#BECAUSE YOU PUT IT IN BEFORE THE WATER WAS AT A FULL BOIL YOU FOOLS

[fkinavocado]

Warnings: 18+, smut, subrry, unprotected sex, friends to lovers

Word count: 7.5k

Pretty like yours

Your eyes were glued to those slutty yellow shorts. You just couldn’t force them to look away. Trusting that your sunglasses would conceal your ogling, you were facing the shoreline- thankfully women had good peripheral vision so you could get away with it. 

But damn, was he hot. Hotter than the scorching sun, setting you afire more than the offending rays. You’d taken a time out from their volleyball game to go reapply sunscreen, but you weren’t sure you even wanted to go back. You had a much better view from where you were sat on the beach lounger. You couldn’t really focus on eyefucking him while you were playing, well, not without making a fool of yourself. And you couldn’t have that.

Not now that Harry was finally single.

God, you’d waited ages for him to finally be back on the market. You’d had the fattest crush on him ever since you met, ever since this whole group of friends from uni had formed, and it’d been absolute torture spending so much time with him knowing you couldn’t put the moves on him.

Not that morals had gotten in your way, no. You would’ve gladly set caution to the wind for Harry, but you just knew you wouldn’t have stood a chance. He’d been a lovesick puppy, to the point where it was actually quite sickening; to the point where your friends had to ask him not to bring his girlfriend along anymore when you all went out together because they were just too sickeningly in love. (You may or may not have been one of said friends). His ex wasn’t part of the group, not attending your university, and so was considered an “outsider”, and none of you ever brought your partners along when you all hung out, so Harry had only ever brought her to parties from then on. Parties you tended to avoid, as you weren’t exactly a huge fan out seeing them make out and get all handsy with each other, more so than they already were, especially a few drinks in.

You took a sip of water that was beginning to get way too warm and then got back to ogling him, planning your attack. You couldn’t help but smile at how he kept trying to move his hair out of his face, the breeze making it difficult for him to actually focus on the game. He’d let it grow out and now it was shoulder length. It made him unbearably hotter (which you wouldn’t have thought possible).

You were snapped out your reverie when you saw Harry wave at you, a smile on his face. You were momentarily taken aback to see him smile, he’d been sulking for the majority of the weekend trip to the beach, so initially you didn’t even realise he was waving at you.

But when he walked away from the group and started heading towards the beach loungers you knew you’d been caught staring. You’d seemingly forgotten to pretend you weren’t looking in that direction after having had some water.

Well, since you’d been caught you didn’t bother looking away as he walked over. At least he couldn’t see the way your eyes scanned him head to toe ever so slowly behind your glasses, taking in every bit of that tan skin, well defined muscles, tattoos on full display, and those offending itty bitty yellow shorts that did nothing to conceal the bulge he was sporting.

He sat down on the chaise next to yours and grabbed the water bottle, grimacing after taking a large gulp. “This is boiling at this point… Hey, you never got back; kinda hard to play a fair game with uneven team players.”

“Eh, wasn’t really feeling it.”

“Did you need help?”

“Hm?”

He looked down your body and you tried not to dwell on how his eyes seemed to have lingered for a tad longer on your boobs before travelling back up to meet your eyes “You said you’d take a time out to apply sunscreen; did you?”

Even you had forgotten you’d used that as an excuse to extricate yourself from the game. “Oh. Hadn’t gotten to it yet, was just… you know, catching my breath for a moment.”

“For a moment.” He flashed his dimpled smile at you, and you forced yourself not to furrow your brows. Was he onto you, had you really been that obvious?

Before you could clear the air, he reached for the bags and fished out the SPF. “Scoot forward, I’ll do your back.”

You did as instructed and felt Harry sit behind you, his thick, muscly thighs on either side of yours with how close behind he was sitting, and then felt him gently sweep your hair over your shoulders and to the front. “The waves look really good on you.”

You were glad he couldn’t see you blushing. It’s not that Harry hadn’t complimented you before, he was very considerate and nice overall- with all of your friends. But you couldn’t help but hope that maybe now that he was single he might start to see you in a different light.

“Thanks. It’s from how I kept it in braids.”

You felt him smooth his big palms over your back after you’d heard him massage the lotion in between them for a while to ensure it wouldn’t be too cold, although you’d have probably welcomed the sensation with how hot it was.

“It’s almost as curly as mine now.”

You tried your best not to make any embarrassing noises with how good it felt to have him massage the lotion into your skin. He moved his hands slowly but deliberately, working the SPF into your skin. It felt heavenly.

“Well, not quite,” you smiled. “Yours grew out so much, H. I was actually admiring it when you walked back here, it really suits you. Though it seemed to be a pain playing volleyball, you should tie it up to keep it out of your face now that it’s long enough.”

“Thanks…” you could hear the coy smile in his voice. You couldn’t understand how this man could grow shy when this whole beach had been eyefucking him since you’d gotten there, and the others hadn’t been nearly as stealthy about it as you’d been.

“Want me to braid it for you?”

Harry’s hands stilled on either side of your waist, squeezing the plush skin there. “Oh? Do you think it’s long enough…?”

You turned to look at him over your shoulder, pretending to assess the length, but really, you just lingered on his lips the most. He was so close. And his lips were so kissable. They had this really pretty, dusty rose hue to them, something men shouldn’t be endowed with to begin with. You had to layer on a number of lip products to get yours to look this good. 

“Yeah. Hop on the sand in front of the chaise and I’ll do it right now if you want.”

You watched those perfect lips stretch into a beautiful smile, his dimples making an appearance as well and stealing your attention for a bit. “Yeah? Ok!” He stood up and did as instructed sitting between your legs now, as you scooted even closer to the edge of the seat. “Wait, don’t forget to put on lotion first.”

“No, I’ll just get my hands all oily, I don’t wanna mess up your hair. I’ll do it after.”

“I’ve never had it braided before.” You could hear the enthusiasm in his voice. “Think it’ll look pretty like yours?”

You bit back your smile, trying to focus on the task at hand. You ran your fingers through his curls first, trying your very best to detangle the hair without pulling at the strands at all. His hair was very soft to the touch, even with how much you’d all been swimming since you’d gotten there. “Prettier. Your hair’s so soft. What’s your secret, hm? Mine is already so stiff with all the salty seawater, but I guess it helped with the waves since I let it dry braided, so I can’t complain.”

Harry didn’t reply. His head was hung back as he rested against the edge of the chaise, and he even let out a breathy moan when you used your nails a bit to separate the strands one from another. “Oh, you like this, don’t you?” you teased.

“I might need you to do this everyday, feels amazin’.”

You softly chuckled and began braiding, making sure to keep his hair taught, pulling on it a bit to get the desired effect, but Harry seemed to really enjoy it. His mouth fell agape and his eyes were closed and you took your sweet time with each braid, savouring the experience as much as he was.

“You deserve it, H… You know, I’m glad you came along this weekend, was afraid you’d skip again. We missed you.”

He fluttered his eyes open at that, and ran his hands up and down his thighs absentmindedly, his knees bent to his chest. Those meaty thighs had made a guest appearance in your dreams more than once, and you eyed his tiger tattoo smiling to yourself remembering one of your more recent fantasies about it. You willed your mind out of the gutter, though.

“You know you can talk about it, if you want, right? I’m here.” You spoke softly, coaxing him to open up to you. Not only to get closer to him, but you were genuinely worried for him. The others loved to tease him about it, but you could tell he was frustrated with how he probably couldn’t confide in any of them, lest he be teased even more for it.

He nodded, careful not to move his head too much and accidentally ruin your handiwork. 

“I can tell you’re heartbroken. Just… want you to be happy.” You finished braiding, tying his hair using the same elastics you’d taken out of your own hair, and leaned forward to kiss his cheek, then circled your arms around his shoulders, hugging him from behind.

He reached to grab one of your hands in his and squeezed it as he leaned his temple against yours. “I’ll be alright… eventually. Right?”

His voice was so small and dejected that it made your own heart break a little. He was hurting more than he was letting on. You knew he’d been with his ex for almost 2 years, and although you hadn’t had such a long relationship yourself, you knew it couldn’t have been easy. You’d also never been in love, so you couldn’t even imagine what he was going through. You didn’t know why they’d broken up, but you had a feeling his ex had been the one to break his heart, not the other way around.

“Of course, H. You’ll be fine. I promise. Don’t you trust me?” You mumbled against his ear reassuringly.

“I do.”

“It’s ok to be sad. But you’ll soon be happy again, happier even. Because you don’t need someone who doesn’t appreciate you, yeah? You’re such a great guy, and anyone who doesn’t see that doesn’t deserve you. I promise you’ll find someone who’ll make you forget about her altogether.”

Harry sighed heavily. You weren't even sure he’d listened to any of what you’d told him. He interlocked your fingers and brought your conjoined hands lower, pressing them to his chest, against his heart. “Think it’s ever gonna beat right again?”

You chuckled at how corny he was “Yes, you big ol’ softie, you. Someone will take all the broken pieces and carefully glue them right back together and it’ll be as good as new in no time. Better even, like kintsugi.” He turned his head to look at you confusedly and you explained, “you know, the japanese art of glueing back broken objects with gold.”

You pulled back, grabbed the lotion and stood up. Squirted some into your palms and started massaging it all over your torso. Harry looked up at you and shielded his eyes, and you moved one of your feet between his legs so you’d block the sun from getting into his eyes. “Wanna go for a swim, now that you’re all fit to brave the waves with your new braids?”

Harry smoothed his palm gently over his hair, feeling for the braids, almost as though he’d forgotten all about them. He watched you intently as you rubbed the lotion into your skin, bent at the waist to reach your thighs and now your calves, and when you stood back upright you could’ve sworn his eyes had been glued to your cleavage. Which, in all fairness, you’d hung your tits right in his face- you’d have found it weird if he hadn’t. Heartbroken or not, he was still a man. And you looked good in that bikini, if you did say so yourself.

And he looked good with his hair braided like that, too. There was just something about Harry that made him look hot no matter what, he didn’t even have to look too manly. In fact, that was one of the things you’d always loved about him. He wasn’t afraid to show off his feminine side. He was a pretty boy as much as he was a handsome man. He just knew how to flaunt both sides in equal measure and that made him all that more attractive in your eyes.

You were once more snapped out of your train of thought when you felt his nimble fingers on your ankle, he was touching your ankle bracelet, fidgeting its trinkets. He then wrapped his hand around the ankle and slowly looked back up at you. “No, you go. I’ll head back to the hotel for a bit.”

He then removed his hand and you took a step back to allow him to stand, now towering over you and you wondered whether you’d pushed it a bit too far. He looked… slightly annoyed, and visibly saddened. That frown line erased all his sweet, feminine features and you wished you could just smooth it out, running your fingers over it and caressing all over his face, much like you did with his hair. You almost did so, when he took a step back and then turned towards the hotel that was right across the private beach, a small walk away. 

You let out a breathy sigh. You’d probably been a bit too nosey, he was likely not ready to hear all that yet. He’d just broken up with his ex, and he was allowed to feel sorry for himself and still miss her. 

You got into the water knee-deep, contemplating all this, when you realized you’d used your hairties on Harry, and you really didn’t feel like getting your hair all wet again. Not now that, without the braids, it’d just dry down all wonky and you wanted to keep the waves. Especially with how Harry had complimented you.

With a huff, you walked back to shore and everyone was back at your spot, drinking water and making plans for early dinner. They were contemplating going to a spot by the pier so they wouldn’t have to bother getting dressed, but you opted out. The way Harry had left all dejected didn’t sit right with you, and you feared you’d crossed a line and upset him with what you’d said. You wanted to go make sure he was ok.

“You guys go along, not feeling very hungry. Catch you later.”

“Where’s Harry?”

“I texted him and he didn’t get back to me. Y/N, mind dropping by our room and see if he wants to grab dinner with us? He’ll be even grumpier if he finds out he missed out ‘cause he’s been too busy sulking over Marrisa.”

Sarah elbowed Mitch, “Hey. Come on guys, quit teasing him. He’s clearly very upset over this, and this trip was supposed to help him take his mind off things. Your constant nagging is just making matters worse.”

Mitch rolled his eyes, “It’s been over a month, how long is he gonna moan about it? So what, she cheated on him- life goes on! He needs to get out there and have some fun and put this all behind him.”

Sarah narrowed her eyes at him, and you knew Mitch was in for it. They thought they were being sneaky, but everyone knew they were getting cosy with each other as of late. It was still early days, you could tell, but Mitch might have just dug his grave with this one.

“Yeah, I’ll drop by your room and ask him, he’s probably napping though so I won’t wake him up if that’s the case.”

“I mean… if he’s grumpy we didn’t wake him up for dinner, it’s on you.”

“No pressure,” you gulped audibly for dramatic effect and began walking back to the hotel. You really hoped he wasn’t, in fact, napping, and not just for everyone’s sake. You wanted to clear the air a bit and apologise if you’d struck a chord earlier. 

You were just about to knock when you heard something on the other side of his hotel room. You decided to stick your ear against the door and make sure you weren’t hearing things before actually knocking, and there it was again, only this time, louder. Clearer.

Was he unwell? 

Maybe it was sun poisoning. You felt bad to just walk away without offering to help. So you decided to knock on the door softly. “Harry?”

After a long pause that had you convinced he hadn’t heard you and ready to knock again, you heard him. “...Yes?”

“Are you alright in there?… Can I help? Do you need anything?”

Silence. 

You were starting to grow worried, why wasn’t he answering right away if he could hear you?

“I… I think I do, yeah.”

“What is it? Tell me. You’re worrying me.”

You heard him fumble around a bit and could tell he was getting up from bed and finally, finally, he opened the door the tiniest bit, his body behind it. He looked flushed and a bit sweaty. 

When he wouldn’t speak, his eyes downcast, you reached out to touch his forehead. “You’re warm, what’s the matter? Is it sun poisoning? Or were you having a bad dream? It sounded like you were in pain. Came to check if you wanted to join the guys for dinner.”

“They’re out at dinner?”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t wanna go?”

You huffed at his avoidency. “Well can I come in, or are we gonna keep talking in the doorway? Wanted to talk to you, anyway.”

He cleared his throat and stepped back, making room for you to step inside and closed the door behind you, locking it. You raised an eyebrow at the sound, turned around and noticed he was holding the bedsheet tightly around his waist.

“What did you wanna talk about?”

“Yeah, uhm… Earlier, I got the vibe that I might have upset you… with what I said, about Marissa. I know it’s shitty to hear bad stuff about your ex soon after the break-up, like, it never really sits right even if it’s true and even if the person meant well saying those things, to help you move on… I know it’s not how it works. But I was just trying to make you feel better.”

Harry exhaled audibly through his nose, leaning against the doorframe. “I know you meant well. And it was true. I know you’re right, everyone’s right…”

“The guys are being jerks, teasing you like that. But they do mean well…”

"Yeah…” he cleared his throat after a beat, glancing at you from under his thick lashes, a smile playing on his lips. “You were trying to make me feel better?”

You gave him a small smile back “Of course.”

“You offered to help earlier.”

You furrowed your brows, looking around for something amiss. He seemed fine. You’d forgotten all about those noises from earlier. When you looked back at him readying yourself to ask him what was wrong again, he bit his lower lip and pulled the bedsheet off himself.

“Oh… my God.” You covered your mouth in disbelief, your eyes glued to his glorious cock, all hard and heavy. You watched as it twitched at your reaction and you couldn’t stifle a moan at the sight.

Harry’s lips curled up in a smug smile, he was happy with your reaction, if a bit shy. You could tell he was struggling to silence the thoughts that were no doubt running through his mind. He was recently broken up and most probably still in love with his ex. But clearly, he wanted to do something about that. And he wanted your help with it.

“Are you… are you sure?” you decided to risk it and ask, the last thing you wanted was for him to regret this and avoid you as a result.

“Do I look unsure?”

“I mean… depends where I’m looking. Your eyes tell a different story…” you walked closer to him and made sure to keep eye contact, as much as you wanted to keep staring at his naked body. You wanted to feel him out and also show him you were being mindful of his emotions.

His gaze darkened a bit, staring at your lips. “Came back here to feel sorry for myself, but I couldn’t stop picturing you from earlier… in this skimpy little bikini.” His eyes raked down your body, using the opportunity to get a good eyeful of you upclose. “I was imagining you’d followed me back here. Got a semi at the beach with how you ran your fingers through my hair, loved it when you pulled at the strands a bit… was imagining you doing it on purpose, to tease me. I know you…” he lowered his eyes again, a shy smile on his lips “I know you are a bit more dominant... you’ve mentioned it a few times. I’ve always been curious about that, never had anyone boss me around in bed. I’ve wondered what it’d be like, and it always gets me so hard…”

“...Always?” All of this was a shock to you, but here he was implying he’d fantasised about you before.

“I sometimes used to catch myself fantasising about you… and I willed those thoughts away.” You watched as he grabbed himself, stroking lazily, shuddering at the contact. “But now that I don’t have to anymore… it’s you, everytime I touch myself.”

You were stunned. And also, you couldn’t get your eyes off of how he was stroking his cock. Had he been doing this ever since he’d gotten to the hotel room? “You’ve, uhm… you’ve been back here a while.”

“Yeah. It’s getting painful. But I love edging myself,” he shrugged and lowered his gaze. He was just unbearably hot when he acted all shy like that. And you knew it wasn’t just an act, he really was like that, he’d always been like that. Both cocky and shy in equal measures, much like his feminine side. It was a heady mix. “Although, I’m pretty sure I’d love being edged more,” he added, his voice small.

“You really were thinking about me?” you whispered, getting even closer, close enough that your noses were almost touching.

He nodded, causing the tips of your noses to touch just like you’d foreseen. “Is that so wrong? So… soon? And even before… I didn’t mean to. I tried not to. I always told myself I was just curious about being with someone more dominant. But it’s not just that. It’s you.”

Damn. 

Feeling like that was more than enough confirmation that this wasn’t just a hasty, heat of the moment thing that he’d regret later on, you bridged the small distance and moulded your lips to his. 

And with how shy he tended to get, you expected him to be hesitant and tentative but Harry grabbed you by the hips and pressed you flush against his naked frame, making sure you felt exactly how hard he was against your belly. You couldn’t even really focus on that, not when his tongue was licking gently at your lower lip, begging for entry, which you welcomed with enthusiasm. He was such a naturally good kisser, none of it felt mechanic in the least, he wasn’t trying to impress, wasn’t trying to keep it nice and contained, he was giving it his all without being overwhelming. Sloppy, but still intense. You felt dizzy already.

It was such an overload of feelings. The smell of him so upclose- he’d been running around the beach in the sun and his natural scent mixed with saltwater from the swimming was making you dizzy; the way you could feel his breathing fan your cheeks; feeling him solid and real underneath your palms as you steadied yourself, snaking your arms around his neck- it was all making you feral. You’d imagined this so many times but this was so much better than you’d ever allowed yourself to fantasise.

You pulled back a bit, making a mental note of doing this right, making it good for him. You wanted to show him how good you could be for him, wanted to get him hooked on you now that he’d gotten a taste. You didn’t know whether this would just be a one time thing, or if it’d turn into something casual, a friends with benefits type of situation perhaps, or maybe even more than that. You didn’t want to dwell on it yet. You were perfectly fine with any of the options, in truth. It was Harry, not a random bloke, and as open minded as you were, still, you weren’t the kind to just sleep around. You knew that, with him, it’d never feel cheap or meaningless. 

“Tell me what you need, Harry. Wanna hear you say it.”

And there it was, his shyness was overcoming him again, and you didn’t allow him to look away, not when you reached out and grabbed his cock from in between you, stroking it gently, mindful of tugging too hard on his soft yet dry shaft.

His mouth fell agape and his eyes rounded with lust, and when you swiped at the precome at his tip he squeezed his eyes shut to compose himself. “I just need you. Need you to make me feel good, however you see fit.”

“Yeah, want me to take the lead, then? Make all the decisions, have you not worry about any of it? Order you around, dominate you?”

He nodded, resting his forehead against yours and then chasing your lips with his and you tutted, “Ah, ah. Be a good boy, then. If you want something, ask for it.”

“Okay.” His voice was small and whiney, he was gone. “Can I keep kissing you, please?”

You hummed your approval “There’s a good boy.” You hovered over his lips, still tugging at him nice and slow, making him pant in anticipation. “Go on then, kiss me.”

You got lost in the kiss. It felt too good to be just a kiss, you were wondering how you were going to handle more. And more seemed to be exactly what he had in mind as well, his hands starting to roam gently over your body. “Ah, puppy, you were doing so good. Hands behind your back until you learn to ask, alright?” He complied reluctantly, visibly frustrated because he’d really wanted to cup a feel, but also just as visibly excited to do things on your terms and finally get a taste of what this new dynamic might feel like.

“Tell you what, I”ll let you kiss what you can’t touch yet, how’s that sound?”

He whimpered at the sound of that and you walked back towards the bed and sat at the edge. “Go on then, on your knees pretty boy.” You willed yourself to take it slow, make it a pleasurable experience for him- a memorable experience. Reminded yourself to pay special attention to his body language, as he wouldn’t know to communicate if he wasn’t entirely comfortable with any of what you planned on doing. This was uncharted territory for him. You had to be responsible and make him feel safe at his most vulnerable. So, you couldn’t lose yourself in it and dive right in, as you would with people that have toyed with powerplay before. 

You couldn’t wait to have your way with him, but as it just so happens, you were also very much into edging as well, so, really, it was a win-win.

You parted your knees for him to kneel in between and then moved your hands behind your back, untying your bra and slowly peeling it off of your torso. His eyes darkened considerably at the sight of your bare breasts, and his hands came to rest over your thighs as he got closer, growing a lot more impatient. You swatted them away, “Hands behind your back, Harry. Don’t make me have to tell you again.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry– I just… Fuck, Y/N,” he shook his head, trying to calm himself down, hands obediently behind his back. “Can I taste, then? Please?”

You smirked at him, happy to see he was playing along as you’d hoped “Of course you can, baby. Been waiting for you to wrap those pretty pink lips around my nipples. Go on then,” you brought his head closer by the back of his neck, guiding him towards your left breast and he immediately latched onto it, sucking greedily, his mouth nice and warm and wet, making you throw your head back. “Oh god, so good. Love your mouth, puppy.”

Harry looked blissed out, alternating between sucking on your nipple and licking all around it, mouthing at the underside of your boob and over to the other one, lathering them both in his saliva, wet and noisy and perfect, just like you knew he’d be. “Been waiting for this?” He mumbled against your bud watching for your reaction, and even though he was trying to tease a bit you could see vulnerability in his eyes as he waited for your reply.

You nodded, biting your lower lip “Have had the fattest crush on you ever since I can remember. Fuck, I could come from this alone…” you whined, he was really good at this. But then again, you always knew he’d be. Just because he hadn’t explored his subby side didn’t mean he hadn’t explored everything else. “Don’t act surprised. I’m sure it was painfully obvious,” you murmured, your turn to feel shy.

That made him moan against your breast, biting on the plump flesh and no doubt leaving a bit of a mark and you allowed it, since you loved it so much anyway. “Wish I’d known sooner.”

You didn’t dwell on it for too long. You couldn’t allow yourself to, didn’t wanna catch the wrong idea and get ahead of yourself. Maybe you’ll talk about it later, but right now? Right now he was working you up into a frenzy. “Well, you know about it now. What’cha gonna do about it, pretty boy?”

“Whatever you want me to do.”

You sunk your fingers between his braids and tugged at the roots a bit, unlatching his mouth from your breasts. The lewdest moan left his lips before you pulled him in for another sloppy kiss. He was growing needy and you could practically see him slip further and further into his subspace. “Love this greedy mouth, H. What else can it do, hm?”

“Please, Y/N. Let me eat that pussy.”

You smirked, that was music to your ears. “Good boy, puppy. Love it when you ask nicely. You gonna lap me up, make me come on your tongue?”

“Please, please.” He reached to kiss you again and you laughed against his mouth.

“Greedy puppy. Remember you need to ask first. You’ll learn though, won’t you?”

“I’ll do anything. I’m sorry, I will. Just– please...”

“You can use your hands to hold me open, but I only want your mouth on my pussy. Alright? I’ll let you know when you can do more.”

He nodded vigorously against your lips and kissed you a few more times for good measure before pulling back a bit and watching as you untied your bikini from the sides, pulling the damp fabric off of you and finally exposing yourself to him fully.

You scooted back a bit, leaning on your elbows and gestured for him to have at it. With laboured breathing, he glanced at you for a second before he pressed his hands against the undersides of your thighs and planted the soles of your feet on the edge of the bed, spreading you open for him.

He moaned loudly at the sight, his eyebrows pinching together as if in pain. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re dripping for me. Fuck, fuck…”

“Do something about it, then.” Your own voice was starting to betray just how far gone you were as well. You were gagging for it now, but you were hellbent on dragging this out for his sake more than yours. All you wanted was for him to sink that glorious cock inside of you and end your suffering, but you could wait it out a bit, especially when it meant watching him stare at your pussy as though it was his favourite dessert.

He wasted no time, bending over you and dragging his tongue slowly up your folds in one delicious swipe. He wrapped his lips around your clit, humming loudly against it, and your head fell back, crying out your pleasure when he started lapping at you in earnest. He made sure to sink the tip of his tongue ever so slightly into your weeping hole on each pass, then dragged it back up focusing on your clit again.

He ate you out like he was kissing you, same sloppy, yet intense, unpracticed manner. He just did what felt right to him and what he found you were most responsive to. Right off the bat, you could tell you were done for. This man ate pussy like it was his favourite cheat meal. 

“So good, Y/N. Fuck, I’m losing it.”

“Wanna use your fingers, pretty boy? Slide one or two inside of me, feel me out? Coat those pretty, painted nails in my juices?”

Harry whined “Pretty like yours?”

“Prettier,” you smiled remembering your same reply from earlier on the beach.

A strangled moan escaped his lips as he buried his face against your core and nuzzled your clit with that perfect nose of his. He was hellbent on getting you off, and truth be told, you were holding off your orgasm. Nobody had gotten you there quite as fast before.

“Do it then, get me nice and ready for that big fat cock of yours.”

He groaned, resting his forehead against your thigh momentarily, then shook his head smilingly. He was both in agony and ecstasy, the anticipation visibly killing him. He brought his middle finger to his mouth, sucking on it, getting it all nice and wet and you caught his wrist before he brought it to your weeping core, wrapping your own lips around it first.

He cried out as though you’d just taken his cock in your mouth instead, which was exactly what you’d hoped for. “Now get to it, baby. Wanna soak those fingers.”

“Fuck. Yes, please.” He got right to it, running his finger through your folds before finally sinking it inside you, agonisingly slowly. “So tight, fuck, Y/N. Can’t wait to bury myself in this snug little pussy…”

He leaned back in to suck on your clit as he began petting your front wall with the pad of his meaty finger and you collapsed on your back completely. When he added a second finger, you lost it.

“So good, Harry. Fuck, you’re so good. Eat that pussy just right. Gonna come all over your pretty face.”

“Please, please do it, Y/N. Need it.” He whined, increasing the speed of his thrusts and pressure he applied to your g-spot. He lapped and sucked on your clit noisily, moaning everytime you clamped around his fingers, getting closer and closer to your release.

And when you finally came, he kept at it, burying his face flush against your pussy and lapping up all your juice like a starved man. You knew if he kept going you’d come again, but that would take too much out of you and you still wanted him to fuck you.

You wasted no time, bending to kiss his lips in gratitude while you still felt some of the aftershocks run through you. “Need you inside me now, baby. Want you to ruin me, think you can do that?”

He nodded against your lips, smearing your arousal all over your own face as well and he then went to kitten-lick it off of you as you crawled back on the bed, pulling him with you. “I can, I know I can. Let me be good for you, Y/N.”

“You’re so good for me, H. Made me see stars with how good you are. I just know once you sink inside me you’ll ruin me for everyone else. Want you to.”

Harry looked as though he was high. As though he couldn’t believe what he was experiencing was actually real. He looked dazed out and he was sweating, panting heavily in anticipation. “Been edging myself for a while, and I almost came when I had my mouth on you. Dunno how long I’m gonna last… will you give me another chance if, if–”

You chuckled softly at how frenzied he seemed “I won’t mind if you come fast, puppy. Just ask me for permission before you do, alright? We got all the time to play, and I still wanna suck you off, too. The only reason I haven’t yet is because I knew you’d not last long and I wanted to edge you a bit first, since you told me you’d like it. Did you not like it, baby?”

“I loved it, love you telling me what to do, when to do it. Never had this before. Never knew how much I needed it. Please, Y/N, I need to be inside you.”

You opened up your thighs even more for him “Rub that pretty cock all over my pussy, Harry, get it nice and wet.”

He bit his lower lip, positioning himself right at your entrance and wrapping his hand around himself finally. He squeezed tightly, trying to compose himself a bit and then dragged himself between your folds just like you’d told him to. He slapped his tip against your clit a few times which made you arch your back and then felt him at your entrance, the stretch already making you clamp around his tip.

“Go on, puppy, fuck me good. Want to feel you all the way up into my belly.”

Harry groaned loudly at your words and the feel of you engulfing him perfectly. Once he got his fat head past your entrance, and you clamped down on him on instinct, he pulled back, making you cry out. 

“Sorry, sorry! Fuck, that was–”

“It’s alright baby, try again, I know you can do it. Know you can hold off a bit, be a good boy, hm? I need you so much.” You whined, pulling him in for a kiss and giving him a moment of reprieve to gather his bearings.

He didn’t even need to guide himself into you, he was hard enough to push right in, and you didn’t break the kiss as you moaned into each other’s mouths. You let him kiss you as he slowly worked his way inside you, all the way to the hilt and you threw your head back when he pushed against your cervix deliciously. “Fuck me, you’re so deep; gonna be so sore, Harry. Make it hurt, baby, come on.”

Harry gritted his teeth, mustering all his stamina to focus. He was too far gone to tease, and so were you, so he sat back on his haunches and threw your legs over his shoulders, thrusting into you at a fast, steady pace. He held your hips tightly at first, then moved his large hands lower under your bum, lifting it off the mattress and working you over him to meet his thrusts all the more intensely. You cried out, it was a lot to take in. He was quite large and girthy as it was, and he was rock hard. But it hurt so good.

When you reached your hand to rub your clit, Harry groaned so loud you thought he was coming. But he pushed through, squeezing his eyes shut and focusing on holding off. “None of that, puppy. Look at me. Look what you do to me. Gonna come for you again, I’m so close. Please. If you’re a good boy I’ll let you come all over my tits… you know… since we skipped the rubber.”

Harry’s eyes went from blissed out to shocked, his movements slowing down considerably- he’d clearly absolutely forgotten all about protection.

“Relax, H. I’m on birth control. And I’m clean.” And, you’d totally forgot about it too. So you couldn’t let him take all the blame for being reckless.

Harry choked out a sigh of relief. “I am too! Got tested after I found out she’d been cheating… Fuck, I’m so sorry, Y/N… we hadn’t been using any, she was on the pill… It totally slipped my mind–”

You took the opportunity to flip him over and straddle him. “Shhh. Enough of that. You’ve been so good for me, baby. Just sit back and let me take care of my good boy.”

You wasted no time getting you both back on the brink of orgasm. Harry even brought his thumb to your clit, as his large hands held you flush against him, coaxing you to grind yourself on him as deep as he would go, remembering to ask for permission first, which made you whimper and praise him for being so well mannered. 

“Please, Y/N… wanna be good for you… but–”

“Wanna come, puppy?”

He nodded frantically “I’m gonna burst, it’s too good… you’re too good. You feel amazing. You’re such a wet dream, Y/N.”

His voice was raspy with need. You could tell he was trying his level best to wait for you to come, and you decided to have mercy on him “Beg. Beg for me to let you come, Harry.”

He threw his head back, his muscles taut, struggling to hold off. “Please, please… Fuck, I’m desperate, please baby…”

“Hmmm… should I? I haven’t come yet…” you teased, clamping down around him to push him over the edge. 

