his face to muffle the moans escaping his lips when your thumb circles his slit, made all too easy by the flow of pre-cum from his dick. The other hand is left desperately clutching at the sheets of his bed as his hips involuntarily buck upwards into your hand.

“Uncover your pretty mouth,” you slowly twist your hand down, all while gazing at his flushed face. He’s already seeing stars at the friction and can barely register his hand leaving his mouth to grip the sheets. “I want to hear how good I’m making you feel.”

He can only hope that his door is soundproofed from the obscene noises leaving him as you pick up the pace. It’s not enough. Your hand moves away each time the haze of pleasure builds up, leaving him chasing after your touch. He’s sure he looks an absolute mess right now with the way tears are leaving his eyes and his brow has the sheen of sweat; you clearly don’t care as you lithely move upwards to kiss him. The cool fabric of your clothes presses into his bare skin, making him feel incredibly exposed to you.

You’re still moving with that teasing pace as you swallow down his moans. It’s unbearable, all the more so because you’re still covered in your uniform. He almost sobs in relief when your hand picks up speed and the pleasure starts steadily building in his stomach. His hips desperately grind into your hand and you let him, let him come undone with your touch and quiet praises. He’s close; the dopamine is flooding through his veins and all he can focus on is the way you touch him, the way you’re currently kissing his jaw and leaving more marks on his neck, the way you’re coaxing such obscene sounds from both his throat and from the skin on skin friction.

It builds and builds and builds, until all he can fathom is saying your name over and over, as if he’s some devout worshipper invoking some otherworldly being. He lets go, feeling the way you slow down to allow him to ride out the climax. Only white-hot pleasure courses through his mind, fading out more slowly than usual. He kisses you feverishly, feeling the warm skin on the nape of your neck as he pulls you in closer and closer. You’re now lying side by side on his bed, with you pressed up against him wearing your despoiled clothes, ones that have been despoiled by him.

“You’re removing your clothes as well, I hope?” his gaze trails down your body, looking at the offending uniform that you’re wearing. It’s a wonder he’s managed to form a coherent statement. Still, it’s only fair that you also remove the fabric with those deft hands like you did to those tailored trousers he was wearing.

“Right,” your gaze softens, moving your hands away from his body. His brows furrow with a question as he watches the hand sticky with cum approach your face- oh my. A scarlet flush blooms on his cheeks as you use your tongue to clean your hand up, before using it to lazily remove your blazer and vest. You don’t give them a second glance as you toss the clothes on the floor. The warmth you’re emitting is all the more palpable as only a thin buttoned shirt separates your skin from his. It’s incredibly attractive, watching your languid movements as you discard the shirt off to the side as well as your trousers.

The feeling of your bare skin on his shouldn’t elicit such a burning reaction from him, but it does; he groans as you lean back to slowly kiss him, feeling the way your body heat envelopes him without any barriers. He’s acutely aware of all the points your skin brushes against him - it’s insanely addicting. You’re kissing him without a care in the world, judging by the way you lazily cradle his face with your hands. He’s so malleable under your touch, so starved of affection that he’s wrapped around your pinky finger. He’s sure you can feel the way his skin flushes with a simmering heat.

The blue hour soaks you both in the gloom as your hands press him closer and closer, until he can barely distinguish where he ends and you begin. Is this what it means to become one, united in flesh?

Does he look beautiful to you like this?

He knows he does. He knows he does when you reverently trail down with your kisses, settling between his thighs again to fill him up with your fingers. He knows he does as you feverishly coax those angelic moans out of him; your eyes are blazing with desire for him. He knows he does as you draw out his climax for as long as you can so wave after wave of pleasure can keep hitting him.

It’s late evening when the two of you fall asleep, tangled together and worn out.

The letter on the vanity lies forgotten; Vil doesn’t particularly care about the results when he already feels your equal.

Scene V: Closing . 　⁺

“Goodness, trickster,” Rook’s exclamation when you emerge in the Pomefiore lounge room in the morning thankfully goes unnoticed by the few students milling about. “Our dorm uniform looks simply ravishing on you.”

“Yeah, mine got quite ruined from yesterday’s events,” your voice sounds raspy as you try to sell your act to Rook, who’s positively cooing over you. What a little prankster. Vil can’t help but glance at you from his favourite armchair. As the culprit responsible for ruining your uniform, he of course had to lend you a uniform. Still, you do look rather good in it.

“Don’t tell me you slept over and didn’t tell me?” Rook plasters a look of mock-hurt on his face, and Vil implores you to shut your mouth for once and put on the best act of your life.

“Something like that,” your expression is innocent, with the exception of your raised eyebrows. You don’t look at Vil at all as you smile at Rook, who’s unfortunately glanced over at Vil, scrutinising him with that disgustingly perceptive look.

“Does that explain the bruises on his neck?” Vil chokes on his smoothie hearing the hunter’s whisper. Of course he forgot something this morning. Of all days.

“Whatever could you mean?” you inquire nonchalantly, straightening the ironed collar of the uniform.

“Oh my,” Rook’s eyes are as wide as saucers as his gaze swivels between you and Vil. It’s rare to see him this gleeful. “You two totally slept-”

“I’m going to need you to shut it, Rook,” you cover the offender’s mouth abruptly before he can say anything more. You’re not denying it though, looking back at Vil with a wicked grin on your face.

Shit.

[seungrem]

tomie!sunghoon x gn!reader

The Curse of Sunghoon

masterlist ~*+ - part 1 of 3?? ~*+

summary: It seemed that people had become lost in their flawed tendencies since the arrival of the new student; His enigmatic spirit and flawless features made him impossible to miss- enchanting students and teachers alike. Uncanny in many ways, the boy’s name was Sunghoon, and for gn!reader, it seemed his presence was nothing other than ill-fated.

( overview: please see warnings. no pronouns mentioned excluding occasional ‘em’s, mostly an introduction to the plot, no romantic expressions between hoon & reader yet, new student!sunghoon, student!reader, and made up characters: gang leader!hoshino & stalker!rika, fic in general is more artsy than romantic )

( warnings: mentions of blood, weapons, threats, fighting/physical aggression, gangs/mob groups, a very tiny bit of gore- not detailed at all, manipulation, and stalkerish/obsessive behavior )

emoji code:

🌿 ( long story/series - 4.2k words )

🪐 ( junji ito’s Tomie AU )

+🫧 ( maybe a bit angsty )

☁️ ( stands for y/n )

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Down the stone path lined with cherry blossom trees, pink petals fluttered sporadically in the crisp spring breeze. The walk to class was always silent, though ☁️ would catch the new student walking in the distance. It was a peculiar change to the old, tedious morning routine that he was used to- partially due to the mystery that was Sunghoon.

