#i haven’t written proper no-comfort angst for too long

[cynicalmusings]

i think u have a good grasp of xiao’s character. how abt… the prompt “to play with fire” and xiao? — @milkstore

As the old human saying goes, ‘To play with fire risks getting burned.’ It serves as a warning against recklessness, overconfidence, arrogance; the aspects of man’s nature which goad us on to flirt with danger. 

To Xiao, the saying is meaningless. Why should one concern themselves with fire when they have already been burned beyond repair? When their skin is so charred, so coated with ash, that they feel nothing of the flame’s heat? When they are too used to the pain and the crumbling remains that it no longer bothers them at all?

Only once in Xiao’s life did he ever ‘play with fire’. It was not a matter of recklessness, though he supposes he should have been more careful; nor one of overconfidence—well, he admits he should have known better; or of arrogance (though the notion that he could trump the passage of time was nothing short of arrogant in hindsight).

The only time Xiao played with fire was for love.

It had been with a mortal. That was his first mistake. He knew how fragile mortals were; how quickly their lives came and went like a shooting star blinking across the sky, how they barely ever survived to a mere century. 

But he had been younger, then—foolish, then—and for a bright, shining moment, he had dared believe that maybe, somehow, this would not end in death like everything else for him did. That maybe, somehow, you would live a life long enough to spend with him.

Of course, Xiao had been wrong. 

The second mistake he made was letting you in. Once he let his walls down for you, he never wanted to build them back up again. He wanted to let your fingers roam his sharpest edges, cradle his softer ones, let you see and know every part of him as he laid his soul bare before you for your eyes only: the strong, the weak, the beautiful, the ugly. You did this, and you loved him, and he thinks he will never forgive you for it.

Building his walls back up again had been such hard work.

His third mistake was loving you back. 

If he had been playing with fire, then you were the flame: the one which warmed him, nurtured him, and ultimately left him colder than ever when you left, leaving nothing behind except for blackened, grey scars in Xiao’s mind where bright memories had one been.

After this, he learned why humans had their odd sayings, such as ‘to play with fire risks getting burned’. It was to prevent kindling that spark of pain before it could blaze into an inferno and consume everything in its wake until all that was left was ash, heartbreak, and skin too numb to ever feel again.

Xiao’s final mistake was that he learned it too late.

#when i first received this ask i didn’t envisage myself writing angst but there we go #i haven’t written proper no-comfort angst for too long #this was so fun #sent: milkstore #r answers #genshin impact x reader #xiao #xiao x reader

[lanitalay]

Back to the basics

Cassian x reader

Premise: Cassian has been working too much, reader is upset

a/n: hello loves, this is my first cassian fic and I'm kind of unsure about it since I've never written for him specifically but hopefully you enjoy it!

warnings: tiny bit of angst (minuscule)

Masterlist

“Cass!” You yell from the bottom of the stairs and wait for your mate to answer.

“Cassian!” Now climbing up, and a little agitated you walk into your bedroom and expect to see him sprawled out on the mattress. But the room is empty and the bed is cold. You roll your eyes and send Rhysand a mental insult. There’s only one place he could be. 

You had grown tired of asking him to take a break and rest. Maybe it was selfish, but you missed your mate. Wanted his attention only on you, like the old days. When he would whisk you away for picnics and spontaneous camping. You couldn’t say you were the outdoorsy type. Having been born and raised in the heart of the Rainbow, you were a proper city girl. But Cassian loved all of that, and you loved him more than what was rational. 

The door to the study was closed and you could hear him shuffling around in there. Probably frustrated with something happening in the Illyrian Mountains, or maybe Eris sent word of Beron’s newest antics. It must not be grave though, since no one called an emergency meeting. Whatever he was dealing with could wait. 

Once the tent and food supplies were packed you barged into the office. “I’m busy right now, sweetheart.” 

“Cassian, I’m going to say this with love. You are a workaholic.” He scoffed “just give me a few minutes-” 

“No! You’ve been in here for who knows how long. I supposedly have a mate but I never see him. We never talk and if we do it's “Devlan this” or "Kier that” or “Eris said” and I’m sick of it! I’m pulling you out. Come on.” You grab his arm and drag him out of the stuffy office. All the way down the stairs he’s complaining “sweetheart, I’m sorry but I have to work, it's time sensitive-” he finally stopped talking when he saw all of his camping gear packed up in the middle of the sitting room. 

“What-”

“We are going camping. Like we used to, you remember? When you still paid attention to me?” Cassian groaned, “I’m sorry I’ve been caught up with work-” 

“Nope. That word is forbidden. If you mention anything to do with work you will have to face… undesired consequences. I’ve told Rhysand to leave you alone for a few days. Let's go.” 

“Are we walking or..?” You smile, he didn’t put up much of a fight.

“You are flying us, silly.” Hand him the bulky gear and then open the door for him to walk out. 

“We can’t go too far if I’m going to be carrying all of this.” You jump in his arms and kiss him on the cheek “let’s go to that little island where we used to see the dolphins.” 

He considered it. The flight was longer than what he would have wanted but you had some precious memories there and he knew that you were trying to do something nice for him. “Alright.” 

After a comfortable flight, Cassian immediately set you, and all of the gear down. “What should we do first?” He asked as he looked around, trying to find a spot to set up camp.

“Let’s set up the tent, then go fishing.” 

Cassian nodded and pointed out a level patch of grass nearby. You begin by taking out the tent from the bag and organizing all of the little sticks and stakes in bunches so you knew how many you had of each. 

“Do you remember how to do this?”

“Well… I think this went together-” he snaps a few sticks together “and then it goes through the loops on the tent.”

“No, I don’t think that’s right.” You distinctly remember that the loops were for securing the rain tarp. Cassina sighed. “Sweetheart, I’ve set this tent up enough times to know how.”

“Well, sweetheart, you haven’t touched this tent in over fifty years so you’re probably misremembering.”

“Do you really want to fight right now?”

After a deep breath you reply “no, but you’re wrong. Those things go through these sleeves.”

Cassian did as you said and the tent was up in a matter of minutes. You grabbed the fishing rods and walked towards the shore. There was a dock that ended near a reef where fish were abundant. It was also the place where you and Cassian had your first kiss. 

Back then you were smitten with the giant Ilyrian but Cassian was sweating cold, unsure if you felt the same. He brought you here for a picnic and when the sun began to set you grew frustrated and asked “Cassian, be honest, do you want to kiss me?” He choked on a piece of cheese and struggled to articulate that “yes, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to kiss you and-” you pounced. Latching your lips to his and kissing him until you were both panting. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” You smile at him. Months later Cassian told you that he knew he was done for when you smiled at him like that, wild and wicked. 

“Cass?” He hums, eyes focused on the line he just threw, waiting for it to bob. 

“Do you still like me?” 

“What?” You throw your own line. 

“Well, we’ve been together for so long I sometimes wonder if you like me. Like if you saw me walking down the street would you still feel attracted to me?” 

“Of course I’d be attracted to you. You’re the most beautiful creature I have ever seen and I mean that as a fact not a compliment.” 

You give him a soft slap on his shoulder “you old sap.”

“What about you?”

“I think you only get more attractive as the years go by.” The fishing rod bends down, signaling that a fish took the bait. This is where Cassian always takes over and pulls out the catch with minimal effort. 

The sun was setting and you sat flush to Cassian, head resting on his shoulder as he hoped to catch at least one more fish for dinner. You were drawing idle lines on his hand and forearm, just how you knew he liked it.  “Cass?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it that I’m annoying to be around or something?” 

He shifted “what do you mean?” 

“Well you’re always doing something else and I… it sometimes feels like you’re taking on so much because you don’t want to come home and spend time with me. I mean today I had to drag you out of that study.”

 He sets the rod down and turns to face you. His hands come up to cup your face, he almost flinches when he sees your eyes, hard and unfeeling. He knows you’re bracing yourself for whatever he’s about to say and something inside him cracks. “Y/n, I… I’m so sorry if you feel that way but that is the farthest thing from the truth. I treasure our time together and… if I’ve been absent it has nothing to do with you.” 

He feels the roll of your eyes like a stab to the heart “you say that but you don’t even make it home for dinner most days.”

“It's just- y/n, we came so close to losing everything. The war, Hybern, the Cauldron- we are still here by pure luck. I was out there doing my best to keep you safe and it was not enough. Nothing I did was enough. But now we’re here and we know something is happening. Koshchei, Beron and who knows if Hybern had other allies looking for retribution. The only thing I can think about is that now the world knows Velaris exists and you are here if something were to happen… if another attack happens and you get hurt- that would kill me. So I try to stay on top of everything because it's the only way I can sleep at night. Sweetheart, I love you, I love you with everything that I am and everything that I’ll ever be. I’m sorry, just-” 

Cassian stops talking when you wrap your arms around him in a desperate hug, face buried in his chest. He hugs you back and his heart sinks as he hears you sniffle and moisture pricks at his skin. “Sweetheart you don’t need to cry- I’ll be home more, I’ll-”

“No Cas, you don’t need to do anything. I- I’m just so selfish and self centered. Here I was mad at you while you’ve been carrying all this burden and I could only think of myself. You deserve better than a spoiled brat and-”

“What are you saying?”

“I should be apologizing to you!” Tears are cascading down your cheeks now as you burst with emotion “please forgive me, we can go home right now if you want.” You begin to stand up but Cassian pulls you down again. 

“Don’t you see? You’re right. I’ve been obsessing over potential problems but I haven’t been home and you are entitled to react to that because I vowed to you to always be by your side and I’m sorry I failed you-”

“Don’t say that! You haven’t failed anyone. I just- I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

“So how are we gonna fix this?” 

“I’ll be home everyday for dinner and we can have lunch together in a cafe and-”

“Don’t suggest I train with you.”

“But babe it would be quality time spent together.” You giggle and wipe away the drying tears from your eyes. “I’ve seen you train and trust me, I’d die.” 

“Are we good?” You nod and crawl into his lap to straddle him. With both hands on his neck, you pull him towards you in a kiss that reminds you of your first. 

He deepens the kiss with a nip to your lower lip and his hands come to squeeze your hips. You pull away “do you want to-” before you can finish, he mumbled a “yes” and began carrying you back to your campsite where you would not be getting any sleep.

#acomaf #acotar #acowar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #acosf #cassian acotar #cassian #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #cassian x you #cassian x reader #cassian x y/n

[buttercupsandboys]

The Pickpocket - Alfie x Reader ❄️

Hello and Merry Christmas! 🎄 This is my super last minute contribution to @raincoffeeandfandoms Christmas Fic Event!

I haven’t written in a while (it’s been so long that I can’t even get onto Tumblr from my laptop 🙈) so I’m posting this from my phone. So please excuse if:

My writing is a bit rusty

The formatting is horrible (will try and fix later!)

Request: Alfie x Reader, hurt/comfort

Warnings: mild smut and angst (I hope!)

Summary: Sometimes life doesn’t go as planned, but with big risks come big rewards.

Word count: 2150

Camden Town, 1907

She wasn’t Jewish, and his mother would never approve, but fuck, she was beautiful.

Y/N had large eyes, like a puppy, framed by long thick lashes. Eyes you could lose yourself in.

And Alfie did.

She was a thief. A pickpocket and a good one too. But seeing as what Alfie did for a living wasn’t exactly legal, he didn’t hold it against her.

It didn’t hurt that she stuck to her own people.

In fact, Y/N seemed to find a certain joy in stealing from the Sunday crowds as they emptied from the churches like rain from the heavens.

Alms for the poor, she liked to say.

At nineteen, Alfie wasn’t a virgin, which meant he knew enough to worry for his young friend.

Although, in truth, he wasn’t sure about her age. Life on the streets made people cold, hard and brittle beyond their years.

But then Y/N’s eyes…

Those big, beautiful eyes would be a blessing had she been born to a wealthy family. He imagined her sheltered and protected while batting those long lashes at a line of potential suitors.

But there was no wealthy family.

There wasn’t any family.

Which left no one but Alfie to worry when those innocent eyes would get her into trouble.

Someone would take her.

Or maybe one day, too many pockets would turn up empty, and she would make a choice he didn’t like to think about.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Alfie grumbled as he watched Y/N slip through the crowds like sand through an hourglass. She flashed a wide grin as she approached, slyly presenting him with a silver pocket watch. He wasn’t impressed. “I saw him, Y/N. He was a big fucker. You’re taking too many risks, pet.”

“The bigger the risk, the bigger the reward,” Y/N teased, slipping a hand along the inside of his arm. It wasn’t proper, but it always made him stand a bit taller. “Don’t go soft on me, Alfie.”

He scoffed. “Someone needs to go hard on you. That’s the problem.”

Y/N stopped and spun around, looking him straight in the eye despite their considerable height difference.

“And that’s gonna be you one day, Alfie?”

He shifted uncomfortably, straining against his trousers, and wondered if Y/N knew what she did to him.

“Damn fucking straight.”

He saw her the next morning, dancing in the snow.

“It’s fucking cold, Y/N.”

“It’s fucking beautiful, Alfie.”

The holidays were approaching, and while neither cared much for tradition, there was no denying something in the air.

A festive spirit, you might call it.

As Alfie watched her catch snowflakes with her tongue, cheeks pink from the cold, he wondered if he could scrape together enough for a gift.

But Y/N would sell whatever he brought her.

Bread then.

“Alfie! Alfie, open up.”

Alfie groaned as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. His small flat was bitterly cold despite his mum’s attempt to warm it before leaving for the day.

He rolled over and decided to ignore the knocking.

“C’mon Alfie, it’s me. Hurry up.”

Sigh.

“Yeah, alright. Just a fucking minute.” He lumbered across the room and yanked the door open. “The fuck you want, Ollie—“

The words died on his lips when he saw her.

Y/N was half-conscious in Ollie’s scrawny arms, her eyes glassy and skin flushed. Alfie rushed forward to take her from him, cradling her small body against his broad chest and wrapping her in his warmth.

“I had a delivery this morning and saw her down by Bonny Street. I didn’t know where else to take her.”

Alfie cursed under his breath. “She told me she had a place to stay for a while with some girls by the docks.”

“Maybe she found trouble?” Ollie offered.

“You think?” Alfie snapped.

He tried to keep his temper under control, but he could feel it bubbling under his skin. He was angry at Ollie, angry at himself, angry at the fucking world. She was alone and sick, and what the fuck could he do for her?

“She needs a doctor.”

“You’re just full of helpful advice this morning, ain’t ya?”

They both knew there was no money for doctors.

Alfie pulled back his blanket and gently laid her on his bed, brushing a dark curl from her forehead. Y/N slowly opened her eyes.

He tried not to lose himself.

“There you are, sweetheart. How ya feeling?”

Y/N smiled softly but didn’t respond. Her eyes closed again, and his heart dropped. She was fucking freezing.

Ollie left for work as Alfie gathered blankets, his coat, anything and everything he could find to warm her, which wasn’t much. He stoked the fire and held her hand, silently urging her to wake up.

But then the shaking started.

“Y/N,” Alfie murmured, running his strong hands over the threadbare blanket, cringing at her tremors. She was so thin and so, so cold.

He knew what he had to do.

Hoping his mum wouldn’t surprise them by stopping home between jobs, Alfie stripped off his shirt and climbed into bed. Y/N curled into him, burying her face in his chest, her breath coming in shallow pants against his bare skin.

Alfie froze, panicking because she felt so right, but everything about this was so wrong, and he wanted so badly for her to wake the fuck up.

Because what would he do if she didn’t?

He closed his eyes and gave in, threading his fingers through her hair, pressing her closer, breathing her in.

They laid that way for hours, his heart swelling as she alternated between cold sweats and feverish chills.

And he prayed.

Her fever broke just before midnight. A Christmas miracle, she would call it. Somehow Alfie managed to scrape together enough for a room where Y/N could stay while she recovered.

The next day, a job went south.

Alfie was given a choice: serve his sentence or serve the Crown.

He enlisted shortly after.

France, 1917

The line wrapped around the block, and it should have disgusted him. It would have once; men lined up like cattle to rut with a few tired whores.

But after three years on the front, what was a cheap fuck next to the blood and the mud?

Nothing shocked him anymore.

Still, Alfie thought about leaving. He only had three days leave for the holidays, and he was bone fucking tired. The thought of a warm, clean bed was almost as tempting as getting his cock sucked.

Almost.

With a sigh, he dragged his muddy boots down the lane until a buxom Frenchwoman, looking equally weary beneath her thick makeup, accepted his money and directed him down the hall.

“Twenty minutes, monsieur!” she called out after him.

Alfie nodded but didn’t look back, keeping his eyes down as he opened the creaky door, grimacing at the smell of sex and stale cigarettes. He prayed she was quiet; he was in no mood for mindless conversation.

“A-Alfie?”

His head snapped up, and he froze.

She was older, but her eyes were exactly the same.

He tried not to lose himself.

“Y/N?” he whispered as his mind rushed to catch up. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away.

Alfie stepped forward, and his fingers reached for her, but it was like a dream, like reaching for the stars. His hand fell to his side when she didn’t answer.

“Y/N?” he repeated, his tone harsher than intended.

“What do you think?” she finally snapped, stepping forward and looking him straight in the eye despite their considerable height difference. “Why do you think I’m here?” she asked, softer this time.

Alfie had the decency to blush, feeling like a fool as he put together the obvious. One of his greatest fears had come to life. He wanted to apologise but thought better of it.

“Take a seat, pet. Let’s talk. It’s been a long time.”

“Talk?” Y/N laughed, and his heart ached because she looked so much like the girl he once knew. “You only get twenty minutes, Alfie. The madame is a strict one. Best make the most of it.”

“Fuck off, Y/N—“

She cut him off by stepping forward, gently tracing the scar on his cheek, still fresh, the skin raw and angry.

“You’re exactly the same, Alfie,” Y/N whispered, pushing the straps of her flimsy gown down her shoulders, wiggling as it slid over her hips, leaving her bare.

Alfie swallowed thickly, unable to look away.

“Always trying to take care of me,” she continued, pressing a soft kiss against his jaw, her breath warm, familiar. “How about this time, you let me take care of you.”

He groaned as their lips met, still fighting with himself. After all these years, he still dreamt of her, still thought of her small body pressed tightly against his.

Not like this, though.

But nothing shocked him anymore.

Y/N pulled his shirt over his head, and when he felt her bare skin against his, he stopped thinking. Nothing mattered, nothing but this.

After ten years, they had twenty minutes.

His calloused hands—the dirt embedded in his knuckles, under his nails, no matter how hard he scrubbed—traced down her spine to cup her bottom, pulling her tighter as his lips traced hers. Y/N whined against him, a sound full of so much longing his heart nearly broke, but then she found him, sliding her hand down the front of his trousers, and he caught himself matching her, note for note.

It had been so long since he touched anyone without intending to take their life. Now he was here with Y/N, and she was stroking him, sliding his trousers down his narrow hips as she led him to the bed. Alfie fell on top of her as she wrapped her legs around him, open and inviting, giving all of herself and asking nothing in return.

He cried out when he entered her, burying his face in her shoulder, his eyes stinging because it had been so fucking long. Now he finally felt at home—and how the fuck was he supposed to go out and fight a war after this?

But Y/N seemed to understand.

She wrapped him in her arms, arched her hips, and whispered the words he needed to hear. And when it was all too much, when the pleasure overwhelmed him, and he couldn’t hold back his release any longer, she fucked him through it, cradling his body, accepting him, scars and all.

Afterwards, they lay in silence, the clock ticking.

“Y/N,” Alfie said when his heart finally slowed enough for him to speak. “After the war—“

“Alfie, no.”

He raised his head, feeling confused, and ignored her.

“Y/N, when we get—“

“Alfie, stop!”

She pressed a thin finger against his full lips.

“Don’t make me any promises,” she whispered. “Hope only makes it worse.”

Alfie opened his mouth to protest but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Their twenty minutes was up.

Camden Town, 1921

Fuck, he hated the cold. It irritated his sciatica, and he had no choice but to lean heavily on his cane.

“Ollie!” He barked, feeling old beyond his years. “Make it fucking quick.”

Alfie checked his watch and grumbled under his breath about the time before slipping it back in his pocket. He was eager to return to the bakery—a shipment was going out—but Ollie insisted they drop off their annual donation in person.

On account of Hanukkah and all...

But Alfie wasn’t in the festive spirit.

What the fuck was this idiot doing?

It was late. The shipment was delayed, and Alfie was in a foul fucking mood. He wanted nothing more than to hurry home to his big empty bed and sleep off the day.

But someone was dancing in the streets, holding up traffic.

He pressed loudly on the horn and cursed.

“Ollie!” Alfie roared.

His assistant popped his head around the corner, somewhat hesitantly, knowing his friend-turned-boss and recognising his bad temper.

“Yes, Alfie?”

“Have you seen my fucking watch?”

Ollie raised a brow in confusion. “Your watch?”

Alfie exploded. “Yes, Ollie. My fucking watch. It tells the time.” He patted his pockets helplessly. “It’s always fucking here, and now it’s not.”

Ollie opened his mouth, but before he could respond, a melodic voice floated in from the hall.

“It was a bit risky. You are a big fucker.”

Alfie’s jaw dropped as she walked through the door, Ollie taking one look between them and making a quick exit.

“But you know what they say,” Y/N continued, slowly walking around the desk and smiling. “The bigger the risk, the bigger the reward.”

She had large eyes, like a puppy, framed by long thick lashes. Eyes you could lose yourself in.

And Alfie did.

The end ❄️

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x y/n #alfie solomons fanfics #alfie solomons fanfiction

[sukirichi]

sweet angel

With a heart of gold, sweet lips, and white lace all over your body — he’s pretty sure you’re his sweet angel.

REQUEST. lingerie under his white button up shirt for gojo + somnophilia + established relationship + oblivious reader

CONTENT/WARNINGS. smut, somnophilia, mentions of insecurity, very slight angst, creampie, cockwarming, body marking, UNEDITED

NOTES. I haven’t written Gojo for a while but I sure do missed it! We’re gonna have more Gojo content this week too! if i finish my wips anyway lmao

next

The clock blinks back a painful three am to you, the time way past what Gojo’s promised. You don’t stop the sigh leaving your cherry red lips as you stare at the mirror, jaw clenching at the sight. Today’s supposed to be your second anniversary with Gojo, and instead of spending it on a skyscraper dinner like last year’s, you both insisted on staying at home for a more romantic date instead.

Him being the strongest sorcerer, it’s only a given that he’ll be busy, even to this day. He’s unable to take a day off, but he promised to come home on time.

The dinner’s gone cold, the candles melted and aroma of roses sticking hard to the walls. You’re wearing his favourite black dress paired with ankle boots, wrists clinking from the bangles and makeup done to perfection. Today’s supposed to be simple, quiet, and romantic – especially with your surprise for him – but he’s still not home.

Washing your face in the sink and covering the dishes, you blow out the candles, heading back to your shared room to call it a day. You swipe your dress with Gojo’s white button, wanting to feel that he’s still with you even with just his scent.

A blaring red that reads three forty-five is the last thing you see as you burrow deep into the covers, trying your best to ignore the panging in your heart.

He promised he’d be home soon.

“Honey! I’m ho—” Gojo blinks at the darkness of your penthouse, hands patting the walls before flicking on the lights. He’s not surprised to see that it’s neat as usual, but then his gaze lands on the dining table, and that’s when he realizes he’s fucked up.

The candles are already melted halfway, one wine glass still and the other already washed in the sink. You must’ve taken a few sips as you waited for him; an image he can imagine already. He’s admired you long before dating you that Gojo’s used to your habits, like how you’d rotate the drink in your glass three times before you drink, tongue darting out to taste the wine mixing in with your lips.

He knows all this, mostly because it always drives him crazy when you do that, and he’s lost count of the times he’s pushed you up against the counter, shoving his tongue between your lips to find out what it is about wine and flavoured lipsticks you liked so much.

It’s a little hellish to him the more he thinks about it, even more so because you’re completely unaware of your effect on him.

But he’s not the only one, since no matter how perceptive Gojo could be, he’s scatterbrained more often than he likes to admit. And of fucking course he forgot tonight was your anniversary. He never set dates on his calendars, waving his hand and confidently stating he had an ultra memory and didn’t need reminders.

Well, now that ultra memory is reminding him of the last time he’s forgot to attend your work event, a time you needed him more than anything else, and you didn’t talk to him for a week straight.

He wishes you would shout at him, push or shove him even, call him names and tell him he’s horrible, but you’ve always been a sweet, little thing – you’re timid even in your frustration. You never glared at him, never scolded him, and it’s even more terrifying because you’re still so sweet to him – preparing him meals, giving him a kiss before he leaves for work – but Gojo isn’t entirely dumb. He notices how you turn away from him in your sleep, your arms that would usually be wrapped around his torso now hugging yourself in an attempt to make yourself small and invisible.

That’s how you felt every time Gojo doesn’t keep to his word.

Unseen. Unloved. Unheard. Unimportant. He’s no mind reader, but it’d be pushing it if he can’t even turn to your thoughts like that.

And even in your slumber, it’s written all over your face, evident in the way tears are staining your cheeks under the sheets. Gojo sighs upon seeing your crumpled form on the bed, your dress hanging neatly from the closet and your heels placed beneath it. He crouches down in front of the shoe, his hands crumpled into fists. This wasn’t just any shoe – it’s the one he made you get during that time you were debating whether you could pull it off, but he encouraged you that you looked gorgeous in anything. Despite having bought it a long time ago, you never wore it, only on this day because you trust your comfort and safety around him; one he’s so effortlessly crushed.

Gojo quickly changes into his pyjamas not long afterwards, sliding himself next to your body in slow, careful movements to not wake you up. Aside from a slight stir, you remain deep asleep, the frown permanent and deep on your face.

It breaks his heart to see you like this, especially because he knows he’s the one who caused it.

Gojo runs his hand across the apple of your cheeks, caressing your precious face on his palm before leaning forward to kiss your head. You smell amazing too, and yet, you’re uncomfortable with whatever’s playing in your head. He could take a good guess and assume it’s him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs into your skin, sliding his arm over your body to pull you close to him. “I didn’t mean to forget, I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

He knows he should apologize when you’re awake, but he wants to say it now before his guilt eats up at him. Gojo’s eyes flutter close when his hands come into contact with something...lacey, and he pauses, lifting the sheets to inspect the material. He doesn’t really know what he’s expecting, but his breath stutters anyway, his aquamarine eyes zeroed in on his shirt draped over your form, the top three buttons left open and you’re not wearing shorts.

Gojo curses under his breath. His reaction is immediate; blood rushing to his groin and legs nudging yours apart. He doesn’t bother hiding under the sheets not anymore as he runs his hand over your body, his touch suddenly so cold in contrast to your warmth.

He’s fucked you a lot of times in different places and angles, so he shouldn’t be so nervous, yet he is, and his hands are fucking shaking.

His head snaps to your one more time, revelling in the way you open your legs just as he pries them apart. Even in your sleep, you’re still so trusting, so wanting – so perfect for him. Gojo situates himself between your thighs as he unbuttons your shirt one by one, his teeth clenched so hard it wouldn’t be anything surprising if he actually cracked his jaw.

You’re nothing short of looking like an angel; the thigh straps squeezing the flesh of your thighs and exuding such heavenly beauty he’s stunned.

You let out a sigh at his erection rubbing you through his boxers, completely unaware that Gojo’s fallen back on his thighs, eyes wide at the white lingerie set clad in your body. He licks at his lips, debating which land he should trudge on first.

The thigh straps he wants to rip with his fingers, the white lace panty that’s already nearly transparent with your arousal, or the frilly cups holding your breasts in place?

This is the first time Gojo’s gotten close to losing his mind, and lose his mind he did. Thoughts of making it up to you flies out the window, his emotions running turbulent with anger and regret in place. If he’d just gotten home, if he’d just killed the curses faster, he could’ve kissed you and heard you beg for him in your awakened state; he’d have the pleasure of seeing you squirm under him while he rips this pretty set apart.

His dick throbs harder at the fact you wore this for him, but you must’ve been so tired and sad to wear proper pyjamas. Should he be thankful? Angry at himself for making you feel this way?

He doesn’t fucking now, his mind is nothing but a mess as he sucks a wet spot into the juncture of your neck, large hands groping your breast. You mewl a little at the contact, neck arching to the side while you sigh, that slight dip in your brow a telltale you must be still in a sleepy daze.

“Fuck, baby,” he mutters through pants as he cups your mound, only to be met with such astounding wetness. You look so innocent right now in comparison to your soft moans that it ruins him. You’re a good girl, such a sweet lover for him that you’re always letting him take in charge under the trust he’ll make you feel good. This trust is extended even in your wildest dreams, but you don’t need to worry about that. He’ll soon make it a reality.

Gojo is too needy that he doesn’t bother pulling your thong off anymore, pulling it to the side with two fingers before his thumb flicks at your clit. He’s rewarded with a sharp inhale, cheeks planted to the pillows and you look so pretty, so hauntingly oblivious that the only thing able to pull the strongest sorcerer limb by limb apart is through your needy wet cunt.

He aligns himself with your entrance, groaning when his tip is coated with your slick, the warmth of your pussy radiating off of him. It’s fucking stupid that Gojo shivers, and he knows it’s pathetic because he chuckles, lifting both your legs up before he hugs them to his chest.

You’re so wet that Gojo no longer finds the need to prepare you, his eyes falling down to where your bodies connect, breath taken away at how your lips eagerly spread apart to take him in. He’s a little too big for your tiny, sweet pussy that your lips pinch into a flat line, chest rasping up and down.

He wants to apologize, wants to caress your face and look you in the eyes as usual to tell you that you’re doing good, just breathe and the pain will be gone soon.

The situation deprives him of that privilege, so he’s left with no choice but to kiss your ankles affectionately before thrusting all the way in. A loud moan echoes around the room the moment he’s seated in, dick throbbing inside your heated pussy that’s so tight it’s nearly suffocating.

“Oh, my baby,” he thrusts in slowly, not wanting to completely wake you up despite the fact you’re unconsciously grabbing the sheets already. “My sweet, pretty angel – I’m so sorry daddy couldn’t fuck you tonight but look at you, you’re so wet,” he bites your calf at the last word to muffle his groans, the tight sucking in of your pussy to his length making his cock throb. “Did you touch yourself when I was gone, hm? You must be so unsatisfied, but I’m here now, I’ll take care of you.”

Gojo’s unable to keep his promise to you before, but he’ll definitely keep this promise now. He leaves little love marks at your skin, reaching forward to tug the cups of your bra down. He’s rewarded with the intoxicating luxury of watching your breasts bounce at his pace, your nipples the only thing stopping the material from completely falling.

You mewl at the pleasure he’s giving you, the constant friction of your hardened buds against the cups must be so heavenly by now, and you’re tightening around him, walls clamped down over his dick that Gojo never wants to let go.

He thrusts harder this time in response to your greedy sucking, his tip kissing your cervix. You throw your head back deeper into the pillows, hands patting every spot beside you. He knows that look all too well – mouth falling open, eyes shut tight, brows pinched together and that angelic little pant – it’s the face you always wear when you’re about to cum and Gojo wants to make it up to you, pushing your legs to the side before heaving his weight forward.

“Aw, baby,” he coos, “Coming already?”

The sudden stretch in your body only has your walls sucking him harder, his hips stuttering in its pace. Gojo kisses you flat on the lips as his hands thread to yours, squeezing it momentarily just as pleasure washes over him too. You come first, the spasms of your cunt similar to that one time you’ve accidentally gripped him too hard in your hand that Gojo’s cum suddenly landed on your eye. It’s tight, too fucking tight, that Gojo actually loses the ability to breathe.

His hips snap harder, dick driving deeper into your hole that’s already leaking out with cum. Your precious lingerie set is ruined, guaranteed to get him another pout that Gojo shakes his head, gripping hard at your hips while he chases his own high.

“I’ll get you another one, angel, I’ll buy you – fuck! – all the sets you need if it means dressing pretty for me like this,” he stutters in one breath, mouth latching around your nipple. He tugs at it in his need to reach his breaking point, no longer caring that you’ll wake up anytime soon, not when he’s so close and the squelching of your pussy sounds like heavenly music to his ears. Gojo thrusts in one last time hard enough that his balls make a loud slapping sound against your ass, but he doesn’t slide out, keeping himself right deep into your cunt in his orgasm.

Breathing heavily, Gojo falls on top of you, thankfully still strong enough to not crush you with his weight. He’s leaving fluttering kisses all over your face, your sweat slicking his skin.

He wants to pull out from the sensitivity, but you feel so warm and comfortable that Gojo plops down to the side, hugging your back and kissing your shoulder with panted breaths. You’re still recovering from the tremors of your orgasm that’s most likely still a dream to you, body trembling in his arms. Gojo does you a favour by throwing your bra to the side, his hands acting as a replacement for the missing piece.

He sighs onto your neck, barely managing to properly cover the both of your bodies in his exhaustion after a long day. He holds you close and tight in his arms, an I love you merely audible from his lips, followed by a regretful I’m sorry.

Gojo dreads tomorrow morning, in all honesty. There’s no easy way to explain that he “simply forgot” after all your efforts, his heart already darkening with the fear of seeing you pull away like you did the last time. His eyes droop down as he makes a mental note to just do whatever he can, but you’re stirring in his arms, lips puckered at the edge of his jaw.

“Satoru,” you whisper, hands tracing patterns on his chest. “You’re home. I’m glad.”

Soft snores follow after that, but Satoru is wide awake just as you’ve fallen asleep once more. He’s left speechless, and he doesn’t hold back in hugging you closer to his chest as a silent promise of never leaving you alone again. Even now, you’re still such a sweet angel, and how lucky is he to find someone like that?

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo-satoru-x-reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru x reader smut #gojo-satoru-x-reader-smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo satoru imagines #gojo x reader imagines #gojo satoru x reader imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader imagines #jujutsu kaisen gojo satoru #gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader smut #satoru gojo smut #im not a gojo simp but...mans is fine... #suki: 500 milestone event

[yoshkeii]

"𝙰 𝚜𝚑𝚢 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑"

࿐ character(s): Ushijima Wakatoshi, Daichi Sawamura, Kuroo Tetsurou

࿐ genre: sfw, soft/fluff, comfort, tiny angst if you squint

࿐ type: headcanons (hcs)? / imagine

࿐ requested by: @dumpsterfireinc 

⌦  shymale!reader (he/him)

⌦ ‘if I can request comfort hcs for Ushijima, Daichi, Kuroo, and Oikawa who have a crush on as shy male!reader who thinks the boys should be with a girl and not him.’

A/N: i had to drop oikawa on this one since i cant seem to get his personality out?? i- uh-. i apologize- also my way of writing hcs is weird? idk why i like writing like that, but eventually they’ll shift- somehow- (i’ll probably make a proper hcs post if you want-)

1-16-2021: sorry in advanced if this took waaay to long. im doubting my writings. kinda shit but im just burnt out.

𝚄𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚓𝚒𝚖𝚊:

❀ Ushijima had a crush on you. of course he would, someone so soft, gentle, and shy. he actually found it cute you having those aspects. even though not a lot of people would enjoy such an introverted person at times.

❀ being shy would fit well together with his own personality generally. like being stoic and quiet himself. at some points he genuinely thought you and him were perfect. just two puzzle pieces that could fit together.

❀ he doesn’t know when he had a crush on you till Tendou or someone would bring it up. cause he always somehow had his eyes on you in the halls, classes, etc. 

❀ adding on to his personality, he is very blunt and straightforward with his words. and when you heard those three words from the intimidating captain. made your heart skip a beat, muscles tense, and mind race.

❀ “..y-you.. like me??” the softened tone in your voice echoed within the empty afterschool halls.

❀ “Yes. I just stated that.”

❀ “..I heard you.. you dummy..” you muttered the last words softly. fiddling with your fingers nervously, he always found you fidgeting with something whenever you were nervous or put on the spot. your gaze kept low.

❀ the silence only just settled. making Ushijima await another word from your smaller figure.

❀ but he didn’t expect those words to slip out of your mouth. he never did.

❀ “Why.. Why would you want to be with me.. instead.” your voice still kept your softened tone, but it had a faint hint of sadness. the slight wavering of your voice gave way.

❀ “..isn’t it better to be.. with a girl instead? t-they’re better options. pretty. talented. i-i don’t.. have any of those.”

❀ Ushijima just stared, unsure on what to do. no one told him this would be a scenario or a possibility. thought it was simply just a yes or no to a confession, something quick.

❀ “You also won’t l-look.. weird.. o-odd.. with-” your voice cracked, tears gathered in your eyes. quickly wiping them away with a sniff.

❀ “F-fuck I’m sorry.. for c-crying..” softly cursing as you nervously laughed.

❀ “y/n,” Ushijima lifted your head gently with his hand making sure your eyes looked up at him, “..I don’t care, if people will look at us weirdly. I don’t care if they all knew or not.”