But you gasped in surprise when he pulled you flush against him, holding you tight, and started thrusting into you with wild abandon as he panted into your ear “I’m begging. Come for me, Y/N. Please. Need you to come. Give it to me.”

You lost it. The sudden flip in demeanour had you spiralling, and he was fucking into you so good, the angle just right, that it threw you over the edge, taking you completely by surprise. You’d been extremely close, but the way he went about it had made you come instantly.

Feeling you spasm all around him and hearing you moan and whimper loudly had him join you immediately. You were both crying out your pleasure, and it was downright pornographic. You’d kept it at a reasonable volume throughout, seeing that you were in a hotel room and knowing your friends might come back from dinner any moment, but neither could hold back when you finally reached your peaks.

Harry kept you flush against him as you both tried steadying your breathing and your heartbeats and then searched for your mouth, giving you a lazy kiss. “Sorry for not asking permission… at the end, there.”

The hint of mischief in his voice wasn’t lost on you. You hummed, biting his lower lip teasingly “Guess I’ll have to punish you for that.”

A smirk tugged at his lips as he gently placed a loose strand of your wavy hair from over your sweaty temple to behind your ear “Was hoping you’d say that.”

lhh Masterlist

A/N: missed writing for my favorite muse! and it's my first time writing subrry! hope i did him justice ❤️

💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌

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#harry styles smut #subrry #sub!harry #harrys styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #lhh #long hair harry #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles concept #harry styles prompt #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles x yn #fkinavocado

[wanderessblue]

The Slytherin Party

Sebastian Sallow x Ominis Gaunt

Part 2 - Sebastian

Tags: NSFW 🔞, aged up characters, smut, best friends to lovers, fluff

AN: go read part 1 before this if you haven't yet :) Part 1 - Ominis

The next morning Sebastian got up with a painful headache: everything around him seemed to be spinning.

As soon as he opened his eyes flashes of memories from the previous evening were pestering his mind.

He could not remember precisely what had happened, but he had an unusual feeling inside that he could not explain. It was as if his unconscious remembered perfectly every detail of the night before, but the conscious part of his mind refused to cooperate at that moment, no matter how hard he tried.

One image, however, kept reformulating in his head: Ominis, his face illuminated by the dim moonlight, his hypnotic blue eyes, the flush on his cheeks, his soft lips on his own.

And then, immediately after, another one: he and Ominis, in his bed, embraced, naked and...

"That's not possible!" He exclaimed alarmed. He couldn't have had sex with his best friend. That would have been ridiculous and senseless and... Oh, Sebastian who do you wanna fool? You've been waiting your whole life for this moment.

"No! It can't have happened." He repeated to himself. That would have been his first time and the idea of having had sex for the first time and not remembering it, moreover under the influence of a potion and probably forcing his best friend, made him feel sick. He felt stupid and terribly guilty.

At that moment his heart was beating wildly. But one thing was certain: he needed to talk to his best friend, he needed to make things right.

He got out of bed and noticed a glass full of water on top of his bedside table with a note under it: 'It will make you feel better' signed by Ominis. Sebastian smiled sadly at his friend's thoughtfulness and decided to follow the advice, after which he quickly got dressed and headed towards the common room to find Ominis.

When he entered the room he impatiently searched for Ominis' face, but instead, MC caught his attention as she shouted his name while approaching him.

"Hey good morning, how are you feeling today?" she asked with a smile on her face.

"I'm better, I guess. But I think I messed up last night." Sebastian replied with a sigh and looked fearfully into her eyes, trying to discern from her gaze if she was aware of what had happened.

"Oh right, you mean drinking Garreth's potion. I wonder what he put in it. You seemed very... euphoric yesterday."

"Oh yeah, of course, the potion...Wait, how do you know about the potion? Did Weasley tell you about it? He swore to me that he would have kept his mouth shut. That bastard."

"Well, actually it was you to admit it to me and Ominis. It was quite a funny scene, I must admit it." MC replied.

"Oh... I must have been a real mess yesterday because I can hardly remember a thing." Sebastian laughed embarrassed and then he added hesitantly: "MC, speaking of last night... Have you seen Ominis? I really need to talk to him."

"Ominis is in Hogsmeade with Poppy. I think they'll be back in the afternoon" replied the girl.

In Hogsmeade with Poppy? And why was that? Why had he asked her and not...him?

Sebastian shook his head, trying to drive away those questions from his mind. Why did he suddenly feel so jealous of his friend? Well, after all, he had always been a bit, because Ominis was his best friend and no one else's, but in that instant, he could feel the blood boiling inside him.

Lately, Sebastian had noticed changes in his feelings. When he spent time together with Ominis he felt happy and wished those moments would never end. He had always been there for him, even in the most difficult moments, and Sebastian had always done the same for him. They had created a bond that went beyond a simple friendship. They needed each other and Sebastian was just beginning to understand it.

He had always known he was attracted to boys as well as to girls. That was confirmed by the several crushes he had had during his life. But it was since not long ago, that he had started to realize that what he felt for Ominis was more than just the affection two friends could share.

Of course, he had never told anyone about it, except his sister Anne to whom he told everything. But surely that wasn't something he could freely talk to his best friend, he was too afraid he might lose him. He had always believed it was better for him to repress his feelings than risk losing him. He was too important for him and he couldn't let it happen.

He had tried, with great effort, to keep his emotions under control and he had succeeded. Until the previous evening.

If he hadn't taken that potion.

He thanked MC for the information and decided to head for the great hall to get something to eat, waiting for his friend to come back.

------

The rest of the day passed quite slowly, Ominis still hadn't shown up and Sebastian was losing his patience: the need to know what had happened the night before was consuming him.

After spending the afternoon studying, he decided to head towards the Undercroft to calm his nerves. The moment when he would talk to his friend was approaching and the mere thought of it made him quite nervous. The Undercroft, on the other hand, was the perfect place he used to go when he needed to think, relax or just be alone.

As he crossed the threshold of the room he saw Ominis arranging some objects, who turned in his direction having heard the gate of the room open. They both exclaimed the other's name at the same time, whereupon Sebastian laughed embarrassed and said: "How long have you been here?"

"Um... Like five minutes, I came by to drop off these books I bought today in Hogsmeade with Poppy." Only in that moment, Sebastian realized that Ominis was holding a book, while two others were resting on a table next to him.

"You didn't tell me you were going to Hogsmeade. At least I didn't expect you to go with her." He uttered the last sentence almost as a whisper. He didn't want to sound possessive, but the words came out of his mouth in that way.

"She was the one who asked me. She had to buy food for Highwing. I told you yesterday, don't you remember?"

"Oh...Really? I must have forgotten it."

After a short pause, Ominis cleared his throat and approached Sebastian who had meanwhile filled two glasses with juice and was handing one to his friend.

"How are you today? Do you feel better? You seemed very out of yourself yesterday" Ominis said, laughing nervously between words.

"Yes, I'd say I'm better now. Although my head is still throbbing at times."

"The potion Garreth gave to you must have been very strong if even you couldn't sustain its effects." Ominis smiled. He knew his friend was quite used to drink alcohol after the nights they had spent at the Three Broomsticks.

"Yeah... Weasley didn't warn me it would be that strong. I don't remember much of what happened at the party yesterday." Sebastian turned his gaze towards Ominis and noticed that his face had blushed a little. He felt himself running out of air, both because his friend looked damn good and also because the blush on his cheeks confirmed that something had happened between the two of them. "There is one thing I remember, though, but I don't know if it really happened." He continued uncertain. "Did we have sex?" He asked, then he brought his glass to his lips and swallowed a sip of the drink.

"W-what? No! Of course we didn't have sex, Sebastian! Why did you think that?"

"Oh thank God." He said after a big sigh. "I must have dreamt it then. But I don't understand, I was so sure about it...but then I woke up and you weren't there and I didn't -

"But... You kissed me," Ominis admitted.

At his friend's revelation, Sebastian spat the juice in front of him catching Ominis in the face.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry... Hold on, let me get you something to clean you up... " He said embarrassed at the mess he had made and handed him a handkerchief.

"So we really kissed? I thought I dreamt that too." Exclaimed the boy incredulously.

"You kissed me. That's different!" Ominis pointed out.

"And how was that?" Sebastian asked after a few moments.

"What kind of question is that, Sebastian?"

"How was the kiss? If you liked it or if it sucked...That's all."

"Why do you want to know? It was just a kiss. You were drunk and I couldn't move." Ominis said almost irritated at his friend's question, almost as if he was hiding something.

"Fine." Sebastian said in a sad tone.

"What is it now? What do you want me to say? That I liked it?"

"No...I'm just curious. I didn't want to upset you."

After a long pause, Ominis sighed, "Okay.... If you want the truth. It was quite nice, actually. Although I don't have any criterion for comparison." He replied blushing.

"What do you mean?"

"It was my first kiss."

"Serious?"

"Yes. How many people do you think I've kissed before?"

"Merlin's beard Ominis! I'm so sorry I was your first kiss. You should have given it to someone you are in love with."

"It's not a big deal, Seb. I told you it wasn't a bad thing after all. Besides, maybe it's good that I gave it to you." This last sentence came almost imperceptibly from his lips and Sebastian thought for a moment that he had only imagined it. Then he approached his friend, taking the glass from his hand and placing them both on the table next to them.

"Why?"

"There is no one I trust more than you."

Sebastian was in front of him as he lifted a hand to his face gently moving a lock of hair back and whispered: "So you did like it."

"I didn't expect it. And I was unsure how to react. But then you grabbed my face and place your lips on mine and... I forgot how to breath. Is this a bad thing? I've never felt this way before."

Sebastian's heart began to hammer inside his chest. He could not believe his friend's words. He had wanted that moment all his life and now that it had come, he had no idea how to react. His mouth had gone dry and his legs were trembling. Ominis, on the other hand, had begun to blush furiously and had lowered his head to the floor to try to hide it.

"Omi I..." Said Sebastian, taking Ominis' chin with one hand and raising it in his direction. "It's not a bad thing. I've felt the same and I can't believe this is happening for real. I've waited this moment for a long time."

"What? Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I couldn't risk losing you, you are too important for me. Also, I didn't expect you to return my feelings."

That was true. He had never imagined that his best friend would return his feelings. For months he had felt wrong and had spent nights crying thinking that if anyone found that out, he might lose him forever. But Ominis was right in front of him admitting that he had feelings too. He couldn't believe it.

"Can I?" Ominis asked, raising his hands hesitantly and bringing them close to Sebastian's face.

"Sure."

Ominis first placed his hands on the sides of his friend's face and then passed them slowly over each part: his ears, his cheeks, his forehead and than his lips. At that contact, Sebastian felt a rush of shivers running through his body and swallowed loudly. Then, unexpectedly, he left a kiss on the blond's fingertips. Ominis smiled and let his hands slip behind his friend's neck. At that point, Ominis leaned forward and pressed his lips to Sebastian's, who did not hesitate to kiss him back.

Sebastian felt a warmth in his chest that spread throughout his body, his heart was beating so fast and he could hear Ominis' own doing the same.

This time, the kiss was much more intense than the night before. Sebastian wrapped his arms around his friend's pelvis to draw him closer, then he intensified the kiss even more by taking Ominis' lower lip between his teeth making him moan. That sound drove Sebastian crazy and he took advantage of the boy's half-open lips to let his tongue in. Ominis made a sound of surprise before he respounded to the kiss.

Sebastian then started kissing Ominis' neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses that sent shivers down his friend's skin.

He began to unbutton his shirt until he opened it completely revealing the blond boy's pale chest. He continued to kiss his skin until he touched a nipple with the tip of his tongue. He began sucking it and drawing small circles with his tongue around it making Ominis' neck stretch backwards in pleasure.

"Permission to continue?" Sebastian asked breathlessly.

"Y-yes, please."

Sebastian didn't need to be told twice. He lowered himself to his knees and put pressure with his right hand on the bulge in the boy's trousers in front of him. Then he began to unbutton his school uniform, bringing it down to reveal its well erect length.

At that sight, Sebastian's cock jerked in his trousers and he had to bring a hand over it to relieve the discomfort the too-tight pants were causing him.

With one hand still on his cock, Sebastian began to leave moist kisses around his friend's pubes, then he took his length with his free hand and squeezed it, starting to pump up and down.

Ominis began to pant louder and louder and Sebastian wasted no time in licking the base of his genitals. He brought both of his hands to his friend's butt and plunged his face into his testicles, licking them.

Ominis' head was completely backwards, his eyes half open and his lips parted, letting out little sighs of pleasure.

The freckled boy took the tip of the blond's cock between his lips and left a series of kisses on it, then began to swirl his tongue around it.

"P-please, Sebastian." Ominis said begging his friend to take his full length into his mouth.

At that plea, Sebastian's brain shut down completely and his mouth began pumping up and down his friend's length, while one of his hands caressed his testicles and the other rested on his butt.

"S-Seb, I'm... Ahh... Coming." Ominis said moaning loudly.

Sebastian pulled his mouth away and continued the movement with his hand, pumping harder.

Ominis poured completely on Sebastian's neck and chest, who gasped at that sight.

"If I'm dreaming again I don't want to wake up" Sebastian commented still leaving kisses around his friend's genital. Then he pronounced a spell to clean up the mess they made.

As he stood up, Ominis smiled and hugged Sebastian tightly, plunging his face into the hallow of his neck and letting his friend kiss his head.

For the first time in his entire life, Sebastian was sure about the feeling that his heart was holding.

#sebinis #sebastian sallow x ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy #sebastian x ominis

[samsvenn]

oooo i wanna ask if i could get some karl headcanons since they aren't too popular here

𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐳 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

his favorite candidate for the adam and eve plan (karl’s convoluted way of saying ‘son’) is ruki because out of all the sakamakis and mukamis who are only interested in the title, power and authority he commands, ruki is the closest karl’s ever had to feeling a human emotion (father and son) since he actually needed to put in effort to guide ruki as a parental guardian.

karl’s ascension to the throne had its own unique issues. with the previous vampire king dead and a young karl about to be announced as king in a few hours, the viboras began to colonize small territories.

there was no way karl was able to travel to the outskirts where the territories were located in the timespan the attack was carried out. this was the beginning of the uneasy tension between the viboras and the vampires. 

bath and body works (the company) is his favorite human creation

he has particular disguises and shape-shifting forms he likes to fool around in. right now, it’s a tie between being a squirrel and an owl

in a similar regard, karl’s real appearance is a contrast from how he usually appears. his usual dewy skin looks dull, apricot-moisturized lips have faded in color, his scarred areas looking more grizzly, and his fingers appear bonier. it’s as if all resemblance of life was hollowed out from within. 

he keeps a track of the survival percentages between the sacrificial brides and his sons. in short, for each son, they’re assigned an average lethal percentage and the brides are assigned a survival percentage that is based on estimations on whether or not they’ll survive one full month. 

karl won’t use his omniscience for the percentages so it’s his own cruel game on how likely things are gonna follow a pattern and how often things deviate from said pattern. 

he’s into those aesthetically-pleasing desk organization tiktoks. but, on that same ending note, he’s not into making aesthetically-pleasing planners because he thinks they’re a waste of time and resources.

when subaru was born, karl was wondering when the side effects of inbreeding were gonna reveal itself. he was on baited breath for the duration of subaru’s childhood not because he cared, but because it would’ve caused issues for subaru’s emotional development for the adam and eve plan (the irony is unmatched)

karl can time travel, but not in the conventional way like a time portal or a time device. for him, time travelling is rewinding the past to a specific point or as he likes to call them, “major and minor checkpoints”

it’s like when you rewind a movie to go to a certain scene or just click the watch bar to go back to a certain timestamp. his memories are the only ones intact during this and the others? they don’t have the faintest clue.

dislikes rain water with a passion but loves rain

he’s incapable of laughing because he never learned how

karl’s weirdly fond of ducks. there’s no good explanation for this, he just likes ducks

it is physically impossible for this man to giggle. whether his brain can’t process the muscles or his lungs just don’t know how to cooperate, it sounds so mechanical and forced because it is (if you don't know how to mentally picture it, just imagine freddy fazbear giggling)

one day, out of nowhere, an idea to conquer earth using the kingdom’s army came into mind. it’s not like anyone could stop him, much less his own sons.

however, since it’s an idea he never executed before, he used future foresight to give him a quick five-second look of the ending result. he ultimately decided against it because what he saw was nothing short of disastrous.

richter makes his blood boil because he unintentionally ruins karl’s plans. so what does karl do? every night when richter sleeps, if he’s seething with jealousy that entire day, he’ll dream of karl massacring his body or unusual punishments fit for a medieval peasant.

karl makes sure the dreams vary in how severe they are so richter doesn’t catch on. 

when EDM music plays, he immediately feels nauseous and teleports to a building two blocks away

one way to repel karl and make him despise you is to throw soggy bread at him. He’ll physically recoil because the texture is so “outrageously disgusting”

loathes mustard. it doesn’t even matter if it’s honey mustard, he hates it

he actually more adrodygenous than you’d assume. If there's one thing he’s keen on, it’s looking timeless. 

has a love-hate relationship with how bananas smell

despite being his biological sons, karl can’t deny that the family most deserving of his powers are the mukamis. they inherently have human compassion and characteristics that the sakamakis had to develop through trauma. 

won’t admit it but the sound of crocs squeaking is both entertaining and funny to him

#diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers fandom #diahell #dl #rejet #karlheinz sakamaki #diabolik lovers headcanons #headcanons #sakamaki

[tommiematthews]

HIKING

22/11/22

I have been offline, off the grid and away from technology, I travelled back in time and I am unsure whether or not I liked it. What I do like, is that I am sitting down in front of you, boiling with material to shoot into you… the diary that is. although I may spray my seed of black inked memories onto these blank pages of innocence, I will never be able to incapsulate the memories we made this weekend… and I am happy for it. As I sit back in my cocoon of technological devices, I cannot help but fall back into the habits of scrolling. The trend at the moment, anyone with a phone doing small skits and becoming small social media stars. I don’t know if it’s because I believe it or I am jealous, but I feel like I could make way funnier content than most of these accounts. Although looking through them, after a weekend of nature and friends, it is evident that no matter my bullshit pipe dreams of social media potential talent, I don’t want to exist in that form. That is, I only want to exist, in my physical form, physical actions with small echoes of a picture on a polaroid in someone’s room or a poem or letter that I may have written to someone. To live online is to live in an image where you are waiting for a reply, I have written this phrase before “I want my life to be like a film, with staged dialogue and an expected reply, I want my life to be in full frame, with a soundtrack that will bring the world to tears”. I cannot be in full frame on social media, I can only be a selfie, a selfie in the sense of self-motivated for selfish actions and my self happiness will be decided by not myself, but everyone else, or in fact, no one else. So, I intend like every diary entry, to be better in the technological sense, be removed from this online world, the future and the growing fads, be real.

I have some good news, I have time to write, so I intend to try and be more descriptive in this next part, rather than metaphorical and elusive.

On Friday, we headed down to Wilson’s Prom for a 3 days hike, or around 45km of hills, valleys, beach and shrub terrain. When I say we, there were 7 of us, Harrison, who is brother to my partner, he is 6’7 and seems unphased by everything, he also has the smallest pack, because he is most likely the smartest. His strides travel further than double ours, higher than the biggest fallen trunk and his head clears the way of any cobwebs as he travels down the trails. His brother and brother to my partner is also present, his name is Jack and he is the only one wearing pants. Jack is the sort of guy that you need to have around for the logical moments, his laugh is big and infectious when bellowed, he is the group photographer and no one is happy about it with 20kg packs squeezing on their mid drift. His partner Kim is present with us, her flesh light water bottle and small stature, she looks like its her first day of school with her giant pack on. Kim is a bit like a kid sometimes, always being silly, saying funny things and never scared to make a fool of herself. Kim makes me feel normal, because most of the time I am the silly one, feels good not to be alone in the mayhem. Kim also is a bit like a kid sometimes because she will go from silliness to deep serious conversations, she is no fool and looks for connection in everything. Alex is here also, she is wearing hiking socks and a chipper attitude which never seems to leave her, she has cooked fresh pesto for dinner on the first night in typical A Mac fashion. Her partner Spike is carrying the world on his shoulders, I say the world, I mean our world, at least our world for the next three days. He is the leader of this expedition and we are all happy to follow his glowing calves. My partner Monique is present, but barely, a week after covid, a few weeks of relentless uni and 170weeks of putting up with me, she is here. Monique is a work horse, strong in will and quiet in complaining, I fear if her covid is hindering her, she will not speak of it. Finally, theres me, never hiked, never overnight, never two nights and never understanding what we are about to experience. But I am an athlete and I will push on. Our first hike lasted around 4 hours, we arrived at ‘roaring meg’ only to find the only thing that was roaring were my bowls. Luckily the drop toilet was clean, but there was no clean water to fill up our bottles, we set up our tents only to find the one we borrowed was the size of two large snails fucking. What made it worse was the 4kg air mattress that I thought would be a good idea to bring, was as flat a smoker that forgot to bring a lighter on this 3-day hike. Relax, I found it, sitting by the stream and cooking around a small flame really gives you the belief that we don’t need all the shit we got… but its fucking nice. The sleep was poor but Jacks’ coffee was good, we had an 8-hour hike today to refuge cove, aptly named after such a trek. About halfway up a hill, Monique couldn’t breathe from getting over covid, so I naturally put a hand on a shoulder, hander her a puffer and then lit a cigarette. I wanted to smoke this trip, more than I usually do, in order to channel my hero, Jim Harrison. I thought maybe if I chain smoke tobacco, sip on whiskey and smoke the odd joint, I would conjure a writing voice that would emulate my spirit. Turns out the only thing I got from trying to be like Jim was a struggle to breath and judgment from my fellow hikers. But I also got a connection, to Jim, to nature and to my friends, he was really right about the beauty of nature, of walking in it and the realisation that cities are the cess pool of the ways we shouldn’t live. I planned to write more, but when we got to the 2nd last stop of our hike to refuge cove, we chose refuge instead at a place called Waterloo, the only thing I wrote was “and we played games around the campfire, while the trees rocked like a mother rock its baby monkey, gently swaying from tree to tree, while the creek gently pushed itself over the humbled rocks, we are laughing and nothing is better”. I planned to be Jim Harrison, I have written shit and I have written literally, both things I hate, Jim would hate me too, but he would know that I am writing and he would love me for that. After swimming in the ocean, we stuck toes in the white sand, if it wasn’t for the 11degree water, you would have thought we were in Fiji. But we weren’t, we were in Australia and more than that, we were in the world, the land, as it should be. We walked back the next day, sore, but giddy, arriving at the top carpark, expecting a marching band and the mayor with a key to the state. Instead, were met with the wind and rain that we had only just beat, as we drove away, swearing for longer trips in the future, it was clear a monumental memory had been made. No matter what, I will look back at my life, these people will always hold a memory, as moment and a bond of the small thing we did together. The beers and food acted like cement to solidify the memories that were just made, and I smoked a final cigarette for Jim, for helping me do this sort of thing and to be in nature, I’m looking forward to the next trip.

#dailyblog #Tommiesblog #Tommiesdiary

[lolabangtan]

STAY | 05

Spring Break’s just around the corner and your friends, of course, can’t sit still. Now you and Jungkook have to deal with a trip on the busiest week of the holiday while pretending you don’t want to kill each other.

index • previous • next

Word count: 12k

Warnings: strong language, alcohol consumption, these two being fucking jerks.

# bed sharing, honestly these two are hilarious but also so f*cking infuriating, awkward failed truth or dare game, cuddling in their sleep, dirty thoughts :) Kookie has a problem with boundaries to be honest, some touching (for the sake of skin health), mild angst.

A/N: you know when two people are like madly into each other but they’re just too stupid and headstrong to accept it? Well, that’s it, that’s them. Like, they fucking drool over each other.

Ah, holidays. The perfect time to rest, relax, cook healthy food, and finally get rid of those stubborn chores that would otherwise give you a terrible headache. Maybe you’re one of those losers who spend the holidays at home instead of partying until you don’t have any liver cells left functioning, but you’re a loser without migraines.

“God, I’m starving,” you groan, cupping your belly.

Jungkook, the other stay-at-home loser, is dozed off on the other couch. Putting your laptop aside, you get up and head to the kitchen; you could use some deliciously spicy noodles.

Humming a song that’s stuck in your head while you pour water in a pot and turn the heat on, your phone starts buzzing on the living room’s coffee table, so you place the pot and rush back into the room. Jungkook stirs on the couch, disturbed by the ringing noise.

You pick up on your way back to the kitchen. “Ah, Ari, it’s you. How’s it going in, uh, Bamberg?”

“Hi, babes. We’re back already, got a flight yesterday morning.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve dropped by your place or something,” you groan – they could’ve saved you from the inevitable boredom of being the only loser left in town. “Want me to? If you’re not too tired.”

“We kinda are, um, let’s leave it for tomorrow…” She sounds suspiciously meek, and it makes you squint your eyes. “Actually, we’re busy— we’re calling that hotel I told you about…”

You sigh. “Ari, we don’t have the money to stay at a hotel,” you groan to the phone as you check the water. It’s almost boiling, so you pour the noodles into the pot. “I’m sorry, Ari. I know how excited you’re about the trip, but we can’t afford it.”

“But if you did, would you come with us?”

You groan again. “But we don’t. And before you or Jimin try to pull off one of your—”

“Because it seems there’s been a mistake with the rooms,” Ari insists, cutting you off; “we’ve accidentally booked two rooms too many, all-inclusive, but they won’t give the money back. A real tragedy. Namjoon and Hoseok are going to do us the favour of using one of them so that it doesn’t stay empty. Surely you can do the same with the other one?”

If you didn’t know her already, you’d be sure she thinks you a complete fool. Alas, you do know her, and you know how much she has been looking forward to going on this trip. And really, a weekend at the beach sounds fantastic, but you’re not a beggar—

“Noona!”

Jungkook’s voice startles you from behind, not having noticed he’s woken up, and you jump, turning around to see him sweep you to one side and turn down the heat.

“You had the fire on full,” he whines, “you could’ve burnt the pot – and I borrowed it from Tae.”

“Oh, is that Jungkookie?”

He looks at your phone in your hand. “Oh, is that Ari-noona?”

“As if it’ Mother Teresa!” you cry. “Listen, Ari, you know I love you, but the plan was to go down to the beach, camp, and come back the next day. Quick, easy and, above all, cheap. We just can’t afford it, and I won’t have you spending your own money for us.”

“Why not? Want me to cry, is that it? Want me to get on my knees and beg you to accept the money, you sick fuck?”

Against your will, you let out a laugh at her antics. “Can’t we just stick to the original plan?”

“But— I don’t wanna camp…”

“Well, you should’ve made richer friends then.”

“But I don’t want richer friends,” she whines again, and it almost makes you give in to her pleas and begging. “I wanna go with you and the others! And I’m willing to pay—! I want to pay!”

You put away your phone, not willing to hear any more of her silly reasons – you’re not a beggar, that’s it. If you really have a democratic friendship, why do they keep pestering you and trying to force you to do something you don’t want to? As you’ve already said before, you just want to be a regular, ordinary member of society. The kind that has to stay at home during Spring Break because they’re broke.

“Babe, my noodles are gonna get soggy if I don’t take them out already, I’ll call you later!” you say as soon as you put back the phone on your ear and hang up. “God…”

Though it looks like Jungkook, who is standing behind you and fidgeting much, wants to say something, but he just purses his lips and walks out of the kitchen without a word. Raising your eyebrows, you focus back on the noodles, pouring them back on the bowl and mixing them.

“Is there any more of that?” Jungkook asks, almost drooling when you sit back on the couch.

“No.”

He’s turned the TV on, and now there’s a silly show about a bunch of people going through an impossible obstacle course playing out on the screen – but regardless of how trashy it looks and how poor the production is, though, he seems to be enjoying it, giggling at every contestant that fails and cheering for his favourites. Not really interested in it, you devour your noodles while scrolling down your social media.

A sly notification pops up telling you that your battery is low.

“Ugh, great—” Grabbing your charger, you bend over the armrest of the couch and try to plug it in. Your chest starts to ache from the pressure, you squirm on the padding until you manage to fit it in and sit up again. “Finally…”

As you turn around, Jungkook’s eyes flee away from your figure; he’s back at tinkering with his own phone. With your phone charging, you finish off your dinner and go to pee, leaving the bowl in the sink on the way. When you come back from the bathroom, you go check your phone’s battery. Ugh, it’s only been charged by three per cent since you left.

Then you notice that Namjoon has sent you a message:

[Wednesday, 8:38 PM] President Joon: I hear you’re coming with us to the beach!!

[Wednesday, 8:38 PM] President Joon: Could you bring folding chairs? Then we won’t have to buy them there.

You frown as you read the text and rush to type an answer.

[Wednesday, 8:52 PM] You: Who told you that? 🤡 🤡 Because I’m not going. I already told Ari when she called me, a while ago. I don’t have the money.

[Wednesday, 8:55 PM] President Joon: Oh, sorry then! I just heard Tae saying that Jungkookie was coming since Jimin owed him something, no big deal. I assumed you were coming too. He hasn’t asked you to go with him? Did you two fight or something?

“Jungkook.”

Your stern voice makes him look at you with doe yet knowing eyes. “Hm? Yeah?”

[Wednesday, 8:56 PM] You: Not yet.

[Wednesday, 8:58 PM] President Joon: … Did I fuck up?

“Did you tell the guys that we’re going on the trip?” you groan and throw your phone onto the couch in frustration. “I can’t afford four nights in such a hotel!”

“But they said the room was already paid for,” he replies just as aggrievedly. “I felt kinda bad, but Jimin said he wanted to pay me back for that time I saved his as… with something last term. Honestly, I don’t even remember – but he was so insistent, and since the camping trip got cancelled, I couldn’t say no.”

“Don’t you have any pride?” you ask him, grimacing.

Jungkook pouts at you. “I do! But I know it’ll make them happy, and it’s not like have anything else to do here… Besides, you don’t have to come with us if you don’t want to.”

“Namjoon literally just asked me if we had a fight today – because I told him I’m not going.”

“Well—” But he doesn’t really have anything to say to that, so he finally gets that he’s more or less forcing you to either go on a trip or make up a fight – and both options require to drain even more of your pride. “There’s no going back now.”

Scoffing and rolling your eyes at him, you once again grab your phone.

[Wednesday, 9:13 PM] You: No biggie! It’s just that it turns out we are going on the trip. Kookie simply forgot to tell me.

[Wednesday, 9:19 PM] President Joon: That’s great!

[Wednesday, 9:19 PM] President Joon: And please, don’t forget to bring the folding chairs. I think they fit in Hobi’s boot.

“Oh—! I think I see the station already.”

You don’t reply – or react, for that matter – to your friend’s words of excitement, looking through the window instead.

“I’m not going to say sorry, you know,” she whispers then, smiling slyly and nudging you; “in this world, you gotta be smart, the smartest, to survive – and we outsmarted you. Just deal with it.”

Although she sounds vexingly cocky, you know her well enough to know she’s just teasing you. And, honestly, despite the effort you’ve made to avoid being tricked into coming, you know you have a bunch of really fun days ahead.

She hears you scoff, but she only smiles and goes back to the drama she’s watching on her phone.

Just fifteen minutes later, the train arrives at the station. All you have to do is take a taxi to the hotel and then you’ll finally go to bed after such an exhausting trip.

It’s past ten in the evening, as the cheapest train was leaving at dinner time, and even if your room was paid for, you weren’t going to let anyone pay for your ticket as well. The group reluctantly agreed not to go by plane, or on an earlier train, at least. Better not piss you off even more.

Since you’ve already had dinner on the train, you only need to do the check-in and pass out on your beds.

The hotel is more like a pretty family-owned inn located barely a ten-minute walk from a pretty seaside town. The resort that Ari and Jimin had planned to go to was completely crossed off the list because it was so expensive, although there was this unknown debt that Jimin wanted to settle with Jungkook by paying for his room. And the breakfast is included, so that’s one less expense to worry your pockets with.

You’re following the old lady who is showing you your rooms; while you and Ari joke and giggle all the way down the corridor, having forgiven any bickering thanks to the three drinks you had hanging out in the hotel bar, Namjoon and Jimin listen to the woman’s indications.