Sunghoon was never one to look disheveled or disoriented. His skin was always glowing- so much that it often reflected light, his lengthy figure was adored by many, and his mannerisms were always gracious. To put it simply, the boy was elegant. ☁️ had heard of the many rumors surrounding his family, appearance, and connections, but never paid them mind.

It’s been a month since ☁️’s final year of school had begun, and it’s been two weeks since ☁️ had noticed Sunghoon’s presence on the cherry blossom path. Though the walks continued to be in silence, peculiarity struck the daily routine once again.

Trudging around puddles and small piles of flowers petals on a cloudy Thursday morning, ☁️’s focus remained on the stone path below. Imagine ☁️’s surprise upon almost bumping into Sunghoon, who raised an eyebrow at the action. ☁️ stumbled back and immediately matched Sunghoon’s gaze, rather embarrassed.

“Ah, I’m sorry.” ☁️ stammered, walking around Sunghoon.

“I was waiting for you.”

Sunghoon placed his hands in his pocket as ☁️ turned around.

“Oh.. why’s that?”

“We walk down this path at the same time everyday. Wouldn’t it be nice to travel together?” Sunghoon questioned monotonously.

Aside from the confusion, there was an underlying anticipation ☁️ felt when speaking to Sunghoon. It was also ☁️’s first time hearing his voice- his tone soft yet assertive.

“Yeah.. I guess it would.”

Sunghoon burst out laughing and shook his head.

“Did you really think that I’d want to walk beside you? And everyday at that?” Sunghoon took his hands out of his pocket and crossed his arms, an amused look across his face. “What humor you have.”

☁️ grimaced at the comment, looking around.

“You said you were waiting for me, though..” ☁️ muttered, anticipation transforming into anger.

“I did.” Sunghoon responded, his gaze not leaving ☁️’s. With furrowed eyebrows and rolling eyes, ☁️ took a step away from the man, about to walk away.

“I don’t want to be late, let’s go.” Sunghoon said, grabbing ☁️’s arm and continuing down the stone path. The two now walking side by side, ☁️ shook Sunghoon’s grip away as the awkward interaction began causing headache.

The rest of the walk was silent, and Sunghoon’s gesture of waiting for ☁️ became a daily occurrence. Upon arriving to the school each day, the two would give the other a look of “goodbye” to then go their separate ways.

“Is this seat taken?”

☁️ looked up to see Sunghoon standing across the cafeteria table, holding a food tray. It had been a week since the two of them began walking together.

“No.”

“Good. I was going to sit here regardless.”

An eyebrow raised, ☁️ watched as Sunghoon sat and began nipping at a salad.

“So I was wondering..” The boy began.

☁️ looked up again.

“How close are you to Hoshino?”

“Nobody’s close to Hoshino.” ☁️ responded, watching as Sunghoon continued between bites.

“What do you mean?”

“Unless you’re in his posse, I’d doubt that you’d ever get the opportunity to be ‘close’ to him. I heard that even his members don’t speak that often to him.”

“Do you think it’s by choice?”

“I don’t know. What’s it to you?” ☁️ tilted his head as Sunghoon pushed his tray aside.

“I don’t like him, he’s the root of this place’s problems.”

“Yeah, well, nobody else likes him- so you’re not alone.”

The two sat in silence as ☁️ looked around the busy cafeteria, catching the glare of Rika, a girl in their grade. Of all the times ☁️ recalled seeing her around, Rika always had two bows on each side of her long black hair, it becoming a staple in her appearance. Though, today, it seemed only one bow hung from the left side of her two pigtails.

“Is Rika staring again?” Sunghoon asked, glancing over to ☁️. “I can feel it.”

“She is.”

“Did you know that she’s quite psychotic? An absolute whacko.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s horribly obsessive- I catch her stalking me on occasion. I heard that it’s because she likes me, but who doesn’t?” Sunghoon smiled, amused by his own comment. “She’s an odd girl.”

“Yeah.. you should probably tell someone about that..” ☁️ suggested, looking over and catching her gaze once again.

“It’s alright. I usually lose her on the way home.”

Sighing, ☁️ sat with pursed lips in silence. The two were quiet until the end of the lunch period, them later walking side by side through the school hallways.

“Hey, ☁️!”

☁️ turned around to see Hoshino and three other boys approach the two of them. Initially startled, ☁️ maintained composure.

“You didn’t introduce me to your new friend.” Hoshino laughed, him now standing only inches in front of ☁️. He leaned onto a locker with his arms crossed, eyeing up ☁️ and then Sunghoon.

“His name is Sunghoon.”

“Ah, Sunghoon. The pleasure’s all mine.” Hoshino exclaimed sarcastically, holding a hand out to the boy.

“The pleasure would be mine if I didn’t think you were a bastard.” Sunghoon sneered, followed by light laughter. ☁️ stood frozen in fear as Hoshino’s shocked expression turned into one of anger. Pulling a knife from his back pocket, he pushed Sunghoon against the wall, holding it at his throat.

“Hoshino, he’s new to the school. He doesn’t know better.” ☁️ pleaded, taking steps toward the boy. Two of Hoshino’s members grabbed at ☁️’s shoulders, stopping ‘em from moving any closer.

“I don’t give warnings. Consider it your first and last.” Hoshino said, pushing Sunghoon into the wall again and backing away. He then turned to ☁️, who was still held back by the other boys. “Keep your friend in line, or you’re next.” Hoshino whispered, tapping the blade against ☁️’s lips. “K?”

Feeling their grip loosen, ☁️ watched as Hoshino turned and began down the hallway beside his posse. As soon as the group was out of sight, ☁️ turned to Sunghoon.

“I’m gonna kill you.”

“Do you think I’m scared of a little blade?” Sunghoon muttered, wiping blood off of ☁️’s lips with his thumb. He then put his thumb into his mouth, making ☁️ wince. Luckily, there were only a few people lingering in the hallways, none of them seeming to notice. Sunghoon laughed and began walking away. “I’ll see you later!”

☁️ sighed. About to walk to class, another hand gripped ☁️’s shoulder.

“Hey, ☁️.”

☁️ turned to see that strange girl, Rika.

“You’re not dating Sunghoon, right?”

“Uhm.. no, I’m not.” ☁️ responded, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, I just didn’t want anything bad happening to you. You know.” Rika smiled and patted ☁️’s shoulder, her silver braces shining as she did so.

“I don’t know what you mean, actually.”

“As long as you’re not taking him away, there’s no need for you to worry about it.” Rika whispered, followed by a boisterous laugh. “No need for you to worry. Bye-bye.”