❀ he wiped the tears dripping from your eyes as you stared at him with disbelief.

❀ “I like you. No- I love you. That’s that. I love y/n, and nothing will stop that.”

❀ shortly, tears poured from your eyes from his words. softly murmuring apologizes for crying over this accompanied w/ a smile on your face. Ushijima just wiping your tears away for you, seeing how your face just melts in his hand in comfort. regaining composure after a couple of reassurances from him.

❀ “I-I.. I love you.. t-too.. Wakatoshi..” 

𝙳𝚊𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚒:

❀ mans had a big crush on you ever since you both had multiple shared classes. especially same homeroom.

❀ Daichi and you had an decent relationship, it wasn’t as close like he has with Sugawara or Asahi. having the same homeroom, he always found you alone and minding your own business a desk or two behind him in the back.

❀ sometimes exchanging the simple hellos and small talk whenever Suga and/or Asahi dared him to. knowing how his eyes occasionally drifts towards your direction of the room.

❀ for someone so quiet.. he didn’t know it could be a cute feature. an adorable one if he would say so himself. just seems too s o f t .

❀ your gentle voice always made his heart skip a beat, it was so calming. a remedy to his ears. after a few small talks and interactions, you both managed to hang out a little more often. being invited on study dates sessions since you were also pretty smart in the academics (brownie points!) 

❀ as of right now, his eyes were simply glued on you. just watching you talk about whatever subject. he really wasn’t paying attention... or at all. admiring your features from across the small table on the floor that was littered with notebooks, textbooks, papers and pens.

❀ he knew you were shy so he often kept things low and safe for you whenever you both hung out once in awhile. sometimes exchanging little sticky notes with each other to limit talking.

❀ once he confessed to you, through the last sticky note of his. not a manly way to really confess but he couldn’t figure anything else out for you. didnt want to scare you away.

❀ you stared up at the captain in slight doubt, going back to the note to reread the words written. ‘would you like to go out with me?’ tiny hearts here and there on the note.

❀ looking back up at him, you noticed the slight blush across his face. you realized he was serious.

❀ “..why would you want to go out with me?” your grip on the note slightly tightened, as thoughts began to flood your mind. “wouldn’t it be better- be better with a girl?? a-and.. not me.” you began to slip on your words, gaze slipping down to avoid his eyes as you noticed him looking up at you now.

❀ “..with.. a girl?” Daichi mustered out.

❀ “or.. anyone but... me. I’m not.. popular. I’m not.. p-pretty, c-cute.. handsome.. s-smart either...”  you began to ramble, negative thoughts after another.

❀ “H-hey y/n. y/n..!” Daichi was closer to you now, his hands on your shoulders hoping to get you out of your negative trance.

❀ it successfully worked, making you stop but your gaze still remain low. hearing a sigh from Daichi made you tensed, you liked him too. you loved him. but you don’t know if it was best for him to date you. or be in a relationship in that matter.

❀ Daichi wrapped his arms around you, “Don’t be so harsh to yourself. I denied most of the confessions... j-just.. to ask you out one day you know. I’m confident I want you more than any girl.” he muttered.

❀ noticing you relaxing in his arms made him slightly smile, feeling you hug back. your hands grasping the back of his gakuran, mustering the urge to cry you hid your face on his shoulders. eventually muffling out your soft sobs and various ‘i love you too’

𝙺𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚘:

𝚊/𝚗: 𝚐𝚘𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚒𝚏 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐.

❀ it was obvious Kuroo was crushing on someone. and that someone was you. being one of the assistances, or at this point the team would’ve eventually called you their manager. often there to aid and help whenever needed so you stumbled by the gym many times to either drop something off for one of the members or coaches.

❀ always teasing and flirting with you, which wasn’t such an out-of-character of him. knowing him to be the master of provocation. but often when you weren’t there, he would start talking about you. unconsciously sometimes.

❀ which gave a big sign of his feelings, especially through Kenma. it wasn’t so hard to see, but you were dense and oblivious over it.

❀ he knew you liked him back eventually, seeing how you haven’t turned him down with any of his teases accompanied with the slight blush on your face each time. you were just too shy to say anything about it.

❀ he was aware that you were very shy and introverted. always seeing you staying back or infront of crowds in the hallway and avoided them at all costs. being observant he took note of it.

❀ always managing to catch you away from people or just a little people in the area, he used that time to talk to you more privately.

❀ you both began to get to know each other pretty well each time.

❀ exchanging interests and moments you’ve had in your life. often making you giggle at his silly retorts and remarks, funny moments of his teams and others. he was genuinely seeing a new side of you.

❀ never really seeing you smile brightly and laugh without holding back. it felt surreal and a literal dream.

❀ “Hey, y/n, have you dated anyone yet?” Kuroo looked over at you, eyes staring in curiosity with his common sly smirk.

❀ “I-.. uhh.. n-not yet?” you nervously laughed, messing with the sleeve of your nekoma track jacket.

❀ “Well then.. do you have a crush?” he continued on. 

❀ “O-oh.. Ye-yeah! He probably won’t like me b-back though..” you murmured.

❀ “Wait- He!?”

❀ “H-hey,, Kuroo! Keep y-your voice down please..!!” you playfully punched his shoulder in return he faked an ‘ow’ “..b-but.. yes.. i like a guy.. h-he’s popular so i doubt he would like me b-back.” you looked up at him with a weak smile, hoping to not seemed phased by it.

❀ “Ahhh.. why’s that then.” his curious tone turned stern, tilting his head into his palm so it rested comfortably. “hmmm~?”

❀ “Oh.. w-well.. he’s popular with the girls.. a lot of them a-actually. I bet he l-likes them more than me.. girls are b-better for him anyways...”

❀ “What if they weren’t? He could be gay.. or bisexual... or pan and all that jazz y’know y/n?”

❀ “Thats true.. what about you kuroo-san?” you took a sip of water from your bottle aside of your thigh. 

❀ “I have a crush too of course. And its actually you.”

❀ you choked on the water, coughing out a reply, “w-wait you.. you like me.. me- back?!” you only looked at him with disbelief, coughing slightly still.

❀ Kuroo only laughed at your off-guard reaction, “K-kuroo!! I-it’s not funnyyy..!” you whined, covering your face with your jacket. “hhhh.. g-god damnit..”

❀ after a few moments it went silently, peeking your eyes out from your hidden position Kuroo pecked your forehead. Suddenly aside of you, entwining his hand with yours.

❀ “Of course I like you back~ I want you to be my boyfriend you softie.” 

#at-dusk;- 🌆 #folder 📁;- 𝙷𝚊𝚒𝚔𝚢𝚞𝚞 #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu x reader #x reader #kuroo tetsuro x male reader #daichi sawamura x male reader #ushijima wakatoshi x male reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #daichi sawamura x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #Ushijima Wakatoshi #Daichi Sawamura #Kuroo Tetsurou

[waywardimpalawriter]

Laundry Day (Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Female Reader)

Laundry Day

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Female Reader

Bucky Bingo Square: Domestic AU

Characters: Bucky Barnes,

Setting: two months from the ending of “Hey Bartender”, set in the Marvel universe but canon diverged the snap never happened.

Rating: M (Mature), +18 only please

Warnings: cursing, mature themes, angst, longing/yearning, idiots pining for one another,

Word count: 3,002

Summary: Sunday’s the dreaded laundry day when there’s not a stitch of clothing to wear except the man your currently crushing on, soft Henley shirt.

Notes: Bingo Square fill and written for the lovey @autumnleaves1991-blog​ and Write Wednesday prompt.

Tag list: @buckybingo​

You’ve heard it many time, how cool you own a bar. Can drink whenever you want. Let me drink for free. Last thought getting a snort from your lips while looking through the laundry pile. The main reason owning you a business sucked you never get a day off to do normal shit like the fucking laundry that seems to pile up before you know what’s happened. Wondering if like rabbits it multiples while mating.

Huffing out a resigned sigh, tossing the last article of dirty clothing back into the basket thankful you wouldn’t need to schlep the bags to a local laundromat. Instead could get a little light cleaning done while the built in laundry room, a big thank you too granddad for putting the room in, did at least part of the work.

“Fucking hate laundry day,” low growl leaving your lips and tugging on the only clean clothes left.

Hefting the plastic basket on to your generous hip, grabbing the towel off the bedroom doorknob to add and heading towards the small room just off the bathroom to the left. Dropping the basket down you go back out to put on some music. Grabbing up your cell phone happy to have brought large capacity storage so your whole collection could fit. Setting all of Lady Gaga’s music on shuffle ‘Monster’ flowing through the small speakers positioned around your living room in specific areas for optimal sound quality. Wide hips swaying to the beat black Henley brushing the tops of your thick thighs incased in shorts, knee high socks keeping the rest of your legs warm and helping you slide across the oak wood floors. Not caring what you look like at the moment, expecting no one to show up on an early Sunday morning.

Bright smile slides over your lips the song changing to ‘Born this way’ belting out the words thankful and not for the first time you don’t have neighbors. Owning the whole building does come with certain perks. Meaning it didn’t matter how loud you got no one would call the cops on you for excessive noise or lousy singing. With those thoughts in mind you head back to start sorting clothes getting a load going, grabbing the swiffers dust clothes, mop and bucket on your way out.

Leaving the last two by the kitchen island, spinning back body moving to the beat of the music. Picking up bits of trash making you frown for a moment, knowing you weren’t that messy but shrugging off the thought tossing the trash. Starting to dance around, straightening lamps, running the dust cloth over the expanse of hard wood furniture and nick knacks from your childhood. Getting into the rhythm, beat caressing your body, tingling your senses making you move in ways you wouldn’t show another living soul only these four walls.

Finishing up the living room, you stand back to catch a breath admiring your handing work when ‘Shallow’ starts to play. Bradly Cooper’s smooth tenor caressing your ears a soft sigh leaving your lips. Your body starts to move to the melody, slow and sensuous, arms wrapping around your tummy as you sway. Twirling as Lady Gaga’s voice takes over, stepping around the couch that faces towards the tv positioned in the middle of a brick wall. Bursting out to sing the chorus, you keep swaying picking the tempo up. Draping your body backwards over the couch careful not to knock a lamp off the side table. Grabbing up a remote to use as a makeshift microphone, singing your heart out to no one but the empty room or so you think.

Raising back up slowly to spin away still belting out the lyrics breathlessly, wide smile on your face happiness thumping through your veins. Feeling freer than you have in a long time all thanks to a song that comes to an end with loud clapping ringing through your apartment. Making you scream out and throw the remote towards the source of the nose. Squeak existing your breathless lips that hang open staring at Bucky Barnes’s imposing figure filling the doorway of your apartment.

Catching the black plastic wrapped remote in his flesh hand before it landed against his chest, smirk sliding over those oh so kissable lips. Not that you haven’t dreamt of at least a couple nights a week. “Fucking hell Barnes how long have you been standing there?” Quickly moving towards your phone to cut the music.

Turning to take in his rumpled appearance. Chestnut hair tucked back into a messy ponytail few wisps hanging out to frame his face. Sculpted by the finest artists all angles and edges begging for your lips to caress. That’s graced with shadows of a sleepless night of tossing and turning in a to soft bed and a floor too cold for comfort. Sold wall of muscle that is his shoulders and chest covered in a wrinkled green Henley top button open to bare just a hint of collarbone. You try not to lick dry lips at the peek of skin wanting to bury your nose in the hollow of his throat and nibble to see what sounds you could drag from those sinful lips. Snapping back to the present when he begins to speak before your wondering eyes could take in the bottom half of his fackable body. They lock with his for a moment longer than proper catching the dark circles and weariness he tries to hide behind that boyish smile.  

“Long enough,” clearing his throat to push down the arousal building up. In truth he tried knocking first, pounding followed with a couple of shouts of your name to accompany. Hearing the music spilling from behind the close door Bucky pulled the key you gave him last month out to let himself in.

Unprepared for the sight his eyes would land upon after pushing the old hard oak door open. Music hitting him square in the ears, not unpleasant a tune but a touch loud. However, that’s not what caught his eyes, no it’s the way you moved around the apartment to the melody. Body swaying, rolling and bending in ways that had him gritting his teeth to keep from stepping forward and pulling your soft body against his strong chest. Wanting to fill the spot of invisible partner, dipping you in his arms, wrapping them around your thick waist. Teasing the column of your throat with his lips after bending you backwards over his arm.

You’re a fucking temptation to his body and damnation to his heart and soul. One Bucky Barnes would gladly partake of if he didn’t feel so tainted, hands coated in invisible blood, mind splintered with nightmares of memories and lies. He wouldn’t saddle you with him as a burden. He’d push those feelings back bury them, accepting the friendship you offer and a shelter from a world he’s yet to fully grow accustom too.

Hands on your wide hips, scowl contorting your beautiful features, “I didn’t give you that key so you could barge in whenever you like Bucky.”

“I brought breakfast,” pointing towards the little white bags on the small wooden table by the door. Giving you the saddest puppy eyes he could which only makes you huff and roll your own.

Shaking your head, “You think you’re cute don’t ya Barnes?” Trying to infuse a touch of anger into your tone but it comes out more playful teasing than growling menace.

“Of course doll, you wouldn’t have me any other way,” wiggling his brow, scooping up the bags to follow you into the kitchen. Kicking something over he looks down teasing smirk slides over his lips before giving way to a playfully sheepish look, “Guess I finally kicked the bucket huh?”

Trying to hold back the laughter but it comes out on a snort that has a deep gruff laugh issuing from Bucky which in turn makes you giggle harder. Holding your stomach as it aches from the mirth lighting your features. Taking notice of the fact years have disappeared from the weariness he normally carries. Eyes sparkling in early morning sunlight shining in from the kitchen window. His beautiful steals your breath for a moment as you calm down, turning to start the Keurig, reaching for the pods of coffee you keep just for Bucky.

“Incorrigible Barnes, sit ya ass down while I make coffee,” couple of short giggles break free with another shake of your head.

Placing the bags down before dropping into his usual seat, “Two…”

“Spoonfuls of sugar no cream or milk I remember along with the dark roast that’s your favorite,” shooting him a smile. Grabbing your cell, changing the music to shuffle your whole library, turning the volume down so its more background noise than actually listening. “What brings you by this morning? Besides taking ten years off my life of course.”  

Snorting at your quip with trying to hide that he’s smitten by the fact you’ve memorized how he likes his coffee. “Hadn’t seen you in a week doll, thought I’d drop in with breakfast and see if you need help with anything down in the bar.”

Taking a few moments to actually looking over your plush frame. Big mistake because he notices how those shorts mold to your wide hips and thick thighs begging for attention. Knee high socks shouldn’t look so damn sexy but on you he’s shifting in his seat to take pressure off the erection building in his jeans. Eyes dancing to take in your upper half damn near choking on his own spit at seeing you wear his Henley. Stretched out with age and use from his days in hiding and a little thicker in build. The way it stretched over your lush breasts cupping the generous globes outlined for his eyes to devour. Flowing against your tummy he wouldn’t object to laying his head on while cuddling into your body. Wanting to place kisses and nibbles on the skin hidden from his widening cerulean eyes. Shocking him back to reality with you placing a steaming mug of coffee in front of him.

Palm going to his forehead, “Really doll, what exactly are you feeling for?” Glancing up to search your turned down face. Catching the soft scent of Egyptian musk, mixed with clean linen and something sweet added that he’s sure belongs solely to you.

“Seeing if you have a fever, you checked out on me there for a few moments Barnes,” gently pressing the pads of your fingers into his neck, counting a pulse and sending goosebumps to skitter across his body.

Taking the hand from his body, the urge to pull you into his lap strong with your warmth radiating into his. “I’m fine sweetheart honest just lost in thought of this beautiful dame I know.”

“Lucky woman,” slowly pulling your hand back tramping down on the hurt flashing through your body. Heading back to start your own coffee, “Make yourself at home as usual,” shaking your head watching Bucky toe off his biker boots and prop his mismatched sock feet into the closest chair. Rolling your eyes, “Way to comfortable,” exasperated quip leaving your mouth as you head back and change laundry over.

“What’s with the get up anyway?” Not wanting to shout, Bucky followed to lean against the door jam of the all to small room. Coffee mug hovering near his lips thankful for not taking a sip when you bent over to add cloths to the dry.

Plush ass on display for his eyes to map, flesh hand tightening around ceramic mug while vibranium plates whirl with a clinched fist at his side. Tempting isn’t even a word he’d use to describe the torture your presenting him with. Quickly averting his eyes to the ceiling, but not before catching the peek of silken looking skin his shirt bares while sliding up. Searching now for something to distract himself. Before he did a very stupid thing like pull you into his arms and see if you fit against him like he’s imagined one too many times. Burying his face in your neck and tease the tender skin with three days worth of beard wanting to see if you’re sensitive and ticklish.  

Brought back from those sexual thoughts when you speak, words tossed over your shoulder, “It’s all I had to wear, everything else needed washing. Price I pay for owning and running my own bar,” shrugging you bend to pick up the next load swearing you hear a groan from the man behind you. Yet when you turn he just gives you a smile that seems to make his cerulean eyes dance.

“Ah that explains why you’re wearing my shirt though not how you got it,” against better judgement, Bucky reaches out to tug the hem. Baring a briefest hint of cleavage to his desire darken eyes, with all three buttons open. He swallows harshly taking a bigger sip of his hot coffee than meaning to but the slight burning mouth pain distracts him from those thoughts that could get him into trouble. “I’m not complaining doll just curious if you’re stealing my clothes when you come over to my place.”

Snorting, “It’s not your shirt Barnes, your clothes wouldn’t fit my wide ass,” placing a hand on his shoulder to push him out the doorway. “If anything it’s from a pervious boyfriend and just stretched out.” Though you can’t help but glance down at the shirt racking your brain to remember who left it behind. Till you remember not having a boyfriend for the last couple of years and even then you didn’t let them keep stuff at your apartment. Only Bucky, who has his own key and drops by when he needs a break from the Compound and Avenging. Eyes widen in shock at the realization that in fact this shirt belongs to Bucky and must’ve got put in with your laundry one of the last times he stayed the night after a bad mission.

Deep in thought, you miss the low growl leave his throat at the mention of other men or the way he frowns when you insult yourself. “You have a gorgeous ass doll stop putting yourself down,” gently grabbing your upper arm to spin you around and face him. “And yes that is my shirt, there’s a stain,” swallowing hard but still brushes his fingers over the darken slightly yellow patch between your breasts. “Right here, it’s dripped mustard from a Coney dog about three weeks back remember. We went to Coney Island since you never went, sharing the cotton candy and almost getting sick,” soft chuckle leaving his parted lips. “You’re laughter at the corny shows, riding the Ferris wheel, I almost felt normal for once,” vibranium hand dropping back to his side, he heads to the table and plops down into his previous seat. Cursing his actions, head cradled in his hands hiding from his behavior and you. Wanting the earth to swallow him whole for his stupidity in voicing those words instead of keeping them bottled up. For touching you without asking permission, but God does he want a repeat and this time not let go.  

Frozen by his words, heart aching for how he still feels, the searing touch of those cool metal fingers, but most of all by the realization he remembered a day you hold dear to your heart. Eyes close for a moment to gather your thoughts, taking a deep breath and heading for your cooling coffee. “What’d you bring for breakfast?” distracting them both of you from the elephant in the room.  

Head popping up so quickly your sure he’s cracked his neck, half smile tugging at his lips, but not reaching his eyes, “Your favorites of course.” Reaching for the bags to pull out a small assortment of breakfast pastries.

“Trying to fatten me up Barnes?” You jest though back peddle at the scowl Bucky sends you. “Okay, okay I won’t do that again,” hands up in surrender but under your breath, “till your gone.”

Caught in mid sip, “You do know I have superior hearing right?”

“Your point Superman?” Bringing your mug with to sit down on Bucky’s left.

“I heard what you muttered,” grabbing the cream cheese kolache and taking a health bite while keeping eye contact with you.

Shrugging, “Then I’ll keep those thoughts to myself from now on,” picking out your favorite pastry to nibble on. “Oh and don’t worry I’ll get your shirt back to you once the rest of my clothes finish. I’m sorry it’s so stretched out.”

“One of these days doll,” muttering the rest to himself. Thoughts running through his mind on how much he’d like to bend you over his lap or better yet spread out for him to taste. Till you understood the beauty held in your countenance, the sway of your wide hips and plush body. Learning just what you do to his body and heat. But he knew those imagines held a deeper sway than you’d let anyone else see. Ones needing more than searing touches and intimate kisses but true actions to show you the truth.

Confident on the outside but tormented by dark thoughts and self doubts. That revelation skitters across Bucky’s mind like hot iron dunked into cool water, shocking his system to how similar though different as well, in ways he didn’t want to examine not yet. Registering the last comment Bucky looks up at you, tracing the features of your face, how your body looks in his shirt with golden sunlight bathing you in a warm halo. Speaking the words before his brain can shut them off, “Keep the shirt doll it looks so much better on you and by the way you didn’t stretch it out I did.” Flashing you his patent smirk before taking another drink of lukewarm coffee. Never so thankful for laundry day, stretched out shirts and the beauty sitting next to him.

#Bucky bingo #Writer Wednesday #Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Female Reader #Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Fem!Reader #Bucky Barnes x Plus Size F!Reader #Bucky Barnes fiction #Pining/yearning

[fallasleepscenarios]

𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂 𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓼𝓸𝓶 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓽 [bakugo x reader]

type: one shot, angst, fluff pairing: bakugo katsuki x reader (gender not specified) summary: (Y/N) and Bakugo have not established their relationship, leaving (Y/N) to question their whole "friends with benefits" thing. And it all goes down to what happens when they attend Kirishima's party. rating: R for implication of sexual act word count: 2.4k disclaimer: I do not own any of the mha characters and all of them are written as if they are of age also posted on my wattpad one shots book

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

"You're so silly. Get your butt here."

Bakugo shrugs and pouts angrily but eventually lets his body fall on me and weighing me down on the couch as I try to lift him off me. I laugh at his silliness, knowing that this is the best way someone like him can show affection. He lets his guard down so rarely after all, doesn't even want to show softness, ever. Only with me he does. He can be mellow, can't express it in words easily though.

"Tsk, I don't want to go to the stupid party with all the stupid bastards", he growls while finally making himself comfortable without hurting me.

"You promised! Besides, everyone's waiting for you", I run my fingers through his hair, "You know how much Kirishima has been waiting to see you!" I could tell by his look at this was somehow enough for him to accept attending the party with me. All his UA classmates would be there.

"Whatever! I have to train." In a swift move he gets up and leaves the room, like he always does.

"Bakugo--! Wait!" he stops without turning to look at me. "D-Do you wanna spend the night?" I gulped.

"I have to train", he says and leaves.

And at times like these, I ask myself, what the hell am I really doing. Having a crush on Bakugo Katsuki? That's far enough. Establishing a relationship with him? That's so far beyond the line of sanity. More times than not, I question myself for any signs of emotional masochism, because this really doesn't feel like a mutual feeling. Yes, he can be soft and sweet, would never admit it, though. Yes, somehow, he does like me in a sexual way, at least, or maybe considers me as a way to relieve stress? The past three months and a half have been so exciting, and I've been.. happy. But..

This really isn't enough for me. If only I could do anything to make him say what's in his mind, 'cause his actions really really don't match with his words. And then again, well, whatever, never mind, it could all be way worse for me..

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

On the day of the party, Bakugo was supposed to pick me up at 8 and head over to Kirishima's together, since I've never been to his place before. I put extra effort on picking an outfit I like and felt pretty cute and confident in it. At 7:45 I was already by the door, tying my shoes and receiving a text message by Uraraka-chan.

[19:45] From: Uraraka-chan<3 I can't wait for tonight! Deku-kun will also be there, haven't seen him in two weeks! Don't be late Y/N :D

I smiled at myself and happiness overflew in me. Don't want to jinx it but tonight sounds ideal; Bakugo agreed to come, I'm going to see everyone, even Midoriya found time off his strict training schedule, and Uraraka-chan is very happy, as well, I am glad.

But as I waited for Bakugo, the clock turned 8. And then 5 minutes after 8. And then a quarter past 8.

Normally, that's acceptable, since when one is late, they probably have informed you beforehand. Or at least, an apology is waiting for you at their arrival. Oh, but when Bakugo arrived..

"What took you so long?!!" My mood, the outfit I wore that I liked, the excitement, all had disappeared.

"SO WHAT, I had training to do! Deku has been training all week!", he snapped back at me and frowned. "Let's go damn it!"

"You're unbelievable-! That's how you treat me?!" This time, I was not going to take it.

"Tsk, you don't understand"

"At least you could have told me you were at practice..! Not arrive, what, a quarter to 9 and not even apologizing for keeping me waiting?!"

"YOU attacked me right when I arrived, when I would I apologize?!"

I refrained from saying anything else. I didn't want to completely ruin my mood for the party.

"Okay, stop." I let out a sigh. "Let's go. I really want to enjoy the party. I even wore that outfit that it took me so long to come up with, I really wanna enjoy it.." I closed and locked the door behind us and Bakugo just stared at me.

The road to Kirishima's was quiet. I caught a few glimpses of Bakugo walking by me and leading the way. Surprisingly, he didn't say anything at all. We passed by the river, it was beautiful and I so wanted to comment on the cherry blossoms showing as the path alongside it.

I tried not to overthink about this but it was bothering me, that Bakugo didn't even consider my feelings. He stood me up. This definitely isn't what you expect of your partner to do. Details like this, how he never calls me just to talk to me, he never texts me "good morning" or "good night" like my friends' significant others do, how we've never really agreed to have a proper date but always meet up at home, eat inside and are secretive, I don't like that. I think I am the only one in this relationship.

Heck, there is no real relationship. Friends with benefits, after all.

"(Y/N)! Bakugo-kun! You've arrived at last!" Uraraka-chan was the first one to greet us by the door.

"I'm sorry we're late, I asked Bakugo to pick me up since he lives so close-by, but he was training and couldn't leave early", I felt my cheeks flush up. Everyone's attention was on us and I didn't like it. "Besides, Kirishima-kun! Thanks for having us!"

Thankfully, I quickly felt comfortable and no one talked about how they've been waiting for us. We had a fun time, joking around, eating cakes that Sato baked and listening to what everyone's been up to on their vacation. I was able to forget about Bakugo's attitude, but every time I looked at him, it all came back to me, so I tried to avoid him as much. But still, I was able to catch glimpses of him, noticing that he never looked at me too. I am better than this.

I got up to pout myself some water and when I came back I noticed that Deku had joined Uraraka and they were cheerfully engaging in conversation by themselves, so I decided I wouldn't go back to Uraraka and third wheel them. Instead I decided to get some fresh air and went outside. The cold wind felt so nice on my face but I could tell I'd soon be cold enough to return inside.

"Y/N!", I didn't even hear Kirishima opening the balcony's door.

"Kirishima-kun, are you having fun?"

"For sure! I'm glad you could bring Bakugo with you. Wasn't really sure he'd come, since he's been eager to train as much as he can during the vacation time, but maybe having to accompany you made him responsible to come" Kirishima smiled and he'd never looked so innocent to me before.

"Ah, I just guess he came for you Kirishima-kun. You're his best friend after all."

We laughed and I suddenly felt really soft and comfortable talking about Bakugo with him.

"Kirishima-kun, you're great.. I wish I had a relationship with someone like you!"

And then I realized what I just said. Kirishima turned red and I no longer felt cold outside.

"Y/N, I-I don't think I like you like t-that.."

"Ah! No, it's okay, I don't think I do either.."

What am I saying, I know I like Bakugo.

I know he said he didn't like me but the vibe sure felt weird and tense and somehow comfortable. I could so simply say things like these with Kirishima and it did feel awkward but it was okay, we could sit in silence. And it was easier to stay outside now.

But then he called out my name, and I couldn't read his face. He surely thought that I might like him now. I noticed Bakugo was arguing with Iida-kun by the door, when Kirishima raised his hand to cup my cheek and-

"Can I kiss you?" he whispered.

Why am I not pulling back? Maybe he wants to find out if he'd feel something.. maybe I do as well. Bakugo wouldn't even care anyways. He wouldn't be the least jealous if he saw us.

"Yes", I whispered back and closed my eyes only to feel his soft lips on mine.

It lasted a few seconds but I knew for sure that this wasn't what I felt when I kissed Bakugo. Kirishima was now smiling softly as me and I knew we were on the same page. And this will be between us and nothing will be affected. Except that something caught his attention and he gasped ; I turned to see who else other than Bakugo staring at us.

He looked mad, but doesn't he almost always?

Suddenly I felt overwhelmed with regret towards him.

He wasn't supposed to get jealous, he has no right to!

"Ah, Bakugo saw us maybe", Kirishima shrugged, "He probably thinks we're stupid hahah"

I chuckled, not to make my uncomfortableness look so obvious and we headed back inside, since Bakugo had also disappeared from the entrance.

The rest of the night I felt so out of place and it was hard not to show, but I had to. Spent it mostly chatting with the girls and playing cards and board games.

But soon enough, it was time to go.

Midoriya had already left and so had some of the others that aren't late nighters, and I felt tired from all the tension of the day. I was glad that I had some fun though.

"I'm off, everyone!" I greeted them and put on my shoes and coat.

"I'm going to. Have to train early tomorrow"

I froze. Bakugo was also leaving and this could only mean he wanted to confront me.

I waited for him to be greeted by everyone as well. It was inevitable, we'd go the same way anyways.

But Bakugo didn't say anything. He started pacing fast and it was kind of hard to keep up.

When we reached the cherry blossoms, Bakugo stopped.

"Are you stupid? Why did you do that?!"

He was indeed jealous!

"What does it matter to you even!". Tears were forming in my eyes, I felt so guilty! But it wasn't entirely my fault!

"TO ME? That you're stupid?"

"What does it matter to you??! It didn't even matter to me!"

"Then WHY DID YOU DO THAT"

Bakugo turned around but he wasn't looking at me.

"..I.. don't know... I was curious.. "

"Tsk, 'curious', what even..!"

"I was, okay?! Kirishima was being so nice to me..."

"And you had to be stupid?!"

"STOP it! Okay? This, this is why I did that. Because I can no longer pretend that you care about me! You made that clear today!"

"I don't go around doing things a scumbag would do!"

Bakugo was starting to redden up, he had become really angry..

"BUT YOU DO!" I shouted, glad that we were the only ones on the street. "You do, when you're late and don't inform me, you do when you're embarrassed and secretive of me, you do when you never really tell me what's on your mind"

"You.." he frowned. "And YOU GO AND DO THAT"

"YES because MAYBE, MAYBE HE would actually LIKE me!"

He seemed to be taken aback. And I was properly crying. And I felt the cold wind against my face and hands. It was too bad we're ruining the effect of the beautiful cherry blossoms.

"Stupid.. STUPID STUPID STUPID", he was now pulling his hair in anger.

"Bakugo, stop! What are you doing!" I rushed out and grabbed him by his shoulders forcing him to look at me. And I felt guilty and sad to see him this angry but this had to mean something.

He looked away, avoiding my gaze at all costs.

"I should be asking you why are you being like this now..", I said softly. "It.. hurts to think about this, but did it feel like you were losing towards Kirishima?"

No answer.

"I'm sorry anyways, I am too tired to argue anymore and I'm sorry I kissed him. I.. didn't think it'd make you angry"

"Tsk, what are you apologizing for, loser.."

Bakugo's voice was soft and quiet..!

"I should be the one saying sorry. I FAILED don't you understand? I didn't make my feelings clear to you"

What?

"All this time, I've been failing to this, I don't no a thing about romance"

What?

"And you never even said anything, either! You just went along when I first kissed you!"

I had nothing to say. Suddenly, everything seemed so meaningless, because he was opening up to me.

"Bakugo.."

"No, shut up, you listen to me now. It drives me crazy cause I can't concentrate and think about you all the time! I LIKE YOUR STUPID ASS"

This can't be for real. I've always wanted him to open up but I never..

"SAY SOMETHING"

"Can you.. say that again?", I was too startled.

"Weren't you listening?!"

"No, I was, it's just that I liked hearing you say that.."

I'd forgotten I'd been holding him weirdly and suddenly felt conscious about being so close to him, when I've been closer to him so many times before, but not like this.

"Tsk, I like you stupid ass, stupid", he frowned jokingly and it was his turn to wrap his arms around me. "I like your stupid stupid ass."

My cheeks have probably never flushed as this much before.

"I like you"

He kept repeating and I felt like I could faint.

"And I promise, I won't ignore my feelings anymore and I won't be USELESS!"

I backed away to look at him.

"Bakugo,.. does this mean, we're really together?"

And Bakugo blushed!

"Yeh" he simply said.

I couldn't help but smile and the cherry blossoms were beautiful around us.

Then, Bakugo tightened his grip on my waist and brought me closer. He kissed my cheek and looked at me again. And I couldn't decide over staring at his eyes or kissing him that moment.

But I couldn't bring myself to stop, I leaned forwards and felt his soft pouty lips against mine, his warmth transmitting to my skin. And we didn't pull back for a few moments.

"Do you want to stay over, Bakugo?"

And he nodded excitedly as we walked home together.

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

#katsuki bakugo #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugo one shot #one shot bakugo #bakugo fluff #bakugou fluff #bakugo angst #bnha one shot #fallasleepscenarios #bakugo imagine #bakugo scenarios #scenarios bakugo #bakugo x y/n #mha x reader #mha bakugo #my hero academia one shots

[satoruvt]

for a moment i forget to worry

pairing → xu minghao x reader

word count → 3196

genre → fluff + angst, college au ↳ tags: strangers to friends to lovers </3, college kinda sux, ROOMMATE CHAN MAKES AN APPEARANCE OR TWO, dance major minghao, reader is completely lost but its ok who isnt, lots of cute couple stuff, pov ur entire relationship with minghao. thats it, a sad break up scene, a solid amount of crying

summary → there’s something about minghao. maybe it’s the way he dances, vibrant and youthful, or maybe it’s the way he loves you. based off of hunger by florence + the machine.

warnings → i hint at sex but its pretty vague, i also mention a breakdown type deal (revolving around school/life after school)

a/n → first of all this was NOT supposed to be 3k words i dont know how it happened. second of all i’m only kind of happy with this HAHA i feel like the story itself isnt bad but i wanted it to match the song more ... idk :/ i hope u guys like it regardless !!!

pieces of you masterlist

The first time you see him is by accident.

Really - all you’re doing is trying to find Chan. You’re passing by the practice rooms, looking into them in hope he’ll be there, stopping to gaze at decorations and medals and trophies lined up on the walls. It’s when you approach a room that music plays from that you think you’ve found Chan, but when you gaze in, it’s definitely not him.

You don’t know who it is, but he moves like nothing you’ve ever seen before.

It’s hypnotizing, almost makes you want to drop your things and dance with him. There’s a sense of youth that comes from him and it’s almost overwhelming - but it’s not in energy, necessarily, but rather from the precision of his movements, the technicalities that he seems to both follow and break at the same time. Something vibrant seeps out between the seams of his body, colors you can barely recognize as they splash against anything they can reach. It’s almost tangible. 

You watch him long enough for him to finish his performance (an unknowing one) with the last notes of a song you forgot was even playing. His eyes meet with yours, slow as he completes an eloquent turn, and at the same time, a hand meets your shoulder.

A small wave of embarrassment washes over you, and you turn towards whoever touched you, effectively breaking eye contact. “What are you doing here?” Chan asks, hair still wet from what you assume was a shower.

“Looking for you,” you tell him, following as he starts to walk towards the exit. “I wanted lunch, and you owe me for that time I took your British literature quiz for you.”

Chan groans but agrees to pay, and you laugh, though the world seems a little paler than it did a few moments ago.

The second time you see him is by chance.

(Maybe.)

You’re waiting for a lecture to start, tapping your fingers against your laptop idly as you watch students trickle in last minute. It’s not a strict course, but it does start at nine in the morning, and most everyone shows up with a coffee.

You look down to brush a stray hair off of your table, and when you look up again, the dancer from before walks through the door, then looks right at you.

You feel a blush heat your face and it’s like he wants to make sure that you know that he knows, because he almost refuses to look away. You break eye contact first (like the last time, you remember for no reason) but still watch as his figure moves up the stairs, past the rows, and you hope he’ll just move past you too…

He doesn’t. He takes the empty seat right next to yours, and you don’t say anything, instead finding the peeling sticker on your laptop incredibly interesting. The professor comes in and decides that today he’ll take extra long to set everything up, apparently, and you want to scream.

“So,” the dancer says, voice quiet. It takes your breath away, the way he sounds. “Mind if I ask why you were watching me the other day?”

You cast a glance at him - not too long, you don’t think you could handle more than five seconds tops - and finally open your laptop so it makes you look busy. “I was waiting for a friend.”

“And?”

The smile in his voice is palpable. You’re already exasperated.