There aren’t many guests except for your group, she says. Breakfast will be a quiet business for her daughter-in-law, who is in charge of their humble kitchen.

“I hope you enjoy your stay. My son, the tall man at the front desk, grew up here, so he’s practically a local, knows the town inside out. Ask him anything, from places to eat to what to do if you get stung by a jellyfish.”

You and your friends just laugh, and the old lady tilts her head, wondering what do you find funny as she leaves.

Namjoon and Hoseok are the firsts to walk into their room. After they let you peek inside, they harp you to do the same and say goodnight. With a loud yawn, Taehyung is next to open his room, and you, again, peek inside, only to see it pretty much looks the same. A bit disappointed, you say goodnight, and you and Jungkook finally reach your door.

“Will it be your first time sharing a room?” Ari teases you, wiggling her brows

“Shut up.”

She finally goes with Jimin and walks up to her door with a shit-eating grin. “Goodnight! Don’t do naughty things~”

“We’ll do our best,” you scoff, rolling your eyes.

Jungkook has already unlocked the room and is taking both of your suitcases inside, the gentleman he is. But then he dramatically drops them to the floor with a loud thud.

“There’s only one bed?” you hear him groan.

“What? We’re technically a couple, did you think they’d be all prude about it and give us twins?” you reply to his pout with a chuckle. “Come on, pick a side— come on, don’t be such a baby…! What is it, Jungkookie?” you can’t help chirping, teasingly wiggling your eyebrows. “Are you embarrassed to share a bed with a girl?”

He doesn’t even bother to answer, just hoisting his suitcase on the mattress to take out all of his stuff.

You, on the contrary, are the kind of traveller that doesn’t bother to do that – whatever you might need from your luggage, you might as well keep it in your suitcase and take it directly out of it. There’s no need to be so thorough. Especially on holidays.

“God, Jimin really planned out every single minute of our trip,” you mutter, scrolling down your phone, and you laugh, getting up to show him something. “Look, he even scheduled our night-time, ‘Sunday, 5:00-12:00 AM: sleep off hangover’, can you believe it…?”

Jungkook takes a look at your phone as he folds a shirt. “I think you’re more excited about this trip than you want to show.”

“Of course I am,” you reply with a frown, “never said I wasn’t… I just hate it when Ari pays in my place,” you tell him in a sudden burst of honesty, “feels like I’m taking advantage of her.”

“I’m sure Ari-noona knows you love and appreciate her.”

His words make you freeze as something warm seeps into your chest, and your constant headache weakens a bit. Is he comforting you? Or at least trying to – because if he is, he’s pretty much succeeding. And weirding you out in the meantime.

“But I’ll pay for the room, I have some savings,” you blurt out then, taking out your pyjamas so that you can think about something else. Your cheeks suddenly feel warmer, and your hands fumble with the opening of your bag without much luck. “I was saving it to go see my brother, but it wasn’t enough, so it’s pretty much lying there without a cause. And I was going to use it to pay for my car anyway, so—”

“Also, I think you’ve never stopped to think how you make Ari-noona feel when you do that.”

You look up, squinting your eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I’m just saying— if I were your, uh, rich friend paying for your things,” Jungkook murmurs then, “I’d feel like you’re trying not to owe me anything. So that you don’t feel like you gotta be with me—? Have you ever thought that, if noona and Jimin-hyung are using their money to pay for this room, it’s because they really want us here?”

You’ve never looked at it in that way. Most of the time you feel like they pity you so much that they feel like they have to pay for your things, but aren’t you friends? Don’t you buy her things for her birthday? Don’t you get her coffee and give her rides? Because you love her.

It occurs to you for the first time that Ari might be trying to do just the same.

“I know it makes you feel vulnerable… but that’s the fun of having friends, noona – you can be vulnerable around them,” he finishes with a soft smile. But he suddenly drops it and turns around to lock himself in the bathroom.

Who does he think he is now, a friendship guru?

The sound of running water comes from the bathroom. You really should take a shower too; it’s been a long trip, and a steaming shower wouldn’t do you any harm.

You hop in the shower as soon as Jungkook is finished.

Once you’re washed up and your skin is breathing again, you realise you’ve left your cream in your suitcase.

“Naked woman in a towel coming through!” you exclaim before opening the door. “Boys who have never shared a bed, don’t open your eyes!” But contrary to your expectations, Jungkook is staring at you with a mocking grin when you walk out into the room and rummage through your suitcase. “What?”

“Nothing, you just look like one of those mums in those adverts for anti-wrinkle creams, you know” – he points at the towel wrapped around your head – “with the towel-turban and all.”

You can’t help sighing. “You sure know how to compliment a woman, Jeon Jungkook.”

“It— it was a compliment!” he whines in self-defence. “I meant ‘mum’ in, uh, a MILF kinda way, not as an insult.”

“I’m literally a college junior and childless.”

You decide to ignore his bullshit from now on and proceed to apply your lotion – which is NOT an anti-wrinkle cream, by the way – on your legs, making sure Jungkook can’t see a thing from beneath your towel. Not that you don’t notice him glancing from time to time at you, giving you creepy neighbour-peeping-from-the-window vibes, but you just close the lid of the jar and go back into the bathroom to put on your pyjamas.

While you’re lying down and scrolling down your Instagram feed, you notice Jungkook grabbing all the pillows he sees from both the mattress and the wardrobe. A second later, he crawls to the centre of the bed and starts building a wall of pillows to separate your side from his.

You arch your eyebrows at him. “What are you doing, may I ask?”

“Well, I don’t want you to sneak into my bed – again,” he blurts out with a scoff, still piling them up.

“I was drunk,” you groan as you put down your phone. “And it’s our bed now, by the way— hey, you can’t just hog all the pillows!”

With a frown, you let your phone on your bedside table and get beneath the blankets, tugging at them and making Jungkook’s not-so-steady wall crumble down. He whines, claiming to have spent a lot of time – three minutes if you’re not mistaken – building it, but you’re fake-snoring loudly with your eyes closed, so he just gets into bed next to the collapsed rampant of pillows.

This is going to be one long trip.

There are some kind of flaming vines pinning him down, and Jungkook is sure he has the fire-breathing dragon right behind him. How did he get caught so easily? It was his destiny to fight it and defeat it for all the misdeeds it has done. And now he’s getting cuddly with it?

“Jesus Christ—”

Jungkook peels his eyes open when his heart pumps a tad too strongly in his chest.

“Fuck.” He’s almost breathless, and really confused – until he notices that the flaming vines are still pinning him down, and that the evil dragon is still behind him. “Ugh, not again—”

You’re knocked out with your arms wrapped around him, lips touching his nape just slightly, but they’re hot enough to send shivers down his spine. One of your hands rests against his chest and goes up and down with it as he breathes. The other one is, um, in a rather indecent place – but not too indecent, just placed against his lower stomach, right beneath his navel.

The pillow wall he bothered to rebuild – and that you re-destroyed without blinking an eye – is scattered all over the mattress and even on the floor.

Why does his life turn into a raunchy movie whenever you’re involved?

The more he stirs in your hook-like embrace, the more it looks like he’s humping your hand, and it all feels so fucked up and dirty that Jungkook accepts his defeat and reaches out an arm to check the time.

It’s twenty past eight, so he can go down to breakfast.

When he attempts to sit up, you tighten your grip around him, muttering something about a Pina Colada and how hot it is. You’re fucking nuts, he’s sure of that. Why do you have to be so clingy? That’s it, he’s going to sue you for groping or something, this needs to stop—

“Kookie, stop moving around…” Jungkook freezes as your arms squeeze him. “Give me back… my blankets…”

Shit, he can feel your lips muttering against his nape. You’re close, close. Why is your touch making him tingle all over? Stop! Okay, Jungkook, you have Y/N koala-hugging you on your shared bed while you’re barely wearing two layers, it’s completely normal to feel like this. A biological response, yeah, that’s it. Very natural. Just don’t pop a boner or something.

With a deep breath, Jungkook manages to sit up. Your arms drop, and you end up hugging his hips instead. “Come on—! You lunatic woman.”

If you’re going to cling onto him every single night, he might as well ask you to take the floor.

Once he’s out of your grip, Jungkook gets changed into something comfortable and goes down to the breakfast restaurant; it’s a peaceful, calm courtyard, with pretty Riviera-inspired furniture and a shy glimpse of sunlight peeping out from the walls.

Ari is waving at him from one of the tables, sitting next to Namjoon. It doesn’t look like they arrived too long ago, judging by their still full plates.

“My, my. How come you’re up this early?”

He lets out a worn-out chuckle. “Uh, rough night and morning.” At his words, his friends start oohing, teasing him. “Not in that way! God.”

A nice-looking woman approaches their table to take his order.

“I’ll— um, I’ll have the continental breakfast…” Jungkook mutters, cheeks blushing as he eyes the menu. “With coffee…” He looks up from it just to see them staring with stupid smiles plastered on their stupid faces. “Uh, yes, coffee, and brioche. Please. Thank you.”

Closing it a bit roughly, he handles the menu back to the woman and watches her leave.

“You’re having way too much fun,” he grunts as soon as she’s far enough away not to hear him. “Anyway— what did you order?”

“Same as you,” Ari says.

Jungkook’s breakfast doesn’t take too long to arrive, and he digs in as if he hadn’t had anything to eat in years. It’s been a really stressful night, or at least that’s how he’s decided to defend himself if Namjoon points out that he’s eating too fast.

“Ah, finally, here comes the rest of the troops—”

“Good morning, everyone!” you chirp, taking the seat next to Jungkook; Hoseok, whom you ran into as soon as you stepped out of your room, just as drowsy, has taken the one beside Namjoon. You look at the youngest. “Oh, so you were here. I wondered where you were when I woke up.”

He blushes – not only because he was the first thing you thought in the morning, but also because he just can’t take out of his mind the feeling of your body—

You stroke up and down his arm with an overly cheesy smile. “The bed felt so empty when you left, baby, I couldn’t sleep a wink.”

“N-noona—!”

“I’m just teasing you, Kookie,” you murmur then, leaning in for a soft kiss on his lips. Jungkook stays frozen on his chair at the sudden contact, at how naturally you’ve kissed him. “What are you eating?”

Ah, yeah. We’re ‘dating’. We’re supposed to act like a couple.

While the same woman goes to make your breakfasts after she’s come back before attending some other customers, all of you discuss your plans for today; first day, quiet day, or at least that’s what everybody wants. Jimin’s carefully put-together holiday programme will have to wait for another day. Or, at least, for tomorrow – today you just want to sunbathe, drink cocktails, and forget about the stress of mundane life.

By the time you’re served your breakfast, Jimin and Taehyung come down and sit with you, and the former whines when he’s told that no one wants to go on touristic activities today. Honestly, the food looks otherworldly. The coffee is pretty much siren-calling you.

Munching on the few remnants of his last brioche, Jungkook hears you chuckle softly. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say casually as you stare down at his lips. He doesn’t like that fond smile of yours at all. “You just look like a bunny when you eat like that, munching in little bites. Cute.”

There’s a small seaside restaurant that the front desk clerk recommended to Ari on her way down to breakfast. A bit packed as a general rule – especially during holidays – but perfect for take-away. You have decided to get ready to go to the beach and have lunch there, and frankly, spend the rest of the day there too; there are enough beach bars around to assume dinner to be covered for.

You carry the bags with the food and your beach stuff. It takes you a couple of minutes of searching along the shore to find a spot, but when you finally do, you don’t hesitate to settle in and get everything ready.

“It’s a good thing we came before lunch,” Namjoon whistles, “or we wouldn’t have found a place.”

“Well, the inn isn’t that far from the beach. We can always come down, dive in, and go back, in any case,” Jimin replies as he places one of the towels on the sand with Taehyung’s help.

Lunch is pretty laid-back, just the food displayed on the towels and people taking a bite from time to time. You must say the food is absolutely delicious – the kind of simple, good food that fills the stomach as well as the heart and leaves you all warm and drowsy after you’re done devouring it.

“I think I’m gonna sunbathe-nap now,” Ari tries to say through a yawn.

With Namjoon gone in search of crabs and Taehyung and Hoseok playing frisbee just some dog they just met, you sit down on the towel, pondering what to do; on one hand, you really want to get rid of the suffocating sensation of sunlight on your skin by taking a dip, but the feast you just had has left you so full that your eyes close on their own… Well, the sea is going to be there for quite some time, but the sun always gets half the day off.

And, if you can’t beat them, join them.

“Ari, can you put—”

Jimin points with his chin at the slumbering girl beneath him as he massages her. “I think she’s pretty much knocked out. Why don’t you ask Jungkook?”

Yeah, why not ask your boyfriend. Ugh.

With a sigh, you turn around towards the man in question, bottle in hand and a pitiful grimace. Jungkook looks up from his phone and stares at you in disbelief as soon as he figures out what you want.

“Okay,” he mutters, grabbing it from your hands, “but I’m not giving you a massage.”

“Thought as much.”

You take off your tee and lift your hips to get rid of your shorts, leaving you in your bikini. Then you lie face down on the towel, and Jungkook opens the bottle with trembling hands. He’s just gonna imitate Jimin, he thinks as he glances at his friend – well, perhaps minus all the horny groping.

So, he sits on your ass, hoping you won’t feel weird and embarrass him about it later, and starts pouring sunscreen all over your back—

“Hm, Jungkook?”

He retreats his hands like a terrified rabbit. “Uh, yes, noona?”

“You gotta untie the top first,” you say with a chuckle, already sinking into a state of nice relaxation as you lie down under the sun, “unless you wanna baste it or something.”

“Ah, yeah, sorry.”

His hands are even clumsier as he unties your bikini, finger shivering slightly and making him fear it will be at least an hour before he’s done. I mean, he tells himself, she’d technically be topless once I’m done. Half-naked, bare, boobs out, whatever you wanna call it. Is it creepy to be thinking about it while he’s straddling you to help you put on sunscreen? Probably – but it’s not like he can’t help the racing thread of thoughts going through his head as he has a mental breakdown.

Jungkook feels your body rise and fall as you chuckle. “Whenever you’re ready, baby Koo.”

“Don’t tease him,” you two hear Jimin tweet.

“Shut up, hyung.”

Victim of his own jitters, Jungkook hastily spurts a fat, cold load of sunscreen on your back, making you groan a complaint and flinch a bit beneath him. With a panicked apology, he proceeds to put his hands on your hot back and spreads the lotion all over it, sweeps his hands from the base of your back, on either side of your spine. Their light rubbing over your shoulders makes you let out an almost purr-like sound.

“Hm, Jungkook, I thought you said you weren’t going to give me a massage…”

Again, his hands retreat in panic. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to— uh, didn’t mean to grope, sorry. I’ll try to be done ASAP.”

“Well,” you murmur, dozing off, “I wouldn’t say no to one.”

“Do you want me to give you a massage?”

“God, Jungkookie, she does!”

This time it’s you the one to raise your head and yell at Jimin. “Shut it—! Yes, I do. If you’re down, of course. I’ll let you know if I feel like you’re groping, don’t worry.”

With a self-encouraging nod, Jungkook spurts even more lotion – this time onto his hand, fortunately – and puts them on your lower back, gently pressing and sinking his thumb in your flesh. The contact is so relieving, first making you tense on the towel and then releasing it, you can’t help praising his hands as if they’re a miracle.

“Fuck, Jungkook, are you—” You let out another gasp, and you groan when he puts the entirety of his palm over your lower back. “Right there, press harder… Are your hands magic or something…?”

“I don’t think so,” he replies with a breathless laugh.

“Pity…”

You’re talking so sluggishly, relaxing under his skilful touch – you wonder if this expertise comes from months of caring for his own muscles – and starting to fall asleep as he straddles your lower back, thoroughly spreading sunscreen all over your skin. Jungkook’s hands massage and sink in the just-right spots, you’re trembling under him in no time. God, you think you’re drooling; Jungkook’s thumbs just feel so fucking good right now.

Hoseok’s mocking voice startles the two of you as he chirps, “Jeez, get a room, you two.”

It’s like Jungkook snaps out of a feverish reverie – he’s sitting on your ass, giving you a massage while you’re technically topless. What the hell have you done for you to deserve such kindness? That’s what he grunts to himself as he gets off of you and throws the bottle of sunscreen away.

“No, Kookie, don’t stop~” you whine, already half-asleep on the towel.

Your words mix with the memory of your hot skin against his palms and make his cock twitch in his swimming trunks. Shit. Fuck, is he going nuts too? What the hell is wrong with him? He hates you, he can’t—! Injured animals, hairs in the shower drain, nails scratching a blackboard, touching something in the sea with your foot, wet socks—

“I think you broke him,” Taehyung says, prodding his butt with his foot. “Hey, Earth to the grooms – your girlfriends are knocked out. Wanna join us for a frisbee match?”

Once the noisy pair drag the other two to the shore, you let out the deepest sigh possible and rest your head on your arms. Now that you’re protected from the merciless sun and so relaxed it feels like you’re dying, you can’t really keep your eyes open anymore.

After tying back her top, Ari rolls forward until she bumps against you.

“What are you doing? You look like a chicken nugget,” you chuckle, pointing at the sand that’s now glued to her sunscreen-covered torso.

She laughs too, and you grab a magazine. “I was thinking, how about we throw a party tonight? Spring Break Grand Opening. I’ve been doing some research, and you can have bonfires in the sand. We could buy food that can be made over the fire and a huge amount of alcohol, and enjoy!

“Do you know how to build a bonfire?”

“No,” Ari says then and shrugs, “but that can be taken care of by our manly, highly intelligent boyfriends and their friends… Well? Doesn’t it sound sweet? I’ve always wanted to have sex on the sand with the sunrise—”

You just laugh harder. “Yeah, I get it, bonfires and sex on the beach. In more than one sense.”

“That’s my girl!”

You know Ari wants to keep Jimin to herself as much as she can before the Spring tournament; then he will be so busy, the event taking almost every single hour of the last three days of holidays, that she’ll barely be able to see his hair. And you should be acting the same, really, since Jungkook will be pretty busy those days too.

“It’s just three days, it’ll be over before you can even realise,” you say then, stroking her hair as you close the magazine with your other hand.

“That’s what I’m trying to tell myself too,” she murmurs.

It’s a lie, you’re well aware of that – Jungkook staying almost all the time training, going through strategies, and other swimming stuff you don’t care about is more like a blessing to you. But that doesn’t mean you don’t feel bad for Ari since she does like her boyfriend.

She jumps up, making you flinch. “Come on, let’s go for a dip! I look like a chicken in batter.”

And you follow her, walking instead of running to the water, laughing.

“You have to blow harder! The fire’s going out!”

“You blow now, how does that sound, huh? I’m literally running out of lungs.”

“You can’t run out of lungs, you shithead. Come on, get out of the way, we’ll do it. Call Hoseok-hyung to help you prepare the salmon.”

Jungkook frowns at his hyungs before turning around. The salmon packets are in one of the bags that have just been brought from a nearby grocery shop. He also takes out the marshmallows, bread, some Mediterranean stuff, and the salad packet inside the other, which Hobi takes to open so that he can get on with it.

“Do you plan to get off your ass at some point?” he asks, looking directly at you.

You and Ari are sitting down on the sand, figuring out the alcohol, talking about just anything and poking fun at Jimin and Taehyung as they try to finish lighting the bonfire.

“We’re the booze testers. And tone it down, brat,” Ari cackles. “You owe your girlfriend obedience and submission.”

But Jungkook lets out a dry laugh instead, folding some paper wrap before throwing it into the garbage bag. “Just because Jimin-hyung lets you brainwash him and walk him on a leash doesn’t mean I have to do the same.”

“Hey!” the aforementioned whines. “I have a safeword.”

“My sweet, sweet Jungkookie – you still have a long way to learn about the world.”

At Ari’s teasing, he decides that it’s best to just ignore her; after all, it’s not like he wants to know even the slightest information about those things ‘he should know’ about that world she’s referring to. Honestly, Jungkook doesn’t even want to think about it, horrid and explicit mental images coming instantly to his head.

By the time the bonfire party is more or less ready, it’s got pretty dark. You probably have barely half an hour of sunlight left, and it has started to get chilly too, but the fire does a good job keeping you warm the surroundings illuminated.

Food and drink fly from one place to another without a care in the world. It’s a beautiful night under the stars, you don’t want to miss it. You, personally, feel free for the first time in years.

Your chest feels like it’s made of air and feathers.

It’s good that there aren’t many people around, or the music would make some of them complain otherwise. Jimin and Hobi are dancing somewhere not too far from the bonfire, making fun of the shadows it’s casting and imitating them. They’re so fucking drunk, wasted almost, you notice with a chuckle; they’re both holding their cups, shaking them as they jump over the silhouettes. The liquid spills every time each of them does something stupid until Jimin slips and falls to the ground.

Hoseok throws himself to the sand with laughter, now both cups spilt in the sand. “Look at you!” And then he laughs a bit more.

“Shit, that hurt.” With an embarrassed smile, Jimin rubs his face and gets up to approach you. “Can I have another drink—? And another ass while you’re at it.”

“Should you?” you tease him.

Of course, you pour him another drink, heavy-loaded, as heavily as he begs you to. It’s almost disgusting to drink it. But he thanks you with babbled words of appreciation before he spins on his heels and goes back to dancing.

Except for you and Jungkook, everyone’s busy doing their own thing; Namjoon is looking for something on the shore – cigarette butts that he’s mistaken for crabs in his drunken state, most probably – and Taehyung and Ari seem to be engrossed in a pretty agitated debate about whether sequins are the worst thing in the world or people just don’t know how to wear them.

“Why aren’t you dancing?”

“Could ask you the same,” you reply with a small smile, sipping your drink. This tastes more like something that could grow from the soil, though.

“Just don’t wanna risk getting wasted, slip, and make a fool of myself in front of everyone? I’d rather leave that to Jimin-hyung, thank you very much,” Jungkook says then. His drink is clutched between his fingers, and he’s not looking at you.

“Well, at least he’s having fun. We’re just sitting here, drinking and sulking. How cool is that.”

He chuckles again. “You’re sulking. I, on the other hand, look cool; brooding and pensive, maybe thinking of a past lover whom I let go because I was too immersed in my inner demons.”

“What are you even saying?” You can’t help letting out a loud laugh. “I can look brooding and pensive too, you know.”

“You can’t.”

“I can!” you insist, still giggling.

It’s only when you hit him softly on the shoulder in a gesture of playful chastisement that you realise what you’re doing. And there’s no excuse, none of your friends is paying attention to the two of you – you are flirting with Jungkook. Like, actually flirting. The mere thought makes you stop in your tracks.

“Well, I’m a cool girl. I just don’t wanna steal your little spotlight.”

His face drops in an instant, he looks genuinely offended by your words. “Wow, thanks for the kindness, I guess. But you’d better— you’d better worry about yourself first; you need it more.”

“Fuck you,” you spit out and gulp down your drink.

“Fuck you.”

Jimin and Ari walk up to you and sit across the bonfire, and the two of you jump. “If you have sex the way you fight,” he says then, snorting, “you sure must have a blast in bed.”

The mental image comes to your mind in an instant, and suddenly you’re picturing him whimpering and whining beneath you. His doe eyes look up at you, but he can’t keep them open for long, the pleasure you’re giving him way too much— hm, perhaps that’s not the best thing to do when you’ve already tried to drunkenly seduce him. Not like it’s ever going to happen, though.

“S-she’s more docile when I— when I fuck her,” Jungkook replies, a blush creeping to his cheeks.

His stuttering is just way too adorable to take him seriously in any way, so you can’t really feel offended for his failed attempt at dominance over you. Sexual dominance, above all. It’s just, well— you have to laugh.

Puzzled, Ari arches her eyebrows and looks at you as she sips her drink. “Really? That doesn’t sound like you at all. You know you’re one of us.”

You don’t notice the way Jungkook’s eyes turn to you, curious. Then what does sound like you, then? He knows the way you kiss him whenever you have to put on a show in public, hard and bruising, like you can’t control yourself. It isn’t a pretence? But he has to push the topic out of his brain or he will obsess over the thought all night; the images that are coming to his mind aren’t exactly safe.

Besides, it’s none of his business.

“Let’s play a game or something!” Jimin chirps out of the blue. “Since we’re drinking and we’re sluts, how about we play truth or dare?”

“What are you, fourteen?” you snort.

Ari wiggles her eyebrows at you. “Afraid you’ll chicken out again, Y/N?” she teases you.

“Don’t push me, baby girl.”

The rest of the groups are summoned around the bonfire. You and Jungkook are still sitting next to each other, but he won’t look at you, so you decide to ignore him too; it’d be absurd to expect him to let his bickering with you aside even if it’s for the sake of the bet.

The game gets underway without further complication; over the next few hours, Ari tries to drink a glass mixed with sand only to spit it out in near tears, Namjoon admits that Jimin has the nicest ass here, you have to confess to wetting the bed until you were eight, and Taehyung is forced to lick Jungkook’s foot.

“It’s my turn, huh…?” Tae lets out a pretty drunken giggle. “Jungkookie! I dare you to fuck Y/N. Here, now— if she consents, of course.”

Jimin hits him on the shoulder, giggling too. “Come on, say something else.”

Meanwhile, Jungkook goes white just to get red a second later; he hasn’t been able to stop himself from picturing you on his lap, riding him in front of everyone. Fucking hell, is he getting sick or something? Did he perhaps get a fever?

“Why? Dares are fun because they’re… daring.”

“I don’t even think that’s legal, Taehyungie,” Namjoon intervenes. “You guys really are something else… Besides? I don’t think that’s something I wanna see.”

Hoseok glances at him as if he’s thinking ‘you fucking liar.’

“And it’s not like they’ll have the guts to fuck here, in front of us,” his friend retorts with a teasing grin; of course you won’t, nobody would, really. But if he can at least pester you with his teasing tone, then he absolutely will. “Jungkookie, you can always pick truth – I’ve wanted to know for months what Y/N did to your pants last term—”

When you turn to him, you see Jungkook staring at you in panic, like a deer caught in the headlights. What happened to his pants last term? Is it really that embarrassing? And how is that connected with you? Really, what the hell did you do to his pants?

“I— no, hyung—” he practically cries out.

“Sure.” Everyone turns towards you when you speak, but you only shrug. “Come on, Kookie. If you’re down.”

Jimin’s eyes pop out. “Wait, for real? You’re gonna fuck for real?”

“Yeah, why not? It’s a game, isn’t it?” You might or might not be fuelled by Ari’s teasing earlier; either way, you don’t want to be mocked like that again, especially not now that you’re going to snatch almost a thousand bucks from each one of them. “Or are you too shy now? Although you were the one who dared him to, Taetae.”

The aforementioned quickly gets rid of the initial shock, beckoning you to ‘go ahead’.

You might have spoken too quickly because now you’ve locked Jungkook in a trap. Well, you’ll have to hope that someone with a head – Namjoon, that is – will stop you before you get caught and arrested for gross indecency or something.

“Okay, let’s calm down,” Namjoon says. “We don’t need to make this uncomfortable for anyone. Just dare him to do a flip or something.”

“But that’s boring!”

“You’re fucking sick in the head, Tae. What are you even trying to prove?” Ari asks, sipping her drink.

Taehyung just keeps quiet, sulking in his prevention from slipping that, well, it’s fun to make the two of you kiss because you’re actually not dating and hate each other’s guts. It’d be hilarious and amusing for anyone with a brain, wouldn’t it? He’s just being kind of a dick so that he can torment you two with it. But he loves you.

“You guys are just boring,” Taehyung mumbles, lying on his elbow in the sand. “Okay, then—! Kiss or something. Whatever.”

The dare consists in kissing for a minute or so. Okay, you can do that; it’s not like they’re interested in the game anymore. Thank God that the mood is kind of ruined now. But just as you’re getting up to sit on Jungkook’s lap so that you can get done with it as soon as possible, the dizziness in your head makes you realise that you’re a little beyond tipsy. Jungkook lends you a hand and helps you keep your balance.

“Let’s just do it and get on—”

“P-please— don’t sit—” he whispers, and you nod, knowing what he means. Jungkook lets out a relieved sigh when you raise your hips off his lap. “Thanks…”

But there’s still this lump in your throat, even as Jungkook follows your lips with his for a kiss. “Are you sure you wanna do this? I can pretend I got sick or something. This is fucking ridiculous.”

Finally, your hands grip his waist. He’s trembling beneath you, but not in a good way. He looks incredibly uncomfortable, and you feel like shit, wanna throw up. Suddenly, you regret ever harping him to accept the dare, even if you did it so that he could avoid telling that story about his pants. Fuck, you feel cold all over.

Your hands leave his waist to propel yourself on his shoulders, and you’re about to get off his lap, but Jungkook’s hands keep you from doing it.

“Noona—”

“They’re literally ignoring us,” you chuckle, your faces too close for your friends to hear. “Except for Tae, maybe—”

“Kiss, kiss, kiss!” Taehyung chants.

“Just shut up,” you scoff, getting off Jungkook’s lap for good.

Weirdly enough, things don’t get awkward between you and him after this. Actually, the two of you laugh about it throughout the night, even if he is a bit pissed off at Taehyung and Jimin. It’s only when the party’s coming to an end and everyone starts pondering the idea of leaving for bed that Jungkook musters some courage and, on his way back from getting another drink, sits next to you and kisses you.

Well, he rather presses his lips against yours in hopes that you’ll take the lead, which you do – as soon as you get over the shock.

You first trace the outline of his lips with your tongue, feeling how he goes still in your grip. When you lean in for a proper kiss, expecting him to be smug about it, Jungkook just places his hand on your knee and scoots closer as he closes his eyes at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his. Shit, if you’d only go south and kiss his neck, give him a hickey or whatever—

“What was that about?” you ask in a whisper when you pull away, arching an eyebrow.

Jungkook shrugs. “Honestly? I’m kinda drunk,” he says then, giggling. “And I didn’t want to give Taehyung the satisfaction of making us shy or something. Is that all right with you?”

“You know what? Sometimes I like you.”

While you let out a soft laugh at your own words, Jungkook goes still. His hand freezes cupping your face before he pulls it away, as if electrocuted, and a slight – almost imperceptible – blush appears on his cheeks.

“What do you mean?” he finally dares to ask, fumbling with the hem of his tee.

“Hm? Well” – you stop to actually think about it, and Jungkook’s face changes – “you know— it’s nice to hang out with you when you’re not a pain in the ass.”

“S-so you only like me when I fit your requirements, right? I see…”

You let out a groan. “See? This— this is the kind of shit I just don’t understand about you… It’s so— out of the blue! ‘Requirements’? I-is that your word for literally not wanting to be insulted or vexed in my own home? Sometimes I like you, yeah— until you go back to being a dick, like you’re doing right now.”

Why are you nervous all of a sudden, he wonders? Jungkook has never heard you stuttering before, that’s his thing— but he can stay to find out because Jimin and Taehyung grab him by his arms and drag him away.

I’m sorry, Kookie, I’m really sorry, jeez, I’m a jerk, you hear as they walk away. You just stare at them, not noticing the heavy air the rest of the groups has sunk into. Besides, you’re still kind of breathless. Shit, breathless and horny, too. What a fucking kiss. You haven’t made out that well in fucking years.

“Hm, I think it’s pretty late.” Namjoon’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. “We should clean up and go to sleep.”

Again, Jungkook wakes up with your arms wrapped tightly around him. He lets out a sigh of frustration as if it’s already part of an absurd routine you two have set with your koala-like sleeping habits.

But then he feels a shiver down his spine when your fingers rake through his hair.

He’s nestled against your chest, cuddling you – or having you cuddle him, it’s not exactly clear. You look kind of pretty when you’re asleep, relaxed, almost content. This is, with all honesty, the last scenario in which he would’ve ever pictured the two of you, sharing a bed, pretending to be dating, being actual roommates. Life does work in mysterious ways.

Maybe it’s wrong that Jungkook decides to give in to your touch and enjoy your strokes, but he’s still half-asleep, and you feel so warm, so warm, really. If that’s not enough of a reason, then he’s to blame.