☁️ watched as Rika hurried down the hallway, throwing her pink satchel back over her shoulder.

“How odd this school is.” ☁️ huffed.

“I really don’t think he would do such a thing.”

Another week had passed since ☁️ and Sunghoon had officially become.. acquainted. As of recently, they’d had eaten lunch, walked around, and traveled to and from school together, daily. It had also been a week since their first run-in with Hoshino, whose glares in the hallways meant he didn’t forget, either. ☁️ felt this time drag- almost as if Sunghoon had bestowed a curse upon ‘em the day they first met. The boy simply seemed to attract both unwanted attention and problems.

Just the day prior, Sunghoon supposedly got one of Hoshino’s posse members kicked out of the school, somehow. Despite not being involved in the situation, ☁️ had been on the receiving end of stares and gossip ever since. The story told didn’t make much sense, and ☁️ didn’t want to ask Sunghoon about it just yet.

“Why not? Everyone knows about the rising tensions between him and Hoshino. It would make sense for him to snitch.” One of the girls in ☁️’s class whispered back as they awaited the arrival of their teacher. “I heard he manipulated a few teachers into searching the boy’s belongings. Apparently, they found knives and even gun.”

☁️ looked around the room, and then back at the girl as she continued.

“I don’t know if it’s true, but I heard that Hoshino has been planning on getting him back. I’m sure you could guess what’ll happen.”

The girl leaned back into her seat, raising her eyebrows.

“Is there anything else you can give me?” ☁️ whispered, despite knowing that this information was all that she’d provide for today.

“Even if I wanted to give you more, I can’t. That’s really all I got.”

“How much do I owe you?”

“Just $5. I’ll give you a discount so that I don’t end up on Sunghoon’s naughty list. People are saying that he’ll become the next Hoshino.. I’m not sure why you spend so much time with him in honestly.”

Grabbing a few dollars bills, ☁️ quickly slid the money to the girl from a back-pocket.

“A pleasure doing business with ‘ya.”

—

“It’s unnecessary to worry about what other people say, ☁️.” Sunghoon muttered, rolling his eyes. The two sat across from each other at lunch, as they usually do.

“But accusations can have consequences. Especially since it’s involving Hoshino.”

Sunghoon put his fork down and looked up to ☁️ with a blank expression. The boy then glanced around, quickly.

“Would you like to skip next period with me? I have an errand that I have to run.”

“Not really. I’m assuming, since you asked, that you’ll need help. Right?”

“Perceptive. I’m thoroughly impressed.”

☁️ frowned. “What is it?”

“I just need to pay a teacher a visit. Just keep lookout for me.”

“Tell me what you’ll be doing, Hoonie.”

“I told you that I hate that nickname.”

☁️ shrugged, as if saying “I don’t care.” Sunghoon continued.

“It’s just to talk about Hoshino. It’ll be quick.”

“Hm.. fine. Please be quick, though.”

“Aw, that’s truly so sweet of you. Thanks for always being there for me, ☁️.”

☁️ rolled his eyes, ignoring Sunghoon’s superficial praise. Standing up suddenly, the boy motioned ☁️ to follow him.

“Let’s just leave lunch early.”

—

☁️ stood beside Sunghoon upon arriving to a classroom on the highest floor. After the boy knocked on the door, a younger-looking teacher slid it open slightly, him holding a few textbooks.

“Hey, can I help you two?”

“Yes, we’ve spoken a few days ago. Do you have a moment?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember speaking to you, and I’m a bit busy with grading. Could you two come b-“

“No, I’m sorry. You actually do have a moment.” Sunghoon pushed the door open, making the man stumble back and drop his books.

“The hell are you doing?” ☁️ muttered, grabbing Sunghoon’s arm. Sunghoon approached the teacher, shoving ☁️’s hand off of him as he walked towards the man. Picking his books up while squatting on the floor, the teacher looked up to Sunghoon, who towered over him. ☁️ was taken aback as he watched Sunghoon bent down as well. He placed a hand on the man’s shoulder, whispering to him.

“Be the lookout, ☁️.” Sunghoon instructed, not taking his eyes off of the teacher. In disbelief, ☁️ took a step back and walked out of the door, closing it so that it was barely open ajar.

Sunghoon walked back out a few minutes later, a cellphone and tan folder in hand. The boy tossed an object on the floor as ☁️ took a peak behind him, seeing the teacher slouched over a desk. Noticing ☁️’s gaze, Sunghoon closed the door lightly.

“He’s fine, just resting for another minute. We should go before he wakes up.”

“You didn’t hurt him, right?”

“Of course not. I needed his help.”

☁️ looked around, seeing that the hallway was empty as the two begun down it.

“So, why didn’t he remember you?”

“I manipulated him into helping me before. That’s probably why he didn’t recall our previous meetings.”

“What do you mean manipulate?”

“Why’re you grilling me?”

“Because I don’t understand what’s going on. This is too much, Sunghoon.”

“You’ll know when it happens, just like everyone else.”

The two descended down the staircase in silence, ☁️ still not satisfied with the lack of information.

“We’re only a few minutes late to archery class. See? I told you that it wouldn’t be long.”

☁️ nodded.

“Anyway, I suspect Rika to be around here somewhere, don’t say anything else about it.” Sunghoon whispered, leaning into ☁️’s ear.

“Sunghoon!” Rika called out from behind them, as if on que. She hurried over to them from down the hallway, holding a plastic bag in hand. Still missing a bow, Rika looked ☁️ up and down with a dismissive look. “You had something for me?”

Sunghoon took the bag she held and placed the tan file and phone inside of it.

“That’s all. You’ll have it back tomorrow.”

Rika nodded and smiled, continuing down the hallway as if the conversation had never happened.

“What was the point of getting that file if you were just going to give it to her?” ☁️ asked, watching Rika disappear in the distance. The two continued, walking slowly as they conversed.

“I already read it. And I don’t want that teacher suspecting me of taking it.”

“Why wouldn’t he remember you being in there?”

“I manipulated him, remember?”

☁️ face palmed. “You don’t have powers, Hoonie. You’re gonna get us in a lot of trouble.”

“Yes I do. I’m special, remember?”

“I really hope narcissism isn’t clouding your judgment.” ☁️ sighed.

Sunghoon stopped walking, seemingly offended. “Nothing could cloud my judgment.”

“That’s something a narcissist would say.”

—

Sunghoon stepped in front of ☁️, opening the gymnasium doors and gesturing forward.

“Thank you.” ☁️ muttered, catching the teacher’s glare as they stepped inside. The teacher was older- probably in his 50’s. ☁️ watched as the man hurried to the two of them with compound bows under his arms.