“You…” you start, finally deciding to look at him as some sort of subconscious power move. “You’re a beautiful dancer. It was hard not to watch.”

Beautiful doesn’t even cover half of it, but you figure he already thinks you’re weird for watching him, so you hold back the thoughts of youth and vibrancy and color. The dancer looks at you, almost blank for a moment, before a soft smile draws itself on his face. It makes your heart beat a little faster. He says “thank you” with a gentle tone, sincerely felt.

The class starts, and the two of you don’t speak throughout the next hour and a half. You type out notes on your laptop and you see him write down names of the paintings being shown on the projector, little thoughts and notes written afterwards.

By the end of class, your professor assigns an optional partnered project, and you’re more than prepared to head back to your apartment and start on it yourself. The dancer stops you before you leave, however, asks if you’d like to be his partner.

(And he says it like that, would you like to be my partner, polite and somehow sweet.)

You know your answer. “I don’t even know your name,” you stall, standing from your chair. 

“Minghao,” he tells you. “I’m Minghao, and I’d like for you to be my partner.”

You say yes easily, put your number into his contacts even easier. The sky is blue when you leave the lecture hall, trees dotted with pink and purple flowers, and it is all so bright that you forget it wasn’t this way in the first place.

The third time you see him is for school.

Underneath the excitement of giving Minghao your number, there is the knowledge that it’s for the sake of an assignment. He texts you the day after to ask if you’re free to meet up to work and you tell him sure.

(Sure is what you send back, but he doesn’t have to know that you burst into Chan’s room immediately after, plunging face first into his bed just to scream into his pillows. Chan had sighed, turned around in his desk chair to look at you, then asked what happened. He gave you two minutes to rant and then kicked you out, back to your own room.)

You and Minghao agreed to meet at the library on a day that neither of you had any afternoon classes, and you get there early, spend some time working on other classes. You have somewhere around thirty minutes to freak out to yourself before you see Minghao come in, dressed like he knows what he’s doing to you (which is really just a hoodie and jeans, but you think it’s the cap that really pulls the whole boyfriend look together), smiling when he finds you at a table in the corner.

“How are you?” is the first thing he says when he sits down, and you pull down your laptop screen a little to see him better.

“I’m good,” you say, feeling your heart pound. “What about you?”

Minghao sends you a kind smile. “Really good. Should we get started?”

You lose count of how many times you see him after that.

Meeting up to work on the project soon becomes just meeting up, and after the project’s done and turned in, it happens even more. You hang out and get lunch, send each other texts and stupid videos, take walks around campus together. The weeks pass, summer mellows into fall, then into the early days of winter. You develop a genuine friendship with him, finding comfort in his presence, looking for him wherever you go. 

(Although the crush is still there, potent and patient, stubborn in a way you’ve never experienced before. You wonder if it’s a sign of some sort.)

You’re in one of the practice rooms with him, sitting in the corner. You had a class nearby and he’d wanted to practice a little more, so you told him you’d work on your own stuff while he finished up and then the two of you could grab something to eat.

But you made a small error on your part - the dancing. You’d forgotten the way he moves (you haven’t seen him dance since that first time) and in no time at all you’re letting your screen go dark in front of you and watching him. Honestly, it’s not your fault, you really can’t help it. 

But of course he notices.

Minghao meets your eyes through the mirror and raises his eyebrows at you, and all you can do is look away, desperately try to get your laptop up and running again so at least it seems like you weren’t watching him for too long.

“You’re staring,” he says, long after you’ve looked away.

“Sorry,” you tell him anyways, immediate, quick. 

Then he says, “I never said anything about stopping.”

In a second, you look up from your laptop and up at him. He moves closer, crouches in front of you. His eyes are kind - they’re never not - but you think you see something a little more in them. “Sorry, I think I missed that last part,” you respond, blinking. Minghao smiles like you’re endearing.

“I said I want you to keep looking at me.”

You think you’re barely breathing when he shuts your laptop for you, slides it off of your lap and onto the floor (gently, with care, and it’s a wonder to you how he can focus on that right now). He practically crawls over you, one of his hands eventually reaching the junction of your jaw and neck and holding there. “I’m gonna kiss you now, if that’s okay,” he says, but doesn’t move. You nod as soon as his words reach your brain, eager and quick.

And the next few hours get a little wound up in your head, a little mixed in with the feeling of his body - that moves so youthfully, with so much vibrancy that it reaches everything around you - melting into yours and the sound of him asking you to tell me what you need, honey, and the still-playing slow jam music he was practicing to.

You watch him sleep next to you, hand curled around yours against his pillows, and think that nothing bad could ever touch him.

The two of you… come together, after that.

Neither you nor Minghao use any proper labels, but you both seem to know. No labels are needed, really. You have each other and that’s all there is to it. And everything is really good.

You work together and laugh together like you’ve always known each other. He tries to teach you to dance with him when you’re in the practice room with him, pulls you up by your hands and guides you through your giggles. He was the first person you called when you realized that you had no idea what you were working towards, didn’t have a clue what you actually wanted to do with your life. He gets along well with your friends and you text his because they’re basically yours, now, too.

Winter turns back into spring, slow and easy. Vibrant and youthful. You’re not able to meet Minghao’s parents, but he meets yours (and you’re sure a quick introduction to his mom over a FaceTime call has to count for something). The two of you take advantage of the newfound warmth of the season and try to get out as much as you’re able to, with picnics and city dates and anything you can think of. A drawer in his dresser is reserved for your things, you bought an extra toothbrush for him to use when he stays over.

You watch him dance. It still feels like the first time, like color and breathlessness. You tell him he’s beautiful every time, feel yourself fall a little deeper when he still gets bashful amidst his comedown. You tell him you love him for the first time after he gets done with a performance - a proper one, for a showcase of the dance club he’s in. He says it back.

You think he put all the stars in the sky just for the two of you to gaze at them together.

Things shift the beginning of your junior year.

Minghao tells you about a program he’s applying to, a proper dance academy in New York that could really kickstart his career. Training under some of the best choreographers and performers in the world.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask him after he tells you, and he shrugs, leaning back in his chair. You’re studying at his apartment tonight.

“It’s just…” he frowns. “It’s so far away, you know?”

Oh. You hadn’t even thought about that, too caught up in the excitement of him being able to apply at all. A quick sigh leaves your lips, and then you reach for his hand, hold it between both of your own.

“That’s okay,” you tell him, though now that you’re thinking about it, you feel nervousness in the pit of your stomach. “We can work something out, though, when we get that far. We’ll figure it out.”

Minghao nods, a fond look in his eyes. He pulls one of your hands to his lips. “We’ll think about it if I even get accepted,” he says.

It’s bittersweet, but a promise nonetheless.

Fifteen minutes after you get a call from Minghao, there’s a knock on your door. 

You wouldn’t necessarily say you’re worried, but, well. Everyone’s experienced the jump of anxiety when they get hit with the “I want to talk to you about something” line. Nonetheless, you stand from the couch to open the door, mentally preparing yourself for any and everything. 

“Hey,” you greet when you see Minghao, opening the door to let him in. His face is unreadable. “Everything okay?”

He walks a few steps into your apartment, waits for you to close the door before turning back around to face you. Then he holds up a piece of paper, the creases from where it was folded still bending. You send him a confused look.

“I got in,” he says, a grin breaking on his face, and you blink, then feel your jaw practically hit the floor. Minghao only nods like he understands, and before you know what you’re doing, you launch yourself at him, holding him close.

“Oh my god, Hao, that’s amazing,” you say into his sweater, then step back to get a proper look at him. Youthful, vibrant. “I’m so proud of you.”

He seems to soften at your words, pulls you back into him again with a gentle kiss to your head. “Thank you for believing in me,” he tells you, tenderness palpable in his voice. All you can do is squeeze him tighter.

Minghao spends a lot of time away from you after that.

You’re not really hurt in any way - even though he got into the academy in New York, he still has to practice. You get it, this is important. He doesn’t text you as often, isn’t able to stop by as much, and you miss him, but you know how much this means for him. But it gets… weird, almost, after a while. Strange, even for him. It feels weird that he’s set to leave at the end of January and it’s December and he’s distant.

Both of you are laying in your bed, looking at the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling, when you decide to bring it up. “You’ve been… kinda far away lately,” you start, nudging him with your shoulder gently. “Everything okay?”

His eyes stay on your ceiling, but you feel the way he sighs. “It’s about the program,” he says.

“Okay.”

“And about… you and me.”

Oh. That doesn’t… sound the best. “About, like… what we’re gonna do?”

Minghao nods.

You say, “I wouldn’t mind visiting every so often. It’d be hard, but I’m sure we could find something to work.”

Minghao shakes his head, says, “no.”

You pause, and when you look at him he’s already looking at you. What does he mean by no? Does he want you to move with him? Or does he -

He reaches for your hand and you think oh.

His eyes are a little glassy. You feel the tears come, too.

“Oh,” you say out loud. Minghao squeezes your hand. “So this is… this is it?”

Your room is suddenly cold, and you want to crawl under the covers and stay there. The person in front of you is blurred into something unrecognizable, but you can’t be bothered to blink away your tears.

“I think so, love,” he whispers back to you. “I think it has to be.”

The two of you cry like that for a while. In your bed, loosely intertwined and broken. Even the way Minghao cries carries a kind of vibrancy that’s overwhelming, makes you think of the first time you saw him so long ago, and now -

When you manage to get a better grip on yourself, you ask him if you can still see him off at the airport. He says, “I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t.”

Then you ask if you can kiss him again. He responds by kissing you first. 

And it’s sad, it tastes like salt and sorrow and you feel like the promises you never got the chance to make are broken. It feels like the most beautiful blue you’ve ever seen, and you know it’s only a branch of Minghao’s color.

He leaves soon after that, pulls on his shoes and his coat and turns around at the door to give you a tired smile. After he’s gone, you drag yourself to Chan’s bedroom, and once he sees the state you’re in, he offers up one side of his bed. Neither of you say anything, but the friendly reassurance of his hand in yours says enough.

You don’t fail to notice that everything seems to be washed out, a blandness you’re not used to.

The last time you see him is at the airport.

It’s a cold day, despite being sunny. The airport offers little warmth, but you figure it doesn’t matter. You won’t be here for long. 

It doesn’t take you very long to find Minghao - you still look for him wherever you go, even if you’re not looking for him. Even then, it’s still so easy for you to find him, to pinpoint that vibrancy, that youth. He’s talking to a few others, you think you met them. Soonyoung and Jun.

Minghao meets your eyes and you freeze, but then he waves you over with a gentle smile. You follow like you think you always will. 

You greet Soonyoung and Jun and the four of you talk, albeit a little awkwardly, even when Soonyoung tries his hardest to lighten the mood. Eventually he has to leave, and Jun follows with a shy goodbye. They both hug Minghao before they go.

You’re not sure what to say, but after a minute, you find words. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you,” you tell him, a little selfishly. 

Minghao says, “you’ll do good. I know you will. I’m not worried about you.”

He pulls his phone out of his pocket to check the time, and you think he’ll give you a stiff and sad goodbye, but he steps a little closer to you. Looks at you the way he used to.

“Maybe…” he starts, then pauses. “Maybe we’ll meet again.”

Maybe, you think. Maybe.

“I hope so,” you tell him, then watch as he leaves.

#caratwritersclub #kdiner #kpopscape #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt imagine #seventeen imagine #the8 x reader #the8 imagine #svt the8 x reader #seventeen the8 x reader #svt the8 imagine #xu minghao x reader #xu minghao imagine #svt minghao x reader #seventeen minghao x reader #minghao x reader #minghao imagine #pieces of you

[smoochkooks]

—lost stars, part 2 (m.)

⟶ pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

⟶ genre: smut, angst, bits of fluff, (troubled) idol au, childhood friends to lovers

⟶ word count: 20k

⟶ summary: in dead hours of the night he stumbles upon the bars, reaching, searching, trying to feel something, for once forget about consequences and taste the bittersweet freedom. between sips of addiction and faint touches of nameless lovers he finds you again: his own long-lost star on a blackboard sky.

⟶ warnings: explicit sexual content, soft dom!jk but also bit possessive!jk, sub!reader, oral (f receiving), praise kink, jk calling oc his pretty girl, unprotected sex (stay safe kiddos!), creampie, implicit car sex, mentions of infidelity, smoking, both oc and jk are emotional mess sometimes.

✔ read part one here!

a/n: i’m sorry i keep you waiting for so long but it’s finally here. as i promised, by the end of october. this story has a really special place in my heart, i’ve had it in my drafts for over a year now. i hope you’ll enjoy it!

Twenty-two. No, twenty-three. Or maybe it was actually twenty-two? Jungkook starts counting again.  

Various, different certificates are aligned on the wall in front of him, every single one dedicated to the same man, sitting across the table with crossed arms and stern expression. It’s rather obvious his ego reaches far beyond the printed sheets of paper with his name written in swirly fonts. They are here just to make an impression, to fool people into believing that the pastel blue shirt he’s wearing and expensive watch on his wrist are the outcome of his hard work.  

He opens his mouth to say something, but it doesn’t reach Jungkook’s ears. He starts counting again; this time the number of letters on the first certificate.

“What do you suggest we should do then?”

The man whose achievements in marketing and public relations Jungkook currently attentively analyzes, is Lee Ilsug, or at least that’s what those diplomas indicate. To be honest, Jungkook couldn’t care less about his name or the list of accomplishments that made him be employed here.

He’s new in the company, that’s certain. Jungkook didn’t have to deal with him before but Yoongi had the unpleasantness though, when he needed to deny the rumours going all around the Twitter about his slightly too close friendship with a female singer he had collaborated with.  

Quoting Yoongi, Ilsung was pain in the ass. 

“The photo is blurry. It’s debatable whether it’s Jungkook-ssi or not.” Another voice, this time female, cuts in. Jungkook remembers her face fleetingly from some PR meeting he had attended before. It looks like she’s now Ilsung’s assistant. “I checked SNS. Fans are on Jungkook’s side, they don’t believe what that girl had written, which is a good situation for us to interfere and release a statement.”

“What do you think, Jungkook?”

It’s Sejin. He was the one who contacted Jungkook about the ruckus in the company that has been going on since morning. The case is simple: on the day he did his walk of shame out of your apartment, he stopped to light up a cigarette that happened to be another one of his cardinal mistakes he’s made in span of 24 hours. What started with getting the temptation and alcohol got better of him and sleeping with you, ended with someone taking a picture of him while smoking.

It’s truly a miracle the photo’s quality is moderately vague. His mom always tells him he was born under the lucky star but for Jungkook it’s more like fate was playing hide and seek with him. This time, he managed to blend into the shadows in time.

Ilsung clicks his tongue. It’s not a secret he hates his job yet cherishes the money he earns. He pushes his thick-rimmed glasses up his nose and leans over the table. He’s close enough for Jungkook to notice the fresh cut from shaving on his cheek and a small, golden cross hanging on his neck. 

He raises his brow, eyes trained on Jungkook. Cold, emotionless. Clearly, his ambitions don’t end on dealing with some idol’s reckless shenanigans. “Well? What’s on your mind, Jungkook-ssi? We are ready to release the statement denying rumours about the incident in an hour.”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek. “But that will be a lie then. I did smoke, it’s me on that picture.”

Next to him, he hears Sejin clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Jungkook, I know it’s unfair but we can’t let it affect yours or boys’ reputations right now. We are a month before the comeback.” he says and no matter how much he tries to make it sound neutral, pulling the ‘what about the rest of the members?’ card is usually the last straw to bend Jungkook.

Jungkook releases a long sigh at that. He feels unworthy. He let down his brothers again, made them worry about him countless times before and that’s what he offeres in return: disappointment. He cannot risk his bandmates’ good name because of his incautious behavior. They sacrificed too much to be where they are now to lose it over a silly scandal.  

“Do what’s best for the team.” he decides after a while.

Once he’s out of the office, his thoughts drift instinctively to you. Do you already know about the mess he created? Do you even search through social media, looking for the updates about him? No, you wouldn’t go there, he tells himself. He’s almost sure. He hopes those revelations won’t ever reach you.

Sejin breaks his chain of thoughts, stepping into the elevator after him. “What were you even doing in that part of the city so early?” he asks, staring at Jungkook’s reflection in the mirror.

“Does it really matter?”

Sejin’s features soften a little. He’s been with them practically since the beginning. Seen their best and worst, always by their side even when the whole world seemed to be against them. Piggybacking Jungkook out of the practice room because he complained about his feet being sore, joking behind the stage about trivial things when no cameras where around. They trusted him. And he’s never stopped believing in them.

“I told you that million times before. You are allowed to lead your life the way you want, Jungkook. I know how you feel, but as a public figure you have to be extremely careful, first and foremost. People don’t forget, nothing ever disappears from the Internet,” he says, or rather repeats the same mantra he’s been telling them since they broke into the mainstream and started being overly recognizable. “I am here to protect you but I won’t be able to do that if you don’t take care of yourself first.”

He places a strong hold on Jungkook’s shoulder and squeezes reassuringly. Jungkook releases a sigh and the door slides open behind them. “Thank you, hyung.”

“Always, Jungkook-ah. I’m feeling like a father of rebel teenager now.” Sejin laughs lightly to clear the heavy atmosphere, making Jungkook snort.  

“Hey, I’m twenty-two!”

Sejin ruffles Jungkook’s hair, ignoring younger’s grumbling protests. The walk into the spacious parking lot of the company and Jungkook suddenly stops in his tracks.  

“Does Bang already know about this?“ he asks matter-of-factly, although he’s sure what the answer will be. The confirmation he needs comes with a nod from Sejin. “Is he pissed?” he adds then.

Sejin raises his brows, looking down at him. “His golden boy let him down, what do you think? He might not be mad but he’s sure as hell disappointed.” He gestures to his car and Jungkook follows him without a word, imagining his boss’ sour expression next time he sees him. In Bang’s self-made ranking he’s sitting at last place right now probably.  

“Want to grab a proper breakfast with me? I’ve been called into the company while I was in bed. I didn’t even have time to finish my coffee.” Sejin offers, pulling Jungkook out of his thoughts.

“Okay.” Jungkook says, hopping in Sejin’s car. “You’re buying?” he asks, mustering a snickering smile even though he’s definitely not in the mood for joking.

Sejin rolls his eyes, fastening his seatbelt. “Don’t you think you own it to me for saving your ass once again?”

“But I’m your rebel teenager kid, remember?” Jungkook pouts. When he sees Sejin hesitating, he opts for another strategy. The one that never fails. “Rock-paper-scissors?”

“Deal.” 

Tonight, Jungkook pulls up in front of the club you’re working in with his car. It’s Friday night and he recalls you saying you work here every two weeks. He counted the days three times. There’s no way he made a mistake. He’s sober. And he has no intentions of getting drunk.  

You’re surprised when you see him. You haven’t spoken a word for a whole week since he walked out of your apartment. He seems happier when he approaches you, flashing a bunny-toothed smile like nothing ever happened. Maybe he’s good at pretending. That’s exactly what you told him to do - act like the night he stripped you bare and fucked you silly was merely a mirage.

In a way, you’re relieved he makes everything seem ordinary, even though it’s anything but normal.

He waits for you to finish your shift. Tells you he drove here with his car and your eyes involuntarily widen. When you’re standing in front of his black Mercedes Benz, you can’t help but gawk.  

“I don’t even want to know how much money this cost.” You take in the all-polished, black glory of his car, muttering “Holy shit” under your breath.

Jungkook chuckles to himself, gesturing for you to get in. You do it without a word, making yourself comfortable on the leather seat. If he manages not to make things awkward, you can do it to, acting as though he isn’t a well-known persona in your country with an addiction for unhealthy lifestyle.

He starts the engine and drives in the direction of your neighborhood, humming to himself the tune playing in radio. It’s awfully domestic, the way he navigates through the streets like he knows them like the back of his hand although you’re aware he’s glancing at his phone once in a while to check the directions. You catch yourself watching him from the corner of your eye with curiosity, biting your lip to suppress the urge to ask him million questions at a minute. Instead, you let him do whatever he has in mind. You can’t ruin this, you remind yourself.

Later that night, you’re sitting in his car in the darkness, parked on the rundown parking lot where no one’s standing expect for you. The only source of light is coming from the single street lamp nearby, illuminating delicately Jungkook’s features in dim, yellowish lighting.  

He doesn’t say much. He fumbles with the hem of his jacket almost absentmindedly and you know him well enough to sense there’s something plugging his thoughts. You call his name and he turns his head to the side. It’s too dark for you to spot the tiredness on his beautiful face, too dark to read from his eyes and find all the needed answers in them.

“Is everything alright?” you ask and it sounds awfully loud in a small space of his car. Despite the silent promise you made to yourself about keeping things between you civil, you can’t help but interfere.

Jungkook then whirls on his seat so he can face you fully, flashing you a smile meant to throw all your former worries away. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to sit with you for a while like that, if you don’t mind.”  

If anything, it doesn’t cure your concerns but you shove it to the back of your head for now. Nodding at his words, you fall into the distressing silence. The street lamp nearby goes out and if it wasn’t for the digital dashboard in Jungkook’s car, you would have been surrounded by darkness completely.  

Jungkook chuckles under his breath and you follow suit. The sudden change in the atmosphere should be taken as a sign to abandon this damned parking lot and go somewhere else, but he looks like he has other plans in mind. Hearing the soft whisper of your name, you start feeling like it all was meant to happen. Him appearing in front of the club, the lights going out and enabling you to read the true emotions from your faces – it’s all like fate is again playing tricks with you.  

You don’t know who moves first, crossing the invisible oceans between you and reaching homeland, but the next thing you feel is his lips on yours.

He tastes like the non-alcoholic beverage he drunk earlier, mixed with faint bitterness of his beloved cigarettes and something akin to mint, yet you’re drowning in it, in him, in the warmth of his breath on your wet lips.

You feel the world spiraling in front of your eyes, despite your soberity. You’re moving automatically; leaning into his touch and accepting the kiss with raw passion, welcoming his tongue in your mouth willingly. It should be alarming how good it feels to have him like this, in your arms, teeth scrapping your neck until you’re writhing in your seat. Breathless, he takes the hint, maneuvering your body until you’re straddling his lap.  

It feels dangerously familiar. You know what’s going to happen next, when he unzips your jacket and places his hands underneath your sweater, relishing in the way you shiver at the coldness of his touch. When he sinks his teeth in your neck and withdraws seconds before leaving a blossoming mark. Yet you make no vow to stop him.  

From this exact moment, it’s just a blur of hushed whispers, broken moans and quick caresses that leave you yearning for more. Jungkook acts like he knows your body inside and out, thrusting his fingers knuckle-deep into your heat until you’re keening and begging him for more. And he gives it to you with earnest, coaxing you into an orgasm with one last, final flick of his thumb on your sensitive bud.

Jungkook groans when you palm his bulge through the material of his pants, but he’s too desperate to feel your wetness around him to let you tease him any longer. When you sink down onto him, all of your rational thoughts fly away with the breathy moan you let out in unison with his choked gasp.

It’s fast and ragged, chasing the high that it’s both forbidden yet so craved. And it hurts, when tears well in your eyes, when you’re at the brick of pleasure and you know there’s no way in the world you’re going to experience a desire so raw and overwhelming with anyone, ever again. It hurts when Jungkook picks up the pace and fucks into you with ferocity and anger, because the world is unfair and he’s a slave in the system in which freedom means fucking you dirty in his car when it’s dark out.

And he hates it, hates it so much when you unveil in front of him, whimpering his name hoarsely and tightening around his cock deliciously. He swallows every sound you make with his mouth, clenching his teeth because the pleasure is right there, but he needs an extra push to throw himself over the edge. It’s his name on your lips and the whimper of “Inside, please” that finally makes him snap.

Then, there’s only guilt and laboured breaths. In his self-made list of mistakes, you’re aiming for the top.

Grocery shopping has never been your favourite thing to do.

You would never quite enjoy doing it, not due to the constant anxiety of forgetting about buying something even if you make a list of products beforehand, not when you don’t have enough money to buy a little extra than needed (thanks to the dear capitalistic world we live in).  

Right now, you’re standing in the middle of an aisle with cereal, trying to look as much casual as possible so people passing by wouldn’t suspect you to be a wanna-be thief. The cause of your distress sits at the very top shelf and there’s no way in hell you’ll manage to snatch that Reese’s Puffs without knocking everything over.  

Defeated, you raise your hand to take your second option (good, old Corn Flakes), but a familiar voice coming from the right stops you in tracks.

“Need some help?”  

Twirling on your feet, you’re now standing face to face with Kihyun – Minho’s friend from work. Smiling sheepishly, you nod. “I do, actually. Can you pass me these ones, please?”  

You feel stupid asking that but fortunately, Kihyun doesn’t seem to mind your awkwardness. You talked to him briefly a few times before thanks to Minho, who took his friendship with him as far as to go on a double date together.  

“So, how are you?” Kihyun asks, placing the cereal box in your cart.

“I’m good, thanks. I assume you’ve been also doing well,” He raises his eyebrows at that and you clarify, “Minho told me you got promoted lately. Congrats, chief Yoo.”

“Ah, yeah, thank you,” There’s a tiny bit of pink covering the apples of his cheeks when he waves his hand dismissively at your comment. “But it’s not that big of a deal.”

“I’m sure working in a homicide department is a big deal,” you say. “And I heard it requires some extra shooting training as well.” you add, alluding to what Minho has told you the day you read the message on his phone from someone named Soyeon.

To your surprise, Kihyun furrows his brows in a manner that could only mean he’s confused. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”  

Hiding your astonishment with a light laugh, you explain, “Don’t you go to the shooting range with Minho after work? He told me so a while ago.”  

Something akin to realization crosses Kihyun’s face. He shakes his head. “Yeah, we went there together once or twice but recently he’s training there our new recruit, Soyeon.”  

His words punch you right in the guts. Minho lied to you. He wouldn’t come up with that shitty excuse if he didn’t have something dirtier to hide, right? Maybe you’re exaggerating, but he certainly hasn’t been truly honest with you for a while now. It must be a reason behind his strange behavior.

“Are you okay?”  

For a moment you’ve forgotten you’re in the middle of the grocery store with your boyfriend’s friend. Shaking yourself off your unpleasant thoughts, you send Kihyun an apologetic smile.  

“I’m sorry. I just remembered I need to go to the pharmacist’s and they’re closing soon so I gotta hurry now.” you lie. He doesn’t look like he entirely bought your story but nevertheless, he bids you goodbye.  

You leave the store with half-empty shopping bag, raging headache and a torn heart.

They say silence can speak more than any exchanged words.  

It hovers in the air, heavy and overwhelming, a tension primed to snap at any moment yet it has never happened before. There’s always quiet, no hushed sentences, half-lies or stuttered confessions leaving quivering lips.  

Sometimes you wonder when will you have enough. When will you be able to resist, to say you’re hurting so bad it aches right in your heart, like there are tons of bricks lying on your chest, suppressing your breathing. And maybe this is the night.  

A few unread messages on your phone, next one popping up and the screen lights up. 

[1:23pm] jungkook:

i need you  

It pains, a dull ache and suddenly there isn’t enough air in the room.   [1:24pm] jungkook:

please  

He never begs. It doesn’t suit him. There is too much pride and power inside him to crawl in front of you, to fall to his knees and plead. Yet, you falter, shaking fingertips typing a quick response. When brain screams fuck you, you don’t deserve me, a sight of him makes all the rational thoughts go to hell.  

He stands in your door, slender body leaning against the frame. You haven’t seen him for a while, a week or maybe two. His skin is pale, sheer and delicate you worry it might break if you trail your fingers over it. There are bangs under his bloodshot eyes and you know he had trouble sleeping again. It hurts seeing him like this, beautiful and broken but you’ve always loved picking up the damaged pieces.

He smiles, a lopsided smirk you know oh so well, a dark amusement because here you are, pliant under his gaze, vulnerable under his every command.  

“Hello, doll.”  

It’s the ‘doll’ that makes you grimace. Nickname he uses only when you’re stripped bare for his liking, bend to his will. It means he’s been drinking. Probably the expensive whiskey you hate the taste of so much when it lingers bitterly on your tongue after each swipe of his mouth against yours. “Will you let me in?” he then asks although he already knows the answer.

It’s cruel of him how he uses your weakness. You hate seeing him like this, hate when he’s thrown apart and you’re the only one who knows how to fix him. That’s why you move away from the door in a silent invitation, biting your lip when you see his slouching posture and unsteady walk.  

It hurts when you help him sit on your bed and he smiles at you lazily, in all his beautiful yet broken glory. You almost don’t recognize him. It’s not your Jungkook. Your Jungkook would never drown his misery in alcohol, he would never sit in your room barely conscious, smelling of cheap bars and cigarettes.  

But you accept your fate the way it is.  

“I need to sober you up a little. I’ll go get you a glass of water, okay?” He hums in response, although you’re worried it might have not reach his ears at all.  

Jungkook looks up when your back, accepting the water and drinking it with eagerness. “You’re too good to me, you know that right?” he slurs a little once he’s done. “I don’t deserve you.” he adds after a moment, cupping your cheek with his unoccupied palm.  

You squeeze your eyes shut because you fear you might break down in front of him if you look him in the eyes. He strokes your skin, murming “I’m so sorry” all over again.  

You stay like that for a few beats of silence, breathing in each other’s presences until you hear Jungkook’s phone buzzing in the pocket of his jacket. Taking it out, you see ‘Jimin-hyung’ written on the screen. “Your friends are worried about you.” you murmur, nudging his side.

“Tell them to go to hell.” You hear him muttering under his breath. Sighing, you decide to exit the room and answer the call.  

“Jungkook? Where the fuck are you?!” Jimin’s angered, thick with Busan dialect voice rings in your ears, making you flinch. “You should’ve at least answer my text once so I would know you’re okay!”  

Mustering the courage, you take a deep breath and say, “Hi, it’s Y/N speaking. Jungkook’s friend.”  

There’s a pause on the other side, until your hear Jimin clearing his throat. “Oh, hi. Is Jungkook maybe with you?” he asks and you smile to yourself involuntarily noticing how his voice has changed once he realised he’s not speaking to his friend.  

“He is. Drunk, but in one piece.” you reply, sparing a glance at aforementioned Jungkook who’s now slumped down on your bed, probably fast asleep.

Jimin sighs with relief. “That’s good then. You know, we got into a little fight today and he suddenly disappeared without a trace, and we are right before the comeback so–”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything to me,” you interrupt his rushed rambling. “I’ll take care of him.”  

“Thank you, Y/N-ssi. It means a lot.”  

‘’I’ve been taking care of his ass practically since we were kids, so it’s not a big deal for me,” you chuckle lightly, even though you’re definetely not in the mood for jokes. “Well, maybe not in that way but still.”  

“I know. He told me about you.”  

Your eyes widen. “He did?” you ask, failing to hide the surprised tone of your voice.  

“Yeah, he did. When he first told us he met his childhood friend accidentally in the club he got drunk in, we didn’t believe him at first. But then he slowly started opening up more about you and even showed me some picture of you and him when you were kids.” Jimin says. “You know, Jungkook hasn’t been himself for quite a while. He kept pushing us away but ever since he met you, he’s started smiling again. Please, promise me you’ll never hurt him.”  

You release a shaky breath. “I promise.”  

It’s easy to promise such thing. Because you’re for sure going to end up being hurt first.

It’s your alarm that wakes you up the next morning.

The sight of Jungkook is long gone, the only proof he’s been here in your bed last night is an empty glass on your bedside table and a small note written on the napkin.  

Thank you for everything. I really don’t deserve you.  

Jungkook.

Sheets have gone already cold underneath your fingertips where he laid beside you just hours ago. You didn’t get much sleep the night, watching his beautiful, pale features illuminated by the moonlight slipping through your window. He looked so peaceful with his chapped lips slightly parted and in that moment, you couldn’t think of any reason to hate him and what he’s doing to you.

Later, when you’re finally out of uni, you come home and take a quick shower. It’s Wednesday and Wednesdays are reserved for your small dates with Minho. The guilt you’re feeling while getting dressed and fixing your makeup is eating you from the inside. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you almost don’t recognize the shallow of a girl you’re seeing.  

You are not a bad person, you keep reminding yourself, then why did you sleep with him that night? Let him crawl into your bed again and again after?

Minho waits for you outside in his car. He’s taking you to a new Thai restaurant and you manage to hide the frown on your face, because your dear boyfriend forgot you don’t like this type of food.  

“You look pretty tonight, babe,” he says once you’re inside, waiting for your orders. You smile at him briefly. “It’s really been a while since we went out together, hasn’t it?”  

At that, you nod curtly. It’s true, you haven’t seen each other last week at all. Minho ditched your usual Wednesday date in favor of staying at work for something important. It happened second or third time this month. You feel like you don’t have right to be mad at him. If anything, that’s what you deserve for lying to him behind his back.

The rest of the evening goes smoothly. Your food arrives, you act like you don’t feel nauseous chewing on your pad thai and trying to break out the taste with red wine. Minho babbles about the new Netflix series he’s started watching and you’re pretending to be intrested. Wednesday date at its finest.

Then, when you’re about to pour yourself another glass of wine, Minho stops you with his hand on yours. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something,”  You fight an urge to roll your eyes. He wants to discuss serious matters? What a change. “We’ve been together for eight months. My parents keep asking about you.”  

“Oh,” you blurt out. To hide your anxiety, you force out a breathy laugh. “So, what about them?” you ask, however you already know what the answer is going to be.  

“I thought we could visit them soon in Daegu over some weekend when you don’t have work,” he proposes, squeezing your hand as if to calm your nerves. It’s not doing much to put you at ease. “My mom has already started making plans what food she should make. They’re really excited to meet you.”  

You feign a smile. It should be a natural progression for couples to take things at a time, step by step but you can’t help but feel uneasy. Minho wants his parents to meet you, the girl who lets a certain raven-haired boy play with her heart and mess with her head. In a sick game where both parties are out of reach, you’re terribly losing.

“I’d love to meet your parents.” you say finally, almost breathless.  

“You don’t look very excited.” Minho comments with a smirk and you know he’s joking but the lump in your throat only grows.  

You smile meekly. “I’m just nervous, that’s all. What if they won’t like me?”  

“I’m sure they’re gonna love you. You don’t have anything to worry about.” he dismisses your concerns, reaching for the wine bottle to pour himself a glass. “I’ve got one more thing to tell you. I know it’s a lot for one evening but I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it for weeks now so since we have this opportunity now, I’m gonna use it.”  

Color drains from your face. What else is there to converse about all of a sudden? Biting the inside of your cheek, you give him a sign to continue.

“I’ll go straight to the point. I want you to move in with me,” The bomb explodes and you nearly drop your wine glass to the floor. “I know it might be a lot for your but I really, really want to see you every day in my bed. My apartment is big enough for both of us but once I get the promotion my boss talked to me about last week, we can look for something fancier.”  

You stare at him blankly. First his parents, now this? Minho from the beginning of your relationship was the one who liked to take things slowly. He didn’t kiss you until your third date, he waited unnecessary amount of time to have sex even though you told him over and over again you were more than ready to do it with him.

The sudden rush feels weird. As if sensing your discomfort, Minho clears his throat and asks, “Don’t you want to move in with me?”  

You notice the subtle change in his voice, the way he’s not as enthusiastic as he was a minute ago but you shove it to the back of your head. “I’m surprised,” you respond neutraly. “And of course I don’t mind living with you. I just thought you wanted to take things slow.”  

Minho clicks his tongue. “This has nothing to do with that. I’m not asking you to marry me, Y/N,” he chuckles but you don’t mirror the sentiment. “I think it would be more comfortable for you to live with me than your current cubby-hole.”  

He’s already irritated by your reaction and you know it’s better not to poke the bear but those three glasses of wine down your throat give you enough courage to disagree. “Your place is further from my university and work. Not to mention I have a five minutes long walk to the underground now and it would take longer for me to get there in your area.” you point out.

“You can get a driving license then finally.”  

You frown. “What do you mean ‘finally’? You know damn well I can’t afford it now with the job I have and student loan. We talked about it before.”  

Minho is aware that with your current financial situation you’re barely making ends meet and you can’t let yourself have another, bigger expenses. But you’re fine on your own, you don’t mind living where you do because that’s the result of your independence. You showed your parents you are able to study and work without their extra help. You’re proud of yourself for that.

“Now you’re literally making excuses. Just say you don’t want to move in.”  

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you try to reason. “I’m not ready for such a big step yet. I need more time to think about it.”  

Minho snorts, rolling his eyes. “What else is there to think about? Either you say yes or no!” His raised tone catches attention from the family sitting nearby and they send curious glances in your direction.

“Stop being so loud, please. We are in a restaurant for God’s sake.” you whisper-shout.  

“Do I look like I give a fuck?” he snorts, obnoxious and annoyingly snarky.