There’s something about you being soft that entrances him. Whether it’s just the generally nice feeling of being treated kindly or having you treat him nicely… Well, he likes it. He just likes it, that’s it. Anyone with common sense would prefer someone gentle over someone who just barks at you at the first chance.

Your nails on his scalp make him shiver again. Gosh, Jungkook would be willing to die here and now. Are you any good? Are you mean? Do you actually hate him? He’s a mess.

In some way, you mess him up.

“Jungkook.”

Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook? Jungkook!

Jungkook snaps out of his thoughts. Last night’s mental image is still engraved in his mind, he can’t get it out of his head.

“Rough night, Jungkookie?” Hoseok asks with his head turned away from the shop’s window to look at him. “You look terrible. We could go and have something for the hangover.”

Ari lets out a groan. “We literally had breakfast an hour ago.”

You’re having a coffee with Taehyung at some cute seaside café, talking about only God knows what. Maybe you were awake last night and you’re telling him about it as you laugh your ass off. ‘And he was so into it, the idiot!’ The mere thought makes heat spread in his cheeks with embarrassment.

“That one would look great on— Jungkook?” Ari calls for him and points at the Hawaiian shirt behind the window. “What do you think? It’s casual but colourful. Perfect for the holiday season.”

Hoseok lets out a laugh. “Do you take a commission on the sales or something?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Weather Boy?”

By the time they’re done, you all meet by the main square to decide where to have lunch, and what to do for the rest of the day in general. Taehyung recommends the café you and he just came back from, claiming that the menu they offer looks great and isn’t really expensive. You all head there, lunch goes on smoothly – Jungkook thinks you weren’t awake last night or, if you were, you haven’t told him a thing about it.

“Look, the sun’s setting already.” Ari takes out her phone to take a picture. “Gosh, so pretty—! Babe, do you want to, uh, go for a stroll?”

Despite the looks of suspicion they get, Jimin and Ari storm off back to the hotel. Namjoon, Taehyung, and Hoseok also decide to do something they don’t tell you, and the latter harps Jungkook to take you somewhere nice and do something romantic together. With a shit-eating grin, Tae agrees with him.

You plunge into the chair as the waitress clears your table. “And what are we supposed to do until dinner?”

“That’s three hours at least,” Jungkook murmurs, checking his phone. “We’re meeting them at the restaurant at eight, and the place’s thirty minutes away from here.”

You stare at him in silence, scrutinising his face.

Jungkook has been acting weird all day; since the very second he woke up, he’s been dodging you and your poor attempts at small talk. When you kissed him during breakfast and laughed at something Taehyung said, he got so tense that, for a second, you thought he was having a stroke. Whatever it is, it’s got something to do with you, and that’s exactly why you’re so pissed off. What is wrong with him today?

“We could go our separate ways,” you offer, waiting to see his reaction. “But even if Ari and Jimin are in their hotel room, the others are still out there. What if one of us runs into them?”

Jungkook frowns. “Then why would you say it?”

“I’m just thinking out loud!”

The two of you let out a sigh at the same time. You gaze into the horizon as the sun starts to set, gushing beams of amber-coloured light. Jungkook glances at you and watches your features under the golden glow.

“We could—” He stops and gives it a thought before he rewords it, “We could go for a walk?”

An unforgettable walk at dusk with Jungkook? The mere idea makes you scoff. But it’s not like there’s anything else to do, and you are bored to death, so you nod, get up, and grab your bag to leave the bar. It’s starting to get a bit packed, and your table gets snatched in a second – there is no turning back now, it’d take you hours to get another one.

The feeling of warm sand under your feet is actually pretty nice, and your mind wanders around while you follow Jungkook along the shore.

It’s been a relaxing trip, in some twisted way; your friends have been noisy – and nosy – as fuck and you’ve been stuck with Jungkook for most of the time, but you’ve had fun hanging out with everything – even with him. And it’s always refreshing to write yourself out of your usual corner.

“Shit—”

Jungkook’s pitiful voice snaps you out of your trance, and you look up from the ground to see him checking his phone with a grimace of despair.

You cock your head to the side. “What’s wrong?”

“The tournament,” he says with a sigh; “we just got the training schedule. I just felt all the chillax energy I got these days pop out into stress.” You laugh at his words, and Jungkook pouts. “And we have to leave town.”

“Are you perhaps nervous about the Spring tournament?” you ask then with a sly smile.

Jungkook gulps, and you suddenly feel a weird mix of pity and guilt nest in your chest; here you are, making fun of a poor boy’s anxiety while it’s probably ruining the memory of all the fun he had here.

“Don’t worry, the rest of the schools are pretty bad,” you say. “And, uh, you’re pretty good—! Don’t let the others see you like this – if their golden boy gets the jitters, what are they, poor mortals, going to do? Have some mercy, will you?”

He knows you’re poking fun at him, but it makes him chuckle, and the compliment is still there, so he’ll take it.

“You, um—” Again, Jungkook isn’t really sure how to word his thoughts. “You went to watch the tournament last year, right? With your boyfriend.”

You don’t why, but every time Jungkook mentions him, you cringe.

“Uh, yeah,” you murmur. “It was… boring.”

“But you’ll come to watch me, won’t you?” he blurts out, taking you by surprise. Why is he so eager? It’s not like he cares about your opinion, really. “I-I mean, you have to if we don’t want our friends to suspect.”

Suspect, suspect, suspect. Pretend, pretend, pretend. You’re starting to get fucking tired of those two words.

“I don’t know,” you groan, running your fingers through your hair. “I guess? I’d have to see if I have anything to hand in. But it’s not something I really wanna do.”

Jungkook blinks in confusion. “So— you won’t come?”

“I said I don’t know!”

“Okay, thank you very much!” he exclaims, turning away from you. He looks pissed off, and you just don’t understand why. “I’ll love to see everyone looking at me and thinking ‘poor boy, s-she doesn’t love him, she still likes his ex’.”

“Why would anyone think that?” you ask with a scowl.

“Because you always went to watch him, but you won’t come to watch me!”

You won’t even bother to reply to that. Instead, you stop dead in your tracks, snort as loud as you can and, taking in the sights of the amber-coloured shores beside you, frown. Whatever you were going to say, you’ve forgotten completely – now, where the fuck are the two of you?

“Jungkook?” you murmur. He doesn’t answer and keeps walking. “Jungkook! Stop for a moment, will you? Where are we?”

Reluctantly and sneering at you, Jungkook takes out his phone. “I don’t know, I have no signal— I think we should get a move on to the restaurant or we’ll be late.”

“I don’t have service either,” you groan when you take out yours.

“Fuck, great— we’re lost.”

The way he turns to you, it’s almost comical, you would’ve cracked up a laugh at his grimace of growing despair. But you don’t have a signal, and you have to meet in a restaurant in half an hour, and you have literally no idea where you are or how to get there. It’s starting to get cold, too, and you hug your arms in search of some warmth.

“Fuck, it’s not like we’re on Easter Island,” he whines.

“Well, we technically wouldn’t be here, in the middle of nowhere, if you hadn’t started whining about the fucking tournament,” you growl back, stamping past him in a pathetic attempt to see if that slight change of location makes you get some signal.

“So, now it’s my fault?” Jungkook asks, eyes wide in shock. “That doesn’t even make sense! You’re just throwing all this shit at me!”

“God, just shut up! I’m so fucking tired of your fucking voice!”

The only way to find the restaurant is to go back all the way to town as if you had never gone out for a walk. It does work, but by the time you get to the restaurant, you and Jungkook are sweaty, tired, pissed off, and dying to throw yourselves at each other’s throat. Namjoon is the one you find waiting for you out at the door, his bright smile full of relief – you have been completely vanished for at least an hour.

“You haven’t eaten anything. Are you all right?”

Ari’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you stop playing with the fork, moving the food from one side of the plate to the other.

“I’m exhausted,” you whine. “Do you know how far we had to walk? My feet hurt so much they’re practically throbbing.”

She chuckles and strokes your hair, completely ignoring her own food, although her dish is pretty much empty; it’s late already, and they couldn’t wait eternally for you to have a bite. “I still can’t believe you got lost taking a stroll at sunset. It’s so romantic!”

Yeah, so fucking romantic.

“I’m going straight back to the hotel,” you tell Jungkook, who’s sitting next to you with a grimace just as tired.

He whimpers, “Me too, I’m dead.”

So, while all of your friends are partying, probably wasted and dancing their feet off, you and Jungkook go back to your hotel room. Taehyung chirps at you not to wear yourselves out too much, at which you only roll your eyes before Jungkook follows you down the road in search of a cab.

“I’m gonna have a shower and go to bed,” he groans, taking off his jacket. “What about you?”

“Same. But maybe I’ll read a bit before going to sleep.”

Jungkook raises his eyebrows at your words. “I didn’t know you were into books… What are you reading right now?”

“I brought it with me, look,” you reply. Shoving your hand into your bag, you take it out and show it to him as you were casually carrying it around with you. “It’s a psychological thriller about a guy who wakes up to everyone turned into birds, but he’s the only one who can’t fly. It’s called, uh… ‘A bird-less flight’ or something.”

“Sounds… interesting?” he murmurs, and you chuckle. “It’s pretty unique, that’s for sure—” The taxi driver turns around to tell you you’re back at the hotel, so you pay him and get out. “Then I’ll shower first.”

“Sure.”

As soon as you walk into the room, Jungkook leaves his stuff on the bed and locks himself in the bathroom. In a matter of seconds, you hear the water running, and soon a cloud of steam pours through the crack in the door and floods the room. Is he trying to boil himself for dinner or something?

Anyway, the idea of showering tomorrow morning is starting to sound better by the minute. You’re exhausted, and you want to finish at least a couple more chapters; by the time he’s out of the shower, you’ll most likely be passed out in bed.

You decide to get changed before Jungkook’s finished, and he finds you already tucked in the blankets with your nose buried in the book you told him about.

“Weren’t you going to take a shower?”

“Hm, no, I changed my mind,” you murmur, “I’m too tired. You can change in there if you want.”

Jungkook walks up to the nightside table and grabs his phone. “They must be having fun, Jimin-hyung hasn’t replied to my texts yet. Is this what it feels like to be ghosted? Now I understand why they all get mad at me.”

“I guess? That’s never happened to me,” you say with a soft chuckle.

A few minutes later, Jungkook has put on his pyjamas and climbs into bed with you, puffing with exhaustion. His feet hurt so much that they seem to throb of their own accord.

You’re four chapters past the limit you had set for yourself when you feel a weight fall on your shoulder. With a start, you see that Jungkook, who was checking his phone, has fallen asleep, and that his head has landed on your shoulder under his own weight.

But against all odds, you don’t scoff or push him away – you laugh. A soft, amused chuckle escapes your lips as you look down at him, observing his peaceful gesture, his eyelashes, the mole under his lips, his chest as it rises and falls with his breathing. Sometimes, especially in situations like this, you can’t help thinking about how utterly absurd these past few months have been, and the hardest part of it is that you are slowly realising that Jungkook is actually a nice person; annoying as hell, that’s for sure, and incredibly bitter for some reason you still haven’t figured out, but deep down, he’s not bad.

No, you’ve known bad before. You’ve experienced what true nastiness and spite can be like, Jungkook is just petty.

About what? Maybe you’ll find out one day.

“Can we please leave already? We’re late!”

You keep rummaging through your suitcase; you’ve been looking everywhere for your wallet for at least half an hour, but it’s pointless, you’ve lost it.

Today is not your day.

For a start, you woke up late and had to take a quick shower, forcing Jungkook to wait to brush his teeth and get ready. On top of that, you missed breakfast – something he’s been nagging you about all morning – and you’re starving. Your mouth is salivating painfully in a silent cry for some nutrients.

“Shut up!” you whine. “I haven’t found it yet! Where the fuck could it be—?”

“So what? I’ll pay this time, noona, you’ll pay me back!”

With a heavy huff, you get up and face him. “So that you’ll shove it in my face at any given chance? Yeah, sure—! It’ll just take a second.” You turn your back on him to carry on with your search, but Jungkook scoffs so loudly you just can’t ignore it. “What’s the problem now, for God’s sake, Jungkook?”

“You’re such a fucking mess, really,” he groans. “Let’s just leave! Why can’t you let me pay for you? Look, I’ll take it as a favour you’re doing to me!”

“But what if I can’t find it because it’s not here? What if I lost it!” you insist. Why can’t he just get it?

“Then it’s already lost!”

Instead of keeping throwing leaves to the fire, you decide to just ignore him until he either gets tired of whining and shuts up or gets tired of you and stabs you to death. Judging by his personality – and his apparent allergy to proper cooking – though, you doubt he has the necessary skills to successfully use a knife against another human being. So, it’s a win for you.

“You know, you’re so fucking selfish. And then you’ll come back drunk and whining about how mean I always am to you, and blah blah blah! But of course, you always forget the good things I do for you.”

This does get your attention; Jungkook sounds hurt rather than plainly annoyed. Could this be about money again?

However, you don’t really care.

“Whatever, Jeon, I don’t give a fuck,” you scoff without looking at him, eyes fixed on the suitcase in front of you. “You can leave if you want, but I won’t lie if someone asks me why you didn’t wait for me—”

“B-bitch.”

Slowly, in shock, you turn around to him.

“I said what I said.” He doesn’t sound exactly confident, standing there as he struggles to hold your gaze, but he seems to firmly stand by his words. “You’re selfish, all you ever do is think about yourself. S-so you’re a bitch.”

Against all odds, though, you let out a breathy chuckle. Your veins are pumping boiling-hot blood.

“Do mommy and daddy let you use those words already?” you ask sweetly as you walk up to him. “What a big, big boy!” you chirp then, ruffling his hair. Jungkook shoves your hand away. “Listen, Jeon, I’m getting tired of your fucking shit; you’re petty, and you whine all the time, and you have the eating habits of a caveman. I’m the one who has to put up with a loser every single day—!”

Before you can even finish your sentence, Jungkook frowns, eyes piercing yours. No, he’s not mad – just a bit – but if he looked hurt earlier, now it seems like you’d fucking grabbed his heart and pride and crashed it against the floor. Before you can even react, he just storms off the room and locks himself in the bathroom.

“Jesus Christ—”

You hear three soft knocks on the door. “Uh, everything all right, guys?”

It’s Ari’s voice.

“Ugh, yeah, everything’s perfect,” Jungkook groans, walking out, as he turns around to grab his jacket. His eyes look puffy. “I’m leaving! Bye!”

You follow him to the door, ignoring your friend’s presence. “Hey—! Wait! I’m not ready!”

“I guess I’ll come later.” Watching Jungkook leave, Ari walks into the room, taking a look at everything in an attempt to make things less awkward. “So, why aren’t you ready yet?” she asks, arching an eyebrow.

“I can’t find my wallet.”

“And? Just let Jungkookie pay today, you’ll find it later—”

“No! Look, you wouldn’t understand, so let’s just let it be.” With a heavy sigh, you take your jumper and your bag and follow her down the corridor. “Really, it’s nothing.”

You know that look of hers. The ‘I’m trying to read your mind so I’ll just analyse every single gesture and noise you make to figure out what you’re thinking about’ kind of look, Ari’s speciality. It’s almost scary.

“Oh, I forgot, I have to pick Jimin up,” she says, stopping in her tracks. “I just came to see if, uh, you were good. I’ll see you downstairs!”

With a frown, you just nod and take the lift, still weirded out and looking at her. It engulfs you a second later.

Ari closes the door gently behind her. Jimin is next to the bed, debating between two shirts that look equally good on him when he looks up to see a sarcastic smirk on her face. If there is someone who’s a champion on being late, that’s her boyfriend, so she stopped fighting that battle a long time ago and just endures the social shame as well as she can.

“Your friend is a fucking jerk,” Ari scoffs.

“My friend…? You mean Jungkookie?” Ari nods, and he frowns. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, just that I’m starting to think that Y/N could do better.”

Now it’s Jimin the one who scoffs. “Yeah, sure. Look, I heard them fighting too, and I love her, but it’s Y/N the one who’s actually a bit too hard to handle. Jungkook can’t even blink in her direction without her bursting out in flames. Ardent attraction, I guess?”

“I can’t believe you’re defending him! Didn’t you hear the things he said to Y/N? That’s definitely not what a healthy discussion sounds like.”

“And I can’t believe you’re defending her,” Jimin barks back, folding the discarded shirt. “Yeah, I heard them, but it looks like it’s you who didn’t hear what she said to him.”

“Y/N was just defending herself!”

“And Jungkook was just pointing out a mistake that obviously inconvenienced him too!”

Ari lets out a loud scoff, rolling her eyes. “‘Inconvenienced’! She just couldn’t find her wallet, for Christ’s sake! Just because Jungkookie can’t wait five minutes doesn’t mean she was ‘inconveniencing’ him—!”

“Oh? Okay, I’ll remember that next time you try to nag me for being late,” Jimin retorts with a sardonic smirk. Ah, this sass that gets on Ari’s nerves every single time – feels like he does it on purpose. “Or does it ‘inconvenience’ you? See? It’s completely normal that Jungkookie got mad at her. And now you regret this whole thing?”

“I just realised I don’t want a douchebag as my best friend’s boyfriend,” she simply states, going to retouch her makeup.

“He’s my friend, you know? You could tone it down a bit.” At her silence, Jimin sighs. “God, you can be so selfish—! People aren’t just toys you can drop when you get tired of playing matchmakers.”

This time, he notices a change in Ari’s grimace – words can hurt.

It’s almost past midnight when you back to your room alone, leaving behind whatever the hell is going on tonight. You find your sweet fake-boyfriend lying on the bed, wearing his pyjamas and checking his phone.

“Hey, ‘bitch’,” you say with a smirk.

Jungkook shifts on the bed, awkward. He still feels kinda bad for calling you that out of all the non-misogynistic insults out there in the vocabulary. It was honestly just the strongest thing he could think of. However, it seems like you’ve forgotten about it already as you just pat his head and walk past him to hang your jacket.

“Hey…” He purses his lips and watches you get ready for bed. “You’re back early. I thought you wouldn’t leave until after midnight.”

You make a face. “Uh, didn’t you feel a super weird mood tonight?”

“Ah, yeah… Jimin-hyung and Ari-noona didn’t talk to each other during the whole time,” he murmurs, thoughtful – it has been an incredibly uncomfortable evening. “I wonder what’s going on between those two—”

The loud bam of a door slamming closed echoes across the hotel followed by shouts; you can distinguish Ari’s voice, but you can’t figure what they’re talking about. It’s Jimin whom she’s talking to. Maybe they just came back from the club and are in the middle of one of their kinky games, you think, not giving it much importance. Your priority now is to brush your teeth and go to sleep.

Three soft knocks on the door keep you from doing it, though.

“Ari?”

Your friend is standing in front of you, tears rolling down her cheeks and so agitated her chest is trembling. Before you can say anything, she throws herself in your arms, and you hug her tightly against your chest, kissing the crown of her head.

“What happened? Are you okay?” you ask softly so that Jungkook can’t hear it.

“Jimin and I fought. An ugly one,” she murmurs, sniffling. “Can I sleep with you tonight? I can’t stay in there. A-ask Jungkookie if we can switch rooms—”

So, the fight you heard earlier at the club wasn’t part of your imagination – they were fighting about Jungkook and you because of the quarrel you had after lunch. Guilt nests in your chest, you hug her again before you go to ask him.

Fucking hell, what a fuss.

Don’t hesitate to like, reblog, and leave some feedback if you liked it! It’s always good and encouraging to know what you think <3

“STAY” is copyright ²⁰²¹ Lola Bangtan, all rights reserved.

#sub!jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #sub!bts #jungkook fanfiction #sub jungkook #sub bts #jungkook x you #jungkook noona #jungkook fanfic #Jungkook fic #jungkook ff #bts fanfiction #bts smut #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x noona #bts college au #jungkook enemies to lovers #lola bangtan #stay jjk #roommates au

[trashytummiez]

Hi!

How about a overstuffed nauseous bakugo unable to burp until someone gives him a deep belly massage but ends up puking (if emeto is okay)!

Warning: contains bloating burps emeto indigestion tummy play vomiting

"Unnnngh...ffffuuuuck..." Katsuki growled groggily. He was on the couch huffing and panting while his hands aggressively ran across the sides of his bulging belly. The hotheaded blond teenager had just eaten enough to feed half a dozen people leaving his tummy so bloated and round it lifted his black shirt up. His glutted stomach was fully exposed and squeezing down heavily against his pants. It churned so noisily that Katsuki's stomach sounded like it was full of dangerous chemicals all boiling aggressively.

Himari had just entered their dorm and immediately saw her boyfriend slumped on the couch in such strain. She felt a mix of concern and deep arousal at the sight of his belly. "Jeez what did you eat??" Himari asked when she sat down next to him.

"Mrruuugh...too fuckin' much that's what," Katsuki groaned. His fingers really wrapped themselves tightly around his lower tummy trying to squeeze into it as best as he could. He had mouth open expectingly and sounded like he was gagging slightly. "Ungh fuck..." he sneered and patted the side of his belly firmly a few times. "Fuckin' fuck! God I got this huge fuckin' burp in me but it won't fuckin' come out..."

Himari wished she could've attributed the excessive profanity to Katsuki's tummyache but she'd just be fooling herself.

"Here let me help," she insisted and put his hands aside then placed them with her own. Himari's far more delicate hands were planted against the sides of Katsuki's swollen belly. His skin was so warm and hard to the touch. She couldn't even sway his stomach one way or the other. So she leaned into Katsuki and pushed her hands firmly into his belly.

She dug both her palms and her fingertips as firmly into that tight skin as she could get. His stomach bubbled ominously and really forcefully. But she pushed and prodded Katsuki's belly with a deep massage. Eventually Himari's efforts were rewarded in the form of Katsuki throwing his head back and burping so hard that she could feel every inch of her body vibrate from the power of the gas Katsuki just let out.

Katsuki was left groaning heavily. "OOoooohhh fuck...aaahhh..."

"Good boy," Himari teased patting his belly playfully. She loved the way his bulging stomach felt and the sounds it made almost as much as she loved those raucous burps Katsuki could let rip.

"I ain't a fuckin' doOooOoOOOOOooOg!!!" Katsuki interrupted himself with a rumbling burp that gave way almost immediately to another sharper burp.

He huffed again while Himari kept firmly kneading Katsuki's belly. She was massaging deeply into his belly as firmly as she could to get the gas rushing out. Her hands pushed and ground into his sides until she squeezed a very tense part of his belly. This made Katsuki's throat gurgle wetly. He lurched forward and gave a wet slimy burp but it was one that ended in his throat lurching violently. Midway into his burp Katsuki gagged wetly and grossly.

Instantly he covered his mouth and went green. "Oh fuck~" Katsuki barely managed to speak up. He rushed up from the couch and sprinted as fast as he could to the bathroom. Himari looked on with surprise and concern which was only made worse when she heard Katsuki spew violently into the toilet bowl. She cringed when she heard a stream of bile spewing out from Katsuki's mouth and splashing into the water followed by a groan and a flush.

"Unnnngh...oooooohhhh god..." Katsuki groaned breathlessly drooling heavily as his mouth hung open.

"Sorry I didn't realize I was squeezing that hard," Himari said when she headed into the bathroom and rubbed Katsuki's back. He apparently thought ahead and sprayed the hell out of the bathroom with air freshener after that. She continued rubbing his back while he panted in an exhausted way.

"Fuck off..." he groaned. "I ate too fuckin' much...that was on me..."

Katsuki looked miserable because he knew it wasn't finished.

He gagged into the toilet then gave another really harsh and painful sounding burp. It left Katsuki huffing until he ended up burping again so hard that a stream of vomit spewed out of his gaping mouth and rushed into the toilet bowl. Himari cringed and clenched her eyes but could hear the sickly sounds.

Katsuki must have really overdone it this time...

"That's okay. Get it all out," she said gently and patted his back a few times.

"Gruh...p-push..." Katsuki croaked.

"...Wha-"

"-On my stomach, push..."

Himari frowned in an uncertain grossed out kind of way but she did as Katsuki pleaded. She wrapped her arms around his waist and felt up his bare belly. It was warmer than usual and churning harder than she'd ever felt it churn before. In fact she could even feel it jostling a little from how aggressively it was gurgling. It was a complete mess in there.

She did a countdown to herself and then squeezed Katsuki's belly.

A huge echoing burp blasted out of Katsuki and with it a flood of vomit into the toilet. Katsuki was literally burping his puke up. If Himari were into emeto as much as she were into burping she'd be in heaven right now. Instead she couldn't help but cringe at the grossness.

Eventually it stopped and Katsuki spat out the last of his slimy bile into the toilet before flushing his sick down. He laid down on the floor of the bathroom panting heavily and his tummy stuck out over him looking much smaller than it was given how much of his meal he just puked up.

Himari sprayed more air freshener into the bathroom and tried to help Katsuki but he quickly stopped her and said "Just...lemme lay here fer a sec...ohhh fuck..."

The young lady frowned sympathetically at her boyfriend then crawled onto the floor with him. In a much more gentle fashion she rubbed his still pooched out tummy and tried to settle it down. "Next time you overeat for me try not to make yourself sick please..."

Despite how groggy and miserable Katsuki was he managed a weak but undeniably cocky grin. "Ungh...g-get over yerself...I did that shit...ohhh...'cuz I could..."

Himari stared down at Katsuki and gave his belly a teasing pat. "...Well evidently you couldn't..."

A long burp exited Katsuki's mouth and left him simply groaning in response. He didn't know which was worse; his aching belly or the fact that he couldn't do something for once.

#kink fic #katsuki #himari #oc #bakugo #sick fic #burping #belly kink #tummyache #emeto #nausea #tummy rubs #burp kink #vomiting #stuffing

[non-un-topo]

College, Car Seats, and Creamy Pasta (ficlet)

(This title, idk.) So I’ve been having feelings lately about the old guard with babies in modern aus, so here’s an experimental, kind of self-indulgent ficlet filled with extreme amounts of softness and bébé feels <3

_______________________________

There’s an infamous story all the way back from college that Joe loves to share which involves Andy drunkenly rolling her ankle on a beach and Joe having to carry her home--though, she could have walked, but Joe demanded to carry her--and fashioning an ice pack out of the only things he could find in his and Nicky’s tiny, decrepit apartment: A condom, and some ice from a small McDonald’s sprite (their freezer was broken when they moved in).

He lives to tell that story every chance he gets. Especially now, as he reaches into Andy and Quỳnh’s (much bigger and much colder) freezer nearly fifteen years later to retrieve a not-homemade ice pack and wrap it in a clean dishtowel for Andy’s poor crotch.

She’s lounging on the couch, even though she’s proven that she can walk, but Joe doesn’t mind, as she reaches back for the ice pack and shoots him a sly smile that says, Yeah, I know exactly which story you’re thinking about. He bats his eyelashes innocently back.

It’s a balmy Friday evening and Quỳnh’s still at work, though likely on her way home, so Joe has taken the liberty of cooking dinner. Andy begged to order a pizza, but Joe was not having it. And he thought himself to be the lax one of the bunch. If Nicky were in the kitchen at the time, it would have been anarchy.

“Thanks, Joe,” Andy says, as she settles into a more comfortable position on the couch with her ice pack, sighing. He adjusts the pillows at her back, which causes her to snort and slap his hand away.

“I’m not dying.”

Joe sniffs. “Yeah, coulda fooled me. How much did that baby weigh again?”

Andy laughs out a quiet, fuck off. “Nine pounds, eight ounces,” she says, quick as a whip.

“God…”

The baby, the reason for Joe and Nicky’s visit to Andy and Quỳnh’s apartment, is fairly chunky, sure, but he looks awfully tiny and pink, especially when he’s wearing his little hat. The hat with little lamb ears that Nicky painstakingly knit for him months ago, when he was barely more than a bump, that rarely leaves his soft little head. Nicky hadn’t even known how to knit at the time.

The baby’s name is Lykon, after a childhood friend of Andy and Quỳnh. Lykon was born at 4:26 AM on Monday. It’s Friday evening. Joe and Nicky have not left the apartment since Andy and Quỳnh brought him home.

And neither Andy nor Quỳnh have physically kicked them out, so Joe is staying right here.

Nicky had disappeared a few minutes ago to go change the baby while Andy napped, but he reappears then, slinking into the living room with Lykon held against his shoulder--he’s so little in Nicky’s hands, they almost swallow him--and Joe smiles at his husband in greeting before doing a double-take.

“Babe,” Joe says, and Andy cranes her neck to try and see Nicky over the back of the couch. “What are you doing?”

Nicky continues his journey across the living room floor--lunges, he’s doing lunges. Deep ones that make Joe’s eyebrows jump up in appreciation.

Nicky releases a finger from his gentle grip on the baby’s head and presses it to his lips. “Shush.”

“You trying to get your ass workout in while carrying my son? Really?” Andy asks.

Nicky’s response is whispered so softly, Joe can hardly hear him. “This is the only way I can get him to sleep.”

“Put him in the car seat,” Andy says, like it’s the most simple solution in the world.

“He likes it,” Nicky argues, still whispering.

Andy only shrugs. “Okay, but if he spits up on you…”

And right on cue, Joe hears a tiny gurgle, and there’s baby puke sliding down Nicky’s back.

Andy doesn’t say, told you so, but she doesn’t need to. Her smug grin is enough. With a poorly hidden pout, Nicky reluctantly hands the baby, who is now crying quiet little wobbly squeals, to Andy.

“You know,” Andy says, “you guys don’t have to stay. You have other commitments, I know.”

It’s the first time since Lykon’s birth that she’s said something like that, and Joe is only moderately surprised to feel a sudden onslaught of tears in his eyes.

“Or not,” she says, quickly. “We really appreciate your help, boys, it’s just… We don’t want to keep you.”

“Andy, shut up.”

She laughs, loud and open-mouthed. “Okay, Joe, okay. I love you guys.”

“We love you too,” Nicky says. Then he leans over the couch to peer into Lykon’s squishy little face. “And we especially love you.”

His voice changes when he talks to the baby. While Joe can’t control the way his voice raises several octaves and the way he coos gibberish, Nicky’s voice softens and hushes to something so comfortable, barely audible. It’s the way he would talk to a fussy toddler, Joe thinks, given the opportunity. He would level his eyes with them and speak to them like a person equal to him, providing the safest and most non-judgemental space for them.

Joe thinks. He hasn’t had many opportunities to see his husband speak with toddlers.

“I would be worried about you guys kidnapping him,” Andy says, “but I think it only counts as kidnapping if you leave the apartment.”

Joe snorts, and then he hears the water boiling over on the stove, so he dashes.

When Joe met Andy and Quỳnh, he had been a wide-eyed twenty-year-old, freshly out of the closet and already hopelessly in love. Well, that hasn’t changed, which always delights him to realize, after all these years. It was the love of his young life--Nicky, of course--who introduced him. Andy and Nicky were family friends, more like siblings, really, and of course Andy and Quỳnh had been together since the dawn of time. It took Joe no time at all to find a family in the four of them, inseparable as they all were.

Andy and Quỳnh had actually surprised him when they started talking about kids. That unexpected and world-changing conversation had been the beginning of a long and at times heartbreaking four years, before they finally got their donor, then suffered through a little over a year of IVF. They had almost given up, Joe remembers, between the frustration and the arguments and doctors telling Andy her eggs were too old. But, there he was, at the end of the journey, coming into the world flipping off everyone who said they couldn’t do it: Baby Lykon, the little warrior.

Joe remembers all of it vividly. The phonecall when they told him and Nicky they were pregnant, the panic to help them find a bigger apartment, the indulgent shopping trips, though Andy tried to keep a cap on those, and the weight and warmth of the baby in Joe’s arms the very first time he held him, barely thirty minutes after he’d been born.

Joe had sobbed, of course (something Andy and Quỳnh had anticipated so strongly they bet money on how long he cried for), and he looked into the baby’s big brown eyes and promised him the world.

They had talked about kids. Of course, they had. He and Nicky. But life was busy, and in the last five years between Joe finishing his dissertation and Nicky’s mother getting sick, the subject of kids just hadn’t come up. Besides, Joe thinks now, he’s only thirty-three.