“Since you two decided to show up, help me gather the rest of the materials.” The man said, motioning the two to follow him into the equipment room. “You, grab the box of arrows since it’s heavy.” He said, pointing at Sunghoon. He then pointed to ☁️ before gesturing toward additional compound bows. “You can put the last two bows on the rack out there, follow me back please.”

The three walked back to the group of students who waited in the middle of the gymnasium floor.

“Alright everyone! Split into two groups of eight.” The teacher instructed.

“Make sure we aren’t in Hoshino’s group.” Sunghoon muttered, pulling ☁️ away from the crowd of students. After a minute, the class was divided.

“This group has nine, one of you go over there.” The teacher said, looking at ☁️. A student awkwardly shuffled over to the other group. “Okay, good. This side is shooting first, and then that side. Grab a bow and an arrow and line up.”

“We’re shooting first.” ☁️ looked over to Sunghoon, who stared intently at the windows on the other side of the room. Patting Sunghoon’s arm, ☁️ knocked the boy out of his daze. “What’s wrong?”

“I thought I saw something outside.” Sunghoon replied, shaking his head. The two followed the group of students over to the rack of bows, grabbing one alongside an arrow. The teacher called out commands, and the students raised their bows. The target in front of them was tall and wide, with three circles of red white and blue. Sitting on the other side of the room with their backs against the window, the other students watched.

“Shoot!”

☁️ released the arrow, though someone else’s collided coincidently with it, causing ☁️’s to fall to the ground. Laughing it off, ☁️ turned to Sunghoon.

“How did you do?”

“I got a bullseye.”

☁️ looked over to the target, seeing a singular arrow in the blue center.

“That’s impressive.” ☁️ muttered, turning to Sunghoon once again. The boy was looking over his shoulder- his gaze fixated on the group of students against the window. “What do you keep looking at?”

“You didn’t see that guy standing outside?”

☁️ looked over, not seeing anybody over the standing students’ heads. “No.”

Sunghoon ran a hand through his hair as the students placed their bows on the ground and took a step away. Sunghoon and ☁️ followed their movements, awaiting the teacher’s directions.

“Okay, second group, it’s your turn.”

About to walk toward the wall alongside the others, Sunghoon gripped at ☁️’s shoulder.

“I’m not going over there until I see that boy again.”

“What if you’re just seeing things?”

“I’m not, I know I saw him.”

“Even if there was a boy, so what? You’d see him better if we go over there.”

“You don’t understand.”

☁️ shrugged, walking away from the bows so that other students could use them. Sunghoon followed, standing diagonally to the second group. Only a few feet to the right of the target, ☁️ caught Hoshino’s gaze and immediately looked away.

The teacher began shouting commands as Sunghoon’s gaze didn’t come off of the window in the distance. The teacher stood behind the engrossed students as he called out, despite not seeing the actual target.

“There he is.” Sunghoon muttered, jogging a few steps forward and walking towards the window. ☁️ looked over to see a tall boy in a black school suit towering behind the students standing against the wall. His mahogany hair blew in the wind as his steady gaze didn’t leave Sunghoon’s. It was an eerie scene, one that filled ☁️ with fear as the stranger peeked into the room.

“Shoot!”

☁️ flinched as droplets of red sprinkled across the face and neck possessed. Pinned against the target, Sunghoon twitched as red trickled down his body. Perceiving the horror a few feet in the distance, ☁️ cupped a hand over the mouth that gasped. The students holding bows cried out or turned around to avoid the scene. Those sitting against the window all stood up, some covering their eyes and some rushing over to get a better look. The man on the other side of the window was no longer present.

“What the hell..” The teacher choked, stepping through the line of students to see Sunghoon impaled by their arrows. With a throat becoming drier by the second, ☁️ walked over to the line of students. Arrows had gone through Sunghoon’s eye, neck, shoulder, stomach, leg, and both sides of his arms. Someone behind ☁️ threw up.

“What the hell did you do..” The teacher croaked again, looking at the students beside ☁️.

“You said to shoot!” One girl cried out.

“He just ran in front of the board. It wasn’t our fault.” Another boy muttered.

☁️ turned to see Hoshino approach Sunghoon’s body- it no longer twitching.

“We’ll just get rid of the body. Guys, help me get him off of this.”

“The hell are you talking about?” One of his mob members shouted, his voice shaky.

“Unless you all wanna go to jail, I suggest you help get rid of the body.” Hoshino shouted back, him then slowly removing each arrow from Sunghoon’s body. A few boys walked beside him, helping the boy set Sunghoon’s lifeless figure onto the floor.

“Someone get the tarp cover from the equipment room.” Hoshino ordered after turning his head, glaring at the crowd that now stood behind him. A girl beside ☁️ nodded and sprinted over to the room.

“Nobody go anywhere! We are not getting rid of anything!” The teacher roared, pushing a few of the boys surrounding Hoshino away from Sunghoon’s body. Hoshino quickly stood up, pulling a switchblade from his back pocket and holding it at the teacher’s neck.

“Either you help us or you suffer the same fate.” Hoshino looked around. “That goes for everyone!”

The girl ran back with a black tarp, unraveling it so that Hoshino’s members could drag Sunghoon onto it.

“What the fuck is happening.” ☁️ whispered to himself, watching as other students began helping to wrap the body.

“This is so fucked up.” A boy beside ☁️ whispered in response.

“There’s a door leading outside in the equipment room, right?” Hoshino asked the teacher, his switchblade still pointed at him. The teacher simply nodded his head.

“Alright, everyone outside! Now!” Hoshino yelled, jogging over to his members. He whispered to them before turning to the crowd of students. Pointing to the tarp, he called out again. “I need a few people to carry this into the mountain.”

Students stepped up and kneeled beside the tarp cover. Lifting it, they began into the equipment room, guided by two of Hoshino’s members. Hoshino stood behind, watching as everyone filed into the room and out the door. ☁️ was the one of the last students to leave, exhaling upon observing the small puddle of blood that dripped down the target and onto the floor.

“Go.” Hoshino said, waving the switchblade at ☁️ as he and the teacher walked passed. ☁️ followed them into the room and out of the metal door, one of Hoshino’s members then closing the door behind them. ☁️ watched as the group walked into the forested area a few feet in the distance, barely trailing behind. Hoshino noticed, him turning around and walking towards ☁️.

“I guess I need to chaperone you.” Hoshino muttered upon gripping ☁️’s arm, the two of them then rushing up the hill and through the forest. They eventually caught up to the group, a fire having been started. Hoshino let go of ☁️ after he stood beside his members.