You stay quiet for a moment, debating whether you should give up entirely and hang a white flag or wait for the atmosphere to clear on its own. But you’re so, so tired. Tired of being lied to. Tired of always having to choose your words carefully and bending to his will.  

“You know, I met Kihyun the other day at grocery store,” Minho doesn’t seem much interested in your inquiry, still deeply frustrated with your tantrum. He simply hums, unfazed. “I congratulated him on his promotion. He for sure needs to visist shooting range more now, doesn’t he?”  

Minho arches his brow. “Yeah, I told you he goes there with me and that new recruit.”  

It’s ironic, how easily he can lie to you straight in the eye. But you’re strong enough now to fight back.  “That’s interesting actually, because Kihyun said something totally different.” you say languidly, watching your boyfriend narrowing his eyes.

“And what is that?”  

“He said you’re going there only with your new recruit, Soyeon. The one sending you messages on your private phone.”  

Minho gapes at you for a few short seconds and then, bursts into laughter. “What are you trying to insinuate here, honey?” he asks.  

The petname sounds mocking this time. Ignoring his lighthearted approach to the situation, you dodge a bullet. “I’m not insinuating anything yet. I just pointed out that you lied to me.”  

“Lied? That’s bullishit. I would never lie to you.”  

“But you did, Minho. The day I asked you who Soyeon was after reading the message on your phone. You said you’re visiting shooting range with her and Kihyun after work sometimes. Turns out it’s just you and her after all. Isn’t that a lie?” you press.  

Minho doesn’t like being backed into the corner. When you confronted him first, he thought he had everything under control. Now, he’s losing it and he isn’t used to being that helpless.

“So what? Maybe I told you that so you wouldn’t freak out and think I’m cheating on you. Because that’s all it is about, right? You think I’m fucking someone behind your back.” he snaps, making you wince.  

“I didn’t say that.” you counter but there’s no use for that. You stepped into the lion’s den.  

He aprubtly stands up from his chair and the cutlery on your table clutters. “You know what? I’m done. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit anymore.” He withdraws his wallet from the pocket of his jacket and throws a few bills onto the table.  

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips. “Your’e leaving? Just like that?”  

“Yeah. Are you going with me or not?”  

You shrug your shoulders. “I guess someone has to finish this bottle. It would be a shame to waste such expensive wine.” you say, mustering a sarcastic smile.

Minho doesn’t utter anything more to you. He nods and exits the restaurant, leaving you sitting by the table alone. Despite the stares, hushed whispers and an urge to run away and hide from the audience, you stay a little longer and drink up that damned bottle of wine until there’s no droplets left inside.  

Once you’re outside, you inhale greedily the fresh air. Your head spins a little and you’re debating whether to take an Uber home or just walk thirty minutes on your own to sober up a little. You choose the latter.  

You don’t know what makes you dial his number. You’ve never done that before. He was the one calling you in the middle of the name and begging without words to tend his wounds. Tables have turned, and here you are.  

You call once, twice. After the fifth attempt you give up, showing your phone into the pocket of your coat. As the first tear rolls down your cheek, you realise he would never be there to pick up your pieces.

Three missed calls from: Jungkook

[11:11pm] jungkook:

I’m so sorry y/n. I couldn’t pick up the phone cause we had late practice  

Please call me back. I’m worried

Two missed calls from: Jungkook

[11:36pm] jungkook:  

At least text me if you’re okay

Please  

[11:39pm] me:

I’m fine

[11:39pm] jungkook:  

Thank God

You sure you don’t wanna talk?

[11:41pm] me:

Maybe next time

[11:41pm] jungkook:

Okay  

Night, miss grumpy  

You’re sitting in your favourite cafeteria, typing furiously on your laptop the last paragraph in your assignment. Your philosophy proffesor has been a bitch lately, telling you to write essays about the most uninteresting stuff she could possibly think of. And here you are, writing about Hegel’s triads, reminding yourself the semester soon will be over and so will be your mandatory philosophy classes.

Taking a moment to sip on a caramel macchiato you ordered, you notice a message popping up on your lockscreen.  

[10:45am] jungkook:  

Do you have time now?  

I need to tell you sth  

It’s been two days since your date with Minho. You’re still mentally flogging yourself for calling Jungkook that night repulsively because of your tipsiness. In that exact moment, he was the only person on your mind you could talk to. Once the fresh air cooled down your emotions, you realised how stupid your idea was. 

With slight resistance (and raced heartbeat), you type a response. 

[10:46am] me:  

I guess  

[10:46am] jungkook:  

Great. I’m gonna call you now

Eyes widening, you stare at your phone. What is so important that he cannot just text you instead? Not even a minute later, you hear buzzing. Exhaling shakily, you answer it.  

“Hi, Miss Grumpy,” Jungkook says and you could tell by the tone of his voice he’s in a good mood. He sounds like the old Jungkook you know well. It’s a pleasant surprise. “What’s up?”  

“You called me to ask how am I doing?”  

Jungkook chuckles and something inside you flutters hearing that. “And what if I did?”  

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “Let’s just say it’s unusual of you. Shouldn’t you be at some dance practice right now?” you ask.

“We just ended a company meeting. And this is exactly the reason why I’m calling you.”  

“Should I be scared?”  

”Not at all. I’m gonna move straight to the point,” he says and your pulse involuntarily quickens. “Are you free next weekend?”  

You bite your lip. There’s a part of you that wants so bad to counter with “What? Do you need a booty call?” but you don’t let your facade break that easily. Instead, you tell the truth. “Yeah, I am.”  

“Would you like to go with me to Busan then?”  

You nearly spill the coffee onto your laptop. “Oh.” You can’t quite hide the surprise in your voice. You would never expect him to propose you such thing, yet here you are.

It’s been a while since you were home. Not like you don’t want to see your parents, it’s actually the opposite. The reason you haven’t been in Busan for months is simple: you don’t have extra cash on the side to afford a two-way train ticket.  

Sensing your bewilderment, Jungkook takes your silence as a sign to explain further his sudden proposition. “Our company gave us few days off to relax before final comeback preparations so I decided I could go home,” It’s what he says and unsure of what to answer with, you only hum in response. “You told me some time ago you haven’t seen your parents since Christmas so I thought you might accompany me.”  

Something squeezes in your chest hearing that. You fail to hide the smile creeping on your features and despite the many obstacles that should be a warning sign for you to say no, you find yourself reminiscing in the idea of spending a weekend at home with Jungkook. Just like old times.  

“Okay. I agree.”  

Upon hearing your response, Jungkook breathes out a sigh of relief to the phone. “I thought you would ditch me.”  

“Excuse me? Who do you think I am? I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to eat my mum’s bulgogi.”  

You can’t ignore how you’re feeling, cheeks flushed and a silly smile stretching on your lips. But there’s still that bugging thought present at the back of your head, reminding you of your illicit affair and every mistake you’ve made so far. Maybe agreeing to a small trip down childhood memory lane is one of them.  

Right now, sitting in a cafeteria and talking on the phone with Jungkook about the details and your mum’s cooking skills, you pretend like you’ve turned back the time and everything else is a mere drawback to deal with later.

“I can’t believe I agreed to do that.”  

That, is a blatant lie. You know damn well why you’re standing on the pavement in front of the building you live in as Jungkook pulls up with his high-priced, straight-from-the-salon black Mercedes. Something ignites in your lower stomach at the mere memory of what you’ve done there inside last time.

When he exits the car, you disregard as best as you can the aloof feeling in your chest, seeing him adjusting his bucket hat further down. This is the life he’s living, you remind yourself. If he wants to minimize the risk of people with preying eyes recognizing him.

Dressed in all black, he comes up to you and lifts his head up. That’s when you see him fully for the first time since he stumbled through your drunk and barely conscious. He smiles widely approaching you, not an ounce of uncertainty in his movements when he wraps his arms around you in a bear hug.  

“What’s that for?” you mumble.

“Just missed you.”  

He smells like the flowery fabric softener you know he likes. It almost lulls you into paying no mind to the thumping of your heart against your ribcage and redness blossoming on your cheeks.  

It almost makes you forget he’s not yours, and you will never be his.  

You’re the first one to withdraw, stepping away. “You’re such a sap.” It’s the first thing that comes to your mind to say after such intimate moment  – twist it into something without depth and meaning you’re so afraid of facing.

He shrugs, still smiling. “I’m just happy we’re going to spend some time together with our families.”  

You know he is. Jungkook has always been a family person. Moving out at a ripe age of fourteen paradoxically strengthened the bond he has with his parents and brother.  

He picks up your bag from the ground and throws it into the trunk next to his. Getting into the car, you mutter, “You know, I tweet ‘eat the rich’ every two days but you are safe from my hatred for high class as long as you drive my ass with this expensive car to Busan.”

Jungkook chuckles, starting the engine. “Thanks for your kindness, love. Good to know I’m pardoned.”  

“Jokes aside, I mean it though. I might want Jeff Bezos to rot in hell but at the same time I think you deserve that money because I know you worked hard to achieve it.” you say, buckling your seatbelt.  

He spares you a quick glance and arches his eyebrow. “I didn’t know you are actually a fellow comrade Y/N, Miss Grumpy.”  

“Oh, boy. Follow me on my private account. You’ll see then how radical I can get.”  

You earn another laugh from him and you find yourself getting more and more comfortable in the situation, sitting in his car and venturing onto a weekend trip to your hometown. The perspective of spending a couple of hours with Jungkook in the same car doesn’t seem to bother you as much as it did the whole week before.

Tapping the unknown rhythm on your thighs, you reach to press what you think might be the radio button. Your aren’t good with modern technology, so you smile triumphantly to yourself, hearing the first tunes blasting from the speakers. 

The slow pop-ballad ends and radio host announces next song as ‘fan favorite’. You look out of the window for a short while just to be brought back to the reality by the sound playing in the background. You know this song more than well.

“No. We are not listening to this.” Jungkook reaches to change the radio station with a speed of light, but you swat his hand away.  

“Jesus christ, stop being so dramatic. I love Blood Sweat and Tears! It’s a masterpiece.” you protest.

“I thought you don’t listen to our songs.”

You gasp, placing a hand on your chest. “Excuse me? I’ve been to your concert twice, dumbass. And I’m saving up money for another.”  

That, is true. You like listening to BTS not because of Jungkook (though he might one of the reasons you fancy them) but it’s their music and message in general. Now, since they’re over their badboy phases and objectifying women in every ‘love song’, you’re fond of them even more.

You start humming Namjoon’s part when Jungkook cuts in. “Okay, then. Who’s your bias?” he asks.  

You don’t miss the way he seems to grip the steering wheel tighter. Of course he would be that petty to ask you this. To entertain yourself a little, you quip, “Take a wild guess.”  

“It has to be Jimin-hyung.” he says right away.

You shake your head. “Boo. Try again.”  

“Namjoon-hyung. You bit your lip when he started rapping his part.”  

“That’s bullshit. Namjoon’s hot but not my type. And you should keep your eyes on the road, buddy.” Placing your fingers on his chin, you turn his head away.

Jungkook sighs. “Who is it then?”  

“Taehyung.”  

Hearing your response, he snorts. “I should’ve known that.”

“And why is that?” you ask, trying to hide your amusement.

“Because he’s the most good looking from us all. He dresses stylishly,” You could tell by the tongue in his cheek you’re irking him right now. Adding to the irony, Taehyung’s part in the song comes blasting from the speakers. “He has a nice, deep voice.” Jungkook adds and before he can name another positive trait of his friend, you chime in.  

“Is somebody jealous?”  

Though you’re clearly making fun of him, he decides to chuckle like he doesn’t give a fuck anyway. “Jealous? Of Tae? Please. I have no reason to be.”  

Smirking to yourself, you find his demeanor too entertaining. “That’s good then. Because I think you’re handsome too. And I love your voice when you sing.” you say, turning your head to the side to observe his reaction.  

No matter how much he tries to hide it, clenching his jaw and giving you an eye roll, there’s no use for that. The blush covering his cheeks gives him anyway. His agony ends with one last beat of the song.  

Hiding a yawn behind your palm, you lean back onto your seat. Last night you didn’t get as much as you’d like to and your four hours long drive to Busan seems like a great opportunity for a compensatory nap.  

Drifting off to sleep, the last thing you remember is Jungkook’s hands on the steering wheel and his soft voice humming the song playing in the radio.

“Hey, sleeping beauty, wake up. We’re almost there.”  

Slowly opening your eyes, you’re met with familiar-looking streets of your hometown, Busan. You jerk abruptly, straightening your posture. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?” you ask, looking to your left at Jungkook.  

He shrugs in response. “You looked like you didn’t want to be waken. And trust me, I know what it feels like to be brought back to reality from a good nap too early.”  

You don’t dwell on that more. Instead, you look out of the window, greedily drinking in the city. You’re now driving through downtown, passing by shining skyscrapers. Both yours and Jungkook’s houses are situated in a more peaceful area of Busan, closer to the sea. That’s why you spent most of your childhood and teenage days there as long as the weather was merciful.  

Spring has always been your favourite time of the year but spring in Busan hits different. You don’t have an occasion to sit by the sea and watch the sky burning in orange and red in Seoul. Here, where you used to grow up, spring is the cherry tree blossoming, your mum planting vegetable seeds in her small garden behind your house, you and Jungkook smoking cigarettes underneath the pier while the sun hides  behind the horizon.

“Did you tell your parents you’re coming?” Jungkook’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.  

“No, I didn’t. I want it to be a surprise for them.”  

“Oh, that’s cute.” he comments curtly and turns right. You’re approximately thirty minutes until you reach your destination. “I need to talk with you about one more thing before we get there.”  

You focus your sight on him, however he seems to avoid your eyes. You give him a sign to continue. “Go on.”

Jungkook rubs his forehead with his hand and then sighs. It’s a nervous habit of his, you recognize. “I just want to apologize for causing you so much trouble. Not only last time but in general,” He stops at the red light and cocks his head to the side to look at you. “I acted like a complete dick and you don’t deserve to be treated like that. I’m sorry for everything. I thought this small trip here would be some sort of redemption for me, I don’t know.” The lights turns to orange, then to green and he focuses his eyes on the road again.

Reaching over the gearshift, you place a hand on his thigh to get his attention. When he peeks at you with the same, round, sparkly eyes you’ve grown to adore, all you can do is smile softly. “I’m okay, Kook. If that’s what you need, I don’t mind helping you. If only it means you’ll be okay too.”  

Perhaps he notices the sadness in your eyes when you say it. Perhaps he can tell your smile is not the happiest he’s ever seen. If he does, he chooses to stay silent. Instead, he nods. Taking his action as a sight to withdraw, you straighten on your seat.  

“There’s one more anything, actually,” Jungkook adds after a while.  

“What is it?”  

“You’re invited to a party.”  

“What party?” you ask, brows furrowed.

‘’We are celebrating Junghyun’s engagement.” he says casually.

Eyes widening, you let out a shocked gasp. “What?! Your brother got engaged?” 

Jungkook sends you a look. “Jealous, buttercup?”  

You roll your eyes. “I told you I had a crush on your brother when I was ten. It’s been twelve years since then. Twelve!” you exclaim, but he only smirks in response.  

The reason you liked Junghyun as a kid was simple: he was your best friend’s older brother. He was just there yet unreachable at the same time.  

(And he didn’t have as many pimples as Jungkook.)

But Junghyun getting married? That is a news to you. You clearly remember him telling you one day he would never form a serious relationship before he reaches thirty. Looks like he made up his mind.

“I’m just pleasantly surprised he decided to settle down. Junghyun has always been more of a free soul when it comes to dating. I even remember your mum throwing him a tantrum during barbecue because of this.” you say.

“Honestly, I’m not that shocked. You should’ve seen him looking at Hyerin during our Christmas dinner. This boy is whipped.” Jungkook chuckles.  

“Your parents must be happy.” you comment absentmindedly.

He nods, the corners of his mouth stretching in a small smile. “Yeah, they are. They really like Hyerin. And considering they won’t be getting grandchildren anytime soon thanks to my line of work–” he trails off, “–they are even happier that hyung is settling down.”  

The air seems heavy now inside Jungkook’s car. He said an obvious thing you were aware of but something aches in your chest at the thought.

You will never understand why there’s so much stigmatization surrounding idols dating other people. Wanting to be loved by someone is a natural, human need. Prohibition won’t magically stop them from catching feelings.  

But there’s also another side of the story – the one Jungkook referred to. In his line of work even if there are no obstacles, it’s hard to maintain a long-lasting relationship. And he knows that.  

You still remember vividly his first girlfriend. Her name was Eunbi and she was one of their manager’s daughter. Her dad used to take her to the MV sets, introduced her to the boys because she was a fan of them. And that’s how she met Jungkook.  

Jungkook, age seventeen, was too shy to hold a proper conversation and keep eye contact with a girl at the same time but somehow, him and Eunbi got along pretty quickly. They shared a sympathy for the same video games and for Jungkook back then it was enough to fall head over heels for her. She was his first kiss as he told you (”First real one, because I don’t count that peck Jisoo gave me in fifth grade as a kiss.”)  

After that moment you decided you’d never like Eunbi. Not because you were furiously in love with him, no.

You just didn’t want to see him form such a close bond with anyone else but you.

Their fairytale love story ended when Eunbi’s father found out about their secret randez-vous. Jungkook sulked for a week and then eventually got over Eunbi.  

(And he was again texting you about that video game you had no interest in but you pretended to be a good substitute for Eunbi and her nerdiness you lacked.)

“What are you thinking about?”  

You’re standing on the red light again. Glancing at Jungkook, you find him staring right back at you. “I’m wondering whether I’m invited to the wedding.” you lie.

“Of course you are. I’m sure hyung is going to do it officially tomorrow,” he answers with a grin. “I think Taehyung is coming too. He loves weddings.”  

Narrowing your eyes, you reply with a saccharine sweet voice, “It’s about time you introduce me to your bandmates. Especially Taehyung-oppa.”

“Oppa?”

You bite your lip. There’s no doubt you did that on purpose. You find it rather amusing to see Jungkook so worked up over such a silly thing. You wonder how far you can go before he finally snaps.  

Smirking to yourself, shrug your shoulders. “The light’s green. Watch the road, Kookie.”  

Jungkook huffs, shaking his head. It’s approximately fifteen minutes until you reach your destination. “I’m sure you will be delighted to meet him.” he says with enough amount of sarcasm for you to know he’s irritated.

“Oh, I will be over the moon.”  

“Good.”  

“Amazing, even.”

You hope he doesn’t notice you failing to maintain a serious expression.

You moved with your parents to your new house in Busan at the age of eight, two ponytails, overalls and sparkly sneakers every kid wanted to have adoring your small frame, a look of pure concern worrying your childish, chubby features. 

It was a quiet neighborhood, on the suburbs of the town, a row of similarly looking terraced buildings and small gardens in front of them, every single one akin to the other. There was nothing distinctive about the area, it screamed dullness and tedium but for years you have grown to call this place home.

You know every corner here inside out. A local grocery store owned by a lovable, elder woman known as Miss Kim, who always has spare candies underneath the counter for children who come to buy something for their parents. Next to the store, there is a florist’s. Your first, high school part-time job. The intense smell of roses makes you nauseous to these days.

There is also your primary school, huge backyard behind it with a run-down playground. You never minded it though, spending there probably too much time for your parents liking. Many memories were made there. First, innocent childish peck placed on your cheek from a 6th grader named Jinyoung. Twisted ankle, tears, pain and regret because you decided to jump off the highest step of the climbing frame one Friday afternoon after classes. A punch to the face of school’s bully Dongin, who called your new pair of Converse trainers ugly.

It was exactly fourteen days before the end of August when you met Jungkook.

You had been living in the new house for almost a month but still felt too insecure to explore the neighborhood. Most of your time you were spending inside, missing your old friends and reading books to distract your attention from the approaching start of the second semester in school.  

It was probably one of the last scorching-hot days of the year and you were sitting in your garden alone, family’s cat named Leo purring on your lap, when all of a sudden a ball bounced on the grass right in front of you, landing perfectly at your feet and almost scarring Leo to death.  

And then, you looked up and saw him.

A pair of big, black doe-like eyes hidden behind a fringe of onyx hair staring at you through the fence curiously. The boy was not much older than you, probably around your age. He was wearing a striped football t-shirt with some popular team name.  

You fidgeted slightly on the pavement where you were sitting, glancing at the boy shyly like you didn’t know why he was looking at you so intensely. You noticed a small scar on his left cheek, his knees were bruised, splashed with dirt just like his sneakers.  

“Can you give me my ball?” he asked suddenly, startling you.  

Your eyes widened. Of course he would talk to you, you scolded yourself, he wants his ball back.

When you didn’t answer immediately, he continued, “I kicked my ball here by an accident. Can you give it to me?” He pointed at the object lying at your feet.  

You nodded and picked up the ball from the ground. You threw it over the fence, so it landed directly on the other side.

“Thanks.” the black-haired boy said. “I’m Jungkook, by the way. What’s your name?”  

“___.” you responded and the boy, Jungkook, grinned at you friendly, showing his bunny-like smile. He looked cute.  

“Bye, ___! See you tomorrow!” he beamed and headed back to his house.

Tomorrow. He wanted to meet up with you and what? Play football? You were petrified, as the eight-years-old girl should be after hearing such thing from a boy.

And just like he promised, Jungkook visited you the next day. He took you to that playground behind your new primary school. You came home with bruised legs and splotches of dirt on your skirt, to your mother’s dismay.

You also came home with a content grin plastered on your face and a new friend.

Unexpectedly, Jungkook appeared to be a pleasant company and you found yourself enjoying his boyish bickering while fulfilling the rest of the summer break doing things your old friends would consider inappropriate for a girl.

You never thought you could be friends with someone like Jungkook. He was a boy, for God’s sake, and your eight-years-old-barbie-phase-self absolutely despised boys. But months passed quickly and you both found yourselves stuck to each other sides. Something in your relationship simply clicked.

The neighborhood you grew up in isn’t a suburban area but it definitely seems more peaceful than busy streets of downtown. You pass by local church, miss Kim’s store and the big, luxurious house owned my Gwon family you dreamt of living in when you were a kid.  

And then, approximately two hundred meters further, there is your house.  

“Here we are.” Jungkook says, pulling up at his parent’s driveway. They left the gate open, anticipating their son’s arrival.  

Jungkook hands you your belongings, offering you sheepish smile. “I thought that once you unpack and eat dinner, we could go to the beach together,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “Of course, only if you want to.”  

You don’t give his proposition a second thought. “I’d love to.”  

He grins in response and you take it as a sign to leave and finally meet your parents. From the distance you see your mother in the garden, dressed in her usual clothing – black and red checked shirt and cropped denim pants she wears while gardening.

She doesn’t notice you yet, too busy pulling weeds from her precious tulips. You know her better not to creep behind her like that, so you take a deep breath and shout, “Eomma! It’s me!”  

She stands up and twirls around to face you. Her eyes visibly widen, like she actually thought her mind is playing tricks on her and she might have misheard you.  

“Good Lord, Y/N, sweetie, is that really you?” She throws away her gloves and jogs up to you, enveloping you immadietly in a bear hug. “I missed you so much. Why didn’t you say anything you’re coming?”  

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” you mumble. “Jungkook took me with him.”  

At that, your mother pulls away. She arches her brows. “Jungkookie is home as well?” she asks, earning a nod from you in response. “You’re talking with him again?” Her voice is laced with apparent bewilderment but that’s exactly what you expected her reaction to be like.  

Your mother is aware you and Jungkook haven’t been keeping in touch for three long years. She was basically your only source of information about him (besides Twitter) thanks to her close friendship with his parents.  

“That’s quite a long story. I will tell you everything later.” you say. Well, maybe not entirely everything. You’re for sure going to miss out the parts you’re not proud of.  

Your mother doesn’t press you more about it. Instead, she puts her arm around your shoulders and pulls you to her side. “It’s your lucky day sweetie, because we have your favorite bulgogi for dinner. Honey, come here quick!” she shouts and you chuckle, hearing your father responding with: “What is it again?”.

The door to your house creak open, revealing your flustered dad. His expression morphs into a genuine smile when he spots you. “Is it really my daughter or are my eyes deceiving me?” he asks.  

‘’Your eyesight is fine, appa. It’s really me.” You come up and give him a small hug. He was never the affectionate type of parent but once you moved out, he let his facade break a little.  

From where you’re standing now, you have a clear view of Jeons’ house. Here, fourteen years ago, sitting on your porch, you met Jungkook for the first time. You see his window upstairs, alligned perfectly with yours. You wonder if he’s already there, inside, unpacking in his blue-painted childhood room.  

(What if it isn’t painted blue anymore?)

“Come on, let’s go. You’re probably starving.” your mother says, pulling your mind back to the present.  

Walking into your house, all you can think about are his tears-filled eyes when you were bidding him goodbye almost ten years ago in his blue bedroom.

It takes you more or less thirty minutes to reach the bay.  

When you were younger, you used to ride there by bikes practically every single day during summer. You loved sitting on the beach and observing people enjoying their time; swimming in the sea, kids building sand castles and their mums trying to relax among childlike chatter and the smell coming from nearby fishmonger’s store.

It was Jungkook who discovered the spot underneath pier. His curiosity only a twelve-year-old can posses led him there one day after school. At first, you were rather reluctant to go and didn’t mirror his excitement but once he actually showed you it, you changed your mind completely.  

It was a perfect place to hide from the world. You called it a ‘temple’ because it really felt like no one beside you knew about its existence, and that’s what made it sacred to you. When Jungkook moved away you were left to go there by yourself. Without him, it always felt like it was something missing.  

Right now, sitting here feels like you’ve you’ve turned back the time.  

It’s like you’re eighteen again, running away from the whole world, starting your own rebellion with a cigarette caught between your lips and sun disappearing behind the horizon. Listening to the songs Jungkooks had saved on his old iPod and catching up with everything that happened during the last few months when he was absent in your life. 

When you were eighteen you didn’t even know how to smoke properly, blowing out the fume too quickly and stiffing a cough so Jungkook wouldn’t laugh at you. Now it’s a different story.

Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you notice how much he’s changed physically over these five years that have passed. Gone is the baby fat on his cheeks, replaced with sculpted jawline and prominent nose. His hair is longer, falling on his forehead. There’s more piercings on his ears, an expensive watch wrapped around his wrist.  

He looks breathtaking. It never occurred to you before just how beautiful Jungkook really is up close, when there’s no flashing cameras around and make-up covering every imperfection on his face with concealer.

This is your Jungkook. The same one whose competitive nature never let you win any of his computer games, who called you after their debut showcase with quivering voice, who always treated you as his equal even when other boys were making fun of him for being friends with a girl. Your Jungkook, who’s too good for this world to be treated so unfairly.  

“I think Minho is cheating on me.” you blurt out.  

It’s been sitting on your tongue for weeks and now you finally let the words slip. You don’t see his reaction but from the sharp intake of breath you assume it’s not something he’s expected to hear from you.

“Few weeks ago I read a message on his phone from some girl asking when he will be free next time,” you continue before you could stop yourself. “He’s been meeting with her alone behind my back this whole time and I didn’t notice anything until now.” A pair of arms wrap around your frame. Jungkook presses a fleeting kiss to the crown of your head. “I don’t even know if that’s true or I’m overreacting but I just can’t understand how he can lie to me one day and the next propose to move in with him.”  

You don’t realise you’re crying until you feel Jungkook hugging you closer to him. You burry you face into his chest as sob after sob shakes your body. “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispers, stroking your hair. “I’m here.”  

Few minutes pass until you calm down, wiping your tear-stained cheeks with your hand. Jungkook offers you a tissue and you thank him with a small smile. You can only imagine how ridiculous you look right now, with smudges of mascara underneath your eyes and red nose. Not a sight for sore eyes.

“I’m sorry. I just needed to get it off my chest.” you say after a moment.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Y/N. If you need to talk about it, I’m here for you. I’m still your friend, right?” Jungkook asks, meeting your eyes.

You nod, although he’s anything but friend for you. “Right.”  

Because friends don’t console each other with burning touches on bare skin. They don’t give into carnality and submit to pleasure, putting it before everything else.  

From the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook’s jaw clenching. “I’m gonna kick his ass when I meet him.”  

Before you could stop yourself, you mumble, “He should probably kick yours, too.”   

Jungkook visibly stiffens, hearing your words. He avoids your eyes, staring down at his lap instead. You wonder what he’s thinking about now. Does he regret his actions? Do you regret letting it happen? No matter how much you know you did wrong, there’s a part of you longing for more. Because with Jungkook, you felt alive. Minho could never compare.

Reuniting with Jungkook after three years made you realize just how much you needed him back in your life. You actually stopped being mad at him the moment he stood in your room for the first time that night, disheveled and sleepy.  

You could love him. Perhaps you’ve always did. But he cannot give you more. Nothing besides bitter-sweet pleasure between the sheets.  

It’s Jungkook who speaks first.

“I might not be the best man in the world but I would never, ever hurt you like Minho does,” he says and you know he means it. He stares at you intensely. “You do believe me, right?”  

“I do.” you whisper truthfully.

He then leans closer and when you think he might actually kiss you, he places a small peck on your forehead. ‘’Good,” he murmurs, still inches from your lips. “Come on, let’s go. It’s getting late and I can practically hear my mum already complaining she doesn’t have enough time to spend with her son.”  

You nod aabsentmindedly at his words.

There’s a tough conversation for you to have once you’ll be back in Seoul again. Finding out about Minho’s lies was a point of no return for you. It made you realise you’ve been on this path with your relationship for a while now, missing signs or not paying enough attention to the details.  

But what is even more disturbing to you, is that you didn’t let Jungkook warm your bed out of simple frustration or heartache. You did it because you wanted him. And that thought scares you the most.

The first thing Jungkook hears in the morning when he wakes up is the high-pitched chatter and the clutter of pots coming from the kitchen.  

He sighs to himself, staring at his blue ceiling. The clock on his bedside table reads 10am and at this rate, it looks like he won’t be getting any more sleep, not when his mum and soon-to-be sister-in-law are making a fuss downstairs preparing for the party.  

The strong smell of homemade food invades his senses as soon as he enters the kitchen. He spots his mum putting something in the oven, her usual red and white polka-dot apron adoring her form. Hyerin is right next to her, busy cutting some vegetables and listening tentatively to her mother-in-law’s babbling.  

“Good morning.” Jungkook says in a groggy voice followed by a yawn.  

“Morning.” Hyerin quips, flashing him a smile.

Jungkook’s mother barely acknowledges his presence, too busy moving around the kitchen and making sure nothing is burning or overcooking. Feeling the first rumble of his stomach, Jungkook opens the fridge and stares blankly at its contents.  

Miss Jeon runs her house by the rule the more, the better when it comes to preparing food for special family occasions. Hence why there’s so many different type of products lined up in front of him, just begging to become a remedy for his empty stomach.  

“Nu-uh, don’t even think about it!” she chimes in, closing the fridge in front of Jungkook’s face and crushing his dreams about having egg toasts for breakfast. He stares at her with confused expression. “Order yourself something for breakfast, please. We need kitchen to ourselves right now.”  

Knowing better not to argue with his mother, Jungkook sighs in defeat and opens the food delivery app on his phone. He chooses the first option that comes to his mind that won’t take too long to make and slumps down onto the couch.  

“Eomma, where’s dad and hyung?” he asks, debating whether to turn on the TV or not. He decides on leaving it silent.  

“I sent them to the grocery store. They should be back in two hours,” she responds. “Hyerin-ssi, please make sure to keep an eye on the soup. I’ll be right back!” The door to bathroom slams behind her and Jungkook chuckles under his breath.  

“Is she giving you hard time?” he asks Hyerin once he knows his mother cannot hear them.

Hyerin looks up to peek a glance in his direction. “Your mum is a lovely person, really, but she can be… a lot sometimes. Especially when she’s stressed.” she says, smiling coyly.

“Tell me about it.”  

She lets out a laugh that quickly dies down when aforementioned woman emerges from the bathroom. Instead of heading straight to the kitchen, she makes her way to Jungkook. “What are you planning to do after breakfast, Jungkookie?”  

Jungkook shrugs because honestly, he hasn’t given a thought it yet. “I don’t know. Maybe I can help you with something here.” he proposes, although cutting onions and cabbage is the last thing he would like to do.

Fortunately, the grimace on his mother’s face tells her she’s not quite fond of his proposition. “Oh, no, no, no. We’re perfectly fine on our own with Hyerin-ssi. We don’t need extra pair of hands. Why do you think I told Junghyun to go with dad?” she asks rhetorically with raised eyebrows.  

Of course Jungkook knows why. Kitchen is his mother’s kingdom. No one steps a foot there while she prepares food unless she permits it herself. Today she’s even more uncompromising about it because it’s the first time Hyerin parents are meeting Junghyun’s. It’s the matter of making a good impression as the host.  

“Maybe you could call Y/N and ask her what her plans are? I’m sure she won’t be very busy.” Jungkook’s mother prompts and he feels like he’s ten again, bored on Saturday and wondering what to do with himself. Then, an idea pops in his mind.

“Yeah. You’re right,” he agrees. “I’ll call her.”  

Maybe a literal trip down memory lane is everything he needs to feel like himself again.  

As predicted, at first you welcomed his idea with a little bit of qualm, yet you said yes nonetheless.  

And now here you are, hanging out together at the playground behind your old primary school. Getting there wasn’t an easy task, it required some parkour abilities and jumping over the fence because the place is apparently being locked on weekends now. Ten years ago it used to be your life estate on Saturdays.

You’re currently sat on a swing, watching Jungkook doing pull ups. You have a nagging suspicion that he chose to go on with his daily workout routine right now on purpose but you’re not better yourself, doing rather poor job at ignoring the way his hoodie rides upwards with every move he makes, revealing his toned abdomen.

“Okay, I’m done.” he grunts, letting go of the bar. He plops down on the other swing next you with a heavy exhale. “How many was it?” he then asks, referring to the number of pull ups you were supposed to keep a track off.

For a moment you forget you’re supposed to answer, eyes focused on Jungkook’s throat as he chugs down the whole water bottle.

“Hmm?” he repeats and you quickly snap out of your trance.

“I lost count.” Truthfully, you didn’t even make an attempt to do so. You were too distracted by the act itself to pay attention to anything else, let alone do basic math. Now you do understand all these girls going crazy when they get a glimpse of his sculpted body.

Jungkook rolls his eyes in response and starts swinging himself back and forth. It you recall correctly, he lost one of his front baby teeth here, jumping off the swing.

“I thought a lot of would change here after so many years. But it looks exactly like I remembered it.” he says, slowing down to a halt.

You nod at his words. Apart from a little painting and renovations done here and there, it’s like it all got stuck in time. You’re about to add that your mother told you the infamous principal Choi is still consistently running the school, but Jungkook doesn’t let you vocalize it.

“Wait,” He stands up suddenly and walks to the seesaw swing. You furrow your brows as he crouches on the ground and attentively observes the object, presumably searching for something. “A-ha! Here it is! I knew it still would be there.” he exclaims excitedly after a few seconds.

Confused, you come up to him. “What are you doing?”  

“Look,” he says, pointing at the wooden base of the seesaw. At first glance you don’t notice anything but as you get closer, you see what he meant.  

Jinyoung + Y/N = ♡ engraved on the swing.

“Oh my god.” you groan, covering your face in embarrassment.  

Jungkook ignores your whining and actually snaps a picture of his finding. “You know what’s actually funny? It was me who did this because you didn’t have enough strength.” He giggles, making your cheeks heat up in bright shade of red. “I stole my dad’s pocket knife for it. Such a shame your love story lasted only a week.”  

“I’m not listening to you!” you announce and quickly come back to your previous spot on the swing.

Jungkook doesn’t give up easily though, enjoying tormenting you with your pre-teen love life. He follows you, asking, “Wasn’t he your first kiss as well?” You keep your mouth shut, avoiding his eyes. He then clasps his hands. “Yeah, I remember now. Sixth grade. He kissed you here, am I right?”  

You wish you could wipe off that smirk from his face.  

“I never liked Jinyoung,” he continues, sitting down next to you on the second swing. “But I always wanted to have that black range rover his dad drove.”  

Your face heats up even more at the mere mention of Jinyoung and his dad’s car in one sentence. Jungkook can make fun of your silly crush as much he wants, but he doesn’t know one thing.  

That your little infatuation had a sequel.  

Taking a deep breath, you lean closer to him and ask, “Wanna know a secret?” He sends you a curious look and nods. You brace yourself for what is about to come. “I lost my virginity at the back of that range rover.”

Jungkook chokes on air. His eyes widen in pure shock and you have to fight an urge to laugh at how ridiculous he looks right now, gaping at you with mouth wide open. “What the fuck, Y/N?! Tell me you’re joking, please.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “I wish but unfortunately, that’s true. We went to the same high school and somehow… our paths crossed together again.” you explain.