Quỳnh comes home as he’s dishing up dinner for everyone--a creamy, cheesy pasta, because it’s the best comfort food--and her eyes brim with tears when she gets to hold Lykon again. She hasn’t been able to get a lot of time off work, even after becoming a new parent, which Joe thinks is frankly outrageous, but the work she does as a crisis counsellor is of course monumentally important.

They huddle around the couch to eat dinner, but Nicky pulls up one of the rickety chairs from the kitchen table and sits next to the baby, who is snoozing in his car seat on top of the coffee table. Joe doesn’t know how he does it, but Nicky manages to eat his dinner, drink enough water, and hold a conversation while keeping Lykon’s car seat rocking gently so he doesn’t wake up and scream.

Joe watches him as he chews his pasta mindfully and leans close to peer into the car seat. Beautiful. He’s always so beautiful, especially now. The way he looks at Lykon--their nephew, Joe realizes, elated--makes Joe’s head spin off his shoulders. He feels like he’s twenty.

“Crazy how tiny he is,” says Quỳnh, her voice soft and reverent. She already sounds so much like a parent. Joe’s eyes are still on his husband, so he sees how brightly Nicky smiles at that.

Andy makes an indignant noise. “Shut the fuck up.”

Quỳnh laughs, though she tries with obvious effort to keep quiet. She pulls Andy closer, her arm draped over her shoulder, and presses three kisses to her cheek. Then Quỳnh catches Joe’s eye and winks.

Andy shovels another forkful of pasta into her mouth and moans as she chews. With a full mouth, she says, “Joe, this is perfect. Please, boys, never leave.”

Joe shrugs bashfully, pretending to be shy. “It’s Nicky’s recipe.”

“What did you use,” Quỳnh asks.

Joe hums. He juts his chin to the kitchenette. “Your parmesan, mostly, and that fancy milk.”

“What fancy milk,” Andy asks, absolutely stuffing her face.

“Y’know.” Joe waves a hand. Chews, swallows. “The milk in the fancy bag, from the fridge.”

Andy and Quỳnh both stop eating, their eyes bugging out. Quỳnh slaps a hand over her mouth, poorly hiding a laugh and clearly choking a little, and Andy looks… Oh, Andy looks furious. Her face is red.

“J-” She forcefully lowers her voice, shooting a fearful glance at the baby. “Joe,” she whispers through her teeth. “Did you use my fucking breast milk?”

“Dio.” Nicky sticks his fork back into his dish.

“Oh,” Joe says, like an idiot. “Um.”

Andy’s cheeks puff out and somehow her face turns an even darker shade of red.

“I pumped…” she whispers, low and lethal, slow. “...For so… long…”

“There’s more in the fridge, babe,” Quỳnh says, and Joe fears for her life for a hot second. Then she brings her hand out to hover over Andy’s chest. “And it’s not like the tap is running dry, or whatever.”

“So I’m a milk bag.”

“A badass, sexy milk bag who--oh, who is murdering me with her eyes right now.” Quỳnh turns on Joe, then, scooping another forkful of breast-milk-pasta into her mouth and jabbing the fork in his direction. “You’re gonna be up all night paying my wife back for this, genius. See how skilfully you can wipe meconium from his bum.”

Joe only nods in shame. Fair enough.

Lykon signals that he’s awake, then, with a series of soft little snorty grunts that devolve very quickly into shrieking, wobbly sobs. Nicky launches into action with a speed that rivals the pitcrews at NASCAR. He lifts him from the car seat with such gentleness and oh, Joe’s heart breaks to see the baby’s little lips trembling as he cries, the way his little feet kick out against Nicky’s chest as he holds him over his forearms. Nicky is about to pass him to his moms when Quỳnh smiles softly up at him and says, “Looks like you’ve got him.”

He throws her a glance as if to ask, are you sure, and Quỳnh and Andy both nod. Joe’s sure they’re grateful to have the small amount of rest time and, looking at them now, curled together on the couch in their soft clothes, exchanging light kisses, he knows he and Nicky haven’t come close to overstaying their welcome.

“Look at you, Nico,” coos Andy as Nicky carefully holds the baby against his shoulder to peek at his diaper through the waistband his tiny pants. “You’re making us look bad.”

Nicky only chuckles lightly and shakes his head. The diaper must be clean, because he leaves it be and brings a hand up to cup the back of the baby’s wispy-haired head more steadily, and begins to hum, almost a whisper, and Joe’s heart flutters.

“Do you think he’s hungry?” Nicky asks Andy when the baby continues to fuss.

Turns out he is hungry, because he quiets almost immediately when Andy brings him to her chest. It’s not silent in the apartment--Joe can hear some sirens through the window on the streets far below, can hear the air conditioner groan to life, can hear Quỳnh and Nicky’s forks clink against their plates as they continue to eat the questionable breast-milk-pasta (good lord). And, Joe can hear the soft little grunts and snorts that the baby makes as he feeds.

Joe watches his oldest friends--they’re parents now, he can hardly believe it--as they huddle close on the couch and watch their son. Quỳnh wraps her arms under Andy’s so they’re both holding him, and his little chubby fist twitches and flings out every once in a while against Andy’s rolled-up shirt. His feet look impossibly small. Joe remembers the sounds he made when he and Nicky went shopping for all manner of baby supplies to help shave some stuff off Andy and Quỳnh’s list. He’d nearly sobbed when Nicky came up to the cart holding a pair of incredibly tiny socks (and then he had teared up and nearly passed out when Nicky popped the socks over his thumbs. A lot of people stared).

Joe would be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t been thinking of revisiting that store with Nicky every day since.

Now, he looks at his husband to find him already watching him, his heart in his eyes. Nicky slowly moves his gaze to their friends, to the baby, and Joe follows it. When their eyes meet again, Nicky’s are a little damp with tears, but he’s smiling, and there’s something inquisitive and hopeful in his eyes. Joe matches him and slowly, they both nod.

Yes.

#2000 words is not a ficlet sig. i digress #tog #the old guard #tog fic #anyway i am very very very shy about this #might do more with it. idk bébés make me happy. and i don't usually write aus but that could change #sage writes #i promise joe and nicky aren't going to steal andy and quỳnh's baby i just realized how it almost looks like that rip #anyway i'm shy now byeee <3

[soramei]

Intentional - Part 5

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?

Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn

Warnings: cursing, eventual smut

Word Count: 4.0k

Masterlist

A/N: yeah so about that upload... i was really busy this whole week but i hope to start uploading mondays again! thanks for understanding!!

Taglist (reply to be tagged!): @planetdemon​ @hvunvely​ @fluffybitch0325​ @fashi0nablee @juststop88 @straykisz @theultimaterad @margaritas-en-la-montania @meowtella

There was a pause in the phone call.

You started biting your nails, instantly regretting what you had just done. Basking in your stupidity, you could only wait for his response, for it was too late to retract what you had just said. Your day must have been worse than you thought. It must have been so bad that you had the nerve to ask Bang Chan — an idol, a person with a strict schedule, somebody who you had an argument with — to come over to your pathetic little apartment.

You kept nibbling on your fingers.

“I’ll get my jacket.”

You froze, eyes wide.

“Huh?” You were bewildered. You weren’t even expecting an answer, much less this.

“It’s cold this late at night,” he explained, “I’ll be there soon.”

You didn’t know what to say. You heard rustling on the other side of the call.

“Wait, I’ll tell you my address,” you blurted out.

“You did,” he said.

You frowned, trying to remember if you did or not. That’s right. You blushed at the memory of your first day of work.

“Oh yeah, umm, I’ll hang up now.” You awkwardly said, hanging up before Bang Chan could fit another word in.

You were a statue in your own apartment, clinging on to the last words exchanged on your phone. In actuality, you didn’t know why you asked him to come over. It was just blurted out in the moment. Or maybe it was a result of your extremely frustrating day. Either way, you felt extremely embarrassed that you did so, especially so late at night.

You started boiling some water, still trying to rationalize what you had just done. This was normal for friends, right? Na-eun and Yoojin came over just yesterday and you were friends with both of them. You knew for a fact that you two were friends, but you still couldn’t find an explanation for the strange feeling in your chest whenever you were around him.

Turning your phone on, you checked your face in the selfie camera. It was a miracle that your makeup didn’t smudge off. You thanked your new ‘CLIO’ foundation cushion, it looked like all that time you spent doing your makeup didn’t go to waste. You stared at your reflection for a couple more seconds before turning your phone off. Why did it matter what you looked like anyways? You wiped off any remaining lipstick with the back of your hand.

The kettle started rumbling, letting you know that the water was ready. You took out your mug to prepare some tea. It was a bad idea to have tea this late at night, but there was something about your mother’s tea that could knock a grown man out.

Sipping your tea, you turned on Youtube to an episode of a Korean web-drama that was getting really popular. It was another one with some rich CEO and a clumsy average girl, but you still watched, fully enamoured. On the recommendations list, there was a video with Felix — the other person you saw at the cafeteria on your first day — on the thumbnail. I can never escape from work, you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes.

You clicked on it anyways, just to pass the time. Watching through the video, you were shocked by the production value. Well, that, and Bang Chan. Whether it was hair and makeup or just his acting, he was so different from the person you knew in real life. You were in awe by his natural charisma gleaming at you through the screen as it was a rare quality that few people you knew possessed. Embarrassingly, you found your eyes drawn to only him in every group shot. He looked good in an apron.

You got distracted by more random videos before clicking back on your drama. The next episode was just about to start when the buzzer to your apartment rang.

It was Bang Chan.

Hurriedly, you shuffled towards your door. With your hand on the handle, you took a deep breath before opening the door.

“Hey,” you smiled.

“Hey,” he smiled back. He was leaning over you, his forearm on the doorframe. His coat was bulky, almost engulfing his whole upper body. He was wearing the same beanie you saw on multiple occasions, and in his hand was a white plastic bag.

You stepped aside, silently gesturing for him to come inside. He took your hint and sauntered in the room, head turning left and right to observe his surroundings.

“It’s not much,” you blushed, realizing how small your apartment really was. You could basically see all your belongings from the center of the room.

“No, it’s cute.” Bang Chan looked at you, taking his hat off. His dimple peaked out. “I brought some leftovers from that barbecue place. The kids and I went there after our shoot today.”

So that was what the bag was. With only food on your mind, you rushed to help hang Bang Chan’s coat before setting the table up.

The food was really good. They were leftovers, but it was so good. Stuffing a bite of pork belly in your mouth, you sighed. Where was this food earlier today?

“It’s good, right?” Bang Chan asked whilst chewing on a piece of meat. “I’ll take you next time.”

It was like he read your mind. You nodded eagerly in response, to which Bang Chan replied with a smirk.

“So, uh,” he scratched the back of his neck, “how was your date today?”

You rolled your eyes, not wanting to remember that embarrassment of a night. It was such a pity too, because that man was probably the most gorgeous man you’ve ever witnessed. You swore he had just stepped out of a webtoon when you first met him.

“It was alright,” you shrugged. It was difficult to reflect on the date without putting a damper on your mood, but maybe vocalizing it would have helped ease your discomfort. “He compared me to a model, you know.”

Bang Chan chuckled, making you look up in confusion.

“Was it because you looked exactly like the model?”

“No,” you replied.

His face immediately fell. “You’re kidding, right? Y/n, tell me you don’t believe anything that loser said. He’s got to be something below garbage if he was comparing two women.”

“Thanks, Chan.” You tried to force a grin on your face. “I appreciate it.”

There was a pause.

“I know my opinion means nothing, but Y/n, I think you’re beautiful.”

You stared into Bang Chan’s eyes, frozen like a statue. Your heart was beating so loud that you could hear it more than you could feel it. He stared back at you from across the table; mouth parted, breaths uneven.

You’ve received many compliments before, to which you would always reply with a smile and a quick ‘thank you’. However, it felt as if your brain malfunctioned in this moment and your heart was the only thing keeping you alive. You could still feel your body, but you couldn’t think.

“Thank you, Chan.” You awkwardly coughed, blushing profusely. Immediately focusing your eyes at the table, you couldn’t bear to keep looking at him.

The two of you ate in silence, with only the tapping of chopsticks adding to the ambience of the room. You wanted to make conversation with him, but you did not want to be the first one to break the silence. It frustrated you that you were so shy right now as you’ve never been like this back home.

To heck with it, you thought. There was no need to be shy around him.

“So,” you still couldn’t look him in the face, “any shows you’ve been watching lately?”

Small talk was good. You could do small talk.

“Actually, I’ve been wanting to watch this Transformers movie for quite a while.”

“Transformers?” You’ve never heard of that one. It must’ve been an American movie.

“Seriously?” his eyes widened. “You’ve never seen Transformers before? Oh, we’ve gotta watch it now.”

“You wanna?” you smiled. “I haven’t used my TV since moving in.”

“Mhm, let’s do it.” He stuffed the rest of the leftovers in his mouth before standing up and clearing the table.

You watched him clear the table in a trance. You should have offered to help since it was your own home, but watching the veins on his hands appear and disappear was way more interesting. Watching him, you suddenly remembered the hoodie.

“Oh, that’s right!” You exclaimed, shuffling over to the bag with the hoodie in it. Taking Bang Chan’s black hoodie out, you held it up to him with both hands.

He looked down at you and chuckled.

“Keep it,” he took it from your hands and slipped the hoodie over your head. “At least until you buy a new jacket.”

“I will.” You rolled the sleeves of his hoodie higher to show your hands. You turned the light off, leaving only the floor lamp to illuminate your apartment. Grabbing the remote from your coffee table, you summoned Bang Chan over to the couch.

You turned on the TV, fooling around with the remote control for a few seconds before giving up.

“I give up.” You sighed. Pouting, you handed the remote over to Bang Chan. He took it from you and started reading the buttons.

“Netflix, right?” Bang Chan asked, to which you nodded. “There we go.”

He scrolled through the titles, looking for the coveted movie. Once he found the movie, he quickly selected it and turned the subtitles on. That was nice of him, you thought. Although you also studied english in university, it was nowhere near the level of watching a full english movie.

The title sequence started and you tried to immerse yourself in the movie. You watched in awe, surprised at the fast pace of the action already.

Fully engrossed, you started to sink your back into the couch. Half-way throughout the title scene, you felt Bang Chan stretch his arm behind you to rest on the back pillow. Suddenly, you started feeling too aware of your surroundings. You sat up straighter.

Throughout the whole movie, you caught wafts of Bang Chan’s cologne everytime he moved. He smelled like safety and familiarity.

You turned your head up a little to get a glimpse of his profile, mapping out every edge and curve of his face. The light illuminated the tip of his nose, along with his dewy cheekbones and chin. The plum of his lips were let slightly open, allowing his teeth to peek out slightly. You unconsciously let out a sigh.

“Something wrong?” He turned his body to face you.

You shook your head and focused on the movie.

The rest of the movie was pretty good, although it lost you at parts. You watched the end credits in silence, not knowing what to say.

“So,” Bang Chan cleared his throat beside you, “I should get going now. Since it’s late.”

You turned your head to face him, not realizing how close the two of you had physically gotten throughout the movie. Looking up at him, your face was inches away from his. His face was almost enveloped by the darkness of your apartment. You heard his breathing get heavier.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, “you should.”

He didn’t get up though.

You heard his staggered breath as you kept looking in his eyes. The end credits had long been over by now. Your own breath was just as shaky and you heard your heart beat out of your chest.

He started leaning in. Slowly.

Your eyes widened. You gulped, your nerves snapped you back to reality all of a sudden. Wasn’t he supposed to be your friend? This wasn’t what friends did… Right?

Clearing your throat, you leaned back shyly.

“You should go. I don’t want the others to notice you’re gone.”

Silence.

“Yeah.” Bang Chan’s lips flattened in a line. Without another word, he stood up and walked towards your door.

You followed him in silence, hoping to at least send him off. Wrapping your arms around your torso, you watched as he put his boots on in the dark. He tied his laces, and with a nod, he opened the door and stepped out.

You were left with a sour taste in your mouth and a cloudiness in your head. Still standing in front of your door, you tried to process what had just happened. However, you couldn’t. All you could think about was the soft curls of his hair, the delicate threads of his eyelashes, and his lips. The dusty rose of his lips. The parting of his lips. Inviting you in.

You were frozen, looking at nothing particularly. The only thing on your mind was Bang Chan.

The door opened.

“Hey, sorry, I forgot my jack-”

His sentence never got a chance to complete itself as you rushed to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. As your lips touched his, you felt a fire ignite in you like nothing you’ve felt before. Your fingers clawed at the nape of his neck, wanting more. Wanting to be closer.

Almost immediately, Bang Chan responded. He was taken by shock at first, but his hands didn’t waste any time to grip your waist. You felt the muscles of his shoulders tighten as he pulled you closer.

He moved you back into your apartment by the waist, lips never leaving your own. You blindly shuffled backwards, only focused on trying to get closer to him. If that was even possible.

You ignored the clunking of his boots against your clean floor, allowing him to guide you to the couch. A whimper left his lips as you used your hand to comb through his hair, pulling it. His soft brown curls were silk against your fingertips.

The back of your legs hit the couch and he turned you around so he could sit on the couch. Your lips finally left his. You gasped for air, trying to steady your deep breaths.

Bang Chan’s breathing was synchronized with yours, his equally as unsteady. He reached his hands out again, grabbing your waist and pulling you on top of him. You were a ragdoll, responding to whatever he wanted to do to you.

With each knee on either side of him, you gripped his jaw and kissed him again. The fire inside of you instantly reignited. It was addicting.

The two of you didn’t dare to separate from each other, only parting to gasp for air every now and then. Even in the dark, you could imagine the plum of his lips and the threads of his eyelashes. This drove the fire in you more.

“What if the boys realize you’re gone?” you breathed out the next time you parted from his lips. They were most likely sleeping, but the thought still worried you.

“Fuck them.” Bang Chan exhaled. Grabbing the back of your neck, he reconnected his lips with yours. You gladly complied.

His sloppy kisses slowly moved from your lips to your jaw, then to your neck, eliciting a soft whimper from your throat. This seemed to only edge him on as kept leaving sloppy kisses against your neck, all the while running his hands up and down your waist.

His cologne surrounded you, keeping you safe. Soon later, the adrenaline left the two of you, leaving only the sound of heavy breathing to fill the room. You brushed your thumb under his eye to which he deeply inhaled.

“Chan?” you said. He was leaving kisses all over your collarbone.

“Hmm?” He didn’t seem to pay much mind to what you were saying.

“It’s half past three. I really think you should get going.” You didn’t want him to leave, but you were almost sure he had another packed schedule for tomorrow.

“Mhmm.” Your words went in one ear and out the other as he made his way up your neck again. You couldn’t help but close your eyes and let out a small moan.

“C’mon, get up. How did you even get here, by the way?” It took everything in you to break away from his touch, but you were starting to get sleepy.

“Taxi.” He said, helping you get up from his lap. He stood up after you, brushing his hand against your waist one last time before making his way over to his jacket.

“You’re allowed to ride a taxi?” You tilted your head, sceptical.

He slipped his jacket on.

“No.” He peppered little kisses on your cheeks. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that now.”

You giggled, pushing him by his shoulders out the door. He played along, pretending to stumble with every step he took back.

“Text me when you get home,” you said, repeating what he said to you on your first day of work.

He nodded in response and winked before turning around to head home. As soon as the door shut, you slapped both hands against your face. Your little act of impulse had spun your head in spirals. You didn’t know whether to feel relieved at the fact that Bang Chan reciprocated your impulsive actions, or to worry that you had not only just kissed your coworker — but also a freaking idol. No one — not Manager Chen, your friends, or even anyone in the general public — could know about this. If they did, both your careers would be screwed.

You doted on this thought as you got ready for bed, only the worst possible outcome came to mind. If either your manager or his manager knew about what happened tonight, you could get fired. Or even blacklisted. You sat in bed, nervously biting your nails.

Your phone buzzed.

Bang Chan: Hey, I got home. Nobody’s awake… ^^

Bang Chan: Don’t think too much, alright? It’s late, go to sleep…

You felt relief reading his text. For some reason, he knew you were overthinking your actions. You decided to listen to his words and go to sleep.

The next day, Sunday, was very uneventful compared to the day before. You texted Bang Chan back when you woke up, but because of his busy schedule, he hadn’t had the time to reply yet.

Yoojin called in when you were eating lunch, asking about your date. You told her the truth, explaining how there would definitely not be a second date with that man. She sounded disappointed and vehemently tried to set you up with another man in her pool. You politely declined, thinking about your restless night with Bang Chan.

You finished some work ahead of time to free up the next week. Since you were invited to work with Manager Chen at the content shooting, you assumed that you could lessen your work stress ahead of time.

The shooting days were allocated for Friday and Saturday, with there being an overnight stay at the mountains. Whilst you didn’t know the arrangements for Stray Kids, you were informed that the production crew booked a small lodge for the team. You were excited to not only see a behind the scenes of a real shoot, but to also possibly form a closer relationship with Manager Chen.

You were thankful that you did some work ahead of time as Monday’s workload was so much lighter than usual. People were still coming to you with their ideas for the project, but with your other work done, you had the time to go through everybody’s ideas.

You didn’t hear from Bang Chan the whole day, which was nothing out of the blue. You remembered him showing his schedule to you once. The amount of things he had to do everyday had your eyes bulging out from their sockets. All of a sudden, you were thankful for your nine-to-five job.

The next couple of days ran the same way as your Monday, with you easily breezing through your workload. Since you had more time during your breaks at work, you took to exploring the part of the building that you could. You admired all the art, the trophies, the awards and memorabilia. Of course, you also spent more time with your new friend Na-eun.

On Thursday, the day before the shoot, you were helping the producers by translating some notes for the script. All was going smoothly, when you got a text.

It was from Bang Chan.

You weren’t going to lie; you were curious as to what he sent you. He was basically silent the whole week so far, and if you were being honest, you missed hearing his voice. And seeing his face. And feeling his hands brush against your waist.

Bang Chan: Come to my recording room… I’ve got something to show you.

Your eyes lit up right away, curious as to what he wanted to show you. Quickly checking the time, you decided to take your lunch break then and there. After all, you didn’t have much work left for the day anyways.

Locking up your computer, you zoomed inconspicuously past all the other cubicles and made your way to the elevators. You weaved through the hallways of his floor, praying that your memory didn’t escape you. It seemed like your memory was on your side today as you found yourself in front of a familiar set of doors. You didn’t bother to knock before going in.

Inside was Bang Chan: feet up on the desk, drinking from his iced coffee, concentrating on his producing software. You smiled. He looked so comfortable, even in an ‘office’.

He had his headset in, and didn’t seem to notice that you had entered. You went up behind him and tapped his shoulder. He turned around, and immediately threw his feet off the desk and stood up upon seeing that it was you. You smirked.

“I should really put a ‘please knock’ sign on the door.” He cursed under his breath. He reached behind you to close the door.

You giggled.

“So, what do you have to show me?” you wondered aloud.

“A new song. Since the filming is tomorrow, the producers put me on a time crunch to finish the song by today.”

So that was why he was so busy, you thought. You didn’t realize how the sudden filming would have impacted his schedule for the month. Especially since it would take up two whole days.

He let you sit in his chair, and hovered over you to press play on the song. His chair smelled like his cologne.

As he was playing the song, your eyes drifted up to see his face. The face — even after only four days — you missed. The dark circles under his eyes were prominent. That, along with his disheveled hair, told you that he truly was dedicated to his work. You imagined him sitting where you were, two in the morning, sipping on his iced americano.

“You like it?” His eyes drifted towards you, resembling a puppy bringing a ball back to its owner.

“It’s amazing. I don’t know how you managed this in just a few days,” you said. And you were sincere too. You couldn’t imagine yourself doing any of this.

“Eh, you know, late nights.” he shrugged. “Wanna see another?”

You nodded, and the two of you began listening to another one of his songs. You listened in silent wonderment.

However, the silence didn’t last long as the two of you soon found yourselves on the couch: hands all over each other, lips the same. You were lying underneath him, his arms resting on either side of you to hold his weight up. Your lips never left his as you ran your hands up and down his defined biceps.

The two of you couldn’t stay away from each other. The sound of the songs that he had put on shuffle filled the room, along with a fleeting sigh of moan every now and then. Bang Chan’s hand had started wandering up your blouse when, all of a sudden, the door opened.

“Hey, I have the lyrics h-” He stopped mid-sentence, eyes wide.

Crap.

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #stray kids angst #bang chan angst #skz scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan fanfiction

[kyloswarstars]

ROOMMATES • Part 2

Divergent • College AU • Eric x Reader

ROOMMATES masterlist 💫 Divergent masterlist

You escaped your current living situation by moving in with your friend Christina – and five other college students. Little did you know that one of them was the guy who was your ultimate pain in the neck since your first semester. Now, you had to find a way to not strangle him in his sleep out of pure frustration. Also, you had to find a way to get rid of those weird butterfly feelings for him that slowly grew in your stomach.

Words • 2k

The enemies to lovers story no one needed.

/////

The donut shop had air conditioning. It was pure heaven. A donut shop was heaven to you 365 days a year anyways. The AC, though… yes.

Christina chewed on her third blue glazed donut and refused to answer your questions. First, she refused. Then, she tried to talk her way out of it. In the end, she mentioned the friendship code, which applied in this case to Eric, and therefore she couldn’t say anything.

The confusion was real. You didn’t understand anything when most of the time you always understood everything. Following things you knew:

A) Eric always entangled you in debates. Sometimes it was a civil exchange, most of the times he got your blood boiling until you were close to lose your temper. This happened in class and other college surroundings, where you talked about a study related topic.

B) Until last week you always thought it was because of his ego and pure strive to demonstrate his intellect why he went for, at some point, the silliest of statements you had ever heard.

C) You also thought he did it just to piss you off.

D) Then last week happened. Then this afternoon happened and left you entirely confused.

E) Christina must know another reason why Eric constantly sought for an academic dispute. His statement from a couple hours ago, that there was ‚no reason‘, was highly suspicious. But Chris also didn’t tell you the reason.

F) That only led you to one, logical guess on what that unsaid reason could be.

„Is this about him having a long planned strategy to become the number one student of our year?“ Him seeing you as a serious competition to that title was the only reason you could think of. It wasn’t too odd of an assumption since after all those debates, silly statements or not, he was one of the smartest guys you had met so far.

Chris swallowed a bit of her new donut. Donut number four. „He isn’t in our year.“

You had sipped on your milkshake and instantly looked up. „What do you mean?“ Having to ask that question again frustrated you.

„That he’s way past us. He just finished his third year of medical school.“

„Excuse me?“ You got up from your seat and started wandering around the empty donut shop. „I’m surprised my body hasn’t taken the form of a question mark yet,“ you slowly talked yourself into a frenzy. „Christina, you’re telling me that Eric, who keeps pissing me off in two of my classes, for the last two years, isn’t even in my year? That he’s studying to become a doctor?“ Please behold me from chopping off a finger or something and him helping me.

She looked a little guilty for not giving you more information. Also a little amused.

„I am studying to become a damn mathematician. Why on earth would a medical student attend those classes?“

Christina had the audacity to laugh out loud. „I’m sorry, Y/N.“ Karma came around instantly and made her choke on a piece of donut for a few seconds. You hurried over to harshly pat her back until she coughed it out. „All I know is,“ she was still gasping for air, „he sometimes takes random classes for fun. Or for one of his big assignments.“

That was all. You wouldn’t get any further information. She crossed her arms and ignored all of your remaining questions. At least she left the donut shop with a stomachache and you knowing that Eric wasn’t even a math student.

/////

Once a week all roommates had at least one dinner together. ‚To strengthen the community‘ Uriah mumbled to you while you helped him turn the groceries, he and Chris had bought today, into a prober dish. Rice with a lot of veggies was the meal for tonight.

You were the last one to sit down and were surprised, and a little nervous, to find Eric sitting in the spot across from yours. He must’ve come home while you were still concentrating on not letting the veggies burn to death.

Christina hardly ate anything after her five donuts. Being a reasonable adult, you only had one donut at the shop.

„Who chose to put mushrooms in there?“ Eric didn’t look too glad when his fork discovered a tiny mushroom.

„Me,“ you stated, not afraid to have another silly debate. This time probably about how mushrooms shouldn’t be harvested because it takes away a food supply for deers.

„Next time just roast it short. Don’t turn it into these rubber–“

„Shut up, Eric.“ Four intervened. „Be glad someone made dinner.“

Exactly. You smiled at Four for his backup and continued eating. Even though you highly concentrated on the bowl in front of you, your eyes occasionally moved to Eric, to see if he had found another thing he disliked about the meal. And every single time his eyes met with yours.

This dinner wasn’t like all the previous ones you had here since moving in. It was unusually quiet. Everyone headed pretty fast into their rooms after finishing up and collectively cleaning the dishes.

Eric lingered around and was actually the last one to help you with putting back the plates and cutlery to where they belonged. You leaned to the countertop and tried not to stare too obviously when he stretched to place some glasses on the top shelf. He wore a t-shirt where he must’ve cut off the sleeves and the way his arm muscles moved, with every glass he put on that shelf, should be forbidden.

What? Oh man. That you caught yourself thinking that way, even though Eric didn’t notice it because he was still occupied with the dishes, made you feel uncomfortable in your own skin. You hid your hands in your pockets to act casual. That’s when you noticed one of the many papers that were spread in nearly every clothing pocket and backpack of yours.

One of the many habits – coping mechanisms, actually – you had, was to write down unsolved problems in mathematics and brood over them whenever your brain was close to panic itself into a breakdown. To sit down and concentrate on a problem and search for a possibility to solve it, was what got you to study the most hated subject in the first place.

You pulled the paper out and checked what it referred to. The Riemann zeta function.

You tried to recall if any of the many debates with Eric ever had been about mathematics. They had never been about math at all you realised. The classes he had gone to were the social orientated ones. Those, where you discussed scenarios and ways on how to solve problems with a mathematical solution. Or at least help out along the way. And the debates were mostly about the logical or philosophic aspects. The reason why it had always been so easy for Eric to pull you into those discussions was because you didn’t study mathematics just for the sake of it. You didn’t want to become only a professor to teach others about it. You wanted to help people with all the abilities math provided. For example the study you worked on right now: a mathematical model to predict the success of immunotherapy for patients with cancer.

This is perfect.

There was no way Eric could enter a serious debate about the zeta function and not show that he studied something completely different. With a grin on your lips you cleared your throat to get his attention. Eric crossed his arms as he turned to you.

The game is on.

„Since you know everything better than me, and us living under the same roof now, I was wondering if you would take a look at some equations. I’m kinda stuck.“

Something in his face changed but he still said: „Sure.“

That’s a mistake, my friend. You handed him the paper, which he had to unfold his arms for again to take it. Those arms were bigger than the pile of books next to your mattress. Why did you never notice his muscles before? And why did you never notice that sharp jawline?

The concentration on his face didn’t give away that he had absolutely no clue what was on that paper. Time did. A minute or two went by without him looking up or saying a word. „That seems like a serious problem. I’m passing.“

„What are you studying again?“ Your voice as innocent as you could manage it to be.

„Why would you ask?“ He played it off. The crooked smile on his lips let you know he had a feeling for where this conversation would go, though.

„Because someone studying mathematics, like I do, would recognise the famous zeta function whose solution would earn you a reward of one million dollars.“

„I never said I study mathematics, Y/N.“ Eric grinned like you were the fool here. Like you had overseen something big. Like your little trap hadn’t worked.

„But you attend four full semesters of classes that aren’t necessary? Are you having such a big problem with me that you just can’t stay away?“ His stupid grin made it worse. That rage came rushing in because those ludicrous disputes sometimes had you thinking you were a complete idiot. „I mean no normal person would take those two extra classes for four solid semesters on top of damn medical classes. What’s wrong with you?“

„I like the extra knowledge.“ He simply stated, snapped a bottle of water from the countertop and slowly made his way down the hallway to his room. „And debating with you.“

/////

For your own wellbeing, and not to flip every time you thought about Eric being the biggest prick on this earth, you decided he was just a little sadist. Who had probably his only fun by infuriating you. You were glad to know about that hobby of his now and could focus on the more important things in life until next semester.