“We’re going to give everyone a part to hide. If your part gets found, you’re dead. After you hide it, and hide it well, you can go home. Wash your hands and clothes immediately. The teacher and my group will clean the gymnasium- if you’d like to help you can. Everyone understand?” Hoshino shouted, watching as most of the class nodded their heads. He then began unwrapping the body with the help of a few other students. ☁️ had to turn around upon seeing Hoshino’s men begin digging their knives into the boy’s already decomposing body.

A few minutes had passed since the boys had begun severing, and ☁️ remained opposite to them. People began walking away with small parts of Sunghoon in their hands. One with a few fingers and another with his two ears. It made ☁️ want to gag at the sight, but the shock taking over ☁️’s body prevented anything further from happening.

“Hey, ☁️.”

☁️ turned around to see Hoshino standing in the way of what remained of Sunghoon’s body. Avoiding eye contact, ☁️ noticed the organs in the boy’s hands.

“Since you were closest with him, I’m giving you his heart and brain.”

Looking to the right, ☁️ felt Hoshino drop the organs into open hands.

“If it makes you feel better, I was going to do it eventually. Maybe I could make it up to you sometime.” Hoshino sighed, seemingly displeased with the lack of acknowledgment he was receiving. ☁️’s eye twitched in response to his words.

“You could never.”

☁️ turned back around, continuing aimlessly into the forest. Attempting to go back the way the group came to avoid getting lost, ☁️ trudged down the hill they walked up- finding a dirt path. ☁️ walked down it, finding a gorgeous stone bridge. A stream flowed heavily below the structure, though, ☁️ didn’t have the heart to throw the items into it. Instead, ☁️ walked across the bridge and sat in the grass- a foot away from where the water rushed through. It was then that ☁️ noticed the flat surface under the bridge’s abutment, untouched by the roaring water. Walking over to it, the space was only a little shorter than ☁️. With a deep breath, ☁️ kneeled down and climbed onto the stone surface, placing the brain and heart beside each other.

Hoshino’s words replayed in ☁️’s head. Walking back onto the bridge, ☁️ took a few steps forward and rested heavy arms on the cool stone structure. If even Hoshino noticed Sunghoon and ‘em spending a lot of time together, then ☁️ assumed that everyone had noticed, as well. Though, in reality, ☁️ and Sunghoon never really got close. He would only accompany ☁️ at lunch and on the walk home, and even then, their conversations were never in-depth. Still, ☁️ was fearful of what was to come. If someone were to find out, then what would happen? Sunghoon’s family will be looking for him, right? How is Hoshino going to keep everyone quiet? And why would Sunghoon act so carelessly upon seeing that boy? What made him so important?

Lost in the roaring of the waters, ☁️ didn’t notice a boy walk behind ‘em. The boy stopped a few feet away, leaning onto the guardrail and looking out into the distance. Upon glancing over, ☁️ recognized the boy’s mahogany hair. Both shocked and a bit scared, ☁️ took a step back.

“You know,..” The boy began. “..you really shouldn’t worry. He’ll be back.”

The boy turned to ☁️, pushing off of the bridge’s stone guardrail and walking over to ‘em. He held out his lengthy hand, which ☁️ took hesitantly and shook lightly. “My name is Heeseung.”

“☁️…. And what do you mean?”

“Sunghoon. You’ll know when he’s back, and when he is, you better spend that time with him wisely.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You’re not going to. And that’s okay.”

The two sat in silence before Heeseung continued.

“Your school’s going to be a shit show for a while. Try not to die, otherwise there’d be nobody to welcome Sunghoon back.”

“Who are you?” ☁️ growled, taking another step back.

“Who was Sunghoon?” Heeseung replied, his voice just as monotonous as Sunghoon’s was.

☁️ remained silent, unsure of how to respond. Thinking about it.. they were something like friends, and ☁️ considered Sunghoon to be.. many things. ☁️’s crush amongst those many things.

“I’ll be around when you find out. Good luck.”

Heeseung strolled backwards as he and ☁️ kept gazes on each-other, him eventually turning around and continuing across the bridge. ☁️ watched his figure become smaller as he walked up the hill, fading behind the trees.

It seemed that people had become lost in their flawed tendencies since the new student’s arrival; His enigmatic spirit and flawless features made him impossible to miss- enchanting students and teachers alike. Uncanny in many ways, the boy’s name was Sunghoon, and even in his death, his curse remained potent.

a/n: i have a part 2 ready but let’s see how this does ! writing gn is also different and a bit challenging- next time I’ll just write saying ‘you’ bc it’s 100x easier. n e ways i hope u liked it, ik it’s different than what i usually write :,) don’t let this flop pls

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[samandcolbyownme]

I saw you asked for a Jared request, so here it is :). Can we get a Jared imagine where the reader has a kid from a previous relationship, and how would they (Jared and kid) get along

Nothing Changes | Jared Bailey

Warnings: i don’t think there’s any.. if there is let me know!

Word Count: 1.1k | unedited

Ｓｉｘ • ｍｏｎｔｈｓ • ａｇｏ

You still couldn’t believe you were here, sitting at a restaurant waiting for this man to show up.

A part of you thought you were being punked, even thought you had countless phone and FaceTime calls to prove that this was actually happening.

You stood up as soon as you seen him walk in.

He walks over to you, a beautiful smile on his face and all you can do is babble about how sorry you are for being so early.

“Hey, hey. I’m actually late..” he looks down at his watch and back up to you, “So, you were actually right on time.”

You both sit down and he can’t help but look at you. You look up at him and you can see his cheeks turning a slight red color as he laughs nervously, “Sorry, you’re just.. you’re so beautiful.”

His words make your heart flutter, “Oh.” You smile, looking down as your own cheeks turn red, “Thank you.”

A little while into the dinner, the question was just getting too much for you not to ask, “So. Can I ask you something?”

He nods, “Of course, what’s up?”

“Are you okay with the fact that I’m a mom?” You were instantly anxious, the look on his face was confusing, “I just.. he’s important to me and if you’re not go-“

“Nothing changes how I feel about you. In fact, I think it’s kind of hot that you’re a mom.” His words caught you off guard, but in a good way, “Oh, wow.” You smirk slightly, “Thank you.”

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t-“ Jared laughs and you reach out, touching his hand with yours, “No, don’t apologize.”

His eyes move from yours hand on his, up to your eyes and you knew he was going to be the one, or so you hoped.

Ｓｉｘ • ｍｏｎｔｈｓ •ｌａｔｅｒ

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

You look up at Jared and you nod, “Only if you are.. I know this.. is a big step, for both of us.”

“I plan on keeping you, and your son, in my life for as long as you’ll allow, okay?” Jared raises his brows and you smile, trying not to tear up at his words as you nod.

He pulls you in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, “I love you, and I know I’m going to love that little boy just as much because he’s a part of you.”