“And you decided to fuck him in his dad’s car?”  

“No, dumbass. We were dating. For whole six months.”  

Jungkook sends you a look. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“It’s not like we were talking back then,” you reply sheepishly, toying with the edge of your sweater. Suddenly it’s hard for you to meet his scrutinizing  stare. “You stopped responding to my messages a little before I started dating him.”  

The atmosphere between you tenses. Jungkook’s expression morphs from astonishment into guilt and you curse yourself for ruining the mood.  

Jinyoung is just a mere memory, one of many mistakes you made during your teen years. He wasn’t anyone special to you anymore, he never had been. Not even when he deflowered you on the backseat of his dad’s car one night after some party. You were too drunk to care and too inexperienced to do more than just lie there and take it. With your skirt hiked up and blouse mid-open, wondering if Jinyoung was just as clueless as you when it came to sex or he simply didn’t know how to pleasure women.

What Jungkook doesn’t have to know, is that you jumped into the relationship with Jinyoung to fill the void your best friend created three years ago with unanswered messages and never returned calls.  You were lonely in high school, you couldn’t manage to form a close bond with anyone after Jungkook. You hoped Jinyoung was good enough for a replacement.

“What about you then?” you ask to clear the atmosphere. “I told you my secret, now you reveal me yours.”  

To loosen up the tension a bit, you decide to play the quid pro quo card. Partially out of curiosity, but mostly because you feel like you’ve exposed yourself too much in a short period of time. It will only be fair if he gives you the same in return.  

Jungkook smiles bashfully. For the person who had done many dirty things to you before, he sure looks shy now. “I was nineteen as well. She was a friend of a friend, four years older than me. We met a party, flirted a little and one thing led to another,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ve never seen here after that. She tried to contact me but I just… I didn’t want to commit to something more.”

Is he ready for more now? you wonder silently. The question stays at the tip of your tongue though. You can’t wish for more when everything he’s able to provide is a few, quick moments of blissful relief between the sheets when sun goes down.  

But what if you want more? What if you’ve always, subconsciously, felt like you belonged together but universe decided to split you apart? What if you’ve always been in love with your best friend?  

The realization hits you like a tsunami. All these years, you spent denying your feelings for him. And when there’s a chance for you act on them, you back away. 

Because even if he’s now inches from you, he seems out of your reach.

By the time you gulp down your third glass of champagne, Jungkook’s brother’s engagement party is in full swing.  

Junghyun and Hyerin didn’t invite many people to celebrate. It’s a small, family gathering. Your parents were invited thanks to the almost twenty-years-long friendship with Jeons, which started when you moved into the new house next to theirs.  

Jungkook looks painfully handsome dressed in black suit pants and emerald green button-up shirt. His raven hair is styled the way you like the most, parted in the middle and revealing his forhead. You, on the other hand, are wearing a simple, long-sleeved navy blue dress you’ve had on multiple occasions before but it’s still your top go-to garment when you have nothing else to put on.

“Have I told you look great tonight, buttercup?”  

Turning around, you’re met with Junghyun’s smiling face. Of course he would approach you with his childhood nickname for you that used to make your heart flutter.

Besides his hair color, there’s little resemblance between him and Jungkook when it comes to appearance. While Jungkook took a lot after their father, Junghyun is almost a cardboard copy of their mum. Even their characters are two polar opposites. Junghyun is the more outgoing, boisterous type but Jungkook still tends to act introverted towards strangers.  

And paradoxically, it’s the younger brother who’s making a career in entertainment industry.

“Shouldn’t you be complementing your fiancée instead?” you ask, accepting another glass of Martini Junghyun hands you.  

“As you can see, she’s busy being interrogated by my mother.”  

From the corner of your eye, you see Hyerin nodding along to whatever miss Jeon is telling her right now, expressively gesturing. It’s her brand to do so. Your father says that she talks with her mouth and hands simultaneously.

“I’m sure Hyerin-ssi went through it already when they were preparing food together earlier today.” you joke.

Junghyun chuckles, having a seat next to you. He sends quick, supportive thumbs-up to to his girlfriend when she glances at him from the spot she occupies on the couch. You can’t help but coo at the sight.

“So,” you quip, “when’s the wedding?”  

“Next year in August,” Junghyun answers. “You’re obviously invited as well.”  

You smirk around the champagne glass. “I wouldn’t miss seeing my childhood crush getting married.”  

Junghyun laughs at that, throwing his head back. After a moment he adds, “It’s funny though, how you were gushing over me when the boy who had heart eyes for you was right under your nose.”  

You arch a brow. “You mean Jungkook? He had a crush on me?”  

“If course he did. You were the only girl who talked to him and moreover, you always helped him with his homework and you know how bad he was at algebra,” Junghyun says, sending you a knowing look. That much is true. Jungkook did suck at Math and could not, for crying out loud, interact with girls. “If he could, he would’ve taken you with him to Seoul all those years ago.”  

Your eyes involuntarily drift to aforementioned boy, standing with his father in the kitchen. They are looking at something your dad is showing them on his phone, probably pictures of the car he recently renovated.  

(A classic Chevrolet Camaro 1969. For all you know it looked like Damon’s car in Vampire Diaries.)

You can see Jungkook’s eyes growing big as he stares down at the screen. Obviously, he’s genuinely amazed with what he sees. You can only hope your dad won’t try persuading him to sell his luxurious Mercedes and buy something vintage instead.

“Why didn’t ever tell me that?” you ask, your voice quivery. You take another gulp of your drink to soothe the emotions bubbling in your chest and you barely succeed.

Junghyun shrugs his shoulders in response. “Would it change anything? You were thirteen-year-old kids back then and he was moving out to another city to make his big dream come true.”  

Pursing your lips, you nod. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”  

You don’t know exactly what Jungkook feels for you right now. Back when you were teenagers, it was just a fleeting attraction. Perhaps he thought about you this way because you were a girl who liked spending time with him.  

“I know him giving up your friendship was a dick move but you have to believe me that this boy has been really lost these past three years. Now he’s trying to find himself again, to become a better version of himself,” Junghyun remarks. “He needs his best friend to help him do so.”  

Turning once again to look at Jungkook, you catch him staring right back at you. He flashes a cheeky grin and completely fails winking at you. You’re lips automatically stretch into a smile seeing his goofiness. You like that side of him. It suits him.

“I think I need to go save my fiancee from my mother.” Junghyun whispers, catching you off guard. He follows your line of sight and smirks to himself. “Go talk to him. I’m sure your dad wouldn’t mind snatching Jungkook for a bit.” Unlike his younger brother, he lands a perfect wink.

Like beckoned, Jungkook approaches you when Junghyun leaves the table. “Aren’t you a little sad he’s getting married, buttercup?” It’s the first thing that night he says to you.  

Fighting an urge to snort, you ask, “Aren’t you tired of being jealous I chose Junghyun-oppa as the object of my affection and not you when we were kids?”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, manifesting his irritation. You relish in it even more now, having the knowledge he used to pin after you. He ignores your witty retort though completely.

“Want to get out of here for a while?”  

Your heart skips a beat. “Where?” you blurt out, looking around the room for any place comfortable for you to stay in for a while.

“Isn’t it obvious?” When you raise your brows in question he adds, “To your house, of course.”  

“But–”

He shooshes you with a finger on his lips. “No buts, Miss Grumpy. It’s been ages since I’ve been in your room. Do you still have that Edward Cullen’s poster above your bed?” he asks and this time, you actually land a punch to his arm.

Downing the rest of your champagne, you get up from the chair. “Shall we?”  

“Ladies first.”  

“I still can’t understand why did you really hang a poster of some pale dude above your bed.”  

You’re climbing up the stairs to your room, and Jungkook is in the middle of his rant about Why Twilight Has Ever Been A Thing. You’re ten seconds from pointing out his teenage female crushes one by one, starting with IU just to rile him up.

“It’s just weird for me,” he huffs upon taking one last step to the top.

You whip your head to send him a glare. “Do you really want me to say the same thing about your fans worshipping your posters?” you ask, eyes narrowed. “You’re out of their reach just like Edward Cullen was out of mine when I was fourteen.”

He points his finger at you. “But he’s a fictional vampire and I’m real.”  

“Exactly!”  

You leave him with that, eyebrows scrunched in confusion, and open the door to your room.

“So you did get rid of him after all.”  

Nothing really much changed in your childhood room since you moved out four years ago. Your walls are still painted in lavender but the posters are long gone, much to Jungkook’s dismay. There is a bookshelf with all your favorite positions (Twilight included) standing directly next to the desk which is now pearl white, just like the rest of your furniture.  

Before you can say anything, Jungkook plops down onto your bed. “You still got them though,” he murmurs and you glance in his direction, waiting for him to elaborate on what he means. He raises his finger to the ceiling. “Those yellow stars that shine when it’s dark. You have the same in your apartment in Seoul.”  

“Oh, yeah,” you awkwardly reply, looking up. “I put them there so I can have something reminding me of home.”  

Truth to be told, you are a sentimental person. The very best evidence of your heart’s weakness is the corkboard with old photos in your apartment. As cheesy as it might sound, it gives you a sense of comfort.

Jungkook hums at that and pats the spot next to him with his hand. “Come lay with me.” he proposes.

“Why?” you ask, although you sit down on the bed anyway.  

“Because I want you to,” he grumbles and places his palm on your stomach, pushing you to lay flat. “There you go.”  

It reminds you of old days, how you used to lay down with him like that on your bed and just do nothing, simply staring at the constellations on your ceiling in silence or speaking about trivial things.  

Life was much easier back then, when there was no cameras flashing around and capturing every move your best friend makes. When you were just two kids with head full of dreams and dragging on forever doing your Chemistry homework. When you were each other’s beginning and end, yin and yang, sun and moon and the starry sky above you.  

It slips off your tongue eventually, what have you been meaning to ask him since the beginning of your illicit affair. And now it seems like you’ve finally reached the point of no return. “What are we, Jungkook?”  

You turn your head to the side, staring at his right profile. His chiseled jawline, black lashes ghosting the skin of your cheeks. He opens his eyes slowly, focusing his sight on you but you quickly look away.

“You know damn well that we aren’t just friends anymore. Maybe we’ve never been,” You sit up straight from your position, finally gaining enough courage to face the matter. “You can’t play with my emotions like that and expect me not to catch any feelings for you. You’re confusing me so much, Jungkook. I don’t think I can go on like that any more.”  

You feel his palm on the small of your back, comforting and bringing you a brief wave of solace. He follows suit, getting up from his position as well. “Look at me,” he murmurs and you jerk your head to the side. You don’t want him to see you like this again - vulnerable and exposed. “Please, ___.”  

It’s his pleading voice that makes you succumb to his request. Hesitantly, you accept his touch on your cheek and meet his doe eyes, two black charcoals shining in the dim lighting of your childhood room. He has the same look in them as you saw the first time he kissed you. If the teeth worrying his bottom lip are anything to go by, you could mistake it for nervousness.  

“I shouldn’t feel that way about you,” Jungkook finally says. “I shouldn’t wake up with an urge to text you because if I didn’t, my day would be incomplete. I shouldn’t picture us doing mundane things like cooking ramen in your apartment or picking you up from work,” he recites, voice laced with an emotion you can’t quite put the name on. Or maybe you do.

It’s longing.  

“I shouldn’t imagine us being together because I can’t give you all of these things, ___.” Lone tear slides down your cheek and he catches it with his thumb. “I’m so, so sorry.”  

You’re shaking your head, because no, he shouldn’t apologize for the world’s unfairness, for wanting to have more of you, of freedom. “Jungkook–” you start but he’s quick to interrupt you.  

“I told you this before and I’m repeating it now: you deserve so much better than what I can give you, ___.”  

He tries to distance himself, to back away and leave because that’s what he’s a master of but you beat him to it, extending your index finger and poking him right in the middle of his chest. “Now you listen to me, Jeon Jungkook,” you urge, not caring about your tear-strained cheeks and shaky voice. “I’m a very stubborn person, and you know that. If I wanted to leave you, I would’ve kicked you out of my apartment the day your drunk ass stormed back into my life.”  

He smiles sheepishly, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “And why didn’t you do that?” he asks, his palm not leaving your cheek.  

“Because more than anything, I’ve never stopped caring about you,” It’s almost a whisper. “No matter how hurt I was, I couldn’t let you slip away from my reach again.”  

And then he’s leaning even closer, lips almost touching yours yet it feels like it’s not enough. It’ll never be. “___,” he murmurs your name softly, breath smelling of champagne hot on your skin. You feel dizzy, drunk on him. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”  

You both know it’s a white lie, that as soon as you’re back in Seoul the reality will brutally kick you in but you let yourself for a moment indulge in this fantasy – that you’re his and he’s yours. You’re on the opposite sides of the spectrum, yet you cannot be separated.  

And you need to hear him say it.

“Promise?”  

Jungkook seals it with a kiss, the one that leaves you breathless and pliant in his arms, blindly reaching for him and pulling him closer with your hands on his neck. “Promise.” he whispers, eyes trained on yours.

For now, it has to be enough.

Then, as if he can’t hold himself back any longer, he dives in for more, hands finding purchase on your hips. He’s tugging you closer until you’re perched on top of his thighs, feeling the hard flesh flexing underneath your weight. It feels familiar; that funny, pulsing sensation building up in your core when he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip to meet yours. It makes you tangle your fingers in his black locks and pull, just to hear him groan into your mouth.

But there’s another pressing matter on your mind and before you can go any further, you’re pulling away from his lips with a light smack. Jungkook doesn’t take the hint though, anchoring your hips over his crotch.

“Wait,” you mumble in between kisses, biting down the moan that almost tears from your throat when he uses the grip on your body to grind down on him. “What about the party? What if parents will come home and–”

“Shhh,” He silents you with a peck on your quivery lips. “They won’t. The party has barely started. And even if they do come home, you’ll just have to be quiet, right?” Something about his tone makes you nibble on your bottom lip to suppress a whimper. He sees it, and leans down to kiss your throat. “Can you do that for me, baby?”  

“Mhm,” you mewl, angling your neck to give him more access. He sucks a mark right above your sternum and it almost distracts you from asking him one more thing. “Jungkook,”  

He licks a stripe up the column of your throat and looks at you, lips shining with saliva. “What is this?”  

Despite the urge to kiss him stupid right here and there, you cup his cheeks and repeat the same question that led you to this very moment. “What are we?”  

Jungkook looks like a living sin with his blown out pupils and disheveled hair yet his gaze is nothing less than affectionate. He brings one of your hands to his lips and places a kiss on your knuckles. “Whatever you want us to be,” he responds, sincere. “You know I never give up without trying.”

You nod, a small smile dancing on your features. “I know.”  

He captures your mouth in another kiss, like he’s trying to prove his statement with actions; sucking, biting, kneading your supple flesh just right. Suddenly there’s too many clothes separating you and your fingers grip his silk shirt in faint attempt to satisfy your yearning to feel him fully.

As if reading your mind, Jungkook stops mid-decorating your neck with yet another red mark. “Get up and take off your dress for me, baby.” he says, all soft but still demanding enough to make your knees wobble. As much as you love the dominant side of him, you’re enjoying this new-found softness of his.  

You comply to his request in an instant, raising from his lap to a standing position. Your fingers travel to your backside and pull the zipper down. Your dress falls on the floor with light thud, leaving you in your underwear. It’s matching but not your best pick nonetheless; simple black lace bra and cotton panties. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, two antsy hands gently pulling you closer to him until you’re in between his thighs.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a feathery kiss on your belly. You let out a shaky sigh, trying to avert your gaze away from his burning stare but he destroys your attempt. “Don’t shy away from me now.” A squeeze to your hip is a warning. You give in, looking down just to see him smirking right back at you.  

“I won’t if you take off your clothes as well.” you challenge despite your trembling voice.

He gets up, towering over your figure. “Undress me then.” Your shaky fingers reach for the buttons, opening one by one. He watches your movements attentively, lets you run your palms over his broad chest. His silky shirt joins your dress on the floor as you fumble with his belt buckle.  

There’s something intimate about this moment. It’s not the first time you’re seeing each other naked yet everything feels new, unchartered. You’re exploring each other again, mapping your bodies with subtle touches and observant eyes. 

Jungkook strips off his slacks, steps off his shoes along with socks. He sends you a cheeky grin. “Now we’re even.” He swallows your giggle with his mouth, not wasting any more time and pressing you against his body.  

You moan when you feel his erection touching your hip. He uses it as an opportunity to slither his tongue inside, each experienced lick making it hard for you to follow his tempo. You go lax in his hold, letting him snap your bra open. He maneuvers your body until you’re laying on your back and he’s straddling your waist.  

“So pretty,” he marvels, palms caressing your breasts. Your nipples harden under his ministrations, breathy moan escaping your lips when he pinches them. “Such a pretty baby.” he repeats, lost in touching every part of you he can reach.

Jungkook peppers kisses on your belly, hands travelling to your thighs. He leans to kiss you on your panty-clad mound. You mewl at the sensation, unconsciously sliding your legs wide open and giving him more access to your center. “Can I eat you out?” he asks, continuing mouthing over your pussy. When you don’t answer him in time, he slaps your thigh in reprimand. ‘’Hmm?”  

“Please,” you whimper, mind send into overdrive. Minho rarely went down on you and you almost forgot how good it feels to have someone’s mouth on you.

Jungkook grasps your underwear and pulls it down your legs, revealing your dripping pussy to his hungry eyes. His breath tickles your folds, sheets grasped tightly between your fingers. Jungkook kitten-licks your pulsing clit, eyes trained on your face to see every small reaction he emits from you.

“Jungkook,” you keen, hips rising to chase after his mouth.  

He nibbles on your thigh playfully, flashing you a sly smile. “What do you want, doll?”  

It’s the ‘doll’ that makes you whine pitifully at him. He relishes in it, sucking your clit into his mouth as an apology for his teasing.  You whimper, “Please, I want more. Give me more.”  

‘’Demanding, are we?” he snorts but complies anyway. No matter how much he loves hearing you beg, he enjoys eating you out more. He covers you your pussy with his mouth, tongue swiping over your sensitive numb. He licks up clean your soaking slit, not missing a single drop of your pearly arousal.

He groans at the taste and throws your legs over his shoulders. He pulls you even closer to him until his face is burried between thighs. Your fingers wander to his hair on their own accord, threading into his silky strands. After a harsh suck he abuses your clit with, you pull. It spurs him on even more, a groan mouthed against your pussy causing even more slick to drip down your opening. 

“Tell me how good it feels.” he mumbles, glancing up at your face. You focus your sight on him, his chin is shining with translucent substance, hair tangled and sweaty against his forehead.  

“So good,” you mewl.  

“Yeah? That good?” Jungkook asks, tone almost mocking. You’re now only nodding in response, your cunt pulsing with a need to release. “Can you cum for me like this, baby?” he mouths along your folds.  

“Please, please,” You’re nearly crying, tears pricking in the corners because the pleasure is too much to bear. Your clit throbs, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Oh my god–Kook!”  

“Good girl,” He rewards you with two slender fingers pushing inside your pussy, searching for that one stop that makes your insides flutter. “My pretty baby, tastes so sweet for me.” he rasps before licking a stripe up your cunt.

His digits slide even deeper into you. It sounds sinfully wet but you don’t care, accepting whatever he gives you. And give does he, plunging his fingers repeatedly inside and flicking his tongue against your bud – a perfect symphony to finally send you over the edge.

“There you go,” he murmurs, feeling your walls tightening around his fingers. More juices leak out of your hole and he drinks them up eagerly. “My pretty girl doing so good for me.”  

He prolongs your orgasm until you stop him with a breathy whimper of, “’m sensitive.”  

Jungkook gets up to hover over your shaking body. He opens your mouth with a deep, wet kiss. You taste your arousal on his tongue, feeling no longer foreign and eliciting a moan out of you. His length presses against your hip, hard and straining his briefs. With a surge of boldness you reach down, rolling his underwear off his body. His cock slaps against his abdomen, curved tip leaking precum.

Nibbling on your bottom lip you watch as his hand encloses around his member, giving it a few pumps. He groans, head thrown back. Your eyes focus on the sweat dripping down his sculpted body all the way from his neck down his chest. Jungkook is a sight for sore eyes– slim waist, toned thighs. Everything about him is mesmerizing.  

He settles between your legs, cock prodding at your folds. “You sure?” he asks, searching for your eyes.  

You don’t answer him verbally this time and he doesn’t press about it. Instead you open your legs even wider, a small smile dancing on your features as you nod. You’re welcoming the stretch with a drawn out moan. He pushes himself inside slowly, until he’s flushed against your pelvis, his neatly trimmed pubic hair tickling your skin.  

“Fuck,” he curses, hands coming up to grip your sides so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave fingertip bruises. “You’re so perfect, baby. Made for me.” He leans to press a kiss on your mouth, tongue lazily lacing with yours. It’s messy, saliva trickling down your chin but you don’t care, reciprocating with vigor.  

Jungkook pulls away and places one last peck on your cheek. “Ready?” he murmurs.  

You couldn’t be more than. “Ready.”  

He picks up the pace, blindly reaching for your legs to make you encircle his waist. You’ve never fucked in this position before, with him so close to your face you could practically taste the sweat dripping off his body on your lips. He relishes in having you like this, palms caressing every square inch of your flesh. 

‘’God, I missed having you like this, doll,” he grunts. He props his hand next to your head and it gives him leverage to hammer himself faster into your cunt. “Do you like how I’m fucking you?” he asks and you keen in response. He doesn’t seem to be satisfy with your reaction. “Too fucked out to speak?” You hear him chuckling evily into your ear.

“Shit, Jungkook,” you whimper, throwing your hands over his neck. His skin his hot and slippery under your touch. He rams himself even harder into you, hips never losing the rhythm. You feel the pressure building up in your abdomen already, reducing you to mewling mess underneath him. “I-I love it. So, so much.” you stammer out.

“Yeah?” he prompts, fingers slipping down your belly to toy with your clit. “Love how my cock is fucking you?”

“Yes, yes–fuck,” you chant. “So good.”  

He loses himself in you, in the way how tight you feel around his cock. He tells you this, spits filthy obscenities into your ear and punctuates it with deep strokes inside you. He wants to have you like this forever, keep you to himself and hide from the whole world.  

It’s selfish of him to think that way but he can’t help it, not when you’re moaning so pretty when he tightens his grip on your waist and rails you harder into the mattress. Not when you’re there when he needs you, when you’re his lifeboat bringing him back to the land (sanity).  

He wants to see you smile for him, because of him. Wants to call you his. And that’s what he asks you to, begs in stranded voice. “Say you’re mine,”  You’re shaking your head, tears threatening to spill from your eyes but he needs to hear you say it even if it’ll be just this once. “Please, tell me you’re mine, ___.”

Your whole body shudders from pleasure. You open your quivery lips but nothing comes out of it except for a broken whimper of his name. “J-jungkook–”

“Please,” he pleads once again, entangling your hands from around his neck and pinning them over your head instead. “Say nobody will ever make you feel this way. Fuck you until you cry,” he continues, fingers circling your nub with ferocity. “Fucking say it!”  

You sob, pleasure rippling through your body and throwing you off the edge. “I’m yours,” you whisper hoarsly, staring into his dark orbs. “Yours, yours, yours!” you repeat, creaming his cock with your release.  

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans and you don’t know it’s because of your confession or your walls constracting around his member. Maybe it’s the mixture of both. “You’re mine just like I’m yours.” he spits as the orgasm approaches him, shuddering through his whole body. He comes with a call of your name, spilling himself inside.  

You whimper at the sensation, your arousal mixing with his and dripping from your hole. Jungkook lets go of your wrists, pressing a peck on each of them. His palm cups your cheek and he leans down to kiss you. It’s lazy, your mouths barely moving but it feels good anyway.  

He’s in the middle of pulling his softening cock out of your core when you hear your mum’s voice.  

“___, honey, are you here?” She’s downstairs, approximately forty-five seconds from reaching your room.

Jungkook sends you a panicked look. “Go lock my door!” you hiss. 

He obliges quickly, naked butt jogging across the room to twist the key. You can’t help but giggle as he tiptoes to the bed again. He puts a hand over your mouth and murmurs, “Shhh, be quiet.”  

Your mum’s heels clink on the stairs. Few seconds later she’s knocking on your door. “___, are you there?” she asks. You’re praying she won’t twist the handle because in that case you’ll have a lot of awkward explaining to do. Fortunately, she gives up. “I guess they went for a walk.”  

By ‘they’ she means you and Jungkook who’s currently stifling a laugh against your shoulder. “Well, maybe not for a walk but something equally energy-draining.” he whispers. You elbow him in the stomach, making him chuckle even harder.

When you hear the door to your house closing, you let out a breath of relief. “I knew fucking in my childhood bedroom wasn’t a good idea.”

Jungkook smirks. “You sure about that?” he teases, squeezing your hip. It makes you roll your eyes but you don’t hide the smile on your face afterwards anyway.

Jungkook reaches for your panties and rolls you onto your back, carefully cleaning you up and then himself. He tucks you beneath the covers, encircling your body with his arm. You relish in the heat radiating of him, pressing your cheek right where his heart beats.

“You’ve never told me what would be my biography’s title.” Jungkook says after a moment.  

You smile to yourself, fingertips drawing patterns on his skin absentmindedly. “I’d call it ‘Lost Star’.” you answer.  

“Because I’m a troublesome celebrity?” he chuckles and you shake your head.  

“Well, of course you can interpret it like that but for me it has more of a metaphorical sense,” you explain. “You’re a star, like those on the sky, which got lost and came to Earth instead. That’s why you’re so special. Because you’re out of this world.”  

“I’m no special,” Jungkook grumbles, pouting.  

You sit up from your position to look him in the eyes. “You’re wrong, Jeon Jungkook. And I think I’m not the only person who thinks the same,” you urge. He meets your gaze and you realise how young he looks right now. Young and boyish. “You make thousands of people smile because of your music. That’s a special ability to me.”  

He flashes you a small smile. “I’ve never thanked you for believing in me from the very beginning.” he says, cupping your cheek in his palm.  

“Always.”  

You drift off to sleep with his voice humming softly in your ears.

[4 months later]

“Bangtan Sonyeondan are currently at the Incheon International Airport, leaving for their upcoming world tour. Their first show will be held this Saturday in Los Angeles and–”

You walk into the living room and sit on the sofa, staring at the pictures Korean press took of Jungkook and his bandmates while they were departing to US. They are dressed in their casual clothing and you know the fans are going to freak out seeing Jungkook’s hair has gotten long enough to tie it in a man bun. You’re almost sure the news have already spread on Twitter.

The TV is too big for your liking but Jungkook insisted on buying it anyway. You can almost see the pimple on his cheek he woke up with this morning. It makes you smile involuntarily.

Rest of the design in his–now yours as well– apartment was mainly your idea. He bought it without telling you because he knew you would freak out. And you did, obviously, call him crazy. But he didn’t mind. Told you he needed a space for himself for a very long time and now he has someone to share it with.  

The house feels empty without him. It’s too spacious for one person and when he’s not around, you feel like intruder. But you’ve put on your big girl shoes this morning after a passionate round of love making and teary-eyed goodbyes. You won’t slip them off until he will come home to you in two months.  

He promised he would show you Paris and London. You know he will keep that promise, although you aren’t sure you’ll be able to make it with your new job. After breaking up with Minho, Jungkook encouraged you to try sending your drafts to different publishing companies. And one of them responded positively.

You check your phone–your smiling face meeting you on the lockscreen. Jungkook’s smooching your cheek, but prying eyes wouldn’t be able to tell it’s him from that angle. His last text message is from fifteen minutes ago.  

[5:55pm] jungkook:  

We’re departing in 20 minutes  

I’m missing you already so much:(

You reply, although he’s probably fast asleep like he always does during flying.  

[6:01pm] me:  

Miss u too!!

And you mean it. You’re missing him when he’s at his dance practice, when he’s in the studio. But it has to be enough for now.  

The dates he takes you for have to be in the confines of your apartment. You can’t go for a walk and hold his hand or kiss him in public. He said you needed to wait for the tour to end to discuss publicly announcing your relationship. You’re wondering what’s better: forever hiding or being judged for every step you take.

You’re a strong girl, he once told you. And you’ll continue being one. For the two teenagres on the beach smiling to the camera in the framed photo next to your TV.  

However long it takes.  

#jungkook smut #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #smutcentralnet #maknaesmutsociety #bangtanhq #btsbookclub #btswriterscollective #jungkook angst #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #my writing #lost stars

[suchalonelysunflower]

A Dance Of Thorns (c.h)

Where The Roses Bloom - Chapter 4

Pairing: Stable Lad! Calum Hood x Princess! Reader

Summary: Welcome to the masquerade to celebrate Your Royal Highness engagement. How many surprises can one night hold?

Warnings: Angst, Drama and Smut. Language, mentions of alcohol and abuse. Some grammatical mistakes (English is not my first language, I’m sorry!)

Word Count: 12.3 k

Author’s note: by far the longest chapter I’ve written but anything for the drama ✨ I would love to hear your thoughts on this 🥰 Remember that Reblogs, Feedback, Comments and Likes are very important! You have no idea how much they help me 💕 Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋🌻✨

My materialist // wanna be part of my tag list?

Series Materialist || prologue || chapter one || chapter two || chapter three || chapter five || chapter six || chapter seven || epilogue

A month has gone by since the first time you saw King Luke Hemmings and you found out that you are supposed to marry him in less than a few weeks. And ever since that moment, you have invested every little free time you have into trying to stop that from happening.

You spent your afternoons sitting down at the library, reading book after book that might contain some kind of information to let you escape that awful deal. But every book you read said the same thing “A King’s promise may never be broken by law”

Still, that didn’t stop you.

Calum was also helping in every way he could. In the afternoons on his free days, he would go to the public library in town, searching for anything that could help your situation. He would spend hours reading about foreign laws that could give you at least some kind of leverage. He would ask around, hoping some kind of gossip might help you win something against your father, but until now all your tries gave little to no satisfaction.

At night, Calum would climb the castle’s walls to your window. It was the only way you could spend some time together and share hushed conversations since your father forbade you to go out without a proper companion.

He would lay with you in your bed, curled up together as he told you stories about faraway lands his father once told him, all in attempts to distract your mind from the reality you were facing every time the sun came out. He would kiss you goodnight as you fell asleep in his arms, letting the beat of his heart work as the symphony of your dreams. You would whisper “I love you’s” in the darkest of the room, letting them get lost in the stars as they shined down on you.

Every night you would go to sleep with Calum around your arms, but when the sun came up all traces of him disappeared with the moon. Well, everything but the white rose he left on your dresser along with the promise of keep fighting for you, no matter how long it took.

And with the sun it came the charade. You acted as the most obedient daughter you could ever think of. You attended your lessons, you didn’t speak out of place and obliged to every activity that surrounded the wedding, whether it was about flowers, food, decorations… things you couldn’t care less about since you were determined no to marry the King.

King Luke was not a bad person, on the contrary, he was one of the few people you could have a conversation with besides Sir Michael. Many afternoons they would accompany you in the library, never commenting about the books you chose to read as they sat in silence one in front of the other, immersed in their reading or their hushed conversations.

You learned to find a friend in Luke, someone that could have at least the same amount of trust you once had with your brother. He would make you laugh and he’d tell you everything you wanted to know about him, it was so easy and somewhat comforting to know that you were not as alone as you felt. But that did not mean that he had your full trust.

After Ashton took your father’s side in this dilemma, leaving you alone in a marriage you wanted no part of, you lost every ounce of trust you once held in your heart. And even though Ashton did try to make it better, to apologize for the way he treated you; you did not let him go near you. Every time you found yourself alone with him, you ignored his every move, and if you were in the company of others you didn’t even dignify him with a glance. You knew you might be a little harsh on him, and all of this hurt you as well, more than you would care to admit. But if your father learned about you and Calum… who else could’ve told him if not your brother?

Out of all the people who could betray you, you never expected Ashton to be one of them and you let him know that, no matter how much you needed your brother with you. If he declared your death with this marriage before you were sent away, then he’d be dead to you as well.

You were not going to give up, not even with the ceremony breathing on the back of your neck. There must be a way where you could break this engagement, something that could give you your freedom again.

The ceremony was scheduled one day before your twenty-first birthday, one day before you gained your independence as a royal as the law said it, one day before you could refuse the King’s requests with total liberty. Your father had planned this well, you must admit at least that. But if there was a way where you could delay the wedding… somehow make it past your birthday without getting married, then you would be able to get away.

But that task was more difficult than you have anticipated since your father was in charge of your schedule, everything was going smoothly and at perfect timing. There was nothing that you could do to delay the event.

“I need you to hold your breath for me, Your Highness”

For example right now, as the seamstresses adjusted the corset of your white dress to your body, your mind was reciting the laws again, trying to find some plothole that could be beneficial for you.

The grip you had in the chair tightened as they tied the corset on your back, helping you get into the skirt afterward. You didn’t say a word as the seamstresses chattered among them. You ignored the comments regarding your future marriage, or how beautiful your children will look if they look just like the King, or how lucky you were to be marrying into a rich kingdom.

“You will look beautiful on your wedding day, Your Highness,” The oldest lady said with a dreamy sigh “Your lover will not know what hit him”

“But my love will not be the one waiting at the end of the altar” You wanted to say, to scream at them for keeping up with the lie. You didn’t love Luke, you could never love him the way you love Calum. But Calum was not your fiance, he was just a secret.

You kept the tears at bay as you let them work over your dress, not daring to breathe too loud so you wouldn’t call their attention. They didn’t know that you were dying in the middle of a sea of white fabric and soft silk.

“There,” The young lady exclaimed as she finished the last touch of your veil, placing it carefully on your head “Oh, Your Highness. You look like a dream”

A dream trapped in a nightmare indeed.

You observed your reflection in the nearest window. You didn’t look like a child anymore; no, in front of you was the reflection of a woman, of a bride about to be sent to the slaughter of her liberty. A clockwork tragedy waiting to happen.

The white contrasted with your skin and hair, making you glow with the candlelight. It made you look more mature, more like a royal than you ever felt before. It was a beautiful work, but none of this ever felt right.

“You look just like your mother” The words of the older lady took your breath away. The memory of your mother’s face was already fading in your mind, you remember she was beautiful, but you couldn’t make the color of her eyes or the sound of her voice anymore.

“She would be so proud of you, Your Highness”

Would she? Would she have wanted this for you? If she were here, would she care or would she take your father’s side? Oh, what would you give to listen to one last piece of advice from her. To feel her embrace one more time, for her to tell you that everything would be okay.

You haven’t really felt the absence of your mother hit you as hard as of now because maybe with your mother here you wouldn’t feel so scared.

“Oh, don’t cry, princess” You didn’t even notice the tears running down your face until the lady pointed out “This is a happy occasion! There needn’t be any tears”

Only if she knew…

You accepted the silk handkerchief and dried your tears without saying anything, letting them help you out of your wedding gown as you tried on another one.

This was a black dress with roses embroidered along with the skirt and neckline. It was lighter than the wedding dress but the fabric was more delicate. The somber aspect of the dress, along with its sophistication, made you think of it as a better choice for your wedding day.

“Your father was very kind to host a party to celebrate your engagement, Your Highness. This is a perfect dress for the occasion”

You knew by now that none of your father’s actions could be considered kind. He organized this masquerade ball for his own benefit.

The King of RoseWood invited representatives of all the neighboring kingdoms and alliances that Ashton helped build, to the castle for a magical night of dancing and fun. But you knew he just wanted to parade the match you and Luke made in front of the world.

He wanted to show power, the kind of which someone would look at him and say “This is a man that demands respect” When in reality all he did was abuse his power and intimidate the ones closest to him.

The masquerade served as a punishment rather than a delight. He would put you under the spotlight and expect you to smile while he knows you’re dying on the inside. He will parade you around the room with the story of a good and lovable daughter, the little Princess that’s living the dream of a magical life in the arms of the man you love all thanks to the father whom she loved with all her heart.

He knew that this was all bullshit, and he rejoiced in the fact that you hated every single minute of it.

“The dress is absolutely stunning, Your Highness” Continued the older lady “What a lovely idea you had when deciding to use one of your mother’s old gowns and make it new again”

You gave her a small smile. It was a lovely idea, but not for the reasons they might think. This dress represented much more than just your mother and your wish of having her close in a moment like this. It represented going against your father in ways that only he could understand; it represented your heritage, how you didn’t forget who truly loved you and taught you how to be strong; it represented the image of the rebellion you set upon yourself, a sign that screamed “I will not stop even if you try”

It represented you.

“There is only one detail missing…” The young lady walked over to the dresser only to grab something delicate in her hands before presenting it to you: The mask.

Soft and made out of silk and with golden broderies across the eyes, the mask hid half of your face perfectly. If not for the tiara you must wear on your head, nobody would’ve been able to recognize who you were.