He just didn’t make it easy at all. Living under the same roof had diverted the debates from class to the dining table. Plus it had added a lot of other intentional disturbance on his part.

For a while you tried to just ignore it because he was a sadist, as you declared. On the other hand he exactly got what he had aimed at. Your anger.

„Eric,“ you shouted at the wall, knowing very well that he could hear you because you heard perfectly fine what kind of little movie he was watching. It paused for a few seconds and you breathed out in relief. Then it started again. So you raised your voice another time. „Use damn headphones!“

The only thing that happened was Uriah peeking his head in your room, with some incredibly high raised eyebrows. „Are you okay?“

„I am not.“ You buried your face in your hands. „Eric is watching porn and I can’t concentrate,“ you stated in despair.

„I’ll handle it,“ he smiled and was fast to knock at Eric’s door and enter his room after a ‚come in‘. They discussed for a while and Uriah gave you a thumbs up as he passed your room on his way back to the kitchen. Problem solved? Sounded like it. No noise from the other side of the room anymore.

The newest data had come in for the study this morning and you didn’t get anywhere yet. You just hadn’t been able to because of… picturing Eric watching porn. Ban it from your consciousness. With another deep breath, you started working in the newest data and focus only on your task. And it worked for a couple of minutes. Until Eric decided not to use headphones anymore and his porn noises echoed through the wall again.

I will strangle him in his sleep one night.

/////

A/N • I'm enjoying this way too much so there will soon be another update. probably next weekend. ok bye

Taglist • @longlostinanotherworld

Wanna get tagged too for future updates? Lemme know 🖤

#divergent #insurgent #eric #eric coulter #divergent eric #divergent eric coulter #divergent eric fanfiction #divergent eric imagine #eric x reader #eric coulter x reader #eric coulter fanfiction #eric coulter imagine #divergent eric x reader #divergent fanfiction #divergent imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #imagine #college au #kyloswarstars

[say-the-name-sebongie]

Princely Problems

Synopsis: Where a princess-love-story-unbeliever meets a prince-like gentleman named Joshua

Pairing: Joshua x fem!reader

Genre: tiny bit angst, fluff somewhere at the end

Warnings: drinking, harassment, violence

Word Count: 3k words

Fairytales were fictional. _____ had already had that down. Princes that saved princesses from abnormally high towers or mad dragons didn’t exist and love stories weren’t what Disney had made them to be. Those fictional movies just made little girls hope for something that could never exist: a perfect love story

Out of all the relationships she had been in, not one of them proved to have a Disney-like fairytale happy ending. In fact, none of them had happy endings. Men only pretended to be princes that would swoop in to save you when you needed it. But even that façade only lasted so long. Men only wanted you for a night, a month, or not at all.

This was why _____ wasn’t fazed (or as fazed as she would like to admit) when the epitome of gentle princely men knelt down beside her, asking if she was okay after her fall on the sidewalk from running too fast to catch a cab to work. He didn’t seem to care that some strands of his perfectly styled hair had fallen down over his eyes as he looked over her for any injuries.

“I’m fine, seriously.” She said as she got up while holding onto the lamppost beside her and pretending not to notice that the guy had held out his hand to help her, taking note that her left ankle was definitely sprained. The boy’s doe-like eyes looked into hers and it took all of _____’s willpower not to nervously swallow under his stare.

“My name’s Joshua and I don’t think you’re okay.” The boy— Joshua— said as he slipped an arm behind her and led her to one of the houses nearby.

“What the heck! Where are you taking me?” _____ panicked. Joshua just laughed, the sun shining on his glorious face as he threw his head back. “This is my house and no, I’m not going to do anything to you. I’ll leave the door unlocked and open if that makes you feel safer but that sprained leg needs to be iced.”

Needless to say, the boy made this “prince” thing look very natural.

Over the next few days, Joshua continued to keep up his princely façade. It was like he was actually born from royalty. The amount of grace and politeness that exuded from his form made _____ gag. He was almost too perfect. Everything he did was considered kind. Helping old ladies cross the street, holding the door open to let the pregnant lady into the shop, carrying groceries for that old man that lived at the end of the street, and basically any action kind and princely. He was just mortifyingly nice.

Not only that but he was mortifyingly nice even to _____ who turned down his many attempts to be of service to her. She didn’t let him open the door for her when they coincidentally went to the same café, grabbing the door handle along with him to open it herself. Nor did she let him help her change her car tire. _____ was fooled once, okay maybe more than once but she wasn’t going to be fooled again. Not by a guy who pretended to be nice. Not by some kind boy who lived a few houses over and made her heart do parkour routines in her chest every time they met. Not by Joshua, and that was final.

So far, Joshua hadn’t gotten tired of her refusals. He was still as nice as he was when they had first met. _____ pitied the girl who would fall for him. There weren’t a lot of people who wouldn’t believe that Joshua was just pretending.

“Joshua sure is one good actor,” she mumbled to herself as she walked.

“You should wear a jacket if you’re going out today.” Speak of the devil. _____ turned around and saw the embodiment of princely behavior graciously standing with a leaf blower in his hands, yard nearly rid of any leaves that had recently started falling. “It's autumn now so the nights are gonna be colder.”

She didn’t miss the way his eyes drifted to her legs, exposed by the short dress she was wearing, before coming back up to rest on her face. Typical men. They just can’t help themselves can they, _____ thought scoffed. The neighborhood prince’s face was contorted with worry as if he was afraid that she’d get cold. _____ gave a laugh in response. “I can take care of myself.” She told him before going her way.

-----

Getting drunk was part of the plan. _____ had agreed to go out with her friends from work to get her mind off the angelic creature that had been reaching out and offering his help bothering and pestering her all week. The bar was full of people, music, and alcohol. No princes and no Joshua. Just what she needed tonight.

Her friends immediately went to the dance floor, their eyes wide open and hunting for someone to take home for the night. _____ sat at the bar and watched them as she took shot after shot, drowning any thoughts of Joshua. One shot. Princes didn't exist. Another shot. His real personality would show itself sooner or later. Shot glasses gathered up in front of her as she drank alcohol as if it was water.

"That's enough alcohol for you sweetheart. Why don't I take you outside for some fresh air?" An unfamiliar man's voice said. _____ turned to her right and saw a man reaching for her thigh, his oily hair slicked back and his wild eyes peering over her form. Even in her dunked stupor she noticed that he wasn't looking at her face but at her chest and thighs.

Disgusted, she pushed him away and stumbled to the dance floor in search of her friends. The man followed her closely, his invasive eyes never leaving her body. People bumped and pushed against her, making it hard to make an escape from the man. Soon enough _____ found herself stuck in the middle of the dance floor with the man pressing his pelvis against her back.

"Go away! " she tried to shout at him, but the loud music and chatter drowned out her cry. The man smiled behind her as his hands went lower towards the hem of her dress. _____ pushed hard against him and bolted out of the bar.

She ran out of the exit and was met with the ice-cold air of the night. That apparently was not enough to make the man stop pursuing her because he was still hot on her trail. Desperate to get away from the man, _____ managed to stumble to the main road when suddenly her heel got caught on a stone and she twisted her ankle rather painfully. The girl let out a loud cry of pain.

"Get up, hurry." a new male's voice came as the speaker's warm hands softly gripped her forearms, pulling her up. In the light of the moon, _____ looked up at Joshua’s face. His usually warm eyes were now boiling with anger as he stared at something behind her.

"Josh, my ankle," _____ whined, the alcohol hitting her again and momentarily forgetting that she didn’t want anything to do with Joshua tonight. Light and shadow blended together. The boy sighed and removed his jacket, wrapping it around her legs before positioning his arms around and under her to lift her up.

This was the first time that she had seen Joshua up close. Of course, every time he tried to come near her, she just pushed him away. Her eyes focused on the lines of his face as if it were a camera. He was so annoyingly nice and attractive that her heart started beating faster.

"Come in girlie, let's have some fun at my place." the man said as he came running towards _____. Joshua stood up protectively in front of her. If a fight broke out between him and the man, it was obvious Joshua would win. But the man was too blinded by his desire for pleasure to think straight. He barreled towards _____, reaching down to touch her when Joshua grabbed his arm, pulled him to eye level, and stared him down.

"Leave. Her. Alone." he threw the man to the ground and kicked him for good measure. It was surprising to see this side of Joshua. The warm man who seemed like he couldn't even hurt a fly was now inflamed with anger and beating up a stranger. The fire in his eyes didn’t subside even as he kicked the man over and over.

"Joshua, stop," _____ said as she reached up to tug on his shirt, letting out a yelp as she accidentally moved her ankle. Joshua looked back at her, his wide, warm, worrying eyes meeting hers as he came to her aid. "Don't beat him up, it's not worth it."

"Sorry, it's just that guys like him disgust me," he said as he scooped _____ up and headed off. She heard a car beep before he laid her in the passenger seat of his car. He then went to the driver's seat and started the car.

"You followed me?" _____ asked him, earning a smile from the man beside her. "I figured something would happen to you, especially in that dress." his warm, gentle voice washed over her. He looked up at her and winked. The girl rolled her eyes and looked out the window. Joshua was too attractive for her own good. _____ really had to get him out of her head or she might end up falling for a prince again.

-----

_____ woke up with the worst headache she had ever had in her life. She was still in the dress from last night, her foot bandaged and Joshua's jacket draped over her.

Joshua's jacket?

That woke her up. Clearly, she was in her house and sitting on her couch which meant that Joshua had come into her house but had the decency not to go into her room. The fact that she was still in her clothes from last night meant he hadn't tried to undress her.

Why did he have to be such a natural gentleman?

Getting up off the couch, _____ made her way to the kitchen where she found a post-it note sticking on the refrigerator door.

I put some of the hangover soup my mom made in here. Heat it up and eat that when you wake up. Call me if you need anything. - Shua

Below the last sentence was a series of numbers. _____ smiled and saved the number into her contacts. As much as she didn’t want to have anything to do with Joshua anymore, she would have to thank him sooner or later. She had to admit, he was really thoughtful to have done all this. The familiar warm bubbling in her chest from last night came back. _____ shook her head.

It's not real, _____. Don’t start falling for him now.

A knock on her door shook her out of her thoughts. The face of the prince greeted her when she opened it. His kind eyes immediately looked down at her injured foot before the scolding started.

"Why are you already walking around? You're injured, for goodness' sake." He demanded, grabbing her arms and pushing her back into the house.

"Joshua I- Wait-"

He dragged her inside and sat her back down on the couch. Joshua placed down the paper bag he was holding and went straight to the kitchen and brought out the hangover soup. _____ felt like her chest was about to burst. She knew this feeling and this was something she promised herself never to feel again.

He’s not a prince. He’s not a prince. He’s not a prince. He’s not a prince.

"Aren't you tired of pretending to be nice Joshua?" _____ huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest. The girl couldn't wait for Joshua to snap, to prove her wrong so she could go back to believing that Disney stories were plain fiction. With that, she would have enough reason to not like him and go back to her normal life.

"What do you mean pretending? This is how I always am though?" Joshua said, his head peeking out of the kitchen. When he saw that _____ wasn't convinced, he walked over to her and looked her in the eyes.

"Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?”

Feeling guilty, _____ looked down at the floor. To be perfectly honest, there was nothing Joshua had done that would ever even make her question his kindness. He has been nothing but kind to her and to everyone around him. However, her belief still stands.

“You should probably stop being so nice and princely to me. I don’t believe in those Disney movies that say men will sweep you off your feet and carry you to happily ever after. I’ve been through enough to know what men are truly like. I know you’re not Prince Charming and you can’t make me think otherwise.” _____ hissed before pulling him to the door.

“Thank you for bringing me home last night and for bringing me the soup but I’m not going to fall for another nice guy like you, Joshua.” And with that, she closed the door leaving a stunned Joshua staring at her peephole.

For the next few days, Joshua left _____ alone. No greeting when they passed each other on the street. Heck, it was like they didn’t even know each other. The boy continued to be of help and service to the other people in their neighborhood but he had cut all contact with _____.

The change made _____ happy. Her feelings for Joshua had faded away and she was able to go about her life without that fake prince tempting her with his sweet words and actions. Or so she would like to think.

After kicking Joshua out of her house, he invaded every second of her time. She couldn’t think of anything but him. _____ couldn’t admit it, but she missed having someone greet her in the morning on the way to work. She missed him coming over to her house once in a while to give her some mashed potatoes because he had made too much. The girl lay in bed at night haunted by the warmth of a person she had pushed out of her life. Though _____ wouldn’t admit it to anyone, she missed Joshua.

Christmas time came around and the snow had started piling up in her yard. Shoveling snow was the only thing she could do without thinking of the boy that lived a few houses over so she did it every time she could. _____ shoved piles of ice out of her yard banning all thoughts of princes and boys. It was just her, the shovel, and the ice. Right now, nothing matters, she thought to herself. Her shovel got stuck on a rather large chunk of ice. She pushed with all her might but the ice stubbornly stood its ground.

The sound of footsteps on the snow made her look up to see the very face she had been avoiding to see. Joshua was standing at the edge of her yard with a shovel in his hands. “Do you need help?”

His offer took _____ aback. This was the same guy she kicked out of her house a few weeks ago, right? The guy who she had called a fake. And here he was, offering his help to the girl who had done all that to him.

“It’s fine. I don’t want to bother you.” She gave a forced smile and hoped he would leave her alone after that.

I don’t want to have to kick you out of my life again.

The boy shrugged his shoulders. “You could never bother me _____. If it makes you feel better, you can help me shovel my yard too.”

Seeing that he was adamant about helping her, _____ gave in. The two worked side by side in silence. After finishing Joshua’s yard, he offered her some hot chocolate to which _____ only agreed to because her teeth were already chattering.

As she sat in his living room, looking around at the Christmas decorations already put up. A fire was roaring in the fireplace. She could hear the tinkling of the teaspoon hitting the mugs as Joshua mixed the hot chocolate.

“Don’t you hate me, Joshua?” _____ asked him, nervously fiddling with her hands on her lap.

The boy’s laugh rang in her ears, making her cheeks turn red. Weeks of trying to forget him went to waste as her feeling came back to the surface. “Why would I hate you?”

“Didn’t you get offended that I kicked you out of my house after you were only trying to be nice to me?”

“Of course, not. You had a perfectly good reason to be suspicious of me and I figured that you just needed time to sort your feelings out.” He handed _____ a glass of hot chocolate.

“Feelings?” Did she accidentally tell him something? _____ didn’t remember ever telling anyone, even her own friends, about how she felt for Joshua.

“You probably don’t remember but you’re kinda talkative when you’re drunk. Plus, you called me a prince that one time so it was safe to assume that you probably saw me that way.” _____ turned to the side to hide her blush. Curse the drinking habit she had to have.

“And for your information, I like you too,” he said, turning her head towards him and forcing _____ to meet his glittering eyes as the girl nervously swallowed. There was no turning back now, their feelings were out in the open. All that was needed was their decision on what to do with them.

“Give me a chance to prove you wrong, princess.”

#seventeen #svt #caratwritersclub #Hong Joshua #hong jisoo #joshua #seventeen imagines #seventeen oneshots #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic

[novelconcepts]

I have to say 17 (tugging on someone’s shirt) because these two thirsty thirsty women.

tugging on the bottom of someone’s shirt

“That,” Jamie points out with an eyebrow raised, “is not playing fair.”

She’s doing her best to sound serious, trying to reach for what she thinks of as Dani’s Teacher Voice. It’s an effective voice, when Dani utilizes it--effective, she thinks with a grin, in more ways than one--but she’s never quite been able to find the right inflection. Maybe it just fits more neatly in an American mouth. Maybe it’s that Jamie’s practice with standing her ground tends to involve more curse words and the occasional loaded weapon.

Maybe it’s just that there are things Jamie is not primed to win out against, and Dani looking at her this way ranks highest on the list.

“What’s not fair?” Dani is saying now. Her face is the picture of serenity--stretched out on the bed with the sheets pulled up, she could fool most people into thinking her innocence is genuine. Dani Clayton, well-meaning and sweet, cast across a Monday morning mattress.

Dani Clayton, whose hand is currently easing the carefully-tucked line of Jamie’s shirt out of her trousers, pushing it slowly up her stomach. 

“You do understand,” Jamie points out, standing with hands loose at her sides beside the bed, “the whole point of assigning a revolving schedule for mornings is so the shop does get opened on time. Because, if you’ll recall, it didn’t work so well with both of us.”

“Matter of opinion,” Dani says breezily. Fair enough, Jamie has to concede--maybe the shop didn’t open on time as often as was prudent, but the mornings spent lounging in bed--or in the shower--or lazily waking up the fun way while waiting for water to boil in the kitchen--had certainly not gone to waste.

Still. Business is good, and she’s not fool enough to think that’ll last if she keeps allowing Dani to--

Her eyes roll back, her breath catching; Dani has rucked the shirt halfway up her torso, is leaning off the mattress to kiss her stomach with deliberate intensity. It really isn’t fair, she thinks; she’d done so well this morning. Up well before her alarm. A wonderful shower, long enough to be enjoyable without actively making her late. She’d even dressed in the bathroom to prevent this very thing.

Dani’s arm is hooking around her waist, her hand insistent against Jamie’s back. She finds herself off-balance with one knee pressed into the mattress, her other foot stubbornly on the floor.  

“I was going to be early,” she says weakly, even as Dani is unbuttoning the shirt from the hem, moving steadily higher, following a trail of teasing licks. She’s sucking a small mark along Jamie’s ribs as her fingers notch open Jamie’s belt, and she’s grinning all the while. 

Honestly, it’s not like Jamie can be upset about it, either--and not just because her body is responding as it always has to Dani’s eagerness. This is, to put it plainly, the most alive Dani has been since leaving Bly. This, mornings like this one, is the most Dani she’s been in months. And it’s getting more frequent--not just Dani’s desire so openly on display, but everything that makes her so wonderful. Her laughter, filling a room. Her voice, pitching higher as she weaves stories over dinner prep. Her eyes, less and less terrified as the days stack up, finding Jamie’s with delight. 

Dani is coming back to herself. There are days, yes, where the panic takes hold--where the good humor recedes, replaced by the haunted expression of a woman carrying the unexplainable. But most of the time? Most mornings? 

Most of the time, it’s this. Dani, unbuttoning her shirt. Dani, sitting up, letting the sheet fall away from bare skin. Dani, reaching for her collar, pulling her down into a kiss so laced with urgency, there’s no point trying to argue. Jamie wouldn’t even want to win this kind of fight. 

“Boss’ll have words,” she mumbles into Dani’s kiss, even as Dani is pulling her down, climbing into her lap, driving both hands deep into her hair. “Gonna be consequences this time.”

“Counting on it,” Dani replies around the kind of long, wanton kisses Jamie’s never quite been able to resist. “Sort of like making the boss grumpy. Sort of like making the boss squirm, too.”

She’s laughing, biting at the lobe of Jamie’s ear, and it would be so easy to get hung up on the miracle of it. The miracle of Dani, finally, embracing the philosophy of treating every day on its own worth. The miracle of Dani finally easing back from the edge of whatever she’d been gazing down into when Jamie found her in that lake.

It would be so easy--except that wouldn’t look like living, would it? That would be just the same as Dani staring into mirrors, fascinated by her own fate. This is so much better.

This, flipping Dani over. This, laughing into her neck, knowing full well that they’re both going to be late yet again--and that it doesn’t matter, really. That all that truly matters is Dani’s skin beneath her hands, Dani pressing up into her kiss, Dani teasing, “Show me those consequences, then.”

She’ll be late. They both will. Maybe the shop will remain resolutely closed until noon, excuses made about shipment and inventory. It doesn’t matter. 

Dani, spread beneath her, murmuring her name as she slides beneath the sheets, matters. Dani, built up slowly, pleading for more even as she gives herself happily to Jamie’s easy persistence, matters. Dani, arching with muscles trembling, coiled tight under her kiss, the stroke of her tongue, the deliberate pressure maintained without release, matters. 

All morning, she could do this--shirt hanging open, belt undone, focused entirely on the soft wet pressure of her own mouth teasing Dani to impatience--and it would be the only thing in the world. Dani is all that counts. Dani’s hands in her hair. Dani’s voice crying out. Dani regretting absolutely nothing of grasping her by the shirt and tugging her back into bed.

Dani matters.

Everything else falls away.

#fanfiction #ficlet #the haunting of bly manor #the haunting of bly manor spoilers #dani x jamie #damie #physical affection tag

[judediangelo75]

Bath Time

A/N: This is gonna be based on the years after Hogwarts, just a few months after graduation.

It’s also going to be based on the “Physical One-Liners”. I feel like in the privacy of their own space, Talbott turns a bit more... mischievous, which both surprises and flusters Judith to no ends.

If that’s not your cup of tea, don’t read. Just that simple. Anywho...

Enjoy!

------------

Judith never felt more happy to leave St. Mungos. While she did enjoy her job, and spending time with her long time friend Chiara, she was beyond exhausted. Not in the mood to walk home, the young woman decided to fly home instead.

Quickly ducking into a dark alley, she transformed into her Black Sparrowhawk and flew off. Flying has always been one of her small joys in life. It reminded her of the times with her father, where he would teach her the basics of flying. It also reminded her of her time at Hogwarts. Attending Flying Class with Madam Hooch and playing on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team.

Most of all, it reminded her of her long time boyfriend, Talbott Winger. He was the one who helped her become an Animagus and teach her how to fly in this form. It was one of the ways the two bonded.

After they graduated, they got a small apartment together. After Judith graduated, her mother promptly kicked her out. Talbott was boiling on his girlfriend’s behalf, but she urged him to let it go. Judith always knew she wasn’t wanted by her mother, so he spoke to Dumbledore about ways to support herself after. He offered to pay her during her last year, which helped out a lot.

Now she was free to live her life the way she saw fit. And be with the love of her life.

It wasn’t long until Judith landed in front of her home and she transformed back. Pulling out the key from her purse, she opened the door and walked in.

She was minorly surprised to find Talbott inside as well, who was just taking off his shoes and placing them near the front door.

“Hello, little bird,” he greeted with a small smile. Judith blushed and smiled back.

“Hello, my love,” she said back, walking up to him. She carefully got on her toes to give the young man a peck on the lips.

Well, it was suppose to be a peck on the lips.

Talbott ended up wrapping his arms around his girlfriend’s waist, pulling her to his chest. Craning his head a bit lower, he pressed his lips against hers more firmly. Judith let out small giggle and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Talbott groaned softly, gently pushing Judith against the door. A shudder wracked Judith’s body as she felt Talbott’s teeth softly sink into the plump flesh of her bottom lip. Her eyes shoot open when she felt his larger hands press into her lower back. Talbott released her lips, red eyes half lidded and a lazy smirk on his full lips.

“You seem a little tense darling,” Talbott drawled, running a hand up and down the length of Judith’s back. A blush blossomed on her face, causing his smirk to grew a fraction wider.

“It’s... uh, it’s been a long day,” she mumbled, finding Talbott’s chest suddenly interesting. A chuckle rumbled from the back of his throat.

“You don’t say? Come on, darling. Let’s take a nice bath together.” Judith’s breath hitched as her blush worsen. 

Talbott tried his best not to laugh at his little bird’s expression. Ever since they left Hogwarts and all the stressors behind, he’s been seeing a different side of Judith.

She was more free. Happier. Carefree.

He’s seen bits and pieces of this side of her at Hogwarts but not often. He found this side of her to be so beautiful...

And if he was being brutally honest... it was sexy as well.

The girl would be more free with what she wears and would sometimes sing and dance to the music she has playing as she cleans.

He has walked in a few times where Judith was slowly swaying her hips slowly to the beat of a song as she cleaned, wearing nothing but a tube top and some short shorts. It never fails to put him in a trance as he watched how Judith seems to become one with the music. Especially when she tranced the length of her body and curves with her hands. His body temperature never failed to spike at the sight she created. 

The only way he’s forced to snap out of his daze is when Judith finally acknowledges his presence with an embarrassed squeal.

However, last time was particularly bad. Talbott didn’t know what kind of magic Judith casted on herself for her to move her waist the way she did, but Talbott was sure it had to be from the Dark Arts. What she did should’ve been illegal. Talbott never stared harder at something in his life.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VdOFz0Lsfbo

Even after Judith after squealed out of surprise, it didn’t arouse him from his stupor. The only thing he could think of was how his pants was tighter in an area that where it shouldn’t be.

The fact that Judith starts blushing and acts shy is what baffles him the most. She was extremely witty, sharp tongued, sarcastic, sassy, and petty. Rarely anything can render her mute.

Yet Talbott staring at her with a glimmer of desire in his eyes does the job just fine.

Talbott found this to be amusing, sometimes going out his way to tease her on purpose.

Lingering touches on her neck, shoulders, waist, and hips.

Spending extra time around her neck. Kissing, gently biting, and licking the sensitive skin.

Whispering in her ear in his sleepy voice.

Picking her up so she’ll be forced to wrap her legs around his waist.

Heated snogging sessions.

Hell, sometimes he would pinch her ass when she least expects it. Her scandalized blush never fails to make him laugh.

Being in the privacy of their own space made he feel a bit more open to be a bit more intimate with his little bird.

And Talbott knew she secretly liked this side of him. Judith could easily tell him to stop anytime and Talbott would do so immediately. But she hasn’t. 

Talbott wanted to see what she would say to taking a bath together...

“A-A bath? T-t-together,” Judith stuttered. She wasn’t sure why this was sending her heart into a frenzy.

‘Of course you do. You’ll in a bathtub with your boyfriend. No clothes, just soap and water.’ Judith really hated it when her own thoughts sass her...

“Of course, little bird... is that okay, darling,” Talbott asked, kissing her cheek. Judith bit her lip.

“Yeah... it’s fine...”

------------------

Judith was already in the tub. She was quick set up the bath and pick a body wash (vanilla which is her favorite). Not wanting Talbott to surprise her by silently watching her, she quickly stripped and hopped right in. 

She purposely added a lot of the body wash so the bubbles can hide her body.

‘Why the hell am I so bloody nervous? It not like he hasn’t seen what I looked like half naked...’

‘Because you sitting in this tub bare ass, woman. Plus you know this tub was made to fit two people, you’ll be literally pressed against him. And you know good and damn well you’re sensitive to his touch.’

‘You know, when I asked this, I didn’t need the sassy answer. I didn’t ask for an answer at all.’

‘Cry me a river.’

“Well aren’t you eager to take a bath?” Judith snapped out of the mental argument with her subconscious to find Talbott towering over her in just towel.

Judith blushed, forcing her eyes on her boyfriend’s face and not his lean muscular body-

“I didn’t want the warm water to go to waste by waiting on you, bird boy,” she retorted. Talbott raised a brow, a teasing smirk on his.

“You know, you’re right. Scoot over for me, darling...” Judith did what she told, averting her gaze when she noticed Talbott’s hand moving to undo the knot of his towel.

She didn’t look back at him until he was submerged. She regretted doing so, seeing how his smirk widen.

“You’re so cute when you’re flustered,” he teased, kissing her cheek. She crossed her arms over her chest, doing her absolute best not to pout.

“I’m not flustered,” she mumbled under her breath. The devious spark flashed in Talbott’s eyes.

“Oh really?” Judith didn’t have time to respond as she pulled to sit on Talbott’s lap, facing him.

“How about now,” he asked innocently. Part of Judith was cursing Talbott seven ways til Sunday, the other part of her headed straight down the gutter.

“You are truly something, Winger,” she answered instead, glaring at him.

“I know, but you love me regardless,” he chuckled. 

“Shut up,” she mumbled, kissing him to do just that. Talbott accepted the kiss wholeheartedly, nipping his girlfriend’s lower lip. Despite the warm water lapping against her skin, Judith could still feel goosebumps breaking out on her skin.

Damn her sensitivity.

Judith quickly broke the kiss before it could turn into something more.

“Where are you going, little bird,” Talbott asked quietly, his voice low and husky. 

“We’re suppose to be taking a bath! Not fooling around in the tub,” she retorted, cheeks rosy. Talbott nuzzled her neck, leaving a feather light kiss. Judith was quick to grip his shoulders to steady herself.

“Mmmm... of course, darling. Don’t worry I’ll take care of you...” Judith felt her heartbeat pounding in her eardrums as Talbott reached for the wash cloth.

‘He’s gonna kill me,’ she thought when he could feel his smirk on her neck.

Let’s just say by the time they finished, the bath water was cold and Judith was sporting quite a few love bites on her neck, shoulders and chest... 

#hphm #hphm characters #hphm jacobs sibling #hphm mc #jacob's sibling #jacob's sister #judith harris #hogwarts mystery mc #hphm talbott #talbott winger #hogwarts mystery talbott #talbott x mc #talbott x jacob's sibling #ravenclaw x hufflepuff #hufflepuff!mc #life after hogwarts #talbott is a tease #he finds judith's reactions amusing #dorks in love #teasing

[maybedefinitely404]

For You Became My Lighthouse

Genre: angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort

Pairing: romantic Prinxiety

Content: food/wine, Patton and Logan offscreen, anxiety attacks, argument, crying, fear of breakup.

Word count: 4k

Note: Not proofread. We die like men. Also part two is coming soon~

5:24

It definitely wasn’t every day that Virgil spent the early evening dancing around the kitchen while making dinner. But today was no ordinary day, and he was just too damn excited to stay still.

Figaro sat on the floor in the bedroom doorway, licking his paws and glaring disdainfully at the speaker system that had disrupted his nap. Virgil spotted the dark cat and grinned, dancing over to scoop him up. He hummed along to the music, bopping the disgruntled cat to the beat (much to his chagrin). Once upon a dream, Figaro might have fought tooth and nail at being used as a dance partner, but living with Roman for years had worn down his resolve. And after Virgil had entered their lives, he’d completely given up fighting their excuses for attention. Instead, the cat just yawned and went limp.

“Aw, did I wake you up, Figgy?”

The cat did not answer. 

Virgil let him hop from his arms onto his scratching tower and went back to slicing spinach on the counter, humming along to the music. He wanted it louder, loud enough that it numbed the excited tremble in his hands and drowned out his internal butterflies, but he wasn’t in the mood to deal with noise complaints. Again. 

Instead, he opened the drawer in front of him and ran his fingers over the small box he’d placed in there hours ago. As he’d done countless times since, he opened the lid to make sure that the ring inside was still there, still perfectly centered and shining as brightly as it had been when he’d picked it up earlier that morning. 

Roman would never expect him to propose. Ask anyone who knew them and they’d agree that the romantic, outgoing, type-to-propose in their relationship wasn’t Virgil. Plus, he’d dropped no hints. Any time he met with Logan to plan, or went to the jewelers, and the million other things he’d had to do before this, he’d chalked it up to ‘having a bad day’ or ‘needing time alone’. 

He felt… a little bad, knowing in the recent months many of Roman’s attempts at dates had been turned down, only half the time due to actual bad days. But it would all be worth it in the end. The plan was to start with dinner; the meal they’d had on their first real date, followed by Virgil suggesting a walk. As they put on their jackets, he’d sneak the ring box into his pocket, and innocently lead them past a cafe for dessert, “coincidentally” the spot where Roman had asked Virgil to move in with him. Finally, the park, strung up with fairy lights and electric candles Logan and Patton had set up just before. It was their perfect mix of solitude and ‘extra’. Virgil would propose, and Roman would hopefully say yes, and everything would be perfect and amazing and-    

The oven timer beeped. There was fifteen minutes left for the dough to set; time to make the filling for the ravioli. But he’d barely started cooking the spinach when his phone chimed, alerting him of a text.

Hey V, dinner and a movie tonight? You can choose.

Virgil bit his lip and sighed, thumbs hovering over the keyboard for a second. As old as the excuse was getting, he needed to side step Roman’s plans one more time. Just one last time.

not feeling well. anxietys been all over the place. sry. 

He laid the phone back on the counter and returned his attention to the frying pan, flipping the greens and watching them wilt slowly. One eye on that, he pulled out his other ingredients from the fridge. He’d rather be ahead of schedule than behind. 