Jared always knew how to calm you down, in more situations than one.

He was your safe place, the person you reopened yourself up to.

You wanted this to work.

“I love you.” You smile as he pulls you in, hugging you tighter as he leans back into the couch, “you’ve got nothing to worry about. I promise.”

You nod against his chest, relaxing into him until you hear the door open. You instantly sit up and look at Jared, “My kid’s home.”

He laughs, standing up to pull you with him, “I’m excited to meet him.”

“Mama!” You turn when you hear little feet running across the floor, growing louder as they get closer, “Mama!”

You turn around, bending down to pick the child up from the floor, “Hi, baby. Did you have a fun time with grandma?”

“Yes!” Mad yells as your mom walks in. She smiles and waves to Jared, “Hi honey.”

“Hello, Kelly. How are you?” Jared smiles and she nods, “can’t complain.” She laughs and you turn towards Jared, “Max, can you say hi to Jared?”

The boy looks up at Jared who’s smiling at him and shyly waves his hand before lunging towards him giggling.

Jared takes him and you watch as you smile, “Do you like him?”

Max laughs and looks at him, smiling when Jared turns his head, “Hi buddy.” Max wraps his arms around his neck and starts pointing when he sees his toys on the floor, “Toys!”

“You wanna show me your toys?” Jared sets max down and Max pulls him over by the finger. Your mom comes up, laying a hand on your shoulder, “I think you just lost your best friend spot.”

You laugh quietly, taking in Jared playing with Max, “I don’t mind. I think, this is going very well.

And it was.

Jared picked up on Max almost instantly. He helped as much as he could, he basically stepped into being a dad without even hesitating, but that’s because he loves you.

Thankfully, you had a few people in your group that you could trust, so you and Jared could go have ‘mommy and daddy date nights’ as Zach says.

You knew it was a lot, being a step dad and all, but Jared always reminded you that if it was too much, he wouldn’t have never agreed to meet your son in the first place.

He also always tells you that he’s glad he did.

——

Flash forward a few months and you’re standing at Max’s birthday party. You take a step back, shaking your head slightly as you take in the completely, and beautifully decorated venue.

“I told you it would be fine.” Y/f/n walks up to you, “If I didn’t know the situation, you’d think Max was actually Jared’s.”

You smile, shaking your head, “I don’t know what I was so afraid of.” You turn your head as you see Max running up to you, Jared following behind, “I’m four!”

You nod your head, looking between Jared and your friend, “You are four, honey! Good job!” You give max a hug and set him down so he can run and play with the other kids.

Your friend gives you a smirk before she walks away. You turn to Jared and you shake your head, “You didn’t have to do all of this.”

He cups your cheeks, “I know I didn’t have to, baby..” He plants a kiss to your lips, an arm wrapping around your waist, “I wanted to.”

You smile and pull him back in, “Thank you.” Your lips meet his and he smiles, “C’mon. Let’s go get you a dinosaur hat.”

——

I hope you liked this. I deleted it and rewrote it like three times. So I’m hoping third time’s the charm. Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading, I love you so much!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[justfandomwritings]

An essay on why I won’t be watching next season.

1. Obviously actors have to promote their shows and hype them up. But the interactions between Nicola and Luke during the press tour were, in retrospect, clearly also acting performances, and it is rare to see acting within the press tour to the degree that those two put on while grossly exaggerating things like how sexy this season would be or how much Polin we would get. I don’t blame them. It’s clearly what they were told to do. And it’s fine to hype a show, but I think a lot of people felt genuinely lied to with the WAY this season was hyped.

2. The casting has been color conscious and inclusive in a way I greatly admire. But they have not been inclusive in other ways. And that’s not to say they should have to be. One show shouldn’t bear the responsibility of being inclusive to everyone and making up for an industries worth of exclusion. But we have exactly one size inclusive character in this whole show, and I’m not even demanding more, but to butcher the season of the only size inclusive person in this show this badly and in these ways sends me a clear message of what the writers thought they could get away with with a curvy actress and how they saw her.

3. The wait times for this season and next season are just too long. The hype dies down too much between seasons such that we care less and less each time we get a new one, especially when you only give eight episodes, regardless of their length. You know who also gave us a season in 2022 and then an eight episode season this year? house of the dragon. And they have to CGI a fuck ton of dragons. Yall were sitting on this season being done filming for over a year and for what? What did you do in post? A bee? And then to have the audacity to do it in two parts? Fuck off.

4. Add to that. The costumes and new sets looked so much cheaper this season than previous seasons. Where did the budget go.

5. The plot is too crowded. Maybe you thought a curvy girl couldn’t carry a season. Maybe it was bad writing. Obviously you needed Cressida and Eloise to have decent amounts of screen time but you also did half of Francesca’s story and set one up for Violet and Benedict that collectively took the majority of the screen time and left us with very little Pen and Colin. Which was a disservice you never gave Anthony or Daphne’s seasons and was why they were good. We got enough crumbs of the others to tell us what was happening but not enough to make them feel like main characters or to make it feel like an ensemble show. There were leads in season 1 and 2. This season it was an ensemble with too many moving parts. But everyone’s said that. It’s not surprising.

6. My biggest problem is the tone. The blame. Admittedly I’m a woman who relates strongly to Penelope so I’m not impartial here. But for a character who spends her entire life being abused by every single person in this show, who is pushed to her absolute breaking point before finally giving her mother and the tonne a taste of their own medicine. For that character to receive no grace, no understanding, no respect, for the vast majority of the season hurt. To not only have zero understanding of her situation but to frame the entire plot of the show around the fact that SHE alone should be sorry. To have minimal to no groveling from Colin over what he said last season, to have no acknowledgment of how he treated her as a safety net, to humanize Cressida who made her life hell with minimal acknowledgment of that fact, to have Eloise get ONE comment from Cressida of all people about her friendship with Penelope but no real reflection from Eloise or acknowledgment on her part or apologies for what a truly SHIT friend she was for DECADES. That hurt. Because the message is that sure, they can push you to your fucking limit, you can break after years of being bullied for your weight and your looks and your status. Your own mother and sisters hands can be filthy with insults and abuse. Your friends can treat you like utter garbage for years. They can befriend your bullies. Your soon to be husband can, very recently, insult you to his friends behind your back. But you owe them the apology for breaking after years of abuse. It’s not that the tonne couldn’t be angry or that they all should’ve fallen at Pen’s feet. It’s that those arguments never happen at all because once again, just like when she was being used and abused by everyone, everything was put on Penelope. And the cycle continues.