How ironic was it that in the night where you should be the center of attention, you wanted nothing more than to disappear.

*

The night was clear, all the stars and constellations were visible from where you were standing in front of your window. Your hands were touching the soft stones of the window frame as you tried to count your breaths.

You couldn’t help but look for him in the gardens, hoping you could see him waiting for you under your window, asking you to come to the tree where your meetings were held before everything went wrong. It’s only been a couple of days but you missed him, and with the way, he consumes all your thoughts it was almost impossible not to.

But he was not coming tonight, your father made sure that the help was not invited to the party since it was such an important event to make it “common”, so your meeting will have to wait until tomorrow.

Still, you imagined how it would be like if he were to attend the ball. You dreamt about his smile, how his eyes would shine once he spotted you standing there at the top of the stairs as he waited for you at the end of it. You wondered if he would like the dress and you wished you could show it to him.

You sighed as you imagined his hand taking yours, guiding you to the middle of the ballroom, and starting dancing with you as if nobody were watching. It’s been so long since your last dance with him and you couldn’t help but laugh at the memory of his clumsy feet stepping over yours in an attempt to teach you how to dance for your first ball.

Calum was always like that, caring and selfless until he couldn’t give anymore. That is one of the many things why you loved him, why you would never stop loving him.

But now you were forced to pretend to love someone else in front of strangers and people who didn’t care about you enough to notice how much you were hurting. The glamour of the night might hide it, but you know that there was only one person who you would much rather spend the night with; the only person who would not be there tonight.

“Y/N?” A voice called from outside your room, waking up from your dreams as you heard them knocking softly on the door “Are you ready to go?”

You pushed yourself from the window with a deep sigh, grabbing the mask that was laying on top of the bed before walking towards the door and opening it with an emotionless expression.

There, Ashton was waiting for you, pacing the hall until he heard the wooden door open. His whole body froze as his lips parted for a second when he took your appearance.

“You-” He said, choking up a little bit as he shook his head for a moment, thinking he might’ve seen a ghost “You look just like her…”

You were not expecting that comment. You knew the dress would affect your father, but you didn’t imagine it would have that kind of effect on Ashton.

But now, as he stood in front of you with wide, watering eyes and the faintest hint of a smile, you realized that you might not be the only one who misses your mother.

Ashton knew her longer, he used to spend every single moment with her along with you when you were nothing more than a child. When she died, you didn’t quite grasp the concept of death, but Ashton was the one who took it way harder. But, as a prince, he was not allowed to break down as any other normal kid would do when they lose a parent who was dear to them. No, he had to maintain his image and at the same time took it upon himself to raise you as your mother would.

He was the only loving family you’ve ever known. But he was also the only person who had ever broken your heart.

You looked at him with a sense of pity and understanding.

“I wanted to feel her with me tonight” You told him, these being the first words you exchanged with Ashton in a long time.

You noticed this also affected him. His eyebrows raised slightly and he took one step towards you, still bargaining with your feelings towards him.

Ashton took your hand in his, covering it completely as he softly spoke.

“You are her spitting image, Y/N/N. She has always been with you and lived through you. Everything you do reminds me of her and I promise you she would be proud of the beautiful, brave woman you’ve become”

His words struck you more than they probably should have. Ashton was never the one who spoke freely about your mother, not since you stopped needing him as much. He always kept that part to himself unless you asked.

He thought so highly of your mother and now he was comparing her to you. For some reason, this served as no comfort, but rather it angered you. Not because you didn’t think your mother was a horrible person, but because you thought that maybe if they - your father and Ashton - loved you as much as they loved her, you wouldn’t have to be in this position.

“The only difference is that mother’s family did not sell her for marriage,” You said bitterly, pulling your hand from Ashton’s grip as you saw hurt flash through his eyes.

“Y/N-“

“She loved our father, Ashton” You cried “For some reason she loved him and she married for love. Why can’t you let me do the same? Why can’t you help me and let me be happy? Am I to be trapped forever in a loveless marriage just because of the greed of this kingdom's leaders? I don’t even know what alliances we are keeping! In what world is it fair that I have to sacrifice my spirit just to please your egos?”

“You know it’s not like that-“

“For you, maybe! But you know exactly what father is doing and why he is doing it and you are taking his side! Ashton, you are just as guilty as he is” Your truth was spilling out of your mouth with nothing but desperation.

You wanted your brother to know how you were feeling, how much you were willing to fight for your freedom. For weeks you’ve been holding these words out of pride and pettiness, but you cannot go a day longer without letting him know just how much this is affecting you.

“I can’t trust you, Ash, and I can’t pretend that we are going to be okay after all of this no matter what happens in the end. You broke my heart, and I don’t think you understand to what extent”

Ashton stood in front of you with his head low “You hate me”

“I’m disappointed” You admitted, knowing you will have a hard time trying to hate your brother.

“Y/N, I’m just trying to do what’s best for the kingdom. What’s best for you!” He excused “You will be safe in the Vail, you’ll be a Queen and I know King Luke will treat you right. You have to understand that this is hard for me, too. But I can’t be here to protect you-“

“Protect me?” You interrupted him “Protect me from what?” He stayed quiet “Ashton?”

“Your Highnesses?” A guard called from the end of the hall “The King awaits”

*

“Announcing Prince Ashton Irwin, Heir to the Throne of RoseWood, and Princess Y/N Irwin, Future Queen of the Vail”

Wilsburg’s voice ran across the ballroom accompanied with two stumps of his scepter, calling everyone’s attention as you and Ashton descended the staircase together, claiming your rightful titles as everyone’s heads turned around to see you.

You kept your head high with every step you gave. All eyes were on you but you were not able to recognize anyone as their faces were covered with masks of every form, color, texture, and shape.

When you reached the end of the staircase, you and Ashton walked together to the center of the room where your father was standing with a winning smile plastered on his face. You were never prone to violence, but the feeling of wanting to punch your father in the face and erase that smile grew every minute.

You stood in front of your father and his court and gave him a courtesy in sign of respect. Your father’s eyes met yours once you stood straight again, and you couldn’t deny the feeling of pride that overwhelmed you when you saw the pure disgust in them as he took a glance at what you were wearing, knowing that this time he couldn’t do anything about it.

“My children,” He said with fake tenderness as he opened his arms in welcome.

It was so easy for him to fool the people who surrounded him, making everyone believe he was a good, caring, and loving father. But you could see clearly through his mask, no matter how much he tried to hide it - this time literally as his masks covered most of his face - he will never look at you with an ounce of love.

“King Luke Hemmings from the Vail and his loyal advisor, Sir Michael Clifford from Chesthire” Wilsburg announced, saving you from your father’s stare as the attention shifted back to the staircase where Luke and Michael were.

They walked next to each other, his movements identical as they elegantly descended into the party. They were both wearing the shades of blue that represented their Kingdom, each of them with matching masks that made them look regal, undoubtedly showcasing their royal status and importance.

Luke spotted your little broken family in the middle of the room, smiling a little bit and nodding towards you as he and Michael approached you with ease while the guests made way for them.

“Your Majesty” Luke bowed to your father, but his attention did not linger on him as much because soon his eyes were on you.

You noticed how blue his eyes looked under the mask, his blond curls falling perfectly to his shoulders and making him look like an actual angel.

“Princess,” He said, bowing just enough to capture your hand in his and bringing it to his lips, softly kissing your knuckles.

“Your Majesty,” You greeted him with courtesy, thankful that at least you’ll have some friendly faces in the crowd. “Sir Clifford. I must say you look very elegant today,”

You caught a glimpse of blush under the young guard’s mask, his green eyes sparkled at the compliment. His outfit was not as elegant as Luke’s, but his hair was pushed back in a short ponytail at the ends of his neck making him look like a prince.

“One can only try, Your Highness” He answered with a dashing smile “But, surely, no beauty compares to you, Princess. People should envy your exterior as well as your kind heart. My King is a lucky man” He said, looking back at Luke who was already smiling at him.

King Richard cleared his throat loudly, making the three of you turn your attention to him. His jaw was tight as he showed a smile to the other monarch.

“Now that the guest of honor has arrived,” Your father said with a loud, authority tone “Let the festivity begin!”

The small orchestra that worked under your father’s orders started to play lovely symphonies the minute those words came out of their King’s mouth. The other guests soon resumed their previous chatter and quickly got lost in the celebratory atmosphere, some grabbing drinks while others started dancing along with the soft melodies.

You stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, fidgeting with your fingers as you watched how your father called Ashton’s attention and took him aside for a talk. Your eyes roamed across the room, feeling out of place as you caught glimpses of people passing by, not knowing anyone as they proceeded to ignore you.

You thought about how this will be your life from now on. How you will end up alone in some party you don’t feel comfortable in just to please the aesthetics of how a royal should be. People will not be interested in you, only your title, and they will judge you, envy you, hate you, and take advantage of you for it. You will not be Y/N anymore, you won’t have the chance to. You will be a Queen and that’s all people will want to know as you will be pushed away into someone’s shadow.

“Not much of a social butterfly, I see” You heard Luke comment next to you, leaning over to your side so he could whisper in your ear.

You gave him a small smile, “I was never really fond of parties,” You admitted quietly “Which is ironic, given that I always wanted to attend these kinds of gathering when I was a child”

Luke laughed softly, “I believe that is because you don’t know how to properly have fun at a party” He chuckled once he saw your confused gaze “Michael, have you seen Lady Thompson today?”

Michael, who was standing in front of you, smiled as his gaze followed Luke’s “I cannot believe she came here after the scandal”

“The scandal?” You asked, trying to see whom they were talking about.

“Oh, yes. Haven’t you heard?” Luke asked casually “Her poodle caught a case of hair eating fleas, and once they left the poor dog bald, they went for the main of hair Lady Thompson used to brag about”

Yours parted your lips in shock, but Michael continued “Not only that, but I heard she’s telling everyone how her hair grew back in just a few hours by putting some kind of magical mud she found near the river end”

Finally, your gaze fell into the person they were discussing and you furrowed your eyebrows.

“That’s not Lady Thompson, her name is Lady Judith from the Mountains of Chaversty” Your eyes fell back on Luke and Michael, who were trying to suppress a laugh “You are mocking me…”

“Not at all, Princess,” Luke said with a chuckle “We are just teaching you how to have fun”

“When we were kids, we used to sneak into the palace’s parties and hide under tables watching people pass and creating narratives about their lives” Michael explained “We started with a simple sentence, and then we created the most outrageous stories from them. The one who could come up with the craziest storyline would win”

“And somehow, I always ended up losing,” Luke smiled as Michael shrugged.

“It’s not my fault that you lack creativity,”

You smiled fondly at their teasing banter. You were amazed at how titles were forgotten when they were just talking to one another, it seemed so simple to them to call each other by their name as if they were normal people. And seeing that, somehow, made you feel less alone.

They taught you how to play in between their anecdotes and inside jokes, but you didn’t feel left out as you remember Luke’s words about Michael and how much he means to him. It was their little thing, their little moment in time that they could share with none other than each other, and still were kind enough to share some of that with you.

You spend a few hours playing the game and laughing along with them as they found you a worthy opponent with how many crazy stories you could pull out of your mind in an instant. One of the rules was that you couldn’t tell real names nor real gossips about those people to keep their integrity and the innocence of the game, so all your thoughts and outraged comments were taken lightly with fun. You even won a couple of times.

From time to time, people came to congratulate you and Luke on your engagement. You were glad to know that they could never notice how uncomfortable you looked thanks to the mask, but you were one hundred percent sure that he and Michael noticed how your posture changed and how you tensed at the mention of the wedding. Luckily, they brushed it off and carried on like it was nothing.

Sometime later, Luke went to grab some drinks for you and him, leaving you alone with Michael who quickly started a conversation with you about sword fighting and training.

You were too immersed in the conversation that you didn’t notice a person standing behind you until they cleared their throat.

“Pardon me, Your Highness,” You heard someone say. The familiarity of that voice sent shivers down your body and made your throat dry the second you heard it.

You turned around in a fast movement that made the skirt of your dress appear like it was floating above the floor. Your breath got caught up in your chest as you were suddenly hyper-aware of every inhale and exhale your body made the moment your eyes met his.

There he was, hiding under a white mask that matched his white and gold suit that once belonged to his father. There he was, standing in front of you and hiding in plain sight as his brown eyes were set on yours, taking you in as he let out a sigh in amazement.

“Calum…” You wanted to call him by his name out loud, to jump into his arms as you let the tears that were gathering in your eyes fall free from the happiness you were feeling at that moment. The kind of happiness only he could bring with such ease; the kind of happiness that you longed to experience all your life as long as he was next to you.

But you couldn't say that, you couldn’t blow his cover like that. If they found out he sneaked into the party, they would surely put him in the dungeon for god knows how long. He took a lot of risks coming here, and one word from you might throw that all away.

Instead, Calum noticed your hesitant shock, so he smiled softly as he said.

“Will you give me the greatest honor and pleasure of sharing one dance with me, Your Highness?”

You wanted to answer immediately, but according to the protocols a woman always needs their partner's permission to dance with a stranger. But Luke was not your real partner and Calum was not a stranger. You could feel your heart wanting to jump out of your chest from how strongly it was beating, but you couldn't identify if it was beating out of excitement or fear.

You looked over to Michael who was already staring at you with a curious gaze. He could easily see the unsaid pleading inside your eyes as you fought with the need to take this stranger’s hands in yours. The green-eyed man looked over between the two of you and was able to connect the dots in an instant.

Then, he simply smiled understandingly as he said “Just another secret between us, Princess” Looking at you like the way he did the morning you eavesdropped on your father’s conversation with Luke.

You let out a breath of relief as you nodded, silently thanking him as you watched him walk away just a little bit to give you and Calum enough privacy.

When you turned back to Calum, he looked as relieved as you felt, kindly offering his hand to you.

“May I take this dance, my rose?”

“You may”

Calum took your hand in his, kissing your knuckles as he softly guided you to the middle of the dance floor where several other couples were waiting for the next piece to start.

He placed a hand to your waist, stocking his fingers slowly over the fabric and bringing you closer to him as he held your hand with his other one. You blushed as you placed your free hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly to encourage him.

You both understood how recklessly dangerous this was; to be dancing in front of everyone as your fiance stood somewhere in the room, probably wondering where you were, and with your father and brother at such a close distance. But neither of you cared when your eyes met again through the masks.

You didn’t care about the risks as long as you were holding each other like this; when you finally felt free inside the cage.

A sweet melody filled the air, but you were too focused on Calum to even listen. You only realized the dance has started when you felt his fingers grace your waist tightly as he spun you around with delicacy, taking the lead as you followed his steps with care.

Memories of your first dance together flooded your mind and you couldn’t help but smile. You were only children back then, now it seems like another life.

“You learned how to dance…” You said fondly in a hushed tone, a blush covering your cheeks as you heard him softly chuckle at your comment.

“I had to. I didn’t want to embarrass myself the next time we’d dance”

“You knew there would’ve been the next time back then?”

“I always hoped I’d get to dance with you again after that night” He admitted, his eyes never leaving yours “You are the only one who I’d like to dance with all my life”

His feet moved carefully around your dress, following the other couples as they spun and changed places with their partners placing their hands together between their two bodies. A classical dance made for lovers, for one must never leave their partner’s eyes as they spin and turn just to fall back into their arms again.

It was slow at first, building its tempo as more instruments were added to the melody, making it enchanting, haunting as they took over the room with an admirable strength that only a feeling of utter power could describe as beautiful. It was supposed to represent passion and how it can dominate you, slowly and then all at once before you even realize it was there.

“You look absolutely beautiful, my rose,” He said once his hand was placed to your lower back, pulling you closer to him as you let your hand wander just inches from the back of his neck. “You always knew how to put flowers to shame, but tonight you look just as radiant as the moon itself”

“Calum…”

“Shh,” He whispered, “Let me tell you my truth while I still can, my love. For if this is one of the last times I shall see you, let me relish on how beautiful you are. Let me tell you all the compliments in the world and see me fall short since no compliment could ever be enough to capture just how enchanting you are”

You tugged on the hand that was holding yours.

“Why do I feel like you’re saying goodbye?”

“I’m not” Calum answered quickly “That’s the last thing I’ll ever do. But seeing you tonight just reminded me that I don’t tell you how much you mean to me. And I promise you that when we get out of this situation, I promise that I’ll tell you every day of my life”

“When,” You thought “Not if, but when. It’s just a matter of time”

To know that Calum hasn’t given up on you, on your love, meant the world to you. Most of the time you felt like you were battling alone as if no one was listening. But he was right there with you, even if you couldn’t see him or be with him all the time. He still hasn’t given up on you.

You felt it right there; the love. He was risking everything for you, to see you and be with you in the night where you’re supposed to celebrate your engagement. He broke every rule for a moment with you, knowing that you would do the same for him.

The music kept going, the crescendo was at its peak. Calum grabbed you with both his hands on your waist and picked you up as he turned around, placing you back on the ground to your initial position of one of your hands intertwined while the other rested on his shoulder and your lower back.

You giggled like children as he put you down, pretending the world didn’t exist as you swayed to the music. Tonight, you were a young couple enjoying their first dance together and loving every minute of it. Nothing else mattered.

You didn’t feel the stares of the guests or Ashton’s careful gaze as he tried to decipher who you were dancing with. You didn’t hear the whispers or notice how Luke hid his smile in his drink as he handed the other to Michael who looked at you in complicity. You didn’t see where your father has run off to, but you didn’t care.

You were in love. You were dancing with the love of your life; letting him guide your steps carefully as the crescendo started to go down and his grip on you tightened, not wanting to let go of this moment.

“I love you” Calum whispered just loud enough for you to hear.

You smiled like the sun “You are risking a lot by saying that here”

He shook his head “And I’ll risk even more if I have to. I cannot go a day without telling you I love you, my rose. Even if they throw me in the dungeon, I’ll find my way to you”

“Don’t say things like that,” You warned him as the melody started to fade “I’ll be damned if I lose you, Calum. This was reckless enough from both of our parts”

“And yet, you’re still dancing with me” He smiled as his movements started to slow down “My love for you is as reckless as it is endless, Y/N, and if I have to risk myself a thousand times; if I have to die a thousand times to love you freely then so be it. All of that will be worth it as long as you say it back”

You stare at him with tears in your eyes as the song reaches its end.

“I love you”

Calum stopped completely, letting go of his grip on your back but still holding your hand on his.

“And just like that, everything is worth it,” He said, placing a kiss on the back of your hand.

You smiled at him, chuckling through the unshed tears as you pondered in disbelief at just how lucky you are to love him and be loved by him.

“I’ll see you soon,” He said with a bow of his head.

“Aren’t you going to stay?” You knew you sounded a little desperate, but he just got here and, even though it was a little selfish on your part, you wanted him here just a little bit longer if possible.

Calum smiled “Only with the promise of another dance, my rose”

You nodded gracefully as Calum bowed once again before you watched him disappear into the crowd.

Your smile was still evident in your face as you gathered yourself and started to back up into the crowd, maybe try to find Luke to keep appearances until Calum asks for another dance.

“What a promising young man. Isn’t he, Y/N?”

The blood in your veins froze when you heard your father’s voice from behind you. You stood still, hoping you misheard him or mistaken him for another person that was passing by.

“Say, do we know him by any chance?” King Richard said with a mocking interest that made you want to run away right in that instant to find Calum and ask him to hide somewhere.

Instead, you turned around, and as calmly as you could, you answered:

“I’m afraid not, father. He didn’t tell me his name before nor after our dance”

“Didn’t I tell you never to talk to strangers, little Princess?”

He stood in front of you with a wicked smirk, not really waiting for an answer as he puffed his chest, showcasing the Kingdom’s shiny emblem on his fancy attire.

Your father lived for the adoration and fear of his subjects; he relished in your fear towards him for many years now, watching with delight as you submit to him out of fear or hope for any kind of attention he could show you. He adored the power he had over you, on how easy it was just to mess with your life as you’d allowed him to. And now, as you looked into his eyes you could see the fun he was having watching you tremble under his gaze, fearing that he might’ve discovered you.

The King looked you up and down and smirked as he announced “I believe it’s time for a father and daughter dance!”

The people who were gathering around the two of you started clapping and cheering as your father looked at you with a pleased gaze. You watched as the couples who were getting ready for the next dance suddenly left and were now standing to the side, anxiously waiting for the Princess and the King to have a sentimental moment.

From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of Ashton who was making his way to the center of the room, pushing people as he tried to get to you; on the opposite end of the room, Luke drifted his gaze between you and Michael with a hint of worry in his eyes. Calum was nowhere to be found as your eyes searched for him in the crowd and you couldn’t help but feel scared for him.

King Richard ran out of patience. He grabbed your hand in what seemed a delicate touch, but only you could feel how his nails dug in the skin of your hand, forcefully pulling you to the dancefloor.

You felt disgusted as his hand gripped your waist, snapping his fingers to the musicians with his other hand before gripping your wrist and holding it high.

When the music started, he moved you around the dancefloor in stiff circles; there was no delicacy, no softness in his touch as he dragged you at the rhythm of one of the sweetest melodies you’ve heard.

“That dress does not belong to you” Your father whispered in between a smile. A tone of warning lacing his every word.

You felt the buckle of your knees weakened your step, but you didn’t dare move your eyes from his.

Too long you’ve been under his domain, living in fear of his next move whenever you were left alone with him. The bruises healed but the scars remain as your memory recalled the moments where he would get so mad at you just for being there, how he hated you just for looking like her.

All the pain, self-doubt, hatred, and fear he put you through… all the times you let him win because you didn’t think it could ever become worse… it all came crashing down into a feeling of anger and resentment that only served to give you strength for your next words.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, father” You defied him with fake ignorance “This is my dress. My mother left it for me. Don’t you like it?”

King Richard locked his jaw, his eyes spitting fire as you held his stare without moving an inch as you danced through the room.

“I know what you’re doing, Y/N,” He said with a wicked smile “And you won’t win. You can’t”

He laughed maliciously as he saw the shocked look in your eyes.

“Did you really think I wasn’t going to find out what you were doing in the library this past few weeks?”

Your heart stopped at the statement, feeling weak as he got you figured it out. But how? How could he know unless someone told him? Someone who knew what you were looking for…

The color drained from your face as you stuttered “I-I don’t know what-”

“Don’t play stupid, you insolent child” His grip on your wrist tightened, hurting you in front of everyone without raising any suspicion “I have eyes everywhere, ears in every wall of this goddamned castle and you think you can outsmart me by hiding in the library and looking through the books of laws? But you still haven’t found what you’re looking for, correct?” He asked, smiling as he saw how you frowned at the truth “And I’ll make sure you never will. My plans will not be ruined by a weak little girl”

“Plans?” You asked suddenly, realizing that he overshared something he might’ve not supposed to say “What are you-?” You started, before everything became clear, remembering Ashton’s words from a few hours prior “The wedding, the alliance… That’s all just a trick, isn’t it? You need something from them, from Luke…”

You smiled to yourself as you saw your father speechless for the first time.

“You need me,” You stated as a matter of factly “And you know that I won’t ever help you voluntarily, that’s why you are forcing everyone to do this. You know I can stop you, you know there is a way to stop all of this and you’re afraid…”

His fingers dug into your skin with force, leaving red marks that will become bruises, but you didn’t even flinch.

“You don’t want to play games with me, child” King Richard said, all niceties dropped from his face “I am the King!”

“And I’m not scared of you!” You smiled with sufficiency “Look around, father. You want to play? Let's do it. Hurt me in front of all these people, let them see how their monarch loves his daughter. You cannot hurt me here”

A sense of pride came over you as you finally stood up for yourself to your father. You finally saw a flash of fear pass by his eyes as he scanned the room and saw all the eyes on him.

“I will stop you”

But then, the King smiled like the devil.

“I’d like to see you try. Stop the music!” He suddenly yelled, making all the guests flinch at the sound of his voice.

Your movements came to a stop, but the grip he had on your hand just became tighter and tighter, crushing your bones as you tried to get rid of his touch.

“My daughter, Princess Y/N, just had the most wonderful idea!” He announced to the crowd as you looked at him in shock while he smiled “She told me she cannot wait to be married, just like any other lady” He joked, making the guest laugh at you.

Your father cupped your face by the chin, applying pressure on it so you wouldn’t be able to say a word as he exclaimed:

“And who am I to deny anything to my beautiful, beautiful little princess? The wedding ceremony will take place in two days! And you are all more than invited!”

The crowd cheered and clapped as you felt sick to your stomach. Two days?! How are you going to stop everything in only two days?

You released yourself from your father’s grip, tears clouding your eyes as you saw the winning smirk on his face.

“I warned you not to play games, little rose”

You stood in horror as you watched your father disappear into the crowd, accepting congratulations on your behalf and laughing with the other guest at your “eagerness” of getting married already.

“Y/N?” You heard Ashton said and he placed a hand on your shoulder “Are you-?”

You felt your breathing start to pick up, short and fast exhales came with almost no intake of air to your lungs. You were getting dizzy, disoriented as you analyzed the situation.

It was so fast… too fast. It all happened too fast.

“Y/N-” Ashton tried again, but you shook yourself from his touch.

“For fuck’s sake leave me alone!” You half-whispered, half yelled as you picked up your skirt and ran away from the ballroom.

The sound of your heels clicking on the floor was drowned by the sound of your breathless sobbing as you desperately looked for a way out of the castle.

You couldn’t stay here anymore. You needed to find Calum, see if he’s okay, and just leave. But with every step you took your worry grew stronger as thoughts of Calum hurt flashed through your head.

“Rose,” He said. Your father called you rose. He knew. He knew! And you couldn’t find Calum.

“Y/N!” A voice called from behind you, the sound of their heels coming closer as you tried to get away from there “Y/N, wait!”

You were almost at the door leading to the gardens, just a few steps from freedom when you felt a hand grip your arm, making you stop.

Luke stood there in front of you, almost breathless as his eyes filled with worry when he saw your tear-filled eyes and your trembling lip trying its hardest to suppress a cry.

Without thinking it twice, the young King pulled you into a hug. You were shocked at first but eventually, you relaxed in his arms as he let you cry onto his chest, hearing muffled apologies in between sobs.

“It’s okay,” He said softly, looking to his side to find Michael catching up with them at a distance “It’s okay”

“No!” You cried “No, it’s not! Luke I-” You stopped as the words of your father filled your brain “I have eyes everywhere, ears in every wall…”

You grabbed onto Luke’s hand and guided him outside the palace, looking over your shoulder in case someone tried to approach you.

“Tell Michael to stay at the entrance,” You told him.

Luke nodded as he signaled Michael to stay where he was, letting you take him away to the entrance of the woods where you were somewhat hidden from the palace while still being able to see it from where you were standing.

“What is going on?” Luke asked calmly “Why are we hiding? Why did you tell your father you wanted to marry this soon? I-”

“I didn’t do it! You have to believe me in this, Luke. Please” You begged “He is trying to hurt me, to hurt you! I didn’t want any of this to happen, please believe me that I had no idea that would happen”

Luke sighed, placing both his hands on your shoulders to try and calm you down “I believe you”

“You do?”

He nodded with a soft smile.

“Yeah, this is the first time I heard you say my name so I know this is serious,” Luke said “Why is he trying to hurt you?”

You didn’t answer, how could you? You trusted Luke, but did you trust him enough? How in the world would you tell your fiance that you are in love with someone else and that your father wants to punish you for it, that this whole charade of lies was created for dangerous means, and that he might also be in danger?

After a while, Luke asked softly:

“Is it because you love another, don’t you?” You froze, eyes filled with fear as you looked at him “It’s hard to pretend not to love someone when you’re close to them. I could see it while you were dancing with him, because it was him, wasn’t it? The man who owns your heart?”

You lowered your head, eyes filling with tears as you whispered “Luke-”

“It’s okay, love” He reassured, caressing your face and cupping your cheeks so you would look at him “I knew from the start that you belonged to another, and tonight I recognized that look, that complicit smile you only find in those whose life complete yours in a way where you didn’t think it was possible. I have never seen you as happy as you were dancing with him. You truly love him, do you?”

“More than anything” You answered without a doubt.

“And he surely loves you. It was more than obvious from the way he couldn’t stop looking at you throughout the dance. He’s a lucky man, and he knows how to give himself entirely to you. I don’t think I have ever seen a man so in love before”

“You sure know a lot about love, Luke,” You said surprising him “You know just as much as a man who is or has been in love before”

He chuckled lightly “That’s because you’re not the only one with a heart owned by another, Princess”

Luke averted his gaze back to the castle, a nostalgic cloud covering his baby blue eyes.

“Is your love waiting for you at home?” You asked softly, not wanting to intrude.

He chuckled softly before his expression changed from dreamy, to worry, to sad, you pretended you didn’t notice how his eyes became glossy from the tears.

“He’s the only home I’ve ever known…”

Then, you understood. Luke was not looking at the castle; he was looking at the person guarding the entrance, commanded by his King.

Your heart filled with an indescribable joy as you took your hand and placed it on Luke’s cheek, softly wiping a tear that started to roll down.

“I guess we are both stuck in this, huh?” He laughed, looking at you in the way only a strong bond could describe.

“But you don’t have to be,” He said, “Your love, do you know where he is?”

You started to shake your head, but then you remembered something.

“I think I might have an idea”

“Go to him.” Luke encouraged, kissing your knuckles before letting go of your hand “Michael and I will cover this entrance, I’ll tell everyone who asks that we were together talking and walking through the gardens the whole night so no one gets suspicious”

You could almost cry of relief at his words. You jumped into his arms and placed a kiss on his cheek while muttering a small “Thank you” before you started running through the woods, knowing exactly where to go and hoping that he’ll be there.

*

“Calum!” You sighed with relief, finally feeling like you could breathe when you saw him in front of your tree.

You took your chances coming here, not knowing if he was going to be waiting here or if he was somehow captured by your father's orders.

On your way to your secret place, your heart could not stop racing, the countless tragic possibilities flooded your mind as you ran through the woods, not caring if some parts of your dress got ripped because of your careless moving.

But there he was, sitting in one of the roots that were visible from the surface. He was not wearing his mask as he fiddled with it between his fingers until the moment he saw you.

“Y/N!” He breathed, getting up from his improvised seat and running towards you, involving you in a tight embrace. Only then, wrapped in your arms you understood Luke’s words.

Only there you felt truly at home.

“I thought something happened to you” You cried into his chest as you felt his hand soothe you while caressing your back “My father…”

“I know,” He said, placing a small kiss on the top of your head “When he announced the ceremony I could see a couple of guards coming my way, I had no choice but run”

Your whole body shook in terror when he said that. Now you knew your father was planning on hurting Calum now that he knew who he was. Unless he’d always known…

“Hey, hey, hey,” He said when he felt you cry again “It’s okay, my love. I got away, didn’t I?”

“Now, but you know what he’s capable of doing, Cal. You saw what he did at the party! He moved the wedding closer because he knew we’ve been searching for ways to stop it. He knows who you are and if anything- if anything happens to you, I-”

“Nothing is going to happen to me, okay?” Calum stated, pulling you away from him just enough so he could see your face and cup your cheeks with his hands “I will not let anything happen to me or you, I promise. I will be there for you, Y/N, always”

You nodded but still felt a cloud of darkness surrounding you. You trusted Calum more than anyone, but this might be the first promise that he might not fulfill. Your father is a powerful man that reigned by inflicting fear into his people and respect by his equals basing himself with lies.

If he could turn your world upside down with just a couple of words… what would he do to Calum?

“How did you know I was here?” Calum asked, trying to lighten the mood when he noticed you spacing out in sorrow.

You chuckled, lowering your gaze to the floor “I had a hunch”

“Were you followed?”

“No, Luke and Michael stayed to watch the entrance and the surroundings” Calum looked at you puzzled “We can trust them, it’s okay. Luke doesn’t want to marry me either”

“What a fool-”

“He doesn’t want to marry me because, like me, he is in love with someone else,” You said with a smile that quickly disappeared with your next thought “And now we’ll both be trapped in a marriage where we’ll be forced to be away from the ones we truly love”

“Then don’t marry him,” Calum said in a breath.

You rolled your eyes “Is not that easy, Calum. You know that-”

“That a King’s promise may never be broken. But what if the King promised something that can’t be possible?”

His tone was questioning, almost as if he wasn’t sure of what he was saying either and he was just thinking at the top of his head.

“Love, what are you-?”

“What if you couldn’t marry the King because you’re already married?” He asked, more certain this time.

You were about to answer him with another question, trying to understand what he was trying to say. But he continued, trying to explain himself better.

“You know the law commands that no one should remarry while still being married to another partner. What if- what if we get married first? That way-”

“That way the King’s promise will be null” You finished for him “Because the bride he promised is a married woman who cannot go over the law… Calum, that’s genius but how-?”

“I thought about it for a while when I came over the statement that ruled that no law should cancel another”

You looked at him confused, but with a smile showing on your face “And you’re telling me this now?”

He looked nervous.

“I-I didn’t want to put that pressure on you. It is a huge risk, not to mention a lot of responsibility as well, and I didn’t want to pressure you into marrying me if you weren’t sure you wanted that. I thought we could find another way out before the ceremony, so I kept it a secret for some time. I admit I was afraid of how you might react”

You answered him with a tearful chuckle as you jumped into his arms and crashed your lips to his as you caught him by surprise.

It was impossible to deny the happiness you felt as he responded to the kiss as eagerly as you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

“If you thought for a second that I would ever say no to that, then you might not know who you’re asking for her hand in marriage,” You said, smiling against his lips, chasing them into another kiss as a complete feeling of euphoria came over you.

Calum smiled, wrapping his arms around the back of your thighs and picking you up as he spun you around, laughing along with you as your giggles could be heard from all around the woods, for you just made him the happiest man on earth.

“If we are going to do this,” He said as he put you down “Let me do this properly”

You felt your eyes filled with happy tears as you watched Calum get down on one knee in front of you. Smiling at you with bright brown eyes that shined like the stars from Orion above.

“Y/N,” He started “My love, my rose. God knows this is not the way I planned this; in my dreams we are sailing away to a new land, traveling the world as we share our dreams and make them come true before our eyes. In my dreams I had a ring to give you, a pretty speech prepared, and a thousand lights to illuminate the way you looked, bringing the start to shame.

But I have no ring, and the words that are coming out of my mouth come straight from my heart. But the moon does shine on you, my love and you’ve never looked so beautiful as you do.

I cannot offer much. I’m no royal nor do I own stacks of land that could be ever worthy of you, my love. I cannot offer you a house, I cannot offer you fancy dresses or expensive jewelry, I cannot give you the kind of life royalty deserves. But I can give you all my love as we made the world our home. Because all I need, Y/N, to live a happy life is for you to be by my side if you let me.

I knew I wanted to marry you since the moment I saw you standing in that pile of dirt when we were nothing more than children venturing in a world filled with adult problems. I knew I loved you then, even before I knew what love is. And, if you let me, it would be my honor to love you for the rest of my life. Will you marry me, my rose?”

You tearfully nodded, covering your mouth with your hands as you tried to prevent a sob from getting out.

“Yes,” You said softly before repeating it loudly “Yes!”

In an instant, you threw yourself into Calum’s arms, wrapping your arms around his neck as he held you by your waist, helping you straddle his lap, one leg at each side of his hips, as he pushed your skirt to the sides so you’d be closer and more comfortable.

You wasted no time in pressing your lips against his, letting your hands play with his hair as he rocked your bodies together, deepening the kiss as far as you’d let him.

A little moan escaped your mouth when you felt his tongue press against your bottom lip. Calum took this opportunity to capture every sound you made as you granted him more access, parting your lips slightly and letting him explore more of you as you got drunk with his touch.

“Say it again” He begged, his lips now leaving kisses along your jaw as your fingers tangled and tugged on his hair, making him groan against your skin.

“Yes,” You whispered breathlessly.

You felt your skin on fire every time his lips trailed along your jaw and neck, kissing it gently as you melted against him. It wasn’t something new, you’ve kissed like this before and stopped before it turned into something else, but there was something about tonight.

You didn’t know if it was the proposal, the adrenaline, or the simple need of being together now more than ever since your future is still uncertain. But every single kiss, every sound, every move… it just made you crave it even more.

“Calum…” You breathed, tugging his hair to bring him even closer to you.

He muffled a groan into your neck, letting the smell of your perfume intoxicate him as you moved your hips closer to him, “Love, don’t do that” He whispered, almost begging you to stop as he knocked his forehead with yours “You know that if this goes any further, I might not be able to stop”

You’ve been intimate before, only not like this. It wasn’t uncommon for you to lay next to each other, whether it was on our bed or in the clear spot next to the tree. You would explore your bodies with soft touches and lingering kisses that always felt like the start of something but that never lead to anything other than whispered confessions and soft makeout sessions.