Ding ding.

Yeah, shocker. What else is new.

Virgil felt his heart drop. That wasn’t… at all in character for his boyfriend. Yeah, he’d used the excuse more often lately, but was it that much? He stared at his phone, hardly breathing, trying to think of some way to answer that, when a burnt smell reached his nose. 

“Shit,” He hissed, trading his phone for a spatula and turning the spinach once more. It was just on the brink of being overdone, just the edges turning a tad too dark, but nothing he couldn’t save. He scraped the pan’s contents into a bowl to cool and dumped it in the sink. The hiss and steam of the hot pan in water made him wince (he’d been told a million times it was bad, but he couldn’t recall why), but he left it on the bottom of the sink to fill and soak. Scrubbing dried spinach off it tomorrow would really put a damper on the ‘recently engaged’ mood.

“Mrow?”

Virgil shut off the water and turned to the trill, cursing when he realized Figaro had abandoned his tower in favor of sniffing the food on the counter.

“Figgy, no! Get down!” He plucked him away from the bowl just as he looked ready to pounce inside, much to the cat’s annoyance. “You would just spit it out, you big baby. Don’t look at me like that.” It probably wasn’t safe to keep cooking with the cat around anyways, so he went to their room and left him on their bed with a soft order to behave. Figaro blinked once at him with indignation before the door was closed, and Virgil hurriedly pulled out his phone.

Real mature, not answering. 

Virgil took a deep breath to push down the rising anxiety. He’s… probably just playing around, right? It’s probably meant in a lighthearted way but he was just misinterpreting the text harshly. It’s not malicious. Right?

sry, put figgy away

He paused for a moment, before shooting another quick text.

ur not actually mad right?

The typing bubble appeared.

And went away.

And popped up again.

And vanished.

That was enough confirmation to get Virgil’s heart pounding, all hope that Roman was just fooling around out the window. He was typing again, and this bubble was staying for longer, but now it was too long to be a simple affirmation.

I don’t know, Virgil. You used to actually contribute to this relationship, and now I’m the only one really trying. We barely ever go out, for like a couple months now. You always dodge my plans. I miss the old you, because right now I feel like I barely know you. I’m getting sick of it. 

Now Virgil properly couldn’t breathe. That sounded like the beginning, if not the entirety, of a breakup if he ever heard one. Fuck. Fuck! Fuck his stupid ideas, his stupid plans, fuck all of it. This is his fault, and Roman’s about to dump him, because he took his overdramatic proposal too far and it was about to end their relationship.

I’ll be home late. 

Okay, that wasn’t… a breakup? Unless, of course, he was going to do it in person, and needed time to plan how it was going to go. 

Cognitive distortions, is that what Logan had called them? Magnifying? Is that what was happening right now? There was a solid chance that Logan would agree with him, say that he wasn’t actually sure what Roman planned, and it would probably be okay, but it was very hard to be objective when he was in the middle of it.

how late?

Another deep breath. He placed the phone next to his mixing bowl, screen up so he would be sure to see the notification, and absentmindedly added in the ingredients he’d pulled from the fridge earlier. Shit, did they have thyme? 

Of course they did, he’d gone shopping for all the ingredients like two days ago. He needed to get out of his own head. 

The final timer went off, signaling the dough was ready to be used. Before he unwrapped the ball and got his hands covered in the stuff, he checked the lock screen on his phone. Nothing. 

It was fine, it was fine. 

Rolling out the pasta into one thin sheet took far more effort than he would have thought, and it took embarrassingly long before he was able to lay it out on the big ice cube tray he was using in place of an actual ravioli mold. He checked his phone. Nothing. 

Once he got the hang of filling the molds without making a huge mess, it was actually an easy process. He finished three and a half trays-worth before running out of dough and filling simultaneously, but that’s more than enough for the two of them. No answer yet. 

ro?

He set a pot on the stove full of water but didn’t turn it on; it would just be one less thing to do when he was ready to cook the ravioli. For now, he placed the pasta in the fridge so it didn’t dry up. Roman generally got home from work at six, which he had prepared for, except on late rehearsal days when he was held back an extra hour. That’s what Virgil consciously chose to believe; he meant he’d be home late because it was a longer day. He wasn’t answering now because he was on stage. Technically it all made sense, but it wasn’t enough to relieve the icy grip around Virgil’s lungs. 

romans gonna be late. push back an hour?

Logan sent back a thumbs up followed by his ‘-Logan’ sign off. Virgil sent a quick apology but didn’t bother to check the response when his phone lit up, focusing back on his plate of raw ravioli.

So, at five to seven, he’d boil the pasta and warm up the tomato sauce. It had been finished that morning and had been waiting in the fridge all day, because Virgil was a firm believer that it would taste better having had time to sit. Plus, he’d been excited, and had needed something to do with his hands. 

But now he needs something to do with his hands again, but instead of excitement, it’s a tingling discomfort spreading through his limbs and curling in his stomach. Convinced that there was nothing else in the kitchen he could do, he untied the apron and pulled it over his head, pleased at the stark black button up he’d successfully kept flour-free. The satisfaction doesn’t last for long.

Now that he’d acknowledged his shirt, it was impossible to ignore the way it wrapped far too tight around his neck. It’s fine, he thought as he unbuttoned the top button, I still look okay.

He may as well set the table. Patton, similar to Roman in regards to going above and beyond, had insisted Virgil go all out for the dinner. Stark white table cloth, silverware set perfectly next to the plates, and a tall, white candle as the centrepiece. Virgil had cringed a bit at the idea, but after being assured that Roman would love it, he’d reluctantly agreed. It wasn’t his style but, well, the night wasn’t supposed to be about him, no really. 

Watching TV did nothing to relieve the knot of uneasiness in his stomach, even when he unrolled his weighted blanket from the side basket and huddled into it. It brought a calm familiarity with it, and if he concentrated hard enough, he could pretend that someone was holding him. Patton’s soothing words, or Logan’s gravity, or Roman’s warmth or Roman’s safety or Roman’s gentleness or Roman-

6:53

Time to throw in the ravioli. He shut off the television, he hadn’t been watching it anyways, and turned the water on to boil. As it heated, he scuttled back to the table, some of his excitement returning. Sure, things had been tense on the phone, but Roman would be home any minute, and the rest of the night could go as planned. He pulls a small crinkle out of the white fabric and recenters the candle, stepping back to admire his work. It’s okay. If Roman had done it, it would probably look better, but who cared. It was fine. 

7:01

Virgil sighed, looking over his final creation once again. A part of him was cringing with the cheesiness of it all; the lit candle, food already plated, a bottle of wine fresh from the fridge. Getting a new wine may have been too much of a giveaway, so the feature was a half finished bottle from their last date… a few months ago. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure if it would pair well. He didn’t even like wine. But it was Roman’s favorite, so it would have to do. 

He’d bitten three nails down to the nub by the time he figured he could add the tomato sauce over top. Roman was never later than seven, so the pasta wouldn’t even have the time to get soggy. 

In a combination of unfortunate events unlike any Virgil had experienced before, the tomato sauce bubbled the moment he grabbed the handle, dozens of pinpricks of heat burning his hands. He yelped and dropped the saucepan in favor of grabbing his scalded hand, jumping back as the pot hit the side of the counter and sent tomato sauce flying directly into the open drawer next to it. In his search for a match to light the candle, he’d left open the drawer containing the ring box, and in moments, the velvety exterior was coated in a fresh layer of marinara. 

“Fuck!” Virgil shouted. 

Heat be damned, he grabbed the box from the steaming puddle around it and rushed it to the sink. Running it under water would just be asking for the situation to be worse so he tried to scrape off the mess with a dishcloth. Was this even salvageable? 

No, it turned out. The white velvet had stained a shitty orange in a way he definitely couldn’t play off as the original color, and even though the interior (or god forbid the ring) hadn’t been touched, he found himself trying to fight off tears. This wasn’t fucking going well, and now… 

7:28

Roman was never this late, not without telling him. Virgil checked his phone and, nope, only the previous message from Logan and a newer one, asking if they could set up yet. He sent a quick:

no, hes not home yet

Panicking was not a move he wanted to make right now, despite how his brain was trying to convince him otherwise. Roman was probably stuck in traffic, right? And Virgil was always getting on him for texting and driving, so that could be why he hadn’t said anything. Sure, the route from the theatre to their house was barely ever busy, and yeah, it was way too late for there to be real holdups, but there was a first time for everything.  

He made quick work of cleaning up the disaster of marinara sauce, surprised that a decent amount was salvageable. Apparently in his panic he’d righted the pot before it had all spilled, so there was maybe just enough for the meals. The inside of the drawer was a stained, orange, mess, and the area under the burners was caked in dried sauce, and that was just too much work for right now. He slammed the drawer shut and threw a towel over the element. Out of sight, out of… well, not out of mind, but maybe it would take a backseat on ‘worries for the night’.

Might as well get a head start on dishes, he thought, since the thought of texting Roman is daunting and his whole body is aching for something to do. One second more of standing still and he may very well have combusted. He couldn’t even summon up the will to turn on music, the mood from before totally vanquished. If he could just get that burnt pan done, perhaps the tension in his chest would ease up a bit. 

But he cleaned the pan, and the rest of the dishes, and scrubbed the sink, and Roman still wasn’t home. At some point when he’d decided to just finish all of the dirty cookware he’d rolled up his sleeves, which he quickly lowered and rebuttoned around his wrists. The dishes were drying; nothing left to do there. 

He swallowed thickly. How was the shirt still too tight around his throat?

Virgil unbuttoned the next one down, hoping to ease the ball of fear in his throat. It didn’t help.

The food was lukewarm, at that point. It was still edible. It was microwaveable. It was fine. Again, the thought crossed his mind to text Roman, but what if he was driving? He might check it and get pulled over, and that would not help the uneasiness in their relationship right now. What if the phone’s light distracted him and he got into a car accident? He couldn’t lose Roman, not when their last words had been so strained, and it would be his fault on top? Not a chance. He’d be home any second now. He had to be. 

Virgil quickly found himself under his weighted blanket once more, watching whatever sitcom was on with dissociated interest, arms wrapped around his waist in a vice grip and feet bouncing under the covers. This time, though, the television worked less as a distraction and more as grating noise in his skull and he muted it, but that didn't stop the sudden stream of noise. Water was running through the pipes under him, some of his neighbors were shouting, and the fridge was humming and the lights overhead were buzzing and it’s all so loud-

His sound blocking headphones were also in the basket next to the couch and he shoved them over his ears. The world went quiet except for the sounds of his shaky breathing; breathe in, and out, and in, and out…

8:07

With the thick padding over his ears, the only sound he could hear was his breathing. It was somewhat reminiscent of Darth Vader’s, seeming far too loud, but also a steady foundation for him to ground on. Without the outside distraction, it was far easier to focus on his breaths, to slow them down, to get into a rhythm of long inhales and longer exhales. Bit by bit, the swarm of butterflies that had clasped around his heart gave way, allowing the anxiety to morph into numb sadness.

If Roman had come home on time, would they be in the park already? Would they be engaged? Maybe they’d already be back home, sharing the news to their families. Roman would probably already be gushing about wedding ideas as Virgil nodded along in amusement. They probably could have convinced Patton and Logan to come home too, and they could have had a great rest of the evening, finishing the bottle of wine and reliving the past and…

Were they even going to get engaged at this point?

He fumbled for his phone and sent a text to Logan.

plans off. sry

The headphones were overly effective in silencing the world, now amplifying his thoughts too much, so he slid them off. He took a deep breath, the sound now camouflaged in the rest of the apartment’s noise. A lump formed in his throat as he took in the arrangement of the dining room, and the more he pushed it down, the harder it was to stem the tears that were steadily filling his eyes. 

Virgil didn’t like feeling helpless, but that was all he felt at that moment.

Fuck.

Without forethought, he rubbed at his eyes, and instantly froze.

He drooped his head with a sigh that bordered on a groan, reluctantly lowering his hands from his face. Mixed in with his intercepted tears were the smudged remains of his makeup smeared across the web of his hands. 

Might as well; everything else went to shit anyways.

Usually, Virgil didn’t spend more than a minute removing his makeup. But that day, he spent an inordinate amount of time scraping off every streak of color until his face felt raw, watching his hard work be erased. He’d spent forever getting it perfect.

Even after he finished, he couldn’t get himself to move. That familiar weight of anxiety was settling again into the pit of his stomach as rushes of adrenaline, but he found it impossible to tear his eyes away from the mirror. As he stared into his own eyes, he vaguely remembered reading somewhere that looking at yourself in low lighting could trick one’s brain, causing the face to morph into something totally different, oftentimes not human; monstrous. Something about the brain trying to find faces everywhere, and creating them where it can’t see one properly. 

This didn’t happen to Virgil.

All he saw in the mirror was someone who had messed up his hope for a future. 

Huh. So maybe a ‘monster’ wasn’t too far off.

He laughed humorlessly and finally flicked off the bathroom switch, reentering the living room. The candle was still burning strong on the table, a good half way down. Virgil blew it out.

9:12

The state of apathy Virgil had sunken into was violently replaced with sharp anxiety when he finally bothered to check his phone, realizing it was past nine o’clock. Once more he considered asking Roman if everything was okay (heh, as if anything was okay) but he was quickly reminded why he hadn’t in the first place. Light distracts a driving Roman, bad things happen, it’s all his fault… 

Instead, he replied to Logan’s response.

Why? Virgil, what happened?

-Logan

we had a fight

His feet led him by their own will, pulling him to the wall so he could flip off the lights, dousing the apartment in darkness. Using the light from his phone screen, he stumbled to their room- or was it just Roman’s now? Would he have to move out? Oh god… where was he going to live?- ignoring Figaro’s mewls for pets. 

What did this fight regard? 

-Logan

idk. a bunch of stuff.

He stripped out of his formal shirt, hands shaking so bad he could barely undo the buttons, and exchanged it for his favorite hoodie. It may be too hot to sleep in, but he felt the need for comfort more than he was concerned about heat. 

Virgil dropped onto the bed next to the clothes, finally relenting to Figaro’s complaining and stroking down his back. In the stillness of a silent apartment, it was suddenly harder than ever to not completely break down. At least he wiped off his makeup.

This was over dinner?

-Logan

no. over text. he never came home.

He allowed the first tears to fall.

Maybe this had all been building up for a while and Virgil had just been too dumb to see the signs. Was this the night he lost everything? Would the one person he never grew tired of, the only person he had truly loved, leave him? He didn’t know what he’d do without Roman and somehow, he didn’t think he’d have a hope of ever finding someone like him again.

The tremors and blurry vision made it difficult to type.

i think romans going to break up with me

It took barely half a second after it sent for his phone to start ringing, Logan’s name showing up on the caller ID. 

Later, Virgil wouldn’t even remember pressing the answer button. The moment he heard Logan’s voice over the phone, his unusually concerned voice overlapping with Patton’s questions, the dam broke. He sobbed his way through an explanation the night, the text messages they’d swapped, and his snowball of anxiety.

To no surprise, the two on the other line immediately offered to come over, but Virgil declined. There was still the tiniest part of him, the littlest hope, that Roman was still going to walk through that door any second. If (when, when, when) he came home, they would need to talk, and it would complicate matters if Logan and Patton were there. 

When he eventually yawned in the middle of a sentence, he was encouraged to go to bed. He really didn’t need to be convinced; he was more than ready for this evening to be over. After promises that he’ll update them first thing in the morning, and multiple reminders that Patton loved him, he was left alone in the apartment once again. 

He curled into a ball on his side of the bed and cried himself to sleep.

Part two HERE!

#lywrites #sanderssides #sanderssidesfanfiction #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #angst #angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort #virgil sanders #roman sanders #romantic prinxiety #prinxiety

[quokkacore]

son of wolves III [park chanyeol and byun baekhyun]

summary: your entire life, you've fought bravely to defend the walls of your home from the evil forest spirits of the spearwood trying to destroy it, alongside your family, friends, and your betrothed, baekhyun. until you're infected by the evil that resides in one of these spirits, and you run away from home, before it can spread to those around you. it's in your exile, wandering through the spearwood that you meet the wolf prince, a tall man of hardened eyes, few words, and a fiery temperament, raised by these spirits you've so grown to resent. it's here that you begin to question everything you've ever known, and wonder whether the evil was out here, in the forest, or inside the walls of a place you once called home.

pairings: hunter!baekhyun x reader, wolfprince!chanyeol x reader

genre: reverse princessmononoke!au, ANGST, fluff, slow burn, enemies to lovers, fantasy epic, war au, wolf!au

warnings for this chapter: love bombing, emotional manipulation, non-sexual nudity, themes of infidelity?, mentioned child abandonment, gaslighting, guilt tripping, language, chanyeol is not in this chapter :(, baekhyun is an asshole and has huge mommy issues, reader makes No Good Decisions, mentions of gun violence, baekhyun is a bit forceful with reader at one point, threat of physical abuse(?), emotional abuse, blackmail, reader is drugged, possible non-con? (reader is drugged and baekhyun gives her a kiss on the lips)

song recs: fool of me - say lou lou & chet faker // blinding - florence + the machine // all my pride - black honey // king and queen - exo-cbx // power is power - sza, the weeknd & travis scott

word count: 5.8k

a/n: i’m sorry. i just had to!!! this isn’t the final chapter, i had a last minute idea of giving you guys ONE LAST CLIFFHANGER kjdkfjdk please don’t hate me!! thx to my irl best friend for all of the feedback (if ur reading this hi queen ily) and to @riajae​ for all of the help <3

disclaimer: i do not condone baekhyun’s actions in this chapter and i don’t believe that the real baekhyun would act like this in real life.

story masterlist // main masterlist

chapter three: the return

When you awoke, it felt as if you had never known peace in your life. Because your thoughts were jumbled when they should have been slow and sluggish as you were roused from your sleep. Despite the warmth of the quilts, you felt numb, as if you were still stuck in the cold. 

Your eyelashes fluttered, body stretching across the bed. You’d never felt more out of place in this bed. 

What you should have done was sighed in satisfaction at the bunches of quilts keeping your toes warm. You should have sunk further into the mattress, and buried your nose into Baekhyun’s pillow and taken in his scent after being deprived of it for so long. But as you recalled what had happened, you felt yourself sinking, but not because you were finally in your bed after so long.

Immediately, you understood where you were, what had happened and what had led you here. To a degree, you had an odd sense of coherency you weren't sure a person who had almost died of hypothermia could have. 

You could hear the murmuring behind the door. The sound of Baekhyun's voice mingling with Yixing's coasted through your ears, but you were only able to catch bits and pieces. Your thoughts were too jumbled to latch onto the conversation. 

"When you… was she...?"

"Delirious… didn't understand… anything she said."

"I need to… anything else?"

"No, I think… let you know."

You sat up slowly, when you heard the front door close. Your eyes squeezed shut, and you let out a quiet whine as you stretched your arms.

Your eyes fluttered open, head immediately craning to the pristine, white gauze wrapped around your arm. The bandages made their way around your fingertips, and all the way to your shoulder now. Aside from that, someone had changed your clothes, and now you were wearing clean clothes, at last.

You swallowed harshly, clenching your jaw. As you sat up, the sound of the front door closing made its way to your ears. Then, came the sounds of feet padding across the floor. You tried to move your legs, to stand. They wouldn’t budge, slightly weak. 

The bedroom door opened quietly, as if whoever was trying to open it didn’t want to disturb you. However, once the familiar pair of brown eyes settled on your sitting form, it swung open.

“Y/N,” Baekhyun sighed in relief, striding towards you. You tried to stand, needing to feel his embrace. “Baekhyun—”

Your knees buckled, but he caught you just in time. His hands grasped your waist, and you gasped, bracing to hit the floor facefirst. But you didn’t, instead coming face to face with the man you had so longed for for so long. His face was inches away from yours, his breath slightly ragged. Baekhyun’s eyes seemed to be painted in disbelief, and your heart twisted at the thought—that he seemed to be shocked that you were here, in your home.

The next thing you knew, his lips were on yours, bruising, desperate. He hummed softly against your lips, out of relief, out of exhilaration, out of heartbreak. Your shoulders slumped, and you almost sagged against him before wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. He lowered you back onto the bed gently, lips not leaving yours. Carefully, his body hovered over yours, cautious to not pin you down or press his weight down on you. 

His hands came up to cradle your face, before gently pulling away. “You idiot,” He huffed lovingly, pressing kisses all over your face, “Do you have any idea how worried I was—”

“Baek—”

He cut you off with another soft kiss before pressing more kisses to your face, “Thought I would never see you again, love…”

“How did you find me?” You murmured, finally gripping his chin and pulling his lips away from your forehead. You met his eyes, which were full of mirth. He caught his breath before finally speaking. 

“Ivan marched right up to the gate a few days ago. We did our best to track his prints in the snow, and branched out when the snow covered them completely. You walked right into our search party the next morning.”

“Wait, how long was I out?” You asked, pushing a stray strand of hair out of his face. His lips turned downwards, eyes turning serious. 

“Y/N, you were out for about two days. We only got back here late last night. You were asleep that entire time. We were all scared we wouldn’t be able to keep you alive long enough before we could come back here, but we managed it, somehow.”

Eyes not straying away from his, you let out a shaky breath. “Baek, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“That doesn’t matter now,” He shushed, quickly rolling off of you. He gathered you in his arms, lifting you like a man would his new wife. “What matters now is that you’re home, and you’re safe, and we’re back together again.”

You nodded, stomach heavy with guilt. Your small smile didn’t seem very convincing, even though you hoped it was. 

Baekhyun led you to the washroom, setting you on the wooden chair, before telling you he’d be right back. He was gone for about fifteen minutes.  

During that time, you crossed your hands in your lap, twiddling your fingers as you sat in silence. Quietly mulling over everything you’d been through for the past few weeks, you leaned back in the chair as emotional exhaustion overtook you.

The curse. The isolation you’d subjected yourself to willingly, at your naivete, the pride that you could negotiate with a god. The cold, the hunger, the loneliness… Chanyeol. Everything he’d said to you, the sensation of his skin on yours... his revelations from that night. Your natural distrust of his words. The uneasiness at the idea that they might be true.

Even if you’d been asleep for just about two days—the sensation of being tired seemed to have seeped into your bones, permeating the air worse than any hate curse ever could. It seemed to wrap itself around your neck, choking you until tears began to fall down your cheeks.

Baekhyun returned some fifteen minutes later, carefully carrying two buckets: one of boiling hot water, the other of cold water. He filled the small basin with both, testing the water with his hand to make sure it wasn’t too hot or cold. 

When he finally turned, he seemed to realize that you were crying. “Oh, my darling,” He said, kneeling in front of your chair, “Come here.”

As if it was second nature, your face buried itself in Baekhyun’s chest, his damp hand coming up to rub up and down your back, the other petting your hair. “I’m sorry,” You sobbed brokenly, hands gripping the white linen of his shirt, “Baek, I’m so sorry. I was wrong, s-so wrong…” 

Baekhyun pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “Maybe you shouldn’t have,” He murmured against your hair, causing a pang of guilt to rack through your chest. “But you’re alive, okay? As long as you’re alive, everything else doesn’t matter. Come on, love, we need to get you cleaned up.”

He pulled away from you, wiping away the tears streaking down your cheeks. His eyes were glassy, and that made it even worse. Your body shook with every cry, vision blurring and lips trembling. 

His voice was gentle. “Don’t cry, Y/N… you’ll make me cry, and then you’ll cry even harder, and then I’ll cry even harder…”

A soft laugh made its way past your lips between your blubbering, and Baekhyun mirrored your laugh. “There’s my girl,” He said lovingly, “Come here. Can I take your clothes off?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice. Wordlessly, he began to undress you. You lifted your arms when he pulled off your shirt, and wiggled your hips when he pulled down your pants. His actions were gentle, tender, intimate, and the familiar hands tending to your body, lifting you up again and placing you into the bath, calmed you substantially. Automatically, you brought your knees up to your chest when he stood up, getting ready to wash you. 

“Can you get in with me?” You asked quietly, voice scratchy and weak. You pouted up at him, eyes still teary, and he put his hands on his hips. He nodded, smiling sympathetically.

“With that look in your eyes, you make it hard to say no."

Quickly, he shed his clothes, setting them onto the chair next to yours, before motioning you to scoot forward. He sat down behind you, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder. You craned your head back to lock eyes with him.

“You keep kissing me,” You murmured.

“Well, I wasn’t able to kiss you for three weeks,” He replied, pressing another kiss to your shoulder, eyes not leaving yours, “I need to make up for lost time.”

“Yeah, well I haven’t been able to bathe in three weeks. If there’s anyone who needs to make up for lost time, it’s me.”

He chuckled at your quip, cupping water with his hands to let it run down your skin. Picking up the soap, he got to work helping you wash. Running the bar down your arms, on your back and around your chest, touch never too heavy.

A few seconds after he started, you opted to speak. With a heavy sigh, you told him just about everything. The first week alone, Chanyeol attacking you, your meeting with the gods. 

“So he is still out there,” Baekhyun muttered when you described Emyr, “Who would have thought.”

You left out certain things, nervously swallowing the urge to question your loyalties. The story about removing the bullet from Sehun was left out.

So was what happened at the hot springs. You remained silent as he washed your hair, which was greasy and matted from weeks of not being cared for properly. You sighed in quiet satisfaction, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of his hands massaging your scalp. When he was finished, he spoke again. 

"So they just made you follow them around all night?" His voice was quiet, tone unreadable. “Love, I don’t think they ever intended on healing you. It sounds like they were stringing you along.”

You nodded, unsure of what to say. In another life, you would have believed him. 

“Baek?”

“Hmm?” His hand grabbed yours gently, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. 

"Would it be so crazy if I thought they weren't?"

He hummed pensively, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. He remained silent for a long time, and you tried to keep your breath steady. "I wouldn't say… crazy. Maybe a bit too optimistic. It's not… we've been enemies for how long now? Not crazy. Maybe a bit naive. Which I wouldn’t really expect from you, but...”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You murmured quietly, turning your head. Your teary eyes met his unreadable ones. He pursed his lips, shaking his head. “I’m not trying to be mean, love. It just… You have to understand that I told you not to go, and you went anyway. I lost my mind when I woke up that morning. And I’m still… I don’t know. Never mind.” He shook his head, frowning. 

“Baekhyun…” You sounded defeated, turning your torso further back to get a better look at him. 

“Y/N, I just want what’s best for you,” He answered earnestly, straightening the chain of your necklace, “I was worried. I’m sorry if I’m taking that out on you now.”

Looking down, focusing on a mole on his bare chest to avoid his downtrodden gaze, you shook your head. “It’s alright,” You whispered, “You have every right to be angry at me.”

He didn’t rebuke you, shame bubbling in your chest when he pressed a kiss to your forehead instead. “Let’s get you into some new clothes. The Council wanted to see me after this, I’ll bring you along too.”

Wordlessly, you obeyed. He dried and dressed you, hands tracing over your body as if you were gentle porcelain as he draped clean, warm fabric across your skin. When he finished getting himself dressed he walked back over to you and kissed you again. While a few weeks ago you would have killed just to have one of these kisses, now it has simply left you hollow.

You weren’t sure if it was because of the guilt gnawing at your insides or because every time his lips met yours, all you could think of was Chanyeol’s; his skin on yours, the piercing blue of the water, everything that could have been but ultimately wasn’t—because you were both too cowardly to face the truth.

“You ready to go?” His hands made his way to your cheeks, gazing at you tentatively, warmly. Like he was scared that at any moment, you’d break away and run off even if he begged you not to. 

And you nodded, too exhausted to argue, even though all you wanted was to curl up in bed and ask him to hold you while you cry. Maybe if he held you for long enough, these feelings would go away and you would forget about everything that happened to you in that forest. But you didn’t, and he didn’t ask you if you wanted to stay. 

So you took his hand, and he helped you out the door. 

To say the Council was furious was an understatement. You thought you’d be given a reprieve when your father rushed to you and crushed you in a hug. He didn’t say anything, but when he pulled away, his eyes were glassy. 

But that seemed to be the extent of their mercy. You were berated for a good fifteen minutes, going on about how your escape was an insult to the military prowess, about how you had disobeyed a direct order, that if it were anyone else, they would have been tried for treason and abandonment. 

You let them go on, not finding the energy within you to protest. You were already feeling as low as you thought possible, and doubted they could make you feel even worse.

Oh, how wrong you were. 

“You say you met the old gods?”

You sighed, nodding. “I was forced to work for Selyne’s sons when I did find them.”

“What of the wolf rider?” One of the men asked, “Does he speak? What did you find out about him.”

Clenching your jaw, you decided to test the waters. “He told me his name and the names of his brothers. His name is Chanyeol.”

“He can communicate with the wolves?” An elderly woman asked, and you nodded tentatively. You needed to be very careful with your next words. If you revealed you could communicate with them also, you were done for. You would be tried for treason for sure. Maybe even witchcraft. 

But you couldn’t shake the idea that you were wrong. Not because of everything you’d been through, but because of what you’d told Baekhyun. That you were wrong to go out there. With every word spoken, you felt a growing sense of unease, an urge to protect the wolves, the Spearwood, and everything it stood for.

“From what I saw and heard, yes. But it’s… strange. He spoke out loud to them, and I couldn’t hear their responses. I asked him how. He said it was because he’s connected to the she-wolf, and as a result, to the other creatures of the forest as well.”  

They asked if he was from here or from somewhere else. You knew it didn’t matter. At the end of the day, they saw him as human, so it didn’t matter. He would be considered a traitor regardless. 

“He told me he was born in the forest. That’s all I know.”

There was a pause in the conversation, only perking up when Jongdae spoke up. “He said he’s connected to Selyne,” He pointed out, “What would happen if she were to die?”

Suddenly, the air in the room changed, and your stomach dropped. 

“He would have to lose his connection to the forest.” Minseok seemed to catch on to what Jongdae was saying. “On top of that, we get rid of one of their leaders. It would be a huge dent in their morale and strategy. That could give us the upper hand.”

Your father nodded. “Y/N, you know the forest better than any of us now. If you worked with the wolves, you must have seen their den.”

“I was with the pr—her sons. She lived in another den… I didn’t see it.” 

“Still, you’re our upper hand,” Baekhyun said, looking slightly hopeful. It made your stomach churn. “If you were able to survive for so long on your own, we could plan a military campaign and invade. We’re stronger in numbers.” 

  The chatter started up again, discussing possible strategies, and it became too much. You felt a ripple in your arm, but you managed to hold it back. 

“No.” 

The chatter died down as quickly as it had started, and everyone turned to look at you. Your heart began to pound in your chest, your palms turning clammy. “They… they said once they’d be willing to negotiate a truce. They’re just as scared as we are, as tired of the war as we are, and they just want peace—”

"We have an opportunity to get rid of them once and for all, so we can finally expand our home and reap the benefits of having the forest for ourselves," A man told you, "You wish for us to let it slip through our fingers?"

Swallowing, you shook your head. This wasn’t what you wanted to happen. "I don't think it's wise for us to simply invade, when both sides want the same thing—"

“Hold on, so they want peace but then they decided to ambush us one day?” Baekhyun said, sounding a bit louder. You didn’t like the accusatory tone in his voice.

“They wouldn’t have ambushed us if you hadn’t shot Sehun!”

Baekhyun’s head shot back, eyes widening. He was silent for a moment, eyes darting back and forth before he could speak again. But your father beat you to it.

“Y/N, who is Sehun?”

“The wolf that bit me that day,” You admitted. “He got shot. The wound got infected, and that’s what he spread to me. I pulled out the bullet myself—they forced me to.” 

Your head turned to Baekhyun, who had interlocked his fingers and whose eyes were dark and unreadable. “Chanyeol said that you were the target that day, because you were the one that shot him.”

“So you’re just going to take that—that creature’s word over mine?” Baekhyun’s voice was low, bordering on angry, “Really, Y/N?”

“I’m not saying that I believe him, I’m just saying that if one of us hadn’t—”

“It sure sounds like you do,” Jongdae snapped.

“—Provoked them, we wouldn’t be—”

“Enough!”