7. Colin should’ve groveled more. I know I said that in the previous point but it really ruined things for me so I want to emphasize it. I wanted that man on his knees the whole season, and I should’ve known I wasn’t gonna get that when y’all dropped the list of songs and there wasn’t any of the A List Yearners on the list. But I’m still mad.

8. Actually that’s a good point. Did anyone else think the songs didn’t go as hard this year? Except Pitbull were we excited about any of them?

9. You did the Pride and Prejudice ballroom trick with the dancing alone thing and you didn’t nail it. If you’re gonna do that trick it has to fucking HIT. (And it has to be enemies to lovers.) And you did it half assed. You should be ashamed.

10. There was a two second window there when Cressida asked the maid for help where I thought they were gonna swap lives and the maid would go with her aunt and Cressida would become a maid and I was like “holy fuck is Cressida gonna become Bennys love interest?” and that would’ve been better than what y’all did I think. And it would’ve justified her excessive screen time.

11. I love gender swapping Michaela and making Francesca bi. We love it. But why was Francesca immediately interested. Once again the writers don’t understand pining. Michaela is PINING for Francesca and can do nothing but love her from afar. Francesca loved John completely and whole heartedly. Michaela was a beautiful love story for her but was also a second chance. She loved John completely. She would never have an emotional affair on him. How did you immediately ruin such a beautiful second chance romance?

12. Where was Pen’s friendship with Anthony or Lady Danbury? Why wasn’t Colin proud of Pen the way he was in the book? To make her even more alone? To emphasize that she was alone and at fault and helpless? Fuck off.

I just don’t have it in me to watch this show deteriorate further.

[chobani-flip]

rec list of awesome bucktommy fics #1 of ∞

ok. so here's some fics ive read that i loved and i need everyone to read and love as well. more such lists to follow over the summer

Like a Music That's Been Transposed by @faillen

“Hey there, stunner,” Tommy murmured against his mouth once they’d pulled away. “Stunner?” Evan asked, smile bunching up his cheeks. “That’s a new one.” “Mhmm,” Tommy said, pressing a kiss to one of those lovely red cheeks. “You like it?” Evan ducked his head, “Yeah, that one’s uh. That’s pretty good.” His eyes cut back to Tommy and his mouth twisted into a thoughtful moue. “I don’t really have any for you.” “Eh,” Tommy said. “I’m not a big endearment guy.”

Or: Tommy grows into his name.

it is so good, you guys. such an excellent tommy character study.

The Machinery of the Body by @firehose118

Tommy takes one look at the wonderstruck expression on Evan's face after Tommy kisses him that first time and he knows he wants to take Evan apart under his hands like an engine and make him purr. He wants to slowly and carefully clean every rusty bolt Evan never knew he had and put him back together better than he found him.

it is horny and tender. they just care about one another so much 😭😭😭

the skin that binds you by @tiltingheartand

He must make a noise of some kind, because a second later he feels a hand very carefully combing through his curls. Too carefully, actually, although it does feel kind of amazing anyway. “Feeling okay, baby?” Well, good news: at least hearing Tommy’s voice doesn’t make anything worse. “Not really,” he manages, once he unsticks his lips from each other, refusing to move from where he’s got half his face pressed into Tommy’s neck. “Feel like death.” “That’s not as funny as you think it is,” Tommy says, but he’s hugging Buck around the shoulders while he says it. (Buck wakes up with a migraine. Tommy takes care of him.)

they are so good for each other and to each other 😭😭😭

Couched In Metaphor by @alchemistc

BUCK AND TOMMY GO COUCH SHOPPING! THERE'S ALSO EDDIE AND HE IS A GOOD FRIEND! the couch is a metaphor but it's also just a couch and buck and tommy are written so excellently here. i ADORE the way this author sees them and writes them

Your Midnights by Summerunderthesea

He still hadn’t been able to find his footing with Tommy. To find his cool, or to even be able to fake it so that he at least came across as somewhat smooth. At least a bit less of an idiot. So idiodic, non-cool, non-smooth Buck replied with an ‘uhh’. Then, eventually, ‘Yeah. A bit.’ --- A collection of midnights that Buck and Tommy spend together.

a progression of buck and tommy's relationship. so niiiiice.

while you arranged flowers by @newtkelly

Tommy’s eyes catch his and Buck is taken aback by the state of them, blown so black and glassy. He always looks so tongue-in-cheek, like he’s in on some joke and waiting for everyone else to catch on. He doesn’t look like that right now, though. Tommy’s composure is waning—the guy who takes on the world with a million dollar smile and a statuesque cleft chin and flies choppers to Vegas on a whim and into Cat 5 hurricanes to help old friends and kisses clarity into men who thought they were finished figuring themselves out, that guy is just as much a slave to his desire as any mortal man, and Buck is winded by the fact that he’s played any part in that. — Buck’s got a wedding date, but as far as today goes, he’s also got a regular one.

you might have seen the post where i shrieked about another fic of newtkelly, well read this one too. the way they write is so thoughtful and skilled???? shoo, go read!

little by little by @mediawhorefics

a madney wedding coda. it is brilliant. it is beautiful. AND ALSO, the author has an excellent taste in user names. GO READ MEDIA WHORE'S FICS! i shout in the marketplace and i am well heard by all.

Come Fly The Friendly Skies by @rcmclachlan

have you tried to imagine how the initial introductions between buck and tommy during the choppernapping went? no? yes? well, i guarantee you that this brilliant HILARIOUS piece of writing is going to surpass your greatest expectations.

allow me to quote one of my favourite lines at you: "We know you have many options when choosing airlines, so thank you for choosing Kinard Air. Let's begin the boarding process."

yeah, i know if tommy was any cooler of a cucumber that salad would be frozen! isn't it wonderful?!

im also gonna need you to read

@middyblue 's AU where buck works as a Scientist alongside karen and meets tommy when the lab blows up.

THIS IS THE SERIES HERE!!!! THERE ARE TWO FICS (SO FAR) WHOLE TWO FICS!!!!!!! AND IT IS BRILLIANT AND I LOVE IT!!!

Buck's clipboardy-ness is directed towards science! tommy is absolutely turnouts over helmet into him!!!!

ALSO! ALSO!

these are the fics that i keep seeing on rec lists (but that's because they're really fucking good and if you haven't read them yet, do yourself the favour of getting right on that.)

my heart's an autoclave. by @bucktheally

an outlier that should not be counted by @dadvans

prescribed burn by @wakeupnew

you know what actually? all of the authors above? (and any others i mention in the future?) go do the following:

click on subscribe ON THE AUTHOR'S PROFILE

[owardsgirl]

Lucky

Part 1🍀

Warnings : mentions of cheating, Megan moroney face claim, some slander of another driver

Pairing : Oscar piastri x singer! Reader

“I can’t fucking believe you Pierre!”