The need was always there, you both felt it before, but this time you had no intention of stopping.

“Then don’t,” You said softly, looking into Calum’s eyes as he raised his eyebrows in shock.

“Y/N…”

“Don’t stop, Calum, please” You whined, moving your hips again to gain some kind of friction between the layers of fabric as you felt how his cock hardened in his pants “I want it. I want you”

Calum stopped your movements altogether, holding your hips with one hand as the other one cupped one side of your face, making you look at him when he asked.

“Y/N, are you sure about this?” His breath was heavy, but his eyes were determined as he gazed into yours “We don’t have to do anything if you’re not one hundred percent-”

You placed your fingers on the top of his lips to silence him.

“I was yours since the day we met.” You whispered, a soft smile illuminating your face “I was yours the day I told you I love you. I was yours when we danced tonight and I’ll be yours forever for the rest of my life. Make me your wife, Calum. Be mine and make me yours again”

Something shifted in Calum’s eyes at the sound of your words as lust settled all over them. He wasted no time in pulling you closer to him, capturing your lips in a much more heated kiss.

It was entirely different from whatever you’ve experienced before with him. This kiss was sloppy, a mixture of tongues and teeth as he bit your bottom lip. The sounds that came from both of you died in your throats as you desperately acted upon your desires.

You pulled apart for one minute as you took the top part of your dress, throwing it god knows where as you tried to untie the knots of your corset. Calum took it upon himself to start kissing your neck again, this time with more freedom to roam across your collarbone. “Let me,” He said softly after a while, letting his hands take over yours as they started to undo the knots one by one.

Once you were free, you felt Calum’s hands cup your breasts, massaging them as you moaned softly, still moving your hips with a more steady and fast rhythm against his groin looking for some sort of release.

“Y/N,” Calum moaned, taking his hands off your breast down to your hips, halting your movements once again “Lay down for me, my love” He whispered, kissing your earlobe as you felt goosebumps all over your body.

Calum took off his suit jacket, laying it on the floor so you’d be more comfortable. You sat back on your elbows as you watched him take off his shirt, leaving him with his chest exposed to you.

Your eyes widened at the sight of him shirtless on top of you. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but the context is different now that you can admire his well-defined abs under the moonlight. You couldn’t resist letting your fingers caress his chest with barely-there touches over his muscles and nipples, making him let out a breathy moan as soon as you did.

But before you could go any further, he grabbed you softly by the wrist.

“Not yet, Princess,” He said, lust laced in every word as he let your hand go to start working on getting you out of that skirt and underwear.

He worked quickly, leaving you completely bare in front of him. You felt his eyes on you and your first instinct was to cover yourself even though shame was the last thing in your mind right now. Despite that initial response, you felt safe with him, the safest you felt in years.

Calum smirked playfully, shaking his head as he grabbed both your hands in his and pinning them over your head “Don’t hide from me, my love” He said, lips hovering over yours but never touching them as he started kissing the spot under your ear, leaving you breathless in a second.

You closed your eyes and let yourself drift in pleasure as you felt Calum’s lips trail down to your breasts, kissing each one of them softly around the pebbled nipples, sucking and biting them as you felt your arousal grow with every new sensation.

Once he felt satisfied with the way you were moaning, he started kissing along your chest and down to your stomach, leaving a trail of fiery kisses until he stopped before reaching your core.

Calum let go of your hands which immediately flew to his hair when he started kissing the inside of your thighs, getting closer but not close enough to where you needed him most.

“Calum,” You moaned, feeling his breath over your entrance.

“Say it again,” He asked, kissing your right leg as his hands wandered over to your ass, lifting you up slightly and bringing you closer to him “Say yes, again”

“Yes.” You said in one breath.

“Again” He demanded softly, kissing you over your mound.

“Yes.”

“Again”

“Yes, oh...”

No sounds came out of your mouth as he placed his lips over your clit, kissing it softly at first before starting to lightly suck on it. You then felt him lick a long stripe up your center, making you shiver each time as he always ended up at your clit, gathering your arousal in his tongue and moaning at the taste, sending glorious vibrations up to your core. He smiles when he feels you tug on his hair with every breathy moaned you let out, letting him know that you were enjoying this as much as he was.

Soon, you felt his fingers trace along your folds up and down, stopping at your entrance a couple of times before he pushed the first finger inside, making you both moan at the feeling.

Then, a finger became two as Calum started to move them inside and out of your tight hole at a fast pace while his lips remained attached to your clit, licking and sucking over it until you reached your first climax of the night.

Calum licked you through your orgasm, lapping on your arousal until he heard you whine thanks to the oversensitivity. Then, he pulled himself up, kissing a trail from your stomach to your lips.

You were seeing stars behind your eyelids as you tasted yourself on his tongue, moaning as you felt his hard, clothed cock brush over your sensitive core.

“Calum,” You whimpered as he pulled away from his lips to let his head fall to your side, kissing your neck with zeal.

“Tell me what you want, my love” He whispered in your ear, making your whole body shiver under him as he kissed your cheeks tenderly “Tell me what you want and I’ll give you the world”

“You, only you”

He smiled, prompting himself onto his elbows to kiss your lips again.

“I’m yours”

It took no time for Calum to get rid of his pants and thrust into you, letting you adjust to the new feeling as he kissed the pain away while he started to thrust slowly into you. His hand cupped your face as he kissed you over and over again until you begged him to speed up the pace, letting the sting of pain become one of pleasure every time Calum moved his hips into you, hitting every spot with ease.

You became one big pile of tangled limbs and shared pleasure, moaning and groaning your feelings of ecstasy as you held each other as close as you could. One hand caressing your sides while you alternated between playing with his hair and dragging your fingers down his back, feeling every muscle work as you wrapped your legs around him, letting him deeper and deeper each time.

You got drunk with the sound of each other’s moans as you reached your climax. Calum swears he’s never heard a more beautiful sound than his name falling from your lips in total bliss as you clenched around his cock, making his thrusts slow down as he came with the taste of your name still on his lips.

"I love you," He said with a smile as wide as the sky, pulling you closer against his naked body "God, how I love you, my rose"

You kissed his lips softly, humming an "I love you" in between a content smile before saying:

"Calum?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Thank you for loving me"

You woke up sometime later, still wrapped around his arms as his jacket covered you both from the cold night. You let out a breath of relief as you realized that the moon was still high up in the sky, meaning that you still had a few hours before having to go back to the castle.

Calum slept peacefully next to you, holding you close as he let his chin rest above your head. You kissed his Adam's apple and softly giggled when he pulled you closer to his chest, you knew that you would always be safely wrapped around his arms and there was no other place you’d rather stay than with him.

It was almost incredible to believe that by tomorrow night you’d finally become husband and wife and that this will be your life forevermore.

No more castles, no more parties, no more dangers nor royalty duties. You will be together, finally be free.

.

.

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @hoodhoran @flaneurcth @notinthesameguey @bubblegum18 @irwin-fletcher-ash @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @1980holland @wiiildflowerrr @hoplessromantic727 @fivesecondsofonedirection @another-lonely-heart @aabc5sauce @dudethisiswhyyoudonthavefriends @major5sosstan @myloverboyash @nicebasscalum @calumspupils @secretsicanthideanymore @the-ghost-of-ashley @alltimesos @girlwhosimps @wontlastimokwiththat @yeah-and69 @fckingpernico @multistann @averageantichrist @a-darneddarling @tpwkcth @f-mu @kindahumanbutalsoinsane @lemonswizzle

#calum hood #5 seconds of summer #5sos #calum hood imagine #calum hood fanfiction #calum hood fanfic #calum hood smut #suchalonelysunflower #where the roses bloom #calum fic #5sos calum #calum 5 seconds of summer #calum 5SOS #5sos fanfiction #5sos writing #5sos fic #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer fanfiction #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer calum #ashton irwin #luke hemmings #michael clifford #calum x you #calum smut #calum hood au #calum x reader #princess!reader #5sos au #calum thomas hood

[willgrahymn]

Two Love

I’m not gonna lie, this is probably some of the gayest shit I’ve ever written.

Summary: In the silence of the night, it feels like there's nothing but them. Loving oneself is not an easy task, and loving another takes work. If we can't love ourselves now though, we can at least love each other. Maybe then we will realize our own worth. Virgil and Roman know this well.

Word count: 2019

Tags: romantic prinxiety, (domestic) fluff, light angst, human au, living together, non-sexual intimacy, cuddling, communication, and marriage proposal ✨

As always, I’ll reblog with a link to this on ao3 :]!

-

“I wish you knew how lovable you are,” Virgil whispered into the silence.

Roman didn’t respond, biting his lower lip and not once opening his eyes. Virgil frowned, lightly tracing the tattoos on the other man’s chest, stopping to place his palm against the beating of his heart.

The room was quiet besides the sound of the heat coming through the vents and the occasional car passing by outside. Virgil sighed, laying his head against his love. He was warm, too, and he wished he never had to get out of bed again. It wasn’t like the way he wished during a depressive episode though. This was different; it was cozier, and more like home. He closed his eyes as he felt a hand begin to play with the hair at the base of his neck, and made a mental note to trim it later.

“I love you,” he mumbled, his lips ghosting against his boyfriend’s skin. He thought watching the rise and fall of his stomach, breathing in and out, was what made him want to say it.

“I know you do,” Roman responded, and Virgil could hear the tired smile in his voice, “I love you too. You’re perfect.”

“I’m anything but.”

“Then you’re perfect for me.”

Virgil decided he was happy to settle for that.

Roman continued to play with the dark strands before kissing the long magenta bangs that normally covered his boyfriend’s eyes. And he smiled because his hair smelled like the same raspberry-scented shampoo that he washed his hair with not long ago. If there was anything Roman believed he could do well, it was making his boyfriend feel cared for. He deserved it, and the way Virgil always leaned into his touch like a cat receiving ear scratches whenever he rubbed the shampoo into his scalp was something he simply couldn’t pass up when the opportunity arose.

He was beautiful now in Roman’s arms, and he would be beautiful when he woke up in the morning with his hair messed up going every which way. He would be beautiful when black makeup stained his face in tear tracks and he asked Roman if they could go home after a failed night out. There would not be a time when he was not beautiful, because he never gave Roman a reason to see him as anything less than that. He was a work of art. Frayed at the edges, sure, but he remained invaluable nonetheless.

Blinking slowly, Roman watched as his love shifted to meet his gaze. Dark eyes shining in the moonlight that seeped in through their window blinds. They were as gorgeous as the rest of him, he thought.

“What is it, my Night Light?”

“Oh, nothing,” he smirked, “I was just admiring.”

Roman rolled his eyes, a mix of fondness and instinctual doubt settling in his gut. “You see me every day, you’ll tire of me eventually.” He tried.

“We already went through the phase of being sick of each other when we first met, you’re not getting rid of me now.” Virgil teased, and before Roman could think of something else to say to distract from his statement, he started to speak again softer this time. “I meant what I said earlier, about how you’re so much more lovable than you know. I care about you.”

Virgil took a deep breath. He didn’t consider himself good at this sort of thing, but the weight of Roman’s fingers lacing between his own and pulling him closer was reassurance enough.

“I love you, Roman, and I… I just hope that one day, you’ll fall in love with yourself in the same way I did. You deserve to feel like you’re worth it.”

Roman stared at him, his mouth barely open as he replayed the words in his head. He knew Virgil, knew that he was always more on the pessimistic side, and didn’t try to get his hopes up about things to come. Still, he hoped for him. A hand rested against his cheek, thumb brushing lightly against his lips. Virgil smiled, and his heart felt full.

“Thank you,” he said. “I hope that one day you’ll wake up and face yourself in the mirror, and be able to value yourself as much as I do. It’s only fair.”

He took his partner’s hand, kissing his palm. Even in the darkness of their room, he could still see Virgil’s eyes go wide before hiding his face against his chest. It was cute, but he could tease him about that later. For now, though, he just felt lucky that he was allowed to see him like this. No walls up, and no fake dark persona to make sure others would leave him alone. He was just honest, authentic Virgil, and that was all that Roman wanted.

“I could spend a thousand lifetimes with you and it still wouldn’t be enough.” He admitted. “I would relive all the bad days where we didn’t get along, all the bad days where we doubted ourselves, as long as I knew it would bring me back here just like this with you.”

Virgil stared at him, curious and adoring. “You’re a madman.”

“Nothing compared to my brother,” Roman laughed, “but I guess you might be right. If I didn’t think straight before I certainly don’t now.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, a fond smile on his lips. He pulled himself up, face to face with the hopelessly romantic man he’d fallen in love with, dark eyes staring through thick lashes.

With some hesitance, Roman asked. “Have you ever thought about wanting to get married someday? It’s okay if not, I know right now might not be the perfect time to bring it up, but… it came to mind, I guess.”

He held his breath as Virgil considered. He didn’t want to be pushy. All he knew was that if asked, he would accept that commitment, and not dream of another. Because Virgil wasn’t like any of the partners he had known before. He was gentle and rough, sweet and sour, and Roman loved his contradictions. He loved to be loved in a way he could understand.

“Maybe not right now,” Virgil finally replied, “but I’d be happy with that. With you.”

Roman nodded, kissing him on the nose and appreciating the way Virgil’s eyes crinkled when he did.

“That’s okay,” he smiled, and it was the truth. “I just need you to know that if you’re ever ready for that, I’ll be here. I’d love to call you my husband if you’d let me. One of us can surprise the other with a proposal someday, but before that, I want us both to be ready.”

Virgil blinked, slow like a cat. Maybe these kinds of conversations were better left until morning.

“Thank you. I’d uh, I’d like that though, eventually.”

Smiling, Roman closed his eyes. He always dreamed of grand fairytale weddings and proposals, but this, this was good too. Fitting for them. It wasn’t Disney, but they made it work.

Pulling the blanket further over them, Virgil kissed his prince’s cheek only to be pulled into a proper one right after. Soft and slow, Virgil felt Roman’s lips quirk as his hand grazed the rose tattooed at his hip.

Then, he asked. “Of all the people you could choose to love, why me?”

“I think you’re the only one who really gets me,” Roman said, nuzzling into his lover’s shoulder and breathing in the faint scent of lavender. “You smell good.”

Virgil laughed silently, and Roman felt his body shake against him. He could feel that same butterfly-like sensation in his stomach from when he first started thinking of him as more than a friend.

“I think you’re the only person who can understand me though… not in an edgy teenager way, but like with my issues. People see me, but not in the way you do. You’re the one who drove halfway across town to drag my sorry ass out of bed after my ex dumped me and helped me realize it was a good thing. You helped me get out of my comfort zone and experiment with makeup too. I guess in a way, you make me better. And if you can love me with all the flaws that I have, then I can love yours too.”

“Oh,” he whispered, “I didn’t know that.”

“Well, you deserve to. You may be as dark and gloomy as a live-action Batman movie, but you still make my world a little brighter.”

“You’re a dork.”

Roman gasped, pulling back and holding his hand to his chest as if he had just touched a hot stove. “You’re so mean!”

Virgil shrugged, and Roman could practically hear the unspoken ‘it’s what I do best.’ It seemed that in all the years he had known him, he figured out how to decipher the mystery of a man hidden under all that black and purple emo attire.

It was 12:27 AM, at least that’s what the clock sitting on their bedside table told them. Virgil was used to being up late, insomnia and all, but since they started living together Roman insisted he come to bed at the same time every night. He appreciated it though. He liked getting ready for bed together and the weight of Roman falling asleep against him. He didn’t want to admit it, but it helped.

The room was nearly silent, the heat turned off long ago. The quiet sounds of rustling pillows and blankets were the only thing to be heard. Warm breaths lingered on Roman’s skin making his hair rise as soft lips met his jaw. He wondered if Virgil remembered watching him scrub violet lipstick off his face in the theater's dressing room while he giggled like a kid at a carnival. If he asked, Virgil would have told him there was a reason he preferred darker shades.

“Do you think we’ll have kids someday?”

“Don’t push it, Princey. You haven’t even decided if you want to adopt a cat or a dog yet.”

“Still! Could you imagine us as dads? We could have Disney movie nights. We already do that, I know, but we could do it with our kid. I’m perfectly fine with just being pet parents, but could you imagine?”

“I can, actually, and now I’m going to be worrying about our non-existent child and their not yet existing future until I fall asleep.”

Roman glared at him before rolling onto his side. All too familiar with the silly things he did, Virgil waited in anticipation and was pleasantly surprised when Roman finally lunged back over, attacking him with a kiss and laughing against his lips.

“You said not yet existing,” he grinned, “which implies that there will be one eventually.”

Virgil sighed, running his fingers through his partner’s hair. “You’re not getting me to agree to adopt a child in the middle of the night, Ro.”

Humming, Roman nodded an ‘okay’ and let the subject go for now. Virgil didn’t even think before he spoke again.

“I want a future with you, Roman, you know that.”

The softness in his eyes was one Virgil would do anything to protect, and he smiled as Roman snuggled into his chest. He loved him, and with the sound of his heart beating in his ears he was sure that he would do anything it took to keep him safe.

“Get some rest, Sleepy Beauty,” he whispered. “You deserve it.”

In the morning, they would both wake up with their legs intertwined, knowing that they could stay in bed all morning because neither had work that day. Roman would get up first, and Virgil would admire him as he stretched. When Virgil finally did pull himself out of bed and found his future-husband in the kitchen making french toast, he would slump against his back and leave a kiss between his shoulders.

And maybe life was never going to be easy, but that could be okay. Step by step, stroke by stroke, they’d make it through as each other’s sword and shield.

#Sanders Sides #Sanders Sides fic #Roman Sanders #Virgil Sanders #prinxiety #Virgil's Volumes #my god these bitches gay... #reblogs and comments/tags are always hella appreciated but u didnt hear that from me #I FORGOT TO PUT THIS AS ROMANTIC PRINXIETY WHEN I FIRST POSTED THIS OOPS <3 #I guess it's a given but shh

[yanderecandystore]

How ye are having a good day v3v, I feel like imma you a bunch of oc ideas but ummm you got any siren/shark mermen ocs with a s/o who is a deep sea diver?😳 - Cold Anon

Boo, I'm so sorry for taking this long ;-; shit has been going down at the speed of light, so I haven't been able to focus all that well.

I have written your request a couple of times, but it always felt so… Awful? Like- It didn't read as proper oneshot so I kept re doing it over and over again.

I have two posts about mermaids, yet not exactly an official character. I'm going to make this one without an official one for now as well because I can't really think straight- Sorry Cold.

Shout out to @aka-thethirstyone for giving me ideas and helping me build this up-

TW/Tags: depressed/suicidal reader // failed suicide attempt (drowning/hydrogen poisoning although not very accurate) // victim blaming mentality (coming from the reader) // angst sad boi hours with some softness in the end //

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Deep blue sea [Yandere!Shark Merman x Reader - Short Fanfiction]:

You've put yourself in this situation, and even if the consequences may seem unfair, you should know better than to whine about it, you should know about now you don't have the right to complain about something you brought to yourself.

That's what you kept telling yourself, everyday, every hour of each day, and it seems to be a prominent thought even in a moment like this.

Every time you go underwater, you can't help but feel a deep connection with the submerged world around you. So much color and wild beauty that if makes you feel like you might as well not be on Earth anymore, it makes you feel like you're on a different planet.

Like you're in a different realm with wild creatures that hold both beauty and death in them, as marine creatures can be often quite unforgiving to each other, or unwanted visitors.

The alien-like ambience you feel while diving it's probably the most comforting thing in your job, if not the only comforting thing about your whole life.

Just like an old sailor, at sea you feel at home, and at home, you don't feel the same. But in your case, you feel like nothing whenever you come back to your house, and a "home" it's a place you have never really been in, so how can you describe the feeling you get when you're diving deep underwater, as something you never understood?

Who knows, maybe it was just a feeling you got, after all, all your team thinks you're too emotional over the ocean. Some would call you an insane person to be so attached to a body of water.

Yet it doesn't matter what the truth to your case may be, because it's whenever the embrace of said body of water fills your senses it's when you truly feel alive again.

That comforting embrace, as if the immense ocean was truly hugging you and relaxing your muscles.

That comforting, deadly embrace was what felt like home to you. And despite everyone else's warnings, you felt like it was your time to be one with the ocean.

It has been a long, unfortunate ride for you. And as I said before, it's not like you were planning on going back home today.

No, you refused to keep feeling empty at your empty house, going by every single day in your empty life-

It was time for a change. It was time for something different. Some peace for once, something that you wouldn't regret.

Or well, wouldn't be capable of regretting anyway.

Your plan was almost perfect, right? I mean, you were certain your diving team wouldn't notice you suddenly going numb, or even caring enough to help you out. So it was essentially perfect, right?

Yeah, it was unfortunate yet perfect. It brought you despair to think of how perfect your plan was.

But since when was your life easy, [Y/N]? Since when did your plans went your way, you don't really remember having luck-

Even at your final moments, you aren't giving peace that you waited for.

When you dived deep without the proper preparation and your oxygen tank having barely enough to half an hour, you let your body get numb by the water pressure and the narcosis that happened as soon as you dived too deep for your fragile body to handle.

Funny how something that can bring life can also take it away, water surely is probably the most powerful element on Earth. Yet, even if it was sentient, you couldn't be able to beg for the ocean water to fully take you away from this pain, from this emptiness you feel.

The ocean it's as beautiful as it is merciless, so it shouldn't have been a surprise that it would take back your hopes away from you.

While you were unconscious and awaiting your own end, you couldn't possibly be aware of the creature picking your numb floating body.

You couldn't possibly have seen the rest of your diving group looking for you, or the predator carefully observing them, making sure they couldn't see you or him.

When you wake up, you'll feel not only confused after finding out your plan has gone wrong but also finding the immense creature laying on top of you like a pillow.

You didn't feel like fighting, or understanding what the hell was going on, you just noticed that the man on top of you clearly wasn't human and really, really heavy.

Yet you weren't completely awake, you weren't completely fine passing through that whole event, hell, you didn't even realize you weren't inside the ocean anymore, or that you are laying on a completely unfamiliar beach with a creature who is essentially a myth on top of you.

He was sleeping. Dreaming.

Growling. Someone was having a bad dream.

Or maybe a good dream? Throughout your expeditions, you have never really interacted with sharks, only looked at them from afar, so you don't know how to read their behavior.

In a moment of high due to your sudden awakening, you pet his head, getting through his white and grey hair despite the fact that he shouldn't have any hair in his body.

But again, you didn't care, you didn't care for anything, you just wanted to look at the sky and drift once again into your dreamland.

Yet this gentle yet heavy and firm hold he got you on was starting to bother you, but not because you were not enjoying it, no, it was totally the opposite.

You... Missed this. You missed this now that you remember the last time you received any form of comfort from another living being. Even if this terrifying thing could possibly eat you, you felt somehow comfortable being hugged and used as a comfort pillow to someone so big and muscular.

You felt odd, like you were worth something for once.

As if this big predator of the vast seas needed some sort of comfort, and for some reason it chose you to help with his little self-conscious problem.

It felt great knowing that even the someone that is so menacing feels scared or sad from time to time. It makes you feel… Strong, in a sense.

If he can feel vulnerable and openly show it, then I can too, right?

Sigh…. Maybe you were overthinking it, like everything else you ever did. Maybe you should just sleep and see what happens when you wake up-

If. You wake up.

And while you were thinking the worst of yourself and of your captor, the man himself was trying his best to hold the joy, the sorrow, and the pain he felt when seeing you losing your strength while diving.

It doesn't matter if he says anything, what can he say? Nothing he could possibly think about telling you, you'll be able to understand back. The language barrier was just like that. Massive, towering, unbreakable.

It would take a long time to understand one another, considering how you both spoke in different ways. Generally speaking, even your minds seem to be in different places.

You thought about things that he would never be able to comprehend, your self hatred is something he'll never agree with.

Your pain, your sorrow, it doesn't make sense to him, cause up until this day, he only saw the [Y/N] that had fun swimming with the fish and playing with them. Not the one that lives unhappy up on the surface.

How can someone that brings him so much joy can think so little of themselves, is something he'll never understand.

He doesn't know exactly what your true plans are, since in his head, you do these things by accident.

You've been trying this for a couple of times now, and he has either not understood the meaning of it or tried to hide the fact from his own worrying heart.

You did something that would have been pretty stupid especially considering that you were all alone, what if he wasn't there observing you? Would you just- Stop moving completely?

The thought of seeing the cute diver he grown attached to going away from this plan of existence is cruel if not straight up torture.

He just found the one who is bound to be with him for all his life, how else would he feel after discovering something so terrible? The only thing that anyone would feel in his place is fear, is rage, is agony-

Clearly something was going wrong up there, something that made you just-

Decide to float through the ocean forever.

But- But this is oddly the perfect solution to his own problems, now he has a reason and a way to get you to be with him forever now, right?

You seemed to have given up on the human world you live in, and he really wants to be with you so you two can easily be together now. It's an unfortunate event yet also the only opportunity that he has seen as useful to his cause.

Of course, he doesn't understand you, and you surely don't understand him yet, but that is fine because as soon as he wakes up, he'll make sure to do everything in his power to make you feel like the happiest mate of all.

He only hopes you didn't see him sleeping on top of you as a lazy thing for a husband to do, don't worry about him being a bad dad though, he'll make sure to show off everything he has in store for you.

Even if it takes a while to get you accustomed to his mannerism and your now little private island, he knows you're going to love it here with him as your company.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #sheep stuff #sheep's stuff #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere oneshot #yandere short fanfiction #short fanfic #yandere mermaid #yandere merman #yandere merman x reader #yandere shark mermaid #yandere shark merman #yandere shark merman x reader #special delivery request #special delivery short fanfiction

[mallowstep]

📖 (foxstride)

ask thingy

@foxstride

okay i mentioned this to you on discord but i didn't go into it but. okay. okay. the au where mistyfoot is hawk, moth, and tadpole's mother. this has been just. it's been chewing on my brain and i don't know when i'm going to write it so since u gave me a blank canvas, i'm going to ramble about it for as long as i can.

cw: implied/referenced sexual assault; brief suicidal ideation; standard tigerclan content (abuse, child abuse, starvation, dehumanization, etc.); referenced force feeding

okay oh my gosh okay. this has. so obviously i've been thinking about riverclan lately. a lot. it's rcam. anyway. i don't want. i'm trying to get to the point and not loop around aimlessly for two hundred words but okay but okay. anyway.

i've been thinking of all the different ways i can deeply traumatize misty, storm, and feather. and maybe stone. maybe i'll let stone live at some point. that'd be fun.

right so i've been thinking of that and my ideas are all over the place. i'm going to let primrosepaw live at some point. at one point i'm going to have stormpaw, and maybe primrosepaw or reedpaw (and...what's the other one? is it perchpaw or pikepaw? whatever) the point is i'll have some collection of stormpaw and some or all of mistyfoot's kits escape but not misty and feather so we can do survivor's guilt and.

anyway so i was writing the excerpt for the primrosepaw is definitely there au (it's kind of not Tethered because most of these aren't mutually incompatible like that au could be any of the others), and tigerstar has that dialogue about kits yeah?

so when i was writing it, i was thinking about just. he's trying to dehumanize all of them, right? that's his goal with that line. he's separating mistyfoot from her kits, trying to erase the meaning of their relationships. that's like. that's what i was considering when i was writing it.

buuuuuuut. y'know. my brain is chewing on it. and it just. hm. Hm. what if. what If tadpole, moth, and hawk were misty and tiger kits. hm. hmm. hm.

and so i am just instantly. very on board with this. there's so much potential.

so i Think the point of canon divergence is the rescue attempt. i haven't decided if stormpaw is successfully rescued or not. featherpaw doesn't for reasons i'm circling around to, but stormpaw may or may not. it certainly Matters in a broad sense but i haven't made up my mind, and i doubt i'm going to write Multiple aus about this. i mean i might u never know but it'd b like writing an alternate stolag: i mean i suppose i Could but it would feel weird.

okay almost burnt my dinner i said i'm very this has just been slowly rotting my brain out. i like Angst and it's been a while since i've written any.

okay there was fmtws but really that got me started. i'm not a fluff person. and y'all know that by now.

so Back On Topic. so Anyway after the rescue attempt fails/partially fails, tigerstar takes his anger out at the apprentices being Alive on featherpaw and she gets to. uh. help tigerclan practice fighting.

"Let me see her," Mudfur hissed. "No," Tigerstar said. "I've told you." Mudfur growled. Featherpaw dragged herself to her feet, and Mistyfoot glanced back at her. They would leave they would leave they would leave and then she could lie down again and try not to think. "You're not my leader," Mudfur said, and Featherpaw winced. Mistyfoot could see what was going on, but she was sitting still as a stone. Mudfur pressed into their — Mudfur pressed in, laying a wrapped bundle at Mistyfoot's feet. "Let me—" "No," Mistyfoot said. "Just go." Mudfur dipped his head. Tigerstar's steps moved away from them, but the shouts and arguments surrounding Mudfur were just buzzing noise in Featherpaw's head. She made out, "She's going to die," and she thought, that wouldn't be the worst thing.

thank You featherpaw. you will suffer for the au as a whole. anyway this takes place...i'm not Quite sure but mistyfoot does have a reason for not letting mudfur in. and that reason is she is in Denial about being pregnant.

if mudfur comes in he'll know (i have not forgotten that cats can smell unlike the erins), and mistyfoot is acting in denial. altho she rationalizes it to herself as being for mudfur's protection: runningnose is a medicine cat too, and so tigerstar could off mudfur without much effort.

(also i tend to mix up mudfur and mudclaw sometimes understand i am talking about the riverclan medicine cat, not the windclan deputy. i just mistype them sometimes.)

anyway so she has a legitimate reason (mudfur's continual survival, which is better for her and featherpaw longterm), and she does not want mudfur to know.

yeah.

all in all, this happens before the great battle. mistyfoot fights in it (again, denial), featherpaw and stormpaw are reunited (yes i think i made up my mind), (wait maybe stonefur lives too, and then both pairs of siblings reconnect, and stonefur is like "oh Shit" and. okay yes. maybe. i don't know.)

(there's a Lot. ohh maybe. wait best of both worlds okay. mistyfoot Thinks stonefur is dead. but stonefur doesn't get a proper burial but at the same time riverclan is Not going to go for their deputy on bonepile and even if they do go for it, they're not going to stripe his bones nor are they going to let a Physical Cat Corpse rot in camp. so when firestar and greystripe rescue stormpaw, stormpaw Insists they go back for his body, and then they realize he's Alive but obviously mistyfoot doesn't know.)

(there then i get the Best of both worlds. and stonefur and feathertail are in the Chronic Pain club.)

(also the thing w/ fighting is also what happens in "someday when the world is much brighter". not that Particular scene or in that Particular way, but it does happen. i mean almost exactly in that particular way. but that scene is from a different fic.)

anyway okay moving on i did add too much chili powder to my dinner but that's fine i'm still not over when someone refused to give me more harissa because "it's spicy" like yes i know i guarantee my mom makes it spicier.

back on topic sorry. i've been writing this as i do other things bc i have so much to say about this and i don't want to wait for tomorrow to share this because it's been just Rotting away my brain.

anyway so siblings reunite. it's...terse. it's complicated.

there's some parallels going on right? like because both featherpaw and stormpaw are basically in the mindset of looking after their mentors (which mistyfoot and stonefur feel Terrible about), everyone has survivor's guilt (i don't know what to call like, survivor's guilt when it's not actually survivor's guilt so if someone has a correct word please let me know) except for Maybe featherpaw.

featherpaw might be the Only one here who doesn't have survivor's guilt. i don't really want to explore the one way she could end up with it. that's past my comfort level at the moment.

but stormpaw and mistyfoot are the most physically healthy, and stormpaw and stonefur escaped.

stormpaw: i have not been hurt by this in any way

everyone around stormpaw: you have definitely been hurt by this

stormpaw: i have not been hurt by this in any way

stormpaw and featherpaw become warriors, leopardstar makes mistyfoot deputy (because stonefur is still recovering and also no longer wants the position. mistyfoot doesn't either but she's in denial and she doesn't want anyone else to have it. mistyfoot is visibly pregnant and still kind of in denial at this point. like it's been at least a moon and she is refusing to talk about it.)

right so i think stormpaw's name is going to be stormheart because i don't know it was always weird to me that stormfur and stonefur have the same suffix. like given Everything that's going on it feels weird to me. ig it'd actually be less weird in this, given that stonefur is still alive, but do you know How Close stonefur and stormfur are. they're one consonant cluster off. they're One consonant cluster off.

so leopardstar names him stormheart. feathertail can keep her name because it's pretty.

mistyfoot is a moon away from kitting. she refuses to talk about it. to anyone. whatsoever.

feathertail and stonefur decide to stage an intervention.

(they leave stormheart out not because he's not part of the found family, but because mistyfoot literally will not tolerate a single word about this. like a single word. like she will growl at you if you look at her stomach for too long.

so given the fairly high odds that mistyfoot gets violent, they keep stormheart out of it. she's the least likely to attack stonefur and feathertail.

stormheart finds out about this later and is like "do you guys realize if this went south you had absolutely 0 control over the situation. like what are you guys going to do. you incapable of doing anything to stop her if something goes wrong."

feathertail is like "yes. that's the point."

feathertail is both kind of right and also very internally messed up from being used for "training" when she wasn't allowed to fight back. feathertail also hates if you call her by just her prefix. she does not tell anyone this. misty is aware of this, and she tells stone and storm, and riverclan does eventually figure it out. plus it's not like feathertail is close enough to anyone else for them to call her "feather".

okay i'm getting off topic sorry i've been working on a tpb thing for swtwimb, and the one scene i have is cats making fun of her for not fighting back (again she is not allowed to they might kill her if she does), so they call her "featherkit" and that eventually gets brought down to feather and i'm rambling anyway On topic again.)

so stonefur and feathertail are like. "mistyfoot you are like. a half moon away from kitting. it is impairing your ability to do warrior duties. you need to like. acknowledge this."

anyway after a very terse conversation. after a veeery terse conversation, where mistyfoot is like. very close to just absolutely abandoning riverclan. they get her to admit that yes she is pregnant and yes she needs to stop doing warrior duties for the moment.

she wasn't exactly Healthy when she was pregnant because even tho tigerstar made a Point of making her like. eat enough to be healthy and also not violently attacking her. she had still been starved for...idk long enough for her ribs to show. i'm not sure what the exact timeline on this is yet.

also then After Tigerclan she did not eat as much as she should have because (a) denial and (b) she had been forcefed and so now she's. not doing that.

oh wow i've written long enough for my grammar checker to turn off again. that hasn't happened in ages.

all bets are off from here on out re grammar and spelling.

okay so mistyfoot isn't going to move into the nursery. i believe mosspelt has had a litter of 3 kits, or will have one as we see in asir, but mistyfoot isn't. she's not moving into it. stone, misty, storm, and feathertail share a den. no one else is allowed into it for Any Reason.

so anyway, they expand the den. riverclan as a whole might? i'm not sure who's good at weaving bc i don't have headcanons for this time period. probably not feathertail, but possibly stonefur. hm. anyway, they expand the den, mistyfoot will raise the kits in this den, everyone is on board with this.

mostly because it's this or mistyfoot like. runs away. which obviously no one wants. riverclan is on the side of...the four? riverclan is on the side of the four. even if they're not like, even though the four don't trust them, feathertail and misty especially (stone and storm tolerate it much better). but even tho things are complicated, riverclan is certainly going to do actions. they're certainly going to try to demonstrate their support.

okay so mistyfoot gives birth to her kits, and she is. not feeling good. about it. she's feeling terrible about it actually. she's feeling terrible about things. she doesn't want to name them.

usuuually in this situation, after the queens (collective) decided its in the best interest of the kits to be raised by someone other than their birth mother, the kits would be given to another queen.

but see. feathertail, stonefur, and stormheart are All attatched to these kits. deeply attatched to them. and mistyfoot is not willing to give them up either.

so mistyfoot isn't willing to give them up to another riverclan queen, and feathertail, stone, and storm all Want to raise them, and also don't want to give them to another queen.

the queens confer with mudfur that it is absolutely the worst possible thing they could do to forcibly remove the kits from mistyfoot. like that is the Worst option. they'd be lucky to get the kits alive, feathertail and mistyfoot are likely to abandon riverclan, and if misty and feathertail abandon riverclan, stone and storm will follow.

they're stuck in a standstill for a while. the four eventually do name them hawkkit, mothkit, and tadpolekit. the kits are about a moon old and ready to be weaned. mistyfoot is still extremely tense about the affair, but she's willing to part with them. she's able to recognize that's in the best interest of the kits, mosspelt's litter is about the same age, moving them into the nursery is going to give them a more normal upbringing, everyone is on the same page.

feathertail, who's having a lot of self worth issues, decides that moving into the nursery is her best bet for clan usefulness (which (a) feathertail you cannot keep up with kits and (b) the whole Place she's in is bad to begin with), moves in with them.

the kits decide feathertail is their mother now (they're old enough to understand that she didn't give birth to them, altho i haven't decided if they remember misty as their mother and if they're told any information re their birth parents depends exactly What kind of angst i want to write), and feathertail is. okay with this.

unlike asir, she's not blindsided with the tigerstar-is-their-father reveal, so she does have some issues with hawkkit reminding her of tigerstar, he's not really her Big Bad Trauma Nightmares. she has way more issues with the riverclan warriors directly involved in her abuse.

anyway, i don't know what happens tnp era stuff. i haven't gotten that far yet. maybe this will be another au where hawk and/or moth is a prophecy cat. i'm not sure. i haven't gotten farther than this.

but here you go i started writing this like an hour and a half ago and while i did stop to eat, i also just finally put everything i have for this au on one page and i hope and pray that will stave off the brainrot until i have a chance to actually write it.