Your father’s voice rang through the room, and suddenly, you could hear a pin drop. The look on everyone’s faces gave it away. You had just made a fatal mistake.

“We’ll take a recess,” Your father said, glaring at you, “Baekhyun, take Y/N back to the house. Keep her there and when you return we’ll resume discussing strategies. Clearly, three weeks of wandering through the cold have made her unwell.”

“What?” You cried, incredulous. Baekhyun stood, walking towards you, cautiously gripping your arm. "Come on, love, let's go."

"No!" You tugged your arm out of his grip, "You can't do this, it's not safe and it's not smart—"

“Clearly, she’s gone mad from the cold and the isolation! How can we believe anything she says?” The old woman from before you was scowling at you, “Get her out of this room. Immediately.”

 “How dare you,” You fired back, “After everything I’ve done for this Council you would just—”

But Baekhyun was pulling you away anyway, and within a matter of minutes, you were back inside the walls of what was once your home. Baekhyun didn’t let go as he tugged you over the threshold, leading you towards the bedroom. 

“Baekhyun, let me go,” You demanded, still trying to pull away, “Byun Baekhyun, let me go! You’re not listening to me—”

“Why should I listen to you?” He snapped as he shoved you into the bedroom, pushing you to sit on the bed. 

“Because I know what happened to me in there! I’m not crazy! I’m—”

“We will discuss this when I come back from the meeting. My word is final.”

He looked furious, which completely caught you off guard. He seemed to be sneering at you when he slammed the door, shaking his head.

Then, you heard a soft click, and your blood ran cold. You shot up, darting towards the door, jiggling the knob.

He had locked you inside. You banged on the door. “Baek! Baekhyun, let me out! Let me out, please, Baek.” 

You heard the front door slam, and the next thing you knew, you had collapsed to the floor, sobbing, clutching the knob like a lifeline. 

  How long you stayed like that was a mystery. Eventually, your tears dried up, and your wailing quieted. What you were left with were a hollow interior, a growling stomach and a pounding head. You craned your neck to look at the bedroom, which was slowly getting darker as the afternoon stretched into the evening. 

Your eyes landed on a chair you hadn’t previously noticed in the morning. Draped over it were the clothes you had worn for the past few weeks, undoubtedly dirty. Making your way over to the chair, you picked up the shirt. When you lifted it you crinkled your nose, the smell of dried sweat and blood making its way to your nostrils. Had you really smelled like this the entire time?

Shoving the thought to the back of your mind, you looked in the pockets of the shirt until you found it: a small opal dangling from a chain of gold. 

You weren’t sure what to tell Baekhyun. Hell, you weren’t sure if you should tell him at all. He’d always been quite sensitive when it came to his mother. 

And to tell him now, with the way he was acting… 

You stared at the small stone, silently cursing Baekhyun and Chanyeol’s father. If you hadn’t been such a dick, I wouldn’t be in this situation.

Thinking over everything that was said in the Council meeting was painful. It didn’t help the pounding in your head. How you’d been called mad, and you’d been effectively silenced by the people who would easily listen to you in the past. 

You considered what they might be discussing right now. Because you knew they wanted the forest for themselves, to strip it barren and use it to build an empire. Your hands tightened around the necklace when you realized it.

This war wasn’t being fueled by fear. Not on this side, at least. It was greed, pure human greed, and it wouldn’t stop unless a major change happened. 

You didn’t hear the front door open, but you heard the padding of feet headed towards the bedroom door. You shot up, shoving the necklace into your pocket as the lock clicked, and then the door swung open.

Baekhyun’s eyes fell on you, standing right across from you. There was an odd mix of contempt and satisfaction in his eyes. You’re not an idiot. You knew which one of those emotions was reserved for you.

“I brought you some food,” He murmured, “I figured you might be hungry.”

Nodding, you sheepishly put your hands in your pockets, and trudged over to him. Baekhyun led you to the small dinner table, where he’d set down two bowls of soup, which he must have bought from Mrs Yang’s tavern. He was silent the entire time, watching you as you scarfed down the soup. The taste was as rich as ever, but this time there was a new kick to it. You also ate the bread roll you’d picked up from the basket in the middle of the table. The meal was warm and hearty and while it filled your stomach, the void in your chest was still there.

“We’re leaving early tomorrow, before dawn,” Baekhyun said finally, “We plan to go as far in as we can.” 

Your heart just about stopped, the stones on your chest and in your pocket weighing you down, stopping you from shooting straight up. “Why?” You croaked, eyes filling with tears.

Baekhyun sighed and scowled at you, pushing away his half empty bowl. “You were wrong.”

“What?”

“Today,” He clarified, “You said that the old gods were just as scared and tired as we are. You’re wrong. We’re not afraid of them. We haven’t been for years.”

Your hand grabbed his. “Baekhyun, you can’t,” You pleaded, “Please. Listen to me. There’s no need for all of this, this violence. It can end tomorrow if you’re just willing to negotiate with them.”

“We don’t want to negotiate.” He spat out the last word as if it was offensive. His hand pulled away from yours. “That forest is ours for the taking and we’re not about to let it slip through our hands.” 

He stood, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “We’re expanding our home. This is for the greater good, Y/N. Can’t you see? A future for us—”

“I’m going to die soon.” Your voice was trembling now. You couldn’t blame yourself. “There is no greater good for me, no greater good for us. For how long would it last, anyway? If the forest is gone, how do we hunt? It’s provided for us for generations, and all we do is take and take and take and we never give it anything in return—”

“Why the hell would I want to give anything to that forest?” He yelled, slamming his hands down on the table with a loud bang, causing you to flinch. “Over the years, they’ve killed hundreds of us—”

“And we’ve killed thousands of them!” You had stood now, chest heaving. “I know it’s hard for you to think there’s good in there, but there is, Baek. It’s calm and quiet and peaceful and that’s all—they—want. To keep it that way.”

He shook his head. “There’s never been good in that forest. Not since we left. It’s evil, and it corrupts anyone who stays there for too long. I-it corrupted that rider—Chanyeol or whatever his name is—and now, I’m starting to think it’s corrupted you too.”

“That rider will die if you don’t convince the council to stand down.” Your hands were trembling, but somehow, you mustered up the strength—the courage really—to throw the necklace down onto the table, just as Baekhyun was asking why he should care so much about Chanyeol.

At first, he didn’t understand. He probably thought it was his necklace, the one he’d given to you. His eyebrows furrowed, his lips turned downward, and then he looked up to see your face. Only when he meant to look back down at Chanyeol’s necklace and began to lower his gaze, did he realize that there was more than one opal necklace.

His expression turned uncertain, blinking a few times in disbelief. “Where… where did you get this?” He asked, breathless. Your voice wavered, uncertain of what would come next.

“Chanyeol gave it to me,” You said, staring at the necklace, “He said… He said it belonged to the woman who gave birth to him. His… his mother.”

Baekhyun looked back up at you, mouth gaping. “That can’t be possible,” He murmured, shaking his head. You shrugged. “I didn’t believe him either, Baek. Not at first. But… I don’t know.”

“What exactly did he tell you?” He murmured, gritting his teeth. “I need to know.”

So you did. You told Baekhyun the same story Chanyeol had told you, the same story Selyne had told him as a child. Of a young woman who died of frostbite after running away from her husband, who gave birth to a baby boy with wide brown eyes and big ears, who begged a wolf goddess to raise the baby as one of her own. 

The entire time, your gaze remained trained on him. His eyes turned glassy but his tears didn’t fall, and you felt your chest ache when you finished, and he took a shaky breath. 

“So that’s where she went,” He whispered, “I had always thought…”

You shook your head. “I’m sorry, Baekhyun. I wish I could have told you under better circumstances.”

Hands trembling, he picked up the necklace, and traced over the stone with a delicate finger. You saw a tear fall, but just as you were about to comfort him, something in him shifted. His breathing became heavier, his top lip twitched, before twisting into an angry sneer. His fist closed around the necklace, right before he threw it across the room. You heard it hit the wall, but you didn’t see where it went.

“No.” His teary eyes met yours, and you knew that something had taken over inside of him; some deep rooted pain he had locked away for years upon years. “I’m not helping him. Not after what he took from me.”

“Baekhyun—”

“Why do you seem to care so much about him, Y/N? Huh?” He leaned forward, voice dangerously quiet. “Did something… happen while you were out there? Is that what this is?”

“Nothing happened,” You growled, tight lipped.

He scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

Baekhyun walked towards you, once again gripping your wrist, this time even tighter. He tugged you towards the bedroom, you protesting every step of the way. Where you found the energy, you didn’t know. Because you were so tired.

“You’re hurting me,” You told him, but he didn’t let go. “Baekhyun, please! If you could j-just hear me out, o-or let me out so I can talk to the people in town—”

 “What, you think they’ll believe you?” He snarled, slamming the bedroom door shut and finally letting you go. He stepped forward, but you refused to concede. “Doll, you just spent three weeks wandering around in the wilderness because you didn’t want to die. At first, everyone felt bad, you know? Poor little Y/N, all alone in the woods because she wants to live a full life.” 

He stepped forward again, this time grabbing your face. This time, his grip wasn’t painful, wasn’t even tight. You didn’t pull away as his eyes filled with mock sadness, lips twisting into an exaggerated pout. “But then they watched as I, your poor, poor fiance, walked in and out of that forest for three weeks trying to save you. Because I thought I could,” He let out an empty, humorless laugh, “I thought I could still bring you back and take care of you until you died. Maybe have a less elaborate wedding, but a wedding nonetheless. They watched me do that and then they realized that maybe, just maybe, you were being a selfish little brat and only thinking about yourself. So tell me, my love, who are they going to be more inclined to believe, huh?”

Yanking yourself out of his grip, you stared at him in disbelief, but he didn’t stop. He seemed to be caught in his own little reverie, monologuing as if he were the one who had supposedly gone mad. “We were supposed to get married and lead these people to greatness. It was our destiny. But now you’ve gone and ruined everything.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t shot the damn wolf,” You hissed. His eyes flashed, and he shook his head. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “No. I suppose it wouldn’t… but I guess it’s better this way.”

He put his hands on your shoulders, and you jumped. “How?” Your voice was barely audible. 

“If you hadn’t gotten bitten, we wouldn’t be here. But that means I never would have found out that you were so… susceptible to the forest. We shouldn’t have such a weak leader running around. Wouldn’t want that, would we? But we are here, and now I know. So here’s what’s going to happen.”

His hands pushed down on your shoulders, forcing you onto the bed. You glared up at him as he put his hands on his hips. “I’m going to leave with the other soldiers in a few hours, and I’m gonna kill myself a she-wolf and her little bastards. You’re going to stay right here.” His condescending tone wasn’t missed, even as he got more sentimental.

“I’m going to come back, and we’ll get married, and we’re gonna be happy until you die. And when you do, since I, as your widower, will have married into your family line, I’m going to lead my people to destroy that forest once and for all. How’s that for a plan?”

 You couldn’t answer. You didn’t want to play the hero and say that he would never win. Because the truth was, he very much could. The gods and their followers didn’t understand the guns or how to treat bullet wounds. Even worse, Baekhyun had a sort of magnetism that drew people to him, that made them hang on to every single word he said.

You had no more cards to play. Every single one you had tried had backfired, horribly. 

Pursing your lips, you sighed. “...Fine. I’ll stay.” 

You refused to concede. It wouldn’t end this way. But right now, you were too tired to fight back, and your muscles seemed to be getting heavier and heavier by the second. 

“That’s my girl,” Baekhyun murmured, gaze beginning to warm. “Get to bed, love. I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

You nodded, holding back a yawn. You tried to kick off your shoes, but quickly realized your movements were sluggish. All at once, despite the slowness of your body, your mind snapped to the conclusion. 

The soup tasted differently. You were tired. Your movements were slowing down. Baekhyun had spiked the soup.

“Baek,” You slurred, “What did you do?”

“What was necessary, love.” It sounded so twisted, the way his voice was so warm. “I needed to make sure you wouldn’t fight back.”

But maybe this was how Baekhyun had loved you all along, and you had never realized; in his own sick, twisted way. Maybe he had never loved you at all, maybe he just wanted to own you. The realization came as he removed your shoes for you, before guiding you under the covers. Your fists weakly came up to hit at his chest as he did, but they did no damage.

“You’re vile,” You whispered. You heard Baekhyun chuckle. “Maybe I am.”

He tucked you in with a kiss on your forehead, one you barely felt. You were already beginning to slip away. “Yixing will be here in the morning to check on you. You’re still recovering, you know.”

You couldn’t respond, too groggy to do so. But you were aware enough to hear his final words, whispered into your ear before he pressed one final kiss to your lips.

“If you try anything, I’ll fucking kill him,” He said, voice saccharine sweet, “Family or not. He stole something from me once.”

Your eyes fluttered shut, but not before you heard him open the door. 

“I’m not going to let him do it again."

taglist: @delightpcy​ @chanyeolscoon​ @xxbluestrifexx​ @imsoba​ @chogiwhy127​ @always-wishing-for-rain​

#exo imagines #exo au #exo scenarios #exo angst #exo smut #exo fluff #byun baekhyun x reader #baekhyun angst #baekhyun fluff #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kpop angst #park chanyeol x reader #my writing

[imnotusedtobeingloved]

HAPPY IS HER

Warnings: Unrequited love.

Pairing: Zuko x Mai x f!Reader

Characters: Zuko, Mai, Uncle Iroh, Azula, Ty Lee, Ursa, Avatar Aang (mentioned)

Requested: No.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, nor the gif. Credit to the owners.

Summary: You remember the time that lead up to Zuko's coronation.

A/N: I feel like Mai is often villainized in some fics? Which definetely works in some cases, but in this one i just wanted to do something nice for her as well. So yes, you get to actually be Mai’s friend in this shot. She’s a queen. Hope you like it!

Zuko had a beautiful face.

It was something that you'd discovered in your childhood, and it still caught your eye now that you were an adult. Maybe even more so.

Growing up next to him, Azula, Mai and Ty Lee enabled you to see how much he'd grown. You remembered running around in the gardens and training in the palace grounds, playing all those silly games with them. Being the daughter of a Fire Nation General enabled you to spend a lot of time with the prince and princess.

“Mom, can you make Zuko play with us? We need equal teams to play a game,” Azula explained, running up to the Fire Lady and her brother while you, Mai and Ty Lee watched. “I’m not cartwheeling!” Zuko declined. “You won’t have to. Cartwheeling is not a game, dumb-dumb,” the princess crossed her arms, but he shot right back. “I don’t care! I don’t want to play with you,” Azula payed him no mind, instead persuading her mother. “We are brother and sister. It’s important for us to spend time together. Don’t you think so, mom?” her big golden eyes, a common trait of the Royal Family, looked at Ursa expectantly. “Yes, darling, i think it’s a good idea to play with your sister. Go on, now! Just... for a little while,” she gave in, strolling on without the prince. He didn’t seem particularily enthusiastic but he stepped up next to you, causing a blush to rise on your face. Luckily, nobody seemed to notice.

“Here’s the way it goes,” his sister said, plucking an apple from a tree. “Now what you do is, try to knock the apple off the other persons head. Like this,” After placing the fruit on Mai’s head, Azula proceeded to take a few steps back, standing between Ty Lee and Zuko. “Zula, are you sure this is a good idea?” You asked, unsure about the game. “Of course it is, silly. It’s going to be fun!” Mai didn’t look to pleased with her task, tough she stood still in front of the fountain, balancing the apple. But it didn’t stay that way for long. Azula produced a flame, using two fingers to coordinate it towards her target. The leaves of the fruit atop Mai’s head were aflame in a second. She screamed, causing Zuko to run forward and pushing her into the water-fountain, resulting in both of them landing in the water. Azula cackled, placing a hand on your shoulder. “See? I told you it would work!” Ty Lee nodded and pointed a fiinger in their direction. “Awww, they’re so cute together!” A flicker of jealousy rose in your chest, but you pushed it down quickly. Zuko didn’t respond, he only stood up and walked away, huffing. Mai wasn’t in a good mood either. “You three are such... ugh!” she didn’t really finish her scentense, but anyone could see how upset she was. “Come on, let’s get you out of here,” You said, reaching out. She took your hand reluctantly and once she stood on solid ground, Azula and Ty Lee dragged her with them to find some dry clothes. You, on the other hand, were already running after the prince. “Zuko, wait!”

Many memories of Zuko were forever branded into your mind. Even then you'd stolen glances at him whenever you felt unobserved. But that was before he participated in an Agni Kai against his father.

You’d turned your face away when it happened. Zuko lost, his screams echoing through the halls, even when he finally got to the healers. Since then a glaring red burn mark graced the skin around his eye. A reminder that would last for life. And that wasn’t even the worst part of it. He was banished. Burdened with the hopeless conquest to find and capture the Avatar. You’d cried as you hugged him goodbye, almost certain you’d never see him again. 

"Do you really have to go?” you mumbled into his shoulder, staining it with your tears. The embrace was rough. He recoiled in a matter of seconds, pushing you an arms-length away. It wasn’t the loving touch you were used to. “Yes, i have to. I need to restore my honor, (Y/N),” he said, his tone devoid of any emotion but anger. “But Zuko-,” he interrupted you. “No!” fire was blazing in his eyes. You’d never had his anger directed at you before, and now that you did, it shocked you into silence. “Just leave me alone,” he said, turned around, and walked away. You stood there, rigid, until General Iroh moved to your side. “Please don’t take it personally, (Y/N),” he folded his hands in front of his stomach, looking after his nephew, who was stomping onto the deck of his ship. “He is very desperate right now,” You nodded shortly. “I know,” A sigh left your lips. “That’s why it hurts even more,”

There was nothing. Nothing you could help with. You were losing your best friend and the only thing you could do was watch. Years went by without word or sight of either Zuko or Iroh and not a day went by without remembering them. The prince may be banned from the Nation, but he couldn’t be banned from your heart.

Needless to say you were ecstatic when he returned. You all seemed to be. In the few days spend on Ember Island you all discovered something about yourselves, and each other. You, for example, discovered that you were still very much in love with Zuko. Being with him, talking to him, laughing with him... it all seemed so easy that it ripped your heart apart to see him with Mai. But nevertheless you were more shocked than relieved when she ended things with him.

“Zuko?” you’d followed him after he stormed out of Chan’s house, finally finding him on the steps of their old residence on Ember Island. “What happened?” You sat down next to him. A few moments passed in silence, with both of you lost in thoughts. He didn’t look at you, but eventually he started to speak. “Mai ended things between us,” “Oh...” you weren’t sure what to say... but maybe pretty words weren’t needed for once. Zuko looked stricking under the moonlight, almost unreal. It was a sight so pure that you were reconsidering the idea in your head, but eventually you just followed your heart. “Come here,” He furrowed his brows. “What?” You sighed. He was still angry. After all those years he hadn’t learned to let go. “You need a hug. Come here,” And this time he did. He felt warm, just like he did back when you were kids. Maybe not everything had changed completely, you thought. Maybe things truly could turn out okay.

So when he left once again, for the Avatar, you had to make a choice. With Mai and Ty Lee by your side you eventually stood against Azula, helping Team Avatar to escape the Boiling Rock.

“You should’ve feared me more!” Azula roared in anger at your betrayal. You and Mai had known the consequences of restraining the quards and helping Zuko to escape. And yet you did it. Both of your wirsts were behind your back, bound with a rope, making it almost impossible to defend yourself. But honestly? In this state you would have no chance against Azula. Not even with Mai by your side. The only thing that kept you sane in that moment, was knowing that Zuko had made it out alive and safe. The princess made her move, bringing her fingers together to produce her flames, but it never came to that. Ty Lee blocked her chi faster than anybody could realize what was happening. Azula grunted and gasped as she fell to the floor of the plattform. “Come on! Let’s get out of here!” Ty Lee ran over to try and pull you and Mai away, but the guards surrounded you before you could attempt anything more. “You’re all fools,” Azula growled, still laying on the ground, until the men picked her up. “What shall we do with them, princess?” her face was disorted with rage. “Put them somewhere i’ll never have to see their face again!”

And now that Sozin's Comet was over, Zuko became the Firelord.

He looked like a true leader in the traditional robes, laced with red and gold. A proud expression graced his face, as you looked up at him. His smile genuine and happy. He'd become a wonderful man fit to rule the Nation. Grown more mature with his experiences, something that showed in the look on his face and his posture. And in that moment you were sure. Zuko had never been more beautiful than in this very moment. His amber eyes shined in the sun, glimmering full of love as he looked at Mai.

Deep down you'd always known that the two of you weren't meant to be. You'd known when you were little, playing by the water fountain, the two of them blushing whenever Azula teased them. Or when he was back, leaving the palace in the evening, going out to see her. And you'd known when Mai recieved a goodbye letter, before he joined Aang. Because you didn't.

Now you were stuck in the crowd, applauding the new Fire Lord. Watching as he was joined by the Avatar and pulled Mai into a hug. As the tears welled in your eyes, you felt a hand on your shoulder, squeezing softly. "You're not to blame, (Y/N)," Uncle Iroh's calming voice soothed your nerves, as it did so often before. "The heart wants what it wants,"

You nodded, throat burning from the bottled up emotions. “You’re probably right,” Like he always was. “Happy is her. It was never me,”

You, daughter of a former general, should now become advisor to the Fire Lord. But honestly? You couldn't. And you couldn't bare to tell him. Watching him with Mai filled you with joy. So much joy. And pain. Your two closest friends had found each other to form a beautiful bond. Who were you to take it from them?

So this time, again, Mai was the only one to recieve a letter. It sat on your pillow, were she'd certainly find it. The both of you had formed a habit when you were young, often sneaking into each others bedrooms once it was late, talking about every thought that clouded your minds. Everything but the fact that you were in love with her boyfriend.

Dear Mai,

I want to say that I’m sorry. I need to. By the time you’re reading this letter, i am gone. And i want you to know why.

First of all i want to apologize that you and Zuko will have to look for another advisor who will stand in my place, for i am not coming back. Please don’t search for me, or try to reach me. This is the path i have chosen for myself.

I don’t want to blame you for my disappearance, and yet i have to tell you why i had to leave. I am in love with Zuko. I have been since we were kids. Nobody ever noticed. And i never said anything, because i didn’t want to hurt you. I love you, Mai. I love the both of you so much, it hurts. And i can’t deny the fact that i would’ve liked to be where you are right now. But i know that you love him. And you make him happy. I can live with that. Though seeing you two together every day is something my heart can’t seem to bear anymore. I’m cursed to love someone i cannot have. I don’t want to have. Because i see how joyful you are, now that the two of you can finally be together. I don’t want to be the person to destroy that bond in my jealousy.

In conclusion i thought it would be best to remove myself from the situation. And from the position offered.

I’m going to miss you so much, you have no idea. I want you to know it’s not your fault. And that i am always with you in mind and heart. Nothing i have ever done was harder than writing this letter. No fight was ever more brutal than leaving you, my friend. I wish you all the best. And i love you.

Your best friend,

(Y/N)

You’d asked yourself often... why him? Out of all people, why did it have to be him? But if you had to be genuine with yourself, you knew exactly why. Zuko was someone who had to face a lot of trauma to be who he was now. To be who you loved. His strength, his humor, the way he rubbed his neck when he was embarrassed or the dimples in his cheeks when he smiled. You could name countless reasons why you loved him. But you also knew all the reasons why you shouldn’t. And Mai. The stunning, silent, wonderful Mai. She deserved everything and more. And spirits, you wished them all the best in this world.

"Thank you, Iroh," you whispered blinking back the tears, before you turned around and went. You left behind your best friends, the Fire Lord, your Nation. All was lost as you your back faced the crowd, climbing into the next carriage. It was finally over. Once and for all.

#zuko x reader #zuko x mai #mai x reader #zuko x mai x reader

[cosmiclatte28]

Spring Break (Hendery x you)

a/n : surprise! I am here with a Hendery oneshot, to all my Hendery lover friends here, please enjoy this light scenario!

featuring Jeno! and you as librarian

tagging @neopalette

here we go!!

It's another tiring day in your town's library. With Spring break happening, students happen to flood the room with laughter and chattering while they pick a book to read before school starts again.  Not that you dislike seeing the library full, you're even okay with letting them talk a little bit louder since no one is studying there, but you're super tired with the extra work to do.

First students happen to either return their books from last term or rush around the catalog computer to find a textbook they can rent for the next school year. It's funny when you see how those students who just come once or twice a year to rent textbooks, appear at the same time.

You are a book lover, you don’t really stick your nose to the pages but you love taking care of books and making sure their covers are still nice and their pages intact. You love rearranging books and guessing the plot from the title. But when it comes to cleaning up when you're closing ….that is a problem.

“I swear, why are there so many  books piling up today.” You sigh as you once again classify the books in a trolley with your colleague, Jeno, before returning them to the racks.

Jeno shrugs his shoulder “Because Haechan yesterday did not return the books into the shelf but just leave them here.”

You grunt “Ah Haechan! He really should learn how tiring it is for the next team to take two loads of work.”

“I guess some emergency happened, he's not the type to leave his job unfinished.” Jeno tries to cover up Haechan.

You roll your eyes “Whatever, now bring me those piles.” You point to the last pile of books and it's the fiction books.

“This is the most fiction pile I've received back this week,” you comment while arranging the title in the ordered alphabet sequence.

Jeno raises his brow “What's with this book? This is in hot demand.” Jeno shows you a cover you’re also seeing for the last week.

“Oh yeah! That book is always asked by students some even borrows it and by the time its back, someone else took it home.” You ponder. The title is not ringing any bell to you, you flip the pages but choose not to read this first and let the others finish it.

“I am not a bookworm too.” Jeno laughs when he realized he had been asking the wrong person.

Anyways you finish returning the books into their shelves with Jeno and arrive home four hours after your closing hours. Why?

Oh the bus that usually takes you home, happens to be not running today out of the blue. You are super tired from returning the books, you're hungry but your wallet was left at home and you need to walk to the metro to take a detour instead.

After the long way home where the seats are full, you arrive to your small shared apartment. Woah what a day, you thought.

With big hopes you open the door to expect seeing a cooked meal and your maybe your boyfriend

“Ah not my lucky day.” You yelp when you step into the room to see the total opposite.

“Don’t walk! Louis just misbehaves and peed.” He motions you to stay frozen on the door and you did.

Your eyes follow your boyfriend who's running to take dry towel to clean the mess you almost stepped unto.

“Woah, Louis what's wrong?” you pat the cat once you jump over the mess and close the door.

The cat just purrs at you and leans to your scratches more. You giggle feeling a bit better from the cute cat.

“Long day?” your boyfriend asks after he returns from tossing the towel away and washed his hands.

You nod as you drag your  chair and sit on the dining table “Got any food, Hendery?” you look around the kitchen.

No there's no food in the dining table, only jams and butter but no goodies.

Hendery scratches his head “I thought you ate already since you're coming home super late.” He glances to the watch. It's almost nine.

You drap your fingers on the table “Do we have ramen?”

He quickly stands up to check the cabinet and luckily you have some.

“Sit down, i'll make you hot ramen.” Hendery begins to fill the pot with water and boils it.

“Thank you,” you kiss his cheek when you walk to take drink out of the refrigerator. He kisses you back “Sorry I should’ve cooked you something, or bought you dinner on my way home”

You crack open a fresh cold can of beer and gulp it down “Don’t worry, I'm not gonna die.” You lean your back to the counter next to him and loosen up your uniform shirt.

“How's your day?” you question him in return.

He smiles “It was fun, I especially like the yoga class.”

You sigh “Lucky you, you know what you like and you can join workshops.”

Hendery turns the stove off and drains the water away “You can do that too. Maybe look for a sewing class? You look like you make a good tailor.”

You roll your eyes “Wow just one session and you're a funny comedian now!”

He scoffs and just shrugs his shoulder “Whatever, now here sit and eat before I finish everything.” He smiles as he puts down the pot and takes out the dining set for you

You smile “Thanks love,” you pick up your chopstick and begin digging in. J is playing with Louis across you, trying to keep the cat away.

“How is the library?” your man asks you when he sees you almost done eating.

You wipe your mouth “Quiet a day. There's so many books to return every night. There's this one person who always borrow books under one name but the person borrowing and returning it was never the same.”

Hendery looks puzzled and you mirror his face “I know I sound crazy, but that happens!”

He quizically looks at you “Maybe a coincidence?”

You shake your head “I don’t know, and this person reads like hella fast. A thick book can be finished within a day or two!”

“What is the name?” he sounds interested and you close your eyes trying to remember the name.

“Something chinese-ey… hmm wait let me think, I never remember this but I know when I see it.” You frown.

“And gosh the people borrowing the books are all good looking!” your brain remembers this instead of the name.

Hendery looks at you with a smirk “Oh hotter and more handsome than me?”

You quickly shake your head “No, I mean well they have their own charms.. one is super tall like a model, one has a pretty smile, one looks fun, one seems so mature and oh gosh the other has a pretty voice! I heard his humming.”

Hendery nods “That's 5” he shows up his palm and you raise a brow

“What’s wrong with that?” you gulp your drink.

Louis jumps from his lap “I mean try to look everyday like until Sunday? Maybe you'll see the real owner of the name?”

He sounds odd but nothing is ever normal with Hendery. So you play along with him

--

You meet the sixth guy on Saturday and you boldly ask if he is the owner of the name, to which the man with cute cat eyes sadly says no.

“Jeno, I am so confused with this mysterious person. They always borrow books but never show up. Why?” you ask on the night where both of you have to take overtime to return the books again.

Jeno laughs “Maybe they're busy?”

You scoff “Who is busy on a spring break?”

Jeno chuckles “We are.”

You sigh, he's not wrong…

“How can you find yourself a partner if you're cracking lame jokes.” You look at him with pity

Jeno pokes your stomach “Your boyfriend is also cracking lame jokes, yet he got you.”

You laugh, he's once again not wrong.

--

“Welcome, how's your Sunday?” You ask to the man with a sunglasses and a mask in front of you.

He feigned a “good"  which you miss since you're busy taking the card for the data.

“Name?” you ask, eyes still on your computer and book

“Huang Guanheng,” he answers shortly

You raise your brow and look up to see if this is another man. You frown when he looks down on his feet. Maybe he's shy, you thought

“Card please?” you reach out your hand that has a small heart tattoo on the wrist.

“Oh right!” he reaches for his pocket and when he hands his card to you, a sliver of his wrist comes to show and you gasp

“Babe?!” you stare in surprise

Hendery scratches his neck and pulls down his sunglasses “Yes?”

You swipe the card and quickly note the name “The hell? Are you also in this game?!” you sound a little bit furious.

Hendery bends to reach your height and gets closer to your face

“Correction, I am not playing a game.”

You scoff “Then what?”

He returns his sunglasses and leans back “I am Huang Guanheng.” He takes the book away from you and with a wink he flies away to the door. Each step he takes looks like he's in a runway.

All eyes are on him, well how can one not stare at a man with a black sunglasses, black turtleneck, red scarf  and long anime legs walking through the door

You still freeze in your spot and Jeno brings you back to life with a tap on your head.

“Ouch!”

“That was the seventh mystery? Who's next?” Jeno leans on the counter next to you and you tap his shoulder repeatedly

“That was Hendery!”

Jeno looks at you confusedly “Hendery? Oh as in your boyfriend? Oh he's in the mysterious game too?”

You groan “No. He is Huang Guanheng!”

Jeno bursts into a laugh “I don’t know who's silly here, you for not knowing your boyfie's name or you getting fooled by him. Either one, I have a great laugh today! Tell him he will be a great comedian! I can smell that already!”

Jeno laughs away to tell the other librarian and you still stare at the computer data and card with disbelief.

Huang Guanheng is Hendery, your own man. The same man you've been dating for three years. And today he surprised you with his real name.

  end

#hendery x you #hendery x reader #hendery x y/n #huang guanheng #hendery fanfiction #hendery imagines #hendery scenarios #hendery fluff #hendery #wayv scenarios #wayv oneshot #guangheng #wayv fluff #wayv fanfic #hendery fanfic #hendery nct #wayv hendery #nct hendery #nct fanfic