“Yn look I really didn’t mean too”

“You didn’t mean too cheat yeah okay” I yell tears falling down my face “you know what get you’re stuff and get the fuck out I can’t believe I ever trusted you on the road”

“Yn look we can figure this out” Pierre says crying at something he created.

“Nope get out”

And he does and the minute he leaves I start bawling

I can’t be alone right now

I pick up my phone to call Oscar

“Hey yn what’s up it’s 12am?”

“Can you come over please I need you” I say through sniffs

“Yeah I’ll be there in like 10 minutes”

——————

I lay there on the couch crying into Oscar’s arms

“Yn it’ll be okay he wasn’t worth your time anyways he was a dick and a pretty girl like you doesn’t deserve this”Oscar says rubbing circles on my back

“And you know what this gives you something to write an album about” Oscar says trying to cheer me up

“You know what you’re right” I say getting up

I come back to the living room with paper and a my guitar

—————

It’s about 3 hours later and we have 2 songs done im making a whole album about this plus a love song for Oscar that he won’t know is about him but I’ll know it’s about him.

—————

It was about a week after the whole Pierre situation and I’m pretty much over it

Me and Oscar were on our way to the studio to record my last songs that’s when I got a notification.

Pierre’s new girlfriend liked a post of my

I clicked to see which one it was and it was a photo from 2016 which sparked a new song.

————

“Oscar what song do I name the album from?”

“Umm? Lucky!” He says with a big smile “that one is my favorite”

“Alright perfect!!”

————

Liked by Taylor nation and 23,560 others

Ynln : new album July 4th🤍🍀

Oscarpiastri : I picked the album name!!!

Ynln : yes and you did a great job 🫶🏻

Username: Oscar and yn flirting in the comments!?

Taylornation : collab of the century!🤍

Username : Pierre is over for

Logansargeant : oh yeah!🍀

LewisHamilton : why am I not on the album?? Jk 🤣 i know this is gonna be so good

Ynln : you type like a dad

————

I was singing some cd inserts for my new album and I got a call from Oscar

“Yn I have to tell you something”

“Okay?” I say worried

“I love you like I have feelings for you and I was curious do you wanna go on a date”

I was shocked.

“Oscar i’d love too how about next week since I’m busy with album stuff this week.”

“That’s perfect!!”

————

My album debuted and hit 1 on top 100 billboards within one day and so did every song.

“Yn I’m so happy for you!” Oscar said “I can’t believe this!”

“I’m so happy too I’d never thought this would happen”

———

Me and Oscar went on three dates and on the third one he asked me to be his girlfriend and I obviously said yes!

I was now on tour for my album and tonight was the first show that Oscar could go to

“I’m so excited to see you perform” Oscar said through the phone

We were on FaceTime while I was getting hair and make up done

“I’m excited that your here” I say with a big smile

After my show I joined Oscar back stage

“You did so good” he said as I sat down on his lap

“You wanna know a little secret” I say giggling

“Well of course I do”

“Tennessee Orange is about you I was gonna call it McLaren Orange but that doesn’t roll of the tongue very well”

“Papaya” Oscar says laughing

“Shut up” I say kissing his cheek

Liked by ynln and 23,350 other people

Oscarpiastri : waiting to get an album written about me🤍

Ynln : maybe you’ll get on🤔

Oscarpiastri : you know who gets one and I don’t not fair !! (Love you)

Username : why is she homie hopping.

Username : theyre so cute hello??

Landonorris : Instagram official??

Logansargeant : tell yn to give me free tickets

Ynln : I’ll think about it

Username : girl pick a driver.

Username : who’s next Lando??

[sadaveniren]

Do you still think the alycia follow and like won't amount to another full bearding relationship?

Yupppp. I’ve been saying Elounor have been over since… at least August or so. Right after Glastonbury. So my take about Alycia or any other new beard has always taken the idea of Louis being “single” into account.

I actually have said that I think he’s leaning heavier into BG specifically because he won’t have a long term beard. Maybe he’ll randomly get linked with people in the tabloids (can’t stop that and it’s a drawback of being single and famous) but I think (and Louis and his team have said) that Louis is going to be going the full indie route which includes not talking about his personal life at all. To maintain his closet in that scenario, which I think he is going to want to do, having a son is much more effective than trying to maintain a long term beard. Especially because again, I don’t think he’s going to be doing stuff publicly with Freddie in the coming years. I think Louis is going to disappear when he’s not touring/doing promo, or his public sightings will be with his band/Oli/the lads.

Of course I could be wrong! But my thing is, if he still wanted a beard why get a new one? Elounor was insanely easy to maintain, and with Eleanor spending 2022 doing more independent stuff it proved she could be very separated from him and elounor fans were still completely satisfied. The hecticness of a new beard - especially going to someone who fandom knows was the other choice to Danielle - would be… hilarious honestly. But ultimately unnecessary especially considering what has been said by Louis and his team about Louis’ plans for his public life.

[chirpsythismorning]

S5 opener REAL

[janamensch]

This is what Ophelia looked like at the end of that fight. to me.

[katabay]

I'm sure that there s a perfectly good reason, but it's just really funny to me that Pompeyo has beef with a teenager (Marcus). What a way to NOT copy Sulla

lmaoo yeah

honestly, it’s very one sided: Pompeyo is trying so hard to get along with Marcus and it’s just not clicking because Marcus distrusts him for being a (former) political ally of Felix.

like, from Marcus' point of view, Pompeyo let Felix fuck Crasso over for his own gain, and fully expects Pompeyo to behave exactly like Felix once Pompeyo fully realigns himself with Crasso. Marcus really only acts civil to Pompeyo because of Publius (who. god. he needs a new name so bad. Paolo? Paris? I might give up trying to pick a name that begins with P and just name him Celestino or something, tbh), and even then. the civility is debatable.

later tho! it takes two events that happen several years apart from each other, but they do come to an Understanding. Pompeyo is actually totally unaware of the moment that Marcus decides that Pompeyo is part of the family.

Marcus still gives Pompeyo a lot of shit, but it's no longer actively hostile. just regular, garden variety fucking around (affectionate) and making Pompeyo's life a little bit difficult on purpose because it's kind of funny.

[kirisclangen]

Larchpaw

She/her, 8 moons, cis molly

[throwawayasoiafaccount]

god tywin lannister deserved worse

just remembering elias death and i wanna puke and the way tywin talks about elia and what happened is so damn gross

but rip tommen and myrcella we all know what’s about to happen in the next book :/

the cycle of violence just keeps spinning and damn you tywin for beginning it

(i got a bit crazy in the tags 💀)