#long #like 2.5k words of me just Talking #but this has just been consuming my brain holy shit #thanks for giving me unrestrained access to just talk about it #also like for anyone interested in this ask game #i'm not going to give you something this dark #unless you ask off anon and i know you're okay with that #i already mentioned this to fox #usually i don't talk about anything above pg-13 on tumblr but this has been literally rotting my brain away #i have never meant brain rot so literally #ask #ask game #mine #txt

[thrillridesz]

love hotline ▫ younghoon

➳ pairing: younghoon x reader ➳ genre: fluff, slight angst ➳ word count: 4.2k ➳ requested?: no

a/n: this is written as a birthday special for tbz’s one and only bread boy >< i’ve made this a little different from how I usually write my fics so I guess I’m experimenting? do let me know what you guys think of this writing style ^^

also this is so late omfg and his bday is almost over but here goes!

edit: successfully edited!

Love Hotline! This is y/n, how can I help you?

Hello?

Hi, is there anything I can help you with?

Um, yes. Is this the number to call to sign up?

Yes, it is! Are you looking to sign up for a membership?

Yes.

Great! Could I get your name and age?

There was a hesitant pause on the other end before the guy spoke up again.

My name is Kim Younghoon, 23 this year.

Ah ok, awesome. I’ll just need your number now so I can send you a link to our online form to fill up or do you want us to use this number you’re currently using? We’ll try to get in touch with you with your match within 3 days!

3 days? That quick?

Yes! We try to be as efficient as possible to ensure client satisfaction.

Ah… I see. You can just use this number that I’m calling with.

Alright! Give me a moment.

Ok.

I’ve just sent the link, did you receive it?

...Yes. Yes, I have.

Great, do you have any other questions?

No. Not at the moment, no.

Alright so I’ll end the call here? If you have any other questions, you can feel free to call again.

Ok. Bye.

Goodbye!

Hello?

Hello! This is y/n again from Love Hotline, I’m here to inquire about the online form you’ve yet to submit? Do you wish to withdraw your application?

Oh… Um… No, I’m just thinking about it.

Hmm, why’s that?

 …. I’ve never dabbled in the online dating scene before. I’m just a little nervous and apprehensive about the whole thing I guess.

Ah! That’s completely understandable. All I can say is, it’s always worth a shot. No pressure at all in applying. If you’re ultimately not comfortable with it, you can always drop us another call and we’ll cancel it for you.

Really? You’d do that?

Of course.

I…. Ok, thank you. I’ll try to come to a decision by tonight.

That’s completely fine. Thank you so much! Have a lovely day ahead.

H-Hello?

Hello, this is y/n from Love Hotline. Is this a bad time?

*muffled sounds*

Um no, it isn’t. Sorry, I just woke up.

Oh! I’m really sorry, did I disturb you?

N...No, you didn’t. Don’t worry about it.

Um, ok.

A short moment of silence.

Is there a reason why you’re calling?

Oh, yes! There is, I’m sorry I was just a tad distracted.

You don’t have to apologise but go on anyways.

Right… Based on the information and preferences you have indicated on your form, I think we’ve found a few good matches for you!

Is that so? Tell me about them.

Ok, our first match’s name is Yeh Shuhua and she is 20 this year. She is also a first year criminal law student! Some of her hobbies include acting and singing.

Criminal law student?

There was a hint of surprise and awe in Younghoon’s voice.

Yup! Pretty cool, no?

I suppose so…

Don’t make up your mind just yet! I’ve got two other matches! Next up, we have Park Sooyoung who also goes by Joy. She’s a 23 year old florist who works for her family’s flower shop business. She has also mentioned that one of her dreams would be to travel all over the world.

Oh, that’s interesting… Does that mean flowers won’t work on Valentine’s anymore?

There was soft laughter from the other end of the line at his comment.

Maybe? Is that going to be a setback?

... I don’t know. Probably.

You’re funny, Mr Kim.

Please just call me Younghoon. Mr Kim makes me feel old.

Ah, alright then! You can just call me y/n then.

Sure.

Are you ready for your third match?

Yeah, go off.

Ok, so last but not least… Your third match is Jang Yeeun. 22 and a current freelance graphic designer. She claims to be vegetarian but doesn’t mind if her partner isn’t one.

Vegetarian? That’s a commitment I don’t think I could ever make.  

Same here, honestly but hey! More props to her.

Right. 

There is soft laughter in the background from Younghoon’s end of the line��but it is barely audible.

So? Has any of these 3 ladies caught your eye, or should I say ear so far?

I… I’m not sure. Is that all the information?

Hm, I could send you a little excerpt of their profiles if you’d like?

That would be great, thanks.

Alright, hang on a minute.

Rustling sounds as the phone is placed aside. A short moment passes before Younghoon hears a crash followed by a yell.

 … Hello?

Silence.

Is everything ok?

The silence continues and Younghoon contemplates hanging up and just calling another day. He is about to do so until he hears your voice.

Hi, hi! Sorry if you’ve been waiting long!

Is everything alright? I thought I heard a crash.

Ah, yeah. That was nothing! I had to go retrieve a few files, just to double check some stuff before I send it over! I guess I wasn’t looking when I rounded the corner because I ran smack into someone. It was carelessness on my part, really. I really should look where I’m going.

Oh, are you ok?

Yeah! I’m ok, thank you for asking.

No problem. Was just wondering. It seemed like a pretty nasty crash.

Oh um… Kind of, yeah.

Kind of?

Well… That person was holding a cup of hot coffee and it spilled all over so...

Hot coffee? Did you get scalded?

Um… Yeah, I did.

That must have hurt a lot! You should really apply some ointment on the burn.

I will! Thank you so much for your concern, Younghoon. I’ll send the profiles to you and get to that immediately after?

You can send me the profiles later. I can wait but your hand can’t.

There was a pause before you replied.

Ok.

Anyone could have heard the smile in your voice.

Hello?

Hello, this is y/n from Love-

I know who you are. You don't have to keep reintroducing yourself.

Ah, ok alright. Figures. Sorry, it’s just a habit at this point.

It’s no problem.

Right, I’m just here to check in anyways! Have you decided on which match to call?

Not really.

Why not?!

... Was there a deadline that I’m not aware of?

Oh no, there isn’t. I’m just surprised. It’s been about 3 days since we last talked over the phone about your matches. I just thought you’d have picked someone by now.

It’s not exactly a priority of mine. 

There was a pause before he continued.

How’s your hand?

It’s much better! Thank you for asking, I’ve just been applying medical cream to it regularly so right now, it swells a little less.

That’s great to hear then.

Yup.

A short moment of awkward silence ensued.

I hope you don’t mind if I ask you this but... Why did you sign up for the Love Hotline?

Hm? Why do you ask?

Well... You said finding and making a match isn’t a priority of yours so that got me wondering. Most people would have made their decision relatively quickly and taking 3 days to reply is almost unheard of in the office.

... I don’t know. Now that you’ve put it that way, I’ve got no idea why I’ve signed up either.

Not even the slightest clue?

Not really. 

A pause.

I think I was just bored.

You gave a snort which you quickly masked with a cough.

I heard that.

Younghoon’s voice was accusatory, almost even a little playful but not aggressive.

I mean, joining because you’re bored? Not going to lie, that’s a first.

Oh nice. For once in my life, I’m first at something. Thanks, y/n.

A melodious laughter rang out from the other end of the line.

How are you still single with humour like that?

I’ll take that as a compliment. Truth be told, I have no clue. If I knew, I wouldn’t be single.

That's true. Oh yeah, you still haven’t told me who you have chosen to call!

Do I have to make a decision now?

Preferably? The faster you do, the faster we can get this match under way.

 ... I’ll just let you make the decision for me then.

What? Why me?

The incredulity in your voice was clear as day at his words.

Since I can’t make a decision and you need me to choose a match, why don’t you do it for me? 

I can’t for the simple fact that my boss will have my neck if it ever got out that I chose for a client.

Well, your boss doesn’t have to know that. It’s going to be between us anyways. If you don’t tell and I don’t tell, who’s going to know?

Well... It’s just weird. I’ve never been asked to do this.

Hm, there’s a first for everything. I trust your decision.

Really?

Yeah, why not?

There was another pause.

Just don’t betray that trust. 

You chuckle.

I won’t because I’m not going to choose for you. How hard can it be to just make a decision? These are all great matches!

Precisely because they’re great matches, I can’t choose.

You're impossible.

Thanks.

Younghoon, I’m just doing my job here.

Isn’t your job to accede to your client’s requests?

That was a tone of mischief in his voice.

Oh my god. I don’t even know how you look like but I’m sure you’d look like a proper asshole.

Wow, language. Is that the way you speak to your clients? Can I speak to your manager please?

You laugh and Younghoon smiles.

You are incorrigible.

You’re too cute.

There is a short pause as the two of you registered what he just said. Flustered, he scrambles to say something.

I-I... T-That didn't mean a-anything. I was j-just saying-

That didn't mean anything? I’m hurt.

You giggle and he stops mid-sentence.

What?

I’m just messing with you, I know that didn’t mean anything. I call people cute all the time too, especially my neighbour’s dog. 

Right...

So anyways! Pick a match!

No.

Please?

Just pick one for me. Client’s orders.

Fine, I’ll pick a horrible match for you.

I’d call your manager then.

I hate you.

I know.

Ugh, ok fine but this is the first and last time I’m doing this.

I’ll take it.

Great, I’ll talk to you soon then! Keep being annoying, bye.

Sure, I will. See you.

The call ends on a light note and Younghoon stares at his phone. What is this fluttery feeling in his heart?

Hey, y/n.

Oh, you recognise this number now?

Yeah, I have a decent memory for stuff like that.

Nice. 

So to what do I deserve this honour of you calling?

Don’t be dramatic. I was just calling to ask about your call date. How was it?

Younghoon grins at your lighthearted reply.

I’m surprised you chose Joy.

Really? If I remembered correctly, you were the one who told me to choose a match for you.

I did but I don’t know why. I’m still surprised.

Maybe you should pick a match yourself next time so you can be a little less surprised? But that’s beside the point! How did the call date go?

It was not bad, actually. She seems pretty cool.

Right? See, I’ve got an ear for perfect matches. I know my matches when I hear them. I’m amazing.

Yeah, yeah. I guess we can expect a call from the Prime Minister any time now. 

Stop being sarcastic and just admit that your matchmaker is capable and excellent at her job.

No, shan’t.

You are horrible. I get you a match and I don’t even get my thanks.

Well, fine. Thank you.

That’s better. Good boy.

Don’t call me that, I’m not your dog. 

So you’d prefer good man?

At your reply, Younghoon nearly spat out the water he was drinking.

That's so weird! 

Exactly. 

Call me neither!

Fine, fine. I was just kidding anyways.

There was a distant call from the other end of the line and from the other end, Younghoon could vaguely hear your name being called. He felt his heart sink a little despite himself.

Oops, duty calls. I’d love to talk more but I’ve got a meeting. I’ll catch up more with you some other day?

Sure. Bye.

Bye!

Hey, Younghoon. Wow, this is new. You’re calling me first this time.

Yeah, hey. I just wanted to call to inform you that the match with Joy fell through. I’m going to need a new one.

What?! Why?

You screeched and he had to hold the phone away from his ear.

Geez, don’t screech into the phone.

Sorry, I’m just shocked. Why’s that? Didn’t you say she wasn’t bad?

Yeah, she isn’t bad. Just not my type.

What’s your type then?

The next word was out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

You.

There was a long pause and somehow Younghoon couldn’t bring himself to say the words that bit at the back of his mind. ‘Just kidding’, because subconsciously was he really kidding though? 

Quit horsing around.

You laugh awkwardly and he frowns. This wasn’t what he expected.

Y/n...

Stop clowning. I know your antics, you-

Before you could say anything else, someone else called for you in the office.

Oh, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you next time? Also stop being a clown, it doesn’t suit you. See you!

Y/n, I-

Call ended.

“...Meant that,” Younghoon mumbled to himself.

Hello, this is y/n from Love Hotline. How can I help you?

Stop it.

Isn’t that what you always say?

Well, excuse me for following company policy.

I was just teasing you. Why have you called anyways?

What do you think?

My common sense says you’ve called to inquire about my call date with Shuhua. 

Your common sense is right. So, how did it go?

It went fine, I guess?

Fine, you guess? What kind of an answer is that?

A perfectly reasonable one. You wanted an answer, I gave you an answer.

This guy...

You groan in frustration and Younghoon had to stifle his urge to laugh. Teasing you was becoming a hobby for him.

C’mon, cut me some slack here.

It went fine. We didn’t really talk about much.

Ok, so what exactly is ‘didn’t really talk about much’? You gotta work with me here, bud.

Well, we got along fine for the most part but as far as chemistry goes, there wasn't really any?

Tell me about it.

We basically talked about our day and ourselves and I think that was about it.

Are you serious?

I don’t get paid for lying to you, y/n. Of course, I’m serious.

That doesn’t sound like much.

That’s what a conversation lacking in chemistry sounds like.

How do you know there’s no chemistry as you say?

Your tone was indignant and internally, Younghoon felt a twinge of disappointment in his heart. Were you so bent on making it work between him and Joy first and now Shuhua?

Why are you so determined to get me and Shuhua to work as a match?

I’m sorry?

There was surprise in your voice.

Well, I mean... It’s my job. I’m a matchmaker, of course I have to make sure my matches match. The faster, the better.

Right.

Yeah, so how do you know there’s no chemistry or no chance between the two of you?

I guess we just didn't have much to say beyond the basics? At one point, it was beginning to feel forced.

Really?

Yeah, no point continuing something that’s forced.

Are you sure it wasn’t just awkward first ‘date’ jitters?

Younghoon couldn’t keep away the frustration in his voice as he replied, feeling weirdly angered for some reasons.

No. It wasn't.

A pause.

Are you alright?

Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?

You sound like you’re mad at something.

Do I?

Yeah. You do.

Ok, then I guess I am.

You want to tell me what’s going-

I like you.

Another pause.

What?

I said I like you.

You’re kidding.

You start to laugh but it died down as soon as he replied.

I’m not.

But... Why?

It’s just you. I don’t know why but talking to you has always been comfortable. Remember when we talked chemistry? We have that chemistry. It just came out of nowhere.

A-Are you drunk?

Younghoon felt anger course through his veins at your words.

Does it sound like I’m kidding?

...W-We can’t do this.

Why not?

... We just can’t. It’s company policy.

They don’t have to know!

I... I...

Realisation suddenly dawns upon him.

You feel the same, don’t you?

I...

If you feel the same, why do you keep pushing me on call dates?

I couldn’t...

There was desperation in his voice as he cried.

You can, they don’t-

I can’t.

He felt his blood run cold.

Why?

I need this job, Younghoon. I can’t lose this job. If they find out that I’m dating a client, I’m done for. I’ll be fired.

You could-

I can’t look for another job. 

I’ll help you look for one.

It doesn’t work that way. 

There was tone of sadness in your voice.

This is the only job I’ve found that manages to pay my bills. I can’t lose it. I need this job. This job is something I got because of my mom’s connections and if I lose it, I’ll be disappointing not just my company but also my mom. My mom worked hard to allow me to work here. We were never well off and my mom worked her guts off as a salon assistant assisting the rich. It was through years of work and making connection did she become friends with the owner of Love Hotline who also happens to be my boss now. I can’t embarrass her like this.

Y/n...

What are you doing?

A sharp voice that wasn’t y/n’s interrupted and even though he wasn’t where you were, he knew in his heart that something had gone wrong but before he could say anything, the line went dead.

Call ended.

A week and a half passes without any calls. Younghoon grows more worried by the day. Did something bad happen? Ever since that last call, there wasn’t a single word from you at all until one night. It was approximately 2am at night when the phone rang. Grunting in annoyance at whoever is calling at this time of night, he reached out and answered the call.

Hello, who’s this?

Hey, Younghoon.

At the sound of your voice, he perked up and he was immediately alert even though it was about 2am in the morning. 

How’s it going? You haven't called in awhile. And whose number is this?

It’s my personal number.

There was light sniffling and immediately, Younghoon’s happy mood disappeared.

Hey, what’s wrong?

N-Nothing... 

I can hear you crying. Tell me what happened.

I... I... Nevermind. It’s stupid. I should never have called you. This is so extremely unprofessional of me, let’s just forget I called you. Bye.

Wait, y/n! Don’t!

Call ended.

The number you’ve dialled is not available at the moment. Please try again later.

Younghoon:

 hey y/n, are you ok? i tried calling so many times but you wouldn’t pick up

if you see this, pls reply. i’m worried for you

if you need someone to talk to, call me anytime

pls

don’t just ignore this, i want to help

Y/N: 

I’m fine. I just need some time to myself

Younghoon:

ok. i understand. pls don’t hesitate to msg me. know that im here for you.

Y/N: 

ok thanks

The number you’ve dialled is not available at the moment. Please try again later.

The number you’ve dialled is not available at the moment. Please try again later.

The number you’ve dialled is not available at the moment. Please try again later.

The day was bright and sunny as the sun bore down relentlessly on the earth. There was a slight summer breeze in the air which Younghoon would have normally loved but this time, it did nothing to uplift his mood. All he could do was stare listlessly at his phone, awaiting a call from a certain someone.

It’s crazy how the last time the both of you spoke was almost 2 weeks ago. To him, 2 weeks was an awfully long time and internally, he missed listening to your voice. There was always something so cheery and enchanting about your voice from the very first call the both of you shared even though he’d never admit it. The worry in him hadn’t dulled in those 2 weeks as he mulled over your whereabouts and wellbeing. The last time you two talked, you had been crying and in a depressive mood. Not being able to do anything killed him on the inside and as he entered a nearby café he frequented, the smell of bread which was usually his favourite scent in the world that would always bring him a sense of comfort did nothing to sooth his nerves. 

As Younghoon stood before the cashier, he said absent-mindedly as he reached for his wallet, “I’ll have the cheese toast.”

“Ok, that will be eight fifty.” 

Younghoon stiffened. That voice...

“Y/n?”

At your name, your head snapped up and your eyes widened as you made eye contact with the man in front of you. He had chestnut brown hair that fell in soft bangs over his eyes but not in an unkempt way. His dark eyes were large and soulful, seemingly containing whole galaxies in them and his demeanour was gentle yet firm. He was tall as well so you had to slightly crane your neck just to look at him. Although you had never met this man, there was something so deeply familiar about him. 

Younghoon could hardly believe his eyes. Here you were, right in front of him and you were every bit as beautiful as he imagined. He felt his heart pounded rapidly against his chest as he stood transfixed. It was awhile before he managed to get a grip and slowly, he said, “We need to talk.”

As the two of you sat down over coffee after your shift, he peered at you with a look of concern on his face.

“What happened?” His voice was soft as you had remembered and immediately, you felt at ease.

“Well, long story short. I got fired.”

His eyes widened.

“From Love Hotline.”

‘B-But... How?”

You took a small sip of your latte. “Remember when I had to hang up abruptly in the office?”

He nodded his head, dread creeping in. Surely...

“That was the day I got fired.”

Younghoon felt his heart fall with a messy splat. This was all his fault.

“I... I can’t tell you how sorry I am, y/n. I-”

You placed a finger on his lips and you had to try your best to ignore the burning feeling on your finger at the feel of his soft lips.

“Don’t. Don’t apologise because it’s not your fault.”

“But I-”

“I think deep down everyone knew that I was falling.”

Younghoon stared at you with a blank look on his face, his eyes shining with an indescribable emotion. 

“Falling?”

You smiled to yourself.

“You probably don’t know this but remember when you told me you liked me?”

He looked at you curiously and you continued, “Do you have any idea how happy yet conflicted that made me? I knew I’d lose my job but I knew that I liked you as well. I wanted so desperately to accept your feelings but I couldn't. I feel like my colleagues had already known about my affections towards you given the way I’d talk to you in the office. Someone must have told on me, I guess I was too obvious about it. That night when I called you at 2am, it was possibly the worst night of my life. I had felt so lost and hopeless that I didn’t know what to do. But then, I thought of you and this is so cheesy but... I felt like you were the only one I could turn to although I chickened out before I could say anything... I didn't want to burden you.” 

You chuckled sadly and Younghoon reached out to grasp your hands in his. The feeling of his large hands on you was so heartwarming that you felt like you could cry.

Drawing in a deep breath, you said, “I get it if you don’t want me anymore because of how long I had ig-”

“Don’t say another word.” Younghoon breathed.

He reached his hand over to cup your face and caressed you as the both of you stared deep into each other’s eyes. To think that such a deep bond can be forged between the two of you over a series of phone calls felt almost surreal. If you had told him even 6 months ago that he’d meet you, the love of his life over something as tacky as Love Hotline, he wouldn’t have believed you but as he brought your face closer to his, he knew that there was nothing he’d trade in the world for you when his lips came into contact with yours.

“You’ll never be a burden to me,” he whispered. “You are everything that I always wanted and everything I never knew I needed.”

#happy younghoon day!! #deobiwritersnet #tbznetwork #kwritersworldnet #tbz younghoon #the boyz younghoon #tbz imagines #the boyz imagines #tbz fluff #the boyz fluff #tbz scenarios #the boyz scenarios #tbz fics #the boyz fics #younghoon x reader #younghoon fluff #younghoon fics #younghoon imagines #younghoon scenarios #kim younghoon #younghoon oneshots #tbz oneshots #the boyz oneshots

[unadulteratedbeardpeanut]

Bucky Drabble #3

Bucky x Pregnant!Reader (female)

A/N: Still haven’t got any further on my Uni essay, but I wrote this! This drabble came to me in the early hours of the morning and I ran with it. I honestly think this is the most I’ve written creatively at one sitting in my entire life (go me).

Warnings: Angst, Bucky is the Winter Soldier, so anything associated with that, but not super descriptive, sorta fluff? All the things associated with my writing, so poor writing, mediocre grammar, not beta read, not edited (I might fix that in future idk), Author herself is worth warning you about.

Word Count: 1394 (wow I surpassed 500 words; I even broke 1K!)

---------------------------

It was still dark outside when you opened your eyes, the moonlight sneaking through the gap in the curtains. The urge to go to the bathroom to relieve your bladder was the catalyst for waking you from your slumber. Your left-hand slides across the sheets, reaching out for your husband in comfort, only to meet his empty and cold side of the bed.

‘Where is he?’ you thought. He wasn’t on a mission; he would have told you if he was leaving for one.

You push yourself up by your arms and shuffle towards the edge of the bed, feet meeting the cold floor before gliding into your fluffy slippers. You walk towards the ensuite bathroom to relieve your bladder, rubbing your bump along the way.

‘you sure like to play with mummy’s bladder little one. Let’s go find where your daddy has wandered off to once we’re done, hmm?’.

You were finished in the bathroom quickly, keen to find out where your husband had gone. You first checked his study that was a few doors down from your shared bedroom. Bucky hated doing paperwork and often shoved it to the back burner until he was forced to do it- so it was possible he had some that needed completed by the morning. That idea was soon shot down when you entered his study for it only to be just as empty as the rest of the upper floor of your house. Breathing a sigh through your nose as you turn around and make for the ground floor, opting to check the living room to see if he is watching TV- again not an unusual thing for Bucky to do during the middle of the night when sleep evades him. Unfortunately, he was not to be found in the lounge either, the couch not even having any signs of being disturbed.

There was only one other place in the house that he could be and that was the kitchen, ‘maybe he was peckish and decided to make himself as sandwich… and decided to stay there…’. Yeah, you weren’t even convincing yourself with that one. 

The kitchen was just as dark as the rest of the house when you entered, no signs of life to be found. Now that you were here you were just as well to make yourself something though, maybe said sandwich that Bucky ended up not making for himself. You flicked the light switch, the sudden brightness blinding you momentarily and causing you to close your eyes on reflex. Only when you open them you are met with the beautiful blue eyes of your husband, your Bucky. Except he is looking at you with a blank expression. No recognition passed through is blue orbs as he looks at you.

‘’Bu-Bucky? What are you doing down here? Why were you sitting here in the dark?’’

He makes no to move to answer your question; just continues to stare at you with his empty eyes. You walk closer to him, slowly and in trepidation.

‘’Bucky? Sweetheart, are you alright?’’

‘Again nothing. It’s as if the lights are on but no one is home. It as if- oh. Oh no. Oh no no no, not this.’

You stop dead in your tracks, an arms width away from your husband- the love of your life, the father of your unborn child. You close your eyes and take a deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth, hands covering your bump both protectively and for comfort. You open your eyes again, feeling somewhat calm but equally dreading the next words to leave your mouth.

‘’Soldat?’’

His reply is instant. ‘’Ready to comply.’’

A quiet sob leaves your mouth at his words, grief overwhelming you. It felt as if your heart was following the same fate as the Titanic- sinking into a deep abyss of darkness; never to see the light of day again.  

You are lost for a few minutes in your grief, leaving yourself completely defenceless in his presence. However, the Winter Soldier makes no move. He just continues to sit there. Waiting. Waiting for his orders; for his next mission.  

Determination soon fills you, coupled with your unwavering love and desperation to get your Bucky back.

‘’Soldat, your orders are to go into the living room and sit on the sofa- the big one in the middle of the room- oh and please turn on the lamp just next to it too? I will join you shortly and give you your next orders.’’ Each word feels like acid as they leave your mouth, praying for Bucky’s forgiveness for doing this to him. The Soldier simply nods and- as silent as a panther stalking its prey- leaves the room, following his orders. You breathe a sigh of relief, rubbing your bump absentmindedly. You move forward to the counter and pull out all the necessary ingredients to make two sandwiches -Bucky’s favourite- and turn the kettle on. Hot chocolate and a sandwich, comforting food to try and help him remember himself. You would have liked to make proper hot chocolate- with warm milk rather than water- but you already have a long night ahead of you.

Putting everything on a tray (a baking tray that you have repurposed for the moment) once made, you turn and leave the kitchen, noticing the dim light leaving the living room as you walk.

He is sitting stiffly on the couch when you enter the room, his face and eyes staring directly forward and awaiting your next instructions.

Walking further into the room, you gently place the tray of goodies onto the coffee table before walking away towards the welsh dresser at the back of the room. You pull out a series of large folders and some journals, piling them on top of one another in your arms before shuffling your feet across the floor- struggling to keep a grasp of the deceivingly heavy pile. You place them onto the coffee table with much less grace than you did the tray, but the Soldier didn’t so much as spare you a glance during your fumbled movements.

‘Direct eye-contact and showing curiosity or interest in anything that wasn’t his orders got him in trouble before’. You remembered his words sadly. He didn’t like sharing what he had gone through with Hydra to anybody, but least of all you. He didn’t want to taint you with those ugly stories, instead sharing hundreds of others of him and Steve from when they were growing up and from his time as an Avenger- before he met you anyway. Stories that are now the key to bringing him back to you.

‘’Soldat, eat with me. And drink if you’re thirsty too.’’ You say gently, hoping that he will accept your orders despite holding no authority in your voice. He glances at you briefly before locking his eyes to the food on the tray, the movement so quick that you almost didn’t see it. He seems to look at the food warily, as if trying to figure out if it was poisonous. You lean forward and take one of the sandwiches, biting into it quickly in an attempt to show that it was safe to eat. He mimics your actions shortly after, not wanting to face his handler’s wrath for not complying with their strange orders.

A minute passes in silence between the two of you, as you try to figure out if this will work and how you’re going to bring him back if it doesn’t.

‘’Soldat, I’d like you to review some files with me. Please?’’

He seems to relax somewhat, your order being one that is more reminiscent of his past handler’s. You open the first folder, a vast array of black and white photos of a dark-haired boy with light eyes- the exact colour lost by the monochrome image.

‘’Soldat, this is a collection of photos. It is of the Barnes Family, specifically of James Buchanan Barnes.’’

The Soldier peruses the photos with confusion, his brow furrowed. This continues for hours, the night lost to photo albums and leatherbound journals, all detailing the long life of James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes. At the break of dawn, you hear the words the liberate you heart, cleansing all grief and cutting away the weights that held it down.

‘’Thank you for bringing me home, Doll.’’

#james buchanan barnes #Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #bucky x pregnant!reader

[sapphicdt]

Just Like You Used To

hihi i usually hate sad fics because i personally read fics for comfort but i wrote this out of impulse and because i needed  a good cliche Snape x Reader thingy to cry to so i apologize if this comes out as too cringey and wattpad-y. this was quite poorly written but i still hope you like it.

(italics for the flashbacks :) )

warnings: angst, minor typos

word count: 1.8k

The musky earth smell of the dungeons hit your nose like the perfume of an older lady when she went in to hug you.

You had not been here since the end of the war, and neither did anyone else. Minerva had not gone down there either. You had seen how the usually composed professor’s demeanor would shift behind her eyes into a raging sea, whenever she would be indirectly reminded of him. 

It was funny how life worked; one moment, you were helping him clean the cauldrons in his classroom, and the next you were to sweep off the dust from his abandoned office.

“Miss L/N, you are going to freeze your ears off if you do not get back in here” he said to you as you were walking around in the snow without your coat, prancing about in the cold like a child on Christmas morning. “Sorry, professor. It was too beautiful out to miss.” you responded meekly. He rolled his eyes. “Silly girl” he said, and ushered you back in.

As the both of you walked side by side, the silence was broken when he asked “How was your day?’. He said it very quietly, like asking such a question was humiliating, and that it would destroy his usually stoic bearing. You sighed and said “It was alright. But it did snow so it got better. What about you, professor?”. He stayed quiet for a while before responding with a little grunt of an “It was okay”. You giggled in response.

He walked you back to your dorm, not saying anything else.

Time flew and you had started spending more time with the professor. According to you, it was because “He was your new bestie”. He would roll his eyes whenever you would jokingly refer to him as that whenever your friends would ask why you hung around him so much.

It was true; you did see him as a friend, and although you wished to yell out to the world how much you would do for this man, you did not want to get slapped in the face by rejection and humiliation. After all, his doors were closed, and heart belonged to the late mother of The Boy Who Lived. Everyone knew this.

On one of your visits to his office, you were both sitting in silence, doing your own things, before you said “Professor, If I’m going to be honest, I would just like to say that I am going to miss you.”. “What do you mean, Miss L/N?” he responded. “I am graduating soon, and I’m just going to miss going to your office, studying here with you in arms reach, having class with you, having you as my teacher, and just-” somehow, the oxygen in the room has disappeared, and you found it hard to usher out what you were going to say next. “Seeing you everyday” you finally breathed out. You expected a him to throw a fit, to slap you, yell at you about how this was highly inappropriate and that he did not want to see you ever again, for him to spit at you for how stupid you were. But none of that came; everything but all of that. He was quiet for a moment, as he was every time you said something inherently nice. But then he said “I’m afraid I will miss your company too, Y/N”. You had the smile of an idiot plastered on your face for the rest of the afternoon.

Months flew by, and it was April, you had seen him again on his way back from his meetings, and wanted to tell him something for you had not been able to talk to him at all ever since the war started. He seemed so tired and somehow even more irritable and angrier than he had been before, so you left him alone. But today, you decided that it would be worth a shot to try and reconnect, so you walked up to him and said “Hello, professor.”. He looked at you and if you looked with a telescope, you could see his gaze softened, but only behind his eyes. Because that made fucking sense. “Good afternoon, Miss L/N. Is there anything I can help you with?” he responded. “No, professor. I just wanted to see how you were doing. After all, we haven’t talked in a long while.” you replied, a bit more blunt than you had intended, and you feared he was going to do something that would make you regret it after. But he did not. “Would you like to come to my office, just like before? We can talk there.” he said. You smiled sadly, and walked with him to his office.

He sat you down, and gave you a cup of tea, and made sure you were comfortable. Like he used to. “Now, how are you, Y/N?”. You had not known how much this man meant to you until this very moment. You could not hold anything back anymore. You burst into a sobbing mess, hiccuping trying to drink the tea. You could not pinpoint exactly why you were crying so much, but you just were. 

He was taken aback for a moment. He had seen many students cry at Hogwarts, especially after having been scolded by him, but this was different; you were in his office, and he just asked you a simple question. Not knowing what to do, he hesitantly patted your shoulder. He was not used to comforting people when they were sad. But although he had done it to you in many unconscious and indirect ways in the past when you were silently having a bad day, he just was not used to actively doing it. Your sobs ceased a bit and he asked you “Y/N, where is this coming from? What happened?”. You sniffed and hiccuped a bit before blatantly saying “I just miss you, professor, is all.”. He did not know what to say to say to this, and was still quite startled, then you cut his thoughts off when you said “I just wish all of this would end even just before I graduate so I could spend my last few afternoons in Hogwarts here in your office, like I had originally planned.”. “It will end soon, Y/N” he said and fiddled with his tea cup, and hesitantly pulled you into a hug. This somehow made you want to cry even more, and the next words that came out of your mouth were so unexpected, you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. “I think I love you, professor.”. He pulled away and lifted up your chin to look in your eyes. You felt him in your head, but you were too tired and sad to push him out, so you just let him search. After what seemed like an eternity, you felt your mind left alone again and he just moved his hands down your shoulder. With a sigh, he then said “I think you ought to be heading back to your dorm, Miss. I do have somewhere to go to.”. You stood up and wiped the snot off of your face, and headed out the door. Before you closed it, you said to him “I hope to come here again soon, professor.” and you left his office, and walked back to your dorm.

You stood in front of the wooden door of his office, tears now pouring freely down your cheeks. You knocked and you were wishing in the back of your head that you would hear him call you in, or see the shadow of his feet when he went to open the door, or see him  towering over you with his usual stoic demeanor, or with those beautiful onyx eyes you came to love, looking back at you. 

You felt silly, and touched the handle of the door, before pushing it open. You stepped in, and everything was left as it was the last time you came here; his half filled ink jar, half graded exams, half filled bottle of whiskey. But if there was anything about this man that was not halved, would be his passion. Oh Lord did this hurt.

It was like he knew his office would be returned to, just not by him.

You had been standing in the middle of the room for quite longer than you intended, so you snapped out of it and walked to his desk. You felt the wooden frame as you came across an unclosed envelope. “To whom this may concern” was all the back had read, You opened it and read through it. 

It was addressed to you. He was apologizing for not giving you a proper answer for what you said the last time you visited him. He was sorry for all the times he brushed you off before, during all the times you wanted to talk to him. All of that said, you were still able to use whatever was left of your composure. Then came the end of the letter

“......I am sorry it had to end this way. And I am so sorry for leaving you like this. Please don’t weep for me. I do not want to see you crying like that.

But although I am gone, I hope you think about me when you see a sparrow flying across the dusk of winter, when you smell the faint waft of parchment, or even hear the dripping down here in the dungeons. I too wish you could still sit with me here in my office while you read, just like you used to.

Nothing I say can satisfy you now, but what you said that April afternoon was not something I expected. I will admit that. But rest assured my dear, that I will not allow you to live the rest of your life not being reciprocated what you said.

So with the little time I have left of writing this, I hope you know that I love you very, very much.

Yours,

Professor Snape.”

Your chest was aching and your sobs were now very vocal. Through broken breaths and shaky legs, you stood up from the squatting position you were in and sat down on his chair. 

Time had passed, and before you knew it, you had fallen asleep in his office. You looked at the grandfather clock at the corner of the room and you had fallen asleep for quite a long time because what used to be noon, was now 3 in the afternoon.

You took the letter from his desk and walked out of his office, back to your dorm. 

You would rather anything else than to have lost him like this, or in any way at all. You wished everything was a dream and you could go back to the days where everything was happy. But this was the reality, he was dead and was never coming back.

It was now evening and dinner was over, but you did not go to eat. You stayed in your room and slept, too tired from crying, and from everything else in general. You reached to your nightstand and read the letter again, tracing over the print of the last sentence. And somehow, those words brought you great comfort, just like he used to.

#severus snape #severus snape x reader #severus snape x y/n #severus snape x you #severus #snape #harry potter #Alan Rickman #snape fic #harry potter fic #pro snape